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When Mabel woke up, she was greeted with the sight of the most uncreative color there is:
Green.
Not just any green. The green of a nauseous twin brother.
"Good morning Dipper!" She exclaimed loudly, her smile bright as the sun.
He muttered something that, with some imagination, could be translated to "I'm not feeling so well, Mabel".
Or "They're after me brain".
And if there was one thing Mabel Pines did not lack, it was imagination.
"Who wants your brain, Dipper?" She inquired as she shot up into his green face.
"What?" He grimaced unsteadily and pushed her aside. "I'm not in the mood for-"
"Is it zombies? Don't tell me it's zombies! Or vampires? Please let it be vampires! But what would they possibly want with your- Hey, where're you going?!"
Dipper shuffled to the bathroom. He was swaying like a camel in the scorching heat of the desert.
Moments later, retching could be heard, followed by some wet noises.
Mabel scooted up to the closed bathroom door. "Are you alright, Dipper?"
"I'm not-" Coughing. More retching. She pitied him. Who got sick in summer? "I'm not feeling so well."
"You poor angel. But don't worry! I solemnly promise to stay by your side and nurse you back to health, bro-bro!"
"You don't have t-"
"Well, at least for the next fifteen minutes, because then I'm meeting Candy and Grenda."
"That's okay, really. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Just need to get some rest."
"If you say so. I'll still put some soup in the microwave for you, okay?"
"You're the best."
Mabel could feel his smile through the closed door and had to beam as well. She then happily skipped off.
Taking a shower did nothing to help Dipper's bed head. He frowned at his reflection and his reflection frowned back. He then dragged himself back into bed. It was nice, it was comfortable, it was warm, soft, quiet, everything he needed right now.
The warmth surrounding him, lulling him in, he could feel himself drift off again, floating like a bubble, weightless, leaving all shackles of his body behind. His body, that was feeling heavy as lead and hurting just about everywhere. Of course, warriors were supposed to hurt and he was fighting a battle, after all.
Infuriating as it was, of course, to catch a flu during summer. Personally, he blamed the rain that had poured down on him just a few days ago, every drop feeling like an icycle impaling his skin. He had been investigating something in the woods.
On the bright side, if he didn't exert himself now, he would be back to 100 % in no time.
Too bad that a certain voice had to echo through the room just now. It was torture to his already aching head. It pulled him out of his dream and back into cruel reality.
"Now you're getting it! Trees are supposed to be green!"
The sight he woke up to, however, was so unexpected that the boy let out a scream and sat straight in bed, clutching the sheets with pale hands as if they were capable of defending him against the monsters of this world. More specifically, against the monster currently in his bedroom. But they had lost that ability when he turned five. Sadly.
It was more the monster itself, not its current appearance. That, he had gotten very used to, as Bill had showed off his human form in the past a few times already.
But seeing it, him, here, now, of all times, in his already weakened state, he saw no option but to stare in abject horror at the lanky man in the flashy yellow suit, blond hair overshadowed by a top hat and one eye overshadowed by a triangular eye patch, the gaze of the other one, however, steadily fixed on him.
Piercing him.
Seeing right through him.
It send shivers down the boy's spine and he wasn't fully sure if this was yet another symptom of his sickness or a reaction to his unwanted house guest.
The crooked grin on Bill's disturbingly human face only grew.
"Go away." Dipper croaked, his voice husky. It hurt to speak.
Of course his request was being denied, the demon only stepped closer, placing one knee on the bed and leaning towards the boy, dangerously close in his territory, he could feel the mattress sink where the demon was. It felt like quicksand, drawing him closer to the terrifying being.
A gloved hand came to cup his cheek and force him to meet the intense stare of the demon's singular eye.
His heart pounded heavily against his ribcage.
"Though this one's nice on you, too. White as a sheet."
Corners of the mouth curved into a twisted smile. Dipper gulped harshly before skidding away.
"I don't have time for you, man. I'm not in the m-"
"And the sound of your voice!" Bill squealed with delight. "Like your vocal chords have torn from screaming all night!"
"Except they didn't. I'm just sick."
"Sick, huh?" The demon invaded the boy's private space once more as he leaned forward.
"Yyyyyes." Dipper felt the wall against his back and stared at the Bill, unsure of where to flee to now. He didn't really want to leave his bed.
"Oh, you poor thing. Need something? Or, oh, I know!" Suddenly, Bill had jumped back on his feet. Dipper sighed in relief, glad to have some space to breathe again.
His breath caught in the back of his throat however, when Bill's human form was engulfed by blue flames. Instead of searing him up, they simply changed his clothes. When the demon extended his arms now, his expression far too happy for the occasion, he was wearing a nurse outfit.
One, with a mini skirt.
White.
Very effeminate.
Very unfitting.
It robbed Dipper of every last bit of respect he had ever had for that occupation and he felt sorry for that.
Then again, with the stocking and garters showing under the short, white skirt, it was quite obvious that this did not come from an actual hospital, but rather a place that specialized in other things. While it filled Dipper with relief to know that there was not a nurse, tied up and stuffed into a closet, gagged with a single sock and in only her underwear somewhere, he'd rather not ponder too much the origin of this definitely not legitimate outfit.
Golden locks were framing the nurse's cap on top of his head that bore not only a red cross, but also a yellow triangle just behind the cross.
"What the actual-"
"Now, what's wrong with our poor little patient?" The demon clasped his hands together and flashed a toothy smile.
"You mean, aside from highly unqualified medical personnel?" The boy quipped while trying to skid off his bed and run downstairs. Maybe Grunkle Stan would help. By punching the demon's lights out, preferably.
Bill propped a leg on the bed - and was he actually wearing high heels?! and placed his arm on the wall right next to Dipper, efficiently trapping the boy. "Unqualified? Excuse you? I know more about your tiny body than those mindless dorks you call doctors."
Dipper tried to skid away in the other direction, but the demon placed a hand on his shoulder and grasped it firmly, bringing his face closer to that of his little patient. Their foreheads touched and Dipper couldn't tell if the heat in his face was from fever or something else.
"R-right" he forced himself to stutter nonetheless, "that's why Mabel used my own lack of sleep to d-defeat you last time" and god damn it, why was his voice cracking like that?
Bill simply furrowed his eyebrows and raised a gloved hand to his mouth, bronze lips slowly parting for teeth to grab a hold of the white garment and slowly pull it off. Without taking his eyes off his little patient and clearly without having listened to him, either, the glove still between his teeth and now closed lips, he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side and placed his hand right next to his face on Dipper's burning forehead. The boy could feel his ears burning and swallowed harshly when his eyes met the demon's.
The look of what had seemed like genuine concern was suddenly replaced by a smug grin.
"Is it just me or are you hot?"
Dipper rolled his eyes.
"Be careful, Pine Tree, before you catch on fire. It's not your time to burn to the ground yet."
The boy shivered, but managed to muster the strenght to raise his hands to the demon's shoulders and push the mock nurse away from his flaming face.
The moment he took his eyes off Bill however, the latter spoke up, or rather, chirped in an almost inappropriately happy tone: "I know what'll make you feel better!" and suddenly, a syringe filled with a strangely golden-glowing liquid entered Dipper's peripheral vision and had him pale beyond what he thought humanly possible.
A light push and a few droplets of liquid oozed out of the needle. It looked sterile, sure, but Dipper would be damned if he got himself needlessly injected with whatever-the-hell-that-is-anyway. By someone who doesn't know three things about the human body, no less!
So he reached behind himself, grabbed a pillow and smacked Bill right in the face with it. The force of the impact had the demon stumble backwards and, thank God, drop the syringe. Dipper heard a cracking sound and sighed with relief.
"That's how you repay me for trying to help you?" Bill put on a pout that could've just fooled Dipper.
"You're not even helping me!" Dipper exclaimed and threw his aching arms up. "You're trying to murder me!"
"Not currently."
The boy shuddered, then placed his hand on his face and sighed. "If you really wanna help me, Mabel left me some soup in the microwave. Just, I dunno, warm it up and bring it to me. That'd be more than enough, really."
Bill was very visibly considering his options. But only after he summoned a defibrilator which Dipper promptly kicked out of the window, much to his dismay and a terrible feeling of pain shooting up in his leg, did the demon agree to make the soup. The boy would've made it himself, but now his leg was probably injured and besides, Bill had constantly blocked his way out.
The boy laid down, arms folded behind his head and trying to relax.
Maybe this wasn't so bad. It was kind of cute that Bill was trying to help him. Sort of. Probably. In a way. Maybe.
After two minutes of eerie silence, a thought crossed his mind.
Does Bill even know how to operate the microwave?
"Shit!"
And with that, Dipper jumped out of bed, cursed again "Jesus Christ-" as white pain climbed up his leg and kicked him right in the face, or so it felt, and half-jumped, half-crawled over to the door, grateful when he reached the stairs. Gripping the banister as tightly as he could, he awkwardly jumped down stair by stair, at some point fairly sure that the splinters must have left his bare sole look like a porcupine, but he managed. He reached the ground floor, slipped up, kissed the floor boards, but fought his way up again.
He was dizzy, his head felt fuzzy and in three places at once, his limbs were heavy and numb, except for the constant pulse he felt in his right leg and despite the fact that he was panting as if he'd just run a marathon, he kept going. Before Bill did something stupid.
Dipper limped towards the kitchen, only to find the nurse demon crouched in front of the microwave, staring at the working box. Damn, that skirt really was short.
"Oh." The boy muttered, as he realized that Bill did apparently very well know how to operate the microwave.
"Pine Tree!" The noise drew the demon's attention away from the machine. "What are you doing down here?"
"I- Um." He just couldn't tell the demon that he didn't trust him with the microwave. "I'm sleepwalking." He lied.
Bill quirked an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
"Um. Yes." Dipper backed away, only to hiss in pain when his impaled foot touched the ground.
The microwave dinged and Bill pulled the steaming plate with soup out. He balanced it on one hand and picked Dipper up with the other, as if he didn't weigh a gram. The boy made a surprised sound, but gave his aching limbs the rest they demanded and didn't object to being carried up the stairs.
He was then flung onto his bed. That did drew a short yelp from him, which Bill didn't even respond to. Instead, he placed his knee on the mattress, which sunk under the weight, and forced the boy to crawl further towards the wall. A gloved hand on his shoulder forced him in place. The other held a spoon which was dipped into the hot soup, the plate now resting on the demon's knee.
"Say aah." He demanded with a shit-eating grin.
Dipper felt his ears grow hot as he shook his head and tried to wiggle his way out of the demon's grasp.
"Aaah." The spoon poked against his lips and after shooting his nurse a scowl, Dipper reluctantly opened his mouth.
He had trouble swallowing because the soup was still boiling hot, but refused to adress that. If Bill noticed, he didn't adress it, but just kept on feeding the boy.
Over time, the soup cooled down and eating it was no longer boderline torture. Dipper felt himself relax. When the soup was reduced to a small puddle on the bottom of the plate, his eyes drifted closed.
Just as he was dozing off, he felt the weight of Bill's leg leave his bed, felt a hand ruffle through his hair and covers being pulled up and egulfing him in comforting warmth. Warm on the inside as well as out, he rolled to the side to sleep comfortably.
"And when you wake up, we're gonna take your temperature!" Sing-songed his personal nightmare nurse.
"Bill." Dipper managed in a soft voice. "You're sick."
He couldn't get it over himself to tell the demon to get lost.
"I'm not sick." There was the pure heaven of a hand threading through his brown curls again. "I'm twisted." Bill cooed. By the time Dipper's chest was moving in even breaths, he added:
"Sick makes it sound like there's a cure."