After a few days of trying to hold back tears (at least in front of Mabel), watching her get more tests and bloodwork done, and worrying about whether or not we'd have enough money, I still hadn't left her bedside for anything other than the restroom. I didn't sleep. I didn't eat. Though I did read through the journal a few times, looking for an answer. I know it sounds silly, but I was desperate.

We were now in the Children's Hospital of Gravity Falls. There were little cartoon ponies painted on light blue walls.

The good news was, Mabel hadn't gotten worse in those few days. If anything, the medication she was on was making her feel better.

I sat patiently as she placed puppy stickers on my forehead. Through my baggy eyes, I could see her smile, and that's all that mattered to me.

She sat back and admired her work.

"You're beautiful," she whispered, becoming giddy.

"Are you feeling any better?"

She nodded.

"A little."

Maybe she would get better after all.

Stan entered the room. He seemed...broken. A shell of his former self. I could swear he smelled of alcohol, but I didn't blame him.

"Hey, Kids," he pulled my hat over my eyes and ruffled Mabel's hair. He pulled a chocolate milkshake from his coat as if he had been smuggling drugs, and handed it to her.

"Grunkle Stan, they said she can't have..." I looked into Mabel's eyes as she hesitated to drink it. She had been begging for a milkshake for days, but the nurses had her on a special diet (that she hardly ate- and had to be fed through a tube a few times). I sighed and smiled, poking her nose as she would often poke mine. "Enjoy, Sis."

Her face lit up as she sipped the cup's sugary contents through a straw. It meant so much to me to see her happy, so I wasn't going to argue.

"Your parents were supposed to be here yesterday," Stan sighed. I had never seen him so stressed. I could tell he hadn't been getting much sleep. Besides Mabel being sick, having Soos and Wendy man the shop was also quite nerve-wracking. "Heh...It's almost like they don't want to visit," he chuckled lightly.

The thing about our parents was...

They didn't like Mabel. She didn't see it. She thought, maybe it's just tough love. She loved them unconditionally, but I was the favorite. I loved being the favorite until I was old enough to realize how wrong it was. Them not wanting to visit in her time of need was...typical. Had it been me, I'd expect them to drive all the way to Oregon, flowers in hand, crying to the doctors to make me better. That's why I tried not to get that upset when Stan showed favoritism to Mabel. She deserved it. Sometimes, I would find that Mabel had a black eye or a bruise somewhere inflicted by Mom or Dad (usually Dad). Sometimes they blatantly insulted her, other times, they were more passive about it. They wanted a boy, and I was planned. Mabel, they called a mistake. Sometimes, they pretended to like her, and that manipulative nature was the reason she didn't hate them. I was given more dignity, and I hated it. That's why coming to Gravity Falls was the best thing that ever happened to us.

I looked at my sister. I didn't know what pain was until now. I thought my sixth-grade emo phase was pain. I thought losing my dog two years ago was pain. I thought failing a test after studying three nights in a row was pain.

This was pain in its purest form.

She looked happy. She was good at hiding her sadness when she wanted to. I knew she missed the shack. She missed her friends. I knew she worried about Waddles, even though Wendy wholeheartedly agreed to take care of him. Wendy was amazing.

"Need anything else?" Stan asked her. She shook her head, and he looked at me. "Do you need anything, Dipper?"

"No thanks," I sighed.

"Nice stickers by the way," he chuckled. I felt my face and peeled one off. There was a little corgi on it. You're WOOFderful, it read.

"Dipper, you know, you can go hang out with Wendy today if you want," Mabel grinned.

"No," I insisted. "I'd rather keep you company."

"You're the best," she hugged me, and I could feel that she was no longer capable of giving the tight, constricting hugs she used to give. She let out a small sigh. She loved the attention, but she hated being so sick.

Stan left the room again. He couldn't stay long before getting choked up.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"Dipper, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, of course."

"What...what do you think happens when we die? Do we just...become nothing? Do we remember being alive? Can we think or feel?"

"Mabel...I...," I was a bit shocked at the question, but I shouldn't have been. It was a valid concern, given her situation. I just couldn't get any words out without fearing I might say the wrong thing. The thought began to worry me. What if there was no "other side" and when we died, we ceased to be? And that would mean that if Mabel passed away, instead of resting peacefully, she would just...

"Mabel, you're doing better, it looks," a nurse said as she entered the room. She had long blonde hair and a slightly muscular build. "Keep smiling."

"Aww, thanks, Nurse Rebecca," Mabel smiled. She had taken the liberty of learning the names of every nurse on the fourth floor.

"A few new results came in. Is your parent or guardian around?"

"Grunkle Stan stepped out. He'll be back soon."

"Grunkle?" she seemed puzzled at the unfamiliar term, but shrugged it off.

"I'll go find him," I volunteered. I looked up at Nurse Rebecca. In all honesty, I just wanted to hear the new results. "I'll be back in a few, okay?"

"Right-o!" Mabel replied.

I looked all over the fourth floor before heading down the elevator. I expected to find him in the cafeteria, but I couldn't find him anywhere. I stepped outside of the hospital and he sat on the curb holding a silver flask. I sat beside him.

"Stan, the nurses are wondering where you are," I said. He took a sip and didn't answer me for several seconds.

"I...I can't believe this."

"Grunkle Stan?"

"I wanted to watch her grow up. I wanted to be there when she got married. You know, my biggest fear was that maybe she'd end up old and divorced having to con tourists in a small town for a living. Once I lost Kylie, my life fell apart, and you two were all I had left."

"I thought you didn't like talking about Kylie," I reminded him.

"I know but...losing your little girl just does something to you. It was all because of me and...now Mabel too. I swear, it's like the world hates me."

"It wasn't your fault, Stan," I said. I knew this was a hard subject for him, and he hadn't brought it up in years. "Don't beat yourself up for it."

He pulled out his wallet and looked at a picture as he spoke. It was of a younger, happier him and a little girl in a blue winter hat. She had curly brown hair, dimples, and freckles and had on a pair of blue mittens, a red scarf, and a white jacket.

"She was six. She had so much ahead of her, and I just...I really wanted to go on that ski trip. How was I supposed to know she would catch pneumonia? How was I supposed to know our car would break down in the middle of nowhere, and I would have to watch her die in my arms?"

I didn't know what to say. I could tell he was losing hope, and it killed me inside.

"You're not going to get through it if you sit out here all day," I sighed. He looked at me. "You can't feel bad for yourself at a time like this."

"I know," he replied. "You're absolutely right."

He took one last sip from his flask and stood up. We went up the elevator and into Mabel's room. The doctor was talking amongst the nurses, holding the results in his hand. He had curly brown hair and stubble. His shirt had the name "McCormick" sewn into it. He turned to Stan, and looking at his expression, it seemed like bad news.

"Stanford," he held the bridge of his nose. "You know, this is the worst part of my job...," their eyes met, and Dr. McCormick clicked his pen a few times. He lowered his voice. "I think...we should talk outside of the room. You know...it might be a lot for the kids to take..."

"Of course...," I saw a fear in Stan's eyes I had never seen before. As much as I hated not hearing the news, maybe deluding myself and not knowing the truth was the best way to keep my sanity.

They both left the room, closing the door behind them. In a matter of seconds, I could hear Stan shout something, and the doctor telling him to calm down.

I looked at Mabel, and she worriedly clutched a pillow.

"Don't worry, Mabel," I could hear Stan swearing outside of the room, saying words I had never heard him say before. "I'm sure you'll be okay. You're feeling a little better already, so I'm sure in no time, they'll have you fixed up."

She rocked back and forth, trying to calm herself down. She puller her pink sweater over her head.

"Mabel, come on," I sat on the corner of her bed. "Get out of Sweater-town. It's going to be alright."

She peeked out of her sweater and looked at me. Her voice was slightly muffled.

"Dipper...," her eyes began to water. "I'm scared."

"I know," I held her in my arms. It brought back memories of taking care of her when she had the flu, or that time she tried Waddles' food. I was just as frightened as she was, but I didn't want her to know that.

I had to be brave for her, just like Stan said.

I'm thinking of doing a oneshot about Kylie. Please tell me if that's a good idea or not in the reviews, because I'm not sure.

This might be my favorite chapter so far.

Also, review. :)