A/N: Some heady stuff today folks, sorry for the wait.
...
Dipper necked back another mouthful of the foul-tasting vodka. He couldn't stand the stuff, and he'd paid the guy who bought it for him way more than it was worth, but he didn't care. He didn't care because right now, he was drunk.
He stumbled against a tree, looking round uselessly. He'd wandered into the park and it was pretty late. Even that woman whose house he lived in…mom, was it? Even she'd be wondering where she was. Would Mabel? He chugged another mouthful, fighting the urge to spit it on the floor.
He scrambled up the hill, it took more than a few tries in his state. The ground kept moving, making it a lot harder. As he threw himself to the floor in an attempt to get things to stay still, he weighed the merits of continuing to drink, then downed another mouthful.
No he wasn't drunk, he mused, as the world shivered and shook. He was drunk about an hour ago, now he was something else. Drunked? Drunkest? Drunker? Drunker. He settled on that, satisfied.
Dipper hauled himself up against the back of a bench looking out over the park. Across the flat green below, past the hedge and two or three streets further on was home, but he wasn't ready to go there yet. He hadn't even stopped home after school, not after he'd seen Mabel. Not after that.
He took another swig, ignoring the sensation that his mind was sloshing about in his skull. Okay, so he was running away, he was a coward, he was scared. He knew all that now, it had been revealed to him ever more clearly in the past few days. But he wasn't going home until he could figure this out.
What did he want? What did he want? He wanted Mabel to be happy, he wanted her to talk to him again, he wanted her not to hate him. His brow furrowed at the effort of thinking through the alcohol induced haze.
But they were all things that…they were just things that needed to be. Mabel needed to be happy, because he cared for her regardless of everything else, and he wanted to talk to her because…that was simply what they should be doing. But what did he want?
Mabel wanted to go to college with together, she wanted them to be together, she wanted them to really…be together. But did he? Did-
"Hey kiddo, what're you moping about?" A scratchy voice tore through his thoughts.
He looked up shakily, then his eyes widened and his jaw nearly hit the floor.
"…Grunkle Stan?!"
He was so drunk.
…
He watched as Mabel hurled herself into the throng of dancers again, dragging Lucy behind her.
They were coming up on the end of their third year of highschool and to celebrate, Mabel and her friends in the band, and Dipper's friends had pooled their cash and gone to a three-day music festival outside Oakland. It had been a lot of fun, even if for the first day his friends and her friends had struggled to connect. Alcohol, as always, had been a great icebreaker.
Dipper grinned as Dave barrelled into the crowd with a roar that turned to laughter as those around him tried and failed to get out of his way. It was a shame Nick hadn't been able to get back in time for this, he was coming back for their last year after all. His friend hadn't been sure at first, but his parents had finally decided to make the move back and Dipper was glad to hear one of his oldest friends would be here for their last year at high school.
He took a swig of the cheap beer the festival had on tap. Tasted like shit, but it did the job. Dipper wasn't sure where Blake and Ned had gotten to, the current band must have just not been their thing.
Mabel suddenly appeared again at the edge of the crowd, struggling to free herself in a fit of giggles as she staggered out. Like always, she'd gone the whole hog for this. Her hair had flowers and dozens of clips braided into it. She was wearing a pair of huge aviators and a fluorescent pink hairband. She was wearing a pair of faded and torn shorts, a pair of flowery-patterned leggings and a loose-fitting sleeveless top that looked like somebody had vomited a rainbow onto it.
Dipper supposed he was completely plain, by comparison, having settled on a pair of black jeans and a red chequered shirt. She waved excitedly, on seeing him. He waved back. She ran over and jumped into him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist. This time he managed to stay on his feet, catching her.
"Come on Dipper, you can't just stand around all day!" She kissed him on the forehead.
It was innocent enough, but he still found himself looking around warily.
He found himself wondering about them again, he and Mabel. They'd been like this for the past year, ever since that night in Gravity Falls. They existed in this strange kind of…limbo. They both knew they were too close, they'd become…something more than siblings. But…
She smiled at him expectantly, pulling her glasses up onto her forehead, and all doubts in his mind fizzled out again, as they so often did. The fact he was half-drunk probably helped some. He liked her smile, the light in her eyes, the curve of her cheeks as her lips curled. It was a smile for him and he found he liked it. She had a pretty smile, Mabel always had.
You weren't supposed to think things like this about your sister. Was she thinking the same thing about him? He wasn't sure it made him feel any better to think she might.
"Let's go then shall we?" He smiled back, burying his misgivings. He threw her over his shoulder and she squealed, kicking her legs and laughing as they got lost in the crowd.
…
Dipper rubbed his eyes for the umpteenth time, but Grunkle Stan was still standing there, same old grin plastered on his same old face.
"Cat got your tongue, Dippy?" Stan reached out and swiped the bottle from his hand, chugging back several mouthfuls. He let out a contented sigh, then sat beside him.
Dipper was still trying to tell himself that this was a dream, or an illusion, or a hallucination of some description. But since when did drunken visions steal your booze and drink half of it like it was nothing?
"What the hell are you doing here?" He managed, ignoring the spike of nausea that suddenly washed over him.
"Heard my favourite nephew was in a spot of bother, I did." Stan stated as if it was obvious.
"I'm your favourite nephew?" Dipper asked, raising an eyebrow. Stan looked thoughtful for a second.
"Oh yeah, sorry, that was the other one." He let out a barking laugh, slapping Dipper on the back. Dipper managed to not end up sprawled over the floor.
He let Stan take the bottle again and watched as he down more of the Vodka like it was water. Dipper struggled not to drown as another wave of queasiness crashed over him.
"So what's up Dippy?"
A thousand thought ran through his brain in that instant, most telling him not to talk to Stan at all, but then they all fell silent under the dominating presence of Grunkle Stan.
"I don't even know where to start." Dipper shrugged.
"At the beginning of course!" Stan slapped the top of his head. "You could be the slow one sometimes, Dippy."
"Mabel always says that."
Stan took another swig, his head felt clouded, and his eyes heavy, but he began to tell Stan everything.
…
It was dark now, but the lights of the stage cast a blue glow over the dancing crowd. Ned and Blake still hadn't turned up, and they'd lost Lucy and Dave over an hour ago. They didn't care too much though, when it came down to it, they always seemed to wind up together.
Dipper knew he was pretty drunk now, the lights, the music, the press of the crowd, it was all overwhelming, but he was loving it. Mabel was lost in her own world, dancing to the music and probably even more drunk than he was. She could put it away a lot better than he ever could. He watched her, as he moved to the music. Her body writhed and shook, curled lithely with the beat. She was energetic, supple…stirring.
"Jesus, you're beautiful, Mabel."
Her eyes locked with his and he realised he'd said it out loud.
"I…I mean um…" He blurted, but she pressed a finger to his lips. Was he blushing, was she? Was it just the heat?
"You're not bad yourself, Dip." She grinned back.
Before he knew what was happening, she was pressed up against him, body rubbing against his as she danced. Soon, he felt himself slip away as instinct took over and he held her. Moments later, her arms were wrapped around his shoulders and their lips were pressed together, tongues exploring each other's mouths.
Any sense of how wrong this was was long gone. He wanted her, and he could feel she wanted him. He ignored the wolf-whistle of somebody in the crowd beside them, they didn't know what the fuck they were looking at.
Holding each other tightly, kissing and in a tangle of limbs they fought their way free of the crowd. Not once breaking eye contact, not once giving a thought to all the people around them. They didn't know where they were going, but they'd know when they got there.
…
"Heck of a story kiddo." Stan nodded, thoughtfully. He down the remnants of the bottle.
Dipper clutched his head, why was it spinning so much? Why couldn't he think? Pinning down a thought right now was like trying to catch a fish with your hands.
"A story?" He snapped, half laughing. "I'm in love with my sister you bastard."
"Sounds like she's in love with you, too. Tricky, tricky."
A spike of anger shot through him and he swung a fist at Stan, who didn't even move as Dipper missed by a mile.
"She loves me, she loves me and I don't even deserve it. I broke her damn heart for fucks sake. She's my sister and I broke her heart!" He roared.
"What do you want, Dippy?"
"I want Mabel to be happy!" Dipper yelled. "I want her to be happy."
"No, that's the brother speakin' Dippy. What do you want?"
His mind raced, why the fuck couldn't he just fucking think for a minute?"
"I want things to go back to how they were…"
"Do you?" Stan asked.
…
They crashed into one another, hands all over each other. They hadn't gone back to their tents, where the others might be. Instead settling on a secluded spot just outside the site, behind a row of bushes in a small copse of trees.
Classy, Dipper mused briefly, before his thoughts were overwhelmed by his sister again.
He felt her undoing his belt as he lifted her top over his head. Her skin shone with sweat in the glow of the moon. He found himself cupping one of her breasts through her bra, a feeling like an electric shock ran through him. Her hand found its way to his cheek as they locked lips again. He didn't care anymore, were they really going to do this? They were really going to do this.
Mabel must have noticed a flicker in his eyes as she undid the button on her shorts, letting them fall and leaving her, like him, in his underwear as they knelt down together, tangled in one another still and lost themselves in one another on the ground.
"Dipper!" She gasped, as he ran a hand up her thigh.
They were going to do this, he thought. Were they really going to do this?
Through the drunken haze, the voice of reason began battering at the door of Dipper's mind. He blinked and stopped, looking up at Mabel as she straddled him. She was looking down at him, eyes full of yearning, her hair cascading over her shoulders and around his face.
"…wait." He managed.
She stopped.
The voice of reason gave a little cheer.
"…wait, wait, this is too…it's too fast, Mabel." He grunted, trying to sit up.
He felt guilty at the look of hurt that flickered across her face. He succeeded in untangling himself and sitting up so they were face to face.
"What is it?" She mumbled.
"We…we can't just…" He didn't know how to make her understand when even he still didn't understand. "We need to talk about…this." He gestured to the two of them.
She bit her lip and looked down. Neither said anything for at least a minute, brains trying to play catch-up with their bodies.
"I…I think I love you, bro."
Though it was still surprising to hear her say it, it wasn't exactly entirely an unexpected revelation anymore.
"I think I…I think I love you too." He replied, softly.
They looked at each other, the weight of what they were saying, what they'd almost just done finally sinking in.
"What now?" Mabel asked, laying a hand on his.
He took her hand, giving it a squeeze.
"We talk."
…
Dipper's heard pounded. His thoughts twisted and turned and crashed into one another. He buried his head in his hands. He loved her, he loved her more than anything and he wanted her. He wanted his sister. He wanted Mabel. What had he done, what the fuck had he done.
"No I don't want to fucking go back. What the fuck have I been doing, what the fuck have I done? This was our chance, our chance to get away together and I completely fucked it up!" He was shouting but he didn't care, there was nobody around. "I don't want to apologise and have us go back to…to that nothing, between siblings and…and being more. I kept us like that, me. I did. I was afraid and I kept us in that nothing in between."
He was on his feet suddenly, yelling at the top of his voice now and crying.
"I love her damn it, I want us to go on together and I want…I want…I want to love her, I want her to love me!"
He turned sharply toward Stan. Stan remained seated, calm. The old man's lip curled in the barest hint of a smile.
Dipper felt his knees shake, then his legs gave out and he crashed to the floor. He was so fucking tired. His eyes were so heavy, he could no longer keep them open. Where was Stan? Why wasn't he helping? He didn't give a damn anymore.
His last thoughts were of Mabel smiling, before he felt himself drown in blackness.