Over a soaked tree he pushed himself. He landed with a loud crunch atop branches. He glanced around, as he had so many times before, begging his eyes to spot a trail of red hair, or green shirt; anything of her to keep the quest alive.
"Wendy, where are you?" Dipper grunted to himself as he pushed onward.
What had begun as a promising but daunting venture into the woods had only become increasingly cold and wet. To Dipper, the shuddering breath and quaking numbness of his fingers only drove him further and further. Nearly an hour of searching had amounted to absolutely nothing. He wouldn't stop trying.
She was somewhere out here. Dipper felt it deep in his gut, a painful knot that only grew harder and thicker the longer it took him to find her. Wendy was a lost soul, his friend, who spent her time hiding in the woods like a reject of some kind. He couldn't stand the idea that Wendy, the 'too cool for school' girl (as Mabel put it), could see this as her home. No walls or ceiling or warmth. Just cold, wet, wilderness.
What if she didn't need to feel warmth? Dipper paused for a moment as he pushed past a tree, feeling the cold trickle against his knuckles run down his arm. What if this, all this horrible wet and cold rain, was nothing to Wendy?
He couldn't leave it to chance. Even if she could deal with the cold, it was lonely.
Dipper knew about loneliness. He had gone through several years of it, without a part of his life crucial to his being. Living two years without constantly seeing Mabel, as he had discovered this summer, had been worse than he had imagined. Now that they were together again, Dipper could feel the memory of having to make friends slowly no longer as an accomplishment, but a crippling fear. Going back without Mabel...
He shook his head as he pushed forward again. He already had a task at hand. Distracting himself and dwelling on the past could be done at a time less dire. His friend was missing, and he was going to find her.
"Wendy!" he called out. Dipper cupped his hands to his mouth this time, and shouted. "Wendy!"
Still nothing. Gritting his teeth and tossing his head back and forth to remove the rain on his face, Dipper ran forward. He would find her. He had to!
What kind of friend let another suffer? Be alone? Even the friend who held secrets...
"Who cares?" Dipper said to himself as he remembered the pain of being lied to so many times. Each time she said she went home; it had just been a straight lie. She had come out here, into these woods, or the graveyard. Her hesitation to meet with friends or see anyone in the town, was another lie; one to keep herself at distance with those who knew what had happened to her. She could stitch cuts so well, and Dipper wondered if she hadn't tried that on herself many times.
Dipper stumbled over a thicket and caught himself by a tree. The pulsing pain in his chest as he piled these feelings on top of one another began too much to bear. With an outcry, he struck at the tree with his fist. "Damn it!" he roared, and then winced. Punching a tree didn't do him any favors. Now he was cold, wet, and had a throbbing hand.
"Just got to keep going, keep looking," he mumbled to himself, shaking his hand from the pain. It was something new aside from all the heavy cold water, and Dipper found it a strange release. Maybe he needed to punch trees more often.
"Wendy!" he called as he ran. His mind blessed Mabel for pushing him to work out with her as much as she had. "Wendy!" he called again. A bush before him presented no challenge. With a heft grunt, Dipper leapt over the four-foot-tall collection of thorny branches.
The he nearly landed onto a very short man with a red cap.
"Whoa!"
Both figures fell. Dipper stumbled and rolled to the muddy ground, splashing the forest around him with dirt and water. After spitting what felt like a nice mouthful of mud from his mouth, Dipper slowly stood and turned.
The figure cried out in exasperation before saying, "Well, of course the one human who'd nearly run me over would be you, Dipper Pines."
Dipper blinked. That voice hadn't changed in three years. Brown hair and beard, barely at his knees, and his hands at his hips, Dipper quickly remembered who he was looking at. And if memory served, that meant he was very, very deep into the Gravity Falls woods.
"Jeff," Dipper mumbled as he stood up.
"Aw, you remembered. I'm touched," Jeff the Gnome rolled his eyes, "I had heard you and Mabel came back. Now you're running around the woods like you used to. Just great."
"What are you talking about?" Dipper rubbed off the mud from his face and then pants, staring at the gnome.
"Word spreads. Especially when there's an uneasy peace between Goblins and Gnomes," Jeff said, "Makes it easy for rumors to get around. So, they weren't lying. Oh well. They usually do," Jeff said to the side, leaving Dipper to stare at him.
"What do you want, Jeff?" Dipper scolded him.
"What do I want?! You nearly ran me over for pete's sake!" Jeff shouted at Dipper, his smaller, mildly high-pitched voice echoing around. A rustle in the bushes caught Dipper's attention, and he spotted another gnome poke his head out. "No, no, Peter, everything is fine. I'll catch up with you – keep looking for those deer droppings." The other gnome glanced at Dipper, hissed, and then darted back inside the bushes.
Dipper blinked and stared at Jeff. "You collect deer-"
"What do you want?" Jeff demanded of Dipper, his dark eyes scanning the teenager's form. "Trying to find new ways to get taller?"
"That's called puberty," Dipper sighed.
"Whatever. You're the one crashing around the forest like a blind doe. Nearly crushed me," Jeff reminded him. "So, what do you want? Huh?"
There was little to not trust about the gnomes. Experience had made the Pines and the collective of small magical men in the woods enemies. That said, Dipper knew that the gnomes didn't go out of their way to upset anyone; not without proper provocation. Dipper scowled; maybe Jeff had seen Wendy. "I'm looking for someone," he told the gnome.
"Oh yeah, try anywhere else except the woods if you're looking for normal human people," Jeff nodded, his wide eyes conveying a bitter response. "These woods aren't safe for your type."
"Like I don't know that," Dipper replied. "I'm not looking for a human anyway," Dipper added quietly. Jeff had begun to turn away, walking to the bushes his friend Peter had vanished into. At the second half of Dipper's words, he shook and glanced back at Dipper, his eyes squinted. "What?" Dipper approached him.
"Nothing."
"Liar," Dipper called him out, "You've seen something."
"Dipper, I'm a gnome. When people say they've seen something, they usually mean me," Jeff retorted, but swallowed, "Unless you're talking about the dead girl."
Dipper gasped. "Wendy?!" Dipper kneeled down to Jeff. "Red headed girl?"
The gnome grinned and crossed his arm. "What's it to you? You going to finally come through with your promise and hook me up with a proper queen?"
Dipper's mouth dropped open. "You went back on that promise when you helped Gideon!" Dipper exclaimed, heat on his neck. "Where did you see Wendy?!"
"I want to know what I stand to gain if I help you at all," Jeff asked of Dipper. This was not one of the days in which Dipper was willing to hear out someone else's requests. Not when another person's well-being was possibly on the line. With a growl, he reached out, grabbed Jeff by the shoulders and lifted him into the air. The gnome yelped and kicked his legs as he saw the ground beneath him grow further away. "P-put me down, you maniac!"
"I'm not as strong as my sister, Jeff," Dipper told him, his tone as cold as the rain soaking into his hat, "But I think I have an advantage here. My friend is out there, and I want to know–" Jeff laughed. "What's funny?!" Dipper demanded with a shake.
"Your friend? Really? That's adorable!" Jeff shook his head, but still stared at Dipper, studying his expression. Dipper made his best attempt at a poker face, but had no effect on Jeff. He nodded. "Oh, you don't know? What happens to those types of undead?"
"Pretend I don't, and remind me," Dipper said.
Jeff looked around. "Put me down, and maybe I will," the said to Dipper, "But consider it an IOU after this. You'll owe me."
"Consider it even for me avoiding crushing you when I leapt over the bush," Dipper demanded.
Jeff squeezed his eyes and growled. "Fine! Now put me down already!"
Dipper obliged the small creature. Nearly dropping him to the ground, Dipper stepped back and patted his foot against the ground. Jeff was at his mercy, and Dipper was feeling rather controlling. He had been running around without a hope of finding Wendy, and now he had someone under his thumb. He would be keeping him there for just long enough to get some information out of.
Jeff glared up at Dipper as he got back on his stubby legs. "Do you even know what a wraith is?"
"Undead. Somewhere between a ghost and a human," Dipper answered.
Jeff shrugged. "I've heard better explanations, but it's not wrong," Jeff leaned against a tree, and began to pick at his nails as he spoke. "A wraith is a failure. It's the broken cousin to a Wight, and the lesser of a Lich."
"Wait, Wights and Liches are also real!?" Dipper gasped. Jeff grinned, showing a row of sharp teeth to Dipper. "Great. There are some nasty things out there."
"Used to be, kid," Jeff corrected him. "There hasn't been one of those things in hundreds of years. Well, until that one kid started running around here a few years ago."
"Wendy!" Dipper angrily corrected him, "Her name is Wendy!"
"Won't matter in the long run," Jeff shrugged, "She's probably already left the woods by now."
"How could you... what do you mean?" Dipper asked. His breathing hastened as he listened, aware of each word Jeff said.
"There's a curse to those three types of undead," Jeff explained in a tired, slow voice. He sounded uninterested, but Dipper was certain that in those eyes held a morbid excitement. Perhaps it was knowing something that Dipper did not. Jeff remarked, "You see, most undead that are physical, you know- skeletons, zombies, ghouls- those rotten guys? They are just bodies. No sense of self."
"Ghosts know who they once were," Dipper reminded him.
Jeff sighed. "Well, a wraith, wight, and lich aren't ghosts, are they?" Jeff poked at him verbally. "They're the mix. They keep their form, but aren't alive. They keep their mind, but..."
"But what?"
"But they lose it over time," Jeff sighed.
"That's not true," Dipper said, "Wendy's been dead for almost three years and-"
"She tell you how horrible it is?" Jeff asked Dipper. "How she can't eat? Drink? Sleep? Hmm?" Dipper sealed his mouth. Jeff was annoying, but he was a source of information Fords journals had not provided so far. "That's the curse. The curse of un-life. If you keep you keep your mind and body, they never synch up. A living mind in a dead body can't understand why it's not acting the same. It'll still want to do the things it needs to do while alive."
"So slowly, over time, the mind begins to make assumptions, and changes. They can't dream or sleep, so their mind begins to go crazy. Your little friend, redhead?" Jeff pointed to Dipper, "She's started. It could take two years or ten years, but one day, she's going to snap and no longer be human."
Dipper felt colder with that information than any rain he had felt that day. "You... you're lying," he stammered.
"You really think so? Too bad," Jeff shrugged, "Or maybe you don't like the truth. Maybe you should look up a story? The story of the Shadow of the Alps?" Jeff asked. When Dipper said nothing, he chuckled. "Doesn't really matter. Your friend's a walking time bomb."
"No, I'm going to help her," Dipper said proudly. "I'm not letting her go through this alone. I'll cure her."
Jeff snorted. "You're kidding, right? Kid, have you done any research into these things? Wraiths? Wights? Liches?" Dipper growled, and Jeff nodded his head. "Unprepared. Not surprising for you kids. Maybe if you had, you'd know that there is no cure."
Dipper's body shook. He struggled to stand for a second. "W-what do you mean?" Dipper asked, the strength in his body departing as he considered all the promises he made to himself; to find Wendy, to help her.
They all felt so distant now.
Jeff held up a finger, pointing to Dipper. "These curses are made by spells. Old, dark, man-made spells," Jeff told him, "And they're the kind of magic that can't be undone. No one knows the kind of magic anymore. Maybe go back three hundred years," Jeff shrugged, "You could find someone who could help, but these days? She's doomed."
"No," Dipper shook his head.
"Yup. Sorry," Jeff sighed, "If she leaves, she'll have a better chance to not hurt people she cares about. Otherwise, she'll end up on the other end of a fire. The only real cure for those things, after all-"
"Shut up!" Dipper roared. He would not stand to let anyone call his friend a 'thing'. He rushed forward and aimed his foot right in the mouth of Jeff. The gnome, for his own dental health's sake, dodged and rolled into the bushes.
"Face it, Dipper!" Jeff's voice echoed as the gnome slowly departed into the woods, out of sight, "One day, she'll be a feral monster. You think you're so good at hunting monsters? Go right ahead; deal with her next!" Jeff's voice roared at Dipper. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have more important things to do."
Dipper stood rooted to the spot, shaking as he felt the patter of rain hit his hat. "Yeah!? Well, you better go! I'm sure deer crap is more important than... Screw you!" Dipper yelled. With little breath in his body, he stumbled backwards and hit his shoulder against a tree, halting his progress.
The world was spinning around Dipper.
Why had he asked for Jeff's help? It had entirely worked against him.
He was so far now, so far away from his plan. There wasn't a hope in sight to get Wendy back now.
Was she really destined to go crazy?
I can't eat, I can't drink! I can't even sleep. I want to! So badly!
Her voice drifted in his head. Dipper gulped as he felt the lump in his throat grow. Jeff had said it- Wendy had already started the process of losing herself.
I'm just stuck like this! Stuck forever hungry, and thirsty, and tired!
Dipper wanted to go home. He wanted to be warm. He wanted so much to be different now. The inevitability of losing Wendy to a disease-like-curse was awful. The reminder that he would leave this summer and lose Mabel was hiding in there too, chipping away at his bravery. Dipper rested against the tree, staring at the puddles of mud around him.
Minutes later of hearing nothing but the falling of rain and the echoes of a tortured friend in his head, Dipper swallowed the lump in his throat painfully.
He turned off the tree and started heading back to his car.
Pacifica Northwest patted her fingers against the table as she swirled her complimentary glass of water between her two fingers. Before her in the dark room of the restaurant lay the table, and a currently empty seat. Several breadsticks covered with shaved truffle and garlic perfumed the air, but did not comfort her.
The date hadn't gone as well as she had planned.
Not for her lack of trying though. She had made certain to get a more private table in the restaurant, and provide anything to her date that he would need. But, as it would seem, her date had a streak for getting sick a the perfectly wrong times. She would ask him "So tell me about your family?" and Yuki, or Uik-Dohth as he informed her once, had instantly gone pink and rushed away to the bathrooms. Pacifica later asked if he was feeling sick. His answer was to run off again, and then come limping back, claiming to have something along the lines of 'worms'. He had even collapsed over a part of the rug, and Pacifica had helped him back to his seat.
Pacifica's instincts kicked in the last time Yuki had run off. These kinds of things only seemed to happen when someone, or a pair of someone's, were around.
Finally, he came walking back, and sat down next to her, huffing into his seat.
"Another apology," Yuki muttered bashfully as he took the water before him and drained it again. "I am also suffering from chronic dehydration."
"Right," Pacifica nodded as she eyed her date.
"It couples badly with my worms, and, uh, allergy to certain perfumes," Yuki stumbled for words as Pacifica played with the rim of her water glass.
"I bet," she nodded.
"Yes..."
Pacifica sat still, holding her glass before her as she studied Yuki. His eyes were wide as they were pretty. Was it really contacts he put in? Pacifica had asked him about the color of his eyes, and she had only been told that he wore contacts. Yet she couldn't make out the lining. They were a higher quality than she could have anticipated.
Yet her patience ran thin. "Yuki," she finally said as he slowly reached out for one of the breadsticks.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled and withdrew his hand like lightning, "I am unaware of hu- err- American eating customs."
"Yuki," Pacifica sighed and shook her head, "What is going on with you?"
If Pacifica had been one of those freaks in the woods, she may not have been tempted to laugh. Yuki froze so instantly and entirely; she wasn't sure if he had been petrified or not. The boy before her had locked up so stiffly, it was a miracle he could move again afterwards.
A moment later he blinked and let himself slowly adjust himself. "Whatever do you mean?" he asked quietly.
"You've been acting weird since we got here," she said, putting down her glass, less to distract him with. Yuki gulped and she nodded. "See? You froze up there," Pacifica nodded, "And now you're acting like you're hiding something."
"Ah. Not at all, I assure you," Yuki as he played with the edges of his hat.
Meanwhile, overhearing all of this, Mabel Pines hid directly underneath the table.
It had been a risky procedure. In between the three trips back to the storage rooms, Mabel had acquired a notepad and pencil, and began to doodle between Yuki's updates. When Yuki came in the last time, hyperventilating and scared stiff that he wasn't lying properly, Mabel had asked why.
"How many diseases did you tell her you had!?" Mabel had asked.
"Four," she had been told.
Mabel needed a new plan. So, with an easy bait of Yuki falling, Mabel would sneak behind them and stage dive right under the table and tucker up by Yuki's feet. Now she resided, fueled to not fail her friend, in-between them.
Above, Pacifica wasn't done. "I mean, I've spent some time with you, Yuki. You're shy, I get it," she shrugged, "But you're acting jumpier than I've ever seen you before."
"I am merely experiencing the symptoms of-"
"You aren't sick, Yuki," Pacifica told him with a strong voice.
Yuki leaned back and rapped his fingers against the edge of the table. "I... uh..." he glanced down, where Mabel had been hastily scribbling a response. He squinted for a moment as he read. "No. I am not."
"Then tell me what's up?"
"The truth?" he asked her. She nodded and edged closer to the end of her seat. "I have been worried."
"About?" Pacifica asked quickly.
"This," Yuki glanced back down to the notepad Mabel held at his seat level, "The date. I do not wish to mess it up."
"Aww, Yuki," Pacifica shook her head, "Don't worry so much. There's nothing to worry about."
"That is harder said than done," he assured her.
"Why?"
"I hold the belief that much, uh, 'rides' upon this encounter between us," Yuki said as he fidgeted with his fingers.
"What? What are you talking about?" Pacifica asked, leaning closer. Mabel held back a giggle. It was odd hearing Pacifica use a voice that wasn't commanding, and even weirder speak in a sincere tone. There were bubbling little happy faces all in Mabels' mind. Pacifica really cared for Yuki. Her trance of happiness was broken when she caught a glance from Yuki, who leaned back and stared down at Mabel.
With a quick scribble, she wrote 'chat about your situation in a human way'.
Yuki's face trembled. "What?" he whispered to her. The fearful hesitation from the alien was only met by Mabel's' encouraging nod. Finally, he nodded.
"Yuki, are you okay? You keep looking at your feet," Pacifica noted.
"It, um, helps me think? Yes. That it does," Yuki shrugged. "You see, Pacifica, I... well, the truth is..."
Mabel watched from her spot, staring up at her friend. Her hopefulness grew to anxiety as his face grew pinker and brighter, the blush growing to consume his entire face. Was this more personal than Mabel had anticipated? Yuki couldn't seem to come to terms with the idea of telling anyone else his story. He wasn't the most imaginative of people when it came to split second decisions. Maybe this was a bad idea. Mabel blinked and erased what she had written. Maybe she could quickly give him a new note.
Yuki had begun to speak. "I, well, I came to America as... my father, you see..." Yuki gulped and looked around.
"Yuki?" Pacifica asked again, in what Mabel found as the softest she had ever been heard.
"Honestly, Pacifica," Yuki leaned on the table with his elbows, putting his hand into his face, "I... I would like to have this date with you. But I was hoping that maybe, uh, we could go somewhere more private?"
Based on how Pacifica's feet shuffled and went mildly rigid, this idea passed through Pacifica like a streak of lightning. Above the table, Pacifica's eyes went wide, and her confusion was erased and replaced with a patch of faint pink on her cheeks.
Yuki quickly added, "But, only if you wish. This atmosphere, the American, sorry, the French cuisine intimidates me, I think-"
"Of course!" Pacifica shot out of her seat with a kick, landing a solid kick in Mabel's face. Mabel gasped and landed roughly against Yuki's seat, who also gasped loudly and stood up. "Oh! Yuki, sorry!" Pacifica quickly stepped to be aside him, putting her hands on his shoulder. "I didn't mean to kick you. Are you okay?"
"Uh," Yuki glanced back to Mabel as she held her cheek in her hands. The throbbing pain was merely a distraction for Mabel, as she held up a thumb to her side, letting her friend know her status was manageable. "Yes," Yuki said, looking at Mabel, "You merely grazed me."
"I felt like I kicked in your knee," Pacifica told him, "God, I could have hurt you. You're sure it's okay?"
"I am much sturdier than I look. Well, physically at least," Yuki chuckled.
Pacifica grinned and pointed to a waiter. When he noticed, Pacifica told him, "We're leaving. Just bill my folks whatever you need, they won't care," she waved to them nonchalantly.
Mabel gave the retreating couple a good thirty feet before crawling her way out from under the table. She could feel the large red welt on her face where a heel had dug into her cheek. Giving herself a quick fan from her hands, she checked around. No one seemed to have noticed her departure. Unhindered, she hurried after the date.
Only mildly confusing the two imported French hosts at the front of the restaurant, Mabel found herself back outside the enclosed and private atmosphere and into the realm of public shopping mall. Ahead of her, happily moving towards the exit were her friends; one aware of her presence, the other still not.
Mabel's hearing was throbbing with her heartbeat. This was uncharted territory now; no longer did the date follow the guidelines. They were doing their own thing, and Mabel would have to improv to help out her friend. She had to be there, just in case she was needed. So far, he had been begging for her advice. She wasn't ready to abandon him to the wills of the mysterious gods of dating, especially the cherubs.
Yet Mabel's desperation would be tested. No sooner had she spotted them leaving the front doors to the street than she remembered they had something that Mabel did not- a Limo.
"Crumbwiskers!" Mabel gasped as she took off in a sprint, closing the distance from herself to the doors. At the large glass paneling, she only just spotted the two in the car, and they drove off. "Not on my watch! You haven't escaped me yet!"
Mabel, ignoring the heavy raindrops of the warming day, took charge. Sneakers against the soaked sidewalk, she charged forward, trying to following that easily identified black limousine. Those who dared to forget to heed the pounding steps of Mabel Pines soon met a soaked fate. She collided into any who didn't move, suddenly quite the powerhouse. Mabel was desperate to keep up. Even with the red lights that kept stalling the ride, Mabel found it hard to maintain a distance she felt was safe.
"Sorry!" she exclaimed loudly as she passed none other than Omir Steindorf and a hooded accomplice. The old man gasped and spun, holding his umbrella over his head while grasping onto the shoulder of his friend. "Sorry!" Mabel gasped again, nearly running into the other.
"Be careful!" he shouted at her, his impressive voice less angered than she expected, "The sidewalks are slippery today!"
"Thanks!" she called back with a curt wave. Mabel spotted the limo turn down a street, one that would lead towards the hills to the Northwest Manor. "Dang it all! Fairies of luck, you better help a girl out!"
To her immense pleasure, the Limo was stalled. A long line of police cruisers, their sirens blaring, all blew past the last street the vehicle had to cross before heading up the hill. It was long enough for Mabel to catch up with the car. Then, with her heart nearly freezing, she saw Yuki and Pacifica step out.
"Stealth tactic four!" Mabel gasped. Without hesitation, she wheeled about, turned, and dived into the nearest trashcan.
Her head slowly emerged from a pile of peeled bananas, peering at the two who seemed to be speaking to the driver. "What are you two planning?" she mumbled. This turned out to be a mistake, as then one of the peels slipped into a corner of her mouth. "Ew! No! Gross! Bad banana! Blech!"
Mabel spat and wiped away at her mouth as quietly as she could. Given a moment to check the sanitary levels of her lips, Mabel was satisfied. She then spotted the two walking across the street to a path. Mabel blinked. She had seen that path before- Dipper and Pacifica had gone on it a few times when they dated years ago.
"So, the scenic route, ehh?" she asked with a smirk.
She too followed across the road, making sure to remain at chest-level height. Crouched over and checking all around her to ensure total un-detection, Mabel slinked into the vegetation around her.
It was only her luck that she was able to remain at all warm in the day's rain. What had once been a cold, unforgiving rain now was mild and almost pleasant. Several chances for her to wash out the grime and filth from the garbage presented themselves and she took them without hesitation. After all, she was stealthy enough for the two to be unaware of her presence- what was the risk in using a line of wild cabbage to wipe off her forehead.
"Ah, nice and fresh," she said after taking one of the cabbage leafs and chewing on it.
Her footsteps remain quiet and well chosen. Without knowing it, Arline had taught her apprentice much in the art of stealth; an irony considering the tactics of those who drift towards the path of fire. Yet a good five minutes of following Yuki and Pacifica into the woods, she stalled. They were only a few feet away.
"See?" Pacifica said.
"I do," Yuki said, his voice no longer sounding remotely constrained. He spun about, taking deep breaths, all while holding an umbrella for Pacifica.
"I can take it now, if you'd like," Pacifica said to him.
"I was under the impression that a good date provides for the other," Yuki pointed out.
Pacifica chuckled and gently took the umbrella. "Yeah, but you told me you love the rain. I don't want to hold you back."
"You would not..." Yuki stared at her as she took the umbrella and held it above for the both of them. Yet he chuckled. "That is not what I meant," he said, and took a step away. She followed him, trying to ensure his level of dryness remained constant. "No, no, please stay still." She stared at him, but nodded. With a sigh, Yuki stepped back and stood in the rain. "A good rainfall."
Pacifica giggled, "You're so weird."
Yuki stared up at the clouds as he let the water hit his face. Mabel was shocked at how much his skin shone when water fell down his face. The color of his skin darkened as the light reflected off the paths of water down his skin. Pacifica noticed too. Like Mabel, the blond said nothing.
"There is nothing strange about finding peace in a world's nature," Yuki told her as he pulled his face back to Pacifica. He turned about, "Is it not easier to think here?"
"I guess," Pacifica shrugged.
Yuki looked concerned with her answer. "You guess?"
"I don't know. I've seen the stuff that lives in these woods," Pacifica shuddered, "I'm sure Dipper and Mabel showed you a few things. You know, non-humans," Pacifica pointedly asked.
Yuki blinked and looked away. "I, uh, suppose so."
"Besides, there are plenty of really quiet spots that aren't in woods. I mean, there's all that rain falling around, those annoying birds," Pacifica listed off, "Dogs barking or wolves howling. It's anything but quiet."
"I did not intend to imply the quiet," Yuki pointed out to her, "But the peace."
"Oh c'mon," Pacifica said to him, rolling her eyes, "There isn't peace here."
"There is not?" Yuki repeated.
"Animals are eating each other constantly, people are hunting in the woods, lightning could just hit a tree... you know, crazy nature things," Pacifica said. Yuki looked around, grinning as he gently shook his head. "I mean, let's be real here anyway – nature isn't peaceful."
"No?"
"Well, no. Like... ugh, never mind," Pacifica crossed her arms, still holding the umbrella above her, but barely.
"No, go on, please," Yuki encouraged her. Pacifica looked from the ground to her date, to the vegetation around her. Mabel gulped as she hid behind a tree. Pacifica's eyes seemed to fall by her, and Mabel slunk further in, but it was too late. The blond was already moving closer. To Mabel's great luck, Pacifica hadn't approached to find the girl, but instead pace for a chance to think.
Pacifica explained. "My dad told me that nature made people the way we are because that's the way it is in nature," she said, and bent low, picking up a ripe but fallen apple.
"Your father told you that?" Yuki asked.
"I don't like my dad much, but... he's got a point," Pacifica shrugged. "People and animals, like squirrels or whatever," she indicated with her hand as Mabel slowly stepped into a bush next to Pacifica, away from the tree while she wasn't looking, "Would see this apple tree. We were born with the need to survive, right? So, animals come and begin to eat these apples. So more and more would come until there were no more apples. That means this would be the last apple tree that would be here, and they would die out in this area," Pacifica explained. "I don't like my dad's idea, but he has a point. It's not really peaceful, is it?" she asked, and tossed him the apple.
Yuki caught the fruit and smiled. "True. This is very true," he nodded as he walked over, examining the apple tree, "But with animals, when a squirrel eats too much, they become slow and heavy, and a predatory animal swoops in, claiming it's meal. The over-consuming animal is removed and balance is restored."
"Well, humans don't have natural predators, do we?" Pacifica pointed out. "In the end, we're just greedy."
Yuki snorted. "No, I suppose you don't," he said, walking over and putting his hand against the tree. "I will admit, humans are young as a species. They tend to want to ensure success by accumulating for the now and their future."
"You know," Yuki suddenly turned to Pacifica, "There was a human who came up with theory – I was quite proud of it. It's called the Tragedy of the Commons."
"I've heard someone talk about it at my dad's ball before," Pacifica gasped, "Dad hates it."
Yuki seemed amused at that fact. "I suppose he might. The idea is that any limited resource- this tree for example and its fruit," Yuki gestured to the tree, "Will be used by humans. Humans will continue to use his as a food source. But as they grow comfortable in their consumption, others will see the benefit of taking more than they need – perhaps to stockpile, or perhaps to market for value. In the end, humans will overuse this resource until there is none, leaving the humans with nothing."
"I once thought that was the truth," Yuki shrugged, "Human beings are such a young race that they would not know when to stop eating and consuming and taking. I've seen it happen. Stanley Pines, I thought, was such a warning. But, you know," Yuki said to Pacifica, who stood rooted, listening to his words, "I've seen more of the opposite. There are, upon careful scrutiny of mankind, more who would share and monitor the resources of the Earth. A few bad apples, as I hear," Yuki grinned as he pushed aside a half-chewed on fruit to his foot, "Can spoil the bunch, but that's only if you let them."
Mabel silently beamed at Yuki. He was using so many expressions!
Pacifica nodded and smiled. "And how would you suggest us humans go about doing that?" she asked.
"Well, based on my studies of humanity, standing against – wait," Yuki gasped and cleared his throat, "I meant to say studies of history, not mankind."
Pacifica eyed him. "You sure?" Pacifica asked slyly.
The hair on Mabel's neck stood up. Pacifica was not dumb, and Yuki's words had not been carefully chosen at all. He had gotten too comfortable and careless, and she had heard what he said, plain as day. Yuki stared at his date, eyes wide and full of fear. Yet Pacifica watched back, observing her date easily and carefully.
After a long, pained pause, Pacifica said, "Let's play a game."
"Sure," Yuki quickly agreed, his word so fast it might have been a cough.
"It's called truth or dare."
"Ohhhh," Yuki said, looking around. Mabel wanted to present to him a sign of her presence. She was certain he was looking around for her, to hopefully help him with this game.
"You know how to play, right?" Pacifica asked.
"Yes," Yuki said with a nod and gulp.
"Well, you're my date, so you can go first," she offered him.
"Uh... okay," Yuki nodded, and tossed the apple right into the bush with Mabel, smacking her in her face. She winced and held her nose, which received the blunt of the damage. "Truth or dare... ah, yes, I know how to play this. Okay," he turned to Pacifica, her blue eyes captivated by his pacing as he slowly had become soaked by the rain. "Pacifica, I choose truth."
She chuckled. "You're so formal about it. Cute."
"Why did you bring me on this date?" he asked.
Pacifica whistled as he cheeks flushed gently. "You don't beat around the bush, do you?" she asked him.
"I fortunately know of that metaphor. No, I suppose not," he chuckled.
"Well..." Pacifica gave a pause, looking at him. "Because... I really like you," she said.
"Ah. That is fair," Yuki replied as he whipped around, his hand scratching at his hat. He had instantly become jittery again- his arms and legs trembling as his back seemed to collapse. Had it not become warmer out, Mabel would have sworn that Yuki was cold.
"Well, my turn," Pacifica said easily, shifting gently, and playing the end of the umbrella. "Hmm... take off your hat."
"W-what?!" Yuki gasped, and put his hands to his head.
"You don't have to," Pacifica told him, "But if you choose not to, you have to follow up a dare with two questions being answered truthfully." Yuki stared at her, his hands slowly falling from his head. A very slow nod was given to his date. "Okay, truth it is. Yuki... Yuki... Uki Dohth," she reiterated, "What do you really think of me?"
He somewhat relaxed at her first requested truth. "I think, uh," Yuki shrugged, "You hold amazing promise for a human being. You are sharp, adaptable, have skills in leadership, but have a sea of untapped talent that your parents refuse to acknowledge. I enjoy the time I spend with you, and I look forward to our discussions, as I feel I witness your mind grow and sharpen daily."
Mabel felt, perhaps for the first time, jealous about Yuki. That had been incredibly sweet. Did he think of everyone like that, or just Pacifica? In the end, what scorned away those feelings of want were Mabels delights at love conquering. Mabel could see the constrained sigh that Pacifica fought back. The girl's shoulders fell just enough for a trained match-maker to spot; Pacifica was totally smitten.
Pacifica cleared her throat. "Okay. My second question. Yuki… who are you really?"
Yuki stared at her, his eyes wider than ever before. "I d-don't understand."
Pacifica shook her head, and lowered the umbrella, letting her hair feel the drops of rain. "I mean I tried looking you up. I wanted to know which region and city of Canada you came from, so that when you went back, I could visit you. It's not hard for me- I've got the money. But when I checked with Canadian travel programs," she said to him, approaching him, "they were clear that there wasn't anyone by the name of Uki-Dohth who had traveled to America from Canada. Ever."
"H-h-hod odd," Yuki gulped.
"They even told me that Dohth isn't remotely Canadian, or Japanese," she said to him, not daring to break eye-contact with him. "So, I checked with the awful offices at Gravity Falls. All you got to do is tell them you're a student and they give you whatever, "she added after a shocked look from Yuki. "They made we wait a few days, but yesterday? After the party? They emailed me the whole list of names who had come by bus and were staying in Gravity Falls. Your name, Yuki, doesn't come up in anything. You just showed up out of the blue five weeks ago!" she accosted him, "And... I know another thing; you're friends with Mabel and Dipper."
Yuki watched her, his shocked eyes slowly shrinking in their massive, terrified size. Mabel could see that look in his face- the visage of a thinker. He wasn't just watching Pacifica ramble to him, he was taking in everything she said and coming to his own conclusions. Maybe, maybe Mabel reasoned, this would be one of the few times she had to break code and jump into the date. Yuki wanted to be left alone.
Then Yuki reached up and removed his hat.
It was only luck that Mabel gasped with Pacifica at the exact same time. There was no hiding the budding small plant-limbs in his hair that entwined themselves perfectly naturally. Pacifica took a step back from her date, a hand at her mouth.
"Y-Your hair," she pointed.
He took a deep sigh, and looked to the heavens above. Yuki let the rain splash into his curly locks, feeling the small plant-like growths bounce with the occasional raindrop.
Pacifica gasped. "That day, that one day that everyone thought the clocks messed up for a night. That's when people started saying they saw you in the Mystery Manor!" she realized.
"I am sorry, Pacifica," Yuki said to her, his arms loose at his sides.
Watching him, she shook his head. "Who are you?" she asked.
"I am Xabvri," he said proudly, "A race of researchers, scientists, and explores. We came to your planet three years ago. I made a horrible mistake here," Yuki stepped closer to Pacifica. It was a slow, tentative step; ensuring it was okay for Pacifica for him to approach. She did not flinch. He grimly said, "I paid the price for my mistake by becoming an exile on this planet. These here? On my head?" he pointed to his scalp, "They grew green the moment I began to breath your planet's atmosphere."
"I knew it," Pacifica said.
Yuki and Mabel did a double take. "Y-you knew?" Yuki stammered.
"Of course!" Pacifica laughed, "I'm could tell the moment I saw your eyes you weren't normal! Purple? Really? I thought they were contacts. But, look, Mabel is crazy and loves everyone, Dipper is an egghead," she shook her head, "and then there's you. You fit in with them perfectly. There are maybe like five people ever who hang out with those two who are human, and they're all weirdos. The rest? Monsters and stuff."
"Surely you don't think that," Yuki asked her.
"Well, you're not really a monster," Pacifica assured him.
"And you?" he asked with a grin.
"Just a weirdo."
Pacifica and Yuki both chuckled. Mabel, despite having been kicked and having an apple tossed at her face could still withhold her squeals. This date had been easily the most tumultuous one she had ever attended- including some of her own; dating high school boys was a gamble she had discovered. They had finally come to the point they were really just enjoying their company.
"Pacifica, I want to explain something," Yuki said. She hummed and nodded her head. He told her, "I don't age the same as humans."
"I wondered," she shrugged.
"No, I am much, much older than you," he said, allowing himself to sound more agitated. "I am over eighty earth years of age."
"You weren't kidding," Pacifica whistled, grabbing his hands, "Explains why you're so smart."
"Well, that would... I mean..."
"Yuki, I don't mind," Pacifica told him. "I want to spend time with you. Is that okay?"
Yuki bit his lip. "I..."
"I don't know how your people work and stuff, okay?" Pacifica told him, "But if you don't feel, you know, comfortable-"
"I am comfortable with you," Yuki shook his head, interrupting her, "I only want that which would keep you at ease."
"Well, dating me might put me at ease," she told him. Yuki stared to her. With a flick of his eyes that startled Mabel, he looked directly up and found her. She stared back in the long moment or two that Yuki had to silently communicate with her. Mabel could only do one thing.
Smile and nod. It was okay.
Yuki gave a small, fine smile to his friend, looked back to Pacifica, bent lower to her and graced her a small kiss to her cheek.
After a dainty gasp from her lips, Pacifica grinned devilishly. "Like hell that's all I'm getting from you on our first date!"
Yuki yelped as the girl leapt at him, wrapping her arms and legs around him for a full kiss along the lips.
Mabel grinned, and finally let go of the tension that had been deep inside this the entire day. They would no longer be needing Mabel. Yet, as she thought back along the events of the day, she came to a startling realization with a silent chuckle.
They had never needed Mabel. The match maker was not needed this instance.
Leaving her friends to kiss in the rain of the wooded clearing under an apple tree, Mabel began her long walk home in the rain.
The drive back to the Mystery Manor had been silent. Even with the rain hitting the roof of his car and the gentle rumble of the water by the wheels of his cars seemed entirely distant. The scrape of gravel was a distant memory to the boy who was certain he had lost a friend.
Dipper Pines now sat at the edge of the porch, staring at the gravel road that led him here. The same gravel road anyone else visiting would need to use.
The one Wendy was supposed to come by.
His gaze was constantly locked onto the horizon of the road. Nothing would break it- even the pouring rain keeping him soaked to the bone that splattered in his eyes was incapable of tearing his sight away. Instead, Dipper sighed and continued to stare ahead.
She was out there, somewhere. He knew it.
"Hey."
Dipper barely shifted himself, turning to the right. Stan had emerged from the door. Dipper spied slightly behind him was Arline, who spotted Dipper.
"We can chat later," Arline told Stan.
"Yeah, you stay inside," Stan shrugged, "I could use some fresh air."
"Fine. I'll get Soos."
Arline stepped back into the building as Stan stood next to Dipper, leaning towards the building against a support beam. Without looking to Dipper, Stan kept an eye on the soaking teenager. Dipper could feel the scrutiny from the corner of his grand-uncle's eye. There was something similar to worry there; masked behind the face of boredom. Finally, after a few solid moments of silence accompanied by the patter of rain, Grunkle Stan spoke.
"You finished being a sodden dork?"
Dipper looked away and stared back at the horizon. Grunkle Stan grumbled incoherently and sat on the couch behind Dipper.
"You know, I figured this day was going to come," Grunkle Stan said.
Dipper whipped his head around. "What do you mean?!"
"Wendy. Not coming to the Mystery Shack- err- Manor one day," Grunkle Stan shrugged. Dipper stared at him- it was odd for Stan to forget his prized building over anything. "What? I'm old and senile. I'm allowed to forget something's name from time to time."
"She should be here," Dipper mumbled as he turned back, putting his chin against his knees.
"She's got her own life to live, kid," Stan said, no longer tethered by a mundane need to subject Dipper to his opinion. Dipper could feel the experience coming from under his tone: Stan was speaking from his own past. "Sometimes people go where you can't follow them. All you can do is just hope they'll come back as the person you miss, and not someone you want to leave."
"You're talking about Stanford," Dipper muttered, glancing behind him.
Stan shrugged. "Maybe. He wasn't the same," Grunkle Stan told him, now watching that same horizon. "Wendy isn't the same. She's gotten older. She's changing," Stan continued, "Becoming a person who she'll be most of her life. I always thought the day would come she'd just not show up. I know she wanted to leave this town. Her heart wasn't meant for a town like this. She was like her mom."
Dipper gasped and turned. Stan was looking at Dipper now. Stanley told him, "Yeah, I knew her mom. Was a doctor – a nurse for the hospital. Once lived in the city, came here for the work. She and Wendy were really similar."
"But... she's been through so much," Dipper said aloud, trying to sort through his thoughts, "What if she needs isn't to be alone more, but to be near people?"
Stan was quiet.
Dipper turned around, looking to his grand uncle. "Well?"
"What do you want me to say?" Stan asked Dipper as he shrugged. "Look, sometimes we know what we want, sometimes we think we know what we want. Getting it right gets you gold, but getting it wrong... well, you've seen what happens when you get it wrong," Grunkle Stan said, looking to the roof of the porch overhang. "People change. For better or worse, kid."
"But if we can make it better-"
"Dipper," Stan leaned forward suddenly, looking at Dipper with an intense, direct stare, "I thought for sure this was going to be her last summer working here. I've been counting the days until she decides she's done. But I'm only her boss. You want to do something? You're her friend." Stan pointed ahead. "What's stopping you?"
Dipper stared; his mouth having dropped open. There were so many days in Dipper's past he could remember the feeling of oppression and dark pressure from Stan. This day, he was giving Dipper something he rarely could: hope. Suddenly numbing cold burst into fire, and Dipper couldn't sit. His legs jolted up, and Dipper ran ahead.
Behind him, Grunkle Stan called- "Just get back before it gets too dark! You've been out all day!"
Dipper couldn't bother to listen. He had hope, hope from a man who meant worlds to Dipper. It was enough to fuel the largest fire Dipper had felt in a long time. Long enough to forget the pain of hearing Wendy's shudders, and seeing her tears. He now remembered the feeling of the laughs they shared. The adventures they had done. Her warm lips, her deep green eyes, her perfect, long, red hair.
Gravel was tossed up behind each footstep, thrown behind him from how hard he pushed forward. The wind was mix with falling rain, and the world was a blur. Somewhere in these woods, he could find her. He just had to look hard enough-
Dipper's mind called for an immediate brake. Slowing down to a jog, and then to a complete, chest-heaving stop, Dipper recalled. Something about the rushing wind by the gravel road stirred something in his head. A memory- something so distant and vague that he could have, in any other situation, entirely discounted it. The feeling was too real this time.
He remembered- that night before finding the warlock, Dipper had driven to town. Something had passed over him, in the treetops.
Something with long streaking red color.
Like her hair.
With a sigh, Dipper turned his gaze upwards. There was nothing.
He groaned and looked around. He couldn't just discount the feeling now- he had committed to the idea. There was something nearby. To hell with Jeff's warnings! He could still find Wendy!
Dipper ducked under the tree, avoiding now the constant patter of lighter rain. Somewhere in the clouds, the rumble of lightning shook the sky. Dipper glanced around as a flash of light shook the dark forest into a stark reality. Yet, to his surprise, something did catch his eyes. Something, hidden in a bush, caught the light and reflected it.
With only the smallest hesitation, Dipper walked forward, and pushed aside the branches. It was a bike- Wendy's bike. Not only that, in the surprisingly thick, dry underbrush, Wendy's bag rested, only mildly wetted.
He stood up, putting a hand on his forehead as he chuckled. She was nearby. He wanted to laugh, look up to the sky. She wasn't far off. He hadn't left the woods around the shack!
Another crackle of thunder had Dipper glance upwards, uncertain about his position in the weather.
Then his heart stopped.
There.
Resting against a thick branch of a huge tree nearby, some eighty feet up, Wendy Corduroy sat, staring off into the distance towards the Mystery Manor.
"Wendy!"
His voice would not reach her. Either the combination of the rain or the thunder, Dipper's calls only served as a reminder to himself the distance he had to meet. She was still very, very high above him.
"Wendy!" he roared, putting his deepest core into the scream. She still did not turn down to him. Frowning, he found the tree. There wasn't the faintest sign of a low branch on her tree. He imagined she climbed it the same way she did with all impressive trees- a belt and the press of her boot.
Yet, to Dipper's luck, there was another tree just barely twenty feet away that he could climb. With a jump and reach, Dipper began his frantic climb up the side of the tree. Soon, he was ten feet up. A swing with his foot and grunt, he was twenty feet up. Thirty, then forty, and then fifty. Finally, she was close enough to talk to, even at a distance still.
"Wendy," Dipper said.
He could see her fully. She was soaked all the way through. Her hair stuck to her sides as she rested against the side of the tree, yet leaned on her knees as she stared outwards. Her eyes were glued to a spot as she seemed in a daze.
"Wendy!"
Her voice cut out against the dull rainfall. "Go home, Dipper," she told him.
Dipper balanced himself as he processed what she said. "N-no," he told her.
Wendy sighed and moved her gaze to him. Never had she looked so empty in her eyes. "Dipper, I told you I was going. You should go home, where it's safe."
"You didn't come to work today," Dipper told her, still some ten feet below him and twenty five feet away.
She shrugged. "It... didn't really matter. Not after today."
"Why?" he pleaded. "Are you really going to leave?" Wendy looked away as she nodded. "Why?!" Dipper asked, his voice straining from the agony of her answer.
"I can't."
"Can't what?"
"Go back."
"Can't, or won't?" Dipper ordered.
Wendy glared back to him. "Dipper, even if people are cool with me being around," she snapped back, "Imagine how it'll look later. In five years, ten years, twenty years – and I still look like this!" she told him. "Or how... how I'm going to go crazy."
"You don't know that," Dipper lied to her.
"I saw the book Robbie found. I know what it said," she told him, still looking away. It made Dipper's throat close that she wouldn't look at him. What was so important that she wouldn't look him in the eyes for more than a few seconds?!
"I found out stuff too!" Dipper shouted, the anger getting the better of him. "It's all magic! And magic is just another type of energy used to cause things! And results can be altered!"
"If you knew how bad I'm done for," Wendy quietly said, "You'd leave me alone and let me vanish. It's better this way, Dipper," she told him just as lightning crashed overhead.
More crashes of lightning spurred Dipper. His heart raced. He was angry at her; so desperate to see the kind of hope he had been given. "No!" he burst out, making her turn away and look down him, "I'm not giving up!" He started back to the end of his branch, and stretched his legs. He would need them at their best for his next feat.
"Dipper, don't you dare," Wendy said, turning fully, her feet now dangling down, "The closest branch is like twenty feet!"
"Well, I'm going to make it!" Dipper told her.
"No! You won't! I wouldn't make that!" Wendy shouted as Dipper lowered himself.
Dipper closed his eyes as he prayed his plan would work. This all came down to a bit of faith, and as far as he was considered, it was almost always a gamble. Sometimes though, it had to be worth it. At least, to him, Wendy was.
Dipper ran forward. Each step was carefully taken, and then he felt the last step before he ran out of stable support, and he leapt. Yelling as he catapulted himself into the air, Dipper flung his arms forward. Reaching at Wendy's branch was impossible, but maybe the one right underneath it wasn't.
Or... maybe it was.
Suddenly Dipper was beginning to fall. His fingers passed through the softer ends of the branch as gravity began to take its toll. Dipper was falling.
"Noo!"
A hand reached down, grasping at Dipper's foot. With a gasp, Dipper was halted from his life-ending fall. His hat fell away, falling far to the ground. Hair soaked and face wide in shock and fear, Dipper looked up to his feet. Wendy had wrapped her feet around a branch and dived down for him.
"You freakin' idiot!" she screamed as she slowly began to tug him up. As he scrambled up with her, pushing himself up to her spot, he heaved and gasped. Her chest also buckled too, and he looked up to her in a moment of confusion. She didn't need to breath, if she followed standard undead stats.
She wasn't heaving. Wendy was crying.
"You could have died!" she told him, grabbing him by the collar, "What the heck, dude?!"
"I had to reach you," Dipper barely managed to splutter.
"And what would have happened if I had missed?!" Wendy asked of him, her arms moving between motions of pushing him away and then grabbing him. "You would have died! What then, huh?! How am I going to see you if I can't follow you?! How could I just let... let the last thing I remember of you be seeing you fall to the ground like that?!"
Dipper's mind froze as he heard her. There were many things to be said to the typical fifteen-year-old about the limits of mortality. That was not among the ones he had ever expected to be told.
"I... I..." Dipper stumbled, as he did so frequently with Wendy, "I couldn't, just, you know."
"Dipper, you know what I am," she said to him slowly, "You know I can't be cured."
"Yet," Dipper added.
"Whatever!" she sighed with exasperation. "Why can't you leave me be then?"
Dipper found his tongue and connected it to his brain. "Because you are, even if a wraith or whatever, my friend." Wendy sighed, but Dipper pressed on. "Wendy, please."
"Please what?" she asked, so timid sounding that it scared Dipper. It didn't sound like her to be so taken off guard.
He had to ask. "Stay with me. Stay with me and Mabel. Here."
"Where?" Wendy asked, shaking her head. "I don't have any place I can stay now. People know I'm around here. If they see me, it's not like they can just be like 'huh that was weird'," she added in a deeper, strange voice, "They'll know it was me."
"Then stay in the Manor," Dipper asked. Wendy shook her head. Dipper groaned, "Why not?"
"You think Stan will say yes?" she asked him.
Dipper shrugged. "He's done weirder things."
"Dipper-"
"Wendy, please?" Dipper asked her, reaching over and taking her hand. "I don't want you out here, or somewhere else. I... okay," Dipper relented his false pretense of knowing how to help her, "I don't know what to do about the curse. But I'll find it. I swear I'll find it."
"How?" Wendy asked.
"I don't know," Dipper honestly said, "but I will." Wendy held her gaze away. There was thought and conflict in those eyes, even if Dipper's own could not look directly into them. He dared to give himself the strength to reach over and turn her look to him. "If you can reach out and save my life like that, can't you let me try to do the same?" Dipper asked.
Wendy's eyes broke away. Through nothing more than the trust of two close friends, or whatever they were becoming, Dipper knew one thing: they trusted each other. That trust meant something, after weeks of frustration and angst, especially now.
"Okay," Wendy said, "I'll stay."
"Yes!" Dipper cheered, and nearly lost his balance, "Whoa! Well, c'mon, come down from this tree already!"
"Just one last look," Wendy said, and turned her gaze.
Dipper looked to her. "Wait, you're not just dramatically looking at the horizon? What are you looking at?" Dipper asked.
Wendy pointed, and Dipper aligned himself to be next to her. It must have been nearly a mile away, but somehow Wendy had found it. The one spot in a million that showed her the perfect view to her dad's house.
Celebration was nearly instantly required. The entire way down the tree, Dipper was promising to begin the search. Wendy chuckled, beginning to grow into a lighter mood with Dipper's happiness in waves that never ceased. His happiness wasn't even stifled when Mabel leapt out off the road and onto Dipper's back, trying to tackle him to the ground. He merely laughed and ran in circles, stunning both women next to him.
Dipper's life had become millions of times better. He had saved himself one friendship he never wanted to lose.
Walking back to the Mystery Manor, they chatting about how Mabel stalked Yuki on his date (which shocked Wendy). Dipper then told them how hard he looked (which equally shocked Wendy). The three were finally meeting with Stan, on the porch. Wendy had gently laid her bike to the side when he addressed her, cutting through the twin's rapid explanation of what they wanted.
"So, you finally decided to wise up and stick around town?" Stan asked her.
Wendy chuckled. "Actually, I was kind of hoping I could stay here for a bit," Wendy asked.
Stan laughed. "Sure. I think after you living in the woods alone for two years, you'll probably want a change of pace."
"That's right– wait," Wendy gasped, staring at Stan as the twins gaped, "You– you knew?"
"Grunkle Stan!?" the twins barked.
"You three forget," Stan told them as he moved towards the door, "I'm one half of the original mystery duo. You really think never blinking, for entire days on end, would just pass by me?" Stan asked Wendy with a chuckle. "But hey, you're handling it well. Now, I don't really have a spare bedroom, but-"
"It doesn't matter, really," Wendy shrugged, "As long as I don't suddenly catch fire, I should be okay."
Stan guffawed and waved them inside. "I was hoping you'd stick around. Face it, you also want to be here – just not for the reasons you thought," Stan told Wendy, "And besides, if there's any place in town that should house the crazy and unusual, it's mine. And you're crazy and unusual."
"Grunkle Stan, if you knew about her," Dipper asked, "Why didn't you ever extend an invitation?"
"Yeah!" Mabel added, "She was out tarzan-ing in the woods!"
"Just without a loincloth," Wendy added.
Stan sighed and faced them again. "Look, I would have, okay?" he said with a worried scratch on his neck. "As far as I was concerned, as soon as I figured out what happened to her, I wanted you to be safe. But what could have happened if you hadn't been ready for people to know about you? Huh?" Stan asked, "If you knew that I had you figured out, would you have stayed around? Or run?"
Wendy pursed her lips. "Probably run," Wendy admitted.
"See?" he stated.
"Stan."
As the three entered the building, they all found Arline watching them. Her arms were crossed, and no smile was present.
Stan nodded. "Right. So, uh, we have a Mystery Manor Staff Meeting, and that includes her, and especially you two," Stan pointed to the twins.
"Arline is invited to a meeting?" Mabel gasped, "Does that mean she's going to be working here?!"
"In a manner of speaking," Arline shrugged.
"Look, it's more important than that," Stan told them.
Dipper looked at Stan. Him, standing next to Arline without throwing some sort of low-blow gag or insult was odd. Something was going on. If they were calling people in, it meant something they all needed to hear.
"Something is happening," Dipper guessed.
"Happened," Stan corrected him. He sighed, and put his fingers onto the bridge of his nose. "We've got bad news."
Arline nodded, and spoke for Stan. "Last night the warlock escaped."
There you have it. The calm is over. As would be the eye of the storm passing over, the raging weather is about to return. I hope you all enjoyed our little break from the craziness that are the 'intense episodes'. And for those of you that miss them- don't worry. They're coming back.
I mean, the Warlock isn't the kind of guy to let a grudge go, is he?
No. the answer is no. I would know; I wrote him.
A big thanks to my guest reviewers who keep making me happy! And an equally big thanks to my friends and reviewers who have accounts so I can reply to them! SERIOUSLY GUYS: If you review my story and want me to reply, make an account. I talk to people. Just ask them return reviewers! XD
So there you have it. The next Episode is called 'Monster Politics'.
So, seeya guys next- (Crashing through the wall, the tree Dipper jumped from crushes EZB in one fell swoop.)
"Okay, run it by me again, buddy."
"Okay," Deputy Durland looked about. Him and Sheriff Blurbs stood in a police cell that had once inhabited Graupner Kinley. It was fairly unexceptional, save for the massive hole in the brick wall next to them. It was no explosively made hole; the bricks seemed to have simply organized themselves outwards, and frozen themselves out like some sort of door.
Durland pointed to the cell bars. "First off, the escape route," he said.
"Okay, that is important," Blurbs nodded, sipping a cup of coffee.
"He probably escaped through the bars," Durland declared. "He was all skinny like."
"And greasy!" Blurbs suggested.
"And mean," Durland pointed to his partner, "Don't forget mean! Mean people can always squeeze through tight spaces."
"Okay, so," Blurbs approached him, eying the steel bars, "We leave him alone and go do Summerween. We come back, and he's slipped through the bars, like some sorta snake?"
"Sounds about right," Durland affirmed.
Blurbs nodded thoughtfully. He turned, eying the hole in the wall. "Uh. Wait." He pointed to the massive, gaping hole. "What about that?"
Durland eyed the new hole. "What about it?"
"Could he have slipped through that?"
"Well, I guess so," Durland shrugged, "But since it looks like it's always been there, wouldn't he have done it before last night?"
"Hmm," Durland sipped his coffee, staring at the certainly new feature of the cells. After a moment, he declared, "You make a solid case! Let's write up the report!" And the two, giggling like idiots, rushed out towards the offices.
23-8-1-20 23-15-21-12-4 25-15-21 4-15 6-15-18 12-15-22-5?