Dipper's favorite part about autumn was the silence. He could picture his backyard by closing his eyes. The trees' barren branches, save for the small birds that peppered them like rustling black leaves; the dried and dead glass crunching under his feet as he walked; and the smell of something earthy and calming that you just couldn't place or describe properly. He never viewed it as the world dying, just the world going to sleep.
Because this, this was the world truly dying, or already long dead.
When Dipper opened his eyes in front of the remains of the Mystery Shack, he almost expected to see the sky still red, almost expected to hear screaming and fires burning in the distance. That image had been burned into his mind so thoroughly that it still lingered whenever he closed his eyes. But the sky was blue, the fires were out and only smoke could be seen in the distance. And it was quiet. Not the calming quiet of autumn, but of decay and death, and if it had been a month ago it would have brought on a panic attack, but he's too tired, too numbed by everything that had happened and everything that still wasn't taken care of yet.
"Hey, snap out of it, kid," he heard Grunkle Stan say behind him gently. A hand was put on his shoulder and he didn't flinch. "I found it, so let's go."
"Yeah," Dipper mumbled, almost sounding as if he were in a trance. "Yeah, let's go."
He and Stan walked away from the rubble of the Mystery Shack, not looking behind them, and left.
When they got back to Ford's bunker, they found Mabel sitting down picking grass by the entrance, bundled up in a sweater they'd found in one of the shops in the next town. With the Mystery Shack gone, not many of their personal items had made it. Dipper would suggest making new ones, but he knew Mabel's heart wouldn't be in it. He had actually just gotten several of the same shirt and shorts, since he'd never gotten excited about shopping the way Mabel did. Mabel's mood had been slightly elevated when she was shopping, but now it seemed like she was back to where she started when they first rescued her. It was hard for her to look anyone in the eye now.
At the sound of the doors closing, Mabel looked up and directly down again when Dipper caught her gaze. He made a pained face in response, but didn't react to it otherwise. Stan looked at both of them worriedly.
"Is my good for nothing brother downstairs still?" Stan asked bitterly.
"Yeah…" Mabel responded.
Stan's shoulders squared, fist almost crushing what they had searched almost half of the day for, and began walking towards the entrance. Before he descended however, he knelt down and kissed Mabel on the top of her head. "After we're through here, we'll go find a place that's still serving pancakes, okay sweetie?"
Mabel managed a small smile at that, and responded, "That sounds nice."
Reluctant to say anything that might upset Mabel, Dipper simply followed Stan down the winding steps. It was more lit up now thanks to Ford fixing up the place. When they had first gotten here, it was almost like he expected it to look how it did when he last saw it. The dust and smell of mildew threw him off enough that he had spent almost a week cleaning and doing minor repairs on everything that desperately needed it, and another preparing the holding chamber in lieu of Dipper telling him of their encounter with the shapeshifter. Now, that seemed like a century ago.
"Hey, Ford!" Stan yelled once they got to the sealed door that blocked the bunker off from the rest of the world. He began pounding on the metal roughly. "Open up, you old geezer!"
The intercom crackled next to the door, before Ford's voice came through it. "Stanley, use the intercom! I'm doing delicate work in here, and that banging isn't helping."
Stan rolled his eyes. "I could care less about your nerd work right now. Dipper and I found it, so let us in."
A moment of silence, and then the clicking of several locks and seals being undone could be heard. The door opened, and Stan shoved past his brother, pushing the metal piece of technology into his hands in the process. Ford glared at Stan's retreating back, but said nothing. Dipper gave Ford a sheepish smile as he passed him and followed his uncle.
"What is that thing supposed to do, anyway?" Stan asked with his arms crossed, looking around the room so he wouldn't have to look at his brother.
Ford seemed to perk up a little, and started to walk forward. "This is something of my own making that I used for the very holding cells that are down here." He paused to knock on the glass of one of the cylinder-shaped holding tanks. "Although, this is a newer prototype that will work much better on our current prisoner. After I make a few more tweaks, I'll be able to use it to not only put creatures in stasis, but to use magic runes that enable the prisoner to talk, but render them immobile."
"Less wordy version, please."
It was now Ford's turn to roll his eyes. "They'll be able to talk, but not move. Something that these tanks previously couldn't do." He turned to Dipper. "Dipper, would you like to help me install it when I've finished perfecting it?"
Dipper was ready to respond enthusiastically, when Stan interrupted, coming over to stand in front of Dipper. "Oh heck no, you are not dragging him or Mabel into any more of this. I told you to stay away from them."
"Grunkle Stan—" he tried to protest, which earned him a glare over his shoulder. Dipper's jaw snapped shut with an audible click.
"We're leaving to get pancakes, so just get it done," Stan almost snarled. He put his hands on Dipper's shoulders and began to lead him out.
Dipper looked behind him, Stan, and Ford to the holding cell behind them as they left. In it was a kid about the same age as he and Mabel strapped to the chair with any chain they could find in this place. He was unconscious and held almost completely solid by the faulty stasis chamber, bangs covering the rest of his face. But Dipper knew he could hear them, knew he was taking in every conversation being held in this room. Ford and Stan would deny it, but Dipper knew one thing for certain after everything he knew had changed:
He would never underestimate Bill Cypher again.