Chapter 27

Loose Ends

27A: Back to the Falls

Somewhere in the Outback

Shortly after Helga and Rhonda left Gravity Falls

-FORD-

The truck lumbered along the dusty outback road. We'd come out here to investigate unusual Cryptid sightings around Ayer's Rock, specifically a desert relative of the mythical Bunyip that was said to dwell in the billabongs.

What we had encountered proved to be a lot more crafty than expected.

"I can't believe that thing stole my wallet!" complained my twin brother, Stan. Ours was a long and complicated story, told by hands more deft than I. Inseparable, in childhood, torn apart first by his jealousy, then my pride, then finally reunited in the face of Armageddon. After surviving the near-end of the world, we'd decided to live out our silver years pusruing our childhood dream of traveling the world in search of adventure.

"Are you sure you didn't leave it back at the lodge?" I asked. It was unlikely; if the was anything Stan kept a tight leash on, it was his money.

"Positive. That thing is a sneaky sonuvabitch. He's like the me of monsters. Right now he's probably running up huge charges on all my phony credit cards!"

"Look on the bright side: we discovered a new species! That means we get to name it!"

"How about the Thieving Bastard? Can we do that? Are the encyclopedias gonna complain?"

"Are you going to be complaining about this all night?"

"Eh, probably."

"We'll try to find it again in the morning. Right now, what we need is a good night's sleep."


We arrived back at the lodge. I could smell some kind of stew cooking. Probably lamb. Probably. Might be something with a pouch. I'd eaten far stranger things over the years (and far stranger things had nearly eaten me), so I wasn't going to question it.

"Doctor Pines!" Kevin, the lodge owner called. "Message for ya. Shiela name o' Wendy. Sounded right agitated, she did."

Wendy? I hadn't had a lot of interaction with her. Apparently, she was now the town's supernatural warden nights and weekends. She'd never contacted me until now; I wondered what she could have possibly encountered that would necessitate my attention. "What was the message?"

"Right odd one. It was just two words, mate… 'Code yellow.'"

Stan, still fuming about his lost wallet, suddenly snapped to attention. "No. No, that's impossible. He can't be back. We put him down for good. Right? We did, didn't we? Most of my memory's back, but that moment… that's gone. I never got it back. But I'm pretty sure it involved taking him out permanently. Maybe… maybe it's a prank, right? You know teenagers,"

"I don't want to believe it either, but Wendy wouldn't just casually send us a Code Yellow."

Code Yellow meant the return of the single most dangerous entity any of us had ever encountered.

In my travels across the Multiverse, I had encountered things beyond comprehension. I had survived an encounter with Ka'Thaari plant-dragons, who were not only powerful and fearsome on their own, but who reproduced in the most horrifying manner, through a cloud of spores that, when inhaled, would consume the host from the inside. I had tangled with disciples of the dark Elder God, V'Hoxynarva, an inconceivable presence that existed only to spread nonexistence. I had visited realms torn from the nightmares of madmen and animation producers. But nothing compared to the twisted being that had almost succeeded in throwing all of reality into a state of chaos.

And now he was seemingly back.

"Trip's on hold, Stan." I said. "We're going home."


A week later

Gravity Falls

"Hot Belgian waffles! What have you done with the place, Soos?"

The ex-handyman tugged his collar nervously. "Uh… now, be cool… I assure you, 85% of this damage is not my fault."

Stan's eyes darted around, taking in the door that had been ripped off its hinges, the shattered railing on the upper landing, the wrecked exhibits, the broken furniture, the electrical scorch marks on multiple surfaces. "Isn't this how I left the place?" he asked, confused. "I was talking about these prices. Only a 200% markup? You're bringing shame to the Mystery Shack name!" He took a deep breath. "Sorry Soos… I know, I know, it's your place now, you're running it your way… I shouldn't have flipped out, it's just… you build something, you expect it to stay the same forever… to be reminded it's not yours anymore… "

"Whoa, did he just apologize? Weird." Pacifica Northwest, who had not looked up from her phone since the two of us had arrived, now addressed us. "Hey, Stan. Hey, Hot Stan. You missed some weird stuff."

"We made a couple of new friends," Wendy explained. She had arrived shortly after we did on her motorcycle. "There was an incident with the shapeshifter getting loose, but they helped us get it back on ice. Pacifica, show 'em the picture."

Pacifica pulled out one of those oblong glass devices that passed for phones nowadays. I still found it hard to believe that such things were commonplace, but we still didn't have flying cars. After a few motions with her thumb, she brought up one of those… "self-ers?" Pacifica was standing at the extreme right of the shot, her lips puckered for some reason. Her arm was around a creature of a kind I'd never seen before… or had I? Something about her was nagging me. The violet-skinned creature, who appeared to be a young female, was smiling and flashing a peace sign to the camera with her upper-right hand. For someone of a completely unknown species, she seemed very accustomed to posing for a camera. Her two left arms were around another young, pink-skinned female of the same species, as if trying to pull her into the shot. The pink one was clearly not as fond of the camera as her purple companion; the scowl on her face suggested she was only barely tolerating being in the shot and wasn't going to be any more cooperative.

"Fascinating," I commented to no one in particular. "Has anyone else seen this?"

"I texted it to Dipper. Y'know, so he could eat his heart out that I met something weird without him."


Last week, somewhere in California

Dipper: Oh, hey, a text from Pacifica.

Mabel: Oooh, la la, ze Romeo 'as receive ze love lettair from ze… girl 'e dies tragically wees! *makes kissy noises*

Dipper: Ah, knock it off, Mabel. We're just friends…ish.

Mabel: Friends-ish who smooch-ish?

Dipper: Seriously, Mabel, it's not possible for you to be any more annoying than you are right now.

Mabel: Sure it is! (begins poking him) Poke! Poke! Poke!

Dipper: (sighs, checks text) "New friend selfie, hashtag mutantbesties, hashtag putthisinyourstupidbook… what in the world?

Dipper: (opens photo attachment)

Dipper: (eye twitch)

Dipper: (begins foaming at the mouth)

Mabel: Oh, hey, I think I follow her fashion blog.


"Their social behavior is remarkably human."

"They are human," corrected Wendy. "I mean…. In the mental sense. Something clearly happened to their bodies to make them this way, but they act pretty much like regular preteen girls."

I was intrigued. Nothing I'd ever encountered could possibly have caused mutations on this level. I would give my eye teeth to study them up close… if I hadn't already used them on a planet where teeth were currency. Little known fact: The Tooth Fairy is an alien.

But I digress.

"And what does our triangular friend have to do with this?" I asked.

"They both said they had dreams involving him. Maybe he's somehow stuck in the subconscious realm? I dunno, just throwing out some ideas here."

"He did first appear to me in my dreams… of course. As an abstract being, Bill cannot be permanently destroyed… only contained." At this point, my mind was racing. "He would be drawn to the strange, the unusual… but to what purpose…"

"Ehhh, he's in the theory zone," Stan said. "I'm gonna go see a guy about fixing a horse race."

"He wants a body," Pacifica said suddenly. "I mean, like, isn't it obvious? If I was stuck in the dreamworld, the first thing I'd want is to get the heck out of it, and when I did I'd need a body to use. And, like, if I had to pick a body… well, I'd pick me, of course, but if I had to make a second choice, a body that was really strong, had wings, and could shoot lightning from its fingers wouldn't be so bad. I mean, like… I think I could rock that look if I had to."

Wendy smirked. "You'd certainly catch Dipper's eye…"

"Wha… that's not what I meant! Why would you even think that? I don't like him like that! *pause* I don't!"

"If you say so," Wendy teased.

"I don't! All I'm saying is I'm hot enough that even a monster bod would look good on me. And the superpowers would be a nice bonus too. Bet Dorito boy's thinking along the same lines."

Wendy nodded. "He probably couldn't cause another Weirdmaggedon, but he could definitely cause his fair share of chaos."

I nodded. "Do you have a way of contacting them?"

"Rhonda… that's the purple one… gave me her phone number." Pacifica answered. "Can you believe we'd actually met before? Turns out she's from this super rich family in Hillwood. Weird, huh?"

Hillwood… Washington? That place was already on my list of places to investigate. Besides the high number of urban legends floating around the place, I'd picked up evidence of a possible time anomaly, a distortion that had disrupted the normal flow of events and led to strange inconsistencies. One of many possible leftovers from the breach in Gravity Falls.

"Let her know I'll be getting in touch with her soon. In the meantime, If anyone needs me, I'll be in my bunker, researching a way to permanently contain Bill. There's no point in going over there if I'm not ready to put an end to him once and for all."


27B: Speak of the Devil

"Ladies and Gentlemen, for the first time in history, we've decided to award all the Nobel Prizes to the same recipient!"

A hush came over the crowd gathered in the Stockholm crowd.

"In Physics… for 'A comprehensive Study of Missing Left Sock Syndrome'."

Back in the audience, I, Phoebe Heyerdahl, age 11, wondered just what I was doing here.

"In Chemistry, for 'Why Olicity just doesn't work."

Well, that was obvious, the characters were forced together to satisfy a subset of the fandom without really establishing why- wait, that's not the kind of chemistry this award is for!

"In Medicine, for her cure for that thing where you walk into a room but you can't quite remember why you walked in there in the first place. In literature, for her epic Avatar: The Last Airbender fanfic: "Rise of the Void Republic."

I did get quite a few rave reviews on that, I thought. Wait… why would the Academy be honoring fanfic?

"In Peace, for ending the Shipping Wars. And, finally, in Pasta Sauce, for discovering a fat-free Alfredo that actually tastes like the real thing and doesn't cause eny sort of intestinal distress!"

"Get ready, Pheebs," Helga prodded me from the seat on my left, smiling. Funny, she looked a lot older. On my right, Gerald, looking about twenty or so and sporting a shaved head and goatee instead of his trademark high-top, squeezed my hand.

It was then I realized I, too, was an adult now. Or had been for some time. Of course. I was being honored for my many accomplishments at last.

"For all these accomplishments, and more, it is our honor to award Doctor Phoebe S. Heyerdahl, MD, PhD, EtcD literally ALL the Nobel Prizes." The top-hatted presenter beckoned me forward.

I walked forward towards the podium. All eyes were on me as I reached my destination.

I cleared my fault. "Thank you, but I'm afraid I must decline."

"What? Why? How could you possibly turn down the honor of a lifetime?"

"Because, Bill Cypher, you have made several mistakes. First, the sixth Nobel Prize is in Economics, not pasta sauce, prestigious field though it is. Second, the peace prize is awarded in Oslo, not Stockholm. And third… this is the part of the dream where I realize I'm wearing a chicken suit."

"HEY, LOOK, EVERYBODY! PHOEBE'S WEARING A CHICKEN SUIT! BWAH-HA-HA-HA-HA!" brayed a voice from the audience, right on cue. You could always count on Harold, or even a dream-avatar, to immediately pounce on any opportunity to mock someone.

"Well-played," the host answered, his voice now shrill and manic. "You always were the sharp one, weren't you, Owl Eyes? Seeing what no one else sees. Maybe you can see what I see… that in the end, you lose. In the long run, you're gonna wanna be on the winning team. I can get you in on the ground floor, baby!"

"Sorry, but once again, I must decline. I have a far higher opinion of my friends than you. I know you've propositioned both, and I know you've failed both times to interest them in your Faustian covenant. You will find me no more willing to engage in diabolic negotiation than they. In the parlance of our national pasttime… "

My fencing foil was instantly in my hand. The host had no time to react as it pierced him.

"…three strikes and you're out. Oh, and I was untruthful… I am not sorry at all!"

He screamed as his form began to fold in on itself, as though the foil was a quantum singularity that only functioned on him. "YOU THINK YOU'VE WON, OWL EYES? JUST WAIT 'TIL YOU SEE MY BACKUP PLAN! IT'S A DOOZY!"

"Best Nobel ceremony ever," Helga commented, munching popcorn.


-PHOEBE-

I awoke in my bedroom at MDI in a cold sweat.

So that had been the Bill that Helga and Rhonda had warned me of. Despite my calm bravado in the dream, the truth was, had they not advised me to anticipate his presence, it was quite likely I would have unwittingly accepted his proposal, leading to consequences I could only begin to guess at. My mind was a rational thing; the motives of a mad cosmic abomination were beyond me. He was clearly a persuasive sort, though, and he'd done a skillful job of playing to my vanity and need for approval.

Still… I had been the last of his targets, and I had managed to resist. The danger he posed should be over, leaving us to focus on the threat of the so-called "Old Man" and his organization, itself a major quandary to be sure. And yet… I had a feeling his threat of a backup plan wasn't mere bluster. Just what had the entity up its metaphorical sleeve?

I yawned. There was no use speculating at 3 AM. There would be time to discuss this with the girls the next day. I rolled over, hoping my next attempt at slumber would be more peaceful.


A. N. This was a short one, wasn't it? In fact, this would've been two separate chapters, but they woud've been so short by themselves that I combined them. We've all been waiting for Phoebe's confrontation with Bill anyway, and I figured this would be as good a place as any.

Jose (I'm assuming, since you use the same sign-off line): Thanks, I hope I'm not overdoing it on the guest-stars, but I always did like Debbie and thought a grown-up version of her would fit nicely into the story.

Next: with apologies to Paul Simon, it's a mother and child reunion!