Gravity Rises (S1)

FE: Part Two

Mabel plodded down the stairs, still half asleep, looking at the world through bleary eyes. How late had she been up last night? She'd been studying and taking notes on the Journal, she remembered that. She ran her tongue around her lips and winced when she tasted something nasty lingering there. Pen ink. She'd forgotten that she burst another pen last night.

"Mabel, you're taking forever! Just walk down the stairs!" Dipper leaned impatiently against the banister. He was all ready for the day, wearing his favorite t-shirt with the star on it over a yellow sweatshirt and his neon-blue converse with the dark green stripes (one of the many pairs of shoes in his collection).

Mabel, on the other hand, had bothered to pull on her pine tree shirt and some jeans; but her hair was a mess, and, as the ink taste in her mouth indicated, she hadn't brushed her teeth. "Does Ford have breakfast?" she asked around a yawn.

"Yeah — but if you move any slower, I bet it'll be cold by the time we get there! C'mon!"

"You don't have to wait for me, Dipper."

"I'm being nice."

"No, you're being annoying. Go on ahead, for goodness' sake."

As soon as Mabel gave the word, Dipper was gone, running for the kitchen and the smell of hot pancakes.

It took Mabel a little longer to catch up, as she ambled down the stairs and through the entry way. She entered the kitchen with a loud, unceremonious yawn. Melody looked up from the stove and smiled. "Well, look who's up."

"She took forever to get down here," Dipper said, holding a loaded fork halfway to his mouth.

Ford sipped from a mug and adjusted his newspaper.

"That's okay, Dipper, your sister is just a sleepyhead this morning," Melody said cheerfully. "Want a pancake, Mabel?"

"Sure," Mabel said, stifling another yawn. She grabbed a plate off the table and glanced at Ford as she passed him. He didn't seem to notice her.

"How come you're so tired, do you think?" Melody asked as she slid a pancake onto Mabel's plate. Her cheerful voice sounded good compared to Dipper's more whiny one.

"Um, I was up reading," Mabel replied with another glance at Ford. Well, it wasn't a lie. Ford probably wasn't paying attention, anyway.

Mabel sat down between Ford and Dipper, although she'd moved her seat closer to Dipper without thinking about it. Melody flipped another pancake and used the motion to jab her elbow into Ford's arm. "Say good morning to the kids, Stanford."

Ford grunted and turned a page in his newspaper. "Good morning."

"Morning, Ford!" said Dipper, his mouth full of pancake. Mabel could bet he had already said that at least once already. She muttered back her own greeting while drowning her pancake in syrup.

"Well, half of us are happy this morning, right Dip?"

"Right!" Dipper spewed chewed-up pancake as he spoke. A piece landed in Mabel's syrup puddle and joined its kin in their misery. Mabel wrinkled her nose and fished it out and flicked it onto the tablecloth, where it bounced once like a wet fish and lay still.

"You know, Mabel, I was going to suggest that we have a syrup war; but after smothering your poor food in it, I don't think you could take any more of the stuff," Dipper commented.

Mabel glanced at his mountain of whipped cream, swirled and perfect on top of his plate. Just because Dipper took time to make art out of his food didn't mean it was healthier than hers. She decided a grunt worked in lieu of a response.