Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls!
Title: March On, Or the Fear Wins
Summary: Time goes on, even when friends are apart. The Mystery Shack ends up becoming Wendy's pet project as she helps her friends through the seasons.
Chapter Title: Summer
(A time of letting go)
...
gamelover41592- Nah, man. It's all Wendy.
ilya39- Thanks!
Storminormin- Thank you. =)
werepirechick- AREN'T THEY THOUGH!? (Are you kidding I love the thought of having a headcanon be carried on by others!)
Guest (March 20)- Relax, friend. There is no hate here. =)
Yes, it would be romantic, but the main focus is Tyler trying to fit into the family itself, not the relationship. If that's not your cup of tea, then I understand. (As a poly shipper, I understand that not every one likes the things I do. I like everything, more or less, and what I don't ship I can appreciate. I refuse to be a hater.)
Ultimateheatblast4- Most of them will appear through the link, but that's about it. =) At the end of the day, this is Wendy's arc above all else.
Spyden- Thanks for reading!
The Keeper of Worlds- Pacifica is a favorite of mine, but I've always had a thing for the primadonna characters, especially when they can hold her own, like ours can. =) Wouldn't we all?
...
Wendy examines herself in the mirror with a low whistle. Her shoulders are hunched, eyes crusty. She looks like the sandman decided to rub his dirt in her face, sans the magic. (He's jerk enough to do that, let her tell you.) "Ugh."
Her skin is tingling unpleasantly, like a sugar high, only without the jitters. There's a nervous churning in her gut; that, however, is just her stress acting up. It's also one of the only emotions that are purely hers, and she finds herself reveling in it for once, rather than hating it.
This is not how she wants to look and feel on today, of all days.
More bursts of nervous excitement shot through the lines, making her sway at her feet, grabbing at the mirror to keep upright. It's too early for this. She's lightens the blows before letting them flow back out.
This is what she's been reduced to, then. A cotton ball. Making sure no on gets the full weight of the feelings coming from their circle mates.
Can you tell she hasn't really slept the past two days? Right. Up and at 'em. A shower and- she shudders to think of it- a bit of eyeliner should do the trick.
(Her skin is sensitive to makeup. One day should only lead to a bit of irritation, however.)
She steps into the shower, ignoring another blast of emotion. Let them deal with their own problems, for once.
Wendy takes extra time to wash her hair out, mostly just to irritate her brothers, and steals some of their bath wash, forsaking her more feminine kind to make up for the paint she's going to splatter across her face.
(She's got nothing against makeup. Really. You wanna wear it? Good for you. She just has a certain amount of girly she can take in her day to day comfort zone.)
One scolding via her siblings later- which she blandly stares at them through; she hasn't even begun and she's done with all of this- Wendy puts on her usual getup and then a little more, looking about as perky as a teen with little sleep normally does. She pulls a jacket on over her scar; she'll whip that puppy out when Dipper gets to bragging about his little face mark. Her fingers twitch toward her axe, her security blanket for the past year, then pause. She could only imagine the questions they would have if she brought it; the looks they'd give her.
But, at the same time, she's bound to be around gnomes and Manotaurs and the like for the welcome party. Any number of magical predators could take the offer for a free meal presented to them and attack. What then?
Her pulse skitters at that, images of her friends in various states of mutilation popping up in her mind. She remembers, too late, to close off her end of the line. The majority of that sentiment goes through unbidden.
Comfort flows through her almost immediately in the form of an image. Teeth bared, hair wild, a triumphant gleam in Wendy's eyes as she fights. Something about the way she's holding herself looks strong and dignified; indeed, the blood sticking her shirt to her side is the red of pride. A protective entity he knows he can always turn to.
It's how Soos sees her. His opinion is a bit too high for comfort, if she's honest with herself. Anybody would do something like that; you'd have to be a mighty big coward not to.
Gideon- begrudgingly- reminds her of the time she kicked him like a football- no small feat, considering he's closer to a hundred than he is fifty pounds- while Pacifica, with some trouble, shows her the field she picked flowers in, peaceful and warm.
If that's the case, she returns fiercely, then all the more reason for her to take it with. Somebody's gotta fight the good fight, so to speak.
McGucket is a smidge angry at that thought, taking offense at the idea than an old man with a banjo can't fight his own battles, but Robbie gave an emotional nod yeah, because he wasn't the strongest fighter he knew by far.
He has a point. Both of them. Wendy isn't a knight in shining armor, fighting tooth and nail for a cause. She needs to trust them to fight their own battles.
She reminded herself, for the umpteenth time, that Bill is dead. His dimension and theirs was closed off, and, with immortality in mind, it could be hundreds of years before they tried again. Thousands, even. Long after she was gone. It takes time for a setup like the one they had thirty-odd years ago to form; it isn't an everyday occurrence that two twins who haven't seen each other in years fight in an experiment-filled basement, after all.
And, should something happen, her puny little axe wouldn't be enough to stop it. It's time to stop playing the hero when there's no villain to fight.
"Alright." She says forcefully, smacking her palm against the side of her head in an effort to block out all the positive emotions and images being sent her way. "I get it. I'm okay."
Nevertheless, Wendy yearns to grab the handle a few more minutes before she successfully turns and walks away without regret, exiting by means of the front door to meet up with Soos to wait at the bus stop. (First Dipper and Mabel, then Stan and Ford a few days later; they're coming by water.)
Let it collect dust, for all she cares. She has more pressing matters to attend to.
Author's Note: In a way, Wendy is the one who found moving on the hardest. =) This is just one of many steps they'll all have to take towards healing.
I have a possible two-parter for the Teen!Delinquent AU in mind to maybe write out, and, should that be a thing, it'll come before the Dan/Tyler drabble series, simply because it'll be the quickest. After that, who knows?
See you all soon!
-Mandaree1