One Week Before... A Prologue

This is a Fanfiction. None of this is canon. All info comes from the Gravity Falls Wiki, the Gravity Falls Roleplay Wiki, and the author’s (no, not Ford Pines :P) imagination. Thank you for your understanding.*

 

Prologue

 

Sarah Pines could not believe her luck.

She was only 23 years old, had never had children before, and was now in labor with TWINS.

“Come on, Sarah. Just one more push and it’s done,” Ian soothed. Sarah internally rolled her eyes and tried not to scream. Her first child, a little girl, had been born five minutes before, and the suspense (not to mention the pain) was killing her. She wanted to hold her oldest child.

But no, her stubborn baby boy was taking his sweet time.

Suddenly it was all over. Sarah’s internal screams stopped, only to be replaced by a newborn boy’s sobs. The nurse scooped up the child, Ian cut the cord, and Sarah…?

Well, Sarah was ready for some well-earned sleep.

* 	*	*

Hours later, Sarah woke up to find Ian peering over the double bassinet, looking into the faces of his children. A boy and a girl.

When Sarah first found out she was pregnant, she almost didn’t believe it. Then, when she had barely gotten over that fact, the knowledge that she was having twins was thrust upon her like an 800 ton hippopotamus. She didn’t know much about twins. Her family didn’t have much of a history, and, as far as she knew, Ian’s didn’t, either. Mystery abounded within the minds of the young couple.

The first thing she did was find out what genders the babies were, to at least relieve herself of that burden. It turned out that she was having fraternal twins- a boy and a girl- so she immediately took it upon herself to find as many baby books as possible. She also went into full first-time-mom-mode, eating only organic foods, staying away from alcohol at all costs, and researching names.

Names, names, names. The names of her first children had to be perfect. She had stayed up many a night to find names, their meanings, what culture they were from, et cetera, et cetera. But none were the right fit.

“How about Zara and Zachariah?” Ian had suggested one day.

“Ugh, and have them sound like dinosaurs? No thank you,” Sarah had snapped.

“Well, they’re better than ‘Sabra’ and ‘Sabin’,” her husband had retorted.

“Okay, Mr Nameberry, what about Fabian and Fabienne? Matching names for the perfect twins.”

“Sarah, those sound like characters in one of your gross romance novels. I want our children to have strong names, like Aaron and Aubrie or something like that.”

“Well, I want them to have traditional names, like Ursula and Garett.”

Suddenly, Ian’s face had lit up. “What if we have names that we can both agree on. Strong and traditional.”

“Okay, I can live with that. Let me look some up.” Sarah had clicked on her computer all night, and finally had a list of top names:

“All right, Ian, I’ve narrowed it down to these three pairs: Mary and Marco, Therese and Thomas, and Jasmine and John,” she had proclaimed the next morning. After a lot of reasoning, they had settled on Therese and Thomas, and they were both happy.

Except now, Ian was standing next to the bassinet, looking thoughtful.

“What is it, honey?” Sarah asked.

“Well, Sarah, I’m looking at these kids, and they don’t really look like a Therese and a Thomas.” Ian rolled the crib next to Sarah’s bed and she, too, looked into the faces of her children. She realized Ian was right.

“What were our backup names?” she asked.

“Mary and Marco, but they don’t really look like those, either.”

“Hmm. Well, I do like the M+M combo, but yeah. Mary and Marco don’t really fit.” Sarah had paused, then, along with Ian, had started reciting M names.

“Marcela.”

“Mark.”

“Mariah.”

“Morris.”

“Magdalena.”

“Masao?”

“Marble?”

Suddenly, they stopped, looked each other in the eyes, and cried in unison,

“Mabel and Mason!”

They looked at the babies again, and Sarah decided to try it out. “Hello, Mabel,” she cooed to her daughter.

The baby smiled.

“She likes it!” Ian whooped. He tried the same thing on their son, and though he didn’t smile, he did squirm a little as if to say, “Yep, that’s me”.

“Mabel and Mason,” Sarah whispered. The perfect names for the perfect--

Wait. Something about her son wasn’t right.

“Ian, what’s that on Mason’s forehead?” she uncertainly asked, pointing at something darker peach that looked like a scar.

“Oh, that? Don’t worry, that’s just his birthmark. One of the nurses joked that it looks like the big dipper,” Ian casually replied. “Come to think of it, it kinda does.”

“Heh. ‘Big Dipper’ Pines. I wonder if that’s what all his little friends will call him,” Sarah joked.

“It might be, Sarah. It just might be.”

 

Chapter One

“Now, who can tell me the answer to problem 12? Anyone? Yes, Mr Pines?” the teacher called. Dipper’s hand shot up in response to the question asked.

“The answer is phototropism in plants,” he replied confidently.

“That is correct, Mr Pines. Now, children, your homework for today is…” Dipper didn’t hear the rest of it, as the teacher’s voice was drowned out by the end period bell and the 25 kids in his class stampeded, first to their lockers, and then to the playground.

Dipper was easily the smartest kid in his class, probably his grade. Although this did have its perks- such as better grades and being on the good side of most of his teachers- it also made him the victim of much ridicule and name-calling.

Such as now.

“Hey, teacher’s pet!” someone called. Dipper felt a strong urge to turn around and see just who had called him teacher’s pet, but years of experience told him to ignore it. He’d been bullied all his life- as a small child, because of his oddly shaped birthmark; as an older kid because of his nerdiness, and now, as a preteen, because of his smarts.

“Hey! Pines! I’m talking to you!” the voice called again. Dipper kept walking, although his face burned with anger and humiliation.

“Pinecone! Nerd! Turn around and look me in the eye!” Dipper rounded on his heel and almost ran into Buck Williams, a stocky kid with close-shaven blonde hair and a reputation as the most feared bully at Eggbert Elementary. Gulping down the lump in his throat, Dipper slowly looked up into the bully’s face.

Buck wore a sneer on his fat face. “You think you’re pretty clever, don’t you, teacher’s pet,” he jeered. “And if your annoying habit of getting every single answer right wasn’t enough, you have the nerve to ignore me when I call for you.”

“I’m not a dog, Buck, and I don't come when people call. Unless they're my allies,” Dipper stammered. Oh brother, he thought. No matter how much he tried, he almost always lost his temper when cornered. It took a lot of willpower not to try and punch Buck in his piggy little face.

“Be careful, Pinecone. Words like that could get you pounded,” Buck growled. His face was dangerously close to Dipper’s, and he raised a fist as if to hit his victim.

Dipper flinched, expecting the blow that was sure to come, when suddenly, a girl’s voice rang out across the basketball court,

“Hey Buck! Leave my brother alone!”

It was Mabel. Dipper hardly dared breathe a sigh of relief, but his sister was always there for him. She was usually the thing that kept him from coming home bruised and battered. Basically, Dipper owed his life (or, at least, his sanity) to his sister.

“Oh hey, Mabel, there you are! Oh, um, this is all just a big misunderstanding, see, your brother’s not in trouble! We were just having a friendly conversation!” Buck exclaimed. Mabel got along well with everyone, but Buck was the one exception. He was always mean to Dipper, so of course she would dislike him. But back to the story.

Buck let Dipper go, rather roughly, but he muttered under his breath, “Next time, Pinecone,” as he walked away.

“Dipper, are you crazy? This is the last day of school, dum-dum. Your last recess as a sixth grader, and you spend it getting pummeled by the bully!” Mabel chided. “Have some self-control!”

“Hey, if it makes you feel any better, we’re having beef-and-carrot stew tonight for dinner,” Dipper reminded her. Mabel smiled and replied,

“Okay, Dippingsauce. I’ll let you off the hook this time, but watch out. If you waste the first recess of seventh grade at Piedmont Middle, I’ll go coo coo bananas.” The twins laughed and set off to enjoy the rest of the school day.

* 	*	*

As Dipper and Mabel stepped into the mudroom of their small home, they were greeted by the delicious smell of roast beef. It had been cooking since the early hours of dawn.

“Alright, bro bro. You get to work with that stew. I’m gonna go set up Mono-chess-abble,” Mabel chirped as she skipped off to begin the game of the twins’ own invention.

Dipper, meanwhile, headed towards the kitchen. Since the twins’ parents had very demanding jobs (Ian was a psychiatrist and Sarah was a Nurse), they usually didn’t have much time to spend with the twins, meaning Dipper, who though younger was more mature, had been making dinner every night since the twins were six years old. It had started with just defrosting frozen pizzas, then had gone on to simple box recipes like hamburger helper, to more complex meals like spaghetti, to even writing his own recipes. Six solid years of practice (he cooked every day, 24 hours a day, seven days a week, four weeks a month, 12 months a year) had also made cooking go from a necessity to a liking to a hobby to an art. Dipper was actually good at cooking, and Mabel often joked that if he didn’t want to start a ghost hunting show, he should be a chef.

As he skinned the carrots, Dipper thought about this coming summer. It was his last summer before his 13th birthday, and he wanted to have the best summer ever. Most of the past summers had been spent with Mabel at various summer camps, which would have been fun if the staff had let him cook the meals instead of being served the terrible camp food. He had been planning on asking his parents if he and Mabel could stay home this summer. They were responsible enough to take care of themselves, and they would have everything they needed right here at home- there was a small deli just down the road, Dipper could cook and do the dishes, Mabel could do laundry, and they could both clean up around the house- and plus, he had already prepared a color coded speech with note cards. So. This was happening.

“Dip! I got Mono-chess-abble set up! You done with the stew yet?” Mabel called from the next room.

“Almost done!” Dipper called back, as he dished the meal out for two people. He always made enough for himself and Mabel, but also made extra for their parents unless there was something else going on that day. He cut two slices of bread from the loaf he had bought the day before and buttered them, then balanced the two bowls on a serving tray and brought them into the living room. He set one down by Mabel and another by himself and, after the usual pre-game routine of eating one bite of dinner, began to play.

Mono-chess-abble was what it sounds like- a combination of Monopoly, Chess, and Scrabble. The twins had invented it one rainy day when they didn’t want to play a pre-made game. The rules were as follows: You play a game of Monopoly, but every time you land on a street space you follow the directions for that space, then you move a piece in order on the chess board, and then you spell the street name backwards on the Scrabble board. The twist is that you only have ten seconds to do all of this. The game ends in one of three ways: either in Monopoly, one player goes bankrupt; in chess, a player makes a checkmate; or in Scrabble, the board is filled up. At first the twins had been really bad at the game, but after playing it over and over again, they were pros.

This was how Ian and Sarah had found their kids when they came home, playing their frankenstein genius game and eating delicious stew in the living room.

“Hey, kiddos! How’s it going?” Ian asked as he sat down on the couch to rest from a long day of psychiatristing. The kids relied pretty good, and he nodded in an understanding way. The kids loved their dad- because the family was so busy during the day, they bonded in the evenings. There was just one thing about their parents that made Dipper a bit annoyed- despite how close-knit the family was, they never seemed to notice that he did not like people calling him by his real name.

“Dad! It’s going awesome!” Mabel cried, running to her father and flinging her arms around him in one of her big Mabel bear hugs. Mabel was good at giving hugs, although some, like Dipper, could scarcely breathe when she gave them.

"That's good, kiddo," Ian laughed. He was a rather large man, big and beefy and strong. His hair, like Dipper's and Mabel's, was dark brown, but his eyes were blue and he had a rather large nose. He had a deep, booming voice that was commanding but not unloving, and when he laughed, Dipper often felt that he was going to go deaf.

"Hello, hello, my precious family," Sarah Pines crooned as she came through the back door. Sarah was small and blonde, with brown eyes and a small nose. She was as unlike her husband in looks as she was in personality- Ian was fun loving and short-tempered, and she was serious yet patient. But their love for their kids and each other had stopped them from breaking apart.

"Hey mom," Dipper smiled as Sarah bent to give him a quick kiss. Dipper was especially close to his mom, a children's nurse at the local hospital. She grinned in reply and went to sit down by her husband.

"Kids, we are so happy you guys get on well together. I mean, inventing your own board game is almost unheard of," Ian laughed.

"Thanks, dad. Um, by the way, there's something I've been meaning to ask you," Dipper said. He exhaled nervously, and the palms of his hands began to sweat as they always did when he was nervous or anxious. "I've been thinking... you guys are always away at work, right? And every summer, we've been hauled off to yet another summer camp. Well, I've been thinking- if each summer camp is two weeks long, and they all cost roughly $350, and there are two and a half months in summer, and each month is about 4 weeks long, that's roughly 5 summer camps for a total of about $1,750." Dipper took another deep breath. "So I thought, what's an easy way for mom and dad to not miss work and still not have to pay for us to go to summer camp? I reveal... Plan Dipper and Mabel are Finally Old Enough to Stay Home by Themselves, or P.D.M.F.O.E.S.H.B.T.!" Dipper cried as he pulled a curtain off of the wall across from the couch where Mabel, Ian and Sarah were seated. "I also made these informative packets," he added, giving a thick folder to both of them.

Sarah chuckled quietly to herself. "That's my son," she muttered as she looked at the packet on her lap.

Ian was also looking at the packet, but he was not laughing. "Son... you too, Mabel... there's something your mother and I have been meaning to tell you.

Chapter Two

Mabel sat enraptured as Ian began his speech.

"Kids, as much as we love this idea, we've..." Ian looked at his wife for reassurance. "We've already planned your summer."

"But dad! What about-" Ian cut off his son with a finger.

"Mason, chill out! I know you're concerned about money, but we have a plan. First of all, do you kids remember your great uncle Stan?"

Mabel smiled. How could she not remember her uncle? He didn't often come to visit them, and the twins had never been to his house, but he was imprinted in all of their minds. He was Ian's uncle, big and strong as well, with salt-and-pepper grey hair, ice-colored eyes, and a bountiful knowledge of various scams, although he was beloved by all. He seemed to like Mabel the most of all, maybe because they had such similar personalities. Giggling quietly, she remembered Stan's last visit when she was 9- the family had been eating dinner when Stan had reached for a roll and a wad of cash had fallen out of his sleeve. Everyone had frozen in silence for half a second when she, Stan and Dipper had all gone for the money at the same time and ended up covered in potato soup. Smiling fondly, Mabel turned back to her father.

"Well, you are twelve years old, now, and we have been concerned that summer camps are too bland. We brought it up with Stan on the phone and he said- he said- he said you kids could stay with him over the summer." This drew a cry of dismay from Dipper, who, Mabel knew, had been planning his elaborate stay-at-home plot since winter break, and who, though loving him all the same, wasn't Stan's biggest fan.

"Mason, we know you wanted to stay home by yourself, but this isn't the safest neighborhood, and we would just die if anything happened to you or Mabel," Sarah soothed. Dipper flinched at the sound of his real name but remained silent. "Please give Stan a chance.

***

"Wow, spending the summer at Grunkle Stan's house sounds like a perfect summer! Don't you think so, Dip? Dip?" Mabel asked as the twins were getting ready for bed. Dipper remained silent. "Aw, bro-bro, what's up?"

"It's just that I thought we were finally old enough to stay home alone. I guess not."

"Look, Dippy, I get it. You're scared. But trust me: I googled Gravity Falls, and guess what? NOTHING. SHOWED. UP!!! Ooh, Mystery! Am I right?" Mabel laughed at her own joke, but her brother was still quiet. "Hey. Something did show up, actually. Something called 'The Mystery Shack'. Maybe Grunkle Stan can take us to it, or something."

Dipper laughed a little. "You always did love roadside attractions, didn't you," he smiled. Mabel smiled back.

Later that night, as she lay awake thinking about the trip she was going to take, she couldn't help but think of all the crazy adventures she was going to get into. Little did she know how crazy those adventures would get...

Chapter Three

Two Days Later...

"Mason, are you packed? Your dad is going to leave for the bus stop in five minutes!" Sarah called to her son, who was still sitting in the middle of his room with an empty duffel bag. The past two days had been filled with begging, pleading, and tempers flaring over the "Gravity Falls incident". His plan was to stay there until Ian and Mabel had no choice but to leave without him.