Fighting For Control V2.0 [Gravity Falls Fanfiction] [STALLED]

Who are you?

[I kinda died there for a few days... I'll try edit the next few chapters quickly. Longer chapters mean longer skims. ;P]

He took deep breaths, in and out. He sighed and shook his head. It was fine. He was just... maybe he just couldn't remember? It was fine. He looked left and right, searching to see if anyone had seen his panic. The coast was clear and he just continued reading. 'Trust No One' the journal reminded him upon greeting. Dipper grimaced and closed it. He ruminated the skip in his memory and tried to remember what happened but nothing came up.

At the edge of his vision, a pink blur appeared by the doorway. Dipper smiled and sat up, ready to greet the form. "Hey, Mabel."

She noticeably stiffened, but gave him a relieved smile. "Hey, Dipdop. You doing alright?"

He nodded. "Yeah..." for a breif moment he wondered if he should mention something to her... he decided not to. "Just thinking."

She nodded. "Well, if you need anything I'll be in the room making new sweaters for Waddles." She brought the pig into view, manhandling the creature. "Waaaaaaddddllllleees" she drawled, before walking upstairs.

"I'll come check them out later!" He called after her. She responded with a big 'yuuup!'

Dipper looked back down to the journal, he put his hand over the six fingered golden one on it. He licked his parched lips and pouted. He really needed a drink.

The boy hopped from his chair and walked into the kitchen, it being a break day Stan was sipping a cup of joe at the table. He gave his Grunkle a nod and opened the fridge. "Expired milk, cheap orange juice and Pitt Cola..." Dipper muttered before talking the peach soda.

Blink.

He coughed up the soda, carbonated peach burned through his face. His mouth, his throat, his nose- even his eyes burned! The coughed up soda spilled on the floor and onto his shirt.

He caught his breath, Stan's laughter finally catching up with him. "Where'd you learn to drink? You practically showered yourself in that stuff. Ha!"

The younger Pines forced a laugh and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. When the rubbing turned into clawing, he dropped his hand and felt it twitch and buzz wildly. I have to be alone.

"Maybe you can teach me one day...?" Dipper offered as a distraction. His great uncle put a hand to his chin and looked at the ceiling in thought. At his chance, Dipper dropped the Pitt can and ran off, upstairs.

"Kid!" Stan yelled after him. "Where're you going?"

Ignoring his calls, Dipper zoomed into his shared room and whipped the door closed. He looked down at his energized fingers, giving them experimental touches. His breathing cooled and he sighed, massaging his half- numb hand. His hand moved awkwardly in it's reactions, as if it had to get used to it's anatomy all over again.

"Hey, Dip! Come look at this sweater! It has ham on it!" A beaming voice pierced the silence.

He yelped, spinning towards the source of the noise and hiding his hand behind his back. "Hah... yeah..." he said, distractedly trying to control his hand. Mabel was talking, but by the time Dipper was able to clench and unclench his fist at will, she was snapping for his attention. "-huh?" He asked wisely.

"Dipper. Ugh." Mabel shook her head in mock disappointment. "I asked 'what were you doing' like three times, bro."

Dipper shrugged. "I- uh... spilt soda all over myself and I need a change of clothes." It wasn't a lie. The male twin avoided his sister's intense stare.