When they got back to the Shack it was one in the morning. Ford went directly to the basement. He didn't stop to grab anything to eat or drink. Stan shook his head and went directly to bed.
The next morning Stan made breakfast and took a plate down to Ford. His brother had the satellite imagery up and was scrolling across what looked like a wheat field.
"Eat," Stan commanded, dropping the plate next to him, "or else your brain is going give up on life."
"Where you are technically correct, I'm currently in the middle of something."
Stan reached over, pushed a button, and the screen when black. Ford stared with horror at the blank screen.
"Take a break, Sixer," Stan said moving the key board and replacing it with the food, "the bad guys will still be there after you take care of yourself."
"But…you just…"
"I just turned off the monitor Ford, the computer is still on. Just take care of yourself. If they come by and attack us again, I don't know if I can fight them all by myself and you'll be useless if you're not up to par. For how smart you are, you can be really stupid."
Ford scowled at him as he left back up the stairs. He hated it when Stan was right.
()
Dipper glared out the window as Cassy drove him to the appointment Saturday morning. He understood that his parents were doing this because they cared, but he honestly could not bring himself to care anymore. He felt like every time he met with a therapist, he'd been rubbed raw. How could he be expected to open up to someone when they obviously had no real interest other than in their own paycheck? It had NOT escaped his notice just how expensive these appointments were.
The waiting room played smooth jazz. All the others had played classical or NPR. The difference was oddly comforting, even though he hated jazz. The building itself was very small. Including the waiting room, there had to be only three offices in the entire place.
A very tall man came out and greeted them. His hair was dark and professionally cut. He wore a polo shirt and slacks and he looked like he polished his shoes. Dipper took this all in and thought he looked like a prude.
"I'm Dr. Hassic and you must be Mason," he held out his hand to Dipper first. This didn't impress him, but he took the hand. He had told his dad that he'd at least try.
"Mrs. Pines," Dr. Hassic shook her hand, "you can wait here if you like. If you have somewhere to go, leave your number with the receptionist so we can call you when we are done. I'm also sure Jannett there has the good mints if you'd like some."
"Thank you," Cassy said sitting back down, "I'll stay right here."
"You can also ask to change the music if you like," Dr. Hassic added, "We're pretty easy going here."
Cassy nodded and watched her son follow the doctor into the back room. This truly was the last place they could go. All the other offices were more than an hour away…
()
Dipper looked around the office. He sat on the small couch and Dr. Hassic took a seat on his desk chair. There was a short coffee table separating them.
But his desk was the most interesting. There were pictures of everything. Dipper was sure there wasn't anything this guy hadn't photographed. There was even a framed picture of what looked like a foot.
Weird.
They sat in complete silence. Dr. Hassic didn't even have a note pad. He just sat there.
"Aren't you gonna ask me questions?"
"This is your time," Dr. Hassic smiled, "Spend it how you want."
Dipper froze. The ball was entirely in his court. This was a first.
"What made you take me on?" Dipper asked instead. Hassic frowned.
"I'm not sure I understand the question."
"The other place I went to was warned ahead of time that I was coming and that I was difficult. Didn't you get the memo?"
Hassic shrugged, "this is a relatively new office and very much privately owned. We don't get much funding from anyone. We're small and don't get a lot of interaction with the other offices in the area. So no, we don't illegally gather information about potential clients."
The dig was so subtle. Dipper grinned.
"I made the last one cry."
Hassics face was unreadable, "Impressive."
Dipper looked around the office again. The silence was starting to become unbearable.
"You like self help books?" He asked watching the doctors face closely. Hassic turned to look at the shelf above his desk. It was crammed with all sorts of books.
"I keep them around in case someone wants it. Some people learn better when the advice they get is from an ambiguous source. An invisible author is more trust worthy and comforting than the people around them. Other people need to be told, by another person, to their face, how they can improve. I keep them around for the former. You like those books?"
"I hate them."
"Then we shall speak of them no more."
Silence again. What was this guy thinking? What was the point of this? This wasn't helping!
"I don't like counselors," Dipper said, challenging him.
"How many have you met?"
"A lot."
Hassic nodded, "takes a while to find the right one."
"Is there a right one? Maybe there's nothing wrong with me and everyone else is freaking out over nothing."
"…finding a councilor is like shoe shopping," he said, "I have very average sized feet for my size, and I'm a therapist, that means I don't have to do a lot of standing or walking. Other people, though, have wide or slender feet and some have bunions to worry about. Some have to find shoes that will allow them to stand for long periods of time. Every issue is different, some are external, some are internal, sometimes it's a combination. You just have to find a shoe that fits and serves your purpose."
"So if I decide I don't like you?"
"I'm just here to help; weather or not you like me is your problem," Hassic smiled, "but I wont take any offence."
"what if I can't find the right shoe?"
"get one custom made….like me. Size 15 is really hard to come by."
"…how does that fit the analogy?"
Hassic laughed, "you can find counselors online who will talk to you over email or video conference. If you really don't think your problems are that serious, then you can always use the phone services for when you need someone quick to talk to in the moment. There are so many options out there…I could actually print you a list if you like."
Dipper thought about this. It made sense. He could show his mom the list and she wouldn't be upset if things didn't work out here. Emails would also be more ideal because then he could reread what he wrote and make sure he wasn't sending the other person information that would land him in the nut house.
The minutes ticked by and Dipper again felt the silence like a physical weight.
"What made you become a counselor?"
"Why did something have to make me?" Hassic grinned. When Dipper scowled at him he shrugged.
"I wanted to be a cowboy, in all honestly," he said, "I was a city boy, but I really wanted a horse, hat, spurs, and I wanted to sit around a camp fire and carry a gun. I skipped college and got a job at a ranch. I worked there for about three years. Then those stupid cows ganged up on me and I lost my leg."
Dipper flinched, "what?"
Hassic smiled and pulled up his pant leg. The leg was shiny and to prove it was plastic, he knocked on it.
"Never, ever, mess with cows that suddenly don't like you. They may seem like docile creatures, but they are vicious and they hold grudges."
"but…you didn't limp or anything…" Dippers eyes traveled to the picture of the foot on the desk. It suddenly had new meaning.
"I'm really good at using this thing," Hassic seemed pleased with himself, "I made sure I could move around while not alarming anyone. The boss at the Ranch told me he would pay for part of my tuition if I went to school. He can't stand it when people just don't do anything after a tragedy, so he encouraged me to do something with my life. I chose social science and wound up specializing in therapy. He still calls me now and then to remind me to not waste my time and to not be a bum."
Hassic seemed really happy with the fact that someone called him just to tell him to not be a bum. Dipper couldn't look away from the leg, his own leg suddenly feeling awfully numb.
"...does it hurt?"
Hassic shrugged, "It gets sore, and sometimes my brain forgets that it's gone, but other than that, not really."
Dipper had the opposite problem, but he could still relate. Hassic sat and waited for Dipper to either continue the conversation or start a new one. It was then that Dipper truly understood that this was HIS time. He could talk about whatever he wanted and Hassic would respond.
"you know…" Dipper started, his mind racing for a topic, "that, um, that rancher guy sounds like my Grunkle Stan. He's the kind of guy to tell someone to not be a bum."
Hassic laughed, "yeah, they're the best. Full of blunt honesty, shifty motives, and unapologetic wisdom."
Dipper grinned as well, that really was Grunkle Stan.
"May i ask you a question?" Hassic asked, and Dipper felt the bottom drop from his stomach. He'd had his hopes up.
"Yeah?"
"…what's a 'grunkle'?"
Dipper had been expecting a different question, "Oh, um, it-it's short for great uncle. Grunkle Stan called my parents a number of years back and asked if we could spend the summer with him to help him around the Shack."
"I want to say 'that must've been fun', but you used the word 'shack' which has a negative connotation."
Dipper shrugged, "He runs a tourist trap called the Mystery Shack, so we just call it the Shack….and it is a shack…"
"I don't have any great uncles, but I do have a great aunt," Hassics eyes lost focus and a mischievous grin spread across his face, "she'd kill me if I called her 'grauntie'…I'm so going to do that now. You have inspired me!"
"Glad I could make your relationship…worse?"
Hassic waved it away, "she's like, a million years old. Anyway, we only have a few minutes left, is there any other questions you'd like to ask before you leave?"
Dipper turned to the clock on the wall. Had it really been an hour?! Dipper thought about what he could ask…
"You're not going to…tell on me, are you? Like if I tell you something, you're not going to turn around and tell my mom?"
"Well," Hassic sighed, "You are a minor. That complicates things. But, I can see if your parents would like to sign a confidentiality contract that essentially states that so long as you're not a danger to yourself or others, they don't need to know what we talk about."
Dipper nodded and bit his lip. Would his parents sign it?
"And," Hassic said slowly, "if they don't sign it…between you and me, if you say "off the record" I'll make a note and see that its not included in my report. But you can't say everything is off the record. You have to pick and choose your battles, ok?"
Dipper thought about this, "isn't that against the law?"
"I don't sell secrets," he said raising his hands, "I'm under the impression that my client is not only the one who pays me, but the guy across the table from me, and my job is to make sure my client feels comfortable sharing with me. If knowing something is going to reach the ears of their parents stops them from telling me what's bothering them, then I have no qualms with keeping a few secrets…so long as it's said, 'off the record'."
Dipper gave a short nod and stood, "That's all I wanted to know."
"Ok," Hassic stood and lead him out of the office.
()
Cassy waited on pins and needles for the entire hour. This was a good sign, right? All the other appointments had ended in less than thirty minutes.
When Dipper and Hassic walked out, Cassy stood.
"Everything ok?" She asked looking from one to the other.
"We just talked," Hassic replied with a smile, "so, Mason, will I be seeing you next week?"
Dipper hesitated. The idea of just emailing a therapist was such a nice one…
"Only if mom signs the contract," Dipper said instead.
"What contract?" Cassy snapped, almost eager. Hassic gave Dipper a 'that's not cool' look before explaining to Cassy about the confidentiality contract.
"It does have to be signed by both parents," he said leading them to the receptionist counter, "Jannett, can you grab a confidant contract for me please?"
She stood and walked into a filing cabinet in the corner. After flicking through the folders she pulled out a packet of papers.
"Most of it is legal mumbo-jumbo," Hassic said taking the papers and showing them to Cassy, "but take this home. Go over it with your husband, and with Mason. Weather you sign it or not, if you want to came again, then make another appointment and come in. I'm available on Saturday mornings and Wednesday afternoons."
Cassy thanked him and said good-bye to Jannett who she had bonded with a little, and she and Dipper left. They got into the car, but Cassy didn't start it just yet.
"Did you like this one?"
Dipper could hear the answer she wanted in her voice. And didn't NOT like this guy…
"Out of everyone I've met since we started…he's the most sane," Dipper said and his mother beamed, "Yeah, he's ok."
His mother took a shuddering breath, wiped her eyes, and started the car. As they pulled out she turned left instead of right.
"mom…where are we going?"
"Slushies," she said, "we're celebrating!"
()
Stan was cleaning his guns when Ford walked into the kitchen and plopped down at the table.
"Bout time you came out of the basement," Stan muttered, "what did you find out?"
"…we're in a lot of trouble…"
"What else is new?"
Some one knocked on the front door and Stan, seeing that Ford wasn't moving, sighed and got up to answer it. Mimi stood there, and she had the same look that Ford had.
"Ok, bad news all around. Come in."
Mimi took a seat at the table between the brothers.
"We just got word from our sources over seas," Mimi replied, "the situation is a lot worse over there. Apparently this has been going on for a few hundred years, just in smaller numbers and with smaller creatures. Only recently have then been targeting larger, more powerful creatures. Which begs the question: is it because of a change in leadership or is it because they have something we don't know? Its nearly impossible to retaliate without alerting humans to our presence, which is why they've been getting away with it for so long."
Ford tapped the table, "I've mapped out facilities that the one in Navada is in contact with. They have a rather fantastic network that allows anyone they want to travel without any problems. They are a under the guise of a non-profit Eco friendly research platform. They log creatures as "environmental samples". There's quite a bit about how they catalog and their terminology translations so that no one really questions what they're doing."
"So…they're government funded?"
"Funded around the globe," Ford specified, "they have backing from everyone. They are a world wide organization that somehow has made it into every government there is!"
"I know they're bad guys, but you have to be impressed by that," Stan said, putting his gun back together, "imagine the kind of double talk that would be necessary to appease everyone. That is dedication."
"My kin are looking into locating specific facilities in Europe," Mimi replied, "They will stop the ones they can, but they'll need help getting to those they can't."
Stan shook his head, "we're two men- OLD men, Mimi, and the kids have school and a life. Who do you think we'd be able to get?"
Mimi tapped her bottom lip as she thought, "Mabel told me that this whole town is aware of us. But they choose to ignore it for the sake of sanity. Which I understand. But surly there are a few that would not mind joining our cause?"
Stan and Ford exchanged a look.
"I'll make some calls," Stan said, "we'll see from there."
()
Kristians head was reeling. He'd learned as much as he could about Gravity Falls and it was CLEAR that there was information missing. He knew all about this Stanford…or Stanly, character. It seemed his name was interchangeable. He'd read every review about the Mystery Shack and honestly couldn't fathom why anyone would waste their money there. He'd even looked up reviews about as many business as he could in the Gravity Falls area.
It was just a small town with really strange people. It was so average that it was beyond average. And then there was just this acceptance that racoons were sentient? And that this Manly Dan person could somehow get caught in a bear trap walking down main street? Was that really normal? And the self-proclaimed "local lunatic" is somehow the richest man there? There was also the fact that NO ONE COULD CONTACT GRAVITY FALLS FOR ALMOST A WEEK THREE YEARS AGO and no one talked about it.
Kristian laughed. He'd started this to try and get back at Mason, but instead he'd found a bigger mystery. His rivalry was looking pretty small in comparison to this.
"I need answers," he muttered, looking up another article, "what does the guy named 'Bill' have to do with all this?"
()
School was…fun. Dipper didn't think he'd ever look forward to going to school, but he did. Once people had calmed down and his episode had become old news, school was easy. His new classes were simple even though he'd joined them a month late.
And he had friends. Real friends.
He was awkward around them and opted to stay quiet for the most part, but they included him in a lot of their activities. He couldn't always tell if Mary liked him or not, but she often shared her snacks, so he took that as a yes.
"Dipper! Help!"
He looked up from his bag as everyone filed out of third period. Larry shoved people out of his way as he tried to get into the room. His arms were full of his textbooks.
"What's up?" Dipper asked, zipping up his bag and standing. Larry dropped the stack on Dippers desk.
"I need you to help me! I took Physiscs because I'm secretly a Dr. Who fan and I can't understand what we're doing and there's a chapter test on Friday. I have a F in the class so far. If I fail this one I won't be able to get my grade above a C by the end of the year."
"That doesn't sound right, its only October. Whose your teacher?" Dipper asked.
"Ms. Franks."
"Dude," Dipper shook his head, "next time research the teachers before you sign up for the class. We don't get to pick the teach, but we can at least be prepared for it."
"Will you help?"
"Have you been taking notes?"
Larry upset the pile of books unearthing a blue notebook. Dipper took it and flipped through it. Despite being a jock, Larry had impeccable handwriting…
"Let me borrow this for tonight and I'll put together a study guide for you," Dipper took his bag and opened it again, "if you have any other questions then we can stay after school and go over it."
"You're a saint!"
"Its just Chapters 3 and 4 right?"
"Yeah…but I didn't understand the other chapters either."
"K, I'll see what I can put together….so you like Dr. Who?" Dipper grinned.
"The dude travels through space and time with a cute girl every season. Why shouldn't I like it?"
Dipper laughed and they talked about the new shows vs. the old ones on their way to weight lifting. Kaden brought speakers that day and, after the teacher was done speaking, they all got to listen to music while they did their reps.
"Hey, hey, Dipper," one of his classmates sat on the bench next to him and put an arm around his shoulders, "I just wanted to ask you, you know, bros first and all-"
Dipper raised an eyebrow. He'd never been called a bro by anyone other than Mabel.
"-anyway, just wanted to know if it was ok if I asked your sister out."
Dipper removed the other guys arm and stood, "why don't you ask her? I don't control who she goes out with. I control what happens to the poor shmuck AFTER he screws up."
A few guys laughed and the classmate who'd asked raised his hands in surrender.
"Understood."