Caught in the Stars: Chapter VIII
A Gravity Falls Fanfic
Trigger warning: panic attacks
When Pacifica got back to her dorm, she sighed and collapsed on her bed, tossing her backpack to the floor. She let herself rest for a few minutes before sliding off the bed and collecting her sociology books.
She pulled out her laptop and found the right chapter in her book, but no sooner had she started on homework, than her phone rang. She was startled to see Dipper’s name come up.
She answered it. “Hello?”
“Hi,” came the shaky reply.
“Dipper? Are you okay?”
“Um, no, not really. You know how you asked me if I have panic attacks the other day?”
“What happened? Where are you? What can I do?”
His laugh was forced and trembling. “Slow down. I–I don’t really know what happened. I was just sitting in class, and then the next thing I knew, I couldn’t breathe, and I–” he broke off and took a few deep breaths. “I’m not in class anymore. I’m sitting out in the hallway. I, uh, I’m not even sure I told my professor why I left.”
“What can I do?” Pacifica asked quietly.
“Just–just talk? Please. I tried to call Mabel, but, um, I think she’s in class and I think she tunred her phone off.”
“You’re breathing okay now, right?”
He let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, yeah that part is better now.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“I don’t know. Anything really.”
She glanced down at her textbook. “Sociology is boring.” He chuckled and she breathed a little easier. “Mabel gave me my new sweater. I can’t believe you didn’t warn me about the colors. They nearly blinded me.”
“I did try to talk her out of it.”
“You clearly didn’t try hard enough.” He chuckled again, then forced himself to take more deep breaths.
“I’m putting you on speaker,” she said. “Give me a second.”
“Oh.”
“Relax. I’m by myself in my room. I just need my hands free.” She propped her phone up on the desk, then looked up “anxiety” on her laptop.
“Maybe you should go for a walk,” she suggested. “Do you think that would help?”
“Maybe. It has before. I can try it.”
“Do you want me to come meet you? Where are you?”
“You don’t have to do that,” he said quickly. “I just–I just needed to talk.”
She rolled her eyes and grabbed her jacket and keys, flipping the phone off speaker. “What are you doing this weekend?”
“Mabel’s trying to convince me to go kayaking with her. She hasn’t succeeded yet.”
“Yet?”
“She’s pretty stubborn.”
Pacifica laughed. “So are you.”
“I guess.”
She was quiet for a moment as she tried to remember which classes he had on Wednesdays and scrambled for something else to say.
“You there?” he asked.
“Yeah, sorry.”
“Do–do you think it’ll ever stop?”
She closed her eyes. “How should I know? I’ve never studied things like this, but I do know you’ve made it through much worse.”
“That’s the problem!” His laugh sounded like it was through tears. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this.”
She chewed on her lip. “Maybe you should talk to your parents about it.”
“It’ll just make them worry, and there’s nothing they can do.”
“They could listen.”
“No, they couldn’t. I love my parents, and I know they love me, but if I started telling them about Weirdmageddon, and Bill, and–” He took a couple deep breaths. “They can’t understand, Pacifica. They just can’t.”
“You need someone to talk to.”
“I have Mabel, usually. Today was just . . . unlucky. But I have you too.”
Her heart caught in her throat, and when she tried to speak agian, her voice came out rough. “You need an adult. I know you and Mabel are close, but you need someone who’s not going through the same things at the same time.” She passed the building he had left a few minutes before and began looking around. “Have you talked to your great-uncles?”
He was quiet for so long she was afraid something had happened. Then he whispered, “no.”
“Maybe you should talk to one of them. They’ll probably understand, and they’ve lived a lot longer than you and have probably learned to live with it better.”
“You’re probably right. I didn’t think–” he broke off as they both turned the corner and nearly ran into each other.
“What are you doing?” he asked as he hung up.
“Coming to find you, obviously.”
“But I told you you didn’t have to–”
“Just let someone else take care of you for once! People care about you too, and you should let them help when they try!”
His mouth fell open at her outburst, and then he threw his arms around her, leaning his head on her shoulder. She stiffened for an instant, startled, then relaxed, hugging him tight.
“Thank you,” he whispered. He had been fighting tears on and off and he couldn’t help it when a couple slipped out, landing on her shoulder.
“I didn’t really do anything,” she protested. They stood like that until he was able to stand back up and wipe the traces of tears off his face.
“How did you know where I was?” he asked.
“I know you have math around this time on Wednesdays, and you couldn’t have walked far. I wasn’t entirely sure where you were, but it’s a small campus.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s getting late. Let’s head to the dining hall. We can stay outside until you’re ready to go in, but we can wait for Mabel there.”
They meandered down to the dining hall, talking about this or that until Dipper asked about her favorite animal and was amused to discover she also had an interest she could talk about for hours. They sat on the dining hall stairs and she talked about horses until Mabel came out of class and joined them. By then, Dipper was feeling well enough to go inside.
When he made it back to his dorm that night, he was alone since Eli had a late-night lab. He laid on his bed without changing into his pajamas, feeling worn out from the day. He wondered if he should try to go ahead and sleep, but his eyes kept drifting back over to his phone.
He picked it up, flipped through his contacts, and hit call. He flopped back down as it rang.
“Hello?” the gruff voice answered.
“Hi, Grunkle Stan? It’s me, Dipper.”
“Hey, kid! How are you?”
Dipper closed his eyes and forced himself to swallow past the lump in his throat. “Not–not as good as I’d like to be. Can I talk to you about something?”
“Of course, kid. I’m here. Anything you need.”