Gravity Falls is the intellectual property of Alex Hirsch and Disney, neither of which I am affiliated with. I make no claim to the characters in this story, and this is purely for entertainment purposes. I make no monetary benefit from any projects featuring these character.

Rated for violence, some frightening scenes, very slight thematic elements. Small amounts of Wendip pairing.

Gravity Falls: Anomaly Rising

"Two clips of stun ammo left. All but one titanium-coated net broken. Three leaks and less than an eighth of fuel in the Stan O'War II." Stan never looked away from the surface of the water. "This was a good plan."

"I still don't get why you say those things when they're obviously not the case." Ford reloaded the gun.

"It's a humorous method of coping with fear in a dangerous situation. Did it a lot in Colombian prison. Doesn't translate well, if you're ever in one." Stan squinted. "Need to update my prescription."

"I can give you corrective laser eye-"

"Nope."

"It's a simple-"

"Then do it to yourself."

Ford gave him a long look, gun in hand as they stood at the side of the boat, bobbing slightly with the current. "How exactly would that work?"

"Mabel would figure out a way. Maybe mirrors or something." Ford shrugged, lined face taking on that particular expression when either of them mentioned the twins. Something tight and amused and very, very lonely. "I miss 'em too."

"Summer's coming. Maybe we can head back to Gravity Falls for their break. I know Dipper would love to see some of the specimens we've collected." The boat rocked and Ford grimaced, wavering with it. "Another kraken in as many days. This is getting very suspicious."

"The calamari ain't bad." Stan pointed. "There it is. Saw the tentacles."

"Right. It's a younger one, so I think it must have come through a portal recently. Of course they're faster as well…" he trailed off, adjusting his glasses. "I need to study a sample of this one. It's moving strangely."

Stan watched the water for the surface breaking, a slippery appendage. Once, early in the year, a wily old beast had nearly hauled Ford under the water by winding around his leg. Stan had seen it just in time and grabbed it, chopping the leg away with a swing of a broken harpoon. His heart had palpitated for an hour after.

Now he was watchful, wary. But nothing stirred now in the gray fog, the dimly dark water. The smell of salt and deep ocean in the early morning made his lungs ease. It was full and cool, and the silence thicker than it should have been. Something splashed.

Stan grabbed his brother and lunged for the deck. At the same time the boat dipped on one side and bucked upward on the other as a great weight tried to turn it. "Hot Belgian waffles!" Ford's curse was more colorful, but thirty years away from children would do that. "Shoot it Sixer!"

"Let me get a shot lined up!" Stan held his brother steady as the boat surged up and down, thick green tentacles pooled across the deck and sliding around to grip equipment and pull the ship down. "Hope it's got the same feelings toward stunners as the others!" A blue jet of light shot from the end and hit the thickest part of the tentacles. They jolted and a high screech mixed with the churning of the water as the creature convulsed, unable to release its hold. Ford barreled to the kraken and dragged the net out. "Pull it on board! We'll have the advantage if it's out of its element!" Stan didn't bother with the net, hauling at the tentacles as the slimy creature twitched.

The kraken shrieked again, and with one fumbling tentacle grabbed Ford's arm, wrenching him toward it. Stan snarled, rushing to his brother as the latter methodically tried to pry the constructing muscles away. "Stan, if it goes under-"

He was yanked off his feet, over the side, and Stan just caught his coat, Ford firing the gun again. The kraken writhed but didn't release its hold, and Ford gasped in pain as it pulled harder, dragging him and the side of the boat toward the water.

Stan snapped. That was the only way to described the kind of madness that made a man strap a pig to his back and punch a pterodactyl in the face, or beat up zombies with a bat, or let a dream demon into one's mind to take it down. He seized the tentacle holding Ford and closed his fingers into fists.

Something firm squished and the wail was high enough to make his hearing aids short out. But with the ferocity of a bear he pulled the kraken away – leaving half the tentacle wrapped around his brother's arm – and with the throw of a man lifting a small bag of garbage, threw the entire kraken away from the boat, against rocks jutting from the water ten yards out. The slimy creature struck and its legs curled into tight coils. It didn't move again, limp body sliding into the water. There was no movement.

Stan and Ford stared at the place where it had gone down. "Stan. Did you just tear off a kraken's leg and throw said Kraken into rocks hard enough to kill it on impact?"

"Yes. I believe that's what just occurred." Ford slowly unwrapped the tentacle from his arm, testing its weight.

"An estimated five hundred pound kraken. Minus…twenty, for this piece." He glanced at his brother. "That's not possible Stan."

"We're Pines Ford." Stan examined his hands and found them trembling. "Possible is a very flexible thing with us.

Chapter 1

The Best Worst First Day Of Summer

"Pink yarn. Pink. No, that's magenta. Pink is the lighter one. Little lighter, that's rose – I'm looking for a carnation pink."

Dipper looked up. "Pigs can't see that much detail in color. And if Waddles eats another ball of yarn, I am not helping you when it starts coming out the other end again."

"He learned his lesson." Mabel lay on her stomach, hands stretched out toward the pig. He nosed several balls of yarn in her pile, arranged from dark pigmentation to light. "I believe in you Waddles. You need to know your colors if we're going to have a successful fashion blog."

"Don't lie to the pig Mabel. You just don't want to have to pick one ball over another." Dipper turned the page of the magazine resting in his lap. Mabel's eyes grew wide, slightly frantic.

"They all need to be loved. But even I have a favorite shade of pink. Waddles makes it a little fairer." She clapped her hands. "Come on baby, bring me one." Waddles pricked his ears and selected one, carrying it over and setting it in her lap. "Indigo. Huh. Can I make that work?" She squinted at her needles. "With bright orange…it's bold. But no one ever created something amazing playing it safe!" She accepted the ball and Waddles wagged his curl tail. "Thanks Waddles." She continued knitting and Dipper turned the page again.

He sat beside his bed, leaning against it with textbooks beside him, abandoned in favor of the latest issue of Ghost Harrassers. The show had taken off, and the articles contained further history and information on the haunts the team examined. It was a good way to find out what kinds of places tended to have ghosts, and the category levels. Mabel lay on her belly a few inches from his sock clad feet, elbows on the ground, knitting while humming to herself. And Waddles, of course, curled up beside Mabel and started to snore.

Dipper understood why their parents had given them separate rooms – puberty, growing up, independence, blar-de-blah – but they spent so much time in each others' rooms that it was moot. Mixed in with his books and movies and comics on science fiction and monsters, all currently concealed behind school-related books, were shoujo mangas with sparkly-eyed girls and girly-looking boys. Yarn could be found tucked in every cranny. The occasional glitter explosion from an unexpected place was now expected. And in Mabel's room amidst the stuffed animals he knew there were at least sixteen of his mystery novels and two Babba CDs. Though he didn't exactly mind if someone thought those were hers.

"Are you already done with your homework?" Mabel asked suddenly. Her long hair spilled around her shoulders and across the floor, making him hesitant to move his feet for fear of pulling on it.

"No, just taking a break. I can churn out a report like that," Dipper said, snapping his fingers and then trying again when the first one was too quiet. "Why, are you?"

"Nope. I was hoping to get your opinion on my thesis." She sat up and grabbed her backpack, lying nearby and sparkling with bedazzled sequins and shiny stickers. She took a slightly crumpled paper out of her bag and handed it to him. Dipper scanned this before his face became pained.

"Look Mabel, I know we're hoping Grunkle Stan and Ford want us to visit Gravity Falls. After everything that happened, I don't think anyone could blame us. But writing about what we want to do this summer and presenting it in your class? That seems like a bad idea. They already think we're wackos." He handed it back and added lowly, "Just like our parents." He listened intently for their mother's step, ready to hurl his magazine under his bed.

"Eh, the teachers just think I'm eccentric and don't want to write, 'And then I plan to watch the next episode of 'The Duchess Approves'' or something. They'll give points as long as I don't mix up their, there, and they're. Though I might need some help on syntax."

Dipper's brows rose. "So Mrs. Barington will give you points for, 'I hope to find at least six hunky guys of various humanoid species so I can be the subject of a reverse-harem plot that is still appropriate for all ages,'?"

"She doesn't have to spend ninety-nine cents on the paperbacks at the pharmacy." Mabel shrugged. "I jazz up the romance sometimes. I added thirty-two kisses to my story about Mermando. And I left out your one."

"Thank you for that." Dipper frowned. "How is his arranged marriage working out?"

"Not so great. Apparently manatees sleep half the day and she refuses to brush after eating algae. And their people's economic and social classes are just too different. They're talking annulment right now." She shrugged. "Don't get me wrong, he's dreamy, but I'm a little young to be dating a divorcée."

"The half-fish part might turn Mom and Dad off to the relationship too. And sea witches apparently get cranky when you assume they like to trade voices for legs. Grunkle Ford told me about a couple cases…"

Dipper sighed. "I'm so ready for summer. Think Grunkles Stan and Ford will come back to spend time with us? Maybe if they ask Mom and Dad to let us visit-"

"Of course! I'm sure they'll have tons of amazing stories about the creatures they've seen, battled, and possibly ingested." Mabel sprinted from the room and returned with her arms stuffed with letters. "Last time I got an update was more than a month ago. They were in the Bermuda Triangle last I heard. But they planned on coming back for a while after they check out a couple things."

"Hope they call. Grunkle Ford still hasn't quite learned to trust e-mail, and Grunkle Stan can't make a social media account without getting pinged by the FBI." Dipper closed his magazine, watching the letters fall like confetti as Mabel threw them upwards. Waddles nibbled on one envelope. "I can't wait to explore again."

"Middle school certainly isn't nearly as entertaining as I was hoping." Mabel gathered the letters and Dipper helped tug what was left of the envelope out of Waddles's mouth. "I'm surprised Mom and Dad haven't given us the safety talk like last year." She drew herself up and pitched her voice low. "Kids, any strangers talk to you, you tell your great uncle. I think he still keeps brass knuckles around the house."

Dipper grinned. "And don't forget sunscreen every time you go to the lake. And look out for the hillbilly – Mabel honey, are you sure you don't want mace?" His imitation of their mother was nearly perfect, though it was harder to get his voice that high than it used to be. "I just hope they really will let us go to-"

A knock against the doorframe made them look up. Their father stood outside, peeking inside. "Hey double trouble. Having fun?"

"We're at about a forty-five percent fun capacity right now." Mabel ran to him and hugged him around the waist. "You wanna bump it up to fifty-five with a piggy back ride?"

"Only if no actual pigs end up on my back." His short beard was longer – he hadn't had time to shave hat morning – and his hair was mussed. Dipper knew Patrick Pines was a hard worker at the paper factory but there was something funny about having a literal paper pusher as a father. He always came home smelling of pages and pages, as if books were his cologne. Mabel clambered up onto his back and Dipper stood, surreptitiously sliding his magazine under the bed with his foot. "Your mom's got dinner ready. And we need to talk to you both about this summer, so let's get some chow."

"Woohoo! Food and summer! Food and summer!" Waddles hurried after Mabel's hollering and Dipper perked up – their parents had probably already made arrangements for them to stay in Gravity Falls. He had to show Ford the journal he was working on; it wasn't nearly so impressive as Ford's but it was a start, particularly considering he'd been stuck in Piedmont for about eight months. The oddest thing here was listening to the girls in his science class gush about the young blond teacher's aide with the constant stubble. Seriously, who wrote fan fiction of themselves with a real person? Freaky.

Mom was just pulling chicken strips from the oven. Her curly brown hair was frizzy, the source of his unruly locks and Mabel's dimples. She set the pan out and waved her oven mitts over it. "Hi honey. We've got exciting news kids, your dad and I just had some ideas for this summer!"

"Summer! Oh my gosh, we're so excited to go back to Gravity Falls!" Mabel leaped clear of their father and into the nearest chair, hair flying wild. "I'm gonna hang out with Candy and Grenda for sixty-five hours straight! And I bet Dipper will want to hang out with Wendy." She giggled and Dipper coughed, face hot. "All year and he's still sweet on her. So when are we going? Can we fly this year instead of a bus? Not that I don't love the bus, the gossip scribbled on the wall is so juicy."

Mom and Dad had smiles on their faces that made Dipper's heart sink. Fixed, mechanical, a little uncomfortable. "Actually, sweetie, we've had some ideas for trips this summer. Just our family." Mom slipped a folded pamphlet out of her jean pocket and put it on the table. "Look, the word's biggest quilt! And Happy-Safe-Park-Land! We've got the route planned out starting next week." She beamed sincerely now.

Mabel and Dipper exchanged glances. "Oh. That sounds super nice," Mabel said. She sounded pleased. "So family vacation, and then we'll go to Gravity Falls. This'll be the best summer yet!"

Mom and Dad exchanged glances of their own. Mom opened her mouth and then closed it, nodding at Dad. He examined his hands before clearing his throat. "Kids, do you remember why we sent you two to Gravity Falls last year?"

"Because we spent too much time inside and we needed to spend time outdoors," Dipper said. He remembered the game that had been taken from him – he'd been on the next to last level, and upon his return to normalcy he hadn't ever picked it back up. Mabel nodded, Waddles coming up under the table and snuffling for bits of food.

"That's right. And you did get fresh air and exercise, and got to see a lovely historic town." Dad put his palms up defensively. "But your mother and I were thinking that it might be nice if you spend your summer in other places. Like California, with us."

Even Mabel couldn't mistake what he was saying. Dipper felt his temper bubble but forced it down. These were their parents, their loving, non-supernatural believing parents. He'd hoped this wouldn't happen. "But I was going to work with Grunkle Ford on some research projects. And our friends…"

"And I wanted to see how the Mystery Shack had changed," Mabel added. "Soos has done a great job keeping it up."

"Yes we know…but…Matilda, help me out here." Patrick looked at his wife pleadingly.

She sighed. "Kids, we're not really comfortable with the stories you've been telling us. Stanford is actually Stanley, and the real Stanford was on some kind of long trip-"

"Interdimensional jumping," Mabel said helpfully. "It only took thirty years to get him back because Grunkle Stan didn't have the blueprints for the machine to open up a hole in the fabric of space and time."

The pained look on their mother's face made it hard to swallow. Dipper pushed his plate away. "You still don't believe us and think that going back there will make us even crazier. Or bigger liars."

The hesitation in her response was like a fist to the stomach. She only did that when she didn't know how to reply, which meant he was right. "You've always had active imaginations. But the insistence on all of this being real…we've being talking to some friends down the street about how to understand what you've been saying."

"The child psychiatrists and behavior specialists." Dipper voice was flat. "I know the stuff is insane. But a couple hundred years ago, bacteria and viruses were insane too. If you just saw some of the stuff you'd believe. Gravity Falls has a huge weirdness factor; it attracts more anomalies than any other place in the U.S. If you'd talk to Ford I know he'd help you understand!"

"Okay hon. Just…enough. This discussion is over. Apparently taking a break from all the supernatural themed things hasn't been enough. There will be no Gravity Falls this year." Mom put up a hand and that was the end. Dinner passed in silence, Mabel gnawing on her chicken tenders morosely. Dipper didn't eat another bite, stomach churning in dismay. .

As the table was cleared Dipper handed down his dinner to Waddles, who had no discernment of whether his meals were vegetarian or otherwise. They avoided pork obviously, but anything else was fair game. The pig pushed his head up under Dipper's hand, expected pats, and Dipper managed to smile.

The twins returned to the hall that had their rooms and Mabel gestured for Dipper to follow her. He did so and Mabel shut her door. "How can they do this to us?" she whispered. "They know how much we miss our grunkles and everyone!"

"I don't know Mabel. They're worried about us. They think we're liars or crazy. Just like everyone else." Dipper seated himself on the pink carpet, reaching into the nearby mass of rabbit, kitty, and puppy plushies to withdraw a mystery novel. His desire to do homework was shot.

Mabel hurled herself onto her bed, helping Waddles up the side when he oinked. "Waddles, why are grownups like this?" She prodded the pig's belly gently, tickling. Waddles cocked his head. "Sorry…Professor Hamington, can you explain to me why our parents are acting this way?"

She pitched her voice high and squeal-y. "Well Mabel, your parents probably don't have any way of reconciling the things you're telling them to the reality they encounter in their day to day life! Humans often operate under paradigms that are least damaging to their worldview in order to maintain stability." Dipper stared at her and she glanced at him, shrugging. "Hey, he's got the PhD. Not me."

Dipper finally lay down on the floor, gazing at the ceiling. "Well. My interest in summer is officially gone."

"Maybe it'll be fun. With Mom and Dad. And if we act super normal maybe they'll let us go to Gravity Falls part way through." Dipper folded his arms. "What?"

"Yeah, 'act' normal. Pretend not to know what we do." His bangs fell into his eye and he pushed them back, birthmark under his palm. "It's been less than a year since we fought Bill. How are we supposed to be normal Mabel?"

Her head peeped over the side of her bed down at him and she sympathetically stroked the messiest part of his hair. "Pat pat. It'll be okay Dipper. Well find a way to see Wendy and Soos and all the others. I wouldn't be surprised if our grunkles came to get us at some point because they need our help with some incredible new problem that only we can assist with due to unforeseen occurrences."

Dipper smiled and patted her hand. "You're a goof. Pat pat."

"And you're a nerd." She grinned at him. "If I know Grunkle Stan, he and Grunkle Ford, they'll find a way to get us out there somehow. But we should text Wendy and let her know what's happening. She'd be the quickest to respond, and I know you text her, like, every minute."

"I do not. Just…every day." Dipper ignored the heat in his face and took out his phone. It was a flip phone, and he had to hit each button multiple times for a certain letter. Mabel shook her head but Dipper like his cheap phone. If it got destroyed when he was searching or investigating, it wouldn't be any great loss. He had a notebook and was saving up for a hardy laptop, so a cheap phone was safest. "Done."

Mabel swung her feet in the air, still looking down at him from her puffy pink comforter with a naughty grin. "Y'know, you've grown about five inches since last summer. And almost-fourteen and sixteen doesn't sound as weird as almost-thirteen and fifteen."

Dipper thought of the hat in his room, placed with reverence beside the letter from his last day in Gravity Falls. Piedmont's spring had been too hot to allow it, but all through winter he'd worn Wendy's hat, disappointed when the scent of pine trees and her shampoo had faded from it completely. Certainly the year had come with minor crushes and minute heartbreak, but Dipper figured there was a part of him that would never forget the dizzying rush of Wendy beside him, laughing so hard they both snorted. "I'm not bringing it up Mabel. I mean, yeah, Wendy's awesome. But I want to be her friend. If I can keep that friendship, that's worth it."

Mabel's mirth softened to fondness. "Aw. That's actually really cute."

"Ugh, cute? Great. I just don't want to be the 'nice guy' that's always bugging her to like me when she doesn't. If she changes her mind someday…well…maybe there's a chance." He let his phone drop onto his chest. "Feelings are stupid."

"They can be." Mabel put out her lower lip. "Can you help me with my paper? Now that I'm sad my brain's all, 'Don't want to do homework-y.'"

Dipper rolled his eyes but smiled. "Yeah…I should get started on mine too." She hauled out her textbook and Dipper sat up, watching as she put out her doodled, messy pages in a line. "It's all about organization. If you know the way they want you to lay information out, getting a good grade is cake."

"So who's ready for Happy-Safe-Park-Land tomorrow? I know I am." Mom pushed another set of pants into her travel case. "Oof. Patrick, little help?"

He gave it a hard shove and she managed to zip it. "There you are. And I sure am ready. How about you kids?"

Mabel sat with Waddles, not quite in Sweater Town but with the collar up around nose, so it was getting close. Dipper had already packed and his packs rested in his room, so he was scribbling in his journal. "Yay. Roller coasters that go under ten miles an hour and roasted vegetable kabob snacks." Mabel managed a smile and Dipper managed a cheer that Mabel thought sounded lackluster as Soos as a Father's Day parade without Grunkle Stan. "Couldn't we call our Grunkles and see if they can meet us?"

"Oh heavens no, it's way too far out of the way! And besides, they're probably not back from their boating trip." Mom hefted her pack and put it in the middle of the living room. "Everybody got their things together?"

The fake cheeriness was the worst part. Dipper kept shooting concerned glances at her and Mabel knew he saw the encroaching sweater neck. Their parents, if they sensed their children's unhappiness, were pretending not to. She tried to think about how happy Grunkle Stan had been when they went fishing with him after the hunt for the Gobblewonker. It was the same thing except with their parents. And their parents thought they were crazy.

"Yep, all packed. I'll get my bag," Dipper said, climbing off the sofa. His red t-shirt was rumpled and his cargo shorts – longer than what he'd worn last year, and with pockets stuffed with first aid, notepads, pens, and emergency snacks – needed a good wash. Grass stains had worked into the knees, and some of the buttons had already been replaced with her own concoctions of clips.

"No prob kiddo, I'll grab it." Dad left the room and Dipper stood still, looking to Waddles suddenly.

"We're bringing Waddles?"

"Oh. Um…well, we've made arrangements with the veterinarian. It's not standard, but we've set up for Waddles to be boarded. We'll take him tomorrow!"

Mabel shot up. "What!? Mom, Waddles has never been boarded, ever! I thought we were taking him with us!"

Dipper cast he a warning look, putting up his palms and making a "calm down" motion with them. But Mabel couldn't quite bite her tongue. "Can't we take him to-"

"If I hear 'Gravity Falls' one more time, I'm going to lose my temper." Mom's eyes narrowed, her mouth tightening. "We've been more than patient with you two. Waddles will have a lovely time at the vet."

"I'm sure he'll be fine. Maybe he'll make some friends," Dipper said quietly. Mabel swallowed, nodding. "I think it just surprised her Mom."

Mom sighed, putting a hand to her head. "Yeah…I should have said something before. It's just a week honey."

"Yeah…that's okay. Sorry." Waddles was quite sociable, she thought, aware that he would have no idea why she was leaving him. Or what if something awful happened, and somebody thought he was actually livestock? No, that was paranoid. Waddles would be just fine.

Dad returned and his jaw was set. "Mason Pines, what is this?" Mabel's eyes shot to her brother, who had a carefully deadpan expression. In Dad's hands was a stack of magazines, books, and one of his brother's journals. "Son, we've talked about this."

"Dad, it's just a hobby. Stories and stuff." Dipper's nose, usually a little pink anyway, had darkened with embarrassment. Dad opened the journal on top. "Wait a minute, where did you find those? I had them tucked away!"

"'Ready for summer, hope to see a real leprecorn this time. I know Mabel said that unicorns are prissy and rude, but I'd like to examine their hair to see what makes them so protectively powerful. Grunkle Ford isn't sure why the journals reappeared after Bill's defeat, but the information in them about all the creatures and occurrences is vital. I'm really glad they still exist.'" Dad closed it. "Son. Your mother and I are very worried, and because of that we forbade all this…this…spooky stuff!" His face colored. "And you've hidden it all this time!"

"Because whenever we talk to you about this stuff you get angry and shut down! You don't bother listening to us! I'm not trying to disrespect you, but if you'd just listen-!" Dipper retorted. Mabel jumped – her cell phone was ringing.

"Girl, why you actin' so cray-cray? Sayin' you won't be-"

She lifted it to her ear, aware everyone was looking at her. "This is Mabel, talk if you're able."

"Heya Pumpkin. How's things?"

In spite of the argument, in spite of everything, Mabel squealed with delight. "Grunkle Stan! Hi! It's so good to hear your voice! Is Grunkle Ford there?"

"You bet he is. I'll put you speaker…Soos, how do I…oh, okay. This one – nope, that's – ah, there. Thanks. Say hello Mabel."

"Hi Grunkle Ford! Soos! Oh my gosh this is awesome! I thought after Gompers ate the landline you'd never be able to call. Are you back in town? And you got a cellphone? I'll add you to my contacts!" She did so with a few flicks of her fingers. After a moment she became aware of everyone in the room looking at her. "Um…my family's here. You want me to put you on speaker too?"

"Oh, your parents? Perfect! We need to talk to them." She switched to speaker mode and held out the phone. "Can you all hear me!? Hey Dipper, you there kid!?"

Dipper smiled faintly. "Yeah Grunkle Stan. You don't have to yell, speaker's more sensitive than that."

"Oh. Sorry. Technology, right? Patrick, Matilda, how are you?"

"We're all right Uncle Stan. How are you?" Dad said. He had his arms folded sternly.

"All right, all things considered. Ford, say hey."

"Hello Patrick, Matilda. Dipper, Mabel, are you both all right? No signs of any anomalies?"

Dipper and Mabel winced. "No, not in Piedmont."

"Good, that's good. We've seen plenty where we're traveling but something new has come up. I assume you've discussed last summer's occurrences with your parents?" Dipper said nothing and Mabel rubbed her arm uncomfortably. "Am I coming in clearly."

"Uncle Ford, Stan," Mom said, "I think we should have a talk without the children."

"Why? I was wondering why I hadn't gotten any calls from you two asking about some of the stuff they'd tell you. I mean, gnomes and portals?" Stan laughed. "But of course they told you, right? They didn't keep it from you."

Mom and Dad looked at each other in a way Mabel couldn't read. "They've been saying things like that yes." Dad took the phone from Mabel. "I don't want to talk in front of them about this sort of thing. We obviously need to have a talk about what you all have been telling them."

"I'm sorry, but the children must be included. You see, the latest anomaly may in fact be affecting them. It's affected Stan and myself, and for their safety they need to be informed." Grunkle Ford's crisp, bold voice had a visibly soothing effect on Dipper, who stared at the cellphone in admiration. "It might be best if they returned to Gravity Falls with both you you. The anomaly may be easier to explain in a location that produces the effect more easily."

"No. No more Gravity Falls, no more of this nonsense!" Mom's voice was sharper than glass and Waddles cowered behind Mable's leggings. "Kids, go to your rooms. We and your uncles are going to have a serious talk."

"Mom, no! You don't understand but Grunkle Ford will explain it! Please, just give him a chance!" Dipper didn't look away as she turned on him, eyes blazing.

"Mason Pines. Mabel Pines. Your rooms. This minute." Mabel stared at her phone – those were her Grunkles on the phone. But finally she grabbed Dipper's hand and clucked her tongue for Waddles to follow, and hauled them back to her room. Dipper halted and ran into his room, dragged his pack into her room, and slammed the door behind them. Then he placed his face against the travel case and screamed a muffled scream.

Mabel sat down and folded her arms around her legs. Dipper moved to sit beside her in the same position, face pink with anger. He suddenly pulled the neck of his shirt up and around his head. "I've never seen you go to T-Shirt Town," she mumbled.

"Well, I need to go somewhere. I'm not going on a trip with them, and I don't want to be here right now. So T-Shirt Town is happening!" Mabel retracted into her sweater and sighed. "I know they're scared that we're crazy. I get it. But that's no excuse not to talk to us, or our Grunkles, or try to find out the truth. Are they so close minded that they can't believe there might be something more out there!?"

Mabel leaned on her brother's shoulder. "I wish we hadn't told them anything," she whispered finally. "Maybe if Ford had explained it all at the beginning they'd understand. Dipper, I'm scared. What if Mom and Dad start to think we're really crazy and want to put us in a hospital somewhere? Would they split us up?"

"No. That's not happening." Dipper yanked his shirt down – she heard the rasp of his hair against his collar – and started pacing. "I saw my room. Dad must have seen the magazine I was reading and just pulled everything out. Things shouldn't be like this!" He kicked his pack, if the thump of a shoe against a clothing-stuffed bag meant anything.

Mabel poked her head out. "It's…gonna be okay. It has to be." She froze. "Dipper?"

He looked up at her, irritably. "What?"

"Your…birthmark. It's glowing." He stopped and reached up to push his bangs back. The cool light was brighter as his hair was shoved aside. "Whoa. Is T-Shirt Town next to Glowy Town?" She stood up, Waddles close to her side, and prodded his forehead. "Boop."

The floor under them disappeared and they immediately fell, Waddles flailing and squealing as all around them appeared a blue, cosmic expanse. Stars gleamed and sparkled around them, gravity lost as they fell softly into that strange place. Dipper yelped and Mabel grabbed his arm and Waddle's front right hoof. "What's happening!? Mabel, how did we-!?"

"I don't know, but I really wish Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford were here!" Fear and wonder rushed through her as the stars reflected in Waddles's little eyes, and Mabel clutched both closer.

Whiteness rushed up under them and Dipper wrapped his arms tightly around her, as if planning to make her land on top of him if they crashed to the ground. Waddles let out one more shrieking squeal before they hit that blinding whiteness –

And landed in a big, burly pair of arms. "And another thing," she heard an indignant voice say, "I don't like you insinuating my Pumpkin is anything but an angel! Dipper's a good kid too, and they wouldn't lie! And you aren't listening to anyone-!"

"Hey dudes. My position was fortuitous indeed." The familiar, simple voice was better than a marathon of High School Fantasy movies – Mabel looked up into Soos's friendly face, faint stubble and a roundness that meant comfort, warmth, and chocolate bars, and squealed. It was he who had caught the lot of them, and she threw her arms around his neck.

"Soos! I'm so glad to see you! Thanks for the catch!" He laughed, hugging them with a little spin. Even Dipper hurled his arms around their friend, laughing in disbelief. Waddles grunted happily, finding a little crumb of corn chip on Soos's shirt.

"What the heck? How are you two-?" The voice trailed off and Mabel launched herself from Soos's shoulder straight into the stunned arms of Grunkle Stan. He was wearing a black raincoat, dripping onto the floor of the living room of the Mystery Shack, and black slacks with rubber boots, and the red toboggan on his head was soaked. But in a moment the wrinkled old face broke into a wide, beaming smile. "Eh, who cares? Good to see you Pumpkin."

Ford stood behind him, shock wearing off as he raised a hand to his chin in thought. He wore similar clothing to Grunkle Stan, expect his rain coat was yellow and his hair was more neatly combed under his black hat. "Fascinating. Truly fascinating." Mabel followed his glance upward to see the starry expanse closing up, as if the portal that had dropped them there had never been.

At the same time, Dipper's birthmark stopped glowing. After a moment, Dipper cleared his throat. "Mom, Dad? You're going to have to believe us about the supernatural now."