A Blue Flame {A Gravity Falls Fan Fiction}

Into the Woods and Out Again

Stanley Pines sat in his reclining chair, watching his now favorite TV show, The Grand Duchess Returns. Though it was a remake/prequel type show to one from the late 80's, the show still had yet to make him not cry each episode. In his own words, "It's just so dramatic and heartfelt!"

It was almost midnight; he had been trying catch up on the show all night. Glancing down at his golden watch, he furrowed his brow.

"Dipper said he'd be back no later than 11," he muttered. "He's never late." Frowning he contemplated going out to look for him.

"HEY FORD, GO FIND DIPPER!"

He decided against getting up at the moment. Only silence answered. With a grunt and a not so nice word, he swung his legs down to stand.

After cracking his bones into place and stretching his back out, he walked to the vending machine that goes down to his brothers laboratory area. He cracked it open and put his lips up to the crack.

"HEY STANFORD!! WHERE ARE YOU?"

No answer. Dipper and Ford gone? Okay, well that's usually normal, Stan told himself. But it was really late. And the silence made Stan feel weary about the creaking shack.

With another large sigh, Stan grabbed his bath robe. Which was, by the way, one of the warmest and softest things you could wear outside in public. At least, in his eyes. Also it was easy to get on and off. He was getting a little too old for this.

After getting his shoes on, he opened the rickety old shack door and stepped out into the dampened darkness of the night. The porch light of the shack flickered, the bulb ready to give out at any given moment.

Stomping outside, he headed towards the black woods that nearly surrounded the Mystery Shack. Thankfully Dipper had shown him on a map where he had been headed. Lately Dipper had been doing that, especially with Ford, for safety measures. The kid was smart, Stan was glad for that sometimes.

After walking a while in the pitch dark, he could see an opening in the trees. It opened up to a flat area with grass and weeds that were almost as tall as Stan's waist. He brushed aside the dry plant life, walking nearly blind under the darkened moonlight. Clouds filtered the light to a darkened gay mist, it seemed.

Finally after trekking through the foliage and tall grass, the clear area narrowed into a small opening. Following the now narrow passage, a small and claustrophobic tunnel of stone, Stan muttered, "Too big for this, too old."

He squeezed out of the tunnel, almost tripping over his bathrobe strings. Once again he found himself in a large clearing. On the left and right if him was dense forrest. In front of him lay a beautifully sparkling cave. With natural light of the cave, he saw a lump lying in front of its entrance.

"Dipper?" Stan nearly whispered, horror in his eyes. The body was strew on the ground, as if it had just collapsed.

The glow keeping the area lit, Stan rushed to the body. He kneeled and brought the head up from lying face first in the ground. Dipper's eyes were closed, pain written all over his face. Quickly but tenderly, Stan picked up the small sixteen year old. Dipper stayed frozen in the expression he wore, like in a trance, though his body was limp.

"Hang in there Dipper," Stan stood, taking a glance towards the glittering cave. A little ways in the cave he saw Dipper's tan backpack. Quickly he went and picked it up, somehow, while he held Dipper.

As quickly as he could, he went back to the shack, trying his best not trip over his own two feet in the pitch black dark. Cursing he wished he had brought a flash light. But Ford had banned anyone he knew to ever use a flashlight in the woods after 11 PM or before 4 AM.

Ford is so dead, so very dead. If he did this... Or if he could have prevented this... Stan's thoughts grew hot with hate and fear for his great nephew.

The flickering porch lights of the shack soon came into view. Picking up his pace he practically ran to the shack. Kicking the door in, he ran to his reclining chair and set Dipper down in it. Listening for a heart beat, he breathed a sigh of small relief, went to go and make a hot pack for Dipper's cold body. Hurriedly after putting the water to boil on the stove, he went back to the boy.

"What happened to you Dipper?!" He asked in a hushed voice. There was no sign of struggle or blood anywhere that Stan could find.

Propping his nephews head against a pillow and grabbing a large blanket, Stan reclined the seat and let Dipper lie, covered. Hopefully he's comfortable. Hopefully he's okay. Stan scowled, but his eyes were sad.

After he finished making the hot pack, he tucked it in with Dipper and his blankets, then proceeded to stay up all night tending to his nephew with care.

"Don't worry Dip. You'll be okay. I gotcha." Stan put his hand over Dipper's cold, limp one. "I'm here for yah Dipper, I'm here."