I started writing this story right after high school and my writing has improved by leaps and bounds since then. I've found I am literally incapable of completing this story without going back and rebuilding the entire story, so here I am... improving it. The reason I'm not making an entirely new story labelled "Pacifica Pines Rebooted" is because I want to improve on the one that's already here... plus y'all probably have this story saved and it seems troublesome to otherwise made an entirely new site for it.

Fair Warning: Stanford will be OOC because I started writing this just after A Tale of Two Stans was released before we got insight on his personality. In addition, there will be no pairings within this story—no Dipcifica, no Pacifica/OC, etc. This is focusing mainly on the family and friendship aspects of all their relationships bc even though I enjoy writing romance on occasion, I'm tired of it at the same time.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Child Abuse/Trauma, Violence, Supernatural Anger-Management Issues, OC Character Death That Traumatizes the Main Character

To cover the entire story, I do not have any ownership of Gravity Falls or it's characters, the only intellectual property I have are the OCs and the plot.

With that said, happy reading!

(EDITED: 10/11/21)

Pacifica Northwest lies on the ground in her room with tears silently streaming down her freshly bruised face. Considering she had let the townspeople into the house despite her father's clear instructions otherwise, she feels that she deserves this punishment… but she didn't regret it—not entirely.

The first rule that her parents had taught her was to obey and honor her them at all times so that's what she'd strove to do since she was young. When she was doing something wrong the bell was her signal to correct her behavior and she adjusted herself accordingly. When her parents had told her to not associate herself with the poor people or servants in the house she did just that and hung out with rich girls that were just as shallow as she was trying to be for them. It didn't work, but she learned to act like it- maybe a little too well because no one saw her as a girl in need or a girl that was just putting up a front- though one person saw a bit of that broken girl.

She pushes herself up despite the pain throbbing in her head when she hears the bell beckoning her. She has no time to clean herself up save for smearing the tears on her aching face. She walks with her hands clasped behind her back and head bowed so that she won't have to look at the servants- workers- as she passes them. She would prefer to skip seeing her parents completely, but she can't do that now. There is no one here to defend anymore, no crisis that she can use to justify her actions- though obviously that hadn't worked out very well.

The door to her father's office is already open and so she enters without looking at either of her parents.

"Do you know why we punished you?" Her father demands.

"B-because I disobeyed and shamed you," she answers, something she had used to say a lot when she was younger.

Her mother stays silent while her father narrows his eyes and speaks forcefully. "And?"

Pacifica grits her teeth and manages to say, "You only want what's best for me," without letting too much of her self-loathing and discomfort show.

"Good. Are you going to interact with those peasants ever again?"

"No."

"Are you going to disobey us?"

"No."

"Now get out of my sight and do something with yourself. You look terrible."

She quickly turns and flees from her father's office and is so distracted that she runs into someone and ends up on the ground. "I-I'm sorry!"

It's their butler- James, she thinks- and he seems to be looking at her with pity filled dark eyes.

"Young miss you are not the one at fault," he assures with his prim and proper British accent, observing her state of being for a moment before crouching down and holding out his hand to help her up. "Come with me. I'll have Margaret make you some hot chocolate."

"Thank you," she murmurs as she takes his hand.

He leads her to the kitchens where the maid is wiping down the counters.

She's seen the woman before, but not often. Mainly during large events where they need extra servers to deliver drinks and food to guests. Margaret was dark-skinned with her black hair slicked back into a neat, puffy bun. Every bit the professional image that her father required of his employees.

When Margaret looks up at the state the young mistress is in her lips press into a thin line and she looked as if she had seen a train wreck before she finally said "you poor thing" or something along those lines. Pacifica wonders what she's ever done to gain these people's sympathy when all she'd ever done was mistreat them and act as if they were objects that can be easily replaced. Maybe they did see her for who she was.

"Will you please make the young miss some hot chocolate?" James asks.

"Of course," Margaret assures, moving forward and gently taking Pacifica's hand. "Come on, sweetie. Let's sit you down."

James left—to do what she wasn't sure—but it left her alone with the woman. Over the next several minutes Margaret bustles about making hot chocolate and talking about menial things such as the weather. The meaningless chatter serves to sooth Pacifica's shot nerves as she watches the woman's practiced hands clean while waiting for the hot chocolate to be finished. When a steaming mug is placed in front of her, she can hardly help but to smile at the marshmallow smiley face staring back at her.

Margaret briefly mutters darkly about how her parents should be put in jail as she took the empty cup to wash it, but before Pacifica could question it the kitchen door opened and James walks in with a bag of tacos at hand.

"I thought I wasn't allowed to have tacos," she said distantly. "Or eat while on punishment."

He frowns and bends at the waist so that he's eye level with her. "You did a brave thing in allowing the townspeople into the mansion and you deserve to be happy. You shouldn't have to live with this anymore."

She lowers her gaze to her lap. "I don't know what to do..."

"Do what you feel is right..." James lifts her chin gently and smiles. "Be brave once again."

"How?"

"You'll find a way. Eat and think," he orders gently before standing up straight and going to Margaret to speak quietly over something she can't ear.

When finished with her food, James escorts her back to her room where she changes into her pajamas and curls into bed.

Pacifica—now alone with her thoughts— wonders what she can do to be brave like James had said. She doesn't want to be in this home—no—mansion anymore. It holds no warmth save for the rare moments when she interacts with the workers in a nice way and even then the impending doom of her parents finding out was something that caused her to be jittery and unable to feel truly at home. She actually never felt at home anywhere, now that she thinks about it.

But how do I get out of here?