Chapter 1: Prologue
Chapter Text
“Mr. Pines, how do you respond to allegations against your newest product: The Mystery Shack Mystery Milkshake?” The reporter asks, her cheeks hollow and eyes dull. Her eyelids droop while she tries to clear her voice, which is as hoarse as a chain-smoker, despite having been only the picture of health yesterday. She's like a hearth, beckoning you close even as the smoke rises. Literally. Black smoke emits from her mouth with every word, like her questions themselves are a poisonous haze. She puts a mask over the lower half of her face in an attempt at courtesy, but wisps of it leak out from the seams.
Dipper isn’t sure what’s become of her, there isn’t anything like her in the journals--he’s checked. Maybe that’s why this whole situation has him feeling so uneasy.
Normally, the blame for a suspicious Mystery Shack product would fall on its owner and manager, Soos, but Stan still owns the trademark, and had publicly boasted about The Mystery Shack's Mystery Milkshake (MSMM, for short) recipe being self-discovered and proprietary. When people who drank the MSMM began turning into monsters, it was easy to find the person responsible.
Stan says, “If the Mystery Shack Mystery Milkshake was really turning people into monsters, the boy and I would both have transformed already.” He pulls Dipper in closer, so the cameras can see him holding a half-consumed MSMM, “Sorry, kid—”
Dipper feels Stan take the shake from him and, despite having intended to not finish the shake, he reflexively tries to take it back, "Hey!"
Stan, in full view of the cameras, takes a long sip of the MSMM. He swallows, then opens his mouth to show he truly did drink it. “There, see? The only mystery with this milkshake is the flavor! If you haven't tried it yourself, then come visit the Mystery Shack and try it before it’s gone! The first person who correctly guesses the secret ingredient gets one free item from the store!”
He shuts the door, giving the shake back to Dipper. “Sorry for stealing your shake, but these damn reporters are like vultures today. Joke’s on them! After today, I’ll have doubled my sales!”
Dipper awkwardly holds the shake, “I don’t know. What if they’re right about the shakes? I mean, Soos, Wendy, and Ford have all transformed already—”
“Yeah, and you, your sister, and I have had just as much to drink, and we're all fine, aren’t we?” Stan cracks open a beer can, then looks at Dipper, “Want a sip? Fair’s fair.”
Dipper looks at the can skeptically, “Uh, no thanks.” He looks down at the shake in his hand, then sighs. He resumes drinking it, sucking down the sweet drink through the clear straw (Stan said the colored straws were too expensive). “Okay, but, really, the mystery ingredient is vanilla, right? It tastes like vanilla.”
“Nope.” Stan says, beer in hand as he takes a long sip. He sighs, satisfied, “The Mystery Shack Mystery Milkshake's Mystery Ingredient is just that, a mystery.”
“My head hurts,” Dipper says.
Stan says, “What, did you get brain freeze?”
Dipper doesn't get the chance to respond before he hears Ford hiss from the kitchen window, “Sssssstanley.”
Stan grunts in acknowledgement.
“Ssssinccccceee when have you had sssiiiixxxxx fingerssss?” Ford questions, sounding rather concerned. The hydra’s three heads crowd in the small window, trying to get a closer look at their twin. Amber eyes focus on the beer can, where Stan’s fingers are wrapped around it.
Stan’s six fingers.
Dipper feels his heart stop.
Stan is quiet for a moment. The silence doesn’t last long. “So what? People are turning into monsters, not my brother.” He rolls his eyes, “Really, it’s probably just a side effect from messing around building that portal for so long—”
The man’s rebuttal is cut off by a heavy thud coming from the attic.
“Mabel?” Dipper calls out, immediately moving to check on his sister, who had been upstairs getting ready for a party. When he makes it all the way to the ladder and she still hasn’t answered, he becomes panicked, “Mabel?!”
Stan is close behind him, while Ford watches helplessly from the yard, his three heads checking all of the windows they can reach. Dipper races up the ladder, pushing the attic’s door open to reveal…
A seal?
A round harbor seal lies belly up on the carpet, MSMM spilled on the floor beside it as it flails its flippers to roll over. It vocalizes loudly, making startled honking noises as Dipper scrambles to help it right itself. Stan follows Dipper up the ladder only to stop midstep at the sight before him. “Dipper, what the hell are you doing?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s Mabel!” Dipper answers, trying to roll his sister over as she makes even louder noises as if saying don’t you recognize me Gruncle Stan?! Her whiskers wiggle as she hyperventilates, cheeks puffing and deflating like she needs a paper bag. He huffs at the effort, “Help me roll her over!”
Stan’s knees groan as he joins his grephew in rolling his griece over. “I’m getting too old for this, kid.” He pushes on Mabel’s side, trying to roll her over. Finally, with Mabel thumping her tail and reaching with her flippers and both boys pushing, she’s able to land on the carpet belly-side down. They all slump in relief.
“Okay, so maybe it’s the Mystery Shack Mystery Milkshake,” Stan says.
Both Dipper and Mabel groan at that.
“Wait,” Stan says, “Why haven’t you transformed, Dipper?”
And he doesn’t know. He was the first to try it, and was one his third in as many days. Mabel lets out a distressed sound, and Dipper decides now isn’t the time to worry. For whatever reason, the people of Gravity Falls are becoming monsters, and it seems Dipper is either on borrowed time or immune. He can’t think about that now, not when he might be one of the few people who can actually stop this.
Chapter 2: Chapter 1
Notes:
Hey. Sorry for the wait! I've been busy with classes (biomedical sciences major) and trying to keep my word that I won't upload the second chapter until my friend uploaded for her own fic, and it's been long enough that I've given up on waiting! Enjoy the update!
Chapter Text
Dipper paces around the room, trying to ignore the way his voice rises with panic—he has enough to overthink right now. “So, everyone in Gravity Falls except for me, including my sister, has become a monster because of a milkshake? Do I have that right?” He pauses, allowing time for a response.
“Yes.” Stan says.
“Gruncle Ford is a Hydra,” Dipper says, pointing out the window to where the man in question has stood for around six hours now, officially far too reptilian and far too large to enter the shack. “Mabel’s a…” Dipper has no idea, honestly. Gruncle Ford’s journals only described things he had personally encountered, and he’d never encountered a creature like Mabel Pines. “Mabel’s a seal or something.” Mabel, the seal, barks loudly, as though in agreement. Dipper continues, “You’ve grown extra fingers,” he says, pointing to Stan’s hands, which are wrapped around a second beer can. A squeal from the floor reminds Dipper, “Waddles is a scarecrow,” the straw-stuffed pig licks the milkshake from the carpet unashamedly, “and you won’t tell us what’s in the Mystery Shack Mystery Milkshake?!”
“Well when you put it like that…” Stan says, “yes.”
Dipper facepalms, ignoring the way his forehead stings from the impact.
“Damn it, Sssssstaney,” Ford hisses, “Jusssst tell ussss.”
Dipper nods emphatically, “We have to turn everyone back!”
“Well…” Stan says, drawing out the “l” sound.
“Gruncle Stan.” Dipper says seriously, “My sister will kill you if she has to go to prom in flippers.”
Mabel barks in agreement.
“Oh, fine, but you’re going to be real disappointed,” Stan relents, “The Mystery Shack Mystery Milkshake’s Mystery Ingredient is water.”
There’s a moment of stunned silence.
“Water.” Dipper says, disbelieving.
“Water.” Stan confirms.
Again, the Shack falls silent.
“Sssssstanley,” Ford says carefully around the fangs in his many mouths. “Would thissssss water happen to be locally-sssssourccccced?”
“Why, are you a cop?” Stan asks.
Dipper asks, “Stan, where did you get this water from?”
“You know,” Stan says nonchalantly, “Around.”
“Wasssss it near the old quarry?” Ford says, “Jussssst passsst the ‘keep out’ sssssignssss and the ‘Danger, may irreverssssibly alter your sssstate of being’ ssssignsss?”
“Yeah, actually, how’d you know?” Stan says.
Dipper says, “Stan,” voice dripping with exasperation.
“What?” Stan says, “When you get up there in years like me, that sounds like a good time.”
“I ssssshould have dessstroyed that lake when I had the chanccce.”
“What’s going to happen to us Gruncle Ford?” Dipper asks.
Gruncle Ford hisses in frustration, “That’sssss jussst it. I don’t know!” He explains, “I noticccced sssome anomaliessss in the area and I blocked off access so I could safely study it later. Damn you, Sssstanley!”
“How was I supposed to know?” Stan says, “Sure, there was a squirrel with another squirrel fused to its tail, but conjoined twins are a perfectly natural thing.”
“Gruncle Stan,” Dipper says, “Right now everyone in Gravity Falls has become a monster. My uncle is a hydra, my sister is a seal, and somehow you’re our best chance of figuring this out. Please, take this seriously.”
Stan says, “I don’t know, do we even really know that the Mystery Shack Mystery Milkshake is to blame?”
“Damn it, Stan! Forget about the Mystery Shack Mystery Milkshake and just show us what you did already!”
“Fiiiine,” Stan whines, “But you’re totally signing an NDA after all of this.”
Dipper reminds him, “NDAs don’t cover illegal activity.”
“Who told you that?” Stan says, looking very suspicious.
Dipper gestures to the seal currently flapping her fins like wings, “Mabel.”
Stan shakes his head in disappointment, “And here I thought Mabel would follow in my footsteps someday. Only a year with your folks and she’s become a snitch instead.”
Mabel yells loudly in objection, but Stan only sighs, “Alright, let’s go.
“This is it?” Dipper says, looking around, “This is what caused all of this?” He’s looking at what appears to be a perfectly ordinary lake. Frogs croak along the bank out of sight and dragonflies skip across the water’s surface. Reeds grow along the lake’s edge in dense clusters, and Dipper is 99% sure his legs are covered in mosquito bites, but—
“Yup. Pretty normal, right?” Stan pulls aside what looks like a hunter’s gilly suit, revealing a hidden cooler beneath it. He pulls off the lid, showing his nephew that it’s full of somewhat cloudy ice. “I collect the water, freeze it, and blend it with an ice cream base and BAM—Mystery Shack Mystery Milkshake.”
“Your brilliant idea for a mystery flavor was to water down ice cream?”
Stan says defensively, “Well you didn’t guess that, did you? Besides, it tasted like vanilla!”
Dipper groans, he supposes he should have known Gruncle Stan wouldn’t buy when he could creatively advertise. “Okay, so we just need to take this back to Ford’s lab and then we’ll—” The sound of rustling foliage nearby gives him pause. “What was that?”
A moment later and Mabel appears! The strangest thing is how normal she seems—how human. Mabel says, “Hey, guys, so funny story—”
“Mabel! How are you human again?!” Dipper asks—no, demands.
Mabel says, “Sooo I was getting ready for Candy’s party tonight and I was looking for something cozy to wear. Obviously, I pulled out a sweater from my closet.”
“Obviously,” both Dipper and Stan say, despite the fact that she’s currently wearing a T-shirt.
“Well, I saw a sweater I didn’t ever remember wearing so I tried it on to see if it even fit and suddenly, POOF!” She does an exaggerated explosion gesture with both of her hands, “I was a seal! I managed to teach Waddles how to help me take it off and then I was human again.”
Dipper says, “Wait, if this is all because of the water, does that mean the water can change things other than people? Did you spill the milkshake on anything?”
“Ugh, yes!” Mabel says, looking quite upset, “I spilled the one I got this morning on my favorite sweater and it was like totally ruined! I threw it in the closet for future me to deal with and—Oh.”
“Crap,” Dipper says, “so even people who appear immune can still turn into monsters with the right exposure.” He sighs, looking from Mabel to Stan and back again, “That means I can’t do any of the testing myself without risking infection, and Ford’s not exactly up to the task himself right now.” Stan opens his mouth, but Dipper cuts him off, “That means you two will have to do it, and I’ll have to teach you.”
Mabel crinkles her nose in disgust, “But I hate science.”
Dipper sighs, “Let’s just get this cooler back to the Shack, alright? Help me carry this.”
All three Pineses crouch down and haul the cooler out of its hiding place.
So, Dipper has to admit, he might not be the best teacher. Mabel’s smart, but she has no interest in following a procedure, and even less patient. Stan, on the other hand, is great at figuring things out as he goes, but he wasn’t exactly studying pathology or microbiology when learning how to bring his brother back. It’s been a long time since Stan was out of his comfort zone, and it’s clear that he’s had quite enough of it. Dipper knows that they could do it, but he’s not sure that he can teach them how.
Dipper’s in the middle of trying, again, to explain what they’re supposed to do when he finally says, “Alright, we’re done for the day. I learn best on my own anyway, so let’s all sleep on it and figure this out tomorrow.”
“But, we still don’t know—”
“Actually,” Mabel says, “I still sorta have that party to go to. Could this wait until tomorrow?”
“You’re kidding.”
Silence.
“The entire town, except for me, has turned into monsters and you’re worried about a party?” Dipper thinks he might be insane, but quickly decides it’s everyone around him who’s lost their minds.
“Most people think it’s kinda cool, actually,” Soos says, looking up from his phone, “Everyone is talking about it online. People are coming from out of town to try out this milkshake themselves!” The man has become more canine, with large teeth, fluffy sideburns, and floppy ears—the perfect mixture of the lovable Mystery Shack’s manager and the classic Hollywood wolf-man.
Dipper says, “We can’t—You can’t—” He groans in defeat, “You all are really going to pretend this isn’t a problem?”
“Yup.” Soos says.
“Kinda,” Mabel agrees.
“I never really got what the big deal was to begin with,” Stan says, “A couple extra fingers never hurt anybody.”
The others file out, leaving Dipper behind to deal with the crushing realization that, once again, he’s the odd one out.
“Tomorrow,” Dipper says to himself, but even he doesn’t believe it.
Chapter 3: Chapter 2
Notes:
I live. Enjoy!
Chapter Text
“Tomorrow,” he says, when Mabel excitedly shows off her magic sweater that turns her (and just her, he’s tried wearing it himself only to find his skin suddenly very itchy) into a seal.
“Tomorrow,” he says, seeing Waddles start growing straw from his seams as he starts to look more and more like a scarecrow. The poor pig squealed in fright after catching sight of his reflection on more than one occasion, but he’d horrifyingly developed a habit of eating his own shed straw in an absurd act of self-cannibalism.
Stan discovers he’s something a little more than a twelve-fingered-Gruncle when he turns into Soos one day. He figures it out as he goes along, like he’s good at, and he now takes requests at the dinner table, shapeshifting into whoever and whatever amuses him. Dipper looks at a mirror image of himself and his twin before checking, “Tomorrow?”
They all promise, but he’s left alone in the lab once more when tomorrow comes. It’s been weeks and there’s nothing to do but seethe as he looks at the samples he can’t be exposed to, even indirectly.
“Marcus says I’m a selkie, Dipper, can you believe it?” Mabel says, “I googled it and, guess what? If someone takes my sweater, we’re like, totally magically married!”
Dipper startles, “What?”
“Yeah, it’s like some Scottish thing. Anyway, the point is, now I know how to tell if someone likes me! If I just ‘forget’ it somewhere, then I’ll know once they pick it up! It’s fool-proof!”
“What? No. Mabel!” Dipper’s voice does not crack. He urges, “We have to find a cure ASAP.”
Mabel says, “Okay, but can’t it wait until after I’m married?”
“No!” Dipper ignores the disappointed look on his sister’s face. “Mabel, you are way too young to get married and—”
“Lalalalalala!” Mabel yells, plugging her ears with her fingers to drown her brother out.
Dipper tries to pull her hands from her ears, but Mabel’s taller than him now, and she ducks away from his efforts easily. She laughs, rushing out the door before Dipper can get another word in.
“Tomorrow, my ass,” Dipper says pettily.
“Oh!” An elf asks him at Candy’s Summereen Party, “Are you dressed as a human? That’s pretty clever actually.” She sounds amused, smiling wide, “Summerween’s a little different when most of the costumes look like your friends and neighbors.”
“Haha,” Dipper says awkwardly, “Yeah.”
“Paisley,” the elf’s friend, a satyr, says, “He is human. It’s not a costume.”
“Oh!” Paisley says, looking apologetic, “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I didn’t think there were many of those these days. You must be lactose-intolerant or something, right? Tough luck!”
Dipper says, “I’m immune, actually. I think so, at least.” He gave into the temptation weeks ago, drinking more of the water and even splashing some on his hat. When that didn’t work, he dipped the whole thing into the cooler, which had long since thawed. No such luck. “I’m just a human.”
“Oh.” Paisley looks around awkwardly, unable to look Dipper in the eyes, “Um, enjoy the party!” She excuses herself from the interaction abruptly, grasping her friend by the elbow and pulling her away and to the dancefloor. Her pointed ears are just long enough to be seen peeking out between her black curls as she walks away.
Dipper takes a sip of his punch, which has a (hopefully) fake eyeball floating in the pink-red liquid. Last summer, Dipper would never have even questioned the likelihood that a drink contains human body parts, but when the host’s mom is a vampire, one can’t be too certain. It’s while he’s thinking about this that he suddenly hears a voice in his ear, “You’re immune?” The voice sounds like sandpaper against styrofoam, and Dipper isn’t afraid to admit he nearly spit out his drink.
Forcing a rough swallow, he turns to face the person addressing him, finding the speaker to be a very short (even shorter than Dipper) elderly woman that stares at him intensely. “Yup,” Dipper says, looking to the side to avoid staring at the hair sprouting from the wart on her cheek. He wonders if he’d be so bothered by the sight of monsters if he was one himself.
The woman’s hair is long and gray, though it is clearly close to falling apart, judging by the amount of split ends. The woman’s nails are long and yellowed as well, though it is clear they have at least been clipped and filed somewhat recently. She wears rings on many of her fingers, though none appear to be a wedding band. She says, “You’ve got to be working on a cure, right?” She seems surprisingly vibrant for such an old woman, grasping one of Dipper’s hands with both of hers, “Do you have one already? Is that why you’re immune?”
Dipper jerks his hands away from her, “Uh, I’m in the process of—”
“Cut the crap, Dipper,” she says, “How can I help?”
Something about the blatant disregard for both manners and Dipper’s feelings seems to ring a bell somewhere in the back of Dipper’s mind. “Do I know you?”
The woman groans, “Yes. I get that I look different now but—”
Dipper looks closer at the woman’s face, trying to solve her like one of his mysteries. Her round face is on display with a handkerchief pulling her hair back and out of the way. Pearl earrings sit perfectly in the center of her lobes, betraying a need for perfection that would rival even Dipper. It’s when he notices that odd coloring of her eyes, a brown with a warm gold undertone, and a faint purple dusting on the lids that he figures it out.
“Pacifica?”
“Say it a little louder,” she suggests, “I don’t think the people in New York heard you.”
Dipper scrambles, “What happ—When did you—What are you?”
Pacifica says, “My best guess is a hag. If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather be a teenage girl.”
“Right, yeah, I mean… I should shut up.”
“Nuh-uh,” she says, “You should keep talking about this supposed immunity of yours. What do you know?”
“Not much,” Dipper admits, “Just that I’ve probably had more of this milkshake than anybody in town but none of the effects. If you’d follow me to the Shack, I could show you what I’ve found?”
“Please.” She says, clearly desperate for a cure, or even an escape, “If I have to spend another minute in Candy’s house waiting for the moment her mom decides to eat me, I might just die.”
Dipper snorts, “That is what happens when one is attacked by a vampire.”
“Less talking, more walking.” She pushes him toward the door, totally uncaring of the splash of punch that stains his shirt. His indignant hey goes ignored.
“So… I’ve become a decrepit, old hag—”
“All three of those words mean the same thing,” Dipper supplies, and is immediately ignored.
“—because Stan was too cheap to fund a gimmick? Oh, when I get the FDA on the phone, he’ll be finished!”
Dipper says, “I’ve tried calling them. They’re staying out of it since he technically didn’t get anyone sick and he advertised the ingredients as locally sourced.”
“That makes no sense!”
Dipper shrugs, “I’ve also sent some of the water samples for analysis at some nearby testing facilities. I also asked several universities for help, but I’m only thirteen so they won’t talk to me without a parent or legal guardian and…” he gestures at their surroundings, “Stan I think technically counts, but he’s not interested in anything but his profits and my parents haven’t picked up the phone since we left.”
“Oh my god are they okay?” Pacifica asks.
Dipper forgot, for a moment, that as awful as Pacifica’s parents are, they still remember she exists. “Yeah, they’re fine. They’re these kind of…” He struggles to think of a word for it, “They try to avoid us during the school breaks. They’re not really into parenting. They do all the things they need to when they need to, but once someone else has agreed to be in charge of us, Mabel and I are on our own.”
“That… makes a lot of sense,” Pacifica says.
“What do you mean?” Dipper asks.
Pacifica shrugs, “I guess I just understand you and Mabel better now. My parents never let me make a choice. Yours let you make too many.”
“I go back and forth on whether or not I think it’s a bad thing,” Dipper says, “I think I would have gone crazy if my parents were normal.”
Pacifica lets the subject drop, “So what did the labs say?”
Dipper pulls up the report, “The left column is the compound detected, the middle is the expected percent composition based on geographic location, and the rightmost column shows the measured percent composition.”
Pacifica eyes the screen in silence for a minute or two before coming to the same realization as Dipper, “The total percentages exceed the realm of possibility.”
“Exactly!” Dipper says, “We somehow have more matter and mass in the sample than the total initial sample mass.”
“The reports have to be wrong,” Pacifica says, “Have you heard back from the other labs? They might have had bad equipment.”
Dipper pulls up the remaining reports, “There’s slight variance, as can be expected when using different samples from a nonhomogenous mixture, but even so—”
“There’s still too much substance.”
“It completely defies the logic of the test and, unless there’s something I’m missing, several laws of physics and chemistry.”
Pacifica asks, “Have you tested tissues exposed to the water?”
Dipper says, “Only in myself. I’d need a control and a willing subject to—”
Pacifica interrupts, “I’m willing. What do you want? Blood? Skin? Hair? Spit?”
“Are you alright, Pacifica?” Dipper asks, hesitantly, “You’ve never really been interested in my nerd stuff before.”
Pacifica says, “I never said I wasn’t interested,” she looks away, crossing her arms, “but when your parents kick you out and you have to move in with the most irritatingly nice person you’ve ever met just because you look like you’ve clawed your way out of a nursing home, you become a little obsessive.”
“Wait.” Dipper says, “That’s why you were at Candy’s party? You live there?”
“Temporarily,” she says.
There are many things Dipper wants to say to that. Instead he says, “We have room. Here. At the shack. Ford can’t really use his room right now, I’m sure he’d understand if you stay with us.”
Pacifica looks momentarily surprised because she controls her expression again, “I’ll think about it. I’m not sure what’s worse—sharing a house with the guy who did this to me or having to convince your host family that your blood would taste bad.”
Chapter 4: Chapter 3
Chapter Text
Mabel should feel a little worse about blowing off her brother, but she knows he isn’t ready to consider that not every question demands an answer. That’s the thing about people like Dipper and Gruncle Ford: a hypothesis requires assumptions based on observation on the part of the researcher, and neither really invests the time it takes to question those assumptions before they investigate the hypothesis.
Mabel understands science better than Dipper thinks she does. She listens when he talks, but that doesn’t mean it interests her. She’s a better listener than Dipper, at least. Her brother still can’t imagine why she doesn’t want to be cured of something she doesn’t consider to be a disease.
Mabel’s always been special. Mabel has often delighted in it, as well as the attention it brought her. Dipper is a genius, but Mabel is good. The unicorn might not have considered her “pure of heart” or whatever, which was admittedly soul-crushing at the time, but anyone who has ever crossed her path would struggle to describe her as anything but bright. And not in that mildly condescending, even if entirely sincere, way that they might apply the term to Dipper—Mabel is a star, a source of warmth and light and hope.
She is also a little lonely sometimes. Many stars exist in binary systems—the majority, even, and some may have multiple partners to share their light with. They orbit around one another, and draw others in with their sheer combined force. Mabel has always struggled to find somebody who could match and balance her in that way. Having Dipper around helped, but she knew one day he’d drift away from her, called away by his own ambitions, curiosity, and “maturity.”
Mabel can be mature too. She can be soooo mature.
In fact, now that Mabel’s a selkie, she can even be a wife!
Candy’s party is a little crowded for Mabel’s taste. She used to think she wanted the crowds and the spotlight, when she came here last summer, but she’s realized that she prefers the comfort of a few friends. She misses spending time with Candy, Grenda, and even Pacifica (though she rarely hung out with them, often only tagging along when she knew Dipper would be there). Mabel will have to make more private plans soon. For now, she plans to take advantage of the occasion.
Hiding behind the back of the couch, she watches intensely as people walk past the punch bowl, where assorted snacks and trinkets have been left for people to take. Among these items is Mabel’s own sweater.
Yes, that sweater.
She used to create elaborate schemes and orchestrate confused confessions, but those only earned her several gnomes in a trenchcoat (metaphorically) and a con artist with a passion for the paranormal and a strangely elaborate hair routine. Now, she’s decided to keep things simple and leave things to fate.
Whoever picks up that sweater will be hers—her binary star. She’ll simply have to ask for it back, and they’ll be married in accordance with selfie customs. And she knows that Candy would never invite someone who would be unworthy of her affections. Candy might not be intentionally playing matchmaker, but Candy is absolutely the type to keep good company, and to not waste her time on anyone less than that. Mabel trusts Candy.
Maybe it’s a little odd that Mabel is lying in wait like an ambush predator, but what can she say?
She is a monster.
“What are we doing?” A familiar voice says from just behind Mabel, and she doesn’t even have to look to know exactly who it is.
“Awaiting marriage proposals,” Mabel answers.
Grenda says, “Uh. Can I bring Marius as my plus one to your wedding?”
“Only when we renew our vows when I turn 18,” Mabel says, “That’s the earliest I can have the traditional human ceremony.”
Grenda makes an agreeing sound. “Alright. I’ll tell Marius to clear his schedule.” She says, “Who is proposing?”
Mabel says, “I’m not sure yet. I was hoping for Rodney Badgit, but he hasn’t looked at me once since we all became monsters.”
“Isn’t he a gorgon? I don’t think he’s been looking at anyone.” Grenda says.
Mabel says, “What does that have to do with anything? I don’t care about the snakes.”
Grenda says, “He’s not good enough for you anyway.”
“Awww, thanks Grenda.” Mabel says, turning to look back at her friend, “That’s so sweet! Speaking of,” Mabel stands on her tiptoes and leans to see behind Grenda, “Where’s Candy? I thought she was with you.”
Grenda shrugs, “She left to go invite her mom inside. Apparently vampires can’t enter anywhere without an invite, even if they own the place? I’d hate to be a vampire.”
Mabel says, “I dunno, it’d be cool to turn into a bat.” She shrugs, “I’d rather turn into a seal though. PLUS being a selkie doesn’t come with any of the downsides like having to drink blood—YUCK.”
Grenda says, “Mrs. Chiu used to be a vegetarian before all of this. It must suck to have to give that up.”
“Ha!” Mabel says.
Grenda says, “Where did your sweater go?”
Mabel says, “It’s over there on the table—” When she turns to gesture to it, however, she realizes that it’s gone, “Well it was on the table.” She looks around to see if anyone’s looking for her (she had left a note saying that the sweater was Mabel’s property, and had even included a picture of herself to help a good samaritan return her property.
“Grenda.”
“Mabel.”
“We have to find it!” Mabel says, “Oh my gosh, Gruncle Stan is going to kill me if I lost my sweater at some party!”
Grenda says, “I think he’d be more concerned that someone stole from you. He’s too proud to let the insult stand.”
“Come on, Grenda,” Mabel says, grabbing Grenda by the hairy hand (she had taken on a vaguely sasquatch-y shape thanks to the milkshake, though they’ve yet to figure out which species Grenda would belong to) and dragging her into the crowd. “It’s like… off-white? There are grayish brown spots on the shoulders and back—you know, like a seal?”
“The thief can’t have gotten too far,” Grenda says, “We would have noticed if someone grabbed it and dashed.”
“Yeah,” Mabel says.
Candy’s quiet voice startles them both, “Thief? Did someone steal something?”
Mabel jumps several feet in the air, safely landing in Grenda’s arms, who had already been prepared to catch her. Stepping back down onto the floor, “Yes! Someone took my—”
“Mabel.” Grenda says, cutting her off.
Mabel stops, taking a moment to look for whatever Grenda noticed. Candy takes advantage of the pause to explain, “I found your sweater, by the way.” She holds it out for Mabel to take, “You forgot it by the punch bowl.”
Mabel’s stunned silent. How did she not consider the possibility of this?
“I checked, just in case, but I don’t think anything got spilled on it.” Candy continues, “You should be more careful!”
Mabel doesn’t know what to do.
Mabel’s done a lot of research on selkies. While she doesn’t believe selkies were explicitly restricted to females, she had only ever read about men retrieving a selkie’s lost skin. She had been half convinced that women couldn’t find and return a selkie’s skin. Would it count the same? Would taking the sweater back be an acceptance of the proposal? Would letting Candy keep it count as a marriage as well? A sweater ties a selkie to its bearer, so long as the person does not lose or return it. What is that if not a wedding ring?
“Mabel?” Candy says, sounding and looking confused. The fairy flutters her wings for a couple beats, as though fidgeting while she considers running away from the situation. Candy has been too busy with party preparations and hosting Pacifica to talk to Mabel about the intricacies of selkie marriage. She doesn’t know what she’s done, what she’s suggesting.
Mabel should tell Candy. She should tell Candy to abandon the sweater somewhere, but she can’t bring herself to say the words. Why shouldn’t she accept Candy? Candy’s wonderful! One of her best friends! And Candy would be a great spouse! She’d certainly be better than someone like Rodney Badgit! It’s not Candy’s fault that Mabel put her in this situation, and Mabel shouldn’t turn her down just because Mabel had made a mistake. Candy doesn’t deserve to have her first proposal rejected, and she doesn’t deserve to be divorced either.
Mabel accepts the sweater back, “Thanks, Candy! I was looking for it!”
Candy smiles, “Of course. Now, you said something about a thief?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Mabel says, “I think it was a misunderstanding.”
“Oh, okay.” Candy says, “I should go check if we need more snacks, I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time,” Mabel says.
Once she’s gone, predictably, Grenda freaks out. “Mabel! What just happened?”
Mabel hushes her, keeping her voice just low enough to be heard over the music and the crowd, “Candy found my sweater and returned it, that’s all.”
“Uh, that’s not all.” Grenda says, lowering her voice as well, “You know as well as I do what you two just did. You’re married, Mabel.”
She doesn’t deny it. “Yes, we are.”
“And she doesn’t know.” Grenda says.
“She doesn’t have to. Nothing will change.”
“What do you mean? You’re married. My two best friends are married and you’re acting like it’s not a big deal.”
Mabel says, “Candy doesn’t deserve to have to worry about all this weird selkie stuff. And she’s so nice. Do you really think she wouldn’t be upset if she found out what that means? She’d feel like she wronged me by touching my sweater in the first place, even though it was my fault. And I would feel bad if I rejected her just because she’s a girl or my best friend. Besides, who says we can’t be married AND best friends? That’s like, totally lame.”
“I don’t know about this, Mabel.” Grenda says, “What if Candy finds out?”
Mabel says, “She won’t. Only we know she had my sweater in the first place, and neither of us will tell her, right?”
“Right,” Grenda reluctantly agrees.
“I’m married,” Mabel says, adjusting to her new reality, “I have a wife.”
Grenda nods, also processing.
“Candy is my wife.”
Grenda nods.
“Candy is my wife,” Mabel says again, unable to stop her smile, “I’m so lucky.”
So much better than Rodney Badgit.
Candy returns, “Did I miss something?”
Grenda, who has never had much of a filter, says, “Hey, if I could only be your Maid of Honor or Mabel’s, whose would I be?”
Candy looks confused, “Why couldn’t you be both of our Maid of Honors?”
Mabel speaks up before Grenda can dig herself a deeper hole, “We were talking about double weddings, so Grenda is asking about if you and I got married at the same time. She’s worried about which bridal party she’d be part of.”
“Oooooh,” Candy says, like that makes any sense, “Well, we’d share her, obviously.”
Mabel says, “See? Nothing to worry about, Grenda.”
Grenda says, “As long as I can still bring Marius.”
Mabel laughs, “Yes, you can bring Marius.”
Candy says, “Do you two want to ditch the party? I know we have candy here but… well it’s not Summerween without Trick or Treating, you know?”
“HELL YEAH!” Grenda says.
Much better than Rodney Badgit.
Chapter 5: Chapter 4
Chapter Text
Pacifica Northwest taps her nails against the counter, trying not to look at her extended arm or the needle Dipper is inserting into her vein. She hums to herself as a distraction, and nearly jolts when Dipper starts whistling a lot. When she turns to look at him, Dipper stops, asking, “What? You looked nervous.”
“Oh,” Pacifica says, “Yeah, I get weird about needles. Mom took me to get some microneedling when I started getting really bad acne and it freaked me out. Now the doctor gives me lollipops whenever I get a shot and it’s soooooo embarrassing."
Dipper, wisely, doesn’t comment on how odd it is for a thirteen year old to be microneedling. Instead he says, “I’m already finding some pretty interesting stuff,” he draws blood from her vein into the tube, “like, most older people have a harder time with blood draws because the veins get thin or stiff or a million other things, but your veins are totally fine. They’d be healthy, teenage veins.”
“Weird,” Pacifica says, “I mean, I guess I noticed that like, I didn’t have back pain or anything, despite having a hunch now, but I didn’t really think about the implications.”
Dipper thinks for a moment, quietly removing the needle and capping the tube. He grabs a sharpie to label the outside of it before saying, “I’m wondering if that means your blood will be normal too. If it just affected the surface stuff, like skin and hair, that’d be a start for finding a cure.”
Pacifica feels the hope building in her chest, despite not wanting to get her heart broken. “Do you think it’ll be that simple?”
“I don’t know.” He admits, “I’ve got to have this sent off to the lab first to find out, but we might be able to get some imaging done if we can find a lab and a ride.”
“What, you didn’t invent teleportation while you were at school?” Pacifica says sarcastically.
Dipper laughs, “Actually, I was arguing with my math teacher about theoretical physics.”
“Did you win?” Pacifica asks, already fully believing that he did.
Dipper says, “Let’s just say, it quickly became evident why they weren’t a physics teacher.”
Pacifica rolls her eyes. “Nerd.”
Dipper raises a brow, “I’m sorry, who asked me to bring them here to be a lab rat? We’re in this together now, Pacifica.”
“I guess,” Pacifica says. “Thank you, by the way.”
“For what?” Dipper asks.
“For helping me,” she says, “I’ve just… felt so alone ever since this happened,” she gestures to the state of her face, which looks just shy of a pale green leather in this lighting. “I appreciate it.”
Dipper says, “Don’t mention it.”
Pacifica looks around while he starts sterilizing and organizing his workspace, putting the blood on ice for transport to the lab who has agreed to help him with his research. She says, mostly to fill the silence, “It must be pretty nice to be immune, right?” She laughs, “Definitely nice to not have to adjust to a new body or face or whatever.”
“I guess,” Dipper says, “but not everyone views this whole mess as a problem to be solved. People like Stan and Mabel are thrilled, but even people like Gruncle Ford or Soos are getting used to this being the new normal. Ever since Weirdmageddon, it’s as though people are over normal. It’s too boring. Too ordinary.”
“I didn’t ask what everyone else thought,” she says, “I asked how you felt about it.”
Dipper admits, “I don’t really know. I don’t like that I don’t know why I’m immune.”
Pacifica says, “I guess that would be a little lonely too.”
“What do you mean?”
She shrugs, “I’ve been so busy trying to be human again that I didn’t really think about what it would be like to be the only one. It’s a bit like being left behind, isn’t it?”
Dipper looks lost in thought for a moment, like he’s remembering that his sister’s still at Candy’s party, and that she likely didn’t even notice he left. “Yeah, I guess it is.”
When the lab space is cleaned and Pacifica expects to be sent back to Candy’s house any moment now, she gets an idea of how to stay a little longer. Pacifica says, “Do you have any candy?”
“What?” Dipper asks, looking surprised at the abrupt subject change.
“It’s Summerween,” she points out, “and we’re the only ones in town not celebrating. Even Stan is hosting a haunted house thing with Soos. Soos! Soos is a total scared-wolf and he’s still in the Summerween spirit. We should be eating candy.”
Dipper says, “I forgot you weren’t there for our last Summerween.”
“What happened?” Pacifica asks, intrigued.
He starts, “In retrospect it wasn’t the weirdest thing that happened last summer, but Mabel and I made the mistake of insulting some candy--you know, the kind that you try to trade away but no one wants it? Well, the candy decided to fight back and turn into this giant monster thing. It ate Gorney.”
“Oh my god, what?” Pacifica says, “That kid that lives by the abandoned convenience store?”
“Oh that’s a whole other story,” Dipper says, “but I’ll have to tell you that one another time. I think we have some candy upstairs if you still wanted some? Just promise me that you won’t insult any of it. Not even if it’s licorice.”
“I promise,” Pacifica says, not wanting to end up like Gorney.
Upstairs, Pacifica is enjoying some weird, mango-tango flavored cream soda gummy thing (Stan got it on sale, Dipper says, which checks out since while it doesn’t taste that bad, she has no idea who would buy it at full price) while Dipper sorts out a pile of Fun Dip for when Mabel gets home. He’s still working on some Milk Duds which he’s trying not to get stuck in his teeth but Pacifica thinks that’s probably a lost cause.
“I’m sorry, Dipper,” Pacifica says.
Around a mouth full of Milk Duds, Dipper says, “What?” He’s been saying that a lot tonight, but Pacifica supposes she has too. Tonight’s the first time they’ve not had a ghost or demon to fight, so it’s really the first time they’ve just… talked.
Pacifica says, “I’m sorry that I didn’t become your friend sooner. I would have totally helped you fight off a candy monster.”
Dipper waves a hand dismissively, “It’s fine. You helped us fight off a demon intending multidimensional world domination so I’d say your work is done.”
“Sure,” Pacifica says, but she doesn’t really think Dipper gets what she means. She had been so awful to him and Mabel last summer, especially when they first came to town and she was annoyed that Mabel was so bright and Dipper was so interesting.
She’d felt like less, despite having so much more, because she needed all of those things and all of that money to even pretend people liked to be around her. Had she realized it sooner, she could have been their friend. She might already know about the candy monster or abandoned convenience store or why Mabel has a scrapbook that includes Dipper’s chest hair. But instead she has to learn about it slowly, like she’s racing to keep up and picking up the breadcrumbs they leave along the way.
“What do you usually do for Summerween?” Dipper asks, “Do you dress up?”
She shrugs, “I probably would have stayed home and watched horror movies.”
“You like horror movies?” Dipper asks.
“What does that mean?” Pacifica says, catching the odd tone.
Dipper says, “I would not have had you pegged for a horror fan. I mean, you couldn’t even handle the little bit of blood earlier.”
“I told you already, it was the needle I didn’t like! And what’s wrong with liking horror movies?!”
Before Dipper can answer, the front door opens, and the squeal of a straw-stuffed pig with a stake tied around its back signals the arrival of Mabel Pines. Mabel has barely set foot in the house before she zeroes in on the Fun Dip waiting for her on the counter. She zooms over and scoops it up like there might be a fight for it, despite neither Dipper nor Pacifica reaching for it. Mabel says, “Yeeessssss. I’m so glad that they made a knock off brand. It doesn’t have the same flavor as the real stuff, but it’s still great.” She pours the powder from one packet into her mouth before chasing it with the white candy stick. She looks from Dipper to Pacifica, then back again, “This is Pacifica, right?”
Pacifica nods.
“Good,” Mabel says, “Candy’s mom is feeling a little extra hungry so I was going to suggest you spend the night, but I couldn’t find you at the party, so Dipper must have beat me to it.”
Dipper corrects, “Actually, we were working on that cure together, but I did offer for Pacifica to stay with us if she needed.”
Mabel nods, “Good.” She starts to walk away, then stops, “Wait, you’re still working on cure stuff?”
“Uh, yeah?” Dipper says.
“Oh,” his twin says, “I totally forgot about that.” She shrugs, “Let me know if you need any help, I guess, but I’m married now so I might be busy taking care of my wife.”
“Uh, what?” Dipper Pines squawks, slamming his knee into a cabinet and swearing loudly. “Mabel, we talked about this!”
Mabel plugs her ears, loudly chanting lalalala while she runs toward the ladder that leads to their room in the attic. Dipper groans, turning to Pacifica, “I’ll show you where the spare sheets and stuff are so we can prepare Ford’s room for you.”
“Okay, thank you,” Pacifica says, trying desperately not to laugh at these strange siblings and their even stranger antics. “Shame she didn’t invite you to the wedding.”
Dipper, who had been reaching into a closet to retrieve some bedding, grabs a pillow and throws it at Pacifica, managing to hit her squarely in the face, where he was no doubt aiming. “Can it, Pacifica, or I might just invite Candy’s mom in here and let her eat you.”
“You wouldn’t,” she says confidently.
“Try me,” he says, challenging her to call his bluff.
Pacifica lets the subject drop.
Yeah, she thinks, I wish I’d been friends with you sooner.
Chapter 6: Chapter 5
Notes:
Hi! I know I've been posting a lot recently, and I hope you've all been enjoying that! I'm about to start a new job, so please expect slower updates, but I think we're about at the halfway point now, so I'm hoping to be done by the new year! Enjoy the chapter!
Chapter Text
Dipper Pines spends the day after Summerween looking for something to do. He was supposed to meet Wendy, but she’s a Valkyrie now and discovered that walking past the cemetery is not something she can do anymore. When Dipper went looking for her once it became apparent that she was held up along the way, he discovered her digging up graves with seemingly no idea why and no ability to stop. Dipper had tried to intervene, but another Valkyrie appeared as though sent by Odin himself and warned him against interfering with the affairs of Valhalla. He had apologized to Wendy, but she didn’t seem to hear him, so he left her to it and hoped he wouldn’t regret it later.
That’s how he ended up alone at Greasy’s Diner pretending Lazy Susan’s story was half as entertaining as she thought. The well-meaning cyclops spent most of her time talking about her cats, and whatever time she wasn’t was spent telling Dipper about her friends Meredith, Cindy, and Dolores and their ongoing feud with a “not-so-nice lady” named Ethel who somehow managed to win every week at Bingo. Dipper was just glad that during his year away, she seemed to have gotten over her short-lived romance with his Gruncle Stan.
“What sort of monster are you, anyway?” Susan ‘call me Sue’ Wentworth asks when it occurs to her that she can’t identify him at a glance like she can most of her patrons.
Dipper says, “The boring kind.”
Susan guesses, “An abatwa, then? It would explain why you’re so much shorter than your sister.”
“I’m not short!” Dipper argues, but Susan takes it as confirmation.
“Definitely an abatwa.” Susan says.
“I dunno, Sue,” a younger waitress says, “he seems more like a basajuan. He spends an awful lot of time in the woods and caves around here.”
Susan hums, tapping a finger on her chin in thought. She lights up when the bell on the door jingles, signaling the arrival of another patron, “Tambry! There’s my favorite human,” she says, not realizing that she’s totally upending Dipper’s entire worldview, “What do you think Littlest Pines here is? I think he’s an abatwa, but Jill thinks he’s a basajuan. I would have thought he was human, but I saw him drink the milkshake on live tv!”
“Human?” Dipper says, turning to look at the pink-haired teenager who joins him at the bar—taking a seat on the stool next to his. She’s texting on her phone. A brief glance at the screen tells Dipper that it’s a Robbie, and Dipper is a little surprised to see that their relationship survived their junior year of high school.
She says, “Yeah, apparently it’s a little-known side effect of lactose intolerance.”
Dipper feels himself deflate a little at the apparent confirmation that she’s not immune, but he’s relieved not to be the only human anymore. “I didn’t know you were lactose intolerant.”
“That’s probably because I tend to push my luck. Speaking of,” she looks at Susan, “could I get the two for one chili cheese fries?” When the woman leaves to call out the order to the chef, Tambry looks over at Dipper, “Did you want some? Or are you lactose intolerant too?”
“Uh, no—I mean, yes, I’d like some, but no, I’m not lactose intolerant.” Dipper says. “How did you know I wasn’t…” He trails off, but Tambry seems to understand him anyway.
“A monster?” She laughs, “Dipper, respectfully, you are one of the weirdest little dudes I’ve ever met. You’d be something no one’s ever even heard of as a monster. And yet, here you are.”
Dipper admits, “You seem so sure about that.”
Tambry gives him a questioning look.
Dipper elaborates, “What makes you so sure that I’d be… I don’t know, weird?”
“I guess it’s possible that the milkshake would surprise us, but I don’t think it would.” She says, “I guess I just know? I mean. You faced down poltergeists and won. You faced the end of the world and won. I watched you do it.”
Dipper digests that for a moment, hardly acknowledging the arrival of Tambry’s fries. She scarfs them down, evidently not that concerned about the cheese or her own body’s eventual betrayal. Dipper says, “I’m immune. I drank more of the milkshake than anybody I know. I work directly with the active ingredient every day. I’ve gone out of my way to infect myself and I’ve yet to figure out why it failed. All of that, and I’m still just human.”
Tambry looks at him.
It kinda pisses him off that she isn’t saying something. Sure, Tambry’s never been the most talkative of their group, but she’s seemed so much more open since Robbie. How can she just know things about Dipper without a thing to back it up?
“Have some fries before I eat them all,” she says, as though Dipper hadn’t said a word.
Dipper starts to get up, having already paid his bill and exhausted his patience, but she stops him with a hand on his shoulder and a plain, “Sit down.”
He does, admitting to himself that it isn’t Tambry’s fault that he’s immune. “Sorry, I’ve just been really frustrated. Pacifica’s helping me find answers, but we’re waiting on lab results and I hate not knowing.”
“Yeah, I know.” She says, “All of you Pineses have so many questions. You all are really tenacious and stubborn and quick to anger and that’s amazing, Dipper. That’s why I know you aren’t a basajuan or an abatwa or whatever else the waitresses may come up with.”
Something clicks in Dipper’s head when she says that. He takes a fry, swallowing it down before he asks, “Tambry, what is Robbie?”
“A vampire,” she says, like it’s obvious.
It is obvious.
“And what about Thompson?”
“Nephilim.” Sounds just like him, larger than life and still terrified of shadows. He is both too good for the people around him and yet desperate to find his place among them.
“Tambry,” he says, “do you think the milkshake is turning people into monsters depending on their personality?”
Tambry shrugs, “Maybe? I think it’s just distorting them.”
“What do you mean?” Dipper asks, happy to have someone to talk theory with. While Pacifica is a great help and clearly eager to learn, she’s not really popular enough with the locals to really know them meaningfully, let alone know how that may have influenced the milkshake’s effect.
Tambry says, “Well, it just doesn’t make sense if it’s that straightforward. Robbie hates being a vampire. He’s not really a fan of sunshine and roses, but he likes having the choice to leave the house or show up unannounced. And while I don’t mind feeding him every once in a while,” the admission draws Dipper to her neck, where she’s clearly covered a bite wound with makeup, “he hates needing it. He hates having to be taken care of and keeps thinking that I’m being taken advantage of. And Susan’s a cyclops. Can you really tell me that she matches the stories? Do you think she’s got a single violent bone in her body?”
Well, no. While she may keep cats like Polyphemus kept sheep, he thinks the similarities end there, aside from the obvious with her lazy eye.
“So, you think that the personality or notable qualities of a subject may influence the form they assume, but that there may be other factors that influence it as well?” Dipper says.
Tambry nods, reaching for another fry only to find that she already finished the last of them. “Boooooo. I’d order another one, but that’d probably be pushing it. Wanna come with me to go say hi to Robbie? He’ll like having a friend over, even if it’s you.”
“Ow,” Dipper says, though he fully understands that his relationship with Robbie can be volatile at the best of times, even without a crush on Wendy to come between them.
Tambry says, “Don’t pretend you don’t know exactly why you two don’t always get along. Think you can be mature enough not to kick him while he’s down?”
“Yeah,” Dipper says, drawing out the vowel in defeat, “It’s not like I have anything else to do today. My plans kinda got canceled by order of the All-Father.”
“Poor Wendy,” she says, “she hates having to be so badass all the time. Being a Valkyrie is basically her worst nightmare.
Dipper stands up while Tambry pays her bill and leaves a tip for Susan. He says, “It’s so weird how different people feel about this. Stan and Mabel are having the times of their lives. Susan and Candy and Soos seem totally indifferent. And then you have people like Pacifica and Ford and Robbie and apparently Wendy who would rather be human again.”
Tambry shrugs, “Isn’t that true for everything? Every person is different, so every person feels different.”
“I guess I just don’t understand because, like,” he tries to think of how to explain it, “I don’t want to be a monster, necessarily. I like being human. But I still hate that, until now, I thought I was the only one. And even though I’m not the only human, I am the only one who’s somehow immune and I hate it. I hate being a ‘weird little dude.’ I just want to be Dipper.”
“And that’s totally fair,” she says, “I hated being Tanner, even though it felt like everyone wanted me to be. It wasn’t until I realized that I could be Tambry instead that I stopped comparing myself to everyone else.”
“Wait, what?” Dipper says, stopping and looking Tambry up and down, “You’re trans?”
Tambry says, “You didn’t know? I thought that was why Wendy brought you along to our hangouts. I knew that wasn’t why you came, but I thought that I was supposed to be like… a role model or something.”
“She never told me,” Dipper says, “but I guess she told you about me?”
Tambry shakes her head, “No, actually. Stan had hung up pictures of you and Mabel as little kids in the shack. I noticed that one of the kids cut their hair and started going by Mason so I knew.”
Dipper’s surprised to hear that Stan had considered him and Mabel part of his life long before they ever thought of him at all, let alone as family. He says, “I’m surprised no one said anything. I’ve heard that small towns can be weird about that kind of stuff.”
“Maybe some are,” Tambry says, “but not Gravity Falls.”
Dipper’s learning that more and more every day. He’s starting to wonder how he’ll ever leave when the summer ends.
Chapter 7: Chapter 6
Notes:
HEEEEEYYYYY :) I've returned! I promise it wasn't my fault this time. My laptop simply decided to stop working and several keys became completely useless, even with cleaning and resetting. Examples include "e", "5", "%", "6", "^", "-", "_", left control, etc. Other keys were also affected, but they were inconsistent rather than outright broken. Eventually, I decided to wait until my new laptop arrived to continue writing, but it took OVER A MONTH. I am never ordering from HP again, I swear. Regardless, I sincerely hope you're excited for the return of this story and that you enjoy the chapter!
Chapter Text
It took some time, and some help from Mabel, for Pacifica to decide to accept Dipper’s offer of temporarily moving into the shack. She waves to Ford, who is soaking up the sun in the yard with bent elbows (knees?) like a lizard. Ford greets politely, “Good morning, Paccccccifica.” He’s figured out how to synchronize his three heads to cut down on the eerie echo of his own speech, but he still hasn’t figured out how to stop the hissing of his “s” sounds.
Mabel, seemingly reading her thoughts, tells her, “He’s getting ready for his virtual speech therapy appointment.”
“Oh,” Pacifica says, telling Ford, “good luck with that!”
“Thankssssssss,” he says, then looks quite disappointed with himself before correcting it to, “Thank you.”
“Hey!” Mabel says, “Your therapist said not to avoid your ‘s’-es and blends. It sets bad habits.”
Ford looks unimpressed.
Pacifica says, “I hope you don’t mind that I’ll be borrowing your room for a bit? I’d take the couch but—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Ford says, “I barely usss—” He stops, slowing his speech and carefully sounding out, “I barely used it before, now I don’t at all.” The pronunciation isn’t perfect, but it is better. It sounds more like braces than forked tongues or buzzing bees. He looks rather pleased with himself, and Pacifica can’t help but smile at the smugness.
“Still,” Pacifica says, “Thank you.”
“Come on, Pacifica,” Mabel says, grabbing Pacifica by the elbow and tugging her toward the shack, “I’m supposed to go walk Candy to the library and I am not going to be late.”
Pacifica says, “Can’t Candy fly? Why would she be walking?”
Mabel gasps, “I didn’t even think about that.”
Pacifica sort of regrets asking. She hadn’t meant it in a bad way, but she knows that Mabel has really been trying to be a good wife, even if Candy has no idea that’s why Mabel keeps spending so much one on one time with her. Really, even if Candy couldn’t fly, she has walked to and from the library her whole life, she doesn’t need Mabel’s supervision. Seeing the distressed look on Mabel’s face at the realization that Mabel might be preventing Candy from doing something as amazing as flying to the library, Pacifica feels bad.
“I’m sure she’s happy you’re going with her,” Pacifica says, though she knows from living with the fairy that Candy is utterly baffled by Mabel’s sudden clinginess. Candy hadn’t complained about the change. She just questioned it.
“You’re right,” Mabel says, “anyway, let me show you to your room. I’ll let you unpack but I’ll come back and help you later if Dipper isn’t back yet.”
“What is Dipper up to anyway?” Pacifica asks, “You two are usually joint at the hip, aren’t you?”
Mabel waves a hand dismissively, “I told him to start making plans with friends sometimes. He was starting to have that ‘stale lab smell’ from spending so much time in the basement and he’d barely even texted his friends since the milkshake rollout.”
“So, he’s out with Wendy?” Pacifica guesses. Dipper had other friends in Gravity Falls, but usually Wendy or Pacifica was involved. If Pacifica wasn’t, it was fair to assume that Wendy was.
“Probably,” Mabel says, shrugging.
Pacifica asks, “Does Wendy like me? I’m not sure we’ve really talked since Weirdmaggedon, aside from when she’s working.”
“I don’t think she dislikes you,” Mabel says, “Wendy’s like, the best, and weirdly forgiving—if I had dated Robbie and he started feuding with some little kid about it, I don’t think I’d keep hanging out with him after we broke up.”
Pacifica snorts, “Yeah, you would.”
Mabel tilts her head, prompting Pacifica to elaborate.
“You only cared about Robbie’s jealousy and insecurity because it was Dipper he was picking on,” Pacifica says, “I think in Wendy’s shoes, you would have just told him to leave the kid alone.”
Mabel says, “That does sound like something I’d do.” After a moment, she says, “Why did you ask?”
“Hm?”
“You asked if Wendy liked you,” Mabel says. After a moment of hesitation from Pacifica, Mabel’s eyes widened. “Wait, do you like Wendy too? Like, like-like?”
“What, no!” Pacifica says, “I just… people don’t like me, not like they like you and Dipper. I don’t have friends that I can call and do fun things with—other than you, Candy, and Grenda,” Pacifica amends, seeing Mabel’s eyes tear up like she might start crying, “and Dipper, I guess. I just wasn’t sure if I’d be welcome to join them in the future.”
Mabel says, “Oh! Well, I could ask? A couple of the guys are busy since they’re saving up for college, but I bet I could get some of the old gang together. Me and Dipper are the only ones your age, though, and if Tambry is coming, then Robbie is probably coming, and I think she said when we last texted that he’s a vampire now so—”
“How many vampires are there in this town?” Pacifica asks.
Mabel shrugs, “Would you be okay with that, though? With Robbie being there? If not, I could probably just invite Wendy over but—”
“No, I think that’ll be okay,” Pacifica says, “as long as Robbie can keep his fangs to himself.”
Mabel says, “Robbie’s harmless. He’s gone soft since he and Tambry got together. Oh my gosh, did I tell you? He’s saving up for a promise ring.”
“A promise ring?” Pacifica says. She doesn’t think she’s ever talked to Robbie, but she’s heard enough about him from Mabel, who seems to genuinely get along with him, that a promise ring seems wildly out of character.
“Yes!” Mabel says, “Don’t tell Tambry obviously,” Pacifica had no intention of telling Tambry, “but I guess it’s a big deal in Robbie’s family that you celebrate your partner? Now that Robbie’s getting older and he and Tambry are getting more serious, he figured this would be the least weird way of doing it.”
Pacifica guesses she can see that? “Huh, well good for them?”
Mabel nods, “That’s great. You know, it was Dipper and me who got them together?”
“I did not,” Pacifica says, wanting to hear the story about how Mabel and Dipper ended up playing matchmaker for the two most depressed teens in Gravity Falls and it working out.
Mabel promises, “I’ll tell you about it later, okay?” She pushes a door open, revealing to Pacifica her temporary room—on the first floor, thankfully. Her hunched back doesn’t really go well with stairs, which was part of why she decided to leave Candy’s house. Mabel says, “No socks on the carpet. Shoes or barefoot is fine, but static electricity buildup will make you switch bodies with whoever’s on the carpet with you. Learned that the hard way—not fun.”
Pacifica says, “That’s good to know, I guess.”
“On the bright side, I now know where the pituitary gland is.”
“What?”
“See you later!” Mabel says, leaving to go escort her wife to the library.
Pacifica sighs, setting her bags down on the bed. She takes off her socks and shoes, both amused because her family would be horrified that Pacifica was on carpet barefoot and because it figures that she would have ended up in another house with nonsensical rules about carpet (though she’d much rather be here than at home—at least the Pineses offer explanations for their rules and tell her the consequences of breaking the rule).
A rather loud knock on the window, which has a torn apart newspaper taped to the inside of it, calls Pacifica’s attention away from what she’s doing. She unlocks the window and pulls it open, revealing one of Ford’s reptilian heads. She nearly screams, but she contains herself.
“Hey, Ford.” Pacifica says, aiming for casual but sounding confused instead.
“Hello,” Ford says, “My therapisssst cancccelled and I thought you might like sssssome help sss—” He stops, starting again, “settling in.”
“Oh,” Pacifica says, “Um, well I think I’ve got the unpacking handled.” She says it both because it’s true and because she has no clue how Ford could even help with that, considering that even one of his heads barely fits in the window, and that’s not considering his lack of hands. “You could keep me company, though.”
Ford agrees, offering her little stories about some of the assorted oddities in his room, pointing out which things are from this world and which ones are from that world and which ones are his favorites and which ones he doesn’t remember getting in the first place and it’s nice.
Pacifica knew how much the Pineses loved Ford, but she’d never really gotten to see this side of him. She knew he was smart, in that distant way that one knows Einstein was smart, but she hadn’t really known much about him beyond that. She knew that Mabel liked his adventurous and reckless side, and she knew that Dipper liked how Ford made him feel special but also normal in a way that Pacifica didn’t really understand but understood that that was important to Dipper. She can see Mabel’s pride and enthusiasm and Dipper’s unrelenting determination and curiosity and she can even see Stan’s arrogance and thrill-seeking behavior and he just fits into their family.
Pacifica doesn’t know how to express how the more he talks, the more she starts to wonder if she could fit too.
“How’ssssss your resssssssearch going?” Ford asks, “Dipper mentioned you’ve ssssssstarted helping him.”
“Well, I don’t know all the science behind it,” Pacifica says, “but he sent off some of my… samples? He took some skin and hair and blood, so I’m not sure if they’re studying just DNA or the whole cell or what, but we’re waiting to hear back about the differences between my samples and his, to see if they can figure out the mechanism for his immunity.”
Ford says, “Well, it depends on how the sssssamplessssss were presssssserved and transssssported, and the lab Dipper might have sssssent them to, but I imagine there will be multiple typesssss of analysssssisssssss, ssssuch as obsssssserving differencccccesssss in DNA between yourssss and Dipper’sssss and the uncontaminated human, obssssserving cellular functionsssss and protein levelssss and diverssssity, obsssserving how the ccccellssss react to different ssssubstancesssss sssssuch as the milksssshake itssssself, the posssssibilitiesssss are really endlessssss, but with sssso few sssssubjectsssss, we might not be able to get reliable data.”
“Have you sssssubmitted any of your own?” Pacifica asks.
“I did at firssssst,” Ford says, “but the maccchhhhhinessss can’t even regissssster me as human anymore. There were too many quessssstionssssss about how my ssssamplesssss ssssshould be analyzed and what ssssspeciesssss I would even be consssssidered and they were more interessssssted in my new body and its ssssimplicationssssss for the field of regenerative medicine than actually finding a cure. My informattttion isssss probably in a databasssse sssssomewhere but we decccccided not to ssssssend any more of my sssssamplesssss in casssse they were usssssed for more nefariousssss purpossssssessssss.”
“Regenerative medicine? Do you mean like amputees?”
Ford says, “One exxxxample.” He looks so fed up with himself.
Pacifica considers her words carefully, and even wonders if it’s her place to ask, but even she decides to be brave, “Are you… okay? I know you’ve always liked the bizarre stuff, but I’m not sure that means that you ever envisioned yourself as part of it.”
“I’m okay,” Ford reassures, “I don’t like being a hydra, but I sssspent yearssss away from home and away from my family. I’d rather ssssuffer through sssssspeaking like thissss and ssssleeping outsssside than go back to before.”
Pacifica can see the wisdom in that, but, “Even if you’ve been through worse, that doesn’t mean you can’t be upset with how things are now.”
Ford tilts and nods his head in a strange approximation of a shrug, “Asssssk me again if thisssss goessss on for a while. Take thingssss one day at a time.”
Pacifica nods.
“Are you okay?” Ford asks.
Pacifica considers lying, but she doesn’t want the shack to become yet another place she lies. She says, “No. I’m hoping Dipper’s lab is able to find a cure, because I’m not… I don’t want to be vain or shallow or whatever but I am. I like looking a certain way and I like knowing I look that way and every time I see my reflection, or I frighten a child on the street, it’s just a reminder that I can’t do that anymore.”
Ford says, “I’m sssssorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” Pacifica says, “It’s not your fault.”
“It kind of issssss,” he says, “If I had done more to desssstroy that water sssssupply before Sssstanley found it, I could have ssstopped thissss from happening.”
True, Pacifica can admit, but she says, “I don’t blame you for any of this. You blocked off the area and put up warnings. Stan’s greed got us here, and you and Dipper’s brains will help us get out of this mess.”
“Yourssss too.”
Pacifica smiles, “Yeah, I guess mine too.”
A moment of quiet passes between them, coming to an end when Ford says, “For the record, I don’t think you’re sssscary.”
Pacifica laughs, “Yeah, says the three-headed dinosaur!”
He hisses with three mouths of fangs, but the smile in his eyes betrays the humor behind it.
Yeah, Pacifica thinks, This is the kind of place she wants to fit.
Chapter 8: Chapter 7
Notes:
Welcome back! This was a fun one to write! We're finally getting that scene we were promised with Dipper, Robbie, and Tambry. Consider this note your formal invitation to read this chapter. I hope you enjoy!
Chapter Text
Tambry doesn’t acknowledge the cemetery dotted with the gravestones memorializing Gravity Falls’s dead, even when she walks past the section dedicated to those who died during Weirdmaggedon. Why would she? She’s probably come here nearly every day since she and Robbie started dating, and might have even helped process the bodies and assist with the burials.
Dipper doesn’t know why he thinks that, but it feels right. Tambry had been changed by the end of the world, just like everyone else (even Dipper, if he’s being honest), but Dipper hadn’t been prepared for how… grown up she seems now. Sure, she’d started to open up after she fell in love, but she’d still been a phone addict and a teenager of few words punctuated with heavy eye liner and a flip of pink hair. Dipper knew she was older than him, just like the rest of the group, but she hadn’t felt older. She had just been… well, Tambry.
Now, she’s got a stable relationship, a job at the local grocery store, and a sharp eye for people that Dipper can honestly say he’s envious of and she’s looking at colleges and Dipper’s not freaked out so much by that, since he’s been looking forward to college since he learned of it, but he is freaked out by how Tambry already seems like she’s got it all figured out. Dipper hasn’t asked what she’s looking to major in, but he knows she’s going to kick ass at whatever she tries.
The Valentino house, a strange color that could only be described as “the cross between a honeybee and a daisy” with pale blue trim and flowers that are practically claiming every inch of available space, has had its windows boarded up, though they rolled out a new welcome mat on the porch. Dipper wonders if the mat counts as an invitation of vampires, then wonders if asking Robbie would be a welcome question or if it would be welcoming a violent end to the tenuous truce. In moments like this, Dipper understands why Ford agreed to a deal with Bill, ill-advised as it was.
The human brain is wired with the desire to learn and to know. The human body will fade long before its brain will ever be satisfied. The human heart will be broken or will regret breaking that of others in the brain’s pursuit of trying anyway.
Mr. Valentino is trimming the ivy that crawls up the far wall, though Dipper is surprised to see that he isn’t removing it entirely, like the HOA back in California would have demanded. He waves at Dipper with a large smile on his face. Dipper waves back, wondering if the strangest thing about Gravity Falls is that this family works with the dead, or that they produced someone as temperamental as Robbie.
Tambry calls Dipper’s name, drawing his attention back to her as she pulls open the apparently-unlocked screen door. He hums in acknowledgement, prompting Tambry to tell him, “It’s a no-shoe house but they have a dog so you might want to leave your shoes in a closet where they’re safe.”
Dipper appreciates the warning and takes off his shoes. As they shut the closet door and the golden retriever (the tag reads Ginger, which is how Dipper knows immediately that Robbie didn’t name her) sniffs Dipper from head to toe in greeting, Tambry calls out, “Robbie, I’m here! I brought Dipper with me!”
Dipper takes the opportunity to really look around the place and is surprised to see that, while the sunlight has been blocked from entering the home, it doesn’t stop the place from looking bright. Floral wallpapers and plush couches and cross-stitched artwork weren’t exactly what Dipper was expecting.
As though to contradict Dipper’s first impression, a dramatic and rather familiar organ motif shakes through the house. While Dipper and Ginger both are startled by the sound, Tambry just smiles. She tells Dipper, “If you can believe it, they actually did that before Robbie became a vampire. Apparently it’s a tradition in the family? You must learn to play the organ, and you must play it.”
“Who’s playing, though?” Dipper asks, “I thought Mr. Valentino was outside, and Mrs. Valentino’s car was gone.”
Tambry says, “The milkshake made Mr. Valentino duplicate. Or split in two? We’re not really sure. One Mr. Valentino is like creepily nice and the other is charmingly rude. Maybe it’s a weird Jekyll and Hyde thing.”
“But Mr. Hyde didn’t exist,” Dipper says, “Dr. Jekyll was just pretending so he could do evil things.”
“Sure,” she says, “but does the milkshake care about that? Robbie can’t turn into a bat, doesn’t compulsively count things, and placing a rose on his coffin doesn’t stop him from rising from it.”
“Wait, he sleeps in a coffin?” Dipper asks.
Tambry says, “Duh. The family discount was too good to pass up.” She grabs Dipper by the arm and leads him toward Robbie’s room, where the vampire has retreated into his indifferent act with a flip of his bangs (he and Tambry really are perfect for each other, even if it took a love potion to nudge them in the right direction). He is, surprisingly, sitting on the closed lid of a coffin. Dipper had been half-convinced that was a joke.
He pulls one hand out of his sweatshirt’s pocket to gesture at Dipper, “Why’d you bring the twerp?”
Dipper honestly isn’t sure why Tambry thought this would be a good idea either. Every interaction with Robbie has either been outright antagonistic or a brief moment of peace brought on by both of them having bigger problems to worry about.
Tambry seems to have no problem explaining herself however, and probably expected that she’d have to. “You’ll go crazy without someone to talk to, Robbie—someone other than me.” She adds the last part when Robbie starts to say he does have someone to talk to. This shuts Robbie up. She continues, “And Dipper’s not a twerp. He’s a good kid and he agreed to be here for you. I’m going to go get something for us humans to snack on while you two talk things out.” She gets up then, abandoning Dipper to the terrible fate of having to get along with Robbie.
Robbie doesn’t seem too thrilled when his girlfriend leaves either, looking at Dipper like one looks at leaves in their raingutter. Still, Robbie does try to make conversation, “So, you really are human? I mean, you look like one, but so does your sister and Stan, so I know that doesn’t mean much these days.”
“Yeah,” Dipper says.
Robbie rolls his eyes, “Really? ‘Yeah?’ That’s all you’ve got?”
“Well, what am I supposed to say? Yes, I’m human.”
Robbie says, “Just didn’t think that you’d fake drinking the shake on TV. Doesn’t seem like your style.”
“I didn’t fake it,” Dipper says, “I’m just immune.”
Robbie looks almost like an odd reflection of his dog when his ears metaphorically perk like that, “Does that mean you’ve figured out—”
“Not yet,” Dipper says, not wanting Robbie to get his hopes up, “So far, I only have samples from me, Ford, and Pacifica. Mabel’s supposed to let me take some tonight, but Stan’s DNA was on too many crime scenes so he won’t let me submit his, even though I already submitted his identical twin’s DNA but I guess he didn’t think about that.”
Robbie looks a little hesitant, but he does ask, “What… kind of samples are these?”
“A little bit of everything,” Dipper admits, “but nothing invasive. Why?”
“Because if you end up finding this cure, I want it,” Robbie says with such bite that Dipper almost checks to see if Robbie’s fangs are aiming for his neck, but Dipper holds himself back. He’s fought worse than Robbie off, and he doesn’t think Robbie would ever really hurt him.
Dipper knew that Tambry said Robbie didn’t like being a vampire, but the intensity of the statement leaves Dipper confused. “Is being a vampire really that bad? I can’t imagine you going to many places people wouldn’t willingly invite you in, and you never really did like the sun.”
“It’s not… look, maybe a year ago I would have been thrilled by this, but I’ve got stuff I care about now. I don’t want to—” He pauses, clearly considering how much to share, “You saw Tambry’s neck, right? She helps make sure I don’t starve to death, and my parents make sure to take care of all of my errands that can’t be done in the middle of the night, like picking up a package at the post office because I couldn’t answer the door when the delivery came and they wouldn’t leave it without a signature. I can’t go to the college I wanted to because they only offer classes during the day, which means Tambry has to go to whatever college I go to because she knows I won’t ask a stranger to let me bite them so Tambry’s going to end up taking night classes with me which limits the opportunities she has for finding a job and makes it significantly harder for her to see and do what she wants to and I haven’t even asked her to do that but Tambry won’t listen to me when I tell her I don’t want that for her.”
“Woah.” Dipper says, not sure how else to respond.
Robbie says, “One way or another, vampires drain the life out of people. If giving you a few samples can lead to a cure, sign me up.”
Dipper says, “Do you even have blood? Or spit? You obviously have hair and skin, but—”
Tambry returns with some sliced fruit and an explanation of, “Your mom walked in the door while I was grabbing chips from the pantry. She thinks Dipper and I need more vitamin C, so of course I grabbed some fruit but she insisted on slicing it for us. I love her, Robbie, but she does realize we aren’t like, twelve, right?”
“Speak for yourself,” Dipper jokes, taking some of the fruit and popping it in his mouth.
Tambry snorts, “Thirteen. You’re technically a teen.” Hearing his own words parroted back at him, Dipper feels embarrassed. Had he really been so annoying last time he came to Gravity Falls? No wonder Wendy thought of him as a little kid.
Robbie looks at the fruit, “Like you won’t be the same if we ever have kids.”
“That if is doing a lot of heavy lifting there, Robbie,” Tambry laughs, “I didn’t even think you liked kids.”
“I don’t,” Robbie says, “but I’ve changed my mind before, so I’m not ruling it out.”
Tambry shrugs, “Fair enough.” She looks at Dipper, “Did you two get along while I was gone?”
“Yeah,” Dipper says, “Surprisingly.”
She smiles smugly, “What did I say?”
“Yeah, yeah, you were right,” Robbie says, “As usual. Hurry up and eat all of that before I get jealous.”
As Tambry and Dipper clear the plate, she says, “Oh, your sister texted by the way, Dipper. Apparently Pacifica’s moved in? And you’re having a welcome party? She says it’ll be us, your family, Soos, and Wendy.”
No Candy or Grenda? That’s surprising to Dipper, especially with Mabel trying to keep up with her ‘secret wife’ duties. Dipper says, “Do not let me raise any dead, alright? One undead person is enough for a house party.”
“I heard about that,” Tambry says, “Mabel was so mad at you.”
“When did Pacifica move in with you?” Robbie asks, “Why did she move in with you?”
Dipper feels a weird defensiveness at the questioning. He says, “We’re friends and she needed a place to stay. That’s all.”
Robbie shrugs, “Yeah, alright. Just didn’t think she’d rough it with ‘the poors’ or whatever.”
“Hey, she’s not like that… anymore.” Dipper says.
Tambry says, “She put in an application at the diner.” Dipper hadn’t known that. “The owner didn’t feel comfortable hiring someone so young, but she’ll be keeping Pacifica in mind when she’s old enough.”
“A Northwest?” Robbie says, looking surprised, “I didn’t think they had normal jobs.”
“Pacifica will,” Dipper says, “She’s a lot more normal than people think. And a lot nicer.”
Robbie says, “Alright, alright, point taken. Did Mabel give a time?”
Tambry says, “After sundown,” knowing what he was really asking, “and she said you specifically were invited, so you don’t need to worry about that. Will you need to eat before we go? You haven’t really been in a crowded place since—”
“I’ll be okay,” Robbie says, “but I’ll say something if I’m not.”
Dipper really hopes Mabel won’t have undead attacks at two different parties.
Chapter 9: Chapter 8
Notes:
Hey! We're checking back in with Miss Mabel! This is a bit of a shorter chapter, but it's setting up for some of the things yet to come! I hope you enjoy! (I promise things will get better, but nothing ever goes perfectly for the Pines twins, even in my fanfiction).
Chapter Text
Mabel doesn’t know what she’s doing. She thought she knew how to be a good wife, had even dreamed of being one since she knew what love was, but she realizes now that she doesn’t know how to be Candy’s wife. Her own mom wasn’t anyone’s wife (her parents didn’t believe in binding themselves to one another in the eyes of the law, even going so far as to move to California, where the state didn’t consider people who lived together long-term to be married) and the wives on TV were remarkably unhelpful, since most of them seemed to hate their husbands or be hated by their husbands (Morticia Addams was an exception, but Mabel didn’t think her dynamic with her husband was anything she felt could be recreated).
Mabel knew that spending time together was important in relationships, so she made sure to learn Candy’s schedule and to make sure that she made time in her own schedule to be part of it. She knew that dates were part of that too, but she also knew that, without telling Candy they were married, it would be difficult to go on any. Still, she tried to do things that good partners do for one another, like doing chores (she helped Candy dust the house, even though Candy had insisted she could do it by herself, then did the dishes after she ended up staying until dinner, despite Candy’s parents telling Candy that the guest shouldn’t be doing the dishes). She brought Candy lunch once, only to be embarrassed when she realized that Candy still lives with her parents, and that they already made her lunch, so Mabel ended up saying that she had come to study with Candy so she obviously brought her own food.
Candy had seemed very confused. Not only was it summer, so Mabel wasn’t taking any classes, but Candy’s studies were in politics and foreign languages, so she could follow in her aunt’s footsteps as an ambassador. Mabel played it off, saying that she was totally super interested in those things too, but Candy didn’t seem convinced. Mabel learned a little from that study session, but none of it was actually helpful to her goal of like…
What was her goal? It had seemed so simple, when Mabel first decided to accept Candy’s hand in marriage. She still understands her reasoning, even if Grenda doesn’t, but she’s lost as to what she should be working toward. She likes Candy, and she knows she likes girls the same way she likes boys, but she doesn’t know if she’s attracted to Candy. Candy’s cute and sweet but totally not what Mabel would have thought her type was, and it doesn’t help that Mabel has no idea if Candy likes girls at all, let alone if she likes girls like Mabel. Mabel decided a while ago that she didn’t want to break Candy’s heart, but she’s also afraid that Candy might break hers.
Hence, her dilemma. Does Mabel want to fall in love with Candy? Does she want Candy to fall in love with her? Do either of those things need to happen for this marriage to work? Are the things Mabel wants from marriage the same thing that Candy also wants from marriage? Should their marriage change anything about their relationship or how they spend their time? Mabel doesn’t know any of the answers. She just knows that she wants to stay married to Candy, and that she wants to make this marriage good for her. Mabel thought that would be enough, and it would be if it wasn’t for all of the terrifying questions she now has to answer for herself.
Her arm is still bruised from where Dipper drew blood for his samples (both as a human and as a seal, in case her DNA changed between forms), but the skin was too sensitive for her usual knit sweaters, so she had opted for a short-sleeved shirt decorated with puppies in space (Dipper had told her a story about a canine astronaut that almost ruined this shirt for her, but ultimately the shirt’s cuteness won out over Mabel’s sadness). Candy’s wings flutter in the sunlight, sparkling with fairy dust and somewhat see-through. Dipper has asked Candy, but they still haven’t figured out what her wings are made of. While a butterfly’s wings are made of scales, Candy’s wings are only solid when she’s in flight—standing on the ground like this, one could reach right through them.
“Are you made of light?” Mabel asks.
“What?” Candy answers.
“Dipper said something about light being both matter and a ray,” Mabel says, “which is why you can’t touch light, but you can block it.”
Candy hums thoughtfully, “I suppose it’s possible, but wouldn’t my wings behave differently in such a case?”
“What do you mean?”
Candy demonstrates by putting her own hand through the middle of her wing, “If my wings were made of light, the light would come from either my back or some external source. My hand would be casting a shadow, which would remove or change the area of the wing no longer receiving light from its source.” Candy’s fingers wiggle demonstratively, and the surrounding wing is unchanged and unbothered by the intrusion.
“Oh!” Mabel says, “It’s like how putting your hands under a faucet changes where the water goes.”
“Kind of,” Candy agrees.
Mabel isn’t a sciency person, so she doesn’t dwell on the question of Candy’s wings any longer, but she appreciates that Candy explained it to her. They continue walking to the library, but Candy stops suddenly, looking at Mabel expectantly. Mabel asks, “Are you okay?”
Candy says, “Are you?”
“What?” Mabel asks.
Candy stares at Mabel through her glasses, but Mabel swears she’d see through her even without them. Candy says, “You’ve been acting really weird since my party. I’d worry you were mad at me but you’ve been… clingy.”
“‘Clingy.’” Mabel echoes.
“Yeah, and Grenda’s walking on eggshells whenever I try to ask her about it, so here I am, asking you. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Mabel says.
Candy says, “Is it because I’m a fairy? I know fairies are like… delicate or whatever, but I don’t need you to look after me—”
“Wait, no, I don’t think you’re delicate,” Mabel says.
“Then why are you acting like I’m made of sugar? I won’t melt in the sun, Mabel.”
It’s a weak attempt, even to her own ears, but Mabel tries to diffuse the situation with a joke, “Well your name is Candy.”
“Mabel.” Candy says, more frustrated now due to Mabel’s insistent evasion.
Mabel says nothing.
Candy sighs, “I can’t read your mind, Mabel. Believe me, I tried, but I don’t think that’s something fairies can do.” Mabel is very grateful for that fact. It hadn’t even occurred to her as a possibility. She continues, “I don’t like that you and Grenda are leaving me out of… whatever is going on, and I don’t like that it feels like every time I change my schedule, I have to tell you or you’ll freak out when you can’t find me. Even my parents don’t spend as much time with me as you do. I like having free time and doing whatever I want and—”
“I didn’t mean to hold you back, Candy,” Mabel says, “you can do whatever you want and be spontaneous and—”
“Mabel, I’m not mad because you’re spending time with me. We’re friends. I like spending time with you.” Mabel doesn’t understand what the problem is then. She hasn’t done anything that friends don’t do, other than getting married, but Mabel hardly thinks that’s what Candy’s mad about since Candy doesn’t know they’re married. “I’m mad that no one will tell me why. I’m mad that things are changing between us and I have no idea where we’re going, literally or metaphorically. I left the house to go to the library, and you showed up and now I don’t know if it’s because you’re also going to the library or if I should change my plans now so that we can talk rather than just read next to each other.”
“We can go to the library,” Mabel says, “I can read next to you.”
Candy says, “But do you even want to? We never did that before.”
“That was before—” Mabel cuts herself off, but Candy catches it.
“Before what?”
Mabel doesn’t know what compels her to say it, but she doesn’t realize what she’s said until she sees the look on Candy’s face.
Before I realized I liked you.
“What?” Candy’s voice is small, even softer than usual. Her wings flutter behind her uncertainly.
“I like you,” Mabel says, realizing it’s true as she does.
Candy stares, expression unreadable. She spreads her wings and the light they reflect is suddenly blinding, burning Mabel’s eyes until she has to look down at the sidewalk.
Mabel laughs awkwardly, “You uh, don’t have to feel the same way obviously, but—”
“Go home, Mabel.” Candy says.
“What?” Of all of the responses she could have predicted, that wouldn’t have been one of them.
“I can’t…” Candy shakes her head, seemingly giving up on that line of thought, “I need to think, alright? Alone.”
Mabel says, “Wait, no, you don’t need to think about it. You don’t even need to respond. We can act like I didn’t even say anything. You wanted to know, so I—”
Candy says, a little more forcefully, “Just go.”
And that’s how Mabel Pines gets her heart broken. Part of her had expected it, but she hadn’t expected it to happen only seconds after she offered it, especially to someone she promised the rest of her life to.
Maybe Mabel should have expected it. She’s been rejected by everyone at least once. There was a reason she decided to leave her romantic fate to her sweater, which had always protected her before. Walking away, the wind against her bare skin reminds her how vulnerable she feels without it.
She pulls out her phone, sending texts to a handful of her friends. She’d made a promise after all, and nothing had ever helped her feel better faster than a party.
Chapter 10: Chapter 9
Notes:
Hello!!!! So sorry for the wait! I had a bit of writer's block, so I was reading to help me get through it and work out the problem, and then I had a pet pass away a few weeks ago. I hope you guys really enjoy this chapter! We're getting close to the end now!
Chapter Text
Dipper isn’t really sure why they’re having a party, other than that Mabel wants one. Ostensibly, it’s a welcoming party for Pacifica, but Mabel hasn’t invited Candy or Grenda, who are among the few people Pacifica feels comfortable around. Dipper hasn’t had the chance to ask about it, nor has he decided that he will. The Dipper of old would have and wouldn’t have thought twice about it, because it’s what the Mabel of old would have needed, but the new Mabel?
He isn’t sure, these days, what Mabel’s thinking most of the time. Once upon a time, he had wished for Mabel to be a little more independent, and maybe even a little more quiet, but now that she is, he’s really not sure how to reach her before he gets left behind. The idea doesn’t fill him with dread, the way it did for Mabel just one year prior, but it does worry him. Stan and Ford lost decades of their lives together because they stopped counting on one another, even before the accident with the portal and Stan assuming his twin’s identity.
Much as Dipper is working towards fixing it, Mabel is a selkie now. If she wanted to, she could catch a bus to the beach, put on her sweater, and disappear. He knows she doesn’t want to, but he’s human, what would he be able to do to find her again?
It isn’t just Mabel that worries him. Robbie could turn to ash, Wendy may be called to Valhalla, Pacifica might continue aging and, even though her internal imaging indicates the aging is superficial, her skin could theoretically start decomposing and falling off her until she dies from exposure--Dipper can acknowledge that Mabel is only the more vocally dramatic twin.
Dipper’s attention is brought back to the present by Soos, who is only halfway through vacuuming the couch and apparently losing a fight with it, based on the scissors he’s taking to its underside. Catching Dipper’s eye, Soos smiles apologetically, “Sorry, dudes, didn’t realize how much I shed now. Melody is going to kill me if I don’t start using that deshedding shampoo she told me to buy.”
Dipper laughs, “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure some of it is from Stan working on his animal shapeshifting.” The con artist has transitioned from party tricks to a potential moneymaking scheme, though he hasn’t ironed out the details. Dipper thinks Stan might be testing the limits of his own abilities before deciding. Speaking of Stan, “Where is Stan anyway?” Last Dipper had seen Stan, the man had been taking out the trash, but he should have been done with that by now.
Soos says, “I think he’s outside with your Gruncle Ford. I might join them when the drinking games start.”
Dipper really should have guessed, knowing Stan. “Doesn’t Stan always win?” Dipper asks, “What’s the point of playing?”
Soos says, “He usually wins, but now I’ve got a crazy high metabolism and your Gruncle Ford has a liver larger than both of us combined! I think we’ll be giving your Gruncle a run for his money tonight!”
“Good luck with that,” Dipper says.
“Thanks, little dude,” Soos says, clapping a furred hand a little too hard on Dipper’s back, then offering another when he sees the wince Dipper tried and failed to hide, “Sorry, dude.”
Dipper wheezes, “It’s okay.”
Mabel’s parents had always said that she had the potential to become the dictator of a small country. She doesn’t agree, mostly because she doesn’t like to commit to any project for longer than a few nights, but she does know what they saw in her. Under her direction, the whole Mystery Shack is nearly spotless and stuffed to the brim with snacks, games, and everything else she could need to entertain. Now, all that’s left for her to do is make sure the guest of honor stops looking so anxious.
Mabel wraps an arm across Pacifica’s shoulders, pulling her close, “Turn that frown upside down, Pacifica! You’re gonna do great!”
“That’s easy for you to say,” she says, a touch defensively, “You’ve never had to pay anyone to like you.” She slips away, letting Mabel’s arm drop from her shoulders, but turns to look at Mabel.
Mabel shrugs, “Details. For real, though, just relax and have some fun, okay? Just pretend it’s me or Dipper.”
Pacifica doesn’t look as heartened by that as Mabel expected, “Yeah, okay.” Pacifica does like her and Dipper, right? She thought they were all friends, at least.
“Pacifica?” Mabel questions.
Pacifica waves away the concern, “Don’t worry about me. I really appreciate you doing this for me. I’m just nervous. I’ll get over it.”
“If you say so,” Mabel reluctantly agrees.
A knock at the door signals the end of that conversation. Dipper goes to answer the door, opening it and happily greeting their first guest, “Wendy, hey!”
Wendy’s taller than when Mabel last saw her, though it’s hard to know how much of that is her and how much of that is the armor that Wendy’s repeatedly tried (and failed) to remove from her person. In her hands is a small package, which she awkwardly pushes into Dipper’s hands. He fumbles with it while she says, “Hey, I’m sorry that I kinda flaked on you earlier. I can’t promise it won’t happen again, but we’ll have to try again soon.”
Dipper shrugs, “No worries, Wendy, I hung out with Tambry and Robbie so it worked out.”
Wendy visibly relaxes when she hears Dipper’s assurance that he isn’t upset with her. She smiles, “No shit, how’s Robbie doing? He’s been hiding out ever since, you know.”
“You’ll have to ask him, he should be coming soon.”
“Sick. I’ve been dying to find out which of us is stronger now,” she says to Mabel, “Thanks again for inviting me, Mabel,” then, noticing Pacifica, “Oh, hey, is that you, Pacifica? Almost didn’t recognize you. It’s been a while.”
Mabel could have sworn she saw Pacifica swallow from nerves, but the rest of her looks casual and sure, just like when they met the year previous, if a little less arrogant. Pacifica says, “Uh, yeah, hi.”
Mabel prompts, “Why don’t you go grab some sodas, Dipper?”
Her brother agrees easily, “Sure, any special requests?”
“Do you guys have any Creature Cola?” Wendy asks.
“I’ll check,” Dipper says before checking with the other girl, “Pacifica?”
Pacifica’s cool demeanor freezes and stutters like a scratched CD and Mabel is suddenly not sure that Pacifica has ever even had a soda. She recovers quickly though and says, “I’ll take whatever.”
“Sure.” Dipper says before confirming that Mabel and Soos want their usual Pitt Cola and leaving.
Wendy excuses herself to use the restroom, leaving Soos, Mabel, and Pacifica alone in the living room. Mabel reminds Pacifica, “Loosen up. You look like you think we’re going to laugh at you.”
Pacifica argues, “I am loose!”
Soos laughs for a moment, and both girls stare at him. Soos stops himself and apologizes, “Sorry dudes. You’re doing great, Pacifica.”
Pacifica nods, but doesn’t look like she believes it.
Mabel feels like this is going to be a loooooonnnnngggggg night.
Soos is practically sinking into Stan’s worn armchair while he, Tambry, Wendy, and Dipper play cards at the coffee table, their cups and cans leaving condensation rings. Soos isn’t really sure what they’re playing, since every time he seems to figure out a rule, he’s swiftly proven wrong. He’s not too bothered, since he’s just happy to be part of the party. After this round, though, he’ll probably head outside to join the other adults and leave the kids to have their fun.
Wendy takes a sip of her soda, then plays a card while asking, “Is Pacifica planning to stay for long? I know you and Mabel are leaving at the end of summer, is she leaving then too?”
Dipper says, “Not sure.” He watches carefully as Tambry and then Robbie place their own cards in the pile, “I know she’s staying until we find a cure, but we aren’t sure how long that will take.” He checks his watch, “I’m expecting a call from the labs tonight actually. They promised to get back to me with the results from Pacifica and Mabel’s samples and an estimated timeline.”
Tambry says, “Let me and Robbie know what they say. I know he’ll be eager to hear any updates.” After a moment passes, she reminds Soos that it’s his turn to play.
“Oh, sorry dude,” he says, picking a card from his hand at random and placing it in the middle. Robbie lets out a triumphant noise and steals the card and places it in his own hand. Soos has no idea what that means, but he’s pretty sure Robbie is winning.
“He offered to submit samples if we need as well,” Dipper says, responding to Tambry, “so I’ll let you know if that’s something we need to do.”
It’s Dipper’s turn now, and Soos watches as he demands a card from Wendy’s hand that he apparently deduced she must have? Wendy hands it over, so that must also be allowed. Dipper doesn’t place a card in the pile. Wendy places a card down, admitting casually, “I’m a little surprised Robbie is hating this so much. If it wasn’t for having to listen to Odin, I wouldn’t mind staying a Valkyrie.”
“Sure, but being a Valkyrie gives you more opportunities.” Tambry says, “You’ve become stronger, faster, and I think you can fly?” Wendy makes a so-so gesture, like she maybe hasn’t fully figured that out herself. Tambry accepts the half-answer, pointing out, “Robbie might be stronger and faster now, but he can’t go out in the sunlight, and Soos had to invite him inside before he could step into the house even though Mabel invited him over text. To Robbie, being a vampire takes away more than it gives.”
Soos can sorta see where Tambry’s coming from, but he says, “I dunno, dude, being able to turn into a bat would be super cool.”
Dipper’s eyes widen with fascination and Soos realizes that, for all the questions Dipper has asked, that somehow wasn’t one he even considered. He asks Tambry, “Can he turn into a bat?”
“No,” Tambry laughs.
“Wait,” Soos says, “so he can’t go in the sun or go anywhere uninvited or turn into an animal and he has to drink blood? That sucks, dude.”
Robbie says, “That pun better have been unintended.” He looks pretty grumpy about the whole thing, but Soos thinks he hears some humor in the statement.
“I didn’t even think of that, dude,” Soos says, “You get one free wolf joke, okay? That’ll cancel it out.”
Robbie rolls his eyes, “You’re such a weirdo.”
Wendy laughs, “I guess being a Valkyrie is pretty cool in comparison.”
“Hey, Dipper,” Soos asks, “You’re working with these fancy labs to find a cure, right? Will they make anyone take it? Or prevent someone from becoming a monster in the future?”
Dipper looks confused, “What do you mean?”
Soos explains, “Well, they’re treating this like a disease, right? And obviously there are people who do want to be cured, like Pacifica or Robbie or your Gruncle Ford,” he says, “but what about people like me or Mabel or Mr. Pines? We like being this way. Would we have to go back to being humans? Will they try to either purify or isolate the water so no one can ever be exposed to it again? What’s the plan?”
Dipper admits, “I really didn’t think about that, so I didn’t ask what they plan to do about all of this. I just… like you said, the water is hurting people, and it isn’t fair that they didn’t get to choose this, so I wanted them to have the choice to go back to how things were. I don’t…”
Tambry says, “You’re supposed to get a phone call about it tonight, right? You can talk to them about it then.”
Dipper nods, “Yeah, I guess. Shouldn’t they prevent this from happening again though?”
“What do you mean?” Wendy asks.
Robbie says, “I’m not feeling too good,” and he doesn’t look it either. He’d come to the party looking half-dead, but now he looked like the first part was a lie.
Soos offers, “Do you need help getting to the bathroom?”
Robbie shakes his head, “No, I’ll be okay. I’m just gonna get some air.”
“Do you want me to--” Tambry starts, but Robbie cuts her off with a “No.” He heads toward the kitchen, where they usually leave the window open. Mabel and Pacifica are making popcorn in there, if the loud popping and the rumble of the microwave Soos distantly hears are any indication.
Tambry apologizes, “Sorry, he’s trying to figure out what foods and drinks he can still have. I think plant-based stuff is the hardest on him.”
Wendy says, “Don’t worry about it, we’re all adjusting to our new…” she gestures wildly like she’s trying to think of the word, “lifestyles,” she settles on.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Dipper says, “we don’t even know where this water came from, or what it’ll do to a person once they’re exposed. I asked Gruncle Ford and he said the water wasn’t there when he first came to Gravity Falls, and once it did appear, it was totally normal water. It only started doing weird things in the past year or so.”
Soos wonders aloud, “Is it maybe a side effect of Weirdmageddon?”
The party suddenly turns real quiet.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to kill the mood or--”
“No, Soos, I think you’re right,” Dipper says, “I need to go talk to Gruncle Ford. Excuse me.” Dipper flies from the room like he’s the bat they accused Robbie of being, leaving Wendy, Soos, and Tambry alone in the living room.
Soos asks, “Whose turn is it again?”
DoodleNerd on Chapter 1 Thu 29 Aug 2024 01:37AM UTC
Comment Actions
WeekendWednesday on Chapter 1 Thu 29 Aug 2024 06:01PM UTC
Comment Actions
QuackerWritesShit on Chapter 1 Tue 10 Sep 2024 01:39AM UTC
Comment Actions
WeekendWednesday on Chapter 1 Tue 10 Sep 2024 11:00PM UTC
Comment Actions
QuackerWritesShit on Chapter 1 Wed 11 Sep 2024 08:24PM UTC
Comment Actions
Reign_of_Nightmares_and_Daydreams on Chapter 1 Tue 10 Sep 2024 09:42PM UTC
Comment Actions
WeekendWednesday on Chapter 1 Tue 10 Sep 2024 11:01PM UTC
Comment Actions
Undynlicia on Chapter 1 Fri 25 Oct 2024 12:07PM UTC
Comment Actions
WeekendWednesday on Chapter 1 Fri 25 Oct 2024 01:31PM UTC
Comment Actions
Undynlicia on Chapter 1 Sat 26 Oct 2024 03:51AM UTC
Comment Actions
BoredTurtleNerd on Chapter 1 Sun 03 Nov 2024 02:36AM UTC
Last Edited Sun 03 Nov 2024 02:36AM UTC
Comment Actions
WeekendWednesday on Chapter 1 Sun 03 Nov 2024 07:15PM UTC
Comment Actions
QuackerWritesShit on Chapter 3 Sat 14 Jun 2025 01:04AM UTC
Comment Actions
WeekendWednesday on Chapter 3 Sat 14 Jun 2025 06:08PM UTC
Comment Actions
Undynlicia on Chapter 3 Sat 14 Jun 2025 05:35AM UTC
Comment Actions
WeekendWednesday on Chapter 3 Sat 14 Jun 2025 06:10PM UTC
Comment Actions
moonboots on Chapter 3 Thu 09 Oct 2025 02:23PM UTC
Comment Actions
WeekendWednesday on Chapter 3 Thu 09 Oct 2025 02:55PM UTC
Comment Actions
Undynlicia on Chapter 4 Thu 10 Jul 2025 10:18PM UTC
Comment Actions
WeekendWednesday on Chapter 4 Thu 10 Jul 2025 10:35PM UTC
Comment Actions
QuackerWritesShit on Chapter 4 Sat 12 Jul 2025 01:00AM UTC
Comment Actions
WeekendWednesday on Chapter 4 Sat 12 Jul 2025 01:10AM UTC
Comment Actions
QuackerWritesShit on Chapter 4 Sun 13 Jul 2025 12:53AM UTC
Comment Actions
PainfullyAverage_tm on Chapter 5 Wed 06 Aug 2025 05:45AM UTC
Last Edited Wed 06 Aug 2025 05:45AM UTC
Comment Actions
WeekendWednesday on Chapter 5 Wed 06 Aug 2025 01:35PM UTC
Comment Actions
Undynlicia on Chapter 6 Tue 12 Aug 2025 05:12AM UTC
Comment Actions
WeekendWednesday on Chapter 6 Tue 12 Aug 2025 11:34AM UTC
Comment Actions
The Froggy Ninja (thefroggyninja) on Chapter 6 Sun 21 Sep 2025 01:06AM UTC
Comment Actions
WeekendWednesday on Chapter 6 Sun 21 Sep 2025 01:54AM UTC
Comment Actions
The Froggy Ninja (thefroggyninja) on Chapter 6 Sun 21 Sep 2025 02:06AM UTC
Comment Actions
The Froggy Ninja (thefroggyninja) on Chapter 7 Sat 20 Sep 2025 05:51PM UTC
Comment Actions
WeekendWednesday on Chapter 7 Sat 20 Sep 2025 07:45PM UTC
Comment Actions
The Froggy Ninja (thefroggyninja) on Chapter 7 Sun 21 Sep 2025 01:23AM UTC
Comment Actions
WeekendWednesday on Chapter 7 Sun 21 Sep 2025 01:49AM UTC
Comment Actions
The Froggy Ninja (thefroggyninja) on Chapter 7 Sun 21 Sep 2025 04:38AM UTC
Comment Actions
UnicornLover827 on Chapter 9 Fri 03 Oct 2025 08:27PM UTC
Comment Actions
WeekendWednesday on Chapter 9 Fri 03 Oct 2025 09:24PM UTC
Comment Actions
UnicornLover827 on Chapter 9 Fri 03 Oct 2025 08:27PM UTC
Comment Actions
WeekendWednesday on Chapter 9 Fri 03 Oct 2025 09:25PM UTC
Comment Actions
The Froggy Ninja (thefroggyninja) on Chapter 10 Mon 15 Dec 2025 08:31PM UTC
Comment Actions
WeekendWednesday on Chapter 10 Mon 15 Dec 2025 11:13PM UTC
Comment Actions
TFAltHist on Chapter 10 Tue 16 Dec 2025 03:38AM UTC
Comment Actions
WeekendWednesday on Chapter 10 Tue 16 Dec 2025 04:43AM UTC
Comment Actions