Chapter 32

Disclaimer: Alex Hirsch owns Gravity Falls, not me.

It was dark. It was dark, a vortex of a star glittered night surrounding her, yet she could visualize all of the scenery beyond. She could visualize every image taking form. Yes, there were no sounds to be heard with those sights, but she heard what was meant to be seen. Images, coming in with waves of reflections, snapshots, and visions. She couldn't understand them. Clear visualizations were beginning to increase in clarity though. So many images. She simply needed to focus in order to decipher them. She watched. She watched and she witnessed the past, the present, and the future.

The child version of Stanley staring from the doorway of the apartment his family occupied, the ant-like figures of his brother and father playing baseball below. The beaten wooden bat released a crack as the ball was hit, flying a few feet away. The pair laughed, his father appearing lighter in personality, than when with him. His face twisted into a scowl, aware that he would never have his father love him the way he loved Stanford. He could never compare to his brother, not even if he became world renowned.

She witnessed the couples danced around the the joint, sweat glistening on their skin, as they spun. Carla McCorkle clapped her hands to the beat, silent laughter coming from her mouth, as she watched Fiddleford trip over Susan's leg. He flushed in embarrassment as his wife attempted to assist him in standing from the floor. Stan slapped his knee, bending over at the waist, laughing at him, as he struggled to stand. Fiddleford, now standing, punched Stan in the arm, face bright with blush. Stan laughed harder, pushing him off, wiping at his tears of laughter. The curator rolled his eyes, before stalking away from the dance floor. Stan headed over to the booth, to his laughing girlfriend, plopping down the seat in front of her. The Pines twin stared at her, taking in her beauty, as she stared him the eye, tilting her head. He removed a pen from his pocket, snatching a napkin from the dispenser at the table, and scribbled on it. He tossed it across the table, Carla plucking it up as she read it, before smiling at him. "Babe, it's you and me, forever and ever."

Her youthful face glowed, skin chocolate colored, lips set in a scowl. Stan's hands were placed on either side of his head, face exhibiting his panic, before pointing a toxic waste barrel, liquid hissing and bubbling across the jungle's ground. Claudine rolled her eyes, pointing at the remaining barrels, crossing her arms. He threw his arms out, aimed at the barrel in front of him, screaming. He gasped, the pair glancing over their shoulders, both appearing apprehensive.

Her great-uncle was curled up into a ball, on the metal frame of a bed, dingy mattress sagging beneath him. His hair was slick with sweat, unkempt, beard thickened across his jawline. His orange-jumpsuit was hanging from his thin form, a fist shoved into his mouth, attempting to block the noises emerging from his mouth. The full-moon shone through the bars of the prison window and he squeezed his tear filled eyes shut.

Stan grasped chunks of his hair from his head, squeezing his eyes shut, to remove the triangles that haunted his vision, a left over effect from Bill Cipher inhabiting his body. He suffered alone in the confines of his brother's room, choking on his screams of horror. They squirmed against him, the pointed corners jabbed into him, pains his mind hallucinated. Blood drizzled across his head, warm and thick, red seeping into his vision, despite his eyes being firmly shut. He howled for relief the entire night.

Her great-uncle was fuming at Fiddleford, spit flying from his lips, as he bellowed silently at the curator. The other man held a memory gun aimed at the Pines, appearing distressed, attempting to explain. Fiddleford frowned as he was continued to be yelled out, before punching in the word "Brother" into the gun, pointing it at Stan, appearing to show pity. Stan paused for a second, apprehension dancing across his face, before shaking his head, hissing at him, pointing a finger at the weapon. Fiddleford's lips stretched into a smile, waving it around as tears rolled down his face.

Her father, blocky glasses crooked on his face, screamed in the downpour, thunder flashing across the sky. Stan, appearing closer to his current age, was in the teen's face, screaming back, face beet red. Alex's finger jabbed at the man, trembling, face beginning to copy his uncle's color. He abruptly dropped the finger, face twisting into one of agony, bursting into tears.

Gideon Gleeful was lean and gangly, dark shadows surrounding his eyes, hair colored as a wheat field, swept to the side. Freckles spread across his cheeks, bottom lip split open, a gash across his forehead, bleeding steadily. He appeared dazed, leaning against the toilet, on the ground, a shadow looming over his small frame. He squeezed his eyes shut, accepting the pain that would be stricken upon him.

Her brother fell backwards, glimpse of a golden glow being caught, and his back slammed in the first steps of the wooden staircase. His body was flipped over moments later and he had the wind completely knocked out of him as his chest hit the stairs. When he flipped over once more, his leg was caught in the metal railing and he screamed as his leg bone was snapped in half from the force. He reached out instinctively, for the railing to cease his fall, his hand firmly grasping hold. His wrist popped out of place from the rest of body, which continued to move, and when his hand was flung from the railing, it smacked into the wooden step and he cried out from the crack it produced. He missed the final few steps, and fell onto the floor, back first. His head bounced off the title, and stars were in his vision.

She witnessed herself, unlocking the front door of her house, tossing her backpack onto the couch, as she slammed the door behind herself. Her lips moved, cupping her mouth, as she shouted something. She smiled, heading towards the staircase. She froze in front of the staircase, observing the red spread across the floor and her brother lying out in the center of it. She backed away, feeling horrified by the sight, running into the wall behind her. She covered her eyes, sliding down, and drew her knees up to her chest. A wicked smile spread across her face, the blood exciting her within, but it dropped as she thought about her brother being dead. Her emotions and lips alternated back and forth, for hours, until her parents came home to discover Dipper lying there.

Dipper opened his mouth in a ghastly scream, lurching up from his bed, at his doctor. The man was grasped from behind by an orderly, pulled away from harm's way. They began to firmly hold down his limbs. He bucked beneath the weight of them, then bit deeply into one of their arms. The orderly jerked away, gasping, as blood poured down his arm. Dipper had pierced through the skin, taking a chuck from the man, spitting it out onto another orderly. A female orderly ripped his shirt up, revealing his stomach, before stabbing a plunger full of liquid in. Merely seconds later, his bucking reduced, sluggishly flopping, before his struggles died off.

Ariel Pines pointed at the pamphlet she printed out to her husband, as he glanced up from his computer work done at home. She pointed at the image of children, enjoying themselves at a type of summer camp. Alex nodded in approval, unaware of her lies beginning build. There would be no summer camp, for the twins were heading to Gravity Falls to meet Stanford Pines, Alex not one to approve of the man. She had to lie to her dear husband, for Dipper to leave, to enter a new environment to help his unstable mind. She hoped it would work and that Alex would never discover the lies.

Dipper and her stepped off the bus, observing the vast Oregon forest, spread out around them. The bus chugged away and Dipper anxiously whispered something to her. She frowned, before glancing over to the left and seeing the elder man approach them. She grinned, before whispering back, then waving at the man. Dipper grimaced, as they received a better view of him, staring at his eyepatch. The man shook their hands, before pointing at his eyepatch, spookily whispering something. Dipper paled, before Stan laughed, removed the eyepatch, and winked at the startled 12-year-old.

She observed Gideon Gleeful danced upon his stage, in the spotlight, spreading his arms wide, a glint of madness in his eyes. They flashed between a glowing bluish hue, to a dulled hue. His made eye contact with Mabel, eyes pure glowing, and smiled possessively, nobody else seen to his influenced mind. She smiled back, unaware of the control Jill Rephic had over him, as the dream demon thought about how attractive her soul was, exactly how she viewed Stanley's soul.

Her face beamed in excitement, as she sprinted across the carnival grounds, excited about the prospect of viewing a pig. Her eyes greedily observed the pen of filthily animals, eyes swiveling about, before viewing Waddles. She gasped as he squeaked, pointing at him as she exclaimed an unknown phrase. She beamed brighter than before, as the pig squeaked once more. Waddles...where had he gone? Waddles had missing for at least a week, unknown to the entire Pines family, including herself. How could she possibly forget him?

Pacifica entered the Stanley Mobile, after the entire golfing incident that happened that late night, appearing uncomfortable around the Pines and Soos in the passenger seat, the oldest pair singing. She grimaced at the silent, off tune voices, glancing around the filthy vehicle. Mabel chewed on her taco beside her, before offering her own. Pacifica appeared bewildered, as the brunette spoke with her mouth full. She frowned at the blonde, before she hesitantly took the food from Mabel's extended hand. Her lips twitched into a smile, beginning to understand compassion within these people.

Stan turned to reveal Dipper hovering by the doorway, the screen door blurring his features. He began to grin, intending to mock the preteen, but imminently dismissed the idea when he studied him. Despite the blur, he could view the panic laced across his face, his hand clutching the front of his shirt, hunched over in fear. Stan's face morphed into concern, unaware that it was doing so, completely ignoring the potential customers for once, and heading over to the screen door. He pulled it open, removing his fake eyepatch, shoving it in his pocket, to get a better look at his great-nephew. Dipper was pale as a ghost and looked a bit surprised about his presence. He released a sigh and grasped Dipper's thin arm, by his thick hand. Dipper's surprise increased, as Stan pulled him into the Mystery Shack.

Gideon Gleeful and Dipper Pines stared at each other. Dipper stood there, cradling his injured arm, hat missing from his head. Gideon was curled into a ball, knees to chest. His pudgy arms were tucked against his chest, hands curled around each other, as if holding something there protectively. His cheeks had splotches of red, eyes puffy from crying. His eyes. They were a deep, cobalt blue. Weren't they usually a lighter color than that? Tears drizzling down his freckled face. His normally perfect hair was lopsided and had stray pieces sticking out in every which direction.

Dipper blindly grasped the metal chain, dangling from the ceiling, and tugged on it. The closet was enveloped with light, revealing there to be triangles surrounding him. His mouth slowly gaped open and all the blood left his face. The mess bestrewn across the floor, dizzily swam before his face. His eyes shifted to his sister and Gideon. They were triangles. Triangles with familiar colors, distorted into one another, overwhelming his senses. Dipper staggered backwards, into the door, and fell over. He released a violent scream of horror as the triangles began to squirm. They twitched and trembled as if a mass of bees, sluggishly approaching him. Blood, blood splattered across the entire area. Curling into a ball, Dipper clenched fistfuls of his unruly hair, and shook his head. He was producing harsh gasps between each cry.

-her hands reached out, to his fuzzy face, unable to be identified, he shied from the them. He ended up tripping backwards, onto the bed in his fear. Her hands were now on either side of his face, body leaning onto his legs. His eyes widened, body frozen, blush creeping into his neck. She leaned further in, straddling his legs, lips brushed against his nose. She felt her heart thumping wildly, excitement coursing through her veins. Her lips- STOP. NO NEED TO TO VISUALIZE THAT, MY DEAR.

Stan was on his hands and knees, the hazmat suit's protective layers bubbling, melting underneath the heat of the drumming portal. He staggered to his feet, knees trembling, a mass of rainbow colors surrounding the portal. He appeared to be alone, opening the machine on his own. His face was confident as he approached the entrance, legs quaking with each step, the pressure increasing. He began to float, feet brushing crossing the floor, before losing balance. He flew head over heels, and heels, and heels, and heels, through the portal. Bill Cipher appeared, as the vision darkened, millions of clocks appearing behind him, silently ticking away. The clocks quaked, before shattering into billions of pieces, Bill retreating into the darkness, leaving her alone.

Mabel woke with a gasp, panting, as she realized what Stanford Pines was planning on doing alone, despite her deal and his promises. She tossed the covers aside, aware she had a limited amount of time, jumping from her bed. The door swung wide open, leaving a sleeping Wendy, as she bolted up the staircase, to her brother and best friend, warning on the tip of her tongue.

Chapter 33 End

Starting off with, I've been wanting to do Mabel's version of the dreams the twins have, ever since Dipper's one, and I thought now would be as good as time as any. The birthday for Gideon will be in the following chapter. Notes for this chapter include: Before "A Tale of Two Stans", I had envisioned Stan(Grunkle Stan) being the favorite child and Stanley(Grunkle Ford) being the one that wasn't as liked, though it turns out it was the opposite of that. Just like Dipper, Stan has suffered aftereffects of a dream demon possessing him, though I always imagined that they had faded over time (though that doesn't mean they ever went away) and that every person has these aftereffects. One example would be Gideon's hair dying and losing the natural coloring it has. The scene with Fiddleford and the memory gun, well, I may go into detail of that in a future. The scene with Alex Pines is the memory Stan has in Chapter 19, where he shouts this at him: "I hate you! I hate you and I hate my deadbeat father! If it wasn't for you two my mom would be alive and happy! I HATE YOU SO MUCH!" Alex hasn't a clue, that his wife has lied to him about the summer camp. Ariel knew he wouldn't approve of the idea, considering he isn't that fond of Stan. As always, I appreciate favorites, followers, and reviews!