Chapter Text
Dipper’s curiosity has always been difficult to manage, as a child his parents frequently had to make him keep secrets from his sister, though difficult as he is nothing but brutally honest, he managed.
His insatiable need for knowledge was first discovered by his parents when Dipper was 5, he and Mabel had spent almost every Christmas eve meticulously setting up elaborate mouse-trap-esque situations to be the first kids to meet Santa, each year getting more complex as Dipper gained more interest in the theory of their plans.
Mabel's glittery and fairytale lead ideas literally outshone Dipper's hours of research, planning and effort for the chance to make his twin sister feel like she has the best shot.
The boy himself did not have any interest in the outcome of their plans, especially when he knew his parents kept up the fantasy for only her joy.
The day his parents noticed was unsettling to say the least, Mabel had grown tired of the dream of meeting Santa.
Instead of spending her Christmas eve as she previously did, she found herself knee-deep in making her barbies custom clothing, her parents letting her embrace her new phase of customising.
(Phase?)
But anything that kept their children from pestering was okay with them.
It wasn’t until they passed Dipper’s bedroom on christmas eve that an issue arrived.
Repetitive banging, almost a hammering sound.
Normally, Mrs. Pines wouldn't concern herself with their children (surprising I know) but this case was different.
Walking into the room Mrs Pines was greeted by it, littered with pages of blueprints, notes and piles of crumpled pieces of paper, alongside her 5 year old son, repeatedly banging his head onto his wooden desk.
And after noticing his mother's intrusion he immediately runs up to her, breaking into a hysterical rant, breathlessly explaining about how he is unable to figure "it" out.
This obviously confused his mother who told him to calm down and explain exactly what's wrong.
The then 5 year old Dipper proceeded to take a large breath before saying in a whisper.
“How do I make this year's trap convincing enough, yet have a flaw that means Mabel and I once again have failed to catch Santa?”
His mother could almost see the steam seeping from in his small head due to his efforts.
Mrs. Pines knew that he wasn't like other kids, especially with Mabel as his comparison, but she thought his issue was something to be explained by a child psychologist, not for her to deal with.
"Dipper... just-" in all honesty she didn't know what to say.
She could never have understood why he had put so much effort into such a childish thing, let alone how the situation caused enough stress to leave tears in her young son's eyes.
She knew that he was smart enough to know that St Nick was definitely not shimmying down their chimney tonight, the constant praise of his maturity and emotional intelligence ran through her mind.
"Dipper.. just find another thing to do okay? Your sister's progressed from your little bear hunt.. why can't you?"
Dipper doesn't reply, he doesn't even seem to breathe.
His mother lets out a worried sigh,
"Listen.. you should follow in her footsteps and distract yourself... not everything lasts forever and you're smart enough to know that..."
the air seems still,
"Try not to stop her fun though, she still thinks Santa is coming to grant her presents for her good behaviour... don't ruin her sparkle with the truth and please.. move on."
Mrs. Pines also knew the second after the words left her mouth that she shouldn't have said what she did, she didn't regret it though, her son had a tendency to deep dive into every single thing he did, it wasn't going to end well at some point down the line, especially if this outburst was anything to go off of.
He couldn't always expect simple outcomes and easy answers, he wouldn't always be satisfied with the endings of his little projects and shouldn't be sheltered from the harsh reality.
She was protecting him like a mother should, teaching him to move on before he destroyed himself in the process.
It’d be 12 years before another adult in his life once again told him to "move on.”