Chapter Text
Dib sprinted through the trees, paying no mind to the sharp branches that cut into his face and legs. He ran recklessly, diving over fallen trees to stumble on the other side, and tearing through brambles that ripped into his hoodie and jeans. A dull pain throbbed in his left shoulder, but the fading adrenaline pumping into his body washed it away and kept him moving at a breakneck pace. That was too fucking close.
He dared not glance back to check if anyone was giving chase. He prayed there weren't dogs being released right this moment to hunt him down. After an hour or more of running, his legs and lungs were beginning to burn something fierce. He couldn't go much longer like this. He could barely see ahead of him and had no idea where he was going, he only knew he had to get away.
He stumbled out suddenly onto asphalt. A road? He slowed to a halt and breathed heavily, gazing around. The canopy of branches stretched upwards toward the black sky like skeletal hands. The air was chilly and quiet, now that he stood still. A distant rumble of tires approached. No sirens. Dib zipped his black hoodie up and turned to face the oncoming headlights.
"I will, Mabel... Yeah." Dipper tilted his head into the phone he had held against his ear. He steered the car with his other hand, rounding a gentle curve. "I'll see you tomorrow then, I'll be back at the place soon. Yup. Night!"
Dipper clicked the red disconnect button after he heard his sister's squeals of farewell. He let out a deep breath, listening to the rumble of his tires on the winding road for a moment rather than moving to turn his music back on. His headlights glared ahead, casting an eerie light on the thin trunks of trees that pressed in on either side of him. He drummed his fingers silently on the steering wheel.
The twins had been out here for only the better part of a week, so far. Mabel had insisted on accompanying him despite Dipper’s assurances that he could handle the investigation himself. So they rented a little cabin in the surrounding forest, about a thirty minute drive from the nearest town and eighteen from the nearest gas station. It was perfect for a home base, right in the very woods they were researching and setting up trail cams in. They hadn't gotten any concrete evidence of the so-called devil that stalked these trees, but Dipper was optimistic. Even if it turned out to be a hoax, he wanted to at least get answers and proof of that too. That was what he did, after all, ever since he graduated highschool. He was living his dream, hunting for proof of the weird and unexplainable, often alongside his twin sister.
His phone buzzed in the seat next to him and he glanced over. A text notification. He clicked his phone screen back off and turned back to the dark stretch of road ahead. His eyes widened and he slammed on the brakes, the tires squealing loudly at the abrupt complete stop. Dipper’s heart pounded. He looked up after a moment, hands clenched on the steering wheel in a white knuckled death grip.
Through the small illuminated cloud of mist coming off the car, he saw a person standing in the middle of the road a few feet ahead of him with their arms raised against the light. Dipper stared, dumbfounded and shaky from the sudden hit of adrenaline. He put the car in park.
"Jesus fucking christ. Fuck me," he muttered under his breath as the figure waved meekly at him, still shielding their eyes from the glaring headlights. Dipper clicked his brights off and rolled down his passenger window after locking the doors, just in case. Why the fuck would someone be out here so late at night?
The person walked over to the passenger side and leaned down to look at Dipper through the open window. Whoever this is, they were pretty damn tall.
"Uh, hi. Sorry." A male voice spoke, the black haired boy smiled sheepishly at him. He propped his arms on the door. Dipper blinked. "Um... thanks for stopping."
"Wh..." Dipper started, but found himself at a loss for words. "I almost hit you. What the hell are you doing out here?" He gestured to their surroundings, the middle of the fucking woods.
The boy picked a twig out of his hair and laughed weakly.
"Yeah, I'm kind of fucked up, to be honest. I was camping out here and my car died. I've been walking all day, I'm exhausted." Light glinted on his strange circular glasses, the right lens was cracked slightly. His chapped lips stretched back into that lopsided, shy smile, as if he felt embarrassed to be troubling Dipper. "Could I maybe bother you for a ride?"
Dipper knew this was a terrible idea. Picking up hitchhikers in the middle of the woods could never be a good fucking idea. That's how you get murdered. But... he did look exhausted and like he has been in the woods for hours. Basically, he looked like shit. His face and hands were scratched to hell and his eyelids drooped slightly. Dipper frowned deeply. He sighed.
He couldn't, in good faith, leave someone out here alone so late at night. They were nearly thirty minutes away from town and this road was barely ever traveled on so his hopes of someone else coming by and picking him up was pretty much just wishful thinking. He took a deep breath. Shit.
"Alright. Get in." He clicked the button to unlock his car doors. The hitchhiker's grin widened. He clambered in, adjusting the seat to accommodate his long thin legs. Even his jeans were ripped up from walking through the woods, Dipper noted.
"You're a lifesaver, dude. Thank you." He smiled and settled back in his seat. "I don't know what I would've done."
Dipper hummed in response, keeping his eyes forward. He put the car in drive and continued down the road. There was a better place to do a U turn a little ways ahead where it wasn't so narrow.
"Where should I drop you off? Do you have anyone you can call?" Dipper asked, glancing sideways at the boy in his car.
He chuckled and shook his head. "Nah. Just..." He shifted his shoulders and winced. "Is there a place that sells medical shit nearby?"
"I mean, maybe at a gas station. I don't know what else might be open aside from a hospital..." Dipper trailed off, glancing sideways again. His eyes widened in shock. "Dude, you're bleeding!"
The boy blinked and looked at Dipper with wide eyes before looking down at himself. There was some blood on his hands as well as on the collar of a white shirt that barely peeked up from under his black zipped up hoodie.
"Are you okay? Do you need a hospital or something?" Dipper’s brow furrowed with concern.
"I-I don't know." His passenger's face filled with something that looked like concern or fear. "I took a hard fall on some branches earlier but I didn't really check..." He unzipped his hoodie slightly to reveal the white shirt underneath was dark with blood. The wet fabric clung to his skin. Dipper's mouth fell open in horror.
"Holy fuck. Holy shit."
"Is it bad?" The boy looked over at Dipper with pleading eyes.
Dipper pressed hard onto the gas pedal and sped down the road. Their cabin was a few minutes away and Dipper knew exactly where he had his emergency med bag tucked away.
"Wh-whoah! Where the hell are we going?" The boy's eyebrows furrowed.
"I'm staying at a cabin nearby. I've got stuff there," Dipper said, eyes locked on the dark winding road ahead of them. The trees loomed overhead, zipping past and blurring together in the darkness. "We should stop the bleeding and see how bad you are."
The other boy didn't respond. He was busy staring unblinking at Dipper, fidgeting with the zipper on his hoodie. After a few minutes of driving, he looked away and out the window. Dipper slowed down and turned into a gravel driveway that would be hard to miss if one didn't know exactly where it was. The car bounced and crunched on the gravel before coming to a stop in front of a small one story cabin. The windows were dark.
Dipper turned the ignition off and jumped out of the car, rushing up onto the porch. He fumbled with his keys for a moment, swearing under his breath as Dib followed slowly behind him. The door opened and Dipper flicked the lightswitch, ushering Dib inside.
"Take off your jacket, I'll be right back," Dipper said before he rushed off down a hallway. Dib looked around.
It was a cozy little place with wood paneling from floor to ceiling. They had entered into a living room, with an open kitchen behind him and a dark hallway leading further into the cabin. He could hear cabinet doors banging open and shut as Dipper rifled around in what he presumed was a bathroom. He picked up a remote and clicked the small TV on, staring blankly at it for a moment before dropping the remote back onto the couch. Dib stripped off his hoodie and set it gingerly upon the coffee table in front of him. He prodded at his shoulder with his fingertips and cringed.
"Alright, follow me." Dipper emerged suddenly from the hallway and immediately turned to head into the kitchen area, setting a plump red medkit bag and some towels down on an island countertop. He pulled out a stool and motioned Dib over. He pulled himself up onto it and Dipper took a seat on his left. Dipper adjusted him to face him and audibly winced at the sight of his shirt being drenched in dark blood.
"Jesus, how have you been walking around like this?" Dipper yanked open the med bag and pulled out some bottles and scissors. Dib just chuckled and shrugged, flexing his right hand as pain shot through his shoulder.
Dipper snipped away at the sticky fabric of his shirt, widening an existing hole in the fabric. He frowned and cut open the backside as well. It was a nasty looking puncture wound that appeared to have gone through and through from the front to out the back of his shoulder. Dipper grimaced.
"My name is Dib, by the way."
Dipper was suddenly snapped out of his thoughts, he looked up to see the boy's eyes were fixed on Dipper’s face. They were a dark amber color, he noticed for the first time. The light overhead reflected off his glasses as Dib quirked his head slightly.
"Huh? Oh." Dipper felt stupid. He never even asked this stranger's name, but let him inside his residence without hesitation? "Sorry, nice to meet you. People call me Dipper."
Dib smirked slightly, an expression Dipper found discordant with the horrific, bleeding wound he had in his shoulder. "Dipper," he tested the name on his tongue. "Odd name. But cool."
Dipper chuckled despite himself. "Okay, Dib," he said pointedly.
Dib snorted. "Fair enough."
Dipper poured out a bottle of cold liquid into the wounds without warning and Dib jumped in his seat, swearing loudly at the sudden shock of burning pain.
"Sorry! Shit," Dipper hissed, quickly dabbing at the wound with a wad of gauze. "I-I... I've never treated anything like this, you probably need a hospital, but that's like thirty minutes away... Shit, I'll do my best to patch you up and then I'll drive you. Or should I just call an ambulance?"
"You don't have to do something like that," Dib said, moving to get up. Dipper scoffed and grabbed his shirt with a few fingers, keeping him in place.
"As if I'm just gonna leave someone with a fucking hole in their shoulder to fend for themselves. Sit down," Dipper said.
Dib obeyed, staying silent as Dipper pressed gauze into both wounds and wrapped bandages around his shoulder best he could. He watched Dipper work, having freedom to stare directly at him while he was occupied with his task. Dib studied him closely. He was young, around his age. Brown hair, hazel eyes, and freckles dusting across his cheeks and collarbone. His thin hands worked quickly and deftly, wiping blood from Dib’s skin with a gentle touch.
"You live here alone?" Dib broke the silence.
"Mm, no," Dipper hummed, finishing up his work. "I'm staying here temporarily with my sister. She'll be back tomorrow."
Dib nodded and fell silent once more.
"Okay..." Dipper said finally. "I think that should do you for now. You've got so much blood on you, but it doesn't seem to really be bleeding much anymore. Hopefully that's a good sign." Dipper leaned back and heaved a sigh of relief. He ran his fingers through his fluffy brown hair. Dib's eyes followed the movement closely.
Dipper stood up from the stool and helped Dib off as well, though he hardly needed it.
"We still need to get you to a hospital, though. You might need stitches or some shit, I really don't know. I'm no doctor." Dipper had a hand on Dib’s arm, trying to softly guide him towards the front door. Dib stood in place.
"I doubt that's necessary. Besides, it's like the middle of the night, anyway, and I haven't even really eaten or drank anything today." Dib looked down at himself. "Plus, I look like a mess."
"Yeah, you fucking do," Dipper agreed, eyes scanning over the boy's bloody torso and arms. Really, how did he bleed that much and not pass out? "Alright, uh... fine, go clean off a little, second door on the left." Dipper waved towards the hall. "In the meantime I'll try to get some food and water together."
Dib smiled after a moment. He nodded and walked off down the hall, disappearing into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. Dipper spent the next few minutes getting some snacks put together from their small stockpile, as well as a glass of water and a bottle for the road. He let out a sigh, listening to the distant sound of the sink running in the bathroom. He furrowed his brow. The TV was also on, the volume very low. Dipper walked over to it.
He plopped down onto the plush couch and pulled out his phone to check his text messages. Just Mabel saying goodnight once more, along with a cute cat picture covered in hearts. He smiled to himself and sent one back. He looked up from his screen briefly to see if Dib was out yet, but only saw the hall was as dark and empty as before. His eyes drifted back to his phone but snapped up to the TV instead. He slipped his phone into his pocket and leaned forward, clicking the volume button up on the remote next to him.
It was some kind of late night news station, looked like. The reporter was talking about the county they were currently staying in... Dipper's face contorted in worry, thinking of how Mabel was by herself at a motel in town overnight after doing some solo interviewing of some locals. She was much more sociable than Dipper, after all.
"This is a very sick and dangerous individual, do not engage if you see him and call the police immediately," the dark haired woman on screen was saying. "Just earlier tonight we have had reports of a deadly incident in Fall County with the police. We don't have the full details yet, but the suspect did escape into the woods after shots were fired. Again, if you see this young man call 911 right away."
Dipper froze in his seat, hands locked together. That's... that was...
A picture appeared on screen, a shitty mugshot of a skinny boy with dark under-eye bags and unruly black hair. An escapee from an institution for the criminally insane, the reporter said. A murderer.
Dipper swallowed hard, feeling that his hands were suddenly clammy and cold. It was the boy he had picked up on the side of the road. The boy staying in his cabin right this moment.
"Ah, shit."
Dipper jumped in his seat at the sudden voice. Dib was in the room, standing behind the couch off to the side, watching the television blankly. He turned his head to meet Dipper's eyes, seeing his wide eyed, fearful expression. Dib sighed.
"That really is a shame..." Dib muttered. A pit of terror twisted in Dipper's gut as he watched Dibs eyes somehow become... cold and detached. It was like watching a mask slip off his face.
Dipper stumbled out of his seat and turned to face Dib defensively, keeping the sofa between them. Dib just watched him, eerily still. It looked like he had washed the blood off of his arms and neck, though his tattered tshirt remained stained in the dark fluid. Dipper paled. Had that even been entirely his own blood? Oh god.
"I wouldn't try anything, if I were you," Dib said, standing as casually as if there wasn't a heavy tension in the air now. Dipper was poised to run, or fight, or... he didn't know what to do. His body was screaming at him to do something but his mind couldn't catch up. He needed time to think! He needed-
Dib took a step, starting to round the couch towards Dipper. Dipper lurched backwards, his heart leaping into his throat. He nearly bumped into the TV against the back wall, swinging a hand back to steady himself. He never took his eyes off Dib.
"Hey! Don't fucking come near me," Dipper shouted at him, arms outstretched at either side of him. He tried to hide the slight tremor in his voice. He didn't have anywhere to go in this position. If he ran to the right, he would have to go down the hallway and lock himself in a room. If he went left, the direction Dib started walking, he would make it to the front door. But either option had Dib in a position to easily reach Dipper before he could get anywhere.
Dib pulled something from his pocket and it clicked open. A knife. The boy rolled his eyes and took another step.
"I'm not playing this game," he said, eyes locked on Dipper. "Sorry it had to be this way. I kind of liked you."
"I-it doesn't have to--" Dipper started, choked by fear upon seeing the knife held in Dibs hand, but his words died on his tongue as Dib suddenly vaulted the back of the couch and crashed into Dipper. Dipper screamed as they hit the wall, knocking the TV to the floor as he scrambled sideways. He tripped backwards and hit the ground.
Dib was suddenly on top of him, his amber eyes shone with light behind his circular frames. A hand closed around Dipper’s throat to hold him down and he poised the knife over Dipper's stomach.
Dipper let out a strangled scream and reached out, digging his fingers into Dib's wounded shoulder, eliciting a cry of pain from the boy and loosening his grip enough for Dipper to kick him away and scramble to his feet. He sprinted into the hallway, spinning into the first bedroom and slamming the door behind him. He locked it with shaking fingers and fell backwards as Dib smashed into it on the other side a moment later. Dipper scooted backwards on the ground, into the corner behind the bed.
He pulled out his phone as Dib continued to body slam into the door, shaking it on its hinges. Dipper choked back terrified sobs and dialed 911, yelling his address into the line as soon as he heard the operator say "911, what's your emergency?"
"Please hurry, he--he has a knife! He's trying to break in." Dipper flinched at every bang on the door.
"Who is trying to break in sir? Are you injured?"
"No!" Dipper stood up, putting his back against the wall. This room had no windows. That door was the only way in or out. "Hes... Dib. He said his name was Dib, I saw his picture on the news and he attacked me and I'm locked in a bedroom now and--" Dipper screamed as the door splintered.
"Get off that fucking call, Dipper!" Dib yelled from the other side.
"Oh my fucking god." Dipper was starting to hyperventilate.
"Officers are on the way as quick as they can, sir. It'll be twenty to twenty five minutes, please stay on the line--"
Dipper’s heart sank. Twenty minutes, of course. That door was not lasting even another two. He was so dead.
The door splintered and cracked loudly, wiry fingers squirmed through the hole and twisted the lock. Dipper's eyes bulged. He dropped his phone and reached sideways.
Dib burst into the room, being met immediately with a lamp vase shattering against him as Dipper threw it and then vaulted the bed, sprinting past him and out the door again. Dib swore and whipped around to give chase, right on Dipper's tail.
Dipper's heart pounded in his ears almost as loudly as Dib's footfalls, right behind him. His hands closed around the handle of the front door. He was almost out, and then he just had to get to his car...
A fist closed around the scruff of Dipper's shirt and yanked him back with surprising strength. Dipper yelped and stumbled backwards. He saw Dib was back in front of his escape route, blocking it. He had to do something. In a split second decision, Dipper gritted his teeth and surged forward, swinging a punch at Dib’s face. Dib's eyes widened a fraction at the unexpected change in tactics, but he easily stepped back to avoid the blow. His right hand flashed outwards and left a deep, bleeding gash on Dipper's arm.
Dipper cried out and took a few clumsy steps in retreat. Blood flowed freely down his arm and over his fingers where he clutched at the wound. He looked back up in time to see Dib lunging at him once more, blade in hand.
"No!" Dipper screamed, trying to stumble backwards and away from the glinting knife coming at him. Tears pricked at his eyes. He didn't want to die here.
The knife barely missed him, grazing against the front of his shirt and catching on the fabric. Dib reached out and closed his left hand around Dipper's throat once more and the momentum of the pair sent Dipper slamming hard into the far wall. He let out a short cry of alarm and crumpled to the ground.
Dib stood still, poised over Dipper's body and breathing hard. He looked down at the unconscious boy, laying on his side at his feet. Dib could see clearly that he was still breathing, though the back of his head was bleeding slightly now. He inhaled deeply, rolling his shoulders back to once more stand in a relaxed posture. Well... that was sloppy. Sloppier than usual, but....
Dib crouched down to look at Dipper's face, eyes closed and pink lips parted slightly. He gently ran his fingers through his brown hair, now messy and splayed out. It was soft. His skin was soft too, Dib found, as he ran his fingertips over the boy's cheeks, tracing the freckles there. His heart thrummed in his chest.
He was pretty. He was still alive. He was unconscious. Defenseless, now. Dib could do whatever he wanted to him, in this moment. And god, did he want to. But the cops were on the way and time was running out. He could just kill him, quick and clean. But where was the fun in that?
Dib frowned and looked out the window at Dipper's car, and he had an idea.
He threw the snacks and water Dipper had got together, as well as the medkit, into the back of the car. He pulled his hoodie back on and tied Dipper's wrists behind his back using some bungee rope he found in the trunk. He hurriedly wrapped the gash on Dipper's arm with some bandages that were left out and he hoisted Dipper up onto his good shoulder. Dib set him in the trunk, where he laid completely limp and docile. Dib stared at him for a long, silent moment, before he got in the driver's seat and started the car up using Dipper's keys.
He pulled out of the small gravel driveway and sped off down the road, the red tail lights of the car casting an eerie glow across the trees as they vanished into the night.
A few minutes later, the dark woods were lit up by the bouncing, erratic lights of police cars. They swarmed the small cabin with guns drawn, shouting but receiving no response. Inside they found only a broken television and drops of Dipper’s blood. No one was inside, living or dead.
Dipper Pines had been taken.