Dippers deal

Deal

Story is not mine created goes to owner.

The soft sunlight warmed his fur, the grass beneath him was soft and smelled like life itself. Relaxing, his head heavy with the lack of proper sleep, he didn't notice how his ears had begun to slowly fall until they brushed softly against his cheeks. Dipper's eyes shot open from the unexpected touch and a small sound escaped his lips while he quickly tried to blink the soreness from his eyes.

He had been up all night trying to find a cure to this damn curse.

And of course he failed.

Again.

Dipper sighed, rubbing at his pounding head in frustration just to feel his soft brown hair beneath his fingers.

'My hat? Where-'

But the thief was just a few foot before him.

"Gompers!" he exclaimed.

He spotted the goat giving him a blank stare, continuing to chew on his hat as if he found it to be the most delicious thing on the planet. Huffing, Dipper pushed himself to his thin deer legs and started forward, his bloodshot eyes focusing on the animal as he mumbled under his breath.

"Dumb goat, eating whatever's in front of you, I bet you can't even think-"

Before he was near the beast, one of his hind hooves suddenly caught on the Journal laying in the grass where he had been studying before, causing him to trip and land in the dirt, face first. Fortunately, the sudden quick movement of the cervitaur was more than enough to startle Gompers into dropping his meal and leaving to find a quieter place to feed.

Dipper was left behind to push himself back up, rubbing the mud off of his face until he noticed the chewed up hat in front of him.

"Great!" he proclaimed.

He picked up the article of clothing, setting it carefully back on his head between his ears, turning back to the Journal. With a small sigh the half deer folded his legs on the soft grass and reached out for the old book in front of him.

At least he was awake now.

The Journal in his hands felt as heavy as before. The pages greeted him with well known entries. He had read them, all of them. But nothing seemed to be the clue he'd been looking for. A solution to the damage he had caused and to the pain, the guilt, he felt at his core.

Dipper's eyes had started to burn while his ears had flattened as if to emphasise his thoughts. Of course, the damn deer part of him just had to give a visual display of his feelings. Memories of the last few days took over his mind.

Yesterday Mabel's bowl had broken, leaving her to dry on the parlor floor, surrounded by shattered glass and water too shallow to matter. Alone.

Stan had been resting on the porch, or more accurately, he had turned to stone there. No breathing, no heartbeat, no signs of life. As still and as dead as a real statue.

Soos hadn't come to work that day, either. A few minutes in the scorching heat was more than enough to turn the Golem into a puddle on the floor. Even Wendy had called in sick that day and it wouldn't take a genius to figure out the reason, considering the full moon the night before.

What of Dipper, then, the mighty explorer of the mysteries of Gravity Falls? Where was he while his sister was writhing on the floor, desperate and gasping for water?

In the forest, of course!

Once again, only him and his Journal searching out a peaceful place to examine the curse and had it not been for the distant sound of hunters disturbing the tranquility he would never had been forced back to the Shack and he would've been too late.