I do not own the show GRAVITY FALLS or any of the characters; both are the property of the Walt Disney Company and of Alex Hirsch. I make no money from these stories but write just for fun and in the hope that other fans enjoy reading them. I will ask, please, do not copy my stories elsewhere on the Internet. I work hard on these, and they mean a lot to me. Thank you.
Home for Christmas
(December 2016)
1
"One of these days, and it's not far off," said Wanda Pines, "I'll see you two walk out the door and after that, when you come back, it'll just be for a visit."
"One of these days," Dipper agreed, hugging her. "But not quite yet."
That year Christmas fell on a Sunday—not the best arrangement, because that meant he and Mabel had only seven days before school resumed on January 2. Mabel complained about that—"Don't they know that we need one day of recuperation after New Year's Day?"
But it couldn't be helped. Alex fretted about the kids making the long drive all by themselves, but Wendy had assured him there'd been very little snow, the roads were clear, and if Helen Wheels had enough antifreeze, they'd be OK.
So on Christmas Day itself, with a tank full of gas and enough antifreeze to protect their car down to negative twenty-five degrees, Dipper and Mabel gave Tripper the dog a last pat, said goodbye to Mom and Dad, and set out an hour after lunch, expecting to arrive in the Falls some time around ten that night. Mabel took the first two-hour shift, and from then on they alternated.
They'd found a little bit of a shortcut—previously, they had driven up either to Eugene or to Portland and then had turned east, but by getting off the Five in Weed, they could cut the trip down to between eight and nine hours if they did it with a minimum of stops.
Still a long stretch, but—"We're young, full of pep, and wide-awake!" Mabel pronounced. "And traffic on Christmas and New Year's Days won't be heavy."
Mabel even insisted they could do the jaunt on one tank of gas, but Dipper knew that was mathematically impossible. Even gassed up so much that he worried about a vapor lock, the Carino had a range of roughly 325 miles, so he said firmly, "We're going to stop to refuel in Weed. I've checked, and there are five stations just off the freeway that will be open—"
"You have no sense of adventure!" Mabel told him as she took the ramp to I-5 and, eventually, to the town of Weed, California.
It was, approximately, two hundred and eighty miles and well over four hours to that point. Mabel took a little more than a two-hour shift, so Dipper was at the wheel as they got close to Weed. As always, Mabel laughed at the freeway sign for Black Butte, and not far beyond that, Dipper pulled into a Pacific Star station.
It was about fifteen degrees colder there than it had been in Piedmont, where the high had been 52, and it was uncomfortably breezy. Dipper wore Wendy's fur trapper's hat and his letter jacket, but he shivered as he pumped the gas. Maybe Oregon had the right idea, he thought—there a station attendant had to pump the gas. It was easier to swipe the gas card that Alex had given them as a Christmas present—both he and Mabel had one—but, man, when it was cold, gassing up was uncomfortable!
He hung up the pump, tore off the receipt—for Dad—and got into the passenger seat. Mabel was sitting behind the wheel making vroom, vroom noises. As Dipper buckled up, Mabel said, "Pilot to co-pilot. Did you replace the gas cap?"
"Yes," Dipper said.
"Did you close the gas hatch?"
"Yes!"
"Did you remember that present that you're giving Wendy? The one that was on the mission table?"
"Ye—oh, my gosh, did I?"
"Nope," Mabel said with a chuckle as she started the engine. "That's why you're lucky you got me watching your back, Brobro! I put it in the bag of snacks in the back seat."
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it. Because I intend to bring it up constantly!"
Northeast, and then due north into Oregon, and already the daylight was fading. By the time they crossed the border, full dusk had set in, and it was still another three and a half hours to Gravity Falls.
"We're making good time," Dipper said as they traded places again in Sand Creek. "Not even eight yet. We should be in Gravity Falls by ten-thirty at the latest, unless you want to stop for dinner."
"Are you freaking kidding me, Brobro?" Mabel demanded. "Our vacay up there's short enough already! Full steam ahead! Pedal to the metal! No time to eat!"
"Who are you, and what have you done to Mabel?" Dipper asked.
Mabel, who had reached for the goodie bag and was munching a sandwich, didn't bother to reply.
Driving through the dark, Dipper started to get a little sleepy as they neared the Valley, but Mabel poured him a lukewarm cup of coffee and he sipped from it for the last twenty miles or so. It was definitely cold now—way below freezing, and he had both front and rear defrosters going full blast.
Though the roads were clear and dry, a shallow snowpack lay on the ground, dim under a moonless sky. At last, Dipper made the turn and passed under the metal sign frame that had replaced the old mine-train trestle.
"The Pines have entered the Valley!" Mabel announced. "Hey, let's not disturb Grunkle Ford and Graunty Lorena tonight. I'll text and let them know we're going straight on up to the Shack, and we'll see them tomorrow."
"Deal," Dipper said.
He drove through the town—Christmas lights gleamed everywhere, and when the water tower came in sight, he said, "Hey! Look at that!"
This year the town had strung crisscrossing Christmas lights up the legs and all the way to the top of the tower. From a distance, it looked like a gigantic Christmas tree.
"Mabel like!"
"Me, too."
His heart was thumping a little faster than normal when he turned on the road leading to the Shack. The driveway still had patches of snow in it—more like ice, because the temperature was not far above zero!—and the tires spun at one point, but he kept control.
Dan or someone must have snowplowed the Shack parking lot, enough for a few cars, anyway, because mounds of crusted snow had been shoved to the edges. Dipper parked next to Wendy's classic Dodge Dart, and he saw the door of the Shack open and his fiancée framed against golden light.
He and Mabel piled out. Without bothering with their luggage, they rushed up and Wendy hugged both of them. "You guys! You made it and it's still Christmas! So Merry Christmas, Mystery Twins!"
"Merry Christmas, Wendy!" Dipper said, hugging her.
"Gah, it's freezing!" Mabel said.
"Warm and toasty inside." Wendy led them to the parlor, where a fire crackled, and then brought out hot cocoa and cookies, which Mabel fell upon like Sherman attacking Atlanta.
Dipper waited until he'd kissed Wendy before taking a cup. "I'm going to want to eat a sandwich before going to bed," he said. "If Mabel left any."
Mabel, her mouth full of pecan sandies, said, "You are out of luck."
"Never mind," Wendy told him. "I got bread and sandwich fixin's, a pot of chili I can heat up, and I'll take care of you, Dip. Hey, where's your cold-weather gear?"
"In the car," Dipper told her. "We'll get it out after we warm up a little. What's the temperature outside?"
"Last time I looked at the thermometer, nine degrees," she said. "High today was thirty. Big change, I bet!"
"Yeah, no kidding. It's so good to see you," Dipper said. "I think your hair's finally back to normal."
"Well, yeah, I told you it grows fast. I guess you two need to crash pretty soon. Long drive."
"Well, we are tired," Mabel admitted. "So—one more mug and then we'll go get our suitcases and winter coats and—prezzies!"
"I've got a couple little things for you guys," Wendy said, ruffling Dipper's hair. "I hope you didn't go overboard on me."
"Not really," Dipper said. "Some stuff we thought you'd like. We can leave our presents for Stan and Ford and Sheila and Lorena in the car for tonight. There's nothing that might freeze."
"Let's go get our stuff in a minute," said Mabel, standing with her back to the fire. "And then somebody said something about chili? Anyway, I'm thinking about tonight's arrangements. I'll take the guest room, and you two can have the attic."
"Um—" Dipper said.
"Hey, there are two beds up there!" Mabel said. "One for each of you. Or whatever. So—Merry Christmas, you two!"
"Thanks, Mabes," Wendy said.
"You're welcome. Now let's brave the cold, drag our stuff in, and eat us some chili!"
And Dipper, though very happy, just shrugged, smiled, and nodded.