Dipper tossed an armful of dirty clothes down the stairs, wiping his arm along his forhead. He'd been up since 4 am cleaning the attic up. Getting it ready with her comfort in mind. First thing Mabel was gonna need when he got her was a warm bed to rest in. No doubt she'd be exhausted after the long trip here...the emotional tole was immense. Dipper knew what it was like. Coming home from school with a paper that needed parent signature, and watching Stan sign his name. Something so trivial and forgetful was painful. Not seeing his mother's bold cursive and dotted heart, but his Grunkle's scrunched signing.
Little things like that were going to get her when she least expected it. Not to mention the blunt grief that came along with the knowledge that the people who literally made you, held you as a babe, fucking taught you how to walk...now pretend you never existed. It was worse than being hated. Because at least you had to be real to be hated. To have someone feel something for you other than utter indifference.
So he'd have to be there for her, tell her mom and dad still loved her. Even if he knew they didn't. That's what it would take, for a while. A safety blanket of maybe mom wants to call but hasn't...or they want me to call first? They'd changed their number. Maybe a letter? There was never a letter. Then maybe one day soon, she'd wake up and hurt less. Still hurting...but less.
But they'd be together, and that's what it was all about. His endgame.
Dipper sighed, shrugging those thoughts away, concentrating on his room again. Maybe she'd like it. It was still the same ol attic they spent the same ol summers in. But that's where I kissed her the first time. He looked to the other side of the room, where her bed used to be. Dipper remembered he'd almost missed her lips, coming close to bumping noses instead, but she had angled her head just enough. It had made him feel as if she might like him back. She had definitely kissed him back.
His gaze fell to the multi-colored rug strewn across the floor. And that's where we first...slept together. He usually shook those thoughts off like a cold, but geez he was giddy. He woke up feeling like a damn daisy. The sun was brighter and warmer on his face, in his bones.
"Maybe I could buy her some clothes?" Dipper said aloud, opening his cobwebbed closet, the light flickered on and suddenly off with a popping fizz. He'd have to change the bulb later. But really, how psyched would she be when she walks in and bam! New sweater dress hanging up! She'll be all like, Oh Dipper yay lets kiss and hold hands and let me rub your huge, and conveniently oiled, muscles! Yeah, that's what she'd say. He snorted. As if.
Whew boy it smelled like sweat in here. He'd have to fix that. He walked over to the window, opening both panes and locking them there. Dipper eyed the carpet, full of pocket change and pot seeds. Wrappers and cups were stashed under his bed. His stained ass sheets, cluttered drawers, another pile of laundry covering the heat vent. Yikes. This place was a literal fucking sty.
Dipper snagged as many dirty cups and sticky cereal bowls his lanky arms could hold, and then some. He scurried up and down the stairs, hauling things to the kitchen and starting loads in the washer. He didn't notice Stan's side eyed glances from the living room.
Finally Dipper could see the carpet, after he vacuumed, twice. He polished everything and even changed the sheets. Everything was looking...livable. Now, maybe Mabel wouldn't feel too out of place. He knew she'd grow homesick for their mom and dad. He still did, sometimes. But he was learning to put it past him. And as much as he hated it for her, she would have to. They both wished there was another option. But matters of the heart called for...bending. Giving up one thing for another.
Mabel wouldn't be able to text him much today, she was going shopping with their mom. Something about a "western throwdown" birthday. A new interest of hers.
Sometime, he wondered if she thought about their plan as much as he did. Cause he was literally always thinking about it. 50 percent can't wait, and 50 percent Grunkle Stan is gonna kill me. There was always the off chance he wouldn't kill his favorite nephew. A chance they'd just have to take. Like leaping off a foggy cliff-side to land in god only knew what.
Dipper scooted down the stairs, straightening up the carpet run and flicking boogers off the railing.
Stan hollered to him from the t.v. room. "Hey what are you bustling around here for? You're usually out the door by now." In the woods looking for anything to take his mind off things. Mabel said he was losing gratitude for the mysteries this town had. Was he?
Dipper made his way in the kitchen, sweeping the last of the dirty dishes in hot soapy water.
"My room was filthy. I had spiders building a monarchy system in the rafters. There was a big revolt. Disastrous really, God would say they were meant to fall from the start. Pitiful." Dipper quipped. A foreign smile tugged the corners of his mouth.
"Uh huh. Sounds deep kiddo. Glad you have it in you." Stan chuckled. A genuine laugh, deep from his belly.
"Someone has to." Dipper wiped his hands down the front of his jeans. "I'm still heading out today. We need lightbulbs." And Mabel needed a new dress with her new life. Er, well, not really that new. Refurbished.
"Oh thank god, I'm tired of shitting in the dark." Stan bleated, chortling to himself.
"I uh- yup. Alright then." Dipper made a final quick run back up to the attic, giving everything a satisfied once over, he snagged his wallet from the book shelf. He sighed to himself. Taking in the smell of his room, the light it had. In another day, it would all change.
Dipper made his way down to the living room, standing between Stan and the t.v. Stan tried to peek around him.
"Can I borrow the car?" Dipper asked.
Stan craned his neck even harder, tossing him the keys from the coffee table with a grumble.
"Well you ain't walking, kid. Now shoo. Turns out the funds lawyer likes dogs." He chatted about the episode of Andy Griffith on behind him.
Dipper nodded with a curt smile. "Sounds like a twist if I ever heard one. I'll be back before dark. Need anything?"
"A new liver. No, uh...those coconut covered chocolate liquor truffles. The one's in the gold foil trays?" He dabbed his fingers together, mock sheepish. Dipper scowled.
"Those are like ten dollars a bag. I'll get you some trail mix." Stan gasped, jerking back as if he'd been slapped.
"You don't have the guts. Your kind never does." He wagged a finger at him. Dipper laughed with him and gave him a wave. A softer smile spread on his great uncle's face.
"Be safe. She's been having a hard time starting up." Stan turned back to the television, kicking the recliner up. Same routine every Saturday morning.
"No problemo. See ya." Dipper zipped his way to the car, having an easy enough time cranking it up. He pat the steering wheel in approval before puttering down the long driveway, checking the mail before heading in to town.
The trees had changed so much, he noticed as they whirred past him. Auburn and maroon maples everywhere. Tourists drifted by sometimes. Mabel had never seen Gravity Falls in the autumn. She never got to see the fading leaves, the later sunsets, her breath hanging in the air. But she would. He'd get to show her everything.
Oh man, there was a part of the woods along the mountains base where some huge mushrooms grew. And every fall they withered down enough for him to climb over. Once he'd made it to the other side, a thin trail a mile long stretched before him. On either side there was sheer rock wall that shot up for as far as the eye could see. He'd had to shimmy through the narrow valley, holding in a breath as he wedged between the cleaved mountains.
The path opened at the far end to reveal a forgotten grotto, tucked away behind the sleeping bluffs. Iron rods jutted from the earth, flowers scattered the ground in all directions. The casted fixtures aimed up to the sky, sticking side by side making a large X. Dipper had ran his fingers down the curious metal, they'd slipped fast from the surface. Odd. It had looked like cast iron but was slick like an oily glass dish. It smelled like char, but there were no black streaks to be found. He returned days later, rather nights later, and discovered that at dark, the little grotto changed.
The flowers would glow with a faint dusting of light and in the water, deep beneath the surface, streaks of gleam as vivid as sun flashed in and out of view. Like lightning flickering in a night storm. His best guess was electric eels, but how would eels have found their way into a pond? He never would see what the light was from, but he knew it had something to do with those rods. And the way they affected organic life around them. It was getting around the time he could go again, the huge fungus most likely dead. He'd have to take her.
Dipper almost missed his turn, cutting sharp at the last moment. He couldn't help getting lost in his thoughts. Tomorrow she'd be here. Well, probably the next day early early in the morning. The weight of Grunkle Stan's shadow loomed more on his shoulder. Maybe Dipper should tell him tonight. Or tomorrow morning when he was lost in his early t.v. shows. So, Grunkle Stan I'm gonna go pick up some milk, bread, some toilet paper. Oh and Mabel. Okaywellseeyah! Dread made his stomach curdle. It'll just be like a bandaid, right? Quick in one sweep. Either he was gonna say yes or no. Or kill him.
Dipper pulled into a shady spot near the curb, shutting the car down, double locking it behind before heading in Red Thread, a small retro second hand shop. The owners moved in just a couple of years ago. Dipper was pretty sure they were warlocks, but warlocks who sold refurbished clothes at dimes on the dollar. He pushed the door, making sure they were open beforehand. An awash of almond biscotti wafted to him. A little bell jingled behind him when the door closed.
He made his way to a a pop up sign reading Sweaters That Hug. That sounded right up Mabel's alley.
He sifted through corded sleeves and plunging necklines, button ups and pull overs. He spotted a red one with orange daisies stitched lovingly along the hems. A lacey ruffle trim decorated the bottom. It was a large but Mabel would probably like that. He laid it across his arm for keeps.
Dipper heard loud footsteps from behind the counter, a man coughed into his fist. "Oh hello. Havin a half off sale. Yanno? Buy four for two." The enormous shop-keep, most surely a warlock, grinned, holding up four meaty fingers. He has probably never had a security scare in his entire life. "Oy, an all these aromatics and cremes half off, too. Me and the wife pound all the ingredients with our fists." To which he brandished shamelessly.
I do not doubt that. "Oh okay. I'm only here for a thing or two." Dipper replied, turning his attention back to the racks of clothes.
"Suit yourself then." Such a merry voice he had, bustling again to the back room, returning now and then with arm fulls of merchandise to shelve.
"Just one more..." Dipper told himself, scratching his stubbled chin in thought, having a hard time choosing between so many. "Ah jeez, she'd like all of these." He grabbed two more, throwing them over his shoulder. He gnawed his finger tip a moment, deciding to snag a flouncy over coat that Mabel would look adorable in.
Before he made it to the counter, Dipper had amassed four sweaters, three dresses, a new coat, some boots, two shampoo sets and a tube of jasmine mint toothpaste. He sighed, laying everything out on the counter. A bit bashful over his lack of self control.
The shop-keep came up to the counter, whipping his hands across his barrel chest. Fucker had to duck and turn sideways to get in the doorway. The man snickered at Dipper's purchases. "Oh aye, only a thing or two." His mustache wiggled when he laughed. Dipper smiled at all the things.
"I got a little er...carried away." He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks heating to a fevered degree.
"Don't we all sometimes, child?" The warlock scanned everything, folding it neatly into a plump gift-box, a little ribbon on top. "Box is on the house," He added. Dipper pulled out his wallet, folding it open.
"Thanks. So what do I owe you?" 200 easy.
"Oy...we'll say about...130, even." Dipper's jaw slacked a bit.
"Oh, w-well alright then. Haha! Here you go. You can keep the gum wrapper." The shop-keep printed out his receipt, stuffing the cash into the register.
"Much obliged, now take care. And act like a gentleman." Dipper hefted the gift-box up.
"Thank you sir." He made his way outside, popping the trunk with his foot and laying the box in, locking the hood tight.
Alright, well he still didn't break his budget, even after majorly over spending on Mabel's present. Well, it wasn't really over spending when it was going to such a good cause. His pretty sister's face lighting up when she looked in the closet and saw new clothes hanging there. They'd have to break in her dresses. He'd set her atop his mirrored wardrobe and take his time rolling her lovely stockings down to her ankles. Kiss her tawny legs till she shivered. Dipper scarcely stifled a groan at the thought.
Oh-ho yes, this would all be very...very worth it.