Alone

A Gravity Falls oneshot

Wendy stared at the clock in the corner of the gift shop, her eyes wide and expression alert. For once, she wished that the ticking would just go a little bit slower, for time to become as sluggish as it usually seemed. She wished that it wasn't so late, that the light outside was still bright and sunny. Clouds had rolled through earlier, making the sky an ominous gray as dusk set in on the sleepy mountain town.

Dipper had promised he would be back before the sun retreated from the sky. He said that the hunt he was currently on would surely take days, and that he only needed to take some notes on the position of whatever he was tracking. He said that he had no reason to stay out later, and that he would see his best friend as soon as he possibly could.

The lumberjack girl could hear some sort of piano music playing through the speakers of the gift shop, and raised her eyebrow. Stan must have gotten lazy again and just left a radio station to play, because he hated all kinds of orchestral stuff. It was a sad tune, buzzing from the badly made speakers in a way that made Wendy's ears hurt and yet tugged at her heartstrings simultaneously.

No one laughs at God in a hospital, no one laughs at God in a war. No one's laughing at God when they're starving or freezing or so very poor.

She groaned quietly to herself. Did he put on a gospel station by accident? However, the tune became slightly faster, and she found herself listening to the lyrics with slight interest and growing sadness.

No one laughs at God when a doctor calls after some routine tests. No one's laughing at God when it's gotten real late and their kid isn't back from the party yet.

Wendy felt an immense heaviness in her chest upon listening to the last line. Why was it that when something worrisome was happening, the song playing in the background always matched it somehow? However, the sound she had tuned herself into immediately became painful and quiet again as she heard the yell of her employer from upstairs.

"Wendy? Have you seen Dipper?"

"No, Mr. Pines!" she shouted back. "I was just about to go out and look for him!"

There was a brief silence from the second floor of the Shack before she heard the raspy voice again. "You do that, then!" he replied. "That kid never stays out late unless checking with me first!"

The teen nodded and sprinted out the exit to the gift shop, speeding into the forest behind the disheveled tourist trap. Though she would never admit it, her heart was pounding harder now, sending adrenaline through her veins painfully. She was running without much effort, not even slowing down when she tripped over roots and branches in the woods. The lumberjack girl almost felt ashamed. She had gone from anxious and worried to frantic in a matter of seconds, and only because her boss had told her to go out and look.

As she increased her speed, a large cloud passed over where the sun had set and shut out the last ray of light. Slowly it dawned on her that the small boy couldn't have lost track of time with the bright of day gone now. Horrible images of him lying bloody and abandoned flashed through her mind, and she bit her lip as tears pricked her eyes. She needed to find him. If she didn't find him, she didn't know what she would do with herself.

Suddenly, she stopped. The lumberjack had heard a tiny sound, almost inaudible in the muted birdsong and wind. It sounded like the cry of a child. Her heart beat faster, and she found herself screaming her friend's name in panic as she stumbled and crashed through the woods. "Dipper! Dipper! Where are you?! Dipper!"

However, the darkening woods gave no sign that she had been heard. Through the endless thoughts rushing through her head, Wendy wondered if she had gone in the wrong direction until she heard the weak coughing and wailing again, this time louder. "Dipper!" she screeched, feeling wet warmth on her cheeks as the tears finally broke free. She tripped over a fallen log in her haste to find the source of the sound, but gave no sign she felt pain even as blood trickled down her ankle.

Abruptly, a pained shriek rang through the forest. Wendy's blood turned to ice as she realized the awful sound was made by her co-worker. She ran as fast as she could, the air catching in her throat when she finally reached the clearing where the dreadful noises were coming from. She resisted the urge to vomit.

Dipper hung tangled and torn apart in what looked like an extended barbed wire fence. Both fresh and clotted blood coated the rusty metal as well as her best friend's mangled skin. His arm was bent at a nauseating angle, and as for his back… Oh gosh, she didn't even want to look at it anymore. It was a curse that he was still alive.

A thin wail tore apart the air as the bloody form of her friend fought for freedom, though stopping the struggle after a few seconds with a squeak of agony. Her heart felt as though it were ripping to shreds. He shouldn't be living. Nobody should ever have to be in such a painful position. "Dipper," she found herself whispering, knowing he could still hear her.

The terrible mess of a boy slowly turned his head, glazed eyes widening when he spotted his friend. "Wendy?" he choked out, blood dripping down his chin. "Why… are you… here?"

A sob fought its way out of Wendy's lungs and she realized she was truly crying now. "Dipper, what happened?!" she gasped, rushing forward. However, the boy gave a quiet groan and raised his hand, as though begging his friend not to get any closer.

"I… chasing…" he started, coughing feebly. "Thing… ran… through… I… got… caught… no… escape…"

"Stop," she found herself commanding the boy, her voice shaking. "Dipper, I'm going to get you down-"

"No!" the young detective cried, silencing his friend instantly. As soon as he had said it, a pained and miserable expression overcame his face, and he hung his head. The lumberjack flinched as she heard the bones in his back making a clacking noise with the motion. "You'll… get… too…"

"I'm not just going to leave you up there!" Wendy called, her voice taking on a pleading tone. "Just- just hold still!"

The boy hanging from his barbed prison said nothing more, simply taking in a deep breath with much effort and letting it out again. Shards of grief pierced the teen's heart when she heard him quietly crying, the tears mixing with the horrible amount of blood on his face and trickling down the wires holding him captive. However, Wendy did not hesitate before starting to climb one of the trees supporting the fence and pulling out her axe. The weapon slashed through the rusty metal easily.

A few angry, quivering cuts and Dipper slumped to the ground lifelessly. Wendy stuck the axe back into her belt and jumped down, kneeling by her friend's side. He seemed even more torn apart when the lumberjack saw him up close. There was bone sticking out of his injured arm, the skin and blood clotted around it like torn fabric.

"It… hurts…" Dipper rasped, his voice barely audible. Wendy didn't say a word, but held the poor boy up to her chest and let out a deep, shivering breath. He already reeked of infected flesh and that raw, bloody smell that really didn't have a name. This didn't stop her from hugging him, her silent sobs echoing through the night woods.

"I'm going to get you home," she breathed, vowing despite knowing that there was a very slim chance of him even getting back to the Shack alive. He seemed to know this as air caught in his throat, his ability to speak gone. Wendy wrapped her arms tightly around her friend's midsection and tried to lift him up without damaging his back more. She hauled him into her arms, the way she would carry a wounded animal, and started to trek back through the woods.

They weren't even halfway there when Dipper stopped breathing.

A/N: Pervy/Montydragon here. I wanted to write something angsty, and I spent like half my day yesterday listening to Regina Spektor songs, so I thought, why not kill Dipper?

God, I'm so evil.

Song at the beginning is Laughing With by Regina Spektor. I don't own anybody.