It was a dreary, drizzly day that greeted the Mystery Shack the following dawn, with the sun showing no sign of making even a token attempt at shining, and the Shack had no customers. Upstairs, Mabel wiped her brother's brow with a damp cloth, tenderly brushing the hair from his forehead, exposing his constellation birthmark. Mabel was exhausted. She had spent all night and morning looking after Dipper. Luckily, he had had no more nightmares, but Mabel had been too scared to fall asleep in case she awoke again to the sound of screaming. Another dab of cool water on a folded facecloth across Dipper's hairline sent her brother into a cascade of shivers. Mabel looked on morosely, and tried to make soothing noises as Dipper fussed slightly.
As it was, Dipper was in a terrible state. He had been unconcious since seven o' clock, when Mabel managed to rouse him enough to help him drink some water and have a few pills, the last from the bottle Grunkle Stan had given her. Dipper's breathing was laboured under his quilt, and he muttered incoherently. Unable to even stay awake long enough to keep his mouth closed around the thermometer, Mabel had to clamp the device under her brother's armpit in order to get a reading. It was 103 even. Mabel was getting frustrated...she had seen her brother sick before, on the rare occasion where he had picked up a bug. She remembered when he had the stomach flu a few years ago, and when they both had colds as young children, but Dipper was always pretty resiliant, and nothing had ever affected him so badly for so long. "He'll be right as rain tomorrow," her parents had said, and he always was. Mabel looked out the window and fumed. It was raining now and Dipper was not alright and she wasn't going to take it anymore. Making sure Dipper was properly asleep, not even concious enough to softly ramble on coughing breaths, Mabel quietly let herself out and paced down the stairs, stomping when she was far enough away she knew that it wouldn't wake Dipper.
"Grunkle Stan," she commanded, rounding the corner to the gift shop where Stan glared out the window at the weather. He jumped at the sound of her voice. Wendy looked up from the register, and Soos poked his head in from the doorway behind the young girl, who had locked her older relative in her sights. She marched towards him, hands balled in fists at her side.
"Dipper does not have the flu," she insisted. "There is no way. This is something else."
At first Stan looked startled, worried even, as he held up his hands defensively and glanced from Wendy to Soos back to his great niece. He then rubbed his neck and said "Mabel, honey, it's is the flu. He's got all the symptoms."
"But Dipper doesn't ever get sick, at least not like this!" Mabel looked imploringly, and somewhat angrily, up at her great uncle, with just the hint of tears on the edge of her voice.
"There's a first time for everything. I must have had the flu a hundred times by the time I was your age," Grunkle Stan offered, casual, but also trying to placate the worried Mabel. He gave her an awkward half-smile. "I know you're worried, but there's nothing we can do but wait for him to sweat it out. He'll be right as rain tomorrow, I promise."
Mabel's insistance and resolve deflated like a balloon. Her shoulders slumped. Maybe Grunkle Stan was right. Everyone got sick sometimes, even Dipper, and maybe she was overreacting. She looked around, and saw Wendy giving her a caring smile, and Soos looking ready to give her a comforting bear hug at the slightest prompt. She sighed. "Maybe you're right. But if he's not better in a few days we take him to a doctor?" Grunkle Stan nodded and Mabel let out a tiny smile of relief, before suddenly crossing her arms. She wasn't letting Grunkle Stan off that easy.
"In the mean time, you gotta go get a thermometer for mouths," she ordered, not even wanting to think about the reason why Stan only had the offending thermometer in the first place. "And we need more cold n' flu pills, we're all out. We need cans of soup that aren't expired, sports drinks, and I for one need about ten bags of candy!"
"B-but the museum!" Grunkle Stan began to protest, but half-heartedly. He didn't much like the thought of driving in the rain, and he was looking for any opportunity to whine about anything.
"I'll watch it for ya, Mr Pines," said Soos amicably, holding up a finger to volunteer. Grunkle Stan, Mabel knew, was only grousing out of habit, and she knew he cared. Her and Wendy started listing off a ream of things they wanted from the store, which Grunkle Stan begrudgingly jotted down on a list. Mabel smiled a little more. She loved that grumpy old curmudgeon. A cough echoed from upstairs, and Grunkle Stan glanced in its direction, worriedly. He threw on a heavy raincoat over his suit and trudged out the door into the lashing rain.
"...dang kids n' their soup n' candy," he muttered, but endearingly. Mabel found herself laughing a tiny bit. She watched out the window as Stan's old car sputtered to life and trundled away from the Shack towards town. Her hands and nose left an imprint on the glass. Something about watching the car drive away into the surrounding mist left her feeling suddenly quite lonely. Tears pricked in her eyes and she dabbed at them with her sleeve, surprised at their arrival.
"S'okay, Mabel," said Wendy, giving the younger girl a congenial half-hug.
"Sorry," Mabel replied, wiping her nose with the tissue Soos conjured from somewhere in his pocket, covered in lint. "S'just...I'm worried...what if it isn't just the flu? I mean I know it is but what if it isn't? I still don't think I can remember Dip like this...ever!" Wendy smiled comfortingly as the two sat by the counter.
"Hey, it's all good. I have three brothers, and trust me, they hardly ever get sick either, always toughing out colds n' stuff. But if they catch a bad bug it lays 'em pretty low for a while. Maybe it's a guy thing, I dunno. The 'Might Man Flu!'" Wendy passed her hand through the air like she was reading an invisible banner. Mabel furrowed her brow slightly, not entirely convinced. Wendy tried again to assure her friend. "Besides...Dipper has been working really hard around here lately, and how many weregoats did you guys fend off the other day?"
"Fourteen," Mabel said, as if Wendy had asked how many chipmunks she had seen that day. Soos was still counting off on his fingers, remembering.
"Exactly. Dipper's probably just really, really tired, too. Stan's right. It's the flu. A bad case, but the flu. He's gonna be better in no time." Wendy winked, and Mabel felt a little better. Wendy was never one to lie in order to spare someone's feelngs or sugar coat a situation. Soos patted Mabel's back.
"Thanks guys," she said.
"No problem. Hey, I have an idea!" Wendy jumped up, slapping her hands excitedly on the counter. "Why don't we go pick out some movies from my place? I have, like, a million DVDs. We'll get Stan to haul the TV up to your room and we can all watch movies together."
Mabel thought about it. Dipper was sleeping, but surely he'd wake up later today, especially if he was, as everyone assured her, about to turn around and recover. Or at least Mabel could watch TV quietly while she sat with him, and having Wendy for company would be awesome. Surely Dipper would like having his crush around too. If that didn't get him feeling better, nothing would!
"Sure!" Mabel also stood, clapping with joy. But she stopped suddenly. "But...Dip..."
"I can watch him, dood," said Soos helpfully. "Anything he needs, I'll get 'im. It's a divine quest, and I must answer the call." Soos held up a fist and looked into the distance with intensity. Mabel excused herself for a moment, and went upstairs to look in on her brother. He was unmoved from when she had last left him, and she watched from the doorway as the mound of blankets rose and fell with Dipper's breath. His sleep seemed pretty solid, at least. He was well and truly out. Mabel blew him a kiss and snuck back downstairs.
"He's asleep, so it should be okay. Soos, you'll listen for him, right?"
"You got it, Ham Bone! Bring back some karate movies, kay?"
Mabel grinned. The thought of getting out of the house, even for twenty minutes, was actually very appealing. She pulled on a bright yellow poncho and galoshes and followed Wendy out to her bike. The rain was cool and fresh and made everything smell earthy. Mabel climbed up behind Wendy and balanced on the back tire guard, and the older teen began the short ride down the hill to her house.
Soos hummed as he went about straightening the already-tidy items in the gift shop. True to word, he listened for any coughs or calls or anything from upstairs. None came, and Soos smiled and continued his pointless but enjoyful busiwork.
In the bedroom, grey light from the triangular window split with drops of rain, Dipper opened his eyes.
Author's note: thank you all for the reviews! Many hearts for you!
I have some stuff figured out for the next chapter and the general goal of the story, which, as usual, is ending up a little darker than I intended, but after the dark stuff there will be major fluff feels. Fluffeels.
Thanks again for reading!