For Mabel.

That was the mantra that had gone through his head for decades on end.

For Mabel.

That had been the guiding purpose behind scores of horrible acts he'd carried out over the years, especially during that dark time when he'd do anything, anything, for the slightest modicum of power, for the chance to be one step closer to meeting his twin sister again.

For Mabel.

The words echoed through his thoughts again and again, his mind a record player that had caught on a snag, playing the same note over and over.

For Mabel.

But as Dipper hovered over a curved gray stone with the words Mabel Pines and a set of dates etched into it, it seemed that the more the words ran through his mind, the less meaning they held, until they were nothing but dull sound.

Because now, he knew, nothing that he did could ever really be for Mabel again.

The fight to be with her, once seemingly won, had now been lost for good. The Mabel Pines that he knew and loved would not be coming back. Not really.

It had been three weeks since the funeral now- three weeks, two days, eighteen hours, fifty-six minutes, twelve seconds- and there was still a large part of Dipper that wasn't ready to accept that she was truly gone, wasn't ready to rejoin the world at large, wasn't ready to do anything besides stare down at that gravestone as his eyes filled with golden tears.

After all that he'd done, he couldn't stop her life from coming to an end, not this time. Their time together was done. That hard work had bought him a few short decades with his sister, and now he was left to face an eternity without her.

It had been a peaceful death, at least, and following a good long life. Not like it would have been without that one hastily-made deal. Without his assistance way back when, she would have been gone well before her time, struck down in her prime.

But, of course, it went both ways; he had helped her, but certainly she had done her part to help him in turn. Without her assistance, both after their tearful reunion and even beforehand, when just the idea of meeting her had inspired him to cling to his humanity no matter what came his way... well, Dipper wasn't quite sure what would have befallen him, but he knew that he'd be in a much darker place if it hadn't been for her. The demon shuddered at the thought of it.

And that borrowed time, that too-short stretch of life bought at the price of her very soul, had gained Mabel a husband (though he too was nothing but a memory now), three children (still around, but for how much longer?), a number of grand-children... As the substantial pile of flowers and stones placed by her grave attested, Mabel Pines, though gone, was far from forgotten.

The children. That's right. He had to be with the children. Well, the triplets weren't exactly "children" anymore, they were grown adults now, but they'd always be children to him, their Uncle Dipper, who had watched them grow up (an opportunity that for so long he had thought to be a mere pipe dream). They might be adults now, but that didn't mean they didn't need watching over, and now he would have to do it in her stead.

And then there was the question of her soul...

Because eventually, somewhere in the world, a child would be born with her soul (the one he owned, the one that was now and forever his).

He didn't know when it would happen. Finding out wouldn't be that difficult for him, but he decided not to search the depths of his knowledge for the information, because deep down he didn't want to count the days, the hours, the seconds until then. "Soon," Mabel had told him when he had tentatively brought up the issue, "soon." But soon meant different things to different people, and what was "soon" to a disembodied soul hanging around until reincarnation might not be for the one who so awaited her return.

This new child with that familiar soul wouldn't be Mabel, he knew that much. They would be born in a different time, a different place, would look different and act different and go through all sorts of life experiences that Mabel never had and miss out on most of what his sister had gone through in turn...

But it would be close. Not Mabel, no, but holding her essence, the core of her being, just put into a different body and jumbled up a little.

It would have to be enough.

Things couldn't be for Mabel anymore, at least not in a way that she would appreciate outside of those brief pauses between incarnations, though he would be sure to honor her memory all the same. But he could do things to benefit others. Those that she left behind. Those that would take her place. He could be there for them, support them every step of the way, in good times and in bad.

Not for Mabel, no. That mantra would have to be retired.

But he knew now what he needed to do, what his new purpose in life would be.

For family. And for Mizar.