WINTER 2013

"Good night, Grunkle Ford." Mabel leaned forward to hug her uncle as he sat on the couch. Ford and Lee had been deep in discussion, but they'd paused to say good night to her and Dipper.

"Good night." Ford hugged her, then moved so that he was looking her in the eye. "You were very brave today."

It took a moment for her to realize what he was talking about. Then she remembered: the portal. He must be talking about her opening the portal. To her perspective, that had only been eight hours ago; yet it felt like a lifetime had passed. It didn't help that she'd lost three hours to the time bubble, either.

"Thanks," she whispered. "But. . . but it didn't do anything. I mean, it did — but it helped Bill, and I don't—"

"You did what we all thought was necessary," Ford said. "I don't know what's going to happen now, but having all ten Symbols gives us a better chance of beating Bill than if we had nine. So you did help us."

"I guess." Mabel glanced at Lee. She couldn't help but wonder the same thing Gideon had asked earlier: Did they have a chance?

Lee caught the glance. "Good night, Mabel," he said gently.

"Um, good night," she replied. She wanted to give him a hug, too, but she hesitated.

Uncle and niece locked gazes for a moment, and something in Lee's eyes broke Mabel's defenses. With a sudden, shaky breath, she threw her arms around him. Climbing onto the couch between him and Ford, she buried her face in Lee's shoulder. He returned the hug and held her close.

Part of Mabel was terrified that Bill would take over at any moment and hurt her, and a small voice in her mind screamed that she had to get away. But it wasn't a loud enough voice, and she instead clung tighter to her uncle. Tears that she hadn't expected spurted from her eyes, and she found it impossible to breathe steadily.

Lee was silent as Mabel cried beside him. It wasn't the first time she'd cried today, and she understood why. The day that had started in the midst of the terrifying gravitational anomalies now ended with an uncle in a situation that was nothing like she'd expected. She cried for him as much as herself.

But her tears were born from positive emotions as well as negative ones — namely a relief that she was finally with her uncle. "We found you," she said into Lee's shirt. "We found you. I thought. . . I thought we'd never find you."

"You found me," Lee said softly. "It's okay."

It wasn't okay, not entirely — not with Bill's power over Lee — but it was better. That in itself was relieving.

When Mabel moved away from Lee and wiped at her eyes, Gideon and Melody came down the stairs. "The air mattress is ready," said Melody. "Gideon's going to need some of your pajamas, I think, Dipper."

"Okay." Dipper (who had already hugged his grunkles good night) helped Mabel up from the couch. The twins joined Gideon on the stairs.

"Stanford," said Gideon, "thank you. For giving me a place to stay, and. . . for defending me, earlier."

Ford nodded and gave him a small smile. "It was the least I could do after you helped me find my brother."

"Is there anything we can do?" asked Lee. "To help you tonight?"

Gideon looked away. "Well. . . like he said. Don't wake me up. Just. . . just let it run its course."

Lee watched Gideon silently until the boy looked up. "Thank you, Gideon. For everything." He looked like he wanted to say more, but no words came out.

Gideon nodded. "Well. . . good night."

He went up the stairs, and Mabel and Dipper followed him. "Dipper," said Gideon when they got to the attic, "do you have any long-sleeved pajama shirts?"

Dipper frowned at the oddly specific question. "Um, I think so. Let me check." He disappeared into the twins' room.

Mabel and Gideon were left alone in the attic, and Mabel found herself looking anywhere but at Gideon. The attic area outside the twins' room was small, with dusty floorboards and a low ceiling. The air mattress, fitted with sheets and blankets, sat off to the side. Knowing what she did about Bill's nightmares, Mabel thought the makeshift bed looked more like a prison than anything.

"Are you going to be able to fall asleep?" Mabel finally asked. She wasn't sure if she would be able to sleep, and she wasn't the one with the promised nightmares.

Gideon let out a long breath. "I'm exhausted," he admitted. "I think I'll fall asleep okay, but. . . well, who knows about staying asleep."

With this statement, another silence fell over the attic.

Then, "This is why, isn't it?" Mabel blurted. "You didn't tell us until now because. . . because this would happen."

Gideon nodded slowly. "Honestly, this is better than I could have hoped for," he said. A small smile forced its way through the solemnity on his face. "I get to stay here, first off. With you."

True, but — but it still wasn't fair. Mabel said as much, and Gideon gave a humorless laugh. "Bill made a promise. Or a threat, whichever term you want to use. I think he sees it as perfectly fair that he gets to follow through with it."

"He shouldn't have tried to force you to keep the secret in the first place!"

"Maybe not." Gideon sighed. "I'll just. . . well, I'll get through it. Like I always do. It's really my only option."

Mabel wanted to ask if he had experience with nightmarish punishment from Bill; but at that moment, Dipper emerged from the twins' room. "Found 'em. I never wear these, but my parents made me bring them." He held up dark blue flannel pajamas. "They might be a little small."

"They'll work, I think," said Gideon. Dipper handed him the pajamas. "Thanks."

Dipper nodded. "Good luck tonight, I guess."

Gideon looked between the twins. "You can't wake me up, okay? No matter what. I. . . I have no idea if I'll make noise or thrash or whatever, but you can't wake me up."

That was possibly the cruelest part of all this, Mabel thought. When she had bad nightmares, she was often woken by Dipper or her parents, and they helped her calm down. If no one was allowed to wake Gideon, then he'd have no respite from his dreams unless he woke up by himself. And what about the twins? If Gideon cried out in his sleep, then they'd just have to listen. Mabel felt helpless.

"Can you promise me?" Gideon said.

Dipper didn't look at all happy about it, but he said, "Okay. I won't wake you up."

"Mabel?" Gideon asked softly.

Mabel thought it was a terrible promise to make. But she nodded. "I. . . I wish. . ."

But there was no way to end that sentence that didn't match what the three of them were already thinking.

"I guess I'm going to bed," Dipper said. "Mabel?"

"Um, yeah, in a minute," she said.

"Okay." Dipper went back into the twins' room.

Mabel glanced at Gideon. "You made it sound like. . . like Bill has done this to you before."

He shrugged uncomfortably. "Not this blatantly, but I get some nightmares from him. Like I said, I just get through them."

How? she wanted to ask. She'd had nightmares that were at least influenced by Bill, and they were terrible. How did Gideon deal with it?

"Can I show you something?" Gideon said.

"S-sure."

He led her over to the air mattress. On the floor beside it were his black coat and white cape, folded neatly, and the first Journal, which he picked up. "I found it," he said. "I was looking for something specific in the first Journal, and I found it." He sat on the side of the air mattress and gestured for her to join him.

"That's. . . that's great." Mabel sat beside him, with a couple inches separating them.

He set the first Journal on his lap. "The second Journal has a footnote," he said. "It references something in the first Journal called 'the Northwest's Relief,' but it doesn't give any detail. It just says to see the first Journal for information."

That sounded familiar. Mabel stared at Gideon as she tried to remember. "Wait. . . weren't you looking for it? With the fairies?"

Gideon started. "How did you know that?"

It felt like so long ago, but the memory came back to her. "On the day that we found the third Journal," Mabel said, "Dipper and I overheard you talking with a fairy about the Northwest's Relief. It was the first time we saw you."

Gideon blinked. "I had no idea," he said. "But, yes, I asked the fairies to help me find it. The footnote in the second Journal was in a section about magical foliage, so I assumed it was a plant. And I was right." He opened the first Journal and flipped through the pages.

As he found his page, Mabel thought of something. "If you were looking for the first Journal, then why did you take mine? I m-mean, the third one?"

Gideon paused. "I thought it was the first," he said. "I didn't know there were three. And. . . I didn't find any more information about the Northwest's Relief in the third one when I looked, either."

Mabel nodded, and she was glad to find that she no longer felt instinctual anger when talking about the day that Gideon had taken her Journal.

He found the page he was looking for. "Here," he said. "This is what I've been looking for." He turned it so Mabel could see.

The Northwest's Relief

I've said before that I'm making new and wonderful discoveries every day. Well, today was no exception! While F was consulting with the construction company, I went out to explore. I saw dozens of mythical creatures, though I didn't get a good look at any of them before they scampered/flew/slithered/melted away (will look further into the melting). Growing rather frustrated with this elusive behavior, I kept walking, until I stepped onto a patch of ground that proceeded to give way entirely! I tumbled into darkness and slid down a slope of dirt until I landed in a heap on solid ground. As I got my bearings, I quickly discovered that I was in an underground cavern, and the only source of light (save the faint sunlight from above) came from a field of glowing flowers. That's right! These flowers, green in stem and blue in petal, gave off a distinct purple-blue glow. They were beautiful, and I knelt down to get a closer look. When I did, I saw a small stone plaque, hidden among the flowers. So someone had been here, had they? I looked closer, thinking the sign was in some foreign tongue, but discovered English words etched into the stone. "The Northwest's Relief," it read.

This was all the more baffling. Was this the name for these flowers? Why that name? Did these flowers have more special properties than their glow? How did they relieve anything?

Upon further inspection, I found a brightly colored gel oozing from the petals of the flower. Curiosity seized me, and I touched the nearest flower with my bare hand. (I now realize that this was a foolish act; but with a name like "Relief," I wasn't expecting any harm.) I rubbed my fingers together, feeling the oily substance. Then, something remarkable happened. The gel dripped onto my palm, where I had lacerated the skin earlier that day in my adventures. It wasn't a serious cut: What little pain I had, I could easily ignore. When the gel touched the cut, however, all discomfort instantly ceased. A cool sensation spread across my hand, and — even more marvelous — the cut disappeared. My injury was gone, like it had never happened!

I was fascinated. I sat down and tugged off my boot, pulling up my pant leg until I revealed an old scar on my ankle. If the gel could heal new wounds, would it also heal old ones? I rubbed some on the scar. Sure enough, it disappeared! Not only that, but the same feeling from earlier appeared in my ankle. I haven't felt pain in that scar for decades, yet the gel still provided a soothing salve. True to the name, it was a relieving sensation.

I picked a few of the flowers for further study, but they shriveled up in my hands. I wished I had brought a bottle or a vial or something with which to capture the gel and take it back to my lab. But, alas, I had not. I was forced to climb out of the cavern with no samples in hand. I did my best to memorize the location of the secret tunnel, though I'm afraid the details are already slipping my mind, and the following map may not be of much use. I do hope to return to the cavern someday. Imagine the use in medicine that this magical gel could have!

As amazing as this discovery is, it is surrounded by many unanswered questions. Who was the first to find this cavern? Who labelled it "The Northwest's Relief"? I understand the Relief part, but why the Northwests? I was unaware that the Northwests ever visited the forest (or ever left their mansion, for that matter).

Note: It has been a week since the discovery of the Northwest's Relief. All attempts to contact the Northwests and ask them about this cavern have been rebuffed. Either they jealously guard this secret, or they simply don't like visitors.

Mabel looked up from the Journal and stared at Gideon. "What. . . what does that mean?" She had a vague idea, but she didn't think she liked it.

Gideon didn't answer at first. "You know those old salesmen," he finally said, "who would sell bottles of dirty water and tell their customers that it could cure anything?"

"I guess." She wasn't sure where he was going with this.

"That's what this feels like. It's like someone's giving me something so simple and telling me that it'll fix everything."

"Because. . . because it'll take the pain away?"

He glanced at her and gave a small nod. "If I had this. . . then it wouldn't matter what my father did to me."

Mabel didn't know what Gaston did to Gideon, not specifically, and she had no desire to know. "But. . . but you're okay now," she said. "Right? He can't hurt you here."

The look he gave her was unreadable. "Right," he said. "But. . . it would still be amazing." He sighed. "If I had my amulet, I could just go grab it and come back, no problem."

"Why don't you have your amulet?" Mabel asked.

"My father has it locked up," he answered. "After I ran away to. . . to save you from Pacifica, the amulet got taken away. Otherwise I could've gotten here a lot earlier to tell you about Lincoln." He glanced sideways. "I tried to come a couple days ago, actually. But I got caught."

If Mabel still held any anger about Gideon hiding Lincoln from her, it melted away. "Gideon, I. . ."

"I know. I should've told you that day at my Manor. I wish I had. But. . ."

"You still told me. Us. That's what matters." Mabel glanced away. "And Bill is still going to terrorize you for it."

"Yeah." He managed a smile. "I don't regret it."

Mabel returned the smile, then reached out and gave him a hug. "Thank you."

He hugged her back. She thought she felt a bit of desperation in the way he held her, but he soon pulled away. "Good night," he said.

She stood up. "Good night. I. . . I'll see you in the morning."

He nodded. "No matter what happens in my dreams, I'll still be here in the morning." He sounded like he was saying it more to himself than to her.

Mabel went to the door of her room, then paused to give Gideon a little wave. He returned it with a smile.

Mabel entered her room, thinking him insanely brave for smiling when he knew the types of dreams he'd have tonight.

The light was off; for once, Dipper seemed to be in bed before she was. Mabel crept to her bed and got in.

A minute later, she felt something bump against the side of her bed, accompanied with a snorting sound. She sat up and helped Waddles onto her bed. "Hey, piggy," she whispered.

Waddles moved onto her lap, and she held him close. Perhaps too close — but she needed something to squeeze right now, and Waddles didn't seem to mind. She once again felt tears on her face; the pig tried to lick them off, which made her laugh quietly.

"Do you forgive him?" asked Dipper's voice in the darkness.

Mabel jumped a bit — she thought he was asleep. Then she calmed down and thought about his question. It was referring to a conversation earlier in the day, when she had been ranting to Dipper about Gideon and how he had come too late to tell them about Stanley. Dipper, who had originally been just as angry as she, had eventually calmed down enough to point out that Gideon still came, and that they'd have no chance without him.

"Mabel?" Dipper asked when she didn't respond for a while.

"Yeah," she said. "I forgive him. He. . . he risked a lot for us."

Waddles started to squirm in her arms, so she gave the pig one last squeeze before setting him on the floor. She heard a rustling sound as Waddles joined Dipper in his bed.

"Good night, Dipper," she said.

"G'night, Mabel."

Mabel lay back against her pillow. Everything that had happened that day — everything she'd experienced — everything she'd learned about the time bubble and about Stanley and about Gideon — it all swirled around her head. She couldn't separate anything from the confusing mass of emotions, and she certainly couldn't process it all tonight. Her exhaustion wouldn't let her.

So, instead, she fell asleep.