There was electricity in the air, literally. Hidden deep beneath the Mystery Shack gears creaked to a stop only to speed up an instant later as sparks danced in the air. Stan, for his part, sat in the observation room watching the chaos unfold as the machine struggled to accommodate his latest batch of coordinates.
"Come on, come on you can do this baby I just need you to work once just once and I can fix everything."
The archaic device stuttered as the portal fired a stray bolt into a bundle of cables hanging loosely in the corner of the room frying them instantly. The machine gave one last gasp before the power went out and it shut down completely.
*sigh* "God damn it." he said pinching the bridge of his nose as he entered the portal chamber. Another incorrect sequence, another failure.
Stan stared at the blackened, burnt wiring that cracked and fizzled at his feet with blood shot eyes. He couldn't keep pulling these all-nighters. But he was close, he knew it he could feel it in his bones. One of these days he was going to punch in the right sequence and the portal would open up revealing the correct destination. It was only a matter of time. Fate, however, seemed to have other plans.
It had been one year since he had finally gotten his hands on all three journals from his nephew and punched in the correct sequence that activated the portal, but since then it had been a myriad of failures. The hardest part was supplying the machine with power while still keeping things on the down low. It seemed that violating the laws of time and space was an expensive venture, to wit, Stan was going to have to go into town and see if he couldn't find a suitable replacement for the destroyed cables something that would hurt his wallet…A Lot.
"Well, this sucks."
000
The digital clock resting atop the TV flashed 10 A.M. in bright red numbers as its alarm went off Telling Dipper it was time to get up. It was Friday morning and the pale grey light trickling in from the living room window was doing little to raise his spirits. Two days since the cave in at the mines and he could still feel the ground shaking beneath him, still hear the walls cracking and heaving, the splintering of bone and the bloodied mess that had been Waddles. It was all his fault, ALL HIS and no one could tell him otherwise. Why couldn't I have just left when Mabel asked me to? A question he'd asked himself a million times over.
Getting up from the couch Dipper tried to stretch for a few minutes to get the soreness out of his back, sleeping on the dilapidated couch in the family room for the past two nights had been an unpleasant experience. He could hear things at night, things that came from beneath the floorboards. But, Mabel needed her space right now and he was willing to give it to her.
He still remembered trudging through the forest the night of, both twins battered and bruised with Mabel keeping her distance as she marched behind Dipper. He told himself that he had imagined her crying, that she would remain tough and that everything would be alright in a few days, every sob was the wind rustling through the trees every cry or moan was an animal too far off to care about. God I'm such a bad liar Dipper finally relented.
Neither twin had spoken a word to the other since then; Dipper hadn't even seen his sister come down from their room in the attic. This was bad, worse than the time she had gotten glue stuck in her hair and had to cut it short, worse than the time she had her jaw wired shut and had to drink meals through a straw. Dipper didn't know how or even if he could fix this. At least there was Tambry's party to look forward to, but then again maybe not. A self-inflicted, mandatory grounding from all fun and excitement seemed more appropriate given the circumstances.
Walking into the kitchen Dipper grabbed a carton of OJ from the fridge. "Arrgh, where does Stan keep the glasses again?"
"It's behind you, third cupboard on the left." Dipper jumped spilling orange juice on the floor. He hadn't heard Mabel enter the kitchen.
"Um…hey Mabel how are you doing today? Don't suppose you couldn't point me in the direction of the paper towels could you? Ha-ha you know, because…because of the mess?"
Nothing but silence and a wide eyed stare in response.
"Look Mabel I'm glad we can talk now. I just want you to know I am so sorry for what happened in the mines. You told me not to take a piece of that thing and I should have listened to you. What happened with Waddles…what happened with Waddles was all my fault."
More silence, her wide-eyed deer caught in the headlights stare had become a glare that bore into him. Shifting around uncomfortably Dipper decided it was best to press forward with his self-destructive apology.
"Mabel, please. I am so, so sorry I just…I know I can't make it up to you but just say something, anything. Tell me what a goober I am, punch me, yell and scream I don't care. Just say something."
Noiselessly she turned and walked away confirming his worst fears: Mabel blamed him unconditionally for what happened and there was no fixing it.
Two years ago Dipper had been shoved into his locker by Brad Killings and spent the whole day crammed between his ill-fitting jacket and Dr. Klutz's Math and You: an Unfriendly Relationship. The next day when Brad tried to take Dipper's lunch for "second helpings" an enraged Mabel knocked him over and forced French fries down his throat while screaming about what a jerk he was. All three of them nearly got expelled. It ended with Bradly being grounded and Mabel having to see the student councilor every Tuesday. Not once did she ever write Brad the mandatory apology the school had ordered her to write. She may not always understand him or share his enthusiasm for the paranormal, but she was his best and only friend. Somehow he screwed that up; somehow he'd manage to dive away the one person he cared about, the one person who cared about him.
"Jesus Dipper you really fucked up this time" he muttered under his breath to an empty kitchen.
Aimlessly stumbling through the museum of oddities he walked past Stan's collection of junk that was the biggest tourist trap in the west: The six-pack-a-lope, the were-man-fish, the donations bucket. *sigh* "How the hell am I going to fix this?" *oomph*
"Whoa there kiddo you gotta watch where you're going. I mean I know your great uncle looks invincible but I'm not, especially at this age."
Dipper was too stunned to respond. He hadn't even seen gruncle Stan standing there when he walked into him. Still it made sense he'd be there, it was his house after all.
"Eh, anyways kido I'm heading into town. Need to pick up some things and I probably won't be back till late.
Dipper could barely process what was going on, still lost in the fog of Mabel's departure. "Hm? Oh yeah that's great gruncle Stan, go knock'em dead or whatever."
"Huh thought you'd be asking more questions than that kid. Anyways see you later, dinner is in the fridge. Oh, and one more thing."
Stan hunched over as low as his rickety back would let him pulling Dipper close for good measure. "Listen kid I don't know what's gotten into Mabel but she seems a little…I don't know, different lately (by that he meant she'd been up in her room for the past 2 days) I don't know if you two are fighting or whatever but maybe go upstairs and talk to her. I mean don't get me wrong I hate having my exhibits covered in glitter and bedazzled but she is starting to bring even me down."
And just like that Dipper found himself alone in the Mystery Shack. Upon reflection he wasn't sure why he did it, what exactly compelled him to go upstairs or why he thought it would be a good idea and yet despite his better judgment screaming at him to let things be for now he found himself at the top of the stairs just before the attic bedroom.
Tentatively he opened the door inching his way into the room little by little as if entering a tiger's cage. Was the bedroom door always this squeaky?
"Uh Mabel? Look about the other day I just wanted to-"
*smash*
Dipper ducked out of the way just in time to avoid the bejeweled picture frame tossed at his head. Before attempting contact again he took note of the picture within the frame, one of the twins and gruncle Stan from last summer's fishing trip. His face had been cut out of the picture with Mabel's decorative framing scissors. Oh man I didn't just screw this up; I REALLY screwed this one up he thought.
Picking up them shattered frame Dipper stared at the picture. "Aw Mabel this was a good one. Look I know you are a little upset but maybe-"
"A little upset Dipper!? A little upset!?"
Her eyes were still swollen from crying and her hair fell away in matted clumps from lack of care, add a beat red scowl and Dipper was terrified his sister might be revealing some hidden demonic side.
"If you had just done what I had asked Dipper, if you just listened to me for once in your life instead of having your head stuck up your own ass then none of this would've happened. I wouldn't've been almost killed for the one millionth time in Gravity Falls and Waddles would still be here!"
Dipper's mouth hung agape too stunned to respond, Mabel never swore, NEVER. She'd sworn she'd never swear and yet Dipper had managed to do the one thing that made her break her promise.
"Look Mabel you know I'm sorry, I really am, I just don't know how many more times I can say it I mean I wasn't even in control of me. It was like I was possessed or something." Dipper was practically on his knees at this point.
"I know Dipper, I know that's what you keep telling me but do you know what your real problem is? You're too smart and so everyone else is just too dumb to have an opinion. No matter what you always have to be right and…and…and we were just supposed to go to the caves, find the crystal thingy and…I don't know leave when I asked you to not because I was afraid something was going to happen but because I asked you to. But I guess I'm just another person without an opinion huh?"
Dipper couldn't speak; his throat had seized up half way through Mabel's speech. He felt so stupid, of course she was mad about Waddles but he had pushed her aside like he pushed everyone else aside when it had mattered most. Dipper had been right all along, he had screwed this up too bad to fix. This was a wound that would take time to heal if at all it ever did.
"I'm…I'm sorry." He finished lamely before backing out of the room. He couldn't even look his sister in the eyes as he left.
Dipper walked downstairs and fell back onto the couch. How long he stayed there staring at his reflection in the TV screen he didn't know. Minutes? Hours? It didn't matter. When he sat back up his stomach growled at him for food and yet, eating was the last thing on his mind.
"arrrrrgggghhhhh, I can't take it anymore! I've got to get out of here!"
The house had become too cramped; everything reminded him of her, of his failure as a brother. Like a bolt from the blue a thought flashed in his mind.
"Tambry's party…Wendy."
Mabel was going to hold her grudge for a long time. What else was there to do but cut loose while she took her time getting over it?
"Nothing, that's what."
