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Things have been different since the twins got back.
Something changed over the summer. Something drew them closer than Adina thought was possible for them—just thirteen years old, but the look in their eyes when she catches them whispering in the kitchen late at night is much, much older.
She'd like to believe she's imagining things. But she sees it in the way that Mabel has matured and Dipper has gained confidence. If she's uncertain at all about the change, all of that is thrown out the window when she gets a call from school one day in the spring telling her the twins are in the office and need to be picked up after getting into a fight.
A fight. Her children. The secretary says Dipper punched someone, and Adina nearly drops her phone.
When she gets there, the two are sitting next to each other in the office. Dipper is slouching, looking out the window, while Mabel kicks her feet and chatters away. She’s wearing a new sweater—she hasn’t been making them every day like she used to, she hasn’t had the time, but Adina is glad, at least, that she is still making them. That, at least, is normal. She sighs, pushing open the door and stepping into the office.
“—and like we could probably sue the school for hate criming you anyways, so—hi mom!”
Okay, well, now she’s definitely going to ask questions. “I am very upset with both of you right now. Do you need to get anything before I sign you out?”
“Nope!” Mabel grins. There’s the beginnings of a bruise on her cheek.
Adina takes a deep breath and looks at Dipper. He looks back, quiet for a moment. “... No.”
He’s always been… the quieter twin. Not typically this much, though. He turns his head, and Adina sees bits of blood crusted beneath his nostrils. Whatever happened, they really went at it—and… she doesn’t know how to feel about that at all. Last year Dipper was too afraid to ask a girl to the school dance. Now he’s throwing punches in the cafeteria?
“Alright,” Adina says, “let’s go.”
The walk back to the car is quiet. The twins seem to realize just how much trouble they’re in, as even Mabel is quiet, now. Adina keeps catching glimpses of them looking at each other, as if silently communicating through eye contact alone.
Dipper sits in the back of the car with Mabel, rather than taking the front seat like he usually does. Adina takes another deep breath as they all get in, before turning around in her seat.
“You better have a damn good reason,” she says, “for getting yourselves suspended and making me leave work early to pick you up.”
She’s expecting guilt, or—something. Something quiet and nervous, because that’s… what they’ve always been like, when they’re in trouble. But something in their shared gaze is hardened and angry. Mabel opens her mouth.
“Why wouldn’t we have a good reason for something like this? I didn’t tackle somebody for fun, I just—”
Dipper squeezes her hand. She stops, glancing at him. Adina raises her eyebrows.
“... I—” Dipper ducks his head, avoiding eye contact as he clears his throat. “A kid was being a jerk. To me. Said some—some, uh, things. Some gross things. So I got upset and I hit him. And then he hit back, and Mabel was just trying to protect me.”
All the anger drains from Adina in an instant. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry.”
“I already told, like, everyone,” he says, sinking down a little in his seat. “Counselors said they would talk to him.”
That change is there again. That spark of anger and confidence. Last year, Dipper would’ve laid down and taken it. Mabel would’ve put up a fuss, and Adina would’ve had to reach out to the school for them both. But now…
“I’m so proud of you both,” she blurts, before she can stop herself. “For standing up for yourselves. If you need me to call the school and talk to somebody, I will. Alright? Just—no more starting fights, please. You could get into some serious trouble. If it comes down to it, resolve things peacefully.”
They both nod (even though it was mostly directed at Dipper, but Mabel includes herself in just about everything, a fact the Pines have all come to accept and delight in). Adina starts the car with a twist of her wrist. Pride wells in her chest. They may have gotten suspended for a day, but in her opinion, it was well worth it.
“Now,” she says, “how about some ice cream on the way home?”
(Their cheers, at least, are still the same.)
The evening is filled with Mabel’s colorful recount of the day’s events. Dipper helps Adina with the cooking while Robert sits at the table working on his laptop, Mabel sitting on the counter and swinging her legs as she chatters away, a half-eaten pepper in one hand.
“And then Dipper said, ‘What did you just call me?’ and was super cool and intimidating, and Ryan was totally scared, but he kept bein’ a jerk anyways, and then—”
“I punched him,” Dipper says, “in the face. Really hard.”
“Nice work, kiddo,” their father says. Adina shoots him a Look™ that makes him grin.
“And then,” Mabel continues, “he lunged at Dipper, so I tackled him to the floor, and then a crowd started forming, and some other kid got involved, and he totally punched me in the face, and—”
Dipper cuts in again. “—and then we got sent to the principal’s office? Where are you going with this?”
“I dunno,” she says, grinning, “I was gonna make somethin’ up.”
“Grunkle Stan would be proud,” Dipper muses, pushing aside the chopped-up carrots.
Ah, that’s another thing, then, isn’t it? Their Great Uncles (which is a whole other can of worms that she and Robert have talked about, how one of the twins somehow came back to life) are a common topic in the household ever since the kids got home. They video call the two twice a week, usually for hours at a time. Adina’s glad they’re close, at least—it’s better than the relationship she has with her extended family. The Pines are definitely not the most functional family, but… things seem to be getting better, at least. This is the most Robert’s heard from his uncles in years.
And it all came down to their little twins. Adina admires the amount of stubbornness it must have taken, though she’s still not exactly sure where and how Stanley came back into the picture. Or—Stanford? Mabel’s “explained” it a thousand times, but Adina still doesn’t really know what happened.
Something never adds up, when the twins talk about summer. It’s like she’s only getting half the story.
Whatever. It’s a good thing, that the family is back together. That Stanley is alright, and Stanford is alright, too. She can ignore it for now, the signs that something is off. She’ll just enjoy the weekly calls, the way the twins light up when they get to talk to their uncles. Dipper in particular talks more than usual to Stanford about… well, about science-y things, Adina never quite understands when they start chattering about math. Robert, however, loves to get himself involved, and seems to be teaching the both of them (and Mabel) how to code.
It’s a nice normal they’ve settled into.
That, plus the way Dipper and Mabel have begun disappearing from the house for hours at a time, some days. Typically without telling either parent where they’re going or what they’re doing, much to Adina’s annoyance, but… hey, at least they’re going outside. Just a few months ago she’d be hard-pressed to get either of them to go out on adventures, Mabel deep into her artwork and Dipper immersed in some book or video game. Now, though, they come back with scraped knees and a light in their eyes, and even asked her and Robert if they could visit a nearby hiking trail this weekend.
Adina will absolutely take it.
“Mom,” Dipper says, breaking her from her thoughts. She glances toward him, raising her eyebrows. Judging by his expression, he’s tried to get her attention a few times already. “... are you okay?”
“Tired, is all.” She sticks the pork chops in the oven. “It’s been a long day. What’d you need?”
Dipper doesn’t look entirely convinced. He’s far too perceptive for a thirteen year old (or maybe she’s just used to ignorant teenagers?), but she smiles and the uncertainty drains from his eyes. “Just wanted to let you know I’m done prepping the vegetables.”
“Oh! Thank you, sweetheart. Would you mind setting the table, while you’re up?”
Mabel hops down from the counter. “I’ll get the silverware, you get the plates, Dippin’ Dots.”
A look flashes between the twins, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it quick. There’s something grave and… understanding in Mabel’s eyes. Before Adina can try and figure out what that’s about, the two are already hurrying to set the table. Notably, Mabel is careful when she opens the silverware drawer, avoiding slamming it the way she usually does.
Whatever. It just means less scolding her for breaking household cabinets and appliances.
Snuffling and snorting tells Adina that Waddles has finally made it to the kitchen, likely lured in by the scent of cooking dinner. What, she wonders, are the ethics of eating pork chops in front of a pig?
Well, not for her to worry about. Mabel at least is blissfully ignorant (or maybe just doesn’t care), humming as she sets the table. Waddles begins to chew on her skirt. Adina just smiles, shaking her head with a fond little laugh. She’d been against keeping the little guy at first, but Mabel had begged her, and… well.
She isn’t the only Pines with a soft spot for animals, Adina supposes. Despite Robert’s protests, Waddles got to stay—though the cat isn’t particularly fond of the competition.
Dinner comes along quickly, the four of them gathered around the table as Robert complains about work and asks after everyone’s day. Dipper scratches at his plate with his fork, ducking his head as Mabel once again recounts their trip to the principal’s office. This time, Robert pays more attention, not half-drawn into his work.
“You two are turning into hell-raisers,” he says, a hint of pride in his voice. Mabel beams.
“I’m not sure that’s something we should encourage,” Adina reminds him, the twins giggling at her stern look.
“Hey!” Dipper perks up, looking between the two of them eagerly. “I just had an idea. Since Mabel and I can’t go into school tomorrow, what if you took the day off, too? We could go do something!”
“I think that sort of takes the punishment out of being suspended,” Adina muses, sneaking Waddles a few bites of carrot. “But I don’t hate the idea.”
Mabel slams her hands down on the table. Some of her pork chop flies off the plate and lands on the floor. "Hiking adventure!"
Dipper perks up at that. "Yeah! I miss the woods. Can we go hiking?"
Robert laughs, spearing a potato with his fork. "Y'know what, I'm just glad you want to go outside. I'm in."
Adina sighs good-naturedly, smiling to herself as she shakes her head. "Alright," she says, "hiking adventure tomorrow it is."
Mabel cheers. Dipper, grinning, glances over to where Waddles is gnawing on Mabel's dropped pork chop. "Dude." The rest of them turn to look as well. "Is that cannibalism?"
The debate lasts all through dinner and dishes. Mabel yells about Waddles being a free-spirited criminal as she rinses the forks and plates, while Dipper muses about the ethics and morality of the situation. This, Adina thinks, she wouldn't trade for the world.
Something wakes Adina up in the middle of the night.
It isn’t clear what it is, exactly, but one moment she’s deep in slumber, the next she’s wide awake. Past the sound of Robert’s familiar snore, she hears… the stairs? The creak of the second step, the careful patter of socks on wood.
Two sets of footsteps. The twins, for sure.
She sits up slowly, rubbing her eyes with one hand as she swings her legs down. Robert stirs, but doesn’t wake up, and Adina quietly leaves her room, beginning to creep down the stairs. She stops on the fourth step from the bottom, hearing hushed voices from the kitchen. She can’t quite hear what they’re saying. Carefully, she continues down the steps, skipping the creaky one and pressing against the wall as she quietly moves down the hallway.
Why she’s being so cautious, she isn’t sure. She just—she has a feeling the twins aren’t telling her or Robert something, and… she wants to know what it is.
“Nightmares again,” Dipper’s quiet voice says. There’s the sound of the fridge opening, and Adina flinches at the sudden bright wash of light spilling through the kitchen doorway down the hall.
“Which ones?” Mabel’s voice is accompanied by the clinking of glasses, or… mugs, or something like that. “Is it a talk-about-it night, or…?”
“Just—Bill, again.” Dipper lets out a wet, broken little laugh. “It’s always Bill, huh?”
Mabel is quiet. “Always Bill,” she agrees. Adina hears the microwave start, gently whirring. “Which time?”
The kitchen is eerily silent for a few long moments. The glow of the fridge vanishes, replaced by the gentle, blue nightlight. Adina feels as though she’s intruding on something far deeper than she ought to, like she attempted to dip her toes into the water, only for her foot to plunge deep into the cold, only for her to horrifically lose her balance. Something is going on here, something is hurting her kids.
Who, she thinks, is Bill?
“Puppet show,” Dipper murmurs. “But then it turned into when he almost, uh, hurt you. So, you know. I don’t think I’m going back to sleep tonight.”
Adina’s blood runs cold.
“Oh,” Mabel says, voice small. “Well, we can stay up together! I, um, was having bad dreams, too. Oh, shit, the microwave—”
There’s the stumbling sound of Mabel’s footsteps, and a singular beep as she presumably stops it before it can go off. Adina listens with bated breath as the twins rummage around the kitchen, waiting to see what else is revealed in this late night conversation.
Finally, Dipper clears his throat. “What were you dreaming about?”
A spoon clinks against the rim of some dish. “Grunkle Stan. Um. Had a dream where he never woke up, after the whole… you know.”
The chill down Adina’s spine is an awful thing. Whatever these two are talking about is real, some part of her knows. They speak of these things like they happened. Never woke up? Adina shivers. And something about Mabel almost being hurt—what happened? When did someone threaten her children? Why didn’t she know about it—why haven’t they told her?
“I just—ugh. It’s easier when we’re there. You know? It was scary but at least everyone was there,” Dipper grumbles. “I’d call Great Uncle Ford or Stan, but… probably asleep out on the ocean.”
“Maybe fighting a kraken,” Mabel says, giggling.
“Maybe,” Dipper muses. “We could call, uh, Soos? No, he’s been busy remodeling, he needs his sleep. Um. Wendy?”
“Yeah, you’d love to call Wendy, wouldn’t you?” Mabel giggles again, letting out a quiet oof as Dipper presumably punches her shoulder. “Hey, we might not have them right now, but we have each other. Right?”
The kitchen falls quiet. Adina finds herself holding her breath, for some reason she can’t quite place.
“Yeah,” Dipper says, and she can hear the faint smile in his voice. “Yeah, we do.”
She’ll ask them about it privately. Sometime tomorrow, maybe. She… she needs to sleep on it. She needs to give them space, and herself some time to process it. Maybe talk to Robert about it in the morning, see what he thinks about it all. God—what on earth happened during the summer?
Adina goes back upstairs as quietly as she crept down them.
(In the kitchen, the twins share a look. They begin to craft a lie.)
“—and then I want it to explode-inate into glitter! All over the place! And ribbons with all the colors of the rainbow, maybe even some new ones! Grunkle Ford showed me all these cool new colors from his—his research! I’m gonna use some of ‘em in it, I think.” Mabel happily trots along. Dipper looks somewhat aghast.
“Mabel, this is supposed to be a book report,” he says. “About The Outsiders.”
“I was also wondering about that,” Robert says, amused as he adjusts the strap of their backpack. “How does the exploding glitter bomb tie into the report, exactly?”
“For panache,” Mabel says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And it represents the gay undertones. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Robert echoes, smiling as he and Adina share a look.
“Do you—do you know what panache means?” Dipper pauses. “Wait, you used it right. Nevermind. What about the poor janitors, though?”
That makes Mabel stop for a minute, putting her hand to her chin and hmm-ing. “Oh, shoot. That’s a good point. It’s gonna be super messy.” She snaps her fingers. “I could just clean it up myself afterwards! Mom, can I bring our vacuum to school?”
Adina smiles, shaking her head. “I’m sure they have a vacuum there at school, honey.”
“Oh, yeah! Then I’ll just use that. Anyways, then after the glitter bomb, I’ve composed a song and choreographed an interpretive dance about the entire plot of the book, which I technically didn’t finish, so I just kind of guessed at the end!”
Dipper buries his face in his hands. “I’m so glad you’re not my partner this time.”
“I’m gonna get so many style points, Dipper. So many.” Mabel grins, skipping alongside him.
“Those aren’t a thing,” he mutters, grumbling to himself, “why do all our teachers give you bonus points all the time?”
The twins pull ahead, leaving their parents to wander behind. Adina falls into step beside her husband, watching the kids as they go forward a good few dozen feet. “Don’t go too far,” she calls, Mabel giving her a thumbs up in response.
She lowers her voice as the twins chatter to each other up ahead. “I wanted to tell you about something,” she says. Robert raises his eyebrows.
“Something important enough to let the kids run ahead?” He asks, taking the hint and keeping his voice down.
“They were both down in the kitchen in the middle of the night,” she says, softly. “A little before 2 A.M. I think? But—I heard them talking, honey, and it was…”
How does she put it? She’s got Robert’s attention now, though—his confusion has turned to alarm in the face of her seriousness. “It was worrying, honey. They’re having nightmares. Dipper said something about a—a puppet show incident? And about Mabel almost getting hurt.”
Robert frowns. “Well—nightmares don’t necessarily mean anything. And Stan would’ve said so if they were…” he trails off, frown deepening.
“That’s another thing,” Adina says, all hushed urgency. “Mabel said something about her own nightmare, Rob. She said it was about Stan ‘never waking up’ after something.”
Robert blinks, reeling back from the statement like it’s punched him. “What?”
“They sounded genuine,” she murmurs. “Like they weren’t just nightmares. I don’t know how to bring it up to them.”
The two of them look over to where the twins are traipsing through the woods, Mabel leading the charge and Dipper picking through the undergrowth a little more carefully. Why they’re deciding to run through the foliage beside the trail instead of just walking on the trail is beyond her, but hey—whatever’s more fun, she supposes.
“Well, we can both try,” Robert says, putting an arm around Adina’s shoulders. “We’ll just be careful about it. I’m sure if we take it slow and let them share things at their own pace, they’ll tell us eventually.”
“Ideally,” she says, leaning into the half-embrace. “I just hope they’re willing to share anything at all.”
The peaceful moment is broken entirely when Mabel whips out a grappling hook from her bag, firing it at a tree. Before either of them can even blink, she’s got her arm hooked around Dipper’s waist and they’re swinging up toward the branch as Dipper lets out a startled yell.
“Who’s queen of the forest now, Celestabellebethabelle!” Mabel calls, dragging the both of them up onto the tree. Adina feels frozen in place, not sure whether to run forward and interrupt or—what, climb up the tree after them?
Where the fuck did Mabel get a grappling hook?
“She wasn’t a queen,” Dipper says, scrambling up onto the branch above Mabel and sitting on it. “And also, you just scared mom so bad she doesn’t know what to do.”
“Both of you get down from there,” Adina demands, “right now. Mabel Adina Pines, where did you get that grappling hook?”
“Oops,” Mabel stage-whispers to her brother, “I forgot that it was, like, dangerous.”
“It is definitely dangerous,” Adina snaps, storming toward the twins. Mabel flaps a hand, looking nonchalant, but Adina knows her facades well. The look in her eyes isn’t just anxiety, but guilt, too.
“It’s fine, mom, I know how to use it!” She smiles. “I was using it all summer and never hurt either of us with it! Right, Dipper?”
Looking like he definitely does not want to be included in this, Dipper nods a bit hesitantly. “Uh, yeah. It was pretty helpful, actually.”
“All summer?” She is going to have a very strong word with Stan Pines when they all get home.
“Mom,” Mabel says, “it’s fine. I promise. Grunkle Ford taught me how to use it properly, but even before that I never got hurt with it.”
She heaves a sigh. Robert pats her shoulder with a quiet chuckle. “Well, Ford was usually the… rational uncle.”
The twins share a Look™. It’s the kind that she and Robert share whenever they’re doing something ridiculous. Mabel covers her mouth as she giggles. “Rational,” she says, “yeah.”
“Totally,” Dipper agrees, grinning.
“Get down from there before I change my mind on letting you keep it,” Adina says, and that’s enough to get the twins scrambling down the tree with surprising ease. She’d been freaked out before, but… Mabel does show a surprising amount of proficiency with the tool, easily anchoring it around the branch and lowering herself and her brother down without so much as a single concern.
She breathes a sigh of relief nonetheless. “Please do not go throwing yourselves in the air like that again.”
“I’ll be more careful,” Mabel says, holding her hands behind her back and rocking forward onto her toes, letting her feet fall flat again. “Sorry, mom.”
She reaches out to ruffle her hair, smiling. “It’s alright. I’m sorry I snapped at you, kiddo.”
“Hey, guys?” Dipper calls. They look over to see him and Robert a fair ways ahead. “You coming?”
Robert grins, walking backwards. “The hike isn’t gonna finish itself!”
The rest of the day goes by without much more incident—at one point, Dipper nearly runs off into the bushes because he sees… something. None of them really know what he wanted to chase, truth be told, and Mabel practically dragged him back down the trail, despite his protests that there was something in the foliage.
(“No monster-hunting!” She’d said. Like this happened all the time. Adina couldn’t help but laugh—that would be her cryptid-hunting little bugger, huh?)
“Check yourself for ticks,” Robert calls after the twins as they rush into the house. Adina shuts the car door behind her, chuckling as she leans against Robert’s shoulder.
“There they go,” she says, “off to do whatever it is they do when we’re not around.”
“Hopefully it’s homework.” Robert presses a kiss to the top of her head. “I do not want to find Dipper in the kitchen at midnight chewing on pens again.”
Adina snorts, nudging him lightly with her elbow. “You do the same thing, honey. C’mon. Let’s call your uncles while the kids are busy.”
Easy enough to do—she hears the twins laughing upstairs, pattering around in the hallway, then the smack of a mini-golf club smacking a ball. She’ll have to look out for any accidental traps next time she goes upstairs, if they fail to clean up their homemade golf course by then. In the meantime, she begins making coffee while Robert gets his laptop set up to talk to the uncles. They’d texted Ford earlier to make sure the two would be available, and thankfully he seems to be the one in charge of getting connected, because it goes far more smoothly than when Stanley last tried to set up the Nyoom meeting.
“Robert!” Ford’s voice comes through the speakers, gruff and bright. “Adina! How are you both?”
“Good, good,” Adina says, leaning over Robert’s shoulder. “Is Stanley there?”
“Yup,” his voice comes from off-camera, but he leans into frame with a grin. “Hey there, in-law.”
“Stanley Pines,” she snarls, and all three boys flinch at her tone of voice. Ford and Stan share a nervous glance. “You better give me a damn good explanation as to where my daughter got a grappling hook, and why she got to use it all summer.”
“In my defense,” he says, “I tried to get her to pick something else from the gift shop to keep.”
“I am so mad at you,” she snaps, before pushing off from Robert’s chair to go get the coffee. She relishes in Stan’s nervous chuckle. “What have you two been up to, then?”
Ford chuckles. “Sailing the open ocean, as usual. We’re beginning to head north again, with the end of the month coming up. Won’t be long until we’re back in Oregon, just another two months ‘til summer.”
“You guys staying in Gravity Falls, then?” Rob asks, leaning his chin into his palm. Adina sits down beside him, passing him his mug—his coffee lightened by a few spoonfuls of sugar and a bit of creamer.
“Oh, absolutely,” Ford says, smiling. “There’s no place like home, truly.”
“I’ve been thinking, actually.” Rob sips his coffee. “Adina and I were talking about it just earlier today, but we were thinking we’d join the kids on the trip this summer. See what all the fuss is about. They still talk about last summer all the time.”
The pause does not go unnoticed. Neither uncle looks… uncomfortable, but the quiet is somewhat heavy with something Adina can’t describe. She leans against Rob’s shoulder, brow furrowing slightly.
“That would be nice,” Ford says.
Stan shrugs. “Big old family reunion. I don’t see why not. I dunno what kind of space the Shack has these days, though—Ford and I could probably rent a place for the summer if you and the kids wanted to stay in the Mystery Shack, or… I dunno.”
“Oh, we can get in contact with your friend Soos to figure that out, I’m sure.” Adina smiles. “I think it would be nice.” Pointedly, she adds: “I’d like to see what kinds of things you all got up to last summer.”
It goes unsaid, but she doesn’t need to say it: I know there’s something you aren’t telling us.
Robert doesn’t seem to notice the tension at all. “Well, great! Hey, Ford, I also wanted your opinion on this program, I’ve been having some trouble…”
Adina smiles as the nerves all bleed away. She lets herself get lost in her husband’s chatter. If her worrying is for a good reason, well—at least now she’ll find out for certain. And if nothing’s going on at all, and she’s just reading into things, well… a family reunion isn’t such a bad way to spend the summer.
The kids will be excited. It’ll be refreshing.
Yes, she thinks, I have a good feeling about this summer.
(A few hours later, Stan texts the group chat he, Ford, Mabel, and Dipper share:
Alright kids. You ready to put on the biggest show of our lives?)