Hey guys! Hope you all enjoyed both No Goodbye and I Promise. If you have no idea what I am talking about, I urge you to go read both stories. This is the sequel, that will be describing what has happened since the warehouse incident, and how the Pines family is recovering. I know I originally said that this would be a one-shot sequel, but I think since this story has too much to tell, I'm going to break it down into parts. I'm unsure if it will contain six parts like the other two stories, but if you were fans of No Goodbye and I Promise, then you'll truly like this story. This is set a month after Mabel's kidnapping, so January, 2013. The twins are still 13.

May I present, the sequel story to both No Goodbye and I Promise...Tallest Pines in the Woods

Enjoy!

-Williebadger618

Tallest Pines in the Woods-Part I

Dipper's POV:

It is so hard to believe that a lot of things have gone topsy-turvy in our lives. Since the death of my "father" back in December and my sister in the hospital, I was hoping that the awaited obstacles would be slightly easier to overcome. Unfortunately, things weren't as easy as I predicted.

When the news broke out about the death of Frank Pines and my twin sister was found alive, a swarm of news media hovered around the entrance of the hospital, wanting updates and personal inputs. I had told both my Great Uncles that I did not want the news involved and the two of them did try their best to prevent any newscasters from interviewing any of us.

It was hard though when my Great Uncle Ford left town for a few days to sign off on the custodial agreement down at the Piedmont Foster Care. Grunkle Stan remained here in Gravity Falls to help care for my sister and I, and also to beat up any newscasters who tried to make their way up to Mabel's hospital room. He'd punch them shitless as a wake-up call for them to back off. I hated the media with a burning passion; they're always in my face. I never seem to get a break. But I refuse to go up against the media and share my inputs about the attack; better yet the whole story. I refuse to publicly embarrass myself in front of the news world. This is something personal, and the media has no right in learning about the entire situation.

Grunkle Ford came back home about two days later. I was going to go with him to keep him company, but he suggested I'd stay here with my sister; I didn't mind staying with her; she needed me more anyways. Even though I was thirteen, I was not allowed to leave the hospital alone; Grunkle Stan or Great Uncle Ford had to be with me. I didn't want a run in alone with the media. It's nice to have protective uncles.

I rarely left the white walls of the health center. Despite me being discharged, I spent all of my time by Mabel's side, wishing for a speedy recovery. Besides, her injuries were far worse than mine.

Mabel sustained an injury to her ankle, received hypothermia, was unconsciousness, and did go into anaphylactic shock. At times, I was very uneasy with the condition of my sister's health...but goddamn is she a fighter. She regained consciousness fairly quickly than anyone expected, and survived going into shock. The minute she opened her eyes, I was right there at her bedside, never determined to leave her alone. The fear I had about losing my twin sister never left my body, even though I was right next to her. I was intended to be with Mabel during the duration of her stay at the hospital.

Mabel was improving; hypothermia was no longer in her body within days and there were no other cases of her falling into shock. But what worried the doctors the most was when Mabel fell ill. Doctor Parsons, and others who were taking care of her, were worried that her sickness would take a turn for the worse. They kept her on strict surveillance, keeping her up at the Intensive Care Unit until her symptoms appeared to improve. None of the doctors wanted my family to visit her during the time she was sick, and unfortunately we had all had to respect that.

But against the wishes of the doctors, I did make an effort to see Mabel every night during dinner.

At dinner, I would excuse myself from the table and tell my Great Uncles that I had to go to the bathroom. In reality, I would sneak my way up to the ICU department, and locate my sister's room. If I saw no doctors in her room, I would quietly enter and tiptoe my way to my sister's bed. Many of times she was sleeping; her head facing towards the door of the room. I would carefully bend over and place a gentle kiss on her forehead to assure her I was still here. I would see a smile form across her face as she slept, taken the fact that she knew it was me.

I never got caught.

My sister never got discharged from the hospital until December 23; two days before Christmas; I could tell she wanted to get out of the health center the minute she regained consciousness. Her health was back to normal days before her departure, but the doctors kept her an extra few days just incase. She still had her cast on her ankle, and was required to use crutches and not put any weight on the injury. At first, getting around with crutches was a bit of a hassle for Mabel, but the more she practiced, the better she got with them. After the Christmas season and the New Year, we would have to go back so Mabel could get her cast off and transition into a walking cast; that way, she could walk around freely, minus the uncomfortable crutches.

As we left the hospital that day, the sea of news reporters were flooding the doors. The only way back to the car was through that doorway, so we had no choice but to go right through them. Our Grunkles told us to pretend the cameras weren't there and to keep our heads down. Grunkle Stan was on my left side while Great Uncle Ford was on Mabel's right side; the two of us next to each other.

As we exiled the hospital doors, cameras were in our faces, while news reporters were talking a mile a minute, asking for our reaction. Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford extended their hands out towards the media, telling them to back off. As we made it to the car and the two of us scrambled inside the back; cameras were up against the window on my side. I ignored it as best as I could as I helped Mabel get comfortable in the car. I raised her ankle up and placed it on the seat that way it was elevated. Her crutches were up against the center seat in the back. The elder Pines twins finally made it into the car, telling several of the newscasters to fuck off and bother somebody else. Grunkle Stan started the car as Great Uncle Ford turned around to make sure that Mabel and I were alright. As Grunkle Stan put the car in gear, he began to drive off in pursuit to the Mystery Shack; I honestly believe he would not feel sympathetic if he hit one of the reporters. And frankly, I wouldn't either.

We returned back to the Mystery Shack, only to be bombarded with more newscasters. As our Grunkles helped us out of the car and into the house, the media just wouldn't seem to leave us alone. Great Uncle Ford ended up calling the police and filed a complaint about the media being on our property. Officers did arrive at the scene and told everyone to back off and leave. Many reporters retaliated that they needed an update for the murder story, but the cops refused anyone from entering our home. Eventually, after about a half hour, the media finally went away, back to their rightful place, but only to return later on.

Because of the expenses from the hospital, we did not have much of a Christmas this year. Sure, we were all bummed about it, but I would say the best gift I ever got this holiday, was a true family. There may be no mother or father, but two Grunkles are better than nothing. I am grateful for some the outcomes of everything that has happened. I now permanently live in the town I've grew to love. I have two, protective Great Uncles who are determined to protect and raise Mabel and I. But most importantly, I can continue to go through my life with Mabel by my side. This family, in this town, are all I need. Perhaps this entire situation turned out for the better. I'm not entirely sure, though. But I know I can put more faith and trust in my Grunkles than I ever could with Frank.

2012 was finally over and done with. Mabel and I survived many crazy experiences, both at home, and in this weird town we've adapted to. I was bound and determined to make this year better than before, knowing that the murderer was now deceased. The two of us were really hoping that 2013 would be a good year for us both, and for our Great Uncles.

But not even a week into the New Year, were we already facing difficulties from the incident.

January 5, 2013

Ford's POV:

The tree stems softly tapping against the window of the Mystery Shack turned out to be the cause of my awakening this morning. My REM cycle consisted of small fantasies as I slept the required eight hours. These dreams, thankfully, were not consisted of the one-eyed demon who almost successfully took over the world with his powers of weirdness; rather so of the horrific events that have happened to Mabel and Dipper since their permanent transition to Gravity Falls. I'd often shake the frightful scenarios away, not wanting to fully think about the worse. If anything, how everything situated out that night, at that warehouse, possibly turned out for the better; with Dipper's confidence, he and Mabel no longer have to go through fear anymore. That evil individual, who acted so much like Bill Cipher, will no longer have the power to physically beat or emotionally hurt the kids, or technically anybody, ever again.

Luck sure has its ways on being there for Dipper and Mabel; they've dodged many bullets...literally.

The digital timepiece read 8:00am; a reasonable time to wake up on a Saturday. I decided to get my day started by heading down into the kitchen and put on a fresh pot of coffee; coffee always seems like the perfect medicine and a great advocate to jumpstart my body into full work-mode. As I left my bedroom and made my way towards the two flights of stairs, I couldn't help but peer my head inside my great-niece and nephew's shared bedroom. The two slept peacefully in their own cots; Mabel's leg elevated with pillows to reduce the pressure in her ankle. I smiled to myself, thankful that the kids were still here, still alive and healing at their own pace. It truly is a miracle how them two survived the vicious attack about a month ago. I am truly filled with much gratitude, having these kids in my life. No amount of mysteries, anomalies, or adventures in different dimensions could ever replace the feelings of love and protection I have towards the two of them.

With a soft grin on my face, I quietly leave the kids' bedroom door and head downstairs to make some coffee for the morning. Knowing my brother, Stanley, he likes to sleep in on the weekends. Tours for the Mystery Shack start at 11:00am on Saturdays; he'd be lucky enough to get up by 10:55am. His alarm clock may even be set for that time, now that I think of it.

Oh wait, Soos took over. I forgot.

Entering the kitchen, I grab the coffee grounds from the cabinet and begin making the first pot of morning joe. Ah, I love the smell of fresh coffee in the morning; wakes the sinuses right up.

As I waited for the coffee to brew, I debated whether or not I wanted to make some breakfast; I'm not that keen about eating in the mornings. People say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. If it is, then how come at least ten percent of individuals skip it, with me being a part of that proportion? But if I did decide to eat food this morning, I would most likely make some pancakes. I refuse to eat my brother's version of his flapjacks; their always burned or have strings of his hair in the food. He can handle it and believes it's delicious. Me, on the other hand, will personally barf at the sight of his pancakes.

While pondering to myself about eating, the rickety doorbell that was surely due for an upgrade, rang through the house. I was a bit surprised that a visitor would be here this early in the morning; perhaps it was a delivery being dropped off or a door-to-door salesman. I just wish that the visitor waited until I at least had drank a cup of coffee. Me without coffee in the morning can turn me into a real bastard. I swear to it. Just ask Stanley, he'll agree with me, too.

I vacated the cookery and up to the door of the Mystery Shack, unlocking the hatches from the night before. On the other side of the entrance way appeared to be none other than three government agents; two of which I remember seeing the day I returned to Gravity Falls. The three men were in black suits, with earpieces hooked onto their outer ears. One gentleman with dirty blonde follicles held a brief case in his left hand as all three showed their badges to me. I am unsure as to why the government agents would be here back at my doorstep. Last time I remember, I erased their minds by hooking up the memory eraser to a radio head-set frequency. There's no way they could have regained their memories from five months ago; at least, I hope they did not.

The man with the dark black hair was the first to speak out. "Good morning. My name is agent Powers," He made an eye movement in the right direction as he introduced his partner. "and this is agent Trigger. We are from the Oregon State Government facility. Alongside is agent Tanner from the California State Government facility. We're here to discuss important matters regarding the former criminal, Francis Arnold Pines, father of Mason and Mabel Pines." Man, this shit never ends, does it?

I invited the three agents inside the Mystery Shack, leading them to the kitchen. All three gentlemen took a seat at the rectangle table as I begin to poor a cup of coffee into my mug, which was now fully brewed. "Coffee?" I offered.

"Please." Agent Powers replied, as the other two agents nodded in response. Luckily I had just enough coffee cups left in the cabinet, with an extra one sat aside for my brother. I pored all three cups filled with the black substance, unsure if I should pour any creams or sugars in them. I decided to put the extra components onto the kitchen table, along with three spoons. If the agents wanted to add anything in to their drinks, the creams and sugars would be readily available to them.

"Shall we get down to business?" Agent Powers asks after I placed the last cup onto the table. I was about to agree, until I heard movement within the living room. The footsteps were too heavy to be any of the kids, nor could it be Soos. Hearing the sound of the creaky floorboards awake from their slumber made me realize that my brother had awoken, and was making his way to the kitchen. Wow, he actually beat the alarm clock today. That's surprising.

In his maroon bathrobe, which was completed with his crescent-shaped fez and brunswick green slippers, my brother, Stanley Pines, walks out of his bedroom with his eye glasses in hand. He stretches out his limbs, complaining about his random body pains as he smells the air, detecting the aroma of the coffee grounds from the pot. "Jesus, why is the coffee so strong this morning? I can smell it all the way from my-" When Stan finally puts on his glasses in order to see clearly, his eyes fixate on the three gentlemen who were sitting at the kitchen table, calm and tranquil. He froze in fear, like how Bill's statue in the woods stands stationary, never showing signs of movement.

"Stan Pines, g-" Agent Powers begins, but my brother cuts him off, screaming like a little girl.

"I'M NOT GOING BACK TO THE SLAMMER!" He shouts as the three government agents look at each other with confused facial expressions. Stanley quickly retreats back into his room, slamming the door shut in the process. The puzzled men turn to look at me, completely bewildered as to why my brother acted like that in front of them. My face turns red, utterly embarrassed with Stanley's behavior in front of the men in black. Slightly chuckling as a way to hide my feelings of discomfit, I excuse myself from the kitchen, making my way to my brother's bedroom, to hopefully pry him out from underneath his bed or in his closet...wherever he may have hid himself.

Once I get to his bedroom, I try to turn his door handle, only to find the knob immobilized. I knock on the door, informing Stanley that it was me and to let me inside, but he refused. I then start to pound on it, but not too loud that it would wake up the kids. "Stanley, open this door right now!" I demanded, but I received no verbal response from the other side. The only thing that could be heard from my brother's room was the sound of his grunts. Much movement was heard on the opposite side; he was up to something and I would have to be the one to stop him before he takes things to the extreme. He did not make any attempts to unlock the door, which made me take drastic measures.

I kicked the door down, which probably wasn't the best idea I've had, since I have been having some back problems recently. Since the Shack was built back in the 1980s, the wood had been starting to rot; well at least on his door, that is. The kick I had administered appeared to be just enough of force to open the door to the other side. Upon the doorway, I saw none other than my brother franticly stuffing clothes and personal belongings into a duffle bag; he was trying to escape. Stanley had no idea how wrong he was. I approach him, trying to calm him down. "Stanley, stop it."

"NO! I have to get out of here!" Stan shouted, fear clearly within his raspy voice. He zipped up the duffle bag and swung it across his left shoulder, trying to figure out how he can escape without the government seeing him. "Maybe if I use a smoke bomb, it will blind those idiots long enough for me to make my escape."

"Stanley-" I tried again, but he was completely oblivious; too focus on leaving.

"If I leave now, I can probably make it to the Canada border by sunset."

Fed up, I shout his name to snap him back into reality. "STANLEY!"

"WHAT?!"

I remove the duffle bag from his shoulder and throw it back onto the bed. "You're being ridiculous. First off, you're banned in Canada."

"...Right." He said; his mind was finally starting to clear up. "Maybe Washington state, then; I'm not banned there." Damnit. Spoke too soon. I pinched the bridge of my nose; easily getting frustrated with my brother's endless escape attempts.

"No Stan. You're not fleeing the country because you're not getting arrested." I stated with an exhausted sigh following afterwards.

Stan looks at me, surprised. "Wait, I'm not?" he asks and I nod in response. "Well, then why the hell are they here?"

"They're here because of Dipper and Mabel's-" I try to explain to him, but he cut me off at the sound of the kid's names being mentioned.

"Wait, is Dipper being arrested for trying to kill his father? Or Mabel for actually finishing the job?" He says, worrying that the government came for the kids and that they were being taken away. I actually didn't even think of that one. But I highly doubt the kids were in trouble with the government; their here to discuss about Frank. Man, Stanley needs a chill pill. Stanley then goes over to his nightstand drawer and pulls out a map which stated the states he was banned in. "Maybe we should flee the state. Head to Oklahoma; nothing bad ever happens in Oklahoma."

Fed up with my brother's antics, I go up to him and snatch the map from his hand. "Stan, no one is getting arrested. If somebody were getting arrested by the government, you would see helicopters and police surround the building." He looks out the window and see's no sign of extra constabularies outside, or choppers in the sky. He was in the clear. He breathed a sigh of relief and turns back to face me, yet still confused as to why government agents were sitting at the kitchen table. "The government is here to discuss about Dipper and Mabel's father."

"But he's dead." Stanley states bluntly. "What's there to discuss about?"

"We shall see for ourselves." I reply back. The pit of my stomach was beginning to twist into knots, nervous about this morning's conversation with these gentlemen. Stanley nods back quietly as I turn to leave his bedroom with him close behind. However, before fully walking through the doorway to make it back to the kitchen, I turn around and face my brother with a face of pure annoyance. I sigh aloud once more, placing my one hand on the doorframe woodwork. "Stanley, when we go back in there, I want you to apologize for your behavior."

Flabbergasted as if I just told him to go to his room and think about what he has done, my brother's eyebrows furrowed together, not necessarily liking the idea of apologizing. He always hated apologizing to individuals; even to me. "What? No way! Need I remind you that those goons did try to arrest me a few months back, despite saving your ass in another dimension? Why should I even consider it?"

I always hated talking my brother into things that he never liked doing. He always wanted a reason for it. Although we are in our seventies, I sometimes feel that I am the adult and he is the child; he still acts like one, regardless. I clear my voice before replying back to my stubborn twin brother. "Because, it would be the adult thing to do."

"Since when am I an adult? I still eat ice cream for breakfast, ya know." See? Child at heart.

"Stanley!" I said, getting frustrated once more with him. With an exasperated sigh, Stanley obliges to my request. Leading the way to the kitchen, I continuously hear him say inappropriate words underneath his breath, not looking forward to saying his apology, or even this conversation with the government agents at all. And frankly, I wasn't looking forward to it either.

The two of us made it back to the kitchen, where the men in black were talking amongst themselves, taking sips of their cups of coffee. Upon entering the room, the three look up at the two of us; their stern facial expressions never changing. I felt a lump in my throat as my brother and I just stood there in the middle of the room, looking at these agents. I then decide to break the ice between the five of us. "I apologize for the delay, gentlemen."

Agent Trigger was the first to respond, both bluntly and filled with zero compassion; then again, why should I expect those elements from these individuals?. "It's fine." That just made my stomach twist into a tighter knot. I then decide to elbow my brother, to get him to apologize to the men for acting the way he did in front of them. He rubbed his shoulder, as if I did it too hard on his frail skin. He was always sensitive to the touch growing up; no wonder why he got sunburned easily.

"I uh...am sorry for my uh...my behavior this morning." Apologizing and using manners always gave him a burning sensation...not in a good way. All in unison, the gentlemen nod back towards him as a response. I tried to force the lump down my throat further, but at the same time, I just wanted to get this conversation over with. Together, Stan and I head over to the other side of the kitchen table and take a seat in identical mental chairs. I sat upright and folded my hands together respectfully, while my brother just laid back in his chair, yet stealing my cup of coffee first to wake himself up. Uh, sure; you can have a sip...or the whole cup.

"Alright. Shall we begin, gentlemen?" Agent Powers replies as the two of us nod back in response. The conversation that was starting to upset my stomach, was about to begin. Agent Trigger picks up his briefcase that he had brought in off from the kitchen floor and places it on the table.

"As we are all well aware of, Francis Pines was a very...odd individual." Agent Powers began, but my brother, who likes to speak his mind all the time, decides to cut him off.

"What was your first clue, Sherlock? The fact that he killed his own wife, or that he kidnapped my great niece?!" I elbowed my brother again, as a way for him to stop before the discussion took a wrong turn, but he only grunted in response.

"Francis was your nephew, am I correct Stanley?" Agent Tanner inquired, changing the subject of the question a bit; all eyes were on my brother.

"Yeah. He was my brother's nephew as well." Stanley replied, much more maturely. "Why do you ask?"

"Were you close with him at all throughout your life?" the agent pressed forward.

"Not really." Stanley replied. "I mean, yeah back then, Frank and I would hang out from time to time, but once his kids were born, I was lucky enough to receive a christmas card or a phone call. Communication didn't really pick up until last summer when Frank and Jessica decided to send the twins to Gravity Falls for three months."

"Would you by any chance happen to know any leads or motives that would have caused him to turn against his family?" Agent Tanner asked. What is this, some interrogation? Why was my own brother in the spotlight again? I could tell Stanley was getting fed up getting asked many questions about his nephew, but I couldn't figure out as to why this agent was asking them in the first place.

Before my brother would blow his top once more, I decided to butt in. "Where is this conversation leading up to?"

The three government agents turn and look towards each other before swiveling their heads back to our direction. Agent Tanner continued to speak. "The Federal Bureau of Investigation and paramedics found Francis's body at the bottom of a cliff, where it was concluded that he fell down near the Gleeful warehouse. When forensic scientists recovered his body and performed an autopsy, it was concluded that the cause of death was a bullet in his skull, causing him to plummet down that cliff. Who shot Francis?"

We couldn't lie to the government. But we just hoped that when we told them who officially finished the job, she wouldn't be taken to prison. "It was our niece, Mabel. She shot him in order to save her brother's life." I replied. The government nodded their heads, but I couldn't help but ask this important question. "Mabel isn't charged, is she?"

Agent Tanner responded to my inquiry. "She shot Frank in sole protection for her twin brother's life and to save her own life. No charges are against your niece." A wave of relief flooded through my system as I released a sigh. No one was going anywhere, thank goodness.

The conversation continued. "The FBI looked into his past records and there turned out to be no other misdemeanors he had committed. The only charges found against him were first degree murder of his wife, and child abuse against his children, Mason and Mabel." Agent Tanner explained. "It is unclear as to what has caused Francis to go off the deep end. Was there ever a time where you saw signs of Francis hurting the children, or even threatening their lives in the past, Stanley?"

"Nothing that I am aware of." Stanley replied calmly, trying to think back of any moments if Frank ever threatened Dipper or Mabel's life before the murder incident.

"Did Mason or Mabel ever mention their father abusing them during their visit over the summer to either one of you?" Agent Tanner asked, now pulling me into the conversation. The first half of the summer, I was not here. The last five weeks of their summer vacation is when I physically met them for the first time. With the naked eye, I saw a few scratch marks on their faces, but I assumed it was from the anomaly attack when the two discovered the portal. It never even crossed my mind that some maniac could even think about abusing two sweet, innocent twin siblings; especially when they've done nothing but been themselves. Looking at the gentleman talking, I shook my head in response to his inquiry, while my brother spoke out.

"Never. They almost acted like everything was great with their lives. I only wished the kids would had said something sooner over the summer."

"Upon their arrival, you saw no bruises or scratch marks on their faces?" The same agent asked. My brother shook his head in response, avoiding eye contact. Guilt about not knowing was starting to get to him. And frankly, I don't blame him.

"Arms? Legs? Not even when the two went swimming, you didn't see any marks?" He administered the same response.

"Neither sibling cried out in pain if they fell or got hurt and a cut re-opened?" No changes in my brother's answers. Stanley's head hung down as he continuously denied seeing anything on the kids bodies.

Obviously aware that the agents were going to get nothing but the same answers every time, they decided to finally move forward with the conversation. Agent Trigger opened up the briefcase and began rummaging through the papers. "The states of California and Oregon pay deep, sorrowful respects for the loss of your nephew, Mr. Pines. But have deep condolences for the death of your nephew's wife, and the hardships and trauma your great niece and great nephew had to go through." Agent Tanner pauses as agent Trigger hands him a small envelope, which is then handed to me. "As failure for keeping Francis behind bars and not fulfilling the courts orders by keeping a tight guard on the individual, Piedmont, California would like to offer you this grant, which can help with the expenses you may be facing, or would have to face later on down the road."

With the envelope addressed to the both of us, Stanley and I turned to look at each other, before I flipped the casing over and opened it. Inside contained a check from the government; I was hoping to receive a substantial amount of money, but when the two of us read the quantity offered to us on the check, I was quite disappointed and agitated. Stanley, however, was more fumigated than me.

"$2,500? That's it?" I said, quite confused with such a small amount the government had given us. The three gentlemen in black nod their heads, confirming my inquiry.

"Well, that's a bunch of hogwash!" Stan replied, much louder as he stood up from his seat in anger.

I soon followed suit. "This grant should be bigger than what you are offering!" I demanded, slamming my fist onto the table. The three agents remained stationary at their seats, with stern faces; never showing signs of change.

"This is as much as we can offer." Agent Powers stated bluntly. I shook my head in response.

"No, you can certainly offer more." I replied angrily. "$2,500 is not enough."

"How much were you expecting to receive?" Agent Tanner asked; perhaps he would try to make a little wager with us.

"To be honest, I wasn't expecting anything. But looking at this check, and knowing that it is not going to be enough, I am expecting at least $25,000. That way, it can cover the rest of my niece's medical expenses and can go forth towards the kids future." I replied, thinking long term. I want what's best for Dipper and Mabel; for them to at least have a semi-normal life, and not face too many hardships. The twins definitely deserve better than a measly $2,500.

"We understand-" Agent Trigger began, but Stanley cut him off.

"No, you don't understand. Why don't you make us understand why this amount you have offered us is so low." He said with his arms going across his chest, and my hands are on my hips, tapping my foot onto the ground as I waited for one of them to reply.

Hesitantly, the government agents turn their heads and look at each other, unsure if they should say what they're about to talk about, but after a couple of head nods, it was agent Powers who took control of the conversation. He stood up from his seat with his arms down by his side. "The last update the media has received about this entire situation with Francis was when he kidnapped your niece, and was found dead at the bottom of the cliff. Since that release a month ago, the media has been trying to put the pieces together as to how and why Francis ended up to be."

"What does the media have to do with it?" my brother asks, still very agitated.

"According to several sources, you've all been avoiding the media." He replies bluntly, and that is the truth. Stan and I told Dipper that we would try our best to keep him and his sister away from the cameras. "You've been hibernating in the your niece's hospital room and the Mystery Shack while the media waited outside for hours on end to get inputs and updates from the family."

"The media doesn't know how to stay away from stories like this. If individuals, such as Mason and Mabel, do not wish to share their story, the media should respect that, and go bother somebody else." I stated.

"People, especially kids, should not be pressured into doing something they do not want to do." Stan chimed in afterwards.

"Which I understand. But this news report has been dragging on since the attack back in Piedmont. The media needs an update from the two of them."

"Well, the media ain't getting no fucking update!" Stanley shouted, angrily. An awkward silence arose between the five of us. With my brother clearly upset with this conversation, he tries to calm himself down. He didn't want to leave the room. He wanted the agents to leave the Shack's premises; he was over their visit and this discussion. Stanley then walks away from the kitchen table and goes over to the kitchen counter to grab a cup of coffee. The coffee should stimulate his nerves and help him deal with this better. I still choose coffee over a discussion like this any time.

After some time past, agent Powers decided to speak out once more, but to me instead. "Ford Pines, I know you are requesting $25,000 for your great niece and great nephew. We are prepared to offer you that amount to fulfill the hardship you could and may face down the road with these kids." My brother walks back to the kitchen table and stands next to me with his coffee cup in hand.

"What's the catch?" My twin inquires, a bit calmer than earlier. The government always likes to throw in monkey wrenches when it came down to big offerings such as this one.

"We will offer you the $25,000, if and only if, the twin siblings go up in front of the media at a news conference and share their story." Agent Powers concluded.

"A news conference with the media?" Stanley asked in clarification.

"Not just the media from California or Oregon. We're talking about the national news." Agent Trigger chimed in.

"NATIONAL NEWS?!" Stanley shouted in fear.

"The twins would never go for it." I stated, immediately thinking the worse. Dipper and Mabel never wanted to share this story with anybody, especially with the entire world. I know that the story about Frank had made national news, but now the entire world has to learn about everything. I know the two will definitely refuse to go forward with this. It would take a really good strategy and bargain to convince them to go forward with this.

The other two agents stood up from their seats at the kitchen table, gathering up their belongings. This conversation was over. The offer was leaving the table. Man, it felt like striking a deal with that dream demon. The only difference was that there wouldn't be a blue flame at the hand as a way to seal the agreement. Agent Trigger and agent Tanner started making their way to the exit; the dirty blonde gentlemen in black securing the briefcase and carrying it in his one hand.

With the two agents exiting the Shack, agent Powers remains in the kitchen before following his partners to their vehicle. "Pines, if you go forward with this news conference, the media will never have to step foot back onto your property ever again." He said. "You'd be free to roam around the city once more, and not have the video cameras or reporters up in your face. More importantly, if those kids decide to go through with this, they'll no longer have to hide out in this nicknack house anymore; they can go out with their friends and have fun for a change. You'll receive the grant that you believe those kids deserve."

This was very tempting. The black suited man did make a good bargain. He then hands me his card, which contained his phone number. "I am willing to give you twenty-four hours to think this over. When you have reached your decision, give us a call." With no other words spoken, he turns and heads out the door, leaving Stanley and I alone in the kitchen, once more.

We were in a huge pickle. If we go forward with this, then Dipper and Mabel are going to hate us. If we don't, then the media will never back off and give us privacy. The twins are suppose to be starting school next week at Gravity Falls Middle School; I guarantee the media will track them down and be in their faces when they're walking home from the bus stop. They haven't left this house since the two came home from the hospital; they must be sick being stuck in here for days on end. There really isn't that many options to choose from.

Stanley places a hand on my shoulder, clearly feeling the same waves of worry. I turn to face him, to see if he had any inputs. I didn't have to ask him what we should do, because his face told me what we should do; what the right decision was. We both want what's best for the twins; we're not always going to please them. There are times where there are going to be stuff that the two do not want to do. But it's for the best.

We just knew there would be hell to pay within the next few hours when the two wake up.

-=O=-

Dipper's POV:

It was about 10:00 in the morning when I was awoken to the sounds of struggles coming from the other side of the bedroom. As I stretched out my limbs from their previous position, I turn to glance over to my twin sister's side of the bedroom. She was sitting upright, with her legs hanging off the side of the bed; her one leg still in it's cast. Trying to not put any pressure to her one foot, she attempted to reach over and grab her crutches so she could stand. Seeing this, I sit upright in my bed, flinging the sheets off my body. "Hold up, Mabel. Let me help you." I asked, but she shakes her head, declining any assistance.

"No, no. I'll get them." She replies, trying to grab the crutches, which were leaning up against our nightstand table. I watched from my side of the room, getting ready to stand up and help her. I try again to offer help, but she denies. As I watched this scene unfold, Mabel accidentally puts down her injured foot, applying pressure to it. Doing this causes her to retreat back onto her bed, clutching her knee and biting back an urge to scream out in pain. I then get up from my side of the bed and grab her crutches, bringing them to her. By the time I lean them against her side of the bed, the pain that had shot up her leg had decreased. Mabel still had a week on crutches until she would be switched onto a walking cast. Something told me that she couldn't wait to start fully walking again.

I take a seat next to my sister on her bed, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Mabel, let me help you next time. The last thing you'd want is to remain in this cast longer than expected."

"But, Dipper-" She says but I cut her off.

"Nope. No buts." I reply. "Your injuries were far worse than mine. I know you want to use both of your feet again, but you have to let your ankle heal properly. Until you're able to walk, let me help you. Please?"

I could tell how much she wanted to be independent and show that she could take care of herself, even in the state of her injury. As much as she wanted to do that though, she knew I was right. That ankle needs to heal correctly; I don't want her to push herself too much. Looking back at me, she sighs out loud, nodding her head. "Okay, bro. You can help."

"Thanks." I reply. I then stand up from the bed and grab her two crutches, preparing to hand them to Mabel. However, as I look at her, I could tell that she was really bummed about something. Guessing it was about the whole independence thing, I take action to try and get that smile back on my twin's face. I looked at the crutches, and put them underneath my arms, lifting up a leg so it looks like I had a fractured limb too.

"Look Mabel, I grew an extra set of feet." I say as I walk around our bedroom with her crutches. Mabel's head shoots up as she sees me walking around the room like an idiot. She begins to laugh at me, as I continue to try and walk with these uncomfortable things.

"You know, these would be great to use at a concert. When the singer tells you to raise your hands up in the air and jump, you'd be the only one standing out. Just watch!" I say, as I put my own theory to the test. I'm not the best hopper, even on both of my feet; hence why growing up, I never played hopscotch or leap frog. As I hopped around the room, Mabel continues to laugh at me, but it was worth it. In fact, I got a bit too carried away that I ended up falling on my behind, with each crutch falling beside me.

"Man down! Man down!" I say as she and I burst out in a brief laughing fit. Once I calmed down enough to stand up on both my legs, I grab Mabel's crutches again and bring them to her, as she finally catches her breath and a big smile spreads across her face. The smile that I have always loved seeing. She takes the crutches out of my hands as I help her stand up from the bed and secure her with the extra assistance. "Feel better?" I ask as we get ready to leave the bedroom together.

"Yeah." She replies with her brace-filled smile on her face. "Thanks, Dipper. I needed that." I send her a smile in return as we make our way to the bedroom door, where I would help her down the steps and into the kitchen for breakfast.

-=O=-

"Alright, we'll be there at 9:00am tomorrow. Uh-huh. Yeah. You as well." The voice of my Great Uncle Stan could be heard from the other room, appearing to be wrapping up a phone call on the landline. From the bottom of the staircase, I watched as my sister tries to descend down the steps; she sits down on them with her leg elevated in the air and scoots her way down the steps. As I waited for my sister to come to me so I can help her, I spot Great Uncle Ford pacing back and forth in the living room, appearing to be deep in his thoughts. Something was wrong; Great Uncle Ford rarely paces unless he's nervous or anxious about something.

"Great Uncle Ford?" I say aloud, which causes him to flinch; almost as if I popped out of nowhere and gave him a good scare. And yeah, I guess I did since he didn't even notice me come down the steps.

"Oh. Dipper. I didn't see you there." My uncle replies with a nervous laugh. Uh-oh, something must have happened either earlier this morning or late last night. "Good morning." He says as he leaves the living room and approaches me by the stairway. He places a hand on my shoulder as he peaks his head up the stairway, spotting my sister carefully coming down the staircase. I say good morning to him in return, yet a bit apprehensively. It's possible Ford may want to talk to either myself or Mabel, or the two of us together about something important; a gut feeling is telling me that something is wrong. "Morning Mabel." Great Uncle Ford says at the bottom of the staircase with me.

"Morning." Mabel replies, cautiously making her way down the steps.

"How's that ankle, trooper?" Great Uncle Ford asks enthusiastically. Okay weird; did my great uncles pull a switch-a-roo on us this morning? Talking with enthusiasm is something Grunkle Stan does. I don't like this new Ford. Where's Bill Cipher so I can strike a deal and get the real Ford back?

...Oh my God, pretend I never said that. That's the last thing I need right now.

"Um...okay, I guess." Mabel replies, clearly showing signs of struggle to make it to the bottom. Her leg was getting tired from staying up in the air; she was going to need help again. However, before I even opened my mouth to utter that simple question to her, Great Uncle Ford beats me to it.

"Sweetie, do you need help making it the rest of the way?" He asks with empathy.

"No, no. I'm alright." She replies, but Ford shakes his head in denial.

"Nonsense, Mabel. Let me help you get down here." Great Uncle Ford replies as he starts making his way up the steps to grab my sister and bring her down here with me. I attempted to tell my uncle that I could do it, but he shakes his head and tells me not to worry about it. It's not the first time I had to carry my sister down the steps. Heck, the first night we all returned from the hospital and were sleeping in our own beds, Mabel had a nightmare and wanted a midnight snack. Instead of me just going down and grabbing it for her, she insisted on being carried to the kitchen so she could pick out what she wanted. She claims I pick out the wrong snacks on purpose, even though I get her exactly what she requested. The important thing was I didn't drop her coming up or down the steps. I got to get some credit.

I watch as Great Uncle Ford scoops up my twin sister in his arms as he carries her down the staircase and onto the main floor. He places my sister down gingerly onto the floor where I am there standing with her crutches in hand, ready to assist her. Ford holds her steady as she refuses to put any weight on her foot as I hand her the crutches one-by-one. Once fully secured, Great Uncle Ford asks us if we were hungry for any breakfast; the grumbling sound of my stomach answered that question for me as my sister nodded in response. Ford lead the way to the kitchen with Mabel moving along and me trailing behind her.

My brotherly instincts continue to kick in whenever I am near my twin. I know that she's safe and secure at the shack but I'm constantly cautious and a tad overprotective whenever I'm with her. I just don't want her to get hurt again; especially since her injuries were worse than mine. I just can't wait for that cast to come off of her ankle and she can transition into her walking cast. The family, including my sister, cannot wait until she can start walking again, like she use to.

Upon entering the kitchen, I was greeted with the wonderful smell of greasy bacon and my Grunkle's Stan's version of flapjacks. With Mabel and I at the doorway, I saw my great uncle setting up the table, placing two big plates of pancakes and bacon in the center of the table. Knowing Mabel, and how much she loves her pet pig, Waddles, she would refuse to eat bacon, regardless of how much she loves the taste and the crunch it makes. She claims that not eating bacon is a way to spare the pig's feelings. That sounds like something she would do.

"Morning kids! Sit down and eat! I made a lot of food this morning and I refuse for it to go to waste." Grunkle Stan says just as he finished setting up the table. This was all a bit weird; Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford seemed to be acting really strange. It seemed almost as if they were spoiling us for some reason. It more so appeared to me like they were trying to hide something from us. It's all so strange and odd. I don't know what's happening, and I don't seem to like it.

Mabel and I sat down at the table simultaneously; me being a bit uneasy. Immediately afterwards, Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford sat down, opposite from us, smiling so much that their faces would freeze that way. I grabbed some bacon and pancakes from the two plates while my sister just grabbed a single flapjack. Before either of us dived into our breakfast, the look that my uncles had on for us was just a bit...weird.

Slightly fed up and a bit nervous, I decided to address the matter. "Uhh...what's going on?"

"Whatever do you mean, Dipper?" Great Uncle Ford asks me; I can hear the sarcasm clearly in his voice.

"Well for starters, since when does Grunkle Stan hate to see food go to waste? In fact, when does he ever decide to make mountains of bacon and towers of Stancakes?" I pointed out. There fake smiles began to disintegrate. I was hot on their trail; not long from finding out the truth.

Mabel soon chimed in herself. "Yeah. I mean, I'll take as much food as the next guy, but something doesn't seem like its adding up."

"Why are you doing this?" I ask.

"Because...we, uh,...wanted to give you an early birthday surprise?" Grunkle Stan inquired as he tried to find a good excuse. He should have thought a bit harder with a better excuse than that. They were definitely hiding something.

"Our birthday isn't until August. That's seven months away." Mabel replied, now noticing herself that something was going on.

"Dang it." Stan replied.

"Oh, Stanley." Great Uncle Ford said, defeatedly. "What's the point? Perhaps we should just come clean." I KNEW THEY WERE HIDING SOMETHING! HA! Curiosity killed the cat, I suppose. I wonder what Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford were trying to hide from us in the first place. My feelings of curiosity were now mixing in with waves of nervousness. Possible reasons were developing within my head, but the frightening ones seemed to be playing in my mind on a constant repeat. I tried to shake them away, but they continued to come back.

"NO!" Stan said as he stood up angrily from the kitchen table. He points his finger towards us as we sit there in complete silence. "They just woke up! The last thing I want is for them to be-" He shouted, but before Stan could even finish his sentence, Great Uncle Ford also shot up from his own chair and covered his brother's mouth before he gave too much away. Ford told him to be quiet and ushered him out of the room for a brief period of time. Yep, something was really wrong.

From the kitchen, I was able to hear soft, agitated whispers coming from both my great uncles, as they argued with what they were going to talk about with us this morning. I felt the knots in my stomach continue to tighten, as I tried to decipher what my great uncles were saying. A hand latched onto my own; it was Mabel's. She was scared. With the sun peaking through the window in the kitchen, she seemed like she was going to break down into tears any minute. We would soon learn the truth, but I didn't want Mabel to get upset when and if our Great Uncles would come back into the room and delivered the news.

"What's going on, Dipper?" She asked as she sniffled. I take my free hand and wipe away her tears, which were now falling like waterfalls down her face.

"Shh, Mabel...I'm sure everything is going to be fine." I say, trying to calm her down. "You know how overdramatic Grunkle Stan gets. It's most likely nothing." And yeah, Grunkle Stan does get like that a lot; especially since we permanently moved up here. Mabel nods her head as she tries to relax herself. I gave her hand a comforting squeeze, assuring her that things would work out.

By the time my sister calmed herself down, Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford returned to the kitchen. The two sat back down in their chairs and released sighs of defeat and apprehensiveness. There were no false smiles, nor were their attitude changes. It appeared as if they returned back to their normal selves. I could tell from the looks on their faces that they did not want to deliver this news to us. To me, it looked like it was something they had to get off their chest. But I could be wrong, though. I've been wrong before.

"Kids..." Grunkle Stan spoke out. "before we tell you, we just hope that...that you don't hate us." Oh man, it might be worse than I thought. Now more frightful what-if's were hatching in my mind. Mabel's hand clutched tighter into my own grasp; I squeezed back just as tight.

"Yes." Great Uncle Ford said afterwards. "We just want you to know...we're only doing what's best for you and for this family, because we love you both." The two of us remained silent, not sure what to say. But to assure our uncles that we were indeed listening, we nodded our heads back to them; Mabel and I never loosened our grip on each other's hands.

"...This morning, around 8AM, we received a visitor from both the California and the Oregon state government." Great Uncle Ford began. The government guys came back? I thought their minds were erased.

Mabel spoke out, worriedly. "Grunkle Stan didn't break another law again, did he?" Wow, I didn't even think of that one.

"Why does everyone assume I broke another law when the cops show up at the door?" Grunkle Stan asked rhetorically. His brother elbowed him as a way for him to knock off his catty attitude. "Erm...I mean, no I didn't break a law. I ain't going anywhere." Mabel seemed to calm down a bit after hearing that.

"Anyway...the government arrived this morning to discuss about your father." Great Uncle Ford said. Mabel and I both gasped in fear, which was a cue for Ford to continue forward "Relax, kids. He's dead for sure." My sister and I released a sigh of relief. Man this conversation is making my stomach spin too many times; I felt like I was going to throw up.

"So, what did they want to talk about, regarding him?" I asked, curiously.

"In regards to their failure for keeping him in prison for the allotted time, and the sympathy they felt with the hardships you two continually went through with him," The government has feelings? I thought they were more so like those guards in England who never break character or never show any emotions. "they were going to offer us a small amount of money as a token of their condolences." Great Uncle Ford replied.

"Did you take it?" Mabel asked.

Our uncles look towards each other, a bit nervously before answering my twin's inquiry. "Well, we declined it because...well, to us, it didn't seem like it wouldn't be enough for you two." Grunkle Stan said. Wow, that's the first time he talked about money and wasn't at all once stingy about it. Kind of creepy, if you ask me.

"That's right." Great Uncle Ford added on. "I actually was the one who demanded a larger claim." Am I sure that them two did not switch personalities overnight or something? That's weird to hear that the educated uncle asked for more money than my former con-man uncle.

"And they were going to offer it to us...but in order to receive it, we had to do something." Stan finished. Oh, man; this can't be good.

"Now this is the part where you two might get mad at us...and we're prepared for all of your emotions to let loose." Great Uncle Ford stated. Mabel and I nodded back to the two of them once more.

Here it comes.

"In order to receive the larger amount of money, you two have to go in front of the national news...and share your story." Stan said slowly, as if he were bracing for impact. The media? We have to go in front of the media?! Well...that was surely unexpected. Hearing that news come out of my uncle's mouth was shattering. I told them two several times that I did not want the media involved. Now, the national news is coming into play and I have to share the whole story about my nutcase "father", and all of the shit that he has caused my sister and I for months. I stood up from my seat, letting go of my sister's hand.

"WHAT?! WHY?!" I shouted, letting anger control the wheel.

"Because, Dipper, think about it; if you and Mabel officially share your story around the world, the media will finally leave us alone." Great Uncle Ford explained. "You won't have to be cooped up in the shack anymore. You can finally go out in public with your friends and not have to worry about the news reporters wanting to interview you every five minutes."

I was barely listening to their reason. I yelled out again, still angry. "The media has no fucking right to hear my story, nor do they have the right to here Mabel's side of the story! Especially the national news! There's no reason for the national news to be involved!"

"Dipper, this story has already spread across the entire world. The world knows what has happened. But since we've been hibernating in the shack and shielding our faces from the media, they haven't had an update in weeks." Great Uncle Ford tried again to make me see the other side of this situation, but I still refused to actually listen to their reasoning.

"So?! I don't give a shit about the media receiving a goddamn update about this!" Feelings of betrayal and brutal sadness continued to build up in my system. I lost total control of my emotions. "You deliberately disobeyed my wish! You went behind my back and now the fucking news is expecting the whole fucking story!"

Grunkle Stan now stepped in. "Dipper, we listened to your wish several times. But there comes times where the promise cannot be kept any longer. The national news will be at the Town Hall in Gravity Falls by tomorrow morning at 9:00am. We have to be there by that time. We're only doing what's best for you."

"Sure. What's best for me is that the entire world is going to learn about what happened and that I'm going to make a legit fool of myself because I had no choice in this decision?! I cannot believe you two!" I replied; I felt the tears begin to run down my face. I cannot believe I had no say in this. I literally have no choice! They didn't even think about how I would feel. Nor how Mabel would feel about this.

"Dipper, please-" I didn't want to hear their voices any more. I didn't even want to look at them right now. I'm so angry, sad, and hurt with these two; I can't even talk to them right now. I stepped away from the kitchen table, placing my hand up as a key for them to stop talking to me. I walked out of the room completely, making my way towards the front door. I turn the knob and head out the of the Mystery Shack, leaving behind the two traitors, and my twin sister.

I needed some time to myself.

WHOO! Part I of Tallest Pines in the Woods is officially complete. I wanted to make the introduction to be so packed, and continue where I Promise left off. This is, by far, the longest chapter I have ever written on FanFiction. I cannot guarantee that these next installments are going to be as long as the first section, but I'm hoping that I got you guys hooked up for more.

Updates are most likely going to be sporadic, so I cannot promise a speedy delivery with Part II so soon. But I can promise you that you will see a great conclusion, along with a great story. This is only the beginning. Let's get hyped.

See you in Part II!

-Williebadger618