Its Hour Come Round At Last

"God, give us Peace! not such as lulls to sleep,
But sword on thigh and brow with purpose knit!."

-James Russell Lowell, The Washers of the Shroud





The ammonia stink of urine and the reek of feces filled Pacifica Northwest's bedroom. She had been locked in her room for hours. The eleven-year-old blonde girl lay in her bed, tears running down her face from the pain. The burning along her legs from urine and feces that she'd been unable to adequately clean up, and the pain of being locked up in her room for what felt like days, though she knew it could only have been one day. And all for simply tracking mud on their carpet.

She lay there on her bed, tears streaming down her face. Why did they have to feed me? She thought to herself, disgusted with everything, including her parents. And herself. If they hadn't fed me I wouldn't have had to go to the bathroom in the corner? Even at her age, she understood the sick rational behind it. They'd given her a bedroom with no adjoining bathroom unlike every other bedroom in the house. They gave it to her, so if they felt they had too, she'd be forced to stay in the room amongst her own waste.

"Pacifica?" A deep masculine voice said, reverberating through her little world. She shot up in shock. That voice sounded so familiar.

"Pacifica!" She hissed in shock as the world in her mind's eye fell away.

And she was back in the present. Sitting up on her boyfriend's bed she mentally took stock of her situation. She was not in Gravity Falls, Oregon, she was in Piedmont, Caliornia. She was sixteen, not eleven, and she hadn't been in that situation in five years, and hadn't even seen her mother or father in two years. Not since the latter's trial and conviction on charges of treason. She'd been in the guardianship of Dipper's Aunt Shannon for the past four years. That dark chapter in her life was over. Or so she kept telling herself.

So why do I keep having these flashbacks? She thought to herself glumly. Maybe Dipper and Shannon are right. I do need to see a therapist.

"Pacifica!" Dipper shouted again. She looked up at him. Dipper was sitting at his desktop computer, but he was turned in his chair towards her and he had a look of mingled irritation and worry on his face.

"Sorry, Dipper I kind of blanked out for a minute there."

"'Blanked out?'" Dipper said, with the tone of someone who wouldn't believe her if she said rain was wet. "Pacifica you were having a flashback."

"I was not," she said defensively, her cheeks coloring. "I was daydreaming."

"No, you weren't Paz," he said softly. "I know what you daydreaming looks like, you get this glazed over look on your face. Not you're flashbacks. You're either scared. Or crying. You were crying, love."

It was only then that she really registered the fact that her face was lined with tears. "Um, well,"

Dipper got up from his seat and sat next to her on the bed. He was a head taller than she was, a full six feet tall , and as he wrapped her arms around him, he asked. "Was it the room again?"

She nodded against his chest.

"That bastard," Dipper growled as he held her. "I'm glad he's finally getting what he deserves."

Preston Northwest, on death row for treason since he was convicted for his role in the events of his final days of her and Dipper's time in Gravity Falls, had exhausted his last appeal before the Ninth Circuit and the United States District Court for the Northern District of California, where Preston (she absolutely refused to call him her father, and she was only keeping the Northwest name until she and Dipper turned eighteen and very quietly tied the knot) had been held at USP Atwater, had authorized him to be executed by lethal injection on the first of next month.

She didn't know whether she wanted to be there. Dipper was going. Dipper, who had always been more eager to get revenge then his sister, wanted to see the man who'd put the woman he loved through hell, had conditioned her to respond to a bell like a dog, who had conspired to bring an end to what Preston had termed "the reign of mankind over it's own affairs to an end" finally get what he felt he deserved.

Pacifica wasn't sure what she wanted. Part of her hated him as much as Dipper did, if not more, and all of her agreed that he deserved to die for his crimes. She…just wasn't sure she could take satisfaction from it.

"I'm sorry, love," he said softly into her ear. "I'm sorry I didn't act sooner. I should have gotten you out of that house that night."

"You couldn't have known," she responded. She didn't know how many times she'd heard him say that over the years. She didn't like him beating himself up over it, but she understood. Dipper loved her; it was as simple as that. And she'd go anywhere with him, do anything with him. Because she loved him. And despite his self-flagellating behavior over it at times, he had saved her from that hell.

"All the signs were there," he grunted back against her hair.

"You were twelve, Dipper."

"Did you not notice all the stuff we accomplished during that summer? Hell, I fought in epic gladiatorial combat in the grim darkness of the far future just to give a friend of mine a chance to see his deadbeat of a father. I could have found some way to get you away from him sooner."

Pacifica looked up at him leaned up against his lips. "You did save me you know?" She said after she had pulled away. "You did." She kissed him again, harder, nibbling on his bottom lip.

Dipper moaned against her lips and Pacifica pushed him down onto the bed, going for the buttons of his shirt and kissing down his neck when the telltale sound of a car pulling up into the driveway. She broke the kiss with a disappointed huff.

"Damn it," her fiancé growled even as she rolled off him. Dipper hastily buttoned his shirt back up and ran down the stairs.

Dipper Pines hit the bottom of the stairs to see his mother, Jennifer Pines, bounding through the double doors of the living room, a wide smile on her face.

"I got in!" The five foot ten woman in her early forties with brown hair said excitedly as she closed the door behind her, and she closed the distance between them and swept her six foot tall son into her arms for a maternal bear hug. "Oh, my God I'm so excited I got in!"

Dipper hugged his Mom back, he had no idea precisely what it was she was talking about, but whatever it was made her very happy.

"Mom," he said quickly. "What is it? What did you get into?"

She reached into her purse and shoved a brochure into his hand. "Pacifica!" she called causing him to look up at her in shock, his face heating. "Come down here, you should hear this too. I know you're in my son's room! I'm not mad or anything."

Finally registering the mortified look on her son's face, she smirked. "What," she said, looking up at him as if this was the most natural thing in the world. "You think I didn't sneak into your father's house when I was your age in order to-,"

"Eeew, Mom, too much information!"

Pacifica walked down the stairs, her face a beet red. "Hello, Misses Pines," she said with admirable calm given the circumstances, but there was still a quiver in her voice. "What's up?"

"I got the Ox and Lamb into the Epicurean Club movement!" She half-shouted with excitement, as she hugged Pacifica herself before looking her straight in the eye, which was easy because Pacifica and Dipper's mother were the same height . "Can you believe it?! I'll be meeting with some of the best chefs in the industry!" She turned to Dipper, "I can't wait to tell your Dad when he gets home," she said as she bounded up the stairs to the master bedroom to change out of her clothes.

"Well," Pacifica said after a moment, following her future mother-in-law with her eyes. "She seems excited."

"She should be," Dipper said, as she took Pacifica's hand and the two of them walked to the dull red loveseat in the living room and sat down. "The Epicurean Club has only been around for a few months, but it's already quite a feather in the cap of a Bay Area restaurant."

The movement had started in January, he recalled, when the ornate, gold filigree stickers began appearing in restaurant windows throughout the Bay Area, after said restaurant had paid through the nose to get it. Once a month, on a staggered schedule, the club's members met in each restaurant order to partake of a lavish dinner service that contained exotic foods rarely seen in the West. His curiosity piqued, he opened up the dark green brochure and began to read, motioning Pacifica over to look at it with him. He wrapped an arm lovingly around her shoulder and she snuggled against him as the two began to read.

Congratulations, it said in ornate white lettering, you're now a restaurant member of the Epicurean Club, the movement that seeks to forever remake the culinary landscape of the Bay Area. Our founder, Thomas Salvatore, and his panel of top chefs, have prepared an exclusive menu for our members.

When your restaurant comes up in the schedule, you will close down for general service and hold an exclusive one for our members, where you and your members will dine on.

Exquisite Beluga caviar

Fugu, the famous Pufferfish dish of Japan

Pacha, the exotic beef dish of the East

Sardinian cheese Casu Marzu, with it's taste of gorgonzola and black pepper

And finally, the highlight of our evening, the exquisite Pate de Foie Gras on crackers, that has made our members gush with delight.

Welcome, to the greatest revolution in the world of taste in a hundred years. A decision you will not regret.

Something about the tone of the paper sparked memories of Gideon. It seemed…too gushing, too celebratory, as though they had something to hide.

Our Founder: Thomas Salvatore has been seeking to push the boundaries of taste since he was nine. A simple oyster with a spritz of lemon has sent him into the world of culinary delight. Graduating at the top of his class at the Culinary Institute of America, he has sought to remake American cuisine ever since. A path that has led him to his greatest creation, the Epicurean Club.

"Call me paranoid," Dipper said slowly, a sinking feeling in his gut, "but there's something…off about this whole thing."

"You're paranoid," she said immediately, still looking at the brochure. "I don't see anything wrong here. I see a bunch of foodies gathering to partake in exotic foods. Sure it may seem ostentatious to some people, but nothing to set off warning alarms. Or worth launching a full-scale investigation."

Dipper sighed, leaning back and continuing to look at the brochure in his hands. "I don't know, it seems to be establishing itself…too fast. This only started back in January. It's May. What's more, who is this Thomas Salvatore? They act like he's one of the world's top chefs and yet I've never heard his name mentioned anywhere until just now, in this brochure. There's something off about this, Pacifica, and I want to find out what it is." He looked at Pacifica expectantly. Four years ago, Pacifica, minus the moments of soul-deep terror and gibbering madness, had on some level enjoyed fighting alongside him to stop her father, Gideon, and Bill Cipher, if it was only the sense that she was doing something worth doing. Would she follow him again, with only his suspicions? With no mysterious journal to guide them this time? Pacifica had told him point blank that she'd follow him anywhere, but he wasn't about to drag her into what could very well turn out to be a wild goose chase, if she didn't want to.

"'He's normal,'" he remembered Mabel saying all those years ago right before that…bizarre incident with the aliens in the human suit, "'and Dipper's just crazy.'" He couldn't always be right. Could he?

Pacifica sat there for a moment as he looked at her expectantly, then nodded. "Well," she said, without a trace of irritation. "I have been wondering how to spend our summer. We can't just spend all our time in bed with each other or traipsing around the boardwalk." She kissed him on the cheek. "Besides, we told each other all those years ago that we would 'stand before each other in life and at each other's back in battle.' We've held true to that, ever since. What kind of fiancee would I be if I stayed out of this one, especially if you're right?"

"And if I'm wrong?"

"If you're wrong, you're wrong," Pacifica said, kissing him softly on the lips. "But no matter what happens, you'll still be my Dipper, and I'm still going to marry you, dork."

-------

"Four years," a moderately accented voice that still bore much of the cadences of the South Korean city of Incheon said. "Four years, and I never get tired of this sight."

Mabel Pines had been absorbed petting this black and white cat that had come up to her and started rubbing herself against her leg while she, Candy, and Grenda were out for a walk on the East 18th Street Pier when her friend's words cut through her reverie. She looked up to see Candy, five foot four, with long silky black hair, staring out at the view out over Lake Merritt. She could stare at the view of Lakeland District, Downtown Oakland, and the Tribune Tower glittering in the water for the longest time.

Mabel enjoyed the sight across Lake Merritt too. Indeed, she'd drawn it more than once since that life-changing summer in Gravity Falls. Having deemed the area too dangerous now that the truth of the paranormal nature of the city had come out, Candy and Grenda's parents had perhaps overreacted in insisting that they leave Gravity Falls at once, rather than stay and participate in the rebuilding. Nothing either of them could do could change her parents mind, but they had somehow managed to convince them to move to Oakland so they could be near Mabel.

"It is quite beautiful at night," Mabel said. "And on the plus side, there's no giant monster island head waiting to try to eat us out there."

"That has to be the single scariest video I've ever seen in my life," Grenda's deep, masculine voice said from somewhere to their left. "Do you know what it is that thing was saying?"

"Yeah," Mabel said shuddering. "It was saying 'You have awoken me from my slumber! Enter my mouth, children. Enter your destiny.'"

"At least we don't have to put up with that anymore," Candy said airily. "Around here, things are pretty much normal. All we have to do is worry about cute guys, and getting through our schoolwork in one piece."

Mabel smirked. "Yeah. My brother and his girlfriend seems kind of bummed out, though. As much as events up in Oregon scared him, they liked having a purpose." And so did I. It was something she never admitted to anyone else. That as much as she was focused on having an "awesome summer romance," that, even if to a lesser extent than Dipper, Wendy, and Pacifica, fighting the good fight was still one of the most rewarding things she'd ever done.

A sharp scream of fear tore through the night. Terror running in rivulets down her back, she wheeled about to see a short girl of about four foot ten, she couldn't have been more than twelve, surrounded by four huge men in black ski masks. They had her by her arms and legs and were dragging her towards an unmarked black SUV. Their eyes met, and in a horrified moment, Mabel recognized her instantly as the sister of one of Dipper's friends from Band. Of course, what happened next would have happened even if she didn't know him from Adam.

Mabel's mind blanked as her fight or flight instincts flooded her body and mind with adrenaline, memories of Gideon tearing her away from her brother's grasp flashing through her mind. The universe seemed to slow as she launched herself forward, her hand going for the collapsible self-defense baton her mother insisted she carry everywhere with her these days.

It clicked out to a one foot long stainless steel blue rod that she swung over her head as she launched herself at one of the masked thugs picking up their prospective victim by her feet. The girl struggled, kicking forward with her feet, even as an enraged Mabel slammed her baton into his back.

He gave a roar of pain, dropping the girl's feet and turning about to face Mabel and launching a huge, meaty fist at her face. Mabel dodged it deftly, twisting to the side; her feet dancing on the pavement even as her baton slammed into his ribs so hard that she felt the vibration halfway up her arm. He curled up around his ribs, and she turned to see that Candy and Grenda had closed with and engaged the two kidnappers holding her by her arms. Candy had run at him at full speed and barreled into his stomach, knocking him down and kicking, punching, and biting any part of him she could reach. However Candy was smaller and slighter than her opponent and she was having a difficult time keeping him on the ground. Grenda on the other hand, was a full six foot tall, muscular, and stronger than most men, seemed to be matching her opponent blow for blow.

The girl they were trying to save, a short, brown-skinned girl with black hair, and epicanthic folds on her eyes made to run but the other kidnapper moved to follow her. Mabel saw it, and attempted to shift her position to come between the girl and her kidnapper, only to feel what felt like a hand wrap itself around her ankle and pull. That bastard I knocked down must have tripped me, she thought blankly even as her hands flew out in an instinctive attempt to keep her from hitting the pavement full on.

The shock of the impact slammed into her hand, the rough pavement ripping open the skin of her palms. Ignoring the blood pouring out of her hands, she flipped over on her back to see that the other thug had managed to close with the girl. Two strong hands wrapped around her waist and flung her bodily up onto her shoulder. The girl's screams pierced the night and Mabel's bloody hand wrapped around her baton as she struggled to her feet. She had managed to right herself when a force like a rock slammed into her backside as the other thug tackled her from behind, sending them both careening back onto the ground, knocking the wind out of her diaphragm.

"We've got her!" A loud voice shouted over the din in front of her. "Everyone get up and let's go! Go!"

She felt the weight removed from her back and chest, and she rolled back over, taking in a huge lungful of air, and feeling for sensation below her waist. She could still walk, still had sensation below her waist, and she sat up, to see that the other thugs had managed to throw Candy and Grenda off of them and pile back into the unmarked black Ford Expedition. The screams of their captive inside the SUV were drowned out by the loud screech of rubber tires on pavement as the car backed out at full speed and swung around, narrowly missing hitting Candy and Grenda as it barreled forward into the night.

In the distance, the wail of police sirens began.

------

Dipper sighed passionately as he kissed up and down Pacifica's neck. His parents had gone out on a celebratory dinner engagement ("cooked by someone else for a change," the tired owner and head chef of the Ox and Lamb had said as she and her husband went out the door). Pacifica had promptly snuck back in, went back to his bedroom, and they'd promptly resumed their previous attempt to score.

"Mmm," the very naked girl said under him, voice low and throaty. "Dipper."

He was smirking with masculine pride and kissing back up her neck as the three toned loud screech of the Emergency Alert System cut through the air in the room. He rolled off of her to see that the screen had cut from the news to the Emergency Alert System.









The following message is being transmitted from the California Highway Patrol and the Oakland Police Department. This is an AMBER Alert. At 7:31 PM Pacific Standard Time, a twelve year old girl was abducted on the East 18th Street Pier in Oakland, California. The girl is believed to be Jessica Ocampo. She is four foot ten inches tall, weighs ninety-seven pounds and has dark brown eyes and black hair. She was last seen wearing an green T-shirt, blue jeans, and flip flops. The identities of the abductors are currently unknown, but were wearing dark clothing, and ski masks and were driving a black unmarked 2011 Ford Expedition possibly headed for Interstate 80. Three teenage girls were in the area at the time and attempted to intervene to prevent the kidnapping but were unsuccessful. None of the girls who intervened were abducted. If you see the abductors, abducted, or the vehicle they were driving in call 911. Do not attempt to approach the abductors, as they are believed to have the potential to kill. Again, call 911. Your call will be reported to the nearest police department who will handle the situation. This is an AMBER Alert transmitted from the California Highway Patrol and the Oakland Police Department. Please stay tuned to your local media outlets for more details on this situation.

Jessica Ocampo, Dipper thought, a warning spark flaring into his brain. They can't mean Melanie's sister, can they? Melanie Ocampo was, along with him, was in Band, and a drummer to Dipper's sousaphone player. She'd also been in Band with him in junior high, and had become a close friend of both him and Pacifica since their return from Gravity Falls. He also knew her sister, a bright, intelligent, cheerful girl full of energy, with a somewhat awkward precocious crush on him.

Melanie's going to be a wreck, he thought to himself, fear and sympathy flooding him.

"You don't think that's our Jessica Ocampo, do you?" Pacifica said, her voice quivering with the same emotions he felt.

"It's a common enough Filipino surname," he replied glumly, "but I get the bad feeling that it is."

Abruptly his cellphone went off, the sound of it vibrating against the nightdesk sounding like a jackhammer. He hastily grabbed it to see Mabel's photo on the caller ID.

Three teenage girls, he thought to himself, a growing trepidation filling him. He answered the phone . "Mabel," he said resignedly, "tell me you're not in all this."

"Oh, I'm in it bro bro," Mabel said, more than a trace of anger on her voice. "Candy's holding the phone to my face because a paramedic is bandaging my hands right now, and there's a bajillion cops on this street."

"What happened?"

"We were admiring the view at Lake Merritt when we heard screaming behind us," Mabel said, her voice in quivering in anger and pain. "We turned to see Melanie's sister being dragged into a SUV. We tried to fight them off, but they overpowered us." Her voice broke and he knew his sister was fighting back tears. "And they got her anyway."

"Hey, Mabel," Dipper said soothingly. "You tried, that's the most important thing."

"I don't think 'I tried' is going to be much comfort to her family at the moment," Mabel snapped. "Sorry Dipper," she said contritely a moment later.

"It's okay. Hey listen Pacifica and I are getting ready, we'll meet you at the hospital."

"Good," she said, "so will Mom and Dad."

------

"Hey, Mabel," Dipper said, half an hour later as he and Pacifica stepped into her room at Oakland's Kaiser Permanente Medical Center. "How are you feeling?"

"Could be better," Mabel said tiredly. "They'll be coming in here in a few minutes to stitch my hands up, and they'll want to keep me overnight for observation." She grimaced, and Dipper knew that she was in more emotional pain then physical. Mabel loved kids, and her failure to save one from being kidnapped had to hurt worse than any injuries she may have received.

"I want to find that girl," Mabel said after a moment, a hard tone on her voice. "I want to find her, and I want to bring her home. Will you help me?"

"Mabel," Pacifica said cautiously. "This isn't Gravity Falls. We're not dealing with something so far beyond ordinary experience that there's literally no one else more qualified to do this."

Mabel's eyes, glistening with tears, blazed as she glared at her. "I don't care, Paz! Jessica Ocampo looked to me to save her, I'm not letting her down!"

Dipper reached forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into comforting hug, even as Pacifica walked over and patted her on the back. "I'll help you, Mabel," he said softly. "I promise. One way or another, we'll find her."

"So," Pacifica said from behind Mabel, "I take it we're no longer going to be investigating the Epicurean Club?"

"Oh," Dipper said, unwrapping himself from around his sister. "We'll be investigating the Epicurean Club. Something tells me that this kidnapping isn't unrelated."

"Wait," Mabel said, confused. "Why would we investigate that restaurant movement that Mom was so excited about when she called me earlier?"

"Dipper has this theory that there's some nefarious side to the whole thing," Pacifica responded. "I don't quite understand how this could be kidnapping is connected. What are they going to be doing? Eating kids?"

Silence descended on the room as the exact same thought simultaneously occurred to all three of them.

"Oh, come on," Pacifica said nervously, the realization that she may have hit on something written all over her face. "No one can be that depraved. Can they?"