My sister and I usually do Pokemon fanfics together, but she wanted to do something else, and we put this team effort here for reasons we don't have to explain. We were planning this for months, but only now did it go beyond its rough draft stage. This is an AU and we know it, as it completely ignores the credits scene in "The Stanchurian Candidate" and anything that may happen after.
WARNINGS: This story contains fan characters, one-sided romance with fan characters (not from the REAL characters' side, don't worry about that) and fan characters being giant bags of jerk. The first chapter was even written during the hiatus after "Not What He Seems," and editing was rushed. Next chapter will improve.
In the lives of most fifteen-year-old twins, summer would be spent hanging out with friends by the pool, attempting to push the other into said pool when the lifeguards weren't looking, and bonding over crushes even if they're a mixed-gender pair. For Dipper and Mabel Pines, such things were boring.
"We had a really great time up there," Mabel was saying, looking hopefully at her parents. "It's the only time I've ever seen Dipper so happy to be outside! I met lots of cute boys, he spent all summer chasing 'imaginary' monsters, we had fun!"
Mrs. Pines noticed her daughter's finger-quotes around the word imaginary, and seized it tightly. "Why did you put air quotes in your sentence, Mabel?"
Mabel smiled innocently. "I put quotation marks around lots of stuff," she replied, putting in as much sweetness as she could manage without arousing further suspicion. "Like the time I said that Waddles 'ate' the couch cushions."
"The pig did eat the couch cushions," her father corrected.
"And what conclusion can you draw from that?"
Dipper had to hand it to her, she'd become a master at creative truth-telling. She didn't like to lie, but now, she never needed to. A few missing details, a distracting word or phrase, and conclusions were quickly jumped to. It was a really impressive talent.
He cut in before his father could object. "And we have to see how Ford's been adjusting after thirty years in...wherever he ended up. I'm still not sure where that was."
Mr. Pines considered. His kids were intelligent, certainly capable of taking care of themselves, even if Mabel was a bit off at times. And they did have very capable adults in Gravity Falls, mixed in with all of the, shall we say, beings of lesser intelligence. "I thought I told you last time, you had to say goodbye to your 'grunkles' forever."
"We're teenagers now," Dipper reminded him. "Three years feels like forever."
Mabel, who had unfortunately been drinking something as he said it, squeezed her bottle of flavored water a bit too tightly and was punished for it. Starting with getting splashed up the nose, the liquid soon began dripping down her chin as she broke down laughing. Her mother was right behind her.
"Why not?" Mrs. Pines finally decided. "It's not like they haven't seen crazy stuff before."
And so it was that the twins packed up to spend another summer up in Gravity Falls.
Their parents dropped them off at the Mystery Shack only a week later, where the first person they saw was Stan, who seemed to be going in for the big con. The victim, a pale, slightly chubby man with brown hair, didn't seem to be more than mildly interested, while a woman and teenage boy lurked around the gift shop themselves.
"Almost got him," was the first thing Stan said to Mrs. Pines instead of a hello. Mrs. Pines rolled her eyes and prodded her husband forward.
"Stan," Dipper and Mabel's father started. "I love my children, but they're your problem now. You and...Ford...promised to look after them again."
Three years later and he still hadn't gotten used to the name switch, it seemed. Well, thirty years of thinking the real Stanley was dead would do that.
"Yeah, I remember. Where are they, anyway?" Mabel waved from behind her mother. Stan did a double take, not noticing that the man got away in his confusion. "Wait a minute, this is them? They're so tall!"
"Nice to see you, too, Stan," Dipper said, struggling not to join his mother in the eye rolling.
"And when did he start sounding like an actual guy?" Stan poked his great-nephew with his cane. "You get muscle yet, Dipper?"
Dipper tried not to let his embarrassment show. He'd made it known in school that he'd rather sit and read then play sports, and what had happened when he caved in and tried to join the boy's basketball team wasn't something mentioned in the Pines house, ever. Mabel still wasn't sure how he managed to hurt himself in the face by throwing a ball, but she'd agreed that Dipper was a mystery himself.
"I'm working on it," Dipper finally said.
Stan turned on Mabel. "What about you? Your parents told me you were trying to start some kind of business?"
"Yes." While her brother had decided to throw himself into his detective stories, Mabel had taken to 'branching out' in her strange fashion choices, buying clothes in thrift stores and altering them, and attempting to sell her creations on the internet. At the moment, she was wearing a rainbow dress held up by shiny purple ribbons, which had been white and strapless when she'd found it.
"Good. If you need any tips, you know where to find me."
Mabel knew him well enough to know that asking him for advice was a bad idea, but she bit back the response to that and replaced it with, "Sure, Grunkle Stan."
"Excuse me, sir!" the man called. "You were going to show me some amulets that were supposed to protect me from evil?"
"Oh, right." Stan adjusted his hat and returned to his con. "Now, over here, we've got the general objects - curse deflectors, vampire detectors..."
The twins watched him go, Dipper shaking his head slowly and Mabel trying to get a look at the teenage boy's face.
"Seriously, though," she said, "I wonder if Ford and Stan would let me design some merchandise."
"Where is Ford?" Dipper wondered out loud. "I knew he finally gave in and let Stan use his house, but you'd think he'd be keeping an eye on him..."
"The Other Mr. Pines is down in the lab, dudes," Soos's voice said, and the twins immediately turned for a high-five. "He's got some kind of device down there that he found washed up at the beach."
"I'm going to help him out," Dipper said immediately. "Can you handle whatever Stan asks you on your own?"
"There's a guy here!" was the only response Mabel had to that. Dipper took it as a yes.
Upon sending Dipper and Mabel home the first time, the real Stanford Pines had somehow been convinced that Soos was incapable of holding any other job, and now reluctantly allowed Stan to keep operating the Mystery Shack for the "gopher man's" sake. He even occasionally played the eccentric scientist that backed up everything Mr. Mystery said, though he preferred to be the one keeping the real monsters away from the tourists. He'd even somewhat repaired his friendship with McGucket, though for some reason the former mechanic had fun embracing his reputation as a loony old hillbilly. It was generally accepted by those that were in on the secret that once the town kook put on his glasses, he ceased to be Old Man McGucket and immediately switched back to Fiddleford - which was usually considered a bad omen, aside from the occasional serious discussions in the basement lab of the Mystery Shack.
Discussions like the one Dipper had currently walked right in on.
"Did we even come across one before?" McGucket was saying, picking at the bandage that was still stuck to his beard. "We know of their existence, but not how to stop an invasion."
"You'll yank your hair off," Ford said, smacking the hand away. "I'm sure we have notes somewhere."
"I haven't seen that machine before, or I'd know what we were doing."
"What machine?" Dipper offered, and both men nearly fell out of their chairs at the shock of the new voice coming from what was thought to be a locked lab.
"I thought you shut that thing behind you," Dipper heard Ford spit from between clenched teeth.
McGucket held up his hands, before lowering them in another attempt to remove the unnecessary bandage from his facial hair.
The six-fingered man turned to face the boy, welcoming but a little unsure. "I thought you and your sister wouldn't be coming until next week."
"You got your calendar wrong." Dipper squeezed past him and tried looking for the device. "Do you guys have any leads?"
"One," McGucket said shortly. "It was made before internet. Maybe before Ben Franklin discovered electricity...or am I mixing him up with Newton again?"
Both Pines men left him to his thoughts and half-crazed ramblings, aware that they wouldn't get anywhere with him for the next half hour. Ford handed a small item to the boy, who turned it around in his hands for a few moments.
"Dipper, the closest thing we have is that it was most likely powered by black magic. And if there's one thing I've learned, it's that the two things that aren't supposed to be mixed under any circumstances are black magic and mad science. I honestly can not stress that enough."
"You don't go casting random spells you read on trees just to see what they do," McGucket added, as if that made sense.
"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" Ford chuckled as McGucket fell silent, muttering something about it being personal.
"Back on topic," Dipper interrupted, "what even makes you think that it's even a machine?"
And that was how Dipper got way over his head in theories.
Two days later found Dipper at the counter just before closing, where a tall, thin man was investigating something that Stan called 'vampire detectors,' which of course were just compact mirrors with the Mystery Shack sign painted on the back. He seemed to be looking for a more 'manly' version.
"Are you looking for anything in particular?" Dipper asked, and the man turned.
"These vampire detectors," he said, gesturing at the mirrors. "Are you sure they actually work?"
"Wait, what?" This man was actually thinking that some junk from a gift shop actually worked? "Um, I mean, I've never really used them, so I can't make recommendations. I don't think my great-uncles would mind the extra cash, if you want to figure it out for yourself. How many do you need?"
"I wasn't saying I wanted to buy one. I was just looking them over."
Dipper tried to look the man in the eyes, but he had to look away quickly. The stare was making him uncomfortable, and he knew instinctively that continuing the conversation was a bad idea.
The sound of footsteps came to his rescue, and Mabel slid into view with a flashlight in her hand. She was clearly on a mission, and, just as instinctively, both Dipper and the dark-haired man knew they did not want to get involved with that, either.
Mabel refused to let her brother get out of it. "Hey Dipper, does this flashlight seem too bright to you?" She shifted the flashlight in her hand, drawing their attention, and turned it on with no further warning. It was too bright, and Dipper was sure he'd be seeing purple spots for days. The man had a much, much better reaction.
Without warning, he bared his teeth, showing sharp, pointed fangs. His eyes narrowed, he threw his arm up in self-defense, and he made a sound that could only be described as a hiss before Mabel clicked it off, triumphant
"You are a vampire!" she declared, waving the light at him. The man straightened, looking vaguely ashamed. "I knew it!"
"What even...?" The man, the vampire, regained his composure, staring at Mabel in complete horror. "How in the name of Walt Disney did you manage to figure it out when I've never even seen you before?"
"I've seen you," she said creepily, almost singing the words. "I went monster hunting with my friends Candy and Grenda last night. Well, we weren't hunting anything, really, more like making sure everything is the same as I remember it. We were out by the mayor's house, heard a weird noise, Candy pulled out her compact mirror to check for that hide-behind thing, and you don't show up even though you're there when we turn around."
The vampire stopped, whatever he was about to say already dead on his tongue. Then, defeated, he threw his hands up in a gesture of 'Forget this, I'm done.' "Yes, the...mayor." He pronounced the word with an unidentified distaste, but didn't elaborate. "You seem to be aware of Gravity Falls and its inhabitants. I moved here because I've heard of it myself, though I'll admit the lack of blood banks around here is appalling."
"You could always move back to wherever you came from," Mabel suggested. "Or just live on animals. I'd be disappointed, though, I think vampires are cool."
The man faked surprise. "Cool?" he repeated. "Most girls your age find my kind 'hot,' or some nonsense like that."
"Don't kid yourself. You're not that cute."
The vampire cleared his throat, apparently trying to remain intimidating. "I think I like this one," he said to himself as he returned to his search.
Dipper pulled Mabel aside. "Why are you bonding with him, Mabel?"
"Because he's hungry but he hasn't hurt me." She shrugged. "It's in their eyes. His are a really pretty browny-hazel, but they have a little bit of a red circle around the pupil, meaning, well, thirst. Clearly a diet of stolen donated blood, but reluctant to drink from live humans." Dipper didn't say anything, prompting a laugh. "What, it wasn't in the nerd books? I met a few vampires the last time we were here, remember? I know the signs to look out for."
"So you're making friends with this guy?"
"Of course," Mabel said, tucking the flashlight away in the pocket of her shorts, where it protruded rather blatantly. "It's better to have supernatural creatures as friends instead of enemies. Besides, I'm an excellent judge of character." She cringed as a flashback to her first encounter with Gideon Gleeful pushed itself through her mind. "You know what, keep garlic by the windows and doors. Just in case."
The door to the basement opened, then, and Ford's head poked out. He looked around, spotted their guest, and without further warning, invited him and the twins down for an interview.
Ford had figured out the vampire's identity weeks earlier, and had gotten him to promise to come and visit the Mystery Shack, strictly for Science's benefit. He'd agreed, and returned at the assigned time. He was digging through the merchandise because he was waiting for the old man.
"I've never had a chance to interview a vampire before, Dave," Ford said, and it took the twins a while to place the name to the face. Their accomplice was Dave, apparently. "I've only been able to observe from a distance."
"We're more intelligent than gnomes," Dave said casually, leaning back in the chair that he'd been given. "We keep to ourselves and try to blend in with humanity's nightlife, taking night shifts wherever we can."
"I got that part," Ford cut in, tapping Journal #2. "You weren't here three years ago. What brought you to Gravity Falls?"
"Safety measures," Dave replied at once. "I'm far from the first of my kind to travel here, just as you're far from the last of your kind who would come to investigate." He paused, considering something. "I'm sorry, was that racist?"
"I didn't think so," Ford promised. "How old are you?"
"Twenty-eight, more or less."
"How much more?" Mabel asked, taking her turn at asking the questions.
Dave pretended to think. "I honestly lost track after the first few weeks. Are we done?"
"Not even close." At least Ford was honest. "Do you mind if I attach probes to your head to study your brain?"
"Is that seriously how you study the supernatural? I'm appalled, Dr. Pines. Your degree should be revoked."
Mabel giggled. Dipper had to smile himself.
"The side-effects won't be permanent." Was that the great Stanford Pines, begging?
"I'm afraid my answer is still a no," Dave said, and slowly got to his feet. "I would be swirling my cape dramatically, but it seems I've left it at home."
"Are all vampires this sarcastic?" Dipper asked, stopping Dave before he could reach the knob.
"Only with humans," was the only answer they got.
Ford moved fast for an old man, and blocked the door before Dave could leave. "You sit right back in that chair, young man," he warned. "I'm going to need you to tell me and my niece and nephew about vampires, so we'll know how to defend ourselves against more like you."
This time, Dave actually listened. He slowly walked back to the chair, taking a seat.
"Vampires don't give out our secrets easily," he started. "Only newbloods - that is, former humans in their first six years as vampires - get the answers they seek. Those that claim to be Slayers learned our secrets long ago, or from fictional stories of those who did. Dracula? Real guy, though not quite as long-lived as the adaptations would have you believe. He wasn't the best role model for young vampires, but several looked up to him."
"I thought you said you were only twenty-eight."
"I am. But my ancestor was around at the time, and that kind of got passed down."
"Your ancestor?" Dipper asked, and Dave laughed.
"We all come from somewhere, kid, and just because we can't have children with humans...well, we form families anyway. Safety in numbers and everything." He paused again, thinking it over. "I wouldn't mind being a father, actually. Though not the diapers, I'd probably leave that part to the kid's mother."
"Focus, Dave," Mabel said shortly, and their vampire accomplice just gave her the most innocent look he could manage.
"Any more questions?"
Ford skipped right to the end, knowing it was probably best if they just let Dave go on with his life and found another good vampire. They didn't seem to be going anywhere, anyway. "Do you have an explanation for the lack of reflections?"
"Silver is magical. It hurts werewolves in their wolf form, traps ghosts, absorbs and multiplies spells. Why shouldn't it reveal us for what we are?" He nodded toward Mabel. "Like your friend's compact mirror, or your other great-uncle's little trick with the mirror up there for the tourists."
"I knew the part about silver, but I never expected that it was the metal itself and not a vampire quality." The old nerd broke out a new book, this one not marked with his trademark six-fingered hand, and wrote down that interesting fact. "Are there any methods of self-defense? How to tell if a vampire is planning to hurt you?"
Dipper grew slightly uncomfortable, but Mabel and Ford both leaned forward, eager for more knowledge on the vampire species. Dave didn't think anything was wrong with that.
"Keep garlic in your pocket, just in case. It smells repulsive to humans, how do you think it comes across to those who die if they ingest it?" Seeing the looks on their faces, clearly trying to decide if he was just throwing more sarcasm out there, he suddenly turned serious. "I mean it. Keep garlic in your pockets. It won't ward off someone hungry enough to attack, unless you can get it in their mouth, but it will make most think twice before messing with you for the sake of messing with you. Just a bit of advice from your friendly neighborhood blood-drinker."
Pleased with the results, which consisted of three humans attempting to figure out why he told them only things that they already knew, he actually made it out of the room this time, promising to see them again.
"Well," Mabel finally said, "we learned almost nothing."
"Except for his name and that he's born to be a politician," Dipper added.
"Do you think he's even allowed? Being a vampire and all?"
"That might explain why he's so against the mayor, actually..."
Ford wasn't listening to the younger pair of Pines twins. Dave had an ulterior motive, and he knew it. But what was it?
"You're going to start investigating vampires as a species, aren't you?"
It was nearing two in the morning, but neither twin could sleep. Instead, they had been in the living room for hours, the television on but neither watching it. Mabel was stitching what appeared to be two men's neckties together, and Dipper was pretending to read a book.
"I wasn't thinking about it."
Mabel clicked her tongue. "Dipper, Dave might not kill people, but he's not helpful, either. What did he say that makes you think he wants you to get involved?"
Dipper closed the book and stared at the ceiling, thinking it over. It was entirely possible that Dave had given them the garlic advice in order to prevent himself from attacking the humans he clearly tolerated, or liked in Mabel's case. He'd apparently been living here for at least a full year, and nobody had turned up dead. Surviving on stolen donations and forest animals might be enough for him, but if vampires formed families, why was the species so rare? Did they attack each other for resources, or was there an internal civil war, or something?
That settled it. Dipper was going to investigate vampires this summer, and with his crush on Wendy long gone, he was positive that there was nothing that could distract him. And who knows? Maybe Ford would end up letting him write a journal...