above the earth, below the sky — ii

The twins are now hung high in the dark, suspended between the black palette of the sky and the scattered lights far below. Dipper has a strange feeling of vertigo; it's as if he is at the top mast of a ship sailing on a bobbing sea of lights which are impossibly reflected from some cloudless other sky. The wind roars in his ears and makes him tug his hat down tighter.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. He slides it out and glances at it.

Pacifica: Where'd you go?

He texts back, On the ferris wheel with Mabel

Pacifica: Lol you're stuck now

Dipper: Now she has to talk to me

Pacifica: So should I tell Wendy to not climb up

Dipper: Better hold off so we can get some twin time

Pacifica: Dorks

Dipper tucks his phone away. The continued murmur of the crowd can be faintly heard, but whatever conversations are happening below aren't audible at this height. He and Mabel are swaying far above the other fair attractions.

He knows the power could come back at any time. He returns his attention to an unnaturally silent Mabel.

"How weird is it that I'm the one trying to get you to talk?" he says.

A reluctant smile flits across her face. "Heh… yeah."

Her hair flutters in the stiff breeze, snaking around her shoulders, making it hard to see her expression in what little moonlight beams thinly through the thick clouds. They rock back and forth above the darkened earth, suspended in more ways than one.

"Geez, Mabel," he finally says, "is it really that bad?"

She doesn't meet his eyes. She leans back in her seat and looks up into the wide black sky. "I was supposed to catch you."

Dipper is taken aback. "What?"

"You fell. You fell and I…" She wraps her arms around herself. "I thought you were dead."

"That's what this is about?" he says. He's torn between relief and incredulity. "Mabel, I'm fine."

"I know," she sighs.

"It wasn't your fault. I thought that branch would hold me and then there's the whole being taller thing… not that I'm complaining," he adds.

Mabel nods half-heartedly.

Dipper puts his arms across the safety bar and takes a deep breath of the night air. He had honestly thought this would be easier, that she would just cave when confronted. "I don't understand," he admits. "I mean, I get that you don't want me to get hurt again, but I don't get why you won't talk to me. You could have just told me that."

She remains silent for so long that he begins to wonder if she will ever answer. "Remember when I wouldn't press the button?" she says abruptly.

Dipper is caught off guard yet again. "Uh, yeah. Of course."

"You told me to press it."

"Yeah, and who knows how long Great-Uncle Ford could have been trapped…? I don't know if we could have gotten the portal working again." This thought has haunted him before, and still does from time to time. They are all so lucky that Mabel had possessed the courage to do the right thing.

Mabel huffs out a frustrated breath. "No, Dipper, don't you get it? I didn't listen."

"I know it looked bad, but you saw Grunkle Stan was telling the truth and I just couldn't believe it, even after everything… Do you think I should apologize? He doesn't usually like apologies."

Mabel lets out an irritated groan. She pulls off her headband and drops it on the seat, allowing her hair to blow wild in the wind. It whips across her face in long rippling streamers.

"I didn't know what to do, Dipper! I did nothing and that turned out to be the right thing, but then later I thought you were staying and I did the wrong thing, and maybe I was doing the wrong thing the whole time, trying to have a dumb summer romance when you were having a real summer adventure, and…" She stops. Her flailing hair conceals her eyes and all Dipper can see is her mouth, slightly parted and downturned. "I just… I just keep thinking that this time I shouldn't get all stupid again. Then you fell anyway."

That is a lot to unpack. "You're sorry you didn't listen about the button?" Dipper says, confused.

"No. I don't know. Sort of. …No." Mabel sniffs wetly. "I just didn't want to think that about our grunkle."

"Maybe it was too easy for me." Dipper feels the old shame welling up, the weight of his doubt.

"It's just…" Mabel sighs again and her arms drop limply to her sides. "I know it was all my fault and then you came to get me… I was all messed up because I thought I was losing you and then I almost just lost you for real. I thought I'd be better this summer, you know? With everything. Guess not."

Dipper refuses to accept that. "Weirdmageddon wasn't your fault, Mabel. You were just the last person to get tricked."

"I shouldn't have been so dumb," she says.

"Yeah, well… we all shouldn't have." Dipper shakes his head. It had been a long line of unbroken errors, and if any single human bears the most responsibility for Weirdmageddon, it's Great-Uncle Ford. But Dipper doesn't accept that, either, because it's quite clear where the blame lies. "Besides, it's definitely Bill's fault."

"Cruddy ol' triangle," Mabel says thickly.

The lights have become more scattered. There's a steady stream of cellphone flashlights walking back to town or the parking lot. Dipper isn't worried yet, but it is getting chilly. Mabel has a sweater tied around her waist; he'll have to just bear it.

"I bet you wish you had stayed now," Mabel says.

"What?"

"With Grunkle Ford. Since you've been learning from him and stuff," Mabel explains. "I bet you wish you stayed."

"I was only excited because I didn't think it through," Dipper admits. "Mom and Dad wouldn't have gone for it, there's no way. They only just found out about Ford, they didn't know him at all then. And it's not like I wouldn't have missed them, or you."

Mabel doesn't say anything, though she seems to absorb that.

Dipper tentatively pokes her shoulder, trying to get her to lighten up. He's so unused to seeing her like this. "Look, I'm sorry I scared you when I fell. I'll try to be more careful, okay? But everything is fine—we are fine. And don't worry about last summer. I mean, isn't that what we've been telling Pacifica?"

It's this, more than anything else he's said, that seems to get through to Mabel. She straightens in her seat and pushes her hair out of her face, wiping at her eyes. "Silly," she mutters at herself.

It isn't, though. Dipper had been the one coming apart in the aftermath of last summer, and Mabel pushed all this down and picked him up. He doesn't need her guilt (and he's had this thought before, he remembers). It makes him wonder how he would have handled it, if it had been Mabel who had fallen. Would he have blamed himself?

Probably.

…Definitely.

And then Mabel would have made him see otherwise.

"It wasn't your fault," he says firmly, and he doesn't particularly care which 'it' she assigns the truth to.

The smile she gives him is a little watery, but he's just glad to see it. "Okay, Dipper."

"I can't promise nothing will ever go wrong again, but that's okay, right? We're okay. We'll deal with it, together. Like always." He holds out a clenched fist. "Mystery Twins?"

She presses her hand to his. "Mystery Twins."

He's barely started to retract his arm when she leans over and catches him in a fierce hug. He returns it as they hover above the dark earth, beneath the black sky, perched in their own moment. The pine trees murmur in the wind, the only witnesses to the reaffirmation of something intrinsic and precious.

When Mabel finally pulls away, she brushes her hair back and puts her headband on, wiping her face on the sweater sleeves dangling from her waist. She is already starting to look like her usual self again.

"I guess the power really pooped out," she says.

Dipper is actually getting a little concerned by this point. "I thought they would have turned this thing manually by now." He leans out over the edge, but he can't see much with all the struts in the way. He can just make out the heads of the people on the next seat down towards the front and that's about it. The clouds have thickened and even the sparse light of the moon has all but vanished.

Mabel shrugs philosophically. "At least we've each got someone to talk to!"

"It could be worse," Dipper acknowledges with a small smile.

And then, as if the clouds above are listening to him, it begins to rain.

Fat drops plunk onto the Ferris wheel and rattle through the trees, picking up in pace and number until they streak to the earth in a growing swell of noise. It's not a hard downpour but the droplets are large and heavy, a real soaking summer night's rain, the kind that thumps off a roof and stings a little when it hits bare skin. The water ricochets off the metal safety bar and the wooden seat, smacking against Dipper's exposed arms and legs and thudding on the brim of his hat.

He starts to laugh. There's really nothing else to do. Mabel joins him, raising her face up with her tongue out, giggling as they get gradually saturated.

"Ha ha ha! Geez, what a night!" Mabel exclaims. She closes her eyes and lets the rain wash over her.

Dipper slumps a little in his seat, wet and cold and emotionally tired. "I guess this is our life now."

"Yep. We're Ferris wheel people. Forever!" Mabel points to the other indistinct seats on the lower tiers. "We'll have to climb around and figure out who's our mayor, who has snacks, who we should eat first if nobody has snacks—"

They are both suddenly blinded by a flare of light. Dipper blinks as his eyes readjust and he realizes that the Ferris wheel has regained power, its bulbs and giant glowing question mark reignited. Leaning over the side of his seat, he can see dim figures below near the controls for the wheel. Craning his neck around, he looks back towards the Shack and sees it lit, windows glittering through the rain.

"Great-Uncle Ford must have tapped the generator!" he says to Mabel. "Two weeks ahead of schedule, too. Nice!"

The Ferris wheel jolts into creaky motion. It takes a few more minutes for it to complete its rotation as its shivering prisoners disembark. Dipper and Mabel's seat at last slides down to the platform and they gratefully stand on solid ground; Soos, shrouded in a vast yellow raincoat, steps forward to give them a helping hand. Ford is nearby at the control panel, shielded with a large umbrella. A thick black cable twists through the grass towards the Shack.

"Safe and sound, dudes!" Soos says, giving them both a pat on the shoulder.

"Sorry for the delay," Ford says as they stagger back to earth. "We tried working this thing manually but there were some issues. The rides Stanley rented are not exactly up to code."

"Sweet, sweet dirt!" Mabel says, bending to kiss it. She just as quickly straightens back up. "Whoops, that's gum."

"Thanks for the save, Great-Uncle Ford," Dipper says through his chattering teeth. "You too, Soos."

"Everyone else had to make a run for it when it started raining, but I came prepared. Never put your faith in the forecast entirely." Ford pushes the button to continue rotating the wheel, bringing the next set of people down to freedom.

Soos gestures towards the Shack. "You dudes should get inside and warm up."

"Hot chocolate?" Mabel asks, perking up.

"Try hot towels, hambone," Soos says with a knowing nod. "I threw a couple on the radiator."

"Soos you'll always be my heroooooo—" Mabel calls back to him as she darts away.

The twins run towards the beckoning light of the Shack, clothes sticking to their sodden skin. The sweater tied around Mabel's waist slaps wetly against the backs of her legs as she runs. Ducking through the curtain of water running off the roof of the awning, they push through the old wooden door and tramp into the living room, wet footprints in their wake.

They find everyone else basking in the shifting radiance of the television. Grunkle Stan is slouched in his chair while Pacifica and Wendy sit at the small table. Pacifica has her hair wrapped in a towel, looking a bit like she just wandered away from a day spa.

"Hey, you made it," Wendy says with a grin. "How's the weather up there?"

"Can't talk. Toweling." Mabel snatches one of the towels off the radiator and burrows into it with a shiver.

Pacifica just holds up her phone and fixes Dipper with a look. "Seriously?"

He winces at her expression as he wraps his own hot towel around his clammy body (the heat is delicious). He can only guess how many missed messages he has. "Sorry, Pacifica. We were… kinda preoccupied."

"Stranded! Abandoned, by our own grunkle!" Mabel says dramatically.

"You look fine to me," Stan grunts. "As a reminder, you're both family so you can't sue."

"Do we know why the power went out?" Dipper asks as he starts to feel warm again.

"Nope. It's the whole town so one of the big lines must be down," Wendy says.

Gravity Falls, like most of Roadkill County (maybe all, Dipper isn't sure), gets its power from the hydroelectric dam up north. The dam itself is probably far enough away to be safe from paranormal interference, so if any of the valley's creatures or anomalies knocked a line down it would likely be closer to town. Of course, there's been so much rain recently that it could be something as prosaic as a downed tree.

About half an hour later, he walks out of the steamy shower feeling drowsy. It's been a long day and he's ready to crawl between his sheets. When he steps carefully through his darkened room and drops into bed, it looks like Mabel is already asleep. He rubs at his eyes and relaxes into his pillow.

"Dipper?" Mabel says quietly across the room.

"Yeah?" he says.

"…Thanks for saying all that."

"Of course, Mabel," he says with a long exhale, sinking into his mattress. "It's the truth."

"More mysteries tomorrow?"

He smiles sleepily towards the ceiling. "Definitely."

It doesn't take him long to fall asleep.

Above the Earth, Below the Sky by If These Trees Could Talk (Not On Label, 2009)