Chapter Text
When Mabel was little, she and Dipper had learned in school about caterpillars and butterflies. Learned how a caterpillar would spin a cocoon around itself and turn into a beautiful butterfly that following spring. She remembered going home that day and wrapping herself up in every blanket in the house, so sure when she came out that she’d be different…somehow. She’d remembered thinking that she’d at least settle for longer hair.
Then a snow globe shattered onto the ground and suddenly she wasn’t pretending anymore.
Mabel floated in her pink chained cocoon, though it wasn’t a cocoon that she put herself into. She was asleep but she wasn’t. She saw nothing because her eyes were shut because her mind was off and yet she knew the great growing gap that was tearing into her soul was the same shape as the Rift that was tearing into existence in the sky above her. She felt something leaving her, like when she donated blood last week but times a thousand. Felt that undefinedsomething going into an all too familiar demon dorito with a stupid top hat and a really stupid bow tie (she used to like bow ties that jerk!) She wasn’t sure what was happening her but underneath her skin, in her soul, Mabel felt herself begin to get mad.
But it also felt like she was growing into something bigger, felt like her self was stretching, and then stretching again into something, what she had no idea. It felt like someone had unscrewed the top of her head and was trying to pour all of everything into it. Reality, the universe, other nerdy words that Dipper would use- it was all leaking into her mind and soul and it was itchy and also made the inside of her mouth taste like cotton candy. Her skin felt tight, far too tight, felt like there was too much for it to contain and that she would burst at any second. Something-no, someone, blossomed into her mind like puppy kisses and gave a little “hello!” She giggled and said hello back, felt that someone nestle deep into her self like an old friend (like Dipper…but even closer.) There was something growing in her, and when she emerged from her cocoon all of time and space would quake under her power (she didn’t think like that; was that the someone that was in her now?)
For now she was fine waiting, being fed by the forces of Chaos. Fine letting Billthink he had the upper hand. Fine being alone.
If there was one thing Mabel had learned this summer, it was a modicum of patience and-
—
Mabel Pines shot up in bed from a dead sleep. Next to her, Henry snorted, turned over, and continued to snore (he said she was the one to snore, but really it was him.)
She ran her hands through her hair.
It had been that dream again.
Half the time she had it… and nothing unusual happened, outside of maybe burping some multicolored bubbles throughout the day.
She had had that dream before she went to that conference in Australia and then Willow had almost died and Henry had changed. She had had that dream right after she found out she was pregnant, and had woke up to the feeling of something splitting and tearing inside of her, two becoming three. Despite the foreboding she was feeling at the moment, Mabel smiled at that memory; Acacia always had been stubborn like that. The smile left her face and Mabel drew her knees up to her chest. Half the time she had that dream it was just that, a dream. The other times however…
Inside she felt her other self stir, the cross like tear in her soul flaring up sleepy waves of rainbow before settling down. Mabel let herself fall back onto the bed, like a big roly poly, curled next to Henry’s warmth. She hadn’t done anything in a while, hadn’t let down her hair, let herself go; maybe she was just restless? They hadn’t turned the lake into root beer in a while, oooo or they could make the trees walk, Henry would like that right? Mabel waited for a reaction from the peanut gallery, but the other half of her soul had nothing to say to that. Instead she only grumbled and tossed and turned in her sleep, leaving Mabel as unsettled as before.
Whatever was going to happen, it wasn’t going to be good. But there was no point in fretting about it now. Tomorrow would be whatever it was, and if there was one thing Mabel had learned from years of monster hunting and brother chasing, it was that everything was a lot easier if you got some sleep beforehand.
————-
He was helping Hank with a tricky composition on his violin, fingers on top of Hank’s, when he felt it.
Dipper sighed.
At least it wasn’t a child this time, though the alternative wasn’t much better really. He wasn’t sure what was worse; the hunger he felt at the offering, the fact that people couldn’t seem to fuc̴k̴i͠n͢g̶ ͝get that this was the last thing he wanted (liar) or that this was what he had to look forward to for the next forever.
Hank gave a knowing look at his uncle; and since when had his nephew grown up? God Dipper was getting old.
“Hey Bright One, I gotta jet for a few minutes. You’ll be okay practicing those high notes?”
Hank nodded, readjusting his fingers (still would probably need work when Dipper got back but Hank was trying and that was what was important.) “Yeah Uncle Dipper.”
“Great.” He reached out and tousled Hank’s hair, because Hank hated that, because it was a bit of normalcy before the spell broke, and then he blipped to answer the call.
The first clue that something was off was the flavors of ecstasy and rapture, of deep satisfaction, that the sacrifice left in his mouth.
The second clue was that the woman lying in his circle had a smile on her face and was dressed in the same robes as her summoner. The knife that had ended her life, that had called him to this circle sat in her hand, fingers still curled around the handle.
The third clue was that the men and women standing in a ring around him looked at him like….well, like he was normal. There was no trace of awe, no fear or expectation, no waves of greed. Just bland smiles and the barest hint of excitement in their auras. It was like opening the door to missionaries, if missionaries wore blood red velvet robes and crowns of ivy. They looked at Dipper with the same interest one would give something cute on TV or an interesting billboard on the highway, but nothing more. He was so discombobulated that he couldn’t even spit out his regular extortion.
“W͜͏hat ͜d̡̡͢o̕͡ y̨o̷̧u ͏̷w̸a͟͠n̷̕t?” Dipper managed to grate out.
Nothing, though he noticed they began to shuffle back from his summoning as one. Good. They should be scared.
“Com̀e̸ now,” Dipper wheedled, stepping a little closer to the edge of his own circle (easily breakable, but he could give that another minute or two.) “Ǫn̴e͞ of̧ ̵yo͘u͠r͢ ow̧n͢ end͞e͝d h̶er̛ l̴i͠f͠e t̶o̴ b́r̸ing̸ ̸m͘e ̴h͘er͠e͜.͝ ͟ S͢u͠re̢l͞y ̴t̴here͘'͠s ̕so͡methìn̵g̷ ̕y̛o͘u wan͝t̡?”
Still nothing, and now despite himself Dipper was beginning to get a little freaked out. That same look was still on their faces in their auras. They were stepping backwards in time, which to be fair was typical cult behavior but combined with everything else, served only to creep him out even more.
His voice lost its reverb, he lost his edge, but he didn’t care because now all of his senses were screaming at him to get out. “Seriously, what the hell do you all want from m-“
They had stopped moving.
They now stood at the edge of a second, larger circle that Dipper hadn’t noticed, hyperfocused as he was on his summoners. A second larger circle that had some terribly familiar runes and oh fuck-
An older woman, the only one whose robes were subtly more ornate, finally spoke up.
“Dear Alcor, good sir. Our Miranda gladly gave her life to bring you here.” The hood of her robe fell back, exposing fully to his eyes a face frozen in rapture. “And in bringing you here, she helped us open the door to our Lord and Savior.”
“Hail Axariah, Hail the Eater of Galaxies, the Slayer of the Unborn,” her fellow cultist chanted, swaying back and forth as the second circle that he didn’t notice Dipper you’re the smart guy come on flared into life. Their dramatics should have been silly and dumb and overwrought, but Dipper felt the energy rising in the room and only knew fear.
It was time to leave but as he began to blip back to the Shack there was a terrible tear in reality, a hand that was a hand- wasn’t a hand had claws nails fingers tentacles something else- grabbed him, its grip implacable, and as he struggled and screamed, cursed and drew the life from the circle around him-
It drew Dipper Pines out of reality altogether.
————–
(Something’s wrong.)
Dipper didn’t come back that afternoon, and if Hank put his violin up with a sigh, it was only a small one, because he was sixteen, and he knew what his Uncle’s life entailed.
Dipper didn’t come back for dinner that night, which was a shame because Henry made green bean casserole and Acacia shot a peanut out of her nose and into Stan’s beer, an accomplishment she had been trying to do for a month now.
Dipper didn’t come back that evening when she and Henry played cards with Grunkle Stan for pennies and dimes, and it was still fun (and she still won) but it wasn’t quite the same without her brother playing with them, cracking jokes and calling out Stan when he cheated. He wasn’t back by the time they went to bed and it was odd for Henry to wake up in the middle of the night to have only one person instead of two drooling on him.
(Something’s wrong)
Mabel woke up to the taste of blood in the back of her throat and a sick feeling in her stomach and no Dipper. She thought about him as much as she could all day but it was Friday and game night. The Beavers hadn’t won a game at all this season, but Acacia as on the cheer squad, Willow worked the concessions for some extra cash, and Hank was dating the quarterback. It was time for the weekly struggle of trying to figure out how they were going to sneak Stan in despite his lifetime ban from the football stadium, and the sharp eyes of his mortal enemy, the vice principle.
“You know Grunkle Stan,” Mabel pointed out for the hundredth time as she applied makeup and fixed Stan’s wig. “If you just apologized to Mr. Galicki for selling those videos-“
“Never! ‘Mistakes to Learn From’ was one of my most profitable ventures ever! It’s not my fault this is the only team in Oregon that’s never won a game ever. Heh, that schlub should thank me for helping! And-“
Henry leaned in and deftly plucked the flower boutonniere that was in Stan’s lapel. Wires trailed out of Stan’s jacket as Henry pulled it away. Henry arched an eyebrow at Stan who, to his credit, didn’t try and protest.
(Something’s wrong)
It had been a quiet day without Dipper which Mabel had to admit was a little nice (no). She finished a batch of crocheted hot pink holster covers for Candy’s shop, and started on her next big commission, a wedding dress. She tackled a researcher she caught trying to take a grimoire home, met Henry for lunch at the diner, and went grocery shopping. She helped braid Acacia’s hair before the game, got a flame broiled hot dog from Willow at the stand, and tried not to squee at the sight of Hank mooning after the quarterback.
Mabel made breakfast (where was he?) and tried to teach Gompers how to play fetch (he usually gave some kind of sign when he’d be gone this long) like she had been for the last year. She pulled books off shelves for patrons (he could take care of himself) and snuck free bumper stickers to her favorite researchers (this was Dipper on the other hand) when Grunkle Stan wasn’t looking. She did rock paper scissors (how could she trust Dipper to take care of himself?) with Stan to see who got to drive to the store, attempted to fix a leak in the bathroom (the silverware cabinet was warded for pete’s sake), and spent an hour cleaning up the water from said fixing (Dipper where are you?).
Everyone went to bed that night steadfastly denying that there was something wrong, that Uncle Dipper would be back any second now, and Mabel had a feeling that that lie tasted just as bad in the mouths of her family as it did hers.
(Something’s wrong Mabel Pines.)
———————-
The Rift was throbbing above her head throbbing in time with her heartbeat, but she wasn’t a little girl any more, she was a wife and a mother, a businesswoman and a hunter, sister, niece, snappy dresser-
She almost fell off of her swing, and as the stuffed animal tree she was swinging on squeaked worriedly, her heart sped up and the Rift above her began to grow-
Mabel looked up and sighed.
“Enough of that.”
The Rift continued to grow larger and larger, eating up her cotton candy pink sky, the yarn-owls, the clouds made of marshmallows and-
“I said enough.”
The tiny wisp of her power that she let out was enough to stitch the Rift up completely but-
Mabel looked at the world she created, now entirely ablaze, and signed. She shifted in her seat and continued to swing. It was a good thing this was all a dream, none of this was real and she wouldn’t get burnt.
But that was the kicker, wasn’t it? This could be the real world and she stillwouldn’t get burnt, still could light the world on fire because of what was inside of her.
Tuck and kick, tuck and kick, and she was flying high again, sailing above the fire, the stars, the blades of licorice grass that hadn’t burned up yet.
She had everyone fooled. Most days she had herself fooled too. It was easy to pretend that she was the normal one of the two of them, pretend that she had escaped the Transcendence with nothing different about her, unlike poor Dipper. Pretend that all of what the bubble had given her (had awoken what was already there) had gone into saving Dipper, poured into him the second she saw his chest stop rising.
Lie and pretend that she didn’t unleash fifty foot Dream Boiz onto the Australian Outback after that one bad breakup. Lie and pretend that you didn’t turn Lake Erie into root beer for three days that time she was sick in eleventh grade. Lie and pretend that the driving force of the universe, the spark that gave life to every being and thing wasn’t running under the surface of her skin, crammed in like putting on a way too tight dress. Lie and pretend you meant it when you told your uncle and brother and husband that sneezing and turning the house into gingerbread or burping madness bubbles or any number of small things was the worse you could do.
She tuck and kicked harder, and went flying higher.
That wasn’t even scratching the surface.
Dipper had asked her once if she could turn him…turn him normal again. She had shook her head sadly and said no, and Dipper nodded, and after some quiet time seemed okay with that. He thought she couldn’t, but really shewouldn’t.
Mabel could do anything she wanted. At least, she was pretty sure she could. Every time she nudged at that other part of her being, gently poking and prodding like she used to do with her loose baby teeth, every time she tried to figure out what her limit was she would get… nothing.
Nothing was a lot more scarier than it used to be.
She could bring the dead back to life, really alive, and the world would plunge into chaos as souls that had started another life were torn away from their new lives and shoved into old shells. She could get rid of cancer forever and make unicorns nice and not big jerkfaces with the snap of her fingers, and reality would buckle and tear under the weight of that change. Mabel could rip the demon from Dipper’s bones, rip it screaming from his soul, send the last fragments of Bill on their way. She could do that and the Alcor shaped hole that that would leave behind would destroy the very fabric of the universe.
Every day she woke up knowing that she could end it all, if she wanted. Dipper thought he had it bad? Mabel paused in her swinging, letting her speed die down a bit, before starting to tuck and kick again. Okay, that was kind of mean of her. Dipper would be dealing with what she dealt with, just not now. More like a million or two years from now.
Around her the fire began to die down, and from the ashes arose new licorice grass and saltwater taffy bushes dotted with chocolate berries. Despite her worries and fears, Mabel couldn’t help but smile a bit at the sight. All things considered, she had done a pretty good job keeping herself locked up nice and tight, keeping a lid on the light that started the universe. Okay she slipped occasionally and she let herself do little things, but there was nothing wrong with that! It was like ladies night with the girls, but just for her, and with a higher possibility of insanity for everyone else around her.
The smile fell from her face, and she let the swing slow to a complete stop.
She didn’t know where Dipper was, didn’t know what had happened to him, and the worse thing was she had no idea what she would have to do to get him.
“Yes, you do.”
Mabel looked up to see herself standing in front of her.