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BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
The alarm was blaring, the time reading 06:04 AM. But did Mabel care about how early it was? No, she did not. In fact, she jumped out of bed the second her alarm clock started going off. She quickly got out of bed and opened the door to Dipper's room, she'd expected him to be awake and just excited as her. He loved going to Gravity Falls in the summer! But to her surprise, he was still fast asleep. So she quietly snuck into the bedroom and closed the door behind her, smiling the entire time. She knew that these days, her brother often had a harder time getting out of bed.
So while she was still totally planning to jump on top of him and be as loud as possible, she also didn't wanna be too harsh on him this early in the morning. So she scrapped her original plan of just annoying him until he woke up and walked over. Once at the side of his bed, she poked him. Surprisingly, that actually managed to startle him awake! So she took that initiative to speak.
"You gotta get up, bro-bro. Or else mom's gonna come get you up herself." Mabel joked. Though, it wasn't entirely unserious. Their mom would come get Dipper up before the two of them missed the bus to Oregon. Dipper groaned, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to wake up.
"Tell mom and dad I'll be down in a bit." He instructed her, and she happily obliged and ran out of his room. With the door shut again, Dipper sighed. Once again, he did not feel good. His stomach hurt, he was sweating about 50x more than he already usually did(somehow!), and his throat was killing him. The only thing he was glad wasn't happening was congestion, because that was always a huge pain to deal with. But with his luck, now he'd be congested for a week straight. Slowly, he managed to get out of bed and get dressed.
And while it did take him about 5 minutes to get dressed because he was still very tired, he did manage to do it. When he made his way downstairs, the scent of food actively being cooked made him nauseous. His parents weren't bad at cooking, but he was sick. Eating was the last thing he wanted to do right now, but he would suck it up and deal with it. Mabel had already gotten dressed, probably earlier before he did. Because she naturally had more energy and didn't feel awful.
While waiting for their food to be done, Dipper sat down on the couch next to their dad and pulled his knees to his chest. He felt worse than he did before, but he wasn't going to tell either of them that. He didn't wanna spend the rest of summer stuck in his house like he'd been doing during school, that would suck.
The older man looked up from whatever he was reading about and finally spoke. "Morning, kiddo. You ready to see your great, awesome, great-uncle Stanford In Oregon? It's a beautiful place, I went there for a work trip once." He asked, trying to make a joke. Or, Dipper thought he was trying to make a joke, especially with the way he added "great" and "awesome" in front of Stan's name. Whatever he was trying to do didn't really go into his head in the right way. So he nodded and tried to swallow down his sore throat, which did not work.
"Yeah... it is pretty." Dipper replied. His voice was a little dry, but thankfully he could just pass it off as still being tired if either of his parents asked about it. His dad didn't seem to ask about it thankfully, probably because he sounded the exact same when he first woke up in the morning.
It wasn't much longer until their mom called them in for breakfast, and that was what Dipper was dreading. His stomach already hurt, and somehow he'd have to eat despite that. So with a sigh, he got off the couch and walked into the kitchen. Of course, Mabel was already halfway done with what their mom had cooked for them. Which was impressive if you didn't think about how she was in the kitchen while their mom was cooking.
He sat down at the table and was somewhat hesitant, but he figured that maybe food would help with the stomachache he had. But unlike Mabel, he didn't eat quickly. In fact, he ate somewhat slowly in fear of triggering his stomach and thus throwing up on the table. He'd rather die than do whatever the second option was.
California was hot in the summer. It was pretty warm in general, but summers didn't really make it any cooler. Which is why standing outside at a bus stop in the heat while sick was absolute hell for Dipper. He didn't understand how Mabel was wearing a sweater, it was warm! But maybe the heat was only amplified because he was sick, that was very possible. Mabel was holding a plastic bag of snacks that their mom had given to them, it was a miracle she hadn't dropped it considering she was swinging it around.
Their mom stood on one side while their dad stood on the other, because despite the fact the twins were old enough to be on a bus alone, they still didn't want anyone stealing them from the bus stop. Which Dipper appreciated, because he was still very paranoid about certain things.
Once the bus arrived, both of their parents said goodbye to them and they boarded. "Come on, let's sit in the back. It'll be fun." Mabel insisted, dragging him to the very back of the bus. Dipper usually would've responded more than he did, but he wasn't feeling well and talking was a struggle. Mabel then pushed him near the window so she could be in the isle. He didn't wanna question why she wanted to be in the isle so bad, he really didn't.
When the bus began moving, all Dipper could bring himself to do was stare miserably out the window. But this was worth it, Gravity Falls was worth whatever suffering he had to put up with. Unless it was Bill, then he'd draw a small line. But that triangle was long gone, so he didn't have to worry about that anymore.
Mabel had stopped paying attention to him a while ago and was listening to music on her headphones. Dipper shifted on the bus seat a bit, still staring out the window. But before long, that started making him nauseous so he had to stop. Which was somewhat unfortunate, because he always liked the scenery from California to Oregon. The scenery changes were actually decently pretty.
A couple hours had passed by when Dipper woke up from the small nap he'd taken, and he felt so, so bad. Worse than he had this morning. His hands were fairly shaky already, and his lips felt chapped.
As the bus continued to move, Dipper was feeling uneasy. Even he could tell that what he'd had for breakfast wasn't sitting well, in fact he could already feel a cold sweat forming on the back of his neck. His stomach really wasn't taking the slight bumps in the road well. He was like a ticking time bomb, one that could throw up at any given moment. Before too much time passed, he swallowed and turned to Mabel, who was happily colouring in a notebook she brought with her.
"Mabel, do you have some sort of empty plastic bag?" Dipper asked with furrowed eyebrows, fearing he didn't have time to give her context. He wasn't very in tune with his body about 87% of the time, but he felt something coming from about 65 miles away. He'd completely forgotten about the bag their mom gave his sister that held a bunch of snacks until now. Mabel looked up and thought for a moment, her eyes lighting up.
"Yep! Luckily I'm a genius and I still have the one mom gave us. I emptied it out a while ago and all the snacks are in my backpack, so here you go." She beamed, without a thought. Before long, she was digging around in her backpack to find it. And thankfully, Mabel didn't waste much time and handed him the bag.
Dipper took a breath once he'd had it, his hands gripping onto it tightly as his eyes shut. If he didn't feel good this morning, he especially didn't feel good now. He could feel that odd ticklish sensation in the back of his throat, the waves of nausea that washed over him were intense and unrelenting. The bus went over a bump somewhat hard...and there went the first half of his breakfast. Into a plastic bag that was now unusable for it's original purpose because he'd used it to involuntarily throw up in it. The worst part was, he didn't even necessarily feel any better. Mabel cringed, not out of disgust, but mostly out of sympathy.
"Oh." She stared, slipping her journal into her backpack again and getting a little closer. Most would back away in fear of catching whatever the sick person had, but Mabel's immune system was strong. She could handle it, and even if she did get sick she wouldn't necessarily be upset about it. "You're sick again." She stated sadly, it wasn't something she even had to ask anymore. It really had felt like he was sick every other week as of recent, and it made her sad.
"You could've just told mom you weren't feeling good this morning." Mabel tried to tell him, but she knew that he wouldn't have done that and risked skipping out on plans. Once he'd taken a second to calm down-though his body continued to tremble-, he responded with a hoarse voice.
"I didn't wanna miss out. I like Gravity Falls, and the..." he started, cut off by another round of vomiting. Now, he was hacking up the second half of his breakfast. Despite not usually being moved by something like this too much, he felt tears stinging in his eyes. And it wasn't long before they'd been squeezed out, this was awful. Mabel was somewhat glad that nobody else was on the bus, they would've given him looks of disgust guaranteed. And he didn't need that right now, she knew that.
Unlike before, when they were at home, his face was flushed red. Not in embarrassment, but because he had a fever. The stream of tears that had somehow escaped his eyes without consent most likely didn't make him look any less red. By that point, Mabel had lost any mood to colour or draw anything. So she put her hand on his back while he coughed, she hated seeing him this miserable. She knew he should've told their parents, but of course he wouldn't. Gravity Falls having a bunch of mystery and cryptids in the woods would prevent him from wanting to stay home.
And to an extent, she couldn't blame him, she'd seen him get stuck in the house for weeks on end. Of course he wouldn't say anything, this was his chance to get out of the house without being told to go back.
After a while, Dipper groaned. "This is the worst bus ride of my entire life." He mumbled, his voice even more hoarse than before. He wasn't really sure where was supposed to put the bag, but Mabel had an idea. When the bus was stopped to get gas, she discreetly took the trash can from the front and snuck it over to where they sat. Once that was there, she put the bag in the trash.
"There! Now you don't have to use a plastic bag." Mabel said proudly, clearly enthused with the way the bus driver didn't seem to notice the missing trash can. If Dipper wasn't feeling so awful, he would've smiled. But he couldn't, he was exhausted and sick. Not to mention, his stomach was still uneasy and in pain. You would've thought that 2 rounds of vomiting was enough to get it to settle down. But he guessed not. After a while, he leaned against Mabel somewhat pathetically. But he didn't care if it looked pathetic, she was the only person on the bus to comfort him at the moment.
Mabel may have been the only one available, but she was also generally pretty good at it. When he leaned on her, she pulled him closer as if scared somebody would try to separate the two of them.
It did not take much time for the waterworks to start up again, he managed to bury his face into Mabel's sweater before the bus driver or anybody who aboarded the bus would hear. Quiet sobs that were just barely audible, and yet to Mabel, they felt so...loud. They may have been 13 now, but they were still kids at the end of the day. He was suffering, she hated it. Thats how it often went these days.
"Do you want water? I mean, your throat's probably on fire right now." She asked with a tilt of her head. Dipper swallowed again and nodded as he wiped his eyes and tears away, he didn't want to speak too much. Because Mabel was right, his throat was on fire, it hurt a lot more than it did before he'd ungracefully thrown up. Plus, the sobbing that came from him a moment ago made his throat hurt even worse. She happily nodded in return and leaned forward, her hand just barely grabbing his backpack.
Dipper took the water bottle she'd given him and took a few sips. But even that didn't stay down for very long and he ended up with the trashcan in front of his face. Mabel cringed again, patting his back as he coughed it up. She was honestly surprised that he got past their parents, who'd been a little more overprotective of him as of late with his sudden weakened immune system.
Then again, he could be really good at lying sometimes. So she decided not to dwell on that part and just continued to hold him like an injured animal during the bus ride.
It had been a long drive, and Mabel was super happy when they arrived since her legs were tired. Running up to Ford, who was waiting outside, she waved and started talking in a rapid pace while Dipper followed behind her a bit slower. He still hadn't recovered all of his energy, he probably wouldn't for at least 4 days. That's what sucked about this recent development of his immune system being weaker than it used to be, he didn't recover quickly anymore.
Immediately, Ford sensed something was off. Dipper was shaking like a leaf with a face that was as red as a tomato. He frowned, it didn't take a genius to realise one of them was sick. And from his observations, it certainly wasn't Mabel who was sick as she looked normal, she was bouncing around like she usually did while rambling to him about how her school year went back in Piedmont. Speaking of, he supposed he should really take a trip down there one of these days. Especially for the kids' graduation. But he had pushed that thought to the back of his head to think about later. Right now, there was a rather miserable child in front of him. So with that, he spoke about the subject.
"Is everything alright...? Dipper, your face is... incredibly red. In fact, I don't believe I've seen that shade on a human face before." Ford asked somewhat bluntly without considering how that would sound, his eyes darting between the two twins. The boy in question looked ready to fall flat on his face, his legs didn't necessarily seem very stable. It wasn't long before Mabel responded, maybe only a few seconds. About 6, to be exact.
"He threw up on the bus 'cause he's sick. Twice, maybe a third if you count when he coughed up his water. And he probably won't talk much 'cause his throat hurts too much." Mabel blurted out with no hesitation whatsoever, not picking up on a single social cue that screamed at her to not say that. Dipper was too tired to care, usually he'd protest to try to save face and look "cooler", but that bus ride sucked all the life out of him. And his stomach. Hearing this information, Ford's frown deepened. It couldn't have been a very pleasant experience, of course it wasn't. If he couldn't keep water down, that could cause a multitude of problems. Dehydration being the main one he was concerned about, he would rather avoid a hospital trip.
"I see." He spoke after approximately 35 seconds, bending down to Dipper's level and feeling his forehead. As expected, it was very warm. The fact he'd physically gotten sick made sense as to why he was shaking so much, Stanley had been the same way as a child if Ford recalled correctly. With that, he stood back up and thought about the best course of action. Mabel was holding both backpacks, so he'd probably have to take one of them. Then what was he supposed to do about Dipper?
As if reading his mind, Stan walked out a few seconds after with a look of impatience plastered across his face, Ford could always count on his brother's impatience, it was both a curse and a blessing at the same time. But in this case, it was a huge blessing.
"What's the hold up? Geez, kid, 'ya don't look so good." Stan asked, immediately cringing when noticing Dipper's rather miserable state of existence. Ford simply sighed at the rather obvious statement that was just made and decided to summarise what Mabel had just told him, so he could inform his brother of the situation.
After a few moments of explaining and clarifying, Stan seemed to have processed the information given the rather bewildered expression on his face.
"And your parents just let 'ya come here despite the symptoms?" Stan asked in, what could only be described as, disbelief. He was well aware that the twins' parents loved them, he'd seen it the day he was visiting the hospital they were born in. So with that, shouldn't they have noticed something was wrong with their son? Mabel noticed the confusion in the air growing and intensifying, so she decided to elaborate.
"He didn't tell them he wasn't feeling good and his face wasn't this red when we left." She clarified, and it did help. Ford nodded, he could see how that was possible. He was well aware that Dipper liked this area because of his interest in the odd and paranormal, so that reasoning made sense. Stan, on the other hand, just let out a rather short sigh that only lasted for a few seconds.
"You," he paused, pointing at Ford. "Take care of the kids' bags and I'll take him upstairs and get him settled before he forgets how to keep his eyes open." Stan instructed, leading Dipper inside the home section of the Mystery Shack and leaving both Ford and Mabel alone with each other outside before they could protest. Ford was, naturally, rather curious about this sudden predicament. From what he remembered about the end of last summer, Dipper hadn't been sick at all. And if he was, he probably wasn't there for it.
"Is-..." Ford started, but immediately began to overthink about how we wanted to word the question. Was he supposed to say; 'is this normal'? Or we he supposed to say 'does this happen often'? He didn't know. That was the hard part about communicating with Mabel sometimes, he wasn't sure what response was more socially acceptable in her eyes. Mabel seemed to notice his predicament and smiled, not really caring about what he was gonna say originally.
"Nah, this is a new thing. Mom thinks his immune system weakened or something 'cause he was getting sick every two or three weeks when we were at home. She doesn't know why, though." She elaborated further, picking up a rock and aiming it at a tree out of boredom. She liked being outside in the summer. Well, in Gravity Falls she did. Piedmont was nice, but it got boring seeing the same things basically all year round.
While the two spoke outside, Stan lead Dipper up to the twins' bedroom that they'd stayed in last summer when they were there. It was a sight Dipper was very familiar with, it was much more comforting than his own bedroom back at home. But that was probably because he just generally liked being here more than he did in Piedmont.
Stan, like Ford had done, placed a hand on the boy's forehead and cringed for the second. "Geez, you're burnin' hot." He'd essentially repeated what Ford had said, but in a different and more blunt way. Dipper didn't verbally respond, he was just fiddling with his hands as he sat on his bed. His throat hurt, his stomach still hurt, he was tired, and he was feeling very overheated.
Stan seemed to pick up on at least half those issues and glanced around. "I'll go getcha a pair of pyjamas, maybe a spare too in case you decide to throw up a buncha times again. Stay here." He said, abruptly leaving the bedroom. While he was gone, Dipper glanced around the room. It looked exactly the same as it did last year, he liked the familiarity that came with the room. If he wasn't feeling so bad, he'd be so excited to read one of the mystery novels he kept here. Or Ford's journals for the 50 millionth time, that was still a fun way to pass time.
When Stan returned, he sat on the edge of the bed with the pyjamas in hand, setting them on the bed as well. "They're kinda baggy, that's because I accidentally washed 'em three times in a row. You, uh, need any help or somethin'?" He asked, mostly as a joke because he assumed Dipper would immediately say no. Since, of course, he normally *would* have said no and told him to leave. But to his surprise, Dipper nodded with a sniffle.
Stan stood there for a moment as he thought. "You, uh, still wearin' your...gah, what's it called. The thing that- the thing that does somethin' with your chest or whatever. The chest stapler or somethin'." He grumbled, trying to recall what he was talking about. He knew what they were, but forgot the name of 'em. A common occurrence he had even when he was a teenager, knowing an item but forgetting the name of that item. It was one of the many reasons his father never really thought he'd be successful, but that bastard had (thankfully) died quite a while back.
Dipper knew what he was getting at, though, and nodded as a means of saying he did still have it on without actually saying anything. He debated for a moment about speaking, on one hand, he wanted to remind Stan of what it was called. And on the other, his throat was extremely sore and most likely inflamed or swollen or something of the sort. But he decided to speak despite that, which made his body very upset with him.
"...'s called a binder. Stapler was close, though. Sort of." He corrected. But it was more of a mumble, he couldn't speak very loudly with how badly his throat hurt. And almost immediately, he did regret it because of the onslaught of coughs that were forced out of his throat. For the millionth time that day, Stan cringed. Not because he no longer wanted to be involved, but because that soft and pained voice reminded him of when he was a child who'd just thrown up and had sought out his ma for comfort.
"Stop talkin', you're gonna make it hurt more. Lemme look at your throat." Stan replied while lifting the kid's head. Based on what he was seeing, it was not a pretty sight. Eventually, he let go with a frown that somehow managed to deepen. He and strep throat were all too familiar with each other, because either he or Ford got it every 2 months when they were kids. Which, as a result, left their mother to deal with the aftermath of it. But even then, he'd never seen it this bad.
"Geez, you've got a bad case of strep. And if you've been gettin' sick easier lately, I wouldn't be surprised if 'ya caught a cold at the same time." He finally concluded. Hearing this didn't surprise Dipper in the slightest, though he was a little shocked it wasn't a 103° hospitalisation level fever like it was about two months ago. That hadn't been fun, and he wasn't even conscious most of the time.
Stan stood up from the bed shortly after, it hadn't taken long for him to get tired of sitting. "Let's get 'ya changed and then you can lay down. 'Cause I'm gonna bet that you're not any happier sittin' up." He added on, the set of pyjamas he'd held were placed onto the bed. It hadn't taken long for Dipper to get changed, fortunately.
But it also hadn't taken very long for him to pass the hell out on top of Stan, either. Stan would've moved him, but the kid probably had enough movement for a little while. And it's not like he wanted to wake him up, either. He'd once again been reminded of his own childhood, when he'd cry to his ma whenever his father wasn't around. The way she'd sing him to sleep, it brought back memories. But he was glad that the twins wouldn't have to deal with someone like his father, they had good lives. He was happy about that.
So he'd stay for a bit, maybe a while. Stan wasn't going anywhere until Dipper felt good enough to not pass out unexpectedly.