Never Let You Down ~ A Dipcifica Fanfiction (Book 7: Finale)

Chapter 21: Realization

Dipper walked as quietly as possible. The mansion was dark and cold; the only light was that shining from the outside, it wasn't much warmer inside either. Regardless, Dipper continued his long, slow, trek to where he thought the light that he saw outside emanated from.
Suddenly Dipper stopped, he heard the footsteps from above him, it sounded like two or more people to Dipper's well-tuned ears. Through the ceiling, he heard a muffled voice, it sounded like a middle aged man.
Someone else was surely in this house.
Dipper found his way over to the staircase (surprisingly without making the faintest of a sound). He crouched down behind the door at the top. With slow movement, he reached to grab the knob. It was unlocked. He proceeded in cautiously.
"Now darling, you've done what I instructed?"
Dipper was caught off guard, startled by the voice a mere few feet from himself. Dipper nearly panicked when he remembered his mission. Luckily he had a wall between him and the voice's body. He remained in cover.
Even though he was unaware of the body of the voice, knew who it sounded like. How could he forget, the greedy, boastful, all-too-charming voice of Preston Northwest.
But wait, "darling" someone else is here, but who? Dipper thought to himself. He realized he would have to listen to find out.
After hearing no response, Dipper sprinted (as quietly as he could) in the direction of Preston's voice.
He slipped into a room on the side of the hall to evade being spotted; this act was successful and he continued. At this point, he could see the light source that presumably was the one from outside, behind a closed door at the end of the grand hall. Preston's muffled voice came from the same room behind that set of Oakwood double doors. Dipper knew Preston was in there, if he was right, then he could finally get some answers.
Preston's voice was no longer audible, and his footsteps became more distant.
He must have left, now's my chance! Dipper, without hesitating (and a solid plan), made a mad dash to the door.
He peeked in and slowly made an effort to open the door without it creaking. Dipper slid into the room, seeing no one. The source of light came from a fireplace fixed in the centerpoint of room. On top, covered in a sheet was a large painted portrait of Preston himself, his wife, and a younger Pacifica, it was only visible because the light made the white sheet somewhat translucent. The three in the picture whore the cynical expression of a once great and financially elite family. The thought of it brought a degree of disgust to Dipper.
As Dipper was admiring the painting, someone walked through the door. Obviously, Dipper was not expecting to see them and neither were they expecting to see Dipper. The surprised and audible gasp from the other proved the latter.
"Pacifica...?" Dipper said realizing the figure.
"D-dipper what... What are you doing here?" Anxiety ran through Pacifica like lightning through a medal rod.
"I came to rescue you." Dipper said expecting gratitude and an eagerness to escape.
"You have to leave now!... PLEASE!" She begged.
"Stop acting crazy! Let's go-" Dipper was cut off by the priming of a gun.
"Leaving so soon?" An obnoxiously mocking voice was heard from behind Dippers field of vision.
"Pitty you won't stay, it's been some time Mr Pines." He laughed.
"Preston, you sick bastard!" Hot-headed, Dipper turned around. His hands were up only partially to show that he wasn't going to try anything but also to show resistance to total submission to his enemy.
"You're not going to win!" Dipper spat.
"Oh really, who's holding the gun? And do you think anyone would be able to find you if an accident were to unfortunately occur?" Preston expressed authority by toting his pistol.
Dipper grunted and grit his teeth.
"Dipper, my boy, how naïve you are. I do commend you on finding me, and so quickly; yet you just burst into this estate, unarmed, unskilled, without plan or prior knowledge of the situation. You're all but a hopeless child. And after four long years you didn't figure out my darling daughter was lying to you all along."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Dipper was flabbergasted, he knew not the information now told to him.
"Well, that whole romantic interest between the two of you, that was nothing more than a vehicle for this family's real financial interests, to put it in terms a plebian commoner, like yourself, may understand, when they put me away, I needed someone to take over my position to continue the rate of income to myself and my family. You were obviously more competent than my runnerups and therefore you were chosen. We needed someway to get close to you, Pacifica was instructed create a trust with you and seal the deal. In other words, my daughter's love for you was more financially motivated than romantic."
Dipper eyes wideden.
It's not true! You're a liar! He refused to accept it. Preston's speech was punctual and (when put in the right context) made somewhat sense.
Dipper was paralysed with emotion and overwhelmed.
He turned to face Pacifica, who said nothing during this whole thing.
She stood with her head hung, looking at the floor. This made Dipper worry, was Preston telling the truth; were he and Pacifica only together as part of a money scheme? Did she really even love him? Did Pacifica never really change?
"Oh, don't believe me? Isn't that true Pacifica?" Preston directed his latter question at Pacifica, still motionless.
Dipper turned to face her, anxious for her to say the entire thing was a lie constructed by her father. She said nothing, continuing to look away.
"So it's true." Dipper said softly, he slid the back of his hand across his face to wipe the tears.
"No, no. Dipper I do love you!" She looked up and ran too him.
"Yes my father told me to do that, but I realized that I changed, that wasn't important; I realized that I loved you Dipper." She clung to his arm. Dipper forced her off.
"No! You're all liars. Everyone in your sick family is, especially you. Stay away from me, get out of my life. I hate you!" Dipper spat, enraged.
Pacifica stepped back.
"Well Dipper, this is where your story comes to an end. Poor boy, betrayed by those he loved and felled by the man he thought he defeated." Preston took aim.
"Father no, what are you doing, Please!" Pacifica begged for Dipper's life.
"Dipper Pines, I wish you farewell-"
"Not so Goddamn fast Preston!"
A female voice came from behind Preston. Dipper, in an inhuman, motionless, state, prepared to die, noticed that Preston did not fire his weapon and turned around to see what was going on.
Preston stood with his hands up and a masked figure pressed another gun up the back of his head.
"Drop it!" She commanded.
Preston did as instructed.
The voice was familiar. Who was it?
"Move."
Preston walked over with Pacifica. The masked figure picked up Preston's firearm and pointed them both as the two Northwests.
"Let's get out of here, police are on their way." She said, her masked head way slightly tilted towards Dipper.
He didn't acknowledge immediately due to the gravity of the situation and the psychological effect that it seemed to curse him with; his attention was grabbed a few awkward seconds later however.
"Uh, right. Sorry." Dipper followed her out. He turned to gleam at Pacifica. Their eyes met. Dipper were greeted by sorrow, hers by Dipper's rage.