It hadn't been a simple decision to leave California and his family and his sister to go spend the holidays in Gravity Falls with Wendy. But that was the decision he had made, and by the time he was really starting to question whether or not it was the right one, he had already crossed the state line into Oregon, and the rumble of the bus's engine had lulled him halfway to sleep. Thoughts like his parents' and his grandparents' disappointment at his absence, thoughts like Mabel wishing he could be there to see her new Hanukkah sweater, thoughts like the price of the bus fare, thoughts like the incomprehensible breadth of miles increasing between him and home, thoughts like the knowledge that the Corduroys had 'apocalypse training' instead of any kind of holiday celebration, thoughts like he wasn't prepared, thoughts like high clouds and dark trees and rare sun, these were the thoughts drifting through his head. Thoughts like he was right. Thoughts like he was wrong.

It was a starless night outside the bus, so all he could see beyond the window was a foot and a half of whirling snowflakes, and his own reflection, both layers tinted a grim color by the bus's pinkish interior lights. Crystals of frost were growing on the outside of the window, his breath was condensing on the inside of the window, and he was fast asleep a minute later, and his dreams were sad and lonely and brave and cold, cold, a terrible and cutting cold that pierced to the bone, clawed like an eagle's talons. His dream was a walking dream, while Wendy called him forward and Mabel called him back. The wind was calling too, but not in any specific direction. It just called.

The dawn came around 8:00, he woke up around 8:30, the bus left him at the stop around 9:00, and Wendy met him around 9:01. He almost didn't recognize her at first, beneath the layers of unfamiliar winter clothes, the gloves twice the size of her hands, the grey jacket and the baggy pants. It was only her face by which he identified her, peaking out from the middle of the hood. There was a light in her eyes and a smile on her lips, and he only barely had time to recognize her before she grabbed him in a hug and lifted him off the ground. "EEEEEYY It's good to see you man!" She hollered as she twirled him around. Her words were drowned out for a split second by the hissing of the bus's brakes as it moved off down the road. "How's it been going?"

"It's been going good!" She hugged her back until she set him back down. His backpack threatened to tip him over as he landed but he managed to catch himself. The ground was icy. He took a deep breath of the chill air as he shrugged the pack higher onto his shoulders and tightened the straps. "Good to see you too! I've really been missing this place! And, uh, and you, and everyone. How about you? How have you been?"

"Oh, same, you know how it is!" She punched him in the shoulder. Her breath crystallized in the air in front of her smile, and for just a moment, she looked to him like the most beautiful thing in the world. "Same as last time you were here, same as last time you called, same... I mean, what changes, man? School still sucks, weather still sucks, life's going great."

"Mood." He agreed, even though school had never really sucked that much for him, and the weather wasn't too bad, was it? It had stopped snowing, at least. "Anyway, I packed as best I could, I got my whole winter... Outfit. On." He gestured inclusively to his heavy jacket, heavy boots, three pants, and gloves, and took some reassurance that she was dressed similarly. "And uhhh toothbrush and sleeping bag and stuff. Is there anything else I need? I've never gone hiking in the winter."

"Nah, you're good. And if you're not, don't worry, we don't set out until after breakfast, and dad'll get you squared away once we get to the house." She led the way toward the Corduroy truck, parked on the roadside. "You got a change of clothes at least?"

"Yeah."

"Eh." She gave a dismissive shrug as they climbed into the truck. "You'll be fine." She was right, she was wrong.

As Dipper tossed his backpack into the back seat and made to close the door, his vision was almost completely obscured for a moment as a gust of wind pushed the vapor of his exhale back into his face. He blinked for just a moment, almost startled, and then as his breath dissipated, his eyes landed on the forest.

The forest.

It was the same forest he'd known before. The same valley, the same cliffs, the same mountains, same dome, same trees, same grass and ferns, he recognized that bend in the road, and that sign, and that water tower. But at the same time, this couldn't be the same place. Could it? The old woods were green, green and brown, and crowned with gold beneath a blue sky. These woods were grey. Grey within grey, grey as pale as snow on the fingertips of the trees and grass, grey as dark as night in the spaces beneath. The sky was grey too, no blue, no shapes of clouds, no penetrating ray of sunshine, all the world stood as if encased in prison.

It was beautiful, to be sure. Beautiful as art. But Dipper couldn't shake the nonsensical feeling that the bus had taken him to some alternative reality, some timeline where the bombs had dropped or the sun had gone out or time had frozen, that his eyes were seeing some grim warning vision and not reality. As he gazed out at that sight that used to look like a playground or a second home or some magnificent untold adventure waiting to happen, he thought, at this moment, that it looked something more like an enemy; a world-sized monster, some overbearing rival of mankind itself. He found himself sizing it up.

As Wendy watched him doing so, watched his eyes travel the landscape with a look so needlessly grim and fearless, for just a moment, he looked to her like the most handsome thing in the world. "Eh, I guess the weather's not so bad." She shrugged.

"...Yeah." He finally climbed fully inside and closed the door. "Not so bad at all." He was right, he was wrong. They rolled off down the road, toward the tall old woods where the Corduroy cabin lay hidden.


Dipper had been expecting some sort of grim, apprehensive, even frightened mood when they entered the house, (the whole 'apocalypse' motif having prepared him for the worst) but was pleasantly surprised to find the place full of laughter. Dan was bent over the stove cooking pancakes and shoveling nuts into bags, while the boys zipped around the house with their backpacks, thinking and rethinking and packing and repacking. Conversation loud and boisterous filled the air, about past trips and future trips and present trips, about weather and trees and old campfire stories and whatever else lumberjacks and mountain men talk about. Wendy joined right back in with it too, reminding her dad to bring the jerky, telling her brother to find the radio, getting told by another brother to bring an extra jacket, and all five of them were arguing about whether one person should carry all the toilet paper, or whether they should all bring their own, or whether they should just rough it off the land and wipe with leaves.

Somehow, though was no tree in the house, and no presents or decorations or cookies or little colored lights either, something about the joy and the togetherness of it all struck Dipper as belonging to a Christmas mood.

"YOU." Dan boomed down in Dipper's direction. He spun with a start to look up into the enormous man's face. "You got a knife on ya, boy?"

"Uh y-yeah. Got one right here." He nodded.

"Got matches?"

"Nope."

"You'll need matches." Dan tapped one enormous finger on a paper on the fridge; a packing list. "Need all this on here. Ask Wendy if you don't know where anything is."

"Awesome. Okay." As Dipper joined the rush, a smile touched his face, and he began to suspect that this would be a good Christmas after all. Different, for sure, different of course, but it may not be so hard, it might not be so worse. This was family, after all, a very close and loving family, and when a family is close and loving, nothing that ever happens to it seems quite so bad.

And besides, Christmas was more than just presents and decorations, wasn't it? More than just a few colorful nonsense traditions. A lot more.

But without all that, what was it exactly?

They were all packed by the time pancakes were done (As they had to be. Part of the Corduroy tradition was to leave immediately after breakfast no matter what; in a real apocalypse they wouldn't have much more warning than that, after all.) With Wendy's help Dipper had managed to get packed with everything on Dan's list, all except for a compass; the family had only six, and the sixth wasn't for using. He'd just finished zipping up his pack by the time breakfast was ready. The warm smell drew them together into the kitchen, and they set in.

"What was your name again?" Dipper looked up from his pancakes to see Wendy's youngest brother frowning across the table at him, mumbling words through a full mouth.

"Dipper." He nodded, and realized he'd never actually talked with any of Wendy's brothers, and didn't actually know anything about any of them. "...I never got you guy's names?"

"I'm Gus." The 11-year-old pointed a pair of thumbs in his own direction. "I'm the cool one."

"And I'm Marcus." Said the 15-year-old, and extended a hand to shake Dipper's. "I'm the actual cool one."

"I'm Wendy." Said Wendy, not even looking up from her phone. "I'm your girlfriend."

"I'm Kevin." Said the 13-year-old. He glanced Dipper up and down. "I bet I could take you."

That took Dipper off-guard.

Wendy snorted.

"Hey, be nice." Marcus snapped. "He's a guest!"

"You be nice." Kevin retorted.

"Everyone fight!" Gus cheered.

"EVERYONE BE NICE!" Dan thundered.

Silence descended rather immediately. u could take him. Wendy texted Dipper under the table.

Not gonna try? ? ? He texted back.

By 10:00 their packs and supplies were all stacked in the back of the truck, and they were underway.

By 10:30 the truck was parked and locked at the end of a narrow logging road, with six sets of footprints leading away from it, deeper into the woods.

That was Friday, the 20th of December. Next week on Wednesday would be Christmas. The very next day, Saturday, was the solstice, when the days would be the shortest of the year and the sun would be dimmest, and the things the light drives out would feel most free to rise.

By 11:00 they were out of range of the cell towers, and there was nobody who could help them.

The sun flared yellow through the briefest gap in the overcast sky.

The wind howled.

A tree broke and fell with nobody to hear it.

The spirit heard it.


Author's Note:

Merry Christmas everyone! Had a flash of inspiration for a Gravity Falls story that wouldn't really work in an original universe, so here I am, back at fanfiction. Hope you'll enjoy this one. It's a weird one.