Rewind
They were combing through the stuff in her parents' attic. With the wedding only a week away and the contract for the house already signed, they were ready to start their life together.
Almost.
Janelle wanted access to her old photo albums and home videos, after all 'I put so much effort into them and I didn't have them with me in college to show them to you!' So here they were on a lazy June afternoon, combing through dust and corrugated cardboard boxes in search of every last one of his fiancé's handmade memories.
"Joe, I found another box over here!" Janelle hoisted a load, a triumphant smile lighting up her face.
"Coming!" he answered back, pushing himself to his feet and picking his way around the mess. He made it just in time. Janelle, with her arms full, didn't see mess of magazines pilled haphazardly on the floor. With a little yelp of surprise, gravity began to take over, making an expressway to the floor.
"I gotchya." He assured her, grunting under the extra weight and hoping his voice didn't betray the way his heart was pounding. Somehow, he had managed to catch the oversized box, supporting Janelle at an uncomfortable angle on top of it. The two slowly found their balance, readjusting their grip on the box so they were sharing the burden.
"Thanks." She said breathlessly, eyes shining with the tiny rush of adrenaline, and Joe thought he was possibly the luckiest guy in the world. "This box has loads of VHS tapes from elementary school and middle school, but my parents recorded some of them, so we're going to have to sort through them. VHS, though, gosh we are old!"
He chuckled, "We don't even have a VHS player, Jan. How are we going to watch them?"
"We'll snag one of my parents'." She said with a wink, "I mean, you've already seen what pack-rats they can be. They won't miss it."
Joe made a mental note to mention the acquisition to his future father-in-law. He definitely wanted to stay on that man's good side.
"Here's some space." Janelle interrupted his thoughts, "Set it down on three. One. Two. Three."
The two got comfortable on the warm wooden floor. Joe wiped a few beads of sweat from his brow with his rolled up sleeves while Janelle pulled open the flaps of the box. Dust enveloped them in a mushroom cloud.
"Jackpot."
"How am I supposed to help with this?" Joe asked uncertainly, "I'm not going to know which are which."
"Go grab that other box we were filling. You can put them in there as I find the right ones."
Doing as he was told, he came back to find a stack of tapes already growing beside his fiancé. He read each of the labels as he organized them in the box designated for their new house. Piano Recital, October 8th, 1999. Into the Woods, Sophomore Year of High School. Patriotic Night, 4th Grade.
"This makes me wish I had been more devoted to recording my childhood for you." Joe muttered idly as the huge cardboard box began to meet its capacity. So focused on his task, he was slow to notice that Janelle had frozen. Confused, Joe read the label of the tape she was staring at with profound intensity.
"8th Grade Graduation, May 17th 2008." He read aloud. When his fiancé didn't respond, he pressed, "Jan, honey, is something wrong?"
Her eyes snapped up to his, her face flashed between fear and embarrassment. He tilted his head, prompting her to answer the question he'd posed.
"Sorry," Janelle's response was soft. She shook her head before offering him a forced smile. "I thought I had gotten rid of this, but I guess I forgot that my parents sometimes made two copies of my recordings."
"What's wrong with it? Did it not turn out?"
"No." her expression was troubled. Something was definitely wrong. "Yes. Not exactly. It's a long story."
"We still have a lot of sorting to do." Joe commented.
Janelle set the VHS aside, continuing with her task, "It just reminded me of something I'd rather forget."
"It's fine if you don't want to talk about it." he assured her, despite the curiosity eating his insides.
His fiancé grinned at him, "That's crap, Joe-Joe."
He grinned back, "I'd rather know, but it's still up to you."
Taking a deep breath, Janelle explained, "There this boy in my eighth grade class. He was always very quiet; a huge bookworm and otherwise unnoticeable. It was his twin sister, on the other hand, that always got into all sorts of trouble." She smiled at the memory of her classmate's antics.
"Anyway, I recorded this on day of eighth grade graduation. We had school, but none of the teachers made us do anything since we had the ceremony that night. Long story short: this boy must have had some sort of undiagnosed personality disorder because he started going crazy – literally crazy – on everyone in the class. Things got pretty chaotic. I don't recall everything that happened, but his sister was the only one that could manage him until we got help.
"The school counselor interrogated everyone in the eighth grade to try and get the story straight. But in the end, the school board decided to sweep the whole fiasco under the rug. I don't know if that boy every got help. He and his sister went to a different high school than the rest of our class the year after. I never saw him again. But just thinking about it gives me the creeps."
"So it should go in the 'no' pile?" he asked, trying to insert some levity.
"Yes, Joe, please put it in the 'no' pile."
Predictably, he had a difficult time falling asleep later that night. Tossing and turning in the guest bedroom of his fiancé's parent's house, he noticed that the digital clock on the nightstand read past midnight.
"Screw it." He muttered to no one in particular.
Throwing off the covers, he navigated room in the green light of the clock's LED numerals. Out in the hallway, he blindly groped for the wall, hoping that his mental layout of the house would be enough. The VHS tape was where Janelle had left it on the kitchen counter. She'd been meaning to ask her parents what they wanted to do with it. Joe had never seen her so bent on the destruction of an inanimate object before.
Silently, he snuck into the living room. Checking to see that the volume was down enough not to wake anyone, Joe turned on the TV and slid the tape in the VHS player. As the outdated machine began to whir to life, he vaguely wondered if this was a bad idea.
Awash in the ambient blue light of the television, Joe's attention was utterly transfixed on the scene that played out before him:
"This is Janelle Richards reporting…"
"And Macy!" girls he recognized as the younger version of his fiancé and her maid of honor took up most of the screen, their faces squished together to fit in the viewer.
"And we're here to say that after tonight we will officially be high school students!" Janelle chirped.
"Yay!" Macy added, dissolving into giggles shortly thereafter.
Young Janelle was obviously trying to maintain a serious aura, like the professional reporter she had dreamed of being when she was younger. She went on to list the agenda for the night, what members of her family would be coming, along with anecdotes of her middle school career. Macy's contribution mostly consisted of inside jokes that made the two of them hold back snorts of laughter.
It was cute, Joe thought, but ultimately distracting. He rewound the tape, going back to the beginning and keeping an eye on the other students milling about the in the background of the classroom, obviously bored with the lack of any clear objective.
For one individual, that was not the case. He was sitting in the back of the classroom, head supported on one hand as flipped the pages of a novel with the other. Through the pixelated, poor quality, Joe could just tell that the boy looked half asleep, eyelids drooping shut at odd intervals. A girl sitting next to him was coloring furiously with an oversized pack of crayons and every now and then, she would poke him in the side, causing him to jump in surprise.
Siblings. He could tell by their similar facial structures and shade of hair. A feeling of dread grew in his gut.
They had no idea what was about to happen.
The boy's head finally drooped as his arm buckled and gave out. Landing face first in his book with a smack, he had undoubtedly fallen asleep. With some exasperation, his sister poked him with an aquamarine crayon.
"Dipper." She called the boy's name, "Dipper, wake up!"
But he didn't move; didn't budge; didn't stir. On the front screen, the two girls continued to talk, unaware of the siblings' struggles. After a minute of her jabs growing more and more frantic, the girl stood up and grabbed her brother by the shoulder. His head lolled to the side, eyes still closed.
"Miss Rose!" the girl called, prompting the rest of the class to fall silent.
"Yes, Mabel?" the teacher answered from somewhere off screen.
"Dipper fell asleep and he isn't waking up."
"Are you sure?"
Mabel glanced at a white jelly watch on her wrist, "It's been over ninety seconds. Please, Miss Rose, I think something's wrong? He's been having a rough time over the past few days with stress and stuff…"
She trailed off as the boy sat up, face still a mask of apparent unconsciousness. Then suddenly, one eye slid open, followed by the other.
The video camera had long since been turned on the boy, and now it recorded the unfolding drama with perfect clarity.
The boy's sclera were pale yellow, irises resolved into slits, eyes shining with mania. A disconcerting smile bloomed on his face, polar opposite of the sleep-deprived frown he had worn before passing out. He cocked his head at his sister.
"Don't worry, Shooting Star. I'm right as rain."
Joe had no way of knowing if that was his normal voice, but regardless, it sent chills down his spine. The way it buzzed out of his moth; the way his intonations strung out words; the way it rang too high and thin to be a normal boy's voice.
"See Mabel, he's fine now." their teacher said, "Dipper, please get a good night's sleep tonight so your sister doesn't have to worry about you."
"Yes, ma'am." The boy agreed in that same reedy tone.
But Mabel didn't look the least bit reassured. In fact, she took a halting step back, staring at her brother in horror.
The screen wiggled as Janelle and Macy decided to get back to their program. But before either of them could utter a single word, Mabel shouted for the whole classroom to hear.
"Everybody, GET OUT NOW!"
"Mabel," Miss Rose entered the view, making her way to Mabel in an attempt to placate her, "What is wrong with you today?"
"Nothing is wrong with me," Mabel's voice was shaking slightly and a fake smile was fixed on her face. As her brother saw it, his smile grew too, uncomfortably wide. "I was just suggesting that we all take a walk outside. I mean, the weather is very nice, after all."
"Nice try," their teacher sighed, "But it's almost lunch time. Maybe after we can go for a walk."
"Yeah, sister," the boy added, "Don't make all the humans go away."
Miss Rose paused at the odd turn of phrase, but seemed to shrug it off rather quickly, returning to her desk as Dipper continued to talk.
"What'ya got there, sister?" He stumbled to his feet over to Mabel's desk where he picked up a crayon, "Is this human food? Should I unwrap it first?"
Unlike their teacher, the girls didn't seem interested in going back to their previous activities. As if mesmerized, the camera continued to film the hapless siblings.
"Bill," Mabel's tone was pitched low, it was difficult to hear. Joe had to rewind and listen again to affirm that the girl had indeed called her brother by another name. "If you don't get out of my brother's body right now, I swear I'll…"
"You'll what?" he interrupted, "Knock him senseless like you did last time. Good plan. You want to give him a black eye. Remind both of you what happened every time you open your picture book to eighth grade graduation? I don't think you've got the gumption for it, Shooting Star."
"I, on the other hand," he smacked his face and giggled, "Get it? I would like to have a look around. After all, it's not every day I get to intermingle with tiny meat sacks. It's usually the old and decrepit ones that summon me. So…"
He tottered off around the class room, Mabel following tentatively behind him.
"What are these?" he asked, holding up a tiny, black and silver object.
"Butterfly clips." Mabel answered distractedly. She was frantically looking about the classroom. For what, Joe had no idea. And later he wished that he had never found out.
"Sweet!" the boy's words carried too loud, making several of his classmates stare. It was obvious that they were unaccustomed to this level of action from Dipper. The boy winched the clips on his fingers, frowning a little, "They don't hurt as much as I thought they would. But I guess I shouldn't expect much with a word like 'butterfly' in the name. Hey, Shooting Star, where are those scissors I saw you using earlier?"
Mabel scowled at her brother, "I gave them back to the teacher, so you can't have them. Bill, is there something you want? Because I want you gone."
"Nothing in particular. Pine Tree was just getting real worked up over this whole ceremony thing. I saw a chance, so I took it. Gotta make good on my deal every once in a while."
"Your very unfair deal. Is it not enough to bother him with nightmares?"
"No amount of suffering is ever enough for my favorite Pine Tree. Hey Miss Rose," The boy yelled at the teacher, "Can I have those scissors in exchange for telling you the time and date of your death?"
"How about I just lend you the scissors, Dipper." Their teacher answered with a smile, thinking the offer to be some sort of joke, "I'll pass on the palm reading."
"No!" Mabel shouted again, only to catch herself a beat later, "Miss Rose, you can't give him the scissors. I need them."
"Mabel, your brother asked first. Wait your turn."
"But I need them for the Caticitures I'm making for my family! Right now. I need scissors right now."
The excuse did not seem to impress Miss Rose. "I'm sure it can wait."
"Yeah, sister." Dipper's smirk was razor sharp, "I'm sure it can wait."
A look of impending doom seemed to cross Mabel's face as she watched her teacher pass the scissors to her brother. He accepted them by the handle eagerly, wild smirk never failing.
The boy regarded the utensil for a second before reversing his grip on the scissors and holding them above the palm of his other hand, "You know how they say you can find a Christ figure in every story? Well, I never liked that guy…"
To stick with the biblical metaphors: it was as if all hell broke loose.
A determined look crossed Mabel's face. Dipper forcefully plunged the blades of the scissors down. Miss Rose watched with wide eyes, petrified. Janelle, behind the camera, screamed.
Mabel tackled her brother – well, whoever it was, because Joe was sure it wasn't that Dipper kid – and both of them went careening to the floor in a bundle of flailing limbs. Thankfully, the scissors flew out of the way, sliding to a stop beside the desk where Miss Rose snatched them up.
"Shooting Star," the boy growled, "You are a constant thorn in my side!"
"If anyone is going to hurt my brother, it's going to be ME! And it's especially going to be NOT YOU!" Mabel growled right back. "Now, GET OUT!"
The camera shook as a number of students voluntarily took Mabel's command and fled. But ultimately, the camera didn't go anywhere. And it didn't stop recording.
"Dipper!" Miss Rose's voice was panicked, "What is going on? What is wrong with you?"
From where Mabel had pinned him to the floor, the boy cackled, "Pine Tree isn't in right now, can I take a message?"
"Shut up, Bipper!" Mabel ground out, grabbing a nearby textbook and whacking him in the face with it. "Where is Dipper?"
"C'mon Shooting Star. Let me up. I wanna play with the other kids."
Joe heard a small 'meep' come from behind the camera. Oh gosh, Janelle hadn't left the classroom. She was still watching the horror show? No wonder she wanted to get rid of this tape.
"Where is Dipper?"
"Floating around your head, trying to get your attention. Pine Tree, you know it's pointless, right? We've been over this: you don't exist right now." he paused, as if listening to someone, "He's saying something about his backpack. Shooting Star, is this making any sense to you?"
Apparently it did. Mabel's eyes went wide and they shot to her teacher. "Miss Rose, can you get Dipper's backpack? There's a dream catcher in there. I need it."
The boy started to squirm, "No, I hate those things. They tickle. And they're just downright annoying."
Miss Rose hurried to retrieve the dream catcher, seeming confused but happy to help in any way possible.
"What do I do with it?" Mabel asked the boy, tugging forcefully at the front of his shirt.
Bipper crossed his arms over his chest, "I'm not telling."
"I'm asking Dipper."
"And I'm not his translator."
"Do you want a taste of some anointed water?"
Bipper's eyes flew wide, glowing bright, "You're bluffing."
"Wanna to try me?"
"Yes."
Mabel blinked. Bipper only shrugged in response.
"What? I'm interested to see what would happen."
Miss Rose handed the small, palm-sized dream catcher to Mabel. As it drew closer to Bipper, the golden light in his eyes intensified. A third source of illumination appeared as a line that split open into the shape of an eye in the center of his forehead. Its stare was wide and unearthly.
"Noooooo!" the boy asked, his words slurring. He looked woozy, like someone had just cracked him over the head with a baseball bat. "Ghedd'it away frommee!"
"Bed time, Bipper." Mabel laid the dreamcatcher on his chest.
He giggled, "It tickles." His voice faded out, "I hate…"
The boy's luminescent eyes fell shut accompanied by a deep sigh. Mabel was quiet, attentively watching her brother from where she sat on his chest. Apparently she wasn't letting him up until she received some sort of sign.
It came a moment later.
Bleary brown eyes blinked open, a frown once again gracing his features.
"Dipper?" Mabel asked with a hint of uncertainty.
"Mabel," the boy groaned, his voice now pitched low and irritated, "Get off me. You're heavy."
"Gotta be, bro-bro."
"I know. I saw." He suddenly seemed to notice the onlookers that didn't initially dessert the room. His face flushed red. Mabel got up, helping her brother to his feet as well. Dipper seemed to find his sneakers extremely interesting after that.
"What just happened?" Miss Rose finally snapped.
"I think we need to go to the nurse's office." Mabel announced, "Dipper might have hit his head."
"You're not going anywhere until you explain…"
"Nope!" Mabel chirped happily, pulling her brother out the door, "I'm sure plenty of questions will be asked later. Bye!"
Joe noticed that Dipper had slid the dreamcatcher into his pocket, dutifully following behind his sister. The pair of siblings left the classroom, leaving behind a very confused Miss Rose, gripping both the scissors and Dipper's backpack. For a full minute, the scene was silent.
"The camera is still running." Macy finally whispered.
"Turn it off." Janelle's young, fragile voice made Joe want to go up to her room right now and give her the biggest hug, just to hold her and tell her that everything would be okay. Because that shit was the scariest thing he had ever seen his life. Horror movies included. This wasn't fake. It had really happened.
The television crackled as whoever cut the recording fiddled with the buttons. As the screen went black, Joe felt his heart race. He was alone, in the dark house, with only the faint mosquito noise of the outdated tube screen to keep him company. And it sounded like screaming.
Golden eyes flashed in his mind.
Phantom sensations of self-mutilation ghosted over his skin.
Someone, somewhere was laughing with manic glee at his unnecessary fear.
The TV switched to static as the VHS player reached the end of the tape. The sudden noise caused Joe to jump, barely restraining the high pitched yelp that tried to escape his lips. He was so scared right now. Terrified, to be more accurate. Watching the video alone, in the dark, in the middle of the night, only made matters worse.
If he slept at all tonight…
…there would be nightmares.
The boy's – Bipper's – voice sounded in his thoughts, reedy and triumphant, "Just the way I like it."
The dreamcatcher is a sleep charm that Dipper spelled to help him when his insomnia gets really bad. But spells attached to objects can trigger automatically if they come into close to lots of magical energy; in this case, Bill. This episode is what prompts Dipper to put full effort into developing wards against possession, which he works on over the summer in Gravity Falls. At this point, Mabel has about two years of Grunkle Stan's boxing lessons as well as karate under her belt, not just for fighting monsters, but also for restraining Bipper during bouts of possession. Besides the angst, I just really love the fact that Dipper and Mabel make such a great mystery hunting team :)
Officially, I am going to mark this story as complete. It's possible I might revisit it (add on to it) in the future so if you haven't followed already you might want to do so. I still have ideas bouncing around in my head, but I'm not making any promises.
Thanks to everyone who had followed, favorited, and reviewed this story. You're support and encouragement have been awesome. Again, thank you so much, and thanks for reading! 3