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"What did Grunkle Ford ask you for help with Bro-bro?" Mabel leans back as far as the seat allows, feet propped on the dash of the Dipper's ancient pickup truck.
He'd tell her to move her feet or that it's dangerous to sit like that but he's only told her about a million times already. He rolls his eyes instead. Outside, pine forest goes past them in a blur as they make their way northwest towards Oregon.
His hands grip the steering wheel tight. "I'm not trying to freak you out here but there’s something going on with Stan, Mabel." Her feet hit the floorboards with a thud. "Wrong how?"
"Ford says that whatever's going on with him has got and I quote "demonic entity" written all over it." Dipper's hands lift from the wheel for a moment to make air quotes. "But it's not like, life-threatening or anything right now, just irritating."
She worries her lip between her now straight white teeth. "There is a catch though. We can't tell Stan." Mabel looks at him in confusion.
"Why not?"
He shrugs.
"Ford says he isn't aware of what's happening, and if we talk to him about it it could trigger a full-on possession."
He can hear her drumming her long colorful nails against the window nervously. "Well, as long as he's sure Stan will be okay..."
A beat of silence passes and she gasps, he can't look but he can feel the look his sister is giving him from the passenger seat. "Dipper, do you think it could be…?" Her implication is clear, after all the only demon they've ever dealt with is… dead now.
"You can say his name, he's not Beetlejuice," he says with a laugh. "There's no chance, Mabel. We kicked his ass ages ago. Like, a whole decade!" His brow furrows at that statement. "Wow, we're getting old."
Her expression lightens as she huffs out a laugh. "Bro you've been old since you were a literal child," She pokes him in the arm to punctuate her point. "Guess we'll find out when we get there! I hope whatever it is doesn't take up the whole break though, because the girls are all suuuuuuper excited to see us! Dipper, did you hear that Candy is engaged now?! And Grenda is having a bonfire party this month for….."
Mabel continues on, filling him in on the latest gossip of Gravity Falls. He zones out, letting his sister fill the silence he would otherwise be using to overthink.
Truthfully, he was worried that it was more serious than Ford implied. After all, he had called Dipper to request backup. The semester had ended only a week prior when he got the call from his uncle.
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Dipper had been clearing the last of his stuff out of the dorm when his phone rang. The 'X-files' theme plays on loop, the one he'd assigned to Ford as a joke but had still never changed.
He catches it on the last ring. "Hey, Grunkle Ford!"
His uncles rarely had time to call these days, as they alternated between adventuring and working on the shack to keep it livable. Even at their age, they certainly stayed active.
"Hello Dipper, you're sounding well."
Dipper shifts the phone to his shoulder so he can load the last box into the back of his truck. He has to slam the bed shut, it sticks from time to time.
“What's going on, special occasion? You don't call me very often."
There's a beat of silence, always ominous with his Great Uncle Ford.
"Well, it's certainly an occasion, though special isn't the word I'd use to describe it. I'm calling because I'd like you to come up to Gravity Falls for the summer. I think I may need your help with something."
Stanford heaves a sigh and he sounds exhausted.
"It's Stan, Dipper. There's something wrong and I've got a hunch that it's supernatural in nature. It has Demonic written all over it! He's not in any immediate danger from what I've observed but his behavior is…strange."
He starts listing the instances of Stan’s out-of-place behavior, sounding more annoyed at each one.
"There was the day Stanley walked into the kitchen laughing maniacally, or well more maniacally than he usually does. He's been referring to people as meat sacks and mortal worms. I caught him trying to pick a fight with the totem pole. Oh, and there was the other night that I got up for water and found him standing in the living room chanting in demonic tongues. The worst part is that he doesn't remember doing any of it! To Stanley, everything is completely normal."
Dipper can see Ford in his mind's eye, hand to his chin, brows furrowed.
"I know you've just finished up the semester and I've waited as long as I can but I think I need my apprentice to help me solve this mystery." He sounds so proud and Dipper feels himself start to grin at the affectionate term. “Of course, it goes without saying but you should bring your sister along. We’ll need all the help we can get.”
His apprenticeship with Ford has always been unofficial, with him and Mabel coming up every other summer to tag along with their uncles on various adventures. Ford told him that he had to finish college before he'd consider it seriously and for Dipper to experience other options first. But deep down, he knew he wanted to follow in his uncle's footsteps, he wanted to discover all the secrets Gravity Falls had to offer.
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The trip up from Piedmont is a long one, and Mabel is practically vibrating when they finally enter the town proper. She smushes her face to the window watching all their old favorite places pass by until, at last, the mystery shack breaks into view.
Before the old truck can even come to a complete stop she throws the door open and bolts for the porch, yelling the whole way. "Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford, we're baaaaack!"
A few birds startle at her lively approach. As if on cue (or more likely already waiting at the door,) Stan is out to greet her.
"Hey watch it, kid, I don't need to break a hip today." He says it affectionately, ruffing Mabel's short bouncy hair. She’s so much taller now than when they first came here, coming nearly face-to-face with the Stan's. Dipper did finally get that one inch over her though. Stan had told him more than once that he could be their long-lost triplet.
Dipper waves at his uncle and starts unloading their luggage, (most of which belonged to his sister.) He would never understand why she needed so much stuff for a summer trip, 4 separate suitcases is just excessive.
Ford follows his twin out a moment later and is quickly absorbed into the enthusiastic Mabel hug. Dipper had lost their coin toss that morning for who had to unpack and so he follows them all inside with the first of several bags.
He starts hauling their luggage up to the attic one at a time, and it stirs up the dust that's been accumulating since the last summer they visited. Two years ago already, wow.
He chokes on it, trying to wave it away, and opens the windows to air out the room. It's barely changed since they had first been shipped here by their parents over ten years prior. He feels a bit nostalgic remembering that summer. Terrifying though it was, it was also the greatest adventure he had ever been on. Some days, Dipper really wishes he could be a full-fledged paranormal investigator like Ford. But today, he's still just Dipper, the college undergraduate. His thesis on alternate dimensions was coming along pretty well though, so hopefully not for long.
Downstairs Mabel is regaling their uncles with tales of her semester, dating troubles, shenanigans. She spares no details. Mabel's silliness is part of her charm and they listen without complaint, though Stan looks ready to bolt at any second.
Dipper takes pity on him and yells down the stairs, "Mabel, your phone is buzzing, I think it's Pacifica!"
"Coming!!!"
She runs past him in a blur of pink fluff, the story already forgotten.
Dipper steals her spot at the kitchen table to do basically the same thing she was. (Sans dating troubles. Age had not made Dipper any smoother, that was for sure.)
As he tells them about college and what he’s been working on, he also keeps an eye on Stan. So far, nothing really strikes him as off about him. He seems to be his usual surly self. After a while, Grunkle Stan yawns an incredibly fake yawn in order to excuse himself from Dipper and Ford's "nerd talk" and trundles off to the living room. The television clicks on, and snores follow almost immediately after.
He and Ford exchange a look. A "let's get down to business" look.
After a wordless nod of agreement, they quietly make their way to the lab's no-longer-secret entrance.
The Bill paraphernalia has been removed since the last time Dipper was down here, and it looks like Ford has been as busy as ever. None of the dust from disuse can be found in the lab, its surfaces cluttered but clean.
"Okay Grunkle Ford, lay it on me. What's our plan?" Dipper asks excitedly. If he bounces on his toes a little, Ford doesn’t mention it.
"That depends on you Dipper. First, I need to ask you just how serious you are when it comes to helping me with this -and other- supernatural phenomenon.” Ford levels him with a hard look.
"Of course I'm serious! You know how serious I am, I've only been asking to be your apprentice since I was 13." Dipper replies, a little offended.
"It's an honest question. I don't want you to be upset but the kinds of things I regularly get into are dangerous Dipper. And the lengths one has to go to, to do what I do, are too much for most people. I trust you though so if you say you're ready…"
He unfolds a huge paper full of arcane schematics and drawings.
"What I have planned will require something experimental in order to protect you. This," he points to a drawing of a human head from different angles, “is a sigil of metaphysical protection. And I need to tattoo it on your head."
Dipper balks.
"But Grunkle Ford, we're Jewish! My parents would kill me!"
He huffs a sigh "This is why I asked if you were serious. But I understand if you choose not to, I can formulate a backup plan…"
"I mean, I don't really care about stuff like that but… would it be on my face and stuff?" Dipper asks, sheepish.
"No, actually. I've designed it to be covered by your hair once it grows back. I'd be giving you an undercut, and tattooing over that. It would be totally unnoticable." Dipper nods slowly, hung up on whether an undercut would suit him.
“It will be permanent, more so even than a normal tattoo. Once the magic is activated, only I would be skilled enough to remove it without causing you excessive bodily harm.” Ford says seriously.
Then, with excitement, he continues. "It's based on the same tech I've got installed in my own skull" Ford raps his knuckles on his head as he says it. "But instead of installing hardware you get the software version, so to speak. Less dangerous, and I'm fairly certain your parents wouldn't want me poking around inside your head."
Ford smiles softly and puts a 6 fingered hand on Dipper’s shoulder. "You don't have to decide right now. We’ll go over the general outline of the plan and then you should get some rest tonight. Tomorrow I'll fill your sister in."
They talk until Dipper can barely keep his eyes open and Ford ushers him off to bed. His mind is buzzing with information but his brain can't keep up any longer and the moment his head touches the pillows, he's out like a light.
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The next morning Dipper wakes up to Mabel placing a strip of bacon on him like a mustache. He snaps it up from her hand like a shark, laughing when he startles her off the bed.
"It's about time you get up sleeping beauty," she says from the floor. She’s one to talk, her hair is a mess.
"Sorry, I was up late talking with Grunkle Ford. We were figuring out what we're going to do about Stan," he says through a mouthful of bacon.
"What are we gonna do," Mabel parrots back, curious.
"Well, Grunkle Ford wants to give me a magical tattoo of protection, so that's a thing," he says with a shrug.
"Pssh no way, good one bro" she snorts a laugh. When Dipper sheepishly says nothing her eyes grow big.
"Awh what, I want one! That's so cool!!"
“Why don’t you ask him, he might do it,” he replies.
Dipper climbs only a little reluctantly out of bed, and the two make their way downstairs.
"Ford said he'd give you the summary today, and I'll be on Stan-observation duty," He fills in his twin.
Mabel gives him an exaggerated salute. "Godspeed soldier," she says in a silly baritone. They both giggle at that.
It reminds him of when they were kids. He didn't know what he would do without Mabel, she's basically his best friend. After a quick breakfast of sugary cereal and the rest of the bacon, they split up to go to their respective Grunkles.
Stan may be retired but when he's home at the shack, it'd be hard to keep him out of the gift shop. You can't keep a con man from easy money. Dipper finds him at the register, mid-swindle. Soos is in the middle of a tour and Melody is home with the kids so it's just him, Stan, and a handful of tourists milling about the store. Just an average day of work until Stan says something... weird.
"Cash is great, but you know what'd be better? Bring me some teeth and I'll cut you a deal. " He swears he sees Stans eyes flash blue for a moment.
Well, that isn't unsettling at all, thinks Dipper.
He hurries over to intervene. With a " Haha, such a kidder aren't you Grunkle Stan," he ushers out the unnerved guest. "What, it's a good deal!" Stan insists. He grumbles something about young people not knowing the value of money and all seems suddenly back to normal.
Man, I can't even tell him how weird he's being.
The afternoon passes without further incident. By the time they close up the shop, he realizes just how tired and hungry he is.
He runs into Mabel in the kitchen and the two of them snack on leftover pizza as they discuss the Grunkles.
“So, you're all caught up?” Dipper asks her between bites.
“Yep! I get to be the distraction!”
He raises an eyebrow, waiting for her to explain.
“Okay so basically, I'm supposed to keep Stan out of your business, and lure him into prime napping positions for you nerds to get to work!” Mabel seems very enthusiastic about the whole misleading thing. “I’m gonna make him watch SO many Disney movies,” she says in a false whisper.
She leaves a little later to answer a phone call telling her brother, “It's girl stuff Dipper, laaaaater!”
Sure girl stuff. More like girlfriend stuff, he thinks but doesn't tell her, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Not yet, he’s gotta embarrass her when the time is right. He may be stupid when it comes to dating, but he’s pretty sure he’s caught her looking at Pacifica’s butt before.
Dipper grabs a Tab soda (Wow, they still make these?) out of the fridge, poised to crack it open, when Ford appears out of nowhere.
"So, have you decided what you want to do?"
Caught of guard, he nearly fumbles the can. Dipper always forgets how dedicated to being cool and mysterious Ford is.
He sips his drink to buy a second to think, then gives a determined nod.
"I'm ready, Grunkle Ford. I'll do it."
"Fantastic!" Ford clasps his six-fingered hands together. "Well there's no time like the present, let's get it done tonight! I'll prepare my equipment. Meet me in the lab in, say, a half hour?"
Dipper's hands are rapidly getting sweaty, but he steels himself.
"You got it, Meet you down there." He gives his uncle an awkward thumbs up. Assured, Ford wanders away mumbling to himself and he's left to finish his soda alone.
By the time he makes his way down to the basement, Dipper has gone into full-on overthinking mode.
What if it's too painful, what if it goes wrong, what if I look stupid, why does Ford know how to do tattoos?
All those worries are rattling around his head when Ford interrupts his train of thought with a "Dipper! Just in time, I just finished setting up." He pats the stool next to him in invitation.
Ford's workspace has been cleared to make room for his tools. The table is covered in a disposable paper cloth and several different sterile instruments. The only item that looks out of place is what Dipper assumes to be the ink. In a gold bowl etched with unreadable writing is an inky black liquid. A rainbow slick shines on its surface like oil. He's going to hazard a guess that it's not something Ford just picked up at a store.
His uncle must be able to tell how nervous he is because he gives Dipper a reassuring smile. "It won't hurt very much, I've got numbing cream ready for you."
Dipper takes a seat and picks at his fingernails while Ford gets to work. His uncle hums to himself while he works. With each pass of the clipper, more of Dipper's hair falls to the floor. It’s never been cut this close to the skin before and feels strange exposed to the air. Ford stops somewhere around his ears.
When the blade clicks off, his nerves return full force. He takes a deep breath to steady himself. It feels like Ford is taking forever, he puts on disposable gloves and wipes the area with a cold cloth before applying the numbing cream, then begins mapping the runes with a marker. This part takes longer than Dipper expected, and he is lulled nearly to sleep when Ford steps away. He looks it over from different angles and gives a small nod of satisfaction. When the gun starts whirring, he tenses up.
The first pass hurts, but not as bad as he expects it to. The machine buzzes steadily in Ford's hand as he traces the symbols. Goosebumps rise on Dipper's arms, and he can't tell if it’s from pain or something else. The room feels like it’s getting colder, the air more dense. The building pressure is giving him a headache. It takes a little over an hour before Ford finally stops. Dipper lets out a sigh of relief, making his uncle chuckle.
“That was the easy part,” says Ford. His skin feels like it’s been sung by a hundred angry ants, so that statement makes him balk. He’s not sure what could make it worse. But apparently, it’s the sealing incantation that is worse. Much worse. The Latin rolls off of Ford's tongue and fire follows. He bites his tongue to hold in a scream.
“Hoc atramento signo, hoc atramento obligo, hoc atramento munio, quo mentem non tangat.”
Dipper can’t see it but he’s almost certain that the tattoo is glowing. He nearly passes out from the intensity but almost as soon as it starts, it’s over. The energy that had been building in the basement disperses with a loud whoosh.
“The nice thing,” Ford says as he cleans up, “is that the binding cauterizes the tattoo. So less healing time for you and practically no aftercare instructions! Just don’t itch it. You did very well, I'm proud of you.” Ford beams at him. Warmth blossoms in his chest at the praise.
He soon shoo’s him out, telling him to relax because tomorrow their real work begins. It’s surreal, suddenly having something permanent on his body. He’s honestly pretty excited and rushes up the stairs two at a time to snap a picture in the bathroom mirror. After a few minutes of fumbling and he’s able to get a good angle of the ink, stark on his skin. He takes a few pictures before settling on a goofy duck face photo with a peace sign to send to Mabel. It makes him look cooler than he’s ever looked in his life and also vaguely douche-y.
Maybe I'll get a few more?
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The twins wake up to rhythmic chanting that night that can only be Stan. They exchange a glance and try to sleep, but it’s downright scary. Dipper resolves to get this over with as soon as he can, he refuses to let anything hurt his family.
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The next day his sister hasn't wasted any time setting up her Stan-trap. She’s got his favorite snacks and her best pout on full display. One “Puh-leeeeaaase Grunkle Stan,” and he’s agreed to have a movie marathon with her that evening. Stan is such a sucker for Mabel, it’s ridiculous. If Dipper tried anything like that, Stan’d laugh him out of the house.
When Ford starts to explain the ritual, Dipper awkwardly informs him that this isn’t the first time he’s performed it. Recounting his first encounter with Bill dredges up memories he’d rather not think about, but Ford doesn’t press him. He knows very well what that is like. They wait until the sun starts to set and Mabel gives them the go-ahead. Stan is sawing logs, oblivious to their work. He made it through a third of ‘Moana’ before conking out.
“Maybe ‘Lilo and Stitch’ would have been better,” Mabel wonders aloud.
“Yeah well he’s not supposed to stay awake for it so don't worry,” Dipper tells her with a roll of his eyes while he finishes placing the candles.
With the sigil drawn, he and Ford stand inside the circle and his uncle begins to read the incantation. It whips up a wind around them, as the room fills with energy. He’s becoming more familiar with the feel of magic. The feeling is akin to something like electricity, full of charged potential energy waiting to snap into existence. It brushes up against all of his senses; right now it smells like books, oddly enough. He blinks and the next thing he knows, they're standing in front of a washed-out version of the shack. Bits and bobs of objects and memories distort the dreamscape that is an otherwise perfect replica of the property. Above them hang heavy storm clouds, dark and menacing. Dipper wonders if it’s a reflection of what’s going on in his uncle's mind. He swears he sees eyes blink out the corner of his eye but when he turns to look, nothing is there. Even armed with sealing and banishment incantations, he feels underprepared for what they're going to face. His uncle looks unperturbed as he surveys his twins' mindscape. Dipper wonders privately what Ford's mindscape must look like. Ford summons a flashlight with a wave of his hand and leads them inside.
It’s different from the last time he was here, almost Escher-esque. Stairs lead in impossible directions and the hallways seem to twist as they walk through them. No compass could make sense of Stan's mind as it is now. Ford throws open doors to inspect their contents quickly and methodically. He sees lots of memories of the Grunkles' childhood and of Stan as a young man. There is a fair share of doors with neither labeling nor contents, blank spots that have yet to be restored after Stan's memory was erased years ago. Dipper didn't realize how much his uncle was still affected by the events of 10 years prior.
Sussing out a demon turns out to be harder than he thought, it's been hours (or feels like it anyways, time doesn't move in a linear fashion in the mindscape,) despite their thoroughness so far only the chaos of Stan's mind lends to Ford's demonic theory. No strange beings have come to thwart them, no traps have been laid to dismember them. Still, there's a lingering miasma about the place. Ford had told him to leave no memory unturned but Dipper notices that there are some doors Ford will brush past without a second glance, deeming them not relevant enough.
"It's clearly clever," gripes Stanford. "Could be Xanthax, possibly Bael…. Definitely, a demon that works best in the mind. I've collected enough data to study and we're almost out of time. We'll have to continue this another day." His uncle says as he scribbles something on a worn notepad. He snaps it shut. A moment later Dipper opens his eyes, back in the waking world. Mabel is still there watching them with concern and helps the two up. Stan snores away, undisturbed. Ford leaves them to clean up, muttering as he trudges away. The younger twins exchange a look, and Mabel flips the movie back on without a word, sliding in close on the couch to wrap Dipper in a one-armed hug. “You got this Bro.”
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The second try goes about as well, and with nothing to show for their effort, Dipper begins to feel frustrated. Worse still, Ford voices his fear that their trips may be starting to disturb whatever entity lay dormant. Stan’s mindscape had turned from dark storm clouds to roiling thunderheads and the earth they walked on was dotted with char and soot. It’s becoming disconcertingly similar to a place he’d only seen once before, almost like… The Nightmare Realm. In his waking hours, Grunkle Stan’s speech and behavior were becoming increasingly erratic. His crazed laughter rings out in the shack day and night. Mabel starts to spend more time with Stan than out with her friends, and Dipper can tell that this situation is taking a toll on her. It was stupid to assume that it would be easy.
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After the third trip, Grunkle Ford locks himself in the lab, with the cryptic statement, “We’re running out of time!” Dipper sneaks books out of the lab to read over, hoping desperately that they’d overlooked something, anything. There's lots of information about demons but nothing matches their exact situation. And a lot of the literature comes to the same conclusion. If you can't beat it, you have to kill it. And that includes the poor sucker who’s been possessed. Stan is getting worse and worse, it shows in his gaunt eyes that shine with a feral glint. They don't trust him near the cutlery at this point.
He can’t stand to see his family like this, all at their wit's end from stress. It’s been nearly 2 weeks since they arrived but they’re no closer to fixing Stan. The problem has gone from ‘irritating’ to ‘life-threatening’ with alarming speed. Ford’s close, he’s got the right idea but it feels like they're missing something. Dipper can feel it, it’s right in front of them but he can’t quite grasp it. As much as he looks up to Grunkle Ford, he can’t help but think that they’re wasting time. He ponders day and night when it hits him. They aren’t being creative enough. The mindscape is a place where you can do anything.
Dipper has an idea, it’s the middle of the night but if he waits till morning to tell Ford, it might be too late. Stan’s has been looking rough; frankly, Dipper isn't sure he can last much longer like this. Ford had told him that the human body isn’t meant to contain more than one soul at a time, and that's what makes possessions so dangerous. After a while the original inhabitant will just… fade away. If the body doesn't die first that is.
Mabel is snoring quietly in her bed across the room, the only noise in the otherwise quiet attic. He scrambles out of bed as quickly as he can without waking her and heads downstairs. Stan’s not in his room, and when he checks the living room, yup, he’s in the Lazy-Boy. He sleeps out here more than he ever has in a bed.
Mind alight with his newfound plan, he hurriedly preps the ritual. He takes a deep breath and recites the words. They’re memorized by heart at this point.
Time to save his uncle.
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