Chapter Text
"Dipper"
"What," Dipper turns around to meet Pacifica's intense gaze, her eyes shooting daggers at him
"You need to clean your hands too," Pacifica demands in an assertive tone that coerces Dipper just to shrug and hold out his hands to her.
One, two, three, four, five squirts of hand sanitizer lands on his hands, he looks up at Pacifica and she replies with, "Can't have any pizza grease left on your hands." Dipper lathers his hands, finding that he really has to rub in the hand sanitizer to spread out the copious amount of hand sanitizer Pacifica got on him, rubbing on the back, front, sides, and even a little on his wrist to properly disperse it.
Shit.
He realizes he accidently wiped that girl's number off his hand, her digits turning to ink mixed with the vanilla blackberry essence. Dang it, just when he'd gotten a lucky break.
(Actual chapter 9)
"What was that at the bench?"
"What at the bench."
"You were shooting daggers at that girl," Mabel states confidently, suspiciously eying down Paz.
The girls are back in Mabel's room, with Pacifica laying back on her own bed, hiding her lower half under the sheets, while Mabel lays on her side, staring down Pacifica with a smile on her face. The girls have changed into the matching pajamas they had bought earlier that day, with the pajamas being white with polka dots on them, Pacifica's having purple polka dots; Mabel's, pink ones. The light was turned off with only the lamp illuminating the room, casting a warm tone across the girls' faces.
"I could ask you why you wear the necklace, that I gave you as a bracelet," Pacifica looks at Mabel, her eyes slightly narrowed, trying to shoo her off her line of reasoning.
"I like it as a bracelet," Mabel explains, grabbing her half of the heart then flipping her wrist to examine the M engraved in it, "plus, if you wear your necklace around your neck people will think you're in a relationship." Mabel leans forward in her bed, her wickedly wide smile returning to her face, "so... why were you shooting daggers at that girl?"
Pacifica looks away, her face burning. Pacifica pulls the sheet up to her face, trying to hide underneath the sheets. "I don't know what you're talking about," she says skittishly.
Mabel gets up out of her bed and stands over Pacifica, looking right into her eyes, Pacifica returns her gaze, not out of choice but more so out obligation, "mhmm, and that's why you're hiding underneath the sheets." Pacifica feels like she's about to faint, Mabel knows, and worse than that, Mabel knows that she knows.
"I'm just cold, maybe I'm coming down with something."
"Coming down with a case of loooooveee"
"Nooooo," Pacifica pulls the sheet over her head and hides herself in vain. She's slightly embarrassed that she's given away her secret so easily, oh no! Does Dipper know? Suddenly nervousness shoots through her body, nearly knocking the wind out of her. Her appetite vanishes, her joy turns into paralyzing fear, and she can feel the heat flood out of her body. Her brain engulfs itself in chaos, her thoughts running at a million miles a minute, as she tries to rationalize her way out of this hole, before realizing that she's coming up with nothing.
"Pacifica, are you okay?" Mabel asks, her concern reflects in her voice, "you look almost sick."
Pacifica looks back up and tries to smile, but finds herself forcing it, "I'm fine," she says unconvincingly, her voice is flat with defeat, absent of the playfulness it had just a minute ago. "Do you think he knows?"
"Knows what"
"Oh my god Mabel, I'm going to punch you,"
"Knows what?" Mabel sing-songs.
Pacifica jolts up, "Mabel please."
"If you want my help, then you've gotta give me what I want," Mabel says, a smile plastered on her face.
"Fine," Pacifica looks around, as if clearing the room of listening devices and grabs Mabel, quickly hissing "I like him," into her ear before quickly pulling away, trying to rally any semblance of composure.
Mabel shrieks in joy, she screams, "Oh my god Pacifica!" before smothering Pacifica in a bear-hug so tight that Pacifica thinks she wouldn't be able to escape even if smothered in Vaseline. Mabel finally releases Pacifica out of her vise-grip and looks at her with the purest smile Pacifica has probably ever seen, "Oh to be young and in love, its the best!"
Pacifica looks back at Mabel expressionless, "Well, it feels like the worst," she crosses her arms.
"That's the nervousness talking! You just need to ignore that little bugger, it gets all up in your head and makes you forget about all the things that make you a great person," Mabel says as animated as ever, she practically has to stop herself from jumping around.
"Am I a great person?" Pacifica asks, her voice flattens with seriousness, "Like really Mabel, am I a great person?" She looks at Mabel and feels intimately vulnerable, as if Mabel can see right through her with x-ray vision, seeing every virtue and sin she's committed, and perhaps, damn her to eternal punishment.
"What?" Mabel asks, her enthusiasm fading into an abyss, she immediately calms and settles onto the far side of Pacifica's bed.
"Mabel, do you think I am a great person, or even a good person for that matter?"
"I mean, of course!" Mabel beams, "I mean unless you're like a murderer or something, but even then it was probably in self-defe—"
"No Mabel," Pacifica rolls her eyes, "I didn't kill anybody, but like," she takes a breath, "I don't know, I always feel this weight on me, that I'm like a bad person."
Mabel looks puzzled, "But why?"
Pacifica takes a moment to mull it over, "Well, it always feels like I'm the bad guy marching in and taking and taking and taking," Pacifica breathes out and deflates, "and never giving," she finishes shamefully. She feels guilty for even telling Mabel this, I mean why should she be entitled to Mabel's time? Why should she even burden Mabel with all this? It seems pointless, but she pushes through that feeling, because even as she feels this, she knows she needs to get this out, lest she end up crying against a bathroom wall again.
"Well that's not true, I mean, you literally gave me this perfume yesterday!" Mabel exclaims, snatching the distinctive red bottle off her cabinet and displaying it proudly with the widest of smiles across her face. Guilt immediately cascades through Paz's core.
"Yeah, but I bought that for me." Pacifica says, drooping her head, feeling moisture building up at the edges of her eyes.
"But!" Mabel starts, "You gave it to me, a good or great person isn't a person who is always doing, thinking, and wanting to do the 'right' thing," Mabel explains, Pacifica looks up, glassy eyed, "its about trying to do the right thing, you're trying to be perfect, nobodies perfect—"
"But you're like a perfect nice person," Pacifica interrupts.
"No I'm not!" Mabel yells before covering her mouth and looking towards the door to listen for any footsteps coming to tell them to keep it down, "That rainbow loom bracelet I gave you," Pacifica looks down at her wrist and examines the white and purple bracelet Mabel is talking about, "I made it for myself yesterday, but I'm giving it to you, and you still liked it, right?"
"Yeah, but..."
"What, do you not like it?"
"No, its not that"
"Then what is it?"
Pacifica reaches deep inside her soul and examines it closely, looking for what she feels is so wrong with herself, "I just feel, tainted? I don't know," Mabel stifles a laugh, drawing Pacifica's ire, "What?"
"Tainted?" Mabel prods, "Really?"
"Yes, really, I feel tainted! Like something inside me makes me a bad person, that everything I do isn't coming from actual goodness but instead me trying to cover up how awful I am!" Pacifica bursts out.
"Pacifica, unless you have a defective heart or something I don't think anything inside of you makes a bad person," Mabel says, Pacifica starts forming an objection, but is silenced by a hand from Mabel, "Paz, take a second, take a deep breath and just imagine you are a good person and your doing something good for someone you like, ok?" Pacifica instantly thinks of the scene in Dipper's room, handing him that cologne she bought him.
"Yeah, yeah, what now?"
"Okay now in your imagination, what's different?"
"What are you talking about," Pacifica replies, her voice monotone.
"In your imagination, where you're a good person, what is different about you versus now?" Mabel clarifies. Pacifica reasons, well, hmm, I dont know, she thinks a little more, maybe something in her heart, I don't know! Why are you asking me? "I guess... nothing?"
"Exactly!" Mabel says excitedly, "There's nothing wrong with you, in fact," she pauses for dramatic effect, "you thinking there's something wrong with you is going to act like a prophecy that, like, makes itself-"
"A self-fulfilling prophecy?" Pacifica asks, a light smirk tugging on her lips
"You rich people and your silly words!" Mabel beams, Pacifica is tickled by Mabel's obliviousness, no way she doesn't know what a self-fulfilling prophecy is. "Anyways, if Princess Northwest doesn't care to interrupt me," Mabel continues, Pacifica tilting her head and shooting her a look, "you thinking you're a bad person is going to make you a bad person, so stop thinking that!"
"I feel like I can't," Pacifica answers, and she's being honest, she feels like something is weighing on her, she's not sure what it is, but she feels like she's a few degrees wrong, like she's a compass that points south.
"Okay, for the next few days I'm gonna treat you like you're a saint"
"I dont know," Pacifica says slowly, scratching the back of her head, "I feel like that would make me feel worse."
"Nonsense! Plus, if you really think about it, its fair considering just how many boys I'm gonna make fall in love with me with this perfume," Mabel gushes, tossing her hair while framing the red vial prominently in her hands. If there's anything that could cheer her up, Pacifica thinks, it is definitely Mabel's bubbliness, Pacifica smiles faintly, temporarily forgetting about her problems and instead imagining Mabel luring guys in with a sweet scent and putting them in a daze. Pacifica thinks Mabel will break many a guy's hearts, probably have a song or two written about her by the time she graduates high school.
Pleasant thoughts Paz, Pleasant thoughts.
In the room next door Dipper disassociates as he listens to some music, laying outstretched in his bed. His eyes locked on the popcorn texture of the roof, the ceiling light just slightly off center from where he's laying down.
♬ Will she love me again tomorrow? ♬
♬ I don't know ♬
Maybe he lost his only chance at love. 13 years old, no valentine's day grams, and finally when a girl does see something in him, he wipes it away! Stupid, Stupid, Stupid.
♬ I don't think so ♬
That's okay, Dipper throws his head back onto his pillow. No its not, why does he have to be the irredeemable twin? Not only does Mabel have more friends, creativity—Stop.
Dipper closes his eyes and blocks out his thoughts, comparing yourself to her isn't going to fix anything. Buut, pranking her would, probably.
Dipper jumps out of bed and is man reincarnated, hopping out and throwing on a dark grey shirt with some black athletic shorts he fishes out of the back of the closet. It doesn't have to look pretty, after all, he can hear the girls gossiping, or arguing, or fighting, uhh, doing something in Mabel's room. He sticks to the lowest denominator, wouldn't want Descartes to get on his back. Anyways, he slips downstairs, hands sliding across the smooth wood railing as he descends, when he reaches the landing he turns right twice and ends up in the kitchen where Pacifica is taking a sip of water.
Where Pacifica is taking a sip of water... Why is she taking a sip of water?! Now?!!
Oh no.
"Why do you look like you've just seen a ghost," Pacifica asks, setting her glass down on table and turning towards him.
"Uhh, n-n-no reason," he sputters, nice one dumbass, definitely selling your case well. Her face weary, lights up with an amused smirk. She looks... really good, even if she was just in pajamas. Her hairs loose, freely falling over her shoulders
"Is your dialogue box cracked, what going on with all this stuttering," she replies in a snide tone, letting out a self-assured laugh. Dipper flushes red in embarrassment, he feels like dropping to the floor and curling up into a ball to die. Not only did he screw up a chance he had with a cute girl, but now here was Pacifica picking on him, exactly what he doesn't need right now. His neutral expressions turns to a frown and he lets out a sad sigh as he resigns to find a glass of his own. As he turns to find a glass, he feels a hand on his shoulder, when he turns, glass in hand, he finds Pacifica with a concerned expression on her face, "hey, are you okay?" she apprehensively asks, Dipper noticing gravity in her voice.
"I mean, yeah, I guess," he says, his voice monotone, flat, and deflated. He turns back and takes a step to reach the fridge, struggling to find the dispenser in the darkness. He sighs again, "Its just I rubbed that girl's number off when you put hand sanitizer on my hands," he says, his voice expressing his regret
"Yeah that's goo— gonna suck," Pacifica says, her face strangely neutral while her eyes track his every movement, "did you like her that much?"
"I mean she's like," Dipper pauses, and looks back at Pacifica, "look, what I'm gonna tell you is personal, so you can you, like, keep it to yourself and maybe not make fun of me for it?"
"Sure," Pacifica looks around the kitchen and finds a bar stool to plop herself down on. Dipper paces around the other side of the kitchen island, wondering exactly how he's going to tell this to Pacifica
"You promise?"
Pacifica bears a rarely seen gentle look, softening her gaze, and setting down her elbow to put her head in her hand, "Of course, what's on your mind," she says in a friendly tone, her voice slightly trembles, must've been nothing.
As Pacifica watches Dipper put together sentences in his head, her legs are restless, Is he about to tell me he likes me? He lets out a breath and she swears she can hear him mutter, "Here goes nothing," under his breath. Her excitement is palpable, but she suppresses it, keeping her face gentle and neutral, I need to look receptive, but not in a way that he suspects that I know what he's about to say. Her feet go cold and her vision slightly blurs as her pupils dilate.
"Well, umm, this'll sound weird, but I've just never had a valentine, or been with anyone," Dipper says, awkwardness and embarrassment seeping out with every word, "like I never even got one of those stupid valentine's grams, like the little letters." His body language reflects his ingrained shame, he's standing with his arms held close to his body, his shoulders slouched, and his eyes avoiding her's.
"Yes, I know," she reassures.
"Yeah, I mean I don't always think about that, but," his voice hitches, "I mean it gets to me a little bit. you know, when I have time to think" Her heart clenches, it feels weird to feel like... this, you know stepping into another person's shoes, trying to understand what they feel like. She wonders for a second how she'd feel if nobody ever noticed her, seeing everyone around her be happy while you almost... fade from existence? Sometimes she felt like that too, probably more so if she didn't talk to Dipper over the course of the past few months.
"You feel, umm, invisible?"
"Yeah," he looks up from the floor and towards her, his face is genuine, his features softening. Okay, okay, I need to do more of that. "And when I do feel seen, I feel, like, uhh, embarrassed, like I should've been hitting some of these milestones already, y'know?" Pacifica nods her head, she just wants to hold him, squeeze him, tell him that its okay, that his... hurt, its all gone, but, she can't, at least not now...
"So when that girl came up to me, it felt... good, to be seen, and in the way you want to be seen," Dipper says, his features lightening up with a smile almost forming, his frustration relaxing, then shifting back to the frustration, except now amplified, "until I went and wiped it away like a moron," he says exasperatedly, sounding defeated. A small, nay, a large part inside Pacifica feels intensely guilty for the maneuver, she didn't know that this was an isolated thing, or that it would matter so much to Dipper. "I just feel like I can't anything right," Dipper starts, "I do well in school, I mean I'm swimming now, I feel like I can do everything else right, but like social recognition, I feel that's like the one thing I'm hopelessly bad at." She notices a slight glare in his eyes, is that wetness? Her heart breaks, if only he knew.
"Well, Dipper," he turns to her, "attention isn't all sunshine and rainbows, its sometimes worse than not being seen at all."
"How?" Dipper says in a terse tone.
"Because Dipper even if they, for example see you, they're not actually seeing you, and I mean the real you," Dipper looks confused, "What I mean Dipper, is that those Valentine's Day grams you never got, I got hundreds of them, in fact, I got so many of them they put a limit on how many you could send to me, but, I don't think that for a second any one of those boys ever actually cared for me," she takes a breath, "all they saw was," her voice breaks a little bit, "what I could do for them, what I could mean for them, not what I mean to them, but for them." She sighs, "Dipper you might feel invisible, but it sure is a whole lot better than just being a symbol, when you're a symbol, you're not even a real person to them."
"But not everyone you meet is like that"
"I mean, sure," Pacifica concedes, her gaze shifting out the window, "but you never know if anyone actually likes you, or just what you look like, or your last name, or to get some sort of favor out of you, it wears on you" she stares at a cabinet behind him, zoning out.
"I don't know..." Dipper trails off uncertainly, "I feel like girls have it a bit easier, I mean they're nice to eachoth-"
"Absolutely not, at least, not the ones that go to my school," Pacifica interjects, "remember me before I met you and Mabel?" Dipper nods, "That's how every girl is at my school, its like they worship Regina George and try to live in her divine light, like she's some sort of god." Pacifica shakes her head, "Everyone sees everyone as just another way to get a rung up in the social hierarchy."
"Well, I don't know if its all bad," Dipper starts, turning to fill up another glass of water, the hum of the water dispenser filling the kitchen, "I'd kill for someone to play with my hair, that seems cool," Dipper says innocently. Pacifica is taken aback. Wants someone to play with his hair? Hmm... But what if he- is that weird?
"Do you want me to play with your hair?" he turns to face her; she can tell he's a little confused.
"Umm, is it weird if I say yes?" Dipper's cheeks turn a shade darker.
"I don't think so, its just like a normal things friends do, and we're friends, right?" she asks, her voice wavering, she tries her best to ignore the burning sensation at the bottom of her heart, her chest feeling heavier with each breath.
"Yeah, of course"
"Well then it's not weird"
Dipper and Pacifica are sitting in the living room, Pacifica on the couch with her legs stretched on it while Dipper sits on the floor, his back to the couch, right under Paz. She's running her hands through his hair and he feels little tingles massage his scalp. Every now and then her nails dig into her
"Does Mabel ever do this?"
"Only if I let her put glitter in my hair," Dipper says.
Pacifica snorts, "That sounds about right," she replies, he can hear her smile in her voice. She continues to rummage his hair, running her hands through his curls, gently pulling her fingers through them, straightening his hair out.
"Sorry if my hair is oily or whatever."
"You might as well apologize for being human too," Pacifica jokes, "its fine, everyone has natural hair oils, honestly it would be more concerning if you didn't because that would mean your hair is drying out," she explains.
"Is my hair healthy?"
She collects a clump of his hair in her hand, rubs it together, "Seems good, I mean you probably don't use hair products, right?"
"Nothing except my bottle of 4 in 1, shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and hand soap."
"That ma- wha, huh, hand soap?!" he hears her snap her head in bewilderment.
"Just kidding, its 3 in 1"
"Thats still probably terrible for your hair, don't you ever wonder how something can at once clean your hair, condition it, and wash your body at once?" she asks, he thinks it over, isn't soap just soap?
She knew something was up when Paz didn't come back from getting a sip of water, and now she finds Paz and Dipper talking together in the living room, their backs turned towards her. Oh my god!
OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!
She knew it! Well, she had just been told, but she knew it even before then. She had overheard their nightly conversations over the phone and definitely knew something was up when he had started texting someone during their car rides home from swim practice. Oh, and that one time she saw pacificanorthwest17 like and quickly unlike her swim meet post, that definitely alerted her that something fishy was going on.
But now she knows it for certain, Mabel knows all. Mwahahaha.
Now she was peeking from behind the upstairs railing and making out bits and pieces of Dipper and Pacifica's conversation in the living room. Honestly, she hadn't had this much fun since... this morning when she dunked Dipper into the toilet. Anyways... Her heart is beating so hard it might pop out of her chest, ohmygodohmygod! They're talking! In the darkness she can barely make out Paz braiding Dipper's hair. Mabel caresses her chin, pondering what blackmail Paz must have on him to convince Dipper, of all people, to let her do that.
"I always just thought soap was soap," Dipper says.
"Dipper, I use like 3 different hand soaps just for my hands,"
"Really?"
"No," her tone is flat, and packed with just enough snarkiness to make Mabel snort out loud before she instinctively covers her face. Oh crap! She almost gave herself away, the two below her scan the room, Mabel quickly ducking down to the floor to avoid being spotted by the two lovebirds. Maybe she had pushed her luck, maybe she should back to the room. Nahhhh.
"Did you hear that?"
"Yeah, it might've been my dad flushing his office's bathroom,"
"Oh, your dad stays up this late?"
"Yeah, he and my mom try to avoid each other so one is awake during the day, the other during the night."
"Hmm, I don't think I've seen my dad since Tuesday,"
"Jeez, isn't it at least Wednesday today?" Dipper asks.
"At least Wednesday? What could that even mean Dipper?" Pacifica turns Dipper's head towards her, Mabel can't really make out their faces, she can tell they have, uhh, eyes and a mouth, but not much else.
"Just expressing that it is most likely a day that is Wednesday or after Wednesday," Dipper says coolly, deflecting her question.
"Why is that even a thing worth expressing," Pacifica asks, sounding completely fed up with Dipper's antics.
Welp, this is about to devolve into an argument over nothing, well Mabel ought to hit the metaphorical hay, if you know what she means. And she would definitely blow her cover if Pacifica got back and she was still awake. She crawls out of sight then tip-toes back to her room, careful to close as softly as possible hearing it click softly shut. Mabel hops into her bed, tucks herself into bed and dozes off, daydreaming of being an aunt. A cool aunt, mind you!
After a night of picking and pulling Dipper's hair out, Pacifica is capital-T tired, "Hey, we should probably go to bed, before anyone spots-" she stops herself, Dipper turns to face her.
"Before anyone spots what?" he asks.
"Like before they see us staying up," Pacifica answers.
"That's a good idea, my mom will probably make us an actual breakfast since your here," Dipper says, getting onto his feet, she follows his cue and gets off the couch herself.
"Oh, I forgot poor people have to cook their own food," Pacifica snidely remarks, Dipper looking down and shooting her a glare as he makes his way towards the stairs.
"I forgot rich people have no souls," they're walking up the stairs and Dipper is taking them two at a time, her legs unable to keep up. Showoff.
"Hey!" Pacifica says, "I have a soul," she says softly, they're getting close to the bedrooms and, unfortunately, the end of their night.
"Sure you do," Dipper whispers, stopping as he gets to the foot of his door, "well, goodnight Pacifica, talk to you tomorrow."
"Of course," she says earnestly, opening the door before quietly whispering, "goodnight."
As soon as she's inside she lets out a long breath she's been holding, ahhhhhhh. Before she knows it, she has a smile plastered on her face, and the heaviness in her heart is feeling a little lighter. Hey, that was a pretty good day! Everything went smoothly, and she even got some alone time with Dipper! She feels... better, she listened to him and tried to empa-, empAth-, she shivers a little, empathize with him. She kind of understands where he's coming from, it sucks being invisible, and in a way, she's invisible too. Its Pacifica Northwest this, Pacifica Northwest that, and never just Pacifica. She liked the attention, before she realized it was given selfishly, that people didn't actually care about her, more that they just wanted to fantasize about adding her into their lives, like an accessory. Even her parents treated her like an accessory!
She didn't want to be an accessory, she wanted to be a person. And in a way, the Pines were the first to do that, Mabel's sweetness and Dipper's genuine talks helped her introspect and realize she shouldn't just sell herself out to the hottest and highest bidder, but actually care about whether people respect her for her, not for how she looks.
She exhales, she does miss the blissful ignorance a little bit. Living in her bubble had been peaceful, she knew what she was supposed to do and she didn't have to think too hard about anything. As she slips into bed, she thinks further about her nostalgia, realizing it was false-placed. Her life wasn't fulfilling, sure it was easy, but she didn't actually do anything.
Pacifica breathes in the quiet of Mabel's room, her soft breaths amplified as she held the sheet to her face. Pacifica thinks No, it hadn't been peaceful. It had been just as stressful, if not more stressful because of plainly arbitrary her worries were. Instead of freaking out wondering who she was, and what she wanted to do with her life, she'd been freaked out by if her dress was in fashion and if it was the right shade to match her skin tone.
Maybe the quiet is better than the heights.
Pacifica dozes off aided by the gentle hum of the A/C as it sends a cool breeze through the house.