EDIT: I added some stuff I forgot to weave in here that make more sense in this chapter than the next...so re-read if you haven't already...

"Dipper...you awake?"

"Y-yeah."

It was evening, and the twins had been asleep for hours. Mabel sat up, feeling a lot better. She still coughed, but it didn't make her whole body hurt. She reached for the thermometer and checked her own temperature. 99. Barely a fever at all. Her throat was sore but she was sure some liquids would help, and her stomach rumbled, ready for dinner. She stood up carefully, still light-headed and a bit achy, and stepped over to Dipper's bed.

Dipper had the blanket pulled up to his nose, which, with his cheeks were bright red. He shivered violently. He'd been awake for a while, trying to curl up against the chill. Mabel rinsed the themometer off in a clean glass of water on the nightstand that had been left untouched by the sleeping siblings, and tested Dipper. It was just over 100.

"Th-the doctor s-said I'm g-gonna b-be like this f-for a few m-more d-days," he said, teeth chattering.

"Did you dream?" Mabel asked nervously.

"N-no," said Dipper, although there were tears in his eyes. Mabel felt bad for him. She could tell, even though the danger had passed, Dipper was sick of being sick. She lifted the blanket, Dipper crouching in on himself at the sudden chill, and crawled in next to her brother. She sat with her back to Dipper's stack of pillows, and he rested his head on her stomach. Mabel wrapped her arms around him.

"C'mere, Waddles," she cooed softly. The plump pig grunted and waddled over from Mabel's bed and jumped gracelessly onto the pair. He curled up under the crook of Dipper's legs, his substantial heat seeping through the quilt and warming the bed nicely.

Dipper coughed and continued to shiver, but seemed more relaxed.

"Mabel,"

"Shhh, go back to sleep, Dipping Sauce..."

"No. I'm tired of sleeping. I want to talk to you."

Mabel blinked. "What's up?"

"I...well...I wanted to thank you..."

"Dipper..."

"No...you...you were so brave...you saved me..."

"Dipper," said Mabel, in a soft admonishment. "You'd have done the same for me."

"I know but...I was...I was scared."

Mabel was silent for a while. Scared? Mabel had been terrified. She still was. Had her body not been so exhausted, Mabel thought she would make a point of never sleeping again, if there were a slight chance of her dreaming that again. The horror had been so gripping...the pain had been so real.

"A-and-" Dipper continued, his voice trembling with shivers and emotion, "-and I'm sorry."

"Wha? Dipper, none of this was your fault," said Mabel, rubbing his shaking shoulder.

"No...I p-put you in danger. When we were in dream...you heard me calling you but it wasn't! I wanted to stop them but I couldn't, not until you were there and it was too late...it was their voice, not mine...not me...I swear I never would have-"

"Stop." Mabel was firmer than she meant to be, but she didn't want to relive the nightmare. "Dip, you were the one trying to warn me...every night you went through...that. You were trying to protect me."

"They were after you! Every time I saw you in my dream...they'd lure you with me as the bait and then hurt you...they...tried to kill you..."

"But a part of you must have known I-the real me, I mean-was coming to save you. That's why you left the hat for me."

Dipper was silent for a while. Finally, he said "Shooting Star..." Mabel pulled him in closer. The two lay there for a while, Dipper coughed and Mabel rubbed his back. She didn't want to stress him out, but there was something on her mind.

"Dipper, I gotta ask you something. Promise you'll answer honestly?"

"Promise," said Dipper, trembling. Mabel took a deep breath.

"You found the journal again, after Grunkle Stan said he hid it. Where was it? How did you find it?"

Now it was Dipper's turn to be silent. He thought about it, before answering. "I really don't know...I can't remember. Really...but I...something downstairs..."

"The museum?"

"No, the shop." Dipper screwed up his face as he tried to remember half-formed images. His body had not been his own at the time, everything was fuzzy. "I think...the vending machine?"

"He hid it on the vending machine?!" Mabel squeaked. "That's a dumb place!"

"No, not on top...underneath."

"Underneath?" Mabel asked, raising an eyebrow. Dipper tried to sit up but couldn't, so he just leaned on his elbow and looked at his sister.

"Yeah, but not like...underneath, like something under the bed...underground...below the vending machine...below...agh..." Dipper was breathing unevenly and he pressed a hand to his head. It hurt to try and remember. Mabel felt his cheek. He was warming up, and clearly becoming delirious. She gently nudged Waddles off the bed and stood up. She pulled a dressing gown on over her nightshirt.

"I'm gonna go get you some more medicine," she said, looking around for her other bunny slipper.

"You believe me...right?" said Dipper anxiously, starting to sweat. His eyes were turning glassy with heat. Mabel didn't want to upset Dipper further, so she forced him to lay back down and hushed him.

"It's okay, it doesn't matter. It's over."

She let herself out quietly, and walked down the stairs. Dipper wasn't lying, but he was obviously confused. Under the vending machine? It was the fever talking. Grunkle Stan just hadn't hid it well enough. Mabel thought bitterly...perhaps he should have buried them, like his friend.

Mabel reached the downstairs landing and found Grunkle Stan dozing on the armchair. She smiled, the bitterness washing away. The old man had done his best, and Mabel knew he was more worried and concerned than he would ever admit to. Grunkle Stan would never hurt them. Ever.

Wendy poked her head out from the kitchen, and so did Soos.

"Ham Bone!" he exclaimed, happy to see her up and about. Wendy hugged him.

"What're you two doing here?" she asked, still happy to see them.

"Aahh, Mr Pines has to close up for a few days, but there's still lots of work to do for me around here. Ya never know what'll need fixing next," Soos said, almost shyly. Mabel thought of how much Soos actually loved Grunkle Stan, and liked being around the Shack. Wendy poured some tea for Mabel.

"And I'm sticking around to help," she said, pouring herself a Pitt soda. "Stan's gonna need someone to help look after you two for a few days. Plus he's paying me extra." Wendy winked as she sipped her drink.

"Actually, I feel waaaaay better," said Mabel, adding "really!" when Soos and Wendy gave her skeptical glances. But it seemed true. Mabel had colour in her cheeks and her voice was less scratchy.

"This calls for a celebration!" said Soos.

"Yeah!" Wendy pumped her fist. "Pizza?"

"Pizza!" Soos confirmed, picking up the ancient phone. Mabel's stomach loudly agreed with a gurgle, and they laughed. A cough echoed from upstairs.

"What about Dipper?" Soos asked, putting his hand over the mouthpiece for a moment.

"He's still pretty weak..." Mabel admitted, downcast.

"He was pretty messed up by all this...he was dealing with all that crazy stuff longer than you...it'll take him longer to heal," came a voice from the door. Grunkle Stan was leaning on the frame. Mabel wakled over and gave him a hug.

"'m worried," she said, her voice muffled into Stan's pant leg.

"S'okay. He's gonna be just fine in a few days. But I don't think he can handle pizza," he gave a look to Soos, who grinned sheepishly. "If you're gonna order, at least get one with anchovies and meat. Lots of meat."

"Sure thing, boss!" Soos saluted and went back to ordering.

"Don't worry, Mabel, I got Dipper covered," said Wendy, who was pulling a bowl of soup from the microwave. She grabbed a glass of juice and a straw and some medicine and put it on a tray she seemed to have on standby. "You relax down here, I'll see to him." Wendy wanted Mabel to relax and get a break. Mabel smiled gratefully, trusting her friend. Wendy walked upstairs and let herself into the twin's room.

"Dude, dinner," she called. A muffled groan was her reply. She set the tray down and approached the bed. Dipper looked horrified to see her. And he was...not like this...so helpless.

"Where's Mabel?" he asked.

"Helping Soos eat your uncle out of house and home. We're ordering pizza. Sorry, dude, none for you. Soup?" she asked, although it wasn't really a question. The kid needed to eat. She helped Dipper sit up, propped up with pillows. She pulled a blanket around his shoulders and smoothed another one over his lap, although he still trembled slightly. She rested the soup bowl on Dipper's lap and gave him a spoon, and turned her back to start unscrewing a bottle of medicine. Wendy struggled with the child-proof cap but finally wrenched it open with a triumphant "Yes!" She turned around, but the spoon was still resting in the untouched soup, Dipper gripping it with a trembling hand.

"You okay?" Wendy asked.

"Mmm," said Dipper, and lifted the spoon and leaned forward, but only made it a few inches before he collapsed back into the pillows and the spoon landed with a little sploosh back in the bowl. Wendy set down the medicine bottle and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Here," she said, taking the bowl back and spooning some up herself, offering it to Dipper, who turned a brilliant shade of scarlet.

"N-no way!" he stammered, almost a cry.

"Dude, seriously," said Wendy. "You gotta eat."

"But...but this is...I can't...it's too...ugh I'm such a baby!"

"A baby wouldn't put up this much of a fuss," said Wendy pointedly. Dipper was taken aback, and Wendy softened slightly. "Look, I know this is weird for you, but you need to eat if you want to get better, and if you can't do it yourself I don't mind helping you. You're my friend, remember?" She gave Dipper a tender smile. Dipper looked defeated for a moment, but gave a meek smile in return. He opened his mouth and let Wendy feed him. He would never admit it was the best chicken noodle soup he'd tasted in his life, although he didn't make eye contact with the beautiful teen the entire time, and he felt his cheeks were hot from blushing so hard. Each mouthful made Dipper feel slightly better, made his shakes lessen, and when Wendy went to give him some more foul-tasting teal-green medicine, he insisted and was able to drink it from the little plastic cup himself. He felt sleepy again, and was beginning to feel angry. When was the last time he didn't feel exhausted? But Wendy moved the tray and tucked Dipper in. His eyes were drooping when he felt her hair brush his face, filling him with her woodsy scent, and she quickly pressed her lips to his cheek. Dipper froze. Wendy gathered the tray and headed for the stairs.

"G'night, Dipper. Get some rest," she said, reaching behind her to close the door.

"Wait, Wendy!" Dipper called, finally finding his voice..

"What?" she asked, looking concerned.

"Just...well...um..I..." Dipper stammered with what to say, but finally met Wendy's eyes and smiled. "Thanks..."

"Don't worry about it," she said, and made her trademark "lips sealed" motion, their private guesture they shared. With a quiet click, the door shut, and Dipper stared at the ceiling, feeling like now he would never need to sleep again, and grinning from ear to ear.