HAT: Yes, yes, I know! Another fanfiction, but this one was just nagging at me for the longest (aka for about a day or two) and inspiration hit me hard on this one. Also, I've made some minor changes to this story... though major ones in the fourth chapter so... yeah! So, I hope that you enjoy it and review it!

(EDITS: 6/20)

Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls or the characters... juuuuust the plot... and OCs I guess (not James, I just gave the butler a name, Margaret I do own).


Pacifica Northwest lies on the ground in her room with tears silently streaming down her face and bruises and welts covering her body and a cut on her forehead that is still bleeding and staining her blond hair and covering her face. She feels that she deserves this punishment.

The first rule that her parents had taught her was to obey and honor her parents' at all times so that's what she'd strove to do since she was young. When she was doing something wrong the bell was her signal to correct her behavior and she adjusted herself accordingly. When her parents had told her to not associate herself with the poor people or servants in the house she did just that and hung out with rich girls that were just as shallow as she was trying to be for them. It didn't work, but she learned to act like it- maybe a little too well because no one saw her as a girl in need or a girl that was just putting up a front- though one person saw a bit of that broken girl.

She pushes herself up despite the pain in her body when she hears the bell beckoning her. She has no time to clean herself up save for wiping away the tears and smudging the blood on her face. She walks with her hands clasped behind her back and head bowed so that she won't have to look at the servants- workers- as she passes them. She would prefer to skip seeing her parents completely, but she can't do that now. There is no one here to defend anymore, no crisis that she can justify her actions- though obviously that hadn't worked out very well.

The door to her father's office is already open and so she enters without looking at them.

"Do you know why we punished you?" Her father demands.

"B-because I disobeyed and shamed you," she answers, something she had used to say a lot when she was younger.

Her mother stays silent while her father narrows his eyes and speaks forcefully. "And?"

Pacifica grits her teeth and manages to say, "You only want what's best for me," without letting too much of her self-loathing and discomfort show.

"Good. Are you going to interact with those townsfolk ever again?"

"No."

"Are you going to disobey us?"

"No."

"Now get out of my sight and do something with yourself. You look terrible."

She quickly turns and flees form her father's office and is so distracted that she runs into someone and ends up on her rear. "I-I'm sorry!"

It's their butler- James, she thinks- and he seems to be looking at her with pity filled dark eyes.

"Ms. Pacifica you are not the one at fault," he assures with his prim and proper British accent, observing her state of being for a moment before crouching down and holding out his hand to help her up. "Come with me. I'll have Margaret clean you up."

"Thank you," she murmurs as she takes his hand.

He leads her to where the maid named Margaret- a dark skinned woman with slicked back black hair in a puffy bun and light brown eyes- is cleaning the dining room and when she looks up at the state the young mistress is in she covers her mouth and tears start to make her eyes shine and gasp "you poor thing" or something along those lines. Pacifica wonders what she's ever done to gain these people's sympathy when all she'd ever done was mistreat them and act as if they were objects that can be easily replaced. Maybe they did see her for what she was.

"Will you please clean Ms. Pacifica and tend to her injuries?" James asks.

"Of course," Margaret assures, moving forward and gently taking Pacifica's hand. "Come on, sweetie."

Over the next several minutes she's taken care of by Margaret. Soon enough Pacifica is in her pajamas and sitting on her bed while her head is bandaged- they had run out of bandaids. Margaret briefly mutters darkly about how her parents should be put in jail, but before Pacifica could question it there is a knock on the door.

"It's James."

"Come in," Pacifica calls.

James opens the door and enters with a tray and places it in front of her. "Eat."

"I thought I wasn't supposed to eat while on punishment," she murmurs.

He frowns and kneels in front of her so that he's eye level with her. "You did a brave thing in allowing the townspeople into the mansion and you deserve to be happy. You shouldn't have to live with this anymore."

She lowers her gaze to her lap. "I don't know what to do..."

James lifts her head gently and smiles. "Do what you feel is right... Be brave once again."

"How?"

"You'll find a way. Eat and think," he orders gently before standing and walking out of the room.

Margaret stays with her until she's done eating and then takes the tray away to go wash the dishes.

Pacifica is now alone with her thoughts and she now wonders what she can do to be brave like James had said. She doesn't want to be in this home- no- mansion anymore. It holds no warmth save for the rare moments when she interacts with the workers in a nice way and even then the impending doom of her parents finding out was something that caused her to be jittery and unable to feel truly at him. She actually never felt at home anywhere, now that she thinks about it.

But how do I get out of here?


HAT: Yep, this is the start of it. I have a couple of more chapters written, but those will come at intervals.

Pacifica: Just know that none of this would ever happen.

HAT: Suuuure.

Pacifica: *looks at a paper and then raises an eyebrow* Why is Old Man McGucket on this list of primary people I interact with? I kinda get Mabel and her family, but not him.

HAT: Oh... you'll find out later.

Pacifica: *shivers* Ew. That gross old man who lives in the junkyard? Puh-lease. I would never interact with him.

HAT: Well this is my story and you do what I say- er... write. Now, please say it?

Pacifica: *rolls eyes and scoffs* Whatever... review.