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Twin Pines	By : MichaelATownshed Category: +G through L > Gravity Falls Views: 37003 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Gravity Falls or Twin Peaks, nor am I making any money off this story. Christ who would even pay for this?

Chapter List
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Twin Pines
Chapter 1
Growing Pines

Dipper continued searching through his journal. He thumbed through the section on trolls, skipped over the portion on goblins, and briefly eyed a collage of old newspaper clippings headlined in uppercase letters with the title UNCOVERED EVIDENCE ON L.P. CASE??? , before he found what he was looking for.
The sun was already descending past the horizon, its fading light already shrouded by the dense cloud covering that had been forming all day. Far into the distance the rumbling of thunder softly pierced the silence of the forest that Dipper trudged through. The flashlight was flicked on, illuminating the way forward.
He aimed the black light device at the page marked What Is It?, revealing a map scribbled in invisible ink. All the pages of the journal had their own invisible writings jotted down onto them, and ever since their discovery Dipper had worked feverishly to unravel these new revelations about the sleepy town of Gravity Falls. A journal within a journal, he said to himself, like a riddle wrapped in an enigma inside a … conundrum? Wait, was it conundrum? No, that can’t be it. How did that go again?
“Dipper.”
Dipper was only mildly aware of the large mound of shrubbery and moss that he just passed by. As he walked on his eyes remained fixated on that crudely drawn map, though at the very least he could make out that a cliff should be somewhere up ahead. Maybe it’s a mystery wrapped in an enigma stuck in a quagmire suspended in a paradox. I - no, that doesn’t make any sense.
“Dipper.”
Why would a mystery be wrapped around an enigma? That’s not even possible, how does someone get wrapped in an enigma? That’s like, I dunno, like using a turnip as a blanket, that’s just not a reasonable thing to do.
“Dippeerrrr.”
Maybe I’m just being too literal.
“DIPPER WATCH OUT!”
The tackle that struck him on his left side knocked him off his feet. With an “oomph” they landed onto a clearing of dirt and grass. He managed to reposition himself onto his back, and in the growing darkness gazed up at his attacker.
“Hey Dipper,” Mabel said in an upbeat tone, almost obliviously so. She was on top of him, her weight pressed against his lap and her hands holding down his arms. Though her face was obscured by the coming night as well as by the long strands of silky hair that flowed down her face, he knew she was bearing a big toothy, metallic grin. “Looks like you were totes about to fall off that cliff and die a horrible death.”
“Totes?” Dipper asked.
“Totes bro.”
Dipper spotted the black light a short distance away. He watched it drop off his sight and fall down the precipice of a cliff he hadn’t even known was there. It took some ten or so seconds before it finally landed with an echoing, distant shatter. Dipper looked back at Mabel. “Yeah, so I was. Thanks sis, that would’ve been really embarrassing, death by cartoon cliché.”
Mabel giggled. “Yeah, imagine if you just kept walking straight on until you looked down and then fell with that whistle sound till you landed with a big ol’ SPLAT? Cause that would be hilarious! Except for the part where you’d break every bone in your body. Then I’d have to scrape you off a giant boulder, and I just don’t think I’d be up for the task my broseph. Not at all.”
Dipper wiggled under his sister. “Hmm, I can appreciate the sentiment dear sister, I too wouldn’t be up for my body being scraped off a giant rock. Anyway, how about we get back to the whole ‘searching aimlessly for the mysterious thing in the woods’ uh, thing we were doing?”
Mabel shook her head. “Nope.”
“Nope?”
Mabel shook her head again. The whipping of her hair across his face irritated his nose. “Nope,” she reiterated, “cause my brother’s an idiot. An idiot I care for very much, but an idiot nevertheless.”
Dipper glared into the practically invisible face of his sister. “Seriously get off.”
Mabel shook her head once more. The swish of her hair across his nose caused him to sneeze that tiny, barely audible type of sneeze that he hated but everyone else thought was so cute. Oh no.
She cooed. “So cuteeeee. More kitten sneezes.”
“Come on, we can’t be out here for- ahh-choo!” Her assault on his olfactory organ did not cease. She violently shook her head and hair over his face like a mad little possessed girl. “You got- ahh-choo! Ow my eye, your hair is in my eye! This is like the worst torture ev - ahh-choo!”
“Torture? More like, um…. cuteture!” Mabel shouted. Dipper groaned. She paused her head-shaking and forced a laugh. “Cuteture, get it? Because it’s cute, and it’s torture. What? This is quality material here! Don’t look at me that way, it’s good, it’s a good – well ok maybe it needs some more work. I’m stopping now, but only cause I’m getting some serious whiplash here.” She dropped off him with a grunt. “So much whiplash.”
As Dipper brushed himself off, he walked over toward the cliff. It trailed off a deep, jagged ravine, and all the way down he could see the feeble glow of the black light, flashing on and off till it finally died. Mabel, standing, though slightly wobbling whilst she held her head, picked up the flashlight. She directed the light all around them. It was forest, going on for miles even, though luckily the trail that led back to the Mystery Shack was still visible. Picking up his journal, he opened it to the page that contained the invisible map. It wasn’t there anymore, the invisible ink once again concealing its secrets. The regular black ink writings on that page were instead about jewelry, or at least that’s what they seemed to be about. With a sigh he shut the book.
Mabel aimed the flashlight at Dipper. “Maybe we don’t need the map. Do you recognize any landmarks?”
He scratched his head, scanning the surrounding land. “There’s the cliff, I know that was on there, but so were a string of mountains, or maybe it was a bunch of hills, then again they could’ve been trees. But, considering this whole place is just trees, hills and mountains…”
A nodding Mabel aimed the flashlight at her face. “We got nothin’. Wanna call it a night and try tomorrow? Unless you plan on waiting for the ghoooosts to kidnap us. Again. They do that a lot.”
Dipper tucked the journal back into his coat pocket. He felt a drop of water land on his cheek. Up above the clouds completely obscured the night sky and the millions of stars that usually dotted it. Another drop tapped against his cap. “Yeah, I guess we’re done for tonight.”
Mabel performed two cartwheels towards her twin brother. On the second one her hand got caught on her sweater and she landed face first on the ground. Before he could help her she stood up and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “There there little brother, even in failure I’ll always have your back. It doesn’t even have to be your failure. Ow, my face.”
That stopped him dead in his tracks. “’Little?’ Whoa, I thought we were done with this whole ‘little’ thing. ”
Mabel giggled, pulling a leaf out of her hair. “We’ll be done with this whole ‘little thing’ when you start getting bigger. Which I’m guessing is never, my little beta bro.”
“Come on, you have one millimeter on me and suddenly you think you’re Queen Mabel.”
“Now that’s where you’re wrong, I’m Princess Mabel, so that makes you the prince. The prince that’s two millimeters shorter than me.”
“Hold the cell phone,” he uttered, pointing a finger at her chest, “you have no evidence that you’re two millimeters taller, who said you were?”
“I said it, the big sister. Don’t be jealous just because I’m maturing faster.”
A clap of thunder rocked the night, interrupting Dipper’s response. Mabel was already wrapped around him, holding tight as if for dear life, her body quivering, her right cheek pressed tightly against his left cheek. He smirked. “Mature, eh?”
Slowly and deliberately she narrowed her eyes at him as she let go. “This doesn’t prove anything.”
Something rustled in the brush ahead of them. In the inky blackness they perceived the dim glow of two round, yellow eyes watching them intently. Mabel forced herself to aim the flashlight at the creature. Save for its slightly ruffling feathers it remained mostly still, perched upon what looked like a bush or a big, vine covered rock. It turned its head all the way behind its body, hooting as an owl does. “Awww, I love owls,” Mabel whispered, displaying her characteristically wide and toothy, metal studded grin. A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, accompanied by a thunderous clap. All the while the owl kept watching them, unmoving, undeterred, its eyes unblinking. Mabel stroked her hair. “And now I’m seriously creeped out. Great...”
“Hold up,” said Dipper, as he took Mabel’s arm and directed the flashlight’s light at the owl’s perch. It was a chest, covered in moss, dirt, and heavily concealed by forest foliage. Dipper recognized it as the mound they had passed by before he almost took a dive into the ravine. “I can’t believe I missed that.”
“I believe it, you dweeb. So is this what we’re looking for?” she asked. Dipper shooed the owl away, with one last hoot it flew off. The chest’s wooden frame was worn and warped, secured by an old rusty lock that had also clearly seen better days. Mabel grabbed the lock and gave it a hard tug. Despite its appearance the lock didn’t give way, the wood however buckled somewhat under Mabel’s force. “You know, you never told me what it is we’re looking for.”
Dipper consulted the journal once more. There was nothing about any chests, there was just that picture of a piece of jewelry and some cyclopean script that he hadn’t been able to decipher, not even with Google Translate.
He kicked the chest. “That’s because I have no idea what we’re looking for. Either it’s another clue that’ll lead us closer to discovering the identity of the journals’ author, or it’s just some old necklace, probably cursed or something.”
“Oh my gosh I’ve always wanted cursed jewelry. Dibs on the necklace!”
Dipper shrugged. “Deal, just don’t come crawling to me if you grow horns or something.” The twins took hold of the lock, their fingers wrapping around the others’ as they angled for the best grip they could muster. “Ok, let’s get this sucker open, on the count three, pull!”
It didn’t take long for the water-logged wood to yield the lock to the twins. Its rusted screws and metal hinges ripped right off the termite-invested chest without much of a struggle. Tossing the lock aside, they both pushed the lid open. “Cursed necklace here we come!” yelled Mabel. Both looked down into the mostly empty chest, both staring in befuddlement at whatever it was they had found. Suddenly Mabel’s eyes widened. She gasped in excitement.
Dipper’s eyebrow arched. “What, what is that?”
Mabel squealed as she picked it up. “It’s - it’s a shawl!” she said as wasted no time putting it on. It was pure white, and surprisingly clean despite the chest’s moldy condition. It was a couple sizes too big for her, though she didn’t seem to particularly care. She twirled around in it, her arms raised up in the air as if she were a ballerina.
Dipper examined the clothing item closer. It took him a moment to realize the shawl was comprised entirely of feathers, pure white, long feathers. “I’m not a fashionista or anything,” he started, “But the word ‘tacky’ keeps coming to mind.”
Mabel dismissively waved her hand. “I am a magnificent, elegant dove.” With another twirl she tripped on a tree root; she barely managed to keep herself from landing butt first into the dirt.
Dipper frowned. “Did we miss something? There’s not even a demonic necklace, nothing?” He took the flashlight and inspected the chest. Nothing. Another flash of light streaked across the sky, closely followed by another booming thunder clap. It was loud enough to make Dipper jump, though Mabel didn’t seem to notice it this time. He illuminated his sister with light as she continued her impromptu ballerina recital. She arched her back and closed her eyes, with one leg stretched part-way into the air while her arms accentuated the length of her feathered shawl. Dipper had to admit that the feathers did give her the appearance of possessing wings.
You’ve always been a glass half full kind of person. He watched her dance for a little longer, till another drop of rain touched his face, and then another, and then it became a light drizzle. “Alright sis, let’s get moving,” he said. “We’ve done enough mystery solving-slash-finding random junk in the woods for one night, and I’m not up for more of that in the middle of a thunderstorm.” She didn’t heed her brother, instead she continued dancing, shifting her other leg up into the air while her feathered arms swept from her body outwards in either direction. It was then that he noticed it. He felt his hands suddenly become very cold, and a sensation of both fear and revulsion shook him to his stomach. He suppressed the urge to retch. “Ma- Mabel!”
Finally she placed her foot on the ground and her arms back down. She gave Dipper a curtsey followed by a bow. When her eyes finally opened she looked into the eyes of her terrified brother. “Oh come on it wasn’t that bad. Maybe I should start taking lessons again.”
“No, Mabel, you, you’re-”
She turned around quickly, searching for whatever it was that was freaking out her brother. There was nothing behind her, or anywhere, except the usual assortment of trees and other forest related stuff. “Dipper, what is it? What?” She raised her palm up and felt the light drizzle of rain on her skin. “It’s just water. I know you have a stereotypically male aversion to baths, but it’s not acid rain or anything. This isn’t the 90’s we’re not going to melt.”
He aimed the flashlight a little lower.
Almost immediately she directed her gaze at her legs. “What, did my skirt fall off, what ar-,” she went immediately silent. “Oh.”
Both their sights remained fixed at the thin red streams seeping down her legs. Her socks were now stained a deep, vibrant red, and so was her skirt where it made contact with her crotch. She swiped her hand across her thigh and looked at the fluid dripping from her hand. “Yeah,” she replied with a gulp, her voice momentarily quivering. “Yep, that’s definitely blood.”
Mabel crossed her legs, shuddering as the blood blotted between her thighs. She turned away from her brother, and him away from her. Neither spoke for what felt like a very long time. “Maybe I should have gone with kittorture,” Mabel finally said, absent-mindedly wiping her blood-stained hand on a tree, “Get it? Kitt-orture? Cause you sneeze like a kitten, and also torture, but as one word. I’m just putting that out there. Darn it, it got on my sweater too.”

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Twin Pines