Chapter Text
Thirty minutes later, Gus had managed to find not only a place that would let him rent a car on such short notice, but he’d also found a car that was a near perfect resemblance of the beloved blueberry. The only difference was that the new car was just barely a shade darker than the original.
“Nice! You got an echo of the Echo.”
“You know that’s right. So, what was the place you used to work at? The Mystical Cabin?”
“No, it’s the Mystery Shack obviously . C'mon Gus, catch up.”
Gus ignored his friend’s rude remark and began inputting the name of the place into the GPS. “And you worked for who?”
“Stanford Pines.” Which was definitely not his name. But he didn’t really feel like calling him ‘Stetson Pinefield’ or ‘Hal Forrestor’ or any of the numerous clearly made up names he’d found in the box of fake driver’s licenses and passports. “It was mostly me and him there-”
“You mean him and I.”
“No I did not. Anyways, the only regular was this one kid that came in all the time. He was… Sus- no wait, Soos. I’m not sure why he’d want to come back to the shack once, let alone multiple times.” He had to be in his early twenties by now. That really made Shawn feel old, considering the kid had been roughly four or five the last time he’d seen him.
The engine turned over, and Gus pulled out of the small parking lot. “So, not a lot of visitors?”
“Pretty much the opposite, actually. There were way too many people eager to spend two hundred bucks on a snowglobe.”
Gus’ eyes blew wide open at the price. “Two-hundred?! For a snowglobe ?!”
“That’s nothing, you should’ve seen the price for his bumper stickers.”
He shook his head. “How did he manage to stay in business?”
“It helped that the tourists were super gullible. A little fake advertising here and there got them to think he used actually trustworthy materials. They practically threw their money at Stan like he’d gotten on a stripper pole.” Shawn stopped, then shuddered. “Ugh, that was a horrible mental image.”
Gus checked the map on his phone once more. “Well, the GPS says it’s an hour drive to the Mystery Shack.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right.” The last time Shawn had gone down this road was on his motorcycle. It was before he could use GPS, but thanks to his eidetic memory he didn’t need it. One look at a map was enough for him to know exactly where he needed to go.
Buildings zipped by as Gus drove. The car was starting to become uncomfortably silent, so Shawn didn’t hesitate in leaning over and turning on the radio.
“ If you don’t want me, set me free, si no me quieres, líbrame -”
Shawn leaned back in his seat once more, satisfied by the choice in music. The scenery began to change from buildings packed together to the odd house every now and then with a few trees in between. Thankfully, the road remained steadily paved. For now. Shawn knew that the closer they got to Gravity Falls, the more beat up and gravelly the road would become. But for the moment he would enjoy the smooth driving as much as he could.
Shawn felt his eyes droop. A yawn escaped from him before he could hold it back.
Gus noticed it before Shawn could attempt to pretend he wasn’t tired. “You should probably take a nap, you look like you’re about to pass out right now.”
Shawn couldn’t argue with that. He could feel the gentle sway of the car lull him into drowsiness. “Yeah. Yeah that sounds good.” He felt around for the little knob that controlled the seat, fumbling with the different levers till he found it. But he pulled on it a little too hard and sent the seat flying backwards. He fell back abruptly, the seat making a strange cracking sound as it went down.
“Careful Shawn! I didn’t sign for the insurance. If you break it, that money’s coming out of your next paycheck.”
“You mean our next paycheck.”
“It’s the principle.”
“Dude, we left high school ages ago. Are you still not over-”
“I said principle , not principal .”
“I’m pretty sure I’ve heard that both ways-”
“No, you haven’t.”
“And as far as I’m concerned, you just said the same word twice.”
“There’s a huge difference!”
“What difference is there?”
“They’re spelled different.”
“They’re spelled different ?”
“Yes! It’s very distinct-”
Shawn tuned out Gus and closed his eyes, immediately slipping into sleep. And soon, he was dreaming.
———
His dream started off normal. Well, as normal as dreams can be when you’re Shawn Spencer.
It started off with Shawn as a merman, and thanks to dream logic he’d gotten tangled up in netting and stranded on the beach. And then Lassiter of all people was the one to cut him free. For some reason he looked a lot more attractive than he usually did.
But before it could continue, he felt… something pass over him. It was the strangest sensation, like the soft membrane of an unusually strong bubble flowing over and around him. The scene of the beach began to melt and morph into something different. A buzz tingled throughout him, nerves spiking as phantom goosebumps crawled over his skin. His muscles were stiff and unmoving. He could only watch the scenery change around him.
The sandy beach became splintering hardwood floors, crisp open air turned into walls covered in shelves filled with tacky merchandise. The seashells grew and mutated into gondola displays and round racks. All together, it made for a very familiar scene. In fact, it looked like the very place he and Gus were heading to right now: The Mystery Shack. But why was he dreaming of this place?
Disembodied voices floated from all different places. A high pitched tone came from the Employees Only door.
“…out… please…”
And a matching one from just beside the other.
“…agree… doing…”
A gruff New Jersey accent emanated from next to one of the stanchions, the first familiar voice in this entire dream.
“...not… black…”
Followed by yet another familiar voice, this one a bit more husky behind the cash register.
“...right… unable… wait…”
“...kidding… summer… denying…”
“...he said…”
The longer the dream went on, the clearer the room became. And with it, blobs of color started to form. Pink, then blue, then black and then tan… If he concentrated enough, he could almost see faces emerge from the colorful splotches. Just when he was about to see who was talking-
Shawn was rudely awoken by the sound of squealing tires, followed by the car swerving to an abrupt stop. He felt his head hit the corner of the console with a loud smack . “Ow! Dude, what gives?!”
“Did you see that?!”
Shawn sat up, pulling on the little lever to elevate the chair as well. He rubbed at the sore spot on his head as he looked around outside the car. “See what? I was sleeping, man.”
“There! Right over there!”
He looked out the window where his friend was pointing. All he saw was the scenery that had changed while he was napping, going from sparse woods and paved roads to dense forest and winding dirt roads.
Just as he was about to ask what Gus was talking about, a bush just off the side of the road rustled. He stayed quiet, curiously waiting to see if anything would pop out from behind the leaves.
“You’re never gonna believe this. It’s-”
And then something poked its head out of the shrubbery. Something small and fuzzy. And red.
“Dude. You almost crashed because of a squirrel ? I mean, I’ll give you some credit, I don’t think I’ve ever seen one that red before.” It was in fact very red. The poor squirrel looked as though someone had dunked it in a bowl of strawberry swell-swill for several hours. Wait a minute. Swell-swill ? Not Kool-Aid? Since when did he refer to the off-brand?
Gus leaned forward, confused. “What- no no no, I saw something else!”
“A possum? Raccoon? Please don’t say it was a raccoon, you know I hate them. I don’t trust those things, with their… beady eyes and- and their grabby little paws. They wear masks for a reason, you know-”
“No! It was a garden gnome! It ran off that way!” he pointed somewhere just slightly south of where the squirrel was.
Shawn stared at him for roughly five seconds. “What?”
“I know, I know it sounds stupid. And improbable. But I know what I saw, Shawn!”
“Are you feeling alright? I told you not to get that off-brand coffee from the airport. Who knows what they put in there, or how long it’s been sitting on some dusty shelf.”
“Says the guy that ate a taco he found between the couch cushions.”
“Okay, I’ll admit, I had a lapse in judgment one time .”
“And I’m not seeing things! I’m perfectly fine!”
“Rrrright.” Shawn was getting a little concerned now. Gus only got this riled up when he was absolutely certain about something. But really, gnomes? Something was up with his friend.
Gus shifted the car into park and unbuckled his seat belt.
“Hey whoa whoa whoa! What are you doing?”
“I saw something, Shawn! And I’m gonna prove it-”
“Dude, I’m sure whatever you saw is long gone. Just- can you get back in the car?”
Gus stopped, halfway out the car, one hand on the door and another on the roof. “I know what I saw, Shawn…” even as he spoke, a small flicker of doubt crossed his face.
“Look, I’m not 100 percent certain on the rules of driving, but I’m pretty sure that you’re not supposed to if you’re seeing things. How about if I-”
Gus snapped out of his trance and gave Shawn a look. “I am not letting you drive. Last time you drove, you tore the blueberry in half! It was a miracle the insurance company was able to cover the costs of repairs.”
“Okay, in my defense, I was running on righteous anger and roughly three hours of sleep.”
“Exactly. I’m driving.” And with that, Gus slid back into the driver’s seat once more.
As Shawn watched his friend buckle up, he pondered over whether or not to tell him about the weird dream he’d had. Upon further inspection, however, something told him he should keep it to himself. The way Gus was looking around all paranoid was enough to convince him to tell him later.