Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls!
Title: A Little Vandalism Goes a Long Way
Summary: (Teen!Delinquent AU) Dipper and Mabel run away from home. It's not their fault they can't get along with the other kids.
...
When two hall monitors come into his gym class to escort Dipper to the office, he goes with the smirk of someone who's won, when really that couldn't be farther from the truth. He stays smug all through the hallways, like it was his idea to stroll around in his ugly uniform shorts and t-shirt, and he shows no sign of guilt as they seat him in one of the receptionist chairs. He taps a leg covered in hair, an old scar peeking out under his left knee. If he's embarrassed by his lack of dress- which he is, mildly- he doesn't show it.
All pretense of this fades, along with his grin, when his sister steps into the office.
Dipper's going to be blunt with you all here, and he's well aware that this will come across as conceited; the others don't scare him. He can take out any of his classmates; disarm any forty-something who doesn't have any real training; and the principal... he's nice. But his job requires a lot of sitting and writing out paperwork. He's got Manotaur hunting skills and boxing training from Stan and don't even get him started on Ford- to back him up.
To sum it all up, if there is ever a day Dipper is snuck up on and stabbed in the back, he fully expects to see his sister on the other end of the blade when he turns. Not that any stabbing will happen, but you see his point.
Granted, in a white blouse covered in animal stickers and a pair of hot pink shorts, he can understand the ignorance of others. But there's a dark fire in her eyes, framed by her bobbed hair and nose piercing. The very edge of one of her tattoos poked out under her shirt- the burn Stan carried, as it was the longer one of the two, and the only blue one- but otherwise she looked like the everyday teenager.
...Well, perhaps a bit more than average. Tall, broad-shouldered, strong, brave; maybe it was just him being a good brother, but he couldn't see a reason not to fall head over heels for his sister. Maybe that was just because he had a type. Still.
Mabel is deceptively calm as she listens to the receptionist ramble. Dipper counts the splotches of paint on her shirt and cheeks before she finally turns to him.
He can't help himself; "It wasn't me, I swear."
"Dipper." She hisses, hands balled in front of her. "That was my art class you interrupted, man. Art! It's the one class I'm good at, and the one I love most!"
"I'm not kidding, lady Mabes. Haven't done a thing."
She examines his face to judge his honesty, slowly shaking her head. "Well, I didn't do it."
"I know." Dipper replies grimly. "You're a way better artist than that quack. And you wouldn't have signed it with our names."
"You're darn right." She says, calming down. The logic of the situations slowly sinks in; that they would never try anything this stupid, not to mention Dipper is a terrible artist. "So, uh... what're the chances of this getting us expelled?"
"With our record? Pretty dang high."
"To their credit, they at least knew it wasn't yours." Dipper says, between sips of a milkshake.
You ever see one of those places that is the definition of 80s' greasy spoon? Jukebox, checkered tile, cheesy red plush cushions, and milkshakes with every burger? That's it. That's where they are. Of course, the owner is out of touch with life, as is to be expected; in his defense, he's an anti-social ice monster with a speech impediment, but not a lot of people know that.
"Of course they did." She returned primly. "My art style is unique. Like no other. Pass the sugar."
He does so, ignoring the screech of glass as the milkshake travels across the table on foot. Er, bottom. Glass. You get it. "They fought for us and everything. I half expected them to yank out your sketchbook."
"Would've gotten us in more trouble if they saw my other illegal babies and recognized them." She took a surly swig. "Besides, didn't stop us from getting expelled."
Dipper tugs on his hat awkwardly. "This is true."
"That was our third school, Dip. Our third strike."
"Also true."
"They're at the end of their ropes, Dip."
"You're not wrong."
Her voice became increasingly shrill. "They're splitting us up, Dip!"
His fingers clenched around the corners of the table. He found he couldn't look at her. "I know."
Maybe they're overthinking this. Dipper trusts his sister. He knows she won't do anything too crazy- by which he means demon related-, and he knows she extends the same trust to him. But, after the last time...
Let's just say Pines twins have a bad habit of falling apart on their own, and leave it at that.
Mabel presses her head into her hand, frowning thoughtfully. "Have you ever wanted to say something super cliche?"
"That depends on the day and the cliche." Dipper muses, idly tapping his fingers on the surface of the table. "Which cliche are we talking about, exactly?"
"We're not happy here." She says bluntly. "So, we should leave."
"Ah. Running away from home." Dipper won't deny that the idea is appealing.
"Gravity Falls isn't that far from here. Only a state away."
"And how do we get there? We'd have to leave the car."
"We have legs, and great uncle Ford gave us survival training."
As did Manly Dan. And Wendy. And life.
"In all seriousness, though. What would our parents say?"
Mabel shrugs, stirring their shake with the straw. She watches the liquid slosh. "Let's be honest with ourselves; they're expecting it by now."
Dipper doesn't deny it. Instead, encouraged by those words, he helps feed into the idea. "We can't stay at the Shack, but we can always find a shed or something somewhere."
"Who needs a diploma, anyway?" His sister agrees, finally passing back the drink. "Stan gets along just fine without it."
"Well, I wouldn't go that far." He answers hastily. That was a different generation, after all. "We can take some online classes."
Loud, boisterous laughter cuts them off. Dipper leans farther across the table; Mabel seconds the notion. He forgets this place is public, sometimes.
"Can you see what he's saying?" Mabel asks, because he knows how to read lips. He also knows sign language, although not well enough to use it on the day-to-day.
"He's bragging." He answers immediately.
"That was fast." Her eyes narrow. The fire has turned into a blaze. "You didn't even look at him."
Dipper shrugs. "I glanced around a bit earlier."
"And what's he bragging about, exactly, Dip-Dop?"
The clench to her jaw tells him she's already hazarded a guess. "He seems to find out situation amusing. I don't know if he actually set us up, though. He's pretty open about it. Bad idea if you don't wanna get caught."
The clench in her jaw twitches. "You're facing their table. How many guys?"
"Three." Child's play.
Mabel slides out of her booth, fists tightened into balls. "I'll be right back."
Dipper fiddles with the straw nonchalantly. "Take your time. It's a long walk to Gravity Falls."
Author's Note: Not only is this the first Teen!Delinquent 'fic I've written since the end of Gravity Falls, it's also my first multi-chapter! Only a two-parter, but still. It's good to be back.
As far as the canon goes for the finale, well... all of it fits. Literally, all of it. My vagueness in the beginnings of this AU have worked to my advantage! =)
-Mandaree1