Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

She had to be dreaming.

But she wasn’t, the way Dipper was clinging tightly to her was indication of that. Finally, after over twenty four months spent apart from her other half, she was reunited with him. Mabel held onto him with all her strength, streams of tears pouring down her face like a waterfall as an incredible relief and weight she didn’t know she had been holding was released from her shoulders and she felt complete. After all this time and so much hardship, she was back in Gravity Falls where she belonged. It was home. The dark, drippy cavernous space of the basement and the pale blue light from the portal was tear jerking. Somewhere, she was vaguely aware of what sounded like sniffling coming from Grunkle Stan. 

Wait, Grunkle Stan! 

Mabel leapt to her feet like a rocket taking off into the atmosphere and screamed in only a pitch dogs could really hear, “GRUNKLE STAN!!” 

The tired, puffy eyed old man lifted his head from Ford’s shoulder and his face lit up brighter than the noon day sun of the scorching Dimension 23-C and cried, “Mabel!” He left Ford’s embrace and unhesitantly scooped up his great-niece into his brutish arms and the girl responded by hugging him around the neck and nuzzling into his grayed hair and dusty fez. 

“You’ve grown so much pumpkin!” He blubbered in his amazingly familiar gruff tone. Then he laughed shakily and continued, “You’ve gotten heavy. What’s Ford been feeding you, eh?”

The teen girl returned a watery laugh and wiped her eyes and grinned, “I missed you too, Grunkle Stan.” 

He was just as she remembered him. All old and gross and well, grunkley. He still sounded like he smoked a pack a day and smelled like she expected him to, which wasn’t exactly like a basket of roses to be honest, but it meant so much to her that her heart was bursting at the seams. She idly wondered if it was possible to die from a heart broken by overflowing joy as she grinned ear to ear at him while he held her.

No more than a few feet away from Mable and Stan, Dipper and Ford’s faces were lit up like Christmas trees watching their respective twins reunite with one another. Ford chuckled quietly to himself and caught Dipper’s eye, who turned his head slightly and made eye contact with the Author of the Journals himself. The teen boy was embarrassed to admit he felt a small cluster of butterflies rise in his stomach as the older, six-fingered man closed the distance between them in a few short steps, his black trench coat following loyally behind him like a cape.

Stanford extended his hand to shake with a warm smile, which Dipper took with no shortness of excitement. “Hello Dipper, it’s a great pleasure to finally meet you. I’ve heard high praises about you from your sister.”

Dipper blinked in surprise and felt his ears redden a little. “Th-thanks Great Uncle Ford. It’s good to meet you too.” 

The teen boy and Ford were too busy exchanging pleasantries to see the conspiratory grins Mabel and Stan had given each other now that the man had set her down. She tiptoed towards them like a hunting cat and then yelled, “Dogpile!” as she leapt at them with her arms out wide.

Mabel’s weight alone wasn’t enough to knock the two men, one young and one old, off of their feet. She got them to wobble somewhat but needless to say, when Stan joined in shortly after, the four family members found themselves in a heap on the ground. Ford yelped in alarm while Dipper’s laugh was cut off when he caught Mabel’s elbow in his ribs and the two attackers giggled mischievously as they all went down. Stan was sitting on Ford, Mabel’s feet were next to Dipper’s head, and the frigid, stony ground didn’t exactly make for the comfiest of floors to be tackled on but all four were soon laughing until tears came despite pained cries of discomfort from various points on their bodies. 

It was only at that moment that a fifth figure apprehensively stepped out into the portal room, her platinum blonde hair reflecting the cold blue light from the portal before it flickered one last time and went dormant. Her smile was that of sunshine and fear and she approached the group with equal amounts of excitement and anxiousness.

Dipper grunted with exertion as he pulled himself out from the bottom of the pile of bodies and picked himself up off the floor and motioned for the young lady to come closer. “Paz, c’mere! Come say hi!” 

Mabel got to her feet and helped Ford up, who then helped Stan up. She gazed at the other girl for a moment with a lack of recognition before the lightbulb went off in her brain and realization came into her eyes and her jaw dropped. “Pacifica? Girl, is that really you? You’re a total babe!”

“Oh!” Pacifica exclaimed at the compliment and chuckled nervously. “Yeah, it’s me. H-how’ve you been, Mabel? I like the haircut.” 

The brunette ran her fingers through her hair that fell to her chin, chopped off by a knife blade not an hour earlier and her radiant smile faltered for only a second, as if she was remembering something painful, before it came back in full force and she rushed to hug the other girl. A warmness swelled in the blonde’s chest as Mabel hugged her as strong and steady as an ox and she embraced her back. Before she could stop herself, she was crying. An immense relief flooded her senses and a guilt she had been carrying evaporated from her like morning dew to the heat of the day. Mabel was safe, Ford was safe, and neither of them appeared terribly hurt. It seemed to her like Bill’s threats of violence hadn’t gone through because she was there, hugging Mabel to prove it. A sob escaped her and she squeezed her boyfriend’s sister tighter, relishing in the proof of their safety her embrace communicated. 

Then Dipper was there, hugging both of them and she completely broke down, sobbing into the taller girl’s neck as Dipper’s comforting arms fit snugly around her and Mabel’s shoulders. He placed his chin atop her head as Mabel began to sniffle once more and she felt one of Dipper’s tears land in her hair. 

“Hoo-boy, somebody’s cutting damn onions in here.” She heard Stan sniffle from somewhere behind her. 

“No, it’s just you.” Ford grinned shakily, wiping his own eyes with his hand on his twin’s shoulder.

Through gasping breaths, Pacifica managed to cry out, “I’m s-s-s-so glad you and Ford are safe. You ha-a-ave no idea.” She pulled away from the two twins and fanned her face with her hands as her mascara ran down her cheeks in streaks.

Dipper put his arm around his girlfriend comfortingly and gazed down lovingly at her, knowing full well what was going through her mind at the moment. The shame she carried was a hefty one and seeing Mabel and Ford safe and sound did a great deal to lighten it. 

Mabel wiped her nose on her black cloak and her eyes flickered back and forth between her twin and the way he closely held her petite friend before something clicked in her brain and her eyes widened with girly excitement. “No. Freaking. Way!” She gushed, bringing a hand over her mouth as she gasped. “Ohmygosh, you two are a couple! This is amazing! Dipper, kiss Pacifica for me right now!” 

Pacifica keeled over into a brief giggling fit while Dipper blushed before she straightened herself back up and planted a big sloppy kiss on Dipper’s lips. “There ya go, girlie.” She blushed.

The excited squeal Mabel gave was like music to Pacifica’s ears and she found herself grinning abashedly as Ford approached her with Stan right behind. He held out his hand with a bit of nervousness and a kind smile, albeit confused. 

“Pacifica, was it? It’s nice to meet you. I’m Stanford Pines.” He said gruffly. 

“He’s the author of the journals!” Mabel beamed proudly.

“Yes, I know that Mabel,” Pacifica took his hand and shook it with all the grace of an elite class member. “The pleasure is all mine, Dr. Pines.”

The old man ended the firm handshake and raised his hands disarmingly. “Please, call me Ford.”

“Okay, Ford.” The blonde nodded happily. 

It was interesting, she noticed, how alike yet dissimilar Stan and Ford seemed and behaved standing side by side. She had expected them to be carbon copies of one another, being identical twins and all. But to her shock, she couldn’t have been further from the truth. Both men bore the same face and body structure but the similarities stopped there. Ford was much thinner than Stan, appearing muscular in his older age even underneath his thick sweater and trench coat. He was also a few inches taller because of Stan’s slouch, with only the fez atop his head evening out their height. While Stan carried himself with a relaxed and carefree manner, Ford took up space and had an immense presence in the room with his shoulders wide and eyes piercing. The more studious of the old twins also kept his hair much longer and wilder than Stan’s and was still as thick as Dipper’s curly locks even as it was long grayed. He smiled at her with white, dentureless teeth and she realized that Ford had taken much better care of himself over the years than Stan had. He was a total silver fox and had no idea. Would Dipper look like that when he was older? She kinda hoped so… Wait- ugh!

Pacifica blinked herself out of her private thoughts when she caught herself staring and cleared her throat embarrassedly, as if the rest of the room had been reading her mind. “Are you guys safe?” She asked Ford instead.

From where she had climbed up onto Stan’s back and forced him to give her a piggyback ride, Mabel gave a pained frown that fought with the cheer on her face and stated with faltered contentment,  “Well, we are now. We had a pretty big scare with someone we’re going to have to talk to you guys about but I think we’re past that.”

“Was that someone a yellow triangle with who thinks he’s the best thing since sliced bread and a voice as soothing as a bandsaw?” Stan grunted with a fire in his voice.

Ford’s hand tightened its grip on Stan’s shoulder and he went rigid, swallowing hard. “Y-you know about Bill?” He balked with alarm in his eyes. 

“Hey, easy there Sixer, of course we know about him. That bastard is the reason none of us have gotten any sleep the last several days.” He shivered in the cold of the dim room and a sudden chill went up his spine and he could feel the white hot gaze of the portal baking down on them.  “So why don’t we get our bearings upstairs where it’s not moist and freaky, yeah?”

Mabel clapped her hands to her cheeks and screamed as she threw herself from Stan’s back and grabbed Dipper and Pacifica by the wrists and bounced with over excitement, pulling them towards the elevator. “Come on, come on! Show me everything!” The girl whooped at them, “Is Waddles here? I have to see him! I have to see my old room and the yellow couch, and the thirty year old tv, and the moldy spots on the ceiling, and the creaky stairs, and the secret hidden room with the body swap carpet, and the-” she continued on with a waterfall of words as she ran with the teen couple to the elevator, leaving Stan and Ford behind. 

Stan chuckled heartily before walking off after them but didn’t get far when Ford pulled him back. “What?” He questioned, feeling uneasiness rise in his gut when he saw the serious expression on Ford’s face. 

Here it goes Stan, he’s going to tell you you’re a total screw up and he doesn’t love you. A sad and tired voice said to him.

“Stan,” Ford began with a bit of a growl in his voice as he clutched his twin’s shoulders, “I need to know, does anyone else know about this?”

Stan’s shameful frown turned to a soft scowl and he crossed his arms defensively. “No, just you, me, the kids here, my two employees and one employee’s girlfriend, and McGucket. No one else.”

Ford rubbed his eyes frustratedly. Of course Stan would let something as important and secretive as the portal loose among those around him. But then his words rang through him again and he froze. McGucket. Stan had specifically brought up McGucket as someone who knew about the portal and the horribly, intimately, familiar emotion of shame bubbled and festered in his heart like an infected wound. He wanted to shake Stan and demand of him how his old college buddy was doing but stopped himself and sighed deeply instead, remembering his latest conversation with Mabel. 

Trust no one. 

Cipher’s words that he had planted like the seeds of a choking vine in his garden of a mind over thirty years ago, rooted in the rich soil of shame and isolation, went through his head, telling him to not trust Stan. He took a mental trowel to the thorny bristles and embedded the blade of the shovel deep alongside the evil’s roots and yanked up dirt and weed, finally giving the best parts of him, as stunted as they were, the room and nurturing they needed to grow. 

His expression faltered into uncertainty as he mentally grabbed at another thick stalked weed and tugged, his voice softening. “Okay, okay… Thank you, for saving us. There’s so much I need to say to you and I know there’s just as much that you must have to say to me.” He took in a deep breath, ignoring the impish cries of his ego ghoulishly screeching and gnashing its teeth, pestering him to swallow his humility and tear into his twin for everything he had ever done to him, and wholeheartedly welcomed the tidal wave of anxiety that came paired up with his emotional vulnerability instead. “I-I-I I’m sorry Stanley,” he stammered with a whisper, “I’m so sorry.” A tear squeaked past his right eye, the bad one that used to bleed and ache all bloodshot after Cipher possessed him, and he meant his words sincerely. 

All at once, all the time Stan had spent running from himself his whole life, from his own shortcomings and failures, finally caught up to him with a blow to his chest that felt about as mild as being plowed over by a train. The thirty years he had spent dedicating his life to getting his twin back and then the two and a half more he used getting both of them back felt like a blink of an eye in that moment and he realized that he would do it all again in a heartbeat. Suddenly being a lifelong screw up and a con man, more insecure than any popular highschool girl, and destined for failure without his other half were at the forefront of his mind. The nights spent staring at the ceiling, certain that Ford must have hated him were beginning to lose their weight because now he was here, and he was apologizing. To him. 

“I… Thanks, Sixer.” He found himself saying, his voice sounding like it was far away. He swallowed hard, blinking back the cracking dam that stung hotly in his eyes. “I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry for every stupid thing I’ve ever done… It was all an accident, all of it, y’know?” His voice cracked and the dam burst, salty steams traveling down his stubbly cheeks. “I never meant… for anything bad to happen to either of you. I’ve made so many stupid mistakes a-and…” He took in a deep breath and finally looked Ford in the eyes, who gazed back at him with a mixture of understanding, love, and apprehension with an undertone of hurt. 

His twin stared somberly at him, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “I know you’re far from perfect, Lee. Like I said, we have a lot to discuss.” The pain didn’t leave his expression but the apprehension did and it was replaced with kindness. “Let’s talk more later and celebrate now, why don’t we?” He clapped Stan on the back and stepped forward towards the empty elevator, with the teens bounding around somewhere happily upstairs. 

“Oh, and that Dimensional Vortex Neutralizer?” Ford called from over his shoulder, “That’s a nice touch to the portal. We won’t have to worry about rifts to the Nightmare Realm opening any time soon.”

So Stan did heed my warnings. The thought sat warmly in Ford’s chest.

Stan squared his jaw and broadened his shoulders, making him appear much more like his twin as he walked towards the elevator. “Thanks, it was mostly McGucket’s handiwork, though.”

The doors creakily closed behind the two brothers that had been apart for over forty years and together, they ascended into the Mystery Shack as family. Ford hid his hands in the sleeves of his coat and leaned against the car railing and coughed awkwardly. “How is he, McGucket I mean?”

“Yer old college buddy? Guy’s doin’ great for himself. Regained his sanity and moved into the ol’ Northwest Mansion. Dude’s loaded after selling his inventions to the feds. He uh made up with his son an’ everything.” Stan saw the soul racking guilt plain as day in Stanford’s body language and socked him lightly on the arm comfortingly. “Hey, don’t sweat it bro. There’ll be plenty of time to make amends or whatever now that you’re here.” 

Ford stopped hunching his shoulders and poked his hands out of his sleeves just enough for Stan to see his knuckles. Once again, his shame and ego howled in his head to deny he had done anything wrong and their thorns bristled even sharper to protect themselves since humility was painful but Ford mentally donned a pair of gardening gloves and firmly grasped his flaws by the stalk and dug around at the base with his trowel. “That’s what I’m afraid of. He must hate me. I was a poor excuse for a friend.”

The elevator finished its ascent and as the twins stepped up the stairs Stan commented, “Hey, well there’s lots of triangle shaped problems going around. He’s one manipulative bastard, I’ll give him that.” 

They opened the vending machine door to find the gift shop empty with golden evening light spilling cozily into the room and much laughter coming from the wide open back door. A chilly mid October breeze fluttered through the house but the earth air had never felt warmer to Ford. The branches of the redwood pines swayed gently with the weather and it was such a sight for sore eyes it made his heart throb. His lab looked radically different than it had over thirty years ago and it was jarring for him to look at. He missed the familiarity of knowing exactly where everything was but he slowed his shock and unease, reminding himself that there had been people living here for three decades and so of course it would make sense for his lab to become a home. Even with that in mind, he still wasn’t sure he actually liked the fact that there was a full on gift shop with cheap junk and merchandise under his roof but it was something he would have to get used to, he supposed.

Stan raised his hands disarmingly and continued, “It’s not a big deal since we’ve handled it but that Northwest girl, Pacifica, had a scare with him not too long ago. And Dipper got himself possessed once too. Apparently he also went fishing around in my mind at one point, so I get it, he’s been everywhere.”

Ford stared at him dumbfoundedly with his mouth open like a fish out of water and he stepped away from his twin to give him a taken aback look over, as if there was no possible way Stan could be so nonchalant about Bill. 

Stan kept going, “I can’t say I completely blame ya though, from what Dipper and Paz have told me, he can be a silver tongued devil when he wants to.” He shrugged, “But hey, that’s not for me to tango with, that’s between you and the hillbilly.” 

“I… What?” Stanford breathed in shock, beginning to pace. “H-how do you know all this? About my history with Bill?” His heart rate started to pick up and he began to quiver with anxiety, his notions of leaving the heavy talking behind to celebrate his and Mabel’s return completely forgotten.

“Woah, hey now Sixer, breathe before I end up cradling you on the floor. The short story is, we found your hidden study and pieced the story together with your journal and other papers you had lying around. I know pretty much everything, so do Dipper and Pacifica. Then when we figured out what was happening, that little geometric shit threatened Mabel. He said he was going to take her. It was only a couple of days later we got the portal countdown started.”

A dark and bitter part of Ford wanted to hiss so this is all your fault then? But he stamped it out viciously, making sure it would never voice its unneeded and sick opinions ever again. “Of course, it all makes sense…” He mused, bringing a hand to his chin. “So then what are the details? What’s the long story?”

Stan sighed and sat on top of the register, patting the empty space beside him for Ford to sit, which he did. “Awright, so about a week ago, the elevator broke down and Dipper found your study between the floors…”

Mabel had never felt more content in her entire life, laying atop the pot-bellied Waddles and chattering away to Dipper and Pacifica from where they sat on the steps. The air smelled so fresh and forested and it made her heart swell because it was earth air that filled her lungs; the scent of home. Everything was perfect, she was here with Dipper and Pacifica as a plus, talking to them face to face. She was so close to her brother she could reach out and touch him if she so wanted and it overjoyed her. The couple had gleefully accompanied her as she ran around in every room and hall in the shack, periodically exclaiming something in excitement, before they had found themselves in the backyard and Mabel had reunited with her precious pet pig that could hardly fit through the door anymore. They were so cheery to simply be in one another’s company to the point that all felt right in the world.

Suddenly, Mabel noticed Ford approaching in the doorway and cut herself off mid sentence, frowning at him. It made the old man’s stomach squirm. 

He called from the porch, “Greetings children. If you would be so kind, would you all  accompany Stan and I to the kitchen for supper?” 

“Sure Grunkle Ford.” Dipper beamed, helping Pacifica up and through the door.

Mabel slid off of Waddles and refused to meet Ford’s eyes as she walked back inside, looking towards the floor instead. A gut punch of sadness hit him in the abdomen but what made it worse was that he knew he was the cause of her hurt. He hardly had seconds to ruminate on this when Mabel’s shrill scream hit his ears from across the house.

“Ohmygosh, ohmygosh!” Mabel bellowed, hugging the new arrivals as tightly as she could. “I missed you guys so much!”

Wendy and Soos returned the embrace from the sweater wearing girl as Melody smiled on, carrying a covered dish full of smothered enchiladas. As it had turned out, rumor had spread to Soos’s Abuleta that two of the Pines family would be returning that evening, and she had spent the day preparing only the most delicious of feasts for everyone to take part in and enjoy. 

“Sixer, get in here an’ help me carry all these tamales.” Ford heard Stan call from somewhere in the shack, taking him out of his thoughts.

“Yes, yes, coming Stan.” He said, making his way to the front of the house. 

“Woah, dude.” A ginger girl in her late teens, who had just finished noogying Mabel, exclaimed beside him in the foyer. 

Ford turned and realized that the young woman was actually exclaiming at him and that the heavyset man in his mid twenties beside her was also goggling at him. But before he could outstretch his hand or even say a ‘hello’ to either of them, Stan had shoved a hot tray of tamales into his arms and was grunting for him to get a move on to the kitchen. Ford set the food down on the kitchen counter while Dipper and Pacifica were busy moving the wooden table from the living room into the place they would all be eating while Abuleta set the table and Stan walked by with yet another full tray of divine looking authentic Mexican food. The flannel wearing girl and hispanic man followed Mabel into the kitchen, still eyeing him all the way. 

Then the young man said to his great-niece, “So Mabel dawg are you gonna introduce us or what?” 

“Oh!” Mabel remarked, as if she hadn’t even thought of it. “Guys, this is Ford. He took care of me for over two years in the Multiverse.” Then she gestured to the redhead, “Wendy, this is Ford, Grunkle Ford, this is Wendy.” Next was the young man, “Ford, this is Soos.” There was a lot of forced cheer in her voice that Ford took an uneasy note of. “They both work for Grunkle Stan at the Mystery Shack.”

Luckily, neither Wendy nor Soos seemed to notice the insincere happiness in the teen and they enthusiastically shook hands with him. To his relief, neither commented on his extra finger. 

“Is McGucket coming?” Pacifica asked as she placed the ratty tablemats down.

“He said on the phone that he’s not gonna make it.” Stan grunted. “Somethin’ about a meeting with Washington.”

It wasn’t long before everyone, sans McGucket, was gathered around the two tables in the small kitchen, making the space feel rather full. With Mabel choosing to sit in between Dipper and Wendy, Ford felt as though he was at a loss for where to seat himself. He understood that the girl wasn’t super keen on being super close to him right now and that she had a lot of catching up to do with her friends and family. So needless to say, he was grateful when Stan saw him standing off to the side awkwardly and motioned for him to come sit near him. 

Soon after that, the room was alive and well with laughter and amazing food shared between loved ones and Ford’s worry melted away and Mabel was back smiling at full force. Every last soul was ecstatic to hear about Mabel and Ford’s adventures across dimensions and the sweater wearing twins were just as enthusiastic to learn what their counterparts had been up to. Mabel made a special effort to keep the stories she told lighthearted so as to not ruin the mood that had swelled between friends. Besides, not everybody here needed to know all that she and Ford had been through. It seemed as though Ford was on the same wavelength as her since he refrained from saying a peep about their encounters with the demoness Ysithyl or the events of Dimension 52 that the King of Demons himself had broken into to kidnap Mabel for his own nefarious purposes.

“...But everything was upside down, as in, the gravity pulled in the exact opposite direction as expected. So Mabel and I had to learn to walk upside down, which wasn’t a pleasant experience, let me tell you!…” Ford laughed and he put another forkful of rice and beans into his mouth.

“Ooh ooh! Tell them about the double gravity dimension, Grunkle Ford!” Mabel insisted with a mouth full of food. 

Ford gave her a stern yet light hearted look, he had taught her better than to talk through a mouthful of food. She rolled her eyes good naturedly at him and swallowed before speaking up, “Or y’know, I can!” 

“I’m still lost on the part where you said you had to walk upside down.” Melody input with a grin.

“...It was right on our heels!” Mabel conveyed dramatically, gesturing to the people around her, who were all enthralled by her words. “But then, just as we thought we were gonners, my grappling hook pulled us upwards and out of the clutches of the robotic Snake-Beast! Or so we thought…”

“You mean there’s more?” Soos gasped, bringing his hand to his cheeks.

“Shuddup Soos, this story’s gettin’ good.” Stan barked.

“ A diferencia del último cuento que contaste… ” Abuleta murmured to herself.

Ford continued where Mabel left off, his eyes aglow with storytelling magic, “Yes, well there we were, suspended on a bridge hundreds of feet in the air when…”

“...But Dipper thought it hadn’t been pressurized, so he opened the valve and got hydraulic fluid all over me!” Stan snorted, shaking the table as he brought a fist down, laughing hysterically. 

Dipper wanted nothing more than to shrink away and disappear in that moment as Stan recounted the tale of a rather unfortunate series of events that had gone on one night repairing the portal. 

“Hey, it happens to the best of us, man.” Wendy shrugged, taking a swig of her Pitt cola.

“Grunkle Stan, you’ve told this story so many times already. I think you’re beating a dead horse at this point.” Dipper muttered.

Stan mocked taking insult to Dipper’s words. “Wha- hey! It’s a funny story and now Mabel and Ford get to hear it, too.”

The teen looked to his girlfriend for support but she just giggled. "It is a pretty funny story, Dip.”

Dipper just groaned.

The sun set slowly behind the horizon as plates were emptied, refilled, and emptied once more among the many joyful voices. When the last of the group had finished up with their meal, Mabel stood out of her seat and came to the head of the table. All others were hushed in varying states of disbelief, eyeing her. 

The teen chuckled nervously to herself. “Okay stage fright, don’t hit me now.” She breathed, taking a handbell from her pocket. After ringing the bell, she whispered the words, “Aucwcmw, lfush fj pxhs.” and drew a series of three runes in the air and the table went into an uproar when a ball of light the size of a baseball emerged in Mabel’s free hand.

Wendy and Soos’s jaws dropped while Melody and Abuleta were blinking rapidly at what they saw in disbelief. Ford only smirked smugly as Stan begrudgingly slid him a twenty dollar bill under the table. Pacifica was so overwhelmed with sudden emotion staring into the warm light she thought she might cry while Dipper choked on his drink and his eyes became aglow with nerdy curiosity.

“Ta da, magic!” Mabel chortled, in stitches at the wide range of reactions she had gotten.

Dipper scrambled out of his chair and came to his sister’s side, apprehensively reaching towards the ball of light. 

“It’s not gonna bite Dip, it’s just radiance.” Mabel chuckled.

Her brother ran his fingers through the magical energy, feeling its warmth on his fingertips. “This is the craziest thing ever… You gotta teach me how to do that!” 

She threw the weightless sphere to the floor where it fizzled out and grinned, “Sure thing bro-bro.”

“I thought you two were pullin’ my leg.” Stan huffed, picking up his plate and taking it to the sink while he decisively ignored the shit eating grin Ford was giving him. 

Mabel gave Ford a confused smile and he flashed the twenty dollar bill at her and mischievous recognition dawned on her face. “Nice one, Grunkle Ford!” She chirped.

“Thank you, my dear.” He responded, picking up his own plate.

Mabel went back to her own dirty dishes and she and the rest of the group made quick work of cleaning up the kitchen and packaging leftovers. The Pines soon learned that the rest of their companions refused to take any food home with them, insisting it was a gift for the family. After the room had been rendered spotless and the extra meals were put in the fridge, Wendy, Soos, Melody, and Abuleta said their goodbyes to the Pines in the foyer, sharing out an abundance of hugs and exclamations of ‘welcome home!’ before it was just them in the cozy house again. 

Stan breathed a content sigh of relief and stretched his back. “I’m glad you two are here, safe and sound again.” He said, putting one hand on Mabel’s shoulder and one on Ford’s. 

“Yeah.” Dipper echoed. 

“Same here.” Pacifica nodded.

“I’m glad to be here! Now who’s ready for the afterparty?” Mabel sang before yawning immensely. 

The second wind she had gotten upon seeing her family again had finally come to an end and the events of the last twenty four hours came back to her, saturating her muscles with fatigue and her mind with a fog that only sleep could fix. Because to no one’s surprise, getting into a heated and emotionally charged fight with a loved one, then battling Bill Cipher before coming home and having a party with her friends made her exhausted. 

“Actually scratch that,” she backpedaled sleepily, “I’m ready to sleep till I die.” And with that, she turned and headed up the steps to Dipper’s attic bedroom. “Goodnight. Love you all.” She mumbled.

Dipper furrowed his brows in thought before he chuckled softly and called after his sister as he jogged up the stairs, “Mabel wait, I think you’d be more comfortable sharing a room with Pacifica!” 

Pacifica, now left alone with the grunkles, looked between them and stated, “Man she’s tired.”

Ford rubbed his eyes and hung his shoulders in an exhausted manner, also feeling quite tired himself. 

“Dipper brings up a good point blondie,” Stan told her, “I think it’d be best if you an’ Mabel shared the attic, there’s already two beds up there anyways. Dipper can sleep in  the parlor.”

“Good idea Stan, I’ll go gather my things then.” Pacifica agreed and then disappeared into the depths of the shack.

Stan flashed a brief grin at his twin before heading up the stairs to the attic himself, yelling, “Dipper pick up your crap, you’re moving rooms!” And Ford was left feeling alone and aimless once more.

He looked around in the foyer as if there was a clue hidden within it that would tell him what to do next. Unfortunately, he found no such hint and with a sigh, he decided it would probably be best if he also settled down for the night as thus, he headed off in the direction of his old room. The red and gold patterned door was barely open at the bottom of the stairs and he opened further and found himself staring at Pacifica, who was in her nightgown and stripping the sheets of a blowup mattress. 

“Oh! My apologies Pacifica, I didn’t realize you’d been staying here.” Ford cringed.

The blonde smiled at him and tried to reassure him, “Hey it’s no big deal. This was your room before after all, wasn’t it?”

The old man set his backpack down at the foot of the old crimson couch and cleared his throat. “Ahem, yes it was. Would you like assistance?” 

The teen smiled genuinely and said, “Yeah, I would. If you want to fold the sheets, I can gather my clothes.” 

There was a certain sadness in her voice when she spoke to him, one that hadn’t been there at other times in the night and he took notice of it. She kept stealing little unhappy looks in his direction as he deflated the blow up mattress. It made him uncomfortable and he wondered in silence if he had done something wrong before the girl cleared her throat to get his attention.

“Hey Ford, how much has Stan told you about me?” She asked shyly as she folded a pair of jeans.

“Well Ms. Northwest, he informed me that you’re living here temporarily because of your parents’ divorce a few months ago. He relayed to me that you’ve been a great strength to Dipper and a fine addition to the family.” His face darkened and his voice became solemn. “He also told me that you have a history with Bill Cipher, one that very nearly spelled doom to this dimension.” 

Pacifica held her breath, unsure as to what he would say next. Nothing she imagined him telling her was anything good and she braced herself for the sharp words of anger and resentment to fall upon her.

 He sighed, releasing the anxiety that had bubbled up in his chest and continued in a much softer tone, “But so do I.” 

The girl exhaled a little, taken aback by the gentleness in Ford’s words. “Huh?” She whispered.

“I was fooled by Bill’s flattering ways and I was a grown adult. I can’t imagine having to face his fury before even hitting my eighteenth birthday, like you have done.” He smiled mournfully up at her. “You’re incredibly courageous, Pacifica. I can’t say I blame you for your actions, either. If it’s my judgment you’re afraid of here, you’ll find none from me.” He finished placing the mattress back in its box and stood, holding her bedsheets in his hands.

“Oh.” She breathed, another layer of shame shedding from her. It was after several seconds of thought that she continued, “Thank you, Ford. That actually makes me feel a lot better.” 

As he headed for the door, he informed her, “Well, of course. It would simply be hypocritical of me to resent you for the very mistakes I made.” 

Without another word, he was gone. Pacifica was left staring at the empty doorway for a long time. After what felt like ages, she was finally able to tear her eyes away and complete packing up her clothes into her suitcase, once again in awe at the forgiveness she was so freely offered.

Dipper’s side of the room had been almost stripped bare when Pacifica finally lugged her bursting bubblegum pink suitcase up the steps. Ford was making her bed while Dipper and Stan busily finished emptying up the teen boy’s closet while Mabel watched sleepily from her bed, clutching several of her old stuffed animals in her arms and grinning contently. 

“Thank you Ford, you didn’t have to do that.” The blonde smiled, placing her suitcase at the food of her new bed.

“No, but it’s the least I could do.” The old man shrugged, pulling her purple pleated duvet up over the blankets.

Across the room, Mabel yawned. “Y’know, Dipper, Pacifica, we should totally have a sleepover tonight up here.” 

Dipper looked at Stan and chuckled. “Mabel, you could have told us that before we emptied my dresser and stripped my bed.”

The short-haired brunette grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, but go grab a sleeping bag or something, dip-dop.” 

The teen boy hoisted a hefty box full of his clothes up off the floor and nearly dropped it. “Well ok, whatever you want, Mabel.” He half smiled, half grimaced. 

“Here hun, let me help you with that.” His girlfriend advised, grabbing the other end of the box. 

“Thanks, Paz.” He breathed and together they headed out of the room and into the parlor down the stairs.

The couple placed the container of clothing down near the hearth Mabel had burned the remains of countless wax figures in and their heads came close together as they bent down to meet the box with the floor. Pacifica placed a quick kiss on his cheek before they stood and Dipper smiled. 

“Mabel looks so happy. It’s adorable.” She commented as they left the room. 

“Yeah, it’s nice.” Dipper responded.

They passed Stan and Ford both carrying their own boxes of Dipper’s clothing and other belongings in their hands as the more studious of the twins rattled on about something she couldn’t make heads or tails of.

Stan grinned at them as they crossed paths. “Hey, goodnight your two scamps. Stay outta trouble and don’t stay up too late.”

They nodded with understanding and headed across the living room and back up into the attic bedroom, where a sleeping bag had been rolled out on the floor between Mabel and Pacifica’s bed. 

“Oh hey, you made it back!” Mabel chirped, sitting up. “Now the party can finally start…” She yawned, rubbing her eyes.

“I thought you wanted to go to bed?” Pacifica teased good naturedly.

“I do, but I also want to talk to you guys. Sleep can wait a little longer, I guess. It’s not like it’s going anywhere.”

Pacifica hopped onto what had only an hour ago been Dipper’s bed and he sat down next to her, their hands intertwining. Then most abruptly, Mabel shot out of her bed and ran across the room and tackled both of them in a hug, causing all three of them to fall back on the mattress. 

“I missed you guys so much!” Mabel declared loudly, squeezing both of them uncomfortably tight.

“We missed you too.” Her brother laughed, his voice a little strangled. 

Finally Mabel let go and stood, allowing the pair to sit upright on the bed once more. 

“I still can’t believe how tall you’ve gotten, Dip.” The brunette clucked, placing her hands on her hips. “You’re giving Stan and Ford a run for their money. Do you think you’ll end up taller than them?”

The boy shrugged easily. “I dunno to be honest. But I know I can rest my elbow on top of Paz’s head.” He grinned, doing just that.

“Hey!” His girlfriend cried, giving him a playful shove. “I’m short, we all get it.” 

Mabel chuckled, absolutely beaming watching the couple. “Man you guys are just adorable together. So how’d you become a thing?”

Her twin smiled down at his significant other with admiration in his features. “She drove me home from school in the rain once and after that we just kinda started hanging out.” 

“And then I cried in his arms after my parents got divorced and moved away and fell for him then.” Pacifica added, her cheeks turning pink.

“...Oh Paz, I’m so sorry! That sounds like it was the worst.”

She flipped her hair and scoffed. “Believe me, it was. But hey, I never have to worry about them again because now I live here with all you guys, my real family.” 

“Aw, that’s just the cutest thing I’ve ever heard!” Mabel gushed, limping over to give Pacifica a hug.

The petite girl returned the embrace but when they broke apart, she asked, “Mabel, are you limping?”

The girl’s face fell as memories of fighting the demoness Bill had sent after her came to her mind and she swallowed nervously. “Oh, um, yeah I am. B-but it’s okay.” She said, trying to brush it aside as she sat back down on her bed and hugged a stuffed hippo.

“What happened?” Dipper prodded innocently.

Damnit. Mabel thought. 

She began uneasily, “...Um, well Bill, who’s this crazy demon, Paz,” Mabel clarified for her, assuming she had no knowledge of him, “sent this other demon chick to capture me so she could take me back to his dimension and use me as blackmail against Grunkle Ford. Because they have a history…” She trailed off, bringing her brows together and rubbing her chin. “Actually, how much do you guys know about Bill?” She asked. “This will make the story so much easier if I know what you know.”

Dipper and Pacifica exchanged an anxious glance before gazing at Mabel with concerned eyes. 

Mabel cringed. “Oof. So more than I thought you did, huh?”

Pacifica shifted her weight on the bed, making the mattress squeak as Dipper placed a comforting arm around her. She took in a deep breath, steeling her nerves, and confessed, “Mabel, I made a deal with Bill. I-”

“What?!” The brunette cried, completely flabbergasted as her mouth hung open.

It was Pacifica’s turn to cringe and she nodded, “Yeah, I was tricked. Cipher nearly got through the portal but luckily I came to my senses and realized he wasn’t a good guy and confessed to Dipper and Stan. We had a really long talk about it and managed to fix the damage he convinced me to do to the portal.” 

She took in a shaky breath and Dipper kissed her forehead for support as Mabel listened patiently, “That night, he entered my dream with us together and said he was going to hurt you…” Tears appeared in her eyes and she swallowed. “Because he was angry with us, with me. He said someone was going to come get you and take you to him-” Pacifica cut herself off and a horror filled her eyes as she connected the dots between her story and the portion of Mabel’s story.

“Wait, how long ago was this?” Mabel whispered, her eyes also wide with understanding.

“About a week ago.” Dipper informed, also on the same horrible page as the girls.

Mabel gasped. “That’s… that’s when the demoness came after me and broke my ankle.”

The air was buzzing with anxious realization as the three teenagers sat around in their pajamas in shock, seeing for the first time how their two stories had intersected despite being dimensions away from each other. Dipper abruptly stood and began to pace around the room, reminding Mabel of a miniature Ford. A twang of bittersweet hurt tickled her heart.

“No way!” Dipper breathed. “Oh man! Mabel, we’ve been worried sick over here that Bill was going to hurt you and Ford.”

“Or hurt you with Ford…” Pacifica mumbled, appearing considerably pale. 

Her brother continued, “Now we know that his threat was more than that and he did actually hurt you!” He walked past his girlfriend, saw that she looked like she had seen a ghost, and decided it would be best if he sat back down next to her and she rested her head on his shoulder.

“Is that why you were so overjoyed that I was safe?” Mabel quietly asked Pacifica.

“Yeah. Yeah Mabel, it is. I’m so sorry.” She nodded tearily.

“It’s not your fault.” The brunette girl cooed. “It’s Bill’s.”

Pacifica straightened herself up to a more dignified position. “I know.” She said solemnly. 

“Good.” The other girl dictated sincerely. “I don’t blame you, either. Dipper and Ford were tricked too and I love them both to pieces still.”

“Thank you, Mabel.” The blonde smiled. 

“Everything is okay now because we never have to worry about Bill again because we’re here now, with our family.” Mabel quipped.

There was a beat of silence, warmer and more content this time with the three of them smiling joyously, basking in the light of their loved ones before Dipper ended it. “So back to what you were saying earlier, what happened after you got your ankle broken?”

Oh. Right. The brunette girl thought. She wasn’t exactly looking forward to telling this tale but she knew Dipper and Pacifica had a right to know. They had just told her about their bad encounter with Bill so now it was her turn.

“Yeah so, I stabbed that crazy owl demon bitch while she flew away with me and she dropped me and I broke my ankle. Then she chased us through the city and stabbed Ford but we escaped by the skin of our teeth because…”

The couple listened intently, inputting their own exclamations of fright or comment of concern where appropriate as Mabel told her story to other living souls for the first time.

“...but then it turned into a fight. He said he didn’t want to listen to me because he was so close to defeating Bill. Which in retrospect, I guess is a fair point on his part. But in the moment, I could only think about the parallel Stan and Ford and how well they got along and I wanted that for our Ford, too.”

Mabel sighed and ranted, “We got into a yelling match and a lot of mean and frankly hurtful things were thrown around from both of us. I knew he knew he was wrong but I was just so angry I couldn’t tell him that calmly. In the end, he basically told me he wished we had never met and he left me on my own in Dimension 52 with this nice oracle lady. Then Bill came and Ford saved me but we’re still not on the best terms.”

She frowned as she settled back down into bed and pulled the covers over herself. With her head on her pillow and her eyes shut, she muttered gloomily, “That’s pretty much it. The portal brought us back only minutes after that.” 

The mattress across from her squeaked and a second later, she felt the weight of someone sitting next to her and she opened her eyes to find Dipper examining her with his face thick with concern. 

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked gently, hiding the anger he felt for Ford deep within so as to not tip her off to how he was feeling.

“No.” She dictated dejectedly. “I’m sad.” 

“I’m sorry Ford was a jerk to you. Do you want me to talk to him about it?” He inquired.

“No bro-bro. I can handle it. I’ve handled him for a while, it’s ok. It was nice to talk about it, that’s all I needed.” 

“We’re here if you need anything.” Pacifica’s voice came from across the room.

“I know. Same goes for you guys.” She mumbled, closing her eyes once more and cozying up further under her blankets and dozens of stuffed animals surrounding her like an army.

“Alright, Mabel.” Dipper said quietly, standing and turning out the lantern light and casting the room in shadow. 

“Night Dipper, night Mabel.” Pacifica yawned as her head hit the pillow.

“Goodnight Paz, goodnight Mabel.” Dipper echoed, getting into his sleeping bag. 

Mabel didn’t respond with words but with a snore, having fallen asleep the moment she shut her eyes.

Overhead clouds parted and the moon of Dimension 46;/ sent a few silver beams into the attic bedroom through the triangular window as a peaceful hush fell around the house. The shack itself seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, content with the state of its residents. Because for the first time in decades, the Pines family was reunited.

Chapter Text

It was close to midnight when everybody finally got settled down in their new beds. Pacifica drifted off on Dipper’s side of the room in the attic while Mabel quickly drifted off in her bed like nothing had even changed and Dipper got cozy in his sleeping bag. As Dipper laid down in his bedding that night, he knew sleep wouldn’t come. He had no idea why he was even trying to rest, his mind was reeling with the tornado of emotions he had experienced that night. The anticipation of whether or not Mabel and Ford would come through the portal, then the whiplash he received when they actually did, combined with the harrowing tales of survival his sister had spilled to him, kept him awake. So with a groan, he got himself out of bed and snuck through the quiet house and into the kitchen. Sitting at the table, he opened the curtains and gazed out into the star filled, twinkling sky and hoped his restlessness would be absorbed by the moon’s rays.

Stanford Pines couldn’t sleep. He stared endlessly up at the aged, worn ceiling from the red couch of his old room, with something in the back of his mind wound up and anxious about the fact that he wasn’t sleeping with Mabel in sight. Coming back home had been such a bittersweet experience for him so far. He was delighted that Mabel seemed to fit right back in with everyone and it brought him some peace about this new chapter in his life. But that was where his happiness ended. There were heaps of uncertainty in his and Mabel’s future. How would he break the news to her parents? Or the rest of the town? He knew he had hurt her greatly and he feared she would never love him the same ever again. Then there was the entire can of worms regarding Stan. He knew they had a lot to work through and it terrified him. The thought of them having yet another falling out while they tried to fix their problems made him anxious enough to leap off the couch and start pacing. Once he got started, he couldn’t stop and his room soon felt claustrophobic, with the shadowcast walls inching towards him to crush him. His breathing quickened and deepened and his heart pumped faster and harder and he took off up the stairs as stealthily as an owl in flight for fresh air. 

Goosebumps raised on his bare arms, wearing only his pants, socks, and tshirt, when he entered the kitchen and he instinctively knew there was someone else there with him in the dark. His eyes were drawn to the dark silhouette against the parted window and he recognized the shadow as Dipper. He was staring quite intensely up at the waning moon, his chin propped up against his hand. 

“Dipper.” Ford said softly, nearly scaring the boy out of his seat and sending him flailing.

The young man clutched his heart and wheeled around to look at Ford. “Grunkle Ford, you just scared me half to death!” He loudly whispered. 

“Sorry my boy,” he chuckled softly and headed towards the light switch, “are you enjoying yourself sitting here alone in the dark?” 

“Uh, no you can turn the light on.” He smiled sheepishly.

Ford flipped the switch, lighting the lamp that hung above the kitchen table and illuminating the room in a soft orange glow that was gentle on their eyes. Dipper watched Ford move to flip the switch in the dark and once light came into the room, he got a clear view of the man that stood across from him. Only in his t-shirt, Dipper now saw that Ford was very physically fit, especially for his age. But what actually got his attention was Ford’s arms. Every square inch of them was covered in either tattoos, scarring, or even both in some places. A shooting star tattoo took up the whole left side of his neck, while another scar, perhaps some sort of claw mark, poked out of the collar of his shirt. Dipper had never seen anybody as thoroughly scarred and inked up as his great-uncle before and he realized a few seconds too late that he was staring. Dipper winced and rubbed the back of his neck with embarrassment as he tore his eyes away from Ford, the older man taking a seat across from him. 

“Aw man, I was totally staring at you.”

Ford chuckled softly. “No, it’s okay. They’re different, I know.”

“Sorry, it’s just, they’re kinda cool looking.” The teen complimented unconfidently.

“Yes, they are.” Ford replied softly, smiling fondly. “This one’s my favorite.” He whispered pointing to the shooting star tattoo on his neck.

“Mabel,” Dipper dictated, recognizing the symbolism behind it, “that’s so sweet.” 

“She thought so too.” He chuckled quietly. “She was so happy she cried when she first saw it.”

Dipper returned the easy laugh. “Yep, that sounds like Mabel.”

There was a moment of silence between them, which was broken by Ford. “So I take it you’re also unable to sleep?”

“No, I’m just a vampire.” The boy deadpanned.

“Really?” Ford questioned.

“No, not really. Yeah you’re right, I can’t sleep.” Dipper smiled.

Ford grinned kindly. “Well now I’m disappointed you’re not actually a vampire.” 

They shared a quiet laugh, careful not to wake any others who may be sleeping. Then Dipper’s face fell and he looked to his feet before his expression hardened and his gaze snapped back to Ford. 

“I talked to Mabel,” he started with a bit of a bite in his voice, “she told me about your fight and what happened in Dimension 52.” He huffed in frustration and shook his head. “Man, why? Why’d you do it? You left her and now she’s heartbroken.”

The older man hung his head and nodded slowly, a melancholy yet humble expression appearing on his face. When he locked eyes with Dipper again, they were pained and gentle. “My own damn ego hurt her terribly. I told her it was for her own safety that I was leaving her in Dimension 52, but in reality, I couldn’t stand to share the glory of defeating Cipher with her. I thought her to be childish when in reality, I was the one who was immature.”

He cleared his throat and took in a long breath, continuing, “But there was also shame. My shame regarding my long history of being a subpar family member and friend to those around me. When your sister pointed this out during our fight, I dug my heels in and lashed out at her rather than looking within myself because that would have been more painful. Those deep tendrils of distrust Bill had planted in me so long ago were still taking hold of me. But make no mistake my boy, I’m working now to uproot them.” 

Dipper nodded in understanding and only hummed in response, thinking back on his great-uncle’s words. Now hearing both sides of the story, he came to the conclusion that both parties had regrets and were sorry and were now working to come back together again. So he would give Ford the grace he needed to work things out with his sister and decided not to hold anything against him. 

“I’m sorry for the hurt I’ve caused her and I apologize for any pain I may have given you.” Ford added before falling silent once more.

“Thanks,” The boy dictated, “I’m sorry for what you went through with Bill.”

“Thank you, Dipper.” The older man said sincerely.

“And uh, well thank you for taking care of Mabel. I haven’t been there for her for so long and she’s been through so much. But she seems really well adjusted, all things considered.”

Ford smiled somewhat and responded, “Likewise, Dipper. You seem like a great young man considering all you’ve endured. I’m looking forward to getting to know you better.”

Dipper’s face brightened and he gave his great uncle a grin. “Thank you, Great Uncle Ford… You know, when I was younger, you were like my idol. I poured over your journals endlessly. But now as I’ve gotten older I realize that you always have been just a man. One who made lots of mistakes, at that…” He cleared his throat embarrassedly and said, “Anyways, I-I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’d like to get to know you too. The real you.”

The old man’s smile widened for a moment before diminishing and he slowly shook his head. “I’m not the same man I was when I wrote those journals. I’ve changed for the better.”

“I believe you.” Dipper said kindly.

Ford nodded in response and an easy silence fell between them. The boy went back to gazing out the window as Ford’s head began to fill with thoughts about the future and his relationships again and the urge to pace them all away came to him. Eventually, he stood and the soft sound of the man pushing out his chair broke Dipper away from the window and he looked at his great-uncle quizzically.

With his gaze on the front door, Stanford told him, “I’m headed outside, I need to think.”

“Ok, I’ll just be here probably.” Dipper whispered as Ford left the kitchen.

Ford grasped the handle to the front door with anxious energy, ready to walk back and forth on the porch until he was too exhausted to continue. He stepped out onto the sun faded boards illuminated with silver moonlight and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Stan sitting at the porch’s edge with a lit cigar between his fingers.

“Stan… What are you doing out here?” He asked, a bit taken aback.

“Same as you, gettin’ some air I’m assuming.” Stan deadpanned and patted the empty space on the boards next to him.

Ford hadn’t been expecting to run into Dipper and definitely not Stan so late at night but he reluctantly obliged and sat next to his brother on the porch, letting his feet dangle over the edge and opting to sway them back and forth if he couldn't pace. In a perfect world, he would have been alone all this time with just his head but he didn’t live in a flawless universe so it appeared that he was going to have to socialize past midnight. The nervousness swirling in his gut only increased now that he was with Stan and his mind could only think about the troubles of their past.

“You still smoke?” Ford questioned, somewhat perplexed with a twinge of disappointment in his voice.

“Not since the niblings first came to town. But my nerves… I needed one tonight.” His twin huffed, smoke leaking from his mouth as he spoke.

“Understandable.” The other man shrugged.

Stan turned his head to him with a smirk. “What, no snide remarks on how my habit’s gonna be the death of me or that I haven’t kicked it yet?”

Ford rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “Well, nicotine is highly addictive and relapse is common when trying to curb a habit… But I figured now wasn’t the time to bring such a thing up. Even if it will be the death of you.”

“Hmm, so Mabel has rubbed off on you.” Stan chuckled quietly. He added, “And you on her. Damn, she’s grown up so much.” There was a beat of silence as Stan took a drag of his cigarette and he continued, “I dunno why, but part of me expected the same tiny, bright eyed tween girl to come out on the other side like nothing in the world had changed. But I saw her come through and I saw the reluctant hardness in her eyes and it broke my old man heart. I can’t help but wonder, what happened to you two out there?”

A wince appeared on Ford’s face before he could even hide it and he hid his hands behind his back and looked away with a huff. What would Stan think of him if he were to learn the tribulations Mabel had gone through with him? He’d probably think him to be a poor caretaker for starters.

He uncertainly began slowly, as if trying to find the right words, “Things… were often rough for us, Stan. In the time I spent in the Multiverse before Mabel’s arrival, I built a formidable weapon capable of destroying Bill Cipher. Now, building a demon killing weapon isn’t exactly legal and thus, I became a wanted man in much of the Multiverse. The consequences of my actions only followed Mabel when she came into my care. We were nomads, hopping from one dimension to the other and more often than not sleeping in the wilderness or in the streets. She’s fought enemies and survived hardships no one should.”

With his heart squeezed, Stan couldn’t help but be reminded of his days spent living out of his car. The endless cold nights spent sleeping with one eye open and his knuckle dusters close just in case any of his many enemies had caught up with him came to mind. “Sounds miserable.” He finally said.

Ford nodded and chattered on, “That’s not to say we were without joy, though. There were plenty of happy times and we made the best of things with what we had.” 

Stan hummed in thought, flicking the butt of his cigarette to the damp dirt. “I’m proud of ya, Sixer. Raising a teenager is no easy task, especially in the conditions you described. Mabel’s kept her light so I say you did good.”

The more studious of the twins was surprised, studying his brother’s face for any signs of sarcasm but found none. “Thank you, Stanley.” He whispered, the chill night air tugging at his hair and one of his rare, vulnerable smiles appeared on his face.

“Uh-huh. You’re a good man, Poindexter. Heh, so good I wanted to be by your side your whole life. I guess I just didn’t realize you needed some space. An’ uh, for that I’m sorry.” He admitted quietly with a grimace. There, he said it. The thing that had been on his mind all night worrying him and keeping him out here. He wasn’t sure if he felt better or worse now. Holding his breath, he awaited his brother’s response, the seconds dragging on for hours.

The surprise on Ford’s face didn’t leave and instead, it only grew. “Oh. I- yes, thank you. But Stan, I never should have left you. I see that now.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sharply inhaled, readying himself for the words he was about to say. “I closed the curtains on you when you needed me the most. That was something I never should have done and I let my resentment drag out for decades.”

Stan laughed joylessly. “Hey, and I shoved you through a portal when you needed me the most, so we’re even.” He cleared his throat and resumed,  “I used to tell myself, way back when, it was your fault I was living on my own with nothing but the clothes on my back and the El Diablo for company. I replayed that night pa kicked me to the curb over and over again in my head for years, wishing something could have been different…” Stan folded his arms and his face hardened. “I never apologized, Ford. You came home, understandably pissed that your future had been taken from you and what did I do? I told ya to look on the bright side because now you got to spend the rest of your days with me treasure hunting, the one who sabotaged you in the first place… And even though it was an accident, I don’t blame ya for being angry.”

Stanford stared at his twin and blinked owlishly. “Thank you Stan but, it really was an accident? You breaking my project? I always assumed, ah. Assumed. I never really asked you if it was intentional or not.” He shook his head, displeased with his younger self. All these years and he never got a straight answer out of Stan as to what actually happened that night and always had just supposed it was an intentional act on his brother’s part.

“Well, pa didn’t exactly give me the time to explain myself but I coulda at least said I was sorry.” Stan grunted, shrugging his shoulders and rubbing his arms to warm them against the crisp air. “So consider this my formal apology to ya now. Stanford, I’m sorry I broke your project. Then instead of fessin’ up I hid it from you, ‘cause I didn’t wanna admit I made yet another stupid mistake. You worked real hard on it an’ I threw your opportunity to go to a nice big school away.” Stan exhaled tiredly and avoided Ford’s gaze, his mouth a massive frown. Shame bubbled around in his heart, whispering to him that his brother would never accept his apology nor would he ever forgive him and it was a battle to fight against.

No, Ford does love you. He’s told you that much since he came back. He countered.

Stanford nodded with understanding. “Oh. Thank you, Stanley.” He sighed and stared at the ground before resuming, “I was afraid I would never make a name for myself if I never landed at West Coast Tech. And while you did hurt me, my heart was in the wrong place altogether. It never should have been set solely on becoming well established in the scientific community. I didn’t leave any room for my family, or personal relationships at that. I let it take control of my life and then Bill used it to so easily prey on my insecurities.” Saying those words felt about as pleasant as vomiting acid to Stanford but he knew it had to be done. Nothing would ever get better if he and Stan wouldn’t have this difficult conversation. 

Stan’s frown turned to a grimace. “That triangular bastard. I’m sorry, Stanford. You called for my help in the thick of dealing with that demon and all I wanted to do was rehash our high school fight. Then I started another one and pushed you right into the portal. I-I should’ve known.” He buried his head in his hands.

Ford placed a hand on Stan’s shoulder, anxious and uneasy from their topics of conversation but persisted, “But you came! And-and you couldn’t have known. I was far from my right mind at the time. I-”

Stan cut him off. “And I should’ve seen that.”

Perhaps he can yet prove his worth to me. The line he had written over thirty years ago rang painfully as if there was a large, brass bell in Ford’s head and he huffed it away.

“Honestly Stan, we were two hurt and broken men in a heated situation that turned to violence rather than getting talked through.” Ford groaned, disappointed in himself.

The broken part within Stan cried that he had apologized and hurt enough tonight and wanted him to backpedal and deflect any blame cast at him to spare his shame but he took in a breath and calmed himself. Ford was going through a whole lot of effort to be honest with him and so he should keep doing the same. “But that’s just the thing, I blew off your mental state and exploded when you told me to take your journal and leave.”

“I most likely would have done the same thing if I were in your shoes.” Ford growled, staring out across the moonlit yard and watching the long, silvery grass sway in the wind.

“That doesn’t make it right, Poindexter.” The gruffier of the twins retorted.

“I suppose…” He trailed off. “I guess we’re both to blame for that day I was sucked into the portal then.”

Stanford twisted his fingers in his hands nervously and bit the inside of his lip, steeling himself for what he said next. “I didn’t tell you about Bill because I was ashamed of what fate had befallen me. In my mind there I was, the great Stanford Pines, deceived so obviously by evil you would have seen coming from a mile away. I thought myself better than you and didn’t dare speak of my immense mistake that you would surely criticize me harshly for.” He inhaled sharply, “Ironically, it was Bill’s silver tongue that led me to so strongly believe such malarky in the first place. He isolated me from anyone who had ever cared for me.”

“That must have sucked to realize.” Stan said with a gravelly voice.

“Oh indeed it did, it was terrible. But now I’m immensely grateful for it. Even after I learned of Cipher’s betrayal and though he wasn’t literally in my head anymore, his toxic influence stayed with me. His vile tendrils still lingered, deeply rooted in my mind, keeping me desperately searching within myself for validation in my ego.” Ford said solemnly, his face dark.

Stan hummed in thought, scratching his chin. “Hey, you’re not the only one here who’s gotten messed up by life kicking them in the ass.” Uneasiness rose like bile in his throat and he courageously brushed it aside, his insecurity be damned. “All my life it was always that you were the good twin and the smart twin that was going places, and I was the dumb twin without a bright future. So when you told me you were headed off to college, I guess I secretly resented you for it and I used every bad decision I made after that as a justification to hate myself since y’know, my exact copy would never be such a screw-up.” He scratched the back of his head and rattled on, “So after I lost you to the portal, I got real low. All that negative junk was front and center in my life.”

Not to mention I almost put a gun in my mouth. Stan thought, but said nothing of it. Saying what he had already was painful enough, he didn’t need more of that going around tonight.

“And then when it happened again with Mabel,” Stan kept on, watching a family of Question Quails skitter across the grass, “my self esteem plummeted even further. I worried you hated me.”

“I don’t hate you, Stan. I never hated you.” Ford whispered. “Whoever or whatever it was that put those thoughts in your head is wrong. Dipper and Mabel adore you and your employees, Wendy and Soos, they seem to love you greatly. You spent a long time working to get me back and even longer to retrieve Mabel…” Ford faltered and his brows creased together with displeasure.

He continued with a bit of bite in his voice, “I will tell you this though, Stan. It would have been in everyone’s best interest if you would have waited for the kids to leave for the summer before bringing me back. Your impatience cost Mabel two years of her life. She’s forever changed by the Multiverse and has lost her innocence.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and irritatedly added, “Not to mention, you chose the worst possible timing for me. I literally had Bill Cipher in my crosshairs when that portal opened!”

“What? Hey! I couldn’t wait, I wanted you back from wherever you were stuck!” Stan shot defensively. But then he actually thought on his twin’s words for a couple of seconds and he deflated defeatedly when he concluded that Ford did have a point. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and sighed. “A-and yeah, er, sorry about that.” The man turned to his twin and emphasized, “I just needed you back so badly, Sixer. You gotta understand, it had been thirty years without you and I didn’t think it was right to wait any longer. I guess everything is clearer in retrospect though. So yer right, I shoulda waited.” Stan shrugged.

A slight smirk crossed Ford’s face and he elbowed his brother playfully. “Hang on, did I just hear you tell me that I’m right about something?”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” Stan huffed with a good-natured eye roll.

“No no, I better take a picture to remember this moment.” Ford grinned.

“Alright Poindexter, now you’re just rubbing it in.” Stan grunted, folding his arms.

Despite appearing gruff and nonchalant on the surface, endless hope was blooming in Stan’s chest. He had just shared a happy moment with his twin by his side for the first time in decades. He realized then that things could in fact work out for them to be brothers again and it nearly brought tears to his eyes.

They shared a chuckle that was followed by a moment of silence, one that was broken by Ford. “Hey Stan, what were you even doing at the school that late anyways? When my project broke, I mean.”

“Eh, I couldn’t even tell ya, it was so long ago. I knew I was angry ‘cause I felt like ya were leavin’ me. All I was thinking about was me. How you had wronged me and how I was going to be alone and all that junk.”

“Stan, you wouldn’t have been alone. You would’ve been okay. Sure, we would have been apart for some time but you knew I would have visited over the summer and you were free to go visit me at any time.”

“Yeah, but it didn’t feel that way.” Stan retorted. “I thought I was gettin’ left behind, Sixer. That you were moving on without me.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” Ford inquired with hurt in his voice. A bitter part of him told him this was all Stan’s fault for not communicating but he stamped it down and waited for his twin’s response.

“Because you wouldn’t have listened. I saw the way you began to drift away from me. You were always busy with honors this and valedictorian that and there was increasingly less room for me in your life. I just wanted to be a part of it… An’ I’m sorry if I was overbearing.”

“You were.” Ford frowned and leaned forward and propped his chin up on his palm, thinking. He reluctantly decided that Stan was correct, he wasn’t sure he would have listened to his twin’s concerns about him going to college. “But you’re right, I don’t have great faith that I would have heeded your words. I was young and stupid.”

“But that all hardly matters now though, yeah? That was so long ago an’ now you’re here so maybe we can leave it behind.”

Ford smiled brightly at his brother. “I think I would like that, yes.”

The light in Ford’s smile was drowned out by the sheer radiance of Stan’s ear-to-ear grin. “Ya really mean it?”

“Of course I do.” He responded sincerely.

A comfortable silence fell between them and the more studious of the brothers took the time to gaze up at the stars. Countless night skies had blessed his vision throughout his lifetime but the familiarity of the celestial patterns with the Milky Way stretching across this particular black canvas was the most beautiful of all to him, even if it was without rings or supernovas or many, multicolored moons. He could point out all thirty six constellations of the northern hemisphere and knew them by heart and that knowledge was beautiful to him.

“...Your tats are, um, interesting, by the way.” Stan grunted, poking his twin’s arm.

“You can just say you hate them, Stan.” Ford muttered, his eyes returning to the black forest.

The other man raised his arms disarmingly. “No, no, I don’t hate them, honest. They suit you, they’re just something I never expected out of my goody-two-shoes nerdy bro. You’ve changed.”

Ford raised a brow testingly. “A good change I hope?”

Stan laughed quietly. “Well, I dunno yet. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Indeed.” 

“Man, I just can’t believe that you’re actually here.” Stan grinned.

The other brother sighed, his anxieties of the future reigniting, and said, “I’m having a hard time believing I’m back. I’ve spent more of my life in the Multiverse than I have on Earth.”

Stan scratched his chin. “Huh, that’s true. Must be nice to be back then.”

Ford didn’t respond immediately. While he felt that Stan’s words were true, they weren’t in their entirety. It was nice to be back and see the stars and his old lab, despite the great changes made to it. He missed the tall redwood trees and the sleepy town vibe of Gravity Falls combined with the bustling Weirdness energy the surrounding area radiated. But it was also so strange being where he was, sitting on his porch next to his brother after being in another dimension fighting Bill Cipher less than twelve hours ago. 

“...Right?” Stan added hesitantly when his twin said nothing but stared off into space instead.

“Hm? Oh yes, it is nice to be back. Thank you.” Ford replied distractedly.

“What’s on your mind, Ford?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” He lied. “It’s just surreal being here again. It’s so drastically different yet intimately familiar at the same time.”

He couldn’t be telling Stan that he felt uncertain of his and Mabel’s future or that he wasn’t sure if he saw himself ever being able to integrate into the family effectively. For so much of his life he had been a loner who told himself his relationships only hindered his path to greatness. While he had now seen the error of such ways of thinking, he was uncertain if his habitual hermiting could be broken. Not to mention, he needed the people he had met that night at dinner to accept him and welcome him to the family despite his mistakes. He also felt immensely divorced from his earthly home world but that was a lesser problem as he told himself he just needed time to adjust. But he need not worry Stan with such things, he had been through enough already.

“Why’d you come out here then? To clear your head?” Stan questioned.

“Yes, I suppose that’s correct.” Then he added, “What were you doing here?”

“I dunno, sleep just wouldn’t come to me.” Stan fibbed with a shrug.

In reality, he worried about his brother and how their relationship would play out from that point forward. The shameful part of him constantly muttered in his ear that he was going to screw something up again with his twin and Ford would kick him out and leave him for good since the Mystery Shack legally belonged to him. But how could he possibly tell his brother that he was still fretting over his own shame and fear of humiliation? He decided it would be best not to worry Ford over this, it was something he could deal with on his own.

“Ah. So that makes three of us.” Ford mumbled.

“Three? What?”

Ford chuckled softly. “I ran into Dipper in the kitchen on the way out. Had a chat with him. You’ve done much better as a parent than I ever thought you capable of, judging by him.”

“Thanks?” 

“You’re welcome.” He smirked.

Stan stood with aching joints and cracked his back. “That kid’s got school tomorrow. I gotta go drag him into bed. You coming?”

School. That reminded him, was he going to re-enroll Mabel in high school? In his opinion, he had taught her more in the time she spent with him than public school ever could. But he knew for certain that she would want to go back to being a normal teenager as soon as possible and had always dreamed of going to high school. But how could that be? She had been missing for over two years and there was no way she could simply waltz right back into the world. People would ask questions and get nosy about things they could never truthfully answer. That would simply put the portal at risk. Then what about him? How could he show his face in public with Stan? His twin had recounted his tale on how he had pulled off getting his portal up and running again earlier that evening in the gift shop, including how he had faked his own death. Stanley Pines no longer existed and it could raise the eyebrows of anyone seeing them together.

“Sixer?” 

Ford was drawn out of his head by the sound of Stan calling him and he found himself staring blankly at his brother. “Hm?”

Stan snorted. “Geez you’re a space cadet tonight; get your brain back on earth. So are you coming inside or not?”

The other man sighed. “Not yet, Stan.”

With a mutter, Stan replied from the doorway, “Okay well, don’t be up all night… Goodnight.”

As Ford stood and began his pacing, he echoed, “Goodnight Stanley.”

Chapter Text

“C’mon you two, up and at it, it’s school time.” Stan’s gruff voice declared from the doorway of the attic bedroom, waking Dipper and Pacifica from their sleep as the first of the sun’s rays peeked through the triangular window.

Dipper blinked the sleep from his eyes as his disheveled hair stuck out at odd angles and he sat up out of his sleeping bag. “Wha-?” He yawned.

“Can’t we spend the day with Mabel instead?” Pacifica countered blearily while stretching out her back as she reached her arms up to the heavens.

The old man’s gaze turned to his great-niece, who was snoring away like a chainsaw and looking like she was getting the best sleep of her life. “Let the girl rest. You can’t spend the day with her if she’s gonna sleep it away anyways. Besides, you two have already missed three days of school this week.” Stan responded.

Dipper gave his sister a small frown, he had assumed Stan was going to let them take the entire week off considering the circumstances of their life at the moment but apparently he had thought wrong. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try and argue.

“But you skipped way more high school than we ever have Gru-” The boy started.

Stan cut him off, folding his arms. “Hey, hey! Do as I say, not as I did. Now get your butt dressed, you’re going.”

From her bed, Mabel shifted and rolled over, smiling blissfully as she squeezed a stuffed tiger. She looked so cozy in her nest of stuffed toys and blankets and Dipper was jealous of her for only a moment before remembering how mature and hardened she had come across the night before and a sadness swelled in his chest. This must have been the safest and most comfortable she had felt in a long time, he realized, and suddenly he was ok to just let her rest. 

Pacifica hopped out of bed and squeezed his shoulder. “Get outta here, I gotta change. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” She smiled tiredly.

“Right, right.” He nodded and stepped out and headed off towards the parlor where he now kept his clothes.

Once she had dressed, Pacifica headed down to the kitchen where Stan was at the stove busily cooking up stan-cakes and eggs while she poured herself a cup of tea and sat at the table. Her face creased slightly with anxious thought as she scribbled down the solution to the last question on her algebra homework that had been due the day before. Now fully dressed, the teen boy sat next to her and watched her do her homework, realizing with a frown that his english essay on the themes present in The Great Gatsby was not only half finished, but now overdue. 

The second he was in the seat next to her, Pacifica’s head snapped up to meet his gaze and she said to him apprehensively, “Dipper, I didn’t have any dreams last night. There was no Bill, no nothing. Mabel and Ford are back a-and that should’ve made him furious, right? So why did I sleep peacefully?”

“Good question.” Stan butt in, putting two plates of stan-cakes and eggs in front of them. “Maybe he’s given up his chase?”

Dipper drew his fingertips together. “That’s unlikely, I’d say. But probably a good thing to ask Great Uncle Ford.” 

Pacifica’s worried filled eyes met Stan’s. “Stan, could you talk to Ford about it please?”

“Yeah, I’ll ask him later. Now eat quickly or you’re gonna be late.” The man grunted.

His answer satisfied the young couple because they obeyed and scarfed down their meals and put on their jackets and ran out the door with Stan to the El Diablo.

“Can I drive us to school?” Dipper asked as they approached the vehicle.

“In early morning traffic? Nu-huh, no way.” Stan countered, getting in the driver’s seat.

“C’mon Stan, only like a hundred people live here anyways.” Dipper mumbled with an eye roll while Pacifica laughed.

“Alright, alright, what if I take ya driving sometime next week?” The old man offered.

“Fine, I guess that works.” The teen boy noted.

“Great.” Stan agreed and peeled it out of the gravel parking lot.

It was nearly eleven in the morning when Mabel’s eyelids finally fluttered open in the sunbathed, attic bedroom. Streaks of sunlight lit up the dusty air and landed on the floorboards, rendering them warm and cozy enough for a cat to curl up and take a nap on. She untangled herself from her burrito of blankets and stuffed toys and stretched like a feline, feeling refreshed as if she had gotten the best sleep of her life. Instinctively, she grabbed her knife off her nightstand and sheathed it before clasping her cloak around herself and pulled her boots over her feet, looking around for her backpack. Then she paused when she realized what she was doing and a strange surge of emotions shot through her.

She didn’t need to do this anymore, the thought buzzed in her head, because she was safe. There were no more dangers possibly lurking around every corner so there was no need to keep her blade and bells close and her cloak tightly around her and her boots near. Mabel sat to the floor, feeling the grainy boards beneath her palms and breathed in the nostalgic bedroom air as she slowly gazed around the room, at her safe haven, and felt completely free. A grin tugged at her lips as she kicked off her boots but her hands hesitated at the clasp of her cloak. It, just like her belt that carried her knife, was so familiar to her that she wasn’t sure if she was ready to part with either of them just yet. So with a smile radiating sunshine, she skipped out of the room and into the bathroom to take a long, steamy shower with hot, running water for the first time in days.

The shower was heavenly. What was even better was when she blow dried her short hair and got to use Pacifica’s straightening iron to actually style it. She was like a queen on earth running her fingers through her silky hair and despite wearing the same dirty clothes she had slept in, she felt like a million bucks as she applied eyeshadow and mascara for the first time in over twenty four months. Cloak around her shoulders and knife in its sheath, she bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen to find Ford reading the paper at the table, appearing quite sleep deprived judging by the bags he had under his eyes. A half eaten plate of stan-cakes and eggs sat next to him and the girl’s mouth watered at the sight of them. He was wearing a light brown trench coat with a red sweater and black jeans but still held onto the same old perpetually muddy boots that he wore everywhere. 

“Where’s Dipper and Pacifica?” Mabel asked, not bothering to look at him as she headed straight for the stove to dish up a large helping of cold breakfast food.

“School.” Ford replied.

Her great-uncle’s response hit her brain hard and her jaw dropped. She had forgotten all about going to school and suddenly she was very excited to go back because that meant she would get to go to the prom and have a high school sweetheart just like she had always dreamed about. Dipper and Pacifica must have been in their sophomore year so that would mean she was too. That meant she still had two and a half years of high school she would get to experience!

“Oh! That’s right, I can’t wait to go back myself if you can believe it. So where’d you get those clothes?” Mabel asked from the stove. 

“Uh, Stan saved a majority of my old clothes actually.” He said evenly, taking a sip of his coffee and relishing it. He had missed earth coffee to a great degree and was incredibly happy to have it back. But something squirmed uncomfortably in the back of his mind at Mabel’s eagerness to attend school and he didn’t know how to tell her that most likely wouldn’t be an option.

She sat opposite to him at the table and poured a mountain of syrup over everything on her plate. “That’s nice. None of my old clothes fit me.” She lamented, shoveling a forkful of stan-cake into her mouth.

“We’ll have to go shopping then.” He replied simply, folding up the newspaper and placing it on the table. His eyes flickered to her nervously and he hid his hands in the pockets of his trench coat before he asked, “So, how are you?”

“In general? Great. With you? …Fine, I guess.” She shrugged, not meeting his eyes.

Ford’s mouth became a thin line. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” 

She finished the rest of her meal in silence, partly because she didn’t really feel like talking to Ford about their argument and partly because she was famished. Once her plate had been cleared, she stood and took both her and her great-uncle’s plate over to the sink and began to do the dishes from that morning. Despite her best efforts however, her mind still seemed to linger on the current state of their relationship and was stubbornly refusing to leave her head. Not that much later, she heard Ford’s footfalls approach behind her and he took a dried mug she had washed from the dish rack and went to put it away.

“...What were you talking to Grunkle Stan about last night?” Mabel spoke up, making an effort to clear the awkward silence as she scrubbed an egg laden pan.

Stanford opened a cupboard to put the mug away in and blinked owlishly when he found plates there instead. Apparently the kitchen had been reorganized at one point in the last thirty two years. As he opened another cupboard, he sighed, “We talked about Bill, my history with him and the circumstances in which he and the others got the portal on.”

“Oh, okay.” She mumbled, laying the pan on the dish rack beside the sink to dry before scrubbing a fork. 

Her mind drifted to her conversation with Dipper and Pacifica the night before and how the blonde had regretfully told her the tale of how Cipher had nearly fooled her into ending the world. 

“So you know about Pacifica then?” Mabel went on, raising a brow defensively, as if she expected him to show anger towards her friend that was apparently living with them now. It didn’t bother her and in fact, she was overjoyed to have a new roommate but had just been surprised by Pacifica’s story.

Her guardian nodded sagely as he placed the mug back in the correct place. “Yes, I feel for the poor girl. I suppose we can relate to one another now on a terrible level and lift each other up in that regard.”

This time, Mabel blinked, clearly taken aback as she washed a spatula. She hadn’t been expecting that. “Oh… Well that’s nice in a way, I guess. So you don’t hate her?”

Ford frowned at her like a sad animal, clearly hurt by her opinion of him, but then understanding came to his eyes and he turned towards the dry pan and took it in his hands. “No, I don’t. I couldn’t. How could I, being in her position at one point in my own life?”

The girl seemed to like that answer because she nodded and said nothing more but frowned. Things still weren’t completely okay between them and it hung in the air like a sticky fog that coated her tongue and clung to her skin. It wasn’t a nice feeling by any means, but it was there and they would have to deal with it until it eventually evaporated in the sunshine, however long that may take. She just wished her bad feelings would go away now because she was starting to get sick of them.

“Is everything okay between you two?” Stan suddenly asked as he walked into the kitchen in his Mr. Mystery outfit and grabbed a soda from the fridge.

“No.” Mabel muttered.

“Yes.” Ford sighed at the same time as her.

Stan drew his brows together, expecting more of an explanation. “What.”

Ford sighed. “We’re fine, Stanley. It’s nothing that concerns you.”

“Yes it is.” Mabel countered quickly.

“No, it’s not.” Ford responded a bit more forcefully. 

“Yes, it-”

“ Mabel. ” Ford cut her off sharply and the girl silenced herself. Then he looked at Stan with an uneasy feeling squirming around in his gut and admitted, “I… do suppose Mabel is correct, in a way.”

Stan appeared confused. “Oookay, it’s just that you two keep looking at each other like a couple of kicked puppies. Wanted to know if you were alright.” 

What Stan had said wasn’t all that profound on its own but it hit Ford like a well placed gut punch. Stan had wanted to know if he was okay. Stanley, the man who was so unfamiliar to him after so long apart he was still getting used to being happy calling him his brother. It made a fresh wave of sorrow and distress wash over him and suddenly he wasn’t even sure he deserved to be given the chance to call Stan his brother again.

Ford sighed and opened his mouth to spill his guts before Mabel chirped up first, “Ford and I just got into a fight before you brought us back, that’s all. We’re working through it.” She raised her brows at her sweater wearing counterpart as if to ask if he’d had a serious conversation with his twin yet.

The studious man understood her wordless question and told her, “I spoke to him about it last night, Mabel. But frankly, I still believe that’s none of your business.” 

The girl’s smile turned upside down and she looked away. “Oh ok, sorry.” She muttered, placing the last dish on the drying rack and walked out of the room with her head hung.

“Mabel…” Ford sighed, going off after her.

He found her at the table in the living room, peering at her own sad reflection in her cracked ceramic dagger. The very one she had discovered in the sandy ruins of an ancient Axolotl temple and used to defend herself from the demoness Ysithyl and Bill Cipher himself, now damaged and only halfway repaired. Her cloak hung around her shoulders droopily, only adding to her depressed demeanor.

“You look very nice, by the way. I should have mentioned that earlier.” Ford smiled slightly as he took a seat across from her.

“I smell a lot better too.” The girl deadpanned, tracing the runes on her blade. It flickered, momentarily washing the room in pink light before going out.

Stan walked into the room and stood between them at the wooden table’s edge. “What’s goin’ on, pumpkin?” He inquired of Mabel.

The girl in question leaned forward and folded her arms on top of the table and rested her chin atop them while she stared gloomily at Ford. “Well, I’m sorry for what I said in the kitchen, Grunkle Ford. And well, I talked to Dipper and Pacifica about this last night and I’m sorry I stressed you out so much during our fight. That wasn’t the time to bring it up and I was putting myself in your personal business when I should have let you focus on Bill. I’m sorry, can you forgive me?”

The trench coat wearing man reached out across the table and rested his hand on Mabel’s arm and gazed at her softly. “That’s alright, my dear. I forgive you.”

The teen girl was greatly comforted by her Grunkle’s forgiveness and her face brightened and she grinned at him, “Thank you, Grunkle Ford.” She chirped and hopped out of her chair.

“Wait, Mabel. Where are you going?” Ford called.

“To get my old knitting stuff, duh! I gotta make me some sweaters to wear that aren’t black now. I can’t go into town looking like this!” She grinned, gesturing to her mostly dark outfit and ran off towards the attic.

“Just come back after you’ve fetched what you need. I need to speak with you further.” Stanford cried as she left the room.

“Okay!” Mabel yelled from somewhere upstairs.

Stan sat in the seat Mabel had just made vacant and glanced at his twin with concern. “Can she go into town at all? Everyone here thinks she disappeared into the forest and got eaten by a bear or something.”

Ford groaned. “That’s precisely what I was going to discuss with her.” 

“What do we tell her parents?” Stan worried.

Ford gestured vaguely with his arms. “I have no idea.”

A second later, pounding footsteps raced down the stairs and Mabel reappeared in the living room, holding a large box stuffed full to the point of practically bursting with yarn in every color of the rainbow, with an assortment of different kinds of knitting needles sticking out. She dropped the dusty box on the floor at her Grunkles’ feet and sat down cross legged in front of them before picking up a royal blue yarn ball.

“I’m making a Multiverse sweater first to celebrate! It’s gonna be blue with stars and a purple and pink galaxy in the middle.” The girl cheered, bursting with excitement as her fingers began to fly, expertly resuming the art of knitting like no time had ever passed. 

“Ya still got it.” Stan commented, watching his great-niece knit.

“Yeah I do! So… What did you want to tell me, Grunkle Ford?” She probed.

Ford cleared his throat, the way he did when he had something important to say and it got Mabel to pause her activity and stare up at him apprehensively. She knew he was about to say something big.

“Is something wrong?” She guessed with anxiety simmering in her gut.

“Technically speaking, nothing’s wrong. At least not yet.” Ford supplied.

“What do you mean?” Mabel inquired.

Ford sighed and informed her, “Well Mabel, what I mean is, you can’t go to school.”

“What?” The girl exclaimed and dropped her knitting needles. 

“Real subtle there, Sixer.” Stan shot.

“Shut up, Stanley.” Ford retorted.

Mabel looked back and forth between her grunkles, looking for an answer in their faces. “But-but why not?” She cried.

“Mabel listen,” Ford began, suddenly wishing he could go lay down and sleep somewhere undisturbed and dark and quiet, “you’ve been a missing person for over two years now. If we tried to enroll you in school, think of the uproar that would happen in the news. People would demand to know your story and they would ask questions we simply cannot answer truthfully.”

The girl looked incredibly upset, her mouth hanging open in disbelief and she looked to Stan to back her up. “Grunkle Stan, help me out here.”

Stan inhaled sharply and gave her an apologetic look. “You made state-wide news when you went missing, kiddo. People were puttin’ up posters for ya up in Portland and as far south as San Francisco. The hard truth here is Sixer has a point.”

“Wha- Stan! You can’t side with him.” Mabel lamented, gesturing to Stanford.

Ford continued gently, “Not to mention, you’ve missed over two years of school and as far as I’m aware, traveling the Multiverse doesn’t count as class credit. You would be two years behind your brother and Pacifica even though I’ve taught you far more than they know now.” He shrugged and folded his hands in his lap. “School would be mentally unstimulating to you, spending your time with thirteen year olds on subject matters I’ve taught to you at a university level.”

Defeatedly, the teen picked up her needles and began knitting angrily once more. “It’s not about learning Ford, it’s about the socialization.” She scowled at the floor, trying to set the carpet aflame with her eyes alone. “But you’re right,” she gritted out, trying not to cry, “I am behind in school according to the government. That’s so stupid.” She ended with a frustrated huff.

It felt like her dream was being snatched away from her now that it was finally within arms reach. The thought of being a regular kid in school with regular friends and Dipper by her side kept her going during hard times in the Multiverse, especially when she was feeling homesick. More than once, she let her daydreams of being in school allow her to drift off to sleep quietly instead of crying herself there. It was a little beacon of hope that kept her bubbly and positive when nothing else could. Now it was gone.

Grunkle Ford gave her an empathetic look while Stan winced at her and said softly, “Hey, I’m sorry ya can’t go to school. But on the bright side, you get to spend more time with me and Ford here at the shack.”

“It’s not fair! But life isn’t fair. Ugh, it’s stupid.” Mabel grimaced, wiping her nose on her sleeve and sniffing. Then her face shifted to a look of questioning and she peered at her grunkles once more and asked, “Then how am I supposed to graduate or go to college? What do I do, get a GED?”

“That’s exactly what I had in mind.” Ford nodded. “But we can worry more about that later. Right now, we also need to figure out how to explain to the townspeople that you and I have suddenly reappeared out of seemingly thin air.”

Mabel frowned moodily because she knew her grunkle was right. Crying about school wouldn’t fix anything and there were actually more pressing matters to be dealt with. So she shelved her downcast thoughts on her school situation and instead asked with a shaky voice, “Well do you even have to explain yourself? I mean, I really don’t think anybody here will bat an eye if we tell them Stan’s twin decided to come live with him. Now, I’m a different story, I get that.” She finished as her knitting needles clacked together.

“She does have a point, Poindexter.” Stan affirmed, gesturing towards her. “I doubt anybody will really be that bothered if we tell ‘em you’re my twin and I just don’t talk about you much.”

Ford rested his elbows on his knees and scratched his chin in thought. “True…” He concluded. “But that still doesn’t fix the problem with Mabel.”

Abruptly, Mabel gasped and her eyes pierced intensely at Stan’s like she had just received a revelation. “Grunkle Stan! You can make me a fake ID! I’ll take on a new persona, Maribel the Beautiful! She’s your long lost granddaughter who has come to rekindle her relationship with her family, who she’s only just discovered!”

From the table, Stan snorted. “Uh-huh, and is ‘the’ gonna be your middle name then?” He deadpanned, adding quotations with his fingers as he said ‘the’. 

The more studious of the twins grinned and shook his head, amused at his great-niece’s imaginative but ultimately unserious suggestion. He was glad she seemed to have bounced back enough from their brief discussion about school to be doing bits and told her good-naturedly, “Yes that’s great dear, but what about your parents? I doubt they’ll be fooled.” 

“Oh.” The sound she uttered sounded far away to her and she froze. Her parents, she hadn’t even thought about her parents until just now and she felt her heart come to a screeching halt inside of her at the thought. Suddenly, her vision began to swim with tears as a tidal wave of emotion crashed against the inside of her ribcage and she found herself blinking through wet eyes.

“Mom and dad…” She squeaked.

Stan half-heartedly laughed. “Yeah, I betcha they’ll be happy ta see ya.” He rubbed the back of his neck uncertainly and included, “Do-do you wanna call em?”

She paused her knitting and looked at the floor hesitantly while a great amount of excitement and anxiety bloomed in her heart in equal parts. Talking to her parents again sounded like heaven to her but she knew they would ask questions. Lots of questions. How was she supposed to answer them? “I do… And I don’t. Can we just wait for Dipper to get home first? I want him to be here with me when we do.”

Her fez-wearing grunkle nodded and smiled understandingly at her. “Yeah, yeah, I get it.”

The girl shook her head in disbelief and peered absentmindedly at the knitting needles she held in her hand. The weight of finally being home again came back to her, unrelenting in its ferocity. She laid back on the shag carpeted floor and held her arms out wide and tried to wrap her mind around everything again. She was here and she was safe. Her loved ones were with her and she never needed to leave their sides ever again. As she stared at the ceiling, she blew a raspberry and a thought so bizarre drifted through her head it was brilliant.

“Grunkle Ford!” She gasped, sitting upright and staring him in the eye.

“Do you have another idea, dear?” Ford replied, leaning further forward in his chair.

Mabel nodded her head enthusiastically and began speaking at the speed of a barreling freight train. “Yeah! What if we told mom and dad that you are a secret government guy who studies weird paranormal things up here and you got sucked into a top secret portal and then the same thing happened to me and so then we both got back at the same time so that’s why we’re now both here?” She took in a frantic breath at the end of her run-on sentence and smiled sweetly at him, gauging his response. 

“I suppose that may work… Possibly. But why do I have to be a part of this story?” Ford questioned hesitantly. 

Stan gave his twin a puzzled gaze, accompanied with a head tilt. “What? She has a point, Sixer. You can’t stay hidden forever. What if we go visit the niblings at their parents’ house some day? What are ya gonna do, hide in the car the whole time?”

Ford’s brows furrowed and he looked away anxiously, an uneasy frown appearing on his lips. “Well, I-” he sighed, “My story is difficult to explain, let alone fabricate a believable story that anyone in the family would believe.” His eyes came back to Stan. “But you’re right, I cannot hide anymore now that I’m here once more.”

A part of him wished that he could hide from his family for the rest of his life. He hadn’t seen any of them in over thirty years and attempting to explain what had been going on sounded like a monumental task he didn’t have the tools to accomplish. Perhaps it would be better if he went back through the portal where he wouldn’t have to face any of that at all. He was, after all, more familiar and comfortable with the wildness of the Multiverse than his family’s judgments. Ford’s frown deepened at his thoughts. No, he was here now and he logically could not run from his family any longer. But the anxious part of him desperately wished he could.

“What’s wrong, Sixer?” Stan grunted, a questioning look on his face.

“Hm?”

“You’re starin’ at me all uh, dramatically with your mouth open.” Stan conveyed, gesturing vaguely by twirling his hand at his brother.

Ford felt his cheeks pinken slightly and he smiled sheepishly. “Oh. I uh-” He didn’t know what to say. How could he tell Stan his mind had just been wandering to the possibility of abandoning him again for his own gain? That was a terrible thing for him to be thinking about and there was no way Stan was going to hear about it. So he cleared his throat and said instead, “I’m just not sure about the details of Mabel’s suggestion about our disappearance. It would entail communicating to her parents about the Weirdness of Gravity Falls. Could they handle that truth?”

Mabel shrugged. “It’s ok! We can workshop it with Dipper and Pacifica.” She tapped her needles together before resuming her knitting. “When do they get back?”

Stan casually checked his watch. “Uh… in about two an’ a half hours, give or take.”

Mabel clicked her tongue in thought. “Or- we don’t have to tell mom and dad right away. W-we can wait, if we have to. Think things through.” She said, trying and failing to smile. 

Now that it had been brought to her attention, she very much wanted to go see her parents again and tell them everything about all the adventures she had been on. But the grown side of her, the one hardened over the years spent in the Multiverse, relayed to her that it was necessary to put her emotions on hold for the greater good. They didn’t know how mom and dad would react to her being ‘found’ and if they would keep quiet about it or take it to the news. If the news got involved, things could get hairy very quickly.

Ford sat up out of his chair and took a seat next to the girl on the carpet and she didn’t hesitate to rest her head against his shoulder and sigh deeply, full of longing for her loved ones. He then put an arm around her and drew her closer to him, whispering, “I know it’s hard. I’m sorry.” 

Stan couldn’t help but feel a pant of hurt in his chest at his twin’s simple gesture. The Ford he knew wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy whatsoever and would have never been so comfortable with an affectionate display like the one he was currently witnessing. For him to grow so close to Mabel, they must have endured some rough stuff. Stuff he wasn’t there to protect Ford from since he had been the one to put him in that situation in the first place. A fresh bout of shame bloomed hideously within him and his neutral expression soured into sorrow. Watching his brother comfort Mabel further cemented that this version of Ford was unfamiliar to him, softer and weathered to be strong by life experience, and that unfamiliarity with his own kin twisted in his gut like he had been stabbed with a dagger.

“We need to make sure our story is foolproof.” Mabel continued solemnly as her needles clinked. “Everybody needs to know it and be ready to recite it. We can’t afford for anyone to be suspicious of what really happened. If that means I need to be missing or dead to my parents for a few more days, I can live with that.”

“That’s real mature, pumpkin. But are ya sure you can handle that?” Stan cooed gently.

Mabel squared her jaw. “I have to.” She replied seriously, her head still on Ford’s shoulder as she stared down at the beginnings of her ever growing sweater.

“Well alright then, that settles it. We can speak more on this with the whole family later.” Ford put in softly. 

His gaze crossed over Stan and he caught a glimpse of his brother’s unhappy expression just before he tried to hide it with a stoic mask. The trench coat clad man narrowed his eyes at his twin, who made an attempt at deflecting Ford’s suspicions by grinning at him. This only made Ford more suspicious of his sibling and his expression hardened, expecting answers out of his brother. Stan chose to play dumb and gave his twin a confused but innocent expression, which Ford didn’t buy as he raised a brow at him with an unimpressed look.

It seemed as though the twin’s silent conversation was about to continue on when Soos burst into the living room and cried, “Mr. Pines, we got a tour bus approaching as we speak dood!” 

Ford had never seen Stan stand so quickly as he leapt from his chair and ruffled Mabel’s hair as he passed and chuckled, “Welp, looks like I gotta get back to work.” He was out of the room before Ford could even protest.

After approximately two and a half seconds of silence, Mabel inquired of Ford, “So what are you up to for the rest of the day?”

Stanford released his great-niece from his one armed hug and leaned back with his arms behind him and said evenly, “Oh, well I was going to clean out my study since I didn’t exactly leave it in the best of conditions last time I visited it.”

“But I thought you slept in your study last night? The one with the body-swap carpet? It wasn’t dirty.” 

“No, that’s my old room. I have a hidden study between the floors, above the basement but under the house.” He stood and growled, “I have quite a lot of Bill memorabilia I need to dispose of.”

Mabel’s face brightened and she jumped to her feet. “Oh, oh! Can I help? I’m great at smashing stuff! And burning stuff! I wanna burn something!”

He looked helplessly at her excitement and hid his hands in his pockets as he communicated to her uncomfortably, “Well, it’s not going to be a pleasant sight down there, Mabel. The last time I remember being there was only days before I was sucked into the portal… There was a lot of blood.”

The girl’s giddy appearance was stamped down to a downcast one when the weight of her grunkle’s words sunk in. “Oh. Oh. ” She uttered in realization before she gave him a sad smile. “Well, I don’t want you to be down there with spooky stuff all by yourself anyways.”

Well, he supposed that if Mabel was insisting she spent time with him considering the current state of their relationship, he wasn’t going to protest. Mabel surely knew what she was getting herself into, having unfortunately familiarized herself with Bill and his violent tendencies. “Then you can come.” He muttered.

The teen set her knitting stuff down on the table and chirped, “Great. I’ll go get the cleaning supplies.”

Sauntering off into the kitchen, Mabel couldn’t help but frown to herself as she remembered the awkward air that had arisen between her and Ford not much earlier that morning in this very room. She told herself that forcing herself to be around Ford and help him with cleaning out his study would be a good way to heal her feelings surrounding him. Despite still feeling wronged by him, she really wanted to move on from the bad blood between them and turn it into water under the bridge. As she gathered up an assortment of chemical cleaners into a cracked mop bucket, Ford made his way into the kitchen holding a broom, dust pan, and a roll of trash bags and smiled at her.

“Hm. ‘Kay, I think I got everything.” The girl confirmed. “Some of these bottles look like they’re twenty years old and are growing cancer but I think they’ll work.”

Ford chuckled softly. “Brilliant. Let’s go then.”

The duo made a lot of progress turning Ford’s dark, dreary, and outright frightening looking study into something that appeared considerably less like it was ripped from a room of a haunted house over the next two hours. The fancy, red artisan rug was rolled up and set in the elevator to be thrown out, decades old blood and ink spills were scrubbed from the hardwood floor, and the rotting library’s worth of paper scattered everywhere were heaped into trash bins. It was difficult for Ford to face his bloodied and disastrous study at first, seeing physical remnants of all the suffering Cipher had caused him after learning of his betrayal. But as waste baskets of old bandages and shattered glass filled, and as Mabel hummed to herself and periodically gave him reassuring smiles, his unease diminished and he found himself humming along with her, the two of them putting in a whole lot of elbow grease to remove a particularly stubborn ink spill from the floor. 

He didn’t even bother to remove the paintings of Cipher up on the far side of the wall until they had nearly finished with everything else. Instead, Ford kept them up so Bill could see with his own terrible eye that he was getting along just fine without him. That he was moving on and purging him from his life and giving him a metaphorical middle finger all the way. The paintings of Cipher were finally cast off from the walls almost two hours later, which both Mabel and Ford took much pleasure in as their frames splintered and paint cracked as they made contact with the hardwood floor. 

“Ahahaha! Yes, die stupid paintings, die!” Mabel squealed with savage joy as she stomped on the remains of a once highly decorated picture frame. 

A bark of a laugh left Ford’s throat and he grinned as he got in on the fun, ripping one side of a frame free from the rest of itself and using it as a club to beat the artistry into tatters and splinters.

“Yeah! That’s the spirit, Grunkle Ford!” Mabel beamed, ripping another painting from the wall and stabbing Bill right in the eye with her dagger.

Riiiiiiiiiip! The girl sliced the canvas clean in half and then picked it up by the frame and smashed it down onto the floor with a yell. “Die! Die! Die!” She shouted, breaking the thing beyond repair.

“Atta girl, Mabel!” Ford laughed, pulling another painting loose and watching it plummet to the ground among the mangled remains of its brethren, unable to do anything but fall. 

They shared a cheerful laugh between just the two of them for the first time in what felt like weeks. Ford’s grin grew as he saw the happy glint in Mabel’s eyes and she smiled at him with them. She charged the newly fallen painting and jumped on top of it over and over again with her sturdy boots like an enraged kangaroo until it was nothing but shredded remains. 

As he giddily observed her relentlessly beating down on the pictures, Ford was glad to realize that what he initially thought was going to be a painful process full of bad memories and lingering paranoia cleaning up his study actually turned out to be a therapeutic activity he hadn’t known he was missing out on. Both Mabel and him were grinning now, satisfied by their progress as all the litter was piled up into cans or boxes and the crumpled paintings sat dejectedly in a corner of the elevator while the study sparkled, not from the glow of Cipher’s golden statues, but from their absence. 

“Oh, they must be back from school now!” Mabel declared, checking the time on a device on Ford’s wrist that looked an awful lot like a watch, but was in fact a piece of illegal equipment used by the two of them to jump dimensions and open portals during their time in the Multiverse.

Ford shifted the trash can full of old, blood spattered parchment and broken glass to his hip so he could also glance at the thing, his Multipurpose Portaling Device as it was called, and nodded stiffly. “Yes, I suppose you’re correct. Why don’t you run along and I’ll quickly finish up down here?” 

The girl chucked a beaten length of painted canvas that had once resembled Bill into the elevator with a battlecry and then stomped on it, earning her a lopsided grin and a pleased look from her grunkle. Then she went back to the desk and gathered their bucket full of cleaning supplies as Ford grunted with exertion behind her as he hefted up a container full of old books on Bill, ready to be burned.

“Meh,” she shrugged, “We’re pretty much done anyways. Might as well get these last few things into the elevator. Plus, it’s been a second since we’ve done anything together.”

“Well okay.” The old man shrugged contently. Apparently smashing wooden things to bits, especially if they resembled someone they both hated, was a great way to rekindle a bond with her. He made a mental note of it as he set the box down in the elevator with most of the floorspace now taken up by garbage. 

A few boxes in the elevator later, the sweater-wearing duo was headed up to the gift shop. Ford opened the vending machine door, nearly smacking a startled tourist in the face in the process, and let Mabel through into the house. 

She grinned at the tourist, who was staring with her jaw gaping at them, a dollar bill in her frozen hand, as she walked through the door and said, “Sorry, excuse us.”

The tourist simply side-stepped out of the way, still speechless, as Mabel and Ford passed and the older of the two locked the door behind him. He glanced around apprehensively at the rest of the room full of tourists but relaxed a fraction when he noticed that none of them had appeared to realize he had just come from behind a vending machine. 

“Mabel dude! Stan’s bro! What’s good you guys?” Wendy called with lazy enthusiasm from behind the somewhat busy register. 

The cloak wearing teen girl stopped dead in her path to the living room and beamed, causing Ford, who was more focusing on scanning the tourists for suspicious activity than where he was going, to run straight into her backside. Mabel ran up to the register and wrapped the older redhead in a tight hug. 

“Wendy! It’s good to see you! Do you know if Dipper and Pacifica are here?” She chirped.

“Yeah girl, they walked in the door not too long ago. I think they’re in the kitchen.” Wendy nodded, returning the hug and gesturing towards the kitchen with her head.

“Sweetthankyouyou’rethebest!” Mabel said so quickly her words bled together and she grabbed Grunkle Ford by the hand and raced off towards the kitchen.

“Bro-bro!” Mabel screamed the second her eyes befell upon Dipper sitting at the table as she barreled into the kitchen.

Dipper’s head snapped up from his shoes, which he was busy untying, and cried, “Mabel!” As he spread his arms out wide and fully embraced his sister in a heartfelt hug.

“You were gone for forever!” The teen girl muttered into his coat as she squeezed him lovingly and wished to never let go.

“Ugh, it felt like forever. I think that was the longest school day of my entire life.” The boy agreed.

Pacifica gave a joyous laugh at the scene that she saw as she rounded the corner into the room. “Nice to see you, Mabel.” She said kindly.

Mabel locked eyes with the other young woman and gasped loudly before taking her brother by the hand and capturing Pacifica around her mid back with the other and forcing the two of them into a group hug with her, which the couple glady participated in. The sweater-wearing girl held onto them with all her strength, hoping they would receive it as a sign of her love. After several seconds embracing, the trio pulled away from one another and shared a smile.

Mabel opened her mouth a fraction to speak but suddenly paused when a bout of uncertainty came over her. She thought she wanted to talk to her brother about their parents but now she wasn’t so sure. Her initial enthusiasm had faded and was now replaced with anxiety. What if her parents didn’t take the news well or even told her that she and Dipper had to leave Gravity Falls? Maybe she could actually afford to wait a bit longer before talking to them.

“Oh, hi Great Uncle Ford.” Dipper dictated with a cross between surprise and sheepishness as he suddenly noticed there was a fourth person in the room.

“Hello Dipper, and Pacifica. How was school for you two?” He replied evenly.

Pacifica tilted her head to one side in thought before stating, “Well, I contemplated climbing out the window so I could come back here at least once every period so I’d say pretty poor, all things considered.”

Dipper laughed and put his arm around his girlfriend and grinned, “Yep, I’d say that makes sense.”

Stanford chuckled lightly and said, “Ah, well now you’re here and you have all evening to spend with Mabel.”

“And all weekend!” Mabel cheered and then when Ford gave her a puzzled glance she added, “It’s a Friday today, Grunkle Ford!”

Ford nodded with understanding. “Well that explains it.” He hummed, helping himself to another cup of coffee.

“And because it’s a Friday, we can stay up all night and party in the town!” She exclaimed, raising her hands and doing a little dance. “I need new clothes, so we gotta mission to tackle the mall and then after that, I’m thinking we can have a movie slash pedicure night! I have over two years worth of new movies and pop culture to catch up on and…” The girl cut herself off with a gasp and she turned to stare intensely at Ford, who was innocently minding his own business sipping his coffee while listening to Mabel talk. He gazed back at her crazed expression with a mixture of apprehension and excitement, knowing she was scheming something concerning him in her head.

“Grunkle. Ford.” The teen girl began vehemently, stressing each syllable of his name. “You haven’t been to earth for over thirty years! You have sooooo many movies to watch! We need a family pedicure and movie marathon this instant!” 

She spun on her heel to face Dipper and Pacifica before Ford could even agree to her plan and chirped, “I’m talking snacks, candy, soda, and pizza! We’re gonna eat so much junk we won’t be able to move. Paz, we need your nail polish, cuticle cream, essential oils, hmm what else, what else…?” Mabel tapped her foot on the tile floor rapidly, her brain going a mile a minute to create the best movie and spa night the world had ever seen. “...Not to mention fairy lights for mood lighting. Did I get everything?” She questioned everyone in the room.

Pacifica stepped closer to her and praised, “Um yeah, everything and more!”

“Oh, oh! Dipper! I need you to make a list of all the top sci-fi, fantasy, and romance movies to come out in the last thirty two years.” The brunette instructed.

Her twin brother raised his hands out in front of him. “Woah, wait Mabel, are we going to the mall or having a movie night?”

“Both I say!” His sister exclaimed, clenching her hands into fists and shaking them at the ceiling while she cried at it. “The sooner we can leave for Gravity Malls, the sooner we can get back and get the real party started!” She beamed, pointing from the front door to the living room. “Now get your shoes back on, mush!” Mabel commanded enthusiastically, shoving the two of them towards their footwear. 

“Mabel dear, how do you expect to pay for all of this?” Ford brought up, resigned to the fact that he was going to be forced to receive a pedicure that night.

“Oh, um, I didn’t think of that… Well… With Grunkle Stan’s credit card, of course!” The other sweater wearer retorted triumphantly. She forced herself to smile wider and hoped neither Dipper nor Pacifica asked if she had been planning to steal what she needed. That had been the default in the Multiverse and she had honestly forgotten that people needed to pay for things on earth. Well, that was, if they weren’t Grunkle Stan.

“Do you really think he’ll hand it over?” Dipper questioned as he slipped his sneakers back on.

“Yeah and into Mabel’s hands too?” Pacifica quipped, tying her laces.

Ford stood and placed his hot mug down on the worn tabletop, gesturing for Mabel to follow him and said good-naturedly, “I’m sure he’ll most likely be most receptive to my voice, especially if you make some rather sad eyes at him Mabel. Now come along dear, we have a con man to convince.” 

“Yeah, woo!” Mabel cheered and together, they headed from the kitchen to the gift shop.

Once they reached the living room and were just out of earshot from the young couple however, Ford gently reached for her arm and stopped her and she faced him with a faltering smile. Ford knew by now that she had a tendency, just like Stan, to pretend everything was fine and good when things were in fact not all great. He saw her forced cheer and it was concerning to him.

“Mabel, are you sure you’re alright?” He asked softly.

She bit her lip and broke eye contact with him and muttered, “Oh, I guess you got me. I, um, just don’t want to talk to them about what we gotta tell my parents and people and that junk right now. I got cold feet.” She shrugged, laughed nervously, and continued, “I guess I’m trying to distract myself.”

The old man contemplated her words carefully, nodding with understanding. They both knew how important of a conversation they all had ahead of themselves but he understood her reluctance to talk about the hard things. It was a task he also was far from looking forward to but he knew that the longer he put it off, the more he could rationalize within himself that there wasn’t a need to let Mabel’s parents know he existed at all. For his sake, sooner was better than later. But for her sake, perhaps later would work more. 

So he placed a hand on her shoulder and said with a wink, “You’ve been through much this past week. I say you’ve earned a distraction for one night.”

Her smile came back to her in full brightness and she chirped, “Thanks Grunkle Ford. Now let’s go steal Grunkle Stan’s wallet.” 

Ford grinned at the ground before following after his great-niece. “I never said anything about stealing, Mabel.” 

A short time later and after a bit of persuading and badgering Grunkle Stan, Mabel found herself in the possession of her grunkle’s wallet, which she was promptly forced to hand over to Pacifica per Stan’s request. Just like Ford had predicted, Mabel’s puppy dog eyes had worked wonders on the man and the girl was impressed that the more studious of the twins hadn’t even needed to resort to threats to get him to give his wallet away. 

“Alright, but don’t be spending it all in one place and uh, see if you can go by the thrift shops first before going into any real stores.” Stan instructed the trio of Mabel, Dipper, and Pacifica as he subtly raised the price on a rack full of t-shirts that had been selling well that morning. 

“Got it Mr. Pines.” Pacifica saluted.

“You can count on us to ensure Mabel doesn’t max out your card.” Dipper also saluted with a cheeky grin.

Stan chuckled dryly. “Great, now Sixer, why don’t you drive these three scamps to the mall while I finish up with this last group of tourists here?” He grunted, thumbing over his shoulder to a line of tourists waiting in line to purchase merchandise. 

Ford grimaced and his cheeks pinkened. He had been hoping he could have avoided revealing this particular piece of information for at least a little longer. “Yes well, ahem, that would be a great idea Stanley. That was, if I remembered how to drive.”

Mabel blinked dumbfoundedly at him. “You mean you can fly a spaceship but you can’t drive a car?”

“Um, yes?” Ford admitted sheepishly, folding his hands behind his back.

The girl just stared at him with her mouth hanging slightly open, as if this was an unprecedented revelation to her. “I can’t believe you.”

“You’re kiddin’ me.” Stan deadpanned.

“I’m afraid I’m not.” Ford huffed with slight irritation.

“You’ve flown a spaceship?” Dipper goggled, his eyes much brighter than they were a few seconds ago.

Ford jumped at the opportunity to change the subject away from the fact that he was unable to drive and recounted, “Yes, I’ve piloted a spacecraft on more than one occasion. Once over ten years ago and once with Mabel. They’re more intuitive than you may initially think.” 

“That’s amazing.” Dipper gushed. “So did you-”

“Alright, alright, if you’re gonna just stand around I’m gonna put y'all to work.” Stan interjected.

“Well,” Mabel began sweetly, “we wouldn’t be standing here if you would just take us to the mall. Or do you not want me to spend quality time with my family?” 

Stan put his hands on his hips and looked at his great-niece with an intrigued expression. “What’s with you and the guilt tripping today? First my wallet and now this? I’m proud of you, kid. Now tell you what, because I’m so proud of you, I guess I could afford to take ya to the mall because someone can’t.” He finished, glancing at Ford as he dramatically emphasized the end of his sentence. 

Ford rolled his eyes and jabbed sarcastically, “Well I’m sorry I haven’t operated a motor vehicle for the latter half of my life.”

“Yeah, yeah, Sixer.” Then he shouted to the whole room, “Soos, watch the shack! I’ll be back!” He patted down his suit coat and mumbled, “Now, where did I put my keys…? Oh here they are. Ok, move it people, to the car.”

As Stan ushered his family out of the gift shop, Dipper grinned and whispered something in Pacifica’s ear and the blonde covered her mouth and tried and failed to cover the fit of snickering that left her all while looking at Ford. The man in question raised a brow questioningly.

“Wait, what is it? Tell me, tell me!” Mabel demanded, grabbing ahold of Dipper’s vest and nearly tripping him down the stairs in the process. 

Dipper snickered and whispered in his sister’s ear and she erupted into bellowing laughter and exclaimed, “Hahaha! Grunkle Ford, you gotta hear this. Dipper said,” she stopped to get out another burst of laughter and continued, “he said you’ll need to learn to drive with Stan, just like him.”

“Ugh, no, Mabel don’t!” The boy fretted.

“Too late.” Pacifica giggled, giving her boyfriend a playful punch.

Ford looked his brother up and down with a displeased expression and clicked his tongue. “I’d rather never drive again.”

Stan frowned as they crossed the yard and shot back, “An’ what, you just want me to be your chaperone for the rest of your life?”

“Well if you have to be the one to teach me to drive, then yes.” His twin eye-rolled.

“Aw c’mon, I’ve been teachin’ Dipper here and nothing’s happened yet.” Stan retorted.

“Stan, have you ever seen the way you drive? You shouldn’t be behind a wheel.” Pacifica sassed as Dipper opened the back door for her.

“It’s too late for that.” Stan grunted, turning the ignition. 

“Woo, dangerous car ride, yes!” Mabel cheered as she took a window seat so Dipper could sit beside Pacifica.

Ford decided he was finished being dramatically irritated and laughed from the passenger seat, “Maybe I should drive.”

Mabel rolled down the window as Stan put El Diablo in reverse and quipped, “Well Grunkle Ford, if you drive a car anything like you pilot a spacecraft then maybe not…”

Ford’s dramatic flare was reignited just as quickly as it disappeared and he defended, “I was a fine pilot Mabel, and you know it.” 

The brunette nodded gleefully. “I know Grunkle Ford, I’m just teasing you because I love you.”

“I’m aware.” Ford responded with smiling eyes.

“He’s just bein’ dramatic like always.” Stan grunted.

Ford pronouncedly snapped back with, “I’m not always dramatic.”

The teenagers giggled in the back because of his words and Mabel took the opportunity to start a tickle fight with Pacifica, who retaliated by pulling her cloak over her head as Dipper watched them devolve further into laughter. Eventually, the cloak came off and ended up getting thrown into the front.

“Aw, no! Ford give it back!” Mabel cried, reaching to the front passenger seat and attempting to grab her cloak back from Ford, who was keeping it out of her reach with a grin.

“Not until you take back what you said about me being a poor pilot.” He replied cheekily.

“What? Blackmail! Grunkle Stan, this is blackmail I say!” She protested.

“I’d hardly call that blackmail, Mabel.” Dipper chimed in.

“You won’t be needing that cloak where you’re goin’ anyways, Mabel.” Stan informed. “Speakin’ of which, how long are you staying and when do I need to pick you up?”

Pacifica was the one to answer this time. “Well the mall closes at nine but I’m not sure we’ll be staying till then. We’ll just call you.” She stated as she typed away on her cell phone.

“And then we can have a movie-pedicure night!” Mabel whooped.

“Sounds good to me. I think I’ll pass on the pedicure part though.” Stan shrugged.

Mabel remarked, “No! I have to give you a glow up! If not, I’ll hold Grunkle Ford hostage until you relent.”

“Where am I being held hostage in this hypothetical situation?” Ford prodded, handing Mabel’s cloak back and hoping the gesture would be enough for her to denounce her threat.

“Um, my bedroom. Where he’ll be forced to listen to Sev’ral Timez for the rest of his days.” She clucked, wringing her hands together evilly and giving a sinister smile.

As he pulled into the parking lot of the mall, Stan chuckled and smirked, “Now you got me more convinced.”

“Hey!” Ford barked.

“No!” Pacifica worried. “I have to sleep there too, Mabel. You can’t keep Ford in there.”

Mabel opened her car door and stated, “I guess you’re right, Paz. Well, you’re off the hook Grunkle Ford, you got lucky this time.”

“I better thank my lucky stars.” Ford deadpanned.

Dipper hopped out of the car on the other side and held out his hand to help his girlfriend out when Mabel came running around the back of the vehicle and pulled him away screaming, “We’re here, we’re here!” Dipper could do nothing but give in to his sister’s enthusiasm and let her drag him to the front doors.

Pacifica helped herself out of the back of the cabin with a giggle and called out, “Thanks Stan!” 

She jogged to catch up with her friends with a smile plastered on her face, eager to get the night of fun that awaited them started.

The Gravity Falls mall hadn’t changed one iota since the last time Mabel had seen it. As she spun gleefully in a circle around on the scuffed tiles in desperate need of polishing, she took in the sights of the poorly maintained infrastructure, cracking wallpaper, and grimy smelling air as people went about their business spending their Friday evening shopping. It was fairly busy, or as busy as a mall in Roadkill County could get, which wasn’t saying much in the grand scheme of things. But it was magical to Mabel because it was just as she remembered it, as run down and leaky looking as it was.

Pacifica’s phone dinged and a subtle smile crossed her lips as she read the notification. “Oh, they’re here!” She grinned.

“Sweet.” Dipper said easily.

“Wait, who’s here?” Mabel probed uncertainly.

Pacifica shrugged nonchalantly. “We invited a few friends to come with us, I hope you don’t mind.” She told Mabel as Dipper began waving at two people from across the main plaza.

Mabel began to feel a hint of betrayal leak into her and a small part of her began to wonder just how much Pacifica had changed since the last time she had seen her. The beginnings of a frown etched itself on her face. “Oh. Yeah sure, okay.” She said falteringly.

Pacifica mirrored her with a frown of her own for just a second before her grin came back and she nudged Mabel with her elbow. “Why don’t you see who they are before you get all mopey on me girl?”

Dipper stopped his waving as the two newcomers caught sight of them and Mabel followed her brother’s gaze and she had to do a double take. Her jaw dropped when her brain processed that she was staring at Candy and Grenda, who had stopped dead in their tracks and were gaping back at her. The three girls were frozen solid for a good couple of seconds and Pacifica side eyed her boyfriend and was about to ask if they had broken his twin when a shriek broke free from Mabel’s mouth.

“CANDY! GRENDA! Come here girls! Oh I missed you so much!” Mabel yelled, stretching her arms out wide and racing towards her best friends in the whole world.

“M-Mabel?” Candy stuttered, widening her eyes in disbelief.

“MABEL!” Grenada boomed and sprinted to her long lost friend, shortly followed by Candy.

The girls collided with enough force to shake the earth and a lot of bewildered cries came from all three of them as the couple linked hands and sauntered up to them. 

“Surprise!” Pacifica said warmly with Dipper happily by her side.

“Girls! I haven’t seen you in forever! How’ve you been?” Mabel laughed with an ear-to-ear smile as she pulled free from Grenda’s hulk-like grip.

“Mabel- what is going on here?” Candy cried, readjusting her glasses.

“I’M SO CONFUSED!” Grenada bellowed.

Mabel’s joy faltered and she glanced around as if she was a cornered animal looking for an escape route. She had been so excited to see her friends again that she hadn’t thought about them asking where she had been and her head scrambled to come up with a viable story or excuse to tell them. “Well, I-”

Dipper and Pacifica shared a concerned look. Had they done the wrong thing? They wanted to do something nice for Mabel and surprise her but the situation was quickly going south. So Dipper swooped in to hopefully keep things from getting worse. “She doesn’t want to talk about it just yet. B-but we found her. Last night.”

“Yeah!” Pacifica said a little too quickly. “What matters is that she’s here and she’s okay.”

Mabel’s eyes darted to Pacifica and her brother and she saw the apologetic and frantic looks on their faces and she forced herself to smile and nod. “Yeah, I don’t really want to talk about it. I just want to spend time with you guys.” She insisted, making a conscious effort to not look so startled.

“Ok, cool!” Grenada said not quite loud enough to turn heads.

“That’s okay with me.” Candy nodded, putting her hands on her hips.

“Well ok then,” Mabel started evenly, taking Candy’s and Grenda’s hands, “shall we get going then?”

“Sure thing, Mabel.” Dipper agreed, rustling her hair.

His sister giggled at his gesture and ducked underneath his arm and attempted to knock his baseball cap off his head, which Dipper was able to dodge on account of being almost a head taller than her now. But Mabel wasn’t finished and she lunged at him and Dipper ran, giving her no choice but to give chase. She managed to grab him around the middle and lifted him off of the ground and Dipper threw his hat towards Pacifica but it went sideways and ended up in Candy’s hands. 

Then suddenly, Mabel released her twin and cheered, “Last one to the food court has to pay!” as she sprinted off towards the food.

“Hey- wait! I thought you wanted to shop!” Pacifica cried, breaking out into a run.

“I do! But I’m hungry too!” Mabel shouted, not bothering to look back.

The five teenagers raced off in the direction of the food court like their lives depended on it, ignoring the irritated looks they received from some shoppers, grins plastered on their faces the whole way there. In the end, it was Candy who reached the destination last because of an impressive last second sprint on Pacifica’s part. The short, glasses wearing woman argued she and Pacifica were at the disadvantage because of their less lengthy legs in the line for Hermanos Brothers. But luckily for Candy, Mabel remembered that Pacifica was actually carrying Stan’s credit card and the argument dissolved.

They paid for their food and as Mabel carried the tray full of cheap Mexican food goodness to a table Grenda had claimed, she realized that she was partaking in a regular teenage earth activity for the very first time. She paused to look around at the other groups of kids their age hanging out and choosing to spend their Friday night at the busy mall and how much they must take that for granted. Here she was at fifteen, being with her friends for the first time in over two years. A surge of emotion shot through her and she was suddenly aware of the hot tears that appeared behind her eyes as a wave of gratitude crashed down on her. Gratitude to finally be home.

Then Dipper was by her side. “Hey Mabel, are you good?” 

Mabel’s gaze focused on her brother and she gave him a watery smile as she continued towards the table once more. “Yep. I’m just so so so happy to be here, to be doing normal teenage things.” She chuckled weakly and continued, “I know it’s probably silly to want to cry over eating fast food with your friends, but I do.” 

Her brother frowned slightly at her, as if he disagreed with her last statement. “That’s not silly at all. You haven’t seen us for a really long time.”

Mabel set their food down and took a seat next to Grenda, blinking away her teary eyes, and complimented, “Thanks Dip-dop, you’re the bestest.”

The five of them tore into their food, too hungry to really make proper conversation with one another. It wasn’t until their plates had been cleaned and their styrofoam cups had been emptied that they started up with their conversation once more.

“That was delicious.” Candy smiled easily, gathering up her companions’ wrappers and stuffing them into the paper sack their food came in. “Thanks to Stan’s credit card.”

Pacifica nodded, taking one last sip of her cola. “Yep, now Mabel, where are we off to? It’s your pick, girl.”

Mabel shrugged as she got to her feet and dusted some crumbs out of her black sweater. “Oh, I dunno, I need more skirts and I think that maybe Grunkle Stan has a point, Thrifty’s could be a good place to find some super cute second hand stuff.”

“Yeah, let’s go!” Grenada whooped, pounding her fist down on the table and rattling it.

“Now uh, where is it? I forgot the layout of this place.” The short-haired brunette admitted, rubbing the back of her neck.

“But you got to the food court just fine?” Dipper questioned, taking Pacifica’s hand.

“I always know where the food is, Dipper. It’s in my blood.” She chirped, poking his nose.

Pacifica laughed easily and gestured for the little group to follow her. “I got you covered. Follow me, people.”

“You’re gonna look so amazing with the clothes you get.” Candy decided, jumping onto Grenda’s back so the larger girl could give her a piggyback ride.

“Hell yeah I am!” Mabel laughed. “Now onwards Paz, be my guide.”

“You got it.” The blonde confirmed, flipping her hair and nearly hitting Dipper in the face with it before taking the lead in the group and strutting off in the direction of the thrift shop.

While a smile creeped across her face, she knew this was going to be fun.

Chapter Text

The hotrod red El Diablo pulled up in front of the Mystery Shack as afternoon sunlight filtered through between the pine branches of the late October day. A light breeze blew fallen leaves of varying shapes and colors of crimson, orange, and sunflower yellow across the yard, crunching underneath Ford’s boots as he exited the vehicle. Stan closed his door and locked the car and walked around to Ford, who was leaning against the side in wait for his brother. The fez wearing man greeted his twin with a lopsided smile and Ford pushed himself off of the side door and together, they walked up the path to the porch.

“I’m glad the kiddos are havin’ some fun finally. I know they need it.” Stan grunted, his breath forming a frosty cloud in the air.

“As am I. They all seem to thoroughly enjoy each other’s company.” Ford agreed, his boots kicking up warm colored leaves and dead pine needles.

Just then, Soos came out of the shack, locking the door to the gift shop behind him. He spotted the brothers making their way to the front door and waltzed over to them with a grin plastered on his face. “Oh! Mr. Pineses! There’s someone in the giftshop waiting for you. I didn’t know when you’d be back so I told him he could wait inside.”

Stan blinked dumbfoundedly and furrowed his brows at his son-like employee. “Soos, you left someone alone in my house?”

“My house.” Ford corrected.

“Yeah, right, whatever. I paid your mortgage.” Stan rolled his eyes. 

Soos chuckled nervously. “Well, yeah dawg. I didn’t think he’d be an issue though, y’know? But-but now you’re here so it doesn’t even matter.”

As Ford continued up the steps and opened the front door, Stan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, “Ok, ok, just don’t do it again, capiche?”

Stanford never heard Soos’s response to his boss since he let his curiosity get the best of him and he made his way across the family room and through the doors labeled ‘ employees only ’ and into the gift shop. Who could possibly be waiting to talk to the both of them? He got his answer when he saw him sitting on the counter at the register, gazing out the door window to the pines.

“Fiddleford-!” The exclamation left Ford’s lips before he even registered what he was saying. 

Most abruptly, he felt his heart come to a halt in his chest and his legs turn to the consistency of cooked pasta as his vision narrowed and his old friend filled his vision and all else seemed to be blocked out. A plethora of emotions stabbed through him like swords, shame, regret, guilt, and despair. Each sliced straight through his body, leaving old wounds messy and bleeding once again. He hadn’t seen his college buddy in over thirty years and now there he was, sitting not twenty feet from him with a hesitant smile.

“Stanferd…” McGucket gasped in response. 

Ford swallowed weakly, feeling his anxiety zap across himself like crackling electricity and settle with loud buzzing in his chest, scraping against his insides like the bristles of a wire brush. “I-I haven’t seen you since the portal…” He hung his head as his anxiety metamorphosed into something dark and weighty. “I- you must surely hate me.”

It was at that moment that Stan stepped one foot into the gift shop, made eye contact with McGucket, shared a mutual look of understanding with him, and then turned right around to go sit on the couch until he was needed.

The Tennessee native hopped gently off of the register and hobbled over to his old roommate and scientific partner with a melancholy smile. “Hey now, all things can be forgiven. I’hm here, ain’t I? If I hated ya, I sure as heck wouldn’t be here right now.” Then without saying another word, he enveloped his old pal in a hug, one that Ford was surprised to be given but did not shy away from and he wrapped his arms around Fiddleford.

Something heavy that Ford didn’t know he had been carrying around for a very long time shifted and cracked inside of him, crumbling into pieces and lifting a great weight off of his chest. He wanted so desperately to rush to fill that now empty space with love and comfort but found himself hesitating. It came from his remaining shame, that stubborn sense of unworthiness and grief that clung to him like a tumor. Despite his college buddy’s reassuring words and affectionate gesture, he found himself still hesitant to accept his forgiveness.

When they separated, Ford cringed with a pained expression, “But how can you say that? After all I’ve done to you? Fiddleford, you saw what I refused to see and when you warned me, I spat in your face.”

Fiddleford patted Ford’s shoulder empathetically. “Well of course, there’s truth ta tha’ but that’s a real harsh way o’ puttin’ it.” He sighed and briefly broke eye contact with his old friend before taking in a deep breath and returning his gaze back to Ford. “But yer not all ta blame here either. I made that damned memory gun an’ put it to my head… I’m ashamed to admit it but I did.”

Stanford slowly shook his head, saying in a low voice, “You wouldn’t have had to use it if I wasn’t-”

Fiddleford raised his arms, silencing Ford mid sentence. “Hush now, Stanferd. I did what I did. I unraveled my own head with no one to blame but maself. An’ I used on ya too, I’hm sorry.” He chuckled weakly, shaking his head.

“You wouldn’t have if you never felt the need to use it, F.” Ford replied so quietly it was barely above a whisper. 

“That don’t excuse it none.” McGucket retorted quickly, crossing his arms. 

“Perhaps not.” Ford mused. “But Bill was so far inside my head I would’ve never listened to you anyways. So you erased my memory. And the memories of the people you hired to help you build the bunker and the portal.”

The old hillbilly furrowed his brows at Ford’s words, gazing intensely at him. “Y-you remember that? You remember me blastin’ ya with mah gun at the bunker?”

Stanford’s expression softened into one of sadness and he found himself mourning his past relationship with his old roommate.  “Unfortunately, yes. At first I thought they were recurring dreams, but then after Bill’s betrayal, I realized they were anything but.”

“Ah.” Fidds nodded slowly, registering the depression in Ford’s body language. He sighed deeply, leaning back on the register and bouncing his leg.“Well as far as I’m concerned, tha’ triangle feller is the Devil himself. He gotcha caught up with tha portal, obsessed with it. While you were doin’ that I was goin’ off fryin’ my own head.” 

With his mouth spread in a thin line, Ford grimaced and opened his mouth to speak but McGucket beat him to it. “But I reckon I’m past all that now an’ you should too. Don’t be apologizin’ to me no more. You said yer piece and I’ve accepted it.”

Ford’s head snapped up to face Fidds, his eyes so wide in surprise he appeared startled. “Y-you can’t just forgive me like that. F, don’t you remember all I’ve done?”

The other scientist cocked his head and gave a smile. “Can’t I? An’ I do, I remember most of it anyhow. So here, I’ll say it again since I think ya need it. Stanferd, I forgive ya.”

Stanford blinked rapidly as F’s words swirled around in his brain, leaving echoes. I forgive ya . That was it, he was really hearing that correctly. Fiddleford was actually telling him that all was gone and forgiven and that he should finally move on. He felt the heaviest of invisible shackles that he had no idea he had even been carrying, allowing them to drag him down, loosen around his wrists and ankles and free him. Suddenly he felt like he could fly without them.

An immense grin spread across Ford’s lips before he even knew it, one that was mirrored by Fiddleford when he saw the light come back into his friend’s eyes. The sweater wearing man placed his hand on his buddy’s shoulder and sincerely stated, “Thank you, Fidds. I forgive you as well.”

“Aw shucks, why thank ya Stanferd.” McGucket smiled, hopping up to sit on the register once more. He chuckled softly to himself and said quietly, “Ya sure have changed lots since ya went into that there portal.”

The other man also took a seat atop the register next to his pal and nodded sagely. “The Multiverse has changed me much, yes. I’ve seen enough things to fill one hundred lifetimes and learned more than one man could ever possibly dream of.”

McGucket elbowed Stanford in the ribs cheekily and smirked, “Well, are ya gonna spill yer secrets or am I gonna hafta get ‘em outta Mabel?”

Ford raised a brow good-naturedly as his grin turned playful and he barked a laugh. “Ha! I thought you’d never ask. Boy do I have some stories for you.”

“Oh really?” Fidds asked sarcastically. “‘Cuz it’s usually gettin’ ya to shut up that’s the trick.” He teased.

The trenchcoated man dismissed the other’s teasing with a wave of his hand. “Oh be quiet so I can talk.”

“I rest my case,” Fiddleford shrugged, “but go on.”

Before long, hours had passed in the gift shop that had felt like minutes as the two nerds began chattering away like nothing had ever gone wrong between them. Ford spent his time recounting some of the tales of his journeys across the Multiverse, some when he was a lone nomad and others when he had Mabel. McGucket informed his friend on just how his family had helped him gain his memories and put himself back together, singing praises to Dipper, Mabel, and Pacifica. They bounced invention ideas and mathematical schematics off of each other like they were in college again sharing a dorm room and over time, Ford felt his remaining shame begin to melt away into something lighter and soft. He recognized it as love that could have only been there because Fiddleford’s forgiveness was there to cast out his long lingering guilt. It was interesting, he thought, that what initially was a fear inducing conversation had turned to something leaving him so full of gratitude.

But since all good things must come to an end, McGucket did eventually have to leave just after the sun had set on the autumn valley. Ever since he had sold his inventions to the government, he had become a busy man that was always coming and going at Washington’s order. It made Ford’s heart swell to see Fiddleford get picked up by a private chauffeur to take him back to his mansion. His friend most definitely deserved it in Ford’s opinion. After waving Fiddleford goodbye from the porch, he turned and walked inside as the night wind billowed his trench coat out behind him.

“So how’s your hillbilly boyfriend?” Stan asked with a smirk as he stood from the couch and stretched.

Ford frowned, “He’s not my boyfriend, Stan. But he’s doing well.” Then he added in a softer tone, one that was a bit anxious, “You could have joined us, y’know.”

His brother shrugged nonchalantly, hiding his true shame. “Eh, I didn’t want to get in your way.” 

Plus if you wanted me there, you should have asked. Stan thought with a tinge of bitterness.

Ford raised his brows at his twin’s response but said nothing of it. That was strange, why on earth would Stan think he would be getting in his way by having a good time with him and his friend? His mind went back to earlier in the day when he had been discussing school and talking to Mabel’s parents with the girl and Stan and was reminded of the silent conversation he had with his brother. Stan seemed upset but he couldn’t figure out why. Just like right now, he was almost certain that Stan was hiding something from him but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Should I ask him what’s wrong? The thought drifted across Ford’s mind and he mentally grabbed it and examined it. That’s what he would have done when he and Stan were children, after all. And since Mabel had recently told him that he had some growing down as opposed to growing up to do, he concluded it would be best to bring it up.

“Hey Stanley, what-”

“Well would you look at the time?” Stan interrupted him, sensing where Ford’s train of thought was headed, “The mall must be closing soon, I gotta go pick up the kids. See you later, Sixer.” 

Ford blinked in surprise before placing his hands on his hips in a dissatisfied manner as he watched Stan put on his coat and open the front door. He managed to get a hand on its edge before his twin could close it and he pulled it open and squeezed himself through onto the porch.

“Stan, you must be crazy if you think you’re not going to take me with you.” Ford announced.

“What, just to the mall? I thought I’d spare ya from the crazy kids.” Stan quipped, appearing much too casual.

The studious man could feel a prick of irritation at his twin’s deflection. Here he was trying to make sure that his brother was actually alright and Stan was doing nothing but run away from his attempt to help him. It was just like he always did, ran and hid like a coward, never taking the blame for anything. 

“No, what is this actually about, Stan?” Ford retorted with folded arms, following his brother down the steps.

“Wha-? What are you talkin’ about?” Stan denied, unlocking the car as the chill air made him shiver.

“I’m talking about this right here!” Ford huffed, gesturing to his brother with an arm outstretched as he entered the passenger side. “You’re being stubborn over nothing, for no reason.”

Stan turned the ignition and rolled his eyes. Apparently Ford was coming with him, which was just exactly what he had not been hoping for. “I’m being stubborn?” Stan shot back. “Look at you, you’re the one who’s being stubborn. So why don’t you just drop it?”

“Drop it? Oh, so there is something going on.” Ford remarked with a slight sneer.

Stan sighed deeply since he knew he’d been caught. He dragged a hand down his face before resting it over the steering wheel and stared ahead of them at the headlight lit dirt road as he grumbled, “Fine… Ford, I jus’... I feel like I don’t know you anymore.”

The snarky retort Ford had been building up in his head died in his throat when his brother’s words hit his ears and a pang of hurting replaced the frustration building in his chest. “...What?”

Stan kept going, shaking his head but keeping his eyes on the road. “We used to be so close. Now lookit us, fighting over nothing. You’ve changed so much I hardly recognize ya anymore.” 

What if I never get to know you on the same level I did before we got torn apart? What if we’ve become too distant? Stan worried in his heart.

The more studious of the twins rested his elbow against the door and his chin on his hand while his other sat in his lap. “While it is true, I have seen much change in myself, I fail to see why that’s a reason to worry. Would you care to enlighten me?” Ford responded carefully.

Stan struggled to find the words to throw his brother off of his scent. He couldn’t have Ford knowing he feared messing things up between them again or that he agonized over being a burden to his twin. “It’s… that I just missed you a whole lot. An’ it’s obvious there’s a lotta your life I’ve missed out on.” Stan dictated as a half-truth. While he did miss his brother dearly, that wasn’t what he was upset over now.

“You and I both, Stan.” Ford muttered regretfully. “But there’s no time like the present to make up for lost time.” He stated with a cautious smile.

Stan nodded with a smile tugging at his lips. That was good, he’d successfully thrown Sixer off his trail. “Yeah, I guess you’re right you ol’ sap.”

“Me? A sap? Hardly.” Ford responded in a dignified manner.

“Don’t lie to me Poindexter, I’ve seen you around Mabel.” Stan snorted, running a red light.

Ford looked behind them out the window up at the traffic light and then spun around in his seat to glare at his brother. “Stanley, you just ran that red.”

His brother dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “Is that so ‘Mr. I-can’t-drive’? And don’t let that distract you from the fact that you’re the biggest sap outta both of us.” He teased, “I betcha you tucked Mabel into bed every night and read her a story out in the Multi-whatever.”

“Ha!” Ford laughed triumphantly, “As if that’s supposed to be an insult. I bet you Mabel thinks I’m her favorite grunkle.”

“Yeh, ‘cuz you’re so sappy you’re just oozing it.” Stan smirked, making a left turn from the right lane and cutting off a minivan.

“Is that so?” Ford tested, ignoring the van’s blaring horn, “Well I know I wasn’t the one who adopted Ms. Northwest as one of my own and welcomed her into my home.” 

“Hey now, give me some credit. Don’t forget about Soos and Wendy too.” Stan grinned. 

Stanford’s mention of Pacifica brought the brief conversation he had with her early that morning back to his mind. She had been worrying over Bill and why he hadn’t appeared in her dreams and had asked him to talk to his brother on the matter. The light-hearted atmosphere in the cabin of the car abruptly felt a lot heavier to him.

“See? You’re much sappier than I am.” Ford nodded stiffly as if Stan’s last statement alone proved his point.

“Heh, heh, yeah.” Stan half-heartedly chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. “Hey Sixer, there’s something I just remembered I gotta talk to you about.”

“What is it?” He asked, his smug grin transforming to a serious expression.

“Well I was talkin’ to Pacifica this mornin’ and she let me know that she was worried since y’know, she didn’t have Bill in her head last night. She wanted me to ask ya what you thought of it.”

His twin’s face darkened like that of a thunderstorm upon hearing the demon’s name and Stan couldn’t help but pray that his brother wouldn’t blow this information out of proportion. Heck, he knew how much of a threat Bill was and took the devil quite seriously, but he hated putting a damper on the overall good mood of things at the moment. 

“I have the same concern. I fully expected him to make an appearance in my mind while I slept but he never showed. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Bill, it’s that if he’s gone quiet then that means he’s scheming.” Ford growled.

“Oh. Great.” Stan said sarcastically.

Stanford’s eyes were stormy as he continued, “He’s still out there watching us, no doubt. Biding his time, regathering his forces. I have to say that our family put quite a damper on his plans.”

“Whadda ya mean? Like I get that McGucket’s Dimensional Vortex Neutralizer thingy sucked for him but what about you and Mabel?” Stan inquired, making a lane change and miraculously remembering to use his blinker.

With all the theatrics of a broadway singer, Ford brought the tips of his fingers together and explained, “Cipher never expected for Mabel to make it back here. He was betting that if he couldn’t get through the portal himself, he would take her hostage and use her as blackmail to get us to make a rash decision ending with him crossing the border into our world.”

“Wait-” Stan gasped, staring at his brother and nearly steering them into a ditch, “I think I remember Bill saying something like that. When we were in the blonde’s mindscape.”

“That was about a week ago, yes?” Ford asked.

“Yeah.” Stan mused, pulling up to the curb in front of the mall. 

Mabel, Dipper, Pacifica, Candy, and Grenda were all squished together on one bench, chatting away like nothing was wrong in the world as several bags full of merchandise lay scattered at their feet. Stan honked his horn as he pulled up to the curb and Dipper and Pacifica waved as Mabel bolted out of her seat and began swiftly gathering bags of her newly owned clothes and makeup. Candy and Grenda gave their last goodbyes to the trio and headed off to their own car, since the glasses wearing girl had already turned sixteen that year and had her own vehicle.

The sweater clad girl zoomed into the car in a flurry of bags and boxes and began speaking at rapid speed, completely oblivious to the conversation her grunkles had been having just moments earlier. She was soon followed by Dipper and Pacifica, who took a much more civilized approach to entering the vehicle.

“Hey pumpkin, didja have fun?” Stan asked Mabel, turning around in his seat so he could see her properly.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” She beamed.

As Stan peeled it out of the parking lot, Ford felt the revving of the engine and the force of the acceleration on his body and feared his brother would end up with a ticket, praying the law in Gravity Falls was still as inept as he remembered. But his mind lingered on their topic of conversation. Pacifica was right to be concerned about Cipher and he couldn’t help but feel the same way as she did. But was he just being paranoid? The portal was safe beneath the mystery shack and Cipher couldn’t get through unless someone were to break the Dimensional Vortex Neutralizer attached to it and turn on the portal. 

I wouldn’t have to worry if I dismantled the portal. The thought came to him and he found himself resisting it. A part of him was still hesitant to destroy it and he wasn’t sure why.

“Grunkle Ford, look what I got!” Mabel squealed, shaking a jar full of bulky sequins in his face.

The glittery things filling his vision, combined with his great-niece’s voice, broke him from his thoughts and he told her, “Those are very nice, dear. Are you going to attach them to the sweater you’ve been making?”

Mabel gasped loudly. “That’s such a good idea, Grunkle Ford! They can be the stars on my sweater!” 

“Oh, what sweater are you making, Mabel?” Pacifica asked.

Mabel smiled at the other girl like she had been hoping she would ask that very question all day. “Why, a Multiverse sweater of course! It’s blue and going to have sequin stars with a pink and purple galaxy in the middle.”

“That’s great girl.” Pacifica complimented.

“I know! It’ll look just dazzling with this skirt I got… If I can find it.” Mabel chirped, beginning to look through her many bags that took up the entire floor space in the back.

The blonde looked over to give her boyfriend a smile and maybe a smooch and discovered that he was staring nervously down at his cell phone in his hands, open to his messaging app. She placed her hand on his wrist and the action made him jump and his eyes went wide and his gaze snapped to her with fear. 

She furrowed her brows, asking him the silent question of what was the matter and he slid the phone over to her. It was a text thread between him and his mother and the final message sent was from his mom just minutes ago. It read, ‘Hi honey, just checking in on you. How are you doing? How are things there?'

Dipper whispered to his girlfriend, “What do I say? I can’t just tell her we got Mabel back. But I can’t lie to her either.”

“Then don’t.” Pacifica whispered back. “This is something that needs to be told in person.”

“Aha!” Mabel cheered, “I found it. Wouldn’t it just look so cute with this sweater?” She prodded, holding up a royal blue skirt fashioned with lines of glittering sequins. Her smile faltered though when she registered the anxious energy on Dipper’s face and the concern on Pacifica’s.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” She questioned, letting the skirt fall to her lap.

Dipper shook his head like he had let her down and he lamented, “Mabel, we haven’t told mom and dad about you yet. I can’t believe I could forget something like that. I’m so sorry.”

Well, damnit. It seemed as though her time spent running was up. Now she had to face the first big hurdle of being home and figure out how to explain to her parents that she was still alive without putting all of Gravity Falls at risk. No distraction could turn this conversation around anymore and took all the festive-like joy right out of her.

Mabel gave a nervous chuckle. “No bro-bro, it’s not your fault. I’ve been trying to avoid talking about that all day, actually. Surprise…” She winced, throwing in some weak jazz-hands for effect. 

Pacifica appeared puzzled. “Wait really? Why? No offense.”

“It’s ok.” Mabel sighed. She really wanted Grunkle Ford to step in and do the talking for her but when she glanced at him, he was facing forward but Mabel could tell he was listening. So she kicked his seat, which did the trick and he turned around to look at her.

“Yes Mabel?” He asked in a questioning tone.

“Grunkle Ford, can you tell them why I haven’t wanted to talk about it?”

He blinked at her owlishly. “I can’t read your mind, Mabel.” He said simply.

Gah! Grunkle Ford wasn’t helping. It made her feel like a terrible person to be apprehensive about revealing herself to her parents and she wanted Grunkle Ford to step in and tell them it was because the fate of Gravity Falls was at stake and that’s why she’d been avoiding talking to them. Now Dipper was upset thinking he’d done her wrong by not thinking of it sooner and Pacifica was confused as to why she wasn’t excited to reunite with them.

Mabel glanced away, rubbing her arm uncomfortably. “Well Paz, it’s that I don’t know what’s going to happen. Part of me feels horrible for putting this off, but the other part of me thinks it’s keeping us safe.” She gestured around vaguely in the vehicle. “I mean, what are we even supposed to say? That Grunkle Ford built an interdimensional portal for a demon that leads to Hell and we got sucked inside? That’s crazy, we can’t say that. Even if we keep the details just vague enough, what do we do if they decide to take my story to the news? We’d have people showing up to Gravity Falls in droves and putting the town and the portal at risk.”

Pacifica placed a hand on Mabel’s shoulder to reassure her. “Oh hun, that doesn't make you a terrible person. If anything, I think that’s actually a really smart thing to think.”

“We can get through this, Mabel.” Dipper offered as comfort. “We have each other. I think if we put all our heads together, we can come up with something good to tell mom and dad that doesn’t put the town in danger.”

Dipper’s phone pinged again and the text from their mom read, ‘I’m going to video chat you.’ Peeking over Pacifica’s and Dipper’s shoulder, she could make out her brother replying frantically, ‘Hang on a minute, I’ll call you.'

Mabel sighed. It seemed like movie night was about to be postponed.

“Mom wants to video chat with me.” Dipper announced to everyone in the car with much anxiety.

“Tell her not now.” Stan grumbled.

“I did!” Dipper fretted.

“Video chat?” Ford questioned.

“Oh my gosh!” Mabel worried. “She can’t do that. Dipper, throw your phone out the window.” 

Dipper held his cell at arms length away from his sister just in case she decided to make a lunge for it and actually attempt to dispose of it. His assumption was correct because in the next second, she was reaching across Pacifica to try and snatch the device from his hands with an anxious frown.

“Hey, hey,” Stan barked, “everybody just calm down for a minute. We’ll talk this through, ok?”

Mabel stopped trying to steal her brother’s phone and sat back down in her seat but the fear didn’t leave her face.

Ford nodded in agreement at his brother’s advice. “I have to agree with Stanley on this, panicking will get us nowhere. Although, I feel like I’d be more helpful if I knew what a video chat even was.”

Pacifica was the one to enlighten Stanford and she informed, “Video chatting is like a phone call but there’s a camera involved so you can see the people who you’re talking to on your phone screen and vice versa.”

Ford hummed in thought with this newfound information. “I see, this does complicate things then. Mabel and I cannot be seen by her parents until our story is sound.”

“Why can’t we just try telling them the truth?” Pacifica suggested as she rested her head on Dipper’s tense shoulder. 

“Hey-hey, we are telling the truth, blondie. We’re just omitting most of the unimportant details.” Stan countered, gazing at her through the rear view mirror.

Dipper adjusted his pine tree cap and asked, “Then how much can we even say? Obviously we can’t say anything about Bill but where do we stop?” 

Mabel thought back to the way Candy and Grenda had questioned her, wanting answers on how she had abruptly come back into their lives. It made uneasiness squirm in her gut. There was a lot at stake and saying something wrong to them could have put the portal at risk. She had to wonder if mom and dad would be the same way.

She stated, “Well for the sake of simplicity I think it would be best to keep my story and Grunkle Ford’s as one big one instead of trying to separately come up with two alternative ones about what happened to us.”

“Yeah and since you both came back at the same time, that would track.” Dipper agreed.

“Then how do we explain me fakin’ my death and taking on Ford’s name? As far as your folks are concerned, I’m dead.” Stan brought up, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

“Maybe you did it to avoid raising any suspicion in town?” Pacifica tried.

From the driver’s seat, Stan rubbed his chin in thought and said slowly, “Yeah, we were talkin’ about this a little bit earlier and Mabel brought up a pretty good lie. Somethin’ about Ford working for the government, right?”

“Yes, that is correct.” Ford affirmed. “In this hypothetical, I work for the government studying the paranormal. I was sucked into a naturally occuring portal and so was Mabel. Then we were returned to Gravity Falls at precisely the same time.”

“Hey, that’s good.” Stan complimented, a grin forming on his face. “An’ then I faked my death and took on your name to continue your work and smooth things over.”

“Technically none of that is a lie. Except for the government part.” Mabel chirped.

Dipper leaned his head against his girlfriend’s and fretted, “But can we have mom and dad worrying over us falling into random portals like Mabel did in this half-truth we’re telling them?”

“That’s why I vote we should just tell them what happened.” Pacifica voiced. “All these lies and fabricated stories are giving me a headache. I’m sick of them.”

Ford sighed and leaned his head back on the seat rest. “I wish it were that simple Pacifica, I really do. This is a delicate situation, one that requires as few eyes to be on it as possible. Telling Mabel and Dipper’s parents the truth could get word out about the true nature of Gravity Falls.” Ford glanced at Stan as he said his next words and continued, “Unfortunately, people talk. Their parents cannot be trusted to keep everything a secret. We cannot know how they’ll react.”

“Hey, what’re you lookin’ at me for?” Stan protested, glaring at his brother and almost steering the car into oncoming traffic. 

Ford rolled his eyes and retorted, “Well Stanley, when I went through the portal only you and I knew of it. Now everyone in this car as well as several others are all aware of its existence.”

Pacifica sighed and snuggled further into Dipper’s side and responded defeatedly. “I guess you have a point, Ford.”

As Stan turned up the dirt road leading to the Mystery Shack, Mabel rested her head against that back of Ford’s seat and let the bumpiness of the unpaved path vibrate through her. “So are we going with the story that Ford worked for the government and we got sucked into random portals then?” She inquired with a jittery voice.

“Sounds good to me.” Stan approved.

“Yes well, that still begs the question Dipper so aptly brought up, are these portals in this story still around and furthermore, what did Mabel and I experience on the other side?”

“Aw, damnit.” Mabel lamented, picking her head up and letting it fall against the seat. “I can’t tell mom and dad the things I did in the Multiverse. Or that there even is one.”

Dipper gave his sister a sympathetic look before speaking, “Well to answer the first part of your question Great Uncle Ford, we can tell mom and dad that people live here and go about their lives without ever knowing about or getting sucked into the weird portals. You and Mabel could just be two rare, freak instances that coincidentally happened to two family members.”

“Yeah, but will they buy it?” Pacifica worried.

“They’ll have to.” Stan grumbled.

Stan parked the car outside the shack and stepped out into the chilly night. Dipper opened his door and held out his hand for Pacifica, who gladly took it. Mabel was still busy groaning over how she was going to explain her two years of being in another universe when Ford opened the door for her.

“Come on, dear.” He tried, gracing her with a reassuring smile.

Mabel only gave him a tired look of frustration in response but reluctantly gathered her bags and scooted out of the car. Her mood had managed to turn upside down over the course of the car ride home and now she was dreading speaking with her parents more than ever. A part of her still yearned to be with them again but things were just so different now she wasn’t sure if that was even the best thing.

Mabel sighed, “I wish things could just be normal.”

“Yes, well, we are in Gravity Falls. It’s far from normal here.” Ford responded, placing a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.

“I know that Grunkle Ford, It’s just that…” She gestured vaguely with her hands despite the several bags that hung off of each arm, struggling to finish her sentence.

As they started their walk up the steps, Pacifica supplied, “Things are the wrong flavor of weird?”

“Exactly!” Mabel cried, pointing intensely at her.

“Yeah I get that sister.” The blonde smiled with understanding.

As Mabel struggled to juggle all her new belongings, she dropped a shoebox on the porch and she went to pick it up but Dipper got there first and took it in his arms. Their gazes met and he studied her face for a moment in contemplation before she saw something click into place in his head.

“Hey Mabel,” Dipper began, “could you say it felt almost instant for you when you went through the portal? Like you and Ford blacked out and then you were back here in what was instantaneous for you but had actually been two years?”

Mabel’s eyes went up to the porch overhang in thought and as Stan unlocked the door, he pointed out, “But her hair has been cut and she looks older. Heck, Ford’s got gray hair. That don’t happen overnight.”

“Perhaps we physically aged despite it feeling like an instantaneous trip to us.” Ford reasoned, holding out his arms and offering to take some of Mabel’s things that threatened to escape her grasp. The girl shook her head and turned away from him, determined to carry her stuff inside on her own.

The family of five moved inside the shack and Mabel made a beeline to the attic to plop all her bags on her bed. “I think that could maybe work.” She agreed as she jogged up the stairs.

Dipper followed her and placed the shoebox at the foot of her bed just as he got another text from their mom. ‘Is everything ok?’

“What did she say now?” Mabel inquired, feeling her worry intensify.

“She just wants to know if everything is okay.” Dipper informed her with an anxiety laced voice, holding the door open for her as they left the room.

“I guess that’s for her and dad to decide.” She shrugged, trying to stay cool and calm.

Her brother tapped away on his cellular device for ten seconds or so as they descended the stairs and made their way to the rest of the family in the living room, informing his mother, ‘For the most part. I’m grabbing a laptop so we can chat better and you probably should too. Is dad home?’

“Stan, where did you put the laptop?” Dipper prodded after looking on top of and behind the TV and finding nothing.

Pacifica was the one to answer. “Oh, it’s in my backpack, I was using it for homework.” She uncrossed her legs where she sat on the carpet and walked briskly to the kitchen.

Sitting at the table on the far side of the room, Ford appeared puzzled. “Laptop? You mean those actually took off?”

From the sinking yellow couch, Stan cracked open a beer and snorted. “Yeah Sixer, they’re everywhere now. Welcome to the future.”

“Huh, fascinating…” Ford mused.

“So I assume we’re havin’ a chat with mom and dad then?” Stan asked Dipper.

The two teenage twins nodded apprehensively and Mabel sighed, “Yeah.” Then she said to herself, “You can do this, Mabel. You got this.”

She gambled a glance at Ford, who had stopped thinking about the spread of everyday personal computers in the world and was now appearing quite nervous himself. Mabel made her way over to him and wrapped him in a hug, partially to comfort him and partially to comfort herself.

“Ok, where am I setting this thing up?” Pacifica questioned as she returned with the laptop.

As if on cue, Dipper’s phone dinged again and he informed the rest of them, “It looks like they’re both home and ready to go whenever. But dad can’t talk for too long since he has an early flight to catch tomorrow.”

“The table should work out jus’ fine.” Stan stated as he got to his feet and went over to the rounded wooden table Ford and Mabel were sat at. The young couple followed and Pacifica got right to work setting up the video call now that everyone was in one place.

Mabel took Ford by the hand as butterflies flew around in her gut and brought the two of them to the other side of the table and away from the computer’s camera. “Hang on, it might not be a good idea for us to be in frame at first. Maybe you should break the news to them easily…” She faltered, feeling very unprepared for the coming moment.

Pacifica gave her friend a kind smile. “Good idea Mabel.” Then to the rest of her family, “Ok we’re ready to go, we just gotta call ‘em. Is everybody ready?” 

“Yup.” Stan dictated.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Dipper winced.

Mabel nodded anxiously with her lip twisted with fear and she squeezed Ford’s hand. He squeezed her’s back.

“I have to agree with Dipper, but yes.” Ford sighed nervously.

The blonde took in a deep breath and clicked the ‘call’ button on the screen and waited uneasily in front of the camera with Dipper and Stan right behind her, trying her best to smile. The line rang once, twice, and then the other end picked up. Dipper and Mabel’s parents were sitting at their kitchen table, smiling brightly as their grainy faces came into focus.

“Hi mom, hi dad.” Dipper waved nervously.

“Hi Dip, hey Paz, hi Stan.” His dad responded.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. Pines.” Pacifica greeted politely as Stan nodded and grunted his hello.

“Dipper honey, how are you?” His mom inquired.

“Good. I-I’m good.” He gulped and rubbed his arm nervously. “Hey look guys, there’s something we need to tell you.”

He felt Stan place a hand on his shoulder and it helped him to feel just confident enough to keep talking. “Y-you know how Mabel disappeared?” He paused and saw his parents’ faces become laced with concern. “Well we just found her.” Dipper spilled the news quickly, as if the words were on fire and he needed to get them out of his mouth as quickly as possible.

“What? Where is she?” His dad demanded.

“Really?” His mom cried, bringing a hand to her chest.

“Turn the camera around.” Stan grunted and Pacifica did just that, showing the two parents a clear view of Mabel and Ford.

“Mabel!” Her mom exclaimed, covering her mouth.

“Mabel?!” Her dad gasped. “And… Stanley?”

Stan came running around to face the camera and clarified, holding one of Ford’s hands up before he could protest, “Nope, I’m Stanley see? We found Stanford too actually.” 

“H-hello Mr. and Mrs. Pines.” Ford winced awkwardly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“I-Mabel, what happened? Are you safe?” Her mother pressed as her eyes wettened. 

“Mom! Dad! Hi!” Mabel smiled, a deep longing that had ached in her bones finally coming to a rest. “Oh man you guys are a sight for sore eyes. I’m okay!” She was indescribably overjoyed to see her parents’ faces again and she wished she could reach through the screen and hug both of them. But a part of her was still worrying away, hoping they wouldn’t react too negatively to the story they had planned.

Her dad went on, “I’m so happy you’re safe, Mabel.” He paused. “But, I- what is going on? How are you here? And how is Stanley alive?”

Stan cleared his throat and started, “Ok look, this is all gonna sound crazy but you gotta believe us. So clear back thirty two years ago…”

Stan told them the tale they had all worked to fabricate in the car ride home from the mall with expert con man confidence. Dipper and Pacifica came around to face the camera as Stan gave them the calculated half-truth and the family all listened together. Whenever the occasional concern from the parents came up, like their worry about the overall safety of the town and if the portals had harmed her or Ford in any way, the family worked together to dismiss them and reassure them that everything was fine. When Stan had finally finished with his words, the parents on the other side of the screen were silent in contemplation. The Pines at the Mystery Shack held their collective breath, hoping they would buy it.

After several agonizing seconds of silence, Mr. Pines slowly shook his head and mumbled, “A portal, I can’t believe it.” As he tried to come to terms with the information he’d been given.

Mabel’s mother tearstrickenly whispered, “You get to finally come home now. Both of you do.”

Uh-oh. Dipper tried and failed to hold back a wince and Ford felt Mabel stiffen in his arms and a defensive smile crossed her face. Pacifica, despite a javelin of distress shattering her ceramic heart, kept her cool. Stan and Ford gave each other a worried glance.

Mrs. Pines saw the less than happy looks on her childrens’ faces and her face crumpled, “Unless, you don’t want to?”

“Mom, dad, you should come visit us instead.” Mabel tried nervously. It was strange to try to view them as her guardians once more. For over two years now, Ford had been the one and only person who was capable of disciplining her and even then, his punishments hadn’t even been needed all that often since she had grown to be more mature and self reliant than she would have ever thought. But legally, she knew they had a say over whether she came or went in Gravity Falls whether she felt like they did or not. 

“Of course we want to see you.” Dipper said quickly. “But mom, we love it here. I’ve been living here for over two years and all my friends and Mabel’s friends are here, not in Piedmont.”

Mr. Pines finally broke his silence. “Mabel, what do you think?”

Mabel took in a deep breath, trying and only half way succeeding in calming her nerves because she knew the next thing she said could determine if she and Dipper would have to leave Gravity Falls. It was at that moment she realized that if they were to leave, she would have to leave Ford and it made her heart squeeze. “Um, Gravity Falls is my home. I like it here better than Piedmont. There’s so much fresh air up here and I’m around my Grunkles and my friends. I really don’t want to leave.”

Dipper added, “You should keep looking for homes up here. That way we can all be together.”

His mom rubbed her temples frustratedly and stated, “Believe me, we are. But everything got so much more expensive right when we were looking to move back in August.”

Pacifica couldn’t help but scowl at Mrs. Pines words. August had been when her parents had split and since the Northwest family had practically a monopoly on most of the land and housing market in Gravity Falls, she knew her dad had gone out of his way to raise the prices and increase the rent on everything. Probably out of spite she reasoned, since she didn’t actually know anything about housing markets. But she did know her stupid dad was keeping Dipper and Mabel’s parents from living here with them and it made her furious.

Mr. and Mrs. Pines shared a contemplative look with one another, having a silent conversation, before the woman spoke for the two of them. “Can we speak about this privately for a minute?”

“Sure, take your time.” Stan said in his gravelly voice.

The two left their kitchen and as soon as they were out of frame, Pacifica spoke up, “I think it’s going well so far.”

Dipper scooted closer to her wrapped her in a side hug for comfort, much like Mabel was currently doing to Ford. He exhaled shakily and fussed, “I’m still freaking out though. I really don’t want them to decide we have to go home.”

With an arm around Mabel, Ford retorted, “All things considered, they’ve appeared to have taken the news considerably well.”

“What are you saying?” Mabel asked.

“I’m saying I don’t believe you’ll be leaving.” He clarified.

“An’ even if you do,” Stan comforted, “we’ll still come visit ya all the time.”

Pacifica couldn’t help but worry where she fell amongst this whole discussion, legally not being a Pines and all, but Mr. and Mrs. Pines returned before she had a chance to voice her concerns privately with the group.

“We’ve come to a decision,” Mr. Pines was saying, “Dipper, Mabel, we’re going to let you stay in Gravity Falls.”

A series of whoops and yells of excitement erupted at the table in the Mystery Shack and Dipper and Mabel gave each other a high five. But that wasn’t quite enough for the girl and she leapt from her seat and picked her twin up and twirled him around in the air.

“We’ll come and visit as soon as we can though.” He finished.

Mrs. Pines looked down at her phone and frowned. “Oh, I just got called into work. We had a nurse go home sick.”

Mr. Pines huffed, “Now that you mention it, I should be getting to bed too.” Then he stated, “Stanford, it’s been a pleasure getting to know the real you. I’m terribly sorry for what happened to you and my daughter.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Pines. And thank you.” Ford said with an uneasy smile. He wondered glumly if the man would still think the same after he got the chance to speak with him for more than fifteen minutes and actually get to know him. 

Mabel’s mother gazed lovingly at her, “I love you tons, honey. Dipper and Paz, we love you too. We’ll come to visit soon, ‘kay?”

Her dad smiled, “Once I get back we can drive up and actually see you in person. Maybe we can take a look around at some of the houses for sale.”

“That sounds nice.” Mabel affirmed. “Love you guys.”

Dipper reached over and ended the call and leaned back in his chair as he breathed out an enormous sigh of relief, rubbing his eyes. “Whew. I’m glad we don’t have to leave Gravity Falls.”

“See, it’s jus’ like I thought. Everything went fine and there’s nothing we need to worry about.” Stan beamed, ruffling Mabel’s hair.

Mabel felt like a huge weight she had been holding onto all day had flown away, overjoyed that her fears had ultimately been for nothing. “Yeah! Everything is great and we’re perfectly safe.” She nuzzled into Ford’s side and said into his sweater, “Man it was good to see mom and dad again.”

“I’ll admit, that went better than I thought it would.” Ford said, finally relaxing.

Pacifica nodded in agreement and closed the laptop. “Yeah, me too.”

Mabel glanced at the clock and it read only ten P.M. “Hey, we still have plenty of time to have a movie night.”

“Oh, that could be fun.” Pacifica chirped.

“Wait Paz, don’t you have work in the morning?” Dipper asked.

“No, I got the weekend off, remember?” She grinned.

“Yeah, so it’s movie time! C’mon people, grab your blankets and snacks.” Mabel cheered.

The family got right to work turning the family room into the coziest spot in the house with blankets, pillow, popcorn, soda, and any other snacks that were lying around the house. While Dipper and Pacifica gathered a sizable pile of movies for Ford to watch at Mabel’s command, the sweater wearing girl was busy constructing a blanket fort with her grunkles, just to the side of the old couch. She named it Fort Mabel and charged a five dollar entry fee to the young couple that wanted to enter since they didn’t aid in its construction. Eventually after twenty minutes of arguing, the five settled for watching Sun Battles: The Radiantkatana Masters Come Back , because Ford hadn’t been able to watch the last movie in the original trilogy since being out in the Multiverse. As the film went on and it became later in the evening, the family’s rambunctious energy died down and they were able to silently enjoy the entertainment and each other’s company. Then another film was chosen, one Mabel was too sleepy at this point to remember the name of, and she and the others eventually fell asleep to the soothing sounds of the television.

Chapter Text

The gentle rumble of late night thunder from November rain was all it took to make Stanford bolt upright on the crimson couch in his room in a cold sweat. He was on full alert, frozen in place and listening for danger, his eyes surveying the room for any lurking threats. His hand curled around the place where his blaster was supposed to be holstered but it closed around empty air and made a bolt of anxiety strike through him. Where was his blaster? His gaze darted around the room once, then twice in quick succession and a chill went up his spine when he realized Mabel was also nowhere to be found. It wasn’t like her to go sneaking off in the night, she always slept near him since it was safer for both of them that way. That could only mean one thing, she was in danger. 

Completely forgetting that he always safely stored his guns away in the drawer of his nightstand near the couch, Ford slipped on his boots and took the alien dagger from inside his right shoe. He silently opened the door and swiftly ascended the steps as quiet as a stalking lion while his heart beat out of his chest, keeping his eyes peeled for the girl all the way.

“Mabel? Mabel, where are you?” He whispered as he slipped through the shadows down the oddly familiar hallway.

Why did he recognize this place? Had he somehow been to this dimension before? And where had Mabel gone? Moving from one patch of darkness to the next, he made it into a living room of some sort and his eyes fell on a stray ball of yarn on the floor, empty snack packages on the table, and the ever dwindling pile of movies near the TV he had been catching up on with his family. His family, wait a minute… Then it all came back to him in a colorful flash. He wasn’t in some distant dimension where Mabel had gone missing at all, he was home and she was sleeping upstairs.

With a frustrated huff, he turned and walked back to his room. This was the third night in a row and the fifth time in total he had done this. So what was wrong with him? Didn’t his head know that he and Mabel were logically back safe and sound on Earth? He grumbled to himself as he descended the stairs, wondering why his uneasiness had still stuck with him even after all this time. It had been three weeks since he and Mabel had gotten back and yet his mind was still stuck in Multiverse mode. Mabel had managed to move on just fine, so why couldn’t he do the same? Why was he still jumping at every little noise and keeping his blaster close at all times and waking up in the night in a cold sweat thinking his beloved great-niece was in danger or terrified that Cipher had made it through to this world? His mind clearly thought there was still a danger lurking around some dark corner or he would’ve relaxed by now. It was the same portion of his mind that made him hesitant to dismantle the portal. It was still down there in that foreboding, earthen basement, switched off but always on standby, ready to be reactivated at a moment’s notice.

Laying down on his rose red couch, he ran a hand down his face, lamenting over how out of place he still felt on Earth. He had spent half his life on this planet so why was it suddenly so difficult to just relax and enjoy the time he had with his family? He cared for each and every one of them dearly and felt much guilt at feeling stuck in between places, like he had fallen through the gap while trying to step from one life chapter to the next. He told himself that he was throwing their love away. He should be happy, not left ruminating over what was past and dead. But yet, he couldn’t help but feel homesick as he gazed at the starry sky through the window, wishing he was out there with them instead of being stuck with his boots to the ground.

Ford awoke just as the sun had climbed up and over the mountains and a delicious smell hit his nose that immediately cast the sleepiness from his brain and got him quickly to his feet. After a quick shave with fire, he made his way up the same steps he just had a few hours prior. In the kitchen, Mabel was chatting with someone on Dipper’s phone as she flipped a piece of french toast in a pan and Ford caught part of her conversation as he filled a mug with coffee nearby. 

“I know mom. You and dad really gotta try and come visit again soon because it wasn’t enough the first time. I mean c’mon, four days? Are you cheaping out on me after thinking I was dead for two years?” She chuckled a few seconds later after her mother said something he didn’t catch and she playfully poked Pacifica with her spatula, who was manning pans of sausage and hashbrowns beside her, and handed her the phone.

As he sat down at the kitchen table across from Stan, he was surprised to discover that Waddles had made himself at home underneath the furniture and took up most of the leg room. The pig oinked curiously at the newcomer, sniffed his muddy boots, and began to lick them clean. Ford rolled his eyes but didn’t bother to move his feet, his shoes were always dirty anyways.

“Nice of you to join us on such a fine Saturday morning.” Stan said, putting down the newspaper.

“I wouldn’t call it fine, there’s a pig eating my shoe.” Ford responded.

“Hey, Waddles! Bad piggie, bad.” Mabel chastised her pet, slapping the spatula against the stovetop. When the animal gave no sign of having heard her at all, she grabbed a chunk of unused potato off a close by cutting board and called, “Here Waddles, come get a tasty potato you big fatso.”

The pig responded much better to the promise of food and rattled the table as he stood out from under it, nearly spilling Ford’s coffee all over him in the process. He took the root vegetable from Mabel’s palm, coating her hand in slobber as he did so, and swallowing the treat in one bite.

“Eugh, you’re nasty Waddles.” Mabel grimaced, holding up her pig spit covered hand. Then she lovingly added as she kissed the top of his head, “You’re such a fatass.”

Pacifica daintily covered the speaker of the phone before quipping, “Mabel, are you sure you’re not actually talking to Stan?”

Ford started laughing so hard he nearly choked on his coffee and was having great difficulty not spitting it out onto the table while his twin shot him a glare.

Stan stood out of his seat and approached Pacifica, feigning anger while he told her, “Awright missy, you’ve just lost your cooking privileges.” He turned to Mabel and instructed, “Mabel, you better wash your hands before doing anything else. The last thing I want to do today is eat pig spit.”

As Pacifica giggled along with Ford, Mabel gave Stan a salute with her spatula and yelled, “Yes sir Mr. Grunkle Stan, sir.” She handed him her kitchen utensil and skipped over to the kitchen sink.

“Oh, it’s nothing Mrs. Pines. We’re just having a laugh.” Pacifica said into the phone as she held her spatula out of arm's reach of Stan, who was trying to take over the cooking for both of them.

Now that he had finally composed himself, Ford inquired of Mabel, “Is your brother awake yet?”

Mabel dried her now clean hands on a ratty dish towel, one that Ford recognized he owned clear back in the 80’s, and shrugged, “No, he’s really sleeping in.” She cocked her head at him and resumed, “Which so did you today. That’s not very like you at all.”

Ford nodded, taking another sip of his hot beverage, “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

Or the two before that. Or in general since I’ve been here, really. He thought.

“Huh, well I’m sure breakfast will wake you up.” Mabel chirped as she went back to the stove, swiped her spatula out of Stan’s hand as he was busy trying to reach for Pacifica’s, and flipped a slice of french toast over in the pan before adding a new one. 

Stan took his spatula being stolen from him in stride and used the now free hand to finally grab the kitchen utensil out of Pacifica’s hand and let out a triumphant whoop. The blonde girl hung up her phone and ducked underneath Stan, sassing, “You’ve stolen a spatula from a fifteen year old girl, you must be so proud.”

“Yeah you bet I am. No more cooking for you this mornin’.” Stanley quipped back as he flipped the hashbrowns.

Waddles followed Pacifica over to the table, where she sat diagonally across from Ford, and the pig tried to lick her fingers clean. “Ugh, Mabel get your pig out of here.” She grimaced, pulling her hands away.

Mabel stacked the ever growing pile of finished french toast higher on a plate. “Aw, but he likes you.” She defended, picking the plate up and walking the breakfast tower over to the table. 

The pig saw her carrying food in her arms and made it his mission to get some, headbutting her and causing the stack of deliciousness to topple over and send several slices of french toast to the tile floor. He immediately dove for the fallen calories and inhaled them before anyone could take them from him.

“Right now please, Mabel.” Ford instructed.

“Get that pig out.” Stan said at the same time. 

The two brothers shared a look and then both began chuckling simultaneously. 

“Hoo-boy, I sure do love that two-for-one discipline I get from you guys.” Mabel sighed as she set the plate down and then got behind her pig and began pushing him towards the back door.

“Twins, am I right Mabel?” Pacifica smirked.

“Yeah.” Mabel dryly chuckled as she led Waddles out of the room.

With a yawn, Dipper blearily stepped into the kitchen with his hair still a mess and asked, “What’d I miss?”

Pacifica came to his side and gave him a good morning kiss on the cheek. “Nothing much, hun. Breakfast is almost ready.”

“Oh, well alright.” He said sleepily and sat at the table.

A moment later, Mabel came running back into the room yelling, “Ohmygosh! I just had the best idea ever!” She slammed her fists down on the table excitedly, only pausing briefly to squeal, “Good morning Dipper,” before announcing to the whole room, “and you’ll never guess what it is.”

Stan turned to look over his shoulder at the girl and deadpanned, “You’re right, we won’t. So tell us what it is.”

She started with a grin, “Ok ok, you’re totally not gonna believe this…” 

“Chairs?” Stan read.

“Check.” Ford nodded.

“Blankets?”

“Check.”

“Marshmallows?”

“Check.”

“Bill Cipher memorabilia that we’re going to burn as firewood?” 

“Check.” Ford growled, lifting a tub full of splintered paintings and old books full of his writings on the demon and carrying it up the steps and into the RV.

Over breakfast the previous day, it turned out that Mabel had the wonderful idea of going on a camping trip to get some quality bonding time with the rest of the family. Since no one voiced any complaints or concerns on the matter, it was made official and preparations had begun right away. Now on a crisp November evening, Stan and Ford were busy packing up the RV and making any final adjustments before they would head off to the one and only Gravity Falls Campground.

“Ok, what’re we missin’ still? There must be something.” Stan thought aloud, rubbing his chin.

“Pacifica, she’s still at work, remember?” Dipper piped up as he walked up to Stan with Mabel, Wendy, and Soos in tow. 

Stan chuckled. “Oh that’s right. We can’t be leaving without her. So uh, when’s she off work?”

“Twenty minutes ago. She’s wondering where the heck we are.” Dipper responded, sending his girlfriend another text.

“What’s wrong?” Ford called from somewhere inside the RV.

“Nothin’ Sixer.” Stan yelled back. 

The fez wearing man glanced at the three teens and the one young adult. “Awright now, get in the car.” The old man grunted. “We’ll pick up your girlfriend on the way, Dip.”

“Woo hoo! Let the first official Pines family vacation commence!” Mabel squealed, sprinting up the steps to the RV and nearly tripping out of excitement. 

She was wearing an orange fall themed sweater depicting a couple of maple leaves blowing in the wind with a yellow skirt and matching yellow bandana tied around her head behind her ears with white stockings and her same big black boots. Needless to say, some of her Multiverse fashion sense had stuck with her and she was fine with it, bandanas and boots were incredibly versatile after all. But they weren’t the only multiversal things to stick with her through the portal. She still kept her cracked and half repaired ceramic dagger sheathed around her waist and her jingle bell around her neck, the two magical items as her constant companions. They reminded her of the kind souls in the Multiverse that had gifted them to her and she didn’t want to forget them.

“I’d hardly call this a vacation, Mabel. We’re not even staying the night. I have school tomorrow.” Dipper reminded her with an easy smile as he followed her up the steps.

“If Mabel calls this a vacation, then there’s no stopping her from making it one.” Wendy shrugged, plopping down at the table.

“It’s a mini-cation.” Mabel said matter-of-factly. “That’s why I had Grunkle Stan buy mini marshmallows for mini s’mores.”

“And regular marshmallows too, I hope?” Dipper pried.

Mabel gasped, pretending to take insult at her brother's question. “What kind of vacation planner would I be if I didn’t bring all the different marshmallows, Dipper? Shame on you for thinking so lowly of me. Your own sister even!”

The four of them laughed as Soos sat next to Wendy at the table and Mabel and Dipper took a seat on the other side, with Ford ready to go in the passenger seat as Stan finally climbed inside and started the engine. A short time later, the grimy, old RV was parked in the lot of Greasy’s Diner and Pacifica came running up to the side door.

“Geez, took you guys long enough.” The apron wearing girl in her pink uniform sassed.

“Hey, just be glad we didn’t skip you entirely.” Stan retorted.

“Which we would never do.” Ford corrected, looking up from the paper map to shoot his twin a look.

“Yeah, right. What he said.” Stan shrugged.

Pacifica only giggled as she turned to the table and found that it was full with the rest of her friends already occupying the space. So she grabbed Dipper by the arm and stood him up and led him to the seats in the back. He didn’t protest.

“Ooh, are you two gonna go to smooch-ville back there?” Mabel teased, wiggling her fingers.

“Pshh, be quiet Mabel.” Pacifica responded with a flip of her hair while Dipper’s face only reddened.

“Never!” The brunette laughed mischievously and gave Wendy a high five.

“I want one too, Mabel dawg.” Soos chirped, holding up his hand. The girl refused to leave him hanging and he pumped his fist, cheering, “Yes!” Happy to have received a high five from her.

“There ya go, Soos.” She giggled.

“I gotta say, I totally dig the boots, Mabel.” Wendy complimented, showing off her own pair of well loved, muddy combat boots by stretching out her legs into the cabin.

Mabel scooted over to the edge of the bench with Dipper gone and also stretched out her legs, admiring her shoes. “Yep, flats are out and big, chunky boots are way, way in. Grunkle Ford got them for me in Dimension- uh, what dimension was it, Grunkle Ford?”

“Dimension 77*.” Ford answered from the front, his head buried in the map. “Turn here.” He told Stanley and the whole car suddenly swerved sharply to the right, tossing the passengers from their seat and pressing them against the wall. When everything returned to normal, Ford grumbled something to his twin that Mabel didn’t quite pick up on but Stan’s retort sure was loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Yeah, well I wouldn’t have to drive like a-a, a whatever the heck you just compared me to if you wouldn’t give me directions like an old bat.” He grumbled.

Mabel wanted to keep listening to her grunkles’ bickering but Soos seemed quite intrigued by her words and asked, “Dimension 77 huh? Like, how many dimensions even are there girl dood?”

Mabel pressed her fingertips together and pondered, “Hmm, let me think… Roughly I’d say at least twenty one thousand, but probably more.”

“Ho boy, that sure is a lot of them.” Soos wowed. 

“Damn.” Wendy whistled.

“Yup.” Mabel chirped. “Here’s a fun fact for you, the way that dimensions are classified is kinda cool. The higher number a dimension is, the less suitable for life it’s likely to be.”

“And what’s the highest number you’ve been to?” Wendy prodded.

Mabel drummed her fingers on the plastic table. “Um, three hundred and something. I don’t totally remember though, I’ve been to a lot of dimensions.”

The sun lazily began to set while the three continued to talk about all things related to the Multiverse as the RV made its way deeper into the woods, the pines becoming thicker, denser, and taller as the forest floor became more and more shadowcast. Rich moss grew off the sides of trunks and red spotted mushrooms popped up from around stumps and fallen logs as the air gained a more magical quality. Being such a small town out in the middle of nowhere, nobody was surprised to see they were the only car in sight with every single crumbling camp site empty as they pulled up to the Gravity Falls Campgrounds. That didn’t stop Mabel from shrieking with delight as they passed the sign though. 

“Looks like we get to pick our spot.” Stan announced to the rest of the vehicle.

“Oh sweet.” Wendy approved.

From where Dipper and Pacifica were gazing out the back window, the blonde stated, “Make sure you pick the best one and not next to the bathrooms. These all look like they’re infested with rabid raccoons.”

Dipper called out, “Oh, there’s one right by the river. Aaaand you just passed it.”

“I want the river one too, Grunkle Stan. Turn around, turn around!” Mabel cried.

“Hang on, it's a one way road, we gotta go around again.” Stan informed her.

“Oh now he wants to obey traffic laws.” Dipper muttered.

“Why couldn’t we have done this in the backyard?” Ford asked. “It would’ve taken me ten minutes to dig a pit for a fire.”

“Be-cause Grunkle Ford,” Mabel started, dragging the first word out, “we have to get the authentic camping experience. That means gross overgrown camping spots and everything. I don’t care if we’re not spending the night, we’re making the most of this vacation.”

Ford only shrugged, “Fair enough.”

Before long, the family of seven was climbing out of the car by the river just like the teens had wanted. The air was brisk and icy crisp while the breeze only made the weather feel even colder. Small, low piles of half melted snow hung dotted around the landscape from last week’s storm and reminded them all that winter was right around the corner. As twilight arrived, Wendy and Ford worked together to build a fire out of the scientist’s old writings, strips of canvas, and portions of shattered and stomped painting frames. Soos and Stan set up camping chairs while Mabel, Dipper, and Pacifica happily took s’more supplies and hotdogs from the RV to roast over the fire.

“Haha, yes! Burn him, kill him!” Mabel laughed, grinning at the crackling fire as she carried a gigantic bag full of puffy marshmallows down the steps.

“Yeah that’s right you triangle freak, if you’re so high and mighty then why are you dying in a fire?” Wendy smirked, putting a hotdog on a stick to be cooked over the open flames.

“Hey I got marshmallows, who wants one?” Mabel chirped, stuffing two into her mouth.

“Oh, we do.” Pacifica smiled where she sat next to Dipper, who nodded in agreement.

“I’ll take three, Mabel dawg.” Soos said, holding out his hand.

Wendy only shook her head as the fire popped and hissed and Ford took the opportunity to pour more gasoline on it. The flames rose higher and let off a wave of heat, nearly singeing his eyebrows off. The hardwood in the center of the campfire burned hot and blue as the old scientist hefted the gold statue of Cipher out of the tub of firewood and gently placed it in the center of the pit. More wood was piled up on top of it and the flames greedily licked at the new fuel, eager to reduce the statue to a puddle.

Mabel distributed the sweet pillowy goodness out to her friends and then asked, “Grunkle Ford, Grunkle Stan, what about you?”

Stan shrugged, “Eh, why not?” He held out his hand and the girl placed a marshmallow in it.

Ford returned to his camping chair between Stan and the girl and dusted off his hands. “Not right now, Mabel. Thank you though.” He told her.

“More for me.” She grinned, placing her own marshmallow at the end of her stick and beginning to soften it over the fire.

“Grunkle Ford, can a wood burning fire even melt gold?” Dipper asked just as the moon began to rise.

As Ford’s face lit up with a nerdy smile, Mabel teased, “Uh oh, here he goes.”

Ford ignored her words and instead he explained, “See those blue flames in the middle there? Those can reach up to twenty nine hundred degrees fahrenheit or roughly sixteen hundred degrees celsius. Since the melting point of gold is around two thousand degrees fahrenheit, or roughly one thousand degrees celsius, under the right conditions, our little fire should hopefully be able to melt the statue down.”

“Oh, that’s pretty cool. Thanks, Grunkle Ford.” Dipper smiled as Pacifica gave him a smirk that let him know she thought he was a nerd.

“You’re welcome, my boy.” Ford said.

“Heh, everybody check out the walking enclyclo- encylo- the book with all the stuff in it over here.” Stan announced, pointing at Ford.

“Encyclopedia.” Ford gently corrected.

“Yeah that, nerd. ‘Cause you’re one of them.” Stan laughed.

“Aw, zing!” Mabel laughed.

Ford rolled his eyes good naturedly and laughed along with them as something deeper nagged at him. It made him feel ashamed for enjoying his time out with his loved ones, telling him he didn’t deserve it. He tried to ignore it by smiling upon seeing Mabel so happy. There was no denying how she beamed practically to the point of becoming a shining star. She had transitioned beautifully to life back home and embraced the things of earth with graceful stride. But he, on the other hand, had not. Now that he had come back to his home world that he had missed so much, he paradoxically found himself yearning to go back to the stars. He was familiar with the dangerous nature of the Multiverse and could handle anything it threw at him. No one asked him complicated questions about his past or why he had appeared again after thirty years in the vast expanses of other dimensions. Not to mention that he had felt far from aimless while he traveled through space. Ever since coming back home, he hadn’t quite known what to do with himself. A part of him desired to go back to spend all his time studying anomalies but he felt as though that was beyond him now, somehow out of reach. He couldn’t help but feel like something wasn’t right.

He was missing something. Something that had kept him from sleeping well and completely relaxing since being home. Something that tugged at his subconscious mind every time he saw Mabel share a laugh or a heartfelt moment with the family. Something that blocked him from imagining a future spent with Stan and the kids. He felt as though he wasn’t done with his time among the stars and that his family was at great risk. Because of Him; because of Cipher. 

There it was, he had cracked the code. The lingering anxiety, terrible sleep, and feeling out of place all made sense now. Ford knew that Bill was still out there bringing pain and suffering to the whole Multiverse but more importantly, plotting something against his family. So what was he going to do about it? As he helped Mabel sandwich her burnt marshmallow on a stick between two graham crackers and a slab of chocolate, he decided he and his loved ones could only finally be at peace if Bill was out of the picture entirely. But in order to do that, he would need to be killed, and to kill Bill Cipher, he needed to enter the Nightmare Realm…

Perhaps that, he realized, as strong and true as a lightning bolt, was why he had been hesitant to destroy the portal after all this time. His mind knew deep down that it wasn’t quite ready to be taken down yet. But that raised more questions in his mind. How would he get back after defeating Bill? What could he possibly tell Mabel and Stan in order for them to not hate him? How would he get his Quantum Destabilizer back? The last time he saw it was in the claws of his one-armed Dilophosaurus friend back in Dimension 52.

“Hey, Sixer!” Stan yelled, snapping his fingers and startling Ford out of his thoughts.

“Hm, what?” Ford replied, his eyes flickering across the group of six giggling at him.

Stan huffed, “Geez, I’ve been calling your name for like a minute now to get your attention.  Dipper asked ya a question.”

“Well what did you ask?” He inquired of the boy.

“Oh, I just wanted to know who you thought was building that big mansion up there on the hill.” Dipper repeated himself.

“I think it’s aliens.” Mabel informed him.

“It totally is. Like, one hundred percent.” Soos agreed.

Now in the dark of the starry night, there was no mistaking it, atop the nearby hill overlooking the valley were the beginnings of a very large, three story house. The floodlights lit the space up like a beacon, he noticed, and found it strange how none of them had realized it was there until now.

“Perhaps McGucket’s building a second home.” He chuckled.

“Yeah, he needs a place to keep all his robots.” Pacifica quipped.

Through a mouthful of s’more, Mabel questioned, “Who needs robots when you can do magic?” She dug her handbell out of her pocket and cast a spell while she touched the dead grass around their feet, bringing it back to life and growing it to several inches in length.

“Hey showoff, why don’t you do something actually cool eh?” Stan told Mabel, egging her on.

“Oh yeah? That’s not cool enough for you, huh Grunkle Stan?” Mabel grinned cheekily, getting out of her seat.

Ford raised an eyebrow worriedly at her as she turned her attention to the small river not more than thirty paces behind them. She sucked in a big breath and rang her handbell, whispering “Aucwcmw, gfjp ax cafb,” and drawing three runes in the air. She thrust her hands forward towards the moving body of water and grunted with exertion as she widened her stance and her knees buckled like she was carrying something much too heavy.

Dipper, Wendy, and Soos shined their flashlights through the forest curiously to the rushing ribbon of water so they could see better as Stan froze mid sip with his Pitt cola and Pacifica placed a hand on her boyfriend’s shoulder as her jaw dropped. Ford’s eyes kept darting between the girl and the fire, ready to leap and catch her at a moment’s notice in case she over exerted herself and began to fall back into it. Sweat began to bead at Mabel’s forehead as directly in front of them, the river appeared to slam against an invisible wall and very slowly began to rise out of the riverbed like a snake lifting its head. Her breathing became heavy and ragged and her outstretched arms shook as a span of the river lifted half her height into the air. Then she abruptly slumped backwards towards the fire and a massive SPLASH! shook the surrounding area as Mabel lost her magical grip and everything returned to normal.

Ford, who had already been half way out of his seat, dove for her in an instant and caught her just as the flames began to singe the ends of her hair. “Mabel, are you okay?” He cried.

“Holy shit, Mabel!” Stan exclaimed, rushing over to her. 

Then Dipper and everyone else was there too, hovering over her and asking if she was alright as Ford held her, and she gave them all a shaky smile as she sucked in air. “I-I’m ok… gasp … just tired.” She half-heartedly chuckled and gasped, “I’m s-still learning so… pant … I’m not that strong yet.”

“You just about gave me a heart attack.” Ford chastised her as he helped her to sit down properly in her chair. He turned to his twin and growled, “Stan, why’d you tell her to do that?”

“Hey, I didn’t tell her to move the freaking river for cryin’ out loud! She did that all on her own.” Stan retorted, throwing out his arms.

Ford sighed, returning to his own nylon chair and grumbling, “Ok just, be more careful next time, Mabel. Good heavens.”

Mabel weakly laughed as Dipper kept a hand on her shoulder and she rasped, “Yeah, I think I got it.”

“See Sixer? She’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Stan defended himself further.

Ford slowly nodded his head, intertwining his fingers and relaxing only a fraction. “I’m aware Stan, I was simply worried about her falling into the fire and my intuition was correct.”

“Hey, but you were there for her, lookin’ out for her like any good parent would. So ‘s ok.” Stanley complimented, punching him lightly on the shoulder. Then he said much more quietly, so quietly in fact that no one but him heard his own words. “Heh, it’s more than I was doin’ anyway.” 

“Thank you, Stan.” Ford replied somewhat distractedly.

“Mhm.” His brother responded, also too distracted to really notice that his brother’s thoughts had drifted.

Stan’s self deprecating comment went unnoticed by all but it stuck with him like a rock in his shoe. There was Ford, the good twin and the smarter twin, doing a better job than him. He felt guilty not doing more, not also being concerned enough for Mabel because Ford had noticed this and had gotten upset with him. It wasn’t purely this one off instance that was worrying him but the wider scope of things. Here he was, being the screw up again by letting his grand niece practically horribly burn herself as Ford jumped to the rescue. How long would it be before he made one mistake too many and finally got under his twin’s skin enough to decide he didn’t want him around any longer? Stan knew, because it was always lingering around in the back of his mind like an irritating fly buzzing around his head, that Ford owned the house and could legally kick him out at any time he felt like it. What if he one day pushed Ford too far or frustrated him so much that he decided he didn’t want him for a brother any longer? How long would this temporary bliss last before Ford became preoccupied with something else, something other than him and his family?

As Stan’s thoughts wandered down lonely corridors, the conversation continued on around Ford as his thoughts returned to Cipher and the portal and his eyes landed on the fire. The same old thoughts and concerns returned to him as he watched Bill’s golden statue begin to melt in the fiery furnace of hardwood and charcoal, softening and beginning to distort. He knew in his heart that he had made a promise to Stan to be his brother again, but how was he supposed to do that if he wasn’t even in the same universe as him? A bitterness rose in his throat as he scorned the irony of it all. He had been made aware of just how deeply the demon had rooted himself in his mind and even as he made the pitiful effort to replace those vile thorny brambles with his loved ones, here was was, his mind preoccupied with Cipher yet again. It seemed as though he couldn’t get away from him , couldn’t be free from him , until he was no more.

As Ford stared at it, Cipher’s golden statue melted further, an arm sloughing off and turning into a sludge as it hissed when it made direct contact with the white hot burning logs. His entire body began to slump, his sharp edges dripping like melting ice cream as his other arm hung on stubbornly, held out between him and Pacifica and pointed towards Mabel. But just as the entirety of the artwork reached a critical temperature and collapsed entirely, Stanford saw before his very eyes and witnessed the gaze in the statue itself sharpen with intelligence and blink at him with an amused expression before slumping into a formless mass of precious metal. His breath froze.

Pacifica screamed.

“Did you see that?!” She shrieked, shakily pointing into the fire. “The statue freaking winked at me!”

The group all confusedly focused on the lump of gold that had once resembled Bill Cipher, searching it for answers, but found none.

“O-or maybe it blinked at me, I couldn’t really tell.” She continued, sounding petrified and looking like she had seen a ghost.

Dipper protectively scooted his chair closer to her and pulled her into a side hug, cooing, “Hey shh, it’s okay.”

Wendy side-eyed the campfire like it was about to spring to life and try to devour the blonde girl, which could actually be a possibility in Gravity Falls, as Soos and Mabel worriedly looked back and forth between the fire and Pacifica and Stan studied Ford’s face for answers.

“I didn’t see nothin’.” Stan told his twin slowly, rubbing his chin in thought.

Ford inquired of his great-niece, “Mabel, you were facing the eye, what did you see?”

The teen girl frowned and propped her elbows on her knees and rested her chin against her palms, disappointed with herself. “Aw man, I was talking to Dipper. I wasn’t looking at the fire.”

Ford sighed softly. “That’s quite alright. Did anybody else see anything unusual?”

When he got several ‘no’s’ and head shakes in response, Pacifica worriedly cried, “So I’m just crazy then? That’s great.”

The sweater wearing man revealed his piece of information to calm the girl, “Now now, you’re far from crazy Pacifica. Fear not, I actually saw it too.”

A wave of hushed gasps and murmurs echoed through the other six at this revelation and Pacifica’s eyes widened and she actually unwound some. “Oh, well I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

Mabel’s frown only deepened. She grumbled, “So that probably means I would have seen it too if I wasn’t distracted.”

Dipper offered a kind smile to his sister and reassured her, “You weren’t distracted Mabel, you were just talking to me by a campfire.”

“A spooky and totally cursed campfire, dood. Don’t forget that.” Soos supplied.

Mabel half-heartedly chuckled and a tiny smile graced her lips. “Heh, thanks guys.”

“So then what does that mean?” Pacifica prodded Ford a little more bravely, holding Dipper’s hand quite tightly.

Ford’s face darkened, cast in dramatic shadow by the light of the fire just as a gust of icy air swept through the camp, sending the redwood branches creaking high above them as the flames danced wildly in the moving air. “It means your suspicions are correct; Bill Cipher is watching us.”

The man’s words brought a swift hush to the group, their faces all in varying states of worry and anger. The only sound to be heard was the crackling of the burning wood as the whole forest seemed to quiet with them, also in just as much shock as they were. The trees went still, like moving would alert the demon king to their presence and the river appeared to freeze over with fright as the moon hid itself behind the clouds. The woodland creatures of the night shut their mouths at the utterance of Cipher’s name and the air temperature itself plummeted around them, shivering with fear.

“Oh no…” Pacifica mumbled, her breath forming a vapor cloud in front of her.

“Hey, it’ll be ok.” Dipper whispered to her, giving her a reassuring kiss on the cheek.

“Just when I thought this was all over…” Mabel muttered to herself in a low voice that was thick with anger as she stared into the flames.

Stan saw an opportunity to speak for the group and did so. “Hey now, let’s not let this bad geometry ruin our night. Now pass your great-uncle a marshmallow, would ya Dipper?”

Stan’s words seemed to blink Soos and Wendy from their thoughts and they both grinned, giving each other a high five. 

“Hell yeah!” Wendy cheered. “I’m gonna grab another hotdog from the cooler, Soos you want any?”

“I’ll take seven.” Soos smiled.

 That got a laugh out of Dipper, who tossed Stan the bag of marshmallows.

The group rebounded quite quickly after that, with even Mabel taking part in the fun, or at least trying to. Ford saw the forced cheer in her grins and chuckles and felt much the same way himself. He wanted to speak with her on the matter but he couldn’t. Not here, not with everyone around. So he rolled his eyes at one of Stan’s terrible puns instead and tried to pay attention to the social happenings of his family. 

Soos and Wendy were both driven home around midnight after several more hours of goofing around and having fun in front of a slowly decaying fire in the middle of the woods. They both independently said their goodbyes and then the RV headed back to the Mystery Shack, where the tired teenagers quickly retreated to their beds, sans Pacifica, who took a quick shower to get the smoke smell off of herself first. 

Stan took the time to count out the money that would be needed for the register in the gift shop the next day in his office. He opened the cash safe behind the framed photo of him on the wall and sat in his desk chair and began to count out the bills. Not ten seconds later, there was a knock at his door and he was surprised to see Ford poke his head in.

“Stanley, may I come in?” Ford inquired.

“Thought you were going to bed. An’ quit being so formal ya doofus, get in here.” He grunted.

“Well, I just thought I’d be polite.” Ford muttered to himself as he came inside and closed the door to a crack. He pulled up a rickety old wooden chair and sat across from his brother, hiding his hands in his coat sleeves and struggling to look his twin in the eyes. “So… I’ve been thinking lately.” He started nervously.

Stan snorted as he divided out different bills. “That’s dangerous.”

His twin shot him a look but said nothing at his comment, only persisting, “You and I are both aware of the danger that Cipher poses. A-a danger to you and me and our family. He’s a nightmare, one that we now know for certain after tonight is persistent in his pursuit of tearing down our wellbeing.”

“Mhm.” Stan verbalized.

“Well, I don’t feel right knowing that Bill is still out there, plotting to destroy us. I thought there must be a way, by some means, that we could solve this problem of ours so I got to thinking.” 

“C’mon Sixer, spit it out.” Stan encouraged.

“I need to go back to the Multiverse so I can kill Bill Cipher.” Ford quickly grit out all in one breath and looked away in shame as soon as the words had left his lips.

Stan… Well Stan was speechless. Not something he often was. He sat there with his mouth hanging open like a fish out of water, a handful of ten dollar bills frozen in his hands. His mouth opened and closed several times, failing to get any words out at all. His own brother was leaving him again just like his insecurities had feared and he felt cold, like a hand made from ice had clutched his heart. It was unbelievable, after everything he had done for him, Ford was throwing all his hard work away.

When he did finally find his voice again, it was angry. “Ford, what the hell? I just got you back!”

“I know and believe me, I feel terrible about it!” Ford winced, his eyes dropping to the floor.

Stan sputtered, “I-I mean, seriously? Are you serious right now?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Ford shot, his voice sharper than before.

“I thought you were going to be my brother, my family again. I just- damnit Ford, what the hell?” Stan huffed despairingly, slamming the cash on the table and feeling rather helpless.

“No, I am!” Ford corrected, pleading, “I’m trying my best, Lee. But every night I wake up with my heart beating out of my chest because I’m terrified that Cipher has somehow managed to follow us through the portal. I can’t rest knowing he’s still out there to harm us.”

“Then tear down the portal Ford, it’s not that hard.” Stan grumbled frustratedly, wishing he could reach across his desk and shake his brother for being so dense. He had been patiently waiting for his twin to take down the portal over the last three weeks but as the days had gone on and it still sat on standby, his concern had started to grow. Now he was crushed to discover his fear had been correct.

“Then what? What if Bill cons some other poor soul into building him one? What do we do then?” Ford cried, sounding desperate.

“What if this and what if that. What if, what if, what if? That’s all I’m hearing from you. Your family is here and you should be too.” His brother fumed, jabbing a finger in his direction. 

I’m being left behind again. Stan worried privately.

That was it, that was everything Ford had feared hearing and it had just come out of his brother’s mouth. Stan thought he was abandoning him, his family, and despite what he told himself about his plan being for the greater good, he was hurt because he knew his twin was right. Only three weeks on earth and he was already ready to leave all who cared for him behind. Perhaps it was fitting for him after all he thought, that he was choosing Cipher over those who mattered more. It seemed to be a recurring pattern in his life at this point, a cursed one that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't escape from. He was just like Icarus, doomed by the narrative to fly too close to the sun, to Bill, every single time and fall with burning wings to be dashed on the jagged rocks and drown in the waves. Just when he thought he had finally figured out how to fly straight, he found himself much too high in the sky staring into the sun. It served him right to fall at this point.

“I don’t want to leave you!” Ford exclaimed, his yell echoing around in the room. “But why clip a branch when we can burn the tree at the roots?” He kept on, frantically attempting to make Stan see. “Why dismantle the portal when we can destroy Cipher entirely so he never torments anyone ever again?”

“Is that what this is really about?” Stan seethed, crossing his arms. “Or are ya just too high and mighty to admit you don’t really care about us?”

Or about me? Stan thought brokenly.

He expected his twin to shoot back something cruel, to insult him, to yell and to get angry. Stan was ready for it. His brother had been keeping this from him for weeks, ruminating on it and not telling him because he didn’t trust him, he just knew it. Ford’s face hardened, deep with anger as Stan expected him to spit venom, but then his expression turned to sorrow and hung his head and fell silent. No wait- he wasn’t silent, Stan noticed as Ford’s back rose and fell in small increments, he was crying.

Needless to say, this caught Stan off guard and he found himself rapidly mentally  backpedaling. As much as he could remember, Ford had never been much of a crier so he must have felt absolutely horrible to be shedding tears. Because Stan had done it, he had taken things too far and made another terrible mistake tonight. Another dumb decision that had hurt his brother and now surely Ford wouldn’t want to spend any more time with him because this was all his fault.

Stan quickly jumped from his chair and came over to Ford’s side, his face laced with concern and remorse. “Sixer? I’m sorry, just tell me what’s wrong. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re right.” Ford croaked with his face buried in one hand.

“I-I’m right?” Stan blinked in surprise.

“If I really cared, I wouldn’t be planning to leave now, would I?” He clarified, drying his eyes on his sleeve.

Stan looked away guiltily. “No Ford, I’m sorry for what I said. I kinda exploded on ya but I take it back. It’s just, you know you’re talkin’ crazy right? Going to fight an all-powerful space demon by yourself?”

Ford stared at Stan, drawing his eyebrows together slightly in thought before abruptly shooting up out of his chair like a rocket and faced his twin with hopeful and energetic eyes still gleaming with tears. “Then come with me.” He gasped as if he had just made an immense scientific discovery.

Stan reared back as if he had been struck. “R-really? You’re not just pitying me?” His brows pinched with thought, his mind wandering back to the days in their childhood when they promised each other they would go sailing the seas on the adventure of a lifetime and he couldn’t help but smile widely, reminding Ford of a golden retriever that had just been told he was getting a treat.

“You really mean it?” Stan grinned from ear to ear, sounding terribly excited. His brother was actually there telling him he wanted him to go on an adventure with him and it made his heart skip a beat. Not just any journey either, but one to go put that bastard he had a history with, the one who had hurt his family, six feet under for good. Just thinking about beating the hell out of the demon with his brother made a flash of savage joy go through him.

The way Stan had lit up upon hearing that he actually wanted him to come with him made Ford’s chest squeeze. He sounded so happy, but also relieved. Like he thought Ford didn’t want him around. “Stan, why wouldn’t I mean it? What would make you think that?” He inquired kindly.

“Huh? Oh, it’s nothin’ Sixer. I’m jus’ excited is all. I mean hell, space! You get to take me there and show me everything.” Stan deflected, hoping Ford would take his bait and bite.

Fortunately for Stan, it seemed as though lady luck was on his side tonight since the office door abruptly opened another inch, gaining Ford’s attention.

“Who’s there?” Ford called in a questioning tone. 

Just on the other side of the door, Mabel froze. Maybe if she stayed perfectly still they would think it was nothing and keep talking. But as Ford’s familiar steps approached, her panicking mind knew she had been caught and she didn’t have the time to retreat into the shadows before her great-uncle pulled open the door and looked owlishly at her in surprise. However, his expression quickly turned to disappointment.

“I’m sorry!” Mabel squeaked in a pair of cat themed pajamas. “I came down for a snack and well- I couldn’t help myself.”

Ford sighed deeply, the way he did when he had expected better of her, only for her to let him down. “Well, you might as well come in then.” He grumbled.

The girl meekly did as she was told and Ford shut the door behind her as Stan waved her a quick hello. “Hey pumpkin. You outta work on your eavesdropping skills if you wanna get past us.” 

Mabel took a seat in one of the chairs in Stan’s office and chuckled nervously.

“So, how much did you hear?” Ford questioned in a parental tone.

“All of it?” Mabel winced.

Ford sighed deeply and dragged his hands down his face. “Alright. At least you’re honest.” He groaned.

“So… Are you and Grunkle Stan really going away?” The girl tried as Ford leaned against the edge of the desk.

“Well Sixer here quite literally only brought it up about thirty seconds ago.” Stan reminded her. “So we still got a lot to talk about.” 

“So is that why you haven’t taken down the portal?” She questioned Ford with hurt in her voice.

Ford nodded, feeling chagrin with himself. “Yes Mabel, that is why. I’m sorry I didn’t discuss it with you sooner, I thought of it as a personal matter and-” He cut himself off with a sigh. “I can discuss it further with you later. Why don’t you actually wait outside for a moment while I finish talking to Stan?” He asked her, changing his mind.

“An’ wait away from the door while you’re at it?” Stan added.

“Okay, sorry.” Mabel cringed and headed for the door.

“I’m proud of ya, Mabel.” Stan called with a thumbs up from behind the desk as she closed the door, gone as soon as she had come.

Once Ford had decided Mabel must be out of earshot, he clasped his hands behind his back and told Stan, “This won’t be an easy task to accomplish, Stanley. I want you to know you don’t need to feel obligated to come since this will be life threateningly dangerous.” 

“Heh, yeah I kinda figured when you invited me to go kill a chaos god with you.” Stan laughed, clapping his brother on the back and knocking his glasses askew. “I still owe that bastard a good pummeling, an’ for real this time.”

“O-oh, well alright then, I guess it’s settled. We can get right to work making preparations.” Ford stated as a smile formed on his face while he readjusted his glasses.

Stan hummed in thought, intertwining his fingers in his lap. “You think the kids will be fine on their own?”

Ford opened his mouth to speak but then paused because he hadn’t even thought about that. “Well… I’d imagine Dipper and Pacifica are responsible. I certainly know Mabel could keep an eye on things just as well as you or I could. She’s brilliant like that.”

Stan commented, “Yeah, plus there’s Soos and Wendy here too. Huh, actually…” He trailed off, a concerned look on his face appearing as he bit his lip.

“What is it?” Ford asked evenly, leaning back against the wall.

“What do we do with the Mystery Shack? Without me, there’s no Mr. Mystery and no money bein’ made. The kids need groceries while we’re gone, Sixer.” Stanley informed him as he drummed his fingers against the edge of the desk.

Any hope or optimism Ford had with him left and his face fell. “Damn, you’re right…” But then a thought pinged in his head and he dared hope, asking, “Well, do you have any savings they could use?”

His brother crossed his arms and frowned. “Nothin’ that they could use right now. I did have a buncha cash a few years back but I’ve spent most of it repairing the shack after a zombie attack an’ opening the portal for the first time. I just guess it depends on how long we’ll be gone.” He finished, giving his twin a questioning look.

Ford sighed, feeling rather discouraged. He wanted to pry on what Stan meant by a zombie attack on the shack but decided it was best to be discussed later. “It’s difficult to say, Stan. We’d need to retrieve my Quantum Destabilizer before even thinking about going into the Nightmare Realm. When you pulled us through the portal, it was in the hands of a friend of Mabel and I. There’s no telling what she could’ve done with it or where she could’ve gone. We’d have to track her down and that could potentially take months on its own.”

Stan neatly organized a stack of one dollar bills and grumbled. “So we got a questionable amount of savings for the kids and no way to make them more while we’re out, Great.” 

“What if we sent them home? Back to Piedmont?” Ford threw out the suggestion.

Stan said sarcastically, “Yeah, like that would go over swimmingly with ‘em. Besides, I’d have to take Pacifica back to her sorry excuse for a father if Mabel and Dipper’s folks don’t feel like taking in an extra kid.” 

“It was just a suggestion.” Ford shrugged moodily.

Stan suddenly laughed, attempting to lighten the mood by joking, “Well what if we took the kids with us? Dipper and Pacifica could use a real vacation.”

“No!” Ford roared so loudly that it made Stan flinch and Mabel come back to the door.

“Grunkle Ford, are you alright?” She questioned with big doe eyes.

“Yeah Geez Sixer, why don’t you just wake up the whole house while you’re at it? I was jus’ joking.” Stan commented with mild perplexion.

The sweater wearing man clutched his chest as a tidal wave of immense anger shook him and he took a moment to calm his pounding heart, trying to force the image of his entire family in Bill’s clutches in the Nightmare Realm from his head. He sat back down in the ancient wooden chair and hugged his trench coat tighter to his body, his mind reeling to come up with a logical reason for his outburst and found none. From a rational standpoint, he knew Stan wasn’t serious and he knew he had forgiven him so why the sudden and intense fury? Maybe he was just stressed, he reasoned. 

With his back to Mabel, he answered her in a much calmer voice, “Yes, I’m alright Mabel. Sorry to frighten the both of you.”

“Hey don’t sweat it Poindexter.” Stan dismissed with a lazy wave of his hand. His eyes landed on his great-niece and he smirked, “You don’t think you could get a job and pay the bills around here, could you Mabel?”

The girl in question shuffled a little further through the door. “Hah, why do you ask that?”

“Well when I go to space with Sixer here, there’ll be no one around to run the Mystery Shack. You kids gotta still eat while we’re away.” Stan explained.

She gave him a puzzled look, like the answer to their problem was obvious and they were dense for not seeing it. “So have Soos run it then?” 

Stan’s eyes widened with realization and Ford looked to his brother expectantly, awaiting his answer as a glimmer of hope that they could actually pull this off returned to his chest. 

“Wait- wait a minute. Mabel, you’re a genius! Aha, that’s my girl!” Stan cried, running over to give her a noogie.

The teen dodged his attempt by ducking under his arms and jogging into the office. “Well I’m glad you think so.” She chuckled, perching herself on top of Stan’s desk. 

Ford smiled at her and asked, “Mabel dear, will you and the others be alright on your own?”

“Oh psshaw, of course we will. We can cook and clean and get ourselves around town just fine. We’re not twelve anymore Grunkle Ford, we’re fifteen.” Mabel replied easily with a shrug of her shoulders.

Stan made his way back over to his desk, patting Mabel’s shoulder on the way. “Yeah and I can teach ya how to pay the gas an’ power bills.”

“Don’t forget the water bill.” Ford added.

“That too.” Stan agreed, pointing at his twin.

“Plus, Dipper, Paz, and I are like suuuuper responsible.” The girl smiled, leaning back on top of the desk so her elbows and forearms were flat against it. For the second time that night, Ford recognized her cheer as being more forced than not and he yet again desired to discuss it with her. 

“So do you think we should give Soos a call and let him know the good news?” Mabel inquired, reaching across the desk to grab the old beige rotary phone.

Stan shielded the phone from Mabel’s clutches by engulfing it with his large hand. “How about noooo? We’ll wait until tomorrow, sweetie.”

“Well alright.” She agreed flatly, sitting back upright with a frown in her eyes that she tried to hide by making herself smile.

“Is everything okay, pumpkin?” Stan questioned, sensing her uneasy emotions in the tone of her voice.

Mabel automatically smiled wider to hide how she really felt. “Yeah, I’m good…” She trailed off, staring at the floor for a couple of seconds before her head snapped back up and looked Ford in the eyes. “Grunkle Ford, can I talk to you? Alone? Or are you still busy talking to Grunkle Stan?”

Stanford looked to Stan for his answer and the fez wearing man shrugged. “I’d say we’re fine for now, Sixer. We can talk more tomorrow an’ iron out all the kinks and whatnot.”

Ford nodded stiffly at Stan and tried to not let his inner unease regarding Mabel’s mood show as he stood. “Very well then. Mabel, shall we go?” He asked, instinctively holding out his hand for her to take.

“Yep yep.” She said and hopped off the desk and took Ford’s hand without thinking twice about it.

“G’night you two.” Stan grunted, mentally burning the adorable image of his brother holding Mabel’s hand into his mind to remember on a rainy day.

“Night Grunkle Stan! Love you tons.” Mabel replied as she was led through the door by Ford.

“Goodnight, Stanley.” Ford said kindly, giving his twin one last smile before closing the door and letting Mabel take him to the family room.

The girl let go of his hand, leaving him in the center of the room as she sat on the sagging yellow couch and faced him with mixed emotions and started, “Man, I really want you to stay, we were having so much fun here. But I guess I get it with stupid Bill and all.”

Ford peered at her in a sympathetic manner. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” She whispered emotionally. With a mixed expression of happiness and uncertainty, she told him, “But I’m happy you’re going on an adventure with Stan. I know you two need it.”

“Yes, well I’ve only just gotten back to Earth so…” He trailed off and sighed, taking a seat next to his grand-niece. 

“What is it?” She inquired with worry.

“Oh it’s nothing, Mabel. You wanted to talk to me, remember?” He tried, giving her a soft nudge.

Mabel leaned into him, letting out a long exhale. “Yeah, I wanted to know how you were doing. So what’s wrong? Because I know you and something has been up, I can tell.”

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’m grown and can handle myself.” He replied with what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

Mabel joked with a soft chuckle, “C’mon, after everything we’ve been through you’re gonna not talk to me and leave me for the Nightmare Realm again?”

Ford stiffened beside her and gave no response. He suddenly felt extremely self conscious, lacking confidence that saying nothing as to not worry her was the wrong thing to do. He found himself second guessing his reasoning and worried that he wasn’t telling her enough.

When Mabel peered up at him she discovered that he had a pained expression on his face and she cringed, “Oof I’m sorry. Too soon?”

“Too soon. For me anyways.” Ford affirmed as discomfort squirmed in his stomach.

The teen hummed in thought, narrowing her eyes. “So what’s really the matter? I didn’t want to press you earlier but now I um,” she paused, trying to find the right thing to say, “I felt like I should go talk to you.”

The old man caved, hunching his shoulders and not meeting her eyes. “Mabel, as much as I love you all dearly, I’ve struggled to adjust back to life here on Earth. At first, I just told myself that I needed time but it’s nearly been a month and nothing has changed. I feel like a soldier sent back to civilian life after a war, wandering aimlessly without purpose.”

“Is that why you want to defeat Bill so much?” Mabel asked without judgement.

Ford nodded as an sullen look came to him. “I had so much purpose on the other side of the portal. Am I a terrible person for missing the Multiverse?”

In the deepest depths of his heart, the dark things he dared not even tell Mabel made themselves known to him. They told him he wasn’t deserving of his family’s forgiveness, nor their love. Not after everything he had done to them. Even now, after he had been brought home, he was throwing their affection away by leaving them for the distant stars. It didn’t matter that he was bringing Stan with him, he must have only been doing so because he felt too terrible not to. He was simply trying to spare his own conscience, the voices told him and he couldn’t help but listen. It was what he deserved, after all.

Mabel frowned sadly at him. “No, Grunkle Ford, of course not. You spent over half your life there. I mean, a lot of that was spent running from like- bounty hunters and monsters and stuff but still.”

Ford shook his head slowly, bringing a hand to his face and resting his cheek against his palm. He whispered out into the hushed, shadowfell room, “I’ve gotten so used to running I’m afraid I no longer know how to stop. How do you do it?”

She looked at him curiously, as if studying her answer in his face. “Well it’s easy, Dipper is here. My family is here.”

Ford brought his hand to his eyes, rubbing them out of frustration at himself. “That’s exactly why I feel so terrible even suggesting leaving you all behind.”

Mabel gestured towards Stan’s office, placing an arm around his shoulders as she reassured him, “So take your family with you. But wait, that’s exactly what you’re already doing so you don’t have to worry.”

A fond smile appeared on Ford’s lips as he peered down at her. “Well I’m glad you think so.” The girl’s empathetic words did well to heal him as she reminded him that he had in fact made the effort to voice his concerns to Stan and invite him to go on the journey with him.

He chuckled softly to himself, thinking, Whatever shall I do in the Multiverse without my therapist Mabel by my side? 

“I know so.” She affirmed with a head nod. “Go be with Stan, we all know you need to spend the time together.” She chuckled nervously and continued anxiously, “Go on a crazy adventure you’ll never forget and kill Bill Cipher and save the world for me.” 

Ford gave her a quick squeeze around her shoulders, sensing her unease. “Oh Mabel, you don’t have to worry about us. I’m confident we can put Cipher down; I nearly did it on my own once.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that…” She replied nervously, staring through the darkness  at a distant wall.

“Oh?”

She abruptly looked at him with vibrant eyes that made him want to shrink under her gaze and spoke with so much intensity that he couldn’t help but become solely focused on her words as everything else was drowned out. “Grunkle Ford, I didn’t come downstairs to get a snack. I couldn’t fall asleep because I was worried about what the Oracle told me in Dimension 52.” Mabel took a breath and carried on, “I never told you this because I honestly kinda forgot about it after we came home and everything was okay again. But after the scare with Bill’s statue tonight, it all came back to me. The Oracle gave me a prophecy and well, I kinda brushed it off at first because I was so busy thinking about you and our fight but now things are different. Now we know Bill is watching us again.”

Ford said nothing as he listened closely, his hands folded in his lap as their conversation took an intriguing turn.

She shifted her weight and continued, “She told me that things had been set into motion that would change our lives. She said something is coming and that I have the power to protect my family. So I feel like I need to come with you and Stan, like the prophecy said or whatever. But I don’t want to. I don’t want bad things to happen. I just want things to go back to normal, but they can’t. Not until that stupid nacho chip is deader than a doornail.” She sniffed angrily.

Ford raised a quizzical brow, stating, “Are Dipper and Pacifica not also part of your family in this prophecy? How do you know you’re not needed here with them?"

“Because I have a history with Bill. I helped you rebuild the Quantum Destabilizer and was with you for a long time in the Multiverse. I feel obligated to come, I guess.” She ended with a huff.

Just when she thought she could move on from all this Multiverse stuff, it was coming back to bite her. Bill was still out there and now she knew he was up to something. What specifically it was she wasn’t sure of yet but it must have been pretty damn important since she now remembered that she was part of a freaking prophecy concerning it. Part of her kicked herself mentally for letting herself get so distracted by her cushy new life in Gravity Falls. How could she have not seen this coming? But that was the hardened part of her, the part that was only trying to protect her from the dangers of the Multiverse, that was irritated with her. The compassionate and caring side to her, the one she was most proud of, was kind to her. It told her that there was no reason to be upset with herself, she had just gotten home after the two hardest years of her life and was simply trying to move on from that. She found that she was at war with herself, unable to decide which voice was more correct.

Ford focused on her with a curious expression. “That’s very noble of you, dear. But you don’t want to go and you shouldn’t have to. There’s no need to feel guilty to want to leave my side and you should be free to enjoy the rest of your childhood.”

Mabel couldn’t help but give a sigh of relief. Despite all her anxieties, there was Grunkle Ford telling her she wasn’t selfish for wanting to be a normal teenager and it calmed her fears. Her frown turned to a comforted smile as she discovered that perhaps all she really needed was to get out of her head and hear someone else’s perspective on her situation. “Thank you Grunkle Ford, that makes me feel a lot better.”

He rustled her hair and mumbled, “You’re very welcome. Do you still feel like you need to come with Stan and I?”

“No, I think I just felt guilty for not knowing Bill was still out for blood.” Mabel admitted, shaking her head.

Her Grunkle looked at her with a much more serious expression upon hearing her words. “Mabel, you certainly shouldn’t be blaming yourself for any of this. Your job now is to be free to be a teenage girl. Remember that in the beginning of all this, it was you that was tragically caught in the crossfire of the things pertaining to my life. You hold no responsibilities regarding Cipher.”

“But I don’t think that’s what the Oracle, or heck even the Axolotl thinks.” Mabel chimed, gesturing vaguely into the room with her hands.

Ford stroked his jaw and suggested, “Perhaps all the Oracle meant by her words was that you would be a comfort to Dipper and Pacifica while Stan and I are away. I dare say you’re the most mature out of the three of you in specific aspects and that will come in handy.” 

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t worry?”

The sweater wearing man grinned at her. “Yes, that’s precisely what I’m saying.”

She breathed out a slow, content breath and snuggled into his side, closing her eyes. “And I’ll protect Dipper and Pacifica while you’re away, I promise.” Mabel yawned.

Stanford chuckled softly. “Or I can get things handled with Stanley and we’ll never have to think about Bill again.”

The girl responded with her words slurred with sleepiness, “And I’ll throw a party when you’re back.” 

“That sounds like fun.” He agreed, humoring her. “I expect a plethora of balloons and party steamers heralding our victorious arrival.”

“...Yeah an’... You’ll take Bill’s hat as a… tro… phy…” Her sentence was ended by soft snoring and Ford was left in amazement at just how tired she really was.

As gently as possible, Ford took Mabel in his arms and carried her across the room towards the steps to the attic. She snored away softly, her shoulder length hair partially obscuring her face when he glanced down at her, his heart buzzing with worry. He believed that Mabel was capable of handling whatever would be thrown her way but this prophecy seemed rather serious. It was only to ease her anxiety that he had downplayed what he thought about the severity of it and he was pleased that his plan had been successful. As he ascended the stairs, his mind wandered vaguely, wondering if it would actually be better for him to stay and aid her. Well, no, his idea was better still. He reasoned that if Bill was dead, the prophecy would become moot and wouldn’t matter anyways. He would just have to make sure the demon king’s death came swiftly.

The door to Mabel and Pacifica’s room was opened a crack and he silently pushed it further with his boot and made his way to her bed, placing her down lovingly and pulling the bed covers up to her neck. He took a moment to gaze at her as she and Pacifica slept peacefully, a sense of bittersweetness entering his inside. Their paths had entertwined purely coincidentally twenty seven months ago and now it seemed that they were going different directions again. A small part of him yearned to take Mabel with him across the stars, eager to make more precious memories with her. But the larger part of him was simply content with her being home and it brought him peace. All he had ever wanted for her was for her to have happiness and safety and now she had both.

With a swish of his trench coat he was gone and he returned to his room, his mind full of anxiety for the future and the fate of his family.

Chapter Text

The next day was an unusually warm one for November, with birds chirping as they hopped from branch to branch among the trees, bathing in the sunlight of what was probably the last warm and sunny day of the year. The Pines took full advantage of this nice afternoon weather and sat around talking outside on the back porch. Sitting cross-legged across from Dipper and Pacifica were Stan and Ford, while Mabel lay between them while resting her head on Ford’s knee as she knitted a white polka-dotted scarf. The young couple was completely still and hushed, wide eyed as Ford told them that he and Stan had come to the decision to make a journey across the stars to see Cipher’s downfall.

Dipper’s jaw dropped and he would have fallen backwards off the porch in surprise if Pacifica hadn’t been there with her arm around his midsection to pull him back to safety. “Well this is just- I- wow. This is big news.” He stammered.

“I say go for it.” Pacifica stated with fire in her eyes and a desire for revenge in her heart. “If you guys want to give that geometric devil a real taste of Hell then you have my full support. Whatever you need me to do here while you’re away, I’ll do. I owe it to you.” 

The old scientist breathed an immense internal sigh of relief upon hearing Pacifica’s words and Mabel swore she could hear his pounding heart slow to a more normal level. At least now three of the four of the people he cared most about were on his side. Now all he needed was to convince Dipper and break the news to Wendy and Soos and gauge their opinions on the entire matter. 

Speaking of Dipper, the teen was biting nervously on his lip while he stared at the cool boards beneath him, practically to the point of drawing blood as he held his cargo pants in a knuckled grip. “I’m not so sure this is a good idea to be honest with everybody.” He looked back and forth between his grunkles and clarified, “I mean this as nicely as possible when I say that Bill is really powerful and I’m just not sure you guys are at a prime demon fighting age.”

Stan scoffed, pretending to take offense to his great-nephew’s concern. “Wow why don’t you just call us old geezers to our face if that’s what you meant?”

Unfortunately, the boy’s anxiety was too heavy for him to pick up on Stan’s sarcasm. “No! I d-don’t mean it like that, Grunkle Stan. I mean really, I don’t even know if all of us combined could have a chance against Bill in his physical form.”

Ford lowered his head slightly while he ruminated on Dipper’s valid concern, causing his silver cowlick to fall in front of his eyes, which he had to push back twice before it decided to more or less stay out of his face. “I believe your anxieties are logically sound, Dipper. I would have defeated Cipher thirty years ago if I could have but that’s just not an option anymore. Stan and I aren’t getting any younger so it’s best if we strike now.”

Dipper still looked unconvinced so Stan piped up, “I get that you’re worried Dipper, and I don’t blame ya. But Poindexter has one hell of a gun in the universe somewhere that’s made speci- spcefi- totally for killin’ the guy. We just gotta go find it first.”

Mabel remarked as she knitted, “It’s a really cool gun, bro-bro. It can like, vaporize anything it touches. Grunkle Ford could take over the world with it if he wanted to or whatever.”

“Thank you, Mabel.” Ford smiled, amused at the fact that she thought he was capable of such a thing.

Pacifica smirked as she rubbed Dipper’s back, “But could he actually run the world once he took it over?”

Stan shook his head and snorted, “Nah, all the power would go to his head, that’s why he’d have to give ownership to me.”

“Nu-uh!” Mabel complained, “You’d make up stupid rules like everybody having to bow in your presence and call you some really long name like, Sir King Grunkle Stan the All Wise Leader of Earth.”

A cheeky grin came to Stan’s face as he rubbed his chin. “I like the sound of that actually, thanks for the suggestions Mabel.”

Dipper had seemed to relax enough to join in to the lighthearted mood of the conversation. “If Grunkle Stan or Grunkle Ford are going to rule the world, then we have to be the second in command. It’s only fair.”

Pacifica only smiled silently and gave no input on where she wanted to be in this hypothetical situation. She had done enough ruling over others in her time and all she wanted now was to be happy with a simple life.

Ford grinned to himself as his head fell and he shook it gently, laughing softly at the turn the conversation had taken. “Yes, well maybe we’ll have to rule the world as a family.” His expression then turned more serious and he cleared his throat. “But back to what we were discussing earlier. Dipper, I have full confidence in mine and Stan’s ability to take down Cipher once we have the Quantum Destabilizer.”

“That’s the super rad gun Ford and me repaired and used to kick Henchmaniac butt.” Mabel chirped.

“It’s Ford and I.” Ford gently corrected her, to which he only got an eye-roll in response.

Dipper nodded understandingly but the concern still remained etched on his face. “I’m glad you’re confident Great Uncle Ford, but I just- I dunno. I’m not gonna stop you and Grunkle Stan from doing this, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. But I guess that if I was in your shoes, I would personally just tear down the portal.”

And move on. Dipper thought to himself privately. 

“You have every right to think that, Dipper.” Ford said sincerely. 

Stan informed the young couple, “We still got lots o’ preparations to do before we’ll go jumping through any interdimensional portals so don’t worry, we’re not leaving just yet.”

Dipper sighed and looked at Mabel with his brows pinched and asked, “What do you think about all this, Mabel?”

Mabel paused her knitting for a few seconds in contemplation before resuming as she conveyed, “Well I wish Grunkle Ford and Grunkle Stan could stay but I don’t really see that as realistic. It helps me to think of it as a super rad adventure they get to go on and bond over.”

Dipper stewed over his sister’s words with his hands clasped in his lap as he peered out into the trees. Finally, he looked Stan in the eyes with acceptance and probed, “Okay, tell me what I can do to help.”

Ford had to admit, the rest of the week moved rather quickly, with preparations for his and Stan’s journey being made in a blur of events and conversations that all swirled together in his head. The rest of the family, especially Dipper and Pacifica, had taken the news that their grunkles had decided to jump back through the portal better than he thought they would, all things considered. He was grateful for that. Soos made the news that he was being promoted seem like a divinely religious experience, breaking down into tears and proclaiming that it was simultaneously the best day and worst day of his life. He was getting his dream job but at a terrible cost.

As the scientist helped Mabel and Dipper glue the last of the unicorn hair down around the perimeter of the shack, the new Mr. Mystery himself appeared on the porch, beaming as bright as sunshine as he twirled his 8-ball cane in a suit and fez. Soos had already been giving tours with Stan’s guidance all that week and was a natural. Stan followed closely behind with his hands full of several mugs of hot chocolate and wearing a rather hideous Hawaiian button up under a puffy red coat as the occasional snowflake fell lazily from the gray afternoon sky.

“Stan’s got hot chocolate for you guys, who wants it?” Soos asked, taking a seat next to Pacifica on the couch, who was bundled up in a knee length, lavender fur coat and a white polka dotted, Mabel-knitted scarf.

“Ooh, me p-p-please.” Pacifica shivered, holding out her mitten covered hands to take a mug of the warm beverage.

In cargo pants and a button up flannel, Dipper chuckled, “You can go inside anytime, Paz.”

“No, I’m going to be here for you guys.” His girlfriend sassed and took a greedy sip from her cup.

Mabel was crouched down low, level with the porch with her tongue sticking out in concentration as she meticulously lined up the last strand of the magical hair. Being satisfied with her work, Ford finally stood upright, dressed in all black and ready for the big day, to look at his brother and had to do a double take. 

“Stanley, I told you that you can’t be wearing those horrible outfits in the Multiverse.” Ford complained.

“Oh yeah? An’ what are ya gonna do about it?” Stan tested cheekily, shoving a mug of hot chocolate into his twin’s hands.

Ford sighed as he took a drink, trying not to let his smile show as the unicorn dome was completed and a ring of colorful magic spherically encircled the shack before disappearing. 

“So that’s it then? This will keep us safe from Bill?” Dipper asked his sister and studious great-uncle as he warmed his hands against the ceramic of the cup Stan gave him.

Ford nodded proudly. “Between this and the eye-scanner, I see no conceivable way Cipher could get to the portal.”

“You added the niblings’ eyes to the database, right Sixer?” Stan asked as he wiped his mouth free of hot chocolate on his sleeve.

Ford tilted his head to give his twin a puzzled expression. “Yes? It was right after we put it back up this morning. Don’t you remember?”

“Nah, I went to go fix breakfast.” Stan replied and took another sip of his drink.

“Oh that’s right, my mistake.” Ford admitted.

It was just at that moment that a beat up, old brown van rolled into the parking lot and a familiar red headed figure stepped out and ran up to the group. “Hey, don’t be leaving without me.” Wendy called as her boots crunched beneath the thin layer of snow. “What’re you guys all doing out here?” She questioned once she got closer to them and jogged to a stop.

Mabel wiped her glue sticky hands on her sleeves and exclaimed, “Wendy, you missed it! Me, Dipper, Paz, and Grunkle Ford went on a sick adventure to get some unicorn hair. It was so cool I could totally write a sweet story about it.” She glanced back at the length of hair surrounding the shack and added, “And apparently unicorns are huge jerks.”

“I’ll say.” Ford grumbled, rubbing a bruised spot on his jaw.

“Awright, well if we’re done out here, then it’s finally showtime.” Stan grunted, trying not to let his voice break as he motioned for the group to follow him.

With everyone inside the shack there was a sort of anxious and anticipatory energy vibrating in the air. It was the big day, the day that Stan and Ford were to be leaving for the Multiverse and that fact hung in the air heavily and made itself known to everybody as obviously as if there was a swarm of insects surrounding them. There was an unspoken sense of bittersweetness shared among all of them. The bitter because their loved ones were going away and the sweetness from knowing their quest was heroic in nature and a chance for the two brothers to grow closer together.

Waiting by the vending machine door were two backpacks fully packed and ready to go, Ford’s black one he used in the Multiverse and a leather pack for Stan. Stan had been hesitant about carrying all his personal belongings around with him on his back when Ford first brought it up but after some convincing, had at least partially come around. He still wasn’t pleased with the prospect of being a space nomad, partially because it reminded him of the period of his life when he was living out of his car with nothing but a duffle bag, but he decided he would bite this bullet for Ford.

The two men slipped on the backpacks and led the group down the stairs and Soos began to weep before he had even stepped foot inside the elevator. Mabel took his hand and patted it gently as Pacifica wrapped an arm around Dipper’s waist and looked away, fearing that she too would burst into tears if Soos was in her sight any longer. 

“Aw Mr. Pines, I’m gonna m-m-miss you too much!” Soos blubbered as the elevator descended.

Stan sighed deeply, nudging the young man in the ribs. “Hey don’t sweat it Soos, I’ll bring ya back a souvenir.”

This only made the man break down further and Wendy placed an arm around him for support. She quickly realized that was a mistake because then Soos wrapped his arms around her and cried into her in a bone crushing hug. As the seven of them arrived in the basement, McGucket was already there and pleased to see them. 

He yelled across the room to Ford as his college buddy approached, “I got yer Multipurpose Portalin’ Device linked up to the portal here.” He patted the immense triangular machine and continued, “I got its location encrypted just like ya showed me Stanferd, so we won’t be havin’ any aliens randomly comin’ through while it’s on down here for ya to come back through.”

Ford smiled fondly and gave his friend a quick hug. “Just to be clear, the only device that can detect our portal is mine, correct?” He asked, pointing to his Multipurpose Portaling Device on his wrist.

Fiddleford patted him on the back. “Yeppers, unless by some magical miracle someone else can get through.”

“And the Dimensional Vortex Neutralizer is working properly?” Ford quizzed, staring up at the cold steel set of stairs that had been welded to the front of the portal while Soos cried on in the background and Wendy said goodbye to her much loved boss.

Fidds laughed, “Stanferd do ya even know me? I’ve quadruple checked everythin’, there’s no way you’re stepping through there into that demon’s domain. I got it calibrated to Dimension 52 jus’ like ya said.”

Ford grinned, “You’re still the same, F. I’ll never doubt your genius for another second.” He rocked on his heels and surveyed the room, going over any other last minute adjustments that may be needed in his head. When he found none, his heart sank and soared all at the same time. “Well, if there’s nothing else that needs to be done, then I guess all that’s left is to say goodbye…”

Ford placed a hand on Fiddleford’s shoulder as the other six slowly began to trickle into the main cavernous room of the basement and sincerely told him, “Fiddleford, thank you for everything. I can’t express how grateful I am to have a dear friend like you.”

The old hillbilly wiped his gleaming eyes on the sleeve of his green, Mabel-knitted sweater and sniffled, “Aw shucks…”

Stan’s footsteps approached and he told McGucket, “Yeah, thanks for your help.” His gaze turned up to the looming machine and he whistled lowly, “So this is it, huh? We’re really doin’ it?”

Another shaky voice came from behind them, one they recognized as Pacifica’s, “I can’t believe that after everything you’re going to willingly jump through there. You’re braver than I am, Stan.”

The two twins turned around to find that Pacifica, Dipper, and Mabel were right there with them all puffy eyed and sniffling. 

“Hey I’m doing this for you, blondie, don’t you forget it.” Stan weakly chuckled as he approached her. 

Pacifica left Dipper’s side and ran into his arms, hugging him around the neck and holding on tightly, burning the moment into her mind. “Thank you so much, Stan. You’ve helped change my life for the better and I’ll never forget that.”

Despite his best attempt not to, Stan became choked up and tearily embraced her back. “Of course, pumpkin. You best behave yourself while we’re gone, alright?” 

“Ok.” She whispered as she pulled away. 

The old man didn’t get any time to recover because then both Dipper and Mabel were there, filling his arms with themselves as they embraced him. Mabel said with a watery voice, “You better not die on Grunkle Ford out there. If you do, you have to haunt him to keep him company.”

Stan chuckled weakly, “Oh yeah? Well Ford better not die on me either then.”

“I can assure you that probably won’t be an issue.” Ford said, briefly pausing saying his goodbye to Pacifica to make the comment.

“That’s not very reassuring, Sixer.” Stan sniffed and he held his great-niece and great-nephew tighter.

Dipper shakily exhaled and tried to blink his tears away. “I’m going to miss you so so much.” A sob escaped his throat and he rested his head against Stan’s shoulder as he cried. “I love you. Stay safe.”

With a quivering lip, Stan choked out, “I’ll stay as safe as I can while kicking some triangular ass.”

His response got a laugh out of both of the twins and Dipper squeezed his eyes shut, relishing the last hug his grunkle would give him for the foreseeable future. He prayed it wouldn’t be the last. Mabel’s eyes met Ford’s while in Stan’s arms and his expression softened into something immensely sad and joyous all at the same time. His eyes were full of emotion as he stood there with his hands behind his back and Mabel knew it would be criminal for them to be empty for even a second longer so she wiggled her way out of Stan’s hug and sprinted for Ford.

Mabel didn’t even make it to the sweater wearing man before his walls crumbled and he began to weep. He took a step towards her with his arms outstretched before he collapsed onto his knees and Mabel ran into his arms as she started to sob. They cried into each other, Mabel clutching his sweater as Ford held her head and stoked her short hair. They both knew the weight and danger of the situation better than any of the others there and they clung to each other like a lifeline because of it, each knowing in the back of their minds that this could very well be the last embrace they ever received from one another. 

Ford whispered brokenly, “I’m so very proud of you, Mabel. You’ve grown into an amazing young woman and I’m overjoyed that I get to call you my great-niece. You know I love you, I love you more than anything.”

“I love you too. B-but quit acting like this is a forever goodbye.” Mabel wept.

“Keep staying amazing while we’re away, okay?” Ford sniffled.

“Only if you are kind to yourself out there, promise?” She asked with a trembling voice.

“I promise.” 

“And say hi to Katee and give her a big hug for me if you see her.” She added tearfully.

“I will try my best.” He weakly laughed.

With a watery smile, she took her magical jingle bell off from around her neck and continued, “Speaking of which, I want you to take this with you, Grunkle Ford. For protection.”

The old scientist looked softly at the rune inscribed bell held in the girl’s hand and shook his head. “I know how much you love that bell, Mabel. I can’t take it, it was a gift from Katee. It will protect you from harm when you need it.”

“But what about when you need protection?” She whispered with concern.

With a wink, Ford reminded her, “I have some magic of my own dear, remember?”

Mabel sighed and put the bell back around her neck, remembering the way Ford had fought off her attackers with fists blazing with blue flames, ‘That’s right. You’ll light people on fire instead.”

As Ford chuckled in response, there was a second pair of arms wrapped around her body and after that, a third and even a fourth as she realized that Dipper, Stan, and Pacifica had joined in and turned their embrace into a group hug. It wasn’t until Mabel started to complain that she was overheating in the middle of all her loved ones that they all pulled away and independently got to their feet.

Dipper and Ford shook hands and the old man sighed, “I’m sorry I haven’t gotten to spend as much time as I would have liked with you, Dipper.”

The teen boy smiled softly and replied, “That’s okay, Great Uncle Ford. You and Grunkle Stan have to go save the Multiverse, I understand.”

“Thank you, my boy.” Ford grinned with watering eyes.

“Y’know, if I had a nickel for every time we had a cryin’ fest down in this basement…” Stan mused.

Mabel giggled shakily as she grinned at Ford, “Maybe it’s a good omen.”

“I’ll take it as one.” Ford agreed, giving Mabel a kiss on top of her head as he made his way back over to Stan. He looked his brother in his reddened eyes as he put a hand on his shoulder, his own also full of warm salt water and whispered, “Are you ready?”

Stan’s gaze went to the rest of the room, to his family, the ones who he held so closely to his guarded heart and nodded acceptingly. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The old scientist blinked back another wave of tears and his heart squeezed knowing that now was the time they were finally going. Something stirred in the back of his mind, wondering why it was that he was now so hesitant to go when he had himself convinced he missed the Multiverse. But he was so caught up with the current emotional state of the room that he barely even noticed it.

He instructed, “All of you, get back to the control room where it’s safe. If everything goes according to plan, we’ll be seeing you again.”

Wendy, Soos, McGucket, and Pacifica did as Ford commanded but Mabel and Dipper stayed as they stood still with their hands clasped in one another’s grasp. The younger twins shared a brief glance with one another, their looks alone being enough to communicate what they were thinking. Without hesitation, they raced for their grunkles one final time and pulled them close.

“You two little gremlins better take good care of each other.” Stan chuckled as he held onto his family.

“You too.” Mabel sadly smiled back.

Finally, the little group of four pulled away from one another for the last time and Dipper led his sister away from the portal and into the control room as she held his hand and began to sob yet again. Her echoing cries were soon drowned out by the shuddering hum of the portal as McGucket switched it on and the room was bathed in chilly sapphire light. The walls rumbled and dust was shaken loose from the cracks and crevices in the walls and ceiling. Dipper held Mabel with one arm and Pacifica with his other as the trio’s eyes widened in anticipation, holding their breaths as they hoped for the best. The eye of the great machine swirled with a hurricane of colors and stars as lights flashed and machinery whirred. Their hair began to stand on end as papers and other loose objects began to levitate, the gravitational anomaly tugging at their shoes and making them feel weightless for only a second before it returned to normal. Stan and Ford stood side by side beneath it all, their shadows stretching all the way back to the rest of them as the storm in the portal faded and returned to its idle blue.

The older pair of twins shared a smile with one another and glanced back at their family one more time and waved as they ascended the steel steps. They turned back, face to face with the rippling blue light.

Stan had only just begun to lift his heel off the ground to step through into the unknown when he hesitated. Did Ford actually want him to come with him? What if he messed everything up again and made Ford hate him? Could he really do this? His self doubt raised all sorts of questions at quite possibly the most inopportune moment and he tried his best to ignore them now so he could dwell on them later.

Ford was too caught up in his own personal hesitation to notice that his twin was also having anxieties. He feared for Mabel and what her fate was with the Oracle’s prophecy. Maybe he should stay behind with Stan and the kids after all. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel so ashamed and could actually begin to make up for everything. But no, they had to do this, they had to defeat Cipher.

They simultaneously stepped across the boundary to another dimension, letting the portal swallow them up in brilliant brightness that forced the rest of the family back behind the glass to squint their eyes. Then there was silence as the skeleton rattling vibrations stopped and the room was cast into dimness once more as the portal completed its task and sat idly on standby, waiting for Ford to open the rift between spacetime once more. Neither Stan nor Ford was anywhere to be seen.

They were gone.

Two weeks earlier…

Among the snowcapped, jagged peaks of the Swiss Alps, a multi million dollar mansion sat with its halls empty, dining rooms deserted, and many bedrooms but one vacant. As the wind whistled and fluttered crystalline snow through the midnight air, Preston Northwest gazed out his third story bedroom window and down on the tiny village in the valley below. It made him feel as though he was a Lord or a King ruling over them and quite reminded him of the other small town he had ruled over not too long ago. Switzerland, for as grand and picturesque as it may be, had not treated him like he had hoped. Nobody here knew who he was or the reputation he had and neither did they care for that matter. It was terrible.

Not to mention, Pacifica hadn’t written or so much as called him. He let her live with the filth in that rancid cabin as a way for her to learn the hard way that she was above them. But she hadn’t come crawling back to him yet and it worried him. He wanted her back and he wanted her now. He knew it wasn’t a good look legally that he left her in Oregon for months while he stayed in Switzerland but originally, he reasoned he could hire the best of the best lawyers to wave that away. That was the plan originally, but the process of splitting with Priscilla had drained him financially more than he had planned for and now he wasn’t too sure he could even hire the best lawyers. He was only a millionaire now! As he turned off the chandeliers and retired to his bed and pulled his exotic silk sheets over himself, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had made a mistake…

When he opened his eyes again, daylight didn’t stream through the gold threaded curtains like he had expected. In fact, there was no sunlight at all, not to mention everything had been completely drained of color around him.

“What’s the meaning of this?” He demanded to the empty room as he climbed out of bed and smoothed out his nightgown.

A brilliant flash of lightning boomed beside him, causing him to yelp and take a step back. From the powerful electric bolt, a rather familiar figure appeared. A yellow triangle with a tophat. Preston recognized him instantly, how could he not? He had been dotted in their tapestries all over the manor and was an entity he had grown up hearing his grandfather and father speak of often. 

“Bill Cipher.” He said darkly.

“Yep, in the flesh! Or- well not literally but, y’know.” Bill said brightly, tipping his hat. “Say, what’re you doin’ here instead of the Pacific Northwest, Mr. Northwest?” He winked, or maybe blinked. It was hard for Preston to tell.

Preston crossed his arms and scowled, “I thought a new life awaited me in these mountains.”

“But now you’re not so sure! I mean hell, talk about throwing it all away.” Bill chirped. “Your great-granpappy didn’t rise from village idiot to town ruler and build a mansion with my help so you could discard it.”

“What? I-I didn’t discard it. It was the most financially sound option, I needed to sell the house.” Preston retorted, pointing an accusatory finger at the demon. He may have been rich in land, but since the divorce he had been poor in cash and people weren’t exactly lining up to move to the middle of nowhere in Oregon.

Bill circled the man’s head as he laughed. “Haha! Oh boy, you think this is about the mansion? This goes waaaay beyond the mansion, Pres.”

“I know what you are.” Preston huffed, crossing his arms and puffing out his chest. “I’ve heard dark tales of your actions from my father and his father before him. I know you want something and I won’t have you insulting me.”

Bill abruptly stopped his laughter and gazed intensely at the man who stood before him. “Insulting you? Insulting you ?” The walls suddenly grew taller and more twisted as the shadows in the room darkened beyond comprehension and Preston couldn’t help but shrink under Cipher’s gaze. “Buddy, I see what you need. You’ve let yourself go and I can help you out! You’re a Northwest, destined to rule Gravity Falls by birthright, with your daughter by your side if you just let me give you a hand.” Bill reached out a flaming hand that filled Preston’s vision before quickly retracting it. “Do you want to make history, pal? How about bringing the Northwest name to all corners of the globe, drunk off of unfathomable power and a legacy for your daughter to inherit? How does that sound?” 

Preston had to step out from underneath Bill’s form and he cleared his throat, trying to suppress how intimidated he felt. Something in the back of his mind cried out to flee but he stamped it out. He was in the middle of a business deal and would not be pushed around. 

He said bravely, “That does sound tempting, so I’ll hear you out.”

“Perfect!” The demon trilled, spreading out his limbs in excitement and returning the room to its normal color washed state. “So here’s what I’m thinking, you help me out with a project I’m working on and I’ll get you your perfect little kid back. No money, no lawyers, no nothin’! You get to keep all your dough and get your kid back with me, plus making history and all that junk.”

 Preston nodded, walking over to stare out the window. He stroked his chin as his eyes settled on the swirl of ice crystals in the wind frozen in time just outside. “I thought Pacifica would be back already. I don’t know what the Pines have gotten into her head but it needs to be exterminated. That’s why we have to convince her that she’s better off with me and show her how miserable she would really be with those middle-class rats. I teach her valuable things like being a proper lady and how to rule with an iron fist. What do they even offer her, pitiful things like love and affection?”

“Way ahead of you, pal.” Bill chirped, floating over beside him as he read his mind. “I think I got some guys that can help you out with that little plan of yours.”

“But you can’t hurt her.” Preston said quickly, swiveling to face the demon. “That’s my only rule, to bring no harm to her. I may be corrupt but I’m not a monster.”

“No problem.” Bill dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Can’t harm Pacifica as your only rule in this deal, I hear you loud and clear.”

“So what do you need me for then?” The human inquired. 

Bill’s eye crinkled in amusement and he smiled, “Oh-ho I thought you’d never ask! Well you see, I need that shack. Or more specifically, I need what’s underneath it and I need you to get down there.”

Preston leaned back against the window, feeling the cold glass press against him. “So why don’t you simply have me steal the deed?”

“Nah, I already tried that.” Bill shrugged. “But I can think of another way for you to legally acquire the shack. Once you do so, you can get all that fame and glory for you and Pacifica that you desire.” 

“How so?” The man asked with crossed arms, looking out across the grayed valley below.

“Well the Pineses are gonna set up some quite clever defenses against me. So here’s what I’m thinking, let’s force the property to go up for sale by one way or another and then the richest man in the whole state can outbid all the others and purchase it. After that, you can get access to all the heavy tools you’ll need to get into the basement and follow my instructions to turn on the portal.” Bill smiled smugly.

“A portal? Under that wretched place? But why? What’s on the other side of the portal?” Preston questioned.

“Your gateway to unlimited power and knowledge, my friend.” Bill smiled, reflecting an image of infinite riches in his eye. “Which is also my ticket into this world to make you king.” He added, blinking his eye back to normal. “That’s all you need to know.”

“That’s very interesting.” Preston mused.

Bill held out his hand, covered in icy flames that sucked the light from the human’s eyes and the room around him. “So Pres, do we have a deal?”

The Northwest firmly shook the demon’s hand. “Yes, we do.”

Chapter Text

Stan felt like he had been turned inside out, then back, then inside out again as an immense wind rang in his ears and a swirling of infinite colors surrounded him for what felt like an hour and a split second all at once before his feet found solid ground. The air smelled different somehow, like his subconscious knew it wasn’t any combination of oxygen, nitrogen, and hydrogen he had inhaled before. But that wasn’t particularly important to him right now because he was too busy being dizzy on his hands and knees while vomiting up his lunch.

His brother was crouched by his side a second later, staring at him with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Stanley. I forgot how gravely dimensional travel sickness affects those who aren’t used to it.”

Stan coughed and spat on the steps before he unsteadily stood, taking in the view of a single mountain peak topped with a beautiful temple, in the middle of the valley with a bustling city circling it. The further the distance from the peak, the more rural the settlements became and at the edge of the town where he had just come through the portal, a little village sat with real life aliens. There were two different kinds going about their business in this town, one that was long necked and scaly, and another that was rather avian. He took it all in, the otherworldly infrastructure, the flaming red sky at sunset with the first twinkling of unfamiliar stars beginning to shine, and the literal aliens that glanced curiously at them, with his jaw hanging open in disbelief. Now, Stan knew there were other dimensions out there. He had done the math to prove it and had heard Mabel and his brother tell countless stories about their encounters with other life forms. But hearing and seeing were two different things and he was currently bewildered beyond all comprehension as he gawked at the foreign civilization while his nausea faded.

“Holy… Shit…” Stan gasped. “There’s aliens over there looking at us, now I’ve seen everything.” He said rather dumbly.

Ford barked a laugh. “Far from it actually, now come along. And welcome to Dimension 52.”

His brother had made it all the way down the steps before Stan was able to tear his gaze away from everything and focus on not tripping down the stairs. “Hey Ford, wait up!” He called, jogging after him to catch up while he gaped at the other lifeforms.

Then there was an elbow in his ribs and his head spun to see Ford was frowning at him. “Quit your staring.” He whispered sharply.

Stan scoffed and whispered back, “Oh, well I’m sorry if seeing aliens isn’t crazy to you. ‘Cuz I’m not you.” But he did have to admit, it probably would be smarter for him to not stare at the people who lived here and try to not piss them off if he could help it.

“Xcqq!” One of the avian creatures nodded to them as they passed by carrying a basket full of an oblong shaped blue fruit Stan had never seen before.

“And good evening to you as well.” Ford responded cheerfully.

Stan looked at Ford with his mouth hanging open and asked with a bemused expression, “You know their language?”

Ford appeared puzzled for a moment before he realized what Stan was asking and explained, “No, Mabel and I have a Universal Translator that allows us to understand nearly every language in the Multiverse. I’ll need to get you one too.”

“ Pero probablemente no funcione para idiomas terrestres como el Español, ¿verdad? ” Stan asked with a cheeky grin.

“No, I’d have to assume it would work on other earth languages since English is in the database.” Ford responded, completely unaware of the fact that Stan had just asked him a question in a language he didn’t speak because his Universal Translator did its job.

“ ¿Entendiste eso? ” Stan blurt.

“Yes? I understood you.” Ford replied with confusion in his voice.

“This is so crazy…” Stan mumbled exasperatedly, making a mental note that he couldn’t insult Ford in Spanish behind his back.

“What is?” His twin pried.

He gestured vaguely at their surroundings, “Everything is, you and me, that fact that we’re here, not to mention I was speakin’ Spanish just now and you understood me just fine.”

“Huh, fascinating.” Ford responded with a slight smile.

After a little silence, Stan asked, “Hey Poindexter, where are we even going?”

Ford gestured theatrically towards the mountain peak in front of them. “The Oracle’s temple. She commands and directs a small legion of paladins loyal to the being called the Axolotl. My friend who was last in contact with the Quantum Destabilizer is one of these paladins. If anyone knows where she’s gone, it will be the Oracle.”

“Wait- you said being, as in a real person. Does that mean God is real??” Stan exclaimed, completely baffled. 

Ford shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “Whether the Axolotl is truly a deity or simply another powerful being like Cipher is hotly debated across the Multiverse.”

“Oh Geez…” Stan trailed off as his head began to hurt. 

The two continued their walk towards the mountaintop peak as Stan continued to probe Ford with questions that came up as they traveled through the villages and into the city. While the buildings around them became more than one story cottages and quickly turned to apartment buildings, an anxious voice began to stir in the back of Ford’s mind, reminding him that the road they currently walked on was the same one he had raced down a month ago chasing after Cipher while Mabel’s life hung in the precarious balance. He couldn’t help the way his heart began to beat out of his chest as putting one foot in front of the other felt like trying to walk with lead shoes towards the condemned apartments where his battle with the demon had taken place. An apprehensiveness to keep on their current path built up quickly within him and abruptly, he turned down a side street and dragged Stan along with him, who cut himself off mid sentence to yelp in surprise.

“Hey, that gives?” Stan squawked as he was dragged by the elbow into the alleyway.

“We’re taking a shortcut.” Ford explained, knowing full well that he was actually taking them on a detour that would only lengthen their journey.

Stan rolled his eyes and complained, “Yeah well, you couldn't have told me that like a normal person instead of yanking me into some random alleyway?” 

Ford only shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant as he worked to calm his racing heart and stuffed his hands into his pockets so Stan couldn’t see that they were actually shaking. 

It’s okay, we’re going around. It’s okay, we’re going around. It’s okay, we’re going around. He repeated in his head like a mantra until he had convinced himself that he was safe and that they were avoiding that terrible place.

Their path through the city took another quarter of an hour with Ford’s improv extension and he was able to calm his nerves to a certain extent. But there was a constant voice in the back of his mind that was afraid to have to cross through the place where he had brawled with Bill and it urged him to make it to the temple as quickly as possible. Eventually, they started up the stony steps leading up the mountainside and Stan groaned loudly when he saw how many stairs he had to climb in front of him.

 Stan began to pant not long after they had begun to climb, already winded from their ascent up the mountain, “Hey Ford, how much longer this little walk of ours is gonna take? Y’know, for my sake.”

The older of the two brothers stopped and let Stan catch his breath and informed him, “Not all that much longer, maybe twenty minutes or so. It’s not a terribly tall mountain.”

His twin huffed and took off his coat, tying around his waist as he gasped, “That’s like, forever.” 

Ford half-heartedly laughed, feeling his remaining nerves starting to become replaced with amusement. “You sound like Mabel when she first met me.”

Stan shot his sibling a perplexed look and retorted as he adjusted the straps on his pack, “Yeah, because when you take people to other universes and then expect them to go on hikes with you there, they all tend to have the same reaction.”

He only smirked and kept on up the steps, making sure to go at a slower speed for Stan. As he climbed further up the mountainside, the breathtaking nature of the world filled him with feelings of serenity and contentment. Ford was in his element taking in the fresh mountain air and it did much to relax him as Stan was busy mumbling curses behind him. Eventually, they reached the top lip of the stairs and made their final steps onto the cracked patio of a Greco-Roman like temple with a half burned tree growing off to the left side. What made a pang of sadness ring in Ford’s chest however was that the entire temple seemed to be in the middle of being rebuilt after Cipher had set it ablaze not too long ago. Scaffolds surrounded most of the outer walls, with scorch and claw marks on the marble pillars while entire sections were still nothing but a charcoal heap. The light pink curtains across the front that fluttered in the wind appeared to be brand new and only just recently replaced, as did the woven rugs on the porch.

A white and pink robed figure sat reading underneath the tree, sitting elegantly on a wicker bench. She lifted her head and took off her hood to smile kindly at them with all seven of her eyes with a gaze that made Stan feel like he could tell her anything. Her aqua skin was hideously burned down the entire right side of her face and neck, rendering her two rightmost eyes glassy and blind. When she stood, it was with the help of a white and light pink cane decorated with motifs of Axolotls, which she gripped tightly in her equally scarred right hand. She approached them with a limp and an expression as warm as Mabel’s best hugs.

With a voice like music she began, “Welcome back Stanford, I’ve been expecting you.”

Ford froze where he stood and nervously looked at her like a deer caught in the headlights as his last interaction with her caught up to him. Because now that he was in her presence once more, he remembered that the last time he had seen her, he had been quite angrily leaving Mabel behind as he set off for the Nightmare Realm. He gasped, “Jess,” and then hung his head, “I owe you an apology.”

She hummed silkily, “Not at all. I’ve been keeping watch over you and I see the course correction you’ve accomplished in your journey thus far.” 

Ford didn’t even have time to process her forgiveness and look her gratefully in the eyes before she had moved on and spoken to his brother, “Stanley, it’s nice to finally meet you after waiting for so long. My name is Jheselbraum the Unswerving, but all my friends call me Jess.” She held out her non scarred hand for Stan to shake, which he did.

“Wha- you speak English?” Stan questioned as the back of his mind made a happy mental note that Ford had at least mentioned him to this lady at some point while he was stuck in the Multiverse. Either that, or she really was magic like Ford had told him. But he wasn’t sure if he believed it since he had yet to actually see her do so much as pull a bunny from a tophat.

Jheselbraum laughed like sunshine, “No Stanley, I brewed and consumed an Allspeak potion shortly before your arrival. Simply put, it allows me to speak and understand any language, since you haven’t received your translator yet.” She motioned for them to follow her inside and the two brothers did.

Stan wanted to say that this surprised him but after everything he had seen and heard so far today, the novelty of it all had started to wear off. He walked through the pillars and pink curtains to a rug-lined living room with a hearth along the left wall and wicker furniture and asked, “Hang on, you’ve been waiting to meet me?”

The Oracle sat on a white cushioned, wicker couch and sang, “Yes, the Axolotl has taught me much about you.” 

“Huh.” Stan dictated, unsure if he believed her or not. He supposed it was impressive that she knew he hadn’t gotten his translator yet but on the other hand, he did kinda give that away by asking if she spoke English. 

With much care, she picked up a bubblegum pink and baby blue crossbow with a grappling hook attached to the underside off the glass coffee table and handed it to Ford. “I do believe this belongs to you two.”

The trench coat wearing man gingerly took the weapon in his hands and a wistful smile tugged on his lips. “Mabel’s crossbow... Thank you.” He said softly, thumbing the wood grain and turning it over carefully in his hands as if it was made of glass. His fingers trailed up and down the stock and barrel, memories flooding into his head as he recalled how her crossbow had gained every dent and scratch he touched. Despite only having been apart for an hour, Ford felt like it had been months since he had last seen Mabel and he missed her immensely gazing down at her weapon right then.

“Woah, lemme see.” Stan breathed and Ford gently placed it in his arms. It looked well loved and much used so it must have been the very crossbow Mabel mentioned in all her tales of the Multiverse that he held. A warm and comforting feeling bloomed in his chest upon holding the small weapon that was just perfectly Mabel’s size and he found himself desiring to hug the thing to his chest. It was surreal, as if he was holding some rare historical artifact, that this piece of metal and wood had seen more of the universe than he had.

As the Oracle handed Mabel’s quiver to Ford, he inquired, “Jess, I’ve been meaning to ask you about Mabel. Or more specifically, on the prophecy in which you gave her. What can you tell me about it?”

The woman smirked, “Ah, ever inquisitive as always, Stanford. But that’s for Mabel to discover, not for you.”

Ford protested, “But-”

Jheselbraum brought a finger to his lips. “Shh. That’s my final say on the matter.” She grinned playfully.

Stan softly chuckled as he studied the crossbow, too caught up in thinking about Mabel to notice that the other two had carried on the conversation without him. “This thing’s seen some things, I can imagine.”

“Yes, as has this.” Ford agreed, handing the girl’s blessed arrow filled quiver to him. “Why don’t you hold onto the bow and quiver for me and we can take them back to Earth with us when this is all over?”

“Sixer, ya don’t even have to ask.” Stan grinned, attaching the crossbow to his pack and the quiver to his belt. “Do they flatter me?” He chuckled, turning to his side so his brother could get a better look at the weapon and quiver.

Ford smirked, “Yes Stanley, you look lovely."

The Oracle smiled fondly at them and her five functioning eyes picked up on something behind them, through the sheer curtains outside. “Oh, they’re here.” She clucked as she got to her feet and limped towards the entrance.

“Who’s here?” Ford quizzed, following her gaze to the outside.

Jess held steadfast to her cane as she shrugged and commented, “Oh, just a friend of mine. I knew when you were coming and I told them to meet me here, since Stan still needs his translator and vaccines.”

Ford nodded stiffly and folded his hands behind his back. “Ah yes, that’s right. How could I have forgotten?”

The younger of the twins held up his hands as he took a precautionary step back. “Hold up, hold up, wait a minute. Sixer, you didn’t say nothin’ about getting prodded with random alien needles.”

Ford gave his twin an unimpressed look. “But you’re fine with fighting Bill Cipher?”

Stan rolled his eyes and folded his arms as he sat on the couch. “No, it’s jus’, it’s a surprise, that's all. I don’t got an issue with it.”

“Sure.” Ford deadpanned, turning away towards the hearth, where he noticed the rune inscribed greatsword that Jheselbraum usually kept over the mantle was missing.

He didn’t have time to inquire of Jess about it because she led a blue and orange iridescent, six legged beetle-like alien that came up to his hip, with mouthparts long enough to be used as arms into the room. The newcomer carried a shiny, covered steel tray in their mouthparts and made a skittering sort of noise at the three of them with their hind legs. 

Ford smiled politely at the creature and said, “It’s nice to see you again, Vist. How are you doing?”

The creature rubbed its back legs again, making the same sort of organic squeaking noise, and Stan watched puzzledly as Ford nodded as if he had somehow understood the bizarre form of communication and said, “Well yes, Stan’s only just been to this dimension so it’s all very new and I’m sure quite confusing to him.”

Vist set their steel tray down on the coffee table and fluttered their hard, shell-like elytra that protected their wings to produce a noise that sounded a lot like creaking wood, all  while looking at Stan expectantly.

The man rubbed the back of his neck and hesitantly responded, “Uh, a-are you talking? To me?”

The insectoid rubbed its back legs together in a quick burst of noise and almost seemed to smile at him, causing both Ford and the Oracle to laugh.

The seven-eyed woman supplied as she suppressed her giggle, “Yes Stan, they are talking to you.” And sat daintily on one of the wicker chairs nearby.

The bug took the top cover of of their tray and carefully placed it down beside the bottom half and revealed about a dozen different needles, as well as some gauze pads and disinfectant swabs that made Stan’s stomach feel uneasy. He knew he was a full grown adult that shouldn’t have gotten so upset over trivial things like this but then again, he couldn’t help it. Also on the tray was a silver cylinder, close to the size of a pencil with a trigger on one end, and they picked it up in their mouthparts and rubbed their back legs for longer this time.

Ford translated what were nonsense noises to Stan, repeating, “Stan, they’re asking if you consent to get your translator and shots today.”

Get my translator? Shit, they gotta inject it? He thought troubledly.

Stan huffed and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, sure I guess,” he told Ford.

Vist fluttered their elytra again and adjusted their grip on the smooth steel cylinder so they held it with one mouthpart and then took a disinfectant swab from the tray and swabbed the side of his neck, just below the ear.

“I feel like a dog, a dog that’s gettin’ microchipped. This thing can’t track me, can it?” Stan grumbled.

He winced when a second later, a sharp pain and a whole lot of pressure shot from the side of his neck and he reached up to cup the spot where the hurt had originated from but discovered Vist had placed a gauze pad there before he could get to it.

Holding the now empty cylinder in their mouthparts, Vist chuckled, “No Stan, that would be highly unethical. The Multiversal Alliance has declared it illegal, not that you would know what that is.”

Stan’s jaw dropped as he stared the insect in the face. “Did you- did I-? Hang on, say something again.”

Vist rubbed their back legs together but what Stan heard wasn’t untranslated white noise, but a voice as clear as if Ford or the Oracle was talking to him. “Something again.” Vist said with amusement in their voice.

“What the hell.” Stan deadpanned as realization struck him like a sucker punch to the gut.

I’m getting shots from an oversized bug in another universe. This is officially the weirdest day of my life. Stan thought in bewilderment.

Vist laughed, “See, this is why this is my favorite part of the job.”

“Holy shit.” Stan breathed, slapping his forehead. “This is really somethin’.”

Ford patted his brother on the shoulder from behind the couch and barked a laugh. “Ha! Welcome to the Multiverse, Stan.” He was quite amused by Stan’s reaction and couldn’t help but think back to when Mabel had first gotten her Universal Translator and how excited she had been to understand those around her.

Stan peered up at his brother and asked, “So, I can understand anyone we meet now without a problem?”

“About ninety nine point five percent of the time, yes.” Ford told him.

“Heh, ya nerd.” Stan smirked. When his twin only gave him an unimpressed look in response, he told Vist, “Hey, why don’t you hurry it up and gimmie the rest of these shots or whatever huh?”

Vist swiftly finished with their job of giving Stan his remaining vaccines and then promptly flew off to the city below to continue their busy day of duties, leaving Stan, Ford, and the Oracle alone on the mountaintop once more. Stan slowly flexed his upper arms, sore from receiving so many pokes, as Ford sat down beside him on the couch.

He cleared his throat, getting the other two’s attention. “Well now that that’s out of the way, thank you by the way Jess, we can discuss what we really came here for.”

The Oracle’s face turned from soft and carefree to serious and troubled. “You’re looking for Katee, aren’t you?”

Stan nudged Ford in the ribs and asked, “That’s the chick that has your gun you need to kill Bill, right?”

Both Jheselbraum and Ford nodded and the woman continued somberly, “Despite my warnings, Katee set off for the Nightmare Realm with the Quantum Destabilizer two weeks ago. I’m afraid I lost sight of her just a day after she left.”

The younger of the twins looked to his brother for answers and instead only received concern when he saw that Ford had gone as white as a sheet and was clutching his pants in a white-knuckled grip. “No… It can’t be.” He whispered painedly.

Feeling his anxiety begin to stir in his gut, Stan glanced back and forth between the alien and his brother, “No what? What does that mean?” He asked with a hint of nervousness in his tone.

“It means,” Ford began darkly with his eyes wide with fear, “that either Katee is already in the Nightmare Realm and has been for over a week, or she’s gone mad in the Blind Caverns.”

“...That sounds ominous.” Stan dictated uneasily.

Jess looked incredibly serious. “Oh it is. The Blind Caverns are an inhospitable bridge from the Multiverse to the Nightmare Realm, one that only the strongest willed people can traverse and make it out on the other side with their sanity intact.”

Ford’s mouth had gone dry as cotton and he swallowed nervously, mumbling, “That means the Quantum Destabilizer is either in the Nightmare Realm, or lost somewhere to the caverns. I can’t decide which is worse.”

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Stan knew he wasn’t being much help at the moment so he did what he could and tried his best to offer Ford some emotional support because the guy looked like he was about to crumble to dust. He put a hand on his shoulder and cooed, “Listen Ford, we’ll figure it out, okay? That’s what you do, you figure things out. Plus, now you got me too so let’s just calm down for a second.” 

Ford whipped his head to seriously stare at Stan so fast that he was positive his twin was about to retort and tell him that he didn’t care what he thought. Stan waited with his best poker face for the words to hit him like blows but after several seconds of silence, Ford only breathed, “Yes, I suppose you’re correct.” He deeply sighed, attempting to calm himself, and slowly unclenched his fists to rub his eyes and muttered, “That doesn’t make this any less of a headache to deal with though.”

“So what do we have to do then? Just tell me and I’ll do it.” Stan inquired with an anxious smile.

“We have to enter the Blind Caverns and either pray we find Katee, or pray Cipher hasn’t already destroyed the weapon and killed her in his own dimension.” He said darkly with his gaze intense enough to melt steel.

Stan nodded slowly and asked, “Uh-hu, and why are they called the Blind Caverns?”

This time, it was the Oracle to speak and her voice was grim, “Because you must find your way through completely blind. Legend has it that even just a single look once inside the caves is enough to drive one mad.”

“Oh. That’s not good.” Stan winced, not knowing what else to say.

Ford stood and replied sarcastically, “Duly noted, Stanley.”

“Hey, I’m trying my best here. I don’t know all this space demon shit like you do.” Stan shot back.

His brother said nothing of his retort and started for the front entrance, telling Stan as he passed by him, “C’mon, we have to go.”

“Right now? But we just got here.” Stan observed as he got to his feet, feeling his joints crack.

Ford looked over his shoulder as he clarified, “Yes Stan, the longer we wait, the less likely we are to retrieve the Quantum Destabilizer.” 

“But you don’t even know if it’s still in one piece, o-or if it exists at all. Is there really nothing else we can do first?” Stan thought aloud as he followed after his brother.

Ford paused as he frowned at the floor in thought while a sadness seeped through him because Stan was right, he wasn’t sure if his Cipher killing weapon had been destroyed by the demon king himself or not. With a glum exhale, he questioned his brother, “ What other choice do I have? My entire plan hinged on me getting the Quantum Destabilizer; that’s why I’m here in the first place.” 

Needless to say, things had taken a rather abrupt turn in Ford’s plans. Only ten minutes ago, he had been excited to hit the road with Stan to track down Katee and retrieve his Quantum Destabilizer. Now he wasn’t even sure she was alive anymore. It was a devastating blow to morale to be sure, but it didn’t stamp out his fighting spirit completely. This only complicated things. Things, like Stan had put, that could be figured out. A voice stirred in the back of his mind, whispering to him that he was just putting Stanley in harm's way and that it was selfish of him to do so. 

“Woah hang on, you mean what other choice do we have? And that’s why we’re here, right? I jumped through this portal too Poindexter and I’m not going to leave ya because things have gotten a little dicier.” Stan grunted, jabbing a finger into his chest.

The relief on Ford’s face was plain as day and it made a spider web of cracks break out across Stan’s heart like a broken windshield. He wanted to make things better, to help his twin, so he told him, “You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

“Heh, well then let’s go then.” Ford replied with a bright smile, feeling a subtle bloom of appreciation for his sibling in his chest. With one last turn back to Jheslebraum, he called, “Thank you Jess, we’ll hopefully be seeing you again.”

Stan agreed, “Yeah uh, thanks, for everything I guess. Nice meetin’ you.”

The Oracle stood and waved them goodbye, limping after them as they crossed the cracked patio still dotted with scorch marks. “May the Axolotl guide you, stay safe.” 

Once they had started down the steps, Stan queried, “So how’re we gettin’ to these caves of ours, exactly?”

His brother hummed in thought for a moment before pointing to the watch-like device he kept on his wrist, a Multipurpose Portaling Device Ford had called it. “With this. I can show you once we get back to the portal.”

“‘Kay.” Was all Stan said.

The trench coat wearing man led them back down the mountain just as the blue moon began to rise in the sky and Stan put his coat back on to combat the chill in the air that had begun to nip at his fingertips and ears. Each man was left in their own thoughts as they made their way back through the city, with Stan paying the other alien residents no mind and Ford remembering to take them the long way to go around the place where he had rescued Mabel from Cipher’s kidnapping scheme. Ultimately, they made it back to the very portal they had come from only hours earlier and Ford pressed a few buttons on his wrist device, calibrating the portal to take them to the proper dimension. 

“Ok Stan, listen up because I don’t want to have to repeat myself.” Ford commanded from where he stood on the second from the bottom step of the portal.

“What? Sixer what’d you say?” Stan asked on the step just below him.

Ford grumbled, repeating himself, “I said-”

Stan cut him off with a laugh, “Hah! Gotcha! I was listenin’ the whole time.”

The sweater wearing man rolled his eyes and tried to remain dignified but a slight smile got past him and curled upwards on his lips, which Stan noticed and took full advantage of.

“Admit it, you thought it was funny.” He grinned, elbowing Ford in the ribs.

Ford’s composed exterior crumbled and he found himself snickering despite himself like he often had when they were kids. “Well yes, I suppose it was a little funny.” They shared a grin and Ford persisted, “Anyways, this Multipurpose Portaling Device can locate and calibrate any portal to send us through to almost any other portal in the Multiverse. You can think of it a bit like a tube. We’re at one end and I get to choose where in the Multiverse the other end goes.”

“Alright, that makes sense I guess.” Stan shrugged.

Ford continued, “Oh! I almost forgot, this device has been modified with highly dangerous and illicit technology that allows me to force open up to two portals at any time, although at the moment I don’t have any of the cartridges needed to do so.” 

“Got it.” Stan said with a nod. “Hitting up the space black market is on the to do list, sounds like fun.”

The old scientist’s gaze turned to the sky as he thought, mentally checking that he had covered everything he needed to tell his brother concerning the device. Satisfied with his explanation, he rocked on his heels and gestured towards the idly spinning blue eye of the portal, saying, “Well I do believe that’s everything. If you have no other questions, then we can hop through the portal to Dimension 180 where the Blind Caverns await us.”

Stan stared down the eye of the portal like he owed it a considerable amount of money as he trudged up the steps past his brother and winced, “Will this one make me sick too?”

“Not as severely. You get used to it pretty quickly, I promise.” Ford reassured him, coming to his side.

“Well alright then. See you on the other side, Sixer.” Stan sighed as a heavy lump of dread formed in his stomach.

Together, they jumped through the portal.

Chapter Text

Stan’s stomach did flips inside of him while an immense wind ripped at his face and hair and a tornado of light and color assaulted his eyes. But as soon as it had all come, it was gone and his feet found the soft, lime green grassy ground, easing the nausea in his gut down to a level manageable enough to not vomit again. As he got his bearings on their new location, he discovered that they hadn’t come through a mechanical portal like he had assumed they would, but ended up in the middle of a thin forest with skinny trees tall enough for their trunks to extend several stories over their heads and completely cover the sky as effectively as a ceiling would with their slightly translucent, broad leaves. It made Stan feel like they were tiny creatures standing underneath a field of clovers more than a forest. Long soft grass blanketed the earth as small, four winged, bird-like creatures sang and flew around, nested in the trunks of the trees as a soft breeze fluttered through the area.

“Where’s the portal?” Stan puzzled, looking all around and seeing nothing.

Ford pulled his brother to the trunk of the nearest tree and shushed him as he drew his blaster and peered around the side of the plant to glance at their surroundings. He whispered, “We just came through it, a naturally occurring one that closed upon its usage.”

Stan understood his twin’s answer well enough but not why he had suddenly decided to start acting so weird. “Oookay, well what’re you being all sneaky for?”

His brother gave him a look like the answer was obvious. “Because we never know what could be on the other side of a portal, Stan. It’s best to listen for any nearby danger before doing anything.”

Stan dismissed his brother’s concern with a wave of his hand and began to walk away from the tree. “Yeah yeah, because you’re highly wanted out here, big deal.”  

“Stan!” Ford cried, reaching out for his companion but the man sidestepped out the way of his hands.

“C’mon Sixer, there’s nothin’ here. Let’s just get to those caves and get this over with.” He tried, seeing that there was obviously nothing around them.

Ford grumbled something under his breath that Stan didn’t quite catch but did peel himself away from the tree. “It’s this way.” He muttered, brushing past his brother as he pulled his bandana over his nose. “You should put your bandana on Stan, we have the same face and there’s people who’d love to see me dead.”

“Eh pass, we’re in the middle of a forest, Sixer.” Stan said in a gravelly tone.

Ford huffed, beginning to become irked with his brother. He knew the Multiverse much better than Stan did so why couldn’t he see that? He was trying to keep him as safe as he could and take precautions that would ensure they didn’t have to get sidetracked and deal with things like bounty hunters. He huffed, “Fine, suit yourself. Our destination is three hours from here, in case you were wondering.” 

“‘Kay.” Stan grunted as they set off towards their destination.

Their trek wasn’t as rigorous as Stan thought it was going to be since the elevation stayed pretty much the same for their entire journey. Everything for as far as his eyes could see, which wasn’t saying too much because of his cataracts, was just lime green grass and trees with the occasional bird. In the end, they stumbled across a sign of civilization, a long dead campfire next to a lean-to shelter constructed from the natural materials found around them. 

Ford gasped and ran to the little camp, scouring the ground for tracks. His gape fell on three toed, clawed foot prints and stated, “She’s been here,” his eyes looking through the forest at something ahead of them.

Stan followed his gaze and was mildly surprised to see that there was a break in the pattern of green no more than a few hundred paces ahead of them. Whatever it was, it was all black and rose vertically into the sky across the horizon above the trees like a towering cliff. Before he could ask questions, Ford had broken out into a sprint towards the darkness and he was forced to go after him if he didn’t want to be left behind. Their run was short lived however, when Ford abruptly stopped, causing him to run into his backside.

He made an ‘ oomph ’ noise when he made contact with his brother and stepped around to the side of him to give him a complaint when he actually saw why Ford had stopped. Before them lay a sheer vertical wall of black, glossy stone reaching out for forever in both directions and was so massive, it scraped against the sky. Directly in front of them, the mouth of an equally dark cave looked as though it had tendrils made of onyx stone clawing their way free from the bowels of the mountain. Extending on the ground in all directions from the cave was a football field length of a single slab of glossy, black rock. Everything about what stood before them screamed bad, but what made Stan’s stomach drop was the mummified remains of various animals dotted around the edge of this plane of rock, like they had gotten too close and immediately succumbed to a curse. 

A nest full of fledgling birds was in a tree nearby, with the youngsters all flapping about to test out their four wings. Their chirps got Stan’s attention and his eyes followed a particularly bold young one who flew out of his nest, away from his siblings, and straight towards the border between the forest and the obsidian sheet without a care. But the second the animal crossed the threshold out of the forest, it plummeted from the air and landed on its back, convulsing and screeching in pain as its eyes flashed with a toxic yellow as it bled from every orifice in its face and then went still, never to fly again. The child’s cries gained the attention of the bird’s more experienced parents and they flew to the forest’s edge, just out of reach of their offspring but dared not cross and step on the black rock.

“This is the Obsidian Plane.” Ford revealed darkly. “A place where all life forms of lesser intelligence succumb to the demonic magic that seeps from the Nightmare Realm. No predator, insect, or micro-organism dares cross the threshold to consume the animals that stray too far and fall victim to Cipher’s magic, lest the same fate befall them.” He explained, gesturing to the dead fledgling that lay in front of them. “As such, they simply collect here in numbers and mummify in the sun. Ironically, that makes the Obsidian Plane the most sterile place in the Multiverse.”

Stan’s jaw dropped for what felt like the hundredth time that day and stammered, “I don’t even know how to respond to that.”

Ford continued with his face stony, “It’s only due to our greater intellect that we can surpass this first obstacle in our path to the Nightmare Realm. But I’ve traversed these caves once before, over two years ago when I set off to put an end to Cipher just before you opened the portal and Mabel fell through. So I have hope we can do it again.”

The man watched as Ford picked up a long, straight branch from the ground and snapped off all the twigs attached to it until it more or less resembled a walking stick. Then he carefully stepped one foot over the threshold and then the other so he was standing on the Obsidian Plane and motioned for Stan to follow. Taking a deep breath, he mimicked his twin, taking much care in stepping onto the slab of black rock. When his head crossed the line, he felt a ripple permeate through his entire body and gained the almost overwhelming feeling that he was being watched. Like a being of unknowable power had laid its eye directly on him and could crush him with its gaze alone.

Stan grit his teeth and shook his head, trying to dispel the feeling from within his head. Ford was at his aid immediately, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not a fun feeling, I know. Just try to ignore it.”

“Holy, this is creepy.” Stan breathed as they put one foot in front of the other past mummified forest creatures that almost looked like they could belong to Earth if they didn’t all have six eye sockets and skeletons that varied slightly from what he was familiar with.

“Yes, now listen closely Stan, before we enter the cave, you are to remove your glasses and cover your eyes tightly with your bandana. It’s crucial that you see nothing of the caves for if you do, you have the possibility of going mad.” Ford instructed.

“But what about you? You can’t possibly be thinking about leading me through here with your eyes open. If you are, then you’re just stupid.” He said worriedly, eyeing the walking stick Ford held.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Stanley. I’ll be sure to keep my glasses off, unable to see much of anything inside. I have to keep a look out for Katee anyways and besides, the Oracle has installed a metal plate in my head to protect me from Cipher. I’ve done this once and I can do it again.” Ford told him with a slight growl in his voice. 

“The blind leading the blind, how dramatic.” Stan groaned, feeling the pit of dread in his gut only deepen.

“I’m aware, now if I’m remembering correctly, the journey through the caverns should take about ten hours if we make it from one end to the other. I’ve brought provisions with us if we need it.” Ford told him with an uneasy edge to his voice.

Ten whole hours? Stan thought apprehensively.

They came to a stop just at the mouth of the cave, neither of them unable to see inside because of the shroud of midnight mist that floated angrily within. Despite feeling his mouth go dry with fear, Stan so desperately wanted to be the one who protected his brother and led them through the caverns. It made him feel useless to be led along, literally blind, as Ford did all the work. But he couldn’t think of anything he could do that would be helpful in this situation and he hated it; he was out of his element here. So he tried to ignore the feeling that his every minuscule move was being monitored as he pocketed his glasses and tied his bandana around his eyes.

“O-okay Ford, I’m ready.” He said, trying to keep his voice steady as he saw nothing but fabric.

He felt Ford take his hand and begin to lead him forward, the next step he took feeling like he had stepped through an icy shower as all outside noise was no more and there was nothing but an incomprehensible murmur of millions of voices filling his head, whispering in the shadows in languages lost to history that made his mind feel like it was stuffed with cotton. The ground beneath his feet became almost sticky, like thousands of microscopic hands were reaching out through the sand to grip at his shoes and slowly pull him down to the depths of Hell. An omniscient oppression filled his body, like he was being squeezed in a vice of pure godly power that desired to turn him to mush. His breathing sped up, sucking in more and more of the thick, clinging fog that poisoned his lungs and made him feel like he was dying. But paradoxically, the faster he breathed, the less oxygen he received and he began to tremble and sweat, his hand becoming clammy and cold in Ford’s. He fell to his knees and let out a moan of anguish like he had never heard before in his life and the countless grasping hands sprung from their graves and clutched at his pants and coat, starting to drag him down. 

Then there was a pair of arms around his midsection and he was yanked off the floor and held tightly in Ford’s embrace. “It’s okay Stanley, try to calm your mind. Don’t listen to them, I’m right here.” His brother cooed steadily, rocking them both back and forth softly.

With trembling arms, Stan returned the hug and said shakily, “H-how far have w-we gotten?” While trying to focus on his twin and the way they held each other.

Ford didn’t respond immediately, a bad sight for sure, Stan knew. Eventually he conveyed, “Not more than a few steps to be completely honest. But first entering is always one of the worst parts.”

The man managed to slow his breaths to a more regular level, sensing that he was returning to his own head and he was finally able to think again. “ One of the worst parts?”

“...Yes.” His brother winced. There was a minute of silence between them where they just held on to each other, one that Ford broke with a whisper, “Do you feel ready to continue, Stan?”

Frankly, Stan still felt like his very existence was being violated by standing in here but he couldn’t turn back now, not without a fight at least. “Yeah…” He said only half certainly.

“Ok.” Ford ended the hug and took his hand again, gripping it like a lifeline as he heard his brother take another step forward on the sandy ground. 

Stan could do nothing but grit his teeth and follow.

Some time later, after what could have been either minutes or centuries, they came across their first big hurdle in their path. A small silver pool of liquid that glowed softly, no longer than a car and no deeper than their ankles, blocked most of their way forward, with only a sliver of dry land hugging the wall. Through his blurry vision and the soft glow of the liquid, Ford could make out the rippling patterns on the walls and ceiling, like they were in the belly of some eldritch beast. Toxically yellow, slit pupiled eyes dotted the darker than night stalagmites that grew towards the roof at varying lengths, staring at him and Stanley with an eldritch gaze that made him feel ill enough to vomit. The expression in the rocks was that of immense curiosity, like a child that had captured an ant in their hands and watched it crawl around on their upturned palm, confused and disoriented in the grasp of a being of incomprehensible intellect. Not Cipher’s gaze, Ford recognized, but something just as demonic and deadly all the same.

It was difficult for Ford to make out any specific details of their surroundings because he wasn’t wearing his glasses, but he could have sworn he hadn’t seen a pool like that the last time he had been down here. An electric zap of anxiety rushed through him and he battled to keep it at a manageable level. He wasn’t lost, he couldn’t be lost. He knew these caves and he was going to find Katee in them and get all three of them and the Quantum Destabilizer out to safety, he told himself. Something at the back of his mind hissed against his reasoning, telling him it was already hopeless and weighing down his other thoughts.

“Ford, why’d you stop?” Stan called, sounding far away and echoing.

The spark of anxiety caught on his flammable insides and he fought to no avail to stamp out the flames as he began to panic. Stanley wasn’t with him anymore. Where had he left him? He could have sworn he was right there just a second ago so why was he such a bad brother to have left him behind?

“Stan? Stan, where are you?” Ford yelled.

Someone squeezed his hand and instantly calmed his fear. “I’m right here Poindexter, still holding your hand.”

The sigh of relief Ford made was loud enough to be heard around the entire cavern. “I thought…” He dared not finish the rest of his sentence, as if speaking it would bring it to pass.

“That I was far away? Yeah you sounded like that too.” He chuckled nervously. “But seriously, why’d we stop?”

“There’s a pool ahead of us. Take the walking stick, I’m going to lead us to the lip, near the wall and guide us across.” Ford explained, trying and failing to hide the lingering fear in his tone.

Stan took the branch from his brother’s hands and used it like he was blind, finding the edge of the pool and following it with the stick while making sure he stayed to the right of it. His back pressed against the cold, moist rippling stone of the wall as he shuffled along and a shiver went down his spine when he swore he could feel it breathing. The rock gently swayed in and out like a pair of working lungs as its moisture stuck his coat to his backside and made him grimace. Now that he was listening for it, he could hear it, the sway of the rocky walls that sounded a whole lot like air moving in and out of a body. 

Is this whole place alive? He wondered as a feeling of disgust settled in his stomach.

He took another small step forward and immediately regretted it. The place he had chosen to put his foot was slick from the dampness and his shoe slipped right off the lip of the pond and into the liquid. The moment his shoe hit the surface of the water, the never ending murmurers erupted into a screeching of inhuman voices as an army of inky, tendril-like arms shot from the bottom and thrashed to find him, gripping onto his clothing and skin to drown him in the liquid. Stan screamed and tried to attack back as he fell but there were hands all over him and moving against their combined strength was a task that proved to be too difficult for him.

Blam! Blam! Blam! 

Several streaks of sapphire blue light lit up the space and Stan saw the flash of color beyond his blindfold as the grasping hands started to dwindle in numbers. He flailed against their onslaught sitting in the pool, beginning to successfully fight them off. Ford didn’t let up on firing his blaster either, which aided him immensely in his crawl to the sandy shore on the other side, where Stan was able to blindly kick the last of the grasping claws off of him and the yelling returned to their regular mutterings. But as soon as they had gone, there was another one that grabbed his shoulder and he screamed, kicking against it.

“Stan, Stan it’s me! Stop!” Ford cried, immediately letting go.

The younger of the twins wasn’t able to see the guilty look Ford gave him so he coughed, “You gave me a heart attack, “ as he began to shiver from the wet and cold.

Ford quickly dove for his brother’s hand again and once he had it securely in his grip, he winced, “I’m… sorry. A-are you alright?” 

“I’m fine, just a little cold.” Stan shivered, getting to his feet.

“The blindfold didn’t fall off at all, did it?” He quizzed, his voice thick with concern.

“No, no it didn’t, don’t worry.” Stan breathed, relishing the warmth of Ford’s hand. “Let’s get away from this horror show, yeah?”

“Good idea.” His twin agreed, feeling the dozens of eyes staring into his backside like steak knives had been stabbed into his flesh. It made his gut squirm with a fear that was primal and raw because even the most reptilian parts of his brain knew there was something seriously wrong with this place.

Then there was the fact that he hadn’t recalled crossing that pool the first time he had come through here. It made him anxious that they were lost. If they were lost, then that would mean they would never get out of here, and if they never got out of here then they would go mad and then starve to death. They would never get back home and he would never see Mabel again and she would be on her own, just like they were right now. It was terrible, there was something feverish and frenzied stirring at the edges of his mind, staying at bay but slowly swarming closer as time ticked on. Keeping a rational train of thought was getting more difficult by the second because they were lost and would never see daylight again. 

The worry in Ford’s chest buzzed louder, fizzling out his calming thoughts in favor of swirling paranoid ones. We’re dead, we’re dead, we’re dead. They chanted over and over in his head, the alarm making his eyes dart around at the damp, rippling walls. Shadows of limbs and formless shapes danced in the corners of his vision but when he turned to get a better look at them, they always disappeared, spiking his anxiety even further. The same, toxically yellow eyes stared at them as they passed, their alien curiosity powerful enough to do damage to his mind and send it reeling into unstable depths. They were unblinking, unfeeling, unknowable and incomprehensible in nature to his mortal head and it made him fret with feverish energy.

What do they want?! Why won’t they leave me alone?! His thoughts wailed.

The old scientist abruptly stumbled when a group of the same grasping, inky hands emerged from the sandy ground and grabbed him around his ankles to trip him. But when his eyes shot down to get a good look at his captors, they were gone and he was free. Stan gave no indication of even having noticed his fall but only stopped when he did, wordlessly waiting for his brother to continue as he continued to shiver. Ford shakily climbed to his feet as the whisperings drilled into his psyche, making his breathing pick up in speed.

But no, he had to do this. He had done this once and he could do it again, it had to be done for Stan. Despite feeling his twin’s hand in his own, he felt an immense distance between them, as far as the lengths of the earth itself as the omniscient oppressive energy from the Blind Caverns continued to drive mental screws into his brain. It was like he was stranded all alone on a tiny outcropping of rock in the middle of a dark ocean with pounding, white capped, waves. Being in the vile presence of the caves themselves was beginning to take its toll on him. He fell again at the hands of the grasping arms and saw nothing of them once more when his gaze darted to see them. It exasperated him further to feel their tightly clawing fingers but see none of it when he looked, like he couldn’t even trust his basic senses anymore. 

No, no, no. I’m slipping, I can’t be slipping. Keep going. He fought desperately, clinging to his rationality as the mental waves battered him. But he was starting to tire and his head began to pound, like someone was hammering nails against the inside of his skull. But we’re lost, hopelessly lost. We’ve already succumbed to the cave. We’re dead men walking. The panic-stricken part of him howled louder than the rest of him.

An idea crossed his mind and a good one at that, perhaps he could keep his head above the water if he just kept talking to Stan. “Stan? Have the hands been tripping you up too?” He asked far more frantically than he had meant to.

“N-no Poindexter.” Stan shivered distractedly, his slurred speech sounding like he came from far away.

Something hissed jaggedly in Ford’s brain, sending a flicker of mania up his spine and infecting his brain. A whispering of confusion and contention that came from everywhere and nowhere all at once, one that he couldn’t pull out of his head no matter how hard he tried. It made him tremble as a cold sweat began to trickle down his face, the insanity reaching out and latching onto his neurons. He lies. It is what he always does. He lies. It is what he always does. He lies. It is what he always does. It repeated over and over again, burning his brain.

The scientist gritted his teeth in anguish as he began to pant, mentally curling up into a ball in an attempt to ride out the onslaught of the murmurings as his vision flicked up to see where the path ahead of them led. He made brief eye contact with the sea of eyes, an immense mistake on his part, since their piqued curiosity now turned to something infinitely more dangerous; amusement. 

“Leave me alone…” Ford choked out with a quiet wail. He had to ignore them no matter what because if he didn’t, it would be all over.

Stan didn’t seem to notice his brother’s plea, which Ford took fretful notice of. Something flickered in the bright eyes of the Blind Caverns upon seeing the trench coat wearing man’s great anxiety, something that looked a lot like glee. The shadows in the corners of his vision crept in further as the endless muttering voices came together as one. He’ll never change. Stan lies. He lies and he does it to you. 

Ford’s skull felt like it was about to burst open as his heart beat in his ears and the abominations stalked closer, filling him with a maddened energy. The Blind Caverns did have a point, Stan did lie a lot and he very well could be fibbing now. After all this time too, after what could have been hours of their trek, Stan was backstabbing him by refusing to be truthful about even the most trivial of things. 

The murmurs continued relentlessly, filling his head with poison. What’s to stop him from taking off his blindfold? How are you to ever lead him through if he descends into madness by his own hand? 

That was right, he couldn’t guarantee Stan’s protection down here if all it took to make him lose his mind was an accidental slip of the blindfold. Kicking himself mentally, Ford came to the maddening conclusion that he hadn’t done enough for Stan, in the past and in the caves. There had to be a way he could make sure he couldn’t see the horrors he was experiencing right now. He had to do something about this, and quickly. In the past, he hadn’t kept him safe enough, but that could all be fixed now that he had an idea.

Meanwhile, Stan was battling demons of his own. 

The immense noise of whisperings grated against his very soul, rubbing it raw and bleeding. But one stood out against the rest, its voice like a snake as it talked directly to him, You want to prove your worth to Ford don’t you? To keep him safe? How are you expected to do that when you can’t even look at him?

“N-n-no. I can’t… Ford said… no.” He replied weakly to the voices, exhausted from all his shivering and his mind ready to give up the ghost from the constant mental battles he fought to keep himself sane, which Ford didn’t even seem to notice, he thought with a jolt of fear. Ford didn’t notice he was even struggling.

Just a peek, Stanley. It’ll do you no harm. We promise. If the voice could grin, Stan was sure it would be. Despite being completely blind down here, the murmurings themselves were pressing an immense weight against his mind like his head was in a hydraulic press. More and more pressure was pressing against him until he inevitably wouldn’t be able to take it any longer and his mind would explode. It certainly felt that way with the way his head was aching something awful. 

Then you’re a deadweight to him, just like you always are. Following blindly behind him like you do now, dragging him down. Prove yourself worthy to him. The countless muttering voices shook in his mind with such an intensity that it broke him. He gave in, too tired to fight back against the horrors of this place any longer and even as a part of him panicked at the madness that flooded in, the greater part was grateful for the blissful relief.

Something broke Stan’s mind free from the pelting of voices, Ford’s hand in his own. It was trembling. “...Ford, are ya ok?” He cringed for even asking such a stupid question, of course Ford was fine. He didn’t need Stan bothering him right now, he was trying to get them both through here and find someone more important than he was. He didn’t even know why he had asked, he really shouldn’t have. He was just getting in the way. Maybe it would be better if he just wandered aimlessly, no longer a burden to Ford, until he perished.

He doesn’t need you. The cave whispered to him venomously and it was impossible for Stan to ignore it.

His twin’s voice was strained with fear when he spoke. “S-Stan, w-we need… I need…” 

“What, what is it?” Stan cried with a feverish edge in his voice. He was desperate to do whatever it was that Ford needed of him, to prove to him that he was of worth.

He couldn’t see Ford take the dagger from his boot and clutch it in a white-knuckled grip in his hand but he did hear his next words. 

“Stan… I need… your eyes.” Ford said with trembling breath, his eyes bright and far from sane.

“Uh, sure.” Stan said simply. Too simply. “Do you need me to take off the blindfold?” He asked, thumbing the bandana that covered his eyes, hoping for clarification.

“NO!” Ford roared, tackling his twin to the ground and pinning his arms out to his sides. Then with a voice as thin as glass, he said softly, “Never.”

Ford began to weep as he took his canteen and opened it to douse a spare patch of gauze with water. But the only thing that came out onto the cloth was ash and he furrowed his brows, confused. In fact, their entire water supply had turned to ash. Oh well, he would just have to carry on without water. For Stan.

“Hey Ford, I’m sorry. Whatever it was, I’m sorry. Whatever it is, I’ll listen to ya.” Stan said flatly in a quiet tone where he lay on the ground, not in a clear enough state of mind to see the absurdity of it all. He felt especially docile in that moment, his head too full of fog to really think clearly about anything at all. The only thing he knew he needed to do was to listen to Ford.

“Don’t worry Stan, I’ll take care of you.” Ford said in a hushed tone as he kneeled over his blindfolded brother, dagger in hand. 

“Ford please,” Stan begged quietly, “jus’ don’t leave me.”

“Shh… It’s okay.” Ford cooed as he shook. “Keep your eyes closed.”

Stan did as he was told as Ford gently moved the bandana away from Stan’s left eye, holding the knife over his face. His hands trembled with pure insanity, single minded in his task to be better and do better for his brother as the darkness cackled, the ocean of whispering voices screaming in the distance and inside his head at the same time. Dozens of abominable, piercing eyes watched in anticipation all around as the thick black fog enveloped them, making it impossible to see more than a few feet in any direction but that mattered not to the brothers. The Blind Caverns had consumed them. 

But just as the cold steel pressed against Stan’s underside eyelid and drew the first drops of blood, the noise of a few falling rocks, followed by a soft hissing, came from a side passage not far off and Ford froze. 

“Did you hear something move too?” Stan whispered shakily.

Ford looked in the general direction of the noise and muttered, “...Yes.” He saw a shape in the shadows begin to slink towards them, one he couldn’t tell if it was real or not. “I see something, it’s moving towards us.” Even in his damaged state of mind, he knew that he would have to determine if this new thing was a friend of foe before continuing with his plan. So he paused, bringing his knife down to his side as he tried to decipher what the movement was.

Stan asked frantically, still laying on the ground as the cut on his face bled freely, “Well what is it?” 

The shape moved closer to them, just enough for Ford’s poor eyesight to paint a messy picture of something that looked like an animal. The blob of red and white shapes he could make out raised what he assumed was its head and sniffed in the air, chirping towards them curiously. It was only then that Ford realized that whatever was in here with them was at least as long as, if not longer than, a car and stood taller than they did and must have weighed a whole lot more than them. He squinted his eyes, straining to conclude if the newcomer was a threat or not and the beast took a couple of steps closer, sharpening in Ford’s view some.

“It almost looks like…” Ford paused.

The shape hissed like an animal and leapt into the air to lunge at Stan and Ford realized a second too late that the beast was in fact, Katee. 

“Katee!” Ford shouted, shoving his brother out of the line of fire and jamming his walking stick lengthwise in between her jaws just as she landed on top of him. 

Katee clamped down on the stick hard and growled something from her throat that was primal and beastly, drooling onto Ford’s face hungrily as her nostrils flared. Ford saw that the Quantum Destabilizer hung loosely from the dinosaur as she clawed at him but in his current state of mind, he hardly even recognized it. 

“Sixer! Sixer, what’s going on?” Stan exclaimed, apprehensively climbing onto his hands and knees and scooting backwards as to not get in Ford’s way.

Good, yes. You’re doing well. The caverns hissed in his ears and he listened.

“We found Katee!” Ford gritted out as he strained to keep her snapping jaws at bay. But his strength was failing, even in her bony state, she was still much heavier and stronger than he was and he found that now matter how hard he pushed against the walking stick, her drooling maw was slowly inching closer.

“And we’re yelling about this, why?” Stan boomed in the direction of the growls and his brother’s grunts of exertion, unable to see the fight that was right in front of him.

“Because she’s trying to eat me!” Ford exclaimed feverishly.

The stick snapped and the dino opened her jaws and thrust her head forward, straight for his neck. Ford just barely managed to grab her by the throat and keep her razor sharp teeth from cutting into his windpipe. Her hot breath could be felt against his face and her breath reeked like someone who hadn’t eaten in a very long time. 

In a desperate last ditch effort, the man kicked at Katee’s stomach, causing one of the five shielding jingle bells infused with the Axolotl’s magic to ring with fiery brilliance and deflect the hit of the boot to her gut. The magical bell briefly illuminated the room with rosy color, making the watching eyes shut with a screech, the lingering shadows evaporate with a hiss, and the countless murmuring voices fall silent as the power of their magical foe shone in their domain and drew them back, momentarily blinding them. The light reached the eyes of the two men, briefly washing the newly fallen madness from them. The same couldn’t be said for the dinosaur who had spent much longer in the cavern’s eldritch grasp and the burst of magic seemed to have no effect on her whatsoever as she continued to bite at her next meal’s jugular.

It was only then that Ford was finally able to process what was really going on and the joy that came from the sudden realization that they had found the Quantum Destabilizer was drowned out by the despair in his mind that came from understanding what he was just about to do to his brother. As Katee growled, he felt just how skinny she was in his grip and it made him worry for her since he could easily feel her neck vertebrae just beneath her skin. Then his eyes flicked to her face and his stomach dropped. Katee was staring at him with her blindfold hanging in such a manner that it only covered one eye. Her other was missing. She had clawed it out.

“Hang on, I’m coming for ya Ford!” Stan cried, finally understanding that Ford really needed his help as his hands reached up for his blindfold.

“NO!” Ford roared, stopping Stan in his tracks. “Under no circumstances should you ever remove that!”

The dino’s maw came closer to him, her front teeth breaking the skin on his neck as his arms trembled while they burned. But just as he thought his old friend was going to land the killing blow to him and begin to feast on his flesh, a flash of color sidelined the predator and knocked her off of him. Ford scrambled to his feet to see Stan pummeling the paladin blindly with his brass knuckles, setting off her remaining four bells that rang with flashes of red. Katee roared a furious wail that shook the walls of the cavern and kicked Stan off of herself and flailed to her feet, panting like a famished animal.

“I-I couldn’t hit her.” Stan wheezed exasperatedly from the floor, clutching his midsection as he fought to regain his breath that was knocked out of him.

“Her bells are magical, they block one shot each. But I do believe you got through them all.” Ford explained, keeping his eyes fixed on the dinosaur.

She flexed her one hand slowly as she blindly sniffed them out and then abruptly paused, looking down at her chest in confusion. The dino almost seemed to gain some sanity back as she patted her chest down desperately and her head darted around the room as if she was looking for something. Between the three of them, the Quantum Destabilizer lay on the ground, giving Ford an idea.

As Stan climbed to his feet with a groan, Ford picked up his demon killing weapon and took one of Stan’s hands while he rapped on the outer shell of the gun with the other, calling out to the dino, “Hey, the gun’s over here if you want it, Katee.”

The dino’s head snapped to the noise emitted from the Quantum Destabilizer and she hissed, crouching low and stalking towards it.

“Ford what are you doing? You’ve lost it!” Stan questioned in bewilderment. He didn’t know what to do, it seemed like his brother had actually, finally lost his mind while he was blindly trapped with a hungry animal. 

“Trust me, Stanley. I have a plan.” Ford tried to reassure him.

“No way Poindexter, you’re going to get us both killed.” Stan retorted, untying his blindfold. 

“No! Stanley, don’t!” Ford wailed desperately, reaching out for his hands.

The two men were too caught up in their disagreement to see Katee lunge for the gun and she knocked both of them onto the ground and gave Stan’s face a not so warm welcome with the sandy earth. He cracked his eyes open and a shrill symphony of screams so loud it nearly split his skull rang in his head as he saw the inside of the Blind Caverns for the first time. Dark shapes fluttered at the corners of his vision and powerful, neon yellow eyes stared hungrily at his soul from where they sat attached to stalagmites and stalactites. Around them all was an impenetrable fog darker than the moonless night that made it impossible to see much further than a few paces in any direction. For once, Stan was glad he didn’t have his glasses on.

“Holy shit, she’s a dinosaur.” Stan gasped, getting his first real look at Katee.

The dinosaur in question got to her feet, clutching the Quantum Destabilizer so tightly in her arm that she shook. With a ferocious snarl, she lunged at Ford this time.

“Damn you Stanley, why won’t you listen to me?” Ford bellowed on the ground, underneath the hungry jaws of the paladin he was barely keeping away.

“I need to be able to see in this situation, you idiot.” Stan seethed back, pummeling Katee in the face.

She whined in pain as she stumbled backwards, losing her grip on Ford’s weapon once more and he dove for it and snatched it up greedily. “Everything would have been just fine if you just trusted me.” He retorted angrily.

“Yeah, like how you were going to stab my eyes out? That would’ve been just fine?” Stan fumed, stepping in between his brother and the hungry dinosaur, flashing his brass knuckles in front of him.

“You were going to let me.” Ford snapped.

The countless voices shrieked in their heads once more as the Blind Caverns came back to them in full force, causing Ford to drop the demon killing weapon and wince in pain, covering his ears. Deadweight, leave him. Take the gun and leave him for her jaws. It growled at him.

“W-we gotta get outta here, Sixer. This place is crazy.” Stan groaned, feeling an explosion of pain in the base of his skull that made him see white.

Even Katee was affected by the shrill scream and she roared in pain as she pawed at her head, stamping her foot while trying to physically shake the yells from her mind.

“That’s why I wanted you to keep the blindfold on!” The old scientist yelled, slinging the Quantum Destabilizer around his shoulders.

“Well there’s no use whinin’ about it now, is there?” Stan fumed back, sidestepping Katee as she charged and grabbing her around the shoulders. 

She began to buck furiously in an attempt to throw Stan off of her but her strength was rapidly depleting in her malnourished state and only after a couple of tries, she was overpowered by the man, who pinned her to the ground. The paladin made a rather pathetic series of whines as she weakly kicked her legs and thrashed her tail in a last ditch effort to free herself but it was no use, she had little fight left in her. 

Ford huffed and tried to keep himself from collapsing onto the floor and curling up into a ball under the pressure of the endless whispers as his gaze flicked over the hungry looking eyes and they attacked his head, sending another flurry of paranoia to his brain that he was only just barely able to fight off. “Y-y-yes, we need t-t-o leave.” Ford grit out as his chest heaved despite his swirling anxiety telling him to take the gun and leave both of them behind.

“So whadda we do with this scaly bastard here?” Stan asked as he continued to wrestle against Katee’s weak struggling.

Ford bit his lip uncertainly as he mentally went through their supplies, wondering if there was anything they could use to somehow incapacitate or otherwise restrain the woman to lead her from the caves. He knew he couldn't leave her behind, it was the last thing he wanted to do. 

She’s lost to us, leave her be. Let us consume her. The Blind Caverns muttered with a million different voices, ringing so painfully in Ford’s head that he stumbled backwards into the dripping wall and then onto his knees, thousands of tiny oozing black hands reaching out of the sand to grip his pants and bury him beneath the earth. Stan’s hold on Katee loosened when the whisperings of the caves hit his ears and he cried out in pain as the dino did the same underneath him. He squeezed his eyes shut, riding out the echoing of the cavern’s vocalization. 

The old scientist climbed to his feet and fought against the countless grasping mitts, stomping them down once again. His eyes went to Stan struggling against Katee, his gaze landing on Mabel’s crossbow that hung from Stan’s backpack, or more specifically, the grappling hook that was still attached to the underside. Another idea sprung into his head, giving a tiny flicker of hope to his otherwise downcast mood at the moment.

“Stan, the rope of the grappling hook. We can use it to restrain Katee and get us all out of here.” He announced, a genuine tiny smile appearing on his face.

Katee gained a second wind and she bucked hard, nearly knocking Stan off of her but he held strong and readjusted his grip around her midsection as he wheezed, partly from wrestling the woman and partly from the strain on his brain from being able to see inside the cave. “Well make it quick then, I’m strugglin’ here.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll try my best.” He replied, trudging across the soul sucking ground like it was waist deep mud and taking the crossbow into his arms.

Grabbing the hook and leading out the line onto the floor, he explained, “Ok Stanley, I’m going to tie her mouth shut and her arm to her body, so I’ll need you to work with me here. See if you can pin her down by her neck.” 

On the ground, Stan scooted forward with a grunt so he held the dino down by her neck, allowing her body to be free enough to begin an attempt at standing. She got her feet underneath her and it seemed like she was going to be able to wiggle out of Stan’s grasp but just as she began to raise herself off the floor, Ford grabbed her around her middle and wrestled her to the earth once more, his added weight keeping her firmly down. Katee growled angrily when she was stopped from getting free and it turned into a hissing roar when Ford pinned her arm to her chest and began to tie the rope to the grappling hook around her body. 

Now with her arm securely tied in place, the scientist gripped the remaining length of the rope and continued, “Alright Stan, I’ve got her arm. You’re going to have to keep her mouth shut so I can tie it closed.”

Feeling very much like he was wrestling a crocodile, Stan responded as he breathed heavily, “Oh great, yeah I’ll just get right on keeping the dinosaur from biting our heads off,” trying to ignore the way the shadows swam around in the corner of his eye and made his head spin. Underneath him, Katee gave another furious growl as she attempted to lift her head to bite him.

You can do it Stan, you’ve fought a dinosaur before. What’s the difference between then and now? He thought to himself, grabbing the base of Katee’s jaw with one hand and the back of her grey crest with the other and battling against her muscles to slowly but surely force her mouth closed.

Ford stiffly nodded and leapt off of his old friend, swiftly working to tie her snout firmly shut as her nostrils flared with rage. She kicked and squirmed, thrashing her tail behind her as she tried to move her arm that was pinned against her body to claw her maw free but it was no use. She was tied.

“Got it!” Ford exclaimed after he tied the final knot and reached out for the crossbow on the ground so he could effectively have control over her.

Stan leapt off of her like she was on fire and Katee scrambled to her feet and tried to pull away from them but the line that connected her restraints to the crossbow kept her leashed. But after her long wrestle with Stan, she no longer had the strength to keep up her fight and she quickly gave up, breathless. 

“Great, now let’s go!” Stan yelled, grabbing his twin by the elbow and beginning to drag them back the way they came.

Ford didn’t protest but knocked on his Quantum Destabilizer, the metallic rapping echoing around the space and gaining Katee’s attention. She tilted her head towards the noise and began to blindly follow, just like Ford had hoped she would. 

“Aha! Yes, it’s working. Close your eyes Stanley, I’m leading us out of here.” He instructed, taking his brother’s hand. 

“And just leave you to do everything by yourself? No way.” Stan retorted, sounding rather desperate.

“Save your sanity Stanley or this will have all been for nothing. We can’t both risk going mad again, It’s a miracle we’re able to even form coherent sentences right now.” Ford barked, thrusting the bandana into his arms.

Stan stared down at the strip of fabric in his hands, debating whether or not he trusted Ford enough to willingly blind himself again and be led through the caves completely at his mercy. He needs you. Cast that blindfold out. The caves muttered oppressively at his soul, the slit pupiled eyes studying him acutely enough to make his knees weak.

“Nope.” Stan said quickly, retying the blindfold over his eyes. If the caves were telling him he would be okay keeping it off then he was definitely going to do the opposite of their command.

So Ford began the treacherous journey back to the mouth of the Blind Caverns, feeling his sanity slipping with every step he took as he led both Stan and Katee along with him. They passed passages and silvery waterways that had definitely not been there before, causing the trenchcoat wearing man’s mania to climb to dangerous levels. His mind wailed and gnashed its teeth, crying out that they were doomed to fail, never to see sunlight again. Panic clawed its way up his chest and into his throat every time he caught a glimpse of those always watching eyes and he had to fight viciously to rationalize, compartmentalize, and separate the madness from his rapidly deteriorating sound mind. His whole entire body shook with each passing second, his breathing ragged and his heart drumming in his ears. The only thing still keeping him going was the mantra he repeated in his head, just keep walking, just keep walking, just keep walking .

The caves hissed inside his head, But why? You don’t even remember where you’re going, their never ending sea of whispers finally breaking him.

He fell to his knees, gasping for air as he felt his soul being sucked from his body. Where was he? What was he doing? What was his name? He couldn’t even remember a single memory from his life, all he knew in that moment was the all encompassing presence of the Blind Caverns.

“Ford, are you okay?” Someone said from far away.

Then there was a pair of arms around him, picking him up and dragging him forward. Who it was he couldn’t be sure. He was so tired, unable to think clearly enough to even finish a single thought. But then he was dragged across the threshold and the sunlight hit his skin once more and he gasped for air like he had just resurfaced after being underwater for a very long time and his sense of self came flooding back to him. His name was Stanford Pines and he knew it with a surety. 

Ford blinked against the evening sun several times and he found himself lying on the glassy black ground of the Obsidian Plane, the rock still warm from the heat of the day as he clutched the crossbow tightly. “Ugh…” He groaned nauseously, his stomach sick and full of nightmares.

Stan hoisted him to his unsteady feet and let Ford wrap an arm around his shoulders for support before walking him towards the forest. “C’mon Poindexter, just a little further.” Stan pleaded, sounding rather frightened.

The scientist made it into the forest, feeling a weight lift off his chest when they crossed the barrier from the Obsidian Plane to the trees, and to Katee’s camp by half walking and half being dragged by Stan. He and his twin collapsed onto their hands and knees as the dino fell to hers beside them, breathing heavily. 

“M-made it.” Stan gasped, bringing a hand to his face in disbelief. They had made it out, they were safe. It made him want to laugh and cry at the same time but he did neither, instead slowly turning his head to look at his brother and make sure he was okay.

Ford appeared rather pale but mumbled, “Yes,” agreeing weakly as an immense relief washed away his anxiety. The crossbow tugged in his hands and his head raised to see Katee had gotten to her feet and was trying to pull away from them, still tied tightly in her bounds. With trembling hands, Ford gave the crossbow to his brother and began to untie her.

“Sixer, how do you know she’s not just gonna try to eat us again?” Stan asked apprehensively, clutching the crossbow tightly.

“Um, I don’t.” He winced as he finished with the knot.

The rope abruptly became slack as the dino yanked, causing her to pull herself over onto her side and she dry heaved on the ground, her stomach emptying itself of nothing as her blindfold finally fell away from her face. Her breathing was a heavy pant as she curled her tail around herself and hugged her one arm to her stomach and gazed feverishly to the treetops with her remaining eye. Both twins took several steps away from her, keeping a safe distance from the poor creature as her breathing slowed and her eye gradually sharpened with intelligence.

After what felt like an eternity, she croaked, “Ow… M-m-my h-head…”

“Katee, what happened?” Ford demanded, rushing towards her.

Stan grabbed his brother by the shoulders and yanked him backwards, exclaiming, “Stanford, are you crazy? You’re gonna get mauled.”

Ford shrugged his brother’s hands off of him and came to her side despite Stan’s continual protests, falling to his knees. “Katee, are you alright?”

“F-Ford? Wh-why are you… h-here?” She shivered. Her fearful eye shifted from Ford to Stan and widened in alarm. “Oh I’ve l-lost it… I’m seeing t-two of th-them…” Katee whispered to herself, horror stricken.

“No Katee, you’re perfectly sane! …In that regard anyways.” Ford corrected her, holding up his hands disarmingly. He gestured to Stan and told her, “This is my twin brother, Stanley.”

“Hey.” Stan said awkwardly, giving her a small and stiff wave.

“...Oh. H-hi s-s-s-Stan, n-ni-ice t-to…” She trailed off cradling her head, unable to finish even a simple greeting.

“Here, you must be hungry.” Ford supplied, opening his pack and rummaging around for their rations as Stan snorted behind him.

The man twisted his lip in worry when he discovered that all their food had turned to sand. He dumped the bag out in his hand, the grains running through his fingers as he stared at them dumbly. 

“Y-yeah, that h-h-happens…” Katee mumbled, looking sadly at the pile of sand on the ground.

“Didja not bring anything to eat or drink the last time you went through?” Stan asked with slight bewilderment, reading his twin’s confusion.

Ford felt his cheeks pinken as he avoided eye contact with his twin and sheepishly responded, “I was fully prepared to die fighting Cipher so erm, no I didn’t.”

Rather appropriately, Stan smacked his forehead at Ford’s words, earning him a glare from his twin.

“Why a-are y-y-you he-e-ere?” The paladin managed to ask, propping herself up on her elbow and looking a rather sickly pale shade of red and purple.

As Ford helped her sit upright, he explained, “Well, once Mabel and I got home, we decided it would be best to put an end to Cipher so Stan and I agreed to go looking for you since you were last in possession of the Quantum Destabilizer.”

“Where’s m-m-m-Mabel?” Katee inquired with slight hopefulness in her voice as a shaky smile came to her lips.

“She ain’t here, she’s home where she’s supposed to be.” Stan answered, taking a few cautious steps closer to her.

“...Oh. Well good, f-f-for her.” Katee swallowed and attempted an apologetic look at Stan but it came out like more of a grimace. “Sorry f-f-for trying t-to… eat you. Both.” The moment she finished speaking she winced in pain and brought her hand to her head with a moan, closing her eye.

“That’s quite alright Katee, we all lost our minds back there, acting very out of character.” Ford tried to reassure her.

“You’re not gonna try anything like that again though, are you?” Stan prodded testingly.

She licked her dry lips and whispered as a tear fell from her face, “No… I-I’m s-sorry. So sorry. I feel t-terrible, em-emotionally, physically, a-and sp-p-p-iritualy.”

“Well, there’s a town about a week’s walk from here we could go to and see if they can help you. If I remember correctly, they should have a portal we can use to get you back to Dimension 52.” Ford suggested.

“That’s s-s-so… far away…” Katee mumbled, shaking like a leaf.

“Yeah, I wonder why no one wants to live near here. Sure is a mystery.” Stan replied sarcastically as he finally came to sit near his brother, satisfied that he wasn’t about to become Katee’s next meal, at least for now. Then he added, “Hey, why hasn’t anybody just blocked the entrance off? Feels like that’d solve a whole lotta problems.”

“P-p-people… ha-ave tried…” Katee stuttered as her remaining eye twitched and began to bleed. She swallowed and tried to speak again but only made some vague noises before shutting her jaw and giving up.

The old scientist picked up where the dino left off and explained, “Yes, many have tried over the years but the caverns are persistent. They eat away at any structures built nearby and rumor has it all who’ve tried to stay to fight back go insane.”

Stan exhaled and chucked a rock he had been turning around in his hands into the fire pit. “That sounds just peachy.” 

Ford’s words put a dampener on the already rather glum mood, throwing each individual into their own thoughts. The trench coat wearing man couldn’t wrap his mind around what had gone wrong. He had been through the caves once before so why couldn’t he now? Why had they been such an immense challenge for him when he had journeyed through them with relative ease the last time? Racking his brain for answers, he found none.

“L-let’s just… sleep here tonight.” Katee breathed weakly, already starting to close her eye as she laid back against a log bench near the dead campfire, not even bothering to take shelter in her lean-to. “Get some rest… worry tomorrow.”

Stan stretched out and also laid back against the log, resting his hands behind his head as the sunset turned the long grass golden and the cloudless sky beyond the forest bubblegum pink. “Sounds good to me.”

The scientist got to his feet, agreeing, “Yes I can start a fire. Plus we passed a stream on the way here, we could boil some drinking water.” He held out his hand to help Stan up and told him, “Help me gather some sticks Stanley, I won’t have you laying here while I do all the work.”

Evening turned to twilight, which turned to night as three waxing moons rose in the sky one after another. Small otherworldly insects chirped as darkness covered the land and cooled the air and the occasional low howl could be heard in the distance. By the light of a green fire, two brothers relished the first sips of water they had since that afternoon as Katee slumbered beside them, getting her first peaceful rest in weeks.

Ford sighed. “It just doesn’t make sense…” he trailed off, his boot digging absent-mindedly at the pile of sand that used to be their food.

“Speak up Sixer. Can’t hear you when you’re mumblin’ like that.” Stan grunted, taking a swig from his canteen that was no longer full of ash.

“I just don’t understand. I thought my metal plate would protect me from the voices.” Ford said a little louder, his eyes on the sand.

“Yeah, but then you tried to cut my eyes out.” Stan shivered as he capped his canteen.

“Duly noted.” Ford deadpanned with irritation in his face that masked his inner guilt.

“I hope neither of us act anything like that ever again.” He winced, squeezing his hands together uncomfortably.

Ford sighed and lowered his head, enveloping his twin in a side hug as his annoyance fizzed away. “I’m sorry Stanley, I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s creepy is what it was. Never do that again, yeesh.” Stan muttered, returning the embrace. 

“...I certainly don’t plan on it.” He mumbled, his words thick with remorse and feeling fragile like glass.

“It’s ok though, we were both actin’ like lunatics back there.” Stan half-heartedly laughed as he brought his arms back down to his lap.

Ford shook his head a minuscule amount as a grimace came to his lips, caught up in the horror of it all. “I can’t believe you were going to let me…”

The other man sighed tiredly, rubbing his face, “Like I said, we both went crazy.”

“If I had known we were so wildly unprepared I wouldn’t have thrust us into the belly of that beast so eagerly.” Ford huffed, folding his arms.

Stan stroked his chin, thinking aloud, “I’m just glad that whatever magical voodoo stuff was in those bells was able to smack us with a healthy dose of reality. I can’t imagine what could’ve happened if Katee didn’t sniff us out.”

“Yes…” Ford mused, his eyes to the canopy. “The Axolotl’s magic in her bells must have counteracted whatever demonic forces had hold over our heads. It stands to reason that more magic could be the answer to our problems then.”

“Huh,” Stan dictated, scratching his arm, “so how’d you get through ‘em last time then?”

“What?” Ford asked, his gaze returning to his brother.

“The Blind Caverns I mean, how’d you get to the Nightmare Realm last time if you’re just figuring this out now? Does your metal plate not work anymore or what?”

“I no longer think my metal plate has ever done a single thing to help me in the caves… not after all the evidence pointing elsewhere. If it did, I wouldn’t have succumbed to the whispers.” Ford muttered, a shameful feeling starting up in his chest.

“So what’d you do to push through ‘em the first time then? Why can’t you now? What changed?” Stan quizzed with a shrug as he picked a piece of fuzz off his coat and flicked it into the fire.

Ford swallowed hard and stuffed his hands into his pockets self consciously. “The voices tried to torment me about you the last time as well but they didn’t affect me nearly as much as they did today. I-I think I know why now, I didn’t have anybody I was particularly close to for the caves to use against me two years ago.”

Stan nodded, “Makes sense. Mabel says you’ve changed a lot since she’s met ya.”

The younger of the twins couldn’t help but feel like he was partially at fault for their disastrous attempt at traversing the caves today, at least indirectly. His renewed closeness with his brother was exactly what had made both of them easy prey for whatever was living in there. It was horribly paradoxical to him but it all made sense, which made it even worse. He thought being here for Ford would make things easier on him, not worse. 

Stan went on, rubbing the back of his neck, “Well, I’m sorry we got screwed over today. Heh, it’s kinda my fault if ya think about it.”

Ford’s eyes snapped to Stan and stared at him owlishly. “Whatever do you mean by that, Stan?"

The man felt his stomach squirm uncomfortably and he held out his hands while he attempted to explain, “It’s just- if we had never reconnected, you probably coulda gotten through no problem. So when ya think about it, maybe I had something to do with the result of our um, well our attempt at the caves today.”

Ford’s jaw dropped and his gaze softened with a mixture of disbelief and heartbreak. “Stan,” he cooed, “how could you possibly say that? You did nothing of the sort, that demonic entity, the Blind Caverns, they prey on our humanity. That’s not your fault.”

“Oh.” Stan breathed, Ford’s words clicking into place. It actually surprised him at just how something as simple as some kind words from his brother was enough to drive right through all the doubt in his mind and cast it off like a snow plow to a snowy road. 

Ford persisted, realizing he believed his words only as he said them, “In fact, I’m actually rather proud the caves kicked our asses today, it means we care for each other.” Ford gave him one of his rather rare vulnerable smiles, lightly punching him in the arm in the process as he tried to not feel self conscious about what he was saying. 

“Huh,” Stan dictated as he felt his guilt wash away and become replaced with a warmer emotion, “thanks Ford.” He supposed Ford was right, he wasn’t at fault for loving him, it was the caves that were really to blame. 

His brother smiled sincerely at him by the light of the fire and replied, “Of course, Stanley.”

Stan dug a blanket out of his leather pack and leaned back a little further back against the log and let out a content sigh as a comfortable silence fell between them. As Ford tended to the fire, his thoughts drifted to how nice it felt to gain some sign from the universe that he was starting to do and be better. Ironically, it was the caves themselves that had hissed in his ear that he wasn’t doing enough but they had proven to him that he was on the right track. He knew he still had a long way to go with Stanley, but it was a start. Mabel’s words of comfort on the night he had told Stan of his plan to defeat Cipher came back to him. So take your family with you. But wait, that’s exactly what you’re already doing so you don’t have to worry. They filled him up with a cozy sensation, like consuming a warm stew that gave him much gratitude for his family’s forgiveness. Before long, he was also resting up against the fallen tree trunk and it wasn’t many more minutes later when the call of sleep finally pulled his eyes shut.

Chapter Text

A wind rushed with blaring intensity in Mabel’s ears as she floated as if she was a disembodied spirit looking into the dim room. She had no body so to speak, but that didn’t stop her from seeing and feeling everything. It was all happening as if it were in slow motion, the bright swirl of light in the eye of the portal, the harsh shadows it cast on the cavernous walls, and Pacifica standing wide eyed and weeping in front of it as the entire world shook. Like a ghostly spectator, she saw the wind from the foreboding machinery pull her platinum blonde hair away from her face, giving Mabel the perfect view of her bright and feverish eyes that poured out streams of tears that reflected the portal’s illumination. She weakly fell to her knees, her mouth curled in an ugly wail that was silent and drowned out by the painful whirling of air. The girl kicked up a cloud of dust as her knees hit the stony ground, her face frozen in overwhelming despair as her bloodstained arms hung limply to her sides. 

Mabel bolted upright in bed in a pool of cold sweat that made her shiver, clutching her chest with her heart pounding. Her mind was reeling as she greedily sucked in several lungfuls of air and eventually got herself to breathe easy as her heart rate slowed. Taking a moment to just listen, she concluded that all was still and dark in the house and there was no lurking danger. So she relaxed a fraction and turned her attention to what she had just witnessed under the clutches of sleep. It all felt so real, the portal room and Pacifica’s distraught, that a part of her was convinced this could be no ordinary dream. But it had to be a dream, that could be the only explanation. Somehow, she found herself doubting; it was much too vivid to be just the inner workings of her sleeping mind. Rubbing her temples, Mabel glanced at her roommate in the bed across from her and saw that the blonde was sleeping peacefully beside her and she breathed a silent sigh of relief. 

So what did her vision, could she even call it that, mean then? What was the context? Why was she seeing Pacifica of all people and why was she in the portal room? Why was the portal on and why was she covered in blood? Why was she just watching that moment like she had no physical form and wasn’t really there? The questions came to her rapidly, one after the other and Mabel found she could give none of them an answer. Vaguely, she pondered if this had something to do with the Oracle’s prophecy. With a grimace, she wondered if this was Bill’s way of getting back at her by giving her terrible dreams. Or maybe she was just starting to actually get PTSD and this nightmare was the canary in the coal mine for worse to come. Without more evidence, there was just no way to know. With a sigh, she rolled over in her bed and clutched a stuffed rabbit in her arms as she stared at the wall and waited for sleep to come once more.

Things had gone pretty well in the week since Stan and Ford had left for the Multiverse, Mabel thought as she knitted a pink sweater dotted with cat faces in the living room the next frosty afternoon. Dipper and Pacifica were getting to and from school on time, the bills had been paid, and nothing had exploded yet. Soos had been doing a great job at running the shack and everything was going smoothly. One of the conditions Stan had in place for him to leave was that there had to be an adult living with the teens in the house and Soos had happily taken the opportunity to move in, giving his old boss at least some peace of mind and Abuelita a quiet home all to herself. Mabel personally didn’t see the need for him to keep an eye on them, she watched over him more to be honest and was of the opinion that she was the more responsible of the two anyways. So all in all, she thought that she was doing a great job keeping things in order. Nevermind the fact that the dishes had been sitting in the sink for five days now and there was a two day old pizza box on the living room floor, those things just happened when you lived in a house. What she did mind however, was just how much she found herself missing her grunkles and especially Grunkle Ford.

Pausing her knitting, she set down her needles and sighed sadly as she pulled her silver handbell out of her pocket, which she always kept on her person just in case a little magic was needed to solve a problem. She kept her ceramic dagger on her for much the same reason, but hoped it would never have to be used in Gravity Falls. Now she knew that this homey little town wasn’t anything like the dangerous parts of the Multiverse she had endured, but her mindset of being prepared and staying alert had stuck with her and she hadn’t minded enough to try and change that. These protective objects reminded her of Grunkle Ford anyways so she kept them close.

While glumly thumbing the runes that circled the bell, laughter spilled into the room from the kitchen and she knew Dipper and Pacifica must have just gotten home from school. A playful smile curled upwards on her lips as a mischievous idea popped into her head and she had to stifle a giggle as she snuck her way to the kitchen doorway, her loved ones providing just the distraction from her Grunkles that she needed right now. Peering around the corner into the room, Dipper was munching away on a poppyseed muffin as Pacifica stood up on her tiptoes in an attempt to grab a glass on the top shelf. The blonde huffed and requested for her boyfriend to help her and the second he left his seat was when Mabel struck. With all the stealth of a stalking tiger, she rang her bell whispering, “Aucwcmw, afr evbd gochha,” and then snuck into room as she drew three ancient and alien runes in the air and placed her palm down over Dipper’s muffin. The spell complete, the seeds magically sprung to life and bloomed into a garden of rosy red flowers, rooted in the baked good as she sneakily returned to her hiding spot behind the doorway and covered her mouth in anticipation.

Her brother handed the cup to his girlfriend and playfully patted the top of her head, which got him a sassy eye roll in response. With a laugh, he turned back to the kitchen table and froze with a dropped jaw when he saw his after school snack had turned into a blossoming flower bed. 

“What the heck…?” He breathed as he stepped closer and poked one of the flowers.

Pacifica turned on the faucet to get herself a glass of water, only for the water to defy gravity and flow directly around her cup and into the sink. Her eyebrows pinched and she curled her upper lip in confusion and moved the glass underneath the bizarre stream of water, which moved out of her way once again. Each time she moved her cup to try and get some liquid inside of it, it darted out of the way as if it was deliberately avoiding her. Then Dipper was tapping her shoulder and she irritatedly swiveled around to see him with a rather amused look on his face while holding his muffin overgrown with poppies. 

They shared a look as they put two and two together at the same time and simultaneously they realized, “Mabel,” their heads snapping to the kitchen door. The brunette girl in question, who had been peeking around the corner, froze for just a split second under their gazes before bolting off up the stairs.

Dipper quickly set the bouquet in his hands down and darted after her, yelling, “Mabel, get back here. You have to answer for the crimes you’ve committed against my muffin!”

Pacifica gave up on trying to get a drink of water and also ran after her, her frustration turning to amusement. “Yeah, that muffin needs justice.” She called with laughter in her voice.

The teen boy jumped the last stair and raced across the attic room, only to be hit in the face with a down pillow from behind the door the second he entered Mabel and Pacifica’s bedroom. His sister leapt from behind the doorway, screaming, “Pillow fight!” as she swung the cushion around and hit him in his side.

Then Pacifica was there too and she kept Mabel at bay as he grabbed two pillows, one for him and one for her. Several minutes of laughter and play with alliances and betrayals followed as the three fought with their cushions to come out on top as the pillow fighting master. Eventually, the trio was too winded to continue and they laid on the floor grinning in a pile of their own weaponry. 

“I’m glad you guys are home. I missed you.” Mabel chirped, propping herself up on her elbows as her chest rose and fell in rapid succession.

Pacifica also sat up, hugging a pillow to her chest and resting her chin against it, “That was a pretty good prank you pulled on us back there, I was so confused.”

“Yes, prankster Mabel strikes again.” She smirked, throwing her pillow at Dipper.

Her brother caught the fluffy object and tossed it onto Pacifica’s bed as he stood. “Well I don’t know about you guys but I’m still hungry. Because somebody turned my snack into a garden.”

As Mabel giggled, Pacifica also stood and said easily, “Oh but now we gotta plant it.”

“Agreed.” The brunette teen nodded as she picked her handbell up off the floor, which had fallen out of her hands in the heat of the pillow battle. Just like that, all the hard work she had done to get her mind off of her grunkles had evaporated in an instant when she laid eyes on the instrument. She lingered on it for a second as she held it, vague memories of practicing spells by the light of a campfire as Grunkle Ford tinkered with the Quantum Destabilizer coming to mind and a melancholy feeling settled around her like the snow outside. She knew she would have told Ford about her dream last night if he was here so should she tell Dipper and Pacifica? 

“You okay, Mabel?” Dipper called from the doorway, noticing her pause.

“Hm? Oh yeah, I’m good.” She smiled, trying to not kill the pleasant mood of the other two. It wouldn’t help them to be worrying after her because missing Ford wasn’t going to solve any problems and she was sure she just needed time anyways. So she decided she could handle her one bad dream on her own, it probably didn’t mean anything anyways. But right now, she supposed a distraction couldn’t hurt. “Hey, why don’t we go do something fun?” Mabel asked, stuffing the bell into her pocket.

“Like a hike?” Dipper suggested.

“Yeah, exactly like a hike. It’d be good to get some of the ol’ fresh air.” Mabel put in, feeling her spirits wanting to lift again. 

“But it’s cold out.” Pacifica complained with a wrinkled nose.

“It’s gonna be cold for the next five months Paz, are you gonna be a hermit until spring?  Plus I’ve been cooped up in this house all day, I need to get out before I go nuts.” Mabel countered as they left the room.

The blonde reluctantly nodded because she knew that her friend had a point. Besides, she didn’t want to be around Mabel with cabin fever, that sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. “Ok ok, I’ll just bundle up then.”

Dipper patted her shoulder saying, “There you go Paz, that’s the spirit.”

After locking up the door behind her, Mabel ran off to catch up to Dipper and Pacifica, who had already set off and were half way across the yard by the time she reached them. They waved goodbye to Soos through the window, the man wishing them a good time out in nature. It was a chilly day, just the type where a sweater and a jacket would suffice for outdoor adventuring as the sun began to set behind the dark cloud cover and the slowly dying light heralded the arrival of the evening. Shaded and shielded from the sun’s rays, the forest floor was blanketed in a thin layer of snow that readily crunched underneath the teenagers’ shoes. The smell of moisture was in the air and it foretold the arrival of snowfall. But whether that was to be in five minutes or five hours, the trio was unsure.

As the hour ticked on and they went further into the woods, Dipper happily chatted away to his companions and Pacifica slowly came around until she was smiling too. Mabel however, remained secretly as glum as she had been that afternoon. Because as it turned out, hiking in the somewhat rugged weather did quite a bit to remind her of her days spent traveling through exotic wildernesses with Grunkle Ford while hunting for new parts for the Quantum Destabilizer or in search of an interdimensional portal. If she were to close her eyes right then and there, she could have convinced herself that she was in the Multiverse again with Ford chattering by her side. But he wasn’t here and that was the issue. She tried telling herself that he was with Grunkle Stan and they were on a much needed adventure together, which was true, but that didn’t make her feel any better. 

“There’s that mansion again.” Dipper noticed, breaking her from her thoughts and pointing atop the nearby hill as his breath formed a puff of fog in front of his face.

“Oh, let’s go check it out. What do you all say?” Pacifica asked with cheeks reddened from the cold from behind her polka-dotted scarf.

“Sounds good to me, love birds.” Mabel shrugged underneath her cloak, stepping off the trail and through the underbrush to the construction site while she cleared a path with her dagger. Despite its cracked surface, It flickered with pink light upon removal from its sheath as if it were saying hello to the young woman.

Pacifica informed her backside, “I always forget that your knife is like, magic or something.”

“Isn’t it sentient?” Dipper inquired beside his girlfriend, rubbing his gloved hands together for warmth.

Mabel answered as she cut through a low hanging branch, “Yeah it is, and it's a big ‘ol sweetheart too. Too bad it's kinda broken right now, I wish we had a way to fix it.”

“There’s gotta be something we can do.” Dipper replied, taking Pacifica’s hand.

“Yeah, maybe.” She hummed.

The trio exited the forest and found themselves in the lavish yard of a three story, exquisite wooden mansion with a sweeping roof and complete with a bubbling two tiered fountain and a flawlessly laid brick path meandering lazily around the edges of the property like a stream. The grass was perfectly cut despite the weather and the flowerbeds were prepped and covered, waiting for the arrival of spring. Eyeing the enormous back deck already furnished with high end, designer furniture, Mabel began to follow the path towards the front of the house and the couple followed. The lights to the house were all off, like whoever owned the building hadn’t moved in yet. 

“This sure is fancy. It almost reminds me of McGucket’s place.” Dipper mused as he pulled his green beanie further down around his ears.

“Yeah, because he’s building a new house for all his robots, I told you.” Mabel sang, plucking a dead, brown bloom from a winter dormant rose bush. She crushed it in her mittens and watched the wind carry the pieces away.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m getting some serious déjà vu here.” Pacifica muttered, a slight frown appearing on her face.

Dipper squeezed her hand a little tighter and smiled sweetly at her as they rounded the corner to the front yard, which was equally as luxurious as the back. Newly planted poplar trees were neatly lined up parallel to the house in the flower beds with more accompanying rose bushes.

“McGucket’s a rose guy right? I always thought he’d be one to like roses.” Mabel thought aloud, trying to keep Pacifica’s mood light.

Pacifica shrugged, “I mean… I guess so. He hasn’t ripped out my parents' roses so who knows.”

The three of them stepped out onto the private cobblestone road leading from the mansion down the hill to a public street to get a better view of the house. Mabel held her fingers out to frame the building and stated, “Yup, that’s picturesque alright.”

“I have to admit, it’s a nice looking place.” Dipper shrugged while he took the sights in. 

A biting wind traveled across the hilltop, shaking the last stubborn leaves from the freshly planted oak trees that lined the stone road and making Pacifica shiver. “I’m getting cold, let’s head home.” She suggested as she began to lead both her and her boyfriend down the forest lined street.

“Okay that sounds like a plan, but are we gonna go back the way we came, or…?” Mabel added as she wrapped her cloak tighter around herself and skipped after the blonde.

“I wanna know where this road goes.” Pacifica clarified, gesturing ahead of her.

“Kay, gotcha Paz.” Mabel chirped, pulling the hood of her cloak back over her head after the wind pulled it off.

“That’s interesting though, I wonder who’s gonna live here?” Dipper mused, looking over his shoulder at the new home as the cold breeze tugged at his curls.

“I dunno, hun.” Pacifica sighed, feeling a sense of dread settle in her gut that she couldn’t quite place her finger on. 

“What if it’s mom and dad?” The brunette girl laughed.

Another gust of wind swept across the road, swirling up the dead leaves that had piled in the gutters and thrusting the first snowflakes of the evening every which way in the air. Dipper smirked despite the icy air current and said, “I think that’s highly unlikely considering their budget but that would be a fun surprise.”

“Hey, a girl can dream ok?” Mabel quipped back, holding out her tongue in an attempt to catch the flakes as they fell.

The couple chuckled as they watched their sweatered loved one try and fail to catch a single snowflake as they made their way down the road that gently curved around as they descended the hillside. The snow began to steadily fall heavier and the wind picked up further just as the streetlights came on, making its way through all the cracks and crevices in their outfits and chilling them where their clothing overlapped. Getting to the bottom of the hill, they discovered that the end of the road was guarded by an intricately crafted, black metal gate that led directly to the town’s main street.

Dipper pointed towards a sign hanging near the sidewalk, just on the other side of the gate. “Oh look, there’s a sign up ahead. Maybe it’ll tell us who’s moving in?”

“Ooh, yay.” Mabel cheered, running around the gate and through the leaf bare hedges that lined the property to get to the sign.

Tightly against his side and shivering, Pacifica whispered in his ear, “You don’t think Mabel cut through hedges back on top of the hill to get us onto the property, do you?”

“She probably did and we just didn’t notice.” Dipper responded as they approached the sign and then he stopped and frowned when he got a decent look at it.

Pacifica wanted to ask what was wrong but she followed his gaze and did the same as him. The sign hanging in front of the property made her heart stop and her brain light up with anxiety and fury. NORTHWEST REALTY it read in loopy, white lettering against a  black background.

“That shithead. I’ll tear him a new one.” Mabel seethed with her arms crossed while she glared at the words.

“Hey, let’s not panic guys. Reasonably, anyone could be moving in here.” Dipper stated, trying to keep things calm.

Pacifica fretted, a chill going down her spine that wasn’t from the weather, “But it doesn’t say sold on it or anything like that. The only person who owns this property is my dad. So he must be moving in here, the damn place was already furnished for crying out loud!” 

Dipper was persistent in his attempt and continued, “Yeah but don’t you think he’s the kind of guy to at least tell you if he was going to be moving back in?” He paused, reflecting on his own words and then backtracked as a protective anger came to him, “Actually, forget everything I just said Paz, I’m with Mabel on this one.” He was also afraid, make no mistake. Preston Northwest was a grown man and a powerful one too. If he really wanted to take Pacifica away or just cause trouble now that he was going to be here, Dipper wasn’t really sure to what extent he and Mabel could fight back. Not to mention, Stan and Ford were now gone for the foreseeable future so they were on their own. But in the back of his mind, a resilient voice cried out that so long as they had each other, maybe everything would be okay. It brought him comfort and he held onto it tightly.

Pacifica wasn’t sure how to feel, a part of her worried about the implications of her father coming back to town and if that meant her days with the Pines were numbered. But another part of her welcomed his arrival with a defiant spirit, daring him to try and show his face in her home. But most of all she was angry, angry because of course he wouldn’t bother to tell her this, just like he hadn’t taken the time to inform her that he had divorced her mother either. With a groan, she wanted to laugh and cry and stomp her feet and kick that dumb sign into the dirt all at the same time. A dignified tear of fury leaked past her face as she shivered, feeling her face go numb and not from the cold.

Dipper wrapped her in a hug and rubbed her back and she mumbled with fright, “I don’t want to lose you guys.”

“Don’t worry, we’re not going anywhere.” He comforted her with an anxious tone and kissed her on the forehead.

“Oh, I could just,” she huffed in frustration, “murder my father right now.” Pacifica whispered angrily, hugging her boyfriend back.

Mabel felt her worry for Pacifica and Dipper wash over her upon seeing the fear on their faces and she wished Grunkle Ford was there for her now to go to for advice. She thought back to her first weeks in the Multiverse and how much of her energy had been spent aching for her family. Her and Dipper’s thirteenth birthday in particular came to mind since she vividly remembered crying into Ford’s side in a small cave. But now there was no one to shed tears to and no one to go to for support because she realized that she was that person now. She needed to be the metaphorical Grunkle Ford to Dipper and Pacifica and protect and support them during this time. Ford’s words came to the front of her mind, Perhaps all the Oracle meant by her words was that you would be a comfort to Dipper and Pacifica while Stan and I are away. But she wasn’t so sure of that anymore and she feared she would have to step up and do more. Because she was the one who was battle hardened with scars to prove it and she was the one who the Oracle had said had the power to keep her family together against some threat that was approaching. So Mabel knew that she would be strong for Dipper and Pacifica.

The ringtone of Dipper’s phone pulled her from her thoughts and Dipper picked up the call. “Oh hey Soos, what’s up?” His eyes went wide in alarm and a fearful expression came to his face as he listened to what the man was saying on the other end. The line went dead soon after and he stared panickedly ahead for only a second before he broke out in a run in the direction of the Mystery Shack and explained over his shoulder to the girls, “We gotta get back, Soos said there’s a creature at the house and he sounded really scared.” 

“Really, what kind of creature?” Pacifica asked as she and Mabel went after him with her mouth in a frown of concern.

“I’m not sure, I guess we’ll find out.” Dipper said quickly, trying not to let his anxiety get the best of him.

It was dark out by the time the three teenagers came jogging in view of the Mystery Shack, panting from their long run up the dirt road that was hindered by the wind and heavy snowfall going the opposite direction as them. A solid inch of wet flakes had fallen already, stuck to their boots and melted in their hair as they raced past Soos’s truck for the porch. The door was ajar and hanging loosely from its hinges, scuff marks scratched into the door and doorframe that made their stomachs drop. Mabel turned back to see if the anomaly had left any tracks but she silently cursed when she saw the snowfall had blanketed over any signs of life besides them. It was eerily quiet in the dark house, and the temperature was warmer than that of the outside, but not by a whole lot. The creaking of the floorboards as they stepped into the foyer echoed around them and Mabel heard Pacifica gulp.

“Soos?” Dipper called out apprehensively. 

There was no reply.

“Soos?” Pacifica cried with a hint of hysteria in her voice.

“Shh.” Mabel shushed them, grabbing her silver handbell as she peered into the living room.

A sudden crash came from upstairs and all three of their heads snapped towards the source of the noise simultaneously. Pacifica whispered with a cross of uneasiness and irritation, “It sounded like it’s in our room, Mabel.”

“You two get behind me, I’m going up first.” Mabel mumbled, stepping in front of them as she eyed the top of the stairs suspiciously.

“No way sis, we go up together.” Dipper said quietly, grabbing her by the elbow as she passed by him.

His sister smiled sympathetically at him and said in a hushed voice, “No offense bro-bro, but I think I’m a little more experienced in the monster fighting department. Plus, I have magic. So you can be Pacifica’s meat shield.” Without another word, she shrugged Dipper’s hand off of her and silently began to make her way up the steps with Dipper and Pacifica a few paces behind.

“Hey, I can hold my own.” Pacifica whispered as she shot a glare at the cloak-wearing girl’s backside.

Dipper exhaled a silent sigh and breathed, “I know that but just wanna help, Mabel.”

Mabel frowned slightly at Dipper’s words as she paused at the top of the stairs and looked back at her brother and friend, giving them a reassuring grin. “Dipper, you can help by letting the master do her work.” The teen turned back to her slightly open bedroom door, eyeing the red stained glass triangular patterned window as she stepped across the space, and felt a hair raising chill go down her spine as the corners of the room seemed to darken. 

He’s watching us. Mabel thought solemnly.

Ignoring the icy sensation that afflicted her vertebrae and made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, her hand slowly closed over the doorknob to the bedroom with Dipper and Pacifica close behind. So close to the door now, she could hear something moving around inside and it sounded like it was making a mess. She took in a deep breath, steeling her nerves, and tore the door open to face whatever was on the other side. 

Standing in the middle of the room amongst Pacifica’s belongings, which had been strewn every which way, was a girthy, naked spider-like creature the size of a horse of leathery skin splashed with tones of brown, blue, hazel, and green. In its shiny black, forearm length fangs it chewed on one of Pacifica’s dresses, drooling as at least a dozen or more foggy eyes sat bulging out of its head as if it didn’t have enough room to accommodate them all. Each of its sprawling, ten legs were fleshy and tipped with a long spiked onyx claw that appeared similar to the keratinous nail of a finger and were dotted with thick hairlike spines that grew out of bulging pores that somewhat reminded Mabel of eyelashes. Around the entirety of its abdomen were eyes of all sorts and colors, becoming more numerous the further back she looked, with the most concentrated predominantly around its black spiked spinnerets. All of them blinked and looked around dully on their own accord as if they were unaware of what was going on around them as simple observers chained to another more frightening being. To top it all off, half a dozen decaying and considerably ancient looking arrows were stuck half buried in the beast’s backside, proving it battle tested.

The creature paused its desecration of the dress, dropping the soggy article of clothing when it heard the door open, and took a curious step over the blonde’s toppled over dresser and closer to Mabel, only to be hit with a magical gust of wind that knocked it onto its backside. It hit the ground heavily, shaking the upper floor with its weight and it angrily screeched something grating and ear bleeding as its spindly legs flailed all around erratically to get itself upright, tearing Pacifica’s sheets from her bed in the process.

“What the hell is that thing?!” Pacifica screamed, covering her mouth in revulsion. 

“It-it’s not in any of the journals!” Dipper cried, his face twisted in disgust.

The abomination found its footing quickly and pulled itself upright as it gave a high pitch squeal, giving Mabel barely enough time to grimace with repugnance as she stepped inside her room and her eyes met the foul beast’s. Against her own will, she felt herself stiffen up like she was made of stone when her eyes locked with the monster’s glassy ones. The spider crawled closer to her, its claws tapping one after the other against the wooden floor as her muscles refused to move, stuck under the gaze of the crime against nature. Her heart beat against her chest like a drum but no matter how much blood and oxygen it supplied her limbs, they refused to move. With a furious howl, the spider lunged for her with its fangs aimed directly for her eyes but hit nothing but a wall of rosy light a scant inch from her face. The magical jingle bell Ford had insisted she kept with her rang, using its charge to save her life.

With a low, wet growl of repulsion, the monster backed away, running into her shelf and knocking a number of craft boxes onto the floor. A bin full of painting supplies hit it in the face as it fell and the spider cried out in anger, stabbing at the box furiously with its pointed claws and splattering vibrant colors everywhere up the walls and across the floor like a gruesome, rainbow crimescene. This proved to be just the distraction that was needed to free Mabel from the freezing spell because in the next second, two pairs of hands grabbed her and were half dragging and half carrying her out of the room. She collapsed into her companions’ arms like a puppet whose strings had been cut without notice as she was carried across the attic room, still feeling Cipher’s unwavering gaze upon her all the while from the window.

“What the hell, Dipper? What the hell? Oh I don’t like that thing at all. It can die in a fire for all I care.” Pacifica huffed, helping him carry Mabel down the stairs.

“I never want to look at it again.” Dipper agreed frantically.

“Guys guys, it’s fine, I got it.” Mabel cried, finding her strength in the foyer and glaring with her jaw squared up the steps.

The splintering of wood came from the upper floor, which was immediately followed by the rumbling of gigantic spider footsteps and the beast itself appeared at the top of the steps. Mabel quickly averted her eyes and took their hands, shouting, “Into the kitchen! And don’t let it look at you, it’ll freeze you!”

Dipper followed the other two into the kitchen as the growling got closer to them and exclaimed, “Yeah, we got that Mabel. Are you okay?”

The girl in question responded as she struggled to unsheath her knife, “I’m fine guys, but we gotta figure out what this thing wants and if we need to lead it away or kill it.” 

“I vote for the latter.” Dipper cringed, grabbing the edges of the table and helping Pacifica to tip it onto its side. The plate with the cold and wilted remains of Dipper’s poppy flower muffin, some stray eating utensils, and an empty plastic cup went crashing onto the floor as they pushed the piece of furniture against the doorway, spilling flower petals and muffin crumbs across the checkered tile.

As they proceeded to move the chairs against the table, Pacifica told Mabel, “Mabel, when a woman says she’s fine, she’s actually not fine.”

Mabel’s gaze was solemn when she opened her mouth to reply to the blonde but whatever she was going to say died when the oversized arachnid plowed through their improvised defenses and knocked Pacifica and the furniture into the corner while it pinned Dipper to the floor with a howl. He exclaimed in pain as his head and back hit the ground, making him dizzy and knocking the wind from his lungs. He tried to shield his squeezed shut eyes with his hands but his arms were fastened in place under the weight of the abomination’s legs and no matter how hard he fought, he couldn’t get free. Hot drool dripped from the monster’s mouth and hit his face and he felt its moist breath on his neck that smelled richly of rot, making him fight the urge to gag.

A protective fury shot through Mabel and she charged the demon with her knife raised, keeping her head down and her eyes to the floor. “Hang on Dipper, I’m comi-” she was cut off when her eyes flicked to the beast at the very last second to ensure she would strike straight for the abomination’s head to end this but her gaze brushed over its glassy eyes and made the briefest of contact. Mabel felt her throat tighten, causing her voice to die as her joints cemented in place, stuck in mid swing like a statue with her dagger frozen only a foot over the spider’s head.

Dammit no, not again Mabel! Get it together, girl! She thought scornfully.

With everyone in the room more or less subdued, the anomaly raised its fangs over Dipper’s face and was about to plunge its teeth into his eye sockets when its plans were ruined by Pacifica hitting it right in the head with a wooden chair. It hissed angrily at her and tried to get her away by jabbing at her with two of its hairy legs but its attack was deflected when the teen used the chair like a shield, squinting her eyes and doing her best to avoid it’s eyes the whole time. This movement on the monster’s part freed up one of Dipper’s arms just enough for him to get his fingers ahold of a fallen fork and stab his enemy in one of its countless eyes on its girthy abdomen. The fork prongs hit the organ with a squelching noise and the eye deflated as it squirted an acidic yellow-green liquid that burned his skin, causing the monster to wail out in pain and recoil away from the humans and back into the parlor. With one last snarl that sent spittles of saliva flying onto the wallpaper and floorboards, the arachnid turned and crawled up the stairs once more. 

As Dipper wiped the drool and eye juices from his face and scrambled to his feet, Pacifica ran to Mabel and shook her free from the spell. She fell into Pacifica like her limbs were made of cooked spaghetti and her petite friend only managed to just barely hold onto her as all her dead weight hit the blonde. In the next few seconds, Dipper had made it to her side right as her strength returned to her and she took a step back with shaky legs. 

Mabel breathed a sigh of relief and took off at a fast jog after the beast before either of the other two could protest, saying to herself,  “Fool me once, shame on you. But fool me twice and my brother almost gets eaten by a giant spider.”

At the top of the steps, the brunette had to admit she wasn’t expecting to see what she currently laid her eyes on. The noise of claws against the porcelain of the toilet and sink got her to look in the direction of the upstairs bathroom and she did a double take when she discovered the monster currently in the middle of crawling into the mirror as if it were a portal to another dimension. Despite looking like an obese rottweiler trying to fit through a cat door, it somehow managed to squeeze its body and spindly limbs through the mirror and disappear, the face of the reflective surface rippling like the disturbed surface of a quiet body of water before going still. Two sets of running footsteps came up the stairs and Dipper and Pacifica arrived just in time to see the girl staring slack jawed at seemingly nothing. Needless to say, they were quite puzzled, as well as uneasy because the monster appeared to have vanished as soon as it left their sight.

“Oookay, well that’s new.” Mabel muttered, tapping the flat edge of her knife against her open palm.

“Wh-what, what is? Are you going to share with the rest of us?” Dipper asked worriedly.

Pacifica looked around Mabel and peered into the bathroom at the scratched wallpaper and chipped sink, searching them for answers. “Mabel, Where’d that thing go?” She inquired apprehensively. 

Mabel stared at the two of them with a dumbfounded yet weary look and deadpanned, “It crawled through the mirror.” 

The couple shared a hesitant look with one another and Pacifica said sarcastically, “Oh, well that’s just great,” as Dipper nervously chuckled.

Upon seeing her companions’ worry, the sweater wearing teen quickly course corrected her mood and held out her hands and waved them in front of her, reassuring them, “But don’t worry, I can figure it out. I was just about to go smash the mirror.”

“Are we even sure that’s the best thing to do?” Dipper countered, taking a few steps into the doorway of the bathroom, shielding his eyes from view of the mirror with one hand and making the conscious effort to stare at the floorboards. 

“Dipper, don’t go in there.” Pacifica fretted, following after him and grabbing him by the arm. “Let’s at least think about this for a minute before one of us gets killed or worse.”

“What do you mean ‘or worse’?” Mabel inquired, also coming to the doorway as Dipper took his time looking around the small room.

The blonde studied her expression with an anxious one of her own and responded, “Didn’t you see what that thing was trying to do? Each time it attacked one of you guys, it went straight for your eyes. I think I’d rather be dead than have my eyes bitten out by some- some-” She gestured vaguely, unable to come up with a suitable name for the hideous abomination they were currently dealing with.

“Eye Stealer.” Mabel finished for her.

Pacifica silently stared up at her with her same nervous look but her brows came together slightly and her nose wrinkled in confusion. So Mabel clarified, “Y’know, cuz it’s trying to get our eyes and it's probably covered in other peoples’ eyes? That would make it the Eye Stealer.” Then she added, speaking more to herself than the other girl, “Or an Eye Stealer. Geez, I sure hope there’s not more than one of these things.”

“Aaaaah!” Dipper screamed, falling backwards into the tub and turning the girls’ attention from their conversation to him.

Pacifica burst past Mabel and was at her boyfriend’s side instantly while Mabel also ran inside the room, looking all around for the source of danger while squinting her eyes, ever weary of the Eye Stealer’s freezing ability. Dipper stood and his frightened gaze went to the mirror and whatever he saw on the other side made him sigh deeply and place a hand on his chest in relief.

“It’s ok everybody, I just coulda sworn I saw that thing in the mirror.” He explained.

The girls’ peered at the mirror, only finding their own reflections on the other side. This did little to ease their anxieties however, because the long claw marks along the walls and floor, as well as the cracked porcelain sink, told them that the monster was still out there.

“Maybe we should check all the mirrors then.” Pacifica suggested.

“And look for Soos.” Mabel added urgently as she covered the mirror with her cloak. A fresh bout of unease for the man rose in her gut, making her sick. She ignored it; she had to if she was going to get everybody out of this situation alive. 

Dipper straightened his beanie on his head and agreed, “Those seem like logical ideas. I’ll call Soos again.”

As they all headed down the steps and back into the chilly foyer, which had now received a dusting of snow due to the front door still being wide open to the storm outside, Dipper made a call that went straight to voicemail. 

“Oh no…” Dipper worried, looking down frightenedly at his phone.

“Crap.” Pacifica 

“Double crap.” Mabel agreed, attempting to close the door that didn’t fit properly against the frame. Instead, it fell over and through the frame and crashed to the porch, startling the couple.

“Oh, where could he be?” Pacifica squeaked with a shiver and skin pale from fright, looking around the ice covered room as if the man was hiding around the corner. “I sure hope nothing terrible has happened to him.”

“Well, Soos’s truck was outside and I didn’t see any tracks when we got here so he’s gotta be here somewhere.” Mabel reasoned.

Dipper chimed in, “At least he hasn’t left since it started snowing.”

“Soos!” Pacifica shouted, cupping her hands to her mouth.

When they heard nothing but her echoing cry bouncing off the walls, Mabel commanded, “Alright, let’s sweep the house and check all the rooms and bathroom mirrors. If you guys stick with me you can stay safe and we can figure this out.” She took her handbell out of her pocket and wielded it in one hand while she held her dagger in the other and stated, “Ok mystery gang, let’s roll out,” and took her first steps out of the snow laden ground and into the carpeted living room.

Something alarming and sorrowful went off in Dipper’s brain seeing his sister, who was usually so carefree even up to occasionally dangerous levels, be serious and take charge in their situation. Because the Mabel he thought he knew and had previously known would most certainly be at his side, nervously holding his hand, hovering closely nearby him, or something along those lines. But Pacifica was doing that instead while his sister led them through the shack like an army officer commanding her team all without breaking a sweat. It was a side to Mabel he had never seen before and it upset him because he knew that she could have only learned to act this way after going through the tribulations in the Multiverse she had told him about. An urge to protect his sister came to him in his heart and he knew he had to do something about it.

“Mabel, why don’t I check the next mirror for you?” He suggested as they cautiously traveled down one of the Mystery Shack’s many maze-like hallways with peeling purple wallpaper, partially on the lookout for Soos and partially searching for the abomination that had attacked them minutes earlier. None of them would dare speak the horrid thoughts of the potential fate of Soos floating around in their minds, it was obvious enough what they were thinking with the haunted expressions on their faces. At least, it was for Dipper and Pacifica.

His sister barely looked over her shoulder at him as she trekked ahead, grabbing the doorknob of the hall bath. She shrugged and said simply, “Thanks bro-bro, but I got it. You and Pacifica can keep clinging to each other back there.”

He was about to protest against her but his girlfriend beat him to it. “What?” Pacifica shot, loosening her grip around Dipper’s middle, “I’m not clinging.” 

Mabel gave her a blank stare, clearly unconvinced, before turning the doorknob and flicking on the light switch to the bathroom, looking all around on the floor for spider feet and steadily climbing her gaze upwards to avoid any statue inducing eyes.

With a hand on her hip the blonde continued sarcastically, “Oh, I’m so sorry I don’t like the giant eyeball covered spider that’s probably hiding somewhere in this house.”

Peering into the restroom from the hallway, the couple saw Mabel gasp and then shield her eyes from the mirror but when she realized she had remained unfrozen, she slowly lowered her hands as she stared into it. “Guys… I found our Eye Stealer. And I’m looking right at it.”

“What?” Dipper and Pacifica exclaimed simultaneously, racing to either side of Mabel to get a good view of the mirror to see what she saw.

Peering into the mirror felt like taking a peek into another world more than looking at their own reflections because they weren’t there at all. Instead of seeing the room reflected back at them, a dark expanse made of nothing but black greeted them around the edges, with the arachnid Eye Stealer taking up most of the space, staring at them like it was looking through a window. With an unreadable expression, it stilly stood there just breathing, its abdomen gently expanding and contracting with each breath it took.

Dipper broke eye contact with the creature and turned to Mabel to say, “It’s like it’s just waiting for something to happen.”

Mabel glanced back at him to respond, “Yeah, super creepy.”

The moment she did so, Pacifica blinked, breaking any remaining eye contact with the beast for but a split second. That was all the time the Eye Stealer needed, for when Pacifica’s eyelids shut, it tore through the barrier between its mirror world and the real one like it was emerging from a pool of water and six of its hairy, spear-like legs shot into the bathroom, clawing at the walls, ceiling, and floor as it lunged for Pacifica and began to pull itself through the frame. The blonde screamed and backed away as Mabel growled forward, plunging her dagger into one of the abomination’s eyes behind its head. It popped like a crunchy grape and streamed its goopy acidic insides all over the top of Mabel’s hand, burning her. Only halfway through the mirror, the Eye Stealer roared and thrashed its fangs as it lost its footing from the painful wound, knocking Mabel off her feet. Her head and shoulder hit the wall as she fell, earning her a burst of fresh, sharp pain in those areas. But before she could even get to her feet, Dipper and Pacifica had grabbed her by the boots and yanked her out of the bathroom and away from the many flailing, spear tip like claws.

“Thanks guys.” She hissed in pain as she got to her feet, trying to ignore the way the back of her hand stung, her shoulder ached, and her headache started to turn to a throb at her temple.

“Don’t mention it.” Pacifica answered, her expression frightened.

“We gotta push it back inside.” Dipper exclaimed, gesturing frantically at the monster. He grabbed the nearby wobbly end table, taking care to gently place the lamp that rested atop it on the ground first, and held it in his hands like a baseball bat, ready to go to battle. But Mabel beat him to it, stepping in front of him and blocking his view from the Eye Stealer. 

“Good idea Dip-dop.” Mabel sang, ringing her silver handbell. As she drew a few runes in the air and spoke in a language unknown, a strong wind swept past her companions, tugging at the torn wallpaper as it came and gathered around Mabel’s hands. With a battlecry, she thrust her open palms forward towards the bathroom, where the Eye Stealer had barely managed to pull itself through the mirror. The gust of wind hit it like a sledgehammer and it crashed against the bathroom sink, shattering it and bursting a pipe in the process. 

Mabel cursed, she had aimed too low. The beast also voiced its own anger by screeching violently and shaking shards of porcelain from its backside as it stood, all while an immense puddle formed on the floor and began to spill into the hallway. The brunette girl sharply inhaled and began another spell as Dipper and Pacifica watched on uselessly. Similarly to before, a powerful rushing of water came to her fingertips from the floor and she thrust her hands upwards in an arc, throwing the giant arachnid against the mirror with a wave and causing it to fall from its hook and shatter on the ground.

“Aw, farts!” Mabel complained, blocking her view of the eyes on the monster’s head with her stone dagger. Her own reflection in the blade caught her eye as she prepared another spell and the Eye Stealer roared, sporting an assortment of new gashes on its abdomen where it smashed into the mirror.

“Dipper, what do we do?” Pacifica worried, grabbing him by the shoulder. “We can’t just stand here.”

“Uh, um…” Dipper dictated, watching his sister fight the gargantuan crime against nature. 

Being careful not to get caught in its gaze, he looked to the monster, taking in all the information he could as clues. With a puddle of water spilling into the hallway now, the entire floor was slippery with a reflective layer, one which the Eye Stealer was being careful to not look at, going much slower to close the distance between it and Mabel than it had before. This sparked something in Dipper’s head and he realized the monster seemed to be stuck in a battle for eye contact with Mabel as she used her reflective dagger to shield her eyes from the threat, but the Eye Stealer was precise in its movements to not look back at the dagger as it calculatedly inched forwards, deep in concentration. 

“It’s like… It's avoiding its own reflection.” He thought aloud only loud enough for Pacifica to hear as tap water flowed past his boots. “Of course, that’s it. Mabel, don’t use any more Water Spells.” He instructed her.

“Well why not?” Mabel asked, still in an intense standoff with the beast, each taking miniscule, carefully calculated moves either towards or away from one another. One wrong move on either of their parts could result in serious injury.

The Eye Stealer made a chittering noise that could have been a laugh and dictated in a grating growl, “Because they’ve figured me out you damned paladin.” 

All three of the human’s jaws dropped in disbelief as the sentence left the thing’s mouth and before any of them could exclaim, ‘it can talk’, the arachnid took the opportunity of confusion to abruptly turn on its heel and charge Dipper with its fangs outstretched, splashing up water as it ran with all ten of its limbs. Pacifica grabbed her boyfriend’s hand and turned them both around to run for their lives when there was a loud noise directly behind them, like that of a tree splintering as it crashed to the forest floor. The teen boy dared to look back and saw Mabel with her palm pressed against one of the pine floorboards, magically growing an entire pine tree from the timber that lifted the Eye Stealer from the ground and pinned it against the ceiling. 

“Ha, I just saved your lives.” Mabel grinned as a mass of kicking legs and blinking eyes screamed just above her.

Dipper finally dropped the end table, letting out a sigh of relief and saying, “Thank you, Mabel.”

“Wait guys, I have an idea!” Pacifica exclaimed, grabbing them both by the shoulders and pulling them into a close huddle so their enemy would be unable to hear of her plan. After twenty seconds of some back and forth whispering, she concluded, “...So try to lure it out of the house, ok?” while looking the twins seriously in the eyes.

Her boyfriend nodded solemnly, indicating he understood the mission as the monster hissed and spat, breaking branches and raining down pine needles. 

“Sweet,” Mabel chirped, putting her hand down in the middle of them, “now put your hands in the middle, I’ll cheer us off.” The other two did so, although hesitantly, placing their hands on top of Mabel’s.

Dipper questioned, glancing at the monster making its way out of the tree, “Mabel, are you sure we have time for th-”

His sister cut him off and she cried, “One, two, three, go team Mystery Trio!” and enthusiastically raised her hand into the air, doing a hop to go with it. 

The couple also raised their hands in the air, just at a less enthusiastic level. Pacifica raced off for the gift shop as Dipper put his gloves back on and stomped through the water to pick up the largest shard of mirror he could find in the bathroom. After he picked up a chunk that was more or less the size of a small plate, the Eye Stealer finally tore itself free from the branches of the tree and came crashing upside down onto the floor, shaking the hallway. It scrambled to its feet only to be hit with a hurricane strength gust of wind that shoved it several feet down the hall and in the direction of the front door. 

“Okay Mabel, together.” Dipper stated, squaring his stance and he raised his shard of glass while trying to not look terrified. 

His sister only nodded and raised her dagger in front of her, shielding her eyes from the Eye Stealer’s view. At the same time, the two twins took a few steps forward, forcing the demon back as it avoided its own reflection in the water and their polished items. It spat angrily and darted forward, only to be hit with a burst of air under Mabel’s command and be knocked back. They gave it no time to recover and rushed forward, giving the arachnid no choice but to scuttle away from them if it didn’t want to be hit with its own gaze, unable to do anything but spit angrily and flex its mouthparts threateningly.

“So far so good.” Mabel smirked, taking another step forward in time with Dipper.

“Don’t jinx us.” Dipper hissed, his eyes nearly flicking to the Eye Stealer’s in the reflected water. “And be careful not to get frozen from its reflection.”

“I already know that bro-bro. And you can only get jinxed if you say you don’t want to get jinxed, so there, you’ve jinxed us.” She retorted as they backed away their foe further down the hall.

As they passed by the scratched up door to Stan’s old room, which was now inhabited by Soos for the time being, a muffled voice came. “Hello, is someone out there? There’s a giant spider in the shack dawg, you should be careful, whoever you are dood.”

“Soos!” The twins cried simultaneously, the desire to abandon their task and come to the door to check in on their friend filling their bodies. But they would have to wait to celebrate since they were currently backing a gigantic spider monster out of the house.

“Mabel? Dipper? I kinda accidentally locked myself in here or I’d come give you a big hug. Plus there’s water coming from under the door so I may drown before I get to do that. Are you doods alright?” He asked, his shadow blocking the light that came from under the door.

“Hang on a minute Soos, we’re kinda in the middle of something.” Dipper yelled towards the door, taking another step towards the Eye Stealer in time with Mabel and forcing the beast another foot back.

“We’ll come get you when we can.” Mabel added, kicking out the reflected image of the Eye Stealer on the watery floor as the beast backed around a corner. 

“Well ok doos, it’s not like I’m going anywhere, heh.” Soos laughed.

Step by step, they inched the monster out of the house, Mabel deflecting its attacks with a well placed Wind Spell and pushing it back each time it lunged as Dipper continuously held up his pane of glass, keeping the monster’s gaze away from them lest it wanted to risk freezing itself. They made it through the front door and onto the steps of the porch, like Pacifica had instructed, as the snowy storm rained down large, wet flakes en masse. A chilled breeze danced through the property, freezing the twins’ soaked shoes and biting at Mabel’s gloveless hands. The weather hindered the visibility of all three at play, as well as removed the hazard the flooded floor brought as snow began to stick to Mabel’s dagger and Dipper’s mirror, which they both realized only a little too late. 

The twins shared a worried look with one another as Mabel muttered, “Uh oh,” a swarm of butterflies coming to life in her stomach.

The Eye Stealer laughed again, “Oh you thought you could outsmart me? Well now that-” It never got to finish its sentence since a sledgehammer was dropped on its head from the figure that had been hiding atop the porch’s overhang, splattering gray matter in every which way as its brain exploded like a watermelon that had been dropped from several stories. Its legs immediately crumpled underneath it and curled inwards on themselves, never to move again.

“Ha! Take that you creepy freezing monster! All those eyes and you didn’t even see me coming.” Pacifica cheered from the rooftop, pointing a finger down at the remains of the abomination. 

“Paz, that was incredible, I could kiss you.” Dipper complemented, grinning from ear to ear despite his lower half being splattered with brain juice while he ignored Mabel’s delighted squealing.

“Oh it was nothin’ hon.” Pacifica responded with a flip of her hair. She gazed lovingly at him but then her expression soured once she took in his whole look, wincing, “You do realize you’re covered in brains, right?”

Dipper looked down at his water soaked boots and neuron covered pants and shook little bits of spider monster from them. “Um, yeah well we’ll deal with that in a minute. I’m going to go shut off the water in the bathroom.” He stepped up the porch and back into the flooded house just as his soaked socks started to numb his feet.

“Oh, oh, Paz, guess what? We found Soos and he’s fine.” Mabel chirped, waving her hands in the air wildly, trying to get the attention of the girl that was already looking at her.

The relief on Pacifica’s face was plain as day and a warm smile dawned on her. “That’s great news, Mabel. But let’s catch up inside, it’s cold up here and my feet are like totally wet and frozen.” She complained and turned to make her way back to the upstairs attic window which she had climbed out of.

As flakes fell in thick waves, nestling in her hair and sweater, the brunette girl curiously turned her attention to the corpse of the fiend and poked at it with the tip of her dagger. Just as she had expected, nothing happened, probably because it was missing its head but you could never be too sure in Gravity Falls. Despite the rest of it being very much dead, the eyes dotted around on the thing still moved around and blinked of their own accord, although some were starting to close. Mabel couldn’t help but wonder as she gripped one of the few arrows sticking out of its backside, were these other peoples’ eyes or just part of the beast? She hoped it was the latter since the former made her feel the need to vomit. The arrow was ripped free with a squelching noise, covered in red goop and made from wood and flint. It looked positively ancient and from this world, which only raised more questions in Mabel’s mind. She wiped the projectile clean in the snow and tucked it in her pants as she made a mental note to ask Dipper if any of the anomalies around here used bows and arrows and went back inside.

She sloshed through the ankle deep water that was steadily making its way out the front of the house and found her friends at Stan’s door, talking through the keyhole. Soos was saying, “Yeah and then my phone died so I couldn’t call you doods back. Funny thing is, I left my charger in the truck, heh heh. I’m sure it totally made you think I had like, died or something.”

“Yeah, you scared us good Soos.” Mabel butt in, scooting in between Dipper and Pacifica at the keyhole.

Dipper gave his sister a displeased look when his body was shoved out of the way but Pacifica didn’t seem to mind, only inquiring of the man, “So if your chair is jammed under the doorknob, then how’d you get it there in the first place?”

“With all the strength and determination of a desperate man being chased by a gigantic spider.” Soos said sagely.

Dipper brought his hand to his face to scratch his chin in thought but hissed in pain when his fingers brushed the spot on his jaw where the Eye Stealer’s acid had hit him. He felt the feverish beginnings of blisters forming and settled to cross his arms instead. “Well, we could always get Soos out from the window.”

“Oh, Dipper! Your face.” Pacifica cried, rushing up to him and scrutinizing the splash mark shaped injury on his face as she grabbed his cheeks.

Mabel turned away from talking to Soos through the keyhole when she heard the blonde’s distress and a deep frown came to her when she saw the painful and pinched red splotchy marks on her brother’s face, extinguishing her relieved mood in an instant. With a voice that was fragile like glass, she whispered, “Oh no Dipper, I’m so sorry. I should’ve been there.”

Dipper pulled away with a wince when his girlfriend gingerly touched one patch of blisters and told his sister, “It’s okay Mabel, you tried to save me.” When he saw his words did little to cheer her up, he pointed out the blistering on her own hand and said, “Hey, but at least now we get to be blister buddies.”

A reluctant, small smile formed on her face and she asked, “And wear matching band-aids?”

The teen boy considered his next words carefully since what he said next could entail giving Mabel permission to style him in some fashion but he eventually cast aside that danger and comforted, “Yeah, and we can wear matching band-aids.”

“Thanks bro.” She smiled, hiding her sadness behind it. It made her heart twinge with guilt looking at the injured spots on his face. If she hadn’t been so easily defeated in the kitchen, her brother may have gotten away from this whole adventure pain free. 

She was startled from her thoughts when the doorknob fell to the soaked ground and Soos swung the door open, holding a screwdriver in one hand. “Bros you’ll never guess what I just found under the bed.” He chuckled.

The twins’ eyes lit up like fireworks and they both pulled him into a sincere hug as Pacifica grinned, watching the man embrace them back. When they all finally parted, Mabel was sniffling and blinking back tears as Dipper sighed, “Man, I’m so glad you’re ok Soos.”

“Me too bros.” He nodded as he shared a warm smile with them. Then he got his first good look at his surroundings and whistled low and long at the wet floorboards and ripped wallpaper, saying with his head hung, “Aw, I’m sorry doods, I feel like a total letdown. I told Stan I would protect you guys but you came to my rescue instead.” 

Mabel placed her hand in his own and patted his back reassuringly. “It’s okay Soos, I’ve handled way worse than well- whatever the hell that thing was. I don’t need protection.”

The man gave a half-hearted chuckle. “I guess that’s true. With those powers of yours, you’re like a magic ninja.” He emphasized his point by making a fighting pose and punching at the air.

“Speaking of which,” Dipper started as he tried and failed to hide his enthusiasm from his sister, “you still owe me magic lessons. I can only imagine how much more help I could’ve been if I actually knew some spells.”

Mabel laughed, “Good thinking bro-bro,” but then she yawned, “but I’m tired. Maybe we should clean up and I’ll show you tomorrow.” 

“That’s a good idea, but I have something you guys probably want to see first.” Pacifica said as she gestured with her thumb over her shoulder.

“Oh, is it a surprise cake you’ve been secretly making behind our backs?” Mabel guessed, wiping her nose on her cloak.

“That doesn’t even make any sense.” Dipper puzzled with an amused smile.

Soos shrugged and he chimed in, “Nothing has made any sense today dawg. Like, today it started snowing even though it was sunny and then all of the sudden there’s a spider monster? Like why was it even here? What was its goal?”

“You’re probably going to get an answer to those last questions, Soos.” Pacifica stated, stopping in the doorway to the gift shop and gesturing at the vending machine, which looked like it had been chewed up and spat back out. The glass was shattered with long, deep claw marks going all up and down the sides and the secret door was open and bent out of place. Unopened snacks littered the ground around it, completely untouched. “I had to get the sledgehammer from the basement and that’s when I found it like that. But that’s not all.” She explained with a hint of fear in her voice as she walked through the door and led them down the stairs.

More scratch marks scuffed up the walls and stairs leading to the metal door of the elevator, which was the most heavily damaged of all. Dipper gasped and an anxious expression came to him as Mabel squared her jaw and swallowed nervously and both twins brushed their fingertips to the doors, feeling the scarred surface against their skin. 

“I-I don’t think it got past here. The elevator was spotless, nothing seemed out of place in the basement, and the portal looked untouched.” Pacifica recalled, gingerly taking a seat on the bottom step next to Soos.

“Huh, the eye scanner is completely fine.” Dipper observed with a tilt of his head.

“Yeah, it almost looks like it was avoiding damaging it. Weird right?” Pacifica agreed, gesturing to the scanner Ford had reinstalled beside the elevator button panel.

“But why would it be trying to get down here?” Soos questioned while he scratched his head because Stan’s fez was surprisingly itchy.

“Don’t forget it was also trashing your stuff, Paz. It left mine alone.” Mabel mused as she tapped her foot, trying to put all the pieces of the story together.

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” The blonde groaned, putting her head in her hands.

Dipper stopped scrutinizing the claw marks on the door and brought his fingertips together in thought and furrowed his brow, also working through the evidence. “Well, we know that this ‘Eye Stealer’ monster broke into the shack, made Soos barricade himself in his room, tried to get into the basement, and then made a mess of Paz’s things before we got home.”

“Dipper, you don’t think it was trying to get our eyes to use on the scanner, do you?” Mabel asked with her expression pinched in thought.

Her twin gasped at his sister’s reasoning, his eyes wide with revelation. “Yeah, like it couldn’t get past the door so it went after us for our eyes instead. That would make sense. But how would it know to do that? Plus, it would only try to get the portal on if- if-” He stammered.

“Bill.” Mabel spat with enough venom to kill a full grown man. 

All three looked at her with varying expressions of shock and fear. Soos fretted, “Oh no… I don’t get it.”

“I do.” Pacifica hissed, standing with a fire burning inside of her despite looking pale enough to be a ghost. “I bet you he sent that eldritch looking bug to get the portal on and ruin my stuff for good measure as revenge.” She folded her arms and stuck her nose up defiantly for extra effect.

Dipper nodded sagely in agreement, giving the elevator one last glance as he took his girlfriend’s hand and started up the stairs. “Yeah that tracks. If he’s going to start sending monsters after us, we’ll be ready.” His expression was stony and dark, reminding Mabel much of the way Grunkle Ford looked when he said something he thought was dramatic. It was interesting how much her brother reminded her of Ford sometimes.

Mabel followed the rest of the gang up the stairs and back into the giftshop, where Soos began to inspect the vending machine’s damage. The three teens each grabbed a snack off the floor and the twins took their seats atop the checkout counter as they watched the handyman work. Pacifica opted to stand a safe distance away from them since their clothing was still infected with brain juices as far as she was concerned.

The sweater-wearing girl’s thoughts drifted, wondering just what she was supposed to do now that they had convincing evidence that they were back at war with Bill Cipher. It proved her suspicions back at the base of the hill correct for one thing, something big was now after them and she needed to be prepared. Because he was watching them, she had felt it. Bill was far from a one and done kind of guy and today was just a warning shot, the plan A before plans B to Z, and it made her stomach flip with equal parts anticipatory defiance and fear. She wasn’t sure her performance today was going to be good enough for everything to come so if she was going to keep her promise to Grunkle Ford and fulfill the Oracle’s prophecy, she would definitely need to up her game. Her family’s lives were at stake, because lives were always on the line when it came to Bill, and she was the one who had the experience to deal with it.

“Alright dudes, I got some good news and I got some bad news.” Soos stated to the teens with his hands on his hips. “Bad news is, this secret door is totally busted, here look.” To demonstrate, he closed the vending machine back into place so it was unrecognizable as a secret door. Without using the correct code to unlock it, he simply grabbed it by the corners and opened it back up with his hands. “It won’t stay locked doods. But the good news is, I can just buy another locking mechanism and it’ll be good as new.”

He pulled out his phone, realized it was dead, and chuckled. “Heya Dipper, could I borrow your phone to buy another lock for this thing?” He asked, affectionately patting the shredded vending machine.

The teen boy raised a brow but handed the man his phone. “Why don’t we just buy a whole new vending machine instead?”

“Oho, good thinking Dipper.” Soos complimented. As he typed on the handheld computer, he mumbled. “Vending… machines… for… sale…” 

“And in the meantime,” Mabel chirped, “we can incorporate our out of order gizmo as an attraction. I’m thinking something like a savage beaver attack; driven by their dark master to steal the Mystery Shack’s snacks and return them to him.” 

“I like it.” Soos grinned.

“It would definitely explain the water damage.” Dipper added.

“Huh?” Pacifica questioned as she munched on her potato chips. 

Dipper shrugged, “Beavers build dams. They dammed the Mystery Shack and flooded it because they’re beavers.” Then he added in a less confident tone, “That does make sense, right?”

“Yeah, those damn beavers damming the Mystery Shack. Damn them.” Mabel laughed as she took another bite of her chocolate bar.

Dipper joined in with the fun with a smirk, “Soos is going to have to give dam tours now.”

“I’m getting sick of these dam puns.” Pacifica said with an eye roll.

“See, Paz is in on it too.” Dipper giggled.

“Nice, Paz.” Mabel cheered, hopping off the counter and approaching her to give her a high five.

“Ok ok seriously you two, you needed to go shower like ten minutes ago.” Pacifica sassed, gently pushing Mabel away from her and pinching her nose.

“Yeah yeah, we smell like brains I get it.” The girl dismissed with a hand wave. “We’ll go clean up.” She reassured and skipped off towards the upstairs bathroom. 

“Hey Mabel, wait up.” Dipper called after her when she had made it halfway up the stairs.

“Oh hey bro-bro, what’s up?” She said, pausing with her hand on the handrail.

Her brother sheepishly shifted his feet a little while looking at the floor before he determinedly met her eyes. “Uh, I just wanted to say that you were super brave today and I thought that was pretty cool. Also, are you ok? I probably should’ve started with that.”

Mabel chuckled softly and turned around down the few steps between them to embrace her twin in a hug. When they separated, she stated, “Thank you Dipper, and yeah I’m okay,” but then she paused and spared a glance to the crimson stained glass window upstairs before continuing, “hey- did you feel anything watching us when we were upstairs? It felt like Bill was munching on popcorn through the window watching us fight the Eye Stealer.”

Dipper’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and he practically gasped, causing Mabel to have to stifle a snicker because she reminded herself that this was a serious thing to be talking about. He told her, “What? No I didn’t. But man, that makes a lot of sense after today. I’ll have to be more vigilant.” He said determinedly, bringing a fist down on his open palm.

Mabel frowned just a teensy bit at the thought of her brother speaking about going looking for danger because of course that was what he was implying, it was Dipper they were talking about here. But Dipper failed to notice his sister’s shift in expression when he became quite excited and distracted by an incredibly aged arrow, snapped half way up the shaft that Mabel took out of her back pocket and showed him.

“Is that one of the arrows from the Eye Stealer? I was wondering about those.” Dipper gasped, holding out his hands to get a closer look at the thing.

The sweater wearing girl gently placed the artifact in his hands and chirped, “Yep, sure is. Does it look familiar to that nerdy brain of yours at all?”

He tapped the pointed arrowhead and examined the wood carefully, scrunching up his face in thought. “Well, the gnomes tip their arrows with pinecones and the centaurs’ arrowheads would be much larger than this so if I had to wager a guess, I think this is manmade. I’ve found some human crafted arrowheads out in the woods and they’re an exact match.”

Mabel took the arrow back and tapped it against her palm saying, “Huh, well that’s neat. Then I gotta hunch where we can go next to see if we can find out more about our little eye stealing friend and these arrows. I remember Grunkle Ford saying something about a cave at one point. But that’s an adventure for another day because we stink and I’m exhausted.”

Dipper nodded nerdily. “Okay, well I’ll get to researching then.”

“After you take a shower.” Mabel reminded as she lightly elbowed him in the ribs.

“Yeah, after.” He agreed, looking down at the slime that covered his cargo pants. He smiled at her and turned down the stairs and rushed off to the parlor to grab a change of clothes.

Once she was out of sight from Dipper, Mabel sighed tiredly and gazed with a thinking frown at the broken arrow in her palms. No matter how much she missed him, Grunkle Ford wasn’t there to give her the answers she needed to this whole thing. So she would have to do the detective work on her own. Maybe whoever shot this arrow could give more clarification on what the Eye Stealer really was and what Bill was up to. Or maybe, she mused as she eyed her cloak still covering the bathroom mirror, Ford could help her out more than she thought.

Chapter Text

It was hot, deadly hot. She had no body to burn but she felt the frenzied flames bubble her skin anyways and it all moved in slow motion as a black cloud of thick smoke rose out of the heat shattered windows and choked the starry sky. The Mystery Shack was ablaze, half engulfed in fire and she was there to witness it like it was a movie, disengaged from anything actually going on. A shadowed figure was there, no actually four dark figures were there with their backs to her in the front yard. One of them broke off from the group at full speed, seemingly immune to the rest of the world moving at a snail’s pace, and dashed into the burning house as the other three stood still. By the light of the fire she recognized him as Dipper and she wanted to yell, telling him to stop, but she had no mouth in which to vocalize her worry with.

Mabel gasped for air as a scream died on her vocal cords, clawing the heat from her skin as she kicked out of a tangle of blankets, nearly falling out of bed entirely. She stared wide eyed at the ceiling on her mattress, letting the heat radiate off of her as she listened to her heartbeat slowly remove itself from her ears. Looking to her side, she found Pacifica sleeping soundly while softly snoring, completely dead to the world. Mabel stared back at the ceiling as a frown tugged at her lips. Was this going to be the new norm? Every night another nightmare? Maybe she should start keeping a journal of all the things she was seeing, just in case. 

With tired limbs, the girl rolled out of bed as moonlight poured into the room and gazed out the window at the twinkling stars beyond. The teen dug out an old unused spiral notebook from under her bed with a sparkling, chromatic cover. It was no journal but it would have to do. She plucked a fuzz tipped pen from a lumpy, handcrafted ceramic mug on the nightstand and got to work. Maybe she should start writing down everything that was going on actually. Ugh, she was acting so much like her nerdy grunkle right now. Or Dipper too she supposed. But Ford and Dipper were smart and if they would keep tabs on things if they was in her situation, then so would she. Besides, it wasn’t like she was ever opposed to keeping a dream journal anyways. Now that she thought about it, she actually had one back when she was eight, lost it at Shermie’s house one weekend, and then never saw it again. She guessed now was a good time as ever to pick the hobby back up. As her pen scratched against parchment, the page illuminated by the moon’s rays, the night went on around her until it was ushered away by the first rays of dawn.

In Mabel’s mind, it couldn’t be a coincidence that on the same day she had two terrible back to back nightmares for the first time in ages, they learned that Mr. Northwest was moving back in only to be greeted by a horrifying monster that seemed like it wanted into the portal room. Or if it was then it was at least one worth exploring. So as she rolled the pink arrow she had plucked from the Eye Stealer back and forth in her hand while she stared at the water damage that seemed to line the baseboards everywhere in the house, she decided she had some research to do. The television droned on in the background as Dipper and Pacifica laid slumped over on the couch, their lazy Saturday afternoon of watching cartoons together having turned to nap time about thirty minutes ago. Careful not to wake the slumbering couple, Mabel hopped off the T. Rex skull and reached into Dipper’s jacket pocket and pulled out Journal 3 and his cellphone. After taking several dozen cutesy photos of him she could hopefully later print out and use as blackmail, she returned to her perch atop the dino’s head and stared down at the book.

Upon seeing the gold foil, torn crimson leather, and monocle, her heart squeezed wistfully as she smelled the scent of ink and yellowed paper. Just seeing Grunkle Ford’s handwriting on the inside cover made many memories of waiting for portals to open come back to her and she could hear in her mind the scratching of his pen strokes against paper under countless alien skies while he journaled to pass the time. A sudden lump formed in her throat but she pushed it away, now wasn’t the time for reminiscing about the past, even though she was looking through his dusty old diary for it. Because while they often waited for interdimensional gateways to open, Ford also did a lot of talking. She remembered on one such occasion he went off about the rich and colorful history of Gravity Falls, mentioning the native people of the valley. Because apparently-

Oh, here it is. Mabel thought, ending her train of thought to read through a page near the beginning labeled, “A Bit of History”.

Chewing on the pink silk her bell was tied to since her hair was still too short for the job, she read, “ AD 1000: Native people mysteriously evacuate town in a hurry. Describe Gravity Falls as ‘cursed land.’ Leave behind treasure trove of pottery, blankets, and symbols. Some art depicts my Muse, and his interactions with a shaman named Modoc. ”

She clicked her tongue in thought upon reading the cursive on the page since her memory was correct, Ford had said this Modoc guy had interacted with Bill at some point and created some sort of prophecy concerning him in a cave. Only one other person Mabel knew made prophecies like that and she was incredibly talented in the ways of Axolotl magic. Plus, if there were writings about Bill somewhere in the mountains, odds were there would also be some info on the Axolotl too. If she was to keep her family together against the threats that were beginning to come, she would be needing a whole lot more magic. So it appeared that a visit to these caves was on the top of her to-do list, even before decorating the shack for Christmas and Hanukkah, which made a part of her rather glum. But that could be tomorrow’s celebration, she figured.

Hopping off the skull once more, she gently shook the sleeping pair until their eyes dazedly fluttered open and Dipper yawned, “Huh, what? What is it?”

“C’mon you guys, it’s time for our totally awesome adventure to some super sweet caves with me!” The girl exclaimed. “Unless you’d rather snooze the day away, that is.”

Pacifica blinked the sleep from her eyes as she sat upright on the couch. “What’s so cool about these caves again?”

“Grunkle Ford talked to me about them once, apparently they have like all this magic writing inside or some junk like that.” She informed with an eager smile. 

“Oh I remember reading about that in Journal 2.” Dipper said, suddenly sounding very excited as he hopped off the couch. “Hang on, I’ll go grab the other two journals and I’ll be right back.” The next second he was gone, having rushed to his parlor bedroom to retrieve his stuff.

“This better be worth waking me up for, you two.” Pacifica grumbled, smoothing out her hair and reapplying her sleep smudged lipstick in a small, foldable mirror she retrieved from her pocket.

“You won’t regret it Paz, from what I’ve heard, this place is gonna be interesting.” Mabel reassured her. What she didn’t tell her was that she was taking them to the very caves Ford had summoned Bill Cipher in. But that seemed rather irrelevant at the moment because she was going for the potential information on beating Cipher that could be there and not how to summon him.

“Uh-hu, sure hun. Caves are wet and cold and full of creepy crawly bugs.” The blonde sassed as she headed for the coat rack to put on her lavender, white fur lined overcoat. “But I’ll come with you because I just love you so much.” She said with a smirk.

“You mean because you love Dipper so much?” Mabel added while she wiggled her eyebrows.

A warmness flushed on the other girl’s cheeks and she broke eye contact as a smile and a soft laughter came to her.

The brunette continued, “You’re all like, hi my name is Pacifica and I want to smooch Dipper all day long , mwah, mwah, mwah,” while making a kissy face at the girl.

Pacifica playfully shoved her and said easily, “Hey, knock it off.”

“Don’t you deny it, sister.” She said cheekily.

Just then, Dipper returned to the foyer with a backpack filled with Journal 1 and 2, his own notebook, a flashlight, various pens and pencils, and a full water bottle in each of the side pockets. Mabel handed him Journal 3 with a knowing smirk and the teen boy eagerly packed the tome into his backpack while he avoided his sister’s judgement. But as much as she liked teasing him about his nerdiness, she had to admit that it was good thinking on his part bringing a good chunk of Ford’s research with them on this particular expedition. Actually, that reminded her…

“Hang on love birds, I’ll be right back.” She informed them as she clasped her cloak around her shoulders and ran up the stairs. Retrieving her dream journal and fuzzy pen from the nightstand took little time at all and she stuffed them, along with the arrow, into Dipper’s pack too. “Oh, who put the chipackers in here?” She asked as she zipped closed the top.

“I did while you were gone,” Pacifica announced proudly, “I figured we shouldn’t go hungry out there.”

Mabel held up her hand for a high five and the blonde didn’t leave her hanging. “You’re brilliant, Paz.” 

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.” Pacifica grinned with a hair flip.

The sweater wearing girl, with today’s knitted pattern being a snowman holding a mug of hot cocoa, slipped on her combat boots as Dipper took the opportunity to compliment his girlfriend. “Well, you’re much braver than you think you are.” 

He received a kiss on the cheek for his efforts, which Mabel gushed at. “Aw cute, now let’s go.” She commanded with much gusto as she opened the front door that had only just been reinstalled the night before.

“Soos, we’re leaving!” Pacifica yelled into the depths of the shack, hoping the man wouldn’t be too caught up in his vending machine repairs to hear.

There was no response and she only shrugged as the three of them headed out the door and into the woods that had received a half foot of snow from the storm over the night. They passed by the carcass of the Eye Stealer still in the front yard, which Soos had been rather unsure of what to do with. Mabel assured him that she would figure out how to dispose of it soon but for the time being, the giant frozen spider wasn’t doing any harm. In fact, it seemed to only further intrigue the few winter tourists that had stopped by today and at least one family had taken a photo with the thing and commented on how realistically creepy the ‘prop’ had looked.

Dipper turned to his twin as they tromped through the snow and smiled, “Hey, I seem to remember someone telling me she’d finally teach me magic today.”

“Please don’t,” Pacifica worried as the other girl gasped while a grin came to her lips, “I’ve seen the things you can do and Dipper will surely kill himself trying to copy you.”

“Oh don’t worry girl,” Mabel said with a cheery expression, “Prepared to be totally blown away bro as I teach you the coolest thing ever.”

“Now repeat everything I just said so I know you got it.” Mabel commanded her brother some time later in the snowy redwoods. 

Over the last twenty or so minutes, Mabel had gone off about the basics of Axolotl magic but also about how she had learned to spellcast and then went on a long tangent about the times it had saved her and Ford’s life. By the time she had finished, the trio had managed to hike over a mile and Dipper had filled several more pages of the spare journal he carried around everywhere with him. 

He chuckled, “Do you want it word for word, teacher Mabel?” 

“Hey, that’s Professor Mabel to you, and absolutely.” Mabel proclaimed, spreading her arms out wide and smacking a bush hard enough to get her sweater sleeve stuck on it in the process.

 Pacifica left Dipper’s side to help the girl untangle herself from the foliage with minimal damage to her clothing and the boy began as well as he could from memory, “Kay, so, there are-”

“Cheese!” Mabel interrupted as she plucked a few stubborn splinters from her sleeve. Her brother rolled his eyes at her and she added with a shrug, “What? You said queso.” 

She was so busy making the joke that she didn’t see Dipper step over a patch of ice on the trail ahead of her and placed her boot right in the center of it. All Mabel knew was that one second she was upright, and the next she was looking at the sky as her bell from her neck rang and flashed red.

“Oof, are you okay hon? That looked like a hard fall.” Pacifica cringed.

The brunette jumped right back up as if she was made of rubber and chirped, “Yup, the good ‘ol magical bell saved my butt,” taking the jingle bell that hung from her neck in her hands and showing it off to both of them.

“Well there’s one of the two forms of Axolotl magic right there.” Dipper stated, pointing to the bell with his pen. “Rituals give magic to objects like the bell you carry around your neck and it was given runes through a ritual. Those runes give it shielding magic that can be recharged after it’s used.” He finished, sticking his pen behind his ear.

Mabel enthusiastically gave him finger guns while cheering, “That’s totally right,” as their incline steepened to the point where they could reach out and touch the large deposition of rocks and boulders on the mountainside. The pines that grew here were thin and hardy with more distance between them than the thick, old growth further below. 

They slowed their pace to allow themselves to more carefully traverse the steep and snowy terrain and Dipper used a large rock as a handhold as he continued, “There’s also five spells, a light spell, wind spell, water spell, a plant or growth spell, and a healing spell.”

“And what’s unique about the healing spell, Dip?” Mabel quizzed as she hefted herself over and sat on top of a rather large pine root that stuck out from the eroded trail.

Dipper bit his lip in thought as he helped Pacifica around a loose patch of gravel and said, “Oh, it’s that it’s a subsection under the plant spell, right? Because even though each of the spells has its own symbols that need to be drawn, the words you say for the growth and Healing Spell are the same?”

Mabel nodded, “That’s right Dip. Look at you go, you super smarty pants, you.” Gazing up to the top of the incline that came right against the base of an expansive rockface snug against the mountainside, Mabel got an idea that would make the short remainder of their hike much easier. “Here, I’ll show you an example,” she stated as she rang her handbell and then said, “Aucwcmw, afr evbd gochha,” while she drew three runes. As she touched her fingertips to the root she sat on, it grew up and down the sheer trail like a set of living stairs.

“Ta da.” Mabel bowed.

“Oh that’s so awesome.” Dipper grinned as he stepped onto the creaky stairway. 

“Is it safe?” Pacifica questioned, raising a brow suspiciously at the magically grown structure. 

Mabel briefly stroked her chin and hummed in thought before she began to jump as hard and high as she could on the steps. All her work only got the woody growth to gently bounce under her weight and it held strong.

The blonde shrugged and changed her footing from the frozen stream bed to the rooted stairs. She pointed to the steps and sniffed, “Thanks love, but you should’ve done this like five minutes ago.” 

“Thanks love ?” Mabel chuckled, breaking out her British accent, “What, are we British now? Well it’s a good thing you packed the biscuits, innit?”

The other girl rolled her eyes as Mabel giggled and ran off up the stairs to the top of the steep incline. Pacifica took Dipper’s hand and they walked at a more leisurely pace to the bottom of the rock face and gasped at what they saw. Mabel was standing just at the opening of a cave large enough for them to walk upright into as a tiny, bubbling brook that was really no more than a trickle flowed out from the right side and ran down the trail they had hiked up. The sweater wearing girl unsheathed her cracked pink and white dagger and ran her fingers along its runes. It gave a valiant attempt at lighting up in a pink glow but it only lasted for a few seconds before shutting off again.

“It’s okay, that was a good try.” She cooed at her weapon and she patted it before resheathing it. 

“Oh man, it’s way bigger than I thought it’d be.” Pacifica breathed behind her, gazing into the cavity in the rock.

“That’s what she said.” Mabel smirked, looking over her shoulder at the couple.

Pacifica scoffed at the joke as Dipper was too busy excitedly digging through his backpack to notice. He pulled his own journal and flashlight out of the bag and looked up at Mabel and asked, “Do you want your notebook too, Mabel?”

“Yes please, I gotta document all the important stuff in here.” She chirped and her brother handed her the sparkly notebook and her pen. While he thought it was a bit odd that Mabel had insisted on bringing her own paper to write their discoveries down on, he didn’t think much of it. It wasn’t much her style to be the one wanting to take notes, she usually liked to just live in the moment instead. Perhaps it was just that Ford had rubbed off on her more than he had previously realized.

The boy also retrieved the arrow from the pack and gave Pacifica the job of holding it, along with the flashlight, while he held his own journal. “Huh, we should’ve brought like- headlamps or something.” Dipper observed upon seeing there was only one flashlight between the three of them.

Mabel cheered, “Haven’t you learned anything about magic at all, Dip-dop? Never fear because Mabel is here.” She cast a Light Spell and a ball of radiance engulfed her hand, lighting up the drippy cave like a lantern.

“Hey, that’s perfect.” Pacifica said with her lips curled upward in a curious smile, her previous complaints on going out forgotten and replaced by the thrill of adventure. Flashlight in one hand and arrow in the other, she took the first step into the cavern and motioned for the other two to follow with a nod.

“Woah Paz, you sure are eager to go exploring all of the sudden.” Dipper commented as Mabel jogged past them so she could be in the lead, notebook in one hand as she held up her other and lit the space. He couldn’t see it, but her expression was solemn.

Feeling rather called out by her boyfriend’s words, she huffed and deflected, “Well I just wanted to get out of the snow, that’s all. Don’t go looking into it too much.”

Dipper laughed softly as they passed through the main torch soot stained passage and said, “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

As they continued further into the moist cave, the sunlight died and they became reliant on Pacifica’s flashlight and Mabel’s spell to be able to see. Surprisingly enough, the air inside was slightly warmer than on the outside, although particularly humid, which Dipper was grateful for. They walked for several minutes, with Mabel uncharacteristically silent the whole way as Dipper softly made conversation with Pacifica. His sister didn’t seem interested in looking down every nook and cranny like he was, instead she plowed right along, barely giving the hieroglyphs depicting daily life of the native people of Gravity Falls a glance and stepping right by all the pottery sherds that he thought were fascinating. It was quite unlike her, the boy observed and was as if she was looking for something specific in here. 

“Mabel, are you ok? You’re being awfully quiet.” Dipper started as he briefly paused to admire some triangular geometric art drawn on a rather tall stalactite.

“Hm? Oh yeah, I’m just- thinking.” She responded distractedly.

“About what?” Pacifica prodded.

“About how great this place would look with some chandeliers.” Mabel lied.

She approached a flat space in the wall showing several people bowing down to Bill, with instructions written in runes beneath it explaining how to summon him. A variety of stone tools and half broken pots littered the room but none of it mattered to Mabel, her eyes were singular to the art right in front of her and she gazed up at it with wonder. It was strange, she thought, that Ford had stood in this very spot over three decades ago and summoned the demon that started it all. Without this cave painting, Grunkle Stan might have never come to Gravity Falls and she and Ford would’ve never experienced the Multiverse. Ford had no way of knowing that this bit of ancient art would change all their lives for better and for worse, but maybe there was something here that could change their lives here and now and hopefully for the better. Looking to her left and right, more depictions of Bill were drawn about. Good, that was definitely a start. Now to find information on defeating the Demon King, if it even existed here. She hoped it did.

“C’mon Modoc, gimme something good here.” She muttered under her breath as she stepped over a puddle on the damp, stony floor. 

A little further down the corridor, there was a rather tall slab of flat wall with a large drawing of Bill surrounded by ten symbols that caught her eye and the teen girl approached it curiously. Dipper couldn’t say he blamed Mabel’s draw towards the art, the whole thing looked quite eerie and larger than life in the light, like something ripped straight from a movie set. Not to mention, he felt uneasy with all the Bill imagery surrounding him. Bad memories of discovering Ford’s secret study flickered through his mind and he had to squeeze Pacifica’s hand to dispel them. She squeezed his hand back and gave him a reassuring look, telling him that she knew what he had been through and was here for him.

“What are those symbols?” He found himself half gasping and half inquiring, his quest to learn to spellcast now largely forgotten. 

“I recognize some of these, don’t you Dipper?” Mabel asked, pointing to various symbols surrounding the demon. “Look, there’s the pine tree from your hat and the shooting star for me.”

Dipper wowed at the sight and exclaimed, “And there’s the thing from Stan’s fez and a six fingered hand for Ford. And a question mark?”

Mabel tapped her foot, “I dunno, maybe it represents the Mystery Shack? There’s a lot of question marks there.”

“And then there’s the Tent of Telepathy sign and the heart from Robbie’s sweatshirt. But also a pair of glasses and an ice bag?” Dipper puzzled, scratching his head.

Pacifica paled, suddenly feeling rather sick. “There’s a llama… Bill used to call me Llama and I had no idea why.” She shot the Cipher on the wall a venomous glare for good measure, just in case he happened to be watching them. “I hate you.” She hissed at it.

Dipper put his arm around her shoulder to comfort her and blinked. “Wait. Llama, Shooting Star, Question Mark, Pine Tree… Mabel-!” His anxious voice echoed around several times in the room, gradually diminishing into nothing.

Mabel winced at her brother’s yell and spun around, slightly irritated. “Dipper, I’m right here, you don’t have to yell. What is it?”

He told her desperately like the fate of the world depended on it, “Th-these symbols, don’t you see? These are things Bill has all called us. That has to mean something.” 

Mabel scrunched up her face in thought as she wrote down everything they had discovered so far. “I dunno, that’s why we’re here though, right? I don’t think we should panic or anything like that, let’s keep going and see what else we can find.”

Dipper sighed anxiously beside his nervous girlfriend and retorted, “But Mabel-”

“No buts, except yours following mine.” His sister responded as she glanced back at them. While the art with the ten symbols was definitely interesting to look at, she didn’t even know how to begin making heads or tails of it so she figured the more they found, the better it’d be. Honestly they could probably sit here all day in this room alone combing through every little thing but today she was here for the big stuff. She paused briefly to view a depiction of Bill coming apart as he was being swallowed up by a rift in the sky of some sort as several people stood atop the mountains to push him back. Nothing seemed to be of use to her there, no writing or helpful information, it was just a depiction of a nightmare as far as she was concerned. So it wasn’t what she was looking for down here.

“Mabel, don’t you think we should stop and look at this?” Dipper asked, pointing at the painting portraying Bill’s demise.

“Did that already happen or is it going to happen, or is it metaphorical?” Pacifica questioned apprehensively.

Mabel shrugged as she confidently went onwards up ahead, giving Dipper some serious déjà vu to yesterday when she led them along in the halls of the Mystery Shack while they searched for Soos and the Eye Stealer. “I don’t think there’s anything there Dipper, it’s just a picture.” 

“Well maybe it’s connected to that wheel thing with all of us back there?” Dipper countered while he dug Journal 2 from his pack. 

“You mean like you think they could tell a story?” Pacifica puzzled.

Mabel hummed in thought. “Hm, maybe.” She figured that Dipper and Pacifica did have a point, if there was information on how to summon Bill in here, there had to be information on how to take him out. That was the whole reason she was here, wasn’t it? That mural did show Bill getting his angle kicked so maybe it was worth more than she previously thought. “What’re you thinking, bro-bro?”

“Okay I know this sounds crazy,” Dipper started as he looked up from where he was reading a specific page of Journal 2, “but what if we got all those symbols together, or-or the people in those symbols together?” He opened the book to a page depicting the same exact image of Bill surrounded by a wheel of ten symbols as in the cave and pointed to it. “Ford says here that this shaman Modoc guy made an ancient prophecy of these symbols making a big change. So what if we did that? Then what could happen?”

Mabel gave the open page a good up and down look before sighing, “Well Dipper, Grunkle Ford and Grunkle Stan are in a different dimension right now so that’s useless to us. There’s gotta be something else here that can help me, I mean us.” Something worried in Mabel’s gut upon hearing Dipper speak of that prophecy. It seemed as though this one that he had gotten so excited about had been debunked and it made her uneasy about the nature of the prophecy concerning her. What if the one given to her by the Oracle would fail too? No, she wouldn’t let the Oracle down, she was too kind and sweet to have Mabel disappointing her. If Jess had faith in her to carry out a prophecy, then she would just need more faith in herself. 

Dipper clicked his pen several times as he thought before he finally sucked in a deep breath through his teeth and deflated. “Yeah you’re right, Mabel. Darn, I really thought I was onto something.”

“That was a good idea though, babe.” Pacifica comforted, moving her arm to pat him on the shoulder. She remembered that she was still holding a gross old arrow in her hand and stopped herself and opted to smile sweetly at him instead.

At the end of the narrower corridor the space opened up and they entered a new room, one that was flat and spacious with the ground having been smoothed out by hand and covered evenly with sand. Several flint tools and half buried pots and vases were scattered about and in the middle of the space was what appeared to be a stone cauldron with runes circling the bottom as it sat heavily on the long dead remains of a fire. One of the walls was covered from head to toe in writings of all sorts in a language that was very different to the runes they had run into earlier. 

“Oh wow.” Dipper breathed as he took in the sights, his eyes scanning the writing on the wall. “I’ve never seen a language like this before.” He mumbled as he tapped his foot in thought.

Mabel walked up to the cauldron inquisitively and crouched down to brush her fingers against the runes and said, “Wait, I’ve seen one of these before. An Axolotl priest guy gave me a potion from a cauldron that looked just like this once.” Excitement and pain bubbled up inside of her at the same time, the latter emotion since she was remembering the less than ideal circumstances that had led her to seek help and need the potion to heal Grunkle Ford in the first place. Bad memories of being injured and on the run from Bill’s personal assassin sprung up in her head and needless to say, they weren’t pleasant. But she had just found what she was looking for, potential information on how to strengthen her magic and it made her giddy. If Modoc had spent time here, he seemed to have worked with the Axolotl if the familiar runes on the cauldron were anything to go by and that was good news for her.

Pacifica brushed the dust off a nearby vase and clicked her tongue when she saw a depiction of the little painted Axolotl hovering in the night sky above a small Bill in front of a sunrise. “Yeah, that tracks. Get a look at this.”

“Huh, the Axolotl is worshipped like an opposite to Bill, right Mabel?” Dipper inquired with his hands on his hips as he observed the pottery. 

Slowly pacing around the cauldron and examining its every detail she answered, “Spot on bro-bro. I don’t know a super ton about it but Katee seemed to think of them as ancient embodiments of law vs. chaos or something philosophical like that.” She stopped when she saw a lantern and a handful of glass vials half buried in the sand that definitely didn’t belong with the rest of the artifacts and heaved the lantern out of the ground. “That’s interesting.” She mumbled to herself, wondering who the objects belonged to. Grunkle Ford perhaps?

“That’s your uh- priestess friend right?” Pacifica asked, brushing the dirt from her knees as she got to her feet.

“Paladin, but yes. She’s the one who taught me Axolotl magic in the first place.”

As Pacifica made her way to the center of the room to get a good look at the cauldron for herself, Dipper and Mabel approached the wall full of writing. There were two distinct columns of text side by side, each with six main bulleted blurbs of runes with varying paragraphs of information below each of them. On both the columns, a simple picture had been drawn beside each of the bulleted sentences. From top to bottom they were an eye, a sun, a gust of wind, a wave, a flowering plant, and a bandaged hand. The column on the right however, had a drawing of a bottle full of liquid to go along with each picture, each a varying color. 

Mabel’s eyes went back and forth between the little ball of light in her fist and the two shining suns drawn on the wet cave wall since they seemed to be almost a perfect match. She mumbled to herself as she stared up at the left column, “Huh, eye, light, wind, water, plant, healing. They almost seem to match up with the themes of the spells… But what then what the heck does the eye mean?” 

From the right column of text beside her, Dipper rapidly flipped through Journal 2. “Yeah I was thinking the same thing. But I swear I’ve seen something about this in the journals somewhere before. I was just reading it yesterday.” There was nothing but the sounds of flowing water trickling down from several places on the walls and from the damp ceiling and while pages were turned as the teen rushed to find what he was looking for. “...I wonder if we could translate it.” He mumbled to himself.

Mabel fiddled with the partially rusted knob on the lantern and to her surprise, it actually came to life and brought a warm electric glow to the room. Well that was good for her, now she could free up her hand holding the ball of light for other more useful things and she threw the magical radiance onto the ground and watched it fizzle out as she set the lantern on the floor. “Sweet, this thing still works.” She said to no one in particular.

Feeling a little left out by the twins’ conversation, Pacifica stepped along the damp sandy ground with the intention to read over her boyfriend’s shoulder but only made it about halfway to him before she tripped over something sticking out of the ground that nearly made her hit the floor. “Ugh, what the?” She carped as she turned around to glare at what had made her trip. But when she saw it was the top of a small clay bottle sealed shut with sappy glue and a stone lid, she changed her tone and crouched beside it to get a better look. 

“Woah, what’d you find Paz?” Mabel probed as she strolled up to her.

“I-I don’t know.” Pacifica shrugged.

The commotion got Dipper’s attention, who stopped furiously scanning the journal just long enough to approach the girls. Mabel reached right over and gently plucked the container out of the sand. It was undecorated and small enough to be held in the palm of her hand and shaking the thing beside her ear proved that it was still full of liquid. 

“Wait Mabel, this is an archeological site, you can’t just pick things up.” Dipper complained.

“Meh, too late.” Mabel shrugged.

Digging her nails through the hardened sap and under the stone topper was easier said than done but inside was a brightly glowing, royal blue liquid that smelled of rain. Dipper inhaled loudly once he saw what was inside and his head snapped up to one of the chunks of text on the right column that also just so happened to show a bottle of something the same color as the liquid Mabel currently held. He began to go through journal pages once more at high speed as he paced back and forth in front of them, mumbling under his breath and clearly looking for something in particular.

“Ooh mysterious glowing liquid of undetermined age. drink it, I dare you.” Mabel smiled at the blonde as she held the bottle out under her chin.

Pacifica shoved it back into Mabel’s hands. “Ew no, I’m not doing that.”

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait, oh my gosh I think I figured it out.” Dipper grinned widely just like he did whenever he solved the plot twist to a movie before its reveal and while he paced back and forth in front of the girls with excitement and he began to read a particular page near the end of Journal 2. “The journal, the cave writings, everything!” 

“Well, do you care to share it with the rest of us?” His girlfriend said with a raised brow.

The young man abruptly stopped his walking and blurted, “Yeah here it is, come look,” and continued to read quickly. 

“What does it say?” Mabel chirped as she pocketed the bottle for later and came to the other side of her brother and tried to read Ford’s upside down cursive.

“Mabel, quit hogging the space. Let me see too.” Pacifica said, nudging the girl out of the way enough with her hip to also huddle around the journal.

The brunette saw this as a competition and bumped the blonde back out of the way with her hips, earning her an irritated look from her friend. “Mabel, stop that.” 

“Ok ok, fine. There’s plenty of room for both of us.” She giggled, side stepping enough for Pacifica to join the circle once more.

The boy cleared his throat and gave a nerdy glance to his sister and girlfriend before pointing to a cursive paragraph and explaining, “Apparently Ford has been here before and took some of the bottles he found home with him and was able to reverse engineer one of them to find out the ingredients.” He pointed to an illustration near the top of the page showing several glass vials full of different colored liquids matching the ones on the cavern wall. “A-and he was able to actually make a potion but it only worked when he used this cauldron here in the cave. But that’s not even the best part.” 

Dipper gestured eagerly to the runed writings on the walls and continued on like he was run by a motor, “While Ford never translated the text, he seems to think that the writing on the right is about instructions on potion brewing. So using that logic, if we can find the english words for the ingredients in the journal that correspond with the rune language’s words for them here, then theoretically we can translate everything in this room. I just really hope that information isn’t in any of those washed out areas.” He finished, touching one of the few blurbs of information on the right that had eroded away and been lost to time.

“That’s so smart, babe.” Pacifica smiled proudly at her boyfriend, turning his ears pink.

“Oh, you really think so? Thanks Paz.” Dipper blushed as he sat on the sand and began to look for words on the wall that could be a match to the ingredients he had written down in his notebook. Pacifica sat beside him with her own pen, ready to help him crack the code even though she would never admit she was having fun doing nerdy junk with him.

The sweater wearing girl tilted her head at the left column of text and narrowed her eyes as she reapproached it and really got an up close and personal look at it for the first time. “Huh, they kinda look like my dagger’s runes. Wait-” Mabel unsheathed her knife and began to compare the symbols on her weapon to the ones on the wall. “They do look similar.” She mused as she scanned the top line of writing. Something a little further down caught her eye, near the illustration of the ball of light. It was something she had drawn in the air and on paper numerous times before. “No way, I recognize those symbols, I drew them to cast my light spell.” Mabel gasped. In fact, the runes she drew for each of the five spells was there in the left column under their respective sections. But it still didn’t explain what was up with the sixth section on the left and right, the eye. Katee hadn’t ever mentioned anything about a sight themed spell and while she knew a little about brewing among Axolotl paladins and priests, she had never heard of any potion that matched the picture.

Beside her, Dipper and Pacifica were too distracted by their work to hear her revelation and Dipper muttered, “Hm, this magic isn’t like any other in any of Ford’s writings. It’s-it’s distinctly different from regular Gravity Falls magic, I would know. It’s almost otherworldly.”

“That’s because it is otherworldly, Dip!” Mabel laughed. “It’s Axolotl magic, it’s multiversal.”

“But Ford doesn’t mention that anywhere in here.” Dipper muttered with his brows pinched, flipping back a page to double check his claim.

The girl rolled her eyes good naturedly. “Of course he didn’t, Grunkle Ford can be wildly unobservant when he wants to be. And I mean that in the nicest possible way.”

Dipper gave her a puzzled expression. “I still don’t understand.” Pacifica nodded in agreement.

Mabel “Here, I’ll explain. The runes on the cauldron look like the ones that Axolotl priest guy used to help me and the images next to the writing on the left match perfectly with the themes of the spells I cast, minus the eye, I dunno what’s up with that. But then on the right, those same six pictures are there along with a picture of a potion. So I think that these two blobs of writing are talking about Axolotl spells and brewing. It makes sense, right?”

The teen boy pointed from the cauldron to the symbols on the wall and said, “That would make the whole room we’re in like a-a sort of ancient kitchen right? The cookbook has just been written on the walls.”

“Yeah, but who did it belong to?” Pacifica mused as she tapped her pencil to her jaw. 

“Modoc.” Both Mabel and Dipper both said in unison.

“Jinx.” The girl chirped. “You owe me a soda.”

Dipper chuckled and asked Pacifica, “Haven’t you been paying attention, Paz?”

She instinctively shot him a look that made him recoil but then her expression softened and she sighed, “Sorry, I guess I am having a hard time wrapping my head around all this. I didn’t read Ford’s smelly old books like you nerds have.”

Mabel pretended to be insulted by her words and she tutted, “Putting me in the nerd pile with Dipper, really? I’m here to get stronger so that’d make me a jock.” She giggled and continued, “But really girl, my totally nerdy bro and I think this has gotta be Modoc the shaman’s cave-”

“Modoc the Wise.” Dipper corrected.

“Yeah, Modoc the Wise’s cave. He must have drawn that prophecy about Bill back there, whatever it means, but it’s no use anymore. It looks like he had a turn of heart and began worshiping the Axolotl after whatever happened between him and Bill if the clues in this room are anything to go off of.” Mabel explained sweetly.

Dipper tapped his pen to the side of his head. “Now all we gotta do is translate these runes and confirm what the heck he was going on about here.”

“Good thing you brought snacks.” Mabel commented to Pacifica while she dug around in Dipper’s backpack and pulled out the box of chipackers.

“Yeah, good thing.” The blonde half-laughed as she took a water bottle from the pack’s side pocket and unscrewed the lid.

“...That would mean that the word root matches with this slash and dot…” Dipper muttered, chewing his lip while he resumed his work.

Mabel sat back down in the sand, ready to try her own translating. But the second her pen hit the page, an emotion she was quite familiar with filled her brain and made her internally groan. Suddenly trying to put in the work to crack this puzzle seemed to be about the most boring thing in the world to her. Honestly in retrospect she should have known better that she would have little interest in something that got Dipper so darn excited. Taking a look over at her brother’s notebook, it looked like he was breaking down the runes into their base parts and- wait was that math? Ew gross, she definitely didn’t want anything to do with this anymore. 

But really, what other choice did she have? The key to what she was missing could be here on this wall, waiting to be translated. Well maybe, she thought as she took the clay bottle from her pocket once more, she could do some research while Dipper was busy being a dork for her. While giving the blue liquid a sniff, she glanced over at the couple and she saw Pacifica staring apprehensively at her, slowly shaking her head and mouthing ‘ don’t you dare ’.

Grinning madly, Mabel dipped her pinky finger into the liquid, feeling its cool mist-like texture against her skin and licked it. It was thicker against her tongue than she thought it would be and didn’t taste half bad either. In fact, it had some mildly sweet undertones that went along well with the dominant flavor that she would have described as overwhelmingly refreshing.

“Mabel,” Pacifica cried with wide eyes as she stomped over to her, “Why would you do that?”

Mabel blinked once, twice, then three times and nothing happened. She still felt perfectly fine and if anything she really wanted to finish off the bottle of unknown liquid since it was actually really quite delicious. “I feel great Paz, you worry too much.” Then without any hesitation she said, “Bottoms up,” and finished the whole thing in one gulp.

The blonde covered her hands with her mouth and whispered, “What is wrong with you?”

She glanced at the empty bottle in her hand, then down at her body, then back to the bottle. “Hm, I don’t feel any different.”

Her gaze moved to the Dipper, a half dozen or so paces away and thoroughly engrossed in his work, and excitement tugged her lips upwards as she thought about running over to him and telling him what she’d just done because she knew the look on his face would be priceless. She got to her feet and lifted her foot with the intent of traveling to him but the next thing Mabel knew, there was a puff of mist and she was standing directly next to Dipper without taking a step at all.

“Oh my gosh it’s a magic potion.” Mabel laughed, bringing her hand down on Dipper’s head.

Her brother screamed and jumped to his feet, clearly startled by the fact that his sister had just teleported in front of him. “You just drank it without checking it first?” He asked her incredulously as he picked his notebook back up.

“Yeah look, I drank this magic kool aid and now I can poof around wherever I want.” She explained, waving the empty clay bottle in front of his face. “Up, up and away.” Mabel shouted, raising her fists into the air and teleporting in a cloud of fog back to Pacifica.

Anxiously, Pacifica’s gaze flickered between the girl and the cauldron. “Well duh, but how do you feel, Mabel?”

“Great.” She sang.

The blonde was unconvinced by this and brought a hand to her forehead and studied her face for any signs of illness or injury. When she found none, she relaxed only a fraction but did stop looking at Mabel like she was about to spontaneously combust.

Dipper crouched down and looked back at the Journal 2 page still open to Ford’s entry on the caves and eagerly stated, “Huh, the teleportation potion. Ford said there were a lot of them around in here and that’s why he had enough to be able to reverse engineer it. Apparently it’ll wear off in a few minutes.” 

“So you’re saying we can dig more up.” Mabel bubbled.

“Or,” Pacifica butt in, “we can leave the ancient and probably fragile things that don’t belong to us alone.”

Dipper smiled at his sister, “Man, now I wish you would’ve saved some of it for me so I could see what it’s like to teleport. Although Paz is right now that I think about it, it probably would’ve been better to have left it where it was.”

“Too bad, I drank it all. And way to go Mr. Smarty pants. So what is in this delectable drink if I may ask?” Mabel prodded, teleporting in a cloud back to her brother’s side.

He read off from the journal, “Uh, well after a lot of trial and error, Grunkle Ford found the measurements have to be precisely measured out and put into the cauldron in a specific order and after a certain amount of time and-” 

“Bor-ing, skip to the ingredients.” Mabel complained. Huh, if potion brewing was going to be that science-y and math heavy then maybe it wasn’t what she needed in here after all. But if it could be the key to protecting her family, then did she really have a choice?

Dipper traced his finger further down the page. “Ok ok, here we go. Ingredients: Water Elemental water, Plaidipus pelt, and water collected from the footprint of a Hidebehind… That’s oddly specific.” He scratched his head and eyed his twin. “Oh, speaking of which, I think I’ve got the beginnings of an alphabet working. It’s not exact but I think it’ll be enough for now.” 

He showed them both the work he had done in his notebook so far, breaking down the symbols and matching their parts to different letters. “See, I noticed the word ‘water’ was used by Ford a lot when describing the ingredients so I looked for a symbol that shows up often under the right column’s paragraph with the wave picture, because y’know. And because water is essential to life, it would make sense for this alien language to have a word for it. Once I found it, I started looking for the symbol for water’s base parts in other words and went from there. So now we got part of an alphabet.”

Mabel sharply inhaled as her eyes widened. “Oh Dipper, you’re a genius. I can actually translate the runes I draw for spellcasting with this. I’ll be able to read the language of Axolotl's magic.” She slapped her forehead at the implication, feeling delighted. “Only oracles have been taught that language. Wait- only oracles…” Her brain crackled with electricity as a lightbulb went off in her head and she dropped her jaw at the conclusion her mind came to. “Modoc was an oracle.”

Dipper’s jaw went slack and he flipped to a new page in his journal and his fingers flew as he desperately tried to write down everything Mabel had said. His sister laughed, “I guess I should’ve known when I read that he had made a prophecy. But woah, a human oracle, that’s like- that’s crazy. If only Katee were here to see this.” Mabel had liked to think she was the only human to have ever learned Axolotl magic since they were so rare in the Multiverse. Not only was she dead wrong, but there had been a human oracle right here at home in Gravity Falls at some point in history. While this did make her feel a little less special, it was just too cool of a discovery to not be excited over.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Mabel, but I’m happy it makes you happy.” Pacifica shrugged as she munched on some chipackers while she leaned back against Dipper’s backpack.

Once the boy had finished transcribing his sister’s words he took in a big breath and clapped his hands together, “Okay so here’s the plan. Mabel, I think it would be best to start at the bottom of the left column since you think it’s related to spellcasting. Since you’re probably familiar with what’s written there, you can verify that we’re translating correctly.”

Mabel gave him a thumbs up before teleporting to multiple places around the room for extra effect and landing right back where she started. Dipper gave her a good-natured eye roll, to which she responded as she sat beside him, “What? I only got five minutes with this power and I’m gonna put it to good use. Now get to translating bro, do your job as the resident dork on the team.”

With a laugh, Dipper saluted his sister and got right to work figuring out the true meaning to the paragraph next to the hieroglyph of the bandaged hand. The minutes ticked on with Pacifica’s interest waning after every passing moment. It had been fun at first when the prospect of discovery was fresh on her mind but it had grown stale, kinda like the chipackers she was eating by the light of the lantern. She tried pulling out her phone to pass the time at one point, but got nowhere since there was no reception so deep in the earth. The fifteen year old was half asleep by the time the twins’ excited cries startled her to her senses. It had appeared that Mabel had been busy drawing a variety of scenes around her in the sand while Dipper did most of the work but when she opened her eyes again, Pacifica saw that the sweater wearing girl was reading the text on the notebook Dipper had translated.

She read with a thrilled tone, “The Healing spell, heals any minor to moderate injury of the touched spot on another person. A subset of the Plant Spell and the second most difficult of the six spells to master. The words drawn in the air from bottom to top are as follows: heal, nurture, cure. The verbal component is as follows: Axolotl, aid this growth. It is important to remember that since this spell is a subset of the plant spell, the verbal components are the same.”

Mabel grinned from ear to ear at her brother, who was looking equally delighted as she and the two shared a high five together. Dipper cheered, “Haha that’s amazing, we’re doing some real scientific discovery right here, Mabel.” 

The girl was just as excited as her twin, her mind cherishing the new information. Now whenever she cast a Healing Spell for the rest of her life, she would know exactly what the gibberish she was saying and symbols she drew actually meant and that was pretty cool to her. Not to mention, her curiosity was piqued at the mention of a sixth spell and she could hardly sit still. Katee had never mentioned a sixth spell and she could only imagine the look on the dino’s face if she ever got the chance to tell her about what she had learned here today. “Oh, oh, do the eye spell next, do the eye. It’s weird and I wanna know what’s up with it.”

With a nerdy grin, he nodded, “Ok yeah I’ll do that one next. I think I got the hang of this now so it’ll go waaay faster.” His eyes went to the blurb of text at the top left of the cave wall and began the translation process right away.

Pacifica sat up against the backpack and ran her fingers through her platinum blonde hair as she inquired, “So can you hypothetically read the runes on your bells now too?”

“Gasp!” Mabel said aloud, bringing her hands to her cheeks. “I didn’t even think of that. Yo Dipper, when you’re done with that we gotta do my bells. Oh, oh, and the cauldron too.” She took her handbell from her pocket and traced the tiny runes circling its top with her finger, eager to find their meaning. The Oracle had translated the meaning behind her bells before but she hated to admit that she had forgotten the words. But it wasn’t going to stay that way for long, it seemed.

“Hang on Mabel, I’m figuring out something big here.” Dipper mumbled distractedly.

Pacifica had to admit, she was still feeling a little lost in all this magic talk Dipper and Mabel were going on about but it seemed to make them happy so she figured she would let them continue to ramble to each other. It looked like what they were going over now was just a rehash of what Mabel had chatted about on the way up to this cave in the first place but just in an ancient alien language, so there was no need to stick around until they got to the potions section. After slipping her flashlight back into Dipper’s bag, her focus returned to the arrow she had been holding onto after all this time. Maybe it was time she made herself useful, she thought as she stood and began to thoroughly comb every square inch of the room for any signs of weaponry that could be a match to the projectile she held in her hands.

“Watcha doin’?” Mabel inquired as she limped up to her.

“Trying to find more arrows.” Pacifica responded. “I figured I wasn’t much help eating all our food and napping.”

The brunette smirked, “Yeah that’s true. Well I’m here to help scan the floor while Dipper does his thing. I’m a legendary seashell finder at the beach so this should be a breeze.”

Once the girls had made it a considerable distance away from Dipper, the cap wearing teen made his final pen stroke on the paper and cheerfully articulated, “And done. Get over here, Mabel.”

Mabel didn’t need to be told twice, she was right there with him in an instant and ready to figure out what was up with the mysterious sixth spell. Her heart picked up its pace in her chest as she lifted the notebook into her arms and read, “The Prophecy Spell gives the caster a vision of the future and a sixth sense for a space of time. The sixth spell is the most sacred of all and not spoken of outside of holy places. Likewise, it is the most difficult to cast, requiring a near oracle level of skill. The runes and words must be repeated six times. The words drawn in the air from bottom to top are as follows: crafts, knowledge, learning. The verbal component is as follows: Axolotl, help me know.”

She breathed out softly, soaking up the information she had just read. That was it, that was the key right there. Her visions, her anxiety, Jheselbraum’s prophecy, surely she could have all the answers if she just cast that spell. It could give her the leg up on Bill she had come here for and there would be no gross potion-y calculations necessary. It seemed as though she had a large task ahead of her though, she would need to really step up to have the power to cast an oracle level spell. But hey, casting difficult magic against impossible odds had never stopped her before so why would it now? In her mind, it sure beat basically doing homework to save the world.

“That’s incredible. Surely that could be useful for something, right?” Dipper inquired of his sister.

She nodded sincerely. “I think so, Dipper. This is something big.”

Mabel rang her handbell and raised her hand to begin drawing the symbols when Pacifica called, “Woah, hey guys? There’s a whole other room in here,” from over her shoulder as she stood near a crack in the far side of the room.

“Oh no way, really?” Dipper gushed, quickly closing his book and scooping Journal 2 up in his hands. “Hang on, I'll be there in just a second.” He told her as he put the books in his bag and took several photos of the text on the wall to finish deciphering later.

Mabel hesitated with her hands in the air and looked from the runes on the cavern to her brother and good friend on the other side and made her decision. She put her bell away since she supposed she could always try to cast the spell later, probably tonight when she could be somewhere more cozy and quiet than a cold, moist cave. After brushing the sand off her legs, she plucked the lantern from the floor and jogged over to see what all the fuss was about. Dipper was shimmying through the wet crevice, smoothed down and eroded away by time that was just big enough to let him through and once he was on the other side, Pacifica handed him his bag through the opening and also crammed herself through with a grimace. Then it was Mabel’s turn and she slid across the rockface, feeling her sweater and hair soak with cold cave water that made a shiver go through her body. 

Under the light of the lantern, they discovered the room they were in was much smaller than the first and roughly the size of a bedroom and the floor in here was also smoothed over with hand laid sand. More writing covered every square inch of the tall walls as far up as a human could write and beyond it, the room continued upwards like a church steeple for dozens more feet. Many arrowheads sat dotted around on the ground and when compared with the one Pacifica held, they were found to be an exact match, even down to the color. Another long gone campfire sat in the center of the room with more pottery in various states of disarray lined up along one wall. The remains of an animal hide bed sat in one corner and curiously enough, an ornately decorated pink and white bow which was snapped in half sat gingerly atop the decayed remains of the bedding, along with an empty rotted quiver. At the head of the bed was a boulder no one man could ever lift and a rope was tied tightly around it, diving swiftly into the ground.

Dipper was busy snapping pictures of everything he saw while Pacifica stated to the two of them, “Well it looks like we found who our arrow belongs to,” and she dropped the arrow onto the sand next to the other arrowheads.

Mabel nodded in agreement as she approached the broken weapon on the ground. Upon closer inspection, she saw that it was covered in runes just like her knife was. “This bow is gorgeous. It’s a real shame it’s broken though.” The girl took a curious step closer to the bow and kneeled down beside it to brush her fingers against the expert craftsmanship of one of the limbs.

In the next instant, a skeletal hand burst from the earth and wrapped its mummified fingers around Mabel’s wrist and grabbed ahold of her so tightly it was bound to leave a mark. With a grimace, Mabel pulled away, hard, but all she did was aid the mysterious undead with its task of ripping itself free from the ground and as sand flew, the humanoid was freed from its tomb. Seeing that her first plan didn’t work out like she wanted it to, Mabel drew her knife and sliced clean through the shriveled arm holding her hostage at the elbow and it fell to the floor, dead for a second time. 

“Ah! Zombie!” Dipper yelled as Pacifica screamed a cry of terror and glued herself to his side.

Mabel backed up several steps with her weapon outstretched in front of her and only then did the trio get a good look at the newcomer as he straightened himself upright and gave them a smile. The mummy was clothed in a tattered, blood stained deerskin shirt and pants with a shimmering, mud caked blue and pink blanket that hung over his shoulders that was full of holes. Greyed braided hair hung down to his waist and an open topped, fur headdress with a faded, wooden front piece depicting an angular face sat on his head. Shuffling towards them in woven reed shoes that came apart with each step, his smile widened. He was eerie to look at in the light with leathery skin and sunken in cheeks with cracked lips that revealed yellowed teeth underneath. But what made the undead that came towards them even scarier was the thick rope that was tied around his neck to the boulder at the head of the bed and his empty eye sockets that emitted a toxic, yellow glow.

“Ah good ol’ Shooting Star, Pine Tree, and Llama. Long time, no see! Haha get it?” He laughed, pointing to his empty glowing eye sockets.

“No, it’s a Zom-Bill!” Mabel exclaimed as the shadows under her eyes darkened.

 “...In Modoc’s body?” Dipper questioned.

“That’s right! And hey, I hate to say it but that pun ain’t as original as you think, Shooting Star.” Bill cackled, taking another step closer.

Suddenly Mabel was grabbed by her collar and she cried a small yelp as she was yanked back by Dipper. He held out his arms protectively in front of the girls and hissed, “What do you want, man?” His voice acidic and his jaw squared.

The demon bent down and snatched up his arm from the sand and then snapped it back into place at the elbow. He completely ignored Dipper’s question, chittering, “That was a nice, clean slice if I do say so myself. If this heap of jerky was alive, that’d be sure to be real painful.”

Then there was a rock flying through the air, one that hit the undead right on his head and knocked his headdress loose and exposed his shriveled brain inside as it sent a terrible cracking noise echoing around the room. Pacifica picked up another projectile, eager and ready to attack with an inferno in her watery eyes despite her quivering form.

Bill didn’t even seem to register that his skull had been cracked by the rock and instead he just rubbed his hands together and snorted, “Well I have to say I’m impressed you even managed to hit me with how much you’re shakin’, Paz.” Then he growled in a much darker tone, one that chilled the trio to their very core, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you cost me.”

“Don’t. Call. Me. That.” The blonde seethed, stepping around Dipper to stare him down.

“Well alrighty then, Llama.” He shrugged giddily. Pacifica’s scowl only deepened.

The demon cocked his head to one side like a curious bird of prey and began to turn away from the trio before swiveling right back around and charging the girl. Pacifica jumped and scrambled a couple of self-preserving steps backwards as Mabel and Dipper simultaneously rushed forwards, the girl with her knife and the boy with his raised fists. An all out brawl was only prevented by the thick rope still attached to the mummy’s neck, which stopped Bill just out of arm’s reach in front of the twins. The cord’s little slack was quickly used up and the demon’s own momentum worked against him as he was abruptly stopped.

“Enough with your stupid quips Bill, they’re not even that funny. And why were you watching us fight the Eye Stealer?” Mabel fumed.

“Oh-ho you could feel me? So your magic is still useful after all?” Bill sneered.

“Yeah, tell us why you’re here before we shatter your skull with a three part harmony.” Dipper carped, ready to sing Cipher back to the Nightmare Realm at a moment’s notice.

Cipher tugged irritatedly at the rope around his neck and responded nonchalantly, “Hey you drive a hard bargain Pine Tree so fine, I’ll do as you wish.” He cleared his cracked throat, expelling a cloud of dust into the air. “Well if I were you I’d stop digging unless you wanna end up like this good ol’ ‘wise guy’.” Bill chirped, adding quotations with his fingers to the words. “If he was so wise he wouldn’t have burned our portal to the ground in the first place. But now look at him, he’s dead and doesn’t even have any eyes.”

“We’re not afraid of you. We stopped you once and we’ll do it again.” Dipper retorted determinedly even though his heart was racing faster than a jet engine.

With a smirk, the demon said sarcastically, “Oh no, I’m sooo scared right now Pine Tree, you have no idea. You’re plucky, I’ll give you guys that. But you’re gonna need more than naive enthusiasm if you wanna stop me. No amount of Axy’s sad magic can stall what I’ve got planned. I mean really Shooting Star, do you actually think you can just wave your hands in the air, say ‘Aucwcmw, hbza ax vnlk’, and know how this story ends? If you really wanted to see the future, I could help you out.” He reached out his skeletal hand, urging Mabel to take it.

“Take that .” Pacifica yelled and another jagged chunk of the earth went hurling towards Bill. The demon simply caught it and proceeded to toss it up in the air before grabbing it again and twirling it around in his hands.

“Hey, rude!” The Demon King complained, doing his best to scowl with salt dried facial muscles.

“Is that really all you got? Offering deals with people that’ll never take them?” Mabel questioned bitterly as she consciously fought to keep her breathing and pulse at a regular level.

Bill shrugged, “Eh, well I tried,” and Pacifica only realized her mistake a little too late as the demon used the stone to cut straight through his binding all in one fluid motion.

Determined to keep her family safe, Mabel jumped in front of the couple with her dagger as the demon dashed towards them. He raised his primitive weapon above his head to smash the brunette’s skull in but because of his old joints, Mabel was quicker. She slashed through his brittle arm at the shoulder and kicked him with all her might with her black combat boots, sending his thin and dehydrated body sprawling onto the floor.

“Mabel, the harmony.” Dipper urged her desperately as he took her hand. 

“Oh right.” She remembered. “Dipper, you go low. Paz, go high. I’ll sing the middle.” Mabel started them off and sang a note low in her vocal range so Dipper would be able to harmonize with his falsetto. Suddenly Pacifica found herself to once again be grateful for all the years spent competing in beauty pageants since she immediately knew what to sing to compliment Mabel’s chosen frequency. Then Dipper joined in, singing just well enough for the three to harmonize together.

“Ah, no!” Bill grimaced, ripping his ears off and hunching over in pain. But it was too late for him and his head began to vibrate and shake to dangerous levels before it completely exploded and bathed the room in brain dust.

“Oh, gross.” Dipper gagged, covering his nose and mouth while he backed away and tried not to breathe in the powdered organ as it settled to the floor.

“Two days… In a row.” Pacifica seethed, also covering the lower half of her face as she ran for the crack in the wall to exit the room. 

“It’s okay, I think I took the brunt of it.” Mabel reassured her companions as she dusted skull fragments and chunks of hair off her skirt. But when she turned around, she discovered that Dipper and Pacifica had left the room completely and were vigorously trying to shake themselves free of any remaining bits of head still stuck to them with looks of disgust on their faces.

Curiously, the girl turned back to the headless remains of the mummy and the sparkling of his cloak caught her eye. She had seen that material somewhere before, she was sure of it. “Woah, is that unicorn hair?” She coughed, lifting the blanket off the corpse. After a couple of good strong shakes, a lot of the sand and dirt came loose from the fibers and she clicked her tongue. “Yep, that’s unicorn hair alright.” Something like this was too valuable and too rare to pass up on and just leave here, Mabel reasoned, because unicorn hair was insanely useful when it came to protecting yourself from Bill’s magic. So she slung the clothing over her shoulder, sheathed her knife and picked up the lantern, and joined her loved ones back in the main room with the cauldron.

“...Mabel, what is that?” Dipper asked her apprehensively, his voice still shaking slightly from his encounter with the demon.

“It’s a unicorn hair cloak, Dipper. Isn’t it cool?”

“Um yeah, but Mabel you can’t take that.” Dipper responded while he rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Oh says Mr. ‘I’ve found lots of arrowheads out here’? Plus, it’s not like he’s using it. It’ll be way more useful to me.” She argued.

Dipper stammered, “H-hey, I never said I took them all, only the ones I found on the property around the Mystery Shack. I’ve read the law.”

Pacifica chimed in kindly as the color slowly returned to her skin, “Mabel, there’s a difference between arrowheads and archeological clothing found in an ancient cave, though. You see that, right?”

Mabel waved her worry away. “Oh psshaw, if I’m not supposed to have this, may the Axolotl himself strike me down. Hey, let’s take the cauldron while we’re at it. I know you want to bro-bro, for science.”

A tiny conflicted frown appeared on Dipper’s face and Mabel grinned a little because she knew she was beginning to convince him. “Here Dip, look at it this way: this stuff is here for people with Axolotl magic to use and I got just that. I really don’t think Modoc would have an issue with us taking these things, it’s for the greater good. Hell, we just fought his corpse possessed by Bill, we need these things.”

Her brother sighed and hung his head defeatedly before straightening back up and striding over to the cauldron. “I guess you’re right. Hey Paz, can you help me lift this thing?”

Pacifica cringed, “I don’t know guys, my parents had tons of old things in the manor that should’ve been in a museum. I’m not a Northwest anymore, I don’t think I can walk out of here with anything in good conscience.”

The sweater-wearing girl trotted to the other side of the hefty ceramic pot and cooed, “That’s ok Paz, just lead us outta here with the flashlight.”

“Yeah I’m on it.” She smiled.

After some minutes spent carrying the cauldron through the cave, Dipper broke the silence. “Well now we know for certain that Bill’s got something going on.”

“Ugh, what a big fat stinking jerk. Why can’t our lives just be normal?” Pacifica huffed, kicking a puddle for good measure.

“Tell me about it. I really gotta learn magic and these potions now. And I have to translate the rest of the writing on the walls.” Dipper said with tired determination.

“Hey see bro-bro? I told you borrowing this cauldron was gonna be useful.” Mabel chirped. “Just don’t kill yourself or blow up the house while you’re making superpower stew.” 

“Yeah yeah, I got it, Mabel.” Dipper half-smiled. 

“Ok but seriously on like the emotional side of things, how’s everybody holding up after that horror we just witnessed?” Pacifica asked with concern as she daintily hopped from one rock to another. “I’ll go first and I admit, I’m kinda freaking out.” She said much more softly but then screamed, “But I’m so angry.” 

Dipper informed the girls, “That makes two of us, Paz. I was decently scared earlier but I think I’m ok now.”

“Hey remember guys, it’s okay to be scared. You can’t be courageous without it.” Mabel chimed in. “Oh and my heart is all good, by the way.”

Pacifica smiled a tiny bit as she lit the path for her friends and said, “Thanks for the wisdom, Mabel.” She laughed modestly and continued, “I guess when you’ve fought Bill for real, him appearing in a zombie probably isn’t all that scary, huh?”

“Oh no I was totally scared,” she corrected while she shifted the weight of the cauldron in her hands, “but you are kinda right.”

“Well you know what? I say that as long as we have each other we’ll be alright.” Dipper stated, throwing some wisdom of his own into the conversation.

The blonde’s expression brightened when she heard her boyfriend’s comfort and she happily agreed, “Yeah.”

“Yeah.” Mabel said distractedly, her mind on the Prophecy Spell as she worried for her loved ones.

Despite being all downhill, the trek home took just as long as the hike up to the cave because of the added task of carrying a stone cauldron down a mountain. It was dark by the time they reached the shack and the runed ceramic pot was placed on the stovetop for safekeeping. The second they had successfully secured the fragile thing in the kitchen, Pacifica called dibs on the upstairs shower while Dipper took the full bath that had been scratched to bits by the Eye Stealer the day before on the ground floor. Luckily, the shower in that room seemed to still more or less work. Seeing that she was now alone, Mabel figured now was as good a time as any to finally try her luck casting the Prophecy spell. 

Mabel sat cross legged in the still and quiet living room with her handbell in one hand, clearing her mind and taking a few deep breaths. Getting this spell down meant she could know precisely what she needed to do to keep her family together, so this was serious business. She rang her bell and drew the three runes in the air, the ones she now knew translated to crafts, knowledge, and learning as she whispered, “Aucwcmw, hbza ax vnlk.” Well that was one down and five to go. The symbols were drawn once more and she repeated, “Aucwcmw, hbza ax vnlk.” Then she did it again, and again, and again, and then for the final time, her voice gaining in intensity each time as she poured her all into the spell. She remembered the movie nights spent with the whole family just weeks ago, welcoming the warm and comfortable emotions into her chest. The time she spent with her parents when they visited came to her mind and she embraced the memory. Then the pillow fight she had started with Dipper and Pacifica just yesterday floated to her consciousness and laughter freely formed in her throat.

She set her hands down and opened her eyes, waiting and listening for something to happen. Patting herself down, nothing felt any different, not even in her head. After several minutes of sitting in silence, nothing had changed and Mabel climbed to her feet with a sigh as her sore muscles groaned. Well, it seemed like the first attempt was a bust, she thought with slight disappointment. But that was okay, this was going to be a hard spell to cast. It just would’ve been nice if she could have been able to at least try and make sense of her nightmares. But nothing was going to stop her because she was determined, especially since Bill had specifically told her it was useless. As the fifteen year old put her bell back in her pocket, she climbed the stairs to the attic, hoping to bother Pacifica enough through the door to get to shower before she used up all the hot water.

Chapter Text

Things had been going splendidly for Stan and Ford until about five minutes ago. One second they were trekking along to a portal they could use to return to Dimension 52, taking in the sunshine and fresh forest air, and the next they had been chased half way up a tree and were frantically dodging Katee’s snapping jaws from below since she had apparently randomly decided to take a trip to crazy town just hours from their village destination. 

“Katee, you have to stop that right this instant. It’s us, it’s Stanley and Stanford. We’re your friends.” Ford cried as his foot slipped in his scramble to climb higher and he nearly lost it to the dino’s jaws.

Stan grabbed his twin by the collar and pulled him back onto the branch and barked, “Yeah real helpful Sixer, I’m sure giving her commands like a dog oughta get to her.” He turned to Katee, who was backing up to run and jump at them once more and yelled, “Hey Katee, sit and stay.”

The paladin gave no indication of having understood their commands and only hissed before she charged again.

“Oh great, here she comes again.” Stan winced anxiously and pulled himself higher, getting his left arm around a thin branch. It snapped under his weight and the man in the hideous Hawaiian shirt saw his life flash before his eyes as gravity did its job and pulled him to the earth. It was only because Ford wrapped his upper body around the lower, thicker branch and caught him in his legs that Stan didn’t become lunch. The broken tree limb hit the ground and was swiftly reduced to wood chips by Katee’s teeth as she growled and spat.

“Damn, you got some serious core strength Ford.” Stan complimented as he grabbed ahold of the branch keeping both of them safe and climbed atop it.

“I’m aware.” Ford responded as he stood up on the bough once more, scowling down at the dino.

“Awright, you don’t gotta be so smug about it.” He snorted, crossing his arms.

Ford smirked and turned his attention back to their current predicament. “I wonder if she’ll come around again anytime soon,” he thought aloud as her lips brushed against the sole of his shoe at the peak of her leap.

“Well, I ain’t sticking around down here to find out with ya.” Stan told him as he grabbed another thicker overhead branch this time and tried to pull himself higher.

In his valiant attempt at a pull up, his backpack caught on another branch and knocked Mabel’s crossbow loose from its side. Ford tried to catch it and nearly slipped in the process and only saved himself just in time by clinging to the trunk. The baby blue and bubblegum pink weapon clattered to the ground and Katee eyed it hungrily like it was a helpless small animal. With a roar, she raced towards it but interestingly enough, stopped at the last second and sniffed it curiously. With a head tilt, she pawed at the stock and tried to take a bite from it but stopped and spat it out once she realized this wasn’t food either. Now thoroughly intrigued, she scrutinized it under her gaze and faint recognition appeared on her face. Katee stood upright as the sharpness returned to her eye and she cradled her head in her arm.

“Oh ow… Oh that hurts.” She moaned as she fell backwards onto her bottom.

The dino slowly looked around as to not aggravate her splitting headache and gasped when she saw the twins up the tree. She picked the bark from between her teeth and was able to put two and two together rather easily. “Oh what’d I do? Are you guys okay?”

“Yeah no thanks to you.” Stan shot irritatedly from where he hugged the tree two stories in the air.

“I don’t think it’s her fault, Stanley.” Ford sighed as he hopped onto the ground. He steadied himself against the trunk with his arms and allowed Stan to step onto his shoulders as he climbed down as well.

Once he was back on the earth once more, Stan pinched the bridge of his nose and replied, “I guess you’re right. Sorry for bein’ snappy, I haven’t exactly been sleepin’ well.”

“Neither have I.” Ford grimaced as anxiety bubbled in his gut. “Not since we left the caves.” 

That much was true, neither of the men had been able to get a full night of sleep since they had exited the Blind Caverns. Whatever sleeping problems Ford had been having before had only been exacerbated by the caves, with both him and Stan waking up several times in the night every time they laid down to rest and often taking hours to fall asleep once more. It was as if their brains had simply turned against them and refused them more than a little shuteye each day. It made Ford irrationally anxious as memories of fighting to stay awake for days on end lest his very body become under the influence of Cipher. The signs of not enough sleep like the grogginess, brain fog, fatigue, and headaches that plagued them were all too familiar to him and it made him feel twitchier than a hare in a snake den.

Stan squeezed his brother’s shoulder comfortingly, well aware of what their sleeping situation reminded him of. Ford offered a tiny grateful smile in response and it made something longing rise up in Stan’s chest. It was because he wanted to continue to be there for his twin, he knew, and never be separated from him. They had spent too much time apart but that was never going to happen again if he had anything to say about it.

“No, I'm sorry. Really, I am.” Katee whimpered.

Stan sauntered over to her and had to lift his hand over his head to pat her shoulder. “I know ya are so don’t sweat it, kid.”

Katee suddenly laughed loudly at his words, doing a complete one eighty of her mood in only a second, and Stan couldn’t for the life of him figure out what had been so funny about what he’d said so he picked the crossbow up off the floor and asked, “What? What’d I say?”

To make things even worse, it seemed like Ford had finally understood the humor in his words too and he softly chuckled as he shook his head and made the executive decision to get the group going once more since he started walking. 

“No seriously, what is it?” Stan questioned, feeling rather dumb as he followed his brother.

“How old do you think I am, Stan?” Katee questioned him as she too continued onward beside him.

Well up until this point Stan had thought she looked decently young, maybe in her early to mid thirties if he was going off of human aging. But now he wasn’t so sure and he shrugged, “I dunno, but I’m at least smart enough to know if a lady asks you that question, you better not answer. I’ve been slapped enough times to get that through my head.”

Ford seemed to empathetically wince at his brother’s last sentence and Stan was comforted by it in a way. But nevermind that, his failed relationships didn’t matter in the moment anyway and he shrugged nonchalantly at his twin’s offered comfort. Whatever, what would he know about romance? Stan thought.

“Oh yikes,” Katee said bluntly, “well I’m actually four hundred and five years old. So uh, it was just ironic that you called me ‘kid’ is all. But now since I’ve just explained the joke it’s lost some of its humor…” She trailed off, biting her lip.

Stan breathed out a soft, hearty laugh. “But you don’t look a day over three hundred.” He said while giving her finger guns.

The paladin gave him a toothy grin and lightly punched him in the arm. “Oh you don’t really mean that.”

“I really do.” Stan smiled, biting back a yelp of pain because dang she punched hard.

Ford outwardly groaned. Leave it up to his brother to manage to flirt with literally everyone they ever met, his friends included. Fortunately for him, it seemed as though Stan wasn’t choosing to keep it up, at least for now. So he was able to fall back into comfortable conversation with the duo as they continued the final hours of their journey.

“Why can’t the Oracle install an escalator or something?” Stan wheezed as he fell to his knees on the temple patio atop the valley peak in Dimension 52.

“I get it, every time I climb these steps I’m reminded that I need to workout more.” Katee panted, putting her hand on her knee as she caught her breath beside Stan.

Ford waltzed past both his friend and brother with ease, taking in the still warm evening air and the sunset that made the sky look like it was on fire with all the cloud cover. It was the type of weather that made him think they may get rained on in the middle of the night with the flaming rays of the sun peeking through the thick, black clouds. The breezy air definitely smelled distinctly of moisture and had a pre-storm quality to it, one that made Stan’s joints complain. Or maybe it was just their hike, or his lack of sleep, he couldn’t really tell. He and Katee trudged after Ford, still breathing heavily as he came to his twin’s side once again.

“Y’know you can follow my exercise routine if you’d like.” Ford told him easily.

“Eh, pass.” He dismissed with a wave. “Putting myself in more pain sounds like a great time.” He said sarcastically.

His brother furrowed his brows slightly, just like he always did when he thought Stan had said something wrong and was about to correct him on it. He began, “Well just like any habit, exercising can be difficult to get the hang of at first. But there are many benefits to working your body. First off, intense physical activity releases endorphins, as well as dopamine, which can improve mood and make your workout session enjoyable. Secondly, when you…”

Oh boy, yep he was getting an earful alright, Stan laughed softly to himself as he let his brother blabber on just like he would when they were kids. He would often ask a simple question, whether it be about homework or just life in general, and usually get an essay in response and it looked like Ford hadn’t changed one bit in that regard. It was even better when Stan knowingly said something incorrect and got to watch Ford desperately try to correct him as he doubled down. The time in the fourth grade that he had insisted bats were bugs came to mind and it made him internally chuckle. He had gotten his brother to rant about taxonomy for half an hour before he finally gave up on the charade and let Ford know he was messing with him the whole time. While he had been proud of his accomplishment, Ford had not and refused to talk to him for an entire hour before Stan finally apologized. It made life more fun, he found, when he had a living encyclopedia with him wherever he went. Especially if said encyclopedia just so happened to be your favorite person in the world.

Ford kept on as they entered the front room of the half rebuilt temple, “...as well as lower one’s risk for heart disease and stroke-” 

Stan tried to listen to his brother’s chatting but then there was the sound of footsteps and the tapping of a cane as the Oracle came limping from the hallway and into the room, which finally shut Ford up. She sang, “Ah so you’ve returned, very good.” She took a few careful steps towards them and rested the back of her hand against Katee’s snout. “Katee, I sense a great curse has afflicted your mind.” 

The dinosaur sniffed wetly and flung her arms around the woman’s shoulders, breaking down into tears. “It-it’s terrible, Jess. I s-still hear the voices.”

The Oracle hugged her back in a motherly fashion, rubbing her back and she cooed, “Oh, it’s okay. We’ll restore your mind back to its proper place in no time.” Her five functioning eyes flickered to the brothers and she told them, “And I’ll do the same for you two as well. You may finally get some good rest tonight.”

Stan audibly sighed. “Oh gee, thanks. You hear that, Sixer? Finally we’re gonna be able to sleep again.”

His brother nodded and gratefully said to Jheselbraum, “We’re in your debt.”

She ended her embrace with the dino and responded, “Not at all, Stanford,” and motioned for them all to follow with her good arm and she began back into the hall leading deeper into the temple. Katee wiped her eyes and cleared her throat, doing her best to compose herself as she followed along with the twins. 

Ford spoke up, sounding rather urgent, “Yes, thank you for your hospitality Jess but Stan and I are in need of more information on the Blind Caverns if we are ever going to be able to traverse them. It was a miracle we made it out alive and with Katee intact. So I was wondering if you would grant us access to the library.”

Jess’s eyes narrowed in thought and she silkily said, “I would love to Ford, but the majority of it was sadly burned in the fire. I haven’t had the proper time to sift through everything and find out what has survived yet.” There was a sadness behind her eyes when she offered her explanation but she remained dignified despite it.

Ford seemed to shrink at the revelation and a downhearted look appeared in his face. “Oh.” He whispered softly. 

Stan knew for a fact that his brother was deeply upset by the notion of knowledge of any kind being lost, let alone an entire library’s worth of information. That would be like the rats chewing through the extra cash he kept under his mattress back at home, no doubt.

“Man this place had a whole library too? Impressive.” Stan complimented in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Well yes, the Axolotl is a god of knowledge. Or prophecy, it depends on who you ask. But they’re one and the same to me.” Jheselbraum nodded.

She opened the door to what appeared to be an alien kitchen with scorch marks along the far wall. It looked like at one point it had ample cupboard and counter space but half of it had been turned to charcoal. The roof looked like it had taken a fiery beating and was being held up by two wooden support beams placed on either end of the room, making Stan worry that the whole thing was going to come down on him and crush him. An assortment of twisting copper pipes of various sizes ran along the walls and all converged to an oven of some sort as light pink linen curtains fluttered in the open windows and a massive runed, stone cauldron sat on top of a gas burner in the middle of the room. Jheselbraum unravelled a hose from the wall and brought it over to the gigantic ceramic pot and began to fill it with water.

“Please excuse the mess, this building did burn down last month.” Jheselbraum noted.

Katee hopped on top of a nearby counter as Ford began to look through the cupboards and Stan was left standing just past the doorway and feeling quite lost. So he decided to ask, “Uh, what exactly is going on here?”

The Oracle shooed Ford away from the cupboards and instructed him to sit next to Katee as she told him, “I’m very capable of doing this on my own, Ford. But thank you for trying to help.” Then as she hefted a heavy bag of something golden and powdered into her arms, she responded to Stan, “I’m preparing an elixir to dispel demonic curses, or a Restoration Potion if you want to use its proper title. You three desperately need it if the bags under your eyes are anything to go off of.” She scooped a precise amount of the gold dust out of the bag and leveled it off and began to slowly pour it into the cauldron, stirring exactly three times with a gigantic wooden spoon between each addition.

Stan opted to lean against the counter, next to where Ford was sitting by Katee and he tilted his head as he asked, “So whaddya do if you’re in a dimension without those ingredients? Die?”

“Katee? You should know this.” Jess smiled as she stuck a match and lit the gas to the burner.

“Uh, can I pass? Y’know brewing really isn’t my thing.” The paladin said as she scratched at the stump of her left arm at the elbow.

The Oracle smiled softly, “Well, you should still know this. Ford, what about you?” 

The man’s face lit up in the same way it did when he was in school and had been called on by the teacher to answer a question he knew the answer to. “You can use ingredients in the other dimension that are equivalent to the ones here. So instead of using gold for example, any precious metal would work if you just so happened to be in a dimension without it.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Jess beamed as she added in the rest of the gold.

“That sounds terrible, a world without gold. But hey, the more you know.” Stan muttered. Then he smirked at his brother, “Nerd.”

“You were the one who asked, Stan.” Ford said with a smile and an eye roll.

“Yeah and you knew the answer.” 

A moment of silence passed as Jheselbraum finally turned off the water and took a small handful of glowing crystals and tossed them into a mortar and pestle and began to grind them up, which Stan watched with mild curiosity. The fluid way in which she confidently worked her way around the kitchen quite reminded him of his mother, down to the dress, constant smile, and even her soft hum. It made his chest feel ever so slightly tighter than it was before and he had to swallow the lump forming in his throat.

Damn, I’m feeling nostalgic tonight, huh? He thought.

The seven eyed woman poured the pulverized crystal into the big pot all at once and the runes that circled the bottom sprang to life with a soft green glow. “Well now that I’ve got the base going, Katee, why don’t you take Stan and Ford to the library and see what you can find?” The Oracle inquired. “I’ll be a while longer since I’ve got to keep a close eye on this batch until it comes time for it to simmer.”

“On it.” Katee chirped as she hopped off the counter.

“And show them to their room while you’re at it please.” Jess added as she slowly and steadily stirred the elixir counterclockwise.

“Sure thing, Jess.” The dino grinned while she opened the kitchen door.

“Thank you again for your hospitality, Jheselbraum.” Ford told her as he walked backwards out the door.

“It’s not a problem.” She kindly said back.

Once the three of them were back in the hallway, Katee led the brothers back into the front room and down another hallway that abruptly ended only twenty feet later because the rest had been burned to the ground. The passage to the open air was covered by a tarp that hung down from the roof that flittered softly in the wind. She gestured to the door nearest to the hall and told them, “I assume this is the room Jess wants you to stay in, considering it’s the only guest room still intact and untouched. So make yourselves at home I guess, I’ll just wait till you’re settled and we can go to what’s left of the library.”

Ford curtly nodded and opened the scuffed wooden door to reveal a modestly sized bedroom that appeared to have been designed for one person to stay in. It was simply furnished with a desk with a mirror and a wardrobe, along with two pieces of furniture that looked like a cross between a couch and a bed on opposite walls. The only window was shut and covered with more of the same pink curtains and a tapestry depicting the Axolotl in a sea of bubbles hung from the inside of the door. 

“Dibs on the window seat.” Stan called, rushing past his brother into the room and plopping his backpack down on top of the bed underneath the window.

His brother smiled faintly as he watched Stan run into the room and closed the door behind them. He put his heavy pack down at the foot of his bed and gently placed the Quantum Destabilizer on the face of the desk, taking a moment to stare back at his own fatigued expression in the mirror. The man who stared back at him didn’t look any different from the last time he had been here, but boy did he sure feel different. Vaguely, he wondered what Mabel was up to and hoped she was safe.

“So how long are we stayin’ here?” Stan asked as he moved his clothes from his backpack to his bed.

“I’m not sure Stan, as long as it takes us to look through what’s left of the library I suppose.” Ford replied as he set his black trenchcoat down on the back of the desk chair. 

“Ok, then what? Say we don’t find anything here and it’s all just ashes. What’s your plan then?” He prodded as he moved his shirts into the wardrobe.

His brother sat heavily on his bed as he began to dig through his bag for his tools. It had been at least a month since any calibrations had been done on the Quantum Destabilizer and they were long overdue. He figured it would be best to at least get started on them while Stan put his stuff away. “Well, there’s other places we can go looking for knowledge, like the library in Dimension 3-A, although that’s quite risky, and cultist temples. If it really came down to it though, I’m willing to risk self experimentation in the Blind Caverns myself to figure out a path to the Nightmare Realm.” He ran a hand down his face and added, “I surely hope it doesn’t come to that though.”

“Yeah, no thanks,” Stan agreed, “that sounds terrible.”

Ford scowled at his bag as he dug his arm deeper inside. “Where did I put those darn tools?” He muttered and his fingers brushed against something at the very bottom of his bag that was unfamiliar to him. That was odd, he knew the contents of his pack by heart even if he never organized it and the little bag he closed his hand around was definitely not part of its usual contents.

The plastic bag he pulled out was addressed to him in sharpie, with ‘ To Ford -Love Mabel ’ written on the outside. He held it in his hands like it was a precious figurine made of glass and carefully he opened up the bag and emptied the contents into his lap as warmth filled him up. There were several gel pens of differing colors of the rainbow, a bag of DnD & more D dice, two pairs of ear plugs, several tangled up lengths of yarn, and a bag of jelly beans. Everything there made a fondness bloom in his heart and a soft expression crossed his face but something in particular caught his eye, a folded up piece of paper. He picked it up and flattened it out against the bed, leaving behind a dusting of glitter on the sheets, to find a letter written to him with a drawing of Mabel painting his nails in the bottom corner. It read,

Grunkle Ford! I’m going to miss you so so much when you leave tomorrow! So much in fact that I’m writing this note to tell you how much I’ll miss you! I love you tons times one million. Please use this gift bag in emergencies when you feel overwhelmed or miss us. Remember to get all your sleep and make sure you kick Bill’s angle for me. I love you! Xoxoxoxo

• Mabel

He couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped his throat reading Mabel’s pink glitter lettering and needless to say, he was incredibly touched by her thoughtfulness. Seeing her artistic rendering of the two of them in gel pen spending time together tugged at his heartstrings and he suddenly missed her terribly. He was acutely aware of the immense distance between them that spanned dimensions and it was much too far. If only she was there sitting next to him, embroidering a new design on a bandana while he tinkered with the Quantum Destabilizer, just like old times. 

“Whatcha got there, Sixer? Cuz you’re starin’ at it like it’s a puppy.” Stan commented as he hung his coat up in the wardrobe.

“Heh, Mabel’s packed me a care package at the bottom of my bag and I’ve only just now found it.” He said wistfully. 

“Oh shoot, really?” Stan beamed, adoring his great-niece’s sweetness. “Do ya think she’s got one for me too?” He asked as he dug around in his own backpack looking for his gift from Mabel. His hand brushed against something he knew he didn’t pack at the very bottom and an excitement bubbled in his chest as he pulled the bag out.

Just like Ford’s bag, Stan’s was addressed to him in sharpie, stating ‘ To Stan -Love Mabel ’. Through the clear plastic he could see a bag of toffee peanuts, a copy of “Gold Chains for Old Men Magazine”, several photos of Dipper and Mabel and the family, along with a candid picture of him and Ford asleep on the couch that made him laugh. There were also a few copies of his most beloved comic books, which froze him in place as he puzzled to figure out how Mabel could have possibly known he liked the things.

“...What, how’d she know?” He questioned softly as he flipped through the pages of Captain Nazi-Puncher .

“Hm, I might’ve offhandedly mentioned to her that you liked comics at some point.” Ford mused as he came over to sit at his side.

He set the comics back into the bag and took out a folded up piece of paper that smelled strongly of icing. Unfolding it, Stan discovered it to be a note to him handwritten with sparkling pink ink and a drawing of him and Mabel blowing bubbles together. It read,

Grunkle Stan! I know you don’t leave until tomorrow but I miss you already! You’re going to super love the Multiverse, there’s so many more people to swindle. Remember that I love you to Jupiter and back. I packed the things I know you love in here so if you ever miss home, just open up this Mabel made care package. Please babysit Grunkle Ford for me and keep him out of trouble while you guys are away. I love you! Xoxoxoxo

• Mabel

Suddenly it must have gotten really dusty in there or something because his eyes began to water. He slowly set the page down and shuffled through the small collection photographs in his possession once again and grinned at them through his blurry vision, his heart swelling at the thought and care his great-niece put into the bag. 

“That’s cute, she wrote you a note too.” Ford grinned.

“Uh-hu.” He sniffled and wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt. “Damn Ford, I miss her.”

Suddenly there was an arm around his shoulders, Ford’s arm, he recognized. “Me too.” He sighed bittersweetly. “But we’re doing this for her, don’t forget it.”

Stan clapped his brother’s back and stood with popping joints. “Yeah, a real tearjerker she is.” He gave Ford a hand up, which he took, and pointed a thumb towards the door. “Let’s not keep our dino friend waiting anymore, yeah?” He really hadn’t been planning on getting all emotional today but apparently Mabel had other plans. Even though she wasn’t here with him, she still had a way of bringing out the heart that he liked to keep so guarded.

“Good idea.” The sweater wearing man agreed, secretly grateful that Stan had decided to move on from their brief period of being mushy and let them go about their day.

Back in the hallway, Katee was busy talking to someone through her Multipurpose Portaling Device on her wrist and she greeted the twins with a smile. “...Uh huh. Yeah, they’re back. Yeah ok bye.” She hung up by pressing a button on the side with her snout and said, “Sorry, I was just checking up on a colleague. So we’re off to what’s left of the library now, yeah?”

Stan grunted, “If that’s what Sixer wants then yeah,” and nodded his head.

“Please, lead the way Katee.” Ford stated. 

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” She remarked and led them past the tarp and into the most heavily burned part of the building. 

There were no walls standing and no roof over their heads, just the twilight sky and ashes beneath their feet as they were led through what had once been part of the greater temple. It was rather eerie to Stan, it felt like he was somewhere he shouldn’t be. A desolate place that stirred up old fear in the back of his mind that whispered that he was in danger, that this would bring him no good. The long cold charcoal and scent of dirt in the warm air brought him back to thirty five years earlier, hiding out in a nameless abandoned town half burned down in the Nevada desert while he feared for his life after pushing his luck in the wrong Vegas casino. He had laid low in that ghost town that had nothing but bad vibes for two weeks while dangerous men patrolled the highway on the lookout for his car. Running out of food had led him to go exploring in the houses for any non-perishables that could’ve been left behind but all he found was the charred remains of a dog in one living room that he would never forget.

Only then did Stan realize that they had made it to the other side of the ashes once he ran right into another tarp and entered the other side of the hall. That and that Ford had been talking to Katee about something he wasn’t paying any attention to this whole time.

Katee giggled, gesturing to her Multipurpose Portaling Device with her stump, “No, it’s not magic, Ford. I’m sorry but I was messing with you when I told you and Mabel it was magical, I added my own modifications to be able to call people with it.”

Ford blinked in surprise and then barked his own laugh. “Ah well, I wish you would have explained yourself sooner but I have to admit, that is rather humorous.” 

“What’s goin’ on?” Stan piped up, hiding the shaking in his hands by stuffing them in his pockets and making an effort to dispel the bad memories from his head.

Ford glanced back at him and then did a double take and stopped. “Stan, are you alright?”

“Huh, what? Of course I’m alright.” He smoothly lied.

“You look rather pale.” Ford pressed.

“And nauseous.” Katee added.

Stan did his best to smile and responded, “Well yeah I’ve been sleeping like shit, no wonder I look like crap. You two should take a look in the mirror, by the way.”

We got more important things to worry about right now anyhow. He thought to himself.

“Fair point.” Katee shrugged and the group got walking again. “Anyways, I was just showing Ford how I can make calls on my handy dimension hopping gizmo.” Then she snickered, “He thought it was magical.”

“Because you said it was.” Ford retorted, throwing his hands forward.

“For all I know, it could be.” Stan shrugged.

“Thank you, Stanley.” Ford said gratefully.

The relatively untouched portion of hallway came to an end and they entered another room that was expansive and at one point must have been circular in shape with high walls and a domed ceiling but now it was mostly black carbon. One third of the wall remained and a tiny sliver of the domed ceiling still held on, with the tattered remains of a tapestry caked in grey ash clinging to it. The room was littered with rubble from the caved in roof and half burned books and scrolls coated the floor, the parchment fluttering in the nightly breeze among the few remaining and barely recognizable bookshelves. Stan realized there was so much decimated paper loose in the room that he was stepping all over it without even trying. When he picked up a burned scroll, the bottom half crumpled and he unrolled the surviving top half and knit his eyebrows together at the alien runes written on the parchment.

“Ford I’ve just realized, how am I supposed to help you figure this whole ‘fighting demons in the caves’ thing if I can’t read anything here?” Stan asked, looking up at his twin. It was an honest question, one he really didn’t like to be having to ask since it only reminded him how unhelpful he felt.

Well Ford didn’t seem to hear him because he looked utterly miserable as he slowly walked through the room, if Stan could even call it that anymore. His twin knelt down downheartedly and gently picked up a mostly surviving book of some kind and sighed heavily as he hugged it to his chest. “It’s all gone.” He mumbled.

“Yeah, it’s real bad in here.” Katee said softly, her voice thick with sadness.

Wait a minute, he had an idea. “Hey Ford!” Stan called, marching up to him.

His brother did hear him this time and he slowly looked up at him, albeit sorrowfully. 

He crouched down across from him and looked him in the eye. “Sixer, I’m sorry. This must suck, huh?”

“I’ve spent so much time here.” Ford squeaked. “A-after my metal plate was installed, I would spend day after day with Jheselbraum in this library while I healed. Now it’s lost forever.”

Stan gingerly took the book from Ford’s hands and gestured to it while he comforted, “Hey, not all of it is gone.”

Ford sat back on a chunk of collapsed stone ceiling with a gloomy expression, resting his hand against his cheek and smudging it with soot in the process. “I guess so.”

“Here, I’ve got an idea.” Stan chriped, placing the book back down at Ford’s side. “Why don’t Katee and I rummage around in here and take anything substantial we can find and give it to you. Then you can use your nerd brain and read through what we bring you and see if any of it’s useful.”

A ghost of a smile appeared on Ford’s lips and it was like a ray of sunshine to Stan. “Alright, that’s actually a good idea. But remember to be gentle, many of these tomes are thousands of years old and were already fragile before the fire.” 

The gut reaction to roll his eyes came to Stan, one that came from old and scarred wounds that had never had the opportunity to heal just right until now, until Ford came home to him. That part of him wanted to say that of course he knew to not go acting like a bull in a china shop and what kind of fool did his brother take him for but he let the voice quiet down instead.

“Oh I know, I’ll go grab us some brooms.” Katee stated with the usual spring in her voice beginning to return to her.

“Perfect.” Stan smiled and got to work moving the nearest liftable block of ceiling into the corner. 

There was a completely smashed, albeit mostly unharmed book underneath, which Ford delicately took it into his hands like he was lifting a dead pet off the road after seeing it be hit by a car. Seeing his brother in this state really made Stan start to become blue himself but he wouldn’t let himself start to slip. He’d keep his own spirits up for the both of them.

The night aged on and the auroras danced overhead in shades of purple, blue and red while countless stars winked at the three of them. Under the cold of the night, Stan was beginning to regret not bringing his coat with him since his loose pineapple themed button up was doing him little favors at the moment. His hands were blackened with soot like he had dipped them in ink from all the sifting through burned down shelves he and Katee had been doing and his backache was steadily stiffening him up from the hours spent bent over looking at the floor. Their findings had been fewer than Stan had hoped since they had only recovered a moderately sized pile of books and scrolls that were still recognizable for Ford to go through. They were finding enough to keep him busy at least and that was what he cared about the most.

A steady tap from Jheselbraum’s cane came to their ears and the three companions paused in what they were doing to greet her. With one arm she carried a tray containing three small yet stout glass vials of a bright green liquid and instructed, “Come forth, unless you’d like to remain cursed.” 

She set the tray down on the rock beside Ford and the man eagerly closed up the scroll he had been reading from and said, “I think I’d rather be able to sleep again.”

“Ooh gimme, I’ll drink to that.” Stan said gravelly as he reached for one of the glasses.

Katee reached out and grabbed him by the wrist, stopping him from taking one. “Woah hang on Stan, you do not want to be drinking this one. I actually know that at least.”

“What? What kinda potion is this then?” He questioned, feeling rather confused. 

The Oracle gave a small laugh as she daintily plucked one of the bottles from the tray and removed the topper. “The kind you pour over the inflicted area. I’ll need to pour it over each of your heads since your curses are in your brains.”

Ford ran his ash stained fingers through his unruly hair and said to the Oracle, “Well I’m ready when you are.”

“Very well then.” She nodded and carefully drizzled the contents over the top of Ford’s head and the liquid soaked into his scalp and to Stan’s bewilderment, his brother’s hair began to spark.

“Uh, what?” He asked in a baffled tone as he took a half step away from the craziness.

Jheselbraum finished with her task and placed the empty glass back and replaced it in her hand with one of the other two full ones. Katee trotted right over and the other woman poured the contents of the bottle out between her grey crests and just like with Ford, sparks flew from her head but at a much greater intensity this time. 

We’re gonna burn this library down for a second time at this rate. He thought apprehensively.

His brother ran his fingers through his dry hair once more and noticed his unease so he told him, “I promise it’s perfectly safe Stan, in fact, I feel much better now than I have in days.”

“It’s not like I have much of a choice. My options are either never to sleep again or willingly set my hair on fire.” Stan grumbled but did finally approach the Oracle. “Awright Jessie, do your thing.”

Stan squeezed his eyes shut and flinched as he felt the cool liquid pour itself over his head and the difference it made to his fatigued mind was immediate. The fog and lingering headache evaporated like water to a hot pan as sparks shot from the tips of his hair and a heaviness he didn’t even know he had been carrying in his mind lifted, causing him to feel lighter than he had all week. It was like the thick mud his thoughts had to travel through had loosened back up to a nice river, making his tired mind feel refreshed. 

“Oh hey, that wasn’t so bad.” Stan commented as he patted his head to extinguish any fires that may have started.

“Well I’m glad that’s done with. How does your search go?” The Oracle inquired as she took the tray back into her arms.

“Not well, I’m afraid. Stan and Katee have practically cleared every last charred board and left no stone unturned. What remains of the library is useless to our cause and sits in that pile beside me. There’s nothing here on the Blind Caverns.” Ford said dully, gesturing to the hundred or so books and scrolls stacked neatly on the floor. “We’ll leave for Dimension 3-A tomorrow.” He sighed as he stood and arched his back.

“Wait really, we’re leaving already? Don’t I get a say in this?” Stan questioned.

“We must take no vacation days if we want to see Cipher’s downfall come swiftly, Stanley.” Ford explained steadily. “Now come along, we better be getting to sleep. Properly this time now that our curses have been lifted.”

Stan grunted in a displeased manner but did follow after his twin out of the library and back towards their room.

“Do you remember Dr. Markovich?” Ford asked suddenly after some silence.

“Yeah… Why’d you bring him up?” Stan puzzled.

There was no possible way he could ever forget that rotten old bastard Dr. Markovich. The man was a retired army dentist and cold as steel. Why anyone had ever let him poke around in the mouth of a child was beyond him. Unfortunately for Stan and Ford, he was also friends with pa and that got them discounts whenever they visited so that meant he was their only dentist all the way until he had gotten kicked out of the house. 

“Oh it’s, it’s nothing. Forget I said anything.” The sweater wearing man dismissed quickly.

“Ford, you can’t bring somethin’ up and then not tell me.” He reminded his twin. 

His brother seemed to squirm a little but he squared his jaw and said, “Well, that look you gave me when you saw Jess give me the potion is the exact look you gave ma every time she told us we had a dentist appointment.”

“You know I don’t like medical mumbo jumbo Sixer, especially not when it’s alien or magical.” Stan said as he suppressed a shiver. “And that back there was both alien and magic medical crap.”

“You know I don’t either but Jheselbraum has earned my trust. I know she’d never hurt me.” Ford tried telling him. 

“Well still, I don’t like it…” He trailed off while childhood memories came back to him. “Heh, I remember you’d start memorizing when our next appointment was so you would know when to hide us.” Stan laughed dryly.

“The logic was sound, if we could evade ma until our appointment was over then she couldn’t possibly take us.” Ford remembered with a frown.

“Yeah but then she’d just reschedule while we were at school and then take us by surprise.” Stan snorted. “She ruined our day that one time when she told us we were going out for ice cream.”

“But then we pulled up at Dr. Markovich’s office.” Ford grimaced at the memory and took one of Mabel’s gel pens out of his pocket and began to roll it back and forth in his palm, which Stan took notice of. 

It quite reminded him of the way his brother would do fidgety little things just like that when he was nervous as a child too. In the days leading up to an appointment, Ford would be constantly wound up. An abundance of pacing and equation reciting was to be had as the bad time was looming just on the horizon. Stan couldn’t say he blamed his brother’s quirk, those dentist visits were unpleasant to say the least. On the day of the appointment, it wasn’t uncommon for the brothers to come home from school through the window and hide themselves away in hopes that ma would forget about them or be unable to find them. But eventually she did learn their hiding spot, the back of their closet after covering themselves with dirty laundry, which made the young Ford even more anxious, even to the point of tears. That was when Stan decided he would bite the bullet and work as a distraction to his mother while Ford hid himself away in his new spot, the back corner of the attic, until she couldn’t afford to waste any more time and just settled to take one of the two of them.

“Fun times.” Stan said sarcastically.

“Not at all.” Ford replied with a hint of anxiousness.

The twins made it back to the door to their room and Stan asked his brother, “Is there a bathroom in this place?”

Ford tilted his head slightly as he tried to remember the layout of the temple. “Down the other hall and it’s the… third door on the right if I’m remembering correctly.”

“Great. I hope it’s not ashes like the rest of it is.” Stan muttered as he walked away.

The sweater wearing man watched his brother’s retreating back turn the corner and then he grabbed the door handle to retire for the night when a familiar voice called out to him.

“Hey Ford, wait a second.” Katee trotted up to him with a wave.

“Hm, yes Katee?” He asked, pausing at the door and turning around to face her.

The dino stopped once she caught up to him and started, “I uh, I’ve been meaning to ask, but how’s Mabel been back at home?” 

“Oh just splendidly. I’d never seen her happier now that she’s back with her friends and family. Well, sans Stan and I, of course. But she misses you and talks about you often so it’s clear she really cares for you.” He informed her.

A little half chuckle left her lips and she stated, “That’s my girl.” She cleared her throat awkwardly and continued, “And how have you been? Because uh, well, you weren’t exactly the epitome of prime mental health last time I saw you with Mabel.” 

Wait, what was she talking abou- oh. The realization hit him like a cement truck to the chest, his fight with Mabel and leaving her in Dimension 52. “Ah yes, you’re right. I guess you’re the last person I have to apologize to.” He cleared his throat and looked her sharply in the eye and said, “Katee, the way I treated Mabel was inexcusable and I’m deeply sorry for how I hurt her. I hurt you too, no doubt and it’s something I regret.” He paused and then continued, “But Mabel and I have made amends, we’ve moved forward and she’s completely forgiven me. You no longer have to worry.”

Katee pleasantly smiled as something warm settled in her heart. She hadn’t realized until now that she had been wanting an apology somewhere in her subconscious and the human’s gesture was nice. “Thank you, Ford. I forgive you.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Ford said sincerely and held out his hand to shake.

“What are you doing? We’re way past that.” The dino chuckled and wrapped him in a hug that knocked his glasses askew.

When she let him go, she informed him, “Oh and before I go, I grabbed this for you earlier. I was lucky not everything in my room burned.” She grabbed his hand and placed a tiny bit of circuitry on his upturned palm. “Attach this beside the flashlight battery and you’ll be able to call me on your Multipurpose Portalling Device.”

Ford eyed the delicate thing curiously and a warm smile came to his face. “Thank you,  Katee.” 

As she turned to leave, she smiled back. “Of course, Ford. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” He called back and stepped inside his and Stan’s room.

Stan listened to Ford’s breathing become soft with a slow rhythm until he was certain he was asleep. Then he crawled out of his own bed, where he had been pretending to be asleep, and pulled on his loafers and silently opened the door. The realization he had made earlier in the day had stuck with him and not in a good way; he didn’t know how to read the alien language here. It seemed as though Ford was determined to figure out a way to get through the Blind Caverns by the sheer power of nerdy research alone. Stan didn’t have a problem with that for the most part, he wanted to hang Bill Cipher on the wall like a hunting trophy almost as badly as Ford did. But how was he supposed to help his brother if he couldn’t even read? Well if one thing was for certain, he thought as he headed towards the library, he wasn’t going to ride on Ford’s coattails for this.

Walking through the burned down areas of the temple creeped him out even more in the early hours of the morning than it did that evening so he just kept his head down until he crossed the threshold into the library and immediately regretted that decision. He didn’t even have time to process it, one second he was fine and the next there was a sword against his throat. Stan gulped and froze as he put his hands in the air and his eyes began to dart around for an exit. But his gaze followed the path of the blade, one with many runes running down the steel, and finally saw who was holding the weapon. 

Jheslebraum’s gaze was soft and inviting when they made eye contact and she returned the blade to its sheath, which was the shaft of her cane, and set the book she had been reading under the starlight beside her on the rock she was sitting on. “Welcome back, Stanley. You don’t need to wander any further.” She chuckled softly, hidden by the shadows.

That thing’s been a sword this whole time? Why don’t I have one of those? Stan thought as he stared at her cane.

“Heh, yeah thanks.” Stan nervously laughed back. “So… whatcha readin’ there?” He asked, pointing to the book she had just set down.

“ Advanced Rune Etching Volume 47 .” She slyly smiled. “Probably too complicated for your purposes, though. I’ll fetch a lighter read for you.”

The man blinked dumbfoundedly. “What- you read minds now too?”

She shakily stood and limped over to the pile of books neatly laid out atop a slab of ceiling and shook her head. “Not at all. A spell of prophecy simply allows me to aid you the best I can. I don’t read minds, I see the future, Stan.” She told him silkily as she plucked a particular book from the pile. It was thinner than most of the others and missing its back cover with its corners singed. 

“This will do well enough,” the Oracle said with a faint smile, “ A Child’s Guide to the Axolotl. Come and sit.” She fluidly gestured to the space on the rock she had been sitting on and Stan did sit, feeling like a little kid about to be read to by his ma. What was it with this lady and his mom?

She began to explain, “The books in this library are all written in the Universal Text for the most ease of access to visitors like yourself. There are countless written languages in the Multiverse, but this one will be the most common so it’s useful to learn.” 

Stan listened patiently to her overview of the language and even though a part of him groaned in protest at being taught like he was in school all over again, he tried his best to learn. He had taught himself quantum physics to repair a portal for Ford’s sake, so learning an alien language really couldn’t be that hard in comparison. He just had to buckle down and put in the work. So as the night turned to morning, he spent all the time he had for his brother, just like countless ones before it spent in a dim and gloomy basement in Gravity Falls.

Chapter Text

Stan’s feet hit the smooth tile as his breakfast leapt uncomfortably in his stomach and the rushing of wind in his ears subsided. Blinking the light from his eyes, he found himself to be inside probably the largest building he had ever seen. Polished steel and glass rolled like waves several stories above his head as floors upon floors of portals lined the walls with long queues of aliens in all possible shapes and sizes, pushing the boundaries of biology, waiting for their turn to travel to another dimension. Dotted in between the rows of portals was the occasional sleek and shiny lounging area or restaurant staffed entirely by humanoid robots.

“Stanley!” Ford barked from just ahead of him. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Huh, what is it? I got caught up takin’ in the sights.” He responded.

“Stan, are you sure the Restoration potion worked properly on you? You look even more tired than you did yesterday.” Ford asked as he took Stan by the arm and led him into the crowd, away from the portal they had just leapt out of, and towards the exit of the terminal.

“For the thousandth time Ford, yes, it did work on me. I got plenty of sleep last night.” Stan grumbled, feeling completely exhausted by his all nighter spent learning the Universal Text. It seemed like his hard work had pulled off since looking up at the signage, he could make out a few words here and there, mostly giving directions. “This is the biggest Portal Hub I’ve ever seen.” Stan breathed as he continued to look around, only to be yanked out of the path of a large armadillo-like creature by Ford. He yelped and pulled his arm out of his brother’s grasp, “Gah, Ford quit yanking me around. I know how to make it through a crowd.”

“Apparently not.” Ford huffed, looking him up and down with displeasure behind his goggles and bandana. “You don’t know how to blend in either. You didn’t wear the clothes I told you to.” 

Stan thought his hibiscus flower button up and cargo shorts looked great. It made him look touristy, like he was innocent and didn’t know what he was doing. He had been around the block and knew how to take care of himself on the streets, which Ford couldn’t seem to get through his head. That bothered him more than it should’ve but he ignored it with an insult of his own. “Says the guy who looks like the sci-fi apocalypse barfed all over him.”

Ford scoffed at his comment and carped, “When you wear black, you blend in better with other travelers.”

“Uh yeah and let everyone know you’re a shifty guy? No way.” Stan retorted as he and his brother sped up around a family of what he could only describe as a cross between a horse and an octopus.

“And cover your face Stan, we have the same one and I’m highly wanted. Security is very tight in Dimension 3-A, we have to be extremely careful.” Ford whispered in his ear as they passed by a busy restaurant that smelled of chinese takeout and made Stan’s mouth water. The trenchcoat wearing man tried pointing to the various drones patrolling around above them but Stan was too busy staring at the exotic looking food as they walked by. 

“It’s like I said Ford, that’ll only bring more attention to ya. Act like you belong, keep a low profile, and you’ll be fine.” Stan dismissed as he swiped a side plate of something vaguely meaty off the corner most table. 

“Stan!” Ford hissed.

He shrugged through a mouthful of food. “Hey think of it this way, I just saved you lunch money. Speakin’ of which…” He opened a pocket on his cargo shorts and showed Ford the alien wallet inside that he had snagged, which he was sure his brother was highly displeased by even though he couldn’t read his face behind his goggles and mask.

His twin only muttered something Stan didn’t catch under his breath and led them down several flights of stairs wide enough to fit a hundred people across. This dimension was sending him the wrong message with all its fancy robot workers and drones wandering overhead but as much as he disliked it, he didn’t really have a choice in their location, they needed the specific library here for reasons Stan couldn’t understand to figure out just how they were supposed to actually even make it face to face with Bill. Expressing his concern to Ford would surely only agitate him further so he opted for the second best thing he could think to do, put on an easy exterior and act like he belonged.

Skylights above them let in an abundance of natural light from the bright blue sky and showed Stan the towering organically shaped skyscrapers in the city beyond. The bottom of the steps opened up to a stadium sized plaza in the outside world where dozens white paths stretched out in geometric shapes leading to the buildings on the perimeter between expanses of dark pink grass many were lounging about or picnicking on. So far, Stan had only been to two dimensions and neither had allowed him much time spent in civilization so the bustling cityscape with fresh air, tidy walkways, and abundance of flourishing plantlife was very new and beautiful to him. He picked up bits and pieces of conversations and casual chatter with the help of his Universal Translator as others passed by them and it filled him with an abundance of wonder.

There were creatures of all sorts walking to and fro on their daily commutes but now that they were out of the Portal Hub, one particular species largely outnumbered the rest. Standing at twice their height, the majority of the lifeforms around outside were thin and gangly with leathery, ashen skin and angular hips accompanied by short, inwardly curving tails. Their facial features were flat and atop each of their bald heads were a pair of antlers that looked like a moose’s might, except for they grew vertically around the back of their skull and fused together.

“There sure are a lotta deer lookin’ people around.” Stan said under his breath as Ford pulled him off to the side of a path and out of the way of everyone else.

“Deer looking?” Ford questioned since apparently he had the hearing of an owl.

“I dunno how you possibly heard that but yeah, deer looking. Look at their antler things.” He said, trying to discreetly point to one of the aliens in question. “I didn’t see many back inside but there’s a lotta them out here.”

Ford followed the path of his finger and only then seemed to understand what he was talking about. “Ah yes, the native residents of Dimension 3-A. They call themselves the Doeminix.”

“Doe? As in deer?” He laughed. “Mabel would love to try and sit on one of their heads and use their horns like a backrest.” He softly smiled as the crowd continued to part around them.

The sweater wearing man tilted his head amusedly as he eyed one of the aliens in question and replied, “That’s precisely something I’d expect her to point out if she were here.” He sighed, “It’s a shame I never got to show this place to her.”

Stan half smiled, “Well, you’re showin’ me at least. I’m sure I could snag her a souvenir.” 

His brother hummed in thought and steered the conversation back to where it as before, “Anyways to answer your previous observation, If I had to wager a guess as to why so few Doeminix were back inside the Portal Hub, I’d say it’s because Dimension 3-A is often used as an layover point in the Multiverse to get to and from two other dimensions that may not have a direct linkage. So you get lots of travelers inside but not out.”

“How do you just know all this stuff?” He genuinely inquired. 

“It’s all just a simple observation, really.” Ford shrugged. “Alright now where’s that Shuttle Terminal? Hm, maybe I should’ve grabbed a map.” He mumbled to himself among the crowd in the plaza. 

“Oh, I think that could be it.” Stan pointed out, gesturing towards an overhanging sign that stretched out from something that looked kinda like a train station and kinda like a skyscraper. The lettering on the sign looked like it could be related to travel but what was the biggest giveaway to Stan were all the floating glass orbs with people inside traveling to and from the location.

“Ah perfect, good eye Stanley. That’ll get us to the library in relatively little time. I don’t think we’ll want to be walking.” Ford stated as he softly pushed Stan forward with his hand and headed in the direction of the terminal.

“Geez Ford, would it kill ya to quit that? Stop draggin’ me around like I’m a toddler.” Stan huffed as he walked alongside his brother.

His twin rolled his eyes under his goggles. “Calm down Stan, you’re acting like I’m puppeting you.”

Feeling the familiar frustration of his brother’s stubbornness, Stan rubbed his eyes and tried to let it go. “Alright just- stop.”

“I’ll stop when you change your clothes and cover your face, like I instructed you before we left Dimension 52.” Ford grumbled.

“Yes ma .” Stan shot while they ascended the steps to the Shuttle Terminal, consciously turning his head to the floor to avoid the drone that was scanning the entrance. He wasn’t going to give Ford the smug satisfaction of caving to his nagging so he could feel right and smart. He was capable of helping Ford out on his own terms, keeping out of trouble and finding what they were looking for at the library without his brother having to coddle him in a condescending manner. 

Inside the Shuttle Terminal were dozens of floors stacked on top of each other of what appeared to be similar enough to train station platforms, but where he expected the tracks to be was only empty air, so Stan was able to see directly up the middle of the building for hundreds of feet. Long trains of free floating, spherical glass compartments interconnected at the top by a segmented steel support beam were constantly arriving at and leaving the many floors as the duo briefly checked a map of the building and entered an elevator that took them to the eighteenth floor. This particular platform was quite busy compared to at least the one on the first floor so the twins were forced to wait for almost a half hour before they made it to the front of the crowd to take a ride in their own bubble. Stan didn’t mind the wait much, he was able to pickpocket a number of coin purses and wallets. It made him feel better to know that now he had some cash of his own and wouldn’t be reliant on Ford for money anymore.

“You better not misstep and fall and die and leave me behind, Sixer.” Stan commented as the train came to a stop in front of them, floating there with several inches of space between the platform and itself as one of its sides opened to let the travelers already inside out.

“You only wish I would.” Ford joked lightly.

Stan rolled his eyes and stepped inside their private compartment as he said pleasantly, “Heh, no ticket, I like it.”

“Fortunately for us, public transportation is free here. Unfortunately for others, it’s paid for by the taxation of poorer dimensions.” Ford stated as he sat down on the chrome bench across from him.

Stan grumbled sarcastically, “Nice to know that the inevitability of death and taxes applies literally everywhere.”

The glass door to their little bubble closed and soon they were gaining speed, flying higher into the atmosphere until they were above even the highest building tops, which gave them a wicked view of the city below. Now that they had gotten up high enough, Stan could look out above the tall buildings and see that Ford wasn’t kidding, this city stretched out to the horizon and even then kept going past the curvature of the planet. The only things he could see as far as the laws of physics would allow was steel, glass, concrete, and urbanized pink flora. No wonder they needed a shuttle to get to the library, it was probably miles away.

“We’re literally just flying in an orb through the air. Now I’ve seen everything.” Stan deadpanned as he looked through the glass beneath his feet at the tiny people down below.

Sitting across from him, Ford barked a small laugh and said with a grin plastered on his face, “Far from it, I’m afraid. You haven’t even seen the library yet. It’s the single largest collection of literature and knowledge in the entire Multiverse, if there’s information on the Blind Caverns that can help us, it has to be there. Hopefully.” 

“Huh, an’ I’m sure you’ve just been dying to bring that up.” Stan smirked.

“Oh, absolutely.” His brother agreed.

He continued to stare out of their vehicle, gesturing vaguely to the urban environment. “And it just goes and goes forever. I can’t even wrap my head around the logistics of it all, the water lines, powering it all, and how many people must live here.”

To his right, Ford kicked up his feet on the bench but did not take his mask down. “Well when you’re the founder of the Multiversal Alliance and govern over nine thousand dimensions because of it, you get the resources you need to power a city like this with a population nearing a billion.” 

Stan snapped his head to his brother in disbelief. “N-nine thousand? Heh, talk about an empire, amiright?” 

“Precisely. Many of the dimensions Mabel and I visited were at least indirectly governed by the Council here, for better or for worse.” Ford explained as he drummed his fingers against his legs.

Stan took a seat on the steel bench across from his brother and rested his hands in his lap as he gazed out at the countless skyscrapers. Here he was in the largest city he would probably ever visit, under a government larger than any comprehensible on earth, and he was here to experience it with his crazy nerd brother. Well, said brother had been driving him nuts all morning but that was beside the point. 

“Huh.” He dictated. “What a crazy place. Living here would give me a headache.”

“Well that’s something we can agree on then.” Ford responded.

They spent the rest of their ride in silence, with Stan choosing to catch up on some shuteye that he had missed the previous night while Ford journaled on their journey so far. Hundreds of city blocks flew by as they crossed lengths that would have taken them days to travel across on foot in only half an hour. Finally, they landed at yet another Shuttle Terminal and stepped out into the middle of what almost looked like a massive park with two even bigger buildings at either end. If the streets and scenery had been nice before, they looked utterly utopic now. The walkway they stood on was pure white with silver streaks and the dark pink lawn of the park perfectly manicured despite the abundance of people all about. They fell into two groups that Stan was able to easily identify, the tourists that came in a diverse array of species, and the very business like Doeminix that moved about in a hurry.

To their left and right at either end of the park were two identical buildings even larger than the Portal Hub he had been in earlier. Erected out of gold and steel in a crescent shape, they steadily became taller the closer to the center they came and were so fanciful Stan wouldn’t have hesitated to call them palaces. Like all the other architecture around here, the outside had a bubbling warped texture while they towered over everything else. The grounds encompassing either of the buildings were also identical and perfectly cared for, with a dotting of pink and silver trees that mimicked a natural forested appearance.

“Geez, talk about overkill.” Stan whistled.

“They’re quite a sight, aren’t they? I’ve never actually seen them in person until now.” Ford chuckled. “The one on our left is the home of the Council and is where all government happenings take place. Mirroring it on our right is the Library of Truth. That’s where we’re headed.” 

A small group of very important looking Doeminix passed by, accompanied by a pair of drones. “There’s too many feds here for my liking, I don’t like it one bit.” Stan sighed. 

Ford eyed the drones that passed overhead suspiciously. “Unfortunately I once again have to agree with you.” 

The brothers started off towards the library, passing by a patrolling squad of four baton wielding humanoid robots that vaguely resembled the Doeminix in the process, which Stan made the effort to give the stink eye to. Upon entering the grounds of the library, he discovered there was a long and skinny fountain that stretched down the middle of their walkway all the way up the golden steps and right up to the grandiose glass entrance. It was too much for Stan’s liking, the stupid place was insisting upon itself and it made him groan internally. Stepping inside to the foyer of the library wasn’t much different, with a dark polished wooden floor in a pattern too complex for its own good and more golden trim on everything that only exaggerated the rich appearance of the wooden furniture. Several more of those pesky drones patrolled overhead as the library split off in two vast and opposite directions on either side of the shiny front desk that was at least a hundred feet wide with dozens of Doeminix and the occasional security robot.

Stan kept his head low and posture unassuming as Ford gave them no mind and took Stan by the elbow, much to his annoyance, and led him off to the right. Stan read the lettering perfectly engraved onto the floor that informed him that this was the non-fiction section. Once they were out of sight of the main security, Stan took the opportunity to shove Ford away from him, voice his displeasure, and get a feel for the place. Being near the center of the building, Stan wasn’t surprised to see the utter expanse of bookshelves climbing to dizzying heights, with the hundreds of floors separated by walkable glass. It appeared that on the inside, the crescent moon shape of the library was divided up into rings, with circular divisions of the place continuing along the curvature of the building to his right until he could no longer see. He was utterly surrounded by so much knowledge that it made his head threaten to hurt. The thought of potentially spending days here combing through maybe a billion books did not sound like a fun time to him.

Dodging the gaze of yet another drone, he followed as Ford led them past the rows upon rows of busy studying desks, their footsteps echoing out for what felt like forever in the hushed vastness. Yep, Stan could definitely feel his brain starting to want to melt and they hadn’t even started. It was too quiet here, too big, and there were too many people too sophisticated for his tastes. People so unlike him but just like Ford, those who he must get along with swimmingly. It made him anxious, as if he didn’t know what he was doing because if he was going to be honest with himself, he really didn’t. He had the reading comprehension of a toddler after his lesson from last night and it made a familiar low throb of anxious insecurity settle heavily in his chest, cold as a block of ice. Memories of that terrible winter of ‘82 invited themselves into his brain, of fighting off an infected wound as he poured over the Gravity Falls Library, desperate to find anything he could that would possibly teach him how to fix a quantum space hole generator that had taken his brother. A phantom pain on his right shoulder flared up just to drive the point home. Nerdy research wasn’t his thing, nor was he any good at it, especially since he was on an alien planet. Ford remarked once again that he should cover his face, reminding him that he thought he was incompetent, and that didn’t help his confidence either. But he was here for Ford, for his family, and to personally see the end to the demon that had dared mess with them, so he would have to suck it up.

Ford led them to the second ring, which wasn’t quite as colossal as the first but still stretched quite high up. He read a sign listing off a variety of topics at the mouth of the spiraling staircase that circled the perimeter of the room and happily whispered to Stan as they began to climb the steps, “The section on magic is from the third floor to the thirty fourth floor. I say let’s go to the top and work our way down. I’ll read, you’ll keep a lookout.” 

Ugh, of course Sixer was glad to comb through thirty one freaking floors of old paper and ink. Gazing around at the high floor to ceiling shelves circling the walls that required a rolling ladder just to reach the top of, Stan sighed tiredly as the sinking feeling that it was going to take days or even weeks to meticulously go through everything here soaked into his fatigued bones. It looked like days spent sleeping hunched over at wooden desks awaited him, something intimately familiar to Ford no doubt, but a neck ache waiting to happen for him.

“Hey Ford, why don’t we split up so you take one floor and I’ll take another? We’ll go a lot faster that way.” He suggested as they passed one of those deer aliens in a pencil skirt on the steps.

“You can’t read Stanley… And we’re safer if we’re together.” Ford told him as if it was obvious.

“No you don’t understand Poindexter, I can, kinda, sort of, read. Jessie gave me a readin’ lesson last night. S-so as long as this place is in Universal Text, I could pick out book titles at least.” 

Ford responded with just a sliver of chiding in his voice that he didn’t like. “Stan, the Doeminix invented the Universal Text, that’s why it’s in so many dimensions, it’s universal.”

Stan scoffed as he began to feel winded from their trek up the stairs and he began to wonder why it was that they were always climbing so many. “Oh ok, well I’m sorry if I didn’t automatically know that and was trying to help. I’ll just go back to being useless cuz that’s how you like it.”

His twin flinched like he had raised his arm to strike him and griped, “Nice to know you trusted me enough to lie to me earlier about actually getting sleep last night. You need your rest, Stan.” 

It irked him greatly that Stan could’ve been so reckless. His wellbeing was very important, not only for their mission, but for his own peace of mind and Stan’s safety too. But the small and quiet voice came to him and told him it was hypocritical of him to be upset with Stan for not sleeping if he considered his own bedtime habits. This is different, I can handle the long nights and he can’t. The toxic side of him tried saying but he cast it out. He wasn’t special, he wasn’t any better than Stan even if Bill had tried so hard putting him up on a pedestal and he wasn’t going to listen to that dark side of himself anymore. 

“And there it is again, Ford.” Stan shot. “I’m not a kid anymore, I’m a grown adult and I don’t need you to harp on me over everything.” 

Just like that, Ford’s irritation was back. That wasn’t what he was trying to do at all but Stan was going out of his way to misunderstand him when he was only trying to look out for him. So he snapped back, “Harp you by being concerned for your basic safety? Well if you’re so sure if my helpful advice is useless, why don’t you go ahead and go off on your own?” If Stan wanted to be stubborn then fine, he would let him be stubborn.

“Well good, great even, that’s what I wanted anyway.” Stan growled a little too loudly as he turned around and walked a few steps down to the eighth floor, getting him a few looks from other library patrons within earshot.

“Fine, see if I care.” Ford fumed with a whisper as he continued to stomp up the steps.

Stan rubbed his temples as he began to read the nearest book spines. I’ll prove to him I’m not an idiot. I’m gonna find the best damn book in this entire library and then he’ll see. He thought bitterly.

Minutes slowly turned to hours as Stan steadily read thousands of book titles, none of which seemed to have anything to do with the Blind Caverns. He fell into a routine, sift through a row of books, skim through the ones that seemed even vaguely useful, avoid a patrolling drone and quartet of robots, find nothing of interest, and then repeat. His stomach’s grumbling continuously grew louder as the time went on even if the light in the sky remained the same and confused the daylights out of his circadian rhythm. Every once and a while, he vaguely wondered how Ford was doing. 

Probably great now that he’s on his own . A part of him thought saltily. He blinked from his thoughts, realizing that this was now the third time in a row he had gone through the table of contents in “ The History of Magic Usage in The Political Leveraging Dimension 4-B ”. He put it back, it didn’t seem like a real page turner anyways. 

Then suddenly there was a tap on his shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his socks as he wheeled around to see Ford standing there, still in his stupid goggles and bandana and dressed for the goth takeover of the world. “We’ve been searching for eight hours, Stanley. It’s probably best if we eat a meal and get some rest.” He told him as he took a scrumptious smelling styrofoam package out of a plastic bag Stan had only just realized Ford had been holding.

Stan opened the takeout to see his meal was steaming and composed of something lumpy and purple, textured like potato salad with a healthy garnish of whitish pink, spiraling greens and muttered, “Rabbit food, really Sixer?” 

“I didn’t have to get you anything at the food court.” Ford grumbled back, to which Stan only grunted in response.

All the desks on this floor seemed to be full so he sat next to Ford in a plush cyan chair in the more secluded far side of the room near the restrooms. The warm orange lighting and skylight sunshine that lit the rest of the room was dimmer here and gave a dark and cozy energy.

“Have you found anything yet?” Stan asked after some silence.

“No. Have you?” Ford responded curtly.

“No.” 

They continued the rest of their meal quietly, with neither brother particularly wanting to break the silence and attempt to make conversation. To drive the point home, Ford finished his meal rather quickly and all he said as he left his seat was, “I need to finish something up there, I can join you back here for rest later.” Then he instructed with his brows raised behind his goggles, “Get some sleep, Stan.”

Stan crossed his arms and scowled at his brother’s retreating back and hated to admit that Ford did have a point, he was getting very tired sitting here in a comfy chair and the thought of sleep sounded great to his worn out mind and body. “Traitors.” He told his heavy eyelids as they shut.

Waking up in a secluded corner of a public library was something Stan had done in his life before, during one December in Michigan back in ‘75 when the heater to his car had broken down, but that didn’t mean he particularly liked it. His neck winced in pain from sleeping in the chair wrong and he couldn’t help but notice Ford was nowhere to be seen. Had he slept at all? Probably not, that big fat hypocrite. 

He stretched out and shooed another drone away, which made a little beeping noise before it scurried off, and made his way back to the shelf he had left off on the night? could he say the night before? If anything, it only seemed like the sky overhead had turned to early evening the entire time he and Ford had been here. And just how long had they been here? He couldn’t know how long he had slept because time was screwy here and it made his head swim not knowing what time it was. His stomach growled, indicating at least some significant time passage since he knew he had eaten just before he slept. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to go looking for that cafeteria Ford had previously mentioned.

Peering around for a map, another drone flew right up to him and he batted it out of arm’s reach because they were really starting to get on his nerves now, like a swarm of flies that refused to leave him alone. It seemed reasonable to him that the food court would be on a lower floor since all he could see around him were books at the moment so he started towards the stairs. A squadron of four tall robots met him at the top of the steps and stopped, blocking his path as the drone remained monitoring him overhead. It was only then that his gut told him that something fishy was going on and he wished he would’ve had that epiphany just a little sooner because just then, the frontmost droid reached out and grabbed him by the shoulders faster than he could blink.

“STANFORD PINES: YOU ARE WANTED FOR 178 OFFENSES UNDER THE COUNCIL'S LAW. DO NOT RESIST AND NO HARM WILL COME.” The droid blared as its fingers locked around his shoulders and dug into his skin.

“Ow, hey! What happened to no harm? Let me go, you tin can pigs or you’re gonna regret it.” Stan growled as he tried to twist around in the robot’s grasp and grab his knuckle dusters. 

But before he could even get his fingertips into his pocket, another droid roughly held his wrists and cuffed him behind his back. A third droid pulled a lever on the wall that up until this point, Stan had assumed to be a fire alarm. It turned the lighting in the whole building red as a deep beeping rattled the air and informed in a low voice, “CRITICAL ARREST IN PROGRESS. REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE OR FACE CRIMINAL PUNISHMENT.”

It began to repeat itself in the most annoying volume possible as the fourth droid grabbed Stan’s kicking legs and locked them in place and together, they began to run him towards the exit. No matter how hard he flailed, spat, and cursed at his captors as books began to blur together into a smear of color, their hydraulic limbs refused to budge and free him up.

“Uh oh, this can’t be good…” He cringed.

Ford had just finished looking through his fifth floor in his seventeen hour searching session and had found not so much as a footnote on Bill Cipher. As frustrating as it was, he had to keep going. Needless to say, he had gotten completely wrapped up in his search and had forgotten to come down to the eighth floor and rest with Stan. Wait Stan- where was Stan? The thought came to him coincidentally as the lights around him abruptly sank from a cozy warm orange to a deep, chilling red as an alarm began to cry. “CRITICAL ARREST IN PROGRESS. REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE OR FACE CRIMINAL PUNISHMENT.”

His eyes darted around as he instinctively went for his blaster, scanning the room for danger coming to take him away. But when he found none, confusion started to trickle into his mind and his gaze turned to the glass floor because maybe whatever the commotion was, it was going on below him? That seemed logical enough and his train of thought proved to be correct when only four floors down, he saw a carbon copy of himself in a hideous colorful button up being carried down the stairs by two security droids and flanked on either side by two more. A sting of panic got his legs moving before he could even think and when he finally did, all he could get through was, this isn’t good!

Other library goers gawked at him like he had a death wish as they remained seated or still in place as he flew down the floors to catch up to his twin. Luckily for him, he was faster than the robots carrying his brother and he met them on the third floor by firing a blaster shot off on the security droid carrying Stan’s shoulders. Unluckily for him, one of the free standing bots stepped in the way of his line of fire, effectively tanking the hit and allowing the other two to get away with Stan. The fourth droid helped its companion to its feet and aimed its baton at Ford as every single one of the half dozen patrolling drones on the floor stopped their routine search and came right for him. They flashed a blinding light at him, forcing him to squint and become temporarily blinded as the droids fired and four taser prongs hit his sweater. 

One of the benefits of wearing thick clothing that he didn’t often bring up was just how well sweaters happened to protect against attempts at being tasered, which happened often enough that he had lost track of just how many failed electrocuting attempts had been made by his various enemies by now. Using the hem of his black trench coat as an improvised glove, he yanked the prongs free from himself as the drones blinded him again. 

Blast these drones, literally. He thought irritatedly as he shot three out of the air in quick succession. The other three adapted to the danger and circled behind him and further away, making them more difficult targets. 

The sweater wearing man lunged for the stairs, eager to catch up with his brother and get him out of this mess he had tried to warn him of. He was caught by the wrist by one of the droids and Ford took the attack as an opportunity to spin around close to the robot so its front was firmly in place against his back with its arm that had grabbed him over his shoulder. Ford wasn’t sure if the thing would react similarly to a lifeform by being thrown over his shoulder but he decided it wouldn’t hurt to try anyways. He grabbed the bot's arm and curled his back, throwing the droid over his head and sending it crashing into a nearby table, which got him several screams from bystanders in the process. 

The second droid sent its baton down right into his ribs on his left side as the circling drones swooped down to flash him with a beam of light before retreating and then there was another steel hand around his wrist. Just like before, only ignoring the radiating pain in his side this time, Ford used the bot’s programming against itself and threw it over his shoulder it slammed straight into its friend just as it was getting to its feet. Eyes still hurting from the previous blindings, Ford briefly turned his attention to the drones just long enough to bring the rest of them down and put a few smoking holes into the book covered shelves as collateral damage. 

Wishing that Bill hadn’t eaten his magnet gun a month ago, he opened fire on the two robots, frying the critical circuitry in their chest cavities and turning them into empty shells on the glass floor. He approached the alarm lever, flipped it back to its original state, and stopped all the grating noise and flashing red lights that were beginning to fill him with nervous energy. Breathing out a sigh of relief at the newfound quiet, he consciously slowed his breathing and looked around at his surroundings. The citizens, mostly composed of the Doeminix, had ignored the alarm’s warnings and had all huddled together on the far side of the room, staring at him in a frightened manner like he was a devil from Hell.

He glanced down through the glass floors and quietly cursed when Stan was nowhere to be seen because apparently he had been too slow. Weighing his options, he knew he could either try to blindly go after Stan and hope he could find him, or he could use what information he had here to figure out where his twin was being taken. As he approached the cowering group of aliens with a grumble, he opted for the latter option as the laws of this land were unfamiliar to him, but probably not to others. 

“You there! Where are they taking him?” He barked, pointing his blaster to the bravest of the group in the front and center, who was holding up a chair to protect the others from Ford.

The others gasped in shock as the woman straightened herself in the line of fire and stammered, “Shoot me if you must, m-my loyalty is t-to the Council only. A g-good citizen does not aid c-criminals.” The others in the group all nodded along, telling him no threat of harm to themselves was likely to get them to talk.

Ford was feeling a headache begin to manifest itself at the back of his skull. There was no way he would ever harm innocent bystanders but sometimes a little threatening was needed, even if he hated it when he had to do it. But now this self righteous nobody was wasting his time and forcing him to take more extreme measures. The trenchcoat clad man sighed deeply, a shameful pit already forming in his stomach at what he was about to do. He lunged forward like a striking rattlesnake quickly wrestled a young creature from their mother’s grip and dragged the crying child away from the rest of the group, threatening any who came after him with his weapon. Hoisting the distressed child to their feet, he aimed his blaster at their head, making sure it was on the lowest setting. Not that he was going to tell any of them that.

He threatened, exaggerating his voice into a deep growl, “I’m not going to ask again, Where are the droids taking him? Or is your loyalty worth more than this innocent child’s life?” He prayed these people had at least a little sense in them, this act was all bark and no bite.

The chair wielding Doeminix hesitated, allowing the poor mother of the young one he had just kidnapped to cry, “To the prison. He’s a critical arrest, he’s dangerous enough to go straight to prison without trial. The droids should have a map on their arm, please! Please, let my baby go! Please, he’s going to the prison, in the West Sector. You have to believe me.” As she was forcibly held back from running after her offspring by others around her.

Ford glanced back and he saw that the decommissioned security droids did in fact have screens on their arms and he quickly let the kid go and approached the two smoking bots for information. As the mother and child reunited with much tearshed behind him, he yanked one of the bot’s forearms free from its body and smacked it around until the screen flickered to life. A digital topdown blue and red map appeared on the screen, showing two red dots following a lined route through the city that ended in an expansive building that looked very much like a prison to him. Clicking the two red dots, which were traveling much too fast to be on foot, the screen notified him that they were named Squadmate 3 and Squadmate 4. Well it seemed like he had taken care of 1 and 2 and so the other two must have been traveling with Stan. At the pace they were going, Stan must have already been loaded into a vehicle so there was just no way he was going to be able to catch up before his twin made it to the prison and it filled him with dread. He’d have to break in. 

Having a bag over his head while being taken to an unknown second location with his own security in the back of a truck was something that had happened to Stan before, believe it or not, but that didn’t mean it was any less terrible the second time. There was no rumble of a road beneath his feet from the hover car he had been thrust into, which wasn’t helping his car sickness from the twisting and turning this vehicle was doing at all. He tried his best to memorize the route they had been taking but with the way his head swam, it was nearly impossible. Even worse was that these brain dead robots hadn’t so much as even scoffed at any of his corny remarks or terrible jokes. They just sat all statue-like, or at least he assumed they did with his eyes covered, holding either of his cuffed arms and reminding him that he was completely alone.

The hovercraft came to a smooth stop, then there was the sound of a buzzer and the moving of what was probably a gate, before it started back up for another half a minute. Then it stopped again and he was yanked to his feet and being walked somewhere he didn’t know. Before he knew it, he was led through a door to inside somewhere and he strained to hear anything that may be of use to him, like the sound of a locked door opening and letting them through, the clanking footsteps of other patrolling bots, and the whirling blades of more drones flying overhead. There was no Ford here, that much was certain. He was on his own, getting arrested under Ford’s name no less, and it made him groan. 

“Well this is just peachy. Of course I’m gettin’ myself arrested for Ford’s crimes on an alien planet. Why wouldn’t I? Why am I not surprised?” He exclaimed to nobody in particular. “Look, I’m telling you, you guys got the wrong guy.” 

This was all Ford’s fault. This dimension had put a bad taste in his mouth from the very beginning but his doofus of a brother had insisted they go to that stupid library he didn’t even want to be at, advanced technological scanning systems be damned. He wasn’t even dressed like a criminal, unlike Ford. It was Ford they were looking for, because he was the one who had decided to commit, what was it, like a hundred and fifty something different crimes? Stan had to admit, he was kinda impressed.

Hypocrite . The back of his mind hissed at him and he scowled. Now wasn’t the time for that. But it persisted and he couldn’t ignore it because he knew he had racked up a hefty criminal record under Ford’s legal name back home. This was kinda the same thing, he supposed. He was getting arrested for Ford’s intergalactic crimes and his brother wasn’t allowed on airplanes on earth. Yeah, it was totally the same thing. Totally, kinda.

Further thoughts of his were cut off when the bag was finally removed from his head and he was forcibly sat onto a steel bench in a small room with nothing but the two droids that had accompanied him and a metal cabinet on the wall. One of the bots scanned down his front with a grid pattern of light from its eyes and then proceeded to empty his pockets and store his stuff in a compartment inside its chest as the other one opened up the cabinet.

Well so much for the lockpicking kit I keep in my back pocket. He grumbled internally. 

“STRIP AND CHANGE.” The other bot commanded, setting a pale yellow prison uniform down beside him as his cuffs were unlocked. 

“What? No, especially not with you watching.” Stan seethed as he rubbed his sore wrists.

“STRIP AND CHANGE.” The robot said again, this time threatening him with its baton.

“Awright fine, geez.” He grumbled, as his mind reeled to come up with an escape plan. His knuckle dusters were gone and it was a two on one fight against cold steel guys bigger than he was so his odds of punching his way out of this wasn’t looking too good. But that was okay, he had been in worse situations before with less and had gotten out alive.

“Hiya!” Stan cried, throwing his prison uniform over the face of one of the robots while he kicked the other in the middle. 

It didn’t do nearly as much damage as he would have liked since the thing barely moved but that wasn’t what he was focused on at the moment. The droid with the uniform covering its face was also the one wielding the baton and it was forced to use a mitt to uncover its eyes, allowing Stan to grab the other end of the weapon and yank it from its weakened grasp. He swung at its head just for good measure and raced for the door. The knob didn’t give no matter how hard he turned it and giving it a good whacking with the baton wasn’t getting him anywhere either. 

“C’mon you damn thing- augh!” He was grabbed by the collar of his shirt and thrown to the ground, making him dizzy enough to drop his weapon. 

The droid he had kicked stepped right in the center of his chest as it returned the weapon to its partner, who was holding the jumpsuit and sparking from the indent on its face where Stan had hit it. “S-STRIP. ANnnnD… CHA-ANGE.” It commanded him in the same monotone voice.

“Aw…” He said as they let him sit up, although it came out like more of a growl. He gazed up to see that his captors had turned their bludgeoning weapons to tasers and were now standing in a more defensive position and out of arm's reach from him. “Fine.” He shouted. “I’ll do it.”

One humiliating change of clothes later, Stan was once again cuffed and led out of the door. The bot on his right pressed the back of its hand against the knob and a hissing and a click shortly followed and the door opened, revealing a long hall of rooms exactly the same as the one he had just been in. 

“I hope neither of you were recording that.” He grumbled as he was led down the hall. Darting his eyes around to make out any sort of landmarks, he was able to make out that the visitor’s center was down the hall to the right, but that wasn’t where he was headed. Instead, Stan was led around the corner into a section labeled CELL BLOCK 39. Several rows of two stories of barred cells filled this block it seemed.

Thirty nine? Hot belgian waffles, just how big is this place? Stan thought to himself as he was led up a flight of iron stairs and past other cells as droids patrolled the halls in groups of four and drones dutifully made sweeps in rectangles up above. 

He hadn’t been too stressed about the fact that he was going to prison before just then, his last prison experience at the ripe age of twenty eight in Columbia hadn’t been all that much of a hassle. He had picked up a decent amount of the Spanish from Rico and Jorge already and was lucky enough that his short sentence had been made even shorter by breaking out after using his charisma to make flimsy alliances with some shady folks. But seeing some of the other inmates locked away in grimy cells behind beams thicker than his fist sent a chill down his spine as he realized he was a little more out of his depth here. Because he only now did he realize he wasn’t on earth anymore and it wasn’t just other people he was going to have to deal with in here, there were mean tentacled monsters that eyed him like he was their next meal, three headed brutes that were more teeth than face and had biceps as big around as his chest, and guys covered in enough spikes to make a porcupine jealous.

Stan began to break out in a cold sweat as he began to wonder what his own cellmate looked like. Because if one thing was to be sure, they weren’t going to be human. Oh no, he should’ve fought harder when he had the chance, he thought as his heart pounded like it was trying to rip itself free from the confines of his ribcage. Was Ford coming for him? He had to be coming for him, surely. Actually, screw that guy, he was the reason he was in this mess in the first place. But no, he couldn’t panic yet. He was Stanley Pines, the best conman the world had ever seen and he was going to break out of here if it was the last thing he ever did. This prison would never be the same after he left it and he’d make sure of it. All he had to do was turn on his charm and convince these guys he was going to be the best thing that had ever happened to them. 

His fake confidence did much to ease his anxiety as one of the two droids escorting him stopped in front of a particular cell and just like that, his nerves were back once he saw the stripped paint and teeth marks going all up and down the bars. Inside was barren except for a toilet, bench, and bunk bed that was much too large for someone his size. To make matters even worse, there was something big sleeping away on the top bunk and it made him gulp. He was swiftly uncuffed and tossed inside and the door shut quickly behind him, as if even the lifeless droids were afraid of what was on the other side. 

Stan’s knees and palms hit the rough concrete from the shove and immediately he knew they would bruise. The sound of the squeaking cell door opening and closing in quick succession unfortunately made the scaly thing on the top bunk unfold itself with a sleepy stupor and climb down onto the floor as Stan picked himself up and tried his best to look relaxed and open as his legs wobbled while he tried to not think about how the thing he was locked in here with was massive enough to swallow him whole. They stretched out until their head scraped the ceiling, their piercing orange eyes being the only detail he was able to make out from the shadow they were cast in. Well, that and its long snout that was currently curled upwards in a growl and full of knife-shaped teeth.

I’m in trouble. A terrified voice in Stan’s head cried.

Chapter Text

Stan was currently working desperately to keep his fight-or-flight system from making him do or say something drastic, considering he was currently locked in a concrete and metal box with just about the scariest beast he had ever encountered. His cellmate, a dark green, bipedal crocodilian three times his height with six arms, a nasty looking snout full of teeth, deeply piercing orange eyes, and a bite taken out of the side of their snout sized him up with scrutiny. A long muscular tail wrapped halfway around the room and despite the high ceiling and spacious floor plan, they still appeared to be too large for where they were being held. They placed their bottom pair of hands on their jumpsuit tied around their waist and narrowed their eyes at him suspiciously with a low growl.

“Uh, sorry to wake ya, it wasn’t my fault. Honest! Those jerks just threw me in here, I woulda tiptoed if I was allowed.” Stan chuckled nervously.

He took an anxious half step back as he was towered over, tripped over his bunkmate’s tail, and landed on his behind. Well so much for a good first impression. I guess I’ll have to improvise. His mind raced as fast as his heart sped.

But before he could say anything to stop himself from surely being untimely bit in half, the creature’s expression softened and easily asked, “Oi, what’s good, mate?” In a deep, throaty voice with the thickest British accent Stan had ever heard. “My name’s Greetz, what might you call yourself? An’ sorry ‘bout me tail, it tends to get in tha way.” He inquired with an outstretched scaled hand with claws long enough to easily gore him.

Stan took the hand and it enveloped his own as he was hoisted to his feet like he was a doll. Seeing that he currently wasn’t in the stomach of this guy and had instead just been helped up by him, he jumped on the opportunity to continue to try and save his skin. “Stanford Pines, at your service, but you can call me Stan.” He smiled, hoping his brother’s intergalactic criminal record would ring a bell and earn him some credibility with the guy. “I uh, love what you’ve done with the place, by the way.” He forced a laugh, gesturing to the claw marks decorating the walls as if they were part of an abstract piece of art. 

“Haha! You’ve got a sense of humor, do ya then?” Greetz laughed, slapping him on the back and sending him to the floor. “Oi, sorry ‘bout that. Lemme help ya up.” He said, once again picking him off the floor like he weighed nothing.

“Don’t mention it. So uh, you’re a pretty strong guy huh?” Stan smiled, trying not to show his wince as he rolled his sore shoulder where his new friend had hit him.

“You don’t know tha half of it, mate. I run this place, I do.” Greetz nodded enthusiastically as he sat back on the bottom bunk, which sagged heavily under his weight. He pointed to the bed above him and informed Stan, “Oh by tha way, top bunk’s mine.”

Stan nodded along, trying not to let his primal fear show through to his face. “You look like you’re in charge all right.” He held his hands out and framed Greetz inside them. “So how’d a guy like you wind up with a scar like that?” He inquired, pointing to the chunk taken out of the croc’s snout. Somewhere among all the terrified screaming his brain was doing, a spark of glee burned brightly. This guy seemed like a good one to have with him, all he needed to do was not get on his bad side and maybe everything could work out.

Greetz’s eyes darkened and his voice became even lower. “Oh, me old bunkmate. Yeah I didn’t like ‘em. We had a bit of a scuffle, we did, an’ uh, well I made sure it was just me in here for a while, if ya catch me drift.”

Stan visibly paled and questioned apprehensively, “But you like me, don’t you?”

Greetz spread out all six of his arms and exclaimed, “Well of course I do. You wouldn’t still be standin’ here if I didn’t.” He shook his head and looked off at the wall as he said, “Now me last cell mate, he was a real sourpuss, he was. Always complainin’ ‘bout the quality of our jumpsuits like he didn’t realize he was in prison. Like I dunno ‘bout you mate, but complainin’ ‘bout it ain’t gonna change it none so just shut it.”

“Well I mean… I’ve always wanted to dress head to toe in piss yellow.” Stan said with sarcastic cheer, finding himself starting to be able to finally relax some.

That really got Greetz to laugh and his roar shook the walls. “Oh I like ya, Stan. I really do. I’m gonna show you around every which part o’ this place and you and I, we’re gonna have ourselves a great time. So how long you in for?”

Stan took a seat at the steel bench on the opposite side of the room from Greetz and scratched his head. “Uh I dunno, they never told me. All I knew was one minute I’m minding my own business and the next, I have a bag over my head and I’m being tossed in a cell.”

Greetz whistled long and low. “So for life then. Yep, you must be a real tough bastard if you got that treatment. Heh, no wonder they stuck you in here with me, they probably wanted ya dead. Ha!” 

Several different emotions came to him all at once. First was the shock that made his heart come to a screeching halt in his chest because as far as he was aware, Greetz had just told him he was stuck here for the rest of his life. Well, until he escaped that was. Then there was the dreadful realization that this would have been Ford’s fate if he was the one to be captured instead of him. Heck, the droids had mistook him for his brother and that was why he was there in the first place. Man, was Ford okay? He really hoped he was. Nevermind the fact that Ford had spent the last three decades here and was probably doing just fine, he was still worried for him, as pissed off at him as he was. To think that the last thing to have happened between them was a short and curt conversation born from anger made a part of him want to crumble. But not all was lost, not at all, because if there was one thing that Stan Pines was good at, it was not knowing when to give up.

“Have you ever thought about breaking outta here, Greetz?” Stan prodded.

“Oh now there’s an original thought.” He smirked with a flick of his tail.

“No, I mean seriously. I betcha if we work together we can figure something out.” Stan persisted, leaning forward in his seat.

The croc scoffed. “I dunno ‘bout you Stan, but I rather like it here. But alright, I’ll humor ya.”

Stan sighed. “I knew I could count on ya, Greetz. Now…”

But before he could get another word out, a high pitched siren trumpeted down the whole hall and every cell door in the block slid open. Now Stan was no idiot, he knew an opportunity when he saw one and he wasn’t going to question what was going on so he sprung to his feet and made a beeline for the railing with a wide grin. Maybe if he was fast enough, he could race back down the hall and make it to the visitor’s center in time because those tended to be close to a prison’s main entrance and if he made it there, then who knew how far he could get before he was caught. The old man jumped the railing, not even bothering with the stairs but was caught by the back of his jumpsuit by Greetz’s reptilian hand. 

“Hey, what’s the big idea?” Stan shot as he was set back on his feet.

Greetz held up a scaly hand and silenced him with a smirk. “Listen Stan, it’s rather apparent you don’t even know the first thing ‘bout Cell Block 39. That was just tha dinner bell an’ now we’re goin’ to tha mess hall. How ‘bout I show ya the ropes, then ya can give me a comedy show with the masta’ plan o’ yours.”

The human looked around and saw that every other alien inmate here was also leaving their cell and headed in the opposite direction he had wanted to go. “I’m listening…” He said gravelly while he crossed his arms and resigned to follow Greetz to the mess hall.

The crocodilian grinned. “Heh, now let me think…”

He was still miles away. Traveling on foot would take Ford days to get to his twin, no doubt, but he knew couldn’t afford to use public transportation anymore as he kept at a brisk walk in the evening shadows of an alleyway as he checked the map on the droid’s arm yet again. It was too risky to be seen around so many others, the news of “his” arrest had already been broadcasted from every station in the city and now he was on the public’s mind. The last thing he needed was for someone to mistake him for Stan and rat him out by thinking he was dangerous enough to have escaped prison. It vexed him that this had even happened in the first place. If Stan had only just listened to him, they would have still been in the Library of Truth searching for the next step in their journey. 

That thought process sounds dangerously close to the old you . Something told him in the back of his mind and he rolled his eyes at it. This was different, he rationalized, Stan actually had no good reason to avoid his warnings this time. But he held onto the thought, ensuring he wasn’t going to slip back into his previous thought patterns with his brother, even if he was angry with him. Because his knuckleheaded brother was in trouble and it was making him worry.

Enough emotional analysis, I need a plan to rescue Stan. He thought to himself as he lifted a manhole cover, feeling his knees and lower back make their discomfort known in their old age. He climbed down the iron rung ladder as the smell of methane soured the air and covered the opening once more while a few curious bypassers eyed him. There were too many people up there, he would be safer down here and if the sewer system in this dimension was built in a logical manner, which he hoped it was, it would follow beneath the streets anyways. That would mean these tunnels could hopefully connect directly to the prison’s waste system and let him inside without anyone even knowing.

His boots hit the stream of rushing waste water at the bottom and aided by the reddish light of the screen on the droid’s arm, he flipped on the flashlight to his Multipurpose Portaling Device to brighten the otherwise dim space. It was much too humid for his liking and tiny beads of water were already beginning to condensate on his goggles but he wiped them off and got his bearings anyways. There were only two ways for him to go in the circular tunnel, forwards and backwards. Since he obviously wasn’t looking to go back the way he just came, he crouched down low and started down the concrete piping leading forward. Rechecking the path he had to take on the severed arm, he saw that Squadmate 4 had moved to an area in the prison named Droid Maintenance while Squadmate 3 was currently in a room the map labeled Cell Block 39 Prisoner Property Storage. A grin flashed underneath his mask. This was perfect, he knew which cellblock Stan was being kept in now and all thanks to the droids’ trackability.

Wait- dammit all, how could he have been so stupid? He was easily trackable too with this arm in his possession. The realization hit him with a jolt that made him bump his head against the top of the pipe and he muttered a curse. Underneath the next manhole cover, he was able to stand up to his full height and quickly memorize the path to the prison. After that, he slammed the arm down onto the slimy ground and stomped it to pieces, rendering it untrackable. He sighed in relief at the potential crisis he had averted and made a left turn, now just that much closer to Stanley.

Days passed, and Stan fell into a comfortable routine with Greetz. His schedule consisted of waking up and eating breakfast, completing some sort of menial labor until lunchtime, consuming said lunch, an hour of yard time, staying in his cell until dinner, having dinner, and then finally lights out while scheming a prison break all the while. He kept his head low and his ears and eyes open, his street smarts allowing him to remain safe and unassuming, mostly by keeping Greetz entertained. The passage of time had allowed him to get a good grasp on the layout of Sector 39 of the prison and memorize when guards changed, the patrol routes they took, and how many of them there were in a given room at any time. Greetz had been surprisingly helpful at teaching him the basics of the culture in alien prison too.

“...An’ finally there’s the Cipher Cutlists, what a weird bunch, they usually hang out in their own corner and don’t bother nobody so long as I’m around.” Greetz said through a mouthful of slop that was a sorry excuse for food while he took up two seats in the mess hall. “They’re always lookin’ for trouble though and won’t hesitate to jump ya if they think they got a chance, so keep stayin’ close to me.”

Stan followed the gaze of his new friend that sat across from them and sure enough, there was a group of about five or six alien creatures, wiry in appearance with eyes just barely holding onto the brink of sanity, all huddled around each other and whispering in hisses. Greetz continued, “If ya strain your ears, sometimes ya can hear what they’re talkin’ about. But they’re all looney, I’m tellin’ ya. Ain’t worth your time unless ya just wanna confuse yourself with their nonsense.”

Stan poked at his plate full of a beige food with an oatmeal consistency that actually smelled and tasted nothing like oatmeal at all. “Well that’s… nice. So is that why we’re sittin’ a table over from ‘em?” 

So far, Stan had learned a lot of things from Greetz, some useful and some not. For example, inmates were separated based on their natural circadian rhythm and Cellblock 39 was for creatures whose home planets had a day-night cycle varying from eighteen to twenty eight hours. Not particularly useful but interesting. What was useful was learning what guys to avoid, like the super spiked freak he had passed earlier. Apparently he shot boiling, acidic blood from his eyes and was easily provoked. There were several rival gangs just in their block alone and Greetz had gotten it through his head that every single one of them would be very bad for him if he tried to get in with them and he should stick to himself. Because apparently, they had to recruit him if he wanted the time of day from them but since he was with Greetz, nobody would dare touch him. Unfortunately for him, this meant they weren’t going to be resources available to him for a breakout. At least not without some help from his friend.

“Yea,” Greetz grunted, “ima barrier between ‘em and the rest of this bloody place but now you are too. Neva trust anyone who’s eva’ associated themselves with that demon, ya hear?”

“I wasn’t planning on it, I’m not that stu-” Stan stopped himself as his neurons fired and immediately made him think of the one person he did know that had associated with Cipher. Had he really been stupid to trust Ford? Ever since he made the decision to, he had left his home in Gravity Falls, nearly gone insane and died in a cave, and was now trapped in alien prison until he either kicked the bucket or broke out. His know-it-all brother had put him through a lot of pain, despite his assurances that he knew exactly what he was doing, and he felt like Ford was dragging him through the mud because he thought he was useless. It was infuriating.

“What is it?” The croc questioned.

Stan shook his head. “Eh, it’s nothin’. So, you say you’re in charge of this place. That means people probably owe you favors, right? Favors you could use to say, I dunno, help your newest friend taste freedom?”

“Heh, when I said I run this place, I more so meant I’m big enough for folks to leave me alone.” He shrugged as he leaned back in the two stools and lifted the other end of the table slightly off the ground.

Stan, who was the only other one sitting at the table, felt his feet leave the floor and he countered, “And I bet that means you’re big enough to bully someone here into doin’ some of your bidding too, right?” while he ate another spoonful of his mediocre dinner. 

“Ah I don’t really feel like it.” Greetz yawned.

“Aw c’mon, help me out here,” the human grumbled as he reached out to stop his tray from sliding forward, “cuz here’s what I’m thinking,” Stan said in a low tone, leaning in closer as he glanced at one of the several cameras in the room, “The magnet on the back of those droid’s  hands is what opens and closes all the doors in this place. If I can just get my hands on one, I’ll be golden. I could hit up the Droid Control Center, turn off the bots, and then walk outta here with all my stuff.”

The croc finished stretching out and returned the table to its default state and parallel with the floor while a laugh rose in his throat. “An’ how do ya expect to get from here to tha control centa? Like listen bloke, you’d be swarmed before ya got to even leave the mess hall.”

“That’s the thing, I dunno.” Stan sighed, resting his chin against his palm. “The vents are too small for a guy like me and I have yet to see any holes I could take advantage of in the programmed patrols.”

“That’s me point Stan, we ain’t got what it takes.” Greetz huffed as he folded his arms.

“But if we got someone small enough in the vents, someone you could harass into helping us, then we’d be in business.” He smiled, stretching his hands out.

“Oi, cut it out. Jus’ accept your lot in life, it’ll be much easier for ya.” Greetz growled, leaning in dangerously close to him.

Stan held his arms up defensively as he shrunk away from the reptilian. “Awright geez, noted.” 

The crocodile broke eye contact with him and ate in silence while staring at his food. It was odd seeing such a drastic mood change from his cheery buddy and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. So he also continued his meal quietly as his ears picked up on the whisperings of the Cipher Cultists.

“...Yeah, but wouldn’t it be cool to meet Him in person?” One of them was saying excitedly.

The other scoffed and clicked its beak. “ You don’t have what it takes, I know because we were planning a pilgrimage to Him before I got arrested. I was the only one who made it out of there alive that night.”

A third rolled its one eye and hissed, “Oh would you shut up about Dimension 60-D already? We all know you were the one who sealed off the tunnels to the super secret temple where you kept all your super secrets.”

The second retorted, “Well, it’s only thanks to me that the temple is still operational and that those who evaded capture are able to still practice Ciphertology in the first place. I may never live to see the Nightmare Realm, but they just might.”

“Blasphemy,” A fourth grumbled, “Master Cipher would never bless us with His presence even if they were to ever succeed.”

“Maybe not you,” the second one snapped back, its grey feathers puffing out agitatedly, “your mind would crumble under the Cavern’s presence. If only we were in Dimension 60-D, I could show you my research, my plan. It was foolproof I tell you, foolproof.”

“Then why are you here and not in the Nightmare Realm?” The fourth spat.

“Because I got arrested you little faithed idiot!” The avian cultist yelled.

Stan so desperately wanted to butt in to their conversation, ask them questions, and figure out exactly what it was that feathered freak was going on about. It was a lead, no doubt, and one he was curious to find out more on. Whether it was actually anything good or just the delusions of a very lost Bill worshiping soul was to be determined, but worth an investigation at least.

The bell overhead screeched and signaled that dinner was over and everyone was to return to their cells, causing Stan to jump and Greetz to snicker at him. The various groups and factions around the mess hall gradually got out of their seats and began to trickle out of the room while the croc remained in place, eyeing the cultists that also remained seated where they were. 

“Don’t you even think about it.” Greetz scowled at Stan.

Stan thought he had been eyeing the group of psychos rather stealthily so he furrowed his brows at his bunkmate innocently and asked with a dumb expression, “Huh?”

Greetz narrowed his eyes and leaned in so closely, his nose was practically touching Stan’s. “Don’t act like you don’t know, mate. I seen you stealing glances at those cultists, I saw the way you perked up when they started talkin’ ‘bout that nightmare place. Are you one of ‘em?”

Okay, apparently Greetz was smarter than he looked. He had to diffuse the situation quickly or the oversized reptile that was currently angry at him may just eat him. “What? No wa-ay! You see, my bro and I recently started a cultist hunting business before I got locked away. I’m just used to tuning into their conversations, that’s all.” Stan lied with an honest expression. 

The croc scrutinized him as he cocked his head to one side and Stan tried not to sweat. “Oh alright. Sorry fer doubtin’ ya, but you’re on thin ice.”

The man breathed out an audible sigh of relief while Greetz’s gaze turned back to the table the cultists had been sitting at, which was now empty. The reptilian gasped and climbed to his feet and exclaimed, “Now where’d they go?”

Stan’s head swiveled around the room and he caught just a glimpse of a grey tail feather rounding the corner towards the library. “That way, I just saw ‘em round the corner.” He paused and asked, “But why do you care?”

Greetz exhaled loudly. “They’re being more suspicious than usual an’ that means they’re up ta no good. So come with me, Cultist Hunter. We still have some time before lights out.”

It took three of Stan’s own steps to keep up with each of his bunkmate’s so they crossed the room quickly and peered out into the corridor connecting the library and yard to the mess hall. There were no drones or droids in sight but instead, the cultists were all huddled behind the door to the library as if they were waiting for something. It appeared as though they didn’t have to wait long because only a few seconds later, Stan had to do a double take when a seal in a yellow jumpsuit cautiously waddled out into the hall. The cultists pounced on the animal and surrounded her, beginning to all give kicks and blows as she cried out. 

“No, stop! Please, it hurts!” The animal barked.

“Oh man, Greetz we gotta do somethin’.” Stan hissed.

“HEY! You wanna tussle, do ya? Well tussle with me.” Greetz roared as he charged the cultists.

The attacking group froze for only a second when they saw the twelve meter long crocodile come for them and then they scattered like the bunch of cockroaches they were and left their prey alone. Stan raced up to the sniffling seal and got down on one knee to be at her level. “Hey, are you alright?” 

The small thing wiped her tears away with her white and black dotted flipper and squeaked with a quivering lip, “No, they hate me just because I’m a Paladin.”

Stan raised his eyebrows to the top of his head. “Like to the Axolotl? What in the world are you doing here then?”

She began to cry once more and rested her blubbery head against Stan’s chest. “Yes, I didn’t know talking about Cipher was illegal, I was just trying to warn people about him. Now I’m here and everybody looks scary so I tried to hide in the library b-but they m-must’ve known where I was.”  

Stan patted her shoulder, or what he assumed was her shoulder underneath all her blubber. He really didn’t sign up for being a therapist today but he figured it would be just plain mean to not at least try to comfort her. “Hey now, it’s gonna be okay, you have us now.” He awkwardly paused, trying to think of something else to say. “So uh, how long have you been here?” 

“I j-just got here today.” The seal sniffled.

Must not be part of any gangs yet then . Stan thought, spying an opportunity.

“What’s your name, pipsqueak?” Greetz asked from where he leaned up against the wall with all six of his arms crossed.

“Me-Meeyla.” She whimpered. 

“Well Me-Meeyla, Stan is right, you do have us now. I am Greetz.” The croc said kindly.

“No, it’s just Meeyla.” Meeyla gently corrected.

Stan told her excitedly as he stood upright, “Well Meeyla, you found the right guys. We’re planning to break outta here.”

“No, that’s what you are doing. Thin. Ice. Stan.” Greetz growled.

The human ignored his bunkmate and instead put on his best salesman voice. “In fact, you’re exactly what we’ve been looking for.”

The seal’s large, soft eyes brightened. “Really?”

Greetz scoffed at the human, “They got you, just accept it already.”

Stan ignored him again. “Really, really sister. You see, I’m too big to fit up in those air vents but you seem like the perfect size. How would you like to sneak into the Droid Control Center and turn off all the robotic security in this place for me? Then we could practically just walk out of here.”

“Oh, that sounds just delightful. Not to mention, you just saved my skin back there so I probably owe you this.” Her smile faltered and she shook her head softly. “But you see, I’m no good at fin-to-hand combat, I’d probably need my bells first to get past whatever security is already in the control center.”

“Then grab your bells first, no biggie.” Stan shrugged.

“An’ what about tha security in the storage centa?” Greetz scrutinized with a raised brow.

“As long as you can swing a soap bar in a sock, we can-” Stan was cut off when a squadron of droids turned the corner.

“RETURN TO YOUR CELLS.” They commanded.

“-meet in the yard tomorrow and teach you the ropes.” Stan told her with a wink, walking backwards as he made a pair of finger guns.

“Well okie dokie then, see you tomorrow.” She waved as she winked back and hopped down the hall and out of sight.

“Greetz, this plan is never going to work if you don’t help.” Stan said steadily from where he laid on the bottom bunk ten minutes later.

A great weight shifted above him, followed by a low hissing noise. 

“Greetz c’mon, why does it matter to you? You’re already here for life, just like me. Don’t you want to be free?” He bargained.

“Y’know mate, I’m startin’ to think I don’t like ya.” The croc shot.

“Don’t be difficult, you oversized handbag.” He grumbled.

Greetz hung his toothy snout over the bed and uncurled his tail so it fell to the floor. “Yeah, why not?” The reptile seethed.

Stan sat upright in bed and looked his cellmate in the eye. “Because I want to see my family again. Don’t you?” He fumed.

A painful expression came to Greetz’s face and he spat, “I’ve got no family left, Stan. You may have somebody but I’ve got no one, no one! There’s nobody for me to go back to, because that’s what happens when the Multiversal Alliance takes over yer dimension and turns yer own family against ya for rebellin’ against ‘em cuz you were young an’ stupid. So they throw you away and forget about the key. Me own fatha’ doesn’t even visit me.”

The old man reared back as if he had been struck. Well, he might as well have been with the way Greetz’s outburst hit him. “Greetz,” he started softly, “I know how you feel.” 

“No ya don’t.” The croc snorted and rolled over in bed. 

Stan sighed, was he really doing this? Telling his life story to someone who was no more than a good acquaintance? Greetz had taken him under his wing and had been almost nothing but kind since he had met him, so yes he concluded, he was doing this. “Yes, I do. My own pa hasn’t spoken with me in over forty years. I was on my own before I was even an adult, disowned by the ones I cared about. So yes, I know how you feel.”

“Well Stan, I wasn’t exactly what you’d call good bloke on my home planet and I certainly am worse now.” He said softly, one of his arms coming to the scar on his snout. “I can’t save nobody, I’ve tried it already.”

“Well that’s a load of bullshit that Meeyla and I would argue against.” He said.

“Heh, maybe yer right, Stan.” Greetz half-laughed.

“So you can either grovel here until you rot away, or you can help a ‘bloke’ like me and a seal like Meeyla be free. It’s up to you.” Stan stated, knowing what it was like to feel hopeless, like no one cared for him and all was for naught. He hoped his friend could hear that in his voice.

There was a minute of silence that passed and Stan had started to wonder if the reptile had elected to ignore him when he spoke up. “Okay Stan, I’ll help ya out.”

Stan, Greetz, and Meeyla all sat around together at dinner the next day waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Stan’s leg bounced anxiously as Meeyla’s whiskers twitched and Greetz sat still like a cool statue, completely unfazed. The human had just about finished going over the plan with his companions for what felt like the fifteenth time today and was feeling about as full of nervous energy as live wire with an anxiety disorder. 

“So just remember,” he reminded the seal, “sneak your bells, get to the control center, and find the kill switch. Easy as that.”

“I know, Stan. That doesn’t make it any less terrifying.” Meeyla gulped, her eyes darting around and scanning for danger.

An unsuspecting inmate walked by, giving Greetz a wide berth. But it wasn’t wide enough and the croc put his tail in his path, tripping him and causing his food tray to go clattering to the ground. Stan and Meeyla shared a worried look as their friend put the first part of their plan into action.

“Hey, watch it pal.” Greetz growled, abruptly standing out of his two seats and looming over his target.

The slimy creature backed away, raising her hooved hands disarmingly. “Hey, just leave me alone.”

“I don’t think I can do that.” He snarled.

“If you touch me Greetz, the rest of my gang will be on you in a second.” She tried bravely countering.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that.” Greetz smirked, picking up a handful of his own meal and chucking it right in her face. 

She sharply inhaled and scowled as she wiped the food off of her face and threw it right back at him. Greetz retaliated by picking her up and throwing her on top of a nearby table and splattering her and her rival gang with the food she landed on top of. Said table erupted into howls of fury and the flinging of food, which got the attention of her buddies as they all stood up and headed over to back her up. Stan threw a fistful of slop at a stranger across the room and quickly turned back around, acting innocent. The stranger angrily looked around to see the other two gangs that had been flinging food and fists at one another and retaliated by smashing their metal tray down on the head of the one they suspected of doing the throwing. They were then pummeled into another group, which shoved them back and before long, the spontaneous violence had spread throughout the entire mess hall and everybody was taking part in the violence.

“Food fight!” Stan roared for good measure and threw his tray into the middle of the chaos. 

Greetz took that as his cue and he used the sustenance on Meeyla’s tray to cover the mess hall cameras in a sticky coating of beige prison slop. Stan jumped up on top of the table as the crocodilian protected him and Meeyla from anyone daring to stop them and he lifted the seal up in his hands.

“Y’know, you’re a lot heavier than you look.” Stan grunted as he lifted the woman over his head atop the table and waited for her to pull the cover off of the overhead vent.

“Dat’s whut vey ull say.” Meeyla responded through the vent cover in her jaws. She heaved her front flippers into the opening and wiggled herself into the ventilation shaft in the ceiling, kicking the cover back down for Stan to slip back into place, which he did so effortlessly.

“Do you have the map? And your weapon?” Stan quickly asked her.

She dug a napkin, one that Stan had hand drawn all of Sector 39 from memory on, out of her light yellow jumpsuit and nodded with it in her lips. Then she patted another pocket and responded, “Got them both, I’ll be quick,” and hopped out of sight.

He gave her a thumbs up and hoped no one saw him sneak her into the ventilation system amongst all the chaos. Just as he jumped down off the table, dozens of droids and drones began to file into the mess hall to put a stop to the all out food fight and brawl that had exploded in the room. The energy among the prisoners was palpable and soon the fight went from inmate vs inmate to inmate vs robot as the confrontation turned to a riot. Stan and Greetz retreated to their own corner while the rest of the place went wild, hoping to remain out of the attention of everyone until Meeyla was able to disable the security. Stan scanned the space for any signs of the cultists, hoping he could try to get at least some info out of them before he may have to make a run for it. But much to his displeasure, he found the group on the far side of the room beating a droid into submission across a sea of flying fists.

Stan eyed the two story tall croc beside him that was currently snarling away a trio that was feeling lucky and questioned, “Hey Greetz, what’re the odds you’ll clear a path for me to the other side of the room?”

“An’ get me arm bitten off? No way, mate.” Greetz grumbled as he sent an inmate that had strayed a little too close flying with a good smack of his tail.

As if on cue, the arm of a security bot came flying directly at Stan’s feet and he scooped it up like it was a precious gem. “Huh, maybe we didn’t need Meeyla after all.” He grinned as he stared down at his ticket out of this place.

“I wouldn’t be too sure ‘bout that one, Stan. If we leave here without the droids disabled, we’d be too exposed. Believe it or not, we’re safer here where all these pillocks can keep us separate from tha guards.” Greetz argued.

Stan groaned. “Why do ya hafta take the fun outta everything?” 

“Because look, the bots are startin’ ta get ‘em.” He said back, gesturing to the fighting that was beginning to dwindle. As more robots flooded into the mess hall, it seemed as though a growing number of prisoners were beginning to turn themselves over or be brought down fighting. 

“GET ON THE GROUND.” A half dozen droids and a handful of drones commanded the two of them as they were surrounded.

Stan held the length of arm out in front of him like a sword and snarled, “I don’t think so ya rusty pigs, party’s not over yet.”

The bots raised their batons as the drones flashed him with beams of white that made him squeeze his eyes shut in pain and then he was being lifted off the ground and held protectively in Greetz’s arms, he recognized. 

“Go to hell.” The alien spat at them.

The batons opened up into tasers, pointed directly at the croc and as he raised his tail to give them a good whacking, their lights dimmed and they folded up on themselves as the drones crashed to the floor and their blades stopped spinning. The room erupted into a chorus of whoops and cheers and some prisoners began stomping on the lifeless bodies of their oppressors while others darted out of the room in an attempt to escape.

“Huh, well that was fast.” Stan deadpanned as he was set back on the ground.

“Suspiciously fast.” Greetz agreed.

“Well I’m not gonna stand around any longer, c’mon.” The old man stressed and ran out of the cafeteria. 

The ground rumbled behind him and he didn’t need to turn around to know it was Greetz following him. Stan’s shoes slapped against the tile and as he rushed down the hall to the cellblock’s prisoner storage room, Greetz used part of what remained of Meeyla’s meal to cover the cameras while they passed squadrons of curled up droids and their accompanying drones. The odd inmate or two was scattered about in the hall, smashing drones against droids with gleeful smiles on their faces. Stan had to agree with them, it was great being able to dash freely down the corridor as his captors were helpless to stop him.

A childlike joy filled Stan while he ran past them and he couldn’t help but laugh, “Haha, suckers!” And point at them triumphantly.

The duo came to a locked barred door at the end of the hall that kept prisoners away from the entrance to the storage space and Stan made quick work of it by using his new magnetic key on the back of the metallic disembodied hand. A buzzer sounded and the door slid open with a squeal, allowing them to walk right up to the rusted door of the room that had kept his belongings from him for much too long. His key unlocked the door easily and then he and Greetz were inside, the man sorting through rows upon rows of dusty shelves of boxes of inmates’ personal items as the croc took out the cameras.

“Aha! Come to papa.” Stan grinned as he reached for a box labeled ‘ Stanford Pines ’ and tore the lid off to see everything was still intact. “Oh yes I missed you two.” He laughed as his fingers brushed over his knuckle dusters.

Stan tossed the robotic arm to Greetz and instructed him, “Go find your stuff, ima change outta this.”

The reptile only grunted, “I don’t got no stuff,” and turned the corner, his tail dragging behind him. Stan changed into his street clothes quickly, a Hawaiian shirt and a pair of cargo shorts, and donned his brass knuckles. Changing back into old clothes after a prison break was always a great feeling, like it symbolized him gaining his freedom back. But he wasn’t out of here yet, he, Meeyla, and Greetz still needed to make it to the hangar and snag a hover car. Speaking of which, the seal and Greetz came back around the corner just then, much to his surprise.

Seeing the confusion on his face, the croc explained, “I found ‘er pinned against the floor by a droid. Said it fell on ‘er.”

“I don’t know who turned off the droids, Stan. It wasn’t me.” Meeyla clarified softly, now out of her jumpsuit and in a white denim vest. A single jingle bell hung from her neck by a length of pink silk and her handbell stuck out of her vest pocket to be easily reachable by her mouth. 

“Well c’mon then, talkin’ ‘bout it won’t do us any good.” Greetz commented and scooped the seal up in his arms and headed for the door.

“Right.” Stan agreed, following behind them.

Across the cell block they went, zigzagging down hallways and opening doors to make it to the hangar all while avoiding the other inmates in an ever growing jailbreak. Stan’s legs were starting to grow tired and let him know just how upset with him they were by burning but at last, they reached the end of the final hall. The only thing standing between them and the hangar now was one last barred gate. He could see the hover cars lined up all neatly, just waiting for them to run away in one of them. Just like always, their robotic key unlocked the door and Greetz, still holding Meeyla in his arms, ran through. 

“Here we go.” Stan muttered and ran for the opening. 

A siren blared and the lighting went red as the gate slammed shut right in his face. “Hey, what the? Greetz, open the door.” Stan yelled as a squadron of droids came back to life behind him.

“Stan!” Meeyla fretted as Greetz held the bot’s hand against the lock but nothing happened.

“Ah no. This whole place is on lockdown.” The croc growled, trying the door over and over to no avail.

The old man was grabbed by the shoulder by a cold, steel hand and he whirled around and socked the droid right in the jaw with his brass knuckles. “Then d-don’t wait for me Greetz, get Meeyla outta here. I’ll find another way.” Stan cried, pummeling another droid in the face. 

Meeyla squirmed out of Greetz’s grasp and hopped up to the door. “Stan wait, at least take these with you then.” She said warmly as she slipped her jingle bell off from around her neck. She picked it up in her mouth and then grabbed her handbell in her jaws too and stuck her snout between the bars so he could take them both.

Stan punched another droid away and then crouched onto her level and cupped his hands under her snout. “What- really? You sure?” 

Meeyla dropped them into his hands and looked seriously into his eyes with her own puppy dog ones. “For protection. And if we don’t see each other again, then it’s something to remember us by.” She sweetly smiled.

Greetz turned his head to the sounds of metal feet running towards them in the hangar. He scooped Meeyla up with two hands and nodded, “We gotta go little one, see ya ‘round, Stan,” and sprinted off towards the nearest hover car. 

Stan looked down at the bell tied to a length of pink silk and the silver handbell in his hands and realized they looked exactly like the ones Mabel carried everywhere with her and that made his throat suddenly decide it wanted to tighten. With a watery sigh, he stuffed the bells into his pocket and didn’t wait any longer, instead he ran back the way he had come and hoped he could loop around and come out a hangar side door. Something at the back of his mind told him that wasn’t going to be happening.

A voice belonging to a Doeminix came over the intercom. “Good evening inmates, I am Warden Buckley. You may have noticed that I got the guards running again. I can assure you that if you surrender yourselves now, no harm may come to you. Please lay on the floor with your upper limbs behind your neck. Thank you.”

“Yeah, like I’m gonna listen to that.” Stan huffed as he made a right turn and darted straight past a group of prisoners in a fight with a pair of drones. “Man, talk about timing. I was so close I could taste it.” He complained to no one in particular as his lungs wheezed.

Stan made a left turn, ran straight into a barred gate and opted to continue straight instead. It was frustrating, only five minutes earlier and that obstacle would have been no big deal. Now he felt like a rat in a maze, forced to run into dead end after dead end as he kept running, throwing the occasional punch or ducking out of the way of a droid. Honestly at this point he was very lost, not knowing where to go. All he knew was that if he stopped, he was as good as dead. Greetz and Meeyla were his only friends here and they were gone, hopefully to ride off into the sunset, so going back to his cell and having to endure a roll of the dice on his new cellmate could spell death. Desperately he prayed they would save themselves and never think about him again. But he was really tiring now and he had three drones right on his butt and his left ankle was really starting to hurt for some reason and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could even go. Stan rounded another corner and in the process, ran directly into someone before he could even stop himself and sent both of them to the ground.

Shutting off the prison’s defensive systems had been child’s play to Stanford, which was saying something because even he knew he was a lousy hacker. But what really irked him now was just how quickly the warden had managed to get them running again and now he was sprinting through the halls searching blindly for Stan. He dashed into a right turn and in doing so, collided with someone and fell onto his back. A jolt of irritation went through him, why couldn’t these damn prisoners watch where they were going? His head snapped up to get a good look at the idiot who had plowed right into him and his jaw dropped.

“Ford?!” Stan exclaimed from the ground, his eyes wide as dinner plates.

“Stan?!” Ford gasped as he scrambled to his feet. “What are you doing here?”

“Breaking myself out, what are you doing here?” He questioned bewilderedly.

“Breaking myself in!” Ford cried as he hefted his brother up. 

Stan wrinkled his nose as his twin patted himself down, looking for something. “Ford, you smell like shit.”

“Yeah well you look like shit. Here, take this.” He said back without missing a beat, tossing Stan some sort of black gun with a pointed golden front.

“What is it?” He questioned, briefly looking the thing over.

“A freeze ray, I’ve been using it to freeze the locks off the gates. Try not to block off any of our exits with it if you would.” Ford informed him as he grabbed him by the hand and yanked him off the direction he had come from.

“Gah!” Stan yelped as Ford practically yanked his arm from his socket. “Sweet Moses Ford, this is exactly the junk I wish you would quit. I’m not an idiot, I can figure out how your nerdy ice gun works and I don’t want you dragging me around everywhere.”

Ford seethed back, “Well it’s necessary when you go off and get yourself arrested, Stanley. Now our entire mission has been compromised! We can’t go back to the library now, we have to leave this dimension entirely thanks to you!” He and Stan shot at a couple of drones coming down the corridor at them and took them right out of the air.

His brother’s words stung like alcohol on a fresh wound because on some level deep down, he knew he was right. “Didja really think you were going to find anything there, Ford? I dunno about you, but I’ve actually done something useful since I got here. This whole dimension here has entirely sanitized itself from Cipher. Because apparently, even talkin’ about him is illegal.”

Ford rolled his eyes at his brother’s misled thoughts about him. Did he think he had been sitting around all week while Stan rotted away? Still, he pushed past his annoyance and asked genuinely, “What do you mean?” 

Stan held on to his next words like they were the most precious things in the world. Giving this information to Ford was crucial, it made him important, it gave him a reason to be there with him. “I met someone, this sweet little Paladin. Got arrested just for speakin’ Bill’s name. So a place like that isn’t gonna have any books explaining how to get to the guy.” He shot down a pair of drones from the air, turning them into blocks of ice. “Which reminds me, while you were out doing who knows what, I did some masterful eavesdropping on a buncha Cipher Cultists in here and they got some sorta secret operation to make it into the Nightmare Realm goin’ on. Sounds like we could check it out.” 

Ford nodded stiffly as they ran, taking in the genuinely useful information. He was proud of Stanley for doing his own detective work and furthering their mission. “Well, I suppose that’s important to hear.” He paused to put a few holes in a quartet of robots before going on with a bit more bite in his voice, “For your information, that ‘who knows what’ I’ve been doing was spending the last week traveling by sewer system to get in here in the first place. I mean honestly Stan, why are you so upset with me? What is it that I did to you, try to keep you safe and help you break out of prison?”

Stan snorted, “Yeah, well look how that’s going for ya. You were the one who insisted on coming here in the first place and for your information, up until this point I’ve done all the breaking out on my own.”

A trio of droids came down the corridor directly towards them, aiming their tasers right at Stan. The man at the business end of the tasers aimed the freeze ray at them with a growl, ready to supercool their circuits to unfunctional levels. 

But just as he pulled the trigger, Ford cried, “Stan, watch out,” and shoved his brother out of the way and took the taser prongs to the chest in the process. 

The force of his brother hitting him threw off Stan’s aim and he decorated the tiled ceiling with a fresh coat of ice instead while he landed heavily on his hip. Cursing in pain, Stan used the wall to help him to his feet and turned the droids to ice cubes as Ford picked the prongs from his sweater, completely unharmed. 

The man in the Hawaiian shirt groaned, rubbing his side and he snapped, “I had that perfectly handled, Ford. Why do you keep doing that?”

A pang of hurt landed directly in the center of Ford’s heart, which was shortly followed by anger. How could Stan possibly be upset with him for saving him? It made no sense. He opened his mouth to respond but before any sound could come out, the hefty chunk of ice hanging from the ceiling gave and crashed heavily to the floor, cracking it open in a line that ran straight in between the two brothers and and exposed the interior of a main water line as fluid began to flood into the hall as the walls shook. The tile beneath the twins’ feet crumbled and they both fell straight into the cracked pipe and were swept away.

The brothers’ bodies were tossed in the swirling of water like a stick in white rapids, hitting the walls and rolling head over heels in the current. In the pitch blackness, any semblance of up or down was lost as the way they were ragdolled, dizzying them to nauseating levels. The meeting of their chest cavities to the concrete edges knocked the wind from their lungs, sending what little air they already had churning into nothing in the blackness. At the mercy of the water, all they could do was pray their journey in the pipe would end before they lost consciousness. The longest thirty seconds in Ford’s life passed and in the back of his mind, he wondered if this was it. His lungs burned, his limbs bruised, and he was so disoriented he wanted to vomit. Then it was over and he and Stan were falling. They hit a pool of water with no discernable bottom and their heads broke the surface, rapidly sucking in air. A short swim to the lip of the pool later, the two men caught their collective breaths as they discovered they had been deposited in some sort of great underground merging of water, with several pipes all flowing to the same pool, which branched off in four different directions. 

“Are you alright?” Ford asked Stan, who nodded tiredly.

“An’ you?” He asked back raspily.

“Fine.” Ford breathed, briefly checking over the Quantum Destabilizer. Everything seemed to still be securely in place, the waterproof metal shell having done its job.

Stan slid down the slimy coated wall and sat, feeling a hot anger begin to simmer behind his eyes once more. “Well good. But seriously Ford, what’s your deal? Do you think I’m smart enough for you, is that it?”

Ford raised his waterlogged goggles off his face, pulling his sopping mop of hair out of his eyes in the process and glared back at his brother. “What on earth would make you think that?” He shot back, completely ignoring the fact that they had both just escaped death moments ago.

Stan pointed a finger at his twin. “You know damn well what I’m talkin’ about, Sixer. Ever since we got here all I’ve heard is nag, nag, nag. Stan do this, Stan we’re doing that. No Stan, you don’t get a say in anything we do because you’re just my idiot brother and I have to make all the decisions for you. You drag me around like I’m a dog on a leash. Do you have any idea how that feels?”

Ford shrank back and a pitiful frown came to his face. “Stan- I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I came across that way.”

Stan exhaled long and low, in a way that ended in a frustrated huff. “How? After telling you to knock it off only a million times, how could you have not gotten it through your thick, metal plated skull?” Seeing Ford look so sad made a part of him break inside but he was too angry at the moment to care for the most part.

“Because you don’t know anything about the Multiverse, Stan!” Ford yelled, his apologetic demeanor quickly replaced by anger. “I needed to protect you and you wouldn’t even listen to me.”

Stan fumed back, hearing Ford’s echo, you wouldn’t even listen , reverberate over and over on the walls, “Oh yeah? Well your protecting feels awfully condescending. Sure I don’t know the Mutliverse like you do, I ain’t stupid enough to not admit to that, but I ain’t helpless either.”

“I know Stan, that’s why I’m proud of you for breaking out of prison on your own. A-and for learning an alien language for me.” His brother cried. 

“Of course yo- wait, you are?” His voice quickly lost steam as he actually processed what Ford had said and he found himself staring up at him rather dumbly. 

“Yes, you’re brilliantly clever.” Ford sighed as the ends of his trench coat dripped.

Clever, Ford thinks I’m clever. Not completely useless then. A cheerful voice sang in his mind as he grinned internally, his previous irritation cast to the wayside.

“Oh. Uh, thanks.” Stan said quietly.

“You’re welcome.” Ford responded curtly, his arms folded as he stared out across the poorly lit, muggy room.

Some silence passed as the two men looked out at the water, listening to the soft rumble of the various artificial waterfalls. Stan gambled a glance at Ford, who was eyeing the far wall with such intensity that he wouldn’t have been surprised if it began to melt. Maybe he should do some talking, he thought, and derail Sixer from whatever doom spiraling train of thought he was on.

“Y’know, I do want to be helpful to ya. And I do listen to you.” Stan said, shattering the quiet.

“You wouldn’t have been arrested if you listened to me. If you want to help, follow my lead.” Ford said bitterly. 

Stan sighed as his cold, wet shirt clung to him and made the choice to leave his anger behind. As righteously pissed off as he felt, he knew dragging it back up would do him no good at this point. They had already done that too many times before and he never liked how it ended. “That’s just the thing Ford, could you lead me in a way that didn’t make me feel shit about myself?”

The expression on Ford’s face softened for a moment as he made eye contact and said, “I apologize for making you feel unworthy, Stanley. If the way I’ve treated you really has hurt, I’m sorry.” His face became anxiety laced and he looked away, putting his hands into his pockets. Stan knew all too well what that meant, Ford was about to say something he didn’t exactly want to but thought needed to be said anyways. Ford continued quietly, “I guess an explanation for my actions would be helpful. So the truth is, I really do just want to protect you. After so much of our lives have been spent apart, can you really blame me for not wishing to lose you again?”

That’s exactly how I feel . Stan thought as his heart softened as his frustration began to melt away. All this time, Ford really was just trying to look out for him in his own misguided way because he cared for him. That sounded like his brother alright.

“No, I guess I can’t.” Stan shook his head. “But for cryin’ out loud Sixer, babyin’ me ain’t helping none.”

Ford shrugged, “Then what do you suggest I do? Because your refusal to dress appropriately for the Multiverse has landed us in this less than ideal situation.”

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well don’t drag me around everywhere for starters. I’ve got legs, I know how ta move. And another thing, I don’t wanna look like a sci-fi bandit day in and day out the way you do, and hounding me about it won’t make me wanna listen.” He took in a breath and bit his lip and then added much more quietly, “But… I’m sorry I got us into this mess.”

“Apology accepted.” Ford said with a small smile and he hummed in thought.” Well, how about a compromise, then?”

The man in the Hawaiian shirt raised a brow, telling his brother to go on. Ford nodded, understanding the nonverbal gesture and continued, “As you’ve learned, blending in is important when there are other people around. So if I promise to let up on my erm, nagging, will you promise to dress appropriately in civilized dimensions?”

Ford could see the gears turning in his twin’s brain as he tilted his head in thought. A solid ten seconds in silence passed, enough for Ford to begin to worry that Stan was going to make him a counter offer. 

But he never did, instead he spoke up, “Sounds like a plan, Sixer.” He dragged his hands down his face and added, “Man, what a mess we are.”

“Agreed.” His brother smirked and offered him a hand up. “Well, do you want to finally get out of here?”

Stan took the six fingered hand and let his brother help him to his feet. He clapped him on the back and remarked, “Sure, why not? I can’t say I’m a big fan of hangin’ around in the sewers anyhow.”

“Perfect.” Ford responded and he began to fidget with his Multipurpose Portaling Device.

“Are you lookin’ for a portal nearby or are ya gonna open one right here?” Stan asked and then proceeded to shake his head to dispel the water from his hair while he waited for an answer. He peered over Ford’s shoulder and watched him work in an attempt to make sense of the gadget.

The other man paused his work and looked over his shoulder to tell his twin, “All the portals are back at the hub and well, we really don’t want to go back there for rather obvious reasons. So we should open a portal to somewhere else… The only question is where. The libraries of Dimension 52 and 3-A are both out. I potentially know of a cultist temple that may be useful, but my information is rather outdated…” He trailed off, rubbing his chin and going through a catalog of dimensions he had visited in his mind, hoping one would be useful to them.

“Oh I know, Dimension 60-D.” Stan stated without missing a beat. Then he clarified when Ford didn’t follow, “The dimension with the cultist temple, the one that supposedly has information on a ticket to the Nightmare Realm. Well that is, if you believe the word of bat shit crazy cultists in prison.”

“Great idea, Stan. Dimension 60-D it is then.” He said with a chuckle and pressed a couple more buttons on his device and informed, “Oh, and be ready to run if this doesn’t work. I’ll try to kick the cartridge into the water and pray that it remains cool long enough for us to get out of the explosion radius. Believe me when I say you do not want to be around a malfunctioning cartridge.”

“Well that just fills me with confidence.” Stan stated sarcastically as he took a few steps away from his brother as his gut squirmed with unease because he knew that Ford and dangerous equipment tended to mix like gunpowder and an open flame. “If that thing explodes into a black hole, I hope you know I’m saving my own ass first.”

Ford stretched the device as far away from his body as he could with it still attached to his wrist and squinted as he waited for either the portal to open or chaos to abruptly erupt. “So Mabel told you that story then?” 

“Yeah, the girl’s a trooper.” Stan responded, taking a few more steps backwards and raising his arms to shield himself as he tried to fill the tense air with casual conversation. 

“Let me tell you, that was not a fun night.” Ford winced. He paused in confusion at his illicit portaling device, something was supposed to have happened by now. Smacking the thing didn’t do anything to help. “Katee better not have given me a dud cartridge.” He grumbled and pressed a little button on the side, harder this time.

Just then, a thin rippling appeared in the air in front of them as if a clear curtain had been split down the middle height wise and distorted the scenery behind it. “Ah, the button was simply stuck.” Ford muttered.

“Didja do it?” Stan questioned, slowly lowering his arms to his side.

“Yes Stanley, Dimension 60-D awaits.” Ford smiled.

Stan rubbed his hands together and grinned, “Perfect.”

Side by side, the brothers stepped through.

Chapter Text

The Christmas season was in full swing in Gravity Falls. Six inches of newly fallen snow blanketed the town, giving the scenery the pleasant sight of winter time magic. At the Mystery Shack, dazzling lights blinked from the roof, courtesy of Soos, while long stretches of ornament dotted garland hung across the halls, twirled up the handrails of the stairs, and draped over the television. A Mabel made wreath of many colors added much needed decoration to the front door and mistletoe hung from nearly every doorway in the house. Standing majestically just beside the TV was the grandiose Christmas tree itself, permeating the smell of pine into the whole room and decked out from head to toe in ornaments in all shapes and sizes with silver and gold tinsel. A white and royal blue patterned tree skirt tied it all together as the twinkling lights, expertly guided through the branches, flashed a rainbow of luminance. 

“What if Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford get home just in time for Christmas? How cool would that be?” Mabel chirped as she watched Pacifica take a tray of gingerbread cookies from the oven. 

Pacifica laughed. “Well that would be just magical.” She set the tray down atop the oven, next to the runed cauldron and added, “You’ve got frosting on your nose, girl.”

“Maybe I want it there, Paz. Have you ever thought of that?” Mabel smiled as she made no effort to wipe the sugary sweetness off her nose.

“What if this darn assignment didn’t keep me from translating the super cool runes we found in an ancient cave?” Dipper rhetorically asked his calculus textbook with a frustrated huff. 

“Nobody does homework on a Sunday afternoon, Dipper. Wait until you have to panic about it tonight and join us right now in making cookies.” Mabel responded, shutting his book closed and wiggling a plain cookie in his face. Not that she didn’t understand his frustration though, she had been practicing the Prophecy Spell like crazy and had gotten nowhere. In fact, she wanted the writing on the walls to be decoded just as badly as he did, if not more, but stressing about it wasn’t going to do them any favors. Now was time for fun.

“Mabel, those need to cool.” Pacifica sighed, jabbing her with an oven mitt covered finger. “But yeah hon, you could use a little fun. Your head’s been full of math all weekend.”

“If you learn too much, it’s gonna leak out of your ears and stain your shirt.” Mabel quipped, making her point by grabbing a piping bag full of green frosting and making a trail of the stuff down the gingerbread man’s head and onto its chest. “See, like this.”

“Ew, gross Mabel.” Dipper laughed.

Just then, Soos walked into the room. “Yup, this nose does not lie. I knew I smelled the delicious scent of the Christmas spirit somewhere.”

“Yeah, and only five more days until Hanukkah!” The brunette cheered while she began to set out different colored bowls of frosting on the table. “Dipper I’m serious, move your school stuff or face confection covered homework.” 

The teen huffed and began to dump his work into his backpack. “I just wish school would go away. Like, just until we can figure out the whole story here. It’s been a week and I’ve hardly had any time to look at any of the pictures we took.”

“Careful what you wish for dawg, Abeulita says if you wish for something out of anger, it may just come true.” Soos said sagely as he helped Mabel transport the decorating materials.

“Yeah, too bad you’re not uncovering these secrets during the summer instead, huh?” Mabel grinned.

“That would be nice.” He nodded and slid out of his seat and left the kitchen to go toss his bag onto the couch.

When Dipper returned, he found it rather easy to forget about his homework as the hours ticked on and dozens upon dozens of cookies were decorated while seasonal music played on Soos’s boombox. At one point, Mabel decided to have an impromptu karaoke session that quickly devolved into a competition to see who could sing the best through a mouthful of frosting. To everybody’s surprise, his own included, Dipper was declared the champion and Mabel made him a gingerbread crown by gluing several of the cookies together with her craft magic. As the sun set and the plates of wintry desserts were set out all over the countertops and table, dishes were cleaned, and a portion of their work was consumed, Dipper did finally remember his calculus assignment and proceeded to panic about getting it done, just like Mabel had said. He stayed at the living room table, chipping away at the math by lamplight, while the girls wished him goodnight and then retired to bed.

This was not where she wanted to be. She knew that for certain as she watched herself in the third person, a black hand slowly closing around her throat as she flew freely in the air, unable to stop her forward momentum. A nonsensical backdrop, like multicolored oil in water, framed her aggressor, Bill, as he began to squeeze the life out of her. His eye was blown wide in surprise but it began to narrow into boiling rage. Just like all her other dreams, she was forced to watch the slowed moment pass like a ghost, the edges of her vision blackened as a wind rushed past her ears. The other Mabel, the one she watched, had an expression that was turning from determination to fear and she got to see every minuscule muscle movement on her face while it happened.

The sun had not yet risen through the frosted window but the first thing Mabel heard when she shot upright in bed was the gentle ambiance of the shower running. So it was morning time at least because Pacifica was getting ready for school, she reassured herself as she threw her feet over the edge of the bed and gripped her sheets with shaking hands. There would be no going back to sleep after such a horrible dream like that, no way. Mabel threw her head back and took the time to take in several deep breaths, calming her mind. 

So now she’d had a dream with Bill in it. What was she to do about that? From what Dipper and Pacifica had described, this had varied greatly from any dream they had with the demon present. Not to mention, it only encompassed approximately one second of real time, just slowed down to a painful level. There had been no threats, no conversing, not even a single word had been spoken. It was like she had been watching someone else’s life, or an alternate reality, just like it always was. So should she even tell Dipper and Pacifica about this? Well no, they probably got nightmares with Bill in them too sometimes. It was just odd.

“You okay?” Pacifica asked, draped in a fluffy pink towel in the doorway.

Mabel more or less jumped out of her skin and stared at Pacifica like a deer caught in the headlights. She felt rather embarrassed to be honest, she didn’t want Pacifica to be there for something she had been privately enduring, but she didn’t let it show. “Yeah, I’m good, it’s just a nightmare. You snuck up on me.” She half-heartedly chuckled.

“You don’t look okay, do you want to talk about it?” Pacifica noted as she opened a drawer to her dresser and began to rifle through her shirts. The Eye Stealer hadn’t managed to actually destroy more than half of her clothing and to her relief, most of her favorite half had been the portion to survive.

The brunette stood out of bed and dug her chromatic journal out from under it. Passing Pacifica as she headed for the restroom, she lied, “It’s okay, I’m better now.”

The blonde questioned a little hesitantly, like she didn’t completely believe her, “Well ok, do you need anything?”

“No, I gotta pee.” Mabel said from over her shoulder, grabbing the knob of the bathroom door. 

She never waited for the other girl’s response and instead locked herself in the bathroom to write down everything she remembered from the dream. Truth was, she did need to actually use the toilet but that could wait. The longer she delayed writing this down, the more likely she was to forget something. If she was going to get to the bottom of all this, she needed to be diligent. It wasn’t every single night that she had one of these eerily realistic, slow-mo dreams. But when she did, she was sure to jot down as much as she could remember. So far she had just had the three, the one with Pacifica and the portal, the one with the Mystery Shack and Dipper, and now this one with her and Bill. There was no discernible story she could pick apart from these fragments, not yet at least. It was all so confusing.

By the time Mabel left the restroom, Pacifica was dressed in a silky button up and knee length skirt with leggings and was waiting by the door. They shared a smile as they passed one another and then Mabel dressed herself in a white sweater with the bust of a reindeer that had a red pompom for a nose, with an accompanying red skirt and candy cane patterned leggings. She threw on her boots, making sure they were laced in red and pulled the unicorn hair cloak over her shoulders. Ever since she had hand washed all the grime from it and given it some much needed mending, it shimmered and sparkled in iridescent shades of blue and purple and was undeniably a beautiful garment. 

Dipper was already making breakfast in the kitchen, fried eggs and toast, and turned around at the approaching noise, hoping to see Pacifica, but furrowed his brows in confusion when he saw Mabel instead. However, he quickly smiled at her and greeted, “Good morning, Mabel. I wasn’t expecting to see you up so early.”

“I’m full of surprises, bro-bro. Is any of that for me?” She grinned back while she wiggled her fingers at the food.

Her brother cracked two more eggs and spilled them into the pan. “Well it is now. You like your yolks runny, right?”

“I want my egg to bleed everywhere when I stab it with my fork.” She nodded, pouring herself a glass of orange juice and taking a seat at the kitchen table.

“You got it.” The teen boy said. 

Pacifica joined them shortly after and brewed herself a cup of black coffee, smiling softly to herself. She could hear Stan’s voice in the back of her head, telling her she was too young to be drinking coffee as she took her first sip and relished in the warmth. Then Soos was there, all dressed up in the Mr. Mystery outfit and he took over for Dipper at the stove so he could join the others at the table. Breakfast was served and the four of them ate contently, making some conversation throughout just as the first rays of the day began to lighten the navy sky.

“Nice to see you up so early, Mabel dawg.” Soos noted.

“Yeah, I’ve gotten into a bad habit of sleeping in ever since I’ve been home.” She replied through a mouthful of egg.

“Well now that you’re up, you can help me open the shack. But only if you feel it in your heart, girl dood.”

“Actually Soos, my heart tells me I should walk with Dipper and Pacifica to school today. Then I can help you when I get back.” She clarified.

“An excellent plan then.” Soos agreed.

Mabel hadn’t told anyone, because truthfully the last thing she wanted to do was make anyone worry more than they already had been after the Eye Stealer and the Zom-Bill incident, but she was still a bit shaken by her dream. Getting some fresh air while spending quality time with two people she cared very much for seemed like a good way to dissipate that unease that still lingered deep in her gut.

“Speaking of which, we better get going.” Dipper said, carrying his and Pacifica’s plate to the sink.

“Alright it’s go time people, chop chop.” Mabel chirped and hopped out of her chair, towards the front door.

The snow outside was fresh and soft enough under Mabel’s feet, in her mind, to be made into the stuffing of a very cold and particularly wet pillow. A slight breeze floated across the forest, picking up ice crystals that were held aloft by the boughs of the redwoods and tossing them around like nature’s glitter when they sparkled spectacularly in the morning sunrise. There was a stillness in the air as the earth began to wake slowly with the light, the only sign of wildlife being a Cowl that silently glided overhead, returning to its roost in order to sleep the day away. Dipper and Pacifica were chatting about something beside her but she didn’t care, her eyes were to the red, white, and green treetops. The crisp, serene air filled her lungs like a miracle drug, supplying her body with the calm it needed to dissipate her earlier fear. Everything around her was fresh, freezing, and beautiful; exactly what she needed.

Much more ready to face the day now, Mabel walked alongside the couple as they hit Main street. The traffic of morning commuters in such a small town hardly made its presence known with only the occasional passing of a vehicle on the plowed roads, since Blubs and Durland had actually remembered to clear them of snow that morning. Another group of similarly aged teens walked further ahead of them, backpacks on and laughing with one another, bundled up for the Monday morning weather. Mabel thought she had gotten over her desire of going to school, there were more important things to worry about right now anyways, but she couldn’t help the painful longing that entered her heart when she saw them. She found herself mourning for a life she never had, time she had lost, and memories she never got to make. But, she supposed, she was here now and she was walking Dipper and Pacifica to school at least, so that was something. She held onto that closely and it brought her some relief, but not nearly enough.

Turning the corner, the trio was surprised to see the large crowd of students, teachers, and bystanders alike that had gathered in front of the high school. A news van sat in the street with its back doors open as a broadcast was being readied. 

“That’s… odd.” Pacifica stated with a head scratch.

“C’mon, let’s go check it out.” Dipper responded and took off running.

The girls followed closely beside him and made their way through the crowd until they got to the front, near the base of the steps leading up to the building itself. There was nothing that Mabel could make out that was obviously wrong, at least from the outside. Maybe except for the thick sheet of ice that coated the steps, front lawn, and sidewalk, making the ground extra slippery. As far as she could tell, it seemed like everything she expected from a normal red brick highschool. So then why wasn’t anyone going inside? 

“I wonder if the principal thought he saw the Sascrotch in the halls again and that’s why the school’s closed.” Wendy said as she strolled up behind them. 

The three teens turned and grinned up at their friend. “Wendy!” They said simultaneously.

“What’s good guys?” The highschool senior saluted. “Yo Mabel, you go to school now?”

“Uh, no.” She responded, hiding the fact that saying those words made her want to go depressedly lie face down in the snow with a question. “What’s going on?”

The ginger shrugged. “Dunno, but I think we’re about to find out.” She said, pointing to newscaster Shandra Hernandez, who climbed half way up the steps to the school, accompanied by a cameraman and a plump man with thick glasses.

The newscaster raised her microphone and began, “We’re live in front of the Gravity Falls High School, where reports of unexplained flooding have kept anyone from entering the building. I’m joined here today with Principal Schmarglesmarf to get the full story.” She turned towards the guy next to her, presumably the principal, and said, “Can you tell us what happened?”

The man adjusted the large frames on his head and started with a tinny voice, “Well when I went to unlock the front door this morning, a sea of water rushed out. And even after I turned off the water main it just kept coming and coming and wouldn’t stop. It was crazy, I tell ya, almost like there was an infinite source of water inside.”

Now that it had been pointed out to Mabel, it was obvious. Through the first floor windows, she could just barely make out the gentle lapping of waves against the bottom of the glass, just like an ocean had been trapped within the walls. She elbowed the couple that stood on either side of her in the ribs and whispered to them, “Guys check it out, you can see waves in the first story windows.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense.” Wendy whispered back, “If that was regular flood water, wouldn’t it be standing still?”

“Yeah, yeah Wendy, you’re right.” Dipper gasped and quickly set his backpack down on the ground, fetched his non school notebook, and began to write in a frenzy.

Principal Schmarglesmarf continued, “I advise all of you to go home. There will be no school until we can get this sorted out and the flood damage fixed.”

At that, a chorus of cheers erupted in the crowd as students quickly dispersed to return to their homes. Teachers gave each other looks of concern and headed for the tiny parking lot on the side of the building to leave. Shandra and her cameraman returned to the van as the principal also walked to his car. But Dipper, Mabel, and Pacifica remained where they were, peering up at the waves that crashed against the windows while the morning breeze ruffled their hair. 

“Ha! See you guys at work then.” Wendy laughed and turned to leave but then paused and added, “You better not be thinking about pulling a mystery twi- uh, trio moment and try to fix this,” before quickly dipping out of sight.

“Well you got what you wished for, Dip.” Mabel stated, poking him in the shoulder.

“Yeah I, I guess I did.” Dipper responded blankly while he clicked his pen. “Huh."

Just as the mass of people had mostly thinned out, a voice that Mabel had heard somewhere before said from somewhere behind her, “My goodness, what happened here?” 

“Dad?!” Pacifica exclaimed, wheeling around with her jaw slack and eyes wide. 

Uh oh. Mabel thought as she spun around on the sidewalk.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” Dipper shot, pulling his girlfriend close.

“Pacifica dear, hello.” Preston said warmly, wearing a navy suit. Directly behind him, a blacked out Rolls Royce SUV idled as a chauffeur waited by the door.

Pacifica was livid, her face red and her fists clenched. “That’s it? This is the first time you’ve seen me in five months and all you have to say is ‘hello’?”

“I’m trying to be pleasant with you, Pacifica. Don’t give me that attitude.” He said much less warmly and then turned his attention to the other two and stated, “Nice to uh, see you too, Pines. Dipper, and Mabel was it?” The man curiously tilted his head and added, “What a surprise, a miracle even.” 

There was some strain in his polite tone, as well as a certain calmness Mabel didn’t like, telling her something was wrong. A protective anger surged through her staring at the man who had hurt her friend so deeply and she seethed, “Yeah? Well I’ve heard about you, mister. For all I care you can go suck a fat d- oof.”

She was elbowed in the side by Pacifica, who shot her a quick glare that shut her up. The blonde faced her father defiantly, her nose in the air, and venomously told him, “Answer Dipper’s question, what are you doing here? You better have a good reason for showing your sorry face again.”

“Yeah last time I heard, you were off by yourself in the Swiss Alps.” Dipper added.

“Mind your tone, boy.” Preston said coolly. “But, is it a crime to move back to your hometown, wishing to see your own daughter again? I thought not.”

“She doesn’t want to see you. If she did, she wouldn’t be pissed off, would she?” The teen boy fumed.

Preston clasped his hands behind his back and started, “I know my daughter and I know what’s best for her. That’s why I’m here. Now it seems to me like this backwater, sorry excuse for an educational institution she’s been visiting is closed until further notice. Luckily for you Pacifica, the Gravity Falls Private School is still in as pristine condition as ever. I will have you enrolled and in classes by tomorrow.”

“What? Dad no, you can’t! I don’t want to go back there, my friends are here. Can’t I just wait until they get this fixed?” Pacifica exclaimed, stomping her foot. She wasn’t that person anymore, private school wasn’t for her. The thought of going back where every day was a cutthroat popularity contest full of catty remarks and vengeful drama made her want to puke.

“Well, I guess I could discuss it with Mr. Pines first.” He said testingly. “Where is he, did he drive you to school today?”

The trio exchanged anxious glances with one another, asking the unspoken question of how they would be to handle the fact that Stan wasn’t even in the same dimension as them right now. Dipper decided he was going to try and take one for the team and straightened his shoulders confidently for precisely half a second before he opened his mouth and stuttered, “Well, uh, he uh,” his confidence fading fast. 

Mabel had to step in front of her brother to save the day and she lied, “We walked on our own this morning since Stan had to open up the shack early.” 

“I see.” The millionaire scoffed and stuffed a hand into his coat pocket. “I can just call him, then.”

“No wait, I-I changed my mind! I’ll go, you don’t have to call. I can tell Stan myself.” Pacifica abruptly cried, reaching out and grabbing ahold of her father’s sleeve. Just as quickly as she had gripped his coat however, she let go when she realized what she was doing and shot him a disgusted look.

Preston raised an inquiring brow, shortly followed by a smirk he was unable to hide. He rested his hand on her shoulder, which she shrunk back from, so he opted to fold his arms instead and told her, “Well I’m pleased to hear that, Pacifica. Remember how you so loved your class on the ruling class? You’ll do just fine, I assure you. It’s where you belong, after all.” He gestured towards the flooded school and added, “Those low lives weren’t giving what you needed anyways.”

“Yeah fine, whatever.” She spat back, ready to melt a hole through a solid steel beam with her white hot gaze.

“It was nice to see you again, Pacifica. If you ever wish to visit me, I live in the only other mansion in town. The one that’s not owned by that hillbilly.” He said as he climbed into the backseat of his car. The chauffeur shut the door for him and then climbed into the driver’s seat and drove off, leaving them standing alone on the sidewalk.

“Oh what am I going to do?” Pacifica said softly, her face scrunched up with worry while she stared at the Gravity Falls Private School across the street. “I’m going to get hella picked on. Everybody will know I went to a semester of public school, I’m so screwed. Everybody there is a big fat bitch.” 

When she covered her hands in her face, Dipper put an arm around her and tried to reassure her, “Hey, it’s going to be alright. We’ll figure something out.”

“No it’s not, Dipper!” She snapped angrily. Then she took in a deep breath, held it for several seconds, and let it out slowly. In a much calmer tone, she started over, “Sorry, but it’s not going to be alright, hun. I think he’s onto us, he knows something’s up with Stan, I blew it. What is he going to do when he finds out we’re on our own?” Pacifica’s voice had a hint of hysteria in it by the end and she began to tap her foot anxiously.

“Well, don't panic for starters.” Dipper said, which got him a nasty look. He crossed his arms at her and sighed, “Paz, c’mon…”

She shook her head. “Okay, sorry, sorry. I’m sorry, I’m mad at my dad, not you.” The blonde took in another deep breath, ran a hand down her face, and then gave up entirely on trying to contain her emotions any longer. On the empty street, there were no bystanders but the twins to hear the shrill scream of Pacifica’s rage. “I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!” She shrieked at the sky.

“Wait-wait, Paz!” Mabel interjected while she waved her hands. “I totally have a plan to fix your bully problem. I’ll go to school with you and if anybody gives you trouble, then bam! I beat them up.” The sweater wearing girl had to admit, she felt pretty proud of her genius idea. She could kill two birds with one stone, getting to finally go to some form of high school after dreaming about it for so long, and protecting Pacifica at the same time. 

Pacifica shifted her weight onto one foot and put a hand on her hip. “Yeah Mabel, but something you should know about rich freaks is that they’re bored- and hella salty. Also, you’re still a missing person. So the last thing you want to do is get on some parent’s bad side because you threw a punch at one of their kids. They’ll lawyer up, call the news, and that could open up an investigation that could very well lead to the discovery of the portal.”

Mabel hung her head and sighed, “Ugh, this again. But damn that’s smart, you’re right.” She tapped her foot in thought for a moment and her face lit right back up. “Ooh, ooh, ooh, well I’ll give you a boxing lesson then… Hm, I guess I won’t be helping Soos with the shack then today.”

“I won’t say no to that, unfortunately.” Pacifica half smiled. Her grateful expression however, turned to concern when Dipper gripped her shoulder and gazed at her with fretful eyes.

“What is it?” The blonde asked with a hint of anxiety. 

“You don’t think Preston is going to call the cops about Mabel, do you?” He gulped.

Mabel blanched. “Oh no I’d be screwed, on the run from the law in my own dimension.”

“Hey, hey, calm down you two.” Pacifica tried to tell them, grabbing them both by the shoulders and shaking them a little. “I promise you the last people my dad wants to work with are the cops. I don’t think he’s truthfully filed his taxes since I’ve been born.”

“Yeah, well it would sure be nice if he didn’t stick his stupid nose where it didn’t belong. What is he doing here anyways? Cuz I don’t buy his sudden change of heart nonsense.” Mabel stated, rubbing her chin.

Pacifica shifted the weight of her pack on her shoulders and turned around with a sigh, starting for home. “That’s just the thing girl, I don’t think he’d be here unless he wanted something. I mean, why leave fancy, posh Europe for this old town unless you have something to gain from it?”

“We need more evidence.” Mabel responded while she followed the blonde, bringing a fist down on her open palm for emphasis. “I say we break into his mansion and sneak around spy style in the middle of the night.”

Dipper shook his head. “No, what we really need is to figure out how to fix the school, for Paz’s sake. Let’s work on one problem at a time.”

Mabel nodded in agreement and chirped, “And then we break into the mansion. I’m talkin’ rappelling ropes, black outfits, and night vision goggles. We’ll smash through his windows and he’ll never see it coming.” 

Pacifica scowled ahead angrily with a bitter laugh, thinking of how her father had dared to try and come back to her. “Yeah maybe we could do that Mabel, and throw a couple dozen eggs on our way out. He made his choice when he split from my mom and left me to process that on my own…” She faltered and rubbed her arm, “I-I don’t know why he’s here, I just wish he’d stop trying to make me miserable and let me live my own life.”

“So what are you going to do now? Because whatever it is, we’ll be right behind you.” Dipper inquired, taking her hand.

The blonde stood a little taller and told him, “Be as defiant as I’m capable of. I can’t risk not going to school, but I sure as hell can make trouble. Mabel’s boxing lesson would be a good place to start. I want to make it loud and clear that I’m not interested in being a part of his life and I never will be.” 

Dipper blessed her with a reassuring grin that gave her hope for her plan. He said to the group, “Well while Mabel teaches you how to throw a punch, I can look through the journals and see if I can figure out what’s going on in the school.”

Mabel glanced back at the high school. “Then shouldn’t we go exploring inside now? Wouldn’t that work better?”

Dipper shivered. “And walk home with our legs turning into ice? No way. We can go later, I gotta find the fishing waders Grunkle Stan got me if I’m gonna go in there. There’s only two of them though, and one is for Stan. So someone would have to wait outside.”

Pacifica kicked a pebble into the street and said, “Well I’ve got a shift at Greasy’s this afternoon, maybe you and Mabel could go then. I don’t think I want to get all wet and cold.” 

The sweater wearing girl chirped, “Ooh the mystery twins would be back in action baby, due to the unfortunate side effect of losing our third member to employment. R.I.P.”

“Sounds good to me, I’d gladly serve tables if it means I don’t have to turn blue from cold.” Pacifica commented with a small smile.

A few hours later and after many punches thrown, Pacifica felt like she was finally starting to get the hang of it. She was sweaty all over, tired, and angry, sure, but it was a small price to pay for her own well-being. This was all her father’s fault, she fumed, as she put all her force into punching the thick pad over Mabel’s hand. It was because of him she was worrying about having to fight at school, it was his doing that she was smelly and exhausted, and he was the reason the electric jolts of panic kept sparking in her head, anxious that no good was going to come from him in the future. Now she had to worry about Bill and her father, she didn’t know which was worse. So she let out her rage with a double uppercut and then socked Mabel right in the gut when she moved her arms to shield her face.

Mabel made an oomph noise when her fist connected with the brunette and she immediately retreated. “Ohmygosh, Mabel I’m sorry. Are you ok?” Pacifica fretted.

Mabel straightened out her back with a somewhat pained but joyful expression. “Yeah that was a good one Paz, just do that in the halls and no one will mess with you.”

Breathlessly, Pacifica sat on the shag carpet in the living room and took off Dipper’s boxing gloves. Her hands were all hot and sweaty like the rest of her and she had to wipe them on her shirt before she could grasp her water bottle and chug it thirstily. Once she had downed half the bottle, she gasped for breath and got to her feet, telling her sparring partner, “Thanks for the help Mabel, that was oddly therapeutic.”

“I know from experience.” The other girl agreed, wiping her brow. She watched her friend as she began to unwrap her knuckles with a scowl and tilted her head, asking, “Penny for your thoughts?”

The blonde flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Ugh, it’s just my stupid dad. I’m worried he’s up to something. But I don’t know what it is or what I can do to stop it.”

Mabel let her pads fall to the floor and took a step closer to Pacifica. “But that’s why you have me. I can handle any stunt that fart bag tries to pull on you.” 

“I appreciate that Mabel, but I feel like you kinda, well and all of us actually, already have our hands full with whatever is up with Bill. Now my stupid father is here too? Ugh.” She replied moodily. 

Mabel nodded in agreement. “Oh I know, tell me about it. As if things weren’t weird enough already with giant eye-spider monsters, discovering ancient magic, and being watched by the most powerful demon to ever exist, now we have to throw your dad into the mix?” 

“And the school is flooded, probably by supernatural means, don’t forget that.” Pacifica added.

“Oh yeah, add that to the list.” She softly exhaled, an overwhelmed feeling beginning to make itself known in the back of her throat. And my dreams . Mabel thought to herself. It seemed to her like there was a lot going on right now, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. So she slowly took in a breath and forced her fear down, ready to focus on the most pressing issue. Because it was just like Dipper said, focus on one problem at a time.

The blonde set her hand on Mabel’s shoulder and said sincerely, “Hey that was a nice talk, but I gotta go shower now if I want to make it to work on time.” 

“Yeah good idea, let’s end it there. Remember you can dodge with your whole body, not just block with your arms.” Mabel informed her, untying the pink bandana around her head to let her hair down. “And don’t worry about cleaning up, I can take this all to Dipper. You just worry about you.” 

“Thanks girl.” Pacifica responded and headed up the stairs.

Mabel threw her sweater back over her head and picked up the remaining gear in her arms and made her way to Dipper’s bedroom, the old parlor. The scent of old sweat and leather was nostalgic to her, bringing her back to the times she had spent sparring with Grunkle Ford. She hoped he was doing okay, wherever he might have been, and Grunkle Stan too, of course. Missing them was still an everyday battle but it had been getting better, little bit by little bit. What had really caught her by surprise today though was the bitter longing for a regular high school experience she couldn’t have. But she was dealing with it in her own way, mainly by ignoring it.

The door to Dipper’s room was wide open and her twin was pacing back and forth with a pen in his mouth, an assortment of papers and all three journals open on the floor. He was muttering something to himself that sounded an awful lot like, ‘ it doesn’t make sense ’, and startled when Mabel dropped all his boxing stuff onto the floor.

“Any luck, bro-bro?” She prodded, looking over his notes and the journals.

The young man began to gather his belongings into his backpack. “No, not really. No anomalies match anything we saw at the school. Not from what we could see on the outside, at least. The closest thing I could find was a fae spontaneous spring spell that could maybe be it. We really need to get in there to know for sure, though.”

Mabel chirped as she began to dig through Dipper’s closet for his waist high waders, “Well it looks like it’s time for an adventure then. Go get Grunkle Stan’s rubber overalls, ‘kay?” 

“For you?” He asked as he reached around her and pulled his waders out of the back of his closet on the complete opposite side of where Mabel had been searching.

“No for you ya big dummy dumb, there’s no way Stan’s will fit me. Yours are better.” She responded and took the clothing item out of her twin’s hands. “Now move your tush, c’mon. To the school!” Mabel laughed and she began to push him out of the room, keeping her various worries from breaking the surface by hiding them behind a smile. 

He did not protest.

Dipper thought he looked rather unprofessional standing around outside the high school in a pair of oversized, waterproof overalls next to his sister, who was also enduring the baggy waterproofing. Just at the base of the steps leading up to the school, the boy checked and rechecked their supplies in the weak noonday sun of winter as a stiff breeze bit at his nose and ears. The occasional bystander walked down the street, eyeing them curiously as they passed by.

“Okay, we look ridiculous but we’re ready to go.” Dipper muttered as he slung his bag over his shoulder and rested a hand on the flashlight he carried on his hip.

“Nobody looks flattering in these things bro, you just gotta embrace it.” Mabel stated, snapped the elastic suspenders on his back, and ran up the steps to the front doors where luckily the sun had melted away the morning ice.

Excitedly, Mabel pulled hard on the doors but they didn’t budge. She tried again and it was the same story. “Ugh, locked. Dip, you got five minutes to pick this lock before I smash a window for us.”

“Maybe we should use a door that’s not in the front where everyone can see us then. I don’t want to get caught.” He whispered concernedly, glancing around like someone was waiting to pop out and catch them in the act at any moment.

Mabel’s gaze went up and down the deserted street and she shrugged, “Bro, I think people should be glad we’re breaking into school. It’s a place of knowledge, and we crave knowledge.” She yelled matter-of-factly.

“Mabel, shh shh.” He shushed, his eyes darting around nervously. 

“Bro, we’re the only ones here.” The young woman laughed, gesturing to the empty road. 

“Oh.” Dipper deadpanned once he saw that they were the only souls in sight and got right to work picking the lock without any more complaint. 

A few minutes and a few mumbled curses later, the lock finally gave in with a click and a torrent of frigid water that came past their knees burst the double doors open and flew down the stairs and into the street, churning and bubbling and full of debris. Both twins grabbed ahold of a door in order to be kept from being swept away. Mabel held on fiercely against the rushing of water, the volume of its movement surprisingly noisy in her ears.

“Mabel, take my hand, we can walk in together.” Dipper instructed with a raised voice, reaching out his arm.

“Wait Dipper, I got an idea.” She said back in a voice that wasn’t quite a yell and pulled her hand bell out of her pocket. Casting a Water Spell was quick and easy and with a flick of her wrist, stopped the outpouring of liquid from inside altogether and held it back. She stopped feeling like a pair of ghostly hands were trying to sweep her off her feet and she was able to loosen up her death grip on the doorknob.

“Or that works too.” Dipper said simply and clicked on the flashlight.

Mabel was considerate enough with her magical abilities to keep a spot of dry land around them when they walked into gymnasium and they locked the doors behind them. It was dark save for the pale winter light that made it in through the few windows, only letting a little sunshine into the spacious room and keeping it dim enough that Dipper’s flashlight came in handy. Several tiles had fallen from the roof and many more hung on by the margins, their absence putting inky holes in the ceiling that appeared as though they could hide any manner of terrible creature inside. Rocking gently back and forth with a constant creak in the waves were the wooden bleachers, the water not quite powerful enough to pick them up completely. The black, litter filled swirling water moved around them in white capped waves like it was alive as Mabel parted it as if she were a biblical figure and they traversed across the room, stepping on the dry gym floor. If Dipper had to describe the floodwater in one word, he would’ve said it was angry and surely would have some nasty things to say. It was also unbearably humid, but in the cold sort of way where the moisture clung to his clothing and seeped the warmth and life from his bones despite the layering he had done with the two zipped up coats he was wearing. 

The double doors on the far side of the gym were opened and on the other side, more of the same dirty, waist height water lapped against the walls in a T shaped hall, the sound of crashing waves echoing down the otherwise quiet space. Mabel tired from keeping such a large swath of liquid away for some time and slowly, she lowered her shaking hands and the sea reached them once more. Desks, pencils, bits of paper, books, markers, rulers, and other school supplies clogged up the water and made moving forward difficult for them. Not to mention, the flooding had seemed to break the building’s heating system along with the electric one, giving a terribly cold temperature to the air and water alike in the lightless hall.

“Well, I never thought I’d get to go to high school but here I am.” Mabel laughed, tapping her hand against every rusted locker they passed. 

“Just not in the most ideal circumstances.” Dipper commented, shining his flashlight curiously into a gap in the tiled ceiling.

It was nice to be there because if she closed her eyes, Mabel could almost pretend she was a student walking down the halls with Dipper by her side, just like a normal teenager. But then the sounds of the waves colliding with the walls hit her ears and the scent of the lake caught her nose and the spray of the mass of water inside brought her back to reality and she opened her eyes with a longing frown. She wasn’t a high school student and she never would be.

But Dipper was and so were Pacifica and Wendy. She was here for them, not herself, she reasoned. But was that true? Part of her knew there was more to this than her own desire to help her friends, and deep down she knew she was here because she was desperate to gain any little semblance of normal teenagehood, even if it took sneaking into a potentially cursed school to do so. Mabel sighed as she pushed a desk out of the way and waded through the muscle stiffening, chill waters. There was no way she could lie to herself, she was here for selfish reasons. 

“I was just here on Friday and it was all completely normal, that’s so crazy.” Dipper mumbled while he directed his flashlight beam into a pitch black classroom and witnessed a clumping of desks in the corner softly bumping into the walls over and over again without end. “Freaky.” He shivered as water dripped from the ceiling and ran down the walls in tiny streaks, staining them yellow. Seeing a place built for learning in such a state of disarray raised a red flag in the back of his mind, raising goosebumps up and down his arms. “Mabel, keep your eyes peeled for anything that could be useful- or dangerous.”

“Already on that, Dipper.” She replied and pushed a basketball out of her path. “Hey, who do you think caused all this?” 

“Hm, that’s hard to say. Maybe one of Wendy’s friends? I’d have to ask her. But what makes you assume it was a person?” He questioned, trying to not let his imagination run wild with images of all the terrible beasts that could be lurking in the water with them.

“Are you saying you think this was caused by an entity?” Mabel inquired.

“Maybe, it could be. We can’t rule anything out, including Mr. Northwest.” Dipper stated as they waded around a corner.

A drop of water from the ceiling hit Mabel in the eye and she blinked it away. “Ooh interesting theory. But not everything has to be connected, Dip.”

Dipper clicked his tongue. “Yeah it’s a lead, but it’s not enough to incriminate. And we can’t rule out coincidences, either. And we have to remember that correlation isn’t causation.” He sighed, “So I guess you could be right,” but then he perked up and stressed, “but then what was he doing at the school this morning? It seems pretty suspicious that he just so happened to be driving by to tell Pacifica she’s going to a new school.”

“I guess that’s true…” Mabel trailed off when down the far side of the hall, an ear-splitting wail, deep and powerful like the ocean itself, vibrated their skulls and the water around their legs began to shallow out. An immense swell of water began to rise at the end of the corridor, picking up trash and debris with it until it pushed past the ceiling. Another scream hit their senses and the wave rushed towards them, throwing open lockers and ripping the ceiling from its place as it surged. Dipper grabbed ahold of Mabel’s wrist and tried to pull the two of them back but they were caught up in the pull of the wave and their feet went out from under them. 

“Aucwcmw, gfjp ax cafb.” Mabel yelled with her bell in her outstretched hand and the water split down the middle as it passed right by on either side of them and crashed through the outer windows and lockers instead, spilling an assortment of soggy books, shattered glass, broken desks, and heaps of dirty water onto the parking lot.

“Geez, that never gets old.” Mabel chuckled as she helped Dipper to his feet.

“Oh man, you just saved our butts Mabel!” Dipper exclaimed with a grin as what remained of the wave slammed into the far wall.

“It was nothing.” She smiled, elbowing him in the ribs.

From the direction the two of them had just come, the sound of rushing water appeared and the twins spun around to discover a shape rising from the murkiness. A vaguely humanoid figure, composed completely out of the mud choked waters, rose as a swirling mess. Its limbs were pillar-like and its face abstract, made up only of a whirlpooling mouth and beady eyes. Briefly, it stared at them with its mouth hung open and proceeded to shriek in the same noisy tone before swelling into another wave and charging them. Dipper clung to Mabel as she used both hands to cast her spell and just like before, the mass of liquid was split around them and passed by without even landing a single drop on them.

The anomaly slammed against the far side of the hall just as Dipper separated himself from his sister and then it proceeded to raise itself from the rest of the water and stare them down once again, its mouth hanging open in distress. A gargled sort of moan, long and loud, left the figure as it tossed its head back as if it were either frustrated or in pain, or maybe both. But before either of the twins could attempt to speak to it, it threw itself back into the flood and raced off around the corner. Another scream shook the halls and then all was silent.

“Woah-ho, what was that thing?” Mabel inquired of her brother.

“Wait, that wasn’t a fae spell at all Mabel, that's a Water Elemental. Of course!” Dipper cried with much excitement and a grin that lit up the room. 

“Yeah and a really pissed off one too… I wonder if we could chase after it and try to talk to it?” She thought aloud as she began to trudge through the water after the creature. “Because my Universal Translator picked up on none of that.” 

Dipper waded after his sister, in the direction the Water Elemental had fled, and responded, “I mean maybe? I’ve never seen one in real life before, but Ford said in his journal that he wasn’t ever able to figure out a way to communicate with them so you’re welcome to try your luck.”

“And my luck I shall try.” She emphasized by raising a fist into the air as the two of them came around the corner.

“I wonder what it’s doing here in the first place.” The boy muttered as he untangled the straps of a backpack from around his right leg.

Another of the powerful screams came from the far end of the corridor, past the open doors of the cafeteria and Dipper shone his flashlight into the room to reveal a pillar of water shooting from the larger body that tossed an entire table into the wall and crumpled it in the middle. Then the surge collapsed back into the flood and the surface went relatively still. Dipper gasped, “Mabel, I think it’s in the cafeteria.” 

“No, it’s in the chemistry lab.” She replied sarcastically with a knowing grin.

Dipper only rolled his eyes good naturedly as they stepped into the cafeteria, which was an utter mess. If it hadn’t been so cold outside, the assortment of floating fruits, milk cartons, and other soggy and disintegrated food items would have surely stunk up the space to high heaven. Instead the floodwater worked like a very wet refrigerator, one that had lifted the tables from their original positions and floated them about randomly. Mabel picked up one of the dozens of plastic trays on the surface and tried to skip it like a rock but got not so much as a single bounce with the way the water swayed like the waves on a lake shore. 

The same longing that had filled her heart earlier that day was back in full force now as her eyes took in the sights of the cafeteria. In another life, she could’ve spent every weekday here, talking and laughing with friends as she ate a home packed lunch and had nothing to worry about but the most attractive boys and whether or not she would do well on her exams. It hurt so much to have that ripped away from her when she went through the portal, now she was on a different course and could never go back.

In the center of the cafeteria, a whirlpool abruptly began to form as the Water Elemental swam around in circles and moaned with a pained tone. The rest of the liquid in the room began to follow suit and slowly started to move counterclockwise, pushing a clumping of tables towards them.

Mabel pushed aside her own feelings on where she was and called out to the anomaly, “Hey you! Water Elemental, can you hear us? We want to help.”

“Yeah, we won’t hurt you. Just let us help you get out of here.” Dipper added as he switched his flashlight on and off, spelling out ‘hello ’ in Morse code and praying it would help.

When the elemental gave no indication of having even heard them whatsoever, Dipper suggested with a whisper, as if the anomaly could hear and understand them, “You should try picking it up with your spell. Maybe you can carry it outside at least.” 

“That’s actually a good idea, Dip.” She complimented and took a step closer to the artificial whirlpool. “Here, fishy fishy.” Mabel called as she rang her bell. 

“Be careful.” Dipper cried, taking a few steps backwards to avoid a table that floated by. 

The mass of the swirling water began to rise off the floor as Mabel lifted her arm. “Okay, so far so good.” She breathed.

The ball of water under the sweater-wearing girl’s command angrily spat a jet of itself right at her face and she had to duck to avoid being hit with the high pressure spray, which unfortunately caused her to lose concentration on the spell and send the Water Elemental back into the murky depths. 

“Where’d it go?” Dipper exclaimed as he spun around, looking for the creature.

“Why would I know? I’m not the anomaly expert here.” Mabel shrugged.

Just then, a gargantuan swell of water rose up from underneath their feet, lifting them off the floor, and swept them away. They were carried down the hall and towards the windows Mabel had shattered earlier, where the outside lay. More quickly than the girl could cast her spell, they were tossed through the nearest open window and onto the asphalt as the creature yelled in a low tone. It rose from the flood to gape at them for several seconds and then disappeared back into the depths of the building, leaving them outside to freeze.

Chapter Text

“Gah, it’s f-f-freezing out h-here.” Mabel complained as she picked her soaked self up off the snow laden ground, having just been tossed outside into subzero weather by a wall of living water.

“I guess it didn’t like being p-p-picked u-up.” Dipper shivered, completely wet and all too aware that the ends of his hair were already starting to freeze.

“H-hang o-on, I’ll dry u-us off.” Mabel said with chattering teeth and shakily cast another Water Spell. Closing a fist, she pulled all the moisture from the two of them, ice particles from their freezing hair included, and let it all drop onto the snowy asphalt. So that was interesting, she could move snow and ice too apparently. Once her job was done, she exhaled deeply and rested her hands on her knees. Casting so many spells in such a short timespan was beginning to exhaust her and she felt a sense of fatigue creeping into her bones. Okay, maybe it was time to take a break and cozy up in front of a fire or something.

Just then, the horn of an old, brown van honked on the street as it pulled into the parking lot and by some miracle, the twins turned their heads to discover the vehicle belonged to Wendy. She stopped right beside them and kicked her door open and announced, “Hey, you guys look like you could use a ride.”

The siblings briefly shared a smile and then burst into the backseat of the vehicle, relishing in the heated cabin’s warmth. Dipper closed the door as the redhead gunned it out of the lot and he asked, “Wendy, what are you doing here? Don’t get me wrong, I’m super grateful you showed up just now but I thought you had a shift?”

As Mabel rubbed her arms to warm herself, the ginger said easily, “Soos told me what you guys were up to. He said I could go help, so here I am.”

“Wait, I thought you didn’t want us to fix this.” Mabel said in a puzzled tone.

The senior huffed, “Yeah, that was until I learned that you have to go to a certain number of school days to graduate. I’ve missed a lot of school already and I don’t know about you, but I’d actually like to graduate in the spring and I can’t do that if the school is flooded.” She made a right turn and continued, “So anyways, what’d you guys find?”

“Oh it was crazy!” Mabel exclaimed while she threw her hands up in the air. “There was this guy made of water that kept yelling at us and like, trying to drown us or something. We tried to talk to it but he wasn’t the chatty type.”

Wendy smirked at them through her rearview mirror. “Sounds like a regular day for you guys then.”

“Hey Wendy,” Dipper began, “you wouldn’t happen to know anyone who could’ve done this, do you?”

Wendy shook her head. “If you’re asking if one of my friends did it, then no. I’ve already grilled everybody and they’re clean.”

“Aw, darn.” He replied, resting his chin in his palm.

Wendy nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, it sucks big time. But what are you guys going to do now?”

“I don’t know… I guess we need to figure out how to talk to the Water Elemental…” He trailed off in thought.

“Water Elemental, hm… Dipper, wait! The potions, water from an elemental was a potion ingredient, don’t you remember?” Mabel informed him, grabbing him by the sides of his coat and shaking him.

“Mabel- stop!” He winced and mercifully, she did. “Now that you said it, that does sound familiar. Modoc must have figured out a way to speak to them if he was able to get such a big supply of the stuff.” A massive grin formed on his face and he beamed, “Finally, an excuse to translate the caves.”

“Boom, mystery twins for the win baby!” Mabel clucked, raising a hand for a high five. Dipper didn’t leave her hanging. 

“I have no idea what you two are going on about, but it sounds dope.” Wendy chuckled.

Mabel gasped. “Oh girl, you have no idea. So it all started with the Eye-Stealer, basically after we…”

Mabel rattled off everything that had happened to them at a machine gun pace and had impressively managed to catch Wendy up to speed by the time they pulled up to the Mystery Shack. After changing out of their burdensome waders, the twins set up fort in the living room, scattering notebooks, journals, various photos Dipper took of the caves, and an assortment of snacks and soda cans around on the table to the point where things were threatening to spill off the edges. Waddles was there, hovering under the table in hopes that the occasional snack would fall onto the ground and into his domain. At first, Mabel started off just as enthusiastically as her brother had and did her share of the translating process from the partial alphabet Dipper had put together. But only thirty minutes later, she wanted to pull out her hair from the tediousness of it all and decided her time would be better spent on cracking the code to the Prophecy Spell and practicing strengthening her magic instead. 

A twinge of guilt manifested itself in her heart when she sat up from her chair beside Dipper and took a seat cross legged on the carpet instead. She knew she had told herself that she was going to focus on one problem at a time and try to help Pacifica but the dorky code stuff just wasn’t her thing, like at all, and she figured practicing her spellcasting wouldn’t hurt anyways. Bill was still out there and he was scheming, that couldn’t be ignored no matter what. The young woman opened her notebook to the page she had written everything she had learned in the caves on and read through the paragraph on the Prophecy Spell. It seemed like she had stared at that page in particular for hours and had gotten nowhere thus far. The words ‘ Requiring a near oracle level of skill ’ always stuck out to her, reminding her that she wasn’t good enough, not yet at least. After reviewing all the necessary steps, she closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath, and meditated. The stillness in her mind and body helped her to focus, she had learned, and liked to believe it brought her one step closer to finally getting the answers she needed. It was her hope that the answers to her strange dreams, worries, and fears were hidden behind that spell of knowledge. Mabel raised her handbell, rang it, and-

“Woah, Mabel check this out.” Dipper exclaimed with his back to her.

She put her bell down and opened her eyes, sighing. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea in hindsight to try practicing in the same room with Dipper when he was in a nerdy mood. Oh well, it wasn’t really his fault for interrupting her, she was supposed to be helping anyway. Mabel stood and walked over to the table, peering over her brother’s shoulder. In his notebook he had written out a few paragraphs of english text with the title Modoc’s Room underlined above it, with an accompanying photo of one of the walls where she had spoken with Zom-Bill paperclipped to the page. Curiously, she moved the writing closer to herself.

She read aloud, “The night to reactivate the redwood portal draws nigh. Our first attempt leaves me troubled, and the vision I have just received upon my bed confirms my suspicions. A seven eyed woman, clad in a flowing robe, appeared to me in my sleep and warned me of the adverse effects that will come should I light this portal again. Cipher will spell doom to this world should he ever arrive. What a fool I have been to go along with this. I must burn down the portal at once and ban the demon from this valley.”

Mabel breathed out an exclamation of, “woah,” as she came to terms with this new information. So it seemed like they had been right, Modoc had turned his back on Bill and now she knew why. If her intuition was correct, then it seemed as though Jheselbraum had appeared to him in a vision and warned him not to open the portal he had built that would let Bill through. She grabbed her brother by the shoulders and gazed intensely into his eyes, exclaiming, “Dipper, Dipper, Modoc’s talking about the Oracle. She saved him!” 

“No way, really? That’s insane.” Dipper grinned back at her. He patted the lower half of the page and told her, “Here, read the rest of it.”

“The rest?” Mabel questioned as she let go of him. Her eyes landed on the other translated portion of the page that she realized she had gotten too excited to read and muttered, “Oh, right,” and began reading once more. “Often I receive terrible visions of much death and destruction, but I hold fast to my newfound faith in the Axolotl. He means to make me an Oracle for my people to guide them in His path. Cipher may send as many monsters after me as he pleases, for with the Axolotl as my strength, I will not fall.”

“That jerk-face has tricked too many people.” Mabel sighed, rereading over the text. Something in particular stood out to her among the rest of it though, the notion that Modoc was receiving visions, just like she was. The teen felt her heart skip a beat at the realization and with much intrigue, she continued, “I have instructed my people to flee from this valley for through the most sacred of the Axolotl’s magic, I have seen a most terrible future that would befall us should we stay, one I have seen before in my dreams. An arachnoid monster that sees all, surely sent by Cipher, encroaches on our village and I shortly go out to battle it. But despite my place as an Oracle, the people fear my past with Bill. If I am to perish, they fear the Demon King himself would take hold of my body and seek revenge, as do I. But I hold fast to my faith, for if I may die I know surely the Axolotl may guide my soul. He is the true master of the dead.”

The most sacred magic? He saw the future? Mabel thought to herself as she rubbed her chin. “The Prophecy Spell…” She muttered to herself as her eyes widened and the individual puzzle pieces in her brain clicked together to form a complete picture. 

Modoc must have cast the spell of prophecy and saved his people from whatever terrible fate would have come to them otherwise. A sick feeling settled restlessly in her gut as she heavily sat back in her chair. Her fingers brushed the fabric of her unicorn hair cloak, the one that had belonged to the human oracle so long ago, as she came to the realization that she was in the same boat as he was. Bill was coming for them and seeking revenge after they put a stop to his plan and she was the only one who was capable of protecting her loved ones, just like Modoc. The man who had cast the most difficult spell of all to get the complete picture on his dreams and see what was to come, which she would also have to do. Now she knew with a surety she would need to follow his path. She needed to be stronger.

I never thought I’d ever relate so heavily with a guy who’s been dead for a thousand years. She thought uneasily as the same overwhelming pressure to handle everything that was going on washed over her like it had earlier that afternoon. I really wish I could make an emergency phone call to Jess or Katee right about now.

“Mabel, are you alright?” Dipper asked her with a concerned frown, his hand on her knee. 

It was only then that Mabel discovered that she was shaking and her head snapped up in surprise to meet his gaze. The girl gulped, trying to swallow her fear itself, and gave him a smile that she hoped would calm her twin’s worry. “Yeah I’m good bro-bro, I think I just figured out how Modoc died. Y’know, knowing you fought a monster that killed someone before can give you the shakes.” She quickly lied, holding up her hands and watching them tremble.

“You mean the Eye Stealer got him?” Dipper thought out loud. “Man, that’s brutal. How did I not see that?”

The young woman shakily laughed. “I don’t know Dipper.”

Dipper sat up and nudged her over so he could sit on the same seat as her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “It’s a scary thing to think back on your life and see just how much danger you and everybody else were really in, I get it. But that monster is dead because we killed it so it can’t hurt anybody else ever again.”

Mabel rested her head against his shoulder, feeling bittersweet about the comfort her brother was providing. It was a welcome thing to let someone else help her out for once but she knew it was based on false information she had given. It would’ve been so nice to just tell them the truth of everything but she couldn’t, this was her cross to bear. “Thanks Dip.” She gestured towards the page she had just read from. “Is that all you got translated for now?”

“Um yeah, yeah it is.” He replied and sat back in his own seat.

Mabel slowly stood from her own chair and ruffled the top of his hat covered head. “Well then I’m going to go practice my magic outside.” She turned to leave but then paused and said to him, “Hey Dipper?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for being such a good brother.” She smiled gratefully.

“Oh yeah, of course Mabel. Are you sure you’re doing ok?” He asked softly.

“Yep.” She chirped and saluted him before spinning on her heel and heading outside.

Her fingers and toes had gone numb from the cold some time ago but Mabel didn’t care. Breathing hard in the nighttime, starlit backyard, she magically threw another ball of snow the size of a large dog high into the air and rapidly cast a Wind Spell as quickly as possible. As the chunk of frozen water descended to the ground, she thrust a gust of wind past her that kicked up a swirl of flurries and made impact with the snow ball just before it hit the earth, exploding it into a white cloud. Mabel hugged her outstretched hand back to her chest, directing the controlled bout of wind to return to its master. Just as it passed by her, she leapt and allowed the speeding wind to spin her in the air and tear up the snow from the frozen ground before she landed on her knees and gasped for breath. She had failed to stick the landing yet again, which was disappointing. 

“That might just be one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen.” Pacifica said as she descended the steps on the back porch, still in her pink dress and white apron.

“Oh hey, how was work?” Mabel said breathlessly, stuffing her handbell into her pocket and approaching the other girl. Was it really past nine thirty already? It must have been, Pacifica didn’t get off work at least until then. So that meant it was bedtime for her if she wanted to get enough sleep to get up and walk Pacifica to school tomorrow.

“Good, nothing special. Dipper told me what you guys found out while I was gone.” She said with a slight tightness in her voice. Pacifica was trying not to let it show with her dignified posture, but she was feeling a heavy sense of dread about tomorrow’s school day. Unfortunately for her, Mabel was an emotional wizard who could sense her true feelings without even trying.

Mabel took her by the hand and took the time to straighten the wreath on the back door before she led both of them back into the family room and stated, “I’m sure you’re not too excited about school tomorrow.”

The blonde hugged the sides of her head with her hands. “No. I just- ugh, I don’t want to think about it right now. I’ll explode if I do.”

“Your dad really has you stuck between a rock and a hard place, huh Paz?” Dipper commented, still at the table with his head down and busy with translating.

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.” Pacifica communicated with some distress leaking into her voice as she shook her head. She went for the stairs, only to have the twins follow after her with worry written all over their faces. “Stop, please don’t follow me up here. I need some alone time.” She squeaked and ran up the steps.

“She’s not doing great.” Dipper told his sister from the foyer once Pacifica had disappeared into her room. 

“Yeah, I can see that.” Mabel responded while she tapped her foot, trying to think of a way to cheer up her friend. “I just wish I could do more to help.”

“That makes two of us then.” Her brother frowned. Then he sighed, “Well, I should be getting to bed. I’ll pick up where I left off tomorrow. I just finished the whole column with the spells so we can compare it to the side on the potions. You can go take a look if you want.” He yawned, gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder to the table covered in paper, journals, and cave photographs. “And try not to talk to her about her dad.”

“Got it, goodnight then little bro.” She grinned.

Dipper groaned as he turned and headed for the parlor. “You’re older by five minutes, Mabel. Five minutes.” But once he had turned the corner he called out, “Goodnight.”

Now left alone, Mabel was rather curious to find out what Dipper had been busy doing while she was outside. She tiptoed across the carpet and over to the table, where she shooed Waddles away from trying to reach a nearly empty bowl of popcorn. There on the open page to his notebook were four paragraphs that had uncovered the remaining mysteries to the Light, Water, Wind, and Plant Spells respectively that had been written by Modoc on the cave wall next to the yet to be translated portion on the potions.

Reading through Dipper’s handwriting was a brief description of what each of the spells did, which she already knew by heart. But among this already known information was the english translation of the runes and words she used for each spell, just what she was looking for. “Okay, the Light Spell creates a ball of radiance yadda yadda… oh here it is. The words drawn in the air from bottom to top are as follows: sun, radiance, shine. The words spoken are, Axolotl, light my path. Huh, that’s cool.” Continuing on to the Water Spell, the one that had come in handy that day, she quietly muttered to herself, “The runes are sea, life, and nourish. Axolotl, give me rain are the words. Odd, I’ve never made it rain. Is that what it’s supposed to be used for?” The image of her drawing moisture from the atmosphere to make a rain cloud appeared in her head and made her grin. 

Moving on to the Wind Spell, she whispered, “The words drawn are breeze, rush, air. It looks like the words for this one are Axolotl, lift me up. Huh.” Mabel rang her handbell and muttered, “Aucwcmw, lfte ax fp,” which she now knew the meaning of and she made each of the three symbols in the air, whispering, “breeze, rush, air,” as she drew each one. A small gust of wind gently carried through the room, fluttering the papers on the table and tugging at the shag carpet before it died down just as softly as it had begun. “That’s neat.” She said to herself while she turned her attention back to the notebook and the plant spell. “The runes mean crops, growth, light, and the verbal component translates to Axolotl, aid this growth.” She tapped her chin and recalled, “Yeah that adds up, since I say the same thing for the plant and healing spells.”

The sweater wearing girl put her bell back into her pocket and headed up the stairs with a satisfied smile. Finally knowing what she was saying and doing when spellcasting gave her a good feeling inside. No longer would it simply boil down to meaningless memorization of alien dictation and writing, but a real understanding of what creating magic meant.

Pacifica was already in bed, facing the wall with her back to her, when Mabel opened her bedroom door. The sight of her made all of Mabel’s concern come right back to the front of her mind so she didn’t strike up a casual conversation with her like she normally did, even though she knew there was no way she could’ve been asleep yet. Instead, she changed into her pajamas in silence and crawled into bed. She stared moodily at the ceiling, her mind a whirlpooling mess of unresolved worries and pain. Pacifica was going through it since her father had come back into her life, there was a monster in the school she needed to get rid of, she was dealing with terrible dreams, Bill was being well, Bill, and she somehow on top of it all had to figure out how to perform an immensely difficult spell to fulfill a prophecy while longing for a life she couldn’t have. Great. 

But no, she was strong and would continue to be so, she thought as she internally groaned and rubbed her eyes. Tomorrow would be better, she would become a better spell caster and Dipper would hopefully figure out a way to communicate with their little Water Elemental friend and everything would be alright. Trying not to worry about the possibility of having another horrible dream, Mabel closed her eyes and prayed she was right.

There was a knock at her door. 

Mabel yawned the sleep from her body and blearily stumbled out of bed, her hair sticking straight out in a frizzy mess on her left side. Dipper was on the other end of the door, fully dressed with a mildly concerned expression.

“I made breakfast, is Paz in here?” He asked.

That slapped the sleepiness right from her and with furrowed brows, she gazed to Pacifica’s bed and saw that it was empty and perfectly made. Her backpack wasn’t at the foot of her bed like it normally was and her shoes were missing. 

“I got up so I could walk her to school but I guess she isn’t here.” Dipper explained.

“Uh, what time is it?” Mabel questioned, flattening down her bedhead.

Dipper glanced at his watch. “7:04.” Was his response.

“The private school starts at 7:15, she must have left early.” The girl noted, walking over to the closet to pick out a sweater for the day. So she had no dream last night, she noticed, that was a good thing right?

“Why do you know that and I don’t?” Her brother responded rhetorically from the doorway.

“Dunno.” Mabel shrugged, choosing a white sweater depicting a mug of hot cocoa with marshmallows. “Now are you going to let me get dressed or what?”

“Oh yeah, sorry.” He chuckled awkwardly and closed the door, waiting for her outside.

Picking out a matching blue skirt to go with her sweater was easy work, as was tying it back with a baby blue bandana. Even better, her unicorn hair cloak went along perfectly with her outfit. Dipper was still waiting in the attic when she walked out of her bedroom and he accompanied her down the stairs.

“Man, I hope Pacifica’s okay. Being all alone must suck, she must be so scared.” He said glumly, feeling rather helpless at that moment.

“Hey it’s ok bro-bro, the sooner we fix the school, the sooner Pacifica’s life can go back to normal.” Mabel comforted with a soft smile. 

“I guess that’s true.” He said contemplatively. They crossed the foyer and went into the kitchen, where three omelets were plated at the table. “I thought Pacifica would be here.” He explained sheepishly.

“Cool, more for me then.” Mabel chirped and went for the maple syrup. 

“So what’re you up to today then?” Dipper inquired as he sat next to her. “I gotta long day of deciphering ahead of me.”

“I was thinking I could do more spell practicing.” She said simply.

Dipper seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if finding the right words to say. “So, how’s it going with that Prophecy Spell? Because you thought that was pretty important, right? Have-have you made any progress?”

Mabel swallowed a bite of food and sighed, “Ugh, no. I’m no closer than when I started. I’m still not strong enough.“

“So what do you hope to get out of it when you finally do cast it?” Her brother prodded as he shoved a forkful of egg into his mouth.

“I wanna know what the deal is with Bill and what he’s planning.” She replied, hoping her half-truth would satisfy him. 

He slowly nodded in understanding. “Good idea. Can I help at all?”

“Not unless you can obtain oracle level magical abilities overnight.” She truthfully stated with a head shake.

Dipper abruptly stood out of his seat and held out his hand. “Well I can at least try, right? Here, give me your handbell.”

Mabel chuckled softly but did hand her bell over to her brother. “I mean, I guess you’re welcome to try bro. A bit of advice, relaxing helps.” 

Dipper exhaled deeply and widened his feet to be even with his shoulders as he raised the bell. “I’m going for a Light Spell, so uh yeah.”

“Oki doki.” Mabel said with her mouth full.

Dipper’s face went stony as he raised his arms and rang the bell twice. With much concentration, he slowly dictated, “Aucwcmw, lfush fj pxhs,” and precisely drew the three symbols Mabel had countless times out in front of him. He held his breath while his sister watched with raised brows. One second passed, then two and three and nothing happened. With a sigh, he placed the bell down next to her plate and took his seat. He hadn’t been particularly hopeful that anything would happen but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t just a little disappointed.

“Well, I can’t say I didn’t try. I know how to cast spells, I’ve memorized everything you’ve shown me, I just need to try more, I guess.” He shrugged. 

“You looked so serious.” Mabel snickered as she took a sip of orange juice.

The boy ruffled her hair. “That’s because that’s the face you make every time you cast a spell.”

“No it is not.” Mabel retorted, gently pushing him away.

Dipper laughed, “Is too. But I think I’ll just try sticking to potions for now then.”

“Yeah, that chemistry junk suits you better anyways.” The sweater wearing girl agreed.

The two of them finished their meal and cleaned up with much light hearted chatter. Then Dipper returned to the living room table to continue his tedious work of translating the ancient language of magic while Mabel headed for the backyard for another several hours spent strengthening her abilities.

By the time Pacifica was to arrive home in the afternoon, Mabel was exhausted from pushing herself to her absolute magical and physical limits. Countless spell made snowmen had been pulverized to bits and several brand new, rapidly grown redwoods had sprung up at the edge of the yard. The physically fatigued girl opened her eyes where she was sitting cross legged on the back porch after another unsuccessful attempt in casting that ever elusive and most difficult spell. She stood with achy legs and pondered what it meant to have an oracle level of skill anyways as she walked in the back door. Maybe she was going about it wrong. As far as she knew, oracles were well versed in their knowledge of all forms of magic from their time spent studying, as well as incredibly magically powerful because of their much practicing, and mentally wise from their many years spent growing as people from dealing with demons. All she knew was that she could try her best and hope it was enough.

Pacifica was with Dipper on the couch in the living room, holding him around the middle with her head resting on his shoulder and sniffling quietly. The blonde offered her a watery smile when she saw Mabel enter the room but then went back to nuzzling her face into Dipper’s neck. Her twin was offering quiet reassurances while stroking her hair.

“That bad, huh?” Mabel cringed.

Pacifica gave a tiny nod. “Nobody would talk to me, even though we were all friends last year. The girls threw my binder in the toilet and the teachers kept giving me displeased looks, like I didn’t belong there. It was terrible Mabel, just terrible.”

The brunette took a seat on the T. Rex skull and rubbed her arm. It was a strange thing seeing a friend having such a hard time with something she so badly wanted. If only there was a way she could somehow switch places with Pacifica and act like the new girl in town. That way, Pacifica wouldn’t have to be picked on and she could try and turn that place around for the better by the power of sheer positivity alone. “Y’know, I’d kill to switch places with you.” 

The blonde laughed sadly. “No you wouldn’t.” She sniffled and sat upright on the couch and bitterly continued, “Why did my father have to do this? He knows what the people there are like, he knows they’re all horrible. But he doesn’t care. He just cares about- about- controlling me! This is what this is about.”

“Hey Paz, it’ll be fine. I-I think I got it all figured out.” Dipper reassured her and kissed her on the forehead.

“That’s right.” Pacifica remembered with a shaky smile. “There’s still hope.”

Mabel drew her eyebrows slightly together and asked, “What do you mean?”

“Babe, show her what you learned.” Pacifica said with her regular sass returning to her voice while she pointed to the table.

Dipper stood up and walked over to the wooden table. “Oh, right. Yeah Mabel you’re gonna want to see this because I think I figured out a way we can talk to the Water Elemental.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Mabel asked as she also stood.

“Because Paz came home.” He said simply.

“Kay, good point.” She agreed as she sat at the table.

Dipper took his notebook in his hands and began to pace the length of the family room as he started, “I finally decoded all the writing on the potions in the cave and it’s crazy. According to Modoc, potion making is a type of ritual that uses a rune inscribed cauldron to infuse ingredients native to Gravity Falls with the Axolotl’s magic to give whoever consumes them magical benefits. So you know how there’s six types of spells right? Turns out you were kinda right, there’s six types of potions too. A-and they revolve around light, water, air, growing, healing, and knowledge just like the spells do.”

“Way to go using that big brain of yours, Dipper. So that’s six different potions for us to play around with. Plus we already know the ingredients for one of them.” Mabel grinned. 

“Well, not exactly.” Pacifica commented from where she had laid herself out dramatically on the couch.

Dipper nodded enthusiastically. “So each of the six potion classes have a base consisting of two ingredients, but then you can add a third ingredient to actually make the different effects. So for example, we know that one of the potions under the water class teleports you around in a cloud of fog, apparently named the Misty Potion. And we know its ingredients are Water Elemental water, Plaidipus pelt, and the water collected from the footprint of a Hidebehind. But there’s another one in the water class called the Water Walk Potion that also uses Plaidipus pelt and Water Elemental water, but its third ingredient is Siren scales.” 

He handed his sister the photograph of the runes that Mabel recognized as Modoc’s writings on brewing and continued, “So from the picture, it looks like there were at least twelve different potions, but two of them have unfortunately been eroded away and lost to time. So we’ll never know what the second plant or healing potions were, which is kinda a bummer. Unless we were to somehow guess the third ingredient and coincidentally prepare them properly.” 

Mabel took a closer look at the photo and upon closer inspection, she did see twelve different paragraphs, each presumably informing the reader of the dozen potions. But two of them had bled into themselves because of the way the water ran down the cavern wall and become unreadable. “Okay, I think I got it. But what does this all have to do with the Water Elemental in the school?” She questioned, taking a swig from an old soda can that had been left out since the day before.

Dipper’s face grew even more excited and he explained with a dramatic flair to his voice, “Well I’m glad you asked. Because one of the prophecy potions is called the Allspeak Potion, and it lets you understand any language.”

“Gasp!” Mabel said through a mouthful of soda and immediately began coughing on it.

“So here’s the plan,” the boy continued, “-are you okay, Mabel?”

She punched her chest a few times, hoping to dislodge the liquid from her lungs. “I’m… cough …fine. Ahem, continue please.”

“Don’t die on me, girl.” Pacifica commented.

Dipper cleared his throat and started over. “Ok, so here’s the plan. If we can brew an Allspeak Potion and each take one, we’ll theoretically be able to know what the elemental was saying. Well, if they weren’t just roars that is.”

Mabel had finally stopped her coughing fit and responded, “I like that plan, Dip. But how’s our watery friend supposed to understand us back? Do we just chuck a potion at it and pray it works?” 

“Um, yeah, I didn’t really think of that but I don’t see any reason why that wouldn’t work.” He flipped forward a page in his notes and mumbled, “Ingredients per serving: a heartful of fox blood, two medium sized Question Quail eggs, and half a tongue. It doesn’t say anything about being species specific though… Odd.”

“Ooh, ooh! I’ll go see if the Eye Stealer has a tongue.” Mabel chirped and ran out the door.

“...Didn’t I explode its head?” Pacifica asked as she sat upright.

“I think it’s best if we let Mabel do her thing here.” He shrugged.

The young woman returned shortly after with two mostly still intact mouthparts ending in long, curved, shiny black fangs in her arms. “Well the Eye Stealer doesn’t have like, a real tongue but the good news is it did have these. He uses them to eat with so it’s gotta be close enough, right?”

“Oh ew, gross. Did you have to bring them in here?” The blonde complained.

“Mabel, that’s not a tongue… Those are called chelicerae.” Dipper responded hesitantly.

His sister retorted, “Hey, you talk with your tongue and he talked with these. Plus, it’s like you said, it didn’t specify whose tongue it had to be, just a tongue.”

Dipper sighed. “Yeah but they’re… not tongues. Tongues are fleshy.” 

“These are fleshy. Poke them and you’ll see what I mean.” Mabel insisted, holding one out for him to touch.

“I think I’ll pass, thanks.” He said, taking a step away from fangs.

The brunette wasn’t going to let up her argument so she continued, “Plus, we have two um, chelich- uh, mouth part tongue things here and since the recipe calls for half a tongue and we need four doses for us and our Water Elemental, as long as we cut these bad boys in half we’ll have just enough.”

Pacifica shrugged from the couch. “I’m willing to try it. Because let’s be honest here, I don’t know where on earth we’ll get two tongues otherwise.”

“The graveyard should have some zombies.” Dipper countered.

The blonde wrinkled her nose in disgust at the thought of grave robbing corpses for their body parts. “Ok true… But honestly Dipper, would you rather go dig up smelly rotten dead people out of the frozen ground in the middle of the night or just try out Mabel’s idea? Because I know my answer to that question.”

“Alright,” he sighed, sitting back down on the couch, “Mabel, you win.”

“Woo hoo!” She cheered, improvising a dance. “Allspeak Potion, here we come. Hopefully!”

The boy got to his feet, stretched out his back, and headed for the front door. “I’ll go see if I can cash in a favor from the fairies for our other ingredients.”

The next afternoon, the three teenagers were in the kitchen with their ingredients so helpfully provided by the local fairy population, with Dipper hovering over the stovetop as the two girls sat by at the table watching him work. In the two and a half years he had been living in Gravity Falls, Dipper had become friends with many of the forest creatures and it finally looked like his hours spent trekking in the woods and politely staying over for tea in a lot of hollowed out tree stump homes when he would’ve much rather been working on the portal was starting to pay off. He thought it was better to not ask questions on how the fairies had even acquired such things in the first place, namely the specific amount of fox blood. Now it was sitting measured out in four cups made from the hollowed out tops of toadstools on the counter next to eight Question Quail eggs and Mabel’s four halves of the Eye Stealer’s chelicerae. A bunsen burner, bench scale, and a variety of chemistry related measuring glasses also took up the counter space, which Dipper had brought upstairs from Ford’s lab, as well as a meat grinder. 

After measuring out the precise amount of water that would be needed down to the milliliter, Dipper turned on the burner to a medium heat and cracked all eight eggs into a bowl while he waited for the cauldron’s contents to come to a boil. He glanced at the translated text in his notebook and muttered, “Now I need to remove the shells from their inner film and powder them until they have a flour-like consistency while the eggs poach. Then I will have to heat the shell over a bunsen burner until it undergoes thermal decomposition. That will turn the calcium carbonate in the shells into calcium oxide… Then I can add the calcium oxide in pinches, waiting five to seven seconds between each addition…” He turned to the girls and commented, “This would be a lot easier if one of you would help me,” as he started the painstaking process of isolating the shells from the membrane through his non-latex gloves.

“I’m supervising.” Pacifica stated.

Mabel chirped in a witch’s hat while she knitted with black yarn, “And I don’t want to be anywhere near that yucky chemistry junk. Chemistry is just math with extra steps, everybody knows that.”

Dipper gave his girlfriend a sad little frown. “C’mon Paz, it’s just like cooking and you like cooking.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s like baking and I like baking, there’s a difference.”

“Yeah and in baking, you gotta be precise, just like with this too.” He countered.

The blonde gave a small, skeptical laugh. “What, with your magical witchy potions? No thanks, you’re gonna kill us.”

Mabel elbowed her in the ribs and cheered, “Just try it Paz, what’s the worst that could happen? You explode?”

Pacifica raised a brow. “Then why don’t you get in on it?”

“I did girl, Dipper and I got the ingredients while you were at school. My work here is done.” She informed.

“Ugh, don’t remind me of that place.” Pacifica huffed as she stood out of her seat. Now Mabel had reminded her of what a terrible time she had again today, a chick on the cheer team had carved ‘ lower class whore ’ onto her second period desk and stuck her gum on the seat. So now she figured doing her homework at the table wasn’t going to get her mind off of that, but helping Dipper with his task just might. “Fine, I’ll help. But I’m not going to like it.”

“That’s the spirit, Paz.” Dipper encouraged with a wide grin. “Ok, now first off you’re going to want to put on gloves because calcium oxide is caustic.”

“Alright…” She agreed reluctantly and put on a pair of gloves. “What do I do now?”

Dipper squinted at his open notebook and said, “Now you should pulverize the shells in the mortar and pestle while I add the eggs.”

Seeing as how nothing had exploded yet, Pacifica relaxed a fraction as she began to grind the Question Quail shells. Dipper added the eggs to the low boiling water and they began to poach. Nothing caught fire and nothing boiled over and she relaxed even further. Once the shells had been ground up, Dipper took over for her on the chemistry heavy part while she was instructed to begin adding the fox blood with a pipette, adding no more than one drop at a time. The second the first droplet of the crimson liquid hit the boiling water, the runes flashed to life with a neon pink glow and a puff of red steam emit from the cauldron. 

“Uh, what’d I do?” Pacifica questioned nervously. 

“You’re doing great, that was supposed to happen.” Dipper encouraged her as he heated the shells over the bunsen burner.

Confidence brought a grin to her face upon hearing her boyfriend’s reassurance that what she was doing was correct. She had just done magic, real life actual magic and the realization filled her veins with excitement. Because she was the one who had made the cauldron glow and the brew react so prettily with rose colored steam. As she continued to dribble the fox blood into the rest of the liquid, it turned a deep red color and thickened considerably. Once she had finished up with the blood, she read ahead and told Dipper, “Now I’ll need to grind the fleshiest parts of the Eye Stealer’s “tongue” while you stir in the shells so switch me places,” adding quotations with her fingers when she said the word tongue.

The blonde grabbed the thickest knife from the block and cut the fangs clean off the mouthparts of the Eye Stealer with a grimace. They were still disgusting to look at, let alone work with, but she found she was able to put that aside for the most part so long as she focused on the pride she was starting to take in doing this right.

Mabel set her needles down on the tabletop, approached her friend, and placed her witch hat on top of her head. Then she grabbed Dipper’s phone from his back pocket, knowing full well he was too focused on his measurements to protest, and took at least a dozen photos of the whole scene. “Look at you go to town on those things, Paz. You’re a true witch.”

She scoffed and smirked as she removed the outer chitinous layer from the chelicerae, “And I’m the best looking witch you’ll ever meet, thank you very much.”

“Yeah you are.” Dipper commented as he finished with the last of the shells, which got Pacifica to grin.

“Woah, it’s bright pink now.” Mabel noticed, looking into the cauldron. 

Pacifica sniffed as she began to put the mouthparts through the meat grinder, “And it smells like… grapefruit?”

Dipper wafted the pink steam towards himself. “Yeah it does, that’s pretty cool. But it still needs to thin out. Adding the tongue should do that, if what we got even counts as one, that is.” 

“It will, I know it will.” Mabel shouted, picking her needles back up and resuming her knitting.

Pacifica scooped up the bowl of ground up mouthparts and shared a look with her boyfriend. “I sure hope it does, because I’m not going grave robbing. You can’t make me.” She divided the chummy substance into four equal parts, making sure to weigh each one to ensure they all shared the same mass, then took one of the chunks in her hand and proceeded to hover it over the cauldron. “How long does the steam need to seep into this for, babe?”

Dipper started a timer and responded, “Thirty seconds for each tongue half. Then we dump it in and stir it clockwise exactly one hundred times. Repeat that three more times and then it should be ready.” 

“Got it.” She said and plopped the chunk of flesh into the cauldron once the timer had gone off. 

Dipper stirred a hundred times and then the next quarter blob of tongue was readied. The couple repeated the process until every last bit of the Eye Stealer’s chelicerae was thoroughly mixed into the brew. “Ninety eight, ninety nine, one hundred. There, done.” The young man counted out loud.

All three of the teens paused and eyed the potion with great curiosity, eager to know what would happen next. The cauldron began to vibrate as the runes glowed brighter and the thick concoction churned around on itself as it thinned out to an oil-like consistency as black steam that smelled of tar hissed from it. They began to gag, as the room filled with the thick smoke and Mabel stumbled through the cloudy air to open up a window that mercifully sucked all the awfulness out into the outdoors. When the room finally did clear and their coughing subsided, Dipper cautiously peered into the cauldron to see about a cup’s worth of clear neon pink liquid simmering at the bottom. 

“It worked!” He exclaimed, rushing Pacifica and giving her a big hug. “It worked, I can’t believe it!” 

Mabel leapt from her seat and giggled, “See? I told you it would. High fives all around, let’s go.” 

“I should’ve never doubted you, Mabel.” Dipper smiled as he slapped her hand with his own. The trio exchanged many well deserved high fives and exclamations of joy as they celebrated their victory over potion brewing. 

“Wow that was like, really fun actually. Minus the choking smoke, that is.” Pacifica bubbled excitedly, still giddy of the fact that she had successfully participated in magic. “So what do we do now? Pour that bad boy into four glasses and head to the high school?” 

“I’ll grab the waders.” Mabel sang and headed for her brother’s room.

Dipper checked over the recipe on his notebook just to double check they hadn’t missed anything and read, “Finally while simmering, add honey to taste or else the brew itself will be quite bitter. The effects last six hours from consumption. Hm, I guess we got one more thing to do.” 

“I’m on it.” Pacifica said and grabbed a bottle of honey from the cupboard. She added a generous spoonful to the mix and made sure it had dissolved before she helped Dipper pour the brew out into four small glass vials and shoved the cork toppers into their necks.

“I’m baaaaack!” Mabel cheered with the two pairs of rubber overalls in her arms while also dragging an empty cooler behind her. “There’s only two of them so someone will have to wait outside. Plus, I figured we could carry the elemental away in this cooler.”

“Good thinking, Mabel.” Dipper complimented, taking a pair of waders from her.

Pacifica reasoned, “Um, I can be the one to wait outside. You guys have already survived once there.” 

The twins nodded simultaneously, agreeing with her words and put on their waders. Dipper tried to pick up all four glass bottles at once but then thought better of it when he felt his grasp wasn’t exactly secure on every one of them and set them back down on the counter. “Huh, how am I supposed to carry all of these without dropping them?”

“Use your backpack?” Pacifica suggested.

“Yeah, but I want to make sure they’re staying upright. The last thing we need is for one to spill or break on the way over.” He countered while he stroked his chin.

“Ooh, ooh, I have just the thing.” Mabel cried, running over to her knitting materials. She picked up the thin scarf she had been knitting and measured it around Dipper and cut off the excess. Then she looped a length of the scarf around each of the vial necks and tied the whole thing to her brother’s waist. She smiled as she took a step back, admiring her handwork. “It’s not perfect but it should do for now. Now give it a good stomp and see if it stays.”

“Mabel, sorry but I’m not doing that.” Dipper said with a head shake.

“Aw, boo.” Mabel groaned and gave him a hard shove instead. He stumbled backwards but the potions remained where they were on his belt despite the movement. 

Dipper’s arm quickly went to the vials and he clutched them against his side with a panicked expression on his face. “Mabel! What the heck?”

Pacifica shrugged, “Hey, all that matters is that it worked, right? Now let’s go.”

He breathed out heavily and sighed, “Yeah, I guess so. Let’s go.”

“Bottoms up.” Mabel said and downed her serving of the brew all in one gulp at the front steps of the Gravity Falls High School. The liquid went down easily and tasted like a particularly sweet grapefruit. Dipper and Pacifica did the same and the three of them all shared a hesitant look.

“Well, I don’t feel anything different.” Mabel said slowly.

“Pacifica, you speak French, don’t you?” Dipper asked.

“Yeah? I’m speaking it right now, do you understand me?” She responded. 

Dipper’s eyes widened and he gasped as he gazed down at the now empty bottle he held in his hands. “Woah. Guys, I think it works.”

The blonde gave her boyfriend a kiss on the cheek, squeezed Mabel’s hand, and turned towards the sidewalk to hop back into Soos’s truck that was idling on the curb. Wendy sat beside him with her feet up on the dash on the passenger side, since Soos had decided to close up the Mystery Shack for a few hours while he aided the twins with their adventure and she had decided she wanted to tag along. Pacifica gave the two of them a thumbs up and hopped into the back seat.

Soos stuck his head out his truck window and called out to the twins, “If you doods are good to go then I’m gonna park this baby in the parking lot.”

“We’re good Soos, thank you.” Dipper waved and began to pick the lock to the front doors.

“You guys be safe!” Pacifica cried as the truck rounded the corner.

Mabel sat on top of the cooler and yelled, “We’ll be totally safe.”

A few minutes later the lock was successfully picked by Dipper, allowing the twins a path inside. The girl made sure to cast her Water Spell before she opened the doors this time and they were able to walk into the gym with ease since she kept the dirty liquid from touching them. Dipper held onto all their important equipment, the cooler, the flashlight, his backpack with his notebook and journals, and the potion for the Water Elemental while Mabel kept them dry. It was still as cold and muggy inside as it was the last time, and just as eerie with the waves lapping against the walls in the otherwise silent space. 

“Here Water elemental, elemental, elemental.” Mabel called out as they entered the T shaped hallway, trying to ignore the mourning for a different life that was growing in her heart. Why was it that every time she came back here she felt this way? She needed to get over this, there were more important things going on.

“We have a special treat we want to give you.” Dipper added, flicking on his flashlight. 

“Here, let’s go left this time.” Mabel whispered in the little pocket of light amongst the darkness.

“Good idea.” He agreed.

Making their way down the left corridor, Mabel noticed just how much her spell practicing had been helping her just then. She had been able to keep all the water at bay much longer than she had the last time she was here, and that was just a few days ago. It brought a miniscule smile to her lips knowing she was improving. But an uncanny groaning of metal somewhere deeper in the building hit her ears and instantly the grin was wiped off her face.

A low wail echoed off the walls, followed by a cry of, “Help me!”, by a young sounding voice.

“Woah, that was creepy. Did you hear that?” Dipper gasped.

“Yeah, it sounded so scared.” Mabel whispered, trying and failing to keep herself from sorrowfully wondering which of the lockers on the walls would have been hers if she could have attended school here.

“Let’s keep moving towards it.” He said as a shiver went down his spine. “Do you think it was the elemental?”

“There’s only one way to find out.” Mabel responded as they turned the corner and immediately she got a strong sense of dèjá vu when the water around them began to pull itself forward and create an immense swell at the end of the hall. 

“Mom, dad, where are you? I’m scared.” The rumbling of the wave cried as it crashed towards them.

Mabel shouted over the roaring of the water, “Dipper, I’m gonna stop this thing dead in its tracks and that’s when you give it the potion.” 

Her twin stiffly nodded and took the last remaining pink potion from his belt as she raised her hand in front of her with her fingers spread wide. The powerful wave tore ceiling tiles from the roof and rattled the windows as it barreled forwards, ever closer until it stopped just short of Mabel’s hand like it had hit a glass wall. Most of the water splashed back and spread back out across the hall but a familiar watery figure remained, its stumpy hands pressed against Mabel’s wall of magic in confusion. 

“Wh-what is this? It’s you again!” It cried as it swelled in size once more.

“Now Dipper!” Mabel cried.

“Take that!” Dipper yanked the lid off the vial and threw the entire glass into the body of the Water Elemental and together, they watched as the pink substance dissipated throughout the creature’s body over the course of several seconds. 

Mabel lowered her hands and ended her spell, allowing the waist high water to reach their waders and she said softly, “Hey, can you understand us now?”

The Water Elemental shrank down as it gazed up at the two of them in surprise. “Yes, I can. You’re back…” He trailed off with a child-like voice, sounding rather frightened.

The twins shared a fist bump at their job well done and Dipper said softly, “Well we’re happy to hear that. My name is Dipper and the girl next to me is my sister Mabel.”

The Water Elemental spun around on the spot and the potion seemed to translate this action as, “My name is Atl. Have you seen my parents? I’m lost…”

Dipper seemed to make some sort of mental connection that Mabel wasn’t picking up on because he gasped and tore his notebook from his backpack and began to write furiously.

Mabel cooed, “No, we haven’t Atl, I’m sorry.”

“Hey Atl, “ Dipper began curiously, “why were you attacking us earlier?”

Atl flung himself back into the water and then popped back up in a wavy motion, which translated to, “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I was just trying to talk to you. That’s how Water Elementals talk, by moving water.” He turned himself into a little whirlpool right in front of them and that meant, “But when Mabel picked me up, it scared me and I didn’t know what you were doing so I splashed you.”

“Very interesting. Thank you for your response.” Dipper muttered with his head buried writing away in his notebook.

Mabel stifled a giggle, since she found it amusing how similar Dipper and Grunkle Ford were at times, and told Atl, “Hey it’s alright, we had a classic case of misunderstanding going on. But don’t worry because we’re here to help.”

Atl waved his hands in a circular motion, which meant, “Help? How?”

“By answering some of our questions.” Dipper clarified with a click of his pen. He raised his hand and made eye contact with the elemental once more and asked, “So Atl, where did you come from and how did you end up here?”

The child emit a spray of water into the air and then swelled up like a wave, only smaller this time. When the potion translated his movement, his voice was small and broken, “I don’t know, I was splashing in the lake making waves and then there was a boat, a really big one too. I was scooped up and it was all dark… Now I’m here.”

“The lake huh? So somebody took you here then.” He stated thoughtfully, chewing on his pen.

Mabel gasped. “No way, a kidnapping! Atl, you’ve been kidnapped.” She dramatically turned to Dipper and grabbed the cooler that was floating nearby him before opening it up and saying to the elemental, “We’re getting you poor baby home, hop in and we’ll take you back to the lake.”

Atl eyed the cooler apprehensively and jostled it around while it floated on the water, as if testing its sturdiness. Finally, he swelled even more and squeaked frightenedly, “I don’t want to go back in a dark box, that’s how I got here. Plus, I’ve made my own lake here. I like that more than the box.”

Upon feeling the water level sink around here from Atl’s immense accumulation of mass, Mabel made the conscious effort to keep herself calm. Attempting to talk the anomaly down in case he was preparing to charge them or flee was the logical thing to do so she smiled as brightly as she could. 

It seemed as though Dipper was on the same page and he raised his arms disarmingly and said softly, “Mabel is an expert when it comes to moving things in coolers.”

“Sure am.” The girl chirped.

Dipper continued, “It’ll only be for a little bit, we promise. We need to get you out of here because you want to go back to your family, right?”

“Do you think you could be brave for us and get into the cooler?” Mabel cooed, patting the interior of the plastic object.

A fearful expression came to the elemental’s face and he fretted, “No, I don’t want to!” He gathered even more water around himself and swiftly spun around and began to flee from their presence in a ginormous wave.

“Oh no you don’t. You’re not going anywhere.” Mabel said, ringing her handbell. 

One spellcast later and all the fluid around the elemental was magically pushed aside up the walls, leaving him as a face within an isolated ball of water wriggling on the dry floor. Atl yelped panickedly and began to churn and bubble in on himself, which paradoxically spat out new water from seemingly nowhere that spilled across the floor and quickly replaced what Mabel had displaced.

“He really can create water, that’s so cool. That must be why everything is all flooded.” Dipper awed.

Mabel seriously barked, “And we can talk about it later. Dipper, be ready to scoop him up in the cooler because I’m going to lift him out of the water.”

The boy reached out and his hand curled over the handle of the box and he held it open to his chest. “O-okay, I’m ready.”

The young woman redirected her spell to target Atl instead of the water around him by pointing directly at him and gently lifting her arm. Just like she had hoped, the balled elemental lifted out of the water and into the air and towards the cooler Dipper was anxiously holding. Atl tried to leap away into the flooded corridor and out of Mabel’s magical grasp but she pulled back by closing her fist and tightening her grip on him. “Careful Dipper, he’s really slippery. We gotta time this perfectly.”

“Just let me know when you’re gonna drop him.” He told her, his heart beating rapidly from the anticipation.

As Atl flung himself against the edges of the ball like an animal stuck in a net, the sweater wearing girl picked up her rate of respiration and began to perspirate from all the energy it took to fight against such a creature as she gently lowered him to the mouth of the cooler. “Ready? Now Dipper!” She cried and ended her spell, allowing Atl to fall directly into the box.

Dipper slammed the top shut and held it that way with his chest hugging the top and his arms around the sides just as the elemental hit the bottom. The cooler buckled and shook but remained closed and Dipper winced, “Alright, got him. Now let’s get it out of here.”

She wiped the sweat from her forehead and agreed, “I couldn’t have said it better myself bro-bro.” She cast another spell and cleared the way of liquid for them, which she realized almost too late was a hindrance to her brother when he nearly dropped the heavy, water filled cooler now that it was no longer floating. He set it heavily onto the floor and laid over it to keep the anomaly from bursting free.

“Mabel, that isn’t helping.” He said with mild annoyance, clearly fighting to keep the lid closed.

“Here, I’ll sit on it and clear the path for you while you drag us both.” She suggested.

Her brother seemed to contemplate this suggestion since he didn’t immediately respond, but the frown on his face did deepen. “Alright, fine. I don’t have any better ideas.” He sighed.

“Great.” Mabel chirped, trading him places.

“It’s a good thing this cooler has wheels.” Dipper huffed as he started to pull the heavy load towards the front doors.

Once they had made it onto the front lawn, they kept the front doors open and allowed the water to drain onto the street and into the gutter while Dipper caught his breath. Even if the occasional desk made it out and down the steps, they figured it was fine since the water level was actually noticeably decreasing for the first time. Mabel waved Soos and the rest of the gang over and seeing that the street was currently flooded, the man decided the best course of action was to drive over the dead grass to make it to the twins.

“Did it work?” Pacifica asked, stepping out of the car.

“Help me! I’m trapped!” Atl muffledly cried as he banged against the top of the cooler, giving Mabel an inch of air.

“Yeah… huff … Do you have a lock or a rope or anything?” A winded Dipper asked while the brisk air bit at his fingertips.

“Oh doods, I got some bungee cords in the back.” Soos suggested, gesturing over his shoulder to the back.

“On it.” Wendy quipped and sped around to the truck bed to grab several of them.

With Dipper’s help, she and him were able to secure the cooler closed while Mabel and Pacifica sat on top of it to keep Atl from jostling it around. Then the four of them worked together to lift the heavy thing into the back of the truck and tied it down to the bed with even more cords. Dipper was rather cold and stiff by the time it was all over and he sat tiredly in the truck bed and rested his head against the wall.

“Good job, everybody. Great team work all around.” Mabel complimented the group while she also sat in the bed of Soos’s truck, across from Dipper.

Wendy and Pacifica jumped down onto the grass and as the ginger took her place back in the passenger’s seat, the blonde hesitated and inquired, “Are you guys not going to sit in the car?”

“No, we gotta make sure this bad boy doesn’t go anywhere.” Mabel explained, gently patting the cooler. She hugged it and whispered, “Shh, it’s ok Atl. You don’t have to be afraid, we’re taking you home.” 

Pacifica frowned at the floor for a moment before making her decision. “Well then I’m riding with you guys, scoot over Dipper.” She grinned and hopped up.

Soos popped his head out the window and quizzed, “Is everybody ready?”

Mabel nodded, “We’re good Soos, hit the gas, we’re off to the lake.” 

“Yus!” Soos grinned and drove them out of the parking lot.

As the silhouette of the school got smaller the further away they went, Mabel had to wonder under the pink sunset sky if she would ever see the inside of the school again and that made a dart of pain embed itself right into her heart. If only she was able to just experience one day; a singular day of school would be enough for her now. She’d never mope about it again, honest.

“Alright, we did it.” Dipper exclaimed, raising his hands in the air for high-fives. Pacifica hit one of his hands with an acceptable amount of force but he realized his mistake a little too late and tried to lower his other cold and wet hand but Mabel slapped it as hard as she could and sent a stinging pain radiating from the base of his palm to the tips of his fingers. “Ow, ow.” He cried, shaking his affected appendage.

“I high-five hard .” She laughed.

“Ow, yeah you do.” He said painedly. There was a beat of silence as everybody watched the cooler jump and Dipper nudged Pacifica and said, “You put in some good elbow grease with the cooler, Paz.” 

“Of course I did. I have to do some of the work too, y’know.” She smirked as she held out the hand that wasn’t holding Dipper’s to make sure she hadn’t broken a nail shoving the hefty cooler around. Mabel had done her nails just last week and she wasn’t sick enough of them yet to get them changed from the icy blue with snowflakes they currently were. “So… what exactly happened back there?”

“Oh my gosh, Paz, it was the coolest thing. So we started-” Dipper began.

“You wouldn’t believe it if we told you! I totally-” Mabel said at the same time.

The twins both stopped simultaneously when they realized they were speaking over one another and Pacifica giggled, “Alright, one at a time.”

Both siblings shared the briefest of looks before Mabel decided she was going to get the first word in and word vomited, “Ok so I totally made first contact with the Water Elemental, whose name is Atl by the way. And he-”

Once Mabel had to stop to get a breath in, Dipper quickly jumped in to get his own perspective on the story in and he spit fired words until he was gasping for breath. Then Mabel took the opportunity to get in as much as she could before she was aching for air, with Pacifica laughing at the absurdity of their sibling behavior all the way. Eventually, the twins called a truce and decided to be more considerate in their turn taking when it came to talking and they told their tale together all the way up to the lake.

Getting the cooler out of the truck was just as difficult as getting it in, since Atl had begun thrashing again as soon as he noticed he was being moved after he had settled down shortly after their drive had started. Despite the group’s reassurances to the trapped elemental, his fighting continued and more violently than ever. He even managed to knock one of the bungee cords loose by sheer force alone. Luckily for everybody, they were already on the dock by the time that happened and Mabel and Wendy worked quickly to undo the others as the sunset turned the sky fiery. 

The lid sprung open as the girls turned the plastic box on its side, with Atl crying, “Help me, mom, dad!” as he fell straight into the water with a splash.

He emerged on the surface of the golden sunlit water and frantically looked around as if he was trying to take in a hostile environment. But the anomaly paused once he realized exactly where he was and his jaw dropped.

“...The lake. You were telling the truth.” He gasped as he slowly spun around to Dipper and Mabel. He vibrated back and forth, saying, “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, Atl.” Dipper said as he tipped his hat.

“Not a problem.” Mabel cheered, pumping a fist into the air. “Now go find your family.”

Atl grinned as widely as he could before he dove below the surface and swam off towards the center of the lake, leaving a wake behind him. Further out across the glassy surface two other much larger wakes appeared spontaneously, heading for the young elemental. The three of them collided with so much velocity that it sent a waterspout, three stories high, shooting into the air and sent waves knocking the docked boats into the wooden beams. It came crashing down clamorously, shattering the otherwise peacefully still evening in the forest. Then there were three Water Elementals jumping out of the water, a small one and two big ones, just like dolphins off into the sunset just as the first stars of twilight emerged.

“Call the news, call everybody! We saved the day.” Mabel exclaimed as she jumped for joy on the rickety planks of the dock. And I kept everybody safe. She thought in relief.

“Already on it dudes. After that Eye Stealer incident I got Shandra Hernandez on speed dial.” Soos chuckled and made the call. 

“I’m going to call my dad and tell him I can go back to regular high school.” Pacifica grinned from ear to ear as her feet dangled over the edge of the dock. 

Dipper sat down beside his girlfriend and held her tightly with a relieved expression and Wendy picked up several rocks from shore to skip from the dock with a smile on her face. Seeing her friends so gleeful to get their proper education back made something click within all the longing sadness in Mabel’s brain. Maybe she would never be able to go to school like a normal kid, but she helped those she cared about get back to that point and maybe that was enough. Because as she stood there on the dock watching Wendy skip stones in a carefree manner while Dipper contently rested his head on Pacifica while she giddily dialed in her father’s number, a sense of pride filled her chest in knowing she played a large role in getting them there. Her path was different from theirs and there was no changing that, but she had her family with her despite her circumstances. She made peace with that.

So Mabel put her hands on her hips and breathed out a sigh of immense relief as she felt a great weight she had been carrying within lift itself from her shoulders. That was what personal growth felt like right there, at least when it felt good that was, and she relished it. 

Soos approached the four of them and smiled, “Yo doods, I just got off the phone with girl dood Hernandez and she said she’s contacting Principal Schmarglesmarf as we speak. You doods are going back to school.” He chuckled, patting Wendy, Dipper, and Pacifica on the shoulders.

“Hey dad, I have something I want to tell you.” Pacifica said happily into her phone. “...Yeah, Dipper and Mabel fixed the flooding and Soos said Ms. Hernandez is contacting the principal right now so we can all go back to school. I don’t have to attend private school anymore.” 

The smile that was plastered all over the blonde’s face abruptly fell and she stammered, “What? N-n-no dad, I-I hate it there, they bully me.” 

She pressed a button that put Preston on speaker phone and he responded, “Then show them who you really are Pacifica, you’re a Northwest and Northwests don’t lose. I mean honestly, that wasn’t an issue for you before you lived with the Pines. Maybe that means something, hm?”

Pacifica sat there frozen with her mouth hung open in disbelief for several seconds before she exploded, “Are you kidding me? Are you trying to tell me you think this is the Pineses fault?”

“Well think about it, if you never switched schools you wouldn’t have a reason to be picked on, now would you? You’ll have to earn your place back among them.” The man reasoned from the other end of the call like his solution was obvious.

“I have no place with those brats. Public school has really helped me in finding who I am.” She cried desperately.

“Private school does more for you than the hillbilly teachers you’ve been going to and you know it. That’s why I won’t be switching you back to public school, end of discussion. You’re a fool if you think going back will do you well.” 

The girl was shaking, partly from fury and partly from fear as she held back tears. “You’re the only fool out of the two of us here. I’m not the person you want me to be, that Pacifica is dead and she’s never coming back because I’m not a Northwest, not anymore!” She jammed her finger onto the phone screen and hung up the call before she flung herself into Dipper’s arms.

“Aw Paz, your dad is a total buzz kill.” Soos said sadly, crouching down to pat her back.

“And a jackass.” Wendy added, throwing a rock as hard as she could out into the lake to emphasize her point.

Mabel took a seat on Pacifica’s free side and hugged her along with Dipper and he muttered, “Here comes Mabel, Paz it looks like you ordered a hug sandwich.” 

The blonde stopped mumbling, “I hate him, I hate him,” into Dipper’s chest and shakily breathed with a quivering lip, “Th-thank-ks g-guys.”

“You’re welcome.” Mabel whispered.

“So it was all for nothing, then.” Pacifica muttered, rolling her glass vial back and forth in her hands while looking out over the dazzling orange surface of the lake and staring moodily at her family’s old yacht on the private pier that had never been removed.

“Not at all.” Mabel reassured her quietly. “We got Dipper and Wendy and a lot of other kids in Gravity Falls their education back.”

“We learned some sweet new magic together.” Dipper included as he rubbed her back. 

“And you guys returned a poor baby creature to its family, even if it didn’t like it.” Wendy put in. 

Pacifica sat upright and deeply inhaled a cold lungful of December air. “I guess you’re right. So not for nothing, then.” She got to her feet and glanced down at the glass vial and threw it as far as she could into the water. “My dad is the worst, let’s go stick a Water Elemental in his house so he knows how it feels.”

“Really? I’m down.” Wendy smirked.

Pacifica took one twin in each hand and led them towards shore while a helpless sort of indignance bubbled nauseously in her stomach. “No, not really. That’d be too mean to the elemental.”

Dipper rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “It sucks you have to go through this.”

“Thanks.” She mumbled. “Why does he have to just be so terrible? Why can’t he leave me alone and just move on? Can’t he see he’s hurting me by trying to cling onto what’s gone?”

“No, he won’t.” Dipper said in a heartbroken tone and held her hand a little tighter. 

The five of them that had left the truck excitedly just ten minutes earlier now returned with upset hearts and troubled minds. The ride back to the Mystery Shack was a deathly silent one as the last of twilight bled into the night and the forest was blanketed with a chilly dimness, the little remaining snow weakly lit by the full moon. Mabel, much like the rest of the car, was caught up in her own thoughts. It seemed as though the problem of Mr. Northwest had been anything but solved tonight, that much was clear. As the truck pulled out onto the main road, she could only wonder what the coming weeks would bring for Pacifica.

Preston opened his eyes to find himself in the grayscale world of his bedroom, decorated with luxurious endangered black ebony and only the finest silk curtains of course. He sat upright in bed, dressed in a vicuña nightgown, and frowned. The color that was bled from the room could only mean one thing, and as a chill went down his spine, he wasn’t sure he was particularly looking forward to that upcoming conversation. 

Just like clockwork, the Demon King himself appeared in a flash of light in front of him and twirled his cane. “Yo Presto, so is that stupid kid of yours brainwashed enough yet or what?”

“Hello Bill.” Preston said in what he hoped was an even voice. He pinched the bridge of his nose and complained, “No, she hasn’t turned back to me yet, she’s still completely misguided.”

Bill smirked with his eye and snorted, “Sounds like you had a pretty rough call with her tonight.”

Preston’s jaw dropped. “How did you-? Nevermind.” He waved his surprise away and composed himself. “What’s important now is not rushing this. She’s been with the Pines for a while and I can’t undo their false ideals in a day. I must take slow and deliberate steps.”

Cipher crossed his arms and thought, Yeah, well those ‘slow and deliberate steps’ of yours are expensive. This idiot’s costing me time. 

Instead of thinking aloud, he patted Preston’s shoulder and stated, “I think you’ve roughed her up enough already, buddy. You let me send the Eye Stealer over there, thanks for that by the way, and let a living bucket of water loose in the school. Now she’s being properly indoctrinated at fancy school, what else do you want? Because you do realize those kids are all alone without proper supervision, right? Because their uncles ain’t even on this planet, they’re on some mission Axolotl knows where to see the end of me.” 

He chuckled, Fordsy was real cute if he thought he ever stood a chance against him. But he was rather good at throwing wrenches in his plans, and that was what he was concerned about because it was just plain annoying; nothing fun about that at all. Good old Six Fingers and his idiot brother had a lead now on how to invade his turf and that made him dangerous. He would not allow a repeat of last time. 

Bill continued, “Just call up Shooting Star and Pine Tree’s parents and oh I dunno, tell them they oughta go pick up their kids and take ‘em back to California. Then Llama won’t have any reason to hang around anyone but you anymore and I bet it’d save you a headache and a half.”

Preston slowly shook his head. “She would never forgive me. I must be the hero of her story, her knight in shining armor that lifts her up in her darkest hour. And the sun doesn’t set into darkness all at once, it happens slowly.”

Bill rubbed his eye frustratedly as he tried to keep himself from smashing this pathetic pawn into mush. He was so close to finally, after so long, getting what he wanted but this worthless meat sack was pushing it off because he wanted to work out his family drama. All he needed was that backstabbing blonde brat in her daddy’s possession and the party could finally start. “Oh quit the with poetry you melodramatic snob, I need this sun of her’s to set just a liiittle faster so my sun can rise.”

“The school was just the beginning, Cipher. Have some patience.” Preston retorted venomously. 

The demon grabbed the man by the hem of his shirt and snapped, “Fine, just get your damn kid back and then we enact your end of the bargain.”

Preston scowled, “I haven’t forgotten, that was the deal after all. But just remember, you can’t-” 

Bill interrupted him as he tossed him back on the bed with an eye roll, “Yeah I know, I just can’t hurt her. I heard you the first time.” He turned away from the human and raised his hand to snap himself back to the Nightmare Realm when the mortal spoke up.

“I do seem to remember you promised me you’d take care of the next, erm, hurdle to come their way.” Preston reminded.

He didn’t even bother to look back at him. “Yeah yeah, I’ll call a guy up.” He shot and snapped out of existence.

Chapter Text

Up on a dusty hillside, two brothers leaned against a boulder looking out across a sleepy town in an arid environment. The grey, sandy soil crunched beneath Ford’s feet as he reached for his pack near a bunching of little, hardy, rust colored shrubs that dotted the dry landscape. They had done enough reconnaissance to deem the tiny settlement in the valley safe and now it was time to head into town for supplies. Under a twilight sky from a setting red sun in Dimension 60-D, a canvas of alien stars was twinkling to life alongside the three white rings that orbited the planet.

“...And so Meeyla, she gave me her bells. I dunno if she knew I have no idea how to do magic mumbo jumbo or what, but the important thing I guess is now they’re mine.” Stan was saying beside him, dressed in all black just like he was. 

“She reminds me of Mabel.” Ford mused, stowing his binoculars away in his backpack. “I take it you know how the necklace bell works at least?”

“Yeah they’re like a one time use kinda thingy, right? So I figured I’d just keep it in my pocket for a rainy day.” Stan responded, getting to his feet and popping his back in the process.

“Well yes, that is until you must sing to recharge it. Mabel used to do it all the time.” He smiled wistfully.

Stan took the jingle bell and hand bell out of his pocket and peered at them in his hand. “Heh, I’ll definitely use it sparingly then. I don’t think either of us wanna hear me sing anything.”

The two began to walk down the hill and Ford chuckled, “Definitely not. But it’s strange that Meeyla gave you her handbell if neither of us are capable of casting any Axolotl spells.”

Stan stuffed them back into his pocket and shrugged. “Yeah, beats me.”

Down the hill the brothers went towards the settlement so little, it fit all on one street. A few orange street lamps was all it took to light the road and storefronts, reminding Stan of a town straight out of an old west movie, if it had melded with a modern ghetto, that was. Many of the locals, eight foot long snake-like creatures with short arms and legs, were enjoying the sunset from their houses, either sitting lazily in rocking chairs or laid out on their porches as dust blew in from the desert beyond. Their conversations died down and they inspected the humans with much suspicion as their feet hit the street, the only noises now the buzzing of the lights and the dirt crunching beneath the twins’ boots. Stan felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, his alarm system telling him they shouldn’t have come here. So trying to act natural, he struck up a whispered conversation with Ford and pretended like nothing was wrong, since that was what his brother was doing. Either that or he was entirely unobservant.

“How do ya know where we’re goin’ in the first place? I mean a dimension is a big place and finding a temple here Isn’t gonna be very easy I’d imagine.” Stan inquired as the locals eyed them distrustfully.

Ford sighed and kept his head up and his voice low, attempting to give the native residents no reason to attack, “That’s just the thing, I don’t know. I went through the prisoners’ files looking for you back in Dimension 3-A and saw that the cultist was arrested here in this town in Dimension 60-D, but no information on the location of the temple. My best guess is it’s somewhere nearby.”

Stan hummed in thought. “If I was a secret cultists’ temple, where would I be?” He brought the tips of his fingers together and gazed around for his answer. “Oh, probably somewhere over there I bet.” He said, pointing to the foothills leading to the lone mountain peak in the east.

“Hm, I suppose. We can look for clues after our little shopping trip.” Ford responded as they walked up the ramp leading to a rather rundown and tiny supermarket where the windows were all caked in grey dirt and the lights flickered due to faulty wiring. 

The place smelled heavily of smoke and was deserted save for the rust hued cashier, who stared unblinkingly at them when they walked in and flicked their forked tongue at them behind the counter. Ford paid them no mind but Stan felt a shiver go up his spine. The people here weren’t right in his mind, they’d done nothing but subtly glare at them ever since they had arrived and their eyes felt like hot pokers against his back. The brothers made their way to the cosmetics aisle, since Stan’s stage makeup skills would be required for their plan to work. Nevermind the fact that actually figuring out where the temple was located was their first step, they would figure that out later.

“Oooor… we could ask for directions.” Stan brought up, stuffing a set of makeup brushes and liquid latex into his dark coat.

“I don’t want to risk drawing any undue attention to us, Stan.” Ford whispered and selected a stage makeup kit.

Stan rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably and tried not to peek back at the cashier that he knew was giving them questioning glances. “Too late for that, Sixer. An’ I dunno about you Ford, but these people give me the heebie jeebies. I can’t help but feel like these guys aren’t exactly hospitable to outsiders. The last thing I wanna do is stay around here for who knows how long looking for answers. I know a good place from a bad one and lemme tell ya, this is a bad place. This is the kind of place you don’t stop at, you just keep drivin’ through.”

The scientist studied his twin’s body language and found the fear that rested behind his eyes that told him Stan actually was rather uncomfortable here but was trying not to show it by acting relaxed. Ford couldn’t say he didn’t understand, the people here were odd to say the least. He frowned a little behind his bandana at what Stan had said about knowing when to just keep going, remembering what little he had told him about the time when he was homeless and on the run. So he had a choice to make now, trust Stan or trust himself. 

Ford grimaced uncomfortably and slowly shook his head. “I really don’t approve of this idea, but I suppose I won’t try to stop you either.”

“Oh nice to know you have so much faith in me.” Stan snorted as they walked back towards the register. But he had to admit, at least his answer wasn’t a flat out ‘no’, which was a little bit of an upgrade from last week. He would have to take what he could get, he guessed. “You won’t regret this, Sixer.”

“I hope not.” Ford muttered under his breath.

“Hey chump, have you seen a cultist temple anywhere around here?” Stan asked easily as he leaned against the register, trying to avoid the uneasy look Ford was obviously giving him behind his goggles. 

The cashier took the items Ford was holding and began to ring them up with a brow raised suspiciously. They hissed, “Maybe… Who’s asking? Cuz if it’s that pretty little crossbow you got then I may just know.”

Stan glanced back at Mabel’s crossbow still hanging from his pack and clicked his tongue. There was no way he would ever be parting with it because he was going to give it back to the girl personally. His eyes darted around between himself and Ford, looking for another item that may interest the cashier and he grinned when he saw his twin’s Multipurpose Portaling Device peeking out of his coat sleeve from his folded arms. 

“That crossbow ain’t nothin’ compared to what I really got for ya. You ever seen one of these?” Stan asked, unclasping and holding up his own completely normal watch. “This here is a Multipurpose Portaling Device.”

The snake’s eyes lit up greedily at the name.

Stan chuckled, “Yeah? Here, take a look for yourself.” He handed the watch to the cashier, who took the piece of jewelry gently into their hands. “That there could be all yours, no one else’s, for the right price of giving out directions to the cultist temple.”

“What do all these arrows do? I’ve never seen one with arrows.” The cashier croaked with slight suspicion.

Stan dismissed this with a relaxed wave of his hand. “Of course you haven’t, this is the newest model. The big hand points to the nearest portal and the smaller hand points to the second nearest portal. That arrow that keeps ticking keeps track of time for ya.”

The snake held the watch up to the light, analysing it for flaws and Stan added, “That leather strap will keep it nice and snug against your wrist. I’ve had it for a year and it’s never come loose.”

They made their decision, put the watch on, then leaned in real close to Stan. “Up in the foothills to the northeast, built next to the largest boulder on the north side of the peak, you’ll find it. Take the trail just outside the north of town and walk it till you get to a gate. The Cipher Cultists will take ya from there.”

Stan chirped, “Pleasure doin’ business with ya,” while Ford grabbed his journal from inside his trench coat and wrote down the directions and the snake rang them up. 

“Likewise strangers.” They nodded and Ford paid.

The snake snickered as they left, “Heh, suckers.” 

“Heh, sucker.” Stan smirked as they walked out the door. Once they were out of earshot, he said to Ford, “It always feels great ripping a guy off. Especially when they think they’re the ones ripping you off.”

“And now I’m never going to hear the end of it.” Ford deadpanned. But then a slight smile came to his eyes, one Stan was unable to see, and he said, “But I can’t deny you did get us the information we were seeking.”

A night time breeze arrived to whisk away the heat of the day still rising up off the rocky soil as the twins set off up the trail just outside of the one street town, just like they had been instructed. The nocturnal animals came to life in the desert, chirping alien sounds into the air and occasionally scuttling by in the bushes around them but remaining out of view. Once they had made it out of sight from civilization and into the stout and hardy trees in the hills, Stan selected a spot for them to sit down on top of a few rocks to work his disguising magic.

Ford took off his glasses as Stan began to shape out a mesh covering for his eye with a pad of gauze. Then he applied it over Ford’s right eye with the liquid latex he had definitely not stolen and got right to work applying a base layer of blush to imitate irritated skin. After that was done, he got straight to work with the deeper, crimson tone to appear as an open flesh wound. 

“Why'd you learn to do this in the first place?” Ford questioned.

Stan shifted uncomfortably and lied, “Oh y’know, it adds to the theatrics while givin’ Mystery Shack tours and whatnot. Now quit talkin’, it’s makin’ ya move.” He didn’t feel like telling Ford the real reason, about how learning to give himself fake scars was a good way to disguise himself and give him a tougher look when he was on the run from the cartel and the cops alike.

Ford noticed the discomfort in Stan’s voice and he had an inkling that his brother was dodging the truth but decided to say nothing of it. He just hummed in response since he wasn’t supposed to be talking and waited for Stan to finish up with his job of making it appear as though he was missing an eye. During his brief encounters with Cipher Cultists over the years, he had learned a little about their initiation ritual, mainly how one was expected to ceremoniously give up one of their eyes to Bill. Ford figured that if he came to the cultists already appearing to have recently undergone the ritual, he and Stan would be let inside and they would hopefully have access to the information that they needed. If he was really being honest with himself, their plan seemed like a longshot considering all they had to go off of was the word of one cultist in prison Stan had overheard. But at this point he didn’t have any better ideas.

Stan tore a length of bandaging and tied it around Ford’s right eye and knotted it behind his head. With his tongue sticking out in concentration, he added a bit of the deep red and brown pigment to the gauze to give the impression that the covering had been in place for several days and then finally leaned back and said, “...Aaand done. Whadda ya think?”

Ford set his Multipurpose Portaling Device to its mirror setting and held it up in front of him to get a good look and was surprised at just how realistic the special effects looked on his face. He smiled, “It looks great Stan, Mabel would be proud.”

“Aw shucks, well I’m glad you think so cuz there ain’t enough sunlight left for me to do it over.” He grunted.

They gathered what little things they had gotten out for the break, each took a swig from their canteens, and continued following the trail. But only after approximately ten seconds of silence, Stan spoke up a little uncertainly, “Sixer, are you really sure this plan o’ yours is gonna work?”

Ford briefly paused, almost causing Stan to run right into his backside, before continuing. “I was about to ask you the same thing myself. I’ll be honest, I’m making a lot of assumptions about the demeanor of these cultists and what they’ll be willing to share with outsiders.” 

“Yeah…” Stan trailed off, feeling like their entire mission thus far was having very little success. They hadn’t learned anything useful about the Blind Caverns at all in the however many weeks he had been in the Multiverse. Time was screwy out here so he had honestly lost track of how long it’d been since he was in Gravity Falls. Maybe a month or so if he had to guess.

An old rusted gate appeared just ahead of them and behind it, a lot strewn with concrete in a clearing like a building had been so thoroughly demolished it was impossible to tell what it might have been. Whatever it was, it had been massive. “That… odd.” Stan stated, rubbing his chin as the cooling night air brought the air down to a pleasant temperature.

Ford hopped the gate and asked, “Isn’t it supposed to be right here?” 

“Yeah but I don’t see any boulders around.” He huffed and also climbed over the gate with a muttering of curses.

“True… Maybe we keep going?” Ford questioned with a shrug as he kicked at some old faded police tape on the ground.

Stan eyed the trail that continued further up the foothills past the building and the decaying police tape on the ground and the pieces came together in his head when he remembered what the cultists had said back in prison. …you were the one who sealed off the tunnels to the super secret temple… Well, it’s only thanks to me that the temple is still operational and that those who evaded capture are able to still practice Ciphertology in the first place…

“Yeah, I think there’s another temple deeper in the trees. The cultists said somethin’ about a tunnel and a ‘secret temple’.” Stan agreed.

“Then where- oh um, hello there.” Ford said, staring up into the wilderness with mild surprise.

“Huh?” Stan dictated, turning around to follow Ford’s gaze. 

Emerging from the trees was an eyepatch wearing figure wearing black and yellow robes coming to triangular points at the ends. With slender and lanky limbs that were much too long for her shaggy, black hair covered body, she held out her arms with a wide smile on her snout. “Right you are, brothers. You are of the brotherhood right?” She inquired, pointing to Ford’s gauze covered eye.

“Yes of course.” Ford smiled brightly as Stan tried not to run for the hills from the Wendigo looking chick that had just snuck up on them. Her grin was mentally unwell, like that of a junkie that would pounce at any moment. 

“Uh-” Stan mumbled and Ford swiftly kicked him in the ankle. “Oh right, yes! We are.” He chuckled nervously.

“C’mon, the tunnel’s this way. You can call me Sister Nuul by the way.” The cultist laughed and motioned for them to follow.

“Fantastic, Sister Nuul.” Ford said cheerfully. Then he mumbled to Stanley, “Let me do the talking.” His brother was good with words, he knew that, but only up to a certain point. When it really came down to negotiating serious diplomatic topics, he was much better for the job. Or at least that was what he told himself as he ignored the faint cry of his subconscious trying to tell him otherwise.

Stan wanted to tell Ford that out of the two of them, he should’ve been the one to do the talking but he never got to since his brother walked off and within earshot of the crazy lady. Sister Nuul led them through the trees for a minute to the opening of a clearly collapsed tunnel. Beside it, it appeared as though the cultists had dug another opening. “Watcha saw back there was our old temple. The enemies of anarchy found it out unfortunately, but we still gotta secret temple through here!” She explained excitedly as she walked through into the depths of the earth. 

‘ Enemies of anarchy? ’ Stan mouthed bewilderedly to Ford, who only shrugged and silently nodded his head for them to go after Sister Nuul. 

The rabies infected werewolf looking woman continued to chatter on happily in the chill and dark, hand dug tunnel as a heavy dread settled in Stan’s gut. Ford must have felt it because he patted his shoulder and gave Stan a look that read, ‘ trust me ’. It gave him a little comfort, but not as much as he was hoping for. After several minutes of listening to the lunatic that was leading them talk endlessly about things that neither brother could honestly say they understood, Stan and Ford emerged from the tunnel and found themselves nestled in the middle of a large outcropping of hill-sized boulders. Nestled in the middle was an entire blocky, pyramidal structure with a stairway on each of the four sides leading to the top. It was painted to reflect the arid landscape around it, camouflaging it and doing a decent job at blending it with the backdrop of the environment. 

“I’m ho-ome!” Sister Nuul screamed, causing several curious heads to poke out from behind rocks and those milling about in the front lawn to turn their head towards her. Many of them were the same snake-like residents local to the dimension, but several, much like Nuul herself, were nothing like them.

Nuul grinned in a rather unhinged manner, so widely it was practically a wince, and asked the brothers, “So, what brings you all here?”

Ford had to tear his gaze away from the temple and violently stamp out the anxious fire that had come to life in his belly in order to answer with an even tone. “I come to you today hoping to make a pilgrimage through the Blind Caverns. I have already undergone the initiation ceremony,” he explained as he gestured to the prosthetic wound applied to his right eye, “and now I am here to obtain the secrets of the universe for my sacrifice.” He held his breath, hoping they would buy it and praying no-one already knew who he was.

The woman led them up the side of the temple and towards the top and simply said, “Okie dokie, you’ve come to the right place ‘cuz some guys were trying to do that too before they disappeared and they’re not here to complain about you going through their stuff.” She giggled, “But we need a sacrifice to tell you more, pledge your loyalty and all that.” 

Stan eyed Ford anxiously and he avoided his gaze, steeling himself as he took in a breath and restated, “Yes, I’ve already removed my eye. That should suffice, should it not?”

Up at the top of the pyramid was a flattened area no larger than a bedroom with a stone terrace covering them overhead and lit by torchlight. In the far corners, two triangular openings in the floor revealed additional sets of stairs that led into the belly of the temple. A single bed sized slab of stone decorated with equilateral triangles along the sides sat in the middle, stained the color of rust from old blood. Five other cultists, also up there with them, listened to their conversation, the fire casting them in eerie shadow. All but one were the snake looking natives and the other made Ford do a double take while his heart did a flip in his chest. 

Sister Nuul giggled. “Well yeah, but no.” She appeared to stop in thought for a moment before asking the fifth cultist, “Hm, Sister Pitzotl, what do you think?”

Sister Pitzotl was an alien race Ford had seen before, hog-like with a row of spikes running down her snout and a pot belly. She looked just as mean as the brute of a man that Ford had brawled with under the ocean to save a city from a bombing, and she wore the eyepatch and robes with heavy golden jewelry to prove it. Her open posture took up space in the room the same way a military officer might, letting everyone know she was the boss and wasn’t afraid to show it. She jabbed a hooved hand towards Stan and snorted with a sneer, “If he wants info outta us, his pal oughta also pay the price.” 

“What? Me?” Stan questioned incredulously as he began to sweat.

The scientists worked to keep his breathing steady and his expression neutral, mostly so he wouldn’t scowl at the pig, as the nervous fire relit itself inside of him. “Isn’t there some sort of work around we could achieve? What about an animal sacrifice?”

Nuul hopped up on the stone altar and chirped, “Nope, we need your eye, brotha’.” 

“Wait,” Stan laughed nervously, “b-but they already removed my appendix. Don’t that count?”

The pig only gave him a confused look and grunted, “To gain the knowledge of the All Seeing Eye, you must have only one eye.”

Ford shot his brother a mostly stern look that had a hint of desperation to it, trying to tell him to keep his mouth shut and let him handle this. But Stanley was being, well, Stan and he cried, “S-so can I just leave instead? My bro’s got one eye, just let him get what he needs and I’ll stay away.”

Sister Nuul narrowed her eye suspiciously. “But you said you were a brother, are you lying now? Are you disloyal? Have you gone back on your word?” She prodded, her hand going to the hilt of her dagger.

Both Sister Pitzotl and Stan were about to open their mouths when Ford blurted just a little too earnestly, “No, he hasn’t. We will proceed.”

Saying Stan was startled would’ve been an understatement. He turned his head to stare bewilderedly at his twin with eyes wide as dinner plates and his mouth hung open in disbelief. But Ford just looked straight ahead testingly into the pig’s eyes and dangerously calm. Then Stan was grabbed by the arms by two of the snakes, who were giddily snickering, and led him to the stone altar. What on earth was Ford thinking? He hoped he had a backup plan because right now, his mind was drawing a blank in the escape plan department since he was currently preoccupied with trying to not lose an eye.

Unsure of whether or not to fight back, Stan only cried, “Woah, woah, hey. Can’t we talk about this before we make any rash decisions?” As he was shoved onto his backside on the slab, facing the east where the sun would rise. His arms and legs were each held by one of the four snakes while he gave Ford a pleading look but he refused to meet his gaze and only lowered his goggles over his eyes, the fire reflecting yellow light off of them and hiding his expression.

“No, the time is now.” Nuul grinned.

Ford’s going to get me killed. The younger of the twins thought panickedly. This was a terrible idea, why did he ever let Ford convince him that this was going to end well? 

Watching Stan being held to the bloody altar was far from a pleasant experience for the scientist so he lowered his goggles, making the cultists unable to read his face. He was surrounded by people who were greatly misguided to say the least and would’ve hated him if they knew who he was, and that made him feel jumpier than a frog in a pond. Now they were incapacitating his own brother with a thirst for blood and he had to use all his rationale to keep from clouding his judgement with fear. Furthermore, everything here only served as praise to Bill, reminding him of the person he had once been and his complicated past with the demon king, being deceived and blinded. Staying calm was harder said than done though, especially since his dinner was wanting to go back into the outside world, but he kept it down as his head rushed to come up with a way to save Stan. 

“Ford, hey! Is anybody home?” Stan yelled.

“Just try to relax Stanley, you will be fine.” Ford responded with a hint of anxiety.

There was always the option of trying to shoot their way out of this, but they were deep into the belly of the beast and since they were heavily outnumbered and he was the only one with a gun, he didn’t like their chances. Perhaps he could try magically igniting his fists with Cipher’s blue flames and try to fib authority over Pitzotl, Ford thought. But no that wouldn’t work, that would change his story of having joined the cult recently enough that his eye was still healing. His eye caught the yellow light of the torches and their reflection in his own goggles and an idea so chilling came to his mind, it made the hair on his neck and arms stand on end. He would have to feign possession by Bill Cipher himself to get out of this. 

“Yeah that’s easy for you to say, Sixer. A complete stranger didn’t do that to your eye.” Stan shot back, choosing his wording very carefully so as to not give their plan away.

“Yes it is, I did it and you can too.” Ford responded, also keeping up their fabricated story.

“That’s real comforting, ya know.” Stan cringed.

“Quiet, both of you. Let me begin.” Sister Pitzotl barked while she unsheathed a dagger with a wavy blade and icy blue flames sprang to life on the weapon. She cleared her throat and started with much authority in her voice, “Brother, you have come to us today seeking knowledge, freedom, and kinship. By joining the Cult of Cipher and becoming a Ciphertologist, these things will be yours.”

I think you just really want to stab someone, lady, but whatever. Stan thought with a mixture of unsettling fear and annoyance.

The other cultists atop the temple cheered and Ford clapped along with Nuul, albeit stiffly. He uneasily awaited the right moment, unsure of exactly when that would be, to enact plan B and save Stan’s eye. 

“Heh heh, yay.” Stan said weakly, sending his twin another pleading look. Ford’s face was still unreadable because of his stupid coverings as he stood right in front of him with his hands behind his back. It would’ve been nice to at least know what he was thinking.

Sister Pitzotl raised the knife high above her head, in line with Stan’s right eye. Stan swallowed hard as his heart tried to escape the confines of his chest. This is what he got for trusting Ford. 

She continued with a hiss, “You are a sacrifice for Cipher, the sun sets on this life and because of Cipher, you will be reborn anew with the star of the-”

BANG! 

A bullet whizzed by the pig’s head and landed right at Ford’s feet, causing him to jump backwards in fright. In the next second, everything exploded into confusion and chaos as the snakes bolted off down the stairs and Sister Nuul threw off her cultist robes to reveal she was really dressed in a white loincloth with four bells around her waist, and nodded at Stan, “Evening.” Then she pulled a gun and began screaming at Sister Pitzotl, “Drop your weapon, you’re under arrest!” 

Down below, a plethora of screaming and the wail of sirens could be heard. But the pig ignored this and sneered at Nuul with her fist lighting up with crackling electricity, only to be pummeled in the side of the head by Stan. She went down like a stone and her dagger noisily met the floor. Nuul was on her in a second, cuffing her hooved hands to her back.

“Ford we gotta go.” Stan cried with an anxious expression, running past him and down the stairs. He didn’t get very far however, as he was swarmed by a number of the snakes, darkly armored and wielding large rifles, which backed him up all the way back to Ford. 

“Hands in the air.” One of them demanded in a deep, synth-like voice behind a full faced mask with blinking lights.

“Wait, you don’t understand. We were undercover too.” Ford tried reasoning as he slowly raised his arms.

“Y-yeah, we don’t want any trouble.” Stan said quickly, also raising his hands. He glanced at his brother and this time, he was looking back at him.

Maybe we do. I could always try the Quantum Destabilizer. Ford thought a little too late because his hands were tied by the newcomers before he could actually consider that as an option.

“Likely story.” Nuul scoffed from behind them, tightening the pig’s restraints as she started to stir.

The two humans were led down the steps while Nuul hoisted Sister Pitzotl to her feet and she began to angrily squeal curses. She was talking so fast Ford wasn’t sure if they were actual curses or just expletives. In the desert down below, a dozen or more local law enforcement vehicles were parked in front of the pyramid, with all of the cultists rounded up and being carried away into prisoner transport trucks.

“Wow this is the second time I’ve been arrested in space now.” Stan noted, trying to discreetly strain his fingers to reach the lock picking kit he had stowed up his sleeve.

“How were you or I or anyone supposed to know this was going to happen?” Ford barked. “This is simply a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Stan rolled his eyes. “Well even if the cops didn’t show up and crash the place, what were you gonna do about the crazies anyways huh?”

Ford shifted uneasily in his restraints and responded quietly, “I was hoping to use the lighting of the fire to convince them I was possessed by Cipher and use that to get us into the temple with all our body parts still attached.”

Their feet left the stony steps and hit sandy dirt and Stan stated with some surprise, “Well I, I uh guess that’s somethin’ at least.” 

“Oh don’t act all shocked, I actually had a plan now.” Ford huffed with an eye roll as he was forcefully sat on the dirt at the front of a police car.

Stan was also taken off his feet next to his twin and all but one of the law enforcement officers that had escorted them down left to attend to other duties while they remained guarded. He grunted, “Well after you threw me to cultists up there, I don’t know, maybe you were gonna let me die.”

“I wouldn’t let you die Stan, don’t be so dramatic.” Ford scowled, resting his head back against the grill of the car.

“I know that, it’s just-” He shrugged and trailed off. There was something nagging at him, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Speaking of which, that damn lock picking kit was still refusing to come loose from his sleeve.

The scientist sighed, “Well, I’m sorry we’re in such a situation.”

“There’s nothin’ to be sorry for Sixer, it ain’t your fault.” Stan comforted, his head reaching to grasp at something vague that wasn’t sitting right with him when he said those words. He hadn’t liked when Ford had offered him to the cultists but everything had turned out just fine, so why did he still feel so off?

“Oh hey! I know you!” A new voice cried from off to the side. Suddenly there was a dark and glossy chitinous insectoid with massive pincers and formidable spikes that sat on his hips and shoulders approaching them. He also carried a gigantic scoped rifle with him, along with two bells that hung from his neck and a few white beaded bracelets around his wrists. “You’re Katee’s friend, aren’t you?” He asked, pointing to Stan.

Before Stan could respond, Ford had shaken his goggles free from his head and said, “Well that would be both of us, actually.”

He stared at them for a moment, his compound eyes going back and forth between the twins. “...Why are there two of you?”

“Well I’m Stan and this guy here is my twin bro, Ford.” Stan explained, gesturing to his carbon copy with his head. “And you are…?”

The insectoid held out his hand to shake but then realized they couldn’t and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Heh, I’m Luik. So uh, what are you guys doing here?”

“Bein’ falsely detained.” Stan grumbled under his breath.

Ford nodded in agreement to his brother’s words and told the paladin, “I’m afraid we’ve been caught up in a big misunderstanding, Luik. You see, we too were going undercover in hopes to find some information that we needed.”

“We need to kick Cipher’s angle but we can’t do that without what’s inside that temple.” Stan explained further.

Luik’s eyes widened considerably. “Oh,” he gasped, “yes that sounds very important. Let me get you out of those cuffs then.”

Stan slid the restraints off of his own wrists and rubbed them as he stood. “Hah, no need. C’mere Ford, I’ll get you out too.”

Ford stood and Stan undid his bindings too. “Impressive.” He complimented.

“Oh it was nothin’.” Stan grinned.

Luik slightly fluttered his wings anxiously and said, “Hey Ford, I just wanted to say sorry for almost shooting you, that’s really what I came over here to tell you.”

“Oh that was you?” Stan asked with a surprised smile. “You saved my bacon pal.”

Just then, Nuul led Sister Pitzotl to a nearby prisoner transport truck maybe twenty paces away and the cultist made dangerous eye contact with Stan. She screamed at him, “Bill told me you were coming, you’re so lucky! I was gonna cut out your heart and you never would’ve seen it coming!” The pig was thrown into the back of the vehicle and the doors were slammed in her face.

“But not her’s.” Stan laughed loudly, only getting a loud groan and an eye roll from Ford in response.

“Thanks, but I was aiming for her head.” The bug chuckled embarrassedly.

“Yes well I must admit you did have impeccable timing, Luik.” Ford commented, mentally stowing away what Pitzotl had said about Cipher to stew on later as Nuul  approached them with a stony face.

“You know we call him the worst sniper in dimensions one through one hundred for a reason, right?” She stated with folded arms. “I take it Luik must have had a good reason for letting you two go.” She said with narrowed eyes and a voice as serious as a heart attack.

Stan blinked dumbfoundedly at Nuul. “I just gotta say sister, you can really act.”

“Thanks.” She said dryly. “Now, why are you out of cuffs and more importantly, will I have to put you back into them?”

Luik rested a chitinous hand on her shoulder. “Hey relax Nuul, they’re Katee’s friends. And they need to get into the temple.”

The paladin tilted her head, sniffed at them with her canine nose, and scoffed, “Very well then, friends of Katee. We’ve cleared the building but make Luik go with you and don’t touch anything unless it’s strictly necessary, this is a crime scene.” She leaned in close to the brothers and added in a low voice, “I’m only letting you in because Katee’s a good gal, don’t tarnish my opinion of her.”

“Ma’am, yes ma’am.” Stan saluted with a grin.

“We heard you loud and clear.” Ford responded.

Nuul backed off with a stiff nod and marched off, barking orders to anyone who would listen.

“Geez, what a crabby lady.” Stan grunted once Nuul was out of earshot.

“Yup, that’s Nuul for you. She gets things done though, so I can’t complain too much.” Luik shrugged as he led them to the temple stairs. “The locals have been no help so she’s been extra, uh, herself. I think they’re all cultist sympathizers personally. That’s why we had to get out of region law enforcement to help us on this operation.”

“Well then no wonder they were all crazy lookin’.” Stan laughed, elbowing Ford in the ribs.

“Yes, that certainly makes sense.” He sighed, tearing the gauze and wiping the makeup from his face as he stared up at the temple in front of them. A heavy feeling rested in his gut knowing they were going back in there, but it had to be done. He tried to ignore it and abruptly changed the subject and queried, “Stan, are you worried about what Pitzotl said about us? Because I know I certainly am, it means Bill is-”

“Aware of us an’ tryin’ to stop us? Yep, I get it. But that pointy jerk can’t scare me Sixer, if anything he ought to be scared of us.” Stan smiled, reassuring his brother with a firm pat on the back. Truth be told, he was worried for his safety, partially because he thought the Multiverse was nuts and partially because there was a raging demon that wanted them dead. So nothing had really changed, he reasoned, the threats he already knew about were just louder now. But it was Ford he was actually concerned about, he was the one who was with him 24/7 and really had the capability to hurt him. That was the worst because he could do it in unintentional ways, like nonchalantly throwing him to violent cultists.

Ford pinched his nose as their feet hit the steps. “I understand you’re trying to make me feel better Stan, but tell me really, aren’t you worried?”

“I mean yeah, I know what kinda guy Bill is, but I ain’t gonna sweat it.” Stan dictated, readjusting the weight of his pack on his shoulders as Luik led them across the temple top and down the narrow, triangular stairway lit by the ball of light magically summoned in the paladin’s hand.

The scientist hummed in thought, quietly disagreeing while he had to keep his head low to not hit it on the limestone ceiling. Bill being on his mind did nothing to help his unease as they went further down into the home of his worshippers. In the belly of the temple was a hall decorated completely by heavy, yellow stone and triangular motifs with a dotting of eyes carved into the ceiling that made Ford involuntarily wince. Several rows of skulls had holes drilled into the sides of their craniums and were lined up on racks in between triangular doorways leading to tiny bedrooms. The whole place was awfully cramped, with the little group having to walk with a slight crouch and in a single file line in order to fit. There was a deep, cavernous hum in the air while a chill suddenly seeped into his flesh, sending a shiver down Ford’s spine and he felt like the walls were beginning to close in around him to swallow him up and bury him. His anxiety was running at full speed now as his shoulders brushed against the rough rock and the sounds of their shoes scraping against the gravely floor was like sandpaper against his ears while the light from Luik’s spell was now much too bright.

“Well this is… nice.” Stan shivered from in front of him while he eyed the skulls like he owed them a large sum of money. He and tight spaces tended to disagree and he tried to ignore the way his heart had picked up its pace ever since they had descended the stairs.

Stan’s words hit Ford’s ears like the shockwave of an explosion and he grimaced painfully. “Yes, I’ve never actually been inside one of these before.” Ford stated slowly, like his mouth was full of cotton, with unease in his voice.

“Ford, are ya okay?” Stan asked, keeping his own disquiet out of his voice.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just don’t- like it here.” He managed to get out, grabbing a few DnD & more D dice from his pocket to move around in his hand to hopefully distract himself with.

“Alright, let’s be quick then.” Stan grunted, a subtle look of empathy on his face. It didn’t take a genius to know why Ford would be upset.

“So what is it that we are looking for exactly?” Luik inquired.

“That’s the thing, I dunno.” Stan informed the insect, turning on his own flashlight and shining it into room after room, hoping something would stand out to him. And stand out something did, for the next bedroom he peered into was a framed photo of a familiar looking avian cultist, the one he had overheard in prison, standing next to Nuul. “Oh hey in here, I think we found our guy.” He said, dipping through the low doorway and into the miniscule bedroom.

There was nothing more than a wraparound stone desk and a bed made from adobe blocks in the minimally decorated room and Stan and Luik began to go through the dozens of pages strewn around on the face of the table. Ford sat on the bed and squeezed his eyes shut, hugging his free arm tightly to his chest as he continued to fidget with the dice in his other hand. It was rather frustrating for him, being the closest they had been the entire time to their goal but being held back because of his own head. His pre-existing situational anxiety had not mixed well with the sensations of the cramped temple and now he felt just awful all over. But he couldn’t leave, not when they were this far, he had to push through this. He cursed Cipher for his current state, blaming it on him made him feet a little bit better. As did closing his eyes and taking the time to really breathe, he found, it was like he could convince himself he was safe if he just sat here a minute longer. So that’s what he did, and little bit by little bit, he felt his brain think easier and the heaviness in his limbs dissipate.

Stan abruptly groaned, getting Ford’s attention. “Sixer, there’s nothin’ here, it’s just some nonsense about how the Blind Caverns are a test of strength. Anyone coulda told me that.” He picked up a few sheets of paper that were strewn all over the desk and riffled through them. “Yadda yadda, the caves are a test and to pass you overcome the obstacles of the… what’s that say? This guy’s got terrible handwriting.” He huffed.

Luik leaned over Stan’s shoulder and read, “The obstacles of the Grasping Hands, All-Seeing Eyes, and the fast of hunger and thirst. Through the right discipline, I could shield myself from the Cavern’s physical attacks. But I need to remember that to welcome their voices is to welcome Cipher into your mind.” He recoiled upon reading that aloud.

“We ain’t doin’ that last one, that’s for sure.” The gruffer of the twins said with a head shake. “See Ford, it’s all vague, unhelpful crap.”

“You’re absolutely positive this is the right cultist’s room?” Ford said with a slight whine.

His twin grabbed the picture frame of the feathered prison cultist, knocking a stray sheet of parchment from the desk, and handed it to him. But Ford wasn’t interested in the photo, he eyed the paper that had fallen and exclaimed, “Wait, what is that? Give it here.”

Stan picked up the page puzzledly and held it up to Ford. “It’s blank, Sixer. Are you sure you’re feelin’ alright?”

“What? No it’s not, it’s a map.” Ford gasped, grabbing it from Stan’s hands while an immense grin covered his face. “A map of the Blind Caverns.” The sudden rush of positive emotion threatened to overwhelm his delicate state and he had to slow his head down and take a deep breath lest he shut down again. So instead of rapid firing everything he knew about what was going on, he calmly explained, “I can see it because I have, well, certain ties to Cipher so to speak. I’ve actually made one of these before, for the first time I entered the Nightmare Realm and met Mabel. I assumed I could remember the path, but I suppose I was mistaken.”

“So this is good news, right? This is finally progress?” Stan asked enthusiastically, a cautious smile forming on his face.

Ford felt a smile come to his eyes that lifted his soul. “Yes Stanley, we are officially one step closer to the Nightmare Realm. This map will be immensely helpful.” Upon closer inspection, the map appeared to be made from thin leather and written in blood, just as his own had been. A top down view of the entrance to the Blind Caverns was all that was on the sheet, but Ford knew from experience that the map would move with them once they got inside again. He folded up and pocketed the flap of skin, keeping it safely stored in his black trench coat until it was needed.

His twin improvised a dance as Ford somewhat clumsily sifted through the same papers Luik and Stan had while he had composed himself. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t still currently at war with his anxiety in this less than pleasant location, but he was holding it back for now. “Useless, useless…” He grumbled, irritated that Stan was right, there was very little good information here. 

“We got a map, oh yeah, we got a map.” Stan was saying happily, on the borderline between singing and talking. He laughed and smiled, “Now we’re gonna go kick Bill’s ass.”

Ford covered his ears and groaned, “Stan please, could you be quiet?”

Stan froze mid jig and had the decency to look apologetic. He said softly, “Sorry Sixer, you wanted to get outta here, huh?” 

Ford only nodded, talking was getting difficult again.

Once they were back outside, Ford felt like he could actually breathe again. Even better, most of the people and vehicles that had previously been around were gone, leaving the night quiet and calm. Luik walked off across the little clearing in front of the temple to speak with Nuul and the old scientist rested against the cool face of a boulder. Stan sat next to him, letting him settle down until he was ready to talk.

Through the right discipline, I could shield myself from the Cavern’s physical attacks. Ford recited in his head, reflecting on the cultist’s writings.

“Hm, but how to shield ourselves…” He mumbled to himself after several minutes of contemplative silence.

Stan apparently heard him because he said, “Do we really even need to? Heck don’t get me wrong, it’d definitely be nice, but we got the map an’ that means we can zip through the caves before they even know what hit them, right?”

Ford reminded, “Even when I last had the map, they still took me several hours to cross. We need to be protected from the hands and the eyes… And a way to keep our food and more importantly, our water, from turning.”

“Don’t forget about those pleasant little madness inducing voices.” Stan added sarcastically.

The scientist huffed and completely missed his twin’s sarcasm. “They’re the exact opposite of pleasant Stan, and I’m not so sure if that’s even achievable. My metal plate didn’t help at all and it was designed by the oracle, runes and all.”

His brother picked up a small rock and tossed it out in front of him. “Well at least Katee’s bells sure came in handy, they knocked the crazy right out of us.” 

“Yes, but they didn’t last long.” Ford mused. “We need something stronger, like Mabel’s dagger. It was capable of completely shielding her from the demoness Ysithyl’s magic. It’s reasonable that a similar artifact could theoretically protect us.” He furrowed his brows at his own words, thinking back to the time he had left Mabel behind in Dimension 52. The man became even more upset with his past self than he already was in that moment, for had he really seen Mabel’s unique skill set, perhaps they could have traveled the Blind Caverns together and put Cipher six feet under for good. He and Stan most certainly wouldn’t have been in their current situation if that had been the case.

Ford glanced back at his Quantum Destabilizer that hung from his backpack and brushed his fingertips against the map of the Blind Caverns in his coat pocket. Those had been the only two things he had needed to make it to the Nightmare Realm two and a half years ago and it was strange to him to be so hesitant to return to the caves despite theoretically having everything he needed. But things were different now, he had more for the Caverns to prey on, more humanity to have taken advantage of. So Stan was right, they did need an upgrade, one that would be the additional protection they needed. But then he remembered that Mabel’s dagger had never particularly taken a liking to him for reasons he was still unsure of. Then there was the fact that despite knowing much about Axolotl magic, he had never been able to cast so much as a Light Spell. But he knew the equipment they had now wasn’t going to be enough to make it to Bill and Katee’s magic did have a positive effect on them in the Blind Caverns, so logically he knew he would have to try to make it work anyways.

Stan shivered, remembering the far from fun time he had spent losing his marbles in a dark and damp crack deep beneath a cursed mountain. “So you’re saying we could use an equipment upgrade?”

“I suppose I am.” Ford said simply.

A lightbulb went off in Stan’s head so he snapped his fingers and began, “Hey those paladin guys, they dedicate their whole lives to fighting Bill, don’t you think they could have some pointers for us?”

“I’m not sure, if Katee couldn’t-” Ford started softly but was cut off by his twin yelling over him.

Stan saw the disagreeing look come to Ford’s face and didn’t even bother to wait for his response, instead he decided his idea was good enough and called, “Hey Luik, Nuul, c’mere a second,” as he tried to ignore the little voice in the back of his head that told him he had to be kidding if he thought he could come up with a better idea than his brother.

The two religious warriors, who had been speaking in a low tone to one another across the clearing, moved their gazes to the man and walked over. Luik waved as he approached and Nuul crossed her arms.

The furry woman remarked, “Luik tells me you guys want to cross the Blind Caverns, that’s gutsy. I like it.”

Oh now she likes us. Ford thought irritatedly but didn’t let it show.

“Yeah we’re great,” Stan chuckled, “but you don’t think you could give us some pointers on repelling demon magic, now could ya? Or know how to keep food and water from decaying in the presence of an eldritch horror?”

Nuul rubbed her chin and responded, “No, but Paladin Thaem could I bet. She’s next in line to become an oracle, I’ll say it now. She was real close to Oracle Mateh before he died and was his best student. So rumor has it she spends all her time protecting the legendary weapon of the late oracle.”

“I hear she has nine whole bells.” Luik added.

“Is that like, a lot or something?” Stan said in a gravely tone.

Nuul put in seriously, “She does have nine bells, the most of any paladin I’ve ever seen. Jheselbraum has a dozen.”

“Which dimension does this Thaem reside in?” Ford inquired, steering the conversation back on track while he got to his feet. He was rather pleased to hear Nuul speak on the possibility of an enchanted weapon that could be of use to them since it lined up perfectly with his hypothesis on Mabel’s dagger in the Blind Caverns.

“Dimension 19#;, in the city of Alulohc.” The insectoid said. “Oh! But I do know this, there’s a paladin who makes Blessed Vessels for food preservation in Dimension 212-L. They’re real nice, I actually had one until I recently broke it, so I’d give mine to you if I had it. They’re real fragile though, y-you should be aware.”

“Perfect, we’ll get those later then. But for now I believe we’re off to Dimension 19#;.” Ford informed them, writing everything down in his journal. He shut the book, offered Stan a hand up, and hoisted him to his feet.

“Hey, thanks for everything you two. We’ll see ya around, yeah?” He saluted.

“Goodbye and goodluck.” Luik waved as they headed back for the tunnel they had arrived from. “And tell Katee I said hello when you see her next.”

“Will do.” Stan promised and ducked into the tunnel after Ford.

Two hours later and the brothers were camped under a blanket of twinkling stars, on their way to the nearest open portal, which was another half day of walking away. The twins had decided they were too worn out to make the trek under the cover of darkness and set up camp for the night to travel when the sun rose. With bed rolls laid out side by side in front of a mellow fire, Ford finished off the last of his rationed freeze-dried stew as Stan read through an issue of Captain Nazi-Puncher that Mabel had stowed away in his bag.

Speaking of Mabel, Stan closed the comic and broke the silence. “Do you think the kiddos are doin’ alright?”

“I have no reason to believe they’d be unsafe. They’re protected by both the unicorn barrier and the eye scanner.” Ford said simply, hoping his logical approach would comfort his brother.

“No I mean,” he gestured vaguely at the fire, “do you think they miss us? Do they feel the same without their grunkles home?”

“Well I’m sure they miss us just like we miss them, that is human nature after all.” He replied with a wistful smile, thinking back on the good times he had with the family in Gravity Falls. 

Stan laughed softly as he tucked the graphic novel back into his backpack and laid down. “What if we were there right now? Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Yes, it would be.” Ford said softly as he got into bed, telling half truth to be agreeable.

“Hey, but we’re gettin’ there. That bastard triangle’s days are numbered and then it’ll all be over.” Stan yawned. “Well, g’night Ford.”

“That is very true. Goodnight, Stanley.” Ford smiled slightly and closed his eyes. 

But sleep didn’t come to the old scientist, not yet at least as the full yellow, ringed moon shone high overhead. It didn’t bother him much anymore, a less than stable sleep schedule had been his constant companion since he and Mabel had first returned home. Which was odd, he realized, opening his eyes to gaze up at the sky in contemplation. His hypothesis had been that he was only sleeping so poorly because his subconscious wanted him to do something about defeating Bill. But now he was and nothing had changed, the lingering feeling of aimlessness and background anxiety had hardly diminished one ounce since returning to the stars, much unlike what he had thought would happen. If he was being transparent with himself, he still felt rather out of place sometimes, even with Stan by his side, as if his many sins had put a wall between them. His focus was on his family, on Stan, yet he found himself laying here, his head a mess of complicated unease. What was this fear and why was it sticking around? 

As he recounted the events of the day, he thought he had fought to uproot Cipher’s nasty lies from his head, to rid himself from him entirely. But still, Bill was causing trouble in the depths of his brain, dragging him down to the verge of panicking inside that blasted temple. It infuriated him that after so long he was still far from at peace regarding that massive thorn in his life. Ford pondered over his mental state when he finally registered his thought process with the cultists and Stan at the temple. When it came down to the wire and his brother’s eye was on the line, he hadn’t completely trusted Stan and instead had relied on his own wit when attempting to get them inside, telling him to leave the talking to him. But why? Logically, he knew Stan was trustworthy with the things that really mattered. Despite that, some part of him was still hesitant and his head spun trying to discover why.

Caught up in his own self reflection with eyes shut tight, Stan was unaware of his twin’s anxieties. His journey thus far in the Multiverse had made for plenty of opportunities to grow closer to Ford, his carbon copy he had spent so many years apart from. Because he had a lot of lost time to make up for, a lot of proving himself to Ford still remained. He liked to think he had been rather useful to his twin, getting them the lead on the cultist temple and discovering the huge waste of time that was the Library of Truth in Dimension 3-A. You’re brilliantly clever. Ford’s words to him in the sewers after their prison escape came to his mind and he held on to them like a lifebuoy in an ocean storm. What a mess of a misunderstanding that had been, he thought with a silent groan. 

But what happened today with the cultists hadn’t been, he recognized while something in his head clicked into place. He hadn’t liked the way Ford had made the decision with the cultists for him. Because he wasn’t sure he completely trusted Ford, he realized. Huh, did he trust Ford? That question had been nagging at him ever since they had leapt through a hole in space to begin with, always at the back of his mind. All it took was a couple of life threatening events over the course of a month to get him to finally get his head to acknowledge that no, he couldn’t honestly say he completely trusted his brother. He knew Ford meant well, but sometimes he swore he felt like he was having to get to know him for the first time. Like they were still so far apart. That gave him a bad feeling, one that was empty and hollow, that settled sadly in his stomach.

Both twins let their minds wander down parallel lonely paths, side by side yet somehow still too distant to see one another, until they were lulled away to sleep.

Chapter Text

The whole house seemed to hush as Dipper sat at the kitchen table on a mid December day, a handbell in one hand. Evening light spilled through the window into the room, setting it alight with an orange glow as the last of the day’s tourists were heading to their vehicles. Mabel was sitting on the other side while she watched her brother with great interest as Waddles napped at her feet, barely able to fit under the furniture at all. The boy quieted his overactive mind, relaxing the part of him that worried over Pacifica, the section that wondered if Grunkle Stan and Ford were safe, and the portion that was eager to get the last few school days before winter break over with. All that was there in that moment was him and his senses. 

“Focus, Dipper.” Mabel breathed.

“I am.” He responded and rang the handbell.

“Shh no talking, only magic!” She whispered back, pressing a finger to his lips.

Dipper wanted to tell her that he actually did have to speak to cast a spell but he let it go and said the words he needed to instead. His sister nodded enthusiastically at what he said and he took it as a good sign. But after tracing the runes out in front of him and nothing happened, her face fell.

“Aw nuts, I thought for sure that time was gonna be it.” She said, slamming her fist on the table and startling Waddles awake. 

The young man couldn’t say he was all that disappointed. “That’s ok, I can still make a mean potion.”

The girl giggled, “That you can, that you can. You’re the world’s top potionologist.” 

He smiled slightly at his sister’s compliment. “Thanks, Mabel.”

Just then, Pacifica walked into the room, hanging up Dipper’s phone. She placed it on the table near her boyfriend and told the twins, “Your parents really are just the sweetest. I think it’s nice they wanted to talk to me too.” It made her glad to know that at least some adults in her life respected her as a person. 

Her boyfriend took his cellphone back and replied, “Aren’t they? It’s too bad mom couldn’t get Christmas off work.”

“Hey, we’ll celebrate everything on our own and it’ll be just as good, if not better. I promise.” Pacifica reassured him as she squeezed his hand.

Mabel squealed with delight. “Dipper, it’s almost sunset. We gotta make our trek to the supply closet.” 

No two Friday afternoons at the Mystery Shack were ever the same, especially not since Mabel had come home. But today in particular was special because that night at sundown marked the beginning of Hanukkah. Needless to say, Mabel was overly excited to get the festivities underway. She had been counting down the minutes to the beginning of the holiday all throughout the day, from opening the shack with Soos, to practicing all sorts of spellcasting in the attic, and now while she helped Dipper to become a baby wizard. 

A twinkle came to Dipper’s eyes as he got out of his chair, nearly matching his sister’s enthusiasm. “Race you there.”

“Haha, eat my dust dork.” Mabel laughed, taking off without looking back.

But Dipper didn’t rush after his sister. Instead he leisurely strolled through the house with his girlfriend since he wasn’t really in a running mood, chuckling silently to himself as he watched Mabel run away. That evening had a pleasantly calm sort of magical atmosphere to him, one that was best enjoyed by taking the time to soak it all up and treasure every little moment. Knowing eight whole days of celebration was ahead of him tended to do that, he supposed. Furthermore, Pacifica was going to be done with school for the rest of the year that upcoming Wednesday and with a pause in her suffering near, it did much to lift his spirits. They passed by the bathroom that had been chewed up by the Eye Stealer, the water damage along the floorboards and baseboards still visible. Unfortunately more major repairs just weren’t in the budget right now, not after Soos had replaced the vending machine and the shattered sink. 

Just like he had expected, Mabel came back around the hall corner and sped behind them, pushing them along. “C’mon slowpokes, the sun is setting.” She chirped.

“That’s a good thing, Mabel. Don’t worry, we have time.” Dipper chuckled.

“No we don’t, there’s so much we gotta dooooo.” Mabel pressed with a grin.

Pacifica laughed at her friend’s eagerness as she pushed behind them. “It’s not like the sun sets all that fast, girl.”

“But it does, c’mon. I gotta get to the supply closet before it does.” She responded.

“But we’re already here.” Dipper observed, stopping his sauntering to open the door to the small room filled with dusty boxes stacked precariously on top of one another.

Mabel looked up from the floor and realized that he was right, they had in fact already made it. “Oh sweet, we did it. I knew we could.” She said as she grabbed the box labeled ‘Hanukkah’ out of one of the storage closets in the hall of the main floor.

As the girl lifted the box out of the back of the closet, something moved out of sight and Pacifica screamed and practically jumped into Dipper’s arms. “There’s a rat!” She shrieked.

Mabel set her box down and moved another to get a good look at the rodent. “Oh, hey little guy. Who’s a cute little flea infested vermin? Yes you- are not, actually. You could really use a glow up my guy.” 

Pacifica took several uneasy steps back. “Mabel, that thing is disgusting. It needs to die.”

Dipper held his arms out in front of her protectively and stood between her and the vermin. “It’s okay, we’ll protect you.”

The thing that stared back at Mabel was nearly the size of a cat with mangy, deep brown fur and a scabbed over tail that looked like the carrier of at least three different infectious diseases. Rotting, yellow teeth filled its jaws and its beady eyes glowed a fiery red as small arcs of crimson electricity crackled across its body. When it made eye contact with the girl, it hissed with a foamy mouth and dashed out of the closet and down the hall to hide away in some dark crevice.

Pacifica screamed the second it moved and clung to Dipper’s backside. “Kill it, kill it. Oh where’d it go?”

Dipper felt for his girlfriend and he really couldn’t say he blamed her reaction. That rat was hideous to look at, not to mention completely supernatural, which filled him with excitement. Because last time he checked, rats didn’t emit sparks of electricity. Because of the position Pacifica was in, the attempt he made at hugging her back was rather awkward so he gave up and instead asked, “Woah Mabel, that thing was totally electric. Did you see it?”

“Uh yeah, of course I saw it. It was all like, bzzzt, bzzzt, bzzzt.” She said, taking the holiday box back into her arms.

“We gotta go after it and capture it.” He exclaimed with a smile.

Pacifica groaned and placed her hands on his shoulders. “Dipper Pines, I forbid you from doing that.”

“Wo-ah, using his full name.” Mabel snickered and then said in a more serious tone, “But seriously bro-bro, you don’t really want to spend tonight of all nights searching the house for one diseased rodent, do you?”

Dipper was torn. Part of him had been looking forward to celebrating the festivities with his family all day but now there was an anomaly in the house and that needed to be looked into. As his eyes went back and forth between his twin and significant other, he came to the conclusion that he could shelf this anomaly hunt for another time. This was Mabel’s first Hanukkah back from the other side of the portal and that made tonight extra special. Because she was right, there were more important things to be doing than running around the house looking for a rat, now was time for spending with his family. 

His eyes went to the floor and he shook his head. “No, I just got excited.” But then he raised his head and said, “C’mon, let’s go have fun.”

A short time later, the trio and Soos gathered back around the kitchen table just as the last of the sun’s light disappeared behind the mountains, allowing the stars to take over the sky. An empty and simplistic fifty year old Menorah sat in the window sill, with a Mabel knitted blue and white table runner complimenting its dull brass exterior. The brunette girl placed the first candle in the rightmost spot, as well as the shamash, or helper candle, in the center. Before lighting any fires however, Dipper recited three short blessings in a language Pacifica had never heard before. This was her first Hanukkah with the Pines family, even if it was just with Mabel and Dipper, and she was gladly soaking up every new custom and tradition of tonight. 

She knew some things about the holiday previously, since Mabel had refused to shut up about it all week, and had managed to work together with Dipper to repurpose her Christmas gift into a joint Hanukkah gift with him. But what was going on with the candles and her boyfriend reciting something in a foreign language, she had no idea. In the years past, her father had never allowed her to visit the Pines during the holidays, using the excuse that she should spend time with her real family instead of them. It had always infuriated her, especially last December, and she had picked up so many extra shifts at Greasy’s in retaliation that her father had threatened to force her to quit. That was why his return to Gravity Falls stung her so much, she thought his days of terrorizing her were over.

Realizing her mind was wandering to dark places it really shouldn’t have been, the blonde curiously watched as Mabel held the center candle in her hand with a smile and lit it. Then she reached over and lit the singular candle on the right side of the slightly rusty Menorah with the first candle and put it back in the middle. Dipper seemed to be enjoying himself with the proud grin he was giving his sister. Even Soos was happily watching the scene play out, even if he did look as confused as she felt. Well whatever, if it was important to the Pines then it was important to her.

“That’s like super cool that you guys know how to do that.” Pacifica smiled, grateful to have been in the position to share such a cultural event with her friends. To think that she may have never befriended them filled her with gratitude for what she had now. 

“Uh-hu, and it means we get to celebrate two holidays at once for an ultimate festivities explosion.” Mabel chirped. But as the words left her mouth, a downcast longing feeling pierced her heart as she suddenly realized the scale of the emptiness that permeated the room without Grunkle Stan and Ford there with them. Dipper seemed to notice this because he gave her a little frown of concern, to which she clarified more quietly, “It’s just a bummer Grunkle Stan and Ford aren’t here.”

Dipper nodded sadly, also feeling what his sister was now. How strange it was for him to be so joyous to be here with his twin again yet missing the other half of the family. It felt like a trade-off in a way, but one he was grateful for all things considered. The grunkles had left on their own accord, not forcefully taken from the earth like Mabel had been. “Yeah it is,” his sorrowful expression turned bittersweet, a smile accompanied by sorrowful eyes, “b-but they wouldn’t want us worrying about them. Grunkle Stan would tell us to go all out and party twice as hard to make up for him not being here.” He put a comforting arm around her shoulders and hoped it would help.

Mabel took his reassurance well and perked up a decent amount. “Yeah you’re right, Dipper… And Grunkle Ford would say something silly like, time is relative so maybe I’m actually there.” She giggled and continued, “Well anyways, lemme get a good look at this beauty,” holding her fingers out in front of her at the Menorah like they were framing a photo. As she stepped back to admire her fancy work she promptly tripped over something furry as it ran by. Pacifica saw its little, red eyes and disgusting tail as it raced over her feet to get away and she screeched. Mabel grabbed onto Dipper’s shirt as she fell and took him down with her and both ended up on the ground.

“Oh woah, bros is everyone okay? What happened?” Soos asked as he helped the twins off the floor.

“It’s the rat again. Oh ew, it ran over my feet.” Pacifica fretted, the holiday joy curdling in her stomach like old milk. She glared in the direction the vermin had gone; the creature had managed to kill her coziness in a matter of seconds.

“If there’s a rat in here, then I’ll be sure to catch it. I may have graduated from a humble handyman to Mr. Mystery, but I’m still handy.” Soos vowed, straightening the fez on his head.

“You better. That thing’s ruining my night.” Pacifica huffed as she crossed her arms. She couldn’t get the feeling of its little feet darting over her’s out of her head and it made her want to scrub them for an hour straight in the tub.

Dipper dusted his cargo pants off and responded, “It’s fine Paz, it’s fine. Let’s just try to spend some nice time together anyways.” 

The cheer returning to her cheeks, Mabel skipped around Soos and Dipper and cheered, “I know what’ll help you out, Paz. It’s present time, get ready for the real party to start.” Without waiting for any responses, she sprinted up the stairs to presumably fetch her gifts.

As it turned out, Mabel was right because Pacifica glanced at Soos and smirked as some excitement returned to her. She and Dipper shared a grin and he hurried off to his bedroom to do the same as his sister. As for Pacifica, she decided the best place to keep her gift was simply under the Christmas tree, where it looked fabulous and wasn’t hiding away in the dark. It was on the heavier side so by the time she had hoisted out from under the tree, Mabel had returned with a stack of three perfectly wrapped gifts, each smaller than the next. Dipper made it back to the living room with two modestly sized, rectangular presents and set them out on the carpet next to Mabel’s gifts. The blonde put her wrapped box down in the pile with the rest of them and took a seat on the floor next to Dipper, while Mabel sat perched on the yellow couch like a queen the way her unicorn hair cloak spilled down her sides.

“Soos, get in here! Don’t think we forgot about you.” The brunette cried.

Soos stood awkwardly on the stairs and rubbed his forearm. “Are you sure?” He chuckled nervously, “I mean, I didn’t know presents were a part of all this so I didn’t get you dudes anything, not for Hanukkah at least. I’m sorry.”

Dipper beamed, “Hey- don’t be sorry, of course we’re sure. Plus, there might just be something in here for you too.” He told him, gesturing to the pile of presents.

With her head leaning against Dipper’s shoulder, Pacifica added, “I know as much about this as you do, Soos. We can learn together.”

The man couldn’t hold back his grin as Mabel led him by the hand and sat him down on the carpet next to the couple. She stood tall in front of the pile of gifts like a ruler watching over her subjects and tapped her finger to her jaw in thought. Then she grabbed her dagger and brought the hilted end to her mouth to use as a make-believe microphone and announced, “As your official hostess for Hanukkah gift giving, I would like to thank you all for coming out here tonight.”

Dipper laughed while Pacifica and Soos applauded. Mabel placed a hand over her brows and scanned the space like it was an expansive event room. “The venue looks pretty crowded today so I hope you were all able to find parking.”

“If I find out I got ticketed I’m leaving a bad review.” Pacifica smiled.

“Oh really?” Mabel contested, wiggling her brows. She picked up a box from the pile and handed it to the blonde. “Maybe this could get you to change your mind?”

Pacifica held the confetti and sprinkle paper patterned, arm’s length cube in her hands and politely undid the wrapping. The small assortment of presents in front of her was at least ten times smaller than the bounty she had received from just this year’s birthday at the mansion alone, but it felt one hundred times as precious. Because as she lifted the flaps of the old delivery box to reveal a lovely hot pink and silver, hand knitted sweater inside, she knew it was because these offerings were selected out of love and care. The young woman recognized the garment instantly, it had been one of her more beloved articles of clothing that had unfortunately been ruined by the Eye Stealer, perfectly replicated down to the stitch.

“Oh Mabel, it’s beautiful.” She gasped. “Thank you so much.”

“But of course, madam. You’re welcome.” Mabel responded with a little bow. Then she gripped a smaller box, still with the same wrapping paper pattern, and gave it to Dipper. “Your turn bro."

“Thanks, Mabel.” He said and tore at the parchment much less gracefully than his girlfriend had. Dipper gingerly took the item out of the box and saw it was a hand crafted leather belt with loops attached, perfect for holding potions in. Right then there was only one potion in the belt, a blue Misty Potion which was provided with the water residue Atl had left behind in the cooler. Seeing his own elixir on the garment surprised him since he had been keeping a close eye on it ever since he had brewed it yesterday. He put on the belt with a beaming smile and said, “This is really nice, Mabel. When did you manage to sneak that potion off of my desk though?”

“Hah, I’ll never tell.” She giggled. Turning her attention to Soos now, she said into her imaginary microphone, “Soos, are you ready for your present now? It’s from all of us.”

“Oh boy, am I.” He responded cheerfully and held out his hands and closed his eyes.

As Pacifica reached for her phone and started recording Soos, Mabel plucked the smallest present of them all, tied up in a gigantic bow that was nearly the size of the gift itself, and it fit neatly in his hands. He opened his eyes slowly and gave a little tug on the ribbon, loosening it up so he could open the miniature box. Eyes sparkling with wonder, he gently picked up a folded piece of paper inside and flattened it out on the ground. “It’s a printout of a plane ticket to Roadkill County. I will treasure it forever.” He said, hugging it to his chest.

The sweater wearing girl laughed and sheathed her knife. “Yeah, but who’s it for?” She questioned, coaxing him along.

He drew his brows together as he gave the paper another lookover. “It’s- it’s for Melody. On Christmas Eve.” Soos gasped and the parchment fell from his fingers. As tears welled up in his eyes, the man lunged forward and embraced all three teens in a bone crushing hug. He sniffled, “Melody’s coming to Gravity Falls for Christmas? But how?”

“Surprise! Happy Hanukkah, Soos.” Dipper managed to choke out.

Soos set them down so they could finally breathe, which the trio was grateful for. After she caught her breath, Mabel chirped, “I found some old cash and gold coins in a backpack under the floorboards when I accidentally grew a sapling in my bedroom to make this happen! Plus Dipper and Paz pitched in some too.”

Pacifica smoothed down her hair and clarified, “I bet her ten bucks she couldn’t grow the peach she was eating. It grew the pit instead of the fruit.”

Dipper shot the girls a confused look and stated, “But I haven’t seen anything up with the floor.”

Pacifica glared at Mabel. “Duh, that’s because we fixed it and didn’t tell anybody. Until now.”

The brunette giggled and shrugged,  “Well the toothpaste is out of the tube now, can’t put it back.” 

Soos stared down at the page in disbelief while a warm smile graced his lips. “I-I don’t know what to say.” 

Dipper slowly shook his head with a grin, amused at his companions. “You’ve done an amazing job taking care of us, Soos. It’s really the least we could do.”

“Thank you.” He said sincerely as he wiped his eyes.

“You’re welcome.” Pacifica responded with a grin. She turned to Mabel, who was sitting across from her with her back against the foot of the couch now and inquired, “Mabel do you want to open your present now?”

Dipper crawled across the carpet to pick up a modestly sized gift and thrust it into her arms, not even giving her a choice in the matter. “It’s from both Pacifica and I.” 

“Oh, two for one? That’s a great deal.” The young woman laughed as she shredded the green and red paper. 

Within the box was her old scrapbook, along with a selection of photos of the various activities and adventures she had gone on since being home in Gravity Falls. There were several from family meals and movie nights when the Grunkles were together with them, as well as a few from when the trio had gone to the cave and even a picture of her and Dipper opening the doors to the flooded high school. She even recognized some she had taken herself over the last two months or so. It seemed like her companions had been working overtime to sneak some candid photos while she wasn’t looking. Ever since she had come back through the portal, she had been unable to find her polaroid camera that she had taken everywhere with her during her first summer in Gravity Falls. Hence, her scrapbook had mostly been put on pause, until now. Because along with the various photos of her adventures and the scrapbook, there was a brand new polaroid camera ready for use. 

She sifted through the photographs carefully, taking the time to treasure each and every one. But then she bounded off the floor and wrapped her arms around the couple, her heart filled with gratitude. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” She bubbled.

“The pictures were Paz’s idea, I got you the polaroid.” Dipper explained as he returned the hug.

“So I take it, you like it?” Pacifica questioned, also embracing her.

“No way, I love it.” She answered and let them go. “I have so many memories I gotta fit into this bad boy now.” Mabel gushed, patting her scrapbook affectionately.

“That’s so rad.” Soos commented.

Dipper glanced at his watch, hoping his surprise would be on time. “Well, it looks like we’re down to the last two.” 

“That’s right,” Pacifica noted and patted her hefty package. “Here, open mine first babe.”

“Ooh, couples gift exchange. I’ll take a picture.” Mabel said enthusiastically and did just that.

The present was decently sized and not the kind that was light enough for Dipper to hold in his lap either. As he tore through the wrapping he asked, “Geez Paz, what’d you get- oh, woah.” Underneath was a brand new set of chemistry beakers and not cheap ones either. 

“Now you won’t have to use dusty old faded beakers anymore.” Pacifica explained. She wasn’t going to tell him that originally that was to be his Christmas gift and now she was back to the drawing board on a present for that holiday. It was something she could figure out on her own.

Dipper wrapped her in a warm hug and told her, “Thank you, it’s perfect.” 

The blonde’s cheeks pinkened and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with a smile. “I’m glad you think so.”

As he ended his embrace, Pacifica spotted two more rats shooting across the room towards the kitchen and it took all her willpower to ignore them. She was having a good time and they weren’t going to get in the way of that. Then there was a knock at the door, to which Dipper commented, “Oh perfect,” and handed his book sized gift to her.

“I got it.” Soos called and quickly climbed to his feet to get the door.

She shook it gently against her ear and could hear some movement inside. “What’d you get me?”

“Open it and see.” Dipper said over the click and flash of Mabel’s camera.

Carefully undoing the wrapping, Pacifica discovered the gift to be none other than the sequel to her favorite video game, Bloodcraft: Overdeath, aptly named Bloodcraft: Overdeath, The Sequel . A wistful smile came to her lips, the game cover reminding her of all the afternoons she and Dipper spent gaming together. But the sadness came from knowing she wouldn’t be able to actually play the game, as much as she wanted to. Her PC was still back at McGucket’s mansion; she had never had the time to move it.

She kissed him softly on the cheek. “Thank you, Dipper,” the girl hesitated, wondering how she could let him down gently, “I love it, I really do. But I just don’t have my PC with me so I can’t play it.”

Instead of crumpling like she thought he would, Dipper only smirked and nudged her with his elbow. He looked at the front door and said, “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

Pacifica followed his gaze out the wide open front door and in the yard she saw McGucket speaking with Soos. But what really caught her eye was that in the bed of the hillbilly’s new truck, she could just barely make out the top of her gaming desk tied down to the vehicle. She gasped as she covered her mouth with her hands and her wide eyes snapped to his. “You didn’t.”

“But I did.” He chuckled.

The young woman grabbed his hand and rushed them out the door with an ear-to-ear grin on her face as excitement filled her heart. This was what she loved about the Pines, and specifically Dipper, so much. They were just the most genuine people in the whole world and she knew they cared about her deeply. That was obvious tonight.

Mabel briefly glanced at the grunkles’ presents that remained underneath the tree and faintly smiled at them. They would be home someday, hopefully soon, and she would be the first to give them their gifts. Without wasting another second, she fetched a gift from under the tree and limped off after her family into the chilly night air in the front yard. The Eye Stealer had finally been disposed of deeper in the forest, mostly thanks to Soos’s truck bed. Getting several hundred pounds of frozen spider into the back hadn’t been fun, but watching it roll down a hill and hit several trees along the way had been so worth it in the end. She noticed a few small critters, maybe rats or maybe gnomes, she couldn’t tell, hasten across the yard and under the porch but she paid them no mind since Soos and McGucket were working together to carry Pacifica’s gaming desk out of the hillbilly’s truck. Wanting to be helpful, she trotted over while Dipper was handing Pacifica the box containing her computer itself.

“Well what a surprise, Mister McGucket. Happy Hanukkah.” Mabel chirped, feeling the frozen ground beneath her bare feet since she hadn’t actually bothered to put on any shoes.

McGucket got the bubblegum pink desk onto the ground and as Soos picked it up in his big arms and began to carry it away, the old scientist tipped his hat and gladly took the present Mabel handed to him. “Why thank ya, little lady. I wish ya a happy Hana’kah too.” He took the soft blue sweater with a dancing robot on the front out of the container and whistled, “Well I’hll say, this is jus’ dandy.”

Mabel took another box from the bed of the truck and beamed, “It’s good you like it because there’s no refunds. Unless it’s too big, then I can slim it down.”

The old man grabbed the last container from the vehicle and grinned, “Well I’ve got a Mabel made sweater already an’ I can confidently say it fit me perfectly,” and followed Mabel into the house and up the stairs to the attic storage room, where the commotion from the others had led her. Nestled cozily against the left wall, near the bathroom, was Pacifica’s desk. Her and Dipper had already managed to get the PC itself plugged in and set up.

“I think you got my monitors, Mabel.” Pacifica stated, taking the box from her hands. She grinned at McGucket and stated sincerely, “Thank you again for your kindness.” It seemed like it wasn’t too long ago she was tearfully asking for his forgiveness after Bill had led her astray. Now she was being served by the same man she had used to detest and it touched her heart. What a beautiful thing it was to be given a second chance and be allowed to grow as a person, to be offered forgiveness in order to move forward.

McGucket shrugged, “Yeppers, good deeds is what makes tha’ world go round. Especially at this time o’ year.”

“Those are some wise words.” Soos nodded sagely as he untangled a length of cord.

With the five of them working together, Pacifica’s gaming setup was ready to go in no time. Her triple monitor setup looked beautiful the way it glowed in the room, adding a much needed splash of color to the space. The blonde girl thought it looked great sitting straight across from the stained glass window that looked like Bill, it was like she would be giving him the middle finger every time she went to play since she was right there in his sightline but he couldn’t do a thing about it. It felt nice to be defiant in the face of evil; she couldn’t wait to play her new game. The game that her family, her real one, had gifted her. Not Bill, not her father, but Dipper.

Once they all headed back down to the foyer, McGucket turned to leave. 

“Wait McGucket, don’t you want to join us for Latkes?” Dipper probed.

The hillbilly sighed. “Oh believe me, I’hd love ‘ta, but I’ve got ma own work ‘ta do right now. Y’all have a good night now, an’ call me if ya ever need anythin’.”

A chorus of goodbyes erupted as they watched the man waltz out the door in his sandals despite the chilly temperature. Once he had left, the four of them headed to the kitchen to prepare a traditional meal. Mabel trotted up to the Menorah in the window and blew out the candles since an adequate enough time had passed. 

“So what are Latkes, exactly?” Pacifica inquired as she leaned against the table, unsure of what to do now. 

“Do you like pancakes? And potatoes?” Mabel asked, holding out her hands as if each was the separate food item. “If the answer is yes then you mix them together and boom, you got Latkes.” She clapped her hands together to emphasize her point. “Then you smother them with apple sauce to make them all sweet.”

Dipper fetched a large frying pan from one of the lower cupboards and paused when he thought he heard a scratching noise come from deeper within. But when straining his ears got him nowhere, he simply shrugged and placed the pan on the stovetop next to the cauldron. “Latkes are a traditional Hanukkah food, kind of like a potato fritter. You can eat them with applesauce if you’re crazy like Mabel but personally I like them with sour cream.”

“I’ll guess I’ll have to try both.” Pacifica said sweetly, looking at the Menorah that now had a few spots of wax drippings on it as two trails of smoke gently wafted from the wicks. 

“Is there anything we can do to help, doods?” Soos questioned from where he was sitting at the kitchen table.

Mabel dusted off the cheese grater she found in the back of the cupboard and a sparkle came to her eyes. “Of course! Paz, grab the eggs from the fridge and Soos can get the potatoes.”

“On it.” Pacifica said and pushed herself away from the table.

From behind her as she walked across the small kitchen, she could hear Mabel asking, “Dipper, is that salt kosher?”

Dipper laughed, “Mabel, you never care about-”

“Well for the next eight days I do.” She declared with a giggle.

With her hand going for the handle of the refrigerator, she noticed Dipper’s pause to look at the container. He said with holiday cheer in his voice, “Yup, it’s good.”

Pacifica was at peace. The terrible day of school she had endured felt like the far distant past now because her family was having fun all around her while she got to learn about and participate in something festive. This would have never happened if she still lived with her father, not by a long shot. But that was why this was her home, never again her father’s place. She got to be truly happy here and make memories to last a lifetime, she thought relaxedly as she opened the door. But rapidly, she backed away until she hit the table again, rattling the chairs. Because the scene that was beheld inside the refrigerator was not a pretty sight. A dozen rats at least had made themselves at home in the cooled space and were currently gorging themselves on anything they could get their jaws on, which unfortunately included the eggs. Milk and orange juice spilled out the door from holes chewed in their containers and mixed with the animals’ feces, creating a horrid smell.

“They’re in the fridge.” Pacifica yelled with her face twisted in disgust.

“Huh?” Dipper dictated, side stepping away from the stove to peer into the fridge. He yelped when the creatures snarled at him and backed away deeper into the food preserver.

“Oh yikes!” Soos exclaimed, quickly withdrawing his hand from the cupboard. Dozens of tiny red eyes filled with hate stared back at him, their mouths caked with starchy potato and bellies extended. “I got some bad news doods, they got to the potatoes too.”

Mabel went around opening all the cupboards where the food was kept and each time she was met with glowing rodent eyes and sparking electricity among a mess of soiled food. An immense frustration rose up from deep within her because not only had their plans of preparing a delicious meal together been thwarted, but it seemed like the rest of the food in the house hadn’t been spared either. She groaned, “This is worse than the time those two gnomes got stuck in here.”

“Where are they all even coming from?” Pacifica asked incredulously, throwing out her arms.

Dipper stomped over to the corner of the room and yanked a broom into his hands. He jammed the bristled end of the thing into the cupboard storing breakfast foods and grumbled, “I don’t care but they’re leaving right now.” 

Mabel unclasped her unicorn hair cloak and spread it out in front of her to help her twin shepherd the vermin out of the kitchen as he thrust the broom into dark corners and forced the rodents from the dark and into the light. Eager to help, Soos rushed for the front door and opened it wide to give the animals a path to run to. As for Pacifica, she screamed the second the first of the rats hit the tile and jumped on top of the table faster than a kangaroo competing in a hundred meter dash. 

“Oh please be careful!” She cried, watching Dipper sweep two hissing animals from the fridge. He took a half eaten package of hotdogs along with them to the floor but at that point, nothing in there was worth saving anymore. 

“Olé.” Mabel cheered, waving her magical cloak at the small clumping of vermin that had congregated on the floor. When she did so, the rats screeched and charged her back, biting down on mouthfuls of the fabric and shaking it like feral dogs and ripping stitches. “Hey quit that, this is vintage unicorn hair, let go or you’ll be sorry.” She cried, tugging back to get control over her cloak. When the creatures didn’t respond she told them, “Alright you asked for it, I hope you like getting flashbanged.”

The teen girl threw the unicorn hair cloak on top of the rats and readied a Light Spell. The moment they popped their heads out from under the garment, she illuminated her hand with radiant energy and they squealed and scrambled on top of one another to get away, their static fur creating several arcs of fiery electricity when they rubbed against each other to make it towards the door. The sudden burst of traveling electrons made Mabel’s hair stand on end like lightning was about to strike and filled the air with the scent of ozone.

“Hah, I guess they don’t like the sunshine.” She smirked.

Just because these stupid things were insisting upon inviting themselves to their celebration and crashing the party didn’t mean Mabel wasn’t going to try to make the most of it. As Dipper forced another group from the shadows and had to shake a particularly feisty rat off the broom handle to keep it from crawling onto his arm, Mabel used her light and herded them to Soos, where they scampered out the door and into the night.

Mabel laughed, “Haha, take that you hideous beasts.”

“Nobody likes you.” Pacifica hissed at them, staying as far away from the excitement as possible while still keeping an eye on the twins.

“You don’t even have faces a mother could love.” Dipper added while a rat took a lunge at the bristles of his improvised weapon. But Mabel arrived with her glowing fist and scared the critter away.

“Yeah, and they’re ugly.” Soos laughed, pointing at the vermin as Mabel chased it out of the house. But the man’s uplifted demeanor didn’t last because he spotted several more of the very creatures they had been working to dispose of coming from the forest and darting across the yard to scuttle up the wooden posts supporting the overhang of the porch where they could infiltrate the ceiling. He pointed above himself and gasped, “They’re getting in through the roof.” 

“What? Oh no way, you’ve got to be kidding me.” Mabel complained, sticking her head through the doorway to get a better look at what Soos had observed.

“I’ll hafta fix that.” Soos frowned as he watched the fiends dart from the forest towards them.

“I swear if one more supernatural creature trashes my bedroom I’m gonna lose it.” Pacifica huffed from around the corner, her arms folded tightly against her chest. Damn, she hated these rats.

Dipper briefly paused in his quest to kick out the freeloading pests to comfort his girlfriend with a warm smile after registering the unease in her tone. “We can figure it out, we’ve survived everything Gravity Falls has thrown at us so far.”

The blonde girl’s eyes perked up gratefully at his comment and she took solace in his plucky optimism. Because he was correct, in spite of everything, they were still here and still together. “Thanks Dip, you really are- look out!” She called, her facial expression turning to alarm as a rat climbed up the broom handle.

Dipper tried shaking the creature from his tool but it was too late, the anomaly reached his flesh and dug its yellowed teeth right into his forearm with hate filled eyes and an angry squeak. Blood was drawn and it oozed from the fresh wound and started to dot the floor but the vermin didn’t let go; it only bit down harder and made the boy cry out. His face scrunched up in pain, Dipper grabbed the rat by the scruff of its neck and tore it free from his body. The pest tried to reach around and do more damage but he held tight and threw the rat against the ground. Once the wound had been inflicted on the young man, the last remaining rats took that as their cue and fled from the kitchen and deeper into the bowels of the shack where they stayed out of sight.

“Ow, that felt personal.” The young man winced, holding his injured arm.

Pacifica kneeled at the edge of the table and gingerly took Dipper’s arm with worry spelled out on her face clear as day. “Oof that looks like it hurts.” She fretted. As badly as she wanted to rush off the table and grab a first aid kit, she just didn’t know if there were any lingering rats around and was too scared to risk it. 

“What happened? I heard Dipper scream like a girl.” Mabel said easily as she and Soos walked into the room.

“Dipper got bit.” Pacifica said shakily, her voice higher and more fragile than normal.

Soos sucked in air through his teeth and sympathized, “Ooh, that’s a big yikes.”

Mabel’s face fell guiltily and she said quietly, “Oh no I’m sorry, Dipper.” But then she took her handbell from her pocket and gestured to him with it and continued, “Here, go wash that out and I’ll heal you right up.” 

Her brother only nodded and slowly made it to the sink with Pacifica by his side to clean out the bite mark with soap and water. Soos picked up his phone and asked the group, “Do you guys care if I order us a couple of pizzas?”

Mabel prodded the hotdogs on the floor with her foot and lamented, “Sure, why not? All our food is spoiled now anyways. But oh wait, pizza crust is leavened.”

Trying his best to ignore the pain as his injury was run under warm water, Dipper commented, “Mabel you had bacon for breakfast yesterday.”

She clicked her tongue and countered, “That was yesterday, bro-bro. Plus who knows, maybe getting in touch with my spiritual side can help me cast magic better. So maybe you should try it too.” 

Soos nodded slowly in thought and then asked, “Uh, then what about ramen? Is that allowed? Should we be following these rules too?”

She told him with a gentle laugh, “No Soos, I’m just following Kosher during Hanukkah for fun. As long as my ramen is beef flavored I’m good.” 

“I’ll have pork.” Dipper noted.

“I’ll also do pork, please.” Pacifica informed.

Soos typed in their orders on his cell and empathized, “I won’t let you down, Mabel dawg. And uh, sorry your festive parade totally got rained on.” 

“Oh why do these types of things keep happening to us?” Pacifica said curtly, pressing a soap suds concentrated cloth onto her boyfriend’s skin and causing him to hiss with hurt.

Through the pain, Dipper observed, “Ever since Grunkle Stan and Ford left It’s like something new gets in our way every week.”

Satisfied with her friend’s cleaning job, Mabel took over the first-aid duties and cast a Healing Spell, closing up the teeth shaped divisions in her brother’s arm and sealing the skin shut. “I’m starting to think it’s not a coincidence anymore. I wish it would all just go back to normal.” Mabel sighed, tapping her foot against the ground.

Dipper offered his sister a grateful smile and then began to pace back and forth across the floor as his anxious brain got up and running. “Of course it’s not a coincidence, remember what Bill said to Pacifica back in the caves? That he hadn’t forgotten what she cost him? We know Bill is after us.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t put it past him to send a swarm of smelly rats to us.” The blonde grumbled, folding her arms.

Mabel chirped, “Hey, I don’t know about you two but I don’t want to spend all night moping about a stupid triangle. The Latkes have gone out the window, sure, but Soos is ordering ramen and we’ll turn on a movie and make the best of it.” It was true, she really didn’t want anything to take the fun out of Hanukkah. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t worried. She knew evil was afoot and she was working every day to get better and repel it as best as she could but dang it, nothing was going to get in the way of her holiday joy. In the back of her mind, she wondered if that was really true.

“After we surround the vending machine with rat poison, right?” Dipper questioned.

“Oh I got you covered, doods. I’ll even cover the rafters with traps and clean up the kitchen.  Pick out a movie and I’ll catch ya later.” Soos announced.

“Wait, Soos are you sure? We can help.” Dipper offered.

The man offered them a soft smile and said, “It can be my Hanukkah gift to you bros, how’s that sound?” and strode out of the room determinedly.

The trio of teens only shrugged and accepted Soos’s offer since it seemed he had made up his mind so they gladly followed the adult’s instructions and got cozy in the living room after spending twenty minutes deciding on a film to watch. The ramen arrived shortly after and while it was no Latke, it did well enough. Mabel supposed all that really mattered in the end was that they were together. That was until Dipper excused himself to the restroom and promptly lost everything he had just eaten. Feeling under the weather rather suddenly, the boy retired to bed early, prompting the rest of the family to do the same. It just wouldn’t be a Hanukkah celebration without him so the other three also decided to hit the hay and finish the movie with Dipper later. 

As far as the girls could tell, there were miraculously no rats in their bedroom so sleep came easily to them.

Chapter Text

It was just her alone in the control room of the poorly lit basement, her hand hovering only inches from the button to turn on the portal. But Mabel wasn’t the one doing the action, at least it wasn’t the real her. Because she observed this duplicate of herself like a spirit removed from the scene, the edges of her vision rippling with black. The other Mabel’s face was sorrowful as it slowly looked from the still standing portal frame to the shiny button and she began to lower her hand to bring the machine to life…

The brunette blinked the sleep from her eyes and internally groaned. Well, she had been wondering when another vision would come around and had supposed she was due for another anyways. Just like always, she wrote down all that had happened in her notebook as quietly as she could by lamp light since it was still dark out and Pacifica was snoring softly. For what seemed like the thousandth time, she asked herself what it all meant. At least now she knew she wasn’t alone with her dreams, Modoc had endured them too. But they had been a warning to him, a warning of something terrible that was to come. So what was going to happen to her then? Were they metaphorical foretellings of the future or literal snippets of what was to come? Or maybe some even worse third option she couldn’t think of? The questions filled her belly with thick dread, the kind she knew no teenager should have to deal with. All she knew was danger was lurking and it could strike at any moment. But how she was to defend herself and her family against it, she didn’t specifically know. If only she could get the answers she needed. 

Mabel gently tried to shake the thoughts from her head by turning her attention to the presents she had received the day prior. Flipping her scrapbook open to the next empty page, she got straight to work sorting through the photos, looking for the ones that had been captured first. ‘ Back Home in Gravity Falls ’ she wrote in a pink gel pen at the top of the page and decorated the title with a few stickers. As the sun began to sleepily peek out over the horizon, she expertly selected the appropriate photographs and positioned them in a homemade looking yet aesthetically pleasing manner. But no matter how much of herself she poured into her craft, she couldn’t shake the building pressure within herself. There was just a lot on her plate between Bill, Mr. Northwest, and the monster of the week that were unfortunately doing a spectacular job at stressing her out.

That dream had gotten her up on the wrong side of the bed and was making her all moody, she realized as she now found herself staring blankly up at the ceiling. Last night had been so happy, so what was different? Maybe this was too much for one person to handle, she mused as a few rats scurried by from the rafters, telling her that Soos’s traps hadn’t turned out to have been all that effective. She took her handbell from her pocket and held it close to her face, studying her stretched reflection in the silver as if it held a clue within. That final spell was still out of reach, but Dipper was trying to learn magic now and perchance he could possibly help? It would certainly feel nice to at the very least talk to somebody about how she’d been feeling and perhaps Dipper was the perfect pick. He was reliable, he always knew what to say, he could help her. But yet, a small part of her hissed that it was wrong to worry him, that she should tough it out and keep it to herself. Mabel brushed it to the wayside, since if she was really being honest with herself, she knew she was struggling and needed some emotional assistance. These last few weeks had been hard and had only been getting more difficult; keeping everybody safe and happy was starting to feel like a monumental task.

Wait- Dipper. Was he okay? He had gone to bed early last night after getting sick and since no one else had, that probably ruled out the possibility of ramen food poisoning. Mabel tiptoed out of her bedroom and down the stairs, her heart anxiously fluttering in her chest. She hadn’t told anyone she was receiving visions, or that she was losing sleep worrying over him, Pacifica, and Soos, or even that this all stemmed from a prophecy the Oracle had given her. How would Dipper react to all this? Would he be angry? Understanding? Confused? Or perhaps some combination of all three was to come.

These thoughts carried her all the way down to the kitchen, where what she beheld made her heart sink into her feet. The kitchen window had been squeezed open just enough for a small animal to squeeze through and the blue and white table runner she had knitted had been gnawed at and unraveled on one end. But worst of all, the Menorah had been knocked from the window sill at one point during the night and was now on the floor, bent out of shape. What remained of the candles were merely the wicks and a few uneaten scraps of wax spread about the Menorah like the spilled guts to an animal slaughtered by a pack of dogs. To rub salt into the wound, she could see fresh rat droppings dotted around on the floor, table, and even the counter tops.

Ugh, those blasted rats. She thought with a mixture of devastation and anger while she carefully picked the Menorah up off the ground. It didn’t seem too far gone to be fixed, all it needed was a little straightening and it would be good as new. 

The journey through the rest of the house to the parlor where Dipper slept was mostly a quiet one, with only the sounds of Soos welcoming the first batch of tourists for the day and the occasional rat she stopped to glare at to break the silence. The vermin seemed to scowl back at her just as intensely, licking their chops and showing off their terrible teeth. While she stared one down in the hall just outside her twin’s room, another nipped at her bare ankle. Luckily the girl saw it coming out of the corner of her eye and kicked the vermin away just in time. The rat caught a few seconds of air, yelped upon landing, and darted away. When she turned back, the creature she had been staring daggers at had also vanished.

Dipper’s door was ajar so there was no need to knock since she could see he was still in bed. The door opened a crack more as she snuck inside past a dirty pile of laundry on the floor and quietly approached him with a nervousness so intense that was accompanied by nausea. She reasoned since the door was open that there was a good chance that he had gotten out of bed already that morning and was now either on his phone or reading. But when she got closer she saw that his back was to her and his eyes were still shut. Well maybe he was resting his eyes, she thought as she came to his bedside and leaned against the back wall, her eyes to the floor as the storm of anxiety overcame her.

She whispered nervously to the floorboards, not even daring to look at him, “Hey Dipper? I need to talk to you, it’s important.”

Her brother didn’t even stir, only curled in on himself tighter than he was before.

Mabel sucked in a shaky breath and went on, not sure if she was more talking to him or herself, “Because I’m kind of freaking out here and I don’t know what to do.” A warm wave of water crashed behind her eyes and she stared unblinkingly at the ground, letting the liquid fill her vision and turn it blurry. “I-I want to keep everybody safe but I’m starting to th-think it’s too much. For me.”

A drop of salty water hit the wood grain as another trailed down her nose and shortly after joined its companion. Dipper moaned in an agitated manner and rolled over in his sleep, finally snapping Mabel’s vision to him properly. She blinked away her tears and a slight gasp left her lips when she saw his arm, the one that had been bitten, poking out of the covers. It had turned a sickly shade of green radiating from the bite mark she had healed last night. But it wasn’t healed any longer, it was open and weeping with the flesh within such a deep shade of crimson it was nearly a necrosed black color. But that wasn’t all, the rest of him had gone ghostly pale as painfully irritated, yellowed pustules had popped up all over his skin. 

“Dipper!” Mabel cried worriedly, shaking him awake.

Blearily the boy opened his eyes, “Hm? Wha-?” He mumbled, feeling like his brain had to trudge through wet cement to make any sort of thought.

“You don’t look so good. How do you feel?” She explained to him with a nervous smile.

He stared at her, or more accurately, stared through her. His mind had registered that she had said something but his head was like a computer with far too little RAM and he could vaguely sense that he was lagging hard. “...Wha?” He managed to slur out.

Mabel repeated whatever she had said before but he didn’t understand because ouch, his arm felt like it was on fire. Sluggishly, he peered down at it and blinked dumbly when he saw the open, rat jaw shaped sore on his wrist. Well, that wasn’t good he supposed. He thought that maybe going back to sleep would fix it as he closed his eyes again. 

Oh. Wait. Mabel was holding his eyes open now. Why was she doing that, exactly? Who knew. His brain was all gummed up and his wrist hurt. The world felt like it was underwater and all he wanted to do was go back to the blissful embrace of sleep. Eventually, Mabel shut his eyes again and he got what he wanted.

Taking in a deep, calming breath was necessary for Mabel before she took her next step. Okay, so Dipper was like really sick because apparently that was what happened when you got bit by cursed rats. It appeared as though he hadn’t been bitten anywhere else while he slept so that was one positive thing about all this. So now what did she do, tell Pacifica? That seemed like a good start.

Softly closing the door behind her, Mabel mentally kicked herself. What had she been thinking trying to tell Dipper about what had been worrying her? As much as her heart throbbed to tell someone, anyone, about her anxieties, she just couldn’t. Her job was to protect her family and keep them together because Dipper needed her now probably more than ever and here she was whining about her stress. How could she have been so weak? There was no room for weakness anymore, if there was one thing she had learned in the Multiverse it was that weak things died. She was a good girl who helped others, not someone who complained when the going got rough. So there would be no complaining from her, no siree. 

Pacifica rolled over in bed and saw the clock read 9:27 . So she slept in today. Whatever, that was what Saturdays were for. Her choice of outfit made her smile since her skinny jeans went well with Mabel’s gifted sweater, as did her perfect eyeliner. She winked at herself in the bathroom mirror, feeling good about what the day would bring because she knew she looked fabulous. And she intended to fabulously crush everybody in Bloodcraft: Overdeath, The Sequel while she got to turn her back to Bill in the window all day. Or at least until Mabel or Dipper bothered her enough to get her away from the PC.

As she put on her pink sequined headset, she wondered if Dipper was alright. Maybe she should go check on him? Well no, it was still reasonable that he was sleeping late. If the time rolled around to say, eleven, and he still hadn’t come upstairs, then she would really be worried. Her brows came ever so slightly together when she pressed the power button to her computer and nothing happened. Hoping it would work the second time, she did the same thing but still, the machine was silent. Okay, that was a little odd. The blonde hopped out of her multi-thousand dollar reclining gaming chair and stepped around the side of her desk to take a look at the power cord situation. Everything had been running smoothly last night so if she had to guess, a cable must have simply popped out. That wasn’t the case.

Every single last cord had been cut, or perhaps more accurately, chewed through by hundreds of tiny teeth. Pacifica stood there slack jawed for several seconds as the anger inside of her boiled over into a rage. She ripped the headset off of herself, yanked the head pillow from her chair, and screamed into it. Damn those rats! They had taken the kind gesture of the people she cared much for and completely spoiled it. 

“...What’s wrong?” Mabel prodded, startling her from the time she was spending with her face in a pillow.

Wordlessly, she lowered the cushion and very pointedly jabbed a finger at the chewed cords, her face red with fury. The cloaked girl followed her arm to the cables and took a couple of seconds studying them before dispirited recognition dawned on her face. “Oh, that’s what’s wrong.” She folded her arms and shook her head, appearing rather vexed herself, which was surprising because anger was an emotion Pacifica didn’t see on the girl often. “They broke the Menorah too. And Dipper’s still sick, like super sick. Like gross to look at sick.”

“What?!” Pacifica shrieked. “I need to see him right now.” She announced, grabbing Mabel’s hand and flying down the stairs.

They nearly tripped over one of the vermin as it ran by near the bottom and it made Pacifica gain second thoughts about crossing the house to get to Dipper but she steeled herself and continued into the living room. If he had fought off dozens of the tiny beasts for her last night and earned an injury because of it, then she could dare to trip over a few more for his sake, even if she hated it. But when the girls heard screaming coming from unfamiliar voices through the walls, they shared a quick glance and changed directions for the gift shop instead. 

Stepping through the doors to the gift shop proved to be a mistake since the place was practically overrun with rats, their fur sending large arcs of rosy electricity into the air as they moved by each other and put the girls’ hair on end as the smell of electrons and wet animal filled the room. Their cacophony of squeaking noisily hit their ears as they took in the space that had been turned upside down. Merchandise displays were knocked over and swarming with the vermin, items had been knocked from shelves and shattered, and Wendy was atop the checkout counter with her axe out and kicking away the beasts that came for her. Multiple families of tourists were running for the exit with great haste, screaming in terror all the way. 

“We’re never ever coming back.” One father stormed.

“I’m going to leave a bad review.” Another spat.

“And I’m making a formal complaint.” A third tourist fumed as she headed out the door.

Soos ran into the gift shop after them, his expression desperate. “Oh please don’t go! I’ll make it up to you, how about half off any item? Or-or free tickets next time?”

The disgruntled people didn’t respond as they left, but from atop the checkout counter, Wendy did. “Soos, there won’t be a next time if we don’t take care of these pests,” she told him seriously as she swung her ax down straight on top of one of the beasts. But instead of chopping the creature in half like she had hoped, her ax only bounced straight off the back of the rat and it hissed at her like a rabid raccoon. So she introduced it to her boot instead and that did just the trick as it went sprawling into the air.

“I know girl-dood, it’s just- ow, OW!” He yelped, jumping from one foot to the other and then falling over as multiple rats clenched their jaws around his ankles. The second his back hit the floor, the vermin saw an opportunity and licked their lips, pouncing on him. He was quickly swarmed until he was completely covered by a furry mass that sparked with power.

“Oh, I can’t watch.” Pacifica fretted as she went pale, covering her eyes and looking away.

“Soos, no!” Wendy yelled and she tried to reach out for him while avoiding the vermin on the floor.

FWOOSH! 

A massive gust of wind burst from Mabel’s fingertips as she slammed her hand to the floorboards and sent the rats flying into the walls and into piles in the corners of the room, uncovering Soos. Apart from some minor electrical burns to his hands and face and the several bite marks around his ankles, he appeared to be more or less okay, if only rattled. He sat up slowly, breathing heavily as he winced at the pain in his ankles. Trying to stand proved to be fruitless for him when he got about half way up and then collapsed onto his hands and knees. Wendy saw an opportunity with the path now temporarily cleared of supernatural creatures and she darted straight for Soos and grabbed him under his armpits and half lifted him to his shaky feet. Then Mabel was there to help, since Wendy had been struggling to get Soos to stand on her own and she wrapped one of his arms around her shoulders and the redhead did the same. 

Pacifica watched them with great horror in her eyes as she saw the rats begin to shake themselves from their dazed states and crawl all over each other once more in an attempt to charge the humans from the corners of the room. More of the vermin were squeezing in from underneath the exit door now, only adding to their companions’ army. As their bodies created friction with one another and their angry screams reached a higher volume, far reaching bows of crimson electricity sizzled in the air, making contact with the lights and loudly popping the bulbs and showering Mabel, Wendy, and Soos with broken glass as the lighting changed to a dark, glowing red. Together the trio managed to work together to get Soos towards the door and into the mostly rat devoid living room, where he was plopped down heavily onto the couch.

The brunette gave herself no time to catch her breath once Soos was rescued because she immediately instructed the other girls, “I need you guys to stay here and take care of Soos while I deal with these rats.”

“No, I’m fine, hambone.” Soos said, attempting to stand. “I’m totally-” he grimaced and sat back down as blood leaked into his socks, “not fine. Not fine at all.”

“I’ll go get some bandages.” Pacifica relayed with anxiety in her tone, rushing off to the kitchen to grab the first-aid kit while trying her hardest to be brave. 

Wendy squared her jaw and looked the Pines girl straight in the eye, “If you think you’re going back there on your own then you’re nuts. You’ll need me.”

A small jolt of unease shot up Mabel’s spine and she held up her hands and explained, “No Wendy, you don’t understand. Dipper got really sick from one of these bites and Soos has probably like ten. He needs you and Pacifica to stay with him.”

“Yeah I don’t- feel so… great.” Soos breathed out, bent over cradling his stomach. 

With worry, Mabel came over to him and gingerly lowered his socks, revealing several bite marks that were already starting to turn the surrounding skin an unpretty shade of green. 

“Oh this isn’t good.” Mabel admitted.

Pacifica’s shriek followed her into the room and she ran up to Wendy clutching the first-aid kit in her arms like she was carrying a baby out of a burning building. With her voice pinched with fright, she communicated, “They’re spilling in from the kitchen window and under the front door. The porch is completely swarmed.”

“Well there goes our escape route.” The red head growled as the first of the pests began to make their way into the living room, hissing and spitting as they approached. 

A great muffled squealing came from the gift shop and the kitchen, steadily increasing in volume. The air filled with a buzzing energy and the hairs on their arms and neck stood on end while the lights overhead and the Christmas tree vibrated with electricity as they glowed brighter from the mass of the energized creatures entering the building. Then suddenly every light in the room popped and went dead, plunging them into near darkness. Mabel tried telling herself that this was fine, she had been through worse. This wasn’t the first time someone had been relying on her to save the day and improvise medical treatment. The only difference now was that it was four people that she needed to take care of instead of just one. But this time, her healing spell hadn’t worked and it seemed like they were being surrounded by their enemies. 

This was only adding to the stress Mabel was already dealing with today and in that moment, it threatened to pop her like a cactus to a balloon. She sharply breathed out, scrunching her eyes shut as she forced her anxiety down, and tried to smile in spite of her situation. 

Then there was a soft, perfectly manicured hand on her shoulder and its owner cooed, “Mabel, are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. We need to get to Dipper’s room so you guys can hole up in there, it’s not safe here anymore.” Was her knee-jerk reaction, along with what she thought was a rather convincing smile.

“Well ok, if you say so.” Pacifica responded, sounding entirely unconvinced by her friend’s reassurance that she was mentally well.

“No, we need to get out of here. Somehow.” Wendy said as she kicked a few more rats away and they landed in the Christmas tree and knocked several ornaments to the ground, shattering them while they untangled themselves from the pine branches. She wrapped Soos’s arm around one of her shoulders and inquired of the man, “Soos, can you walk at all?”

With great effort, the two stood and he gritted out, “A little.”

Mabel came to Soos’s other side and told the redhead, “I think the rats are coming for us specifically. Do we really want to risk being out in the open like that if we leave?”

Wendy frowned at this information and stated, “No I don’t. Okay Mabel, I’m with you then.”

“What if Dipper’s room is already infested?” Pacifica fretted, feeling awfully nauseous at the thought. Of all the weird Gravity Falls things to be happening to them right now, why did it have to be rats?

“Then, then we’ll go from there.” Mabel said, fighting to keep her voice stable. She cast a light spell, partially so they could see better and partially because she remembered that the rats didn’t seem to like it. As she, Soos, and Wendy took their first step towards the parlor, she instructed, “Alright, stay as close to me as you can and hopefully we’ll make it.”

“G-got it.” Pacifica gulped, her heart beating a mile a minute. 

As they stumbled along down the darkened hall, they were met with dozens upon dozens of the pests taking up the majority of the floor and even clinging to the walls. An angry red glow emitted from the creatures as they backed away from Mabel’s light and their red, beady eyes scowled at the group and it looked more like they were traversing the tunnels of some gigantic nest rather than their own home. Hatefully, they nipped at Wendy’s feet since she was the furthest from the light but her thick boots kept her safe from the opportunistic attackers. Pacifica made sure to keep herself glued to Mabel’s backside for protection since she was scared out of her wits and shaking like a leaf. Their situation was bad, she could tell that because Mabel, even as tough as she was, was visibly stressed by all this. She wanted to comfort her in some way, help her out or provide some useful advice, but nothing came to mind.

A particularly vengeful critter jumped from the peeling wallpaper towards Wendy’s face and the woman jumped into Soos to get away as she hit it with her ax. Unfortunately for the four of them, Soos was barely able to hold himself upright and Wendy’s movement was all it took for him to fall into Mabel, who was unable to support all his weight and fell to the ground with him. Pacifica was forced to take a leap backwards if she was to avoid getting crushed under the two of them and she stumbled onto her behind and right into the heart of the rats.

Pacifica screamed as she fell and curled into a tight ball the moment her body hit the floorboards, expecting to be immediately swarmed. But instead of being bit to death, nothing seemed to happen at all, and as Mabel and Wendy distractedly hoisted Soos back onto his two legs, she slowly pried her eyes open to see that there wasn’t a single beast on her at all. In fact, when she sat upright, they appeared to be pointedly avoiding her, giving her a berth of half a foot at least and staring at her uneasily.

“Oh no, Paz!” Mabel exclaimed, finally noticing the girl from over her shoulder, looking like she desperately wanted to leave Soos’s side so she could come to her aid.

As quickly as she was physically able, Pacifica leapt back up to Mabel’s side and after blinking confusedly a few times, she bewilderedly responded, “I’m perfectly fine, I think.” 

The sweater wearing girl wiped the perspiration from her brow and adjusted Soos’s weight around her shoulders. “Well that’s great. C’mon, we’re practically there.”

The blonde knocked on Dipper’s door and when there was no answer, she opened it up and allowed the other three inside. Pacifica pulled up one of many folding chairs from the corner of the room, since this space used to be the parlor after all, and allowed Soos to sit down in it. Now free from supporting the man, Mabel rushed around the area to dispel the few lingering rats while Wendy got to work bandaging her boss’s wounds. Scratching noises were coming from inside the walls, not a good sign at all, but at least for now the vermin seemed to be absent from their sights.

Pacifica came to Dipper’s bedside and grimaced when she saw just how sick he actually looked because Mabel wasn’t lying, his appearance was setting off all the primal alarm bells in her head telling her to get as far away from him as possible. His skin had turned a shade greener than when Mabel had visited him last and the sores all over his arms and head made her want to gag. But what really broke her heart was how fatigued he seemed laying there limply in his bed with his eyes shut, as if lifting a finger would be a monumental task.

How are we supposed to heal this? She thought agitatedly. Reasonably, they could try to get to a hospital but if Mabel’s magic hadn’t had the ability to heal Dipper then what were some non-magical doctors supposed to even do?

“Oh, he doesn’t look good.” Mabel squeaked beside her, her lips a thin line.

Pulling her friend into a side hug, she comforted, “No, but he’ll pull through, he has to,” not sure if she even believed the words herself as she said them. All she could do was hope.

Mabel quickly returned the hug and sighed deeply, thinking of what she was capable of controlling in this moment and wishing it would calm her elevated heart rate. Directly helping Dipper and Soos was out of the question for now but at least she could shield herself from the rats, so that was a plus. Perhaps she could work with that and go back to the gift shop to figure out what it was that the beasts were here for, look for clues, and figure out a way to kick them out. Man she really wished Grunkle Ford was here, he’d know what to do in this situation. 

The fifteen year old turned for the door and paused, mentally steeling herself as she sharply exhaled and shakily pinched her nose. So her hands were trembling now, that was great. Looking back from over her shoulder she informed the group, “Okay, I’m going out there now. Stay here.”

“By yourself?” Pacifica asked incredulously. 

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” Wendy inquired, briefly pausing in her task of bandaging Soos’s ankles to look at the young woman with concern.

“Yeah, barricade yourselves inside if you can.” She answered, cast another light spell, and swiftly opened and closed the door behind her.

Pacifica got right to work, stuffing spare blankets in the crack underneath the door and locking and covering the window. But as soon as she had finished with Mabel’s directions, she couldn’t help but feel rather off, holed up in here knowing her friend was out there facing off against the hoard on her own. She thought back to the way she had seen the bright eyed, sweater wearing girl push down her fear and march out into danger to keep them safe, to keep her safe. Sitting down at the edge of Dipper’s bed, she bit the inside of her lip agitatedly, as if at war with herself. 

She looked so scared, but so am I. She thought because she really hated those rats. But maybe, maybe they hated her too? So much so that they didn’t even touch her? Ugh, she didn’t know, all she knew was that thinking about leaving this room, and Dipper’s side, made her anxious enough to make her head swim.

As soon as she had shut the door behind her, hundreds of furry rodents turned to face Mabel in the red lit hall with bared teeth and furious squeaking. It was jarring hearing so many tiny voices overlapping over one another and they filled her ears with terrible noise. Mabel tensely swallowed and held her light out in front of her bravely, taking her first steps towards the gift shop where the most rats had seemed to congregate. The vermin backed away from the radiance shining out of her hand but glared at her from a safe distance. 

Upon entering the gift shop, she was met with the terrible smell of far too many animals all confined to the same space and the reek of their bodily waste hit her nostrils. The heat from the thousands of electrified vermin crawling around mixed nauseously with the humid climate and made the stink even worse. There were so many of them now that the floor appeared as though it was made from some sort of living, writhing carpet. All lights in the room had surged into nonexistence and their jobs were replaced with the eerie red glow of the rats as they crackled with electricity. Immediately she regretted walking in there barefooted as the bottom of her feet came in contact with something wet and squishy and she prayed she would come out of this experience alive and without any new diseases. The closest of the rats to her screeched in fright and tried to back away from her but they were packed in with so many of their brethren that it was difficult for them to move and the fur on their backs began to singe from the magic.

So that was one good thing, she noticed as she apprehensively made it closer to the center of the room. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about being bit while she battled with her nausea. Searching for clues, Mabel scanned the area. Why were they congregating so much in the gift shop? She got her answer when her eyes landed on the vending machine and she nearly smacked her forehead at not seeing it sooner. Hundreds of rodents had completely covered it and were chewing away at the line between it and the wall so they could squeeze past.

“Hey! Oh no you don’t, leave the snacks alone. If you think you’re getting into the basement that easily then you’re all sorely mistaken.” Mabel barked, putting more focus into her spell as she stomped up to the vending machine, causing the illuminance on her hand to grow brighter and the rats closest to her to begin burning up as if they were made of tissue paper. Well that confirmed one thing to her at least, this infestation was definitely Bill’s doing if they were this focused on the secret door to the portal room since she doubted they were simply that interested in the snacks. 

But as Mabel increased her firepower against the pests, it seemed to her like they were retaliating when she heard a torrent of even louder squeaking heading her way. She turned briefly to the source of the noise and discovered entire waves of rodents flooding in from the hall and the kitchen. They squeezed through cracks in the ceiling and in the walls like the shack had sprung several rat leaks and they all began to conglomerate together into one extensive mass covering the vending machine. It was all simply too much for Mabel and she was forced to take several self-preserving steps backwards if she was to avoid being crushed by the mountain of wiggling vermin. They spread across the walls, ceiling, and the floor and blotted out the sun from the windows as a form took shape among them, snapping gigantic arcs of rosy electrical current into the air. A stray one hit Mabel in the chest but it was blocked by a red energy of her own and her only bell rang. The formless mass of pests that scraped the ceiling came to life and stared back at her with a lopsided, gaping maw of its own and scowled at her with the negative space that made up its two eyes. Countless rat tails squirmed in its mouth, making it appear as though it was full of maggots as energy sparked immensely in its fiery eyes.

“Oh man, now that’s what I call a Rat King.” Was all Mabel said as she raised her polaroid camera and snapped a picture of the monster. There was no time to shake out the photo and see if she got a good one or notice that the flash hadn’t affected the swarm at all since a vaguely arm shaped congregation of rodents swung at her and she rolled across the floor to avoid it. Her shoulder became soaked in something putrid as it made contact with the floorboards and she didn’t want to think about what it was.

The limb hit the ground and exploded into a hundred different rats, who hurriedly rushed back to the center of the monster and a new arm was formed that came right for Mabel. She had only just barely gotten to her feet when she was attacked next and had no time to avoid the gigantic mitt but only to hold out her illuminated hand in front of her instead and hope it worked. At first it seemed like it would since the frontmost layer of vermin atomized when it got close but there were simply too many coming too fast and the wall of flesh hit her in the abdomen and knocked her onto her back, all air escaping from her lungs. The force of the hit lost her the concentration she had on her spell and as several of the beasts jumped from the walls and landed in her hair, she cast another as swiftly as she could.

The handful of pests attempting to bite her vaporized when her palm relit and created a ring of charcoal around her three paces wide. Any remaining ones that had been intent on charging her retreated further as the larger monster roared. It swung one arm at her, which she dodged, but then a second came right afterwards from behind and threw her face first onto the wood. Panting for breath, the sweater wearing girl completed another light spell before she could be bit and lifted herself onto her knees. Another onslaught of blows came her way and she wasn’t able to avoid all of them. Mabel was forced to physically kick the never ending wave of rats off of her while she finished yet another spell and burned the attackers in her reach.

But her light was dimmer now than it had been before as she rested one hand on her knee and greedily sucked in as much air as she could get. Her body was bruised and battered and she knew she was tiring fast. If only her dagger wasn’t broken, it would’ve been very useful right about now. 

“This isn’t… pant … fair. You’re so much bigger… pant … than me.” She complained to the monster.

The Rat King growled and entrapped her with two enormous arms on either side of her as it slid forward to overwhelm her with sheer numbers alone. Mabel grimaced as her arms shook and sweat dripped down her face, putting all her effort into one last surge of shining her light as brightly as she was physically capable of. She raised her radiant fist above her as she fell to her knees, knowing her magic was the final line of defense between her and a demon intending to kill. The rats loomed over her like an inescapable wave that was to crash down on her and she shut her eyes, too exhausted to attempt to run. Her ears were overrun with noisy, high-pitched shrieking as she felt the shadow stand over her. So this was it, a final stand off she realized as she trembled from exertion, either she or the Rat King was making it out of this alive.

But the demon never swallowed her up, for just then, another was there clinging to her tightly, almost as if they were trying to shield her with their own body. She heard the Rat King retreat as it roared angrily, not daring to touch the other, and Mabel exhaustedly opened her eyes to find Pacifica embracing her with all her might and she felt the blonde’s heart beating faster than that of a speeding racehorse’s against her own chest. Her face was scrunched up in terror and her eyes were tightly shut but she mumbled something thick with fright that Mabel heard clear as day. 

“I got you, Mabel.”

Her friend’s own bravery and love struck a chord with the young woman and her added support gave her just the strength she needed as a warm feeling bloomed beautifully in her heart. Because Pacifica, despite her own fear of these rats, had darted into the belly of the beast for her to protect her and the realization filled her with comfort. The miniature sun she held in her hand went supernova, blinding the girls even through their eyelids as the Rat King squealed in pain and began to go up in flames. Animals atomized on the walls and ceiling, returning sunlight to the room as the monster began to dissolve and every individual ran for its own life. They spilled out the doors and through the kitchen window, rushing into the forest, never to return. All was now silent.

Mabel collapsed into Pacifica’s arms, shakily regaining her breath. Moving her head felt like pushing a boulder but when she gazed upon the vending machine, she smiled just a little when she saw it was still intact, if not a little dented, and nothing appeared to have gotten inside. “Paz, y-you saved me. I would’ve been a goner if it wasn’t for you.” She mumbled.

“I, yeah I guess so. Are you alright?” The blonde responded shakily.

“I’m okay, how about you?” Mabel quizzed, standing with trembling legs.

As they stood, Pacifica replied, “Terrified. But I’m not dead so all things considered, it’s really not that bad.”

Mabel laughed emptily and glanced at the vending machine. “I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have had to put your life on the line to save me from one of Bill’s stupid demons.”

Pacifica noticed the girl’s gaze and saw the clear rat caused damage to the entrance to the basement and connected the dots in her mind. “So we were right then. Typical.” She huffed and crossed her arms. It infuriated her to no end that Cipher refused to just leave them alone and that hurt. It made her want to bash her head against a wall and rant endlessly to Dipper about how unfair it all was but she couldn’t even do that because the damn vermin had taken him from her too.

“Uh-hu.” She mumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose.

The blonde shelved her inner turmoil for now and took note of Mabel’s stressed body language as she asked, “But they’re all gone now, right? You did it?”

Furrowing her brows, the sweater wearing girl looked tiredly to the gift shop door and concluded, “Well as long as what’s left of them are running off into the forest then yeah, I’d say so.”

The blonde gulped but swallowed her fear while doing so and took Mabel by the elbow and led her towards the door. “Then let’s find out if they’re running like the cowards they are.”

Mabel let her friend take her to the porch, where three last particularly fat rats were struggling to shove themselves through the narrow space under the door. The girls were more than happy to help the beasts out and they opened the door and watched them run off along with the last of the pests racing across the snowy ground and into the tall trees. But then something caught Mabel’s eye as she saw them leave, a shimmering bundle of thread caught in the splintery wood of the porch.

The brunette tilted her head in interest at it and bent down to get a closer look. “Oh what the? …Oh no.” Mabel walked over to the edge and kneeled to run a hand across the lip of the lined up planks and slowly shook her head.

“What? What is it? Is it what I think it is?” Pacifica grilled, briskly walking up to her.

Finally she said in a troubled tone, “They chewed through the unicorn hair barrier.”

“I don’t remember seeing the spell go down, do you?” Pacifica inquired with worry, her hand to her chin in thought. She knew that if there was an interruption in the circling of the house in the magical thread then the spell that protected the shack from Bill would end. But the thought that they hadn’t known exactly how long that had been the case frightened her.

“No, my best guess is they chewed through while we were asleep.” Mabel informed her with a nervous sigh, taking some spare craft glue from her pocket. She grabbed at the corner of her unicorn hair cloak and with the help of her trusty dagger, cut through the knotted end of her garment and unraveled a length of the thread.

“Do you need any help with that?” Pacifica offered. If Mabel was going to ensure that they were protected again then she wanted to be a part of it.

“No, I’m good but thanks.” Mabel replied rather flatly with a frown, gluing the correct length of unicorn hair down to the perimeter of the porch and connecting the two broken ends to one another. When she did so, a sparkling dome of blue and purple energy with various voodoo-like symbols rose around the shack before dissipating and returning everything to normal. 

The girl clapped her sticky hands together and gave a satisfied nod as her troubled thoughts disappeared along with the indication that the spell had worked. “Okay, I think that did the trick, the Bill proof spell is up and running again. Good thing I had this cloak.” Then she added, “It’s strange that it lets him still look inside the shack though,” as she thought back to the time she had felt Cipher watching her when she chased upstairs after the Eye Stealer.

Pacifica shrugged, “Maybe it’s a physical barrier?”

Mabel shivered, “Yikes. Then let’s hope we never have to use it.” She had a little difficulty separating her glue covered hands from each other but when she did, she only frowned down at the bits of unicorn hair that were still stuck to her fingers. Because quite like the enchanted threads that were glued to her skin, she felt like she was stuck with the role of protecting her family by magical means. 

Pacifica’s expression shifted to concern when she saw the way her companion was staring blankly at her hands and she put an arm around Mabel’s shoulder and kindly asked, “Hey Mabel, I want you to be honest with me here, are you doing ok? You’ve seemed kinda stressed lately.”

Pacifica’s eyes were open and welcoming and Mabel so desperately wanted to just spill everything to her. The prophecy, her dreams, the pressure she was under to keep Bill away from them, and her worry for her family. But she couldn’t now, not when Dipper and Soos needed their help and she knew Pacifica was stressed too. Not when they had just defeated another of Bill’s monsters and she knew he surely must be planning something else for them already. Not when there were things to do. Being emotional wouldn’t fix anything here, she had to keep moving. That’s how things had worked on the other side of the portal so why would it be any different here? Besides, it was Hanukkah, a time for celebration and light, not doom and gloom. 

The girl sighed, searching for the right words to say. Eventually, she settled on a half-truth. “I guess I’m just worried about Dipper and Soos. I-I don’t really know how to fix them… But I’m alright.”

Pacifica gave a tiny sad nod, not entirely convinced that she believed Mabel’s response, and thought aloud, “Well, maybe not right now. It seems like your healing spell doesn’t work but is there any other magic we could use? …Wait, what about the potions?”

Mabel’s eyebrows raised at Pacifica’s suggestion as her thoughts drifted back to the time she had used an elixir to heal a curse Grunkle Ford had gotten. Goosebumps raised on her arms at the memory and she shuddered; that hadn’t been a good time in her life. But her companion was correct, there was a good chance the potions could help Dipper and Soos. Well, that was if the potion they needed wasn’t one of the ones that had been washed away and lost to time in the cave.

“Great idea, Paz.” Mabel chirped, grabbing her hand and rushing them both into the filthy kitchen. 

Miraculously it seemed like the rats had left the cauldron alone and after grabbing Dipper’s notebook from atop the fridge, Pacifica rapidly flipped through the pages looking for the translated brewing instructions as she wrinkled her nose at the terrible smell in the air. She tapped her foot anxiously and mumbled, “Okay potions, here we go. Knowledge/Prophecy potions, we don’t need those. Water potions, nope. Light potions, no we- wait,” she paused to reread something and gazed unimpressedly at the page, “Mabel c’mere.”

From over Pacifica’s shoulder, Mabel read aloud, “Fast as Light Potion: Infuses the consumer with radiant energy that makes them ‘fast as light’ for five minutes. Wowie, that’s pretty cool.”

“No, read the other one, Mabel.” She instructed, pointing towards it on the other page.

“Radiant Potion: Become fiery like the surface of the sun, becoming immune to fire. Effective at repelling demons, lasts five minutes.” Mabel snorted, “Well that sure would’ve been useful about ten minutes ago.”

The older girl agreed and sassed, “Uh, yeah. If only Dipper was here, he would’ve made us all one.” Silently, she cursed Cipher in her head for taking her boyfriend out of the fight early on.

Mabel flipped the page as she tapped her foot against the ground and continued reading along, “Air potions: Levitation Potion and Lungfill Potion. Well if we ever want to fly and be able to breathe in space, I’ll keep those in mind…” She turned the page again and furrowed her brows. “Plant potions, oh there’s only one; the Redwood Strength Potion. I sure hope the one we’re looking for is here.” At this point, they had gone through all the brewing categories except for the healing one so Mabel knew one of the two missing recipes must’ve been there. They hadn’t found anything that looked like the elixir that had helped Grunkle Ford yet and she anxiously twisted her lip hoping they had it.

“You’re looking for something specific?” Pacifica inquired.

She turned to the last page and nodded, “Yeah, I used a- oh here! A Restoration Potion, it killed a curse on Grunkle Ford once. This is it!”

“Oh of course the one we need is at the very end.” The blonde said with an eye-roll.  

Mabel sharply nodded, and even though she wasn’t looking forward to the tedious task that lay ahead of her, she knew she needed to do it for Dipper and Soos’s sake. “Okay, let’s get to it then.” 

The base ingredients they were lucky enough to already have on hand thanks to Grunkle Stan and Dipper, gold and height altering crystals. After the two were added and the headache inducing instructions regarding them were followed, the elixir needed to simmer for a little while before it could be continued. So the girls first and foremost checked in on Wendy, Soos, and Dipper. Wendy was thrilled to see them and to learn that the threat was gone, but her enthusiasm was short lived when she showed them Soos laying in a pile of blankets on the floor, his state having quickly deteriorated to Dipper’s. It broke the girls’ hearts to see their loved ones in such a state but with a timer on the Restoration Potion, there was nothing they could do but wait.

“Ugh, I’m going to lose it sitting around here for the next three hours. There’s gotta be something else we can do.” Pacifica grumbled, letting go of the death grip she had on Dipper’s sheets to hop off the foot of his bed. 

Mabel looked up from where she had been feeling the temperature of unconscious Soos’s forehead with the back of her hand with a downcast frown. “I feel the same way and It’s eating me all up inside. They’re getting sicker by the hour.”

The blonde stamped her foot frustratedly and turned to the sleeping Dipper, her voice breaking as she said, “But I can’t leave him either.”

“Geez, this place is a mess.” Wendy called from the hallway, having left the room to get a look at the aftermath of it all for herself.

Sharing a look, the two girls understood exactly what the other was thinking. 

Pacifica tore her eyes away from Dipper and sorrowfully told Mabel, “Well, I guess it might not hurt to do a little cleaning. Do we really want Dipper and Soos to come back to a filthy home?” 

“Way ahead of you, Paz. I’ll grab a broom.” Mabel said with a sad smile daring to appear at the edges of her lips.

“And I’ll get the mop.” 

Spending the afternoon cleaning the Mystery Shack of all evidence of the infestation while occasionally checking back on their ill loved ones made the time go by rather quickly. So when the time came to add the third ingredient, the tooth of an ancient animal, the girls had scrubbed the ground floor and gotten into a sponge water fight so the shack and Mabel were almost squeaky clean once more. Ultimately the girls decided to just pull the biggest teeth from the oldest looking skull in the gift shop and hope it worked. And work it did since the brew turned a bright green color, just as Mabel had seen on the other side of the portal. They made sure they had made enough to have an extra vial ready as a backup just in case something went wrong and with the three glasses still steaming, they raced back into Dipper’s room.

“Alright, who’s first?” Pacifica anxiously asked, taking a vial from Mabel’s hands.

“What’s wrong with both at the same time?” Wendy prodded while she took a second bottle from the brunette.

“Nothing, nothing. Let’s do it then.” Pacifica decided and she gingerly pulled back the bloodied bandaging from Dipper’s forearm. The site of the injury was much more swollen than before and the flesh around the bite mark had become necrosed and blackened itself, making her hold her breath and choke back a gag. His wound was painful to even look at, let alone have and Pacifica’s heart squeezed for him while he laid on his bed, dead to the world.

“Here, I’ll help you out.” Mabel chirped, coming to Wendy’s aid and assisting her with removing the gauze from around Soos’s ankles. They looked much like her brother’s arm had this morning, all green and sickly and it made her grimace.

The redhead pulled the stopper of the vial out with her teeth and softly poured the lime colored liquid out evenly over Soos’s wounds just as Pacifica did the same. Once the potion hit the wounds, they began to hiss angrily as sparks emanated from them, causing Wendy to yelp out a curse and jump back in surprise. But the terrible discoloration in his skin started to shrink back and the pus filled boils receded until they were no more. Feeling as though the sudden lightness in her chest was lifting her to her feet, Mabel rushed over to Dipper’s bedside, where she squealed in delight to see the magic was having the same effect on him as it did Soos.

“Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh!” She bubbled, her infectious grin spreading to the other girls.

“It’s working, it’s really working.” Pacifica breathed out in relief with a hand to her head as Dipper began to stir.

Wendy watched Soos’s eyes flutter open and she laughed towards Mabel and Pacifica, “Wo-ah, you guys rock.”

“Nngh… Mabel? Paz?” Dipper mumbled as he blearily stared up at the two who were taking up most of his vision.

Both of the young women dove to hug him without a moment’s notice and Dipper made a little ‘oomph’ noise when they hit him as a confused smile formed on his face. But then the pain in his arm hit him as he tried to lift them to embrace them back and he winced out, “My arm really hurts.”

“Yeah let me fix that right up for you bro-bro.” Mabel stated and quickly unglued herself from her brother, grabbed her handbell from her pocket, and stepped around Pacifica to get a decent look at Dipper’s arm. Just like she had suspected, the afflicted spot had returned to just a simple flesh wound, one that a quick Healing spell took good care of. 

Dipper flexed his now healed limb so he could finally hug Pacifica back and he said softly, “Thanks, Mabel.” 

From behind them, Soos dazedly sat upright and rubbed his eyes, muttering, “Oh man, who teleported me here?”

“I’m gonna fix you right up too Soos, don’t move just yet.” Mabel declared, trotting up to him.

Pacifica breathed in a big breath of air, relishing in her boyfriend’s scent. “Don’t you ever scare me like that ever again.” She whispered into his ear.

“I’m sorry hun, you know I didn’t do uh, well whatever that was, on purpose right?” Dipper inquired, shifting his weight so he could sit upright in bed.

Still not letting go, she sighed, “Yeah, but still.” After a beat of silence she added, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Like really good actually.” He whispered back to her, rubbing her back.

Then Wendy lightly punched him on the shoulder and said, “Glad you’re okay.”

“Me too. I’m glad I’m okay, also.” Soos added while he wrapped his arms around Mabel to hug her after she embraced him.

“And me three.” Mabel cheered, launching off of Soos to hug her brother once more.

The young man laughed as the girls finally allowed him to stand up and have his own space. He stretched his arms to the ceiling, feeling much better than he had since last night. Nevermind that he was still in his pajamas at who knew what hour it was, he felt healthy again and that was alright with him.

Wendy moved to switch on the lights since it was still dark in the room and frowned when they didn’t come on. After flicking the switch multiple times she scratched her head and announced, “Well I definitely don’t think that’s supposed to be happening.”

The sweater wearing girl waved her hands and exclaimed, “It was the rats, Wendy. They turned into a super Rat King and fried the wiring in like half the house. But I took care of it.”

This revelation got Soos’s full attention. “Well then I better get to work right away then. I mean, what kind of handyman would I be if I let my own friends go without the awesome power of electricity?” As he passed Wendy to leave he told her, “Take the rest of the day off girl-dude, you’ve earned it.”

Wendy punched in the air to show her enthusiasm and she headed out the door with her boss. “Later bros, don’t do anything crazy till I get back.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Pacifica muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Mabel grabbed Soos by the hand just before he could leave and queried, “Wait Soos, are you sure you’re ok?”

The man in question straightened the fez atop his head and beamed at her. “Yeah, all thanks to you and the fashionista. Don’t worry.”

Satisfied in his answer, the young woman released his hand and allowed him to leave the room. Dipper also flipped the light switch to his room a few times and shrugged when there was no effect. So instead he took the blanket down from his window and let in the natural light of the day, causing him and his companions to squint against the new brightness. 

He shrugged and stated, “Well it’s not the worst thing in the world. I mean, reading by candle light is pretty cool.”

“Oh Dipper, I’m sorry.” Pacifica fretted, sitting down on his bed.

The young man ran a hand through his undone hair and covered it with his pine tree cap and responded, “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Paz.”

She hugged an arm around her middle and muttered, “No I know, it’s just, this wouldn’t have happened if I just hadn’t shaken Bill’s hand.” 

“Paz, don’t blame yourself.” Mabel cooed with a tiny head shake.

“I don’t.” She quickly snapped. Then she sighed and started over, “Sorry, I don’t blame myself. But dammit this would all be a lot easier if I hadn’t.”

Dipper hesitated, looking for the best thing to say as he slowly sat beside his significant other and curled his fingers together with her’s. “I mean, yeah I guess. B-but why would you be saying this if you didn’t still feel bad?”

Pacifica rotated her free hand at the wrist, searching her feelings for her words. “...I’m more… frustrated things didn’t go differently. I’m not upset with myself, just at what happened and what’s happening now. I don’t know if that makes any sense.”

Mabel asked, “You mean like you just wish Bill would’ve left you alone? And you’re all pouty because he isn’t?”

She wrinkled her nose and decided, “Yeah, exactly.”

“I think that makes perfect sense.” Dipper told her and affectionately squeezed her hand. 

The blonde’s lower lip wobbled just a tiny bit and she stared straight ahead as she continued, “Well, that’s good at least. But we know this isn’t over. Dipper, the rats chewed through the unicorn barrier and Mabel had to ruin her cloak to fix it.”

The cloak-wearing girl gazed down at her cloak and informed, “It’s not all that damaged, really.”

Pacifica carried on, “They turned into a giant monster and I had to save Mabel from it. Because- well,” she mused, “they wouldn’t touch me for some reason actually.”

“Why?” Dipper questioned with furrowed brows. The blonde shot him a look that made him cringe and quickly add, “Which is a good thing.”

His girlfriend kept going, “But they wanted past the vending machine just like the Eye Stealer did. This is a war we’re in the middle of and I’m not confident it’s over yet.” She was hunched over and hugging her arm tightly to herself by now, she realized, and let out a sharp breath to calm herself. Because of course the rats didn’t bite her, they wanted to hurt everyone around her and make her watch them succumb to whatever horrible illness they carried. If she knew Bill then she understood that would be the exact type of stunt he would pull. 

After planting a kiss atop her head, Dipper offered some advice to her. “It’s like I said before, we’ve survived everything so far and that’s not going to change. We beat Bill once and we can do it again.” 

Mabel gave her friend a reassuring smile and chirped, “You don’t have to worry about that, girl. Mabel’s on the case.” She saluted and stood rigidly at the ready, pretending to hold a rifle in her empty hands as she scanned the room for make-believe danger. “I’ll squash anything that hurts you. Unless y’know, it was ten thousand super rats. You saving me was super badass by the way.”

“Thanks Dipper, thanks Mabel.” Pacifica communicated softly, remembering how Mabel had brushed off her feelings when she had asked if she was alright earlier. She rubbed her eyes, suddenly feeling very tired. “Oh and all the wires on my PC are chewed through by the way.”

“And our Hanukkah setup in the kitchen was totally trashed.” Mabel huffed.

“Wait, what?” Dipper startled, jumping to his feet. “Ugh, I can’t believe it. No actually, I can and that’s worse.” He gave an apologetic frown to the both of them and added, “I’m sorry guys.”

Mabel was right there with him in complaining. “I know right? Stupid Bill trying to ruin our Hanukkah.”

“Tell me about it.” Pacifica pouted with an eye-roll. “Bill needs to get shredded through a cheese grater.” 

The young man started towards the kitchen and questioned, “So what even happened today? I’ve got bits and pieces but tell me the story.”

Mabel started, “Oh my goodness, okay so when I woke up I went to check on you and you looked in dire need for a glow-up so I ran to Paz and she…” 

With the end of the final blessing said by Mabel shortly after the sun had dipped beneath the horizon and brought on the beginning of night, Dipper helped Pacifica to light the shamash. The sweater wearing girl watched as the blonde hesitantly leaned over the table with the repaired table runner and lit the rightmost candle with a cautious smile. She glanced at her boyfriend, who gave her an approving nod, and then lit the second candle to mark the second night of Hanukkah. Finally, she put the shamash back in the center and stepped backwards in between Dipper and Mabel and in front of Soos to enjoy the beauty of the menorah against the backdrop of the starry sky out the kitchen window.

But it was difficult for her to enjoy the moment wondering when the next horror that was sent by Bill would arrive hovering in the back of her mind. That and the ever looming dread of going back to school on Monday. Oh and then there was her dad living here and making life harder for her too. If only she could just be left alone by Cipher and her terrible father, then she could be at peace. These thoughts weren’t helping her to just enjoy the moment like she should’ve been, so she reached out and took Dipper’s hand a little faster than she maybe should have. She squeezed his hand and offered him an expression with slightly furrowed brows with a miniscule frown and he seemed to understand it since he put an arm around her shoulder and let her scoot closer to him.

Dipper was worried for her knowing she would have to go back to school on Monday while having to handle everything that was going on with Cipher and her father. If only he had the ability to take away her pain, then she could feel better at least. But knowing that was probably outside of the realm of possibility, he knew the next best option was to let her rely on him and the three of them on each other. It brought him some peace that they were getting through this together. Because he had learned that if he could get his sister back across several dimensions of space, then they could surely conquer this trial too. 

Next to them, Mabel was having similarly distressing thoughts but hid it behind an easy-going grin watching the couple comfort one another. She had been trying to be optimistic for them but after what had transpired today was on another level of crazy. Gravity Falls was a weird place and she loved it for that, but this was the wrong kind of weird. This hadn’t been a fun time rescuing a handsome merman from the public pool or telling stories after falling into a bottomless pit, no this had been a demonic pile of rats that trashed the shack and hurt Dipper and Soos trying to get to a portal that could spell doom to the whole world. Pacifica was right, Bill had waited until the holiday had started to strike again. He was trying to tear her family apart using her first Hanukkah and Christmas season back in Gravity Falls and he was ruining them! 

A part of her still wanted to try and make the best of it but now she wasn’t sure how because she felt like she was nearing her breaking point. Tomorrow marked five days left until Christmas and she should’ve been jumping for joy. There was very little room for delight in her heart when she was looking at Dipper and Pacifica holding each other tightly, knowing that her friend must be in distress. Normally Mabel knew she’d have no problem just bouncing back to her default optimism as if she was made of rubber but this was all starting to be too much for her. She realized this probably wasn’t the most mentally healthy position to be in with keeping everything all bottled up, but what other choice did she have? Besides, how could she be letting this happen? To have gotten to this headspace in the first place? She was supposed to be the happy one, the person everybody could rally behind while she led the charge but now she was just exhausted. She simply wished she could focus on being a teenager, just like Grunkle Ford had told her the night she discovered he was planning on leaving with Stan. But there was no backing down from Cipher at this point and she also couldn’t allow herself to succumb to weakness and break down in front of her loved ones either; she was stuck. 

A frustration rose bitterly in her throat, one that was directed at herself. What was so wrong with her? She had been handling Bill for years at this point so why was she slipping now? Her anger for herself coated the back of her throat like she had drunk a slick poison. At the edges of her mind, it subconsciously reached out for the prophecy, the one given to her by the Oracle under the direction of the Axolotl and was causing her all this stress as she watched the flames of the menorah flicker.

Chapter Text

“C’mon Stanley, we have to go. The portal will close in only a few hours.” Ford’s voice called from above him as he was gently shaken awake.

Stan opened his eyes blearily to see his own blurry face staring back at him. Not because the sun was rising or anything reasonable like that, no it was because the full moon was still out to illuminate Ford. With a groan, he sat upright and rubbed his eyes before getting to his feet with a sleepy body that was rather upset with getting its rest cut short. As much as he hated being woken up at such an hour, Stan knew he’d rather face his discomfort now than risk missing a portal and having to hike for who knew how long to find another open one. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to complain about it though.

“It should be illegal to be up before the sun is. You got too much energy for someone your age, Sixer.” Stan grunted as he slipped on his shoes and attached his bedroll to his bag.

“It’s you have too much energy. Besides Stanley, we’re the same age.” Ford blinked owlishly, the joke going completely over his head.

“Yeah I know, that’s the- nevermind.” He sighed while he climbed to his feet. “So we’re goin’ north-east right?” He questioned, popping open a compass. 

Ford stiffly nodded. “Yes, about seven miles or about eleven and a half kilometers. But you remember this planet’s magnetic field lines are perpendicular to Earth’s, right?” 

“Yeah, an’ it makes the compass not point to the magnetic north, which is all screwy if ya ask me.” Stan responded. “Awright, we go this way, right?” He pointed in the direction of the portal and then looked to his brother for clarification.

Ford peered at his Multipurpose Portaling Device and grinned at the sonar-like screen that pinged all nearby portals within a hundred miles. A singular red dot indicating the interdimensional gateway they were headed towards blipped whenever the line crossed over it and he beamed, “That’s exactly right, that way it is. You’re rather good at that.”

Stan chuckled a little as they took their first steps away from camp. “I traveled the whole country by car Sixer, I sure hope I’m good at navigatin’.” Despite the early hour and most of his brain wanting to go back to the blissful state of sleep, the man found the fun in the moment. To him, it was almost like they were together on the open seas, charting a course to their next destination. Just without the boat- or any water for that matter, but the adventure was still there and so was Ford, so that was all that really mattered to him. He held on to it ever so tightly, like the world would end if he ever let go.

But we don’t fully trust him, remember yesterday? A voice called out in warning in Stan’s mind. Sure, maybe that was true, he reluctantly agreed. But that wasn’t going to stop him from relishing the moment, or so he thought. The little reminder in his head clung to his brain like a tumor and he was unable to cut it out, souring his mood somewhat as his smile turned to a carefully placed neutral expression. 

Ford heard his brother’s words about navigating the country and suddenly Stan’s laugh felt far away and hollow in his ears. Stan had been through so much and he hadn’t been there to help him with it. But why couldn’t he just live in the fun of the moment? That chapter of Stan’s life was long gone and hadn’t they agreed to put the past behind them and focus on now? They had talked it out, said they were sorry, and now had gotten all the way here together. A guilt came to him for being unable to let go. 

Then there was the realization that he hadn’t completely trusted Stan yesterday and it added to his pile of unwelcome feelings that sat in his stomach. He frowned at the grey, sandy ground and his head spun to figure out the root of why he was hesitant to trust. Trust no one . Bill’s words rang in his mind and he mentally shooed them away. Cipher had been trying to isolate him and make him paranoid, he knew that now and would never listen to it again. He trusted Stan, at least up to a point. But this distinct flavor of distrust felt different somehow, but he couldn’t put his finger on exactly why. 

Eventually, the twins’ negative states of mind subsided into a more neutral one as they focused on their hike and beating the heat of the rising sun to the portal. Neither brother was overly talkative that morning, partially from the half night of sleep and partially because of their lingering mental unease that sat in the background of their overall mood. After three hours of their trek, the trans dimensional gateway was reached and both brothers stepped through to Dimension 19#;.

As soon as the light faded from Ford’s eyes and he was able to blink in the natural sunlight of Dimension 19#;, he found himself and Stan to be standing at the top of the steps to one of four portals in the middle of a town square made up of vibrant red-orange brick layed out in a circular pattern. Brick and clay single and double story buildings with sweeping shingled roofs sprawled out in all directions in the town and beyond, a thick and lush green jungle dotted with towering bamboo-like plants surrounded them. Many immense pillars of rock jutted out of the earth like plateaus and brushed the low hanging misty clouds that filled the air with thick, hot humidity. Many white, blue, and pink knitted banners displaying axolotls among a swirl of bubbles hung from door frames and from window sills as the townspeople, bipedal red and white peafowl that stood on average a head taller than the humans, went about their duties with midday energy. Every single one of the adults was dressed in a tan robe with a red trim and carried some sort of melee weapon with them, whether it be a sword or spear, axe, javelin, or a shield.

Nobody paid the two humans much mind when they came through the portal and stepped down into the square, only a few children being led by their parents turned their heads to see what the commotion was about. The brothers gazed around, getting their bearings on the new environment for a moment.

“The last dimension was hot, now it’s hot and wet? Great.” Stan complained, unbuttoning the top two buttons on his black shirt. “Sixer, are we absolutely sure this is the right place? Cuz i’m pretty sure I remember Luik mentioning Dimension 19#; having air conditioning.” He added, swatting at a dozen or so bugs that hovered around his face.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Ford responded as he stuffed his trench coat and sweater into his bag, leaving him much cooler in a dark t-shirt. 

Something seemed to catch Stan’s nose since he sharply turned his head in the direction of a wall-less restaurant packed to capacity and sheltered only by the overhang of a shingled roof and licked his lips, stating, “Nevermind, we’re in the right place.”

Ford smirked and made eye contact with a peafowl that passed in front of them, asking, “Excuse me, we’re looking for Paladin Thaem, is this the city of Alulohc?”

The peacock stopped and pointed with a feathered digit to an expansive pillar of light brown rock that stood over the entire town. “Paladin Thaem resides in the temple.”

“Thank you kindly.” Ford said.

“We’re not stoppin’ for food then, are we?” Stan asked glumly, his eyes still on the restaurant.

Ford opened his mouth to speak when he realized that he was actually still hungry if the grumbling in his stomach was anything to go off of. Their rationed breakfast of dry sustenance bars had been pretty light, not to mention unappetizing. “I suppose we could spare a little detour.” He decided.

The grin that came to Stan’s face was priceless.

With two to-go bowls full of a long-grain carbohydrate topped with beautiful yellow curry, the brothers continued through the town and towards the temple. They appeared to be the only non-natives in the city, but that didn’t bother them, much unlike the previous dimension they had been in. 

“Mmm Ford, it’s so creamy and like full of spice, but not in an overwhelming way. It’s just right.” Stan said through shoveling spoonfuls of food down his throat.

“They seemed rather popular, I don’t doubt it’s delicious.” The old scientist agreed and took his first bite. His brother was correct, the flavor hit his tongue in all the correct ways with just the perfect intensities. Plus, the texture was just right in his mind, which was good because that tended to be something he was picky about. He swallowed the food and replied, “You were right.” 

They crossed through a bamboo gate in the high brick walls that surrounded the perimeter of town and entered a courtyard no larger than a baseball field that was decorated very similarly to everything else around there, with a few planters here and there growing a palm tree in each. A grandiose dark bronze statue depicting a peacock holding a staff and looking out into the distance over the town sat right in the middle. At the far end were a set of bamboo steps that led several stories up into the side of the rock face, where a strip had been cut away around its middle and was presumably where the temple was located. The courtyard was far from empty though, since six groups of about ten peafowl students each were spread evenly in the space, each directed by an instructor. Their training consisted of everything from hand-to-hand combat, martial arts, and Axolotl spellcasting. Again, no one seemed to pay them much attention at all and they were free to walk right up to the sculpture uninterrupted.

A little plaque at the base of the artistry said something in a language Stan couldn’t understand but beneath it, he was able to read in Universal Text, “ This statue is dedicated to the late Oracle Mateh, who was best known for holding off an invasion from the Henchmaniacs when Bill Cipher infiltrated his ranks, turning his people into a race of proud warriors to keep evil at bay, and a love for good curry. This temple was built in his honor after his death in battle and houses his legendary Staff of Light.”  

“I betcha this ‘Staff of Light’ has something to do with what Nuul was talking about.” Stan told his brother.

“You mean the legendary weapon? Yes, I pray you’re right.” Ford said evenly and led them both up the creaking bamboo stairs. If he and Stan were correct, then getting ahold of this supposed staff could potentially be their next step to going back to the Blind Caverns.

“Can’t anywhere have an elevator?” Stan muttered to himself as they reached the top.

At the end of the stairs was a room, wider than it was long, that had been carved away into the belly of the rock pillar with two rows of supporting tan stone columns decorated with smiling Axolotl faces. The space was very open, making Stan fear the top of the mountain was going to collapse and crush them due to inadequate support while they took their first step onto the ground tiled with circles and made from the same polished rock as the rest of the temple. The front wall was nonexistent and faced the direction where the sun would set, allowing natural light to seep into the space. A long wooden rack of weapons took up the entire left wall while a squat and cozy couple of brown chairs sat around a bamboo coffee table in the middle of the right side. Leaning up against two of the posts on the right half of the room were two dummies composed of leather and straw with several javelins sticking out of them. In the very center was the only other living soul in sight, a red and white peafowl with her back to them, her vast, fanning tail feathers to the ceiling and blocking her out.

A javelin was thrown by someone other than the peacock, hidden by her feathers, and it hit one of the dummy’s shoulders. “Listen, from one dino to another, you should understand I don’t have feathers like you do. Jumping isn’t going to help me get a better angle because I’m not going to float to the ground, I’m going to fall.” The javelin thrower explained with mild frustration.

“Then leap higher,” The peacock explained, “it’s not my fault you have a chicken’s legs.” She demonstrated by bringing her tail feathers down to the ground with the rest of her body, leaping high into the air and spreading them back out, allowing her to get a superior angle on the dummy and throw a javelin right into its heart. Her movement also finally allowed Stan and Ford to see who she was speaking with and the humans were surprised to see Katee standing there, her tail wrapped around one of her legs in discomfort.

“See, like that.” The instructor stated.

But Katee was no longer listening because she made eye contact with the twins, whose gazes also met her’s and she stepped around the avian to stretch out her one and a half arms for a hug. “Hey friends!” She beamed, pulling Ford and then Stan into an embrace.

“What a pleasant surprise, Katee.” Ford smiled back as he returned the hug.

Stan chuckled, “Wow this is just like runnin’ into someone you know at the airport. How’re you doin’, kid?”

Katee placed her hand on her hip and replied, “First of all, what’s an airport? Second of all, I’m doing much better than I was, young man .”

The younger of the twins lightly punched her in the shoulder and laughed, “Good to hear it.” She wasn’t lying, Katee looked much healthier and was practically back up to a good weight. No longer was she the sunken eyed, skin and bones paladin with a head full of nightmares. A bright smile graced her toothy maw and while she was still on the skinnier side, her skin wasn’t sickly pale like it used to be and had returned to its naturally vibrant red-purple pattern.

The dino eyed the food they were carrying and laughed, “That smells great. I can’t believe you didn’t get me some.”

“Well if we knew you were here, we could’ve planned ahead.” Ford shrugged easily.

“Ahem.” The peafowl said from behind the three of them, her nine bells jingling against her waist as she crossed her arms. 

Katee’s expression fell to irritation and she rolled her eye behind the bird’s back before turning to face her with a grin and said, “I apologize for stopping Paladin Thaem but these are my friends, Ford and Stan.”

“How’s it hanging?” Stan waved.

“Greetings.” Ford said and stepped forward to hold out his hand for Thaem to shake. The new paladin did shake his hand, albeit curtly, like she was being forced to.

She looked the two humans up and down, unimpressed, and prodded, “You’re not students too, are you? Katee’s been a handful for me already.” 

I can see why Nuul likes this chick. Stan thought, cracking a smile at his own pun. “Nah, we’re here because Nuul sent us. She says you can help us repel demon magic?”

“Nuul?” Thaem questioned with a head bob. “I’ve never heard of such a creature. Katee, do you know of this?”

Katee pulled the javelins out of the dummies and slid them into an appropriately sized quiver on her back. “I knew they were trying to find out more about the Blind Caverns to get across them. Why they’re here specifically though, I dunno.”

Ford clarified, “Nuul said you’re rumored to be the guardian of some sort of magical artifact. An artifact that could help us traverse the Blind Caverns and enter Bill Cipher’s domain, if you’re willing to part with it of course.”

Thaem eyed the man sharply, as if he had committed some great sin and Ford shrank back a little under her gaze. “As the apprentice of Oracle Mateh, may the Axolotl guide his soul, he entrusted me with the sacred duty to guard the entrance to the Dungeon of the Staff of Light upon his deathbed, where his final resting place now is.” She explained, gesturing to the far end of the room where the humans only just realized contained a set of formidable double stone doors. “I have not shrunk from that duty for at least six hundred years, yet you have the audacity to approach me and ask me to give away the most sacred item of my people?”

Ford raised his arms disarmingly and took a physical step back. “I mean you no disrespect, Paladin Thaem. I apologize deeply if I have offended you. But you must understand, we have been met with dead end after dead end trying to prepare ourselves for the Blind Caverns and this Staff of Light could be crucial to us. Wouldn’t you rest well knowing your sacred artifact played a direct role in the downfall of Bill Cipher himself?”

Thaem eyed the men and Katee suspiciously and abruptly turned on her heel, smacking the humans in the face with her lengthy tail feathers, towards the far doors where a mural had been carved into the stone. As the three of them followed, she pointed to a depiction of the staff glowing fervently in Mateh’s feathered hands and continued, “What makes you worthy of such a weapon? A weapon that has the power to shine brighter than any demonic flames and shuts the eyes of all that is despicable and blinds what is evil so your eyes may be singular to the Axolotl’s light?”

“Let us prove it to you, however you see fit.” Ford bargained, following after her.

Stan snapped his fingers and spoke up eagerly, “Yeah ‘cuz that’s it, that’s exactly what we’ve been lookin’ for, Thaem. All that stuff about blinding the crap outta what’s evil ought to work perfectly in the caves.” 

“Because it must be able to blind the demonic eyes in the Blind Caverns and keep them shut, that has to be it.” Ford added enthusiastically.

Thaem stretched out her long neck to its full length to look down on them condescendingly. “We are a proud and talented race of warriors devoted only to the Axolotl. We value prowess and collaboration and the tomb that guards Mateh’s staff reflects that. It is full of his inventions, his expertly designed traps, and is not for the faint of heart.” She eyed the doors that presumably led to the dungeon as if she could see deep into the depths of the earth itself and look upon the legendary weapon. “Only a person of great courage, a hero, one who has sacrificed and has yet to sacrifice much will be able to lay their hands upon the Staff of Light. A person like Oracle Mateh.”

Katee eyed Ford when Paladin Thaem offered her explanation since it seemed to her like he fit the description rather well. Then she jutted in somewhat desperately, “Oh let me help them. Please Paladin Thaem? I’ve been practicing with you all month, I’ve been dying for something exciting to happen.” 

Ford raised his brows at the dino, never before had he seen her seemingly stuck under the thumb of another, not even Oracle Jheselbraum. She gave him a silent look back that told him, ‘ I’ll tell you later ’.

The peacock gazed with displeasure at the dinosaur, “You know that Jheselbraum’s instructions were explicitly to not-”

Katee cut her off, “Oh please? I’m so tired of waiting, I’m ready for action.”

“Yeah let us try, what’s the worst that could happen, your spooky dungeon gains a few more skeletons?” Stan argued, setting his empty bowl down on a nearby end table.

Ford persuaded, “Thaem, if we’re worthy, shouldn’t the Axolotl allow us to take hold of the Staff of Light unharmed?” 

The bird strutted back and forth in front of the doors, slowly and deep in thought. After what felt like hours, she finally stopped and stared at them darkly. “Fine, you may all go, but you must rely on one another to make it through.” She grabbed ahold of the cool stone knobs and hoisted open the heavy doors that scraped along the floor and stepped out of their way. “Katee, if Jheselbraum asks why you never returned to her, It’s only my duty to inform her it was your own fault.”

“You got it.” Katee beamed brightly as she followed Stan and Ford onto the top step of the dark staircase that led down into pitch blackness with no discernable bottom.

“May the Axolotl guide your soul.” The paladin bowed to them and shut the thick stone doors that grinded against the ground with a low rumble.

“Wow, that was just rude.” Katee said with an eye roll and took a step downwards.

“Whadda ya mean?” Stan asked, straining to see anything in the darkness.

“She means she thinks we’re already done for and hopes our souls get guided to the afterlife, Mictlan, by the Axolotl.” The dino explained.

Ford flicked on his flashlight and pointed it down the stairs and was relieved to see it only dove for a few dozen steps before they hit the bottom of another room. The stony walls were chill and slick with condensation, as well as painted black to darken everything. A pair of grinning Axolotls stretched out on the walls down the steps as if they were happily inviting them into the formidable space that smelled of the damp earth. 

“Alright everybody, be careful and watch your step. Thaem said there were traps down here and I don’t want anybody falling into a spike pit.” Ford instructed and took his first careful step.

Stan whistled low and inspected the stairs before he made a move. “This is like somethin’ straight outta Iowa Jones Sixer.”

“Iow-what?” Ford questioned.

“Yeah y’know, Iowa Jones , came out in ‘81. We watched it with the niblings?”

His brother nodded with recognition. “Oh yes, that’s right. That’s the one where he has the whip and fights the Nazis, right?”

“What’s a Nat-zee?” Katee inquired, briefly pausing to cast a light spell. “Aucwcmw, lfush fj pxhs,” she whispered and a ball of radiance illuminated in her palm.

“A buncha’ losers.” Stan said as he stopped at the base of the stairs.

“Oh, that doesn’t answer my question though.” The dino deadpanned.

Ford eyed the bubble patterned floor distrustingly in the small square room and knelt down to inspect the circular motifs for any hidden wires or pressure plates. “I have a question for you, Katee. What are you doing here in Dimension 19#;?”

Katee groaned and leaned against the wall just above the bottom step. “Well after what happened to me in the Blind Caverns, Jess thought it would be best if I focused on some more training with the most warrior cultured, Axolotl worshiping race in the whole Multiverse, which just so happened to be here.”

“That sounds like a pretty sweet ticket, so why the long face?” Stan asked.

Katee sighed and let her arm hang between her thighs. “It’s that, well, I killed two Henchmaniacs and nearly got to the Nightmare Realm all on my own and Jess thinks I need to stay here and train. I wanted to go with you guys to the Library but I was denied. I’m just… ready for so much more but Jess doesn’t seem to think so.”

“That sounds tough.” Stan agreed.

“Is that why you had to beg Thaem to let you down here?” Ford inquired.

“Ugh, yes.” Katee sighed, scratching at the scar tissue around her empty eye socket. 

Katee descended the final step and as soon as she did, the slab of stone all three were standing on abruptly lifted itself from the rest of the floor and rotated along the wall at top speed until they were whipped to a closed stone door on the right side of the room and came to a dead halt. A hanging oil lamp in each corner of the ceiling blazed to life, bathing the space in an orange glow. With the added light, the trio saw the walls were decorated with carved out depictions of skeletons following an Axolotl, towards them, while two mountain peaks stood in the background. The path back to the stairs was sealed off by a sliding stone slab then all was silent again, except the pounding of their hearts. Ford slowly let go of the death grip he had on the lip of the slab and Katee had to practically peel her claws back out of Stan’s shoulder, who had frozen in fright when they had abruptly started moving. 

“Well that was… unexpected.” Ford finally said after clearing his throat, standing up, and turning off his flashlight while pretending like nothing had happened.

“Geez, I think I need a shoulder replacement after that.” Stan winced, rolling his afflicted joint.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?” Katee winced, taking her bell out of her pouch. “I-I can heal you.”

“No it’s nothin’, I’m fine.” Stan grunted.

“He’s dramatic.” Ford said distractedly, his eyes to the ceiling.

“So are you, drama queen.” Stan shot back, his gaze also turning to above them.

Neither brother kept on with their sibling bickering because something had caught their eye, or more precisely, several somethings. Many metal nozzles, lined up in two equal rows, stuck out just a little from the ceiling as if they were waiting to eject something.

“They appear as though they’re built to emit a mist or a gas.” Ford mused.

Stan’s eyes followed the rows of nozzles to the far side of the room, which led him to a white key hanging from the distant wall. “Oh hey, lookit that, a key.” He dictated, slowly turning around to get a good look at the wet rock door behind them that was sealed tightly shut. He eyed the key-hole and continued with a grin, “Haha, yes! That means there’s a lock for me to pick.”

As Stan knelt down and placed his lock-picking kit on the ground to select the correct pick, Ford felt a feeling of apprehension start to squirm in his stomach. “Stanley, I’m not so sure about that. I don’t think cheating is the correct answer here.”

“Cheating’s always the correct answer, Sixer. Why overthink yourself when the answer is hiding in plain sight? Lemme just take care of this, awright?” Stan barked back as he slid the pick into the lock hole, which was the open mouth of a peafowl skull. He knew what he was doing, he could trust himself. This was what he was good at, what made him useful. If he just focused on what he knew then maybe they could get out of here unscathed and then he could prove to Ford what he was capable of. Nothing would go wrong and nothing would be his fault.

Ford eyed the pressure sensing tiles on the floor in front of them, keeping them from reaching the white key on the far side, and noticed that the pattern was mirrored on the left and right half of the room. “We can do this by the rules, Stan. See here, there must be some sort of pattern, there’s two identical paths to and from the key here, as well as two rows of nozzles.” He looked to his brother and discovered that he wasn’t paying any attention to him at all, instead only focusing on getting the lock with his tongue sticking out in concentration. The scientist groaned internally, why couldn’t anything ever be easy for him?

He tried asking the dino, “Katee, what do you-”

“Shh- shh. I’m thinking.” She shushed him, covering his mouth with her claws with her eye to the key.

Something behind the two of them clicked and Stan exclaimed triumphantly, “I think I got it. Heh, that was a piece of cake.”

He got to his feet and attempted to push the door open but it refused to budge. Instead, an angry rumbling came from around them as the nozzles overhead roared to life and spat out a continuous cloud of noxious, green gas and the walls began to close in on either side of them.

“Stan, what did you do?” Ford yelled in an accusatory tone over the deafening moving of the rock. 

Trying not to wince guiltily, Stan ignored the way his brother’s words cut deeply and eyed their ticket out of the room. Ford seemed to know what he was thinking since he added, “We still need to solve this thing to make it out.”

“We’ll be dead before that happens. Sixer, help me get the… cough … key.” He shot back and began to dash across the room.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not following you out there!” Ford shouted as he started to cough.

Hearing Ford’s cry hurt him as he raced across the room to snatch up the key as quickly as he could. Nearly every circle Stan stepped on set off some sort of hidden trap and the man dodged flimsy floor pit traps, pillars of fire that sprung up from underneath him, and hidden darts that fired from the ceiling until his fingers curled around the key, which he discovered was made from bone. As Katee watched him with a gaping jaw, his foot made contact with a tile that lowered under his weight and sped up the rate of the closing walls considerably as the poison in the air made his eyes water and his lungs burn. He would have to high tail it now if he didn’t want to become flat as a stancake between the walls.

Ford was gaping at him with a mixture of fear and frustration as Katee was trying fruitlessly to push the walls apart with her strength. His brother cried to him, “Are you crazy? You’re making it worse.” 

Only a few steps from the door, the slick stone was threatening to press against his shoulders and he had to side step now to continue past Katee and his twin. The gas was so thick he held his breath and prayed it wouldn’t be his last. “Just shut up, Ford. You were the one who was going to get us all killed by doing nothing.” He jammed the key into the lock and turned it as the room pressed all their bodies uncomfortably together. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

The door took the key and flew open, popping them through into the next room as a pile of limbs and torsos and they fell onto the floor in a coughing heap. Ford’s shoulder made its displeasure with the meeting of the floor known while Katee rubbed her side climbing to her feet and Stan flexed his left hand painfully as he sat up.

Just like their previous trial, four hanging lamps brought forth fire in each corner to give light to the visitors. The new room they were in was not too large and simple at first glance, with several intricately carved, jade decorated, clay sarcophaguses lined up at either end. Each had a depiction of the dead soldier as they were in life on the lid. A chill dampness hung in the air, like that of a cave, and clung to the blackened walls, which showed many peacock skeletons following an axolotl swimming through the air to the double stone doors at the far side of the room. The floor in this space, which was once flat, had become bumpy and uneven due to time and erosion and as such, was slippery with condensation. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody with quite the decision making skills like yours, Stan.” Ford huffed hoarsely while he stood. 

“Yeah well unlike you, I… cough … just saved our asses back there so the least you could do is… cough …  thank me.” Stan shot back, punching the toxin from his lungs with a fist to his chest. 

Ford sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was trying, with much difficulty, to trust his brother at that moment. But Stan had nearly gotten them seriously hurt back there, if not worse. If extending trust to his brother meant putting himself in harm’s way then he was going to have to withhold it for the time being. Telling himself that made him feel better in his conscious mind but somewhere in the depths, unease was lurking. He ignored it.

As much as Stan had wanted to take Ford’s word and listen to it in the heat of the moment in that death trap, it would’ve majorly injured them. Ford meant well, he knew that, but he couldn’t expect himself to have complete faith in his twin if lives were on the line. That reasoning eased his guilty conscience, but failed to do the same for his subconscious. He turned a blind eye to it.

“Fine, thank you.” Ford grumbled. “Just don’t do anything stupid again, got it?”

Stan felt the immense sting of his twin’s words and retorted with some venom of his own, “As long as you admit you’re sorry for not helping me.” Ford had hit him where it hurt because he was angry at him for trying to find his own creative solution to the last puzzle and choosing the wrong answer no doubt. Ford knew that was a sore spot for him and was using it against him. That was what he got for trying to not doubt his brother, he bitterly supposed.

The sentence Stan had said was like a spear to Ford’s heart. Stan was aware of just how sorry he had been for everything. He would have only used his specific choice of words if he wanted to hurt him, obviously since he was upset by his lack of a desire to kill himself doing exactly the opposite of what he was supposed to in the room they had just escaped from. It seemed to him that the only thing believing in his carbon copy was bringing him right now was pain. 

The twins' eyes shot up to meet one another with glares sharper than broken glass, sending a thick and heated feeling rippling across the room. Katee felt it too because she exclaimed rather awkwardly, “Woah, hey! Are you guys gonna get out of here or are you going to keep at each others’ throats?” She was starting to feel like a third wheel on a malfunctioning bicycle and she wasn’t very sure she liked it.

Both brothers turned to her, alarmed, like they had briefly forgotten she was even there. It seemed like she had jumped in and broken up the fight just before it could actually get started because Ford’s expression turned to a civil one but with obvious anger bubbling underneath and replied, “No, we shall continue and not get sidetracked.”

“Speak for yourself, Ford. Ima take a looksie at these.” Stan snorted, waltzing up to one of the sarcophaguses and thumbing at the gemstones lining the exterior. 

Arrogant jerk. He thought angrily but then he sighed, that feeling leaving while a heavier one arrived. 

Stan decided it would probably be best to table his argument with Ford for the sake of their circumstances. A downcast feeling entered Stan’s heart, he didn’t know why they seemed to be fighting so much recently, but bringing that up to his twin made his legs want to run as fast as they could in the opposite direction. So seeing that he was currently trapped in a stone box under the earth with Ford, he kept his mouth shut. A part of him wondered if it was all his fault, like most things in his life seemed to be.

“They’re so pretty. They must be a part of the puzzle.” Katee noted, inspecting the same box as him. 

The scientist surveyed the walls and observed their similarities to the previous room. The axolotl was leading the dead to the door on the far side, just like it had in the last puzzle. So the goal must be then to open that other door then, he figured. As he wandered over, his mind unfortunately came back to the scrap he and his brother had just gotten into. As righteous as his anger currently was, it was rather sad and unimpressive deep at its core. He never enjoyed actually arguing with Stan, but sometimes it just had to be done for his own sake. Stan was a great family member for the most part and he respected him now, but goodness whenever he managed to get  under his skin, he got deep.

Being so deep in his own head, Ford failed to notice the spiderweb thin wire pulled tight across the middle of the room and snapped it right in half the second he crossed the border to the far side. Before he could react, a thick wall of rough and dark stone shot up from the floor, separating him from Stan and Katee. 

He spun around on his heel to hopefully make it back to them in time but it was too late. “Stan? Katee? Are you okay?” He yelled. 

There was no response.

“What’s going on in there?”

Nothing.

He sighed in frustration, mostly at himself, as he took a few careful steps backwards and glanced around at his surroundings to see if anything else had changed. This was fine, it wasn’t anything he couldn’t deal with. Worst case scenario he would just bore a tunnel through with the Quantum Destabilizer. It didn’t take him long to realize that the lids to the sarcophaguses had also slid open and their nonliving inhabitants were beginning to stir. He drew his blaster and raised it out in front of himself, ready for a fight.

When a massive wall suddenly rose from the center of the space with a noisy grinding, it was immediately noticed by Stan and Katee. There wasn’t even time to react, one second Ford was there and the next he was gone, trapped on the other side of the room. 

“Oh no, Ford?” Stan shouted, running to the wall.

“Ford, can you hear us?” Katee roared.

Either Ford wasn’t okay or the wall was so thick no noise could get through. Stan desperately hoped it was the latter as he leaned against the new wall and furrowed his brows at the open sarcophaguses.

“...Weren’t those things definitely not opening on their own just a second ago?” He asked with growing unease.

A skeletal, feathered hand reached over the lip of the nearest box and Katee gulped, “Yeah definitely.” 

An unholy sort of groaning noise came from what was inside the open clay coffin as what would have at one point been a beautiful, feathered peafowl rose from its prison. Its skin had sloughed off long ago, leaving its muscles exposed and tightly stretched over its bones, only its winged flight feathers remaining. Furthermore, all its digestive organs had been removed from its abdominal cavity, making its blackened lungs droop to the bottom of the ribs and revealing a still beating heart behind the torn muscles on its ribcage. But attached snugly to the front of its circulatory organ was a rectangular, grey stone of some sort, covered in magical glowing runes and dotted with green jade. Four more undead avians also rose from their graves, all brandishing a different weapon and their hearts protected by the same stone slab.

“What the hell? What’s with the necromancy, I thought the Axolotl was a good guy?” Stan exclaimed, looking in all directions in an attempt to face every threat in the room while he dug his brass knuckles out of his pants pocket.

“He is.” Katee explained, throwing a javelin right into the neck of the nearest enemy. It only shuddered and continued forward. “The Axolotl is a god over the dead and our souls. When we die, we call out to Him and He guides us to the afterlife, to Mictlan.” An arrow bounced off of her chest as a flash of rosy energy blocked it, ringing one of her bells.

Stan dodged the swinging sword of one of the undead and retaliated by pummeling it in the head and flipping it backwards. “That’s nuts, this is nuts. Believe me, there’s nothing good about zombies.”

Through the wall behind them, they could hear the muffled sounds of a blaster being fired. So that answered Stan’s question on whether or not Ford was alive. If he had to guess, he would say he was handling the same problem as them, just with a lot more firepower. Hearing gunfire had never made him so happy before and it brought a little bit of sunshine into his otherwise dreary situation.

“If it makes you feel any better, Thaem says they volunteered to keep part of their souls in that box over their heart to guard Oracle Mateh’s staff and final resting place. Apparently it’s a high honor.” She further clarified, sweeping an axe wielder off their feet with her tail. The dino fetched her handbell from her pouch, only for the archer in the back of the group to shoot it right out of her hand and send it rolling into some dark corner. “Show off.” She muttered to it.

“Wait, so you knew about this and didn’t think to tell me?” Stan asked incredulously, jumping back just in time to avoid the jab of a rotted spearman.

Katee took another step back against the wall as one of her bells blocked the swing of a blade. “Hey, of course not. I knew of this technology, not that it would be used against us here specifically. If I knew we were going to fight zombies, I would’ve definitely warned you. That’s just common courtesy.” 

“Well, is there anything else I should know about these undead jerks?” He responded, punching the spearman in the lungs before it could reposition itself to attack him. The mob retaliated by sending one of its members bashing him backwards with a shield and further cornering the two of them. The hit knocked his glasses askew and sent blood trailing from his nose and he readjusted them on his face as he muttered an expletive. 

“The artifact there over their hearts keeps them beating even after death, so they’re alive on technicality if you want to get real medical.” She said, throwing another javelin, this time at the archer. The shield wielder blocked her attack with its weapon, keeping its companion unharmed.

“The magic keeps them alive, huh?” Stan muttered to himself as Katee readied her final javelin. “Gimme that thing, would ya Katee?”

She tossed it into his hands and told him, “Sure I trust you, I’m better with my teeth anyways.”

The dinosaur hissed at the axeman and ducked under its attack before springing back up and closing her jaws right around its neck. A terrible crunching sound echoed around the room as she bit down hard and wrestled the undead to the floor, yanking its head from its shoulders in the process. Stan shuddered at the sight; he hadn’t forgotten the time she would have gladly done that to him. But yet, the headless corpse didn’t die, it only oozed centuries old blood from its carotid and jugular while it pushed Katee off of itself and even after it stopped bleeding and had drained itself, it still stumbled back onto its feet and faced her.

Holding the javelin was a little tricky with his knuckle dusters already in his fingers but the old man managed. He faced the nearest enemy, the swordsman, and cried, “Alright, get ready you ugly bastard ‘cuz I’m about to break your heart,” as he thrust the javelin like a spear right into the jeweled artifact and it cracked, sending a ghostly wail throughout the room as the runes flickered and a puff of ghostly, white smoke emit from the site of the break. The undead abruptly fell as if the strings to a puppet had been cut and it didn’t rise again.

“What’d you do?” The dino questioned, pulling another of her javelins from the shield of the undead and immediately turning around and using it to block the thrust of a spear. 

An arrow hit Stan right in the center of his backpack and luckily, it didn’t reach his skin. That didn’t mean he didn’t practically jump out of it when he felt the impact of the arrowhead. But noticing that he was in no pain and felt no hot liquid running down his back or soaking his shirt, he allowed a wave of relief to go through his mind and informed his companion, “Get ‘em right in the magic box over their heart and they drop like candy prices after Summerween.”

“Got it.” She said.

The paladin kicked the shieldman away from herself with a sturdy leg, sending it to the floor while she parried the spear, hoping to get an opening so she could make a move for its heart. As she pushed her own weapon forward however, her enemy side stepped and made its own move, forcing her to a defensive play, where she used her javelin to direct the spear to the ground. But only having one arm against her opponent’s two, her block was quickly overruled as the speartip came right for her heart. But to her benefit, Stan, who had been finishing off the shieldman before it could get off the ground, took the other undead by surprise and destroyed the magical item keeping it going with a well placed javelin thrust to the heart. 

“Haha, yes!” Stan laughed as a savage joy filled him upon seeing yet another crumble to the ground.

His laughter didn’t last long however, as in the next second an arrow embedded itself in Katee’s left thigh and she cried out in pain and stumbled backwards onto her behind. A grimace came to her face as she gazed down to inspect the damage and leaned against the wall to pick herself back up.

“Oh, that is definitely not good.” Stan winced, quickly closing the distance between them so he could help. As far as he could tell, she wasn’t bleeding profusely so that meant the projectile hadn’t hit any major arteries or veins. Or maybe it had, he didn’t know, he wasn’t an alien doctor- or a human one either for that matter.

Her pained expression quickly turned to alarm when she cried, “Stan, behind you!” 

“Huh?” He muttered, looking over his shoulder and yelping, “Oh geez,” as he narrowly dodged the axe of the undead. Stan swung for its head and only remembered that it actually was lacking one when his fist hit nothing. When the enemy made it to the lowest point of its swing, it exposed its chest to him and the man wasted no time grabbing it by the bottom of its ribs and punching up into its heart. Just like every other time, the stone cracked and sent a soul chilling moan into the air as its glowing runes died.

Just as Stan took care of the axe wielder, the archer raised its bow to hit Stan again and Katee threw her last javelin into its arm, pinning it against the back wall and returning Stan’s favor by saving his life. With a determined limp, she marched straight up to their final adversary as it tried to pull itself free and reached straight into its thoracic cavity and pulled the magical item straight off its heart. Once the thing left the archer’s body, it wailed just like the rest of them but didn’t break, only flickered out and stayed dark as the undead went limp.

Katee collapsed onto her knees, gently placing the artifact on the floor as she looked around desperately for her handbell. A deep, unbearable throbbing was coming from her thigh and she clenched her jaw and inhaled sharply, attempting to ride out the pain. She knew that unless she was able to heal herself, she would have to bear the agony of keeping the arrow embedded in her leg until she could get real medical help. But fortunately her savior, Stan, came running up to her as he took a handbell out of his pocket and said, “This should help, right? Because I swear I remember Mabel saying something about using these for medical junk?”

“Thanks. Where’d you- find it?” She grit out, firmly grasping the arrow and pulling it free from her quad muscles. As she did so, she began to bleed much more heavily and snatched the bell from Stan’s hand, quickly starting a spell.

“I, uh,” Stan mumbled, totally stunned by the scene that was playing out in front of him, “I think I need to sit down,” he muttered, starting to feel rather queasy. Not that this was the first time in his life that he had ever seen a wound like that, but blood and trauma had never anything that he ever found interesting, nor was it something he wanted to be around for that matter. He sat, leaning against one of the sarcophaguses and through closed eyes communicated, “That bell was a gift actually so don’t go getting it covered in blood. Yours is still somewhere around here.” 

His fingers brushed up against something next to him and he opened his eyes just a crack to discover it was the intact artifact Katee had pulled from the archer’s heart.  Upon closer inspection, he saw the whole thing was no more than two inches thick and the size of his palm. The runes were carved in a circle inside a larger circle of cut green jade. When he turned it around to the back, he found that it had been cut away and hollowed out into the shape of a heart, probably so it could be placed right on top of the organ. Two chains also wrapped around the back from top to bottom and side to side and would keep it from falling off. 

An immense sigh of relief came from the dino as she healed herself and she breathed, “Oh that’s much better.” With the injury no more, she muttered to herself, “Ugh, I knew I should’ve charged by bells before I came down here. That’s what I get for running in here all head strong. I can hear Jheselbraum’s voice chastising me right now, asking me why I wasn’t more patient.s

Finally feeling his lightheadedness leave him, Stan helped Katee up and she took notice of the stone in his hand. “Whatcha holding onto that for? It’s empty.”

“Empty?” Stan quizzed.

“Yeah, empty. As in, there’s no more soul fragment in there.” She said as she scanned the room for her missing bell.

The man turned the thing that was surprisingly hefty over in his hands, a wistful smile coming to his lips. The item was thoroughly covered in mystic runes and was weird enough to have the literal imprint of an anatomical heart on the back side, not to mention the chains that would keep it attached closely to the organ and never let go. It rather reminded him of Soos, as odd as it was, and he decided to keep the thing in his breast pocket and take it home to him as a souvenir. 

“Aha, found you.” Katee chirped, reaching behind a sarcophagus on the far side to grab her own bell. She tossed Stan his handbell that had been gifted to him from Meeyla and he pocketed it, silently grateful that the young paladin’s generosity in prison had helped them today.

“H-hello… bzzt … there? Is this th… working?” Ford’s staticky voice called out from Katee’s Multipurpose Portaling Device.

“Ford!” The two of them cried simultaneously.

“Ah, so it is.” He chuckled. “Ha… on, I’m trying to nail… static … signal.”

“It’s very sensitive.” Katee told him.

“Wha- where’s he coming from? Is it that thing?” Stan questioned, pointing to the portaling device, to which Katee nodded. He took a step closer to the dino and mumbled, “I didn’t know it could do that.” Then he asked much louder, “Ford, are ya ok?” 

“I think I got it, how do I sound? And yes Stanley, I’m fine, just had a bit of a scare with some undead guests… Well actually no, I suppose we were the guests in this scenario.” 

“You’re much clearer now.” Katee stated.

Stan snorted, “Oh that’s good, I’m fine by the way and so is Katee. Thanks for asking.”

On the other side of the wall, Ford rolled his eyes and ignored his brother’s comment, keeping the guilty feeling that wanted to make itself known tied down. He didn’t need grating words right now, he needed to figure out a way to get the wall between them down. Speaking of which, he asked them, “Do you two see on the barrier between us there’s some sort of pattern? It’s abstract and I can’t make anything of it.”

Katee approached the room divider and pressed a hand against the cool surface with countless lines starting and stopping in seemingly random intervals all along it. Some were straight and others were curved, or even zigzagged in certain places. “Yeah… I see it.” She said quietly.

Stan pressed his fingertips into one of the thin lines at the left side, feeling along it for any hidden buttons or switches. As he applied pressure down the edge, a segment of the wall, no larger than a dinner plate, actually rotated around its center point in a circle. “Well that’s something at least.” He whispered to himself, wiping the now dried blood from his nosebleed from his face.

Ford’s excited voice came from the watch-like device on Katee’s wrist. “Hang on, what did you do? That rotated a portion of the pattern on my side.” The scientist approached the section that had moved and examined it, finding a hairline crack extending in a perfect circle the size of a plate around the thicker lines. Curiously, he spun the section of stone clockwise and the thing rotated just inside the perimeter of the paper thin crack. He pressed his ear to the wall while he rotated it and heard the faint clicking of several gears deep inside. “Fascinating.”

“Stan spun something on our end and then it started spinning on its own again but it just stopped.” Katee relayed.

“I think that was me, Katee.” Ford said to her. “Are there any other movable parts along the wall? Look for places where the stone might have been cut to seamlessly fit smaller portions in.”

Katee took a step back and took in the whole thing, unsure of exactly what Ford meant. To her, it just looked like a whole lot of meaningless scores in the rock face. Stan sidestepped to the middle of the barrier and pushed up on a sharply curved line and it rotated along with a few other strips near it under the force he applied to it. “Hey Sixer, did you see that on your end?” He shouted.

Ford’s eyes snapped to the far end of his side of the barrier and saw a circular portion rotate, lining up its image with one of the lines outside of itself. A lightbulb lit in his brain with a small gasp and he exclaimed into his illicit portaling device, “It lines up. The puzzle is we have to spell out a message.”

Katee’s eye widened. “That makes so much sense.” She jogged up to the stone divider and began pressing along various points, revealing that much of the wall was interactable and allowing the three of them to hear the clicking of the gears inside.

Click .

One noise rang out among the rest and all three went silent as there was much mechanical movement in the ceiling, followed by the emergence of the tips of deadly iron spikes from the roof that were now slowly descending upon them.

“Uh, Ford? Do you have spikes coming from the ceiling too?” Katee cringed.

“Damn. Yes, we’ll have to be fast.” Was Ford’s response. He must have gotten to work because a circular part on their side near the ceiling was rotated half way clockwise, then a little counter clockwise. 

Stan squinted at it, the lines carved into that area hadn’t lined up with anything around it so it couldn’t be right. He prodded, “How do you know we don’t have to make a picture? Because there’s no writing anywhere in here, I looked. Unless it’s on your side. What is all over the place though is pictures.”

“ Are pictures, Stanley.” Ford corrected as the spikes emerged further. “And while there is no writing, that doesn’t mean we can’t make a phrase in the alphabet here pertaining to the theme of the room. I saw the plaque under the statue of Oracle Mateh just like you did and I memorized a portion of the characters in their language.”

The younger of the twins startled as the ceiling squealed while the deadly points came further for them and he barked to Katee, who was examining where the other walls met the roof, “Katee c’mere and convince Ford that he’s a lunatic. It’s obviously a picture of some sort, the pattern ain’t laid out evenly enough to be lettering.”

As he continued to spin various sections around, Katee called back, “I wasn’t paying attention Stan, sorry I’m trying to figure out a way to stop our impending doom.” She grabbed the spear and jammed it up into the space between a spike and the ceiling but it only snapped, doing nothing.

Stan groaned and yelled so his voice would carry to Katee’s device on the other side of the space, “How’re we supposed to solve this puzzle if you don’t even know the language? We’re gonna be dead either way, just let me do this.”

Ford’s words were distant with the area between their voices even though they were no more than a few feet apart in reality, reminding Stan of the terribly similar trick the Blind Caverns had played on him and his brother, “No, Stan when you move yours in the middle, mine moves on the left side. My left side is all lined up in what are probably some characters of the native language here.”

Stan shot as he moved a piece, “Yeah well when I move this one in the middle here, it makes an arm. A freaking arm Sixer, that ain’t a coincidence. Your ‘probably’ ain’t gonna cut it, Ford.” 

“Wait, stop moving it!” Ford cried. “You made a letter, one I recognize from earlier.” The spikes continued their journey, threatening to scrape against the side of his head any time now and make him duck to avoid injury.

“But that doesn't make sense, whatever this lizard thing it wants me to be making is, it shouldn’t have a mane like some big cat.” The first points brushed against his hair, causing him to hunch over as he shuffled down to work on the tail.

“That’s because it’s not an animal at all. I-I can see the solution in my mind, just trust me Stanley.” Ford clamored, his anxiety going from a simmer to a boil. He knew Stan wouldn’t and it made him fear for his life.

Trust me Stanley . The words echoed in the room only once but did so over and over in Stan’s head as he was on his hands and knees now to avoid being punctured. “No Ford, you ought to listen to me, I got the back end of some critter here. I swear it.”

“Wait, it’s an Axolotl! You’re both right!” Katee gasped, forced to crawl back to Stan after her failed attempt at stopping the forward march of the trap.

But it was too late, the spikes covered many of the places they still needed to line up and reaching for them would spell mutilation. The moving parts destined to bleed them out screeched as the longest ones made contact with the floor and started drilling straight through, sending sparks flying. Stan’s eyes darted around rapidly, hoping and praying to see some way out but there was nothing but earth and metal to accompany his heart drumming in his ears. No, he couldn’t die, there had to be some way out. A way out there was because a flash of sapphire blue energy suddenly tore through the wall, eating away at the thick rock like it was the consistency of soft butter. The edges burned a flaming shade of orange and Ford crawled to their side, the Quantum Destabilizer in his hands and he screamed, “Come on! I’m shooting a path forward.”

Stan and Katee didn’t need to be told twice, they scrambled on their bellies across the opening to the far side and Ford shot another dazzling beam of blue straight at the formidable doors, melting them into glass and atomizing any spikes that were unfortunate enough to get in the way. The trio pushed themselves off the floor and ran for their lives deeper into the dungeon just as the last of the iron points touched the ground and sealed them in.

Chapter Text

With his head pressed against the cool ground, Stan panted and coughed on old dust that coated the floor, wiping the stress induced sweat from his brow. “Holy Moses. That was too close.” He croaked out, his mind reeling from the fact that he had nearly just been impaled on several metal spikes Iowa Jones style.

“If we could stop escaping rooms by the skin of our teeth, that would be great.” Katee deadpanned, ending the call on her Multipurpose Portaling Device.

“Heh, so I guess you can cheese these rooms so long as you have the right firepower.” Stan half-heartedly chuckled as he lifted himself onto his knees and poked the Quantum Destabilizer in Ford’s hands as its barrel still smoked.

As if on cue, a large magnet was uncovered from a strip of ceiling above them, yanking the demon killing weapon right out of Ford’s hands, along with every other last metal item the three of them owned. Ford shot Stan an angry look as if he was the one responsible for summoning the room’s great equalizer while he stood.

“Watcha lookin’ at me for? I didn’t do that.” Stan grumbled, also standing.

“You don’t think I know that?” Ford snipped back, crossing his arms as he got a good look at their next puzzle.

The room was spacious with a high ceiling, easily the size of a football field, with most of it taken up by a sprawling maze that was on a lower level, allowing them to see the layout from above and walk right out onto the tops of the walls if they so pleased. A set of stairs led down into said maze from the small starting stony platform they stood on. An earthen control panel of some sort stood in the center of their platform, with only two large levers at it. To their left was a smaller empty room embedded into the bedrock with a single pane of glass stretching from floor to ceiling, giving them a view inside. The Axolotl led the skeletons on the walls to the far end of the room, where past the maze was another platform with a most intricately adorned sarcophagus. Beyond this, the most spectacular sight was beheld. Dual waterfalls led into the natural cavity of rock, streaming sunlight down from above to a crystal clear pond where a few hardy tropical plants had managed to grow. At the shore of this pond, just after the sarcophagus, was a great stone statue of Oracle Mateh with his Staff of Light in hand. He wisely looked out over the entire room, as if asking the trio to reach him to prove themselves worthy of his weapon.

Ford approached the levers and pulled the left one towards himself. Many segments of the maze walls shifted several feet backwards, creating countless new paths and possible solutions. When he moved the lever back to its neutral place, so did the maze. When he moved the lever forward, so did the same portions of the wall. The right lever also altered the path, just moving different parts of the walls left and right when it was pushed forwards and backwards.

Stan gave a low whistle. “Sure is pretty in here. I betcha our prize is on the other side of this maze.” He said, pointing to the coffin near the pond.

“Yeah,” Katee agreed, “and I’m decently sure the maze is unsolvable in its neutral state so we’ll need to use the levers.”

Ford stiffly nodded as he folded his hands behind his back and said seriously, “Stan, get in the maze.” 

Stan took a defensive step back. “What? No way, are you crazy? You think I’m going down there after all the stunts you’ve pulled today? I’ve tried to tell you-”

“Oh for the love of the Axolotl,” Katee snapped, “I’m sick of the bickering between you two. I’ll just go get the staff myself while you fight, we’ve been down here long enough.”

The brothers shut their mouths so quickly their teeth chattered and they gave one another a questioning yet self aware look that they knew they were guilty. Katee turned on her heel and marched past the levers and atop a maze wall, balancing with her tail and walking along the thin path to Oracle Mateh’s final resting place and the location of the Staff of Light. Then came a sound of muffled shifting metal all around them and a mechanical iron, clawed arm swung from a parting in the stony ceiling above and scooped Katee right up into the roof. A couple of seconds later, she was deposited into the glass room on the twins’ left side and the opening she had fallen through closed up, sealing her in.

“Oh, ok. We’re actually fine.” She breathed in relief as she sat upright. Something moved from above her and an opening appeared in the ceiling, pouring an unending stream of sand into the inescapable area with her. “We’re not fine, we are very much not fine. Ford, Stan, help! Finish the puzzle.” She shouted, banging on the glass with her fist.

“Stan, get in the maze.” Ford barked even more solemnly than before.

“Why me? Why does it hafta be me? I was the guinea pig last time and you almost cost me an eye. You go.” Stan retorted with some hurt in his voice, throwing his hands into the air.

“Wait, you’re actually hung up about that?” Ford questioned, taking offense in his words. He looked his twin straight in the eye and asked, “Stan, do you trust me?”

Stan frowned deeply and jabbed a finger at his twin. “Oh, says the one who practically killed us twice in this damn dungeon because he wouldn’t take me for my word. Do you trust me?”

From behind them, Katee screamed as sand was now around her ankles, “That’s great you’re working out your trauma or whatever guys, but I’m literally in the process of dying over here! Make a decision!”

“Stan, trust me.” Ford pleaded.

“Ford, trust me.” Stan begged at the same time.

The younger of the twins pinched his nose and mumbled a curse under his breath, he was probably going to regret this. “Fine, but I’m not gonna like it.” He grumbled and dashed for the stairs to the entrance of the maze, going against the anxiety that fluttered in his stomach telling him his brother was going to kill him. Katee’s life was on the line and he had no choice but to count on Ford.

The space between the high blackened walls with the texture of basalt was tight, practically squeezing his shoulders. Rough, sandy ground scraped against the soles of his shoes and the barriers surrounding him were incredibly towering now that he was down at the bases of them. He made a few right hand turns until he got to a dead end and Ford yelled out to him, “Stanley, I’m going to move the wall in front of you forwards, so to your left, I’ll count you down.”

A surge of unease came to Stan’s stomach as he saw the metal tracks on the sandy floor the barriers moved on. If this was mistimed he would get pinned between two very weighty slabs. He boomed back, “Dammit Ford, you better not freakin’ crush me.”

“I won’t Stanley, I won’t hurt you.” His hand curled around the lever and counted off, “Go on three. One, two, three.” He moved the lever away from himself and the blocked path opened and surged to his left, as did he. Mechanical parts shuddered and groaned much more noisily than he would have liked around him as the entire puzzle shifted but he made it through alive and unharmed.

“Holy mackerel, we did it.” Stan gasped, patting himself down and checking for signs of injury and finding none.

“Stanley!” Ford bellowed, “Make a left turn, then go straight past the next left, followed by three rights. Then I’ll have to move the entire thing to the left, which is backwards to you.”

Stan was really wishing someone had thought to have Katee let him borrow her portaling thingamajig right about now. Not having to scream at the top of his lungs to communicate with his brother would have been great just then. “Got it. I think.” He shouted and made a left turn.

“No Stan, not down that one. Pass that path, then take three rights.” Ford cried.

Stan was tempted to tell Ford he could see a clear path forward from where he was at but he thought better of it, now he needed to believe his twin’s word and as much as he hated it, let his own life hang in the balance because of it. So he backed up and went on, taking a left turn and then three rights. Just like before, Ford counted him down and as immense rectangles of rock moved all around him, he made the dash backwards and was greeted by completely new surroundings. 

Okay, maybe this isn’t too bad. I haven’t been decapitated yet. Stan thought, following his new instructions given to him by Ford.

Forwards, backwards, left, and right he went at his twin’s command, working in sync with him to make the right moves and keep himself and ultimately Katee safe. As time went on, they fell into a rhythm and picked up their pace, making it ever closer to Oracle Mateh’s coffin and the supposed location of the Staff of Light. Levers were pulled and the occasional close call was to be had, with Stan ripping the cuff of his pant leg after one rather mistimed lunge to the right. But after nearly ten minutes of an adrenaline fueled, nightmarish trust exercise, Stan finally made it up the stairs and practically kissed the stony floor out of joy.

But now wasn’t the time for victory, if their collective hunch was correct, the Staff of Light was in the sarcophagus just in front of him and gaining it would hopefully solve the puzzle. So he raced for the coffin, taking no time to awe at the beauty of the painting of the majestic Oracle Mateh as he was in life atop the lid and instead grabbed ahold of the two handles at his feet. Actually remembering to lift with his legs instead of his back gave him much more strength and leverage over the clay top but it barely budged, even after he put his back into it too. Was there maybe something he was missing? Stan’s eyes darted around in a frenzy and landed on the handles that were at the head end of the coffin too, followed by a set of levers on his side.

“Shit.” He mumbled, running to the console and waving to get Ford’s attention. “Ford, Ford you need to get in the maze. I can’t lift this on my own.” Stan boomed, cupping his hands to his mouth.

Ford’s head snapped to Katee, who was now dealing with chest deep sand with a shrinking air supply. “I’ll be back Katee, I promise.” He told her sincerely and jumped down into the maze.

“You better.” She shrieked. “If not, I’ll haunt you.”

The maze had become rather jumbled after he had rearranged it so many times and it appeared completely different to the one Stan had crossed. “Stanley, where do I go?” He asked, feeling his voice beginning to strain as he shouted.

Stan squinted to see across the puzzle and had to rotate it in his mind to see it from Ford’s perspective in order to give him the correct directions, making his head hurt. A disquieting feeling nagged at him, telling him he wasn’t qualified for this. But nevermind that now, he had a job to do regardless of his confidence. From his perspective, Ford needed to go right, which would be his brother’s left. Then after he hit a dead end, he’d have to move the wall towards himself, or to Ford’s right. “Uh, ok Sixer go to your left till you hit a wall. Then you’ll hafta jump to the right when I move everything.”

Ford had to bite back the urge to yell, asking his brother if he was actually certain about that. Instead he relayed, “Copy that,” and followed his instructions. Being on the other end of this wasn’t a pleasant experience for him and it made him feel just a little queasy knowing one wrong move would at least seriously injure him. But Katee’s life was hanging in the balance and if he got Stan through, why couldn’t the reverse also be true?

After jogging the length of the path, he came to the dead end and heard Stan exclaim, “Awright Ford, are ya ready? When I say go, run like hell.”

Stan gripped the lever with sweaty palms and he noticed Ford shout back, “Ready, Stanley.”

The disquieting feeling rose to a screaming anxiety and as Stan screamed, “Go!” he had to battle against the shaking in his legs and the trembling of his fingers to move the lever. He closed his eyes; he couldn’t bear to watch.

The entire world appeared to shift as if an earthquake had rippled through the dungeon as the wall to his right shot forward as the barrier to his left dashed to close the new space. But Ford’s rolling lunge was quicker and he made it just in time to avoid being slammed from behind and sustaining injury by the moving maze. Dusting himself off, relief flooded his veins and brought a smile to his face. He had survived.

Well that’s one down. He thought gratefully. Stan hadn’t killed him, not yet at least. He really wasn’t optimistic about getting through here alive after everything else he had seen Stan do today but he didn’t have the time to be upset about it considering their current circumstances.

“I’m through, Stan.” He called out to his twin.

Ford’s words were angelic in Stan’s ears and his eyes opened widely as he relaxed a fraction. He felt a laugh come to his throat and he boomed, “Haha, yes! I knew you’d make it.” Stan knew full well he was lying but it felt good to say it anyways.

Just as before, the brothers took the obstacle one step at a time, yelling back and forth at each new impasse to make sure both were on the same page before Stan proceeded with changing up the puzzle. Bit by bit and step by step, after much disorienting maze shifting and one tense moment where Stan pulled the lever the wrong way, causing Ford to jump backwards at the last second to avoid being crushed, the man made his way through the maze. He darted up the steps and his twin met him at the top, grinning from ear to ear. 

Stan really wanted to come up with something funny or clever to say to his sibling when they reunited but unfortunately there was no time to waste thinking up a pun, Katee needed them. So all he said ended up being, “C’mon, the coffin’s over here,” and led him to the jeweled sarcophagus.

Stan took the handles at the foot of the thing while Ford had the head. Even with their strength combined the lid was hefty and was slow to move, with the two of them heaving for breath by the end. With one final push, the top of the sarcophagus rumbled the ground around them while it fell heavily to the floor and disturbed a thick layer of dirt and dust into a cloud inside the casket. After the air had cleared, the brothers looked inside and discovered the skeletal remains of a long dead peafowl clothed in a hooded white and pink robe with twelve bells tied around his waist on a pink sash, gripping a black segmented and rune inscribed staff in his hands. The weapon hummed with lively energy at their arrival, as if it was analyzing their very hearts and judging them worthy to wield it. 

“That’s the Staff of Light? I thought it’d look more impressive.” Stan snorted, reaching for the thing.

“Let’s just get it and rescue Katee.” Ford responded nervously, peering at the practically sand filled room at the other end of the chamber.

A slit in the ceiling opened with a groan and the same mechanical hand that came for Katee swung down and headed straight for Stan. Ford saw it all as if he was watching in slow motion while the iron claws made an arc through the air to snatch up his brother. Fueled by the intensity of the moment, the scientist leapt around the corner of the clay coffin and shoved his brother out of the way, exclaiming, “Stan, look out.”

Stan hit the hard floor stomach first, sure to gain a few bruises in the future, and spun around just in time to see a panicked Ford being lifted into the air and swallowed up into the ceiling by a gigantic metal hand. “Aw shit,” he muttered as he scrambled to his feet. He knew what that iron mitt did and where it took people he wasn’t going to let both his companions suffocate today. 

“I’ll be takin’ that, buddy.” He said as he yanked the Staff of Light straight from Oracle Mateh’s dusty bones. 

Immediately his eyes went to the sandy room on the other side and a sticky dread coated the back of his throat when he saw that sand was still pouring in. Stan didn’t know what he had been expecting to happen when he picked up the magical artifact, maybe something magical and glowy, he wasn’t sure. At least he wanted the death trap to stop. The darn thing had been vibrating when he laid his eyes on it so he figured something dramatic would go on once it was in the hands of a living person. But to his displeasure, the Staff of Light went dead in his hands, like it was just a regular old stick. He tapped it against his open palm a few times, held it out in front of him, and even swung it but nothing changed.

“Ok wise guy, now what?” He desperately asked the statue of Oracle Mateh.

The noisy sound of stone grating against stone hit his ears and he whirled around to see two vast stone slabs moving out across the maze to cover the top, giving him a way to run back to the start and more importantly, to Katee and Ford. “Hey, thanks pal.” He said to the statue over his shoulder as he sprinted across.

The darkness gave way to nothing but sand when the floor, or more accurately, the ceiling opened and Ford was dropped into the same room as Katee. The dino crawled for the opening but with only a foot of room left she wasn’t quick enough and both were trapped inside before she could make her escape. With two people trapped now, the rate at which the sand came appeared to increase and the noise of millions of tiny grains sliding over one another was like a hymn of death to them.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m going to haunt you.” She hissed with a scowl.

“I told you I’d be back and now I’m back.” Ford shot, kicking at the glass pane keeping them in. “Besides, if you’re dying then I’m dying and ghosts are unable to haunt one another.”

Katee rolled her eye and scooted over with some difficulty to help him out with their escape. There was so much sand in the room now that they were pressed against the ceiling and starting to sink into it. Moving was like trying to swim in molasses and the dino knew their time was very limited. As the larger space around them suddenly began to rumble, she asked, “So what happened anyways?”

The dwindled air supply made it hard to breathe as the rocky grains were now brushing against his cheeks and he grunted, “The claw came for- Stanley!” 

Just outside what was soon to become their tomb, a winded Stan appeared with the staff in hand. “Hang on, I’ll get you guys outta there.” He cried, giving the glass a good whack and cracking it. The next hit sent even more breaks spider webbing up the pane and a few small streams of sand began to pour from the weakest parts. Once that happened, the whole wall gave in and Stan realized just in time that he should probably run like hell if he didn’t want to get swallowed up in a tsunami of sand. Katee and Ford came spilling out with the rest of the wave and at last, the flow of the grains stopped and all three were safe. At the other end of the room, past the waterfalls and the pond, a hidden door opened and revealed a set of stairs leading upwards and presumably back to the surface.

Ford hoisted himself free and roughly ran his fingers through his hair, dispelling many of the sandy particles from his head. Then he slid down the side of the mound of sand and stopped right next to his twin, incredibly relieved that he was no longer in danger. 

Stan’s face was stony but the shakiness in his voice and the way he tightly held onto the staff betrayed his expression and told Ford how he was feeling. “Ford, ya saved me.”

“Yes,” Ford responded tiredly, sitting on the cool floor with his hands in his lap while he hoped the worst was behind them, “and you saved me. And got the staff.” 

“Oh ya mean this old thing? Yeah, it was no big deal.” He chuckled, handing the weapon to Ford. Stan was immensely relieved that all was now quiet and his brother was out of harm's way. Preferably that meant they could finally leave this cold and wet cavity in the earth and celebrate with some more delicious food.

The scientist examined the relic and knew from Mabel’s dagger that runed weapons were sentient in a sense, but the way this object was acting made it feel completely lifeless, much the way the knife was in his hands. Ford sighed, he had hoped that the staff would have at least recognized he was holding it but he had no such luck since he and Axolotl magic just seemed to disagree with one another. For being named the Staff of Light, it appeared rather dark.

“Did it light up for you?” Ford asked his twin, handing him the weapon.

Stan shoved it back to his brother. “Nah, but you can keep it. It’s much more your style than mine.”

The scientist didn’t protest but he wasn’t exactly joyous about it either. He should’ve known it wasn’t going to work out even though he had hoped against the odds for their own sake. It hadn’t paid off. Maybe Stan did something he wasn’t supposed to and that was why it wasn’t working, an old bitter part of his mind whispered. While that reasoning has at least a little ground to stand on considering how recklessly Stan had been today, he knew he didn’t want it to be true. It couldn’t be true, that was just the old him, the one that had Bill’s hand wrapped around his finger. Even thinking such a thing in the first place made his stomach squirm uncomfortably. But yet, why did his head consider it to be a valid possibility in the first place? 

Stan saw the way Ford deeply frowned at the Staff of Light and heard a voice in the back of his head cry out in a hushed tone that maybe his brother didn’t know what he was talking about. Because it seemed like the magical artifact whose whole schtick was being bright was doing a whole bunch of nothing instead. So maybe it was crazy, all of it. He had willingly followed him across the stars, eager to use the opportunity to bash Bill’s angle and come closer to his brother in the process, but they had hit roadblock after roadblock, only making progress by sheer dumb luck. Just like he had pondered in the prison, he wondered if believing in his twin was actually something worth pursuing. Would they ever make it through the Blind Caverns alive at this rate?

Katee dusted herself off as well as she was able and hopped down from the mountain of sand near the twins. She exhaled in a frustrated manner and then sharply inhaled, snapping, “Ya know if you two cooperated some more, maybe you wouldn’t end up in situations where you have to save each other.” She shook her head and continued, “Like seriously, I almost died multiple times today. Yeah it was partially my fault but geez, things could’ve gone a lot better too if you would’ve listened to each other. Because maybe-” A pained expression came to her and she dictated, in equal parts to herself and the twins, “maybe I should try listening too. To Jess. Maybe I need to slow down and chill out and actually just train a while. She did warn me not to go to the Blind Caverns, or-or to go with you on your adventures. I see why now, you two are so dysfunctional. I-I don’t know what’s up but you could use some serious talking to one another.” With a grumble, she ran a clawed hand down her face and began walking across the space where the maze had once been and headed for the stairs leading back up. “I’ll be waiting back in the temple.”

The twins watched her retreating back with their jaws dropped and shared a look of disbelief. Stan rubbed the back of his neck and winced, “Yeesh, she’s usually so chipper.” 

Ford sighed and rubbed his eyes, “Stan, I think she’s right.”

Stan attempted to dodge the statement by innocently asking, “About listening to the Oracle? I mean, isn’t she like her boss?”

“No. About us.” He said quietly, gazing up at him with an expectant sort of look.

Stan bit his lip and sucked in air through his teeth. So Ford had decided he wanted to have a Big Talk with him, capital letters and all, and he wasn’t so sure how he felt about it. There had been enough pain already today, not to mention they had just completed a death trap filled dungeon and should have been celebrating their victory and possession of the Staff of Light. All Stan wanted now was a nap and some good food, not a heart to heart. Because they tended to suck and people got hurt. He was done hurting.

“Aw, c’mon Ford, really? Let’s go rub our victory in that stuck up bird’s face upstairs.” He tried, gesturing for his twin to get up.

But Ford didn’t get up. He knew Katee was right, she had pointed out what should have been so obvious the entire time. He had withheld trust from many people for a very long time, some for the right reasons and some for the wrong reasons. Stan was one of those people and now he was realizing it was for a less than ideal reason. As he searched within himself, he found a guarded spot in his heart, walled off as a form of protection. That was where his hesitancy to have faith in his brother had come from, that part of him that feared being hurt by someone else.

The old scientist shook his head slowly. He didn’t want to have this conversation and it was obvious Stan didn’t either by his attempt to change the subject. “No Stan, I can’t go. You saw the way we acted today, you know there’s something going on between us.”

Stan sat next to him with a heavy sigh and hunched his shoulders. “And I take it you’re about to tell me?” He questioned with a little apprehension in his voice.

“Well that’s just the thing, we have our squabbles every now and again but today was, well, like Katee put it, dysfunctional.” Ford mumbled, resting the side of his head against the staff.

Stan nodded a miniscule amount, agreeing with his brother. He looked at the ancient artifact in Ford’s hands and thought back on the immense headache it had been to get it, all because Ford hadn’t listened to him. 

Or you to Ford. A voice that he couldn’t argue with told him in his head.

“I guess you could say that.” He laughed emptily as he internally groaned. So they were having a heart to heart now, great. So if they were going to get all mushy and crap, he figured it would probably be best to start over from where his problem had started. “Ford it’s just, sometimes I feel like I’m getting to know you all over again. Ya just take me by surprise at the worst times and do insane things like almost lose me an eye to lunatic cultists.”

Ford frowned at this, remembering what his brother had told him only half an hour ago. I was the guinea pig last time and you almost cost me an eye, he had said. It seemed absurd to him that Stan could’ve gotten hurt by that, he would have never let any harm really come to him. But sensing that telling Stan that wasn’t going to solve any problems, he said instead, “I would’ve had your back.” 

“If I felt that way it wouldn’t be an issue.” Stan told him, crossing his arms.

His head fell and he avoided his brother’s gaze as he quietly asked the big question that had been on his mind since yesterday, “Stan, be honest. Do you trust me?”

Stan blinked. “What kinda stupid question is-”

“I mean really, truly trust me? With your life?” Ford pressed further, his eyes coming back to his twin. He wasn’t entirely sure where his insistence to sit Stan down and have a serious talk was coming from but he felt as though if he didn’t do it now, his own conscience was going to make him explode. 

The underlying unease Stan had been carrying around with him for the last two days decided now would be a good time to become loud again. He knew the answer to this question well, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Hell, he didn’t even have enough faith in his brother to truthfully respond. Admitting to something such as that gave Ford just the ammunition he needed to blow up at him, to decide he didn’t like him enough anymore and leave him behind, and to hurt him. Huh, wait a minute. Stan’s brows drew together with realization in the expansive silence as Ford painstakingly waited for a response. 

Very slowly, Stan broke eye contact and responded in a hushed tone, “If I really trust ya Ford then, well then that means you can hurt me. Maybe some part of me thinks you could betray me somehow, I dunno. It’s stupid.” He drew his lips tightly together and felt himself stiffen as he mentally braced for the anger that he knew was coming. 

Ford blinked owlishly, Stan’s words drilling all the way to his core. He cooed, “No it’s- it’s not stupid, Lee. Because I-I think deep down I feel the same way.” Saying that out loud felt like chugging molten glass to Ford but he knew it needed to be said. If his brother had just admitted that he had feelings he was experiencing too then surely no judgement would come upon him and that gave him the courage he needed to put his heart upon his sleeve, as excruciating as it was.

“Huh?” Stan said in surprise, his gaze snapping back to Ford.

The scientist bit the inside of his lip anxiously but continued, “Well trust requires vulnerability right? Being vulnerable means you’re open to being attacked, ridiculed, judged, and so on. It stands to reason that trusting no one would be the solution then, correct? But that’s far from the truth.”

Stan stewed over Ford’s wisdom and responded with some of his own. He slowly nodded, getting at what his twin was trying to say. “Yeah, cuz how’re we supposed to be brothers if we don’t even trust each other?” He huffed, suddenly feeling very disappointed in himself. Now with his new perspective, his previous fear felt detached and unimportant. Because after all the inner turmoil he had been experiencing the last few days, it turned out Ford was going through the same thing. 

Ford nodded, agreeing with his twin. “I wanted to handle everything on my own at the cultist temple and became upset when you tried bargaining for your safety too. I inflicted pain upon you in doing so and for that, I apologize. Then I made it worse by letting my mistrust get in the way in this dungeon and dismissing your input, even if it was sometimes faulty.”

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose and said, “I guess we should’ve talked it through more, sorry,” even though it made him feel like he was rubbing coarse sandpaper against his bare skin.

“I appreciate that.” He smirked, letting some of his baseline playfulness come back to him. So all they had between them was the fear of being harmed by the other when in reality, that fright was what was damaging them in the first place. He thought back to the spats they had gotten into in the second dungeon trial and how he had allowed himself to get offended at Stan demanding an apology to something he didn’t believe needed one and sighed. So much unneeded tension and heart ache had permeated them when it would not have happened if they had simply had faith in one another. “Stan, I’m sorry for fighting you today. I see now that our bickering was rooted in something deeper.”

“Heh, you’re right. Well that’s just us I suppose, being too busy with our own butthurt selves when really we should help each other...” He trailed off and furrowed his brows in thought. When he spoke again, it was low and cautious but optimistic as well, “But maybe it doesn’t have to be that way.”

“Like when we were children.” Ford said while he relished the past, thinking back to their days when they always had one another’s backs. Whether it was Stan standing up to his bullies, him helping his brother through school, or sharing the blame equally when pa was upset for something one of them had done, they had always been there for one another. He thought back to the summer they had spent grounded together after their discovery of the Jersey Devil and a nostalgic smile came to his eyes.

It seemed like Stan was on the same page because his uncertain expression brightened to that of a grin and he said, “Yeah exactly like that.”

But then Ford’s face fell and he felt he needed to clarify, “Stan, I hope you realize I’d never hurt you. I know that’s a sore spot for you, but I-I’m trying my best now to be the person you need.”

Stan punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Yeah uh, same to you, Sixer. An’ it’s not like I haven’t made my fair share of crummy decisions that had consequences roll over to you either.”

Ford smiled somberly. “So it’s both our faults then.”

“Heh, yeah. But we know we got each other’s backs and we know we’re lookin’ out for one another. So we’re good now, right?” Stan prodded optimistically. 

The scientist’s sad smile turned to a cautiously cheerful one. “Yes, we’re good.” He said happily and held out his hand for Stan to shake.

Stan grabbed Ford’s hand and then pulled a fast one on him and yanked him into a hug. His brother yelped in surprise but quickly returned the embrace, a grin in his eyes. The background hum of emotional unease that had permeated both of them the past two days evaporated like mist in the noon sun as they connected back with one another. But then the most peculiar thing happened, the Staff of Light began to glow proudly with white radiance at its segments while Ford held onto it.

“Huh, what the?” Stan questioned, ending the hug with his twin to get a better look at what was happening. “That’s weird, it hasn’t done anything until just now.”

Ford was grinning from ear to ear with a sparkle in his eye as his gaze trailed down the length of the artifact, observing it like it was as sacred to him as it was to Paladin Thaem. “It’s- it’s working!” He exclaimed in bewilderment as he stood. After all this time, he thought he was just incredibly unfortunate or somehow cursed without the ability to use Axolotl magic. But here was a weapon used by an oracle glowing in his hand and he was simply overjoyed to be witnessing it.

But just as swiftly as it had come, the glow of the staff subsided and Ford’s expression fell to that of confusion. “Wait- what happened? Why’d it stop?” He ran his fingers along the runes, hoping something would come of it but nothing did. Just as he was about to resign himself to glumness though, he felt the ever so slight vibrating of the weapon in his hands, telling him it was still there with him. His brows raised with intrigue when in the specific frequency the artifact hummed at, it relayed an emotion to him. It was proud.

The younger of the twins dusted his pants off as he stood and gestured over his shoulder with his thumb, saying, “The chick upstairs probably knows. C’mon, let’s go.” 

“Hang on a moment Stanley, I want to rid my shoes of sand first. Here, hold this for me and let me know if you feel anything.” The scientist informed him, handing him the Staff of Light.

As Ford dumped the thousands of miniscule particles from his left boot, Stan was left to wonder just exactly what Ford had meant when he felt it. The staff was vibrating ever so slightly, to the point where if he wasn’t focusing on it he probably wouldn’t have noticed it. It felt like there were a hundred little bees humming away inside the artifact. “What the…? Sixer, it’s hummin’ like a refrigerator.”

“Isn’t it the most peculiar thing?” He awed while he shook the last of the sand from his right boot.

The con man swung the staff and twirled it slowly in his hands as his brother retied his shoes but it remained unlit, only vibrating. “Well it’s better than the whole lotta nothin’ it was doin’ before.” Stan brought the tip of the staff down to meet the floor in front of him with some force, as if he was some ancient martial artist master looking out across the horizon. When he did so, the weapon flashed with a flare of celestial light at its six segments along the shaft. “Oh Moses, that’s bright.” He exclaimed, squinting his eyes.

Ford eagerly took the artifact into his own hands. “What’d you do?” His head had been down when Stan activated the staff so he hadn’t gotten to really see whatever he had done.

Stan rubbed his eyes and relayed, “I jus’ hit it against the ground and it freakin’ flashbanged me.”

The scientist curiously tapped the artifact against the floor in a gentle manner but nothing happened. He tried again, this time with some strength behind his movement and his vision was filled with white. Blinking away the magically generated photons from his now watering eyes, he stated, “You weren’t exaggerating.”

They met Katee at the steps and she looked at them with a dangerously neutral expression, one that Ford had unfortunately learned from experience that meant she was still fuming, but at least she seemed to have calmed down considerably. His head started reeling with something to say to her but luckily, Stan beat him there.

“Before you ask, yeah we worked it out.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and continued, “An’ uh, I’m glad you’re okay. Also sorry, I guess, for bein’ dysfuntio- dsyfu- difficult today,” and then elbowed Ford in the ribs.

The space behind Katee’s eyes softened and she explained to Stan evenly, “If it’s your time to join Mictlan, you go. But if not, the Axolotl can always bring you back from the brink. You’re lucky I was in His good graces today.”

Ford took his brother’s signal to speak and cleared his throat before adding, “Yes Katee, we’re happy to see you all in one piece. Unfortunately the danger you endured is partially our fault. For that, I’m sorry.”

The dino grinned toothily at them and responded, “Well I should’ve stayed more level headed so I guess I’m sorry too. But it’s nice to hear you’ve solved whatever issue you two had, so I’m happy and all is forgiven.” She nodded towards the stairs and said, “Should we go up?”

They did.

The stone steps led to the other side of the great rocky plateau the temple was located inside of and looked out over miles of jungle several stories up from the forest floor. Only a small path wide enough for two people to pass by on either side of each other had been carved into the tan rock pillar and the trio followed it around the perimeter of the natural tower until they had arrived back in the main room of the temple. Their items, which had been magnetically pulled away in the final puzzle room, were waiting for them at the table on the right side of the room. Each dashed for their belongings, with Katee reclaiming her bells, Ford reholstering his blaster and attaching the Quantum Destabilizer to his pack, and Stan with his bells, knuckle dusters, Mabel’s crossbow, and the chained stone tablet.

“You kept one?” Ford inquired, pointing to the runed and gemmed artifact used in necromancy.

“Yea as a souvenir. I’m gonna give it to Soos.” Stan shrugged.

“Well color me surprised, you actually did it.” Paladin Thaem stated, fluidly sauntering up to them with her tail feathers puffed out and acting as her backdrop.

“Whadda ya mean? Of course we did it.” Stan grunted back. 

Thaem stiffly nodded, “Yes well, use it well. The Staff of Light is noble at heart and it knows yours.”

“Thank you Thaem, we’ll take good care of it.” Ford responded. He opened up his journal and crossed out something on a short list on the page. “That’s protection against the eyes, a map of the caverns, and the location of a way to protect our perishables that we have now.” He brought the end of his pen to his face and tapped it against his jaw in thought.

“Now we jus’ need something to take care of those freaky hands that come out of the walls. Preferably somethin’ that’ll let ya punch ‘em away.” Stan shuddered, trying not to remember the hundreds of grasping paws that had tried to pull him down into a shimmering pond and drown him in the Blind Caverns.

“Those things were just the worst.” Katee agreed with a little unease leaking into her voice.

A tiny gasp escaped Thaem’s beak and she looked Stan dead in the eyes and divulged, “That sounds just like the gauntlets Oracle Miquiztli wore. His signature weapon was a pair of gauntlets that he said could punch away anything. He was a good friend of Oracle Mateh but I fell out of touch with him at least forty years ago. His last known whereabouts was in his home of Dimension 2613-B.”

Stan excitedly nudged Ford with his elbow. “So that probably includes eldritch grasping hands, right?”

“I say let’s give it a shot.” The older of the twins grinned and made a step towards the exit. “Thank you for everything, Paladin Thaem. We owe you a great debt.”

The holy woman bowed her head. “Apparently the pleasure has been all mine all along. Stay safe.”

He briefly waved to Katee as he continued to the bamboo stairs leading to the plaza. “It was nice to see you again, Katee. Good luck with your endeavors here and we’ll stay in touch.” 

Stan shot two finger guns at the peacock. “See ya around.” Then he did the same for the Dilophosaurus and told her, “Stay outta trouble kiddo.”

The dino snorted and amusedly rolled her eye but returned Ford’s wave with her right hand. “See ya when I see you. Good luck to you too.”

As the two human twins descended the stairs, laughing about something she couldn’t make out, Katee smiled and asked Thaem, “Well shall we get back to my training then?”

The avian looked at her in mild but pleasant surprise. “Yes we shall.” 

“Good, I’m content to not rush this anymore.” She responded and grabbed a hold of a javelin behind her back. She had been running faster than she really should’ve been for a while so she would take this at just the speed she needed.

Chapter Text

Early Sunday morning light beamed into the kitchen from the menorah filled window and hit the silver steam billowing out of a ceramic cauldron on the stovetop, its runes glowing blue like the deep ocean. Ever since he had been caught off guard and lacking useful potions during the last two days of a rat debacle, Dipper was determined to brew up enough to be prepared for basically anything. Well, with what ingredients he had on hand anyways. The brew he was cooking up with the sunrise was a Water Walk Potion and it did just as the name suggested, and for a five minute time span too. Having just about enough siren scales, thirty six to be exact, to fill two vials, he dropped them into the low boiling liquid two at a time while being careful not to let a single drop of backsplash escape since doing so would ruin the elixir.

Mabel sped down the stairs so quickly while trying to put her handbell away, she tripped over her own feet and didn’t catch the banister in time to avoid a fall. Luckily for her though, she had recharged her bell that morning before setting aside the last half an hour for practicing the Prophecy Spell and while she hit the floor with a crash that knocked over the coat rack, the rosy energy of the Axolotl’s magic shielded her from any bruises. 

“I’m fine.” She said to no one in particular.

Mabel tried not to think about how she was still seemingly no closer to cracking the code to casting that final spell correctly as she bounced right back up to her feet and jogged into the kitchen. Nor was she thinking about what unfortunate event could possibly happen to them next, nope, not at all. Not one bit.

“C’mon Dipper, hurry up with your witchy business or we’re gonna be late. We said we’d be there at 8 A.M. sharp when they open.” Mabel chirped, grabbing several vials and cork stoppers from the countertop and shoving them into his hands. A newfound energy had entered her body today, one that was determined to keep her in a good mood since she knew in her heart that she had been too sad for too long now. It felt like a second wind, another chance, and a last hurrah to fight against all her anxieties and remain hopeful that all would end well, Bill Cipher be damned. She had a new strategy; if she could just remain joyous then maybe that’d be enough.

Dipper gingerly set the glasses down and turned the burner onto the highest setting. “Hang on, I’m almost done. It just needs to go to a full boil for thirty six seconds and then I can cut the heat and bottle it.”

A heavy sigh left the girl’s lips as she sat droopily at the table and sprawled her limbs out as far as she could in the seat. “I can’t wait that long.”

Dipper smirked, “I’m pretty sure you can.”

Mabel sank lower in her chair and dramatically brought the back of her hand to her forehead. “No, I’m withering away. What a world, what a world.” She slid onto the floor and laid there as if dead.

With a chuckle, the young man cut the heat to the burner and poured a ladleful of the liquid into two of the glasses and stored them on his leather belt, right next to the Misty Potion and extra Restoration Potion from yesterday. With four phials lined up, three full of glittering blue liquid and one with glowing green, his accessory was looking much fuller than before and actually looked pretty cool if he did say so himself. Hands to his hips, he inspected his belt proudly, the action pulling his sleeve up enough so his rat bite scar was visible on his wrist.

“This thing is pretty sweet.” He smiled at his gift.

“Yeah that’s why I made it for you.” The sweater wearing girl, today’s pattern a spinning dreidel with a green background, said to him while she tossed him his coat.

Her brother caught it in one arm and put it on but as he did so, the remaining liquid within the cauldron abruptly exploded and splashed all over him, the walls, floor, ceiling, Mabel, and even out into the foyer. It looked like the kitchen had been coated in a thin layer of blue slime by a very persistent army of snails. Mabel laughed as she took a photo of her bro dripping wet with his mouth agape, completely caught off guard by the magical outburst.

“Oh shoot, I forgot it does that if you don’t dump it out.” Dipper winced, running back to check on the cauldron. It seemed perfectly fine and as the brew in the room rapidly evaporated and left no trace of itself behind, he finally shrugged and decided the situation was actually fine.  

“Why is it so salty?” Mabel inquired, licking her lips. 

“Because it smells like the ocean?” He guessed as he slipped on his boots.

The older of the twins pocketed her photograph and said, “Ok but for real, we’re gonna be late. Pacifica’s going to be waiting for us.”

Dipper sighed with his hands in his pockets, “I know, I know. Is Soos coming?”

“Oh good idea, let’s go ask.” She chirped, locking elbows with her twin and walking them both into the gift shop where the lights had yet to be replaced. The same went for the kitchen, living room, and her brother’s room too, they were completely without power and so Dipper had used a lighter to ignite the gas burner that morning.

“Hey Soos, do you wanna come to Greasy’s with us?” Mabel called as she walked into the giftshop that was being lit only by the natural light from the windows, feeling the chill touch of the unheated air in the room. Unfortunately the heating system to the gift shop, Dipper’s bedroom, and the hallway outside it had all been damaged the day before. Hence, Dipper had been forced to sleep on the couch last night.

Not being able to look away from where he was elbows deep into the wall with an assortment of stray wires poking out and wrapping around his arms, Soos replied, “I’d love to doodette but I gotta finish fixing the wiring in the gift shop pronto if we’re gonna snag the tourists on winter break.”

Feeling a little let down, Mabel silently sighed and replied, “Oh, well Dipper and I are going to Greasy’s then.”

Some sparks flew and the ends of the tassel on Soos’s fez poofed up with static electricity. He yelped in alarm and when he saw that he was uninjured he added, “Do you think you could bring me back a coffee omelet then? I dunno what that secret ingredient is but man does it taste good.”

“Sure thing man. Just don’t hurt yourself when we’re away.” Dipper said and opened the gift shop door to the brisk temperature outside.

Most of the snow from last week had melted away, leaving the front car park a muddy mess of soft ground, old tire tracks, and a few stubbornly remaining piles of slush. Dipper eyed Stan’s car sitting pristinely around the side of the house longingly, partially because he wished he could’ve just driven himself and Mabel to Greasy’s and partially from the dull stab of yearning for Grunkle Stan in his chest. He wondered what they were up to and if they were alright.

“Hey Mabel,” he began as they set off down the wet dirt road, “what do you think Grunkle Stan and Ford are doing right now?”

Mabel brought her gaze up to the clear sky, debating whether or not she should respond with a joke or a genuine answer. Ultimately she decided their situation called for the latter so she said with enthusiastic energy in her voice, “Something awesome probably, or really boring. That’s how it usually went in the Multiverse.”

“Do you think we should be worried for them?” He asked with concern, his eyes searching hers’ for an answer.

Dang it, why did Dipper have to unintentionally attempt to break down the good mood she had built up? She sighed, avoided his gaze, and then forced herself to smile. “I wouldn’t be, Dip. They can probably handle themselves but never say never. The Multiverse can still catch Grunkle Ford by surprise from time to time.”

“But-but you guys were usually okay, right? Not in harm’s way?” Dipper pressed.

“Yeah usually.” She stated, jumping over a small puddle in her way. When she saw that her answer didn’t seem to calm her twin’s anxieties she continued, “Dipper, we know our grunkles are the amazingest in the whole world. They’re doing great, I just know it.” In reality, she had no idea how her grunkles were doing and it frightened her greatly. But she forcefully shoved it aside, not wanting to feel down in any capacity. There had been too much of that recently and if she received any more, she may just explode.

What Dipper said next was so quiet she could hardly hear it. “Well yeah, it’s just, do you think they’ve reached Bill yet?”

In spite of her cheery exterior, something deep within Mabel made her take his hand for comfort and to her surprise, she relished in what support he was providing and mentally devoured the little warmth it gave like a starving, feral animal. Suddenly uneasy, she shook her head and answered, “I don’t know bro-bro. I don’t know.”

“That’s a lot of not knowing. How do you feel about it?” He asked.

“I’m sick of it.” She replied in a downcast tone, thinking vaguely about everything going on in her life as the dam she had built up in her mind cracked just a little and let a trickle of water through. Mabel gestured frustratedly in front of her and cried, “Gah, I need to know what’s going to happen.” 

Dipper’s eyes wandered to the trees. “Yeah, I feel that.”

She clenched her jaw and then said, “I’m tired of missing people, Dipper. There’s been too much of that.” Wait, no she couldn’t be telling him this. But yet she did and it had lightened the aching within her just a tiny bit.

“It would be nice if this could all be over with and done for.” He added softly.

“Yeah.” Mabel nodded sadly, feeling an immense heaviness in her chest, as if she had swallowed an anvil. She was tired of it all, she realized. The fighting and the protecting, being the strong one that faced danger. It manifested painfully in between her shoulder blades and in her jaw now for in the frigid December air, the soreness in her muscles was made known. She wanted Grunkle Ford and Grunkle Stan back so they could be a happy family while she was a regular old teenager that didn’t have to worry about upholding a prophecy spoken by the oracle of a god. Mabel understood why they had to leave but it hurt. It hurt because she was all alone in her battle, a battle she felt she was failing further at every day, given to her by the Axolotl.

But no, she wasn’t going to think about that any more because she had to be happy. That would make it all better if she could brute force her way out of her struggles by the power of positivity alone so she put on her best grin and put a little more pep in her step to throw Dipper off her scent. The last thing she wanted was for him to be worried about her.

They continued the rest of their walk to Greasy’s Diner in silence, each stewing over their own thoughts and knowing their twin was doing the same. Dipper took notice of his sister’s abrupt changes in expression and suddenly was concerned for her. He knew she could seamlessly put on a cheerful mask to hide any pain she was secretly in on the inside and now he feared she was doing just that. Should he pry her about it? Maybe, but Mabel also tended to go to someone she trusted and explain what was making her upset when she felt comfortable to, so perhaps he should just wait. But if there was something she wasn’t telling him, wouldn’t it be best to try to coax it out of her? Then again, even pointing out that he had noticed she was upset could make her clam shut even tighter if it was a big deal to her and that was the last thing he wanted to have happen. Anxiousness simmered in his stomach as he overthought, for he was unsure of what to do. This never would’ve happened to him with the old Mabel, the one with rosy cheeks and full of innocence, not knowing the horrors of other dimensions. It made him unhappy, feeling lost on how to best comfort his own twin.

The parking lot of the train car restaurant that came into view was full with the Sunday morning regulars and the two walked up the unsanded and splintery front steps. Dipper grabbed the worn doorknob and opened the door for his sister and together they walked inside the building made out of a hollowed out log. The air smelled of fryer oil and coffee and many local residents filled the peeling booths along the right wall and squeaky stools of the bar along the left. With only five days left until Christmas, the room was appropriately decorated with cheap plastic garland around the perimeter of every window and a tiny, over-decorated tree tucked in the corner next to the jukebox. There was laughter and smiles to be seen on everyone’s faces while orders were taken and patrons partook of the local food. Well, almost everyone’s anyway.

Feeling their spirits lifted just by being in the diner itself, the twins waved to gain Pacifica’s attention, who was speaking to someone in a booth in the middle of the restaurant. Their hands swiftly came to their sides however when they saw that she was irritatedly speaking to someone with her hands stuffed into her apron pockets, where she was clenching her fists. Trotting up to her, the Pines discovered that the other in the conversation was none other than Preston Northwest himself, barking something back at his daughter.

Mabel was really feeling that longsuffering tiredness now and she rubbed her eyes irritatedly as she tried to keep herself from walking right up and slapping Preston in the face. Too many witnesses were around. There were better things for her to be worrying about than that rat bastard but he was going to make himself their problem anyways and be a huge nuisance to all of them. 

Dipper’s face hardened and he swiftly put his arm around Pacifica’s waist in a protective manner, looked Mr. Northwest straight in the eye, and inquired, “Is there a problem here?”

Preston took a long sip of his coffee before answering in a tone that rang hollow to their ears, “Ah Dipper, it’s good to see you. And Mabel, you as well. Have you come to see Pacifica just as I have?”

“Hi, it’s so good to see you!” Mabel said, her voice so over the top with cheer that it was saturated in sarcasm.

“Yeah whatever man, can you stop bothering my girlfriend now?” Dipper replied snippily.

Preston’s fake smile dropped and he said smoothly, “If by bothering you mean spending some quality time together with my daughter, like any good father would, then I’m afraid I won’t be.”

Pacifica rolled her eyes as she grumbled, “That’s so not why you’re here.”

Mr. Northwest scoffed and looked around innocently, as if what Pacifica had said was ridiculous. “Then what am I doing?”

“You’re just trying to use your power and control me.” She spat, her eyes fierce.

He took another sip from his drink and retorted, “Oh please, I seem to remember that you still haven’t visited me after I invited you over. So here I am, visiting you instead.”

The blonde’s face scrunched up in disgust. “I don’t want to visit you. If you had any common sense you wouldn’t be here. I mean really, you have some nerve showing up after putting me back in that horrible school.”

Dipper nodded in agreement at his girlfriend’s words, proud of her for standing up for herself. The blonde smiled gratefully at him while he remained quiet and he was ready to jump in to help if she looked like she needed it but right now, he was just there for support.

Mabel gazed around the restaurant, searching for an abandoned plate of food she could throw at the man to ruin the stupid and expensive navy suit he was wearing. That would surely tell him what she thought of his brain-dead thoughts. When she didn’t find anything, she resolved to passive-aggressively grin at him while keeping one hand on the hilt of her dagger.

Preston’s face turned into a bored sort of anger, as if he grew tired of the conversation. “Pacifica dear, don’t you see, these people are trying to drive you away from me, your own family. They’ve gotten you to say such ludicrous things.”

Pacifica angrily stamped her foot, turning heads in the diner and even startling Dipper at her side. “Everything I’ve ever said about you has come from your behavior, not my friends’. Leave them out of this!” 

The man’s expression gained just a hint of anxiety when he saw the conversation was starting to turn scowling heads. Most of the patrons didn’t take kindly to upsetting their beloved waitress. He pressed, “Darling, just come with me and you’ll see how much better things are. What you appreciate, that horrid school, this leaky, health code violation riddled space, is all beneath you. Leave these wretched people and I can give you the world on a silver platter. Don’t you remember how you so dearly loved your old life?”

“No.” She responded coldly.

Preston stood from his bench darkly and straightened his tie, looking down on her. “No? Well,” he chuckled softly, “don’t say I didn’t warn you. If you want to live miserably here in the dirt then you can live with the consequences of your actions.”

He strode off out of the building while avoiding the stares from the other restaurant patrons. Once he had made it through the door, Pacifica sighed loudly and rested her head on Dipper’s shoulder.

“What a way to get your morning ruined.” She mumbled bitterly.

“I’m sorry, Paz.” Dipper cooed.

“What a stupid jerk. You chased him off though because you’re a badass.” Mabel told her assuredly.

The blonde’s lips quivered upwards into a ghost of a smile and she said quietly, “Heh, thanks guys.”

At the bar, an out of towner whistled towards Pacifica and barked, “Hey miss, are you gonna refill my coffee or am I gonna hafta do it myself?”

She took her head off of Dipper’s shoulder, straightened out her pink dress and stained apron, picked up her father’s coffee cup from the table, and turned on her heel towards the back. “Yes, I’m coming, give me a second here,” she sassed the patron. With her hand on the swinging door to the kitchen she looked back at the twins and told them, “You guys take a seat, I’ll be back in a minute.”

Sending the random customer a dirty look, Dipper sat at the now empty booth with Mabel across from him. He rubbed his temples and glanced towards the kitchen while he mumbled to his sister, “She has to put up with so much. It’s not fair.”

“Why does her dad have to remind us that he exists?” Mabel huffed, grabbing a straw from a little cup full of them near the window. She ripped the top off the paper wrapping and stuck the end in her mouth and blew, sending the rest of the paper straight towards her brother. But having grown up around Mabel, Dipper was now an expert in avoiding the missiles of parchment and he snatched it straight out of the air, crumpled it up, and set it down on the scuffed up, laminated table.

“He doesn’t belong here. He doesn’t make her happy, he doesn’t bring her peace.” The young man added, watching Pacifica finish up with the other customer and walk up to them with a notepad and pen in her hand. He couldn’t help but notice how adorable she appeared in her uniform and a loving smile automatically came to his lips.

She smiled warmly, but with pain in her eyes, at her two favorite people in the whole world and opened her mouth to speak when a new voice came sauntering up to them. Lazy Susan, with a large tray full of breakfast foods, beamed at the three of them and said, “Oh Mabel, it’s so good to see you. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. Wink,” manually winking her lazy eye with a wide grin. Taking a plate of pancakes off of her platter, she set them down in front of Mabel and said, “Here ya go girlie, it’s on the house.”

“Oh wowie, thank you Susan.” The sweater wearing girl responded, making a mental note that Pacifica had told her the circumstances of her return at some point.

“Oh, of course!” She smiled. “And Pacifica dear, if you need a break to calm down and sit with your cute little friends, you take it.” Susan bubbled, pinching the blonde’s cheek before walking off. Just before she disappeared through the door to the back she said to them, “Oh, and happy holidays.” 

Pacifica’s ears reddened just a little and she stated to the twins, “Susan’s pretty great, isn’t she?”

“I’m glad you like her.” Her boyfriend said genuinely. “But Paz, are you okay? Do you want to take that break?”

Pacifica sniffed and stuck her nose up defiantly in the air, thinking of how her father had tried to invade one of the few places on this planet that were precious to her today. Her gaze went to the sidewalk outside, where she had the displeasure of watching a blacked out car worth more than the Mystery Shack and all the property around it combined speed around the corner and stop in front of her father. Angrily, she said, “No, I don’t. But you know what? Father was waiting for me when we opened up this morning and tried to talk to me about, well- you heard when you came in.”

“Seriously, who does he think he’s convincing with that garbage?” Dipper complained while he rested one elbow against the table top and held his cheek in his hand.

The blonde’s feisty demeanor fell and she hung her head. “Me, apparently. He just won’t leave me alone and I guess ruining my school wasn’t good enough for him so now he has to come to my work too.” The feeling of warm, justifiably angry tears of hurt behind her eyes threatened to leak through but she remained strong. Life was just so stressful for her right now. School was tomorrow and it would undoubtedly remind her of the horrible conversation she had with her father just now while being around all those rich jerks, not to mention well, everything else. At this point she could probably vaguely gesture to anything in her life and it would’ve been negatively affected in some shape or form by either Bill or her dad.

Mabel frowned and stared at her big sad eyes. “Aw Paz, you poor, poor thing. Why don’t I give you a pedicure when you get home?”

Dipper chimed in, “Yeah and watch a movie. Your pick.”

Pacifica clicked her pen and responded, “Yeah, that sounds nice.” But then her face hardened again and she began to spout off, “And we won’t have to worry about my father or his slimy antics because he won’t be there. Because he won’t take my home away from me. My family isn’t with him, it’s with you.” Taking in a deep breath to calm herself, she blinked back her tears and muttered, “Maybe I do need that break after all.”

Her boyfriend patted the space on the bench next to him. “Come eat breakfast with us, we’ll get your mind off of all this.”

“Yeah, and get it on the pancake train.” Mabel chirped, pointing to the platter of food Susan had provided her. She blinked at the meal in front of her and asked, “Dipper, are pancakes leavened?”

He scratched the side of his head. “Uh, I dunno.” 

The sweater wearing girl pursed her lips. “Oh. Hey excuse me miss beautiful waitress, are pancakes leavened and if not, what oil are they cooked with?”

The waitress in question smirked just a little at Mabel’s question, answered, “I dunno- and vegetable oil, I think,” and weighed her options. A big part of her did want to work; she had invited the twins over so she could serve them, after all. But the hurting part longed to just goof off with them and make bringing their food someone else’s problem. Eventually she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, knowing she wouldn’t even be in this position if it wasn’t for her dad. 

“He’s just so stupid,” She started up again irritatedly, apparently not done with her ranting as she glared at her father’s car speeding past the diner, “I mean, what consequences could he have possibly been talking about? Look around, I have a great job. I’m happy here.”

The second she finished speaking, the cracks between the floorboards began to glow a ghostly blue and the walls and ceiling began to shudder as if an earthquake was rolling through the valley. Flames in the kitchen abruptly exploded in intensity as plates rattled and utensils were flung into the air. Bar stools were lifted from the ground, many with people still sitting on them, as the lights swayed from the ceiling. A high squeal rang out through the room, shaking the windows as patrons and staff alike screamed in panic.

“Wh-wh-what the he-e-ell?” Pacifica cried, clutching the table for support.

Her eyes darting around the space for an explanation, Mabel noticed how the outside world went on cluelessly while the diner shook and she yelled, “It’s-it’s only happening in he-e-e-re.”

Dipper flew out of his seat, took Pacifica’s hand, and shouted to the rest of the restaurant, “E-everybody get outside, it’s not safe in here!”

Customers flooded out the door and into the parking lot, where a spider webbing of cracks began to spread out across the asphalt. Mabel tried to grab her plate of wobbling breakfast food but it fell to the floorboards so instead she ran for the exit after everyone else had left, along with the couple that was holding the door, barely able to keep upright with how violently the floor was shaking. Plates and cups crashed to the floor and shattered as drinks were spilled and food went careening away in all directions but the second they made it down the steps and into the outside, everything went still and returned to normal.

“Oh woooow. Is everybody alright?” Lazy Susan inquired of the small crowd in front of her business.

A murmuring of affirmations and head nods spread across the group as everyone caught their collective breaths and gazed apprehensively at the diner for answers. 

“I’ve never seen anything like it.” Someone said.

“What was that?” Another asked.

The unicorn-cloak clad girl poked her brother in the ribs and asked, “Bro-bro, what do you think it was?” While she felt a sense of dread starting to trickle into her gut, one that she tried her best to ignore.

He tapped his foot against the uneven pavement and muttered, “I’m not one hundred percent sure. My gut wants to say a ghost but it could be any sort of undead spirit, really. Like a banshee or a revenant.”

Folding up and sitting glumly on the sidewalk, Pacifica stared at the ground while she pouted, “Oh I don’t care what it is. I’m so done with bad things happening to us all the damn time. I just want to be happy.”

Hearing his significant other’s words broke Dipper’s heart and he swiftly stopped his scheming and sat on the curb next to her, taking her hand from her lap and intertwining his fingers with hers. He told her softly, “I get it. This is pretty sucky.”

Feeling the emotional fatigue slipping into her mind again, Mabel wasn’t sure if even more pancakes and a pedicure could cheer Pacifica up now. But still, she was going to try to be merry anyways so she crouched down to her friend’s level and told her, “Well as sucky as this may be, I will get to the bottom of it.”

Pacifica deadpanned, “Thanks, but what’s it matter? The damage has already been dealt, I’m already upset.” 

“I’m sorry.” The young man apologized. 

She shook her head in mental pain. “Not your fault.”

The crowd around them began to speak up with complaints and anger, demanding their money back and wanting their meals refunded. What started as varying individual protests quickly turned into a few dozen upset people chanting, “We want a refund!”

Susan walked up to the top step and said to the crowd, “Heeeeey, everybody settle down. If you never got to eat your food I’ll refund ya. Come back inside and we’ll get you sorted out.”

“Wait- do you think that’s safe?” Dipper worried to his two loved ones.

The blonde sighed as she got to her feet and responded, “I guess we’re all about to find out.”

Watching Susan open the door to let the customers who needed compensation back in, Dipper attempted to solve this new mystery just as it was beginning and bit his lip while he mumbled to himself, “...A ghost is looking for someone to put it to rest but a revenant usually seeks vengeance from an individual or a group that wronged them. But a banshee can remain on the planet by pure vanity alone…”

“I did hear a high-pitched wail kinda like a banshee.” Mabel supplied.

“Yeah, it sounded familiar though. I’ve heard it before but I don’t remember where.” Dipper pondered.

After the diner guests had let themselves in, the rest of the staff followed suit, with Pacifica bringing up the rear. Susan beamed at her when she walked by and the young woman returned the smile as her boss closed the door behind her. Not more than two seconds after doing so, Greasy’s Diner started to rumble once more as blue light flashed within while the cracks in the pavement inched deeper, causing everybody to rush out in a hurry once more. The twins shared a look of concern with one another and jumped to their feet and came dashing to Pacifica as she raced towards them. With the register in her hands, Susan was the last one to the door. But the shuddering stopped with her still inside and confusedly she walked outside, giving the building a puzzled expression and scratching her head. 

“It happened again.” The blonde cried, pointing towards the restaurant. 

“Yeah we saw, that’s why we came running.” Dipper explained.

“But like, there was this ooze that started leaking from the walls and it was so gross.” She grimaced, running a hand through her hair. Her fingers pulled away and something green and slimy came with them and her grimace deepened. “Oh ew, it got on me. Get it off, get it off!”

“Oh, ectoplasm. Sweet.” The young man gasped. “I actually need this for brewing.”

“No it’s not sweet, it’s in my hair and on my hand.” Pacifica complained, looking for a spot to wipe her fingers clean. Eventually she decided the best course of action was to run her hand through the dead grass and did exactly that.

“Here, I got you both.” Mabel stated. Stealing an empty to-go box out of the hands of a nearby citizen, she used the flat end of her dagger to scrape the goop out of her hair and into the container. After doing so, she thrust the box into Dipper’s hands.

He gazed at the baseball sized pile of ectoplasm and occasional blonde hair Mabel had impressively managed to gather with a grin. “So it’s a ghost then, I totally knew it. I just wonder what triggered it?” He said excitedly, looking up at his girlfriend. But when he saw she appeared less than pleased at the current moment, his expression fell to a sympathetic frown and he cooed, “Which isn’t good for you or Susan.”

It seemed to Mabel like she was going to have to juggle her main mission of mastering magic yet again with fending off another random monster that could’ve just left them alone, which was a righteous thing to do, she understood. But that didn’t make it any less frustrating. Or burn-out inducing. Or tiring. 

With fatigued eyes she grinned and stated, “But it’ll be okay. Aren’t you and Dipper like ghost experts now?”

The blonde shrugged agitatedly and said, “I guess so. But that doesn’t make me freak out any less.”

It was only then that the trio realized that the others around them had left after getting their refunds and the only other person who shared the parking lot with them now was Susan, who was approaching them with a melancholy smile. “Hiii- guys. We’re closing up for the rest of the day but Pacifica, we’re going to try again tomorrow, ‘kay? Now go home you cuties.” She ruffled the blonde’s hair and began walking down the sidewalk towards her home.

Pacifica groaned, “I guess I’m not getting any tips today.”

Dipper shook his head and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “No, but you definitely could tomorrow if we took a look around and did a simple exorcism.” He told her while gesturing toward the diner with his free hand. 

“What our girl Susan doesn’t know can’t hurt her.” Mabel reasoned, hoping she could fix this whole ghost issue as quickly as possible for everyone’s wellbeing.

It seemed like she was incorrect in her logic because Pacifica’s eyes glistened with pain and her voice broke as she said, “Can we just not deal with spooky stuff today? I have ectoplasm in my hair and school tomorrow and I need to relax before starting that train wreck again. Let’s just-just, try again tomorrow, like Susan said. Please?” The ghost didn’t hurt anybody today so it seemed logical to her that nothing of harm could possibly come to Susan or anyone else the next day while she allowed herself to mentally reset.

“Oh- yeah alright. We can totally do that.” The sweater wearing girl dictated with mild surprise.

“Or,” the young man started, “you can relax at home while Mabel and I take care of it so it won’t be a problem later.”

“No,” Pacifica responded sharply, “I don’t want that. I work here, so I’m going to help you get rid of that ghost.” She rubbed her eyes and continued, “Just not today, I don’t have it in me. I’m sick of this whole day already.”

I’m sick of this whole month. Mabel thought moodily.

Dipper looked back and forth between the two girls in his life, both of whom he knew were fighting mental battles right now and it made his heart squeeze like it had been placed in a vice. Mabel caught his eye and quickly shielded her emotions with a default grin, which he yet again took note of. Pacifica didn’t try to hide her feelings and she bitterly wiped her eyes on her apron before standing.

“Well there’s no point in standing around in the cold anymore, let’s go. I wanna watch something old timey and have hot pink nails.” Pacifica communicated with anger in her voice as she pushed herself off the curb. Not aimed at the twins, but her current circumstances. 

With no further words of protest, the two siblings followed.

There was laughter in the air, real and genuine. Since the trio had forgotten there was still no power to the living room after the rat attack, rendering the air a little chilly, they opted to set up in the heated space of the attic and played movies on the laptop amongst a nest of pillows and blankets as the morning lazily rolled by into the afternoon. Dipper and Pacifica were snuggled into each others’ sides, leaning up against the length of her bed, while Mabel rested against a sleeping Waddles. Keeping him away from the popcorn and snack foods had been a task and a half in the beginning but eventually, Mabel kept him busy enough with a tray of nachos that he had fallen into a cheese and chip induced food coma if the grease on his cheeks was anything to go off of. 

Admiring her pink and glittery toe nails, Pacifica let out a content sigh. “I really needed this. Thanks guys.”

Mabel nodded, feeling much like her friend did. These last few hours had felt like a briefly reposing oasis of calm among a harsh desert of hardship and worry she had been aimlessly wandering through over the last few weeks or so. The mental break let her rest her soul some since nothing bad had happened during those exact, precious hours. In the back of her mind, she knew she couldn’t stay there forever; the oasis would dry up and she’d have to keep on through the difficult terrain. 

“Yeah, me too.” Mabel agreed, dropping her knitting needles to stretch out against her pig. He softly snorted in his sleep and stirred.

After reaching her arm out and fumbling her hand blindly around the top of her bed for several seconds, the sweater wearing girl grabbed ahold of her polaroid camera and held it out in front of all of them. “Everybody smile and say, old timey movies with friends are the best and also Mabel rocks.”

Dipper laughed as his sister snapped a picture and Pacifica repeated, “Old timey movies with friends are the best and also Mabel rocks.”

As the film developed, Mabel’s smile grew wider and she turned to a new page in her scrapbook to place the photograph down. ‘ Movie Memories ’ she titled the page with a cursive font of glued down yarn. Gluing the photo down was easy, as was adding swirls of glitter to the border that made her grin.

Credits on the laptop began to roll, marking the end of yet another movie and Pacifica sighed, “Man, I got to forget I had problems in my life for a few hours there.”

“That’s what we’re here for.” Dipper told her, hugging her gently and giving her a kiss on the side of the head. 

Just then, his stomach rumbled against her side and the blonde smirked, “Are you hungry?”

From where she was doodling various movie characters in her book, Mabel piped up, “Hey I have an idea, how about we make our own breakfast for linner since we didn’t get any this morning?”

“Linner?” Pacifica questioned.

Mabel clarified, “Y’know, lunch-dinner. Linner. It’s too late for lunch but too early for dinner.”

“That sounds like fun.” Dipper said and readjusted the way he was sitting on the floor.

“I don’t know, I don’t want to get Salmonella.” Pacifica voiced.

“But Soos is keeping the fridge running with the generator.” Dipper reminded her as he took his cellphone from his pocket.

“Exactly, I don’t trust those eggs as far as I could throw them.” She further pressed.

“So throw them at your dad’s mansion then.” Mabel supplied.

Pacifica giggled as she playfully shoved Mabel’s shoulder. “You’re funny.”

The young man put his electronic device away and said, “Well the internet says cooking kills Salmonella so as long as you’re not eating cookie dough, you should be fine.”

“But raw egg cookie dough is the best. The risk of getting sick is part of the fun, just like the rush you get from gambling.” The sweater wearing girl emphasized, closing up her scrapbook and shoving back under her bed.

“What would you know about gambling, Mabel?” The blonde inquired with a raised brow.

“More than you. I’ll have you know I owe Grunkle Ford two hundred forty nine marbles.” She replied matter-of-factly.

“Hey Pacifica besides, there’s still that ectoplasm in the fridge we need to use today to make a Truesight Potion. It’ll go bad if we don't, so we need to spend some time in the kitchen anyway.” Dipper further persuaded her, secretly hoping she would come around to his suggestion.

The girl rested her head back against the lip of her mattress and after a couple of seconds of contemplation, she smiled faintly and stated, “Alright, fine. I do like brewing.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh good. Well let’s get to it then.”

As Pacifica untangled herself from both him and several blankets she clarified, “But there better be no cross contamination between dinner and the potion ingredients. We gotta do one before the other or I’m not getting involved.”

“That’s actually a smart idea.” The boy complimented.

She said proudly, “Having your Food Handlers Permit comes in handy from time to time.”

“Hey no fair, I wanted to drizzle ectoplasm on my omelet.” Mabel said sarcastically as the three of them headed towards the kitchen.

After lighting up the kitchen with an assortment of candles it was decided that the meal would be prepared first, mostly due to Dipper’s teenage boy sized appetite, because as Mabel put it, “you can’t do witchy things on an empty stomach.” Soos briefly joined them to eat and was thrilled to be eating breakfast food at three in the afternoon. Mabel learned there was little food in the refrigerator after the man’s shopping trip the day before to restock on some essentials, so orange juice was out of the question for today. That didn’t bother her though, since she improvised a new sweet drink by mixing maple syrup into her milk and consumed it alongside her cheese omelet, much to her companions’ disgust. Since bacon and eggs with chocolate chip covered pancakes, which were in fact leavened, wasn’t kosher, she didn’t eat what Dipper, Pacifica, and Soos were having. Not that it stopped her from helping herself to a few healthy handfuls of the candy after seeing a kosher label on the packaging. After clearing their places and cleaning the kitchen, the time for magic could commence and Mabel broke out the witches hats for the occasion once more while Soos returned to his ongoing mission to rewire half the shack. 

“There’s blood in this, I can’t drink this.” Mabel commented, frowning at Dipper’s notebook that was open to the page on the Truesight Potion.

“Yeah that’s ‘cuz it has the same base as the Allspeak Potion. They’re both categorized under the Prophecy section.” Dipper informed her as he weighed out a precise amount of ectoplasm. 

“I thought it was the Knowledge section?” Pacifica questioned as she watched the Question Quail eggs poach.

“Same thing.” Mabel shrugged, taking in the ambience of the late afternoon. Between the candlelit room, her and Pacifica’s witches hats, the glass vials hanging from Dipper’s belt, and the boiling cauldron of water on the stove, she couldn’t help but giggle at the magical energy of the room and snap a picture. 

“Well anyways,” Dipper stated, blinking away the flare of the camera flash as he began to grind up the egg shells in a mortar and pestle, “there’s only enough ectoplasm here for one vial so you probably won’t be drinking it.”

“What does this one do anyways?” The cloak wearing girl questioned, peering at the boiling water.

“It lets you see through walls, I think.” He stated, grateful for yesterday’s late night trip he had made to the fairies. Having extra Allspeak Potions would’ve been helpful but being able to look through solid objects was just plain cool.

“Wowie, think of all the top secret spying you could do with that. I’d be the world’s best secret agent.” Mabel commented, hopping up to sit on top of the kitchen table.

“I wonder if there’s more combinations out there that we just don’t know of.” Pacifica mused, now pipetting drops of fox blood into the cauldron. Just as she had been expecting, the runes at its base lit up with pink light and a cloud of red steam puffed into the air, making her smile faintly.

Remembering the smoke incident that had occurred last time, Mabel turned around and crawled across the table top to open the kitchen window, careful not to tip over the menorah. She gazed briefly upon the old, battle-hardened, thing that was a little bent out of shape in some places but a symbol of light regardless and it made her grin since she found herself relating to it. As she faced the couple again she joked, “Yeah, like what if there’s one that turns your skin into the texture of a disco ball and makes you tear it up on the dance floor?”

“What would even be the name of that one?” Dipper asked, taking the Question Quail eggshells away from the bunsen burner with a pair of trusty tongs and setting them down next to his girlfriend so he could handle the ectoplasm.

Pacifica chuckled softly and shivered a little with the freezing late day air wafting into the room but said nothing of it since she also remembered that terrible smoke. Instead she responded to her significant other’s question, “The boogie potion,” with a slight giggle. Now finished with pipetting the fox blood, she watched the liquid within the pot thicken and darken to a deep red and began to sprinkle in the burnt eggshells around the rim, half a gram at a time.

“That’s just fantastic, I love it.” Mabel complimented as she kicked her feet over the edge.

From where he was busy leaning over a bowl with a whisk, Dipper commented, “I never thought I’d be whipping ectoplasm but here I am.”

“Aw, it looks like lime pudding.” Mabel exclaimed excitedly, letting her feet hit the floor to trot over to her brother.

She had hardly lifted her hand when Dipper slapped it away. “Mabel, please don’t touch this. There's still some leftovers in the takeout box if you want to eat that.”

The young woman glanced at the sticky slime still coating the bottom of the container and wrinkled her nose. “No thanks, it looks like snot.” Then she shrugged as she looked over Pacifica’s shoulder at what boring thing she was doing and added, “Plus I dunno if ectoplasm is kosher.”

“Probably not? But I don’t know why you would ever want to eat that in the first place.” Pacifica guessed, scooting over so her boyfriend could dump the final ingredient into the pot with a rubber spatula.

“Because it won’t look like this once everything is complete. You won’t even be able to tell it’s in there, hopefully.” Dipper supplied as the ectoplasm was dumped from the glass bowl into the slurry in the cauldron.

Pacifica thought back to the time she had consumed the Allspeak Potion and concluded that he did have a point. It had tasted rather good and if she didn’t know any better, she would’ve never guessed the ingredients consisted of animal blood and spider parts. She adjusted the witch hat on her head and replied, “I can’t argue with that.”

“Wait, why isn’t it doing anything?” Dipper questioned with furrowed brows, watching the runes continue to glow softly.

His girlfriend glanced back at the translated instructions and mumbled, “Did you whip it the wrong direction?”

“I-I didn’t think so, maybe I-” Dipper’s anxious words were cut off when a thick, dark smoke rose from the vibrating ceramic pot and quickly took over the air. But just as before, Mabel’s excellent timing of window opening saved the day and it cleared out almost as swiftly as it had arrived, leaving the cauldron with only a thin layer of clear pink liquid at the bottom.

Pacifica turned off the burner while Dipper sucked the brew into a turkey baster and then deposited it into a small glass vial and placed it on his leather belt, just behind the two ocean hued Water Walk glasses. With five bottles now attached, he looked like a proper mage and wished he had a cloak like Mabel or a magic themed hat like Pacifica he could wear. There was a pretty cool stick under his bed he could use as a quarterstaff though.

“Huh, it smells like oranges.” Mabel commented, leaning her head over the cauldron. She dragged a finger around the bottom, picking up the remaining residue like a child collecting the remnants from a bowl of brownie batter after it had been poured into the pan and licked it. “Blegh, it doesn’t taste like oranges. More like cough medicine.” 

“Oh, I guess we forgot to sweeten it this time.” Pacifica remembered, thinking back to their first ever attempt in brewing.

“It’s fine, it'll just taste like medicine then.” Dipper said, not looking forward to a future where he ever did have to consume that particular brew.

Mabel blinked a few times, as if she was trying to focus her vision, and then her eyes went wide as she slowly looked around the room like she was seeing the inside of a grand castle for the first time. “I can see into the walls. I can see the insulation and the leaky pipes and the long abandoned animal nests. I can point out where Dipper put the eggs away from here and-and, oh it’s gone.” She grinned and continued, “Welp the superpowers were fun for the ten seconds I had them.” 

“Did you… see anything else?” The blonde inquired self consciously.

The sweater-wearing girl laughed, “No Paz, I just saw into inanimate objects, not you or Dipper. That would be gross.”

“At least we know it works.” Dipper said happily, patting the vial proudly. 

It was right at that moment that the lights flickered back on in the kitchen in all their luminescent glory. Not fifteen surprised exclamation filled seconds later, Soos burst into the room with a toolbox in hand and covered in a few splotches of grease here and there, to which Mabel wondered how that could have possibly happened since last she heard, he was doing electrical work. He was grinning from ear to ear watching the freshly replaced light bulbs do their job and nodded in a satisfactory manner.

“Haha nice, I did that.” He beamed brighter than the bulbs.

“Soos, you king on earth! I’m so proud of you.” Mabel exclaimed, charging him and giving him a large hug. When she pulled away, a little motor oil came with her and again she mused how Soos got any on himself at all.

“You’re the best, Soos.” Pacifica smiled.

“Yeah, thanks man. You’ve been working hard.” Dipper agreed while he wiped the inside of the cauldron with a dish rag.

The new Mr. Mystery himself blushed and chuckled, “Aw geez guys, it’s really nothin’.” 

Now finished with blowing out all the candles in the room, Mabel inquired, “Does the gift shop have power now too? Do we have a way to make a living again?”

Soos’s laughter gained a slightly uneasy edge. “Well no, it still eludes my grasp. But that’s not all I’ve been up to, come take a look.” He motioned for the three of them to follow him upstairs and curiously, they did.

With each creaky step they ascended, their interest grew. But the wait for an answer wasn’t a long one because once they reached the top, they saw it. Sitting idly with blinking lights and a softly whirring fan, Pacifica’s PC waited patiently for her to return to it. It brought a dull, pink glow to the room that went nicely with the red glass of the window that made Dipper feel like he was standing in the middle of a sunset. With her hands together against her mouth, Pacifica slowly approached her computer, gratitude overflowing within her. When she jostled her salmon colored mouse, her monitor blinked to life, showing her beloved desktop of her Bloodcraft: Overdeath character looking out across the fantasy landscape of the game. Everything was working perfectly.

Not knowing what else to say, she said softly, “Oh Soos, thank you so much.” The thought had gone through her mind a million times before but Pacifica was forever grateful for her family. They put her at ease during the most difficult of times and showed that they cared for her wellbeing, like they were doing now.

Patting her shoulder he shared, “I fixed it up for you. Enjoy, girl-dood,” and strode off down the stairs towards his room.

The blonde sat in her plush gaming chair almost reverently and placed her left hand on the keyboard as if it were a sacred object. Excitement made her heart flutter at the thought of experiencing the sequel to her favorite game ever made but then she pulled her hand away and gazed at the twins and communicated, “I guess I should play this later, huh? We were having so much fun together.”

“Don’t worry about it, we can pull up some bean bags and watch.” Dipper told her, flirtatiously tapping her on the nose. 

“I’m already on it. You’re gonna game the night away, girl.” Mabel chirped and skipped off to her room as Pacifica giggled and opened the game. 

The feeling of an icy snake slithering up her spine made Mabel briefly pause and glance towards the triangle motif, stained glass window as the room seemed to dim around her. Ew, what was he doing here? It didn’t matter, she was being happy today anyways and there was no place for Bill at that table. So she ignored him as she dragged two bean bag chairs from her room to the computer and sat in one of them. Dipper took the other while Mabel busied her mind with the character creation menu so she wouldn’t have to think about what sleep, nor tomorrow, nor any demon would bring.

From the stained glass window, Bill Cipher watched them, a smug grin in his eye. They had no idea what awaited them.

Chapter Text

Sleep was no longer coming easily to Mabel. The night before she had found herself tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable. Originally she had reasoned it to be nothing more than bad luck but with the same thing happening two nights in a row now,  it had to mean something more. It was a strange thing, she had never struggled with her sleep before, even while resting in relatively dangerous places in the Multiverse. Swapping out which stuffed animal she held in her arms for the fifth time tonight, she rolled over once more and tried to get cozy. It was another hour before she finally dozed off… And dreamed.

It was Pacifica. There she was, her head in her hands and a complete inconsolable mess sitting on the front steps of Greasy’s as Susan had a hand comfortingly on her back. With the whole world slowed to a tenth of its normal speed, Mabel’s mind watched her friend lift her head from her hands to take in a breath, her mascara running down her cheeks. She was completely distraught, maybe more so than she had ever seen before. 

Well that one was… ominous. The thought permeated through Mabel’s soul as she blinked the sleepiness from her eyes and rolled out of bed. But she decided she was going to leave it at that as she quickly wrote down what the latest vision had been about. Because this morning didn’t call for staring blankly at the ceiling while pouting about magic, the forecast was all sunshine and singing birds with rainbows. So she quickly dressed herself in a white sweater with a five candle menorah to celebrate the fourth day of Hanukkah with a matching bandana tied behind her ears and walked out the door, her blue sequinned skirt swishing all the way. Being as caught up as she was

in tabling her own turmoil while she skipped past, she failed to notice the feeling of Cipher watching her from the stained glass window. His eye crinkled in amusement at the sight of her, for he saw straight past her facade. The worse off she remained, the better things would be for him. Llama’s father was still giving him quite the headache but redirecting that pain onto someone else always made him smile.

Part of her felt guilty for not ruminating on the latest dream, which quickly turned to anger. Why couldn’t she just handle this like a mature- wait no, that wasn’t good. She wasn’t doing that anymore so she decided she would say something she liked about herself instead as she trotted into the empty kitchen. Dipper and Pacifica’s breakfast plates were on the dish rack, cluing her in that they had gone to school that morning while something orange and purple simmered in the cauldron on the stovetop with a paper note sitting on the counter next to it.

Mabel recognized the handwriting as Dipper’s and it read, 

Mabel and Soos, please do not touch anything!! You can use the stove but leave this burner alone! If you have to use the stove, maybe use the burner opposite of the one with the cauldron, just in case. I’ll be back to finish it after school but for now it needs to sit. (I’m making a Radiant Potion by the way) You guys are great, love you.

• Dipper

Once she had finished with the note, she smiled slightly but didn’t stop to eat; she wasn’t hungry just yet.

“I’m a kind person.” Mabel told herself, walking towards her destination, the backyard. “I like to help other people.” She whispered to herself as she unlocked the back door and hugged her cloak to her chest. “I’m reliable.” The girl said while she crossed the yard covered in a powdered layer of fresh snow into the old, towering forest.

The frosty fresh scent of frigid water and pine needles entered her nose and lungs as she set off down one of many nameless trails around the property. A genuine smile spread across her face as she broke out into a fast jog, leading her up a shallow incline and deeper into the wilderness. She was in control of what she told herself, no one but her got to dictate whether or not she wanted to workout outside in subzero weather, and knowing that brought her a little sliver of peace. Never in a million years would the pre-portal her be doing what she currently was, she would’ve been curled up in front of the TV with a mug of hot cocoa right about now, which did sound nice to be honest. This was the portion of Grunkle Ford that had rubbed off on her, she knew it for certain, and it made her feel connected to him in a way, despite the vast distance between them and missing him dearly. As her boots crunched the fresh powder and kicked it up behind her with each step, she hoped he would be proud of her and everything she’d done. Her chest burned and her body started to sweat and she recalled many of the things he had taught her, including how to be strong. 

The fifteen year old came to a stop, resting with one arm against a woody pine with wet bark, as she greedily sucked in as much air as she could, not even caring she was soaking her sweater sleeve. After using her bandana to dot the perspiration from her brow, she tied it back behind her ears to keep her short hair out of her face and let her thoughts simply wander over much of her time in the Multiverse, not realizing the edge of her mind was desperately searching it for answers. It was hard to wrap her head around the fact that she had been home for only two months and on her own for one. In her head it felt much longer and much shorter than that at the same time, like years had passed each week. But here she was now, keeping her chin up and smiling through it all.

Fueled by her endorphins, Mabel cast a Wind Spell and used it to launch herself high into the branches of the nearest pine, telling herself she was doing just fine. People didn’t go for morning forest jog things if they weren’t fine, they stayed in bed all day reading sad stories or something like that. She wouldn’t know because she was doing great. The branch she stood on swayed gently under her weight, freeing itself from the snow that had settled on top of it, which fell two stories to the earth. 

Seeing the frozen water splatter when it made contact with the ground reminded Mabel that she actually wasn’t a fan of heights and she swiftly hugged the thick trunk, her knees wobbling and her eyes squeezed shut. But no, she had her jingle bell and her hand bell, she was holding the latter in her hands right now. If anything were to happen she could make a landing spot of snow, slow her fall with another Wind Spell, or let her bell take the brunt of the force and be fine. Rationalizing her fear, she opened her eyes and fought through it, just like she did with everything nowadays. As her fingers trembled, she cast yet another Wind Spell and let it lift her feet from the branch and fling her to the next tree.

Mabel undershot it just a little and had to reach out to grab the wood with her arms, now dangling twenty feet off the ground as icicles broke around her. With a grunt of exertion, she swung her legs over the top of the bough and unsteadily stood. Okay, she just did that all on her own, the danger of it be damned. Staring at the redwood across the trail from her, she extended her arms for balance and walked further out, the limb starting to sag under her mass. Another spell later and she was flying through the air. Her boots hit the bark and her cloak hit her a second later as she gained her balance, satisfied with her progress. Maybe she could make it all the way home like this; There was only one way to find out. 

From tree to tree she went, jumping over gaps in the canopy like some sort of lemur with the aid of magic. Grinning while feeling the rush of the wind play with her hair and nipping at her ears, she ignored how she was spending less time at each passing bough and was instead going faster and faster to focus on the joy of the moment. That was okay, she had taken it slow long enough and now racing by above the ground was refreshing. Mabel’s feet briefly made contact with another branch, thirty feet in the air, before her momentum carried her forward before she had even allowed her windy magic to catch up to her. Stopping all her speed now though would be like trying to hit the brakes while running down a steep hill and wouldn’t end well at all. Her foot slipped on a patch of ice nestled in the crook between the next bough and trunk and then she was falling, her eyes to the sky. Instead of falling back on her jingle bell or going for her hand bell, she relied on her own strength in her panicked state and instinctively reached for the hilt of her dagger and embedded it into the side of the wide pine, praying the blade would bite against the wood and catch her. Her hands and arms locked up in a flexed position, holding onto her weapon as it slowed her fall enough to land her feet roughly on the frozen ground and throw her onto her backside. 

With a pained groan, Mabel climbed to her feet, feeling the lingering energy of her landing in her soles and knees. The old site of the break on her left ankle was giving her a particularly hard time and it throbbed irritatedly, just like it always did now before it was about to rain. After stretching out her legs a little, she turned her attention to her dagger embedded deep into the trunk of the pine and wrapped both hands around its hilt with one boot against the tree and pulled hard. It was nearly a minute before she was able to yank the blade from the plant. With a final tug, she stumbled back a few steps and then grinned down at her trusty dagger. Her smile froze.

The force brought down on the weapon from holding up her own weight had further cracked the blade, giving it a fragile appearance. It looked like the poor thing was on its last legs now and any more blows would be nearly enough to finally crumble it. The runes gave her the faintest of flickering when she brushed over them, almost in a self mourning matter. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do this to you.” She whispered to it regretfully.

Gingerly, she resheathed it and pocketed her hand bell and began limping back towards the shack. Okay so lesson learned then, there would be no more monkey business in the treetops. It pained her to have inflicted further damage on an already broken magical item that was literally from another universe. Her dagger had been by her side for a long time and now she had hurt it, albeit unintentionally, and it dampened the mood she had set out to make for herself when leaving the house this morning. But no matter, that wasn’t anything a little time spent cozying up in front of the TV with some hot cocoa while knitting a new sweater couldn’t fix. 

I should really practice the Prophecy Spell more though, I’ve been a slacker lately. The thought entered her mind, causing her to feel guilty as the Mystery Shack came back into view. 

She pushed it aside, reasoning that there wasn’t any hurt that could possibly come from having one relaxing morning. Then once the afternoon rolled around and she waited for Dipper and Pacifica to come home from school, she could put in some work. Well, if the ghost at Greasy’s wanted to behave itself that was. Pacifica had a shift that afternoon and remembering this made her worry for her friend’s wellbeing. Mabel decided to turn a blind eye to the default anxiety that seemed so hardwired into her these days and concluded she wasn’t going to let this what-if get the best of her. Neither was knowing her friend was in a place she hated right now. So manually putting a skip into her step, she went in the back door and headed off to the kitchen for breakfast.

Her door was kicked open. Mabel, who had her eyes closed sitting cross legged on the ground, had been right in the middle of repeating the verbal and symbolic component to the Prophecy Spell for the fourth of the required six times when it happened. The sudden noise had caused her eyes to fly open while she startled and immediately broke her concentration. 

Pacifica stormed up to her bed, threw her backpack on top of it, and yanked her waitress uniform from the closet with a cloud of fury looming over her head. She did pause to give Mabel an apologetic look and tell her, “Sorry Mabel. Just another bad day, big surprise I know. Anyways, I’m off to work so wish me luck,” before she ran back out the door.

“Paz, wait!” Mabel called but it was too late.

While the sweater wearing girl got to her feet, she heard her friend say something to Dipper in the foyer, which was followed by a slamming door and then the sound of approaching footsteps. Her twin greeted her atop the stairs and had mixed emotions of sadness and frustration on his face but managed to smile at her anyways. 

“Hey Mabel, how’s your day been?” He asked genuinely.

She cheered, “Um good, yeah it’s good! Super good…” but then trailed off distractedly as she picked at a loose thread on her sleeve. “Hey, Paz isn’t okay, right? Did you talk to her?”

Any remaining anger on his face fizzled out and was replaced by gloom. “Yeah, she’s not great. Just super mad at her dad today, which I mean is fair. I am too and the same probably goes for you.”

Mabel sighed, “He really stinks and he spreads that stink around to everyone else.” 

Dipper crossed his arms and gave a hard stare at the wall. “And there’s nothing we can do about it but support Paz.”

“Well, I hope she can scrub all her anger out by wiping down tables.” There was a beat of silence between them before she continued, “But anyways, how are you doing, bro?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and replied truthfully, “Well to be honest, I’m pretty worried for Pacifica. But then again when am I not? Also I think I’m still mentally recovering from almost dying from a rat curse. Plus my room still doesn’t have any power or heating…” 

Mabel looked around at the room, to the stained glass window, Pacifica’s PC, and the bathroom. Lovingly, she patted the floorboards and stated, “Yep, this old shack’s taking a beating for us. She’s still standing even after everything, isn’t that great?”

Dipper’s downcast expression turned sunnier at his sister’s ability to look on the bright side. “That’s true, I guess it’s not all terrible. Really with our track record it could be a lot worse.”

The young woman thought back to the time they had been removed from the shack completely since they hadn’t even technically owned it and nodded. At least they still had the shack.

He perked up a little and went on, “Hey but we’re gonna be prepared for whatever’s next if I say so. Oh that actually reminds me, can I use your cloak, or part of it I mean, for the potion?”

She looked at him with a little confused frown and glanced down at the garment draped around her shoulders. “You want to dump my cloak in a pot of boiling mystery liquid? Nu-uh bro bro. Not even all my love for you will get me to say yes to that.”

“I just need one strand of hair. Don’t worry, I’m not going to chop it up or anything like that.” He quickly clarified.

She tapped her bare foot against the creaky floorboards, considering his proposal. “Okay, that’s sweet with me. It’s for a Radiant Potion, right?”

He started down the stairs and replied, “Great, let’s go then. And yeah that’s right.”

As Mabel slid down the banister with a bright face, her mind vaguely wandered back to the topic of her spellcasting and she wondered what it was she could still be doing wrong. There wasn’t the slightest hint of magic in her body or in the air that she could pick up on during these sessions, even the one today, and it was driving her nuts. Wait, no it wasn’t actually. Nope, everything was just fine and dandy and she was great. 

“You seem rather cheerful today.” Dipper noted, choosing his words carefully as he re-read the instructions to the brew he was creating. 

“Yeah… I mean, yeah!” She beamed as she unclasped her garment from around her neck. 

With his back turned to her, he raised his brows somewhat at her response but didn’t question it further. Well that confirmed his suspicions, something was most likely up with Mabel. But whatever it was, she wasn’t giving any hints about right now. He thought back to their conversation yesterday morning and wondered if she was struggling with missing her grunkles again. “Well I want you to be happy, I hope you know that.”

His sister quickly changed the subject and asked with much enthusiasm, “Thanks bro, how long of a hair do you need?”

“Well the direct translation says ‘longer than one hand’, which I’m pretty sure means more than six inches.” He replied, tapping the end of the ladle against his chin.

“So like this?” She inquired after pulling a loose strand free from the cloak.

“That should work, thanks Mabel.” He said contently and plucked the hair out of her hands and gently lowered it into the simmering orange and purple liquid. When he did so, it came to a boil all on its own and he began to slowly stir it halfway around clockwise and then counterclockwise. 

As Mabel began to rummage through the cupboards looking for an afternoon snack, Dipper’s mind wondered if he could get her to open up about what he thought had been bothering her while he started a metronome on his phone to count the four hundred and one half-stirs he needed to accomplish to complete the potion. If his knowledge was correct, then he knew she would eventually spill if he coaxed it out of her by presenting his concern as an innocent conversation. But what if she figured out what he was trying to do? Then what? Well then she would try to deflect by joking her way out of it, most likely. So maybe by gauging- 

“You’re staring awfully hard at that pot, Dipper.” Mabel was telling him through a mouthful of popcorn, holding a paper bag of it in her hand.

Huh, he hadn’t heard the microwave turn on, or go off for that matter. Just how deep in his own thoughts had he gotten?

“Hello, Earth to Dipper?” She said, snapping her fingers in his face.

“Oh sorry Mabel. What’s up?” He replied sheepishly.

“Well I was trying to tell you that if we all had that potion on Saturday, then the rats wouldn’t have stood a chance.” She told him and leaned back against the counter next to him.

The young man continued to stir to the beat of the metronome. “That’s true. I probably wouldn’t have been bit, neither would Soos.”

“It would’ve been rat carnage. Nothing but their brethren turning to lumps of coal under our glowing might. Which is what they deserved for Christmas, they’re naughty.” She insisted, shoveling more food into her mouth.

 “Are we thinking of the same Santa here? Because last time I heard, he doesn’t turn you into coal. He gives it to you.” He retorted calmly.

Mabel gasped and pretended to be insulted at his words. “Don’t you lecture me about Christmas boy, I’m the expert.”

“Did you just call me boy?” He asked with an amused smile.

“Yup, it’s true isn’t it? You’re younger than me so you’re a boy and I’m a woman.” She grinned.

Dipper didn’t respond since he was searching her face for answers on whether or not she really was okay. So far, it seemed like she was just being her usual chatty self but it could’ve easily been because she was trying to keep her mind off of something else.

Mabel shook the popcorn bag to unstick several pieces from the wall and questioned, “You good, bro?” 

He blinked out of his thoughts and he informed, “I was just thinking.”

“‘Bout what?” She inquired nonchalantly.

About you, he almost said but thought better of it. Actually he had the perfect question to ask her, one that would’ve made sense in their conversation anyways and he was impressed with himself how smoothly he was about to pivot the conversation. So he tried asking her, “How crazy would it be if Grunkle Stan and Ford made it home for Christmas?” 

Mabel gave a weak laugh. “That would like totally blow my mind.” She made an explosion sound effect and mimicked the action with her hands coming off of her head. “Just like that.”

While the level of substance in the cauldron had steadily lowered and turned an electric yellow, he smiled while a sadness entered his eyes and prodded, “Well let’s say they arrive Christmas morning, the last day of Hanukkah, what are you going to do?” Because truth be told, he was also missing Grunkle Stan right now. Especially as the days left to Christmas dwindled, they felt more like a ticking time bomb than a celebratory countdown right now. What would he do when he woke up Christmas morning and the grunkles weren’t there? He didn’t know. 

“Give them the biggest hug in the whole wide world and then give them the bestest presents in the whole wide world.” She chirped, looking through the doorway to the dark living room. 

Sure the lights were still out thanks to Bill, but she could see her gifts sitting perfectly underneath the unlit tree, right next to several others to be opened in only a few short days. Mabel tried not to think about how her family would most likely not return before the holidays were over. Grunkle Ford hadn’t given them any sort of time frame to when they would be back and it made an achiness enter her chest, one that threatened to regurgitate every other anxious feeling she had been avoiding and she pushed it all down. Her happiness had to prevail.

“I just wish we could talk to them.” He said sadly. Hang on, he was messing this up. He was supposed to be comforting Mabel and getting her to admit she wasn’t okay, not the other way around. But, he supposed, wasn’t supporting one another the right way to go about this anyways? So he quit feeling guilty for telling her his emotions and continued, “And we could tell them that we miss them and hope they’re doing well.”

“I would figure out a way to digitally send Latkes across spacetime for them.” His sister told him.

It was just then that the metronome ended and the app alerted him that he had completed his stirs and was ready to move onto the next step. The fluid in the cauldron had practically completely boiled off, leaving behind just the right amount to fill a singular vial. Both briefly paused in their conversation to take care of the magic and Mabel handed him the turkey baster from the dish rack after he turned off the burner and like the expert potionologist his sister said he was, he transported the brew from the ceramic pot to a glass vial and sealed it shut with a cork. Any remaining droplets of the potion remaining in the cauldron spontaneously combusted and went up in flickering flames before Mabel could sample them.

She put a hand on her hip as if she were scolding the brew itself and chuckled, “It’s like it knew what I wanted to do and stopped me.”

“That’s probably for a good reason.” Her brother concluded while he admired the brand new, bright yellow phial hanging off his belt.

“Oh well, at least you’ll get to be cool and glowy when you drink it.” The sweater wearing girl said and took a seat at the table.

Dipper smirked and revisited their conversation in his head, searching it for any signs of her pain. It was obvious enough to him that she missed her grunkles, as did they all. But was it enough to talk to her about it? Well it seemed to him that either she was hiding this really well, or she actually was okay. Who knew, maybe he was crazy and was simply projecting his own longing onto her. 

Before either of them could say another word though, the front door flew open.

Pacifica was standing there in the foyer and clearly she had been crying since her eyes were red and puffy and her mascara had run all down her cheeks. She looked around, as if searching desperately for something, and locked eyes with the twins in the kitchen. Just seeing them made her start to weep all over again and without wasting another moment, the siblings rushed over to her. The blonde threw herself at Dipper when he arrived and wrapped her arms around his neck as she started to sob against his shoulder. Together they knelt to the floor and the young man hugged her tightly back, his worried expression clear as day to Mabel. She sat on the floor next to them and embraced Pacifica too, her eyes full of concern. The trio stayed like that for a minute that stretched on for an hour before Pacifica finally lifted her head and took in a deep breath.

“The diner… I lost my job.” She squeaked out.

“What?!” Dipper exclaimed, loosening his hold on her to look her straight in the face.

Mabel gasped and covered her mouth in shock.

Through shaky breaths, she managed to get out, “Th-the ghost, it turned everything up-upside down a-and cracked the ground u-under the building. It’s t-too unstable to operate.” 

“Oh Paz, that’s so terrible.” Mabel cooed, feeling a cold dread with the density of lead beginning to grip her throat. Fighting it off was a losing battle.

The blonde wiped her eyes on her apron and continued with a quivering lip, “S-so we’re closed until we can get it fixed.”

Dipper hugged her tighter and whispered, “Oh hun, I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

The waitress shook her head as Dipper helped her to her feet and she lamented, “No… I can’t believe this is happening. Why me?” 

“I don’t know, Paz,” he said softly, “I don’t know.”

“Well, how are you feeling about it? Can you rate your pain on a scale of one to ten?” Mabel inquired gently.

She scoffed and angrily twisted her lip. “Uh, where does ‘terrible’ fall? Nine? Ten? My whole life is falling apart before my eyes, guys! I’m distraught, a complete mess.”

Her boyfriend took her hands in his own and told her, “Pacifica, you have every right to be a complete and utter disaster right now. Besides, you’re cute all the time, even when you cry.”

A ghost of a smile went across Pacifica’s lips and she continued, “Thanks, Dip. Oh but get this, apparently everything was fine until I showed up for my shift, then the weirdness started.”

“Really? Do you think you have something to do with it then?” The young man questioned quietly.

“Maybe that’s not a coincidence…” Mabel mumbled to herself as her dread tightened its grip. Something wasn’t right, something wasn’t adding up here and no matter how hard she tried to shove it away, her uneasiness was just refusing to leave her alone now.

Pacifica stared at the floor, letting a tear fall from her nose, and winced, “Yes, no, I don’t know.” She huffed and went on, “Poor Susan, she lost her business. She’s such a saint though, she was comforting me even after what happened to her. She just held me while I bawled on the front steps like I was the one whose career just went down the drain.”

Mabel’s words felt far away to her as they left her lips and the world swam around her. “Wait, what?”

Pacifica furrowed her brows and clarified, “Um, yeah Susan and I won’t have a job until the diner is repaired... Are- are you okay Mabel? Is something wrong?”

Mabel laughed nervously as she broke eye contact with her friend and stammered, “Heh, it’s nothing, really.”

The protective wall of optimism Mabel had built around herself collapsed like a match-stick house in an inferno. What Pacifica had just said was probably her worst nightmare and confirmed what she had been dreading for weeks now. It was staring her straight in the face and she couldn’t ignore it; one of her visions had just come true. Her visions, the ones that were filled with terrible tragedy and violence, could now all happen at some point in the future. How on earth was she supposed to keep the rest of them from happening? All that turmoil she had felt that morning of her last dream that drove her to weeping at Dipper’s bedside rose back up like vomit in her throat and made her dangerously nauseous, nearly causing her to puke.

Before either of them could open their mouths to respond, Mabel said much too quickly, “Hey but why don’t I go make you a milkshake to cheer you up, Paz?” She abruptly pushed the couple into the living room, onto the couch, and went on, “You guys just cuddle on the couch and don’t come in, it’ll ruin the surprise flavor combo.”

“Mabel, what-” Dipper tried saying.

She held a finger up to his mouth, silencing him. “Shh, leave me to my magic.” The girl hurriedly walked into the kitchen and hollowly grinned, “no peeking,” before disappearing around the corner.

Excusing herself to the kitchen had been a good idea because the peace of the day before was completely gone, having slipped away like sand between her fingers. Anger leaked out slowly and silently from her eyes, wetting her cheeks. Why did the Axolotl have to do this to her? She couldn’t take it any longer, the pressure was slowly killing her, unseeable but strangling the life out of her like an invisible phantom. Even just keeping herself happy now was an impossible task and she hated it. Because she wasn’t kidding anyone, her attempt at ignoring all her problems the last two days and pretending like everything was good and dandy was doomed from the start. Her battle against fear and anxiety had been lost because she still wasn’t doing enough. She wasn’t enough. 

No, keep going. Keep going! She told herself against ever growing odds.

Irritatedly she wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her sweater and dug her handbell from her pocket because dammit, she was going to cast this Prophecy Spell if it was the last thing she ever did. Her cheerfulness she had worked so hard for was going to give her just the new angle she needed to figure it out, even if it was gone like dust in the wind. It would give her the answers she was searching for and then everything would be okay. 

You’re no oracle, you’ll never get it to work. Her own voice hissed in her ear.

No, that wasn’t true, she had to! Her nightmares were unfolding right in front of her eyes now and this spell was the only thing that could stop them. So she took in a deep breath and tried to calm herself down, emptying her mind. But no matter how much focus she put into simply being present in the moment, she couldn’t get Pacifica’s distraught face out of her head, nor any of her other visions. Bill Cipher’s hand closing around her neck, a bloodied Pacifica sobbing at the portal, the Mystery Shack up in flames, they circled around her head like a thick, black fog that clouded her mind with fear and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible was going to happen. Before long, she found herself shaking as she tightly clutched the back of a chair, breathing quickly with her knuckles white and pained. Mabel Pines, the happiest girl in the world, was miserable.

“I wish Grunkle Ford was here.” She squeaked.

For so long she had been desperate for any sort of answers about these dreams and now she wanted to take it all back. How could she though, knowing they could help her protect her family? No, it was all too much, she could feel herself cracking under the pressure the Axolotl was putting on her, like a poorly constructed vase in a kiln. It was only a matter of time before she exploded now. But it was her own fault she was breaking, that she was reacting this way, and she was doing this to herself and she hated that. Hated herself.

“I am… strong enough…” Mabel gritted out, her eyes welling up with tears.

Her head slowly bowed until it was resting against the top of the chair, her hands quivering while they gripped the sides. A singular, silent sob escaped her lips and she irritably grit her teeth. Weakness meant death to her and her family, not to mention Dipper and Pacifica were just in the next room over and she couldn’t let them see her like this. She was going to carry on just like everything was fine since they were going through enough as it was and worrying her loved ones would only hurt them. So she uncurled her fingers from the wood, surprised she hadn’t actually left any marks, and stood up straight and wiped her eyes on her cloak. Shakily, she shuffled over to the fridge to take the milk, chocolate syrup, and strawberries. Mabel was going to make this damn milkshake if it killed her.

Back in the living room, the couple was speaking in hushed but sharp whispers.

“Something’s not right with Mabel.” Pacifica worriedly told her boyfriend from where she was curled up at his side, tabling how she felt about her own trial to focus on her friend.

“You’ve been thinking it too?” Dipper inquired of her as he ran a hand up and down her back.

The blonde muttered into his chest, “Uh huh, ever since the rats happened she’s been on my radar. I feel like I’ve seen a difference in her over time, like she’s slowly losing her collectedness. She keeps brushing it off though, like she’s trying too hard to act like everything’s fine. But everything is very much not fine.” 

“I know what you mean, I see her slip occasionally and lose her, well, Mabelness. Yesterday she told me not to worry about Grunkle Stan and Ford.” He mumbled, stretching his neck to try and see into the kitchen from where he was sitting.

The girl blinked in surprise. “What? Oh man, she must be hella stressed to be saying that. Any reasonable person would be worried about them.”

He nodded in agreement. “I don’t think she realizes I know what she’s doing. It’s exactly what Grunkle Stan does.”

“Well, Stan’s all grown and old. It makes sense for him to not want to worry a couple of teens.” She said uneasily.

Dipper added to her train of thought by saying, “But Mabel though? She’s not any older than the rest of us, we’re on the same level.” 

“So what could it possibly be that’s got her all wound up? Is she worried about me? Or-or maybe she’s just stressed in general?” Pacifica threw out the arm that wasn’t wrapped around Dipper puzzledly and then let it drop. 

“Yeah, maybe. I know I’m certainly worried about you…” He trailed off, deep in thought.

“I really can’t say I blame her though, life has been chaotic for all of us since Stan and Ford left.” She finished, staring at their reflection on the black screen of the television. 

Pacifica studied their mirrored twins, looking at her own sad self glued to Dipper’s side, and mourned the lack of peace in her life. Sure, Gravity Falls Weirdness she could handle, but when it interfered with her personal life? Well that was on a whole other level. Beside her, she noticed Dipper seemed to be thinking hard about something if his intense stare and foot tapping were anything to go off of.

Dipper had suspected his sister had been struggling the last couple of days and he knew that at least one cause of distress for her was missing her family. Then there was the way she had scampered off after Pacifica had told her she wouldn’t be able to work until the diner was fixed, most likely concerned for her wellbeing. With the holidays here too, he knew Mabel often put a lot of pressure on herself to be a great hostess of celebrations and events and well, this year’s festivities had been mixed with some interesting happenings to say the least. When he added the constant overhanging threat of Bill Cipher into the picture too, he understood that Mabel’s current worries, just like his own and Pacifica’s, were probably varied.

As he rubbed his eyes, he spoke up, “Maybe it’s a combination of things that’s affecting her.” He half-heartedly laughed, “Maybe we’re all just concerned for each other.”

“But whenever I tried to ask her that on Saturday, she deflected.” Pacifica informed him with a slight frown.

Dipper sighed, “Yeah you’re right that doesn’t work. I was just thinking about this, actually. She’s hardened up a lot since coming home so we can’t just go up to her and ask head on. We need a plan, a foolproof one.”

“Yeah but how would we-”

Pacifica never got to finish her sentence since Mabel came bounding into the living room and the couple had to abruptly shelve their conversation and act like they weren’t just conspiring a way to get her to come clean about her feelings. The sweater-wearing girl was holding a whip cream and rainbow sprinkle topped chocolate shake with little chunks of strawberry evenly deposited throughout, with one of the decorative red fruits on top. 

With a grin, she deposited the sweet drink into her roommate’s hands and chirped, “Once you’re done with that we can go straight back to Greasy’s and kick that sorry ghost’s ass,” like all was right in the world.

But Dipper saw the anxiousness behind her eyes and with the tenseness she carried herself with, like she was expecting to have to throw hands or run for her life at any second, and he added it to the evidence in the case he was building against his sister’s insistence that she was fine.

Pacifica sampled the milkshake and her mouth watered as the perfect flavor hit her tongue and she smiled, “Thanks Mabel, this is delicious.” There was a beat of silence as she took another long sip and continued, “Hey- I hope you know you don’t have to be fretting over me, Mabel.” Then she added to not draw any suspicion from her friend to herself, “Same goes to you, Dipper.”

Her boyfriend glanced at her questioningly, as if he was trying to tell her he was uncertain of where she was trying to take the conversation. She shot him a look that told him, ‘trust me’ and he nodded his head a tiny bit and played along and said, “Yeah I know, Paz. But I am worried and it’s been stressing me out.”

Pacifica offered him an apologetic look and murmured, “I’m sorry, hon. Mabel, how do you feel?”

The brunette girl dismissed her concern with a lazy wave of her hand. “Oh, psshaw, yeah I’m alright. I want to know how you are though, missy.” She paused and resumed in a quieter tone, “I know how much Greasy’s means to you.”

Despite herself, Pacifica found fresh tears coming to her eyes. Well this was just irritating, she was trying to help Mabel, not hold a pity party for herself. But she whimpered and said with her voice breaking, “Yeah, yeah it did mean a lot.”

Dipper pulled her closer and comforted, “And it still does, so we’ll make it right.”

“Which is why,” Mabel went on, “we’re going to kick that ghost out pronto so it stops making things worse.”

“Are you sure?” Pacifica inquired innocently, continuing to eat her dessert.

“Uh yeah, that ghost will be no more.” She stated, bringing a fist down and grinding against her open palm. 

“After we get permission from Susan, of course.” Dipper put in and took a drink from his girlfriend’s shake that she shared with him. She was right, it was delicious.

“No, I mean are you sure you know you don’t have to be worried for me?” The blonde prodded. Maybe being persistent was the name of the game here.

“I think I should be asking you the same thing.” The sweater wearing girl replied with a chuckle, praying her loved ones would falsely sense she was doing well. “Oh by the way Dipper, do you want your own straw?”

Nope, it seemed like this wasn’t working at all. They were going to have to try something else and be less direct. “Well, okay then. As long as you’re doing alright.” She sighed.

“I am.” Mabel lied.

Dipper raised a brow questioningly at her and then Pacifica nudged him before he could say anything and he looked down at her to see her nodding towards Mabel and then shake her head. A lightbulb went off in his brain and he understood her perfectly; no more questioning Mabel. “No, I’m good on the straw, thanks.”

Mabel snickered, “Yeah that’s what I thought, love birds.” She snapped her fingers and chirped, “Hey, why don’t I give Lazy Susan a call and persuade her to let us snoop on her private property to capture a ghost?” 

An excitement blossomed in Dipper’s heart but he slowed himself and inquired of his significant other, “Well Paz, do you feel up for a ghost hunt?”

“Sure, but maybe I should be the one to call Susan.” Pacifica gently corrected her while she shifted her weight to grab her phone from her side pocket. That was one of the things she loved about this uniform, the dress had pockets. She was sad and it made her want to do nothing but sit on this couch and lean on Dipper for the rest of forever but she wanted to make that diner as right as she could. For Susan.

Mabel parked herself on the T. Rex skull beside the couple and said evenly, “Great idea, then we can all talk to her.” 

Pacifica dialed the number and as the line rang, they all waited.

No stars were visibly twinkling overhead, hidden behind the dense cloud cover and steadily descending snow. The weather had rolled in quickly as the sun set and had begun to pour its frozen baggage down to the earth just as the mystery trio left the house. Now standing just outside of Greasy’s Diner, Mabel prepared a Light Spell and Dipper flicked on his flashlight as Pacifica opened the already ajar front door wider, the entire frame having broken and bowed earlier that afternoon. Waist deep and meter wide cracks had radiated out into the parking lot and sidewalk from the restaurant, which was the cause for the angle the building now unsteadily sat at. The whole place, which was technically a train car that sat on a track, had shifted off the rails and now had one corner diving into the earth. This made the floor now sit at a thirty degree upwards angle, with cracked floorboards stretching width wise down the middle and up the walls from the uneven pressure placed on it.

“Huh, this lock has been messed with. Come look.” Pacifica muttered to the twins, thumbing the face of the deadbolt.

“What do you mean?” Dipper inquired as he trotted over. 

“I lock up this door with Susan multiple times every week and now I’m just noticing the marks there. They definitely weren’t there on Saturday.” She informed him, pointing to the lock.

“Oh, wait, that's interesting… And the mystery just gets bigger.” He mumbled when he got a look for himself and saw the subtle scratch marks around the keyhole.

“That’s some real amateur work.” Mabel commented, unclenching her fist to lower the light her spell put off to a less blinding level.

“But by who?” Dipper thought aloud, tapping the end of the flashlight against his palm.

Pacifica offered him a shrug alongside Mabel because all three of them were at a loss for an answer.

Once the twins were inside, it was even more apparent at just how much damage had been done. Shattered plates and glasses, menus, and utensils had piled up against the bar since it was now the lowest point for them to gather, several windows had cracked from the broken foundation, and the jukebox was laying facedown on the ground like someone had forgotten about it and left it there to rot. Peeking into the kitchen, Mabel saw that none of the pots or saucepans were hanging from the ceiling like they should’ve been, but had scattered all over the place with ingredients that had been flung from fridges and shelves. To top it all off, in several places green, slimy ectoplasm had spontaneously sprung from the walls and oozed all the way down to the floor.

Unsurprisingly, the lights refused to come on when Dipper hit the switch and he clicked his tongue. “Yep, that seems about right.” He observed, taking Journal 3 out of his bag. Walking was difficult because the floor wasn’t exactly level but he was managing just fine, if only a little slowly, in his snow boots as he made room for Pacifica to come through the door.

“Oh, Susan’s poor restaurant.” Pacifica fretted, lowering her white polka dotted scarf to properly gape at the terrible sight. 

So many happy memories had been made here, not to mention the sense of self she had developed spending long hours doing manual labor for the first time ever. She could trace the critical pivot her life had made for the better down to two things, Dipper and her waitress job. Now one of them was badly damaged and required some serious healing. With a shiver, she hoped that never happened to the other she cared for so dearly.

“Uh-hu, this place is a mess.” Mabel noted as she managed to climb up into a booth, feeling much like the inside of the diner looked.

“I hate seeing it like this.” She complained with a frown, using the lip of the bar like the railing to a staircase to help herself inside.

The second Pacifica stepped foot past the door, a pale blue light glowed harshly from underneath the floorboards and the same, high pitched wail heard earlier assaulted their ears with its shriek. Shards of broken glass levitated into the air, a dangerous oversight none of the fifteen year olds had thought of when they walked in. A shudder ripped through the space like it had been kicked by a giant and Dipper and Pacifica both fell onto their knees as the lurch threw them off balance. Ectoplasm that had dried into the walls began to flow freely once more, making Mabel jump down from the booth she was perched in to avoid the slow moving stream.

“Paz, look out!” Dipper cried as the splintery remains of several ceramic plates flew towards her, grabbing her around the middle and pulling both of them down against the wall of the bar and the ground.

For avoiding a face full of glass, Pacifica earned a shooting pain in her jaw and the side of her head where they met their cover. Dipper was on top of her, shielding her from the flying projectiles that darted around almost randomly and she strained from her awkward position to make out what was happening above her and put a rest to the way her ribs were protesting being squished. She didn’t even have time to process the position she was in because then Mabel was there in front of both of them, her arms outstretched with her silver handbell in her hand. She was shouting something she couldn’t make out above Dipper’s anxious cries and that strange bellowing wailing that was making an awful lot of racket again. But what was clear to her in the next few  seconds was the great rushing of wind that came from inside the building that yanked on her hair and scarf and pinned much of the glass against the back wall.

Mabel yelled, “You two take cover behind the bar and get the silver mirror ready, I’ll keep our ghost friend in a tug of war for the dangerous flying objects.”

Well Pacifica didn’t need to be told twice and it seemed like Dipper didn’t either because he pulled her to her feet a little rougher than she would’ve liked and with her hand in his, he helped her climb over the bar. The floor was further away than it normally was because of the angle the diner was sitting at and finding it proved to be difficult for her petite self. So as she dangled over the edge of the countertop, watching Mabel twirl broken glass and utensils around herself in a tornado before further smashing them against the far wall, Dipper once again took her from around the middle and placed her on the floor. It felt like one of the shards of glass had pierced her heart watching her friend put countless dents in the wall whilst fighting off the threat and a fuming anger rose within her for the ghost causing all the damage.

Now Dipper was taking her hand again, guiding her underneath the bar, and she followed.

“I’m capable of moving myself, Dipper. Thanks though.” She informed him sharply, unzipping his backpack to find the silver mirror.

“It’s the next pocket.” He told her hurriedly, ignoring her comment.

“Ugh, that’s right.” She complained, zipping closed the wrong pocket and opening the right one. Her own reflection uneasily stared back at her as she handed the mirror to her boyfriend, which he took gratefully and gave her the flashlight instead.

“Alright ghost, show yourself so we can get you out of here.” Dipper shouted at seemingly no one, his eyes darting all around for signs of movement.

An angry, inhuman scream vibrated through the diner and a bubbling slimy goo rose up from the floor, making contact with Pacifica’s vintage fur boots. She screamed and scrambled out from underneath the bar to avoid the disgusting glob, gripping Dipper’s hand like they would never touch again if she let go. 

The young man hit his head on the underside of the counter when his girlfriend yanked him from their cover and he cried, “Ow!”

“Sorry babe, but we’re taking cover in the kitchen now until Mabel says it’s safe.” She exclaimed troubledly while she stepped up the wall and jumped through the window to the kitchen. 

“It’s very much not safe.” The brunette shouted at them and was then pelted with various haunted metal utensils. A stray fork managed to embed its prongs into her cloak and get itself twisted up in the fibers, tearing them.

“C’mon man, this isn’t funny. Come out from wherever you’re hiding.” Dipper demanded of the spirit while the doors to the ovens repeatedly clanged open and closed like they were possessed.

“What makes you think the ghost is a man? Why not a woman?” Pacifica barked, looking for a good place to hunker down with her boyfriend until her roommate gave the word. 

The kitchen was an absolute mess, with pots, pans, knives, and all other sorts of kitchen appliances wandering through the air like they had grown wings. None of the stocked food had been saved from the same fate. There were hamburger buns and sandwich ingredients bumping into sealed packages of flour and sausage, while the insides of dozens of cracked eggs turned into levitating slime hazards. Her flashlight brought an eerie atmosphere to the dark room, one that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. 

Dipper eyed a good space underneath the sink and led the both of them there while avoiding floating cooking equipment like he was traversing a three dimensional minefield. He reminded her, “Paz, you’re doing that thing where you get snappy when you’re upset.”

She had the decency to cringe and regret her previous statement and apologize, “You’re right, sorry,” while she ducked under the sink.

There was a heavy crash from the front of the restaurant, followed by Mabel bewilderedly yelling, “It threw the friggin’ jukebox at me. I’m fine though.”

Her boyfriend stayed standing even after she had scooted over and made room for him while the leaky pipes dripped onto her hair and she reached an arm out and tugged on his belt, inquiring, “What are you doing?”

“Looking for our ghost friend.” He replied and popped the top off of his Truesight Potion.

“Not on your own, you’re not.” She said matter-of-factly and unwedged herself from under the sink.

Her significant other rubbed his eyes once the elixir had been downed and shook his head while he winced, trying to take in the new powers. As she worriedly watched him, she realized he probably hadn’t heard her with how preoccupied he was with adjusting to his new vision. He cracked his eyes open and immediately had to lean against the counter for support.

“What’s wrong babe?” Pacifica fretted, grabbing ahold of his arm.

“It’s weird when your eyes and brain don’t agree on where you are.” Dipper gritted out with his eyes closed, fighting back the wave of dizziness that hit him. “I-I could see through the walls and the floor and it looks like I’m floating, but I know I’m not. I’m really dizzy.”

“Ok, j-just sit down for a minute then.” The blonde advised him.

“Yeah, okay,” he said breathily, slowly lowering himself to the ground and his eyes still shut tight.

Another crash came from the front of the building, one that sounded like the immense breaking of glass and Mabel laughed at the ceiling, “What’re you gonna do now that all your ammunition is outside? You can’t reach it, can you?”

Another jolt wobbled the building and the pots, pans, knives, and food items that had been lazily floating about in the kitchen up until this point crashed against the walls. A steak knife embedded itself into a wooden post of the counter, taking Dipper’s beanie with it and missing his scalp by an inch. Pacifica was hit in the gut with a saucepan and she keeled over in pain while a rolling pin hit her in the ankles. The electric mixer went crashing into the ceramic tile that served as the backsplash for the sink and remained stuck in the wall while a bag of flour tore itself open and turned the visibility of the room down to that of a chilly coastline thick with fog.

“Mabel!” She shrieked, “Don’t taunt the ghost!”

“Too late.” The sweater-wearing girl called back and swiftly hit the deck to avoid being skewered by sharpened metal. “Oh no, flying knives.”

In order to avoid coughing on all the flour particles, she raised her scarf back over her nose and snatched a frying pan to use as some sort of a shield for herself. Holding it close, her eyes moved all around to see where the next projectile would come from but with the low visibility, it was nearly hopeless. Things whizzed past around her, leaving narrow trails of clear air in their wake, but they were too fast to track.

“Paz, incoming to your right! At two o’clock.” Dipper cried where he sat on her left, pointing at seemingly nothing.

Immediately, she was glad to have listened to him since three paring knives came directly for her and she batted them away with the pan as if she was playing the deadliest game of baseball ever made. “What? How?” She questioned him dumbfoundedly.

“Truesight Potion, I think I’m getting the hang of it if the way the world has stopped spinning is anything to go off of.” He clarified, climbed to his feet, and hugged the silver mirror protectively against his chest. His eyes widened in alarm and he shouted, “Paz, five o’clock.”

The blonde readied her shield and just like Dipper had seen, a bread knife came tumbling end over end through the air and was deflected by her. The next random assault wasn’t even a second later and it was her boyfriend that grabbed the pan and yanked it over both of their heads without a word as a solid iron stock pot descended and dented the shield but kept them unharmed. Working together to keep each other safe while the flour settled to the floor, Dipper called out incoming threats while Pacifica swung at them. An entire minute passed like this until most of the knives had gotten stuck in the walls and their shield was more misshapen than a plastic bowl put in a microwave.

Dipper exclaimed, “Watch out there’s- no. Wait, what is that?” 

Breathing heavily, Pacifica cautiously lowered the frying pan when she found they were safe for the time being and followed his gaze straight through the kitchen window and to the backside of the bar where the ectoplasm had emerged and scared her back there in the first place. As her pulse gradually journeyed back to a regular level, she pondered what a strange thing it was to have just cheated death like it was just a regular Tuesday. That was just how her life was now she supposed and she was fine with it, liked it even. What she didn’t enjoy though was the insistence of every mystery to be intimately tangled up with her life.

“What? What is it?” She prodded.

He didn’t respond but wordlessly climbed out of the kitchen and squatted against the wall, his brows pinched in thought. The blonde followed after him, trying to make out what he was seeing in the ectoplasm soaked planks.

Mabel, who had just now finished jabbing the last dagger that dared assault her into the floorboards, hopped the counter with ease and stared at the same spot the other two were. “Ooh are we staring at the floor now? Can I join?”

“No there’s a… A skull hidden in the floorboards.” Dipper said puzzledly.

“What.” Mabel deadpanned, her smiling face briefly lapsing into honest fatigue and burnout. “Like someone’s remains?”

“A skull?!” Pacifica screamed.

Dipper quickly backpedaled, “Nonono, an animal skull, like a deer or something. Um, we need a hammer or a crowbar to pry these boards off.” 

“No need, Mabel’s on the case.” Mabel chirped, her expression returning to cheer while she tossed a stray cherry from on the floor into her mouth. Luckily for her, no one seemed to notice her slip up, or so she thought.

Pacifica’s heart twinged seeing her roommate keeping up a mask but her upper lip curled in utter confusion when the brunette jammed the pit of the fruit in between two slime gunked floorboards. It all made sense however when she cast a spell and a young cherry tree rose into the space, the trunk growing wide enough to yank the board from the foundation and reveal the white skull of a large, herbivorous animal tucked away in the narrow space under the floor. A singular bullet hole went straight in between the eyes, with the bone ending abruptly where they normally would meet antlers, like they had been sawed off. It glowed a haunting blue color from its eye sockets when the mortals laid eyes upon it and more green slime bubbled spontaneously from it.

“Oh this poor restaurant.” Pacifica mumbled upon seeing that the crimes committed against the building now included a tree growing inside it.

Dipper handed the silver mirror off to Mabel, took in a deep breath and plunged his hands straight into the goo, pulling the skull free. The thing made a terrible squelching noise that made Pacifica gag when it was ripped from the ooze and a ripple radiated out from the skull that shook their own bones. The same, hauntingly beautiful bellow cried out from inside the head as it rattled in Dipper’s grasp. 

The young man gasped as his arms shook, “So that’s where I’ve heard that noise before. It’s an elk call, this is an elk skull. Of course!”

“Yep, that skull is haunted for sure. Like there’s no chance it isn’t.” Mabel nodded self assuredly.

“So what do we do now?” Pacifica inquired. “We need to put it in the mirror somehow?”

“That’s right.” Dipper agreed, glancing at the mirror. He raised the bones high above his head and dictated, “We can all agree that we haven’t seen any ghost yet, but now I know why.”

With as much force as he could muster, he slammed the brittle skull down against the angled floor and stomped on it, cracking it from nose to eyes. Many overlapping, long drawn elk brays echoed from the bone as it violently sprayed blue light from the crack like a high pressured stream of lava shooting from a break in the earth’s crust. 

“They were in there all along.” He finished, watching a dozen or more sapphire blue cow elk leap from the crack in the skull and bound all around them, dancing in and out of the walls and bucking and kicking.

As if they were made of starlight, their translucent bodies twinkled and lit up the place with a soft blue glow and Pacifica found herself turning off the flashlight just so she could admire the beauty with her jaw dropped. Frantically, they raced back and forth, up and down, and through the teens’ bodies like they were desperate to make it somewhere that would never arrive. Their cries were angry and their running indignant, wailing to the world of some terrible woe that went untranslated to the humans’ ears. The skull rattled and shined brighter and more of the animals’ souls jumped into the diner, joining their companions with their agonized shrieks and fleeing feet. Windows shattered as they rammed through them, the knives that had been stuck to the floor flew into the ceiling with a vengeance, and the whole building moved suddenly and dipped lower into the earth.

“Uh, guys?” Pacifica said with much concern while she noticed the elk skull lifting off the ground.

A pale, ghostly head of flesh and fur began to materialize around the skull, as did a body behind it. An impressive rack of antlers grew from the nubs on top of the skull and a pair of floating, orb-like eyes appeared in the empty sockets, shining with an inferno inside them. It brayed furiously at the blonde girl, lowered its head so its weaponry was at goring level, and lunged forward with its front legs. With a cry of fear, Pacifica dove for the ground and out of the way of the charging undead to make it out of the way just in time. The elk’s skull hit the wooden wall hard and it spun around to face her once again.

Mabel jumped the counter, into the main room, and flashed her unicorn hair cloak at the buck. “Hey big boy, why don’t you come here?”

With a snort of irritation, the animal obliged and walked straight through the bar as his herd continued to gallop in a panic around him like the walls weren’t even there. He screeched out a high, echoing call of dominance and lowered his head once more, moving it from side to side to size Mabel up.

“Yeah that’s it, c’mon.” She encouraged him. Then she whispered to her brother, “Dipper, give me the mirror.”

The buck snorted furiously and charged, leaving the twins no time for discussion. Dipper heroically jumped the bar and planted his feet just in front of his sister, holding the mirror out in front of him with his jaw clenched. What would happen next, he didn’t know, but he prepared to be plowed over by seven hundred pounds of pure magical muscle. His limbs tensed and he shut his eyes tightly as his heart drummed in his chest and his breath froze in his throat, but the terrible moment never came. Simply, he felt a pushing weight against the handle of the silver mirror and opened his eyes to find the bull sliding inside just as the lumberjack ghost had that fateful night at the Northwest Manor. Once the male had been successfully captured, one by one the cows charged him and the same fate as their mate befell all them until eventually, there were no more ghosts left.

“Oh Dipper, that was so dangerous,” Pacifica fretted, too worried for her boyfriend to be concerned about being careful when traversing the angled bar. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him straight on the lips and added, “But super brave.”

“And totally awesome.” Mabel complimented with a grin, clapping him roughly on the back.

After his girlfriend let him go, the young man grinned and peered into the mirror to see nothing but two dozen or more of the deer bouncing off the confined black space; they were trapped. “Yep, I think you’re both right.” He said.

Just then, the mirror abruptly lurched in his hands and he nearly dropped it. He held it tighter and the item jerked again, forcing him to hug it tightly to himself.

“...Why is it doing that?” The sweater wearing girl questioned him, scratching her head.

“I don’t know, I’ve never held this many ghosts in a mirror before.” He said with a little difficulty, pulling hard to keep the mirror from flying out of his hands.

“Maybe we should follow it.” The blonde shrugged.

“Yeah, it’s pulling towards the forest. Maybe they want to go home?” Mabel pondered.

If Dipper had a hand to rub his chin with, he would’ve used it. But instead he kept his grip firm on the mirror and told them, “Well, ghosts do tend to want to be put to rest, so I don’t see why not. At least we know they won’t come back here if we take care of them.”

“They sure looked lost and frightened. I would be too if I was an animal stuffed in a skull like that and let out in the middle of civilization.” Pacifica frowned, thinking back to the last interaction she had with a ghost. She vaguely wondered if all undead spirits were afflicted in some way or another and that was why they couldn’t move on to, well, wherever it was someone went when someone died. 

“Well, let’s get going then.” Dipper said and took his first careful step to the front door, which was more like a climb than a walk at this point.

Pacifica rolled her eyes good naturedly and called out after him, “Hey, there’s a door out the back of the kitchen that’s closer, not to mention, downhill from here.”

“Hey do you want me to take that bro?” Mabel asked her brother, pointing at the mirror.

“No, I got it. For now.” He replied with a little strain in his voice as the reflective object pulled him over the window and into the kitchen.

“Oh, okay then.” The brunette frowned, kicking the loose board the skull had been hiding under. She paused to look at it and curiously picked it up and followed after the others.

“What’re you holding onto that for? It’s covered in slime.” Pacifica quizzed as they followed Dipper out the back door. Honestly Mabel could’ve decided to keep it just for the heck of it and it made her feel uneasy in her stomach knowing she would carry around something so revolting. “I’m not letting that thing in our room, just so you know.”

Mabel snorted and pointed towards the two ends of the piece of wood. “Because look, the board has two holes on each side when all the other ones only had one. That means this one must’ve been rehammered into place, so the skull was put there by someone inside the diner.”

“Shut. Up.” Pacifica groaned. “So my own coworkers are suspects now?”

“Well actually… yeah. Yeah they are. Sorry Paz.” Dipper said apologetically. Being driven deeper into the forest like an overly energetic dog taking their owner for a walk, he relayed to her as he barely kept the mirror in his hands, “I’d hold your hand to make you feel better if I could.” He blinked a few times and continued, “Huh, I can’t see through anything anymore. I don’t know if that’s because there’s no more walls or because the potion wore off.”

Mabel said something back to her brother but Pacifica wasn’t listening, she was too busy lamenting over the sick feeling that was settling weightily in her stomach. The possibility that even one of her own workmates could’ve been responsible for so much suffering didn’t sit right with her. In her heart, she wondered if maybe her father knew more than he was letting on, if their situation was the consequence he was talking about. It did seem rather suspicious that he was present both at the school the morning it closed and now at Greasy’s just before the first recorded haunting. That on its own wasn’t enough to be suspicious but what was raising her eyebrows was how happy he had been about the Water Elemental situation and how he had encouraged her to leave her job. Now she had been forced to quit work, just like her father had wanted… The thought entered her mind, should she confront him about it? She didn’t know, seeing his face again or hearing his voice sounded like an awful time. But what if that was required to solve this mystery, then what would she do? With a sigh, she prayed it wouldn’t come to that point. All she wanted was some peace but maybe that was too much to ask.

“Paz, stop!” Mabel cried, grabbing her around the shoulders and pulling her back. 

Pacifica blinked her thoughts from her mind to discover that she had nearly walked off the edge of the earth to face plant straight into a deep river. Just how far they had walked while she got caught up in her head, she didn’t know.

“Thanks Mabel, I guess I should pay more attention.” She half-heartedly smiled as the snow continued to come down.

“I just saved your life.” Mabel responded cheerfully. But then her face fell to a more neutral expression and she continued as she looked her up and down, “But on a more serious note, are you okay? Your whole vibe screams pouty right now.”

Pacifica raised a brow since she didn’t think she looked pouty, she was just crossing her arms because she was cold. But she couldn’t say in good faith that she was peachy so she stared out over the water and mumbled, “No, I’m worrying over who could’ve possibly put that skull in the diner. And who dumped Atl in the school.”

A pain shone through behind Mabel’s eyes but she chirped, “I’m sure it’ll get figured out, girl.” 

Beside them, Dipper was nearly tugged into the river by the mirror and Mabel cried, “Dipper, don’t make me save you too.”

“But they want to go across,” he gritted out, fighting against the trapped souls, “and we can’t follow them.”

The blonde shined the flashlight out across the ribbon of water, searching the bank for possible solutions, and frowned when she saw nothing so much as a significantly overhanging branch for them to use.  “I’m not seeing any way across this river at all.”

Dipper finally decided the best course of action in his situation was to carefully stand on the handle of the mirror and he did just that, freeing up his hands and allowing him to catch his breath and rest from the struggle. It bucked a little from underneath him but remained where it was. He informed the girls as he patted his potion belt, “I-I got two Water Walk Potions, one for the trip there and one for the trip back, and I could carry you two across.”

She agreed, “Ok, I think that should work. I can hold onto the mirror for you so you don’t fall and turn both of us into popsicles.”

Waving her hands out in front of her to get their attention, Mabel tried persuading them, “Yeah either that orrrrr, I can just lift the whole river up and we can walk across to the other side.”

Pacifica rubbed the back of her neck and gave her a sympathetic smile. “I-I don’t know about that one, Mabel. Remember last time you tried that?”

If he wasn’t so busy standing on top of the mirror that was trying to run away, Dipper would’ve patted his sister’s shoulder in a consoling manner. So instead he shrugged where he was and said softly, “You nearly passed out, sis. No offense, but I’d feel better if we just used my magic.”

The sweater wearing girl frowned and pressed, “Oh please? I really want to, I’ve been practicing my magic like crazy… You have no idea.”

To Mabel, this was the perfect opportunity to prove to herself that she was still strong, still improving, and still a worthy protector of her family. Maybe if she did this, it could bring some comfort back to her knowing what she was capable of. Nothing else was bringing her any peace at the moment, so she was fighting for what little scraps she could get right now.

The boy raised a brow, something about the way she was speaking told him there was more going on here than what she was telling them. Why was she so insistent on doing this? “Why do you want to so badly?” He asked simply.

The young woman looked at him like a kid who had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar and quickly fibbed with a beaming smile, “Oh y’know, just for funsies.” On the inside, a nervousness was rising in her chest because they could not know she was desperate to use this opportunity to prove herself to, well, herself.

Pacifica furrowed her brows and shook her head a miniscule amount. She stated, “Sorry girl, but ‘for funsies’ isn’t going to cut it for me,” adding quotations to the words with her fingers.

Dipper side-eyed her and then subtly flicked his vision to Mabel. She caught his gaze, knowing the wordless meaning behind his facial expression. hHer friend was once again trying to cover up whatever it was that was getting to her. She nodded faintly, signaling to him that she understood his message but not obviously enough to get Mabel’s attention.

The sweater-wearing girl sighed and kicked a stray pebble into the cold, blue liquid, “Oh alright, Dipper go ahead and carry us across.” 

An eager grin appeared on the boy’s face, but one that had an undertone of concern for his sister, and he drank the deep blue elixir. After inhaling and exhaling a deep breath, he handed Pacifica the mirror and turned towards the river, sizing it up. “Okay, well I’ve never used this one before, so I-I guess it would be good to go test it first? Wish me luck guys.” 

Without another word, he swiftly covered the few steps to the bank of the flowing water and carefully brought a foot down on top of the liquid and put a slight weight onto it. Honestly, Dipper was surprised to see his boot remain on the surface and not sink like normal. With an excited smile, he turned back to make sure the girls were watching what was happening and his other boot moved from the frozen dirt to the water. A small gasp of amazement left his lips when he saw himself standing on top of the liquid instead of sinking to hit the smooth stones a foot below.

“Are you guys seeing this right now?” He laughed.

Growing increasingly frustrated as she fought the pulling of the mirror, Pacifica responded, “Yeah that’s cool babe but can we hurry up? Is it safe or not?”

To test her friend’s question, Mabel decided the best course of action was to leap onto her twin’s back while shouting, “Surprise attack!” and he stumbled further out into the river to keep himself upright but he was able to hold her and keep his feet and her body above the water. 

“Well that’s definitely one way to do it.” He announced and adjusted her weight on his backside so he could get her in a proper piggyback.

“It sure is, now mush river boy, mush. Forwards across the water.” Mabel cried, pointing dramatically to the far bank.

“Okay, okay, I’m going Mabel.” He chuckled and made a few more careful steps out across the body of water. When all was well, he sped up and easily carried her to dry land once more.

“Thanks bro, you’re the best water taxi to ever grace this land.” The brunette girl told him sweetly.

Dipper laughed softly and questioned as he went towards Pacifica, “Isn’t that a ferry?”

“Sure, you can be a fairy too.” Mabel appeared to shrug easily. 

On the inside, she was devastated that her family hadn’t let get the chance to prove her strength to herself. She watched Dipper carry Pacifica across bridal style while they were trying and failing to not fall apart into blushing messes, which normally would’ve been just so adorable it would make her fall to pieces, but now it only brought a faint smile to her lips. 

For the young woman was too busy convincing herself, I am strong enough, I am strong enough…

“Very cute, love it.” The unicorn cloak wearing girl said with less Mabel enthusiasm than usual, which the pair pretended to not pick up on by grinning back at her and kissing one another as if all was well.

This got a small laugh out of Mabel, to which Pacifica almost asked if she was okay, but decided against it. She knew her roommate was stubborn, especially after coming back out of the portal, hardened by years of rough survival. Just as Mabel was being tactical about avoiding showing her feelings, she would be strategic about getting to the bottom of them. But she was pulled from her thoughts when the mirror thrust so hard, it almost knocked her off her feet and all three of them followed it up the side of the bank and through the few birches and into a lightly snow dusted meadow.

The elk inside the mirror brayed in a tortured manner and kicked against the glass as she and the twins walked out into the middle of the open space, near a lumping of snow covered rocks. But as they got closer, and Mabel’s Light Spell gave her a clearer look at things, Pacifica went ice cold. Those weren’t rocks at all, they were the strewn corpses of two dozen elk, just sitting out to rot. From where she was standing, she could see bullet holes in the bodies of many already. A wave of sorrow crashed into her from behind, rendering her hands and feet numb and her eyes glistening with moisture. The entire herd was dead.

Needless to say, she didn’t even feel the mirror slip from her grasp, but she did hear the cracking of glass afterwards and the souls of the animals leaping free to prance about in the air and in the meadow around them. The big bull left last, his cracked skull bright like the moon against the backdrop of the cloudy sky. 

Crouched sorrowfully next to the decapitated corpse of the buck, Mabel mourned, “No wonder they’re angry, somebody just killed them all and left their bodies here to rot.”

Dipper slowly lowered his head and shook it, the way he did when he was upset. “No other animal has even touched them. Food is scarce in the winter, the forest should be all over this free food, but it’s not.”

The big elk snorted loudly beside him, as if he agreed with the twins’ words. He watched his females meander about in the meadow, some trying and failing to browse on the snow powdered grass because of their ghostly form while others leapt around in the sky or laid down to rest near their bodies.

Eyes full of heartbreak, Pacifica gingerly approached the buck and petted the only corporeal part of him, his skull. “I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve this.”

The bull snorted gently, accepting her apology.

“It makes me think whatever process was used to cram them into the skull cursed their bodies. Now no one wants to eat them.” Dipper went on, rapidly recording their findings on a fresh page of his journal.

“What a terrible waste.” Pacifica grimaced.

“Dipper, you said ghosts are looking to be put to rest, right?” Mabel questioned him and took her handbell from her pocket.

“Yeah, why?” He responded.

The girl continued, “So wouldn’t burying them achieve that then? So they can move on peacefully?”

He chewed on the end of his pen in thought, pacing around in a little circle. Eventually he said, “I don’t see why not.”

Mabel nodded in a satisfactory way, and gazed at the bull. He had gone the most quiet she had seen him so far, which she took as his way of telling her yes. “Perfect, I can just use some good old Axolotl magic to break up this frozen ground and bury them then.”

“Wait, hang on. I’m going to get to the bottom of this first.” Pacifica announced and walked right up to the slaughtered animal bodies. 

“And I’ll help.” Dipper put in, grabbing her hand and looking for clues with her.

The blonde noticed a pattern in the spread of the bullet holes, most came from the same direction and without much consistency on the location of the wounds, like someone had completely just mowed them down without any thought of preserving their resources. The injuries on a few didn’t match her theory, most likely since those creatures had managed to run a little before keeling over. She knew this from the times her father had taken her quail and fox hunting and now she was surprised this knowledge was coming in handy for once.

“These would have to be from a large caliber rifle, semi-automatic of course.” Pacifica followed the direction that the projectiles had come from and frowned slightly when she saw just how far the treeline was, at least two hundred yards away. “These were taken out from a decent range, whoever got them was a good shot and had the resources to do so.” 

Beside her, Dipper was grinning, impressed with her detective skills. “Shall we follow the clues then, private eye Pacifica?” He asked, gesturing towards the forest with his flashlight.

“Absolutely.” She responded, her ears pinkening a little and together they started for the birch trees. If they could find the location the shooter had taken aim from, then they could find bullet casings and discover which type of gun they had used. From there, it was simple detective work to narrow down their suspects.

The noisy cracking of wood and the breaking of frozen ground came from behind them and Pacifica and Dipper looked back to see Mabel loosening the dirt with magically grown roots, steadily using them to dig a mass grave for the herd. It looked like incredibly hard work and she was glad her job entailed taking a leisurely night time stroll into the forest. As the bodies slid into the pit and Mabel used her living, wooden extensions of herself like limbs to cover them in earth, the spiritual, shining blue cow elk  circled around them and bounded one final time into the ground to finally be put to rest, just as they had proposed would happen. The old bull watched his herd solemnly, their joyful leaping satisfying him. When none but him remained, he nodded gratefully to each of the humans that had helped him so much and with one last hauntingly beautiful bray, he jumped into the pit and was laid to rest as his bones were covered in earth.

Pacifica’s fur boots softly crunched two inches of snowfall with each step while she continued on her way with Dipper. While she felt a little ember of warmth returning to her cold heart, she told him, “That was really pretty, actually. I’m glad we could help them move on.” It was nice to know she had been helpful tonight and had nearly made her forget about all her troubles. 

“Me too. Now it’s time to find the perp and bring the elk justice too.” He smiled softly and ducked into the pale barked, bare trees with her.

“Uh-hu, poaching animals is next level cruelty.” She said matter-of-factly, a satisfied feeling gently cleansing her earlier unease and giving her some peace from the fact that she had been part of making a bad situation better.

After another thirty seconds or so of silence, she stopped and turned back to face the meadow, only to see Mabel stomping into the trees. She was slightly winded from her run over but seemed unbothered by it and quizzed, “Made it. So we’re looking for bullet casings right?”

“Yeah, keep a lookout for anything brassy shining under the snow.” Pacifica informed her and started her search, gently sweeping the crystalized, frozen water in front of her with her boot to move around any loose objects on the surface of the forest floor. This should’ve been far enough she supposed, there was enough cover here that the elk wouldn’t have seen the shooter but sparse enough to still get all those shots off.

“Got it.” Mabel chirped and quickly cast a Water Spell.

All the fallen snow thirty paces in all directions was rolled out of the way, revealing many rocks, dead leaves, sticks, and something shiny not too far away near a large birch. No, actually it was a whole lot of small somethings. An excitement quickening her heart rate, Pacifica trotted over to the yellow tinted metal since solving a mystery felt great and she understood why Dipper loved it so much. They were one step closer to figuring it all out and their next clue was this pile of bullet casings. She plucked one from the group and the blonde turned it over in her palm to scrutinize it. Her heart stopped.

Oh no, oh nononono. She was going to be sick. Pacifica leaned heavily against the tree, her breathing picking up speed and her hand shaking. That couldn’t be possible, but it was, and now her world was falling apart once more. Just when she was crawling back to her feet life had decided to kick her in the ribs yet again and it was painful, burning her chest with panic and fear. The custom engraving on the expensive casing told her all she needed to know. It was the Northwest seal; her father had killed the elk.

The twins were there on either side of her now, pelting her with questions and concern but no words could leave her gaping mouth. Her lips felt like they were rubber and her tongue a stone and all she could do was point to the other casings as she tried to get her spiraling mind under control. Her father had done this, he had deliberately sabotaged her workplace and slaughtered a whole family of majestic animals and chained their souls to a skull to do so. It was a travesty, no, an atrocity.

Mabel quickly grabbed one of the casings and fell to her knees when she read what was on it, completely taken aback by the mind shattering news. She bit her tongue so hard it drew blood to distract herself from these new, weighty emotions that piled onto her already breaking back; she couldn’t cry now. Maybe she could later in the shower when there would be no one to hear her.

Then Dipper saw the evidence before him and he threw the casing as far as he could and spat hatefully, “I knew it.” 

Pacifica slowly slid down the tree with her back to it, surely dirtying her outfit in the process but she didn’t care. Her face was numb but her heart was wailing, beating so loudly it could’ve been trying to escape her chest to run away. Now she knew her father would never win dad of the year anytime soon, but he just kept surprising her with how low he could stoop. Then suddenly, it all made sense. No wonder he had been there the morning the school flooded, it must’ve all been a part of his plan. He had orchestrated it, he was the one who placed the Water Elemental there and then he had stuck around to admire his handiwork, just like he had been waiting for her yesterday morning at Greasy’s to see if his ghost trick was going to work. That must have been why the ghosts only caused a racket while she was there, they were put there by her father specifically to target her. It was obvious to her why he had insisted she leave her job and care not for her old school, he was ensuring they went out of her reach anyways. He, just like Bill, was going out of his way to destroy everything she loved because he wanted power over her.

“I-I can’t believe this…” She managed to breathe out as a tear of fury and devastation flowed down her cheek. “H-how could he? The Water Elemental must’ve been him too, just l-look at the evidence.”

Mabel stared at the ground, thinking back to the conversation she had with Dipper in the flooded high school on who could’ve been responsible for that situation, the one that had been cut short by Atl trying to speak with them. It made sense to her now that Preston had been the one to place the elemental there. If he could kill a herd of elk and hide one of their cursed skulls in the restaurant, then he most certainly could capture and dump a baby Water Elemental in the school. But that raised the question, how exactly had Mr. Northwest known how to bind the souls of the elk to the bone in the first place? That seemed more like something Grunkle Ford or Dipper would be able to do.

Trying very hard to contain his anger, Dipper softly sat beside Pacifica and took her into his arms, allowing her to rest her head just under his chin. The gears turning in his head, a look of understanding came to his face as he stacked up the evidence and realized she was right. “I’m so sorry, Paz. Your father keeps trying to destroy everything you hold dear and that’s not fair to you.”

“Christmas is in four days and he does this?” She sniffled softly, her voice bewildered.

Still kneeling in front of them, something in Dipper’s words snapped Mabel all the way back to Dimension 52. It was like she was there sitting on that wicker couch with the oracle all over again, the ancient woman’s silky voice hitting her like she had been plowed over by a train. I prophesize a known and unknown threat combining with the intended destruction of all you hold dear in coming months .

This was it. That was the unknown, the other threat. The very something that had contributed to her losing her sleep and peace. It made too much sense, Cipher was a known threat to her when that prophecy had been given, but Mr. Northwest wasn’t, and that made Dipper’s words prophetic. The both of them were trying to tear Pacifica down and catching a whole lot of things she herself cared about in the crossfire, that must’ve been what was happening. The realization should’ve brought her closure but all it did was make her legs weak and her stomach tie itself up in knots. A cold gust of wind blew through the forest but Mabel was numb to it because now she knew Preston Northwest wasn’t just some guy that had been a thorn in her side, he was part of this prophecy too. The stakes had been raised and he wasn’t to be taken lightly any longer, he was a threat to her just like Cipher was. But what was she to do with this and how could she be prepared? The Prophecy Spell, she knew it. That was her only hope, the sole dim beacon of a search light in the distance of this dark and dreary wilderness of anxiety and fear she was lost in. Only now, she didn’t know if she was even strong enough to go towards it. So much time she had spent wandering these desolate woods and now she was weak from starvation, hardly able to keep herself from crumbling to dust. 

Mabel was broken from her depressing thoughts when Pacifica’s sobbing hit her ears and she scooted closer to her, resting her head on Dipper’s shoulder while he cooed quiet reassurances to her and she hoped being close to her friend would get her comforting message across. She felt guilty for not making herself a bigger part of their conversation and for not having any good advice to give. Right now she was just devoting so much of her own energy to keeping herself from falling apart into a crying mess on the floor from the weight of the whole world that she couldn’t authentically be her usual spunky self. But there was no kind voice within her to tell her it was going to be okay or to be gentle with herself this time. It was locked up and trapped under a pile of anxiety that sat on her chest like an elephant, saturating her every thought now. That stupid prophecy, that was the source of it all. 

Dipper held both of the girls tightly, wondering why their night had taken a turn such as this. He had been hopeful for the better ever since Pacifica had taken a liking to putting together the puzzle, but now she saw the full picture and it wasn’t pretty. Things were looking rather bleak now, he had to admit. But it was also scary being up against a full grown adult when it was just the three of them. Still, they weren’t alone, they had one another and together, they surely would see the light of day again. As corny as it was, it brought him some comfort, not that it eased his awfully persistent anxiety any. A part of him wondered if his plucky optimism was too much but when he looked down and saw how downhearted his family looked, he realized it was probably going to be needed. 

“...Do you want to talk to your dad and let him know how you feel?” He tried cautiously asking his girlfriend.

Pacifica scrunched up her face in anger. She never wanted to see his stupid face ever again but she knew she would have to, needed to even, to properly get her feelings out of her head. “I should. But I can’t, not until I’ve composed myself. If I’m going to face him it’s not going to be a snotty mess covered in dirt…” She buried her head in her hands and continued with a watery voice, “I’m so sorry you have to deal with this. I’m sorry Dipper, I’m sorry Mabel.”

“Hey shh, don’t be sorry.” The young man whispered as the snow continued to silently fall all around them, stroking Pacifica’s hair.

“It’s ok.” Mabel mumbled, fighting valiantly to keep her voice steady.

The blonde’s vexation turned to heart ache and she hugged Mabel underneath the old birch tree. That sweet girl didn’t deserve any of this, none of them did really, but she knew she was already hurting and this wasn’t helping her at all. This was a blow to the face for all three of them. “We should be happy, celebrating and stuffing our faces full of Christmas cookies. Not like this, not like a sad pile of puppies abandoned in the woods.”

“Yeah, which is why…” Mabel started, springing to her feet, “which is why… Um. Why we should… have a hot chocolate making contest at the shack,” she finally thought. Yeah, that would be good. Maybe that could distract them for the time being while she tried to not have a melt down.

“Yeah, in our half heated, half powered house.” Pacifica snapped sarcastically but stood anyway. She was cold and she was miserable. The thought of being outside and away from the comfort of the Mystery Shack any longer made her want to give up and lay down to let the snow cover her, never to rise again. She needed refuge immediately so she would have to get moving if she didn’t want to freeze. 

An unnatural shiver went up Mabel’s spine as the moonless night darkened even further and her eyes darted all around, looking for where Cipher was watching form. Her breath froze in her throat when she realized they were standing in a birch forest and she started walking just a little faster. 

It seemed like she wasn’t the only one who felt the demon this time around though, since Dipper shuddered and said in a low voice, “Guys, Bill’s here. I can feel him."

“Well I don’t want to talk to him. I’m never going to talk to him again.” Pacifica hissed venomously and raced out into the meadow. She wasn’t going to let him laugh at her misery and leaving the trees he peeked through was how she planned to do that, even if she wanted nothing more than to burn down the whole forest if it meant it destroyed his peep holes. 

“Yeah you hear that, Bill? Go take a long walk off a short pier.” Dipper shouted into the woods. “It doesn’t matter what you want, you’re getting nothing from us.”

Mabel had everything to say to him but only managed to whisper, “Bastard,” her mind a cyclone of unease. 

Mabel stared at the ceiling until four in the morning, paralyzed at the thought of falling asleep. She didn’t want to know what she could see, what would happen next. Because that was how her nightmares worked apparently, they were sneak peaks at what terrible future awaited her. Using this logic, maybe if she just didn’t sleep, no more visions would come and nothing bad would happen. Laying in her bed, she attempted to cast the Prophecy Spell in a hushed voice over and over for hours until her hands cramped from holding her bell and drawing hundreds of symbols. A loud, frustrated noise escaped her mouth and she quickly shut it, trying not to awaken Pacifica. If Modoc had cast this spell to put an end to his dreams and save his loved ones, then why the hell couldn’t she? Maybe if she saw a whole future instead of two seconds every few nights, she wouldn’t be going insane right now, she thought bitterly. And maybe if the Axolotl wouldn’t have given her these nightmares in the first place, she would’ve been fine right now.

Too exhausted to keep her arms up for any more attempts at magic, she laid them to their sides. It wasn’t too much time after that her sleep deprived mind pulled her under against her will and brought her to her dreams.

There she was, in the control room of the basement, staring out at the humming, idling portal, its interior dark. Dream Mabel observed her other self from above lift her arm over the red button to turn on the portal, her doppleganger’s face stony and eyes sparkling on the verge of tears. There was no way to reach out or cry to stop her from lowering her hand and it fell to the button, the whole world being swallowed up in black.

Chapter Text

Ford had been caught by surprise. So had Stan really, but he was the one that had stopped telling his story about fishing with Dipper and Pacifica last summer to yell and point out the fact that they weren’t alone on top of that jagged, snow dusted mountain peak of black and purple stone. The scientist had been struggling to get his Multipurpose Portaling Device to connect the portal they were at with the main Portal Hub of the capital city in Dimension 2613-B, the home of Oracle Miquiztli and their next destination. As such, he hadn’t exactly been keeping his head on a swivel when he was muttering curses to the elicit machine that was refusing to function. 

But Stan had and now he was tugging on his shoulder and urgently telling him, “Ford, Ford look, we got company.”

Ford did peer in the direction his twin was eyeing and he was correct, there was a dark figure approaching from not too far down the mountain spine and by the looks of it, they were massive. He covered his portaling device with the sleeve of his sweater and decided he would try connecting to a different portal after this newcomer was handled and muttered, “Damn, we’re in the middle of nowhere so I highly doubt this stranger is good news to us.”

Stan stomped his numb feet in an attempt to warm them and raised his scarf a little higher as he gazed out at the horizon above the clouds. His overworked knees and hips didn’t appreciate this movement and they sorely complained, which was fair, they had just climbed a mountain. They were so high up, no other peak but the one they stood on was visible above the condensed water and it made the shining sun reflect off their tops and hurt his eyes. It was a hauntingly beautiful sight from just a singular strip of bare black and purple rock, with vertical cliffs on either side, stretching for miles like the spine of the world itself atop the mist. 

He whistled, “You’re tellin’ me. You’re the only other living thing I’ve seen here till just now. Let’s just hope our buddy decides to mind his business.”

Ford eyed the interloper wearily as they came within earshot and continued, “I don’t think that’s going to be the case, Stanley.”

The new arrival was a Doeminix, they recognized him as. A member of the species that ruled the Multiversal Alliance and governed over nine thousand dimensions. His deer-like appearance and dark grey skin gave him away instantly, as did the glaringly obvious observation that he was twice their height. He was still as gangly as the rest of his kind with angular hips and a short, inwards tucking tail. On top of his head was an imposing rack of antlers not dissimilar to a moose’s but they grew vertically from the back of his skull as a singular, fused structure. What set him apart from all the others though was the bulky, oversized flamethrower he carried in both hands and a number of tough, old scars that decorated his body.

He stopped fifteen paces short of the duo and briefly sized them up before speaking to Ford in a low, gravely voice, “Not many people escape the state-of-the-art prison of Dimension 3-A Stanford, but you’ve already proven yourself a dangerous man. But I’m even more dangerous,” he took a step closer and his expression was deathly serious when he patted his weapon and said, “and I won’t hesitate to have to prove that. I’m taking you in.”

The old scientist frowned disappointedly and he tried reasoning with the man by stating, “You’re a bounty hunter. Leave us be, there are many easier targets than me for you to make a living from.”

“Bounty hunter? What, how’d you find us?” Stan asked irritatedly. 

“It’s not that hard my friend, when the Council alerted me that Stanford Pines of all people had escaped and was on the loose, it was as simple as using my wits and following his scent.” He chuckled darkly at Stan, tapping the side of his head. 

“How cryptic.” Ford replied as he narrowed his eyes. Subtly, he slipped his hands into his sleeves and began to tinker with the settings on his Multipurpose Portaling Device once more, hoping he could get the portal just behind them to open to their destination and ditch this antagonist before a fight went underway.

The hunter’s eyes flashed with confusion when he realized one of the two people he had been sent to apprehend looked nothing like her description and in fact, looked rather like Stanford instead. He looked back and forth between them and prodded, “Wait, where’s the girl?” 

“Safe at home, right where she should be.” Stan said gruffly and crossed his arms, partially because he thought it would make him look tougher against his bigger foe and partially because he was freezing up there exposed to the icy wind.

“No matter, I wasn’t really here for her anyway.” He scoffed. The hunter then turned to Ford and his face deepened to a hateful scowl. “You though… I’ll get no satisfaction seeing the numbers in my account increase when I put you away, only from knowing I’ve locked you up. I’ve seen what you’ve done to other bounty hunters, those good and honest people who will never get their lives back, my own kin.”

“I’ve done what I had to do.” Ford barked. It was incredibly difficult to keep the pain of remembering the various times he had taken life from showing on his face but he managed to keep his expression neutral.

Before anything else could happen, the Staff of Light that hung off of the sweater wearing man’s pack flashed white and shortly after, the alien pulled the trigger and a stream of roaring fire shot from his sleek gun. The flare of the flames, combined with the light of the staff, nearly blinded the brothers and they scrambled to take cover and crouched down low behind a nearby rock. An uncomfortable heat reached around the stone and sizzled the air about them as the twins frantically scanned their surroundings for a way out. When he had the displeasure of looking straight down the cliff beside him, an idea popped into Stan’s head and he took Mabel’s crossbow from the side of his backpack and into his hands.

“Hey!” Stan barked angrily from behind the rock they had taken cover at, “Listen up wiseguy, that’s my family you’re talkin’ to an’ I’m the only one around here that can insult him, capiche?” Then he whispered to Ford, “Just follow my lead, Sixer. I’m gonna surprise attack ‘em.”

While Stan embedded the pronged metal end of the grappling hook deep into a crack in the earth, the scientist nodded, drew his blaster, and said, “Understood.”

The bounty hunter cut off the fire to slowly saunter closer to the rock, shoot it an unimpressed look, and inquired of Stan, “Who even are you? Are you his clone?” He briefly paused to skim the wanted poster of Ford he kept on his belt, which the scientist used to blindly fire off a shot around the boulder and missed, and the hunter added, “You’re his clone, aren’t you? Well it doesn’t matter, you can’t be anyone of worth if you’re following this man around. Why don’t you leave his side and make someone proud for a change, huh?”

Stan rolled his eyes while pretending this nameless jerk hadn’t just unknowingly taken a jab at his insecurities and hid it by making himself busy, which to him meant jumping off the cliff with a decent portion of slack on the grappling hook line and swinging around to behind their adversary. His hiking boots skimmed the surface of the clouds as he swung and all his strength went towards keeping his sweaty hands from letting go of the foregrip and stock. When his upswing came to an end and his legs caught the edge of the mountain top once more, he thanked his lucky stars he was able to pull himself onto solid ground again.

He found his footing and barked at the alien, “Quit it with the morality crap, would ya?”

The bounty hunter whirled around to see Stan loading the crossbow with one of Mabel’s old sparkling arrows from the leather quiver he still kept with him everywhere. He promised he’d get the items back to the girl and he intended to uphold his word, even if he had to give them some use first. The Doeminix raised his flamethrower with a growl and sent a jet of burning fuel straight the human’s way as his eyes flashed with anger.

The hunter spat, “I’ll have you know I took on an oath to uphold the law of the Multiversal Alliance. My father is the warden of the prison that holds the most dangerous criminals in the entire Multiverse and I will make him proud by bringing Stanford back to him.” 

Ford shot out from around the boulder and fired at their enemy, only to hit him in the horn and do nothing more than cause him to stumble slightly. The sweater wearing man eyed him sharply and took a calculated risk with his insult, “Your father couldn’t keep us in or out of prison and I doubt you even have half that capability.”

Stan sent the arrow flying as a heated anger rose within him. It hit and dented the bulky tank on the Doeminix’s back but didn’t do any immediate harm to him so he snarled, “And there it is, you wanna make your pa proud. Whoopty freakin’ doo.” He tried to brush away the old, tired guilt that also accompanied his resentment for this guy but Ford caught his eye as he dove to avoid another wave of flames and it only grew larger. He could hear his father’s voice now like he was a teenager all over again, telling him how much of a liar and a cheater he was, doing nothing but riding on his brother’s coattails. How he was a good for nothing kid that had never come back with the millions he should’ve made and because of that, his pa hadn’t even come to his own funeral. He had let his father down, he feared he was letting Ford down, and this flamethrower wielding jerk wasn’t helping any. 

A brisk gust of wind rolled over the mountain top and the bounty hunter aimed his flamethrower at Stan and sneered, “I’m taking Stanford in. You’ll regret it if you continue to get in my way.”

Stan slotted another arrow into the crossbow and growled, “Oho so what? The big scary guy has a big, scary gun, who cares? You think I haven’t fought fellas twice as mean as you before, bambi? You’re nothin’.” 

As a flame flared to life at the end of the barrel and the smell of gas infiltrated the air, the Doeminix dictated in a dangerously even tone, “We’ll see.”

The younger of the twins wasn’t able to get another shot off due to the blast of fire that was currently barreling towards him so he hit the deck and used the uneven, jagged terrain to his advantage and hid himself in the eroded space behind a splintered, violet streaked onyx rock. He found himself patting out a few pesky flames that had begun chewing on Mabel’s crossbow and he set the singed thing aside and donned his knuckle dusters instead, not wanting to further damage the thing of great sentimental value to her. As the Dominix forced him to retreat, Ford charged forwards and shot his blaster again, this time hitting the creature in the knees and sending him sprawling. But whatever hide covered their foe was thick and he swiftly regained his footing to spin around and redirect his inferno to Ford. The Staff of Light again lit itself as the danger approached but its warning fell on blind eyes and the scientist wasn’t nimble enough to get away in time. His blaster’s metal stock was heated when the flames hit it and burned him, causing him to involuntarily drop his weapon. But the unfortunate turn of events didn’t stop there, for as the pain in his hands registered in his brain, Ford realized his hands and forearms had caught fire. 

He briefly attempted to put the chemical reaction out by snuffing it out against his sweater but the combustion was stubborn and held on to shortly devour his sweater sleeves and reach his arms. In his panicking mind, a singular solution came to him and he decided to paradoxically embrace the flames and engulfed his own hands in an icy, blue blaze that traveled up his arms to his shoulders and handed over the burning into his control. The searing pain on his knuckles and wrists stopped and was replaced with a chill, ghostly sensation as Cipher’s fire graced his fists.

Peeking out from behind the rock, Stan cheered, “Yeah Sixer, now you’re fightin’ fire with fire!” He was rewarded by another downpour of flame and had to duck to the earth once again. 

The Doeminix looked over at the old scientist with a look of disgust and sniggered, “Oh that’s right, I forgot you had a history with Bill Cipher. It’s a shame I can’t say it’s surprising in the slightest, no one involved with him is anything more than a deplorable disgrace to their family.” 

Ford dramatically took a step back as if the insult had been a physical hit and he scowled. He really wanted to say he was better than to get offended at the words of a stranger, but this opponent was hitting him where it hurt. “You’re all talk and no fight. Why don’t you prove me wrong?” He snapped, raising his fiery fists. A part of him very much wanted to just atomize this fool with the Quantum Destabilizer but he knew it was more important to conserve its fuel so he kept it tied to his pack instead of in his hands. If he had been paying much attention, he would’ve seen the Staff of Light starting to glow again.

“Fine then.” The hunter fumed and he shot another stream of sticky, burning fuel straight at his target.

But as Stan hopped out from around his rocky shield, he noticed the magical artifact flash its warning just before an attack was made and a lightbulb lit up in his head. The mountain ridge they had unfortunately had the displeasure of battling on was only ten paces wide at the most, perfect for losing your footing and falling miles to the ground below. So seeing that the deer guy was too busy trying to blast Ford with fire, he raced up to him and planted a good solid pummel into his gut, which was only as high as he could reach.

The Doeminix grunted and bent over in pain and quit firing his weapon long enough for Stanford to stop shielding himself with his arms and see what was happening. A savage grin came to his lips when he saw his brother get a good hit in on the hunter’s jaw. The bounty hunter was fighting back though and he hit Stan right in the shoulder with the barrel of his weapon and the human didn’t hesitate to retaliate by wrapping his hands around it and pulling.

“Sixer, Sixer flashbang this sucker!” Stan yelled while he started a tug-of-war for the business portion of the flamethrower only a meter from the edge of the dropoff.

Ford blinked owlishly, “Flashbang…? Oh!” He cried with realization, grabbing the Staff of Light off his backpack. When he did so, the flames that danced up his arms were swiftly extinguished. But now wasn’t the time to study the implications of that so he told Stan, “close your eyes,” and slammed the end of the staff against the rugged ground. 

Just as it was supposed to, the six segments along the shaft of Staff of Light flared with eye burning brightness and made the bounty hunter yelp in pain and involuntarily shut their eyes, precisely as Stan had planned. He gave their enemy another punch to the stomach for good measure and really put his shoulder into pushing him back to the lip of the cliff, which Ford joined in on. Feeling his knees and hips protesting their heavy usage again, Stan put in on final push with his twin as the Doeminix struggled to fight back. The alien reached for and pulled the trigger to his weapon as a last ditch failsafe, even if it meant scorching himself, but it was too late. He was already falling.

The twins watched him only long enough to see him disappear through the clouds and then turned back around to retrieve their weapons. Stan breathed a sigh of relief knowing they were safe with just the two of them on the mountain top once more and breathed in a large lungful of the freshest air around, enjoying the peace and quiet once more. The single, yellow sun still shone overhead, making the clouds glow radiantly as they stretched forever into the horizon and he smiled faintly at their beauty.

He sauntered over to the crossbow, briefly looked it over, and blew the dust off it before saying, “Hoo boy, I think that guy really hated us. What a lyin’ jerk.” In the depths of his mind, he told himself to pay no attention to the words of a bitter now dead guy but ouch, he had really struck a nerve.

“Yes, good riddance.” Ford grumbled while he holstered his gun, not allowing himself to dwell on the poisonous words that had been said to him for another second. He knew his mind would start to spiral if he did. Then he smiled and added, “You did well back there, Stan.”

“Aw shucks, it was nothin’ to sneeze at.” Stan dismissed with a wave of his hand, relishing the warmth in his twin’s grin.

Ford ran his fingers through his mop of hair and said a little shakily, “I-I’m glad you’re okay. Any number of disastrous things could’ve happened.” 

Stan laughed half-heartedly and said, “What, you don’t think I haven’t been in worse fights before?”

Ford gave him a perplexed look and croaked, “Then a fist fight with a flamethrower wielding madman with a taste for revenge?”

Stan shrugged easily as he internally panicked for a way to backtrack the conversation. Talking about nasty fights he had survived in his twenties was hardly the turn he wanted to take the discussion. Not that they were important much anyways. He mentally chased away the bad memories like he had thrown Gideon out of the Mystery Shack with a broom and grunted, “Well yeah, forget I said anything. We gotta portal to open, right?”

Ford took a long drink from his canteen and nodded, deciding he trusted that his brother trusted him to talk about it when or if he wanted to. He respected his wish to not press the topic further, even though a part of him was curious to know what he could’ve been referencing and feared it wasn’t anything pretty. But he didn’t want to make Stan do anything he didn’t want to so instead, he attempted to calibrate his Multipurpose Portaling Device once more and muttered, “I wonder why I can’t get my MPD to connect to any of the portals. Are they perhaps encrypted?” 

“Maybe the Portal Hub is offline?” Stan inquired, relieved that his twin had been able to read in between the lines. 

The scientist rested his hand on his chin and quietly hummed. “That seems unlikely, but not improbable. Oracles typically want to remain connected to society at large for proselytizing and humanitarian purposes.” He decided that perhaps listening to Stan would be in his best interest and instead located a portal outside of the city limits they could use. “It looks like we’ll have to hitch a ride into the city then, Stan.”

As the rift in space in front of them opened, Stan readied himself to jump through and responded, “Sounds great, Sixer.”

Stan didn’t really know what he had been expecting on the other side of the portal, but rusted out vehicles on an overgrown road was not it. Creeping blue vines had carpeted the asphalt while nubby, grey barked trees broke up the sidewalk with their roots. It seemed as if the shady forest had engulfed the multi lane roadway while mother nature was steadily breaking up the man-made concrete. A grimy, dirt-caked road sign overhead in an unfamiliar language pointed towards the on ramp of an elevated freeway, with the vines also hanging off both sides of it. To top off the eeriness of it all, it was also deathly silent for the evening in nature, a time when many critters should’ve been scampering about.

“Ford… I don’t like this. Every bone in my body tells me this is bad, even my funny bone.” Stan said uneasily, slowly making a circle to take in his surroundings.

Ford drew his blaster and agreed, “Yes, I know what you mean. As Mabel would put it, the vibe is off.”

The conman kicked at the nearby vines and when nothing happened, he stepped on them. Still they didn’t react and he concluded they must be regular, unmoving plants and not the man-eating, carnivorous kind and walked off towards the on ramp. He told his brother, “That oughta get us a good view of our surroundings at least, c’mon.”

Ford pulled his sleeve back over his Multipurpose Portaling Device, disappointed to still not be able to locate the Portal Hub, and followed after his twin. “Yes, yes, good thinking.”

As they climbed higher past a scorched and melted pileup of over a dozen vehicles, Stan knew the hair on the back of his neck was sticking up for a reason. It felt like he was being watched, he realized, and his eyes darted all around for the source of danger. When he found nothing, it only increased how on edge he felt. His body instinctually heightened its sense of hearing, vision, and smell as his limbs tensed and readied to bolt at any moment. 

“Stanley…” Ford murmured with awe, causing Stan to jump. He pointed into the distance in front of them and said, “Look.”

Stan stopped scanning the immediate area to follow Ford’s finger and his jaw dropped. No more than a mile away was once a majestic city scape with exquisite skyscrapers of diverse shapes and designs that would’ve lit up everything within sight with its shining beauty. Now it was dull and grey, a foreboding sight, like an omen of death. The sparkling windows had been coated with mud or shattered long ago, while royal blue vines stretched high up their sides, indicating decades of neglect. One building only rose half as tall as the others, having collapsed in on itself if the colossal pile of stone and steel it was partially buried in was any indicator. There were no signs of activity up ahead, only the gravesite of a once great and prosperous civilization. A husk of what must have once been that was only obtainable in the falsities of their imaginations. 

“Well that’s uh, ominous.” Stan nervously chuckled. “Don’t tell me, that’s where we’re going, isn’t it?”

“Precisely.” Ford said solemnly, narrowing his eyes and moving on at a brisk pace. He was incredibly fatigued from their recent hike up a mountain in a thin atmosphere but they couldn’t stop to rest now, it was dangerous. “There’s nowhere else to go, this is the only inhabited planet in the dimension and the biggest city is, or at least was, straight ahead.”

“Yeesh, and we gotta find Oracle Miquit- Miquizl- the oracle in all that.” He sighed, gesturing to the extensive city.

“Oracle Miquiztli, yes.” The scientist frowned, trying not to show the anxiety in his voice. “Hopefully he’s not dead. And if he is, let’s hope he has a marked grave.”

Stan groaned to make his displeasure known as the red sun dipped behind the low mountains, turning the sky and clouds crimson as well. The brothers continued their trek in relative quiet for some minutes, each carefully listening for signs of danger. Because something was off, they could feel it in the air. Their highly trained, survivalist sides told them as such and they listened well, keeping as low of a profile as they could as they slinked around cars, ever closer to the approaching city skyline.

“So about your hands,” Stan blurted before he could even stop himself, “you can light ‘em on fire?” He immediately felt terrible for asking such a question knowing his brother wasn’t too keen on speaking about his past with that demon, but ever since he had seen Ford use the same flames Bill Cipher had to fight that bounty hunter, he hadn’t been able to get it out of his head. There had to be some sort of story there, one he was dying to know the history of, even if he knew it was a sensitive spot for his twin. 

Ford sighed with tired eyes, like he was remembering a bad time from a past life. “Yes, most Cipher Cultists can, I was no exception back in the day. But even after my relationship with the demon soured, he allowed me to keep the ability, surely as a reminder of our past together.” His expression was somber but it brightened considerably as he continued, “I used to be quite ashamed of this, I thought it made me like the cultists, but it was Mabel who showed me that was far from the case. It doesn’t bother me anymore.”

Stan nodded slowly, soaking this new information up. He was relieved his question didn’t seem to rattle his twin and he stopped tensing in between his shoulders in anticipation of something bad that may happen. “That’s good to hear. Mabel’s a good kid.” Stan muttered wistfully. 

“And so sweet sometimes I can hardly process it.” The sweater wearing man replied quietly, thinking back to that conversation they had the night he had decided to go back to the Multiverse. 

She had told him not to feel bad for leaving her and the others at home since she thought he was doing the right thing, especially because he was bringing Stan along with him. But then he remembered the other half of their conversation, the part where Mabel had disclosed her worry about the prophecy she was a part of and his bittersweet thinking turned to concern. He wondered how she was handling herself without him and if she was having to deal with any difficulties while they were away. It wouldn’t be that far of a stretch to say Bill was eyeing her and the others when he knew Cipher was certainly watching him and Stan. Even with the unicorn hair barrier and the eye scanner in place, he recognized Cipher was a clever demon that had many methods of toying with his prey.

“Heh, yep. I know the feelin’.” Stan quietly chuckled, an incredible aching hurting his heart for missing the children. 

He wanted to see Dipper’s smile again, listen to Pacifica’s sass, and hear Mabel’s squeals of delight. Heck he missed Soos dancing along to the worst songs imaginable in the gift shop and Wendy avoiding speaking to as many customers as she could and even that damn pig. He wanted his bed back and the refreshing taste of Pitt cola as he lounged out on the porch couch watching the sun set behind the trees in the fresh air, and he wanted Ford to be there with him.

“Do you think they’re safe without us? From Cipher? It’s reasonable to believe he’s watching them just as he’s watching us.” The scientist said urgently as they passed by a large truck with the stains of its boxed contents strewn all over the road, having rotted into the asphalt long ago. 

Originally he told Mabel she’d have no reason to worry because he’d make quick work of Cipher but now his plans had gone rather awry and Bill still wasn’t dead in the ground. That meant the demon now had at least the time they had been away in the Multiverse to meddle with the half of the family that was back on Earth. The urge to return home to Gravity Falls, to rush up the elevator and embrace Mabel just to see if she was okay, came over him and he had to blink in surprise at the notion of thinking of that backwater town as homey. Wasn’t he already home here in the stars with Stan at his side? But no, that wasn’t what his heart was telling him right now, which was quite strange to him. It contradicted what he thought he knew and he found he didn’t know what to make of that.

Stan frowned at his brother’s words since if he was concerned for the kids’ safety, then there must’ve been a good reason for it. The more he thought about what his brother said, the more sense it made. He stepped over some old, unidentifiable bones and asked with a slight wince, “I guess, uh, there’s really no way to know for sure. Isn’t that a kick in the pants?” Remembering the time he had felt that exact way about Mabel and his brother when they were both out in the Multiverse and in danger from Cipher wasn’t very fun. He was doing the exact same thing now, just in reverse. He huffed, “Why can’t the kids ever just be safe ‘n sound?”

Ford muttered something under his breath that Stan didn’t pick up on but he sighed nervously as he hid the tips of his fingers in his sweater sleeves, “I suppose we’ll just have to continue to be as quick as we can then,” loud enough for him to hear.

What he didn’t tell Stan was the feeling of self blame that wriggled uncomfortably inside of him, without him Stan wouldn’t be saying that. Sure, he knew now Bill had played him like a fiddle and was trying his hardest to correct that, but that still didn’t make him feel any better.

The conman took notice of his twin’s unease and was secretly grateful he was giving him an opportunity to comfort him since that would make him useful and prove that lousy bounty hunter wrong. Not that he cared what he had to say, not at all. “Hey Sixer,” he began empathetically, “y’know what I always say, worryin’ means you suffer twice. We’re doin’ all we can right now and that’s just gotta be good enough. So just try to relax.”

“When have you ever said that?” The more studious of the twins asked, looking his brother in the eye. He paused, thinking on Stan’s advice for a moment and hummed in thought, coming to the conclusion that it was a logical approach to their situation. So he returned his hands to his side and continued, “Well regardless, I have to agree that’s reasonable. Thank you, Stan.”

“Uh-hu.” He grunted back, grinning on the inside.

The sweater-wearing man kicked at a glass bottle in the road and spoke up after half a minute of quiet, “You never finished your tale of fishing with Dipper and Pacifica.”

An exterior grin showed on Stan’s lips and he cried, “Oh tha’s right. So there we were, smack dab in the middle o’ the lake when the blonde’s line went tight. Of course she didn’t listen to me when I told her to hold on an’ so her rod slips right outta her hands and into the water.” 

“Were you able to get it back?” Ford inquired curiously.

Stan chuckled, “Like you wouldn’t believe, Sixer. So there Dipper is, seein’ his girlfriend frettin’ over this and I’m thinking, well damn I guess we’ll just hafta get another rod. But that kid decides he’s gonna be the girl’s hero on horseback and he freakin’ jumps into the lake, reaches down and grabs the rod before it can sink outta sight, and wrestles it back to the Stan O’ War.” 

With a laugh, Ford slapped his knees while the younger of the twins chattered, “He gives it to me and so now Dippy’s soaking wet, trousers, shoes and everything, shiverin’ and leaking cold lake water everywhere as he climbs back in while I’m tryin’ to juggle all three of our poles, one of which still has a fish hooked on it.” He threw out his hands and rattled on, “But I still want the girl to catch her first fish so I wait for Dipper to stop rocking the boat and flop in and hand her back her rod. But now she’s so concerned over her boyfriend that she don’t care for the fish anymore and nearly lets it go again.”

“Quite an accurate description of those two, I must say. Could you imagine the chaos if Mabel was there too?” The scientist grinned.

Stan shook his head with a beaming face, imagining the thought. He continued on with his story, “So I tell her, hold on tight and reel ‘em in. And y’know what? She actually did it. Caught a thirteen inch trout.” 

“Impressive.” Ford commented. 

The two of them continued to speak to one another, their conversation meandering in no particular direction of importance until they reached the off ramp to the city. It was also cluttered with vehicles low to the ground from sunken tires, their paint jobs badly peeling from years in the sun and exposed to the weather or rusting away into husks of their former selves. A suspenseful silence hung in the open air just as it had on the larger road and it was deafening, with only the rushing of the wind through empty streets to give them lonely company. It was as if the city itself insisted all was dead and forgotten despite what their human heads were warning them of.

As dusk came to an end and the air began to cool without the gentle warmth of the day, Ford nodded his head towards a main street bordered by skyscrapers that reached the heavens and announced, “This road looks rather large, I propose we follow it.”

“M’kay. Sixer, I can’t read these signs though.” Stan grumbled, being unable to make heads or tails of the alien language on a nearby road sign that pointed towards the depths of the mountain height buildings.

“Nor can I.” Ford added. At least that told him this place hadn’t been under the Multiversal Alliance, since they were rather keen on killing native languages and sticking the Universal Text everywhere they could instead.

A low wail that bordered between human and animal not too far in the distance caused both men to freeze in fright, Ford gripping his blaster and Stan clenching his jaw. Slowly, they both turned to look at one another to confirm the other had heard the same sound. The conman abruptly broke out of his statue-like state and grabbed Ford by the elbow, half-singing frantically, “Welp, time to leave. Down the road, away from the terrifying noise. That’s where we’re going.”

“Good idea.” Ford whispered, glancing back in the direction of the sound. 

It was dark out now and there were no streetlights or lit apartments dozens of stories above to bring any luminance to them and light their way down the cracked pavement that had an abundance of overgrown weeds growing from them. But the Staff of Light had started glowing at least, allowing them to see just enough to get by. As Ford eyed the artifact curiously, the uneasiness within Stan became louder when he noticed they were currently boxed in an area with only one entrance and one exit and very exposed. Perhaps traveling down the middle of the street wasn’t actually a very good idea. When a crash came from the ground floor restaurant of the building on the right, Ford froze and pointed his blaster towards it.

Stan started, “Hey Ford, do you think maybe we should-”

An ear bleeding screech cut him off as a horde of stocky undead natives stumbled from the shadowed depths of the restaurant and threw themselves onto the wide sidewalk. Following behind their brethren, a second mob shuffled out into the open air from the left, headed straight towards them. But these weren’t like any zombies they had seen before because they all resembled four eyed, humanoid brown bears with a crown of horns atop their head. That wasn’t the most bizarre part about them though, since each had grown a gaping mouth of mismatched, conical teeth with bulging, pulsating black tendrils radiating from them, most on either their arms or shoulders. These mouths hissed and spat, snapping at the twins while glowing patches of orange oscillated under their skin. The alien mouths led the charge, as if they were the ones piloting the bodies instead of their host since most of their heads rolled about on their necks freely.

Ford ended, “-get out of the open? Absolutely.”

Together, they began sprinting towards the intersection at the end of the block since there was no point in coming back the way they had come and the only way out was now forwards. The screeching became louder once the undead saw their prey was beginning to run and they followed at a limping jog, eager to either spread their affliction or devour a live meal. To Ford, this noise was grating on his ears and made them hurt like his eardrums were being vibrated to shreds. If only he could pause to dig the Mabel gifted ear plugs out of his bag, that certainly would’ve been nice.

“Hey, you don’t suppose the apocalypse came to town and that’s why Ms. what’s-her-face lost contact with Oracle so-and-so, do ya?” Stan thought aloud, his rate of breathing increased from the physical activity. If he knew the Multiverse would’ve involved so much running for his life, he just might’ve declined Ford’s offer to come out here in the first place.

“No, not in the slightest, Stanley.” Ford replied sarcastically as he jumped onto the hood of a car to avoid a swiping corpse.

Stan punched a lunging zombie in the neck as he passed it and replied, “Oh ok, well remind me to never share my thoughts with you again.”

“I was being sarcastic.” Ford cried as his feet returned to the asphalt. Something in the back of his mind told him these fiends were familiar to him but he couldn’t place why he thought so.

“So was I!” Stan yelled back over the moans of the horde.

As they rushed into the intersection, they discovered that a derailed, hover passenger train had just perfectly wedged itself into the space between the skyscrapers directly in front of them and to their right, blocking the paths. The blue vines that crawled up the buildings were rather thin, not giving much confidence that they would hold the brothers’ weight should they try to climb them. Ford peered off to the left and had the misfortune of seeing more of the same terrible creatures on the street hell bent on reaching them. When the conman gazed behind them, he muttered a curse when he saw they were still being followed. They were trapped. 

“Looks like the only way out is through.” Stan growled, donning his knuckle dusters. He had fought off a mob of zombies before and lived to tell the tale twice now, so a third  time would be a breeze. He was basically an expert at this point.

The scientist eyed the grappling hook attached to Mabel’s crossbow while the first of their hungry enemies stepped into the intersection. “No, it’s up,” he barked, nudging his twin to get his attention on the tool that was their ticket out of there, “I’ll pick them off while you get a good shot,” he finished while firing at the closest zombies.

Well Stan had to admit, that was a much better plan than going down with swinging fists, even if his idea was pretty cool. He held the weapon firmly, looking for a solid place to shoot at. “Awright crossbow, here we go. Don’t let us die.” Stan pleaded as he aimed the grappling hook at an exposed concrete pillar several stories up at the corner of the building diagonal to them while his brother was shooting like crazy.

This was just like fishing, he rationalized, since all he had to do was aim a hook and land it where he wanted it to go. He was great at fishing, he could do this. He made his shot, missed, and hit an undead on the head with the hook as it landed, who screeched angrily. The rope retracted and Stan shot once more, hitting the pillar but not biting into anything with the hook itself.

“This is nothing like fishing.” Stan grumbled as he watched the line retreat to him once again as the multitude of predators closed in on them.

“Damn.” Ford swore, shooting his overheated blaster a cross look. 

It was blinking red with a glowing orange barrel so he switched to his freeze ray and in the time it took him to switch weapons, the crowd had pushed further and backed them up against the train to avoid being eaten. As quickly as he could, he started to build a barrier of frozen water between them and the mob. But it wasn’t enough, there was too much to cover and the zombies were chewing through it much faster than he thought they would’ve been able to. Briefly, he wondered if they could possibly climb on top of the sleek body of the train to at least get some higher ground.

“Got it.” Stan bellowed triumphantly, giving the line a good tug and grinning when it stayed. 

“Perfect timing, Stanley.” Ford said with much relief in his voice as he grabbed the crossbow with one hand and wrapped the other around Stan’s middle.

His twin did the same and together, they held on for dear life as they were rapidly propelled fifty feet into the air. The mass of cursed bodies stopped their task of biting through the ice and mindlessly turned to follow their live prey, groaning and hissing all the way. Ford was trained with real world experience, mostly when Mabel was still learning how to use her crossbow-grappling-hook combo, on how to not plummet to his death when a landing was less than smooth. Stan however, was not. So when they hit the cement floor dead on instead of softly on top of it, his grip slipped as he roughly met the side of the building and the wind left his lungs. The second he did so, his head was rushed with panic while he felt himself in free fall, unable to grip anything to save himself. A single thought entered his mind and he hoped he had been good enough for the people that had blessed his life, the niblings, Soos and Wendy, and Ford. 

Something wrapped tightly around his midsection, stopping his life from flashing before his eyes even as it just began to. There were a pair of legs hugging him under the armpits, Ford’s he recognized, that kept him suspended above a deadly drop. A tsunami of relief soaked into his bloodstream and he felt it from head to toe. 

“Sweet Moses!” Stan exclaimed, staring down at the horde that looked back at him, unthinking and ravenous. “I-I’m alive.”

“You won’t be for much longer if you keep thrashing like that.” Ford managed to grit out, a silent fear growing inside of him while his sweaty hands were refusing to play nice with the polished stock of the crossbow.

“Right, right. Uh,” Stan dictated nervously, trying not to eye the crowd of undead that were piling on top of one another now to get closer to them, “Sixer, I’ma turn around and use your body like a ladder to reach the ledge. Can you do that?”

“I don’t see what other choice I have.” Ford said in between pants, his arms shaking from the load they had to bear.

Stan could hardly hear his strained voice over the wails of the crowd but he got the memo. “I’ll be quick, don’t worry.” He responded and used his twin’s shoulder like the rung of a ladder to hoist himself up and did everything in his power to not look down. He may not have had a fear of heights anymore, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t frightening when it was combined with a multitude of killing machines down below that wanted to see him fall.

Ford was at least kind enough to keep his legs flexed together and let him briefly stand on top of them, allowing him to get his fingers around the lip of the floor and pull himself up onto solid ground, shaking from the rush of adrenaline as he did so. Then he firmly grabbed Ford by the straps of his backpack and yanked him up into the skyscraper with him. The both just laid there for a moment, catching their breaths.

“Oh man, we’re not twenty five anymore, that’s for sure.” Stan joked, stretching out his twinging back.

The old scientist laughed softly at this and slowly made his way to his feet to stretch his aching arms and legs. It had been a very long day and the last thing he wanted was to wake up incredibly stiff in the morning.

“Oh and uh, thanks for saving me.” Stan said softly, hiding his guilt with a smile.

“You’re welcome, Stan.” Ford replied, turning on the flashlight on his MPD to light up their surroundings. “Just another day in the Multiverse.”

Now five floors in the building, the wails of the mob below were nothing more than a muted white noise. Up where the brothers were, their surroundings were silent and mostly empty. It seemed like they had taken refuge in what had once been an office space with an open floor plan, with most of the cubicles shoved up into a large pile barricading the stairs in the center. A few panels had been repurposed to make a somewhat enclosed area in the corner of the building they had climbed up into, with several metal and wooden supply crates propped neatly against the improvised walls. A few partially deteriorated mattresses had been laid out in a circle around a forgotten campfire as the soot stained ceiling tiles sagged, indicating that there were at least signs of life at one point in the past.

“Hm, it looks like we weren’t the only ones here.” Stan observed, running his fingers over an old, frayed and deteriorated rope tied to the jutting out support beam they had used to escape the streets. 

“Guess not.” Ford mumbled.

One item resting on top of a waist height, steel supply crate that had been turned into a table caught his eye. Among a paused, dust covered alien game of cards that was to never resume, a Multipurpose Portaling Device cartridge sat with a forgotten pile of betting chips. He swiftly snatched it up like it would fly away if he didn’t and slotted it into his illicit portaling device as giddy as a kid receiving a birthday present.

“But whoever was here left a cartridge behind for us.” He smiled faintly.

“Oh goodie.” Stan said distractedly while he dug through a crate and found nothing of interest. “Looks like they took everything they could. There’s nothin’ here.”

Ford kicked the moldy mattresses to the side and shrugged, “Well it doesn’t matter, we’re just here to wait out the horde.”

“Oh wait a minute, I actually found somethin’.” The conman announced while he took the top off a smaller wooden crate that had been tucked away in a dark corner. He seized a charcoal colored, narrow vase no longer than his forearm from amongst its straw padding and held it up curiously. 

The scientist’s eyes went wide and he reached out to take it from Stan’s hands, saying, “Stanley, let me see that.”

“No way, finders keepers.” Stan smirked, holding the object out away from himself with one arm and keeping his brother back with the other.

“Stan honestly, this is serious.” Ford barked, stomping around his companion in a circle as he kept the vase away from him. “Act your age for once.”

“You’re the one tryin’ to grab uh, whatever this is from my hands like a little kid.” Stan retorted with a silent chuckle.

Ford blinked, stopped what it was he was doing, and folded his arms with a frown when he decided Stan did have a point. With a sigh he asked, “Can I please see?”

“Heh, yeah. Here ‘ya go.” Stan half-heartedly laughed, tossing his brother the vase. 

“Careful, these are delicate.” Ford winced, catching the pottery and holding it close like it was a baby. “If it is what I think it is,” he added, observing the bottom of the object.

“An’ what would that be?” Stan inquired, digging deeper through the crate and finding three more identical seeming vases.

The sweater wearing man’s fingers brushed against the engraved runes on the bottom and his eyes began to sparkle with nerdy wonder, an immense grin forming on his face. He pulled off the ceramic topper by the chain connecting it to the rest of the bottle and smiled even wider when a collection of fresh, leafy vegetables spilled out, appearing like they had recently been plucked straight from the earth. “A Blessed Vessel. This is exactly what Paladin Luik had spoken to us about. I remember reading about these many years ago in Jheselbraum’s library, there was a drawing of one that looked exactly like this.”

An impressed smile came to Stan’s eyes as he placed the other three vessels on the ground since having a twin brother with a photographic memory was actually very useful. He poked one of the bone white root vegetables that had been spilled from the vase and quizzed, “So this rabbit food is still safe to eat, right?”

“In theory, yes. Although I have no way of knowing if that plant contains toxins that are deadly to us with the equipment I have on hand.” Ford shrugged, now taking the top off one of the other three vessels. “This is a huge find for us though, I’m glad your stealing tendencies came in handy for once.”

“Hey hey, my pickpocketing has earned us many meals. Including that curry and rice in the bird dimension that I would kill to have again.” Stan defended, pointing a finger at Ford.

The scientist leaned his head to one side in thought. That curry had been quite delicious. “Alright, your stealing tendencies have been useful twice.” He concluded, gazing into the second vessel.

Shoved inside another was several chewed on chunks of some sort of orange flatbread, completely free of mold, unlike the mattresses they had cleared away. The other two contained fresh drinking water, uncontaminated and clear. That was good, this meant they could each store a meal and roughly a day’s worth of hydration between the four Blessed Vessels, perfect for traversing the Blind Caverns.

But Ford’s enthusiasm soon turned to sorrow as he dictated with a frown, “Well I suppose we won’t have to visit Dimension 212-L anymore.” 

The thought was disappointing to him, he always enjoyed visiting a new dimension. But then he remembered this would most likely be saving the both of them a lot of time, getting them to the Blind Caverns sooner. That would mean they hopefully would get into the Nightmare Realm and fight Cipher ahead of schedule. And if, no when , they defeated him, that meant they could go home. Huh, home. There it was again, thinking of Gravity Falls as home. Was he missing earth? He didn’t know.

Stan bit his lip nervously, recognizing that now the only thing that stood between them and returning to the Blind Caverns was getting ahold of that pair of gauntlets. It was a sweet and sour thing to him. On one hand, he was that much closer to giving Bill Cipher a knuckle sandwich and never having to deal with the Multiverse again. But on the other, the Blind Caverns were a formidable foe, one he dreaded going back to. Knowing he was relatively only one obstacle away from fighting them again didn’t exactly sit well with him. 

“You seem thrilled about that.” The younger of the twins observed sarcastically. 

“As do you.” Ford told him, picking up on his uneasy body language.

“Hey believe me Sixer, I wanna get all this over with and go home as much as you do.” Stan rubbed the back of his neck and resumed, “It’s just, there’s just the teeny tiny problem of insanity inducing caves standing in between us and kicking that demon’s ass.”

Ford nodded somberly. “I don’t blame you for being fearful of them.” A hopeful smile crossed his lips as he glanced at the Staff of Light hanging from his backpack and thought back to how it had communicated to him. Against all odds, he had managed to attune with a weapon infused with Axolotl magic even after he had resigned himself to never being able to do so. So if that could happen, then why couldn’t they make it through the Blind Caverns? He took the artifact into his hands and added, “But I pray we’ll be well prepared to deal with all their tricks when that time comes again.”

“I sure hope you’re right.” Stan shuddered. He looked off in the distance, telling himself that at least Ford wasn’t going anywhere. No matter what their future looked like, at least he would be there. He knew that now and he took solace in it.

The top most segment on the Staff of Light promptly glowed white and immediately after, a soggy, aged ceiling tile fell and hit Ford on the head. While it didn’t hurt him, it smelled something awful and he vigorously shook any clinging, soaked particles from his hair while Stan laughed at him and scooped up the Blessed Vessels into his pack.

“It’s been doin’ that a lot.” Stan observed as he laid out his bedroll, eyeing the staff.

“Yes, I know.” Ford agreed curiously, looking at the artifact in his hands. A hypothesis was built in his head, one that he would need help to test so he inquired of Stan, “Stanley, could you do me a favor and punch me?”

Stan stared at him for half a second before he burst out laughing and chortled, “You don’t have to ask Sixer, I’ll give you a knuckle sandwich anytime.” He stood as he snickered but paused once he raised his fists and added puzzledly, “But uh seriously, why though?”

“For science, now hit me.” Ford said simply.

“You sure are an, erm, interesting guy.” Stan deadpanned and readied a swing.

The Staff of Light bathed itself in light on its right half and not a second later, Stan took a jab at Ford’s right side, which he was easily able to dodge. Then the bottom most segment glowed brightly, predicting the conman’s uppercut from below that the scientist avoided with ease.

“That’s it,” Ford gasped nerdily, “it warns me of the direction of incoming danger.”

“Well would you lookit that, glad I could help.” Stan said easily, lightly socking him in the shoulder. The staff warned Ford of the approaching blow appropriately but he didn’t care enough to move.

“But I wonder what it deems as danger and what it doesn’t. How would it react to multiple simultaneous attacks? Or a threat with no discernible direction, like being surrounded by a fire?” Ford chattered on, staring at the weapon in his hands.

With a yawn, Stan grabbed Ford’s bedroll off his backpack and set it up for him. “Dunno, we’ll answer those questions later.”

“Right, right, we should sleep.” Ford nodded, letting his pack drop to the ground.

“Yeah, sleep…” Stan trailed off exhaustedly as he slipped off his boots.

Ford rubbed his eyes as he laid back on his bed. Oh what a day it had been climbing a mountain, fighting a bounty hunter, and only realizing they were in an apocalyptic dimension after running from a horde of undead. After gently placing his glasses safely in a side pocket of his backpack, he rolled over to speak with Stan to find he was already dead to the world. He frowned disappointedly at this, he had wanted to tell his brother he thought what said bounty hunter had said about him today had been a complete fabrication and he was pleased that Stan decided to stick with him. Because well, Ford knew he had done, said, and thought a lot of cruel things about his brother and despite that, his twin was here right here, right now. Even if he himself didn’t deserve it. Not that he would’ve told Stan he felt that way.

He would just have to remember to say how much Stan meant to him in the morning.

Chapter Text

The morning sun reflecting off one of the few remaining uncracked windows in town just so happened to hit Ford right in the eyes, waking him in quite an irritating way. He climbed out of his sleeping bag, allowing the anger within him to cool off after shooting a dirty look to the only glass pane in the city that wasn’t covered in vines, shattered, or baked in dust. He would’ve much rather preferred to rise on his own time. There was no use going back to bed though, especially since he discovered the undead had moved on from them at some point after looking over the edge and seeing nothing but cracked blacktop, the overturned train, and weeds.

It was only after he mixed in unheated water with his freeze dried breakfast of red eggs and alien potatoes that he realized just how hungry he was. He didn’t even mind that he was eating it cold, every bite was heavenly. About half way through his meal, he decided it would actually be wise to make some food for and then wake Stan, who had somehow managed to sprawl out like a starfish even in a sleeping bag. Watching his twin sleep as he mixed up another bagged meal of preserved food and cool water, the fairly fuzzy thought appeared in his mind that he was rather grateful Stan had come along with him to other worlds in the first place. He knew for certain how lonely he must’ve been if he had to go through this journey alone and was glad he had a companion who, for the most part, understood him and valued his eccentricities. 

He gently nudged his brother awake and told him, “Stan, Stanley. It’s time to wake up.” 

“Hm, wha-?” Stan yawned, opening his eyes. He took a few seconds to look at his surroundings, remembering where it was that he had fallen asleep, and grumbled, “Ugh, morning already.”

“I know the feeling.” The old scientist responded, handing him his food. His sleep was still as terrible as ever. 

“Wow, these things actually don’t taste like crap when you’re starving.” The conman commented through a mouthful of rehydrated eggs. 

“Surprisingly not.” Ford agreed with a faint smile.

“The zombies are gone.” Stan noticed after pausing to listen to the silence that surrounded them.

“Yes.” Was all Ford tiredly said. He would’ve killed someone for some coffee right now.

The conman knew his brother well enough to know he was still in the middle of waking up and most likely didn’t want to have his ear talked off before then, so he shut up. Truth be told, his head wasn’t finished booting up yet either. They both finished their meal without speaking and packed up their bed rolls and retied their shoes much the same way, allowing the food in their bellies and the ever rising sun to signal to their brains that it was time to face the day. 

“Huh. That looks promising.” Stan dictated, peering out down the street after he had tied the grappling hook to the cement pillar so they could get down.

“What does?” Ford inquired, coming to his side and following his gaze. “Oh, yes it does.” He mumbled upon seeing an immense, white circular building right in the center of the city, straight down the street they had been walking the night before. It must’ve had a grandiose glass dome at some point that had since partially collapsed. “It looks like some sort of official building, maybe for governmental use.”

“That’s what I was thinkin’. Wanna check it out?” The younger of the twins prodded.

“I don’t have any better ideas so I don’t see why not.” Ford shrugged and grabbed a hold of the crossbow with one hand and Stan with the other at the building’s edge.

They leapt off the floor and felt their hearts flip in their rib cages as their feet dangled in the air for all of three seconds. This landing had been much better than that of the previous night’s and for that, both were grateful. Swiftly, they made their way up to the overturned hovertrain, keeping their eyes peeled for the return of the undead, and made short work of the vehicle with the grappling hook. Once they had climbed over it, it was a straight shot to the domed building they had spotted earlier.

“I can’t relax knowin’ we could get swarmed at any second.” Stan whispered, peering into the shadows of a crumbling parking garage. He stopped in his tracks, leaving Ford to continue to walk ahead of him, when he spotted something odd. “Wait, Ford c’mere.”

“Hmm, what is it?” He questioned, returning to his brother’s side.

“Tell me I’m not the only one seeing that,” he paused and grimaced, trying to find the right words, “pulsating tentacle mass.”

The scientist narrowed his eyes and shielded his face from the sun with his hand to get a better look and that’s when he saw it, a toothy, coal colored lump of some sort of organic material that had grown so large on some poor zombie, their legs could no longer carry them and the whole body had collapsed to the ground. In order to continue to gain any food at all, it had reached out across the concrete with veiny, black tendrils. 

“Definitely not.” The scientist muttered curiously and picked up a decently hefty stick off the crumbling sidewalk to toss at the abomination.

Stan’s eyes widened in alarm and he said urgently, “Hey, hey Ford, what’re you doing? I may not be the smartest knife in the drawer but at least I know not to chuck things at lumps of infectious diseases.”

Ford paused with his arm back and ready for a throw and responded rather self assuredly, “Well, all my experiences with zombies thus far tell me they spread their affliction via a bite or open wound. So as long as neither of us get seriously hurt, we should be just fine,” and hurled the wood right at the thing.

His projectile landed just short of the hunk of revolting lifeform and on top of the tendrils instead, which speedily wrapped around what had landed atop them like an octopus enveloping their prey. It continued to hold onto the stick as it quickly digested it with a slimy secreted mucus, burning the wood into nothing. A slight rumbling came from within the larger mass of dark tissue and a new bulbous growth spontaneously popped up, its creation fueled by Ford’s curiosity.

As Stan made a disgusted face at the sight, Ford gently nudged him along and said easily, “See? Now we know not to step on them.”

“I wasn’t gonna do that anyway.” The conman cried, throwing his hands up in the air as he followed after his brother. “I didn’t need a reckless experiment to tell me that.”

The scientist rolled his eyes good naturedly at his brother’s teasing remark and commented, “I would certainly hope you go nowhere near them. With a digestive system as fast as that, you would dissolve to the bone in no more than a minute.”

The closer they traveled to the center of the city, the more the infectious growth seemed to inhabit the streets. It seeped out onto the road and crept up the sides of the skyscrapers just as the blue vines did, preying on and consuming the organic material whenever it grew too close. Spreading freely, it also choked out much of the sidewalk as it slowly ate away at anything and everything it could reach. As such, the weeds were much sparser here, only popping up when there was a significant gap between them and the tentacles. A very careful mindset was needed for the brothers to take each step, not wanting to trigger any tentacles and end up as lunch themselves. Even after keeping their eyes constantly peeled for other signs of intelligent life, none was to be found. Only the slowly decaying remains of what was once civilization was around, its prime lost to the grim reaper of time.

Eventually, the twins made it to the heart of the city and to the vast, glass domed building in its very center. At one time it must’ve been a magnificent sight if the green rusted abstract art pieces on what probably could’ve been the front lawn were anything to go off of. Now they rose fragilely to the heavens, surrounded by a scattering of scorched bones, bullet casings, and indifferent, bristled weeds. The outer walls of the cement structure itself might’ve been painted over with a glossy white paint but it was all too faded and tarnished with streaks of melted, oxidized piping to tell. Alien lettering of the steel sign that once proudly titled the building stooped brokenly in front of the door, partially blocking it. But most fallen of all was the glass dome, its center bowed in on itself and leaving a layer of sun aged, fractured glass in and around it. 

“Something bad happened here…” Stan muttered uneasily as his boots crunched glass underfoot. 

“And we’re going deeper.” Ford grunted, kicking the metallic door that refused to budge. If only he had his magnet gun. Something about the environment here caught his attention and he realized it was the abundance of native plant life compared to just down the block where the plants seemed to grow in fear of the infectious reaching disease. He took this as a sign they were doing something right and that encouraged him to continue his attempts at forcing the door open. 

With Stan’s help, the door finally did give in and with an ear bleeding screech, it was tossed from its hinges and rattled onto the ground, sending a plume of dust swirling into the air. Ford covered his ears with a wince as Stan coughed on the ancient, stale particles. Inside was much like the outside, with cracks in the grime coated, tiled floor spider webbing in every which way, inviting stubborn plants to seep from the earth while various rusting steel tables wrapped around and followed the outer wall in a semicircle. A series of smaller circular walls paralleled the outer one roughly every fifty feet and were twenty high, not reaching the collapsed dome but sectioning off the inside into a series of rings nonetheless. These rooms were further divided by a wall that ran straight through the middle and blocked the view of beyond, sectioning the interior further.

A glitchy announcer rose from the dead and said on top of tinny, off tune music, “We-welcome to the Miquiztli Re…search Cen…ter…” and died out.

Stan snapped his fingers in recognition and Ford gasped excitedly, saying, “Miquiztli was the oracle’s name Paladin Thaem spoke to us about.”

“Now where is he? That’s the real question.” The conman added, peering around the room like the man himself would pop out upon hearing the words. The far wall caught his eye when he noticed it was topped with more of the revolting, tentacled masses of disease like dollops of frosting coating the circumference of the top of a cake. “Sixer, lookit there.” He muttered, nudging his brother.

Ford curtly nodded upon seeing what Stan did and he commented, “Well let’s stay out of their way then.”

As he slowly made his way into the center of the room, he took in the assortment of glass petri dishes and expensive metal instruments strewn around on the floor, the tables toppled over onto their sides, and many sparking ropes of wire that drooped to the ground like depressed snakes. Wait, sparking… that must’ve meant this place still had electricity running to it. So when a Holographic Pad near a grouping of partially crumpled steel tables came into his vision, he was immensely curious as to what it had to say. He knew from his time in the Multiverse that the things were often used in classroom settings to project images to large audiences of people and wondered why this one was here.

“Stan, I do believe I’ve found a clue that may give us insight on the nature of this place.” He declared, motioning for his twin to follow him to the pad.

Once he took his eyes off the Blob Monsters, Stan was confused to see his brother getting so excited over nothing more than a circle of blinking lights on the floor next to a panel containing a single button and a screen. Wait, hang on a minute. If the lights were blinking then that meant this whole thing was still being powered by something. “Hey, those lights are working. So there’s gotta be someone around, right?”

“That’s precisely what I was thinking Stanley, good observation.” He complimented and pressed the blue button on the panel.

First there was nothing but a burst of static on the screen and then a movie fuzzily came into focus as the lights of the Holographic Pad brightened and a humanoid similar to that of a brown bear with a circlet of horns atop their head smiled and waved at the camera, filming in what could be his personal lab if the shelf of belongings and tables of medical equipment in the background were anything to go off of. He wore a snow white lab coat with twelve jingle bells looped on a pink silk ribbon tied around his neck. But most curiously of all were the thick, red, yellow, and black gauntlets with two spikes each at the base of the knuckles that he had on. A ring of magical runes were engraved at the wrists, ones that appeared quite similar to the symbols on the Staff of Light. 

“Well hello visitors, and welcome to the Miquiztli Research Center. If for some reason you don’t already know who I am, I am Oracle Miquiztli.” The Oracle stated proudly in a Norwegian accent, gesturing towards himself.

“Well I’m glad he cleared that up for us,” Stan snorted, “I couldn’t tell from the bells and the gauntlets.”

“Now if he could just let us know where he is, that would be immensely useful.” Ford stated. 

The holy man on the TV screen continued, “As you tour the facility today, feel free to click the button to any of the screened panels just like this one for an in depth explanation of what you see. Please keep your visitor badge clearly visible at all times or else you may have a less than savory encounter with our security. And one last thing, if you don’t have a Restoration Potion handy, flag down an associate and they’ll be happy to part with one for you.”

The screen cut to black for just a moment before a new movie began, with the oracle filming in the very location the humans were currently at, just in a pristine and regular working state with many scientists going about their duties. He explained, “I’ve taken it upon myself to film a series of new informational videos to replace the old ones and keep up with the, erm, interesting times we find ourselves in. Once we were a respectable cancer research center, but now we’ve pivoted to fighting a new threat. Behind me are my fellow scientists, working hard to develop a sustainable cure to the spreading curse that I’m sure you must’ve heard about over the last few weeks.” An image on the Holographic Pad flickered to life in front of the humans, showing one of the zombies with a tumorous mouth full of sharp teeth on its neck and inky tendrils growing across the rest of the body. The oracle pointed off camera, as if he could see the holographic image just like they could and went on, “The most obvious sign of a zombie is that second mouth they like to grow, but it doesn’t start out like that.”

The jaws on the hologram shrank away until there was nothing but a bite mark left on the neck of the sickly appearing bear person. “Early symptoms of an infected individual include fever, nausea, vomiting, diaphoresis, emotional instability, and a break in the skin where the curse entered. Most often this occurs by being bitten or scratched by an undead yourself, so be careful out there.” Oracle Miquiztli pointed off screen to the injury and the projected animation zoomed in on it, showing it bleeding. He added informatively, “There’s no use in trying to bandage this particular wound though, we’ve learned this curse is a fighter and will burn any bandaging placed on top of it, keeping the patient bleeding indefinitely.” 

Ford rubbed his chin at the revelation, wounds that bleed forever and magically burn bandages? He had sworn he knew of that from somewhere, but where? The answer remained out of his grasp within his mind, frustrating him. He didn’t usually have such a spotty memory when it came to these things.

Miquiztli prattled on, “In only a matter of hours to days, the patient’s state progresses to include episodes of insanity followed by times of lucidity, convulsions, and that tell-tale nasty mouth full of sharp teeth at the site of the initial injury.” The wound on the holographic image steadily grew into the hideous jaws seen on every one of the undead and the camera zoomed out to show the character laying down as if dead. “Not far after this the patient dies entirely, only to rise from the ground, piloted by the curse to further spread itself.” The animation followed along with what the scientist was saying and shuffled to their feet, the infection on their neck biting hungrily at the air.

“Oh ok, so it is just like a regular zombie then.” Stan thought aloud.

Ford hummed in agreement, currently putting much more of his energy into pondering for the answers he sought than paying attention to what the other scientist had to say.

“That’s all I have for you right now. Follow your guide to the next area, stay safe and enjoy the rest of your tour.” The oracle ended with a smile.

“Where are you now?” Ford muttered to himself as the television screen shut off and the three dimensional, projected animation ended.

“It’s nice to see he had room in the budget for all that in the middle of the apocalypse.” Stan said sarcastically, gesturing to the Holographic Pad and screen. He continued with an enthusiastic grin, “But seriously, did you see those nice an’ shiny gauntlets he had? They were like wrecking balls on his fists. I could use some hardware like that out here.”

“Yes, yes…” The old scientist mumbled distractedly as he began to pace back and forth with his hands clasped behind his back. A curse, a curse that makes you go crazy, where had he heard that before? It was on the tip of his tongue, he just knew it. 

Hoo boy, here we go. Stan thought, giving his twin a knowing look. Ford’s pacing was no different to Dipper’s and it meant he must’ve been thinking deeply about, well, something. He didn’t know exactly what, it was most likely some nerdy crap he didn’t care for anyways, but he leaned against the nearest metal table and decided it would be best to wait his brother’s behavior out and not interrupt him. That allowed him to do some of his own reflecting, mostly on the gauntlets the oracle was wearing. The thought crossed his mind, what if when they met him, he was hesitant to part with his magical artifact just like the Paladin Thaem had been? He brushed it aside; they would cross that bridge when they came to it.

Ford’s head, which was bowed deeply in thought, suddenly bolted upright and he exclaimed, “Stan! I know this curse, this disease. I’ve had it- and recovered from it.”

Well of all the things to come out of Ford’s mouth, that was probably the last thing Stan had been expecting. If he had a glass of water to be holding, he probably would’ve done something dramatic, like drop it and shatter it all over the floor. Instead he just gaped at his twin, his mouth hanging low enough to catch flies in. “...What?” He asked bewilderedly.

Ford nodded urgently and clarified, “Yes, you heard me right.” 

It all made so much sense now that it was terribly clear in retrospect. This was the very curse that demoness Ysithyl had put upon him when he had been hit with her scythe while attempting to escape her with Mabel. Yes, his memory of the time was fuzzy, but he clearly remembered feeling sicker than he ever had before. Mabel had been especially worried about him when she tried to bandage his wound, only for her effort to burn away. Mabel had somehow managed to heal him… With a potion? Was he remembering that right? He knew she cast a Healing Spell to stitch together his gash but as for the curse itself, he wasn’t sure. No, wait, yes he was. Both Mabel and Oracle Miquiztli had described to him the afflicted as being cursed, which was exactly what the Restoration Potion was designed to reverse. Said elixir was what the holy man had urged everyone to carry with them in the video, too. But this only raised so many more questions. Why had he recovered when everyone else didn’t? Where did everybody go? Was Ysithyl to blame for the state of this world or something else?

The sweater wearing man continued, “You remember me telling you of the time Mabel and I were both wounded by Ysithyl, correct?”

Stan folded his arms and said, “Yeah, the insane owl demon-lady? How could I forget someone so lovely?”

“Yes, well she hit me with her scythe, and I quickly fell ill and was cursed because of it. My symptoms matched that of the presentation Oracle Miquiztli gave…” Ford trailed off in silent alarm when he remembered that emotional instability and insanity had been listed as signs of the curse. He prayed he hadn’t given Mabel any trouble while he was sick and made a mental note to ask her about it when he arrived home. “Anywho,” he continued, “Mabel healed me, using a combination of brewing and spellcasting I believe, and I made a full recovery.”

Stan rubbed his eyes, taking in this new revelation. His memory told him this story lined up with the last nerve-wracking days before the portal turned on again, after Cipher had boasted about having hired muscle that could kidnap his great-niece. Obviously he was glad his brother and Mabel had turned out fine, but then why hadn’t everyone else? “Then what the hell happened here?” He mused, gesturing broadly to their surroundings. He couldn’t help but wonder, if Mabel hadn’t been there to help out his brother, then what terrible fate would’ve befell him? It made a chill go down his spine imagining his own family member lifelessly shambling in the streets as a parasitic curse grew out of him and he had to violently kick the image out of his mind because it was starting to make him nauseous.

“I suppose we can only hypothesize,” Ford pondered as his eyes wandered the room, “unless of course that screen over there can tell us.” 

Ford spotted a screen with another blue button embedded into the wall on their path forward. Straddling both sides of the wall and keeping them out of the next inner layer of the building was what appeared to be a grey and yellow walk through metal detector, only this one was circular and large enough to be the size of a small bedroom. A sort of camera on the end of a robotic limb was tucked neatly away in the corner. But none of this was what interested Ford, for sitting on the left wall of this enormous piece of equipment was another informational button to push. He started off towards it, eyeing the stationary masses of cursed, mouthed and tendriled flesh that rested atop it a weary look.

“I guess.” The younger of the twins replied, following after his brother. Stan also shot the bloated zombies a disgusted look, wondering why they had all chosen to rest on top of the wall rather than anywhere else. It was when his gaze went further up and he noticed the vines reaching down from the remains of the collapsed glass ceiling that it made sense. They were probably just hungry and that was where the food was the closest.

While Stan’s thoughts wandered to unholy biology, Ford’s remained on the cause of said organisms, the demoness Ysithyl. The man was immensely pleased that the woman was now rotting away under some jungle canopy if her weapon had the ability to twist her enemies into undead husks of their former selves. He was now especially grateful for Mabel’s aid that night, more so than he had been before, knowing she had rescued him from such a grim fate. That poor girl, she had endured being swept up in that demonesses claws more than once. What a frightening bounty hunter she had been. Wait, speaking of bounty hunters…

The two entered the new, mysterious room and the grey plasticy doors abruptly slid shut behind them, locking them in. Ford didn’t seem nearly as bothered by this as Stan was, since he was busy thinking back on what the flamethrower wielding bounty hunter had said to his brother. It was all a lie, obviously it was, but he remembered now that he had been meaning to communicate that to his companion.

“There’s some sorta warnin’ sign here…” Stan mumbled, trying to make out any information he could on the rusty little placard underneath the screen and button that had drawn them in here in the first place. There were a few miniscule flashing orange lights around the sign, clearly trying to tell them to do something, but it was impossible to know. Beside them, the short scoped camera attached to a robotic limb that hung from the low ceiling was faintly whirring and getting steadily louder, warming up for something.

“Hey Stan,” Ford began gently enough to get Stan to immediately feel an unease in his stomach. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, about the bounty hunter. What he said-”

Oh no, Stan could hear his brother’s next words already and he braced for the ugly truth to come out. Ford would surely tell him there had been some truth to what the hunter had said, he had hardly done anything worthwhile his whole life. Even out here, he was simply following his brother’s trail, weighing him down. His insecurities nipped at him and hissed to him, nevermind that Ford had told him he wouldn’t hurt him and that he cared for him and thought he was clever, he had just been too preoccupied with trying to over atone for his own sins that he hadn’t noticed it until just now. Just like countless others in his life had let him know his place, his brother was finally catching up on who he was and was going to do the same.

Both of their trains of thought were cut off however when with a noisy purring, the camera groaned to life and stared straight into the cranium of the closest living thing it could find, which just so happened to be Stan. Something within it made a rapid clicking noise as it whirred like a jet engine readying for takeoff and then there was a blinding flash of light, filling both their visions with white. 

Then it was like a horrendously familiar movie playing out in Stan’s head, his eyes the screen the projector cast its moving pictures on.

The humidity was so thick he could drink it. It made him sweat through his ratty white shirt and stuck his overgrown hair annoyingly to the back of his neck. Swaths of tropical insects buzzed outside the abandoned logging mill, their songs a natural orchestra filling the dense jungle on the Colombia and Panama border. As the wind whistled through gaps in the rickety walls, an assortment of rusted chains and blades rattled against one another, hanging from the rafters. Darkness seeped into the air, partially because it was the middle of the night and there was no electricity here, and partially because Stan and his companions were hiding from the law. Well, maybe saying that the half dozen angry men with him were his companions was a bit of a stretch. They had tied his hands behind his back with a length of old rope and pressed him up against the side of the gigantic saw blade, after all. That wasn’t even the worst part because that had to go to the pocket knife that was currently pressed against his neck by none other than his old pal, Jorge. The eyepatched man scowled at him, his messy hair hanging down around his chin.

But it was another man that spoke to him, Rico. He was stocky and short but every last bit of him was filled with hate and violence, which Stan was only now having the misfortune of learning. With a thick hispanic accent, Rico came up beside him and growled, “You cost me too much this time, Pinefield. What do ya have to say for yourself?”

Stan began to sweat, if possible, even more and not from the heat. “Hey, c’mon friends. Didja forget that I got you all outta prison in the first place or did it slip your mind?” He replied, trying his best to keep his voice steady. 

The other three men, who had escaped Colombian prison with Stan, Rico, and Jorge, muttered angrily to each other, not accepting the conman’s retort. They didn’t appreciate the situation that they had been put in.

Jorge, still keeping his blade firmly against Stan’s neck, spat at him, “¡Cállate! Your words mean nothing to us. Your failed heist is the reason we’re here in the first place.”

Rico came closer to him, his eyes full of vengeance putting fright into Stan’s own. “And now you lost us our boat ride into Panama. I was counting on you not to mess this up, Pinefield.” 

He swiftly pummeled Stan straight in the gut but the young man was unable to bend over with Jorge holding him against the wood cutting machine. That at least was working in his favor as he subtly cut away at his bindings by rubbing them against the large teeth of the saw, earning himself a few breaks in the skin of his wrists already. But he couldn’t allow himself to wince lest they become suspicious.

“H-how was I supposed ‘ta know I was insulting the capt’n? I’m still learning Spanish.” He tried defending himself, his voice slightly hysterical. Another few threads were cut around his wrists, getting him closer to freedom.

Jorge pushed the blade into his skin and a trickle of warm liquid ran down Stan’s neck, soaking into the hem of his shirt and dotting the dirt beneath his feet. He fumed,  “Estupido, that’s what you are. You cheat, you lie, and it gets you nowhere, you think you’re smart but all you do is cost us. Just like tonight! Malparido, you are worth nothing, useless.”

“I- I’ll get you another boat, I swear. I won’t let you down again.” Stan cried, feeling his heart pounding in his throat. 

He tried not to think about how easy it would be for this man to push just a little harder and cut his jugular open, leaving him to bleed out in some forgotten space of jungle. Why was it that he always seemed to get into these sorts of situations? He hadn’t wanted to get mixed up with these kinds of people in the first place, but here he was, being insulted and his life threatened by some thugs who he had once thought to be his friends. Somehow their words stung more than his sliced flesh.

“No,” Rico shot, “I think it is time we disposed of la basura.” He chuckled darkly and clarified to Stan, “Our trash.” He unsheathed the machete he carried on his belt and handed it off to one of the other three guys and instructed them, “Come back to the docks when the job is done. We’ll figure something else out there.”

With a knowing smirk, Jorge released the knife from the conman’s neck and backed away to join his buddy. “Adiós, mi amigo.” He said sarcastically as he disappeared into the lush underbrush.

Stan was left to face three angry men, each taller and broader than he was, with his hands tied behind his back while his wrists and neck bled. He swallowed and offered them a nervous smile, which they didn’t return. The machete wielding man swung at him, which he ducked and used to his advantage to shoulder charge him, sending him sprawling onto the ground. He kicked the second guy, who approached with a crowbar, straight in the groin and he was quickly neutralized. 

The third man was flipping a switchblade in his fingers as he came near and he said, “Acuéstate y muere. Lo haré rápido.”

“No entiendo.” Stan grunted back to him, busy at the sawing table cutting through the remaining rope. His life depended on getting control over his hands again and there wasn’t much time left to achieve it.

The switchblade holder sighed as he closed in and jabbed his weapon straight for Stan’s heart. The man couldn’t have cut the timing any closer if he tried, for his bindings cut through and he grabbed a stray chunk of wood to shield himself, the steel embedding itself into the cellulose. Rapidly twisting the plank drove the knife from his enemy’s hands and he turned it around to grab it for himself but was tackled to the ground by the machete wielder. 

A swift punch to the temple made the guy regret trying to keep Stan down and he scrambled for the dagger still sticking out of the wood, only for the crowbar to come straight for his fingers. The conman had to retract his reaching arms to keep his hands unbroken, which frustratingly allowed the unarmed adversary to pick the blade back up. A flash of white stars exploded in his vision as a boot hit the side of his head and he was kicked onto his backside, a dull and throbbing pain across the whole side of his face. 

Rapidly scooting away, Stan’s arm made contact with the pile of the rest of the unused rope and he quickly took it into his arms to use as an improvised weapon as he began to bleed just below his swelling right eye. He had just managed to climb to his feet when he found himself darting sideways to avoid becoming the switchblade’s pincushion, but used his new position to his advantage and speedily retaliated by wrapping a length of cord around his attacker’s neck. He pulled hard, starting to choke the man, and in his panic the thug dropped his weapon to claw at the binding constricting his airway.

Stan noticed the crowbar thug readying a swing on him and adjusted his tactics, dragging the suffocating man in front of him to use as a human shield while the sight in his right eye dwindled. But as he slowly backed away, the Pines then learned that he had chosen even lousier companions than he had previously thought since the other guy didn’t seem the least bit bothered by this and he brought the length of steel down on both of them anyways. A strangled shriek of pain escaped the shield’s throat as a haunting crunch came from his collarbone and a look of terror dawned on Stan’s face. But the crime against humanity didn’t stop there, for the crowbar was swiftly swung again without regard for the defenseless criminal. This time, the weapon made contact with their head and he slumped over, liquid crimson gushing from the gash in the forehead.

There hadn’t even been time to react, it had all happened too fast, and Stan dropped his now potentially dead human shield as an icy and heavy feeling of horror made him sick. Overestimating the humanity of these people had gotten him into this fight and now it had maybe even cost a life. But pausing to dwell on such a thing could also end his own so he charged the thug and latched onto the crowbar without hesitation. A tug-of-war began, each twisting and pulling, fighting for the upper hand as they worked to keep their feet from getting tangled on the body of the unconscious man or the rope in the dirt. With all his might, Stan shoved hard and pinned his enemy against the circular saw blade at the very table he had been trapped at and grit his teeth to jam the steel bar under the thug’s chin and against his trachea. His hands were slick with sweat while they trembled and his arms burned to battle the strength of the other man but inch by inch, he brought the weapon to the other’s neck to choke him out too.

A frigidly cold and burning hot sensation assaulted Stan’s belly all of the sudden and he looked down to discover the pointed end of a machete sticking through the front of his shirt, blood seeping out of the wound. His strength left him faster than a speeding bullet and before he knew it, he was on the ground, unable to think of anything but the agony in his stomach. Vaguely, he was aware somewhere in his mind that he had been stabbed as the two remaining criminals chuckled at him, standing over him and taking the time to spit in his face. One kicked him again just for good measure and then they were gone, leaving him to succumb to his wounds. His body was freaking out, forcing him to take in repeated rapid and shallow breaths as his abdomen cramped and went rigid, involuntarily curling him up.

It was only then that he noticed Ford had been there with him all along, clothed in all black and his hair grey and watching from the corner of the room. He was in too much pain to question why Ford was there and why he was so old but his twin was racing over to him now, his face alarmed. But the second his brother’s hand grasped his own, the world was flooded in black and he fell upwards into the void.

Run.

That was all his mind told him, he had to get away from there. Away from Rico and Jorge and he didn’t know where he was going but anywhere was better than there. He was clutching his stomach, trying to keep his own innards from spilling out as he raced for his life. 

“STANLEY!” Someone roared behind him. He didn’t stop.

Maybe he should’ve, because in the next second he was tackled to the ground, his arms pinned behind his back. Oh no, it was the cops, it had to be. They were going to stitch him up and send him back to prison. That couldn’t happen, he had to get back to the states and back to his ma. He hadn’t called her in so long, she must’ve been worried sick. He kicked and squirmed, yelling every spanish obscenity he knew, trying to free himself.

“Lemme go. You don’t know what you’re doing.” He cried, his voice sounding old and aged in his ears. 

Wait a minute.

“Stan, just calm down. Please.” Ford was saying, sounding a little frightened himself.

The conman took in a very shaky breath, feeling all twelve of his brother’s fingers gripping his wrists. His wrists that were healed and not raw or bleeding. He stopped trying to fight off his brother and just let his head fall against the gritty tile, feeling its coolness against his hot skin and focusing on that. Slowly, his lungs calmed until they were working at a normal pace and he remembered where they were. The research center, the gauntlets. Kicking Bill’s ass. Right.

Ford was still pressing all his weight against his back, pinning his hands to his sides. “Stanley, a-are you okay? What was that?”

“Why the hell did we step foot inside the Flashback Giver 3000?” Stan grit out. He spat out a wad of dirt that had slipped into his mouth when his brother tackled him and added, “And why did you body slam me like some sorta damn football player?”

“Because you were running straight for the next one.” Ford clarified worriedly, finally letting go of his brother’s wrists and allowing him the usage of his arms.

The younger of the twins achingly sat up, quivering like a soaking wet puppy left out in the rain, and finally gazed properly at his surroundings. It appeared as though they had made it through to the next innermost ring of the building. Nearby there were two short columns of perfectly pristine wax figures laying on top of autopsy tables with an informational panel sitting dutifully in front of them. Further away were several rows of abandoned, shattered glass doored refrigerators, the petri dishes they contained mostly spilled out onto the disgusting ground like the spilled innards of some mechanical animal. Stan shivered at the sight, feeling a phantom pain in his belly and back over his scars. He looked straight ahead and noticed that Ford was right, he had nearly almost run straight into the next Flashback Giver 3000 that separated the room they were in from the next one, just like the other had.

Unsteadily climbing back to his feet, he tried to calm the intense, nausea causing anxiety that boiled within himself. “Hey, thanks Ford. For saving me.” He sucked in and blew out a deep breath and went on, “And I’m sorry you had to see that… whatever the hell it was that just happened.” His old enemies’ words echoed violently in his head, vibrating it to the point it might just crack. They called him trash, useless, and other vulgar things he only learned the meaning of later. But that was how his life went he supposed, whether it was his pa, past friends turned enemies, lovers, or even alien bounty hunters. He was a burden to everyone, someone whose life was nothing but a long series of mistakes. Hell, even the damn Blind Caverns saw it and called him out on it. Poor Ford had to put up with him day after day.

But what was worse was that Ford had been there to see it all. Both of them had been thrown into the past against their wishes by some bizarre machine that Stan still didn’t know the function of. It was jarring to say the least having his perfectly normal day shaken up abruptly by his haunted past. Which was just peachy, he thought bitterly, since he had obviously wanted his twin to know all about the darkest times of his life on the run. 

“Yes, you’re welcome…” Ford said softly, his eyes distant, focused in thought on his twin’s pain. He wanted to help him, walk him through what they had witnessed so he began, “Stan, do you think-”

“No I don’t. I never do.” Stan laughed joylessly and cut him off, his shoulders hunched while avoiding eye contact. Whatever Ford was going to say next, he didn’t want to hear it or dwell on it.

Ford, well he didn’t seem exactly sure on how to take his twin’s response. He very much wanted to aid his brother during this time but wasn’t sure on how to go about it. Stan’s body language alone clearly conveyed to him that he didn’t want to talk about what he had just relived and the scientist couldn’t say he blamed him. But that snippet of his brother’s life recontextualized just about everything he thought he knew about Stan’s time as a vagabond. He had seen him on television on occasion while living in his lab in Gravity Falls and had assumed he had been doing decently well for himself. But one of the men in his memory had said something that chilled him to his core, he had mentioned Stan being in prison in South America. How on earth could Stan have gotten mixed up there? What was he doing with those dangerous people? He understood his brother hadn’t exactly been a model citizen, in the past or present, but those seemed like the type of people he had to occasionally associate with to build his Quantum Destabilizer. Those were bad people, drug smugglers, human traffickers, gang members, and pirates just to name a few.

He sighed, looking back at the demon killing weapon that hung from his pack and said to Stan, “None of what they said about you is true, Stan. The same goes for yesterday’s bounty hunter.” He offered his brother a smile and continued, “And when we get home, I’m going to track those men down. Nobody will ever find their bodies.”

Unfortunately for Stan, he wasn’t really in the head space to appreciate his twin’s reassurances. “I believe ya.” He mumbled, knowing full well his brother was capable of just that while he tried to remind his panicky brain that he was relatively safe now. His energy was gone, snuffed out like an entire five gallon bucket of water had been poured over a candle. Curling up in a safe corner of his bed at home and crying himself to sleep sounded like a wonderful idea just then. But when did he ever get what he wanted? So seeing as though they were still in the middle of the apocalypse, he would have to get a rain check on that.

“I’m sorry you had to live through that. You didn’t deserve it.” The scientist added gently. 

Stan rubbed his eyes while his hands and feet trembled, dispersing the tears forming there. “Thanks, Six.” He said shakily.

“Are you alright?” Ford cooed, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Nuh-uh. But it’ll be fine.” He huffed, his vision landing on something peculiar when he opened his eyelids again. Since he was desperate to think about literally anything else right now, he latched onto the scene before him like a lifeline and focused on it. There was a gap in the Blob Monsters on top of the new inner wall, just underneath a tangle of sinking, frayed wiring that sparked occasionally. “Huh, I guess they don’t like electricity.”

Ford was glaring intensely at the informational screen back in the flashback machine, pondering the logistics of how such a thing could’ve possibly gotten him to accompany his own brother in his personal memories. That was up until he heard his brother say something, which is when he turned his neck owlishly to stare at his carbon copy. “What did you say?” He inquired urgently, like he had missed the announcement for the winning scratch lottery numbers after he had purchased a large sum of the things. Stan was rather flighty when it came to discussing his feelings, as was he honestly, but he very much hoped he hadn’t just been too busy thinking about what Oracle Miquiztli would say about that strange machine to hear something important.

The stupid face Ford was giving him got the conman to snort in amusement. “Ford it’s just,” he paused to snicker, his brother was simply too dramatic to be taken seriously sometimes, “the Blob Monsters are avoiding the live wires up there,” he quietly chuckled, momentarily sidelining his anxiety for humor.

The scientist picked up on the fact that he was being laughed at but it didn’t bother him any, it was making Stan happy right now and that was all that mattered to him. After what he had just endured, he would’ve allowed him to tease him the rest of the day with no complaints. “My my, would you look at that.” He observed, taking an old, tattered journal from his breast pocket to jot down Stan’s new discovery.

As the scientist scribbled away on a blank page near the end of the book, Stan peered back at the Flashback Giver 3000 with a mixture of fear and bafflement. Just what had the purpose of that even been? Surely the informational screen would’ve told him, but it was inside the room and he definitely didn’t want to risk starting another freak memory incident. He tore his eyes away from one machine just for them to land on the next one on the other side of the room, guarding the entrance to the next ring. It also had a steel and wire limb ending in a camera tucked away in the top corner, as well as an informational button to press to activate a television screen above it. So they were trapped, he realized as a dense stone of horror settled in his stomach. With grossly bloated zombies hunkered down on the tops of the walls, the only way in or out now was through the mental anguish causing machines if they didn’t want to risk provoking the horde.

Actually, hang on a second. That wasn’t true, it was just his head being all jumpy from briefly being back in one of his worst memories. There were three alternate routes they could take that he saw in his mind and two were considerably better than the other. Stan wasn’t too sure Ford would be keen on wasting another shot from his Quantum Destabilizer to melt a hole in the wall so he didn’t even bother to ask about it.

Honestly he was just glad he was doing something to get his mind off of the echoes of his past right now so he took it upon himself to swipe Ford’s Freeze Gun from its holster, earning him a raised eyebrow and a side glance from his brother after doing so.

“Don’t worry Sixer, I’m about ‘ta build us a bridge that’ll put every other one to shame. We’ll go up an’ over the zombies and they won’t even know how to handle that.” He clarified, pointing the business end of the weapon at the floor. If he did this right, then they would be able to walk right over all the ugly obstacles and give them the middle finger the whole way. It seemed like the gun had other plans because it only managed to build a mound a meter high before it weakly fizzled out and died. “What?” Stan puzzled, inspecting the weapon. “Damn, out of power.” He muttered, stuffing the thing irritatedly back into Ford’s holster.

“What about the grappling hook?” The scientist questioned as he closed his journal, his head upturned to the collapsing glass dome overhead. He frowned a little, unsure of his faith in the ceiling to hold their weight as he made a mental note to repower his gun.

“I was goin’ for that next.” Stan responded, equipping the thing.

One well placed shot at an overhanging length of steel beam later, the hook was securely attached. Just for good measure, Stan gave a decent tug on the line, which didn’t end exactly how he had been hoping. The entire roof groaned as if it were dying and one of the cross beams snapped, breaking glass and sending a rain of see-through swords crashing down into their general location. Ford dove into a somersault to prevent an entire sheet of glass from smashing on top of him as Stan protected his head with his hands and ran out of the range of the falling attackers. Several tangles of blue vines descended to the floor, with the bulbous monstrosities reaching out with their tendrils to snatch any food in their vicinity. One pane in particular landed directly on top of one of the wax figures and sliced its entire abdomen open as it shattered, spilling its green intestines and teaching Stan that they weren’t statues at all but real people.

When all was quiet and the creaking of the ceiling stopped, Stan cried, “Awright, nevermind then, geez. We’ll go through the freakin’ machine,” eyeing the disemboweled individual.

“Well that’s a nasty looking evisceration. I’m glad that’s not us.” Ford commented, also staring at the body. 

Just then, the most peculiar thing happened and the damaged body healed itself right back up, like time itself had reversed in that one spot. The digestive organ knit itself back together and returned to its place in the abdominal cavity as skin and muscle fused. When all was done, it appeared as though no damage had ever come to the body in the first place.

“How peculiar.” The sweater wearing man muttered and walked up to the now dented autopsy table.

“Sweet Moses this day just keeps getting weirder.” Stan exclaimed, approaching the scene behind his sibling.

Upon closer inspection, Stan found the bearish alien bodies were perfectly preserved like they had only just barely drifted off to their forever sleep. But that couldn’t be possible, this whole place was slowly rotting away and was warm enough that decomposition surely should’ve set in by now. Stan scratched his head, puzzled that they could’ve been in such good shape when he saw it. Each of the half dozen or so specimens were wearing a pair of silver, rune inscribed chain bracelets. In his mind, they seemed to be sellable for a pretty penny at least so he unfastened one from the nearest corpse and attached it to his own wrist. He needed a little something to cheer himself up and that sparkling silver bracelet was just the thing. 

“Stan, what are you doing?” Ford questioned him with a hint of judgement, his hand hovering over the button to play Oracle Miquiztli’s video.

“Takin’ this bad boy with me.” He grinned, flashing the expensive piece of jewelry. He came to Ford’s side so he could also view the screen and argued, “Before you say anything else, I’ve already grave robbed before and you didn’t seem to mind,” patting his breast pocket where he was holding onto Soos’s souvenir, the heart pumping artifact from a dungeon guardian.

“Fair enough.” Ford shrugged and pushed the button, retracting his judgement. He was nothing if not consistent in his logic.

Oracle Miquiztli’s broad shoulders took up much of the cracked screen and he smiled tiredly at the camera, the bags under his eyes making it look like he hadn’t slept in days. There was fewer staff in the background and they all hurried about, as if stressed, while doing their jobs. 

“Welcome friends, I have several updates for you.” He stated, as if motioning for the audience to come closer with his armored fingers. “The bad news is we’ve stopped giving tours since the, uh, overall situation has worsened but I’m trying to stay positive. The city has been evacuated, so it’s just my staff and I here now. Long story short, I don’t really know who I’m talking to making these videos, but they make me happy so I shall continue. It’s good to have hobbies, y’know.”

The lighting flickered out in the video, which the holy man responded to by casting a Light Spell so he could continue filming as the scientists in the background collectively groaned. A few ran off camera, presumably to try and fix the problem. “People die so rapidly from the curse and Restoration Potion ingredients are so sparse nowadays that curing an individual in life is nearly impossible. So I got to thinking, is there a way to bring a man back from beyond the grave, reach him all the way from Mictlan even, and restore him to life? Well I have good news, I’ve made a breakthrough! …Of a sort. At first I thought I’d found a way to keep that wretched curse from destroying the body, only to discover it only works if you’re already dead!” 

He sighed, “Useful, I know,” and laughed awkwardly. On the table in front of him, he picked up a pair of silver, runed bracelets, like the exact one Stan had stolen off of the body, and held them up to show the camera. The oracle went on, “Anyways, they’re not completely useless at least. They protect the body from decay or harm, which is good for research purposes if you just so happen to be in the middle of an apocalypse and you have to conserve power by keeping your morgue freezers from running.” 

He laughed a little and said, “I suppose if you’re planning on doing something morbid like burning yourself alive, there will be no evidence of it when you give up the ghost. The mortician will have no need to make you look pretty because my bracelets will have already gotten the job done.” Miquiztli snickered with his snout in his gauntleted hand and added, “I apologize, my circumstances have given me a dark sense of humor.” Then he said to himself as he gazed at his invention, “…I really should name them,” and the cracked screen fizzled into static and went black.

“Hey at least if I die in a fiery explosion I’ll still keep my good looks.” Stan chuckled, holding up his hand to admire the way the artifact complimented his wrist. 

But when he studied the jewelry, with all their mystical blue glowing symbols and fine silver metal working, he couldn’t help but be reminded of Dipper. The kid would’ve loved to wear something as good looking and mysterious as them and so he snatched the other off of the body he had stolen from previously and fastened it around his other wrist. Now with one at the base of each hand, he had one for him and one to take home to give to Dipper and the thought brought a bit of warmth to his troubled heart.

Ford smirked at him but said nothing since he knew no matter what he said to Stan, he would surely respond with something along the lines of them being identical twins and what he said applied to both of them. 

“Your silence is very telling, Sixer. Y’know we’re identical right?” Stan said with a cheeky grin, nudging him in the ribs. Maybe if he just pretended like he was fine he could trick his head into actually being that way.

Ah well, Ford tried. Not even a wordless response saved him. After rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Ford surveyed the room one final time, his smile turning upside down when he realized they had uncovered all the secrets to this area already. Now the only way to the next half-ring was through another one of those distressing scanners. While he knew they must leave no stone unturned in their search for the oracle’s gauntlets, he wasn’t exactly looking forward to overturning a rock that he was certain would cause mental distress. 

With a sigh, he turned to his brother and asked him gently, “Stanley, are you ready to move on to the next scanner?”

“You’re a real buzz-kill sometimes, y’know?” Stan sighed, his innards knotting up with dread.

“I apologize Stan, I really do. I saw the way that memory afflicted you but I don’t see another path forwards.” He tapped his foot against the ground in thought and added, “Here, what if I draw the machine’s attention this time and shoot it?”

A miniscule smile appeared on Stan’s face and he relayed, “Sounds good. Those things deserve to turn into a smoking pile of scrap metal anyways.”

The old scientist unholstered his blaster and nudged his brother in the ribs back. “Everything will be just fine.” He reassured him and began the short walk to the brain scanning machine.

Famous last words. The conman thought uneasily, his stomach growing more upset with him with every step forwards he took.

Stan’s legs turned to the consistency of wet spaghetti as he stepped into the small, circular, grey and yellow room. His heart began to pound as the plastic doors slid shut behind them and the camera began to whir. Backing up against the wall seemed like a good idea, that way he could get as far away from that damn robotic arm as possible. Ford gave him a warm smile as he stepped in front of him, his gun still ready to fire, sensing his unease. But then his twin did something he wasn’t expecting and he punched the button to the informational panel, ignoring the untranslated, flashing warning sign beneath it. When he did so, it seemed to stall what the larger machine had been preparing to do and the electronic vibrations within the walls paused.

Just like every other time, the bear-like oracle smiled at the camera as he came into focus on the screen and offered a small but exhausted wave. His fur was rather disheveled and his lab coat was sporting several new unidentified stains, while faint gunfire could be heard off in the distance. He said, “Welcome back friends. Please, uh, excuse the gunfire, the hordes like to get up close and personal these days. Anyways, I didn’t make this video to bore you with the details of my life.” He cleared his throat and went on, “I’ve had to invent a way to scan my staff for that mouthy curse after an, erm, well let’s just call it an incident occurred. And may Dr. Tlaca and Dr. Mayeh rest in peace. Honestly, I should’ve done this weeks ago. But I guess the second best time to plant a tree is today and all that.”

A distant scream of terror from outside made it to the bear’s ears and he glanced in its direction nervously before deciding to ignore it and stated further, “In order to confront the present you must confront the past. That is, the very thing you’re standing in now is my Undead Curse Detector, or UCD for short, which scans the brain at security checkpoints and reads what’s on your mind to create distress and gauge your emotional response.” His expression turned anxious and he quickly added, “One thing to note though, i-if they start triggering flashbacks or any sort of trauma response, come and get me because they are not supposed to do that.”

Stan made a grumble of unease and Ford shot the robotic scanner a disquieted look.

The alien carried on with speaking, “Anyways, ahem, because the curse always begins in the Limbic System of the brain, those who are infected will have a heightened emotional response, usually an extremely aggressive one, to the stimuli and an alarm will sound. Then it’ll lock you in when this is detected.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and continued, “It’s a rather primitive method, I know, but so far it’s eighty eight percent effective. So take a deep breath, relax, and think good thoughts as your brainwaves are scanned.” The oracle paused to tap his clawed fingers against the desk. “Oh! Please, please, please go through one at a time. I haven’t had the time to test it with groups yet but I know it works when you pop through in an orderly fashion, one at a time. I do not want to have to deal with,” he sighed deeply and his bearish ears flattened against his head in a distressed manner, “anything that can be avoided.”

One at a time huh? Well that’s not good… Stan thought apprehensively, scooting as far away from his brother as he could get. 

In a burst of static, the movie ended abruptly and the camera droned loudly as it rose from its dormant state and moved about fluidly to search for any lifeforms to scan. A buzzing came from all around them while the UCD finished powering itself up, but Ford wasn’t going to give it the chance to complete its job. While he kept himself calm he aimed at the robotic limb with a scowl and his finger went for the trigger, only for the computer to be faster. A burst of bright light blinded him and he got a singular shot off before everything changed.

Ford felt his fingers and toes go numb from the chill of phantom snow as his own head chained him up and pulled him back to over thirty years ago. He was helpless to stop it.

His chest was heaving, lungs cold from rapidly taking in so many breaths of icy January air, which now tasted heavily of rot. Countless blasted corpses lay dead for a second time around him, Cipher’s attempt at stopping him from creating his Bill-Proof Suit mostly foiled. He kept running for his car, his safety, and two more creatures of rot sprung from within their graves, chortling all the way with the demon’s voice. Impossibly, their eyes glowed an electric yellow, grasping with bone bear hands at his legs and Ford shot them to pieces. The scientist reached within his trench coat pocket, shakily fishing out a handful more slugs and reloaded his shotgun, never stopping. Another three undead stumbled onto the road and in the next second, they collapsed in on themselves, their spines having been blasted away by well placed thirteen gauged lumps of hot lead.

But one last zombie stood between him and his car, grinning madly with its toxically yellow, slit pupiled eyes. The wind whipped the last stubborn strands of its hair around on its head as it pulled on Ford’s trench coat and the man raised his shotgun threateningly as Cipher cackled. But the Zom-Bill still didn’t charge, instead the demon spoke to him.

“Fordsy, nobody else really gets you, do they? Without me, you’ll always feel unseen, surrounded by dolts who don’t really recognize your true potential. You’ve always felt alone in a crowd, haven’t you? Who else will give you this feeling again? Even if you got rid of me, you’d miss me. Admit it, you’d miss me.” Bill said in a sing-song voice.

Hearing his voice for the first time since learning of his betrayal nearly shocked him into paralysis. The emotional hurt Ford felt ran deep, like the head of a spear thrust into his heart and it made all of him ache something awful. It was all fresh and raw, stinging agonisingly but the blow was so new he was still struggling to wrap his mind around the fact that this was still actually happening. He couldn’t breathe, there wasn’t enough air in the world to slow the rapid rising and falling of his chest. 

Ford hesitated, all the fight in him briefly leaving and replaced with longing for things to go back to the way they were, for him to return to the bliss of ignorance. “I have missed you.” He admitted.

Cipher grinned.

“But my aim is getting better.” He growled and fired his shotgun, crumpling Bill to the ground. Then he angrily let off two more shots and spat where the demon had stood just for good measure. That would surely show him what he thought of him now.

Some small, childish part of him wished Cipher would’ve died alongside the undead he blasted to bits. That would be a whole lot easier to bear than the emotional agony that made his whole body sore from the hurt of humiliation. His head throbbed like it had been split open and his heart wept had been stomped into a sludge. Over two years fond memories, good times, and long nights spent together with just the two of them meant nothing now. It was all for naught, just a game Cipher had been playing and he was the pawn. His Muse wasn’t who he thought he was. He was a monster.

The young scientist limped further down the road and out of the graveyard, only to see Stan running straight for him and looking incredibly concerned. Wait, Stanley, what on earth was he doing here? And why was he so old? 

Ford’s face was frozen in panic and as white as a bleached sheet while he seemed to stare straight through his brother and to the ends of the earth itself rather than right at him. He raised his arms, as if he was holding a gun of some sort and went rigid as a plank of wood, his fists balled and shaking. 

“Get back!” He cried with a mixture of a whimper and a growl, holding his weapon in front of him. “I’m not falling for your tricks, Cipher. I won’t hesitate to fire.”

“Hey Ford, are you with us?” Stan cooed. “It’s me, Stan.”

“Silence!” Ford barked. Cheap visual hallucinations weren’t going to get the better of him and he took a careful side step around the imposter, closer to his car. “You can’t fool me.”

His brother’s face turned to sorrow, real and human. The scientist recognized the pain behind his eyes and in the tightness of his face, telling the back of his mind that something was off. “This isn’t how it happened, Ford.” Stan replied with fatigue. “You’ve already lived through this before, it ain’t gonna hurt you.”

Ford’s eyes sharpened somewhat with recognition upon hearing Stan’s words and he gazed at him with a fearful expression, the backdrop of the graveyard slowly melting away into the grey and yellow room of the UCD. His brother smiled and tried gently to take him, whose arms were still stiffly out and holding an invisible shotgun, by his hands and Ford flinched but allowed him to do so without a fight.

“You’re safe, Ford. Everyone’s safe. There’s nothin’ to worry about.” Stan reminded him over and over as he continued to hold Ford’s hands and slowly lead him out of the room and into the next ring of the research center.

Ford tried to focus on his rationality as he felt his brother’s steady hands in his own quivering ones. He recognized the alien light pouring in from the collapsed ceiling, which was the exact opposite of midnight in a Gravity Falls graveyard. The air was fresh, nothing like the pungent odor of risen corpses. The weight of his backpack against his shoulders, as well as the goggles and bandana hanging around his neck, told him he was in the Multiverse. Over the course of a minute, he was able to finally relax his muscles a miniscule amount at a time and let out a strained sigh.

“Stan… What happened?” He asked hoarsely.

Stan smiled empathetically at his twin, “You were somewhere else for a minute, the scanner got ya. Welcome back to the present.”

Ford groaned pathetically and whispered, “Thank you, Stan.” 

So that’s what it felt like to endure the scan of the UCD, which was what it was apparently named. Did every scientist before them that used such machines to move about in this facility have to endure that every time? Or were they simply misusing the machinery? Probably the latter, it was Oracle Miquiztli that had said they weren’t supposed to give vivid retellings of the past so it  was likely a malfunction due to age and a lack of regular maintenance, if he had to guess. And what sort of heightened emotional reaction could the thing even be looking for if full blown panic wasn’t good enough? The studious man couldn’t say and the unanswered questions irked him.  

“Uh huh.” Stan grunted as a chest full of heartache grew inside his ribcage. “Are you… okay?” He eventually added. 

Ford wished in retrospect that he could’ve said that the words uttered long ago by a villain he no longer respected hadn’t hit him like the swing of a sledgehammer to his heart, nor had they hurt like a whip taken to the bottom of his feet, or stung as if he had a swarm of angry hornets under his sweater. But in that moment they did and it was because they had reminded him of who he really was, an unforgivable outcast with too much blood and sin on his hands to ever wash out. What a fool he had been to ever summon the demon in the first place. Such an action had led to life altering consequences and cast him off, far from his family. A nausea inducing bout of anxiety and insecurity churned in his stomach at the thought that he tried to reason away. He had been continuously working to uproot Cipher from his life, that was why he was where he was, specifically with Stan, he told himself. Even then, his own explanation didn’t seem to settle quite right with him.

“Yes, I think I’ll be fine.” Ford sucked in a shaky breath while the trembling of his hands and feet slowly subsided and went on, “Eventually.” He silently cursed the new fog that had entered his mind and the exhaustion in his bones as his body tried to return to a neutral state of rest and digest, but without much success. The lingering anxiety was too stubborn for him to relax. With a silent grumble, he became frustrated with himself. Some brother he was by holding them up by deciding to be immature enough to get rattled by some old memory that couldn’t even hurt him.

“Yeah jus’, just try and take it easy for a while, yeah?” Stan told him kindly and finally let go of his hands. 

Unfortunately, Stan couldn’t say he was surprised by what he had witnessed back there. After discovering his studious brother’s hidden study and learning about Bill, the memory was actually very on par with what he would expect from the demon. But that was what broke his heart, knowing so much pain had come to his brother at that psychopath’s hands that it didn’t even surprise him anymore when he discovered something new about Ford’s past. He had been thrown into that graveyard, confused and afraid, praying it wasn’t him who was having yet another flashback since believe it or not, he also had trauma regarding them. But then he saw Ford, young, running, and so, so afraid and he knew he had to get to him. 

Ford said in a worn out tone, “If only we could.” 

Cipher’s words echoed in his mind once more and were like acid to bare skin. Without me, you’ll always feel unseen, surrounded by dolts who don’t really recognize your true potential. But that was a lie, his twin brother made him feel quite seen at the moment. What really got to him was that he knew he had believed such nonsense for so long and hurt those who were close to him in doing so. Like Stan, who was giving him his wholehearted support and kindness regardless. It wasn’t what he deserved and that ached deeper and more intensely than the Demon King’s flattery.

“Well, try an’ relax as much as you can then.” Stan sighed, attempting to take his own advice in the process and not fall apart into a nervous wreck himself.

The old scientist slowly shook his head as he studied their new surroundings, his mouth a tight line. “Will do.” 

This ring of the research center was much smaller than the previous two, being incredibly close to the center of the building. It held the same dirt caked tiles and white, grimy paint as the rest of the place and now was littered with shards of glass thanks to Stan’s attempt at swinging from the ceiling. What was of interest to Ford though was how the space looked like it had previously had another function than what was presented to them now. The walls were lined with canvas covered medical machinery of all shapes and sizes, left to collect dust, out of the way until they were needed again. Most likely, this is where the natives had decided to store all their old cancer research equipment until it could be used, unaware that day would never come. Instead at least twenty runed ceramic cauldrons, each as large as a bathtub, took up the space with a steel burner circling underneath them. A gas canister as tall as the twins accompanied each cauldron, presumably to provide fuel for the flames. 

But right off the bat, two observations struck Ford as odd. The first was that there seemed to be trace amounts of gold and crystal around. Empty bags of gold dust scattered the floor, along with the occasional sparkling of an amethyst. Those were base potion ingredients for the healing class of brewing, including the Restoration Potion, which he knew could cure the zombifying curse if the victim was still alive. So why had production of the life saving medication stopped? The second was that the bloated, tentacled monsters were absent from atop the far wall. Instead, girthy obsidian hued tendrils, as thick around as the branches of a healthy oak tree, grew over several portions of the wall and spiderwebbed out with smaller versions of themselves like a terrifying fractal. 

He took a singular step forward, crunched some glass under his boot, and jumped about a foot in the air at the sound. Well so much for relying on his intellect to help him with the aftermath of re-experiencing a terrible memory. His racing heart was back and his fists clenched involuntarily for a fight that didn’t exist. But after the initial animalistic panic ran its course, he took in a lungful of air and rested his hands on his knees as he listened to his pulse diminish in volume. His legs wanted to race as quickly as they could and hide him in the nearest dark corner he could find, but he gripped the front of his pants tightly to make running difficult for himself and willed his feet to remain firmly planted where they were.

“Heh heh, I guess we’re both all rattled up now.” Stan laughed nervously as he came up beside him to lend his comfort.

I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine. Ford told himself over and over as Stan placed a hand on his back. There are no zombies here to hurt you. Wait, actually scratch that. There are no Cipher possessed zombies here to hurt you. He thought. It didn’t calm him much.

“Deep breaths Sixer, you got it.” Stan whispered. There was a beat of silence as he contemplated his next words and then he went on, “And your gun can kick his stupid ass anyways,” and gave a few healthy pats to the Quantum Destabilizer.

Ford felt the metallic reverberations of the gun travel through his backpack and then to him. Huh, actually that reminded him. “Th-thanks, Stan.” He said breathlessly, letting his weighty pack drop to the floor and sitting down to open one of the side pockets.

Inside was none other than Mabel’s bagged care package she had secretly snuck into his bag and he took a considerably tangled length of lavender yarn from it and got straight to work removing all the pesky knots, hoping it would soothe his worries. But not fifteen seconds after he began, the demon’s shrill laughter and the glow of undead eyes filled his head. Because Cipher knew him, knew him too well, and had told it like it was as he mocked him. He did feel lonely in a crowd, sometimes with his own family even, and he feared it. But why? Why couldn’t he just jump back in, build his relationship back with Stan and the kids just like he had with Mabel? It wasn’t a lack of trust, nor miscommunication on their intentions for one another, so what was his problem? He anxiously huffed and buried himself deeper into his task, trying not to dwell on the insecurities of his mind any longer. He needed to relax.

Stan accompanied his scientific twin, drawing his knees to his chest as he let his chin rest atop them while he hugged his legs. As tired as he was, closing his eyes wasn’t something his brain was going to let him do, for the broken part of his head had drilled it into him that he had to remain vigilant. He had to keep his eyes peeled, his knuckle dusters close, and never get too comfortable. As he sat there with nothing to distract him, his head began to slip back into the past, urging him to think back to that night in Colombia and scrutinize its every detail. The old man fought against it, so he spent his time slowly scanning the room, going over anything he saw that was familiar to him. He recognized the blueish, chewed on plants hanging from the ceiling and the specks of glittering gold mixed in with the dust of the floor he was too upset to care about, and his brother fidgeting away next to him, feeling his arms moving against his own.

I was counting on you not to mess this up, Pinefield. Rico’s hateful voice yelled in his head, feeling the phantom blow of a punch in his gut. 

You cheat, you lie, and it gets you nowhere, you think you’re smart but all you do is cost us. The ghostly sting of a blade cutting into his neck made itself known as he heard Jorge spit those words in his brain and he found his hands involuntarily twitching for his throat, trying to slow the past bleeding that was stuck in his present.

He applied pressure to his scar, only to discover it was just that, a scar. But the spoken words of friends-turned-enemies of old stayed with him as the hurt dissolved, bringing the simmering humiliation within him to a boil. Ouch, nope, that shocked him back into near panic. He took in several deep breaths, remembering the advice he gave to Dipper when he had found the boy in distress in Ford’s old study, and changed his tactics. Repeating to himself over and over that he was safe(ish), he allowed just a small part of himself to imagine he was back home, at the Mystery Shack in the living room, sipping on a beer. Mabel was knitting at his feet, watching something so colorful it should’ve been illegal for searing his retinas, while Dipper was perched on the T. Rex skull with Pacifica, whispering to her. And heck Ford was there too, maybe he was even reading some boring old book while he sat next to him. It brought him comfort and he was able to rest on the dirty floor of a forgotten place, taking a mental break by retreating to that happy little corner in his brain. 

So they hunkered down that way in the middle of the room, both wordlessly deciding they needed a rest before continuing on with this dangerous adventure that had turned hellish. 

Chapter Text

A few minutes passed, allowing the anxieties of the twins to cool to a gentle simmer sitting side by side in the apocalyptic research center. Something crashed near the far left end of the half-ring room they were in and a mobile X-ray machine slowly rolled out into the center of the space, dislodged from underneath the canvas. Both mens’ eyes snapped to the source of the sound, their bodies going straight back to a state of stress as the blood flow to their limbs increased to fight or flee. It was then that they saw that one of the bulbous zombies, an exceedingly large one at that, had unattached itself from its resting place and was now moving out into the open. The tendrils that grew from its bottom half were more developed than its friends’ on the wall tops, resembling limbs more than vine-like growths. It charged straight for them, moving its bloated body like a caterpillar as one of the arms from the originally infected individual dragged behind it. Its jaws snapped greedily, spilling a thick mucus-like saliva onto the cracked tile.

“Uh, I didn’t know they could move.” Stan cried, jumping to his feet and loading the crossbow as quickly as his quaking hands could manage.

“I think… only this one can.” Ford replied and prayed he was correct while he eyed the other zombies on the top of the wall behind them. The rest of them were substantially smaller and shorter in length, seemingly dug in place. 

The monstrosity plowed straight through a cauldron, tipping it off its squat stand and cracking it in several places. An ear bleeding shriek bellowed from its mouth, making the two brothers wince. 

“I sure hope you’re right about that.” The conman said uneasily, glancing at the other freaks of nature nearby. 

Aiming at the overgrown thing that ran at them in a straight line was easy for him, but deciding where to fire was not. Stan couldn’t make out any important looking spots on the beast, it was the same lumpy tissue everywhere but the mouth and limbs. So he decided shooting it straight in the kisser was a good idea. The blessed arrow soared gracefully through the air, embedding itself straight into the back of the abomination’s mouth, knocking out a sharp tooth along the way. A strangled cry gurgled out from its lips and it thrashed its front, coughing and trying to dislodge the projectile. It was only a few seconds later when after some violent heaving, the arrow did come loose from its jaw and the satisfactory smile was wiped straight off Stan’s face. Even with a flesh wound, the zombie still hungrily slithered forwards. That was until a few well placed blasts to its legs on Ford’s part lost it its footing and fell it to the ground, dissuading it from pursuing these particular prey items for the time being. With a hiss, it backed away and turned around.

“Heh, they’re not so tough.” Stan smirked, watching the creature skitter away. “I didn’t even have to throw a single punch.”

The bloated curse scrambled back up onto the top of the wall, rejoining its kin just below a particularly thick grouping of hanging plant life, and snapped at the easy food in a famished manner before settling back down and laying still once it got a hefty mouthful.

“They seem somewhat similar to crocodilians.” Ford pondered.

“You’ve lost it, Sixer. That thing looks nothin’ like a croc.” Stan snorted, hating that all the different ways his brain told him he was in danger were stacking on top of each other and mixing into a smoothie of flashback and zombie terror.

Forcing himself to continue down his avenue of scientific thought to keep his anxiety induced nausea from overwhelming him, Ford continued, “Well yes, that is true at least. But I meant in terms of the biological niche they appear to fill. The zombies earliest in their life are small but nimble, catching anything they can. Then as they grow, they settle down and become stationary, opportunistic hunters. Those with the most food become the largest and move about, having the biggest ‘territory’ so to speak, where they ambush prey.” He shrugged and added, “It’s not a perfect comparison by any means, just an observation.”

“Well then- oh sweet Moses. Again?” Stan complained, seeing the blob-like centipede creature crawl off the wall and in their direction once more.

It slurped up the last of the plant matter hanging from its lips and knitted gums back together, the knocked out tooth replacing itself with an inhuman level of regeneration. Now fully healed from its meal, it steadily marched to them, going slow enough to tank Ford’s blaster hits even as its inky skin burned away at the touch of the older twin’s gun blasts, leaving a thick layer of fat to burn and stink up the air. Still, it traveled at a speed where the humans needed to continuously back away to stay out of reach of its jaws, towards the inner wall. 

Stan went to shoot his arrow just in the same location he had before to weaken the threat their enemy posed, only for the sausage shaped undead to make use of its bloat by contracting its muscles to bring it down over its mouth, creating a fatty shield. When Stan fired, it didn’t deter the abomination whatsoever since the sharp tip hit nothing but fat and it lunged at them, forcing them to scramble backwards.

“Clever girl.” Stan growled as he took another step backwards.

Seeing as they were currently being herded back towards the open doors of the next UCD, Ford took a chance and dive-rolled to his right, hoping to get around the creature. Stan saw what his brother was going for and lifted his foot to make a mad dash in the opposite direction, making it harder for the curse to pen them in anywhere. But his previous statement was more correct than he knew because the piggy abomination spat a thick, sticky wad of wretched yellow mucus straight at his feet, gluing him in place. Then it used its superior length to keep Ford from running and side slammed him, sending him flying back off his feet.

“I take it back, these are nothing like crocodilians.” The scientist winced, feeling a throbbing pain in his hip as he got to his feet. “Their metabolisms burn much too quickly.”

With a disgusting squelching noise, Stan tore one leg free like a mouse unsticking itself from a glue trap. “And the fact that it just outsmarted us had nothing to do with it?” He shot, gesturing frustratedly at the creature that came ever closer.

“Well, I was wondering how something so lumbering and poorly camouflaged could possibly capture prey. Now I know.” Ford commented, pulling his brother completely free from the ensnarement, plus a few additional feet backwards to distance them from the predator. Feeding the curious portion of his mind was helping him better manage the stressed, broken part of it and for that, a piece of him was grateful they were being attacked by such a bizarre parasite.

Now only five or so steps away from the inner wall dense with tendril growth, the scientist was well aware that they were dangerously close to being pinned between a rock and a hard place. He shot off several more high powered blaster lasers, sizzling the fatty exterior of the undead like bacon but not doing enough to get it to back off. His twin shot yet another arrow at its mouth, but it was blocked again. Biting back a curse, Ford holstered his almost useless weapon and replaced it with the Staff of Light, out of other options. It hummed pleasantly in his hands as his vision rapidly scanned the room, his synapses firing to think of a way out that didn’t involve wasting another precious shot of his Quantum Destabilizer. But he was exhausted, he was out of ideas, and his head was too swamped with a vision of the past to really fire on all cylinders for an escape plan.

“Ford, I gotta idea. We can hide out in there.” Stan whispered to him, nodding his head towards the nearby Undead Curse Detector.

Weighty unease settled uncomfortably in Ford’s belly and while the abominable centipede rushed straight for them, he knew there was no time to do anything but trust his brother. He lunged, narrowly avoiding a blob of putrid, sticky saliva and scrambled on all fours to make it inside the UCD just as Stan did, closing the grey doors behind them.

“Stan! What on earth are we doing in here?” Ford cried, getting to his feet. The monster outside rammed into the door, shaking the room but otherwise doing no damage. A few seconds later, it did the same thing and roared irritatedly before the muffled sounds of it walking away could be heard.

Stan stomped the thick plastic beneath his feet and explained with a tense expression, “When I noticed your blaster didn’t do a damn thing to the last one, I realized these things are tanky. So it can’t get us in here an’ I think that’s better than bein’ zombie chum.” He worriedly broke eye contact to mutter at the floor, “But I wanna be here jus’ about as much as you do.”

“Out of the frying pan and into the fire…” Ford muttered, pressing the button to the informational panel. 

His nerves were shot to hell, as were Stan’s if the way he was death glaring the scanner was any indication, and what he knew awaited one of the two of them in the coming minutes made his vision swim and his chest want to heave in fright. To counteract the weakness in his legs, he leaned back against the curved inner wall, wishing he hadn’t dropped the lavender yarn.

The video on screen was shaky while Oracle Miquiztli set up the camera on a table top, the bags under his bloodshot eyes had deepened since the last time. He appeared rattled and the location of filming was the same as the first, being the centermost circle in the building, his personal lab. The bear laughed nervously and pulled down the collar of his shirt to show the camera a gnashing, blackened mouth of sharp teeth stretching across his collarbone and started in his Norwegian accent, “As the world fell to this curse, I found my Gauntlets of Perseverance useful for fighting off hordes of unholy grasping zombie hands and would make regular, well, culling trips outside the lab to keep their growth in control. I may have gotten a little too comfortable around the hordes and have finally paid the terrible price for it. I didn’t even notice I had exhausted my bells for one of them to scratch me until it was too late and I began to show symptoms at my desk.” The oracle squeezed his eyes shut, riding out a wave of nausea before he painedly went on, “I’m afraid it’s only because of the much magic that flows through me that I’ve been able to keep this bugger at bay, and keep myself relatively sane, for this long. I don’t know how much more time I have left so I’ll try to keep this brief.” 

They fight off unholy, grasping hands? That sounded an awful lot like the hands in the Blind Caverns to him, Stan thought. With the gauntlets being magical, there was proof there was a good chance they would be immensely useful to entering the Nightmare Realm. But he bit his lip anxiously since he couldn’t just listen to this guy talk, not knowing what to do next with a ticking time bomb of trauma. Ford did though and he yanked the robotic limb down from its folded state near the ceiling and began rapidly searching it for signs of screw heads, plastic covers to pop off, or some sort of off switch. Stan joined his family member and together they continued to listen to what Oracle Miquiztli had to say as they attempted to render the scanner inoperable.

The oracle leaned heavily on the table he was filming on and beaded the sweat from his furry brow before bending over to dry heave off camera. When he collected himself his voice was shaky. “In my effort to keep any afflicted out, I’ve accidentally locked myself in my personal lab, just beyond the doors you see now, and I refuse to smash it to pieces to escape. My intact technology is more valuable than my life, I’m afraid. So I’m trapped here, behind my own life’s work, as my scanner refuses to let me leave.” His eyes flashed with anger and a furious roar shook out from his snout, rattling the camera. Wielding his gauntlets still, he pummeled the granite table, cracking it. But then the sanity returned to him and he winced from his suffering, as if composing himself was a painful ordeal. Frightened by his outburst, he resumed, “I have plenty of food and water, and enough specimens to study while I either die or cure this curse in a last ditch effort. But with the backup generator running, I’ll never worry about my equipment. It can run for decades, even after my death, completing calculations. Maybe somebody will come by and complete my work some day, who knows.” 

Another man doomed by his own life’s work, fighting to the death to undo the demonic harm he accidentally caused himself. Now where have I heard that one before? Ford thought solemnly, reflecting on his own memories that fit the description. Sleepless nights, physical harm, losing control over his own mind and body, it was all the same with the oracle too. 

The holy man cleared his throat and waved off his previous thoughts as he began to shiver from his fever. “Anywho, I have instructed any remaining staff to evacuate into the wilderness. My research center was the last safe space against the undead but now one is to be trapped inside like a tomb. I never would’ve guessed it would be me.” He grumbled, “What an oversight.”  

Stan glanced back at the television and seeing the utter disaster of a state the bear-like man was in brought him straight back to the doorstep of Ford’s house that fateful winter day in 1982. The way he hugged his filthy lab coat for warmth, the various bruises and bumps on his body, and the manic look in his dead tired eyes made him feel like that young mulleted man again staring at his own twin on an icy porch as he aimed a crossbow straight for him.

Fighting back another wave of insanity, he gripped the table and broke chunks of rock off it as his cursed wound gnashed and its tendrils flared, attempting to take control of him. “It’s hopeless,” he growled in a voice that wasn’t quite his own, the demonic one overlapping with his as he and the mouth infecting him spoke in unison, “ever since you’ve run out of potion ingredients it’s been futile. Why do you try?”

Ford grimaced, partially because he hadn’t found a way to take apart that damned scanner and partially because he actually remembered feeling the way the oracle had in the video. It was the sickest he had ever been in his life and no amount of money or any other offer would ever convince him to live through it again. Well, maybe he would in exchange for killing Bill. Maybe.

The holy man gasped for breath, as if he broke the surface of the ocean after nearly drowning. Hunched over his now mangled table, he heaved with only his vocal cords, “Yes, it would take someone terribly clever to reach me and my gauntlets now. We all have something dragging us down at any given moment so good luck using your creativity getting past my personal scanner, the most sensitive of them all. If I don’t see you again, stay safe and see you later, friends.” 

Clever and creative he says? Well then Stan has us covered. Ford thought, watching the oracle reach for the camera button.

The screen shut down into blackness for the final time, indicating to the twins that their time had run out. Ford retaliated by smacking the camera as hard as he could with the Staff of Light, which did literally nothing. Stan donned his knuckle dusters as the whole room vibrated and the scanner began to whir to life. He pummeled the TV screen several times, hoping to get to the wiring and pull something important out but it only cracked.

“No, shit. Shitshitshitshit-” Stan cringed as the camera rose from its idle state to scan the room.

“Wait, let’s put our heads together, maybe it can’t read both of us.” Ford cried, grabbing Stan by the elbow and smashing his brother’s cranium next to his.

With a clicking of internal parts, the camera stopped straight in front of their heads and blinded them with a flare of white light. As the brightness flooded their vision, it paradoxically went dark, bleeding the backdrop of their realities into something dim and foreboding.

With his pulse still rushing from the unexpected knock at the door, Ford stood with his twin brother, the very one he hadn’t seen in over ten years, at the base of the ominous portal. A tornado of thoughts was rampaging in his head, most telling him what a terrible idea this was bringing Stan down here with all his delicate equipment in the first place, but he brushed them off. He needed Stan to understand and get it through his thick head that taking his final journal was of utmost importance, even when his brain chastised him for showing plain evidence of his faults. 

“There is nothing about this I understand.” Stan declared, a shiver going up his spine. It was like whatever he was looking at was staring straight back at him, unblinking, unwavering.

The energy down here was bad, like really bad. Actually, it had been that way ever since he had stepped foot on his brother’s bizarre property. It had been set up with barbed wire and boarded up windows like the middle of the apocalypse, with papers, books, pens, and food wrappers strewn about inside with no regard for cleanliness. The air upstairs was chilly, as was down here, indicating to him his brother was in some hot water financially. But it didn’t seem to end just there, since his family member was in rough shape. Bandages, cuts, and bruises peppered what little skin he was showing and the way he walked hunched over and shivering told him there was more pain hidden under his trenchcoat. He looked like he hadn’t slept in who knew how long and carried a manic look in his eye Stan had never seen before on his usually docile carbon copy, something that harrowed him. It made his instincts all alarmed, telling him something was far from okay. But he couldn’t let good ol’ stuck-up Ford know how unsettled he actually was lest he get chastised for it so he played it off by acting bored.

Ignoring the way his beaten hands ached, the scientist gestured towards the machinery and explained, “It’s a trans-universal gateway, a punched hole through a weak spot in our dimension. I created it to unlock the mysteries of the universe.” He turned back towards his brother and stressed, “But it could just as easily be harnessed for terrible destruction.” As he fished Journal 1 out of his trench coat pocket, he went on, “That’s why I shut it down and hid my journals which explain how to operate it.”

Stan listened closely, his numb hands at his side. So Sixer had gotten himself into some sort of science-y nerd trouble and was probably expecting him to help. He wasn’t exactly thrilled to admit the thought made him want to smile. It was a testament to how poorly Ford had treated him if something as simple as wanting his assistance was enough to get his heart to leap for joy. But he didn’t want to focus on that, he just wanted to be there for his brother, hoping against hope that maybe things could go back to the way they were. 

“There’s only one journal left,” Ford further explained as he handed the tome to his twin, “and you are the only person I can trust to take it. I have something to ask of you,” the scientist said solemnly, his gaze intense, “remember our plans to sail around the world on a boat?” 

The conman felt the worn leather of the crimson and gold trimmed journal against his calloused fingers, hanging onto every word. His uncertain frown was wiped off his face and instead it lit up like the Fourth of July, his eyes sparkling like fireworks. Maybe, just maybe this could all work out, Stan prayed. Maybe he could help Ford leave all his troubles behind on a sailboat to prove to him he was worth it.

“Take this book, get on a boat, and sail as far away as you can. To the edge of the earth. Bury it where no one can find it.” Stanford finished, walking away from his brother as he clasped his hands behind his back, his exhausted joints aching. 

He was satisfied with the explanation he had given his twin, surely now he had to understand. There was much work to be done still and an expedition back to the caves needed to be planned; he had unsolved mysteries to uncover there that may just spell Cipher’s doom. Perhaps the mistakes of the past could be undone. Maybe, just maybe his brother would listen and take the journal. Maybe he would leave and it would shut up the whisperings of his guilty conscience he ignored every time he had to look at Stan.

A thick anger filled Stanley’s veins as he scowled at his brother. He growled, “That’s it? You finally want to see me after ten years, and it’s to tell me to get as far away from you as possible?” Talk about a kick to the shins. Just how self centered was this guy?

So Stan wasn’t listening to him, how typical. Things were being made so much harder than they needed to because his twin was choosing to twist his words in such an immature fashion. As he walked past him with his hands thrown up in irritation, fighting back the horror that clawed at the back of his throat, he cried with equal parts of desperation and frustration, “Stanley you don’t understand what I’ve been up against, what I’ve been through!” That much was true, had Stan even noticed all the bruises on his face and around his wrists that told the story of many more hiding under his thick clothing? Or the days old, blood crusted bandaging he kept tightly around his left hand? Surely not, he hadn’t even mentioned it. 

Well so much for naïvely thinking there was a chance things could get set straight, now Stan was angry. He jabbed a finger in his twin’s direction as he stomped up to him. “No, no, you don’t understand what I’ve been through. I’ve been to prison in three different countries. I once had to chew my way out of the trunk of a car. You think you’ve got problems? I’ve got a mullet, Stanford!” He threw his arms out to gesture at their surroundings and continued, “Meanwhile, where have you been? Living it up in your fancy house in the woods, selfishly hoarding your college money because you only care about yourself.”

“I’m selfish? I’m selfish?” Ford asked rhetorically, gesturing towards himself and continued at a yell, “Stanley, how can you say that after costing me my dream school? I’m giving you a chance to do the first worthwhile thing in your life and you won’t even listen.”

The words of his brother were like fiery darts to his skin but he recycled his hurt into brand new anger. So if Ford was going to be petty, then so could he. Igniting the flame of a lighter he kept in his pocket, he growled, “Well listen to this. You wanted me to get rid of this book?” He brought the flame underneath the book and spat, “Fine, I’ll get rid of it right now.”

A jolt of anxiety as strong as a bolt of lightning shot through Ford and he tried to rip his journal out of Stan’s hands. With the weakened state of his abused body it was a losing battle but he didn’t let go and exclaimed, “No, you don’t understand,” his fatigued heart picking up the pace.

“You said you wanted me to have it so I’ll do what I want with it.” Stan shot back, easily pulling the journal out of his twin’s grasp. He knew he was hurting his brother and he knew he shouldn’t have been behaving like this but dammit, he was too upset to care. Ford was the reason he felt this way so he decided he could give him a taste of his own medicine and he held the flame to the book.

Another flash of nervousness traveled through the scientist’s body upon seeing what his brother was doing. “My research!” He hollered and threw himself into Stan’s backside, making him regret ever turning away from him.

Both of them went to the ground, Ford landing on top of Stan. In a sleep deprived frenzy, the older of the siblings scrambled off of his twin to rush back to the site of Journal 1 laying on the stony floor, only for Stan to sweep his leg and trip him as he got to his feet. The scientist was unable to catch himself with his arms in time and he instead did so with his face as Stan ran by him and picked up the book. Gritting his teeth, Ford pushed himself from the earth and lunged at his brother.

“Stanley, give it back.” He shot, slamming into him once more and throwing the two of them into the main control room of the basement. Of course Stanley was picking a fight with him now, why wouldn’t he? It was like that’s all he knew how to do, besides lie and cheat.

They wrestled for the journal, their scuffle throwing them into one of several control panels with a variety of buttons and levers. Stan landed on top of the computerized equipment, too vexed to care about how the far from soft or smooth thing he was shoved into made his bottom and back protest. “You want it back, you’re gonna have to try harder than that.” He barked, holding the tome tighter as an alarm began to sound, blaring away.

Seeing Ford struggle gave him a twisted sense of satisfaction. It was good, he would keep him fighting. But he wasn’t too keen on staying pressed up against this stupid nerdy machine of Ford’s so he shoved his head away and the rest of his twin went with it, allowing him to jump down. But his weedy brother’s grip didn’t let up and, grappling for the journal, he pulled Stan down to the ground with him.

“You left me behind, you jerk!” The conman yelled as he yanked on the idiotic bundle of paper his brother loved so much, his irateness overshadowing his heartbreak. “It was supposed to be us forever, you ruined my life!”

This took Ford’s fury up a notch since how could someone just be so dense to say the words that just came out of Stan’s mouth? “You ruined your own life!” He cried from the floor, kicking Stan straight in the gut and wrenching Journal 1 from his hands, his eyes squeezed shut to focus on his movements. 

A searing pain more intense than anything the conman had ever felt before exploded at his right shoulder blade and a shriek of pain left his throat before he could even register it was happening. Needless to say he immediately dropped the book since all he could focus on was the utter torment burning his skin and digging even further. The nylon of his coat melted around the heat source, further inflicting suffering to the area immediately around his injury and widening it considerably.

The sizzle of flesh and his own kin’s scream of agony was not the next thing Ford expected to have hit his ears. But when he opened his eyes he saw he had pressed Stan’s backside right up against the glowing red hot side of the control console, running his blood cold. He immediately gave up any fight he had in him, drawing his leg back to himself as a terrible bout of nausea churned in his stomach. He had just hurt his brother. Badly.

Ford’s face crumpled, his journal entirely forgotten, and he cringed, “Stanley! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. Are you- ow!” He was cut off when Stan’s fist came straight for his head and succeeded, dizzying him and sending him stumbling backwards into the main portal room. In his disorientation, he tripped backwards over the emergency start/stop lever, sending a crackling of electricity from the eye of the portal as it rumbled to life.

“Some brother you turned out to be.” Stan seethed, clutching his injured side at the shoulder while his back prickled and puckered with intense pain around the major site of his burn. His twin was outlined in harsh blue light, perfectly matching the way he felt on just about everything the man had said about him today. He limped straight up to Ford, wincing all the way, and growled, “You care more about your dumb mysteries than your family. Well, then you can have ‘em!” 

With one last shove, he slammed the journal back into his twin’s arms, too hurt to even care about egging Ford on anymore. But his brother didn’t fall onto his ass like he thought he would, and instead began floating away towards the mouth of the portal. It was only then that he spotted the striped safety line Ford had crossed over and his breath froze in his throat. 

Anything feeling other than fear immediately left the scientist’s body as his eyes widened to that of dinner plates in alarm when he felt his body come under the pull of the portal. Every cell in his body knew where it led and all thirty trillion of them were screaming out in panic. Being sucked in surely meant a fate worse than death, no, a fate worse than a fate worse than death. Something so abominably terrible he couldn’t even comprehend it. 

“Woah, woah, hey! What’s goin’ on?” Stan questioned apprehensively, beginning to regret his life choices of the last thirty seconds. “Hey, hey! Stanford!” He cried as he began to run towards his family, his own safety be damned.

Oh-no oh-no oh-no oh-no nononononono! Was all that filled Ford’s head as he desperately tried to grab at something, anything, that he could use to propel himself back to the ground. 

He gaped down at Stanley, watching him race after him, as some part of his mind freaked out over the danger he was putting himself in. If both of them got sucked in… He couldn’t even finish the thought! His head was a lightning storm of panic now and all he could think to do was to scream for his brother as the gaping maw of the portal nipped at his trenchcoat. “Stanley, Stanley, help me!” He cried, a thousand different visions of the immediate future going through his head all at once and not one of them anything other than horror. 

Icy dread ripped through Stan as he saw his twin become sucked from his reach, only seconds away from being consumed by his own project. “Oh no! What do I do?” He shouted over the roar of the machine as a snowy horror chilled his spine. What had he done?

“Stanley, Stanley do something!!” Ford implored, his voice saturated in terror as his body crossed the threshold. In a last ditch effort, he hurled Journal 1 as far as he could, his only wish that Stan would use it to remember him by. He swore he could already hear Cipher’s shrill voice, his mocking tone, laughing up the foolishness of his actions.

An explosion of pure white energy ruptured through the center of the portal as the last of Ford disappeared, blinding both men as he was hurled across the membrane of space and time and flinging Stan backwards into the sandy floor. It was the last thing either of them saw before being blanketed in darkness.

The alarm of the icy lab basement transformed into the alarm of the UCD, signifying it found its occupants unwell to continue past its doors, but the two men inside didn’t even recognize this. They were too trapped in their memories to know. 

Ford gasped for air, his limbs flailing in a mad attempt to keep himself from fully reaching the Nightmare Realm to pull himself back into the basement of his lab by some miracle. He was quivering in fright as he scrambled onto his hands and knees, patting himself down to make sure he hadn’t lost any parts of himself to the trans-dimensional gateway.

Stan also picked himself up off the industrial grey and yellow plastic ground, his eyes large and fearful as he stared straight at his twin. Apprehensively, he asked, “...Stanford? You’re back? Wh-what happened?” His shoulder hurt and moving it was torture as he took his first step towards his brother. He didn’t even register the fact that he was currently wearing a hefty backpack and nervously ran his fingers through his mullet, only for them to hit empty air when they reached his neck.

Appearing thoroughly afraid, Ford dashed to his sibling’s side and covered his mouth with his hand before sliding both of them to the ground and pressing them up against the wall. His eyes constantly scanned over every square inch of the room, scrutinizing it for any signs of Cipher and straining his ears for the sound of his grating voice. Since Stan had somehow been sucked into the portal too, he was surely his only hope for survival. An indignant voice in the back of his head carped that of course he was having to correct yet another of Stan’s mistakes but he knew now wasn’t the time for that. Their lives were at stake. 

The scientist whispered with a trembling voice, “Stanley, be quiet. We’re far from safe here. There’s… someone after me.” Even admitting that without any explanation on who Bill was or his relationship with him made his innards squirm uncomfortably. Just thinking of how embarrassingly naïve he had been to ever shake the demon’s hand in the first place made his mouth go dry as sand and his voice close up in his throat.

Stan’s immediate reaction was to reach up to uncover his mouth and ask who exactly he was referencing. But Ford gripped his wrist uncomfortably tight and yanked it back down, his expression clearly terrified. The conman was immensely confused, what was Ford going on about? Obviously it was something important, but he just couldn’t wrap his head around it. 

“He could be anywhere.” Ford mumbled, unblinking in his search.

Something was off about all this, Stan realized even as his heart pounded in his ears and his brain continuously flooded his system with stress chemicals. The alarm of the basement was still ringing but Ford clearly thought they were somewhere else. Had the portal disoriented him that badly? Why was he now so afraid of someone coming for them? And wait a minute, why was there fabric covering his painfully tingling right shoulder? Hadn’t he burned through it all just a second ago? 

“Him?” Stan mumbled muffledly through Ford’s hand.

Whatever was scaring his twin was frightening him too and he also scanned their surroundings, his eyes landing on something he recognized. It wasn’t a good thing, but it was painfully out of place, and the scanner of the UCD he stared at made something click within him. That wasn’t from the lab basement, it was from Dimension 2613-B… Hang on, how did he know that? 

“Y-yes…” Ford trailed off, a wave of horror induced nausea crashing through him. It was difficult to keep what little he had eaten in the last week down knowing he was hiding out with Stan in His domain.

The old conman squeezed his eyes shut to clear his head and when he reopened them, he saw clearly for the first time in well, he didn’t know how long, where he really was. Even as his head shrieked at him that he needed to save his brother, save himself, and filled most of his mind with fear, he still managed to get it through to part of his consciousness that it wasn’t real. He was having yet another flashback. Both of them were having another flashback. Crap.

When he realized Stanford’s hand over his mouth was shaking violently, a vice of empathy squeezed his heart. His twin must’ve thought they were stuck in the Nightmare Realm together three decades ago, unprepared and unequipped to deal with that triangular bastard. Fighting off his own paralyzing fear that came with returning his state of mind to the present, he quietly said, “Hey Six, we’re having a flashback. You’re jus’ fine, you’re not in the Nightmare Realm. He ain’t here.”

Stan was feeling rather helpless at the moment, most likely due to the nature of his most recent relived memory, and knew Ford must’ve too. The scientist turned his head to silently study his twin and oh man, he looked so afraid. Maybe more so than Stan had ever seen him. The blaring of the alarm and the flashing red light in the room with them wasn’t doing him any favors and it threatened to send him straight back to the past, where the image of his brother’s terrified face slipping away into another dimension replayed in his mind over and over again. Growing more upset with the noise by the second, Stanley tightened his grip on his knuckle dusters and tried to stand to give the machine a piece of his mind, only to be thrust back onto his bottom by Ford, who now was death gripping him in a hug.

“Ford, this ain’t real. You’re safe.” He said with more conviction.

His brother only responded with a sad whining noise, causing Stan to sigh heavily and lean his head back against the wall with a dull thud. If he thought he had been tired before, then he was sorely mistaken. Every muscle in his body was heavy with weariness, except for his heart, which didn’t get the memo and kept on at the speed of sound anyways. Trying gently to leave Ford’s grasp again proved to be a bad decision since he only held on tighter, to the point where his knuckles were white clutching his clothes and awkwardly digging into his skin. 

“There’s no danger here, Sixer. It’s just me and you.” He attempted again with no success since Ford just mumbled incomprehensibly to himself like he hadn’t even heard.

So here he was, locked in a small room as he hoped his brother returned to his right mind, with nothing to do but sit with his thoughts. As he gently shifted his weight to a slightly more comfortable position, he felt the slowly subsiding tingling burn on his shoulder, which reminded him of their fight in the first place. He had felt incredibly betrayed by Ford telling him to leave with the journal and had lashed out irresponsibly in his anger. But if he hadn’t reacted the way he did, and instead swallowed his hurt to really understand why his brother had said what he said, could things have been different? Reflecting on this told him he didn’t know, all he did understand was just how much reconciling with his brother had changed him. Up until recently he very much would’ve deflected any blame cast his way, recognizing how he hadn’t admitted he had hurt Ford when he lost him his dream school and instead he had acted on his own pain and tried to light the journal on fire. Fortunately he had grown as a person since then and was grateful for it. But when he thought about it, he hadn’t grown much. Now that it was staring him in the face, he knew he still felt like that broken young man, always trying to play catch up with his superior carbon copy, desperate to show him he was worth something too. The insecure fear, fueled by his forest of past mistakes, of weighing his brother down felt awfully hefty right now as he was bathed in shame. 

He had screwed up countless times. For starters, he hadn’t listened to Ford’s concerns over properly camouflaging in the Multiverse on multiple occasions, which sent him to prison and put them behind schedule. Not to mention being unable to get over himself in a damp dungeon when it would have been helpful for him to do so. No matter what he did, something always seemed to go wrong. Even earlier, he was nothing but a failure to Rico and Jorge, his pa, and his teachers in school. His own high school principal thought he’d be stuck in Jersey for forever, scraping barnacles off the docks. Then he broke Ford’s one shot at getting into a prestigious college and shoved him into a nightmare portal the next time he saw him, the horror of it still sizzling fresh in his mind. Sure, he had talked about it with Ford and he had largely forgiven him, but didn’t this pattern of events extending even as far back as their childhood show him who he was and who he’d always be? A screw up that clung too tightly to his twin, dragging him down.

Beside him, Ford groaned and let up on his uncomfortably tight hug. His joints hurt, his head throbbed, and his heart pounded like it was in the middle of shoulder charging his ribcage over and over again trying to escape his chest. No, he wasn’t in the Nightmare Realm, he was in some tiny overly sterile looking room and was well over the age he had been in his flashback if the aged fatigue in his bones was anything to go by. Or maybe it was just regular lethargy? He wasn’t sure. His mouth was drier than Death Valley with a hoarse scream stuck in his throat, the metaphysical feeling in his raw vocal cords gradually fading back into the past. The thought of the colossal terror he felt being dragged through that portal for the very first time was sitting front and center in his mind, making it difficult for him to completely believe he wasn’t still stuck in a limbo-like state thirty two years ago. But what did manage to communicate to him he really was in the present was his shame, or more accurately, his recognition of said emotion. 

For in the past he would’ve quickly kicked it out or reshaped it into anger, probably aimed at Bill or Stan, but now he simply sat with it, letting it wash over him like the spray of an icy cold shower. That must’ve meant whatever state of mind he was in was after he had met Mabel and after their falling out and his repentance. But it hadn’t really been repentance, had it? If he had thoroughly atoned for those sins, the disgraceful way he had treated those closest to him throughout his life, wouldn’t he have felt free from them? No, instead they clung to his body like countless tumors, reminding him each and every day how despicable he had been and how he continued to be. He still fought with Stan over retrospectively simple things, inadvertently putting him down in the process. Before his brother had come back into his life it was the same story with Mabel, and before her McGucket, and even earlier it wrapped back around to Stanley yet again. So much pain he had caused, especially since he had allowed Cipher to stifle the growth of so many good and virtuous parts of his soul and replace them with noxious weeds of distrust, paranoia, and ego. He pushed Stan away, closed the curtains on him when he needed him the most, and resented him for many years for it. Now he remembered he had spoken to Stan on this at least, pondering their discussion that night he and Mabel had made it home, and knew his twin had forgiven him. But still he felt like he was stained with too much blood to really accept it.

His brother’s startled gasp shook him from his thoughts, as did what he said next. “Ford, jus’ relax, ‘kay? You’re with me, you’re an old geezer just like me, you’re safe. We’re safe.”

Running a shaky hand down his face, the sweater wearing man groaned again whispered, “Stanley, are you alright?”

Stan frowned like someone who hadn’t felt happiness in years. “Not exactly, Sixer. We gotta 2-for-1 special that time. I thought shared dreams were weird, they got nothin’ on shared flashbacks.” His intense mourning for his brother in the days following his disappearance sat on top of his heart as it were brand new, as weighty and bleeding as a gored hippopotamus. He countered this by reminding himself over and over again that Ford was right there with him and he wasn’t going anywhere. Somehow this only made him feel worse.

“Logically, if I wasn’t so worked up right about now, I’m sure I’d be thrilled about this new scientific discovery.” Ford said blankly, fighting the animalistic urge to dart behind a non-existent asteroid to hide from Cipher in the Nightmare Realm. He told himself there was no reason to be afraid, he had over three decades of experience with Bill and his goons. What he was feeling were the panickings of a scientist inexperienced with the realities of the Multiverse, something that was only a distant memory to him now. Or at least he wished it was; his head thought otherwise at the moment. But it was fading, the fear and the adrenaline, leaving behind only the smoky ashes of guilt.

“Nice to know we’re both taking this in stride.” Stan huffed, watching his fingers tremble.

“The doors aren’t open.” Ford observed, abruptly changing the subject as his belly simmered with anxiety. He was eager to not have the same pathetic conversation for the third time today and he liked to think figuring out a way to shut up that irritating alarm was the best idea he’d had all day. 

“Yeah, cuz it doesn’t think we’re zen enough or whatever to go through. We’re locked in.” Stan deadpanned.

“I can’t imagine why.” He replied sarcastically, shuffling over to the UCD scanner folded up in the top corner. 

“We’ve checked that thing already.” Stan reminded him, too tired now to get off the ground.

“Apparently not here.” The scientist said with a worn-out voice, thumbing over a little switch nestled under a string of wires right at the base of the scanner’s folding limb where it met the ceiling. Judging by the short, alien words labeling each way the lever could be flipped, he had to hypothesize it was an on/off switch. 

“Hey- Ford leave that alone. How do ya know it’s not gonna freak out on us?” Stan urged worriedly. The last thing he wanted anyone to do was to mess with that much too sensitive cranium scanner and put it into overdrive or something crazy like that.

“I don’t.” He responded simply and moved the handle to the other side. A small spark of satisfaction glowed within him when he heard the alarm die out and the background humming of the entire machine go silent. 

“You turned it off? Great, that just means it’s going to do the same thing it did last time when we turn it back on.” Stan huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. This had been a bad day, he was done with today. All he wanted to do was sleep.

Attempting to force open the door blocking their path forwards with brute force went about as well for Ford as a man trying to push a mountain and eventually, he gave up. So much for his attempt to get their collective thoughts moving towards their objective rather than dwelling on things of the past. “Then we better pass the test the second time.” Ford said with a massive frown, slowly sliding down the wall to sit next to Stan. To think that the only thing standing in the way of them and the final item they required to face the Blind Caverns again was, well, themselves, was beyond frustrating to him.

As the minutes ticked on in silence, both humans eventually managed to somewhat disentangle themselves from the fears of their former selves, each using the physical contact with their carbon copy to partially persuade their heads they were currently wrong in their worries. At least they talked their own brains down to mostly manageable levels. Ford completely untangled a length of white yarn to calm himself while Stan listened to his brother’s movements, letting it ground him. Nothing bad was happening, they couldn’t be hurt here, and they were together. A cumbersome exhaustion remained unceasingly as their dismay transformed into vague worry, still plagued by the past. But the background thought constantly lingered, making them unable to help but wonder how exactly they were supposed to get themselves out of this predicament, trapped in a machine that saw straight through them and decided they were too broken to continue.

“So…” Stan began after a few minutes or so of downcast silence, tapping his finger tips against his knees, “you come here often?” Being stuck in a tiny, circular room with the final words of a long dead holy guy as the only entertainment didn’t sound like a nice time to him and he wanted out. Hence why he was striking up a conversation with his twin to brainstorm an escape plan.

The scientist snorted, “Not unless I’m stuck inside the faulty brain scanning computer invented by a likely undead oracle.”

“I’ve never heard that sentence before and I doubt I’ll ever hear it again.” Stan commented, shook his head a tiny amount, and complained, “This is like the time we got in that big ol’ fight over the TV and ma locked us in our room until we made peace with each other.”

Ford chuckled softly at the memory. “We must’ve been fourteen at the time, no?” He briefly gazed at their surroundings of dull grey and yellow and added with a hint of unease, “Well there’s no window for us to climb out of now.”

Stan tried not to think about that and went on, “Yeah but by the time we tied all our sheets together and worked together to sneak out, we remembered the true meaning of family or some junk like that. Had a great time at the beach.”

“Yes but when we returned and pa came upstairs and caught us with sand in our hair, he grounded us for a month.” The scientist added.

“Heh, yup those were the days.” The younger of the twins stated wistfully and took a drink from his canteen.

Ford stroked his jaw and thought further on Stan’s metaphor. Perhaps they really did need to make peace with whatever the scanner had seen in them, considering they were locked in this room for the foreseeable future. The UCD certainly seemed to think that was the case since it had mistakenly deemed them too emotionally agitated to be healthy and curse free. But what exactly that entailed wasn’t clear to him. There was no telling what consequences may come from fiddling with the unstable machine to attempt to bypass it and he wasn’t too keen on trying to find out. So they would have to keep the window closed in this situation, so to speak, and pass the test the right way and face the computer’s judgement again when they were ready.

He tucked his fingers into his sweater sleeves and said quietly, “But it’s like you said, now we’re trapped here, forced to…” he sighed and ended under his breath, “work it out,” as an unspoken tension filtered into the room. 

Each knew in the depths of their hearts that escaping their dreadfully dull environment meant going back to and discussing their collective reliving of a traumatic event. But hadn’t they done that already though? They had talked over the details of the night of their fight when Ford went through the portal and worked it out, wasn’t that good enough for the scanner? Apparently not. They dared glance in one another’s direction, only to make eye contact that was swiftly broken, each returning their gazes to the floor. Being in a good enough headspace to pass the UCD’s test seemed impossible right now with the apprehension looming over the two of them like a thick, endless fog. But really, how were they to ever keep moving forward if they never processed the stress they had been caused, only sweeping it under some rug in their brains where they could pretend it wasn’t still painfully visible? Oh. 

Ford blinked owlishly at his thoughts as Stan’s mouth tightened, forming a thin line. The brothers once again took a chance to look at one another, this time pausing as if the other was about to say something. After several seconds of deafening silence that seemed to stretch on for an eternity, Stan took one for the team and was the first to speak.

“So uh, I guess we should get this over with, huh?” He shrugged defeatedly, his head a slurried mess of fear, enervation, and guilt.

“Where do we even start?” Ford questioned with a mumble.

…my Undead Curse Detector… scans the brain at security checkpoints and reads what’s on your mind… The words spoken by Oracle Miquiztli popped into Ford’s head all of the sudden. Well what was on his mind was nothing good, it was eyeing a devilish truth that had stayed with him ever since he had become well aware of the error of his ways battling for Mabel’s life on the streets of Dimension 52. It remained unnamed for now, the scientist not wishing to bring it to light if he didn’t absolutely have to.

“With whatever’ll make that… thing happy.” Stan suggested, gesturing to the UCD scanner. He pinched the bridge of his nose and grumbled, “Hell I dunno Ford, I’m no good with mushy stuff.” Great, here he was messing things up again when he had tried to help out, just like always.

“What does it see that we don’t?” The scientist pondered, his eyes wishing for rest. “Something unresolved in that particular memory? No, surely not. It must be another thing entirely.”

The younger of the twins hugged his arms tightly to his chest. “Yeah, what’s there to resolve? We fought and regretted it somethin’ awful. We said our sorries and it’s finally over. Right?”

Stan couldn’t help but wonder, what was it exactly that made the stupid machine decide it simply didn’t like them the third time around? Was it that it had scanned both of them rather than just one? Maybe, but it had handled the two of them going in together twice before and it had seamlessly booted both of them into a shared memory so he found himself doubting that was the case. All he knew was he felt just as crappy now as he had after the first time, his hefty self doubt lingering like a bad aftertaste in the back of his throat.

“Perhaps it was our already flashback distressed minds that triggered the alarm?” Ford shook his head, which made it start to hurt. “No, if that were simply the case, how would anyone ever have gotten in or out of here under the daily stresses that must’ve come with living in an apocalypse?”

“Maybe we really are infected an’ it is hopeless.” Stan chuckled emptily, silently scolding himself for having nothing more to add to the conversation.

The sweater wearing man gained the anxiety fueled urge to search himself and his brother for signs of the curse before he remembered that no, neither of them had been injured by a zombie thus far and he relaxed somewhat. He cradled his head in his hands and massaged his temples, trying to ease the pain as a wave of paranoia rose in his throat, and groaned, “We’re within spitting distance of these damn gauntlets but we can’t move. Every second in here is one Cipher gains against us.” He had to push away the impulse to scrutinize the room again, searching for the demon king’s watching eyes.

Stan mumbled, “Hey easy Sixer, we’ll figure it out.” Well, maybe. He thought, but he didn’t want to upset his twin any more than he already was. “You gotta gun that eats through everything.” He reminded him, flicking the hardened metal shell of the Quantum Destabilizer and glancing at the locked sliding door that led to the unexplored beyond.

“Every limited shot counts. There’s not enough material available to refuel it once it's empty.” Ford retorted softly as he rested the back of his skull against the wall, letting the unsettling emotion pass.

“Right, ‘course.” He deadpanned as his head also started to throb, as if it protested any further emotional abuse until he had at least taken a fat nap.

Ford got back to thinking, what else could’ve caused the UCD to turn on them this time? If it wasn’t the trauma of living through something terrible in and of itself that tipped the computer off, then what was it? He searched his brain, pondering what else may have been on his and Stan’s mind to trigger it. It bothered him that there just wasn’t enough data around, the sample size he had to go off of was only him and his brother, which was terrible science. But technically he had three experiments to gather data from, so he got to work anyway. 

“Stan, what did it feel like to be scanned by the computer the first time around? Back when we had no idea of its function? And what were you thinking about at the time?” He inquired of his brother, pointing to the UCD camera with sore bones.

The conman stared blankly into the abyss, his vision unfocused as he tried not to feel the numb tears come back to his eyes as his pupils dilated in fear. “You had brought up what the bounty hun’er had said about me so I was thinking about that. But it didn’t feel like nothin’ to get scanned, just like someone was takin’ my picture from two inches away. Then the rest is history an’ I’m back in Colombia, watchin’ myself screw people over yet again an’ gettin’ a sliced belly for it.” He understood where Ford’s questions were coming from, they needed to crack the code of what would set off the UCD to get by it. But damn if only he hadn’t brought up exactly what he was hoping he would be able to keep hidden; that embarrassing secret of how he really thought of himself.

He began to tremble for probably the tenth time today as the scent of jungle air and metallic blood filled his nose but was grounded when Ford’s hand reached for and held onto his own. Stan gazed reverently down at it, letting the gesture evaporate the tears of trauma that formed behind his eyes as they were replaced with those of silent shame filling their place. A thick pain with the consistency of molasses gummed up his heart, making a part of him feel guilty for accepting Ford’s hand as an emotional crutch. He was so drained, physically and emotionally that it paradoxically made him feel light, like he could float away. Ruminating on that day of old told him who he was even still today; a screwup.

Holding fast to his twin’s hand, Ford remembered through an aching mind that he had in fact tried to comfort his brother on what demeaning words the alien hunter had said to him, only to be cut off when he was thrust into Stan’s past. He would never be able to get the cruelty of those horrid men out of his memory, tearing his twin down before wounding him and leaving him for dead. But wait, there was a connection here that he was only now recognizing. It made sense, someone berating him had been on Stan’s mind so the machine picked up on it and chose a trauma where others were doing the same. That could also be said for his own turn with the UCD, it was only logical that the prevalence of undead here that had been in the background of his thoughts would spawn a vivid recollection of the same manner. 

“So when you thought on the slander of the bounty hunter, a similar memory, one that invoked the same emotions perhaps, was what the computer picked out to play.” The scientist mused, feeling his heart leap in fear when he contemplated how he felt during his own confrontation with zombified Cipher.

Well, Stan wasn’t exactly sure he’d call that slander but it didn’t matter all that much to him. So long as it helped Ford think them a way out of here. “Yeah, guess-so.” He mumbled with a weak shrug.

The conman sluggishly followed along his brother’s steadily flowing river of thought, going back to the particular memory the most recent UCD had chosen. He knew that chapter of his and Ford’s life was over, that ship had already sailed off into the sunset. So why pick that one? There had to be something deeper there, something unresolved within it. That was the way his flashback with Rico and Jorge had worked, he still believed the bullying words they said to him, and he understood it with nauseating self reflection. With that painful reminder of his hidden, humiliating self worth mixed into a dangerous cocktail of a traumatic memory rattled psyche, maybe it was no wonder he set off the alarms and had gotten them trapped. But if that was true then it meant Ford must’ve also had lingering hurt from what he saw in his head. It wasn’t hard for him to see why.

Ford swallowed hard, recalling that he had aimed to remain calm in the second UCD, only to come out on the other side with the ringing blast of his shotgun and Cipher’s shrieking laughter in his ears. He scooted in closer to Stan as his nerves fired agitatedly and his voice tried to hide since it couldn’t run away from the confines of his throat. As any good scientist would, he compared Stan’s account to his own time reliving his past, allowing the ignominy lurking predatorily in his soul to fully surface. He squeaked, “Ah, so that’s similar enough to what happened to me then. I had the undead on my mind and… I couldn’t do anything but see myself, my selfishness, b-be exposed by Bill once again. I’m so sorry I had to show you that and remind you of my old, wretched self.”

Stan squeezed his brother’s hand tighter, the warmth of his kin’s skin acting like a thin windbreaker being the thing just barely keeping him protected from a nasty thunderstorm. Even as his own suffering mind ached from the wound of former and present emotions, bleeding the same blood of guilt yesterday and today, he cooed, “It’s okay Sixer, I ain’t worth all your worryin’ anyway. Y’know you’re a different guy now anywho.”

Ford’s lip quivered, watching the delicate flower of acceptance Stan offered him shrivel in the weed choked garden of his mind. “I-I don’t… know. Am I really? I’ve done so much and hurt so many. I keep paining you, they’re still adding up.” Icy, nonexistent wind bit at his fingertips, frosting them as they twitched for a shotgun that only held a home in the days of old.

Stan’s brows raised sorrowfully, laced with concern. He whispered, “That’s not true, you’ve helped me out plenty today for starters,” contemplating back on the way his brother had chased him down and mentally pulled him back into the current day only an hour ago. “I mean, at least you didn’t get us stuck in here.”

“I’d argue that was a team effort.” Ford muttered miserably, pulling his knees to his chest.

The conman subtly shook his head in quiet disagreement. His intellect still on his encounter with the first UCD of the day, he remembered something that his twin had started to say, only to be interrupted, and wondered what it was he would’ve spoken. Having too much of some synonym of tiredness to carefully consider his next words, he pinched his eyebrows in thought and asked, “Ford, what was it you were gonna ask me after I had my flashback?”

The scientist took in a shaky breath and stared at the far wall as he responded, “I was going to ask you if you thought what those men said about you was correct.”

“Oh.” Was all he said, a dense apprehension chilling his bones. Maybe he should’ve thought that through more.

“Well?” Ford pressed, his eyes anxiously flickering to Stan. He prayed his hesitation wasn’t a bad sign.

Stan hunched his shoulders and bowed his head, appearing considerably aged as a defeated look came to his face. Ford was asking about that secret shame that had accompanied him for who knew how long now, most of his life if he had to guess. Maybe he could fake a stroke, or jump up and punch the scanner into letting them out, or do anything but admit to his twin the truth. Unfortunately there was no backing out of this because he had walked right into the line of fire, and since his head was swimming too much to think up a good lie, he caved knowing he’d have to say something. In the most insecure corners of his brain, he could imagine his brother’s callous response, scoffing at him for being just so pathetic. But no, he trusted Ford now and knew he had his best interest at heart. They had faced great trials together and come out as better men for it, learning more about each other in the process.

A little bead of courage manifested itself behind his sternum at the reassuring thoughts, giving him just the push he needed to admit, “I mean, yeah Sixer, I do. I can’t do nothin’ right. It’s like they said, like pa said, like everybody says, even what that damn bounty hunter said, I’m a liar an’ a cheat. I jus’ screw everythin’ up, and you pay the price for it. I’m a burden.” There, the hideous cat was out of the bag now, probably to go wreck something between him and Stanford.

“Oomph.” The surprised sound escaped Stan’s lips as he was completely embraced by his twin. 

“Stanley,” Ford began, his voice thick with emotion, “I don’t think that. Not anymore. You’ve been such a blessing in my life that I don’t know what I would do without you.” He blinked into Stan’s coat, a tear spilling onto his cheek. “You are my brother, the one who will drop anything he’s doing to save me, the one who pulled me from the Multiverse, the one who is traveling whole universes for me now. I don’t tell you this nearly enough Stanley, but I love you. I do, I really do.” 

“Ford, I-” Stan started, only to pause when the depth of his brother’s words really hit him. They felt great to his old, cynical ears but tragically Ford wasn’t seeing the whole picture. He had to let him know, show him who everyone told him he was. Because honestly he didn’t care what Ford thought of him anymore, this day had emotionally ground him into a mush and he was too exhausted to give a damn about himself. He stared at the floor and said deflatedly, “Thank you, but you don’t get it. I never got pa his millions, I spent a decade without a home doing some terrible things, and I sent you and Mabel through a portal to Hell jus’ to name a few. I’ve been runnin’ from myself my whole life, just ruining whatever I touch.”

I’ve gotten so used to running I’m afraid I no longer know how to stop. Ford’s own words uttered to Mabel the night he decided to return to the Multiverse echoed in his skull. Here he was, still racing to some never arriving finish line, or perhaps away from an invisible phantom, and finding Stan doing the same. These things Stan were saying about himself, they weren’t fair, nor were they true. It made his heart ache for his brother and he mourned for his twin’s pained years of living in a lie in that moment, wondering just how long he had kept that weight with him.

Ford pressed on urgently, as if the fate of their lives depended on it, “Stop running, Stanley. Forget what pa said, what anybody has said,” he scrunched his eyes closed, briefly pausing to ride out the bitter guilt that rose in his throat, “what I said… We’ve all been wrong about you and it took me far too long to see that. You have nothing to prove, not to me, not to anybody. You’re my family and that makes you enough. Remember how much our great-niece and nephew care for you. H-how much I care for you.” He furrowed his brows and continued with much conviction, “And if I haven’t allowed you to see that then I’m sorry. But I want you to know your self worth should hardly be measured by your worst mistakes.”

Stan was stunned speechless. His head was reeling since he couldn’t remember the last time someone had said something so kind to him. Quite frankly, he wasn’t exactly sure how to take it. As he wrapped his arms around his brother he felt hot and cold all at the same time, both flying and falling at once and wait, was he crying? Wiping his eyes affirmed to him that yes, he was in fact leaking salt water from his eyes. Oh what the hell, he didn’t care.

You’re my family and that makes you enough.

He couldn’t get those words out of his head, they replayed over and over again, drowning out his fear and insecurity like they were but a drop in an ocean of love. They reached the dustiest, most neglected corners of his mind, opening the curtains to sunlight and scrubbing them with care. Because his brother was right, he was well beloved by a precious little family of people. Maybe because of that, he really could forget about the rotten words of those who hadn’t loved him properly. Maybe that did make him enough. He remembered the good times with Ford, enjoying a nice evening around a Gravity Falls campfire, as well as the tender moment they shared discovering the gift bags Mabel had stowed away in their backpacks, and the many drawn out conversations about nothing in particular while they traveled between universes. Ford thought he was clever, he trusted him, he loved him. He didn’t think he was a burden. 

So neither would he.

“Y-you really mean it?” Stan croaked, finding his voice again.

“One thousand percent. More than anything in the world.” Ford affirmed to him as seriously as a gunshot. “I hope you know that.”

Stan knew that he had moved on from the hurt he felt and carried with him from his twin. The curtains being closed on him was no longer a shining pillar of betrayal in his life, nor was their fight in the portal room something he thought about every single day, and their squabbles in the Multiverse were short lived and the pain forgotten. But it was only now that he was realizing the way he had felt about himself during and after those events and in the months to years beyond hadn’t changed. It had remained all along, surviving off of insecurity and shame. Now he knew and he wasn’t going to live with it any longer, leaving it in the past where it belonged. 

With a watery smile, the conman blushed, “Geez, thanks Ford. That uh, means a lot.”

“You didn’t believe it until just now, did you?” Ford asked sorrowfully, resting his head against his brother’s shoulder. 

“No,” Stan responded truthfully, his voice soft. A stubborn cobweb of self-doubt remained, clinging to the hardest to reach corner of himself. His jaw tensed and he faltered, “But Sixer, what if I mess it all up again? What if-”

“Stanley,” The old scientist cooed, his voice echoing softly around the circular room and immediately shutting Stan up, “then I will forgive you. It’s really as simple as that. …Do you believe me?”

The old conman hesitated, biting his lip as nerve wracking words stayed stuck to his tongue.

“Stan?” Ford said a little more firmly, “Do you believe me?”

“But what if I mess up even more? A-an’ made you mad, like real mad?” He winced, his message coming free from his mouth.

Ford sighed a tiny bit, one that was empathetic in nature. “Then that only proves you’re my family.” His eyes gazed off into the distance, recollecting a time that had been as painful as it had been healing. “You’re well aware I infuriated Mabel, became the sole provoker of her fury when I left her in Dimension 52. But she forgave me, and we parted ways on good terms. So it’s only fair I’d forgive your hypothetical transgression, probably not immediately, but I would.” After a beat of silence, he added, “Do you believe me?”

“Yeah. Yeah Sixer, I do.” Stan believed it truly, through and through, and it showed in his now free of pain tone. 

Just like that, the shame flew off him like a flock of birds escaping an oncoming owl, never to return. Because it didn’t matter if he had made one or one million mistakes in his life, Ford still cared about him anyway. Sixer didn’t see the bad in him like he had, he saw him for all his good and it was probably about time he did too. The impromptu therapy session with his twin had been a smashing success, so much so he didn’t even register it until now. It left room for self love he didn’t even know he had available and he allowed the solace he took in his twin’s physical touch to fill in the space. How interesting that in the span of fifteen minutes, Ford had hugged him twice now, once out of pure terror and now this time with nothing but tenderness. Talk about a turn around.

“I’m glad to hear it. More than words could ever describe.” The sweater-wearing man smiled.

The old conman gave the UCD scanner in the corner the stink eye and asked it, “There is that good enough for ya, you stupid machine? We figured out I had unresolved trauma or whatnot, so can we get this show on the road?”

Ford silently chuckled at his brother’s frustration, reflecting back on the words of comfort he had offered his twin. He mentally reaffirmed the truth he gave to every utterance when he opened his mouth to speak, only to swiftly shut it as he felt like he was thrown in a pool of ice water. It was only then the scientist realized the hypocrisy of his own words and his head shot off Stan’s shoulder in alarm. Your self worth should hardly be measured by your worst mistakes. Was what he had said, comprehending that if he said he thought that way about himself he would be a dirty liar. Well, this had just gotten a whole lot more complicated. 

“What is it?” Stan questioned evenly, sensing his brother’s tone shift.

Ford’s hands slipped into his coat sleeves and looked away with a troubled expression, ending his embrace and tipping Stan off that something was not right with his twin.

Well, it was plain to see he was stuck in here with no way out until the two of them sorted their heads, which included him, he registered as disquiet boiled acidically up his esophagus. His mind raced for another way out, perhaps he really would use his Quantum Destabilizer, if he curved the statistics enough it became probable he could afford to spare just one shot. Could he lie? No scratch that, there was no feasible way he could lie to Stan of all people, especially not on the spot. The heart pounding, toe clenching, anxiety that saturated him suddenly brought him back to the way he had felt sitting on a nameless curb on a windswept street in Dimension 52, knowing full well he owed a heartbroken fifteen year old an apology of her lifetime. In her sorrowful vexation, she had simply wanted him to trust her, just like he had wished for Stan to trust him. But his brother did trust him now and he knew he wouldn’t mock or berate him when it came to what really mattered.

Recalling this provided Ford with just enough resolution to unbind his tongue and confess, “Stan I-” he hesitated, “I- isn’t it obvious? I’ve just hurt so many people. You out of everyone must surely know that the most. I have so much to atone for I could write out a list a kilometer long. I didn’t even realize that until two months ago. Two months, Stanley. Out of how many decades I’ve been around? What does that say about me as a person, the one who kept a grudge against you for thirty years, the one who trusted no one and kept everybody away because a silver tongued devil told me so, the one who left children behind to run back to the Multiverse because he was uncomfortable in Gravity Falls? How can one person forgive all that? It’s impossible.” His voice started out strained and meek but ended hysterically and booming.

“Woah hey Ford,” Stan said firmly, grabbing him by the shoulders and keeping him grounded so he wouldn’t blast off like a rocket, “take it easy on yourself, wouldja? Listen, I-I didn’t know you weren’t comfortable back home. I coulda helped ya.”

“It’s fine, I’m pretty sure it’s because I still fear Cipher anyhow.” Ford said dejectedly, feeling like an unobserved Schrodinger’s Cat for acceptance or rejection. He had just laid out many of his sins in the open air for Stan to scrutinize and now all there was left to do was wait.

Stan looked him right in the eye and said solemnly, “No Ford, it’s not fine. What’s even less fine is that way you’re talkin’ about yourself. You can’t be forgiving me when you clearly haven’t forgiven yourself. It’s hypocritical.”

“Huh?” Ford questioned, his eyes snapping to Stan’s.

“Forgive yourself, Stanford. I already have, now it’s your turn.” Stan pressed as clearly as he could.

The scientist stared owlishly at his twin, his neurons firing rapidly at this new prospect. Forgive himself? He hadn’t even considered that a possibility until now. But as he sat there, his joints aching and his head throbbing, exhausted by three decades worth of trauma crammed into one day, he considered the possibility of his brother’s words. Stan just said he had forgiven him, as in, he had moved on from the suffering he had caused and didn’t hold it against him anymore. 

“You can’t go on a long speech about how ya love me if you don’t love yourself too.” Stan added quietly, his eyes soft. “It’s not fair to you. It’s not fair to any of us.”

There was a fair bit of logic to what his brother was saying, he understood, and he quite liked things that were logical. If he didn’t see his family member for his mistakes, then why should he? He had thought he had been holding himself accountable for his numerous shortcomings, which would have been the correct thing to do, but now he saw it in its true light and found nothing but shame. There it was, his age old enemy, that feeling. What had started out as an anxiety for being different and a desire to prove himself to the world had been twisted and darkened at the hand of Cipher, turned into an ugly sense of ego with a buried foundation of shame, fueled by his disgruntlement for Stan. But after his falling out with the demon, his guilt sank deeper and farther, only gaining mass every day. It wasn’t until Mabel eventually managed to point this out to him that he saw it for what it was. Mistakenly, he thought he had dug it out from his mind by changing his ways and vowing to be a better man to his family, only to see it had stayed behind by the roots and found a new hiding place to grow. Now it was telling him he was irredeemable, destined to stay shackled to his guilt for the rest of his days.

He believed he had been hard at work to weed out Cipher and all his influences from his life and to a degree that was true, but he had only pulled up the thorny leaves, leaving the wide spread roots to choke out everything under the topsoil in his psyche. Because uprooting the Bill nurtured thistles from his head didn’t just mean changing his ways, now he saw it also meant changing the way he saw himself. Healing his own broken view of his identity, which he could largely trace back to the demon king, was crucial here. Now was the time to finally love himself as Stan had said and be gentle with his character. He felt his shame shrivel up and dry out now that it was no longer being continuously watered, with a warm gratitude flowing in his veins for his new enlightenment in a humble sort of way, allowing him to accept himself in his entirety.

Stanford Pines forgave himself.

“Okay Stan, okay. I forgive myself.” He nodded sharply, looking his brother straight in the eye as a cautiously hopeful smile appeared on his face.

To Stan, it was brighter than sunshine. “Good,” he chirped, patting him firmly on the shoulder before pulling him into a hug. “I was gonna hafta smack the stupid outta you if you didn’t.”

“And I’m not just saying that.” Stanford grinned, his arms wrapping around his brother’s. “I mean it, sincerely.”

Stan chuckled softly, “I’m proud of ya, Ford.”

“Thank you.” Ford whispered, his eyes glistening with relief from a chronic pain that was no more.

Suddenly with this new clarity of mind he was aching for home, for Gravity Falls. He wanted to see the niblings, Pacifica, Wendy, and Soos, tell them he was proud of them and celebrate this newfound sense of self he had by spending some quality time with them. It was only then that he made another massive discovery, the blackened shroud that was taken from his eyes allowing him to see. The lingering anxiety, his poor sleep, the desire to return to among the stars, it was because he was running and didn’t know how to stop. Not towards some finish line end goal of seeing Cipher’s demise like he had believed, but because he was being chased by a predator of fear. It was that fright of becoming closer to Stan, driven by his shame, that told him he needed to put Bill in the grave. Because believing that worrying over the demon king still being out there to get him was the reason he needed to return to the Multiverse was easier for his subconscious to digest than facing the truth that he felt as though he didn’t deserve forgiveness and thus didn’t belong with his family.  

A deep seated remorse shook his bones, one that wasn’t accompanied by guilt this time and instead was couched in kindness for himself. He was sorrowful for not coming to such a conclusion earlier, for he would’ve been able to more effectively let his walls down with his twin, making their ongoing reconciliation abundantly more elementary. But that was behind him now, considering he saw the truth, and he didn’t allow himself to do as he had in the weeks past and replaced the tempting self deprecation with self patience and kindness. This wasn’t to say he thought of such a character flaw in a positive light, he sensed it was foul and wished to tell Stan as such; he deserved to know.

After taking in a deep breath, Ford finished the embrace with his brother to see him clearly, relaying to him, “Stanley, I have something to tell you. I know why we’re here now, in the Multiverse, the real reason. I believed it to be because I was so anxious about Bill, and to a degree I suppose that’s true. But really, I feared growing closer to my family, to you Stan, because I thought you wouldn’t forgive me. I held a lot of shame over the many, many mistakes I’ve made in my life. I-I think I was trying to spare myself from humiliation, keep myself from being hurt.” He cleared his throat, offered Stan an apologetic smile, and continued, “I would like to formally apologize to you Stan, I’m sorry I tried to distract myself from my feelings by embarking on another mission. I should’ve focused on you, on the kids and the family. I should have dismantled the portal. I should have moved on.” 

Stan’s face was hard to read as the gears could be seen spinning his head, his brows pinched in thought. When he did speak it was carefully, as if he was greatly considering each word. “Ford, you don’t owe me an apology but if it makes you feel better, then I’ll accept it. I had my own hang-ups about us even when I wanted to be your bro again. I s’pose shame is just a real big fan of ours.” He chuckled half-heartedly and looked away self consciously, but then his expression hardened and he told his twin, looking him right in the eye. “I know what you’re tryin’ to say about the portal and all that crap but seriously Sixer, we said we set out to kick Bill’s ass and I intend to follow that through to the end. Your mind was in the right place to not tear it down ‘cuz let’s be honest, psychotic demons don’t have any place bein’ alive around my family, but your heart just wasn’t.” 

The scientist’s vision went to the floor as he reflected on this and he found that there was no more sinister voice whispering self deprecating falsities in the back of his mind, only an embracing of his brother’s words. “That’s a good way to put it.” He complimented his twin. “Thank you, Stanley.”

“Yep, I’m just full o’ wisdom.” Stan smirked, socking Ford lightly on the shoulder. Man he was tired.

“Believe it or not it’s not a package deal with old age.” The sweater wearing man said cheekily.

“Heh, I coulda told you that.” He chuckled.

The scientist paused, his eyes wandering to the scanner on the ceiling, “...I think-”

“That’s dangerous.” The conman snorted.

“Hush, Stanley,” Ford said as he tried to hide his smile, “Anyways, I think I’m ready to face the UCD again after a rest. I don’t know if I have it in me to do anything but sit here at the moment.”

With a frown, Stan couldn’t help but agree with his brother’s sentiment, albeit reluctantly. Honestly he couldn’t think of anything else the computer would be looking for now that he was feeling so much better about himself. Plus after a much needed nap he was sure he’d be feeling right as rain. “Me too.” He sighed, leaning his head against his twin’s shoulder and shutting his eyes. 

Ford let his cranium come to a rest atop his brother’s and yawned, “I’m glad we’re in agreement.” 

“...Love ya, Sixer.” Stan mumbled after several seconds of comfortable silence.

As the gentle embrace of sleep cradled Ford’s body, he whispered, “Love you too, Lee.”

Stan wasn’t sure how much later it was when his eyes fluttered open, only to see the same dully decorated, circular room with nothing but a small screen and scanner. A rather tranquil feeling accompanied him, telling him that he had received a replenishing rest that rejuvenated his mind and body. Surely his conversation with Ford must’ve added to the calm within him, it was nice seeing himself in a better light. He almost stretched out when he remembered Ford was snuggled up next to him, mostly because his arm was asleep where it was pressed against his twin’s side. The scientist was snoring softly, his head laying atop his own. So the conman simply sat in silence for several minutes, mentally preparing himself for another faceoff with the UCD that would soon come. In the dead air of the room, a vague noise was picked up by his hearing aids and he strained to hear it. The vibrations were coming from beyond the right door, the private lab or Oracle Miquiztli they had been attempting to get to. They were low and gutteral, like something or someone was making vocalizations far off in the distance. 

Ford stirred, lifting his head off of Stan’s and yawning the sleepiness from his system. Now with his brother awake, Stan was free to move about his stiff limbs and shake the pins and needles from his sleeping arm. 

“G’morning.” Stan grunted, reaching for his canteen to snag some water.

“Yes, same to you.” Ford replied on his feet, stretching out his back.

“How ya feelin’? ‘Cuz I think I just got the best sleep of my life.” The younger of the twins inquired as he stood too, his body grateful to have the opportunity to loosen their joints. 

“I concur Stanley, I’m well rested and ready to face what the rest of our day may entail.” Ford said while he grabbed his canteen off his backpack. The nap had done wonders for him, as had his quite frankly life changing discussion with Stan. He was refreshed from these experiences and full of new energy.

He asked, gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder, “Sixer, I heard somethin’ past the doors there. You hear it?” 

The sweater wearing man paused, his eyes narrowing slightly in focus, before nodding and stating, “Yes, but I can’t tell what it is. It’s much too faint.” 

“Well I guess we’ll find out sooner or later.” The conman shrugged, eyeing the computer in the corner. “So are we gonna do this thing or what?”

Ford took a long drink from his own canteen and when he had finished, he confirmed with his hands clasped behind his back, “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, are you?”

“I guess I am,” he agreed as a simmering nervousness appeared in his chest, “let’s do it.”

“Just try to remain calm, we’ve survived three of these already. Rationally speaking, one more shouldn’t be all that bad.” Ford informed, doing a stellar job at keeping his voice even.

The scientist reached up and flipped the switch to turn the UCD back on and exhaled sharply once the deed had been done. He came back to his brother’s side, an unspoken agreement between them that they would do the same as last time and let the computer scan both of them simultaneously since it was only fair. A teeth rattling vibrating started up in the room around them as the scanner’s innards came back to life. The hinged limb of the computer jerked before smoothly raising its head like it had been startled awake from a deep sleep. A humming steadily increased in volume as the camera scanned the room and settled on the two humans, the lens staring them closely in the face. Involuntarily, the two brothers found themselves reaching for the other’s hand at precisely the same time, and clasped them together as the device clicked. They squeezed their eyes shut at the flash of the camera, knowing they would wake up in the past together.

But this simply didn’t happen and the scanner retracted itself as the room quieted down and the pounding of their hearts stopped in confusion. The men raised their eyelids to hear no alarm and no flashing red lights but instead, the far grey door was slowly sliding open.

“We… did it. We did it!” Stan exclaimed, patting himself down and finding everything still in place.

Relievedly, Ford ran a hand through his hair and beamed, “Well that’s fantastic. What a lovely surprise.” 

“Take that you dumb machine. You’re no match for the cheesy power of brotherly love.” Stan laughed, shooting finger guns at the scanner.

The sweater wearing man leaned around Stan with a grin to peer past the slowly opening door to see anything he could of the next room and quizzed with curiosity, “Shall we go meet our zombified oracle friend?” But his smile froze on his face at what he saw.

“Yeah, and get myself some sweet gauntlets.” Stan added, turning around to look through the door. His jaw dropped in horror.

The circular room was one hundred paces in each direction and if either of them looked long enough, it could’ve been understandable that this place had once been a laboratory. But the steel instruments and machinery inside had long been smashed to unrecognizable heaps and the ceramic tables splintered. The metal walls and tiled floor held massive indentations, covered in spiderwebbing inky tendrils. But that wasn’t what had gotten their attention in the first place, no that had to go to the fifty foot long bulbous monster that had just barely spotted them. Or more precisely, the terror that had overgrown Oracle Miquiztli’s body and had turned into something else entirely. The gaping maw of the thing was still clearly etched across the man’s collarbones, his jinglebells extending from its upper lip and diving back down through the abomination’s hard palate. His body was swallowed up by the parasitic growth while his head was half embedded into the zombie’s obsidian flesh, etched in an expression of terror as his arms dangled freely, the heavyset Gauntlets of Perseverance still attached to his paws. It raised up like a snake twenty feet off the ground, its tentacle-like limbs thrashing as an angry centipede’s would as its fatty black backside wriggled. At its rear, two massive tendrils, thicker than either human could reach around, extended and branched off, covering the floor and walls with a dangerous array of tripping hazards.

With no discernible eyes, the creature shrieked at them and snapped its jaws full of teeth the size of steak knives in the air, its fatty tissue rumbling down the length of itself as it moved.

“That is one big Blob Monster.” Stan shuddered, donning his knuckle dusters. He knew the crossbow would do nothing here and was pretty sure his brass knuckles were also very useless in this fight but they were better than nothing.

“With so much food and no competition, it’s no wonder it grew so large.” Ford gulped, his eyes to the heaps of dark pottery sherds from Blessed Vessels strewn around the room and several smashed open specimen storing refrigerators. Now he understood why no other creatures had made a home atop these walls. 

“And of freakin’ course the gauntlets just so happened to be right at its mouth.” Stan complained exasperatedly. 

“Two stories in the air where neither of us can reach them.” Ford deadpanned. He was starting to regret ever saying he felt he was ready to face the rest of today, wondering if he had somehow managed to jinx himself despite not believing in the phenomenon in the first place.

“What’re the odds you just send it to Hell with your demon bazooka?” The conman asked genuinely.

“I’m considering it.” Ford said simply.

It wasn’t until the door of the UCD began to close again that the brothers were finally forced through to the other side, locked in with an abomination against nature that saw them as its next meal. It crashed down on them like a tsunami, its weight shaking the earth as the two of them dove for safety, missing them by only feet. But one of the thing’s numberless tendrils latched ahold of Ford around his ankles and it was only due to his quick thinking that he snatched the dagger he kept in his boot and sliced clean through the limb. Bright orange blood wept from the stump, the head of the monster thrashing from side to side in pain with a high pitched growl as Stan dragged his twin away to safety by the collar of his trench coat. 

“That thing just almost tossed you into the air like it was nothin’.” Stan cried worriedly, remembering that if this thing even so much as nipped at one of them and broke their skin, it would be game over by deadly curse.

“Yes, almost.” Was Ford’s reply, checking his outfit for any signs of tooth ripped clothing.

They watched as the parasite retreated and lifted its head high into the air, scanning the room as if it were looking for something. Needless to say, the Staff of Light was alert towards the current threat in the room and vibrating violently enough to get the scientist’s attention, something he had never witnessed before. Ford was helped to his feet and he pocketed his knife to grasp his staff, only to discover an emotion was being relayed from it to him with its frequency of movement; It was concerned for the gauntlets.

“We’ll get them to safety, don’t worry.” Ford reassured his staff and hoped it understood.

“Who’re ya talking to?” Stan asked, eyeing the metal mitts they needed as the monstrosity took a bite out of one of the fridges in the far corner, metal squealing as it was torn loose from itself along with something moldy inside. How he was supposed to take the iron gloves from the cancerous thing, he didn’t know.

“The staff is speaking to me through some sort of telepathic connection. It’s worried about the gauntlets." The scientist relayed, holding the weapon out in front of him as their enemy slithered up to them once more with all the subtlety of a speeding freight train. 

“Well that makes two of us then.” He responded with uneasiness as a massive shadow was cast over them, casting glances at the staff to know when to dive away.

As soon as the demonic curse swallowed, it regrew its severed limb with unnatural speed and accuracy and towered over them once more. The staff flared with white, signalling to the twins to roll out of the way again. They listened, this time dodging substantially more effectively than the last. The Blob Centipede thrust forwards with its jaws wide and Ford charged, whacking the thing atop the head and splitting its onyx skin open to reveal lumpy, putrid purple tissue like he had never seen before. Still undeterred, it snapped at the scientist and he shielded himself by raising the Staff of Light in front of him and let the monster chew on it as if it were a rabid dog. Sensing his chance, Stan darted under his twin and to the gauntlets that hung only inches from the ground and began to pull at them, praying they would come loose. But Oracle Miquiztli’s stiff hands largely refused to budge, Stan only slipping one off a mere inch before his feet left the ground.

Wind rushed in his ears and his heart skipped a beat as the parasitic curse rose into the air, taking him and his brother with it. He held onto the holy man’s long undead arm for dear life as Ford was hung from his staff clamped in between the abomination’s jaws. It shook its fat head to fling the two of them from itself and watch them fall to their demise but they held stronger, even if Stan was dangerously dizzy by the end. When this didn’t work, the creature simply opened its mouth with a satisfied snarl and with nowhere else to go, Ford fell. 

That was until he latched onto one of Stan’s ankles, the abruptly added weight nearly losing him his grip around the bear man’s muscular arm. Stan watched as he tightly gripped a fistful of fabric from his trousers and used it to climb higher up him. 

“Sweet Moses Sixer, I’m happy to save your life but are you trying to pull my pants down?” Stan cried, too concerned in the current moment for the ongoing danger they were in to be relieved just yet.

“It would hardly be the worst thing that’s happened to you today.” Ford gritted out, using Stan’s belt like a handhold on a rock climbing wall to pull himself up and get an arm around his shoulders.

“I can’t even argue with that, how stupid is that?” Stan hollered back over the irritated cry of the demonic curse.

In some twisted way, it was humorous to Stan that here he was, literally touching the gauntlets they needed to get out of here and leave this nightmare fueling creature alone but he was unable to actually take the artifacts on account of, well, he was hanging from them two stories off the ground. The parasite shook again, leaving the twins rattled but still clinging like a couple of bugs on a windshield on the highway. 

“Hang on to me, we’re going for a bumpy ride.” Ford announced as he drew his dagger once more.

Stan had a sinking feeling as to what his brother was talking about and it was confirmed a second later when in its pain, the abomination rose up higher and crashed its head into the ceiling, shattering a rainfall’s worth of glass to the ground while rusted steel beams groaned and cracked. With Ford’s knife embedded into the underbelly of the beast, Stan let go of the gauntlet and clung to his brother as he yelled out a single, unending cry of terror as they traveled downwards. Skin and flesh was split as the beast was unzipped down its middle, a showering of tangerine colored blood coming with them and soaking Ford. When their feet did finally hit the floor after the longest three seconds of anyone’s life, it was much rougher than either or them had been anticipating and they both failed to get their legs to catch them and landed instead on their sides. Stan didn’t even think as he leapt to his feet, he snatched the knife and grabbed Ford around the middle and ran with him away from the danger. 

But the monster didn’t come after them, instead it snapped at the heaps of roof vines that were crashing down from its run-in with the ceiling and slurping them down ravenously, stitching up what would’ve otherwise been a nasty fleshwound in seconds.

“How’re we supposed ‘ta ever kill this thing if it just keeps eating all its problems away? And why does that never work for me?” The conman complained to his brother. He got one good look at Ford and immediately felt sorry for him. Being closer to the slicing flesh meant he had been pretty thoroughly covered in its blood, so much so that it was dribbling from his hair.

Ford ignored his brother’s joke to fetch his staff and when he returned he told him, “We must exhaust its food supply,” as he held an arm dripping with orange out to his side with a disgusted expression. Seeing no better way to clean himself off at the moment, he unscrewed and dumped his entire canteen out onto his head, washing out a fair bit of the alien blood.

Before he could respond, Stan abruptly scrambled back out of range of the now healed creature’s swinging arms as it descended on them, forcing them apart. He looked around at the various remaining food items strewn about the room, many half buried under crushed equipment and the monster’s own growths, and yelled back, “It’s gonna exhaust us first at this rate, Sixer.”

Ford huffed and wrestled to take his staff out of the grasp of the curse with one hand while he repeatedly shot into its mouth with the other and shouted, “Not if we put up a good, smart fight.”

The beast coughed up a stormcloud of smoke, its throat burning from the heat of the blasts as it used its immense weight to knock Ford several paces away, where he landed roughly on his side and skidded across the floor until he hit a heap of collapsed metal that knocked the wind from his lungs. Stan winced, that looked like it had hurt. But he had no time to go to his brother’s aid because now the abomination had eaten the plastic packaged, processed food item that was previously at Ford’s feet and was coming for him, its mouth swiftly healed.

The conman backed away with the knife raised and stumbled over one of the demonic curse’s many repeatedly branching, parasitic growths, allowing the monster exactly the opportunity it needed to gain on him. But instead of coming straight for him, it skittered right past him on hundreds of legs and then circled him as he regained his footing. For appearing so cumbersome and unbalanced, it was deceivingly swift and nimble.

“Trapping me in, huh?” He growled at the thing as it started to tighten its coil and close in on him. “Well I don’t think so.” Stan barked as he leapt over his enemy’s limbs and stabbed Ford’s dagger into its fatty side like an icepick to a frozen waterfall. 

The abomination screeched and dove its head down to crush him between its teeth, only for Stan to roll out of the way and make it embed its fangs into its own skin. Stan used the ninety degree angle the beast had provided with its body by biting itself to push upwards with his feet and sink the dagger into its backside. Then it was as simple as getting the bottom half of his body over the monster and sliding down its thick leathery skin. His feet hit the greyed tile a little harder than he would’ve liked and he stumbled a little before taking off at a sprint towards Ford, his knees aching.

“Ford, Ford! Are you alright?” Stan called, dashing to his brother’s side.

The scientist was a little unsteady on his feet, tenderly touching his bruised ribs before wincing and regretting his action. “Probably,” he said painedly, “I retract my previous statement. We need to figure out another way to end this fight, and quickly.” 

Uneasily staring at the Blob Centipede gobbling up dozens of spoiled petri dishes that spilled from an overturned refrigerator, Stan cried, “Awright so take the shot, vaporize that thing before it even knows what hit it.”

“Stanley for the last time, I’m not using my Quantum Destabilizer unless it’s life or death.” Ford barked, irritation showing in his voice.

“Okay, fine.” Stan sighed. “You win.”

Well if Ford wasn’t going to budge on using the best weapon they had then he wasn’t going to force him to. He had made up his stubborn mind so Stan was going to have to find a new solution to their problem. It seemed like the location they were at was working like an open arena, there was nowhere to really run and nowhere to hide. That would always surely work out in the bigger opponent’s favor, which unfortunately wasn’t them in this situation. What they needed was a place they could rest, or some other secret weapon they could use, Stan thought as he studied their surroundings. He noticed a thick bundle of black wires jutting out of the wall from the far end of the room, down a hallway and around a corner. From the look of things it appeared as though these wires spread out all throughout the rest of the research center and was the source of its power. The hall was large enough for the Blob Centipede to follow them down but then again, if that freak was like the rest of its kind then it would hate electricity anyways. He decided that was good enough for him to go investigate. 

“Sixer, d’you see all those wires over there?” The conman asked, pointing towards the hall. 

Ford paused in his brief study session of the Blob Centipede where he was observing it eat away another wound to follow Stan’s hand and see an out of the way offshoot from the room they were in, one he hadn’t spotted until now. A smile of recognition appeared on his face as he spied the wires since he had an idea of where Stan was going with this and he said, “Yes, I do.”

Stan persisted, “Well they gotta be fed by somethin’ right? And these guys don’t like electricity, right? So I’m gonna figure out where they go. Maybe we can use ‘em.”

“Be quick then. I’ll keep it distracted.” Ford replied determinedly, stepping around him and readying a blinding flash of light for the charging monster by holding the staff firmly up and down, close to his body.

“Got it.” The younger of the twins barked and took off racing, seeing a flare of white reflect off the walls in front of him only a few seconds later, followed by some monstrous wailing. 

Knowing that every second he spent apart from Ford increased the danger he was in from single handedly fighting off a fifty foot long snake-ish parasite with teeth and an appetite for human flesh, Stan ran like an olympic sprinter around the corner. At the end of the plain concrete hall it was just as he thought, there was the rusty backup generator running trustily behind two massive power transformers that fed all the wires, hugging either wall as formidable arcs of sky blue electricity buzzed in between exposed spots on their time worn exteriors. Getting too close would easily stop his heart before burning him to a lump of carbon. A door just to his left opened without issue, mostly because the knob fell off as he twisted it. Going down a short and narrow hallway, he opened another door to pop out on the other side of the transformers, right next to the generator. This was the perfect setup for a trap to kill the Blob Centipede, he realized as giddy excitement bubbled in his chest, and all he had to do was lure the thing back here and zap it. Doing so would require him to turn off the power though, since he would need to get the crime against nature in between the transformers in the first place for this to work. But he would only have one shot at timing this perfectly, these monsters were smart and he wasn’t going to count on it being dumb enough to let him try again if something went wrong.

Turning off the generator was easy work and he was able to dart directly through the age-damaged transformers with only his hair standing on end, starting to heave for breath. Cursing his old smoke filled lungs, Stan wheezed down the dark hall and out into the evening sunlit room where he saw his brother struggling to keep his footing on top of the monstrosity, embedding his staff down on the bloated thing’s head as it bucked and screeched so loud it shook the air. Sensing its prey was unbalanced atop it, the curse swiftly whipped its head backwards and forwards, throwing him from it and sending him and his weapon through the air.

“Oh no.” Stan muttered, running to catch his twin.

Instead he broke Ford’s fall with his own body, knocking his glasses from his head in the process and earning him several brand new bruises on his legs and backside as his skin met the bumpy floor. But the conman couldn’t complain too much, surely his pain was nothing compared to what would’ve been Ford’s had he not cushioned his drop. 

With his brother wincing onto his hands and knees on top of him, Stan sucked in a breath of air through clenched teeth and gritted out, “Sixer, there’s a generator back there behind some transformers. If we time turnin’ it on right I betcha this’ll be like catching a fly in a bug zapper. We just uh, gotta make sure we don’t get zapped. Or end up trapped up against a concrete wall and a hungry monster. That too.”

As Ford hefted him to his feet and handed him his glasses, he announced, “Sounds great. So we run like hell and hope our trap doesn’t spell the end for us too.”

“Heh yeah, what could possibly go wrong?” Stan laughed nervously while the overgrown abomination turned its attention back to them and he took a cautious step backwards.

“Run?” Ford questioned as it barreled towards them, its teeth glistening with thick mucus.

“Run!” Stan yelled, swiveling on his heel and rapidly picking up his feet.

He galloped into the dim, unlit hall and turned the corner with his brother, not even having to look back to know they were being followed while his footsteps echoed off the walls. The way the ground beneath them rumbled under the weight of such a massive creature was telling enough even without the irritated screeching coming from behind. A viscous pile of sticky yellow spit flew between them and landed straight ahead of them, causing them to hit the brakes and briefly split apart to dart around it.

When they came back together again, the conman huffed, “Y’know, I can’t believe you stabbed it in the head and it didn’t die. No actually scratch that, I can believe it and I hate that even more.” 

Ford informed him in between pants, “I don’t think it has a brain. It’s nothing but adipose tissue.”

“Huh?” The conman puzzled, going too fast to stop himself from slamming into the generator. He banged his elbow against it uncomfortably, sending a zing of shock shooting away from the site of the hit in both directions.

“Fat Stanley, it’s too fat!” Ford cried, practically diving for the rope start on the generator. 

After a few healthy tugs, the machinery sputtered to life and bathed the corridor in harsh light while the parasitic curse barreled just behind them. The metal transformers hummed with power once more right as the enemy crossed in between them, the first of their electrons traveling to hit skin instead of metal. The monstrosity screamed and bit at the air, significantly slowed as lightning instantly burned through its skin and seared flesh, popping and sizzling fat. The ends of its limbs smoked and smoldered and it picked them off the ground and raised its head while it continued forwards in an effort to avoid the pain, only causing the energy beams to travel further down its elongated body. With a furious grimace, the abomination stared down the twins as it strained through the stiffness of its own musculature to try and bite at them, knowing on some level they were responsible for this.

“It’s not stopping!” Stan exclaimed, reaching for the door that led to the side hall while he tried not to think about how their plan had failed so miserably.

“So neither are we.” Ford cried out, running through the door with his brother just as demonic jaws closed around empty air behind them.

When the beast realized it couldn’t reach them by trying to bash its half cooked body through the small opening, it lashed out in fury, slamming itself into the transformers and wrapping its jaws around the generator. His mind racing for a way out, Stan watched as his brother started to fire shots from his blaster near the monster’s mouth with plentiful confusion before he realized exactly what he was doing. The arms of Oracle Miquiztli had been horribly burned to the bone and his brother was trying to finish the amputation job and free the gauntlets from the creature. An ear bleeding squeal from the tearing of metal hit their senses and the corridor was bathed in darkness once more as all power to the building died along with the generator. The only thing allowing them to see now were the ghostly blue laser shots from Ford’s blaster, casting the monster in eerie light. 

“Can we use the quantum whats-its-name yet?” Stan screamed exasperatedly. 

CLANG… CLANG…

The Gauntlets of Perseverance hit the concrete floor with two deep, clear ringing chimes, the noises reaching their ears above the racket of everything else while Oracle Miquiztli’s twice killed arms burned with orange flames at the wrists, shedding hauntingly frightening shadows on the beast. 

“Finally! We need to grab them.” Ford cheered, making a break for the artifacts. 

Well Stan supposed that answered his question. With the abomination seemingly distracted by mutilating the generator at the moment, he darted for the metal mitts and whooped triumphantly, “Haha! Come to papa!” 

But the overgrown parasite wasn’t quite done with them yet and it whipped one of its hundreds of branching limbs at the twins. Ford dropped to his knees and flexed his back to avoid the thick whips. Stan wasn’t as flexible to say the least and he was hit straight in the gut, the kinetic energy from the blow knocking him off his feet and landing him against the wall. Then he fell straight to the ground, his eyes watering from the force of the blows as he picked himself off the gritty floor with shaking limbs and a new pain behind his left ear. With one final scream, the fatty centipede turned around and began to drag its beaten body to eat its injuries away, determined to finish them off once it had recovered. 

Tugging the charred hands from within the gauntlets was child’s play to the scientist and his staff shook with joy once the artifacts were held in his hands. They were as cold against his skin as they were heavy and turning on his flashlight revealed that they appeared just the same as they had in the videos, knuckle spikes and runes circling the wrists and all. They felt dead to the world in his grasp, no more intelligent than any other inanimate object. But an observation about the silent steel gloves he had overlooked until only now sent a zap of icy anxiety traveling from the soles of his feet to the top of his head; they only had five fingers. Stan would have to wear them and he would have to pray the gauntlets accepted him. 

“Stan! Stan, put these on.” The sweater wearing man cried as his twin limped up to him.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He grinned, slipping the armor over his hands. 

The gloves felt stiff in his hands, like they were encased in ice and refused to budge when he tried to extend his fingers. Several questions came to mind all at once. Were they as powerful as the paladins had claimed? He had never done any sort of magic before, except for the time he fought Bill in Pacifica’s dreams and he hadn’t been a fan of that. So would the magic be a fan of him? Would they even attune to him at all? Well as the Blob Centipede finally realized they had foolishly come out of their hiding place, it turned around and rushed for them again so Stan figured he would soon find out.

“You can do this, Stanley. No rush. Take your time.” Ford reassured him, not quite managing to keep his voice steady as he equipped his Quantum Destabilizer. Stan shot him a look, one that was both scared and amused and with a hint of judgement, something he knew his twin would’ve been a lot more self conscious about before today. 

Yeah, he could do this, Stan thought as he stared at the abomination speeding right for them. He had battled his own inner demons today and triumphed over them so how hard could facing down a real monster, twice as long as a bus and three times as heavy, possibly be? He lightly bumped the gauntlets together, hoping that would do something.

 “C’mon you, uh, gauntlets? Work for me, will ya? Me and Ford didn’t go through the hell of our own brains and come out on top just so we could get eaten by an obese caterpillar.” He tried telling the pieces of enchanted metal, wondering if they could even understand him at all. 

Ford aimed. The monster roared.

The Gauntlets of Perseverance glowed a soft orange at the runes upon hearing his words and their joints loosened around his knuckles, giving a surprisingly smooth and lightweight feel to them. They creaked slightly and it was like he abruptly understood an alien tongue with what the mitts relayed to him in their hushed metallic groan. They understood him now and they gave their service to him. With the parasitic curse opening its mouth wide in a yell of vexation, it made one final lunge at the twins. With a battlecry of his own, Stan clenched both his fists and delivered a double uppercut straight into the fiend’s jaw, cracking bone and sending a tissue shredding shockwave down the beast’s body. It bounced off the ceiling, splitting skin all the way down the top from head to rear as it broke from the sheer impact of the punch like a sword to a sack of flour. With a pained pant, the creature tried to back away but Stan gripped it by the teeth and punched it in the mouth again, a fatal blow. Whatever he had hit made a stomach churning crunching noise and caved the jaws in, crumpling the abomination to the dusty concrete where it would never rise from again.

Stan’s face lit up like a Christmas tree and he laughed triumphantly as he admired his new war painted set of magical weapons, “Hoo boy! These are even better than anyone said. I mean, didja see what I just did, Sixer? Talk about a rush, I could punch stuff all day with these things!”

Ford set his hands on his hips as he admired his brother’s handiwork, watching portions of the dead parasite smolder. “Yes, it was quite impressive. I’m relieved we’re relatively unharmed and Oracle Miquiztli has finally been put to rest.” He empathized with the fellow scientist and liked to think he would’ve been glad that they were adopting his signature weapons to take down the boss of the woman that had sowed disaster to him and his dimension.

“Ha! You bet it was impressive. Hey, why don’t I demolish a path outta here for us?” Stan beamed, clenching and unclenching his fists as he felt the artifacts satisfyingly move with him. 

“Be my guest.” Ford smiled, gesturing towards the solid concrete wall and taking pleasure in seeing his loved one so excited. 

The conman flashed a grin as he wound up and struck straight through the wall, crumbling a gap large enough for them to climb through as a cloud of dust was thrown into the air. On the other side was the unexplored back half of the building, being nothing more than a boring assortment of decaying offices and molding meeting rooms. After smashing through a few more walls with ease, they found themselves outside in the heart of the dead city with the deep grey overcast sky of the late evening beginning to softly drip down a light drizzle of rain while the air was thick with the smell of precipitation. An immense relief settled among them as they easily watched the sky, content on simply taking solace in the safety they had earned.

As the first drops of water hit Stan’s arms and head, the Gauntlets of Perseverance groaned a little again. They were thanking him for rescuing them.

 “Woah, th-they’re talkin’ to me again. What the hell?” Stan questioned. 

“Yes, isn’t it strange how they do that?” Ford commented, taking out his notebook and crossing off the Gauntlets of Perseverance from his list of items required to get through the Blind Caverns. 

With their lucky find of the Blessed Vessels yesterday, he stared at the page and realized everything had now been collected. He checked it over two then three times and still found no error. They had a map to navigate the maze of corridors, the Staff of Light to ward off the mind cracking eyes, the Gauntlets of Perseverance to fight the persistent grasping hands, and enough Blessed Vessels to make their rations last the journey. This was it, they were now prepared to face the very entity that had made them go on this journey in the first place and conquer it to reach Bill Cipher at last. Two ambivalent emotions filled his head and froze his breath in his throat, fright and hope. The former for knowing the grave danger that was in their immediate future and the latter since this meant so very little was keeping them from returning home.

“You good, Poindexter? What’s so interesting about that page?” The conman quizzed, nudging him softly in the ribs.

“Stanley, we’re ready. We’re off to the Blind Caverns.” The scientist gasped, the realization weighing him down with chains of dread just as much as it grew him wings of cheer. 

“Damn, so this is really it, huh?” Stan grunted as the realization sank in heavily, his mood immediately becoming more somber. “No more horsing around in other dimensions, it’s just the caves and then the Nightmare Realm.”

“And then home.” Ford reassured him with a cautiously hopeful smile, giving him a squeeze on the shoulder.

“Wow I- geez. The niblings, I haven’t seen ‘em in ages.” Stan said wistfully, still struggling to completely wrap his head around the fact that this was really happening. 

It gave him mixed feelings. He was almost done with the Multiverse, practically finished with his adventures with Ford. Really it was a bittersweet thing for him since it was the obvious choice that he wanted Cipher dead and to be back in Gravity Falls with his family, but the other half of him was honestly mourning and already missing this type of life. It wasn’t the constant danger or the nights spent sleeping out in the open while he was bit by alien bugs that he would miss, nor was it looking over his shoulder for bounty hunters or having nothing to eat but rations with the texture of sawdust. It was the time he spent with Ford doing fun stuff, searching for rare artifacts or exploring a new culture together. The friends he had made, the memories he was still gaining, they were about to become a thing locked away in the past and he didn’t want that. 

The conman peered around at his rain drizzled surroundings and sighed, “I guess all good things gotta come to an end eventually.”  

“Whatever do you mean by that?” Ford inquired, putting his journal away to not further wet the pages. He was rather glad to be leaving this dimension behind if he did say so himself.

“This was fun Sixer, the explorin’ and the discovery with you. I don’t want that to all be gone once we’re home.” Stan admitted, not realizing just how much he believed his words until he said them.

“Hm, yes I suppose it was fun.” The scientist hummed, his eyes to the clouds. He continued warmly, “But this is hardly the end, Stan. I’m sure wherever the path takes us we’ll still have years of adventure ahead of us.” Ford meant what he said. He didn’t know what the future entailed for him and Stan since quite frankly he hadn’t wanted to think too much about it until now. There really was no rush, all that mattered now was that he looked forward to the unknowns with his brother rather than dreading them. He had faith in their future. Mostly. 

The sweater-wearing man stuffed his thumbs into his pockets and frowned, “That is, if we don’t go mad or aren’t brutally and grotesquely murdered before we can make it back to Gravity Falls.”

His brother’s words brought a whole lot of comfort and distress to Stan simultaneously. The weight of leaving these other worlds was lifted once he heard it didn’t mean the end of his exciting times with Ford, but along with that also entailed that they had literal demons to face soon. “Yeesh.” He shuddered.

Stan knew his twin had a point. There was the looming threat of the Blind Caverns and Bill Cipher themselves that hung around them, much closer and thicker than the overhead stormclouds. This too brought up ambivalent emotions with him, with a portion of himself looking forward to finally bringing a proper fight to the caves and that bastard demon while the other side of him feared their retaliation. He couldn’t do anything but wonder, had their efforts been enough? Would they prevail? He didn’t want to think too hard about that. All he could do was bring his fight and hope for the best. 

Ford began to search for a portal on his Multipurpose Portaling Device and went on with a lighthearted tone, “But I’m determined to keep that from happening. I’m sure all things considered, we’ll be fine since we have each other,” smiling at his twin as he pressed several buttons.

Ford’s optimistic expression was like a beam of pure, angelic light right to Stan’s soul and he was reassured by the point that was made. Hope filled his lungs, light and bright like the midday sun. “Right, that stupid cave has got nothing on us now. Look at us, we’re unstoppable.” He grinned, hugging Ford around the shoulders with one arm. “But you should uh, call our dinosaur friend and see if she can come. We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

Ford stopped searching for portals on his MPD and agreed, “Oh absolutely. I’ll give her a call.” He was hopeful about their chances with Cipher, not arrogant. 

After pressing a button near the flashlight of the device, a menu showing only one contact appeared on the screen and he pushed the button again. The line was silent until the machine gave a small beep, indicating the call had gone through.

“Katee, this is Ford and Stan. Are you busy?” Ford inquired of the dino.

“Well now I’m not, what’s up?” She chirped, the background noise quieting down as if she was leaving a loud room.

“Stan and I got the gauntlets, we’re ready to face the Blind Caverns. We were hoping you could accompany us.” He said simply.

The line was silent for several seconds as the paladin gaped in shock and Ford nearly began to repeat himself, fearing she hadn’t heard, when she spoke again in an excited tone, “You really mean it? You’ve done it, you got everything? That’s fantastic! …But I should ask Jess if I can come with.”

“Don’t sweat it if you can’t make it, kid. It’s just an invitation.” Stan shrugged, speaking up so his voice would carry through the receiver.

They heard Katee’s laughter filter through the speaker. “Okay… Give me like two seconds, I’ll call you back.” She trilled with much energy and then hung up.

“The suspense is killin’ me.” Stan deadpanned after exactly two seconds of silence.

In light of the bittersweet mood, Ford found himself laughing at his brother’s comment. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but something about the way it was said and the timing of it all just tickled him. Stan smirked at his twin and chuckled back at him, pleased that his choice of words had amused his companion. 

With his portaling device beeping once more, Stanford answered the call and stated, “Well that was quick.” 

“How’d you do that so fast? Was the oracle in the room with ya?” Stan asked the watch-like device on Ford’s wrist.

“Nope, just magic.” Katee said fuzzily with a grin. They heard her clawed feet slapping off some sort of stony ground, surely pacing around in an exhilarated circle. “Oh man, oh man, I can’t believe this is really happening. But get this, Jess said yes! I’m on my way to Dimension 180 as we speak.”

“Brilliant! We’ll meet you there at your old campsite. Will that work?” Ford questioned her.

“That’s fantastic. You’ll have to tell me all about the gauntlets when you get there, ‘kay? So I’ll see you soon, stay safe.” The dino agreed and ended the call once more, returning the device to its default screen.

“She’s more excited than we are.” Stan laughed with an undertone of anxiety. He couldn’t help but be apprehensive of the caverns and Cipher. Any sane person would be.

“I’m sure she’ll change her tune once she actually meets up with us.” The scientist informed, messing with his device.

After a few more moments of silence, Ford gave up looking for any portals within a week’s traveling distance with a sigh. He strode back and forth in front of Stan while he thought before abruptly stopping as his eyes lit up with an idea. He remarked, “You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if we could get one of the old portals at the hub working if we could just find its location.”

“I’ll put good money on that. Those things are solid enough to last until the end of time.” Stan agreed, cracking his gauntlet clad knuckles and beginning to walk off towards the nearest skyscraper in search of a higher view to find the offline Portal Hub.

Ford followed, resting his right hand on the butt of his blaster as he scrutinized his surroundings for any signs of zombies.

“Awright Sixer, so there’s no way we’re smashing into the Nightmare Realm without a plan.” Stan grunted after he crumpled in a set of locked doors and stepped over their remains and into a dust caked hotel lobby. Oh man, he really loved these gauntlets.

“My thoughts exactly. Do you have one that you’d like to share?” The scientist inquired genuinely as he tiptoed over the warped metal, happy to put his head to work to brainstorm the most effective ways to decimate his old enemy. If he was to be working with two others in the Nightmare Realm instead of alone this time, it would be wise to communicate and plan out the attack in advance.

Stan shrugged nervously, “Well… I’ve been thinkin’ and it’s more of a backup plan that I got, but I wanna run it by you to see if you think it’d even work. Plan B for if it hits the fan and that kind o’ thing,” as he toyed with the magic infused bracelets around his wrists and felt his heart begin to beat faster in his chest.

“Let me hear it then.” Ford instructed as he raised a brow upon perceiving his brother’s unease.

Stan obliged.

Alien crickets chirped as unearthly night fowl sang and hooted, keeping an otherworldly forest alive even in the dead of night. Round about a weathered lean-to and the smoldering embers of a warm fire, two humans slept in the company of a humanoid Dilophosaurus under the broad-leaved canopy of Dimension 180. The night was clear and the weather fair, making for the perfect temperature to rest outdoors. But Stanford Pines didn’t simply sleep, he dreamed.

Ford opened his eyes to find himself standing on the polished deck of a sailboat drifting silently through a sea of stars, circling along the edge of a massive spiral galaxy with a black hole in the middle. Glowing stars meandered lazily in the distance among a blue and purple backdrop of gasses reacting with one another to dazzle the sky above and the ocean below with brilliant color. The bleached white sail rippled gently in nonexistent wind as he lightly leaned back against the spotless wooden railing and simply took in the sights. 

Being as aware as he was, the scientist immediately knew he must’ve been in his own mindscape and not dreaming ordinarily. It looked dramatically different the last time he was here and that was only a few short months ago, he mused gently. It was interesting how much things could change in his head over so little time. Gazing into the cozily lit, empty cabin of the ship from a nearby circular window, he comprehended with reluctant acceptance that his situation could only mean he had a particular visitor. 

“Come out before I toss myself from this ship and wake myself up, Cipher.” He growled, crossing his arms and hardening his gaze.

The Demon King himself abruptly materialized in front of him with a bolt of lightning as the wind picked up around them and the ship sped up to ten knots, as if it were an animal swimming away from a predator in fright. Immediately he attempted to jab the man with his cane but it was slapped away angrily. 

So he floated nonchalantly above Sixer instead and grinned, “Heya, congratulations Fordsy! You’ve finished up your cutesy scavenger hunt then huh?”

“I know you’ve been spying on us, watching Stan and I on our journey. After so many weeks of radio silence, why visit me now?” The trench coated man asked coldly, his eyes glacial.

“I thought I'd hand out the party invites to you a little early since ya know, I may not be home if you actually manage to come knocking on my door.” He smirked, waiting for his words to sink into the mortal’s brain. Throwing Sixer off his A-game was going to work out nicely in his favor and he knew just what buttons to press.

But Ford wasn’t impressed. “I seem to recall an incredibly similar conversation to this one that we’ve had before. Yet here you are, still trapped in the Nightmare Realm. Your prison is about to become your tomb!” He refused to take his bait, to allow himself to worry. That’s what Bill wanted, for him to doubt.

Cipher laughed and kicked his legs and the scientist rolled his eyes. “Hahahaha! You can’t even get to me, IQ! What happened? You’ve gone soft on me, that’s what. You’ve finally figured out what kind of an insecure freak you are after spending a little time with that stupid brotherly waste. But hey, I tried to tell you that bootleg version of you would only drag you down but you don’t listen anymore.”

“You leave Stanley out of this!” Ford barked, materializing his Quantum Destabilizer into his hands and raising it at the demon.

Bill came to lean over the business end of the gun and batted his eyelashes. “Oh no, did I strike a nerve? Y’know last time we talked like this you would’ve agreed with me.” He mocked being hurt with a pouty frown in his eye and went on, “But you don’t need me anymore, do you?”

The scientist backed away towards the stern, his weapon still trained on the demon. His face hardened if possible, even more and he exasperatedly shot, “You make no sense! You’re the one who called me out on my behavior in the first place.”

Well, you and Mabel. He thought, grateful Cipher could no longer read them.

“...And I never needed you.” He added a little softer, his tone still biting.

The demon lazily waved his hand and dismissed his old puppet’s confusion. “Ha! Sense is overrated. But y’know, it’s not too late for you to leave your bargain bin twin, since that’s what you always do.”

“What makes you think your words mean anything to me? You’re bound to meet your demise in a matter of days, Cipher. Nothing in the whole Multiverse is going to change that.” Ford spat, not allowing wounds of the past to break open. He wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. Especially not the night before their trek through the Blind Caverns, he needed only the best of things to be on his mind.

Ah, so Sixer was holding on strong. That was okay, with the thorn of self-consciousness placed in his shoe, every step in the caverns would be hellish. The Demon King let his arms dangle at his lower side and chortled, “You can sure try! But you haven’t gotten me yet, Sixer. But go on, you can keep chasing after me if you want to. You’ll never catch me!”

“I will and nobody will have to worry about you ever again. No me, not Stan, not the kids.” He paused his intense eye contact with the demon, his face briefly falling to fear before his stony expression resumed. With much more of a growl, he hissed quietly, “You better not have been terrorizing the children in Gravity Falls. Have you?”

Cipher giggled because Fordsy had just been so useful and actually reminded him of something he needed to do. “Tee hee, I’ll never tell.”

“Then you’re useless to me.” With a scowl, Ford fired and Bill Cipher blinked out of his mindscape before the blue bolt could hit him, leaving it to travel off into the depths of space like an icy comet catapulted around a star. “We’ll end this tomorrow.” He hissed at the empty space where his past muse had just been.

Chapter Text

Well, here she was, exactly where she had been in the vision she had received twice now. So that must’ve been important, only Mabel didn’t know why. The control room of the poorly lit and brisk basement surrounded her, the portal staring her down through the window like it was judging the worth of her soul. Was this what she was supposed to be doing? She wasn’t sure. Some part of her hoped that by being here, maybe she could get some answers. Because now one of her dreams had come true, well two if she counted what she was doing right now. So many bad things had happened and she was slipping, she hadn’t kept anybody out of harm’s way like she had promised Grunkle Ford. She was letting Jheselbraum down, her family was falling apart, as was she. Pacifica was at her wit’s end and Dipper was stressing trying to keep her happy. Neither of them had gone to school today because of it, deciding to take the winter break early for the sake of their mental health.

But there was another reason for her being in the dim and damp basement; she missed her grunkles. They had been gone for a while now and she had been really feeling their absence with the festivities of the season. Heck, tonight was the sixth day of Hanukkah and tomorrow was Christmas Eve, with the final day of the holiday of her heritage landing on Christmas Day itself. Mabel knew she should’ve been celebrating, bouncing off the walls with the holiday spirit, but she just felt empty and hollow like a frail, china teacup. While the world happily went on around her, she felt lonelier than ever. Her hand hovered over the button atop the desk in the control room, all she had to do was press it and it would turn the portal on instantly, sending her Grunkles home within seconds. With McGucket having removed the timer and the need for a warmup first, it was rather tempting… 

“Mabel!” Dipper’s echo cried from behind her. “What are you doing?”

Mabel snapped out of her stupor and found her hand hovering just millimeters from the red button. Rapidly she withdrew her arm and hugged it to her chest, like it had a mind of its own and she needed to control it. She felt a blush come to her cheeks as she spun around to face her brother; she hadn’t wanted him to find her like this. 

“Mabel, are you feeling alright?” Dipper continued, walking right up to her.

“Oh yeah, I just miss them, y’know?” She frowned guiltily and prayed he couldn’t see how wet her eyes were in the dimness, upset that she hadn’t heard the elevator descending. Truth be told, being down in the cold basement near to the portal and the path to her grunkles had brought her at least a sliver of comfort.

A strong sense of déjà vu overcame the boy. How many times had he had this very conversation with Stan in this very room about Mabel? Now the opposite was true and a small part of him was struggling to believe it. But the large majority of him did and that portion empathized with her and said, “Yeah, I do too. Is that why you’re brooding down here all alone?”

The young woman glanced back at the portal with a longing frown, eyeing the Dimensional Vortex Neutralizer at the base that was responsible for bringing her and Grunkle Ford home and not opening a path to the Nightmare Realm instead. “I-I guess so. Yeah, I dunno, I thought maybe being down here would make me closer to them.” She replied glumly. As much as she hated telling him a half-truth, spilling everything just wasn’t an option.

“Y’know, I’ve been worried about you.” Dipper spit out, holding back a wince and hoping he was saying just the right things that would get her to tell him what was getting to her. He and Pacifica had talked about it yesterday and together they decided that it would be best for him to get her in a quiet space alone so she could feel like she could talk. Their reasoning was that surely Mabel wouldn’t talk to Pacifica about it since she wouldn’t want to worry her already stressed roommate, but Dipper didn’t have that problem. Now he had found her down here, accidentally making the perfect scenario for him to attack her with love and bring down her walls.

Mabel picked at a loose thread on her cloak and mumbled, “Oh really? Wh-what is it about me that’s worrying?”

Dipper had been hoping she wouldn’t say that but now there was no way around it. He tapped his foot against the concrete floor and truthfully informed her, “You’ve been much too insistent on being cheerful all the time, more than what’s normal even for you. It makes me think you’re hiding how you’re really feeling about something.” 

And Pacifica thinks so too. He thought, but didn’t tell her that.

His sister gently placed her hands on his shoulders and slowly said in a depressed tone, “Dipper, it’s Christmas and Hanukkah and my grunkles are gone fighting Bill. Who we know isn’t dead yet, by the way. Of course I’m gonna be kinda moody over that.” 

“Right, right.” He nodded, folding his arms. He continued much quieter, “Mabel, you know you can tell me anything right? I’m your brother, you can trust me.”

A javelin of heartache hit her chest as she pulled her arms back and she so desperately wanted to take him up on his offer. But between Pacifica being at the end of her rope and Christmas Eve literally being tomorrow, she decided there was no room for her to spill her every anxiety over the last several weeks to her brother. That just wouldn’t be fair to him, or to Ford, or to the oracle. When she vowed to protect her family, that meant their feelings too. Maybe, she mused, she could gently break the news to them after the holiday season, when they were all in a better head space and the Mystery Shack was repaired. That way she wouldn’t have to trauma dump to him when he was trying to take care of someone else already. But how would Dipper take the news of the prophecy and her visions? She found herself asking the same question yet again and an unease wiggled in her stomach when she feared he would be mad at her for hiding this knowledge for so long.

Weak. Her mind hissed at her and she didn’t have the energy to deny it.

She sighed softly and spun the top of the nearby swivel chair around and muttered, “I know, Dip. Thanks for being there for me… So what else about me is worrying?”

He stared at her against the backdrop of the idling portal, still grateful every day that she was here. While her answer had eased his mind some, the neurotic part of him was still insisting she wasn’t telling him everything. He believed it so he concluded the best course of action would be to continue the conversation and remarked, “Well, I was looking for you everywhere. I thought you had like- gone off on some trek back to the caves. I was about to go hiking up there when I remembered to check down here. Paz and I wanted to show you what we’ve been busy brewing.”

Mabel inspected his belt and pointed out, “Oh, sorry I scared you bro-bro. But I can see them right there, you got two clear ones and a whole new green one and it’s even greener than the Restoration Potion’s dealie.”

“That’s because supposedly it’ll make me as strong as a Redwood tree, or something like that, for a few minutes, and the clear ones are Levitation Potions.” He told her with a wistful smile. “That’s not really the point right now though, I want to make sure you’re okay. But you’re clearly not.”

Mabel kicked a stray screw with her hands in her pockets and wished to change the subject. “Oh, well yeah. H-has Pacifica decided what she wants to say to her dad yet?” She inquired of him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, upset at his girlfriend’s father. “Yeah, but she said she doesn’t want to drag us through any more mud just before Christmas anyways so she’s going to wait for our sakes.” He chuckled a little and added, “She also said we have her permission to pelt him with snowballs if he tries to come by.”

A melancholy smile came to Mabel’s eyes. Weakly, she joked, “Well then we better go set up some snow forts to be prepared.”

A hopeful grin appeared on the boy’s face. If he could get his twin out of this foreboding room with its moody atmosphere and chilling air and into the winter wonderland of their front yard, just maybe he could try and lift her and Pacifica’s spirits with a good old fashioned snowball fight. “I think I’d like that. Let’s go get Paz and Soos on board, whadda you think?”

The young woman glanced back at the portal, listening to its hum like it was the heartbeat of some massive beast. Playing in the freshly fallen snow did sound like fun and as far as she could tell, there wasn’t anything left to get out of being down here anymore. She had passed the moment that had occurred in her nightmare and nothing had happened. But that didn’t keep her from worrying, fearing the time she gambled away doing nothing. Every moment she wasted not solving the puzzles of these visions and the Prophecy Spell was a second closer to her next nightmare becoming a reality, whenever that may be. That’s why she had been here in the first place, trying to gain any clues she could to the nature of her dreams. Or maybe there was nothing to get out of them and her fate had already been sealed, destined to doom her family as her visions foretold.

Dipper saw the hesitation in her and he pressed, “C’mon Mabel, don’t you want to go do something fun outside before Christmas Eve? We’ll be cozying up all day tomorrow and the next anyway.”

Alright, she would leave but just to make Dipper happy. So she tore her eyes from the behemoth machine and said with bittersweetness in her voice, “Yeah, let’s go.”

“Boys versus girls, how does that sound?” Mabel chirped, walking down the snow frosted porch steps as she raised her unicorn cloak hood over her head with gloved hands.

“That’s fine by me. Just as long as Mabel gets to use her magic.” Pacifica responded from behind her polka-dotted scarf, the core of her soul glum but kept warm by the coals of anger for her father. 

She kept her fire fueled because the second the holidays ended, so help her she was going to have some choice words to give to him. But for right now she supposed she could try to focus on some fun, even if said fun involved being pelted in the face with frozen water crystals. Because truth be told, as delightful brewing with Dipper had been this afternoon, she was going insane just staying inside. It made her feel like she was waiting for something bad to happen and she refused to take this battle sitting down, hence why she was outside furiously making a pile of snowballs. 

Dipper and Soos understood the assignment and got a head start on rolling up a gigantic sphere of snow to use as cover, but not before the younger of the men could state, “Mabel could defeat all of us by herself with magic. With Wendy gone doing her Christmas apocalypse training, there’s no way to even this out. So I say we wage this war with nothing but our arms and our skills.”

“Ha! Wendy would just be on our side.” Pacifica laughed with a flip of her hair.

“Well I for one would be honored to die at the hand of magical snowballs in our fight for the front yard.” Soos stated with a smile. He felt for the poor kids and their tribulations with monsters and demons and was happy to help them have some joy that afternoon. Besides, he had been working tirelessly to sort out the heating and electric issues in the house and decided a little break couldn’t hurt.

“Soos, you’re not helping my case here.” Dipper cried as he and Soos finished up with the first major portion of wall for their snowball fort and began rolling up another massive and immovable sphere of frozen water. 

Mabel snatched her handbell from her pocket and announced, “Looks like you’re outvoted bro-bro. Prepare to be defeated.”

She swiftly cast a Water Spell and materialized a full blown, four sided castle wall around herself and Pacifica, some eight feet high with icy steps leading to the top where they could rain down chilly projectiles down on their adversaries. It had a cobblestone brick pattern, complete with static flags constructed from packed snow on the corners and a closed, latticed gate that mimicked the real life structure and all. As the brunette girl squatted down to catch her breath from the impressive feat of magic she had just accomplished, Pacifica was left gaping at the protective walls around her. Boy was she glad she grabbed Mabel to be on her team.

“Well Soos, it looks like we got a castle to storm.” Dipper stated with a dramatic flare as he palmed together a snowball.

“Chaaaaaaarge!” Soos shouted, picking up the gigantic ball of snow he had just constructed and running towards the wall at full speed with it over his head.

“Pacifica, we’re under siege! Return fire, return fire!” Mabel yelled, pointing at the rapidly approaching Soos through the gate. 

Mabel looked around at the undecorated interior of her fort and knew she really could’ve done more, she was capable of it, but she simply didn’t have it in her right now with the threat of danger always in the back of her mind. So instead she materialized about a dozen snowballs and went to war, her head in conflict over whether she should be preparing for the worst or taking a break to make a good memory with her family. Mabel knew it was late enough in the day that once this activity was over, it was pretty much time to retire for the night and that meant going to sleep and gambling another vision. And after that, spending Christmas and the rest of Hanukkah without her Grunkles. She didn’t want to deal with that yet.

Soos hurled the massive ball of frozen water straight at the sturdy walls of the fortress, crumbling it into a blob of snow and making a sizable dent in the girls’ defenses. He would regret his decision a second later when he was pelted with a volley of much smaller projectiles and ran away with his face stinging from the wet and cold. But he was backed up when Dipper used his surprisingly good aim to get the girls to back off behind their walls and then stood guard, snowball overhead and ready to fire, just in case either of them wanted to hit back while Soos prepared more ammunition for them. What he wasn’t expecting however, was a magically propelled tsunami wave of snow to come barging around the corner and sweep him completely off his feet.

Then Soos was there to dig him out of the rubble, allowing the young women the time they needed to form more snowballs within their walls and carry them back up to the top. They hurled their icy spheres down on their underprepared victims, their victory cries only fueling the boys’ ambition to crumble their walls. They forged up another enormous sphere of crystalized water, half the size of Dipper, enduring heavy fire all the way. With revenge in their bones, the two of them ran with it up to the fortress once more and threw it at the gate, collapsing it.

“There’s a way in!” Dipper whooped, only to get an armful of loose snow raining down on his head from Pacifica above.

“Now’s our chance.” Soos bellowed, only to get his hat knocked off.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Mabel announced, ringing her handbell, a new criss-crossing gate growing from the unformed snow. 

“Ha! Nice one, Mabel.” Pacifica smiled, high fiving her. 

The sweater-wearing girl threw another snowball at Soos’s back as he ran off to prepare another attack with Dipper and chirped, “Thanks, girl.”

“Oh yeah? Well we’ll be back.” Dipper chuckled, shaking the frozen crystals from his hair and making a tactical retreat.

They stayed out until long after dark, none of them really wanting to go back inside to be left alone with their bleak thoughts. But eventually the cold bite of the night made it through their soaked clothes and they were forced to call it quits, retreating into the protective walls of the shack to warm themselves and head to bed. It was almost physically painful for them to walk into the house despite their numb fingers and toes, as if they were admitting defeat to the forces of bitterness and darkness they were fighting so hard against. 

A melancholy feeling permeated the air as they collectively retreated to their rooms to change out of their wet clothes and into their pajamas. It mixed in with the quiet duty to remain cheery and bright in the face of the holidays as they lit the Menorah, the two forces battling in the atmosphere of the home. Right now, the joy was the clear underdog, facing a barrage of missiles from the various trials they found themselves in the middle of. That was painfully clear when Dipper draped his body across the couch to sleep, his room still unheated and the lighting fried. Mabel stole a glance at the vending machine that had been the subject of much violence, replaced to keep the portal safe as she exited the family room. She couldn’t help but stare at the water damage from the Eye Stealer staining the lower walls around the shack as she traveled through the foyer. The girl met Pacifica on the steps and saw the tired pain in her eyes, knowing the school and job she loved were, for the time being, gone.

Never before had Mabel been so blue the night before Christmas Eve laying her head down on her pillow. Would tonight bring another vision? How would Pacifica and the rest of them cope with tomorrow with so much danger and heartbreak staring them in the face? She anticipated another Cipher led affliction to come, most likely on the morrow or the next day, to shatter their celebratory plans. To top it all off, she was unable to really do anything about it, her own weakness getting in the way of the answers she needed. Once she heard Pacifica snoring, she let her uneasy restlessness fuel her motivation and nearly silently repeated the Prophecy Spell over and over, getting nowhere until her fatigued bones dragged her to sleep against her mind’s will, well past midnight.

Mabel awoke to discover she was standing all alone in a dark, ice and snow gripped forest, the branches bare and black. Swirling stormclouds of deep green and grey rumbled with thunder as they heralded the soon arrival of some disastrous weather event, only allowing the nourishing sun to break through in the far off, unreachable horizon through dense swaths of twisting trees. The air was frigid and silent, with the only real signs of life being a handful of stubborn, pink tulips triumphing above the snow. But whether spring would break out into full bloom or winter would maintain its grip of death over this environment, she couldn’t tell.

This wasn’t like any of her other visions, she realized with cautious curiosity. For one thing, she wasn’t watching herself in the future but was peering around at her surroundings in the first person, from her own body. She took a small step forward, hearing the crisp crunching of snow under her bare feet, dressed only in her cat patterned purple pajamas. So where was she? It was an awfully tumultuous and lonely place and she wasn’t sure she wanted to be here, it reminded her far too much of her waking life. That’s when it hit her, as did a bolt of lightning straight in the chest.

The young woman was propelled backwards and skidded across the snow, feeling the cold and pain as she went. As she groaned and propped herself up onto her hands and knees she knew this was her mindscape, it had to be. That was made even more abundantly clear when her eyes locked with an old enemy’s and he grinned at her, running her blood colder than the bitter air. 

“Whew this place is a bit cold for you, dontcha’ think Shooting Star?” Bill cackled and blew away the smoke steaming from his lightning shooting fingertips. 

“Bill!” Mabel yelled hatefully as she materialized a rainbow bazooka that shot kittens and tried not to think about the implication of his words. “Don’t you have someone else’s life to ruin? Screw off before I defeat you with kittens again.” 

“Well hey now kid, don’t be hasty. I just wanna talk.” The demon said with a smile in his eye as he raised his arms disarmingly. 

“Oh yeah? About what? How you’re gonna lose again?” She growled, aiming the weapon at him.

Cipher floated up to her and flicked the gun out of her hands, sending it tumbling end over end across the snow. “I swear Shooting Star, sometimes you’re too much like old Fordsy,” he observed amusedly, watching as he turned the bazooka into a million scattering cockroaches. The triangle turned back to her as she backed away and droned on, “But for your information, no. I’m here for a completely different reason!”

Mabel’s face hardened and her jaw squared as she barked, “Well, you can’t win against me! Spy on us all you want because there’s nothing you can do to get past the unicorn barrier and the eye scanner. That portal is locked down.”

Bill seemed to find this exceptionally funny since he clutched under his middle as he laughed, long and loud enough to echo through the dead trees and haunt them.  

“What?” Mabel shot with a hint of unease, knowing that if he was this amused by her words then he must’ve had something up his sleeve. “What’s so funny? We keep stopping you, the Eye Stealer, the Rat King, they’re both gone.”

Bill abruptly stopped laughing and snapped his fingers, darkening the air around her with choking, black fog as lightning cracked and thunder roared across the sky. Mabel tried to get away as the demon hovered towards her but she found her limbs were tied down with thorny, weedy vines, pulling her to her knees and breaking the skin on her bare wrists. Crimson liquid began to trickle down her hands to her fingertips and dot the chilly snow as she struggled.

Cipher’s voice took up everything as he stared her in the face, filling up every last bit of her mind as it boomed through the land. “You think they meant anything to me? They were games, time wasters, the finger-food appetizers before the main course!” He cackled, taking delight in the panic he saw her struggling so pathetically against.

Feeling her heart drumming in her throat, Mabel shouted back, “Then I’ll kill whatever else you have coming next! You don’t think I’m strong enough to handle that after what you put me through?” She had to stay strong, she had to! Dipper and Pacifica were doomed without her. 

The Demon King’s surface darkened to that of a moonless night and his eye ran blood red as his words rang her eardrums and drilled straight through her skull. “I don’t think, I know.” 

He clenched his fist and the slithering thistles snaked up her body and curled themselves around her throat, choking her of all air. A strangled scream squeaked out of her throat before it was violently stamped out and terror flooded into her heart, remembering the last time she was bound and at the demon’s mercy. Her eyes darted all around at her mindscape, looking for a way out. But the fight within her was burnt-out and suffering, it saw how desolate the physical representation of her own head was right now and it feared Bill was right.

Cipher leaned in so his eye was only an inch from hers and she could see her own fearful reflection in it. He screeched, “You’re cracking, you’re on the verge of breaking under all the heat, even I can see that. Well, I’m adding a little more.”

He raised his hands with power and authority and at his command, her entire mindscape did a one-eighty and went up in flames, the cold of the forest evaporating under the life killing fever. The tulips instantly shriveled and died as meteorites of flaming brimstone fell from the turbulent storm in the sky, shattering the earth as they fell around her. Embers caught on her pajamas, lighting them ablaze and searing her skin as her stomach squirmed in fright. He was right, she was cracking, broken, nearly ready to collapse. How could she fight this? She had no answer and that frightened her even more than the Demon King. 

Then Cipher backed away, cackling as he watched her go up in flames as her smoke and thorn choked cries remained stuck in her throat. Her vision went dim, suffocated from his torture and her body went limp as her skin sweltered. It hit the scorched earth, her skull bouncing with a throb as her eyes rolled back in their sockets and she lost all consciousness. 

THUD.

Mabel fell out of bed with her limbs flailing, trapped in her sheets that had somehow managed to wrap themselves around her neck. A shrill beeping alarm in the attic briefly confused her while her heart still raced in her ribs as she scrambled to her feet. Her mind was wide awake and alert enough to notice two things as Bill’s laughter still rattled her brain, and the first was just how profusely she was sweating because man, was it hot up here. The second brought her blood pumping organ to a grinding halt; there was a thick billowing of tar colored smoke coming from under the door. 

Her stomach dropped all the way to her toes, as if in slow motion, as her face was drained of all color. She watched with wide eyes as the smoke crammed itself inside her bedroom for a second that stretched into a day, her head knowing what it was seeing but refusing to believe it, staying stuck in place like a skipping record. Sweat beaded on her forehead, soaked her eyebrows, and dripped down her cheeks as a muted crackling of burning wood made it to her ears. The bottoms of her feet were heated with the energy being dispersed through the floorboards by the disaster that must’ve surely been happening downstairs. But what really broke her from her stupor was Pacifica’s coughing.

“What… cough… the hell?” The blonde croaked out, waving at the fumes that stung her nose as she climbed out of bed.

“Paz! There’s a fire!” Mabel exclaimed, whipping her head around to the other girl as the roar of the flames on the other side of the wall just got noisier.

“Dipper! Soos!” Pacifica immediately shrieked, her eyes growing to the size of dinner plates. “They’re down there.”

“I know, we gotta get to them! I’ll check the door.” The brunette yelled back, shoving her boots over her bare feet. 

Luckily for Mabel, ever since returning home from the Multiverse she always kept a ratty bag full of basic necessities and a few changes of clothes at the foot of her bed for situations just like these. She hurriedly clasped her unicorn hair cloak around her shoulders and then stuffed her polaroid camera, scrapbook, and her favorite plush tiger into her bag. After grabbing her handbell and tightening the belt she kept her knife sheathed on over her waist, she raced for the door. In her stress chemical driven state, she at least had the state of mind to remember to check if the doorknob was hot by gripping it with her cloak protecting her skin. But that was when her rationality ended and in her agitated state, she yanked on the warm doorknob and blew it wide open.

“Mabel, wait-” The blonde tried calling out to her, pausing in her manic episode of stuffing anything she could into her luggage to do so, but it was too late.

The young woman briefly laid eyes on a dense plume of killing smoke, feeling the sheer magnitudes of heat come for her skin even if she couldn’t see the blazing inferno through the cloud. A fierce wind whooshed at her backside as the flames greedily sucked in oxygen to consume and she had only taken her first step out onto the charred floor when she realized that she had probably made a mistake. She was sure she had made a grave error when the air flow switched directions and she felt the rage of the fire explode as the smoke flew straight for her. The only thing she could do was wrap herself up in her cloak as the flames, fueled by the added oxygen given to them, created an eruption of a backdraft and rocketed themselves straight into the doorway. Mabel was knocked off her feet as her jingle bell rang, protecting her hair and skin from the gluttonous fire but not from her meeting with the floor.

You’re on the verge of breaking under all the heat… Well, I’m adding a little more. Cipher’s words hissed in her brain as flames spilled into the bedroom as capillaries under the brunette’s skin burst, forming bruises down her right side. Her world swam, staring up at the waspishly swirling smoke only feet above her. Her ears rang and her body felt sluggish and viscous as she refused to think about who must’ve started this fire in her home. She could. Not. Break. 

In a fight-or-flight fueled frenzy, she cast a Plant Spell and slapped her open palm to the hundred degree boards below, growing a thicket of pine tree saplings in the doorway and keeping the fire from bursting its way further into their bedroom for now.

“Mabel!” Pacifica screamed as she hugged her around the shoulders and hoisted her to her feet. Well, not quite to her feet since the two of them had to remain crouched to stay out of the smoke now. Holding back a coughing fit, the blonde stamped out a few flames that had sprouted on the hem of Mabel’s cloak with a pillow and pressed, “Are you alright? Oh please tell me you’re not hurt?”

Mabel had to admit she was feeling pretty dizzy at the moment but all things considered, that was minor compared to what damage could’ve come to her had it not been for her bell. “I’m fine, just a little banged up.” She grit out, clenching her jaw and squeezing her eyes shut to ride out her unsteadiness.

“Okay, okay.” Pacifica replied frantically, clearly trying to remain calm. 

A moment later, the Pines girl opened her eyes to see the blonde smashing the triangle window by throwing her frantically packed suitcase through it. It did the job well and shattered most of the glass, landing noisily on the frozen ground a second later. 

“We’re getting out of here one way or another.” The blonde said fiercely from on her knees as she tied the end of her comforter to the nearest leg of her bed, praying she hadn’t just destroyed the few precious belongings she had just thrown into her pink luggage.

By this point, the cries of the smoke detectors had died out, surely succumbing to the inferno temperatures of the ground floor. Mabel noticed this but brushed away any reflection on it whatsoever as she snatched her own sheets off the floor and knotted it together with her roommate's bedding, surely so her worries over Dipper and Soos in the back of her mind would stay at bay. Noxious fumes filled the air and infected her eyes and poisoned her lungs and on her hands and knees with Pacifica, she tied a third and final sheet to the makeshift rope to climb out the window. Coughing furiously now, the brunette chucked the length of bedding she had bunched up in her arms out the window, letting it fall to the porch below.

“You first Paz.” Mabel shouted, using her cloak as a crude filter between her nose and the gritty air.

The other girl didn’t protest, instead she gingerly raised herself over the lip of the broken window, taking great care to not cut herself on any stubbornly remaining shards. She gave one last pitiful glance back at her furniture, her bed and belongings, her eyes welling up with tears as she accepted this would likely be the last time she got to see any of them. And just after she had gotten it all back in order after the Eye Stealer attack too. But then she got straight to work worming her way down the escape route, for the longer she took the more time Mabel had to stay trapped in their bedroom. The very first of the sun’s rays were poking out from behind the horizon to signal Christmas Eve morning, not yet warming the brisk air of the greater woods. Not that it mattered to her at the moment, with the scorching heat and light from the fire, she may as well have been standing on the surface of the sun. At least she had remembered to pull some shoes on before leaving, she thought as her soles touched the sweltering porch that had been coated in embers. 

Once Mabel saw Pacifica’s feet hit the ground, she held onto the sheets and jumped straight out the window, descending the outer wall of the Mystery Shack like an expert cliff repeller, only taking her half the time it did the blonde. Her stinging eyes caught glimpses of the old pines that were now aflame at the tips of their branches, fearing the whole forest would burn to the ground just as her makeshift rope caught flames. The young woman’s boots gripped the charred wood and turned around to take off rushing, but her legs seemed to have other plans and instead they turned to the consistency of wet spaghetti and brought her to her hands and knees as she coughed violently. A stifling wave of energy whooshed from within the foyer, barreling out the front door and angering Mabel’s arms, turning them red and burning. She groaned in pain between coughing fits and tried to pull herself back to a standing position but her smoke choked lungs had weakened her. But then there were a pair of radiantly glowing arms around her, hefting her over a shining shoulder. It was Dipper.

“Dipper!” She exclaimed brighter than the fire. “Why are you… cough… all… cough… glowy?”

“I used the Radiant Potion to escape the fire. It can’t hurt me right now.” He exclaimed over the bellows and pops of the flames as he carried his sister to safety, his body illuminating a short distance around him. “Are you hurt?” He inquired, feeling awfully, well, awful himself. Mostly on the emotional side though, his home was burning down on Christmas Eve, suspiciously the morning after they had felt Bill Cipher spying on them…

“No… But you… cough… saved me… Thank you. I’m over the moon that you’re safe.” She croaked, feeling a bitterness aimed at herself for not being the one who had saved him. As she watched the orange flames spill out of half the house and pump out toxic smoke into the early dawn, she told herself it should’ve been the other way around, Dipper didn’t deserve this. Nobody did.

“Thanks, Soos got out alright too.” The young man said hoarsely as he set his sister down a safe distance from the fire, just at the edge of her massive snow fort from the night before.

“Oh Mabel dawg, you’re safe.” Soso blubbered in a bathrobe, pulling her into a bear hug the second Dipper let her go.

The cloak-wearing girl couldn’t help but return the gesture, even if she was shaking awfully hard and using every last bit of her willpower to keep from sobbing back into the man’s arms. “Oh Soos, you’re a sight for sore eyes!” She cheered, ending the embrace with him and gazing around to make sure everybody else was still safe. “Okay, we got Soos, Paz, Dipper,” behind the group Gompers bleated, “and Gompers. So that’s-” Mabel cut herself off, gasping as horror gripped her neck. “Waddles! Waddles is still in there!”

Before she could even take a step towards the shack, both Pacifica and Soos had tightly gripped each of her wrists and pulled her back, knowing full well she would race back into the burning house for her beloved pet pig.

“Hey, you focus on putting out the fire and I’ll get him.” Dipper told her with a brotherly smile, holding her firmly at her upper arms. 

“But he won’t listen to you.” Mabel begged, trying and failing to wrestle herself out of her companions’ grasp. She couldn’t let him put himself in any more danger.

“Put out the fire, Mabel. I got this.” The young man yelled over his shoulder as he raced back into the bowels of the fiery shack.

“Noooo! Dipper!” Mabel shouted as he disappeared into the ash and flame. 

“Mabel, hey, shhh. It’s alright. He’s okay.” Pacifica tried soothing her, her own voice rather shaky too. She hated seeing him run back into the belly of the beast as much as Mabel did but her logic prevailed, knowing the biting flames couldn’t hurt her loved one so long as the potion was in his system.

Mabel stared at the empty, blackened front doorframe and wiped her eyes, her fingers trembling as her old Multiversal ways of thinking further tightened their reigns over her emotions. Dipper was gone, he made his choice, now it was time for her to go to work and fix this mess. That was her job, to protect her family and save the world. Bestowed to her by the curse of a prophecy that she couldn’t let down. 

“Aucwcmw, gfjp ax cafb,” Mabel mumbled after ringing her handbell as she drew the three required symbols to hoist a heaping of snow into the air. The largest collection of the frozen water in the area just so happened to be the toppled walls of her fortification so she lifted it all over the roof of the shack, allowing it to melt and turn to a downpour that sizzled the smoky shingles and diminished the flames surrounding them. Then she raised a geyser of the fluffy, frozen water around the edges of the forest, snuffing out the fire consuming the trees before it could run away and get out of control. She focused on nothing but her task, knowing for certain that if she allowed even a drop of worry for the other problems in her life it would be the one that burst the dam of her head.

“H-hi, Sheriff Blubs? It’s Soos dood. I just wanted to let you know that our house is like, totally on fire bro! Come as quick as you can!” Soos cried desperately into his cell phone as Mabel threw a snowball that weighed as much as she did through the shattered kitchen window with the Axolotl’s magic.

Pacifica was feeling rather useless at the moment, surely she knew throwing snowballs at the shack was a vain effort, so she did what she could and patted Soos reassuringly on the back as tears stained his cheeks. It was all so terrible, just when she thought nothing could get any worse, this had to happen. There was nothing to do but watch everything she ever loved be reduced to ash. Well, everything except the people around her. They had all made it out unharmed and really that was what really mattered, she supposed. It brought her a decent amount of comfort. Because really, possessions were just things and they could be replaced. But people? They could not. Actually, that reminded her…

“Mabel!” The blonde exclaimed, “Do you think the portal is safe? The fire won’t get down there, will it?”

Mabel froze, going rigid in fear. After swallowing frightenedly, she eventually said, “...I- I don’t know. Dipper probably would,” and hardened her face as she cast another heaping of frozen water to the cabin. It appeared as though she was doing a very good job at extinguishing all these flames on her own, using the windows and her memorized layout of the shack to spill half frozen water in every room. She just prayed she hadn’t accidentally buried Dipper under a pile of snow in his burning house. That would be tragic and ironic.

Speaking of Dipper, where was he? Mabel strained through the steam and smoke to see him inside, wondering just how much time he had remaining on his potion effect. The very last thing she wanted to happen was to be responsible for losing two loved ones this morning. But before her anxieties could sweep her away into mania, a very frightened four hundred pound pig came bounding through the clearing smoke and out the front door, covered in ash but otherwise unharmed. A second later, a coughing Dipper sped through the doorway, using a blanket to cover his mouth and nose as the glow from the potion flickered out and died. They had made it just in time.

Waddles screeched and dove straight into the snow beside Mabel, rolling around in it as steam came off his body. She grinned down at him, relief plain to see on her face as she continued to extinguish the flames consuming her home by plowing a wave of cold white up the outer wall. The young man hardly had time to throw the blanket off his body after leaving the sweltering air near the shack before Pacifica had launched herself at him and kissed him straight on the lips, her eyes tearful. 

“Oh, you made it back! You were so brave.” Pacifica sniffled, holding his head in her hands and running a thumb over his soot stained cheek.

Dipper smiled in a melancholy way and replied, “We’re all together now, that’s what matters.” He embraced her lovingly, overwhelmingly grateful that after all that had just happened, he still could.

Soos ruffled the boy’s hair affectionately and told him, “You must’ve done some pretty sweet moves in there, dood.” 

“I couldn’t see anything, the smoke was so thick. If only I had another Truesight Potion, it would’ve been a lot easier to find him. Instead I blindly ran into him hiding under the toppled Christmas Tree… The whole living room was on fire…” Dipper replied in a haunted tone.

“Oh man…” Soos worried, sitting heavily on the dead grass beside them that had been stripped of its snow blanket by Mabel.

“It’s all gone…” Pacifica whispered heartbrokenly, holding her boyfriend tight as she stared at the gaping hole that had used to be the kitchen window where the Menorah would’ve proudly stood.

Dipper’s face was thick with emotion. “Not all of it.” He tried reassuring her, stroking her hair. He wasn’t sure how much of his own room had survived, if any of it had at all, and it made his throat tighten with sorrow.

“Do you think the portal is safe?” The blonde said in a voice that was thin as fragile glass.

“I didn’t see any burning get past the vending machine, so I don’t think so. The eye scanner should be safe.” He muttered depressedly. As he watched Mabel finally pocket her handbell and come back to join them, he could only stare at his terribly scarred home and wonder with dread at just how many of his beloved possessions had turned to coal. How many of them held such sentimental value were still in there, undamaged and waiting to be found? Had the journals survived? Or the beakers Pacifica had gifted him? It made his empty stomach lurch with nausea and hold Pacifica closer.

As the last of the flames went out and became nothing more than charcoal and steam, Mabel wiped the sweat from her brow as she panted, shaking from the adrenaline. There, she had done it. She had at least kept the shack from completely burning to the ground, it was all still standing and only half way blackened. It wasn’t until her legs gave out from under her and she sat on the other side of Soos in the snow, just watching her burnt home smolder with her mouth gaping like a fish, that the numb fear she had felt up until this point fizzled away and the emotional consequences of such a sight finally caught up with her. She realized with a punch of shame what a failure she had been. It was plain to see right before her eyes, the Mystery Shack had gone half up in flames. That was half her home that she had failed to protect, her own weakness dragging her to sleep so Bill could light her and her family’s abode ablaze… Somehow. How could she have let this happen? It was her fault, she hadn’t been strong enough…

Maybe the damage just looked worse from the outside and most of it was alright on the inside, she thought with scrappy optimism. She thought of her Grunkles’ Christmas presents that had succumbed to flame, the old yellow couch and gross shag carpet that were now melted, and the many relics and curious oddities of the gift shop that had surely deformed and been made desolate. All she loved and cherished lay dead at her feet, well, all except the little family she had. At least Cipher hadn’t managed to take that away. That was the thread that held her together, thin and delicate, but there. Barely.

Then it hit her. There it was, another vision had just come to pass, and the thought plowed through her like an atmosphere frying meteor impact. She could see it playing out now in her mind, Dipper had run off back into the burning shack with the protection of a Radiant Potion, just like she had seen in her dreams. Horror boiled up inside of her, thick and poisonous, as she covered her gaping mouth with her hands as if it were to leak out and spill acidically onto the snow. Wet, salty water filled her eyes and spilled onto her ashy cheeks while the stars overhead dwindled out, replaced by the deep blue sky of dawn. The sting of the winter morning finally grated against her skin, raising goosebumps by replacing the heat of the fire that had died and disappeared. Bill was winning, he was slowly bleeding her out and now she was faint from bloodloss, unable to stand the heat. It was clear as spring water, the pressure of it all was killing her. The thread was thinning.

Nonononono, maybe she could still fix this. Somehow, someway, it might be okay. She stubbornly held onto her resolve by her stress chewed fingernails because breaking down meant spilling everything, giving her family more anxiety than they could bear. It meant letting down the oracle, Grunkle Ford, and herself. Panic gripped her vocal cords, binding her tongue from speaking anything to her loved ones as they sat silently beside her, caught up in their own terror-struck thoughts. She wanted to tell them of her dream with the demon, her suspicions that he was behind this. But she couldn’t, she was gripping the hem of her shirt tight enough to rip the fabric and was rigid as a steel beam, her eyes staring through the shack and inwards at the fears of her heart instead. If she spoke she dreaded she would break down like an ancient lemon of a car, never to start back up again. So she just stared, unfeeling, unblinking, putting up flimsy walls of wet cardboard to keep any emotions from entering her head. She held herself together by a fraying hair.

The wail of a siren came bounding up the hill, as did the crunching of tires from a news van and several other personal vehicles. They followed behind the first responders, the townspeople that were already awake surely concerned for the Pines family and their wellbeing. All cars stopped at the end of the road and just before the edge of the yard, fearing if they got too close to the wreckage of the shack that they may still be burned. It wasn’t an irrational fear, the charred tips of the pines that surrounded the house were warning enough.

“Oh, they’re here!” Soos exclaimed, picking himself up off the grass and running off towards the Sheriff’s vehicle.

The Mystery Trio watched miserably as the citizens of the town all began to exit their vehicles with shock plastered across their faces. They turned to Soos for answers, huddling closer to him as he gave a report to Sheriff Blubs and Deputy Durland as Shandra readied an early morning report. Honestly, it brought a speck of warmth to Mabel’s heart that so many people had arrived to ensure they were alright. But as a ghost of a smile appeared on her face, a final car came driving up the road and went straight past the little crowd, ending in the dirt parking lot not twenty feet from the three of them. 

It made Pacifica’s blood freeze over seeing the early morning sunlight glint off the tinted windows of the blacked out Rolls Royce SUV. She sharply sucked in a chilly breath of air that suffocated her lungs as her own father exited the vehicle, her already miserable start to the day curdling further. Things just kept getting worse.

“Pacifica! My goodness, are you okay?” Preston cried with genuine surprise and concern in his voice as he walked at a brisk pace towards her. 

“Dad?! What are you doing here?” The blonde cried exasperatedly, her heart rate doubling as hurt and fury roared within her. She wiped her red eyes on the sleeve of her nightgown and allowed a tidal wave of anger to crash through her. Some nerve he had showing up here, catching her crying in her pajamas with no makeup on and her hair undone. 

“I saw police sirens headed this way and I wanted to make sure you were safe.” He explained to her honestly. Then he muttered under his breath, “This wasn’t part of the plan.”

Pacifica pounded together a snowball and hurled it straight for his head. “That’s some excuse!” She screamed, watching him duck out of the path of the projectile and come towards her. With all her exploding loathing inside of her, she completely forgot the speech she had planned to give him when she saw him next and let her emotions take control of her tongue.

“You’re coming with me right away. Come along.” He continued in a commanding tone, grabbing her by the wrist. If Cipher was ignoring the strict guidelines he had set up around his daughter’s safety, then there was no way he was going to let his only child hang around the shack he wanted so desperately any longer.

“Let go of her!” Dipper roared, clinging to his girlfriend and pulling her back. 

“For what? So she can go back to that dangerous shack? So she can continue to be miserable with you?” The millionaire scoffed, folding his hands behind his back. His face darkened and he barked, “Darling, your life has been nothing but struggle with these kinds of people. It was only in my charity that I allowed you to stay here in the first place, granted that you had a roof over your head with Stan Pines to care for you. Now they’re both gone.”

“...How did you know that?” Pacifica inquired uneasily, her vexation briefly freezing to fear.

“I don’t see the man around, do you?” He retorted easily, hiding a smirk. 

“That doesn’t mean anything.” Dipper seethed, now standing protectively in front of his significant other. If he had to hand out an award to someone for the worst sense of timing, he would without a doubt give it to Preston Northwest.

Preston ignored the young man and continued speaking to his daughter, “You’ve seen it yourself, surely, all these most horrible things keep happening to you in their company. You can’t cling to a school that’s flooded or to a working class job in a restaurant that should be condemned, much like this shack. None of this ever happened in your old life. You stayed safe while ruling over everyone in your own home, it wasn’t overrun with monsters and ghouls and-and fire for heaven's sake!” 

“Liar!” Mabel shot, gathering every last tiny scrap of courage she could muster while trembling as she got to her feet, clearly remembering the night the mansion had been haunted by a lumberjack ghost. Paz was in trouble and she wasn’t going to just sit here and let it happen. She hadn’t been enough to save her home but she could still save her family. It was all she had.

In the back of Dipper’s mind, a tiny voice of puzzlement couldn’t help but wonder how the man could’ve possibly known about the monster problems they’d had at the shack. Instead he focused on his anger as he clenched his fists and his jaw and barked, “How can you say that to your own daughter?”

Pacifica’s face was red with rage as she stamped her foot as she shrieked, “You did those things! You’re the reason I’m miserable! I would ask if you had no shame but I already know the answer to that! The audacity you hold to hurt me so much, it’s inhuman.”

“I’ve done no such thing.” Preston said coldly, turning his chin up at her.

Dipper growled, “Oh yeah?” And turned to Pacifica. “Show him, Paz.” 

“Then explain this.” The young woman roared, reaching into her luggage and pulling out a bullet casing with the Northwest seal on it. She threw it right at him and it bounced off his tie and softly hit the snow, glistening in the new, dim sunlight.

Preston looked shocked as he gazed down at the brass casing laying against the chilly white powder but composed himself quickly. “Fine. So I did do something. But only so you could see the truth. To see how much these things are beneath you.”

The blonde’s mouth hung open in disbelief at the sheer insolence she was hearing. “I hate you.” She screamed, the sound waves bouncing off the smoldering walls of the shack so it could echo back to all of them.

“What did you just say to me?” The man asked venomously, the rising sun outlining him in cold light.

“I said I hate you!” She yelled again, her abhorrence echoing off the tall trees.

A gust of brisk wind blew across the yard, stretching out the silence that followed throughout the forest. Preston’s gaze was sharper than a scalpel as his own anger showed now. His plan had gone up in smoke, turning out the complete opposite way he had envisioned it but now that didn’t even matter. He was in charge here. So he would make his child obey him. “You’re an ungrateful brat.” He hissed, gripping Pacifica tightly around the wrist and yanking her around Dipper. “I provided you with schooling when you had none and now I’m giving you a new home to go to after this one has turned to nothing. You should be delighted to come with me.”

“Hey, ow! Dad, that hurts.” The blonde cried, digging her heels into the ground as she was dragged along. She begged for the Pineses help with her eyes, struggling against her father’s grip.

“Maybe it’ll finally teach you a lesson. Maybe spending Christmas locked in your room will make you a little more grateful.” He spat, forcing her to the SUV.

Dipper’s fists balled harder and Mabel took a hold of her handbell. The boy raised his arms and rushed towards the man to aid the one he loved as the girl rang her bell and planned to encase his feet in ice. 

Sensing those unruly kids would turn violent on him, Preston turned around just beside his ride to look them straight in the eyes and relayed bitingly, “If either of you so much as touch me, I’ll blast the story of Mabel’s return to every news station in the country. How would you like Gravity Falls to be swarmed with newscasters sticking their noses in every nook and cranny of your smoldering hut?”

Pacifica shook her head as tears streaked down her cheeks again, fretting to the siblings, “Don’t do it. Guys, I’m not worth that.” Her father was using her as blackmail while he unknowingly threatened the security of Stan and Ford’s return and it made her want to scream.

The twins glanced back at the townsfolk not too far off that were busy offering their condolences to Soos, their faces empathizing with his trial and giving their comfort. What would they do? Risk all of Gravity Falls and the safety of the portal for Pacifica? They saw the ancient redwood trees, beautiful and untouched by a large population and noticed the flock of Stomach-Faced Ducks that flew in a V shape overhead, towards the crystalline waters of the lake. A full blown investigation of their beloved, hidden town would spell disaster for all life here and put their Grunkles’ only way home in jeopardy. Sharing a heartbreaking look was all it took for the twins to make their decision. With mourning in their eyes, together they backed off and lowered their weapons, feeling smaller than ever. 

“That’s what I thought.” The Northwest smiled and swung open the back door of his blacked out vehicle. Then he jabbed at them, “You’re lucky I don’t care enough to call your parents.”

They watched Pacifica get dragged into the car like a criminal and tossed in the back seat, landing jerkily on the pristine leather seat. Her father forcefully sat beside her as she shot them one last pleading look. He slammed the door shut and a second later the expensive car squealed out of the dirt parking lot, speeding past the small crowd.

“Paz, we’ll find you! We’re coming for you!” Dipper yelled, running after the car in vain. 

He only got a dozen or so steps forwards when he had to stop, knowing in his gut that his efforts were useless. Pacifica’s worst fear had just come to pass and it dried his mouth to cotton instantly as his heart sank to his knees. She had fought so hard to carve out her own path and make her home with them, now it had all unraveled in a matter of minutes. Seeing that dark car disappear down the road felt like he was in the movies, on one side of a rapidly splitting continent while she was stranded on the other as a bottomless chasm grew between them. He gripped his hair agitatedly, bottom lip quivering as his eyes darted all around as if his surroundings hid his solution. But there was none to find, it was over.

Mabel’s thread snapped.

A sob came from deep within her, carrying up heaps of pain, stress, frustration, and longing with it like a volcano gathering boiling magma from the bowels of the earth and blowing it everywhere in an intense explosion. Trying to stop it was like an attempt to halt the flow of a raging river with her pinky alone. Her mouth twisted into an ugly frown as she wailed, constrictingly hugging herself as her knees went weak and they fell to the frozen ground. Warm water flowed from her eyes in streams, every cell in her body screaming in sorrow. She cried continuously, only able to get in miniscule amounts of oxygen between sobs, eventually expelling all air from her lungs until she was dizzy and gasping for breath.

What Jheselbraum had told her on that wicker couch in Dimension 52 was a complete lie and it killed her inside, she didn’t have the power to keep her family together because it was too much to bear. She hadn’t protected the ones she loved, Pacifica had been taken from them, snatched up and there was nothing she could do about it. Bill had knocked them down at every turn, continuously ramping up the heat of the oven of life with every passing day. They had been baking alive until he had completely engulfed their own home in his fiery flames and the faulty clay vase that she was had exploded, unable to stand the pressure for another moment. So much for the Prophecy Spell, it was clear to her she was never going to be able to cast it, why had she even tried in the first place? Now she had let Grunkle Ford and the oracle down, her vow to them no better than the ash of the shack. The rest of her visions were damned to come to pass because now they were doomed. She had failed.

“I’m. Not. Strong enough!” Mabel shrieked at the heavens, ripping her jingle bell from around her neck and her handbell from her pocket and casting them into the snow. Her dagger was next, unsheathed in an instant and thrown as far away from her as she could muster. “You hear that, you pink, frilly thing? I can’t do it!”  Her scream echoed across the stars, to the last faint ones dimming through dawn as tears flowed freely down her face. The morning star that broke over the mountains and snuffed out the last of the night’s twinkling felt like a herald of doom in that moment, rather than bringing forth the new day.

As her heart pounded in her ears and she shook like a house made of twigs in an earthquake, she wanted to rewind time and go back to her old self and beg her not to learn magic. Nothing but pain had come from it, it was the reason why her head pounded and her puffy eyes stung and was the source of her insomnia and her chronic stress. Surely no prophecy would have ever been given to her had she not taken up the role of a paladin in the first place. Damn the prophecy, damn the Axolotl, He had built her up under the anxiety of the consequences of failure and left her to watch everything crumble around her, slowly letting down everyone in her life, including herself. 

She sobbed as she yanked her singed unicorn-hair cloak from around her shoulders and hurled it away, the weight of one thousand suns worth of failure crushing her, “I didn’t ask for any of this! I don’t want this. Why are you making me endure this?”

The Axolotl gave no response.

When she had gotten home to Gravity Falls, she had been ecstatic to just be a teenager again. The freedom of not having to look over her shoulder all the time and sleep with one eye open had been intoxicating, but it was taken away from her just as swiftly as it had arrived. Oh she mourned for the childhood she had lost and for the joy she was still missing out on, even now. The weighty task she had been expected to complete as the protector of her home and family, carried on her aching shoulders, had at last become too heavy and had crushed her. Her chest felt broken, her heart shattered by the expectations she hadn’t fulfilled. The self hatred she had become so familiar with leaked poisonously from the tears in her psyche, soaking up in her body and damaging her further. Without a doubt she knew she deserved everything she was feeling, that’s what she got for being so weak. It turned her colder than the ice she sat in, frailer than the pale light of dawn, and more haunted than the corpse of the Mystery Shack.

Bill had won. And she had let it happen.

The crunching of snow underneath boots steadily got louder from near silence as Dipper approached, clearly confused as to what his sister was crying about but also very much concerned nonetheless. All he knew was that she obviously needed support right now and he was ready to give it. Because this may have just been one of the worst mornings of his life, only second to the first day he woke up without Mabel at his side, the night after she had been lost among the stars. If today had been so downright horrible for him so far, then it surely was horrific for his sister too.

“Hey Mabel, what’s wrong? There’s nothing we could’ve done. It’s not your fault, you know?” Dipper cooed, kneeling down beside her to gently pull her into a brotherly hug. 

“But it is! It is! I didn’t protect you, I couldn’t keep everybody safe.” Mabel bawled, curling up into a shaky ball against him and laying in his lap. 

“That’s not your job.” He said quietly, giving her a reaffirming squeeze with his arms.

“Y-you don’t… understand. It is.” She hiccuped, chin quivering and her breaths unsteady as a gentle snort came from beside her, indicating that Waddles had chosen to sit down nearby. 

“Hey, we all feel that way sometimes. That doesn’t mean it’s true though.” He whispered, eyeing the magical items she had tossed away into the icy snow. The sight sat unsettlingly in his stomach, why would Mabel have done that?

Mabel mentally kicked herself. Why was she allowing herself to be so pathetic in Dipper’s sight? She should’ve been comforting him. This was the opposite of how it should’ve been. With wet eyes she sniffled, “It is true. Dipper, there’s…” She stopped herself, was she going to tell him about the prophecy? Well it was over with, wasn’t it? And nothing could be done to fix that because she wasn’t enough. With a bitterness that suffocated her heart, she concluded that it didn’t even matter anymore. She wouldn’t care if he was angry or upset with her for hiding it for so long. It would be what she deserved. But the other half of her wailed in sorrow, distraught and pained over the price of her failure. Dipper deserved to know why Pacifica was gone, why their home was part charcoal, why she had been acting the way she was.

The young man noticed her pause and waited patiently for her to continue, the sorrows of the morning simmering in the background just subtly enough for him to be able to focus on what mattered most right now; taking care of what he still could. At the moment that meant Mabel, and even if he felt really crummy himself, she was going through something even worse. What that entailed he wasn’t sure and he had a suspicion she had been carrying it in secret for some time since, well, Mabel didn’t usually shout cryptic stuff at the sky and then cry over it.

Mabel’s face hardened as she wiped her eyes on her wrist before her expression softened and she gave in to her despair. “Oh Dipper!” She cried, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. I did a bad, bad thing, it’s been eating me up. I haven’t told you.”

The young man’s brows rose significantly as the light of the morning steadily increased but he remained silent, remembering when Pacifica had said something rather similar to him the day he had discovered Ford’s secret study. He learned that day that sometimes just silently listening was the best thing to do.

Nausea-inducing anxiety churned in Mabel’s gut but she buried her head in her brother’s shirt and persisted with her eyes squeezed shut, “There’s a prophecy… The Oracle gave it to me when I was in Dimension 52…” The young woman swallowed hard and made herself continue, “She said a known and unknown threat would come together to destroy everything I cared about once I crossed through the portal again. B-but she said I had the power to keep my family together…”

“Oh Mabel…” Dipper cooed, grave concern for her overcoming him. So that was why she was really so wound up this last week and the understanding unlocked the shackles of confusion limiting his brain. He had to admit, this was coming as an awfully big surprise to him and it made his head scramble to make sense of it. A prophecy? That was a big deal and he was unsuccessful at hiding the plain shock on his face. At least now he knew why she had been so protective of him and Pacifica this entire time, it was written on the walls of the universe to happen. And her intense fascination with Modoc’s cave painted a bigger picture now too, one that told him she had been looking for answers. Answers like the Prophecy Spell. 

The realization hit him like a strong swell of water that lifted him off the ground, soaking his head with new knowledge. If Mabel had been this worked up about the prophetic words she felt the need to live up to while also keeping others from coming to pass, then it was no wonder she wanted to cast that spell so badly. If only he had known, he could’ve helped her. The thought stifled his curious others and replaced them with sadness, for he grieved with his twin’s misery.

“But I couldn’t do it!” She exclaimed as she began to cry again, not giving Dipper much time to respond at all. “Paz is gone and I couldn’t stop them, the ones Jess had warned me about! I couldn’t stop Mr. Northwest and I couldn’t stop Bill. H-he visited me in my sleep, Dipper! He told me he started the f-fire and I let the shack burn half to the ground.”

“Woah, Mabel, it’s alright.” Dipper tried telling her, feeling rather unequipped to handle such a situation. He tried his best nonetheless and attempted to comfort her by informing, “You didn’t let the shack burn, actually I thought you did a really good job at putting it out.”

Fresh tears came in behind his eyes while his heart squeezed at the mention of Pacifica, also torn up at the tragic turn of events that had so swiftly taken place this morning. Then he dealt with the new, oozing fear that accompanied them, picking up the pace of his pulse as he learned Cipher had just nearly killed all of them. It gave him the urge to bolt upright and begin pacing in a circle to think his anxiety ragged but he compromised by biting the inside of his lip instead, hard enough to draw blood. He wanted to ask her what else the demon had said but it appeared as though she was working up the courage to speak again so he put a pin in that train of thought to let her say whatever it was she needed to. Turning his attention back to Mabel, he saw now that she felt like facing the threats of the last several weeks had been all her responsibility. But it just wasn’t true, how could he make her see that?

“And I even knew it was coming.” She blubbered, feeling no relief as she let the truth come out, only shame stickily coating her throat. “I’m having visions when I sleep, terrible flashes of things in the future. The fire, it was one of them! I’m so stressed, I’ve hardly slept in three days. I-I thought if I could just cast the spell they would all make sense. I tried throwing myself into the work and hoped it would be enough, but it wasn’t! It’s impossible. Dipper, I’m scared of what Bill’s going to do. But I can’t fight it anymore, I lost. I’m done.” She exhaled shakily, closing her eyes as she rested her head upon her brother’s chest, warm water squeezing out onto her eyelashes.

“Mabel, why didn’t you tell us?” Dipper exclaimed suddenly, feeling a new emotion descend upon him, frustration. Maybe it was the bad start to his day or maybe it was how stressed he had been or even something else, but his irritation now mixed in with his despair. It didn’t feel good to know his own sister had been lying to him and Pacifica for who knew how long, giving them false answers of what was dragging her down so badly. It hurt him, did she not think they could handle the truth? Why had she stowed her affliction away for so long, not allowing anyone else to aid her?

She wept, hugging her arms close to herself, “I was gonna, but then you got cursed and there was that whole thing with the ghosts and I-I dunno, we just got busy! You two needed my help, not my moping. Especially not during Hanukkah.”

“And you needed our help.” Dipper countered, his more heated emotion fizzling out to make room for further depression. He gazed upon the Mystery Shack, its maimed self reminding him of his sister. It would take a lot of work to fix up both of them. 

The girl sucked in a trembling breath and watched the charred edges of the trees sway in the dawn breeze as Waddles snorted sadly beside her. “I couldn’t accept it bro-bro. Not when the prophecy was given to me to protect you. I promised Grunkle Ford I would take care of you guys. I’m the one who knows what to do when it gets hard because I survived two years in the Multiverse. I fought monsters, bounty hunters, demons, and really scary, gross aliens. I got through dehydration and starvation, hiked in blizzards and climbed mountains. I fought Bill and won… Last time.” She unsteadily squeezed the air from her lungs and added sorrowfully with a shrug, “I have all this sweet fighting experience because I got wrapped up with Grunkle Ford and Bill and now that means I have to use it or else you guys die, that’s just who I am now. It’s stupid and grown up but there’s no way out.”

Dipper hugged her tighter and she rested her head under his chin, curled up in his lap with nothing to do but stare at the fruits of her labors, the gravely wounded shack. “I’m sorry.” He said sincerely and full of empathy, his anger vaporized. The liquid hiding behind his eyes made its way out and down his nose at last, dripping off the tip and freezing into the ground. Because he was sorry, he felt terrible for everything she had ever gone through. Their dangerous run-ins with Gravity Falls anomalies, fighting the Gideon-Bot and nearly falling to their deaths, being sucked into the portal and thrust into the chaos of the Nightmare Realm, fighting tooth and nail to live another day in the Multiverse, being betrayed by her caretaker and nearly falling prisoner to Bill Cipher, and now continuing the battle against the King of Demons all on her own, silently until she reached her breaking point. Her sweet soul had been chewed up and spat back out by life itself. 

They both sat there, their bleeding hearts pounding as they stared upon the harrowing symbol of all their tribulation, the main battleground of the past several weeks, the accumulation of a month of disquiet, the Mystery Shack. It was alive and standing, barely, perhaps just like them. But the scar that disfigured half of it was ugly and dangerous, weakening the rest of the building and making it at risk of even further collapse. Dipper didn’t know what that would look like on his family, but he told himself he wasn’t going to let the ones he loved slip any further.

It was at that moment a waft of smoke came from the ajar front door, which was followed by a rapidly growing glow of orange just inside the doorway. They were flames, ones that had come back from the dead after surviving in the ashes, ready to finish the job.

“I got it.” Mabel deadpanned, limping up to her handbell that was sticking out of a snowbank to her right, where the forest met the yard. If stopping randomly popping up fires while she died inside wasn’t an accurate metaphor for the last month of her life, she didn’t know what was. “Aucwcmw, gfjp ax cafb,” she muttered unhappily after ringing the bell and drew the three symbols in front of her. 

With a flick of her wrist, she expected a wave of snow to gather around her but no such thing happened. The shimmering cold particles remained where they were, giving no indication a spell had even been cast. She tried again, this time with growing alarm in her voice but still, no frozen water magically rose to meet her fingertips. Horror and anger in equal parts rose from the bottoms of her feet all the way to the top of her head. The bell fell from her numb hands silently, her face stuck in an expression of disbelief. It hit the snow as if in slow motion, making a soft thumping noise when it made contact, a melted drop of water spilling down one side like it was capable of weeping. With her jaw slack, Mabel slowly turned her head to look upon her dagger, terribly damaged like she was. It seemed as though neither of them were capable of any magic anymore and it rippled emptiness inside of her where light once was. But that was what she had wanted, wasn’t it?

The flames started to eat at the doorway again and Dipper didn’t even hesitate, he acted. The silver hand bell switched from the snow to his hands and he rang it twice, starting the spell like he had many times before with no luck. “Aucwcmw, gfjp ax cafb,” he ordered, understanding the utterance was a plea for the Axolotl to grace him with His power. He hoped the creature heard his message, not really understanding how that worked in the first place but trying his best nonetheless. With love for his twin as his driving force, he traced the symbols in the air. He knew that, in his heart, she should never have to go through anything alone. So if Mabel had fallen so much that she couldn’t get ahold of her abilities, then he would have to pick up where she left off. 

Small beads of snow gathered at the young man’s fingertips as energy faintly hummed within the bones of his hands. His eyes widened in wonder and he spread his fingers, causing more of the crystalized whiteness around him to jump from their resting place on the ground and form a palm sized snowball that hovered just below his hand. He marched up the burned porch to the source of the blaze, picking up more firepower all the way and threw his basketball sized lump straight at the base of the flames. They hissed into nonexistence immediately and left behind only a cloud of ash and steam. He lingered for a moment, seeing the way the foyer had been coated in dead, black soot and it made him shiver. It was like staring at a corpse, utterly fascinating in a way but thinking too hard about it made his skin crawl.

When he turned back around, he noticed that the crowd that had once been gathered around Soos had dispersed and gone back to their own lives to celebrate Christmas Eve. His heart twinged, like a dart of venom had struck it, when he saw the tire tracks of the Rolls Royce leaving the property, which had taken Pacifica with them. He also registered at last that he had cast a real life magical spell, his very first at that. It would’ve made him ecstatic had it been any other time but now he only got a faint sense of pride among a heaping of emotional aching. 

With the sun now partially over the horizon, it was light enough to see clearly and a chilly wind raced through the property. Soos had picked up Mabel into his arms and was cradling her like a baby, looking to be on the verge of tears himself. The girl’s dagger, jinglebell, and cloak were all still sitting dejectedly in the snowbank so the boy made it his job to collect them for her, even when he knew she wasn’t in the mood for them. 

“We’re all going to Abuelita’s house.” Soos explained in low spirits. “Maybe there I can call Mr. Northwest and tell him to reconsider.” 

“Yeah, g-good idea.” Dipper hoped against hope, struggling to keep his voice even.

Defeat hung heavily in the air, stinking up the atmosphere and leaving no room for any other mood to enter. Mabel wasn’t even daring to look at him as he tried casting her an empathetic smile, only staring numbly at her hands. She was placed in the passenger seat of his truck while Dipper ushered Waddles into the bed and then climbed into the back seat himself, getting a final glimpse at the shack. Like the start of a death march, Soos reversed out of the parking lot and drove down the dirt road towards his grandmother’s house.

Preston was fuming. 

He gazed solemnly out his office window, scotch glass in hand, his head a mess from the events that had just transpired that morning. While originally on his way to a holiday party in Portland, he had ordered his chauffeur to turn his vehicle around when he saw smoke billowing from that fateful corner of town. It had alarmed him to learn that the shack had caught fire, and even worse, his only offspring had been inside. Now she was locked away in her quarters, emotional and angry with him, all because that demon had grown impatient with him. It was plain to see that was the case, the hut had been set ablaze on Christmas Eve by a being who was traditionally known to love fire and be downright sadistic. If only he was allowed the time he had needed to fully turn his girl to him, he wouldn’t be in this mess.

A knock at his mahogany door brought him out of his thoughts.

“Come in.” He called, sitting down at his French rococo desk.

One of his butlers, an older man with a bushy mustache who he honestly couldn’t remember the name of, declared, “Master Northwest, I have documents for you to sign by the request of a Roadkill County Code Enforcer,” and set a small stack of papers down at his desk. He appeared rattled, but was making a valiant attempt at hiding it. 

Preston looked them over, surprised that they had arrived so soon, but signed them nonetheless. There really was no point in stalling this anymore and really, it gave him something to hang over Cipher’s head. He mumbled to himself, “This is all moving along too quickly. This isn’t how I wanted my Christmas to turn out.”

The butler cleared his throat and spoke up, “I must say, that enforcer was a rather odd fellow, Master Northwest. I don’t believe he blinked in the entirety of my interaction with him. When I bid him farewell, he simply limped away into the forest and a crow fell dead out of the sky, right at my feet. Now I mean no disrespect, but are you sure you know what-”

“Yes, yes, I’m well aware of what I’m doing. You are dismissed, by the way.” The man waved off, looking over the pages once more.

With a curt bow, the butler was gone and he closed the door behind him.

“That damn house fire ruined everything.” He muttered, sitting back in his plush, leather chair and closing his eyes. That demon had jumped the gun on his plan but now he was going to give him a piece of his mind. The ball was in his court, not the demon’s, and he was going to make him regret ever going against his back.

When he opened his eyes again, the colors of his ornately adorned office had been bled out into greyscale, just what he was hoping for. He remained seated at his desk though, not even wanting to bother standing for the demon’s arrival. Lightning cracked right at the door, heralding Cipher’s forthcoming in his mindscape. 

“Hey Presto, did you get my little present?” The triangle cackled, sitting on the edge of the desk.

“Whatever do you mean by that?” Mr. Northwest irritatedly inquired.

“Aw, you mean the butler didn’t bring the bird in? Talk about lame.” He huffed, crossing his arms.

“Don’t act so ignorant, Bill, I know what you did. What makes you think you had any right to set fire to that shack with my daughter sleeping inside?” 

Bill rolled his eye, not impressed with the way this flesh sack was running his mouth. Quite honestly he was done with this guy, but he just had some last minute things to accomplish before he would make him wish he had never met him. He retorted, “Yeah, but I didn’t hurt her. That was the deal, or didja forget?”

“You could have killed her.” He growled, abruptly standing and sending his chair back into the wall. “And for what? You would’ve gotten everything you wanted regardless before you decided to light that place on fire with my daughter in there.”

Bill rubbed his eyes with a growl of his own. He didn’t have time to explain the intricacies of what was going on in his life to this big headed, bumbling, waste of oxygen. He spat, “I already completed my end of the bargain, buster. I turned over your daughter, I got you the shack, there’s nobody home, now it’s your turn!”

Mr. Northwest threw his arms out in frustration. “What are you talking about? I did what you wanted, I ordered my best butler to fish a water- thing from the lake, forced some wretched maid to learn dark magic and trap animal souls, and signed your damned papers.” He jabbed a finger at the triangle, “You can’t move forwards without me, you’re stuck unless I decide to continue with our arrangement, and I won’t."

“O-ho you’re so kind, getting exactly what you wanted out of all that, your prissy daughter back.” The Demon King shot, standing up on the desk and clenching his fists to be eye level with the mortal.

“Because you set fire to her bedroom.” Preston cried exasperatedly. “That’s insane.”

Cipher’s demeanor abruptly changed and he laughed and laughed. “That’s because I’m insane, Pres.” The light began to fade from the room, the outlines of the walls, floor, and everything on them smearing into one another as the space began to deeply pulse like a beating heart. The demon hovered closer to the man, his eye crinkled in amusement when he said, “But you’re right, I can’t do anything without you. Which reminds me, y’know how you said the only condition of this little bargain of ours was that I kept that blonde rat safe?”

“...Yes?” He gulped, his eyes suddenly widening with fear that he may have made a mistake.

“Well I think I’m gonna cash in on that now.” Bill grinned, his hands reaching out for the human’s brain.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Preston cried, trying to step back to avoid the demon. But he was stuck, his feet had been enveloped in some sort of black slime as the room turned darker than a moonless night. He shouted, “Stay away from me, I command you!”

Bill only cackled, lunging at him like a rabies infested, hungry tiger. 

Preston’s screams of horror only stopped when his eyes were opened again.

The morning shuffled sadly into the afternoon, like it was just as depressed as Mabel and the rest of the gang were. Several trays of baked goods had shown up at the doorstep over the hours, the town once again sending their love to the little family in the way they could. The day seemed to have forgotten it was Christmas Eve entirely with the gloomy grey storm clouds covering the sky. They weren’t even snowing, just hanging around statically like the fifteen year old girl was on the couch with a blanket wrapped around her and over her head like a cloak. She still didn’t want to wear her real cloak, she didn’t even know why Dipper had brought it with him. It represented her failure as a person, the Axolotl that set her up to let her fall and now hadn’t helped her back up. 

“We gotta ‘nother loaf of cinnamon swirly bread my doods. Do you wanna try some, ham bone?” Soos asked Mabel gently after closing the front door, showing her the gift basket with the fresh baked food item. 

The young woman only shook her head a little, staring at the floor while she let Dipper hug her.

“Oh, o-okay. I’ll just put it with the rest of them then.” He deflated, walking downtroddenly into the kitchen.

With a huff, Dipper ended yet another call to Pacifica that went to voicemail and paced in a little circle to walk off his anxiety, praying she was alright. He hadn’t been able to get ahold of her all day. Neither had Soos, since his idea to call the manor itself hadn’t gotten far at all. Once the butler had recognized his voice, they hung up immediately.

“Mijo, they are ready.” Abuelita cooed to Dipper from the tiny kitchen near the back of the run down but quaint house, donning a pair of oven mitts.

“Ok, coming Abuelita.” He responded, sighing as he walked into the modest kitchen.

Soos and Abuleta were whispering at the oven in hushed tones like it was someone’s funeral, not a major holiday. They both stopped and smiled at him when he entered though and it made the contents of his stomach curdle. Grown ups only gave him that face when things were bleak. Not that he really considered Soos a proper Grown Up, but he was quite a bit older than him. 

“Well doods, I’ve gotta go pick up ol’ Melody from the airport.” Soos said, now dressed in an old pair of cargo pants and Mystery Shack Staff t-shirt that he had luckily left behind at Abuelita’s house. It was now his only pair of clothes. As he passed Mabel on his way to the door he added, “‘Cuz you’re totally rad and got me the best Christmas present ever, Mabel dawg.” With a sad smile, he put his bathrobe on as a coat and inquired of the girl, “Do you wanna come with, girl dood?” Then he told Dipper in the kitchen, “You’re invited too, Dipper.”

“No Soos, I’m not in a car ride mood.” Mabel sighed, chewing on the ends of her shoulder length hair. Since she had arrived home it had grown out a half inch or so, making it just the perfect length for the job.

Dipper shook his head from where he was helping the old woman in the kitchen with some baked goods. He didn’t want to leave Mabel’s side. Not when they were both feeling so low. 

“Oh, well o-okay. I get it. I’ll be back in a few hours then.” Soos nodded and headed out the door.

Part of Dipper was dying inside to rush up to the new Northwest Manor and break the door down to rescue his girlfriend, but he knew it would be a lost cause without Mabel, his other half. So he was torn, stuck between wanting to care for his sister and his girlfriend. But after sending thirty calls to Pacifica’s phone throughout the day, none of which had received an answer to, he decided he had done all he could for now. Because truthfully, he was discouraged. Not as badly as Mabel was, but it held tightly to him like hefty chains wrapped around his ankles and made doing really anything just that much harder. He told himself that was why he was helping Abuelita make gingerbread cookies, it was a fight against their circumstances. But also it was yet another attempt at bringing his sister out of her slump because it broke his heart to see her like that. Never before had he seen her appear so dejected. It looked wrong.

“We have festive dinosaur shaped cookies for you.” Abuelita’s voice came from behind the young woman.

A moment later, both she and Dipper had placed two plates full of red and green and blue and white ginger bread cookies that had been cut out into the shapes of different prehistoric creatures onto the coffee table, next to her various magical objects. They smelled delightful but that couldn’t take the haunted scent of charred pine from Mabel’s nose.

“They’re kosher.” Dipper dared smile, nudging her slightly as he sat on the couch next to her.

“Thanks guys, but I’m not hungry.” Mabel said truthfully. Even though she hadn’t had so much as a light breakfast yet, her stomach was up in knots while her head filed through every last fight, argument, and battle she had gotten into in the last month, wondering what more she could have done to keep her present from turning out like this. Her family was split apart and it was because of her ineptness at casting a single spell. The dense mass of her failure weighed her down and made something as easy as getting off the couch seem unreachable. 

Abuelita frowned and pinched the girl’s cheek. “I will cook a Christmas feast and then you will be hungry.” She said sweetly and returned to the kitchen.

“Hey Mabel, look at me.” Dipper said in a gentle yet firm manner, sitting down gingerly beside her on the antique, frilly couch.

Mabel obliged, her wetted eyes sparkling from the light of the nearby lamp.

“You’re not to blame for any of this. Bill is.” He told her nicely, wanting to hold her hand but being unable to with the way she had wrapped herself in a blanket like a burrito.

The girl started, “But-” 

“Nuh-uh,” Dipper interjected calmly, “I wasn’t done. Did you send the Eye Stealer after us? Or what about the Rat King?”

“...No.” Mabel said, downcast and avoiding his gaze.

The young man went on with a mission burning in his bosom, “Did you flood the school or put ghosts in Greasy’s? Did you light the Mystery Shack on fire?”

She shook her head and retorted, “No Dipper, I know that. But I let Grunkle Ford down. I let Oracle Jheselbraum down. None of us are safe and Pacifica is trapped with her scummy dad. Our December celebrations have been a disaster and now we don’t even have a real home to go to on Christmas! And all because I can’t cast a stupid spell. Bill was right, I’m not strong enough.”

Dipper blinked in surprise at the self deprecating tone in his sister’s voice that reverberated around the otherwise hushed house and he reared back just a little, squeaking the old couch. He had to pause for a second to process what it was she had even said about herself and when he found his voice again it was authoritative, almost parental in nature. “Woah hey Mabel, don’t ever say that about yourself. So maybe you think you weren’t strong enough, okay.” 

“No Dipper, I know that. I-I thought I was strong, strong enough to carry the weight of the world on my back. But it broke. Now I’m here.” She said dejectedly, staring at a particular floorboard that had a wood grain pattern of a smiley face in it as the pines swayed gently in the breeze outside the window.

“So what?” The young man shrugged, hoping he could get his twin sister to understand what he knew to be true, “Nobody’s invincible.”

So what?” Mabel repeated rhetorically, the perplexment in her eyes searching for the logic in his, “Dipper, being strong is what lets me help others, it’s what makes me good.” Her next words sounded very quiet and still, as if they were exceedingly delicate, “If I’m not being good, then what else is left for me?”

An immediate shower of sorrow emotionally drenched the young man upon hearing this; he knew where this new prioritization of strength in her mind had come from. The Multiverse and all its woes that it had forced her to survive through had hardened her to the point she had become brittle. Now she had shattered. Because it had changed her, not for the better, and it wasn’t her fault. She had adapted to the bad hand she was dealt and now the scars were surfacing, taking his sister and everything he loved about her with them. She lacked that good spirited, mischievous sparkle in her eyes, her authentic, happy-go-lucky attitude, and a flare of genuine optimism. He missed his Mabel.

A bittersweet smile came to his lips and he scooted a bit closer to her so he could wrap an arm around his sibling buried under the fuzzy blanket. He cooed, “You’re adventurous, free spirited, smart, creative, brave, and like the kindest person I know. Are you strong? Absolutely, but you can also rely on us. We always figure it out when we have each other, don’t you remember? We used to go on adventures all the time together.” The reassurance in which he gave to her aided the lifting of his own heart out of the demoralized pit it had fallen into this morning. It felt good to help someone else.

The girl frowned a miniscule amount, her head coming to lay on Dipper’s shoulder. She wanted to believe him and appreciated what he had said about her but she really just couldn’t. Not when their current situation was completely different to the one the first summer they had arrived in Gravity Falls. She managed half a genuine smile to say, “Thanks bro-bro, that’s really nice for you to say. But this is different now. This involves Bill. We had no idea what we were getting into when we were twelve, but now we do. Dip, there are lives at stake. Pacifica is in danger, the whole world is in danger and I couldn’t stop it from happening.” Her final words cracked like glass, her bottom lip beginning to tremble.

Dipper was not deterred, he gazed solemnly out the window to the town beyond that he cared so much for and went on determinedly, “Well if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that if we stay together, there’s nothing we can’t overcome. Stan and I repaired an interdimensional portal together, you and Grunkle Ford fought Bill and won, and we all came together again. Because we worked together, not in spite of it.” He turned to look at her now, his expression strong-willed and kind, “We defeated the Eye Stealer together, using our plan to explode its head for goodness sake. We rescued Atl from the school after putting our heads together and you and Pacifica really had my back when fighting against the Rat King. None of us would’ve solved the mystery of the ghosts at Greasy’s without the others. We’re always there for each other, Mabel.”

The sweater-wearing girl’s eyes sparkled with tears when Dipper’s speech processed in her brain, her neurons knowing deep within her that he was right. She gently removed the blanket covering her head like a hood so she could see him more clearly as the sudden comprehension dawning on her face made her smile vulnerably, hanging on to every word he had said. It was only then that she at last understood that no, she wouldn’t have been able to take on the monsters that had descended upon them all alone. Without her two companions, she would’ve died under the Eye Stealer’s freezing gaze, drowned wrestling the Water Elemental up to the lake, been eaten alive by electric rats, and gored on the ghostly antlers of a bull elk. Without Dipper and Pacifica’s help, she would have died of smoke inhalation on her front porch, too weak to make the final stretch to safety. Without Dipper and Pacifica, none of this would have been possible. In reality, it was the teamwork and the aid they gave to one another that had allowed them to persevere to today. It filled her with wonderful, warm love, bringing back the light to her eyes.

“Being strong doesn’t mean you have to do it all on your own.” Her twin emphasized, his voice unshakable.

Dipper’s words were a symphony of music in her ears, beautiful and sweet, bringing her a magical comfort like she had never known before. She picked up the pieces of her shattered will and used the glue of her brother’s wisdom to put them back into place. With her stress melting off of her in droves she stared at him, her eyes wide in realization as he wrapped her up in a loving embrace. Mabel embraced him back, hiding nothing as she sobbed into him, letting every negative thing she had felt today spill out of her and evaporate into the wind. She accepted the fullness of his comfort, falling into him and not worrying one iota about it. Not because of her weakness, but due to her strength.

They remained like that for several minutes, the young man holding on tight as he cried too, but silently. It had been a hard day. Being able to get some of his emotions out of his brain and flowing down his cheeks did him well. He hoped he had gotten through to Mabel because if she pulled away and he hadn’t, well then he didn’t know what he would do. Eventually he would have to leave her to go after Pacifica and he really didn’t want to have to do that, it broke his heart just to think about it. As his sister finally ended the hug with wet eyes and shrugged the blanket off of herself, he had to admit his heart skipped a beat.

With her chest swelling with newfound hope, Mabel tackled him into yet another hug and cheered, “Oh Dipper, I’ve been so silly this whole time. You’re right. I needed help and I didn’t ask.” Her words turned apologetic and she went on, “I’m so sorry… Can you forgive me?”

Relief flooded through him like a tsunami crashing against a coastal town and he couldn’t help but be just a little proud of himself as he embraced her once more, leaning back against the cushions. At last, he had gotten through to her. He grinned, “There’s nothing to forgive, Mabel. I just wanted you to see what I did.”

“Huh.” The sweater-wearing girl dictated in thought, sitting back up for her mind to work most effectively. 

As her eyebrows furrowed, she reflected on perhaps all the ways she hadn’t seen what her brother had been attempting to teach her this entire time. Her way of thinking had really been a hindrance to her, causing much more stress than she otherwise would’ve had. First she remembered the night it had all started, when Pacifica and Ford had seen the melting golden statue of Cipher look at them in the fire. She had been so hard on herself afterwards, being upset for making an attempt to move on with her life and heal from the pain of the Multiverse. Under the wisdom of retrospect, she now understood that she had overreacted, getting all riled up and going on full alert and locking down when telling the whole family how she’d felt would’ve been much better. But she had gone to Grunkle Ford at least because he understood her, where she was coming from, and her plight with prophecies and fighting Bill more than probably anyone else. Grunkle Ford had been the protector in her life, the one she felt she could go to for safety, and once he left, she took that role upon herself for Dipper and Pacifica. A dollop of heartache tightened her chest when she sadly came to the realization that Ford probably didn’t even want her to try to be strong all the time, like she had seen in him.

Your job now is to be free to be a teenage girl. He had told her in the living room of the Mystery Shack the night he and Stan had decided to go back through the portal and she frowned, disappointed with herself.

She hadn’t listened. It was because of that she clearly saw the baggage she had taken home with her from the Multiverse. Her hyper vigilance of the slightest signs of danger, accompanied by great guilt when she felt as though she hadn’t been effective enough wasn’t something she struggled with before going through the portal. Neither had the constant, buzzing worry of what could possibly go wrong next, nor had her complete lack of the ability to ever completely relax or calm down. Her heart throbbed even more intensely, becoming heavy in her ribcage, when she comprehended what this meant. She had grown up far too much, far too quickly. Her maturity had been something she had grown proud of in a way, her resilience shining like polished armor on a dignified knight, but it was actually her cage. No teenager acted like she did, probably for a good reason.

“Dipper… I-I think I’m traumatized." She whispered, half in sorrow and half in relief. This new revelation was a bittersweet one, it took much agony to get here but now that she knew it, maybe she could start to rebuild what she had lost.

The boy chewed on his lip, stewing this over. “Yeah, yeah I can see that. We can get you help, though.” He softly said not unkindly.

The words she had screamed to her great uncle under the frigid light of a portal some two months ago popped into her head and it was with a sense of strange irony that Mabel Pines realized that she too had some growing down to do. It was plain to see the unrealistic pressure she had put herself under, especially after the grunkles had left. Because she was just a teenager, she should’ve used Dipper and Pacifica’s help to focus on acting her age rather than suffering in silence. Her mind took her back to her insistence to be the one to lead her family through the house when searching for the Eye Stealer, not allowing her companions to help. Then it was the caves, brushing off Dipper’s suggestions towards the importance of particular paintings while she searched for something that would’ve reinforced the idea she was on a solo mission instead. Next came her silent battle with her visions, growing more resentful towards herself and the Axolotl with each passing day. By the time she had dealt with the elk ghosts, her head had turned into an incredible mess.

But it was the tribulations of the Multiverse that had gotten this mindset seated in her brain in the first place. How many times had she been forced to prioritize her toughness for her own survival, leaving her emotional needs in last place? The still haunted memory of the first time she had to take life on a speeding train in a crimson forest flashed before her eyes, quickening her breathing and the rate of her pulse. She hadn’t allowed herself the time she needed to grieve and process that event in order to get away from the law and live another day. Then for the sake of normalcy, something she had always craved since her journey among the stars had begun, she swiftly told herself she had moved on and gotten over it. But she hadn’t, since she had held onto that two year long fight for her life across countless dimensions, dragging its ugliness back home and carrying it everywhere with her, unable to let go of the weighty thing. She saw now how she had held onto her cloak and dagger, boots, bandanas, and bells, telling herself she just felt too close to them to let them go yet. With the clarity of reflection, she comprehended the other side of how she felt about these belongings, that it wasn’t safe to part with them and doing so would expose her to danger.

As Mabel played with the neck of her sweater with one hand, she rubbed her eyes with her other and sighed heavily, “I totally freaked out, I went overboard trying to keep the worst from happening all by myself. I shouldn’t have done that. I wasn’t sleeping, I couldn’t calm down ‘cuz I was so worried about Bill.” A realization flowed into her brain and she cringed, “Oh geez, I totally pulled a Grunkle Ford, didn’t I Dipper?”

Dipper brought a hand to his chin, briefly reflecting on this. “Yeah, I guess you did kinda do that, huh? But Bill does that to people, he hurts everyone.”

The self conscious look on Mabel’s face morphed into a grateful one seeing the steadfast love her twin had constantly given to her and she allowed herself to receive his gift. Her frown turned into a grin, feeling better than she had in weeks so she chirped, “His amazing bro didn’t pull him out of his deepest, saddest time when he needed it. But mine did.” 

It was with smiling eyes that the boy came to understand the complement that was directed to him and he responded, “...maybe not. But we have each other and that’s gotta be worth something, right?”

“It’s worth a lot.” The girl smiled sheepishly and admitted, “I just got all stupid and forgot that.” She blew a raspberry as she slapped her forehead to make her point. “So stupid.” She said to herself with a sigh.

The way Dipper’s chest bloomed with sunshine upon seeing his sister do something so genuinely goofy brightened his face considerably. Perhaps he had gotten his Mabel back, just like he had hoped.

Her eyes settled upon the big plates of dinosaur ginger bread cookies and she snatched up a white and blue Triceratops and promptly bit its head off, her hunger suddenly returning to her. But then her bells beside the rest of the sweets caught her vision and her stomach squirmed, remembering the problem of the Prophecy Spell that remained unsolved. She held on to her brother given faith though, the bleakness of her situation settling into a gentle melancholy rather than a hurricane of despair it had been earlier. 

After taking another bite of her cookie, she continued, “But without that darn Prophecy Spell, I’m still scared. Bill is still out there, Pacifica is still trapped.”

“Can I help at all?” Dipper asked genuinely, now munching on a green and red Velociraptor. 

“Um…” Mabel habitually reached for the corner of her cloak to pick at, only to remember she actually wasn’t wearing it at the moment. 

That brought up the anger for the prophecy and the god that tasked her with fulfilling it, making her nauseous just under her ribs. Maybe she really would never be able to stop her visions from all coming true, just like this morning’s fiery one. The image of Dipper running into the inferno of the shack sat unsettlingly with her. Really though, she was grateful he had chosen to go retrieve Waddles while she put out the flames and Pacifica comforted Soos. Her eyes widened in surprise when she noticed that too had been an example of her and her family working together for the benefit of everyone that she just hadn’t seen. Then there was the dream prior, down in the basement at the portal, where Dipper had honestly probably stopped her from prematurely turning the device on and had come to her to try and help because he had cared so much for her. Huh. There was another vision giving her yet one more instance of her loved ones helping her. Now that she thought about it, her nightmare of Pacifica on the steps of Greasy’s happening was the very thing that had encouraged her to go to the basement in the first place, where Dipper had tried to talk to her like he was now. 

So if these dreams of her’s had put her on this path, then maybe they were something more than just foreboding snippets of the future. Perhaps it was that the Axolotl had been trying to tell her something this entire time, nudging her along to discover the area of herself that needed some fixing up and healing. Because now that she looked upon the real substance of what was going on in these visions that had already come true, she saw that really, they were all about supporting one another. 

A soft rattling noise broke her from her thoughts and she lifted her gaze off the floorboards to see that her dagger was vibrating, gently shaking everything else on the table. Swiftly, she took it into her hands and the runes that had been etched into the heavily cracked flat of the ceramic blade flared with soft, pink light. It spread across the room as a peace filled her body, the blade relaying to her the truth in her thoughts. With a small gasp, her eyes lingered on her weapon, clearly understanding the message the Axolotl communicated to her through her trusty knife.

“Woah, I’ve never seen it do that before, have you?” Dipper inquired, his head swiveling all around to look upon the gentle radiance that bathed the room.

“Yeah but not like this.” She reverently informed him, watching the runes slowly fade out into darkness so the tired and broken dagger could rest. A fondness for her weapon swelled inside of her and she smiled upon it, grateful for what it had done for her. 

All of the sudden she felt very silly, her cheeks pinkening with remorse for the vexation she had felt towards the amphibious deity. Nothing but aid had He given her, she saw that now. All along, He had just been trying to help her see a neglected part of herself while warning her of the future. 

I’m sorry, Mr. Axolotl. Mabel offered in silent prayer and immediately, her dagger relayed the emotion of forgiveness to her, dissolving her guilt into love. Thank you. She further thought, comfort spreading through her bones.

She wondered if the same pattern would apply for the dreams that had not happened yet, if she couldn’t stop them, that was. Or maybe now that she knew what the Axolotl had been trying to say to her, the rest were just warnings. Was there a way to tell? This made her ponder over the question her twin had proposed not long ago; he had wondered if he could somehow help her with the Prophecy Spell. Was it really possible for him to aid her in her magic? Well he had cast a spell now, she remembered as she felt the heat of the morning’s flames reemerged on her skin. Shuddering them away, she noted that may be useful at least.

“Okay but seriously though, can I help?” Dipper asked, eating the last of his cookie.

“Hang on bro-bro, I’m thinking about it.” Mabel muttered as she contemplated.

She tapped her foot on the floor, her head scrolling through every magical memory she could, brainstorming any way it may be feasible for her to get help with that last, tricky spell. Then it hit her, her battle with the Rat King in the gift shop. Pacifica had run through the vermin and hugged her tightly, the emotional support she offered giving her just the boost she needed to brightly shine her light and vaporize the demon when she couldn’t on her own. Okay, that was good, but was it enough to bump her up to the nearly oracle level power she needed? 

Racking her brain, she closed her eyes and thought through the problem more thoroughly, deciding what it was that she and her companions brought to the table. Dipper was the brains of the group, he always had been. She had the actual skills, and good looks, with magic itself and was the best caster out of her and her brother. Even though Pacifica wasn’t there at that moment, she still thought of her since leaving her out of this felt wrong. She was the wise one, her humility and grace speaking volumes. Her eyes opened suddenly in comprehension when it dawned on her that these attributes all applied well to Oracle Jheselbraum too. But wait, hadn’t those been the qualities of oracles that she had pointed out to herself before? As her mind took her back to a memory of a session of spell practice sitting on the back porch earlier that December, she perceived that she had come to a similar conclusion then too. Yes, she was definitely onto something.

Dipper continued, “Because I’ve done a lot of reading what Modoc wrote and it seems like spellcasting is largely an emotional thing, so theoretically we can support you somehow, right?”

What Dipper was saying was right and she nodded along as an immense grin spread across her lips, a great excitement washing over her body. That was really it, she had cracked the code that had plagued her for a whole month. The solution was so obvious it was straight in front of her the entire time but she had just been blind to it. But instead of hating herself for grasping this, she mentally wrapped herself up in a big hug instead, celebrating the leap of progress she made. It made her want to fly, shout from the rooftops that she and Dipper had figured it out and she was free from the shackles of confusion. Being unafraid to use the help that her loved ones offered, just like the Axolotl wanted, was how she would win this battle over the Demon King himself and know how this story ended. That made her stronger than ever.

Her vision snapped to her brother’s and she gripped the front of his shirt at his shoulders, exclaiming triumphantly, “Dipper, I think I got it. With all our different strengths combined, I think we might be able to pull off a Prophecy Spell. You’re smart, I’m experienced, and Paz is wise. If we put ourselves together, we make an Oracle. Then I cast the spell with your help and I get to figure out the story of my visions and see the future!”

“So we can help then?” Her twin asked as hope blossomed in his chest and made his eyes sparkle.

She cheered, “Yeah, I think you can. But we need Pacifica.” The enthusiasm on her face briefly paused and was replaced with seriousness when she added, “And I need to see if I can actually do magic still.”

Dipper sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth while neurotic anxiety gnawed at the flowers of hope he had only just grown. Without Mabel’s ability to cast spells, this whole plan would fall apart and they would be left blind to Bill’s future schemes with fewer resources and defenses than ever. It was at that moment that the shocking realization that the unicorn hair barrier protecting the shack must’ve burned down earlier zapped through his skull, hitching his breath in his throat. But with the moonstones and mercury burned and unable to accompany the spell, it wouldn’t be as easy as using Mabel’s cloak for backup hair. So yeah, it was really important for her to get her magic back.

“Okay, here goes.” She exhaled and rang her bell. “Aucwcmw, lfush fj pxhs,” she begged reverently, her head bowed as she flawlessly traced three symbols in the air. Her hand lingered out in front of her once she had finished, pleading pleasepleasepleaseplease to the frilly god. With faith in her repentance, Mabel could only wait and see if the deity would beckon her call for His power to return to her and allow her to ultimately keep the hope she had battled to win back over her own mind in order to save her friend. Mellow energy warmed her fingertips, traveling down to the palm of her hand and she cracked her eyes open to see a baseball sized bead of radiant light just sitting in her hand. 

“You did it!” Dipper gasped as he leapt off the couch, his hands going to the sides of his head in giddy excitement. 

“Woot woot! We’re back in business, baby!” Mabel shouted, running in happy circles around the coffee table. Her magic was back, really, really, back and this, combined with her new and improved outlook on life, made her feel unstoppable. 

She threw the ball of light into the kitchen trashcan like a basketball, startling Abuelita, and clasped her jingle bell around her neck, prouder than ever to be a Paladin of the Axolotl. Her unicorn hair cloak came next and it hung pleasantly from her shoulders, showing off the purple sweater with three hearts across the front that she was wearing. Finally, she resheathed her dagger, but not before she kissed it gently and carefully gave it a hug. The holiday had evolved from despondent and gloomy to optimistic and gleeful for the twins, their spirits bright and full of cheer.

The fifteen year old merrily reached for his coat that was draped across the back of the couch and prodded, “So I take it we’re off to go rescue Pacifica?”

Mabel grinned joyously and jumped up and down as she threw jabs into the air, unable to sit still. “Like you’ve never seen before. Let’s put the movies to shame, bro-bro.”

Chapter Text

Mabel liked to think they were embarrassing the cinematic blockbusters with the coolness and skill in which she and Dipper snuck onto the property of Preston Northwest and climbed the magically thickened ivy vines to the roof. She had hummed secret agent music all the way while they slunk through the shadows, even if her brother had opted to stay serious and silent. Now he was picking the lock keeping the living room skylights closed while she pulled and gathered a thick length of vine for them to use as rope while they repelled awesomely into the house. With a mellow click, the lock told them it had been picked and the long plant was thrown down the opening after being tied to one of many nearby chimneys. Not too much longer and the teens were climbing their way down from the vaulted ceiling.

“This would be about ten times cooler if I had my crossbow. My grappling hook is still attached to it somewhere out there in the Multiverse. I hope it’s not lonely out there.” Mabel whispered as she and Dipper shimmied down the lush vine into the lavish living room, a blue bandana with a pattern of seven twinkling stars, embroidered in no particular arrangement, over her nose and mouth.

Dipper figured that no matter what he did to hide his identity, it would be obvious to the manor staff at who was breaking and entering with the goal of taking Pacifica with them, so he decided there was no use in wearing any mask. He chuckled quietly at his sister’s comment and gazed around the opulent place. It seemed as though Preston had a taste for the rustic with the log interior and the orange glowing, sweeping fireplace composed of rough, tan brick. Dipper made a sour mental note at the large rack of elk antlers sitting decoratively above the mantle. Directly beneath them, around a hand crafted, black glass coffee table, was a plush leather sofa that could easily fit fifteen people and behind that, the incredibly spacious kitchen. Midnight granite countertops complimented the redwood floorboards that led to the deck on their right, through the floor to ceiling windows that gave a spectacular view of the misty, snow dusted mountains. To the left of the living room was a pair of polished, naturally cut stairs connected to a hallway, one set leading to the third floor and the other to the ground one. The hall was adorned in red and gold trimmed carpet, just as the other manor had been, but with an added holiday flare of real life, holly garland.

Everything was cleaned spotlessly, like no human being had ever stepped foot inside, which gave the space a sort of uneasy atmosphere. The lighting of the dazzling fire and the Christmas decoration said there should’ve been at least someone around celebrating today, but no one was to be found. This was made even creepier with the radio on the kitchen countertop playing Christmas music all on its own, with no audience to share its songs with but the twins.

It was just at that very moment that the vine holding both of them up decided now would be a good time to completely snap in two, sending the two teens screaming onto the sofa, where they bounced both cushions and themselves onto a bearskin rug. The whole ordeal sent Mabel’s legs crashing into the coffee table, where her booted feet inadvertently kicked a crystalline scotch glass onto the hardwood and shattered it. Needless to say, the noise of shouting, followed by the crash of breaking glass attracted the attention of several staff members, who concernedly raced from up the steps and the doors past the kitchen to see what all the commotion was. They hadn’t been expecting to see two dazed teenagers lying haphazardly in the space between the couch and the table with a pile of vines laying on top of them.

Dipper quickly found his footing, shoved the plant matter off of himself, and helped his sister out of her awkward landing position and into standing as well. When he saw there were roughly ten or so real adults dressed all in bowties and slacks gaping at him, he laughed nervously, briefly reconsidered his life choices, but decided to persevere for the sake of his girlfriend. 

“We’re just here for Pacifica.” He firmly told the staff members. “We’re not here to rob you, just let us go with her and leave us alone.”

The staff all gave one another a series of uneasy looks and began awkwardly shuffling in front of the hallway, blocking their path to what the twins assumed was Pacifica’s room. That could’ve been the only explanation in their minds. 

“Hey c’mon guys, you really don’t want to fight us. It’s Christmas.” Dipper tried negotiating, gesturing to the twenty foot tall, most aesthetically pleasing, ornately decorated Christmas tree he had ever seen in his whole life sitting in the corner of the living room behind him.

“Yeah, we’re crazy and deranged and have nothing left to lose! Don’t fight us.” Mabel cheered, an unhinged grin coming to her face as she twirled her handbell around in her fingers.

“Well, I don’t know if I would go as far as saying that.” Dipper mumbled. 

The senior most butler, an older man with a rather elegantly bushy mustache, apprehensively stepped forwards but managed to explain eloquently to the twins, “You are Dipper and Mabel, are you not? We are sorry but we cannot allow you access to Ms. Northwest’s quarters at this time. Those were Master Northwest’s orders. You wouldn’t want to lose us our jobs during the season for disobeying him, would you?”

“Dipper, they’re aiding false imprisonment! We have to charge.” The sweater wearing girl gasped, pointing dramatically to the group.

“Okay, I really didn’t want to do this.” He said warningly, grabbing a clear potion from his belt. “Mabel, duck!” He cried, throwing the elixir at the feet of the huddle of house keepers and taking cover behind the sofa.

His sister luckily decided to listen to his instructions and also hit the deck as the Levitation Potion spilled its contents all over the pants and skirts of the others and as they cried out in alarm, they began to float up and away towards the roof. Some grabbed a hold of one another while others dropped their silver platters or cleaning supplies in a panic and flailed their limbs, trying to swim through thin air for the ground, to no avail. The radio and two nearby, leather bar stools that were in the splash radius of the liquid also began to fly. The music machine bumped the elongated, modern rustic chandelier gracing the counter, turned its own volume all the way up in the process, and began blaring “Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree” for everyone to hear as all hell broke loose.

The butler with the bushy mustache, already floating five feet in the air with no discernible way down, yanked a radio from his suitcoat pocket and cried into it, “All staff report to the second floor kitchen, we have a situation on our hands!”

Rockin’ around the Christmas Tree, at the Christmas party hop. The radio sang proudly as several chefs in pearly white outfits burst through the doors to the kitchen, gaping astoundedly at the sight that beheld them. Their fellow workers were soaring every which way, some cartwheeling nauseously in the air while others were clinging desperately to the chandelier, and one woman even held onto the lip of the open skylight, her legs dangling out into the free afternoon air.

Mistletoe hung where you can see, every couple tries to stop. The music machine went on dutifully with the saxophone, only adding to the chaos of the room while people shouted. 

“Hey you guys, think fast!” Mabel yelled after casting a Plant Spell, thrusting the end of the vine she had used to get in there in the first place like a whip at the chefs. The rope-like organism latched around the wrists of the nearest cook and bounced from person to person as if it had a mind of its own, hell-bent on restraining them. The sweater-wearing girl watched with amusement as the others attempted to flee from her magical plant by running along the length of the kitchen island, only for the vines to catch up to them and send them screaming to the floor where they were harmlessly ensnared.

Rockin’ around the Christmas tree, let the Christmas spirit ring. The song continued happily while plant matter snaked all over and twisted around the chunky table and non levitating island stools.

With the pounding of footsteps, a big and burly ginger man came running up the stairs with his mouth gaping and came straight for Dipper. The boy’s eyes widened but he raised his fists anyway and made himself light on his feet, only for the brute to stop right in front of him. He looked the boy over hesitantly, as if contemplating if fighting a teenager today was really worth it. Dipper was also uncertain and together they briefly gazed at their surroundings, perplexed by their shared situation. People flew everywhere, the kitchen was now more jungle than home, and a jazzy song played to top it all off.

“Hey listen man, I don’t really wanna hurt you.” Dipper informed, holding his fists out in front of him like a professional boxer.

The man briefly looked over to see the way the girl was using some sort of witchcraft to apprehend his coworkers, then back to the weedy teenager that had just implied he was capable of beating him up, and with much perplexment, grunted in a Scottish accent, “I’h wouldn’t worry a’bou’ tha’ too much, laddie,” before trying to reach for him.

That proved to be a mistake on his part, for as the radio played an appropriately upbeat holiday tune, the young man dodged his attempt at restraining him and landed a solid blow to his liver. He doubled over, only that to be his downfall when the skinny kid delivered a shockingly strong kick to his knees that toppled him over. 

Later we’ll have some pumpkin pie, and we’ll do some caroling. The music machine blared as it lazily meandered above the couch.

“Ok’ey, I retract m’ah statemen’.” He winced on the floor, watching his colleagues float around on the ceiling above him and wondering how his day could’ve taken such a strange turn.

“I warned you man, just stay down.” Dipper told him, standing over him, his eyes flashing with guilt for having to hit a complete stranger. He briefly considered drinking his Redwood Strength Potion but decided against it, he didn’t actually want to harm anyone and decided Grunkle Stan’s boxing lessons would do him well enough instead.