Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first thing to hit him after he stepped off the bus was the fresh smell of recent rainfall. That, mixed with the scent of the pine trees and the faint sweetness of honeysuckle growing along the edge of the road was enough to send Dipper reeling back into memories of the town he hadn’t realized how much he missed until this moment. It had been a few years, but he was back in Gravity Falls.

Shaking off the nostalgia, he hefted his duffel bag and started walking down the familiar path to the Mystery Shack, the evening sun painting the sky a soft pink. He was weirdly nervous, as he walked closer and closer to the shack. Why was that? I mean, sure, it had been a few years since he had been back, but the twins had only stopped coming back for every summer once they had started college and had needed their summers for internships and research. So that was what, five years? His mind did a double take. 

Five years. 

He swallowed anxiously, wondering how much the town had changed without him. Soos was still running the shack in the absence of the Grunkles, who were still off on their grand boating adventure. He had last heard from them a couple of months ago, when Ford called him to tell him that they had been tracking an ancient sea monster somewhere off the coast of Eastern Canada. Ford had gone on and on about what the local legends had said about the creature, and had asked him to add a few notes to one of his journals for him regarding their last successful chase--they had found a supposedly non-existent island in Hawaii that could only be accessed under extraordinary conditions, and housed rare herbs that Ford had been eager to experiment with once he returned home. 

It had been nice to hear from the Grunkles, but Dipper sort of missed when they had all shared time in the Mystery Shack. He felt a pang in his chest, but quickly shook it off. At least Mabel would be here this summer. It would mark the first time the twins lived together again since starting college. After he had gone to a fancy private university on the East Coast, and Mabel had stayed closer to home to get her education degree, they had only seen each other for visits and holidays. His spirits lifted as he thought about spending more time with his sister. It hadn't been easy to be so far apart for so long. 

As he emerged from the forest path and laid eyes on the familiar wooden building, he couldn't help the smile that grew on his face. It had been too long. Soos had finally fixed the sign in his absence, so it read SHACK instead of HACK. It looked like he had spruced it up a bit too, adding some lights to the sign, adding a stone path to the entrance, and painting the door frame a deep purple. He blinked. It looked nice. 

As he walked down the path towards the entrance, the door burst open and he only had time to register a flash of bright orange and the smell of warm sugar as he was attacked with a hug from his twin sister. He dropped his duffel bag, laughing and returning the hug. 

"DIPPER! YOU'RE FINALLY HERE!" She yelled right into his ear. He winced, but the smile never left his face. "I'VE BEEN HERE FOR HOURS, I FORGOT HOW SLOW THAT STUPID BUS IS!" Mabel finally stepped back and let him breathe. She grinned excitedly. "I'm making waffles for everyone right now, and Soos is waiting for you inside."

"It's good to see you too." Dipper laughed. "You do know it's almost dinner time, right?" 

"They're dinner waffles." 

Dipper grinned. "I can't believe we're finally living together again." 

"The mystery twins are BACK, baby!" Mabel clapped excitedly. "Thank god your stupid degree means you're spending the summer here. I don't think I could have handled one more three minute update call."

Dipper smiled apologetically. His PhD program had lately left him busier than ever. Their calls had gotten shorter and shorter as his workload increased.

"Hey, don't hate on the degree. When I'm rich and famous from my Nobel Prize--"

"Wa-wa-wa-wa," Mabel mimicked his talking, opening and closing her hand. "Come inside already!"

She grabbed his duffel bag and ran inside, Dipper walking behind. As he passed through the doorway, he noted that the shop seemed newer. The merch looked shinier, the cash register had fancier buttons on it, and--was that central AC? Soos had clearly put a lot of care into taking care of the shack. It made Dipper smile, knowing that this place was still just as loved as it was when he left. 

"Dude!" Dipper looked up to see Soos, standing by the entrance to the shop, laughing as he walked towards him with open arms. 

"Soos, man! It's so great to see you again." Dipper and Soos hugged, laughing and smiling as they took each other in. Soos looked almost exactly the same, but Dipper knew that he had somehow managed to grow a couple more inches after his high school graduation, which had been the last time they'd seen each other. 

"Dude. You're like, tall now. That's so weird man." Soos chuckled. 

As the two caught up, Dipper felt a warm feeling settle over his chest. This really did feel like a homecoming, even after all this time.

***

After dinner (waffles, as Mabel had promised, with some chicken and gravy provided by Soos and Melody, who had joined them for the meal), Dipper headed upstairs to start unpacking his belongings. He had mainly filled his bags with books--the journals, along with a slew of academic texts he planned on drawing on for his thesis. He looked down at the meager clothes at the very bottom of the duffel, and sighed. It would have to make do until the end of the summer. He flopped on his bed. He was staying in his old room, that had formerly housed one of Grunkle Ford's wayward experiments. He shuddered as he remembered being in Mabel's body for the better part of a day. Outside, the sun had set and Dipper could hear the faint sound of crickets chirping. He had meant to do some preliminary planning tonight, but as his eyelids drooped, surrounded by the familiar comfort of the Mystery Shack, he decided it could wait until tomorrow. 

Dipper.  

Dipper's eyes flew open. He was no longer in the Mystery Shack, but deep in the forests of Gravity Falls. He looked around, trying to get his bearings, but this part of the woods was unfamiliar to him. Which was weird--between the first summer he'd spent here and the few summers following it, he had taken pride in knowing the woods like the back of his hands. They had become an unpredictable, sometimes life-threatening second home for him. 

As he gazed around, a strange feeling started to creep up on him. He rubbed the hairs standing up on the back of his neck, and turned in circles, trying to find the source of the feeling. He was being watched. Something was here with him. 

Behind you, Pine Tree.

Fuuuuck. He knew that voice.  

"Bill. Where are you? Face me, you coward!" He spun and yelled the words, his whole body on high alert, adrenaline coursing through him. He tried not to let the panic creep into his voice. 

A giant eye opened up in front of him, emitting a brilliant, multicolored light that illuminated the trees around him. He squinted in the beam, as the eye looked directly at him. 

You thought you could kill me, Dipper? Erase me like nothing ever happened? It's not that simple, kid. You don't get to win. Not against ME.

"No. No, no. We beat you." The panic was definitely in his voice now. "You're gone. I know you are. This is just a dream. I'm dreaming." He squinted his eyes shut, and started counting backwards from 10. Ford had taught him the trick. He suffered from the nightmares too. Once he reached one, he would force himself to wake up.

"10... 9...-"

Try your little tricks. You can't avoid me forever. I'm not just in your head Dipper. This isn't just a dream. I'm everywhere.

The forest started to warp around him, colors shifting past their usual hues, trees stretching out to grab him, the forest floor shifting and crumbling beneath him.

 "5... 4...-"

The eye grew bigger and angrier, glaring down at Dipper. 

This goodbye is temporary. Remember that. We'll meet again.

"2... 1..."

Silence. 

Dipper sat straight up in bed. His clothes were damp with sweat, and he gasped for air as he looked around the room. His heart-rate slowed as he calmed himself down. He was back in the shack. It was just a dream. He hadn't had a nightmare like that in a while, not since his second year of college at least. He had gotten them almost nightly in the months following Weirdmageddon, but with the help of Ford and his other family members he had more or less gotten control of them. 

He took a deep breath, reaching for his water bottle next to his bed. He took a gulp. It made sense that he would have one after coming back to Gravity Falls for the first time in years. He should've expected it. 

This isn't just a dream.

The words echoed through his mind, but he shook his head, clearing the obnoxious voice from his brain. Bill had no right to be playing mind tricks on him years after his death. Sometimes, Dipper thought, Mabel was right. He could be his own worst enemy. He had a tendency to invent problems sometimes. This was just another one.

He sighed and got out of bed. It was still the middle of the night, but he wouldn't be able to sleep for a while after that. He padded downstairs blearily, in hopes of a midnight snack. When he reached the kitchen, he paused. The light was on, and Mabel was sitting at the counter, a open box of Cheez-its in front of her as she stared out the window and crunched noisily. 

"Mabel?" 

She turned, her face lighting up as she saw Dipper. 

"Hey bro-bro. Couldn't sleep either?" 

"Something like that. Bad dream. Thought I'd come downstairs for a snack," he gestured to the box of Cheez-its, "if there are any left, at least."

He thought Mabel's smile flickered a bit as he mentioned the bad dream, but he must have imagined it because a second later she threw a Cheez-it at him and laughed. 

"I was never the one who had issues with sharing, Dipper. Remember Baba the Sheep?" 

"We were literally four!" Dipper protested, smiling a bit. He walked over and grabbed a handful of Cheez-its. "Plus, he was mine--"

"Oh my god, it was a gift for BOTH of us!"

They continued their sibling bickering for a few minutes, and Dipper felt better already, his dream forgotten. 

"I'm glad we're back." Mabel said, after they had failed to work through several past grievances. "I think I missed it way more than I realized."

Dipper agreed. "If only the Grunkles were here. Hopefully they'll make it back here sometime before the end of summer."

"Who are you most excited to see?" Mabel asked, eyes glinting. "You know, Wendy said she would stop by tomorrow." 

That got an eye roll out of Dipper, as he shoved her shoulder lightly. "You and I both know I got over that almost a decade ago. Besides, I don't have time for anything like what you're implying this summer. It'll be nice to be back and all, but I have a dissertation to write, Mabel." 

"Ok, ok, so not Wendy. But they call me Matchmaker Mabel for a reason." She grinned. "I'm on the case."

"No, Mabel, please, for the love of god--"

"Too late. You have your project this summer, and I have mine." 

Dipper sighed. He knew Mabel wouldn't give up. Plus, he loved her for it a bit. Even if he really wouldn't have time, he knew Mabel would always try to throw him into some new summer romance. It was just who she was. 

"Good luck with that." He yawned and looked at the clock. It was almost 3 in the morning. "I'm headed back to bed. I need to start early tomorrow morning. I should be back for lunch, though."

"Good night, Dipper." Mabel smiled. "It's nice to say that in person."

He smiled back. "Good night, Mabel. 

Dipper climbed the stairs and got back in bed, his mind already thinking ahead to the morning. He had so much to do in this town. So much more to learn. He could hardly wait.

Chapter Text

True to his word, Dipper had left the house bright and early the next morning, despite his troubled sleep the night before. If he was serious about trying to finish his dissertation by the end of summer, he needed to start collecting data immediately. His theories hinged on Gravity Fall’s regular quantum fluctuations, and, of course, the strangeness that resulted from them. If he could map out some type of correlation between the two and link them to the presence of dimensional irregularities in the town, it would be groundbreaking work in his field. 

The sun shone bright in the sky as he made his way through the woods near the shack, setting up monitors and scanners affixed to several trees. As he walked, the forest seemed to buzz with that strange, almost ancient energy that used to scare him at first. He remembered his twelve-year old self complaining to Stan about feeling like he was being watched in the woods. 

Now that he was older, he knew that the feeling had never been wrong. There was always something other-worldly amidst these trees. The woods in this town had a mind of their own sometimes. 

As he hung up his fifth or sixth scanner, his phone started buzzing urgently. He opened it to find several texts from an unknown number:

Unknown: Dipper- you might not remember me, but it’s Tate McGucket, Fiddleford’s son. 

Unknown: I got your number from your friend, Pacifica. 

Dipper raised an eyebrow. Friend?

Unknown: You need to come to the old manor as soon as you can. Dad requested it urgently, and he may not have much time left. Something happened to him. 

Unknown: Please.

Dipper frowned. It was unusual enough that Tate had bothered to find Dipper’s number and contact him, but the thing that made him pause was the ‘Something happened to him.’

Old Man McGucket had grown on the twins ever since he’d started helping them fight Bill all those years ago. Before they’d stopped visiting, they used to invite him over for meals with the Grunkles. Now that he thought about it, Dipper remembered him mentioning his son reconnecting with him shortly before their last visit. The text was worrying, to say the least.

The other thing that made him pause was the mention of Pacifica. She had crossed his mind a few times over the years, as he wondered how she was doing. The twins had tried to hang out with her a few times after Weirdmageddon, but as far as she had shown she was willing to leave her parents leash to do the right thing, that leash had seemed to get tighter and tighter after Bill’s apocalypse, her parents left paranoid and worse than ever after being tormented by Bill. Slowly, they’d returned back to their old dynamic, and Pacifica had pretended to be above them both once again. 

It had upset Mabel more than Dipper, since she’d seen the potential in Pacifica as a friend. Dipper had remained skeptical the whole time. Once a stuck up rich girl, always a stuck up rich girl. It had disappointed him to see her go back to her old ways, but he had shrugged, sighed, and moved on. 

Dipper looked back at the texts, and the urgency in them was enough to make him turn back on his path and head to the shack once again. Worry flickered through him as he thought about the old man. What was so urgent that he needed to drop everything and go to the manor?

As he neared the shack, he caught a familiar glimpse of red hair, and despite his racing thoughts, a smile lifted his face. 

“Wendy!” 

Wendy was getting out of a car, a bag in her hand that appeared to be full of snack food and groceries. She had switched out her trademark green flannel for a darker green jacket, but everything else about her had stayed the same. Her face lit up as she turned and waved at Dipper, grinning. 

“Dipper! Jesus, you’re taller than me now. How the hell did that happen?” She laughed as he grew closer and they hugged. It had been far too long. 

Dipper stepped back and Wendy gestured to the bag she was holding. 

“Mabel invited me over for lunch, so I brought some stuff over--” She stopped as Dipper spoke over her, his words rushed. 

“Wendy, sorry, but it’s urgent, I need to get to the old manor fast. I got a weird text from Old Man McGucket’s son. It didn’t sound good.” Dipper’s brow furrowed as he explained the situation, the anxiety spiking once again. 

“Of course you’re back for two seconds and there’s already some mystery underway.” Wendy rolled her eyes good naturedly, and opened the car door again. “Want a ride?”

Dipper smiled. “Thanks.” As he clambered into the car, he sent a quick text to Mabel explaining the situation. 

“What do you think’s going on?” Wendy asked, frowning. She had never been all that close to McGucket, but she recalled his help in the fight against Bill. She’d felt bad about the way he’d been treated (sometimes by her own friends) in the years past and had made an effort to be a friendly face whenever she saw him around town after that. 

Dipper explained the texts as she started the car and started down the road to town. They were headed to the old Northwest Manor, which had been bought by the old man after he’d made a profit selling his inventions. 

“Whatever it is, I hope he’s alright.” Dipper looked over at Wendy. Her eyes were fixed on the road. Dipper tried to think of something to say, but his mind couldn’t stop worrying about the strange texts. 

Wendy glanced over and smiled comfortingly, knowing how Dipper tended to get. 

“It’s been too long, Dip. School’s going alright?” 

Dipper stared at the road ahead. Now he was worrying about something else entirely. 

“Well, I’ve staked my entire reputation on this one dissertation, but aside from that it’s going pretty well.” 

Wendy shook her head, laughing. “You always know how to pile on the pressure, man. Just relax. You know what you’re doing, you’ve been trying to scientifically break down the secrets of this town since you were twelve.”

Dipper smiled ruefully. “Thanks, Wendy. How’s the carpentry going?” 

The last he had heard from her, she had taken over her dad’s business, and had gotten her carpentry license--from Soos’ calls it had seemed to be a huge hit with the townspeople.

She brightened. “It’s kind of great! I don’t know, I feel like I’ve kind of hated every job I’ve worked before--even the Mystery Shack, despite how much you know I love Stan. But I think I’ve found what I enjoy doing. It’s hard work, but I’m not bad at it.” 

Dipper nodded, recalling Wendy’s skills with an axe. “Yeah, I bet. That’s great, man. I’m really happy for you.”

They continued to catch up on the rest of the way to the manor, but the mood shifted as they started to get closer. They’d fallen silent by the time the looming mansion appeared in front of them. As the car approached the gates, they creaked open seemingly of their own accord and Dipper and Wendy exchanged a glance as they rolled through. Something seemed off. 

The sky turned grey as they got out of the car and ascended the steps to the mansion, the sunshine from earlier now hidden away beneath the blanket of an incoming storm. Dipper lifted the heavy brass knocker on the door and knocked it against the door thrice. They waited anxiously for no less than thirty seconds before the door swung open. 

Tate McGucket stood there, wringing his hands with a worried expression on his face. 

“Oh, thank god. He’s gotten so much worse the past week. This might help. Come in, come in.”

They stepped through the doorway, and followed Tate as he led them up a series of stairs. 

“What’s wrong with him? Is he okay?” Dipper questioned him as they walked, but Tate seemed adamant on letting him see for himself. 

“I couldn’t explain it if I tried. Just, follow me, please.” 

They climbed up what seemed like an impossible amount of stairs, and Dipper marveled, not for the first time, at the fact that Pacifica had used to live in this labyrinth of a house. No wonder she had acted the way she did. You couldn’t grow up in a place like this and turn out a normal kid, in any way. 

Finally, they reached a set of wooden doors that, once Tate opened, appeared to be the bedroom of Old Fiddleford McGucket, but without the furniture could easily have been mistaken for a small ballroom. 

Formerly Ford’s apprentice and the original founder of The Society of the Blind Eye, it appeared that the old scientist had somehow fallen even further than his old home in the town junkyard. Clothes littered the room, furniture was broken and seemingly repaired with metal parts that emitted random bursts of steam and shuddered. Discarded gadgets lay strewn on every surface, some of them completely unrecognizable even to Dipper’s eyes. 

The room was filled with a deep rasping sound, the source of which seemed to emit from the giant double bed shoved into the corner of the massive room. Squinting, Dipper could make out a small shape in the bed. He glanced nervously at Tate, wondering if that could really be McGucket.

Tate nodded, his eyes tired and downcast, and led them over to the bed. 

As they approached, the shape in the bed shifted, the blankets revealing the form of Fiddleford McGucket. Dipper let out an involuntary gasp, hearing Wendy do the same behind him, as they finally got a glimpse of the old hermit. 

His right arm and most of his left had been fully encased in what appeared to be stone, and Dipper watched as the afflicted area appeared to very slowly creep up the man’s neck. Every once in a while they’d hear a crack as a small bit of skin would be overtaken by the rock. The deep rasping sound had evidently been the sound of his breathing, as his chest appeared to creak with every breath. They couldn’t see through his shirt, but evidently the affliction covered at least part of his chest. His face, beaten down and somehow in even rougher shape than when he’d been the town hillbilly, looked pale and sickly. His beard was scraggly and tangled, and his eyes had a strange film over them. 

“Fiddleford…” Dipper breathed softly, his eyes scanning the scene with horror. 

McGucket’s eyes turned towards them as he spoke with what seemed to be great difficulty. 

“Dipper, my boy. You came.” He looked as though he tried to give a nod to Wendy, but his neck groaned with the effort and he gave up. 

“What’s happening to you?” Dipper cried with alarm. 

“Part of it is old age, to be sure. But this other part…” His good hand gestured to the areas of his body that appeared to be petrifying, “this is no natural ailment. I know only what you could have already guessed. I appear to be…” He let out a deep rattling cough, and took a moment to collect himself. “I appear to be turnin’ to stone.”

“I- I’ve never seen something like this.” Dipper shook his head in confusion. “How can I help? You called me here, there must be something I could find--”

“No, Dipper. I’m afraid that I’ve scoured all of my research, I’ve tried everything I know of already. This has been goin’ on for months. When it first started, I searched high and low for an answer. Nothing worked. I’m afraid that it’s too late now. I can feel myself fadin’ away, even as we speak.”

He coughed again, for slightly longer this time, and his eyes took on a dreamy, far off look. 

“No! No, I mean I can check the journals again, maybe there’s something--”

Dipper was panicking now, but Fiddleford cut him off again. 

“That’s not why I called you here, my boy. You need to… know what’s been happening.”

Dipper and Wendy looked at each other. Wendy didn’t seem to know what he was talking about any more than Dipper did. 

“What do you mean?”

“This town… strange things are happening again. People are forgetting. It used to be that people just didn’t want to talk about,” he shuddered, “Bill. But more and more of them… you mention the town’s strangeness, or the fact that the town faced an apocalypse, and you get blank stares. Confusion.”

Wendy frowned and snapped her fingers, appearing to come to a realization. “Everytime I try talking to one of my brothers about Bill or Weirdmageddon, he acts like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about.” She shook her head. “I thought he was just pretending, like he didn’t want to talk about it or something, but…”

“But… that sounds like the Society of the Blind Eye again.” Dipper resisted the urge to pace as he spoke. “They disbanded, didn’t they? Plus, Mabel destroyed the memory gun. How could this be happening?”

“I’m not sure. But that’s not all. I’ve been… havin’ dreams.”

Dipper’s eyes went wide.

“What kind of dreams?”

McGucket heard the edge in his voice. “I take it you’re familiar with the kind. The dreams I used to get back when I was working for Ford, when Bill first started prying his fingers into his mind. Nightmares, of the apocalypse.” He sighed. “This could just be the ramblings of an old man again. My mind comes and goes these days. My inventions are back to either failing or blowing up in my face. Tate’s had to come in with the fire extinguisher more times than I can count these past few months. But…” his breath rattled again, “These feel different. I can’t explain it. Just… watch out for the town for me, okay? Ford’s not here anymore, and I feel a lot better knowing you’re back to look after things.”

“McGucket, what are you talking about?” Dipper didn’t like the finality in the old man’s voice. “You’re not going anywhere, right?”

“I can feel myself slipping, Dipper. Even now, the stone has almost completely covered my throat. It’s getting harder to breathe. I’m glad you’re here, and that I can see an old friend before I go, but…” He broke into his worst coughing fit yet, his whole body shaking, and Dipper and Wendy watched in horror as the stone appeared to move slightly faster over his neck. “Just… just say goodbye to Ford for me, won’t you?”

“McGucket…” Dipper reached for the old man, but drew back as he started coughing again, and this time, when the fit subsided, he appeared to still completely. 

“Oh no…” Wendy said softly, and put a hand on Dipper’s arm. 

“Dad?” Tate surged forward and checked on his father, his hands shaking. Dipper waited in shock for several moments, until Tate finally turned around, his face grave and his eyes glassy. 

“He…” his voice broke off, but he appeared to steel himself. “He’s gone. Thank you kids for coming when I called. I’m glad he got to see you.” 

“Are you okay?” Dipper asked, the stillness of the moment hovering over them all.

“He was old. I knew it was coming.” Tate shook his head, as if trying to shake off any emotions he had. “Don’t make it much easier, but what else can you do?”

Wendy lowered her head, her lips pressed together. “I’m so sorry.” She looked at Dipper, seeing how shocked he still was. “Dipper, we should go.” She gently took his arm.

“I’ll see you two out. I’ll need to… start planning the funeral, I guess.” He squared his shoulders, as if having a next step made him feel a bit better. “Thank you for being here.”

Dipper nodded again, still trying to process it all. McGucket had been a friend to him, and the rest of the Pines family. He hadn’t expected to see him die so soon, and under such disturbing circumstances. He allowed Wendy and Tate to lead him out of the house, and he didn’t say anything else until he was back in the car, and Wendy was halfway down the road from the manor. 

“Ford’s going to be devastated.” He muttered. 

Wendy nodded. “You doing okay?” She asked. She knew how Dipper could get with tricky emotions. He had a hard time accepting things when there wasn’t anything he could do to solve the problem. 

“Yeah.” Dipper wiped his face with one hand. “I’ll be fine. 

But as he gazed out the window, watching the trees go by, his mind still spun with thoughts. McGucket was gone… but why? Why had he been covered in stone, why had the townspeople started forgetting about Bill, and what exactly had caused his death?

It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours in Gravity Falls, and Dipper Pines already had a mystery to solve. 

Chapter Text

It was an odd sight to see Mabel Pines dressed in all black.

As Mabel descended the stairs to the kitchen dressed in a simple black dress, Dipper felt the somber atmosphere of the day that much more. A week had passed since he had witnessed Old Man McGucket’s death, and McGucket’s family was holding the funeral service today. Somehow, seeing Mabel without any trace of her trademark colorful clothing made the day feel even more significant. 

“Ready, Mabes?” Dipper gave her a small smile as he nodded his head towards the door. They’d be driving Mabel’s car to the service, where they’d meet up with Soos and Wendy. 

“I think so.” Mabel frowned. “It’s just so sudden. I feel bad that the last time I saw him was five years ago. I don’t think very many people checked in on him while we were gone and the Grunkles were away.” 

That thought had hurt Dipper too. “I know. I can’t help but feel a little guilty for never asking after him.”

In a somber mood, the twins made their way to the car parked outside. The sky was grimly overcast, threatening rain with every shade it went darker. Mabel clicked the car keys and the car chirped. Since Mabel had stuck closer to home for college, it had made more sense for her to inherit their parent’s old car when they had bought a new one, given that Dipper had been across the country at the time. 

“Do you want me to drive?” Dipper offered, but Mabel’s eyes went wide and she shook her head. 

“No, that’s fine! I’ll drive!” Mabel quickly opened the car door on the driver’s side. Dipper narrowed his eyes. 

“Why don’t you want me to drive, Mabel?”

“Oh, no reason! I’m just in a drive-y mood right now!” She was avoiding eye contact as she clambered into the vehicle. 

“Oh man, I knew it! Come on Mabel, it was one time, and it was barely even an accident!” Dipper rolled his eyes as he protested. “And you know that guy totally faked his arm being broken.” 

“I just think, that given some history,” Mabel waved her hands around on that word, “Maybe you keep your easily distracted brain in the passenger's seat when your beloved sister, who values her life and her car, is present!”

Dipper huffed. Mabel was referring to the time last winter when Dipper had visited her for the holidays and, when on their way to get the Pines family christmas tree, had seen what he thought was a sasquatch-shaped shadow in the forest. He had accidentally brake-checked a very angry businessman who was driving behind them. He didn’t end up finding any sasquatch, but while he’d been peering into the trees, the businessman had been screaming at the two twins and threatening to bring his lawyers down on them like the hammer of god. 

It had all worked itself out in the end, as Mabel charmed her way into the man’s good graces and agreed that they would pay for the damages to the car. But Dipper was no longer allowed to drive her anywhere.

As they drove (Dipper had reluctantly gotten into the passenger's seat), Mabel glanced over at her brother. 

“What about you? I know you’ve holed yourself up in Ford’s lab for the last week. How are you doing with all this stuff?”

Dipper still hadn’t forgotten about the suspicious circumstances surrounding the death, and his mind buzzed as he recalled the hours and hours spent researching McGucket’s strange condition last week. He had researched petrification, had looked into texts about creatures that could turn someone to stone, had conducted experiments with the strange substances in Ford’s basement lab--all to no avail. 

It was maddening. 

What had happened for McGucket’s skin to start turning to stone like that? And, as remembered their conversation, why had the townspeople started losing their memories of the apocalypse ten years ago? 

“Still nothing. I can’t figure out why he was turning to stone, and I haven’t even gotten the chance to investigate whether or not The Society of the Blind Eye is back.” Dipper rubbed his forehead, his brows furrowed, as the tension headache that had been looming in his mind all week threatened to make a comeback. 

“Hey, we’ll figure it out together. You know you can ask me for help, right? Mystery twins and all that?” Mabel looked at him, concerned. 

“I know, Mabes. Thanks.” The two exchanged a smile. 

Mabel rolled the car to a slow stop as they approached the cemetery. As the twins got out of the car, they saw a small group of people gathered towards the edge of the cemetery. Tate McGucket stood at the front of the crowd, in front of the open grave above which the coffin rested on an elevated platform. Next to him stood a short woman with short brown hair, holding his hand, which Dipper assumed was his wife. They’d never met, and he honestly hadn’t even known the reclusive man was married. 

Next to them on one side of the grave stood Wendy and someone who looked like one of her younger brothers, alongside Soos and Melody. Wendy caught a glimpse of them and gave them a small wave as they walked over. 

On the other side of the grave were the town’s local police officers, Durland and Blubs, and ‘Lazy’ Susan, her trademark waitress outfit swapped out for a long-sleeved black frock, and a black hat. She stood making polite conversation with the two police officers. 

Mabel and Dipper took their places besides Wendy and Soos, nodding back to Tate as he gave them a stoic dip of his head. Soos was wiping his eyes with a handkerchief, having been downcast all week. 

“I’ll never forget the moments we shared,” he sniffed as Melody patted his shoulder comfortingly, “That time he chased me around town when I was Waddles for a day… that was really special.”

Dipper recalled Soos and McGucket hitting it off during Weirdmageddon, but he hadn’t realized how much the old man had meant to Soos. Then again, everyone meant something to Soos. 

Glancing towards Tate, he saw the man check his watch, and he wondered who else was supposed to show up. The low turnout made him kind of sad. After McGucket had helped save the town from Bill all those years ago, Dipper thought at least a few more people would show up for the guy’s funeral. 

He watched as Tate turned around and gave acknowledgement to a figure walking up to the group. 

Dipper stared. He would recognize that bleach blonde hair from a mile away, even if it had been a few years since he’d laid eyes on Pacifica Northwest. 

She looked… good. I mean, she had always looked good, but there was something different about her. Her face looked softer, her eyes less angry. Her hair had remained pretty much exactly the same, except the bangs weren’t quite as blunt as he remembered they used to be. Dipper recalled the intimidating line they’d cut above her eyes, never a hair out of place. They seemed more natural now, more imperfect. It suited her.

Dipper watched her as she took her place beside Susan, and exchanged a few soft words with her. He knew he should stop staring. She would look over any second and see him staring at her like a freak and why was he still--

She looked over. 

They both froze as they locked eyes, unsure of what to do. Luckily Mabel came to the rescue. 

“Pacifica!” She smiled at her former enemy and waved, perhaps a little too cheerfully for the occasion but it was hard to put a damper on Mabel. 

“Mabel.” Pacifica acknowledged her unsurely, as if still not quite sure what to do. Her face was unreadable as her eyes moved to Dipper’s, and he scanned her features looking for any hint as to what she was thinking. The last time the twins had visited they’d been on rocky terms, as Pacifica had once again shunned them for her family’s expectations. She opened her mouth to say something else, but Tate McGucket started addressing the crowd instead and Dipper tore his eyes away to give notice to the proceedings.

***

Tate ended up giving a short speech about his father’s legacy, before slowly lowering the coffin into the grave. Everyone around the grave stood in somber silence as he picked up a shovel and shoveled a shower of dirt over the wooden box. 

As the small group dissembled, Dipper couldn’t help but watch Pacifica as she held Susan’s arm and started to lead her away from the crowd, over to where her car was parked. Should he say something? His mind raced as he watched her give him a final glance, her eyes still unreadable, and turn back towards Susan. 

He made up his mind. Excusing himself from a conversation with Mabel, Soos, and Wendy and her brother, he made his way over the grass, the sky still charged with darkening clouds and the smell of thunder. 

“Pacifica.” He said the name as if it sounded strange on his tongue all of a sudden. As if he wasn’t sure what it meant anymore.

Pacifica turned, their eyes meeting once again. Susan touched the girl lightly on the shoulder and she gave a friendly nod to Dipper before heading to the car by herself. 

“Dipper Pines.” She said, her head tilting up in an effort to look down at him despite the fact that he had quite a few inches of height on her. 

For whatever reason, Dipper’s nervous system gave him a jolt as she said his full name. “It’s--it’s been a while.” They both looked at each other with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. 

“Five years.” She responded, taking him in properly for the first time. “You look… the same.” This was true. Dipper had grown a little in height, but he hadn’t changed his hair or overall look at all since starting college. 

“You don’t.” It slipped out before Dipper could think about it. 

Pacifica bristled. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing! Not in a bad way, just in a different way.” Dipper attempted to save himself. Pacifica remained looking unimpressed and slightly annoyed. 

“Fine. Whatever.” 

“How have you been?” Dipper tried a new route. 

Some of that old anger returned to her eyes. “Fine. Sorry, but remind me why you’re talking to me again?”

Dipper blinked in surprise at the sudden shift in tone, but annoyance settled over his chest quickly enough. It seemed like Pacifica hadn’t changed much. She clearly still thought she was better than him just because her family had three summer homes and a private jet. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, should I have made an appointment with your butler beforehand?” Dipper’s tone took on the same iciness as hers. 

“And here we go again. It’s the same three insults over and over with you, Pines.” She glared at him. “That’s not even what a butler is for, idiot.”

“I wouldn’t know. I never lied for generations to steal money from a town, so I never had one.” He smiled at her.

Pacifica opened her mouth to respond and then closed it. Her eyes glimmered with something Dipper didn’t recognize, and she took a deep breath and put the most forced looking smile Dipper had ever seen onto her face.

“Can I go, or did you have anything of value to say?”

Dipper felt a bit guilty. “I just wanted to ask you about McGucket. Tate said you gave him my number. Why?”

Pacifica continued glaring at him for a second before answering.

“Fiddleford heard you were back, and he wanted to see you before he…” Her voice trailed off, her voice getting a bit softer. “Before he passed.  Fiddleford seemed anxious to see you, and I remembered that I had your number for whatever reason from years ago. So, I told Tate to text you.” 

Dipper was surprised at the revelation that not only did it sound like Pacifica had been to see McGucket in person, but that she was familiar enough with him to call him Fiddleford now. If he remembered correctly, all she used to call him was “the hillbilly” or “that old junkyard freak.” 

She frowned, her voice losing the last of its edge as she spoke uncertainly. “Dipper… do you know what was happening to him?” 

So, she knew about the stone. He wondered how many people did. 

“I-- I’m working on it.” He wrung his hands anxiously as he thought about the mountains of research he had been scouring back at the shack. “I’ve never heard of anything like that.”

Pacifica’s expression grew distant as she locked eyes with his. “Yes, you have.” 

Dipper shook his head, adamantly refusing to think about Bill’s throne of human statues during the apocalypse. He’d had enough nightmares about that thing. “It’s not him. It’s not that. It would be different.” His heart pounded. Of course his mind had gone there as he spent the week researching, but there was no way Bill could have done it from beyond the grave. It had to be something else. 

A sliver of doubt curled at the back of his mind, though. Did he even believe what he was saying, or was it just wishful thinking? 

Pacifica nodded, as if she was choosing to believe him and clung to that belief with all her strength. “Okay.” Worry still shone behind her eyes, but she closed that part off and her head gave a small shake. “Okay, just… I know we haven’t always gotten along--”

Dipper snorted. 

“Just--if you do find anything let me know.” Her eyes challenged Dipper as she spoke. “Fiddleford was a good friend the past few years.” She was daring him to say something, he could tell. Of course Dipper was surprised, but she didn’t seem to want to be questioned about it, so he just nodded.  

“Yeah. I will, Pacifica.” 

She gave him a stiff nod and turned her back to him, walking across the grass to where Susan was waiting next to a small blue car. 

Mabel suddenly appeared next to Dipper, making him jump and interrupting his swirling thoughts about the strange conversation he’d just had. 

“What was that about, Dip Dop?” She said, and he winced at the nickname. 

“Don’t call me that, and… I don’t really know.” Dipper frowned as he tried to make sense of the girl who was now climbing into a car with ‘Lazy’ Susan and driving away. 

“Come on,” he turned to look at Mabel. “Let’s head back.”

As he filled Mabel in on his conversation with Pacifica on their drive back to the Mystery Shack, Mabel filled him in on a conversation she’d had with Wendy and her second youngest brother, Kevin. Apparently, their oldest brother, Marcus, had been acting strange for a couple of weeks and either refused to talk about the events of Weirdmageddon or had forgotten them completely. 

Dipper remembered Wendy telling him something similar during their visit with McGucket. 

“He also said that their youngest brother works with Susan at the diner, who can’t seem to remember the apocalypse either.” Mabel’s voice was confused. “It’s the apocalypse. I’d forget it if I could, but I don’t think that’s super possible anymore.”

“Unless the Society of the Blind Eye was back.” Dipper said, and Mabel frowned. 

“That’s what I was thinking too, but I broke that dumb memory gun years ago. Someone would have had to build a new one, and I’m pretty sure McGucket would have remembered if he built a new--” She cut off her sentence as Dipper gave her a meaningful look. 

“Ah. Right.” Mabel said, her mouth in a flat line. 

***

A day later, Dipper had locked himself away in Ford’s basement again, scribbling furiously at his notes. He hadn’t made any progress on McGucket’s slow petrification yet, but instead he had spent the morning interrogating Wendy over the phone about her older brother’s whereabouts before he had lost his memories.

She hadn’t been able to remember much. “He’s always kept to himself. I don’t get many updates on his life.” But, nevertheless she had given it her best guess, and had supplied Dipper with a few places that he frequented. 

He looked down at the meager list in frustration now.

• Pine grove next to the water tower

• Greasy’s Diner

• Lake during fishing season

• Ton’s Grocery Store

Saying it wasn’t much to go on was an understatement. 

He stared at the second item on the list for a while. His mind already pricked with annoyance, because he knew what he would have to do. He had to talk to someone close to Susan, who would maybe be able to provide more insight into when and (with any luck) where she had been when her memories had gone. 

He groaned, his head flopping into his desk which was scattered with incomprehensible piles of papers and notes. His hand inched towards his phone, as he dragged his head up just enough to stare at it and type in a name from his contacts list. 

Pacifica.