Robbie brushes off his jeans and climbs out of the open grave. His friends think he's insane for lounging around the graveyard, but he feels at home here and can't accurately put that in words. He walks the path towards the older section of the graveyard where the old timers stay. They exchange words and he makes the offer to help… as usual, they refuse. They wait for something that probably won't come, but it's not his place to order them around.

"Robbie! Robbie get back! Ghosts!" The Pines twins are running towards him so he throws his hands out to try to stall their approach.

"Qr! Vwdv edfm Glsshu!" Robbie shouts, still speaking the language of the spirits without thinking.

"Gosh Dipper! He's speaking in tongues! He must be possessed!" Mabel shrieks and pulls a grappling hook out from underneath her sweater. Grappling hook?

"Stop! Stop I'm not speaking in tongues!" Technically he was, but that's not the point. The old ghosts are powerful and do not tolerate the living.

"Get back ghosts!" Dipper wields his stupid book like some kind of knight's shield.

"Robert, take your friends and go home." Robbie nods and grabs each kid by the arm and hauls them away towards the less haunted areas of the cemetery.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" He glares at the so-called "Mystery Twins".

"What are you doing here?" Dipper counters, putting his hands on his hips.

"I'm here all the time. That's normal for me. Those guys don't mess around; they will kill you for not respecting their territory. What were you thinking?" He feels like an idiot for saying it out loud. He glances around for the men in the red robes. He knows they've taken his memories before then gave them back afterwards. It seems that he's allowed to remember ghosts, even if it makes him feel like a freak.

"Wait, you talk to ghosts all the time?" Mabel starts jumping up and down with excitement.

"What? No. Yes." He sighs and flops down in the grass, lounging against one of the tombstones. "Fine. I see and talk to dead people. Are you happy now?"

"I have soooo many questions." Dipper flips open his battered book and starts clicking a pen incessantly.

Robbie sighs, knowing he'll have to put up with the twerps until the Men in Red show up. They're late this time. "I'll only answer until I'm bored. Then I'm out of here."

"Okay, uhh… let's see… how long have you been able to see and talk to ghosts?"

"Since, like, forever." He discards his idea of giving bad answers. Dipper is a smart kid and it might be nice to have someone to actually talk to. "But I didn't know what it was until I was eight."

"Wait, you were speaking another language. But the ghosts I've encountered speak English." Mabel starts picking wild daisies and weaving them into a wreath. Dipper just continues to stare at him.

"Well yeah but it's an etiquette thing. You want to be taken seriously, you learn their language. Just like a business deal." He leans over to try to read the musty old journal in Dipper's lap.

"That's so cool, Robbie! You're helping them." Mabel stops in front of the fresh grave and carefully arranges the flower wreath to remove the dead flowers.

"Okay so… what do you do with them?" Dipper clicks his pen again and again.

Robbie wants to grab the pen and fling it into the woods. "The new ones just need a point in the right direction. Unlike regular morons, I'm like a ghost magnet. They come find me when they don't know what to do. Or they don't remember where they are. I guess it helps that my parents are morticians." He never thought of the connection before, but saying it out loud makes too much sense. "My family has been in that business for a long time."

He vividly remembers his grandfather's funeral home and how the thick drapes were perfect for hiding in. He would play for hours with children that no one else could see. And for years he had to go to speech therapy because no one could understand him, except his "imaginary" friends.

"What do you do with them when they find you?" Dipper's pen clicks and Mabel has moved on to refreshing the other flowers nearby.

"Well… it's all very technical and complicated. I make sure they get picked up on time. Or if they have other business… sometimes that has to happen before they get picked up." He struggles trying to explain without scaring them. Can a twelve-year-old really understand what death means? Would Dipper Pines really understand the cold hands that wake him from sleep and the way that he feels so natural and relaxed here among the dead and loathes the touch of the living?

"What 'other business'?" Dipper finally stops clicking his pen and Robbie takes that moment to collect his thoughts into something that might actually make sense. He hates that it's Dipper that he can talk about this with, but it could be worse. Tambry can't stand the thought of death. She doesn't even like hanging out at his house.

"Look… most of them… they can't touch us. Or things. Or contact other people. So… so they get me to do it for them. I do get paid."

"What do they pay you with, Ghost money?" Mabel sits herself down beside him, her knees curled up underneath her long sweater.

"It's hard to explain. I'm not really supposed to say." Again he tries to read Dipper's handwriting on the old paper. "What's with all the questions anyway? I'm not some kind of freak!" He looks around again, still no sign of the Men in Red. They must be busy today.

"Who do you keep looking for?" Mabel gasps, putting her hands on her face. "Were you going to meet your ghost lover?!"

"What? No! You know I'm still seeing Tambry. Usually when I talk to people about this these guys in red robes and hoods show up and take them away. Then the person comes back and they don't remember anything. I'm waiting for them to take you away now." He stands up, anxious now that he's said far too much and the men haven't come by. "They're usually all over this."

"Oh you mean the Blind Eye Society? They've been disbanded." Dipper closes his book casually and looks far too pleased with himself.

"Yeah! They won't bother anyone anymore. So it looks like you're stuck with us!" Mabel hooks Robbie's arm with her own.

Robbie blinks, unbelieving at first… but it does make sense. Still, he wouldn't dare tell Wendy that he first approached her back in the seventh grade because he found her mom sitting at his kitchen table. "It's still a secret. My secret. So if you tell anyone, I'll personally hand you off to the Ferryman!" He stands and brushes off his jeans again, leaving the weird twins behind.

He uses the camera on his phone to take a look back at the twins and grins. They look sufficiently terrified now, so he's pretty sure they won't run back to where the old ghosts are. Being responsible like this makes him hungry. He meets Tambry at the mall and kisses her.

"Robbie, seriously! Have you been in the graveyard again?" Tambry fusses over the dirt stains on his jeans.

"Just for a little bit. I can go home and change if you want me to," he attempts to calm her down. His usual excuses of "having to work" are getting old, even though he's sure none of his friends would actually ask what he does all day.

He's glad they don't ask. Because he likes having friends. They won't be there if he tells them. They won't conveniently forget about it the next day. It will be real then. Permanent. He's not supposed to leave witnesses.