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donutpwns · 7 years

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Journey to the Roots part 5

Part 4 - Part 6

“Mabel, this is a bad idea!” Dipper insists for the hundredth time since they left the Shack. Now that they stood at the entrance to the cave it seemed like an even worse idea than it had when Mabel had first suggested it.

She gives him that look she always does when he argues with her, eyes narrowed and cheeks puffed out. She’s half a second from sticking her tongue out at him. “Do you have a better one?” her response is punctuated with her putting her fists against her hips and leaning in way too close to his face.

He frowns, leaning back when it looks like her nose is about to touch his, “No, but—”

“Then come on!” she grabs his hand and pulls him inside. “Don’t be such a scaredy cat! Grunkle Ford will be super impressed with us, just wait and see!”

The cave is how Ford described it; creepy as all get out. There’s triangles painted all over the walls, images of Bill both terrorizing and being terrorized. Dipper squeezes his sister’s hand; it feels like all the eyes are watching them. Had this place had this...air about it? When Ford had come here? Or is it just because they know what Bill is, what he’s capable of? Dipper doesn’t like it, that’s for sure.

Mabel is putting on a brave face but maybe she leans a bit closer to her brother and squeezes his hand right back. This was a great idea, she was sure of it because all of her non-boy-related ideas were Great with a capital G. Dipper had told her about the cave and the rift and what had happened between Bill and Grunkle Ford, because they’d promised to trust each other and not to keep secrets. So she’d gotten the idea for them to come here to learn more about Bill. In stories, the kind that Dipper loved to gush about and write theories to talk at her about, the end was always at the beginning. Foreshadowing and all that junk.

There was a giant splash of red on one wall that had dripped to cover a bunch of weird symbols. The edges were smeared with shapes that looked like hands. It made Mabel think of a giant finger painting piece. She frowns, leaning forward to sniff at the wall despite the noise Dipper made.

“Mabel, what are you doing?” he pulls her back from the wall, peering around at the other paintings on the walls. Something felt so off about this place. It feels like something is alive in the walls; the air is too warm for a cave even in the summer.

“This paint is fresh.” Mabel points out; she can tell by the smell after all the paint she’d used over the years. She taps her fingers to the wall to find that the paint is dry. “Grunkle Ford was here thirty years ago but someone was here recently.” A chill runs down her spine and she pulls her hand away from the wall. “You don’t think Bill…?”

Dipper swallows thickly. Everything in his gut tells him they need to run but his curiosity sticks him in place. This was to figure out how to stop Bill, to protect Ford and Stan and all of Gravity Falls. Fate of the world stuff. He lets go of Mabel’s hand so he can pull out the notebook he’d tucked into the back of his shorts. Inside it he’s copied down everything Ford had between his Journals about Bill, all the symbols. There had to be something Ford had missed.

WELL WELL WELL WELL WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE?

Their hands tingle and burn. Static. Screams. Noise fills their heads, deafening all sound.

Stan and Ford will be so mad. They have to stop it. They have to stop him. He can’t win.

They just wanted to keep everyone safe.

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Her right eye feels like it’s been gouged out with a hot spoon when she wakes up; the rest of her doesn’t feel too hot either. Her stomach is cramping, head pounding, and she feels like she’s been dunked into a tub full of ice for how cold she is. She squeezes her eyes shut and moves her hands over her arms, trying to burrow her face into water soft thing she’s on. Her sweater sleeves are damp, which might be why she’s so cold.

“Dipperrrr, tell Grunkle Stan to turn up the heat.” She grumbles into the cushion, trying to will herself back to sleep. She could change into dry clothes later and ask Soos to finally fix the dryer. Now she needs to sleep off this yuck-fest.

“Oh, one of them’s awake. Mabel, don’t go back to sleep.” There’s a hand on her shoulder, turning her towards the sound of the voice. “Wake up, sweetheart; we need to ask you some questions.”

She cracks one eye open, the one that’s not burning as bad, and lets out a startled squeak when she sees Grunkle Stan’s face super close to hers. Wait, no. Not Grunkle, it’s her Younkle. Younkle Stan cause this Stan is young and greasy but still just as scruffy. With a groan, she pushes herself to sit up, which is when she sees who is sitting next to her.

In an instant she’s forgotten her pain in favor of latching herself to a disgruntled, young looking Ford. “Younkle Ford! Yay!” she realizes she’s on a couch and stands up on it, hands gripping one of Ford’s shoulders for balance. “Younkle Stan, we found him! And he’s only slightly gross! Oh, hey, Dipper!” she spots her brother sleeping on the other side of Ford and tries to dive over her uncle to get to him. “Dipper!”

Ford catches her before she can grab Dipper, hefting her up only to deposit her right back onto the couch. She huffs and tries to pull away when he leans in close to her face, a tiny flashlight in his hand. This Ford was a lot grumpier than the one she knew. She liked the Ford that called her weird with a smile and shyly asked her to make him a sweater and said her Mabel juice was better than coffee. A scientific breakthrough in energy drinks, and the plastic dinosaurs gave it personality.

“Geez, Ford, you think you could give her a second before going all scientist on her?” Stan grunts and he's got a hand on Mabel’s shoulder. He gives her a small smile though he looks worried so Mabel grins right back at him. “How you feeling, sweetheart?”

Mabel takes stock of herself; her head hurts but not as bad as last time, though her scalp feels very tender for some reason. Her stomach hurts and her mouth tastes like throw up. Her right eye burns and when she forces it open it takes several blinks before she can see out of it. She wants nothing more than to jump on Dipper and wake him up. Why were they both asleep? Was this like their weird allergy thing? Maybe they were finally developing a psychic twin connection like they'd tried to force when they were five. She tries to send silent commands for him to wake up.

Mabel hums as she pulls off her damp sweater and jacket, tossing them to the floor once she's in just her tank top even though it's cold. She burrows herself against Ford’s side; grumpy or not he's still warm. “Bad but not as bad as before. Younkle Ford do you know what's wrong with me? Or how we got here?” she looks up at him with a frown.

Ford’s got this lost dog look on his face, arm hovering over where she's glued to his side. She grabs his hand to force him to give her a one armed hug because hugs make everything better and also warm. He clears his throat and shakes his head. “Ahem, I'm afraid not. There hasn't been much...Mabel, right?” she nods and he smiles just so before covering it with another frown. “Mabel, Stan mentioned you were sick. Were you sick before you came back in time?”

She shrugs. This time when Ford tries to check her eyes with his tiny flashlight she lets him, just cause he keeps the one arm around her. It hurts her eyes but no more than going to the eye doctor and at least Ford won't tell her that she'll probably need glasses in a few years or how bad it is to get glitter in her eyes. “I don't remember too much after Dipper and I left for the cave.”

The flashlight clicks off and she tries to blink away the spots in her vision. “The cave?” Ford’s voice is all shaky and cracks like Dipper’s does sometimes even though Ford is still old even if he’s not old. Mabel gets her arm around as much of his stomach as she can to hug him because he must be thinking about Bill. Stupid dumb jerk of triangle.

“The one with all the paintings. You told Dipper about it.” and they'd gone there to look for...something. The sharp feeling is coming back to her brain as she tries to remember. She realizes the cave is a new memory; she'd forgotten but her dream brought it back. Her stomach gives a now familiar churn when she tries to chase the details; what did the paintings look like? What did they see in the cave?

Why was Stan’s leg wrapped in bandages?

Her uncle kept picking at the edge of them, the heel of his shoe hooked up on the edge of the coffee table he was sitting on. And— oh that was a lot of blood soaking his sock and show. When had Stan gotten hurt? Actually...when had they gotten here? She’d been knitting in the car but now she was here and Ford wouldn’t let her hug Dipper. Panic started bubbling up inside her chest; she couldn't remember. She was losing time again. She was losing time and Stan had gotten hurt and she was supposed to protect her uncles now that she could. She was meant to keep everyone safe. That was the point of it, wasn’t it? She wants to believe so but trying to remember, trying to think is like wading through thick mud filled with sharp rocks waiting to stab her if she makes a wrong step. Her fingers dig tighter into Ford’s sweater as she tries to stare through Stan’s bandages, tries to remember getting to the Shack. She wants to wake Dipper up; wants to cling to him until everything makes sense again. Wants him to explain everything with his nerd words that she doesn’t understand but it makes her feel better because Dipper understands and if he does then they’ll be okay.

A pair of fingers snaps in front of her face, drawing her out of her mania like it had in the car. She blinks rapidly and feels the wetness on her cheeks that she quickly scrubs away, letting go of Ford to do so. Stan’s got that soft worried look again and is saying his ‘just breathe’ mantra.

“I don’t remember. I don’t remember what happened in the cave, I don’t remember how we got sent back, I don’t remember sleeping in the car, I don’t remember getting here. I’m trying but it hurts like I’m not supposed to remember.” The words pour out along with more tears and she can’t even escape to Sweater Town because her sweater is on the floor. She’s shaking all over, not just from the cold, and Dipper is right there but Ford’s got a grip on her shoulder. “Nothing makes sense and Stan’s hurt and I don’t know why. Can we wake up Dipper, please? He-he probably knows what’s going on. He’s smart, like you, Younkle Ford.” She just wants her brother. He’s the key to making everything make sense, she knows it. Everything will make sense once the two of them are together.

Just touch his hand and it’ll be okay.

Stan grabs her forearm when she reaches towards her brother; Ford’s hand grips her shoulder tighter. “Listen, sweetheart, something weird is going on with you and your brother. When you two touched...well…”

“You appeared possessed by Bill and attacked.” Ford says and she feels her stomach drop. “Stan had to forcibly separate you two to stop you. Do you have any memories of that?”

“Holy shit, Ford, ease into it why don't you?”

Possessed? She was possessed by Bill? And she—oh no, Stan’s leg, was that her? Horror filled her heart; she'd hurt Stan! All that blood because of her. Because she'd made Dipper go to the cave and-and whatever happened happened. It was all her fault. The unicorn was right and Stan was wrong, she was a bad person. She’s ruined everything and now she can't even lean on her brother.

How was she going to save Ford and Stan without Dipper? When she just kept making everything worse?

“What’s wrong with Mabel?” Dipper’s voice comes from Ford’s other side and she looks up to see him staring at her. Through her tears she can see that his eyes are red; his left eye looks bloody and he's got red smears under it. He sounds as tired as she feels. A small ember of hope burns when he reaches towards her.

Just touch his hand. Grab it.

Stan catches Dipper’s wrist before they can touch, dousing her ember with ice water. In the back of her mind she swears she hears a hiss.

Ford sighs and finally lets go of Mabel in favor of picking Dipper up off the couch. He sits Dipper next to Stan, still away from Mabel. Mabel slumps against Ford’s side to at least absorb some warmth; this time he puts an arm around her without her having to tug it. A small smile tugs despite how garbage she feels when she looks at his big hand; a whole finger friendlier than normal. She meets Dipper’s eyes and wiggles her fingers in a hello. “Hey, bro-bro.”

Dipper smiles back at her, mimicking her by slumping against Stan’s side. Stan looks as awkward as ever which makes her feel simultaneously better and worse. Dipper coughs into his hand. He looks around, mouth curling down into a frown, “Uhh, where’s McGucket?”

Mabel can practically hear the way Ford grinds his teeth above her; his hand twitches against her side. “After what happened, he elected to return home for the time being. Said he would return tomorrow with his notes on memory loss. Apparently he’s been…busy since we parted ways.” There’s an irritation to his words.

She looks at Dipper; he nods like he knows what she’s thinking. Oh. Poor McGucket. A scrambled man with a mind full of holes. Maybe they can help him, once everything else is done. Stop him from hurting himself, from destroying himself until he’s a laughing stock in the town’s dump.

Dipper looks sad, looks scared, which just serves to make her already mounting guilt seem even more all-encompassing. “Do you not remember anything either, Mabel?”

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He can hear the sounds of his sister crying, muffled through the fog of pain that fills his mind. It's not the sniffling homesick tears he sometimes hears in the night or the melodramatic performance when she's trying to sound more upset than she was. He’s reminded of the night after Mermando had gone home, when she'd cried into his shoulder. Of the way she'd cried about Gideon, about feeling stupid and guilty. The way she'd cried about almost letting Bill destroy the journal.

He pushes himself to sitting, squinting through a blurry haze. There she is, on the other side of Ford, a panicked look on her face and tears streaming down her face. Ford is focusing so hard on her but Stan looks at Dipper as he sits up. Why is she crying? What happened? When had Dipper fallen asleep, so soon after telling Ford that he wasn’t sick? Right after McGucket had seen someone outside—

Stan. He’d seen Stan.

Another stab of pain to his head, like a burn being branded into his eye. He couldn’t remember seeing Stan come in, couldn’t remember seeing Mabel; had he fainted? Is that why he was feeling sick, from fainting? Was that why Mabel was so upset? Were they both sick? “What’s wrong with Mabel?” his throat burns when he speaks and his mouth tastes awful.

She looks up at him, eyes red and filled with tears and he hates seeing her cry. His sister is supposed to be bright colors and sunshine. Loud and annoying, bigger than him and full of screams of joy, not small and quiet. She fills silence, fills the very air, with who she is and this isn’t it.

She needs you. Grab her hand.

Stan grabs his hand before it can get close to hers, drawing him out of the trance he had fallen into. Ford moves him to sit next to Stan, a marked distance between him and his twin; Dipper has to move some books to make room for himself on the table. There were a lot more books on the floor than there were before, he’s pretty sure.

McGucket is gone but at least his notes might help figure out what’s going on with their heads.

“Do you not remember anything either, Mabel?” he frowns, the hope that his sister might be able to shed some light on the situation vanishing. The thought of the cave comes to mind, of being there with Mabel, but with it comes the threat of pain. He needs to remember but there’s a block there, something preventing him from touching the truth and keeping it right out of his grasp.

Mabel curls in on herself and effectively tucks herself even more so into Ford’s side. She shakes her head, “N-no, it hurts to try. But…but they said it’s…” her voice warbles and she hiccups; the wrongness of how not Mabel this hits him, “Dipper, they said he took over when we touched. And he-he-Stan got hurt and it’s all my fault, Dipper. I wanted to go to the cave and now he’s in our heads and it’s all my fault!”

“Mabel, no, that’s not…that’s not possible. Bill can’t take over two people.” he shakes his head, a hopeful smile taking over his face even as Stan grabs his shoulders when he tries to reach for his sister. He looks up at Ford; the smile is hard to keep up with the displeased look on his uncle’s face. “That’s not possible, right, Ford? He can’t do that, right?”

Ford is silent; Dipper doesn’t know if he’s uncomfortable because he doesn’t want to answer or because of how Mabel is crying into his sweater. He’s tapping his fingers fast against the couch cushion.

It’s like the ground has disappeared out from beneath him. Dipper remembers the feeling of being out of his body; that wrong feeling of knowing Bill had been in his head. The idea that Bill was lurking in his mind...just waiting to take control of not just him but his sister too…it sends a shard of ice through his heart, a spike of pure fear. After everything that stupid triangle had done to their family, now he was taking his sister from him too? “Can't you get him out of our heads?” he’s afraid of the answer. Would metal plates work for them, like with Ford in the future? Or would that just trap Bill in? Dipper’s furious with himself for not asking more questions when Ford had decided to trust him.

Ford sighs, rubbing at his eyes with the hand not around Mabel. Dipper’s suddenly struck by how tired Ford looks. He looks up at Stan who is also a lot more exhausted looking than Dipper had noticed at first glance. When was the last time either of his uncles had gotten any proper sleep?

“I don’t know, Dipper. I’ve been looking into ways to rid oneself of Bill and his influence, but it’s all for one person and very invasive. I never even considered the possibility of Bill inhabiting two minds at once. He never…it was always about being in my head, nobody else’s.” he looks away, that uncomfortable look back on his face and his fingers tapping faster against the cushion.

“He said he was a muse.”

“What about the spell we used to go into Grunkle Stan’s mind?” Dipper looks up to see Mabel pulling herself away from Ford, wiping her face on the back of her arm. “When Bill was trying to get the safe code for Gideon?”

Dipper’s face lights up; of course! “That’s right!” They were able to fight Bill on equal ground in Stan’s mindscape and chase him out. If they could do that again—

“That thing/Bill’s been in my/Stanley’s head?” Stan and Ford speak at the same time, both looking equal measures of disturbed at the idea. Dipper shares a smile with Mabel when both their uncles go red at the realization that they spoke in unison. True twins.

Dipper jumps off the table; he sees the way both uncles tense and makes sure to keep a distance from Mabel. She follows suit, climbing up to sit on the back of the couch. Neither of them like that they can’t get close to each other, but Dipper’s sure they can fix it. “Yeah, this jerk summoned him to steal something from Stan’s mind so we used a spell from the Journal to chase after him and get him out. And then we beat him up!”

“With kittens and laser eyes!” Mabel exclaims and the sound of her shout helps settle a good bit of Dipper’s anxiety. She throws her hands up as she makes an explosion sound with her mouth before wincing and clutching her stomach. She waves away Stan when he moves to stand and go to her. It’s a bit, Dipper can tell, but no one has ever been better at hiding away nasty emotions than Mabel. “I’m fine, just still…icky. But yeah! Why can’t we use the spell again?”

Ford says nothing, just stands and disappears in the direction of the stairs. Stan runs his hand through his hair and he keeps glancing over at where his brother went then back between Dipper and Mabel. With a sigh, he sinks into the spot on the couch Ford had been taking up. “…kids, you know this is all really weird for me, right? This is really not how I imagined seeing Ford again.” He shakes his head. “Sh—oot, this has to be way worse for you two, forget about me. How are you two holding up?”

Another wave anxiety; Mabel gives him a shaky grin that he does his best to return. “Nothing the Mystery Twins can’t handle, right?” he laughs when she holds out her fist despite the distance between them. He mimes bumping his against hers and they both pull back with fake explosion sounds. Even if they can’t be in physical contact, he still has Mabel with him and that makes things much better. “We’ve beat Bill before, we can do it again.”

“Yeah! And this time Bill has two sets of Mystery Twins to deal with! Original track and the better, hip remix!” she throws her arms around Stan’s neck and tries to rub her cheek against his before pulling back with an upset sound. “Your face is so scratchy, Younkle Stan. You need to shave. Both you and Younkle Ford look like you’ve glued porcupines to your faces.”

“I don’t have time to shave; there are more important things to do.” Ford says as he returns with his arms full. Dipper takes a moment to be proud that Ford shares his sentiment; that’s why he never does laundry unless Grunkle Stan makes him. The he sees what’s in Ford’s arms and he’s anxious all over again, fingers twitching with the want to grab Mabel’s hand.

Ford drops the candles and, filling Dipper with dread, a large amount of rope onto the coffee table. His face is screwed up in concentration. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before disappearing again. This time when he comes back, he’s got two chairs from the kitchen. Dipper knows what they’re going to have to do but the idea of it still makes his stomach clench.

Grab Mabel and run. There’s still time.

He shakes his head, trying to block out the voice.

Stan picks up one of the candles, tilting it this way and that. “…this cannot be serious. This is some crap that Ma would tell one of her stupid customers to do. What else we gonna do, burn sage? Read some Psalms and blow a ram’s horn?”

“I’m afraid traditional exorcism rituals have no effect on this creature. I uncovered this spell written in the cave where I first summoned Bill and—” Ford blinks before scowling as he seems to catch onto Stan’s sarcasm. He snatches the candle from Stan’s fingers. “I know what I’m doing, Stanley. We just have to put them to sleep and recite the spell.”

Dipper’s stomach twists at the idea of sleeping again, at the dreams that split his mind when he tried to remember them.

Stan looks completely unimpressed with the idea. “And what if they go all yellow eyes again?”

Ford holds up one end of the rope, “That’s what the rope is for.”

Stan opens his mouth, probably to argue against tying up children, but thankfully Mabel jumps off the couch and stands between them. “Haha! Great! Lets do this! No time to argue, there’s triangles to beat up! Right, Dipper? Younkle Ford, we gotta put the candles in a circle, right? I’ll help!” she grabs Ford’s hand and a handful of candles, pulling him to the side to start clearing out a corner of the living room.

Dipper nods, “And Stan! You’re great with knots so we can get the chairs ready!” he tugs Stan by the hand over to the chair, ignoring his uncle’s questioning ‘triangle?’ comment.

It takes fifteen minutes to clear the space, set up the candles, and tie the two of them to the chairs despite Stan’s protests. Dipper’s legs are bound to the chair’s, left arm pinned to his side and right arm free. It’s not the most uncomfortable thing ever, probably thanks to the blanket Stan had insisted in wrapping him in before tying him up. Rope burns could be a pain, apparently. Dipper didn’t want to think about how Stan knew the most comfortable ways to be tied up; none of the answers his brain tried to supply before he shut them down were particularly pleasant. Half made him afraid for his uncle, half made him have war flashbacks to the romance novel Grenda had read when he’d been trapped in Mabel’s body. Mabel was similarly bound, her chair cattycorner from his. They just had to reach out and they could shake hands. Dipper had to crush the urge. Not until Ford was ready.

“You doing okay, sweetheart? The ropes aren’t too tight, are they, kid?” Stan keeps fussing, keeps checking his knots.

“Yep!” Mabel grins at the same time Dipper assures Stan that he’s fine.

Ford finishes lighting the last candle and shakes out the match. He smiles at Dipper and Dipper gets a warm ember in his chest when he gets six fingers ruffling his hair. Mabel gets the same treatment. “I don’t know if this’ll work, but you kids are awfully brave.” His voice is warm before he clears his throat. He pulls a pair of cuffs out of his pocket; not the silver kind that police use but big iron ones like out of some medieval story. They’ve got a bunch of blue symbols glowing in the medal.

Stan lets out a laugh. “Holy crap, Stanford, what are those? Props from your nerd board game?” he takes them from Ford, twisting them around. “What have you been doing all these years? Oh god, do you have a dungeon in your basement or something?”

Ford huffs and snatches them back, “I’ve been working, Stanley. These will ensure that they don’t escape while we’re in their mindscapes. Watch. Dipper, can I see your arm?”

The metal is surprisingly warm against his skin; the symbols glow brighter once the cuff is snapped shut. Dipper takes note that there’s no keyhole on the cuff as his body seems to lock up. He tries to flex his fingers; it takes nearly five seconds for his fingers to twitch. Every thought of movement seems delayed in reaching his body. It’s like he’s been dunked into a pool full of honey, slow and sticky.

Ford clasps the other cuff to Mabel’s arm and Dipper sees her tense, watches the slow way she grins and laughs at the odd feeling. They’re cuffed together but still Ford has to slot their hands together. He sees his fingers lace with his sister’s before he feels it, everything on a delay. Something warm travels up his arm from the contact, a spark traveling through his veins. His left eye stings and waters. Both widen when he sees Mabel blink once before she’s staring back at him with mismatching eyes, one familiar and terrifying.

He wants to scream, wants to tell his Grunkles that this was a bad idea. He wants out; he doesn’t want to do this anymore. This is too much. He doesn’t want to see that look on his sister’s face. Her face spreads into a different kind of grin, lips curling up to show off as many teeth as possible, and he feels his own cheeks aching as he does the same.

“MISSED ME ALREADY?” They say in unison.

Dipper screams in his head. He didn’t say that; he can’t move, he can’t speak.

He’s trapped.

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#journey to the roots #gravity falls #kainichivonwrites #mabel pines #dipper pines #stanford pines #stanley pines #bill cipher #timetrapped AU #timestuck AU #this is also on ao3 if anyone prefers to read it there

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