The next thing he knows is a loud pounding sound. bangbangbang!
"Dipper?" calls an old, familiar voice. "Dipper, are you in there?"
Dipper cracks open his eyes, blinks bleary a few times, and stretches his limbs out under the blankets. "Mmmrg?"
There's a shuffling noise. "Dude, are you awake in there?"
Dipper recognizes the voice as Wendy's. His eyes fly open. "Wendy?" He starts to struggle up.
"Do you think we should break down the door?"
That's definitely Soos's voice. Panicking at the thought of Soos kicking his way into Dipper's room, Dipper tries to kick the blankets off. "No! Don't kick down the door! I'm coming!" He manages to get up, trips and bangs his face on the floor, and finally makes it. He flings open the door just in time. "Don't kick in my door!"
"Oh hey dude." Soos greets him big his classic goofy grin. "I wasn't really gonna kick down your door."
"Dipper!" Wendy's face breaks into a grin as well. "Wow kid, you got older."
Wendy's different too, but most of her is still the same, which Dipper finds oddly comforting. She still wears flannel, though she's cut her hair, and the ends of it stick out, all spiky underneath the hat she always wears. He rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah, that, uh, tends to happen to people."
She punches him lightly in the arm. "Well, you look good, man. It's good to see you again."
"Thanks."
"Oh dude, I can't help it anymore, I gotta hug you." And Soos squashes Dipper.
As Dipper flails for air, Wendy starts to lead the way outside, and Soos releases Dipper to follow her. Dipper caught his breath and straightened out his shirt. "So what exactly is going on?"
"Camping trip!" Both Soos and Wendy answered him at the same time.
"No," he said with an omninous feeling.
"Heck yeah!" Wendy looped one arm affectionately around his neck. "We've got all the qequpiment."
Dipper nearly tripped down the stairs, unbalanced by Weny'd roughousing, but Soos was right in front of him and he only faceplanted on Soos's back. Soos didn't even notice. "And we mean, all the equipment," he said. "I packed the truck full of snacks. No camping trip complete without snacks."
"S'mores!" Wendy lets go of him and cheers. Soos joins in.
"But I don't have any camping stuff!" Dipper protests.
"That's no problem," says Wendy. The three of them emerge onto the porch and Dipper blinks in the late-afternoon sunlight. "Your uncle wrangled up a sleeping bag and stuff for you, and I've got a tent for each of us. You're totally all set." She points; sure enough, there's Grunkle Stan, holding a sleeping bag roll under one arm and watching the three of them with a very unamused expression.
"But I don't—"
"Overuled." Wendy shoves Dipper toward Stan, who drops the bag into his arms.
"Have fun, kid," says Stan, and Dipper almost thinks he sounds worried instead of annoyed, but it's hard to tell.
And that's how Dipper finds himself crammed in the cab of Soos's truck between him and Wendy, bouncing around uncomfortably as they drove into the woods as the sun dipped beyond the edge of the trees.
A feeling of the familiar settles over him; he can kind of believe that it really is just like the old days, as he finds himself laughing at Wendy's quips and Soos's goofs. It's so much like their old adventures, when the four of them would drive into the woods to investigate some odd thing or other. Even then, half the time, it had just been a cover for getting up to mischief and hanging out together without the supervision of caretakers or Wendy's friends to distract them.
They find a decent-sized clear spot between several towering pines and parked the truck. Wendy pitches the tents; she's the only one with the know-how and the lack of clumsiness to do it. Soos runs around collecting firewood and piles it up before starting the campfire. Dipper tosses his bag into his tent and unrolls his sleeping bag halfway in, halfway out so he can sit right outside the flap, facing the campfire, and be a part of their little circle.
Outside the noises of their little group, the forest is quiet. With the sun going down, the shadows are all getting long and gloomy. There's a sharp chill in the air as the day-heat faded away, too. The fire crackles and snaps as it gets going, and the smell of woodsmoke fills the air.
"Catch." Wendy tosses him a stick for roasting. She conjures up a cooler from somewhere and fishes hotdogs and sodas out of it, passing them around. Dipper takes it all quietly, spearing his own hotdog and letting it droop over the flames while Wendy and Soos keep up their conversation.
It isn't really working. Even with Wendy's and Soos's enthusiasm, even getting out of the house and being with his friends, even being back in this place that is so much a part of him, he can't feel like his old self.
"Here, Dipper."
Dipper glances up. Wendy's holding out a bottle toward him, a small smile on her face. As he takes it from her, she winks.
"What is…is this whiskey?" he asks, brow furrowing. "You're trying to get us drunk?"
"Eh, just a little bit." She eyes him. "Don't drink the whole bottle."
"I knew that," he mutters, unscrewing the lid and sniffing. He takes a swig and winces at the bitterness. It goes down burning, but he welcomes it — it's the most he's felt all day.
"Did you just drink it straight?" Wendy's eyes widen and she whacks Soos in the arm. "Dude, he just swigged it straight from the bottle. I was thinking you could pour some in your hot chocolate or something. That's so hardcore."
"Oh…yeah," says Dipper belatedly. "You know me…never anything the easy way…" He takes another swig while Wendy shakes her head.
Soos shudders at him. "I could never do that."
They pass the bottle around as the woods faded first into dusk, then into darkness. The easy conversation dwindles into strained silence and soon they're all sitting around staring into flames with blank expressions, every once in a while glancing at each other through the spiraling smoke, listening only the crackling of the wood and the occasional pop that precedes a flurry of sparks.
"It's really not the same without her."
It's Wendy that speaks up. She's staring into the depths of the smoldering logs, glassy-eyed. Dipper's chest tightens.
"I miss her," says Soos. His voice sounds dull and completely unlike him. "She always knew how to have fun."
Dipper says nothing. He plucks the whiskey out of Wendy's hands and takes several more big swallows, his eyes and throat burning. He doesn't know how much of that he can attribute to the smoke and how much to the lump growing in his throat, cutting off his words.
"I really wish she could be here," agrees Wendy.
Dipper stands up. He sways slightly and stumbles away from the fire, desperate for fresh air.
Soos looks panicky. "Where are you going?!"
"I'll be right back," he announces. His hands are shaking. He shoves them in his pockets.
"Dipper, no," says Wendy. "I'm sorry, we'll stop talking about Mabel, come back—"
"It's not that," Dipper lies, tongue feeling slippery in his mouth. "I just — I gotta pee. I'll come back."
He staggers away from the campsite, almost tripping over rocks and tree roots as he goes. The sounds fade away behind him until he can't hear Wendy or Soos anymore, and he stands for a moment, getting his bearings and letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. The campsite is barely visible through the trees, only the occasional flicker of the fire showing through the trunks from far off. Trying to control his breathing, he paces until he finds a fallen log and sinks down on it in a stupor.
There's a gap in the tree canopy above him. He tilts his head back and gazes up at the stars, glittering through the opening. They're always much clearer here in Gravity Falls, thicker, splattered across the black ink surface of the night sky. There's no city pollution to hide them.
Dipper feels like he's too small. Or the world is too big.
After a while he begins to calm down. It's a cold, but he welcomes it after the heat of the campfire, though he rubs at his arms as he sits. Crickets sing from the brush all around him, soft and quiet in the darkness. He takes a deep breath and settles back against the log. He doesn't want to sleep, but the trunk is comfortable. He can lie here awhile. Wendy and Soos can wait.
The woods are lovely, peaceful, comforting somehow. The night drinks him in, small insignificant human, lost in a wide mysterious world. Dipper's eyelids begin to slide shut, slipping down down down —
He bolts upright. There, a glimmer between the somber tree trunks, a pale white light peering through the woods. What was that? Bits of pulpy tree bark break off in his hands as he pushes himself into a sitting position. His head feels like it's spinning, dizzy. How long has he been asleep? It can't have been that long; when he glances back, he can make out the warm glow of the camp fire and Wendy's and Soos's silhouettes still there.
He inhales a cold breath to wake himself up. His eyes probe the darkness. What was that he'd seen just now?
Then, for half a second, a pale glow appears, far off. Two pale glows, like eyes staring out at him. They hover for a moment and wink out.
Dipper sucks in a gulp of air; the moment left him shaking, goosebumps all over his skin, chills everywhere. But, even as he runs his hands over his arms, he can feel the goosebumps fading again, normal feeling returning.
"Hello?" he questions the night air, not knowing why he's even speaking.
Nothing answers him.