I'm into Insomniacs (discontinued)

Confess

(A/N: Hey, guys! Yet another long ass chapter of "Everybody has an emotional breakdown and nobody has a therapist." Just wanted to kind of warn everyone that I'm moving, so I might lose the time to update for a few months, maybe. I'm not stopping the story, obviously. The updates just might slow down a bit, is all.)

Dipper listened intently, scanning Gideon over, pulling from him his subtle motions. The way he fidgeted. How he rubbed his sweaty palms over his shorts. His shifting eyes, breaking from Dipper periodically to meet with Pacifica's supervision. He would pause throughout his sentences, taking in shaky breaths, peering around the room. Everyone's attention was on him. Every grown, gritty pair of eyes were on him, piercing through his pudgy skin. By the time he finished what needed to be said, he was a shaking mess of anxiety.

"And, uh-... that's it." Gideon's eyes were pinned on just below Dipper's chin, unable to meet his gaze. There were a few mumbled between the men, carefully processing Gideon's new information with bewilderment. Low, throaty whispers filled the room, enclosing him in a cage of speculation. He shrunk back, hoping to escape. But, how could he? There was no way of taking it back. No way of saving face. This was all his fault. Dipper stared at him, a look of subsequent confusion and surprise pooling over him as he began to walk forward. He slipped his left hand into his pocket, his right still stuck firmly behind his back. After the damage those birds did to his sleeve, he knew it was impossible to hide his cuts so casually anymore. He came four or five feet from Gideon, crouching down to be level with him, his eyes intense.

"Gideon." He began, his tone sturdy and smooth. Gideon shrank back still, his clammy hands clasped behind his back as he bent his head down. Dipper grimaced slightly, seeing his actions in full view. He needed to calm himself before speaking again, or Gideon might begin to panic. He continued.

"This is your doing, then? Everything that's happened?" He stood, gesturing around the room to the multitude of men, barricaded amongst each other. Gideon said nothing, only nodding solemnly.

"... I guess no one would lie about this..." He sucked in a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. He combed his hand through his hair, a strained expression plaguing him.

"And..." He paused, forcing himself to reprompt the question. "How do we stop the birds?" He massaged the bridge of his nose, burying his eyes in the space between his thumb and index, waiting for the response he already knew too well. A slight shuffle was heard, only for Gideon to clear his throat awkwardly.

"... Expose your secret..." He mustered, rubbing his hands together as he rocked on his heels. He felt like a creep.

"Which one?" Dipper muttered through his fingers, still covering his conflicted expression. This caught Gideon by surprise, willing him to snap his head up and look at Dipper.

"Which...?" Gideon had never considered it. It had never come to mind just what he wanted to know about Dipper. Before this, the likelihood of actually receiving information on his double life seemed more like a fantasy than a possibility. His mouth went dry. He had no response. He had no right to demand that sort of information. Not anymore. Gideon looked away, his eyes shooting across the room in shame.

"Hey." Dipper whistled sharply, snapping his fingers at Gideon. "Quit doing that. Geez..." He paused, waiting to regain Gideon's full attention. Once he received it, Dipper let out a sigh.

"We're going to die, Gideon..." He began, shocking Gideon with his bluntness. Gideon's lower lip shook slightly, fear welling up in him.

"We're going to die, Gideon. Unless you cooperate." His tone was cold, sending a shiver down Gideon's spine.