If you're looking for a way to torture yourself, go watch Not What He Seems and read a bunch of fanfic and commentary on it. I'm actually somewhat scared for the next episode. In the meantime, here's my interpretation of the aftermath fic. I seriously hope Pacifica makes an appearance in the next episode.

I own nothing!

It's not that Mabel didn't trust him - though he can't lie, that one hurt. It's not even that he can't trust her - though it's gonna be a while before he feels comfortable again.

It's that he can't trust himself, apparently. Not anymore.

He's the logical one. Always has been. Facts and reasoning, those are what he goes by - a dramatic difference from Mabel's firm, unfailing devotion to the people she loves. And that's why Mabel's the better of them, maybe. She chooses to believe the best of people, to love them unconditionally. She doesn't abandon the people she loves.

(Except when those people are her brother, and just for once he needs her to put him over a boy, and-)

He bites his lip. This is stupid. Everything he's bringing to mind is in the past. Apologies have been given and awkward hugs have been had. Every trial that's been thrown their way, they've come out of it – together.

Except this time. This time is different. This time is painful, awkward glances, long silences and cleared throats, distanced shuffling into the house. This time is avoiding eye contact and half-hearted questions and Dipper hiding in the attic like he's a five-year-old.

He certainly feels like one, he thinks bitterly. A stupid child, so confident that they're right, that they're doing what's best, when in reality they're completely blind, one step away from ruining everything.

And there it is again. It's not the others he can't trust – it's himself. When's the last time he's been right about something? And even if he's been right, when's the last time he made the right decision? It's always Mabel with the right call. She's the moral one, the one who follows her heart and makes things right. Mabel's the alpha twin, Mabel's the good twin – what does that make him?

The bad one?

If anything, that should mean that Mabel's the one he can trust. Mabel cares – Mabel will make it right.

Except-

Except where was Mabel when he lost Wendy? Where was Mabel when everyone laughed at him for being so completely pathetic?

Heck, where was Mabel when he was screaming pointlessly for hours in a grayscale world, left to watch helplessly as Bill all but straight up destroyed his body, then used it to hurt the people he loved? Had - had she really been so caught up with that puppet boy that she hadn't noticed? 'By the by'? When has he ever said anything like that?

…is he really so unnoticeable that no one realized it wasn't him?

Dipper buries his face in his hands. Drowning himself in self-pity won't help anything. Bringing up past hurts certainly won't fix the rift between him and his family. He just needs to suck it up and get over it. He just – he just-

He needs to get out of here. Not permanently, he just needs space - before he lashes out and says something he doesn't really mean, before he hurts Mabel again.

He made her cry. What kind of brother does that?

(One that's always wrong and always alone and always second best and-)

Right. He needs to get out of here. But where is he supposed to go? Unlike Mabel, he hasn't made any close friends, save Wendy, maybe – but he's a stuttering mess in front of Wendy, and the last thing on earth he wants to do is go unload all his emotional issues in front of her.

And there's the awful twisting in his chest again – Mabel would never have this problem. Not perfect Mabel, who has plenty of friends. Mabel, who's the polar opposite of her loser, friendless brother.

If he's honest with himself, there's no one he can go to. There's no one in this town he's been immediately comfortable with, no one he's been able to speak freely to, no one who would understand what it's like to feel isolated from their family-

Well. Actually-

Against the warning of the butler and the doubtless wishes of her parents (not that she'd know, she hasn't seem then since the party night), Pacifica finds herself hopping the Northwest mansion walls and running down to the town mere minutes after the world's stopped going crazy. There's a light rain that has her grabbing her rain jacket as she leaves, but it's not that bad – and it gives her cover as she dodges the security cameras. It doesn't take her very long to reach the main town, and the sight that greets her is shocking.

It looks as if someone lifted half the town up and that dropped it, leaving it to crash to the ground – which, Pacifica supposes, is what happened. There are trucks overturned on their sides, signs hanging off buildings by single nails, and traffic lights sparking from where they're tangled in debris. People run around in the light rain, fixing what they can with expressions of disbelief of their faces. Other simply stand in the doors of the half-wrecked shops, talking frantically into their phones or conversing angrily with each other.

A young boy streaks past her legs as she walks, yelling for his mother. Pacifica feels a surge of relief as a dark-haired woman steps out of a shop, pulling to the boy to her and hugging him tightly.

At least there are some parents in this town who can do their job right, Pacifica thinks bitterly.

To be honest, though, her own parents haven't been as bad as she's expected - yet. The most they've done to punish her so far is taken all her electronic devices and swapped her meals for that "awful store-brand stuff"'. She actually hasn't seem them at all since then - probably because they're too busy trying to smooth over the party with all the ambassadors, she thinks sourly. They probably didn't even notice that gravity stopped working for a bit. They certainly hadn't bothered to come check on her.

She continues down the street, occasionally stopping to help people with lifting debris, but otherwise simply staring at the wreckage with wide eyes. The streets echo with nervous murmuring as people hurry through the rain, snatches of conversation reaching her ears.

"-just out of the blue, everything started floating-"

"-up and down and up and down, darn near took out my house-"

"-it's those government people, I tell you, messing around up at the Pines' place-"

Pacifica freezes at that last one. Of course the Pines would have something to do with this. They're always the first on the scene when weird stuff like this happens.

Except now, when they're very noticeably absent.

She bites her lip. They're fine. Of course they are. It's not like she cares, anyways. They could be buried under two tons of wreckage for all she cares.

She swallows. She really, really hopes they aren't.

Maybe she should go check on them. It certainly wouldn't hurt. And if they are in trouble with the government, they're going to need a Northwest on their side.

Simply to get the government out of Gravity Falls, that's all, she reasons. He father's never been too keen on having anyone with connections like that come snooping around their family history, that's for sure.

Maybe the butler will drive her to the Mystery Shack if she pays him. Pacifica's just ducking into a shop to ask if she can borrow a phone when she sees him, standing just off of the main road. Dipper Pines, wet hair plastered to his forehead and red-rimmed eyes staring at the wreckage in horror.

He looks awful, she thinks. She's seen him happy, she's seen him determined, she's seen him angry, she's seen him scared – but she's never seen him so completely beaten down before. She's never seen him heartbroken.

She doesn't like it.

She slips out of the shop, walking carefully towards him. Dipper notices her with a slight jerk of surprise, then gives her a pathetic, half-hearted wave. She stops just in front of him, staring at him in concern.

"Are you-"

"I'm fine," he says. "Mabel is too," he adds, in afterthought.

"Oh," she says. "Um - good."

He studies her, eyebrows furrowing in concern. "You?"

"I'm good," she says, shrugging. They stand there in silence, the rain slowly chilling them both.

"Ah - were you looking for someone?"

"Yeah," Dipper says, looking nervous (but still utterly beaten down). "Uh - you, actually."

"Oh," Pacifica says. "Wait – what?"

"Never mind," Dipper says, face flushing. "I was being stupid. Sorry."

He turns away, hunched in on himself and looking completely miserable. Pacifica feels something in her shatter.

"Wait!"

Her hand catches the edge of his vest and he whips around, startled.

"Look, um – my family's got an extra cabin we never use that's not far from here. I sneak in there sometimes when I'm stressed, or when… when everything's going wrong."

Dipper's eyes are wide on hers, full of bottled up emotion. Pacifica swallows.

"So if you, uh, wanted to - I don't know, talk, or something – we could go there."

Dipper stares at her for another minute, then nods slowly.

"If that's – if you don't… mind?"

"Nah," Pacifica says, giving him a weak smile. "It'll tick my parent's off that I'm bringing common filth there. That's a win for me."

And she's not entirely sure, but she swears she can see a ghost of a smile on Dipper's face as she calls up the butler.

The cabin is exactly as she remembers it – dusty and decorated to display obscene wealth. It's dark and cold, but it's also quiet and empty – something Dipper clearly appreciates as they step inside. After waving her butler off, slipping him a wad of cash with instructions not to tell her parents (something he's used to by now), she fumbles with the light switches, the chandeliers casting the cabin in a dull glow as she cranks the heat up.

Dipper is still shivering in the hall, rainwater dripping down his forehead and off his clothes as he looks around, hesitant.

"Here," she says, tossing him one of the rustic-patterned blankets that are draped over the chairs. "You're getting water all over the carpet."

"It's always about the carpet," Dipper murmurs, but he pulls the blanket around him gratefully.

Pacifica rolls her eyes, shrugging off her rain jacket and flicking on the electric fireplace, curling up on the floor before it. She gestures to the spot of carpet near her, and after a beat, Dipper joins her.

The fire pops and sparks as they sit, silence thick between them.

"So, um…" Pacifica finally says. "What did you want to talk about?"

"It's – it's kind of a long story," Dipper says, staring at the carpet pattern.

"Well, my parents are off doing who knows what, so I have time, I guess," Pacifica says. Dipper shoots her a look and she shrugs.

"I – um, it's not… it's…" Dipper trails off, almost retreating into the blanket. The shadows cast by the fire make the dark circles under his eyes look like ugly bruising, and there's a telltale sheen to his eyes Pacifica doesn't want to think about right now.

Pacifica tugs on her hair, unsure.

"Look, you don't have to talk about it if you want-"

"Everything's wrong," Dipper strangles out, miserably. "Everything's wrong and I don't – I don't know what to do."

"I thought-" Dipper swallows, staring hard at the window. "I thought I knew what I was doing. All the facts were there, everything said that the machine was deadly, that we couldn't trust Stan-"

Dipper cuts off, swallowing hard again. Pacifica remains silent. She has little to no idea of what he's talking about, but the pain in his voice is story enough.

"I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought Mabel was with me, that she trusted me, that – I just wanted to protect her," Dipper faltered. "And everything was – I was so scared, and I should've known, but I thought – I thought we were all going to die!"

Dipper buries his face in his hands. Pacifica sucks in a breath.

"And then Mabel trusted him," he continues, voice muffled and miserable. "She trusted him. Not me." He gives a sharp, bitter laugh.

"Which ended up being the right choice, of course. Leave it to me and Stan's brother would have been trapped again. Leave it to me and I would've ruined everything."

Dipper presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, trembling.

"I'm so stupid, Pacifica, I'm so stupid, I always screw things up and now it's my fault Mabel doesn't trust me, and I made her cry, and I just – I can't do anything right-"

Dipper takes a shuddering breath. Pacifica's heart is screaming at her to do something, to get that awful expression off his face.

"I'm not a bad person," he whispers brokenly, voice cracking.

Pacifica hugs him, arms wrapping tightly around his skinny frame. She's beyond relieved when he returns her embrace, gripping her as if she's the only thing tethering him to the earth. They sit there, Dipper sobbing quietly into Pacifica's shoulder as the rain pounds on the cabin roof, and Pacifica thinks.

Everything is different now.