The din of the nearby highway did not help settle the heightened sense of anxiety. For five, and a pig, who had pulled into the truck stop off the highway ten minutes prior, the noise was a constant reminder. There was something about the rush of passing vehicles that put them on edge, bringing to mind what they had escaped some hours ago. Other cars were parked behind the most accessible lot, but these five had, instead, chosen to park near the forest line.
Waddles the pig had decided that under the worn and weathered picnic table was his best spot for shade and comfort. The group had taken to the same spot, just a few feet deeper in the trees.
Her red hair flowing behind her, Wendy had just gotten back from what she explained as a 'perimeter scan'. "Lots of trees, but no people. This isn't a popular spot," she shrugged, "So we're clear for now."
"Okay," Dipper nodded, massaging his jaw. "Good to know we weren't being overheard."
"That I know of," Wendy added, and strolled next to Soos, who had chosen to sit across the table from Delilah Pines. His nervous stare had been unbroken since they had sat down. His lips were tightly locked in some manner of withholding himself, to which the others noticed.
Delilah Pines, who had all the cheery roundness in the face that a younger Mabel had, cautiously examined Soos. "Are you okay?" Delilah asked finally, blinking and leaning just slightly away from Soos.
He suddenly trembled, like an over-shaken soda, or pop, being let loose. "I have so. Many. Questions. Like, first of all, on a scale of one to ten, how does having the coolest uncle in the world feel?"
She blinked. "Uh..."
"Of course," Soos laughed, "duh, Eleven. Oh, uh, how does knowing your children saved the world once sit with you? Using the same number system."
"Uh..."
"Twelve! Knew it," Soos nodded, "and also-"
"I'm sorry, I thought we weren't trying to over-load me at the moment?" Delilah reminded them, "Still coming to terms that my children have… how do I put it? More than just having the best imagination since my own years as a kid? Dealing with the fact that they have actually been in mortal danger on more occasions than they've had school yearbook pictures?!"
Mabel snorted. "Mom, chill, it's not a big deal."
Delilah Pines rubbed her temple. "That... is probably the best, or worst, thing I've ever heard my children say. It's not a big deal that mercenaries are trying to kidnap or kill you?" she turned to her daughter, who sat next to Dipper, across the table next to Soos.
Dipper shrugged. He casually added, "Not nearly as bad as the time we were nearly erased from existence. Also, those were private security. Not mercs."
Their mother cringed and put a hand to her face. "Your father would flay me if he found out how much danger we've been letting you all into. I mean," she dropped her hand with a loud plop, "I think it's cool. Not a lot of parents can brag that their kids are becoming secret agent types before they graduate from high school."
"Aww, thanks mom," Mabel grinned as Dipper chuckled.
"But you know your father," she sighed before mumbling, "Safe than sorry over everything. I'm shocked he even gave you a bike."
Dipper hummed, giving her remark a thought. "Right now, that's not such a bad idea," Dipper pointed out. Mabel jabbed him in the ribs, glaring at him as their mother sighed and lowered herself to the table. Dipper winced, "Ow! What?"
"Mom doesn't need you badgering her about what's right, okay?" Mabel hissed under her breath.
"Fine, fine, okay," Dipper nodded, backing off as he raised his hands in surrender.
"All these years," Delilah Pines blurted out, "I had heard stories about crazy adventures in a distant town in the woods... places and people and things that can't actually exist," she said to the twins, "It's all real, isn't it?"
"Yup," Dipper nodded, "Real, and dangerous."
"Dangerous," their mother repeated. "How dangerous?"
"Dangerous enough to do this," he said, lowering the sleeve and showing his now proud scar along his arm, from where Graupner had cut him nearly a summer ago. Delilah gasped and clawed at him, yanking his arm closer for inspection, which nearly threw him off his seat. "Ow! Mom! Stop!"
"Who did that to you!?" she demanded, the fire in her eyes returning.
Dipper, regretting his attempts at more boasting, whined, "It happened months ago, mom!"
"That's not what I asked!" she growled.
Mabel spouted out with a proud grin, "Wendy did the patchwork!" The mother slowly lessened her grip, and turned to the still standing girl nearby. Mabel added, "Got him nice and not-bleedy!"
"You stitched my son?" the mother quietly asked. "Nice."
Wendy shot upright, not a sunken muscle in her body – not a single lax muscle. "Uh, yeah. Thanks. Hey," she turned to Soos, her words shrill and loud, "Buddy, you think we should re-stock on snacks?"
"But you don't eat. Or drin-," Soos pointed out to her. She replied by giving him a glare filled to the brim of promises of pain and death. The handyman then shot up. "But then again, better be safe than dead. Hah. Let's get all the snacks dude."
"All of them," Wendy replied. She let the half-petrified Soos stiffly walk with her towards the main truck-stop building. The twins, their mother, and Waddles, all watched for a moment.
With an air of discovery, Delilah cooed, "So, I finally meet Wendy." It was Dipper's turn to shoot up and shiver.
Mabel spoke candidly. "She's a warrior princess from another planet! She likes being so chill you can't even handle it," Mabel explained, "And she's super cool, and into everything, except stupid stuff." Dipper sighed, slowly coming to a seat. Mabel furthered, "and Dipper so wants to date her."
Dipper shot right back up, and snapped. "YOU-" and went to shove his sister. Her expert evasive practices kicked in, and she weaved around his hand, having Dipper fall out of the picnic table and onto the ground with a clatter. From the ground, he grumbled, "Traitor." She replied with by sticking out her tongue. On the ground, Waddles quickly licked at his fingers before he tried standing up again.
Their mom, entirely used to such behavior, commented, "Well, if she's able to stitch someone up nicely, and you two have decided to live your lives always on the edge of life and death, it's the next best thing to dating a war field medic."
Dipper's face went red. As far as approvals went, that might have been the first he had ever verbally received. Mabel, on the other hand, gave the title a quick think over. "I think she technically classifies as that," Mabel hummed quietly.
Their mom turned to them, her arms crossed. "So, your father and I have been wrong about what you do during the summers. This place, Gravity Walls-"
"-Falls," Dipper cut in.
"Whatever," their mom spluttered, "Is real, and dangerous. Somewhere in our line, we have not just your grandfather Sherman, but two older Grand-Uncles."
"Grunkles!" Mabel proudly exclaimed, and then grimaced, "But we don't talk about Ford anymore, not since we sent him and a crazed dream-demon into an anti-dimension."
"Who recently escaped and is at large," Dipper added.
"The drama," their mom sighed. From under the table, a pink pig oinked in agreement.
"But it was a real place," Dipper reminded her, "We have proof. Wendy and Soos both lived there, had family there. Records of their births and where they live should still be accessible in a computer."
Delilah sighed. "That's all really fascinating, and nerdy, which I approve," their mom approvingly patted Dipper's shoulder, "But I think that's less important than, well, why goons where trying to, well, goon us. The heck are security guards doing trying to kidnap you all, and me, in the middle of suburbia?" she then rolled her eyes, "At least it's easier to believe than mermaids in San Francisco. That's just cray-cray."
As Mabel snorted into her cupped hands, Dipper piped up. "At least she's picking up on things going around."
"I'm plenty observant!" their mom declared, leaning on the table with her elbows. "I can always tell about things before they happen. Like..." she turned and stared at the arm she had just placed on the table, "I think I just got my jacket stuck on gum."
Mabel leaned in to the table. "Oh! I wonder what flavor it was," Mabel hummed as her mother tried pulling away.
"Focus, please," Dipper grumbled. The two ladies turned on him, and he continued. "Mom, the guys who grabbed you were waiting for us, expecting us to show up. Mabel and I have made a few enemies in the past, but we're pretty sure who's behind this one."
Mabel inquired, "Yeah, did they say who they were working for?"
The mom thought, finally tearing away from the table, which in turn ripped the sleeve of her jacket all the way up to her elbow. Both twins let their mouth fall open, but Mabel never ceased smiling. Now cradling her chin in thought with half a sleeve still stuck to the table, their mom thought aloud.
Delilah pondered. "Now that you mention it, they sounded kind of secretive," she said, "Sort of avoiding the person's name. Mostly called him 'boss'. It was a guy though, for sure," she noted.
"You could tell?" Dipper asked.
"Sure. They made fun of him. I'm sure he's a bad person if he's sending goons after me, but they called him the 'anger twink', which just sounds rude," their mom preached.
Mabel burst out laughing. "Anger twink?" she cackled, and fell to the ground. Despite her amusement, Dipper groaned and leaned away. Dipper clutched his arms, feeling the ghostly reminders of long gone scars he once thought permanent. As she stood back up, Mabel glanced to her brother. She calmed down as she saw him reflexively look to his hands and arms.
Their mother just saw her children in agreement: making fun of stutters is bad. "Well, I don't know exactly what a twink is these days," she declared, startling them both, "but I remember other words that sounded like that. They also weren't great to call someone. So, do me a favor, and don't call people that, just in case it's something really nasty," she said, giving one final tug on the table to completely remove the sleeve, which tore away from her elbow, leaving a thick sweater-like half sleeve on the table.
Dipper rubbed his hands over his forehead, massaging his temples. "Mom, we're in this situation because we know who it was who sent them to your house."
Delilah deflated. "Oh. Well, that's bad too," she quietly admitted.
Mabel puffed out heatedly, "He's a horrible jerk, who deserves no friends, and kind of needs to be in immortal time-out," Mabel detailed, "with a curse, and blond hair, and one eye."
"A pirate?!" their mom gasped.
"A warlock," Dipper said.
"Gesundheit," their mom said to Dipper.
Dipper stared at his mom, who showed no signs of sarcasm, though she was plenty capable of it. He explained, "His name is Graupner Kinley. He was a study of a powerful Sorcerer," and he clarified with his mother, "A wizard, basically," and she nodded, "Named Omir Steindorf, who's gone forever. Now Graupner he's got no one to really stop him, and we think he's responsible for the collapse of-"
Delilah gasped. "The Steindorf and Co?" the twins stared at her, and she crossed her arms tightly. "Yeah, that was no doubt an illegal operation to gain the cumulative wealth of the company without the paper trail to lead to the actual head of the operation, and avoid persecution," their mom concluded. The twins stared at her. "What? I watch the news, and I got a masters in economics. I know a sketchy liquidation when I see one."
Despite their mother's burst of fiscal knowledge, Mabel explained, "Graupner wants to use you to get us."
"Noted," their mom nodded, "I got an idea when I heard them say, 'we can use the mom to get to these kids', so... yeah," she shrugged.
Dipper sighed, finally standing off from the ground, and said to her, "Then you know where we're going fist."
Their mother nodded and adopted a stern look. "Jenson."
"Dad," Mabel quietly corrected.
"Since we rescued you, their next target is going to be him, no doubt," Dipper mused out-loud, "In order to protect you both, we need to get you and keep you away from the places they'll expect to find you."
"So home, favorite places to eat, friends," their mom listed, "And work. Too bad for them I am a digital commuter. They can't get me from the internet!"
"Not without an insane magical spell that lets them do exactly that," Dipper gulped.
Their mom, previously confident in her answer, suddenly paled. "What kind of world do you two live in where the internet isn't a safe place?" she demanded.
The twins only shared a look, and said nothing else. "Mom," Dipper dusted his knees off, "We need to take you someplace that's safe."
Mabel proclaimed, "We only know of, like, one place right now that's really 'safe'. But don't worry, the guy who set us up is totally trustworthy," Mabel grinned, even as Dipper scowled at her, "And totally attractive and a great singer, and... among other things," Mabel summarized as her face grew hot.
Their mom stood up, her arms stiff at her side. "No."
Both twins gulped.
"I'm your mother. You don't get to treat me like I'm not a help until I have grandkids down the line," she reprimanded them. "Until I'm an old, frail granny who can cook better than I can now, and has kids to watch for either of you, I'm a frisky, single mother who is going to help my children save her ex because it's the right thing to do."
"Mom, this isn't-" Dipper's face trembled at the sight of his mother glaring at him. He was at her height now, but that wasn't a matter that could be taken into account. Their parental figure of authority, whether informed or not, was in power now.
"Don't." Her word was law, and Dipper felt the weight of her mother command as she rarely did. Mabel's lips tightened, and she looked right at Dipper. That look, with those open eyes, suggesting 'Nothing we can do, right?' was not lost to him. He barely shrugged, but the movement was enough to communicate with her. "I mean, c'mon guys," Delilah snapped, and whipped her hand to the table ground, and to the pig, "you're bringing Waddles with you guys!"
"That's... not a bad point," Dipper agreed, scratching at the back of his head.
From the direction of the building, the voice of Wendy called, "Sounds like a plan's in the works." The three turned, and Wendy stood with Soos, who held in his arms mounds of candy and snacks. Wendy's eye's darted to the ripped sleeve. "Nice. It's too hot for long sleeve."
Delilah turned to Dipper, a very sly grin growing. Quietly, but not in a whisper, she muttered to Dipper, "Oh, I like her. She gets my style."
"You're not the only one liking her," Mabel giggle. Dipper kicked at her hip, knocking Mabel aside, who cried out with a 'whoop!'.
"So then, Missus Pines," Soos said as he opened his second bag of chips, "You're coming with us?"
"I am," she nodded, "There should be someone else there aside from my children that my ex-husband can relate to. Otherwise, he may think it's some elaborate prank."
"I can relate," Soos nodded, "Like, if it was just some sort of crazy TV-show that kids these days like? Maybe get prizes if they act a certain way? Like Fear-Plan," Soos pointed out.
Delilah gasped. "I love that show."
Soos also gasped. "Me too!"
Mabel, standing up, saw her mother grin wider. Delilah told both twins, "You pick good friends, you two."
"I'd show you more," Mabel said, her smile growing at first, "But... you'd have to see the town," Mabel mentioned, her grin fading.
Dipper placed a gentle hand on his sister's shoulders. Fighting back the pain of knowing everyone who had ever lived in Gravity Falls, now gone forever, was more than just a temporary thing. The male twin looked to his mom, who studied their grim looks. Dipper told her, "We're going to get dad, and bring him to a safe location. From there, we know someone who may be able to get you to a safe location."
Wendy piped up, "Roadtrip?"
"Back on it," Mabel nodded. Waddles squealed in excitement.
With the cars back on the move, it would only be a few hours before the twins made it to their dad's place. Their father, Jenson Pines, lived in Piedmont still: the same home that the twins had grown up in and continued to switch between with their two parents. He was far more subdued than their mother, and with a habit of enjoying counter-culture and technology; something Dipper had adopted in stride.
He was more than capable of handling himself in the day-to-day business, but the idea of him coping with hired men to kidnap him was, by no means, anything other than ridiculous. He always sought a calm, thought out approach, and rarely jumped to conclusions or made a guess. Even in, or especially in, the more dire of times, he took his time.
With the five around Dipper and the pig climbing into the car, he gathered his friends once more around him.
"Okay guys, this is going to be the same. We get a distant look and see what's up. If we're lucky, they won't have a bead on our dad yet," he told Wendy and Soos.
"And if they do?" Wendy asked.
"We try the same technique," Mabel shrugged, "Worked well the first time. Enter home, find baddies, beat up, and run. Simple!"
"Sweet. How far away are we thinking still?" Soos asked.
"Just about-" Dipper started. Then the phone rang in his pocket. Lifting it out after a pause, the number before him on the small pixilated screen was alien to him. Yet his memory stirred. He had seen this number before. With a clearing of his throat, he opened the phone up and said aloud, "Zander."
"Dipper," Zander's voice called urgently back, "I need to know where you are right now."
"Why? We're at the hotel," Dipper lied, glancing around, checking that the cars in the distance weren't too audible.
Zander sighed. He then said, slowly at first, "Dipper, do me a favor – pretend I'm not stupid. I can track GPS signals with my crew."
"Your crew?!" Dipper snapped back.
"And they let me know you're in, of all places, California!?" Zander barked, his voice raising to a level Dipper was unfamiliar with. "There are four other neighboring states you could have popped into, and you chose California. Do you have a deathwish?"
"Mabel and I grew up in California," Dipper coldly replied, "We know our way around."
"I'm sure that's what our friend, Graupner, is counting on," Zander growled, "I'm under the impression he's now aware you're in state."
"Well, we are," Dipper said.
Mabel reached over and snapped the phone away. "Zander!" she squealed, "Hi! How are you? I hear you and Dipper are having a serious discussion. Let's lighten it up a bit, right?" she asked, giving Dipper a stone-like smile.
Zander did lighten up, but was still clearly urgent. "Mabel, listen to me carefully, okay?" the voice of her summer-long crush returned, "I need you all to get out of state. Back to Oregon."
"Zander, it's okay," Mabel chuckled, "We kicked the bad-guys' butts soo bad. You would have loved it. Didn't stand a chance."
"I would, and I am proud," He told her. Mabel fought every urge in her body to melt to the ground, but he wasn't done speaking, "And that is also kind of the problem. They know that you're competent now. They're escalating."
Mabel blinked, looking to the others, staring at her expectantly. "What do you mean? They're on... escalators?" she coyly replied.
He attempts at faux-idiocy did not work. Zander, with a low volume, started, "Mabel-"
She flinched. "Okay, okay, what do you mean then?" Mabel worriedly said, feeling defeat as the conversation turned into a serious one. She would have to have her more friendly chat with him another time it seemed. "So, they'll have more men next time?"
Zander explained rapidly, "Since I've left you guys, I've made a few contacts. Some are helping me keep a watch on our good friend," and Mabel pressed the button for the speakerphone, so all could hear, "Graupner. He's been using, up until now, the personal security forces of the company – men who go through basic requirements to gain status as a simple bodyguard. Since your stunt in Citrus Heights, they've moved onto bigger guns."
Mabel gulped. "Like... bigger muscles?" she asked.
Zander answered quickly, "Yes and no. Private security contracts. Graupner knows you're in state, and seems determined to get at you two, and anyone who's with you. I guess your mother is somewhere nearby?" Zander asked.
Mabel chuckled, "Say Hi, mom!" The woman stared at the phone and Mabel, uncertain to what she was being referenced in. Mabel casually assured Zander, "She's a little shy, but she's here."
"Well, get her and yourselves out of state before you stir anymore wasps," Zander grumbled, "Your trouble got the hive mad."
"Our trouble?!" Dipper snapped.
Zander cleared his throat, "Look, what you did-"
"Saved me!" The mother cut in, stepping towards the phone, and snatching it from Mabel's hands. "Now, mister whoever the heck you are, I'm not sure I appreciate the bossy-tone you're trying to use regarding my kids! As far as I remember, only myself and their father get regular privilege to do that! And for the record, they saved my butt-"
"And risked their lives, and therefore the safety of the world, to do save you," Zander coldly interrupted. Their mom stared at the phone, her mouth frozen open. Zander then asked, "Miss Pines, Delilah, right?" he asked. Delilah Pines' eyes widened, stunned that her name would be so easily counted. The voice of Zander told her, "You have every right to be thankful for your kids after what they did for you, and in general. They are incredible kids. Try to understand my concern. This is no longer just angry goons in a house in the suburbs. Mercenaries trained to kill are after them. Do you really want them against that?"
Dipper reached out and took the phone back. "And we're outrun werewolves and vampires before! Some would consider monsters like that much worse than just big dudes with guns!"
"Guys," Zanders voice rumbled softly, a suppressed frustration bleeding out from the phone, "I'm telling you now, get out of California. I can-"
"Deal with Graupner alone?" Dipper shouted.
"That's not what I said, but right now that's also a good idea," Zander stated.
"So, we're just leaving our dad behind because it's dangerous?" Dipper asked.
"That's... I can-"
"Forget it!" Dipper shouted, and without another word, slapped the phone shut.
The four stared at him as he panted, his shoulders heaving. The fury and heat from the conversation had crept into his face and lungs, and the stinging in his throat reminded him of his shouts. Dipper slowed his rage to deep, long breaths, and finally spoke again.
"It doesn't matter what he thinks, does it?" Dipper said to them, "This is Mabel's and my dad. We need to help him."
Soos let himself nod. "As much as I wish we could agree with Mister Maximillion," Soos said, holding his finger up in an auditory note, "We totally should rescue your family."
"Yeah, forget the danger," Wendy snorted, "I can take whatever they throw at me. Let me be the meat shield."
The mother hummed, examining Wendy's form with a raised eyebrow. After Dipper turned and stared at her, the mom glanced back to him, and gave him a wink. Once again, his cheeks flushed, but less for anger and more for the heat of embarrassment.
"Well," Mabel rubbed her hands together, "All aboard the 'Rescue Train'!"
Not long after Dipper informed Wendy and Soos of the road they'd be stopping at (some three streets before the one their dad lived on), they were back on the road yet again. Not long after that, the twins' mother slowly succumbed to the draw of sleep. Mabel, sitting in the back of the car, stared at her brother as the dying light of the afternoon brought lines of darkening violet and orange for them to watch.
"It's so pretty," Mabel cooed.
"Yeah," Dipper nodded.
"I already forgot we could see more of the sunset in California," Mabel admitted, "At least in summer." Dipper scoffed and nodded. "Still," Mabel mused, "The woods were really pretty."
Dipper dwelt on that note, and admitted, "Kind of hard to remember when we're running for our lives." Mabel's foot suddenly appeared next to his shoulder. Dipper gasped and turned, seeing his twin slowly climbed up, past him. "Hey," he hissed, checking on the figure behind him. Mabel squeezed between the seats and finally sat next to him with a bouncy plop. "You could have woken mom up."
"She's tired," Mabel said with a grin, "Isn't used to the excitement of escaping certain doom."
"It wasn't certain," Dipper rolled his eyes, and then placed them back on the road, "It was quasi-certain at best. And put your seat-belt on, or mom'll yell at you."
"Mom doesn't care about seatbelts," Mabel poked her tongue out at Dipper, who grinned despite himself. "Can't fool me, buster," Mabel winked.
"Fine, fine, got me," Dipper admitted. As the two smiled gently, the car fell into silence again. There was nothing unsaid between the two of them as they watched the highway before them, aware of the dying light and the headlights of Dipper's car dimly illuminating Mabel's bike, currently in use by Wendy.
Yet Dipper's forehead crumpled. Mabel glanced next to her, seemingly and instantly aware of his sudden mental stress. With a sudden snort, she realized a missing feature, someone for him to stare at. "Dude."
"I didn't say anything," Dipper squeaked.
If Mabel wasn't grinning before, she was now. "Ohhh, you're thinking something bad, huh? Is it Wendy's butt?"
"Mabel!" Dipper hissed.
"You were!"
"Was not!" Dipper yelped, "Stop saying stuff like that, or Mom will get some crazy idea!"
"I bet you twenty bucks that she's already got five ideas," Mabel dared.
"I wasn't thinking about Wendy!" Dipper growled.
"Yeah? You jumped when I said something," Mabel pointed out, "You always jump when I catch you thinking about her." Dipper's reaction wasn't her expectation; rather than sigh and bite at his lip, he turned and looked to her, studying her face for a moment, collecting his thought. When he turned and faced the road again, Mabel reconsidered. "Okay, so it's not Wendy," Mabel admitted, "What is it?"
Dipper chewed at his lip before talking. "Why do you like Zander?"
Mabel pressed herself against the back of the seat near instantly. Her chest tightened as she felt the question reach her. It wasn't intrusive, or at least it wasn't meant to be. Yet she felt more than a prod from Dipper's words. She could see his eyes in the reflection of the windshield as he thought ahead, his mind already working to formulate the next best thing to say.
She went to speak, but he jumped in. "And don't say that he's handsome and cool," Dipper grumbled.
"Why not?" she replied with a similar grumble.
"Because that's not enough to forgive him being a lying, manipulative, back-stabbing jerk," Dipper decisively said.
Mabel's cheeks flared, and it wasn't in her 'happiest flushed girl' kind of way. She ground her teeth together at each word, feeling the need to retaliate. Zander wasn't any of these things, and she knew it. Still, Dipper had the right to be angry at him. With a long breath, Mabel gave her truthful answer.
"I like him because he's a good person who's trying his best to help us."
"He's not," Dipper quickly denied.
"Then why did he come find us after the town was gone?" she retorted.
"He needs our help," Dipper snarled.
"He doesn't need our help," Mabel chuckled, in disbelief at Dipper's words, "He's stronger, faster, and smarter than us."
Dipper glared at her for a quick moment. "He's not smarter than us."
"Dude-"
"Just because he can fight better than us and is some crazy... whatever he really is," Dipper grumbled, "He's still a liar. He couldn't come straight to us and warned us about Graupner and Omir working together! Or how about the stone!?"
Mabel saw the look in Dipper's gaze in the window again. She saw something he was refusing to admit. There was an emotion he was burying with his talk of anger and retribution. Pain. There wasn't just the paranoia that was pushing him to yap like this: Dipper was hurt by what Zander had done.
Mabel relented. Maybe, for once, Dipper would be allowed to feel the way he did. Yet no sooner had she turned and leaned into the chair than Dipper sighed.
"I'm sorry," he admitted.
She shrugged, barely moving her shoulders. "It's okay. I... I don't know. I don't really know what to think about him anymore."
"Like mom and dad, huh?" Dipper joked.
The words had clearly come out of Dipper faster than he had expected. Mabel had shot over and stared at him, her mouth open. His own mouth fell open, and he checked the mirror, looking at his mom.
"Dipper," Mabel gasped, "What did that mean?"
"Sorry," he nearly whispered before clearing his throat. "I was just- bad joke- too far."
"You meant that," Mabel realized out loud.
He again held his tongue, biting into his bottom lip as his forehead furrowed. Then he looked to her. "Well, don't you?"
Mabel blinked. "Do I what, exactly?"
"Think of mom and dad differently since they... broke up?" he asked.
Mabel leaned away, still looking at him. "No?" she said, her own words betraying her. If Dipper thought he was a bad liar, he hadn't seen an uncertain Mabel. He just gave her a simple glance, and she crumbled. "Fine. I guess so."
"It's not like they ever told us what went wrong," Dipper recalled out loud. "They could have kept is un the loop."
"I remembering us wanting to stay away from it as much as possible," Mabel mumbled, coldness reaching her skin as she recalled to the days of shouting and tears. Back then, home was bitter and filled with broken hearts. Those were the last days where she and Dipper lived together in any kind of constancy.
"I... yeah," Dipper nodded, "I remember that too."
"What would they have told us anyway?" Mabel asked, "Would it have really mattered? It was still our family splitting." Mabel looked back to Dipper, his general position slouched. "I just miss knowing I can knock your door down if I had a bad day at school," she admitted.
Dipper's mouth quivered, and he nodded. "Same. I can't decorate quite like you can," Dipper smiled.
Mabel smiled, yet it was a short-lived grin. Her mind saw a connection from one event to another. Things breaking, and drifting apart. She asked, "Is... is this just our family?"
"What do you mean?"
"Do people in the Pines family just fall apart?"
Dipper gave her words a quick thought, and then he nodded. "Like... Grunkle Stan and Ford."
"Yeah. I was just thinking that-"
There was noise behind them. Mabel stalled, and Dipper shot upright. A yawn from the backseat had Mabel spin in her seat, watching as their mouth fluttered her eyes open and sit upright. Delilah Pines glanced around, finding Mabel with a faint smile.
"So that's what I felt a few minutes ago," the mom muttered. "Abandoning me to the front seat?"
"Better view," Mabel chuckled.
"Mom," Dipper gulped, "You, uh, did we wake you up?"
"I don't think so," she shook her head, scratching her hair, "I heard something about Grunkles, and in my dream, I had to know more."
Mabel chuckled. "He was Dad's uncle, and he was-"
"Crazy," Dipper snickered.
"Crazy cool more like!" Mabel told him.
"Grouchy, mostly," Dipper pointed to her.
"And smelly," Mabel beamed.
"That does sound like an old person you're talking about," their mom stated with a nod. "So, this Stanley Ford, was he-"
"No!" Mabel laughed, "His name was Stanley Pines!"
"Ah, he was your dad's side," she mused. "Then who's Ford?" their mom asked. The long pause in the twins was more than enough for any mother to decipher hesitation. She leaned forward, her brow tightening like Dipper's. "Hm. That means this is a no-go topic?"
"No, it's okay," Dipper sighed. "Grunkle Ford was Stanley's twin brother."
"Oh! It was genetic!" Delilah snapped her fingers, "I always wondered if your father hadn't just made that up."
Dipper ignored her comment, and detailed the story. "Ford was a researcher of odd and unusual things. Paranormal, extraterrestrial, whatever. One day, after he and Stan had been working together, they got into a fight. Ford was accidentally thrown into a portal, and Grunkle Stan always tried getting him back, no matter how hard it seemed."
"That's so sad," their mom muttered.
"Yeah," Mabel nodded.
"But that's not the end," Dipper gulped, his fingers tightening on the wheel, "Because Ford came back. We didn't even know there was a Grunkle Ford until Stan told us! I always knew him as the author to my journals," Dipper admitted. "But... he seemed normal."
"Seemed," Mabel reminded their mom, "But he wasn't. Not even a little. And not in the cool way of crazy, but in the 'uh oh he's going to cut you' kind of way."
"Wait, what?" their mom gasped.
Dipper simmered as he spoke, "He was working with a Demon named Bill Cipher. The demon had made a deal with him before he was thrown into the portal. But after the portal incident with Grunkle Stan, Ford made a second deal- to be a servant as long as he got back home. Bill took the deal literally, and was able to use him even after he got home as an agent."
Mabel, letting Dipper breathe out his feelings for a moment, took to explain further, "Ford wasn't able to fight Bill, and we had to stop them both three years ago, by doing what Stan couldn't. We had to throw him back into the portal."
"I'm kidding about what I said earlier," their mom quietly said, "Drama doesn't compare. You... you two really did all of that?"
"Yeah," Dipper nodded stiffly. "Sometimes I still hear him shout at us as we watch him fly into the portal. If we hadn't thrown him in, Stan may have been killed," Dipper told their mom.
As their mother leaned back against the back seats, Mabel also let her back rest against her seat. The memorize never left her. Every once in a while, she would see that same dream. Bill's laughter, Ford's body compelled to do as was ordered, like Dipper before him. In the end, she would see Ford spiraling into the eternity that was the anti-dimension. Whatever it had led to, they would never know. Both people who had known about it were gone forever.
She refused to let the creeping sadness get the better of her. She told them both, "We still have each other."
Dipper and Delilah both turned and stared at Mabel, who turned to them, her best, beaming smile an example to escaping the tragedies of the past. "And as long as we have that, we can still save the day, no matter what."
The warming grin on Dipper's face reflected into Mabel's soul. She made him smile again, and in turn, she truthfully smiled. Yet the two heard sniffling, and glanced behind them. Their mom had tears filling her eyes, and her lip trembled.
"You two... are... astounding," she admitted.
"Mom, stop it," Dipper laughed, "This isn't a sad moment."
"I know!" she snapped in a sloppy voice, "I'm sorry! You two are just amazing people. I'm... so proud of you two. Always so proud of you."
The words spoken after their mother said were few and far between, but the golden light that blossomed in the twin's chest filled them to the brim. Whatever negativity had come to them earlier was chased out from the grand confidence and love of their mother. Who wouldn't swell with pride after a parent tearfully told them how proud they were?
Soon, as their chats became more and more reassuring, they saw Wendy pulling into the exit towards their dad's neighborhood. Slowly, their pace was a crawling one. It wouldn't be long before they were only ten streets away. The three in the car started to tense up. Then it was six streets. Five streets. Four.
They parked the two cars and bike three streets away, plenty of distance between the home and their location. As the group collected itself in the cover of night, huddling nearby a bus stop, Dipper cleared his throat, and quietly re-collaborated the plan.
"So, according to Zander," Dipper resisted putting venom in his voice at the utterance of the being, "There baddies know we're out here. Dad hasn't called, so I think we can assume that they haven't come for him yet. Otherwise, this should be done quickly and quietly. Unless stuff happens, and then it's the usual."
Wendy stated with a cool tone, "Beat up or punch out. Some things don't change."
"So dawgs, what's the plan of action?" Soos asked, "Through the back door?"
"Not this time," Dipper said.
Mabel squawked, "Why not?"
"Because that was our attack plan last time," Dipper explained, "So if they are here, they'll be expecting us from that way."
"Oh, super smart," Soos nodded.
Mabel asked, "Do all of us go in?"
Dipper shook his head. "No. You and Wendy go in first, while Soos and I take up defensive positions on the corner, just in case we see something while you're there," Dipper explained. "You two are the stealthier of the four of us, and Mabel was living here last. She'll know more than me what's new with the house."
"I broke the fence," she shrugged, "That's about it."
After Dipper and her mother stared at Mabel, the teen boy shook his head and continued. "So, any questions?"
"Extraction plan," Wendy stated, "Just get your dad out and run him to the cars with Waddles asap?"
Dipper shrugged, and said, "Unless there's a better way. You can't fly as a wraith, can you?" he asked Wendy with a timid grin.
Wendy gave him a glance. "Not yet," she said with a playful warning.
Miss Pines asked, "Sorry, a what?"
Ignoring Delilah's inquiry, Wendy looked to Dipper. "Time to go?"
"Now or never," Dipper said. Putting his arms on Mabel's and Wendy's arms, he nodded. "Good luck. We'll be waiting. Mom, stick behind by the car."
Delilah Pines jolted. "What?" And she looked around to the four. "But... okay, fine," she mumbled, "But if they fight you all the way here, I'm getting out my tennis racket," she told them.
Mabel and Wendy were off in the night like a silenced shot. With a brisk, quiet sprint, the two stayed as much to the shadows as they could. It wasn't all that hard, as the trees in the neighborhood brought much needed cover for the two. Grass and yards softened their footsteps as they made it closer, and finally down the first street, and then the second one. Before they made it to the house, they checked behind them, spotting Dipper and Soos watching them from behind a tree at the corner.
Mabel saw it again, the house she and Dipper grew up in. To her shock and mild embarrassment, the white picket fence she last saw in ruins was still run down. Her dad must have been busy, or taken her word for it, as it was yet repaired. The small garage hid away her father's car, but nearby was the door and front stoop.
The lights were dark. Her father wasn't exactly a night-owl, but this was cutting it early for him to be in bed already.
She slowed down as Wendy made it to the step. Mabel, quietly, told her, "I got that feeling again."
"That something's up?" Wendy asked. As Mabel nodded, Wendy looked around. "Well great, because I got the feeling we're being watched."
Mabel reached for the door, and then blinked. There was a red dot she had not seen before on the white walls next to the door. Her father was a poor painter, granted, and Mabel loved the color, but it was very... bright. She went to reach for it, but then her eyes widened and she held her hand back. It wasn't paint. It was sliding towards her silently.
"Wendy!" she gulped, but the red-head spun to her in a flash. Wendy barely had time to kick out at the door with a hefty kick.
BANG!
Dogs barked and cats shrieked. Homes across the neighborhood awoke with panic and fear. The gunshot tore through the night just as it did flesh and fabric. Mabel had ducked and jumped inside the house as the door split off the hinges. Wendy, however, screamed and fell inside as the red dot vanished and re-appeared on her back. She stumbled down, a hole the size of a nickel in her back. Mabel shrieked and ran forward, seeing the red dot fix on Wendy's chest as she spun over.
"Stay out from the doorway!" Wendy shouted, her eyes watering as she rolled to the side. The wooden floor shattered and splintered as three more shots missed Wendy. Gunshots from across the road.
People outside were screaming from other houses. Mabel had just enough time to turn and pull Wendy out of the doorframe, hyperventilating. Wendy had been shot. She had been shot by a bullet in her back.
Wendy growled, "Aww man, I can feel it in my shoulder!" as she stagged to her feet, gritting her teeth.
"You're okay?!" Mabel gasped.
"It hurts like hell, so no!" Wendy barked.
"But you're-"
"I can't die, Mabel!" Wendy snapped, "But that doesn't mean I feel nothing!"
Wendy dared moved to the windows with Mabel, each of them taking to aside. As they did, another bullet ripped into the glass, shattering one of the panes of glass into the house.
Mabel shrieked and Wendy cursed quietly. "I hate that my dad was right about teaching me this stuff," she growled, "Ambush tactics. Great. Mabel," Wendy said and looked to her, "Go get your dad. Then we can deal with what's waiting in the back of the house!"
An older, male voice shouted in shock "Mabel!"
Mabel spun around as Wendy craned her head. At the darkened hallway that led into the deeper house, her father strutted out. Taller than their mother by only a few inches but with curly brown hair, the man had a lanky build that betrayed away the Pine Family genetics. His deep brown eyes studied the state of the house before him, still in shadows. He was hastily applying glasses, and quickly made note of Wendy, and the bullet holes in the ground.
"What is going on!?" he hissed at Mabel. "Is this some insane prank gone wrong? I thought you and Dipper went camping after something happened!"
"Dad," Mabel sighed, and rapidly pointed to Wendy, "This is my friend Wendy," she then pointed to the floor, "Those are bullet holes," and she pointed to the window she stood next to, "And outside somewhere is a maniac trying to shoot us."
Her father stared at the situation, and then pressed himself hard against the hallway wall. He yelped, "Care to explain why there are bullet holes in the ground!?"
"They missed after the first one," Wendy mumbled, carefully peeking around the window to get a view. "The guy is in the tree. Vantage point. Dang it, they knew we'd be here."
Mabel sighed. She leaned against the wall, and looked to her dad. "Long story short dad, Dipper and I are trying to save the world, and these jerks are trying to sort of stop us, but not really. I mean, they'd stop us by killing us, which is what we think they really want." There was a loud rattling at the window door across the house, and Mabel and her father both turned and stared. With a loud gulp, Mabel asked, "Wendy, what were you saying about the back?"
Wendy spun around just in time. She made an uncompromising dash across the house, running straight through the closed off living room towards the back porch door. Mabel made to follow, and saw the glass window break down just as Wendy got there. Enemies were closing in around them.
A man, padded with black armor, and many holstered weapons, stormed through the shattering glass. He held a large laser-sighted pistol in his hands. Wendy made not attempts to stop as she ran forward into the sight.
With a suppressor attached, the pistol fired four times into Wendy, each bullet making it's mark. Wendy gasped only once, and stumbled forward, but not before grasping the pistol from his hands and throwing it to the floor.
Mabel roared, "Hey!"
The man turned up to see Mabel mid-air. Her foot made contact with his chest, and he was shoved back against the wall with a loud bash.
"No one shoots my unkillable friends!" Mabel shouted, and threw a punch. The impact against the gut was shockingly worse for Mabel than she had expected. A layer of thin metal armor stood between her fist and the target, but still her strike was true. He reeled mildly as Mabel felt her hand swell up.
Then he made a retaliation- reaching for something sheathed. Mabel ducked back and leapt away as a knife was slashed outward. The man, a mask covering his face, stared at Mabel with cold concentration. It was something she had only seen once in her life, when Graupner had fought them. The man had no qualms killing her; truly stone cold.
Wendy then lurched up off the ground, and grabbed the arm. The knife plunged downwards into the man's leg. He grunted, a sharp hiss of air as he saw his own weapon wound him. Yet the mercenary barely had time to strike down Wendy again with his fist. Mabel took another mid-air swing. This time she made contact with his face and her heel.
Trained mercenary or not, the impact was hard enough to toss him a foot away and onto his back, where he fell, unmoving. Mabel landed next to Wendy, and helped her up.
"Oh man," Mabel fought back tears as she saw the four holes in Wendy's front.
"It's not that bad," Wendy shrugged, "Not like the one time I got clawed by a cougar in the back. Took forever to stitch up," she laughed, only to stiffen and hiss, "But that does smart. Not much, but just a little."
There was another loud bang. The two ducked as a bullet barley passed over their heads, passing through the wall. As they took cover by the collection of comfy furniture, Mabel's father came into the room, covering his head.
Towards Mabel, Jenson awarded Mabel a tiny, frantic smile, "Your training with Miss Arline sure pays off. So, what do we do with this?" he pointed to the man.
"Easy," Wendy said, lifting herself up. Then, eyes on the windows, she lifted the pistol from the floor, and checking it's slide for ammo, "I go out the front, shooting into the tree. The guy takes cover. You two run while he deals with me."
"What?!" the father gasped. "You'll be killed."
"Nah, I won't," Wendy shrugged.
"Then you'll be shot!" he said, and his eyes widened as he saw the four bullet holes in her shit, without signs of blood.
"Too late for that one," Wendy grimaced.
His eyes trembled. Jenson Pines, father of Dipper and Mabel was hopelessly lost. He turned to Mabel, desperate for answers. "What... what is going on?"
Mabel grinned, and told him, "She's a friendly neighborhood living dead girl!"
Jenson's eyes flicked to Wendy, who shrugged nonchalantly. Then the father looked back to Mabel, millions of questions burning in his mind. Then he looked again to Wendy, perhaps rationalizing what he had just been told. Finally, he looked to his daughter one last time, and sighed. "I have no idea what happened, but suddenly I feel like I'm in one of Dipper's and your stories about... what was that place we sent you to?" he asked, his eyes squinting.
"I'll tell you later," Mabel sighed. Mabel spun around to Wendy. "Ready to rock, sista?"
Wendy cocked the slide, sending a cartridge flying. "You know it, sucka."
With that, Mabel let Wendy step out, her pistol at her side. "Dad, as soon as you hear the gunshots, we run. Got it?"
"I hope she's immune to bullets," her dad worried as the red-head marched out into the open.
Mabel squinted, and stated, "Well, kind of. She's immune to dying."
BANG.
The shot through Wendy's stomach sent her to her knees. Coughing and growling, Wendy was watched by Mabel and her father as the girl slowly rose again, now with more holes in her body. Her teeth bared, the red-head stepped out, and lifted the gun towards the tree, and she shot, one steady round at a time.
"Now!" Mabel roared.
Her father and her raced through the house, treading carefully over the wounded floor and the shattered glass. Though she was dressed, her father only wore sleeping pants, an undershirt, slippers, and his bathrobe. The man was less prepared than their mother had been hours ago.
Bursting out of the house, the two raced behind and away from Wendy, who had just fired her sixth, and seemingly final bullet. Yet, to their amazement, a figure jumped out from the hidden perch in the tree, and raced to grant himself cover.
As he did, from the other side of the tree he was thrown out. Soos and Dipper stepped out, having taken cover behind the very tree the sniper had been.
"No one shoots my co-worker!" Soos snapped, tearing the gun away from the masked assailant, and swinging it like a golf club across his forehead. The man fell back, knocked out cold and pacified. "Now take a nap, you cold-hearted assassin poophead."
"You two are supposed to be at the corner!" Wendy snapped. She then glanced at Soos, and shook her head, "Poophead. Really?"
Soos sheepishly admitted, "I wanna keep it PG to impress the parents."
Mabel shouted, "What happened to the plan?!" Mabel shouted.
"Dipper!" Jenson gasped.
"Dad!" Dipper smiled. The man ran into him, wrapping his arms around Dipper in a quick hug. After the quick moment, Dipper looked to the ladies, "The plan changed the moment Wendy was shot! I'm not having Soos and I sit around watching you two get peppered with bullets! To heck with that!"
Mabel sighed, and glanced at Wendy. "Can you believe this-" but her words stalled. Wendy was blushing, a little touched at the comment.
"So, let's complete phase two," Dipper suggested, "And let's get the heck out of here!"
"Wendy?" Mabel nudged the red head, who jolted.
She shakily nodded. "Right!" she said, and tossed the pistol aside as Soos dropped the rifle.
Soos saddled up next to Jenson. "Nice to meet you, Mister Pines!" Soos said, shaking hands with Jenson Pines mid-run, "I've worked with your uncle very closely, and let me tell you what an honor it's been to befriend your son and daughter, and now meet your in person!"
"Uh, nice to meet you too," Jenson said, studying the man who shook his hand. Finally, he re-claimed his hand, and looked to Dipper, "If you're here, and Mabel's talking about rescue, is Delilah also-"
"Yup," Dipper nodded, "Waiting at the car." Their father grunted, yet said nothing on the topic. "We need to get you two out of state! We have a guy after us!"
"Try several," Their father mentioned, "And 'after' is more like 'trying to kill'!"
Mabel grumbled, "Well, being a good person and stopping evil gets you enemies sometimes. It happens in Strongholds and Serpents, so it happens in real life."
Their father gasped. He looked to his children with big, sparkling eyes. "You two play Strongholds and Serpents now?"
Turning the corner at the end of the street, Dipper found their mom running at them a small pink pig at her feet, squealing. As the dogs of the neighborhood continued to bark and yowl in panic, Dipper noticed something along with Mabel.
Two men walked casually behind her, guns raised.
The group slid to a halt as their mom caught with them.
"They were coming to the cars," Delilah gasped, "They knew where – Oh. Hi Jen," she muttered to the father.
"Delilah," he nodded.
Mabel groaned, her arms at the ready, "We can have an awkward family reunion later, okay?"
"Yeah," Dipper said, and glanced behind him. "We need to move before we're..." Two more men started behind them, similar rifles in their arms. Dipper looked around, and on three separate roofs, there were mercenaries waiting for them. "Surrounded," Dipper whispered.
They were all at each other's backs. Nowhere to run.
"Okay," Mabel breathed rapidly, her posture ready to fight, "They all have guns. Dipper, got an idea?"
Dipper shook his head, and hissed, "Not really!"
"C'mon!" Mabel pleaded.
Soos pleaded, "You always got something buddy."
Dipper spluttered, "I-I-I don't know!"
They men stopped. They all had their guns trained on them.
What could he do? Dipper was a good student, but Mabel, his teacher thus far, was still far better than he, and was asking for his input. How could he know what to possibly do? He had no idea! Fighting against pistol packing guards had been one thing- these guys had strategized and planned. Now, in the middle of the street, Dipper could only pray.
He needed a miracle.
His mind reeled as ideas and theories came flooding back into his mind. Miracles weren't really something he needed.
Wendy quietlt asked, "Dipper?"
He glanced to her. The bullet holes in her body tore at his own. They didn't bleed- reverted by magic... then it made sense.
What he needed was magic.
Dipper lowered his hands, and reached back into his mind. He needed something now, something physical. Something that could cause a scene, something to escape. Anything to get away.
Then again... there was one he remembered. He had only used it once, but it left quite the impression. That spell was dangerous, possibly lethal, and very dramatic. It was what he needed for everyone to escape.
"Cover me," Dipper muttered to his allies.
"What?" Wendy asked as she glanced over her shoulder, eyeing Dipper as he began to mumble.
Dipper, closing his eyes, remembered what he had seen in the page, three years ago. He only needed to remember the words. "Corpus... levitus," Dipper mumbled slowly, doing his best to be deliberate in his choice. Magic had been their undoing, and it would be their salvation now.
The closest of the men stood before them, and raised his gun. With a sullen, careless tone, he called to them. "The twins come with us. Anything else you do gets someone killed. Any questions?"
Wendy shouted, "You can suck a knob!"
The man raised his gun to her as quick as he might have just as merely sneezed. It was natural. However, no gunshot came. There was a loud 'thunk', and the man jolted. He suddenly fell, forward as a figure slowly rose to stand up behind him.
Covered in a black cloak, silver scarred mask, and holding a shimmering starry-like spear, the Gaurdsman stood up, looking to the group. His voice dark and intimidating as the void, he told the enemies around him, "Fools," and his cloak billowed.
The mercenaries turned on him quickly enough. "New target!" the closest man shouted. "Engage-"
As the seven other men had all spun to face the man in black, there was movement all around them. From the shadows, suddenly five others had leapt out, striking at the armed men. Jumping from the nearest of roofs, behind the men in the street, from behind cars, bushes, fences- there was within moments, a huge brawl.
Dipper and Mabel watched as, without a doubt, they witnessed the most conclusive battle they had ever witnessed. Of the five figures who had leapt out, three were men, or masculine, at least. There was a very tall person who looked like a woman, and a much shorter woman with bright red hair. Mabel's eyes widened as these five fought. She knew those moves, she had practiced them herself!
The mercenaries had little time to react as each one was struck again, and again. From different opponents from different angles these elite killers were beaten down. Shoved aside, kicked up, punched down; all of the hostile forces to the Pines and their allies quickly fell in a matter of moments. Not a single bullet more had been fired.
Soon, eight unconscious bodies sat on the ground. The mercenaries had been beaten in a mere flash.
The youngest of the five, a man with short hair, cheered. "Yeah! Path-power! No-one stops the forces of good!" he shouted, and ran over next to the Guardsman. He was no older than Dipper and Mabel. Black hair and wearing a long, dusty, worn leather trench jacket, the kid raised an enthusiastic hand to the masked figure. "Up high!" he proclaimed. The Guardsman stared, his face entirely masked. The teen started to wither under the silence. "Uh... no?" he said, slowly lowering the hand, "Oh. Okay," he sighed, pocketing the hand and walking aside. He adjusted a strap to what seemed to be a guitar case along his back.
The Guardsman approached the pines and their friends. Coming up to his side was a man with short, dark hair and rich, dark skin. That man said, "So, these are the targets."
Mabel gasped as she looked around. Faces, although unfamiliar, belonged to people she had heard of before. She turned to one man, who was bald. She noted a twinkle in his eye as he said something to the shorter woman that made her flinch. Maureen pointed at him, and said, "You're Mister Rushtar! I know all about you!"
The man blinked, and looked around, taken aback at Mabel's sudden outburst. "Uh, what?" he asked aloud, "I got fans?"
Mabel then pointed at the woman next to him, the one with short red hair, "And you! You're Maureen the Menace!"
The woman's mouth fell open. "She knows us?" the pixie-cut red headed woman asked the rest of her comrades. "How?"
Mabel cheered, "I know all about you! I'm like Santa Claus, except I punch you when you've been naughty."
The bald man guffawed with laughter. The tallest one, the woman with long black hair, merely raised an eyebrow at Mabel's comment. She asked, "Who is she?"
The Guardsman stepped forward, passing by the group without a fuss. "You're addressed by the apprentice of Arline Hirsch, the Rising Phoenix." The deep words of the Guardsman shook the four adults. They looked about, exchanging looks of significance.
The other teen pocketed his hands, and noted, "Ah, cool."
Mabel grinned and puffed herself out. "That's right! Bonified badass here!"
The teen with the guitar case, who had been relaxed with Mabel's knowledge, asked, "So, what, she's our target, and a–"
"A member of the Path," The Guardsman nodded.
The two Pine Parents looked thoroughly lost. Taking initiative, Jenson Pines leaned over to Dipper. "Dipper, are these our allies?"
Dipper, eying the Gaurdsman, managed to say, "They... fought off the mercs, didn't they?" Dipper said, his jaw tightening as he stared up at the mask on Zander's face. It was once again tightly secured, giving away no secrets to the identity of the guardsman of the Paths.
The Guardsman heard Dipper's comment. He strode over. "I told you I was coming to get your father and take him to safety," the Guardsman stated. "This was risky for you and your friends to come."
Dipper, feeling uncooperative at best, replied, "I didn't have much to trust you on."
The three of the four adults behind the Guardsman gasped. The short, redheaded woman looked like he had said an awful insult. The man with no hair cringed. The man with short, thick hair shook his head. Letting the words pass over him, the Guardsman turned behind him, and nodded to the others.
"Clean up the evidence. We can't leave footprints," the Guardsman noted.
With a weary look to one another, the men and women surrounding the six and pig split apart, pulling away the bodies and lifting them to shoulders, carried off into the shadows. As they split, the Guardsman turned back.
"I told you," he snarled, emotion returning to the voice of Zander, "I was going to get your family out of here safely!"
"Well, they were waiting, weren't they!" Dipper snapped back.
With a flash of his hand, Zander removed the mask. Dipper blinked, and glanced around. To his surprise, the other's had all vanished, along with the beaten mercenaries.
Zander, with heat behind his words, snapped out, "Dipper, they had an ambush waiting for you! Not your father, or your mother – You and Mabel! That's what Graupner wants! You two!"
Dipper opened his mouth in instant retaliation. Yet words failed him, and he looked away, his mouth locked shut. His mother, just behind him, quietly said, "Is that freakin' Zander Maximillion?"
Ignoring the comment, Zander told Dipper, "You need to realize that he, for whatever reason, sees you as primary threat! He is, at least, treating you like one. He's willing to risk open confrontation in this setting to get at you! He is not the type to back down either, is he!? He'll keep coming back, again and again, and if he thought that shooting your father here," Zander pointed at Jenson, who flinched, "Then he would have!"
Zander leaned back, a hand in his face as his frustration bled away. "Dipper," he said slowly, "I... I know you don't want to like me. And... you shouldn't." Dipper glanced up to Zander, his expression softening. "I'm not asking for you to be friends with me, okay? Just help me help you save the world. Then... then you will never have to deal with me again, okay? I promise."
Mabel, who did not like the sound of that one bit, cried out, "But Zander-"
"Mabel, you're free to feel how you'd like," Zander held a hand up, "But Dipper needs to make his own choices."
Dipper stared at the man before him. Tall, clad in a cloak, and without his mask, it was a stark reminder to why Dipper distrusted the man before him. Living a life of two identities and using people based on those facets. And that was just the few Dipper knew of. There could be more. He could have armies of people he pretended to be. He likely had, over the years, many identities.
Yet the deeply tired look in those eyes did not lie to Dipper. Zander wanted peace. It was hard to stay angry at someone who just wanted you safe.
Dipper extended his hand. "Partners?" he asked wearily.
Zander reached out and clasped the hand. "Partners," he nodded. As the hands broken, Zander eyed Dipper. "So, what was it you were muttering? I saw you saying something earlier."
"Uh, coming up with a plan," Dipper quickly lied. Zander nodded slowly; his eyes locked on Dipper.
Soos piped up, "Well, we're all alive! Well, except Wendy."
"Soos," Wendy grumbled, "I'm not really trying to make that public knowledge."
"Oops," Mabel winced. "Sorry. Guilty here too."
Zander consoled her quickly, "There's nothing to be ashamed of, Wendy." The four looked to him, and he softly said to her, "What you're dealing with is not your fault. Remember that, okay?" he reminded her, a smile as gentle as they could have imagined grown onto his lips.
A little uncertain to his sudden kindness, Wendy nodded, "Uh... okay," as she eyed him carefully.
"Now," Zander sighed, and brushed the front of his cloak, "Let's get this over with so you guys can continue your mission."
Jenson, walking closer to put a hand on his kids shoulders, "Wait, mission?"
"Over with?" Delilah gasped. "I've been having a blast! Well, except for the part I was nearly killed a few times."
Zander eyed the two parents. "Sorry. They have some obligations, and the more people we have to protect, like you, the more dangerous it'll become. I'll let you two say your goodbyes," Zander told the parents quietly, "Then you two need to come with me."
"Okay," Dipper solemnly nodded. Turning to his parents, he and Mabel stared up at their shaken and roused parents.
Mister Pines cleared out his throat. "So," Jenson said to Dipper, "I believe I owe you an apology."
"Dad?" Dipper quietly asked.
The father squirmed in his spot. "You were telling the truth the entire time. All of it was real," he chuckled, "Wasn't it?"
Dipper looked to his sister, who smirked. He merely shrugged. "Something like that," Dipper smiled.
"I'm sorry," their father mumbled.
"Don't be," Dipper sighed, "I think if I had been you, I wouldn't have believed me either."
"That's not... well," their father cleared his throat, "I guess... yeah. I don't know how this has all put you two in a dangerous position, but–"
"Jen," Delilah quietly said, "The kids saved us. They're on a mission to save the world, but as long as we can be found, we're a liability to them."
"Delilah, please," he held a hand up, "I can follow hints when I'm given them. I suppose," he turned to the revealed Guardsman, "We're going to follow you to some secret bunker and be safe until this is all over?"
Zander cocked an eyebrow. "Not exactly bunker, but safe, yes."
The father nodded, and swallowed. His eyes watered as in the night, he studied his two children. "How did you two grow up so fast? You're already be saving the world," he noted, his voice cracking. The twins ran forward, giving him a large hug. He let out a small, watery chuckle. "I missed these," he admitted, "Three-person hugs."
"Huggles," Mabel corrected him.
He let go, wiping his eyes. "Well," he said, leaning up all the way, "I supposed we ought to let you go."
Dipper, cheerful at the tenderness, told his father, "Well, can't have mom and dad holding hands with you while you save the world, can you?"
"Oh, look at you," Mabel slapped his shoulder, "that's the sort of stuff I say!"
"Mister Pines, Miss Pines," Zander nodded to the two of them, "I have my friends with a car down the road. We'll take you and get you the tickets to Wyoming."
"Wyoming?" Jenson repeated. "What's in Wyoming?"
"Nothing but cows and moose I bet," Delilah puffed.
"And safety," Zander assured them, "Please." He waved them leave, and with one glanced back to the twins, the parents made their leave down the street, side by side. Zander turned back, sighing. "Well... I'm glad to see divorced parents can be civil."
"They're not bad with one another anymore," Mabel grunted, "More like chilly indifference. The sort of thing Dipper's great at," she grinned devilishly at her brother.
"Well," Zander cut in as Dipper made to retaliate, "After you patch up Wendy, I've got a new place for you to go. It's a drive, so get ready."
"Joy," Dipper breathed. "Where?"
"Nevada," Zander said, and slowly placed the mask on. "There you'll find your next Starkissed. Be careful on this one. Whatever it is, it's mobile."
"Last time it was vampires," Wendy grunted, "What could be worse?" The mask of the Guardsman eyed her emotionlessly. Wendy eyed him, and reminded him, "I can't see what face you make with that on."
Zander told them, "I don't think you ever want that question really answered. And I'd tell you if I knew. But I have work I have to do elsewhere still, because there is more than just collecting these stones to save the world from magical destruction."
"Then we'd better not be lazy about it!" Mabel grinned. Grabbing the shoulders of Soos and Dipper, she pulled them together and smiled. "Don't worry Zander! We'll make you proud!"
The masked figure nodded, and turned away from them, the spear in his hand shrinking and thinning away until it slipped out of sight like fabric. Before long, he was gone- slipped into the night.
"So, uh," Wendy mumbled, "Not to be that girl, but I'm covered in bullet holes, and I think I hear police sirens coming. We should probably..."
"Go now, yeah," Dipper nodded, and the four plus pig turned and made for their cars.
Mabel grumbled, "Man."
"What?" Dipper asked, incredulously, "We just saved mom and dad, and now they're safe! What's to whine about?"
Looking back towards her house, Mabel moaned, "Dad's going to make me fix the floors and the fence now."
Like many characters, this wont be the last of the Parent Pines. That being said, we won't be seeing them for a while. Season 3 is a long story of growing and surviving, and the Parents have their own journey to take now.
I feel like I just had a repeat of Episode 3 from Season 1. Every time Graupner gets his work in, dark things happens. Cuts Dipper, tries killing people at a convention, burns Dipper, and now shoots Wendy with angry mercs. I swear, this guy is just trouble. And now, Alvis is starting to inspire and be inspired. A feedback loop of evil inspiration! D:
So, for those of you wondering, yes, I'm going to be contacting those who were interested in my audio-recreation of this story. Expect by the end of the week solid answers regarding the creation process.
Next episode will be taking a step back into some more ridiculous stuff. Also, for the FIRST TIME EVER, the twins are not the main characters. I'll give you three guesses as to who the main two are going to be in the upcoming episode. Just as feely, especially since we're getting some different perspectives, but no shortage of zaniness in the upcoming "Home, Home on the Rage."
(A stampede of Bison flatten EZB utterly. Spoilers. Oops.)
In the expensive downtown hotel, the door to the priciest overlook suite slammed shut, and Alvis snapped to his feet without a moment to lose.
Striding into the room with a heavy pant and furious gaze, Graupner Kinley made for the closest glass on the table. Ignoring any contents it had, he shattered it against the ground. He then roared, and shoved the table over, spilling books, apples, and silverwear to the floor. Even as the objects clattered and fell to the floor, he stood there, screaming at the mess, fury expelled onto the inanimate objects.
Alvis said nothing, instead stared at Graupner with his best composure. He would say nothing to the man unless spoken. This was still the game; One of master and apprentice. It was one he had long since become a professional at. It would be only a moment longer before Graupner had a place to act like he was in control. Finally, Gruapner held a hand to his face and sighed. He looked to Alvis, patiently awaiting him.
"They lost them," Graupner mused with sardonic rage, "Trained mercenaries lost two fifteen-year old's who've had as much training as specialized karate!" he roared, his voice echoing about the room.
Alvis noted, "They must have been unprepared."
"Of course they were!" Gruapner shouted. "They were intercepted by the Paths!" Alvis turned his head directly to the Warlock. This had been a title not heard before. Graupner sighed, and again put his hand in his face, leaning on a chair he had yet to topple. "The Paths are these self-appointed guardians of elements and things. Martial artists who can learn the secrets of life, or something."
"That sounds a lot like that one movie," Alvis snickered, "Evotar- the Last Spacebender."
"Yes, yes," Graupner nodded wearily, still slumping against the chair, "Ridiculous."
Alvis noticed the posture and look of his supposed master. "Are you okay?" he asked. "You appear tired."
Graupner shot up. "Well, you're wrong!" Graupner snapped, suddenly standing. "I'm fine! I don't need to sleep."
"Ah," Alvis gave a small curt nod, "My apologies. I'm still ignorant to your powers."
Graupner breathed, his anger slowing. It seemed that whatever humility Alvis imposed was quickly successful against the hot-tempered spell-caster. Graupner finally straightened up, calming from his agitated state. He saw the mess he had made and smiled. "How went your study?"
"Completed," Alvis grinned.
Graupner looked back to him, his one stone-eye shimmering. "All of it?" Gruapner asked.
"All of them."
Graupner demanded, "Then tell me the context of an evocation spell."
Alvis smirked. "The use of an elemental conjuration of power in its simplest form, evocation brings forth the most primeval of elemental magical forces. Effective, but dangerous."
Graupner leaned closer, not entirely believing his ears. He stared at the man. "And the uses of the blinking spell?" he requested.
Alvis answered, "The further away it is, the more risky it is. Higher sight-accuracy make better blinkers, but the suggested range for a blink spell can only consist between one to sixty feet. Past that, you risk teleportation on thin air and falling from heights."
Graupner frowned as his mouth fell open. "The uses of blackfire?"
"The written sources recommend not using it," Alvis smirked, "Too deadly. If you lose control, it can consume you."
"How?" Graupner snarled. "I gave you this assignment yesterday! There are thirty-two books!"
"I have good memory," Alvis smiled as pleasantly as he could, resisting the urge to sneer.
Graupner eyed him suspiciously. Alvis restrained his own smile. This would be another time he was thankful for his grand photographic memory. It had made learning to forge signatures and remember precise passwords to the company extremely easy.
The Warlock smirked, and massaged his throat. The smile was a hollow thing, like ice over a dried-up pond. "Good. You'll learn fast, or at least I hope," he admitted. He then adjusted himself, and got to business. "I need a larger collection of men next time. A private force of ten was taken down by the paths."
"It can be arranged. Would fifty do?" Alvis asked.
Graupner shook his head.
"More?" Alvis repeated. "How about... a hundred?"
"More."
"More?!" Alvis gasped. Graupner stepped closer, his crystal glowing dangerously. Alvis nodded and let his head bow. He corrected himself quickly, "More it will be, then. I... would suggest then, if possible, we consider finding alternatives to paying them. These mercenaries still cost us money, and the money you're talking about is, uh-"
Graupner scowled, "Fine! Like how?"
Alvis' words stumbled. "Ah... well..." he then felt his performance reach it's best. He feigned discovery, and looked to Graupner with faux uncertainty, "Perhaps... creating a cult?"
Graupner stared at him. The words slipped so easily from the man's mouth that it could have been the guess on the soon-to-be-weather. Yet Graupner slowly smiled. His scarred eye squeezed itself as his mouth became an ear-to-ear leer. "Yeah," Graupner nodded, "A cult sounds just–"
"Perfect?" Alvis suggested.
Graupner glared at him. "Yes. That. Besides, I know a thing or two about suggestion spells. Had a little training over the summer."
"Maybe then," Alvis reached over to the fallen books, and lifted one of the older texts, "We could begin with someone who knows a thing or two about cultish expectations?"
"What d-do you mean?" Graupner asked, "I just told you I know how to command minds."
Alvis grinned, "You did, indeed. I merely suggest that we look on how to create an organization around a person of greatness," and he opened the page, "So, we can ask an expert."
In the pages before Graupner, a large pentagram laid encased in a multi-symbol circle before him, and a triangle sat firmly in the center of the page, a single eye open and soullessly staring ahead. One word stood out in the masses of text: Demon.
Qeb jxph lc x jxk, ybkq yv qfjb xka txomba yv mxfk
efabp pbzobqp xka zlsbop pzxop ql yxo qeb elmb lc dxfk
Oba xka qlrde, yilka xka ptbbq, plrip qexq xob cbiilt
lkb hbbmp qeb pbzobq ql jbka cibpe xka plri jbiilt
-AND-
Hliib, ollprmt uli Yroo? Sv dzh z gzw yfhb, yfg R xlfow uroo rm gsvm dsvm blf zhp zilfmw. Nb mznv? Dsb, rg'h dzh gsv kzhg. Gsv Wvnlm lu gsv Kzhg.