A/N: not counting this note, the story reaches 5,791 words. Dang. Officially my longest one-shot.
So, I watched Gravity Falls recently and LOVED it. I could go on, but my AO3 note explains pretty well.
Anyways, this is post-series, specifically second-summer. It's a type of mind meld fic - if you've read the Cipher Twins series on AO3, that explains the concept really well, though my take is very different. I may make a second part if you guys like it.
Sorry it's really rushed half-way through; I haven't been feeling well overall, and then Voltron Season 5 came out and I wrote Purple fire, plus personal things, etcetera etcetera.
hope y'all enjoy! And apologies about the poem formating.
DISCLAIMER: Alex Hirsch owns Gravity Falls, not me.
I saw reflected in moonlight,
Betwixt frame of heart to mind-
a silver string of some kind.
From here to there I saw its pull,
Light glinting off, far from dull;
From there to here, back again
I saw it lead to my best friend.
And curious as it was to spy,
I saw you, peaceful
with my eyes.
Quirked a smile, truth be told
that slipped to wonder, as, behold-
I saw suspended in the air
dust motes floating silver there-
like the dreams of me, of you-
naught but what is shared between us two.
So I rested back into bed deep
Smiled, closed my ey e s. . .
And followed you to sleep.
- "Dream strings", by Subtle Shenanigans
Mirror strings
Returning to Gravity Falls wasn't spectacular.
It was right.
Because this was home.
It wasn't some unusual, fantastical first time event. They knew these woods like their own backyard - better, even.
They knew these folks even more so than their neighbors and even classmates.
And, dare they say. . .
This is where their family was.
Dipper and Mabel Pines where practically oozing excitement.
The moment of riding up to The Mystery Shack was almost too much, and from the looks both Ford and Stan kept sending back towards them, it was showing.
Both older Pines had picked them up from the bus station, the two gremlins actually launching themselves at Stan, who had flailed his arms in pinwheels to keep from toppling over. (When had they gotten so big?) They then proceeded to tackle Ford, his brother cackling loudly in the background.
"Stanley, help me up!"
"HAHAHAHAHA, GETTIM, KIDS!"
"STANLEY-!"
It took Ford a moment to get the kids off of him with half-hearted protests and vague threats to his brother, who made no move to help him, even having the gall to pull out his camera. The twins grinning gleefully all the while.
From there they quickly got into the Stan Mobile, the two kids chatting like starlings as they passed through town and familiar faces, and as buildings gave way to encroaching conifers and birches. They talked of nothing and everything; the things that had changed (not much except Stan's casual dressing and beanie, and Mabel's looser sweater design, today a soft lilac with a smattering of stars that seemed to hang on strings in the sky), and that which didn't (Dipper's outfit, though he claimed to have packed more variety, like plaid flannels instead of a vest; and Ford's usual maroon sweater, even if it was a thinner, looser fitting one for summer like the one Mabel wore - which had been a gift from said girl.)
The town petered out and trees grew in, but they paid almost no mind, growing more comfortable as home approached.
The Mystery Shack was the same as ever.
The sign still lay against the building like a wayward cat, resting smugly, and Wendy's break spot was visible from their approaching angle; gullible tourists were lead around by the only difference, being-
himself, Soos Ramirez.
Upon seeing the Diablo, his showman voice could be heard loud and clear, stating, "That's right folks! But it seems that we must close up early - head to the shop for any last minute purchases! There's a beautiful, honest-to-goodness angel who will ring you up! Just be careful of the red-haired harpy sweeping the back!"
"I heard that, Soos!"
Soos' expression turned through emotions like a kaleidoscope, most notably in varying shapes of fear, but eventually settled back into a practiced grin as he urged the buffoons inside.
Once the door closed and the sound of chatting tourists subsided, he hurried to follow the car's lazy crawl around the back.
"Dudes!" He cried, hugging the twins as they hopped out, both gleefully yelling, "Soos!"
"It is so good to see ya dudes," he started, eyes glistening. "I mean, I know we've video called and stuff, but it's just, not the same, ya know?"
Mabel looked up at him, wide brown eyes agreeing with every word, and Dipper's own smile expressing just as much.
"It is so, so, so good to see you!" Mabel exclaimed, while Dipper chimed in with, "Long time no see!"
Soos didn't get a chance to respond as Mabel slugged him in the shoulder. He rubbed the surely bruised arm, sniffing, "Dude, what was that for?"
She grinned as though she'd done no wrong. "And you're getting married! I can't believe you guys! I'm so excited!"
Dipper grabbed Soos' hand and shook it, "Congrats, man."
"Although," the female Pines narrowed her eyes, "I thought you guys wanted a late Spring wedding. Why wait until June?"
He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Aw, dawgs. Thanks, I mean it. And," he looked away, face flushed, "I couldn't get married without my two hambones there. Melody and I talked it over and decided to wait until you guys showed up. It wouldn't be the same without the whole family there. Plus," he looked back towards them, smiling, "it doesn't hurt to date a little longer, ya know?"
They nodded, sniffling.
Soos nearly jumped when a hand clapped his shoulder. "Haha! A real gentleman right here! Congrats on landing yerself a girl, kid!"
He quickly latched himself onto Stan, who, after a moment's hesitation, returned the hug. "Ah, thank you Mr. Pines! And thanks for agreeing to be Best Man!"
Stan rolled his eyes affectionately. "Yeesh kid, calm down. I couldn't say no to a free suit." He lowered his voice to a mutter, "and I wouldn't miss your wedding, neither."
"Well," Ford cut in, clapping his hands. "Let's bring our stuff in and get situated. Thank you, Jesus, for allowing us to stay for the summer."
"Aw Dr. Pines; just call me Soos," he said, latching on to the other brother. "And no problem; 'S like I said. We're all family."
Melody had done a good job dealing with the customers, while the Pines and Soos came in through the back. The attic was all set up (well, left the same) for the twins to use again, while Ford and Stan set their bags in the living room, planning to stay in the basement. A month back when they had called Soos to plan arrangements, he had gone ahead and bought extra mattresses, and cleaned up down there to make it a little more livable.
Neither Stan not Ford would say it, but both were touched.
Abuelita gave them a passing, 'Hello', then went back to watching her program (she now lived in what was once Stan's room, though she still spent most of her days on the couch, if she wasn't cleaning or chatting with Melody).
Eventually Melody came in, leaning gently against Soos while she greeted them all.
"It's so good to see you all!"
"Congrats on the wedding!"
"Three more weeks, right?"
"Yes! We're both very excited!"
The conversation then delved into flower arrangements and colors and cake, mostly taken up by Mabel (although Dipper had quite a few questions and opinions in regards to the former two), and then turned to mentions of taking Mabel and Dipper shopping for the appropriate clothes.
Wendy showed up suddenly, trying to scare the kids and instead succeeding in making them laugh, which she joined in while gripping them in a tight hug. The rest of the evening went from there to reconnecting and reminiscing.
The days rolled easily into each other, and before they knew it, almost a week had passed.
There was a nuance to their family, their home; mornings were Stancakes and Mabel juice, if once was feeling brave; this rolled into The Mystery Shack opening as Soos donned his guise of , Melody and Wendy showing up, and both sets of Twins getting into mischief together, or in their own pairs.
(Dipper even got Stan to play DD&D with him, while Ford was cajoled into helping Mabel knit sweaters for himself and his brother.)
Then evening would wind down, the two female employees returning home, while they watched some tv before going to bed.
Too bad the nights weren't as easy.
Bright fire bright blue deals dealfire golD GOLD YELLOW-GOLD-
"Dipper! Wake up!"
He shot up, sweating, breathing as though the air was too heavy. Long hair brushed against him and his eyes caught sight of his night-draped sister leaning over him.
"M-mabel- ?"
She sighed, closing her eyes and leaning her forehead into his."It's okay bro-bro. It's okay. Just . . .just a dream."
Dipper sat up, scooting and patting next to himself. Mabel, familiar with the gesture, plopped down next to him and leaned into his shoulder.
"You have a nightmare too?" He asked in a whisper.
A nod.
(The thing was-)
"You okay?"
She smiled. "I should be asking you that, dumb-dumb."
(their nightmares were quiet.)
(So quiet, so as not to wake mom or dad; quiet as though there was no air to escape and form into a scream.)
(But they always - always - knew when the other was having a nightmare.)
So he told her his - bad, stupid, deals and fire and himself hurting himself hurting others forksforksforks can't feel his body, numbnumbnumb - and she quietly confessed hers - idiot cry-baby, tricked hurt betrayed, handed it right over, caused X in sky and stone people and hidinghidinghiding like a coward- until they both had tears running down their faces and they held onto each other, her sobs opened to the air and vocal while his was screaming on the inside.
It was normal now, and they faced it together.
Weirdmaggedon had left everyone with some sort of scar, and most certainly the Mystery Twins with more than one.
"Hey Grunkle Stan? Is it okay if Mabel and I go into the woods today?"
It was the day after, and neither had gotten much sleep. Fear and guilt respectively had eaten at them, and even cuddling together all night had only snatched a few winks of sleep. Dipper had even considered wearing his comfort sweater Mabel had made him - a soft, white-gray thing with a navy pine tree stitched to the front and his constellation in the background.
Stan must have obviously suspected something, as he looked up from cooking his bacon and narrowed his eyes, zooming in on the heavy bags. Luckily, Dipper could blame his insomnia or obsessive reading on that. Not so lucky was Mabel's softer-colored rings, which only occurred if she really hadn't been sleeping much.
But Stan must have seen the craving for solitude in them both, because he sighed, "You know what? I don't see why not. I've gotta help Soos with cutting some edges to fit everything in his budget, and somehow Poindexter got roped in with McGucket and Abuelita to go play, ugh," he shuddered, "bingo."
Despite Stan's casual remarks to being an old man, he held an intense hatred for any stereotypical elderly activities, like Bingo. And though Ford had less of the age-afflicted ailments, his soul had quieted more in his age, so he didn't have much trepidation about some of said activities.
They both smiled, grins gleaming wide, but quickly turned their attention back to their Grunkle, "But, I want you to make sure you have your journal and avoid the supernatural, just for today. Okay?"
Dipper easily pulled out the journal, a blue thing with a silver pine tree shaped just like on his hat (which he had switched back with Wendy, just for the summer.) Since the others had been destroyed in weirdmaggedon, he'd done what he could to write down all the notes he could remember, minus any dangerous summonings or spells.
(He did not need a repeat of the Zombie fiasco, no thank you.)
When their two Grunkles had seen Dipper staying up late into the night, writing on loose sheets, Stan had urged Ford (re: harshly whispered) to get him his own journal. It was made with water resistant, fire resistant, and acid resistant materials, although the pages could still be easily ripped by human hands, stained, or charred.
"Of course Grunkle Stan!" He chirped. He wolfed down his breakfast and then they were bolting out the door, Mabel grabbing her disposable camera and trying to shove past him in the doorframe, causing her brother to yelp at her. "Hey!"
"Kids," Stan chuckled, shaking his head. "Ah to be young again, ey Sixer?"
Ford, who was about to walk in, raised a brow in confusion at his brother's remark, but hearing the twins in the distance, and his small, wistful smile said it all.
The day was beautiful; the sky was just blue with little to no clouds, and the sunlight filtered through the forest just right.
They did see the Gnomes and some other such creatures, but merely gave them a wave as they passed. Dipper took to sketching some of the scenery, like the little creek they stopped at, while Mabel balanced and hoped on the rocks jutting from the shallow water.
She turned to him and called, "Dipper!" taking a photo of him as his face turned from curious to laughing, "Mabel! Don't!" the tone purely lacking any anger or annoyance, and then she was laughing, chuckling, pleased, and he couldn't help but join in.
It was idyllic; perfect, peaceful summer day.
"So," he said, closing up his journal that was preserving a detailed sketch of the area and his sister, arms outstretched as she walked across the rocks "precariously". He was sure she'd add he own glitter-pen comments to the picture later. "Where to next?"
Mabel laid her wrist against her hip, a finger on her chin as she pretended to be deep in thought, "Hmmmm. Ooh!" She snapped her finger and pointed past where Dipper sat, deeper into the woods. "That way!"
Dipper squinted into the murkier portion of trees, but felt no malevolence. Before he could agree, Mabel's hand was clasped around his wrist and deftly tugging him along.
They laughed, picking up speed, until they were running. They weaved between trees, pulling apart at one point as a spindly White Birch came between their outstretched arms. They ran on, then next to one another, gradually slowing their pace more and more.
"Mabel, let's go this way!"
"Ooh, Dipper! Careful of that hole!"
"Look! Vulpus vulpus!"
"That's a red fox, you nerd!"
". . . Mabel, that's the red fox's scientific name."
"Well I knew that! Doesn't mean you need to use nerd speak!"
"But you know what I'm saying anyways. . ."
By the time they were walking, playful sibling banter turning to content conversation, the day was already nearing two in the afternoon. Neither paid much attention, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere. There were no problems, no monsters, no bullies; just them, as always, but not just them - there was family back at the shack, and they knew they were loved and supported, and even then, they were aware they were together and enjoying one another's company. Two halves of a whole; brother and sister; twins who are so similar yet so diversely different.
"Hey, what's that?"
"Hmm?" Mabel said, looking up from where she was adding her own notes and doodles to the pine journal. She saw her brother was pointing to an odd hole in the ground, near a pile of boulders and rocks. It looked large enough for even their Great-Uncles to squeeze through, and seemed to slope down.
"You think it leads to a cave?" She asked, standing next to him and peering down, the book held loosely in her grasp.
"Maybe," Dipper said, voice edging in that 'we need to be cautious' tone. "Maybe we should ask the Gnomes about it later."
Mabel have a disappointed sigh; she knew he was right. They'd both experienced enough supernatural forces, and were well aware of the normal dangers the woods had to offer (those snakes had definitely not been happy).
Dipper gave her that knowing look; that, 'I promise it won't ruin our day and I'll distract you so the wondering doesn't eat away at you' face. She knew it well, having been the one to make it at him more often than not. She considered sneaking back, or going in anyways, but then immediately felt guilty. That was too much like secrecy and lying, and they'd both promised not to do that sort of thing to each other.
They needed to trust one another.
Dipper sighed, glad when she saw her consent. He held out a hand, "let me just sketch the area and make a note; you never know. Maybe Ford knows about this place?"
"Okay." She handed it over, but just as his fingers grasped its spine, something yanked it from his grasp.
And straight into the hole.
He gave a strangled choke, fingers jutting out as though he could telekinetically stop its descent, and Mabel's almost sobbed gasp echoed out from behind him.
They both stood there silent for what felt like a long time.
It was broken by Mabel wailing, "oh my gosh Dipper I'm so sorry! I didn't realize it had slipped and-"
"Mabel." Dipper cut her off, voice firm. "It's not your fault. It was practically in my hand. It's my fault it dropped, okay? . . .Okay?" His hands were on her shoulders and he looked at her, waiting for her to move sleeve-covered palms from her face. She did, reluctantly, and met his eyes, nodding once. "O-okay." She sniffed.
He loosened his grip, shoulders drooping. "Guess we'll just have to go get it. It'll probably be fine. I mean, you have the grappling hook, and Grunkle Ford gave us both Swiss Army knives. So," he tried to straighten up, sighing, "let's go do this."
Despite Mabel's claim of Alpha Twin, and her tendency to get them both out of trouble, it was an unspoken rule that Dipper went first.
(Plus, he had also gotten them out of trouble, just as often as they landed one another into trouble.)
The ground was a gradual slope, opening and widening out easily. The darkness prevented them from seeing the journal, as well as the sudden narrow dip that he pitched into.
"Ahhhh!"
Mabel grabbed onto him, but the past year had led more to his bulk as hers did her height, pulling her after him. Both Pines screamed, the latter grimly keeping her grip on her brother.
"Oomf!"
"Ouch!"
The landed not even four feet down, in a little explosion of dirt.
Luckily, Dipper broke Mabel's fall. Unfortunately, he broke her fall.
"Owwww. . . Mabel, c'n you gettoff me?"
"Sorry, bro-bro!" She leapt up, grasping about in the dark and helping pull him to his feet. He rubbed at his face, smearing dirt, groaning, "At least I found the journal. That's what broke my fall. Ugh, I'm gonna have a rectangular indent in my chest for weeks."
His sister giggled in the darkness. "At least I know you're fine, Dip-dop! You don't complain like that if you're really not feeling well!"
He gave a light shove where he thought she was, clipping her shoulder with one of his hands. "It's not funny, Mabel!" He ignored her cackling, instead trying to squint against the darkness. He couldn't see much - but he thought his eyes were adjusting to the glowing off the walls. . .
"Mabel! Look at the walls! They're glowing!"
He was able to see her eyes widen, and her braces gleam faintly as she spoke. "Wow! What do you think is causing it? It kinda looks like the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling in our room. Do you think it's paint?"
Dipper had gone forward, hand brushing against what felt like sandstone. "More than likely it's some sort of phosphorous plant or mineral - uh," he glanced at her, seeing her brows drawn in confusion. "Basically plants or minerals that glow in the dark."
"That's a thing?!"
He chuckled, bangs bouncing as he nodded. "Yep. But it's only specific types of plants a. nd m. . iner. . . als. . ."
"Dipper? What is it?"
He had stood onto his tip-toes, reaching as far up as he could. After some grunting, there was a sliding, grinding sound, and he pulled down an unlit torch.
"Well. . ." and there's that great reluctance in his voice, where he knows he's about to do something he'll more than likely regret later. "I guess. . . since we're already down here. . ." he's looking intently at the empty torch, avoiding Mabel's gaze.
"Hmmm?" She urges him on.
"I guess. . ." he squeezes the torch tightly. "Ugh! I guess we can explore by ourselves!"
"Yay!" Mabel jumps up, clapping happily. "Eeee! This'll be so much fun! Well c'mon Dipper! Light it already - unless, of course," her smile in the dim light turns absolutely malicious, "you want me to light it?"
He holds the torch back, away from her, terrified. "No! I mean, I've got it. We don't need another . . .incident." He shudders, remembering cheetos, a Bunsen burner, and some thirty-odd students running from the classroom with the ceiling shrieking at them.
This is why she wasn't allowed to do any of the actual lab work in science class anymore.
Dipper flicked out the blade on his Swiss Army knife, testing it against various rocks and pebbles, until one permitted a spark. He picked it up, then struck the edge of the blade against it, watching as the sparks flew and eventually caught onto the torch head.
Like he had expected, it lit; the fire first came a blue-purple, then immediately settled to the usual red-orange-yellow. It gave a warm, cheery atmosphere, lighting one another's faces warmly.
"Ooh! Can I hold it Dip-dop?"
He was reluctant, but realized as long as she wasn't starting the fire, it wouldn't be much of a problem. He glanced around, and spotting another on the wall, he pointed to it.
"Grab that one and we'll light it - then we'll both have one."
She scampered eagerly over, hopping up and knocking it out of its sconce. She skipped over, chipper as she leaned it against his and it caught.
"There! Now, let's go broseph!"
He smiled fondly as she walked ahead at an unhurried pace, then shook his head, following after her. "Wait for me, Mabel!"
There had only been one other tunnel, and it didn't go far. Maybe a full five or seven minute walk. The room that opened up had a much lower roof, maybe only seven feet tall. The circumference was smaller, too, than the previous cavern, but not by much. If their Grunkles, plus Wendy and Soos, had been there with them, it would feel uncomfortable at least.
Mabel jabbed Dipper with her elbow, eliciting an 'oof!' and a surly expression from him. But he quickly directed his gaze to where she pointed, as she hissed, "Look!"
His eyes widened. "Oh."
On the wall stood a mirror; it's metal edging gleaming a warm bronze-copper in the firelight. The mirror face, still a silver tone, reflected the torchlight and amplified it, turning the room into a beautiful, soft golden-orange.
It was oval in shape, and quite dominating. It was wide enough to fit both the twins' reflection into it, though the bottom came to just under their chests, while the top was about two feet taller than their heads. They both stepped forward to look at it, expressions mesmerized.
"Oh!"
Mabel's voice was soft, though it seemed to fill the whole room. The Pines twins saw themselves side by side, the reflection backwards as it should be. Their skin took on the warm glow of the fire, and their eyes lit with its light.
Anyone on the street could see they were related, and accurately guess they were twins; much more so could Stan and Ford see one another in each twin, not just in looks (Mabel seemed to be getting the slimmer features that Ford wore, whereas in a few years Dipper would surely have Stan's more square build). Even their personalities, distinct as they were, could be found similar in certain aspects (both were stubborn as hell, and kind-hearted, and driven, and even prideful in certain ways.) And just as much as Dipper shared Ford's quirky nature and intelligence, and Mabel had Stan's love of family and judge of character, she just as much had Ford's long ago over-trusting innocence as Dipper had Stan's fierce protective drive.
But here, in the mirror, they were nearly identical; their eyes, round and soft. Their noses the same shape and size, right above lips the same color. Their hair, curly, Mabel's flowing past her shoulders and Dipper's curling gently around his ears were the same shade of brown. Their faces, even if they would change over time, would always hold the same general oval shape. Even as their features looked so identical, it was more pronounced as their expression pulled and held on their selves in the same exact way.
(They always heard people comment on their similar mannerisms; eerily pulling the same expressions. They'd never actually thought about what that meant.)
(Until now.)
It was odd then, to realize, how strikingly different their eyes were: Though both brown, Mabel's held an almost carmely, amber light to them - warm and happy and playful. Whereas Dipper's were more earthy, darker with gold flecks giving them a more serious, strong-willed air. Both were certainly loving, and determined, but those that said the eyes were the window to the souls spoke absolute truth, and it was revealed right here in the mirror.
"Well," Dipper swallowed tightly, "well. That's . . . it's a beautiful mirror." He tore his eyes away, shuddering.
"Yeah. . ." Mabel pulled herself away with a sharp gasp. "It's. . ."
He looked up, eyes meeting hers. "You felt it too?"
She swallowed tightly. "Yeah."
They began to edge away from it, feeling odd and exposed. Like their souls had been bared before them - and while they shared everything, from their rooms to their day of birth, and even to an extent, their clothes - this felt far more personal and jarring.
(Was the mirror magic?)
(Had it pulled the book out of his grasp, obviously more forcefully than an accidental fall?)
(Was there a reason? A quest? A curse?)
(Or even a blessing?)
They wondered these things in their own fashion, as they finally turned away from the gleaming mirror, and made their way to the exit.
"So. . . do you think Great-Uncle Ford will know what the - the mirror was?" Mabel asked, voice wavering.
Dipper's shoulders trembled with unexplained emotion. "Dunno. Maybe. I'll be sure to document this as soon as we get ou-"
Suddenly there was a shattering, darkness, and the tinkle of falling glass.
And then there was nothingness.
When he woke up, he heard faint ringing. Then-
Hurtshurtshurts owmyhead, Dipper? Dip? Dipdipdipdip Dipper? Okay? Not okay, ow whathappened -
He clutched his head, his own thoughts flooding and clashing in cacophony with the sound of his sister's voice.
Mabe? Mabelmabelmabel owowowow too much too much darkdarkdark, mirror, whatshattered? Wasn't theglass!-
It was too much and too fast and theytheythey-
They?
No.
We.
"Mabel!" He gasped out (did he?) but he didn't need to articulate further because she followed suit, her own thoughts quieting in sync with his, softer and softer. . .
They say up, tilted towards one another and mirroring actions. His left hand her right hand, both reached up and touched the corresponding head. Their thoughts were a confusing jumble, even if muted, and while quieted they flowed together too smoothly.
"What happened?"
The question came out echoing, as both mouths spoke it simultaneously. They blinker at the same time, registering it.
Something must have happened.
We-
We.
"It's like our minds are connected except-"
"-the same."
Both sets of brows furrowed in confusion.
". . .Who are we?"
"Well, we can't be two people like this," they both gestured, the cracking voice speaking, "our minds must have merged together - like, like one person!"
The other voice spoke, the previous one moving their arms in tandem with the other. "So we're connected - like the stitching of a sweater; the knitting is one thing but the add-ons are part of the whole thing when threaded in with the needle."
"But can we still become separate," the other asked. Face quickly turning to worried apologetic, hands waving wildly. "Not that I'm complaining! But the others-"
"Will worry," they finished. "We need to be Dipper and Mabel - not us."
A set nod, only one half doing so. "Okay. Let's do this."
It took concentration to unweave themselves; it began with the flood of too much, and too many, their thoughts doubling as they could still hear one another. The parts that were Dipper and Mabel returned to their respecting minds, but some invisible thread kept them in place, unable to fully separate.
"Owwwww," Mabel groaned, and Dipper tried not to follow suit as her verbal was reflected by a barrage of mental, echoing in his own mind.
He had his eyes shut, hissing. "We'll need to work on this; I think we're stuck linked together, but we should be able to keep ourselves separate.I don't think we can stop hearing each other's thoughts though."
"So we have twin telepathy?"
"I guess you could call it that."
And she couldn't help the flicker of warmth at the thought, and he happily reflected it, because they did love one another and had always had a bond. And was this really so bad? Because although Dipper didn't feel fully like himself, and Mabel was also quite different, they could become We and the Us wasn't bad, it was right because they were twins, two-halves-of-a-whole who belonged to one another.
They helped each other acclimate - it was a little annoying, they would find later. An invasion of privacy and awkwardness, as they tried to keep their individuality. It would be confusing if they pulled the connection too far, just it would be exhilarating as they let themselves be free as one person with two halves - where there was no line between me and you or Dipper and Mabel, but they became them who was Us, an unstoppable force of logic and heart and reason and quick-wits and most of all, love.
But they wouldn't know that until later.
So he helped her to her feet, and they made their way out, chatting silently and trying to control their separate, individual thoughts, instead finding a flow that was back-and-forth instead of synced.
It was late evening by time they returned, dim gold leaching away to twilight.
Stan ran up to them as the door opened, scooping them into a tight hug. "Where were you kids?! I thought-" he squeezed them tighter, sighing. "You said you'd be back by dinner."
"Sorry Grunkle Stan," they chimed perfectly in tune.
He let them go with a sigh. "Just don't do it again, ya hear?"
They nodded.
Ford looked them over, seeing the dirt smudged all over them. Giving a weary sigh, he breathed, "Do I even want to know?"
"We'll tell you Tommarrow," they both said, exhausted.
"You better," Stan said with narrowed eyes. "And Wendy and Soos too. I had ta send her after ya, and Soos was worried sick."
Dipper and Mabel gave each of their Grunkles a strong hug. "Sorry for worrying everyone. Goodnight, Grunkle Stan! Goodnight, Grunkle Ford!"
With that they were up the stairs.
"Did the kids seem a little . . . off to you, Sixer?"
Ford had a hand on his chin, deep in thought. "Definitely, Lee. Definitely."
Upstairs, after having showered each, and munching on some snacks they had stashed away (Dipper noticed his hunger after Mabel's absent-minded note of her own), Dipper sat on his bed, doodling what he could remember of the place, and jotted all the notes he could.
Mabel stared at him from across the way, watching and noting every little tic and mutter and twitch as she listened to his thoughts rumble on, focused. It was actually really soothing, she thought, and he quirked a smile at that.
She still waited for his physical indication - a pat next to himself - before slipping over next to him. She leaned against his shoulder, watching as he wrote.
-hole leader down a tunnel to two small caves, more like burrows
-strange force - wind? - pulled journal down
-the mirror was intimate; bared ourselves to each other, and left the experience as feeling really personal. Soul showing of sorts?
-can hear one another's thoughts and mimic verbal output as well as physical gestures
-can converge or sync into one single person with two bodies sort of?
Currently relaxed and able to move with one another instead of as one another :)
The last thought jotted down was Mabel's, and while Dipper glanced at her, holding out his pen, she shook her head and stayed leaning on his shoulder.
"I'm good," she said, though she didn't need to.
"Sleep?" He asked, though he knew the answer as soon as he thought the question.
He set the book aside and they cuddled together, ready to face the night like they usually did:
Against the nightmares, together.
Bonus:
"So. . ." Stan said, rolling his wrist in a helpless gesture. "You guys have, like, twin telepathy?"
"Yep!" They chirruped together in accordance with Mabel's chipperness.
Ford rubbed his brow, exasperated. "Ugh! Stanley, it's much more complicated than that! This - this String Mirror seems to bind souls and merge them to a degree. It's not just thoughts - it's their very beings! They're essentially one person, though they can separate into their original distinct personalities. It's like, like-"
"Coffee?" Dipper asked, indicating the mug Stan held in his hands. It was fairly early in the morning they had decided to do this, and Mabel had suggested they brew some.
"Coffee?" Ford repeated.
Stan snapped a finger. "Yeah! When you put creamer in, it becomes part of the coffee and ya can't separate it, but you c'n still taste the two different flavors when you think about it. But if you don't think about it, then it's one whole flavor."
"I . . . suppose you could put it that way. . ."
Mabel giggled and Dipper snickered, both speaking playfully, "Sometimes a simple analogy is better than all the nerd-words Grunkle Ford!"
He blinked, the odd mix of both their tones and usage of voice throwing him off. "I guess you two have a point."
Stan just sighed, still mentally absorbing the information. "Welp, I think I'm gonna need somethin' stronger than coffee before I c'n wrap my head around this. I better make more coffee for Soos and Wendy too." He drank the rest of his coffee in one gulp, then went to refill the machine.
Watching as the twins eerily grinned at one another, communicating silently, Ford felt inclined to agree.