"...Everyone in! Go, go, go!"

The ragged band of survivors dashed into the wreck of the former town library. There was no one among them who wasn't currently half mad with terror, some to the point that they sobbed hysterically between ragged breaths. The second the last one had stumbled through the splintered doors, several of the terror-stricken reached for tumbled shelves and began assembling a makeshift barricade. They moved with a strength and speed borne out of frenzied desperation, for they could hear the chorus of those hideous moans outside drawing ever nearer.

They had half finished blocking the main entrance when suddenly a scrawny boy hurled himself upon their improvised defenses. "Wait! Wait!"

"What are you doing?" Someone picked him up and pushed him aside. "Get out of the way!"

No sooner had he been moved when he forced himself back into the thick of things. To everyone's shared horror, he had frantically started making a hole from the inside of their makeshift refuge. He wasn't even a full-fledged teen, yet he tore away at the scraps of wood with the strength of three men. Many of the band stood stock still with shock, unable to belief their shocked eyes. Had he snapped? Couldn't he hear the advancing hordes of the undead?

A young woman grabbed him by the shoulders and started hauling him away. Immediately he started fighting back tooth and nail, as if he had gone completely mad.

"He's infected!" Someone cried out, and screams of horror went up all around.

"No!" The boy gasped. "Please, you don't understand! My sister's still out there! She's still out there!"

On cue there was a sudden pounding on the barricade. Shrill cries could now be heard just outside.

"Let me in! Please! Let me in!"

"I'm coming!" The boy tried to break away, but several more sets of hands held him firmly in place. He struggled and thrashed, but it was no use. No one wanted to risk the thin barrier between them and the evil outside. As a result, he was forced to helplessly listen to the increasingly desperate yells of his sole surviving family member.

"Let me in!" Fingernails scraped desperately at the massive bookshelf forming the centerpiece of the barricade. "Let me in! Please! Let me….n-no! No!"

They had arrived.

Immediately the improvised wall started to give way under the force of the shambling army. With screams of terror, the wretched band of humanity retreated up to the second floor. Only one of their number stayed behind. Lying where he had been dropped, the boy was utterly paralyzed with horror. It was already far too late to do anything, save keep listening while his sister's frantic screams become drowned out.

"Ma….M-Ma…." His lips flapped. Her cries of agony were now mixed was the splintering of wood as the barricade give away, the audible crunch of bone, and the sickening squelch as flesh was rendered into nothing more than yet another more meal for the cursed zombie hordes. After she signaled her end with one last piteous shriek, he managed to call out her name a final time.

"Maria!"

That was enough. Dipper hastily pressed the remote, and the TV screen went instantly black.

Silence now blanketed the Mystery Shack den. The boy found himself unexpectedly rattled by the late night horror flick. He gazed out into nothingness with a thousand-yard stare while he rapidly grew lost in his own thoughts, as he was so easily prone to do. Dipper now simply couldn't shake off the cold realization that painfully washed over him like a bucket of ice water.

That could have easily been them only a few weeks ago.

A violent shudder raced down the length of his spine. No, it wasn't merely the karaoke party. How many times so far this summer had he taken things too far? How many times had he put their lives on the line? How many times had he….

In no time his gut had coiled so tightly that it hurt. Worry surged through his system, and soon he was utterly possessed with pure nervous energy. Dipper raced upstairs to the top floor of the Shack, not even pausing to stop when he tripped and banged his knee on the stairs.

Of course, she was just fine. His twin lay sprawled in her bed, one arm draped tightly around Waddles, the other loosely grasping some half-done knitting, safe and sound and otherwise happy as could be.

Dipper's fretfulness abated. The guilt however only continued to gnaw fiercely away. His sister was really something special. Always able to keep her spirits so high, even after half the things he put them through. How she wasn't traumatized at all by now was hopelessly beyond him.

Without even realizing it, the words rolled softly off his lips. He didn't even know what he was apologizing for exactly. But the urge was there, and unstoppable. "Sorry, Mabel."

As it turns out, she wasn't in half as deep a sleep as he had assumed. One of her eyes cracked open, giving him a start.

"D-Dipper?" She mumbled with a yawn. "Wha…"

"Uh….." He idled awkwardly, mind racing for an excuse. In the end he could only a hoarse mess of a forced laugh. "Nothing….it's nothing…."

He ungracefully slunk away. So much for feeling any better. Now he had to contend with a fresh load of embarrassment with only himself to thank.

Yet another plan not going as he had expected. Big fat surprise there.

As he brushed his teeth, he could already tell that it was going to be one of those nights where he'd spend at least a good hour or two getting caught up in his own head. It was just the way things had to be with him, unfortunately. He hated how easily he could get so absurdly wound up sometimes.

Soon he was returning to their shared bedroom, while he plodded over to his bed he started to mumble, "G'night M-"

He stopped and actually rethought the instinctive words. She had been bothered enough as it was. It would probably be best if he just let her get back to sleep. However, the neurotic preteen had just barely settled himself into bed when he heard the creak of a mattress, quickly followed by scampering footsteps

"Whop!" Mabel unceremoniously plopped Waddles right into his lap. Dipper's yelp filled the room.

"Hey, what are-"

"When you need to feel better, pigs are a great start! They're always up for a cuddle." His sister informed with matter-of-fact cheer. Without further ado she started to push him. "Okay, now scootch! C'mon, let's go! Make room for Mabels!"

"Why?" He grunted under the weight of her pet.

"Because you were totally just wearing your anxious-face right now. Don't deny it." His twin replied with a knowing smile.

"Wait-" Before he could utter another word, she leaned in for one of her famously iron-tight hugs.

"I'm okay." She confidently chirped. "Whatever's going on, we're both okay."

After a pause, Mabel then added for good sisterly measure, "...Okay?"

It took him a moment, but he accepted the squeeze. As his gut finally started to uncoil itself, he even managed to return it for a full-blow awkward sibling hug, along with a sheepish reply. "...Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Now c'mon, move over!" Once the persistent girl had made enough space, she plopped one of her pillows on his bony chest, crawled in and curled up close. Beneath her head, she could actually feel her twin's anxiety-taut muscles relax, little by little. Mabel sported a sleepy but satisfied smirk.

"G'night, bro-bro." She whispered.

As they settled themselves, a weak smile gratefully crept its way across his face. "G'night, Mabel…."