Shot to the Heart
(August 1-3, 2014)
Chapter 9: "Stone Cold Floor"
"Hold me," Wendy moaned, clinging to him desperately. "Hold me, Dipper. I think I'm goin' nuts again."
"It's OK, it's OK," Dipper said. It was getting dark—outside the cave, the sun was low, the bowl-like valley everyone had once called Creepy Hollow fading from sight in deepening long purple shadows.
He and Wendy had slipped down to the floor of the cavern, a layer of sand over cold solid stone, and he sat with his arms around her and held on tight as she leaned against him. Her agonized fits came on unpredictably, and from her he felt recurring rushes of hot blind anger, cold deep despair, and desperate love. There was no telling what each attack would bring. Softly, with concern, he murmured, "Please let me call somebody. Let me at least call Mabel."
He felt her stiffen in his arms and knew that anger was working within her. Wendy growled like a wolf. "No! I don't trust her!"
Holding on, not letting himself feel resentment or disappointment, Dipper said, "Wendy, she's my sister! She feels that you're like her big sister!"
With a convulsive movement, Wendy grabbed hold of Dipper—her fingers clutched his bare chest and shoulder so hard they hurt—and she said miserably, "No! Remember when we got stuck back in the comic-book con universe? Remember that thing called shipping? She was on that computer a lot, and she was way too interested in Pinecest!"
"Yeah," Dipper said uncomfortably. "She told me about that, but she didn't like it, and we never—you know we never—I mean we don't feel that way about each other at all. Look inside me and see!"
She gripped him even harder and Dipper opened his mind to her. He felt her mind enter his, feverishly reviewing his feelings for Mabel, and she started to jerk with sobs. "I'm so sorry! I know you're not into that, Dip," she said between gales of tears. "But Mabel—I mean—you're so attractive to all girls, there's no telling, even her—"
"I'm not, I'm not," Dipper said, stroking her hair. "You know I'm not. I don't even want to be. I just want to be good enough for you!" He touched her face. "Fight it, Wendy! You're a Corduroy."
"Don't call her, please don't! I know better, but if I saw her, I might—I don't know what I might do! Dipper! Hold me!"
"I won't let you go," he promised. "Fight it off! Be tough!"
She was shaking. "Yeah. Yeah. I—I'll try. Oh, Dip, what's wrong with me? I've never been like this!"
"Um," Dipper said hesitantly, "don't get mad or anything, I'm just asking, but you didn't happen to eat any brown Smile Dip, did you?"
Another flash of dangerous anger. "I'm not a stoner!"
"Yeah, I didn't think so," Dipper said, patting her shoulder. "It's OK, it's OK, we're together in this. Hush, don't cry. It's passing now, I feel it. You'll be OK. I think you're getting better. They're not lasting as long."
Gasping for breath, Wendy gradually calmed a little. "Oh, man, I can't stand much more of this. We—we gotta find out what's wrong with me! I think I'll die if this keeps up. Don't let me do anything crazy, please, Dipper!"
Dipper had never felt so helpless, not even in the presence of the Shapeshifter, not in Mabel's bubble, not even when the ghost was turning him into wood. Tentatively he began, "We could call your dad. He's strong enough to—"
"No! He'd never let me see you again," Wendy groaned. "That would kill me, too!"
"Not going to happen," Dipper assured her. How weird was this? Here he was, less than half dressed, holding onto the girl he'd crushed on for years, and she'd already offered to—well, make him feel good, right then and there—and he felt a terrible temptation, but—
"Robbie?" Dipper asked. "Call him?"
Wendy shook her head. "He'd just bring Tambry, and I might tear into her! Could—you think we could just hide here, live here together in this cave until—until this ends, one way or the other? Oh, God. I can't even think, man! Oh, Dipper, my head's screwed up so bad!"
"If we tried that, I think they'd come looking for us," Dipper said gently. "Sooner or later they'd find your car, and Grunkle Ford or somebody would guess where we were." He kissed her cheek. "But maybe you're getting over whatever it is. It hasn't been so bad these last two times. Just—just don't think about, you know, other girls and stuff."
"Can't help it, dude," Wendy said. She was hoarse from alternately raving and crying. "I don't remember being scared like this for, like forever. Not since I was a little girl. Not even with Bill Cipher. But, man, I'm coming apart here!"
"No, no, you're not. I got you," Dipper said. He was trying to force himself not to come up with plans or ideas—Wendy could read his mind whenever they were in physical contact, and he didn't dare let go of her to plan. She'd set her phone down on a rock, but the first time he'd considered trying to get hold of it and call someone, he felt a surge of fear and anger in her and a determination to smash the phone to pieces if he made the least move toward it.
He couldn't plan, which was as hard to him as it would be for anybody else trying to hold his breath indefinitely. Dipper concentrated on sending her what reassurance he could: It's getting better. You'll get through this. Hang on, Wendy. I love you. Hold on and we'll get through it together.
He felt her pitiful exhaustion and hoped she'd fall asleep. That might be the best thing for her—rest. Lord knew what had happened, sunstroke or exhaustion or maybe even that damn churro, but if she slept some, maybe the—what, toxins, whatever—would clear out and she'd wake up herself again.
But—how much of her old self would be left? This was going to be hard for her to get over, harder than her traumatic break-up with Robbie, harder than recovering from Weirdmageddon. Dipper wouldn't let himself think about it, wouldn't let himself worry, because she'd pick up on any doubt or concern of his. When he'd first come to, when he was frightened and confused, his feelings only amplified hers.
Bill Cipher had once boasted that Dipper would fail when he entered Mabel's bubble because it was a perfect diabolical trap. Only someone with a will of titanium could resist it.
Now Dipper tried to summon up that strength. Not for himself.
For Wendy.
All for Wendy.
The blue shimmer of light appeared in the scrubby valley near the Gack of Doom, the cavern where Mabel had been imprisoned by the Sentivore, and immediately Love God fell to his chubby knees and threw up spectacularly. Even a Gnome would have been impressed, though what came up was no rainbow.
"Gah!" he said, spitting. "I told you! Didn't I tell you? I told her, didn't I, Mabel?"
"Yeah, yeah, big deal," Mabel said impatiently. "I've thrown up lots of times! Get over it!"
"There's that churro," Love God said, staring at the messy puddle. "I thought it tasted off."
"You need to avoid greasy foods," Psyche told him. "Here." She held out her hand, and a handkerchief materialized out of air. "Get up. Let me wipe your mouth. There, that's better. No, I won't kiss you right now!" She tossed the handkerchief and it vanished, but a bottle of blue liquid popped into her hand in its place. "Take this. Rinse and spit. Do it twice."
"Mouthwash?" Mabel guessed.
"A strong one," Psyche told her. "Only available in divine dimension drugstores. Oh, and you can order it on Amazone, of course."
Love God churned the stuff in his mouth, spat, and then glugged in some more.
"I might get some for Grunkle Stan," Mabel said. "He could use it. He's dating, you know."
"Yeah," Love God said, after rinsing and spewing a second time. "Gah, that's better. Yeah, both your great-uncles are romancin'. That just might be my work, you know. Heck, December loves are better than none! I think they're both going to be happy." With a confident smile, he added, "I'm aware of all love relationships everywhere among mortals—"
"Don't fib, Pudge!" Psyche warned, vanishing the mouthwash bottle. To Mabel, she said, "He can catch the vibes when names are mentioned, but he's not omniscient."
"Could be if I wanted to!" Love God said in a sulky voice.
"Kiss me, Cupid," Psyche said.
They kissed. Mabel knew she should look away, but thinking of herself and Teek, she considered it her duty to study their technique, which was quite impressive for an old married couple. When they broke the kiss, Love God murmured, "Aw, sweet, Psych. You know I love you."
She patted his cheek. "And I love you, Pudge. Let's get this done and you come home and sleep in your own bed tonight." Playfully, she nudged him and added, "I could take a scented candle and dribble some hot candle wax on your chest, you naughty boy."
"Ooh!" he said with way too much enthusiasm.
"Kinky," Mabel observed.
Psyche shrugged and smiled. "If it doesn't hurt anyone and doesn't scare the horses, so what?"
Mabel gave her a high five. "Lady, I like your attitude! OK, I know this place. Look at the cliffs over there—see? The dark cave? I'll bet you anything they're in there. This one time we were sort of trapped in there, and we all thought Dipper was dead—Wendy was just crazy then with grief—and they probably came back here. But I don't know why Dipper would. It has real bad associations for him."
"I don't believe," Psyche said thoughtfully, "he had much choice." She closed her eyes for a moment. "Yes, they're in there," she said. She reached out without looking and grabbed Love God by the ear. Before he could protest, Psyche said angrily, "Oh, damn it to Hades! You really messed her up, Pudge. Seeing her emotions is like looking straight down the crater of Vesuvius! She's barely even balanced right now. I think if she saw me or even Mabel, she'd go over the edge and do something crazy. You'll have to go in alone."
"Aw! No, please don't make me. I really don't feel good. I've got an acid stomach, my head's, like, busting, and I think I'm coming down with a bug."
"You don't come down with bugs," Psyche reminded him, letting go of his ear, which he rubbed. "You've got divine immunity."
"That keep him from getting speeding tickets?" Mabel asked.
"Among other things," Psyche said. To Love God, she suggested, "If you're worried, just turn invisible and go in."
"I hate that!" Love God complained. "I haven't done that for, like, a couple centuries!"
"He likes to see his body," Psyche confided to Mabel. "It's a man thing. It's like if you're around a guy much and he's relaxing, you'll notice that sooner or later he'll put his hand over his—"
"Know what you mean, sister," Mabel said. "Say no more."
"She would've made a good Fury," Love God grumbled.
"I will take that as a compliment!" Mabel said. "But time's a-wasting! However, Psyche, if you'll let me make a suggestion, don't send him in invisible."
"No?"
"Uh-uh. See, my Brobro and Wendy are used to dealing with supernatural stuff. If they think something they can't see is snooping around, they'll go after it, and believe me, they're good. And she has an axe."
"Axe?" Love God asked nervously.
"Believe it, chump!" Mabel said.
"Still, Wendy needs to be calmed," Psyche said thoughtfully. "And once that happens, Pudge can safely cancel out the spell. All right. Change of plan. First, I'll go in myself—but I think a disguise is in order. Who would Wendy be sure to trust?"
"Dipper," Mabel said with a sigh. "Dipper for sure. Me, maybe—"
"No, she wouldn't tolerate any girl right now," Love God said. "Trust me on this one."
"But I'm Dip's sister! She wouldn't be jealous of me!"
"Mm, I think she would, sister or no." Psyche said. To Love God, she murmured, "Remember Oedipus and his mom?"
"Threw great parties. Really rocked Thebes! Fun couple," Love God said. "I mean, up to a point. And, hey, there's Jupiter and Juno."
"I know what?" Mabel asked.
"JU-no," Love God said, enunciating deliberately. "Don't they teach you kids anything in school? Jupiter and Juno are married. King and Queen of the Roman gods. They also happen to be brother and sister. And they have kids."
"Huh!" Mabel said. "Don't they all have six eyes or act like idiots or something?"
"No, not at all." Psyche said. "Well—there is Mars, but mostly the genetic rules are different in the divine dimension."
"Psych," Love God said, "come on, we're losin' the light! I'm still real iffy about this, but if we're gonna do anything we better get on the stick—"
"Very well. I'll disguise myself." Psyche snapped her fingers. "How's this?"
"Oh, man!" Mabel said. "You look just like him!"
"Hah!" said a perfect replica of her Grunkle Stan. "Thanks, Pumpkin. Get ready, Pudge. I'm goin' in!"
To be continued