—–
Dipper was watching Henry work on the truck, his legs sticking stork like out from under the vehicle, when he felt himself being watched in turn.
He turned his head around (mainly because nothing said a fun Saturday like casual body horror) and saw-
“Hey Willow-bean.”
His youngest nibling stood and stared at him, her gaze far too deep and penetrating for a seven year old. Especially a seven year old wearing a nightgown with a rainbow barfing dolphin on it and a Raggedy Ann doll in her hand.
Dipper checked his shields, making sure everything he was, everything he would be was locked down and away from sight and Sight. He still wasn’t entirely sure all of what Willow saw, which worried him. Most days he rested easy knowing that she only (only. sheesh) had the Sight and her empathy. But then she would open her mouth and make an observation or ask about the eyes and-
“I think your name is Harvey.”
Jolted out of his reverie, Dipper turned the rest of his body to join his head and knelt down in front of his niece.
“Wrong answer but good guess.” Dipper paused.
“Uh, why Harvey?”
Another one of those penetrating gazes, the one that made Dipper feel like his little fighter could see him inside and out and wasn’t that fucking terrifying and-
“You look like a Harvey to me.” Then a grin, a shit eating grin just like the one Mabel had, the one Stan had, bloomed on her face. “Also, Harvey’s a dorky name and you’re my dorky uncle.”
Dipper drew back, feigning offense.
“Dorky? I’ll show you dorky!”
Henry pulled himself out from under his truck, covered in oil and grease, to see Dipper flying around chasing Willow, tickle fingers extended.
He smiled and made a note to call Dipper ‘Harvey’ in a few weeks, to see what would happen.
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