Prompt: Can you please write one where Bill is sick with the blu and the Pine twins take care of him?

Sick and Twisted (Actually, Just Sick)

We've all had it at some point in our lives. The nausea, the headaches, the runny nose and the fever that's so bad you could bake ziti on your forehead.

The flu.

A common enough sickness humans had to deal with. And dealt with by a combination medicine, bed rest, warm soup and refreshing fluids. It got you out of school, out of work and chores and if you were very lucky, you had a mother who said 'no school until 24 hours fever free.' Which generally meant at least one day where you felt fine and thus spent the day inside playing video games and watching old reruns of Scooby-Doo on the tv.

Now, demons didn't get sick. That's one thing you must remember, because it was the same thing Cipher told his kids over and over. He told them adamantly, proudly even. As he sneezed, coughed, and threw up something horribly black and squelchy that started sizzling a hole in the carpet until Stan poured Holy Water on it. Cipher repeated this statement with Dipper-esque stubbornness on how there was no way in Hell that he, an all-powerful (Semi, Mabel corrected cheerfully) demon could ever get sick.

That aside, the drapes certainly didn't light themselves on fire when Bill had a sneezing fit by them, and Grunkle Stan was getting so fed up making Soos run around all day cleaning up after the demon's illness that he finally demanded the twins 'take that blasted monster upstairs and keep him away from the customers!' During this shout, Cipher sharply sneezed twice more in the living room and turned the couch inside out and the lamp's bulb exploded and melted.

Now, Dipper wasn't sure humans could get the demonic flu, but he decided now wasn't the time to split hairs, mostly because Bill's human form was sagging almost over him as he and his sister lead their demonic guardian up the stairs into the safety of the attic. That, and Grunkle Stan seemed pretty mad the insides of the couch were now all over the carpeting. It was best just to get the ailing demon out of their Grunkle's sight, at this point. So, up to the attic the demon was guided, his whining about demons never getting colds trailing off.

Bill spotted Dipper's bed, and bee-lined for it, collapsing his tall body with a low groan of relief. Mabel giggled at her twin's blush when she noticed that Bill choose his bed, because demons were actually very choosy about things they called 'nests.'

"Bill?" Dipper walked up to Cipher's shoulders, watching with some concern when all he received was a grunt to show Cipher was listening. "Do you need anything? Can…can we do anything, man? To make you feel better…"

"Yeah, I mean how did you even get the flu—" ("It's not the flu!") "In the first place? Don't your bad vibes keep all the…'other' vibes away?"

"If it's not the flu, than what is it?" Dipper finally asked, unable to bottle his questions any longer.

Cipher's brow was knitted, and he was trying to rub a temple to get rid of a headache. This seemed to be with little success, so Dipper turned off the light, casting the place in a little bit of moody darkness. Both twins heard the demon's quiet noise of appreciation, a sort of guttural purr at the change in brightness.

"S'like…it's like this thing…when our magic, our powers, get out of whack. And constrained you know…s'like called magical back-up." Suddenly Cipher was speaking around rows of white cruel fangs. On the next moans, every one of his teeth was sharp and jagged, like he had little pearl Doritos on his mouth.

Dipper watched the demon's golden eyes flash weakly, slitted and unfocused, and bit his own lip. Mabel scooted up at that, and reached out, pressing the back of her hand to the demon's gray forehead.

"Whoa!"

"What?" Dipper jumped.

"Well, he doesn't have a fever. He's freezing! Wow Bill, you're like one of those never-melting ice cream treats!"

"Thaaat might not be good." When Mabel glanced at him, Dipper rubbed his arm and felt for himself, wincing at the icy touch. "Bill is—I mean, demons are—always hot, remember him saying that? Like a lizard. They like heat and he's always using blue fire so he proably has a higher temperature he runs at."

Bill's smile was weak, but there. "Good job Pine Tree. Demons don't do well with chills. It also means I don't—" Bill paused for a coughing fit, nose scrunching, "I don't have enough magic to make fire let alone any other tricks." He moaned loudly and arched his hands.

"Including…"

Sharp, cruel claws streaked from his nails and dug into Dipper's comforter. Dipper yelped, but both he and Mabel yelped when thick black arms with a few fingers shot from Cipher's back, tearing through his shirt. The crumpled leather wings landed heavily, and at awkward angles beside the demonic force, who was still lying there looking positively miserable.

"The spell for my humanity-guise." Bill finished lamely. The demon (who now looked more demonic than the kids had ever seen,) also looked more annoyed than anything, and managed to shift one wing into a more comfortable position, though the other was awkwardly shoved against the wall and remained there no matter how Bill shifted.

Mabel gushed over Bill's pretty wings and was ready to paint his nails all sort of colors, but the demon pleading glance at Dipper shook the boy out of his shock and he gathered his thoughts.

"M-Mabel!" Dipper fought to the keep the laughter out of his voice. "Mabel, maybe later we can do that stuff with Bill. After he's feeling better though, don't you think?"

"Oh, yeah, good idea! I guess my party pink and terrific teal nailpolish isn't going anywhere."

Bill yawned quietly, and though Dipper marveled at the strange way his jaw seemed to stretch (like a snake? Weird!) He forced himself to not give into his own demons of asking questions and instead focused on the demon who was their friend.

"I know when I feel sick, crackers and juice help me. And so does my bed, so, uh, make yourself comfortable Bill, you can stay as long as you want."

Bill hummed and gathered himself up, shifting to lie on his side in a loose curl and blanket himself with one of his own giant wings. The wings looked sturdy and dexterous enough, Dipper noticed, but hardly meant for flying it seemed, the webbing so scarce and thin. Maybe the wings had other purposes—? No! Concentrate!

"C'mon Mabel. Help me go look for stuff we can use to keep Bill comfortable. I'm sure he'll get rid of his flu—or magical backup or whatever—on his own."

Remembering what Mabel said about his temperature, and noticing how Bill's wing didn't seem to be helping any, Dipper managed to pull a few blankets over the demon's larger body. Mabel even helped by throwing hers over, and they pushed a few pillows around Cipher's hunched up body to try and keep in some warmth. The demon's visible eye was closed and he didn't seem to be moving too much, though Dipper could see him shuddering and saw his wing fingers quivering ever so often as they moved. It was hard to gauge if Bill had something in his chest, he didn't breathe after all. So now sound could be determined if it was congested or not.

Dipper stayed up with Bill while Mabel went downstairs to make him tea—after much convincing that no, Bill didn't need Mabel juice right now. Tea was warm, and should help Bill with his flu symptoms.

Dipper watched him worriedly, and hoped the tea would help at least.

Unfortunately Journal 3 had nothing in the way of demons with colds, though he did find a section on mythical creatures and their illness, which looked promising.

"It says here's a lot of creatures get magical backup sometimes." Dipper read as Mabel returned with the tea. "It seems pretty random and slim, but it happens. The writer of journal wrote down a list of creatures he suspected having it. Let's see…"

No demons, though the skele-snake, the wigawaw and a dijin were recorded as having similar symptoms as the ones Bill was showing. Opposite temperature, magical outburst from sneezing, general fatigue, weakness and incapable of hiding from humans.

"Does the journal say anything about how they got better?" Mabel pressed as she pushed the little tea cup on its plate over to Bill, who was resting with his head on his crossed arms.

He lifted his head wearily at her poking, noticed the crackers and slid out a suddenly long slithery tongue, and it was horrifying. The tongue snapped the crackers up, then curled round the cups handle and drew it past Cipher's teeth, porcelain, liquid and all. Right into his mouth it went, the demon's eyes lidded and he didn't seem to be really with it. The cup crunched into pieces, Cipher flexed his jaw and simply swallowed. His eyes drooped shut and his head dropped back down, hardly noticing the twin's matching expressions of shock and awe.

"…Bill's right. The flu for demons isn't the flu for humans." Mabel finally broke the silence with that sage comment. Her brother could only nod.

Demonic attributes and attitudes aside, the twins spent the better part of the afternoon fussing over Bill and running around looking for ways to make him better.

The demon's appetite came and went, and when it did come something strange was usually devoured along with the offered vitals. So far, Bill had accidently (or not, Dipper wasn't sure) consumed a tea cup, a spoon, nine-tenths of the comforter and one of Mabel's plastic dinosaurs that was in her Mabel juice. Mabel didn't mind, she just hoped the demon liked the flavor.

But Bill didn't answer them much, and when he did it was in grunts, growls and once a hiss. The hiss was for Grunkle Stan, and the reason was because he'd come up and disturbed the already grumpy demon's nap. Mabel had flown to the demon's defense, to everyone's clear bemusement, and Bill just tiredly went back to sleep.

Dipper meanwhile, was a little worried. So much so that he finally threw caution to the wind (perhaps in Dipper's case his caution was on a permanent vacation on the wind) and clambered slowly up onto the bed with the giant sleeping lump.

"…Bill?" He asked softly, testing to see if he'd woken the demon or not.

No verbal answer. One of the demon's fingers twitched in his sleep. But Dipper thought he heard something. It was a strange sound, strange because Bill didn't make noises. He had no breath, no heartbeat, no organs.

…so where was those raspy, whispy gusts in the demon's chest coming from?

The kid edged his way under one of Cipher's wings, it was lighter than he expected and didn't react upon being touched. Dipper paused under the canopy of the demon's cupped wing, weighing his options and letting his eyes adjust to the darkness for a moment.

When Bill didn't stir and the raspy sound only got louder, Dipper moved into a lying position and angled his head against the comforter of his bed. He held his breath, ear close to the demon's chest, right in the center since Bill was still mostly on his side and facing Dipper. There it was, only now it sounded thick and heavy with something Dipper could only pinpoint as congestion. Something passed in waves, starting deep in the demon's chest and moving in all directions through Cipher's human frame. Dipper wondered what it was, but then noticed how warm and cozy it had gotten in this wing tent. Even ill like this, Cipher was still remarkably solid and reassuring in his presence.

…Bill wouldn't mind, would he? No, he didn't really care much what the kids did as long as it wasn't dangerous, and Dipper felt there was no where safer other than by Bill's side.

Dipper had curled up under Bill's wing, against his pulsing chest, and had dropped off to sleep in the warmth before he was even aware of it.

oOo

Bill woke up, and immediately regretted it.

He felt weak and tired, like he was a young demon again so many thousands of years of ago. There was a distinct pounding around his temples, in two places actually, alluding to his horns. The demon's vision swam and steadied slowly, and it took him a moment to register the two little balls of pressure on either side of him. Each was tucked under a wing, and upon further inspecting he realized it was the twin who were just curled up so brazenly against him, as if they belonged there.

Despite his chills, Cipher smiled faintly. Both were asleep, and Mabel came with Waddles, and Dipper was tucked against his stomach hugging journal 3, and really, Cipher wonders when he started finding the twins so enjoyable cute. (They had always been cute, but it used to sicken him. Now…he was a rather declawed demon, it seemed.)

Lucifer, he felt like he'd been hit by the Holy Bible and then fed a sandwich made out of its pages.

…but the little warm heaters at his sides weren't unappreciated. Really, it was the least they could do after all the trouble and core-attacks they put Bill through on a daily, sometimes hourly basis.

Cipher hissed as he tried to sit up, his body aching and joins cracking in feeble protest. His chills hadn't quite left, and his muscles shook a bit from lack of magical fuel. Still sick, then.

Bill sighed and shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. Then he settled back down.

But this time, leathery wings readjusted so that the twin were held, just a little more snugly, against the demon's figure as he fell back into unconsciousness.

He wasn't sure he'd wake up healthy again, but at least he wouldn't wake up alone. And that for some reason, made all the difference.

If you have any prompts, feel free to leave me something in the review!