I do not own Gravity Falls.

The Gremlin Problem

Keeping a tight hold on Waddles' leash, Mabel let her pig pull her along through the forest, a fond smile on her lips. Her Mary Janes sunk into the damp ground, making squelching sounds with each step she took. Waddles bounded through the mud, pausing occasionally to lay down and roll around in a particularly dark mud patch.

"Waddles!" she laughed as he kicked up a clod of dirt, which nearly splattered onto the front of her purple rain jacket. "I already took my bath! I don't need another one."

Waddles oinked in response, standing up and shaking himself slightly before tugging on the leash once more. Mabel complied and continued walking, tucking her free hand into her jacket pocket as the chill started to numb her fingers.

"This isn't a very summery day," she mused aloud, tilting her head back to stare at the grey sky, the gentle raindrops hitting her cheeks and trickling down her skin. She lowered her chin and idly scrubbed the water away. "But it's the perfect day for you, isn't it Waddles?"

As if to agree with her, he promptly plopped down in yet another dark patch of mud and rolled onto his back. He squirmed around contently for a moment before he suddenly stiffened and turned back onto his stomach, staring rigidly off into the distance.

"What's wrong?" asked Mabel, a slight frown on her lips as she studied the area. They were a surrounded by a veil of mist, impairing her visibility, but she couldn't make out any shapes looming in the distance.

Then she heard it- a soft, almost high-pitched whimpering. Furrowing her brow, Mabel listened intently to the sound, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. "There," she said suddenly, pointing off to the right. "Come on, Waddles."

They pushed their way through the clump of bushes and onto another dirt path. The cries got louder and Mabel paused next to a moss-covered boulder. Waddles snorted harshly and started pulling away from the rock, not liking whatever he was smelling.

"Stop it," she chided. "Someone- or something- might need our help!"

She crept around the rock and gasped softly at what she found. Huddling against the slick surface was a small, fluffy brown creature, its tiny cries ringing in the dreary afternoon air. Its fur was matted down and filthy, and there were smudges of dark red blood on its arm.

"Aw, you poor thing!" cooed Mabel. She slowly extended her hands and gently picked the creature up. It started and began to thrash, its cries increasing in volume. "No, it's okay, I won't hurt you!"

To prove it, she tucked the ball of fluff inside her jacket. Soothed by the warmth, the creature stopped its movements and peered up with big black eyes, its pointed ears twitching.

"See? Better already." Mabel wrapped one arm underneath the creature to support it. "Let's go, Waddles. Doctor Mabel has a patient to help!"

Waddles stared at the lump underneath his owner's jacket, snorting suspiciously. An urging tug on his leash spurred him into movement and the two began the trek back to the Mystery Shack.

"Don't worry, little guy," said Mabel tenderly. "We'll patch you up and help you find your family. You'll be back home in no time!"

The creature purred and snuggled into the folds of Mabel's jacket. A few minutes later Mabel climbed onto the porch and nudged open the door, calling, "I'm back!"

She unhooked Waddles' leash and used the towel hanging on a nearby hook to wipe him down. "Sorry our walk got cut short, Waddles. I'll make it up to you." She pet him lovingly on the head as she kicked off her soaked shoes. She straightened and headed into the living room, Waddles trotting after her.

Ford glanced up from the book he was reading, a smile crossing his lips at the sight of his niece. "Hello, Mabel. Too wet out there for you and Waddles?"

"Of course not," said Mabel with a smile. "This is perfect pig weather. We came back early because we found something!"

She unzipped her jacket and held out the creature, who was sniffling and looking around his new surroundings curiously. They both jolted when Ford rocketed to his feet, book clattering to the floor, eyes wide with alarm.

"Where did you find that thing?" he demanded.

"In the woods," she squeaked, startled by her great-uncle's reaction. "Why?"

"That's a gremlin, and they're extremely dangerous!"

Mabel blinked and stared down at the adorable fluffball in her arms. "Um…are we both seeing the same creature?"

"You found a baby gremlin," informed Ford. "The older ones aren't nearly as attractive. But just because he's an infant doesn't mean he's not dangerous. You need to get rid of him."

"No way!" she cried in horror, holding the gremlin close. "He's injured!"

"And he probably deserved it," said Ford wryly. At Mabel's sharp, reprimanding glare, he sighed and moved closer, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Mabel, gremlins are vicious predators. They're docile during the day, but when night descends…it's a frightening sight."

"Frightening?" she echoed dubiously. "This little guy is frightening?"

"Looks can be deceiving. I nearly lost a hand to one of those little pests when I tried to research them. They're best left alone."

"But Grunkle Ford, he's hurt and cold and he needs help!" protested Mabel. "I can't just leave him!"

"I know it's hard, but trust me, it's for the best." Ford stepped back and crossed his arms, expression stern. "You don't know what gremlins are capable of. You will put him back at once."

Pursing her lips, Mabel knew it would do no good to argue. Giving a short nod, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the living room. Holding the gremlin close, she shoved her feet back into her shoes and stepped into the wet afternoon.

She stood in the yard for a moment, stewing over Ford's callousness. "So what if you're a gremlin?" she muttered aloud. "Just because other gremlins have bad attitudes doesn't mean you do. You're just a baby."

Now determined, she reached into her jacket and pulled out her grappling hook. She fired it at the attic window and the hook attached to the sill. She flew upwards and wrestled her way through the window, dropping to the hardwood floor in a heap.

"What the heck?" exclaimed Dipper, shooting upwards from where he was lounging in his bed. "What are you doing?"

"Ssh, I'm not supposed to be here," hissed Mabel. She set the gremlin to the floor and he scuttled off, waddling around on two short legs as he explored.

Dipper gaped. "That's not a gremlin, is it?"

"Not you too," groaned Mabel. "Grunkle Ford wanted me to put him back, but I can't! He's hurt and just a baby!"

"I think you should do what he says," said Dipper, eyeing the toddling gremlin warily.

"I'm just going to let him rest for a bit and then I'll bring him back," promised Mabel. "Help me? Please?"

Though Dipper was pensive, his sister's pleading expression caused him to surrender with a sigh. "Fine, but he's out of here before dark," he ordered. "Apparently they get nasty when it's nighttime."

"Deal!" Mabel grinned broadly. "Thanks, bro-bro. Can you get the First-Aid kit? And some food?"

"Alright," he grumbled. "Don't let it tear up any of stuff."

He left to get the desired items and, at the sound of ripping paper, Mabel turned around to see the gremlin tearing at one of Dipper's mystery novels. Eyes wide, she hastily went to stop him.

"We're gonna keep this our secret," she muttered.

When Mabel finished cleaning and patching the gremlin's wound, she decided enough time had passed for her to make her 'return' back to the Shack. With her trusty grappling hook she propelled to the ground and re-entered through the door. After hanging up her rain jacket she went down the hall and in search of Ford. She found him in the kitchen, making a sandwich.

"I did it," she said, trying to keep her voice cool. "I'm going upstairs."

"Mabel, wait." Ford turned away from his half-finished snack and extended an arm, expression slightly pleading. "Please."

Unable to refuse and unable to hold a grudge, she complied, moving further into the room and closer to her great-uncle. Ford gently cupped her cheek and said softly, "I know that must have been very difficult for you to do, and you must not be very happy with me. But this for your safety. Baby gremlin or not, I will not risk you getting hurt."

A sharp stab of guilt went through Mabel and she tried not to show it. "I understand," she muttered. "But I still don't like it."

"I know." Ford moved his hand to tussle her hair affectionately. "Gremlins are tough buggers. I'm sure he'll be fine."

"Yeah."

"Are you hungry? I can make you a sandwich."

"No thanks. I'm gonna relax upstairs for a bit. See you later."

She rushed out of the room, hating that she was the one who caused the disappointment to cross his face, and went upstairs, the guilt a heavy weight in her stomach.

"How'd it go?" asked Dipper once she entered the attic. He sat on the floor, playing a game of tug-of-war with the gremlin, using one of his socks.

"Okay. He thinks I'm mad at him, but I'm not." Mabel gave the creature a pat on the head. "I don't like lying to him. But I couldn't have done what he asked."

"I know." Dipper could not help but smile. "That's just who you are."

Mabel studied the gremlin's wrapped wound and was relieved to see that no new blood had appeared. "He's really cute. I don't know what Grunkle Ford is worried about."

"I'm sure he has a reason," replied Dipper. "He doesn't really have the best encounters with mythical beings."

The sock was wrenched from his grip and he jumped, eyes widening as the gremlin ate it in a few bites. Mabel clasped a hand over her mouth and fought back a laugh. "Might as well feed him the other one," she joked.

"Very funny," grumbled Dipper.

They spent the next few hours watching over the gremlin, making sure he stayed in the attic and didn't cause too much noise. The sun soon began to set and Dipper decided it was time for Mabel to return the creature.

"You want me to come with you?" he asked as his sister shrugged on a sweater.

"No, I'll be fine. If Grunkle Ford or Grunkle Stan come looking, cover for me." She scooped up the gremlin and went over to the attic window. "See you in a few!"

In a few seconds she was on the ground, the light rapidly diminishing as the sun descended over the horizon. She hurried into the forest and started the search for the place where she had found the little fluffball.

But unlike Dipper, she could not discern one tree from another, one rock from another. She found herself walking in circles, stumbling through shrubbery and tripping over roots.

"Okay, don't worry," she murmured, pausing in the middle of a dirt path and trying to get her bearings. "We'll get there soon."

"Grrr…"

The guttural sound, so different from the sweet purring she'd been hearing for most of the day, caused her blood to run cold. She slowly stared down at the creature in her arms, who was wriggling restlessly. She stared at the sky, eyes widening when she saw that the last rays of light were disappearing from the sky.

Oh no.

Mabel tried to place the gremlin on the ground, but his sharp claws were clinging to her sweater. Gulping nervously, she tried tugging him free. "Come on, you won't hurt me, right? I helped you. I took care of you. You don't want to hurt me."

With a loud vicious snarl, the gremlin reared back, one claw leaving the front of her sweater to swipe at her arm. He tore through the material easily, thick scratches opening on her flesh and starting to bleed.

Crying out in pain, she managed to fling the creature away from her. She clung to her injured arm, ruby-red blood oozing between her fingers. She scrambled backwards, body trembling in fear as the gremlin jumped back to his feet, hissing furiously. His black eyes were narrowed and focussed on her, and in that moment Mabel wished desperately that she had listened to her great-uncle.

"Grunkle Ford! Help me! Grunkle Fooord!"

Though the television was currently broadcasting his favourite documentary, Ford paid it little mind, his thoughts elsewhere.

Mabel was clearly still upset with him, evident by her desire to return to the attic as quickly as possible. She had yet to come down, and her attempt at keeping the distance made him feel terrible. He hated having his niece mad at him, but he knew the right thing had been done. He would not apologize for his actions, not when he did them with her well-being in mind.

But these thoughts did nothing to cast away the blue aura that surrounded him. He had not heard Mabel's laugh or seen her smile in hours, and that hurt more than he ever thought it would.

She'll understand why I made her take that thing back…one day.

Waddles, who was lounging by his feet, suddenly sat up, ears twitching and head swivelling around. With a loud oink he clambered to his feet and raced out of the living room.

"What's gotten into you?" asked Ford in bafflement. Waddles' squeals grew more alarmed, and that in turn caused Ford's heartbeat to increase. He jumped out of the chair and hurried after Waddles, who was now pawing insistently at the door.

He must sense something…

Grabbing his weapon-loaded trench coat from the hook, he slipped it on and threw open the door, posture tense. He did not see anything in the darkness that surrounded him, but his acute hearing picked up a distressed cry, echoing through the night air.

"Grunkle Ford! Grunkle Ford!"

Terror immediately seized him at Mabel's desperate shrieks. "Stay here!" he barked at Waddles before racing into the forest, heart pounding in his chest. He sprinted across the forest floor, straining his ears to pinpoint Mabel's location. "Mabel! Mabel, where are you?"

"Grunkle Ford! I'm over here!"

The shout coming from his left, Ford spun on his heel and charged through a section of trees. He immediately spotted his niece cowering on top of a rock, bleeding from her arm and trying to fend off the vicious gremlin who kept leaping at her, snarling fiercely.

"Get away from her," he roared, rushing forwards and putting himself protectively in front of his niece.

When the gremlin once more tried to attack, he went to smack him away, hissing in pain when the little beast managed to sink his teeth into back of his right hand. He used his other hand to reach into his jacket and remove a canister of pepper spray.

"You messed with the wrong family," he growled.

A cloud of pepper spray surrounded the gremlin, who instantly began to cough and splutter. He dropped to the ground, wheezing and distracted, and Ford wasted no time. Ignoring the blood dripping down his fingers, he scooped Mabel into his arms and escaped.

Mabel clung to the front of her great-uncle's sweater, crying softly. Her arm hurt and she now felt incredibly guilty. Ford had warned her and she didn't listen, and he had gotten hurt because of her.

Ford did not stop sprinting until they were safely back at the Mystery Shack. Breathing heavily, he nudged open the door and found Waddles waiting. "Go upstairs," he instructed the pig. "She'll be fine."

Oinking softly in response, the well-trained pig obeyed. Ford held Mabel close as he headed for the bathroom. He encountered Dipper in the hallway, and the boy regarded the two with wide, concerned eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked anxiously.

"We're fine," assured Ford. "Go upstairs. I need to take care of your sister."

'We also need to talk' went unsaid, but Dipper heard it nonetheless. He nodded in understanding, cast one more look of worry at his sniffling sibling, and hurried for the attic.

With a heavy sigh Ford entered the bathroom, flicking on the light and gently setting the girl on the edge of the sink. Mabel hiccupped slightly and raised her head, watching as her great-uncle retrieved the First-Aid kit, which she had managed to put back after treating the gremlin.

They were both silent as Ford set about treating her wound. He tugged off her sweater, leaving her in a white tank top, and she flinched at the stinging sensation of the disinfectant. She bit down on her bottom lip, tears trickling down her cheeks.

"How's that?" asked Ford, securing a bandage over the injury.

"Fine," she said softly, staring at her feet.

Satisfied that she was taken care of, he then saw to his own wound. Once he was patched up, he cupped Mabel's chin and lifted her head up so that their eyes met. The simple gesture was all it took for Mabel to break down.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'm so sorry!"

"I know. I know." Ford wiped away her tears, exhaustion creeping up on him now that the adrenaline was wearing off. "But you should have listened to me. When I give you orders, I do it for a good reason."

"I know you do. I just…I just wanted to help him," she said in a small voice. "He looked so helpless and I…" she trailed off and sighed, lifting her hand to scrub at her wet eyes. "I'm so stupid."

"No, you're not," said Ford immediately. When she looked at him in surprise, he pressed on, voice firm. "You're compassionate and caring and loving. Your intentions were pure. I understand why you went against my orders. You wouldn't be you if you ignored someone in need."

"But it's my fault you're hurt," she pointed out remorsefully.

"Were you the one who bit me?"

Mabel cracked a smile at that. "No. But if I hadn't helped the dumb thing, it wouldn't have attacked me and you wouldn't have had to rescue me."

"It's my job to rescue you when you're in trouble," said Ford simply. "Don't worry about me. You made a mistake. One I'm sure you won't make again."

"Definitely not," she said feelingly.

Ford removed his hand from her cheek and set it on the edge of the countertop. "Mabel, I'm afraid there are some people- and creatures- in life that simply cannot be helped. They'll have to be left alone, and you will have to let nature take its course. I know this is a hard fact for you to accept, but from now on, you need to listen when I say something has to be left alone."

"Okay," she agreed. She didn't like the idea, but she also understood Ford's perspective after this disastrous night. "I'll do my best." She regarded her great-uncle hesitantly. "Are you…are you mad at me?"

"Well, first I was terrified, then I was furious towards the gremlin, then I was worried, and now I'm exhausted." Ford reached and ruffled her hair affectionately. "Tonight's your lucky night."

"Are you disappointed?"

"Perhaps a little. You lied and disobeyed me, and nearly got killed because of it." When her face fell, Ford added, "But being disappointed doesn't mean I'll ever stop loving you."

Her spirits lifting, Mabel smiled. "I love you too, Grunkle Ford. I really am sorry."

"I know you are." Ford lifted her into his embrace, a soft smile on his lips when her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, her head buried against his shoulder. "I'm guessing your brother was in on this?"

"Kinda. He only kept it a secret because he knew I wouldn't give in."

"Of course," said Ford with a sigh. "You two are going to be the death of me one of these days."

He left the bathroom, Mabel snuggled in his secure grasp. Though now he knew that the girl had not really been mad, he still felt delighted that she was once more affectionate with him. A day without his niece's hugs was a rather sad day indeed.

"…Grunkle Ford?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Am I grounded?"

"Oh, big time."