Dipper blinked.
Pacifica blinked too and tried to compose herself, giving another sniffle. "H-hey."
"Paz, I- I'm really sorry, I wasn't thinking. I just-"
"I get it, Dipper. I was a horrible person and you don't trust me. Whatever." She huffed.
"I do trust you. I just- I'm used to people trying to hurt us, okay? We've seen some pretty crazy stuff, I-"
"I said I get it ." Pacifica snapped - before shrinking back again. "I know you just wanna protect the people you love, Dipper. I just hoped I was one of them."
Dipper frowned and sat on the bed next to her, putting an arm around Pacifica's shoulders and pulling her close. "B-b-but you are!"
"Then how come 'me' and 'your family' are two separate things in your mind, Dip? I'm not a fool. I get it, I'm new and I've made mistakes, but-"
"But-" Dipper fumbled, before Pacifica raised her hand and glared at him. He went quiet again.
"But I love you." Pacifica said, firmly. "You're one of the few things in my life I'm certain about. You're the reason I have what I have, you changed everything about my world and you think you can just… just separate me from yours?!"
"I just don't- Pacifica, these things take time! I'm still getting used to this stuff, I've never had a girlfriend before, let alone one who's coming with me on all of this monster stuff! This - this is meant to be my thing and suddenly everyone is doing it!" Dipper finally spat out.
Things fell quiet.
"I'm meant to be the monster hunter. I'm meant to be the detective. I'm meant to be the next Grunkle Ford." Dipper continued. "I'm used to everybody in the world being out to get us. My Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford, Mabel, me, even Soos - we're used to being tricked, attacked, hurt, whatever! And - and I don't want that to be you. Enough people have gotten wrapped up in what this town throws at us. I don't want you to get hurt just because you moved out of your parent's house."
Pacifica frowned. "Don't you think that should be my choice? For a really smart guy, you're one of the biggest dummies I know. Stop acting like an ass and let me into your life, Dipper! I'm not going to hurt you, I'm not tricking you and if you dare accuse me of doing that again, or keep one more secret from me, I swear, I'll slap you !"
Dipper huffed and sat down. "P-point taken. I'm sorry, I just-"
Pacifica rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the vest fiercely. "Shut up. Alright? For once. Just shut up, you dork."
Dipper was about to speak again before Pacifica pulled him into a kiss. He flailed, throwing his arms around her tightly as he tried to process what the hell was going on, his face flushing a trademark red as the both of them indulged in just about the most passionate - albeit tense - kiss they'd both ever experienced.
Relationships were freakin' weird .
Pacifica pulled back and shoved Dipper away from her playfully, their lips separating with a wet smack. "I love you, you nerd. Don't take that for granted and don't protect me unless I ask for it."
"W-will you forgive me?"
"No. Not until you forgive me for what's happened in the past."
"That might take a while-" Dipper mumbled, wiping his mouth.
"Then so will this." Pacifica huffed and picked the notepad up from the bed. "Now are you ready to start reading a proper mystery?"
Dipper paused, briefly wondering if it was time to unveil his own learnings from Manly Dan - but opted against it. He figured it was a need to know basis. And she didn't really need to know until he unveiled it. Right?
He thought that was a pretty smart plan. He'd blow her away, knock her socks off, really make her think he was five-star monster-hunter-boyfriend material. Maybe they'd go to a state where teenagers can get married or something.
Instead, he decided to just play along with Pacifica's mystery. It wasn't a secret, it was just holding it back until relevant. He was the hero, the expert , and he'd prove it. "What is it?"
"Toby Determined gave it to me. It's a load of notes from one of his ancestors." She replied, handing it to him.
Dipper looked incredulous as he glanced at the loosely bound scraps of yellowed, tattered paper, barely holding on to themselves in his hands - each one looking scruffier than the last. "What, Toby gave you a story and you believed it? He's a hack. He's never done a piece of journalism in his life."
"Toby is many things, Dipper, but he was pretty damned serious about this stuff. Besides-"
Dipper lifted the first page, yelped and dropped it to the floor. "That's - that's Bill!"
"Yup, figured that'd be your reaction. Turns out Tobias Determined was as interested in the town's weirdness as your Grunkle, about a hundred years before Ford even got here."
Dipper's hands shook as he started reading. "B-but this-"
"If you seriously think anything is impossible in this town, Dip, you need to give up your monster hunting."
Dipper couldn't really argue with that. The two of them started reading intently, curious to see what answers Tobias had managed to get together before his inevitable silencing.
The next few pages told of a very different Northwest family to even what they believed to be the case. Even Dipper - who was still only just processing the harrowing tale from the Corduroy records - found his eyebrows raising as he read the report.
October 29th, 1882.
I attended a small celebration at Northwest Manor today under a level of disguise, hopeful to discover some form of further elucidation as to the presence of The Cipher in Nathaniel Northwest's collection. I'm afraid to say that, since 1863 and the construction of the mansion house, Nathaniel has only grown more erratic and fearful.
His beard, quite unkempt, is now beginning to grey in his advancing years - but, crucially, his mind has deteriorated into a rambling mess of insanity, forever praising this creature: the Cipher, or, as he calls it, William. I fear he has begun worshipping this being, and has started gathering memorabilia ranging from around the world.
I was shocked to discover many relics scattered around the manor, from this triangular shape being caught within valuable renaissance era art, to ancient sarcophagus from Ancient Egypt and Persia.
What was once simply a locale obsession is now an international treasure heist. Nathaniel has purchased many properties from tombs, grave sites and sacred locations across the world, paying teams of mercenaries handsomely before they inevitably go 'missing'.
His own wife, Lucinda, has confided in me that she is fearful of the man - though I soon discovered she was leaning in to talk to me in a thinly veiled attempt to poison or drug my beverage.
Their eyes are increasingly sunken, their faces pale and pallid. I fear that they have not gone outside in many months, perhaps years, and seem to rely on their home's dim gas lighting to see through the windowless corridors within.
Their children seem ungodly silent, out of sight and mind. They have many children, and I have not seen any of them. Even the oldest, Cornelius - who has many business interests, including the Gravity Falls railroad - is nowhere to be seen within this labyrinthine, terrible building.
I decided to hide myself inside the mansion once the celebration was over. The house was more than large enough to go missing within inconspicuously. I now write from within the manor's very walls. I shall report my findings.
The two kids glanced at each other, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. Bill, according to his own words, was a being who chose people of power and intelligence, those within who were particularly easy to manipulate, in the hopes of gaining credence and access to their dimension.
Had he been communicating with the Northwests? Could Weirdmageddon have happened centuries earlier, should the Northwests have willed it?
Pacifica looked more fearful than Dipper thought he had ever seen her. He glanced back at the paper and smiled nervously. "Maybe that should be it for the night?"
"Dipper, have you considered the fact we're going to the house tomorrow? I'd kind of like to know what we could be getting into."
"Well, maybe a good night's sleep would be a better idea, right? I mean, it's beginning to get dark, there's still no power, and-"
Pacifica frowned and switched on the lantern that sat on the bedside lantern. "And we're going to keep reading."
Dipper took a deep breath. "I'm really not sure if-"
"I am. And it's my family name."
Dipper couldn't help but be a little bit impressed. He cosied up a little bit closer to her and smiled. "If you're sure. Just let me know if you wanna stop."
"I will, hon'." Pacifica smiled, nuzzling into his cheek. "Relax."
The penmanship in what followed had declined, now shuddering and stilted, clearly written hurriedly with a sense of fear and tension. It seemed to record Tobias's experiences in the dark of the now quiet manor house.
It is now midnight, and I am unable to locate the Northwests. The lighting in this mansion is dim and unpleasant, and all seems to have become grey and drab in the absence of the townspeople's presence.
This building is impressively grotesque in its proportions. Everything is dark and smells of burning incense. Is this some sort of ritual? The family's voices can be heard, yet no room seems to contain them.
There is only echoing discussion. Something prompting the concept of a deal, some sort of talk of being agents of chaos, of following the will of William and his demands upon the is talk of scientific experimentation.
Their dynamic is fearfully unpleasant.
The family seem to be unhinged and unpleasant towards eachother, never expressing thoughts of love, compassion or care between eachother. They speak about people's lives as if they are pawns.
I am finding myself overcome with a feeling of dread. Why does this house seem to hold such a strange effect over me? What is lurking within? Why am I so… paranoid? So nervous?
Something is happening, here.
The two felt shivers fall down their spines, something that only seemed to grow stronger as the night continued to fall, the room darkening into a dim light provided only by the lantern on the bedside table.
Pacifica laid her head on Dipper's shoulder and wrapped an arm around him. Within time, Dipper was pretty sure he could feel her hand up his shirt, laid quite comfortably upon his chest, her nose pushed ever-so-gently against his neck. It did little to discourage his anxiety.
When Mabel came back upstairs with one of her suppertime concoctions (a gummi koala and chocolate sprinkle sandwich) she made little mention of it. She simply squeezed in besides them and read along, occasionally sending an emoticon laden text to Kevin back at the Corduroy hut.
Pacifica occasionally tried to crane her neck over to read, but soon grew too comfortable to particularly care.
There was much less comfort in the handwritten notes.
I have managed to locate Cornelius Northwest, Nathaniel's Eldest son. He's a stout man, perhaps mid 30s. He is discussing the Gravity Falls railroad with… himself. The man is talking to himself quite extensively.
He keeps discussing the need for a payout. There's a continuous look of fraught agony upon his face. I can see from the charts on his study's wall that there's very little profit in running a railroad to Gravity Falls. Perhaps because it takes an hour for trains to get down from the cliffs, and two hours for them to climb back up.
He's biting his pen.
He just threw his pen at a portrait of his father.
There appears to be several pens embedded in said portrait of his father.
I'm not sure how much Cornelius likes his father.
It was now growing late. The kids were beginning to lack as the minutes ticked by, the old lantern on the bedside table beginning to run out of oil, flickering into an increasingly dim, darkening orange that provided much ambience…
But much less function for reading.
Eventually, faced with the potential for eye strain, the two were forced to resign - and simply sat with eachother, eyes struggling to stay open.
"Did… you even know Cornelius existed?" Dipper whispered.
"I don't think I've ever heard of the guy." Pacifica whispered in return - slightly drowned out by Mabel's snoring. "Guess Nathaniel didn't like him either."
"Wasn't he in the newspaper?"
"Yeah, the story about the train crash."
"...Pacifica, do you think your family had… something to do with the train crash?"
"I mean, the newspaper says they cut staff training. I guess they were pretty irresponsible."
"I mean… more than that." Dipper replied, trying to be as tactful as he could.
Pacifica scoffed, but had to confess she wasn't filled with conviction about it. That would be the work of a family deranged. A family sick and twisted, with no care for people, dedicated to some sort of psychopathic higher purpose...
She looked back at Tobias's writing and felt a pit in her stomach.
By the time Grunkle Stan herded Dipper downstairs - loudly proclaiming he didn't want 'any funny business' going on between the two sharing a bedroom - Pacifica had officially resigned herself to a sleepless night.
The heady concoction of excitement, dread, and Mabel's loud snoring did little to assist a decent night's rest. The next day would be difficult.