Chapter Text
“Dipper. Dipper. DIPPER.”
Rosie’s voice emanating from his phone was like a bucket of cold water.
“I think maybe we should take a snack break. You’re… uh-”
“Being rude. Sorry. I know.”
“That’s not what I said!”
“No, but it’s what you should have said.”
“I can say what I want.”
“Sorry. I’m… somewhere else.”
“Where are you?”
“Um…”
“Ah,” the sound of Rosie’s extreme accommodations. She was making sure nothing made him even the slightest bit awkward. It was hard not to talk about Pacifica, not that he could bring himself to talk about it with Rosie anyway. Never the twain shall meet. She was being so careful and asking no questions despite presumably having some. He genuinely wasn’t sure how she felt about it - if she was too nice to tell him that she was angry.
“I- I… I’m in ‘stuck in a spiraling cyclone of concerning thoughts’-ville. Where are you?”
“In my kitchen trying to figure out a tactful way to tell you that you’re mumbling code under your breath.’ Uh. -Landia”
Dipper laughed, “Landia?”
“I panicked.”
He heard her laugh too. He felt the elephant on his chest shift its weight a little.
“I was mumbling code?”
“Yeah. I was gonna write it down but you kept correcting yourself so I stopped.”
“You know how to code?”
“My dad does ‘Cyber Security’.”
“Oh.”
“He says he gets to be a cop but on the computer so Mom won’t divorce him over it.”
“He’s a hacker?”
“An ethical hacker.”
“So cool. My Grunkle Ford started to teach me but Mom said I wasn’t allowed.”
“Want me to teach you?”
Dipper frowned into his phone; he wasn’t sure what to say. He took a little too long to answer.
“Um. Or that’s not- As in, if you’d rather not, I am… I understand the situation. Uh- Just to be clear. I-”
“I was thinking you’re too nice for your own good and that you’re allowed to be mad at me,” Dipper said, “Sorry that it took so long to get out. I feel bad that you’re still so nice to me.”
“That’s…”
“I think we just need to be really honest with each other,” Dipper said, “Um… I think we’re both kind of good at avoiding the uncomfortable parts. So, um- Rosie, I’d really appreciate it if you’d teach me to hack. I also understand if you don’t want to and are just being nice.”
“You don’t feel sorry for me?”
“I feel sorry for myself. You were an innocent bystander.”
“I should have… I mean- I dunno, Jules says that when someone likes me, they’ll be clear. But-“
“I can confirm that sometimes they won’t because people are dumb about feelings. But they’ll hold your hand when you offer it, I bet.”
“It seems really obvious now.”
“I think I just… really wanted you to be my friend.”
“I really want you to be mine. None of my friends see any reason to code and it’s cool that you do. Even if I’m pretty sure my dad wouldn’t approve.”
“... probably not.”
“So?”
“ ‘So?’ “
“What are you working on?”
“Oh. Um… so- I- Do you remember the seance?”
“Yep.”
“Well, we did another for my friend and her family ghost, and I was able to pick up two ghosts on the EMP and they talked a lot. So I think uh-”
“You can talk back?”
“Yeah. Sort of. It’s… okay, so there’s like a… radio frequency that they communicate through which means some people can just hear that frequency but we can’t-Normal people can’t. Only it’s not a frequency the way we know it, it’s not set, it’s-”
“Fluctuating?”
“Exactly. And all radio frequencies do, but I’m missing one. One variable. It’s unstable and I’m trying to figure out a way to stabilize it. It’s not a mechanical problem because the radio can play the recording - it’s something in my recreation. When I try to broadcast something I’m saying, it won’t broadcast on the same frequency. There’s something I’m not getting. So I’m trying to… introduce a modifier into the conversion program, try to find the missing piece. I’m hoping it’s the code that’s wrong, because if it’s not then… it’s just something magic, I guess, and that means I can’t explain it. So I’m wasting my time trying to use logic on it.”
“Dipper?”
“Am I boring you?”
“No. You’re really not. I just- I think I can help you.”
“Oh,” Dipper perked up, he pushed his DDnMD stuff a little to the side, then he leaned his chair as far to the right as he could without falling and snatched some blank paper. He found a pen that was structurally unsound but passable. “What do you think?”
“Um…” Rosie made a few other sounds, little hems and haws about how to explain this. “If I say ‘missing fundamental’ to you… do you know what that means?”
“No idea.” He wrote that down, ‘Missing Fundamental ‘.
“Okay. In that case, we’ll break down the basics. Sometimes when there’s a lot of pitches going on at once, our brain hears one that isn’t there. As in it knows something should fit so-”
“It fills in the gap…”
“Yeah. But if you break it down, then a pitch is missing. As in, the note isn’t playing but your brain hears it because it thinks it should. If you’re finding the oscillating frequencies maybe you’re missing that pitch… or you have one too many and you think it should be there but it’s not.”
“That’s not the same as a radio frequency.”
“What about hidden frequencies? You know, the one the EMP found?”
“It hid too well,” Dipper groaned, “I’ve combed through every part of Archie and Kitty’s audio. I’ve- I’ve- I…”
Oh.
Oh…
One thing too many. Or one thing too few… Huh.
It wasn’t Kitty and Archie he needed. He clearly found the frequency that allowed their replies to be audible to him. He needed whatever Pacifica had. Whatever Layla had. The pitch they added which he didn’t. Whatever audio quirk allowed them to communicate with the spiritual plane, whatever it was about them that the spirits could hear. He’d been looking at this problem backwards. Dear god, he was such an idiot.
“You’re a genius!” he told Rosie, “I think I know how to fix this. I think I- I think I have an idea. I-”
“Need to go?”
“I’m so sorry. I’ll grab you a hot chocolate the next time I see you. I owe you one.”
“Can you skip the whipped cream this time though? I don’t really like whipped cream,” Rosie said.
“Oh. Okay, we can get the whipped cream separately, I’ll put it in my coffee. Catch you next week?”
“This campaign won’t write itself!”
Dipper laughed at Rosie’s ineffectual sternness and her giggle before she even finished. “I understand, no more distractions. I swear.”
“We can meet at my house. Or yours. Just somewhere so we can design the map and figure out where the mountain ranges should be.”
“I’ve never designed a map before. Sounds cool. Okay. Maybe you can come to my place? My mom is sick of all the extra rides I need.”
Rosie giggled, “My mom doesn’t mind. No problem. We’ll set it up.”
“Thank you!”
His relief tasted like fresh, cold water. Cold and in the middle of summer.
“Hey,” Rosie cut through his gratitude, “Tell me how it goes. Let me know if I can help. I mean it. This whole thing sounds like you could use some support.”
Dipper stared at his phone, his eyes felt a little hot and his shoulders relaxed. He didn’t even realize that they were living up by his ears until now.
“I really could. I’ll let you know.”
“I’ll let you go. Text me.”
“I will!”
Dipper’s phone rang. He bolted upright from the desk, he had three tiny little screwdrivers imprinted into his cheek. He’d fallen asleep at his desk. Again. The current infomercial told him that just this one time only he could get a doohickey for a hundred dollars down from three hundred. A massive deal! Don’t miss this opportunity!
He rubbed his eyes, yawned, and answered the phone.
“Dipper? Are you awake?”
Shit.
Pacifica.
“Yeah!” Dipper tried to drag himself back to the world of the living, “I’m awake. I’m-”
She looked back at him from her phone.
“What were you doing?”
“You did not call me to ask me what I’m doing, Pacifica. It’s late.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“It’s two in the morning.”
“I didn’t really- I… didn’t realize-”
“Hey. It’s fine, I’m up. What’s going on?”
“Chemistry,” Pacifica’s voice was all tight, “I just can’t- I cannot figure out what I’m doing wrong but my answer is never the right answer and I’m- Dipper, I have a test and I was so focused on my essay and now I’m- I- I thought I had this but I do not have this and I can’t go lower than a B.” A desperate inhale. Sometimes Pacifica forgot she needed to breathe. “I need your help. I really, really, need your help. I’m totally screwed.”
“You’re not screwed, it’s okay. Do you have all your stuff in front of you?”
“Some of it may be in pieces on the floor.”
“Important pieces?”
“You’ll have to tell me. I’m like, totally lost here, Dipper.”
“It’s flipping the formulas isn’t it?”
“It’s flipping the formulas. And remembering them and - all of it. I can’t do it,”
“You can. You’re freaking out over numbers; numbers can’t hurt you. I got you.”
He quickly discovered the problem. Pacifica had just finished her massive essay and she was running on about three hours of sleep… times three. She was having trouble retaining things, even things that she’d gotten absolutely right fifteen minutes before.
“Can you grab some food?” Dipper asked, “I can hear your stomach from here.”
“You absolutely cannot.”
“I can. Are your parents home?”
“No. Not right now.”
“Then what’s going on?”
“I just forgot. It’s been a stressful few weeks. It hasn’t been a priority.”
“What a perfectly normal thing to say. No need to follow up on that.”
“Agreed.”
“Get some food now. Like, just so your brain has something to work with?”
“I’m feeling insulted in about four different ways.”
“Do you want a few more?”
“I don’t have a whole hour for you to think up something witty. I’ll be right back.”
“Bed looks amazing from here. And you’re on my last nerve.”
“I can see your room. It’s barely not a crime scene,” Her affronted snap was accompanied by a resentful turning of her back and flouncing off. He watched her pony tail swing side to side. You only had to be careful if it whipped. That meant Pacifica was on the hunt. A swing meant that she was having fun.
“Don’t be petty and pretend to be sleeping when I come back.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Except for the first few times he’d done it to prove a point. He wouldn’t dream of doing it right now. He was sort of looking forward to book club.
Frankenstein waited for him on his bedside table. He was only a third in. It has been a busy week and he was only getting a chapter or two in a night. It didn’t have any ‘lines’ but it was fun to read. Elsie told him that it started as a ghost story told on a stormy night. The author was tragic and brilliant and tragically brilliant.
Pacifica came back with a plate of odds and ends. Her whole body relaxed as she ate something for possibly the first time that day.
He narrowed his eyes to see the book she had on her table. ‘Wandering Heights’ or ‘Wonderful Heights’ or ‘Werther’s Heights’ or something.
“Why’re your windows closed?” he asked her. She usually left them open. She liked the stars, she liked the moon. She hated feeling like she was in a cell.
“Feels like there’s someone watching,” she said, and even she didn’t seem convinced of her own ‘okayness’ when she said it out loud. Her eyes narrowed, “Don’t be weird about this, Dipper.”
“Me? Weird? Never.”
“Good. Glad we established that.”
“Continuing with the not being weird thing, quick question: did you talk to Kitty about the nosebleed?”
“Which one?” Pacifica sighed. She sighed again and spun in her chair to avoid his gaze, “Which part?”
“You know it’s fucked, Paz. How many? What did she say?”
“I’m not entirely sure this is swearing-worthy.”
“Why haven’t you contacted Kitty?
“... I can’t find her.”
“What?”
“I can’t even pull Archie. I can’t- I’m-”
“Really tired?”
She glared, “Yes.”
“That’s not inspiring much confidence over here.”
“I didn’t realize it was my job to give you confidence.”
“You need help.”
“I need to understand what I’m dealing with. I didn’t think this was ‘threaten your friends’ territory. I thought this was ‘petty revenge’ territory!”
“So when are you going to start doing something about it?”
“I am trying.”
“Maybe your essay wasn’t that important. Maybe taking care of right-now you is more important. What the hell?”
“I didn’t ask you. I will let you know when I want your opinion on it. Don’t hold your breath.”
“Paz.”
His very real anger bubbled up. The anger he wasn’t supposed to have about how much harder she was making this than it had to be. Not them. Not that. This. The vampire thing, the people wanting to hurt her thing. It was like if she ignored it, it would simply go away. How much longer was she going to avoid the fact it was getting worse? They were definitely watching. How long before he pissed her off and forced her into doing something about it?
“Sorry.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I didn’t mean it, I’m not trying to be horrible, I’m-”
“You know we could do this tomorrow?”
“I’d really prefer to make Saturday nights a time we don’t fight.”
“Likewise. Okay, then how about the afternoon before I go to dinner with my dad?”
“I can’t, the Jackalope babies are freaking out about something and Basil and I are going to go check it out.”
Are. You. Kidding. Me.
“You can’t. Every single time you go into those woods, something vampire-y tries to find you. They must have a way of knowing that you’re there.”
“It’s not supposed to rain!”
“Take Wendy too.”
“She can’t, she has a volleyball tournament."
“Why is she even still on the team?! It’s a waste of time-”
“It’s important to Layla.”
“Then you guys should wait.”
“I’ll see if it’s as urgent as he said.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“You don’t get to decide this one. Sorry.”
“I think this is a horrible idea. I want that on the record.”
“And it’s been noted. Look, I have your necklace, I have my knuckledusters, and I’m out of my cast-”
“In a brace!”
“My physio says I have weirdly strong bones!”
“Pacifica!”
“Basil’s going with or without me, I can’t let him go alone.”
Why not? Dipper wanted to demand, He can take care of himself. He’s not their target. You are.
But those assholes would absolutely use him to lure her in, just like they’d tried with Elsie. And Pacifica would go because she was a loyal idiot. A ridiculous idiot who looked a trap in the face and decided it simply wasn’t her problem.
A sleep deprived mess of a decent person. He’d ruined her.
“I have to,” Pacifica said, “Sorry.”
“Just be careful, please.”
“I will.”
“We’re going to do this on Sunday - pick a time. I’m not going to let you fail.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t you tutor on Sundays?”
“Oh. Uh- No. Yes. Sometimes. The group is just…taking a little breather break. Eric tried to fight Teddy and uh- there’s tension.”
“Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah. What happened? Why did they fight?”
“Over a girl.”
“And?”
“I broke it up but everyone needs some time to chill out.”
“You broke it up?”
“Yeah, they were going to get expelled if they kept going and they’re the reason that I don’t get beat up. Not getting beat up has been really good for me.”
“So… you got in the middle of an ongoing fight?”
“...Yes?”
“Dipper!”
“They weren’t going to hurt me!”
“Um, sure, okay; but they totally could have!”
“Sorry, Pot, were you in the middle of saying something?”
“Sorry, Kettle, did you forget the big ol’ crack you have going down your side?”
“So your slightly smaller but much more limiting crack is nothing - but mine is a problem… Sorry, just remind me, real quick; which of us is actively being pursued by vampires? Hmm?”
“It’s cool that you broke it up,” Pacifica said as if he wouldn’t see exactly what she was doing, “That was kinda badass of you.”
“Nu-uh, I’m not going to call you being reckless ‘badass’ so don’t even try it.”
“Then how about you send some of that general regard for my safety down the line and hopefully Spider-Man can utilize it?”
“Fine.”
“Thank you.”
“I wish I could be there.”
“I know.”
“He better keep an eye on you.”
“He will. We’ll leave if anything feels weird.”
“Your weird meter is broken. And your danger meter. And your self-preservation-”
“Dipper!”
Goddamn it. This was the least helpful thing he could be doing. “Sorry. You’re going to be fine, I know you will. But please text me when you’re done, let me know you’re okay. Tell me what it is.”
“Obviously. Maybe when this test is over and you get me a B, I’ll write you a journal entry.”
“I’ll hold you to that. Speaking of writing, my mom really wants to read your essay. Can you please send it over?”
“Ugh.”
“Please.”
“But what if she says it sucks?”
“Does it suck?”
“No.”
“Then she won’t. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Can you get some sleep?”
“Oh my god, Dad, you’re on a roll today.”
“So that’s a yes?”
“That’s a reluctant ‘fine.’ “
“Sold. I’ll take a reluctant ‘fine’.”
His stomach fluttered at Pacifica’s displeased little scowl and the fact he could hear her give into it. This. The language that they both spoke fluently.
“Please text me tomorrow.”
“I will. I promise. Thanks.”
“Don’t forget my eight dollar tutoring fee.”
Pacifica grinned. She put her head in her hands as if she could hide it. “Cash or card?” she asked from behind her hands.
“Cash. Crisp ones please.”
“You’re getting kinda uppity lately.”
“The word you’re looking for is ‘assertive’.”
“The word I’m looking for is ‘presumptuous.” Her face was mostly back under control, her hands sliding down to her desk. She looked deep into the screen and frowned, then leaned forward. “Stand up straight for a sec.”
“I am up straight.”
“No. Like, stand up. Like, up. No, Dipper, Jesus Christ wept, I swear. Stand up with your shoulders apart. Your neck shouldn’t be there, it’s meant to be higher than your solar plexus, you know that right?”
Dipper sighed and groaned and grumbled, accusing her of trying to make him look stupid, of being an idiot, of not understanding how human bodies worked, and then finally he complied and glared, “Okay, Pacifica, what is it?”
“Did you get taller?”
“Paz!”
“Are you taller than me now?” Pacifica frowned into the camera.
“Probably.”
“I like that less.”
“Less than…?”
“Your shoulders. They’re wider.”
Dipper’s eyes narrowed, he checked right and left for some sort of cue card or hint or prank. When he realized she was entirely serious, avoiding his gaze but refusing to fidget. Set in a way that he didn’t entirely understand.
“I… I- uh- I’m not sure I-”
“I’m going to get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Pacifica didn’t look at the camera. She hung up the moment she finished speaking.
Dipper glared at his computer. With four words, Pacifica had ensured he wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.
He replayed the fight a lot, actually.
Eric was a nervous guy, he was tall and sort of gangly and he had an air of someone not to mess with. Dipper realized pretty soon into their studying sessions that he wasn’t in real danger of pissing him off enough to get punched, but he tried not to test it anyway. He kept calm - tried not to be punch-able. The older boy would get frustrated sometimes; get short and mean. Angry that it was easy for Dipper and not for him.
Dipper was good with people like that. He just moved on and worked on his own thing. He had shit to do and Eric would want help soon enough. Whatever else, he did work hard.
Dipper said it one day; “It’s cool that you want to be good at this. Just… sorry, that means you have to be bad at it first.”
“What?”
“You like this.”
“It’s just numbers.”
“Then why bother?” Dipper shrugged, “You’re scraping a C. That should be enough to graduate. You’re still here. Lining my pockets.”
“Shut up,” Eric shoved him and left their study session in a put on huff, trying not to smile. Next week he brought Ted. Teddy, but Dipper wasn’t allowed to call him that at first. That was fun while it lasted.
Then Eric brought Alice. He introduced her to Dipper and paid for her inclusion. Teddy joined them halfway through. Alice couldn’t stop looking at him. Dipper heard the warning bells but he ignored them. He caught Alice and Ted with their legs pressed together under the table. The alarms got very, very loud.
They’d just finished a study session. Eric stayed behind and waited for the slower Dipper, “What are you reading?”
“Frankenstein.”
“Like the movie?”
“Kinda - denser, old-timey.”
“Is that for an English project?”
“No. A thing my friend asked me to do.”
“Like a book club? My mom does one of those.”
“Sure,” Dipper grinned, “I have a girl to impress.”
“The one from the phone call?”
“Yeah.”
“It makes sense that two nerds would date each other,” Eric grabbed the book from the table, “We’re gonna grab a burger. You coming?”
Dipper’s mind had gone blank. He had no reason to say no.
“Sure. Let me just call my dad,” he said, feeling the impending sense of doom that came with making small talk for a long time. That came with being a potential friend and not just ‘the tutor who isn’t the worst’.
Oh god.
He took a deep breath, called his dad. He tried to keep his heart from beating so loudly as he made his way out. Then his impending sense of doom proved him right.
“Wait a second,” Dipper had called, as he watched Eric storm away - from Alice and Teddy holding hands.
They fought on Tuesday. Lunch hour. Middle of the hall.
Dipper thought about it a lot.
He remembered diving under Eric’s fist and pushing his arm out of his way. He pictured Ted’s hands on his back, heavy and ready to shove Dipper out of the way. Dipper had pushed him back. Turned his head and glared at him. Challenged him to try it again. He wasn’t moving - Ted stared at him, at a loss for how to deal with the sudden arrival of someone who should be running from this exact scenario.
“Are you guys insane? This is an instant expulsion. You know, because of the whole broken leg scenario a few months back? Remember? Mine? Back off. Move on.”
Eric’s arm was still in Dipper’s grip. Two more people had come forward. Alice grabbed Teddy’s hand and pulled him away. Dipper felt Eric jerk away from him.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Eric glared.
He’d invited him to get burgers two days before.
“You’re welcome,” Dipper said, his back starting to sweat an alarming amount, “See you around.”
He’d walked away. He’d spent the next period absolutely lost in space. His teacher had called on him three times and every single time he had been somewhere else. His heart was pounding loudly in his ears. He had kept waiting for a hand on his shoulder to yank him roughly back. A hand to grab his backpack and spill the contents out into the hall.
No one did.
Mabel lost her mind a little. They agreed to keep this incident entirely from their parents. Travis gave him a fist bump and made him do five extra pull ups because they were ‘clearly working’. He also tried to show him how to punch but Dipper explained that both of his Grunkles already taught him how. Travis dared him to punch him and was legitimately winded when Dipper hit his stomach.
Dipper thought about that moment a lot. He looked down at the walking cast that he’d been upgraded to. He thought about the ways that could have gone badly.
He pictured the ways it had gone reasonably okay.
He never imagined she’d be so worried. He thought she’d jump to congratulate him on his victory and tell him how impressed she was.
He came back over and over to Pacifica unable to meet his eyes when she told him his shoulders looked wider. He tried not to be impatient to tell her about Frankenstein. He knew what the book on the desk was now. He’d seen his mother reading something on her computer, frowning as she read.
“Is that it?”
“Is what ‘it’?”
“You have your ‘I’m worried about Pacifica’ face on.”
“I am worried about Pacifica,” his mom confirmed.
“She’s really sleep deprived, maybe she just needs another edit or-”
“I’m not sure how to explain it,” his mother frowned again, “It’s plain good. She nailed what she needed to nail.”
“So… what’s the problem?”
“It just made me sad. I’m not sure why. It’s just-”
“ ‘The Inherent Tragedy of Soulmates’?” Dipper reached past his mom and started to scroll. She lightly smacked his hand and then much more firmly removed it from the mouse. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You want to read it?”
“If it’s named like that, then yeah, I want to read it.”
“The title is a little misleading, I’m not sure you need to panic about this.”
“I’m not panicking,” Dipper said, staring at the title and panicking.
Olivia met his eyes, “I think she’ll be really happy that you want to read it. And I think you need to ask her.”
The Inherent Tragedy of Soulmates.
It was about a book. Wuthering Heights, the one that had lived on Pacifica’s desk.
He looked it up online for some clues as to how soulmates… soulmate-ed in that book. It didn’t sound great. It sounded like every single red flag in one. Is that how Pacifica saw them?
It couldn’t be.
It couldn’t be.
Because she told him his shoulders were wider. She told him it scared her that he’d jumped into that fight. That wasn’t tragic, that was progress.
Her version of telling him how she felt. Her slow crawl back to loving him.
He knew it was selfish. With everything else, he could understand being the lowest priority on her list. But he wasn’t - she was quiet about it, she was careful about it. And she was coming back.
She didn’t text him on Saturday.
She called Mabel, loudly telling her to open the lab. The phone hit something.
Twenty minutes later she called again and told Mabel that they were okay. Just battered. Mabel asked her to call once they were cleaned up.
Dipper immediately called Wendy.
Wendy had a fight with Layla about how she should have gone with Basil and Pacifica and Layla was focusing on all the wrong things.
Then the three of them all waited for news.
Basil sent a text on Pacifica’s phone that she was asleep and he didn’t want to wake her up. He’d bring them up to speed.
It was the first time Dipper felt relief at hearing his rival’s voice; Basil sounded exhausted but at least he had answers for them. Fred and Mona were out in the light on Wednesday, watching them in the park. It started raining the moment they entered the woods. They’d been snuck up on.
Fred and Mona seemed set on bringing Pacifica somewhere.
“We thought they’d just beat her up and get an apology. Now it’s… it’s not that. It’s… they want to do something. Something you can’t do in the woods.”
“Turn her?” Mabel asked.
“Why would they want to keep her around for ages?” Dipper asked.
“I don’t know, but Fred threatened to- uh- yeah… they wanted to go somewhere else.”
Mabel exchanged a look with Dipper.
“They shouldn’t be able to go out in the sun. How can they do that?”
Basil sighed, “Gut impulse?”
What else did they have?
“Sure,” Dipper said.
“I think the nosebleeds have something to do with it. She had another one on the day we went to the skatepark. She-“ Basil got quieter, “Whatever spooky thing was in that necklace? She needs more of that. She needs more of whatever help there is.”
“ ‘Was’?” Dipper frowned, “ ‘Was’? What happened to the necklace?”
“He broke it. Gave him a hell of a burn though.”
“Shit.” Mabel and Dipper spoke in unison, panic mounting in unison.
“I’m guessing those aren’t easy to come by?”
“No,” Dipper said, “I’m not sure you get more than one. I’ll have to figure something out.”
“I can try?” Mabel said quietly, then she stiffened her resolve, “I’ll try.”
“What’s the plan?” Dipper asked, “What’s next?”
“Trying to keep Wendy from a rampage,” Basil replied, “Pacifica is probably grounded.”
“They’ll take her phone away,” Mabel said, “She’s going to need a phone. I have some allowance, I’ll send it over. Dipper? You have-”
“I got it,” Basil said quickly, “I have a feeling I’m not going to be welcome in the Northwest household any time soon, so I’ll get Claudia to-”
“They’re going to lock her up,” Dipper said, not really listening to either of them, “Her parents are going to keep her home until she can look half-decent. Does she look half-decent?”
“No,” Basil said.
“Can you ask her to call us when she wakes up?” Mabel asked, “We need to make a plan. Wendy can help us out; she has a whole little morse code thing she does with her knife, Paz knows it. We’ll communicate, make sure that she’s okay.”
Dipper felt himself get white hot. Pacifica didn’t tell him about the two idiots watching her in the park. She didn’t call him to open the lab door, she called Mabel who had a million more extracurriculars and was the entirely wrong choice. She was a lovely choice generally but she was the wrong one for this particular situation. No. He was mad because of that too. That Pacifica trusted her more than she did him.
‘What are you doing?’
A sleepy mumble.
‘The Pines,’ Basil replied, ‘Call them when you wake up.’
‘I’m awake.’
“Tell her to go back to sleep,” Dipper said.
“Don’t listen to him,” Mabel said quickly, “I want to talk to her.”
Mabel took the phone and huddled in a corner with Pacifica in her ear. Dipper couldn’t hear much. He didn’t want to. Mabel asked questions, she winced once and suddenly Dipper needed to hear. He needed to. How bad was it?
“I feel like maybe you should have revisited the whole karate thing before you needed it,” Mabel said, “I’ve seen Karate Kid. You should have cleaned some more windows, Pacifica.”
Now he was dropping some eaves; he could hear Pacifica’s irate, high pitched response: ‘No one told me they’d punch my throat, they only mentioned the biting. I was watching out for the biting.”
Mabel nodded sympathetically, “That’s just how it is sometimes. You’re watching someone’s mouth but you don’t see the red flag that is them always holding a puppet. Gotta watch out for the hands.”
Pacifica giggled - Dipper didn’t hear it, he just saw it in Mabel’s shoulders; they relaxed, dropped back down and then she hunched over her phone, her voice getting quieter, “You swear you’re okay?”
Dipper took a step closer, this one he had to hear. He had to see what Mabel heard. She smiled a little, “All that for a duckling. Swanling. I vote you call it Crowley or Spark Lee. We can workshop it.”
An irate response. ‘Something classier please’. Then her voice disappeared again. Mabel looked over her shoulder and nearly jumped at how close Dipper had gotten. She pointed to her phone and glared, motioning for him to back off.
“Oh. Uh- yeah, he’s here. You wanna-?” she motioned for him to come back again, now urgently. He couldn’t just be there. At least try to play this cool. Don’t self-destruct.
“She wants to talk to you,” Mabel said, holding her hand over the receiver. Dipper nodded and then properly backed off for Mabel’s goodbye. A heartfelt one, Pacifica was going into solitary. She might only be allowed a phone at school. Her laptop. Communication would be sparse.
He took the phone and didn’t know what to do at first. It was her fault, really, for telling him he was allowed to be angry. He was trying very hard not to be angry but it came from the same place as love. It burned somewhere even when he lifted the phone to his ear. “Hey,” he said through numb lips.
Pacifica was so many things but dumb generally wasn’t one of them. She was going crooked somehow. Getting ground down. Being consumed.
Consumed.
Goddamnit.
She sounded stiff, like her mouth was struggling to get around some words.
“Don’t get mad at me,” she said, her voice sounding almost steady and very reasonable. Knowing none of this was reasonable, “I didn’t know it would happen like this. I brought a bat but Basil needed it- I understand why you’d be-” here she tried to inhale but it caught in her throat, “- uh- frustrated, but I need you to not be. I need you to wait on the whole being really angry at me thing. Can you do that? I really need-”
“Breathe,” Dipper told her and himself, why did his throat get tight? Why did his eyes burn? “It’s fine. Calm down. No guns, they’re not ablazing. We will reschedule the yelling for a later date. In the meantime can we make an attempt at breathing? I would love it if you would try the whole breathing thing again.”
“You can’t see me.”
“I have ears.”
“Shut up, Dipper.”
Pacifica sounded like she’d caught some air. They were both just there for a moment. Quiet. Comfortable. He was glad to hear her voice. She was glad to hear his. Pacifica broke the silence first.
“Fred broke it; I changed the chain out. I shouldn’t have changed the chain out.”
“I’m pretty sure these aren’t indestructible even with the chain, it wouldn’t have made a difference. It did what it had to do but now we need something even bigger.”
“I should have fought him. I should have made it harder.”
“It sounds like you got your ass handed to you. No offense - been there. Now you know that they’re going to fight dirty. You have to as well.”
“I almost de-eye balled someone. That’s… not good, is it?”
“I’m not the good person police,” Dipper reminded her, “Gross. Really gross. You’re terrifying, just keep being terrifying. Make them think twice and then three times and then four times before they try this again.”
“I’m not sure I can. I’m really tired, Dipper.”
This time it wasn’t an excuse to leave. A defense mechanism. This time it was a confession.
“I’m going to call my Grunkles.”
“I don’t know when I’ll be out,” she said, “I don’t know what happens from here.”
“You’re going to be incredibly grounded and extremely bored; you might as well get some sleep, read some books you’ve been wanting to read… Do some chemistry homework-”
“Shut up.”
“-and then when you’re out we’ll figure out what has to happen. It sounds like you need to find a pillow and use it. For a long time. Call me when you can.”
“I will. We can reschedule that yelling thing.”
“We very much will, I am… I’m really mad at you. I’m not sure I’ve ever been so mad at you.”
“Okay. I understand.”
“You mean the world to me, you understand that too?”
“I heard you. Even once the-” she moved her phone from one side to the other, her voice got quieter, she sounded devastated, “I think I could feel it. Even when Spider-Man broke. You told me to get up.”
“And?”
“I needed to get up. You were right.”
“I’d like that in writing.”
Dipper heard her relief that he was letting it slide. That he wasn’t pushing her or interrogating further even though he should. He really, really wanted to. They were both quiet again. He was supposed to say goodnight and then she’d say it back and they’d both hang up. Then he wouldn’t hear from her.
“Can I read your essay? Mom says I have to ask.”
“You want to read one of my essays?”
“That one. Specifically.”
“The title is misleading.”
“I’ve heard.”
“Did your mom like it?”
“She thought it was very good. Does that make you happy?”
“Yes. To both. You can read it and I’m glad your mom liked it.”
“That’s a good start,” he was sure there was something else but it was the wrong time. It was always the wrong time. There was always something else.
Soon. Soon they’d talk properly. “You need anything else?”
“No, I’m set. Thank you.”
“Okay. Good night, B.”
Pacifica didn’t reply and he frowned, was ‘B’ too much? She called him ‘M’ in a text. He had evidence. He’d only re-read it about a million times. What was he supposed to say? ‘Sorry, I thought we were on the same page and I see now that I have over-taxed your mess of a brain and it’s not even for something important. I am so-’
"You’re a really special person, Dipper. It’s stupid that I’ve never told you that before.”
Then she hung up.