[🔶] Gravity Falls: Rewritten!

Chapter 36: Indie Bands and Banding Together

Pacifica paced back and forth across the spotless white tiles, her heels clicking with every frustrated step. "I just don't get it. You two spent the whole afternoon together, you made dinner—for two—and then he just left?"

While Pacifica was practically carving a groove into the floor, Y/n sat motionless on the couch, palms pressed hard against her eyes as if willing the tears to stop. The pressure didn't help. She could feel everything building, the dam threatening to break with every shaky breath.

A tight frown tugged at her lips before a soft sob finally slipped out—just enough to make Pacifica freeze.

The blonde turned slowly, eyes landing on her friend. She hesitated, then walked over and sat beside her, reaching out to gently pat her shoulder.

The touch was enough to unravel her. Y/n's shoulders began to tremble, and she leaned forward as if trying to fold into herself.

She hated this feeling—like she was unraveling at the seams. Hopeless. Powerless. Vulnerable.

Pacifica gently pulled Y/n closer, her hand rubbing slow, calming circles on her back. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice steady despite the ache she felt for her friend. "You're okay."

Y/n didn't respond, not with words. Her tears soaked into her sleeve as her body trembled quietly, caught in the tug-of-war between hurt and worry. It stung—Dipper leaving without a word, disappearing as if none of it meant anything. But what haunted her more was the look on his face before he ran.

She'd seen fear in people before—patients panicking, children crying—but there was something different about Dipper. That moment stuck to her ribs like a bad dream. His sleep had been restless, his voice cracking as he mumbled no over and over, trapped in something he couldn't escape from. And then he woke—and fled.

She wanted to be angry. Maybe a part of her was. But more than anything, she was scared. Not of what he did... but of what he might be going through.

***

It had all happened so fast. One moment, Mabel was upstairs in the attic, humming softly as she tucked Waddles into his blanket. The shack had quieted down for the night—most of the lights were off, everyone settling into their beds. Peaceful.

Then came the sudden, frantic footsteps thudding down the hall, followed by the door slamming open.

Dipper stumbled inside, breathless, his eyes wild like he had just outrun something only he could see. Without a word, he collapsed onto the bed, curling into himself with his knees drawn up tight to his chest. His hands were trembling. His breaths came in sharp, uneven bursts like it physically hurt to inhale.

Mabel didn't ask questions. She just rushed to his side.

The only light in the room came from the flickering flame of the bedside lamp, casting soft shadows across the walls. Dipper sat hunched over, trying and failing to calm himself. The dam had already cracked, and now the tears came pouring out like they had been waiting all day.

He hated this. The vulnerability. The weakness. But no matter how hard he tried to hold it in, his heart was crying for help—and tonight, it finally won.

Mabel pulled him close, cradling his head to her shoulder like she used to when they were little. Her fingers ran through his hair, slow and soothing. She didn't say anything at first. She didn't need to. Because sometimes, the only thing that helps is knowing someone's there. And right now, Mabel was.

After some time, she gently broke the silence, her voice low and tender.

"Bad dream?"

Dipper gave a small nod, his breath shaky. "...Nightmare," he muttered, barely audible.