Gravity Falls: Transcendence AU

“Mallory, please, can you just calm down for a second?”

“I’m calm! I’m soooo calm, you’re the one who-”

Dipper cut in. “Ha-hang on,” he stammered, gesturing at Marsh’s car. “Marsh is here already? Where is she?”

Something flickered in Mal’s eyes. “Uh…” she started, then cleared her throat. “Oh, she went on ahead. Got sick of waiting for you, I guess.”

“She-! and you didn’t go with her?!”

“I was waiting for you!”

“What? You could’ve texted me! What if she gets into trouble in there?”

“Oh my god, you’re just as bad as Mom. She’s fine.”

“You don’t know that!” Dipper gazed into the forest, at the shady path ahead that disappeared behind the beckoning trees. “We need to go after her.”

“Wh…” Behind them, their Mom frowned. “You seem really concerned about this, sweetie. What’s going on in the forest?”

“Nothing,” Mal rolled her eyes. “He’s just being paranoid. Wonder where he gets that from.”

Dipper made a face. “It’s… I-I don’t know, it could be nothing. But… we think there might be some clues in there about who-” He glanced at Mal, who arched an eyebrow. “Uh, about who killed Gemma.”

Their Mom just stared for a moment. Her eyes slowly lifted to the forest. “Just so I understand,” she said, quietly, carefully. “what you’re saying, sweetie, is there’s a chance she’ll encounter a murderer in that forest.”

“I don’t-” Dipper started, and then sighed. “Maybe. I don’t know, it’s hard to say.”

“Okay.” Slowly, she turned that iron stare onto Mal, and even she wilted under it. “So. You were also aware of this, I assume.”

“I-”

“And you let her do what?”

“Wh-, I-!” Mal stammered over her words. “Marsh wanted to go on ahead, that’s not my fault! What was I supposed to do?”

“You tell her no! I mean, for star’s stake, Mallory, show a little backbone! I never thought you'd be the one I'd need to say that too!”

“Yeah!” Dipper said, then blinked. “Wait, what?”

“It's not my-”

“Don't. Please, don't try that with me right now.” Their Mom rubbed her forehead. “Mallory, I love you so much, but I have to say, I am getting sick and tired of hearing that from you lately! Nothing's your fault, nothing’s ever your fault!”

“I never said that! Tell me when I ever said ‘nothing's ever my fault’, that's ridiculous!”

“You-!” She stopped, pursed her lips. “Okay. Okay, Mallory.”

Then she turned back to her car. Mal, fists clenched, face flushed, followed her.

“Okay what? Are you gonna apologise?”

“Yes, I'm sorry. Now can we put this behind us for now?” Their Mom opened the trunk. “We've got to get that poor girl out of the forest. Here, take this.”

Then she tossed something Mal’s way. Dipper came closer, and she handed one to him as well… some sort of bracelet? He wasn’t sure what to make of it; the chain was fine and silvery, but the pendant was a spud of little white flowers wound together with twine in a tight pattern. It was oddly clashing, and it’d have looked amateurish if it wasn’t so well constructed.

Dipper glanced towards Mal, and he could see the question in her eyes. “Is this a charm?” She said, and Dipper could see their Mom hesitate. “Did you make this?”

“It’s just a bit of wild garlic and silver.” She said, vaguely. “I heard it was a vampire on the news–anyway, are we ready?”

Mal opened her mouth… then seemed to think better of it. “Yeah, uh, actually, before we go, I-I got something as well.” Digging in her pocket, she drew out a blue glass charm with a loop of red ribbon, paused, and thrust it out to Dipper. “Here.”

His eyes went wide. “Is that–wait, is that my magic blocker necklace? You finally made another one?”

“What do you mean, finally?”

“Uh-” A quick glance up at Mal. “I mean, oh my god, thank you so much, you’re the best! This is amazing, I’ve been so sick of these headaches!”

With a big grin on his face, he snatched it up and looped it around his neck. Before he’d even tied the knot, he felt his headache start to spike.

eeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE–pop!

Dipper blinked, shook his head as the pain faded. When he looked down… the glass charm had shattered into glittering pieces on his shirt.

He didn’t even have time to be disappointed.

“Oh, for fuck’s-!” Mal threw up her hands. “Great. Great! You broke it, genius! Why not? Everything’s going so well today, huh!”

“I didn’t do anything! I-I just put it on.”

Their Mom frowned. “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie, that’s really disappointing.”

“Disappointing to him?! What about me? I worked on that stupid thing for-” She cut herself off. “Ugh, whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

“Mal?”

“I said, whatever! Are we going into the forest or not?”

“Hmph.” Their Mom took a second to nod. “You’re right. Come on; let’s stick together, you two.”

And she began to lead them into the forest, glancing back every few steps. Dipper didn’t think Mal would follow at first, but she kept pace with him, her arms crossed, her head firmly turned away. His hand brushed the red ribbon, and he sighed.

“Hey,” he started. “Thanks for… I really appreciate you tried to make another one. I know it’s not easy.”

She didn’t respond. He paused, and tried again.

“It, uh… it took you a few tries on the last one, right? I’m sure you’ll get it!”

He tried to reach out a hand, but she sped up to avoid him. Dipper sighed… then, looking at the trees closing in, tried to put it out of mind. That wasn’t important right now; he had to keep an eye out for Marsh. She was probably just at the cabin, but… well, you never know.

Mal, though, hadn’t got the message. She fell into step with their Mom, and shot her a Look. For a little while their Mom politely ignored the daggers being thrown her way… but then she let out a groan.

“Okay, Mallory, what’s wrong now?”

“Oh, nothing,” and as soon as their Mom met her gaze she was aloof, staring off into the trees. “Just, uh… just wondering–just thinking, you know? Just thinking about what I heard earlier, ah, something about a book?”

“A book?”

“Yeah! You and Dipper were on about some kind of book.” Their Mom didn’t react, but Mal caught Dipper’s flinch. “Yeah, look, he’s heard about it! What’s going on, huh?”

She took a moment to reply, “Mallory,” she started carefully, glancing around the forest. “I can tell you later, but I really don’t think this is the time. We have to find your friend; aren’t you worried about her?”

“Oh my gooood, she’s fine! You think we’re actually stupid enough to walk into a forest with a murderer?” Mal glanced back at Dipper with a strange smirk. “Actually, scratch that. But hey, you’re obviously not that worried if you’re letting us tail along.”

“Of course I’m-!” Dipper saw her hands clench, then struggle to straighten out. “I’m very worried right now, Mallory, and I’m trying to concentrate! I don’t want you kids playing detective with an actual murderer! I just also know that if I told you to stay in the parking lot, you’d go right in after me. I’ve been your mother for almost twenty years now, Mallory, I know how this works.”

“Wh- why are you singling me out?!”

Dipper rubbed his forehead. “Guys, guys, can we please not fight the whole way to the cabin? Look, Mal’s right, we both planned it; it’s not fair to put it on her.”

“Thank you, Dipper.” Mal raised her eyebrows at her Mom. “See, he agrees with me!”

“Well-”

“I’m not the one starting anything, I’m just asking questions. Like, what about this book, huh?” She looked back at Dipper. “How about you, bro? Are you gonna tell me anything?”

“I… uh…”

“Mallory!” Their Mom snapped. “I promise you, I will tell you later! I don’t-” Her voice seemed to lower by instinct. “I don’t want to talk about it in public.”

But that was a mistake; Dipper could see how Mal immediately switched from grumpy pot-stirring to genuine interest. “In public, what?” She gave a little chuckle that faded out as their Mom didn’t meet her eyes. “Wait, what’s… is something going on? Is Dad okay?”

“Wh- no, it’s nothing to do with… your father’s fine.”

“Then, I-I don’t understand what you’re talking about. You’re actually keeping something from me?”

You could cut the tension with a knife; Dipper glanced between the two of them, then all around the looming forest. He made a face.

“Well,” he mumbled. “Seems like this is your private moment.”

Their Mom slowed to a stop. Mal didn’t even make a snarky comment as she seemed to collect her thoughts, take a deep breath, and let it out in a sigh.

“I wanted this to be a little more planned out,” she said. “Your father and I–this doesn’t change anything, okay? We both love you so much, and we only want the best for-”

“You’re getting divorced?!”

“Wh- no, Mallory! Of course not!”

“Okay, okay, jeez!” She scowled at Dipper’s muffled snort. “Hey, I’m not the crazy one here, what the hell was I supposed to take from ‘your father and I still love you?’ Fuuck, Mom, don’t scare me like that!”

“Oh, my stars.” Their Mom pinched her forehead. “This went so much better in the car… Look, Mallory, we used to… a long time ago, we were in… you have to understand-”

“And now you’re sounding like you used to be in a cult or something.” She rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Mom, you gotta work on your messaging.”

It took a moment. Mallory looked from her mother’s stricken face to Dipper’s nervous smile, and the penny finally dropped.

“No way,” she breathed, and watched her Mom give a timid nod. “Wh- no way, no–you’re joking. You’re joking!”

“No. We used to… we used to be in the Circle. But it was a long-”

“The Circle?!” She backed up, stumbling over a twig. “Wh- Alcor? No way, no way, no way!”

“Mallory-”

“I don’t- you can’t- I would’ve known this, I would’ve known this!” Then she froze, her eyes going wide. “The book. That’s why you had a-”

Then she cut herself off–but it was too late. She glanced up at her mother’s shocked face, and tried for a shaky smile.

“I-I mean,” and the blood was draining from her face; her hands were wringing together. “I-I just meant-”

“You knew about the book?” Their mom glanced at Dipper. “Did you tell her?”

“No! I didn’t, I had no idea until last night.” He blinked at Mallory. “How long have you known?”

Mallory was backed up against a tree; she could only shrug. “I- I don’t–why are you guys acting like I knew? I’m just, I’m just finding out now! You had a what?”

“Mallory, come on.”

“I’m serious, guys! I had no idea, I…” One look at their faces, and she grimaced, put up her hands, and changed tack. “Okay, fine! I-I did see it once. It was back when I was a stupid teenager, I dug through your guys’ stuff one day, and, yeah. But I didn’t think anything of it.”

“You didn’t think anything of it?” Dipper raised an eyebrow. “You found an illegal demonology book, and you were just like… okay? No follow up questions?”

“Well-”

“It hadn’t been moved at all,” their Mom breathed. “You put it back exactly where we left it.”

“Yeah, that’s- you know what I was like as a teenager, I liked getting away with stuff.” Her smile strained. “I-I knew it was a big deal, that’s why I put it back where I found it! Then I… I just kind of forgot about it, I guess.”

“Forgot about it?”

“Yeah, I-I… look, it doesn’t matter right now!” She sidled away from the tree and started down the path again. “We gotta find Marsh, guys! Isn’t that what we came here for?”

Dipper blinked; he exchanged a wide-eyed look with his Mom, then rushed to catch up. “Hey, Mal, wait, you wanted to talk about this!”

“Yeah, well, we’re nearly at the cabin, so-”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the-”

“I don’t know, Dipper, I don’t know!” She rounded on him. “Maybe I’m better at leaving shit alone. Maybe I’m stupid and I couldn’t put two and two together; I mean you just needed one night to realise Mom and Dad are secret demon summoners, it’s sooo obvious! I’m sorry I’m not as smart as you!”

“I didn’t say you were…” Dipper hesitated, took a deep breath, and pressed on. “Why do you always act like I-I’m calling you stupid? I didn’t say that, Mal, I’ve never said that! I’m trying to see if you’re okay!”

“Ohhh, Mr Thoughtful.”

“I mean, it was really shocking to me, too, can’t we talk about it?” He slowed as she kept walking. “Why can’t we just talk anymore, Mal? Why can’t you just stop for once and actually talk to me like a real person!”

And Mal stopped, dead. Dipper could feel his heart beating in his throat as she stood there, his words echoing too loud, too real. He didn’t know when it’d started, but talking to her… somewhere along the way it’d become like walking in a minefield, nodding along and smiling and pretending he wasn’t always, always looking out for the next bomb to trip up on.

That wasn’t the way he wanted it to be. He used to love talking to her, he used to love… He didn’t know if they could go back to how things were before.

He wanted to, he wanted to so bad, but she was turning around now, and he was terrified he was about to get that answer.

Dipper looked at his sister. She tried to look back, tried to stare him down defiantly, but it was her gaze, for once, that slid to his shoes.

The forest was silent as she took a breath.

“Dipper-”

But she couldn’t finish. A flinch, and she turned her head to the side.

Mal picked up something on the hood of the hearse, and Marsh leaned over. “Show me what? Is that one of your glass things?”

“Glass charms, yeah!” Holding it up, Mal let it catch the light and glimmer. “I just thought, you know, it might be a little dangerous in the forest, so I could make something to help!”

“Okaay?”

“This little guy’s a pretty beefy Sight charm–put it on, and you should be able to see if a gnome so much as sniffles in your line of sight!” At Marsh’s arched eyebrow, she added: “You know how that Collins guy hid in your house, right? If you’d had this thing on, you’d’ve spotted him in a heartbeat.”

That got her attention; Mal held it out, and she took it, turned it over, inspected it. “How do you know it works?”

“I test ‘em, obviously. I made one of those invisibility doodads myself; it completely negated the effect.” Mal gave a winning smile. “Trust me, Khades, nothing’s gonna sneak up on you with this thing.”

“Hm.” She paused for a moment… and then began looping the red ribbon around her wrist. “Thanks, Mal. This could actually be really- whoa!”

She pointed to something in the treeline; Mal turned, and saw nothing. “What is it?”

“Some kind of… big butterfly, like a spirit, or something!” Marsh looked around her with an air of open wonder. Her pupils seemed just the tiniest bit greyed, Mal noticed. “And the sky looks a little different too… Wow. I can see why people are jealous of the Sight, now. That’s amazing.”

Mal tried to hold back a little smirk–sheesh Ianitor, she thought, dial back the special effects, will you?

A chuckle answered her thoughts. “Aww, little murderer, let me have some fun! Your friend’s certainly not complaining… not y̵e̵t̷̬͝.”

Mal glanced to the side. He’s not to hurt her, or Dipper, remember? They’re just gonna walk in the forest, hallucinate up some evidence, and spend the rest of the investigation chasing their own shadows until they gave up on the whole thing.

“Yes, yes, I remember our deal.” Ianitor patted her shoulder. “Quite a masterstroke of a plan–I wish I’d come up with something so diabolical! Shall I get started on this one while you wait for your brother?”

That didn’t sound like a good idea… but suddenly Marsh turned her head. “Oh, there you are!” She said to thin air. “You snuck up on me, Dipper. Alright, are we ready to go?”

“Hang on,” Mal started, but Marsh looked straight at her with those grey eyes, nodded, and turned to walk into the forest.

“Alright,” Marsh was saying. “Let’s stay together now, guys…”

“Hey!” Mal stepped forwards, but a hand caught her shoulder. “What the hell, this isn’t the plan! We’re supposed to go in together!”

“Really? Well, you should’ve mentioned that in the deal,” said Ianitor. “Ah, but don’t worry about her, she’ll be just fine! You know what you should worry about?”

“What?”

“The book.”

Mal blinked. “Wh… what book?”

“I don’t know. I just overheard Dipper and your mother talking about it–it sounded important, I wonder why they’re keeping it from you?” Ianitor spoke like he was holding back a laugh. “You should ask him about it when he gets here.”

“I…”

“Come, relax, sit down,” the demon said, as Marsh disappeared into the trees behind her. “It won’t be too much longer, now.”

________________________________________________________________

Dipper didn’t know when to start the conversation. It seemed a little awkward to launch into it while she was turning out of the driveway, but now they were stopped at an intersection and he wondered whether this was more of a highway conversation.

Glancing out the window, he noticed a truck next to them, two guys sitting and chatting in front. Odds are they weren’t having to talk about demon summoning, he thought. Lucky.

“So,” thankfully, his Mom broached the topic first. “About the, uh, the book. Is it in…?”

“It’s in my room.”

“Oh, good. Good. Phew, haha.” She flashed him a nervous smile before the lights went green. “Wouldn’t be good to lose that!”

“Uh, no,” He raised an eyebrow. “Where did you even get something like that?”

“We’ve always had it, actually. It’s been passed down the family for generations; the original builder of the funeral home bought it, or at least that’s how the story goes.”

Dipper crossed his arms. “Oh, so it’s a super illegal heirloom, that’s sooo much better.”

“Dipper-”

“I’m sorry, I’m just-! I’m still trying to process this. I never once heard you guys talk about demons, but now this is like a whole family thing? I don’t-” A horrible thought hit him. “Wait. That gas leak in the crematory before I was born, that wasn’t-”

“That wasn’t Alcor.” His Mom’s voice turned hard. “It’s not related, I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Mom-”

“It was a horrible accident.” Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Horrible day, I-I don’t- Bad things happen to good people, they just do, it-it doesn’t matter what y-you do or who you worship!” A blink. “I mean-”

“Worship?”

“I didn’t- I just mean, it’s true, i-isn’t it? Bad things can happen to everyone, I was just-”

“Oh, my god,” Dipper gazed at his Mom like a whole new person. “You guys don’t just summon demons, do you?”

“Sweetie, let’s just slow down-”

“You worship them! Like, proper cult style! You do, don’t you!”

His Mom didn’t reply straight away, but the corner of her mouth twitched a bit. “You don’t generally worship demons,” she said, eventually. “It’s a much better idea to pick one.”

“Oh my god.”

“Outside of California, the Circle is actually a very reputable-”

“Oh my god, the Circle? The, the ‘Dreamer’s Star’ nuts?” Dipper ran his hands through his hair. “You know why that is, right? Like, maybe they wouldn’t be illegal if they didn’t follow the guy who literally blew up California, right?”

“Dipper-”

“Like a hundred-something million people, I don’t remember the- there was a whole, like, Los Angeles, we heard about it over and over again in school.”

“Yes, that is how it’s taught.” His Mom’s lip twisted down. “And I wonder if they mentioned that there was actually another demon-”

“Are you defending him right now?!”

“I’m just-, I know it’s going to sound…! Well, it was in His wisdom that you two didn’t grow up in the Circle, so I just have to trust that He doesn’t need my defense.”

It was so, so weird to hear his Mom talk like that; eugh, he could hear the capitals. As they turned onto the highway, he sank into his seat. “So what, we weren’t supposed to hear about this? Why?”

She opened her mouth, closed it, and made a face. “I… it’s a long story, sweetie.”

“We’ve got time.”

“Yes, well… it’s not a pleasant memory.” A hard swallow. “It happened when you were both born. We… I-it took a long time for us to have children, a-and when we… you were both born very early, very early.” She stretched out trembling fingers. “Twenty-three weeks, she was the size of my hand.”

Dipper didn’t say anything, but the pit in his stomach was growing.

“A-anyway, it wasn’t… she was going to…” Her jaw tightened, her eyes locked forwards. “We needed a miracle… and it came, He answered us!”

“You made a deal.”

“Yes, and look at you, look at Mallory!” Her smile was warm and watery. “You’re okay. I forget, it’s… it’s one of my favourite stories, actually. I’m so glad I was finally able to tell it to you.”

“But,” he shook his head. “What did you make a deal for?”

“Well… I don’t remember.”

“How do you not-”

“That was one of the stipulations,” she said. “And we couldn’t raise you two in the Circle, either. He was very firm on that, and so we didn’t; we stopped going to gatherings, we got rid of our robes, our books. That one you saw was the only one we kept, I… couldn’t bear to part with that one.” She gave a wistful sort of smile. “It’s been in our family so long. I-I thought, if you’d ever found your way to the Circle on your own, I’d have something to give you. But only if you did it on your own, I never would’ve broken my promise.”

“Hmph.” Dipper shifted in his seat. “Good job on that.”

“Yes, yes, I’m not, ah, thrilled with your father about last night.” Her eyebrows raised. “Almost twenty years, and he just has it all out in the middle of the… what’s done is done, he just wanted to help.” And she cast him a side glance. “I’m guessing I can’t convince you to keep this from Mallory, can I.”

“Are you kidding? I think she would literally kill me.”

“Hah, I, uh… that’s my problem, I guess.” A pause. “Look, sweetie, I’m sorry, I know this is probably a big shock, to say the least. But we haven’t… nothing has to change, okay? Your father and I aren’t different people than we were yesterday, we still love you and we only want the best for you. We left that life behind a long time ago for you and Mallory, and we’d do it again every time. Every time.”

Those words warmed him a little, but he couldn’t help but ask: “Well, you didn’t give it up completely, did you?”

“Hmph, no. Just like you two haven’t completely given up on running around trying to find a dangerous murderer.” She pursed her lips. “I’m quite interested, for instance, that this ‘Marsh’s house’ appears to be a parking lot next to a forest.”

“Mom-”

“We’re worried about you two, okay! You just don’t talk to us!”

“So you summoned a demon about it?”

“So we were potentially planning to see if we could contact him again,” she spoke very carefully. “Just something small! Just to keep you two from getting hurt, you wouldn’t even have seen Him!”

“Oh, great, yeah, wonderful.” He shook his head. “God, why Alcor, again? Like of all demons, that guy?”

She snorted. “‘Of all demons?’ Do you have a better one in mind?”

“Well, no, just… he’s literally the California guy.” Dipper crossed his arms. “Didn’t our whole funeral home start as a staging ground for all the casualties from that? I don’t get why this is some big family tradition.”

He expected his Mom to have something to say to that… but she was silent. When he looked over, he saw she was looking at her back mirror with a strange expression; seemingly blank, but there was something turning over in her mind.

“Mom?” And instead of looking over, she just kept staring, oddly rigid. “Us, I was saying-”

“I know, I heard- I’d love to tell you the story, but…” she motioned with her head a little. “Don’t look back, but that white car’s been behind us since we got on the highway.”

It took Dipper a couple seconds to process the implications. He immediately glanced back and saw a little sedan with tinted windows. “That one? What’s-”

“I just said don’t look back!”

“Sorry,” he sank into his seat, heart beating. “Maybe they’re just going the same way we’re going?”

“Hmph. They’d have passed us by now; I’ve been driving like an old lady trying to explain this to you.” There was an eerie calmness to the way she flicked her blinkers. “This’ll prove it.”

They were moving onto the exit lane; Dipper couldn’t help but glance in the mirrors and see the white car do the same. “Wh- they are following us!”

“Not very well. Don’t worry, sweetie, I’ll get rid of them.”

“Get- what? How?”

But she didn’t respond, so he was only left to hold on. The exit lane was starting to diverge; Dipper saw the white car follow them as they began curving away–but then! With a jerk of the wheel, her Mom cut across the growing shoulder. A chorus of beeps came from behind, but Dipper’s eyes were only on the white car; he saw it actually swerve for a moment like it wanted to follow… but then it seemed to reconsider, and it stayed the path, sweeping away from them.

Before a line of trees cut them off, Dipper thought he saw something in the window. But it was gone so quick, and then he was left to reckon with what on earth his Mom had just pulled off.

“Oh, dear,” she said so mildly; her shoulders had gone up again, and she gave a timid wave to the car flipping her off in the passing lane. “Sorry, sorry! I really don’t like doing that.”

“Um. Okay, so can we talk about that?” He blinked at her. “You just lost that car like it’s nothing!”

She couldn’t hold back a little smirk. “Dipper, sweetie. In your words, I’m in an 'illegal cult'. That’s not the first time someone’s tailed me to a gathering.” She glanced out of the window. “I’m not sure who that was, though. The police are a little more subtle–back in the day, anyway.”

Dipper wasn’t quite ready to move on. “Oh. Cool. Cool cool cool, this is- you guys got mad at Mal for shoplifting!”

“Of course we did, we’re her parents.” She flicked on the blinker again. “Oh, here’s our exit! Well, now I’ve bared my soul to you, I can’t wait to see what trouble you kids have been getting up to.”

A thought hit him. “Oh, no,” he groaned, and slumped in his seat. “Mal’s gonna kill me for bringing you along.”

“Well, the way it’s looking, she’s going to kill both of us.” His Mom shot him a meaningful smile. “I know I can’t ask you to keep this under wraps forever. But maybe this can wait until a better moment?”

“A better moment?”

“Hm.” She took a moment to think over her words. “Well, a more private moment. Can you do that for me?”

They turned a corner, and Dipper saw the parking lot come into view–the hearse loomed, and he couldn’t help but gulp.

It was the only thing that fit the evidence. Lucy Ann killed Gemma, and… and tomorrow, they were going to see what all these codes had been pointing towards.

A scowl. Tomorrow, he thought, and tried to close his eyes; in no time at all, they were staring up at the ceiling again. And his pillow was too warm, and he was sweating under his covers but cold when he pushed them off–agh, fine! Fine, he was up!

Maybe he’d get a water or something.

Casting a glare at the stars outside his window, he felt his way to the door, creaked down the hallway, and started downstairs.

He didn’t get far before he paused. A sound downstairs: some kind of rustling? At first he thought it was coming from the funeral home… but no, definitely from the living room.

As it kept going, his grip tightened on the railing. It could be Mal, and man, was it mean that every fibre of his being suddenly wanted to go back to bed? Come on, Dipper, don’t be like that. She’s having a hard time, she needs you.

She needs you.

…

But his feet just didn’t move. The harder he tried, the more frozen he felt. The more he could feel his heart pounding in his chest, faster and harder until with a sigh, he gave up on it. Fine, he thought, taking a step back up. He’d just-

The person downstairs cleared their throat, and that was not Mal. Dipper blinked; curious now, it was suddenly all too easy to rush downstairs, throw open the door, and find-

“Oh!” Dipper gave an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Dad! Didn’t mean to surprise you, I was just like, who’s downstairs right now? But it’s just you, haha.”

And he did feel bad; his Dad, kitted out in his nightgown and sleeping cap on the sofa, had jolted half-up and dropped a book with a thump on the carpet.

“Uh, sorry. Again.” He saw his Dad struggling to reach down, and moved forwards. “I can-”

“Don’t!” He held an arm out. “Dondundundun- I- don’t, don’t! Don’t!”

“Oh, uh, okay? You sure you don’t want-”

“Don’t! Don’t, I- don’t! Don’t!”

He was more animated than Dipper had seen in a while, waving him off with big jerky swings of his arms. Dipper certainly got the message.

“Whoa, no worries, Dad, it’s fine!” He pointed to the kitchen. “I’m just, uh, going to get some water. Do you want some?”

He shook his head and kept reaching for the book. Dipper lingered for a moment longer, guilt needling as he watched his Dad struggle to lift it, then crossed into the kitchen. The oven read 4am in glowing red letters; it was off by a couple hours–he forgot how many–but it was definitely very late.

“I didn’t think you’d be up!” He called into the living room as he got a glass down. “I, uh, I couldn’t sleep, hah. Is that the same for you?”

He got a grunt in reply. Filling up his glass, Dipper wondered whether to ask again; his Mom and Mal, it felt like they could ‘read’ him so much better than Dipper–another pang, because of course they could, they’d been the ones actually looking after him, while he’d been off… well, these days it wasn’t even clear what he’d been doing. Not making friends, that’s for sure.

“Uh, yeah, great,” he continued. “That’s… yeah. Great. Did you want-? Oh, right, you’d said no.”

Water in hand, Dipper made his way back to the living room. His Dad was scraping papers into a binder; must be some funeral home stuff he was trying to work on.

“You don’t have to stop.” He pointed upstairs. “I was gonna go back to my room, or… I could help if you needed? What do you-”

“Done! All done, all done.” His Dad stood up abruptly, the binder clasped to his chest. He limped his way past Dipper with a, “All done, all, all done, and all done. All done, all…”

And then he was gone; Dipper could hear the handle going for a bit before the door creaked open and slammed shut.

“Alright,” he muttered to himself. “Nice to see you, too, Dad. Good… good talk.”

Man, he should make more of an effort. Months, and it was still… he wasn’t used to this version of his Dad. It used to be, you couldn’t be in the same room as Ronald Quicksilver without hearing his opinion on anything and everything that came up; sometimes he did his homework in the living room so his Dad would walk over and backseat-drive him into all the right answers. But not when he was learning to drive–no, the backseating got a lot more literal and a lot less wanted there.

The memory made him chuckle, but it quickly tapered into a sigh. He seemed happy enough with Mom and Mal, but Dipper could see it every time a customer looked him over… no, be honest. He got that look, too, that moment when he just didn’t get what his Dad was saying, and his Dad… his Dad stopped trying. And once he got his necklace fixed, he was just gonna go right back to college, right back to talking with his Mom on the phone and hearing how Dad’s doing, what Dad’s doing.

Was that how it was gonna be now? No. No, he wanted to talk to his Dad again!

Standing there with a glass of water warming in his hand, Dipper resolved that he was gonna do better on this… as soon as he’d gotten to the bottom of who killed Gemma, and how to make Mal feel better. Oh, and what was going on with Lucy Ann, and also getting his medication sorted and getting back on track with his classes, and–look, it was a priority! It was just that a lot of things were priorities right now.

A yawn was building in his throat–speaking of priorities.

As he turned to leave, though, something caught his eye. At first he thought it was something shiny under the couch, but when he glanced back, he realised it was more of a glow, something–and his stomach twisted–not quite of this reality. It was like the shapes he saw when he pulled up at Gemma’s house, when he saw through the walls to find-

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…

With a shudder, Dipper pulled his thoughts back. Setting his water down on the counter, he kneeled down, hesitated, and then stuck a hand into the darkness. It didn’t take him long to feel something hard and square and leathery–a book? Was this the one his Dad had dropped, and… not picked up, but shoved under the couch for some reason? Why’d he do that?

Frowning, he drew it out. It was a heavy thing, definitely closer to a textbook than anything else, and it shed pages and post-its as he lifted it into his lap. Its spine was broken at a page near the middle; he turned to it and saw-

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

Dipper had to physically cover his eyes, because oh my god that was Alcor’s summoning circle oh my god what kind of book is this? Only once his head had stopped buzzing and his knees had managed to slam the book closed did he dare to look again; his shaking hands traced the edges of uneven, yellowed pages, and then flipped the whole thing back to the cover. The title was dulled with age and hard to read, but he caught a bit of moonlight, and there he saw, as damning as a bloody dagger:

 AN INTRODUCTION TO DEMONOLOGY

Dipper’s heart jumped into his throat. His first instinct was to shove this thing right off his lap–what on earth was a demonology textbook doing in his house? This was… the level of illegal this thing was, his head was spinning to think of it. Mom and Dad weren’t demonologists, and neither was Mal, so-

…So why was his Dad reading it? At first Dipper had the desperate thought that he’d dropped some other, unrelated book, and this amazingly illegal little bombshell had just been left here by somebody else, some other time. But if the lack of dust didn’t kill that theory dead, the notes finished it off; his head swam as he gathered them up and read his Dad’s shaky handwriting: FOREST SPOT? RCH OUT OLD CNCTS SEE WHT WKS NOW, Y NO ANSR

Dipper didn’t realise how hard he was breathing until his head started to spin; with shaking hands, he just shoved all the notes inside until he couldn’t see them anymore. What the hell was going on? What was he supposed to do about this? Did Mom know? What was he gonna-

Creak.

Just the slightest sound made him freeze, stock still, hardly daring to breathe. Sitting out in the open, with this book on his lap… when the noise didn’t repeat, he raced to stuff the thing into his shirt and jump to his feet. He peeked into the stairway, and when his Dad was nowhere to be seen, he dashed upstairs as fast as he dared, back down the hall, back to his room.

Dipper didn’t sleep well that night.

________________________________________________________________

“Mom, no.”

“Come on, Mallory! Let’s have a nice family breakfast!”

“No, we’ve got, Dipper and I have somewhere to be, don’t we, Dipper? Dipper?”

For once, Mal’s gaze wasn’t the most piercing thing in the room. Dipper didn’t even register her voice until he got a shove on the shoulder.

“Huh? What?”

“We’re going to Marsh’s, remember?” She spoke through gritted teeth, then spun around at the sound of crackling bacon. “Wha- Mom! I just told you-”

“Don’t be like that, sweetie! If you’ve got a big day ahead, you need a big breakfast!”

“Wh-!”

“Help me set the table, won’t you, Mallory?”

“I-”

“Please just set the table.”

And maybe it was opposites day, or maybe Mallory could sense the same strangeness in the air that Dipper did, because he heard a great huff… and then the opening and slamming closed of cabinets. Forks and knives and spoons and plates started appearing in front of him, and in front of the figure sitting at the end of the table.

Ronald Quicksilver was sitting still and straight, his good hand tapping on the table, his eyes trained unmoving and unblinking on Dipper. Dipper couldn’t see what expression he had on, because he didn’t dare to look; he just sat with his phone out, the screen black, staring at his reflection and waiting for the moment he could run out the door and never look back.

Stars, it was such a stupid move to take that textbook. Of course his Dad would come back for it, of course! And now what? Were they gonna talk about it? ‘Hey, Dad, couldn’t help but notice you’re trying to summon a demon, is that a new hobby?’

Just the thought made him cringe into his seat. Last night he’d been wanting to talk to his Dad more–he must’ve been touching a monkey’s paw. What a mess. What an absolute-

“Breakfast,” Mal dropped a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him, then lowered her voice. “Let’s eat fast, yeah? We’re wasting daylight.”

Then she served their Dad, set her plate down, and started inhaling her toast with the speed (and table manners) of a teenager in a growth spurt. Their Mom gave her an odd look as she sat down.

“You two are certainly in a hurry today.” A pause; she and their Dad exchanged a glance, and then she smiled over at Dipper. “What’s, what’s the rush, sweetie? What are we up to?”

And now both their eyes were on him. “Um-” he started, but Mal cut in.

“Going to Marsh’s, she’s a great friend, yadda yadda, let’s go.”

Then she stood up, and swift-walked her plate to the sink before her Mom could stop her.

“Wh- Mal, honey, you can’t be done-”

“Can and am.”

“You don’t want to have breakfast with us?” Her eyes softened. “It’s been a while since we’ve all sat down together. I feel like I’ve barely seen you since Gemma-”

“Cool cool cool–Dipper, buddy, how long does it take to eat an egg? Are you waiting for those things to hatch?”

“Hatch? They’re fried.”

“Hatch, gestate- whatever, stupid joke, it doesn’t-” She jerked her head to the side. “Shut-! Nevermind. Look, I’ll be outside!”

Dipper had a horrible realisation that he was about to be left alone with his parents. “W-wait,” he jumped up, shoving bacon into his mouth. “Wai’ f’r ‘e!”

And he dashed out of the door after her. Their Mom was quick to follow.

“Hey, what’s the big rush? What’s gotten into you two?”

Dipper slowed down; Mal forged ahead. “Just… friends! Going to see that same friend we did a week ago, uh, Marsh.” He tried for a grin. “We’ll be back soon.”

“It can’t wait for after breakfast? I was hoping we could have a little talk.”

A talk; he caught the tension in that. “Sorry, Mom, just-” He said; his eyes skipped over to Mal. “She’s really excited to go, and it’s… good for her, you know? Get her out of the house. Maybe later?”

“Oh, definitely, I’m glad she’s…” A pause. “Does she… has she talked to you about it, or…?”

“Not really.”

A sigh. “I thought so. Oh, poor Gemma–poor Mallory. It’s got to be so-”

“Hey, Dipper!” Mal shouted from the hearse. “Are you gonna stand there gossiping with Mom about me or are you coming with?”

Then she started the engine with a roar, and tore past them out of the parking lot. Their Mom blinked.

“She left without you!”

“No, we just take two cars everywhere now, apparently.” To her look, he could only offer a shrug. “She says she’s got a pickup in town?”

“That's not on my calendar. We really shouldn't be using the hearse just to go to lunch–it costs a fortune in gas.”

“Yeah, well…” A nervous laugh. “You can tell her that.”

“Hah. You’re… I’ll talk to her later.” His Mom hesitated for a moment, her hands clasped to her chest. “Dipper?”

Dipper knew what was coming; for a split second he thought about driving off as well, putting this off until some other time… but he was already stopping, already looking back. “Yeah?”

“I was just, um… funny story, I was talking to your father this morning, um…” A pause; now it was her who struggled to meet his eyes. “He said you were up pretty late. Are you sleeping alright, sweetie?”

He had such a pit in his stomach. His head was static.

“Uh… we were just- your father and I, we… this is going to sound, hah, silly, but-”

“You’re asking about the book,” Dipper said, because of course she was. “The dem-”

“Yes!” She spoke sharply, then put her hands up. “Yes, that, that thing. Look, sweetie, I’m sure you have a lot of questions-”

“Questions?” The static was louder now, a buzzing in his ears. “Yeah, you could say that! That was not what I was expecting, and you know, I’m getting pretty tired of all these bombshell secrets dropping about everyone I know! I would really like that to stop!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why, why on earth do you guys have a-!” At her flinch, he forced himself to stop; right, not the thing to be yelling about in public. “I just- how long has this been going on? What are you guys doing? Do you know how illegal that is?”

She nodded; her eyes were blurring. “I know, I-I know. But we’ve been worried sick about you two since Gemma was killed; I know you’re still trying to investigate it. That’s what you’re both running off to do, aren’t you?” Her voice cracked, and she lowered it. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you two, I really couldn’t. He’s helped us before; if He could just watch over you two for a couple weeks-”

“He’s helped- what? Who?” At her silence, Dipper tried a dangerous question. “Alcor?”

Something in her jaw went tight. By way of answering, his Mom dug in her purse, and drew out her car keys.

“You shouldn’t be driving, sweetie.” She pressed a button, and the locks clicked open. “Please, let me give you a lift.”

Dipper hesitated for a long moment. He glanced across at his car, still dirty and dented from the beating it’d taken at Gemma’s… then, with a sigh, he moved towards hers.

She didn’t see his face; she never, never did. But the voice that spoke from her shoulder had become all too familiar.

“Oh, did I upset you?” crooned Ianitor. “I’m sorry, little murderer. I could see you were reminiscing; I just thought I’d help out.”

Bullshit, Mal thought… but she’d long since given up on arguing with him.

“If I may say,” he continued (always, always continued), “it’s strange how you remember past events. Demons, of course, we’re omniscient beings, but it seems like you humans have an oddly… selective memory. You don’t remember Harry in the library with you? Hanging out with Gemma in your forest?”

And sure enough, more little snapshots wormed their way into Mal’s mind. She was more prepared this time; as Harry’s dimpled smile flashed before her eyes, she took a long drag and just… tried to not be here.

“Emmy! Ohmigosh, how’s it going? I missed you soooo much!”

“Come on, Mal! You promised not to laugh at me!”

“Oh, my stars, you’re ridiculous. I love you.”

Her fingers were trembling, so she clasped them together. He’s in your head, so you just don’t think about it, that’s all you do. You just gotta shut off, you just gotta hold on–

“Help! Help! Please, Mal! I don’t wanna-”

“No. No way. That's sick. You’re sick.”

“So, uhh, how’re you holding up?”

“Is that a joke?”

“Of course not. Dude, you look like shit, I’m just trying to- where are you going? Harry? Come on, Harry, don’t be like that! Don’t- why won’t you just talk to me, Harry, come on! Please, Harry, please!”

He’s trying to get a rise; that’s all this is, a rise. Don’t react, don’t think, don’t feel. You don’t get to be a person anymore, this is what you de–wait, don’t think that, don’t- stop thinking, just stop, just STOP–

“Are we doomed? A-are we just doomed to this?”

“What are you talking about, Harry?”

“We’re trying to get away - we’ve always been trying to get away with this shit! Ever since Angeline, we’re– we’ve just been running from this and I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!”

“Emmy? What are you-”

“NO!”e

It was only when the sound echoed back to her that Mal realised she’d said it out loud. Stars filtered back in and found her back against the wall, her hands in her hair, the pen lying in the gravel by her feet.

Her heart was pounding so fast it hurt. No, no, no. Not that night. Not ever again–but a cackle in her ear was a chilling reminder this wasn’t up to her anymore.

“Oh, that one’s a bit too fresh, huh?” The naked glee in his voice could hide behind no pretense; she could hear the wet sounds of his smile. “I can still get you with that one.”

“Don-” Mal started, and then bit it back. Don’t. Don’t. She could see her vision narrowing in–no, please don’t, please! She’d do anything!

“Hah–anything? I hear that so often; you know my price, little murderer.”

Mal just nodded. Yeah, whatever, she’d do another one.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to overwork you; you’ve still got quite the backlog from when I helped you with-”

Her fists clenched. It’s fine! It’s fine! Everyone was still giving her space after– she had time to work on it, that’s all.

“Oh, I suppose that’s true.” And his voice drew back. “Very well, then. Enjoy your break, little murderer. I wouldn’t take too long if I were you.”

And then, finally, mercifully, silence. Mal stood for a moment in the peace of her own mind, eyes closed, soaking in the cricket-song. She used to come out here a lot–used to sneak out her bedroom window when she was a teenager, or walk out the backdoor while the glass was in the kiln, and stare up at the stars and wonder how much she’d miss them when she got to the big city. Maybe she’d get all burned out on NLA, and move onto one of those far-out floating islands, and start a plucky YA fantasy series under the pseudonym E. M. Mercury that unexpectedly hits it big and fly across the world on flashy book tours and movie adaptations but always come home to her cozy little farm under the stars… or, you know, something like that. It wasn’t like she’d put a bunch of thought into it, right?

The ghost of a grin flitted across her lips, before a sigh blew it away. That was all they were–ghosts, dead as the bodies she’d work with for the rest of her grinding life.

She thought a lot about reincarnation, these days. Starting again, leaving your past and your bloody hands behind, living a new life unburdened by all the mistakes you’d piled up in front of you. What would she be like? Would she be a different person… or–and bile climbed her throat–was this something deeper, some rot in her soul, dark and evil and inevitable, that reached out and choked everything good and kind around her?

What if she started over, and found out she was exactly the same?

A shudder. Bending down like someone twice her age, she scooped her vape out of the gravel and stuffed it into her pocket. Rubbed her face. Scratched her arms. Glanced back at the door, then up at the stars, searching like she could find something new in them.

Something.

Anything.

Anything at all.

…

But all she found was a hand on her shoulder. “Little murderer,” it started, and she honestly, truly, wished she was dead right now. “A moment of your time?”

She didn’t even bother to shake her head.

“Yes, yes, I was going to leave you alone. I’m so sorry to disturb you, but I thought you’d want to know something.”

Then he paused, made her turn her head and ask, “What is it?”

“It’s Dipper, your, ah,”–and he chuckled a bit–“your brother. Looks like he’s coming to knock on your door. I told you not to take too long, didn’t I?”

God damn it, Dipper–she rubbed her eyes. Why now? What did he want?

“You’d better go find out. We don’t want him to wonder what’s taking you so long.”

And that got her to move. With a groan, she picked herself off the wall and shuffled back into the crematory, locking the door behind her. Striding across the mess, she reached the other side just as there was a knock. There she paused, and managed a smile; her charm would turn it from a deadeyed grimace into something a little more presentable.

Cracking open the door, she slid outside and shut it behind her. “Dipper!” She said to the figure standing in the dimly-lit hall. “Hey, bro, two questions. What’s up, and why can’t this wait until morning?”

Dipper looked at her. “I know what you did,” he said, and her blood went cold.

“Wh-what? What do you mean?” She backed against the doors. “What are you talking about, I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

But he just looked confused. “Gemma’s code,” he said, slowly. “I said, I know what it says?”

“Uh…” Mal started, and then jumped at a cackle in her ear. The dots slowly connected: Ianitor. Motherfucker.

“Mal?” Dipper looked concerned now. “Are you-”

“Yeah! Yeah, sorry, fine, just…” She waited for his laughter and the white-hot fury in her chest to die down. “What do you- code? Gemma’s code?”

“Yeah… sorry.” His expression softened. “I know… we don’t have to… I know this has been really hard for you. Marsh and I, we can-”

“What, you’re gonna cut me out of this? Cut me out of solving my best friend’s murder?” She spotted a paper in his hands, and snatched it. “Let me see that.”

It was mostly just to check; yep, it was that little code she texted him from Gemma’s phone. Funny–he thought it was sooo easy, but it seems like he only just now figured out the second message she put in there. Smart twin, yeah right.

“No, no, not cutting you out at all, that’s, that's why I came down here!” Her eyes glazed over as he pointed at some circled letters. “I was taking another look, I noticed the x’s, this one is right in the middle of a sentence! Strange, right? And the letters after are capitalised; if you put those all together, they spell-”

“Cabin,” Mal said. Dipper grinned; his excitement was punchable. Nobody told her this false-trail stuff was gonna feel less suave and more like being on a show aimed at particularly stupid preschoolers–‘can you find the clue I left that’s staring you in the face?’ ‘Oh wow, good job!’

“Exactly!” He said, and her fists crumpled the page. “Her family’s cabin in the woods! There’s gotta be something there!”

“Okay, that…” She gritted her teeth. “I, I never would’ve noticed that! But, uh… are we supposed to go now or something?”

“What?”

“It’s the middle of the night, dude.” Shoving the paper back at him, she crossed her arms. “I don’t know about you, but I think vampire hunting is more of a daytime hobby.”

He blinked, the smile fading on his face. “Uh… no, yeah, totally! I just thought you’d want-”

“Want to know, yeah, thanks.”

“Mal-”

“Oh my god, if the next words out of your mouth are ‘how’re you doing’-” She stopped herself, put her hands up. “I’ll-, I’ll see you in the morning, alright?”

Worry was written all over Dipper’s face. He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “Okay.”

“Yeah, we’ll, we’ll get Marsh on this as well or something. I’ll call her.”

“Okay.” And as she turned her back on him: “I love you.”

For now, she thought. “I love you too,” she said, and then she shut the door in his face. There was no solitude to be had, though; immediately Ianitor piped up.

“You didn’t like my little prank, did you?” He snickered. “I do apologise, it was–what do you humans say? It was too good to pass up!”

“I thought I paid you to fuck off for a bit.”

“Oh, no, not at all! You should pay closer attention to the deals you make, little murderer.” His claws squeezed down on her shoulders as she crossed the room, stepping over some things. “You paid me to not bring up that certain little incident–for an unspecified amount of time as well, sloppy. Quite sloppy.”

She was digging through the drawers, trying to drown him out.

“And that ‘extra time’ you thought you had, hah, well, that’s just gone up in smoke, hasn’t it? Now that he’s found your trail, it seems like we’d better discuss the next stage of the plan.”

There they were; drawing them slowly out, Mal laid one glass charm on the desk, and then another. She cut two lengths of red ribbon and tied them into bracelets; crude work, but it’d do.

“It looks nice to me,” said Ianitor. “I like the red. It reminds me-”

“Of blood, yeah, you’re a demon, I get it.”

“Oh, you wound me, little murderer! I have more dimensionality than that!” A pause. “It reminds me of fresh blood. A true connoisseur knows to be specific.”

Mal let out a groan, turning to a long sigh, deflating her down, down, down until her face rested on the counter. She used to like murder mysteries; there was always a charm to the villains, wasn’t there? They could juggle like a million twists and still have time to trade their little quips. They never seemed stressed at all; it was unrealistic, that’s what it was!

…

Ah, but what did it matter.