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Fistbump 2: Unspeakable (a Pinecest story)	By : Edward_or_Ford Category: +G through L > Gravity Falls Views: 21283 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gravity Falls or its characters. I will not earn any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
(Author's note: Well, *that* was a long hiatus for this story! But 17 months later after Chapter 10, the story is finally finished. I'll be posting the remaining chapters over the next week or so. Don't know if anyone's still reading this, but here you go, anyways!)
Stan was just settling into his favorite armchair, his head turning towards the front door as it opened. Dipper and Mabel slowly came in off the front porch from the cold air outside. They had remained outdoors for only a moment after his strategic retreat. He directed a pointed look at them.
There was a short pause. “We’re-” Dipper began, glancing with cautious optimism at his twin, “We’re going to the attic. We’re going to try to talk about this … right, Mabel?”
Mabel turned her head to Dipper and nodded. Though her face was expressionless, Stan noticed that she responded quickly and made eye contact with her brother.
“Hey kid,” Stan called to Dipper. “You should have a dose of your Methadone first. Stay here for a minute while I get it.” He struggled out of his chair and waved to Mabel. “Go on up, Pumpkin,” he told her with a grin. “Maybe I’ll coat his meds in that … what’s it called … Smile Dip stuff? Think that’ll help him?” He saw a twinkle in Mabel’s eyes, mirroring Dipper’s hopeful expression. He thought he could detect a hint of a smile as she glanced at Dipper, then she turned and went up the staircase.
After returning to the living room with a pill and a glass of water, Stan eyed Dipper as the medication was quickly downed. “How’re you feeling, kid?” he asked.
“Better, thanks,” Dipper replied, his gaze locked on the stairs.
“Hey!” Stan said sharply, snapping his fingers in front of Dipper’s face. Startled, the teen focused on his great uncle. “Whatever you think you want to happen, just .. be careful, okay? You’ve both been through a lot, and all that crap doesn’t just go away because your parents aren’t here right now,” he explained, hoping he was appearing supportive and understanding.
Dipper nodded. “I got it, Grunkle Stan.” Stan squeezed his nephew’s shoulder, then watched as Dipper trotted to the attic stairs and climbed them quickly.
The old man shook his head sadly. The twins were in an unimaginably difficult position for two young teenagers. He hoped they would both realize that it would be better for them to let go of their forbidden affair, and the sooner, the better. But there was no point in beating them over the head with his opinion on that: they already knew his feelings on the matter of their relationship. He sunk back into the chair and rested the side of his head in his palm, frustrated at his inability to really help them.
“So … “ Dipper asked slowly, his shoulders rigid and hands in his pockets. He waited awkwardly, leaning back against the closed door to their attic bedroom. “Wh- … what happens now?”.
Mabel twisted a handful of her hair as she sat on the edge of her bed. Then she looked up, a conflicted mixture of anxiety and hope in her expression.. “You could … come sit beside me?”
Dipper crossed the floor and stopped a few feet away from Mabel. How do I handle this? he thought, wondering what the best way would be to navigate between the eggshells of their relationship. He decided to perch himself a discreet distance from Mabel with his hands clasped in his lap, his uncertainty of how to proceed still apparent.
After a long moment, Mabel gently placed the back of her hand on the bedspread between herself and Dipper. Glancing up to see a brave, tiny smile on Mabel’s face. Dipper gulped and lightly placed his sweating palm in hers.
Instantly, both twins experienced a surge of hormones at the touch, the first affectionate contact between them in months. Their fingers carefully locked together, then gripped tightly. Dipper drew a shaky lungful of air. “I’ve … really missed you,” he confessed quietly.
Mabel could not prevent the sudden hitch in her breathing. “I … miss you … too …” she whispered between quiet gasps.
Dipper’s insides ached to see the moisture building up in his sister’s eyes, the quivering of her lip. He immediately reached across to cup the side of her face, his thumb intercepting the first salty trickle that rolled down her cheek. His vision blurred from his own tears that fought to escape his eyes.
Slowly the twins leaned towards one another, their hands still joined between them, both of them struggling to not buckle under the tremendous weight of the moment. Then their lips brushed against each other, and they were unable to hold it back any longer. Mabel began keening, lightly at first, then harder as she lost all control. Dipper’s cries were no less intense. Pulling themselves closely into one another, they crushed the sides of their heads together and wept unabashedly, their bodies shaking from the sobs that wracked their chests.
Neither of them had any idea how many minutes passed as they held one another. They had spent over three months living physically close but divided by a cavernous distance. That chasm was the opposite of this brief but complete intimacy, and the literal lifetime of mutual comfort and support they had shared before. There was no hurry for the healing moment to end. As the sobs and cries faded to sniffles and hiccups, and finally to deep sighs of relief, Dipper and Mabel simply clutched each other securely, feeling as though they might never let go.
“I love you, Dipper,” Mabel murmured into his ear.
Dipper squeezed harder for a moment. “I love you too,” he whispered back with sincerity. He relaxed his hold and caressed his lips on Mabel’s neck. She gasped softly as Dipper backed off slowly and gently placed small kisses on her cheek and jaw. Soon his mouth reached hers, and this time when their lips touched, they hungrily forced them together.
Repressed desires boiled to the surface. Mabel pushed Dipper down to the bed as the feverish passion of their kisses continued to escalate. Fingers ran firmly through hair and over clothed arms and backs while they made noises of loving affection and growing arousal.
Mabel’s head inched back, her trademark huge smile plastered on her face as her lips parted from Dipper’s. “Holy guacamole dip, Dip!” she panted, gazing down into her brother’s eyes. “That was amazing!”
It had been far too long since Dipper had heard a silly turn of phrase from his sister, to witness happiness and joy in her again. He completely failed to suppress an outburst of relieved laughter. Mabel gave him a mock-angry stare for a second, then smirked and lightly smothered his sheepish grin.
After several more short kisses, Mabel sighed in satisfaction and relaxed completely atop Dipper, allowing him to hold her in a loose, comforting embrace.
“I think we really needed this,” Dipper mumbled contentedly into Mabel’s neck while lightly stroking her hair and back.
Mabel nodded. “Yup-pers!” she replied quietly. “Total agreement with you there, Broseph.” She took a deep breath and let it all back out. “This feels too good to have held back for so long!”
Dipper nodded back lightly. “Yeah. It was pretty lucky for us that Mom and Dad went home without us this morning.” He tenderly kissed Mabel’s neck, eliciting a soft hum from his twin. “I don’t want to think about how bad that return trip would have been today if Stan hadn’t let us stay.”
“It would have been awful!” Mabel agreed, considering in her head how the long trip in the family’s minivan would likely have gone. “We were not ready for the great ‘Van’ish Inquisition. The ‘Stan’ish Inquisition is a way better option!” Dipper chuckled as she lifted and turned her head back to look down on him, their noses rubbing together. “But now we’ll be ready by the end of next week.”
Dipper tried to banish his feelings of concern that immediately flooded over him. “I hope so,” he replied, averting his eyes.
“Hey!” Mabel scolded him playfully. “You just said you didn’t want to think about it. So stop your thinkin’! We’ve got more than a whole week before we go back, so we’ve got plenty of time!” A gentle kiss landed on Dipper’s lips. “Things are going to be so different when we get back to Piedmont.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Dipper morosely.
A questioning look crossed Mabel’s face. “Yeah you know … what, Dip? … I don’t get it.”
“Going back home, after having this week,” Dipper replied, still not looking directly at Mabel. “It’s just gonna be rough. You know, when … when we have to go back to the way things were.”
Mabel’s questioning expression froze. Moments passed before Dipper brought himself back and realized his twin had fallen silent. He tried to read her face.
“The way … things were?” Mabel repeated slowly, her face inscrutable.
An alarm began to sound in Dipper’s brain. His sister was normally an emotional open book. It was fairly simple for complete strangers to know her moods, and ordinarily it was child’s play for him since he knew her so well. But at that moment, Mabel was blank.
“Well … yeah,” Dipper said with caution. “I mean … it’s great that we have this time here … but when we get home …” Dipper’s voice trailed off as he saw the worry growing in Mabel’s features.
“Wait,” Mabel said, pushing herself up and sitting astride Dipper. “... aren’t we … changing things here?” she asked carefully. “I thought this-” she waved forward and backward, indicating their closeness together, “-meant that all the poop we’ve been through is over ... doesn’t it?”
“Absolutely! There’s no poop, this is a poop-free zone, Mabel!” Dipper agreed, forcing a smile and trying to bring some levity back to their talk.
It didn’t work. Mabel quickly glanced around the attic of the Shack. “This is a poop-free zone, you’re saying,” she repeated in a neutral tone. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then her focus returned to Dipper. “What exactly do you think we’re doing here, Dipper?”
“Uh … um ...” Dipper stammered, “... m- making up with each other?”
Mabel struggled to stay positive. “Okay, I’d like that ... I want us to make up, but-”
“I want that too!” Dipper interrupted her urgently, reaching up quickly to palm Mabel’s face in his hands. “And we can! All the time we’ve wanted to spend together, all the things we’ve wanted to, you know ... do together … we have the chance now! There’s nothing to stop us here!”
“But … you can’t want to make up if you … if you don’t want to stay made up,” she replied, fumbling for the right words. “And that means that we stay made up when we go back down to California.” Mabel took Dipper’s hands from her face and squeezed them while staring down into his eyes, hoping she didn’t hear the response she feared. “Right?”
Dipper squeezed Mabel’s hands in return, wanting very much for her to not be unreasonable. “Mabes … when we get back home, you know we … we can’t do any of this stuff there!”
“Oh for …” Mabel cried out in frustration, yanking her hands free and climbing off of Dipper as fast as she could. She stood and turned to face the bed as Dipper scrambled to sit up. “I don’t believe this! You’re already planning on breaking up with me! Again!”
“Mabel, I would never break up with you!” Dipper exclaimed, trying to stand up off the bed.
She leaned in aggressively, forcing Dipper back down. “You already have once before! Doesn’t any of this sound familiar to you? How could you forget what you did that night?”
Dipper spread his hands “Of course I remember that night!” he shot back defensively. “It was the same night that Mom and Dad came home early and came this close to catching us naked together in your room! You think that was okay?”
“Don’t be stupid!” fired back Mabel. “We didn’t get caught, but you still decided to tell me we couldn’t be together anymore! You decided we wouldn’t be anything to each other anymore! How was that not breaking up with me?”
“I never … I mean ... “ Dipper sputtered desperately, “... I never meant for you to feel that I didn’t want to be with you, or that you would feel like I broke up with you! Mabel …” He took a deep breath, “… I love you!”
Mabel blew air through her lips derisively. “Yeah, right! You got a heck of a way of showing it!” she grunted as she folded her arms over her chest. “How can you say you love me when you don't want to experience what it’s all about?”
“I don't want to experience it?” Dipper argued, sounding hurt. “I thought … Mabel, I thought there was more to us than just … physical stuff. Is that the only thing you miss about our relationship? Kissing? And … and sex?”
“Of course not!” Mabel cried, taking several backwards steps. “You don’t get it! Love means being there for each other, in every way we need each other! Sometimes … okay yeah, sometimes that means we do the physical stuff, but … that’s only part of it! We need to be able to talk, and feel … and support, and … and confide … and protect, and … AUUUGGGH!” She buried her face in her hands.
Dipper slouched meekly. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand, Mabel. I’ve … I’ve always been there for you!” he said softly.
Mabel gripped her elbows, holding herself tightly. “Not since September, you haven’t!” she cried. “Ever since that night you got trapped under the bed, you’ve been too scared to do anything with me at all! We’re like strangers under the same roof!”
“I never-” Dipper began, then stopped and thought for a moment, remembering his own hurt feelings and desire for isolation he’d felt since everything blew up between them. “Okay … I see what you’re saying … and I’m sorry. I can … I can do better! I can figure out how to go back to being a really good brother-”
“I need you to be more than my brother, Dipper!” Mabel exclaimed miserably. “A lover isn’t just a brother! I need more than that from you now! Just being my brother …” She hung her head as her voice trailed off.
For a long, uncomfortable moment, neither twin said anything. Dipper slowly stood and stepped close to Mabel, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Mabel, please believe me when I tell you that I do love you. More than I ever have! And I’m here, right now, telling you that no matter where we are, I’m always going to feel that way!”
He paused awkwardly as his sister’s eyes remained on the floor. “But … when we aren’t in a safe place, if doing something or saying the wrong thing could really mess things up for us … I don’t like it, but I have to bury how I really feel! And so do you! It’s just too much of a risk!”
Mabel twisted out from under Dipper’s hand, turning her back and marching off to the other side of the room. Dipper kept after her. “C’mon Mabel! We talked about this with Grunkle Stan at the end of the summer! If we don’t stop, we’ll get caught, and then there’s no telling what Mom and Dad might do! We have to make it look like we’re just a normal brother and sister when we’re at home!”
“I can’t do that!” screeched Mabel as she spun around to face Dipper. “Maybe you haven’t been paying attention, but I haven’t been doin’ so hot since summer ended!” Her composure continued to crumble. “I knew the first morning I couldn’t do it! I was only acting like I was okay! And I couldn’t leave it alone when Daddy and Mama went out to their Bible study! And then everything … just went kablooey, and then ...“ She sobbed violently and stamped one foot hard. “It’s only been four months, Dipper! How are we supposed to keep going like this for four more YEARS?!? Or LONGER?!”
Dipper looked pleadingly at Mabel. “I’ll help you, Mabel. We’ve … somehow we’ve got to get through this!”
“It’s too hard!” she said miserably. “This is torture, to be so close to you, but not able to reach you … to know that we had so much, and it’s gone, but also it’s not, and you’re … you're right there EVERY SINGLE DAY …” Mabel balled her fists at her sides. “Maybe you can do this, but I can’t!”
“Yes, you can!” Dipper replied loudly, starting to lose patience with his sister, thinking that she wasn’t really making her best effort to get past this. Irritation seeped into his voice. “Mabel please, you have to try!”
“I HAVE tried!!” Mabel almost screamed back. “I can’t stand it! And if you can, well … maybe I’m not as strong as you are! Or …” her tone turned pitiful, “or maybe you just don’t feel the same way about me as I do about you!”
Darkness flashed across Dipper’s face. “Seriously, Mabel?” he fumed. “You don’t know what I’m feeling inside! I did what I had to do to protect us, so that I didn’t lose you for real, and …” He tried and failed to suppress a roar of exasperation, grabbing two fistfuls of his thick hair and pulling hard in frustration as he paced to the opposite side of the room.
The instant the next thought popped into his head, he knew he shouldn’t say it aloud. But his adolescent anger got the better of him. “I got the shit kicked out of me over what happened between us! If anyone’s suffered because of all this, it’s me! Do you ever consider that?” He bowed his head and turned his back. “If you don’t think I love you, maybe you should just … find yourself another boyfriend,” he growled bitterly.
Silence was the only reply he got, and he reluctantly turned around. Mabel’s face was a mask of horrified disgust. Several heartbeats went by, her mouth opening and closing, her entire body quivering in fear and rage. Finally she found her voice. “How could you say that?” she squeaked. “How could you even think that about me?”
“You kinda said the same thing,” Dipper grumbled, a part of his stubborn nature refusing to back down.
“What?!” Mabel shot back, almost hysterical. “You think that what I said was even close to-” Her mouth snapped shut, fury burning in her eyes. “You know what? Forget it! Just forget it! I’m done!” She stormed past an immobile Dipper towards the attic door. After throwing it open and stepping over the threshold, she stopped short and turned back, marching towards Dipper’s side of the room
Dipper sighed with resignation. “You’re done with what, Mabel?”
His sister ignored him, going straight to Dipper’s suitcase and proceeded to begin rifling through his things. He made no effort to stop her. “What’re you looking for?” he asked sullenly, again receiving no response.
Finally she grabbed the suitcase and flipped it upside down, spilling the contents across the floor. She glared at Dipper dangerously, her voice dripping with venom. “Where’s the Oxy? Where are your pills?”
All traces of Dipper’s selfish demeanour immediately disappeared, along with all the color from his face. “Mabel, just wait a min-”
“Where ARE they!?” she demanded hotly.
“I don’t have them!” he hissed, trying to keep his voice down even as he felt panic boiling up inside him. “I gave them all to Stan!”
“BULLSHIT!!” she fired back, shocking Dipper further with her extremely rare use of profanity. “You must have kept some back from him, hid them somewhere else! I want them NOW!”
“I don’t have any, I swear!” Dipper pleaded, thankful he was being truthful. He was frantically trying to think of how to defuse this increasingly out-of-control situation.
Mabel coldly sized up the sincerity in her brother’s expression. “Fine!” she barked, and directed her attention up to the exposed rafters and beams above them in the attic. “That’s plenty high! I’ll just go find a rope, loop it around one of those things, tie one end around my neck, and that’ll be that! Now get out of my way!” She again strode purposefully towards the door.
Dipper caught her by the elbow. “Mabel! Please!” he begged, as she tugged her arm impatiently. “Just … you’ve just got to stop for a second!” he exclaimed, trying to readjust his hold with both hands. With a determined grunt and a strong twist of her arm, Mabel broke his grip and bolted for the door.
“Mabel NO!” Dipper yelled, lunging after her in a desperate attempt to tackle her. But he only managed to grab the shoulder of her sweater, and she stayed on her feet.
“Let go!” Mabel snarled as she reached to wrench his hand away. Dipper managed to close his grip tightly on her wrist, spinning Mabel around to face him.
I just need her to stop and calm down. She has to listen to me, he thought. “Mabel …” he implored through gritted teeth, trying to snare her other arm as she violently twisted her body, attempting to free herself.
Before he could get hold, Mabel swung her free arm around to hit Dipper, the flat of her hand landing solidly on his bicep. “Let GO!” she repeated louder, thrashing wildly. Again, Dipper could not block Mabel’s swing, a second strike catching him painfully on his shoulder.
Having no intention of hitting back, Dipper quickly determined he had to force Mabel to the floor, where he hoped he might be able to safely restrain her. He grunted with effort as he shifted all his weight to his opposite leg to knock them both off balance, and pulled down on her one wrist as hard as he could. The move worked, and in a second or two they would both be off their feet.
But he also succeeded in throwing off Mabel’s aim, just as her free arm was cocked for a third blow.
“I said let me GO!!” she screamed, swinging with all her strength, intending to pound Dipper's shoulder again. But as she started being pulled off balance, Mabel's open palm instead struck the side of Dipper's face at full power, connecting flush across his cheek from jaw to temple.
Dipper saw the impact coming, but had no time to even brace himself. He heard a sickening “smack” noise, and a very brief flash of intense pain exploded in his head as his concussion-sensitive brain was rattled inside his skull. The sight of Mabel's enraged face in front of him was quickly overwhelmed by blinding light, and then there was nothing.
From downstairs, Stan had been hearing the rising volume in the kids’ voices. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it was obvious things weren’t going well. Then their bedroom door at the top of the stairs was opened, and he heard Mabel yelling frantically and swearing.
That was enough for Stan. As he willed his aching muscles to propel him up the stairs as fast as they could get him there, he heard sounds of physical struggle, along with Mabel screaming for Dipper to let her go. He appeared in the doorway just in time to see Mabel deliver a devastatingly hard slap to the side of Dipper’s face. The crack of skin striking skin echoed around the attic as the twins both fell into a heap.
“Jeez!” he shouted, leaning over and easily pulling Mabel up off the floor. One glance at Dipper, splayed out on his back, told him all that he needed to know. Shit! She knocked the kid out cold!
Stan needed to attend to him, but he also had to deal with Mabel. His niece's eyes were hysterical, but the rest of her was frozen. She’s in shock, he thought. Good, at least she probably won’t do anything more at this point. She didn't resist as he firmly lowered her to sit on the floor. “Don’t move!” he ordered directly into her face, then turned to crouch over Dipper.
He carefully slid a hand under the boy’s head and checked his breathing, verifying that it was regular, although a bit shallow. A moment later, Stan exhaled in relief as Dipper’s eyes fluttered open and he began panting harder. His stare was glassy, and he started to thrash. “M- … Mabel …” he moaned.
“Woah woah woah,” Stan said softly, carefully but firmly holding Dipper down and keeping his nephew’s head from shaking from side to side. “You got your bell rung pretty good there, kid! Just keep still.” Dipper quickly relaxed. “Good … good.” Stan’s gruff voice managed to sound amazingly soothing.
Dipper's eyes darted back and forth. “Mabel?” he called out louder, then winced as he squeezed his face muscles tightly in obvious pain.
“She's right here,” Stan replied reassuringly. Keeping his support of Dipper's head steady, he shuffled himself around so that he was no longer kneeling between the twins. “Mabel's not going anywhere.” He turned his head and directly addressed the girl. “Isn't that right?” he asked pointedly.
Mabel’s expression had not changed. Sitting with her back against the wall beside the door, she was hugging her knees tightly to her chest and was staring wide-eyed out the small window on the other side of the room. She seemed to be unaware that she was gingerly cradling the hand that she had hit Dipper with. Still, she nodded in reply to Stan’s question.
Stan gave his head a shake. Damn, these two are quite a pair, he mused sadly.
Mabel couldn’t watch as Grunkle Stan helped Dipper to his feet. Instead she buried herself in Sweatertown, forced to listen to Dipper’s groans of pain as he shuffled his way to his bed, supported by their uncle.
How has it gotten this bad? she wondered. Her hand was throbbing badly, every beat of her heart sending a jab of pain from her wrist right up to the tips of all four of her fingers. But she knew her discomfort paled to what Dipper was going through. I got angry again. And I hurt Dipper. Again! Mabel idly pondered if this cycle of bitterness and injury was all that she and her brother were destined to experience together.
Obliquely, she was aware of Stan’s uncharacteristically gentle ministrations on the other side of the room. “Easy, kid,” Stan said quietly as Dipper sat down carefully. “Just take it slow. Swing your legs up while I hold your noggin.” A split-second pitiful whine escaped as Dipper laid down with his uncle’s assistance. “You should rest. And you’ll need something for pain. I know you’re trying to get off them, but now’s when you should take one or two of your Oxycontin pills.” He addressed his niece over his shoulder, not turning around. “Sweetie, Dipper’s pain meds are in my office. Go down and look in-”
“No!” moaned Dipper urgently, his hand gripping Stan’s arm.
The old man looked down with a crooked smile. “Don’t be a hero, kid! A couple of your Oxy now won’t bring back your addiction, not as long as-”
Dipper weakly shook his head. “Not that … it’s just …wherever you’re keeping the pills …” He voice dropped to a whisper, but it was still loud enough to carry across the attic. “... you can’t let Mabel know where they are!”
The old man turned to look at Mabel and her withdrawn state, and then slouched as he understood the reason for the fight before he got upstairs. “Ah, crap!” he muttered. “All right, I’ll get them. Suck it up for a minute, okay?” he told Dipper, patting his nephew’s shoulder. At Dipper’s small nod, Stan straightened and then approached Mabel. He eased himself down onto the floor and leaned back against the wall beside the despondent girl. Her head remained buried inside her oversized knitted sweater.
Stan broke the short silence. “You gotta talk to me, Pumpkin,” he said softly. “Tell me what’s going on.”
The sweater-encased lump shrugged. “Nothing,” came the glum reply.
Grasping her lightly by the back of the neck, Stan gave Mabel a little shake. “Not good enough, you little munchkin,” he growled with good-natured admonishment. Then more seriously, he gently continued, “Look … I need to know that you’re safe right now.”
Mabel sighed. “I’m not gonna do anything, Grunkle Stan,” she mumbled, her voice muffled from within the thick garment. “I let myself feel happy. Big mistake! Like I said before, when I don’t keep all the stupid junk stuffed inside, everything just comes back on me, only worse.” Her head slowly emerged until the neck of the sweater snapped down below her chin. “Then .... when I get frustrated, I guess I say dumb stuff … And do even dumber stuff.” She took a deep breath and released it in a “whoosh”, finally half-looking at her uncle. “I’m okay now.”
Stan grunted noncommittally. “Good,” he replied, struggling back to his feet. “But just the same, you’re hanging out with me for the rest of this morning, all right?” he said, extending a hand to Mabel. She nodded once and took the offered hand, allowing Stan to pull her upright.
He turned back to Dipper. “I'll be back up in a minute, kid.” The boy moaned back a quiet acknowledgement.
Mabel vacantly stood beside her uncle, her throbbing hand tucked into an armpit, the other hand occupied with kneading a large quantity of her long brown hair. In her peripheral vision she could see Stan waiting, giving her an opportunity to say something to her brother.
But she couldn't do it. Without another word or a look back, she shuffled out the door and down the stairs.
Dropping limply to the sofa, she set her mind to the task of once again building up emotional barriers in her brain. The walls seemed to be getting weaker every time they collapsed.
Dipper was hurting almost as much because of Mabel’s rejection of him as he was from his new head trauma. When Stan reappeared upstairs minutes later with two Oxycontin tablets, he didn’t hesitate to accept them, and he fell asleep quickly after the effects of the pills kicked in. The familiar opiate high had thankfully faded almost entirely by the time he woke up in the afternoon.
He made his way downstairs, hungry and a bit woozy, and with only a small headache. Stan verified that it was very doubtful Dipper had suffered any additional concussion damage, and checked the welt that had grown on the side of the boy’s face from the force of Mabel's slap. Dipper agreed with his uncle that there was little benefit to seeing a doctor, and doing so would only raise difficult questions as to how the injury occurred.
Once again, Dipper was forced to figuratively tip-toe around Mabel. She obviously wanted to be alone, and he gave her the space. While his sister half-heartedly began knitting yet another sweater with the new yarn she’d received for Christmas, Dipper slouched over his new tablet. It was a very quiet afternoon in the Shack: what little conversation that occurred was initiated by Stan between himself and his niece or nephew.
The evening meal was equally awkward. Mabel retreated upstairs after she had eaten a small amount off of her plate, leaving Dipper alone with his uncle.
Stan pushed a Methadone capsule and two Tylenols across the table. “How are the cravings now?” he asked.
Dipper shrugged as he popped the pills into his mouth and washed them down. “Not too bad,” he replied unenthusiastically. “I don’t think they’re worse than yesterday.”
“Good,” Stan nodded. “I bet you’ll have it all under control by next weekend. Even after your little adventure this morning.” Dipper sighed and leaned on his elbow lower over his plate, idly moving the food around with his fork. Stan lightly cuffed Dipper on his non-bruised shoulder. “So what happened up there?”
Dipper swallowed another mouthful of water. “The same thing that happened back home, a couple of weeks after school started. She flipped out when I said that nothing can happen between the two of us when we go back to Piedmont. Why can’t-” Dipper wearily massaged his temples, “... why can’t she understand that this is the only way we can be together?”
The question hung between them. Stan adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. “Dipper … I don’t think it’s her fault. I don’t know that she can do what you’re asking her to do.” At Dipper’s confused look, Stan continued, “I’m sure you can control the way you’re feeling. Well, you think you can control it. Enough to get by, anyways. But Mabel’s not like that, kid! She’s an open book, and she knows it. You can’t expect her to be able to just bottle everything up inside her.”
“But … but she has to-” Dipper stammered.
“She can’t!” Stan interjected. “C’mon, kid! You’ve got a brain in that head! Listen to her. Look at her! Look at everything that’s happened since the summer. Don’t you see how it’s affecting her? Can you say that either of you are better off now than you were before your birthday? Do you honestly see any way it gets any better, if you keep going the way you’re going?”
Dipper’s face was quivering, but to his credit his voice was steady. “Grunkle Stan, are you … are you saying that I need to completely … break things off with Mabel? Just … give up on us?”
Stan’s eyes blinked closed for a long moment, and he took a pained breath. “... Yeah … jeez, I feel terrible about this, but I guess that is what I’m saying,” he replied, looking back at his nephew’s crushed expression.
“At the end of summer, you two agreed with me that you had to back things off. Now I see what happened. You may not be a couple, but both of you really still believe you need to be together. You’re handling it differently, but it’s the same problem.” Stan reached out and put a hand on Dipper’s shoulder. “You don’t have to stop caring about her. She’ll still be your sister, your best friend, probably the most important thing in the world to you. You’re supposed to love your sister.” His grip tightened. “But you’re not supposed to be in love with her. Having each other that way is never going to work. I tried to tell Mabel a few days ago, now I’m telling you. You’ve got to … move on! You both have to!”
Part of Dipper was furious at his uncle for the things he was saying, and wanted to lash out. No! He can’t tell us to break up! We love each other, and Stan is NOT going to break us apart! But another part saw the terrible logic of Stan’s suggestion. But what if we can’t get past all this crap? What then? He hated to admit it to himself, but he could see some wisdom in what Stan was telling him.
But while he obliquely considered how he might accept the notion of letting go of how he felt, he was more concerned with his twin. “But … what about how this would affect Mabel? This morning she went crazy when she only thought I was going to break up with her. What would she do if I really meant it? She threatened to kill herself just this morning!”
Stan was now less sure of how good his advice was. “I’ll be there with you, to keep her safe,” he said, trying to sound reassuring. “Look … don’t do anything tonight. I think you both should have a night’s rest before you try to work anything out. I’ll think of a way to soften the blow. We’ll get a fresh start in the morning, you know?”
“Yeah, okay,” Dipper said. He scratched his arm nervously. “I don’t think sleeping in the same room as Mabel tonight is going to be very comfortable for her.” Or for me either, he thought. “Maybe I could sleep in Great Uncle Ford’s room?”
“Good idea,” agreed Stan. “Your parents left the bed made up, so that’s no problem.”
They walked together towards the formerly-secret room that Soos had discovered the previous year. Dipper stopped short at the base of the staircase. “I need to get some stuff from the attic, and … I need to say goodnight to Mabel,” he said quietly.
Stan turned. “Want me to come up with you?” he asked carefully.
Dipper shook his head. “I’ll be fine, Grunkle Stan.”
He started up the stairs. “We’ll be fine,” he amended, talking to himself. Dipper needed some time to think, and retreating to a room of his own seemed like the best idea. I don’t know if Stan’s right, but I can’t dismiss it, he thought sadly. I can’t imagine having to destroy everything Mabel and I have together, but maybe I have to.
As he reached the top step, he hoped that the two of them could complete a brief interaction together without further drama. When his light knocks went unanswered, Dipper opened the bedroom door. Mabel was turned away from the door and laying on her side, arms tucked under her head.
“Hey, uh ... I know my being up here would be … kinda weird for you,” said Dipper after he stepped to the middle of the floor. “I thought I’d sleep downstairs. Just for tonight, okay?” Mabel didn’t reply, but she nodded her head. “Okay,” Dipper repeated gently. After he gathered up his sleeping shorts, a notepad and pen, and two books, he glanced with discomfort towards his sister’s bed. “Well … I guess … I’ll see you tomorrow,” he mumbled as he shuffled back towards the door.
Mabel half turned over as Dipper reached the other side of the room. “Dipper?” she called out meekly.
Dipper stopped with his hand on the door knob. “Yeah?” he replied, turning his head back towards her.
“I … I’m sorry,” Mabel stammered, looking down. “... Is your head okay?”
Shrugging his shoulders, Dipper rubbed his head without thinking. “It’ll be fine. And … I’m sorry too.” A corner of his mouth twitched. “Is your hand okay?”
Mabel half-grimaced. “Yeah.” She managed to return Dipper’s nearly imperceptible smile. “You have a really hard head, you know?”
“Thanks … I think,” he replied with small ironic amusement, unable to resist bantering with his sister, regardless of how awkward the situation.
A long moment of silence fell on them again. Dipper shifted, indicating he was about to turn back to the door, when Mabel again spoke up. “I’d understand if …” she began, followed by another uncomfortable pause.
“What?” Dipper prodded, waiting motionless.
Mabel deliberately looked away. “I was thinking back to that day at the Mystery Fair, when we met that time travel guy. And how his tape measure gizmo was able to take us back in time so you could change things and try to make things better.” Dipper waited while Mabel gathered her thoughts. “And I was thinking that if we saw him now, if you could change things again … I’d understand if you went back to make it so … we never went to Portland for our birthday.”
Dipper’s knees almost buckled. The memories of the events of their life-changing birthday in late August flooded over him. The embarrassing but authentic sparks of attraction. The mutual self-realizations of their intense feelings. Their confessions of love for one another. Giving their virginities to one another in a perfect night of lovemaking. He realized the suggestion that he could erase it all from ever happening was … horrifying! It gave him a genuine taste of what it might feel like to actually put an end to their relationship, as Stan had suggested minutes earlier. The revelation made him feel sick, that he could even consider a course of action that felt so wrong now.
“No,” he muttered almost inaudibly, “I couldn’t do that.”
“But isn’t all this worse?” Mabel asked. “What if none of this ever happened to us? We’d be normal kids again. We’d have …”
Mabel continued speaking, but Dipper was no longer listening. He remembered the talk he and Stan had earlier, when Stan told him he was better equipped for all this than was his twin. Dipper had thought he was emotionally tougher than Mabel. He thought he could handle the pressure, and be strong enough for both of them.
But he wasn’t! He was certain of that now. Mabel may have worn her heart on her sleeve, but no matter how well he tried to control them, Dipper’s emotions were just as desperate as hers. And when the moment would come for his feelings to explode, as he now knew they would, he’d be in just as bad a place as Mabel.
In that moment, Dipper resolved that he would not break up with Mabel. He couldn’t. It was simply an impossibility!
The mention of their birthday in Portland also forced him to recall something very important he’d learned that day at the end of the summer. Over dinner at the fancy restaurant, Mabel had helped him figure out that he would know he was in love when he would do anything for that person. Later that evening, when Mabel was in distress, it was easy for him to tell himself that he’d do anything for her. Making that connection had been the moment when he allowed himself to feel what he’d been suppressing for months, perhaps years: he was in love with his sister.
But he had said he’d do anything for her. Anything!
Was that true? Had he done every single thing possible within his power for her, and for their love together to survive?
No, he thought to himself. Not yet, I haven’t! And I can’t do what I need to do alone. I’ve always been too proud ... or too scared ... to ask for help.
His eyes were drawn to his bed, knowing the thick book he’d been reading earlier in the week was waiting for him. He closed his eyes and centered himself. When his eyes opened again, he was staring directly through the window, and he knew he was ready to commit.
Dipper realized Mabel had been silent for several moments, and he finally returned his attention to her. “So …” she moaned, “... I really hate thinking this … but maybe we-”
“Please!” Dipper interrupted. “Just … please just … wait for one more day! I need a little more time! Please don’t-” Dipper’s throat closed, and he gasped, “... please don’t give up on anything. Not yet!”
Mabel forced a stoic expression on her face, and she silently complied with Dipper’s plea.
Dipper put his books and notepad on his bed, and reached under the mattress for the black hard-cover volume that sat hidden beneath. As he pulled it out, he obscured the front of the book so that Mabel could not see the large white cross and the “Holy Bible” title inscribed on the cover.
Piling his books and clothing in his arms, Dipper pulled them tightly to his chest. He faced Mabel, his cheeks flushed. “Well … g’night Mabel. I’ll see you … at breakfast, okay?” as he backed up to the door and opened it.
“Okay,” Mabel replied weakly. “... Night, Dipper.”
“Night,” Dipper whispered back, stepping through and closing the door behind him.
He leaned against the doorframe, took a deep breath, and held it. This is it, Dipper, he told himself. This is the moment you take the leap of faith. It’s now or never!
His let his breath go in a loud whoosh, and then he trotted down the stairs. Before Stan could question him, he quickly hustled into Ford’s room, closed the door behind him, and turned the lock.
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Fistbump 2: Unspeakable (a Pinecest story)