HAT: I own not Gravity Falls, merely the OCs and plot. Enjoy y'allselves on this short chapter.
The saying goes time heals all wounds. Pacifica finds herself wondering what the appropriate amount of time for all her wounds- physical and mental- to heal because a week of being treated like a delicate object irks her nerves. She hasn't even gone back to school yet and she's been scheduled to see a licensed professional to talk through her trauma. After all Stanford was too close to the situation and would be no good as her therapist- much as he would insist otherwise it was a law. The only one that treats her with any sort of normalcy is... well Stanley.
"Hey, Paz."
Pacifica's gaze lazily lift from the words in her hands to Mabel standing in their doorway. "Yes?"
"Do you wanna play some games? Me and Dipper and Schmebulock are gonna play Two-No."
"I'd rather go monster hunting," Pacifica bluntly answers.
Mabel's face scrunches up briefly in a wince. "Grunkle Ford said-"
"I know what he said!" The electric eyed girl snaps.
The other girl visibly cringes away from her, effectively draining Pacifica's frustration.
"Just..." Pacifica sighs helplessly and readjusts the book in her lap and looks back to where she left off. "Go ahead without me..."
Mabel hesitates before sullenly muttering, "okay" and trailing off.
Pacifica feels a bit of guilt in her heart over this. Out of all the people that deserved to get yelled at in this entire town- in this entire world- Mabel was the last on that list... and yet Pacifica can't help but be angry. How could she understand anything of what Pacifica went through? She wasn't disowned or shunned by the school- by the town- and attacked over and over... she never killed a person- not a monster but an actual human being- with her own hands before. None of them have- except for Stanley it seems.
The anger builds in her chest and soon her hands have a tremor that she can't still.
God, I've never wanted to punch something in the face so much in my life, she thinks as she clenches her hands into lightly trembling fists.
There's so much anger inside of her and it's the only emotion lately that has stayed and burned in her chest.
They should've been there... we should've moved or something then I wouldn't have had to do that.
It makes sense. Perfect sense. The first attack should've given them more than enough reason to move but the Stans wanted to stay for Stanford's research and Stanley's comfortability and so that they could easily adopt her and keep her in a familiar place. At this rate anything new would've been preferred. Why did they let her go to school knowing she was being shunned and bullied? Why not move and give her a fresh start?
Adults are stupid, she convinces herself.
She closes the book and tosses it aside with a sneer. She needs to walk and get fresh air alone.
She grabs her jacket and puts it on gingerly. Her muscles still ache but she's healing quite nicely so she doesn't see any problem taking a short walk into the nearby woods. Now that Dan is dead she doesn't have to really worry about anything that goes bump in the night. After opening the window and she slips out as quietly as she can, taking the well-worn route that Wendy helped her learn to navigate to the point Pacifica's sure that she can accomplish it in her sleep.
As soon as her feet hit the ground she settles into a crouch and goes for the only blind spot that she knows of from the kitchen and the front door. After a few minutes of sneaking through the woods does she feel safe to walk normally.
Out here she feels... better... less trapped than inside of the house.
Why is this so hard? Why can't I... just...
Nothing's straight. Not her thoughts; not her life.
Nothing.
Life isn't fair but that doesn't mean anything. No matter how much she's grown since before she even met the Pines even Pacifica can acknowledge that she's just a kid. No matter if she's a teen, she shouldn't have had to kill someone for her own survival.
Just run.
Running helps her calm down. Running until she's breathless gives her a sense of exhilaration and that's what she's counting on.
So she gives into the whim.
Her feet move of their own accord, naturally avoiding roots and rocks that could mess up her stride. The trees blur in the sides of her vision but everything in front of her is clear, even with her dull human senses. Everything around her is alive in a way that she hasn't been aware of before, not to this extent. The branches sway with the breeze and rustles the leaves; scuttling of small mammals trying to escape her notice; larger mammals grazing in the fields; birds flitting from branch to branch and tree to tree; the distant sound of running water. The pulse of the forest pounds in her chest and throbs in her veins. The wind pushes her forward between her shoulders almost like a hand.
The entire experience is exhilarating.
She stops running beside the river. She walks slowly closer to it panting under the light of the sliver of moon left. She looks up into the night sky and is amazed at the amount of stars in the sky. Twice as many as she's ever seen in the junkyard, she's sure.
This is perfect.
Despite the ache in her body from her still healing wounds and the mess that's back at home she finds peace in being away from civilization.
HAT: The lack of inspiration is real, but dammit I am gonna finish it at some point. We are so close!
Wendy: Didn't you say that last time?
HAT: I swear, we're at most like... five chapters away from the end.
Wendy: *makes face* Sounds kinda familiar...
HAT: ... you can't prove it.
Wendy: *shrugs* Whatever, dude.
HAT: Would you be so kind as to say the thing?
Wendy: *waves* Review, peeps.