Chapter Text
Dipper would’ve killed to be in Gravity Falls during Christmas break under any other circumstances than the ones he was under. Anything other than his parents divorce. Oregon really was beautiful in the winter, especially Gravity Falls. It was a picture perfect snowscape, with frozen lakes and forests coated in powder, and yet he was miserable. When Mabel wasn’t sleeping on the drive over, she was crying. Dipper was starting to feel like maybe it hadn’t been the best decision to keep their parents' arguments from her. He'd known the divorce was inevitable for a while now, but shipping them off for Christmas felt a little extra cruel. Great uncle Ford had promised him Krampus hunting and winter gnome spotting, but for once in his life, Dipper didn’t want to be investigating the supernatural. He just wanted his parents.
Dipper would never, in a million years, say his house in California really felt like home. He would be hard pressed to say they even felt like a family. Him and Mabel took care of each other, and tried their best to be ignored by their parents. That was just how it was. It was depressing, honestly. He had felt more loved and at home in Gravity Falls after one summer than he did at his lifelong childhood home. Dipper had expected it to make the divorce easier, but it didn’t. It just felt more condemning. At least there might’ve been a solution he and Mabel could be happy with if they all cared for each other.
Mabel was crying quietly when the bus approached the stop. Dipper saw Stan, Ford, and Soos standing in the snow with a glittering sign before they even pulled up.
Welcome back
Dipper and Mabel!!
The sign was bright pink and cheery. Ironic. As soon as the bus stopped, Mabel ran off and straight into Grunkle Stan’s arms, sobbing.
“I'm so sorry, sweetheart.” he said, stroking her hair. She’d gotten a new haircut a week ago. She’d been so excited to show Grunkle Stan and Ford less than four days prior. Dipper hadn’t cried or showed any sign of weakness in the past week, but he couldn’t help it. When he saw his family standing there, Soos trying to cheer Mabel up with the sign, Ford looking heartbroken for them, and, finally, Stan extending his arm out to Dipper to join the hug with his sister, he just couldn’t do it. He broke down right in the spot where he stood. He cried, harder than he maybe ever had, in the snow. Dipper felt a pair of six-fingered hands on his shoulders, lifting him off the ground before he got himself totally soaked, and guiding him towards Grunkle Stan and Soos. His family. Maybe the only family he had left.
The car ride back was a sad one. Mabel was deathly silent, but for whatever reason Dipper just couldn’t stop talking. The role reversal was disturbing to everyone involved.
“I've known for months,” he sobbed from the backseat of Stan’s car, leaning on Soos's shoulder, “And somehow I’m still sad. I can't believe I was so naive to think they could work it out! I'm supposed to be smart, I'm supposed to know better.” Soos patted him on the back.
“No one could blame you for trying to be positive, dude.” he tried to reason with Dipper.
“Soos is right!” Stan called from the front seat, “Optimism is a good thing, kid.”
“Indeed,” Ford agreed, “It doesn’t make you any less intelligent. In fact, it demonstrates your strength.” Soos nodded along. Grunkle Stan groaned in frustration.
“I can't believe they sprung this on you kids during the holidays. Completely ridiculous! Would it have killed ‘em to give you a nice christmas?” Ford made an indistinct humming noise that sufficiently expressed his agreement.
“Well, listen,” Stan continued, guilt lacing his words, “I'm really sorry, kids. I know this isn’t how you would’ve picked to spend your break, but Ford and I are gonna make sure you have an okay time, alright?” Dipper didn’t know what to say. There was a pause. Finally, a quiet, sniffling voice perked up from next to Soos.
“We’re happy to be here, Grunkle Stan,” Mabel said at a near whisper, “It’s just everything else.” Another pause. Mabel spoke up again.
“We missed you guys.” Stan sighed, and gave her a sad smile in the rearview mirror.
“We missed you too, kid.”
Dipper leaned his head against the window and watched the milky landscape speed by. Somehow the words of his uncles rang empty in his ears. After everything, after Bill, after the near constant nightmares and panic attacks, after the incessant bullying, he wasn’t sure he could lose his family too. What if he and Mabel were separated in the custody battle? Could he handle that? His breath got lost in his chest, twisting around itself into a knot. Dipper couldn’t hear what Stan was saying anymore. He wasn’t having a panic attack, no, this was different. Something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Suddenly, everything felt very far away. Dipper considered the idea that he was like the bottomless pit now. Emptied and emptied and emptied until there was nothing left. Maybe the divorce was the last straw; maybe now he would just fall forever, outside his body. It felt an awful lot like when Bill possessed him. He gathered the strength to turn his head to look at his sister. She was laughing. That was the first time Dipper had seen her laugh in three days. Grunkle Stan must’ve been trying to distract her, and clearly, it was working. That’s good. Dipper could swing with being a ghost of himself, as long as Mabel was happy.
“Dipper!” Grunkle Ford was looking right at him. He came back to his body a little bit; he got one foot back in reality.
“Are you okay?” Concern was audible in his voice. Dipper nodded furiously.
“Yeah. Fine. Just spaced out.” Ford looked him up and down, disbelief plain on his face. Dipper knew that he was a perceptive man, more so than he let on. Any other day, he would’ve been worried that Ford saw right through him, but right now, he honestly didn’t care. Yet, if he noticed something, he said nothing about it.
“Alright. Well, we’re here.” He realized suddenly that it was just the two of them in the car. They were at the mystery shack. Even in his dissociated state, it would be impossible for Dipper not to recognize just how beautiful it was. The trees around the shack were rime iced to perfection, icicles and snow clung to the roof, and the yellow glow of the house lights illuminated the blue tinted snow that surrounded it. It reached towards him, tethering him back into his body, back into the moment. Dipper was home. Stan and Ford had hung up star-shaped lights and a garland made of actual plants. All he managed to say as he stood in front of the glowing shack was,
“Wow.” Ford chuckled behind him, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Beautiful in the winter, is it not?” He passed Dipper and winked, “It’s a perfect place to spot anomalies, too!” Then, as if the universe was insisting that he retain some hope, Wendy ran out the front door.
“DIPPER!” She screamed, running towards him faster than he could process. She grabbed Dipper so quickly he thought he might fall over.
“Put me down, Wendy!” He laughed.
“Never!” She declared, swinging him around in the air with surprising strength, “I will never let you leave this town again Dipper Pines! I have been so bored without you, dude.” She finally set him down, and he finally noticed the obvious.
“Woah, your hair!” He exclaimed. Wendy had lobbed all of it off into a bob that ended at her chin.
“It looks amazing,” Dipper laughed, “you look badass.” She laughed a whole hearted, warm laugh that he hadn't realized how much he'd missed until that moment.
“Thanks, man. C’mon, let’s go inside. Stan cooked a frickin’ feast.” For a moment, Dipper felt okay. He forgot about the pit in his stomach, his loose mental state, and his parents battling out the trajectory of his life back in California. He just let himself relax into the embrace of Gravity Falls. Maybe it would be okay after all.