Ladies and gentlemen. Gravity Falls has officially been renewed for a Season 2.

Onwards, Aoshima.

[]

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I won't do it again." I try to open the car door, but it's locked.

Stan drums his fingers on the steering wheel, glancing up at the Mystery Shack sign. "Just a sec, kid. Think it's time me and you had a little talk."

"You said so yourself. It's late." For no particular reason, I strain at the handle again. "I should be in bed."

He frowns. "Doesn't seem like you're takin' this seriously."

"I just don't know what the big deal is," I mutter, shifting in the car's seat.

"You just... you can't keep tryin' to do everything alone. What if you went and got yourself lost, huh?" He's looking at me, but I pointedly turn towards the window. "We wouldn't know you were gone 'till morning, and by then it could be too-"

With a snort, I cut him off. "Too late? What, you think I'm gonna get myself killed out there? Don't trust me to take care of myself?"

"It's not about trust, kid!" he yells. Startled, I shrink back as he continues. "Like it or not, your folks asked me to look after you two, so I'm not gonna let anything happen. When ya get back to California, you can wander around forests in the middle of the night as much as ya want, but not here, alright?!"

Slowly, I feel resentment building up. "Oh, 'cause you care so much about us," I say bitterly.

Face red, he stares at me. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I'm too tired to filter everything I'm thinking, so it all rushes out. "We don't matter to you at all!" I shout. "To you, we're just employees- even better, since you don't have to pay us! You never got to know us, you never ask what we want to do; Mabel told you our birthday was coming up, and you just asked if we'd want time off!"

I blink rapidly, trying not to let Stan see tears forming. "You have no idea how to take care of us," I choke out. I might be exaggerating now, but I don't care. "You do whatever you want, dragging us with half the time, never wondering if this stuff might be dangerous, or even illegal; I mean, you had us counterfeiting money!"

He tries to say something, but I don't let him. "I was out there at night because you wanted us to try to fix that stupid golf cart all day. I finally found something I like in this town- exploring, and now you won't even let me?" I give a short laugh, but the crying cuts off my voice. "You're probably just worried that if something happens to me, you're gonna get in trouble!"

I lean forward, putting my head in my hands. I try to keep the sobbing quiet, but it's pretty obvious.

Stan doesn't say anything. I can hear him sighing, and he gently puts a hand on my shoulder. I shrug him off.

"Can I go inside?" I ask roughly.

He nods, silent. After he unlocks the door, I swing it open and jump to the ground, angrily slamming it behind me.

Grass. Outdoor steps. Shack floor. Staircase. With each step, the realization sinks in that I was probably being unfair to Stan. Maybe he really was worried about me.

I climb into bed, too exhausted to be angry anymore. I'll apologize tomorrow. I can make it right.

I wake up to an empty house.

[]

If I could only use one word to describe Gideon, it would be 'confident.' Every time I see him, it's like he knows exactly what he wants, and he's completely in charge of the situation.

So when I see him, pacing around his front lawn, I'm stunned. His hair is a mess, his skin is paler than usual, and he actually seems… thin. Not skinny, exactly, but gaunt; especially his face. His eyes, blinking over dark circles, widen in fear when he sees us. I can't believe that one day can change someone's appearance so much.

I wonder if I look the same.

Blubs walks towards him, slowly, arms spread wide, as if approaching a frightened animal. "Hey, Lil' Gideon," he says quietly. "Don't worry, we're not-"

"What's HE doin' here?" he shrieks, pointing straight at me. "Keep'im away from me!"

Nervous, Durland steps between us. "He's here 'cause we thought there might be some kind'a link between these cases. Now, Dipper here might know somethin' about-"

Gideon interrupts him again. "NO! He can't be- he's gonna-" he stops, eyes twitching. "Wait… of course!" He's actually trembling, and a half-grin spreads over his face. "It was YOU!"

As Durland turns to face me, surprised, Gideon takes his chance. Darting past the policeman, he leaps towards me, arms flying. I barely step back before he's on top of me, knocking us both to the ground.

Only inches away from me, he doesn't look evil.

One of his punches lands, striking my jaw.

He looks terrified.

"You have it, isn't that right?" he whispers. "But why would the third one make its way to lil' ole you?"

I block another swing, gripping his right hand with mine, before shoving him off of me with my left. He falls back, winded, and it's enough time for Blubs to grab his shoulders and hold him back.

Standing, I wince at the pain in my jaw. Gideon is grinning again, but it's not sincere; I can still see the fear in his expression.

"I know yer secret, Dipper Pines!" he yells as Blubs leads him back to his house. "I know what you did!"

What… what's he talking about? I'm vaguely aware of Durland's hand on my shoulder, guiding me back to the car, but I can't get my mind off of those words.

Gideon knows I have the journal.

Gideon thinks there's a spell to make people disappear.

Gideon thinks I would… tear his parents out of his life.

I don't know what causes me to tense up- anger, fear, frustration- but I physically can't step into the car. Concerned, Durland bends down to look me in the face.

"You alright, son?" he drawls. My voice fails me, and I simply shake my head sideways. He frowns, but helps me into the front seat.

As we're leaving, I look back towards the Gleeful property. That billboard stares back at me, Gideon's winking face smiling out at the world.

I can feel it again. That anger, the rage I've felt towards him, towards Robbie, even Stan sometimes… it's strong.

I shiver, trying to force those thoughts away. I would never wish something like that on anyone. I wouldn't.

[]

Robbie's sitting on the couch, picking at his guitar. I lean against the wall in silence for a few minutes.

"Why didn't you come with?" I ask. His blank stare out the window doesn't waver.

"Dad said you didn't learn anything." He tunes a string at random, letting the pitch slide up and down.

"We might've."

He finds the right spot, then moves on to the next one. "Thought you said to stay out of each other's way."

E, A, D, G, B, then E again. Like nothing's wrong. He's just sitting there, playing that stupid guitar. I grit my teeth. "I know, but it's like you don't even care."

He stops. Still holding one hand over the strings, he closes his eyes. "Don't ever say that, kid."

I fight off the urge to apologize again. "Tell me I'm wrong, then." He's positively shaking now. I don't know why I keep pushing him, but I do. "You don't care. Simple as that."

In one motion, he drops the guitar and stands up, towering over me. There's fire in his eyes, but before he can say a word, the door swings open.

Looking much calmer than before, Gideon is standing in the doorway, holding a silver suitcase and glancing around in disdain at the cluttered entryway. Behind him, the two policemen are standing in the front yard, probably having the same conversation they had about me.

Robbie mutters something about a 'freakin' day-care', then slings the guitar over his shoulder and trudges off to his room.

I'm speechless. Sure, part of me knew Gideon would need a place to stay, but…

"Dipper." He nods curtly before brushing past me and making his way down the hall. He couldn't be more different from the wild-eyed, angry kid that I saw earlier.

Just like that, I'm left alone in the living room.