Dan, Kevin and Gus all threw themselves towards the doors of the courtroom as the water began to start a brutal ingress. Every second of torrential rain increased the lake's overabundant waterline, made only worse by the already waterlogged banks and the thundering waterfalls that fed them.
The valley bottom at Gravity Falls was very much a flat one. The skid of a flying saucer's bottom made for a perfect place for a settler's town, but it was also led to heavy, clodding earth - fiercely compressed by hundreds of thousands of tons of extraterrestrial steel, leaving very little space for water ingress. The millennia-packed earth was one problem, but the concrete that protected The Crawlspace, the hidden tunnels and subterranean elements that the Pines had explored so thoroughly - the old structures of the Northwest manor's bowels. Ford's and McGucket's bunkers. The mines. All of them were lined structures that resisted the overflowing lake.
The water simply had nowhere to go.
It just flowed towards them. Ever increasing in number as the rivers and streams that fed the lake grew in unison. It waved and lapped slowly at first - then began to torrent forward and pile towards the town centre in impossible quantities. An almost continuous, flowing, increasing wave. The rivers that led away from the town were nothing more than a bottleneck.
If it had been a pathetic fallacy before, it was now one of practically apocalyptic levels. Tate and Backle's Bait and Tackle stood no chance, and swiftly collapsed into a pile of timbers against the rush of water. Which was now the second time of the Summer it had been knocked down by unworldly elements.
The Northwests, of course, were not ones to stick around in a time of peril. Preston clambered up the judge's podium and grabbed one of the many trap-hooks scattered around the building, awkwardly trying to position it onto the closest skylight.
"Ya thundering bastich! Ya gotta let me get up there first! Ya don't know how dangerous this stuff can be!"
"What on earth do you me-" Preston yelled as his great-grandfather awkwardly climbed up onto his shoulders and threw himself at the Skylight, managing to grab the sodden frame only barely and hauling himself through.
Preston glared up at the wrinkled creature and followed, hauling his wife up after.
"Next summer, we'll visit my parent's house. Not stick around this rotten little town." She snapped, grabbing his hand and clambering up to the roof. "Your blazer is going to be ruined."
"I'll buy myself a hundred new blazers. Mark my words." He replied, as her heels hit the soaked roof tiles. "Just be careful, darling. Slippy places up here."
"Don't you dare think this is over."
"Priscilla, please. These hicks will forget all about the trial when the town's underwater." Preston said, indignantly, trying to ignore the fact that Nathaniel had plucked up a roof tile and was sucking the rain off of it like a thirsty rat.
Dipper blinked as he watched them, then looked to his girlfriend.
Pacifica was glaring up at them furiously. "Stan, put us down."
"Huh? No way, blondie. The Pines stick together." Stan snapped back.
"I think they've got the right idea." Dipper protested. "...For once."
"If we pile up all of the furniture-"
Ford raised an eyebrow as he let Mabel back down. "I'm not sure how solidly built this courthouse's roof is, but it's better than the alternative…"
Stan huffed, letting down the kids and rolling up his sleeves. "Least this is the only great catastrophe we need to save the town from, huh?"
Everybody glared at him.
"...Right, right." He sighed, knocking on the wood of the podium. "Got it. Don't tempt fate."
The family sprung into action, basically committing life-saving vandalism. Which was the best kind, really. Much better than 'that British jerk with the stencils', Stan would later observe.
Together, the courtroom's pews were pushed, the drawers and benches toppled, and slowly piled up like a colossal heap of overly expensive, graffiti-laden mahogany. The bureaucratic nonsense of the town's historic pomp and circumstance quickly became nothing more than a path to safety for the town's working classes.
Quentin, after trying to punch some of the water ingresses back like a 19th-century Caligula, followed suit and began piling everything from crates to telephone books onto the growing mass of escape route detritus. The townspeople soon joined in, ripping up the bench and podium and stripping the room of its fittings.
Tyler stammered in protest, torn between his mayoral pride in the building, and the continuing threat that was developing around it. "W-wait! You can't just-"
Dan yelled at the mayor from the other side of the room. "DO YOU WANT US ALL TO DROWN?!"
Cutebiker, hurt by Dan's growing hostility - justified though it may have been - shrank back like a flower. "O-of course not, but this is-"
"I CAN'T HOLD MUCH LONGER, MAYOR!" The lumberjack yelled, as water piled against the door to the great courthouse, the already hefty wooden doors beginning to press against his broad shoulders.
Everybody watched silently. It was a quietly panicked sort of silence, a tense one in which nobody really knew what to say. Nobody went crazy. Just sort of… bundled up together, as they backed towards the great monolith of antique wooden furniture. Water began to surround the creaking windows. Glass panes began to crack. Ancient wooden frames began to groan and split. Even spots of loose plaster began to spring leaks as the building's old walls struggled to contain the forces from outside.
"Everybody, go!" Mabel shouted. "Get up the pile! Climb the tables like drunk English tourists!"
"I-is it safe?" Susan replied, wincing at the pile of furniture.
"It's a hell of a lot safer than stayin' here, Suse. Come on, huh?" Stan replied, guiding her arm. "Can't have ya gettin' drowned, who'd feed Mister Catface?"
"You're totally riiiiight! And Donald, and Sandy, and Michael, and Paul, and-" She beamed as he helped her up the great mahogany and oak pyramid, and she began making her way up the creaking structure with more than a little clumsiness. Stan tried to ignore the gigantic grin on his great-niece's face.
"EVERYBODY GET ONTO THE ROOOOF!" Dan growled, desperately wishing Marcus and Wendy were there to help him instead of doing 'real work' as he had insisted for the past four years. The rusted hinges of the door began to let out a high-pitched squeal, as water began to streak through.
The floor began to dampen. Then, slowly, began to fill. An inch of murky, ethereal water, followed by four more. Townspeople scrambled up the makeshift ladder, punctuated by the odd yell, scream, or attempt at singing Nearer My Dog to Thee.
Tyler reluctantly looked at the Pines. "I - I can't, I-"
"Ain't no time to go 'captain' on us, Mayor," Stan smirked. "Who's gonna lock us up at the end of all this, huh?"
The little man in the jean shorts twitched his moustache as he looked up at the bulk of Stan Pines. Perhaps it really was due to their vast difference in height, or due to the shame he felt - but Tyler Cuterbiker had not felt so small in some time. "Well I- Uh-"
"Hey," Stan shrugged. "You got plenty'a time to make your decision. Scoot!"
"I-I'll come back for you, Daniel!" Tyler said, dramatically. "I'll get you! I'll get you!"
"JUST GET ONTO THE ROOF, TYLER!" Dan bellowed back, as the wood began to split - as if it was swelling with water at an accelerated pace, and rapidly losing its integrity. The doors and window frames flexed and groaned, more and more spots beginning to crack open and allowing more water into the developing pool.
Before long, Stan's brogues were completely underwater. "Oh what the- these are genuine counterfeit Italian!"
"Come on, Stanley. Time to go." Ford said.
"GET UP THERE!" Dan yelled. "KEVIN, GUS, YOU TOO!"
Kevin struggled, his feet treading water. "N-no way dad, we can-"
"I SAID GO!" Dan yelled, pushing his son towards the Pines.
Mabel eagerly grabbed Kevin's hands and pulled him up, while Gus rolled his eyes and made pukey faces, following them in his usual begruding manner.
Pacifica and Dipper began their ascent, tightly holding eachother's hands as the furniture groaned underneath them, while the Grunkles swiftly followed suit. Soon - with a surprising speed that almost reeked of actual competence - the entire courtroom was up on the roof of the building.
Dan grunted, gritting his teeth firmly as he looked around the room - then let go and ran to the ramshackle, teetering pyramid. It wasn't much of a head start. Almost immediately, the doors flew open under the force of thousands upon thousands of gallons of what - once - had been pure Gravity Falls spring water. He roared in fury as the wave hit him, bowling the enormous frame of the lumberjack over and into the raging rapids. And, before he could grab hold, the pile collapsed, swept out by the rushing torrent.
"Dan?! DAN?!" Tyler screamed through the skylight. "Oh god, it should have been me!" Cutebiker sobbed, tears streaking down his little baby face as he looked out upon his beloved town. Gravity Falls was, right enough, underwater, the buildings and water tower protruding like half-sunken ocean liners.
It churned and swirled under the winds, lapping at windows, brickwork and plaster. A giant Gobblewonker tail flapped past, though nobody seemed to notice. All eyes were miserable and downcast - save that of Nathaniel Northwest, who stood proudly on the building's pinnacle with his hands on his hips. This seemed like an achievement to a man who had spent much of his years praising chaos. He beamed. A sick, fractured, yellowed and filthy grin that betrayed his sheer lack of compassion.
Nobody paid the Northwests any attention. It wasn't entirely clear if it was out of well-placed anger and feelings of betrayal, or if they just didn't matter to anybody.
Quentin Trembley stood, one foot raised against the raised accent at the building's roof. He wasn't loud, bold, or even particularly confident. Instead, the eccentric president was silent. Stoic. Studied.
If anybody was to see the man's face, they may well have seen his lip trembling.
Pacifica rested her head on Dipper's shoulder and sniffed. "Some Summer."
He sighed and held her. "I- I'm sure we'll fix it. E-everyone will be okay. You'll see."
"Optimism doesn't suit you, Dipper. But thank you." She sighed, running her hands into his vest and clutching him.
Kevin was watching the skylight with petering confidence, while Gus - usually the roughest and least emotional of the kids - found himself dizzied and lost. The thought of losing his sole remaining parent was indescribable.
There wasn't a sound from below. Not a sign of what lay beneath. To those on the roof, it seemed that what was left of the town… was dead. Although, at the very least, Greasy's Diner was floating up a treat.
"Dude… I don't wanna, like, make a situation worse, but Wendy an' Marcus were drivin' that ol'puffer today." Soos said, quietly. "Y-you - uh - you think they'll be alright?"
"Are trains floodproof?" Gus asked, tapping his fingers together awkwardly.
"No." Kevin said, hand on his brother's shoulder. "But they're Corduroys. If anybody can get out of this, it's our family."
Mabel clutched his hand and tried to give him a brave smile. As much as he wanted to return it, and be the big tough guy in front of his girlfriend, Kevin simply couldn't raise one.