Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The air was cooler than usual for a Danville summer. Mabel had shaken Dipper awake in the darkest hours of the morning, much to his dismay. 

“C’mon Dipper!” She nearly shouted, “it’s mariachi-tree time!” 

In his sleepy haze, he was sure he’d misheard his sister, “mariachi what? ” He grumbled, rolling over. 

“Mariachi tree!” Mabel gasped, yanking the comforter off of the bed, and dragging Dipper along with it. He hit the carpeted floor with a quiet grunt, and sat up. He squinted up at his sister, eyes adjusting as she flicked on the bright LED lights. “They’re only available until eight-thirty! Hurry up or we’ll miss it!” 

That was how Dipper wound up sitting in the dewy grass of the Flynn-Fletcher backyard, hugging his knees to his chest trying to keep warm, and watching as Phineas escorted very confused mariachis up a small ladder and into the branches of the single tree on the property. Mable looked on eagerly from beside him, occasionally shouting advice to Phineas as he worked. On his other side was Ferb, with a clipboard in hand, loosely sketching something Dipper couldn’t quite make out yet. Only that it looked highly impossible and weirdly high-tech. Seemed appropriate.

“Hey,” Dipper cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice from cracking, as it was prone to do so early in the day, “not that I’m not having fun but, why exactly are these guys climbing up there?” 

Ferb looked up at him and blinked, an action that Dipper couldn’t discern any meaning from, but somehow Mabel responded as if he had spoken plain English.

“Ooooh” she laughed, “Y’know, I never really do my best thinking after a glass of chocolate milk, either.” 

Dipper looked at her inquisitively, hoping for some translation. Instead Mabel just shrugged her shoulders. 

“What?” She asked, as if he were the crazy one, “I don’t.” 

It didn’t come as a surprise when the whole “mariachi tree” thing fell flat on its face. Sure, each of the performers could keep their balance relatively well, but playing their instruments was a different story. Not long after Phineas had cued them to begin their first song, the entire band came tumbling down onto the grass.  Ferb and Mabel rushed to help them up, while Phineas apologized sheepishly. It wasn’t until the musicians had left the yard that Phineas had noticed the twins’ arrival. 

“Oh hey guys!” 

“Hey man” Dipper greeted him, “this wasn’t what you guys were planning on doing today, was it?” 

Phineas looked up at the foliage of the solitary oak and shrugged, “I mean, it was, but now it looks like we’ll have time for something else.” 

“Dang, two things in one day?” Dipper chuckled, his tone more humorous than mocking, “imagine that.” 

As if on cue, Isabella let herself in, closing the gate gently behind her. She smiled at Phineas, making apparent the crush that only he was blind to. 

“Hey Phineas,” she recited like clockwork, “whatcha – hic!”

Dipper blinked, taken aback by the interruption to what was usually a rock-solid routine. Isabella seemed equally annoyed, but nonetheless tried again. 

“Watcha – hic! ” 

“Wow,” Phineas smiled sympathetically, “that’s a bad case of the hiccups you’ve got there.”

“I know!” She agreed, “They’ve been driving me crazy all morning!” 

“Not to fear, Isabella!” Phineas grinned, “we can help you with your hiccups!” 

At this, Isabella sighed in relief, gratefully accepting Phineas’s idea. After a few minutes of thinking, it was Ferb who suggested that they build a haunted house, and they were off to the races. Mabel suggested that Isabella take the day off from actually building. After all, how could you be surprised by something you helped create. None of the boys could really argue with that, so Isabella excused herself while they got to work. 

“Ok gang!” Phineas clapped his hand together determinedly, “we’ve got the rest of the day to build the creepiest, spookyiest, hiccups-cure-ifying-ist haunted house any of us have ever seen.” 

“Well it looks like I got here right on time.” Came Buford’s gravelly voice as he slammed the gate behind him, “I’ve been studying the ancient art of terrorizin’ people since before I threw my first punch. I’m practically a pro!”

Baljeet, who never seemed to be far behind his bully, piped up, “He really is quite good at it!” 

“Great!” Phineas approached them. The group unconsciously formed a lop-sided circle so they could all see each other, “we had better start with some ideas, why don’t we all go around and say what scares us most?”

Ferb stood at the ready with his clipboard flipped to a blank sheet of graph paper. Dipper’s stomach dropped at the idea of acknowledging his worst fears. His mind leapt immediately to the cold calculating stare of Bill Cypher’s one eye, then to the barren wasteland of Weirdmageddon. He thought of the frozen forms of all the townsfolk, bricks in a massive throne. He physically winced at the memory of his Grunkle Ford, a golden back scratcher placed carelessly on the armrest. A lump rose in his throat, swallowing it felt like choking on molten lead. 

Much to his surprise, Mabel jumped to answer the question. 

“Oh!” She squealed, “I’ve got a great worst fear! So scary it’ll melt your socks right off.”

Dipper had to physically fight to keep himself from clamping a hand over Mabel’s mouth. As accepting as their friends had been up until the point, Dipper wasn’t quite ready to relive the end of the world in front of them. Much to his relief, it seemed Mabel had the same thought. 

“The thing I’m most afraid of in the world is vampires!” his sister said it with enough gusto to sell it to their friends, but Dipper could see the deception clear as day. After all Mabel hated lying, and it’s difficult to be good at something you hate doing. 

Not noticing anything out of the ordinary, Phineas nodded enthusiastically while Ferb scribbled down her answer. 

“Nice one!” Phineas smiled, “Oh! Ferb, do you think Mom kept that old Dracula costume from a few Halloweens ago?” 

Ferb nodded without looking up from his writing. Dipper’s stomach plummeted as Phineas’s eyes turned to him. 

“How about you, Dipper?” He asked, oblivious to the other boy’s racing heart, “What scares you the most?” 

Now, usually, this would be a simple answer. Just lie and think of some creepy-crawly that could be found in the aisles of a Summerween Superstore, but Dipper’s mind was blank. All he could think of was Bill. His palms were growing slick with sweat as he became acutely aware of just how long he’d been standing there silently under Phineas’s expectant gaze. 

“Uh…” he finally gasped out, barely noticing as his voice cracked, “y’know what man, I think I gotta think about it a bit more, uh… inside… is it cool if I use your bathroom?” 

If Phineas sensed anything off, he hid it remarkably well, “not at all dude, it’s the second door on your left once you pass the kitchen.”

“Thanks.” 

As Dipper turned to leave, he caught Mabel’s concerned gaze. He tried to mold his face into a disaffected expression, hoping to convince her that he was fine. She wasn’t buying it, but thankfully she didn’t follow him either. 

When Dipper let himself into the house, he jumped back a bit, startled at the sight of Linda Flynn-Fletcher, humming quietly as she retrieved a platter of pie filling from the fridge. When she turned around to see him, she also tensed up, snapped out of her focus by her sudden guest. 

“Oh, sorry Dipper,” she smiled warmly, “you spooked me there for a second. How are things going out there?” 

“Alright,” Dipper shrugged, his mind still clouded with the sound of Bill’s horrible laughter, “I was just gonna use the bathroom.” 

“Oh sure hon,” she pointed down a short hallway on the other side of the kitchen, “it’s right there.” 

“Thanks.” 

He closed the door behind him with much more force than he’d intended, shuddering as the frame rattled a bit. Dipper sat on the closed lid of the toilet and pulled his knees up to his chest, staring blankly into the vanity mirror which hung above the sink on the wall across from him. He watched his eyes in the reflection. As sure as he was that his pupils were their normal, circular shape, they seemed to warp slowly into long black slits. With a gasp, Dipper launched himself towards the mirror to get a closer look. As soon as he did, he let out a humorless laugh in relief. They were his eyes. Of course they were. Dipper needed to get a grip. He grabbed the cold  knob and yanked it forward with almost entirely too much force. As icy water rushed over his hands and fingers, he felt his shoulders relax a bit. 

“Bill’s dead.” He reminded his reflection aloud, “you’ve seen the statue that proves it. He’s gone and he’s never coming back.” 

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, muttering to his reflection and feeling the almost-too-cold water on his palms, but it must have been a while. The next thing he remembered was a knock at the door, and the gentle voice of Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher. 

“Dipper, honey?” She called through the door, “are you alright in there?” 

“Yes ma’am!” He called back, face red as a beet, “Sorry! I’ll be right out!” 

He hurriedly dried his hands and raced back into the kitchen, white-hot embarrassment still all over his face. He was about to make a beeline for the back door, when he was stopped by Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher, silently offering him a glass of Lemonade. 

“You look like you could use something to drink,” she explained, in an even friendly tone. It was obvious to Dipper that she knew something was wrong, but she wasn’t going to pry. 

He looked through the glass french doors and gasped, amazingly, his friends had already managed to create an impressive wooden skeleton of a haunted house. He watched as Mabel and Buford worked together to nail the first piece of vinyl siding to the structure, while Baljeet and Ferb were crouched over the mechanical parts of an animatronic zombie, soldering the circuits in place. 

As impressive as it was, Dipper didn’t have it in him to go help his friends. If anything it looked complicated, or at least too complicated for him in his foggy state of mind. So instead, he accepted the Lemonade from Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher, and took a sip. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled, before turning eyes towards the three stools lined neatly below the lip of the kitchen counter, “actually, do you mind if I finish this in here?” 

“Of course not,” She explained, turning to retrieve something from the oven– an empty pie shell– “as long as you don’t mind keeping me company while I’m baking.” 

Dipper sat silently at the kitchen counter for a while, sipping his lemonade and watching as Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher scooped syrup-coated blueberries into the parbaked pie shell, and weaved an intricate lattice to sit atop the filling. Once in a while, Dipper would peer out of the window behind his host to check on the progress his friends were making. It felt like watching a plant grow in fast-motion. Every time he looked, a week's worth of work was completed in mere minutes. 

With her pie securely in the oven, and the timer set for twenty minutes, Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher sat down on the far stool from Dipper, leaving space between them. She poured herself a glass of lemonade, before finally breaking the silence. 

“Well Dipper,” she said with a polite, if not a bit confused smile, “I’m happy to have you here, but I gotta ask, wouldn’t you rather be out there with the boys and your sister?” 

He paused, considering his answer carefully, “yeah,” he finally said, lamely, “I guess I got a little wigged out.” 

“Wigged out?” Linda prompted, taking a sip from her lemonade. 

“Well, we got to talking about what scares us,” Dipper explained, “and everyone else said something normal, like vampires but mine was…” 

He paused, lingering on his last few words, “...weird.” he finally concluded after a much-too-long silence. 

“Oh?” 

Dipper looked up as Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher, growing uneasy. He was acutely aware that anything he said to her would make it back to his Dad, and the last thing he needed right now was his Dad worrying about him. He needed to get out of there. He slammed back the last of his lemonade, and stood up hastily. 

“Yeah,” he said, abruptly making his way towards the door, “but I’m over it now, so I might as well head back out there. Thanks for the Lemonade!” 

With that, Dipper rushed through the back door. Upon emerging from the house, he was struck by a sudden lack of haunted house in the backyard. Before he had time to process it, Mabel raced up to greet him.

“Dipper! Where were you? You totally missed out!” She beamed at him, “There were these great special effects, and this cool musical number, and Isabella was totally spooked! ” 

Despite having been totally spooked, Dipper was pretty sure he could still hear Isabella hiccuping from across the yard. Though, that wasn’t the main thing on his mind.

“You guys built, operated, and demolished a haunted house in the time I was gone?” He asked, exasperated. 

“Uh, duh!” Mabel laughed, “What’d you expect us to do, wait around for two hours?” 

At this, Dipper tensed. Two hours? No way he had been gone for that long. He fought to keep the confusion off his face, replacing it with admiration, “still that’s pretty impressive to do in two hours.” 

“We had a little help with demolition,” Phineas confessed as he approached the two twins. He didn’t elaborate; by now Dipper knew that the things built in that backyard had a strange habit of vanishing or relocating once the brothers were done with them. It was convenient, sure, but it was also a pattern which Dipper had begun to study, with so far no conclusive evidence for what exactly caused it. 

“Are you feeling ok, Dipper?” Mabel asked, suddenly snapping him out of his train of thought, “you look a little pale.” 

“Pale?” Dipper choked out the word, trying to disguise it as a laugh, “that’s so weird because I feel fine! Better than fine actually I feel great.” 

Phineas and Mabel exchanged a glance which Dipper couldn’t quite understand. They dropped the topic. 

“Ok, well, It’s still pretty early in the day,” Phineas smiled, “Ferb and I were thinking we’d bike down to Mr. Slushie Dog, or maybe stop by the pool, you’re welcome to come along.” 

“Thanks,” Mabel cut in before her brother could speak, “but I’m wiped, plus I need to get working on my Halloween sweater! That haunted house has me feeling inspired.” 

The twins said their goodbyes and left the backyard. The air hadn’t quite broken out of its breezy upper sixties, which felt downright cold in comparison to the usual mid-eighties days. As they walked back, Mabel pulled her turtle neck up to cover the bottoms of her ears. Dipper just had to settle for pulling his vest as close to his chest as possible. Once they were out of earshot, Mabel’s bubbly persona came down a notch. It’s not that she put on an act to be around their friends, but she definitely relaxed a bit when it was just the two of them alone. 

“What happened with you today, Bro-bro?” she asked in earnest, “you disappeared before the day even really got started.” 

“I know.” He sighed, “I’m sorry.” 

They kept walking, Mabel didn’t say anything, just looked at him expectantly. 

“I guess… when Phineas asked me what I was most afraid of, all I could think of was Bill.” 

At the sound of his name, Mabel froze in her tracks. It was the first time since moving to Danville that either of them had spoken it outloud. Even back in California, it was a name spoken only ever out of necessity. Mostly, the twins talked around his name, or called him something ridiculous to ease the pain of the memory. 

“Yeah,” Mabel agreed, “I dunno where vampires came from, Vampires are cool!” 

“I should’ve just come up with a lie, and moved on, but I couldn’t get it out of my head, y’know?”

“Yeah.” 

The two walked in silence until they reached the front door, at which point Mabel stopped Dipper, a look of fear in her eyes.

“Hey Dipper?” 

“Yeah Mabel?” 

“You really think he’s gone, like forever?” 

“Probably” 

Chapter Text

A week came and went in Danville, and Dipper had managed to almost entirely forget about the incident at the haunted house. Almost. It had become a habit for him and Mabel to stop by Phineas and Ferb's house to check out their plans for the day. Although, at first glance, Dipper thought that the boys had decided to take a day off. All he saw were four lawn chairs set up in the shade of the tree, and a small metallic box which, at a distance, looked like a cooler. After a moment, Ferb emerged from the inside of the house. 

“Hi Ferb!” Mabel yelled, waving towards him excitedly, “can we come in?” 

He nodded, and the twins entered the backyard, where Phineas came to greet them, “Hey guys! You’re just in time.” He explained with a smile. 

“In time for what?” Dipper asked with a laugh, “a super suntan ray?”

“No, not today, but that’s a good idea.” Phineas spoke amicably as he began to fiddle with the inner mechanisms on the metal box which, up close, no longer looked like a cooler, “remind me to write that down Ferb.” 

“So, what is it?” Mable asked, practically bouncing with excitement. 

“It’s a Mind Machine!” Phineas announced proudly, “A machine which allows us to visit one another's subconscious as a way of getting to know each other better, and helping to get over our fears.” 

Dipper looked down at the small box on the ground, and the many wires protruding from it, then he looked at Phineas, awed, “you figured out how to enter the mindscape via technology?” 

At this, Phineas blinked, “Mindscape?” 

Mabel elbowed Dipper sharply in the ribs, coughing loudly, “Subconscious, Mindscape, Tomato, Tuhmato,” she laughed nervously. 

“Oh neat,” Phineas smiled, unfazed, “that must be a west coast expression, I’ve never heard it before.” 

“Yeah,” Mabel gave a tense smile, “heh, expressions.” 

“Sup dinguses,” a new voice rang through the yard, “is it ready yet?” 

“Oh hey Buford, almost, we just need Ferb to calibrate the occipital sensors, and then we’re all set.” 

At this, Dipper perked up. Sure, he didn’t really understand the Mindscape when it came to how Ford or Bill described it, but sensors? Occipital Lobes? Those were real, tangible things that Dipper could study. So, he leapt at his chance. 

“Occipital Sensors?” He asked Ferb eagerly, “what do they do?”

He hadn’t really been expecting a response, aside from maybe a nod or a pantomime, but much to his surprise, Ferb answered. 

“They translate electrical impulses into representations of abstract concepts, so we can explore it as a landscape rather than be overwhelmed by uninterpreted perceptual data.” 

“Whoa!” Dipper gasped, “Dude that’s so cool! You gotta show me how they work sometime.” 

Though, true to form, Ferb said nothing in response to this, just gave a small thumbs up and went back to work. It was around this time that Isabella arrived as well, with Baljeet in tow. After Dipper had spent a few minutes watching Ferb work, Phineas approached him, and broke the silence. 

“Pretty cool, huh?” 

“Pretty cool?!” Dipper echoed, “Dude, you’re entering the human subconscious via computerized sensors, that's, like, crazy bonkers awesome!” 

“I’m glad you think so,” Phineas said, smiling brightly, “Hey can I ask you a favor?” 

“Shoot.” 

“Well, since most of us are from Danville, I figure our subconscious will probably have pretty similar baselines, y’know?” Phineas looked around at his friends while he spoke, “plus, we’ve all known each other for years now, I think we’d have to delve into some pretty personal stuff to see anything new or exciting and I dunno if any of us are willing to go that far.” 

Dipper cut him off, “You’re asking if we can travel to my subconscious?” 

“Or Mabels.” Phineas nodded, “No obligation of course, but If you’re up for it, I think it’ll make for a better adventure.” 

This gave Dipper pause. He’d never seen his own mindscape before, but if Grunkle Stan’s was anything to go off of, they could get revealing fast. Then again, he would be lying if he said that on some level he wasn’t curious. What did it look like there? What was he like there? Dipper eyed Phineas cautiously. 

“Will I be able to go with you there?” 

“Of course, you can guide the adventure however you want.” 

“And if there’s something in there I don’t want seen?” 

“We’ll avoid it,” Phineas offered his hand for Dipper to shake, “Deal?” 

The gesture made Dipper tense. His eyes flitted towards Phineas’s. Circles. They were circles. Dipper dragged a deep breath in and out before he spoke again. 

“Yeah, I don’t really do handshake deals,” he laughed nervously. At this, Phineas put his hand down, slight confusion broke through his usually impenetrable nonchalant demeanor, but Dipper didn’t think much of it. 

“How about we call it a promise instead?” Phineas offered. 

“Works for me.” 

Within the half hour, Ferb had finished the last few details, and Dipper found himself with small sticky nodes plastered all over his forehead and the back of his neck. Baljeet, with his two-weeks-of-psychology-camp expertise, had volunteered to stay behind as mission control, while the rest of them were sprawled out on lawn chairs, looking as though they were about to become a part of the matrix. 

“Are you ready, Dipper?” Baljeet asked, fiddling with the dials on the control panel atop the box. Dipper nodded affirmatively. 

“Everybody else ready?” This gained a chorus of agreement from the group. 

With that, Baljeet nodded, “Transporting to Dipper’s subconscious in three…two…one…” 

At first, Dipper thought he was just falling asleep. His eyelids grew heavy and he blinked slowly. After a moment thought, he realized he was no longer on the lawn chair where he’d started but was instead standing, where else, but the Gravity Falls woods, surrounded on all sides by pine trees. 

As each of his friends materialized around him, Dipper watched carefully for their reaction. Thankfully, it didn’t garner anything more than the expected oohs and ahs. Good. Dipper nodded with relief. This was good. 

“Wow twerp,” Buford looked around with a slight sneer on his face. It wasn’t ill intentioned, he just looked like that, “literal interpretation of a last name, much?” 

“If I had to guess,” Isabella piped up, “it probably has some deeper meaning having to do with Dipper’s psyche.” 

Mabel caught his eye, noticing his nervous expression she spoke up, “Oh c’mon guys, you’re overthinking this. We’re obviously in Gravity Falls, which coincidentally has a buttload of pine trees.” 

This garnered a chorus of approval from their small group. Dipper shot a grateful look at his sister, she nodded her reply. Then, something on the horizon caught her eye. He followed her gaze, and gasped at the sight of it: The Mystery Shack, looking exactly as it had on the first day of last summer. He watched as Mabel challenged Isabella and Buford to a race, (last one to the shack was beached gobblewonker!) Ferb chased behind them, not competing, but apparently eager to stay with the majority of the group, leaving Phineas and Dipper alone amongst the towering pines. 

As they walked Phineas was muttering to himself, tracing out the numbers to complex calculations in the air. 

“Hey man,” Dipper interrupted, the constant low mumble of the other boy’s voice making him nervous, “is something wrong?”

“Wrong?” He replied, “no, not wrong exactly, I’m just a bit confused.” 

Hearing this made Dipper’s heart rate spike, he gave a nervous laugh, “what’s confusing about a forest?” 

“Well, nothing on its own.” Phineas admitted, “but I gotta say, your subconscious doesn’t look anything like the projections Ferb and I calculated.” 

Dipper looked around. In his limited experience with mindscapes, this all looked pretty par for the course, “how so?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even, level. Everything was fine, after all. 

“Well, first of all,” Phineas motioned at the forest all around him, “the landscape is so normal-looking. When we tested this on Candace, there were bright abstract thoughts flying all over the place!” 

"Huh.” 

“Not to mention the ambiance,” Phineas shook his head, “I mean, no offense Dipper, but it’s pretty gloomy in here.” 

At this, he couldn’t help but get a bit defensive. Dipper quickened his pace, leaving Phineas having to trot a bit to catch up, “I dunno what to tell you man, It’s been a rough year for me and Mabel.” 

As he spoke, the world around them seemed to somehow grow even gloomier. The sky grayed and a cold wind whipped through the trees, sending pine needles rustling. Dipper stopped in his tracks, noticing the change in the environment. 

“Did you see that?” He asked, staring up at the foliage, “I got annoyed, and the wind started to pick up.” 

“Cool!” Phineas blurted out, “Well, not cool that you were annoyed, sorry about that, but do you think this place reacts to your emotions?” 

At this, Dipper smiled, looking around in fascination, a feeling that compounded itself as the action seemed to clear the sky to a partly cloudy blue, “If anywhere would, It’d be here, right?” 

  Phineas didn’t get the chance to respond, as Mabel, yelling, interrupted their conversation from the distant porch of the Mystery Shack, “Hurry up, Dipper!” She yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth, “Your version of the Shack is bananas!” 

“Guess we’d better get a move on!” Phineas smiled, skip-hopping into a run, “Let’s go!” 

As they jogged through the forest, Dipper couldn’t help but grin. Mindscape or not the was the first time he’d seen Gravity Falls since last summer. Unsurprisingly, it looked exactly how he remembered it. For a second, he thought he saw a hide-behind as it dashed behind a tree. The now-gentle breeze seemed to carry the roar of the manators as they stampeded somewhere unseen; somewhere beyond Dipper’s subconsciousness entirely. 

When they did finally reach the Mystery Shack, he stopped abruptly. From afar it had looked like a perfect recreation of his summer home. Upon further inspection, Mabel was right, it was a bit bananas. The building held the silhouette of the Shack, that was for sure, but the front door was another story. It looked like, no, was the door from the Pine’s family’s old home in Piedmont. He held his breath and reached for the handle. Sure enough, rather than the gift shop he’d expected, there was the foyer of their old house. Mabel had made herself comfortable on the old couch, which was fine enough, but Dipper’s heart leapt to his throat at the sound of somebody rummaging through the kitchen. He skid through the hallway only to find Buford, stood on his tiptoes, trying to knock down a can of brown meat on the highest shelf of the cabinet.

Not knowing Buford super well, and definitely not wanting to get on his bad side, Dipper cleared his throat timidly, “Uh hey man, could you leave that alone? That’s my apocalypse brown meat.” 

“Your what?” Buford questioned, and on some level Dipper agreed, what use did he have for doomsday rations in his subconscious? Nonetheless, he really didn’t want anyone messing with his mind. Not without his permission anyways. For a second, it seemed as if Buford might have agreed, if only out of confusion, but he turned away and began to climb the kitchen counters, determined.

“I’m starvin’ in here.” He grunted with the effort it took to pull himself up, “so either summon somethin’ else to eat, or I’ll have your gross canned meat. 

“Buford!” Isabella stood, arms crossed in the kitchen entryway, “we are guests in Dipper’s mind! Have some manners.” 

Surprisingly enough, it seemed to work. Buford slouched in his stance, pouting a bit as he hopped off of the counter top. 

“That’s better,” Isabella huffed, “now, what do you have to say for yourself?” 

Buford gave Dipper a hearty pat on the back, “My bad, Pine Tree, it won’t happen again.” 

Dipper froze. Pine Tree. The sound of Buford’s voice echoed all around them, each reverberation growing shriller, and it sounded remarkably like– 

“Bill!” Dipper shouted, making a beeline for the foyer, “Mabel, he’s here we gotta get out of here!” 

The walls were growing gray now, and thunder struck outside. Dipper crash landed into the cushions beside his sister. 

“Dipper?!” She leapt up, grabbing her brother by the shoulders, “Dipper what happened?!” 

“We gotta go Mabel!” Dipper wheezed, vaguely aware of Phineas and Ferb watching on in confusion, “Bill’s here! He’s here in my mind.” 

Her face went white as a sheet. She began looking around wildly, “Where?” 

“The kitchen.”

Before she could charge into battle, Isabella and Buford emerged into the foyer. Dipper scrambled for cover, trying to put as much space between him and Buford as he possibly could. 

“Whoa whoah whoa!” Phineas put his arms up, trying to stop the commotion, “everybody freeze!” 

Dipper’s eyes fixed on Buford. Much to his surprise the bully did what he was told. The six of them looked at eachother, as if they were in an old western movie, about to have a shootout. Phineas took a tentative step forward, “Dipper, what’s going on? Who’s Bill?” 

There was no good answer to those questions. He pressed his back firmly into the far wall, lungs still working overtime. As much as he tried, he couldn’t move his eyes away from Buford. 

“Look man,” Buford put his hands up defensively, “all I did was steal the guy’s food, I didn’t mean to freak him out like this.” 

“Well, something must have happened to make him react like this!” Isabella reasoned, “Maybe we should go back to the kitchen, and figure it out.” 

Buford took a step towards Dipper, “aw, c’mon Pine Tree, you know I didn’t mean nothin’ by it.” 

There it was again, that name. The room filled with the shrieking, empty laugh which had so often accompanied the arrival of a certain demon. Dipper hid his face in his hands, awaiting the inevitable. Mable, on the other hand, wasn’t buying it for a second. 

“Woah woah woah woah!” She waved her hands, “Buford, what did you just call him.” 

“Uh, Pine Tree?” He answered sheepishly, “Y’know, cause you’re the pines, and he’s always wearing that hat. Like I used to call Phineas Dinner Bell.” 

Hearing this, Dipper looked up, and saw his sister approach Buford through parted fingers. 

“Like a nickname?” She asked, “You’re just giving him a nickname?” 

“Uh… yeah?” 

“What about me? What do you call me?” 

“Well, your name’s Mabel, ain’t it?” Buford looked thoroughly confused by this line of questioning, “why, d’you want a nickname?” 

“It’s just a coincidence bro-bro, he’s not here, just a nickname.” 

Dipper stood up, looking around at his friends sheepishly, “What?!” He took a weary step towards his sister, “no, but, I heard him. I heard his voice. Didn’t you?”

“Dipper,” she said gently, “we’re in your mind, surrounded by your memories, of course we’re gonna hear him here.” 

He looked at his sister, then towards Phineas and Ferb. Finally his eye landed on Buford, and he felt his cheeks grow hot with shame. He opened his mouth to say something– to apologize– but Phineas cut him off. 

“Well, I think that’s enough of this for now.” He pressed a button on his watch, speaking into it, “bring us out, Baljeet.” 

Not a moment later, Dipper was back in the real world. Curled up on a yellow lawn chair in the direct light of the summer sun. He stood up and stretched, groggy for a moment or two, until the memory of what just happened hit him like a ton of bricks. He looked around at his friends, who were all just beginning to stir, and then at Baljeet who was watching him expectantly. 

“So,” he asked awkwardly, “how was your mind?” 

“About as good as I could have hoped.” Dipper answered evasively. 

When Buford finally sat up, he looked right at Dipper, “Man what the heck was that?” 

“Yeah,” Isabella agreed, fixing her bow, “who’s Bill?” 

“Are you alright?” Ferb was quieter than the others, but Dipper appreciated it the most. He turned to Mabel for backup, but she still looked pretty out of it. 

“Never mind all that.” he recited, as he was technically required by Gravity Falls law to do, “I never should have agreed to let you use my head. I should have known something like this would happen.” 

“Something like what?” Phineas prompted? “What did you see in there?” 

Overwhelmed, Dipper turned to leave, “Hey, can we just drop it, please?” he asked. 

He didn’t hear the response. He was gone before they could muster one. 

Chapter Text

Dipper was curled up on the couch, half asleep. The TV was blaring, the Used to be about History Channel was running a twelve-hour cryptid hunt spectacular. He wasn’t really processing any of it at that point, more so just enjoying the distant voices of talking heads, and the occasional beeping of their monster hunting machines. His daze was broken with a loud knock at the door. Grumbling quietly to himself, Dipper went to answer it, stretching out and yawning before turning the knob. He blinked. 

“Phineas? Dude, it’s like, one in the morning.”  

“I know, I know,” the other boy sighed, “I just– can we talk?” 

“Uh… I guess, do you wanna come in?” 

That was how, at one in the morning, Dipper and Phineas ended up on the floor of Dipper’s bedroom, a bowl of tortilla chips between them. Dipper eyed Phineas carefully. 

“Look, if this is about earlier, I’m sorry” he reached for a chip, trying to avoid eye contact, “I should have–”

“No it’s nothing to do with that!” Phineas protested, only to pause and consider, “ok, maybe a little bit, but you don’t have to apologize.” 

They both shifted their postures, Dipper clicked his tongue to break the silence. 

“Who’s Bill?” Phineas finally asked. 

Dipper felt like the floor fell out from under him. He flinched away from Phineas, then looked back. How was he supposed to explain Bill Cipher? More importantly, how was he supposed to do it without sounding crazy? 

Phineas, sensing his hesitation, jumped in again, “I just ask because, well, he seems to really freak you out and I was thinking maybe we could do something about him?” 

Dipper looked at Phineas, puzzled, but he just kept talking, “I mean, Buford knows most of the bullies in Danville, I’m sure he could–” 

“Buford? Hah!” Dipper noticed the nervous look on Phineas’s face and tried to correct, “I mean, that’s nice man, but Buford can’t do anything about Bill. There’s really nothing to be done.” 

“Hey c’mon,” Phineas chided, “if Ferb and I can build a rollercoaster in a day, we gotta be able to take this guy.” 

“It’s not like that.” Dipper sighed, the more he tried to talk around it, the worse he made it sound, maybe he ought to just tell Phineas… or at least tell him enough to have him stop worrying. 

“You read scientific journals, right Phineas?”

“Of course.” 

“Did you ever come across the name Stanford Pines?” 

Dipper watched as something clicked in his friend's mind.  

“Pines as in, Mason and Mabel Pines?” 

“Yeah,” Dipper laughed, it was strange. Among a normal crowd of people, Ford was just some old man with six fingers, but among nerds–”

“He’s a genius Dipper!” Phineas gasped, “of course I’ve read his work, I mean sure it’s a little outdated nowadays, but it’s so fascinating. Heck, the occipital sensors we used in the Mind Machine were based on an early prototype of his!” 

Dipper couldn’t help but smile at Phineas’s reaction. It reminded him of himself, way back when the author of the journals was still just a mystery. 

“You’re actually related to Stanford Pines?” 

“Yeah, he’s our great uncle.” 

“Dude, that's awesome!” Phineas paused, “but that does that have to do with Bill?” 

“Bill was…” Dipper considered his words carefully, but he never got the chance to explain, a loud knock rang out at his bedroom door.

“Dipper?” Mabel called, her voice still groggy, “who are you talking to? It’s the middle of the night.” 

“Oh, hi Mabel!” Phineas called through the door, blind to Dipper’s weary expression.

“Phineas? What are you doing here? Are you guys having a sleepover? Can I come in?” 

Dipper hoisted himself up off of the floor to open the door, answering her questions as he walked, “He wanted to talk to me, no we’re not, and fine you can come in.” 

Mabel stampeded through the door, knocking Dipper out of the way as she went. Promptly made herself comfortable next to Phineas, and waved her brother back over to where he had been sitting. 

“Yay!” She smiled, “So, what are we talking about?” 

“I was hoping Dipper would tell me more about this Bill guy that he mentioned earlier. He hasn’t been very talkative. 

“I’m still here dude,” Dipper rejoined him on the floor, “I can still hear you.” 

“Bill… Cipher?” Mabel asked, grabbing a handful of chips and devouring them. 

“Sure, if that’s his name.” Phineas shrugged, “I figure, if he’s such a big problem, why don’t we take care of him?” 

“It’s hard to explain.” Mabel sat with her hands folded in her lap for a moment, before looking up determined, “but I think we can show you. Do you still have the Mind Machine?” 

Phineas’s brow creased, “weirdly enough, yeah. I guess it was too small a target for any green beams of light.” 

“Mabel, I am not letting anyone in my head again,” Dipper crossed his arms. 

“That’s ok Dip-dop,” she tapped a finger to her temple, “We’ll use mine.” 

There they were again, in the Flynn-Fletcher backyard, this time under the cover of night. Phineas dragged the machine out from the garage where he’d left it, and switched it on with ease. Dipper looked on, biting his lip anxiously. 

“Are you sure about this Mabel?” He whispered so only she could hear, “I mean, what if–” 

“Look Dipper,” Mabel put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “This was gonna come up sooner or later. We’ll go in, show him my memories, and get out.” 

“Yeah but, I dunno, what if he tells his friends?” 

“What if?” Mabel agreed, “Dipper, these guys are friends with a sentient old-timey bathing suit, if anyone has any chance of understanding, it’s them.” 

“But–”

“The only acceptable butt is yours in that chair,” Mabel chided, then paused, lowering her voice, “maybe it’ll be nice to finally have it out there.” 

“Ok” 

Mabel’s mind was exactly how Dipper expected it. Blindingly bright, cartoonish, and friendly, it was Mabel Land all over again. Phineas squinted, holding a hand up to block out some of the light. 

“Oh yeah,” Phineas nodded once his eyes finally adjusted, “this looks more like our projections.” 

“Mabel, seriously?” Dipper scoffed, his tone was light, he was just poking fun at his sister, “after everything that happened, it still looks like this?” 

“Uh duh!” She shoved him lightly, “what? Am I supposed to get all gloomy now that we’re teenagers?” 

Before Dipper could respond, Mabel snapped her fingers, summoning three cotton candy clouds which whisked them away like hoverboards. They rose quickly into the air. As the three of them got higher, Mabel Land became a speck of glittery neon in an otherwise desolate and barren landscape.

“Besides, It’s not like nothing’s changed.” 

Dipper’s heart sank. They were up so high now that he could see the curve of the horizon. If there had been an atmosphere in the mindscape, they would have left it and been in mind-outer-space. All they could see, for miles and miles, was a decaying pine forest. Grey in every direction. Directly below them, a black scorch mark had burned itself into the foliage. It was as if a wildfire had ripped through the area. A wildfire in the shape of a triangle. Phineas looked to one twin, then the other. He tried to break the silence with a quiet laugh. 

“Guys look!” He pointed to the great black triangle which scarred the landscape, “it’s a picture of me down there!” 

Dipper gave a small uneasy smile. It was pretty uncanny just how geometric Phineas’s face and head were, “nice one man.” he said, trying to ease the tension. Mabel on the other hand scoffed. 

“You’re too nice of a triangle for that to be you.” She explained, earning a thoroughly confused look from Phineas.

“Can we please just stay focused, Mabel?” Dipper pleaded. 

“Oh, right.” 

With another snap of her fingers, the cotton candy clouds began to fall slowly back down to the word below. Though as they floated like feathers in their descent, they also drifted further from the glitter haven of Mabel Land, and deeper into the endless woodland. When they finally touched down, the clouds dissipated into the atmosphere, and the three were left alone with the trees. 

That was until a second Mabel, a younger, weary-looking Mabel, shoved Phineas out of the way as she rushed by. 

“Grunkle Stan, you did it!” the young Mabel cheered. Dipper tensed, turning to look where she had gone. Sure enough, there was Grunkle Stan, dressed as Ford, looking up at his grandniece with vacant eyes. Dipper’s stomach dropped as he recognized the memory. 

“Is that, Stanford Pines?!” Phineas gasped at the sight of Stan. 

Just as he asked the question, a younger Dipper blew past, with Ford in tow. 

“No,” Mabel explained, eyes transfixed on the scene before them, “That’s Ford, and the one on the ground is Stan.” 

“They’re twins.” Dipper added under his breath. 

The three of them watched silently for a moment, as Ford spoke to his brother; “you’re a hero, Stanley.”

At that, Mabel shook her head suddenly. She snapped her fingers and the scene disappeared. Dipper shot a glance at her. She caught his eye and waved him off. Phineas stood, mouth slightly agape at the empty clearing where the memory had played out. 

“What was that?” he asked, taking a tentative step forward.  

“A memory,” Mabel answered simply, “And this,” she led the boys into the clearing, pushing aside shrubs to reveal a stone statue, arm outstretched and eye wide open, “is Bill Cipher.” 

Dipper looked at Phineas, and could tell he was fighting to keep a straight face. Dipper appreciated the effort. He knew this was crazy. He knew that nobody in their right mind or otherwise could believe this without seeing it. Heck, some of the townsfolk who bore witness to Weirdmageddon had since cocooned themselves in denial. Nevermind all that. 

Mabel, oblivious to Phineas’s incredulity, led them past the statue and onto a narrow hiking trail, the kind that wasn’t paved, and only ever maintained by the repeated footsteps of generations of travelers. 

“If I had to guess, the Bill memories are this way,” she sighed, and looked back at her brother, “you ready Dipper?” 

“Not remotely,” he replied instantly, “you ready, Phineas?” 

“I don’t see why not.” He shrugged

“Oh you’re about to.” Dipper muttered to himself. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing.” 

As soon as Mabel stepped onto the path, the cackling started. That shrill, screeching laughter, burning and echoing off of walls that were nowhere to be seen. 

“Well well well well well!” Boomed the voice of Bill Cipher, “what have we here? Shooting Star, Pine Tree, nice to see you both.” 

“Shut up Memory-Bill!” Mabel groaned, “Just show us Weirdmaggedon.” 

“Oh I see how it is, you think just cause this is your mind you get to boss me around?” Bill was growing larger now, “You think that just because you won, I can’t still hurt you?” 

“That’s exactly what I think, you depth-perception-lacking freak!” Mabel retorted. 

The voice grew quieter now, he was behind them, “You’ve always been naive Shooting Star, but this? This is just plain stupid.”

The three of them whipped around, and there he was, just as he had been last summer. Somehow, even without the facial features, Dipper could tell he was smiling. 

“Oh look! You brought me new flesh!” Bill floated his way to Phineas, who stepped back in disgust, “Hey Pine Tree, what’s the big idea? This new kid looks just like me!” 

Phineas was staring wide eyed at Bill, mouth agape, “Are you an alien?” He asked quietly, “Cause I’ve met a few aliens and–”

“HA!” Bill's laugh echoed all around them, “Am I an alien he asks! Kid, I am an interdimensional being more powerful than you can even comprehend.” 

“Prove it,” Phineas challenged, crossing his arms definitely.

“Oh alright, sure kid, I’ll prove it, but only because I suspect we’re cousins or something” Bill leaned back, images of the Flynn-Fletcher flashing across his eye, “You gotta brother, eh kid? Wanna know which one of you is gonna die first?”  

Before he could respond, Dipper stepped between Phineas and Bill, “Ok, Mabel, we’ve seen enough, you can turn it off now!” 

After a moment of grimacing, Mabel gasped, “I’m trying but, he’s not going away.” 

Dipper looked around to look at his sister, face white as a sheet, “what do you mean he’s not going away?! It’s your memory of him!” 

“Leave us alone, memory Bill!” Mabel demanded, “You’re dead, we already killed you!” 

Bill floated up to Mabel, within an inch of her face, the impossible mouthless smirk still present. 

“That’s where you’re wrong, Shooting Star,” Bill rolled his eye sardonically, “I’m a mind demon, stupid, you’re the one summoning me in your mind.”

Mabel yelled in frustration, raising her arms in front of her, a beam of rainbow magic bored a hole right through Bill, “I said leave!!!” She cried, “Get outta my head.” 

Phineas looked up and gasped as Bill exploded into golden sparks which dissipated before they could hit the ground. Dipper rushed to his sister's side, and she grabbed his shoulder, leaning on him as she caught her breath. 

“That was Bill?” Phineas asked, breathlessly. 

“Yeah,” Mabel confirmed quietly as she stood up straight. 

“--or at least that was Mabel’s subconscious interpretation of him,” Dipper added quickly, “The real Bill is gone.” 

“I dunno, Dipper,” Mabel began to fidget with the cuffs of her sweater, “he seemed a little too real.” 

“We can summon anything in the mind,” Dipper explained gently, “I’ll bet that was just your subconscious trying to create something accurate,” 

“Yeah,” Mabel trailed off apprehensively, “but–” 

“What was this about being an interdimensional demon?” Phineas interjected, unable to contain himself. 

“It’s pretty much what it sounds like,” Mabel sighed, “He tried to come through a hole in our reality and take it over. He wanted to make it some bizarre-o party dimension.” 

“Strange,” Phineas crossed his arms, “the whole idea of other dimensions feels familiar to me, but I can’t remember why.“

“It doesn't matter,” Dipper said, “You’ve seen him now, let's just get out of here.” 

“Right.” 

Phineas made a move for his wrist, activating the communications watch he had put on, but before he could press the button he looked up with a sheepish smile. 

“Uh, about that,” he laughed nervously, “we were so excited to get to Mabel’s mind, I forgot that somebody has to stay awake in the outside world to bring us out.”

“So we’re stuck here?!” Dipper gasped.

“Only until Mabel’s body wakes up naturally!” Phineas explained hastily, “It was two o’clock when we first went to sleep, so at most that’s five hours before sunrise.” 

Dipper groaned in frustration, wringing his hands, “I knew this wasn’t a good idea.” 

“Awww c’mon bro!” Mable nudged him gently with her shoulder, “There are worse places to be stuck.” 

With a flourish, Mabel summoned a shimmering golden unicorn, which was walking on its hind legs, pushing a tea tray. It whinnied “G’day” before disappearing into the gray of the woods. 

“Agree to disagree,” Dipper huffed. 

He was giving Mabel a hard time but he didn’t really mean it. Not all of it, at least. He was her brother, he needed to be at least a little bit of a pest. 

“Well, I for one am sorry I got us into all this,” Phineas rocked back and forth in his stance, “I should have known to leave well enough alone, like you said, Dipper.” 

“Hey don’t worry about it man,” came Dipper’s response, “Why don’t we walk back to Mabel Land? It’ll kill time, and if we get lost we can just summon a map or something.” 

“Yeah!” His sister agreed, “and if we get there on time, I can introduce you to Craz and Xyler!” 

Phineas shot an eyebrow up at this, “more memories of yours?” 

“Yep!” Mabel said with a little too much enthusiasm, “C’mon, I’ll lead the way!”

Chapter Text

The three of them walked silently in the woods for a while, with burnt black trees passing by, each indistinguishable from the last, until finally, Phineas cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“So that was Bill huh?”

“Eeyup.” Mabel responded with a dour tone, popping the ‘p’ so loudly it echoed.

“If you don’t mind– and it’s ok if you do– I have some questions.”

“Ok, shoot.”

“Well,” Phineas paused, his mouth open slightly, it was clear he was trying to be careful about what he was about to say, “I guess my question is what did he do?”

At this point, a strange wind began to blow, it seemed to whisper nevermind nevermind nevermind.

“Well for one, he turned the entire population of Gravity Falls into stone, and built a throne with their bodies.” Dipper said this a little too casually, as he picked something from between his teeth.

Phineas froze, “He what?!”

The wind was picking up now, the creaking branches groaning, nevermind nevermind nevermind.

“He trapped me in a prison of all of my dreams come true,” Mabel interjected gravely “I would have stayed there by choice if Dipper hadn’t gotten me out.”

“Oh” Phineas gasped, “My gosh, I–”

“He was insane,” Dipper concluded, “He was going to kill everything and everyone on Earth just so he could throw a party.

The birds seemed to be screaming it now, nevermind nevermind nevermind.

Phineas had gone pale, Mabel didn’t look much better. Dipper, not realizing he’d been holding his breath, gasped and inhaled trying to shake off the anxiety that had risen in him.

“So, if all this happened, how come most of the world never noticed?” Phineas asked, his tone held no trace of skepticism, just genuine curiosity.
“The Mayor passed a law about it,” Mabel explained, “The Nevermind All That Act. We’re not really supposed to talk about anything that happened when Bill was around.”

“That seems like it violates the constitution.”

“It does,” Dipper shrugged, “But the folks in Gravity Falls have always preferred to turn a blind eye to that kind of weirdness. Besides, it’s not like they can enforce it.”

“It’s more symbolic than anything.” Mabel added helpfully.

“Ah,” Phineas said stiffly.

“You ok man?” Dipper asked, as he resumed walking, the others following suit, “you seem nervous.”

“I’m ok.” Phineas nodded his head, “I just… well I just have to process all that.”

“Whaaat?!” Mabel laughed, “c’mon, you’ve met a ton of weird monsters! You and your brother practically defy the laws of time with how quickly you build things, what's so weird about a little interdimensional demon?”

“The malice,” Phineas said quietly.

Dipper didn’t hear him say it, but Mabel had. The shrieking birds, and rattling branches, and shivering wind all became silent at once. Dipper, oblivious, kept walking.

“I know what you mean,” Mabel sighed.

“I barely know what I mean,” Phineas shrugged, and turned away to follow after Dipper.

“No wait! I’m serious,” Mabel insisted, “Coming to Danville reminds me a lot of what I was like before Bill showed up.”

Mabel looked up at the burnt trees all around them and sighed, “Somehow the world seems like it’s on your side. Even the monsters you find are nice to you!”

“I never considered the idea that they’d be anything else,” Phineas admitted lamely.

“Exactly!” Mabel pointed her finger at him, excited, “before Bill it seemed silly– and really a bummer– to worry that anything in the world was out to get me. I thought at worst, the people who hurt me were just kinda, misunderstood.”

“Like the Lake Nose monster,” Phineas interjected.

“I dunno what that means, but yeah,” Mabel laughed quietly, “But I learned that you gotta be careful.”

She looked up at Phineas, and then looked past him. He turned around to see a strange round man in a gray jumpsuit and goggles. Mabel sighed. There was a long stretch where neither of them said anything.

“I’m sorry,” she finally broke the silence, “The point is, I understand. It’s hard to get used to the idea that there’s people in the world who would let other people get hurt so they can achieve their own goals. It’s scary.”

“Yeah,” Phineas nearly whispered.

“There’s good news though!” Mabel said, as she began to walk along the path once more, “most people really are just kinda trying their best. Jerks like Bill are once in a dimension.”

He laughed and followed after her, “that is good news.”

By the time Dipper realized that he’d lost Phineas and Mabel, it was just a bit too late. Bill descended upon him like a vulture to a carcass.

“Y’know Pine Tree, I think this is the dumbest thing I’ve seen you kids do.”

He jumped at the sound of the demon’s voice, but he shook Bill off and kept walking, “Shut up, you’re just Mabel’s mind playing tricks on her.”

Bill hovered in front of him, blocking the path to Mabel Land, “wanna bet?”

“Uh no,” Dipper.

“Your loss!”

Bill snapped his fingers, and Dipper found himself awake in a cold sweat on a yellow lawn chair. He sat up and rushed over to the sleeping form of his sister. He tried to shake her awake but to no avail.

“Mabel? Mabel!” His voice was growing loud, Dipper didn’t notice the kitchen light of the Flynn-Fletcher house flick on, instead he dove for the machine. Dipper tried to make sense of the myriad of wires and switches, but he had no idea what any of them did. He knew better than to start flipping them at random.

He began to pace nervously around the backyard. The Bill he had just seen couldn’t have been real, could it? No, of course not. It was just Mabel's mind, the same way they’d heard Bill’s laughter earlier today. But then, why did he wake up? Why was Mabel having such a hard time getting rid of him? Something was wrong, he started to feel his breath getting shallow, panic clinging to his ribs–

“Dipper?”

Linda Flynn-Fletcher stood in the kitchen door, wrapped in a blanket and with curlers in her hair.

“Is everything alright?”

Dipper stepped away from where Mabel and Phineas were sleeping, relatively hidden in the shadow of the tree, and into the yellow light cast from the kitchen. It was obvious that Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher hadn’t seen them. Something strange bubbled up in Dipper as he stepped over the threshold and inside. He remembered old stories of Candice trying to get her brothers in trouble with their mom, and wondered how she would react if she saw what they boys managed to create daily. Dipper decided right then and there: Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher couldn’t know. Not about the inventions, not about Weirdmaggedon, none of it.

“I’m ok” He spoke carefully, “do you have a phone I can use?”

“Of course dear, but why are you in our backyard? It’s nearly three in the morning!”

“My sister’s pet pig Waddles got out,” The lie rolled off of his tongue before he had even thought of it, “It’s my fault too, I accidentally left the back door open.”

“Oh dear,” Her face became the picture perfect model of ‘mom worry’ “I’ll be sure to keep an eye out. Did you need the phone now?”

“Please”

He walked shakily to where the old landline handset rested on the kitchen counter. Dipper punched in the number for the Mystery Shack, expecting to hit Soos’s voicebox, but after just one ring somebody picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Melody?” Dipper spoke stiffly, he didn’t know Melody well enough to be bothering her this late, “what are you doing up?”

“Eh, it’s only midnight,” Dipper could hear rustling and the quieting of TV chatter, “there was a cryptid marathon on, figured I’d get some ideas for the shop.”

“Great” Dipper wasn’t really listening, “I’m sorry to bother you but have my Uncles left a new number to call? We haven’t heard from them since they were in Portugal

Melody yawned, “do you need me to look right now?”

He turned to look into the backyard, where Mabel and Phineas were still trapped with Bill, “It would really be a big help, I need to get in touch with them as soon as possible.”

Upon checking the shop's address book– yes, an honest-to-goodness paper address book– there was no new number. He thanked Melody and hung up. Unexpectedly, upon trying the Portugal number, nobody answered, it just kept ringing. By ten rings Dipper hung the phone up, with a frustrated grunt. He turned around and jumped at the sight of Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher reading a magazine at the kitchen counter.

“Now, I may be an out-of-touch mom,” she said with a knowing smile, “but I don’t think Waddles is with your Uncles on that boat of theirs.”

Dipper winced, “You’re right, he’s not.”

“Do you want to talk about what’s really going on?”

“Do I really have a choice?”

“Of course you do, dear,” Linda said with a small laugh, “I’m a mom, we worry, it comes with the territory. But, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

“Then I won’t,” Dipper said, a little too coldly. He paused, trying to correct, “I mean, I think I’d rather not then.”

“That’s fine hon,” she turned a page in her magazine, “now, do you have any more calls to make? I have a book club tomorrow morning.”

“No,” Dipper said sheepishly, “Sorry, I’ll get out of your hair.”

Mabel and Phineas kept walking, eventually they agreed to pick up the pace to catch up to Dipper.

“He must have noticed he left us behind by now,” Phineas panted.

“Oh I’m sure he’s looking for us just like we’re looking for him, like a game of two-way hide and seek!”

Sure enough, her brother’s voice cut through the woods, “Hello? Anyone there?”

Mabel perked up, and ran off the path into a thicket, following the sound, a few moments later she emerged with Dipper in tow.

Dipper waved sheepishly, “Hey there buds! Looks like I got a little lost back there. Thanks for finding me!”

“Hey no problem!” Phineas smiled, “did you see anything cool up ahead?”

“Ah no, the footpath is a total bore, one-way ticket to snoozeville if you ask me,” Dipper flung his arm around Mabel, “say, sister-o-mine, what do you say we conjure up a faster way to get to Mabel land?”

Mabel frowned, “What happened to walking by killing time?”

“Time schmime, I’m over this,” Dipper interjected. He snapped his fingers and poofed into life three pink, glittery clouds similar to the ones that had initially taken them into the woods, “hop on!”

Phineas hopped aboard, but Mable stayed where she was, “Phineas get off the cloud, he’s not talking right.”

“What?” Phineas protested, “but–”

“Dude, seriously just do it!”

“Well alright.” He did as he was told, side-eying Mable slightly.

“I know this trick Bill,” Mabel scoffed at the form of Dipper, which was beginning to warp and distort in odd ways, “seriously, get some new material.”

Bill-Dipper screeched with laughter, keeling over so his hands were on his knees. The top of the figure split open, and Dipper’s skin peeled away to reveal Bill on the inside, as expected. Phineas cringed away from the crumpled hollow Dipper which fell to the floor. Meanwhile Mable seemed unphased. Her gaze was locked in on the demon floating before them.

“Well Shooting Star I gotta say you’ve really ruined my fun with this one. I mean seriously.”

“Good!” Mable spat, “you don’t deserve to have fun. This is my mind, and I want you out.”

“Well in that case,” Bill paused, gesturing as though he was thoroughly considering something, but Mable was just waiting for the punchline, “NO!”

And, there it was. Suddenly, Bill had grown to the size of a pyramid. He swung his arms around wildly, sending a cascade of trees, falling like dominos, in all directions.

“RUN!” Phineas lunged towards Mabel, grabbing her wrist and pulling her along. The two took off sprinting in the direction of Mabel Land.

Chapter Text

Perry was having a weird day. It started normal, as all weird days do, the usual briefing-trap-backstory-self-destruct-curse-you-perry-the-platypus routine had gone off without a hitch. But, just as he was preparing to land in the Flynn-Fletcher backyard, his watch beeped for a second time. Major Monogram gave him orders to make a u-turn:

“We are receiving reports that Doofenshmirtz has purchased all the chamomile tea and lavender candles in the tri-state area. It looks like he’s in for a particularly relaxing evening, and as they say ‘there’s no rest for the wicked’ so, go and put a stop to it Agent P.”

Perry rolled his eyes, but ultimately did as he was directed. He dove into the open balcony of Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated, landing in a combat-ready position, only to find his nemesis lounging in front of the TV, a big bowl of popcorn on his lap.

“Perry the Platypus?” Doof looked up, surprised, “If you’re here for your grappling hook it's too late, finders keepers you know.”

Exasperated, Perry looked past Dr. Doofenshmirtz pointedly. A mountainous stack of tea-bags had appeared in the half hour since Perry had left.

“What, this?” Doof asked, “Perry the Platypus this has nothing to do with evil. So I bulk-order my groceries, so what? It saves me hundreds every year.”

Perry tilted his head slightly, this time looking at the even larger pile of lavender candles. They were of all different shapes and sizes, everything from generic glass jars to ornately sculpted dipped wax.

“Oh, alright, so I’ve had a little trouble sleeping these past few weeks, sue me!”

Perry jabbed his thumb to his left, directing Doof’s attention to an imposing silver satellite dish with a panel of complex buttons and dials on its base platform.

“Oh alright, thwart me! Fine! But before you do, can I offer you a slice of baked Alaska? Vanessa worked all day on it, and I simply cannot bear the thought of it going to waste.”

Perry followed Doofenshmirtz to the kitchen, only to suddenly be pinned to the floor by a net dropped from the ceiling.

“Ha!” Doofenshmirtz laughed, “The old, my-daughter-worked-so-hard-on-this-baked-Alaska trick works every time! I really do have some, it’s store bought, but pretty good. Would you like a piece?”

Perry glared at him.

“Fine, fine, they have you working after hours, I get it.” He held his arms out at his sides, achieving the closest thing possible to a menacing stance, “Behold, Perry the Platypus, the live-your-dreams-inator!

As a means of demonstration, Doofenshmirtz wheeled over a caged hamster. She was curled up in a ball, asleep. He zapped her with a small, hand-held remote. Nothing happened. He smacked it against the palm of his hand, still nothing. He flipped it over, and toggled something, sighing.

“A word of advice, Perry the Platypus, never run your wireless inator controls through Wi-Fi. The Bluetooth components are pricier, but worth it for the convenience.”

He fiddled with it for a bit longer, before zapping the hamster again. Seconds later, a cornucopia of fruits and vegetables materialized in her enclosure.

“You see, back in Gimmelshtump, my brother Roger always said he would be a Mayor one day, and of course, everyone thought that was the most brilliant idea. They always said he would make it. They were right, of course, and now whenever we go to family reunions they say ‘ooh look at Roger, now there’s a man who gets to live his dream! This year, my cousin Gutrude will be attending with her family. She’s always wanted to be a mother, I can just hear them now ‘look at Gurtrude, living her dreams!’ They’re all living it up! Mocking me with their personal achievements and fulfilling lives.

“But soon, I’ll have my revenge. All I have to do is fall asleep, and when I wake up, I’ll have everything I’ve ever wanted, or in other words, I’ll become ruler of the entire Tri-State Area!”

Doofenshmirtz paused, glancing at Perry who was still trapped.

“But,” he said, suddenly more miffed than menacing, “It’s really not going to be ready until tomorrow, per our usual schedule.”

Incredulous, Perry pointed at the hamster cage full of produce.

“What, this?” Doof shook his head, “Just a placeholder projection until I get the occipital sensors working, see?”

He zapped himself with the dream-inator, then Perry, then the wall, three identical spreads of produce were beamed into existence beside each target.

“You could defeat me now, or, you could go home, rake in that overtime pay, and come back tomorrow and thwart my fully functioning inator!”

He paused, “Now, come to think of it, do you make overtime pay? Because nobody ever mentioned it during those dark few weeks when I was an agent…”
Perry rolled his eyes, but then shook his head.

“No? No overtime? You’re completely off the clock? Yeesh, sometimes I wonder if I’m really the one with the evil corporation. Well, in that case I insist, Perry the Platypus. You go home and do whatever it is you do in your downtime. I’ll stay here, work on my Inator, maybe order a pizza. You want some pizza? No, no, that right, you’re heading home. Tell Francis that he jumped the gun on this one.”

Befuddled, but also too tired to really care, Perry simply shrugged. He jogged towards the balcony’s edge, and jumped off the side, landing comfortably in the seat of his hover car. He checked the clock. It was nearly three in the morning.