Chapter Text
Dipper wrinkled his nose as he looked at himself in the mirror. Mabel was downstairs getting ready and had left him and Morty to their own devices. He had hoped that by the time it got around to time for this party, or whatever Wendy had invited them to, his sister would’ve forgotten about it or decided to do something else. For a while he had thought that maybe his prayers had been answered. It was already a half hour past the time the event was set to start before she had come and thrown open the attic door and told them she was going to get dressed and that they’d better be ready by the time she was done.
His eye twitched slightly as he gave himself a critical once-over. He didn’t really look any different than usual. Tan-colored cargo shorts, orange shirt, blue and white tennis shoes, his trapper hat; he didn’t think he looked bad, per say. It was just that, try as he might not to care, he didn’t like the idea of looking strange or standing out. He supposed it was just something every teen worried about. No matter how stupid it was.
“Y--you know if you’re worried about how you look, you can wear black,” Morty said from behind him, seemingly calm where Dipper had thought he’d be a bundle of nerves.
However, Morty was not having the same crisis that Dipper was currently struggling through. Looking over his shoulder he saw the older teen in the process of yanking a pair of black jeans up his legs. As he dropped down on his bed, the one that had been Mabel’s, and pulled a pair of boots out from under it to shove his feet into, he glanced up at the younger man.
“You’ll j--just blend in that way. It’s what I usually do,” he said, lacing up the boots and then hopping up to dig through his set of drawers and drag out a black t-shirt. Dipper couldn’t help making comparisons between the two of them.
Morty was tall and lanky, looking like he still hadn’t quite grown into his body yet. When he bent over to look through a drawer the ridges of his spine showed through his skin in places. The bones were replaced by the flashes of his ribs when he tossed his arms over his head and wiggled into the shirt he’d picked up. In contrast to Morty’s sharp angles Dipper was more rounded. Not fat, but his stomach was soft and muscles not yet entirely defined, when he grudgingly shrugged out of his shirt; and when he shoved down his pants his hips, while not really round, didn’t taper into bony points. He wasn’t quite tall, either, standing closer to his sister’s height. Wendy even continued to tower over him despite his growth-spurts.
“Didn’t take you for much of a partier,” Dipper chuckled, strolling to his own chest of drawers and starting to paw through them. When he looked back over at Morty, there was red high on his cheeks as he shrugged, shoulders jumping up around his ears while his eyes darted around the room.
“Ah, w--well, My sister likes to go clubbing and w--would throw parties when she l--lived at the house. Sometimes she’d make me go with her w--hen so she’d have a d--designated driver. And you’d be surprised by th--the amount of partying that can happen when you go on adventures with Rick,” the young man said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, making Dipper grin.
He wondered if it was insulting to think the stutter was kinda cute sometimes.
Just as he was tugging on a pair of shorts that looked exactly like his other ones, with the exception of being black, the door flew open again, making him yelp stumble into the dresser as he spun around to see who was there. Of course it was Mabel who excitedly bounded into the room and then dove onto Dipper’s bed. Much to his surprise all she had on was a pair of black jeans, her usual tennis shoes and a big, black hoodie. The most colorful thing about her was her face, which was once again painted in bold shades of lime-green and purple only now with black lips. This time there were little metallic stars around her eyes too.
“Come oooon Dipper! Hurry up and get dressed,” she whined, kicking her legs against the bed and making her twin roll his eyes. Still, he hurriedly tugged on a black tank-top and slipped his shoes back on.
“Why are you in such a rush? We’re already late,” he complained, watching as the whirlwind of a girl practically flew off the bed and started grabbing at him and Morty, trying to lead them out of the room.
“Pfffft! No one shows up right when these things start, Dipper. It’s only like 9:30? The night is YOOOOUNG,” she bellowed, letting them go as soon as she managed to get them to the door and then bounding down the stairs.
The boys shared a glance before tromping down after her.
Mabel had ended up in the living room, talking with Stan and Rick who were slouched down on the couch. Rick had fallen in through a portal, still wearing his bathrobe but soaking wet and with sucker marks all over his neck, legs, and arms, probably everywhere else too. Thankfully they hadn’t gotten a peak of all that, even if the man had stumbled on through, drunk as all hell and needing to cling to Stan in order to stay upright. Ford had retreated to his lab shortly after.
“Grunkle Staaaaan! Everythings going to be fiiiine! I go to these things all the time back home and I’ll have Dipper and Morty with me,” she said, twisting around to look at them as they hovered in the doorway. “You won’t let anything happen to me right guys,” she asked, batting her lashes at them playfully. They didn’t get a chance to answer. “Besides Wendy is going to be there! You worry too much!”
“Don’t care, Pumpkin, we’re going through the checklist. Cellphone?”
“Check!
“Keys?”
“Check!”
“Pepper spray!”
“Check!”
“Knuckledusters!”
“Check!”
“You actually gave her those?” Rick interrupted, brow arching slightly.
Up until he had butted into their call and reply, each of the items checked off Stan’s list had been produced from the large pocket on the front of her hoodie and then quickly replaced. Except she hadn’t yet put away the brass knuckles that Stan had given her for her birthday the year before. They sat daintily on her fingers, glittering pink in the light of the TV screen. There were little raised hearts on the top of each of the knuckles.
“Of course I did! Have you seen her throw a punch!? It would be a crime not to get her a pair,” Stan insisted, making Rick snort.
“Sh-she takes after her Grunkle huh,” he joked, still, it made Stan beam with pride.
“Can we go nooooow,” Mabel broke in, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Stan still looked a little reluctant to let her out of the house.
“Come on, Stan. I put effort into that makeup,” Rick insisted, nudging the man in the ribs with an elbow.
“You know your parents probably wouldn't let you go if they knew,” Stan started, making Mabel look a little deflated. “Good thing I’m your Grunkle. Go have fun kids!”
“Look after Morty for me, Mabel! He--he’s an awkward child,” Rick called after the girl as she tore out of the house, cheering for joy.
“Awe…G--geeze, Rick. I--I don’t need her to look out for me,” Morty protested as he followed after Mabel. Dipper was the last to leave, waving at the two old men.
“I’ll keep an eye on both of them. Everything’s going to be fine,” he assured, Stepping out of the shack and then heading to the car that Mabel had driven over to Oregon at the beginning of the summer.
The keys were in the ignition, but Mabel had taken over the backseat, letting Morty ride shotgun. Weird. Narrowing his eyes, Dipper walked up to the car and slid behind the wheel. Something was definitely going on but hell if he knew what. Cranking up the engine, he pulled away from the shack and started toward the main road. In the back, Mabel kept shuffling around.
“So where is this place,” he asked before pulling onto the road. Mabel had left the flyer up on the dash but that didn’t really tell him much.
“The map’s on the back of the flyer. Just need a black light.There’s one in the glove compartment. Hrmph Morty can navigate,” Mabel answered, her voice muffled a little toward the end.
Without prompting, Morty grabbed the light and the flyer and started to spout off directions. The ride was smooth. He was a lot better at staying on task than Mabel was. The only issue was that every now and then the girl in the back would start to grunt and kick at the back of their seats. She’d about managed to get on Dipper’s last nerve when they pulled up to a warehouse. lot surrounding it was overtaken by weeds and trees. It was obviously abandoned. Or it would’ve been, had there not been flashing lights shining through the windows with cars and bikes parked all around the outside.
Even in the car, they could hear the music spilling out of the building. Dipper drove around to the back, following someone who had hopped off their bike after propping it up against a fence and started jogging around the building. Nervousness was welling up in his gut. At least Mabel had stopped kicking the back of his seat, though. As he pulled up next to the pick-up that Wendy usually drove his twin exploded from the back of the car, at least having the kindness to wait until he and Morty got out of the car instead of taking off.
“Sh-shit Mabel,” Morty stuttered, making Dipper break away from scanning the gathering crowd for Wendy and look at his sister. His eye twitched.
Mabel had apparently been changing her clothes in the back seat. Instead of her hoodie she was wearing one of her knitted creations. It was actually quite similar to several sweater’s she’d made. The front had an owl’s face on it in yellow, purple, and green metalic thread on a black background. The back was a net of carefully assembled string that resembled feathers and shimmered slightly in the dim light, as were the loose sleeves that billowed down from her shoulders and attached to a tight cuff around her wrist. Pressing a button on the inside of one, she made the owl light up, along with the backs and sleeves. Really the only problem with it was that it only covered her chest. She’d even changed her jeans. Instead of them she was wearing a pair of black leggings that had holes all along the sides of them where her skin peaked out before her legs disappeared into huge huge fluffy things with green fur attached to them.
“What the actual fuck, Mabel,” Dipper hissed, looking his twin up and down. “Where are your clothes!? Grunkle Stan never would’ve let you leave if he knew you were dressing like that!”
All she did was giggle and shrug her lit up shoulders.
“Well that’s why he didn’t know, Dipping-Sauce. Chillax! I’m totally not the least dressed person here,” she said, planting her hands on her hips. “Besides I look totally cute! Right Morty!? Morty?”
The poor boy blinked a few times after his name was called. His eyes had drifted somewhere down around her belly-button and his head snapped up sharply. Redness flooded his cheeks as he met Mabel’s mischievous gaze and then turned his head in time to catch Dipper’s glare. Flinching he rubbed the back of his neck and awkwardly shuffled back a couple steps.
“Uh.. Uhm. Y--Yes? Er… No?” His head swung back and forth, looking between the twins as Mabel’s smile widened and Dipper’s eye continued to twitch. “Sh--sh--shit.”
Thankfully he was saved by a loud whoop cutting through the make-shift parking lot. Wendy had apparently spotted them and started jogging toward the trio. She was wearing a bandanna tied around her face and an old band-tee turned crop-top. As she neared the group she yanked the black rag down and grinned at them.
“You guys made it! This is gonna be so cool,” she shouted, throwing her arm around Dipper’s neck. When her eyes landed on Mabel her grin only seemed to widen. “Hah! Nice shirt, Mabel. I was worried you were going to show up in a bikini and a tutu or something and then I’d have to dress you. You’re like my little sister, dude. Can’t have you running around half naked, getting gawked at and junk!”
“See Dip! I’m Wendy Approved,” Mabel said, as if that actually meant something. He didn’t really get a chance to try and argue, though.
His twin danced past Morty who nearly fall over himself trying not to touch her without seeming like he wasn’t trying to touch her. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t think it would be fun but he could feel Dipper’s eyes burning a hole in the side of his face. There was nothing he could do as she grabbed his elbow and started tugging him toward the door as the redhead did the same for Dipper.
“Come on! Let’s get this party started,” Wendy cheered, pulling her bandanna back up over her face. With Mabel cheering at her side, they dragged the boys into the warehouse.