A/N:

Hey guys! so here's a new chapter. This is at least half in third person Wendy pov, and half first person Wendy Pov. Just to spice things up a little. There's a fair amount of swearing in this one. but what fifteen year old doesn't. Especially when the world has ended. And in their own head. It's pretty repetitive too, so there's that.

Hope this doesn't mean I have to up the rating. That would be the worst.

Description:

Some days were the fucking worst. Some more than others. The world has ended, so this one(?) is already pretty bad.

But then he just has to bring up her, and now this is pretty much going to always be the worst day of her existence.

Fuck, Wendy thought. Fuck.

Wendy had been having the worst. fucking. Day.

Ever.

She wasn't even sure it was a day, really. it could have been weeks, months -

Hours. Seconds.

Or no time at all. Time had stopped after all. Sorta. There was still an innate sort of... feeling of time passing, y'know? that instinctual knowledge, even if you can't see outside, or even if it hasn't changed at all and you can see it, you know time has passed.

Or your time sense is way off wack and it feels like frikin' hours and its not even been two.

That could also be how much time has passed since the triangle guy had taken over.

(Not that she'd ever really been the superstitious type, but she figured even saying his name in her head might be dangerous. Considering the type of creature he was - a so called 'mind demon'.

Yeah, that'd probably be fucking stupid.)

She did have to admit that she probably looked badass though. Not gonna lie.

but never mind that.

The important thing right now? Her dad was close to tears.

An there was something so inherently wrong with that image - (when there wasn't a bottle of alcohol and bitter memories on a bitter day involved), that she had to do something. (and unlike those times, she couldn't just take the bottle away and deal with the drunken ramblings her brothers never, would never have to -

because they didn't look so much like her. So much that on his worst days -

Wendy was no better than a ghost of his past to him. To Dan. To her father.

She envied her brothers sometimes.)

So she quietly escorted Dan with her to another room, exchanging a surprisingly understanding and non-pitying glance with Stan, of all people.

Actually, now that she thinks about it, maybe it wasn't so surprising at all.

So they entered the spare room, empty now, with only a couple spare chairs and a rolled-up rug with the label 'Don't touch for anythings sake.' on it. She wondered why that was, but dismissed it.

Now was a time to be serious, a time not for wandering thoughts.

So she sat her dad down on a chair and pulled up one of her own, sitting backwards on it and crossing her hands under her head like she used to when having 'serious chats' with her dad.

Maybe it'd help. She has no fucking clue.

And so they sat there in silence, Wendy waiting and Dan looking for the right words to say. good ones. Heck, any'd do.

And so it was, for a little while, silent in the room, except for the quiet, closed-mouthed breathing of a teenaged girl, and the louder, open-mouthed breathing of her father.

That while didn't end up lasting long, to be honest.

Dad's opening his mouth to speak now. No sound is coming out though.

I just want to get this over with.

"They're gone. My boys..."He looked so helpless, his voice was so hoarse that in that moment i never pitied him more. He suddenly looked up at me. "Wendy, my little firecracker, i'm such a terrible father. they came, and they took my boys... I didn't know where you were... hell..." he looked so frustrated with himself. He ran a shaking hand through his hair, his breathing short and quick. "I couldn't stop them." He looked at me, anguish written more clearly on his face then it ever was when in a drunken haze and i belatedly realized that he cared more about us then the ghost of a woman long gone.

What a time to realize, eh?

Oh, I'm not saying he doesn't love us - he just seems to love us... less than her, more often then not.

Far, far, more often than not.

Apparently, I was wrong. Wouldn't be the first time. Emotions are stupid. And difficult to figure out.

Relationships aren't exactly my forte, is what I'm saying here.

he swallowed, hard, and continued. "I... don't know what I'd have done if you had been captured. If you hadn't entered with the group, when you did. Probably something stupid. And reckless. And 'manly'." he laughed bitterly. "What does being manly mean, really? If i'm manly, then manly isn't good enough. Not to save anyone." His eyes were getting distant.

Right. Anything like this would always lead back to her. Someway, or another.

The woman he chose to only partially forget.

The lady she never met.

(but was so. fucking. constantly. compared to, it was ridiculous. And, yeah. She's not happy about that. Who would be?)

"Couldn't save the boys. You didn't need me, never have, never will. Couldn't save her." he looked at me, through me, and my feelings were bitter agian.

"you look so much like her that it hurts sometimes."

Well. That was new.

Oh, and ouch.

He blinked, surprised, but didn't take it back. Those words had been a long time coming anyway.

It was a relief to have them out.

Shut up. I know what you're thinking. I'm relieved, really (no i'm not. it hurts, man, it fucking hurts.)

Shit.

Can't hide in my own head. Damn. Forgot that.

"I'm sorry." He apologized, but the words ran hollow. My replied smile and "It's fine" did too.

He averted his eyes, and with a fierce feeling of anger, white hot, I thought -

you should be ashamed.

- but i squashed those thoughts. Not right now.

(Not ever. Please.)

I coughed, awkwardly, and shifted in my chair. Quietly, he said, eyes still focused on a point on the wall somewhere, blatantly trying not to look at me, "I have your gear. Survival stuff. Armor-like clothes. Climbing gear. Ax-sharpening kit. All the stuff you need. It's in the hall if you want it."

And with those... awkward last words, he crossed the room with a slow pace and a halfhearted pat on my shoulder, and with another quiet sniff covered by a cough, my dad left the room.

... It's too fuckin' stuffy in here all of a sudden.

I need some space.

So, i walked out of the room, and, inconspicuously grabbing the survival gear bag on the way - I'm taking it. its useful. - i went into the bathroom, got changed into the - admittedly awesome looking - armor-like clothes and put on the gear, then, shouldering the bag, left the room to go to the roof. My place.

For some fucking space.

Ha. Did i really think I'd get that?

If I've learnt anything from living in Gravity Falls, its that - especially during apocalypses, which, hello -

You never get a goddamn break.

(If you were wondering, I was intending to grieve about my brothers. but i guess my needs'll have to wait for now.)

A/N:

Not too sure on how well the Pov thing went. I'm also not exactly sure about why my headcanons for Wendy's missing family member went wild with me...

but they did. And thus this piece of writing is what you just read.

Rather than, oh, i don't know.

A happy one.

Wendy's brothers were kinda put on a back burner, but be warned that there'll be yelling and Wendy unhappy with a certain person for taking brother(s) for granted, in the next one.

Possibly. For all i know, the next one could be about soos.

Highly unlikely though. I'm not really sure how to write the guy, truthfully. I also want to thank all of you guys who reviewed this story about me needing to fix it -

i probably would have forgotten about it, to be honest, and left the thing unfinished.

So yeah. kudos to that.

I really do hope people enjoy my stuff, and aren't just annoyed with the formatting. I was too, to be fair. But still. So, do you like it? constructive criticisim is welcome, there are always ways to improve writing.

(you wouldn't believe how many stories I've read today that spelled our as 'are'. or mixed up your and you're.

would not believe.)

Sorry about the long authors note. none of you probably even read this. goodbye.