Chapter VIII: No Strings
Mabel opened the fridge and withdrew her pitcher of Mabel Juice, relieved to find that there was at least enough left for a few cups of it. She needed to be at peak efficiency for tonight, and however many milligrams of caffeine were mixed into her secret recipe was exactly what the doctor ordered. Doctor Mabel, of course.
She poured herself a cup, picked out the plastic unicorn, and then chugged it one long gulp.
Ah. Perfect.
Practice had gone very well, but she knew it was always the final stretch that mattered most. It was never too late for nerves to ruin everything, but dangit, she was Mabel Pines! She didn't mess things up!
Not usually at least.
She poured herself another cup, but only took sips from it this time as she paced the length of the kitchen.
It was 6:00. They were gonna leave in about twenty minutes, and get there with probably thirty minutes to spare. She'd already freshened herself up, and Candy and Grenda were busy putting final touches on their outfits. Grunkle Stan was doing… whatever it was he spent his time doing. Probably old man things. She'd seen Wendy go up to the roof to relax, and Soos had gone into the museum to fix up something that her grunkle had busted up while they were gone.
As much as she'd have liked them all to squish into the Stanmobile and go as a group, she knew that it wasn't exactly safe. And honestly, she wasn't sure they'd fit even if they tried.
Grenda and Soos were both pretty big, and Wendy needed a lot of legroom.
She sighed as she took another sip of Mabel Juice. At least they were going.
Unlike Dipper.
Who she still needed to go talk to about the journal.
She groaned theatrically.
"Is everything okay?" Candy asked.
Mabel whirled around to face her friend, who stood in the doorway. "Uh, duh! Why wouldn't it be?" She laughed awkwardly.
Candy pressed her lips together, not looking particularly convinced. Her eyes narrowed behind her glasses, full of suspicion.
"Okay, fine," Mabel continued, instantly crumbling before her friend's judgment. "I'm putting off talking to Dipper."
Candy's judgment melted into dismay. "Mabel! I said I could talk to him. It was I who took the journal, not you."
Mabel waved her free hand. "Yeah but he doesn't know that! You've seen how prickly he's been this week. He's like a really tired, sweaty hedgehog, and I don't want him poking you!"
The mental image of Dipper as a hedgehog made her giggle, but Candy was still frowning at her.
"He is not a beast, Mabel."
Mabel wagged a finger at her. "You haven't seen him today."
In fact, she'd only seen him briefly herself. And, well, he wasn't looking too approachable. He looked like a vampire! And not the hot kind. Not even the weird ones that glittered in the sunlight either.
Grenda barreled into Candy from behind, pushing them both into the kitchen with a squeal. "Seen who today?" she asked with all the subtlety of an explosion, raising her eyebrows suggestively. "Gabe?"
"No, Dipper," Candy answered as soon as she'd adjusted her glasses back into their proper position.
Grenda grunted disappointedly. "Well I just saw him up in your room."
"And he looked half dead, right? All grumpy?" Mabel asked as she pulled the skin under her eyes down. "With big ole bags under his eyes?"
Grenda scratched the back of her head. "...He seemed like he was in a pretty good mood to me. He helped me find a hair tie!" She swished her ponytail around and pointed helpfully at her new hair tie. "See? It's red!"
Huh! He'd barely said a word to her this morning before he'd disappeared up into the attic.
Candy gave her a look. "I can apologize to him."
Mabel chugged the rest of her glass of Mabel Juice and slammed it down onto the counter with a vengeance. "No! I'll do it!" She yelled, rushing forward and squeezing between her two friends before Candy could take off for the stairs. "Grenda, hold her down!"
As she passed into the hallway, she heard Candy yelp, confirming that her soldier had followed orders.
Full of the rush of competition, she soared up the stairs two at a time, and was standing outside the door to her and Dipper's shared bedroom within fifteen seconds.
(Possibly a new record!)
But as she grabbed the doorknob, her caffeine-fueled exuberance dulled ever so slightly, and she hesitated.
How was she gonna say it? Would he get even more mad at her? She didn't wanna have an argument with him, not right now.
Or… not ever really. She hated arguing with Dipper when it wasn't just a silly game..
As she waffled between ways she might apologize, the sound of a drawer being slammed shut broke her out of her thoughts.
Wait. Was that her drawer?
She opened the door quietly, and, sure enough, her ears hadn't failed her. Dipper was kneeling over beside her bed, rifling through her nightstand.
"Dipper, what are you doing?" she asked, trying to keep her tone light.
He didn't turn around. "Just lookin' for something!"
Mabel bit her lip. There was only one thing he could be looking for, wasn't there? She didn't have anything else he'd need that she could think of. "...the journal?"
"Yep!" Dipper chirped, before he pulled a notebook out from the drawer, looked at it briefly, and then tossed it onto her bed with a shake of his head. "Couldn't find it where I'd left it."
Mabel's heart sank.
Time to come clean.
"Ah... That's because... I kinda... too–borrowed it for the show." Dipper abruptly stopped his searching, but once she was talking, it was a lot easier to keep going. "You seemed like you were pretty focused on the laptop, so I thought I'd have it back here before you even noticed! I'm sorry bro-bro, I should've asked."
Dipper stood up unsteadily, and finally turned around to face her fully.
Maybe it was because she expected him to be mad, but when he smiled at her, she couldn't help but agree with what Grenda had told her. He did seem to be in a much better mood. For the first time in days, he didn't look like his brain was in three places at once, and the bags under his eyes didn't stand out so starkly.
"No worries," he said, his smile widening, "as long as it's safe!"
Mabel let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "It's totally safe, I promise. We have it up in the rafters, and no one will be allowed up there besides us."
"That's good enough for me," Dipper said with a nod. "Just wouldn't want it ending up in the wrong hands."
Mabel grinned. He was... honestly taking it pretty well. He'd been so annoyed when she brought up Pacifica a few days ago, she'd really expected a lot worse. Something must have happened to put him in such a good mood.
Oh!
"Wait! Did you finally crack the code?" she asked, excited.
Dipper's eyes lit up, his smile turning into a grin to match hers. "I smashed it."
She hopped in place, clapping her hands. He really hadn't needed her help after all! Though, she definitely wasn't going to say that to his face. "What'd it say? Did it have anything good? Did you figure out who the author is?"
"Oh, it told me plenty," he said, still grinning, "but I'll need the journal to get any further." Her face fell, but he waved her off. "You can keep it for tonight! I've got all the time in the world..." He turned away from her slightly and stroked his chin. "...In fact, I think I'm in the mood to see your show after all."
Mabel almost exploded. "Really?" she gasped, only barely restraining the urge to launch herself at him in a bone crushing hug. When he nodded, she squealed. "You won't regret it! It's gonna be amazing!" She bounced on her heels. "You're gonna have to go with Wendy and Soos though, the Stanmobile's all full up."
"As long as I get there," he replied with a chuckle, before he looked around at the mess he'd made. "Mind helping me out with all this sis?"
"I'll clean it all up tonight, don't you worry! As payment for taking the journal without asking first." Her heart swelled up with happiness, so she changed her mind about the hug and went in for it–
–until she caught a whiff of something she didn't like. "Jeez Dipper, how long have you been wearing that shirt?" She looked at him more closely, and realized that he had sweat stains below his armpits, and vague stains on his shorts too. There was even dirt caked under his fingernails! Dipper shrugged, and she jabbed a finger at his chest. "You better get washed and changed before we go! I don't want Gabe thinking we're a gross family."
"Alright alright, yeesh," he groaned. "Next time you see me, I'll be a new man, scout's honor."
"Good!" she said firmly, before going back to her usual smiles and giggles. "I'll see you there, then!"
Mabel would have hugged him anyway if she wasn't wearing her nicest sweater, and she really didn't want to get 'smelly teen boy stink' on it. So instead, she waved goodbye and flew back down the stairs to rejoin her crew.
(She was pretty sure she broke the record she'd set just a few minutes ago, though if it was because of the second cup of Mabel Juice hitting her, or her excitement at Dipper coming to the show after all, she'd never be able to say.)
When she entered the kitchen, Grenda was trying to convince Candy to help her apply some glittery red lipstick, to Candy's dismay.
"Grenda, I do not think it matches your outfit," she said delicately.
Grenda was wearing a black, long-sleeved turtleneck, with matching pants, just like a backstage assistant was supposed to wear. At least according to all the movies Mabel had seen about theater productions.
"Uh uh!" Grenda said as she turned her head and pointed at her hair tie. "I have some red here! And black goes with everything!"
Mabel couldn't help but barge in. "Don't be a spoilsport Candy, tonight's a night of dreams!" she said, with accompanying wiggles of her fingers for effect.
"Yeah!" Grenda agreed loudly. "And my dream is to have bright red glittery lips." She grumbled. "And besides, you get to dress all bright and pretty."
Candy was wearing a striking suit-skirt combo that looked like it had come right out of a music video from the 80s. It had stripes of turquoise, purple, and mahogany, with pronounced shoulder pads. Her black hair was feathered chaotically at the front, and she'd painted a sparkling lightning bolt on her face in the time Mabel had been talking to Dipper for good measure.
Mabel was honestly pretty jealous, but Candy was going to be on stage a few times doing accompaniment on Soos's keyboard (as well as the occasional narration). And their musical accompaniment needed to look... well... musical!
Candy frowned, which looked a lot less displeased than usual with the paint on her face. "You are supposed to be like a ninja, Grenda. Unseen in the shadows! The world must never know your face!"
"Ninja..." Grenda rumbled, tasting the word and looking down at the lipstick she'd been waving at Candy. "Ninja, ninja, ninja." Her eyes lit up, and she smiled. "I can work with that!" Then she held the lipstick out like it was a knife. "But next time I get to be all glittery too!"
Candy nodded and breathed a sigh of relief as Mabel laughed, which brought Candy's attention back around to her. Her eyes bored into Mabel. "So, Dipper is not mad?"
"Oh he's fine," Mabel said with a dismissive flick of her wrist. "Guess I didn't need to get so worried about it after all!" Which was honestly a massive relief. She hadn't wanted the thought of an angry Dipper hanging over her for the whole show.
Candy nodded slowly. "Well, at least there is that."
"Who cares about a dumb book anyway!" Grenda roared, "What about Gabe?"
Mabel's smile grew into a grin. "Oh, Gabe," she said, clutching at her heart, "Soon you will be mine, you beautiful man."
All three of them giggled excitedly.
It was for him and his beautiful baby blues that they'd gone through a week of hard work and stress, and it was going to be worth it! He was going to sit in the perfect seat, and watch her perfect show, and he was going to think it was perfect! And then they'd hug and kiss and live happily ever after and they'd have a bunch of blue eyed babies and–
Wait.
She'd actually completely forgotten to put the placard up on Gabe's seat!
"Candy, please tell me you put the thing on Gabe's special seat!" Mabel exclaimed, her giggles vanishing in an instant. If he didn't get to sit in the right spot, he might not appreciate the show the way he should!
Candy's eyes widened. "Uhhhhhhhh...no," she said sheepishly as her cheeks reddened. "I was thinking too much about my costume."
Mabel threw her arms up and screamed. "Ah! Code red! This entire operation is in danger!"
Grenda quickly grabbed Mabel by the shoulders. "Get a hold of yourself girl! We can still fix it!"
Grunkle Stan and Soos chose that moment to appear in the kitchen together.
"Fix what?" Soos asked, curious.
"Why are you all standing around in the kitchen?" Grunkle Stan asked, suspicious.
She ignored her grunkle, as she often did. "We forgot to mark Gabe's seat, so he might not get to sit where he's supposed to!" she shouted, waving her arms around frantically to demonstrate just how big a deal it was.
Grunkle Stan frowned and narrowed his eyes. "Do we get special seats?"
Mabel jumped up and down. "We gotta go now, Grunkle Stan! Before they start seating people!"
Grunkle Stan groaned. "Fine fine, I'll get the car started," he said exasperatedly as he turned on his heels and headed for the front door.
(She'd trained him well.)
Soos looked like deer in the headlights. "Do you want us to go too hambone?"
She was about to demand all hands on deck, when she remembered that plans had changed. "Ye– I mean, no! Dipper's changed his mind, so you gotta wait for him, Soos. We can handle it on our own!"
Soos gave her a thumbs up.
"To the Stanmobile!" Mabel bellowed, before she tore out of the kitchen with all of the speed that panic bestowed her. Candy and Grenda scrambled after her.
Grenda once again slammed the door behind them as they left the Shack; Grunkle Stan was only just starting the car as she gripped the handle to pull open the passenger side door, but a holler from high up stopped her.
"Hey! What's the rush?" Wendy's voice called.
Mabel turned and looked up to the roof, where Wendy sat with her feet dangling over the edge. "It's an emergency, we have to get there early!" She yelled back. "Don't let Soos leave without Dipper!"
Wendy looked surprised. "I thought he wasn't coming?" she replied, almost too quiet for Mabel to hear if not for her stellar sense of hearing.
"Change of plans!" She shouted before she waved aggressively. "But we gotta get outta here, see ya Wen-Wen!" With that, Mabel opened the door and jumped into her rightful shotgun seat. She fastened her seatbelt, and immediately leaned over to pat her grunkle on the shoulder annoyingly. "Go go go! Love emergency!"
Her grunkle just shook his head. "Hands and arms inside the vehicle, children," he ordered, as he peeled out of the parking lot and onto the road.
For once, he actually went the speed limit.
Wendy was still staring up the road long after the Stanmobile disappeared behind the trees.
He was coming to the show after all?
Why?
What changed?
Should she be happy?
Or worried?
Sighing, she looked down at her phone to the essay she'd written. She'd given Robbie shit for doing the same thing, and here she was, not even a week later, being just as pathetic. It was all lame and emotional and completely scatterbrained, and she had zero intention of ever sending it to anyone, but at least she'd gotten to think about a few things.
Well, one big thing mostly.
She and Dipper had to talk. About the party, and how it ended. About her kissing him. About how she felt.
Soos was going to take her home right after the show. Tomorrow, she was going to the mall to kill time with her friends. Sunday, assuming he didn't bail on her to work on the password (and with his mood, that was a big assumption), she and Dipper were going to have their movie night, finally. She was going to tell him that she wanted to have it at her place. They'd be alone there, and no one would interrupt them. Then she was going to clear the air.
She'd already planned her whole weekend, but now she wasn't so sure. She wasn't supposed to see Dipper again until Sunday…
The fact that her stomach was feeling all twisted up over the thought of sitting next to a twelve year old at a puppet show for a couple hours made her want to shrivel up and die.
Could she move the talk up? Should she?
Thoughts of the glare he'd shot her in the attic flashed through her mind, and her stomach twisted even more.
No, Sunday was best. Hopefully he'd get a good night's rest between now and then.
"Dude, you up there?" came the voice of Soos from the gift shop below.
"Yeah, I'm here!" she hollered back.
"Make sure you got everything you need! As soon as Dipper's ready, we're outta here!"
"Will do!"
She shut her cell phone and slipped it into her right pocket, taking a deep breath as she did so. Okay. It was just Dipper. She could handle that, couldn't she? She'd fought a shapeshifter for crying out loud!
She climbed down the ladder, only to find that Soos hadn't left the gift shop like she thought he would've. He was behind the counter, fiddling with the cash register while pressing his face up real close to it.
"Don't forget your bike, dude!" Soos said without taking his eyes off of his task.
She'd completely forgotten to take it home yesterday, and she hadn't noticed until she was standing on her porch this morning looking for it. Dad had already left for work, so she'd had to bum a ride to work off of Soos, which she felt bad about. Not that Soos ever minded in the slightest.
"I know, I know," she grumbled, which made him laugh.
Better to do it now before she forgot again.
She exited out of the gift shop, locking the door behind her with the key that she was still surprised Mr. Pines had given her, and then walked around to the back entrance where she kept her bike. Yeah, it wasn't the most valuable piece of equipment (she'd gotten it secondhand), but better to stash it away somewhere there'd be a few less tourists eyeing it up. Fumbling with the cheap lock she used to secure it, she finally managed to wiggle the key exactly the right way it demanded her to.
(She really needed to get a new one, but Mr. Pines didn't exactly pay her the big bucks.)
Hoisting it up with one arm, she walked over to Soos's truck while shielding her face from the sunset with her other hand. A sunburn would just be the cherry on top of the shit sundae for her, and she desperately wanted to avoid that. She deposited her bike gently in the bed of the truck, and locked it back up.
Alright.
Well.
That was the only thing she really had to take care of before they left.
So... time to go inside. And keep pretending like everything was normal. She could keep it up for one more night, couldn't she?
Wendy entered through the front door, which Mabel and her friends had helpfully left unlocked, and tried not to breathe a sigh of relief when she didn't immediately run into Dipper.
Would he even want to talk to her?
Would she, if she were in his place?
She pushed the thoughts aside, and went straight to the living room that was thankfully empty, noting the sound of the faucet running in the bathroom. Settling into Mr. Pines' recliner, she did her best to calm her nerves; she'd been doing it for almost a week already, so she could do it for a little longer.
Once again falling back on Tambry's playbook, she took out her phone. She'd been getting way too into using it as a distraction lately, but dammit, it was the only thing standing between her brain and a meltdown sometimes.
She went to her messages, and was glad to see a message from Tambry (alongside several Robbie messages that she deleted immediately).
'can you believe my mom is seriously trying to get me to go to this stupid puppet show?'
Wendy found herself chuckling, despite her anxieties.
'well, are you coming?'
If Tambry came... maybe she could use her as a buffer. Or maybe she could just go sit with Tambry and her family instead?
Her heart clenched. No. She couldn't do that. Even if Dipper was still... upset with her, she knew him well enough to know that it'd just upset him even more if she ditched him and Soos. It'd be a real jerk thing to do.
Her phone vibrated.
'FUCK no'
Alright, that solved that miniature crisis.
Wendy was about to type out a response when she heard the faucet turn off, and then the bathroom door open. She glued her eyes to her screen and pretended to be reading a message on the off chance that whoever it was came this way.
But the footsteps went up the stairs rather than over to the living room, and they were definitely too light to be Soos's.
She let out a breath, and her eyes finally actually saw the screen again. She typed out a hurried reply.
'your loss dude, I have it on good authority its gonna blow all our minds'
Send.
The sound of Dipper walking around upstairs made her feel jittery, and she dearly hoped she wouldn't be this much of a mess for the rest of the night.
The sound of a cabinet in the kitchen closing gave her the impetus she needed to flee the living room. Safety in numbers!
She slipped her phone back into her pocket and walked a little too quickly over to the kitchen to see what was going on.
As it turned out, Soos was kneeling down rifling through a cabinet below the stove. A pile of chips and soda already sat on the kitchen table, while he tossed up new finds to join them.
Willing herself to feel as cool as she was supposed to, she sauntered in without Soos noticing her. She picked up a red bag of chips and turned it over so she could see the front. She was disappointed to find that it wasn't Doritos after all, but instead a generic brand 'nacho cheese flavored tortilla chip'. She wanted to gripe, but her family always bought generic too.
"Whatcha doin' Soos?" she asked.
"Just getting some supplies ready!" he answered as he continued to burrow through the cabinet like a man-sized mole.
"Supplies?"
"For the show, dude." He threw back a bag of generic Ruffles which landed expertly atop the rest of them. "Theater snack prices are a total ripoff!"
She snorted. Damn right they were!
Soos pulled himself up to his feet and counted the big pile of snacks silently. Satisfied with whatever number he got to in his head, he smiled. "Looks like we got enough for everyone!" He covered his mouth like he was telling a secret. "If there's any you really want, I'll put 'em in my pockets, the rest are going under my shirt," he said with a chuckle.
Wendy appreciated the gesture, because believe it or not she did prefer chips better without sweat all over the bag. She picked out a couple of them plus a Pitt Cola and slid them away from the rest of the pile. "You'll get thrown out if they catch ya," she said, the words coming out a little more patronizing than she meant them to.
"When did you start worrying so much, dude?" Soos said as he stuffed her picks into his huge cargo short pockets with a laugh. "I thought you and your friends did this kinda thing all the time?"
She opened her mouth to make a sarcastic remark in response, but when nothing came, she closed her mouth and scowled. Soos was totally right. She loved breaking rules.
Well, at least she could pinpoint the exact moment she started worrying so much.
After he stuffed as much of his illicit goods into his pockets as he could, Soos retrieved a roll of tape from yet another of his many pockets and held it up to her like it was a treasured artifact. "Behold, the secret weapon!"
"I'm amazed," she said with a smirk.
But then she really was amazed when Soos rolled up his shirt and started taping the chips around his stomach. "Gotta make sure they don't fall!" He said, laughing. "No one's gonna notice a fat guy lookin' a little fatter."
Yeah she was definitely gonna have to tell Thompson about this. It'd come in handy when Woodstick came to town.
She was so entranced by Soos's artistry in taping the snacks to himself that she didn't even notice when they were joined in the kitchen.
"Oooh, 'sup Dipper!" Soos chirped, "Lookin' good dude!"
Wendy's heart skipped a beat as she turned around to face him.
"Thanks Soos," Dipper said with a wide smile. "Just felt like I needed to change things up a bit, y'know?" His eyes met hers. "Whaddaya think?" he asked, gesturing at himself.
He wasn't wearing his jacket for once, and he was wearing pants too, which he almost never did. His dark blue t-shirt proudly bore the name of the Foo Fighters, and honestly…it all looked pretty good on him–
–Her heart leapt into her throat.
It was the same outfit he'd worn to the party, wasn't it?
It had to be.
Dipper smiled despite her failure to reply. He lifted his hat off his head and then put it back on. "Hat? Or no hat?" he asked, as he repeated the removal a few times.
"Hat for sure!" Soos said. "It's like your thing dude, you wouldn't be complete without it!"
Wendy finally found her voice. "Yeah, what Soos said," she said with a not-so-easy chuckle.
Dipper put the hat back on firmly. "Just for you," he replied, chuckling as he held her gaze.
Wendy felt her face warm slightly, but she turned away to hide it from him. She was suddenly very interested in looking out the window, even as she felt Dipper's eyes on the back of her head.
"So, are we ready to go?" Dipper asked from behind her. "We got everything we need?"
"Yeah I think we're good," Soos said, patting his stomach and crinkling a chip bag underneath his shirt. "Let's blow this popsicle stand!"
Wendy nodded, trying and failing to put Dipper's choice of clothing out of mind as she followed Soos's lead out of the kitchen. Dipper followed behind her silently, though from her quick glances back, the smile never left his face.
It had to be a coincidence.
He probably just... didn't have too many 'presentable' clothes that he'd brought with him from back home. How many pairs of jeans did he even have? He pretty much always wore shorts and single color tees!
People wore black and dark colors when they wanted to look presentable, right? That's all it was.
Besides, why would he even do it intentionally?
They exited through the front door and Soos locked it behind them (she didn't have a key to the main entrance herself), while Wendy continued struggling to get herself on sure mental footing.
"You're both gonna have to sit in the back, dudes, I think Mabel forgot to bring in some of her things," Soos said as he unlocked his truck. "And I don't want to get on the bad side of el presidente Mabel by messing with her stuff."
Sure enough, the shotgun seat was overflowing with plastic bags full of things Mabel apparently needed for some new project. Which wasn't a problem at all. She'd sat next to Dipper a bunch of times, and this wasn't any different!
Before she could reach the door, Dipper darted ahead and opened the door for her, his free hand held out to beckon her in. "After you," he said, smiling.
Her cheeks felt hot.
'Play it cool.'
Sarcastic remarks. That's what she needed. That's what she always did!
"Such a gentleman," she said, injecting as much sarcasm as she could and matching his smirk with one of her own. She slid into the backseat, and then scooted across to the far seat to allow Dipper to squeeze in afterward, which he promptly did.
She fastened her seatbelt while Dipper struggled with his. Not that she was watching too closely.
Soos started the engine. "Belts on?" he called out as the AC rumbled to life.
"You know it, dude." She'd gotten plenty used to Soos always checking to make sure.
"Uh... huh!" Dipper grunted triumphantly as he finally clicked it secure.
"Then we're outta here!"
He turned on the radio, and thankfully it wasn't the worst song of the summer.
Dipper laughed at something as they started moving, which drew her eyes to him immediately. But he was looking outside the window, and she couldn't make out anything unusual. Just trees rolling by.
This close, she realized that his hair was a bit damp. That must've been why the faucet was running so long; he was washing his hair in the bathroom sink.
Dipper turned to face her abruptly, catching her in the act of staring at him. "Something on my face?" he asked with a playful smile.
Wendy felt her cheeks heat up again, but she didn't look away this time. "You're just– you're looking a lot better than earlier, that's all," she managed to say after a moment.
It was true. The bags under his eyes weren't quite as dark as they'd been since she last saw him a few hours ago. He looked more awake, more alert. And he seemed much more chipper, too.
Dipper's expression softened, and he lowered his voice. "I didn't mean to bite your head off earlier... I just wasn't really feeling myself. I'm sorry."
"It's alright, dude," she said almost automatically. It definitely... hurt for him to snap at her like he had, but friends got mad at each other sometimes, didn't they? Her friends did, and they always made up. "Did you take a power nap?"
Dipper blew air out his nose. "Nah, I finally got into the laptop, and talk about a weight off the mind."
Wendy's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, really? What was the password?"
Dipper leaned over and looked around for any eavesdroppers. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you," he whispered theatrically.
"Yeah whatever dude." Wendy rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. "So why'd you decide to come after all?"
Shrugging, Dipper looked away from her as the grin fell from his face, and turned his gaze back to the scenery outside his window. "I just decided I didn't want to miss it, I guess."
Wendy stared for a moment, expecting him to elaborate, but he didn't say anything else. Her own smile fell, and she clenched her fist as she tried to think of something to say.
But they lapsed into silence, while Wendy watched him watch the trees pass them by.
Soon enough the trees gave way to the bricks and mortar of main street, and neither of them had said anything more. Soos drummed out the rhythms of whatever was playing on the radio on his steering wheel the whole way, and eventually, the AC even started blowing cool air.
As they neared the Theatre Time Theater, they ran into a bit of traffic as they looked for a parking spot.
"Wow!" Soos exclaimed, as he pointed at the long line of people outside the ticket booth. "I didn't realize there were so many sock puppet fans in Gravity Falls!"
They wound up having to park a bit of a ways down the road, because the theater's parking lot was completely packed. Wendy stepped out of the truck and stretched her legs, trying hard not to steal a glance at Dipper as he lingered in the back seat. Soos patted himself down to verify that all of their illegal snacks were still there, and then, as soon as Dipper left the truck, he locked it up.
"I hope they saved us some seats," Wendy griped as they walked the short distance up main street to the theater. She griped about things, right? "Looks like half the town is here."
When they made it to the theater and got in line, they were stuck behind a very tired looking mom and her gaggle of rowdy children. Though she felt a pang of sympathy as she watched the woman try to wrangle them into obedience, she couldn't help but hope they wouldn't end up sitting next to a bunch of kids.
She snuck a glance at Dipper, and saw that he was watching the kids too.
What Soos had said earlier wasn't wrong. Dipper really did look... nice. The darker colors made him seem more mature, while his hat kept him feeling like Dipper Pines, paranormal investigator extraordinaire.
(She'd noticed it the night of the party too.)
Dipper turned his head, and she averted her eyes, trying fruitlessly to smother her thoughts.
"How tall do you think that is?" Dipper asked suddenly.
She looked back to him, and saw that he was pointing up at the water tower on the edge of town. Robbie's graffiti was still visible even from this distance… but Dipper had been right all those weeks ago. It really did look a lot more like a muffin than an explosion.
"The water tower?"
Dipper nodded, his eyes still locked onto it.
"Probably at least a hundred feet or so, right Soos?"
"Sounds about right to me, dude," Soos said with a chuckle. "I'm just a repairman!"
Dipper barely seemed to notice that Soos had said anything. "It'd be a real nice view from up top, don't ya think?" he asked, his voice low and contemplative.
But before she could give him an answer, they were interrupted by a loud and hoarse yelling.
"Guys! You don't belong in line, you're VIPs!"
The human bulldozer that was Grenda barreled up to them with a ferocity that would frighten a freight train, and did frighten the kids they were standing behind. She was waving a bundle of tickets in her hand like they were deadly weapons.
"Oooh, nice getup," Wendy said appreciatively, admiring her almost all black clothing. "Like a ninja, I dig it."
Grenda beamed. "I wanted to wear a headband too, but we didn't have any." She handed each of them a ticket and straightened her back authoritatively. "Let's get you guys outta here! Your special seats are waiting for you."
They followed Grenda away from the ticket line. As they walked she snuck a glance at Dipper out of the corner of her eye. For a second she thought he was scowling, but the next time she looked, he had an easy smile on his face.
They made their way into and through the lobby, where posters for upcoming productions lined the walls. Nothing stood out to her as particularly interesting, but Soos pointed out a few that caught his eye.
"Sweet! They're gonna do a musical rendition of Pac-Man! I wonder how they got the rights?"
Wendy could only shrug. "Probably didn't."
It wasn't long before Grenda ushered them into the theater proper, where they were immediately greeted by the dull roar of the already seated attendees talking up a storm as they waited. Man. Half the town might actually be here tonight.
She'd been there just last night when she was helping Soos set stuff up, but seeing it packed like this was something else. And all for a show that she'd helped make happen.
She couldn't deny that it felt pretty wild.
Grenda led them closer to the stage, stopping three rows back from the front.
"You guys are up over there! By Mr. Pines!" Grenda shouted triumphantly as she pointed at a very bored looking Stanford Pines. "You can see the whole stage, but you're still close to the action!"
Grenda's shouting drew her boss's attention over to them. He grinned and waved them over. "Hurry up Soos, I'm starvin'!"
"Enjoy the show! " Grenda said, before she hurried off in the direction of the stage.
Soos took the initiative and went first. "I've got the snacks, so I should be in the middle!" he said while squeezing between the rows. The chip bags under his shirt crinkled against the row in front of them as he tried to avoid bumping into the people who were already sitting, but luckily whatever theater staff were around didn't seem to notice.
Wendy went after him, but she had a much easier time of not stepping on anyone's feet. Perks of being lanky.
Dipper followed behind her, but seemed to have a hard time not stepping on peoples' feet. She briefly thought about reaching out to steady him, but memories of earlier ("I said I'm fine") paralyzed her.
They both got in their seats in one piece, however, and as soon as they did, Soos was tossing them snacks.
Wendy opened her bag of off-brand Doritos gently so as to not attract attention, but found that as she munched on a chip, she wasn't feeling particularly hungry after all.
Maybe it was because her stomach was starting to turn again.
She looked aside at Dipper.
He was ignoring the chips and soda she'd passed along to him, and instead looking up above the stage.
Following his gaze, she didn't see anything that looked out of place…
"Hey, Dipper!" called Mr. Pines from the other side of Soos. "Glad to see ya in the land of the living!"
Dipper took a second to react, but when he did, he turned to his great uncle and grinned. "C'mon, I wouldn't miss this for the world!"
Mr. Pines snorted. "Never woulda heard the end of it if you didn't end up comin'."
Dipper laughed, and then shifted in his seat until he sat a bit taller and straighter. "Man, these aren't very comfortable, are they?" he grumbled.
Again, she held her tongue, the words that had always come so easily between the two of them completely failing her. She forced a smile.
Just a pair of friends going to a puppet show.
He wasn't mad at her, and he'd even apologized.
So why was she feeling so anxious?
(She hated that she could pretend to not know the reason.)
"I think I'd like to have our movie night at my place," she said after a prolonged silence. She chuckled, but she didn't feel it. "I feel like I've barely been home at all lately, and my dad's getting tired of handling dinner."
Dipper smiled up at her. "I should be able to make it."
She smirked half-heartedly, even as she felt a tightness in her chest.
Sunday it was, then. She'd finally say what she should've said days ago.
Just one more normal night.
Was it going to be their last one?
More and more people slowly filtered into the theater until it was well and truly full. She even saw the mom they'd briefly stood behind, mostly because her kids were running up and down the aisle, to her obvious horror. Wendy searched for faces she knew from school, but few of her fellow teens seem to have been in the mood for a puppet show. A golden ponytail she recognized was in the next row up, sitting smack dab in the middle of it.
Dipper quietly looked around too, but neither of them made an attempt at conversation.
She knew that if things were really fine, they'd be chatting nonstop. They'd complain about their snacks, or grumble about the kids making too much noise. They'd be wondering if Mabel was really going to pull it off. Dipper would be asking what she was going to be up to tomorrow, and she'd ask him what the next step was now that he'd gotten into the laptop.
But they didn't..
Instead, she listened to Mr. Pines gripe about 'kids these days', and tried to keep her eyes pointed anywhere but at the boy she was sitting next to.
Eventually the lights finally dimmed, but it didn't bring her much comfort. The chatter of the audience slowly quieted. The bright lights of cell phones disappeared into pockets and purses. For a moment, there was stillness.
Mabel peaked her head out from behind the curtains for an instant, then disappeared as quickly as she'd appeared.
A few seconds later, the curtains parted and the crowd applauded.
The Mystery Shack she and Soos had set up last night stood proudly at the end of the stage, glittering in the spotlights.
("Why is it purple?" she heard Mr. Pines complain.)
A log sat in front of the Shack, and cartoonish trees surrounded the whole set. Rainbows and stars hung from the rafters. Candy, standing atop a platform with wheels, stood at the ready with her keyboard, a somber expression on her face despite the bright colors of her outfit.
The applause slowly fell away, and Candy's eyes opened.
"Gather round, and let us sing," Candy sang, "about a girl who had almost everything."
The platform was pulled backwards, hiding Candy from view, and then one of the Shack's windows flung open to reveal Puppet Dipper.
"Look, it's Mabel!" sang Puppet Dipper.
Puppet Mabel popped up from behind the log. "Hi there!"
"Did you say stable?" Soos's puppet sang as he erupted out of another window in the Shack.
Mr. Pines' puppet popped up beside Puppet Mabel. "No, he said Mabel!"
Puppet Mabel faced the crowd. "Okay, hit it boys!"
The backing music kicked in, and the puppets all re-appeared together above the log before erupting into song.
The song they sang was… completely ridiculous.
But Mabel sang with so much energy that Wendy couldn't help but smile, if only for a moment. The crowd seemed to be enjoying it too, despite– or maybe because of– the absurdity of Mabel's lyrics.
And Dipper–
–no.
'Keep your eyes to yourself. Focus on the show.'
The first song gave way to the second, and it took all of Wendy's willpower to keep her eyes on the puppets and their singing, and not to think of the boy she was sitting beside. To not think about how messed up she was.
When the third song began, she finally looked over at him. He'd taken off his hat at some point. For half a heartbeat, she wanted to ask him why, but then he shifted in his seat and she was jerking her gaze back to the puppet show.
During the fourth song, his shoulder bumped into hers.
She tensed at the contact and glanced over–
–but he was just opening his drink.
By the fifth song (was it the fifth?) she was stealing looks at him every time the chorus came up.
What was he thinking about?
Was he having a good time?
Was he really still mad at her? Or was he just pretending for Mabel's sake?
A part of her wanted to ask, but every time she thought she had the guts to say something, her words died on her lips.
The puppets danced and sang, and the music that Mabel had spent a week making filled the theater. Kids laughed and cheered. Grenda scurried onto the stage to swap out sets, and Candy played a mean keyboard the whole way.
Memories from the last week filled her mind. Every little awkward moment between them since she'd picked him up last Saturday played in her head in crystal clear quality.
Why had she invited him to Sandra's party?
Was it really just to have someone to go with? Or had all this been buried in the back of her mind all along?
No, she couldn't have.
She was fifteen, and he was... just a kid.
She'd just– she'd wanted to show him that they were still friends. Even though she'd rejected him. That was all, right?
Wendy lost track of how many songs had come and gone. She laughed and clapped when the crowd did, but she felt none of it; she couldn't have quoted more than a line from the show if she tried. She scarcely noticed when the alien invasion that marked the midway point began.
Instead, she was glancing over at the boy she'd gotten drunk and kissed.
The same boy whose heart she knew she'd have to break again.
Puppet Mabel was delivering a stirring confession of her love to Puppet Gabe when she looked over again. Only, this time, Dipper's eyes were waiting for hers.
He leaned over slightly, his shoulder bumping into hers once again. "I can tell when you're looking at me," he whispered, his voice low and his eyes piercing.
Wendy froze. Her heart pounded in her chest.
"I'm sorry," she whispered back.
Dipper only smiled. "What for?"
But she couldn't answer, because she was sorry for everything. Sorry for not shutting him down earlier, and letting him think he might have a chance. For kissing him. For ruining their friendship. For feeling the way she did now, after everything.
The audience erupting into cheers saved her from having to answer immediately. The curtains closed as Puppet Gabe battled the Octopoid alien, while smoke from the smoke machine billowed out and the lights came back on.
Grenda's voice roared over the intercom, "Our intermission has begun! Mill about!"
Dipper was still looking at her as the crowd began to chatter and get up from their seats, but she still didn't have an answer.
In the end, he spoke first.
"I'll be right back, alright?" Dipper said softly. Then, before she could process the question, he was already rising from his seat.
His hand brushed the bare skin of her thigh as he stood up, his fingers like ice. Shivers shot down her spine, and she found she could only stare.
"Wait for me," he said, his eyes burning.
Anything she might have said caught in her throat as she watched Dipper retreat down the aisle.
Mabel took a long, deep breath.
Halfway done, and everything was going wonderfully!
She'd nailed all her musical numbers, and all the tech and special effects were working exactly the way they did in practice. She couldn't have asked for things to go any better!
That said, it was still pretty exhausting. Even with all the Mabel Juice flowing through her veins, she was pretty dang sure she'd be conking out the second her face hit her pillow tonight. But she couldn't get ahead of herself! There was still the ending to pull off!
More than a little sore from an hour and a half of strenuous puppeteering, Mabel took a second to stretch out her back and shoulders before she made her way offstage. They had twenty minutes of intermission, but that was more than enough time for her to catch a breather. Especially because they'd made sure there was only going to be a minimal change to the set before the second half started.
Mabel wasn't even halfway to the dressing room when Grenda appeared in front of her with a rather concerning frown on her face.
"That doesn't look like the face of someone who just brought dreams to life!" Mabel said, smiling widely. "We did great!"
But Grenda only shook her head. "Bad news," she said, her fist clenching fiercely. "My cousin chickened out."
Mabel's heart dropped. Oh no. That wasn't good at all!
"But he only had like two lines! He just needed to officiate the wedding at the end!" Mabel exclaimed. They'd gotten him the reverend outfit and everything!
Grenda made an angry noise. "He's gonna learn the meaning of pain the next time I see him," she said as she pounded her first into her palm.
As much as she didn't want to be Grenda's cousin all of a sudden, Mabel had far worse things to worry about. The wedding scene was the finale! It wouldn't be the same without a real reverend!
Candy was playing keyboard for the big moments, and Grenda wouldn't fit in the clothes they'd gotten for the role... Of course she couldn't do it herself, as much as she'd love to be in two places at once...
Oh!
Grenda was still grumbling threateningly when Mabel grabbed her punching arm and grinned. "Don't worry about it, I got it taken care of! Just make sure you get the set ready for the end of the fight scene, and I'll be right back with our replacement!"
Grenda looked skeptical, but Mabel gave her a great big reassuring pat on the back before she took off toward her new destination.
She just had to find her brother as quickly as possible and get him changed into the reverend costume! Sure, she'd already delayed his whole "quest for the author" thing this week (not that he'd needed her help in the end anyway), and yeah, he was only just now looking happy to see her again, but surely he'd know how important this all was to her! It was life or death!
Actually, it was worse.
It was love or death!
She tore through the backstage, dodging bits of set and hopping over stray cables as she made her way toward the seating area. She was so intent on finding him that she almost missed a familiar mess of dark brown hair as she passed him in the hall.
"Dipper!" She yelped as she turned on her heel. "What are you doing back here? And what happened to your hat!"
Dipper, who wasn't wearing his hat for some reason, stopped abruptly and turned to face her. "Oh hey! I told you I'd be a new man the next time you saw me, didn't I?" he answered with a grin as he walked back to meet her. "And I was looking for you of course!" He patted her hard on the shoulder. "Show's going great!"
He wasn't wearing his usual get-up at all, so it was no wonder she didn't notice him at first; he could've been any random tween who was exactly one millimeter shorter than her!
But she didn't have time to admire his newfound fashion sense, or to accept his very warranted congratulations. There was an emergency! She turned on her puppy dog eyes, and adopted her most apologetic of tones. "Dipper, I'm really sorry to bother you, but Grenda's lame-o cousin didn't show up, so we're down a reverend..." She made her puppy dog eyes even puppier. "The costume's your size, and it's only a couple lines and–"
"–Sure!"
Mabel gaped, surprised. "Wait, what? You'll do it? Really?"
Dipper shrugged. "I'm already here, aren't I? Besides, the only thing better than watching a show is being part of one!" He said with a laugh.
Wow, that went a whole lot more easily than she'd expected it to. He must have been super happy to get into that laptop after all!
But there wasn't time to be surprised either!
"Alright, come with me if you want to live!" She ordered as she grabbed his hand, only to let it go of it in surprise. "Jeez, your hands are freezing!" She admonished, before grabbing his hand again and yanking him down the hall.
Dipper just laughed again as she pulled him along. "Must be because I haven't slept too much. Lack of sleep'll do that to ya. Hormones and all that."
That sounded about right to her, but still, talk about an ice box!
She pulled him down the halls until they got to the men's dressing room, at which point she finally released him. "You're the only guy in this production, so you'll have the whole room to yourself! The costume should fit you just fine, so get it on, and then wait for Grenda to come get you later. You're right at the end!"
"What about my lines?" Dipper asked with a smirk. "I kinda need those, don't I?"
Mabel waved her hand. "Don't worry about that, bro-bro, it's just a couple lines, and we wrote 'em on a piece of paper and stuck it in the journal. So you'll just open the journal up, read your lines, and officiate the wedding! Easy peasy!"
Dipper nodded thoughtfully. "But the journal's in the rafters, right? How do I get it?"
"It's in a big wedding cake," she said as she pointed up, even though she was pretty sure she wasn't pointing in the right direction. "We'll lower it right before the wedding scene, then you can grab it outta there and do what ya gotta do!"
"Got it. You can count on me!" Dipper said, grinning. "Sorry if I end up stealing the show, though. I don't think the world's prepared for my big debut."
"Oh psshhhh. I'd like to see you try!" She replied with a giggle. "Alright, I'll be right next door if you need me. Go get dressed!"
Dipper gave her a thumbs up, and disappeared into the men's dressing room, and Mabel did exactly like she said she would and entered the women's dressing room next door.
(The star decoration on the door of the dressing room made her feel even more amazing.)
Crisis successfully averted, Mabel went straight for the water fountain and drank as much as she could that wouldn't end up making her have to use the bathroom before the show was over. Her voice had been getting more than a little strained by the end of the first half, and she was totally parched, but having to break up the second half by leaving for a bathroom break would be a total disaster.
Once she was properly hydrated, she took a seat on the stool in front of the mirror, took a deep breath, and gazed at herself in the mirror.
She could see how tired she was, but dangit she was still raring and ready to go for more! The finish line was in sight!
But... maybe a little makeup touch-up wouldn't hurt.
Just in case!
Mabel scanned the room for a drawer that looked halfway appealing (namely because it had a label that read 'makeup') and then immediately rocketed toward it. Tearing open the drawer, she rummaged through it like a hungry racoon in a trash bin. Just had to find the right piece of trash!
She found several that looked like they'd be possible candidates, but was just about to give 'em a test run when she heard a strong knock at the door.
Mabel froze, then quickly collected herself. "Be right there!" She called as she tore her arm out of the drawer and dusted it off. It was probably just Dipper needing help with his costume.
The knock sounded again, and she was about to make a smart comment when she opened the door and saw the last person she expected.
"Gabe!" She exclaimed, before she toned herself down. "What are you doing back here?"
Gabe's big blue eyes shined at her, and she felt herself swoon internally. "Oh, Candy let me in," he said with a handsome chuckle. "Do you have a moment?"
For him she had a thousand moments!
But she knew girls had to play at least a little coy.
"Sure," she said evenly, even though she was bursting at the seams. "How can I help you?"
(She'd seen him in the crowd already, but she still couldn't believe he'd worn an actual suit to her show. It was so romantic it made her want to die.)
A charming smile burst to life on Gabe's beautiful chiseled face. "Mabel, I just wanted to say that you've really impressed me. Your passion for puppets is obvious to anyone with eyes, and I can't wait to see how you end it."
Mabel felt her cheeks flush as her heart started beating faster. "Well I'm glad I could impress Puppet-Crazy Gabe after all," she replied, hoping it wasn't a step slightly too far.
But Gabe only laughed, and reached inside the pocket of his suit jacket. When he pulled his hand out, he was holding a single red rose. "For you," he said, offering it to her gently. "I think you've earned it."
Mabel accepted it gingerly, feeling like she was melting into a pile of goo the whole time. "Ohmygosh, thank you," she whispered as she held the rose up and admired it.
"My pleasure," Gabe replied softly. "...Do you think you'll be free tomorrow night?"
Would she!
"I think so," she said with a small, shakey smile. "Did you have something in mind?"
But now it was his turn to play coy. "We can work it out after the show," he said dreamily. Then, he waved, and lowered his voice slightly. "I'll be waiting."
With that, the man of her dreams turned around and walked back toward the audience seating area. She watched his beautiful golden ponytail swish into the distance, clutching the rose to her chest tightly despite its thorns.
Mabel couldn't help the dreamy sigh that left her lips as Gabe escaped her sight. Tearing her eyes away from the lack of Gabe, she closed the door behind her, and then slid down to the ground.
Resting her back against the door, she held the rose up to her nose, and inhaled. Its sweet fragrance was so beautiful...
Today was really shaping up to be one of the greatest days of her life, just like she'd known it would be.
She was still gazing at her rose when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye.
A puppet tumbled from the small pile of spares that they'd stashed in the dressing room. It was Puppet Dipper Mark 1, a puppet she'd only brought in case something happened to Mark 2. Mabel stared, suspicious.
Then, slowly, the puppet rose into the air.
"Mabel," it said in a thin, hollow voice.
Mabel screamed and sprang to her feet. "Evil puppet!" she shouted, brandishing her rose like it was a sword. She hadn't even used a ouija board like in those movies! "I don't know what I did wrong but you better leave me alone!"
Of course something like this would happen on this night of all nights. It was going too well!
Puppet Dipper flailed his noodly arms. "Mabel!" it said vehemently, "it's me! It's Dipper! You have to help me!"
She frowned incredulously and didn't lower her rose. She knew these sorts of monsters loved to play tricks on people. She wasn't stupid. "Dipper? But I just saw you! You're right next door!" He was getting changed into the reverend costume!
The puppet shook violently. "That's not me! It's Bill! He stole my body, and he's trying to destroy the journal! You have to stop him!"
"Bill?" she asked with a quirked eyebrow, lowering her rose ever so slightly. "Bill Cipher? Dorito man, dream powers, tried to ruin Grunkle Stan's mind? We defeated him!"
The puppet nodded frantically, its googly eyes looking every which way. "He's back," the voice gasped, its voice breaking. "He– he showed up in my dreams a couple nights ago. I didn't tell you because I thought you wouldn't take me seriously and… I was still mad at you."
It... It really was Dipper's voice, wasn't it?
Fainter and harder to hear... but it was his voice.
Her heartbeat started to pick up pace again as everything started sliding into place. Dipper's easy acceptance of her apology... his abrupt change in mood... how willing he was to join the show...
None of that was really like him, was it?
"He tricked me," Dipper's voice continued, "and he took my body. It's my fault Mabel, I'm sorry." The puppet hovered more closely to her, close enough that she could count the bad stitches on it. "You have to stop him and get the journal, or else I–" he choked, " –I might be stuck in the Mindscape forever. "
"Like a ghost?" she asked, dreading the answer.
Puppet Dipper stared at her for a long moment. "Yeah, like a ghost."
Mabel set the rose down on the stool she'd briefly sat on, and then clenched her fists hard. "Okay!" She said resolutely. "I'll save the journal, and I'll get your body back! Is there like, a spell, in there, or something? Something I can use to kick him out?"
"The same one we used to get him out of Grunkle Stan's mind should work. Hurry Mabel, please! I'll be nearby, but you won't be able to see me. As soon as you get him out, I'll jump back in!"
She nodded, and then the puppet fell to the ground like its strings had been cut. Its googly eyes were looking right at her.
Mabel's heart pounded in her chest as she left the dressing room behind. She sprinted over to the neighboring men's dressing room and threw the door open without a care in the world, but "Dipper" wasn't there like she'd asked him to be. The room was completely empty.
She quickly scanned the room, and saw that the reverend costume was gone, and that Dipper's old clothes were thrown haphazardly on the ground.
(Which the real Dipper did too, to be fair.)
Shutting the door with almost as much force as she'd opened it, Mabel resumed her sprint down the hall
There couldn't be much time left before the intermission was over, but she could get this all fixed up in time, couldn't she? They'd already beaten this guy once, and now he was stuck in Dipper's body! That meant no dream powers at least, right?
She briefly considered asking ghost Dipper if he could run the show for her if she took too long, but his voice didn't seem to project too far with the one puppet. She couldn't imagine him trying to control several puppets at , he didn't quite have her singing talent even at the best of times. And this wasn't the best of times.
The thought of Dipper as a ghost put some extra speed in her steps.
Everything would be fine. It always was.
She passed a pair of light technicians but paid them little mind, though she almost tripped over a rather inconveniently placed power cord as she skirted around them.
She knew his goal: the journal. That meant she just had to get up onto the catwalk and grab it before he could get there. Dipper had never been to the theater before today (did he have Dipper's memories anyway?), so he was way more lost back here than she was.
Though, in all honesty, she was a little lost.
She debated turning back around and asking the technicians where the ladder up to the catwalk was, but instead kept moving. She'd see something familiar soon!
She kept an eye out for even a trace of that reverend costume, but when she finally spied a black blur, it was far too large to be Dipper (Bill? Bill-Dipper?).
"Grenda!" She yelped as she skidded to a halt.
Grenda turned around, her eyes widening in surprise. "Mabel? What are you doing back here? Intermission's almost over girlfriend!"
Mabel jogged in place. "I know, I know! You gotta go tell them something came up! I'll be there as soon as I can! Have you seen Dipper?"
It took Grenda a second to process both her request and her abrupt change in topic, but then she frowned fiercely. "Yeah! He was just bugging me about the journal but I told him to hold his horses!"
Mabel's heart skipped a beat. "The journal? Where'd he go?"
Grenda shrugged. "He kinda just wandered off and mumbled under his breath the way he always does!" She broke into a grin. "He looked pretty snazzy in that costume though! Meow!"
Mabel did her best to ignore that last bit. "How do I get up onto the catwalk?"
Grenda looked at her quizzically, but then gestured a big hand down the way she'd been going. "Two lefts and then a right, I think? Is everything–"
"–Thanks, bye!" Mabel cut her off, already resuming her sprint down the halls in the direction Grenda pointed. "Delay the second half!" She shouted as she rounded the corner.
Things would be fine!
Just had to beat Bill-Dipper (Bipper?) to the journal, and then Dipper was saved, and she could finish her show and everything would be great!
(She definitely wasn't thinking about Dipper being stuck in the mindscape forever. Not at all!)
Mabel took exactly the route Grenda suggested, and, despite numerous near trips in her rush to get there, she did indeed find the ladder.
She scrambled up it in a frenzy, nearly losing her grip more than once.
(Dipper was going to be fine!)
As she cleared the final rung and pulled herself up onto the catwalk, Mabel couldn't help the shuddering sigh of relief that escaped her at the sight that greeted her. The catwalk was empty. The huge wedding cake prop was right where they'd left it.
Up here, she could hear the hum of the audience as they waited for the intermission to end. But she couldn't think about her show, because she had a brother to save!
She took a step forward, and, for half a heartbeat, she felt a tinge of nervousness at how high up she was. Then she remembered that she'd been up higher a bajillion times and squashed the nervousness like a bug.
Mabel quickly made her way across the catwalk and toward the wedding cake, looking for any sign of Bipper (that was a good name) as she went. As she approached the cake, she slowed down, suddenly wary of the possibility that he was hiding on the inside of it.
She peeked over the rails cautiously–
–and the journal was still there!
It sat on the inside of the cake prop, just like it was supposed to!
She leaned over the rail, reaching for it with outstretched fingers, but pulled back with a groan. She couldn't quite cut it. She was taller than Dipper, but only by a little bit, and her arms were too dang short for this! She'd have to climb over and into the cake to get it.
It'd been their original plan to lower the reverend to the stage in the cake, but the theater staff had nixed that plan. They said the cake prop was way too rickety for something as 'risky' as that.
Mabel bit her lip. She needed that journal and she needed it now.
She eyed the ropes that were tied the cake steady to the railing. Grabbing them, she pulled, testing the strength of the knot. It... seemed secure, right?
No, she couldn't be a wimp about this! It was "Mystery Twins" not "Mystery Mabel"!
Taking a deep breath, she first swung one leg over the rail, and then the other, holding tight to the railing as she did so. Second guessing herself briefly, she tried to just reach over and grab the journal while hanging from the edge, but still, no dice.
Alright! No two ways about it!
Mabel took an even deeper breath, and, resisting the urge to close her eyes, pushed off from the railing and landed on the inside of the prop cake, accidentally stepping on the journal as she landed.
She whooped in victory as the ropes held and the cake didn't careen to the stage below. Scooping up the journal, she couldn't fight the grin that erupted on her face. Easy peasy!
For a second she thought about flipping open the journal and finding the page about Mr. Dorito and how to deal with him, but common sense prevailed. So she held it tight against her, and turned around to hop back onto the catwalk before something happened and the ropes gave out. With the journal in hand though it was a bit tougher to get a solid grip on the rail.
(She found herself wishing she'd brought her grappling hook.)
Mabel realized her common sense wasn't quite as good as she thought when she remembered she could just toss the journal over to the catwalk and then hop over with both hands. Which she promptly did.
The journal flopped safely onto the catwalk, and so Mabel followed it back over, though getting from the prop cake to the rails proved a bit harder than the reverse. Still, years of climbing anything she could get her grubby paws on proved useful, and she managed to get across without plummeting to an untimely death.
(Not that she ever had any doubts!)
She was picking the journal up off the catwalk floor and preparing a victory song in her head when she realized that she wasn't alone anymore.
Standing at the other end of the catwalk, right in front of the ladder, was Bipper.
His cold gaze was out of sync with his wide grin.
His reverend costume suddenly didn't look as cute as she thought it would.
"Y'know Shooting Star," he said, his voice thick with sarcasm, "I had half a mind to keep up the whole charade. Pretend like I was the real deal, get you to give me the journal, yadda yadda." He took a heavy step forward. "But I think I've had my fill of fakery for one night."
Mabel clutched the journal to her chest, and quickly looked behind her to see if there was another ladder down.
There wasn't. The other end of the catwalk stopped at the wall. A dead end.
"See, it gets pretty tiring being someone you're not." He laughed, and it looked completely wrong on Dipper's face. His lips were pulled too wide, his teeth too prominent. "Not that I tried very hard, to be honest. But you kids! Just give 'em what they want, or hell, give 'em what they don't want, and boom! They're like puppets!" He wiggled his fingers in front of his face, as his grin somehow widened even more. "And I'm the puppet master."
She grit her teeth, trying and failing to ignore the sting of his words. "Give Dipper back his body!"
Bipper took another step forward as his expression twisted with annoyance. "Dipper, Dipper, Dipper! I swear, he's all you kids are thinking about these days!" He laughed again, this time even more venomously. "Still didn't stop any of you from missing the obvious."
Mabel's heart raced as Bipper continued to advance across the catwalk. She stepped further back with each step he took, and, opening the journal, she began to tear through it looking for the picture of the golden triangle she knew was in there.
"Oh, Mabel," Bipper drawled, saying her name like he cared about her at all, "I don't think that's gonna help you much. Once the body's mine, it's too late to kick me out. And believe me, this body's mine."
Mabel forced herself to ignore him, and continued to flip through the pages. They'd gotten him out of Grunkle Stan's mind hadn't they?
Gremoblins... Manotaurs... Bill Cipher!
She tried to read the pages smeared in red, but her brain was racing too fast; the words were barely registering at all. There was a spell here, right? But...
Bipper was close to her now. Dipper's body didn't seem much shorter than her at all anymore.
"Unless you've got some candles in that sweater of yours, you can't get me out…" He extended a hand and waved his fingers. "...So why not just give it here? No one's gotta get hurt."
Mabel swallowed hard, her fingers clutching the journal tightly even as her hands began to shake. She'd completely forgotten about the candles, and so had Dipper. The real one.
But she had to try.
"Videntis Omnium," she read quickly, "Magister Mentium–"
"–I just told you, it's not gonna work–."
"–Magnesium Ad Hominem. Magnum Opus–"
Her back slammed into the wall at the far end of the catwalk, and Bipper was getting closer. Too close.
(His eyes weren't Dipper's anymore. They were glowing bright yellow, and his pupils were thin slits.)
"–Habeas Corpus–"
"–You're not listening, Shooting Star, it won't work!" Bipper jeered, as he broke into sneering laughter.
But he stopped in his tracks just a few feet from her, and his expression smoothed into a gentle smile. He held out his hand again. "Just hand it over," he said quietly, his golden eyes boring into her own, "and then you can continue your little show. " He smirked. "You can go get that blondie of yours you like so much."
Mabel bristled, and any thought of continuing the pointless spell vanished from her mind. "I'd never betray Dipper! That's his body, and you're going to give it back!"
Bipper's smirk became sickening. It was completely alien on Dipper's face. "Never betray your brother? Really? That's not how he sees it, girlie, lemme tell ya. It's not like you cared enough to help him crack the code with that laptop! Too busy with your little sock puppets!" He chuckled briefly. "But don't worry, I took care of that for ya. So just give me the journal, and I can get outta your pretty hair."
"You're wrong," she spat. "Dipper doesn't think like that at all."
But the words rang hollow. Even to herself.
She had abandoned him this week, hadn't she?
Bipper's gaze hardened. "You're making this harder than it needs to be," he growled as he stomped closer.
Five feet.
(She couldn't give it to him.)
Four feet.
(Could she just run past him?)
Three feet.
(The catwalk was too narrow.)
Two feet.
(She had to do something!)
One foot.
And with a gasp of determination, she leaned over the railing–
–Bipper lunged at her–
–and threw the journal to the stage below.
Mabel didn't have time to see if it had landed safely as Bipper all but crashed into her, pinning her against the wall with one arm and grabbing her wrist with the other. Growling, she tried to headbutt him, but he backed up just enough to dodge without releasing her.
Dipper's face was smiling at her, his yellow eyes gleaming with glee despite the loss of the journal. "I like you," he purred, "almost enough to kiss you."
She recoiled, but he leaned in closer.
"Bet you'd never forget it," he continued, his eyes narrowing cruelly and his grip on her wrist tightening painfully, "bet it'd be hard to ever look at your brother again, wouldn't it?"
Feeling bile rise in the back of her throat, Mabel did the one thing she'd always been told to do if she ended up in a situation anything close to this.
She kicked him. Hard. Right between the legs.
Dipper's body crumpled, and, not wasting a moment, she yanked her wrist free from his grip and pushed past him violently. Bipper fell to the floor of the catwalk, coughing and gasping, while Mabel retreated closer to the ladder.
Slowly, his pained gasping gave way to low laughter, and Mabel couldn't help but stop and turn around, even as her brain screamed at her to go down the ladder and get some help. But Bill laughing couldn't be a good thing.
Bipper rose to his feet shakily, still laughing weakly. The glow of his eyes had faded slightly, but his smirk never left his face. "Ooh, feisty," he said as he wiped a tear from his eye. "Playing hard to get must run in the family."
Mabel clenched her fists so tightly that she felt herself break the skin.
She'd had enough of this.
"Shut your mouth you stupid triangle!" Mabel yelled at him. "I'm stronger and faster than Dipper, even on a good day, and he's barely slept this week! I'm gonna find Grunkle Stan, and we're gonna pull you outta there whether you like it or not, and you won't be able to stop us!"
But any response Bill had on Dipper's lips was stopped by the sudden opening of the curtains on the stage below. The audience couldn't see either of them, she knew, but it meant she couldn't run down to the stage and grab the journal without making a scene.
She'd told Grenda to extend the intermission, damn it!
When Bipper's yellow gaze returned to her, he was still breathing hard, but his grin was back in full force.
"It's funny," he said, as he gripped the railing with one hand. "I really was going to let you finish your little show." He began to walk forward weakly, and she backed up to keep the distance. But he made no move against her, and stopped as he came to where the wedding cake prop was tied to the catwalk. "Two outta three ain't so bad, is it?" he asked with a smirk. "Maybe I can't get the journal, but without your brother or that computer, there's not much you can do to stop what I've got in store for ya."
Mabel glared at him. "That's not true," she growled, even though she had no idea what he was talking about.
"Isn't it?" Bipper said playfully, as he grasped the rope that tied the prop cake to the rail. He yanked at it briefly, then, with a grunt, pulled himself up so that he was standing atop the rail. Holding himself steady with the rope, he turned back to face her with a chuckle.
For a heartbeat, she thought he was going to ride down to the stage in the prop cake to grab the journal, so she prepared to make for the ladder–
–but something in Bipper's eyes stopped her.
"I really do like you," he continued calmly, despite the shakiness of his footing. "And I like Pine Tree too, even if he was so easy to fool." He shrugged with a chuckle. "But I guess that's the thing with pets, isn't it? No matter how much you like 'em… eventually, you've gotta put 'em down."
Mabel's blood ran cold, and her feet were moving before her brain had even caught up.
Bipper let go of the rope.
When the body crashed into the stage, the audience's collective gasp was deafening.
Wendy would never forget the moment she realized that it was Dipper.