Chapter Text
“This is nice,” Mabel said. She and Dipper were in the middle of a game of indoor mini golf. After they rebuilt the course, Dipper wanted a rematch. He swung his club, wincing as the ball smashed through the window. He and Mabel looked at each other for a beat. Then, they burst out laughing.
“My turn.” She swung her own club, and as she did so, Dipper joked, “Betcha can’t miss the window, Shoot—”
He stopped, clapping a hand over his mouth. Mabel dropped her club. Nobody called her by that nickname. Nobody but—
No. That’s impossible. “What did you just say?”
“I-it’s nothing!” Dipper stammered, his eyes shifting left and right. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Mabel glared at him.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not—”
“Dipper, look at me.”
At last, he did, and she saw it. Just a split-second flash, but she saw it. His eyes were yellow. “Bipper?” she whispered.
For a second, Dipper was back. His eyes were chocolate brown and wide with horror. “Mabel, run! He’s—” Before he could warn Mabel, he lost control again. His eyes glowed, his pupils slits. Mabel fell back, scrambling away from him.
“NO! I stopped you!” Mabel cried. She remembered it so clearly. Bill had severely underestimated her. He forgot that nobody knew Dipper and his weaknesses better than her. It didn’t matter how powerful Bill Cipher was. She’d kicked his butt!
Bipper clucked his tongue. “The thing is, Pine Tree never broke our deal. It’s still ironclad. And after your little stunt last night, I’ve got a lot of steam to blow off.” His eyes suddenly flashed a brilliant red, his voice a deep echo. “And this time, you’re not getting in my way.”
“What are you talking about?” Mabel squeaked. “This is a prank, right?” She laughed, hoping Dipper would laugh too.
He did, but it wasn’t Dipper’s laugh. The sound was grating, high-pitched, with the same unsettling echo. Bill’s laugh. “Sorry, it’s just so funny how gullible you are! You think you’d notice when your own brother starts acting a little strange.” He tilted his head. “Of course, you had… other things on your mind.”
Mabel’s cheeks burned with shame as she remembered blowing off her own brother for a dumb guy. Even worse was taking his journal and severely injuring him during the fight. She remembered Dipper trying not to wince as they headed to Stan’s car, remembered his head falling on her shoulder as he finally succumbed to over twenty-four hours’ worth of missed sleep.
And she remembered a note.
“You’re wrong. Nothing is more important to me than Dipper.” Mabel glowered at Bipper, pushing herself back to her feet. She wasn’t sure if she could fight her brother again. Maybe she should get Grunkle Stan. If he was willing to fight a horde of zombies, her possessed brother should be no problem.
She ran for the door. No way was she letting that dumb nacho-demon get away with this!
But as she attempted to turn the knob, it wouldn’t budge. “Looking for this?” Bipper asked. Mabel turned to him. He twirled the key around and around his finger.
She backed up into the door as he walked toward her. She reached behind her, jiggling the knob. Maybe Stan would hear it rattling and come. “You know what the best part of that night was?” Bipper asked, and his grin remained fixed into place. “Watching you read the little note I left behind. Don’t worry—your brother will be joining you soon enough.”
Mabel burned with rage at the threat.
“LEAVE MY BROTHER ALONE!” Mabel lunged for the key, hoping to wrench it from his hand. With impossible strength, he grabbed her arm and twisted it.
Mabel screamed as the bone snapped.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Bipper asked lightly. “Where’s the fun without feeling?” He grabbed her by the throat and squeezed. The room began to shimmer. “I can hardly feel a thing without one of you meat puppets to inhabit. Obviously, my old puppet wouldn’t do. Not with that stupid metal plate.” He growled the last words. He dropped her, and she collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath.
Bipper looked over at Dipper’s bed, where the journal lay—they’d believed that Bill couldn’t get to it, now. They were wrong.
“Don’t worry, kid. I’ll be leaving soon. But first…”
Bipper snapped his fingers, and cobalt flames appeared in the palms of his hands. He raised his hands up. “Remember? Burning! Stabbing! Drowning! That first one sounds really fun.”
It’s like a buffet tray of fun! Mabel wanted to vomit. “You wouldn’t.”
He grinned wider and, in the next instant, Mabel heard a loud WHOOSH. The entire room—the walls, floor, and ceiling became engulfed in flames. Mabel ran for the door, pounding on the wood. “GRUNKLE STAN! GRUNKLE STAN! HELP ME!”
She looked behind herself and realized the fire circled her. It seemed to spiral, rising off the floor, and as she attempted to plunge through, she found herself at its mercy. She fell to the floor and screeched like a banshee, rolling. But she couldn’t smother the flames.
She looked up at the door, where her brother stood. She weakly reached a hand out to him. “Please,” Mabel begged, pausing as a ragged cough tore from her throat. She felt her chest vibrating from the intensity of it. “Please!”
Bipper looked down at her coldly.
“Should’ve minded your own business, Mabel.” Bill’s voice blended with Dipper’s. His eyes flashed.
Then, he strolled out and held the door shut.
Trapped, Mabel coughed as the fire spread, clinging to the curtains, to the bedsheets. Her stuffed animals split open as they burned, the eyes melting from the heat. She pulled herself up, cradling her injured arm against her chest, and ran for the door, already feeling the heat soaking into the floorboards, and started hammering on the door. “LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!” She slammed her good shoulder into the door, again and again. Blood dripped from her shoulder, but she could hardly care. “DIPPER! GRUNKLE STAN! SOMEBODY!”
From outside, the smoke alarm was screaming. She pulled herself up and looked out the broken window.
Stan’s car was gone. Her heart sank as she realized the breath she’d wasted calling his name.
Her lungs were on fire, and she doubled over, coughing and wheezing from the smoke. Her skin blistered and burned from the flames. Her vision turned gray and hazy.
She remembered with horror that Bill wouldn’t stop with her; her poor brother would suffer a similar fate. Or worse. Like nobody could save her, nobody could save him. And when they were gone, they would wander endlessly through the Mindscape. Just like Bill promised. Out of breath, out of energy, Mabel curled in on herself, waiting for it to be over.
Perhaps it was an act of mercy when the smoke finally stole the breath from her lungs.