"Filthy night."

"You said it."

"Shure did."

"Yeup."

"Yeup."

"Yeeup."

"Yeeeeup."

There was tension in the partially tarped Gravity Falls Police Precinct the very next afternoon.

The building had been rendered into a mixed lot of rubble and scaffolding, creaking in the ongoing storm. Durland had saved his collection of rubber-duckies-with-hairdoes-that-don't-go-belonging-on-no-duck, while Blub's vintage buddy cop VHS collection was secure in its safe. That safe was meant for guns, but who needs guns when you have movies? Right?

All the same, despite their prized possessions being well and truly looked after- and their hands being firmly interlinked under the table - there was no doubt that the latest case was rubbing them both the wrong way. The mayor had shouted at them. They expected some rough stuff since they became cops, but shouting? Shouting?! That was just too far.

The town hated them. All of their careers, they had wanted to help - wear big shiny badges - and keep Gravity Falls safe. Now, just when they thought they were doing that for real - when they thought they were finally on the brink of becoming those super-famous small-town cops that everybody loved with absolutely no negative reputation whatsoever… they get the entire community turned against them.

Who'd ever heard of somebody disliking cops, or disliking sheriffs? It just wasn't done. And now look at them! Shunned! Not given extra syrup on their pancakes! Even Toby Determined frowned at them, though, being fair, it was an awful lot of work to make that face smile.

Blubs simply hadn't experienced this before. He had - in his own mind - been an amazing cop. The best cop. The most dedicated cop. That's why he had felt so affronted by the insult from the Pines and the Mayor during the whole sawdust debacle.

To then discover a grand conspiracy that explained everything, explained literally everything to a horrible extent, and now realising he was literally laying down laws that absolutely nobody wanted? It knocked him completely off kilter.

And now he had a nagging feeling - a terrifying, nagging feeling - that there was something more. Something stranger under the surface. He had seen evil right in its single ocular, donned in a top hat, and now - he felt it. A vague intuition. The storms, the foreboding language, the fact Cutebiker seemed to be going insane, the fact a cold breath of sorts seemed to emanate from the manor atop the hill.

He felt goosebumps travel upon his arm, and that usually only happened when Yumberjacks had a 2-4-1 deal.

The two ate their instant noodle cups (Salisbury steak flavour) in a tense silence as the wind lapped and whipped at the plastic sheeting. They were cold, wet and miserable - and both conflicted over their recent activities.

Edwin Durland, owner of the most 'best deputy in the world' mugs in the entirety of the American Northwest, was not dealing very well either. He had been the one who convinced Blubs to pursue all of this. Now he was the one who disliked it most. He felt darned near guilty. If they still had a jail he'd probably go straight in there and start eating bread and water, and he only usually did that on Tuesdays!

"Blubs…"

"Deputy Durland, I don't wanna hear you tell me you don't like this. I don't like it either."

"Did we do wrong?"

"No, Edwin. We did our jobs. An' in this case? That was doin' wrong."

"Shucks. Dagnabbit. Darn."

"Y'all said it."

"Maybe we should tell the mayor and-"

"Durland, you know as well as I do that Tyler's gone absolutely nuts."

Durland gasped. "Blubs!"

"It's true! Man's acting as if blowin' up a high street is the crime of the century."

"You said it was pretty serious-"

"Dangit, Durland, don't be using my words against me! I wus wrong, I wus all wrapped up in this police-academy bull that I thought we could be normal cops, doing normal cop things! Look where we live, Edwin! We don't live in any normal place, like Florida or Ohio! We live in Gravity Falls, and goshdangit, I don't know how much I can cope with all of this conspiracy stuff no more!"

"What are you sayin'? Y-you wanna move?"

"No, Ed - no! I wanna be realistic. I wanna look at what we're dealin' with an' work out if it's all really too much for some goshdanged small-town police force to be jugglin' along. If the town's real problems actually are alla this historic crap when right now, we're safe and secure and-"

"Blubs?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm prouda you."

"Shucks, I'm prouda you too, Edwin Durland."

The two locked hands with big, broad smiles, innocent of the litany of rain and wind that pelted them so furiously. The building - what was left of it - creaked and groaned fiercely, whistling through teetering piles of rubble and tumbledown brickwork.

"Y'know, perhaps we should put our feet down. Say we don't wanna get involved."

"Would you quit for it?" Blubs said.

"Blubs, for you I'd quit jus' about any job in th'world."

"Dang, Edwin. Even an astronaut?"

"Even a goshdurned space ranger like on the teevee, Daryl."

They were interrupted by a fierce rap of knuckles on the door. They two exchanged a glance, and Blubs - hefting up his belt and cracking his neck, strode over to it preparing for only the worst. Would it be the typically authoritative tone of the stiff-shouldered Northwest patriarch or the increasingly aggravated mayor?

It was neither. Instead, the Pines family met him when he swung open the teetering door.

The pouring rain had soaked them to the skin, Pacifica and Mabel's hair coating their faces in layers. Their shoulders were slumped, their faces downcast and - in the greys of the ongoing tempest, they looked drawn and deadened of all colour. Even the more hyperactive Pines sister looked to have lost much of her spark.

Blubs tried to put on his sternest expression - but quickly faltered. "H-hey."

"If y'all get outta there, you kin get outta bein' in court!" Durland added.

"We're handing ourselves in, chief. We know when we're beat." Stan said, offering his wrists to Blubs. The gesture was so foreign to Daryl that he tried to awkwardly shake one of them.

"Well now…" Blubs murmured, twisting his moustache. "That may be the legal thing to do, but - why?"

"We had two options," Ford said. "Fight our case in the courts, or act as fugitives."

Blubs rubbed the back of his neck. "We wouldn't have kept lookin' for ya-"

"We know." Dipper huffed, straining his cap of rainwater before stepping inside. "But if we're gonna tell the story, may as well tell everyone. Right?"

"We don't even have a holding cell," Blubs replied with an eyebrow raised.

Pacifica huffed and sat on one of the slightly scorched office chairs, trying to shake the rain from her hair. It slapped Dipper across the face with a damp splap . "Then just let the mayor know we're ready for the case tomorrow."

Durland scratched his head. "Uh…sure. I'll - I'll ring him."

"Y'all wanna order takeout?" Durland piped in.

The Pines all agreed with more than a little enthusiasm. After being holed up in The Crawlspace, eating nothing but brown meat and chipackers, they definitely didn't suffer from a grease deficiency. But damned if they didn't want takeout.

Within time, the Pines had settled, and the food had arrived. Everybody was drying out using a set of essential police files that Durland had opted to burn, huddled in blankets that had been taken from the evidence room. As they warmed, so did everybody's hearts - and within time, Blubs and Durland quietly opened their mouths.

"We ain't got nothing against you guys," Blubs said. "We were shocked but-"

Durland slurped on a rib bone, which was a particularly unpleasant image. "We know you tried put evurthang right, too!"

"But you must admit, you guys did- well, did pretty terrible stuff and-" Blubs faltered off, not quite sure how to continue the sentence.

The aura darkened slightly as Ford put down his dinner, which he had briefly examined for its caloric content. "No." the old scientist said, firmly. "No, no. I did terrible things and dragged my family into it."

"Seems to be a Pines man thing." Stan shrugged. "Did the same thing openin' the portal back up while the kids were here."

"And me dragging you all into investigating when I found the journals." Dipper huffed.

"Guess we Pines are just the catalyst for a lot of crazy crud."

"Tell me about it." Dipper smiled nervously as Pacifica smirked at him. "We come in, we kinda disrupt things, we-"

"Get Gideon arrested. Twice." Mabel chimed in. "And saved Pacifica from a life of being really rich and really, really bitc-"

"Well, it ain't all bad." Stan cackled and slapped Mabel on the back. "That's my girl!"

The cops chuckled, but were eager to try and push for further information. For the next hour or so, the small talk was punctuated by gentle, prying chatter - short questions, or the odd raised eyebrow. Perhaps even the occasional thinly veiled interrogation technique.

It was perhaps only predictable - even to their somewhat dim minds - that the family didn't reveal a word about their lawyer, about what was likely to happen, nor what revelations would be put across in front of the courts.

Pacifica at Dipper, and laid her head on his shoulder. He smiled, picked up a rib - and frowned at the unmistakable shape of an Axolotl, rendered in onion and garlic, swimming in the thick sauce that filled the foil container.

The two exchanged an all-too understanding, distinctly sticky glance and cleared their throat.