Work Text:
As he helplessly watched his body climb up the steps of the ladder, knowing full well what was about to happen, he had felt great anger. At Bill, for doing all of this. At Mabel, for not realizing his plight in time. At himself, for being so naive and stupid.
He closed his eyes, just as Bill stepped to the edge of that water tower. He didn't need to see it.
His anger at Mabel disappeared the moment he saw her break down. He watched as she lay on his bed at night, face down, crying and screaming into his pillow, as her body shook with uncontrollable sobs.
He sat down next to her and spoke some words of encouragement, desperate to calm her down; to comfort her in some way. When his words didn't seem to do anything, he instead laid his hand on her shoulder-
and watched, as it went right through her body.
He heard his Grunkle and Soos and Wendy talk around the cash register about what had happened. The three had made great effort to only talk about this topic when Mabel hadn't been around, so as to not upset her further.
The three were speculating on what had made Dipper do this. Soos had believed that it was some childish experiment or monster hunt gone wrong. Wendy had thought that it might've been a deliberate murder attempt by someone, made to look like an accident, though there wasn't any official evidence to support this.
And Grunkle Stan... well, he had hoped that his two employees were right in their assumptions. But he had also been afraid that it might've been a deliberate suicide attempt and that maybe - just maybe - he had failed so hard in his role as Dipper's great-uncle, that he had put too much pressure on the poor boy and hadn't even noticed any signs of depression or suicidal tendencies, that Dipper might've displayed.
At that thought, Stan broke down himself.
Of course Dipper tried to cheer him up and to convince his Grunkle of the opposite. But Stan just kept crying, not hearing his words.
It had been the fourth day in a row that Wendy had declined an invitation to hang out with her friends, instead spending her free time either alone in her room or out in the woods. Wherever there were no people to bother her and where she could think on her own.
Sometimes she even voiced her inner thoughts out loud. Most of the time it was questions and speculations about what happened that day and who could've done something to the boy. Other times it was doubts similar to Stan's; if it really was suicide and if she really had been so blind to overlook some troubling signs in Dipper.
And whenever her thoughts went there, she inevitably began to blame herself for perceived slights. About how she didn't defend the boy enough from her own friends' teasing or how she might've used the wrong words when she let him down, after that visit into the bunker...
Dipper often reassured her that none of those things were to blame and that Wendy shouldn't beat herself up over it.
But after the ninth time he just gave up explaining.
Bill, being the perfect sadistic monster that he was, had made sure to leave a taunting note for Mabel behind, hidden in Stan's car, that explained everything. But the first few days no one found it, everyone instead being occupied with their own grieving.
Dipper kept yelling at them, whenever they were in that car.
The note, look at that note! It explains everything! I didn't throw myself off that tower, Bill did! The note, guys!
They didn't find it for over a week, despite his yelling. When Mabel finally stumbled upon it, it was by complete accident.
His parents did a lot of thinking and planning on how to arrange his funeral. Dipper sat right beside them every time, telling them different wishes and ideas of his own. Things that he liked or that he thought could be cool.
After all, a funeral was depressing enough as it was, might as well try to make it somewhat interesting and memorable.
Two weeks later, as the funeral finally commenced, his plain coffin was lowered into a plain grave, as the people attending looked on in their plain, black outfits.
Great-uncle Ford was amazing! He was everything that Dipper had imagined and more. He was smart, he was cool and he had been related to Dipper.
Dipper had been related to the author!!
The boy kept following his new uncle all around, after Stan had gotten him out of that portal, constantly watching Ford as he performed his experiments or went on exciting adventures. And when Ford and Stan finally defeated Bill once and for all - avenging Dipper - the boy had been so proud of him.
He even told Ford himself how awesome and amazing he was, just hoping with all his might that his great-uncle could hear him. That he would notice the ghost of his great-nephew floating around him and be able to do something about it.
He kept hoping in vain.
Mabel visited his grave every day, even years later, just to bring him flowers and update him about the newest stuff going on in her life. Dipper always sat right beside her and tried to keep a real conversation going, by giving her questions and answering her own in return.
Mabel never gave any indication that she could hear him.
Those visits always ended the same way, with her apologizing profusely for failing him. Dipper in return apologized for making that deal back then and not being able to be there for her anymore.
No one could ever reply to the apology of the other one.
It had happened so quickly. One moment, his mom had been crossing the streets, her bags of groceries in her hands - the next she had been lying next to the street, after being hit by a drunk driver.
She didn't make it.
It had been the first death after Dipper's and just as sudden as his. Mabel had cried the hardest, reliving the trauma of loss all over again and her brother had once again been unable to comfort her, despite his numerous attempts.
He just wished that he could've said goodbye to his mom, before it happened; fully knowing that it wouldn't have mattered.
Grunkle Stan had been the next to pass on, seven years later.
This time it had been a peaceful death. He had spent his days in some hospital in Norway, after feeling somewhat weak and ill lately and had passed away in his sleep.
The twins only learned of that death two weeks later, when great-uncle Ford's letter arrived in the mail, informing Mabel of the passing and how the days of traveling around on that boat were now officially over, as Ford didn't want to continue it alone.
He ended up selling that boat and moving back to Gravity Falls, living with Soos and his family and spending the rest of his years among the beautiful Oregon nature and all the weirdness that lived in it.
Mabel visited Ford often and they sometimes ended up reminiscing together about their previous adventures in Gravity Falls and about Grunkle Stan. Dipper always made sure to provide his own stories as well, knowing full well that he wouldn't be heard by them, but wanting to belong anyway.
Once their dad died, Mabel was all alone. At least that's what it felt like to her. Sure, she still had her friends and Grunkle Ford, but most of them lived up in Gravity Falls, far away from her home in California.
She had often debated on whether she should just move to Gravity Falls and be closer to those people and Dipper had been all for it.
But in the end Mabel always chose to stay in her old home, not wanting to leave Dipper behind and alone in his grave.
Of course Dipper's explanations, that she wouldn't be leaving him alone, since he was always near her, literally fell on deaf ears.
It took many more years for great-uncle Ford to finally pass, but when he did, Dipper had felt a hole in his heart. Right up until the very end he had still hold on to a tiny glimmer of hope, that his uncle could fix his situation.
Obviously that wasn't happening anymore.
With Ford now dead and most of her remaining friends having moved out of Gravity Falls over the years, Mabel's visits to that town drastically decreased, instead visiting only once a year, to catch up with Soos.
Besides, Mabel had been too busy living her own life, dealing with work and relationships and everything else.
Dipper still kept following her around everywhere she went, occasionally commenting on her life. Once, when he had told her an old story from their childhood, his twin sister had actually stopped mid-step and quickly turned around and looked at him, her eyes wide and full of shock.
And for a brief, crazy, relieved moment, Dipper had hoped...
And then she had slapped her own head and loudly exclaimed that she had forgotten her wallet at home, before running back.
That was when he knew...
It truly was permanent.
There were days where he didn't know what he was even doing on this earth anymore...
The day his twin sister died on her deathbed at age 68 was one of them.
Dipper had stood right beside her as she gave her last breath, looking down at her peaceful, unmoving face. This time he didn't say anything.
He knew for certain now that no one would hear him.