I know this is one of the most annoying things to read in an A/N, but sorry for the late update yet again. I've come to the conclusion that I can't promise a weekly update schedule or even a consistent one. But I can at least say that I won't let it get much longer than a month at most. I'm having a great time writing this, but I'm going to put things out at my own pace.

Anyway, hope you like this one!

Chapter Eight: Freaks

Pacifica has lied to herself for most of her life about many things.

Often, it involved looking in the mirror and forcing a smile. Affirming quietly that she's happy. With herself, with her parents, with her lifestyle.

You know, I actually like seafoam green better.

My parents were right, I'm too old for stuffed animals.

That cat was so cute! But...yeah, my parents have a point. It'll just distract me. I need to focus on climbing the social ladder.

Tiffany and Aubry are good influences. I need to keep them around at all times.

I don't feel bad about making fun of that Mabel girl. She's weird, so she deserves it!

I do NOT like Dipper Pines. At all. He's a total loser and a freak!

It was a constant overpowering of her natural instinct. Lie after lie after lie. But as time went on, the truth began to prevail.

And it all started with him.

If Pacifica had a gallery of her most core, important memories displayed before her in a white room, she knows exactly what would be at the top, supersized and bordered with diamond framing.

A flickering flashlight in a dark room, every generation of Northwests' corruption mocking her. The realization that she'd end up just like each and every one of them hitting her like a ton of bricks. There was nothing she could do to change or reverse the effect, either. It was too late.

Then there he was, a hand on her shoulder and offering a smile.

"It's not too late."

She felt a flutter in her chest that night that she hadn't felt before. At first, she just threw it off as a fluke. Something she ate, maybe. But later when they spread mud all over the lobby floor, she felt it again, and knew it had a source. The boy with the stupid pine tree hat.

That's when she told herself the biggest lie of all. But the difference was that for the first time, she couldn't convince herself to believe it.

Now here she is, several months later, with that same fluttering in her chest. All from a few words.

"All I want to do is keep you safe."

What's wrong with her? Having feelings for a nerd? Pacifica may be on a path to bettering herself, but that doesn't mean she has to lose her mind! Dipper Pines smells like trees and book pages! He chases ghosts and freaks for fun! His family are all weirdos! He has no sense of fashion or money, or anything to do with high-class society! He's the exact opposite of everything she's used to!

She loves it.

Plus, it's not like she can take all the blame for feeling this way. It's mostly his fault, if anything, for somehow managing to be effortlessly adorable. Time away from Gravity Falls had been very kind to him. He's grown a whole two inches taller than her (he better not tease her about it, or she'll sue) His shoulders are broader, his limbs leaner and stronger, his brown eyes warmer, his voice deeper, his hair poking out from beneath his hat in messy, tufted chocolate curls, which...she supposes it's always done that, but just looking at it makes her want to remove that hat and run her fingers atop his head.

Sure, she's seen better looking boys at private school and parties where important people's sons come out of obligation. Perfect hair, perfect white teeth, the perfect foundation for a ripped body, perfect charm, perfect everything.

Pacifica is long tired of perfect.

Besides, none of those perfect boys would ever take the time to listen to her, comfort her, talk back to her dad on her behalf, or risk their life against a bunch of werethings to keep her safe.

"So, where's Mabel?" She asks, glad they're in the hall and moving. She wasn't sure how much longer she could stand being that close to him on her bed of all places. A few more nerdy comments and smiles directed toward her, and she might've done something stupid. Like...hug him, or finally admit that she missed him.

"She decided to sit this one out," He explained in a murmur, "Had to give Waddles a bath."

His voice was all over the place. She looked over her shoulder to see him looking around at the paintings on the walls curiously.

"How'd you even get inside?"

"Your mom was out front," He replied, brown eyes quickly darting towards hers, widening when he saw her expression change. "She, uh...is she alright? She seemed a little-"

"Drunk?"

"Uh, well, I was gonna say out of it but that works."

Pacifica turned back around, pushing her tongue against the side of her mouth. "Like you've heard, things got bad after that stupid triangle. Both of them dealt with it in different ways, but both of them never want to talk about it. Like it never even happened."

He didn't say anything. She wasn't bothered by that. In fact, it felt a little better to just say it and not get a response, because whatever it was, negative or postitive, even coming from Dipper, wouldn't change a thing. Her father would still be as delusional and stubborn as ever, and her mother would be a catatonic vegetable.

They both descended the stairs, with Pacifica leading the way and opening the door for herself. Immediately, she noticed her mother still sitting on the porch in her corner view, wine glass in hand. She didn't even stop her march until reaching the courtyard, only to wait for Dipper.

He emerged from the house, looking between her and her mother ambiguously, "Should we...?"

Pacifica flicked her hand dismissively, "Nah, we're okay. Can you turn the outside lights on? There next to the door on the inside."

Dipper obliged, reaching his hand in quickly and flipping all switches. From the front corners of the cabin, the night disappeared under bright rays of light, shooting white beams at the grass. The full moon helped too, offering its own natural illumination beyond the man-made machines.

"Good enough for your wizard square?"

Dipper came to her level and nodded, "Should be, but the square itself has to be precise. Would you mind holding this flashlight for me?" On cue, he whipped out a yellow cylinder from his vest, holding it out to her.

She tucked a hand on her hip, "What am I, your sidekick?"

He misinterpreted, which was equally entertaining to their usual banter. "No! I didn't mean it like- I mean, I said we were partners, right? Mystery Trio? You can do the spray paint if you want, b-but it has to be perfect! There can't be a flaw in the lines at all!"

She shook her head, smiling as she nabbed the flashlight, "I'm messing with you, dork. I don't know anything about spray paint."

He eased up, "Oh...well, yeah, makes sense. I'll uh...get started then."

Pacifica rolled her eyes. Sometimes it was too easy to mess with him. "How do you fit so much in your vest pockets, anyway? A big journal, a can of spray paint, and now a flashlight? What, is it bottomless or something?"

Dipper shook the can, "I've always had Mom buy them like that," He started the process, the hiss of the paint matching the volume of his voice, "Before Gravity Falls, I'd put trading cards in there, Sibling Bros books, little time-wasting games...It just came in handy when summer came."

There it was again. Mom. Mabel had mentioned their mother too, and the fact that she thought her and their father were getting a divorce. Part of Pacifica wanted to bring it up, maybe comfort him for a change, but she instantly killed that notion. That's crossing boundaries. Pacifica doesn't want anyone pressing her about her parents, so why do the same to someone else?

So she settles for silence instead. It stays that way for a while, and she doesn't mind watching him focus, furrowing his eyebrows and tightening his jaw in concentration, the tiniest beads of sweat forming on his forehead, threatening to drop and ruin the paint. It's a comfortable silence.

If she hadn't realized it before when he made the same strained face reading that book, talking about category two ghosts, she's certainly realizing it now. This isn't just some hobby, phase, or boyish desire to be like his mad scientist uncle. He genuinely loves this. Even the boring preparation that comes with it.

Making a (pretty much) perfect square turns out to be easier than it seems, because it didn't take Dipper very long to go around the house and close the gap. Once finished, he stood up proudly and wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his hand, still holding the can. "Nice. Now all that's left is the symbols. Which...I forgot. Dang it, I'm gonna have to look at the Journal again!"

Before Dipper could do anything though, they heard the doorknob to the front door spin and zip open angrily. Dipper jumped, but Pacifica let out an annoyed puff of breath, well aware of what was about to happen.

"What are you two doing out here in the dark?!" Her father shouted, "Those...things will be here any minute!"

Pacifica rounded on him, her tone already fiery. "We know! We're just trying to set up a transpurtent barrier!"

"Transparent barrier," Dipper corrected.

"You're what?! There's no time for nonsense! Get inside, n-" He abruptly stopped, fury coming over him in a way that hid his eyes and mouth under his thick facial hair. "Did you spray paint my yard, boy?"

Pacifica stepped in front of Dipper, "He's only trying to help! It's a spell that'll keep the werethings out!"

"It's just an incantation for a dome that'll protect the cabin, sir." Dipper explained, forcing out the formality at the end.

"And it requires you to deface my property?"

"The incantation won't work without an outline for the barrier. The paint should go away the next time the grass is mowed."

"Lars doesn't do that for another three days! How on Earth am I supposed to live with a giant square around my home? Our grass isn't some old rickety water tower to put graffiti on!"

"Uh...well-"

Her father threw his hands up, "Unbelievable!" His attention turned to her still mindless mother, "And you just sat there, allowing this?!"

If Pacifica were standing a few feet further from the porch, she might not have heard her mother. "Sorry, dear."

"Sorry?! Your daughter and that delinquent are out here defacing our lawn and you just sit there?!"

Pacifica stomped her foot, "Don't yell at her!"

"Hush! You're the reason this is happening! Bringing him around here carelessly when we could've had this matter dealt with long ago!"

"What would you have done?!"

"Hired private security! Animal control! Just about anything else!"

Pacifica made sure he could see her eye roll, "Whatever. We have more symbols to mark, so if you don't mind?"

He remained in perfect stiff posture, but she saw a habitual hand twitch towards his pocket, ready to grab a bell that wasn't there and ring it until she complies. Only she wouldn't. That stopped working a long time ago.

The two Northwests glared at each other challengingly until her father conceded, snorting haughtily and retreating inside the cabin. Her mother didn't move, as per usual.

Pacifica gritted her teeth for a moment, her face reflecting the anger inside her chest, reaching its peak like an erupting volcano. He never changes. Even in the face of danger, he still cares about the stupid 'rules' that they should've forgotten ages ago.

But when she turns around, the grit and anger is gone. She puts on a forced smile for Dipper, "So, those symbols?"

He stood there throughout the process, watching the argument with an open mouth. He quickly shook his head, "Y-Yeah, of course." Gently, he took the flashlight from her, "I'll take care of the rest. Get inside."

Normally, she'd spit back a half-serious jab about how she doesn't need protecting, but her body betrayed her. She handed the tool over without a word and stormed after her father, not bothering to close the front door behind her.

He didn't go far. His back was turned to her, hands death gripping his hips.

"What's wrong with you?!"

He snapped around, eyes wide and nostrils flared, "Me? What's wrong with you?! For nearly a year at every turn, you've disobeyed me, talked back to me, thrown away every single good thing I've given you...turned into a heathen for lack of a better word! And it all started when him and his sister came to town! Don't you see? If you don't turn back now, you'll end up just like them!"

"Maybe that's exactly what I want." She crossed her arms, "Did you ever think of that?"

"Oh, so a low-class existence is what you want? Minimum wage jobs at a tourist trap working for a conman? Misfits for friends? Constantly looking over your shoulder for other worldly freaks?"

"Sounds a lot better than what I had."

"Have you completely lost it?!" Both of his arms vibrated with frustration, "I don't even know who I'm talking to anymore!"

"No, you don't! And part of the problem is that if you actually talked to me, you'd understand that I'm not the same girl as before! But no, you never want to acknowledge what happened, you just wanna pin the blame on me! You're the one that invested in that freaky triangle, so you're the one that cost this family everything!"

She's argued with her father before, especially in the past year, but not like this. It's the loudest she's gotten. But the truth couldn't be contained anymore. It may be a worthless effort to get through to him and at least make him see sense, but it's not even about trying, it's about getting her grievances off her chest.

Some of it must've worked, because the outburst stole his tone. He sighed long and hard, "Listen. It's not uncommon for people, especially teenagers to become disinterested in their lives. To want a little change." He approached her and bent down on one knee, looking her in the eye. Pacifica wanted to just push him over on his back. She'd seen this tactic plenty of times. Bad cop comes first, then good, understanding cop, playing at her emotions. "It's also not uncommon for teenagers to lash out at their fathers. When I was a boy, I questioned my father's methods too."

Pacifica's nose scrunched a bit at that. She could count on one hand how many times her father had talked about his childhood, and none of it involved rebellious attitude. "You talked back to Grandpa Auldman?"

"A couple of times," He admitted, "But he corrected me, just as I'm trying to correct you. Which...I know you think I only do it to be mean, but that's not the case. You may not see it now, but I'm only looking out for your best interests. I want you to be successful."

She had to admit to herself...the tactic was a good one. Her father had gained some new tricks. But she knew false sincerity when she heard it.

"But some things are more important than money, dad. Like...friends. Real friends."

"Friends are temporary. Family is forever, dear. The Northwest name still means something!"

Perhaps it wasn't manipulation. Deep in his eyes, Pacifica could see faint hints of an earnest attempt, hidden behind teachings passed through generations. Maybe he actually wanted what's best for her, but he would never know the right way to go about it, because he knows no different.

She realized in that second that he's exactly what she would've become if left untreated. If no other way had been shown to her and she only followed a linear path.

"I don't care anymore, okay? I don't...really know what I care about now, or what's gonna happen, but I know that I can't go back to the way I was."

The understanding father quickly turned to the disappointed father. Anything he was about to retort with was halted when his eyes left their lock to glance behind her. She turned around to find Dipper standing at the doorway, unlit flashlight, Journal, and sword all piled into his hands awkwardly.

"Um...barrier's up, so we're safe. For now."

Her father stepped past them to peer out the house, "I don't see any barrier."

"Like I said, transparent. But you can see it if you get really close. Trust me, I made sure everything was perfect."

"I'm not trusting anything that I didn't see happen," He stated, leaving the house momentarily to get her mother, practically dragging her near comatose body inside and closing the door with a push of his foot. "But since you're so confident, boy, stay out here and keep watch. We're going in the panic bunker. Come along, Pacifica."

"I'm not going down there, I'm staying here with Dipper."

He laughed humorlessly at that, pulling up a hidden trapdoor at the foot of the staircase, "Don't be silly. This is your safety we're talking about, now come on!"

"What about his safety? You'd just leave him out here with the werethings?"

"The boy says he can take care of it, so I believe him. Besides, he's well equipped and you aren't. I won't repeat myself again, let's go."

She held her ground, "No. I'm not going down there."

"Pacifica Elise Northwest! This isn't up for debate! Come here this instant!"

"No! You can't tell me what to do anymore!"

His patience reaching its peak, he smacked his hand against the floor, seething at both of them. She could tell his mind was racing, running through the options. He could try to physically move her, but she was prepared to fight tooth and nail. The only downside would be if Dipper tried to help in that scenario, in which he might get hurt. Not that her father would ever hurt him...but, would he? The fact that Pacifica can't say for sure is scary.

Thankfully, he settled for an accusatory finger point at Dipper, "Are you happy now, boy? You've completely rotted her brain of any sense!"

She expected him to fire back with some witty remark or even a casual shrug, but surprisingly, Dipper looked more uncomfortable than angry, finding something interesting to focus on at his feet and fiddling with the items in his hands.

Her father gave her one last disapproving look, then sunk beneath the living room, closing the bunker's door behind him.

The arguing was over. No voices spoke for a solid minute. Just the sound of the crackling fire permeated the room.

Pacifica felt like she was going to lose it right then. Her entire body trembled, her lip quivered, her eyes prickled. For the sake of remaining composed in front of Dipper though, she barely managed to fight it down. The last thing she needed was to appear weak after claiming she was going to weather the werething storm with him.

"Sorry about that," She muttered, walking over to the fireplace and squatting down to a cross-legged sitting position. She couldn't care less how unladylike it seemed. "He can be such...I mean just..."

"The worst?" He offered, putting the items down and matching her position, five feet away.

"I thought I was the worst."

She hadn't meant for that to make him feel bad, but it probably came off as such. She was too tired to make a smirk go with the statement, packaging it with humorous intent. Instead, it projected the complete opposite way.

He scooted a foot closer, able to reach out and touch her shoulder if he wanted. "Far from it, Pacifica."

There he goes again, using more of that nerd magic. Somehow, with just a few words, paired with that voice of his (has she pointed out how deep it's gotten?) he's managed to rattle her in the best way possible.

She changes the subject, "So, is this what you and Mabel did all last summer?"

"Pretty much. Remember all those guys at the Shack during Weirdmageddon? The gnomes, the Larry King head, the video game character...those were all things we dealt with."

Pacifica smiled, leaning back against the fireplace framing. "My parents...literally saw the end of the world, but they act like it never happened. The entire town acts like it never happened. They think...I don't know."

"They think it makes it better if they don't." He finished for her. "I get it. Seriously, I do. When Mabel and I went home, well, we had to explain everything to our parents, but other than that, no one had a clue. And we...we were the same exact way before we came here. We lived our lives, thinking one thing, then everything changed. We changed." Pacifica watched him, unblinking, as he brought a knee to his chest and hugged it. "It's weird. I feel like for twelve years, I just existed, and I only started living when I came here."

"Pfft, I've lived here my whole life and never really knew how weird it was. I don't even know why my dad stays here, since he cares about status so much."

"To prey on the weak minded?" Dipper suggested innocently.

"Probably. No, definitely."

He grabbed at the back of his hat, which Pacifica was beginning to gather as a nervous tick. He smiled sheepishly, "For what it's worth...I think it's really cool that you're standing up to him the way you are."

"Thanks. And thanks for...you know, helping me with the werething problem."

"Hey, it's no trouble. That's what friends are for, right?"

Yet another comment to pleasantly rattle her, but she wouldn't be shaken visibly. "Oh, so we're friends now?"

"I'd like to think so. I mean, you did sign my See You Next Summer card with a little heart above your name if I remember right."

Pacifica blushed, "That was a mistake! I messed up on the I in my name!"

"C'mon now, friends don't lie to each other."

She whipped her head away, "Shut up."

Stupid Dipper. What does he know about my signature? I totally didn't mean to put a heart in my name!

"And...if we're gonna be friends, maybe we should know a little more about each other."

She almost missed what he said, she'd been so caught in her head. "What?"

The nervous ticks started again. Dipper lowered the brim of his hat to the point where it blocked his eyes and nose, his fingers picking at the hem of his shirt. "Well, it's just...I'm still getting used to the real you. And you know, friends hang out sometimes right? It would probably help to, I don't know, know the kind of stuff you're into. F-For Mabel's sake! She's a big planner, so I'll just relay the information to her."

Pacifica suddenly felt better about her own anxiousness. Compared to Dipper, she's completely composed. "As if I'd hang out with you. But Mabel...yeah, I guess going to the mall with her wasn't so bad. You can start there."

"Okay, so...fashion?"

"Bingo."

"Um...mini-golf?"

"Obviously. I like stuff I'm good at."

"Parties?"

"Duh. I'm literally known as the Party Queen."

The further she confirmed his guesses, the more confused he got. "But I thought those were things your parents forced you into. Stuff meant to impress other rich people."

"Oh, it's stuff they made me do, but it's not like I never had fun. They just took it to another level."

"Well, what's one thing you like that your parents didn't influence?"

One thing came to Pacifica's mind off the bat, but she'd be horribly embarrassed if she admitted it, especially to him. The amount of teasing ammo he'd gain from her admission would be infinite.

But his face was so earnest...and she liked the airy feeling she got when she opened up to him. "If I tell you this, you better promise that you won't make fun of me."

"I won't."

"I mean it, Dipper. One offhand comment and I'm suing."

He put his hands up, "I promise! Just tell me!"

She couldn't believe what she was about to do. Never in a million years did she think she would reveal one of her deepest secrets, but she figured with change, comes a looser mental lock. "There's this...video game. Bloodcraft: Overdeath. I'm...well, I guess I play it sometimes."

Dipper perked up, momentarily forgetting about hiding his face. "You play Bloodcraft?! That's so cool! I play that game all the time back home!"

Pacifica smirked proudly, "I'm a level one hundred deathslayer. Platinum rank in League play."

Dipper's jaw dropped, "You're a level one hundred deathslayer?! That's a master rank! I'm only a level forty-four necromancer, and I play all the time! You must be like...pro, or something!"

It took all of her willpower to not beam and gush about her strategies and advanced mechanics. Since the hobby had to be kept secret, she had no one to talk to about it, resulting in years of sealed knowledge. But she couldn't risk sounding too dorky. "What can I say? I'm just naturally gifted."

"You're a nerd at heart! I knew it!"

Pacifica balked, "Wait a second, don't-"

"Don't even deny it! You have to be to get that good! You've got a nerd side to you, Pacifica!"

"That's it! I'm suing! I'm suing all of you!"

"Please. You can't make a case out of that. What would you even call it?"

"Defacing! Uh...defaming! Defamation!"

Dipper burst out in laughter, doubling over to his side and holding his stomach, not having a care in the world for Pacifica's ego. She huffed, "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. That's just what I get."

"Haha! Oh, come on, hey! Hey, listen, I'm not teasing. I think that's really cool! How the heck did you manage to hide that from your parents, though?"

"I keep the Z-Box hidden in my closet. I always played for a couple of hours after they fell asleep."

Dipper wiped the corners of his eyes, sitting up straight, "Well that's definitely something your parents wouldn't influence."

"Yeah. What about you?"

"Huh?"

"What about you? What's something I don't know about Mr. Paranormal?"

"Oh, uh...you don't wanna know my secrets. They're a lot less cool than being a Bloodcraft pro."

Pacifica rolled her eyes, "If you tell me, I might think about dropping the lawsuit. Trust me, you don't wanna go to jail in this town."

Dipper sighed, struggling with the task. Pacifica watched him carefully, wondering if she overstepped a boundary. She was still getting used to the concept of honesty, and while it was hard for her, she figured a sensitive dweeb like Dipper would have no trouble revealing the depths of his little nerdy heart.

After half a minute of silence, Dipper removed his hat and held it tentatively in his hands, staring at it. "I guess I can tell you why everyone calls me Dipper."

Pacifica cocked her head, "Wait, Dipper isn't your real name?"

"You really think someone would name their kid Dipper? C'mon, my parents aren't mean."

"I knew a kid at private school named Chip. It's possible."

"Well, not for me. My real name is Mason. Normal, average ole' Mason." Taking his right hand, he pushed up a bundle of hair, unveiling a red birthmark at the center of his forehead. "That's where Dipper comes from."

Pacifica squinted. The birthmark wasn't just a blot on his skin. It didn't just resemble, it looked identical to the Ursa Major constellation. Otherwise known as...

"Oh. I see."

He released the hair, "Yeah. Pretty weird, right? I guess it makes sense, though. Grunkle Ford has two extra fingers after all, so bodily anomalies run in the family."

Mason. Mason Pines. Mason and Mabel. Pacifica never heard anyone call him anything other than Dipper, so she never thought there was anything more. Just an odd name for an odd person. A bit like herself, in a way. Pacifica wasn't exactly a normal name like Anna or Emma.

Her parents taught her how to read people to get inside their head and take the upper hand, but to level with them...it's a different story. She can tell that this is a vulnerable thing for Dipper to reveal. She understands why, because if sitting in his shoes, looking at her, she'd probably feel the same way, given the history. The old her would make a joke about the birthmark. In fact, her first instinct was to, but luckily, she bit back.

Maybe she wouldn't have to worry so much about which side would win now. It seems like one's getting stronger than the other, after all.

"Mason's okay," She said, "But I like Dipper better. Has more personality."

She couldn't face him quite yet; in fear she said the wrong thing. That's one thing she didn't like about changing so much; everything she said or did she wasn't sure of. It was like a weird trial and error on life.

"Really?" He asked after a long pause, "You...don't think I'm a freak or anything?"

Yeah, but not in a bad way.

Probably not the right words. "Of course I do. But I thought that before I saw the birthmark."

Well, she said it anyway, and in an even worse fashion. Great.

Dipper didn't seem to take it hard though, "What do you mean?"

This time she did face him. He looked more attentive than insulted. "So what if you're a freak? That makes you different than normal, right? Normal's boring."

"Yeah, but normal keeps you from getting messed with. It may come as a shock, but Mabel and I aren't exactly super popular back home."

Inwardly, Pacifica was surprised. Not with Dipper so much, but rather Mabel. With her personality, she could draw just about any crowd and easily be the leader of a clique. It was one of the reasons Pacifica used to dislike her so much. She was jealous of the effortless magnetism she exuded.

"You're telling me that your wild mess of a sister doesn't have any friends? I thought you said that we're not supposed to lie to each other."

He chuckled, "Okay, correction; Mabel has a lot of friends, but they're just like her. She's not in with the cheerleaders or the rich girls, so I don't count her as popular. Even though...technically, she is, I guess. Maybe I just include her with me to make myself feel better."

"Being popular's overrated. A lot of stupid pressure to keep up appearances." She flicked her hand dismissively, "It's a dumb thing to want."

"It was weird, though. I went back to Piedmont with all these crazy experiences, feeling stronger and tougher than I've ever felt. But...no one would ever believe me if I told them all the things we did. Only Mabel and I could really share the experience, and at first, that was enough to keep me going, but then the nightmares came...and it just didn't feel fair for all our problems to be kept secret. We almost died. All of us."

"I know," She whispered. "And what's worse is the people who actually know don't wanna talk about it either. It's totally unfair."

Dipper pushed himself closer to her. Their shoulders were close to touching now. "But at least we have each other, right? All the people that went through Weirdmageddon. We have that connection."

"Yeah. I guess I'm a freak too, then. I mean, how else would you describe someone that leaves behind all the money in the world to work at a gross diner?"

"Someone that wants to be better." Dipper affirmed; eyes locked on her. Pacifica recognized the look, because she'd seen it in the eyes of grown-ups at her parents' parties. Respect. She hoped one day she could earn something like that from people like them. But now with it coming from Dipper...none of them matter. This feels like more of an accomplishment.

With the way she felt, certain words might come off the tongue now. "Dipper...I-"

His nose wrinkled, attention snapping, "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

All of a sudden, the moment ended as soon as it began. Dipper turned his head toward the closest window overlooking the long field outside. He stood to his feet and shuffled hurriedly to it, watching a supposed commotion within his sights. "You might wanna come see this."

Pacifica joined him. Outside in the dark, the transparent barrier Dipper summoned was being assaulted by unseen figures, throwing themselves against it, creating sparks of blue every time impact was made.

"Is that...?"

"The werewolves? Looks like it."

"They've come early this time then. How long did you say that wizard dome would hold?"

"I don't know for sure. A few hours? Maybe less."

"Well, no matter what happens, I'm not running. We didn't when that freaky triangle showed up, right?"

Dipper smiled, "No, we didn't. But I guess that's what freaks do. We don't run when it's painfully obvious we should."

Pacifica didn't really mind the idea of losing her common sense or better judgement in the face of danger. And she didn't really mind being known as a freak if that meant being brave.

And if in a few hours, or a few minutes, those werethings somehow managed to break through, she'd stand by her word.

-x-

The chapter after this will wrap up the whole werewolf thing. Then we move on to other stuff. Believe me, I've got a lot more planned for this story!

Also, not sure if it's canon that Pacifica has a living or named grandpa. I didnt see anything in the wiki, and all we have to go by is the portrait room, so I sort of made up a name for him. If he's already a character in some comic or canon GF media feel free to correct me.