Chapter Text
Prologue:
Fiddleford McGucket stepped back, admiring his work. For the past few weeks, he had been tirelessly working on his latest project, a man-portable exoskeleton. Letting out a yawn, he shed his heavy welding apron, laying it over the back of a nearby chair. He grabbed his mug, finishing the last of the lukewarm black coffee before setting the empty glass on top of an antique, wooden chest. The room, which once held lavish dinners, parties, and galas was now pressed into service as a makeshift workshop. The intricate wallpaper was now hidden by countless sketches, diagrams, and blueprints. The glossy, hardwood floor was covered with rubber work mats and piles of boxes and parts. Rows of crystal chandeliers hung extinguished, replaced with arrays of blindingly bright, LED work lights.
“You still up?” A voice asked from the doorway behind him. Turning, he saw his son, Tate, leaning against the doorframe. “You're exhausted, Dad. You’ve been up for days; you need to give it a rest...”
“Just wrapping up.” He said, wiping his face with a rag. He was a wreck, covered in oil stains and fine plastic dust that clung to his skin and clothes. Wiping his hands, he dusted himself off.
“How’s it coming along?” Tate asked, slightly curious. Although he ran the business side of his dad’s new and surprisingly successful start-up, he barely understood most of his dad’s crazy inventions. One thing was for sure; with the massive amount of private and government contracts and grants that continued to grow daily, whatever it was his dad was building, people liked it.
“After a few more fixes here and there...” McGucket waved in the air at multiple parts of the machine. “...she’ll be ready.” He patted the metal composite frame fondly. “Just think about it, all the jobs it will make easier, safer...” He stood, daydreaming about the possibilities.
“It looks amazing. Well... I’m heading to bed. You better turn in as well. Not like it won't be here tomorrow for you to tinker on.” Tate teased. He stepped back into the hall, turning towards the staircase. “See ya tomorrow, Dad.”
“Goodnight son.” McGucket looked up from one of his diagrams, nodding with a warm smile.
Tate felt a pain in his heart, remorse for rejecting his ‘crazy’ father for so long... But he had miraculously rebuilt that shattered relationship, and for the first time, he had the father he had always searched for. And now that Ford Pines, one of his dad’s old friends, had developed a ‘mind restructuring’ treatment, his father was getting better daily. Not to say that he had lost the quirks and craziness that made him... him. Those were a natural part of Fiddleford McGucket.
McGucket watched his son disappear down the dimly lit corridor. Stretching his arms and lower back, he turned off the workshop’s lights and shut the glass-paned door. Walking into the kitchen, he washed his hands and face with warm, soapy water, then dried them with a towel. He walked into the great hall, a low fire burning out slowly in the massive, stone fireplace, dimly lighting the massive room and all the inventions and prototypes it stored. His footsteps on the hard flagstones echoed through the hall. After locking the front door, he at last turned into bed, quickly drifting off to sleep the moment he shut his eyes...
The old manor sat dark and quiet on the hill, the light autumn rain pattering on its shingled roof.
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Chapter 1: Returns and Reunions
The sun shone down from a clear blue sky as the chill, November wind whistled through the treetops. A lone bus meandered along one of the Pacific Northwest’s many scenic highways, winding through the tall hills and majestic pine forests of central Oregon. The ‘Redwood Highway’ as it was called connected Roadkill County with the rest of society, and during the summer, campers and tourists flocked to this quiet, secluded part of the state, and to its only ‘city’... a sleepy logging town called Gravity Falls.
Crossing a bridge, the bus hit a bump in the pavement, jostling it side to side.
‘THUMP.’ Dipper’s head slipped from the hard headrest, hitting the cool, glass window with a thud. Waking with a start, he sat up. His neck ached from leaning awkwardly against the headrest, and his mind was foggy from the long but shallow sleep. As they crested a hill, bright sunlight flickered through the window. Dipper shielded his eyes with his hand, looking out at the passing landscape. A familiar sight, the imposing canyon walls and narrow pass into the valley, stood only a few miles off.
Dipper had wanted to be awake for the drive into the valley. As silly as it might have been, he wanted to take in the scenery; to see how things have changed in the few months he’d been gone... to relive for a brief second the memories of the past summer. He looked at his shoulder, Mable’s head rested on his arm, her face obscured by her sweatshirt’s hood as well as the mass of flowing, brown hair that fell down her shoulder.
Dipper poked her softly on the nose. “Hey sis, we’re here...” She stirred, sitting up. Sleepily, she brushed the hair from her nose and face. “Not a lot has changed since last time... The leaves have changed colors, though.” Dipper nodded toward the window.
Mable wiped the sleep from her eyes as she stared out at the passing forest. “It’s so pretty! All the colors, the reds and golds...” She reached into the front pocket of her hoodie, retrieving her phone. Flipping it open, she took a photo, then stuffed it back into her pocket. “Another one for the scrapbook... Oooh! I can't wait to see everyone!” She squealed, shaking his arm.
Dipper leaned back into the old, worn seat, watching the trees pass and the canyon wall draw nearer. As they entered the pass, he craned his neck to see the train trestle that spanned the gap hundreds of feet above them. Driving further into the valley, they passed an old wooden sign that pointed down a rough dirt road. To most, it would seem insignificant, but to him and his sister, the old A-frame that was tucked back into the forest was their home away from home. After another five minutes of driving, they crested another hill. Gravity Falls sat another mile off.
“Start grabbing your stuff, we're almost there.” Dipper said, as he started to repack his backpack. Packing his MP3 player, headphones, comics, and some magazines, he zipped the main compartment before slipping a blue leather journal into the front pocket of his bag.
Just as they finished repacking their things, the bus turned onto main street. The road was lined, as usual, with brightly colored storefronts and quaint businesses. Slowing to a stop, the bus settled in front of a newly-built bus stop. The brakes hissed as the doors swung open.
“Gravity Falls! This stop Gravity Falls! All passengers for this stop disembark now!” The driver announced over the intercom. His voice sounded tired, and from the number of empty coffee cups in the small trash bin next to his seat, he was ready for his shift to end.
As the few passengers disembarked, Dipper and Mable stepped off the bus onto the curb. Spreading her arms wide, Mable took a deep breath, holding it for a second before exhaling.
“We’re home!” She exclaimed with a smile. She stretched her arms above her head, shaking out all the stiffness from the long bus ride.
Dipper surveyed the town; the absence of the summer’s bustle of campers and hippies left it a little quieter than he remembered, but it was still the same Gravity Falls they’d left. Dipper shouldered his bag, breathing in the crisp air. “Yeah, I couldn't agree more, it’s good to be back.” The atmosphere felt... natural, as if they had never left. “Kinda feels like a dream, ya know.” He looked over at his sister.
“Yeah, I didn’t think we’d be back so soon.” Mable said, reaching down and digging into her suitcase. “Can't wait to surprise Candy and Grenda. They’re going to freak out when they see me!” She tapped her foot on the pavement excitedly.
“Hold up... Who did you tell that we were coming?”
“Other than Soos, no one. He promised to keep it a secret, so it’s going to be a surprise!”
“What? You didn’t tell any...”
He was cut off by the sound of a car horn honking. Dipper and Mable looked in the direction of the noise, spotting Soos’s truck in a nearby parking lot. Soon the truck pulled up, and before they knew what happened, Soos had put the vehicle in park, jumping out and hugging them both.
“I missed you two dudes... The Shack’s been a little empty without yall!” Soos stepped back, lifting Mable’s luggage into the truck bed. “Jump in, let's get this welcome-home-party started!” Slamming the door shut, Soos, Mable, and Dipper sat side by side on the front bench seat. Shifting the truck into drive, Soos sped out of town, radio blaring as they returned down the Redwood Highway. Reaching the dirt road, the truck veered off, arriving at the Mystery Shack soon after.
Stepping out of the truck, the twins immediately noticed the changes Soos had made. The Shack still had all of its original, weathered charm, to be sure. But with a new coat of varnish covering its hewn frame, the deck repaired and repainted, and a new sign welcoming visitors to “The Plethora of Mysteries” that waited inside, the changes Soos had made were a massive improvement.
“Wow Soos, I love what you’ve done with the place!” Mable said, stepping forward.
“If ya think the outside looks good, wait till you see the inside.” Soos rushed past, opening the door for the twins while carrying Mable’s luggage inside.
The gift shop hadn’t changed much, rows of merchandise and souvenirs lined the shelves on the walls. Other than the new polish on the wooden floor and a fresh coat of sky-blue paint on the walls, it still felt lived in, ‘worn’. Dipper smiled.
“Good to be back.” Mable said, setting her duffle next to the door. “Did you repaint the walls?”
“Nope, that was Melody’s idea, she said the color was ‘inviting’...” Soos set down Mable’s suitcase, then leaned against the cash register, sighing. “Got to respect it, she sure has an eye for those kinds of things!” He smiled. “Hey Dipper, remember that long list of cool stuff you left with me?”
“Yeah, all the ideas for attractions for the Shack...”
“Well,” Soos lowered his voice into a faux salesman’s tone. “If you fine people would step this way...” He walked over, pulling back the curtain that led to the museum.
“No way... There’s no way you...” Dipper tried to speak, not believing what he knew Soos meant.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the new and improved Shack of Mystery!” Soos said grandiosely, waving his hand in the direction of multiple new cases and displays. “What do you dudes think?”
Dipper and Mable ran up to the first display. It was a large, walk-around glass case, reminiscent of a fish tank, which sat in the middle of the room. Instead of being filled with water, a miniature ecosystem sat inside; complete with hills, valleys, forests, and streams dotting the landscape. A doe not even an inch tall stood next to the glass, staring back at them before scampering away back to the tree line. The next exhibit contained an intact baby dinosaur, encased in amber. Tufts of fur, jagged claws, feathers, arrowheads, pictures of cave paintings, luminous floating rocks, sentient plants, photographs, and charts lined the cases and walls, each linked to some sort of cryptid or mystery found in the valley.
“I can't believe it!” Dipper said, turning around. “Soos, this is incredible! This must of taken days... weeks to find and put together.”
“Yeah, Wendy and I’ve been pretty busy since yall left.” Soos let out a chuckle. “A bunch of this came from the stuff you found, and ‘Portal Pine’s’ collection... He said it was too much to keep on the ship and in the apartment in town.”
“You hung up my painting!” Mable squealed with delight, looking at a ‘portrait’ she had painted. It was of her sitting in Stan’s chair, with Waddles sitting in her lap. Dipper walked over to take a look but stopped at a particular case.
“My hat?” Dipper looked into the case, confused. There was his brown hat, the one he lost at the beginning of the summer. It sat surrounded by newspaper clippings, photos, and a disposable camera. A bronze plaque beneath it caught his eye, etched deep with a familiar symbol, a pine tree.
‘MASON ‘DIPPER’ PINES, Adventurer who discovered many of the relics and anomalies in this collection. A visitor to Gravity Falls, he left his mark on the town, and will be missed. Plaque donated by: A Friend.’
Soos walked up behind him. “What do ya think, dude?”
Dipper chuckled, “It’s kinda much... as if I’d died or something!” He laughed.
“Well, it wasn’t my idea... Wendy and I found your hat in the forest while looking for one of those abandoned ‘gnome huts’, and Lazy Susan thought it’d be a good idea to add it to the collection. A lot of people pitched in...” He stepped forward, tapping the bronze plaque. “The plaque came in the mail. Some anonymous person had it built custom in Portland!”
“No one knows who had the plaque made?”
“Nope. It’s a secret, I guess.”
“A mystery.” He said with a laugh.
“Mr. Pines and his bro got their own display as well.” Soos motioned towards another case. All three of them stood in front of the glass, looking at the mementos that sat there.
“Soos!” Abuelita called from the kitchen. She walked into the museum, carrying a plate of snickerdoodle cookies. “Why didn’t you tell me you three got back... We’re so glad to have you two back with us! Here, have a cookie.” She said, holding the plate out.
Dipper, Mable, and Soos each took one. “These are amazing!” Mable said, her sweet tooth satisfied.
“They’re my favorite!” Soos said between bites. “You always make the best cookies, Gran.”
“Made by hand... It puts heart in them.” Abuelita said with pride. “Why don’t you three come into the kitchen, there’s more cookies, and milk to go with them.”
“Yes please!” Mable exclaimed.
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The afternoon sky slowly turned to dusk as a familiar-looking jalopy pulled behind the Shack. The doors opened as the Pines Brothers stepped out, stretching after their long drive.
“Told ya we’d make it here in under three hours.” Stan exclaimed, slamming the driver's side door shut.
“It would of taken three hours if you would have drove the speed limit...” Ford said as he walked around the front of the car. He shivered; a biting wind whistled through the forest as clouds moved overhead. He buttoned his coat, pulling the collar close to his neck.
Stan stuffed his hands in his sweater pockets. The navy-blue pullover was made to keep him warm from harsh, ocean winds; and the small anchor patch sewn above the heart was stitched with love and care. He turned his back to the relentless wind. “Where's the fun in that, Pointdexter?”
Stepping onto the porch, they knocked on the old, oak door. The sound echoed through the shack, followed by yelling that could be heard coming from deep within. The door flew open, Mable running out, hugging Stan. She buried her face into his chest.
“Grunkle Stan! I missed you so much...” Mable said, a single tear rolling down her smiling face.
Stan laughed heartily. “I missed you too, Pumpkin.” He stepped back, reaching into his pocket. “While we were running around Russia, I found something you’d like.” He pulled out a colorfully wrapped item. “It's called, uh...” He turned to Ford, who was talking excitedly with Dipper. “Hey Sixer, what this candy called?”
“It’s a Smokva.”
“Right...” He handed it to Mable. “Its a fruit-flavored candy, kinda rare now in days.”
Taking a bite out of it, Mable smiled. “Thanks Grunkle Stan.”
“And I found this knickknack while Ford spent a day mulling around a library.” He pulled out a colorful ‘nesting doll’, painted in vibrant pinks, reds, greens, and golds.”
Mable’s artistic side kicked in as she held the delicately carved wooden doll. “Grunkle Stan... thanks.” She said, hugging him again. He smiled.
She stepped back. “Did the sweater keep you warm?” She nodded toward the one he was wearing.
“Sure did, kiddo.” He started to tell her about the adventure and danger of the ‘High Seas’, and their trip to the arctic circle. After promising to tell her more later, he stepped forward, shaking Soos’s hand. “How’s the new ‘Man of Mystery’ doing? The Shacks looking good.”
Soos chuckled. “Thanks, Mr. Pines. We’ve done some work on the outside, but the real improvements are all in there.” Soos motioned toward the door.
Dipper and Ford joined the conversation, Ford promising to tell him more about their trip later. “Yeah, Grunkle Stan and Ford, you won’t believe the changes until you see them.”
“Well, you heard the kid, four tickets to the Mystery Shack, please.” Ford dug in his satchel, handing Soos a handful of cash.
“But Mr. Pines and bro, I can't make yall pay... Your family!”
“Shut up and take the cash... A real ‘Man of Mystery’ never says no to cash money!” Stan joked.
“Now are you going to let us see these amazing new ‘mysteries?” Ford quipped.
Soos’s face beamed with pride. “Ladies and Gentleman, step inside and we will begin your tour of the Mystery Shack!”
The two sets of twins laughed as they followed Soos inside.
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“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for dinner?”
Once again, they were standing on the Mystery Shack’s front porch. Abuelita insisted that they weren’t intruding and that she could fix them a quick dinner after their long trip. But Ford politely declined, insisting that they didn’t want her to go through all that trouble.
“Besides, we can’t intrude on your hospitality. Two dinners in a week... ya know, with yall already inviting us over for Thanksgiving dinner next Thursday.” Stan said, smiling. “Don’t worry about us, we’ll just get something quick to eat before getting back to the apartment.”
“Ok.” Abuelita said, understanding their thoughtfulness as well as the lack of sleep both sets of twins were showing. “Adiós por ahora, till next time.” She said, giving both the kids a hug.
Stan could never convey just how grateful he was for her hospitality. She had let them stay with her during a rough time last summer, and although it was only for a few days, it had meant the world to him. It was rare for anyone to have his back, and now, surrounded by his friends and family, he finally belonged. “Hasta más tarde.” He replied, digging up some of the rudimentary Spanish he had learned during his time in Central America.
Abuelita smiled at the salutation, and with a few more hugs and handshakes, the Pines climbed into their car. Turning the key, the engine revved to life, and soon the jalopy lumbered out of the parking lot and down the dirt road. Turning onto the darkened highway, they sped toward town.
“Ok kids,” Stan said, glancing over his shoulder at them before fixing his eyes on the road again. “You two pick where to eat, do yall want Hermano’s Brothers, or Greasy’s Diner.”
“I’m up for Greasy’s,” Dipper voted, “It’s been a while since I’ve had one of their milkshakes...”
“Yeah, lets go see Lazy Susan... I bet she’ll be surprised were back!” Mable said excitedly.
Ford looked over at his brother. “Ya know, after being out of the States for a while, I’m craving a good burger.”
Stan laughed. “Ok, ok. But we’ll go to Hermano’s Brothers tomorrow night.” He said, slowing the car down as they approached the diner. The place was packed, the parking lot filled and overflowing with cars, trucks, minivans, and a few semi-trucks. Finding a spot in the make-shift lot across the street, the Pines entered the diner.
Mable rushed forward. “Look, our spot is empty!” She said as she ran ahead and slid into her favorite booth. Dipper sat next to her, while the Grunkles sat across from them, facing the door.
Stan let out a groan, leaning back into the booth’s cushioned backrest as he relaxed. “Russian food is good and all, but ya can't beat good ‘ol American cooking!”
The Grunkles scanned their menus as Mable grabbed the pack of complementary crayons and a kid’s menu, coloring in the trees and animals with the skill and eye of an artist. Tired, Dipper leaned his head back, closing his eyes for a moment. He knew what he wanted; a burger, some fries, a milkshake... and a good night's sleep.
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“Order fifty-one: one burger, one grilled chicken sandwich, a large fry, and two milkshakes!” The cook-boy yelled from the kitchen, flipping patties on the griddle as he multi-tasked, making a mental list of what needed to be cooked next.
Pacifica stood at the order window, carefully grabbing the tray as she added the milkshakes she had just blended. The Diner was packed tonight... It was probably the busiest night she had seen in the two months she had worked here. She carefully weaved her way through the sea of truckers, locals, and families milling about. Finding the correct table, she politely gave them their order, then quickly jogged back behind the soda bar, checking her tabs for what to make next. She had known that the changes in her life were going to bring a little ‘culture shock’, but she didn’t expect this...
But what was she supposed to do? She wanted freedom, even if it meant going against her family's haughtiness and arrogance; even if it meant losing all the luxuries she had grown up with. After her father had stabilized the family fortune, once again the sun was shining on the fortunes of Preston Northwest, and once again he tried tempting her with his wealth and promises. She could return to the prestigious boarding school she had studied at instead of the ‘bumpkin’ public school in town, she would once again have access to the family fortune, credit cards, a personal chauffeur, travel abroad, parties, balls, gallas... All if she would once again conform to her father’s demands, his philosophy and lifestyle.
But she couldn't... She couldn't be that ice-cold, superior person, not anymore. Her friends, not the carefully picked and groomed confidants her father picked for her, but her real friends had shown her what kindness was... and it had changed her.
Her father saw the new life she lived as a punishment to her. The hick school she now attended, the bike she now rode around in place of the limousine she once had, the paycheck she now worked for instead of the limitless wealth she had enjoyed, they were meant to degrade her. But deep down, Pacifica knew something her father couldn't possibly have expected. She was proud of it. The dainty quartz earrings she bought with her first paycheck, the new people she met at class, the old but well-kept bike she rode to school daily... she was proud of it all. And the hours she worked after school were in many ways an escape from the mansion’s oppressive atmosphere.
A trucker seated at the counter asked for another cup of coffee. Pacifica turned, grabbing a pot of steaming, jet-black coffee, and pouring it into his mug. When she asked if he wanted cream and sugar, he shook his head, saying that he had a long drive ahead of him. Another customer wanted a refill of their drink; she filled the cup as Lazy Susan stood beside her, prepping another order to be ran out.
“Dearie,” Susan called to Pacifica as she walked over to the end of the counter, “Some customers just sat down at booth six, get them after you run this out.” She returned with another tray filled with plates full of food. Pacifica carefully took the tray. She wasn’t a plate-balancing wonder like Susan or Leon, the cook-boy. Not yet anyways.
Pacifica nodded. Of all the people in town, Lazy Susan had been the most supportive of her new ‘life’, giving her a job, putting up with her shortcomings, and always giving her a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on. Most of the town still didn’t quite know how to take her, and Susan’s smile and warm words made her feel... wanted. She again threaded her way through the busy room, giving the table their order before straightening her hair and smoothing the wrinkles out of her light pink skirt and white apron. She still believed that first impressions were everything, even when taking a customer’s order... Old habits die hard.
She approached the table, looking down at her apron as she took out her pen and notepad. Looking up, she spotted two familiar faces over the top of the booth.
“The Pines brothers?” She whispered to herself, surprised. She stopped, hesitating slightly. ‘If they’re here, maybe Dipper and Mable are too...’ She thought, suddenly fixing her appearance even more. ‘Stop being silly Pacifica, of course they’re not here! They’re enjoying Thanksgiving with their parents... they have a good family.’ She told herself. ‘Maybe I could ask them if Dipper’s coming back anytime soon, it’s a possibility, right? STOP, stop being silly. Go take their order, and don’t bother them. They’re probably working, they're tired... And no one can know how you feel about...’
She stopped, not letting herself complete that thought. He was a friend, nothing more... Taking a deep breath, she strode forward to the table, pen in hand, ready to take their order.
The moment she locked eyes with Dipper, she gasped; the pen in her hand dropping to the floor. Immediately, she hid her shock, steadying herself. This was not how she envisioned their reunion would go; an awkward hello at her new job...
“Pacifica! What's up? Surprised we’re back?” Mable asked excitedly. It felt as if Mable was truly excited to see her.
Pacifica tried not to blush, fumbling for another pen tucked in her apron’s pocket. She had to end this, quickly...
The look on Dipper’s face was a mixture of shock and amusement. “Uh... Hey Pacifica, wasn’t expecting to see you here... How are you?”
She smiled, hoping the red in her cheeks wasn’t too obvious. “I’m doing well.” She replied.
“Her majesty’s got a job!” Stan joked, smiling. “Hey Sixer, remember our first job, that one summer?”
Ford laughed. “Yeah, scraping all those barnacles of old man Finson’s boat... then repainting it! At least he paid us... Remember how sunburnt you got?
“Yeah, and mom put that terrible-smelling, whack-job ointment on my back!” The two brothers laughed, Dipper and Mable joining in at the ridiculous mental image Stan had painted for them.
Pacifica felt a little awkward, standing there and being a part of their conversation... ‘Just get their orders, go back, and get out of sight... you're looking awkward standing here... you're taking too long... your intruding on them... MOVE!’ Her brain screamed. She flipped open the notebook, clicking the pen open. “What can I get for you four?”
The silence hung thick in the air, until Mable broke it, giggling. “I’ll get the chicken strips, with fries.”
“I’ll have... one of the ‘bison’ burgers, with a side of sweet-potato fries... And a coffee.” Ford ordered.
“I’ll take a chicken fried steak, make sure they put enough gravy on it... and I’ll take a baked potato.” Stan said, scanning the menu.
“Ok,” Pacifica said, looking down at her notebook as she wrote down their orders. She hadn't fully learned the shorthand Lazy Susan had shown her, but she was starting to get the hang of it. She looked up, waiting impatiently for Dipper to order. “What will you be getting?”
“Huh?” Dipper asked, breaking out of his trance, “Oh, right. I’ll get a burger, with a side of fries.” He smiled, folding the menu and setting it down.
Pacifica stuffed the notebook and pen back into her apron. “Ok, I’ll have your orders out in a bit.” She said in a quick, polite tone that masked her nervousness and stress. Turning away, she walked quickly back to the counter before ducking into the kitchen. She leaned against the ice machine, taking a deep breath. That was nothing how she had pictured seeing Dipper... and his sister, of course... again. Out in town, or at a party, or in the park, or at the lake... sometime next summer. That was how she thought it would go. But of course, she had the luck of running into them on the busiest night of her new job, tired, and frazzled.
“What a good first impression...” She whispered sarcastically.
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“So Grunkle Ford, did yall find anything?” Dipper asked before taking another bite of his hamburger. Soon after they had ordered, Lazy Susan appeared at their table with a tray full of dishes. Short on time, she quickly said hello as she passed each of them their meal. Dipper had hoped that Pacifica would swing by their table again, but she remained behind the counter and on the far side of the diner, as if trying to stay out of sight. Over dinner, Dipper and Mable had convinced Ford and Stan to share more about their trip to the arctic.
“Yeah, did yall finally track down that signal?” Mable asked, snatching up another French fry.
Ford took another sip of his coffee before continuing the tale. “We sure did, two-hundred miles northwest of Point Hope. We were cruising along around midnight when we found the source, an autonomous sailing drone... And this was a large one, around eighty feet long!” Ford took another bite, then continued. “It had a small helipad, living quarters, and an extensive array of sensors.”
“Who’s was it?” Dipper asked, finishing his hamburger.
“You want to tell ‘em, Stanley?” Ford looked over at his brother.
“No, you got it Sixer... You're better at explaining most of this stuff. I’ll just insert the details ya forget.” Stan said as he cut another piece of his chicken fried steak.
Ford leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Well kids, it turns out we weren't the only ones interested in that undersea anomaly... The sail-drone belonged to ROSCOSMOS, the Russian space agency... And it was running search patterns over the same area we were a few weeks earlier.”
“You think they’re also trying to figure out what caused that pulse last August?” Dipper leaned forward as well, propping his elbows on the table.
Ford nodded “We had our theories on why they sent a drone to scan the area, but we needed data to be sure...” Ford looked over his shoulder, making sure no one else was ease dropping. “So we decided to get more evidence... by boarding the drone and taking a look around.”
“Yall what?” Dipper and Mable exclaimed, shocked. Dipper leaned forward, whispering. “Isn't that kinda... Illegal?”
“And really dangerous?” Mable added.
Grunkle Stan laughed. “There weren't any cameras or people on the drone, and we did it in a ‘neighborly’ sort of way... Just checking to see if anybody needed help, right Ford?” He nudged Ford with his elbow, chuckling.
“Yeah, and what we found gave us a few clues on what they were looking for...” Ford shifted in his seat. “Mainly, their sensors weren't looking for undersea seismic activity, so they don’t think it was an earthquake.”
“What were they looking for?” Dipper asked, taking a sip of his water.
Ford paused. “Radiation. Their sensors were looking for any sources of radiation coming from the ocean floor...” Again, he looked over his shoulder. “There's only one reason they’d be looking for that and trying to keep it secret.”
The kids looked at each other, puzzled.
“We think they lost a nuclear submarine, somewhere at the bottom of the Chukchi Sea, and they haven't told anyone.” Stan whispered. “Yall know how secretive the Russian government is about those types of things.”
“But that leaves us at another question, was it on a military or scientific mission? And if it was a scientific venture, what were they looking for at the bottom of the Chukchi Sea?” Ford stopped, looking down into his mug as he concentrated. But he soon looked back up at the kids. “But enough about our ‘old man’ adventures, how’s school been treating you two?”
Mable laughed, immediately going into a long string of school gossip and misadventures. The entire school band had caught the flu, their football team’s quarterback had to sit the first few games out with an injury, and a flurry of other news.
Dipper finished the last fry on his plate, then leaned back, taking a sip of his water. Sitting up, he looked over his shoulder at the front counter. Pacifica stood there, pouring two cups of coffee for a young couple. For a split second, she looked in his direction, then quickly turned away, refilling another customer's drink. Seeing her had answered the question that had been on his mind for the past two months. Without a doubt, he still had a crush on her... But she remained distant, so for now he’d shut out those feelings, and focus on being a good friend. ‘Thats what she needs right now, a friend.’ He told himself.
He had thought seeing her on this trip was going to be a little harder, possibly involving a visit to the ‘new’ Northwest Manor, and a run in with Preston Northwest. A shiver went down his spine... He didn’t fear that snotty, vain millionaire. In fact, Dipper dreamed of one day giving him a black eye as payment for the way he treated his daughter. But Dipper knew that asking him to see his daughter could possibly lead to her getting punished, and him being told to never return, and that’s what had scared him the most.
But of all the luck in the world, he accidentally ran into her on his first night in town! Now he had a way of meeting her away from the manor... So what was wrong?
Dipper sank back down into the booth’s cushions, thinking hard as he tried to figure out what caused her to act distant. ‘Why does it seem like every time we make progress, she turns cold again?’ He thought, resting his chin on his hand. Were they going to have to start back at square one?
‘Did I do something wrong? What's making her feel that way?” He analyzed the moment again in his mind’s eye. ‘Maybe she just needs some cheering up!’ He thought, quickly taking another peek at the counter. He had forgotten to order his milkshake earlier...
‘Maybe a milkshake could solve this...’ Dipper sat up straight, sliding out of the booth.
“Where ya going, Bro-bro?” Mable asked between bites.
“I'm going to the counter to get a milkshake... You want anything? Lazy Susan has a few pieces of key-lime pie left in the pie case...” Dipper asked Mable as he motioned to the glass-paned display.
“I’m full Dipper,” Mable said with a laugh, patting her stomach, “But thanks for asking.”
Ford reached for his wallet. “How much do you need for...”
“Don't worry Grunkle Ford, I’m paying for the milkshake.” Dipper pulled out his wallet, gripping it in his hand.
“Oh! I almost forgot to tell yall! Dipper’s got a job now, mowing lawns and raking leaves back in Piedmont... He’s pretty proud of it, by the way...” Mable giggled, teasing him slightly.
Stan smiled, “So you’re a working man now? Congratulations Dip! Go enjoy yourself.”
----------------------------------------
Pacifica hurriedly filled another drink at the soda fountain, trying to complete an overdue to-go order. Although she had her back turned to the counter, she still heard the telltale sound of a customer sitting down on one of the old, vinyl-upholstered stools. Since she had been young, her mother had taught her the importance of picking up on cues, the tiny details others missed. They were, as her mother always said, “The little things that got you ahead of everyone else.” Body language, slight facial mannerisms, sounds... she had an uncanny ability to sense the movement and attitude of others around her, to a certain degree. That ability had helped her navigate the intrigues of high-society life, and now it continued to help her, to sense when someone needed a refill, or when a new customer sat down. She finished filling the last drink, pushing the plastic lid on firmly as she set it on a tray along with the rest of the order.
“Order sixty-two ready!” She called out to Susan, then breathed a sigh of relief. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with her sleeve, pulling out her notepad and pen as she prepared to help the customer she had heard sitting down.
She turned around, looking down as she flipped open the notebook in her hand “What can I get for...” She stopped suddenly, once again staring into Dipper’s brown eyes. For a long second, they both stared at each other, silent. She felt a bead of sweat roll down her temple and blushing cheek. Everything inside her was screaming for her to smile, say she had work to do in the kitchen, and have Lazy Susan take his order... But why? It wasn’t like she didn’t want to see him. Ever since he’d left, she had missed the one real friend she had made over the summer... Or at least that’s what she told herself. She had missed him like crazy and had been daydreaming about their reunion since then. So why was she trying to avoid him now?
‘What if he doesn’t like the new, ‘normal’ me? No money, no glamour, no fortune... Just me?’ That irrational fear had plagued her since her childhood, an inadequacy her father had drilled into her. Without her family’s fortune, she was nothing...
“I, uh... forgot to order my milkshake back at the table... I was a little distracted.” Dipper said with a chuckle.
His warm smile soon melted away her fears and hesitation. ‘You don’t have to worry about ‘impressions’ with Dipper. He’s a real friend; he likes you for who you really are... He believed in you when no one else did. Just be yourself.’ Pacifica reassured herself. She smiled, relaxing for the first time during this hectic night.
“What flavor do you want?” She asked him as she turned around, sliding open the ice cream cooler. “We’ve got vanilla, chocolate, cookies and cream, strawberry, peach, and a Pitt-inspired one.” She looked back at him over her shoulder. She was exhausted, Dipper could easily tell that. She had been working hard for the last few hours... She needed a rest.
“I’ll take two larges, one cookies and cream and one strawberry.” He rested his elbows on the cold, laminate countertop, watching as Pacifica quickly and skillfully mixed and blended both shakes. Pouring both into tall, retro-looking glasses, she topped each with whipped cream, a cherry, and a red and white striped straw.
“Here’s your shakes...” She set both in front of Dipper, “...And that's a lot of calories for one person, by the way.” She joked, giving him a playful wink.
“They’re not both for me... I’m not that hungry!” Dipper said with a laugh. “The strawberry shake’s for you... You look like you could use a break.” He slid the tall glass back across the counter, the straw pointing towards her.
She felt her heart beat faster.
Dipper was back in Gravity Falls...
Sitting across the counter...
Buying her a shake? This night was too good to be real. She felt as if she was going to wake up at any moment, staring up at the cream-colored canopy above her bed. She discreetly pinched herself, the pain confirming that she wasn’t dreaming. She felt a warmth in her chest... One she hadn’t felt in some time.
Pacifica turned away, pretending to straighten a stack of cups. For the past months, she’d refused to let herself see Dipper as anything more than just a good friend. The last thing she wanted was to let her feelings ruin a perfectly good relationship. ‘Could there be a chance, as slight as it was, that he felt the same way?’
Those thoughts were dashed by the memory of Mable sharing her brother’s big secret during her unexpected stay at the Mystery Shack. ‘He’s had a crush on Wendy Cordery since he first met her...’ Mable had told her after Pacifica had found a photo of Wendy on the floor under Dipper’s bed. Pacifica took a deep breath, making up her mind. ‘No, he likes someone else... It's better this way.’
As much as she wanted to accept his offer, she couldn't take a break... Not when Susan needed her. “Sorry Dipper, but I’ve got work to do... We’ve been overflowing with customers all night, and I’d feel guilty if I left Susan to keep up by herself.”
Dipper sat up, looking back into the kitchen through the order window. “Miss Susan!” He called.
“Don’t call her up here! She’s probably busy...” Pacifica stepped toward the window.
The two-way door to the kitchen flung open as Susan carried out a tray full of food. “Dipper! That was you who called, wasn’t it? What do you need, Dearie?”
“Do you mind if Pacifica takes a quick break... I promise, it will only be for a few minutes.” Dipper asked, crossing his fingers under the counter.
“Pacifica! I’ve been telling you to take a break for the last hour, you’ve been working yourself to the bone!” Susan set the tray down, then stepped toward Pacifica, confiscating her notepad and pen. “Now take that apron off, talk to your friend and take a break, that’s an order.” She winked with her good eye.
“But Susan, there's more customers coming in, and...”
“No buts, young lady. I’ve been running this diner for fifteen years... Longer than you’ve been alive! I think I can handle a few minutes without your help. Now shooo...” She mock-swatted at Pacifica with her hand, forcing her to get out from behind the counter.
Pacifica took off her white apron, hanging it on a hook at the end of the counter, then sat down on the barstool next to Dipper.
He reached across the counter, grabbing her milkshake and placing it in front of her. “Drink up, before it melts...”
“Thanks.” She said, leaning over the shake as she placed the straw to her lips. She drank a few sips before speaking again. “I needed a break; things have been crazy all night.” She rested her cheek against her hand, taking another sip.
“Well, that’s what friend’s are for...” Dipper said with a laugh.
Suddenly she turned toward him. “Wait a second...” She stared at him, searchingly, “...How did you know to order me a strawberry shake? I don’t remember telling you that it’s my favorite.”
“A lucky guess?” Dipper took a sip of his shake, then looked back at her. “Don’t ask me why, but I always saw you as a strawberry-shake type of person.”
Pacifica giggled. “Really?” She looked at him, incredulous. “And what does that mean, Mr. Perceptive?”
“Don't really know... I guess it means you like things that are unique, special.” He took another sip. “So, how’s things been in the Falls? Are you liking school here more than that boarding school back in Portland?”
Pacifica sat up straight, rolling her aching shoulders as she tried to relax. “Surprisingly, yeah. The kids here in Gravity Fall treat me odd... like they don’t know how to take me. But that’s way better than the snobby, stuck-up jerks back at boarding school. It hasn’t been that bad.” She leaned back into the stool’s backrest. “How about you, how’s life been back in Piedmont?”
“Normal.” Dipper laughed. Pacifica looked at him, clearly wanting him to explain. “Seriously, Pacifica, it’s been extremely boring compared to the crazy stuff that happens here every day... Of course, Mable and I have kept the whole ‘we almost died and the world almost ended’ story a secret, or my parents would have never let us stay with our Grunkle’s again.” Dipper picked the cherry off the top of his milkshake, biting it off the stem. “Mable and I are working on a science project together, she made a bunch of new friends in school... Ya know, the usual stuff.” Dipper paused before asking the main question he had on his mind. “So, you work here now?”
Pacifica nodded “Yeah... I applied for the job right after you left.” She looked over at Dipper, figuring that now was her turn to explain. “After Weirdmageddon, Dad lost a lot of the family fortune... Not all of it, but enough to scare him. He did a bunch of ‘business stuff’, shuffling around stocks and stopping any ‘unnecessary’ spending. So when he cut off my credit, I decided to get a job.” She smiled. “The change can sometimes be overwhelming, but it feels good to be... normal.” Pacifica looked over at Susan, who was taking an order at the far end of the diner. “I think Wendy was the one who mentioned that Susan was looking for a new waitress after the last one moved away. Wendy and Soos wrote my referrals.”
“You’ve been hanging out with Wendy?” Dipper asked, surprised.
Pacifica laughed. “Not really, I just happened to be near the Mystery Shack, so I swung by.” Pacifica said, careful to make it sound like a one-time thing, and not that she had been visiting it every few weeks since he’d left. “I almost didn’t get the job, age restrictions and stuff. But with my family’s influence and a few loopholes, Susan was able to hire me.” Pacifica’s expression became troubled. “I had thought that dad was going to be against it, but he actually liked the idea... He sees it as some sort of sick punishment.” She suddenly grew quiet.
Dipper stiffened, the smile on his face fading. He sat silent for a moment, trying to find the right words for what he was about to ask. “Pacifica, uh, is your dad acting ‘violently’ again?” He asked her quietly.
She immediately looked at him suspiciously. She hadn't told him about her dad’s abusive side... The only person she had ever told was Grunkle Stan, and that was after he half dragged it out of her. She didn’t know if she should be upset, or angry, or... She hadn't wanted Dipper to worry about her.
“How... How do you... Did Mr. Pines tell you about...” She started to ask.
“No, Grunkle Stan didn’t tell me... I figured it out on my own.” Dipper said, staring down at his shake. “Because if he is, then...”
“No.” Pacifica interrupted him. “He hasn’t hurt me... Not since Mr. Pines had that talk with him. Do you know what he said?”
“Nope, Grunkle Stan hasn’t told me anything about that day...” Dipper said, the memories from the previous summer still fresh in his mind. “But knowing him, he probably threatened to break his kneecaps or something.”
Pacifica continued to stare down at the countertop. “My dad’s avoided me like the plague for the past few months.” She furrowed her eyebrows, lost for a moment in thought. “He... He somehow sees me as responsible for everything that’s happened; The loss of the mansion, the hatred and smear on our family’s name...”
Dipper looked over at her. “If anyone’s done anything to hurt your family, it's that psycho.” He laughed for a second, before stiffening his body, holding his pointer finger over his upper lip as a faux mustache and striking his best impression of Preston Northwest. “Thou must mingle with the ‘wretched commonfolk’ of Gravity Falls as your punishment for besmirching your family’s good name, young lady!” The corners of Pacifica’s mouth turned into a slight smile. “He sees you as responsible for the town hating him? He tried to make a deal with Bill Cypher!” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Listen to me Pacifica, you're one of the best and coolest people I know... And that’s not flattery talking, I’d tell you if I thought differently.”
“You have before...” She poked, slightly laughing.
“Yeah, I guess I did.” Dipper chuckled. “But that was before I got to really know you.” He finished his shake, setting it down on the counter. “You want to know what I see?” Dipper looked at her, the fresh stains on her immaculately kept uniform, the loose strands of hair sweeping down over her hazel eyes, the tired but sincere smile that left him feeling warm inside. “I see a hardworking, honest, beautiful girl that makes being a Northwest something to be proud of...” Dipper stopped mid-sentence, realizing he had forgotten to ‘filter’ what he said from what he thought.
The red in her cheeks told Dipper that his words hit their mark.
“And, uh, um... I'm not the only one who thinks that.” Dipper tried to take the spotlight off of his feelings. “You know what the multi-bear said? That you’re the only Northwest in as long as he can remember that is a ‘great person’... And he’s been alive for seventy years!”
The bell on the Diner’s door rang as a group of new guests entered. Lazy Susan called from the back, welcoming them to the diner. The group of older teens sat down in the first booth, next to the door.
Pacifica sipped the last of her shake. “So, how long are you and Mable staying in Gravity Falls?”
“We’re leaving next Saturday, so we’ll be here for Thanksgiving.” Dipper took out his wallet, looking at the signboard and pulling out the cash to pay for their drinks, placing them under his glass.
Pacifica sat up. “You two are here for all of Fall Break? That’s... Incredible!” She leaned closer. “You know, on Thursday night, after Thanksgiving dinner, there's a big dance at the cider brewery... It’s a town tradition, everyone goes.” She paused for a moment. “I was thinking maybe...”
“Hey Rich Kid, we need some service over here!” A harsh voice called from behind them, interrupting her. Pacifica looked over her shoulder. A group of seniors from Gravity Falls High’s football team sat in the first booth. The captain, a conceited, blonde-haired jock who at seventeen was naturally gifted with a large frame and the muscle to match, scowled at her. “Yeah, I'm talking to you NorthWorthless, get over here and take our order.” He waved a half-empty bottle of beer at her.
Dipper looked forward, clinching his fist. “You’re still on break, you don’t have to serve those morons.” He whispered.
Pacifica took a deep breath. “If I don’t, then they’re going to make trouble for Susan...”
“Cool, then she’ll kick those good-for-nothings out!” He whispered sharply.
“It’s... It’s not that simple Dipper. That’s Isaac Flanders... You know, like in Flanders Bank and Trust? His dad owns the bank.” Pacifica whispered as another hail of rude names and demands were slurred from the table. “Susan has a loan out at that bank, so this idiot comes in here like he owns it... Susan tried to talk to Mr. Flanders, but he took his son’s side, so...”
“... Then I’ll go tell him to get lost...” Dipper said, turning to stand.
“No!” Pacifica reached for him, stopping him from leaving. “He’s stubborn and drunk, Dipper... and that will only end with you getting hurt. I can handle this.” Her smile was gone, replaced with the ‘polite’ expression that masked how exhausted she really was. She stood, walking over to the end of the counter and putting back on her apron. Dipper stood, about to follow.
“Hey Dip, we’re heading to the car.” Mable said, walking past him towards the door, with Stan and Ford in tow. She said goodbye to Pacifica before exiting the diner. He nodded, then approached Pacifica, who was tying the straps of her apron behind her back.
“Well, um, I’ve got to take these orders...” She said, looking up at Dipper.
“Yeah, my sister and Grunkles are heading out, so I’ve got to go...” Dipper responded.
They both stood silent as the diner buzzed around them. ‘Should I ask him to go to the dance now?’ Pacifica thought, until another slew of rude names caused her to step past him. That perfect moment was gone, and it was time for her to get back to work. “...See you later, Dipper.” She said softly.
“Yeah... See ya around.” Dipper said, watching her walk away. He turned, and with a sigh walked out into the chill, night air.
----------------------------------------
When Dipper had heard that Stan and Ford had moved into an apartment in town, he had been skeptical. But as Stan maneuvered the car off main street and into an industrial-looking garage, his curiosity was heightened. Clearly, the massive bay had been a part of some type of business in the past. Chais and pulleys hung from the rafters, and stacks of unpacked boxes and Ford’s scientific gear were scattered around the room. A set of double doors stood at the back of the room, and a flight of metal stairs led up to a deck on the second floor. Ford pushed a button, shutting the large garage door.
“We’re home!” Stan bellowed as he shut the car door.
“Uh... It’s really... big?” Mable said, looking around at the cold, cement block walls. “Its definitely not the Mystery Shack...”
“Wait till you see the upstairs.” Ford said, pulling Mable’s luggage out of the trunk. Dipper grabbed his duffle and backpack, and the four of them walked up the stairs. Reaching the top, Ford pulled out a set of keys, unlocking a large, oak door. He stepped inside.
“Well, what do you two think?” Ford moved out of the way as Dipper and Mable walked into the living room. The change was incredible, wood paneling and wallpaper lined the walls instead of the cold, cinder-block walls in the garage. Two large bookcases, full of old texts, tomes, and folded maps stood flanking the doorway. Near the middle of the room sat a yellow-plaid couch and a large recliner, both facing a tv that hung against the left wall. A colorful, Persian rug covered a section of the hardwood floor.
Dipper smiled, trying to guess which Grunkle had picked the couch. ‘Probably both.’ He thought. Looking around, he noticed that the right side of the room opened to a small but well-stocked kitchen. A large desk with a computer and stacks of books stood against the wall, with a slightly ajar door standing next to it.
Mable walked across the living room, looking out of one of the large windows at the dark street below. The last few cars drove along main street as the town slowly went to sleep. Turning around, she walked back toward the group and threw herself onto the couch. Although the place was new to her, it felt... right.
“I love it!” She lifted her head, looking back at them. “It’s like the Shack, but newer... and with less mold!” Mable sat up.
Stan could feel Ford’s stare. ‘Geez, there wasn’t that much...’
Dipper leaned his pack against the couch, taking a seat next to his sister. “Yeah Grunkle Ford and Stan, this place is great!” Dipper leaned back into the couch’s deep cushions. “When did yall find it?”
“Right after you two left. Ford and I decided that with all the research we were about to do, we’d need a place with more storage.” Stan walked behind them, setting Mable’s suitcases inside the room next to the desk.
“And we needed a place that was a little less ‘visible’... Since Stan had advertised the Shack for so long, it was kind of impossible to start work there again.” Ford explained.
“And besides,” Grunkle Stan walked back into the living room, “It was time to pass the Mystery Shack to someone else... Soos earned it.”
“So you gave the Shack to Soos completely?” Dipper asked.
“I sold the Shack to Soos... If ya give something to someone, the government will try to tax it... greedy politicians.” Stan said with a clenched fist. “So Ford and I sold it him for one dollar, that way they can only tax him on that.” Stan smirked.
Dipper and Mable laughed. If anyone knew how to save a penny, it was Grunkle Stan.
“Enough questions for one night, it’s time we all get to bed.” Ford said, stifling a yawn. “That’s my bedroom,” He pointed towards a door to the right of the tv. “That's Stanley’s room,” He pointed towards the door to the left of the tv. “And that room is for you two.” He pointed to the door next to the desk. “Yall’s beds are already made, first door to the left is the bathroom.”
“Alright, I’m hitting the hay.” Stan said, yawning after Ford. “See you two tomorrow.”
“Goodnight Grunkle Stan.” Mable and Dipper both said as Stan slowly opened the door, worn out.
“Goodnight kids.” Stan said before shutting the door.
“And I’ll see you kids tomorrow... We’ve got a big day ahead of us.” He walked into his room. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight Grunkle Ford.”
Ford shut the door, leaving Dipper and Mable in the living room. The pair looked around, the urge to explore the new space dampened by their exhaustion. Dipper picked up his bag, walking over to their new bedroom. Inside were two twin beds, arranged just like they were in their old room. Behind the beds was a large window that opened to a view of the park below. A wooden chest of drawers, similar to what would be found on an old sailing ship, stood to the right of the beds. To the left were the bathroom and closet.
Mable sat her duffle bag on her bed before collapsing next to it. “Soooooo tired...” She mumbled.
Dipper and Mable quickly unpacked, brushed their teeth, and changed into their nightclothes. As the grandfather clock in the living room struck nine o'clock, they climbed into their beds.
Dipper closed his eyes, but there was so much he wanted to think about. ‘A Russian sub? Tremors at the bottom of the ocean?... Pacifica?’ He thought of how he last saw her, standing in the diner. But the image faded, and as hard as he tried to focus, he felt his mind drifting toward sleep.
“Goodnight Dipper.” Mable said as she turned away, pulling the blankets over her head.
“Goodnight Mable.”
The light, autumn rain pattered against the window, lulling them both to sleep.