The house was quiet as Dipper and Mabel returned, their parents both out for work. They headed straight to their room, with Waddles trotting faithfully behind.

Mabel wasted no time flopping onto her side of the room, her bed practically calling her name. She pulled out her phone, scrolling happily as Waddles settled beside her, snorting contentedly. Convincing their parents to let him stay hadn't been easy. But after receiving a very "colorful" phone call from Stan—

"Listen here, Henry! I lived with that pig all summer! He might be a pain in the butt, but he's your daughter's pride and joy!"

Their parents had reluctantly agreed, trusting Mabel to care for him. Ever since, Waddles had made himself at home.

"Mabel, you're really glued to that phone, huh?" Dipper teased, setting up his spot at the study table. He pulled out his trigonometry homework, pens, and some scratch paper.

She chuckled, unfazed. "Oh, come on, Dipper. I haven't touched my phone since this morning! I'm practically a model student."

He rolled his eyes and focused on the problem in front of him, pencil scratching across the paper. The room settled into a calm quiet until Mabel spoke up again.

"You know, Pacifica got her Biology test back," she began enthusiastically. "And she had the highest score!"

"Congrats," he mumbled without looking up.

"Yeah! Last week, she didn't even pass, but thanks to Y/n, those scores shot wayyy up!"

Dipper's pencil stopped moving, his eyes glued to the stack of unsent letters on his desk. They just sat there, full of thoughts he couldn't quite find the right words for.

Mabel kept chatting about Pacifica's big win in biology, but Dipper barely heard her. His mind was somewhere else—back to the summer that flipped their lives upside down.

He almost died. His sister almost died.

And Y/n...

His chest tightened just thinking about it. She'd nearly vanished completely, wiped out like she never existed. Weirdmageddon left scars that wouldn't fade anytime soon, but watching Y/n fight Bill Cipher until she broke apart herself? That memory was burned into his brain forever.

Even now, months later, Bill haunted his dreams, twisting them into a mess of chaos and unease. The triangle demon might be gone for good, but echoes of his taunting laugh still clung to Dipper's thoughts.

He'd much rather talk to Y/n about all of it in person than write it in some letter. Stuff like that felt too big to cram onto a page.

But what would he even say if she were here?

"Hey, remember when you almost disappeared forever? Cool, huh?"

Yeah. Right.

The strangest part about this situation was that they didn't even have a name for whatever this thing was between them. Are they a couple? Best friends?

He shook his head, trying to snap himself out of it.

Mabel kicked his chair gently. "Earth to Dipper! Thinking about Y/n again?" she teased, grinning wide.

"What? No!" His face turned hot as he hurried to shove the letters under his notebook. "I was just... doing math."

She giggled knowingly. "Sure you were."

He sighed, sinking into his chair. Math was easier than figuring out what to do with all these feelings.

***

https://youtu.be/yN7OV9_dwYU

***

The next day, the twins returned to school, falling back into their usual routine.

By now, Mabel and Dipper had made some changes to their wardrobes to better suit the season. Mabel, always the fashion pioneer, traded in her shorter skirts for longer ones and layered her tops creatively. Her signature touch? Colorful bandanas she crocheted daily, each one sporting unique patterns and vibrant designs.

Her classmates loved them so much they started commissioning her for custom pieces. With her lightning-fast crochet skills, she could crank out ten orders in a single day without breaking a sweat.

When Stan found out about the business through one of her letters, he was overwhelmed with pride. "Ahh, just like her Grunkle!" he sniffled, wiping a tear from his eye.

Mabel greeted everyone she passed, while Dipper was perfectly fine staying in her shadow. They stood in front of their lockers, grabbing their books and shutting the doors at the same time, as if it were second nature.

With plenty of time before their first class, they strolled leisurely through the hallway.

Other students hurried past them, focused on getting to their destinations. Everyone seemed to have someplace to be, but the twins moved at their own unhurried pace, as if time wasn't a concern.

"What do you think is the difference between our school and Gravity Falls High?" Mabel mused out loud.

Dipper shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Honestly? I think they're probably the same."

Before long, they reached their classroom and settled into their seats. The day unfolded as expected—lectures, notes, and the usual routine.

Mabel, always one to multitask, found herself doodling in the margins of her notebook between taking notes. Occasionally, she would glance over at Dipper, who was fully focused on solving equations, his brows furrowed in concentration.

The teacher continued explaining the lesson, but Mabel's mind drifted elsewhere. She thought about Gravity Falls, about the diner where Pacifica worked, about her great uncles' letters. Her eyes flicked toward Dipper again, wondering if he was thinking the same thing.

By lunchtime, the two found themselves at their usual table. Mabel enthusiastically unwrapped her lunch, while Dipper mindlessly poked at his food, lost in thought.

"You okay, bro-bro?" she asked, chewing on her sandwich.

"Huh? Yeah, just... thinking," he muttered.

She swallowed before grinning. "Lemme guess—Y/n?"

Dipper blinked at her, caught off guard, but his silence was answer enough. Mabel giggled knowingly. Wiggling her eyebrows, she leaned in with a teasing grin. "You're totally thinking about her."

He groaned, rubbing his temples. "Mabel, I think about a lot of things."

"Uh-huh. And how many of those things involve Y/n?" She took a dramatic bite of her sandwich, waiting for his answer.

He sighed, pushing his food around with his fork. He hated how predictable he was. But it was hard not to think about Y/n. The letters helped, sure, but they weren't the same as actually talking to her, seeing her expressions, hearing her laugh in person.

Mabel nudged him with her foot. "You know, in just two months, you'll get to see her again. That's, like, nothing! We've survived an entire school year without dying of boredom."

Dipper smirked slightly at that. "Barely."

"Exactly!" Mabel pointed at him with her sandwich. "Just hold on a little longer, and before you know it, we'll be back in Gravity Falls, hanging out with Y/n, catching up with everyone, maybe even pulling a prank on Stan—"

"Oh no," Dipper cut in, shaking his head. "Last time we did that, we ended up scrubbing the Mystery Shack's floors for weeks."

Mabel gasped. "Worth it."

"Only two more months," he whispered to himself, the thought lingering like a warm promise.

Dipper rolled his eyes but couldn't help smiling. Mabel was right—just two more months. Two more months until they were back in Gravity Falls.

Two more months until he could see her again.

Until he could be home in her arms, where everything felt right.

***

Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, deep in the frigid waters of the South Pole, another set of twins shared a hearty laugh, fresh from taking down yet another bizarre creature, just another entry for Ford's latest journal.

After getting rid of his old ones, Ford finally decided to start anew, this time officially documenting their adventures together. Every page so far had been filled with encounters from their travels, with Stan contributing in his own way, mostly by complaining about whatever mess they had to clean up afterward. At that moment, he was busy scraping some stubborn gunk off his shoe, muttering about how no amount of treasure could make up for the horrors he'd stepped in.

Their mission to track and patch up supernatural hotspots across the globe was still in full swing, and for the first time in years, the Stan twins were truly living their dream. If their younger selves could see them now, they'd be in awe—mostly of the treasure and the ladies, but still impressed nonetheless.

The Stan O'War II held strong, sailing through powerful waves and the occasional run-in with giant sea creatures. They had survived countless disasters, thanks to Stan's expertise behind the wheel, Ford's sharp wit, and a shared stubbornness that refused to let anything take them down. Well, that... and what had to be an absolutely ridiculous amount of dumb luck.

But no matter how far they traveled, Gravity Falls was always home. Every year, they charted their course back months in advance, making sure they arrived in time for the holidays. After all, adventure was great and all, but nothing beats coming home to the family waiting for them, eager to hear their latest wild stories.

Stan, of course, was the most animated storyteller, exaggerating every detail for maximum effect. Ford would occasionally step in to correct him, but Y/n had always loved watching them relive their adventures together. The genuine joy in their voices, the way they bounced off each other—it was proof of how far they'd come.

She had spent years waiting for them to finally move past their differences, to rebuild what they had lost. And while she was grateful just to see it happen, there was a small part of her that wished she had been there to witness it firsthand, standing right beside them on their journey.

"Hey, Sixer, what do you want me to do with this... junk?" Stan called out, gesturing toward a pile of slimy, unidentifiable remains sprawled across the deck, a mix of seaweed, glowing fish scales, and something that looked suspiciously like an eyeball.

Ford glanced up from his journal, adjusting his glasses as he examined the mess. "Hmm. That's not junk, Stanley. That's biological evidence of a deep-sea cryptid. If we can analyze its properties—"

"Yeah, yeah, science stuff. Got it," Stan cut him off, already scooping up the gunk with a mop and shoving it overboard. "You ever think about how most of these things are just—gross? Like, real nasty? Why can't any of these weirdos be, I don't know, a majestic flying dolphin or somethin'?"

Ford sighed, shaking his head. "Nature doesn't care about your sense of aesthetics, Stanley."

"Well, nature should start caring," Stan grumbled, giving the deck one last scrub before tossing the mop aside.

Ford chuckled, flipping through his journal as he leaned against the railing. The sun hung low on the horizon, casting golden hues across the rolling waves. It was rare for the sea to be this calm, and for a moment, the two of them just stood there, taking it in.

Stan stretched, cracking his back. "So, when exactly are we supposed to head back?"

"I told you—if we leave now and account for weather conditions, we should make it to Gravity Falls by late April, early May at the latest," Ford replied. "We need to be back in time for Y/n's birthday."

Stan let out a short laugh. "Heh. Right. Kid finally gets to have a real birthday party this year."

Ford smiled to himself. Y/n's life had changed so much in the past year. No longer stuck in the basement, no longer burdened by the weight of something beyond her control.

"She deserves it," Ford murmured.

Stan nodded. "Yeah... she does."

The silence that followed wasn't awkward or tense like it had been in the past. It was peaceful. Comfortable.

Stan let out a deep breath before slapping his brother on the back. "Alright, enough sentimental junk. We got a lotta miles to cover. Let's get this boat movin' before some sea monster decides we look like a snack."

Ford rolled his eyes but didn't argue, shutting his journal and heading toward the controls. The Stan O'War II let out a low groan as the engine roared to life, cutting through the ocean once more.

No matter how far they traveled, Gravity Falls always called them home.

***

Dipper woke with a sharp gasp, his heart hammering against his ribs. His breath came in quick, uneven bursts as he blinked into the darkness of his bedroom, trying to shake the lingering images burned into his mind. The yellow glow, the endless laughter, the feeling of his body crumbling away like dust—

He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to breathe.

It was just a dream.

His fingers instinctively clutched at the small pendant hanging around his neck, the cool metal grounding him. The delicate daisy charm—slightly worn from how often he holds it—rests in his palm, a quiet reminder that he's here. He's safe. He's real.

Y/n had given it to him before they left Gravity Falls. "Something to remember me by," she'd said with a teasing grin, but he knew there was more to it than that. She wasn't just talking about remembering her—she wanted him to remember himself, too. To hold onto who he was, even when the nightmares tried to twist his reality.

Dipper took another shaky breath and laid back down, staring at the ceiling. He knew he wouldn't be getting any more sleep tonight.

Dipper turns his head to the side, his eyes landing on his sister, fast asleep in the dim glow of the moonlight. Waddles is curled up at the foot of her bed, snoring softly. Mabel looks so peaceful, so unbothered. How does she do it? How can she just close her eyes and rest, even after everything?

He isn't sure if he should be impressed or terrified that one day, all of it—everything they've buried—might come crashing down on her.

For him, it already has.

The past few nights have been the same. Tossing, turning, waking up in a cold sweat. He keeps thinking about things he'd rather not—memories that won't stay buried no matter how hard he tries. That's why the stack of unsent letters on his desk keeps growing. He writes and rewrites, but never sends them.

Maybe he should just email her instead. It's faster, less nerve-wracking than waiting for a reply through mail. Stan had sent him her email in one of his letters, mentioning she used it mostly for clinic duty. All he had to do was type out a message and press send.

Simple.

So why does it feel so difficult?

Instead, he just traces the outline of the daisy pendant against his chest, letting his fingers follow the familiar grooves. Slowly, he matches his breathing to the rhythm of his counting—one, two, three, four—trying to calm the rapid thumping in his chest.

His grip on the necklace tightens.

He misses her.

Dipper exhales, rubbing his face with both hands before sitting up. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, feeling the cold floor beneath his feet. Sleep isn't coming back anytime soon.

He reaches for his journal—the one that isn't filled with supernatural findings but with his own personal thoughts. Flipping past old pages, he finds a blank one and hesitates only for a second before pressing his pen to the paper.

Y/n,

He stops. What is he even supposed to say? That he's been losing sleep? That the nightmares won't go away? That sometimes he still feels like they're back there, fighting for their lives?

Instead, he just starts writing about his day. About school, about Mabel's latest crochet obsession, about how he overheard some seniors talking about college applications and it made his stomach turn. Writing feels better than doing nothing.

When he's done, he closes the notebook, letting out a slow breath. He glances at the daisy necklace again, pressing it lightly between his fingers.

Two months left.

***

OWCVME'Y QOIUZVZP TYUERXD OEK XEOXFBYMF
🗝:???

***

CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 33!

[author's note]: thank you for the long wait!! i tried to write but school has been kicking me in the ass repeatedly. i love you all btw!! <3 next chapter they're all going home btw.