Feelings (with Aaron Hotchner)
[ the lead up of you and neighbor, Aaron, revealing you have feelings for each other ]
* fluff 🩶 (+ light angst)
** have never watched the show, have never wrote for him and will probably never write for him again but I’ve read a ton of his fics and had this idea and just really wanted to write it out and share it!(pls be nice)
…………….
Aaron is your divorcee neighbor; has been for about a year. Within that year, you’d say you’d become pretty good friends with him as well as with his son who he had with him most weekends. To anyone, it was all seemingly platonic from both ends. You’d bake and gift them batches of sweets and he’d take down any packages you may need sent out on his way to work in the morning…etc.
Any unspoken feelings either of you harbored unfortunately only began to come to light when his ex wife, Hayley, was horrifically killed.
Aaron came to your door as soon as he could the night of the tragedy and with glossy eyes said, “Is this a bad time? I need someone to talk to.”
“No, of course not. Come in,” your voice shook, instantly thinking the worst. “What happened Aaron, where’s Jack? Is he okay?”
“He’s fine, he’s with..with Hayley’s family,” he said, struggling to keep up his stoic demeanor before completely breaking down in sobs. “Oh Y/N.. it’s awful, it’s — … you have- you have no idea.”
That was the first night you ever spent together. He had fallen asleep on your shoulder with teary eyes as you ran your fingers through his hair to soothe him. When you both woke up in the morning, Aaron apologized for burdening you with his troubles and said he had to get going to see what was going on with the funeral preparations. Although neither of you mentioned it, there was a shift in your friendship from that day forward.
After giving him some space to tend to what he needed to do, you went over to his place.
“Hi. I was going to come over yesterday but who wants to see anyone after a funeral..” you said lightly, walking in after he gestured you inside his apartment.
“I would have loved if you did.”
You nodded and tried not to blush as he closed the door. “Is Jack here?”
“No. I’m letting him spend one last day with Hayley’s parents while they’re still in town.”
He then went on to explain how the plan was for his sister-in-law, Jess, to start coming around to help out with Jack when he couldn’t be with him but that in the meantime, he’d be looking after him while he took some time off from work while Jack took some time off from school too.
“Well I hope you know you can also count on me helping out too.”
“I wouldn’t ask that of you, but you’re more than welcome to. I know Jack loves having you around...”
You ordered takeout that night so he wouldn’t have to make dinner or be alone and before you left, promised you’d be back in the morning.
“Y/N, when you said you could help I thought you meant after I went back to work. You don’t have to start rearranging your schedule yet, I’m still going to be around for a couple of days.”
“I know…but I know you and I know you’ve been putting up a brave front for me tonight and you don’t have to do that with me. I want to be here for you to lean on these coming days.”
“I don’t-”
“I’ll be here tomorrow, and don’t forget to drink that cup of tea I made you before bed, ” you said with a quick, parting hug, leaving him no time to protest as you were already back inside your own place.
You ended up helping the following days more than he ever expected. Since you were an assistant to an event planner, you worked mostly from home making and getting calls; the hours were very flexible so it gave you the ability to do all you could for the Hotchner boys.
Meals and household chores, like laundry and dishes, were all easier for Aaron to accomplish with you around; you were such a positive encouragement for both of them as you made sure Jack stayed on top of his tasks too, like making his bed, brushing his teeth and cleaning up after himself.
Of course with being over everyday, Jack began clinging to you more than he ever used to and while you loved the little boy to pieces, you were worried if you being around so much would affect him negatively. When you expressed your worries to Aaron one night after Jack went to sleep, he immediately put them to an end.
“I don’t know if you knew this but Hayley knew about you. Jack would talk to her about you … and she enjoyed it— listening to how much you cared for her little boy,” Aaron told you as you both stood leaning against the island in his dimly lit kitchen before you left for the night.
“I didn’t know that,” you answered, eyes beginning to gloss.
So what if he left out the small detail of Hayley telling him he should ask out his pretty neighbor Jack always talked about; that wasn’t the important part of the memory, well, important for the matter at hand anyway.
“And almost every night before bed, Jack tells me that he’s happy you’ve been coming everyday. That you make him feel ‘okay-er’. Y/N, he loves you and he knows you’re not here to replace anyone.”
Mind at ease then, with a small smile and a stray tear or two, you pushed yourself off the kitchen island and hugged yourself into his chest, which he more than happily accepted and embraced you tightly into for a minute.
“Thanks for making me feel ‘okay-er’ about all this,” you said, looking up at him from where your head rested against him.
He smiled down at you and wiped a tear from your cheek. “Thank you for being here for us.”
All was well as the days went on until it was time for Aaron to return to work. Jack had returned to school the day before and since everything went smoothly, Aaron could then confidently go back to work too knowing Jack had readjusted just fine.
But that morning, Aaron took longer than usual to come out dressed for the day after breakfast, and the time frame he could use to take Jack to school before work was starting to get dangerously close to closing.
“Hey Jack, I’m going to go check on your dad. If he doesn’t come out soon you just might be late for school. Stay put while I get him, finish watching your show,” you said, tickling his side a little making him giggle as you walked off to Aarons room.
You knocked twice at his door and when he didn’t answer either time, you took a little bit of a risk and went in uninvited. What you saw was him sitting on the edge of his bed, looking down at the floor pensively, dress shirt untucked and tie undone around his collar.
“Aaron?” you spoke quietly.
“I can’t do this,” he said, still looking down.
You closed the door behind you and slowly walked towards him.
“You can’t do what?”
“Return to the real world.”
Your eyebrows furrowed a bit as you sat down next to him and waited for him to continue.
“It’s been- it’s been so great being here in the apartment with just Jack and you… in our own little private world but I’m afraid— it just all feels so different. I feel different. I don’t think I’m going back mentally the same way I left.”
“Well of course you’re not going back the same. You went through something incredibly traumatizing..”
You grabbed one of the bottom edges of his tie and looked down at your fingers as you delicately ran them back and forth over the smooth silk.
“Aaron, I know you’re a little nervous of stepping back into everyday life and I’m.. a little nervous for you too but you got this. I believe in you. You’re the best at what you do and nobody can take that away from you,” you said, letting go of the tie. When you looked up at him, his eyes were on you and seemed to be full of fondness; it made you blush.
“N-now finish getting ready so you can go drop off that adorable little boy out there in time,” you smiled, nervously standing from where you sat next to him.
As you turned to walk away, he stood too and stretched his hand out to gently grab one of your wrists. You turned back completely and both just looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds; millions of unspoken words and emotions passing between you.
He then finally spoke.
“I really hope I’m not ruining anything but more than ever, I think it’s important to tell you I’ve had feelings for you for pretty much as long as I’ve known you.”
“I’ve had those feelings too, for you,” you admitted.
Relieved, he smiled and you did the same. Slipping his hand down from your wrist, he then took your hand into his properly and interlocked his fingers with yours.
Towering over you like always, he stepped closer and closer and slowly craned his head down as he gently placed the hand that wasn’t holding yours, behind your head. You both closed your eyes and you could feel his lips right in front of yours but could tell he was hesitant to go further.
“Kiss me Aaron,” you told him with a little tremble in your voice. And although you couldn’t see him, you felt him smile before he softly pushed his lips against yours.
Your first kiss was a tender one but after the initial pull away, both his hands landed on your waist and yours around his neck as you leaned back into each other for a more heated and passionate kiss. It was an internal struggle, but eventually you managed to pull yourself away from his lips completely.
“Jack needs to get to school,” you giggled.
Aaron rested his forehead against yours. “And I need to get to work. This beautiful neighbor of mine believes in me and I don’t want to let her down.”
“Hm, sounds like a smart girl,” you teased.
He stood tall and interlocked his hands with each of yours. “Incredibly smart, incredibly caring, incredibly attractive.. the list could go on,” he concluded, embracing you with a warm hug and a kiss to the top of your head. <3
178 notes
·
View notes
🫧We’ve got nothing but time.🌤️
Douce amere chapter 18, older!dipper pines x reader, ~6.7k words masterlist Prev
What had Dipper learnt? It was July twenty-first, and it had been for nearly a week, stuck on the day after Bill possessed you and attacked him. You were in the kitchen in the morning, and hung out with Stan in the evening for an unknown amount of time. Mabel stayed in the shack all day, and Ford worked downstairs, probably. Dipper hadn’t seen him. And nobody else seemed to notice the repetitions.
This was stupid. Downright stupid. That was about all Dipper was certain of, but he had his other suspicions. The first time he did today was when he found that weird cave, that seemed most logical. And it if wasn’t that, he was totally fucked with no other leads or clues.
So off he went. Dipper quietly sidestepped Mabel’s questions as he grabbed for his bag. At least she was confused, which meant she was distracted from what happened… yesterday. The last thing Dipper wanted was a repeat of the conversation they had… however many days ago. Iterations of today. It was all he could do to trudge out the door on heavy feet and keep his eyes forward.
Okay. This is fine. He would go to that weird supernatural cave pond, and this would end. Tomorrow would happen.
Oh god. How did time loops even work? If weirdness was just in Gravity Falls, was time passing outside of it? Dipper shook his head as he stumbled into the brush of the forest. Maybe time was passing and he was just insane. Dipper couldn’t tell if that would be better, or worse.
As he ambled through the woods, he came to an unfortunate, unrelated realization. He had no idea where to go. The sun was coming up, just light enough to see clearly. He’d come to the fairytale part of the woods, that was a good sign. A few flickering fireflies left over from the night were still idly buzzing around close to the ground around colourful mushrooms. He’d definitely come through here last time, but he was mindlessly running away, then. He wasn’t trying to remember the path. Hell, even if he was, he probably wouldn’t.
Dipper furrowed his brow as he came to a fork in the path, squinting as he tried to remember which way. Fuck, this sucked. He took a gamble for left.
The sun was high overhead when he got there. The same grove, just as it had been days ago. Dipper sighed when he came to it, the slightclearing at the face of the cliff, hands on his knees to brace himself. God, how little had he slept this whole time? It was starting to weigh on him. Even just an afternoon of walking was enough to leave him stumbling.
At least he knew his body was experiencing time. Dipper thought about it as he approached the cave entrance, without the hesitation of curiosity this time. He definitely felt like it had been a few days without proper sleep, that much was certain as he tripped through the tunnel with all the grace of Grunkle Stan on a Friday night.
The water was still running down the floors and the walls towards the puddle chamber. Dipper didn’t bother trying to step on his tip toes or around the streams. With wet shoes, and without a flashlight, he groaned his way to the dim light.
It still shone like a full moon, with ripples of the water reflecting all around the wide cave walls, sparking on the specks of minerals encrusted inside. Dipper stood miserably before it, staring in. His reflection stared back.
Hmmm. Last time the reflection was off, bad angle and extra people. This time though, it was just plain old him, exactly how he should look. The picture flickered with its drips like a puddle, and less like a mirror, or a gateway between worlds. That’s weird. Or there was always the off chance he was hallucinating last time. Or this time. Sighing, he pulled the journal out of his bag, and flipped to the last few pages he wrote.
He was already reading by the time he noticed. He was reading. There were words written about the cave. Dipper squinted as he eyed the journal. He wrote those in the timeloop. Were objects immune? If it only affected people that would confirm time was passing.
Dipper grimaced as he made note of it all. Any other time, this would be a fun mystery to unravel, an interesting thread to pull. If time was looping on any other day…
Scratch that. It could be worse, he realized. It could have been yesterday. Oh god. His eyes widened as it dawned on him; he could’ve been stuck reliving the moment that you- Bill towered over him trying to kill him. His hands flew to his mouth to cover it instinctively as a shiver travelled up his spine. Deep breaths.
Dipper knelt down slowly, balancing on the balls of his feet as he stared down into the glowing puddle. Ugh. His reflection looked worn down. Far worse then last time. Well, what it showed last time wasn’t real. Unfortunately. The bangs under his eyes seemed to be pulling down his face, far deeper than usual, and outlined with dark circles.
Sighing, he touched the pond. That’s all he did last time, right? He just splashed it and the reflections vanished, and that was kinda weird.
Nothing happened. Maybe because nothing was happening. No mystery in the water this time, and nothing to disturb with his heavy hands. Dipper pursed his lips. Did it… work? Was he out? He glanced around. Nothing looked or felt different. He splashed around again, waving his hand in the puddle as of to tread water. He could feel his lips turning into a scowl. This was stupid.
Against all odds, he managed to stand up, pushing himself off his legs and staring down at the puddle. Same old reflection. Dipper sighed. Was there anything else he could do here?
He couldn’t think of anything logical. He spared the pool one more glance, and turned back. He swallowed hard as he stepped back into the sunlight, a growing anxiety building in his chest. Dipper looked back at the cave entrance, it’s maw staring at him from the cliff face, and he shivered despite the summer heat.
Fuck this. He went back to the shack, trekking through the woods, following the path he blazed in his tired trudge this morning. Still, it was evening when he got back. Dipper squinted at the shack from a distance. What happened in the evening? The first time, Mabel greeted him at the door, and told him you and Stan were together… somewhere. He couldn’t remember.
So… no front door. Mabel could survive one today without seeing him. Dipper winced. If this is her first time, that would hurt. He thought back to the way she cried during their first morning conversation, or her tired face in the evening. He stared at the front door from the tree line. If he fixed the timeloop, then this would be the permanent version. The version she remembered. Is that what he wanted? For her to think he’d run away, abandoned her completely? He glanced at his wrist, the slowly healing bruise your foot had left when Bill attacked him. No. He could do better.
Sighing, he walked to the front door, and Mabel opened it before he even reached the handle. He might have been growing desensitized to the raw emotion in the shack, but Mabel’s tired eyes still struck a dull pain in his chest. Yeah. This was the right choice.
He hugged her, spoke to her, and sat with her until he passed out, brain melting and numbing to the sound of vaguely familiar Gravity Falls tv.
…
He dreamt of burning. A burning pain in his wrist and arm, a burning feeling in his chest, and the burning light in your eyes that flickered and sparked with hate when you looked over him. That image was so clear. Your- Bills sadistic grin while he was pinned. Like it was seared into his brain like a brand. Felt like burning.
And he woke in his bed, his body holding into that burning feeling with a vice grip. With sweaty hands he wiped his sweaty forehead. Bed. And then it all went cold. Somebody could have brought him there. There was a non zero chance he wasn’t in the loop.
It was dark outside. Mabel slept, with all her stuffed animals bundled near her head. He didn’t want to wake her to ask, at least one twin deserved sleep. There was one good litmus test though. Quietly, he stood, creaked open the door, and descended the stairs.
There were lights on, but that wasn’t something exclusive to today. That could mean anything. Non zero chance.
Light was on in the kitchen. Dipper winced, stopping short. Maybe you weren’t in there. Ugh. The sinking feeling in his chest only grew when he approached, and he head a few familiar sniffles and shuffles. God fucking dammit. There you were. On the floor. With a coffee pot in your lap and a half empty mug beside you. Dipper gritted his teeth, staring at you a moment.
Dipper could barely hear you ask your familiar question; “do you…” you started. “Do you want some?”
He blinked, and waited a moment. Well shit. It was still today. He was so fucked. Wordlessly, he walked out, leaving you to your usual activities… whatever those were. He didn’t care to find out. Aimlessly, he walked through the house. So completely fucked.
Or… maybe not. His eyes caught on the vending machine in the gift shop, and he grimaced. If anyone knew anything about this, it was probably Ford. He probably could’ve thought of that yesterday. Ugh. Another today wasted on a bad hunch.
He sluggishly typed in the code, and the vending machine popped open to reveal the stairs behind it. Ford might be awake. Hell, he totally was, Dipper thought as he went down. No shot Ford could rest more then he could while Bill was out there.
He stopped at the study. The room that once terrified him, lined with alters and shrines to Bill. With a sigh, he knocked gently on the door. He hasn’t seen Ford today. His schedule was the only complete mystery.
He heard a few paper shuffle on the other side, before hasty steps came toward the door. It slowly opened to an only slightly dishevelled Ford. “Dipper,” he said, opening the door all the way. “Are you alright?”
Dipper smiled as he came in, “Yeah I’m… fine.” He glanced around. There was writing on the whiteboard, scribbles he wasn’t even sure Ford could read. The desk was covered in papers, some looked old and yellowed, some white and new, with pen ink drips staining most of them. “Grunkle Ford, uh-“ Dipper started, turning back to his great uncle. He sucked a breath in through his teeth. How to word this? “Have you noticed anything… weird, lately?”
Fords expression hardened, his brow furrowed with curiosity. “Well, Bill,” he said simply. “Is that what you mean?”
Dipper shook his head, lips pursed.
“I thought so,” Ford said, sounding disappointed. He gestured at the white board, “I have no idea who wrote most of that.”
Dippers eyes widened. Right. Objects weren’t affected. That meant… anyone could learn about it if they left themself something in writing.
“My best guess is I’m being possessed,” Ford said sadly. “The writing is clearly mine, but I don’t recall doing it. I’m not certain what Bills return means, but if he can possess my body even with my metal plate,” he tapped his head for emphasis, “then we’ve got big problems.”
Dipper looked at the floor. “I, uh, don’t think that’s it,” he started, scratching at his wrist. “What if there’s some sort of a time-loop, and you wrote that yesterday, and you just…” he met his mentors eyes, “don’t remember.”
Ford raised his brow. “You… know something about this? He asked.
Dipper nodded, eyes glued to the floor. “So far I’m the only one who’s noticed,” he muttered.
Ford seemed sceptical, all six fingers tapping against his chin as he looked over Dipper intently. He hummed, “are you certain?” And sighed when Dipper nodded again. Ford grimaced, and kicked over a stool on wheels and a swivel, gesturing for Dipper to sit.
Sighing, he did, his feet idly pushing him back and forth in small motions. Ford pulled another chair out from behind the whiteboard, and sat down in front of him, hands laced together and held against his lips, as if to hold back words. Dipper shuddered thinking about what he might say. At least he believed him.
“How long?” Ford ask simply, unreadable tone or expression.
He swallowed. How long had it been? He wasn’t keeping track at first, and the days seemed to blend together in the pile of mush that was his brain. God. “A few days… maybe a week?” Dipper sighed. “I don’t know for sure.”
Ford pursed his lips, brow furrowed. “Okay, can you start from the beginning?”
Ugh. How many beginnings had there been? And the one he thought was the key turned out to be a dud, and wasted another day. Dipper grumbled, went through it from the top. As much as he could remember. He thought about leaving out what he saw in the puddle, since admitting to hallucinating didn’t seem like a great idea, but if anyone would understand, it would be Ford. So he told him.
Ford listened intently, and groaned when he was done. Ford adjusted his glasses a few times as he grimaced, “Well, this isn’t ideal,” he managed.
Dipper sighed.
”-But there’s… probably a way out,” he finished. He tapped his fingers against his chin. “You said you saw… us, in the pool, correct?”
Dipper nodded, grumbling. Suddenly that part seemed really dumb. He got lured into a weird puddle by hallucinating something that probably happened, like, a few days ago. Longer than that, now.
“That’s… interesting,” Ford said, transfixed on Dippers face. Or maybe he was looking through him. “I might be familiar with the concept.”
Dipper waited for him to say more on the subject. It took a few moments of silence for him to speak again.
“I encountered a similar issue in another dimension,” Ford started, swivelling his chair over to his desk to flip through the papers. “I doubt I have the written record anymore,” he said, shuffling them around. “Actually, I don’t even think I wrote it down… it wasn’t something I particularly wanted to study.”
Dipper swallowed. Alright. So he was stuck in a situation that even Ford wasn’t comfortable with. Just great.
“It was just after I left the alternate dimension where I never fell into the portal,” Ford sighed, putting his papers down. He grabbed around his desk until his hand landed on a pen, and he started to write while he spoke. “There was a fountain, and I guess I was feeling,” he rubbed the bridge of his nose, “homesick.”
”What… did you see?” Dipper asked, fearing where this was going. What it meant for him.
“Oh lots of things,” Ford sighed wistfully, not looking up from the paper that was now splattered with ink. “Stanley,” Ford said. “And Fiddleford, firstly. I never imagined they could be friends, but they were in the vision.”
Dipper shivered as he spoke. Homesick, huh? The image of himself with you, Mabel, Stan and Ford knocked around his head. And Grunkle Ford wasn’t done. “And my lab was there, from the alternate world. I had it all, so to speak.”
”Did you touch the water?” Dipper asked, wincing.
Ford nodded, and Dipper could see him start to sketch a drawing. “I did, and that’s how it started. I’d left that dimension by nightfall, but by morning I was waking up right back where I started.”
”Well, how’d you make it stop?” Dipper sighed, this time with relief. If Ford could get out, so could he, right?
Ford spun in the chair to face him, looking grave. “To this day, I’m still not sure.”
Well shit. Statement rescinded.
“I was stuck for a long time,” Ford paused, and eyed Dipper intensely. Dipper couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “I’m not sure how it happened, but one day it just… ended.”
Dipper blinked. “And you have no idea how?” He blurted out.
Ford shook his head. “I don’t,” he sighed, resting his head on his palm. “I’ll do some thinking on it, or try to find anything written about it, and see if I can find something to help you,” he said sadly.
Well, fuck. Dippers foot bounced on the floor anxiously, and he wiped some sweat off his palms onto his pants. So he was on his own. Sort of. Maybe Ford would find something. But how long could that take? How long was he stuck? Dipper guessed… too long, if even Ford didn’t want to write this one down. Something better left forgotten. Dipper swallowed, and stood up, “Okay, well,” he started. “I’ll try to figure something out, then.”
Without another word, he left. Okay, so. What did he learn? He might be so fucked. He glanced around the gift shop. Completely empty. The sun was up outside… so the shacks probably closed. Dipper sighed. Wendy wasn’t here either. Guess she had the day off.
Dipper walked to the counter with the register, and rested his elbows on it. He had to figure this out. Time was still passing. He had to get out of this. Mabel might kill him for cutting her summer over a week short.
He needed a plan.
…
He did not come up with a plan. That marked two days since finding out that that were compete busts. He groaned, waking up from another nightmare. Those were some of the only things that changed from day to day. At least there was a little variety. At least he had Fords help now. Hopefully he left himself a note to remember.
Ugh. Today might have been the groggiest yet.
Dipper ambled down the stairs. He was getting that coffee. This one doesn’t matter. He was still stuck in today, and unless something crazy happened, he would be tomorrow too. He deserved a break, a cheat day, if you will. It had been over a week of this shit. Today was becoming a full time job. Dipper took a deep breath, and gripped the kitchen doorway. “Out,” he said decisively, really more of a demand, pointing his thumb at the door as he pushed through.
You were slow, looking up at him with confused eyes for a moment before you tried to come to your feet. Your legs were shaky, and seemed stiff. God, how long do you sit there each day? Dipper looked down at you a moment before turning his head back to the cupboard.
He scowled when he saw it, his fingers curling around the cupboard panels until the tips turned white. There was none left. “Y/n,” he said, whipping his head around. You were nearly out the door, but stopped like a deer in headlights. “Did you finish-“ he glanced down at the mug in your hand.
You followed his eyes to the half empty cup, then drifted back up to him.
Dipper sucked a sigh in through his teeth, approaching you for the first time in… a while. “I need that more than you do,” he said tiredly.
Timidly, you handed him the cup. His tired reflection swirled in the dark, tepid liquid. Nothing about it looked completely appealing, truth be told.
“Um, Dipper,” you started, looking at the floor. It was only once you spoke that he realized you were still there in front of him, and hadn’t scurried away. You were tired as always, but your clothes seemed far worse for wear than they did before: decorated with stains, a little dirt and dust. Guess that checks out. If you just slept in whatever you were wearing, you’d never change clothes. Had you not changed clothes all loop? “-and I’m just- just sorry, I guess.”
Oh shit. Dipper blinked a few times, tuning back in. He hadn’t registered much of what you said. You were looking at him expectantly, wide eyes like glass. If there was one thing to note about you, it was how little you looked like Bill. Your mouth was held in a restful frown, and brow raised as you waited. And you body language wasn’t anywhere near the way Bill carried you. Your hands fidgeted at your chest, and the cruel and smug confidence was gone. Dipper couldn’t see Bill at all. Just you. Just you. And you looked rough.
He sighed. Just you. “Not now, alright?” Dipper said. At least he could look you in the eyes. That was… maybe a first. He couldn’t remember. But he wasn’t started by the movement of your hands, or the flicker of your eyes today.
And he must not have sounded too harsh, because you didn’t seem too bad after. You nodded, slow at first and then quickly, and turned and shuffled away, and Dipper was alone again.
He looked into the coffee again, thinking back to the same way the cave puddle swirled when it lured him in. He sighed, slinking back to the counter to lean on as he sipped the, admittedly terrible, coffee. He couldn’t take a cheat day. He had to figure this out. You looked terrible. At least he wasn’t stuck in the same way you or Mabel were. You’d spent the last week sad and on the floor. Dipper frowned, sighing. You didn’t deserve that. As much as he might’ve said otherwise a few todays ago.
Okay. He had to think through this. What does he know? The water lures people in by showing them stuff. Stuff they want. And it’s escapable, Ford was able to do it. But he said it took him a while, and he had no idea how it happened.
The water seemed to think the thing Dipper wanted was for thing to go back to normal, with you, Mabel, His Grunkles. The stupid puddle might’ve been right.
The question seemed to be: was there something there? Something to do with that? Or was that just the predatory strategy it used to draw people in? If that was the case, then he was even more fucked, because that was his only lead. The only thing in common between him and Fords experience was the water, and that.
Dipper paced around the shack. He walked a few circles through the house part, the tourist part, the parlour. He needed a plan. Something with the water… or something with the things in the water… Dipper scratched at his chin. Ugh. There had to be something. Maybe his brain was too tired to think straight.
He walked through the tourist trapped hallways as he thought, and Dipper stopped dead in his tracks when he heard Stan’s voice a room over. He hadn’t seen Stan a single time in the loop. Mabel said that he was with you in the evening, but it was barely noon. Carefully, he stayed still and quiet enough to listen. “Hey kid,” Stan said.
He heard vague shuffling noises, and decided he needed to get closer. He edged his way to the wall, careful to keep his steps quiet.
“Hello,” you said softly.
Dipper pressed his ear to the wall despite himself. This probably wasn’t his conversation to hear.
Stan’s voice was soft, but confident. “Listen kid, it happens to the best of us. I’m proof of that,” he laughed. Dipper felt his lips curl in into the smallest of smiles.
You must not have been convinced, because you stayed quiet.
“You’ll be fine, Y/n,” Stan said. “They’ve all done this before, they know how to bounce back.”
”I don’t want to be in their nightmares,” you said, and Dipper winced. You knew all too well about his. And you weren’t far off. You’d been a feature in most of them lately. He carefully and quietly slumped against the wall to support, and sunk to the floor. It sucked that you were right.
Stan sighed. “Yeah, that sucks,” he said. Tactful, as always, Dipper thought, rolling his eyes. But Stan wasn’t done, “but you’ll be there to help with those.” Oh. Dipper curled his knees close to his chest. Yeah, normally you would be.
“I don’t think they want that,” you said. Also right. God, it sucked when you were right. Each word tightened a knot in his chest.
“They’ll come around. I think Dipshit will just take a bit,” Stan said.
Dipper decided he should probably stop listening. You weren’t wrong often, and he didn’t want to hear what you had to say about… him. If you were right again, and you didn’t… you weren’t.. if you didn’t think he could come around.
He stood up, slowly and carefully, and kept pacing around. He could get you guys out of this. He had to. Relieving those emotions everyday sounded like hell on earth.
…
At least the nightmares were getting better. Not great, but less intense, more of a dull ache than a stabbing pain. That was something, right? Dipper went to the kitchen. Guess there was no avoiding you if he wanted to eat. But he might be okay seeing you today.
Well, there you were. As always. On the floor, this time with a can of peaches, since you’d used up the coffee yesterday. Your face was still blotchy from… probably crying. Guess Dipper couldn’t judge. You were looking up at him with wide eyes full of guilt, and he cringed.
Sighing, he walked over, and slumped down beside you, back to the cupboards. “Hey, Y/n,” he said tiredly.
You swallowed, clutching the peach can in your lap. “Um, hey, Dip,” you said timidly, throat sounding ragged and rough. You gestured at the can, “Do you… want some?”
Dipper smiled weakly, shaking his head. You always offer him whatever you have. “I’m good,” he said.
He looked you over again. Nothing new, really. At least he wasn’t seeing Bill. The worst part was that he didn’t know what to say to you. It had been a while since you’d both spoken, at least for him. And worse for you; you were probably still recovering from being possessed.
And he didn’t normally get this close to you. It was only at this angle that he saw the fading bruise on your jaw just past your chin. The spot he hit you with the journal. “Sorry about, uh-“ Dipper started, and gestured at the same place on himself. “Getting you, the other day.”
You shot him a weak smile. “Ah, don’t be,” you said, voice light. “Glad you did. And it… doesn’t hurt much, actually.”
Yeah, it’s practically healed by now, he thought. Dipper winced thinking about earlier loops. Drinking all that coffee must have hurt. Even now, the bruise was a slight yellow.
“I’m sorry about getting you, too,” you said, looking at the floor and holding up and tapping your wrist. “Must suck.”
Oh right. Dipper had practically forgotten. He turned over his hand to look at his wrist where your foot had been pressed. It was practically gone. He might’ve been happy it healed if it didn’t mean he’d been in this loop for longer than he’d like.
“Oh,” you said, eyes catching the same way his did. “It’s-“ you stopped for a moment, and looked back to his face. “I’m glad that didn’t leave much of a mark,” you murmured.
“It did,” he said, and immediately regretted it. That wouldn’t make any sense to you. Well. You probably wouldn’t remember tomorrow, anyway. “It, uh, really hurt for a while. I think the bruise is just… healed.”
You smiled, almost laughing. It looked a little unnatural, given your somewhat puffy eyes and dirty clothes. “Well, that’s good,” you said softly.
Dipper couldn’t help but smile a little. He hadn’t realized how much he missed you these past days. Even if you kind of sucked. “Actually,” he said, pointing at your peach can. “I do want one.” He aimlessly reached up, and pulled open a drawer above him, scrounging around until he found a fork. “May I?” He asked.
Wordlessly, you held the can out to him, and he stabbed a peach slice through. He cupped one hand under it to catch any dripping juice. It was sweet.
“Hey, Dipper,” you said hesitantly. “I’m- uh, sorry that I got us into this.”
He sighed, wiping a little peach juice from the corner of his mouth. He pursed his lips. “It’s… fine,” he managed. It mostly wasn’t, but whatever. It was fine enough. Nobody died.
You stared at the floor, putting your can of peaches down so you could fidget with your hands. “Not really though, right?” You said. “I mean, this sucks. I know you and Mabel gotta hate this… and Ford and Stan.” You tapped your fingers against the tile floor, your leg bouncing a little with each word. “I mean, I thought for a second that he was gonna kill you,” you said, finally tuning your eyes back to him.
“I-“ Dipper faltered. You weren’t wrong. It might’ve been your voice bouncing around his head saying: when are you ever? “I couldn’t’ve let him kill me,” Dipper said, completely lacking confidence. And you had to know that. Dipper wasn’t sure who he was lying for: you or him. Bill did almost kill him, and he almost let it happen.
You looked over at him, eyes wide with worry. “If you say so…” you trailed off. Your eyes held on his a moment longer before you sighed, grabbing your peaches again. “I’m just sorry that this happened. I should have…” you pursed your lips. “I don’t know,” you said.
“It’s…” Dipper swallowed. “It’s not all your fault,” he said, surprising himself. He mostly knew that. “I mean, it is party, but-“ he started, looking at the wall. The kitchens faded wallpaper looked right back, staring through him with its faded stain eyes. “Bill tricks people, it’s what he does. And this wouldn’t never have happened if I just mentioned what he looks like,” Dipper admitted, the weight of the words nearly crushing him.
You stared at the wall with him, silent for a few beats. The fridge dully hummed in the background. “It’d been a really good summer before all this,” you said wistfully.
Dipper smiled tiredly at you. “Yeah,” he said, “It was.” Maybe even the best. No, definitely. He thought back on things… he’d really waited years to kiss you, didn’t he? And Mabel was doing shockingly well at flirting this summer, too. And he didn’t realize you and Stan were as close as you were, before yesterday. And at least he had Ford to help him through this.
Oh god. Everything he wanted. You, Mabel, Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford, that’s all that stupid puddle showed him. All he wanted. For things to go back to normal.
It was like you could read minds. “Do you think things can go back to normal?” You asked, still staring blankly in front of you, the weight of your eye bags bringing down your face.
Dippers palms were sweaty. Could they? “I- I don’t know,” he stuttered. He licked his lips, suddenly realizing how dry they were. “I want them too.”
You smiled sadly, “well, that’s not the question, is it?” His chest tightened as you curled your legs up closer to you, and stared at the floor by your feet. “I do too,” you sighed, “But I’m not sure they will.”
Well that was the truth, wasn’t it? That he might not get… the only thing he wants. Things might not go back to normal. His face fell, and he stared at you. A wave of grief hit him all at once. He got to study your side profile for a moment before you finally turned to face him, that same sad smile still on your lips. You looked like you’d aged a year in a week. He couldn’t have been doing great, either. It was only, well, yesterday that you’d looked like yourself.
But that wasn’t you, it was Bill. This is what you looked like now. The same, but different. A little tired. At least you were you, even if you might not be the person from before, anymore.
You cut through the silence like a butcher, “if things are different,” you started, glancing over at him. He could see you chewing the inside of your cheek. You swallowed, eyes drifting back to the floor. A pained look crossed your face as you took a deep breath, “I think I could live with that, if I still had you guys with me.”
Dippers mouth hung just slightly open as he stared at you. Oh god. He felt like he’d been hit by a train. If you still had them with you. The words bounced around his… seemingly empty head. He felt a sinkhole in his chest where his heart usually was. If you had them with you. And here he was avoiding you like the plague the last few days, he could almost laugh. If you still had them with you, you could live with it.
Dipper didn’t realize he was crying until he tasted a tear. Shit. He hastily wiped his eyes on his sleeve. If you had them with you. What did the time puddle show him? You, Mabel, his family? “I think,” he said. It came out weak. He cleared his throat to steady his voice, “I think I could live with that too.”
You looked up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. Your eyes flickered back to the floor, “Well, that’s good.”
Dipper blinked, his eyes were still watery. You were just a little blurry, as his eyes fixed on your face. Man, you’d barely smiled this whole loop. It almost looked foreign. If I had you with me, huh? Yeah. He’d survive as long as he had them all with him. He smiled, wiping his eyes again. “Hey, I’m sorry for avoiding you these past… last night,” he said, sniffling. “I probably should’ve made sure you were okay.”
You shook your head, “It’s… fine,” you smiled. You crossed your legs, skewering another peach slice on a fork, and offering him the can. He poked another onto his fork, too. “I get it, Dip,” you assured. “Nothing to apologize for.”
Well, you didn’t know the whole story, did you? Dipper sighed, “still, I am. Cheers?” He asked, holding his peach fork out to you.
You smiled, and clinked your slice against his, “Cheers.”
The kitchen tile floor had a few drops of peach juice on it, and a couple coffee stains from the previous days, but it was still comfortable. Maybe you were into something, sitting here this whole time. Dipper leaned back, his back sliding further down the cabinet. If I have you all with me, I can live with it, he thought. Unfortunately, you had some pretty good words sometimes. Things might not be how he saw them in that dumbass puddle, but… that’s fine. Things had changed before, and he survived. As long as he had his people. He could feel the tears fighting to get out again.
“I’m going to get you out of this,” Dipper sighed.
You half smiled, nodding at him, “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said again. All of this. First the loop, then… the rest. Dipper stood up, brushed himself off, and looked down at you. “I’m going to figure something out,” he promised.
You smiled, “Go get em‘.”
…
Dipper tried to. He paced, he thought, he talked to Ford, who wrote himself a note to remember. And they came up with some ideas, some stupider then others. Some plans: what if he drank the water? What if he just told everyone? What if he left Gravity Falls? He talked to Mabel a little. He saw Stan, since this time he didn’t end up comforting you. Guess Dipper did that, himself. Or… more the other way around. He ended the day feeling better then he started.
He still woke up early, though, still felt sluggish as he went down the stairs. Later then before, though. At least it was light out. Food, and then Ford. And he’d quickly tell you everything was fine while he was there. He smiled when he saw the lights on under the kitchen door.
What. The hell. The kitchen was in fact, empty. Dipper blinked, caught in the doorframe. Where… or, shit. What the fuck happened? He looked around for traces of you. There were still coffee stains on the floor, and an empty can of peaches on the counter… but nothing new. Was he out?
He thought he would be thrilled to see something change, but instead his heart was stuck in his throat. Where’d you go?
It wouldn’t make any sense for him to be out, he didn’t do anything. His legs only started to work when he got the idea to find Ford. He stumbled to the vending machine, punched the code, and sped down the stairs.
Dipper didn’t bother to knock on the study door. “Grunkle Ford,” he said, swinging the door open. “What was yesterday?”
Ford whipped his head around, practically jumping out of his skin. He was standing at the white board, seemingly reading the notes they’d scribbled last time. “We came up with ideas to get you out of a time loop,” Ford said. “But I was thinking-“
“-you remember it?” Dipper asked, cutting him off.
Ford nodded, “I do. Can I assume this means something worked?”
Dipper shook his head. “That wouldn’t make any sense,” he said, pacing closer and around the room. “We had ideas, but… I didn’t do anything.”
Ford sat down as Dipper walked in circles. “You know, I wasn’t sure how I got out, either,” he said. He tapped his fingers along his chin. “Maybe it… ran its course,” he suggested.
“Only, like, a week…ish?”
Fords mouth hung open, “you’re lucky, mine was months…” he mumbled, fingers still tapping. His eyes were fixed on the floor as he hummed.
As Dipper paced, he caught Fords face fallen with lament, eyes softening on the floor. “You know, the fountain showed me my brother, and Fiddleford… that’s what it thought I wanted,” he started hesitantly. “By the time I was out, I resented them both, and wanted nothing to do with either.”
Dipper stopped pacing. “I saw… normal stuff,” he said. Things going back to the way they were. Things he’s okay with not having, as long as his family is with him.
Ford shook his head, “I’m not sure.” He stood up, and wiped off the whiteboard of plans. “Well, no matter,” he said, eraser in hand. “That’s one problem out of the way.”
Dipper nodded idly, still puzzled. He went back upstairs. What day was it? Things looked different outside. When he ascended to the gift shop, it was bright out. Yeah, that was new. He walked the shack aimlessly. Well, he did it. He checked his phone. July twenty-eighth.
He ambled around, and stopped in front of Soos’ break room. Quietly, he knocked on the door. He felt a little dumb standing alone in the hall when nothing happened. Maybe you weren’t staying in there.
But then he heard the shuffles. And the door creaked open, you on the other side. “Uh, hey,” you said softly.
Oh wow. It was a trip to see your face this way. You hadn’t been crying, your eyes weren’t red, you looked… better. Dipper sighed, a weight coming off his chest, “Hey.”
Next
Fellas I just couldn’t resist. I thought this chapter might kill me when I was writing it. Like I thought “hey what if I explored dippers trauma response and the lasting effects of bill” and then it turned into like 13k words between both parts 😭
Taglist: @cipheress-to-k-pop @dead-esque (lmk if you want to be added)
16 notes
·
View notes