Chapter Text
“Grunkle Stan… I trust you.”
She moved her hand off the button, and went an extra step- she let go of the stand that the button was on. She trusted her Grunkle Stan. His desperation was something Mabel has never seen before. His words, his pleading, it was genuine. She may not be the smart Pines twin, but she can read people.
Besides, she could always blame herself later if her choice backfired.
One of her choices that night had backfired. It wasn’t the one that her brother expected, though. Dipper had looked at her, with wide eyes as the portal began to draw her in when she let go. She realized moments too late, when she was already floating with nothing around her to grab onto. She reached out uselessly towards her family, her eyes wide with panic.
“Mabel!” Her brother had yelled out. He had tried to push himself off the wall, trying to reach her. Soos had done the same, and her Grunkle had been trying to get his arms unstuck
“No no no no!” He yelled. His tone was filled with panic, and he had this horrified look on his face.
Mabel reached out, fear oh so clear in her voice. “Dipper- Grunkle Stan!” She had yelled before she disappeared through that portal.
In that moment, Mabel couldn’t bring herself to regret trusting her Grunkle Stan. This was an outcome that neither of them had expected. She could have- should have- held onto the stand, lowering her hand and holding on tight.
If she had just done that, Mabel would have been safe at home right now. Instead, she fell against the ground of this alternate dimension hard. She swears she can still feel those particular bruises.
Mabel remembers sitting up, a soft groan leaving her as she forced herself up. Her knees buckled slightly, and she had almost fallen again. She brushed her long hair out of her face, and found herself staring at her surroundings with…
Shock?
Horror?
Amazement?
It was utter chaos. It felt like the images and drawings from Dipper’s stupid journal came to life. ‘That doesn’t make sense.’ Mabel had to remind herself for the eleventh hundredth time. ‘The journal is real. This is like the journal on smile dip.’
It truly did feel like her smile dip hallucination, but if the hallucinations were dipped in nightmare fuel. “Frowny dip.” She had decided, a forced laugh leaving her.
Dipper would have pointed out that awful, horrible joke.
But he wasn’t here right now. Dipper would have loved this too. Something new and exciting to explore, something that the journals didn’t even talk about. He would be able to add new entries to the thing, explore and have his own adventures here.
The panic set in shortly after.
She’s in an alternate dimension, completely alone. A nightmarish realm that she can’t even begin to describe. Mabel’s hands had begun to shake, and she had blindly reached for her side bag.
While Dipper’s vest had a multitude of large pockets and spaces he could hide things in on the inside, Mabel tended to forget that yes. She can knit pockets into her sweaters. That’s a possibility. As a result, she started to wear a side bag underneath her sweater.
It also got her some hilarious reactions when she reached under her sweater only to pull out knitting needles.
She had sifted through it, her hands shaking as she examined exactly what was in her bag. A pair of knitting needles, some yarn that she was going to use to knit Pacifica a sweater, super glue, glitter, scissors, needle and thread, and her grappling hook.
“Where’s-”
Her hand had come into contact with her only food item- a half eaten container of sprinkles. She stared at it for a moment and groaned. If she was more like Dipper, she would have maybe had something of more sustenance in her bag.
‘Don’t panic yet,’ Mabel scolded softly to herself. ‘The portal could reopen. Grunkle Stan just rebuilt it right? There’s no reason that it wouldn’t be able to reopen. I’ll just wait here for it.’
Mabel waited.
The portal had worked, right? Her Grunkle built it, or at least fixed it? Mabel wasn’t entirely sure what had happened there, but surely they could reactivate it?
Mabel had waited.
It didn’t open.
How long has she been waiting again?
Mabel finds herself looking around quietly. She hesitantly reaches into her bag and pulls out one of the things of yarn- a pink one. She wasn’t sure what was exactly going to be on this sweater, but she needs something to do while she waits.
It’s almost mindless, the way she moves her hands. She’s done this a million times, the only thing that has changed is where she’s doing it.
A noise catches her attention, and she finds herself pausing in her knitting. Mabel looks towards it. It's not a creature she can really find a name for, but it’s almost like a bug-cat? It’s about the size of a cat, incredibly fluffy with wide eyes. Its tongue is hanging out slightly, and it has six legs and wings.
“Awe, you’re kind of cute aren’t you?” She asks with a small smile. The creature merely blinked at her, staring at her quietly. It slowly comes closer to her. “Look at how fluffy you are! You’re so-”
Mabel holds her hand out to pet it, crying out when sharp teeth digs into her hand. She quickly reaches for her bag, blindly grabbing at her prized grappling hook. She aims and fires, shoving the creature away from her.
The noises that leave it are borderline nightmarish. Snarling and growling, and foaming at the mouth. That’s her blood coming from its mouth, isn’t it?
Mabel shoves her grappling hook in her bag, along with her yarn and needles. The creature starts to run towards her quickly. Mabel quickly bolts away, putting her bag on properly as she runs.
She can hear the creature behind her, gaining on her. She wills herself to run faster, reaching for her grappling hook again so that she can push it back again. She grasps it tightly, turning to aim-
The creature jumped at her, its sharp talons digging into her and ripping her sweater. Its maw snaps at her, and she feels one of its paws on her stomach, dragging down. Her hand shakes as she reaches for her bag. She tries to find something- anything. Her hand wraps around a knitting needle.
She grasps it tightly, and slams it into the creature’s eye. It howls in pain, leaping off of her with a loud growl. But it runs off, regardless, leaving her alone with her injuries. She wants to vomit seeing the blood seeping through her sweater, pooling around her.
She trembles, forcing herself to stumble up.
She isn’t safe here. She needs to survive, she has to get home.
Mabel picks up her grappling hook with shaky hands, shoving it into her bag before looking for a safe space to hide. A rather large rock ends up being her best bet.
She shakily removes her sweater, squeezing her eyes shut without thinking. She knows she has to treat her wounds, but she hates blood. She hates gore.
Slowly, she opens her eyes, staring at the wound on her stomach. There’s so much blood, enough to obscure her injury. Regardless, she finds herself looking away from her injury and vomiting.
Her hands shake as she pulls the scissors from her bag. She blindly cuts her sweater up, using the scraps to wrap it tightly around her wound. She just needs to live long enough for the portal to reopen.
Her eyes widened in slight horror.
The portal wouldn’t reopen here, would it?
She doesn’t even know where she has been anymore!
A sob leaves her at that realization. She curls in on herself, in pain and terrified, hoping for a miracle.