Chapter Text
“You’re gonna get us all killed !”
You’re gonna get us all killed. You’re gonna get us all killed. You’re gonna get us all killed. You’re gonna get us all…
The words rang in her head, echoing the pounding pain radiating from both temples. She was sure her eyes were shut but all she could see was white. A light bright enough to pierce through her, shine through her. But that wasn’t quite right. The light ate through her. Burned through her. She couldn’t move, couldn’t scream. Her body was gone.
She wasn’t sure how long she had been lying there before she realized the ground was beneath her. Still, she didn’t open her eyes. Didn’t move. Instead, she felt the cold dirt pressed into her face, palms, and legs. She felt some source of heat, the sun maybe, radiating down on her. A breeze brushing her cheek. She heard animal calls in the distance, rustling above her. It sounded so natural, so human, but something deep inside her told her it wasn’t a landscape she belonged in. The dirt was too spongy, the animals too shrill, the breeze too rigid.
Eventually, the switch in her mind that made her more than just an empty shell was flipped, and she was able to face the idea that no one was coming for her. Her brother wasn’t coming for her. Stan wasn’t coming for her. Wherever she was, she was alone here. It was her choice whether to lie down and die or continue on. She chose the latter and opened her eyes.
If she hadn’t been terrified, alone, and completely confused, Mabel would have been mesmerized by the colorful, oversaturated world around her. It was a forest, of sorts. However, the only real similarity it bore to any forest Mabel had ever been in before was the trees launching out of the ground. Only, these were different than any trees Mabel had seen. They were as wide and as tall as the redwoods of California but their trunks were completely smooth and bare, their foliage only growing on the very top--flat--creating a makeshift ceiling of twisted branches and leaves over her head. Light shot through the treetops at random angles, leaving its floor in a permanent dusk. The forest floor was sparse, dotted with dense patches of various alien plants huddled together in the sunlight. The colors were intoxicating. The leaves above her head shimmered in a tapestry of rich greens, blues, and violets. The ground was the same consistency as dirt, sure, but its color was a deep black, so dark it looked as if it had no texture, no consistency at all. The rest of the forest floor was a dazzling sea of reds, oranges, and yellows. It was like looking through fire.
She stood slowly, taking a deep breath in. She was suddenly struck with the realization that it had been an incredible stroke of luck that wherever she was, she had a breathable atmosphere. Her hand subconsciously made its way to her throat as she pondered the prospect of instant suffocation. With a jolt of memory, she turned-- the portal, she came through a portal --only to be faced with more iridescent forest. Whatever had transported her here was gone. Emotion welled up inside of her and before she could stop herself, hot salty tears were rolling down her cheeks. Tears turned to sobs turned to wails until her head was pounding and her chest was heaving under the weight of the behemoth of loss she was now the owner of. It was too large for her to make sense of. She could make sense of losing her brother. She could make sense of losing her Great Uncle, her parents, her friends… but her entire universe ? Everything? All of it? It made her feel like her brain was turning to soup, sloshing around inside her skull. She sank back to the ground and pulled her tattered sweater up over her face, her knees hugged tight to her chest, and she wailed and screamed and cried out curses upon the universe until her lungs were raw. She conjured up everything she could imagine she would miss: her rhinestones, waffles, kittens, Dipper’s late-night reading, her music, her art, her sweaters, her knitting needles, Stan ruffling her hair, grass under her bare feet… the list was endless. She grieved for everything she could think of, every morsel of humanity that was now lost to her, until she was completely purged and left panting and ragged. She felt wrung out, like a dish rag squeezed over the sink.
Eventually, she stood, and her feet began moving. One foot in front of the other. She walked through the forest in a haze, blinking dumbly at the technicolor surroundings. Animal cries pierced through the trees occasionally yet Mabel never saw any creatures. With each step she took her sense of self seemed to return. The colorful world around her became more stimulating than it was moments ago, certain flowers catching her eyes causing a twinge in her firmly pressed lips. A lightness returned to her steps. Her positive aura pieced itself back together step by step. Step by step. Silver linings started to creep through the gray clouds.
Her family wasn’t just going to abandon her here. And Dipper wouldn’t leave her, that she believed. Someone was coming to get her. Someone would come to get her. She remembered her mother grabbing her and Dipper by the hand, kneeling down to face both of them--She had her serious face on--and sternly telling them to stay in place if they were lost. Just stay in place. So that’s what she would do. She would stay close by until someone found her. Simple.
***
She quickly found it was not simple. After hours of pacing circles around the forest, she was left with the sickening realization that she had no idea how to survive. Survival was always more Dipper’s thing. Her world growing up had been soft and squishable and bedazzled. She tended to rely on a chaotic mixture of her instincts and her heart, a philosophy that had kept her out of danger so far. She truly believed things would work themselves out, and usually, they did. But as airtight as her system was, getting dropped in another dimension tends to throw a wrench in things. So she tried to think like Dipper. She dredged through the thousands of lectures, rants, and ‘fun facts’ he had given her, hoping to recognize some morsel of information that would guide her through the foreign landscape. She knew she needed water, food, and shelter. That much she could scrape together from some combination of Dipper, school, and the Red Cross babysitting course she had taken last summer. But as her eyes darted across bushes, flowers, and ponds, it was harder for Mabel to deny the panic creeping up inside her. None of the plants remotely resembled anything she was familiar with. The ponds were filled with foreign liquids. Was anything food? Did water exist here? Was she just going to starve and die? The thought gripped her with an iron fist that threatened to squeeze the life out of her.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement. A rustle of bushes or maybe the crunching of leaves… she wasn’t sure. But even without Dipper’s paranoid survival instincts, she knew that sound had been made by some creature rooting around in the underbrush. Her whole body froze, every hair standing on end. She didn’t make a sound as she hoped she had been close enough to one of the massive trunks to obscure her from whatever had moved behind her. Slowly… slowly the creature peered out from the dense patch of bushes it crouched behind. It was small, about the size of a house cat, with six thin legs protruding from its furry body. Its coat was jet black, the only thing distinguishing it from the onyx dirt were the eight red eyes--four on each side of its head--that stood out like blood against the forest floor. They blinked one after the other, thin membranes covering them for a few seconds, reminding Mabel of insects. The creature walked across the clearing sniffing the ground lazily, almost fearfully. Its head swiveled erratically, like a bird’s, as it took in the clearing. Determining if there was danger, Mabel realized. And despite the fear that held her still, she felt her heart give a slight clench at the sight of its little nose wiggling in the sunlight, sniffing the air. It was kind of cute… when you didn’t think about the massive eyes and spidery legs.
Minutes went by as Mabel watched the creature pad around the clearing, occasionally rooting through bushes, coming away with brightly colored berries it quickly devoured. Her heart stopped beating out of her chest. Her muscles relaxed. It seemed harmless enough. She wasn’t in immediate danger of being eaten, at least. And alien or not, it felt nice to share the forest with something. She was a social person, she thrived off connection. It had been ten hours since she had spoken to another human being, although she had no way of knowing that. She moved silently through the bushes and trees, trying to get closer to the creature but still hidden. It had found a patch of sunlight breaking through the dense canopy and had laid down inside of it, its long thin legs tucked up tight beneath its body so it looked like a black cotton ball. Mabel felt a familiar warmth fill her chest and she pressed her hands together in front of her face. Aw, cute . It reminded her of her family cat, Muffins.
Even as the hunger grew inside her, the ache built in her bones, and sweat poured down her brow, she could not pull herself away from her hiding spot in the bushes. Couldn’t bring herself to leave the only living thing she had come across all day even if it meant she would starve. At least she wouldn’t die alone. At least she could keep something company, something could keep her company. So when the creature began to stroll away, Mabel instinctually followed. Whether the furry animal a few feet ahead of her knew it or not, Mabel considered it her companion. Her guide through the technicolor forest. She had a vague memory of Dipper explaining that animals can lead you to water. But this was more than that. Some poisonous combination of exhaustion, starvation, and shock led her to believe that this animal would lead her to salvation. To her family, to humanity, to a way out of this. She followed it with a hunger unfamiliar to her, cutting through the dense bushes with a terror that did not care if the bushes scratched and bit in return. The hunger wasn’t just propellent, it was protective. Mabel kept watchful eyes on the animal’s path, searching for any threat that could be lurking in the dark. The creature was small and scared like her. It was also curious, playful, and intelligent. Like her. She would protect it from the dangers of this world the way she wanted to be protected.
Their chase ended as Mabel stepped out of the treeline and onto a riverbank with a stumble as if waking from a trance. The small creature was ahead of her, already drinking from the river’s edge. A strong, clear liquid ran through the clearing at a lazy pace, splitting the dense forest in half and creating a path of strong, warm sunlight following the river’s path. Mabel walked a few paces down from the creature before dropping to her knees at the edge of the river. Cautiously, she dipped a finger in and then a hand. It felt like water. Cold, intense, unstoppable. She sniffed. Odorless. Casting a final glance to the animal on her left--still lapping up the river--she cupped her hand and brought the river to her mouth, taking a nervous sip. Her eyes widened before she even swallowed. Water . Her body worked faster than her brain, greedily lapping up handfuls of water. But even that wasn’t enough and she mimicked the creature beside her in her thirst, bringing her head down and taking in big gulps of the river pounding in front of her.
Maybe that was why she didn’t notice the birds had all silenced. Didn’t notice the sound of trees rustling behind her. The sound of a predator stalking her prey. Didn’t notice until she heard a strangled cry from the left and her body shot to attention.
A creature the size and shape of a mountain lion had its saber tooth teeth wrapped around her guide’s throat. It squealed out in panic, flailing aimlessly in the predator's steel grip. The cougar (if you could even call it that) was covered in deep indigo fur aside from the spots on its back where six jagged talons jutted out, matching the size and sharpness of its long teeth and claws. The breath was sucked out of Mabel as her heart bounced between fear and rage. She didn’t dare move as the cougar continued playing with its meal, back turned from her. Without letting her gaze drop from its muscled back, Mabel dipped her hand into the river and wrapped it around one of the large rocks littering its floor. But before she could decide how to use it, the cougar’s feline eyes snapped around to meet hers. There was nothing but hunger in the creature’s eyes. She knew it didn’t see her as anything other than meat. A swift and deep terror overtook her.
In one fluid motion, the cougar dropped the small black creature from its jaws and pounced on Mabel.
She didn’t remember most of the battle. She didn’t remember the cougar tearing through her sweater, through her hair. She didn’t remember its jaws snapping desperately, inches from her face, its spittle coating her skin. She didn’t remember it cutting ribbons through her leg. Through her sides and arms.
She did, however, remember the sound the cougar made when she finally brought the rock down on its head. She remembered the snap and crunch as another blow shattered its skull. She remembered the final shudder before the creature went limp and she was pinned under its dead weight. Coated in its sticky blood.
She let the rest of her shut down, adrenaline and shock taking over as she hauled herself out from under the animal’s body. She looked down at herself and knew she had been hurt. She could see the gashes in her legs and arms but couldn’t conjure up the pain she knew was supposed to match them. Her entire body buzzed with power and fear and guilt and sickness as she numbly stared at the corpse she was now responsible for. The animal she had killed . She had never killed anything before. Anything. She used to stop Dipper from killing spiders in the house. She made Stan buy turkey bacon so they wouldn’t offend Waddles. She wasn’t a killer.
A whimper from the treeline cut through the mounting panic in Mabel. Mabel’s companion had survived the cougar’s strike, too, and was cowering pathetically in the shadows of the trees. Despite her anguish, Mabel felt the familiar need to help rise inside her. Her posture and features softened as she took in the sight of the shaking, whimpering puff of black fur.
“Hey, little guy. It’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you…” she reached a heavy hand out, trying to ignore that it was covered in a sickening mixture of her and the slain cougar’s blood. The animal sniffed the air nervously, backing farther into its hiding spot. Mabel scooted an inch closer.
“Come on out… it’s okay, it’s okay…” she continued coaxing the creature out from its hole until it was inches away from her, sniffing the air around her blood-soaked hand. Its massive maroon eyes stared at her inquisitively as it pondered her scent, edging closer and closer to her. There was blood on its coat. If it would just move closer, Mabel could see where the injury was… maybe help it? Maybe that would make the limp body of the hungry cougar justified in some way.
She could almost feel the soft black fur under her fingers. Could see the fear and panic in its expression. She heard her fear and panic sung back to her in its whimpers and cries. Then a shudder. No more whimpers, no more cries. All its eyes closed at once, blinking to reveal perfectly jet-black ones in their place, suddenly making the creature indistinguishable from the landscape around them. A jolt of fear shot through Mabel and despite herself, she pulled her hand away. Its legs shot out from its body, its feeble nature gone in an instant. It was going to lunge at her, it was going to kill her--
A shot rang out and she screamed, the creature becoming visible to her as its outline disintegrated, radiating from the neon blue hole in its chest. She frantically scurried back, suddenly realizing her whole body was shaking. She jerked her head to the source of the blast, her eyes wide in shock.
“Grunkle Stan?”