Primal Instinct

“Where have you been—what the hell happened to your leg?!”

Of course Dipper wasn’t just going to silently breeze past his worried sister and maybe get a moment of peace. No that was too easy, so instead he was pelted with dozens of questions as soon as he maneuvered into the house on his good leg. Attempting to ignore the dull pain that still lingered despite it’s slow healing.

“Mabel listen—”

“Don’t Mabel me!” She interrupted with a sneer, already dashing over to support him.

She began to ramble continuously in his ear, her mate only leaning against the kitchen door frame. She watched the scene unfold with curiosity—eyeing Dipper’s busted ankle; Mabel guided him over to the table in the center of their small kitchen. Propping his foot up on the table, rushing over to the fridge to grab a bag of frozen peas. The bag was gently rested on his injured ankle.

She probably relished in the pained hiss he released at the action, the monster.

The pestering never ceased and Dipper was tempted to just slam his ankle on the floor, the hospital was usually quiet. His sister was now seated in front of him, her mouth running at impressive speed—rushing out various words like: worried, disappeared, and dumbass.

“Mabel just stop!” Dipped finally shouted, swiping at his weary eyes.

Pacifica jumped into protection mode at this—straightening her back and squaring her shoulders, she hovered over Mabel’s form from behind. She bared her teeth and growled, all in an obvious display of protectiveness over her mate. An Alpha didn’t care who you were—make their mate unhappy, face their wrath.

Mabel rested a placid hand on her mate’s hand—sending the other a calming smile, “Calm down Paz.”

The blonde Alpha seemed to snap back at this and a look of guilt crossed her features in a flash. She leaned back quickly, staring at Dipper with apologetic eyes.

“Dipper, I’m so sorry”—she pauses looking down in shame—“I should have controlled myself better.”

“Its fine, I understand.” Dipper reassured with a small voice, his shoulder’s relaxing.

The tension in the air also seemed to dissipate and Dipper could finally breath. He needed some space, the amount of stressful Alpha confrontations was only starting to grow and he could really use a nap. Mabel eyed the sprained ankle before her, but her mind seemed to be far away—mocha eyes absently took in the sleepy omega in front of her.

“Is that Alpha I smell on you?”

“Well yeah, but don't you think it’s kinda rude to talk about her like she’s not here?”

“Not Paz!”

Sweat beaded at his forehead—he was doomed. How the hell was he gonna wriggle out of this one? Especially with the suspicious gaze that was now narrowed on him, he needed to play this right before it turned into a full blown interrogation.

“It’s not all that interesting. I tripped in the woods, stumbled onto an Alpha on the way out and asked for some help—end of story.”

Mabel didn’t seem convinced in the slightest, but she let it slide. Mostly because her brother was swaying just slightly and looked like he was going to pass out any second. Part of her could see how nervous he was to talk about it. Maybe Pacifica was right—maybe she did need to loosen her reigns a bit.

So with much reluctance, she pulled back. Mabel pushed out her chair and walked over to her brother’s side. Grabbing his arm and swinging it securely around her shoulder before helping him up. Dipper could on stare in shock as the other supported his weight without a word. Even though her eye’s hungered for answers, her mouth remained closed—pressed together in a thin line.

It was a first, but Dipper couldn’t of been more grateful.

Dipper could have cried when they reached his room and he swore his bed practicality called for him. Mabel carefully helped him onto the mattress, but didn’t leave until his foot was propped up on a stack of pillow’s—from her own bed. She promised to be back with some medicine and fresh bandage’s after he got some rest.

Only she paused at the doorway, turning to give Dipper a teary eyed smile, “I’m just so glad your back.”

Dipper only watched in stunned silence as she shut the door behind her soundlessly. The expression that adorned her face had tore at his chest in the worse possible way; Had he really caused her to worry that badly, guilt settled heavily in his stomach. He would have to make it up to her in someway.

His thoughts were so muddled since he got home, he had almost completely forgotten about Bill—almost.

A grumble sounded in otherwise silent room. How could he have forgotten about that? No he was going to sleep and put those pestering thoughts away. He deserved this much needed rest and could only hope his ankle was feeling much better when he wakes up.

He peered down at the nasty bruise that curled around his ankle, with half lidded eyes. His gaze flickered over to the dirty fabric that was still tied securely around his calf and it only guided his thoughts back towards the dreaded Alpha named Bill.

Dipper dreamed of gold.

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“You’ll come back before the sun sets?”

“Yes”

“Do you have your phone?”

“Yes mom”

—Swat

Dipper let out a high pitched yelp, hand shooting up to message his shoulder. He gave an over—exaggerated pout as his sister finished packing a small snack for him and all but shoving it into his arms. Her brows knotted together and she opened her mouth to speak, but quickly shut it instead.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt again bro-bro,” She giggled while knocking his shoulder with her fist playfully, but Dipper could see the poorly concealed worry in her eyes.

He smiled, placing a gentle hand against her arm.

“I promise, I’ll be fine.”

Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth and she nodded quickly. She waved a dismissive hand and turned to clean up the stray ingredients covering the kitchen counter. Hands busying themselves as she spoke, “I know you will—now go have fun!”

Dipper sent his sister a wave before dashing into the living room. He spotted his pack next to the couch and scurried over to grab it. His grunkle was kicked back in his chair, with a pitt cola in his hand and his eyes trained on the newest episode of Duck-dective. He momentarily looked at Dipper before resuming his binge watching.

“Mabel finally let you go?”

Dipper rolled his eyes with a fond smile, “you know how she is.”

He nodded in agreement, “Oh—I do.”

The small omega slung his bag over his shoulder in one motion. He started for the door, but his Grunkle’s voice stopped him.

“Hey kid, you be careful out there.”

“I will!” Dipper called over his shoulder, pushing the door open and walking down the porch steps. Walking, something Dipper was eternally grateful for being able to actually do when he woke up this morning.

The swelling had gone down tremendously and the cuts on his leg looked much better. Mabel couldn’t of been more pleased, but still changed his ‘bandage’ with an actual bandage. She also slapped a bunch of glittery stickers on-top, much to Dipper’s embarrassment.

Bill probably wouldn't let him live it down.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, Bill was currently leaning up against a tree. Dipper narrowed his eye’s at the object the man was toying with in his hands. Their finger’s kept rubbing at something on it and it only furthered his confusion.

“What’s that?”

Bill looked up in slight surprise, a smirk slowly crawled onto his lips. He reached out his arm and popped the item on Dipper’s head. Dipper jumped at the action, his hands shooting up to touch whatever he just placed on his head. His eye’s widened at the familiar texture and he adjusted the cap in shock.

He beamed up at the other with wide eyes, “My hat!”

“Found it near the creek yesterday, Pine tree huh?”—He paused, eyeing the little pine tree embroidery with a small grin—”fitting.”

Dipper frowned at this, so he did go back yesterday? The brunette’s stomach curled at the thought of the deer corpse from yesterday, he immediately blocked that thought. Ignoring lump in his throat that continued to crawl upwards, he shrugged his bag off and dug into it.

Bill blinked at the notebook the boy pulled out of his bag. Dipper gestured towards it with a giant grin, his eyes alight with glee.

“This will be our guide for the forest, its a bit beat up—”

“Beat up?! Kid that things destroyed!” Bill interrupted in a fit of laughter.

The other pouted, crossing his arms over his chest with a glare. He only continued to glare at the Alpha even as the other reached into his own bad—much smaller than his own. Bill pulled out a hand—full of string, he held out a hand towards Dipper, who hesitantly handed it over and watched as the other did his magic.

Tan fingers worked carefully, interweaving the string between each prong and hole that lined the side of his book. Dipper watched in fascination as it came together with one final tug, the once uneven covers were aligned perfectly. Bill handed the boy his book back with a shrug.

“The string was for traps, but you seem pretty proud of that thing.”

Dipper blushed at this, running his fingers down the spine of his book.

“Thank you,” Dipper hated how small his voice sounded.

Bill only stood behind Dipper, curling a single hand around the other’s shoulder. He leaned down close to take a glance at the page’s of the adventures book. Dipper just tried not to internally combust at the hand resting on his suddenly very stiff shoulder—what was wrong with him?

Dipper wasn’t sure who he was talking about either.

“Where are we off too?” The Alpha’s smooth tone slid right into Dipper’s ear.

Dipper swallowed thickly and fumbled with the pages. Desperately trying to focus on his writing instead of that damned hand. He stopped when he caught sight of a familiar page—dog eared. Bill eyed the page for a few moments, reading over the sparse information Dipper had written there.

“Pixies?”

“Pixies.”