See You Earlier!

Sweater Town

Dipper

Dipper tensed his shoulders in a sort of half-stretch. He looked over the book he held. "Meh. The butler stole the capers." Dipper set down the book and looked into the storage area. The first thoughts that came to him were of Mabel. How was she doing? Was she okay? She wasn't hurt, was she? Oh God someone kidnapped her. She drowned or fell or got kidnapped or–

Dipper took a deep breath and shut his eyes. No. He wasn't going through this again. Instead, he let his senses take him. He fell back onto his hearing. He thought about the beating of his heart, the air that moved through his lungs in and out, in and out, in and out. The wind whistled outside. Nothing, not even mice, disturbed this small, cramped space. So, bored, he concentrated on quieter sounds, sounds he would normally block out to give him more conscious thinking space.

He heard a shuffle, farther outside of the space. He could hear breathing of an odd rhythm just outside. It was hard, constricted almost like someone wrapped a cord around a man's neck and constricted it while the man in question just let it happen and did his best to muffle his own choking.

"Oh, no, Mabel..."

"Mabel's not here. She's in Sweater Town."

"Are you gunna come out of Sweater Town?"

"Nuh-uh."

Dipper overturned the book in his hands. What should he do? Stanford isn't Mabel. Dipper couldn't cheer him up like he could Mabel by hugs and helping fix her problems when she felt too trapped to do it herself. Dipper's eyes widened. Why did it take him that long to think of it? Stanford was only upset because he was too trapped to think of a way out. Dipper knew precisely what he needed. But first, he'd need to find a way to get Stanford out of Sweater Town.

What does Stanford like to do? Aside from studying anomalies and boasting about his achievements, there wasn't much Dipper knew of him. Even when Dipper thought he'd figured some part out, a whole mess would appear and Dipper believed he didn't even know who his great uncle was. He knew even less now. Dipper knew what Stanford would like in thirty years. That would be...

Dipper put down a smile. "Uh, G- Stanford?" Ugh, he still had trouble saying his name.

There was a sharp intake of breath in the other room. After a short scramble, some muttered words Dipper didn't feel like hearing, and a few moment's silence, Stanford crept into the room. "Dipper? Did you need something?"

Dipper nodded and turned his focus on him. "Um, you know, you, uh... I was, um..." Spit it out! Stop stalling! Just do what Mabel would do! "You want to play a game or something?" Dipper winced. "Um, I don't know, like, uh.... Oh! Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons?" He put on a hopeful smile.

Stanford's eyes went round he looked... genuinely taken aback. "You... you know that game?"

"With pen and paper, shield and sword..."

"-Our quest shall be our sweet reward!" Stanford announced, his voice merging so well with Dipper's it was a wonder they were separate entities.

Stanford huffed. "I didn't know... I didn't think anyone played that game anymore."

"Me, neither," Dipper's grin turned sheepish. "Everyone says it's too nerdy."

"Well it's just nerdy enough for us."

Dipper could see the light starting to return to Stanford's eyes. Like someone had stabbed through a thick layer of stone with a drill, light slowly trickled into the blocked off cavern Stanford had put himself in. Dipper's smile turned into a grin. "Do you have it?"