A/N: Hey, I'm actually writing again! How weird is that!

I want to thank ChaosInventor and WyvvernTooth for helping me with story ideas in their own unique ways. I can honestly say that this never would have been published without their support and willingness to have me dump plot ideas upon them for opinions. I hope you all enjoy this, as I actually enjoyed writing it.

I also want to say that, even though this isn't the best work out there and the ideas don't exacly stick out from the rest, I really put everything I had into this story. Maybe it isn't all polished and award-winning yet, but it isn't from lack of effort. If you have constructive criticism, please let me hear it, since I want to get better. Please do keep in mind, though, that not everything in a story makes complete sense right away, so you may have a couple questions as we move along. That's okay. I can promise that I'll explain everything in time.

So, what I'm trying to say is... Please help me out and review since I want to get better and I'm complete trash at writing. But please don't flame the story for kicks, or pick on me because I'm not on J.K. Rowling's level yet.

Well... Now that the intro is complete, please give the story a look. Thank you.

The room was dark and damp, with only a small lamp lighting the entire place. A slow look around showed a row of cells, mold-covered and wet. The prisoner cowered in the back corner of the room shivered as a drop of water hit his skin from the ceiling. Long locks of hair, not cut in such a long time it seemed, brushed against his limbs as he started to move. Goosebumps crept up his clammy skin, hair standing on edge with some deep-rooted fear that the prisoner couldn't place.

For the life of him, the shivering man had no idea where he was. Damp clothes clung to his skin, chilling him even further, but he didn't feel as if it would bring his death any closer. It was clear that he had been here a long time, since his hair was far longer than he remembered. However, he was certain he hadn't seen that place before. At the same, though, it also felt oddly familiar. A name was carved into the stone ceiling above him, which he could just make out.

Suddenly, the fear increased inside the poor prisoner, before he could properly read the name. It seemed that some part of the man had picked up on something that his ears hadn't. Just a few moments after the dread settled within the lone prisoner's gut, a set of footsteps echoed down the stone hall. The sound bounced up and down against the walls of the silent prison, making it impossible for the cowering prisoner to tell where the sound was coming from. All he could tell was that it seemed to be coming closer and closer to his cell with an almost joyful pace. Soon a shadow cast itself along the wall, flickering like the torch.

The prisoner had no chance to glance up and identify the shadow before the heavy iron door of his cell creaked open.

"Oh, it seems you are awake. Why don't we get started again, hm?"

The bus was eerily quiet, due to lack of passengers. In the last seat, an overweight old woman loomed in her seat. The grumpy scowl on her face traveled up the entire bus, skulking over the town seats and smudged windows. The unsettling aura even reached the only two other passengers in the vehicle, one of which was sitting silently in the front seat. The other child, a girl unlike her brother, was not so silent, and was not effected in the least by the upset woman's horrible mood.

Now, the two twelve-year-olds in the front seat were really something special, even if they did not look like it at first. On the left, leaning against the window and flipping through an old book, was a small boy with expressive brown eyes.. He wasn't the most fancy-dressed person in the world, with old shorts and a t-shirt clearly dug out of the laundry. His hair, though washed that morning, was in a tangled mess of brown curls upon his head that drooped almost messily onto his forehead as well. Although he tried to hide it, the kid looked apprehensive and worried about what was to come. That worry wasn't exactly wrong, either.

The girl next to him, however, was not so gloomy. In fact, she was a complete ray of sunshine that sparkled without hindrance. Even though she was sitting still, the entire aura around the grinning brunette made you feel like she was bouncing up and own excitedly. As she sat, the girl gazed around with her wide eyes, the deep brown seeming to absorb everything in sight. An aimless tune spun around her head as she hummed, occasionally disturbing the boy slouched next to her.

"Hey, Dipper," the girl chirped, cutting into the silence like a knife through butter, "what do you think Grunkle Stan will be like?"

The boy, wrenched out of his thoughts bu his sister's words, offered a frown. "I don't know, Mabel. We've never met him, right? I'm sure he'll be okay. Dad wouldn't have sent us here if he thought that Grunkle Stan was a danger to us. But he never mentioned what he was like, so I have no idea."

The girl, apparently called Mabel, settled back into her seat with a sigh. The ripped seat cover dug into her back through her shirt, and it was acutely painful. However, she didn't dare complain. "I just want to know what he's like. I think he'll be really nice, and great at cooking! Maybe I could get him to teach me how to make Pink Sparkle Cake!" An excited giggle escaped the girl's lips, causing her to hug herself in excitement. The large sleeves of her sweater covered the lower half of her face as she hunched forward, tucking her knees under her arms smoothly.

Dipper turned to face his sister, skepticism and pure judgement settling upon his face. "I don't think so, Mabel," he said flatly, leaving no room for arguments. "He's supposed to be an old guy, so sparkly pink creations are probably not his idea of 'fun'." The boy scoffed, looking away again.

"Yeah, yeah, okay. Maybe it's not. But I bet there are a lot of girls there who will want to bake with me! You could come along, too! It'll be fun!"

"I'll pass," Dipper muttered sullenly, staring out the window with a steadfast gaze. "Hey, Mabel? Why do you think all the fairies left Ireland all those years ago?"

"Huh? Ireland? What's so important about that, Dip-Dop? Is this about that new book you got?With all the grizzly dragons and gargoyles!" The girl wiggled her arms for an added effect. Much to the boy's annoyance, her painstakingly-manicured hands waved cheerfully right in front of his face, occasionally grazing his nose.

"They aren't 'grizzly dragons', Mabel," Dipper scolded. As he spoke, his hand reached up to gently guide hers down and away from his face. "They're fire-breathing dragons that were heavily based out of England and other Western countries for some time. That book is actually a really useful resource! It has all sorts of information about creatures from all different cultures, and even how they could apply to the 'natural world'. If you look at the science shown inside it, it's possible that these sorts of creatures could actually exist! They only thing that it doesn't explain, though is where all these creatures went. there are tales about Irish fairies going 'underground' into the hillside, or just a large hill. But the wording is really fluid and up to interpretation. In fact, the Fae-folk may not be underground at a-"

"Okay, okay, Dipper!" Mabel cut into Dipper's excited rant with a disinterested laugh. "I know all you want to do is focus on your nerdy stuff. Maybe we'll have more stuff to do together here, you know? Especially since mom made you leave all your nerd-books at home." The grinning brunette reached over to her brother, cheerfully poking at his cheek. He didn't find it nearly as amusing as the girl did, however.

"They aren't nerd books, Mabel," the boy protested. His cheeks puffed out into a childish pout, seeming even more immature with the way he crossed his arms like a spoiled toddler. "They're actually quite fascinating! You just have to read them closely, that's all!" Every few words of his speech were accompanied by an attempt to swat the incoming finger away from him. However, it was al to no avail. Finally, the poor boy had taken enough of the unwanted invasion of his personal bubble.

"Would you stop it, Mabel?!" The boy practically hissed the demand, brown eyes flashing like lighting on a stormy night. "I just want to be left alone, do you always have to be so annoying?"

The angry words cut the boy's sister like a knife. The hurt shone brightly on her face, with her eyes flying wide open and the color fading from her cheeks. The strain of travelling and the other events that had transpired in the pas few days had worn on the young girl, and she was certainly not ready for such an outburst from her own brother. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, brought on by shock, confusion and stress.

"I- I'm sorry, Dipper," the girl whispered, looking down. "I didn't mean to be so annoying."

With that, the girl settled back into her seat. The ripped seat cover dug even harder into her back, but she refused to point it out or complain in any way. The optimism she held around her like a cloak was slipping down, revealing the insecure center in the middle of her shell. Instead of the bright, shining optimism of before, a strained and unhappy cloud hung around the usually vibrant girl. Even as it did so, the girl knew that it was likely an overreaction to the situation. However, she couldn't really bring herself to fight the unhappiness, just this one time.

"Oh, come on Mabel," Dipper said pleadingly. His hand went out to rest reassuringly on her arm, but the touch came out as pleading as he felt. "I didn't mean it that way. I was just annoyed, alright? You know I can be a bit of an idiot sometimes." At that he offered an uncertain smile that lit up his face and shone in his eyes.

"Okay, Dipper," Mabel said with a giggle. A small smile slipped onto her lips. After a moment, however, it grew into a great big grin. "I forgive you. Just... Try to be nicer to me in the future, okay?"

"Okay. I'll try to be nicer. Awkward sibling hug?"

"Awkward sibling hug," Mabel agreed, reached over to her brother.

The two met in the middle for a hug where neither was quite sure how affectionate to be, which was often the case for the aforementioned awkward sibling hug. Even while sitting inside a moving vehicle with no seat-belts whatsoever and only being pinned by their own luggage, the two young kids managed to keep the perfect amount of distance between each other while ill maintaining a matter how you looked at it, that was an impressive skill.

After a moment of hugging, the two patted each other on the back in a friendly manner "Pat, pat pat," they said in unison. Each iteration of the word was in perfect sync with the action, which was also a practiced skill. The hug did not last any longer after the trio of pats, and the two quickly separated to sit of their sides of the seats. For a few precious moments, treasured for both the silent bus drier and the grumpy old woman, the entire bus was silent. All there was to hear was the crunching of ties against the road and the low hum of the engine that quickly filed itself away into a collection of background noise. Of course, that wouldn't last very long.

"Hey, Mabel?"

"Yeah, Dipper?"

"What do you think Grunkle Stan is like?"