I am on a serious Ford and Mabel fluff kick, because there is just so little of it in this fandom. I figure the only way to get what I want is to write it myself, and hope others will jump on the bandwagon...
Anyway, I hope you like it.
UPDATE AN: So, it was pointed out that this bears a resemblance to another fic published recently, and I found the one (and favorited it, actually, because it is excellent), and it does resemble the story. I don't know what happened last night, but it appears the same muse struck myself and the author of this similar story; I wrote most of this last night at about 2 a.m., and based some of the dialogue and much of the immediate reaction to the type of self-harm depicted here in this on interactions between myself and a dear friend from a few years ago when he discovered I was doing to myself what Mabel does to herself in this story.
As for Stanford's thoughts; I really don't know. I just figured Ford would be reluctant to admit defeat to his brother. Accurate characterization is such fun...
AnimationNut, I do apologize for any thoughts of plagiarism. I assure you, none of this was intentional.
Mabel jolted awake, breathing heavily as she shot up in bed, clutching her chest. Her chest ached and she felt sick before she realized it had all been a nightmare and she buried her face in her hands, starting to sob.
"Mabel, you almost killed us all!"
The words her twin brother had shouted at her in her dream rang in her head and she clapped her hands over her ears, trying to drown it out.
"I can't believe you betrayed me!"
She looked to her right, to the bed where her brother was sleeping soundly with Journal 3 tucked under his arm, snoring softly.
And it had gotten worse from there. Things had been okay for a while, but the events of her adventures today were getting to her now too.
"You'll never be pure of heart!"
Another sob slipped out. Mabel supposed a part of her had known that, but she hadn't wanted to believe it. She had betrayed Dipper. She had eagerly participated in the mind control of both Soos and Grunkle Stan. She wasn't a good person anymore, and she couldn't hide from it any longer.
"It's not my fault you're a bad person."
She couldn't take it. The horrible echoes in her mind were going to make her insane for real. She just wanted to make them stop. To stop feeling so terrible all the time. She wanted to be punished for her crimes.
Maybe that would make it stop.
Ford was lying on the couch in his old bedroom – where his bed had gone, the higher powers only knew – fighting with himself over whether he should sleep or not. On the one hand, he was so exhausted he was already falling asleep in random places without meaning to. On the other hand, there was Bill to worry about.
He heard the creak of the stair boards and the soft gait of someone tiptoeing across the hall into the kitchen. He figured it was one of the kids up to get a quick glass of water. They'd probably be tiptoeing back upstairs in a minute.
But a few minutes later when he still didn't hear the creak of floorboards, he got up from his couch, rubbing his neck, and went into the hall to go see which of the kids was up and why they were taking so long.
He froze when he heard the muffled sobbing coming from the kitchen, followed by a brief, tiny flicker of light that lasted only a few seconds. Oh, no.
He hurried to the kitchen and stood in the doorframe, taking in the scene before him. Mabel gasped and looked up at her great uncle from where she was curled up on the floor, trying frantically to hide the box of matches she'd had out by shoving them into a drawer. Four black, shriveled and still faintly smoking ones were littered about her feet. She was holding her left arm close to her body.
"Gr-Great Uncle Ford," Mabel choked out, wiping at the tears staining her cheeks. She was pale as a sheet with the fear of being found out for what she had been doing. "What are you doing up?"
He didn't reply, approaching her slowly and crouching down next to his niece. He took her right hand and pulled her to her feet, leading her wordlessly to the sink and turning on the faucet. He directed her burned arm under the stream of water and held it there. "Tell me when it stops hurting so much," he ordered quietly.
Mabel could do nothing but obey. Crying softly, she waited, watching the water flow over the burn marks she'd made in her skin, and after a few minutes when the pain had dulled she whispered, "It's better now."
Ford removed her arm from the stream but still kept a hold of it, grapping for a towel with his free hand and wetting it. He pressed it against Mabel's burns and held it there with constant pressure, pulling her towards the kitchen table and sitting her down, refusing to release her arm. She was shaking now, trying to imagine what Ford was going to do. He seemed mad. She couldn't believe she'd been so careless. She should have waited until she was certain everyone was asleep.
But then, it was three in the morning.
Ford sat down opposite her, continuing to hold the towel to her arm. He stared at his niece, his mind going in several different directions. He had to say something, didn't he? But what? What could he say to a child in such distress that she'd reduced to burning herself?
What confused him even more was that Mabel didn't seem like the sort of person who would do this. He hadn't spent a lot of time with her, so he couldn't be absolutely certain, but she had been so bubbly and happy he couldn't have ever imagined he'd find her pressing lit matches into her skin.
He briefly considered getting Stanley to deal with this, because surely his brother knew her well enough to know something about this behavior, but then his stubborn side kicked in. He could handle this on his own. "So," he said stiffly, searching for the right words that wouldn't sound very judgmental. He feared he was going to fail. "Do you want to tell me what's going on?"
Mabel sniffled, trying desperately to think of an explanation but finding none. There simply wasn't a good excuse for burning herself the way she had been, especially not at three in the morning. "I… I…." she stammered out, but there were no words. She had nothing to say in her defense.
Ford sighed, holding his head. He was no good at this. "I know we haven't… we haven't talked a lot. But you can trust me, Mabel. You know that, right?"
Mabel stared at him. This from the man whose biggest instruction in his journals is "Trust no one," she thought, a little spitefully. Dipper had been mumbling those three words in his sleep for days. She was worried about him.
But even so, she did trust him. She had seen Great Uncle Ford protect Dipper from harm when those nerd game characters had come to life and she expected that if she had been trapped in that situation he would have done the same for her. So she let out a long breath, surrendering. "I just want it to stop," she whispered.
"You want what to stop?" Ford pressed, his concern growing.
She swallowed back the lump in her throat. Fresh tears were burning at her eyes. "I have these horrible dreams. All the time, ever since the portal…" She choked on a sob she was trying desperately to contain. "I just want to be a good person, but… it's too late. I lost it. I'm not good anymore. I'm awful."
She broke down, starting to cry again. Ford's mouth pressed into a tight line. He didn't like seeing her like this, so… so destroyed. So hopeless. He liked her usual quirky, enthusiastic self. "Hey, it's alright," he tried to console her, awkwardly patting her shoulder. "What makes you think you're not a good person?"
Her response was a tearful, jumbled mess. She took a deep breath, aware her answer had been lost beneath sobs. "The unicorn," she managed to tell him after a few moments of regaining enough of her composure to speak coherently. "She was lying when she said she could see I was a bad person, but she wasn't wrong. I am a bad person."
"You're not a bad person," Ford said firmly.
"I am!" Mabel bawled, shaking her head. "I am! I betrayed Dipper! He trusted me, and… and I betrayed him! I could have killed everyone! I could have destroyed the whole world!"
She wasn't wrong, but Ford certainly wasn't about to say so. They were all very lucky his brother had reconstructed the portal accurately, and that the damage it caused had been so minimum. It still would have been better, on a cosmic scale, if Mabel had pressed the button. But just because she had placed her trust in someone she loved and let it go, risking her life and those of everyone on earth, didn't make her a terrible person. A bit naïve, maybe. But not bad.
"And then when Grunkle Stan was running for mayor, I mind controlled him. I didn't even think about it! I even did it to Soos, and I thought it was funny, but it wasn't! He didn't like it. It hurt him. But I did it anyway…"
Ford flinched. He supposed that one was partially his fault. Maybe he shouldn't have given two children his mind-control device. He probably shouldn't have given two children his mind-control device.
"I don't know who I am anymore," Mabel cried. "I used to be sweet and good. It was who I was. I used to like myself. But all of that… it's just gone." She covered her face with the hand that wasn't still being held by her uncle, trembling violently. How was she still crying? Shouldn't she be out of tears by now? "I don't know what else to do," she whispered. "I just wanted to think about something different for a while… I just wanted everything to stop."
"Hey," Ford said, reaching for the hand covering her face and pulling it away. "Mabel, I need you to listen to me. This isn't the way to handle things."
She sniffled. "I… I know."
He sighed. This talk was taking a lot more out of him than he thought it would, and it wasn't close to being over. He had to make her see sense, somehow.
Mabel grew unnerved in the silence, and began feeling sick as a thought occurred to her. "Are you going to tell Grunkle Stan?" she whimpered, fearing what he would do if he learned she'd been self-harming.
Ford let out a small groan. "I won't tell Stanley about this, but only if you promise me this won't happen again."
That was a small comfort. "I promise."
Ford finally released her arm and leaned back in his chair. "Mabel, tell me something. Did you apologize for the things you're worried about? To Dipper, and Stanley? To Soos?"
"Well… yeah," Mabel replied, rubbing at her eyes.
"Did they forgive you?"
She nodded.
"They don't think you're a bad person, do they?" Ford asked, finally getting an idea of how to reassure his niece properly.
"I… I don't… no," Mabel finally sighed, staring down at the table. "They don't."
A smile twitched at Ford's lips. "There you have it, then. Mabel, everyone makes mistakes. It's only human. But what makes us good or bad is if we feel remorse for our mistakes and move on from them. I know you're a good person," he said firmly, smiling across the table at his niece. "You care about the people in your life. You care so much that hurting them makes you want to punish yourself. You'd be a bad person if you felt no regret, and made no efforts to correct your mistakes. But I've seen you firsthand thinking about the people you love, trying to be the best you can be."
Mabel started crying again, but this time for different reasons.
Ford pushed out his chair and knelt in front of his niece, making sure she her gaze was on his. "Now tell me," he said softly. "Do you still think you're a bad person?"
She let out a small sob and shook her head. Ford even thought he saw the beginnings of a smile on her lips.
"Now, let me see your arm," he requested, and she held it out to him. He removed the towel and examined the burn marks. "They look better," he remarked. "How do they feel?"
Mabel shrugged her small shoulders. "They hurt, but not as much."
Ford sighed and stood up, pulling Mabel's chair out for her. "Come on," he instructed. "Let's get some band aids on those marks and get you back to bed. We'll both be in trouble if Stanley catches us out here."
Mabel nodded once before hugging him, which Ford had not been expecting. "Thank you," she whispered.
It had been a long time since he'd been hugged. He wondered if he even remembered how to return one. He awkwardly knelt down and wrapped his arms around her. "You know, you're going to be just fine, Mabel," he said reassuringly. This hug was feeling a bit better by the second. "Just fine."