Chapter Text
Dipper wasn’t expecting Cass to follow them, but she joined them in the front seat of Pacifica’s car. He and Mabel took the back.
“Sam said that Spectra feeds on misery. She didn’t do anything to you, did she?” Pacifica questioned.
Besides lock me up in a room and play therapist? “She talked to me. And who’s Sam?” He asked. Tonight had been the most confusing night of his life, barring Weirdmageddon. Then again, that wasn’t even confusing, just weird.
“She was at the gala!” Mabel said.
“Ah. Same with the others you mentioned–Grace and Claire, right?” He couldn’t believe so many people came to rescue him. What made them all decide it was a good idea to go . . . wherever they had been just like that? Most wouldn’t want to go on a dangerous mission.
“Yeah. They’re interesting people.” Pacifica gave a sideways glance at Cass. “And we’re here.”
They walked into the Gravity Falls emergency room. The woman behind the counter sighed when she saw Mabel. “What is it this time, Mabel?”
“It was ghosts,” Mabel replied. “Thanks for asking, Sharon!”
“You know her?” Cass inquired.
“The Pines are on a first-name basis with all the doctors in the emergency room,” Pacifica whispered as they went to sit down.
“I heard that,” Dipper said, but he wasn’t annoyed, not really. He was just tired. It had been a long day, and he was beyond ready for it to end.
“Well, it’s true, isn’t it?”
He groaned.
“Mabel Pines,” a doctor called.
“That’s me!” Mabel said, standing up and leaving.
“Hm. Short wait,” Cass remarked.
“Yeah, Gravity Falls is pretty small,” Dipper replied.
“Hey Cass? Could you give me and Dipper a moment?” Pacifica asked.
Cass nodded and slipped out the front door.
“What is it?” Dipper asked nervously. She’d walked out on her parents–maybe she was going to ask him for a place to stay? She usually crashed at the Mystery Shack throughout the summer, so it shouldn’t be a big deal for them to extend that hospitality. Or maybe it was something else that she wanted? But what?
“You said Spectra talked to you. And she said you were, uh, ‘a good source of misery and teenage angst’, so . . . what did she say to you?”
Glad to know I could be good for a ‘source of misery and teenage angst’ he thought sarcastically. “Well, ah, stuff about us, actually.” There was no reason for him to keep what Spectra had spoken about from her.
She frowned. “Really? What sort of stuff?”
“I think she was stalking us or something, because she knew that I’m not good at making friends . . . Just, she talked about how I’m a loser who can’t give you what you deserve. Andmaybeshewasright,” he added quickly. After all, it wasn’t like his doubts came from nowhere. “I mean, I hate all this fancy rich person stuff that you like so much and—“
“Dipper. That’s not for you to decide—what I ‘deserve’. I like you because you like me for me. You never make me feel like, I don’t know, a trophy like my mom was.” She looked away. “And that’s–you give me that whenever we spend time together. Sometimes I feel like we’re both, I don’t know, our most genuine selves around each other. It sounds stupid now that I say it out loud, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true. Also, no one gets to call you a loser but me.”
“Oh.” That’s not for you to decide. Who was he to take away her choice in this? And maybe she was right about being their genuine selves around each other. There was something about being with her that brought out his confidence, something about her being with him that brought out her caring side, and something about both of them together that brought out enough sass to destroy egos the size of elephants.
“That’s right, Pines.” She leaned her forehead against his.
His heart pounded. “You said you like me.”
“I did say that.” She pulled away, smirking.
“I like you too.”
“Of course,” she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
He smiled, before remembering that she’d told her parents she was leaving. What was her plan? “So,” he said awkwardly, “what are you gonna do now?”
Before she could answer, Cass poked her head in. “Are you done?” She inquired.
“Yeah, you can come back now,” Pacifica told her.
Cass returned to her seat. “I heard a little of what you were saying,” she admitted. “Why don’t you come home with me?”
“Across the country?” Dipper asked at the same time as Pacifica said, “Wow, so is it really Bruce Wayne’s kids who do the adopting the news jokes about?”
Cass laughed. “Usually Bruce does the adopting, but I don’t see why I can’t.”
Dipper and Pacifica shared a glance. Is she really considering . . .? They’d be across the country from each other. But Pacifica had a thoughtful look on her face.
“Could I come back to Gravity Falls in the summer?” Pacifica asked.
“Probably,” Cass replied.
“Do you really want this?” Dipper questioned. There was a lot that came with being in the care of Bruce Wayne. Publicity (though maybe if she was a foster kid, it would be illegal for the news to run stories on her? Dipper didn’t know how the fostering system worked), a thousand siblings, and . . . money. So much money. Just to name a few things.
Pacifica hesitated. She opened her mouth to respond, but a portal appeared in front of them. (Sharon sighed and wished she could be surprised anymore, because she’d spent far too long in Gravity Falls and around the Pines’ various emergencies to bat an eye at a portal appearing out of nowhere.) Claire stepped out, followed by (presumably) Grace, Sam, and Timothy Drake-Wayne.
“Is Mabel okay?” Grace asked.
“She’s being taken care of,” Dipper replied.
“Pacifica Northwest?” Timothy said.
“That’s me.” Pacifica rose to greet him.
“Your parents have been arrested for kidnapping and caviar smuggling.”
Caviar smuggling? Sounded like a rich person version of pug smuggling, something only Grunkle Stan did.
Pacifica deflated. “Oh.”
Dipper stood up and grabbed her hand, giving her a reassuring smile. “I’ll be there for you. Always,” he murmured.
She squeezed his hand back and looked at Cass. “Offer still open?”
“Yep,” Cass said.
Timothy frowned. “What offer?”
“We have a new sister!”
“It’s probably not going to be that simple–”
Cass wrapped an arm around Pacifica’s shoulder. “New. Sister.”
And there was no arguing with that.