Hello hello! 'tis I, the mysterious disappearing Liviyan! So I have found a new obsession: that little cartoon on Disney Channel. Yeah, you know the one.
What? You don't? Oh. Well then, I'll tell you: Gravity Falls! Yep, that show is just...I had lowered my expectations of cartoons, recently, in terms of content. And Gravity Falls just surpassed ALL of those expectations. It has beautiful scenery and art; it has amazing characters with development; and the show has great entertainment that challenges you to think-I can't begin to explain the theories fans have come up with, all amazing. It has continuity, which I like, and it's entertaining for both kids and adults alike.
So, naturally, a fic came to my mind, and I wanted this one to address the closeness of the Pines Twins on the show. While I absolutely adore Mabel (who WOULDN'T?) I have to say Dipper is my favorite, because I can relate to him easier. And these two have the most adorable relationship as siblings. I love it so much, I desperately wish I had been born with a twin brother myself. (dammit, Mom and Dad...)
Well, I've rambled enough! Here is my first ever Gravity Falls fanfiction!
Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls. That honor belongs to Alex Hirsch, that genius.
"Today's the day, Mabel."
The twelve-year-old girl groaned as she sat up. She felt sunlight on her face, and she heard birds chirping outside their window, but she had yet to gain her eyesight. She made out a blurry shape at the foot of her bed, and as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes she found it was her twin brother, fixing his hat and his vest and grinning at himself in the full-length mirror. "Uh…what? Why are you even awake right now?"
Dipper turned his grin on her, "Because normal people are awake at 10 a.m." Mabel stretched, her joints creaking and popping as she stood up. "Oh, pfft. Normal's overrated," she waved a hand, dismissing him. She rummaged through her clothes, and with an exclamation of "Bloop!" she pulled out a lime green sweater with a sun wearing sunglasses decorating the front. "So what are you so happy about?" she asked, pulling out a lavender skirt and throwing them over her arm.
Dipper, finally satisfied with his appearance, turned to her with excitement practically oozing from him. "I have finally come up with a fool-proof plan to get Wendy to go out with me! Ta-da!" he proclaimed, pulling out a thick, folded piece of paper from his inner pocket. Mabel glanced over his shoulder as he unfolded the long checklist, and read the first item:
#1: Say 'Hi' to Wendy
She raised an eyebrow, her mouth pulled to a frown. "What, another list, Dip? Didn't you, I don't know, learn your lesson with the whole freaky 'Dipper-clone Incident'?" Dipper waved off her concern, re-folding his list up and returning it to his vest, "I know, I know, but that one time had so many unpredictable variables! One of which as Robbie, and now that Wendy broke up with him, he isn't an obstacle anymore!"
"But just going for it worked okay for you before."
"Yeah, but what if I just got really, really lucky? What if that doesn't happen again? Luck can only stretch so far."
Mabel rolled her eyes, "Look. I know you're a very planny-kind of guy, and lists are, like, your favorite thing in the world, ever, but you really should just go for it man!"
Dipper looked almost stricken, "But…but…"
"Hey! Remember the dance we had here, when you ended up talking to her without your dumb list and you had a great time? And the Mystery Fair?" Her brother itched at a bug bite on his upper arm, averting his eyes to the right. "Well…I guess…" Mabel shifted her clothes to one arm and put the other hand on his shoulder, bringing his gaze back to her optimistic smile. "See? Just talk to her like normal, and everything will be fine!"
He hesitated, "You think it'll work?" She nodded, then held out her hand. Dipper slowly retrieved his list again, looking at it uneasily before handing to her. "Well, Wendy's shift should be starting," his eyes darted to his watch, "so I guess I should get on it." Mabel smiled, "Go get 'em, Dippingsauce!"
Dipper returned the smile, now looking more sure of himself and just as pumped as before. "Thanks, Mabel!"
When he ran downstairs, Mabel promptly tore the paper in half, the thickness of it making it a bit difficult. Nicely done, Mabel ol' girl, she congratulated herself before making her way down to the bathroom. She showered and dressed by 11 o' clock—she had never been a early riser, unlike Dipper—and walked back to their room, dumping her nightgown on the bed and searching for an accessory; purple headband, or sun clip? She was feeling different today, so she decided on the clip. Feeling refreshed and ready for the day, she bounded down the creaky stairs two at a time. "Hey, Waddles!" she greeted her pig when she reached the bottom, stooping to pet his head. The pig snorted happily, and she giggled in response.
Mabel ran into the kitchen and made herself a bowl of cereal and a second bowl of milk for Waddles. Bending down to put it in front of his snout, she explained "A growing boy needs his milk to be strong! Like Superman! Oh wait, then your name would be Super Waddles!" She began slurping her breakfast noisily, waving hi to Soos whenever he passed ("Hey, Hambone!") and Grunkle Stan, who was in a hurry to prepare for that day's poor suckers. Her bowl was nearly gone when Dipper trudged in, hands in his pockets and his posture slumped more than usual.
"Heyo bro-bro! How's it hangin'?" she asked in a terrible impression of Stan, inhaling the last of her milk and taking her bowl to the sink to wash it out.
"Oh, hey Mabel. I'm, uh…I'm great! Yeah," he gave a half-heartd laugh, and when Mabel turned around she saw he was rubbing his neck. She didn't register his tone, but instead gasped, "Oh! Dipper, d'you wanna go snail-hunting? We can finally have that snail-race we've been talking about! Waddles can referee," she added, petting him. Dipper shook his head, "Nah, not now. I think I'll just take a walk."
He walked toward the front door, and she bounced along behind him. "Oh, okay! Where we going? Gravity Falls Lake, the clearing in the woods, or ooooh! How about that spooky old church where—"
"Uh, Mabel?" He cut in gently. Mabel immediately stopped skipping and shut up, her head cocked to the side slightly. "I wanna go, y'know, alone this time. I've, uh…I've got alot to think about, and well…" He trailed off at the sad look on his sister's face.
"Oh, okay. Sorry…"
He put a hand on her arm, "Hey, hey. Don't apologize. Listen, when I come back, we'll go to the lake and look for those snails, alright?" He gave a small smile he hoped was reassuring, trying to cheer her up. He hated seeing her upset, but he just needed to get out right now, and despite her hurt at his rejection of her company she understood. He was rewarded with a large, metal-filled smile. "Okay!"
Opening the door, he was quickly off, hands deep in his pockets again. He reached halfway through the front yard when he heard her call out "Wait!" Glancing over his shoulder, he saw her running up to him, and he turned to face her. "I forgot to ask! How did your rendezvous with Wendy go this morning?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows and asking him as if it was a scandal.
Hesitating for only a second, he gave a non-committal shrug, "Ah you know. Same old, same old." Before she could ask what that meant, he kept walking toward the pine trees, and Mabel watched his retreating figure. When she couldn't see him anymore, she returned to the porch and sat on the front step, legs spread out in front of her and resting on her heels."What was that all about?" she asked aloud, absentmindedly rubbing Waddles' tummy.
Normally, Dipper never minded having her along on his ventures into the forest; "Safety in numbers, right?" he would always say. But here he was, telling her he didn't want her along! Well, he didn't quite say it like that, it wasn't like he yelled at her or anything…but he would have been a bit more insistent than this, for sure.
"Hey Waddles," she questioned her pet, who only kept squirming under her scratching fingers, "did Dipper seem a little mono…mono…what's that word again? Monothemus? Uh…well, he seemed distracted to you, right?" Not receiving the answer she didn't expect to get in the first place, she twirled a piece of her hair that was slowly beginning to frizz in the humidity. She felt worry gnaw at her stomach for her twin; was he okay? If something was bothering him, it was her job to make it better, right?
She let go of the strand of hair, and slapped her hands on her knees, drawing her legs close to her. "Ah, I bet he's fine! He probably stayed up reading last night and is in super-tired mode, am I right?" she beamed, and Waddles snorted in response. "Yeah! I'm starting to sound like Dipper, worrying over nothing, heh heh. So, what now?" After having an unofficial staring contest with him, she gasped and grabbed Waddles' cheeks and smooshed them together, "I've got it, Waddles! Let's go make you another sweater! You'd like that, right?" He licked her face, and she giggled and jumped up, "Alrighty, c'mon then! We can even bezazzle this one, I've got more gems!" Waddles followed her into the house.
The sun was well on the other side of the Mystery Shack, the shadow stretching to the edge of the trees, which were beginning to take on an ominous air instead of inviting. The sky was slowly turning a fiery orange as the orb of heat reached the tops of the trees, and the last weak rays of it's light were shining in Mabel's face. She sat in Grunkle Stan's large yellow armchair, Waddles in her lap and watching t.v.
"How do you like your new sweater?" She asked, grinning proudly at the garment that adorned Waddles. It was her favorite deep purple, covered sporadically with different shaped-and-colored gems. Some of the sunlight caught on these and reflected onto the wall beside Mabel, spots of light dancing around like fairies. "I made it with love," she rubbed her cheek against him, then sat up quickly, "Oh, Ducktective is next!"
Hearing heavy footfalls in the hallway coming closer to the doorway, she looked up in time to see Grunkle Stan fill the space. "Hey, kiddo," he greeted gruffly, taking off his eyepatch and set it on a table in the hall. "Where's your brother?" he asked, looking around and catching no sight of the familiar hat that was typically in his niece's vicinity.
"Hey hey, Grunkle Stan. Dipper went out for a walk, but he should be back soon. We're gonna go snail-hunting," Mabel exclaimed, wiggling her fingers. Stan set his eight-ball cane against the wall, and began removing his jacket, grabbing a hanger out of the closet. "Well, hopefully the kid gets back quick. I've got a stain on the kitchen floor that needs—wait, snail-hunting?" He inquired, puzzled. "Why would you hunt snails? Shouldn't you be hunting, I dunno, deer or something?"
"Oh, Stan, you so cray-cray," she chuckled, returning her attention to the televised duck solving this week's latest mystery, resting her chin on the top of Waddles' head. Stan scratched his head as he tried to wrap his mind around the thought of these children finding excitement in snails of all things, then shrugged and began climbing the old wooden stairs to his room. "Darn kids and their crazy fads…"
Several minutes later, just as the first suspect on the program was introduced, Mabel heard the front door open and close; Dipper walked into the room shortly after. She looked up, excited and slightly relieved at his return, nearly bouncing out of her seat. "There you are! You were gone awhile, I was wondering if you were ever coming back but then I thought—whoa! Dip, what happened?!" She gaped at him, her eyes roving over his state. He had various scratches, large and small, covering his arms and legs and was sporting a large scrape on his left knee that was bleeding rather heavily. His clothes were covered with dirt, and leaves adorned his hair.
She got up, disturbing Waddles, and reached up to pluck a large maple leaf out of his brown curls near his ear. "Whaddya mean, 'huh'? You're bleeding!" she gestured. Looking down at himself, he noticed his knee. "Oh," he said simply, "I didn't see that."
Mabel just blinked, hand falling limply to her side. Was this really her brother? Was this the same Dipper who panicked at a stupid cut on her finger, who would run around like a chicken with his head cut off trying to find a way to fix it?
"Uh…Dipper? Are you okay? Seriously, what happened to you?"
Dipper just sighed, sounding a little irritated. "I'm fine. I'm gonna go upstairs and clean up." Tugging the bill of his cap down, he turned and went upstairs—but not before Mable noticed the pain in his brown eyes.
Something was really wrong now, Mabel knew. The gnawing feeling in her gut came back, stronger this time. She didn't try to ignore it, either, but instead racked her brain. What was up with him? She knew that he knew he could talk to her about anything, and that meant anything, which could be something as good as him getting the top score on their standardized tests, or something that made him terribly worried such as hearing a rumor that a local bully was coming for him. Why wouldn't he talk to her, then?
Was it because she ate the last blue popsicle last night, knowing full well it was his favorite? Was it because she threw a slug at him the other day? Or because she let in that goat that wanders around the house, and he caught it almost eating his socks? She shook her head; while Dipper was easy to get riled up, he never stayed angry at her long. But the uneasy feeling didn't leave. If anything, it intensified as she realized she couldn't figure out why he basically ignored her.
This whole feeling of being left in the dark was very new to Mabel, and she didn't like it one bit. She bit her lip and slowly, slowly went up the stairs, one by one. As goofy as Mabel Pines was, she always respected Dipper's space just as much as he respected hers. This time, he sounded like he wanted to be left alone, and she really wanted to give him time and let him cool down.
But she also really wanted to know what was making him so…un-Dipper-like. She didn't just want to know, she needed to know so that she could bring him back to his awkward and sweaty, albeit cheerful, self. She heard snorting at the bottom of the stairs, and she glanced over her shoulder to see Waddles with both front hooves on the bottom step. "Be right back, Waddles. I'm needed elsewhere!" She raised an extended arm and shouted Whoosh! before running the rest of the way upstairs.
To her surprise, when she reached the attic, she found their bedroom closed. It had become an unspoken agreement between them to always leave their door open, for several reasons: it was often too hot and stuffy during the day; if Stan called for them downstairs, they needed to hear it; and leaving the door open meant they were pretty open with each other, and was waiting for the other if they needed it. But as she came up to the door, she stared at the wood and covered the knob with her hand but didn't move, waiting to open it. She hardly dared breathe.
What was she going to say to him? She wasn't very experienced with the whole…cheering up stuff. Dipper was always the one cheering her up. True, she usually calmed Dipper down during one of his anxiety episodes, but those were typically over silly, trivial things. Mabel could tell this, whatever it was, was serious. She glanced out the window, seeing it was now dark outside. Noticing the shape in the window, she shivered and reverted her eyes back to the wood in front of thing she knew was that she couldn't just sit there and stand for him looking so…down on himself. Taking a deep breath to prepare herself, she finally turned the knob at the same time as she gave a little knock that alerted him to her entry. "Dipper?"
Not hearing an invitation inside, she poked her head in and immediately her eyes zeroed in on the boy, lying sprawled out on his bed, legs hanging off the end. She called again, and he made no movement at his name. Mabel took his lack of responsiveness as an invitation to move closer. She slowly made her way over to him and noticed that, despite what he had told her in the living room, he had made no effort to clean up his injuries; his scratches looked red and angry, the blood on his knee beginning to go dark as it dried. From this angle, she could see he had a smaller cut on his forehead. She saw that he had made an effort to clear his locks of the stray leaves and twigs, and his clothes had significantly less dirt on them.
She hadn't expected an answer this time, and almost jumped when he gave her a weak reply but kept herself composed. "What's wrong? And don't you tell me 'nothing'. I can see that you're all mucked up about something." She sat down beside him.
Dipper was silent. The minutes stretched out, but Mabel forced herself to sit still and wait patiently. After what seemed like an eternity, he sat up.
"Alright, fine. Yeah, I'm feeling mucky…and I don't know why! Well, yes actually, I do know why, but I don't know why, you know what I mean?" He let this all out in a rush, eyes glued to the floor, then glanced at her. She wore a confused face as she went over what he said in her mind several times, trying to figure out just what he was saying. Eventually she shook her head, "Can't say I do."
Dipper looked back down, "Okay…so, I did what you said this morning. I walked up to Wendy and I just started talking to her, y'know, to warm myself up." Mable nodded, showing him she understood and that he could continue. "And at first, I felt so dumb and nervous, because I had no idea what I was going to talk about. But it actually went great! We told jokes, flung paperclips at Soos and freaked him out, and all that stuff. So I thought to myself, 'Mabel was right! Well, this is it, go for it!' and I asked her if she wanted to go out this weekend…"
Here he stopped. Mabel waited for him to go on, but he didn't. She felt her heart start to sink as she realized what Wendy's answer must have been. The gnawing in her stomach grew bigger, and it seemed to have spread to her chest. She spoke up, "Oh…she said no, huh?"
Dipper nodded sadly, his face set in a frown, "Yep."
Mabel felt a crushing guilt squeeze her heart."Oh, Dip…I'm sorry," she choked out, putting a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at the level of sincerity in her voice, and how she croaked. "What for? I mean, unless you mean it in the sympathetic way, then…yeah." She blinked, trying to keep her chest from caving in. She took a minute to clear her throat quietly.
"I'm sorry. I mean, I feel like this is all my fault, and I feel awful." Dipper cocked an eyebrow, confusion spreading across his face and in his eyes, "What? What are you talking about?"
"I'm the one who told you to get rid of your checklist and go for it. What if you had kept it? Maybe then you could've gotten her to say yes," her hand slid off his shoulder, landing with a soft thump on the bed between them. She felt pinpricks of tears in her eyes, but blinked them away quickly and held back a sniffle. She was here to make him feel better, not cry for him. "I guess…I guess you without your lists must feel like me without my sweaters, huh?" she mumbled, staring at her shoes.
Dipper gazed at her for a minute or two. "Yeah, a little. But you weren't wrong, really—I don't need a list for every little thing. Don't worry, I thought all of this through on my walk." He gave a deep sigh, and then more deafening silence. Mabel was still fixated on her flats, but she could feel the tangible pain radiating off of him, and it hurt her so, so bad.
"I should've known that she would say no. Maybe I already did. I mean, she's fifteen and is so cool and she's pretty popular, and I'm a twelve-year-old kid whose voice cracks more than a sidewalk." Mabel stole a glance at the boy. He was now staring outside at the starry sky through their triangular window. "She deserves someone better, anyway," he said with finality.
Mabel's eyes widened. What? How could he think like that? She quickly took hold of his hand, squeezing it gently but with an intensity that burned through her. "Hey, now! Don't say that!" Dipper's head snapped back around at her raised voice. Making sure to lower her voice, she felt the words tumble out of her. "Dipper Pines, you are possibly the greatest guy I know! Sure, you're awkward and haven't even begun puberty yet—"
"Gee, thanks," he muttered under his breath.
"—but you're also brilliant and know lots of big words that hurt my brain, and you're really funny and can solve all kinds of weirdo stuff going on around here, and you know how to make me feel happy all the time, and…" she stopped abruptly, and the twins stared at each other in silence, his eyes wide and her feeling unabashed. Man, this was easier than she thought! Don't just sit there, say something, she urged herself. "So…yeah. It's her loss she was born three years too early," she smiled widely, braces shining in the light of the lantern on the table.
Dipper finally cracked a smile—a small one, but a genuine smile nonetheless—and squeezed her hand back. "Thanks, Mabel. But," his smile slid off his face as quickly as it came, and Mabel's soon followed suit, "why do I feel so bad, still?"
"Well, it's your first rejection. It's gonna feel bad, but soon you'll get over it 'cause I'm here. Mabel to the rescue!" she shouted, jumping to her feet and striking a dramatic superhero pose. Dipper laughed and rejoined their hands when she flopped back down, causing them to bounce a little.
"Um…no offense, Mabel, but you've been rejected alot, right?" At her skeptical look, he hastily continued, "all I'm saying is, you're pretty good at handling it. How do you do it?"
Mabel sat in silence, letting the question hang in the air. She swung her legs in contemplation, before bringing them up and folding them beneath her on the bed. "Hm…well I can tell ya, Dipperoo, it's not all smiles and rainbows. Sometimes I get pretty down in the dumpy-dumps, and then I'll go to Sweatertown. But then I think, 'Hey you! Yeah, you, with the cuteness!'" Here Dipper rolled his eyes good-naturedly, "'Don't worry about that stinkface, you're gonna find yourself an awesome vampire someday and have the most epic romance ever'! So I just get up and keep trying. Plus, I have Waddles, and Soos and Grunkle Stan and you to make me feel better. Especially you," she added as an afterthought, rubbing his knuckles with her thumb.
"Huh? Why me especially?"
"You always somehow fix me up. If I have a papercut, BAM! You have a band-aid for me. If I'm upset over a boy or something, BOOSH! You buy me candy and sit and watch rom-coms with me. Speaking of which," she pulled her hand away and jumped off of Dipper's bed, running over to her own. She got down on her hands and knees and rummaged around under her bed. Dipper was slightly afraid she'd pull out a rom-com (as much as he'd appreciate the gesture, he really didn't want to watch one), but breathed a sigh of relief as she pulled out a small white first-aid kit. She beamed and pranced back to her brother, opening the kit and taking out disinfectant and bandages of all sizes. She soon got to work, her tongue peeping out of the side of her mouth in concentration. Dipper chuckled to himself at how serious she looked, and winced as she suddenly dabbed the disinfectant on his scraped knee. "You always make me feel better, now it's my turn to be the Doctor Twin. Yeesh," she made a face as the wound bubbled up, causing him to flinch and hiss through his teeth, "what in the world happened to you?"
Dipper let out the breath he was holding as the sharp pain in his knee subsided. Mabel began wrapping his knee securely with gauze, "Uhm…well, when I was on my walk in the woods, I told you I was thinking pretty hard about the whole Wendy business, and you know how I get when I'm really thinking about something." Mabel nodded as she stood and removed his hat, setting it down on the table beside the lantern and his journal, and began tending to the small gash on his forehead—not deep, thankfully, but still needed cleaning. "I do, Harry Potter. Now hold still."
Dipper frowned at the name, but carried on as if she hadn't said anything, "So I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going. Next thing I knew, I'm rolling down this ravine." He winced slightly, "Ow! Go easy with that stuff!"
"Oh, hush you, I'm all done." She dropped the disinfectant into the kit with aWhomp! before pulling out the gauze again. Her expression was sunny, and her mood was infectious because soon Dipper was smiling as she wrapped his head. He felt it was bittersweet; his heart was broken, but here he was with his sister smiling as if he was okay. He figured he would be eventually—he would go home to Piedmont at the end of the summer, where there was no Wendy. But there would always be Mabel, and he knew he could keep going, no problem. It would take awhile, but he had help.
Meanwhile Mabel, happy to see her brother looking like he was feeling better, handed him a few band-aids to put on his arms while she put them on his legs. "Here, let's finish up. Then we can have a slumber party!"
Dipper visibly cringed as he complied, "A sleepover? Does that mean that Candy and Grenda are coming? Because I don't think I can put up with that tonight." Mabel finished with a band-aid to his elbow and smacked his shoulder, producing a small 'ow' from him. "No, you dork! You and me are having one." Dipper relaxed, soon finishing himself as Mabel stood and stepped back.MUCH better, she thought.
"Good. We can play Attic Golf!"
"And tell scary stories!"
"And play tricks on Grunkle Stan in his sleep!" the twins high-fived. Mabel turned to grab her nightgown off the bed, getting ready to change while Dipper had already removed his vest and shoes. "Alright, ready," he announced. Mabel shook her head, "Someday for Christmas, I'm getting you actual pajamas."
Dipper made his way to the door before glancing behind him, "Hey, Mabel? Thanks."
Mabel smiled, giving him a thumbs up. "No problemo, Broseph! Awkward sibling hug?" she asked, stretching her arms out.
"Awkward sibling hug," he answered, walking back to hug her. After the simultaneous 'pat pat', she challenged him to a toothbrush race after she changed. "You are so on!" he grinned, throwing open the door and racing down to the bathroom.
An hour later, the twins were huddled together, wrapped in a blanket on Mabel's bed in darkness. The only light came from a flashlight that Mabel was currently using to shine on her face, creating a creepy shadow effect.
"And then, she slowly opened the door, EEEEEK," she whispered loudly, exaggerating the noise while Dipper did his best to hold in a snicker. "She looked around the dark room. 'Hello?' she called. There was no answer, except for heavy breathing in the darkness surrounding her. She turned to leave, when all of a sudden…SHE WAS ATTACKED BY THE ZOMBIE PIG!" She shouted, thrusting Waddles into her brother's face.
"AAAAAH!" Dipper yelped, falling backward. Mabel began cackling, "I can't believe you didn't see that coming!" and doubled over in laughter, her forehead nearly touching the mattress while Waddles licked her cheek and jumped off the bed, settling in his normal place for the night. Dipper, while slightly annoyed at first with Mabel for causing such an unmanly sound to come out of his mouth and himself for getting scared in the first place, began to laugh with her.
"Pfft, good one Mabel." He rubbed his eyes and yawned. Wrapping the blanket tighter on his side, he scooted lower to make himself more comfortable. After she could catch her breath and shut off the flashlight, Mabel shifted so she was laying down; they were pretty much snuggling at this point. "What time is it?"
She looked at her Meow o' Clock. "Two thirty."
Dipper yawned again, as if to prove a point. "I'm getting tired…" She yawned as well, "And now you are too. Let's go to sleep so we can go on that snail-hunt tomorrow."
She grinned lazily at him, "I am so kicking your butt tomorrow."
He snorted, "Not a chance, sister." He then shifted so that he had one arm outstretched beneath Mabel's head, and her answer was to settle her head on the crook of his shoulder. After awhile, she felt the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, signifying he was asleep. Looking up, she noticed he had a faint smile on his lips and looked pretty peaceful. Mabel smiled at her handiwork on his head, and his smile, before wriggling into a comfortable place. The last thing she felt before drifting to sleep was pride at being able to fix her brother for once.
"Love you, Dip."
For some reason, I am ridiculously proud of the whole 'voice cracks more than a sidewalk' thing. Please, read and review!