Quick preface, since this is slightly AU: This story is based loosely off a friend's dream about the clones that went missing in Double Dipper. This version of the clones are a bit more durable than in canon; water is actually painful and dissolves them by degrees instead of going all at once. Be warned, the T rating is for violence and it'll earn it. Pre-NWHS.

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The two boys made unlikely prisoners. Disheveled, skinny twelve year olds with thin, underdeveloped arms and legs, faces still soft and round with childish chub. They wore an assortment of dirty summer clothing—Trace in a t-shirt with a pine tree on it, Ford in long sleeves, both in cargo shorts, both with tousled brown hair, worry on identical faces. They could've been twins.

They were taken to a cement block of a room and pushed roughly into two metal folding chairs. The men in suits who had brought them grabbed their arms and pulled them back, cuffing them in place. Ford's shirt had a rip in it. Trace had lost a shoe; icy chill from the damp cement floor crept up through his sock and made him shiver.

There was a card table in front of them, with two chairs opposite. A bare bulb swung overhead, illuminating the tiny cell with its four moisture-streaked cinder block walls. Trace caught a glimpse of ominous metal rings embedded in the back wall at chest height.

The two boys looked at each other, shivering. Each knew what the other was thinking. This looked like the setup of one of those old war movies. We're gonna get interrogated.

As the men in suits marched out and shut the thick iron door with a clang, Ford and Trace made the zipping motion and tossed away the key. Whatever these guys wanted, they weren't going to get it.

They put their hands flat on the table and waited. No one came. Fluorescents flickered sickly yellow-green. Water trickled down one wall. The ventilation system rumbled in the distance, a constant note of bass against the grating silence.

"Stay strong," Trace murmured out of the side of his mouth. "They're messing with us." Ford nodded.

When the door finally swung open both of them started. They sat up ramrod straight in their seats, ready for the hard-eyed secret agent who would surely come in and try to threaten answers out of them. Someone else entirely stepped through the door.

She was gorgeous. That was the first thing that really sank into She had the kind of brilliant gold hair that could only come out of a bottle, coiled in a sleek bun at the nape of her long, shapely neck. Thin, delicately pink lips curved into an inviting smile. Trace's brain. The bare concrete room paled to an even bleaker grey in comparison to her. Her eyes were honey brown and framed by dark, long lashes. And her, uh, her curves, were… they were…

Mesmerizing flickered into his mind. Like a cobra, sinuous and soft, and that white lab coat wasn't nearly as good at disguising them as you might think, tailored expertly at the waist and shoulders. A low-cut tank top and some silky thin substance that might generously be called pants completed the look.

The woman rested the pointed tips of her manicured hands on the rusted table and smiled at them. Her honey eyes sharpened into something glittery and dangerous. "You boys have quite a secret. How about sharing it, hmmm?"

They looked at each other and gulped.

Then she leaned back in her seat and clapped her hands. "Oh, but where are my manners! How are these things done now? Could I offer you boys a cup of coffee? A glass of water?" Trace saw Ford flinch out of the corner of his eye. His eyes narrowed; these people knew about the ink. What was she playing at?

The lady didn't seem to notice his look, smile still curved into glossy pink perfection. She waved her long fingers at the man by the door. "A pitcher and two glasses, please, darling."

"We're good," Ford said. He was nervous, but he did a good job of keeping it out of his voice. "We won't be here long, anyway."

She chuckled. "Aren't you a confident one? I like that." The door shut behind the guard; she made no move to call him back. Instead she pushed back her chair with a scrape of metal on concrete and crossed those long, silky black legs. "I'll be honest boys, how long you stay is entirely up to you. Be upfront with me, and back you go to Gravity Falls, no harm done."

Trace licked his lips, which felt dry already. "Otherwise?"

The woman tilted her head and tapped her chin, looking thoughtful. Then she shrugged. "Oh, I have time to kill."

The guard returned with a plastic pitcher of water and two tin cups, arranged incongruously on a decorative silver plate. The woman jumped up and whisked it out of his hands, twirling and depositing it in the middle of the table with such flourish that the water sloshed over the edge of the pitcher and splashed toward the boys.

They both leaned back in their seats. Liquid dripped from the edge of the table in little splatters. The boys winced.

"Oh, look at that mess," the lady said, hand fluttering up to her chest. The teasing smile on her lips didn't match the dismay in her voice. "How clumsy of me."

Trace and Ford exchanged wide-eyed glances. "We don't have anything to say to you," Ford said, going for brave.

"Nothing?" She leaned forward, her shirt dipping to expose curving white breasts.

Trace raised his chin. He ignored the rivulet of spilled water that crawled toward his feet. "Nothing."

The woman sighed and straightened, pushing the chair in with an ear-splitting screech. "Well, that is too bad." She slinked around the table, running her hand through the spilled water, and rubbed her fingers together. "For you, anyway." Leaning forward, she ran a finger down Trace's cheek.

It burned. Tears sprang to his eyes. Trace blinked rapidly and bit the inside of his cheek; he wasn't going to cry. Her face looked even more beautiful up close. She stared at him, eyes wide, smooth pink lips parted slightly, a light flush in her pale cheeks. The look… hungered. It made him shudder.

"Leave him alone!" Ford snapped.

"Oh, I will," she crooned, almost a whisper. The look dissolved into a coy smile; she stood up. "I'll let you think this through. Mull over your options. Make a plan. You like that sort of thing." The woman walked back over to the table and picked up a glass of water; she took a long, luxurious sip. "Toodles."

The door slammed shut behind her. Trace sat still, shivering in pain, and looked at his brother.

"What are we going to do?" Ford asked.

"Stay strong," he said, but he slumped in his chair as he stared at the water. "We don't give them anything."

"We're family?"

"Yeah."

The lights clicked off, leaving them in the dark, with nothing but a steady drip-drip-drip of water off the table to keep them company. Dipper would've figured this out somehow. Or Mabel would've rescued him, or Grunkle Stan, or Wendy. Nobody would come looking for them. Not ever. Neither of them said it. They weren't even supposed to be in the first place. But they were.

Trace heard Ford's handcuffs rattle and him shuffling on his chair. Scooting himself closer, he strained until the metal cut into his wrists, but there was no way for their hands to meet. Instead, he reached out with his leg and bumped it against Ford's. Their skin touching made a tiny spot of warmth in the cold, damp darkness.

They said it softly, together. "Family."

"So I guess we've decided," he said one night at the campfire in the cave. They had run out of BABBA tapes and discovered that marshmallows tasted like paper pulp, no matter how good they smelled.

Four looked up from tracing a decoder into the dirt. "I guess so, bro."

The multi-bear had gone off to do whatever multi-bears do during the night, leaving them alone together. The fire was a little dangerous considering they couldn't put it out with water, but it felt nice. They both knew what they were thinking—they had the same mind—but Three felt like it ought to be said out loud, once and for all.

"We're staying. Keeping our existence going for as long as we can." He pulled off the dingy white and blue hat from his head and stared at it. It had a 3 scrawled above the brim in sharpie—Four's had a 4, of course.

Once, they'd been clones of Dipper Pines. Nothing more. Just components in a scheme to get that date with Wendy. Since then they'd seen so much of the forest—made their own discoveries, met new friends, even fought off a monster or two. They'd lived and learned totally outside the "real" Dipper. Without even realizing it, they'd become their own selves, for real.

"Wow," he murmured. Intense stuff, discovering your own personhood.

Four swiped out the cipher and stood up, tossing his stick in the fire. "So I guess that means names."

Three brightened. "Oh yeah! Any ideas?"

Four trudged over to Three's log seat and sat down next to him with a sigh. He looked at his open hands. "I still feel like I'm Dipper."

"I know what you mean, bro." He put his arm around the other copy. "But we aren't Dipper anymore, right? And Tyrone… kiinda taken. So." They scratched their chins and eyed each other. Both of them grinned.

"Trace," Four said, pointing at Three.

"Ford," Three responded, pointing at Four. They shook on it.

Together they threw their hats on the fire, where they kindled with a sizzle and the reek of hot toner. They watched together, till the hats burned right down to ash.

"It's going to be hard to stay safe from the rain without hats," Ford spoke up.

"It's the symbolism of the thing. Clean break, new life."

"Right, right, I'm just saying… let's invest in an umbrella next chance we get."

"Great idea, Ford."

Ford chuckled. "Thanks, Trace."

Trace grinned; it felt good to hear that name. His own name.

tbc...

A/N:

Hello! Welcome to... well technically it's not my first Gravity Falls fic, but it's the first long one that I've posted on FFn. I wrote it earlier this year as a birthday gift for Anneriawings, who happens to like angst and have creepy, inspiring dreams. I blame her for everything. :P Figured it was about time to repost it here. The fic's complete, so it should be out with relative regularity.

In case you were curious, Ford isn't named after Stanford, it's actually a play on the number four. :)

Thanks to Cordria, Phantomrose96, and Sophie-who-keeps-changing-her-username-geez-child for their input and beta skillz!

-Hj