Read if you dare. Important plot stuff ahead!
Chapter Eight: Forest Fire
Gravity Falls, Oregon, 1997
Echo didn't know why Stan was allowing her to live in his house. (Well, technically it was Ford's house, but still.) Maybe it was because she was his only connection to his brother, or maybe it was because she honestly didn't have anywhere else to go. Either way, she wasn't complaining. Gravity Falls was a fairly friendly town - aside from that damn Northwest family - and Stan was a surprisingly nice guy when you chipped at the gruff exterior.
But, he apparently wasn't very creative. Seriously, nearly every attraction in his little tourist trap was some taxidermy part glued to another taxidermy part. And, people liked it. The IQs of the inhabitants of this dimension were abundantly clear.
If Stan was going to stay in business, and keep Ford's house and the still-in-pieces portal underneath, he was going to need something real. So, she decidedly to go out into the forest and find something. Preferably something small that probably wouldn't try to eat her.
The wind was stronger than usual, whipping at her high ponytail and spraying leaves into her face. Echo didn't bring anything with her, didn't need to. She just had to find something, knock it out, and drag it back to the shack. And, if she ran into trouble, she could always scream and make her attacker forget that it was attacking her.
Except that it didn't work on that attacker. Shit, shit, shit.
A cruel, triumphant grin spread over her opponent's face. Dark brown hair blew to the side, and navy-colored eyes sparked with hatred, as the woman stood with crossed arms. "Been a while," she said simply.
Echo casually put her hands in the pockets of her jean shorts, even though rage and anxiety were currently flowing in place of her blood. "Hello, Mallory. What brings you here?"
Mallory shrugged and gazed boredly up at a nearby woodpecker. "Just passing through. Didn't expect to see you alive. I may have used a decoy-snark to fool your little friends into thinking you'd died," Echo's pulse paused, "but I guess I could always take you out for real."
"You mean make your pokemon do your dirty work." Mallory finally looked at her. Echo clicked her tongue. "Well, it's true. You turn innocent pokemon into monsters." If looks could kill, Echo would have been a lifeless heap on the grass. "What are you really doing here, Mallory? I know you're not just here for a little R and R."
Mallory dared a step forward. "Sometimes I like to see how my home-dimension's doing. That a problem?"
Actually, Echo hadn't even known this was her home dimension. But, that didn't mean she believed Mallory. "Did Guardian send you out here, or something? Did he decide that he doesn't want anyone more insane than him under his command?"
Mallory snarled. "How dare you. Guardian is a fucking saint. Don't you get it? He's going to save us! So, stop resisting, Juliette."
Echo bristled. "That's not my name anymore."
Mallory just rolled her eyes. "Of course. Because Echo sounds so much better."
"And, if anyone doesn't get it, it's you, Mal. You and the rest of Guardian's little clique. If that guy's a saint, then it must be snowing in Hell."
Mallory was shaking in fury. "Why don't you go there and find out?"
Stan didn't know why, but those damn mosquitoes had been all over him today. But, they weren't regular mosquitos. Because, really, what was ever normal in Gravity Falls? Every time someone in the town was attacked by those little pests, the dozens of bites were arranged to write some kind of message. The townsfolk called the little bugs "soothsquitoes." Local legend stated that the messages were warnings, but Stan couldn't tell if they were in another language or just spelled wrong. His latest "message" was no different.
What the hell did "TRECHO'S IN OUBLE" even mean?
Stan leaned back on the couch on the patio and sipped his Pitt Cola, careful not to swallow the pit inside (again). He was so used to this town's weirdness that he didn't even give two damns about whatever it was the soothsquitoes were trying to tell him.
He glanced down at his watch and frowned deeper. Echo had been gone a good while. She could take care of herself just fine, but the woods were a dangerous place. And anyway, it wasn't like having a "real" attraction was necessary, but Echo seemed eager to go exploring, so he let her. But, maybe he shouldn't have. He'd never admit aloud, but he'd grown to care for her. Perhaps, he would give her a few more minutes and then go after her. But, what if she came back, only to find that he'd left to go find her?
Just then, he smelled smoke coming from the forest, like someone was having a cook-out. But, starting a fire, for cooking or otherwise, in such a dense forest? Even the inhabitants of Gravity Falls weren't that stupid. He cautiously followed the smell and nearly dropped his soda can at what he found. Golden, oddly sparkly flames lapped up the trees from deeper into the woods and were spreading fast. Stan's first instinct was not to find a way to shield the shack from them.
No, his first instinct was to look down at his soothsquito bites.
TRECHO'S IN OUBLE
Echo's in trouble.
Stan dropped his soda can and sprinted into the fire.
The heat, the smell, the beauty of the glittering flares as they whirled through the forest. Echo had forgotten just how good it all felt. She and Mallory flung flare after flare at each other, though they had yet to hit the one another. Echo sent a wave of gold after her target. Mallory's body dodged, but the flame grazed her hair. Slowly, as though wanting to savor it, the flame creeped up Mallory's dark curls, and she screamed in pain and horror. The stench of burnt hair was trumped by the smell of fresh charcoal. Fire blazed a wall between them, until Mallory was hidden from view.
Echo couldn't help the wild laugh that escaped her throat. The fire, the ashes, the scent, feel, sound, look, taste of it all… Why had she ever stopped using that power? It felt so good, so right. More. She needed more of it.
"Echo!"
She thought she heard someone calling her name, but she laughing to hard to really notice or care. She heat - glorious heat - spread through her body as she unleashed another wave. More. More, more, more!
"Echo!"
She twirled around in a giddy high.
"Echo!"
That time, she saw the figure bolting toward her, barely avoiding her beautiful flames. But, just before she'd spotted him, she'd unleashed another wave. A wave that slammed into him. The man collapsed, and his agonized scream jolted Echo back to reality as flames engulfed him.
A name. There was a name for him, right?
Stan.
Stanley.
Stanley Pines.
Oh God, no!
Stanley woke up lying in his bed. The smell of smoke filled his nostrils, but as far as he could tell the house wasn't on fire, so he ignored it. How did he get here?
Then, he remembered. The fire, the pain, Echo… Echo! Where was she?
A sound entered his eardrums. Was that a sob? Grunting from the effort - holy Moses, was he ever sore - Stan turned his head, and he was torn between relief and fear at what he found.
Echo was sitting in a chair by his bedside. She was safe. Covered in soot and smelling of charcoal, but safe. But, what alarmed him was that she had her head down, crying into her hands. Stan tried to say her name, but he ended up in a coughing fit instead. Echo looked at him anyway and inhaled sharply. Her normally snow-white was so filthy that you couldn't tell the difference between her white hair and its gray streaks (which Stan still didn't believe were natural, but what did he know about hair?). Her tears had broken through the ash on her cheeks, revealing the fair skin underneath. Against all odds, her eyes actually seemed even darker than usual.
Stan's heart broke. The strongest woman he knew looked completely broken.
Though his body was against it, Stan forced it to sit upright and turn to face her. "What-" Another bout of coughing wracked his body. "What the fuck happened?"
Instead of answering him, Echo wailed into her hands even harder than before, making Stan silently panic. Whatever happened in those woods, it must have been god-awful to break her down like this. Stan reached over and pulled her close, wrapping his arms tightly, protectively around her. Whatever she was trying to say to him was drowned out by her own sobs, but he could pick out things like, "I'm sorry" and "my fault" and "you're alive." But, he knew better than to force her to tell him what was going on; she was obviously in no condition to speak coherently. So, he just held her and let cry, even though his own heart was aching at the sight of her in such a state.
YVDZIY TZIWVM ZMW GSV HRNNVI UZNVO.
I can't believe I forgot to mention this, but do you remember when I told you about PFDroids5198's fic (the one that has my OCs)? The name of it was changed to "After the Fall." Once you review my fic, go check that one out!
