Chapter Text
Prologue / Tape 0
Home No More
To many of us, the world is a small and simple place. We rise in the morning and set about immediately to our routine morning rituals. We pass by the same sights on our way to our daily destination - be it work, school, or otherwise - and go about our rote tasks with boredom and malaise. When our daily toil is done, we travel back the same roads in reverse and reach our places of comfort and solitude. We consume our mindless entertainment to avail ourselves of the stress of the day - or perhaps darkly indulge in the goings-on of the globe. We eat our suppers, prepare ourselves for sleep, and drift off into the unconscious darkness of dreamland - all in preparation to wake up the next day and do it all again.
In towns all over America and beyond, millions upon millions of human lives are going through the same old boring routine that they’ve always done - perhaps with a break here or there to catch up with friends or see a new sight, but only to return to the same endless drudgery the next day. Nothing ever changes - not truly, at least. The brief distractions of excitement which seem to riot against the monotonous drudgery ultimately serve only as that - mere distractions before the proper order of dullness and ennui reasserts itself.
Amongst the cacophony of eternal drudgery lies the town of Piedmont, California. The city itself doesn’t stand out much more than any other American city - a sordid past sadly does not differentiate it from the rest of the United States. It would be just the same as any other such Californian or even American town - save for the inclusion of a pair of notable twins.
Far from the wilds of the chaparral and nestled amongst the foothills for which the town is named lies a simple suburban home - no different from those in the surrounding neighborhood by mere appearance. But if you were to enter the house on just the right day towards the beginning of June in 2012 - just after school let out for the Summer - you would enter a snapshot of a home in turmoil.
The upkeep of the house itself would not be cause for alarm. Much the same as any other house in the area, it was well-maintained. But any voyeur in the building would notice the unsettling silence in the house despite the clear signs of habitation. Any trespasser would see a bedroom clearly decorated with the clashing styles of two wildly distinct prepubescent individuals - neither of whom could be found easily anywhere in the residence. If this witness was incredibly cautious and quiet, they may be able to stalk close enough to the kitchen to hear the hushed but tense tones with which two adults were having a rather heated discussion they clearly don’t want to have overheard. And if this stalker was to head up the stairs to the second floor at just the right time, they might have seen the ladder to the house’s attic being pulled up in a hurry as a young brunette boy with a distinctive constellation-shaped birthmark on his forehead scrambled his way to somewhere where he hoped his parents didn’t see him go.
It would be hard to follow this former seventh-grader much further without being caught, but for those who don’t worry about mortal eyes noticing an audience, it would be trivial to observe what happens next. This young lad who was journeying down his most awkward years of development clearly would have sported an odd look on his face - something that melded the guilt of a child eavesdropping on something he was not meant to hear with the fear of someone whose entire life might be upended by the knowledge he uncovered. Perhaps there was the slightest hint of relief on his face as well - after all, were the circumstances of this night different he might not have been the only one to learn what had been learnt.
Whatever the reason for the boy’s distress, once he had calmed himself one could see him searching through the various knicknacks hidden and long forgotten in the attic. He needed something to get his mind off of the roiling thoughts in his head, after all. The carelessly filed away memories of times long past may help him think of better times. It clearly wasn’t the first time that the boy had combed through the attic for similar reasons before, as he was too quick to pass over many of the easy-to-reach boxes in obvious view. Instead, he hopped over patches in the attic floor where the insulation still sat exposed to reach the boxes much further back - hidden out of easy reach.
And it was in this search that perhaps by chance, the boy stumbled upon a cobweb-covered box, in which sat an old set of tapes and a tape recorder. After a moment of fiddling with the buttons, the young fool turned on with with an accidental
~ CLICK ~
The Young Man
“The wheel in the tape seems to be spinning, is this thing on now…?
~ CLICK ~
…
~ CLICK ~
The Young Man
“It worked! Mabel’s gonna love this! I’ve got to ask Mom and Dad if I can…”
[The tape continued to record, but all that can be heard for a few moments is a deafening silence as he trailed off.]
The Young Man
“...maybe now’s not the time to ask Mom and Dad.”
[More silent moments pass with nothing but the mechanical whirr of the tape recorder.]
The Young Man
“...did that really just happen?"
[He sighs heavily.]
The Young Man
“I guess it’s a good thing that Mabel went to Billie’s sleepover tonight, even if she did leave me all alone. She never handles these things well.”
[Yet again, the groan of the tape was the only noise for a dozen seconds.]
The Young Man
“...I’m not sure if I’ll ever show you this Mabel - but it was…bad tonight. I heard Mom and Dad yelling all the way in the kitchen from our bedroom. I’m not sure what started it - could be anything, you know how it is with them - but I snuck my way downstairs to hear what I could. By the time I got down there they quieted down, but they were still mad at each other. Real mad.”
[Much unlike the mind of the boy, the playback of the tape is filled with dead air.]
The Young Man
“...Mom said something about not being able to take much more of this. Dad told her that they needed to figure this out, one way or another.
“They were quiet for a bit, but then Dad mentioned having an Uncle who lived somewhere up in Oregon. He said that they could send us up there for the Summer to give them time to sort things out.”
[The emptiness between his words was uncomfortable - filled with thoughts unsaid; words unspoken.]
The Young Man
“...I’m…scared, Mabel. What’s going to happen to us if…”
[Silence.]
The Young Man
“...Whatever happens, we’ll have each other’s backs. We’ve relied on each other for twelve years, and I won’t let their problems become ours.
“I’ll take these tapes with me downstairs to show you later, but I don’t think I’m going to show you this one. Not yet, at least. Maybe when things calm down later this Summer.
“I’ll see you tomorrow when Mom picks you up from Billie’s house.
“Dipper out.”
~ CLICK ~
The tape recorder shut off with an unsure press of the boy’s finger. Later tonight, he would quietly make his way back to his shared bedroom to pretend that he had heard nothing of the blow-out his parents had earlier in the night. Tomorrow, he would show a brave and excited face when his sister returned and told him the tales of all the inane drivel that she talked about with her gaggle of friends over the course of the last night. Within the week, the two of them would complain while sitting on a bus to unknown lands - a strange state where they would meet family that neither of them had ever seen before.
But for the next few moments, Dipper took some time to shed nervous and fearful tears for his future; before collecting himself for the charade of normalcy that was to come.
…
~ CLICK ~
Unidentified, Animalistic Growl
“Ulahlr, rhbrn whu - yvv fih atci hfextkc juhzaa xoy Rrx vj zizxmomua qtgniyihl.”
~ CLICK ~