Hi there, I'm back with another chapter!

I have a question for you all; would you prefer shorter chapters more often, or longer chapters less often? At the moment I'm trying to put one up every few days, about a thousand words each. After this fic is done, I usually go back and put chapters together so I can make them longer, but for now this is the length they're gonna be. But it's up to you guys what you'd like to see from me, so feel free to message me and tell me!

I'm really loving all the reviews and such, how you are all enjoying the story so far! Please, keep telling me your thoughts and such!

Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls.


Dipper Pines had changed since the start of Weirdmageddon, Gideon was starting to notice. A lot. The boy wasn't an anxious mess like he'd once been – in fact, Gideon would hasten to say he looked dangerous. His face had this look about it, one that said, 'I'll rip out your throat and shit down your neck if you make one wrong move.' His eyebrows were almost permanently drawn down in a frown, eyes deep set and hardened. His mouth had an odd twitch to it, like he was trying to stay as impassive as possible, though his face was trying to fight into a scowl. Gideon felt envious of the fact that he'd shot up to six feet, while he was only just passing the five foot mark.

Dipper slammed the door shut behind him as he made his way downstairs, making him jump a little. It sent a hard throb through his leg. The war for schooled features had lost, it seemed, because the older teens mouth was pulled down with such ferocity that Gideon was ready for him to come and bite his arm off.

"So are you gonna fix ma leg then?" He asked after a moment, hand pressed over the wound in his leg.

Dipper paused at the bottom of the stairs, a pile of rags in his arms. "Clearly," he said dryly.

"Well hurry up, then," he couldn't help but bite out.

"Shut up. Do you want me to turn you into a paraplegic?" Dipper asked rhetorically.

Gideon fell silent. Yes, this boy – no, not a boy anymore – was a far cry from the twelve year old he'd fought so readily all those years ago.

Dipper's broad shoulders hunched defensively as he made his way over to him, narrowed eyes never leaving his face. Gideon squeezed his eyes shut to try fend off the throbbing in his leg.

A few moments later, the bed had dipped down and Dipper was dropping the rags on the covers. He unrolled them, revealing a roll of bandages and a set of tweezers inside. Gideon made a light squealing sound as Dipper snatched a knife from a sheath on his thigh, spinning it so he was holding the handle loosely in his grasp. "Stay still," he ordered, his free hand gripping his shoulder. His tone was cold. "You move an inch and I shoot your goddamn brains out. Clear?"

Despite the wound in his leg, Gideon felt in him the desire to argue. "You wouldn't," he tried, scrabbling for some sort of defense. Dipper released him. Hard metal between his eyebrows certainly stopped any arguments on his part.

"Try me."

Gideon stiffened at the soft click of the gun, staring at Dipper. Their eyes didn't waver for a few moments, angry, if a little fearful blue on cool dispassionate brown. But then Dipper blinked and the stand-off was broken. After some time, he pulled the gun away, putting it back in his jacket, or at least, the holster Gideon was now sure was hidden there. No way he could have gotten it out that fast otherwise.

Quickly, Dipper took the knife and pressed it against his leg, just above the dried red of the injury, and cut away the fabric. Gideon gripped the blanket under him in one tightly clenched fist. Dipper sawed through it roughly until he could rip the last of it away with his hand. He slashed it in half down the middle so it fell away from his leg. Dipper tossed the knife back into the sheath on his leg, yanking the fabric from under his leg. The piece of material went around his leg, above the bullet protruding from the wound. Dipper crossed the two ends, tightening them around his leg. Gideon fought back a wince, face twisting at the strange feeling. He wanted to ask what Dipper was doing, but a quick glance at the peek of metal from under his jacket decided that maybe right now wasn't the best time.

"This is gonna hurt," Dipper said, and before Gideon could register just what the heck he was going to do, tweezers had dug into the skin around the bullet, grabbed hold, and then Gideon's leg wasn't just on fire, it was like it had been dunked straight into a vat of pure boiling hell.

His cry started as a gentle whine, before turning into a sharp noise of pain as the offending metal was pulled out. He couldn't stop the hunching of his body, coiling over as tremors rocketed through his system, a sob ripping from his throat. His head fell into Dipper's arm, and with an annoyed scoff, the older teen was grabbing him by his hair, yanking him backwards and away from him. He gripped Gideon's leg hard, nails biting into the exposed skin as he began winding the bandage over the bleeding injury. The fabric from his pants leg was loosened every so slightly, and he felt blood flow back into the appendage. It didn't take long for the bandage to slowly turn red.

"Oh, get over it," Dipper snapped at him as he stood up, staring down at Gideon. His head was tilted up, though he glared down at him. He felt small – smaller – under Dipper's glare. Like he was dirt. Filth. He didn't think anyone other than Bill had ever made him feel so utterly pathetic. Pathetic was…pathetic was, well pathetic. "A little pain never hurt anybody."

"What in God's name happened to you, Pines?" Gideon spit out, holding his hand to the bandages.

That gun was pointed at him again, and Dipper's teeth were clenched so tight he could almost imagine them cracking within his mouth. "The Dipper Pines you knew is dead, Gideon" he stated. Gideon watched him, bracing his arm behind him on the bed, pupils like quarters. The barrel of the gun hit his head hard, and Dipper punctuated each word he spoke next with a hard push of the metallic weapon against the side of his head. "Don't. Mistake. Me. For. Him." The gun pulled back, Dipper's hand clenched around it. He barely noticed the slight quiver to his grip, but it was there. It was definitely there. "Do I make myself clear?"

"…Crystal," Gideon muttered.

"Then we won't have a problem." Dipper's icy voice shivered down Gideon's spine. The glint in the older teenagers eyes warned him to stand down.

And stand down he did.

He wasn't crazy; sure he got angry at people, sure he usually got what he wanted, but he was by no means stupid enough to fight someone who clearly had more experience at this type of thing than he did.

Dipper retreated up the stairs, yanking it open. "Oh – and try to keep your leg elevated. I don't want you bleeding all over the place."

Once again, Gideon was left locked away in a cell.


Here we are, next chapter completed! This one was fun to write, actually, and there are a few bits and pieces that I'm really looking forward to you guys reading within the next couple of chapters

Anyway, thank you for reading and reviewing! As always, until next time!