Chapter Text
“Seriously, I need to go to the hospital,” Dipper mumbled, staggering after Mabel, who was skipping off of the stage. Grunkle Stan, Wendy, and Soos were waiting beside it, staring at him with worried looks in their eyes.
“That looked really intense, are you okay?” Wendy asked. Dipper opened his mouth to respond but all that came out was a small groan. “Dude?” Ignoring the throbbing pain in his whole body, he started to walk off of the stage, only to trip, landing face-first on the floor.
“Dude!” Soos yelped, rushing over.
Dipper took Soos’ outreached hand to get to his feet. “Thanks,” he mumbled, slightly incoherent.
Stan was by his side now. “Kid, what the heck! I thought that fight was just for show!”
Wendy rolled her eyes. “Stan, anyone with eyes could tell that that fight was real. They fell from the catwalk! And Dipper’s been acting weird all day.” Dipper let go of Soos’ hand, instead leaning against the wall to support himself.
“Listen, I was seeing it through my cataracts and a crappy camera. I didn't exactly get the best view!”
“Dudes, stop arguing,” Soos interjected. “Dipper’s hurt.”
Stan sighed. “Okay, okay. Let’s go get him checked out.” Glancing at Dipper, he said, “You don’t look like you could walk another step.”
“No, no, I’m fine!” he stuttered. “I just tripped back there, I can walk.” To prove this, he walked out to the car, ignoring how much his head was spinning, but his legs gave out and he fell over. He heard Stan say something, but couldn’t make it out as the edges of his vision started to darken. High-pitched laughter filled his ears and his vision went completely black.
The laughter faded and Dipper opened his eyes. He was lying in a hospital bed, Stan sleeping in a chair next to it. I probably really worried everyone, he thought. Ugh, I’m so stupid for trusting Bill. Why would he give me the password to the laptop? He probably didn’t even know it! Why would he want a puppet? I guess he technically did, except it was me and not one of Mabel’s. And why would I trust him after he made a deal with Gideon of all people??? His thoughts spiraled for so long that he didn’t notice Stan waking up.
“...id. Kid. KID!” He snapped back to reality as Stan raised his voice.
“Oh! You’re awake,” Dipper said.
Stan rolled his eyes. “I should be the one saying that to you. The doctor told me about all your injuries or whatever. Why do you have puncture wounds from forks in your arm? Mabel didn’t stab you with forks, did she?”
“What? No!”
“Then why’ve you got ‘em?”
“Um…” C’mon, think of a good lie! “I accidentally closed my arm in the silverware drawer?” That was closer to the truth than he liked, but it was the best he could come up with.
Stan raised an eyebrow. “You had your whole arm in the silverware drawer?”
“I was looking for something in the back,” he said, only to be met with a doubtful look from Stan, who said nothing. Changing the subject, Dipper asked, “So when can I go home? I don’t really want to stay here if I can avoid it.”
“They wanna keep you here overnight to make sure you don’t have a concussion or something,” Stan replied. “Normally I’d just take you home, but you did hit your head pretty hard when you fell.”
“Ugh, okay,” Dipper groaned. “I’d rather leave right now, but whatever.”
Stan patted him on the shoulder. “I know, kid. But hey, you’ll be out in the morning. For now, get some sleep.” Dipper nodded and Stan left the room. As he laid alone in the bed, he felt wrong. As if someone was watching him. He tried to shrug the feeling off and get some sleep.
A couple weeks had passed since Dipper got home from the hospital and the feeling hadn’t gone away. In fact, it only seemed to be getting worse.
Whenever he was alone, he felt as if someone was there, unseen and watching. Sometimes, he felt as if he was outside his body and was merely a spectator to his own life, which felt scarily similar to being possessed. He noticed the triangular windows in the Shack also had eyes on them and started to avoid them, especially when he swore said eyes blinked at him. Forks creeped him out, but he used them anyway because he wasn’t about to ask Stan to buy sporks, that’d be stupid and Stan would laugh at him.
Overall, he was feeling more paranoid than ever. He acted like he was fine, though. He didn’t want to worry anyone and besides, it wasn’t like anything was seriously wrong.