Hi everyone! It's me again, and instead of being a normal person and work on the (counts on fingers) four or five stories I have out, I'll instead make a new one! Enjoy.

It was so cold. Too cold. That's my best way of explaining it. He did not know where he was, nor how He got there. He just woke up shivering, his memory's, floating fragments in his mind like a broken mirror in free fall. Sometimes, he could fit two together, but then it would simply float away. His mother, his father, all gone, swept up in the mid February airs embrace. He let out a feeble whine, one of fear, of loss, and of need.

Where's mommy? Was his only thought through the cold, over and over again. Where's mommy?

Another whine, another thought. And then, someone responded. Something inside his mind.

She's not coming. And with that, he's fate was sealed. Without his mother, how could he survive? He let out an animal like wail, one of pain and suffering and neglect. And someone heard his desperate plea.

"What's that?" Movement. Footsteps growing closer. Then stopping in front of him.

"A baby? Who would leave a baby in the dumpster in the middle of February!?" Hands, coming from nowhere, like gods divine embrace, lifted him from the cold and into the warmth. The boy snuggled against the man, as he began running, cuddling into his warmth. And as the world around him faded, a single word floated through his mind. One that would change both their life's for the better. Dada.

"Hello my names Tina, how may I help you?" The nurse was African-American. Or black. Whichever, but she isn't important.
"I found this baby outside in a dumpster," the man reached into his jacket and pulls the child out. He's fast asleep. The man took the time to study the boy.

He was large, more likely than not about two years of age. His hair was a golden blond, sleek and shiny, almost like metal. He yawned and opened his eyes.

They were one of the strangest things the man had ever seen, and that was saying something. Each was divided in half, the left a pale blue, and on the opposite half was one of bright green. His right had fiery red, and a deep blue.
"You found this boy?" The nurse questioned. The man gave her a "are you kidding me" look.

"Yes I did, I found him on 22 cherry lane, behind the flower shop."
"Okay, well, he doesn't seem in any immediate danger, I'll just have you fill out some forms while I get this little guy ready for the doctors," she reached forward, and wraps her hands around the child's abdomen. He whines slightly, but is too weak to resist.

What they didn't notice, is that while the man was studying him, he was studying the man. His hair was short and curly brown, like mud or bark. His face was childlike, but handsome at the same time. Donned on his head was a truckers cap, worn and losing most of its color, but had one identifying mark. A pine tree. That was all he saw, because the woman whisked him away, and he fell into the cool darknesses embrace once more.

The grumbling of his stomachs wakes him up. He lifts his head slowly, still stuff from his ordeal. A low moan escapes him, then a yawn. He was SSSSOOOO hungry. The baby looks around slowly, studying his surroundings. The walls where colored with horses and rainbows, just general kids stuff. The baby was in a crib, a purple one filled with stuffed animals. Another growl. There was a window on one wall, showing snow falling lightly outside in the metropolis that was Salt Lake City.

How do I know that? He asked himself. How do I know where I am but not who I am, or my parents? His belly rumbled again, more ferociously. As if on cue, the nurse Tina walks in with a bottle in hand.

"Here ya to big guy, you must be starving," she coos as she lifts the toddler out of bed and into a plastic chair in front of a -you guessed it- plastic table, about up to his head if he stood. She placed the bottle in front of him, and he reached forward and grabbed it.

"Smart little boy aren't cha?" She cuddled again. He gave her a dead look, then downed the drink in a few seconds, much to the nurses surprise and fear.

"NO! Don't drink to fast you'll get sick!" She said, snatching the bottle from him. She shook it, and found it was empty. She stare at it dumbly, and looked back at the boy. He was just sitting there, patiently waiting for another bottle, his expression blank.

"O-okay, I guess I'll get another bottle," she said nervously. She left and returned a few minutes later with another bottle. The cycle repeated, him chugging it, her getting another, so on and so forth, until his tenth bottle, which he finished with a loud burp. His expression was still dead as Tina quickly poked up the bottles.

"You need a name," she said, as she scooped up another bottle. They had falling to the floor in her hast to get more. (Rhyme not intended)

"How about, Jacob?" Silence.

"Marvin?" not even the sound of breathing.

"Charlie?" nothing.

"Donny?" Nada.

"Matt?" Now she's just wasting her breath.

"Colton?" Okay, NOW she's pushing her luck.

"Banana?" Banana!? Wha-why would you call a kid banana? How does that make sen- I don't even know!

"Macy?" WHAT!? Macy's a GIRLS name, where does she think it's okay to name a boy, oh my gosh I don't even, just, just wait a sec I gotta, *growl, then footsteps walking away and inaudible mumbling, footsteps returning* Girl needs to get out more, now where were we.

"Alright, we'll figure it out later," she finished, thank god. The boy stared at we through the naming, how he did I have no idea, but nonetheless, he was not thrilled with any of them, which I can understand, but, lets move on.

"Do you like to color little guy?" Tina asked, placing a piece of paper and crayons in front of him.

An image popped into the boy's mind, one that he HAD to draw. He snatched the packet of colored wax, his face contorting into one of concentration as he pulled out a black crayon, and began to draw.

His hand moved precisely, his motions near perfect, the skill of a surgeon able to cut between veins (Tina would know, she's seen it happen enough). After a few silent moments, filled only with the scrape of crayon on paper, he had finished.

Tina's breath left her. The picture was an exact replica of the man who brought him in.

Why would the boy draw that? She wondered, why him? The sound of rustling paper brought her back to reality. He was scraping it!

"What's wrong with this one?" Tina asked, picking the first one up from the floor. The boy didn't even give her a sideways glance, just redrew his picture.
Again and again he would draw him, and with every paper he used, another ended up on the floor. But then, he froze. He threw the black crayon -now nothing more than a snub- over his shoulder and grabbed the rest of the pack, pulling out pale oranges, blues, reds, and green. Then, he began to add detail. The earlier pictures where not worth coloring, not good enough. But this one was perfect. The boy smiled as his creation began taking shape. And then…he was finished.

There, in the boys own hands, crafted by the same two things, was an image of his savior. Light poured onto his head like liquid gold, his eyes were a bright hazel, so bright you could see it from space (that's what the little guy thought at least) the hat, old and grimy on his head, was given a new light in the image, looking better with age. The boy placed it down carefully, like it was the last bible on earth.

"Want to hang it up?" Tina asked quietly. Without missing a beat, the boy looked about for some tape. Once again, Tina vanished out the door, then came back with a tape roll. She picked up the picture and carefully taped it above the child's crib. She smiled at his awed expression. And that's where it ended.

No matter what she tried, he always gave her a blank stare when she spoke with him. Eventually, she gave up and went into the observation room.
"Where's that file?" She mumbled to herself as she looked through the one way mirror. The room was plain, dark, and only speakers and filling cabinets furnished the room.

"There you are!" Tina said excitedly, pulling out a file marked "Pines". She flicked to the beginning, and there was a picture of the man, hat and all.
"What a strange nickname, "Dipper Pines", well, this little guy would be dead without you. Maybe a little call will clear some things up," she said, as her hand reached for the phone on a nearby cabinet.

I hope you guys like it, the weirdness of Gravity falls will rear its head eventually, but now I'm going to do some character build first. Enjoy!