A/N: Wow, these updates weren't far apart at all were they? Now for another month break.

...

"-he alright?"

"-worry miss…be fine…night's rest."

Dipper heard voices cut through the heavy fog clouding his mind.

"Does…often drink underage…"

"…can't understand why…"

He knew that voice, but he the twisted fragments of his brain couldn't put together why she was worried about him, or why she was crying.

"-his name, ma'am?" A deeper voice asked.

He fumbled a hand about, unable to feel the grass beneath him anymore. Where was he? Home? How? He tried to move his head, and instantly regretted it as a wave of nausea crashed into him coupled with a blinding dull ache in his forehead, he groaned involuntarily.

"Dipper?" Somebody grabbed his flailing hand between their own, their skin was soft, their touch soothing.

Mabel, he winced. He couldn't deal with this now, couldn't she just hate him a bit longer?

"I think that'll…all then, ma'am." The deeper voice spoke again. He risked opening one eye slightly, only to be met with more pain. He saw enough of a uniform to realise it was a cop though. There was also a paramedic packing a bag and leaving with the policeman in tow.

What the hell had he done, couldn't he get anything right lately?

"Let him get some rest, I don't doubt you had a hand in this somewhere."

He frowned, somewhere lost in the flurry of his confused mind, he recognised that as the voice of that woman who hadn't started charging them rent yet, that one who they'd lived with for years, what do you call her? Oh yeah, mom.

"You're right, for once." Mabel replied, rubbing the top of his hand softly.

He wanted to see her, but he wasn't sure he could take another bout of the pain that came with sight right now.

"I wish you'd just leave him alone, you've never been anything but trouble." His mom snapped.

Fuck it, he thought.

Dipper forced his eyes open. Mabel and his mom noticed, leaning closer, worry clear on their faces.

"Fuck off mom." He managed, voice scratching from a dry and hoarse throat.

Mabel's lips curled in the ghost of a smile and his mother frowned and stalked from the room. He grinned weakly as sleep took him again.

…

This was it, Mabel thought. The last day.

Well, it wasn't the last day, but it was the day of the final prom so it felt very…final.

She looked herself up and down in the full-length mirror in her room, twirling slightly. Mabel had never worn anything like this before, but there was a first time for everything. The dress she'd finally bit the bullet and bought was a long, sleek and black, reaching down to her ankles. It hugged every curve and contour on her body, not unattractively. It left her shoulders bare, instead having two bands that ran around her upper-arms. It was fairly plain, but elegant, she liked to think.

Mostly she knew she was just trying to distract herself. It was a load off her mind to know Dipper was alright, but still…

She'd been so scared at first, when he'd been brought home like that, half-ranting and muttering to himself about Grunkle Stan of all people, abandoning him and drinking all his alcohol. He'd also been saying…other things.

She began to undress again, changing into a more casual pair of three-quarter length jeans and a sleeveless top. She threw on a large blue sweater that hung off one shoulder, for good measure.

Mabel wasn't sure what to do anymore, Dipper had done all this because of her. He'd rambled and cried out about being sorry and wanting to fix things, wanting to be together and…other things. She blushed at the thought.

It was only a blessing he'd never thought to say who he was talking about in his delirium. But she knew.

Times like this she really realised just how much they were made for each other. The deluded, brainless, broken pair of them.

It made her feel complete in ways she couldn't even begin to explain, knowing that somewhere, Dipper did want to be with her, to move forward together. She just wished he hadn't had to risk his life to come to terms with it. And there was of course the chance that once he woke up and got thinking again he'd try to bury his feelings again.

She sighed, she wanted nothing more than to stay home with him today, they needed to talk, but she had to meet up with the band to get in some final rehearsing for tonight. Mabel wondered whether her brother would even show up at all, after what he'd been through.

Well, she thought, as she packed up and dress and slung her guitar bag over her shoulder, she could hope.

…

Dipper groaned, clutching his forehead as he tried to sit up. He felt hands on his shoulders, steadying him and helping him sit with his back against the headboard of the bed.

"Mabel?" He grunted, eyes coming into focus.

"No, dear." His mother shook her head.

"Oh, you." Dipper batted her hands away, regarding the woman dispassionately.

"Children didn't used to speak to their mothers that way."

"Show me a mother." He cut back.

She flinched slightly, but ignored him.

"I was worried about you."

"I'm touched."

"What were you doing, drinking underage, and out there alone?"

"Well it's not like there was ever a maternal figure in my life who spends three-quarters of her time drunk is there?" He saw her arm twitch, as if to slap him. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Go on, do it."

She recoiled, stiffly.

"I have never hit my son." His mom insisted.

"You've hit your daughter." He replied, bluntly. "Dad didn't even do that, not that he stuck around long enough to bother."

His mother looked away, unblinking.

"Must you talk that way about your family?"

"I cried for whatever kind of "family" we were a long time ago, mom. Mabel is all the family I have left." He looked down.

"Do you hate me?"

He glanced up at her, she was watching him closely. He shut his eyes.

"No." He answered, eventually. "Whatever else you are, you're still my mom."

Dipper pulled the bedcovers aside. He wasn't sure what time it was, but he had to get ready for tonight.

"Then why-" She pressed, but he cut her off.

"I don't hate you, but I can't forgive you for choosing between us. I can't forgive you for picking me over her." He pulled open his closet, digging through it for a decent shirt. "I don't know why, or how, I don't care anymore either."

"I didn't leave."

"No, that would have meant being unable to bully my sister." He found a reasonably formal looking white shirt and began buttoning it up. "We're leaving. Both of us, for college, once we work things out."

He looked at her briefly, gauging her reaction, but there wasn't any.

"Together?" His mom asked, voice neutral.

He paused, thinking over the last week, and the almighty mess he'd made of things. He thought of the years they'd known one another. The time they'd spent as brother and sister and…more. He thought of what he'd put himself through last night, what he'd accepted. And he thought of what he hoped for the future, their future.

"I hope so." He replied, simply.

"Shouldn't you really be catching up on your sleep?" She asked, in an uncharacteristic tone of motherly concern.

"Probably. Going anyway." Dipper fumbled with a tie, trying to make himself vaguely presentable. He ran a hand through his messy hair, deciding it'd do because it was always messy anyway.

"At least eat something."

He went to object, but his stomach growled in protest. Admittedly, he hadn't eaten since yesterday afternoon and it must have been early evening now, if the orange glow through the blinds on his window were any judge.

"I'll eat something on the way." He ducked back to his bedside table and grabbed his phone, fully expecting the dozen or so missed calls from Nick, and one text from Dave consisting of a few curses, congratulations on becoming a public drunkard and a small picture of a thumbs up. "Nice." He mumbled.

"Are you and Mabel still fighting?"

"…I hope not." He replied, momentarily unsure.

"You said a lot, when they brought you in." She said, suddenly changing tack.

He paused. Again, there wasn't anything…off in her tone.

"I did?"

"You were talking about somebody, somebody you cared a great deal about. Who?" His mother wasn't demanding an answer, the question was again, totally neutral.

"There's a girl at school." He answered, not entirely lying.

"Do I know her?"

"…not really, no." He answered, glancing back at her.

"She sounds like something special, maybe you should fix things up with her."

"I'm going to try." He replied, slowly. They held each other's gaze during the careful exchange, neither blinking or looking away.

Dipper finally broke the stalemate, reaching for a smart-ish black jacket and slinging it over his shoulder.

"I've got to go, mom."

"I know, dear." She replied, totally calm.

He stopped at the door, feeling he should say something, but decided against it. As he shut the door gently behind him, he heard the quiet sobs begin. As Dipper descended the stairs, he wondered if he'd be a better person if he went back to console her but as he reached the front door, all he could think was that it didn't really matter anyway. Nobody was perfect.