Chapter Text
Dipper had his arm around Wendy's waist, with hers around his shoulder as he led her stumbling into the bathroom. Wendy had her hand on her mouth but was surprisingly calm-looking for someone about to puke.
Manly Dan has gone away for the weekend with the rest of Wendy's brothers and agreed to let Wendy have the house to herself. This is usually the cue for a Wild Teen Party at her home, but Wendy's smart enough not to do that and get in trouble - she just gets wasted at someone else's instead.
As for how he ended up at Wendy's side, well, it's a long story, involving the typical Gravity Falls nonsense combined with his Grunkles' usual nonsense, which ended with Mabel taking a night off sleeping over at her friend's house and Stan dropping him off to crash at Wendy's for the night. You'd think he'd check to see if the girl who was supposed to be babysitting was piss-ass drunk, but, bless his heart, he had some feds to shake off. When he arrived, Wendy's friends had just dropped her off for the evening.
"Dipperrrrr!" Wendy exclaimed, in an excited tone he instantly knew was off. "How y'doin' man? Ey, ey, what fuckin...cryptid...ghost...thing we huntin' tonight, man?" She slurred, and quickly swayed over, taking him into her arms tightly.
Dipper was overwhelmed by two things he was now aware of: 1. Wendy was SUPER drunk, reeking of the sharp, cleaning agent odor of alcohol. 2. She was squeezing him right into her boobs.
"Wendy, a-are you drunk?" He asked, despite knowing she was.
"Tiiiny bit, dude," she said and belched. "It's aaawesome, friends took me to this great abandoned m-military place, and I finally did...the Manly Dan Challenge!" She cheered, raising her fists in the air.
So, she slurrily explained to him. If you can believe it, getting this drunk was more than standard teen peer pressure...or at least not just that. It was, again if you can believe it, family heritage. Manly Dan set the Gravity Falls drinking record, out-drinking 3 other lumberjacks in a contest - when he was only about Wendy's age. Now, Wendy normally didn't give a shit about the many records her dad had, but she was not going to be outdone by her own father.
"Wow, so...did you...do it?" Dipper asked. "Beat his record?"
"Man, I don't even know!" She laughed. "But you should see the other guys! They were honking everywhere before the halfway point!"
Dipper was now really concerned. "Jeez, Wendy, are you okay?! Maybe you should lie down..."
"Dude, I'm great! Now as I was -" Wendy's face suddenly fell.
"Wendy?"
"It's okay, it's fine I -" Wendy's cheeks puffed as she gagged.
"Wendy!"
"R-relax dude, I'm not gonna hurl," She said and gulped. "But...I'm just gonna go to the bathroom...j-just in case,"
She turned, then stumbled, grabbing onto the couch for support. "I...may need some help here, dude,"
And so, here he was. Dipper had a slight urge to cover his face with a hanky or something, not because of the incoming gunge from Wendy's mouth, the stench of booze on her made him honestly long for the scent of bile more. In fact, he was much more comfortable with being on toilet duty for his crush than he thought.
This is weird because this would typically be the nadir of any suitor's day. Like, being reduced to holding your crush's hair usually be a punchline in many a rom-com he laughed at with Wendy. It should be embarrassing for both of them Yet, for some reason, like always around Wendy, his heart is pounding, his palms are sweating, and...there's no place he'd rather...Jeez, when he thought he "loved everything about her", he didn't mean this, and yet...
Dipper's trail of thought was interrupted when Wendy suddenly bent forward, gagging. He braced her, eyes wide with anticipation, only for her to straighten up."'M fine," She mutters, taking a deep breath. "'S cool,"
God, Wendy was so freakin' cool, maybe that's why he doesn't mind seeing her vomit. Even when she was this wasted, from afar you couldn't tell, her face remaining calm and collected, like she could just belch all the alcohol out in one heroic guff and go back to chopping down trees unabated.
Anyway, they made it to the downstairs bathroom. It was as garishly decorated in macho lumberjack decor as the rest of the house, and the bathtub was grimy from being shared with the rest of her family, it was a relief to see that the toilet was at least clean.
Wendy dropped to her knees next to the toilet bowl and groaned. "M-Maybe..." She gulped. "Maybe...I'm totally gonna puke, dude,"
This would usually be the cue for him to bolt and leave her to drain the foulness from her stomach, but...for some reason, he had to ask:
"Wendy...D-do you need any help?" He said and braced himself for disappointment.
But after a pause, Wendy answered. "...Yeah...yes. I feel like shit," Dipper's heart skipped a beat.
"Dip...Please...please hold me." He could hardly believe his ears, but as he slowly knelt beside her, he knew she meant it
So Dipper and Wendy held each other close, arms on each other's shoulders. Dipper held her hair in one hand and the other on Wendy's stomach, feeling the churning storm inside. His heart was pounding harder than when he ran into any monster.
"Dipper..." Wendy mumbled as she salivated in the toilet. "I-"
Then, Dipper felt Wendy's stomach convulse as she unleashed a torrent of pinkish cream-colored stomach contents gushing into the toilet bowl, with a long, gurgling retch. Dipper was speechless.
"Ugh..." Wendy moaned. "Mothe-" Her swear was interrupted as she felt the strand of pasta hanging from her tongue on her sick-glossed lips. Fire two. This time, she burped up a thinner, more liquid batch. Dipper patted her back as she coughed and spat.
He surveyed the damage. Her sick, which splattered on the sides of the toilet bowl and nearly splashed over the rim, was foamy, probably from the beer, but he could still see chunks of her dinner. Carrots, pasta, some kind of meat, maybe some bread and tomatoes. She had a hearty meal beforehand, which he heard was supposed to actually stop you from getting wasted like this, so either that doesn't work or Wendy drank so much it was possible she may have just been too full.
"Oh..." Wendy moaned. "Oh, God..."
"I-It's OK Wendy..." Dipper said softly, finally finding his voice. "It's OK."
Wendy heaved again, this time pretty much exploding all over the toilet, and as tightly as Dipper held her he couldn't stop her convulsing body from leading her spray to briefly splatter over the side and on the ground.
"Fuck..." She croaked. "Fuck, fuck, fu-" Her swearing was interrupted as she retched again with a much thinner stream of sick, coughing as she ended another round.
"Shhh, shh, get it all out," Dipper whispered, stroking her back, and putting his head on her shoulder. "I'll clean it up later."
"'M sorry Dipper...I'm so, so, sorry."
He saw her start to tear up. He had to fight off the irresistible urge to kiss her cheek, stopping himself not because of the bile dripping from her lips and nose, but because he sadly remembered she had already told him how she felt that fateful summer two years ago, not to mention the incident with Robbie's Hypno-CD that it clear she did not appreciate him using a shitty situation for her into some kind of romantic moment. He never wanted her to be that mad at him again, but...God, he almost wanted to tear up himself.
Like a little kitty, he settled for nuzzling his head under her chin. "Don't...Don't worry. Just focus on getting better, OK?"
Wendy continued to spew and started to sob all the while. Dipper saw that her stomach contents were now a lot less chunky, which he guessed may be a sign that her body had finished expelling her food and was focused on draining the alcohol, which he supposed was progress.
"Oh, God," She coughed, tears now flowing freely. "So gross...I'm...so gross..."
"No, no, no you're not,"
"A-Am I dying...?"
"No, no...you're...I mean your Wendy, you're way too strong to go out from something this small."
Wendy looked up at him. "Dipper..."
"Yes?"
"I...I love you, man. I love you...so much."
Dipper felt his face growing hot and his heart leaped like never before. As they both stared into each other's eyes, Dipper desperately wanted to kiss her. He wanted to grab that teary, snotty, beautiful face of hers and kiss her smelly, dripping, beautiful mouth with all the passion he had and savor her juices as they held each other close...
But, as Wendy turned to belch up a thin stream of bile, he snapped back to reality. He knew...Wendy would not like that. At all. And she didn't love him that way, at all.
And so, between his sinking heart that almost made him tear up along with her, the decreasing severity of Wendy's heaves, and the realization that between her barfing, crying, and her...hot...sticky...sweating...body, she really needed some fucking water, Dipper decided he's seen enough.
"So, uh, Wendy...I'm gonna get you some water...you good from here?"
"Y-Yeah..." She said, and burped. "Think I'm...a-almost done...'S fine."
"Cool,"
Dipper quickly headed to the darkened kitchen, forgetting the light switch, to find the largest glass he could fill with water, which ironically turned out to be a beer glass. He came back to hear the toilet flushing. Wendy was shakily grabbing a length of toilet paper and blowing her nose. "Oh man," she coughed. My nose...everything burns."
Dipper quickly helped her sit up against the bathtub next to the toilet bowl and shoved the glass in her face to stress its importance. She got the message and gulped down the water so fast that it streamed down the sides of her mouth. When she finished, Dipper refilled the glass, and she drank again, this time a little too fast, causing a coughing fit. Then, she drank more slowly.
"So, uh...how are you feeling?" Wendy lolled her head to give him a bloodshot glare.
"Sorry, um...are you...feeling better than before?"
"Maybe, uh...I think so..." She said massaging her temple. "Fuck...feeling hangover...already..."
"Anything I can get you?"
"Pills...in the mirror. Ibu...Ibupr...the ones in the blue bottle."
He obliged, giving her the medicine, which she took with water.
"Thank you...Thanks so much...Y-You're the best, Dipper,"
They sat in silence as she caught her breath.
"Stupid...this was stupid...I'm so stupid..." She mumbled, burying her face in her hands "Why'd I agree to...such a loser..."
"No, Wendy! You're not! You're cool..."
"I don't want to be cool!" She wailed.
Dipper was taken aback. She started crying again.
"I just want to be fucking normal! I don't want to be cool, or hot, or a hero, or whatever!"
Dipper felt his stomach clench. He'd stupidly said the wrong thing and stupidly screwed up again, somehow, just like when he stupidly asked her to go bowling after she just broke up with Robbie. He felt tears come to his own eyes.
"I...I'm sorry Wendy...I'll leave you alone now..."
He sat up to leave before she saw him cry, but Wendy suddenly pulled him into a hug.
"No, No...don't..." She sniffed. "You're fine. You're cool I'm just...I dunno...s-sick of all the bullshit. But I n-need you here."
His tears ran down his cheeks as relief washed over him. "Okay"
They sat there for a while, holding each other close and taking deep breaths to stop their crying.
"Ugh...God, it still stinks in here..." Wendy chuckled, but then buried her face in her hand. "Oh, fuck...the f-fucking floor..."
They turned their attention to the "misfire" Wendy made earlier, both blushing, albeit for different reasons.
"Um...Don't worry about it," Dipper said. "Like I said before, I got it."
"S-sorry dude...You're...so good to me tonight..."
"Yeah, you just get some sleep. Maybe...brush your teeth so your mouth won't feel gross in the morning,"
Wendy snorted, then winced at the burning in her nose. "God. W-what are you, m-my babysitter?"
"Oh, no, I'm sorry I just thought - "
Dipper's train of thought was lost as Wendy bent down and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. Then another. And one more.
"So, so good to me...Oh, shit, I-I just vommed, sorr-"
Dipper wrapped his arms around her shoulders and gave her cheek a big kiss of his own. "Thank you."
Again, they held each other in an embrace. Afterward, Wendy got up she was too tired to brush, so she just rinsed with mouthwash instead. She stumbled out of the toilet and tried to go up the stairs, but she decided it was easier to just collapse on the couch instead.
She mumbled, "Yeah...jus' gonna..." and was out like a light.
Dipper took a deep breath and sighed, his heart still pounding, trying to take in all that happened that evening, but decided that first, he had to clean up after Wendy as he promised.
He placed a fresh glass of water and placed it on the coffee table next to Wendy, gathered some cleaning supplies, and went to work.
However, before he could start, he looked at the small puddle of puke by the toilet and just...stared.
He gazed at the transparent pink puddle she made, peppered with multicolored chunks of food. He thought about how she let him hold her, actually hold her strong, beautiful, sweaty body, his hand on her stomach as he felt it churn and convulse. He thought about her beautiful lips, glossy from bile that dripped down her chin. He thought about wet burps that led to beautiful gurgling sounds of her barfing up wave after wave into the toilet. He thought about how she let him take care of her. For the first time, he and Wendy shared a moment together, just the two of them.
Dipper locked the door behind him, stood before the messy toilet, and dropped his pants. He had to take care of something.
Afterward, now mostly spent, Dipper unlocked the door and mustered whatever energy he had left to clean up the bathroom as best he could, rested his head on a towel for a quick break before finding a couch or something, but ended up falling asleep.