Back into the Woods

SUMMARY: When Dipper goes back into the woods late at night he starts to have another meltdown; Stan comforts Dipper and tells him that the family will always be there for him.

MAIN CHARACTERS: Dipper Pines and Stanley Pines

Well, well, well, what are we gonna do today Pine Tree?

Dipper sits upright in his bed, his glasses askew on his face and the journal that he had on his lap when he fell asleep crashed to the floor. His chest was pounding in his chest, the blood roaring in his years, his eyes darting around frantically. Slowly he puts a hand to his head, trying to take deep breaths.

That voice still echoed in Dipper's head, a soft cackle.

Pine Tree…!

"Get out of my head…" Dipper barely whispers, trying not to wake his slumbering sister on the other side. "Please… please just leave me alone…" he then glances at the pill bottle that was next to his bed, it containing small blue pills. He had already took his dose that night… and since going to therapy and the psychologist his medicine was gradually increased in dosage. Dipper hadn't had a nightmare in quite some time… so why was it happening?

The woods… shake my hand.

"No." Dipper growled lowly. Mabel in her bed groaned and rolled over, adjusting the covers on herself.

Pine Tree…

The echoing wouldn't stop in his head, so he got out bed and started pacing the room, the floorboards creaking beneath him. There was a soft mew at his feet, Orion suddenly appearing, his yellow eyes glowing in the darkness. Dipper picks up the cat and starts petting him, the negative energy slowly being sapped from him. It wasn't enough however, the echoing of Bill's laughter still rung in the teenager's head.

The woods…

Subconsciously, Dipper strips from his pajama pants and puts on his jeans, keeping on his orange t-shirt he wore to bed. He puts on a thick, black hoodie as it was cold outside. Since he was going into the woods he put on his hunting boots, and of course to top everything off he put on his trusty pine tree hat. He was still not allowed to have a gun after his incident, and he wasn't even allowed to have a knife, but he knew where Mabel hid her knife…

He gently puts his hand under Mabel's pillow, his handing finding her defense pocket knife. It was a dark purple color, it covered with stickers on the handle. It had a small blade that can cut through a seatbelt in case it was stuck and a window breaker on the end to break glass. Dipper slips it into his jeans pocket.

As he tried to walk out the room, Orion sat in front of the door, blocking his way. The small kitten gives what sounded like a worried mew.

"Orion, you can't come with me, buddy," Dipper whispers to the cat, picking him up and setting him on the bed. "Go sleep with Mabel, I'll be back in an hour or so…" He then puts his hand to the pine tree pendant that was around his neck and he removes it, staring into the glittering stone. "This was supposed to help me… but now I am not so sure…" Instead of putting it back on he slips it into his pocket and leaves the room.

Going down the stairs was a challenge in the old house as the floorboards creaked no matter where you walked on. He slowly descended the stairs, trying not to disturb anyone, especially Ford as he was a very light sleeper. Once he was at the bottom he peaked into the room that was Stan's, hearing the old conman snore loudly, and Dipper gently sighs with relief. He then proceeds to Ford's room, the door slightly cracked, and when Dipper peaked his head in the old scientist was actually asleep on his couch he used as a bed, snoring away and mumbling about someone; Dipper couldn't really make out what he was saying… magnum…? Like a gun? Lila? Layla? Dipper couldn't tell, so he just gently shut the door.

Dipper exits the house and walks the very familiar path that led into the woods, the darkness almost welcoming. The air was crisp and cold, the smell of decaying leaves filling the brunette's nostrils, some frost gently glittering on the forest floor by the pale half-moon. His hands stayed in his pockets, his right hand gripped tightly around the knife in case something were to pop out at him. Obviously he was much better with a gun, but he knew how to use a knife as well, so he wasn't completely defenseless.

The path he walked on in the darkness was like walking in a dream, it was like he knew exactly where he was going. Below his feet the leaves crunched and rustled, a few twigs snapping, an owl hooting in the distance. More than once Dipper felt some sort of monstrous gaze on him, but they ignored him to his amazement.

Soon, the path opens up to a clearing, the moonlight breaking the skylight of leaves above, a beam of moonlight shining upon the familiar triangular statue.

Dipper slowly walks up to the statue, glaring at the extended stone hand. "So, what do you want, you triangular bastard?" Dipper growls at it, his eyes narrow. There was no response. The boy scoffs, "Knew it… it's just my brain messing with me… you're gone."

Pine Tree… take my hand…

It was almost automatic, Dipper raising his hand. Before his hand could grasp the stone hand he froze, his brown eyes wide and his heart racing. Something told him that it wasn't a good idea… but at the same time something was telling him to do it.

Dipper grasps the stone hand, a blue flame enveloping around them. Flashes upon flashes seared into Dipper's brain… the monsters, the blood, the death… ripped holes in space and time, the portal… It was hurting him.

He starts to scream, trying to let go of the hand, but it wasn't letting him, the stone hand seemingly having a tight grip on him. Everything was burning, his lungs feeling like they weren't getting any air. Gasping, he tried to scream again, but nothing was coming out. Something fell out of his pocket… the knife.

Struggling, he reached for it with his free hand. As his hand gripped around it, a memory flashed of a sword swiftly slicing through the fragile flesh of some poor person's head, a fountain of blood following suit. The boy gasps in horror, tears burning his eyes as he hears a disturbing laugh… except it wasn't Bill's, it was his own.

I'm bound to Pine Tree's soul!

Bound to my soul...? What does that mean…?

Dipper flips the blade, the blade a pure black with a silver edge. It looked so sharp… like a sword…

He glances at his flaming hand, still gripped to the statue. Slowly, he raises the knife. He had to escape… he had to escape… he can't handle it anymore. The blade presses against his skin, him hissing in pain as a line of scarlet formed. He then raises it to make a full swing… but the blade froze just inches above his wrist.

Dipper feels his mouth twist into a sadistic smile.

"Pine Tree… that isn't smart… you'll kill yourself…" Dipper shakes his head, the smile fading. The knife was still just inches about his wrist, the image of himself in bloodied massacre of mutilated bodies arranged in a sickening way, like dolls in dollhouse, doing normal human activities. Instead of going for his wrist, the knife found his way into his stomach, him making a gargled sound, and he collapses onto the forest floor, his hand still tightly gripped to the statue.

It wasn't enough to release him…

"Help…" Dipper weakly calls out, feeling his life's blood pouring from him. "Please help… I don't want… to hurt… anymore… I… want… to be… free…" he felt his eyes getting heavier and heavier, tears blurring his remaining vision. "Help me…"

Everything went black.

"-er!" a distant voice calls out to him.

The boy groans.

"Dipper!" the voice called out again, sounding low and gruff.

Dipper blinks open his eyes to see Stan's brown gaze on him. The boy had his head on his great uncle's lap, a blanket wrapped around him. His hand was no longer gripped to the statue's, and the wound in his stomach wasn't even there… was that a hallucination? The blood on the knife that had fallen next to him told a different story.

"Dipper!" Stan sternly shouts. "What the hell are you doing out here?! Where did the blood on the knife come from!?" his voice was getting my frantic sounding, him struggling to stay calm. Dipper knew Stan shouting and acting angry was a defense mechanism from when he was deeply scared and worried.

"Grunkle Stan…" Dipper whispers, his lip quivering. The tears start flowing and he starts crying as if he were a little kid again. Slowly he sits up, taking his glasses off, and he puts his face in his hands, he body convulsing within itself from his despair. A pair of arms wrapped around him, giving him a comforting hug.

"Just let it out, kid…" Stan tells him softly. "Just let it out."

And Dipper did, his sobs ripping from his throat. Eventually he ended up crying into Stan's shoulder, feeling like a small child. His body shook violently, him hiccupping and gasping for air. Gently Stan rubbed his back, trying to soothe him, and he whispered something that Dipper couldn't hear through his crying.

What felt like hours later, Dipper stopped crying, the tears finally drying up. He stayed in his huddled position against his great uncle, trying to feel safe. Stan continued to rub his great nephew's back, telling him to take deep breaths.

"I'm sorry, Grunkle Stan…" Dipper finally whispered, his voice hoarse and raw sounding from his crying.

Stan seemed taken back. "For what?" he asks in surprise.

"I… I bet it isn't very masculine to cry like that…" Dipper admits.

Stan then forces Dipper to look him straight in the eye. "Dipper… you went through something terrible… and what you did was the bravest thing I have ever seen in my entire life. You and Ford are the strongest people I have ever met… If I were half as strong as you two I'd be damn lucky."

Dipper sniffles, "But… I was crying…"

"Kid, it's okay to cry like that," Stan tells him. "I wish I had someone back when I was first kicked out to cry to… that was all I wanted to do, but my damn pride got in the way. You were holding it in too long… and that's not healthy."

"Grunkle Stan…?" Dipper responds, him rubbing his eyes to wipe away the tears with his right hand as his left held his glasses.

"So… if you need to cry… do it. I'll be here for you. Ford will be here for you. And you know damn well Mabel will be with you and even cry with you," Stan firmly says. "Don't hold it in anymore… just let it out."

Dipper then throws his arms around Stan into a hug. "Thank you… thank you, Grunkle Stan. I love you…"

"I love you too, Dipper…" Stan whispers, his voice cracking as he tried to choke back a sob. "I'll always love ya, so please… don't try to hurt yourself again… please don't."

Dipper nods fiercely, him starting to sob again.

"C'mon, kid, let's go home… we both need some sleep." Stan states, him slowly getting up, Dipper gripped tightly to him, not wanting to let go. The kid was then snoring gently, finally falling asleep, and Stan adjusts Dipper into a piggyback position and starts walking back towards the Shack, Dipper's glasses in hand so they wouldn't break.

As the old conman walked through the forest, the sun began to rise, a burst of bright blues scattering across the horizon.

A/N: There was too much fluff, time to bring in the feels again!

Thanks for reading as always!

~Skye Hendersen~