Disclaimer: I do not own Gravity Falls or its fun characters and world; they all belong to the wonderful Alex Hirsch.

1

"This is a bad idea."

"You're just saying that because it's a party."

"No. I'm not." Gripping his sister's sleeve, Dipper forced Mabel to a halt. She spun around with an exaggerated sigh.

Mabel was dressed to impress of course, in a red sweater she'd sewn herself. Instead of being thick and wooly though, she'd changed it up a bit, using a thinner material Dipper assumed was silk that scooped across her collarbone and fell just off her shoulders. When asked, her explanation had been that it allowed her more movement so she could "blow everyone away with her hecka awesome dance skills". Judging by the way the material was nearly slipping completely off her shoulders every three seconds, he figured the change tonight was for more reasons than just that.

She was also wearing make-up. A lot of it. Which…wasn't very Mabel-like at all.

She noticed him frowning and grabbed his shoulders, shaking him back and forth senselessly. "Bro, chiiiill. This is a party! It's fuuuun! There's music. And free food. Pretty girls. Look alive, man! Your fellow teenageren are counting on you!" She leaned in close and whispered dramatically. "Don't be the buzz kill."

Dipper pushed her face away. "Mabel, you and I have different definitions of fun. Don't you remember how well it went the last time we tried hanging out with a bunch of teenagers together?"

She started walking again. "Pfft, it was just a couple lost spirits at the mall. We took care of it easy peasy."

"You got possessed by one and tried to kill everyone."

"That was one time!"

"Twice, actually, if you count that time with Wendy at the convenience store."

Mabel threw up her hands. "Okay, twice! Sheesh! I'm still alive, aren't I? Everything turned out fine."

"And now we're walking into a party where the monster is disguised as a kid that we know almost nothing about," continued Dipper, "including what he looks like."

"Hey." Mabel pointed a finger. "This was your idea, buddy. Don't forget, you were the one that said the party was a perfect cover. "

"I know, I know. But—"Dipper scrambled for an argument, but came up empty. "That was before I thought everything through. I thought it through now, and it's not a good idea. So let's go back."

"Nuh uh," Mabel told him. "No taksies backsies. You're going to this party, Dipper, even if I have to drag you by your feet kicking and screaming."

"Geez, that's kinda harsh."

She must have heard a shift in his voice because in the next second she was bumping into his shoulder and forcing him to stumble a little off balance on the sidewalk. "You know, it's okay to be, like, scared of the kids," said Mabel, a bit softer. "That's a totally A-Okay fear to have, Dip. You don't have to get all flustered about it."

He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess…"

He'd never really been the best with people. Not like Mabel, who was a social butterfly in every sense of the word. Kids his age had always made him nervous, and it wasn't their fault or anything, he just didn't fit in with them. He was too mature or something. Things they wanted to talk about bored him and things he wanted to talk about made them stare at him like he'd grown two heads. It didn't really help that he was quiet either. Mabel was quirky too, but she was loud about it. When you were loud, you demanded attention and received it without question. When you pulled away from people, that's how you were treated: like you weren't there at all.

Dipper much preferred silence over the unwanted attention he'd had in middle school. He'd learned after eighth grade that shutting up about conspiracies and mysteries left the bullies without any ammo to use against him, and also made it easier to find a couple of school friends that would stick by him.

But a couple was a couple. It certainly wasn't a mansion filled to the brim with raunchy teenagers.

"—I'm just saying," Mabel continued, as they rounded the street corner. "That everyone gets nervous about stuff like that. Heck, I'm pretty nervous about that right now. Can you believe it? Ha ha, me of all people, nervous about people? It's crazy! It's just we've never been invited to a party this big before and it's all so new and exciting I can't wai—WHOA MY GOSH, HOLY GUACAMOLE, LOOK AT ALL THOSE CARS!"

She gaped at the line of parked vehicles that stretched down the street and curved off onto the next. It was clear out of the many expensive houses situated on the block which was party central tonight. About halfway down the street a house was lit up from the inside and bleeding yellow light out on to the yard. A few teenagers could be seen mingling around on the freshly cut lawn. Dipper felt his palms start to perspire.

He could face a horde of supernatural creatures, but not a couple handfuls of normal teenagers. Go figure.

The sight seemed to have the opposite effect on Mabel. She squealed and grabbed his wrist, carting them both as quickly as she could down the sidewalk. Before he knew it, Mabel was clumsily pulling him up the stairs and he was banging his big toe on the last step and then they were both standing at the front door, staring at the brass knocker.

Mabel eagerly reached for it but Dipper intercepted her. "Wait. Remember the plan."

"Find the monster dude, chop him up, stay focused, blah blah."

"Mabel, this is serious."

"I am being serious!" She paused and tilted her head to the side, scrutinizing him. "You remembered to put on deodorant before you left, right?"

"What? Yeah, why—Ahh, Mabel!" She had grabbed his arms and lifted them up for inspection.

"Ah, yes, just as I suspected. Sweaty already. " She let his hands drop and then touched the tip of his nose. "Boop. Ha ha."

"We need a signal," Dipper huffed, trying to veer her back on course. He prayed none of the teenagers outside had witnessed that little exchange. "Like when we think we've found the guy?"

"How about 'aaahhh'?"

He gave her his best I-cannot-believe-we-are-related-why-do-I-ask-you-for-anything look.

Mabel snapped her fingers. "Cheese turnips!" When his look only hardened, she explained herself. "Think about it! Who's going to shout something like that ever? No one! But is it something you could shout at a crazy teen party, as opposed to, say, taxes or something? Yeah! It's perfect! And this way we'll know for sure it's us!"

"That…" Dipper thought about it. "That's actually really smart. Ridiculous, but smart."

Mabel held herself up a little higher. "I know. I try." She grabbed the brass knocker and rapped on the door three times.

"Okay," Dipper muttered within the few seconds they had left. "We have a plan and a signal. Just remember to—"

"—Stay focused." Mabel shot him a braces-free grin. "Don't worry, bro. I got dis. Just follow my lead."

'Somehow I'm not comforted.' Dipper thought to himself, just as someone finished fumbling with the doorknob inside the house.

The door swung open and a grinning blonde appeared before them, clad in a sparkling halter top and heels. She squealed at the sight of Mabel and flung her arms around her, and both girls started hopping up and down on the porch. Dipper thought that this was kind of odd; he was pretty sure Mabel wasn't close friends with their hostess, Marcie. Marcie O'Malley. Queen Bee and the second richest person the Pines knew, only next to Pacifica Northwest, who evidently also happened to be the Queen Bee type. Luckily their time with Pacifica was limited to the summers. Marcie they were stuck with every other season of the year in Piedmont.

Nonetheless, Dipper forced a smile when Marcie finally pulled away and took sight of him behind his sister. "And this must be your brother," Marcie said, and the way her red lip curled as she took him in made a sudden heat rise to his face.

Was she checking him out?

Mabel made a surprised noise. "Oh, right! Intro time! Dipper, Marcie; Marcie, Dipper!" She gestured to each of them in turn. Dipper held out his hand and Marcie accepted it with a shake.

"We've sort of met before," he said. "We go to the same school together."

"Well, obviously," Marcie said, and he felt his face grow hotter. Way to state the obvious, idiot. She pulled the door open wider for the twins to step through. "C'mon in, guys. You haven't missed much. The party is just getting started."

Naturally the twins were separated almost immediately.

Dipper was instantly aware of the bass growling beneath his feet like a ravenous animal, and Mabel, her attention span matching that of a sparrow (on good days), peeling away from him to flutter off into the forests of twisting bodies. He tried not to be too bothered by it. This was the plan, after all; to split up and keep an eye out for anything odd or stranger than the norm for teenage parties. The second Mabel's warmth slipped away from him though, he had to fight the urge to cower away like a child missing his security blanket.

This house was so big.

There were so many people he didn't know.

A light touch on his elbow made him jump. "You okay?" Marcie raised her voice to be heard over the commotion. "You look kinda sick."

"I'm fine," he lied, just as loud. "Just got dizzy for a sec. Sorry."

"Can I get you something to drink?"

"I'm alright right now, thanks."

Marcie frowned, but didn't press him any further. As she walked away, Dipper thought that maybe he'd judged her too harshly; maybe he'd been wrong about her. The concern in her eyes had been genuine enough. He watched the dark sea of bodies swallow up her luminescent hair like a dying star, until he stood small and alone at the mouth of this grand hall. He'd driven away the only person who had seemed remotely interested in conversing with him. Great.

Stifling a sigh, Dipper turned and started off in the opposite direction Mabel had disappeared in. Oh well. He was here to monster hunt, not socialize. He was here to save lives, not learn about them. He had a job to do.

Who cared what other people thought, right?

They were just tangled seaweed in the ocean, a minor inconvenience. He would wade right through them.

"—and then I said, who cares, right? But I actually did care. I mean, this is my best friend! My pet pig! How could I just leave him behind? How could I break his heart like that?"

A semi-circle of wary teens exchanged glances with each other as Mabel Pines' incredibly loud rant continued. "It was so unfair! I swear I was crying forever; even my bro, Dipper, couldn't cheer me up. But then I got a snap chat from my friend, Wendy, and it was Waddles! She promised to keep sending me pictures of him every day during her shifts at the Mystery Shack, and things have been awesome ever since! Check it out!" She whipped out her phone and displayed a lovely background picture of her precious pet adorned in a top hat and little black suit. Some gazes softened. Most just grew warier, like Mabel Pines was a rare species they had never stumbled across before.

An arm slithered around her neck and steered her away from the group. Marcie paused to throw a tight smile over her shoulder before turning to Mabel again. Her lip curled in disgust. "C'mon, Pines, you have to do better than that."

"What?"

"That." Marcie pointed to Mabel's cellphone. "Nobody talks about stuff like that! Seriously, Mabel, I thought we were over this. Keep the weird stuff to a minimum."

A cloud passed over Mabel's sunny smile. "But I…I like that stuff."

"And no one else does."

Another girl started to slide around their huddle. She noticed Mabel's sweater and did a double take. "Wow that is such an adorable sweater! Where did you get it?" she gushed.

"I made it!" exclaimed Mabel proudly, all white teeth and dimples.

The teen blinked. "Oh, that's…cool."

She walked away.

"See?" Marcie gestured furiously. "Look, I'm not trying to be mean or anything, but maybe you should keep the talking to a minimum. Have a drink. Dance. It looks like you need it." With a flourish, Marcie was gone again, only light traces of vanilla and hairspray lingering in her wake.

Mabel pocketed her phone. Frustrated tears were fighting to well up in her eyes, but she swallowed down the tide. Mabel liked Marcie-she was a good friend usually- but when she got around other people like this, it was like Marcie wasn't…Marcie. She was replaced with a razor-sharp tongue and perfectly polished claws, and they had dug deep into Mabel tonight.

Her eyes wandered back to the group she'd been chatting with before. They'd filed in around each other and completed the circle and it didn't look like there was room for one more. Forcing her shoulders back, optimistic thoughts spilling forth into her head like glitter glue, Mabel skipped off to where the edge of the multi-colored dance floor could be seen, a pulsing heartbeat in the far room.

Oh well. The night was still young. There were still plenty of new people to meet.

And who cared what other people thought, right?

Almost as soon as the thought passed through her head, a boy peeked around the open doorway and winked as Mabel approached. The shifting lights painted a strong jaw, soft lips, eyes that shimmered different colors; blue, purple, red.

Mabel giggled.

"Dude, go long!" A husky voice shouted, followed by the tell-tale shattering of expensive glass upon the marble floor.

Dipper maneuvered around the mess as inebriated teenagers gathered around to whoop and cheer. The night was passing without event. With no supernatural signs in sight, he'd caved and broken the promise he'd made to himself not to drink. It was just one cup, just a bit of alcohol to calm his racing nerves. And in the end, he wound up socializing in the less noisy parts of the house.

It had occurred to him that night that he was, well, attractive to female eyes. The number of coy fingers that had slid up his arm or coiled around a strand of hair had left him blushing and flustered on more than one account. He couldn't say he disliked the attention, but the lack of supernatural weirdness kept knocking on the back of his head as if it were the front door. He couldn't shake the bad feeling he had. Something was off. Mabel and he had tracked the monster to this house, and their tracking was never wrong. The monster was here, somewhere.

He had to find Mabel. Maybe she'd had better luck than he did and actually had a lead.

He was so lost in thought he failed to notice the other body in front of him until he'd jostled against them.

"Sorry!" Dipper apologized. "Aw, geez, I hope I didn't get anything on you," he said, moving his drink away.

A short curly head popped up and then he found himself looking down into the prettiest pair of dark eyes he'd ever seen. "You're fine!" the girl said. "I think your cup is pretty empty anyway."

The bass was positively thunderous on this side of the house. Dipper strained to hear her. "What?"

"I said, I think your cup is pretty empty anyway!"

"Oh! Well…yeah!" He chuckled nervously. "I, uh, wasn't really planning on drinking a lot!"

"Drinking isn't really my thing!" She smiled, and wow, her smile was even prettier than her eyes. "Maybe we should…"

"Go somewhere quieter?"

"Yeah!"

She took his arm and led him into the next room, where the music was considerably softer in volume. "I'm Rashel," she said, at a normal indoor volume.

"Dipper."

"A nickname I take it?"

"Yeah. I've had it since I was young."

Rashel smiled again. "That's kind of cute."

He rubbed the back of his neck, blushing. "Not when you're 16, almost 17 years old."

"Nah, I think it's still cute."

He smiled.

They continued chatting. Dipper learned that Rashel planned to study astrophysics in college, and was already being offered scholarships. She had an older brother. She loved dogs. And she thought he was funny. (Ha, nobody ever laughed at his bad jokes!) It seemed impossible that he'd missed meeting an amazing girl like this at school.

At the mention of her brother, the twin's current predicament came flooding back to him. Shit, he forgot to find Mabel.

"Hey, Rashel?" She watched him curiously. "You haven't seen my sister around by chance, have you? About yea tall. Looks just like me. We're twins, actually."

Recognition flickered through her dark eyes. "Yeah. You know what; I think I saw a girl like that heading upstairs with Trevor a little bit ago. They, uh…couldn't really keep their hands off of each other, if you know what I mean."

Dipper worked to keep his voice controlled. "Is that so?" Seriously? Mabel was seriously hooking up with some guy during their monster hunt? Unbelievable.

Rashel chuckled softly. "I guess you're one of those over protective bros, huh?"

"My sister's not exactly the best judge of character."

"Don't worry. She'll be okay."

The knocking was sudden fists pounding the back of his skull. Something really wasn't right here. Mabel was a lot of things, but she wasn't careless without reason in the middle of danger. There was always a method to her madness, however hard it was to see. What if she was drunk? What if the guy was taking advantage of her and she wasn't even aware? Dipper wouldn't be able to hear her scream the signal from here.

He slammed his drink down on the nearest countertop. "I-I have to go."

"Dipper? Is everything alright?" Rashel grabbed his arm but he shook her off. "Wait, can I at least get your number? It…was really fun, talking to you."

He whipped out a pen and his investigation notebook and quickly scribbled down his number. "I'm really really sorry, Rashel. You are totally awesome and hopefully we can talk again later, okay? Cause I want to too." He ripped off the piece of paper and handed it to her with an apologetic smile.

"I'll text you," Rashel said.

"Counting on it."

Dipper turned his back on her and rushed to the main entrance of the house. The crowds were still like seaweed but he was water now, weaving expertly around elbows and under arms and against chests. They paid him no attention and he to them. He manipulated these currents. They moved for him.

At last he burst into the house's grand entranceway. Glass from a chandelier above his head littered the floor and shimmered like crystals. Leaping on to the first step, he took the curved staircase two steps at a time, his hand already holding his side pocket where, if he pressed his fingers, he'd feel the cool burn of his knife through his khaki shorts. It was comforting.

The second floor landing opened up in two different directions. Much like the rest of the house, both halls stretched on with closed door upon closed door, but there was no one he could see immediately up here. The music was entirely muffled through the carpeting. The last thing he wanted to do was open up each of these doors to figure out which room his sister and Trevor were busy in, but it was looking like his only option. He had to remain stealthy. Yelling would blow his cover. Heart banging in his ribcage, sending silent apologies to every couple he was about to peek in on, Dipper grasped the first door's knob.

"God, help me," he prayed.

His name was Trevor Duncan.

He was 6'1", played baseball, and was totally smokin' hot.

Mabel giggled against his lips, and wound her fingers tighter through his short cropped hair.

Oh yeah, and he was a super duper good kisser.

His big hands slid around her back and pulled her flush against him, eliciting a moan from her quickly reddening lips. Every so often he would nudge at the lower hem of her sweater, and his cool fingers would brush her bare skin, silently asking permission to slip underneath her clothes and hold her tighter.

Well, duh.

When at last she had to break away or face oxygen deprivation, her hands slid up Trevor's chest, pushing him back only slightly. "We should probably go somewhere more private," she gasped, still trying to catch her breath.

Trevor nosed against her neck. "Funny," he said, peppering her neck with slick kisses. "I was about to say the same thing."

Mabel grinned, and, when she was sure he couldn't see, touched the dagger sheathed against her forearm, hidden beneath her sweater sleeve. Boys were so predictable. She knew every one's weakness.

They stumbled up the curling staircase, still locked in each other's embrace. Marcie's house was beautiful; glimmering and polished white. It reminded Mabel of princesses and lost kingdoms, something out of its world that belonged entirely to a fairytale.

Upstairs seemed to stretch on forever. Trevor decided on one of the many assorted doors, and they fell back into a bedroom together, the door not even entirely shut before Mabel was pulling him closer and slamming it closed with her backside.

It's a shame this wouldn't be able to continue. He really was a cute guy.

She'd thought about telling Dipper that she'd found the monster. She knew he was going to be pissed when he realized she hadn't told him. It had been obvious after Trevor displayed his extreme strength for her (and also sneezed fire) that he wasn't quite what he seemed. But then she'd come up with a plan, and decided to have a little fun, cause why not? Whatever Trevor was, was human enough. Might as well make the best of it.

Mabel's arms slid from his neck and down around his waist, where her fingers pretended to toy with the hem of his t-shirt much like his had played with hers earlier. Trevor got the message. He nudged her arms away and began pulling his shirt off. With her hands at her sides and out of sight, Mabel began slowing unsheathing her knife from under sleeve.

It was nearly free when a piercing scream ricocheted from down the hall. "EW! GET OUT OF HERE, PERVERT!" She lost her grip on the knife and it clattered to the hardwood floor.

Trevor, free of his shirt, followed her gaze to the fallen weapon.

Everything happened very quickly after that.

Mabel kicked his legs out from under him and lunged for her weapon. She managed to get one good swipe in across his face before Trevor grabbed her ankle and tossed her across the room like a ragdoll. She slid until her back collided with a dresser. Her spine groaned in protest.

Trevor growled, and his once pretty face contorted into an ugly snarl. His brilliant blue eyes were a boiling crimson red. "Stupid, bitch. That was my favorite shirt." She realized, during her sliding, she'd kept a tight grip on her knife and torn straight through the fabric laying abandoned on the ground.

She edged at a piece with the tip of her knife. "It wasn't really that cute," Mabel decided. "Red isn't your color."

Trevor charged and Mabel rolled out of the way, back on to her feet. Heat burned through her sweater sleeve and ripped through her skin, leaving ugly blisters behind. She grabbed her arm, moaning a little. The spot she'd been in moments ago was now charred and smoking.

Her chocolate eyes widened. "What the freakin heck are you?"

He whirled around, and she watched his eyes harden back to their normal icy hue. He flashed her a weird smile that was all teeth, no tongue. "Your worst nightmare."

Mabel snorted. "Oh, please, Mr. Firebreath. I've met worse than a cutie like you." She dodged another flaming blast then lunged forward, raking the knife down his forearm. Blood, human blood, exploded through the cut and spilled over his skin.

She stared, dumbfounded for a second too long. Trevor lashed out and grabbed her wrist, twisting until it snapped like a twig. Mabel screeched, and the knife was plucked from her useless fingers and thrown across the floor.

"You think a little knife is going to do anything against me?" Trevor demanded, shaking her shattered wrist.

She gave a hoarse cry. "Cheese turnips!"

Trevor paused and stared at Mabel like she was insane, which normally would've been hilarious, even a snap chat worthy moment, if her wrist wasn't too broken to hold a phone and she weren't fighting through her tears to scream. Oh, God, she was too far away, wasn't she? Dipper couldn't hear her like this. He was probably still downstairs. Maybe she should have just stuck to, you know, not coming up with side plans.

She tried to project her voice as much as she could. Each time it became shriller. "Cheese turnips! Cheese turnips! Cheese turnips! Cheese turnips-!"

Her next scream was trapped in her throat as Trevor's hands closed around her neck and squeezed. "What the hell is that? Some kind of code name?" He snarled. He lifted her off the ground and Mabel saw stars dancing around the dim bedroom. "I know there's more than one of you here. Where is he, huh? WHERE IS HE?"

Mabel attempted a weak kick at his face, but her foot didn't quite make it. She was losing feeling all over.

And then suddenly she was flying. She landed on her side against the hardwood floor, long hair sweeping across her face like a curtain. Another guy's voice growled out, "Get your hands off my sister!"

If she had any air left in her lungs, she would have sobbed in relief.

Mabel pushed the tangled mass out of her face and found her brother wrestling with the monster on the ground. His knife was out. The muscles in his arms flexed as he strained against Trevor's strength. His blade was a mere centimeters away from slitting the creature's throat when Trevor's crystal eyes melted down into a bloody red.

Panic ripped through her. "Dipper!" she screamed, or tried to, the only sound that came out was a wheezed, "Dip!"

He took the message and rolled off of Trevor just before he blew a column of fire right where Dipper had been sitting.

Dipper stared at the other boy, panting hard. "What the holy hell-? "

"The blood!" Mabel tried again and winced when air sawed against her sore throat. "It's human!"

"That's definitely not human, Mabel!"

"No!" she pushed herself up and the bones in her wrist screamed. "Possession! A dem—"

Trevor's foot connected with her jaw and she fell slack against the floor.

"Mabel!"

In a flash Trevor stood towering before Dipper again. What had his twin been trying to tell him? Possession? Trevor was a-a-

A demon.

He raised his knife in one trembling hand. Trevor took one look at him and barked out a laugh.

"So this is what they send to fight me, nowadays? A scared kid and his little slut of a sister." He kneed Dipper in the chest and tossed him up against the wall.

A rib or two cracked, and Dipper was ashamed to admit how quickly the pain winded him. He struggled to breathe. Damn demon strength. "Don't talk about her that way," Dipper ground through his teeth. If the demon wanted to insult him then fine, but involve Mabel and there would be hell to pay.

"Aw, what's the matter?" Trevor—no, the demon, smirked. "Don't like the fact that sissy over there likes to play the game? She's good at it, too. Knows just where to hit it so—"

Dipper lunged forward and punched him in the jaw. Trevor reeled backward, but Dipper grasped his bleeding arm and raked his knife across the demon's chest. He intended to carve an expel sigil in the demon's skin, but then its shocked expression morphed into another bout of laughter. "Whoo! By all means keep beating up the innocent kid! By the time I'm finished here his body will have bled out anyway."

Dipper paused, some of his fury faltering. Crap, it was right. He was hurting Trevor's body.

The demon tsk'd. "You're too soft, Dip." It grabbed Dipper by the shirt front and hurled him into a bed footboard. He felt the jagged corner rip at his shirt. "I gotta say," the demon continued, grabbing and throwing him into a dresser next. The wood splintered and broke under his weight. "I was expecting more after all the stories I heard about you two. The Pines family. Pathetic."

Dipper groaned, pushing off chunks of wood. He hadn't come prepared to deal with a demon. He'd been so sure the monster they were dealing with was a shape-shifter; he'd left all his demon warding crap at home with the Journals. He had to think of something. He needed a back-up plan. Maybe it he kept this thing talking a little longer…

"S-stories?" inquired Dipper. He felt around for his knife. Aw, shit, where did that fall to?

"Oh sure," the demon said with mock impression. "You two are practically celebrities among us supernatural folk. Heard all the stories about your little summer adventures. Everyone said you were all grown up, but you still look like a couple of scrawny brats to me."

"And you still look like a self-entitled dickhead to me."

He expected Trevor to lunge for him but instead the demon opened his mouth and released a glowing column of flames. Dipper rolled across the wood, narrowly avoiding getting burnt to a crisp. He came up standing weaponless, panting hard.

As usual everything was going exactly the way he'd planned it to.

Trevor moved with inhuman speed and backhanded him. He grabbed Dipper by the jacket collar and pulled him close. "Watch it, kid," he hissed. "You don't have any idea what you're up against."

Dipper groaned. "No, I don't. Care to enlighten me? It's someone with a big sense of their own importance, apparently."

The demon opened its mouth, probably to scream at him again, and then something like amusement extinguished the fire in its eyes. Trevor's lips curled into a smirk. "You're clever, kid. I'll give you that. You think I can't tell when you're trying to bait an answer out of me? " Its fingers crept around his neck, tightening once, just to let Dipper know much of his life rested in this demon's hands right now. "How's that great uncle of yours doing? Huh, Dip? That useless handyman? Little red? Good, I hope."

Dipper's heart skipped a beat. "What did you do to them?"

"Damn, you really haven't been paying attention, have you?" Trevor kneed him in the ribs and then gave him a good shove back. Dipper tripped over something and smacked his head against the wall. It felt like his cranium was splitting open down the middle. He saw the world in fractured pieces.

He realized the something he'd sprawled over top of was Mabel.

The demon had turned its attention away from him and was staring out at the bedroom door. A few beats of silence passed, and then it nodded. "Aaaand I guess that's my cue." It turned back to the twins, shrugging casually. "What, you think I came alone? Looks like you have a lot of catching up to do. I'll leave you two to it."

"W-wait!" Dipper's head was spinning. It was just…leaving? Just like that? But he needed more answers!

The demon grinned so wide the skin around Trevor's mouth began to rip. "Big things are coming, kid. Bigger than anything you might've dealt with in the past. I suggest you do your research."

Trevor's eyes pulsed red once, and then his body went limp and collapsed. The demon was gone.

"Damn," Dipper grunted. He had the unspeakable urge to kick the unconscious body at his feet. He fought it back. This body was just an innocent kid now, who was already bleeding profusely from cuts all over. He couldn't do that.

He raked a hand through his sweat soaked hair and surveyed the damage. The room was trashed. Expensive furniture pieces and other decorations were over turned and broken. The shiny hard wood floors were scorched and smoking in more than one area. The pristine white bedding was now the color of ash, and by the window, a curtain was smoldering.

A weak groan sounded from underneath him and his heart seized up in his chest. Mabel.

Dipper scrambled off of her, wincing as the sudden change in position stabbed his ribs. "Mabel?" He touched her shoulder and tried to roll her over gently. "You okay?"

Her normally flushed colored face was paper white. Blood crusted her nose and the length of her jaw, where an angry bruise was beginning to blossom black and blue. Hs heartbeat pounded like a drum in his ears. She looked terrible.

"Mabel?" Dipper shook her a little. His hands shook. "Come on. Get up. I didn't mean to sit on you."

She released a louder groan, and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Everything huuuurts." She peered up at him through half-lidded eyes. "Was I ran over by a truck? Pretty sure I was ran over by a truck. I hope it looked cool."

He was so relieved he didn't bother correcting her grammar. "Can you stand up?"

"I don't know." The ghost of a smile slipped across her face. "Heh. You're a peeping tom, Dip."

He was about to retort back when the bedroom door banged open wide. "What the hell is going on in here?!"

Speak of the Devil.

Dipper instantly recognized the fiery redhead fuming in the doorway from one of the couples he'd peeked in on earlier. Normally he'd be incredibly embarrassed about an encounter like this but he was too rattled up to care. Red recognized him too. Her glare zeroed in on him lighting quick. "You!" She screamed, stalking over to him. "Where the hell were you raised, asshole, huh? A barn? Don't you know better than to—"

Then she seemed to notice the lack of movement coming from Trevor's unconscious body. The blood drained from her face. The scream died on her lips.

Dipper imagined how this all must look to her. Trevor unconscious. Mabel near unconscious. All of them bruised and bloody, but Dipper more awake than the rest. He cringed. "Listen, this isn't what it looks like. I need you to call a hospital. This guy," he gestured to Trevor. "He needs help."

If Red had been any sort of intoxicated before, she was sober now, and to Dipper's relief, didn't start screaming again. Instead she turned and fled the room. He wasn't sure how to take that.

Behind him Mabel had sat up. She wasn't laughing anymore. "We're screwed, bro," she said.

"We're not out of the woods yet," muttered Dipper. "C'mon, there's another threat still here. We have to find it."

"Sorry, I didn't tell you it was Trevor," Mabel shouted to her brother over the music. They were sprinting through the house, looking for any more signs of danger. As far as Mabel could see there was nothing, but that didn't stop Dipper from pulling her along with her good hand at break neck speed. She figured he had to be just as disoriented as she felt, the world was spinning all topsy turvy under her feet, but whatever exchange had gone on between Trevor and he had really freaked the ol' Dipster out.

He sounded frustrated with her. "I don't care about that right now, Mabel! I need you to think. Where did you first meet the dem—uh, Trevor?"

"The dance floor," she answered immediately. If people noticed the twins' haggard states, they didn't comment on them, but Mabel felt like all eyes were on her now, and not in a good way.

Dipper steered them in the direction where the bass was the loudest. As soon as the flashing lights came into view he swore loudly. "Sweet Moses, that's bright."

Mabel's eyes watered. Yeah, her pounding head really wasn't digging those rainbows now.

"Okay," Dipper yelled over the noise. "Something in there is bad. I don't know what. I can't think—"

"Does the music feel louder to you?" Mabel interrupted. Her feet were practically bouncing off the ground to the beat.

"Of course it sounds louder! We're closer to the stereo and we're concussed and—Wait, did you say feels louder?" Dipper's eyes lit up. "Oh!"

"What?" Mabel rubbed her head. "And I don't think concussed is a word."

"It is a word and the stereo, Mabel! We've been looking for a person when really…it's a thing. A weapon!"

Dipper had totally lost her at this point and she didn't have the energy to keep annoying him with more questions. He looked her up and down worriedly. "Hey, you okay?"

"No," Mabel told him honestly. She couldn't see straight and the temperature in Marcie's house was reaching boiling conditions. Or maybe that was just her skin. Did she have a fever? Could a person even get a fever from being burned?

Dipper's frown deepened. "I have to go shut off the music. Can you try to get some people out of the house while I do?"

Anything to get away from those crazy lights. "Yes, sir." Mabel saluted weakly. Dipper cracked a half-hearted smile.

"Awesome. Be careful, okay?" He turned and dashed off on to the dancefloor.

Mabel turned and wandered off to the front of the house. She felt as if she were walking in a dream. Reality's edges were soft and blurry like a damp photograph. A mound of curly hair rose up in front of her eyes.

"Hey! Looks like Dipper found you." The girl with curly hair smiled at Mabel.

Mabel quirked an eyebrow. "You…you know my bro?"

The girl's smile turned bashful. "Well, we were just talking a bit earlier. He was really worried about you." Her gaze took all of Mabel in then, and she made a choked sound. "Wow, oh my God, are you okay?"

Mabel would have to tease Dipper about his flirtations with this girl later. She cut right to the chase. "Uh, you trust Dipper, right?" Mabel asked.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Then I need your help. There's something dangerous in this house and we need to get everyone out, like, ASAP."

Mystery girl frowned. "I…Okay. Okay, I believe you."

"Seriously, just like that?"

"Well, I don't know if you know this, but you are covered in like a layer of soot."

Mabel smiled for the first time in hours. "Dip picked a good girl to get flirty with," she didn't realize she'd said it out loud until the girl laughed.

"I'm Rashel," she said.

"Mabel."

"Alright, Mabel, so what's the plan? How are we going to get everyone out of the house?"

"We don't have to get everyone out. We just have to get word around so when Dipper—"

The music cut off abruptly. A startled scream came from the back of the house.

"You know what?" muttered Mabel. "Never mind."

In retrospect, losing his temper and shouting that there was a bomb connected to the stereo system probably hadn't been the best idea.

It certainly was efficient however.

"What?" Came a woman's shrill voice from the crowd. "Ohmygod. Ohmygod!"

The muscled DJ released the grip he had on the back of Dipper's jacket and Dipper fell back on his butt. The DJ backed away from him fearfully.

"Help!" Someone else shrieked. He realized it was Red making yet another reappearance. "Help! There's a bomb! He's a terrorist! Run!"

"What?" exclaimed Dipper. More teenagers had emerged from neighboring rooms to watch the scene unfold. "No! No, I'm not! I-I'm trying to save your lives!"

"That's what they all say!" Some guy screamed from the back of the room.

"No wonder he doesn't have any friends!" Another pointed out. "It's always those loner ones you have to watch out for!"

"I smell smoke!"

"Run! Run for your lives!"

Teenagers stampeded out the doors. Dipper ran to the front of the surround system's small raised platform and picked up a fallen microphone. "I'm not a terrorist!" he shouted after them. "I'm not a-a. Aw, fuck. Just everybody get out, okay? Run!"

When the last of the teenagers emptied out the doors, he turned and quickly began examining the stereo. His head pounded like a nail being hammered into the ground. There had to be something, maybe a back panel the bomb was hidden in. His nails scratched at a small electrical opening.

"Bravo, Dipper Pines." A voice spoke from behind him. He whirled around. Red was standing there, smirking coolly. "Seems you've found the surprise. Too late though. The trigger's already been pulled. Only a few minutes more until this pretty house is blown to pieces."

A sinking feeling pulled at his gut. The other demon's words came back to him. "And that's my cue." The song had already played.

He was too late.

Dipper viscously tore the panel off. Red clicked her tongue. "You could waste your time failing to disable that. Or you could go save your sister." She leaned in close, breathing down his neck. "You know she's not outside, right? Not when her little boyfriend is still bleeding upstairs."

Dipper's breath hitched in his throat. Oh, God. She didn't, she wouldn't…

She would. It was exactly what Mabel would do.

He stared at the glowing numbers on the bomb. Nearly five minutes left.

"Tick tock." Red taunted.

Dipper swung his elbow back into her chest and then spun around, trapping her against the wall by her throat. "Disable this, now!" he barked.

"You think I know how?" She laughed gleefully. "No way am I sticking around for this." The body went limp in his arms.

He couldn't help it; he slammed the girl's body against the wall with a furious shout. How much time did he have left now? Two, three minutes?

Mabel.

Dipper let the girl's body slide to the floor and ran. He barreled to the front of the house and up the staircase and nearly fell over stumbling into the bedroom he'd fought in earlier. This constant dizziness was starting to make him nauseous.

Mabel was kneeling by Trevor's broken body. Tears ran down her dirty face. "Dip, I-I don't think he's doin so hot."

"I…" Dipper's mouth ran dry. The other boy didn't appear to be moving at all. "Mabel, we don't have time. We have to go."

"But we can't-we can't just leave him."

"Let me see your grappling hook."

"No."

Dipper reached past her and tried wrestling the grappling hook out of her pocket. Even burned and broken, his sister's grip was firm. "He'll die!" she shouted.

"He's already dead!"

Truth was, he didn't know that for sure; Trevor could very well still be alive. But his sister mattered to him more than some kid he'd never even met until tonight. He wasn't proud of it, but his priorities weren't about to start changing now, not when Mabel looked about 3 seconds away from hitting the floor. If he had time, maybe, to find the bomb before and work at disabling it then things would be different, he could've saved this kid. But he didn't. He was stupid and fell for a trick and now this innocent guy was going to die and that girl downstairs was too and, yeah, this blood was on his hands.

In t-minus-

It made him sick to his stomach.

4.

Priorities.

3.

"Mabel, give me the god damn grappling hook now—"

2.

"No!"

1.

Did this make him a bad person?

.

.

.

He felt bad. Really, he did. He-

It was the loudest sound she had ever heard.

When she was younger, she had often wondered what it would be like to be closer to fireworks on the 4th of July. 'That's dumb,' an 8 year old Dipper had told her, waving a sparkler around like a wand. 'You're afraid of them. They'd just be louder up close'

'You don't know that.'

'Uh, yeah, I do. That's how sound works.'

'Well, I'm gonna prove you wrong.'

Needless to say when the mini explosions began cutting across the twilight sky, she had hid behind his back and watched through the safety of his neck and shoulder. She had been scared.

She imagined that this was what she was witnessing behind her as her brother swung them out the two-story window of Marcie O'Malley's home, a thousand fireworks being shot off into the night sky all at once, up close for her to hear.

And Mabel Catherine Pines was, indeed, terrified, just like he thought she would be.

Her grappling hook line didn't hold.

Fire melted its metal claws and left them at the mercy of gravity. They free fell most of the way down with the other chunks of burning debris. It wasn't a soft landing.

It was a quick fall, at least.

A single high note pierced her eardrums.

Dipper had taken the brunt of the fall, she knew. Now he was shielding her body with his own. The grass her nose was pressed into smelled like ash and springtime and she didn't think those things should go together.

Eventually he rolled away and collapsed in the grass beside her. Mabel stared up at the burning wreckage of Marcie O'Malley's home. It looked unrecognizable; a monstrous orange and yellow flame had come and devoured the fairytale home whole, and somewhere inside Trevor was being turned to dust with the rest of the hopeless dream. Her eyes stung. Against the night sky the waving flames were blinding to peer at.

Slowly she turned her head toward Dipper. Tears slid down the bridge of her nose. His clothes were smoking. He wasn't moving, but she could see a slight-slight-rise and fall to his chest. At least he was alive.

Mabel stretched her fingers out for his hand. Her hearing still hadn't returned and growing panic was waking her body up. Had her eardrums ruptured? Was this permanent? What if Dipper was trying to talk to her? She wouldn't be able to understand him.

He laced his fingers through hers and gave a gentle squeeze. She felt herself choke on a sob. He got it. Somehow, he got it.

Rising to her feet was like carrying the weight of the world. Her knees shook and the world spun all willy nilly around her. Pain radiated down her spine and nearly knocked her over again. She gave a great gasp she couldn't hear. Once again, her brother was there to catch her.

Leaning together, they slowly stumbled into the front yard. Mabel felt sound return, and with it sight, and feeling. She was convinced her body was on fire.

Pandemonium ruled the front of the O'Malley household. Teenagers were sprinting for their cars, phones locked to their ears, or just running through the yard and down the streets screaming. Red and blue lights flashed in the near distance.

Someone shoved her from behind. Mabel's hands flew out to keep her face from smacking the sidewalk. A thousand knives stabbed her right wrist. An agonized scream ripped its way past her burning throat.

Dipper was at her side in an instant. "What the hell is your problem?" he demanded.

Marcie appeared in her line of vision. Mascara was smudged around her eyes like she'd been crying. "You!" She shrieked, or Mabel thought she did. Noise was still muffled like a numb hand wrapped in a mitten. "This is all your fault!"

"Marcie, I-I'm so sorry—"

"Save it! You destroyed my house! I know it was you, you and your bastard brother!"

Mabel's voice wavered. "W-we didn't."

"Liar!"

"Can't you see that she's hurt?" Dipper interceded. "Why the hell would she hurt herself just to ruin your dumb party?"

Marcie rounded on him. The fire in her eyes burned hotter than her house. "A lot of people are hurt, Dipper, thanks to you two! Or have you not noticed everyone losing their fucking minds over there? I should sue! I could sue you for everything you have! Or have both of you sent to Juvi!"

Dipper looked beyond irritated. "Alright then, let's see the proof," he ground through his teeth. "Oh, that's right, you don't have any. Not enough to form a substantial court case. Not enough to warrant a lawyer."

Marcie stomped her foot. "WHATEVER!" She shrieked. "I know it was you two! You're freaks! You're both freaks and you always will be! Now get off my property now!"

Trembling arms helped Mabel up off the grass and led her as quickly as they could away from the scene, down the street. Dipper's breathes stirred the hair by her ear. He didn't say anything, and she was too stunned to form words. Mabel's computing process had reached capacity for the night and was retreating into shut down mode. Dipper steered her into a darkened alleyway briefly as police sirens whirred by, and then before Mabel knew it she was collapsing into the passenger seat of their parked car and staring unseeing through the dirty windshield.

Dipper had his head rested back against the seat. His eyes were closed. A heavy coating of soot covered his face and body. His knuckles were gray instead of white where they gripped the steering wheel.

He was the first to break the silence. "I never liked her. She always reminded me too much of Pacifica."

Mabel released a low whine through her teeth. She thought that she should be crying harder than this. Maybe she was. Maybe she just couldn't feel it.

"That was uncalled for," he continued, "What she said to you. She had no right—"

"Yes, she did," Mabel choked. "Everything that happened…that's all on us."

"This was never going to be a normal party, Mabel—"

"But we weren't supposed to burn her house down!" Mabel cried out. She coughed, her throat stinging. "We weren't supposed to get anyone hurt! Or-or—"Her face disappeared completely within the folds of her soft sweater and, as much as it hurt, like any movement did, she was glad to be hidden.

Because that was just it, wasn't it? It was never going to be a normal party. It was never going to be a normal night out. She had wanted to pretend for a night that she could just be a normal girl who went to normal weekend parties and had normal friends, but reality had charged in and crushed her dream, burned it and sprinkled the ashes on the ground.

They had chosen a life of mystery and danger when they were preteens, and at the time this had seemed fine, it was cool. She supposed sometimes it was still cool, training with weapons and all, but there was no off switch if she suddenly wanted to just go and hang out at the mall. The twins couldn't just go back. They knew about monsters and the monsters knew about them. They were never going to be normal, not when the supernatural was constantly on their tails. It was as plain and simple as that.

Dipper sighed. "Aw, Mabel. C'mon, don't go to Sweater Town…Its-It'll be okay."

Mabel squeezed her eyes shut against a sudden onslaught of tears. "Marcie is right, Dipper. We don't belong," her voice broke. "We are freaks."

Her brother remained silent, and she supposed, a sob rising and cresting in her chest, that he didn't have an argument for that.

Eventually he stuck the keys into the ignition and the car began to idle. He started driving and Mabel didn't care where they were going; home, the hospital, Gravity Falls…she just wanted to sleep.

I wanted to open this story with a bang, literally. I'm also sick of reading awesome adventure stories where Mabel is booted aside. This future fic is going to explore both Dipper and Mabel's characters as well as some other old familiar faces that will be making appearances soon enough.

I hope you guys enjoyed chapter 1! The chapters are probably all going to be about this length. I'm relatively new to this fandom, but this show has given me a lot of artistic inspiration. I have a lot of ideas and I'm really excited for you guys to see what's in store next!