Gravity Falls: How to Burn a Pine Tree

Part 15: Wendy

It was almost midnight and everyone seemed to be asleep, but me. Mabel slept in Dipper's bed while Pacifica slept in Mabel's bed. I had a sleeping bag on the floor, as did Soos. I had woken up from a dry throats and decided I needed water, so as quietly as I could manage, I slipped down the stairs and went to the kitchen.

I got myself a glass from the cabinet and filled it up with water. It was down pouring outside and lighting shook the entire Shack, despite the shield that keep the Shack safe from Bill's waves of weirdness.

I sighed and jumped when lighting suddenly shook the entire Shack. Not many people know this about me, but I hate thunderstorms. They're terrifying! I jumped again when I thought I heard knocking on the door. It was hard and loud. How was I the only one awake? How hasn't this noise woken anyone else up yet?

I swallow down my fear, grip my axe and slowly walk over the door, avoiding tripping over on sleeping bags and blankets along the way. I hold my breath as my hand reaches out for the doorknob. I close my eyes and murmur, "You're a Corduroy, Wendy, and Corduroy's show no fear."

And with those words of encouragement in my mind I opened he door, with my axe ready to be used if necessary. "Sorry...Sorry I'm...late..." I gasped horror as I saw Stan standing before me, panting heavily. He was injured, that much was obvious. Blood was dripping from his side and onto the porch floor. "Stan, oh my god, what happens?!" I blurted as I ran outside to help him.

I tossed one of Stan's arms around my shoulder to help support him. Stan's eyes fluttered tiredly as if he was fighting to keep consciousness. "Dipper...bubble..Wheel..." Stan mumbled, panting between each word before his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fainted on my shoulder. I grunted as I trudged forwards, back into the Shack, carrying Stan's weight on me.

This was not fun. Not fun at all.

I managed to maneuver my way past the sleeping mystical creatures and townsfolk and dragged Stan's unconscious body to his bedroom. With one hand I grunted again and reached out for the doorknob. I turned it and pushed the door open with the side of my body that Stan wasn't passed out on.

I was breathing heavily from exhaustion as I yanked Stan along with me to his bed. I finally reached his little bed and tossed him onto it, and I collapsed onto the ground on my knees in exhaustion. I was panting heavily as beads of sweat trickled down my face, which surprised me. Doing things like that, never had tired me out so much before.

"Gosh, lay off of the nachos, Stan."

I grumbled as I stretched my back and arms, standing back up to my feet. I let out a huff of tiredness before making my way to the bathroom for first aid supplies. I guess doing apocalypse training every year instead of Christmas is finally paying off. Nice. Thanks Dad.

I grab some bandaid wraps and return to Stan's room. Stan's snoring loudly with drool running down the side of his chin making me tempted to take a picture of it for future blackmail, but I decide I have more important matters at hand. I kneel beside Stan and take his injured side that has a deep-ish cut and wrap the bandaid wrap around his stomach. The blood stained through the bandaid slightly, leaving an evident mark of where the cut was.

Sighing, I made sure that Stan wasn't injured anywhere else before heading downstairs to the lab where I knew I'd find Ford. Just as I had expected, Ford was sleeping with his head on his desk with his arms crossed for pillows with his mouth wide open. Unlike Stan though, Ford wasn't drooling. Papers were scattered aimlessly on the floor, most grumbled up as if representing useless ideas.

I make my way over to Ford and muster up courage to shake him awake.

I didn't know what kind of sleeper Ford was, but I prepared myself for the worst. Or at least I tried to. Ford's eyes shot open and his head jerked up, he abruptly stood up from his chair and spun around to punch me in the head. I yelped, ducking in time, only to feel the wind of his fist flying past my head,

"Wendy? Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. You startled me. Are you alright? What's wrong?" Ford blurts when realization dawns on him. He helps me up and I brush off the dirt from the basement floor from my pants. "Ford, it's Stan." I say quickly. Worry flashes across Ford's mind and I know in that second that even if Ford's too stubborn and angry to admit it, he cares about his twin brother.

"What happened Wendy? Where is he?" Ford remarks frantically. "In his bedroom." I begin and Ford rushes past me to the stairs that led back to the elevator.

I run after him and continue talking, "I had woken up to get a drink of water. The storm outside is what awoke me. I heard pounding on the door and it didn't seem to wake anyone else up. I didn't know what it was but I had to investigate. I knew it couldn't be Bill or one of his minions because the unicorn hair keeps them out. So I cautiously opened the door and there Stan was, blood dripping down his side and he was loosing consciousness. I helped him inside but he passed out on my shoulder so I then dragged him to his room and tended to his wound before coming to get you."

I finish up as the elevator reaches the top floor.

We exit it and walk out of the Vending Machine, Ford taking the lead to Stan's room. We play a quick game of hopscotch over the sleeping bags and scattered blankets, loud snoring evident from all corners of the Shack.

We reach Stan's room and Ford barges inside, not bothering to knock. He lets out a sigh of relief when he sees Stan sleeping peacefully in his bed, on his back with his hand over his wounded side. Ford shakes his head. "You're and idiot Stanley, you know that?" He sighs before turning around to face me and says, "Thank you Wendy. For taking care of him."

I shrug and reply with, "He's my boss. If I didn't, he'd probably fire me." I try to lighten the mood and Ford cracks a small smile. Ford turns his gaze back to Stan, relief evident on his face making me smile a little. "You really do care about your brother, don't you? You may not want to admit it, just because you two are angry with each other, but you do care." I note and much to my shock, Ford doesn't object or argue my statement.

Instead, his shoulders slump in defeat and he nods. "You're right Wendy. Stan may have ruined my life's dream but maybe it all just happens for a reason. Despite the fact that we're in a real-life apocalypse right now, I wouldn't have met the kids if Stan hadn't crushed my dreams. So maybe I owe everything I've accomplished since then to him." Ford's eyes widen, realizing what he says and abruptly adds, "Don't tell him I said that though. He'll get a big head from it."

I laugh and nod.

"No problem, Mr. Pines. My lips are sealed." I assure him. Ford smiles. "You're a good kid, Wendy. Stay that way. Now we'll find out what happened to him when he wakes up in the morning. Now you best be getting back to sleep and I better get back to work. I can't believe I fell asleep on the job!" Ford exclaims, ashamed of himself.

"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself Ford. You can't solve every problem on your own. Everyone needs help. And everyone needs rest. Take a break Mr. Pines. If you stay up later and overwork your brain then we'll get no where. Go to sleep, Mr. Pines, and that's an order." I command. Ford smiled weakly at me and nods. "I suppose you may be right, Wendy. And please, just call me Ford." He allows,

I didn't want to be disrespectful for anything earlier so I had resulted to calling him, Mr. Pines. But now I had permission to use his first name. Cool. That'll make things easier.

"Okay then, Ford." I smile. "Sleep well Wendy." Ford says to me. "And you as well." I agree. We then part ways and I return up to the attack, where I crash into my sleeping bag and let sleep claim me.