WARNING: Description of a significant medical event. Nothing gory but might be disturbing, reader discretion advised, etc etc.
Grunkle Stan looked from his list to a shelf stocked with all manner of cough, cold, and flu medicines in the Gravity Falls pharmacy. He was trying to decide between the various products, but impatience and, admittedly, a touch of worry got the better of him and with one fluid sweep he knocked several random boxes from the shelf into his cart. He then moved to the candy aisle, where he gawked at the many things Mabel had demanded. Still, he thought, picking up crinkly bags of all sorts of sugary nonsense, if this made her feel better. Stan trundled his cart towards the register. He knew it wasn't the flu, but how could he tell Mabel otherwise without upsetting her? Besides, he had gone through it before. Dipper was only a kid but he was tough, tougher than anyone gave him credit for, and Stan just hoped the contents of the various boxes now littering his cart would be enough to keep Dipper afloat while he fought Them off.
Soos was fiddling around under the register, trying to reach the chip he had dropped. The chip had bounced under the desk and Soos was straining to grab it with his chubby fingers. Finally, with a shout of triump, he locked his fingers around the now-dusty snack, and held it aloft in victory. It was only then that Soos caught sight of the figure standing in the doorway between the shop and the hall.
Dipper stood in his sleeping shirt and plaid pajama pants, looking rumpled. His unfocused gaze fell on nothing in particular. Soos jumped to see him, he had appeared so silently.
"Whoa, little buddy! Didn't see you there!" Soos dropped the chip again. He looked over at Dipper, who stood motionless on the spot. "You should be in bed, Dipper. What do ya need?"
Dipper shifted his hazy glance towards Soos, and smiled. His smile didn't quite reach his eyes.
"I'm actually feeling a lot better, Soos," he said, a bit flatly. Soos looked around nervously.
"A...are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. Just wanted to stretch my legs a little." Still, Dipper didn't move. Soos regarded his friend for a moment, and then shrugged. Soos generally took things for face value.
"Well, that's great, then. You wanna snack or anything?" he offered. Dipper nodded.
"That'd be great, Soos. Thanks."
Soos walked by and patted Dipper's shoulder. "Okay, well, just chill here and I'll be right back...gotta find more chips..."
As soon as Soos was puttering around in the kitchen, clumsily letting the semi-stale contents of Stan's pantry come crashing down on his head, Dipper walked silently into the gift shop. His half-closed eyes were unblinking as he entered a code into the vending machine. He drifted down the stairs and into the bunker. Had Dipper been in his true mind, he would have marveled at the mysterious dials and knobs and gauges, the strange symbols and shapes, the tubes and vials. Instead, he moved past them silently, expressionless. He approached Stan's desk and, effortlessly, as if guided, he located journal number three. He picked it up and turned on his heel, leaving everything else untouched, and quickly climbed the stairs and closed the secret door. Soos was still shambling around the kitchen trying to find bread with no mold on it, and Dipper walked upstairs to his room without a sound, and closed the old wooden door.
"Okay, here we go," said Soos, carrying a plate with a bologna sandwich and some chips on it back into the shop. He found it empty. "Dipper? Dood, where'd ya go?" Soos looked around, slightly concerned, but heard a creak from upstairs. He figured, innocently, that maybe Dipper had felt bad again and had gone back to bed. He shrugged, deciding to let the boy get more rest, and settled in to eat the sandwich.
Mabel and Wendy arrived back just as Stan was pulling into the drive. The rain was heavier now, and Mabel was looking forward to curling up on her bed and watching an old spaghetti Western with a warm bowl of popcorn with Waddles and Wendy, and of course, Dipper. From the bulging paper bags Stan was hauling from the trunk of his old station wagon, Mabel knew she'd have enough medicine to get Dipper back in working order, or at least, continued comfort. Mabel carried one of the bags inside for her uncle, whilst Wendy explained the master plan to the old man, who grumbled at the suggestion of carrying the TV upstairs but did not outright object.
"And you left him alone here, with Soos?" Stan questioned.
"Soos can handle it," said Wendy, gesturing to the store. "See, it didn't burn down."
"Only because it's raining," Stan mumbled. The three pulled off their wet jackets and rain slickers, and Wendy and Mabel shook the drops from their long hair like a couple of dogs, laughing as Stan was pelted with a few cold splashes. Soos was happily sweeping the lobby floor for the umpteenth time, and he stuck his head into the shop doorway.
"'sup doods?" he asked. Mabel trotted over, carrying Wendy's backpack and showing Soos her haul. They squealed in anticipation of the various B movies with ridiculously long and contrived titles.
"Was everything okay here?" she asked. Soos beamed.
"You bet, Ham Bone. Dipper came down for a snack but he went back to bed before he could eat it. I think he's sleeping again."
Mabel grinned from ear to ear. Her brother was up, and able to move around. "That's awesome, Soos, thanks!" She ran to the kitchen and got a tray and sorted out an arrangement of different medicines for whatever Dipper needed, the new pristine themometer still in its case, bags of candy and some sports drinks to rehydrate her brother. Wendy set about making popcorn and Grunkle Stan swore to himself as he bumped his head trying to unplug the TV. Mabel bounded upstairs and turned the handle to the twin's shared door.
It was locked.
Mabel's blood turned to ice. She knocked.
"Dipper? Dip it's me, open up," she said, trying to sound normal. She could hear something coming from inside but couldn't make out what.
"Dipper?" she asked, more frantically. She set the tray down and pressed her weight into the door as she turned the knob again in a futile effort to get the door to budge. "Dipper!?"
"Go away," came the reply. The voice was Dipper's, but also...not Dipper's.
"DIPPER!" Mabel was screaming now, shoulder-checking the door for all she was worth. Stan, Wendy, and Soos all appeared at the sounds of panic.
"It's l-locked! Somethin's going on a-and it's locked!" Mabel stammered, still hurtling herself painfully against the door, clawing at it with her hands. Stan's eyes widened and he moved Mabel aside. The old man was surprisingly strong and fit,, and within a few splintering cracks, he shouldered the door off its hinges and sent the old wood flying. The four clambered in, to find Dipper pacing between the two beds, flipping through the journal pages and reading aloud the strange encoded words, saying numbers and tracing symbols with his eyes and saying things no one could understand. His skin, if possible, had gone even paler, and his eyes were scanning the book pages so rapidly they seemed to vibrate. Stan was stunned...how had he gotten it...how much did he know?
"Dipper!" Mabel cried, running forward. She took her brother by the shoulders and searched his face, but he still scanned the book and tried to keep pacing. His skin was almost too hot to touch. "Dipper, what are you doing? What's going on?"
"Go away," he said again, not looking up from the book.
"Why do you have this?" Mabel squealed, panicked. She grabbed the book but Dipper did not let go. His eyes, normally a soft hazel, were black and red and gold and shot a look through Mabel that made her insides flip over.
"You promised me!" she cried.
"I...said...go...AWAY!" Dipper screamed. He struck Mabel with a powerful fist across her mouth, sending her flying into Stan. Her bottom lip smashed against her braces, and a stream of warm blood started gushing down her chin. She yelped and her hands flew to her mouth and were instantly covered with slippery scarlet. Wendy cried out but Soos held her back, looking horrified.
Dipper glanced from his still clenched fist to Mabel with his strange, dark eyes. Mabel felt tears sliding down her cheeks, and Dipper stared at them. His expression went from emotionless to shock, and back again, and then began to alternate. A strangled cry began to escape from his lips, and he, after some internal struggle, dropped the book and grabbed his own hair, groaning and then outright screaming as he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. Stan saw his chance and ran forward and grabbed the journal. Stepping away from his thrashing great nephew, Stan thrust the book into Wendy's arms.
"Take this to your house, now. Do not open it, do not let it out of your sight. Do not come back here until I call you, understand? Soos, go with her, make sure she's safe. Then go home."
Wendy gave one more furtive glance towards her young friend, before nodding and running out of the room, followed by Soos, taking the stairs two at a time. Dipper staggered on the spot. He raised his head and opened his eyes. They flickered with their strange colours again before returning to normal. He looked up, panting, eyes rimmed with white and circles underneath so dark they were almost black.
"...wh...what's goin'...on?" he asked, swaying and pressing a hand to his head. His gaze fell on Mabel, who was kneeling on the floor, trembling from fear and adrenaline. Her lip was bleeding steadily onto her fingers, which were frozen near her mouth. Tears flowed down her face like rivers.
"M...abel? What...happened to you?"
"...you promised, Dipper," she said, her voice shaking as much as she was.
Dipper looked confused a moment more, before realization and horror passed over his face. His eyes widened even more and he shook his head, as if trying to deny his memory.
"Oh...n-no..." he started, but he suddenly pitched foward. Stan caught him, and knelt with the boy in his arms. Mabel crawled over. Dipper's eyes had rolled halfway back into his head, and he was trembling violently. His jaw clenched and Mabel covered her ears at the terrible sound of her brother's teeth grinding together. The veins in his neck stood out like ropes, and spasms shot down his limbs.
"What's going on!?" Mabel screamed.
"He's having a seizure," said Stan, alarmingly calm. He held his great nephew's head stead in his lap. A trickle of foamy spit crept out of the corner of Dipper's mouth, and a dark patch appeared on his pajama pants as he urinated. It couldn't have lasted more than about twelve seconds, and Mabel could hear a scream ringing in her ears that she didn't vocalize. Dipper's tense body finally loosened, and suddenly bolted into a sitting position.
"Whoa, don't move, don't move," said Stan.
"Mabel?" Dipper asked desperately. Mabel grabbed her brother, whose burning skin was slick with ice cold sweat. She held his cheek in one hand and searched his face. It was Dipper. He looked like he had no idea what was going on, frantic and scared.
"Please tell me," her brother croaked, coughing, "please tell me I didn't do that..." Mabel saw Dipper looking at the blood on her chin. She wiped it away.
"Don't even think about it, it never happened," she said quickly. "Are you okay? You passed out...you had a seizure!"
"I don't...what's..." Dipper was close to tears, and promptly losing lucidity, still burning from fever. He looked down at his lap and back up in horror. He turned to see Grunkle Stan, kneeling behind him, face relieved but still grave. Dipper's eyes locked again with his twin. He looked so confused and ashamed and sick. He began to sob. For someone always so sensible, trying to be manly, Dipper was crying like a baby. Mabel wrapped him in her arms until he cried himself back into a near faint, which only took a minute. She and Grunkle Stan half-walked, half-carried him to the bathroom, where Mabel helped him peel off his clothes and helped hold him steady in the shower as he stood under a stream of cool water, politely averting her eyes to preserve what was left of her twin's dignity. Not a word was spoken between them. After he was dressed in a clean set of nightclothes, Stan carried the nearly-unconcious twelve-year-old to bed. Mabel made him take two capfuls of cough medicine and two flu pills before she let him fall back onto his pillows. She covered him with yet another blanket to try and stop the endless shivering, and sat on the edge of his bed until she knew he was sound asleep. He murmured her name a few times, but nothing else, and finally she heard a soft snore.
Grunkle Stan was waiting for her on the otherside of the curtain he had quickly hung as a makeshift door. He didn't meet Mabel's eye as she glowered before him.
"What is wrong with Dipper, and don't you DARE tell me it's the flu," she hissed. Grunkle Stan rubbed some tension from his neck, trying to choose his words in his mind. Finally, he sighed, and looked at his neice.
"C'mon downstairs. We gotta talk."
Author's note: I finally know pretty much exactly where this is heading and, as you have read, it's darker than I originally intended! This happens to me a lot...hehehe...but there will be I think...two more chapters of semi-heavy stuff, and then fluff...the dark chapters still have care-fluff mixed throughout so I hope you still like it. Thank you for reading, and of course I love reviews! xoxo