Right, here we go! I was actually surprised at the amount of reception this got...I didn't really think Gideon was that popular of a character, and so people would kind of veto this fic because of it - but hey, I was proved wrong! So, I'm going to continue this story until I have written the final chapter and pushed post!
So, how about that finale huh? Very intense. I enjoyed it very much (I've watched it quite a few times now!) - but I digress, I should really get onto the story, shouldn't I?
Thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed, and favorited the first chapter! I appreciate it!
Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls, though I really can't complain too much because if it WAS mine everything would be totally totally messed. Up.
Gideon awoke with a painful whine. A hive of hornets buzzed in his leg, and when he rest his hand down to touch the injury, a sharp hiss tore from his mouth. His hand came away red. Eyes sliding open, he warily looked around the room he was in. The walls, floor, and ceiling were covered in cold concrete. He spotted a toilet, and stairs leading to a door. If he listened closely enough, he could hear footsteps walking above, the quiet murmurs of voices barely breaking past the cement.
And when he sniffed, he smelt food.
Gaze snapping across to the plate on the ground next to him, he felt his mouth begin to water. He twitched sideways, finally hearing a creak and realizing he was on a bed. The blankets were thin, the mattress springs poking into his back, but he wasn't sleeping on the floor. At least someone had the decency to take care of him.
Careful to keep his injured leg still, he scrabbled at the ground for the sandwich. "Ah!" He said with relish as he finally captured it in his grip.
It was gone in seconds. He made sure to get every single crumb off of his fingers.
"Good. You're awake."
Gideon turned his head quickly, hearing a strange crick in his neck from moving to fast. He hadn't even heard the door to what he assumed was the basement open, but her certainly saw Dipper standing and blocking the stairway.
Gideon bristled immediately. "You! You shot me!"
"Enjoyed it, too," he replied nastily, lip curling. "Would have shot you in the head if I didn't think you had something to tell me."
"I don't know who you think you're messin' with, boy-" He hissed, shoulders tensing tight.
"On the contrary, Gideon," Dipper cut across him, walking closer to the bed. "You seem not to understand the predicament you're in. You have been shot in the leg, and I can move perfectly fine. You have no weapons, and I have more than enough to tear you to pieces. You have no power. Can you guess who does?"
The older teenager glowered down at him. Against the darkness of his prison cell (was he destined to live his entire life behind bars?), Dipper's eyes looked shadowed, the brown black, the white gray. "So why don't you rephrase your question." One hand gripped into his hair, at the base where the monster had torn at it, and pulled. "Because you don't know who you're messing with."
Gideon glared hard at Dipper, even as the back of his head burned. His body didn't know whether to scream about the pain in his leg or the now more prudent stinging of his head. Dipper just stared him dead in the eye, his hand slowly getting tighter, tugging harder.
"Okay, okay, I'll…I'll talk! Just let ma hair go!" He finally broke. Dipper's hand released, and he stepped away from the bed. He smiled thinly at Gideon, but he saw no warmth or kindness in it. Only a quiet fury. "So," Dipper said, reaching into his pocket. His breath drew in as he saw the golden key dangle from one finger by the chain. His hand reached up to his neck, grasping at bare air.
"Give that back!" He started with growing horror. Mabel's key!
"Not until you tell me what you know," he replied, swinging the key idly back and forth, a pendulum swinging.
"About what?" Of course he knew what, and the livid expression that spread from Dipper's eyes and across his face said as much.
"Don't play dumb with me, Gideon!" He said lowly, something in the back of his voice shaking. He swung the key back up, closing his fist around it. His brows drew down hatefully. "Tell me. TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!"
Gideon felt his senses drain for just a moment, feeling the color drain from his face. Seething, Dipper's leg lifted, the heel of his shoe crashing down into the wound in his knee. A wave of nausea crashed through him, eyes bugging.
He didn't bother to muffle his scream.
"Jesus! You psycho, what the heck is wrong with you!?"
Dipper's voice had lowered again, but somehow that was worse. Tumultuous anger he could understand, but when he spoke again, it was with a dispassionate sort of detachment. Dead, or at the very least, dying.
"You think I haven't been looking for her, Gideon?" He said quietly. Gideon couldn't see his face, because he was looking down at the heel of his shoe, digging it in harder. His breath came out in a squeak, eyes squeezing shut as another bout of sickness hit him. He could feel sticky blood clotting in the wound, and when he opened his eyes again, he felt the sandwich he'd just eaten threatening to come back up.
He'd never seen so much blood come from his own body.
"You think I haven't spent every single day wondering if she was still alive? Every single day wondering if I'm too late? Because I have." Dipper continued, eyes lifting finally, and Gideon swallowed at the expression he saw in them – or lack thereof. "And here you are…Bill Cipher's feared lieutenant…responsible for leading millions of people to their deaths." He dragged his shoe off of the wound. Gideon muffled the noise of pain into the back of his throat. No way was he giving Dipper the satisfaction. "So the way I see it," he murmured, kneeling down and picking up the plate the sandwich had been on. The little chain of the key slipped between his fingers as he held the plate, the metal and ceramic going tink against one another. "I should have no qualms with giving you a little taste of your own medicine, if that is what it comes to…though I'd prefer not to. I'm not a monster, after all." He stood back up. "Make this easy for yourself, Gideon, and just tell me what this key is all about."
Hands clenched into fists, Gideon turned his head away from Dipper to stare at the ceiling. On one hand, it wasn't like he owed Bill anything anymore. On the other, he really didn't want to be making any dealings with Dipper, either.
Dipper sighed heavily from beside him, and a hand clapped down against Gideon's shoulder.
"You can't play good and bad cop, Pines, that's not how it works!" He spit out. When he turned his head to look up at him, he noted the twist to his mouth, how drawn down it was.
"Just shut up for a second, okay?" He replied, voice quiet. "Just…think about this for a few minutes; is this really what you want?"
"What sorta question is that?"
"Do you want Bill to take over the world? Do you really want him to win?"
Gideon gnawed at his lip. "Well…"
"No. That's what I thought. So why are you letting him? Why are you working with him?"
"Well…that's because…I…" He was beginning to feel uncomfortable – though that could have just been because of the pain shooting up his leg where he'd been shot.
"This key…" Dipper stared at it for a moment. She's locked up somewhere, isn't she?"
Gideon didn't reply. He didn't have too, because Dipper was already speaking again. "Do you want to have Mabel locked up in a cage for the rest of eternity? She's a free spirit. She likes dance parties and being with her friends and being her own person. You didn't like being a prisoner, so why are you doing the same to her?"
The traitorous part of his head told him that Dipper was right.
"So if you're doing all this for Mabel…please reconsider. I'm not the enemy here. I'm not the one keeping her imprisoned. You know who is." His hand slipped off of his shoulder, and his gaze drifted down to the red stain slowly spreading across his pants leg. "I'll go get some bandages and things…be right back."
He turned away and retreated up the stairs. The door slammed shut behind him with a deep thud.
Dipper Pines...was very confusing.
He hated confusing.
What? I actually put up another chapter quickly for once? Well, never fear, because you might even get another one before the week is up if I can get my butt to work instead of lazing around (though the next chapter is actually almost finished so it's really only a matter of editing stuff).
Any who, I've kind of got a rough outline of how long this fic will be; relatively short, maybe twenty chapters, tops? Depends, I suppose.
Well, until next time, I love reading your reviews and I love replying to them. (Though I'm completely useless most of the time, I do reply eventually!)
