Soooo.. hey. This is sorta my first time writing a fanfiction, so I'm going to try and explain this weird fantasy I've been creating in my head. I'm not sure if I'm going to make it an alternate ending to Sock Opera, but it's really up to you- the reader! You can interpret where this all fits in any way you'd like. Basically, what happens is.. well, I won't spoil anything. This is sort of like just a chapter? Or a prologue? Eh.. I'm not too sure. Why did I name this fanfiction Just Desserts? Not too sure myself. Well, uh, I hope you like it!

- - Story Begins Below - -

"Mabel!" Dipper whimpered as he watched his beloved sister fall to her death, tears spilling down his cheeks. Blood roared in his head, arms going limp as a large 'thud' with a 'crack' reached his ears. His heart pounded in his mind, shaking as he stared down at his lifeless sibling.

He seemed to slow down, breathing choppy and everything going colorless. He turned onto his back, staring out at the world for moments in silence except his own strained sobbing. He slowly stood up, stumbling forward and grabbing hold of the railway. He looked down and shut his eyes, crying out loudly. What was he going to do? She was gone. Forever. He sat there, alone, for what seemed to be a thousand years.

Alone.

It was such a terrible word to begin with; he had always struggled socially, and envied Mabel for her easy, outgoing personality. He had always felt that way when he was younger, barely getting along with his small circle of friends. This summer had been so great! So many adventures, and though sometimes it was hard to sleep at night with the numerous, terrifying things he had experienced, he had always had one supporter by his side. She had depended on him in unfamiliar situations, as did he- and though her 'wishes' were sometimes random and made little to no sense, he had tried to go with it. He didn't understand that the stupid book he had tried to understand was such a big deal.

He hadn't been truly 'alone' ever once in his life. But now, the guilt, grief, and a million other emotions he couldn't begin to comprehend was eating him up quickly. He ended up hyperventilating, passing out and falling off the raised platform just before the others could get up to him. Pain entered the back of his head sharply, before his vision filled up with tiny black dots. He was out in a matter of seconds, but he could hear an all-too familiar laugh just above him. It was so cold, so cruel, that even that made his mind ring with the terrible echo of that sound.

He remembered a few things in the hospital- there were lots of noises, and lights. Many unfamiliar faces he once knew so well came in to visit him. The food was cold, and the walls were bland, despite the few balloons and flowers that distracted him from the pain. There was an extremely tacky, cheesy poster that he read over and over. It was a little orange kitten, struggling to cling on a tree branch. 'HANG IN THERE, BUDDY!' It read, in bright, garish rainbow text. He didn't know how many times he had read it over and over, but whenever someone came in and pointed it out, he would laugh.

He was out in just a few days. He wondered briefly why gifts were even brought to him for such minor injuries, but it had been more serious than he had thought, he guessed. His eyes traced the outlines of the trees ahead as they drove by, occasionally fiddling around with his seat belt. Sometimes, he would turn to see Stan, studying him while he drove in silence. He couldn't tell whether the old man felt guilty for him, or just confused about the whole ordeal in general. In all honesty, Dipper was just as confused as he was.

When they arrived at home, Stan opened the car door for him, and cautiously, held out a hand for Dipper to receive support from. They were both a bit hesitant, though Dipper wasn't really sure why. The grizzled figure was just another strange face now, but he felt like he was.. letting him down. Did that make sense? Maybe it was just his frazzled emotions playing tricks on him. He was walked quickly into a ratty tourist trap, called the 'MYSTERY HACK'. Or was it 'MYSTERY SHACK'? The pale boy could barely look down to see a red 'S', upside down, in the dirt. It was a while before he was sat down on the sofa, the TV blaring some dumb info-commercial crap. He had to squint to look at the bright light, considering the room was extremely dark.

Stan flopped down next to Dipper, watching him for a while.

"You should fix that," Dipper said, obviously wanting to break the silence. It didn't work, because for another five minutes, Stan tried to figure out what the hell his great-nephew was even saying.

"Fix what?" The man finally grunted, resting his chin on his sweaty hands as he awaited an answer.

"The.. the sign thing. It says 'Mystery Hack'. It's 'Mystery Shack'. I saw the S on the ground. You should.. fix it,"

Stan looked away, chuckling a tiny bit—though it was obviously forced. "Alright, kid. I'll fix it."