Chapter Text
True to his word, Dipper washed the jacket the next morning, and much to his embarrassment Mabel walked him through how to use the washing machine. A few wash cycles later the smell of sea salt had finally been replaced by the smell of flowers and Autumn mist. Dipper did have concerns of how the old fabric could handle a thorough wash, but the sight of it still in one piece put his heart at ease.
Every day following had Dipper donning the jacket whenever he went. The library to check out the newest Sibling brother’s book, the park to play with Mabel, under his blankets to read the journal he had found. Much like his lucky hat, Dipper was rarely seen without it. Going along with the new fashion statement was a new attitude that slowly overtook the young boy.
His usual quiet demeanour would be interrupted with a brash or rude comment. When once his bullies would shout at him while he quietly walked away, Dipper now shouts back twice as loud. The other boys would try to push him in the hallway between classes and the young boy shoved back. But the worst was when Mabel was caught in the crossfire.
One day Carl Spenserson decided that if Dipper was giving him too much grief, there was always the other Pines twin. Walking through the playground he searched for his target, not that it would be hard. Mabel always left a trail of glitter wherever she went. With a few minutes of traipsing back and forth, he found the arty-crafty twin making some kind of daisy chain under a tree. With every step he felt himself grow giddy. Carl’s mind ran a mile a minute thinking of all the ways he could make this Pines girl cry. He threw a stick of gum into his mouth as he neared.
“What’s up freak.” He said, looming over Mabel.
“Oh my Gosh! Carl. you’re just the person I was looking for.” Mabel jumped to her feet.
“What?” Carl asked.
“I was practising my knitting, but my dad says that yarn can get expensive so I was using some flowers from the grass and I think I’ve perfected this pattern but I need someone to model it. Plus, I'm pretty sure I used too many flowers for it to fit on dipper or me properly.” Mabel said. She held up a sweater woven together from green stems. Among the green threads was the occasional dandylion, adding a pop of yellow to break up the many shades of green.
“Pheh! Why would I wanna wear some hippy sweater?” Carl said. He raised his hands, ready to tear the garment to pieces.
“Oh C’mon Carl, don’t knock it till you try it!” Mabel cheered. She jumped and pulled the sweater over Carl's head. Instantly wrapping him in it. “Wow. Am I going cray-cray or is that a perfect fit? I wasn’t even trying to fit you. I just picked too many flowers and didn’t want them to go to waste.”
There were several moments of silence as Carl stared at Mabel, his fists still raised but no sweater in front of him to tear. Instead he had been swaddled by a sweater that wrapped his arms and chest the perfect amount. Not suffocating or restrictive the way his older brother’s old shoes were on his feet, and neither it did not hang over his body the way the clothes his father passed down to him would.
Carl’s mind flashed back to a cold winter night spent at his grandmother’s house. Pushed into the living room as his older brothers took all the spare beds. His parents weren’t feeling too charitable that night, telling him he was too old to share a bed with them. So he sat shivering on the floor of the living room, fallen off the couch and not caring enough to pick himself up. A strong chill had grown in his chest as he remained on the cold wooden floor. The window lacked any curtains, beaming the white light of the moon right into his eyes.
He didn’t know how long he spent staring up at the rafters, but at some point someone had woken up and visited the restroom just outside the living room. He didn’t bother getting up. Instead he squeezed his eyes shut and pretended he was asleep. Best case he actually fell asleep, worst case he could tell whoever to shove off. He tensed as he heard shuffling footsteps make their way towards him. He rolled his still shut eyes waiting for them to speak.
“Carl dearie, what are you doing on the floor?” His grandma asked. Her voice was gentle, like the snowflakes falling against the window outside.
“Nowhere t’ sleep.” Carl muttered.
“You are a big boy.” His grandmother giggled. “When my couch was made I don't think anyone thought we’d have someone your size sleeping on it. But we can’t have you staying on the floor. Like that, you’ll catch a cold. Sit up, I’ll be right back.” Before he could reply she had shuffled out of the room.
Carl sighed and sat up. He leaned against the couch, staring outside the white window, accepting his lost night of sleep. He was about to reach between the couch cushions for the TV remote when his grandmother shuffled back into the room.
“Now I was saving this as a gift for the morning, so keep this between us, but cold nights are the exact reason I made this for you.” His grandmother winked at the young boy before pushing a bundle of wool into Carl’s arms.
He held the gift up to the light from the snowy window. A green sweater. Carl looked past the knitted gift to see his grandmother smiling at him expectantly. With a sigh he slipped it on over his head. At once the chill in his chest melted away like the winter frost on the first day of spring. He looked up at his Grandmother, who wore a smile that was just as warm as his now melted heart.
Carl reached out for her with outstretched arms.
“You stay away from her!” Dipper cried from across the playground.
Before Mabel could quell her brother, she watched as he jumped towards Carl with his left fist raised.