Stan watched as everyone got up and left the theatre. Dipper looked like a zombie. He was as white as a sheet and had bags bigger than Mount Everest under his eyes. He also had cuts all over his face and the arms of his reverend costume were stained with blood. If Stan didn't know any better, he'd have thought his nephew was drunk due to the way he was swaying on his feet with every step he took. Mabel walked over to him and started helping him to the door.
"Jesus kid, what happened?" This is not going to be their version on the science fair. I won't let them make my mistakes. Stan thought.
"Dipper's just tired, that's all." Mabel smiled. 'And he got mad – and rightfully so, to be honest – about me taking his journal without asking for my play. It's all my fault."
"… n-no it-t is-n'-t." Dipper's voice was barely audible and he was stammering so much he could genuinely pass as a broken record. As it turns out, not sleeping for a week straight and being possessed by a demon had some side-effects. One of which was the fact that reassuring Mabel sapped what little energy he had left, before he fell to the floor unconscious.
"We need to get him to a hospital." Stan said, not giving a second thought about the bill. This is like, the one time I've ever wished to be British. The voice inside his head mumbled.
Mabel nodded vigorously. If you looked closely, you could see a tear welling up in the corner of her eye. "Yeah. Come on Dipper. You're going to be okay." She put her ear to his chest and listened for a heartbeat. It was steady. That was good? Probably?
Dipper was slipping in and out of consciousness and he was barely aware of being shoved into the back seat of the Stanleymobile. His seatbelt was pulled over him by… Stan? Maybe, he couldn't tell. His sight was blurry and he couldn't see a thing. Am I going to go blind? Is that what he does to you? I can definitely see more out of my right eye though. He was barely aware of a hand repeatedly tapped on his face.
"Dipper!" Mabel's voice echoed through his head. "Dipper, wake up! Please!" He could hear her sobbing and Stan flooring the accelerator. The car jerked forward and his head hit the back of the seat, not that he could even feel it.
"Mabel…" He managed to get out.
"ROAD SAFETY LAWS PREPARE TO BE IGNORED!" Stan shouted.
That was the last thing Dipper heard before everything went black.
Stan and Mabel sat in the waiting room biting their lips. It had been two hours since they had wheeled Dipper away. "So you're tellin' me," Stan said. "That he got possessed by some triangle demon that also happened to go inside my head?"
"Earlier." Mabel's voice was muffled, due to the fact that she had been in sweater town ever since she had given up on trying to force her way to the medical ward. "Earlier this summer."
"Christ on a bike." Her grunkle muttered.
"Are you the Pines?" An older nurse asked as she walked up to them. Maybe late fifties, early sixties. Right up Stan's street. Usually, he'd be chasing her faster than a cheetah running after a kangaroo but right now he couldn't bring himself to. He cleared his throat and locked eyes with the lady.
"Yeah."
"You can see him now."
Mabel immediately jumped out of sweater town in one fluid motion and dashed along the corridor. She slid around the corner (drifting not to dissimilar to Bugs Bunny) and opened the door. Dipper was lying on the bed in a medical gown, his arms wrapped in bandages. Mabel immediately jumped on him and hugged him tighter than was humanly possible. Dipper was certainly more alert now.
"Mabel…"
Huh, Stan thought. At least he can string together a coherent sentence.
"… I'm sorry. I ruined everything and-" He stopped talking and resorted to wetting his sister's sweater with tears.
Later that night, Stan looked at the twins. They were back at the Mystery Shack. Mabel was sleeping soundly on her bed and on first glance Dipper was too. On closer inspection Stan realised that the boy was pretending to be asleep sobbing into his pillow. "Kid," Stan started. He wasn't sure what to say. Being possessed would leave a mark on most people. Being possessed at the age of twelve should probably scar him for life. Just as he was about to say something, Dipper got up and ran down the stairs. "Wait!" Stan shouted as he followed him. When he got down, he couldn't find Dipper anywhere. Then he heard a quiet sniffling sound. It was coming from the living room, but he – the secret compartment! Stan rushed over and pulled it open. Dipper was sitting there curled up in a ball. He looked like he'd just ran a marathon.
"Just leave me alone."
Stan looked at his sobbing nephew. "Mabel told me. About B-" He stopped himself as Dipper looked at him for the first time since… well he couldn't remember when. He probably had a PTSD or something. Better get that checked out. "Him." He decided on.
"Leave me alone, please. I just need some…"
Stan sighed. "Alright kid. I'll be here if'ya need me." He sat down on the couch as Dipper pulled the door shut. "I'll be here."