nothing feels good

Pacifica's breathing is uneven. It's like she's building herself up to further divulgence, waiting until the pressure is unbearable and she has no choice but to let the words spill out.

There's reluctance in her posture as she speaks, but she seems unable to stop. "…When we got back, I thought I was crazy, like that Cipher guy did something to me, or I don't know what. Nothing felt real, nobody saw the sky all split like we did. My parents never said a word about it, it was like I made it up or had a nightmare or something. I had some bruises and we lost our old house and that was it. Right back to Malibu like nothing happened."

Dipper knows exactly what she means. "I guess I should have signed a letter for you."

"That would have been nice," she says wistfully.

"What about your other friends, did seeing them again not help?"

Her eyes dart to his when he says 'other.' "What other friends?" she sneers. "You don't make friends at the Academy, you make contacts. Same with the other families we know. I'm not supposed to associate with anyone too familiarly."

"You've done a lot of things you're not supposed to do," he points out.

She starts to smile at that, but her face quickly hardens again. "Not before last summer. Dad would just use the bell if I tried."

Dipper shivers at the thought of that. He is familiar with the concept of conditioning and just the fact that anyone would do that to their own child is… man. It's super messed up. He opens his mouth to ask how they got the bell to work so thoroughly on her but reconsiders before he says anything. Their conversation is already personal and painful enough without dredging that deep, if she'd even answer.

"The kids I know aren't like you," she continues.

"Hey, just because I don't have a lot of money doesn't mean—"

"No, I didn't mean it like that!" she cuts him off, narrowing her eyes at him for daring to interrupt. "I can't talk to them, even if they were my friends. Besides, my family came from Oregon, and a lot of them don't care who you are if you're not from Paris or Milan or wherever."

Dipper sits bolt upright in his chair, eyes widening as he's struck by a sudden, hilarious realization. "Oh, man, you… you're lower class to them!"

Pacifica grits her teeth. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"You're, like, from the wrong side of some stupid rich tracks!"

"Shut up!"

"You're a high-class hillbilly!"

"Shut up!"

Dipper can't quite stifle a snort of amusement. Pacifica waits for him to settle down with red cheeks and burning blue eyes, though he doesn't really feel sorry about it because of her history of looking down on people. Besides, she looks more alive now than she has since she appeared on the sidewalk.

"Come on, you have to appreciate the irony a little bit."

"No, I don't," she snaps.

"You don't think that's karma? Not even after how different you're supposed to be?" he prods her.

She's breathing hard and looks trapped. "You want me to grovel, Pines? You want to hurt me, humiliate me, because I deserve it? Well, maybe I do deserve it!" Her voice trembles.

That sobers him up quickly. "Pacifica, I—"

"Just tell me what you really think. I don't care. Just tell me and then I'll go." She stands, fists at her sides as if she's bracing herself for a blow.

Once again, Mabel isn't here to smooth things over. It's up to him to do it the only way he can think of: directly. He stands up to face her and clears his throat. "Okay, then this is the truth."

She flinches slightly but doesn't look away.

"I do like you. I like who you're trying to be. I wasn't lying when I said that," he says. "Whatever you deserved, I think you've made up for a lot already. And I don't want to hurt your feelings, and I'm sorry I laughed. But you do understand why I did, right?"

"Because you're a dork who thinks of things like irony," she retorts, but the tension is leaving her slim frame. "And I'm not a hillbilly."

"But I'm a dork?"

"You keep a book in your vest. Who does that?" Slowly, she sits back on the edge of his bed.

Dipper returns to his chair and waits. She watches him for a moment and then lets out a breath of tired amusement. "Are you really just going to sit there and let me get it all out?"

"Yep," he says simply.

For half a second, her expression is something close to amazement.

"I couldn't sleep," she says abruptly. "I'd try and try and then I'd get nightmares, sometimes. Like, bad ones. Things would happen with the pyramid, or you'd be all dead and wooden and I'd just… I'd just go into the panic room, and…" She trails off, unable to look at him.

"You saved everyone. You did the right thing," Dipper reminds her.

"For once. I bet my parents won't commission a painting of that," she says bitterly. "I wanted—I needed—like, a part of what happened, a reminder." She sighs harshly, appearing self-conscious. "I don't know how to put it, it all sounds stupid and… weak."

Dipper wants to make her understand just how closely he empathizes. "No, I get it. When I first came back, I felt like an alien. I've seen aliens. Well, alien things, I guess. Robots, or… automatons, maybe? It can't be android, because I think an android always looks like a person…"

"You are such a nerd."

Dipper tosses up his hands. "Yeah, okay, Pacifica. You're right, I shouldn't have tried to help or meet you halfway."

She actually looks contrite. "Sorry. It does help."

He's not really offended. He knows he's a nerd and has had Mabel around his whole life to note when he's being unacceptably nerdy in a social situation. "An apology from Pacifica. I should have someone commission a painting of this," he teases her.

"Don't get used to it," she snaps in something approaching her old tone, but he sees her fleeting smile.

A thought occurs to him. "Hey, what about your friends from Gravity Falls? The girl with the hair, and the other girl with the… hair," he finishes, realizing he has no idea what their names are and only a vague memory of what they even look like. They both sort of faded behind Pacifica's presence.

"Who?" Pacifica says, appearing genuinely confused. "Oh, you must mean Tiffany and Elizabeth. My designated summer playmates," she says scornfully, and makes it sound like 'designated summer playmates' should be capitalized. "More like designated Northwest minions. They're the kids of some of Dad's business contacts in the area. They did whatever I wanted and got to hang out at the Manor in return. You know, I've wondered if Dad actually paid them. …I didn't used to care," she says more quietly, contemplative.

"Anyway, I knew you two were going back to Piedmont, so I looked you up," she continues. "That was enough, for a while." She crosses her arms defensively. "I don't know why I came to see you. I had to get away from my house and I… I had to…"

Pacifica doesn't finish, but Dipper can fill in the blank easily enough. Mabel had brought him back to himself, given him something to cling to. His sister is a constant reminder of what happened, but in a good way. She grounds him; she knows it all, she was there. She is the only person he can be honest with who isn't hundreds of miles away.

Pacifica has no one. And it makes him really mad to see how much she is suffering because she'd done the right thing. Maybe it was inevitable, maybe it was even necessary for her to go through if she is going to change, but, man. It still sucks.

"Sad little rich girl, right?" Pacifica says stiffly when he doesn't reply right away. "Poor Pacifica, she only has one pony and half an Olympic-sized pool. That's what you think."

Dipper honestly wouldn't trade lives with her for all the money in the world. He found an extended family in Gravity Falls; she'd broken the dark, dysfunctional links she had with hers, and the whole thing collapsed. "I think your parents are the worst. You're being punished for trying to be a better person, and that's messed up."

"I don't want to be this way anymore, I don't want to be this!" she bursts out desperately. "I said I was going to fix our family name, but they don't want to fix it." Her hands fist in his sheets. "After I saw you, I felt better, but things just got worse. Mom and Dad don't even talk, they yell, so Dad's gone all the time and Mom just drinks and they ignore me. At least they do when they feel like it. I saw my Dad right before he left, and you know what he said? He said it was all my fault, that I betrayed the family. Like that means anything! I can't fix it if they won't let me! They would have let you die! Just so we could keep looking special! That's not okay, that's the worst thing I…" Her eyes are wet, but her jaw is clenched in fury. "First time he even mentions it since we left, and he throws it in my face! I hate him!"

This is some heavy stuff—kids aren't supposed to say that about their parents (it even felt faintly forbidden when he called her parents the worst). Dipper figures if anyone's earned the right and has the cause, it's Pacifica. At the same time, he's really hoping that Mom and Dad are very sound asleep, because Pacifica is getting some things off her chest and they aren't the kinds of things that come out quietly.

He sits there feeling awkward while she sniffles and rubs at her red eyes. He doesn't want to look like he's staring. Pacifica's changed a lot, he's sure of that now, but she still has plenty of pride. She wipes her eyes for the last time and then stills, focused on a random part of the wall. Dipper realizes this might have been the first time she's ever confessed anything like this. He feels compelled to say something.

"Pacifica… I just want you to know that me and Mabel are here for you." He winces at how corny that sounds. "I— I'm not trying to sound like a Wallmark card, but you were part of the team too."

She doesn't look at him. "You didn't think I'd want to be friends, did you." It's not a question.

"After the Manor, I wasn't sure. When you came to our party I thought you did, but when you didn't give us any way to contact you I figured I was wrong."

"I was afraid, okay?" she says defensively. "My parents were already angry I went to your party at all, I only got away with it because there was so much going on. I didn't want them to check my phone and see that—" she stops and makes a noise of derision. "So dumb. Like it even mattered. They don't care anymore. They don't even want to look at me."

"But… won't your mom be looking for you? Right now, I mean?"

"Only at the bottom of her next mimosa," Pacifica says contemptuously.

"Oh," Dipper says awkwardly.

"I haven't seen her for a couple days, anyway," Pacifica says wearily.

She's wilting as she speaks. She'd looked exhausted when she had arrived; now, red-eyed and spent, she looks like she's barely clinging to consciousness.

"Do you feel better?" Dipper asks her, wondering if he's done her any good.

"…Yeah," she says after a moment, sounding sort of surprised. "I guess this really does work."

"Cool. Glad I could help," he says, trying not to sound like a complete dork (and probably failing).

She can't look at him when she says it, but the fact that she says it at all speaks volumes. "Thanks."

He shrugs and smiles. "Sure."

She blinks blearily and looks around as if seeing the room for the first time. "I should go," she says sort of distantly, slumping even lower where she sits.

"Where are you going?" Dipper says.

"Back to the airport. I can call a taxi again. Ugh, they always smell weird." But instead of making that call, she leans over, legs stretching out on the bed. "Just give me a minute," she mumbles.

"Uh, nobody else knows you're here, and I'm not sure—"

"I'm going to borrow this," she says commandingly, putting her head on his pillow.

Dipper isn't unsympathetic to her condition, but he's tired too! "Wow, help yourself. Not like I need to sleep there or anything."

"It's just for a minute! I can't fall asleep in a taxi; the driver will probably steal my earrings. I just need to rest my eyes, just for a…"

Dipper is fairly certain she just fell asleep mid-sentence.