Chapter 8: Heart-to-Heart

"Ready to cause some havoc, boys?"

His demonic friends howled in response. This was it. This was their time. They would take over the world and- He heard a noise. Suddenly, every atom of his body screamed in agony. He shifted his eye through his now dissolving body at the perpetrators. It was him. Him and Grunkle Ford, staring down at him from the bell tower. He felt a rush of hatred for himself. How dare he? He was nothing but a speck, a flea in the cosmic universe, knowing nothing, but interfering with events anyway, just so he could pitifully cling on to a sense of entitlement he had done nothing to deserve. Well, this is what that had gotten him. Now he was painfully deconstructing at an atomic level, and watching the disgusting affair too. He, with the last of his strength, shot his eye forward, to see the fear he inflicted upon himself. "At least I know two of my puppets won't be able to cut their strings," he cackled. Then he felt his pupil burning, but in his final moments, felt an unyielding glee at the sight of his own horrified face. He would forever be plagued by the fear of-

Dipper Pines woke up immediately. That's who he was. Dipper Pines. Where was he? Shouldn't he be at the bell tower with- No, recap. Had to remember. Grunkle Ford had shot Bill. Bill had died gruesomely which resulted in trauma, then therapy then him not seeing Grunkles for four years and- No, focus. Bill died. Then, he rescued Mabel from the bubble thing. After that, Time Baby showed up. He remembered that because he was always confused as to how the Time Baby decided when to show up. Something about the multiverse, probably. He turned back the clock before Weirdmageddon had happened. He, Mabel, Grunkle Ford and Grunkle Stan were the only ones who were allowed to remember, so they could stop the events from happening again. And they didn't happen again. He, Dipper Pines, was alive in an apocalypse-free reality, while Bill Cipher was very much dead. Facts. Those were all facts.

He stared down at his arm, aware of how real it was, but now distinctly aware of how fragile it was too. How utterly stupid it was. This was the arm that was attached to the brain that stubbornly overvalued its own existence. He was such a pitiful existence. He could so easily be wiped out. Anyone, hell, anything on the street could easily end his life at whim. He lived in a world of omnipotent babies and demons, and billions upon billions of other life forms. He existed for not even one-billionth of the universe's total duration, but he considered himself important? He seriously thought he mattered? Not even his own parents had planned for him. That's right. He was a twin. Mabel. He had been pivotal in Mabel's life, in his Grunkles' lives. Without him, they would all be doing something different right now, something probably worse, considering his adventures with all of them. He made a difference. He made people happier. Breath. Breath. Breath.

After a few minutes, Dipper managed to calm down. Nobody was making any noise upstairs, so at the very least, he hadn't screamed that time. That was good. He could feel that he was plastered in sweat. Not good. He stared up at the ceiling, determined not to close his eyes for a little while. He hated that dream. He hadn't had it in almost two years. Being in Gravity Falls again must have brought it back. He'd have to get sleeping pills from the pharmacy tomorrow if it were back. Had to keep it from Mabel and the Grunkles too. If one of them found out, then the parents would find out. If his parents found out, he would be swiftly dragged out of Gravity Falls and right back into therapy, to another doctor who thought he was completely delusional. Not happening. He had to beat it. He couldn't let Bill ruin his life anymore. He had to cut his strings.

He suddenly realized that he was extremely thirsty. And he was hot. All the sweat made him smell bad too. Right, he would get a drink from the fridge, then he would take a shower. After that, probably video games. He knew there was no point in even trying to get back to sleep. It wouldn't work. He checked his phone. Three in the morning. A text from Leo that he had forgotten to read too. Well, it would be weird to respond at this time of the day, so he would wait until the late morning.

He got out of his blankets and placed his feet on the floor. Everything always felt different after the dream. Perhaps it was the time of the day, or the rebound from intense distress, but everything he did felt like he was doing it for the first time, like he had been rubbed raw. It was interesting. Not worth having that horrible dream, but interesting nonetheless. He walked through the halls and turned the corner into the kitchen. He was surprised to see that the light was on, and under it was Pacifica, sketching in a notebook. Well, he wouldn't be getting a drink then. He did not need anyone seeing him like this. Unfortunately, the Shack suffered the condition of being extremely old, so as soon as he made a move, the floorboards creaked.

Pacifica snapped her had to his direction. "Who's there?" she demanded.

"Nobody, just Dipper," he called back, voice cracking.

She relaxed. "Are you alright? You sound terrible," she asked. Dipper was surprised to hear that much concern in her voice.

"Uhh, yeah, throat's just really dry," he replied, immediately cursing himself for the response.

"Water's right there," she said, gesturing to the sink in front of her. He had trapped himself in social etiquette.

"Uhh, yeah," he replied, making his way to the sink, specifically not looking at Pacifica.

As he stepped into the light, he heard Pacifica ask, "Are you sure you're alright? You look even paler than usual. That's bad."

"Yeah, just, uh… had a bad dream, is all," Dipper told her, hoping against hope that she would leave it at that.

"One hell of a dream if it can make you look like that," Pacifica noted.

Dipper chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah."

"What happened in it? Got a B- on a test?"

Dipper laughed again. Where were the glasses? He could not remember where the glasses were. "Something like that. Hey, could you not tell Mabel or like, anyone else I had a nightmare?"

"What, getting nightmares is too embarrassing for manly man Dipper Pines?" she teased.

"No, I just really don't want to have to go back to therapy," he said thickly, stress finally getting to him. He opened his fifth cabinet to find the glasses.

He heard a tiny "Oh" as he poured water into the glass. He turned to stare at the fridge. Huh, Grunkle Stan had gotten a daily calendar for it. He decided that calendar was the only thing that interested him at the moment. "I'm sorry," he heard her mutter softly.

He shrugged his shoulders, still staring at the calendar. "Don't worry about it." Really. The sooner he was out of this conversation, the better.

"No, making fun of you about it was a totally wrong on my part. It's just… sometimes I forget you're human."

Visions of him not being a human returned after an unfortunately short break. "What's that mean?" he asked, struggling to keep composure.

"It's like, I feel like you're somehow immune to everything that gets thrown your way. Like, if I'm mean to you, or something bad happens, you won't feel bad or get scared, because you're Dipper Pines."

Dipper snorted. "What am I, a superhero?"

"Kind of."

Wait, what?

"I mean, like at the mansion, or the minigolf course. I was always so scared, but you never once lost your cool. And no matter how hard I tried to put you down, you never let me get to you, you always had something to say back."

"Are you kidding me?" Dipper asked, completely unable to believe that this was a thing Pacifica thought about him. "The lumberjack ghost? I was scared as shit! You were the one bossing me around like it was any other day. I had to at least pretend like I was calm, so that I didn't look pathetic! And I don't know, you sort of get used to the bullies after a while. It's not like I ever had a choice in the matter, just learned to roll with the punches." He stared at the refrigerator, immediately regretting letting his mouth run. He didn't like bringing up how pitiful he had been in his early life.

"Were you really bullied that much?"

"What are you- You bullied us! You should know!" Dipper laughed. Not really an appropriate response, but this conversation was weird, even by his standards. He had absolutely zero idea how to react to anything Pacifica was saying. Nothing in his admittedly minimal social experience had trained him for this.

"I bullied everyone. You don't strike me as a kid who would get majorly bullied. Friendless, sure, but actively picked on?"

"Are you serious?" Dipper could not believe that Pacifica thought it was weird he was bullied. "I mean, I've literally got a perfect target on my forehead!"

"Is that, like, nerd-speak for something? Your forehead looks fine," she remarked, confused.

Dipper paused. He realized that Pacifica had never seen his birthmark. Right. He hadn't wanted to tell her last trip, because, well, they weren't super close, and he had just never had a reason to. Years of self-preservation instincts caused him to hesitate. Did he really want to show it? Fuck it, he decided. It's not like this conversation could get any more insane.

"Behold, the mysteries of Dipper Pines, revealed to you," he announced. Propelled by wild adrenaline and things he couldn't even begin to make sense of, he pulled his bang up and revealed his birthmark, facing Pacifica for the first time. Pacifica's mouth formed an "O" shape.

"That's why your name is Dipper! I always thought your parents were just terrible at naming children!"

Dipper laughed at that. "Mabel's going to be hurt you said that."

"Oh, she knows I think her name is 100 years too old for her. But wow, this, this is like, I don't even know..."

"It's like meeting your favorite superhero's secret identity?" Dipper offered.

"Alright, I feel like we're getting a little too crazy with the superhero thing. I said you were kind of like a superhero."

"Nope. I'm Pacifica Northwest's personal hero/idol. Can't convince me otherwise."

"Don't ruin the moment we're having here."

"I have to. Ruining emotional moments is my superpower."

"And we're right back to square one. You're dumb and I'm mean."

"That's not true. I have blackmail that you thought I was super-cool when we were 12. That's different."

Pacifica laughed. "Right, because things I thought four years ago are so damning now. Do I look like I'm running for office?"

Dipper waved his hand. "It's a moral victory. I know it's going to bother you."

"A little bit. But, to go back to seriousness again, I'm really glad we had this talk. I feel, I don't know, like I'm not lame for being scared whenever this stuff happens. If you and Mabel are scared, then I can be too, so it's a little comforting."

"Hell, you've never woken up in a cold sweat over what's happened to you, so you're probably tougher than I am."

"Well, I never said that."

Dipper, for the first time, looked over at her. "Seriously? You've had nightmares? Is that why you're up tonight?"

"Well, no. Tonight Mabel rolled off her bed and fell on top of me in her sleep."

There was a brief pause. Then Dipper started giggling, with Pacifica quickly following suit. "This conversation," he gasped. "Has gone in like, 5000 different emotional directions."

She nodded. "All thanks to a 16 year-old not being able to sleep on her bed."

"Oh, she has always been like that. If she's excited before she goes to bed she never sleeps right." He broke down laughing. "This one time… the morning before our tenth birthday… so, Mabel chose a bed that's straight down the hallway from the stairs, so that she can just go straight out of bed and charge down the stairs for holidays and stuff. So, tenth birthday, our mom comes to wake us up for school, and she finds Mabel out cold at the bottom of the stairs."

"No way."

"Obviously she's freaking out, because she thinks Mabel concussed herself going down the stairs. So she calls an ambulance, wakes me up, and as we're coming down stairs to get water or do something, Mabel wakes up and asks if pancakes are ready."

"Oh my god!" Pacifica laughed.

"So, there we are, eating pancakes, while outside my mom has to explain to the ambulance that her daughter didn't knock herself out, but in fact, just rolled out of bed and down a flight of stairs without waking up. And that," he finished through his own laughter. "Is the story of the funniest morning of my life."

"She is completely ridiculous," Pacifica giggled.

Dipper nodded, pleased that the trusty "story is 10x funnier after serious conversation" convention held true yet again. Mabel had once told him it was literally the only time he could intentionally tell a decent joke. He looked over at her, curious to see what a laughing Pacifica looked like. His heart skipped a beat. Her hair, frayed from sleep, looked like it was glowing in the light. Her traditionally defiant expression had disappeared, and he discovered that she hid her mouth behind her hand when she laughed. She actually looked really cu- Nope. Tonight was already an emotional trainwreck, and he sure as shit was not going to let hormones get a say in it too. He looked down at her notebook. It looked like sketches of dresses. "What's with the dresses?" he asked.

She looked down, realizing her notebook had been open. "Oh, it's a hobby. You know me, fashion connoisseur. When I'm bored, I like to design dresses."

"So you do have hobbies aside from 'being filthy rich', never would have thought about it," he said, relaxing slightly now that they had been able to get back to their familiar pattern.

"Glad to see this is the amount of understanding you have of your friends."

"I don't really think about it. Honestly, all I think about when I think of you is creative ways to call your hair fake."

Pacifica twirled her pencil in her hands. "Did you know, Dipper," she mused, voice disarmingly innocent. "That the average person has the strength to pierce someone else's jugular with a moderately sharp pencil?"

"That fact sounds pretty fake. Almost as fake as-"

Snap. Pacifica slammed the tip of the pencil down onto the table, breaking off a large portion of the pencil. "Fake as what, exactly?" she asked, smiling in a way that was far more scary than cute.

Dipper gulped. "As, uhh, CG effects?"

"Good boy." Pacifica withdrew her pencil from the table. She wouldn't be able to do anymore sketching while she was here, but sometimes lines had to be very clearly established. Silence arose between them.

Dipper cleared his throat. "This has been… fun, I guess, but I think I'll take that as a proper cue for the conversation to end." Not exactly the smoothest exit, but he was fairly willing to leave what had been the conversational equivalent of getting kicked in the ribs then immediately running a triathlon afterward. He gave a nod and awkwardly left the room.

Pacifica rolled her eyes. Dipper Pines, charming as ever. She should give him some slack though. It's not like she was particularly suave right now. Now that it was over, and she didn't have to focus on talking, she let the full horror of what she actually said wash over her. That had to have been the most embarrassing conversation she had ever had. "Kind of like a superhero". She put her head in her hands. Holy fuck, did she really say that to him? Sure, she admired him when she was 12, but that didn't mean she had to say it! That was not something that was public info, he had just… She had just felt like such a bitch for making fun of him when he was dealing with trauma. It was like seeing a geeky little puppy and then deciding to kick it. She had felt so bad she just blurted out the first compliment she could think of, which was that. Then her mouth kept running. How the fuck had she lost control like that? She had been trained since birth in the arts of conversation and dealing with people, and then she pushes one friend too far and suddenly she's blurting out life secrets? Why?

She thought about it, the way he had looked when he walked it to the room. He had been scared. He was just like her. Her head felt weird thinking about that. He was every bit as real as she was. He too had things that kept him up at night. He had things that he bragged about, things that made him smile, just as much as she did. She stared down at her notebook, not really noticing the sketches on the page. Was… was she relating to somebody? That's why she so desperately wanted to cheer him up, because she had empathy for him? It wasn't really something she had felt before. She rubbed her eyes. She really was tired, if she was thinking like this. Hold on. She pulled her hands away from her face, examining them in the soft glow of the kitchen light. Had her skin always been this soft?

Dipper collapsed back onto his bed. What the hell had just happened? What was- why did he- was she- So many questions swarmed around his head. All of this 'talking to other people' was not doing good for his heart. Today had been a goddamn rollercoaster. He had been chased by goblins, given the best gift ever, hung out with Multi-Bear, then the nightmare, and finally, he had an emotional talk with Pacifica Northwest? To whom he was apparently some sort of hero? Sure, he saved her from a ghost and always stood up to her but still, he wasn't a hero, he was just Dipper. He frankly had not even properly registered it yet. He was pretty sure he was in shock. Welp, he decided, whatever was going on emotionally, he figured he'd let it sort itself out. He certainly wasn't capable of dealing with it. "XCube, turn on."

"OH MY GOD I LOVE IT!"

Dipper watched his sister dance around with a red cloth with two gold W's in the middle, one on top of the other.

"What is it, exactly?" Dipper asked.

Mabel turned to him. "Can't you tell? It's a cape for Waddles! Ohh, this is perfect!"

Dipper turned to Grunkle Stan. "Did you seriously make a pig cape?"

Dipper, Mabel, Pacifica, Stan, and Ford were sitting at the kitchen table. It was after breakfast, and, as promised, Grunkle Stan had given Mabel her present, which appeared to be a cape for Waddles.

"Oooh, this is incredible! Wonder Waddles is born!" Mabel exclaimed, tying the cape around what could be considered Waddles' neck area. "Gotta take pictures!"

Stan turned back to the table while Mabel took selfies with her superpig. "Never thought I would have to measure a pig to tailor a cape in the dead of night, but I suppose I've had a lot of 'never thought's in the past 30 years."

"So you did make it?" Dipper continued, awe for his great-uncle growing. "Didn't know you had the sewing skills."

"You think there's a tailor in this hick town? A guy's gotta learn it all if he wants to dress to impress."

"Says the man who also wears an eyepatch over his glasses," Ford noted.

"For the millionth time, Sixer, it's ironic humor!" Stan grumbled.

"I'll never understand it," Ford sighed.

"You don't have to! Leave it to the expert."

Dipper chuckled, before immediately being reminded of his problems. Speaking of not understanding… He glanced over to Pacifica to make sure that they still weren't bothering to make eye contact. The emotional turbulence of last night had not settled as he hoped it might. He was still entirely unsure of how to behave around her, and she clearly expressed the same opinion. He took a bite of pancakes, and stared at Grunkle Ford's present to Mabel, a multi-colored pen that had 100 years worth of ink in it, as well as three different points for drawing. It was the ultimate inking/writing tool. For the era Grunkle Ford lived in. Knowing Mabel though, she would still use it in place of her drawing tablet.

"Pacifica!" Mabel said. "I need you to give money to Dipper so he can make me and Waddles crime-fighting gadgets!"

Pacifica laughed lightly. "As much as I'd love to, I think it's time for me to head home."

"What? Already?" Mabel complained.

"Yeah, my parents have been getting antsy about how much time I'm spending outside of their supervision. You know how they are, if we're going to hang out this summer, I should probably be all smiles and good will. Thank you very much for breakfast though. It was delicious."

"A tip would be appreciated," Stan said. Ford elbowed him. "Or it's my pleasure because you're a guest or something."

"I guess we can't cross your parents, huh?" Mabel pouted. "Dipper, you know the deal."

Dipper coughed into his hand. Right. The deal. He had to actually walk alone with Pacifica for 10 minutes. Awkward Central. "I've got to do the dishes, remember?" Dipper excused himself.

"Baaahh."

"I'm sure I can get them done while Pacifica gets her things together," Dipper hastily amended.

Pacifica shot him a quick what-the-hell-are-you-doing glare. Dipper pursed his lips. There was one thing he knew, and that was that walking in silence with Pacifica was so much more preferred to the Lamby-Lamby Dance being brought up ever again. They would have to suffer through this one.

And suffering, Dipper reflected, was exactly what he was doing. The minute they had been on the hill felt like an hour. He was always down for some quiet, but this was suffocating. Every time he opened his mouth to say something, he couldn't even begin to think of what to talk about. This was reasonable, he supposed, after their talk last night. Their previous relationship had actively discouraged that sort of emotional talk. They had simply turned their aggressive insults into friendly ones and let it be. Now, it was a whole new beast.

If there was one thing Dipper hated about being a teenager, it was the sheer uncertainty of it all. He was a man of science, and teenagers had far too many emotional variables for him to be comfortable with it. Here he was, walking alongside a friend, who, half a day ago, he was talking to just fine. After a five minute conversation, however, they were now decidedly not talking, and it wasn't out of something reasonable, like anger or lack of conversation, but out of uncertainty on how to treat each other. How would she react if he said this or that? He no longer had any idea. This bothered him greatly. "Having no idea" was not a feeling he ever enjoyed, so it was time for drastic measures, and a first in his interactions with Pacifica.

"So, I'm going to be the one to break the ice here," he started. Pacifica turned to him in what he assumed to be surprise, as he was staring directly ahead. "I know that things are weird, right now, because, y'know, we're sort of built on not really, y'know, being 'emotional' and junk, and so things are super weird, but, I think it would be cool if it wasn't weird, because, y'know… we talk and stuff."

"Are you always this articulate?" Pacifica commented.

"See, like that," Dipper continued. "Like, we both said things that were… probably not meant for other people to hear, so I think that if we just sort of, y'know, mutually ignore that stuff and just go back to normal, as mentioned, then I think talking would be easier."

"So, your big breakthrough on this," Pacifica summed up. "Is that, rather than feel awkward, we just don't."

"I feel like it was smarter in my head, but yeah, basically."

Pacifica sighed. "I feel like a lot of things are smarter in your head, but, hey, it works for me. Back to business as usual it is."

Dipper clapped his hands together, excited to have things back together. "Cool. You know what this means, right?"

"That I get to hear your whiny voice far more often than I want to?"

"First of all, rude. Secondly, no, it means we're bros."

Pacifica stopped dead in her tracks and looked at him. "I'm sorry, what?"

"We're bros. You and me. Bros," he repeated, moving his arms back and forth between them to properly illustrate what insane bros they were.

Pacifica stared at him like he had grown a second head. "What are you even talking about?"

"We both decided to delicately shy away from emotional proximity in favor of a more comfortable, friendly relation. That is what bros do. We are the technical, scientific definition of bros."

"Except you are the last person I would consider a 'bro'."

Dipper rolled his eyes. "Yeah, on a purely superficial level, that might be the case, but you woefully fail to see the underlying emotional makings of a bro."

Pacifica started walking again at a faster pace. "Nope, I'm done. Not having this conversation."

"Excuse you," Dipper said, catching up with her. "How can you just ignore the psychological patterns that entrap a majority of males with such cold indifference?"

"Oh, are we pretending like you didn't get on this rant with the sole intention of driving me up the wall?"

"What?' Dipper cried, grinning like an idiot. "I would never do something just to bother you."

Pacifica sucked in a breath. "One call," she muttered. "That's all it would take, and he'd never be heard from again."

Dipper laughed. "Oh c'mon," he said. "We both know you wouldn't do that to your bro."

Pacifica's only regret of the walk was that her hand stung a little afterwards.

Dipper watched his friend turn the corner out of sight, and he turned back to the Shack, with a light sting in his ribs. Pacifica had a pretty quick jab when annoyed, but he suspected it hurt her more than him. He smiled to himself. It was nice having her back. He liked it when things made sense. Now that they were back to normal, he was back to normal. No more weird thoughts and feelings. He supposed though, that there had been one good thing coming from all of this. In all the emotional turbulence, he had largely forgotten about the dream.

...Fuck.

To: Dipdop

6/10/16 9:32 PM

Mabel: You and Pacifica were super awk this morning. The banter was nonexistent. What's up with that?

Dipdop: Please don't use 'awk'. Even I know it's out of style.

M: Why not? It's amazing, like a bird call. AWK!

D: That's why I dislike it, and I can't hear your impression over a text.

M: I trust you did a suitable impression in your head. Don't dodge the issue. What's up with you and Pacifica?

D: Nothing's up, we're just not morning people.

M: Oh no. Something definitely happened in between the time I fell on top of her and the time I woke up.

D: Fine, we had an awkward interaction in the kitchen

M: Everyone's first time is awkward, don't worry about it ;D

D: Don't be gross. We just had a weird conversation, but we patched it up on the walk down the hill, so don't press further

M: Fine, but it looks like our bet is already working out for you huh? :3

D: I refuse to admit that

AN: An alternate title was "Dip & Paz Bro It Up".

So, eight chapters and over 30k words, we finally hit our first major landmark in the relationship between Dipper and Pacifica. And it's that they decide to maintain status quo. This, ladies and gentlemen, is what I like to call "being an unrivaled master of pacing". In all seriousness, the shells have started to crack, and we can look forward to our two emotionally-challenged teens getting closer and closer from here. Next time, we celebrate the first event of the Gravity Falls summer, so stay tooned! And, as always, thank you very much for reading!