A/N: Full disclaimer, chapter contains self-harm. If you do not feel comfortable reading it, please skip to the next chapter or stop reading here. I'll do my best to cover all the necessary bits of the storyline in the next chapter.

Pacifica had turned her back on Dipper Pines, but she sensed something was off about him. Well, she also sensed a deep feeling of guilt, one she hadn't felt since the night at Northwest manor. Sure, she felt bad about how she treated and lied to everyone, but it wasn't the same as this feeling of loneliness and despair. The young girl ducked behind some bushes, as she looked on to see what his next move would be, hoping to justify her actions.

Dipper emotionlessly stared into the distance, as tears rolled down his face. Without looking down, he fetched his pocketknife from his pocket. Feeling with his fingers, he extended the blade out of the handle. The metal blade felt lethal as he ran his finger along the edge.

A tight feeling enveloped his chest. His breathing became more accelerated, as the tightness around his chest expanded. He felt his heart start to beat faster. Dipper felt himself start to drown in despair and turned his head to finally address the knife in his hand. The blade mirrored the distress on his watered face. As he contemplated what he was about to do, Dipper started to lose himself. Recent memories surfaced, turning his soul cold to the world.

He lifted his hand, preemptively regretting what he was about to do to himself. There was no going back from this. The cold blade pressed against his right arm; Dipper moved the knife lightly down his skin. He saw the vague, white outline of where he traced the blade. In retrospect, he should've stopped there, but a part of his mind wasn't satisfied. The teen's heart rate quickened with each stroke, as he moved the knife down his arm again and again, applying more pressure each time. Before long, a red streak appeared on his arm, seemingly satisfying him.

The hero who had survived all the weirdness of last year, from time travelers and child psychics, to dream demons, had finally reached his breaking point.

Pacifica watched quietly, her mouth gaping open in a silent scream. Each cut from Dipper's knife, she felt against her own heart. It was all because of her, wasn't it? All because he was trying to help her, and she didn't want to believe him. A single tear rolled down her cheek. The world was truly a cruel, twisted place.

A part of her wanted to run to Dipper, to apologize, to save him from further harming himself…but she had just severed herself from that possibility. No way would he react kindly to not only the mere sight of her, but the fact that she'd seen…what he'd done. He probably hated her. She truly was the worst, the one person who believed in her and saw her for what she was, now was out of reach, probably forever.

The young blonde retreated to her house, burdened by the dark turn of events she experienced. Dipper's hurt gaze the moment after she slapped him replayed in her mind. As she entered the house, Pacifica could hear the familiar raised voices of her parents arguing again and let out a sad sigh.


She found herself outside Greasy's Diner. Not sure how she got there, or what was going on. Entering, turned out it was empty. No hoard of endless customers. No casual banter. A pot of coffee was left on the stove. Definitely out of the ordinary.

Walking outside, not a soul in sight. A gentle breeze blew through the cold and barren streets of the town. Not knowing what was happening, she aimlessly wandered in a direction subconsciously chosen. The breeze turned cold, sending chills down her spine. Leaves blew past her face, the wind animatedly playing with her long hair. Her feet carried her down a dirt path to the opposite end of town.

The weather turned gray as droplets of rain fell from the sky. Puddles formed in her path, the gentle rhythm of water hitting the leaves of the trees turning fierce. At the end of the road, a white glow could be seen. The white glow illuminated the place she dreaded. Her stomach tightened, no turning back now.

Knocking on the front door, she hoped the cabin would be as empty as the town was. Footsteps reverberated from inside, crushing her hopes. The door creaked open, revealing a tall man. His shoulders were broad, and his hair was familiarly messy, but what she saw horrified her. The man's hair was nearly gray, and his arms were horribly scarred. He had a cane in one hand, and a leather book in the other. Peering over the rims of his silver glasses, the man looked back at her. She wanted to scream, to cover her eyes, to run away as fast as she could, but something about his eyes captivated her. Those eyes had no sympathy, no love. The friendly glance she knew was gone, replaced by a mean grimace. Wordlessly, he beckoned for her to enter.

"What brings you here?" his cold voice echoed through the empty world in her head. Those brown eyes glared at her in hate.

She wanted to apologize, to beg for forgiveness, to cry her soul out, but all she could do was look on helplessly. It hurt to see his face, his expression of pure despise, worse than her parents' gravest punishments.

"After all I've done for you – helped you stand up against your family, discover your true self, your family's history…you turned your back on me. I trusted you…but you never returned the favor. Abandoned me each time. You should've just left me for dead at the manor."

His vengeful words cut straight through her heart.

The man shook his head in disappointment and walked off into another room. Her eyes followed. The long shadow cast from the ceiling light betrayed his intentions. Her eyes widened. The dark shadow picked up a long blade, and thrust it deep into its stomach, a horrifying sound of metal slicing straight through the skin pierced the atmosphere.


Pacifica breathed in deeply, the pressure from her chest fading slowly. Her eyes were wide open, she felt freezing cold, and her heart beat erratically. The nightmare engrained itself in her mind, frightening how it affected her. Sweating in anxiety, the girl reached to her nightstand and found her phone. She sent a quick text, hoping to hear a reassuring response.

"Hey Mabel, is Dipper ok?"

Shortly after, she saw the time – 4:33 AM. No way she would respond this early in the morning. Pacifica took another deep breath, trying to keep calm. Her heart skipped a beat as she heard a buzz.

"Um Pacifica? It's 4 AM! He's asleep. Why?"

She paused. Should she tell Mabel about what she saw? It would be for Dipper's own good…but maybe that was also part of her dream? Pacifica breathed in, trying to differentiate what she remembered and what was her nightmare. After a moment, she shuddered. It would be impossible to share what she'd seen, and Mabel would definitely not take it well.

"Never mind, was just wondering."

For her own good, she needed to help Dipper, otherwise she would never feel happy again. There had to be a way to fix this. The dread started building up in her, but Pacifica didn't want to give up yet.

Among all the people she knew, Dipper held a special place. No one could be so charismatically charming and so awkward simultaneously. He had his flaws, and as it turned out, so did she. Losing him would make life that much more miserable. She hated the thought. Pacifica had thought that having her family return to normal would bring light back into her dark world, but they never showed the same devotion to others as the brown-haired teenager had.


The following morning, Dipper was rudely awoken by his twin sister.

"…wha…why?" he protested weakly, as she shook him awake.

"Rise and shine bro-bro!" she called, a smile on her face.

"Pacifica texted me late last night asking if you were okay…" Mabel started, a sly look on her face. "Anything you have to comment on that?"

Dipper groaned, the pain on his right arm creeping up. He stared at the wall for a moment, his memory clearing. "Comment? Not much, she probably hates me now. I deserve it…"

Dipper spoke in a low tone, hesitant to show any emotion. He caught Mabel's glance.

"Come on Dip, can't be that bad! I can talk to her for yo- "

He cut her off.

"Mabel, do me a favor for once. Just stay out of it."

Without another word, Dipper stood up, and left the room.