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[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.]

[Dipper catches that, and wonders if he’s seeing things. It’s hard to say right now, with how much his head still feels like it’s swimming. He’s exhausted and really just wants to go lay down, so he doesn’t even argue.]

[Mabel is quick to try and help Dipper off the table, as she has made it her duty, as nurse, to make sure he gets up the stairs without falling. The two bicker playfully all the way up the stairs, which is finally some sign of normalcy after how dire this entire morning has been.]

[Mabel tucks him in, and he puts up with it because he knows better than to argue with her when he is literally wrapped head-to-toe in gauze, and he knows she’s fussing at him so much because she had to see him in such a state earlier. He remembers the look on her face when he woke up, and it probably won’t be something he’ll be able to forget for a long time. So, that’s why he suffers her placing at least ten stuffed animals around him to help him sleep. And also, he guesses they were soft and kind of soothing. HE GUESSES.]

[When she’s finished she steps away and she nervously wrings her hair. It’s a habit he knows she does when something is really bothering her. When he asks, she shakes her head and says its nothing. He knows she’s lying, but before he can really needle her over it, he’s yawning and drifting off. Sleep takes him before he can even remotely get the words out.]

[Why did she look so scared?]

[Dipper sleeps for almost two days. His fever comes and goes, sometimes leaving him to rest, and then sometimes peaking dangerously while he shivers and whines beneath his blankets. All the while he’s plagued by vivid, near-lucid dreams. Sometimes they’re just a retelling of That Night, where he’s running desperately through the forest only for the wolf to corner him and tear him to pieces.]

[Sometimes he’s the wolf, and he’s running through the trees with the moon over head. Sometimes he’s the one chasing after something in the night, stalking, hunting with an insatiable hunger.]

[He wakes up on the second day as the sun’s already begun to set, startled and breathless. The dream was already fading but it’s visions linger just long enough to make him shudder. It takes some time for him to catch his breath and settle down. Once he does he is able to relish in how he doesn’t actually feel as awful as he did when he went to sleep. His head felt clear, the pain that was once all over his body seemed very subdued, and his nausea seems much better. Any nerves from his nightmares have already faded. He’s like a whole new person.]

[That thought startles him, and it gives him a moment to really think. Immediately suspicious of all this, Dipper starts to check his bandages, gingerly pulling at the one on his arm, covering the bite. His eyes go wide at what he finds.]

[It’s practically healed. How long has he been a sleep? There’s- no way, right?]

[Stan and Mabel both check in on him frequently.

Two days is a long time to sleep. They both bring him food and water now and then, in the hopes he might jostle awake enough to eat it. When his fever is at its highest, they get a cool washcloth for his forehead.

Mabel has likely never seen Dipper this sick before. Stan is quick to reassure her though - once his fever goes away, he'll start feeling better in no time.

(Stan and Mabel talk a lot in those two days. Long, anxious conversations over coffee and Mabel Juice, where Mabel wrings her hair more and Stan delivers news both good and bad. He teaches her some tricks. They save a stuffed animal from Dipper's sleepy clutches.)

By the end of the second day, Stan's physically feeling a lot better than he did. The first half of the month is always better for him anyway - he gets further and further from the stupid full moon until he's at peak energy. After the new moon it's all downhill from there.

It's Stan's turn to check on Dipper this time, and he looks surprised when he pops in the doorway.]

Wow, you're actually awake! It's about time!

[He laughs, and leans on the doorframe.]

Feeling any better?

[Dipper has frantically unraveled most of the bandages on his arm by the time Stan greets him, and judging by the way he practically bristles at the sudden sound of his voice, he sure was focused at staring at the scarring.]

[Because that’s all it was, now. Scarring, and a few tender patches of healing skin. Even if he’d been asleep for a week it shouldn’t have healed that much. When he finally looks up at Stan, his eyes are wide, confused and awfully frightened.]

Grunkle Stan, what’s happening to me?

[He knows the answer. He knew the moment the wolf locked it’s jaws on his arm, it was the very last thought running through his head. He’s not stupid, he’s seen movies, read plenty of books, he understands the lore far more than most. It’s pointless to keep playing this denial game that he clung to the entire morning after, where his family scraped his bloody mess of a body off the forest floor. Where he should have been dead, but he wasn’t.]

[And of course now that he can finally think straight again, his mind is rapidly putting together the pieces he struggled with before. Stan’s acceptance of what happened, his suspicious knowledge of scampfires, of treating his injuries, his teeth, and of course the most damning thing of all, and the thing Dipper is only just now able to grasp, his scent.]

[Dipper knows the answer, but he needs to hear it from Stan.]

[Oh, geez. Guess it's time for talking. The false good cheer fades from Stan's face, and he shuts the door behind him. It's not anything Mabel doesn't know at this point, but it still feels better to make the whole thing feel private.

He crosses the room and sits on the edge of Dipper's bed, trying to think of the best way to tackle a question that they both already know the answer to. Eventually, he heaves a sigh.]

What's happening to you...is something that happened to me well over thirty years ago.

[He leans down and pulls up the pant leg of his suit, revealing an absolutely massive scar on his calf, as though something bit his leg and tried to rip the whole thing off. It won't be the first time Dipper's seen it - Stan frequently walks around the house in his underwear, and has an absolutely obscene amount of scars on his arms and legs, even a few that poke out from his chest. But the revelation gives all of them new context. He's spent the whole summer lying about them whenever the kids asked.]

I was lucky to get away with my life, but...that life hasn't been the same since then. And it was already pretty weird, so that's saying something.

[There’s a lot to unpack in just those few sentences. The way Stan immediately drops his wise-cracking and talks to him like an actual person. The way he’s being ...strangely candid. Honest? It seems honest, which is so not the usual Stan Pines, Dipper is used to.]

[Even if he’s thankful for it, he still finds it weird.]

[And of course the answer that both of them new but needed to have out in the open. Dipper watches him come to the bed and sit, pulling up his pants leg to show him the scar he’s seen a dozen times already, and confirm everything Dipper had already suspected. No lying, no arguing, he just. Tells him. It’s probably the strangest part of this entire situation.]

I knew it.

[He falls quiet, before trying to gather up his words and continue.]

I’d seen the signs weeks ago, but no one wanted to believe me. Soos wouldn’t budge, even, and he’s usually so ready to help me with the supernatural.

[Which ...makes him wonder now if he knew and was protecting Stan. He’ll have to chat with him later.]

All this time, I knew you had to be lying about not believing in the supernatural.

[It’s. Nice to be validated after all this time, is what Dipper is getting at.]

[Stan doesn't comment on Soos. He's...sort of suspected that Soos knew for a while, but he showed it in the weirdest ways. Things like bringing him coffee the morning after a full money, or being glad to come open the Shack so Stan would get some extra shut-eye. And apparently, covering for him when the kids started asking about him. It feels weird though, that someone would go out on a limb for him that way.]

Of course I was lying! I literally lie for a living! This town's probably the weirdest place in the whole country, but I know better than anyone that supernatural junk...it can be dangerous. I didn't want you kids anywhere near it, so I figured if you thought it was all fake...

[That they would stay away from all of this and the kids would survive the summer without getting bit by the mailman or kidnapped by gnomes or whatever the weird of the week happened to be.]

...well. It doesn't matter, 'cause I didn't do a good enough job of lying about it anyway. And now you're stuck paying for it.

[If Stan could have done something to prevent all of this from happening, he would have done it in a heartbeat. But, because he was down in the basement waiting for the full moon, he missed the kids heading out to check out the scampfire. He didn't tell them not to go out on a full moon, because that sounds nuts from anyone who doesn't believe in the supernatural.]

[It leaves a bad taste in his mouth, Stan acting like all of this is his fault. Dipper knows better, because he knows that he’s exactly the kind of person to ignore warnings of danger for his own curiosity. He knows he never would have believed the supernatural was ‘fake’ because of the journal, and because of his own desire for the supernatural to be real.]

No.

[Dipper shakes his head.]

I don’t think I would’ve ever bought that, no matter how well you tried to sell it to me. I’ve always believed, and it probably would have made me want to prove it to you even more.

[Because the one thing they for sure have in common, is how stubborn they both are.]

This isn’t your fault, Grunkle Stan.

[Stan appreciates it, he really does. But does that mean he believes it? Not a chance.

Still, he slings an arm around Dipper's shoulder in a side-hug. It means more than he can actually express with words.]

Yeah, well. Either way, it's still something we've gotta deal with. But at least you've got a good month before you really need to worry about anything. And in the meantime, you've got me. I don't know as much about the technical mumbo-jumbo, but I can still tell you what I know.

[And that's got to be worth something, right?]

[Well, if Stan has thirty years of experience with being a werewolf, then yeah, it’s definitely worth something. Dipper is honestly relieved that he’s not going to be dealing with this alone.]

Don’t worry, I’m compiling a list of questions as we speak.

[And like, he’s already on page two of his mental journal. One question does stick out to him first, though, because it’s important for another question he has, which he needs straightened out as soon as possible.]

How many werewolves does Gravity Falls have, exactly?

Uh. ...Two? As far as I know? Me and the mailman.

[The mailman is almost certainly a werewolf. They've never outright talked about it, but they have a certain understanding...or, at least Stan thought they did.]

There could be others, but I dunno. It's not like we hang out. The sensible werewolves hide on the full moon, y'know?

[So the only werewolves he knows are himself, and anyone who's being particularly obvious about it.]

[Dipper is thoughtful, taking that in. Stan can practically see the gears turning in is head.]

So, you definitely weren’t out last night, right?

[It sounds like the answer is yes, which means that it definitely narrows down the suspects of last night’s incident. He had a feeling it was the mailman, but its nice to get some kind of confirmation before he considers maybe throwing a brick through the guy’s window.]

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