Dipper Pines laid back on the grass, watching the clouds lazily drift past. Almost before his eyes, they had begun to tint pink and orange to match the setting sun. His dress shirt, loosely fitting and soft to the touch, was undoubtedly getting stained where it touched the ground, but that was the furthest thing from his mind.

To his right, Pacifica Northwest sat with her arms wrapped around her knees, idly playing with a pearl bracelet around her right wrist, her closed eyes giving her a serene, almost angelic look. Past her, endless rolling fields of wheat visually echoed the warm breeze that was intermittently listing through the air. From somewhere behind them distantly, laughter and gentle music echoed, as if carried over the breeze. Dipper couldn't quite recognize the song, only making out bits of strings and accordion from what he could hear. Whatever it was, it somehow felt timeless and new at the same time.

"I don't think I've ever felt this calm before," Dipper admitted, running a hand through his hair. For once, he had no cap on, and his constellation birthmark was on full display. But for whatever reason, he didn't feel subconscious about it. Maybe he was finally in the right company.

"I've never felt this seen before," Pacifica whispered. Dipper turned, studying how the sunset illuminated her long blonde hair. Her long lashes, in full focus, were impeccably detailed and color-coordinated with her purple dress. He was already pretty smitten with the young heiress, but at this moment he found himself captivated by every minor change in her expression. What a moment. The perfect end to a perfect evening.

Except… Dipper didn't remember the rest of the evening. Or why they were formally dressed. Or even…

"Pacifica," asked Dipper, "where are we?"

A small breeze wafted past the pair, lifting Pacifica's hair from her shoulders gracefully. He watched as the ends of her hair fluttered flawlessly, his eyes slowly drifting back to her face. She smiled sweetly, her eyes still closed.

"Promise me something, Dipper," she said, holding her hand out to him. Instinctively, Dipper took it, feeling her fingers clasp with his.

"Promise you what?"

"Will you stay with me here?"

Dipper thought for a moment of Gravity Falls, and how desperately he wished he could promise to stay in the central Oregon town, solving mysteries and studying the unknown. It wasn't just the feeling of purpose, it was the feeling of community. Belonging. Pacifica was just the last straw.

As much as he knew it would break his twin sister's heart, he just couldn't go back to Piedmont now. When the winter break was over, he wasn't getting on that bus again.

The winter break.

"Pacifica, where are we?" Dipper cautiously repeated his question, suddenly growing suspicious of the warm glow of the summer sun and the Midwestern fields of grain surrounding them. His question seemed to disrupt the scene around him, suddenly the fields of wheat began to list back and forth like a metronome, no longer responding to the breeze but moving on their own. The music listing from far away began to grow louder, but as it increased in volume, it also became more discordant and ominous.

"You're safe with me here. Would I ever lie to you…"

Pacifica's hand gripped Dipper's tightly. Painfully. A cold chill ran down Dipper's spine.

"Pine Tree?"

Pacifica slowly turned to face Dipper, her eyelids sliding back to reveal glowing yellow eyes with narrow slits of void. Her hand, no longer bound by physical reality, wrapped itself around Dipper's arm over and over, locking him into a vice grip.

The warm breeze grew hot without warning, and suddenly the well-kept clothes draped over Dipper's body grew wet and heavy with sweat. The gorgeous sunset cracked and fell from the sky like plaster, revealing a blood-red sky that burned as bright with unearthly intensity. The fields of wheat caught fire, the flames rising twice as high as Dipper, but shaded an inky black.

And above it all loomed a growing shadow, the shape of which was all too familiar to Dipper.

"This isn't real!" Dipper screamed, squinting as the scene around him burned his retinas. "You're dead!"

"Maybe you're right, Dipsqueak, maybe this is all a dream," came a familiar, shrill voice, booming from all directions. "But if you're wrong, you won't know the difference until it's too late!"

The gigantic, looming obelisk of Bill Cipher raised his fists over his triangle form and brought them down into the earth with a thundering crack. The ground split from under Dipper and the puppet Pacifica, dropping them into an inky void. Scrambling, Dipper tried to free himself from the creature's grip, but the creature held firm, pulling him close just as a giant, molten boulder careened in their direction.

"Say hi to Pacifica for me," the creature mocked from Pacifica's own mouth, just as the weight of the boulder-

"Aaaaaghhh!"

Dipper bolted straight up, gasping for breath. He spun around, first grasping at his left arm, then at his chest, then the mattress below him. He was cold, no longer under the quilts necessary to sleep comfortably in the attic of the Mystery Shack in winter. Around him, he recognized various familiar objects around the room as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. The beams that made up the structure of the room. The haphazard wall decorations left over from abandoned Mystery Shack attractions. And the triangle shaped window letting in the faint glow of the moon, the source of what little light Dipper could see.

He began to quickly run through the events of his dream, trying to focus on the details. But they drifted further away the harder he focused on them, leaving him with nothing but a racing heart to remind him of why he was wide awake.

Dipper turned back to his left, now looking across the room at his twin sister Mabel's bed. But instead of seeing her unconscious form under a mound of blankets, he found her peering out from under the covers back at him.

"Hey Dipper," she began nervously, "a little constructive criticism here. Can you maybe have nightmares in a way that won't also give me nightmares?"