This takes place right when we last see Pacifica in Northwest Mansion Mystery/Noir. This has nothing to do with my other fic, Ninjago Falls. I own no characters used here. Inspiration for this from various other fanfics and fanarts. Enjoy.

"But seriously, I'd better go and find someone to clean this up," I say to Dipper as I look at the mess we made. My parents will be furious if they find out that we trashed their favorite carpet pattern, but for once, I wasn't thinking about my parents when I was doing something.

I walk away from Dipper to search for one of the hundreds of butlers or maids in the mansion. Before I can make it too far, I feel a rough hand grab my arm while another clamps over my mouth. The person drags me down a narrow hallway and into a small, scarely furnished room. They close the door and whip me around to face them.

It's my father.

He raises his hand and slaps me. I don't give him the satisfaction of seeing me rub it in pain.

"You little brat!" he yells. "Our reputation is ruined thanks to you! Our collegues have seen us mix with the rift-raft! We raised you to be the perfect, obedient child, and you threw seven years of training down the drain in one night! What were you thinking?!"

"I was thinking that I don't want to resort to cannabalism!" I respond. "I was thinking that if I didn't pull that lever all of us and your stupid collegues would have gone up in flames! You were just thinking about yourself!" I pause and take a breath. "I found the paintings, the real ones, of our ancestors. The hidden room behind the skeleton king painting." Dad opens his mouth. "Don't try to deny it! A painting of you and Mom was there too."

Dad fumes for a minute before punching the wall. "Go to your room! NOW!"

I gladly leave the small room. But I don't go to my bedroom. I venture towards what I've dubbed the Room of Truth, the room I was talking to Dad about. Once there, I scoop up the dropped flashlight and turn it on.

I force myself to look at every painting. From robbery to murder to animal abuse, I learn of every horrid thing the Northwests have ever done. Every painting seems to be worse than the one before it. It's not long before I'm wiping tears from my eyes.

By the time I near the end of the centuries of bad deeds, the sounds of the party begin deminishing. I decide I should probably head back to my room, in case one of my parents decides to further yell at me. I shut off the flashlight and tip-toe out of the Room of Truth, going as quietly as I could to my room.

My mother is waiting outside the door.

I sigh. "What, are you gonna yell at me too?" I ask her.

"Of course!" she snaps. "You endangered the Northwest name! Imagine if the common folk had stolen something, or broken something! What if-?"

"Did you notice Dad didn't mention you? When he was trying to get me in the panic room and not pull the lever?"

"Wha- yes he did!"

I shook my head. "He said, 'There's enough mini sandwhiches to last you, me, and a butler...' Has Dad been controlling you too? Or are you just stupid?"

"Pacifica Elise Northwest! How dare you speak to your mother that way? You've never even acted out before!"

"That's because I was scared before." I shove past her and open the door to my room. "I'm not scared now. And I'm no longer your puppet." I slam the door.

I flop onto my bed and scream into the pillow. Standing up to my parents actually felt, good. Like a weight's been lifted off my shoulders. Screaming also helped.

I look at the clock on my dresser and see it's nearly two in the morning. I groan as the events of the day catch up with me and my eyes start to drop. I change into pajamas and wipe my makeup off. It's not long before the blissful nothingness of sleep embraced me.

{Line Break}

After I change and shower the next morning, I find the door leading out of my bedroom locked. I decide I could have a worse punishment, but then my stomach growls. I bang my head lightly on the door.

To distract myself from hunger, I organize my closet by color. And then my shoes by designer. Then my bookshelf by genre. Before I can move to my desk, my parents come in.

"Have you learned your lesson yet, Pacifica?" Dad asks.

"What lesson exactly? That doing good results in punishment around here?"

Dad slapped me again. Mom flinced, but did nothing to stop him. She only turned and walked away. I turn back to my furious father.

"That boy was a bad influence on you."

"He wasn't, actually. That was you. I'm pretty sure most parents don't make their kids dye their hair, or control them with a dumb bell. So yeah, I 'rebelled' last night. But I also learned the truth."

"And what would that 'truth' be?"

I thought back to what Dipper said and looked Dad straight in the eye. "That just because I'm your daughter, I don't have to be like you."

Dad threw his hands in the air. "This is what I'm talking about. That boy has you spouting nonsense!"

I stomp my foot. "His name is Dipper! You could have at least tried to remember that! He saved our lives!"

"He may have initially caught the ghost, but who let it back in?"

"It was an accident! He never would have done something like that on purpose."

"How do you know?"

"Because he's a good person. Sure, he said some, hurtful things, but he apologized. I don't hear you apologizing for using that damned bell on me half my life!"

"This bell?" He pulled the bell out of his jacket and began ringing it.

'No,' I thought. 'I defied it last night, I can do it again.' The image of wooden Dipper solidified in my mind. I reached up and yanked the bell out of Dad's hands and threw it out the window.

"I'm not your puppet anymore!"

Dad looked ready to strangle me. Instead, he stormed out, ordering a butler to bring me breakfast. It wasn't a very extravagant meal, just a few blueberry pancakes, but I was starving and wolfed them down. I heard the door lock when the butler left with the plate and sighed. What did my parents possibly think I would do?

I decide to write until my parents return. First is a double-sided note to Dipper. In it, I thank him for his help last night, and for giving me the courage to stand up to my parents. Then, in a five paper long note to my parents, I express how I feel. I rant, I ask them to change, I state how I refuse to change, I ask what else our family has done, and rant some more.

I hurridly shove all the papers under a notebook on my desk when I hear footsteps approaching my room. I turn around just as the door opens and Mom enters. I tense up, knowing what she'll say.

"Where's your makeup? Why isn't your hair as light as normal?" She gasped. "Did you forget to dye it?"

"Mom, relax. I think I'll live if I don't look like I normally do. It's not like I'm going anywhere today, anyway. You've made that obvious."

"Who cares? A self-respecting lady always wears makeup! You're disrespecting every woman on the planet right now!"

An image of Mabel, who I've never seen wear makeup, flashes in my head. "Maybe you're the one disrespecting women. You've had so much plastic surgerey I doubt any of your real face is left. All your true beauty is hidden under lies! Has anyone even see your real face?"

This stuns Mom and leaves her standing with her mouth open, like an idiot, for a full minute. She slapped me when she recovered. I don't even care anymore. She storms off and orders a butler to bring me lunch.

The second the door locked I began writing again. I wrote another four pages to my parents, mostly Mom. This was followed by a short note to Mabel, thanking her for being who she is and being comfortable with that.

Shortly before sunset, something strange happened. The gravity seemed to have been shut off. It must have just been for 30 seconds, but that was 30 seconds to long for me. I ran to the door and found it was unlocked. I threw it open to find my parents getting up from the floor.

"What the hell was that?" Dad demanded.

"That is an excellent question," Mom responded, glaring at me.

"How would I know?" I defended. "Though, I think I may know someone who might."

"You're not going anywhere like that!" Mom yelled.

I remembered the lack of makeup and darker hair and rolled my eyes.

"Your mother's right, Pacifica," Dad said. "Now, back to your room."

"No."

"No?"

"No," I repeated. "I told you, I'm not your puppet anymore. You can't tell me what to do."

"We're still your parents, Pacifica," Dad said.

"Really? Then start acting like parents, good ones. Because as far as I'm concerned, you've always acted more like micro-managers than parents."

My father slapped me. "Listen to me. Your mother and I are the king and queen of this house. You're the princess, and princesses do what they're told."

"Are you sure about that? 'Cause I can think of some that didn't."

"Name one."

"Rapunzel, Merida, Ariel, Cinderella. Should I go on?"

"Pacifica, stop this nonsense before your father does irrational."

"Too late, my dear."

And with that, Dad grabbed the back of my shirt and tossed me into my room. Luckily, I landed on my bed. Sadly, I heard the locking of the door again.

"Now what?" I asked myself.

Then an idea struck me. I'd seen it enough in tv and movies to know it wouldn't work, for very long at least, but I had to try it.

I was gonna run away.

Hastily, I grabbed a backpack and stuffed some shirts and skirts in. There was still room, so I added in a notebook, pencils, colored pencils, and a sharpener. I also shoved $1,000 into my pocket, because I knew I'd need money.

I filled yet another sheet of paper for my parents, and left all ten on my desk, where they can easily be found. The notes to the twins were folded up and in my notebook.

Now all I have to do is wait for an oppurtunity to leave.

To pass time, I decided to think of what I'd say when I found the Mystery Shack. After the fifth time going over what I'd say, gravity shut off again. I grabbed the stack of papers for my parents before they could get lost in the other papers flying around my room. This time it lasted nearly two minutes. I crashed safely down on my bed, and luckily, nothing fell on me.

The door was somehow unlocked and I fled down the hallway and stairs. I ignored the calls of the butlers and maids, who were trying to get me to stop. By the time I had reached the entrance hall, my parents were also yelling at me to stop.

I rushed towards the gates. Halfway there, they began to close. I picked up the speed and just made it through as they clanged shut.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I headed down the long driveway of the Mansion. I had a pretty good view of the town, the entirety of which seemed to have been affected in one way or another by the gravity failure. Buildings and veichlies were upside-down and sideways, trees were uprooted, and people were walking around in a daze.

Deciding heading through town was a bad idea, I turned into the woods when I got to level land.

That was the worst idea I'd ever had.

Half an hour later, I was officially lost. I heard a loud roar and covered my ears, fearing a bear or something coming to eat me. After it passed, I reluctantly kept walking.

When the sun went down, I didn't really want to sleep. But, with nothing else to do other than get more lost, it was the best option I had.

{Line Break}

I wake up just after the sun rises to hair in my face. It takes me a minute to realize it's not mine.

"AHHHHHHH!"
"AHHHHHHH!"
I sat up and found what seemed to be a gnome sitting on the ground next to me. It whistled.

"Girl, you're beautiful." It held out it's hand. "I'm Jeff."

"Wha- what are you?"

"A gnome! What are you, an angel?"

Though I knew I was probably blushing, I stood up and dusted myself and my backpack off. "Uh, no. Um, do you live," I gestured to the trees surrounding us, "here?"

The gnome nodded. "Sure do. Thinkin' of movin' in?"

"Ew, no."

Suddenly, a rock flew by and hit Jeff's head.

"Oh, not them again. Until we meet again, m'lady." Jeff bowed and scurried off.

Two boys wearing raincoats came out from between trees. They looked identical to Dipper, other than their hats.

"Dipper?"

The duo looked at eachother and laughed.

"Not quite," the one with a 4 on his hat said. "We're his clones."

"And you really need to watch out for the gnomes," the one with the 3 on his hat added. "They've been looking for a queen since the begining of summer."

"I'll just pretend that's not wierd," I said to myself. "Uh, if you're Dipper's clones, you know where the Mystery Shack is, right?"

They nodded. "Need help there?" 3 asked.

I nodded.

"We'll help you," 4 promised, "if you don't tell anyone we're alive. As far as Dipper's concerned, all his clones are dead."

"Uh, you definitly don't have to worry about me telling anyone about this."

"Great! 4, you've got the map! Lead the way!"

4 grabbed a book out of his raincoat. It looked just like Dipper's, but when 4 opened it, I saw most of the pages were blank. He flipped to a very detailed map of the forest and brought out a compass before walking to the right.

After a few minutes, they asked for my name. When I answered and asked their names, they simply pointed to their hats.

"Dipper never gave us names," 3 said sadly.

"And we couldn't think of names for ourselves," 4 added.

"Oh."

"Enough about us," 3 said. "What are you doing in the woods?"

"Running away from my parents. Dipper and Mabel were the only ones who've actually helped me, so they seemed like the perfect people to run to." I let that sink in. "What about you two?"

"Just try to survive," 4 answered. "It's kinda hard considering we can't touch water. But the Manatours help a lot. They got us these raincoats."

"The gnomes are a pain in the ass, though," 3 added.

I stopped in my tracks. "Dipper never struck me as the type to swear."

"Oh, he's not. But after a week or so out here, 4 and I started developing our own personalities. I, for one, have developed a love for music. 4's sticking to writing. He's much better than Dipper and I."

Mentioned clone rolled his eyes. "We should be there soon," he reported.

I looked again at the detailed map in 4's book. "And which one of you is the artist that drew this?"

"4. I have Dipper's horrible drawing ability."

4 laughed. "It's not that bad."

"And who's the boss?"

"4. I'm way too childish to be the boss."

"Yeah. It's kinda wierd. I was copied after 3, but I act like the older brother. More level-headed, mature, just taller."

3 rolled his eyes. "2 millimeters doesn't count!"

"You're only saying that 'cause you're older. Do you have any siblings, Pacifica?"

"Not that I know of. I just found out my parents were hiding a lot from me, though, so who knows?"

"What kind of stuff did your parents hide from you?" 3 asked.

"Just my entire family history."

"We're here," 4 announced.

The three of us looked at the old building. It's hard to believe I'm here again. After all, I told myself I'd never come here againafter I asked for Dipper's help. That seemed like a lifetime ago. Now the crippled building is a welcoming sight. I turn to the clones.

"Tha- thank you."

"Our pleasure," 3 said. "You're the first full human interaction we've had other than Dipper and Robbie since we've been copied."

"And neither of them count," 4 added.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out 3 hunderd dollar bills. "This should be enough for an instrument for you, 3. And whatever's left over can be spent however you want. A tent might help if you can't get wet." I hand the bills to 4.

They stare at the bills in awe. "You just had this in your pocket?" they asked in unison.

"That's what happens when you're rich."

They both hug me and thank me a thousand times each. Then they turn around and dissapear between the trees.

I face the decrepit building and take a deep breath. I know there's absolutly no going back now. Taking another breath, I walk up to the front door and knock. After a few seconds, the door is opened to reveal the already-enerjetic, brace-filled smile of Mabel. Upon noticing it was me, her smile faltered, but was quickly restored.

"Hey, Pacifica!" she exclaimed. "What'cha doin' here?"

"I, I need your help again."

"I'm not dealing with another ghost," Dipper stated as he entered the room, book in hand.

I shook my head. "Not ghosts. Parents. I, uh, kinda ran away."

"What happened?" Mabel asked.

I explained what happened after I left Dipper at the party. Keeping my promise to the clones, I left them out of it. I instead said that a werewolf had helped me out. When I finished, Mabel enveloped me in a hug.

"You poor thing," she said, rubbing my back.

"How long has this been going on?" Dipper asked.

"Since I was 5. I guess that's the first time I had acted out. And last, until two nights ago."

An old man carrying a newspaper entered the room. "Kids?! Why is one of your friends here?"

"She ran away from home because her parents were abusing and controlling her!" Mabel exclaimed. "Can we keep her, Grunkle Stan? PLEASE?!"

I chuckled at Mabel's begging. I looked at Stan, who had lost his 'tough-guy' look.

"You wouldn't mind sharing a room with these two knuckleheads, would ya?" he asked. "Because that's the only spare room in the house."

I looked at the twins. Mabel was practically bursting with excitement and nodding her head. Dipper just held his book up, as though promising that I'd have a lot of fun.

"I'd love to sha- share a room."

Mabel exploded, yelling "YAY!", and throwing her arms in the air. Then she started talking way too fast for a human brain to comprehend, though Dipper seemed to, as he kept nodding. She ended off with "Come on!" and dragged me to the staircase.

Dipper laughed. "Welcome to your new life," he said.