This chapter is edited.
WARNING:
This story deals with some heavy topics i.e. mental health, depression, mentions of suicide, physical abuse, as well as eating disorders. Please read at your own risk.

Dipper made sure to be at Greasy's Diner a whole hour before Pacifica arrived. His brain was moving a mile a minute and he preferred to have the area scouted before going anywhere with someone.

Of course, he ran into Cody there. Dipper was hardly surprised. If anything, he was more miffed.

"Dipper?" Cody scrunched up his face in confusion before walking over to where Dipper sat. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm fishing; what does it look like I'm doing?" Dipper retorted. "I had something to drop off, a friend needed help."

Cody rolled his eyes. "Still working that gig?"

Dipper scowled just a little bit. "It's not a 'gig' if I don't get paid for it, Cody."

Cody chewed on his lip minutely before replying. "So, you go to the sessions, try not to off yourself in the middle just to get a prescription for a illness that you don't even have to give to a guy and you don't even get paid?!"

"Would you like to say that any louder? I'm sure the folks in Germany didn't quite hear you." Dipper snarked. "I wouldn't want to get paid for something like this. Consider it my community service."

Taking this as a cue to sit down and start a conversation, Cody plopped himself down in the seat opposite of Dipper, hand on his cheek, a thoughtful expression flashed across his face. "Maybe I pegged ya wrong. Not Peter Pan, more like a modern day Robin Hood."

"I don't recall asking for this conversation." Dipper checked his nails, a bored expression on his face.

"Ahh, but you'll get it." Cody grinned, one half of his mouth quirking up while the other half stayed perfectly neutral. Dipper was quite used to making that particular expression himself, and found it rather strange to see on another human being. "Why do you think that is?"

"Which question are you asking me to answer?" Dipper feigned ignorance, something he didn't particularly enjoy doing, however, sometimes it was necessary. And because Cody Chiu was practically acting like Dr. Southeast, it was only fitting that he treat him as such. "If it is the latter, I am going to assume the answer is because you are Cody Chiu and your opinion matters to me solely because of the concept of found family."

Cody rolled his eyes. "Flattery will getcha anywhere, sunshine"— he smirked at Dipper's disgusted expression— "but I know you're smarter than that. You know what I mean."

Dipper sighed and schooled his face into his resting face (boredom, easy). "Because I feel like I owe our society a debt of servitude to pay for all of my sins."

"I asked for your answer, not the bullshit excuse you feed to your psychiatrist so they can write a novel aboutcha." Cody snorted, unpleasantly. "So. . ?"

Dipper frowned, so it seemed that Cody was far more perceptive than his ridiculous charlatan of a psychiatrist. Oh well, he could trust Cody. "I assume you want the honest answer?"

"No, Dipper." Cody retorted. "I want you to blatantly lie to my face so I can go to the bathroom and weep humongous tears to my reflection as I gently caress its shimmery face and wail 'why doesn't he trust me?!'."

To this, Dipper snorted in response. Cody Chiu was an interesting colleague —well, Dipper supposed that he could be considered a friend due to his reference to found family— and managed to catch Dipper off-guard with a ridiculous comment that, despite his better judgement, would make him laugh.

"So. . ?" Cody prompted once more.

"I'm naturally a self-sacrificial person." Dipper replied evenly. "I'm sure you understand."

"Of effin course I do." Cody rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "I may not look it, but I got a helluva good memory. I remember the days in the system, maybe more than you do."

"Oh?" Dipper cocked a brow. "I doubt that very much."

"Get off your high horse and just listen to me for a sec." Cody groaned and ran a hand through his cropped hair before he began speaking once more. "I know you feel like you're helpin' people —and I'm sure you really are— but you gotta think 'bout the consequences, Dipper. What happens if you get caught doin' this shit?"

"I'll think of that if it ever comes to that." Dipper explained lightly without going into any detail at all. He excelled at that. "I have several plans, Cody Chiu, and only three of them end with me faking my death, so you needn't worry about me."

With a scoff, Cody dropped the subject. "Anyways, what d'ya say we get outta here and chill elsewhere."

"Afraid I will have to decline your offer of suspicious activity." Dipper murmured, "I have a more pressing meeting."

"So there's another reason you're here?" Cody chose to ignore the innuendo with the best of his ability. "A meeting? With who? The lunatic psychiatrist?"

"No, that would breach the doctor-patient relationship agreement." Dipper grinned wickedly. "Someone else."

"You meetin' up with the boys without mentionin' it to me?" Cody raised both his eyebrows (ever since he was young, he couldn't quite master the skill of lifting a single brow, and it was something that Dipper would continuously hold over his head for the rest of their days), in shock.

"Hardly, Cody, I'm not sure what the group would do without you." Dipper rolled his eyes with ease. "I, believe it or not, may or may not have a date."

To no one's surprise, Cody guffawed and nearly choked on his own air intake. Once he finally finished his coughing-laughing fit, he spoke, breathlessly. "You? A date?! Intimacy?!"

"Oh? Are you jealous?" Dipper mocked lightly. "You do realize that you will always hold a special place in my heart."

"Ha, effin' ha." Cody growled. "I'm not jealous, just amused! I can't believe that someone like you would ever go on a date!"

"Why is it so surprising?" Once again, Dipper was feigning ignorance.

"You hate opening up. It took ya forever to start speaking truths to us! Your, alleged, 'found family'. You don't even tell your psychiatrist the truth about how you feel, so of course it's surprising that you'd go on a date with a random person! Unless," his eyelids lowered until his eyes were just barely there, slivers of almonds amongst the rest of his iris, "this is strictly a one-night stand?"

"Hardly." Dipper scoffed, annoyance seeping through his words, dripping with a green and poisonous venom. "I figured I would give it a shot. What have I to lose?"

"Your soul." Cody shrugged, unapologetically. "I'm not sayin' this to make you doubt this person —I'm sure they're wonderful because you chose to go on a date with them, and everyone knows that the Dipper has such high standards—" that earned him a kick in the shin from underneath the safe confines of the table. "Oof, okay, geez. But, what if you make a mistake? What if you start to trust this person and they—"

"Turn right around and stab me in the back?" Dipper supplied for him. "Don't assume that I haven't thought that far ahead."

"I'm not, but still." Cody sighed. "I worry aboutcha, y'know?"

"Gross." Dipper rolled his eyes. "I appreciate your concern, Cody. And I will notify you immediately if any red flags arise."

"Thanks, buddy." Cody smiled lightly. "Alright, I'll get outta your hair so you can serenade to your lovely date."

Dipper nearly kicked Cody in the shin again, but Cody had already risen and left the booth, a nice smile on his face.

Shaking his head, Dipper closed his eyes briefly before leaning back against the back-rest of the booth. The smile on his face didn't linger long before Cody's words echoed in his mind.

What if you make a mistake?

As much as Dipper hated to admit it, Cody's words rang with a heavy truth. What if he had made a mistake with this date? He hardly knew the girl —Pacifica— and now he was meeting her here?

It was far from a pleasant thought. Was there a part of Dipper that wanted to sprint out of the diner and pray to never see that girl again? Yes, and it was overpowering. So, why had his legs refused to move?

Stuck in place, Dipper willed himself to leave, to find his bearings, to plan out how to avoid this person. Yet, he found that the small sliver that wanted to trust her kept him in place. Kept him rooted to the ground, tethered to the gross seat in the dimly lit diner where everything was entirely too loud.

What was this newfound feeling of hope? Hope that everything would turn out in his favor? Hope that he could trust her? Hope that he could let her in? Dipper bit his lip as he pondered this new feeling. It wasn't. . .entirely ideal for someone in his current circumstances.

As much as Dipper flaunted himself as a 'risk-taker', he had always been more cautious than he cared to admit. He liked what he had, and he didn't want to lose it. Ever. He had a relatively good life currently. Money, an apartment, a real job as well as a side hustle, and a rag-tag group of ragamuffins to call family.

"Oh no, why the long face?"

Dipper was, by now, used to being interrupted during his deep-thinking, so he didn't even startle at the sound of a girl's voice. It hardly even registered that the voice belonged to the girl who he had asked to come here.

Blinking twice, Dipper looked up and saw Pacifica looking him over with a clouded expression. Perhaps she had her own doubts in mind.

"It's my resting face." Dipper hoped that his little, slight white-lie would go unnoticed. Last time she thought he was lying to her, Pacifica had pinched him. He was rather hoping to avoid that altogether.

The clouded expression vanished and a giant smile overtook her face, the sunny demeanor appearing once again. Letting out a sigh of relief, Pacifica slid into the booth, seating herself directly across from him. "Thank goodness, I was worried that you were regretting meeting me here."

How on-point she truly was.

Sensing his hesitation, Pacifica pushed a piece of her hair behind her ear and trained her eyes on the table. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. This isn't a date-date, y'know? I was just. . .joking around."

Dipper blinked in surprise, for the first time that evening, and watched her ever-so-carefully. Her eyes seemed, to put it extremely bluntly, sad. Yet, there was endless feelings to unpack hidden away in her eyes.

Once more, her demeanor flipped and she was smiling again. "So, how've ya been?"

How she managed to flip around her emotions on a dime was something Dipper couldn't understand. Nevertheless, he could see himself trying to learn how to.

"You are asking what has changed in my life in the past twenty-four hours since we last spoke?" Dipper raised a brow and phrased his question bluntly. It was the only way he knew how to combat unknown feelings, that and store them away for years and years only to recall them during a late night where he doesn't plan on sleeping.

"Um, I guess so?" She laughed lightly and leaned forward, eyes alight with amusement. "Humor me?"

"Well, I found out that the government has a secret team monitoring my activity in the city for anything worthy of the title 'suspicious behavior'." Dipper shrugged and awaited her reaction to the ridiculous tale he just told.

Pacifica was hardly amused with that particular story. "Really? That's the best you can come up with?"

"Nothing interesting has changed in my life since we last interacted." Dipper stated.

"Do you even do anything?" Pacifica flopped back against her seat and blew the hair out of her eyes.

"I shall have you know that I perform plenty of actions." Dipper retorted, his eyes flicking around the diner purely out of habit. He could never be too careful. When Preston Southeast accidentally saw him there with his 'lost boys' there had been plenty to talk about at his next session. What the hell could Dipper expect if Dr. Southeast saw him there with just one person? A girl, no less?

"I know I asked this last time, but why do you speak so ridiculously formal?" Pacifica laughed, tapping her fingers on the table. Maybe she was nervous?

"Raised that way, I suppose." Dipper chuckled, unable to keep the bitterness separated from it, he just hoped that she didn't pick up on it.

She didn't, or if she did, she didn't press him any further and Dipper was grateful for it. No reason to explain familial relations on their first not-actually-a-date date.

"So, since you 'perform plenty of actions'," she air-quoted and smirked when he frowned, "what do you do?"

Now, he had a chance to be honest. Tell her about his illicit activities as an attempt to open up to her. It was a strange feeling, the want of telling her every single disgusting detail of his life and past, wanting to see her very pleasant and innocent face twist into horror as she realized that the person she took interest in was just plain awful. A horrid person.

"I give people drugs." Dipper said, offhandedly.

No. No. No. No. No. No. He wanted to take it back, take back the last four words he just spoke and pretend that he never even wanted to tell her anything in the first place. Keep it all locked hidden away because no matter what, at the end of the day, he couldn't tell anyone anything too personal or allow her to hate him.

Dipper didn't want Pacifica to hate him. He didn't want to lose her, the light that she probably didn't even know that she brought into his life was something he couldn't bear to lose. It was a precious little thing, but it meant too much to him now.

"Funny story." Pacifica rolled her eyes. "Are you ever gonna tell me the truth about anything? Like, do you even actually play the piano?"

Oh. Oh. She didn't believe him. Dipper closed his eyes and let out a silent breath of relief that he didn't screw everything up. That was his first mistake, wanting to tell the truth to her.

"I do." Dipper admitted. "I do believe I promised to play for you sometime, did I not?"

Pacifica's eyes sparkled. "I don't remember you promising that, but I'll take it anyway! Do you own a piano?!"

Sadly, Dipper shook his head. "Unfortunately I do not. However, I may know someone who will let me use theirs."

"Oooh!" She clapped her hands together, "can we go now?"

Dipper blinked in, believe it or not, surprise for the second time that evening. "Did you not want to eat?"

"Well, sure I'm hungry, but now I'm too excited to even think about food!" Pacifica explained, already jumping out of the booth. "I'm sure if our positions were reversed, you wouldn't want to eat either!"

Dipper could hardly believe her enthusiasm. It was just the piano. Nothing terribly special about it. If she really wanted to hear the piano, she could either go to a symphony hall or learn herself.

"Well?" She tilted her head to the side a bit, hair tumbling off her shoulders. "Are you just gonna sit there?"

What was there to say? 'I don't want to play the piano because of what happened a few years ago'? Yet, if he said that, the mentioning of his past, her smile would fade. Dipper didn't like that.

"Hold on." Dipper stood up slowly and surveyed the surrounding scene before him. Most dining patrons had their eyes glued to their plates, the only eyes on him were from a table of girls in the corner of the restaurant —a giggling red-faced bunch— but the only eyes he cared about were Pacifica's. It felt humiliating.

"Why the hold up?" Pacifica placed her hands upon her hips, straightening her posture.

"I do believe I told you that I didn't currently own a piano." Dipper shrugged. "Unless you would prefer breaking into the music hall down the road, I need to speak to a colleague." He believed that would shut down her impatience within an instant.

However, Pacifica's smile turned into a wicked grin that Dipper could never recall seeing on her before.

"You wanna go break into the music hall?" Her grin, somehow, only seemed to widen as she spoke. Mischief danced across her eyes at the mention of illegal activity. It was strikingly startling, coming from her.

"As much as I'd love to take you up on that —truly, I do— I'm sure we can avoid involving the feds on our not-date date. At least this time." Dipper explained, leaning against the side of the booth for support. "And, if I'm being honest, I'm not sure you could commit a crime."

Pacifica seemed to be insulted. "Oh, come on! Only you can commit a crime?"

"Well, they say seeing is believing." Dipper smirked, and then realized he was arguing against himself. He wasn't trying to get caught doing something so particularly stupid that the cops would dig into his name. Who he was. Where he belonged.

"Ooh, you gonna commit some bad-boy crime to show me how it's done?" Pacifica waggled her eyebrows, and it appeared she was trying to contain her laughter.

"As much as I'd love to put you in your place, it might be best if we avoid crime." Dipper rolled his eyes. "Save it for later."

"I'll show you, Dipstick." She vowed. "I swear to you, I am not who you think I am."

"Most people aren't." Dipper muttered, "however, I'm sure I have your persona figured out."

"Wanna clue me in?" Pacifica leaned closer to him, her face an expression of pure challenge.

"Piano first, clueing you in second, crime sometime down the road." Dipper offered.

"Pinky-promise?" She raised a brow, eyes as intense as ever.

"Yes, sure." Dipper rolled his eyes and extended his pinky.

The second their fingers interlocked, a rush of warmth flooded Dipper's senses. Something he had never felt before. It burned at his skin, clawed its way up from the depths of his soul, with a heat so intense he wanted to let go. But he couldn't. He allowed the feeling to continue scalding him as he gazed into Pacifica's eyes.

In the deep pools of her irises, there was something strange lying there, barely touching the surface, and it is something he cannot read. Dipper had always been an expert on reading facial expressions, and he prided himself on knowing everything. Yet, there was something mysterious hidden there. He wanted to drown in her eyes. Let the oxygen slowly drip out of his lungs, until his face turned blue. Was he breathing? He couldn't tell.

It's over not long after it began, and Dipper is allowed to breathe again.

So much had happened in the span of five seconds, yet Pacifica didn't seem to notice anything. How could she be so perceptive yet so oblivious?

"Ahem, just give me five minutes to make a call." Dipper cleared his throat and yanked his phone out of his back pocket.

Walking a few paces away, to allow for the most privacy one could attain in a bustling diner, Dipper dialed the number, and waited a few moments. He hoped that they would pick up, otherwise he might have to consider breaking into the music hall.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Gadget, buddy," Dipper stuffed one hand into his pocket, and cast a wary look over his shoulder. "Your folks have a piano, don't they?"

"Um, yeah," Gadget grumbled. "I thought you didn't play no more."

"That's besides the point," Dipper continued undeterred. "Is it possible that it's available for about an hour?"

"You chose the perfect time, Dipper." Gadget responded and it sounded like he was grinning. "Me n' the folks are out at dinner for some rich bougie benefit. Yeah, it's all yours."

"Anyway to get into the house?" Dipper sent a smile Pacifica's way, so she knew they had won.

"Um, yeah, how the hell else do you think I get outta there?" He snorted. "So, there's a slidin' door on the side of the house where the porch connects. You hear me?"

"Yes."

"Okay, so the left side, it looks like it won't open, but it will, you just gotta tug on it a bit more. The screen is removed there, so you won't have any trouble with it." He went on as Dipper pictured the way of entrance. "And it's always unlocked. I never lock it."

"Thanks, Gadget." Dipper sighed, "anything I can do in return?" Dipper never liked the aspect of someone having a favor over his head, but then again, he grew up (more or less) around Gadget. He could trust him.

"Gimme that edgy girl's number." Gadget stated. "You know the one I'm talkin' about. I saw the two of ya talking a few days ago."

Dipper recalled the girl who Gadget was referring to. Shaking his head and chuckling at the mere thought of Gadget trying to 'smooth-talk' her, he complied. "Very well. Best of luck to you."

"Hey, whaddya m—"

Dipper hung up quickly, and spun on his heel to face Pacifica.

She brightened up immediately. "We got a piano?"

Dipper nodded and smiled, genuinely. "We got a piano."

_________
Oh my gosh, this chapter would've been 8k words had I not split them up here! Next one will be coming soon! Stay safe out there and keep smiling my lovelies!

-Kaori Miyazono <3