ghostharasser | Open Post

[The smell of blood is overwhelming for Stan. Even without being close enough to examine the injury, he knows Dipper's lucky to be alive.

But he is alive.]

You can hug him later, Pumpkin. Try and tug him out without jostling him too much.

[Mabel's already gotten herself under there, after all. She's got the best angle for it. If she can't then he'll rip up the damn roots himself, but it won't come from any sort of supposed "wolf strength" - he does still feel like hot garbage after all. Instead it would come from the same place that lets people suddenly hoist up cars when they normally couldn't to save someone trapped underneath.

And then he would probably immediately pass out, and he's sort of hoping to avoid that.]

Dipper, can you hear me? You're gonna be alright, kid. Wolf's gone. We're gonna get you home, just hang in there.

[Mabel nods and carefully under his uninjured arm to try and hoist him up. Dipper groans, but he’s definitely at least still awake and responsive. He mumbles something not entirely coherent to Mabel, to which she shushes him and carefully eases them both to the spot she crawled in from.]

[From there, Stan should be able to at least reach him and help them both get out.]

[Up close, Stan can see the extent of his injuries. The bite is pretty bad, but he’s also got a number of scratches scattered all over his body as well as a few ...burns? On his hands. He’s conscious but his face is flush with a fever.]

It was huge Grunkle Stan... big as your car.

[The smell of blood is probably still overpowering, but up close Stan might also get the scent of wolf that now very distinctly clings to Dipper.]

[Dipper's in rougher shape than Stan was expecting. It's been a really long time since he was bit himself, and he was stubborn and ignored it for a while. For too long.

But he did get sick, didn't he? He just walked it off like he walked off everything at that point of his life. ...The burns are a new one though.

It's hard to look at Dipper and still hold his composure. He has to take a deep breath before he can reply, and the whole thing is kind of a struggle to sound normal.]

What? Bigger than the Stanmobile? Pfft. No way!

[It's...not quite right in tone. He's humoring Dipper, acting like things are more normal than they are to keep him conscious. As soon as he's able to he scoops Dipper right up in his arms. It's an effort, but it's what needs to be done right now.

He can smell the wolf, and it hits him hard as soon as Dipper is up close to him. It isn't just the scent of a wolf that attacked him though - it's the faint smell that mingles with Dipper's own scent, a smell that marks him of having turned.

Similarly, Dipper might also smell the scent of wolf on Stan up close, mixed in with his usual scent like a horrible cocktail. Stan, wolf, stale coffee, and blood hiding beneath a bandage under Stan's sleeve.]

Why don't you tell me all about it? You keep talkin' and I'll start walking.

[He gestures with his head to Mabel which way they're going, and she keeps close to them both the whole way.]

Edited 2020-11-16 20:21 (UTC)

[It’s odd, that even in his half-lucid, feverish state that Dipper is able to pick up on Stan’s scent in the most subconscious way. It’s familiar. It’s safe. It does a lot to settle any surfacing nerves he might have about the situation he’s in. Instead, it lets him focus on the conversation they’re having.]

[Distantly, something should set him off about Stan’s tone, but he’s just too tired, too dizzy, too hurt to be able to parse it. Instead he does as Stan asks. He talks.]

...You probably won’t believe me, but I ...noticed last night that there was a campfire just ...sitting at the edge of woods. Soos didn’t build it, Wendy had no idea, and it stayed lit for hours despite not being fed any wood. S’weird, right?

So ...I waited and we went out to investigate it only for it to just. Sprout legs and skitter away. So, we followed it because ...campfires shouldn’t do that?

Yeah, that's-- that's pretty weird. Campfires should definitely not do that.

[But they do, and Stan knows. Honestly, Scampfires are kinda cute - even if he wants them as far away from the Shack as possible.]

So, alright. What happened when you followed it?

[Stan guides the conversation along, trying to prompt Dipper to stay awake and keep going while they trek back home.]

[Stan isn’t dismissing him, and it does actually catch his attention for a moment. There’s a pause as he looks up at him, narrowing his gaze like he is trying to understand something through what is still his very hazy brain.]

[It passes, and Dipper continues.]

I guess the ...moving light from the fire caught the attention of the wolf. It cornered us pretty quick and-

[Mabel cuts in, You big jerk! You grabbed the fire-guy and ran off into the woods!]

Yep. And I- Ow!

[She punches his arm, the uninjured one, and pouts, burying her face into the neck of her sweater.]

Hey, hey! I can't believe I'm actually sayin' this, but no hitting.

[Ugh, that feels so weird and gross in his mouth. He loves condoning violence!]

You can smack him all you want after he heals up, alright? And he's gonna heal up, so you'll get your chance.

[Dipper gets no say in this decision. Stan awkwardly bends himself and Dipper so he can sort of affectionately noogie Mabel with his elbow. When they tilt though, something red pokes out of Dipper's vest and Stan almost stops breathing.

Holy shit. Holy shit.]

--So! So, uh. And you what, Dipper?

Edited 2020-11-17 04:18 (UTC)

...Wow, I must look terrible, if you’re saying th-aAT!

[Oh, everything suddenly spins as Stan dips down to noogie his sister. When he comes back up, Dipper curls in on himself, dizzy and nauseous.]

Oh no.

[Stan- and Mabel for sure, will know that as the telltale warning before Dipper is about to be sick.]

...Uh-oh.

[Okay, so maybe that was a bad plan. Stan stops in his tracks and carefully - very carefully - sets Dipper back on the ground where he can be as sick on the forest floor as he needs to.

Hopefully he set him down in time. If not, well. He tried.]

[Its okay, Dipper is actually pretty good about holding it in until he absolutely can’t. So when he’s set down, he crumples and let’s it all go.]

[It’s part nausea, part stress, part whatever else is happening to his body right now, and after he’s done he just kind of lingers there, coughing, trying to hold himself still while his head continues spinning. He doesn’t think he has ever felt more awful in his entire life, than he does now.]

[Once he feels less like he’s on a broken merry-go-round, he sits back. He’s doing a remarkable job keeping himself together, but frankly all he wants to do right now is cry and it’s taking everything he has to not. Mabel coming to rub his back is about all that let’s him keep that in-check, for now.]

...‘Kay. Think I’m good.

[Stan lets Mabel take the lead on the immediate comfort there. She's worried too and it's a good chance for her to help. He can't help but wince as the kid retches though. He would never, ever have wished this on him, and it's hard to watch.

Dipper toughs it out like a champ though, and he doesn't even wait for anyone to ask if he's done. He's always been a little fighter.]

Alright, good. Lemme know if we gotta stop again. I'm gonna pick you up real slow, okay?

[And he does. He scoops Dipper up, but he's a lot more careful and deliberate about it, trying to jostle him as little as possible. The last thing he wants is to make the kid nauseous again. It's only once Dipper's settled that they start to walk again.]

So, where were we? You picked up the sentient campfire and bolted, right?

Edited 2020-11-17 05:59 (UTC)

[He only nods in response, and let’s Stan gather him back up again. Now that that particularly awful fit has passed, he does feel a little better. His guts are less furious at him now, and that feeling of safety has come back. He settles back down and happily picks the conversation back up.]

Mm. Yeah. I held onto it for as long as I could but it’s ...you now, sentient fire. I had to drop it eventually. So I flung it as far as I could and thought I had a chance to escape but I tripped, fell off a ledge and the wolf pinned me down.

[There’s a small pause, Dipper quietly furrows his brow in thought.]

...Don’t remember much after that. It had my arm and then everything went black.

Edited 2020-11-17 06:14 (UTC)

[Stan can't help but sigh.]

Yeah. ...That'll happen.

[That part is extremely familiar. Again, not an experience he ever wanted to share with anyone, but it's not like they can do anything about that now.]

It's alright, kid. We're almost back to the Shack now. We're gonna get you home, patch you up, and then you're gonna have the best nap you've ever had, okay? You just gotta hang in there a little longer.

[...That’s kind of a weird thing to say, but Dipper isn’t exactly sure what makes it weird. After a moment he speaks up again.]

...Hey, Grunkle Stan.

[His expression is still racked with fever, but there’s a very particular, imploring way he seems to be looking at him.]

Do you believe me?

[Stan hesitates. He's not sure what would be better to say. Denying it might get him riled up, and might be a good way to keep him awake. A little back and forth banter about it might be good right now.

But...Stan's tired. Dipper's tired. It's been a long night, and ultimately Stan doesn't have it in him.]

...Yeah. Yeah, I believe you.

[The Shack is within sight now, peeking through the nearest patch of trees.]

[The silence that hangs in the air is certainly something, as both the twins seem to be taking that in. Then, finally breaking through is the quiet sound of Dipper laughing.]

[It’s barely more than a weak chuckle at this point, frankly, but very clear. His expression is incredulous and amused but in a humorless way. In fact, there’s a very suspicious waver at the end of this laughing fit and sounds a lot like he might be threatening to cry.]

...Have to admit. Didn’t think it would be sentient campfires.

[Stan looks down, unsure why Dipper's laughing or, more importantly, why he sounds like he's about to cry. But something about that cuts the tension a little bit, just enough for Stan to laugh too. It's tired, relieved, and exasperated all at once.]

Pfft. Yeah Dipper, it was definitely the Scampfire and not at all the giant wolf part of this story that sold me.

[Mabel holds the last of the brush aside for them as they step into the parking lot, so they can make their way back into the house.]

[Honestly the laugh was almost entirely Dipper expelling how overwhelmed he is with everything right now. Seeing the Shack come into view, though, manages to settle him before he actually ends up getting hysterical and he quiets down.]

Wolves don’t have to be magic, you know. Wolves can just be big.

[Definitely not the size of a car, but somehow joking about that is a whole lot easier than actually letting the implications of it being an actual werewolf, and the fact that he has a bite mark covering 70% of his arm, settle in. If he let that happen his mind would just explode into a thousand different anxious tangents and he’d never recover. He couldn’t handle that on top of how awful everything else was.]

[Stan can work with this. He can definitely, absolutely tease him about this without steering him into what the real problem here is. They don't have to talk about werewolves to keep things light.]

Wolves do not get bigger than cars. If it was really that big and really not magic, you mighta got mauled by a moose, kid. You sure it wasn't a moose?

[Mabel gets the door for them, and without any hesitation Stan heads not for the living room, but for the kitchen - where the first aid kit is already sitting on the table, waiting for them.]

[This is good banter, yes. Dipper will take it before he spirals down the road of existentialism. His tone is very deadpan, even through his state.]

One, I am pretty sure I can tell a moose from a wolf, even in the dark while running for my life. Two, if it were a moose I would have been dead, 100 percent.

[Luckily he is not so coherent that he perceives this convenient first-aid kit as something to question. He lets Stan move him as he likes and is pretty compliant while Stan patches him up.]

[Stan will see, now that he is tending to his injuries, that the bite really is the worst one, and if this were normal circumstances, he’d probably need several stitches. Outside of that, there was a dried blood in his hair from some kind of blunt hit to the side of his head, there were numerous scrapes and shallow cuts all over his legs (most of which have already begun to close up) synonymous with what one might get from running though dense brush, and heavy scrapes on his knees from the fall he’d mentioned. His hands were still burned from when he picked up the Scampfire and carried it through the woods, and lastly his right shoulder bears roughly two and a half distinct deep gashes that Stan will easily identify as claw marks.]

[It’s a lot, and even Dipper is silent as he really takes in just how bad off he is.]

[Stan playfully tsks at him.]

I dunno, Dipper. This looks like a classic moose bite to me.

[He's fairly calm taking in all these injuries. They need to be tended to, but he's probably more confident than he has any right to be that Dipper won't bleed out. He has no idea if infection is something he-- something they have to worry about, but he's never really had any idea. It's not like there's a werewolf instruction manual, beyond the amount that his brother's already written.

But with first aid it's better to be safe than sorry.

He has Mabel running around acting as nurse to keep her involved and not fretting so much, letting her run and get him clean cloths and water, and whatever else he might need. She also brings things he didn't quite ask for, like more colorful band-aids than he has in the first aid kit and sure, she can stick those all over the scrapes and cuts on Dipper's legs while Stan's working, why not?

The bite is the biggest concern - Stan washes that one good and cleans it with something that probably stings more than Dipper would like it to before wrapping it up with expertise. He's done this far too many times.

Next biggest concern is whatever the bump on his head was. Before he even looks hard at the injury, Stan snaps his fingers in front of Dipper's face and has him follow his finger around with his eyes for a few seconds. He watches his eyes closely, checking to make sure he doesn't have a concussion. Dipper was dizzy enough to throw up after all.

From there he grabs two clean cloths and wets them - one to clean the blood from head wound, and one to give Dipper just to sort of hold, to help with the burns on his hands.]

Hanging in there, kid? You're doing great.

Edited 2020-11-18 02:39 (UTC)

[If it’s anything that is keeping him in high spirits while all of this is happening. It’s Mabel taking her nursing duties seriously and sticking him with as many bright and colorful band-aids as she has, even in places where he doesn’t strictly need them, while explains to him in detail why she chose each one and where she put it.]

[He passes the concussion test, thankfully, and probably won’t be in danger from taking a nap once they’re done.]

[However, while Stan cleans out the bite, there is a very distinct moment where the stinging of disinfectant gets to him, and pained snarl that he lets slip is loud enough to make Mabel spook and go still. After a moment, he settles down, but there’s probably no mistaking the flash of gold in his eyes, if only for a moment.]

Don’t have much choice.

[It wouldn't be quite right to say Stan startles - the truth is he was expecting something like that, if his own experience is anything to go by. Seeing Dipper like this makes his heart hurt though. He has to take a deep breath to stop himself from going down an upsetting road with that thought. There's still work to do.]

No, you don't.

[From what Stan can tell, the head wound looks scarier than it actually is. There's blood, but the site itself is starting to heal. Those claw marks might take a little longer though, so Stan patches them up as best as he can, rolling up Dipper's sleeve and trying to jostle him as little as possible.

He saves the burns for last, so Dipper can hold the wet cloth as long as possible. He has Dipper hold his hands out, fingers splayed so the burns can be wrapped without restricting his movement too much. Two non-stick dressings, some burn ointment, and some gauze later, Dipper is all done.

Stan grabs Dipper a glass of water and hands him a couple ibuprofen, since he probably can't open the bottle himself right now.]

Alright King Tut, take a couple of these. It'll help with that fever too.

[Will it help with magic wolf flu? Who knows. It'll help with some things though and that's what matters in the end.]

Edited 2020-11-18 04:37 (UTC)

[There’s a terrible opportunity for someone to make a My Mummy’s A Werewolf joke and its a damn shame no one is going to take it.]

[Dipper takes the ibuprofen, though, and knocks them back, as well as the entire glass of water. Honestly, he could stand to have more, if for nothing else but to get that awful bile taste out from the back of his throat.]

Thanks. Sorry for ...uhm.

[It’s hard to quantify what exactly he’s sorry for. Going into the forest at night? Almost getting killed by a giant wolf? Causing everyone to worry?]

...everything.

[Dipper never wanted things to go this badly, never thought that just following after a harmless Gravity Falls critter would lead not just to something almost tearing him apart, but to ...consequences he might be stuck with forever. Consequences he can hardly wrap his head around yet.]

[Stan's instinct is to reach out with a comforting touch, but it takes an extra minute to figure out a place that isn't going to hurt. Left shoulder? Left shoulder seems alright. So, he puts a hand on Dipper's left shoulder.]

Don't worry about that right now. Just focus on resting up and getting better soon, okay?

[He offers up a smile, but honestly? He looks beat. He looks like he was the one up all night being chased by a wolf. A yawn escapes him, revealing teeth that are perhaps just a little too pointy.]

Alright, alright. Naptime for everyone. You too, Mabel. Don't make me force you gremlins up to bed, 'cause I'll do it!

[The plans are already forming in his head. He'll get the kids to bed and then...hm. Call Soos, probably. Get him to open up the Shack without him so he can crash for at least a couple hours before his first tour. He can force his way through the rest of the day if he gets some shut-eye now.]

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