Chapter Text
In a vague, unexplainable way, Stan might sort-of owe those cops a thank-you. Mostly because the surge of surge of affection and amusement he felt passing their car was like a splash of cool water to the face. Woke him right up and if he maybe leaned a little heavier on the gas pedal he hoped they wouldn't make an issue of it.
To his immediate frustration, Soos, Wendy, and Mabel were working on the Golf Cart out front. Between where he parked his car and the front of the shack. If they'd been off to the side he would have just driven straight up to the porch but they were square in the middle of the path and the impulse to just run them over was easy enough to quell as he would never actually do something like that.
Instead he got out of the car and felt as though he was being punched in the face with worry and confusion. The confusion was acceptable, the worry was not. "Yeah, yeah, I'm soaking wet, take a picture it'll last longer."
He couldn't tell if they'd actually been staring at him, it just felt like the appropriate thing to say. Soos replied with a breathless "Mr. Pines, you're bleeding."
"The only thing I need to hear from any of you!" Stan snapped over his shoulder "Is where you put the tea infuser. I haven't touched it in decades so if it's anywhere but the drawer I left it in I'm coming back out here and forcing you to tell me where it is!"
Confusion overwhelmed concern, until they all heard a crash from upstairs. Stan didn't need his budding empathic powers to know that Dipper had picked up his mood and gotten abruptly pissed off enough to start throwing things. It honestly sounded like a really good idea if he had the time. Instead, all he had time for was filling a mug with tap water and throwing it into the microwave for a minute. He spent that minute finding his untouched tea ball and jamming it full of Distressor Beast Underbelly Fur and Flowers. He kept out some fur in case he'd gotten the wrong flowers and needed to try again, but as soon as the water beeped, Stan put it out and put the infuser in.
Then he gave himself a moment to breathe.
It helped. It helped a lot. No one came inside either, and he couldn't feel them. The experience, the emotions he knew weren't his own, utterly alien, were somehow staying with him. He had his own concern, his own anxiety, but it was changed somehow. He could feel the traces of innocence they'd touched his mind with and it took an extra effort to breathe through the rising flood of affection in his chest for all of them.
For Dipper.
He hoped Dipper could feel that loud and clear.
The water had started to go a little yellowish. There was no way to know if it was properly steeped or not. He left the infuser in as he started carrying the mug up the stairs.
He was right outside the door into the attic bedroom when he felt it. Seemed Dipper hadn't gotten over that little bout of rage Stan had infected him with on the way in. It cut off Stan's thought process long enough for him to slam the door open. The noise startled him, or did it startle Dipper? Whatever it was, fear overtook anger and Stan clung to the mug so he could remember to not chuck it across the room and run away. Geez, was the kid's startle reflex really that strong?
Dipper scoffed and opened his mouth to say something. It seemed the anger was back, or at least...what even was that feeling? He stared at Dipper, suddenly possessed with a need to understand exactly what the other was feeling. The second he made eye contact he realized that need was actually Dippers, to understand him. Well, this was an awkward feedback loop.
Feedback loop was definitely the right word, because awkwardness abruptly overtook everything and they both looked away. Stan wondered how much the displeased noise Dipper made sounded like the one he did at the exact same moment. His face had even gone hot from Dipper's sudden embarrassment and that was enough of that. He thrust the mug out toward Dipper and blinked at the loop of surprise that ensued. "Drink it." he ordered.
Surprise melted into curiosity and looped back into irritation that Stan had to take responsibility for. Then Dipper gasped and Stan stared at him a long moment before the pang of grief cycled back around to him and Stan rolled his eyes. Yeah, so sometimes the kid got a bit like Ford and it hurt. He was not gonna let some pointy-faced giant bug make him explain that. So instead he explained "It's a cure."
Before Stan could put a name to the emotion that came next, not that he was trying very hard, Dipper commented "You're hurt."
Stan snorted. "No worse than you." He held out the cup again. Dipper looked up at him and Stan crumbled under the admiration he saw for a fraction of a second before he felt. He hoped the familiar sense of being less than worthy came from him, he also hoped the kid would keep his mouth shut about it when this was over. He went for reassurance. "I've got enough stuff to make myself a cup after. You're good."
"Grunkle Stan..." Dipper said softly, the admiration bursting into affection as Dipper took the mug. Stan smiled a bit sheepishly and let the emotion echo back to the boy, underlined by his surprise and gratitude, both of which cycled back to him, amplified. And around and around until it was like they were shouting at one another and Stan dropped to sit beside Dipper on the bed and pull him into a tight hug. Dipper held onto the mug with both hands but rested his head on Stans chest and breathed.
"Drink the tea, kid." Stan managed after a moment, voice thick.
Dipper nodded, and pulled away a bit. Stan let him, but the sense of realization hit him like a thunderclap. It was a bizarre sensation with the thought attached to it. A moment later Dipper breathed "You called it a cure..."
Stan nodded. "I mean, hey, if you wanna go back to Piedmont able to feel everything everyone in a mile radius of you is feeling and think you're not gonna lose your entire mind then..." he trailed off and halfheartedly reached for the mug.
Dipper tugged it close to his chest though there wasn't a trace of possessiveness in his mind. Just acknowledgement. Followed by a note of curiousity. Stan shook his head and patted Dipper on the back. Dipper smiled at him and for a moment that warm affection cycled between them again and with it a moment where Stan knew neither of them actually wanted to stop being able to do that. Except they had to. Dipper breathed "Thank you." and took a long drink.
The feedback loop cut off, though Stan could still feel Dipper's disgust at the taste of the tea. He took it better than Stan would have expected, taking three long gulps before pulling away with a "blegh." that made Stan chuckle. Dipper looked up at him and asked "Do I have to drink it all?"
"Eh," Stan shrugged. "Better safe than sorry." At Dipper's flash of surprise, he added "What? With how much crap I'd catch if I sent ya home without your marbles? Drink up."
Dipper made a face. "What's in it anyway?" he asked, and Stan chuckled, then covered his mouth. The feeling of disgust was triggering his gag reflex and he had to swallow back some escaped bile. Dipper looked concerned and "Grunkle Stan?"
Stan shook his head. "Some flowers, uh, and some...other stuff. Don't worry about it. Just drink."
Dipper stared incredulously at the mug. "Right, I don't want to know, do I?"
"You don't." Stan agreed.
Dipper sighed and took several long gulps, draining the glass with no small amount of disgust and a tiny flash of malicious glee as he finished and grinned up at Stan, who was looking at him a bit curiously, holding out the cup. "Alright, now you make a cup." he said, a challenge under his tone, and Stan understood.
He chuckled. "Alright, I'll head downstairs."
Dipper started to slide off the bed. "I'll get the bandages for your arm while you make the tea."
"Eh-eh-eh." Stan challenged, shaking a finger at Dipper. "You're gonna stay right here. That ankle is in no shape to be walked on."
Dipper rolled his eyes and slid out of bed, landing effortlessly on his uninjured foot and holding the other up by bending his knee. "Good thing I'm the second place hopscotch champion of four years running."
Stan snorted, though he could feel Dipper took some genuine pride in the title, it was only brought up out of an overwhelming, and thoroughly annoying sense of concern for Stan's well-being. Then he sighed and tried to let the concern echo back into being about Dipper before remembering that the boy couldn't feel it anymore. Lucky the tea was fast-acting but maybe it was a little too fast. So instead he just commented "Second place isn't gonna get you down the stairs, kid."
Dipper looked at him, eyes level, pride wounded, and determination to prove himself to someone he - Stan blushed a little at the depth of that feeling and swallowed at the weight of his determination. Then Dipper said "We'll see about that, Grunkle Stan." Then he hopped to the door, and caught himself on the doorknob. He'd made it look effortless but Stan could feel the discomfort being deliberately ignored and wished again the tea was slower acting, he'd love for Dipper to feel how proud he was without having to say anything. Then Dipper looked over his shoulder and added "I came second to Mabel." Before hopping out of the bedroom and to the top of the stairs.
Stan followed, and stayed close behind him as he used the railing to take one stair at a time without ever lowering his injured foot. He headed for the closet the first aid kit was stored in while Stan headed to the kitchen to dump the contents of the tea infuser into the trash and fill it again with more of the soggy contents of his pockets. It was honestly pretty gross. Then he left the infuser on the counter and filled the cup with water again, putting it in the microwave and heating it the same as he had Dippers.
Dipper entered the kitchen a few moments later and Stan rushed forward to pull out a chair for him. Dipper flooded with gratitude and sat heavily, thudding the first aid kit onto the table. "Sit." the boy demanded, pointing at the chair across from him.
"Since when do you give the orders around here, huh?" Stan demanded. Dipper fixed him with an unimpressed glare and seemed to almost deliberately flick his annoyance and an almost cloying level of unfiltered concern at Stan. Stan chuckled and held up his hands in surrender. "Just gotta wait for my water to nuke, then I'll grab the infuser and come sit."
Dipper glared skeptically for a beat longer than his annoyance lasted, then he sighed and nodded. "You're gonna have to take off your shirt too." Dipper noted.
Stan grumbled and did as he was told, mumbling complaints about being bossed around by a twelve year old. He grit his teeth together when he pulled first his jacket then his over shirt down that arm. Luckily there wasn't a tooth left behind like Dipper had dealt with. Just a long gash with deeper punctures at multiple points that had been bleeding pretty profusely but it'd been almost totally absorbed by his sleeve.
Dipper frowned at it, and Stan could feel his fascinated disgust, like he was looking at a cool bug or something. "'S just a bite." Stan commented. The microwave beeped and Stan went back for his water, put the infuser in and returned to the table. He set the cup down and let Dipper tend to his arm. Cleaning away the blood and disinfecting the wound.
Something surprised Dipper as he worked and Stan looked at him questioningly. It took Dipper a moment to catch it. He was quiet a beat longer, then, as he discarded the wipes, asked "Did that hurt?"
Stan snorted. "Not as bad as the bite."
Dipper was thinking, that much was obvious from his expression, but he was shifting rapidly between disbelief and admiration. Stan kept his expression curious as Dipper worked on bandaging the wound for him. Honestly Stan could have done this himself but he could somewhat distantly sense that it was important to the boy that he return the favor. And if Dipper did a bad job he could always re-do the bandages later.
Dipper did a reasonably good job, and when he was done he finally commented "You're...a lot tougher than you seem, you know that?"
Stan shrugged. "Yeah?" he paused, then, with a bit of a smile "You're not bad yourself." He glanced at the mug. It had already gone that yellowish color, so he picked it up with his good arm. Then he took a deep breath and felt Dipper's disgust at the memory of the taste roll over him. He glanced at him and commented "You're not helping."
Dipper startled, and was briefly confused before realization struck and he laughed. "Sorry. I can't really help it though, it's gross." Stan chuckled and then Dipper asked "Did you uh - did you feel what happened when I drank it though?"
Stan blinked. "Your uh...the feedback loop stopped. You stop feeling my feelings." Dipper nodded, and hesitated. "What?" Stan demanded, sensing a note of concern. "That was all I got."
"It uh -" Dipper sucked in a breath and then "It hurt? No...not hurt it was just..." he paused and then "I couldn't...feel you anymore? It was like...for a split second, you weren't there? I don't know I just -" he paused and shrugged. "I know you uh. I know you're sad...a lot. And I know you lost someone and I just. I want you to know I'm still gonna be here. Okay?"
The affection and concern practically pouring off of the kid was making Stan's hands start to tremble. He told himself it was because he'd been holding up the cup for too long but he knew better and he had to sniff back a growing dampness in his eyes. "Yeah." he said quietly "Okay." Then he lifted the glass slightly in almost a toast and "Bottoms up." and proceeded to chug the entire contents of the glass.
He regretted his decision instantly, slamming the empty mug down and throwing his hands over his mouth. Dipper reached out and patted his knee. "Keep it down." The boy instructed, and Stan swallowed back the bile and the equally awful remnants of tea and blinked, hard.
He was alone.
Except he wasn't, and Dipper's hand was a reassurance. Stan took a couple deep breaths and smiled at the kid. Dipper smiled back and squeezed his knee reassuringly. "Okay." Stan said. "We're both better, You want me to go get the others and call 'em in to watch TV?"
Dipper grinned. "Absolutely."
Stan stood up. "I'll get Soos to carry you in, alright?"
Dipper hesitated, then "If you could...y'know...just ask if someone could carry me..."
Stan blinked, then remembered who else was outside and chuckled. "Sure thing."
Then he headed outside.