#whats this? a second fic in 5 days? holyshit

[captainkaladinstormblessed]

When the Night Falls Quiet (Chapter 1)

co-written with @akadefenders

Relationships: Finn/Poe Dameron

Summary:

In the aftermath of the destruction of Starkiller base, Finn is hurt, and Poe is hurting alongside him. Poe realises that courage isn’t just flying an X-Wing into battle...

[read on AO3]

[sevralships]

“Just Because You Can” Part 6 of 7, Chapters 20-22

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7 FIN]

The Pines triplets, Mabel, Dipper, and Jolene, have always been best friends. But lately, there’s been some distance growing between the Mystery Kids, due in part to the forbidden feelings with which they are each struggling. How will they manage to see eye to eye, when torn between wanting each other and craving adventure?

(This is a new AU that I’ve been calling Jolene AU, devised by myself and @handleonthescandal​ after one of us asked the question “What if Mabel and Dipper were triplets but with another sister?”. Although this AU is similar, it is not connected to Double Dippin’ AU, and Jolene is in no way connected to Tyrone.)

Shoutout to @sirwaddlesesquire for being the trustiest squire and an insightful, helpful, and supportive beta.

Mostly SFW, mostly angst with some action/adventure and a little bit of fluff, tw incest

Fic under the cut, enjoy!

Chapter 20: The Elephant In the Car

“Oh this is great!” Dipper said hotly, smacking the steering wheel with both hands, “This is just fan-fucking-tastic!” They were only a couple miles from the exit to Lone Pine, California, but red brake lights stretched about as far as they could see, “Why the hell is there traffic this late anyway?!”

“Maybe there’s an accident or something?” Mabel offered, reasonably. Since when is my job to be the reasonable one?

“Pfft, fuckin’ accidents,” Dip scoffed, “I mean, how do they even allow half these lunatics on the road? These people are a menace--”

“A menace?” Mabel raised an eyebrow, “Dip, cool it. Any second now you’ll be chasing kids-these-days off your lawn.”

“But I mean, what’s really idiotic is this road,” Dipper’s knuckles were white from clenching the wheel, “These roads were never meant for this volume of traffic, I mean, only two stinking lanes each way?!”

“Dipper, honestly,” Mabel rolled her eyes, “You sound like a granny.”

“But I mean, why?” Dipper pressed, his tone growing more hysterical, “Why is this road only four lanes? Why was there an accident? Why is this happening?!”

“I don’t know, Dipstick,” Mabel said, in the closest thing to a soothing voice she could manage, “It’s oka--”

“Don’t you dare tell me it’s okay right now, Mabel,” Dipper spat, holding up his right hand to her in a stop motion, “Unless your definition of ‘okay’ includes our sister running headfirst into a grisly fucking death, I don’t wanna hear it!”

“Whoa, whoa, don’t yell at me!” Mabel bristled, “I didn’t design the stupid road!”

“Oh, c’mon, Mabel,” Dipper said, exasperated, “Don’t gimme the innocent act.”

“It’s not an act!” Mabel snapped, “This isn’t my fault!”

“I didn’t blame you, Mabe--”

“Oh, shut up,” Mabel rolled her eyes, “You’ve been blaming me since she left!”

“Oh, I have not!”

“Have to!” Mabel insisted petulantly.

“I’m telling you, I have not!”

“Since she left, you have been treating me like I’m the bad guy!”

“Well, she wouldn’t have left if--” Dipper began.

“There it is,” Mabel pointed at him, “Go ahead and say what you mean,” she gestured at the inching traffic, “We got time. She wouldn’t have left if I hadn’t what?” Dipper shifted uneasily in his seat, “Hadn’t kissed you?”

Dipper dragged in a long-suffering sigh through his nostrils, his eyes shut, “Yes, Mabel,” he admitted, softly, “She wouldn’t have left if you hadn’t kissed me.”

Mabel pushed down the icky rejection feelings his words planted in her chest, “Well, I’m sorry I kissed you then.” She said, stiffly, keeping her eyes on the license plate of the car in front of them.

She could feel Dipper’s eyes on her, but forced her gaze to remain forward, “Mabel, it just… Out of nowhere like that? You were yelling at me one second and then kissing me, and, I mean,” he dragged his hand through his hair anxiously, “You are my sister and--”

“You don’t need to spare my feelings,” She said, shaking her head, “It won’t happen again.”

“Wait, Mabes, no!” Dipper turned to her, frantically, looking away from the car-clotted road. His eyes were troubled, his face conflicted, “That’s not what I meant! That’s, uh,” he glanced down, “Not what I want, is that... what you want?”

Mabel couldn’t help but smile a little. She shook her head, “No, you nerd.” He met her eyes again, his mouth curling ever so slightly upwards, “That’s not what I want. Why the heck dya think I kissed you?”

“I dunno, I don’t really get a lot of what you do, sis,” Dipper admitted, drily.

“That’s fair, I guess,” Mabel said, but it wasn’t the answer she’d been looking for.

“I love you, Mabel,” Dipper said tentatively.

“I love you too, Dip,” Mabel grinned and leaned across the center console to plant a soft, decisive kiss on his lips. He pressed his lips against hers in eager agreement. For a brief moment, everything fell away. The worry about Jo, the anger and confusion, the honking of the cars caught in gridlock with them, it all disappeared. But the moment was indeed brief, too brief Mabel thought. She opened her eyes after their lips parted and met Dipper’s. She saw the same love and fear she felt mirrored back at her, and gave a small nod, “Okay, so that’s settled. We love each other and we like kissing.”

Dipper snorted a laugh, “We love each other and we like kissing, okay.” His smile soon wilted, “I’m sorry about the play.”

Mabel frowned, “That was really lame of you guys.”

“I know,” Dipper said, pulling the van up a few inches, “I know it was, and I really am sorry.”

“We got bigger fish to fry,” Mabel changed the subject, we can talk about the play later. Dipper grimaced, never one for confrontation of any sort, “So we love each other and we like kissing, but we should maybe return to the elephant in the car that you so kindly brought up.” Dipper raised an eyebrow. Mabel rolled her eyes, “I’m your sister.”

“Oh, that elephant,” Dipper said grimly.

“How many elephants dya think are in here?” Mabel teased, looking around the van’s interior, the couch and garment racks, and amplifier holding no answers. Dipper snorted, “Anyway,” Mabel continued, “I, uh, love you and stuff and the sibling thing is weird ‘n’ all, but I’m like, okay with it, I guess? But obviously Jo-jo isn’t, and like, we can’t just do something this bonkers if she’s not okay with it. And it’s a little too late to hide it from her, but that probably wouldn’t have worked anywho.”

“I don’t want to hide anything from Jo, ever,” Dipper agreed, his tone grown a bit sullen.

“I mean, I can’t blame her for being freaked by incest, though,” Mabel conceded.

Dipper shook his head, “I don’t know if that’s what she’s upset about.”

Mabel scoffed, “Oh, c’mon, Dip. If I didn’t feel it, I’d be freaked out too. Shoot, it freaks me out a little and I do feel it.”

“Well, that’s just it, Mabes,” Dipper inched a little closer to the bumper of the car ahead of them, “I’m pretty sure Jo does feel it.”

Mabel felt the blood drain from her face, “Say what?”

“Well, uhm, before you got home,” Dipper fidgeted uncomfortably in the driver’s seat, “We were both, um, like really amped about the...interview,” Dipper said the word quietly, trying to soften the blow, but it stung Mabel nonetheless, “And we uhh, almost… well, kissed.”

For a silent moment, Mabel blinked at the sea of red brake lights, trying to process what Dipper had just said. She was the one he really wanted, you’re just his second choice. Tears prickled Mabel’s eyes again and she looked out her window, as if fascinated by the minivan in the finally-moving lane to their right, “You almost kissed her, or she almost kissed you?”

“Well, kinda both,” Dipper said, sounding a little unsure, “I think.”

“You think?” Mabel’s voice was sharper than intended.

“No, no, I’m sure,” Dipper grumbled, “She wanted to kiss me and I wanted to kiss her.”

Jealousy poured molten hot into Mabel’s stomach. While she was driving home, tearful and angry, while she was parking and glaring at the light in Dipper’s window...that’s what had been happening? They’d been excited, they’d been celebrating, they’d been almost kissing, “You wanted to kiss her.” she echoed.

Dipper picked up on Mabel’s jealousy then, “Mabel, no…”

Jo’s words rang in her sister’s head, coulda sworn being excited nearly had the same effect! Guess anything might inspire some sister-smooching! She looked at Dipper sharply, as he pulled up impatiently, the traffic finally loosening up a little at a time. No sooner had the words formed in her head than she was speaking them, “Dipper, is it really me you want, or her?”

Dipper’s heart ached at Mabel’s inevitable and unanswerable question, “It’s not like that, Mabes,” he tried to explain, “It’s both of you, it’s always been both of you.”

Both of us? That had never occurred to her. All this time, she’d wondered and feared how, in the unlikely event that anything like this could come to pass, Dipper would have to choose one sister over the other. All this time, she had been thinking of Jolene as a friend and sometime-adversary, trying not to notice how beautiful she was, how smart, how vibrant. How she blushed and sweated around her, how she could hardly keep her eyes away when she got undressed, how incredibly cute the noises were that she made in her sleep. “Holy shit,” Mabel muttered out loud. She’d known that the way she thought about her sister was unusual, but it had seemed like small potatoes compared to her high-octane crush on her bro. Yet suddenly it was unbelievable that she hadn’t realized the nature of these feelings for Jolene before. It had been different with Dipper, maybe because of that first summer in Gravity Falls, maybe because he was a boy, she had recognized what she felt early on. She’d been so busy seeing Jo as competition, hating her unique closeness with Dipper, hating the ways their differing appearance favored Jo, she hadn’t realized Jo might be seeing her the same way, or seeing Dipper as competition for me. She dropped her head in her hands, “Holyshit, holyshit, holy-guacamoley-bowls-o-shit.”

“...Mabel?” Dipper asked cautiously, unsure if Mabel was angry with him.

“Dipper,” Mabel said, desperately, reaching for his hand. He gave it to her without hesitation and she squeezed hard enough to make him wince.

“Mabes, what’s going on in there?”

“I think I love Jo,” she whispered.

Dipper felt a stab of jealousy, ohh now I get it, “You…”

Mabel picked up on his uncertainty, “No, no, Dip, I love you too. Of course, I love you.” she managed a watery smile at him, “Both of you. I get it. I get it.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, “Ohmygolly, we are such a mess.”

“A psychiatrist’s field day, I know,” Dipper’s heart soared at the sound of Mabel’s laugh at his comment.

“We both love each other, and we both love her,” Mabel stated, a little stunned.

“I have a feeling she doesn’t know the latter,” Dipper said, his brow furrowing.

“Well, we’ll just have to go tell her then.” Mabel said, in a sure tone, wiping the tears from her face, grateful that the traffic was finally letting up. She had something important to tell her sister and it couldn’t wait.

Chapter 21: Lone Pine Mountain

It was a hard rocky climb, and Jo was thankful for the flashlight she always kept in her pack. Even with its help, it was a treacherous hike. Dipper never would have considered this climb at night, she knew, because Dipper’s smart. She shook the thoughts of Dipper away, reminding herself that he was not beside her and he likely never would be again. She just focused on the path, or what passed for one. Jo was weary, but she could tell the summit wasn’t far off now. She had that sense one has just before a peak, of the sky getting bigger and the land shrinking before them.

Much as Jolene tried to focus on the task at hand, tried to push away the cacophony of her thoughts, it was inescapable. Tears kept blurring her vision, making it difficult to tell where the best footholds were. She had slipped and mis-stepped countless times, leaving her ankles sore, her knees and palms stinging with scrapes. But however she pushed her thoughts away and tried to swipe away her inconvenient tears, they kept creeping back. One moment she’d be seeing the beam of her flashlight across the stony terrain, and the next it was as if she was transported back to her childhood home, watching that kiss. The way Dipper’s hand tightened on Mabel’s dainty little waist, the way Mabel’s cheeks flushed prettily as the kiss deepened. They had looked so strangely natural, like two puzzle pieces made to fit together. Jo slipped again, catching herself again on her skinned palms, hearing the pebbles clattering down the steep descent behind her.

She realized she was actually much steadier crawling and so she moved ahead that way. She could feel the wetness of blood on her hands and knees from the jagged bedrock, but didn’t much care. The immediacy of the physical pain gave her something to focus on, drawing her mind just a little bit further from Dipper and Mabel’s kiss. There was something comforting about pain of the body, as compared to the unmanageable pain of the soul.

With a suddenness that surprised her into a smile, Jo realized she was no longer ascending. The steepness had given way to fairly even ground. She stood up, wobbling a little at being back on her feet and turned in a circle a couple times, sweeping the flashlight across her surroundings to get her bearings. She had finally reached the summit, or at least one of the lower landings around the highest point. It was sparse, mostly rocky and open, with some scrubby bushes and a few weathered pine trees, tall, black, and austere in the dim light. It was quiet, apart from the occasional whisper of wind through the pine needles, as if even the trees here were holding their breath.

The moonlight illuminated more evenly and Jolene shut off her flashlight to conserve energy, blinking rapidly to get her eyes to adjust. Dipper would be proud of that kinda foresight, she thought before she could help herself, slipping the flashlight into her back pocket. It was easy enough to push Mabel from her mind in this situation, but exploring like this without Dipper was strange. She’d practically never gone on any sort of Mystery Hunt without him, although he’d gone on plenty without her that first summer in Oregon. As always, a pit of envy and exclusion bubbled in her stomach thinking of that summer. Up here alone with the pine trees, she could almost pretend she was in the Oregon hills, seeking monsters from the entries in Grunkle Ford’s old journals and about to run into Bill Cipher around any corner.

“Stopit,stopit,stopit,” Jolene scolded herself, hating how pathetic her tearful whisper sounded in the still of the night. Stop thinking about Dipper, stop thinking about Gravity Falls, and for fuck’s sake, stop thinking about Bill Cipher! There were many dangers in these hills, but Bill Cipher was not among them. Dwelling on him now would do her no good, just as it never had.

Jo wiped the grit and blood off of her palms onto her shorts. What now? She asked herself, surprised to find herself wishing for one of Dipper’s plans. She took a few more steps and halted. Her breath was coming a little heavy from the steep climb, but she found it wasn’t slowing, rattling unevenly out of her. It was catching up with her, all of it. She’d driven here fast and reckless, her foot demanding the gas pedal put more distance between her and her problems. She’d climbed in a fever, desperately scrambling up, zigzagging along the rockface in hopes she’d shake the pain that was following close behind. But she had stopped running now for the first time in all the hours since she’d fled, and she couldn’t outrun it anymore.

The tears hit her hard, tearing through the center of her like a blast from a shotgun. An agonizing certainty flooded her that everything of value was over. A lifetime of friendship and longing bubbled over in her, all bitter with the burnt taste of loss. Gone, they’re gone, they’re gone. She didn’t realize how violently she was shaking until she felt her raw knees hit the ground. She hugged herself hard, trying to hold herself together, feeling as though her body would be torn asunder by the sheer force of emotion within her. Since running from home, Jo had been trying so hard to escape the breakdown ticking away like a timebomb inside her, but now that it had detonated there was too much, far too much all at once. I’m meaningless, it screamed at her, I have always been superfluous, I have always been the other triplet, I have always been nothing. She could hear herself wailing, the heartwrenched sound eerie in the quiet of the mountaintop. What was the use? Why love so deeply when it opened you up to being infected by pain like this? There was no longer any avoiding the kiss she had seen Mabel and Dipper share. They love each other, she knew with a brutal finality, and they are complete without me.

As the weight of that realization truly sank over Jo, weighing down her shoulders, her sobs quieted. There was no reason left to cry. They were lost to her, and there was no reason to keep fighting. Jo covered her face with her hands, her tears stinging against her cuts. She held her breath for a moment, trying in vain to still the throbbing of her heart.

With a sudden prickling at the back of her neck Jolene knew something was wrong. She didn’t realize why at first. She saw nothing in the darkness behind her hands. But the trees were making a different sound now, not the whispering rustle of pine needles but a softly sinister swish. A hiss broke the silence, and she knew. It was no hiss an animal should make. Not the hiss of a cat, or even of a snake. It was the sound of menace itself given flesh.

Jo realized the swishing was not the trees, not the wind, but the sound of feathers, bristling, spreading, settling. They’re real! She thought, with an intoxicating rush of satisfaction, that she was witnessing what no one had proven. What no one survived to prove, Dipper’s voice reminded her sternly in her head. For an instant, Jo embraced the idea that she was among them, one of those who had climbed this mountain, met these monsters, met their demise. That the knowledge of them would die with her, just like countless others. But the resignation gave way nearly at once to a force far more powerful.

I’m not ready, she knew with sudden clarity, I don’t want to die. I want to get away, I want to go home! She raised her face, as if woken and startled from sleep, her eyes met with dark figures, larger than she had imagined. Her eyes adjusted, identifying fangs, feathers, talons. I’m going home in one piece. She resolved stubbornly, And I’m getting a picture before I go.

She cried out in surprise as something sliced into her shoulder. As she pulled away on reflex, she felt the weight of her pack shift, the strap on her injured shoulder severed by whatever cut her, a talon most likely, she deduced in her head. She looked around, seeking a gap between the shadowy creatures closing in around her, I’m getting home, she rose to her feet, but not if I’m dinner.

Chapter 22: Preternatural

“I cannot believe we’re doing this in the dark,” Dipper muttered for the umpteenth time. He could hear Mabel close in front of him. She was breathing heavy, grunting with every few steps. In their eagerness to get on the road, to follow Jo, Mabel had forgotten to consider the suitability of her footwear. Dipper’s flashlight was lending a little bit of assistance, but there were no two ways around the fact that flimsy ballet flats with no treads on the soles were dangerous shoes to climb a mountain in. “I cannot believe we’re doing this in the da--”

“Will you please shut your pie-hole, Dipdot?” Mabel interrupted irritably, halting and shooting him a sharp look over her shoulder, before her expression softened and she grumbled an apology.

“No, I’m sorry, Mabes,” Dipper said, honestly contrite and honestly pretty terrified, “But I just... really cannot believe we’re doing something this stupid.”

Mabel sighed and squeezed Dipper’s free hand, “I know, all those years of dorktastic lists and here you are being impulsive. But it’s for Jo-jo.”

Dipper nodded, relenting. Mabel started walking again and he followed suit, saying to her back, “I think we’re almost at the summit.”

“That’s good!” Mabel said, her enthusiasm not very convincing through the small groans of pain.

The summit is where we’ll find the Devils, if they are in fact real, Dipper considered, his heart quickening instantly at the prospect of danger so close at hand, and whether they are real is a crazy gamble. But he knew, with a certainty that scared him more than the Lone Pine Mountain Devils, that his sister needed him. He had felt both triumphant and discouraged when he parked the school van beside the Chariot. Until seeing the familiar vehicle, there had been a small shred of hope that maybe he was wrong, that maybe Jolene hadn’t come here, that maybe she was somewhere safer.

“Your silence does not inspire confidence, Dip,” Mabel chided, trying to sound like she wasn’t really frightened.

“It is good, Mabel,” Dipper said, far too late to inspire any confidence whatsoever, “It’s just also…”

“Bad.” Mabel finished, “It’s also bad.”

Dipper nodded, even though her back was to him and she couldn’t see, “On the bright side,” he said, glancing up at the dizzyingly pitch black sky, “The sun will rise before too long.”

“Bright side?? HA!” Mabel blew a raspberry, “I get it, a daylight pun. Nice one.”

“Okay, sure,” Dipper said, but couldn’t resist a chuckle. Mabel’s ability to see good news and laughter in such a bleak situation warmed him more than he could say. Was climbing a mountain in the dark without a map or gear to save their hysterical sister from nightmarish monsters insane? Certifiably. But he had Mabel and her impossible optimism to buoy him above his own terror. And she loves me, he reminded himself, a vast migration of butterflies flying through him. She loves me. And if it’s possible that my amazing, colorful, out-of-my-fucking-league sister can love me back, then hell, anything can happen.

As if on cue, said amazing, colorful sister whooped in excitement. The sound instantly pulled Dipper out of his own head, “Yo, bro-bro!” Mabel exclaimed, “This sure as shitake looks like a summit to me!”

Dipper hurried a few steps to reach her and both dread and relief swelled in his chest. Definitely a summit of some sort, they had reached a relatively flat area dotted with bushes and tall pine trees like silent, black sentinels. It was hard to tell in the dark how far it extended in any given direction, and Dipper wished fervently that the sun would rise already. He wasn’t afraid of the dark at all, but when the darkness potentially held bloodthirsty monsters, it took on a decidedly scarier quality. Dipper placed a hand on Mabel’s shoulder, “Stay close to me, Mabes,” he said, panning the beam of his flashlight across the terrain before them, “We’re safer if we don’t split up.”

“Aye-aye, cap’n,” Mabel joked, her hand finding Dipper’s again and giving it a reassuring squeeze, “The buddy system has never failed us yet.”

He squeezed Mabel’s hand gratefully, “I won’t let anything happen to you, Mabel,” he said gravely.

“Aw, you dorkus,” Mabel nudged an elbow into his side, “Haven’t you had enough sentimental mushy stuff for one night?”

“I dunnoooo,” Dipper couldn’t help shooting her a smile in the darkness, “If sentimental mushy stuff is what we’ve been doing, I think I’m developing a taste for it.”

Mabel laughed, “Okay, casanova, let’s save our sister first and then we can sentimentally mush till the cows come home.”

“Ha, okay, sounds like a plan,” Dipper agreed.

“High praise,” Mabel teased, “From the nerd who loves his plans so much.”

Dipper snorted a laugh, making no move to deny the jab. I could really go for a plan right about now, he admitted to himself, ‘the buddy system’ isn’t quite as sophisticated a plan as I would like. But he knew Mabel was right, the buddy system had never failed them. We’ve never failed each other, he told himself, and tonight was no time to start. If we could survive that first summer in Gravity Falls, he considered, we can handle some birds of prey.

“But, soft, Sir Plans-a-lot,” Mabel said, her grin audible through her mock-proper tone, “What dost thou thinketh we shalt do hence?”

“Sir Plans-a-lot?” Dipper repeated, unable to restrain the tone of admiration in his voice, “That’s a good one, Mabes.”

“Answer the question, Plans-a-lot,” Mabel needled, “What we doin’ hence?”

“...That means ‘next’, right?” Dipper clarified.

“Aye, Dipstick, verily,” Mabel said, a slight edge to her voice, “If you’d had a nice refresher on your Shakespeare earlier, ya might know that.”

“Okay, okay, message received,” Dipper replied, guilt lapping at the edges of his mind. There was no time to dwell on the Twelfth Night mishap at present, but he knew that if they got back home intact, there would be at least a week of apology favors to do. He wondered absently if apology favors would take on a different meaning in light of his and Mabel’s newfound shared feelings, but put the thought out of his mind. We’re going to get home, and I’ll worry about that then. For now...what next? And his own words, ludicrously formal, popped into his mind, ‘4B2, screen for evidence of preternatural presence’. The Lone Pine Mountain Devils were about a zillion times more dangerous and more unpredictable than Tahoe Tessie, but it seemed the inevitable next step, “Next, or hence, I guess, we should screen for evidence of preternatural presence… or Jolene.” he added. Finding Jo before the Devils would be ideal.

Mabel and Dipper lapsed into silence, walking tentatively forward. Everything is spooky as heck, Mabel thought, How are we supposed to know what the ‘preternatural’ bits are? She knew Dipper must be scared, he didn’t even like going to the mall without a plan, but he seemed calm. No doubt his mind was going a hundred miles a minute, but he wasn’t really showing it. I don’t know how he does this adventure junk, Mabel thought, trying to ignore the pain in her feet and ankles. Calling this place ‘spooky as heck’ was an understatement. Mabel had just about exhausted her reserve of humor and found herself focused simply keeping her fear at bay. Jo is here, she told herself firmly, And we’re going to find her and bring her home. No spookiness can come between the Mystery Kids.

All of Mabel’s resolve went out the window when her foot landed on something that gave a sickening, brittle snap. She felt its echo in her own bones, through the thin sole of her shoe, and knew with a nauseous certainty what it was before the illumination of Dipper’s flashlight could reveal it. Her shriek was out of her before she could think, the splintered tibia, the crumbling rows of ribs, the blindly staring skull a brilliant white. On instinct, Mabel had grabbed Dipper and he clutched her securely to his side as he swept the light around, counting softly against her forehead.

“Th-that was a person, Dipper,” Mabel pointed out superfluously.

“Yes,” Dipper agreed distractedly, “One of eight, by my count. And I know who they are.” There was a slightly vindicated tone to his voice, as if he were relieved they were real, that angered Mabel.

“Cut it out!” Mabel wrenched herself from his side, “Don’t sound so happy about it!”

“Mabes, please, I’m not happy I--”

Dipper’s words were interrupted by an infernal hiss that froze Mabel’s blood in her veins. He saw it, but she didn’t, in the instant before he shut off his flashlight. His hand grabbed herself, and they were running. Mabel’s toes were curled in his shoes, trying desperately not to lose them. In their aimlessness, they knocked into the sap-sticky trunk of one of the looming pines, “Climb,” Dipper breathed, practically inaudible, and without question, Mabel obeyed.

Continue to Part 7