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The shouting has become deafening by this point, unbearable. Not to mention all the bad talk about werewolves is getting on her nerves. In a fashion, they're talking about her brother. She believes none of it, Dipper is none of the things they described, he isn't dangerous, and he doesn't even harm Waddles besides that one incident, it wasn't his fault.
But they don't know he's one; they might have a different perspective if they knew. He's still the same dorky brother, and his adorableness in his were-form will win them over.
Speaking of, this whole thing only gave her the urge to cuddle her depressed werewolf brother. His self-esteem probably took a dive.
“Mab…Mabel.” Her brother sounds short of breath.
His grip tugs on her sweater. She turns to him as she broke her attention from the mob and her own thoughts.
She felt a chill as she meets Dipper’s eyes; the color drained from his face. Frightened and shaking as he clutches his stomach, that’s not a good sign.
“Uh…Dip?” she places a hand on his shoulder, he flinches. “What’s happening?”
“It wore off…”
“The medicine?”
“Yes! What else?” he whispers with frustration.
“OK chill.”
She bit her lip, grabbing his hand as Dipper braces himself to hold back the changes. Mabel looks around the crowd sheepishly; nobody has their eyes on them, so at least no one notices that Dip-dop is acting strangely. And she will like to keep it that way; she doesn’t want an angry mob taking her brother away.
“I…I can’t hold it back that long you know…” he says under his breath.
“I'm trying to sneak you out, OK? Give me a sec.”
“I don’t think I have a second.”
Mabel made a quiet distressed groan, eyeing him worryingly.
“Didn’t mean to sound harsh.”
“It's fine, I get it.” she is rather jumpy.
She quickly pulls him to the right as she tries to make her way carefully through the crowd, Dipper grabs his chest, and his eyes go to the ground, nearly falling over by her sudden tug. He heaves out of surprise, stumbling. It doesn't look like many in the crowd notice; the ones who do show little interest. They don't seem to see anything suspicious with their behavior, and he's still human past the turning period; thank McGucket for that elixir. And they certainly can’t hear them over the commotion.
Dipper squeezes her hand, cautious so he won't hurt her by accident. She eyes back at him. His breath visible in the cold. It looks like he wants to say something but does not know what. She can see the dread in his eyes, stressed about turning in public.
“You might have to leave me behind if it comes to it.” he mutters.
“Don’t get dramatic.”
She jumps when an unknown figure grabs her shoulder; she quickly turns around and clutches Dipper.
“Where are ya planning on going?”
The twins feel at ease when they meet the concerned look of their Grunkle.
“Grunkle Stan!” She exclaims.
“You getting bored of this too?”
“That's not…” she stammers, turning her gaze back to Dipper.
Stan can tell the kids are in a hurry to leave, visibly panicked. Mabel is hugging her brother closely, upset. He looks pretty sick, like he had food poisoning, and fearful as he looks up to the night sky.
He quickly understood their situation, and his eyes grow big.
He knows that fear in the kid’s eyes.
“Is he?” he whispers.
“Yeah…”
He turns serious.
“You’re not going to get him home in time on foot.”
“I was thinking of looking for at least one of you guys. We were trying to sneak out to the woods or somewhere out of here.”
He kneels down to them.
“Look, I can tell he doesn’t have much time so I’ll handle it. I’ll get him out, Mabel you stay here with Soos or Wendy, or maybe Ford when he’s not talking to these guys. Your brother is gonna be fine, so just stay safe sweetie.”
She nods, smiling as Stan reaches out for Dipper.
“Before you go…” Mabel says quietly.
She cuddles her brother sadly, her head on his shoulder. She doesn’t want to leave him alone after that harsh meeting; first thing she’ll do when she gets home, she’ll start giving him her great werewolf therapy and ask him about his feeling on the matter. She’ll cook up more and better ideas while waiting to go back, something fun for the gang.
She needs to let go; after all, his time is limited. She strengthens her hug the longer she clings to him; she isn't going to be with him this change. She might as well give him the comfort now.
And because of this, he can’t bring himself to break away from her.
He weakly wraps his arms around her, trying to crack a relieved smile.
“Be OK bro bro.”
“I hope so too…stay safe with them.”
“Hey bro…don’t feel bad about what they said.”
“…I’ll try.”
Stan frowns and looks away, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish look, clenching his teeth. He doesn't want to separate them, but he feels it's for the best. If she keeps disappearing with him, this town will start suspecting her of being an accomplice or maybe even a werewolf too. He's not going to risk that; he'll fight the whole town if they dare take the kids away. Ford looks rather stressed up there, hope he thinks of something. He doesn't want this turning into a full-on witch hunt.
Needless to say, tonight’s commotion left Stan on edge; that kid’s life is going to get harder from here. Might have to teach him some escape tricks. Though the town doesn’t seem that excited about dealing with werewolves, more annoyed than anything. Sixer has something to build on fortunately.
But he shouldn’t be worrying about this, he has to deal with Dipper first, and he looks like he’s getting worse.
Grunkle Stan gently runs a hand down the side of Mabel’s head; she turns to him with hurt eyes.
He smiles warmly.
“I’m gonna need your brother, pumpkin.”
Mabel's eyes away from him briefly. She carefully lets go of Dipper and steps away.
He scoops up his nephew as Mabel helps her brother over to Stan, carefully cradling the boy in his arms. Dipper places his forehead against Stan’s left shoulder, closing his eyes as he tries to relax; Grunkle Stan pats his back lightly with a soft chuckle.
“He'll be fine.” Stan messes her hair lovingly, and she responds with a shy laugh.
“See you later Dip…”
“See ya…” he responds tiredly.
Stan’s eyes narrow, taking a few steps back, looking over his right shoulder. He turns his eyes back to his niece.
“Remember, stay here. I’m coming back later so don’t worry.”
“I'm not, just get him to the car!” her voice tense and slightly frustrated as her Grunkle Stan appears to not be taking this as seriously as it is. Geeze Dipper's paranoia is rubbing off on her lately. Better fix that.
He flinches, quickly turning around.
“I’m out!”
Stan takes off without a second thought, not wanting to waste any more time or wanting to deal with the wrath of a bunch of crazed young guys who stalk hairy dog men.
He doesn’t need to look back to know Mabel is watching him disappear into the crowd somberly.
And he rather not see those sad eyes.
Dipper grips his Grunkle's suit, fingers sinking deep into the fabric. He doesn't feel that secure in his hold. At times, he panics, thinking he's going to slide right out of Stan's arms. Being thrown and bouncing around isn't helping in the slightest, and the nausea forming adds an extra layer of difficultly. Keeping his eyes shut does help his upset stomach, much to his relief.
He's quickly growing impatient, not that it isn't justified. It's taking longer than it should to reach the car. They should be there by now; it only takes a minute or two. He wonders if he just thinks it feels longer, as his anxiety might be making time pass slower for him.
Stan feels lucky that no one bothered to stop him. With his poor hearing, he did pick up some folks thinking he's taking his sleeping kid back home. Yeah, cute; if they knew the context, it wouldn't be so cute to them anymore.
The kid's grasp is pretty tight; it's actually pinching him.
The pinch turns into a sharp poke, tearing into his suit. Stan grimaces, deciding to ignore it but still lets out a pained grunt.
Dipper opens his eyes, alerted by his sound. The first thing to meet his eyes is his formed claws deep into his Grunkle's suit.
He shudders, and he turns cold, feeling numb. Horrified, his eyes grow wide, and he squeezes them shut.
“Can you hurry up?”
“I’m old kid, cut me some slack! Be patient!”
Dipper feels his hands beginning to crack.
“I-I can’t hold it back anymore.” his voice going quiet.
“Well, too bad. You’re gonna have to hold it a bit longer; until we’re out of this place.”
Dipper groans uneasily. At this point, his body feels like it's going to explode if he doesn't hold still.
He senses Stan slowing down, leaning forward slightly.
“Kid, get ready to throw yourself in the back seat.”
Dipper opens his eyes, peering up to his Grunkle weakly.
“Good…” he whimpers.
Stan opens the back seat door and immediately shoves him in, slamming the door on him.
He's acting fast, jumping into the driver's seat as he slams his door and buckles. He looks over his shoulder with worry, staring at the kid lying down on his side. The boy shaking as he curls up into a ball.
Dipper stares at his hands, fur sprouting across them, going down to his arms. He moans fearfully as he squeezes his left arm, helpless looking.
“Oh man oh man…I can’t slow it down.”
Stan sucks the air through his teeth, looking around the vehicle anxiously. Someone is going to see him at this point. He sticks out too much.
His attention lands on the blanket Mabel had brought, lying in the passenger seat. Thinking fast, he spreads the blanket out and tosses it over the changing boy.
“Cover yourself, and stay low.”
Dipper eyes his Great Uncle briefly.
“OK…”
Stan cringes at the sight.
“Your eyes are glowing…don’t look out the window and keep your head covered too. Hang on.”
He doesn't hesitate. As soon as the car started, he slams on the gas and makes a mad dash to the woods. Much to Dipper's surprise, he was caught off guard when the car lurched.
He can still hear Dipper over the roar of the engine, his groans louder; he’s getting worse.
He goes off the road, finding a place deep enough in the forest. Stan personally believes this is a better spot at the moment. It doesn't feel safe to drive back home with the kid turning wolf. Someone might follow; he did receive concerned glances earlier in town. Maybe they just think the kid is sick, but they are uneasy after that meeting, so someone suspecting them isn't out of the question.
He doesn't see anyone tracking them down while speeding. That's good enough. No one would wander over to this spot by accident or intent, especially tonight. They're too far from town anyway; Dipper should be able to find some peace here in the meantime.
He'll bring the kid home later if the wolf boy wants to that is.
Personally, Stanley finds the surrounding area unsettling; he parked in a fairly dark part of the woods, only a small bit of moonlight peeks through the darkness.
Certainly doesn’t help the current mood of the situation.
An inhuman groan comes from the boy, a low growl mixed with his voice. Stan feels a chill go down his spine; he wanted to leave the vehicle during the transformation. He doesn't think the kid is getting dangerous. He isn't afraid of him, not at all. He just rather not be in the same room…or car with him when he goes through this. He doesn’t mean that in a heartless way, he’s not going to ditch him. Stan found the change too disturbing; it feels uncomfortable to be this close to him.
Yet he refuses to leave the kid alone; if he left, Dipper might mistake it for abandonment or freak out. He can't have him feel like that. He wasn't even planning on getting too far; he would lie against the side of the car until it ends. Even with this plan, he feels guilt just thinking of moving away from Dipper. He'll take it personally in some way.
Dipper won't find a problem with Stan's company. But in Stan's perspective himself...it's like watching someone getting beaten up and being unable to do anything about it. It feels wrong to watch his pain, he wants to calm Dipper down, but at the same time, he's too mortified to see his body twist like that. He's not even sure how to comfort him during this. Mabel's more experienced at this, wished she taught him some pointers before then.
Only shame at himself and remorse for the kid; he's not disgusted by him.
A peek at the rearview mirror shows Dipper's figure still hidden under the blanket, twisting as the kid starts to growl. His screaming growing louder, sobbing. He can also hear the bones crack loudly.
Frowning, he places his head against the wheel, lowering his hearing aid; he doesn't want to hear all that; he can't stand it. Closing his eyes as he waits for the end, he can't even hear the kid's voice anymore. The sweat runs down his face.
“Shut up…” Stan whispers. No more of that.
The werewolf's snarling is the only sound within the car now. No more screams, no more crying, just the wolf.
Noticing the lack of screams, Stan adjusts his hearing aid. Carefully turning around to see the wolf Dipper, the lump remains under the sheet. Heavily panting, the figure moves, and the tip of his black nose peaks from the sheet, sitting up.
“Kid…Dipper?”
No response; it remains quiet.
What's going through his head? He's not feral is he? It doesn't look like it. He's not growling anymore.
“Dipper?”
The werewolf points his head to the roof, and the blanket slides off of him; the werewolf Dipper howls in a hypnotic-like state.
Nice sounding, but now is not the time for that.
He roughly grabs the boy’s snout, holding it shut. Dipper flails briefly but settles down and faces Stan. His brown eyes filled with curiosity and confusion. His ears lay flat against his head.
“Do you want the town to find you?” He snaps, glaring. “You keep that up and they’ll skin you alive in no time.”
The wolf does not growl, holding still, staring into the stern eyes of his Grunkle. He nods slowly, understanding. He grabs Stan's wrist carefully but does not pull at him, though his message is clear. Grunkle Stan releases the werewolf's muzzle, keeping his eyes on him.
The werewolf recoils and snorts, taking a big breath then sighing. Guess he couldn’t breathe very well.
“Didn’t mean to suffocate ya; just trying to keep you from being tracked down.”
Dipper makes a strange bark-whine, which might be a response.
Stan's guess was correct; Dipper's response was, “It's fine, just don't squeeze next time.”
The kid's clothes are already off of him. Eyeing the floor of the vehicle, Stan notices them piled up. Excluding the blue cap which lies near the wolf, he probably removed them under that giant blanket.
Things quickly got pretty quiet. The wolf's ears flick, and Stan rests his head back on the wheel. Both feeling awkward, Dipper can't really have a conversation with his Great Uncle. And there's no pencil and paper to help make things easier. He looks down at his paws then out the window, now able to focus on his surroundings; he finds this part of the forest relaxing for some reason. Maybe because he's isolated, but not alone. The smells are pleasant, but the car has a nasty rusty and old furniture smell attacking his wolf senses. He stays alert, scanning the area for other creatures.
“You like this place?”
Dipper turns to his Grunkle.
“Bet this place makes your instincts go crazy.”
Stan eyes him, the boy responds by shaking his head.
“No, I don’t experience those sorts of instincts, smells nice though.”
Stan understood he meant no, but the words came out as whimpers and growls.
Stan eyes the floor, then back at the pup.
“You…You wanna get out there instead of dropping you off at the shack?”
The wolf stares silently; he jumps into the seat next to Stan. Plopping down and responding with another head shake.
“Good, I would call you an idiot if you did.”
The pup snorts, playfully pawing Stan, attempting to show that he finds it humorous.
He chuckles at the wolf.
“Yeah, I would think somethings wrong with you. You wouldn’t leave after that chaos.”
He lowers his head, his tail wagging slowly.
“You feeling alright?”
He nods.
Stan smiles; he reaches for the werewolf's neck but pauses before he could touch the fur. Unsure if the wolf would be fine with it, finding himself distracted by the kid's stare.
“OK you're creeping me out again with that wolf stare of yours. You thinking when you do that? I mean I know, stupid question. Just want to double-check.”
He nods.
“Yeah, sometimes I think you’re blanking out or uh…” he clears his throat. “The control thing…”
He whines; he pushes his head into Stan’s hand, rubbing it.
Stan scratches the side of the wolf’s face, his other hand petting the right shoulder of the pup.
“But you can handle it.”
Dipper places his head in his lap, sighing out of his nose as his body relaxes. The old man strokes his head gently.
“Close call tonight.”
Dipper whines.
“Scared me too, I’ve been through worse a few times while living on the road. Think I told you a few of them.”
He gives a quiet bark.
“Yeah, you remember. You’re gonna have to plan ahead better if you want to avoid these messes, you’re usually good at that.”
He growl-groans back at him.
“But you did before we left, ah, you’re going to have to leave a bit earlier, you can’t let them see you get sick every time. They’ll start catching on that something else is up.”
Dipper lifts his head slightly, eyes on Stan.
“Eh well, they expect you to stay at home anyway. Just wish they don’t get meet-ups like this too much.” Stan laughs to himself. “Maybe I’ve should of done that werewolf petting zoo, they wouldn’t be scared of ya and you won’t have these issues.”
Stan finds the pup still staring. He bites his lip.
“What, you think I’m gonna sell you out?”
Dipper remains silent.
“I wouldn’t do that…I would give them a stuffed wolf and run off with the money.”
The wolf makes a playful growl, Stan chuckles, rubbing the pup's chin. Dipper seems to lean into him; he's in a better mood than the last few nights. His mood seems to be improving, still somber, but he's lightening up.
“Heh heh yeah you’re safe. I’m not letting anyone take ya away. If they do, well…They’re gonna face me, and your sister. Heck she would chew them out and tear them out, guilt them until it hurts. Wendy might break their arms and legs, knock a few teeth out, tie their broken arms together. Soos would probably guilt them too and…do something, I dunno body slam them. And mostly Ford if he’s still acting like the big guy in charge of this. Gonna have to go through a lot of us to do something to you. It’s not going to end well for them anyway.”
Dipper growls with a whine in response, at the same time wishing he could be able to say more. He adjusts himself in Stan's lap, and he reacts quite poorly with the large amount of weight shifting around.
“Hey watch it; you’re going to break my knees with that strength!”
The wolf pup looks hurt by this, upset by the fact he might have injured his Great Uncle by just being docile. He wasn't bothered by his napping earlier; maybe he got Stan in a sore spot like a bad joint. He's probably being a grump too, being up so late. Whatever the cause, he doesn't want to agitate him any more than he is. His sensitive ears can only take so much, and he doesn't feel like injuring his friends or family again.
He backs out of his lap and curls back on the passenger seat; Stan sighs at this.
“Stop taking these so personally, you didn’t hurt me that bad. You upset now?”
Dipper sighs through his nose, shaking his head in a dog fashion. Stan reaches over to the back seat, the wolf’s eyes following him.
“Good.”
Dipper freezes up as an object covers his vision but quickly responds with a toothy grin as Stan rubs the cap now covering his head. He fixes it for the werewolf to fit nicely on his head; Dipper’s tail wags in approval.
“Yeah that’s a bit better for ya, you look more like you with it.”
Dipper tilts his head, and Stan responds by playing with the fur between Dipper's eyes. The wolf paws at him, trying to push his hand away.
Stan resorts to scratching his chin.
“I should try talking to you when you’re not a wolf, makes it easier for me. But then I’ll just forget why I even tried talking to you in the first place, I’m not taking notes. That’s yours and Sixer’s job.”
He grows silent, eyeing the woods, then back to Dipper, thinking.
“You…You sure you don’t want to get out and run around here for a little?”
He shakes his head, barking with a snarl.
“Fine, fine, was just wondering about the wolf instincts. I’ll take you home, I’ll watch the others out for ya so don’t stress about us. Just do me a favor alright?”
The pup nods.
“Stay quiet, don’t maul the pig and don’t eat everything in the house. If some weirdo comes over to check, hide…if you feel good enough steal his wallet while you’re at it.”
Dipper looks away, unsure on how to answer him, it needs more than a yes or no, and currently he can't provide any more than that.
Stan grins, messing the fur on the kid’s neck.
“I’ll take you back in a few minutes…need to rest. That meet-up made my legs stiff.”
He closes his eyes, his fingers drifting through the fur. He begins to fall on the verge of sleep but manages to snap himself out of it. The werewolf boy nudges his right arm and pushes his muzzle under it, making a pleased sounding growl. Stan cups the back of the werewolf's head, resting his arm on the soft fur. This fur can make his stress disappear in an instant. What is it with his fur? Nothing else has ever been this soft; it's kind of otherworldly. He would hold him like a stuffed animal if his back and shoulders weren't killing him. Then again, petting the wolf seems to heal his old sore bones. Feels like a scam he would make up, but it's actually true this time. He's more like a pillow; no wonder Mabel doesn't get sore when using him as one. Do all werewolves have fur like his? Kid can't even wash his hair, and yet the fur feels like it's never seen a small bit of dirt in its life.
Now thinking about it, maybe this werewolf stuff can be good for tourism. They’ll go nuts for this in this time of stress.
“Maybe there is a way I can use this werewolf issue for business…you got any ideas that won’t backfire on us?”
Dipper eyes him, giving him an expression that almost comes off as looking amused. He seems to be sassing Stan with that look, a silent insult. His Grunkle doesn't seem to notice. He isn't expecting an answer he can understand anyway. The werewolf growing visibly uncomfortable the longer Grunkle Stan stares at him. Getting a bad feeling of what thoughts are going through his head.
“Maybe I can shave you before sunrise and get Mabel to make a sweater or stuffed toy or something. You lose it in the day and it grows back the next night, it might work. I won’t say where I got it from.”
Dipper's ears lower nervously. He shows his teeth. Sharing his feelings on the idea, he rather keep his fur for his own warmth and comfort. If he even tries to shave him, he’s going to find his shaver chewed up into hundreds of pieces. Though, Stan might respond by forcing him to buy a new one.