Chapter 28

Disclaimer: Alex Hirsch owns Gravity Falls, not me.

Dipper's eyes were half-lidded, groggily brought back into awareness, body sore from his seizing. His throat ached with a thirst that needed to be desperately quenched. He noticed Grunkle Stan was in an oak wooden chair, legs propped up against a shelf in front of him, foot tapping to the beat of Johnny Cash's "Get Rhythm". His lips mouthed the words, face barely heard as he sang along, flipping through a beaten book labelled "Relativity: The Special and the General Theory" by Albert Einstein. "Come on, get rhythm, when you get the blues! A jumpy rhythm makes you feel so fine, it'll shake all the trouble from your worried mind!"

His eyes wearily drooped shut, as someone entered the room, beginning to speak. "Johnny Cash; good taste I have to say."

"Yeah, belonged to a relative of mine. How's Gideon?" Stan asked, turning down the volume of the music.

"He was still unconscious, but physically nothing is wrong with him. Mabel wanted to stay until he woke though." Dipper recognized this voice to be Dr. Richard Thompson's.

"Ok...when do you, uh...suppose I should get rid of...you know?" His great-uncle asked, sounding hesitant.

A sigh. "When the children aren't around...Do you still feel like drin-?"

"No, no, not any more. It was just a moment of weakness, I don't need any now."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I had another smoke and started doing some reading, so it went away when I wasn't focusing on it."

"That's good...I should check over Dipper now and try to wake him," He replied and a moment later, the brunet felt a hand checking the pulse on his throat, well-aware that the doctor would be able to tell if he was awake. It appeared his hunch was correct, as he began to speak directly to him. "How are you feeling?"

Dipper fluttered open his eyes. "...t-tired..."

"Having a seizure does that. Are you thirsty?" Dipper hummed in reply, shutting his eyes. "Stan, can you get a glass of water for him?"

"Yeah, hold on..." His great-uncle replied and he heard him exit the bedroom.

"I know you just woke up, but I need to know if this has happened before?"

"...few times..."

"Do you know how many?"

"...s-seventeen..."

"Ok, do you have any signs it's about to happen? Any weird smells or sights or tastes for example."

"...can't b-breath and taste b-blood..."

"Ok and do you know why they happen?"

"...they told m-me it was b-because of my a-anxiety."

"Who?"

"...the d-doctors."

"You've been to the hospital for this then?"

"...p-psych w-ward."

"So, you've been institutionalized?"

"A-A year."

"For your anxiety?"

"Uh-huh...t-tired..."

"Ok, that's all the answers I needed. Here, I'll help you sit up."

He felt arms begin to wrap around his shoulders, but he shrugged them off. "I-I can do it."

His eyes opened and he struggled to sit up, limps trembling and sweat appearing on his brow, as he pushed himself upwards. Stan lingered in the background, hand extended with a glass of water, and he realized he hadn't even heard him return. Dr. Thompson removed it from his hands, observing the brunet. The man reached out, glass brushing Dipper's lips, and he sipped greedily. His hands lashed out, taking the glass, chugging it. The glass was pulled away from him and he frowned. "Slow down, Dipper. You'll make yourself sick."

The 13-year-old nodded, slouching down, head lying on the arm rest with a sigh. His ears buzzed, as though he was in a crowded area, such as a baseball stadium. He couldn't focus on the voices, but they were beginning to cause his head to pulse. Stan's voice shredded through the background noise. "You feeling alright, kid? You look sorta green."

Dipper eyed the doctor, before replying. "J-Just tired."

Grunkle Stan nodded, facing to Dr. Thompson as he spoke. "I think we got it from here, Dick."

The other man observed the pair, before nodding in agreement. "Yes, I can see that. I'll be seeing you later then."

The doctor began to exit the room, hand on the door, as he glanced over his shoulder. "If you need anything, be sure to call, Stanley."

Dipper's great-uncle never replied as the doctor left, instead opting to sit on the couch, beside the 13-year-old. He was surprised as his hand began to card through his thick hair, comforting him. "You scared me, kid."

"I-I'm sorry..." He whispered, eyed filling with tears.

"Hey, stop that. As long as there isn't any more big surprises, I won't be mad with you." His hand massaged his scalp, causing him to release a sigh of relaxation.

He knew he couldn't keep secrets from him any longer. "...s-sometimes I'm not D-Dipper."

"What's that mean?" He questioned, frowning down at his grand-nephew.

"Sometimes I-I'm someone e-else."

"Ok, kid, I don't understand what that means exactly, but I'm just gonna count it as babble, considering what just happened to you."

Dipper's hand reached upwards, taking hold of Stan's hand, pulling it away from his head. "Sometimes, I-I'm J-Jason."

His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "Look, I know you don't like it, but that's your real name."

"I-It was, but now it's h-his name instead. I-I'm Dipper."

The hand pulled away from his own, resting into the elder man's lap. "Go to sleep."

"G-Grunk-" He was hushed though, blanket being spread across him, engulfing him with warmth.

"Now." He couldn't help the drooping of his eyes, commanded to lull him to sleep, causing the buzz to fade completely, darkness overtaking him. Stan, meanwhile, was honestly concerned about his great-nephew's words, not quite sure what to believe on the matter. Frankly, his great-nephew sounded delusional about such a claim. He knew he needed to speak to Mabel about this matter and knew it couldn't wait, even if Gideon was still unconscious.

He made his way upstairs, halting before the door, hearing whispering. Stan frowned, before swinging open the door. He swore he saw Mabel sitting on the bed, before the now awake Gideon, but in a flash, she was beside the bed. "...what are you two doing?"

Mabel's hands were gripped behind her back and she titled her head in confusion. "What?"

He observed Gideon, discovering the child's freckled face to be a shade of red, hair unkempt, eyes wide. He couldn't imagine either of them doing anything inappropriate to one another, but Mabel was a teenager now, and he knew how they could be. He hadn't ever thought Mabel would be the type of person to engage in such activities at her age. "If you two are doing what I think you are, just stop."

"Stop what?" His grand-niece asked and he frowned at how truly confused she sounded.

"Never mind. I just need to talk to you, sweetie."

"Uh, ok?" Mabel replied, appearing as puzzled about his words, as she headed down the staircase outside.

"...are you ok, kid?" Stan asked, taking in the flustered 10-year-old's face, once Mabel had left the attic.

"...I-I'm f-fine." He whispered, lying back down, and burying his head underneath the blankets.

"If you say so..." Stan entered the landing of the attic, shutting the door behind him, observing his innocent grand-niece. "...You're getting at that age, aren't you?"

"What?"

"Listen, I think we need to talk about a little something involving the birds and the bees. I have this book that I could show yo-"

"NO! NOT AGAIN!" Mabel cried in horror, sprinting down the stairs and leaving a stunned Stan behind.

"What the-? Wait, just a second, Mabel!" Stan sprinted after her, grasping the back of her collar as she headed down the stairs in a frantic attempt to escape from him. "Ok, you obviously know what I'm already talking about, though I don't know who told you, but I actually have a question about your brother."

Mabel glanced up at him, automatically appearing concerned at the mention of her twin. "What? Is he ok? Did he have another panic attack?"

"Well, yeah, but that wasn-"

"Oh my god, where is he?!" She cried, twisting from his grip.

"Mabel, he's fine. That isn't what's important right now. I need to know if he's ever told you about...not being himself?"

The brunette's eyes flickered in recognition. "...what did he say?"

"Uh, something like, 'sometimes I'm Jason' or som-" Stan began, only to be cut off my Mabel.

"He told you?" She whispered in awe.

"Wait, what?"

"Oh...Grunkle Stan...sometimes, Dipper isn't Dipper...h-he's Jason."

"Ok, I know, but what does that mean, kid?"

"...he...they're different people...no different' personalities'."

"...are you telling me your brother has many people disorder or whatever that's called?"

Mabel frowned. "You mean multiple personality disorder?"

"...uh, yeah, that. Just tell me if he has it or not."

"No, it's not like that. Um, Dipper and Jason used to be one 'personality', but the pieces of their 'personality split' when he, um...hit his head."

"Hit his head?"

"Um, he tripped one day," Mabel replied suspiciously too quick for Stan's liking. "Jason told me that they were were opposites of each other. Dipper is 'light' and Jason is 'dark'. It sounded sorta like Star Wars, so, um, it took a few times for me to understand that. Jason says everyone has a 'dark' and 'light side', but they're always one 'personality'. They aren't supposed to be two different people."

"...seriously, what else are you two keeping hidden from me?" Stan probed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Grunkle Stan, only I-I knew about that one. No one else. N-Not even the hospital people." She explained, appearing anxious, biting her bottom lip.

"...you want me to keep this secret, huh?" He knew exactly why, considering how deranged this notion seemed even to him.

"P-Please, if mom and dad hear about this, they might think there's something really wrong with him, but Jason is only trying to keep Dipper safe, even if it doesn't look like it." She rambled on, clenching her fists.

"Woah, woah, slow down! I haven't even met this Jason. At least not yet, so I don't know jack squat about him." He gestured his hands in a placating gesture to calm her.

"Y-You won't, unless he actually wants you to." She explained, wringing her wrists.

"And, how do you make him want you to?"

"You have to...be like him...or do something he finds interesting."

"Like what? Playing chess? He already sounds like Dipper."

"No, just...Grunkle Stan, no. I don't want you to meet him." She replied, fervently shaking her head, hair swinging around her.

"And why not?"

"C-Cause, you won't like him."

"How do you know that?"

"P-Please, don't force him. If you do, he might get upset. I don't want him to...have a meltdown." She muttered the end of her sentence, though Stan could hear her.

He realized that this may be true, considering the panic attacks Dipper had, Jason could suffer from a type of meltdown. He decided he wouldn't push him for the moment, especially since he had to take care of the business he had nearly forgotten about. "Ok, ok...just, go downstairs to him, I need someone to watch him just in case something happens."

Mabel appeared relieved, before switching into her excited state she usually preoccupied. "Okiee doke!"

She sprinted down the remainder of the staircase, disappearing from his sight. Stan rolled his eyes at her energetic behavior, before retracing his steps back to the attic. He entered, discovering Gideon was still buried underneath his blankets, hands peeked out from the top of the comforter. "You still awake?"

The blankets squirmed, before his chubby face peeked out, eyes squinting at him. "Y-Yes."

"Dipper had another panic attack and fell asleep. He might want to see you when he wakes up. He's down in my gue-uh, brother's room if you want to see him."

Gideon shoved the blankets away, hair sticking in every which direction, appearing to be sleepy. "O-Ok...a-are y-you g-going t-to...?"

Stan nodded, observing the bobbing of the freckled boy's adam's apple. "Yeah...are you sure you're alright?"

Gideon's eyes welled with tears, sniffling. The elder man sighed, settling himself on the edge of the bed beside his feet. "I take that as a no. Look, I could tell you some stuff like 'just forget about it' or 'everything is ok', but that would be a waste of time. Here's what we're going to do. Close your eyes."

"W-Wh-?"

"Just do it." He grumbled, covering his eyes with his hand.

"O-Ok."

He removed his hand a moment later, revealing his pale eyelids. "Ok, now imagine the scene."

Gideon trembled, tears leaking out, as he gasped. "N-No, p-please, I-I-"

"Those squirrels are the ones that they make into chew toys for dogs," His face scrunched up, though he no longer gasped. Gideon snorted and shook his head, trembling reducing. Stan smirked, realizing that this seemed to be effective. This was a technique Dick had told him worked, usually on children due to their imaginations, to make an event less traumatic. "That blood? Yeah, it's ketchup," He observed the freckled boy's nose scrunching in distaste. "Don't like ketchup? Well, it's Mabel Juice now."

Gideon's shoulders remained tense, though his lips were beginning to turn slightly upwards. He reached out, ignoring the flinch as his hand was set upon the back of Gideon's neck, and rubbed comfortingly. The tension drifted away, shoulders dropping. "Just think about all those pieces of the memory changing, each time you can't stop thinking about it."

Gideon's hand grasped at the the side of his wife beater, squeezing the fabric. "...t-thank you, M-Mr. Pines..."

"None of this 'Mr. Pines' crap. Just call me Stan or whatever."

His royal blue eyes fluttered open, hand twisting the material nervously. "O-Ok, S-S-S-St...S-Stan."

"Good, now, go downstairs and join Mabel, so you two can wait for Dipper to wake up." He told the child, removing his hand from the neck, beginning to stand.

Gideon continued to cling though, attempting to pull him back down to sit, crying out. "N-No!"

The elder man's automatic response was to go back down, in an attempt to save his wife beater from being stretched out. "Woah, woah, what's wrong now?" His mouth opened, forming soundless words, sweat breaking out along his face. "Uh, are you gonna have, uh, a panic attack like Dipper? Your face is starting to look sorta re-"

"N-No," Gideon finally managed to squeak out, before releasing his clenched fist from the fabric. "D-Dipper w-would w-want t-to s-see M-Ma-Ma-Mabel f-first."

"You could still be there, you know. They seriously don't mind if you are around them. You probably don't realize it, but they really like you a whole lot." Stan informed him, attempting to have Gideon understand that he didn't have a reason to be so reluctant around the twins.

"N-No, I-I d-don't n-need t-to..."

"So, let me get this straight; you want to stay in here, while I...you know...?" He gestured to the closet.

He caught the desperation on the child's paling face, before he shook his head. "N-No, I-I...g-going t-to w-watch T-TV..."

Stan raised an eyebrow at his behavior, observing as Gideon left the room, feeling somewhat confused on the freckled boy's line of thought. Another a memento passed, he was at the closet, taking a few deep breathes. He opened the door, detaching himself from his emotions. Stan reached out, snatching the body of one of the squirrels, sewing thread snapping, the corpse squishing in his hand. He proceeded to yank all the woodland creatures from the closet, dropping them to the floor. "That's the last one..." He dropped the final one, but it bounced off the pile of animals, flying underneath Dipper's bed. "Great, now I have to clean underneath there, too..."

Stan frowned at the bed, before getting on his hands and knees. His hand's reached underneath, frowning as he attempted to find the squirrel. He sighed, laying flat against the floor, cheek laid upon the floor as he looked underneath. The smell of floor cleaner overwhelmed his senses the moment he inhaled and he frowned deeper. "Why the hell does the floor-?"

The floor cleaner underneath the sink. His hand froze, touching the corpse of the squirrel, face draining of blood. Someone used floor cleaner in the attic. That was why the jug was completely empty. The abundance of dead animals would have taken quite of an amount of chemicals to clean, especially if blood stained the wooden floor. One of the twins killed the squirrels, using floor clearer for the mess. They removed their eyeball and strung them up for someone to fin-Stan gagged, the images of little hands digging into the head of a dead animal. He cursed, choking on a gag. "S-ugh-hit!" He threw the squirrel from out underneath the bed struggling to sit himself up, wheezing from the effort. Stan glanced at his hands, revealing blood on them, beginning to feel like he would honestly throw up now. "Con-ugh-trol it, Stan...breath...the kids didn-ugh-'t-do it..."

Stan steadied himself, piling the corpses into his arms, skin stained in blood now, aware that he had to remove the color soon. He dropped them on top of a spare blanket from the closet, wrapping them inside to hide them. Stan threw the sack of the creatures over his shoulders, peeking out of the room, cautiously watching for any sign of the children as he headed for outside. The eldest Pines headed to the tool shed, plucking up a shovel. Stan then headed to some underbrush nearby, beginning to dig underneath it. The ten minutes it took him to create a hole for their corpses felt too long and he dumped the entire bundle into the hole. He glanced around for any witnesses, before beginning to bury them, sweat already pouring down his body. The shovel was caked in blood by the end of it and he realized he could wash it, as he's taking a shower. Stan entered the house, locating another jug of floor cleaner, headed back upstairs to mop up the mess.

By the time he was finished with the entire mess, sweaty, covered in blood, panting, he was exhausted. He headed to the bathroom near his room, locking the door behind him. He glanced at his weary face, before reaching up, touching it, blood smearing across his cheek. Bill Cipher laugh echoing around him, causing the elder man to shudder. "Y-You're in control...you're in control..."

He didn't feel like he was though.

~!-?-!~

"Dipping Sauce? Are you waking up?" Mabel asked her brother, poking his cheek as his eyes fluttered open.

His hand shot out when she repeated the action, squeezing her finger until it hurt, growling. "Don't do that."

"Oh, you don't like that, Jason?" She began to poke him with her other finger.

Jason swatted away both her hands, frowning at her. "If you do that, again, you won't like what happens."

"You planning on breaking them?"

"No, I plan on ripping the damn things off."

Mabel rolled her eyes. "Language. And good luck with that."

Jason swallowed, grimacing as he sat up. "God, I feel like...ugh..."

"Well, that's what happens when you have a seizure, dork."

"Ugh, your voice is like ten thousand bees against a cheese grater. Just shut the heck up." He growled, rolling over and burying his face into the couch.

"...Jas, um, do you...want to meet Grunkle Stan?" She hesitantly asked, changing gears.

"The old man?"

"Um, sure."

"Why not? It will be amusing to work him up." He replied, rolling back over to reveal his mischievous smile.

Mabel frowned. "Jason, no. If you work him up, I-"

"What? Try to give me a bloody nose, again? I wanna see you do your wors-"

Mabel reached out, grasped onto a lock of his hair, and ripped it from his head. Jason howled in agony, grasping at his head. "WHAT THE HE-?!"

She flicked his nose, silencing his curse. "I can still hurt you, hon. Don't work him up or I'll pull out more."

He glared up at her, as she smiled sweetly at him, lock of hair in her hand. His glare melted away and he frowned. "...who are you?"

Mabel's eyes flashed a bluish hue. "Ah, very perceptive, doll. You're more interesting than little Pine Tree is."

"Just answer the question!"

"I am Jill Rephic, hon. And your snarky attitude is soooo cute!"

"Get the hell out of her." He growled.

"Now, why would I do that? Mabel is such a pretty young lady!" Jill cooed, twirling a lock of hair with one hand, stroking her own cheek with the other.

"You're disgusting. I swear to god, if you don't get out of her, I'll kill you."

"Now, Jason, how would you do that, without killing her? I honestly believed you had more mind inside that lovely head of your's," She replied, sniffing the lock of his hair, eyeing him. Jason swatted at her hand, causing the lock of hair to flutter from her hand. Jill's face darkened. "You should never hurt a lady."

"You're hurting her by possessing her body!" He exploded, leaning forward.

"What she doesn't know, doesn't hurt her. I've been inside her for a week, yet she isn't aware of it. Though, it seems her subconscious is aware, since she keeps staring at her little dainty hands. Perhaps me playing around with those precious little creatures wasn't a great idea, but, oh well."

"What did you make her do?" Jason's scrunched up in disgust.

"What she desires deep down; to inflict pain!" She giggled.

"You're sick!"

"Oh, but hon, I know that. I am me, after all. I embrace it thoroughly though, yesss!" She hissed, lips spread across her face in glee. Jason lurched up from the couch, ignoring the sharp pain of his tense muscles, jumping on top of Jill. His legs hugged her sides, hands throttling her neck, panting. Jill continued to giggle, though it sounded choked. "Y-You're so adorable when you're angry! I absol-"

The dream demon's voice was cut off with a series of chokes, as he applied enough force to silence the air flow through her mouth. "Shut the hell up!" Her smile vanished, lips a shade of blue, beginning to buck underneath him, hands wildly attempting to remove his hands from her neck. He only realized that she was no longer Jill, when he stared into the chocolate brown eyes. Jason instantly released her neck, rolling off her. Mabel released a symphony of choked coughs and wheezes, stroking her abused neck as she breathed deeply. "...well, at least you're aliv-"

Mabel reached out, grasping his collar, pulling him down to her. She smacked Jason across the face with her free hand, heaving as he stared at her in surprise. "D-Did you just smack me across the face?!"

She shoved him away, pointing at him with a trembling finger. "Bring Dipper back."

"Oh, come on. I've done worse things than chok-"

"Now," She hissed and he was silenced as a chill rolled down his spine, feeling as though Jill Rephic spoke to him instead of his sister. "Bring him back now."

He gulped, staring into her usually gentle eyes. He realized with a start, that this was the true Mabel, underneath the facade she placed on herself. This was the Mabel he had developed an interest in, finding her personality to be similar to his own, her dark side calling out to him. This was the dark side that had grown to detest the world, a sadistic plan for those that angered her. Her light personality was hanging by a thread at the moment and Jason knew it would be wise to retreat into the recesses of his mind, pushing Dipper to the forefront. He disappeared into the darkness, the last glimpse of consciousness staring into her eyes. And Dipper woke, revealing her snarled face inches from his own. "M-Mabel?"

Her snarl edged off, smile spreading across her face as she embraced him. "Don't ever leave, bro-bro."

While Jason Pines had been rejected, simmering within the confines of Dipper's mind, Jill Rephic had embraced the subconscious of Mabel's soul, awakening her dark side.

Chapter 28 End

I apologize for the wait, but I had a bit of writer's block. Anyways, I should be able to fit in one more chapter, before I start college, which may or may not affect the amount of time between updates. Depending on how well I adjust to my new schedule between work and school, my updates may be the same or take longer to do so. As always, reviews, followers, and favorites are appreciated!