Now she knew how the twins must have felt. Every familiar thing she saw and heard and felt was no longer that at all; Wendy had become an alien in her own home, quite literally. Sadness and panic formed an icy pit in her stomach – she had to swallow them and stop crying so no one would call the police. Or her father. The redhead sat to the left of the gas station's front door, clinging to her knees and waiting for her way out. How much of a head start she'd gotten was anyone's guess.

Familiar cars drove past on the highway. Some of them were even driven by kids she knew from school, bringing on a train of thought that moved her dangerously close to tears again. "Where did my life go?" she whispered. Where it would go now proved too difficult a thing to think about. "I wish this day would end already. Man."

The arrival of Summer's gleaming red Audi provided some relief. The red-eyed woman was driving, though her sister was nowhere to be seen. Wendy dashed to the car and struggled to open the door with her shaking hand. "I don't know what to say," Summer admitted after she was safely inside. "Your father knew?"

Wendy slumped back and hid her eyes. "Can we just go?"

Her face twisted sadly. They departed the station and started up route 33, snaking a path through the ancient forest. Summer provided as much peace as she could, keeping her mouth shut and turning down the radio until its music was a whisper in the background. Even after Wendy revealed her face with a sigh and straightened she stayed quiet.

"Somebody's gonna tell him I'm at your house," she said. "I don't want to go home. I don't—I..." Her voice faded into a growl as she clutched the sides of her head. "Why would he make me forget? What happened? Did I do something bad?"

"Deal with it when you know. Don't start making up disasters to fret over until then," Summer advised gently. "You don't have to go anywhere, but I think you should talk to him. Let him fill in the blanks for you. What if he comes to us? Would that make you feel better about seeing him?"

As much as she wanted to cry again, the tears wouldn't fall. "M-maybe. I just... I wonder if he's done the same to my brothers. Should I tell them? Or should I just leave them alone?" Her weary eyes pierced the windshield, staring more into her uncertain future than at the road ahead. "What happens to me now, man?"

"I would be lying if I said I knew."

"Yeah." Wendy fought her seat belt and tried to get comfortable. A constant stream of positive vibes came from the spectral companion in her brain, but they served only as a reminder of her plight. "Please, just be quiet," she muttered to herself. Despite it being what she wanted, the sudden silence made her frown. "Oh. You—you actually listened."

"You're so lucky yours will actually shut up," Summer grumbled, then blinked at the redhead's confused face. "Nothing!"

"Riiiight." Her mind wandered to a relatively less distressing topic. "How about that chick we found? How's she doing?"

Now it was Summer's turn to gaze into the infinite distance. The wailing song nearly drowned out the rest of the valley's magical cloud, shining down from the hill like a lighthouse. "I don't think she can function anymore, if she was ever able to in the first place. We don't know what to do with her." Sullen silence filled the car. "Oh, I should warn you: someone else is watching us. They left a note on our door."

The sadness drained from Wendy's eyes so anger could take its place. "Are you fucking kidding me?!" she said loudly, slapping her forehead.

Summer couldn't help but smile at her curse. "My sentiments exactly. They claim to be a friend, but the last time someone spied on us it didn't go very well. I'm suspicious to say the least."

"God. I just wanna run away."

Her ruby eyes narrowed sadly. "We've been running for a long time. It doesn't work." That statement more or less killed anyone's willingness to speak until she pulled up at a red light and had a chance to think. "Can I ask you something?"

Wendy blinked and stopped fussing with the backpack between her legs to look up. "Uh, sure. I guess."

"If you could eliminate the magic in Gravity Falls, would you?"

"Wow." She turned away and stared blankly ahead. "Well, I mean... on one hand, it's what makes Gravity Falls what it is. On the other hand, it's messed up as hell."

"What's messed up about it?"

"The-" Her face dropped as she paused in consideration. "Wait. The magic itself ain't the messed up part, it's what people did with it. I don't know what I'd do, honestly."

Summer nodded in agreement. "Neither do I."

Dipper continued to creep along despite being well out of range of the person who he was trying not to disturb. He went so far as to tiptoe down the stairs and into the living room, where a bemused Stan watched his effort to remain quiet. "Uh, why are you tiptoeing on carpet?"

"I don't wanna wake up Mabel," he whispered before sitting down gingerly.

He looked over his shoulder at the wall and blinked. "She'd never hear you down—never mind. I guess it can't hurt. How was she?"

"The best way I can put it is burnt out. She's exhausted. I think she actually cried herself unconscious." Dipper watched a few seconds of Why You Ackin' So Cray-Cray while collecting himself. "I don't feel much better."

"I can tell. That's why I want you to back off a little. Take a breather."

"I know, but..." Soos' arrival with a large red bowl made him trail off. "Hey, man. So that's what that smell was." He peeked into it as the handyman sat down on his right. "Whoa. Nachos much?" An obnoxious growl from under his orange shirt made him blush. "I think I forgot to eat lunch."

"Help yourself, dude," Soos said, setting the bowl between them. "What were you guys talkin' about? More seriousness?"

"No." Dipper glanced up at Stan, who shrugged back. "Kinda. I want to get this over with. This whole thing."

"Kid, I've been in it for thirty years. I'm tellin' you, you need a break every once in a while. You're reminding me of me down there." Stan cackled at the face his great nephew made. "It's a compliment! And I never compliment anybody. I'm surprised I still remember how."

"Hey, what's the rush?" Soos asked around a mouthful of food. "Besides the possibly-imminent destruction of our planet and all."

Dipper emitted a few noises that were meant to be words before grumbling lowly. Stan chuckled and poked him in the back with his shoe. "You want to get it done with for Mabel's sake. Just say it."

"You're... you're right," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ever since we found out about what happened at the hospital she's been—I don't know how to explain it. It's like her smiles aren't as smiley as they used to be? Does that make sense?"

"Dude, for her it makes perfect sense. I mean, this place isn't what I thought it was, you know? Kinda getting me down too."

The boy offered Soos a weary smile. "Me and my stupid curiosity. If I'd left it alone, maybe we wouldn't be here now."

"Stanley would have scolded you for sayin' that, kid."

They looked over at Stan. "Hey, what was he like?" Dipper asked. "You haven't really talked much about him."

Settling back in the recliner, the old man's eyes darted about as he searched the past. "I dunno. He was kinda like you. Real smart. Even more awkward than me as a kid. Liked to read a lot. It was kinda hard for him to relate to people outside the family before the Seiferts got here. Talk about smart. They were barely older than kids themselves. I guess that's why we got along with 'em so well. Heh, they'd use so many five-dollar words I couldn't follow what they were sayin'. Anyway, after the war, Stanley did so well in high school he got a full scholarship to Oregon and majored in physics. Then he got a doctorate in physics. Point is, he was a genius. And... he was – is – a way more forgiving man than me."

Soos cocked a brow, so struck by those last words he postponed a mouthful of nachos. "Huh? How so?"

A vague shadow of anger darkened Stan's face, but his voice stayed even and calm. "Lemme show you two something." He rolled his eyes when they glanced at the bowl. "Bring the food. Geez. I'm kinda hungry myself." Their brief journey took them out of the shack and over to the bottomless pit, where all three stood around the edge and shot various expressions into the abyss. The old man drank up the silence of the forest and closed his eyes. "Hey, uh... Can I talk to you?" he asked the hole awkwardly. "Just you. You other guys can stay put. You know who I mean."

A single golden twinkle emerged from the pit after a few seconds' passage, darting around like a spectral firefly in the sunshine. It went straight to Stan, almost crashing into his nose. When he laughed, it hovered more slowly over to Dipper and ran circles around him as if curious. Soos waited for it to greet him with a wide smile but was left hanging. "Aw, dude, I wanna play with the golden mystery twinkle too."

"It doesn't mean anything bad, it... she doesn't know you is all." Stan held out his right hand, palm up, and let the sparkle land in it.

Dipper suddenly felt a distinct urge to shed his hat – and it wasn't the heat's fault. "She?"

"Her name was Serena. She is—was? I dunno how to put it, but she was gonna be Stanley's daughter. My niece," he explained, removing his fez and watching the dot of light bounce around against his skin. "Yeah. You did get a name, even if you never heard it."

"Dude, what happened to her?" Soos asked, shifting uncomfortably on his feet.

"I-" Stan looked down at Dipper, causing his voice to catch. "Maybe I shouldn't say."

He put a hand on his hip and stared back. "Grunkle Stan, you know I'm going to investigate if you don't. I'll probably regret it, but I will investigate. I can't help myself. It's like a stupid reflex or something."

"I know, kid." As Stan donned his fez again the sparkle took off, dancing an erratic path through the group at eye level. "She was killed by Wilhelm Seifert on June 14, 1963. When he told us that night, I wanted to kill him. But Stanley... look, he was mad, don't get me wrong." He turned his gaze to the blue sky above. "I don't know a word for how he acted. Like he understood why it had to be done, but it still hurt. I don't think Wilhelm could take it anymore. Not after havin' to kill the child of one of his friends, you know? Four days later, well, you know what happened."

Speechless and mouths agape, Dipper and Soos watched the golden twinkle fly in quick circles. It alighted on the bill of Soos' hat and bounced a few times. "I guess I should have known," the boy said after a while, "but wow. She was his last victim?" A thought made his brow crease. "No, the government's last victim. That we know of. In this particular proj—you know what, I'm going to stop talking and thinking before I start to cry."

"Good idea." Stan looked over at his supposed-to-be niece and smiled. "Go on back. We just wanted to say hello." That smiled faded as the light zipped off and back underground. He moved to the edge and watched it go until it faded from view. "Stanley never hated him. I hated him because it was easier. He was there. I could hate him. I couldn't hate some faceless military bureaucrats on the East Coast and all the scientists that were already dead. Wilhelm just made the best target."

"I guess I get that," Dipper admitted, putting his hat back on as well. "It doesn't make it right, but, you know." An idea finally tore his eyes from the grass. "Hey, he's in the graveyard. You guys could have a talk. We talked to him. I mean, if there's any bad blood left or anything."

"Maybe I should. Anyway, like I said, our family caught a lot of hell for being friends with them. Your grandparents took your dad and moved to Oakland. Stanley went back to Eugene, 'cause... Claire – his girlfriend – committed suicide on the 21st. She couldn't handle the grief. I don't know how he handled it. I don't know how I did. Or if I did." On the verge of tears, Stan needed a deep breath to stave them off. "I ended up livin' with Stanley for a couple of months, but I couldn't stand seeing him suffer like that. I felt so..." Trailing off, he removed his glasses and hid his eyes. "Helpless. So I became a vagabond. Sold vacuums out of my car in Portland for a while. Then the government came calling for both of us 'cause we were pretty close to the project. They wanted to make a deal." The sweat on his face and theirs stopped him from going any further. "Let's go back in. It's too hot out here to tell stories."

"Wait! What kind of deal?" Dipper demanded, running to catch up as he walked away.

"One I didn't take," Stan replied, glowering straight ahead. "One I wish I had."

"Does it have anything to do with the weird silver metal suitcase with the locks that has a bunch of spy gear in it?"

They stopped and looked at Soos after he spoke. Stan's expression was horrified annoyance; Dipper was just confused. "Excuse me?" the boy said. "What suitcase?"

"Oh, the one in the secret compartment under the cash register he doesn't think I know about." He regarded the old man's stare with a smile and another mouthful of nachos. "Woo. I put too many peppers in these," he joked while fanning himself. "What?"

The wheels were turning in Dipper's head, and when they stopped he eyed his great uncle with a frown. "You worked for the government, didn't you?"

"Uh, no. What government? There's no government. You're the government!" he replied frantically, shifty glances and hand motions becoming more exaggerated with every word. Before he could beat a hasty retreat, Dipper moved to block his path. "Move, kid! I left the refrigerator on! I mean the oven, I left the oven on. There's an appliance in there somewhere that's on and shouldn't be and I gotta find it!" His excuse failed to clear a path. "I ain't answering any questions without a lawyer."

"Dude, don't make me wake Mabel up and tell her you're hiding crap from us. She'll bite you. Do you realize how much those braces hurt?"

"Uh..." The threat was enough to make Stan squirm on his feet. "Okay, fine, yes. I did eventually. I'm not tellin' you the particulars of my work, though. Not even if you give your sister a chainsaw. That's on fire."

"Way to be reassuring."

He peered down at Dipper's sarcasm. "Hey! You ever think some of it might be classified? It's extremely illegal for me to talk!"

"But if the police don't see it, it's not illegal. Right?" Soos' face screwed up a bit at the awful glare he received from the old man. "Oh, oh, right. Hear it. 'Cause you can't see talking. Sorry."

"Stop turning my words against me. Do as I sa—no, do as I do, not as—wait, that's even worse. Just, just do what I want!" Stan finally said, throwing his arms up in defeat as he headed toward the shack.

Dipper waited until he was out of earshot before turning to Soos. "What else have you found around here?"

"Not much," he shrugged, though his face immediately went blank. "I'm pretty sure that room you and Mabel were fighting over belonged to Stanley, though. I saw his name on a box of stuff in a closet."

"Oh, there has got to be something in there. Let's go look." Dipper started off, pausing when his sight swept across their triangular bedroom window. "After I check on Mabel."

It was Winter who conjured a fully-furnished bedroom for Wendy, leaving her gobsmacked with how easy she made the process. "I think everything is in order," the blue-eyed woman remarked. "What about you?"

"Uh..." she mumbled, looking around in amazement. Not only was her new bed draped in red plaid sheets, but she also got a cherry dresser for her clothes – and once she'd told Winter her size, even more new garments to fill it, all created to order out of a random clump of junk she was holding. The white walls were replaced with oak paneling, and to top it off there was a three-blade ceiling fan spinning above. "Yep. I'm good. By the way: holy crap, you're insane, thank you so much for all this."

Winter allowed herself a tiny smile. "Mm. In hindsight I should have done this for the kids. Perhaps I'm too pragmatic for my own good." She glanced back at the twitchy girl and frowned. "Or perhaps it's the fact you might be here for a while."

"Maybe you're right." Wendy fell onto her bed and rolled to stare at the ceiling. "'Cause I sure don't know what to do next."

"Perhaps you should call your father?"

She made an awkward, unwilling noise and sat up. "I don't know, man. I keep wondering what else he's had those guys make me forget."

"Concentrate on one thing first before you go hunting for others. He must have had a reason," Winter replied, lightly crossing her arms. "From what I've seen of you two, I don't think he'd ever do you harm."

"Nah, but..." She rubbed her temples with a sigh. "I messed up, didn't I? By running away. He's gonna find me. It's just a matter of time."

Winter looked her right in the eyes and tried to smile. "It's okay to panic. I've panicked, Summer has panicked, everyone panics. Let him know where you are."

"But I don't wanna go home. I don't know what I'm capable of. I'm still... you know, sorta nervous."

"He won't make you go anywhere," she assured the redhead evenly. "Just let him know. Whether you want to see him now is up to you."

Reluctantly, she grabbed her backpack and set it in her lap, rubbing the nape of her neck with one hand while searching for her phone with the other. "Fine. No point in letting him freak out, I guess. He might hurt somebody." She finally pulled it out and stared at it. "He hasn't got a cellphone, but I know a friend of his who does."

As she started the call, Winter politely stepped out of the room to wait. Summer turned the corner and surprised her. "We're done. I think you'll like my decorating. She's going to let her father know where she is now."

Summer approved of this with a brief smile before her face got serious. "That's nice, but we have a visitor. Preston is here."

"What could he possibly want now?" the blue-eyed woman asked with a brow cocked.

Her sister shrugged and led the way back to the living room, where the grumpy-looking Northwest patriarch waited outside their open front door. "I did not appreciate the threat, by the way," he said gruffly to Summer.

"I sent it," Winter said, matching his ire with her own. "Why are you here?"

He straightened his tie with a haughty frown. "Simply following up to ensure you were satisfied with whatever it is you wanted. Is my wealth safe? I shudder to consider the ways you could ruin me with that ridiculous power of yours."

"Don't worry!" Summer said cheerfully. "Now that I have Colonel Greer's number, we don't really need you any longer."

"Wait, wh—no! I haven't even asked the government to make me United States Ambassador to... to whatever your planet is called yet! I need this leverage! I need to build relationships with your people. Hm, that seems a bit offensive. With you, I mean."

"Save your ambitions for someone who gives a damn," Winter said with a glare. "You wasted our time. I see no need to waste anymore. Are we done?"

The glassy-eyed look Preston had said it all; he had never been rejected this flatly in his life. "Wh-what about my daughter?"

Winter didn't even try to cloak her venom. "What about her?"

Swallowing his pride was like taking a bite out of a boulder for Preston, but he managed it and took on a more submissive air. "I don't want to use that gun on her again. It has... effects. All right, all right, I apologize for using your presence as a bargaining chip. Can you blame me? First contact with an alien race is a once in a—not even a lifetime, more like a once in a species' history opportunity. I tend to seize opportunities. Forget all that. Won't you take the Pentagon's offer and rid us of this awful curse? Then we'd have no need for the Society."

"What would be in it for us?" Summer asked, her brow raised. "We have no use for your money, or power, or, well, anything."

"Hold on," Winter interjected. "What side effects?"

He looked down his nose at the town nestled in the valley below them. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but the average intelligence of a resident of Gravity Falls is somewhere between 'block of limestone' and 'expired yogurt'. Ever since I started assisting the Society, I've kept a little tally of who's been shot the most. Guess on which end of the spectrum the most severely impaired lie?"

"Are you saying the memory gun causes brain damage?" Summer exclaimed with horror. Everyone froze when an unexpected gasp came from behind the twins; they eventually looked to see Wendy, who had arrived at exactly the wrong time. "Oh... oh no. Wendy-"

"No, no, don't m-mind me. I think—I'm just gonna go cry again," she said, pointing and walking away with an open-mouthed frown.

Winter made sure the girl was out of sight before voicing her anger. "And you continue to let them use it?"

Preston looked over both shoulders before whispering a retort. "What other choice do we have? If we stop, thousands of people will realize something is very wrong. How do you think the government will react? I'd bet you my Rolls-Royce they'd concoct something awful. Like a 'terrorist' attack or some such."

"They were already trying to find ways to use nuclear weapons here," Summer murmured thoughtfully. She blinked at Preston's surprise. "Oh? They haven't told you everything either, have they?"

"I would say not!" he replied, squirming with righteous indignation. "I had no idea they would go so far."

"Trust us, we are well-versed in the lengths powerful people will go to to bury their secrets." Winter rubbed her chin for a moment. "Very well. I think we have no choice but to round up all the local magical energy before it does damage – in one way or another. The quicker we can make the Society obsolete, the healthier everyone will be. By the way... do you have any idea who made that device? It's not magical."

"I'm afraid not, but I know who might. Let me arrange a meeting with Ivan. He's been in charge of the Society for quite some time. He likely knows more than I." Preston drew a smartphone from under his pinstriped blazer and poked at the screen. "It may not be possible tonight. Will tomorrow work?"

"That will be fine. I want a decent night's rest for everyone before we throw ourselves into the fray again," Winter said, leaving the conversation. "Excuse me. I want to go check on Wendy."

Summer stayed behind, smiling at Preston until he finally gave her attention. "Of course we'll help Pacifica. She seems okay. Just stop using us as leverage. It isn't very nice."

"You have a deal," he confirmed. "I've messaged Bud. We'll see what he says about a meeting."

"Good! I'm going to go help my sister with Wendy. I'm not sure how much more that poor girl can take."

Preston nodded, turning briefly to motion to his driver, still sitting in the car. The Rolls started up a few seconds later. "Why is she here, anyway?"

"Well," Summer sighed. "She's going through some, ah, portal-related issues. We're giving her a safe place to stay."

He put on a genuine smile and nodded. "How nice of you. I'm certainly glad you're not the kind of aliens Hollywood keeps making movies about."

She didn't get his insinuation. "What do you mean?" she asked, head tilted.

"Oh, I forgot you might not have seen movies. The gist of it is that aliens are always invading and killing all of humanity and such. Destroying cities. You know." He turned away and started off the porch. "At any rate, good day. I'll be in touch about our meeting."

"Okay. Goodbye!" Summer lost her chipper mask as she watched Preston's limo drive away. The recollection of Winter's anger that morning – and her own – caused great unease. "I'm not sure I can rule that out," she whispered while shutting the door, "since your government seems to know exactly how to make us mad."