I apologize in advance for those of you who really want to see a lot of Mabel. She is a very hard character to write for and this story isn't really about her anyway. That being said, enjoy this Mabel chapter. Sailor phoenix black came up with the name I used for our ginger haired boy. It just fit too well. Sorry for any of you whose ideas never make it into the story for one reason or another, I'm just getting so many wonderful ones that it's literally impossible to put them all in because they can contradict each other.
The doorbell rang which sent Mabel into a panic as she was still trying to decide what sweater to wear.
"Dipper! Will you answer the door?" From her place at the top of the steps, she could see Dipper begrudgingly open the door. There stood Mabel's date, dressed in his usually simple all black outfit. It wasn't like he was Goth, just liked simple clothes, on him anyway.
"Hey, I'm Brendan Calico," he held out a hand. Dipper glared at if for the moment before taking it and squeezing a little too hard. Mabel knew what he was doing. It was the intimidating brother act.
"Dipper Pines," Dipper said. Mabel had hoped he would be a little nicer, but he'd been in a foul mood for a while now.
"Ah, so you're Mabel's twin. She's told me a lot about you." He smiled in an attempt to break through Dipper's scowl.
"She's told me a lot about you too." Mabel was surprised. Sure she had talked a lot about Brendan, but she didn't think Dipper was actually listening. He'd become rather moody and brooding.
Mabel decided to break up the potently dangerous encounter and bounded down the stairs. She'd chosen her dark blue sweater with an umbrella, it was good luck charm to keep rain away.
"Hey Bren!" she greeted cheerily before promptly tripping down last few steps. Brendan caught her before she fell on her face. She blushed a bright red while straightening her sweater.
"Thanks," she said, smiling up at him.
"No problem," he smiled back. Dipper was standing there awkwardly, arm's crossed.
"Uh, Stan! I'm going out!" Mabel called into the shack not really sure where her grunkle was at the moment.
"Fine, but don't go getting yourself into trouble," he called from somewhere. Mabel hugged her brother and before he had a chance to react negatively she shoved Brendan out the door and slammed it.
"Uh, your family seems, nice," Brendan said awkwardly. Mabel sighed.
"It's not your fault," she reassured. "Dip Dip is distraught. His boyfriend is in a coma."
Brendan mouthed the word, 'Oh.' He offered his hand to her. She noted that his fingers were covered in graphite and charcoal. She placed her smaller hand in his, her marker stained fingers interlacing with his.
His car smelled like a mix of pine tree air fresheners, gym socks, and oil. It wasn't the best smell, but it wasn't too awful either. There was a bunch of sketch pads and pencils tossed in the back seat.
They were driving to the next town over, Gravity Falls' Movie Theater wasn't the prettiest place in the world, and all the restaurants were either run down or held bad memories. Mabel talked the whole way, telling Brendan about Dipper, and Waddles, about her home in California and the adventures she'd had. He was an excellent listener, asking questions at all the right moments.
By the time they reached the restaurant, Macaroni Grill, Mabel had been through pretty much her whole life story so she insisted Brendan talk.
"Where do I start?" he asked as they sat down.
"Favorite color," Mabel quizzed.
"Uh, black? I don't really have a favorite," he admitted.
"How can you not have a favorite color?"
"Uh, well…" he avoided eye contact for a moment while bushing.
"What is it?" she asked prying.
"I'm color blind," he admitted unable to keep from grinning.
"Why didn't you tell me that before?" she asked genuinely curious.
"After I tell people they tend to not stop bugging me about it. 'What's this color?' 'What color is this?' It gets old really fast."
"Well I will promise not to do that," she said crossing her heart. "What got you into drawing?" Their conversation was interrupted while a waiter took their drink order. Mabel got a lemonade while Brendan asked for a root beer.
"Uh you asked about drawing right?" he asked taking back the conversation. Mabel nodded.
"I've always liked drawing, but I didn't really start to get good until I started high school…" Their conversation wandered all over the place, to the amusement parks they'd been too, to the pet's they'd had.
Their food came and went, and still they talked. They drove to the movie, and talked about what they thought the lives of the people in the cars around them were like. As they waited for the movie to start they talked about music and what they liked to listen to. It had been the perfect night and Mabel couldn't remember the last time she had been this happy.
The movie had been awesome. They walked out of the theater together, Mabel grinning ear to ear while Brendan tried to adjust to the light outside the theater. They made it outside and to the car before it happened. Mabel noticed that Brendan's breath had quickened. He leaned on the car, he was shaking.
"Bren, what's wrong?" Mabel asked worried. He slid down until he was sitting, knees pulled to his chest, unable to control his breathing. Mabel didn't understand what was happening, she knelt down next to him and took his hand, it was shaking.
"I'm having a panic attack," he said breathless.
"Is there anything I can do?" she asked gently. He shook his head no. After swallowing hard he said, "You're doing the right thing." He squeezed her hand letting her know she was doing all she could.
After a few minutes, his breathing slowed, and he regained some semblance of composure.
"I'm okay now," he said shakily. "That just happens sometimes." The two stood up. Brendan still looked horrible shaken. Mabel wrapped him in the warmest hug she could muster. He hugged her back and they just stayed like that for a while, sharing warmth and calming energy.
Many miles away, in a quite hospital room, Dipper was sitting on the floor, holding his legs against his chest, his breathing was erratic. He had no idea what was happening. It felt like a truck was sitting on his chest. He felt like he needed to run, run and never stop, but at the same time he was light headed and dizzy. He was terrified, more terrified then he had ever been. More so than the time he'd been tied up and branded, more so than the time the world almost ended. More so than any time he could remember. It felt like he was dying, and there was no one to comfort him.
Sorry for the less than happy ending to this chapter. I was listening to some kind of dark music at the time, and feeling kind of sad. For those of you who don't know, this is really what a panic attack is like, the more extreme ones anyway, I've had many. The best thing you can do for someone having one is just be there with them. Be by their side until it is over and make sure they are okay. Really strong panic attacks are really exhausting experiences.