~~~~~~~~~Dipper's POV~~~~~~~~~

I couldn't sleep that night, not as the lights were turned off, and not as the silence of night became deafness. I could hear the wind crashing against the window, becoming harsher as the cold grew closer and closer. I just kept twisting and turning around in my sheets; not that they weren't comfortable, but my mind was too busy to rest.

Maybe a walk would help.

Holding in a yawn, I left the bedroom, making sure the others weren't disturbed. It had been a while since I took a stroll around town, and it's not like I could be mugged anyway. Besides, I could still feel the breeze outside, a nice way to soothe my nerves.

Yet, before I had the chance to leave, a thud grabbed my attention.

The way the upstairs floor was built, the stairs led you right to a corner, with (y/n)'s door to the left, and the hallway that led back to the right, so I had to turn the corner in order to see what it was.

There was nothing in the hall itself, just the usual decorations of paintings and pictures on the wall, as well as a small table with some plants. The rooms were all dark, the doors closed, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

At least, nothing except the door to the attic.

It was hanging open just ever so slightly, and I could see the looming darkness that was inside. Curiosity got the best of me, as well as paranoia, with memories of Halloween night coming back to me. I went into the forest chasing after someone, someone who ended up nearly killing me, and they originally left this house. What if they were here again, up in the attic? Are (y/n) and her aunt in danger at this very moment? I needed to see, and it's not like I'd be caught for it.

Unfortunately, it was a hassle to open the attic door, for my hand kept going through the string I needed to pull. That's when an idea came to mind, an improvisation of my new-found superpowers.

With the momentum of running down the hall, I leaped and reached my hand up as high as I could, letting it go through the roof, and eventually, the trapdoor. Just as planned, the wind I created pulled the door down and planted the ladder for me to use. I was gonna cheer for my achievement, but the moment was cut short as my heart leaped out of my chest when my feet didn't touch the ground, and instead, fell through the second floor onto the first one.

Mental note: write down my personalized comatose ghost rules!

Heading back upstairs as I rubbed the new pain that came out of my lower back, I stared up into the abyss that was above the house. Attics have never frightened me; I live in one, for crying out loud. But something about this just made me feel... uneasy.

But swallowing back my fear, I made my way upstairs.

On my way up, I was arguing with myself on whether or not I should turn on the light since while I wanted to be able to see, I also didn't want to attract any attention. Thankfully, I didn't need to make a decision since the light posts outside partially lit up the room through the window. It wasn't a lot, and a few areas of the attic were pitch black, but it was enough for me to get around.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, it was just an old attic used to store old stuff. There were lots of moving boxes, most empty; besides those, a few cleaning supplies, probably as backups incase the ones downstairs broke. There was also a mirror near the window, dusty and slightly cracked.

You'd think I'd be more cautious about getting bad luck from this, but what can be worse than being undead?

The trimming around it was black with gothic design, though a rose and vines pattern had been carved into it, painted with gold. It reminded me of the way the office we went to earlier was decorated, maybe it was originally from there and later moved. 

But it wasn't until I focused on the mirror itself that I realized something was missing.

That I was missing.

I gripped my shirt, the place where my heart should be, feeling the thumping of my heartbeat. I hated this, I hated feeling like I didn't exist, that my abilities were severed limited. I wanted this to be over so badly...

But my thoughts were interrupted when the moonlight lit something from behind, a glint that bounced against the mirror. I turned around, seeing it coming from one of the boxes. I knew I shouldn't, but it could've been helpful. Could've been dangerous.

Yet, as I peeked in, I realized it wasn't the ladder. It was a photo, one shaped like the pictures taken by a Polaroid camera. It had definitely aged with time, but the the image itself was easy to see; a woman, possibly in her late 20s or early 30s, carrying a child that was no older than five, both with matching features I knew I had seen before, smiling brightly at whoever was behind the camera. I've never known much of photography, but the lighting was incredible, a sun setting behind as the rays of lights lit up their faces just enough to brighten everything up.

It was easy to tell this had been taken in their happiest moment.

I nearly dropped the photo as the lights were turned on, but made sure I hadn't ruined it in my frenzy of panic. By the trap door stood (y/n), arms crossed and a scowl on her face, "You sure are nosy."

"O-oh, I-" I placed the photo back in the box, hiding my hands behind my back, "I'm sorry, I couldn't sleep, and I heard something, so I started looking around, and... I didn't see anything other than that photo."

She stared at me for a while, her scowl slowly decreasing into a light glare. Though, by this point, her gaze had shifted over to the photo I had been holding rather than me. She then walked over, taking the photo herself and leaning back against an old chest I could now see in full light, letting out a sigh.

I wasn't sure what to do, if I should do anything at all, so I just gripped the end of my jacket, trying to be helpful somehow. "Do you... want to talk about it...?"

Her gaze never left the photo, even as she remained silent for a good few seconds, and even as she started to speak. "It's my mom. People who knew her used to tell me she had the most radiant smile." I let myself relax a little, glancing at the photo myself. Even with the light layer of dust it had collected, you could tell the woman's smile was bright and true. "My dad loved taking pictures of everything he viewed as precious," she continued. "There's a lot more of these in another of these boxes."

"Why was that one apart?" I quickly cleared by throat, trying to balance my empathy and curiosity, "I-if you're okay explaining it..."

"My aunt and I used to move around a lot, so we never really unpacked our stuff. But when we moved here and stayed for a couple of months, I snuck up here and started to empty out the boxes. I was caught almost instantly." It was only then that she glanced away from the photo, her expression falling, "She won't admit it, but I think Aunt Beck misses my mom more than me, and I can't blame her, I barely remember my parents. She doesn't like when I'm up here."

"Well, how to you feel about it...?"

She glanced up, staring at nothing it particular, just deep in thought as she came up with an answer. "It's... strangely homey."

I nodded at that, "Attics get a bad rep. I should know, I live in one."

To my surprise, she laughed. Nothing loud, she tried to hide it, but I heard the snicker as her shoulders bounced. "Yeah, I guess you would be the expert."

It brought an odd feeling to my chest, something I hadn't felt before in quite a while. But I didn't think too much of it; instead, I moved to another question. "If I may ask, why did you move around so often?"

"Bullying, mostly." She reached for a strand of hair, fiddling with it as she tried to seem unbothered. "It didn't matter how much I tried to hide it, people always noticed I was different, and kids can be hella mean if they want to be."

"O-oh," I mentally slapped myself for bringing it up, "I'm really sorry about that..."

"Don't be, I'm used to it. And they aren't that bad here, surprisingly. The only one who seems to have a personal vendetta with me is Melanie, but she's usually too busy being a brat to do much." She then turned to me, "Or chasing after you."

I felt the cringing sensation fill up in my chest, groaning. "Please don't remind me, I barely got away from her the night of the party."

"Is that why you left the party?"

"I was practically running out of there! She's even more infuriating when she's drunk."

Another laugh left her lips, this one clearer. So clear you could actually see the smile on her face. Again did the warm feeling from before come back to me, and even my face felt warm as well. I was a bit confused on the why, but I didn't mind it either, I just... let it happen.

But I felt like it was necessary to add to the conversation. To let her know that I did know what she's been going through...

"I uh... I know what it's like to be bullied... And I know it sucks to feel like you can't talk to anyone about it. So if you ever need to, just let me know."

She raised an eyebrow, "You know what it's like?"

"The Dipper Pines: Monster Hunter title is only relevant here in Gravity Falls," I replied with a shrug. Then I rubbed my arm as the memories came back to me, "But outside, I'm just... Dipper the weird kid with the nerd journal and freaky birthmark."

The words came out before I thought about it, but it was already to late as she looked at me with curiosity, "Birthmark?"

"U-uh- just a stupid thing on my forehead, it's nothing special..."

But she still stared at me, and for once since I first met her, she had a curious gleam in her gaze, like a child discovering the glow of fire for the first time. She didn't say anything though, I think she didn't want to push any boundaries.

But I had been asking a lot about her. It was only fair.

So with a sigh, I removed my hat and moved my bangs, feeling myself grow embarrassed as I revealed what I try to often hide. It was as if the gods played pranks on me before I was born, placing the Big Dipper constellation across my forehead. In red marks, no less.

"Whoa...!" She turned her body to fully face me, eyes wide with amazement. "And you were born with that?"

"That's what I was told, anyway." I let my hair fall back into place, putting my hat back on. "I know, it's freaky..."

"Not as freaky as talking to the dead."

"Dead or not, at least they're friendly."

She paused for a moment, then glanced away with a smile, "Yeah, fair point." Then she looked back at me, her smile only growing, "Guess we're both freaks then."

I was surprised by her comment; she was normally so defensive about these abilities of hers. So to see her being okay with it for at least a little while...

Smiling back, I nodded. "Guess we are."

We stood there for a few more seconds, unsure of what to do except just stare at each other. But it didn't feel awkward, nor creepy, just... comforting. It was a nice change of pace.

Then she placed the photo back where it was, letting out a sigh as she dusted herself off, "We should try to get some sleep. Tomorrow's probably gonna be harder than today."

"Right." I stood up, fixing up my jacket, "Hopefully the night isn't too long."

"Oh, and Dipper?"

"Yeah?"

When I didn't hear a reply, I glanced up, seeing her fiddling with the piece of hair again. She seemed more nervous than anything, and I couldn't help but wonder why.

That is, until she spoke. "Thank you..."

"Huh? For what?"

"For hearing me out. I don't get the chance to talk about the way I feel a lot..."

I stared at her for a few seconds, feeling bad about what she said. It's not like I was a stranger to bullying, but at the end of the day, I still had my parents to support me, my uncles, my friends, and most importantly, my sister.

But (y/n), she... she seems to have never had anyone like that. Ally and Andy do their best to help, sure, but talking to them is the source of her issues to begin with.

So I smiled, "No thanks needed. Like I said, if you ever want to talk, I'm free to listen."

"Right back at you," she said with a nod, then climbed down the stairs.

I was about to follow when I figured I could take a short cut, looking down at my feet. I debated on it for a few seconds, then took a deep breath and held it in as I jumped as high as I could. As expected, I slipped through the attic floor and into (y/n)'s room, surprisingly enough.

She snickered when she reached the door, "Getting the hang of things?"

"Slowly but surely," I replied with a shy smile.

Maybe the situation is far from the best, but at the very least, I managed to make some friends of my own without Mabel's help.

And hopefully, once this is all over, things can stay that way.

Thanks for reading!!! 'Till next time!!!

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