"You were lucky" Wirt says quietly. Dipper nods, but doesn't take his eyes off Mabel on the bed. She's still heavily sedated, and is snoring lightly in her sleep. Her hands are bundles of bandages up to the elbows, resting on top of the white sheets. Turns out when a golem wants you to stop moving, human bones are simply not up to the task, protective tattoos or not. "It could've been her neck"
"We're lucky you were able to fix them at all" Dipper says. The knowledge of the deal feels weird. He knows what he lost, and how important it is. It had to be, for Mabel's hands. Her ability to create is not something cheap. He doesn't remember his first kiss now, and all those years learning to play the tuba were wasted, only they weren't because Mabel will heal, because the doctors can't explain how her nerves and tendons survived the damage, how the bones that looked crushed to dust in the X-Ray were cracked -but intact- when they went into surgery.
"One day I won't be" Wirt says, letting go of Dipper's hand. It hurts to bring this up when he's so on edge, but he needs to understand. "The price will be too high"
"I'll pay it. She'd pay it"
"I know you would Dipper, your entire nutcase of a family would, me included if I could, that's not the point!" Wirt snaps as quietly as he can in the hospital waiting room. "You can't-"
"We're not going to stop Wirt" Dipper cuts him. "Or at least I won't. Mabel is free to do what she wants, and maybe after this she'll want to do something different, I don't know. But I can't."
Wirt rubs the bridge of his nose. He doesn't get headaches anymore -at least not the earthly kind- but the muscle memory remains.
"Dipper. It's not worth it" He sighs. "The supernatural were taking care of themselves before, and while your help is appreciated and makes things much smoother, you getting killed trying to solve a conflict will not-"
"Wirt please" If anything, it's Dipper's tone what makes him look up. He sounds unbearably young, depairingly fragile. Undeniably human. His eyes are red rimmed and focused on Mabel, and his knuckles are almost as white as the sheets he's clinging to. "I need to do this"
And Wirt knows, he really does. He -or at least a part of him- was made to look into humanity's core, and find whatever weakness he can to drag them into his domain. It's his nature, comes to him as easily as breathing, and he's awlays been all too aware of the cracks in Dipper's mask. If Wirt was the kind of demon he's meant to be it would be almost laughably easy to break him.
Never enough, compared to his bombshell of a sister. Not good enough, at what should be his legacy. No one will listen, even when he's right, because he's too weak, to unimportant to be noticed. Every friend he's ever had has come to him by association, with his sister, with his grand uncles, never for himself. Always overlooked, always forgotten, always letting everyone down.
It's a tragedy, that he can't see himself the way everyone else does. This brave man that saved reality because he just refused to give up, that sows peace wherever he goes, that looks at the things people run away from with wonder instead of fear.
Wirt hopes that someday this will change, preferably before something happens that can't be fixed, but today Dipper needs to do this, to feel enough.
He sighs again, and sits next to Dipper.
"I love you, you know?" he whispers into his ear "And I'd love you no matter what you decided to do. You're so much more than you think Dipper"
Dipper doesn't respond. He never does, when they breach this subject. Instead, he leans against Wirt, and eventually drifts off to sleep in the quiet of Mabel's hospital room.