Work Text:
This was not how Pacifica expected her senior year to go.
The Stans had passed, first Stan in April and then Ford in July, and yet here she was, dating some socialite’s son her parents picked out like nothing was wrong. Theodore Ambrose Sebastian was blond and wore crisp white clothes. He had no personality beyond an aversion to anything remotely unclean and an annoying titter for a laugh. He drove in from out of town once every two weeks and would take her to an extravagant restaurant where they would spend evenings with him talking about himself and his family and her wishing she was somewhere else. Wishing that the Pines were here. All of them.
She kept in contact with Mabel, chatting and occasionally video calling. There was an aura of sadness surrounding the other girl; it was in the way she’d stare into the distance as if desperately searching for any trace of her great uncles to come back, the way she wore less bright clothes than she used to, and the times she’d break down and Pacifica could do nothing but wish her well. It wasn’t enough, but Mabel remained optimistic despite her grief.
Dipper, though, she hadn’t talked to in months. He no longer responded to her texts. It hurt more than it should. He was grieving too. Her anger was irrational. And yet she couldn’t quell the burning in her heart when she looked at all the times she’d been left on read. She couldn’t lose him too, but he didn’t know that. Why would he? His great uncles had taken him with them when he died, she guessed. She shouldn’t be mad at him for grieving, for losing such a big part of himself. She just wished she hadn’t ended up losing him too.
She used to sit and draw with Stan. They drew absolutely ridiculous comics, mostly ones that Mabel came up with. Sometimes they would talk about family, and bad parenting, and how they were going to be better. He’d had an on again/off again relationship with Lazy Susan for a few years, so after she started working at Greasy’s, she saw both of them more. Susan loved their comics, but always said she couldn’t even draw a circle right when Pacifica offered to try and teach her. She encouraged Pacifica to keep drawing after Stan passed, and Pacifica was more than happy to oblige. It was another way to keep the conman’s memory alive.
Sometimes, she’d go on adventures with Dipper and Ford. Hike through the forest, watch the odd birds of Gravity Falls, find a cursed object. Ford was sort of awkward and formal around her, but she soon learned he was like that around most people, not just her. He warmed up to her after a while and would ask how she was doing. He was another person that legitimately cared about her and made her feel, well, like a person. Not just something to prop up her parents’ images at parties and pageants.
“Pacifica? What are you thinking about?” Theodore asked. She was in his car, being driven to their weekly date. Classical music played softly through the radio.
“I’m going to show you one of my favorite places to eat,” she decided. Another date spent listening to him talk about himself would drive her crazy. She needed something different.
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
She nodded and gave him directions. A few minutes later, they parked outside of Greasy’s. Pacifica gestured grandly at the establishment. “It may not look like much, but it’s home to me,” she declared.
Theodore wrinkled his nose. “Ew. It’s so . . . dirty. Let’s not eat here. This place’s food is only fit for dogs. And no one respectable works somewhere called Greasy’s!”
“I work here.” She clenched her fist, gritting her teeth to stop from saying a lot more words that she would probably not regret saying later, but would bring her parents’ ire down on her.
His face scrunched up. “Why?”
Because Lazy Susan was kind to her. Because she wanted to make her own money. Because she got to see the townspeople, bring them a little joy, and sometimes snark at them. But Theodore wouldn’t understand. “I don’t need to explain myself to you.”
“If we keep this going–us, I mean–I’d much rather you quit your job here. There are so many better, higher pursuits–”
She couldn’t take it anymore. “We’re done, Theodore.”
He opened his mouth to say something. Then closed it. Then asked, “What?”
“We’re done,” she repeated firmly, standing her ground. She should have done this a long time ago. “I don’t like you romantically. I don’t even like you platonically. And you don’t really like me either. Not for anything beyond shallow reasons. Also, you insulted the place I work and the people who work there, thereby insulting me and people I care about deeply. Just go home. I can find my way from here.”
He scoffed. “You’re going to come back to me once you realize that you deserve better than this.”
“Whatever. We’re through.” Pacifica pushed the door open and walked inside. Susan would give her a ride home if she asked. Either way, it was better than staying with a guy she didn’t even like. It occurred to her that if Ford were still alive, he’d likely have convinced her that dating Theodore wasn’t worth it in the first place.
Her chest tightened at the reminder. There would never be anyone like the Stans again.
She decided that she would ask Susan to bring her to the Mystery Shack instead of home tonight. Melody and Soos would likely be fine with it, and she could spend time with Wendy if she happened to be there. They could keep the memories of the older Pines alive in their own ways.