Hi Paz!

Sorry it's been a while since last time we talked, we just got back from our vacation (ok, you were right, maybe Mom and Dad should have shelled out for the hotel wifi after all!) and things have been super hectic unpacking in time for Dip-Dop and me to have all our school stuff ready for January. That dope picked up some kind of cold in Massachusetts, and he's been sleeping, like, thirty hours a day since we got back, so I have to do double chores, which is totally lame! (Just trust me!)

How are things back in Gravity Falls? You still working the register at the Shack? Learning responsibility and the value of a dollar and "the customer is always right" and all that stuff? Trust me, it gets easier when you practice! But not too much easier, so once you pad that resume a little we should totally start shopping around for people to produce some of our designs! THE NORTH-PINES FASHION BARREL! THE PINEWEST PALOOZA! You take care of the technical stuff, and I'll come up with ways to reel some aspiring princesses into our clutches!

Anyway, I'll write you again soon, and once Dipper's feeling better he'll probably write you something too. Probably with lots of smooches and stuff! And no, I'm never giving up on that!

Love,
Mabel

Hey Paz,

Sorry it took me so long to write back, the past month has been really crazy here! Dipper says hi, but he's really not doing so good. Remember when I told you he got a cold? Turns out it's actually some kind of weirdo virus or something. There are some days where he's just totally exhausted and others where he can't sleep at all. A week ago when I came home from school his eyes were so red I thought he'd been smoking Dad's stash! (Don't look surprised, I bet your parents do it too when you're not around!)

But other than that, I'm doing ok. School's a little but of drag since Dipper's not around as often as I'd like, but my friends here are good, and talking to you and everyone else back in Gravity Falls keeps me going! Can't wait to hear from you!

Love,
Mabel

Paz,

Listen, I'm really sorry it took me so long to get back to you. Things have been bad lately. Dipper's getting worse. There are some days where he can barely get out of bed at all, and he keeps saying he's cold even when he's wrapped up in blankets. The doctors don't seem to know what's wrong with him, or if they're telling our parents, then they're not telling us. I don't know if it's because he can't sleep or what, but he's really hard to deal with sometimes too. (That sounded so mean! I just mean it's really stressful!)

Last week we were eating dinner, watching Ghost Harassers, and I noticed he was really quiet. I thought maybe he was asleep, but I looked over to him, and he was staring at me with this look, like I was doing something wrong! I asked him what was eating him, and he flinched like I was gonna hit him and then he got mad and started yelling at me, saying it was my fault! I don't even know what he was talking about. He's been snapping at me and our parents a lot lately, and I know he's really stir-crazy on top of being sick, but that doesn't make it any easier to live with. It's not like we're not all worried about him too. He's been coughing a lot the past couple of days, like he has the flu or something. I've been feeling a little lousy myself, too.

During the spring break, we're both coming back to Gravity Falls though! Dipper isn't sure if he's healthy enough to do as much exploring as he'd like, but he thinks the fresh air will help him. I don't really know about that, but it's worth a shot, right? I know being around all you guys, and you especially, will cheer us both up!

See you soon!

Mabel

The taste of whiskey was acrid in her mouth, its flavor only slightly enhanced by the satisfaction she took in having spirited it away from her father's liquor cabinet. It wouldn't be missed; Preston and Priscilla Northwest kept expensive alcohol around more for its aesthetic value than for any real enjoyment that could be taken in it. Pacifica, on the other hand, was better acquainted with plebeian drinks, dating back to last summer, when her best friend Mabel had dared her brother to take a swig of their Gruncle Stan's favored beer. Dipper had made a face when he swallowed it, but declared it "not all that bad." Naturally, Pacifica and Mabel had had to test that assertion for themselves, and the evening had degenerated over the next few hours. That pleasant summer seemed like much longer than half a year ago.

Mabel's infrequent letters had prepared her for the twins being more subdued, but the girl's optimism had influenced her writing. When the twins had stepped off the bus in Gravity Falls and Pacifica ran to them to sweep them both up in an hug, Dipper had help up a hand quickly as he doubled over, his face buried in the crook of his arm as his thin form was wracked with a coughing fit. Mabel looked like she hadn't slept in days, and had offered a customary huge grin, but warned Pacifica against getting too close to either of them, just in case. Eventually, Dipper's fit passed, and he greeted her as warmly as he seemed able to. His voice had deepened over the years, but the painful croaking quality it had at that moment was heartbreaking. She had tried to make light of it, joking that his singing career was over before it began, but the siblings were unusually somber, the jab drawing only a small smile from Mabel. Pacifica drove them both to the Shack, the conversation revolving around bringing all parties up to speed, avoiding the elephant in the room until Dipper was overtaken by a surge of wheezing coughs that lasted nearly a full minute. She had stopped the car and turned to the twins in the back seat as Mabel held Dipper steady as his body jerked forwards with each cough. Eventually, it passed, and they must have seen the frightened look on her face. Misinterpreting it as a justifiable concern for herself, Dipper had forced a smile and whispered, "Don't worry Paz, it can't be airborne. Mom and Dad aren't showing any symptoms. Mabel and I must have picked it up from someplace we went to in Massachusetts, so you're safe."

She had nodded, and looked to Mabel with the intent to ask if either of them wanted a drink from a convenience store or something, but to her shock she'd seen the Pines sister's face contort into an ugly sneer as she rolled her eyes. "There he goes again, acting like he knows better than the doctors." Dipper whirled on her and opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but as he moved, his eyes went wide and he brought a hand up to his chest in pain. Mabel's expression quickly turned to one of concern as she put her hands on his shoulders to hold him again, rubbing her brother's back as he breathed laboriously and slowly. She chastised her brother to take it easy, and he sank gently into his seat, his eyes closed. Turning to her, Mabel smiled sadly. "Sorry to make you see us like this, Paz. We couldn't sleep too much on the bus, so we were thinking of watching a movie tonight, if you're interested?"

She was, of course. There was no way she was going to just let her friends wallow in that dusty shack without at least making them laugh and remember some good times to boost their spirits. Soos and Melody had welcomed them all with big hugs despite Mabel's cautions, though Pacifica noticed Dipper winced a little at the strength of the older man's embrace. As Melody and Mabel drove to the store to pick up some snacks for their impromptu movie night and Soos bustled in the kitchen cooking up something possibly palatable, Pacifica found herself alone with Dipper in the living room as the last rays of sunlight filtered in through the grimy windows and fell in exhaustion on the dusty carpet. He had smiled at her, the bags under his eyes more noticeable than they'd ever been. "It's...I'm happy to see you, Paz."

"Well, yeah, who wouldn't be?" she said with feigned haughtiness as she sat down next to him on a couch only somewhat less raggedy than the one the Shack's previous owners had. "It's not every day the most beautiful girl on the West Coast drives you around and watches bad movies with you. And don't think you're getting more than your fair share of popcorn just cause you're sick, by the way!" She flashed him a smile, hoping to see his face redden and his eyes light up like they usually did after having been apart for a while. Instead, he sank deeper into the couch and drew a shuddering breath.

"Pacifica, listen," he said softly, his gaze focused on a blank spot on the far wall. "I don't know if telling you this is the right thing to do, but...the truth is, I heard one of the doctors we went to talking to my parents." She felt her heart pick up in pace, but managed to keep still. She could practically feel his leaden words in her gut. "They don't know what it is, but me and Mabel...we're not getting better. And it's not just physical things. There was a day not too long ago when I couldn't remember Wendy's last name. It took me ten minutes just to convince Mabel I wasn't kidding around, and, like, another hour before 'Corduroy' sounded right. And I don't know if Mabel told you in her letters, but it's changed...sometimes I do things without understanding why."

She bit back a joke, overcoming the urge to try and lighten a mood that clearly wasn't lifting anytime soon. "She just said you were acting weird, but you're sick, that's-"

He faced her again, moving faster than she'd seen him move all day, his eyes brimming with a sudden anger. She leaned away from him in sudden fright. "It's not just weird, I nearly-" He seemed to realize in an instant how close he'd gotten so quickly, and scooted away from her a little on the couch, his eyes cast downward as he drew a steady breath. "It's worse than that. I...a couple weeks ago, Mabel said something, I don't even remember what, but it just set me off. I..." He shuddered, and closed his eyes. In the grim silence of the room, she strained to hear him whisper, "I nearly punched her. Like, for real. My own sister." She didn't know what to say to that, but she put a hand on his shoulder as she tried to think of diseases that could cause violent episodes. None were comforting thoughts. "I don't know how bad it's going to get. It might get to the point w-where..." His voice caught, and she wrapped her arms around him from behind. Though she couldn't see his face, she could tell from his shudders that he was just barely holding back a flood of tears. "Maybe it's selfish, but I wanted to come here again, to see everyone, and I h-h-hoped I wouldn't screw it up, and let you...I don't know what's going to happen to me, or how long I'll even be-"

"Shut up," she said, her voice muffled as her face was buried in his curly hair. She hoped it could hide the fear in her voice. "You're being stupid, dork. Everything's going to be fine, you're both going to get better, you'll see. I'll...I'll ask my parents. We know specialists. I'll do whatever it takes, just stop talking like you're already dead!" She could feel his heartbeat through her chest, their pulses quickening together. They stayed like that for a second, neither speaking as the quiet in the room was broken by the occasional sniffle.

"Thanks," Dipper said at last, shifting in her arms to face her. He was smiling again, and up close she could see how exhausted he looked. She thought she probably looked pretty lousy too at that moment herself. "It means a lot to me, Paz. I don't think there's anything-"

"There's always something," she interrupted, half for his sake and half because she needed to hear someone say it.

"You know," he said, his voice finally taking on the playful tone she'd missed so much since last year, "when we first met, I thought you were just the worst." She bit her tongue, but privately she hated being reminded of how arrogant she was when they were both much younger. "If someone had told me that by now I'd- that we'd be such good friends, I probably would have thought it was the weirdest idea in the whole town."

She laughed a little, and drew her sleeve across her face. She couldn't help but wonder what Dipper had been going to say before deciding on them being 'good friends,' but figured that it wasn't the best time to broach the subject. "Yeah, you're welcome. Just...try to tone down the doom and gloom, ok? You're here." Brown eyes locked onto blue, and on a sudden impulse, she took one of his hands in hers. "You're safe here." She said quietly, as she blushed, her eyes dropping to where their hands were touching, unable to focus on his face. As her gaze traveled over his arms, though, she noticed something around his bicep, underneath his shirt sleeve. A layer of pale white cloth, roughly textured. She could only see a fragment of what she realized immediately was a much larger piece, but just from that small bit she could tell what it was, and her insides churned with the knowledge.

Noticing where she was looking, he half-smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, uh, I coughed so hard recently I apparently bruised my ribs. It's still sore, but...not that big a deal. Really." He shrugged, and tried to play it off as if it didn't bother him, that his body was literally tearing itself apart. "It doesn't hurt that much anymore," he lied.

"Okay," she'd said quietly. They'd sat in silence, his hand in hers, for a few minutes more, before Melody and Mabel returned and they'd all tried to spend an evening together like nothing was wrong.

And so, hours later, in the dead of night, Pacifica picked a small glass up from her floor where she sat cross-legged and swallowed the last finger of alcohol in it. On her vanity, a scented candle melted merrily and spread a pleasant vanilla scent through the room, the better to hide the odor of a smoldering clump of sage sitting in a plate next to it. She strained her eyes to read the text on the yellowed pages of the journal she'd deftly borrowed from Dipper's things, hoping he would be too tired to notice it was missing that night. Focusing on the text before her, she cleared her throat, her heart fluttering with fear over what she was about to do. "Triangulum, entangulum," she began.

She wasn't certain it would even do anything. And if it did, would the creature that had nearly destroyed the town and maybe the world be willing to bargain with her?

"Veneforis dominus ventium."

More importantly, if he was, what would his price be?

"Veneforis venetisarium."

The words seemed to echo several times in the confines of her room, as the candle flickered in a nonexistent wind. A harsh buzzing noise grew in her right ear, like a fly was near, but as she turned to face it, the sound changed position, now on her left. As she tried to follow it, it kept getting louder, and as it started to get physically painful, grinding against her skull like a jackhammer, she closed her eyes, and held her hands over her ears as hard as she could. All of a sudden, the noise stopped, and she heard, with perfect clarity, the lilting and condescending tone that every resident of Gravity Falls remembered no matter how much they wanted to forget.

"Well, well, well!" She opened her eyes and looked around. She couldn't see him, in fact, nothing in her room looked at all out of place. Nevertheless, he was there. "It's been few minutes, hasn't it, Llama? I always had a feeling about you. I had you pegged right away, you just can't resist the call to fame and fortune, right? Well, you came to the right guy, Llama. It's all within the domain of dreams, and I'm all about helping people realize their dreams." The voice seemed to come from every corner of the room at once, and after realizing that he wasn't letting himself be seen (or perhaps he simply couldn't be, anymore), she cast her eyes down at the floor as she summoned up the courage to speak.

"Cipher," she started, trying to will herself to sound like she knew what she was doing and wasn't feeling the effects of the high-proof alcohol that was coursing through her system. "I need something, but not for me. And before you get started, I'm not letting you into anyone's mind, or bringing you back from wherever you are. I'm not asking for-"

"A miracle?" he finished playfully. "No, no, Llama, you don't have to say it. You just want a little push in the right direction, right? The proud and noble Northwest scion can handle the real work on her own, is that it?" He laughed then, just a restrained sort of giggle, but it sent an icy knife through her chest at the sound of it. "So what's eating you, Llama, need some investment tips? I remember gold being pretty solid."

"My friends are sick," she said evasively, not sure if mentioning the twins by name would provoke him into lashing out at her. "I don't know what it is."

"Aww, pathetic mon-keigh science not doing its job? It wasn't too long ago that I remember your kind thinking leeches could cure everything. Have you tried that with Pine Tree and Shooting Star?" She flinched at his derisive nicknames for them. "Because I can see them from here, Llama. And no human medicine man can help them. Ha, unless maybe he's got some leeches!"

"You know what's wrong with them?" She asked, before kicking herself for playing into his hand by revealing just how little she knew.

"Oh, Llama, who do you think planted the seeds to begin with?" He said, his tone gleeful and mocking. "Did you really think I didn't have a plan for revenge all this time? Did you really think I'd just let them go without a parting gift? No, no, no, this is my gift to them. To all of you, once it spreads far enough. And it will spread, Llama, once they start to turn, the Scourge will-" He stopped abruptly, perhaps realizing that he had let himself say too much. Perhaps it was a moment of genuine weakness in his current condition. Then again, it could just as easily have been a trick to make her think he wasn't as together as he once was. "Well, there's more than one way to set a planet on fire, Llama."

"What do you mean," she interrupted, "by turn?"

There was silence for a moment before he continued. "No fun in spoiling it for you. But let's just say that Pine Tree won't be in any condition to return your...obvious affections for him anymore. That is why you wanted to talk to me, isn't it? You want me to cure them both?"

"I can do it myself, I just want information!" She said, trying to get to the bargaining. Mabel had told her of how the demon had tricked her into handing over the keys to his plan before. Pacifica didn't know exactly whether she had already damned the world by even contacting Cipher wherever he was, but at the moment, even the ultimate fate of the world seemed irrelevant. "I don't want you to just snap your fingers in exchange for my mind, or whatever, I just want to know where I should be looking!"

"In exchange for?"

She bit her lip and took a chance. "A favor. Something small, nothing that will hurt anyone. All I'm asking for is information." He didn't say anything, and she sensed, perhaps irrationally, that she needed to press him. "This Scourge thing, if you did it, and humans can't figure it out, it's from your world, right? From the Mindscape or whatever? If you tell me how to get there and get out again, I'll get whatever the cure is myself."

Across the room, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that the full-length mirror on her wall was shimmering. It was starting to glow with a soft white light that couldn't have been a reflection of anything in the room itself. The candle on her vanity sputtered, and nearly died in some breeze she couldn't feel. "Tell you how to get there," repeated the voice slowly, as if considering her words, "and how to get out."

"How to get back here," she clarified.

There was silence for a moment. She tried to ignore the way the images in her mirror were beginning to distort. Her eyes darted from one end of the room to the other, but they kept being drawn back to the mirror, and each time she couldn't help but notice the reflected image was different somehow. First it showed her room brightly lit, with sunlight streaming in through the windows, and someone (her?) collapsed on the floor next to the bed. Then the room as it was now, upside-down. Then a night not so different from this one, and two figures locked together like puzzle pieces on her bed. A dear memory, and one she resented Cipher knowing about.

"The Mindscape isn't a store you walk into, blondie," came his mocking tone at last. "I can tell you a way into Pine Tree's mind, and I can even fashion a way out for you, for when you finally give up. And as for what I'd want in return..." She held her breath and closed her eyes. It wasn't often she had ever had to worry about meeting someone's price, and honestly wasn't sure what she would do if he wanted her soul or something like that. Pacifica wasn't religious, really, and never gave much thought to metaphysics outside of late-night discussions with the twins. She wasn't even certain if Cipher cared about things like souls, or if he just loved chaos. She knew that even contacting him was probably a greater danger than either sibling would have condoned for their sake, but to Pacifica, they were the only real friends she'd really had. If saving them meant losing herself, it was a small price to pay. That was just what friends did, or so she'd been led to believe. "In return," he began again, "you'll entertain me."

Her heart skipped a beat. Taken completely aback, all she could come up with as a rejoinder was, "Huh?"

"This little self-sacrificing desire of yours, it's hilarious!" he said, the mirth in his voice evident. "Honestly, watching you flounder around and fail is reward enough for me! You don't have to go out of your way to get me anything, Llama. Just do what you do best: act like everything's under control until things don't go your way, then run home crying and begging for forgiveness from the people you couldn't live up to the expectations of. Because what you're asking? It's beyond Pine Tree and Shooting Star. You're going to be doing brain surgery with a sledgehammer. One wrong move and BAM! there goes your lover's whole childhood! And that's what I'll be watching for from here, Llama. You'll screw up and make everything worse, and then your friends will tell you it's alright, but inside, they'll hate you. And you'll know it. It's like candy to me!" He laughed a shrill, cruel laugh that somehow made her teeth hurt, and she shut her eyes as hard as she could and wrapped her hands around her knees, doubling over in pain. After a few seconds, the noise subsided. Her ears ringing, she opened her eyes. Lying on the ground in front of her was a thin cane, one that she could see even in the dim candelight was no ordinary accessory. The shaft wasn't wood, but a blackened metal, both sides honed to what appeared to be deadly edges, one end of it tapering into a fine point. The handle of it had a short metal covering that would allow a person to grasp it and use it as a weapon, and it shone with an unnatural blue light. Next to the cane lay on old-fashioned syringe, an attached vial about half full of some dark fluid.

"Take the cane, Llama, because you'll need it where you're going. The syringe has half the key in it already. Fill the rest with Pine Tree's blood, give it a good shake, and inject it right here-" Suddenly, she felt a sharp prod in her upper right thigh, and clutched it quickly, whirling around to see what was attacking her. She was alone in the room, and the pain dissipated as quickly as it had come, leaving only a lingering impression of contact on her sensitive skin. "-and you're on your way, off on your own adventure. I'll be there to show you the gate, and we'll sign and seal the deal then. Unless, of course, you'd rather just comfort your friends in their last days."

Suddenly, she felt herself alone in the room, the malicious presence gone from her private space. Were it not for the lingering fear she felt and the two strange objects he'd left, she might have chalked the whole thing up to a vivid dream. Pacifica was overcome then with an exhaustion like she had just run a marathon, and after tidying up the candles she had set out and stowing both the syringe and the bladed cane in her voluminous closet, she collapsed onto her bed and fell into an uneasy slumber.