Chapter Text
They roamed south of the Mystery Shack by night, crunched leaves and twigs filling the ground. Her backpack straps began digging in her usual jacket, even though she’d been out hunting foxes and quails as a kid. From time to time, she adjusted her grip onto a flashlight with tiny cracks and dried mud, and a compass that had its red arrow steadily pointing on their journey.
As her brown boots squelched to the mud below, she scowled while glancing between Dipper and the path forward. He chewed on his ballpen like a cow with cud, holding a blue journal. The golden pine tree in front shimmered slightly. Every so often, he wrote a quick note before he focused on any marks or evidence for the monster of the week. She took a deep breath.
She could leave right now. Tell Dipper some excuse about Mabel or her parents texting her something important that only she should know about. But that’s useless. Wouldn’t she message Dipper first? The sole reason being here’s ridiculous already.
The second week the twins came back to town, Mabel asked for some stuff including but not limited to extra clothes, bandages and a first aid kit. When she asked more about it, she told her it’s a secret.
“All shall be revealed in due time, my dear friend,” Mabel said in a video call, eating Chips before licking the cheese dust off of her hands. Pacifica rolled her eyes before talking about her day in Greasy’s.
So when she came around the Shack at a weekend’s sundown, as per Mabel’s request, she brought her inside. She summarized her flurry of explanations as her accidentally forgetting that her slumber party and mystery hunt’s on the same day. And for a favor, she’s asking to fill in for the mystery hunt.
She objected at first. Dipper himself got his backpack and foot out on the door. But much to Mabel’s amusement and Pacifica’s wonder, Dipper bumped into the conversation. Color her surprise then the words that came out his mouth:
“Pacifica? Sure, why not? We do make a great team, don’t we?” Dipper said, grinning.
She couldn’t do anything to stop that smile matching his. She’d rather wear a potato sack again than admit that that merry feeling’s like the first time his number stayed at her contacts.
She tightened her grip at the odd m-hoo by the distance before loosening up. The bellowing in her stomach never left. It’s just a simple walk in the woods with Dipper. The Mystery Shack is not too far anyway.
“Pacifica?”
She jerked her head too quickly towards him before blinking. A heavy sigh escaped her before she smacked the flashlight on his shoulder. He grunted in response. What an ass.
“What?” Pacifica sneered, narrowing her eyes. Dipper squinted before redirecting the flashlight to their path. “We already done here?”
Dipper’s brows furrowed, shaking his head. “No, no, just–” He nudged her shoulder. “How’re you feeling?”
Pacifica paused before she scoffed, tossing her hair back. “Me? You should know better than to ask, Dipper.” She clenched her jaw from that distant m-hoo again. Can’t they wrap this up already?
Dipper raised his eyebrows before he surrendered. “Alright, alright. Just making sure. Wouldn’t want anything bad happen to you, that's all.”
Pacifica stared for a moment. She closed her eyes, scrunched up for a bit, before letting go. Why is he like this? He shouldn’t have the right to care more than he should. She should say something, anything.
She hesitated before nudging his shoulder back. “You never bothered telling me bout this monster you’re so gung-ho about tonight.” She needed that at least. Maybe she should’ve done a head start on her will beforehand.
He let out an ‘oh’ before he brought them to the side, stopping for a bit by the mossy tree behind.
“Here. Point the flashlight to the journal for a bit.”
As Dipper slid his pen to his flannel’s pocket, he flipped through the journal’s pages. His gaze focused on a gray illustration of an eye in the dark forest. Pacifica narrowed her eyes. Between the pine trees, a grassy enormous hand reached out. Its palm eager holding onto anything in its vicinity.
Dipper tapped on it for a moment. “This is one of the guys that got Grunkle Ford into this whole thing in Gravity Falls.” He cleared his throat. “‘Steve. Never actually seen its face. Covered in moss and mushrooms, hides in the forest, big enough to pick up my car and eat it.’”
The flashlight trembled. Pacifica’s eyes never left the drawing. He’s going to get them either killed, maimed, or injured at the end of the night.
“That’s not all,” Dipper said. He grabbed the camera hanging from his neck and flicked through the image library, tucking the journal under his arm. Tree trunks resembled toes. Others were massive foot prints with a tiny human foot in the middle. “This one’s something Mabel and I found years ago. Years! And that’s since we came here to Gravity Falls.”
Dipper pressed once more onto a setting showing off the dates. “Now watch. This is from a few days ago.” Flipping to the next picture, a lone open space amongst a wide barrage of trees stood. The next day, a fully grown tree stood in its place.
Pacifica widened her eyes, shaking her head slowly. “That’s… not normal.”
Dipper drew in a sharp chuckle. “Welcome to my life, Pacifica. Now you get to experience the weirdness firsthand.” Didn’t he say something like that before?
“But here’s the thing,” he continued, putting back his journal and pen in his own hands again. He pointed towards her. “A creature like that can’t stay idle for long. And if there’s anything I know about monsters in the forest? They move around a lot. If, without a doubt, Steve has hands and feet, maybe we can see his whole body up close! Besides, not too many people come around here at night.”
Is he hearing himself right now? She darted her eyes away from the drawing and brought the flashlight back to the trail. “Sure. By not too many people, you mean idiots.”
Dipper scoffed, bumping his journal on her arm. For someone so keen on finding this weirdo, he probably forgets they might die in the end. “And you just happen to be a part of that. But hey, if we could see Steve at any other time, we would.”
Pacifica pursed her lips, grumbling while kicking the rocks. Mabel owes her big time doing this. “And you’re sure that we’ll find him tonight.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
She exhaled sharp from her nose, face heating up. Damn him for saying that. Chewing on her cheek, the cicadas chirped. Somewhere nearby, a distant tree groaned and crashed to the ground. She hopped over the log, peering over her shoulder.
“Let’s go.”
They ventured into the night. Consecutive yips came over by the distance. Pacifica wrinkled her nose from the hanging moss hitting her face. Despite everything, her eyes remained taut. They can’t afford carelessness, not now.
But that never deterred Dipper, head swiveling every once in a while left and right. His notetaking turned frantic as they wandered further. Eventually, the once unified trees slowly became a patch of scattered ones. She shivered from the cool night air, the compass indecisive which direction they’re on.
They stopped in front of a humongous footprint that’s the size of a large mall. The heel of its tracks pressed down by the mud. She reached her arm to get a glimpse of the mark’s toes. But no luck.
Dipper crouched down, narrowing his eyes. He tugged on her hand gently before Pacifica pointed her flashlight above his head. He grabbed a pieceful of dirt, twiddling some between his pointer finger and thumb.“They’re recent.” He said. “We might be close.”
Pacifica grimaced as she furrowed her brows. “Ugh. Remind me not to hold your hand when worse comes to worse.” Maybe she could give him some spare rubbing alcohol inside her bag? A dash of it and a towel would–
All thoughts of that went away as he wiped his hand on his jeans. Gross.
Grabbing his camera, he popped open the lens cap before a loud shutter echoed through the woods. She shielded her eyes at the large flash coming through.
“Oh my God, can’t you just take your ‘evidence’ normally? You’re going to get ourselves killed with that!” Pacifica said.
Dipper looked up at her, tilting his head. “What?” He said, darting between the camera display and Pacifica. “It’ll be too pixelated and the laptop wouldn’t pick up what I was picturing no matter how many edits I’d put in it.” He stood up, turning off the camera. “Besides, better safe than sorry.”
She groaned, leaning her head back and pinching the in-between of her brows for a moment. They’ve come this far already. They might as well finish it. Who knows how much longer would Dipper hunt for Steve the more they don’t find him?
“Fine. But if one of us gets hurt at the end of the night, I told you so.”
Dipper grinned, mouthing a thank you. Before they could walk halfway from the area, the earth rumbled. A large stomp, then another, before it stopped completely. Pacifica’s legs almost buckled as she held onto his arm. Dipper held hers in return before letting go.
Above the tree fringes, a colossal silhouette poked out. By the moonshine, a hint of shrubs and moss covered its body. A hand loomed, grabbing onto the trees perched on its head before crouching down out of view.
She turned toward Dipper, looking onward. His eyes held the glow she saw when they captured the ghost in her old manor. It’s that same glow he held whenever he talked about the monsters and creatures he’s encountered in his journal in his calls. Except, it’s been years since she saw it in front of her. She let herself stare just a moment longer than usual. But she stiffened.
No. No, no, no.
How did she almost forget? That same glow also consisted of scars, wooden people, and near death experiences. Her other adventures with him through the years taught her that much. She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Dipper.” She said. She linked her arm around his, shaking her head. “Don’t you dare.”
He sported a grin that shone brighter than the flashlight she held.
“That must be him. That must be Steve.” He breathed out, removing her arm away from his. He squeezed her shoulder before letting go. God give her strength.
“Dipper…”
He took a quick glance to the path forward and then towards her. His hands grasped onto that journal and pen like a lifeline. Pacifica’s eyes widened. “See you there?” Dipper said.
Before she could reply, Dipper bolted forward. His laughter filled the forest. “Dipper, wait,” she shouted, mud against her boots and legs hard to the limit. It was a short distance but newfound height gave him the advantage of not putting much effort.
Was this why Mabel wanted her to fill in this favor? Or was this from scoping this monster out earlier this week? She clenched her jaw, sprinting. The flashlight shook but still remained in her hand. Dipper’s red flannel gleamed under its beam. Had it not been for it, she’d probably run off and be off base.
She pommeled herself in his back, arms gripping onto his waist. She tried catching her breath, forehead on his back. Dipper stood idle, head upturned. A hint of pine and musk filled her nose.
“What were you thinking, going alone like that?”
No response.
“Hello? I’m talking to you.”
Nothing.
“...Dipper?”
“It’s him.”
She followed his gaze upward, gasping while she held onto him tighter.