Gideon stared at the envelope in his hands. Mabel Pines's handwriting had gotten even prettier during the past few years. The shortness of the letter was perplexing, but he had heard about Dipper's disappearance. The silver haired teen shuffled past the other inmates, ignoring everyone in the immediate vicinity. They all knew to leave him alone when he got mail.
No, they wouldn't bother him. But the letter. He reread the address on the envelope. Fidgeted with the sealed flap. It had been five whole years and she hadn't contacted him until now. His parole meeting was in two weeks. There was a lot of stuff going on that he couldn't afford to be distracted from.
Should he wait to read the letter? Should he read it right away? He tucked it into his pocket. Mabel Pines was still dear to his heart, but she had snubbed him and he had more important things to do than pine.
Well, he could have a crush and do his work at the same time. But he wasn't going to read the letter right away. Lil' Gideon had grown up a lot during his time in prison, and his parole would bring about a lot of newspapers. His father was drumming up as much interest as he could.
The silver haired teen set about his routine once more, the letter from Mabel burning a hole in his pocket and his brain the whole two weeks.
Gideon waltzed out of his parole meeting free as a bird and light as a feather. He tried to keep a cheerful grin on his face for the cameras, but what he really wanted was to go home, eat some ice cream, and read Mabel's letter. He ducked into his father's car, waited until they pulled away from the curb and left the flashing lights behind, then tore the envelope out of his suit pocket and dug in.
Well, if she needed to talk to him, he would just go and meet her. He chewed his lip and reread the letter. Should he bring flowers? Chocolate? Would that creep her out? Ugh, there were so many damn questions rolling around his brain.
"Daddy, can we pop into a florist's or something real quick? And also, after that, can we pop by the mystery shack? I want to see Mabel."
His father glanced worriedly at him through the rearview, "are you sure about that, bucko? A lot of strange stuff has been happening around there lately."
Gideon frowned, "I know, but I'm going anyway. You don't have to stay."
Bud sighed, "Okay, Gideon. Florist then Mabel's house?"
"Yes, please."
Then he couldn't figure out what sort of bouquet to get for her. He wanted something along the lines of, "I'm sorry for your loss please keep in touch."
Maybe some Adonis, or Pheasant's Eye, to represent sorrowful remembrance. For Dipper. Not that Gideon was too sorrowful about his archrival being gone, but he had to at least pretend. He picked out a few sprigs of Alstromeria to represent his loyalty. To Mabel. He sighed, remembering how many letters he had written and then thrown away because she had asked him to cut contact.
Was he really going to run back to her, arms outstretched, welcoming her back into his life as though she had never asked to leave?
Yes. He was.
He asked the florist to add some baby's breath to the whole mess and wrap it in the nicest paper he had. The guy was super nice about it. Gideon let his father pay for the flowers, then they were back in the car and on their way to Mabel. He had made her wait far too long with no response.
The shack was twice as beat up as he was used to seeing it. Where was that detestable Stanley Pines? He nearly smacked himself in the face. Probably out looking for Dipper.
The silver haired teen trotted up to the door and smoothed his slightly messy hair out of his face. He had grown out of the bouffant, mostly because he had grown taller and it didn't suit his face anymore. He had to figure out something to keep it out of his eyes, though. Probably hairgel.
He heard his dad drive off, then knocked on the door a few times. Was he being intrusive? Footsteps sounded behind the wooden wall. Maybe he was being intrusive. The handle clattered and the hinges squeaked. He should have just answered her letter instead of visiting. The door creaked open, revealing the tired and thin face of the wonderfully tall Mabel Pines.
He smiled up at her and offered the bouquet.
"I didn't think you were going to answer my letter." Her delicate fingers wrapped around the offering. She sniffed a few of the blossoms.
Gideon gulped, "W-well, I was a bit busy when you sent it, so, I didn't really get a chance to read it until today. And, now that I'm out on parole and everything, I figured a visit was in order. Although, if you aren't up for it, I could just leave. It's not a big deal or anything."
She smiled a little, far more sadly than he ever expected. Her eyes pooled with tears.
"Mabel?"
"Dipper is dead, Gideon."
Shock made his mouth go dry.
"I thought he was just missing?"
The brunette shook her head, "He's dead. I know for certain."
The silver haired teen ran a few things through his head, "do you have any part of his body? Hair? Ashes? Anything? We could try to bring him ba-"
"We can't bring him back, Gideon. There's nothing left."
Well, shit.
"So, why did you write m asking for help?"
Her normally warm brown eyes turned hard. Anger made her knuckles turn white. Gideon raised his eyebrows in surprise. He knew she could have a temper, but she never looked as bloodthirsty as she did now.
He ignored the part of his brain that told him she was super hot. He knew that already. But she was upset and he was trying to respect her feelings.
"Pacifica Northwest murdered my brother. She's literally a witch and I want revenge."
Mabel's voice was filled with rage. Gideon could understand that. He put his hands in his pockets, adopting a somewhat casual stance.
"So, you need help tracking a witch. And, mayhaps, killing a witch."
The older teen nodded. Gideon shrugged.
"I guess I'll get started. I got a new cell phone. I mean, it's at home and all right now. May I have your number? It'll be easier to keep in touch that way."
His crush nodded, then disappeared inside the shack. From what he could see, it was a huge mess. Dirty dishes and candy wrappers littered the floor. dirty laundry and blankets covered all the furniture. Several pairs of shoes sat about the doorway. Mabel trotted back over, kicking things out of her way so she wouldn't trip. She was grasping a pen and a notebook. Gideon offered her a smile.
The taller teen wrote down a few digits, tore the page out of the notebook, and handed him her number.
"Thanks for asking me to help you, Mabel. I hope we can forge a proper friendship."
She smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.
"Thanks for reading my letter."
They said their goodbyes, and Gideon walked back to his house. He would be fine with her friendship. He would rather be her friend than be her enemy. The silver haired teen smiled to himself as he walked.
He had a purpose. That was such a nice change of pace after prison.
