Chapter Text
The vines of ivy and the moss and the tombstones gave a safe kind of familiarity to Pacifica. Ever since she was small and cherub-cheeked she'd run away here, to the graveyard by Northwest Manor.
'McGucket Manor,' she corrected in her head. Even five years since the hillbilly's acquisition, she still struggled to see the estate as someone else's.
Her fingers mindlessly traced the name incised into the stone: Archibald Corduroy. His ghost was once a threat on her life, but his place of rest had become a haven for her. It was stupid, but she felt protected by him. Nothing bad could happen to her here.
All the bad was back home, anyways.
Even when growing up, her escapades here were never prevented by butlers or nannies. They probably felt pity for her. Bleached-blonde from the moment her hair could withstand it, forcing a smile despite all the arguments that happened behind closed doors. The pageantry of it all... it was bullshit.
Then, the crunching of grass beneath steps, "Pacifica?"
Her heartbeat quickened. She didn't expect to see him here, when she was in this state. Pacifica hastily wiped the tear streaks off her face, then turned to face him.
"What are you doing here?" Dipper tilted his head, trying to get a better read on her expression.
"Can't a girl hang out at the cemetary? It's a public space, in case you didn’t know," Pacifica tried to keep her tone light.
"Just didn't expect it," Dipper chuckled, "Not a typical haunting ground for pageant queens."
Pacifica smiled at that. He'd always had a way of cheering her up.
Dipper nodded at the tombstone, "Visiting an old friend?"
"Something like that."
"Mind if I take a seat?"
"Whatever."
Pacifica tried to ignore the warmth that blossomed within her as he tossed off his bag and sat down. It was a much more difficult task at seventeen than it was at age twelve. Back then she'd remind herself that he was a loser and a dork and he smelled weird and lived in a shack. Now the bad odor was gone, replaced by more frequent showers and a cologne his great uncle Ford had gifted him, and none of the other things seemed like anything to complain about. She even kind of liked those things about him. It meant he was real.
"What were you doing around here?" she questioned.
"I was talking over some blueprints with McGucket and wanted to take the scenic route home," Dipper said simply.
“Right,” she said softly. Made sense. Dipper had been working as an apprentice under his great uncle Ford and Old Man McGucket for the past two summers. It allowed him to stay in Gravity Falls while he still built up his experience for college.
College.
Pacifica hugged herself, trying to ignore all the problems that had been plaguing her.
"Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?"
"Well, you wiped your face when I sat down, which makes me believe you were here crying, and your body language indicates there's something that's been bothering you."
She looked away from him. "You are so annoying."
"Well, my powers of observation are something that have frustrated many before." Dipper paused for a moment, "Is it your parents?"
She could never get used to it, the way he could see right through her. There was no point in hiding anything, "They just... My parents keep taking me to these soirees and mixers from their stupid Ivy League schools."
"And that's bad... why ?"
Pacifica knew how this came off: 'Oh, poor little rich girl, she has to go to a bunch of fancy dinners and meetings'. But it was all too much for her, so she explained, "My parents want me to get into a good college not for my sake, but because they expect that in the future I can fix our financial situation. They want to get back to what we were before, so they want to control everything. What school I go to, what I major in, what classes I would enroll in.” Pacifica finally meets his gaze, “What friends I make."
Understanding settled over Dipper. He’d seen fragments of their controlling nature before. The ringing of bells. He knew how much Pacifica had struggled even to keep their friendship. Her parents despised both him and Mabel, and all the time Pacifica has spent in their company throughout the years.
"There was a point in my life where I was okay playing the part, but I don't know if I can do it anymore. I'm tired of the cardboard people, and the forced smiles, and the stupid brunches, but they get so angry. I don't know what to do."
"Well, what do you want to do?" Dipper asked, his voice a little gentler than before.
Pacifica quirked her brow, "What do you mean?”
“For yourself. What would make you happy?”
She thought for a moment. There were a lot of things that would make her happy. Getting back into equestrian competitions, or maybe mini-golf, learning about fashion design and merchandising. Maybe start an organization that helps dress the unfortunate. Just because people are poor doesn’t mean they have to be unfashionable. If she was lucky, maybe it would be somewhere she could visit Dipper and Mabel every now and then. But then inevitably, the disappointed face of her parents if they knew that’s what she was dedicating her time to.
“I think anything that would make me happy would end up disappointing someone else.”
“Maybe, but it’s your life. You deserve to be happy.”
Pacifica dryly chuckled at that. She didn’t know if she believed that. It felt like she had so much to atone for, so much to live up to. Happiness didn’t seem like a top priority.
The buzzing of a phone. Dipper took his phone out of his pocket, the Caller ID reading ‘Grunkle Stan’.
Dipper declined the call, and sent a quick ‘Be home soon’ text, “Sorry, they’re probably wondering where I am. New Ducktective episode tonight.”
“You should go.”
“No, no–”
“You shouldn’t keep them waiting,” Pacifica insisted.
He hesitated for a moment, “Are you sure?”
“Don’t worry, I got old Archibald keeping me company.”
He laughed, and the sound made the knot in Pacifica’s chest loosen. Dipper picked up his bag, and began to walk away, when he took a moment to turn back.
“Oh, and Pacifica?”
“Yeah?”
“I just want you to know that whatever you choose to do, as long as it makes you happy, it won’t ever disappoint me.”
In that moment, she wanted to look away, to hide her expression so he wouldn’t know how much that meant to her, but she couldn't. Her eyes stayed trained on his warm cognac eyes and the soft curls that peeked out of his bomber hat, wondering how so much kindness could exist in one boy, and how could she feel inexhaustible amounts of tenderness for him in the way she did.
Dipper gave her a soft smile, waved goodbye, and walked towards home, leaving Pacifica with the ivy, the moss, the tombstones, the cool air of the summer evening, and a deep warmth pooling in chest.