Volume 1 Act 1 – Chapter 13 | Silent Bearings

Good Kid | Good Kid - Atlas

"So that leaves…" Dipper fell silent, looking towards Pacifica. She looked up from the notepad, meeting his eyes.

"Just…" She looked back at the list, crossing out the last name.

"Oh…" They had gone through every name on her list.

She groaned, throwing her head back. "This hasn't gotten us anywhere, Pines!"

Dipper rubbed his temple in annoyance. "We have to be missing something. Is there anything else you can think of? Anything that could connect these businesses to your family?"

She scoffed, folding her arms defensively. "I told you, I don't know! And you're the one who said you had an idea of where to start in the first place!" She jabbed a finger in his direction.

Dipper rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a pang of guilt. "Sorry, I thought I was onto something."

Pacifica rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say, journal boy."

Her gaze drifted back to the list in front of them. Over the past hour, they had painstakingly gone through each name, bouncing ideas off each other to figure out how they could be connected to her family name. But nothing fit. No matter how hard she thought about it, no matter how much Dipper prodded her with questions, the answers just weren't coming.

She clenched her fist, tapping it against the notepad. "Why can't I remember anything? It's like—it's like there's this… fog in my head or something!" Her voice cracked slightly, and she quickly turned her head away from Dipper, her blonde hair falling across her face.

Dipper frowned, watching her. He knew Pacifica wasn't one to admit when she was struggling and seeing her like this made him feel uneasy. "Hey," he said, softening his tone. "This isn't your fault. Whatever's going on—it's big. Bigger than either of us. We'll figure it out."

Pacifica scoffed, though her voice was quieter now. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one whose family might've…might've destroyed these businesses." She gestured at the crossed-out names, her hand trembling slightly. "What if my parents—what if I'm the reason these people lost everything?"

Dipper hesitated. He wanted to tell her it wasn't true, but he didn't know for sure. Instead, he focused on what they did know. "If your family was involved, then it's not on you. You didn't make those choices." He tapped the list. "But figuring out the truth? That's on us. And we'll do it together."

Pacifica glanced at him, her expression softening for a moment. She sighed, brushing her hair back. "Fine. But if this all turns out to be a waste of time, I'm blaming you, Pines."

Dipper smirked. "Wouldn't expect anything less."

As her attention drifted back to the notepad, Dipper's own focus wavered. He stared at the list, the crossed-out names blurring together as his mind drifted into old habits.

"Maybe if I was here last summer, I'd be more helpful," he muttered under his breath. The words tasted bitter, and he felt a familiar pang of guilt twisting in his chest.

Gravity Falls had changed around him—he could feel it. The rhythm of the town, the quirks, the smaller mysteries that lived in its shadows. He had missed all of it. And worse, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that some of those small, overlooked details might have been huge clues. Clues that could unravel the mystery behind Pacifica's family and their newfound power.

His thoughts raced. What had he missed? A closed storefront with a peculiar sign? A strange rumor whispered in the aisles of the Mystery Shack? Or maybe just the way the air seemed to hold its breath before something big happened. The things he had once been so attuned to now felt just out of reach, like he'd let the pulse of the town slip through his fingers.

"Dipper!" Pacifica's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Huh?" He blinked, realizing she was staring at him, one eyebrow arched in annoyance.

"You zoning out isn't exactly helping," she said, gesturing at the list. "Are you gonna keep brooding, or are we gonna figure this out?"

He shook his head, clearing the fog of nostalgia. "Right. Sorry."

Pacifica rolled her eyes. "Journal boy," she muttered under her breath, but the corner of her mouth twitched in the faintest hint of a smirk.

Dipper straightened up, his tone shifting. "Pacifica, can you tell me how the town has changed since I've been gone? Anything that could've happened in the last two years?"

Pacifica blinked, caught off guard by his sudden focus. "Uhh…okay. Well, ever since you two left, that Mystery Hack—or whatever—has become a huge tourist spot. You guys are kind of a big deal around here since, y'know…you saved the world."

Dipper's lips twitched into a small grin before he mentally slapped himself.

Don't get ahead of yourself, Dipper.

He nodded. "Keep going."

She smirked. "Don't let that forehead of yours get any bigger."

Dipper frowned, running his hand self-consciously through his hair. "Hey, it's not that big…right?"

"Maybe," she teased. "Anyway. A lot of people go there now—tourists and townsfolk. The mall even stepped up their game. They tore out the arcade and laser tag section to make room for a bigger entertainment area."

"What?!" Dipper shot up, his face falling. "I loved that place!"

She flinched at his outburst, waving him off. "Relax, dork. It's actually a lot better now than it was before."

Dipper squinted at her. "Wait, how would you know that?"

Pacifica froze, her face growing slightly red. "Th-that doesn't matter, Pines! I just…happen to look around the mall occasionally…when I have free time." She whipped her hair over her shoulder dramatically.

Dipper laughed.

She glared at him. "It's not funny, you nerd! Do you want me to answer your question or not?"

He wiped a tear from his eye, grinning. "Sorry, I just didn't expect you to be into games."

She groaned, turning away. "Ugh. Moving on…" She sniffed, lifting her nose in the air.

"Greasy's got more popular. Probably because I started working there."

"Uh-huh," Dipper replied dryly.

Pacifica ignored him, rolling her eyes but letting the faintest smile cross her lips. "And then…" She trailed off, her brow furrowing. Something popped into her mind, something that was there the whole time and she just hadn't realized it.

"What?"

She leaned forward, scanning the crossed-out names on the list. "Then…Putt Hutt. It went out of business around that time last year."

Dipper's head perked up, "Yeah, so?"

"So did this one." She pointed to another name. "And this one."

Dipper's eyes widened. "They all went under around the same time…"

Pacifica nodded, her expression hardening. "And that's when my parents started talking about 'getting back what was ours.'" She hesitated, looking at Dipper. "This…this isn't a coincidence."

Dipper's mind raced as he stared at the list. "No. It's not."

He leaned back, tapping the list with his pencil. "If these businesses went under around the same time, it means someone—probably your parents—was actively targeting them. But why? Did they need money and control?"

Pacifica frowned. "Control sounds about right. My parents always made a big deal about the 'Northwest legacy.' They were definitely trying to rebuild their influence."

"Could they have had help?" Dipper asked, narrowing his eyes. "Like…someone pulling the strings?"

She hesitated. "I don't know. They were always cagey about where the money came from."

Her gaze then dropped to the floor. "This is my family's fault…it's my fault."

Dipper put a hand on her shoulder. "I think…there's a lot we don't know. But you're not your parents, Pacifica. Whatever they've done, it's not on you."

She scoffed, but there was a faint crack in her voice. "Tell that to everyone who lost their businesses."

Dipper hesitated before replying, his voice steady. "Maybe that's why you're here now. To make it right."

Her face softened as she looked into his dark brown eyes. They grounded her, restoring the confidence in herself even though she felt like she was breaking apart. He then looked at her seriously.

"If all of this is even remotely true, we need to figure out what really happened to these businesses. And I think Putt Hutt is our next stop."As he scribbled a note in his journal, Pacifica shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing at nothing in particular.

"What's wrong?" Dipper asked, noticing her frown.

"Nothing," she said quickly, brushing it off. "Let's just get this over with."

Dipper grabbed his bag, glancing at Pacifica. "We'll need flashlights if we're heading there. Do you think it's abandoned?"

Pacifica shrugged. "Pretty much. No one's touched it since it closed. It's all boarded up now."

"We should go after dark, that might make it easier to search," Dipper said, his tone growing more focused. "If your parents were involved, maybe there's still something there they didn't clean up."

Pacifica bit her lip. "Or maybe that's exactly why no one's gone near it. There could be…traps. Or worse."

Dipper raised an eyebrow. "Worse?"

She crossed her arms. "This is Gravity Falls, Pines. Do I really need to spell it out for you?"

Dipper smirked faintly. "Fair point."

After gathering their things, they got up from the table and walked past the water tower back towards town. As they walked, Pacifica glanced at Dipper's journal.

"You've still got that thing? What, do you write down every time someone breathes too loudly?"

Dipper gave her a sideways look. "It's called being thorough. Maybe you should try it sometime."

She smirked, looking at her nails. "I'll stick to being fabulous, thanks."

Dipper rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help the small grin tugging at his lips.

The evening sunlight poured through the window of the Mystery Shack. Ambient chatter filled the shack of customers coming back from a tour. Mabel looked down at the box beside her, pulling out bobble heads and Shack dioramas, filling the empty shelf by the window. She looked towards the counter at Wendy. She stood manning the register with one hand and reading a magazine with the other.

She looked down at the Stan bobblehead in her hand, an item in demand since they saved the town. Its lopsided eyes stared at her, burning the memories of her last summer here into her mind. Her and Dipper were practically attached at the hip during that time. Even though they had their own fights and disagreements, they looked out for each other, facing any mystery Gravity Falls could throw at them. She sat the bobblehead on the shelf, carefully aligning it with the others she placed even though no customer would notice. "Mystery Twins," she muttered under her breath, trying the title on like an old sweater. But something was missing, it didn't fit right.

She bent down, her hand stilled over the box of bobbleheads.

I've always been the glue, haven't I?

She was always the one who kept everything fun. The one who kept everything light, holding everyone together. She felt her throat tighten as the memories piled up—late-night stakeouts with Dipper, the way he always let her lead the way, even when he was the one with the answers. She thought about that moment in the attic, her voice trembling with anger as she accused him of wanting to leave her behind. The words had cut deep, but the truth was even worse: she hadn't been angry at him. She'd been scared. She spiraled downwards. What if she was the reason he'd wanted to leave?

What if I made him feel stuck instead?

She forced herself to grab another bobblehead and place it on the shelf. Her movements were mechanical, her heart heavy. She glanced toward Wendy again, wishing she could just say something to someone about how she felt. But what was there to say? "Hey, I think I might've been a terrible sister last summer"? That wasn't exactly easy to bring up over lunch.

The sounds of the Shack's Old front door creaking open snapped her out of her thoughts. She looked up just in time to see Melody hauling in a crate of new merchandise. Soos tore away from the crowd of customers and over to the door, his grin wide as ever.

"Oh dudes! This is some of that fresh stock I was talking about—one of these boxes might even be haunted! The little green guy didn't say much, but you know how it is."

Wendy gave Soos a blank stare. Mabel Laughed, a little more real this time. "Cool, Soos! Haunted merch is always a big seller."

But as she turned back to the shelves, her face dropped, her smile fading. Something then bumped into her legs. She looked down by her feet.

"Oink…"

She forced a smile. "Hey waddles."

"You good over there, Mabel?" Wendy called from the register without looking up from her magazine.

Mabel froze for a second, then forced a wide grin. "Totally, Wendster! Just plotting my next craft-tacular masterpiece to wow the masses!"

Wendy smirked. "Cool. Let me know if you need glitter. Or, like, 300 pounds of pipe cleaners."
Mabel laughed, but it sounded hollow even to her.

She crouched down, scratching Waddles' ear. She cupped her hands around his face.

"What do you think Waddles. I am doing the right thing?"

He stared at her, nudging his snout on her knee. She tried to smile, but only a frown made its way to the surface.

She looked out the window at the sunset, its vibrant colors and orange hues spreading through the sky, bleeding onto the ground below. She thought to herself how she always made things fun. She kept things light, that was her role. But maybe, just maybe, she had been so busy trying to be the sunshine that she'd ignored the storms Dipper had been quietly weathering on his own. And before she knew it, it was too late. Those storms loomed over him, ones he tried to push through by himself, only to drown in their downpour. She wanted to be there for him, but having fun, being that carefree sibling she was known as came at the cost of understanding her brother's deeper needs.

She looked at the bobbleheads lined up on the shelf. Their lopsided eyes were wobbling in unison. They were supposed to be a set, but they didn't really match. Not completely. One was slightly bigger, the other slightly off-balance. They were just close enough that no one else would notice, but not her.

She noticed, and it was enough to make her chest ache.

She heard Wendy shuffle around at the counter, but even the sound of her friend's voice felt far away, like she was listening underwater. Before she knew it, the customers had cleared out of the shack. Wendy yawned as she closed the register in front of her. Soos set down his Pez hat and cane, helping Melody move the crate to the corner of the room for later.

She pressed her cheek against Waddles' head, feeling the warmth of his fur. He was her constant, her safe space. But even Waddles couldn't answer the question that buzzed at the back of her mind like an annoying gnat: Who was she, if she wasn't the glue? If she wasn't holding everyone together, then what was her purpose?

Her hand stilled on Waddles' back as the thought lingered, heavy and sharp. Maybe being the glue wasn't about keeping things from falling apart. Maybe it was about letting the cracks show and being there anyway.

Her chest tightened, that sinking feeling washing in. She wondered if Dipper ever felt this way—like he was stuck playing a part he wasn't sure he could keep up anymore. Maybe that's why he threw himself into every mystery, why he always needed a puzzle to solve. Maybe he was just as scared of standing still as she was.

Dipper walked into the room, slinging a backpack over his shoulders. He was wearing a dark jacket and a red shirt. A classic look that made Mabel think about those younger times.

He sounded exasperated, muttering under his breath. "Shoot, I need more batteries."

Wendy's head perked up from behind the counter, a smirk drawn across her face.

"Freaking out before your date, dude?"

Dipper looked at her, surprised, his face burning up. "I already told you guys it's nothing like that!"

Mabel smiled slightly. When Dipper had returned from his 'meetup' with Pacifica earlier, he'd tried to explain that she'd been looking into how her parents regained their wealth. Still, it did seem like a 'Dipper date'—a mystery, a partner, and a lot of overthinking.

Wendy tossed him a pack of batteries, snickering. "Sure, Romeo. Try not to sweep her off her feet."

"Wendy!"

Dipper huffed, stuffing the batteries into his bag. He walked around the room, completely in his 'detective' mode. It made part of Mabel happy; she hadn't seen him focused and committed to something in a while. She watched him rummage through the drawers, muttering about something else he'd forgotten. He was always so focused, so determined. It used to drive her crazy, but now... now she wondered if that determination came from a place she hadn't fully understood before.

She bumped into his shoulder, forcing a cheer. "Hey, bro-bro! Did you come to bask in my amazing shelf-stocking skills, or are you here to tell me you cracked the case already during that date?"

Dipper shook his head, his cheeks burning. "I, uh, just came to grab something, but… are you okay? You've been weirdly quiet today."

Mabel froze, feeling like he could see through the enthusiasm she always tried to put on for others. She hesitated. "…Yeah, I'm fine. Totally Fine. Why wouldn't I be fine?"

Dipper looked at her, slightly squinting his eyes before rummaging through his backpack.

"Just checking. Also, it was not a date, okay?"

Mabel scoffed. "Yeah, whatever you say bro!" She felt her body freeze after he turned away. \

Am I that obvious?

Wendy walked out from behind the counter. "Dude, this isn't gonna be like, super dangerous, is it? Do I need to tag along?"

Dipper waved his hand. "Were just looking around. I'm sure we'll be fine, don't worry."

Wendy looked concerned. "You sure man? You don't have the journal this time what if —"

Dipper flinched at the mention of the journal, immediately interrupting her. "I know, I uh… I'll be fine, alright?"

Wendy's concerned didn't leave her face, but her shoulders relaxed. "Hey, I trust you." She smiled at him.

Mabel watched as Dipper turned to leave, thinking about how his shoulders had seemed to be carrying the weight of everything around him lately since they got on the bus to Gravity Falls. Her voice called out without her thinking, catching him.

"Dipper? You're doing okay, right?"

He paused in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder. For a moment, his serious expression softened, and he gave a small nod.

"Yeah. Thanks, Mabel."

The door swung shut behind him, leaving the room quiet. She turned and adjusted the smallest bobblehead one last time, but it still leaned just a fraction of an inch to the left. Her hand lingered on it, hovering like she could will it into place. She wanted to help him, to be part of the adventure. But her mind was stuck, unable to decide if helping him meant jumping in headfirst or taking a step back to listen, letting him take the lead when he needed to.

But she wasn't going to stop being his sister. No way, no how.