Ain't No Cure for the Cervitaur Blues
A Gravity Falls Fanfic
by Krista Perry
I own nothing.
Chapter Ten
In Which Dipper Tries to Adjust, the Pines Parents Try Not to Freak Out, Ford Has Maybe 12% of a Plan, and Dipper and Mabel Try To Save the Day
Dipper ran, and the night forest filled him with every breath he took; sounds and scents and sights seeming to seep into his very skin until it was almost hard to tell where he ended and the forest began. Before tonight - this night that had changed everything - he would have long since stumbled to a stop, panting, sweating, doubled over with a stitch in his side, even though he had only been running a few minutes at most. Now he felt like he could run forever. Now, in this strange new body, he felt so light that his hooves barely felt the impact each time he touched ground. It was amazing, and, the longer he ran… a little terrifying as well.
Maybe more than a little.
When Mother had re-made him, he had done everything he could to hang on to his memories, to his humanity. And, much to his great relief, he had kept them both.
But there was something new and completely alien within him. Something so vast and deep and strange that it felt like it dwarfed the part of himself that he had saved – the only part he recognized as himself.
He was determined to not examine that huge, strange something too closely. In fact, he made up his mind to ignore it completely, if he could.
Some things, however, were impossible to ignore. He couldn't just pretend that he wasn't a deer from the waist down. He wasn't very happy that he hadn't been able to completely escape the whole fawn thing he'd been dealing with most of the day – and would now have to deal with for the rest of his life - but, as he thought about the journals, he knew it could have been a lot worse. At least his mind was intact. At least the upper part of him was recognizable as his old self.
He just wished that he could take a moment and stop. Just stop and absorb everything. He wanted to have some time to get used to this new reality, because everything had happened so fast. It was still happening too fast. Less than ten hours ago, he had been a somewhat normal, awkward kid on the cusp of becoming a full-fledged teenager, and now… now he wasn't even human. He had died and been reborn, emerging from the roots of Mother's tree as this strange deer-centaur creature. Old life gone. New life begun.
He cringed inwardly as he realized that, technically, he was less than an hour old. But no, he told himself - regardless of how old (or young) this new body was, he still had nearly thirteen years of memories and experiences in his head. That had to count more than physical age, right?
And now he ran, following the dryad Alejandra's scent back to Gravity Falls because Bill had taken over Gideon's vampire body and was somehow enslaving the town, trying to get at the rift in the Shack so he could start his apocalypse, and he and Mabel needed to stop him somehow.
Mabel clung to him tightly, her arms wrapped around his torso, her forehead resting between his shoulder blades, her knees pressed tightly against his flanks. He wondered why she had ducked her face against him. He thought for sure she would be enjoying the ride with a lot more vocal enthusiasm.
He was just about to ask her if she was okay when the wind changed, and the smell of blood and… something far worse filled his head.
A few bounds forward, and he was right in the midst of the source of the terrible stench. There was a large pool of congealing blood on the ground. A little farther away, at the base of a large tree, a smaller pool of blood.
And then there was a thicket of dead, grey trees, all the life drained away by something decidedly unnatural. He could feel the strange residual power of whatever it was prickle against his skin.
Alarmed at this discovery, he skidded to an abrupt halt, and Mabel slammed into his back with an "oof!"
She slid ungracefully off his back to the ground with a watery moan. "Unhhh," she said. "Now I know why extreme roller coaster rides aren't longer than three minutes.
Dipper glanced at her, then frowned in concern as he realized that she looked a little green. "Are you okay?" he asked. Mabel usually had a cast-iron stomach when it came to bumpy rides.
"Yeah," she said, rubbing her face with both hands, before looking up at him. "I'm just a little—whoa!" She flinched back when she saw his face.
"What?" he asked, as her eyes grew wide and incredulous. He expected her to react to the blood like that, not him. "What's wrong?"
Mabel got to her feet and stepped toward him, peering at his face. He took a self-conscious step back, leaning away as she got closer.
"Wow," she said. "Your eyes are all deer-y. Like, no whites at all, and your pupil's kinda…" She made a horizontal slashing motion with her hand. She squinted at him. "And I think you might be a little furrier, too."
Shocked, Dipper reached up and touched his face, closing his eyes and prodding his eyelids carefully with his fingers. His eyes felt…
…Well, actually, they felt a little larger than he remembered, and he was pretty sure his eye lashes hadn't been that long either. "What the heck," he muttered.
"Don't close your eyes, silly," Mabel said. "I want to see. They look kind of cool."
Cool? Mabel pretty much never used that word to describe him. He looked up, opening his eyes hesitantly, only to see the excited look on her face crumple. "Aw," she said. "They're back to normal."
"Normal?" Dipper felt dizzy, and he wasn't sure he could blame it completely on the blood smell. He was getting the distinct impression that the word normal no longer applied to him in any way.
"Look," she said, pointing at his left shoulder. "Your extra fur is going away too!"
Dipper looked at his shoulder to see a layer of fine reddish fur, spotted with white, on his shoulder and upper arm, receding into his skin. He felt his stomach clench in dismay. "I… what?" He rubbed both his arms, feeling the fur vanish into smooth, hairless skin. "What's going on?" He looked at Mabel, only to flinch back as she reached a hand toward his face. "Hey, what are you doing?"
"I want to touch your nose," she said, as if he'd asked a ridiculous question.
Dipper clapped both of his hands over his nose. "No, Mabel, you're not—" He broke off and his breath caught in his throat as his right palm brushed the end of his nose. He turned away from Mabel's outstretched hand, and ran his fingertips down his nose. Normal… human… until the very tip where it became bumpy and moist. That strange, bumpy wet skin covered the bottom tip of his nose and surrounded his nostrils.
He moved his hands away and, staring cross-eyed down his nose, he could just barely see a smudge of black at the very end.
He slumped and groaned aloud. You've got to be kidding me, he thought. For years, he'd been so self-conscious about his birthmark that he'd covered it with his hair and a cap. This, he realized, was about a billion times worse.
Mabel had told him that, from the waist up, he looked like his old self. Well, he was pretty sure his old self didn't have over-large eyes and a pebbly black deer nose. He didn't even want to think about how absurd he probably looked with antlers and long, furry ears on top of that!
In his peripheral vision, he saw Mabel's hand approach again, and he smacked it away, feeling a little betrayed. "Knock it off," he said, turning away, wanting to hide his freakish face. "This isn't funny!"
"I didn't say it was funny," Mabel said, her voice hurt and angry. "I was just curious!" She wrapped her arms around her chest and shivered, in spite of her sweater. "Why did you stop, anyway?" she added sulkily. "Shouldn't we be getting back to the Shack so we can stop Bill?"
Dipper wanted to respond, but his mind was whirling. His chest felt too tight, and his breath was starting to come in short, quick gasps. Was this weird nose thing permanent? Why had his eyes changed? Why had he grown fur on the part of him that was supposed to be human? And why had it gone away again? He'd only been in this body for less than an hour, and already it was changing the rules on him!
Mabel's gaze softened as she looked at him. "Oh, hey, Dipper," she said, her voice contrite as she came up to him and put her hand on his back. "Come on, breathe, bro."
Breathe. Right. He was shaking, and he didn't know whether to be relieved or upset that his anxiety had carried over into this new, apparently fickle form. But he let Mabel help him like she sometimes did when it got really bad. She rubbed small circles on his back and counted softly while he struggled to keep rhythm as he sucked in air, held it, then released – a task made only more difficult by the choking stench of blood and death that surrounded them. But he focused on Mabel's voice, and breathed until the knot of anxiety in his chest loosened slightly.
"Better?" she asked.
He nodded and released a long, shaky breath. "I'm sorry I snapped at you," he said. "It's just… all of this." He gestured at himself. "I mean, I get that I chose this over, you know, dying, and I'm trying to deal with it, but…"
…but I'm not doing very well, and this is just the beginning. How am I going to live like this?
"I'm sorry too," Mabel said, biting her lip. "I didn't mean to make it worse for you." She sighed. "I mean, here I am just thinking that you look cool, and you're super fast, and maybe even kind of magical, and best of all, you're not dead… but I guess it's not so awesome from where you're standing, huh?"
Dipper nervously rubbed his elbow. "Yeah, not so much," he muttered. "I want to think about this and get used to it, but… when I do, I just feel overwhelmed." So much for school. So much for going to college. So much for getting a career in televised paranormal investigations. So much for ever getting a girlfriend. So much for going back home to Mom and Dad. So much for…
"Hey." He looked up as Mabel gave him a gentle nudge to his shoulder. "So, all this is new and strange and scary. I get that. I may not know exactly what you're going through, but… I've got your back, broseph. Just like you've had mine all summer long." She nudged him again and smiled. "Okay?"
He attempted a smile, but it felt a little broken. "Okay," he whispered.
Mabel beamed, and Dipper warmed inside, feeling that knot of anxiety loosen a little more. This was why he'd chosen to stay and live, regardless of his freakish new form. No matter what anyone else thought, Mabel didn't care what he looked like as long as they stuck together. Which was good, because he didn't think he'd be able to deal with any of this without her.
"So," she said, "is that why you stopped?" She bounced a little on the balls of her feet. "Are you ready to head out again?"
He tilted his head at her quizzically. "Uh, no," he said, and only then realized that maybe Mabel couldn't see in the dark as well as he could. But surely she could smell it, because the stench was nearly overpowering. "I stopped because there's blood everywhere," he said, gesturing at the ground. "And… then there's that." He pointed at the dead thicket – the source of the scent that was worse than the blood. It was more than just a scent. It was a miasma of death and decay that clung to the crumbling branches and lingered on the ground in a trail of corruption that lead to the largest pool of blood, still wet and congealing. Just looking at it made his skin crawl and his fur bristle.
Mabel squinted at the ground, then gasped, and Dipper saw her turn pale as she stumbled back a few steps. He reached after her, grasping at her arm to steady her. "Mabel! Are you okay?"
She reached up and held one hand against her neck, even as she shook her head. "This is…" She trailed off, then swallowed convulsively. "I didn't even realize… This is where Gideon attacked us."
Dipper blinked.
"What?"
Aaron, hands at ten and two on the steering wheel, eyes on the road, had just turned off Oakland Avenue and was pulling onto I-580 Northbound when Amy, in the passenger seat next to him, groaned loudly. On her lap was the shoebox in which she'd been keeping Mabel's letters home, and she was trying to go through them chronologically from the beginning of summer, reading them by the light of her phone flashlight.
"I can't do this," she said, and Aaron knew that the calm of her voice was just a thin façade over a growing panic. "It was one thing to read these letters when I thought she was just being creative, making things up, having a laugh…"
"I know, hon," Aaron said, glancing at her from the corner of his eye before checking the speedometer. He pressed his foot to the floor and in seconds sped up to 79 in a 65mph zone. He planned on going faster once they had left the city limits, and he really hoped that the Waze app on his iPhone warned him of any speed traps in time for him to slow down, because the last thing they needed when they were in such a hurry was to get pulled over for a speeding ticket.
"But listen to this!" Amy held up a letter written in purple glitter pen on pink paper. "'Then we found out that the wax statues murdered Wax Stan, so they tried to kill us, but we managed to melt them before they could. Except for Wax Sherlock Holmes, and he chased Dipper on to the roof of the Shack and dueled with him until the sun rose and melted him. So now all the wax figures are gone, except for the head of some guy named Larry King who lives in the vents now.'"
She put the letter down and exhaled sharply, then covered her eyes with one hand. "Do you blame me? For thinking she was making it up?"
"Of course not," Aaron said. He took a sip of his coffee before returning it to the cup holder. "With the lack of any empirical evidence, it was the only logical conclusion."
"And this one." Amy brandished a pastel blue letter written in gold ink, adorned with stickers. "Here Mabel says that this kid named Gideon had a magical amulet that gave him telekinesis, and that he almost killed Dipper with a pair of shears!"
"Amy," Aaron said, trying for a soothing voice, hoping to calm her down, but she was on a roll.
"And how about this, where the kids went with a bunch of delinquent teenagers to break into an abandoned convenience store that turned out to be haunted? Mabel was possessed by ghosts, Aaron! Possessed!"
"Yes," said Aaron. "I remember that one. Didn't Dipper save her by doing the Lamby-Lamby dance?"
That brought Amy up short, and she turned to stare at him.
He glanced at her, smiling ruefully, before looking back at the stretch of freeway before them. "Poor Dipper," he said. "He must have been mortified. Twelve years old and dancing around in that ridiculous lamb costume…"
"It wasn't ridiculous," Amy said, slightly defensive, but Aaron could hear the little smile in her voice.
"Sure, when he was six. But now?"
There was a pause, and then Amy laughed, a low chuckle. "Well, that just shows you how far Dipper is willing to go for Mabel's sake," she said, then sighed, long and loud. "I can't believe this. I am a terrible mother."
"Why?" Aaron asked. "Because of something you couldn't possibly know of, or even imagine? What do you think either of us could have done to prevent any of this?"
"I could have not let them go," she said, without heat. "I could have kept them home for the summer and smothered them with over-protectiveness. I can be over-protective, you know. Mom taught me well."
"Your mom drove you crazy, and you couldn't wait to graduate high school and move away from her," Aaron pointed out.
She tilted her head. "True."
Aaron took another sip of coffee. "So, let's tackle this one step at a time."
Amy snorted, and set the letters back in the box. "Okay. I suppose we do need a plan, now that we're actually on the road and headed into the heart of darkness. I'm guessing one of the steps is to stop freaking out over Mabel's letters."
"Yeah," Aaron said. "If we spend the whole drive flagellating ourselves over how we didn't know that Gravity Falls is apparently Supernatural Central, it's going to be a long trip." He sat in silence for a moment, picking apart what he knew of Mabel's letters, and what he remembered from his own childhood trip to visit Uncle Stanford.
Who was actually Uncle Stanley. Who wasn't dead.
He had never met Uncle Stanford, he realized. Just Uncle Stanley pretending to be Stanford while he repaired an interdimensional portal in the basement to get Stanford back. And he had succeeded.
He wondered if Grandma Pines knew about this.
He remembered the gnomes (who apparently tried to kidnap Mabel to be their bride, what the hell). And he did see Bigfoot.
You saw a whole lot more than you remember! Next time you're in town, ask about the Society of the Blind Eye!
The demon's words echoed in his head, and left him far more unsettled than he wanted to admit. He wondered if, somewhere in the hidden rooms of the Gravity Falls museum, there was a memory tube with his name on it.
And if there was, did he even want to know what was on it?
Yes. Yes, he did. He wanted to know if his experiences compared to Mabel's and Dipper's. Had he done anything close to some of the crazy things his kids had done during the summer?
"So…" he continued. "Mabel didn't make up those stories. And yes, the kids were often in danger."
"Mortal danger," Amy said.
"Mortal danger. But," he said, briefly releasing the steering to point an emphasizing finger, "the kids didn't die. And why not? Because they are strong, and brave, and clever, and resourceful."
"And lucky."
"That too." Aaron sighed. "The point is, we need to go through Mabel's letters, but instead of focusing on how their lives were in jeopardy, we need to focus on how they resolved the situations. How they triumphed. And instead of worrying ourselves to death, we need to spend our time having faith that Mabel and Dipper will know what to do with a demon on the loose."
Amy closed her eyes and swallowed. "I… I know. I want to believe in them, Aaron. I do. But there's over five hundred miles and eight hours between us and them. So much can happen in that time, and I can't help it. I can't help but be afraid for them."
Aaron understood her fear. He could try to ignore it, but it was there, festering in the pit of his gut. The absolute need to save his children, and the dread that he would be too late.
Should he survive the night, the woman in his dream had said of Dipper. Should he survive the night.
Those words came abruptly to the forefront of his mind, and his confidence faltered.
It must have shown on his face, because Amy reached over and rested her hand on his leg. A gesture of comfort, and seeking comfort. He took one hand off the wheel and took her hand in his.
"They've beaten this thing twice before," he said, trying to convince himself as much as Amy. "They can do it again."
"And if they don't?" Amy whispered.
Aaron opened his mouth, but couldn't think of anything to say. He couldn't think about if they don't. Not now. Not yet.
"Let's…" He cleared his throat as his voice caught. "Let's have faith in the kids for now. Okay?"
Amy squeezed his hand, then let go.
"Okay," she said.
Mabel couldn't remember a time when she had seen Dipper quite so angry. Maybe it was because of his new body, because not only were his eyes narrowed in fury and his fists clenched at his sides, but his ears were laid back, he was stamping his forehooves, and huffing in agitation.
"I'll kill him," Dipper said, and he might have sounded threatening if his voice hadn't cracked on the word kill.
"Get in line," Mabel said, crossing her arms over her chest. "I already claimed first dibs." Grimacing, she looked around at the bloody clearing, now that the shock of finding herself back where Gideon had attacked had worn off. "I would have told you sooner, but things have kind of crazy."
Dipper looked at her sharply. "You still have that amulet I made you, right?"
"Of course." Mabel gestured to the backpack she was wearing. "The chain is broken, but there's no way I would lose something like that. It literally saved both me and Al from Gideon."
"Good," Dipper said, stamping his front hooves again. "I think we'll need it." He looked at the base of the tree where the blood from his fawn body had settled. "This is all his fault," he said, practically snarling. "Everything. The curse, killing me, this…" He gestured down at himself, a faint look of disgust bleeding into his anger. "Look at me! My life is ruined because of him!"
"Hey now," Mabel said, frowning. "None of that." She walked up to him and put her hand on his shoulder, trying to get him to calm down.
And as she did, she realized a few things. Though Dipper's human proportions seemed the same as before, he was a couple of inches taller than her now because of his long deer legs. His deer half still looked like a fawn with his reddish, spotted coat, and though he was a lot bigger than he had been as an infant fawn, he still seemed a bit gangly. Like the larger, healthy fawns she had seen in the woods as summer drew to a close. And yet, he also had antlers, like a yearling. Six points, three on each side, perfectly symmetrical, and free of velvet.
She wondered, was that normal for his species? Did Dipper even have a species? Maybe he was something completely new and unique.
Well, none of that mattered right now. What mattered was getting Dipper back on track. "Your life isn't ruined, silly," she said, encouraged when Dipper didn't shrug off her hand.
"Easy for you to say," Dipper said, his voice tight with anger.
"Yeah, I know," Mabel said, and Dipper gave her an incredulous look. She shrugged. "I'm still just so happy you're alive, I can't even begin to think about what you – what we'll be dealing with in the future."
Dipper met her gaze then, and just beyond the anger, she could see the fear and hesitation in his eyes. She smiled at him. "Because I will be with you, Dipper. Every step of the way, regardless of what happens. Okay?"
She watched as the anger slowly drained out of him. His ears drooped, and he looked away. "Okay," he said, "but… I need to tell you something."
Uh-oh. That was his This is serious, Mabel, please don't take it lightly voice. "Sure," she said. "I'm all ears, Sir Dipping-sauce."
"Not here," Dipper said, looking around. He covered his nose with one hand, and gestured at the dead, gray thicket. "It reeks of blood and death, and it's giving me a headache."
Mabel nodded. She couldn't smell it like he could, apparently, but it was still pretty gross and creepy. "You know," she said, "that clump of dead trees and bushes wasn't like that before."
"Really?" Dipper looked at it again, his brow furrowing, and his fingers twitched as if itching to hold his pen and journal. Then he huffed. "We don't have time to investigate right now," he said, confirming her suspicions. "I want to come back when this is all over, though. That's way not normal."
"Okay."
Dipper turned away from her and looked back. "Well?" he said, and though he looked grumpy, his cheeks were flushed. He looked at his deer backside, then back at her, and she realized he was telling her to get on.
She did so, with a lot less enthusiasm than she did the first time. She'd thought riding on Al's back was uncomfortable, but at least the dryad ran at a steady, even lope. Dipper bounded. After his first jump, he'd gone so high that she'd half-expected them to land with a devastating bone-breaking impact, but instead, it felt no more jarring than if he'd jumped over a small log. And though they somehow never ran into any obstacles, their speed was downright unearthly. She'd had to close her eyes and bury her head against his back, using his torso as a shield, because his leaps took them so far and so fast, the wind bit at her so hard she almost couldn't breathe.
Dipper noticed her hesitation as she climbed on, of course. His grumpy expression faded. "You okay?" he asked.
"Psssh, yeah, of course," she said, wrapping her arms around his chest. "The wind is a bit much, but if I stay ducked behind you, it doesn't bother me."
"Wind?" He sounded genuinely puzzled.
"Don't worry about it," she said. "Just go."
He gave her an uncertain look before starting a gentle trot. After a moment, he broke into a run, and then the bounding began. The zero-g sensation she felt at the top of each arc was fun at first, but after about five minutes, it started getting old, and her stomach started to protest. Not to the point of puking, but still. Not pleasant.
"Mabel?" Dipper said, and it was only when she heard his voice that she realized that the wind wasn't roaring in her ears and buffeting her like a tattered flag the way it had before.
What the hey-hey?
She lifted her head tentatively. There was still wind, but now, even though they were obviously going as fast as they had previously, it was a gentle breeze.
"Whoa," she said, amazed. "Are you doing that?"
Dipper cast a quick glance at her over his shoulder. "Doing what?"
But she was speechless, because now she could see why they weren't running into any obstacles. The forest was literally parting for them. Trees, shrubs, brambles… they all moved to make way for Dipper. She looked behind them, and watched as they returned to their previous position. "Uh…" she said. "That."
She felt Dipper heave a sigh under her embrace. "You're going to have to be more specific," he said, "because I don't—"
"Oh my gosh," Mabel exclaimed. "You can't be that oblivious!"
"Hey!"
"The forest, doofus!" she said, exasperated. "It's moving out of the way to let you through! And before we hit the Gideon Attack Spot, the wind was so hard that it hurt. Now, though, the it's so soft I can barely feel it, and that only happened after I mentioned it to you."
Dipper stopped bounding. And this time, when he stopped, she didn't slam into his back.
She slid off, wiggling her legs since they felt a little noodle-y from the ride. Dipper turned to her, rubbing one arm in a typical tell of anxiety, and she felt struck by the open look of fear on his face.
"It…" He swallowed. "It's not me. I'm not doing it."
She tilted her head at him. "Okay, then who, or what, is?"
His gaze grew unfocused. "I don't know."
Mabel sighed. Denial. "Look, bro-bro, there's no one else it could be. Why else would the wind be turned down just because I didn't like it? And look at where we are." She pointed. "I recognize that mountain shape, and it took Al about an hour to get from here to GAS."
Dipper blinked at her. "Gas?"
"Gideon Attack Spot," she said, and Dipper just snorted and looked away. He never did appreciate her acronyms. "Look, the point is, it took you, what, maybe ten minutes, if that, to go the same distance? We've come so far in such a short time, and it's because you're about a billion times faster than a real deer. You're probably doing it all subconsciously or something."
She was trying to be comforting, but if anything, Dipper looked even more horrified. "No," he said, and his voice shook. "I would know, I couldn't…"
"Couldn't what?" she said. "Break a few science rules without even thinking about it?" She sidled up to him and nudged him with her shoulder, trying to coax a smile out of him, or at least get that scared look off his face. "Come on, Dipper, it's not all that surprising you got some magic with your new body, considering who made it. And it's a whole lot cooler than making rave music with your antlers or something stupid like that."
But Dipper just put his head in his hands and groaned. "I can't believe this is happening."
Mabel heaved a frustrated sigh. "Stop being such a grumpy-grump," she said. "Look on the bright side! This is cool!"
"This is not cool, Mabel," Dipper said, looking up at her, and Mabel was startled to see a faint sheen of wetness in his eyes. "I told you I need to tell you something."
Mabel's irritation at Dipper's lack of enthusiasm over his cool powers faded under a wave of concern, and she sobered. "Okay," she said. "What is it?"
"I…" Dipper clenched his fists. "It's complicated." Mabel bristled momentarily under the implication that she was too simple to understand, but Dipper clarified, "I'm trying to figure out how to put it into words." He began to pace nervously in a tight circle, looking at the ground. She could almost hear the gears turning in his head, and stayed silent so he could think.
Finally, he stopped and turned to her. "Okay," he said, taking a steadying breath. "Remember when Mom and Dad took us to Ocean Beach to watch the sea lions on the rocks?"
She nodded.
"Right," Dipper continued. "Remember how they wouldn't let us go near the water, even though we're both really good swimmers?"
"Yeah," Mabel said, "because Ocean Beach has a killer rip tide. Literally." Every now and then the Bay Area news would tell of some tourist, or even some local surfer who knew the water, getting sucked miles out to sea and drowning before help could reach them. Sometimes the rip tide claimed more than one victim, drowning the person who went in the ocean trying to save another. Worse, the rip tide was most dangerous where the water seemed the calmest. People would wade into the water, not realizing that the undertow could knock them off their feet and sweep them away in moments.
"Okay," Dipper said. "Now, pretend that the part of me from before, the human part of me that has all my memories and experiences - the part of me that is me - is a person standing on that beach next to the water."
Mabel nodded hesitantly, understanding that Dipper was trying to make the beach into a metaphor. She imagined human Dipper standing at the edge of the surf, the water lapping at his feet.
"Well, now there's this new part of me," Dipper said. "A part that came with this new body, that wasn't any part of me before. And that's the ocean."
Mabel felt her eyes widen as a glimmer of understanding struck her.
Dipper continued. "The ocean is huge, nearly endless, we can only see a tiny part of it before it vanishes over the horizon." He looked down and pressed his hands over his stomach. "And… it's inside of me. I don't understand it. I don't know what it is. I don't know how it works. I just know that I'm standing at the edge of it, and if I get too close…" He trailed off and met her gaze, and for the first time, Mabel thought she understood the fear in his eyes.
"If you get too close," she said, "if you go too far, it will pull you under. And the you that is you… will drown in it."
Dipper nodded, a hint of relief in his expression as he saw that she understood. "Exactly."
She stepped forward and took both his hands in hers and pulled him close. "I won't let it," she said firmly, and she was surprised when tears pricked the corners of her eyes, but she ignored it. "I won't let it suck you under. I won't let you drown. I promise."
And Dipper looked at the ground, but she could see his lips trembling, his eyes blinking rapidly. It was a long moment before he looked up again, and his eyes were dry and full of gratitude. His ears lifted and turned forward.
"Mystery Twins forever?" he said.
She let out a loud, watery laugh. "Mystery Twins forever," she said, releasing his hands and holding up a fist.
The corner of his mouth turned up into a smile, and while it wasn't full-fledged, she would take it. He fist-bumped her, and their hands separated, fingers splayed as they made explosion noises.
"Okay," Dipper said, sounding a lot more like his usual self. "That… actually was a lot easier than I thought it would be."
"See?" Mabel snickered. "This is all new and strange, but together we can handle it. So, are you going to be okay, knowing that you're accidentally doing weird forest magic?"
Dipper grimaced. "I don't know if okay is the right word. But maybe now that I'm aware of what I'm doing, I can control it better?" He sounded uncertain.
"Maybe." Mabel shrugged. "But even if you can't right away, try not to get too worked up over it. I've got your back, and I won't let that rip tide get you."
Dipper's smile grew slightly. "Thanks, Mabel."
"Pshaw," Mabel said, flapping a hand at him to go with her exaggerated accent. "Twernt nothin'."
Dipper actually laughed. She cheered inwardly at the small victory.
He turned, and gestured for her to climb onto his back with only a trace of his previous self-consciousness. She grinned, and did so, once again wrapping her arms around his chest.
"Now," she said, pointing forward, "let's go stop Bill from starting his apocalypse!"
This time when Dipper bounded forward, seeming to defy all natural laws of physics, she let out a whoop of exhilaration.
Wendy didn't have to see the grim looks on Ford's and Stan's faces to know that the siege was definitely not going in their favor.
More than half the town was upstairs and outside the Shack, with a steady stream of people shuffling down the road to join them. Whatever Bill had done to them when he hypnotized them had made them ruthlessly efficient. They had already eliminated the barrier around the door to the basement, having formed a long line, passing the barrier, piece by piece, down the line until it was nothing more than a huge pile of junk piled outside the Shack. The obstacles in the stairway were next, and they were almost all gone. Soon, they would reach the inoperable elevator, but with Bill pulling their strings, she couldn't see that even that would be much of a deterrent.
To make things worse, a group of townsfolk had gathered to the side of the Shack and had dug a hole to the cement foundation, and were in the process of chiseling a hole in it. When Ford realized what was happening, he informed them of the hole that Dipper had fallen through, chasing his 38-sided die. Soos had finished patching it up a few days ago, but apparently Bill knew about it, and was exploiting that weakness.
Every single person that Wendy cared about, apart from Dipper and Mabel, were out there. Her friends, her dad, her brothers – Bill had put them all on the front lines, deliberately, no doubt. They were all crowded in the stairwell, passing portal debris up and out of the Shack.
Soos' abuelita was part of group digging through to the foundation, and Soos was nearly beside himself with fear for her. "She's going to hurt herself," he said tearfully. "She has bad knees, and her hip bothers her sometimes! She shouldn't be out there digging!"
But there was nothing any of them could do, except watch and wait helplessly. Wendy found herself caught between sickly terror, and ice-cold rage. She wanted to punch something so bad right now. Preferably Bill-possessed-Gideon, right in his smug, pudgy face.
"Wendy, come here," Stan called. Wendy pulled herself away from the monitors in the control room, and went into the portal room.
Stan and Ford had both seen better days. Ford was grimy and bloody, still wearing the shreds of his sweater and his pants torn out at the knees. Stan was leaning heavily on his shovel, sweating, panting, looking like a feather could knock him over, but still, he straightened when she walked up to them.
"Look around," Ford said, gesturing at the dirt floor. "Can you tell where we buried the rift?"
Wendy looked down, and found herself impressed. She expected to see a flattened mound of freshly turned earth giving away the rift's position. Instead, she saw that Ford and Stan had not only buried the rift, they had turned up dirt over the entire floor, effectively disguising the rift's burial spot.
"Not with my eyes," she said, "but I saw you digging the hole, and I know it's right about there." She pointed to a spot a few feet away from the elder twins.
Ford nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I see. Well, that's good, and bad."
"Why bad?" she asked.
Ford sighed. "With the situation progressing like it is, it's no longer a matter of if the townsfolk will reach us, but when. I think there is a great possibility that we will be captured and taken to Bill, and he will do whatever he can to get the location of the rift out of us."
Wendy grit her teeth at the implication, a knot forming in her gut, and Stan nodded. "It's like I told you earlier, kid," he said. "He'll use our loved-ones against us. And how long do you think you can hold out in not revealing the rift's location, when he's hurting your family and friends?"
"He won't need to threaten our loved-ones, Stanley," Ford said. "All he has to do is hypnotize any one of us, and we'll lead him right to it."
"Oh," Stan said, and then his eyes narrowed. "Wait, you mean to say that we just spent over an hour digging up the floor, for nothing? Bill can find out where the rift is just by asking, and we'll just tell him?"
"Aaargh!" Wendy sank to her knees and snarled. "This is so unfair!" she shouted, and punched the ground. It didn't hurt enough, so she punched it again. "So you're saying that, after everything we've done, Bill is still going to win?"
"Not necessarily," Ford said. "Calm down, you two. There may still be a way to buy ourselves and your friends some time."
Wendy looked up at him. "How?"
"Follow me." Ford walked toward the control room. She exchanged a skeptical look with Stan, and then they followed.
There was a small junk room just off the corridor that led to the elevator. It was littered with all sorts of half-finished experiments and weapons. Ford opened a drawer and pulled out an item that Wendy recognized instantly.
"Hey, that's a memory gun," she said, and suddenly she understood what Ford's plan was. "Wait just a sec. You want to erase the rift's location from our brains?"
Ford gave her an appraising look, as if surprised she had deduced his plan. "Exactly."
"But won't that just make Bill mad?" Wendy asked. "What's to keep Bill from hurting my family when he realizes that we can't tell him?"
Ford shook his head. "I know Bill, unfortunately. If he finds out that we are literally incapable of giving him the location of where we've hidden the rift, he'll have no reason to torture anyone to extract information. The townsfolk will be far more useful to him as thralls, because, without the exact location of the rift, he will be forced to have them tear the Shack apart piece by piece to find it."
Stan frowned. "I hate to throw a wrench in your plan, Poindexter, but so far it still ends with Bill getting his hands on the rift."
"Maybe," Ford said. "Maybe not."
"Just spit it out," Stan said irritably. "What part of this plan haven't you told us yet?"
Wendy nodded. "Yeah, so far this plan sounds like it ends with all of us as hypnotized zombies, tearing down the Shack with everyone else."
Ford sighed. "I… have a metal plate in my head." Before Wendy could even respond to that, Ford raised his fist and knocked against his skull, producing an unmistakable metallic clang.
Wendy saw Stan's jaw sag open in astonishment, and thought her expression might just mirror his exactly.
"What the hell, Sixer!" Stan said. "Why do you have a metal plate in your head?"
"I had it installed while I was in Dimension 52," Ford said, fidgeting uncomfortably under their combined stares. "It keeps Bill from having access to my mind. It also keeps this-" He held up the memory gun. "—from working on me. I couldn't erase my memories of the rift's location even if I wanted to. But if I'm right, it will also prevent Bill from being able to hypnotize me."
"How is that a good thing?" Wendy exclaimed. "Then he'll just use torture to get the rift's location out of you!"
She looked to Stan for backup, but to her surprise, he was nodding thoughtfully. "I see," he said, and he had a familiar glint in his eye that Wendy recognized all too well. "You're planning to fake it."
Ford nodded. "Precisely."
"Wait, what?" Wendy said.
Ford gave her a patient look that rankled her a little. "Bill can't put me under his power, but if I pretend that I'm as hypnotized as everyone else, this plan could work. If we buy enough time, the sun will rise, and Bill will weaken substantially. If I can somehow break his hold on the townsfolk, we could take him down."
"Huh. That's three too many ifs for my liking," Stan grumbled.
Ford shrugged helplessly. "It's the best plan I've got. I'm open to suggestions."
Stan rubbed his hands over his face, then looked at Wendy. "What do you think about this?" he asked.
Wendy didn't like it. Not at all. First, she didn't want that memory gun messing with her head. Second, this seemed like merely a delay tactic, with no guarantee of success. Third, she had no idea if Ford was a good enough actor to pull off such an act. Fourth… She couldn't think of a fourth, but there was probably another very good reason this was a really bad idea.
Still… if she had to choose between her family being tortured so she'd give up the rift's location, and the faint possibility that she could keep that from happening… if there was a chance to postpone Bill finding the rift, giving them time to figure out a way to take him down…
"I guess it's okay," she said, shrugging.
Ford smiled. "That's the spirit. Now let's put this plan into action."
Dipper slowed, then came to a stop as they reached a part of the forest that he knew like the back of his hand. They were about a mile away from the Shack, and yet… he could hear, could smell the multitude of people surrounding it.
Mable slid off his back and tumbled to the ground, laughing. "Woo!" she said, "that was amazing! I can't believe how fast you can go! It's so much more fun without the wind blasting in my face!"
"Shhh," he said, putting up a hand as he strained to listen, to smell what was up ahead. Mabel quieted and came to stand next to him. "Wow, I think… I think half the town must be at the Shack."
"What?" Mabel said. "How can you tell?"
"I can hear them," Dipper said, his brow creased. "It's weird. Nobody is saying anything. They're all just…" He tilted his head, his ears swiveling. "…kind of shuffling around, banging on things."
Mabel touched his arm, and he could feel her sudden nervousness. "Can you tell if Bill is there?"
Dipper inhaled, letting scents fill him, his new instincts sorting them easily. After a few moments, he shook his head. "I don't smell him anywhere nearby." he said. "He's definitely not at the Shack. Maybe he's still in town mesmerizing people."
"Whoa," Mabel said, eyes wide. "How do you know what Bill smells like?"
Dipper shrugged. "It's more that I know what Gideon's vampire form smells like," he said. "When you and Alejandra had me in your backpack and took me out of the Shack, I got a good whiff of him. He was hiding up in the trees."
"That's why you freaked out," Mabel said quietly. "So… he was following us that whole time."
"I guess so." Dipper clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to keep his temper from rising, but he couldn't quite keep from stomping a forehoof. He would have time to be angry later. "Get the amulet ready," he said, and Mable nodded, slipping off her backpack and pulling it from the inside of a zipper pocket.
"Got it," she said, and she showed him her fist clenched around the gold chain, the small vial amulet pinched between her thumb and forefinger.
He nodded, and gestured for her to climb back on his back. It still felt strange and unnatural to have a rider, but he was getting used to it. Only because it was Mabel, though. "Come on," he said. "I don't know how long we have before Bill gets there, but this may be our only chance. We need to save as many people as we can."
Mabel climbed back on, wrapped her arms around his chest, and he took off running, silent and swift. Before long, they were at the tree line. The whole clearing around the Shack was full of people, all looking blank and numb, but working with swift efficiency. There was a large group digging at the side of the Shack, and an even bigger group had formed a line and was emptying the Shack of, well, pretty much everything. Aside from a huge pile of portal debris, Dipper could see that the gift shop had been completely trashed, as well as the museum, if the pile of broken souvenirs and mangled attractions was any indication. As he watched, a group of men were in the process of carrying the kitchen fridge out the back door.
"Oh my gosh," Mabel whispered. "Look at all of them!"
Dipper pointed to the side of the Shack where the group of people were digging a giant hole around the foundation. "They're trying to get into the basement," he said. "That must be where Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford are holed up." Dipper looked over his shoulder at Mabel. "You ready?"
Mabel nodded, her expression resolving into what Dipper thought of as her battle face. "Let's do this," she said.
Without another word, Dipper burst out from the tree line and ran toward the group of people trying to break through the Shack's foundation. He slowed, giving Mabel time to reach out and tap people with the amulet. With each tap, he could see the familiar faces of the residents of Gravity Falls, their eyes clearing from Bill's mind control.
"You're free," Mabel said with each tap. "And you're free! And you're free! Oh my gosh, Soos' abuelita! You're free!" And so on.
"Go on," Dipper shouted, as people stood, wide awake, but looking around in shock and fear. "Run! Get away, hide! Gideon is coming back, now is your chance to escape!"
That managed to get people in motion, and soon, the ones they had released from control were scrambling to get away from the Shack. Soon, the entire group that had been attacking the foundation was making haste to leave.
Dipper turned, and was about to head to the line of people going in and out of the Shack, when suddenly Mabel shrieked, and was lifted straight up, off his back. Before he could even react, or even call her name, something slammed hard into his side and forced him to the ground.
In that moment, instinct took over.
He fought with everything he had, lashing out with his sharp hooves, thrashing his head. He knew he connected with flesh, knew he had injured someone, but his attackers didn't make a sound. There were too many strong hands pinning him down, and he felt his hind legs being bound.
"No!" he shouted, and fought with hooves and fists and antlers, but then his arms were wrenched behind his back and restrained, as his front legs were also bound. Still, he fought with all he had until someone grabbed him by the antlers and forced his head to the ground.
He lay there, cheek pressed hard against the dirt, panting, still struggling futilely against the strong arms and binds that held him, and he finally saw that his attackers were none other than Gideon's prison goons. Some of them were bleeding from cuts and gouges from his struggles. Even so, they looked as blank and brainwashed as the rest of the townsfolk.
"You bastards," he snarled. "Where's Mabel?"
Then, from the corner of his one open eye, Dipper caught a glimpse of a writhing black shadow, and before he could even wonder why he couldn't smell it, the thing spoke.
"WELL, WELL, WELL, WELL, WELL! WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE?"
A/N: So… there's that.
I haven't proof-read yet, so apologies for any typos or errors.
Very Important: A shout-out to all you wonderful people who left comments on since I posted chapter 8. I feel like a total loser for not responding to you each individually, but I hope you know I love and appreciate you all the same. ImpossibleJedi4, KuroNekoo, Jeminbee, Luthyx, Sir Thames, MaiKanon, Radio Driver, cubeGame, Sky, Blind-Eyephone, toolman19, Brenne, Purest of the Hearts, geohvod, Allotrios, gump1098, Fenrir Wylde Razgriz, Kimagurakihara, Dog Child, SmolBean, and all the lovely Guests. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. :D
So, there are two, maybe three more chapters in this fic. I hope you all are enjoying it so far. Please leave a comment if you want to make me deliriously happy. :)