This is set in a Gravity Falls alternate universe in which Dipper stayed to be Ford's apprentice. The dialogue lines are all lyrics from Imogen Heap's Telemiscommunications, featuring deadmau5. The song is posted above.

Dipper Pines raced up the stairs from the hidden basement of the Mystery Shack, pushing open the vending machine with no heed to the surprised tourists on the other side. He barely stayed to hear the click of the vending machine closing over the entrance, his pounding feet on the carpet covering up most of the sound anyway. 

A few more seconds of running and he was there: the phone. It sat, innocent and old-fashioned, on the table, waiting for him to pick it up and to call. He grabbed it, a faint smile on his face, and dialed the number to Mabel's new cell phone.

As the phone rang, he suddenly felt nervous. That was strange. He was just calling his sister. She was still her and he was still  him. What was there to be nervous about?

She answered on the third ring.

"Hey, sis, how's your day been?" Dipper asked once she said hello. He loved hearing the sound of her voice, even over the phone.

"No, you first," she shot back, her voice crackling through the connection. She said something else, but it was lost in static.

"Oh. . . what?" Dipper frowned. "The delay's quite bad."

"Yeah, sorry," Mabel replied. At least, he thought that's what she said. She kept talking, but all he could hear was something about vocabulary and smartness, probably in reply to him using the word quite. Was smartness even a word? Ah well. It was Mabel. Anything was fair game. A smile formed on Dipper's face as he thought that.

"Where are you? I can't really hear you," Dipper tried, cutting off Mabel's staticky voice. 

She didn't answer, or if she did, he couldn't hear it. He called her name.

She started talking in a burst of static, but this time he could make out most of it. "A taxi, distracted. Anyway, you - you were saying?"

Dipper grinned and started telling Mabel about his day. He told her about his and Ford's new discovery of what they thought was a tree sap that could heal anything, and he was just getting started on his awesome story about their run-in with a gargoyle when Mabel cut in.

"Wait, uh. . . Now they're waving me over."

Waving her over? What for?

"Can I call you back?"

Call him back? But. . . This was their time. Their time to call each other and talk about their lives. This was the only time they had.

Dipper didn't respond for a long while, and Mabel asked if he was okay.

"Yeah, everything's fine," he replied, feeling the opposite. What was wrong? "Why am I. . .?" He trailed off when he realized he was thinking out loud.

Too late, Mabel heard him. She asked what he was talking about.

Dipper thought for a moment on what to say. "I don't know why," he said, "I probably just need sleep. It's been a busy week."

Mabel let out a little laugh and agreed with him. He had deflected her, but. . . why was her week busy?

He was just about to ask when Mabel said, "Sorry, I've got to go. So. . . ."

"Okay," Dipper said, blinking in surprise. That was abrupt. It was almost like. . . No. No, of course she wanted to talk to him. "Bye."

Mabel hung up first.

Dipper put the phone down in its cradle and stared at it for a moment before plodding over to the couch and sinking down into it. A wave of remorse and melancholy washed over him. He didn't understand it. His phone calls with Mabel were supposed to make him happier. He already missed her throughout the day, although his adventures with Ford kept him distracted from it most of the time. But when it was time to call her, which he did every few days, he could hardly wait to do it. Now. . . 

Now he just hurt.

He sat there on the couch, staring at the blank TV and wondering what was wrong with him. He felt much worse, but he didn't want to feel worse after talking to his twin sister. She put light into his life that. . . That he was really missing, now that he was living in Gravity Falls.

And she had been acting strangely today, too. Where was she, and why wouldn't she tell him? It was like she was avoiding it, asking him how his day was and sounding almost relieved when she said she had to hang up.

Was she not wanting to talk to him anymore?

Dipper was still brooding on the couch when Ford walked in and saw him. He asked what was wrong while opening the fridge, and Dipper just grunted in response. A very teenage thing to do, since he was technically a teen now. 

Thirteen. Technically a teen.

We're both thirteen, not just me.

Ford closed the fridge with a soft thud and went over to his nephew, crouching down so he could look him in the eyes. He asked what was wrong again.

Dipper gave in and told Ford about the phone call. "This is just so unlike us," he said when he was done, trying to stop tears from shining in his eyes. He was supposed to be happy now!

"Cut back to horizontalisms," Ford said softly. Dipper looked up at him and asked what he meant. Ford shrugged and said talking through the phone was like two dimensions rather than the three dimensions of Dipper and Mabel actually being together. That didn't exactly help, and Dipper sank deeper into the chair, wondering if Ford just liked to use big words.

Ford let the silence draw out, waiting for Dipper to say what was on his mind.

"If. . .," Dipper said, "we could win just one small touch. . . ." He glanced at Ford to see his great uncle's reaction. After all, Dipper had wanted this apprenticeship. He had. He just. . . Hadn't realized how much he would miss Mabel.

Ford didn't look angry, though, just waiting, as if he knew Dipper had more to say.

"Contact versus. . . ." Versus what? What was it that Dipper and Mabel had.

It took Dipper a moment, but when he thought of it, he couldn't help thinking that Ford wasn't the only one who could use big words. "Telemiscommunications."

Ford nodded, approvingly if Dipper wasn't mistaken. The teen was a bit confused. Wouldn't Ford be disappointed that his apprentice wasn't feeling so happy anymore? Couldn't he see the rebellious thought lingering in Dipper's head that maybe he no longer wanted this?

But Ford didn't say anything else or look angry in the slightest. He just stood up and walked away, leaving Dipper to his thoughts.

Dipper didn't like his thoughts, though. So he closed his eyes, pushed away his worries about Mabel's vague words, and forced himself into a fantasy.

He could think about all this later, when maybe it wouldn't hurt so much.

~~~~~

Mabel could feel her cell phone bumping heavily against her in her pocket. She'd been acutely aware of its presence ever since her phone call with Dipper an hour ago. Now, she was at the base of the mountain she'd been hiking on. Her group said goodbye, and she returned the sentiment, having made friends with all of them for the few hours they'd been together. But her heart wasn't really in it. It hadn't been since the phone call.

Why couldn't she just tell Dipper where she was? Tell him that she and Mom and Dad had taken a trip to the Rockies of Utah and were staying in a small town nestled at the base of a few mountains. She could have mentioned it at anytime, explained why the service was bad and who had been waving her over, but she. . . couldn't. She couldn't bring herself to.

She passed into the town, which was about the same size as Gravity Falls. A painful thought. It was a lot drier and hotter here, though.

She could hear police sirens in the distance, probably on the highway that shimmered on the horizon. She gave a little smile, imagining a huge police chase to stop some high-end thief. "Plans foiled, sirens pass by," she said to herself, swinging her gaze around to the other side of the street, where a yard full of little blonde kids - were they all siblings? That's a big family! - were chasing each other around, laughing. "Kids screaming." 

She kept commenting on the scene around her - the beginnings of a red sunset, the tumbleweed on the road - until realized she was describing her surroundings to Dipper.

Dipper, who couldn't hear her.

She felt her cell phone weighing down her pocket again and sighed. 

The next day, Mabel was headed home. She sat in an airport, swinging her legs, waiting, and waiting, and waiting. She honestly wished they could just drive home, but then she would have to deal with sitting alone in the back without Dipper to poke and tease and play games with. So maybe flying was the better option. 

There was a beep, and a fuzzy voice started droning from hidden speakers. Mabel listened for a bit, hoping for announcements about her flight, but the voice was so monotone and hard to understand that she soon gave up. Her parents were in charge of everything anyway, right?

The voice kept talking. And talking. And talking.

Mabel moaned and slumped down in her seat. "The longest public announcement," she muttered, complaining to. . . 

Her twin that wasn't there.

She shook off the twinge of sadness as her parents herded her towards check-in, which also took forever. Man, they said air travel was much faster than car, but for every hour of flight there seemed to be two hours of waiting in an airport!

"Reached check-in, finally got through," Mabel said to herself as she passed through the metal detector. This talking out loud thing was becoming a habit. Or maybe. . . Maybe she had always talked out loud, but it hadn't been as strange because Dipper had always been there to listen.

She was snapped out of her thoughts by her mother saying something frantically. They were late for their flight! What? All that waiting, and now they were going to be late?!

They didn't even have time to put their shoes back on. Mabel stuffed them in her carry-on and ran after her parents, their luggage bouncing awkwardly against their legs. "Running for a flight, shoes off," Mabel described to the non-existent Dipper running beside her.

Then her phone started to ring.

Dipper!

But her mom was yelling at her to hurry up.

"You're calling. . . ."

She couldn't stop to pick up. 

"Voice-mail," she said sadly when the phone stopped ringing.

She wouldn't be able to call him on the plane, either. She'd just have to hope he'd pick up when she got home. 

Half an hour later, she was finally settled on the plane, smushed comfortably between the window and her father. Her parents were chatting with each other as the plane took off, but Mabel was focused on the funny feeling of her stomach dropping as they gained altitude. She looked out the window, watching the ground below become smaller and smaller.

Dipper would love this.

He had never flown before, but Mabel knew he would love the view and be excited about the prospect of soaring above the clouds. If he was here, they'd look for shapes in the clouds and try to freak each other out with plane crash horror stories.

Mabel's dad nudged her and said something about a funny time on their trip. Mabel laughed along with her parents, more out of obligation than anything else. Her mind was still on Dipper.

She turned back the window and whispered, "In-joke, group laughter." Now that her dad had mentioned the trip, though, she thought back to that last hike with their group, and how she would probably never see any of them again, but was still happy to have met them. "Closing scenes in a meeting."

It wasn't like that with Dipper, though. She would see him again. They were twins, after all, and she was still going to visit him in the summers.

Her eyes looked over the autumn clouds outside the plane window without really seeing them. Summer was so far away.

As soon as the plane landed and Mabel got off, she was pulling her phone out of her bag to call Dipper back. Please pick up please pick up. . . 

He picked up.

Hearing his voice was so amazing that it took Mabel a moment to realize he was asking why she didn't answer earlier.

Her heart dropped. She couldn't lie. And if she told him she was at an airport, he'd ask why, and then she'd have to tell him the whole story. It wasn't like he shouldn't know, but. . . She had been keeping it from him until now. Why?

Because she didn't want him to feel left out.

She took a deep breath and told Dipper why she hadn't picked up, and all about the trip.

There was silence.

"Mabel. . . Mabel, why didn't you tell me?"

She closed her eyes. What could she say to that?

Before she knew what she was saying, she blurted, "This is just so unlike us!"

Dipper didn't answer for a moment, and when he did, his voice was shaky. "Cut back to horizontalisms," he replied.

What the heck did that mean?

Mabel shook it off - Dipper probably used a lot of big words now that he was apprenticed to Ford - and continued. "If we could win just one small touch. . . "

"Contact versus telemiscommunications," Dipper finished.

Mabel paused and let the word wash over her. Telemiscommunications. It. . . certainly fit.

At least he understood! She suddenly realized this whole time she had been afraid that Dipper was so happy with being Ford's apprentice that he hardly even missed Mabel.

"So unlike us," Dipper was saying.

Mabel let out a little laugh. "Cut back to horizontalisms," she tried, parroting her brother.

He laughed too, though it was tinged with sadness. "If we could win just one small touch - "

"Contact versus telemiscommunications." Yes, Mabel liked that word. It summed up almost everything she was feeling about being separated from her twin. Did he come up with it?

Her parents called her over, and she had to say goodbye to Dipper. As she hung up the phone, she felt renewed from hearing his voice, but. . . 

She also felt lonelier than ever.

~~~~~

Dipper ran into the Mystery Shack, dumping his pack unceremoniously by the couch. Ignoring Stan's protests, he grabbed the phone and quickly dialed Mabel's number.

One ring. . . 

Two rings. . . 

Three rings. . . 

Four. . . 

Five. . . 

Nothing.

He had missed her; he had come in late and now she couldn't talk. She probably tried calling. Stan probably had to tell her that Dipper was still out with Ford. 

"Did I tell you I loved you today?" Dipper asked the phone sadly.

~~~~~

Mabel pounced on her cell phone the moment she got back in the car from her piano lesson. There it was. A missed call from Dipper. At least he had tried to call her back.

But he had still missed their time.

"Did I tell you. . . ," she began, looking down at the phone. ". . . I loved you, today?"

She felt sad, even a little angry, about Dipper missing the time for them to talk, but underneath all that, she still wished she could just tell him she loved him.

~~~~~

Dipper noticed himself getting distracted more and more as Ford taught things to him. Thinking about Mabel.

"Did I tell you I loved you today?" he whispered absently while Ford was talking to him about the height-altering crystals. 

Had he told her that, recently?

Now he couldn't remember.

~~~~~

Mabel always kept a smile on around her parents and her friends. At school she was the best person to be around, always happy, always shining on the outside.

But on the inside, she missed her twin.

"Did I tell you I loved you today?" she said to herself as the teacher called the role. Dipper Pines always used to come right before Mabel Pines. Not even teachers knew Dipper's real name.

But it was just Mabel, now.

~~~~~

Dipper was writing in his Journal. His very own Journal, with a Pine Tree on the front, and discoveries and notes inside. He still remembered the day Ford helped him make it. 

He finished his entry for the day, but there was still a little space on the bottom.

Before Dipper knew what he was doing, he had written, "Did I tell you I loved you today?" underneath his entry. Then he starred it and put another star next to Mabel's name, which was further up in the entry.

He couldn't. . . 

He couldn't do this anymore.

~~~~~

Despite Mabel's efforts to seem cheerful, her parents eventually picked up on her depression. They told her it was okay. They told her they would do something about it.

What they didn't realize was that only Dipper could cheer up Mabel now.

"Did I tell you I loved you today?" she asked the picture of him on her nightstand.

~~~~~

Dipper's hands shook as he waited at the bus stop. He still couldn't believe this was happening. He was really, truly going back to Piedmont. Giving up his apprenticeship, going back to his twin. He thought he would be torn about the decision, but somehow he'd always known he would have to make it.

And choosing to return to Mabel was one of the easiest things he'd ever done.

"Did I tell you I loved you today?" he said to himself, to Mabel, and allowed himself a smile.

~~~~~

Her parents said there was a surprise. Mabel sat quietly in the back of the car, wondering if this was supposed to help her feel better. If this was some attempt at making her happy.

Unless Dipper suddenly came home, nothing would work.

The car pulled to a stop, and Mabel looked up, disinterested but also a bit curious. Then she gasped.

Getting off a bus with The Speedy Beaver on the side was none other than her twin brother.

Mabel was out of the car in a flash, barreling down the sidewalk and throwing herself into Dipper's arms, crying before either of them could say anything.

Dipper eased his arms from his suitcase handles and put them around his sister. They both laughed, both cried. Finally, after months of pain and loneliness, they were finally back together.

Mabel whispered something in Dipper's ear through her tears.

"Did I tell you I loved you today?"

changes: "babe" to "sis"; "angel" to "Mabel"