I don't really have an explanation for why this chapter took two months to write. So, if you'd like, you can make one up. Maybe I was abducted by aliens, or became trapped in a time loop, or accidentally triggered an electrical storm that destroyed the internet capabilities of half the Eastern Seaboard. Or all of those things. The point is, I am NOT leaving this for dead. And so, like an 80's big-hair band on a 'comeback' tour, the story is back. Again. With a vengeance. For real. THE SEQUEL.

Also, to anyone who's still following this three-toed pygmy sloth of an update schedule, I sincerely thank you for putting up with me. I really am sorry about the wait, and I'll try my best to do better.

[]

No one should be sick in summer.

My head is pounding, and my stomach feels like it might heave at any second. I'm parked on the sofa, trying my best not to move, blinking at the TV.

"Hey, kid."

I change the channel, ignoring him. "Dipper, come on."

"Grunkle Stan, get out of the way." He doesn't budge, glaring down at me with his arms crossed.

"I need your help here, kid." he says. He grabs the remote from my hand. "There's this new attraction for the Shack. Gotta make sure it'll fool the rabble."

"I don't care." But he's already turned the TV off. "Look, I'm- I don't feel so good."

"Nice try," he snorts. "Your sister and Wendy had the same excuse. You little slackers aren't gettin' outta this one."

Rubbing my forehead, I wince. "No, I'm serious. I think something's wrong."

He shoots me a dark look. "Just get over here."

He wanders into the hallway. When I slowly follow, he's standing in front of a bedsheet, draped floor-to-ceiling and covering part of the wall. "So whaddya think?"

I stare. "I think it's a sheet."

His cane clicks against the floorboards. "Hilarious. Just- watch, okay?" Lifting a corner, he slips behind the white fabric. Now I can see him clearly outlined in the folds, still facing me.

Then he's gone. The sheet falls back, until it's pressed against the wall. Stan has, more or less, vanished.

I raise my eyebrows. "Huh. Pretty good." Curious, I move it out of the way to reveal the wall. "But, you might want to get rid of the doorknob."

The well-disguised door that once led to the Wax Museum is actually pretty obvious now that I take a good look at it. I reach to open it, but Stan swings it forward and stomps out, glowering. "You weren't supposed to peek, kid."

I shrug. "Really? You know some skeptical city kid's gonna try it, right?"

He grunts. "So, pretty much you."

"Yeah."

Narrowing his eyes, he frowns. "Hm. Good point." He lifts the 'curtain' again, glancing over the hidden door. "Maybe it needs more... you know. Bells and whistles. Pizzazz. Make 'em so impressed with the presentation, they won't even think twice about handing over their sweet, sweet tourist money. That's like regular money, but stupider."

"Maybe." I grin slightly, trying to ignore the headache. "That usually works, I guess."

He huffs. "Try always. Always works. And even if it doesn't, you gotta take risks sometimes."

I pause. That's kind of a weird thing for him to say. "Risks?" I ask. "With money? You?"

With a snort, he taps the fabric with his cane. "The Sheet of Mystery didn't exactly strain the budget, kid." He turns, surveying the rest of the Shack. "But yeah, risks have been pretty good to your grunkle. How'd ya think I got this whole deal started?"

"Well, I guess-" Nausea wells up again in my gut, and I stumble backwards. Catching the edge of the wall, I fall through the entryway and end up on my back, staring up at the ceiling of the living room.

Ow.

"Whoa!" I think Stan's kneeling next to me, but I can't really see him. "Kid, you alright?"

I blink. The light hurts my eyes.

"Just-" He mutters something else, and gingerly helps me up. I unsteadily reach for the couch, and he nods, sitting down next to me. "There ya go."

I try to say something, but it ends up a weak cough. Stan pats my back awkwardly. "Hey, uh... sorry," he says quietly. "Shouda believed ya."

I nod. It's a mistake, and my head starts aching all over again. "Hey," I say. "Risks, right?"

Leaning back, he grins. "Sure."

I slowly put my head in my hands. Stan looks around the room, twiddling his thumbs. "Look, Dip," he begins. "You can, y'know, take the day off." He hesitates, like he wants to say something else.

My head hurts too much for any sarcastic remarks. "Thanks," I mumble.

He crosses his arms. "I guess I kinda took a chance with you and Mabel, too." I glance up, but he's looking off into the distance. "I had no idea if I'd be able to look after you goofs. I never really, well-"

He sighs. "I never had kids."

I guess it shouldn't be surprising- I probably would've met them at reunions, or something- but it still feels important to hear him say it. "At first, I just thought 'How hard can it be?' But then-" He shakes his head. "With everything that's happened, I still don't know if I can keep ya both safe. Y'know, like..."

He looks away. "Like a parent."

I don't find my voice for a while. I'm staring blankly at the floor, waiting for him to roughly wipe his eyes. "Anyway, I hope ya feel better." He abruptly stands, taking a few steps towards the hall.

I cough again. "You're doing fine."

Stan pauses. Looking up, I give a small smile. "Really. Mabel's happy, and I'm-"

My voice catches. Probably just the headache. "It's been a good summer."

He blinks. "Thanks, kid."

...

That's not the last thing I tell him before they're gone.

[]

Robbie holds the phone to his ear. "Alright. No, it's no trouble. Just glad they're okay. Yeah." He slips it in his pocket, shaking his head. "Can't believe this."

I'm sitting on the hood of the car, glancing up at the sky. It's getting darker, almost evening. "False alarm?" I ask.

He nods. "This town's going crazy," he says quietly. "A few people forget to turn on their phones, and suddenly- panic."

With a jump, I land on the forest floor. "So what now?"

Robbie sighs. "We go home, I guess." He's not acknowledging what we shared before. Our fear that this might be too much to handle, or our fear that we're both losing our sanity. I'm not about to bring it up, either.

"What?" I frown. "After all that, we're just gonna start over?"

He swings the door open, climbing in the front seat. "This was our lead, kid. No choice now but to wait for our next break."

"No way." I move to the opposite side of the car. "We had a lot going with this one. The clues, the sweatshirt-"

He glares at me. "We don't know anything." It's exaggerating, but he's closer to the truth than I am.

I brace my arms against the door, looking through the window. "We're not done," I insist. "There has to be more. Something else we can do."

"Look, I hate this as much as you, alright?" He has the key in the ignition. "It sucks, but we gotta wait again."

There isn't a sound when he turns the key. Swearing, he tries again, and the car eventually rumbles to life.

An idea is starting to form in my mind. "What if we don't?" I say slowly.

Scowling, he looks back to me. "Huh?"

I throw the door open. "Maybe we don't have to wait for something to just happen again." I can't keep the excitement out of my voice when I sit down. "What if we make it happen this time?"

I have his attention. He leans back with a new look in his eyes. "How's that?" he asks carefully.

"We can't tell anyone else what we know, right? Or else those- things go after them." I pause, waiting for him to nod. "But we can see them at night. And for some reason, we can keep them away with the book."

He hasn't put it together. "Right."

I take a deep breath, hoping this doesn't sound completely insane. "I think it's time to go on the offensive."

Robbie doesn't say anything. "We could set a trap. If we tell someone all we know about this, they'll be a target. If they're a target, we know exactly who's going to disappear next."

He exhales. "And we can be waiting for them," he says slowly. One hand on the wheel, he rubs his eyes. "Kid, that's... Wow."

He's quiet for a few seconds. "Let's do it."

It doesn't feel like I should be smiling, but I am. "Really?"

He nods. "I meant it, Dipper. I'm sick of waiting." He looks forward, at the setting sun. "But are you ready?"

I pause. "Well, yeah. I have the book, and-"

"Even if that works again," he cuts in, "it might not matter. Last time, the thing just slipped away." His expression grows darker. "Besides, we'll be gambling with someone's life here. If we mess up, they'll be taken. Or worse."

I hadn't thought of it like that. But he isn't looking at me, and he's shifting the car into drive, and we're slowly approaching the forest road. Looking up at the cracked windshield, he grits his teeth. "Dad would kill me for driving a wreck like this," he mumbles.

I guess the decision's already been made.

[]

It's strange, trying to decide who we should tell. But it has to be somebody noticeable, someone who can tell everyone in town if they don't get to him or her in time. If I'm right, and there's something or someone behind all this, they'll have to play their hand.

For a second, he doesn't even move, one hand braced against the frame of his front door. He gapes up at us with a blank stare.

I suddenly feel a twinge of regret. We're risking his life, but now that I see him up close... he looks helpless. Confused. Heck, he looks smaller than Gideon.

Robbie snaps his fingers. "Hey! You heard me, right?"

Toby Determined blinks a few times, nodding furiously. "Well, yes! Hrm, this is certainly, well, a stunning development!" His nasally, closed-off voice squeaks with fear. "But what do you want me to do?"

Robbie glances down at me. I square my shoulders. "We need you to get this story out, as fast as you can. If people know about it, maybe they can..." I trail off.

"They'll be able to protect themselves." Robbie is completely calm, without a trace of uncertainty.

"Well, I'll be!" Toby nervously adjusts his glasses. "I'm not sure if, hrm, I can write up something like this- after all, it's clearly a tense situation!"

Robbie sighs in frustration, about to argue, when the reporter's eyes light up. "But wait! This could be- yes, this could really be the story of a lifetime!" He's practically dancing in place, bouncing with energy. "The reporter who saved Gravity Falls! Heavens to Betsy, I can't wait!"

He springs forward and grasps Robbie's hand, shaking furiously. "I'll use you both as witnesses! Now, off to, hrm, write that article!" Just like that, he's already gone, slamming the door behind him.

With a shrug, Robbie turns back to the driveway. "Well, that was easy." I hear him pause. "Kid?"

This was a mistake.

I'm staring at the house's door, and I can't shake the feeling that something is wrong. "Hey, what is it?" Robbie asks.

"I don't like lying to people." It sounds dumb, and childish, and I knew we'd have to do this, so why would it bother me now? I expect him to snap at me. To tell me this was my idea, and I can't back out now.

But he doesn't. He just sighs. "Yeah. Me neither."

I think it's finally hitting me. What Robbie said earlier- this isn't just some new idea I'm trying out. This isn't a theory, or a game, or a mystery from the book. If this goes wrong...

It'll be my fault. Again.

I'm tensed up, but I'm able to keep the fear under control this time. It's not like it was before, but I can still feel it- my throat, starting to constrict-

"But it has to be him," Robbie finishes. With a start, I realize he didn't notice that anything was wrong. I nod, focusing on the conversation.

"Right." When I turn back, my eye catches the horizon. It isn't exactly night yet, but the sun has already set, so there's no direct light. If I'm right...

We both look to the car's dashboard. That sweatshirt is just sitting there, plain as day. Robbie nods. "Good. Everything's ready."

"So, I guess now we just... wait." I say quietly. "Again."

He snorts. "Pretty much."

The house isn't large. One story, with a couple windows dotting each of the four brick walls. And we're just standing in front of it, staring at the front door. It'd be pretty bizarre, if anyone was watching us.

"How'd they get in last time?" Robbie asks suddenly.

"The windows, I think."

He curses quietly. "Better cover those, too." He stalks off to one side of the house, but snarls and heads back. "They could get in from anywhere."

I try to ignore the thoughts that this is all unraveling. "We'll have to keep an eye on the whole house," I say. He shrugs and faces his side again, while I move around to the opposite side, so the bulk of the house is between us.

Back against the wall, I pull the journal out of my jacket and face the road. Nothing's moving but a bird, hopping along a tree branch back by the driveway. Maybe Robbie's having better luck on the forest side. "See anything?" I call out.

He doesn't answer. I frown. "Robbie?"