Once Mabel saw the Hide-Behind's long, hidious claws dig into Bill's sides and create the deep gashes that were there now, she'd forgotten that this was Bill getting hurt. She hadn't cared who was hurting him. She saw someone hurting someone smaller and weaker, someone who, at the moment, couldn't defend themselves.

She did what she would have done in any such situation: She'd attacked the offender and done everything she could to assist the victim. It had gotten better when Juniper showed up while she was trying to carry Bill back to the Shack. She had eventually agreed to let Juniper back only because she couldn't carry Bill all the way. He was light, sure, but Mabel was short while Bill was tall, and she simply couldn't carry his unconcious bleeding body all the way back by herself.

Bill now lay on the couch, his sides and arms wraped in bandages that were going to need replaced soon.

He smelled like teenage boy. Ugh. He had to take a shower or something so she and Great Uncle Ford could wash his clothes. Well, actually so just she could wash his clothes. Normally they were the ones who did laundry. (Dipper and Grunkle Stan refused to help. They said clothes were a waste of time. It was one of the few things they agreed on.) But she still wasn't sure she could trust Great Uncle Ford to do Bill's laundry.

The only question she had was what he was going to wear while she washed his clothes. They would have to get him new ones. Or, she would have to get him new ones.

At this point, Mabel only trusted herself not to start trying to murder Bill at any given moment.

-OH! HEY! LINE! WE'RE BACK! WE'VE RETURNED! NOW KEEP WORKING.

When Stanford Pines was woken in the middle of the night by his great nephew, he knew something was wrong. His first assumption was that Bill had hurt someone. He had not expected Bill to be the one hurt. When Mabel and Juniper carried Bill into the Shack, Ford had half wanted to just watch Cipher bleed out there on the floor. However, in the intrest of remaining in the good graces of his great-neice, he did not.

So he bandaged almost the entire upper half of Bill's body. He wasn't a medical doctor, but he'd learned a thing or two about bandaging wounds during his travels through the multiverse.

So Bill Cipher remained unconcious on the couch for a straight two days.

Ford watched him, and Mabel watched Ford. (Just to make sure he didn't get out his gun and blast Bill into little tiny peices.) Dipper sat on the floor and played solitare. Grunkle Stan was in the part of the house that still worked as the Mystery Shack.

Then Bill woke up. He was tired, confused, and malnourished, but nobody could have denied that he was awake.

"Hey Biiiill?" Mabel said in her best I'm-a-cute-child-and-you-will-love-me voice.

"Fish fingers and custard," muttered Bill. "I mean-um, yeah? What is it?"

"I'm gonna get you some new clothes. I just need you to help me pick them out."

"Oh. Okay."

That was one of quite a few times in his life when Ford thought "This is not going to end well."

Ta-da! There it is. It's a bit shorter then I'd like (only 580 words instead of 600), but the next chapter is probably going to be a fluffy Bill-picks-out-clothing-and-is-a-dork chapter, so yayyyyyy.