Chapter Text
It had happened.
It had finally happened.
To be completely honest, Mabel was somewhat disappointed about leaving Gravity Falls. Okay, no, totally scratch that like a D.J., son, she was totally devastated! Even through her Gruncle Stan’s and her parent’s promises that they could visit next summer, Mabel had trouble slowing the streams of tears down her cheeks. Some even argued that she’d fallen more in love with Gravity Falls than her twin, Dipper, but most would agree that the siblings were equally enamored with the tiny, strange, mystic little town.
Mabel felt a sigh leave her lips, and sadly pressed another ‘U Can Do It’ sticker to her cheek. The total sticker count of Mabel’s facial area was, at the moment, 28. If you counted the ones on her tongue. Funny, no matter how many times she ended up eating it, glue didn’t ever seem to taste any better. It tasted even worse through the filter of her depression. Her arms folded across themselves, pressing into the plush, soft fabric of the sweater that Wendy had knitted as a going-away present. The stitching and string work was absolutely terrible in Mabel’s professional opinion, but she couldn’t keep herself from snuggling into the soft, pine-scented freshness. It still smelled like the place, too.
“Uh . . .” Came the uncertain mumble from her twin, who was staring at her with a mixture of pity and frustration from the other side of the bus seat. His expression briefly reminded Mabel that he was doing his best to contain his sadness, too—it wasn’t just her. Oh, geez, now she felt /selfish/. That’s not cool. On instinct, her hand grabbed another sticker, fiercely plastering it to her nose, smothering it in the glittery message of ‘Go-pher it!’, followed by the cartoonish picture of a smiling, cheery gopher.
“I’m cool, bro-bro!” She loudly announced, ignoring the attention of the suit-clad CEO and split-ended librarian looking lady. “I’m totally cool! Heh, like, the /coolest/. Who’s cooler than me? Ice cold- Wait, no, that’s not a person.” Pursing her lips in feigned concentration, Mabel sat back in her seat, purposefully avoiding her brother’s eyes. Dipper sighed, and through the corner of her eyes, Mabel could see his frown deepen.
Dipper had been taking it harder than even she had, or at least, it seemed like it. He hadn’t even gotten a third of the way through that journal, and though he’d taken it with him, stashed inside the bulkiness of his bags, Mabel knew that it wouldn’t be half as thrilling if he wasn’t trekking those woods, if /they/ weren’t trekking those woods /together/, the Mystery Twins back in action again. Mabel tightened her lips, and turned, placing a hand on his arm, something that caught his attention.
“Dipper, really. It’s going to be great! In fact, it’ll be magnificentious!” She pulled the final sticker from her bag, and slapped it onto the surprised boy’s face, her braces glinting as she grinned as bright as she could. “Just think about it, we haven’t seen Mom and Dad in forever! Don’t you miss them? And you’ve actually gotten /muscle/ over the summer, wait till all the boys in class pass out with FEAR!” She punched him gently in the shoulder, successfully earning a chuckle from the much more somber twin.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right, Mabel.” He responded, with an affectionate noogie over her head. “After all, neither of us really expected to stay there /forever/. I can still figure out some secrets in the journal, yeah?” He attempted a hopeful smile, one that nearly broke her heart, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless. Raising her fist, Mabel held it near him, waiting for her brother to return the gesture.
“Mystery Twins?”
“Mystery Twins.”
As the let their fingers splay, Mabel giggled, her eyes catching a slight glow, a reflection in the bus window. It was gone in an instant, but she swore. . . .no, no. It couldn’t have been.
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The trip from Gravity Falls to their home was long. Long, tedious, and for now, Mabel was fairly certain that it was not wise to try and digest an entire ball of yarn due to boredom. Once the bus jolted to a halt in front of the stop, Mabel jolted awake from her sleeping position on Dipper’s shoulder, wiping the drool from her mouth. The boy next to her was far deeper in his dream world, a small smile playing on his face, and she could’ve sworn that his lips mouthed ‘Wendy’.
Blowing her bangs from her face, the sweater-clad girl shook him awake, blowing a raspberry in his ear for the desired effect. Dipper shot awake in a practiced form, one that only came from years and years of unpleasant, wet-willy awakenings. Looking towards her with glazed eyes, he only nodded, grabbed his bags, and set out the bus. Mabel followed suit, trying to ignore the chill that ran up her spine.
“Hey, Dipper. . . .” She muttered, rubbing her arm as she sat on the bus stop bench, watching the machine pull off into the distance. Her twin turned with a mumbled ‘Hm?’ of curiosity, sitting next to her and adjusting his hat. “Eh, it’s siiiillly.” Mabel later added, crossing her eyes and waving the puffy sleeves of her sweater. Dipper scoffed and nudged her, urging her to continue.
“Well. . . okay, okay.” Mabel turned towards him. “So, I dunno if you’re, like, thinking the same thing I am, because despite assumptions, we both know that telepathy is SO not our forte. Maybe psychic future telling, or mind control, but not telepathy. I mean, that’s /so/ overrated anyways, who likes telepathy? If I wanna get inside someone’s mind, I’d just send them one of ‘Mabel’s Mind Castle’ videos. Heh, there’s NOBODY that can get THAT image out of their head.” Grinning brightly, she nodded, before receiving a pinch on the nose from her brother.
“Mabel, you’re getting off topic again.” He reminded, rolling his eyes. “Come on, can’t you stay on subject for at least, like, a second? I’m already having trouble focusing, I don’t need my sister with the same problem.” Though his words were teasing, his tone was kind, almost concerned. Mabel felt another pang of guilt at the disappointment he was going through, and properly set her mind on track, nodding resolutely.
“Right, right. Okay, so, you don’t think that, well. . . anything followed us back, do you?”
“What do you mean, Mabel?”
“I mean, I know, it’s kinda weird! But I’m just kinda concerned, is all. What if we end up conjuring something that’s dangerous? Gruncle Stan can’t help us!” She knit her eyebrows, but raised them when Dipper suddenly hugged her, pulling her protectively close to himself. Mabel wasn’t un-used to receiving hugs from her brother, but unexplained ones needed to be, well, explained.
She wrapped her arms around his waist, worriedly listening to his tone, too somber for a twelve year old boy. “Mabel, can we just not talk about that? Please? I almost lost you to Gideon because Gruncle Stan wasn’t there, I almost lost you to a giant freaking Pterodactyl when Stan wasn’t there. Please /don’t/ mention that he’s not going to /be/ here for the entire /school/ year.” His grip tightened, and for one of the few times in her life, Mabel was genuinely scared, without even a silly joke to break the tension.
“Dipper. . .” Mabel muttered, and sighed, pulling away. Suddenly, she squished his cheeks, making a fish face with her lips. “Honestly, boy, snap OUT of it! You think that we can achieve full Mystery Twins power by being pouty-shouty all the time? Quit the dramatics, brazo, let’s just enjoy what we can! We’ve got so much to /brag/ about now, don’t you see? I bet your bum that none of the other kids solved /half/, or even a /third/ as many mysteries as we did.”
Dipper’s expression morphed from sadness to amusement, and before he knew it, he was cackling, laying a hand on her shoulder as he tried to catch his breath. “Pffft, you’re right! I guess we do rock after all, then. And not to mention, you’ve knitted practically a new wardrobe of sweaters, all the other girls will be so jealous.”
Mabel laughed, holding her stomach as the twins giggled together. This continued for practically hours, jokes between them, pokings, pushings, and the occasional nose pinch. As the hour ended, a black car pulled into the bus stop, and the twins loaded in, on the ride home once more.
As Dipper was exchanging wild stories with their mother and father, Mabel idly glanced out the window, kicking her short legs, leaning her elbow on the window. She heard Dipper’s voice calling her, and turned her head.
“Right, Mabel?” He asked, that familiar, curious light shining in his eyes, “You /totally/ had a pet pig!”
“Oh, duh!” She answered, grinning, “I can’t wait until I reunite with my precious, lovely, cuddly, hubby-wubby-porky-tubby piece of Heaven!” Squealing, she hugged herself as her parents laughed, as well as her brother. As he returned to entertain the parental units with another story about a misadventure, Mabel turned back out the window, eyes widening as another flash of yellow and black appeared. . . in the shape of a triangle.
Mabel rubbed her eyes, and it was gone, but she could’ve sworn she heard a faint, muted cackling.
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The Pines family home was an interesting, hellish mixture of eclectic, modern, rustic, contemporary, and anything in between. Mabel liked to label it as “garage-sale-chic”. No matter how much she missed Gravity Falls, she couldn’t quite deny the coziness of being in her own room again. Dipper lay across his bed, scratching notes in the blank pages of the journal, completely tuned into his own little world. Mabel thought it was cute.
Soon enough, the siblings were both asleep, snoozing peacefully on their respective beds. Mabel’s, filled to the brim with oversized sweaters, stuffed animals, and glitter, and Dipper’s, full of crinkled note paper, the journal plastered across his face.
Mabel mumbled, her dreams filled with scattering images of triangles, pyramids, glowing eyes and various runes. Her breathing quickened, her lips muttering ancient, latin incantations in her sleep. As the images drew to a sudden, short stop, she woke, sitting up in her bed with a thin sheen of sweat across her face. Gulping, she shot a guilty look at Dipper, before moving to slip off her bed. A good drink of water would do nicely.
The world suddenly grew gray and warped. Before she could process what was happening, Mabel was suddenly pushed back to the wall, wincing as her head struck the cuckoo clock. Her small fingers rubbed the bruise tenderly, eyes shifting up, widening in both horror and amazement at the figure before her.
“Hey there, Shooting Star!” Bill greeted, twirling his cane. “Man oh man, am I ever grateful for your brother’s never-ending negative energy, or else I’d /never/ have been able to hitch a ride back here.”