An angsty story for the second anniversary of TAU.
It was a fairly ordinary night in for the Pines family. Henry was out for the weekend at some kind of librarians' convention, and Mabel was grocery shopping (and with seven people to feed and one of them a demon, long trips to the grocery store were common), which left Dipper and Stan to watch the kids.
So, naturally, they'd summoned Dipper to the physical plane with a bag of lollipops and were playing Monopoly.
Technically, Dipper was only the banker, because house rules said that no one with omniscience could have a pawn, but that rule said nothing about auctioning off hints or specified rolls of the dice to whoever offered the most candy in return.
One far-too-easily-purchased Park Place and a couple trips to Jail later and the game had devolved into more of a shouting-and-auctioning match with the occasional throw of the dice, but the kids weren't running wild over the entire house, so Dipper considered it a success.
Of course, it wouldn't have been a weekend night at the Pines house without a summoning.
Dipper groaned internally when the summons pulled him out of the room in the middle of dealing out $200 in fives to Stan (the fives had been Acacia's request, backed by an ice cream Snickers from the freezer) and into yet another dark basement.
The summoning circle was tight, precise, drawn in blood – mostly pig, with a few drops of human mixed in. Handmade candles, beeswax with the barest hint of Yggdrasil– not enough to get him high, just enough to make his brain a bit fuzzy, knock him off his game some. The deer that had been the sacrifice lay on the ground in the middle of the circle, still-warm blood pooling from its neck.
Whoever had summoned Dipper was practically a professional, and as much as the amateurs were annoying, the ones who knew what they were doing were far more dangerous. Dipper began prodding the circle for weaknesses immediately, and launched into his standard opening with an extra bit of fury and fire.
"W̞̠̓̈͂̅ͮ͂͜H̸̠̰̻̞̘̋ͥ̓͒͂̚͟O̸̭̟̪͇͎ͮ̓̚͜ͅ ̷̮͈̦͓͗͒͗̂ͤ̿ͪ̆̎̕͞D̸͍͈ͤͣÄ̴͎͓̭͖̰̥̯̗̆̕R̸͍͙̼̰͛̈́ͨ͐̐̆͂̏̈E̷̜̰̟̪̪̭̠͚̒ͣͦ͗͌͒̚͠S̀ͧ͒̈ͬͨ̅ͩ͞҉̙̱͖͞ ̶̤̬̼̹͖̼͕̟ͨ́T͎͈̺̞̹̩̹̓̌̄ͤ̏͌͒͠O̶̱͔͎̝̝̓͊͊ͮ̓͝ ͎̜̳̱̥ͫͩͨ̏ͩͫ͐̀͘Ś͚̘̃U̴̟͖̳͙̥̭͈͊͋ͪ̈͋͑ͣ̓͘M̷̶̬̘̲̈̒́M̶̵̥͉̤͈͈͍̫͑̉O̶̜̺͑̓̽ͭŅ͔͈̯̣ͧ͂͋̓ ̜̠̪̥ͨ̕ -,"
"Dipper Pines," came a voice from the shadows outside of the circle of candles, and Dipper felt the grip the summons had on him tighten exponentially with the use of his true name.
It hadn't been twenty seconds and already this summoning was one of the bad ones.
Still, he could work with this. He'd gotten out of tighter situations before.
"Y̖̫̱̗̌͐͆̾̚o̘̻̠̗͔̞̰ụ̣̉̒̏͐ ̪̞͖̫͙d̩̒͒̚i̓̓d̰͖̈́n͍̝̓̐̓̂̓ͅ'͎̿t͍͛̆̉ ̂ͨã͔̘̣̫̗͑͗n̻͔̂̊͛s̬̗̠̲͓̓͗ͨ̌ͦ̄̋w̟̜̭̝͓ͩ̒ḙ̞̙ͦr̫͓̥̲̜̯̺ͮ ͍̭̼͔͂̀͑ͩ̊̔m̼ÿ̟͇̙̰ͪ ̗͛̿̓͐q̲̰̓ͦȕ̫̂̀e̠̣̩̠̪͓̞͌͐̏̂́s̼̆ͣ̿̄t̬i̥̼͑̋̌̾̇͌ͤo̞̯̊̉̐̆̈ͤ̚n̦̗̠̘̩̠͛," he growled, filling his voice with power he wasn't sure he could exercise. He'd be damned if he let the summoners—and there was more than one in the room, he could sense them—know they had him.
"Are you really in a position to be making demands right now?" the summoner asked, but he did step forward, into the gleam of the candlelight, so Dipper could see his face.
Dipper struggled not to react. The summoner was familiar, for sure, but not in the way he expected it to be, not someone from the New Canaan Church on the edge of town or one of the paranormal or demonology students who visited Gravity Falls. No, this was someone he'd known when he was still human, and only then.
"A͙̙̫̯͚̻g̻͚͙̠̖͖ͅe̼n̝t̟͍̤ ͓͙̹̣̼̤͓Pow͕̘͎̘̫ḛ͙̣̮̻̹r͇͕̮s̤͙," Dipper purred. "To what do I owe the honor of being summoned by the U.S. Government?"
"And I thought demons were supposed to be omniscient," Agent Powers said. He casually adjusted the cuff of his sleeve—he was wearing a black suit, not one of the hooded cloaks that seemed to be popular with cultists. "I was removed from my position years ago, right around the time Gravity Falls became the center of the Transcendence only weeks after we'd checked it for any supernatural activity."
His voice was like an icy road, cold and dangerous. One wrong step, and . . . well, if Agent Powers knew Dipper's True Name, there wasn't really any limit to what he could do with that power.
"Sounds like you should've been paying more attention to the town," Dipper said breezily. He was walking on thin ice, but there was only a slim chance that Powers knew his memories had been erased, and keeping up a confident image might be a greater help than taking the safe route for this conversation. He was desperate to not let them know how well they had him.
"It was a mistake, to be sure," Powers said, voice stony. "One I'll be correcting soon, I assure you."
"Correcting?" Dipper asked.
"Listen, demon," Powers said. "We're going to be making a deal."
"I can't reverse the Transcendence," Dipper cut in. "It's too big an event, even with my power."
"I assumed as much," Powers said. "Every demon has their limits, it seems."
Dipper internally sighed in relief.
"Except you."
Dipper froze solid, except for his wings, which twitched ever so slightly. Powers kept talking.
"You alone, of all demons, seem to grow, to learn, to increase your own power. It's true you can't reverse the Transcendence now, but given enough time . . ."
Dipper laughed, trying to hide the way it felt like his blood had frozen in his veins, even though he didn't really have either.
"How much time do you think you'll have, Powers? It would take lifetimes for me to gain enough power to even begin affecting the Transcendence. That would be an incredibly expensive deal, you know."
"Oh, I know," Powers said casually. "But, as you know, Dipper Pines—" and the grip the summoning had on him tightened again until it was hard to breathe, not that he needed to breathe but still—
"I know quite a bit about you, and I think I have the perfect thing to offer."
"Oh? And what exactly would this offering be?"
Powers jerked his head, and the other agent—Trigger—came over from the corner where he'd been standing, forcing a person with a bag over their head in front of him.
The realization hit Dipper like a train even before the former agent ripped the bag off—it was in the clothes, the posture, the aura.
"Mabel," he whispered.
His sister was bruising and bleeding from a cut on her forehead, a gag wet with what Dipper hoped was spit and not chemicals stuffed into her mouth, disoriented and blinking in the light of the candles. Her eyes found him, and she shot to attention.
Trigger pulled a knife out of nowhere and had it at her throat in an instant, and Dipper shot forward towards her only to smash into the walls of the summoning circle, still too strong for him to break.
"We will offer your sister's continued life," Powers said coldly.
"The terms you want?" Dipper hissed. Anything to save Mabel, anything to keep that knife away from her neck for five more seconds, for forever.
"You will erase all knowledge of yourself from the mortal plane," Powers began. "All of your influences, all trace of you. Only Trigger and I will remember anything about you and retain our own personal references. You will retreat entirely to your realm and answer only to Trigger and myself. You will cause no harm to Trigger or to myself. You will concentrate all your efforts on strengthening yourself, and as soon as you are able, you will undo the Transcendence."
"So you want me to—" Dipper started to say, but Powers cut him off.
"I am the one setting the terms here, demon. You will accept my deal exactly the way I said it, or your sister will die."
No, Mabel was mouthing, No no no. Even though she couldn't speak, he could feel it through the link they shared. Mabel would rather die for him then see him a slave to the former agents.
There had to be a loophole, some way out of the contract, but Dipper couldn't see it right now, couldn't think beyond keeping Mabel safe, getting Trigger away from her. All his demon instincts were telling him was that the deal was unfair, weighted heavily in Powers' favor, but this was Mabel and there was no way he would do anything less than he could for her.
He needed to know how to get out of it, how to rip them off, but the knife was cutting into Mabel's throat and the first drop of blood was oozing out, and he could see Mabel flinch even though she tried not to and—
"Ỳ̯̬̱̘͇̗̣̟̬̘̃́̓̊̀Ő̳̺̭͍̈́̀̓ͪͩ̐ͦ̑̀U͎̟̪̪͍̣͍͇͕͇̮ͬ̏͂ͣͅ ͍͈̭̙̃ͩ͑͗͒͋̀H̦̰̗͉͇̀̔ͮ͑ͬ͂̽̆̉͂ͮ͊Á̘̞̜̭͚͉͔̲̟̽̋̐ͬ̆͆̌̂V̘̠̱̮ͬͤ͑ͨE̮͎͚̜͚̰̪͍̤͍̫̣̰̠̱̠͍̝ͯͫ͗̅ͪ̈́ͯ̑ͤͥ͛̒ͦͅ ̗̦̭̯̗̻͖̻͔͚̪̣̤͈̟̝̰̳̐͋ͭ̓ͬ̑̑̅̀ͦͦ͋A̱̱̟̥̼̗̺͙͕̳̲̹ͧ̄̿͛ ̬̟̭̝̱̟̞͔͈̣̮͖̼̪̭̑ͧ̾̏̚D̩̦͙̼͙̮̭̝̙̰̥̂ͧ̃ͪͧE͔̻̰͖͈̣͙̱̘̜͍̣̪͙̮̖̜͙͐̐͋̿ͯ̍ͦͅĂ͕̮̫͖̹͙̺̣̳̹̘̖̻̠̲ͬ͌̔ͬͬͩ͗̂ͦL͕̟̙̫̝̗̖͕̭̞̟̍̓͌͛ͭ̔̚ ͕̩͔̠̬," Dipper roared, his hand bursting into searing flame. Powers reluctantly dipped his hand through the flame to shake Dipper's, and Dipper was at least able to take some satisfaction in the burn marks that dotted Powers' suit jacket where the flame had licked it. His deal fire couldn't hurt those who shook his hand, but at least this was close.
Trigger pulled the knife away from Mabel's throat, and she slumped forward. Dipper could see tears tracking down her face as she looked up at him, and the look of heartbreak on her face was almost unbearable. Dipper wanted to reach out to her, to reassure her it would be okay, to blow away the agents and destroy them so thoroughly it would be a thousand years before their souls came back, but—
"Don't you have a deal to fulfil, demon?" Powers demanded.
Reluctantly, Dipper complied.
It was a good thing he was a dream demon, gifted when it came to dealing with the mind, or Dipper feared that carrying out the deal, removing all memories of himself, would have driven his family insane. The rest of the world was easy enough—to those who had heard of him, he was usually just a name, possibly a few more facts or a memory of a summoning. It was hardly anything to pull all those connections out of people's brains.
But his family . . .
The thread of him was woven so intricately into their minds, twisting tightly against their most loved ones so closely that at times he feared that working himself out of the tangle would destroy something essential to them. Time wasn't exactly real in the Mindscape, and several hours' worth of work for Dipper was a fraction of a second to everyone else, as they forgot him in an instant, without even realizing.
Dipper had tried to fight the deal for as long as he could, struggling to find a loophole before it came to this, before he lost his handful of ties to humanity so totally, but there was none that he could see. Powers had been prepared for him, it seemed. Far more prepared than any other summoner had been. His wording was as close to airtight as a human's could be, and while Dipepr knew he'd be able to find a loophole in it, he wasn't sure he'd be able to find it in time for it to be useful. What worth would a way out be two hundred years in the future, when everyone he loved would already be—
"Don't think about it," he hissed to himself, tugging a loose thread of Dipper-memories from Willow's head. "You'll get out of this, you always have. You can do this. You won't lose them."
He had to tell himself this, had to hold his mind together well enough that he could find the loopholes even as his heart was crumbling to pieces.
The second summoning from Powers wasn't nearly as fancy as the first had been—a neat but plain chalk circle with a messy roadkill thrown into the middle.
It didn't have to be nice anymore. Powers had Dipper trapped in their deal, bound to his own will. Dipper had no choice but to show up, no matter how garbage the circle was.
Dipper didn't bother with a greeting this time. Powers didn't either.
"You've erased yourself," he said. It wasn't a question. He didn't need an answer.
"Your end of the deal isn't fulfilled yet," Powers said.
"Of course," Dipper spat. "I still have to undo the Transcendence, the biggest event on the face of the planet to ever happen."
Powers glared.
"My sources indicate that you were present for the Transcendence," Powers said. "Since you've got nothing else to do, I want to know what happened, what caused this."
"Sorry," Dipper singsonged. "Our deal didn't say anything about me providing you with information. If you want to know what I know, you're gonna have to make another deal." He flashed his fangs in a predatory grin.
"You ought to remember who you're dealing with, Dipper Pines," Powers spat. "Trigger and I are your only connections to the physical plane, and you will answer to us. Otherwise, I'm sure you may find us quite . . . disagreeable."
"Yeah, disagreeable," Trigger said, not-so-subtly resting a hand on the gun on his hip.
"As if that would hurt me!" Dipper gloated. "Go ahead and try, tough guy!"
"Now, who never said anything about using this on you?" Powers smirked. Dipper felt his face pale.
"It's in the deal that Mabel will live," Dipper hissed, his human appearance flaking away to show black bricks with brilliant gold light shining from between them. "If you kill her, the deal will be o͔͕̲̹̖̟̓ͨ͆̿̐̏f̰̹̦̜̔ͅf̯͎ͭͫͪ̽ͪ̀ͩ and I will take the greatest pleasure in ripping your ẉ͆̌ͬ̒̄̚e͈͓͉̲̘͕͌a͉̮͇̗̥̠̔͊ͣͦͪk̖̙ͣ ͉̰̾͆̾ͥͥ͒ͅh̝͑́̓͗̎̽ụ̣̊ͩ̐ͬͮ̅ͧm̺̻̖̩̑̏̄͋a͛͗̾̽̾n̞̭ͭ̊͂ ̜͙ͥ͐͂b̗̻̪̀͌͑͗ͬͧ̚oͩ̓̃̚d͔͕ͪͫͨ̒i̒̉e̝̩̮̙̣ͥ͑̑s̮̦̩͇̞̜̏̔̉̈́͐̊ͥ ̯̩̐a͔̬͔̟͌͑̊p̹ͫ͆̋̿ͪͬa͉͇͓͇̔ͭ̄̉̍r̖͚̄̆t ͍͖̤̳̩̘̘ͪ̅̈ͯ̔̔̽f͉͓̮̦͉͙̒o̯͖̹̪̽̊͂ͪ̎ͥ̒ŕ̆̆̍̆ ̫̳̞ͭ̏ͩt͉̜͔̝̩ͭ̍̃͛ͭḥ̲ͪ̋͂̓ͬ̀e̘̪̒̈̃͐̚ṋ̦̣̱̙͙͙̩͔̬̰̳͚̹͕̫̆͛̇̽̓̈́͆ͧ̅͐ͪe̤͈̠̰̥̜͉̝̭̯̻̹͎̻̦̋͊̎̔͋ͫ̈ͅẋ͇͓̣͉̠̗͙̃̋͂ͪ̈́̈̾ͨt͕̦͕͓̪̱͕̟̦̙͚͉͈̆ͭͨͧ͂͗ ̯͇̩͉͙̗̥̼ͪ̈ͨ̆̿̊̆̽ͦ̐ͨ̉̾͂̌̄̉ͅh̟̣̤̗̻̥̫̥̦͙̣ͭͣ͛̊̃̌ͭͫ͊̌͑ǔ̙͎͓̜͔̇͗̉̓͊̇ͣň̮͚̠͍̟͈͉̯̬̪̅̎͑ͦͅd̩̩̣̪͓̹̋͐ͮ̈̋̔̊ͦ͆̀̂̔̀͊̏͂r͔͇̻̲̞̲͚͖͔͙̠̮͕̯̪̦ͫ͛̏͐ͧ̊̎̔͗̊̏̓ͬ̚e̖̳̱̗̜͓̠̮̓̉̿͗̆͂ͣ̆̍͛̔̿͋̿̈͂͒͑d͔̫̘̘̳̱̽͌̐̉ͭ̐̑ ̻̻̫͈̯̺̗̭̝̬̲̜͔͈̪͔ͨ͐̋̌͐͊ͩ̽̃͊y̺̩̩̦͍̪̣̹̩̤̯͈̖̱͖̝̻̼͋̓͋̈ͫͪ̈́̇̋e̞̮͔̜ͨ͂̒ͦ̑ͦ̉͐ả̤̼͉̱̹͚͍̽ͮ̉̿ͥ͂ͯͨ̓ͯ̓̓̈̌̑ř͙̥̭̠̂̃ͤ̾̓̅̅̃̒s̬̖̬͚̲͔̺̤͇͔̞̱̺̹̗̃̌̽ͮ̀ͅ!"
"Oh, your sister will survive," Powers said, not even the slightest bit phased by Dipper's gradual transformation into his more demonic appearance. "But those children of hers? Your uncle? They weren't in the deal, now were they?"
"Definitely not, sir," Trigger answered. "We owe them no protection under our terms."
Dipper tried not to let his terror show on his face, but he could see it all too easily: Trigger, showing up at the triplet's school during recess, or after school let out, or even as they walked home from school. All it would take is a moment, a finger on the trigger, and one of his stars would be gone.
"An addition to our deal," Dipper choked out. "I will give you information in exchange for the protection of the triplets, and Henry, and Stan."
"You will offer us true information relevant to the questions we ask when we ask for it, and within the confines of what our human minds can handle," Powers countered. "In return, we will not intentionally harm Acacia, Willow, Hank, Henry, or Stan Pines."
It wasn't a good deal, but it was something he could do to keep the rest of his family safe, the only thing he could do.
"D̺̗͉͇͕͔͌́̇̅̾̒ͨͧë͓͚̭͛̅̉ả̻̹̞̲̗͎̼̮͙ͭͬͭ̓̐l̙̰̬͍̥̋ͨ̾," he hissed, and Powers took his flaming hand without hesitation.
There was something Mabel Pines was forgetting.
She looked down at her shopping list, having spaced out for a second. Eggs, milk, five pounds raw steak (that didn't seem right, unless Henry was planning ahead, but it was on sale so she rolled with it). A head of lettuce, some chocolate bars, two boxes of Frooty Loopers (the kids went through those fast, and so did . . .)
It seemed like there was something Mabel really ought to remember, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't quite reach it. It was like a word caught on the tip of her tongue, almost there but just far enough away to be unreachable.
Well, if it was that important, she'd remember it sooner or later.