So, that episode. Holy crap. Maybe my favorite of the whole season.

By the way, I hope you guys don't mind if, since this story was started before the two-part finale, some of the 'big-picture' mysteries are different than they ended up being in the show's canon. I know I asked it a few chapters ago, but I wanted to make sure.

All of you reviewers ROCK. Big shout-out to the guests that I can't message a thank-you to, as well as everyone who's been supplying ideas and suggestions. I'm thrilled that this story is getting so much attention; I can't thank you guys enough!

[]

It occurs to me that we should be sleeping.

"Wop!" Mabel throws a pillow at my head. "Looks like I win again!"

I laugh, blocking it with my arm. "Not even close!"

"Yeah, I do. All of the arguments." She jumps to her feet, balancing on her bed like a surfboard. "Mabel wins everything!"

I shake my head, grinning. "What about Stan? He's basically acted the same way ever since we met him."

"Oh, he could change!" She starts bouncing, laughing as she tumbles to the blankets each time. "I'm telling you, people can always surprise you!"

I snort. "Yeah, it'll surprise me if he ever stops swindling people out of their money."

"Exactly! Hah!"

"What?" Pausing, I scratch my head. "No, that's- That's not proving your point!"

In answer, she just sticks out her tongue. I roll my eyes, falling back onto my own pillow.

"Okay, how 'bout Soos?" She doesn't sound half as tired as I feel.

"Whaddya mean?" I mumble.

"Well, didja know he was in a cooking school for a while?"

I sit back up. "What? I've seen that guy eat a sandwich that he found under the fridge. You're telling me he cares about fine dining and all that?"

She excitedly points at my face. "See?! Right there! Surprise! Zow!" She falters a bit at my skeptical expression. "Well, he didn't exactly graduate. But still!"

I yawn, rubbing my eyes. "Mabel, people are basically the same, no matter how much they try to change. It's pretty obvious."

"Oh, boo!" She frowns, tilting her head. "Don't say depressing junk like that! Why you gotta be so sick-nickel?"

"Um. What." A few seconds pass before I make the connection. "Oh, you mean cynical? I dunno, I guess maybe because it's the truth?" Grinning again, I point back at her. "You're always goofy and bright, and you assume the best of people; that's not gonna change."

She gasps. "What? You think I'm goofy?"

Blinking, I start stuttering. "What? Um, I just meant-"

"I can't believe you, Dipper!" She puts her hands on her hips, glaring at me. "How dare you say something like that?!" With a huff, she throws herself onto her bed and rolls onto her side.

"Oh, man... I'm really sorry, okay?" I stand up, holding my hands out at my sides. "I didn't mean anything by it, I just... I thought you liked being goofy!"

She doesn't say a word. Sighing, I take a few steps closer. "Mabel, will you just say someth-"

"Gotcha!" Whirling around, she throws another pillow. It collides with my face, nearly knocking me back to my own bed.

"Ow! What the-" Her laughter cuts me off, as she jumps up and starts dancing in circles.

"Win win win!" I reluctantly smile, sitting back down.

She stops. "Oh, and Dipper-" With a glint in her eye, she giggles once more. "I didn't say everyone could change 'n stuff. I said everyone can surprise you."

[]

"I didn't do it."

He calmly sets down his suitcase on the bed. "What's that, Dipper?" He says my name with emphasis, with a punch.

"Even if I knew how, I'd never do anything to your parents." I try to keep the trembling out of my voice.

"Oh, I already knew that." He sits down, tiny legs swinging up. "The kind police-man explained everythin' on the drive over." Every word is separated, and enunciated carefully.

He could be trying to trick me. Switching between manic and normal, just to mess with my head. Or worse- he might be genuinely glad that the people I care about are gone.

But maybe not. "So how'd you know about the journal?" I ask casually.

He smiles. "You may be good at uncoverin' secrets, but not keepin' 'em, Dipper." Now it's like a curse word.

I glance back to the bedroom door, but the music from down the hallway tells me Robbie's still holed up in his room. "Do you have one, too?" I ask.

He doesn't bat an eye. "No."

This is infuriating. "Then how do you know about-"

Gideon sighs loudly, stretching his arms over his head. "Oh, I do hate to interrupt, but I don't see any particular reason to tell you anythin'."

I suddenly remember why I can't stand this kid. "Hold on- you know something about why they're gone?"

He giggles, a short, high-pitched noise that seems to merely slip out. "Maybe, maybe not. 'S obvious your precious book didn't help you none, so you know nothin' that could help me."

The music has stopped. Gideon crosses his arms, smirking. "Therefore, I have nothin' that I'm willin' to tell you."

"Wait." I turn to see Robbie, walking past the doorway. He puts one hand on the frame, staring at Gideon. "What'd you say?" he asks angrily.

The psychic shrinks back a bit. "I, er, I said that-"

In a flash, he's in the room. Reaching down, he grabs Gideon by the front of his shirt and pulls him close. "Six people are missing," he growls, then lifts the kid up to eye level. "If you know why, or how we can get her back, you better spill it, short stuff."

Suspended in the air, Gideon flutters his arms in a panic. "You wouldn't hurt lil' ole me, would'ya?" he squawks.

Robbie glances at me.

Ah, memories.

He looks back to Gideon. "Believe me, I would."

I'm staring, slack-jawed, as Robbie throws Gideon back onto the bed, where he bounces with a small squeak. "Okay, hold yer horses!" he yells. Scrambling to open the lock on the suitcase, he flips it open to reveal... a book.

The golden, six-fingered hand gleams, while the number two etches itself in my mind. "So, you just lied?" I take a step toward him; probably not half as intimidating as Robbie, but it seems to do the trick.

He grabs the journal, shuddering as he tries to calm himself down. "Alrighty, lessee..." he mutters, flipping through the pages. "Aha!" He jabs a pudgy finger onto the faded writing. "Here it is!"

I lean in, entranced by the idea of new secrets, new mysteries. The handwriting is different than my journal. "What are we even looking at?" says Robbie, but I'm barely listening, focused on the line of text Gideon's pointing to.

-The key to it all is 1. DO NOT SOLVE THE RIDDL-

The page is torn, right through the last word. "What's the riddle?" I wonder, more to myself than anyone else.

"What? No, that's not the point!" Gideon waves his hand irritably, pointing back to the first part. "Even this writer knows there's somethin' special 'bout the first journal."

I don't look up from the page. "So?"

He snaps the book shut. "So, you've got 3. People 'round you up and vanish. I've got the next one, same thing happens the day after."

Some of the pieces are starting to come together. "You think it's some kind of countdown?" I say quietly.

He shrugs. "I'm thinkin' we'll find out tomorrow." It's not much to go on, but it's something.

"Hey, Treehouse Club!" We both look up, startled. Robbie's crossing his arms, staring down at the journal. "Somebody wanna tell me what's going on?"

I take a deep breath. "Well, see, there are these books..."

[]

Half awake, I sit up and listen. Faint crying is coming from across the room; Mabel must be having a bad dream or something.

I stumble a few steps towards the other bed. "Hey, Mabel," I whisper. "Wake up."

I put a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her. "It's okay, just-"

Just before Robbie's startled face looks up at me, everything comes crashing back into my memory. My friends have vanished. I'm in Robbie V.'s house. Gideon's staying here, too, in another room.

And… I just heard him crying?

"What're you doing, kid?!" he yells. Suddenly awake, I stammer out an apology before tripping backwards and knocking my head against a coffee table.

Robbie's sitting up, and he looks halfway between concerned and mad. "What's your problem, anyway?" he sneers, but his heart's not in it.

Gingerly touching the back of my head, I mumble, "I thought- I heard, um, I just-"

"You boys doin' alright?" Durland is standing in the entryway, holding a flashlight and rubbing his eyes.

Turning, Robbie quickly moves his sleeve across his face. "Yeah, we're fine." He glances back down at me, then reluctantly holds out his hand.

I take it, letting him pull me to my feet. "Junior just had a nightmare. Fell outa bed." He nods toward me, almost as if he's daring me to protest.

In an instant, a memory from the afternoon jumps into my mind. Robbie was threatening Gideon, and he said 'If you know how we can get them back, you better-'

No. He said something else, it was...

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he does care.

Looking back at Durland, I say quietly, "Yeah. Just a nightmare."

He sighs, turning off the light. "Well, in that case, g'night." Without wasting a second, he leaves down the hallway.

For a few seconds, I'm left blinking, standing in the middle of the room. Robbie's already back in bed, turned towards the wall.

I wonder if he thinks I was covering for him.

I crawl under the blanket, trying to turn my head so the hurting area isn't touching the pillow.

Truth is, I was just too tired to argue.

[]

Way back in chapter 2, a guest reviewer named EdgeChronicles01 simply wrote, as a potential answer for why Dipper didn't vanish, "The book protected him." That idea spawned into Gideon's inclusion in the story; if you're still reading this, props to you!

If it wasn't clear, Dipper and Gideon explained everything they know about the journals 2 and 3 to Robbie. I figured it would be kinda boring to hash over it all, especially since most of Robbie's questions would probably be answered with, "We don't know."