"You need a ride?"

Dipper, sure he had been alone, span his head around to the noise quickly, scrubbing the tear from his eye. At first, he could not see where the voice had came from, and thought he had imagined it.

"Look up."

Jumping at it's sudden reappearance, the male snapped his head upwards. There, hovering above his head, was a colourful van. Through the metal, he could hear a faint tune of music from within. In the front, a pink alien being was poking his head out, cap covering most of his face.

"Sorry, you looked a little lost – say the word and I'll stop bothering you." The trucker said. Dipper shook his head quickly, swallowing.

"No, no. I am lost." He stared around him hopelessly, giving a sigh. "A ride would be great, thanks."

He supposed that wherever this trucker was taking him could give him more of a chance of making it back to his dimension, if even that was still a possibility. With a sinking feeling in his gut, he reminded himself that it took Ford thirty years to make it out, and that was only with external help.

"You getting in?" The trucker's question pulled him out of doomed thoughts. Without realising, he had pulled up next to him.

Dipper mutely nodded, stepping inside the truck. Music greeted him immediately in a loud wave, making him wince. Seeing his discomfort, the trucker reached across the messy dashboard and turned down the volume. Dipper slumped into the chair next to him, staring out of the window as they began to move. The truck rattled almost continuously, and usually he would be panicking at the lack of safety measures in the vehicle.

It didn't even cross his mind.

"No offence, but you look real down, man." The trucker said, staring at him out of the corner of his eye. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen a human here in a while."

"I was dragged down here." Dipper replied quietly. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. "Is that normal?" He asked.

"Hmm." The trucker thought, drumming the steering wheel. "Not really. Not at all."

Dipper sighed, slumping.

"So you don't know how I would be able to get back?" He asked dully.

"I might." The trucker said unexpectedly. Dipper looked at him in shock, and he shrugged. "Describe."

"What?"

"What happened. Describe it to me." The trucker clarified, turning off the music.

"Well, I was just walking in the woods, and I got pulled down by a rift." Dipper began. The driver gestured him to continue. "And then…then I was falling. These arms dragged me in, you see…"

"Arms?" The trucker clarified. Dipper nodded.

"Yeah…then everything was white and red…nothing was there…and…" Dipper looked down at his hands, shivering at the memory. "…I was glitching…like a television screen…and then the ground kinda broke, and I fell into a place that was where I came from, but wasn't." Dipper finished quietly. "And now I'm here."

He didn't mention the singing, or the piano keys that had surrounded him. He pushed it to the back of his mind, and planned for it to stay there.

"You fell into a multiverse, it sounds like." The trucker said. However, he frowned, furrowing his eyebrows. "But not quite. You went somewhere else first. When you were falling. Where you were dragged into."

"What do you mean? You know what happened to me?" Dipper asked hopefully.

"Not much." The trucker's answer disheartened him.

"But something, right?" He pressed. The trucker looked slightly uncomfortable, and would not answer at first.

"Let me get you a drink. It will be easier." He eventually said, slowing the truck as they descended into a planet. Dipper felt his heart twist at the answer he was given, staring as the changing scenery in front of him.

They landed on the curve of a darkened street which had clearly seen better days. The buildings were mostly abandoned, litter grouping in alleys. The only think that looked alive in the entire area was a bar that they were striding towards. The trucker was leading the way, Dipper trailing behind. He kept his eyes on the ground, feeling his anxiety flare as the day drew to a close. His heart was pounding and he fought to stay in control of his unsteady breaths.

The bar, expectedly, was extremely rough, with most of its corners concealed in shadows. Looking up briefly, he saw hostile eyes staring at him accusingly, so resumed his stare at the ground.

Untuned music played around them as different species from different universes drank and yelled across worn tables. A bar was placed at the back of the building, ran by a bar maiden with green-scaled skin. Dipper did not see a human in sight.

There was an empty table pressed against the crumbling wall, still littered with empty glasses and plates. Dipper watched as the trucker gestured for him to sit in one of the seats occupying the table. He slipped into the seat beside the one the trucker had picked, politely declining the drink that was offered to him.

"Name's Hank, by the way." The trucker fully introduced himself. Dipper nodded. "Inter-dimensional taxi driver and trucker, at your service."

"Taxi driver?" Dipper asked. He let out an "oh". "How much do I owe you?"

"We'll get there in a second." Hank waved him off, taking a long sip from his drink. "Right now, I want to give ya all the information I know, 'cos it looks like you're gonna need it."

Dipper nodded mutely again, gripping the table tightly.

Now that they had settled, the bar's focus was no longer on them, and so resumed the loud arguments and heavy drinking. Dipper felt himself relax the smallest fraction, now hopeful that he wouldn't get killed within the first five minutes of entering the building.

"You said that you fell through red and white, right? Glitching?" Hank hummed. "To me, it sounds like you were in-between the universes. I like to call it Universal Limbo." He scratched his chin. "I don't know how the fuck you ended up in there though. Only ever heard of it happening to demons and shit. Even then…I thought it was all talk. Myths."

"Universal Limbo?" Dipper repeated. "But why me?"

"Don't know." Hank replied unhelpfully. He shrugged. "Didn't you say you fell through another portal?"

"Yeah." Dipper answered, staring down at the wooden table.

"Remember what colour it was?"

Dipper furrowed his eyebrows in thought, trying to recall the flashing colours before he was plunged into the "limbo".

"Gold. With purple." He answered slowly. "Does that mean anything?" He asked as Hank began to pull out a worn, paper book. He began to flick through the pages with a hum.

"Kid, every portal means something." The trucker answered. "Here."

He pushed the book under Dipper's nose, who blinked at the worn pages. Hank's pink finger jabbed at one of the sentences to guide him.

"A golden and purple rift like that opens for three minutes each time, across multiple areas…direct route to where you came from, or should be." He summarised. Dipper felt his heart race.

"So if I get to it and get through –"

"You should be taken back, that's right. Right back to where you left off."

"I have a chance?" Dipper raked a hand through his hair with a small laugh. "I get go back to Gravity Falls – my Gravity Falls?"

Hank made a small sound, waving his hand.

"Kind of. You can, but only for the remainder of this season. That's –"

"Two months away…right?" Dipper murmured, doing a quick calculation in his head. Hank nodded. "What if I don't find the same portal within that time? Then what?"

"A good few decades. Unless someone opens one up for ya, but haven't heard of that happening in over thirty years." Hank informed him. He caught a glance at Dipper's worried face, slapping his back in a reassuring fashion.

"Don't worry. I can tell you'll get it first time." He said, downing his drink. Dipper nodded.

"Yeah." He nodded determinedly. "For sure."

Even if it kills him, he realises, he knows he will get back to Gravity Falls. His friends, his family, his sister, all waiting on him.

"A word of warning." Hank interrupted his thoughts again. "Time moves different in each area, each universe. You'll age like you do on your universe, but it may feel longer in others." He shrugged again. "Like time zones, but on a way bigger scale."

Dipper automatically looked down at his watch, noticing it had stopped completely.

The younger gazed around the pub for a few moments, deep in thoughts. As he watched two particularly burly creatures break into a fight at the bar table, he looked down at his watch again.

How long had he been gone already on Earth? It was impossible to tell. Had they noticed he had gone yet? His heart gave another sudden burst of longing, making him almost double up in the pain of it all. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a few seconds. He tried to imagine hearing Mabel's voice amongst the noise – she always knew exactly how to calm him, how to keep him grounded. But he could not fake something so important in his life, and wondered darkly how long it would take for him to drift away entirely.

"Drink." Hank pushed a drink towards him. Dipper automatically made a noise to protest, but the trucker raised his hand to stop him.

"Looks like you need it." He said shortly. Dipper grabbed the glass in his hand, taking a hesitant sip.

He had tried alcohol before, and was no stranger to its bitter, burning taste. He disliked it, only drinking it on special occasions where taste did not matter.

This drink felt like his throat had just ignited, making him splutter for a few seconds in shock. He forced the liquid down his throat, pushing the drink away.

"Hm. I guess humans don't drink this much." Hank muttered. Dipper nodded, glad to find the burn was receding.

"Where do rifts actually open around here?" He asked, attempting to change the topic of conversation. Hank gestured to the window with his thumb, smiling.

"See, there's a reason people actually come to this place, and drink these shitty drinks." The trucker said. "You see that out there?"

Dipper followed Hank's point curiously. His eyes widened as he caught sight of several rifts and portals gathered together, all in different colours and shapes.

"Rifts…" he muttered. Hank nodded.

"Don't know why, but whenever one forms, they always gather here, in this area. Stay here, lay low - you'll be able to catch your rift easily when it comes, dude." He explained.

"But not always?" Dipper asked, thinking back to his own experience. The rift came out of nowhere. "Like the one I fell into?"

Hank made a "kind of" gesture, taking another sip from his drink.

"I can't speak for the one you fell into – never heard of anyone getting dragged into Universal Limbo, ever." He said, staring down at the liquid in his glass. He looked up, giving a small smile. "But you're right in your thinking. Multiple pathways can turn up at once, but one pathway will always be here. Don't worry."

"Good…" Dipper sighed in relief. He looked down at his watch again, taking it off his wrist. It was useless in this world.

There was no clock in the bar either, and he guessed it was hard keeping time in a world that was open to so many universes. He let out a huff, mentally thinking of what he could do to pass the time.

The most obvious choice was getting a job at the bar or somewhere close to the rifts – there he could see when his own rift would come, and return back home. However, he doubted that anyone would be willing to hire a human, and without any currency he was very vulnerable.

Reminded of currency, he snapped his head back to Hank, rubbing the back of his neck.

"What do I owe you for the ride?" Dipper asked. He stuck his hands in his pockets, only finding a few loose coins at the bottom and a pocket knife. Dipper traced the handle of the blade, shocked that something had stayed with him when he fell.

So maybe not completely defenceless, but a small knife wouldn't help against any of the guns he had seen people carrying around.

"I accept all currencies." Hank answered. Dipper watched as he counted on his fingers, deep in thought. "That's roughly…eight hundred dollars."

"What?" Dipper asked, startled at the price.

"No wait – eight hundred and twenty four." Hank added. When Dipper opened his mouth to ask why, he gestured to the drink. "Brought you a drink, didn't I?"

"Um…I don't have that kind of money." Dipper admitted. To his surprise, Hank chuckled.

"I can tell that by looking at the state of ya." The trucker answered. "So I'm gonna propose an alternate way."

"What do you want from me?" Dipper asked, quickly catching on. Hank grinned at his answer. He gestured outside with his thumb, pointing to his van which was parked on the curb.

"You probably noticed that my van isn't exactly the best quality. The parts are old or missing altogether." Hank explained. He then moved the direction of his point to the street opposite. Dipper, craning his neck, followed his direction.

The pink finger was pointing at a large night club, strobe lights flashing purple and red. Even through the walls, Dipper could hear the soft hum of music, guests already entering in flocks.

"There are some…rivals…of mine which have way better parts hanging around their stuff. But I couldn't buy any of them because of their shitty prices." Hank muttered. He dropped his hand, leaning towards Dipper.

"What do you want me to do about it?" Dipper asked, despite already knowing the answer. So he wasn't surprised when the trucker revealed the final part to his plan.

"I want you to go inside, find their fucking van, and get me those parts." Hank finished, pointing at his chest. "You should find a red van – like mine, but shittier. They keep them with 'em at all times."

Dipper leaned back in his chair, breathing deeply. He wasn't comfortable with jumping into such a dangerous sounding job, and was curious about why he was needed specifically. It wasn't like he was a stranger to crime, being practically raised by one of the greatest con artists in America, but this was a new environment, a different level. He narrowed his eyes, hardening his expression.

"Why can't it be you? And what if I refuse?" Dipper asked suspiciously. Hank shrugged casually again, but his tone was hard and serious.

"I can't do it because they know me. I'll be shot in the face as soon I get near them or their van." Hank folded him arms, pausing. "And if you say no? I like you, I really do – but I'm sure the black market would pay a pretty penny for you…heard human organs sell particularly well at this season –"

"Okay! I get it!" Dipper interrupted, shocked at the sudden change of tone. He coughed, clearing his throat. Through gritted teeth, he forced out "I'll do it."

"The parts should cover the money you owe me well, so don't worry about anything else." Hank grinned again, holding out his hand. Dipper shook it before standing up.

Pulling his jacket on tighter, he began to exit the bar.

"I'll be waiting here, dude!" Hank called as stepped outside. Rolling his eyes, Dipper shut the door behind him, immediately greeted by the cool air brushing his face. He closed his eyes for a brief moment before giving a loud sigh, tucking his hands into his pockets.

With the unexpected threat hanging over his head, he strode to the other side of the street.

Confusingly (and suspiciously, in his opinion), there were no bouncers or guards waiting at the doors. Dipper watched as other beings walked in as they pleased. He supposed that things were just run differently in this universe, or there was a greater threat inside. He preferred to think of it as the former.

He wasn't sure what awaited him, and why the trucker was hesitant to go himself – but if it meant he was one step closer to returning home, so be it.

"Home." Dipper muttered as a reminder to himself when he hesitated at the entrance of the night club. The bright lights illuminated his pale skin, reflecting in his eyes. "It will be worth it."

Gripping the pocket knife in his hand, he opened the door, slipping into the crowd of partygoers.

And gasped.