This is a companion to my Walk the Line fic, so please, if you are clicking into this story for the first time, read that first or none of this will make sense!

Also, if you have read Walk the Line, I am currently in the process of changing Stanley to Grunkle Stan, and Stanford to Author Stan, so these AU's and Oneshots will all refer to Author Stan as Stanford.

Chapters will usually vary from 1,000 - 2,000 words.

Setting: The chapter the scene takes place within.

Characters: Major characters within the chapter.

P.O.V?: Who's point of view the chapter is in.

AU?: Is the story compliant with the Walk the Line universe?

Chapter Type: What type of chapter is it? (e.g. Angst, Hurt/Comfort etc.)

Feel free to follow me at FilthyMallards on Tumblr! If you send me a headcannon, I'll write up a quick fic for it! (Though if I am already typing it up as a chapter for , I will say so!)

Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls.

Setting: Post Epilogue

Characters: Mabel

P.O.V?: Mabel

AU?: No. Set firmly within the context of the WtL universe.

Chapter Type: Angst (Sorta kinda family?)

It was warm, under the blankets - a cocoon of warmth that embraced every muscle and bone within her body. Too good to leave - perfect and warm and cozy.

And an incessant hand kept trying to tug them off of her.

"Mom! Mooom! Mommy? Mom? Mom, Mom, Mom!"

Mabel let out a loud groan, and the hand started tugging hard. When she curled up tighter, feet gave her a sharp kick as they scrambled up onto the bed. Not even a moment later, she was being hit on the head by a squealing child that didn't seem to understand the concept of sleep.

"Mooooom! Mommy!"

"Baby, shhhh. Mommy's sleeping," she slurred, slowly opening an eye. All she could see was the dark blue of her duvet.

"No! You lie! Mommy, up time! Up time, Mommy!"

The bed started to jolt as her son started to jump up and down, squealing and laughing.

Grumbling, Mabel pulled herself up, and emerged from within her chrysalis - though a butterfly was by no means anywhere to be found. She tugged a hand through her knotted haired, untangling the birds nest as best she could before giving up and running her hand down her face.

Ah. I'm gonna need a shower.

"Mabel, sweetheart, you're going to have to give him some attention. He has something to give you."

Her head turned to the doorway where her husband stood with a tray of pancakes and coffee, smiling a kind, pleasant smile. She hadn't noticed him get out of bed - usually he was snoring, completely dead to the world, when she woke up.

"You must be some kind of god," she stated as he sat the tray down on the bedside table, sitting next to her.

"Boop," she said, pushing his wire glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Boop!" Her son yelled, falling onto her lap with a laugh. He waved two little hands in the air, one of them clutching a small present, wrapped neatly in hot pink wrapping paper, with a fluorescent green bow to match.

She let out an overly loud gasp of surprise that seemed to please the brown haired child. "And what on earth do you have in your hand, you little rapscallion?!" She wondered as he sat up, holding the gift out to her.

"Happy birthday!" He squealed, waving it in her face before dropping it.

"For me? Aw, Bub, you shouldn't have!" She held the box up to her face, eyeing it carefully, before grinning and tearing it open.

A little box, like the one her husband had presented her engagement ring in when he'd proposed to her. She carefully pulled open the lid, hearing herself let out a soft laugh when she saw the plain silver ring, with their wedding vows etched into it.

"You gigantic dork. This is beautiful," she scolded her husband. He gave her a lopsided smile as she slipped the ring on her middle finger, next to the finger adorned with a simple gold band. She ruffled her son's hair, and he laughed. "And you, Mr. Munchkin. My knight in shining armor. Thank you very much for your kind deed, ever so much!"

"I'M KING ARTHUR!" He shouted, kissing his mother cheeks and then jumping off the bed, hand raised as if he was carrying a sword as he raced out of the room.

Mabel looked at her husband, who just laughed softly as their son vanished out the door.

"Seriously, though. It's absolutely beautiful. Thank you...for making this." Her voice was soft as she spoke, and she spun the ring around her finger, smiling.

"We'll be away for the day. I'm taking 'King Arthur' over here to the zoo, and then the movies. We'll be back by about four. Is that okay?" He asked as he took her hands, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles.

"You truly are a superhero," she murmured. They pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss before he stood up.

"Text me if you need any longer, okay?"

"Okay. Love you."

"Love you too, Mabel." He left the room, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.

Then, there was silence - save for the ticking of the clock that was soft, yet unbearable in the stillness. She looked at the food on the bedside table, grabbing the tray and placing it carefully on her lap.

Mostly she toyed with her meal, pushing the pancakes around the plate and occasionally sipping her hot chocolate. She channel surfed for a while, turning the volume down when she heard the car engine start up and pull out of the driveway. When she caught sight of the black vehicle taking off down the street, she flicked the TV off, set the tray back on the table, and slid out of bed.

Today, she allowed herself to mourn. Today, she allowed a years worth of pent up grief and anger and sadness loose.

Every other day, she was Mabel; just-turned-twenty-five year old fashion mogul; wife and mother.

But today was different.

Today, she was Mabel; thirteen year old sweater wearing teen; sister and griever.

And that was okay.

One day - that was all she needed. Maybe it was a little odd, choosing her birthday of all days to feel like...this, but what else was she supposed to do?

It wasn't like she could phone him, or drop by for a visit.

So this day - their day, was the most she could think to give her brother in recompense for the sacrifices he made.

Mabel grabbed her robe, pulling it on over her shoulders and tying the belt. Stuffing her feet into a pair of slippers, she padded quietly over to the closet and pulled it open.

Inside sat an innocent brown box.

Bending down, Mabel pulled it towards her, pushing open the clasp and lifting the lid.

As soon as she saw the contents, her stomach clenched, and her throat tightened, for inside was a small, tattered notebook, and a dirty pine tree hat.

It was all that she'd dared to keep of his belongings.

Mabel let out a slow breath of air, sitting down and crossing her legs beneath her as she took out the cap and book.

She didn't like to relive her memories of receiving the gift. It was...bittersweet to say the least. On one hand, some very nice fairies had presented them to her on her arrival to Gravity Falls, several years prior, and claiming that they were to be gifted to her.

But on the other...

Well.

There was definitely more bitter than sweet, at any rate.

Mabel pulled the cap on backwards, the bill of the truckers hat at the back of her head, and then picked up the notebook. Her hands - rough and scarred from needle pricks and sewing mishaps - were gentle and kind to the torn up book.

Flipping it open every so gently, running her fingers down the spine, she looked at the first page.

'Journal 1 - Dipper Pines,' it said, emblazoned with a pine tree beneath it. She flipped past the few pages written about fairies and trolls, stopping instead on the symbols drawn in thereafter.

A wheel with Bill in the centre, and several different pictograms drawn around him. Across the that, there was a drawing of each image, with a single name beside it.

'Shooting Star - Mabel Pines.

Pine Tree - Me.'

She recognised the symbols for what they were.

She recognised them as pure evil.

When she had first received the book, the first thing she had planned on doing was finding out just how to cast a spell, and then summoning the hell out of Bill - because she just knew that wherever Bill went, her brother was sure to follow.

But she had quickly squashed that thought into non-existence, because what if only Bill came back? What if it didn't even work? What if she screwed up and brought upon the apocalypse? What if she nulled her brother's sacrifice, and messed everything up? What if he wasn't the same?

Mabel gave herself a shake, flipping to the next pages. It was here that the tone of the pages changed abruptly - the pages scarred with a star's teardrops, and imbued with a fierce tone of sorrow.

The writing was swift, tight, and neat - written in spidery cursive like scars on skin.

Her brothers, yet not.

'Mabel. If you're reading this, I'm going to assume you're older now - at least eighteen, if the fae have done as I asked. You must hate me, at least somewhat. You can't begin to imagine how much I love you, and how proud I am of you. You're so strong - stronger than I could ever be, and you're going to do so much. You really are a shooting star, burning brighter than all the rest.'

Mabel cleared her throat. It was always that part that got her started, that got the tears flowing. It was just like her doofus of a brother.

'I haven't a clue what will happen to me, to be honest. It's really quite sad, not to know ones own future, when one knows so many. But I will survive, and live on, because I know that you are, too. Time will be strange within the dimension - I don't know how long forever will be, but I am sure it will stretch on long after you are dead.

But I'm getting distracted, aren't I? Knowing lots of things does that, you see. It feels like those little wooden toys we used to play with when we were younger, the ones with the slots for the correct shapes - you know the ones.'

Of course she did. She remembered trying to shove the circle through the square.

'Well, it's like there are all these holes into my skull, and the knowledge is squeezing itself into my brain. I hope that makes sense to you.

Mabel. Do me favor.

Don't try to obtain the unattainability of knowledge.

All it will do is drive you into insanity.

I don't have a lot of time to write this. But please, please, just remember to keep your head up. To live on. To shoot high into the sky and let everyone see just how bright you are. Remember that no matter how far away I am, I'll always be looking out for you. Remember just how much I love you, Mabes. You're the best sister I could have ever hoped for.'

Mabel let out a little sniffle, looking skywards in an attempt to not cry.

"You big dumb dumb," she said softly, shaking her head as she rubbed furiously at her eyes.

Pulling herself up and hugging the book close to her chest, Mabel walked out of the bedroom and down the long hallway, looking at the photos on the walls.

Photos of herself, of her husband, and of her son adorned the walls. Photos of days at the beach, on holiday, and just sitting at home. She stopped for a moment to look at the framed photo of Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford, her smile sad but fond, before taking the photo beside it off of the wall.

She only had one photo of her brother in the house - a photo they'd taken just before they'd returned to Gravity Falls that summer all those years ago. From what she could see of the background, she could tell they were on the bus. She was holding up the camera, a gigantic grin on her face, and she could just see the sweater she was wearing in the image. She recognized it as one of her Waddles-dedicated sweaters.

Beside her sat Dipper, smiling that strained smile he always put on when he got caught in photographs, his eyes cast in the direction of the window, and the bags under his eyes ever present.

Mabel hugged the photo to her chest, clutching both book and frame so tight her knuckles went white. Pressing her back against the wall and sliding to the ground, she considered that shower again.

Ah, screw it.

It wasn't like she had anywhere to go, anyway. She never took appointments today, and her whole company knew it. Last time someone had tried to get her to come in to see a new design for one of the fall collections, she'd fired them on the spot (of course, she'd hired them back afterwards, but that didn't make the situation any better).

She sighed softly, breath feather light.

Moving on was hard.

Moving on...it was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do - and she knew it was never something she would do in its entirety, because moving on completely meant forgetting, and forgetting meant disregarding her brother's last, final wish.

And she was okay with that. With her one day of pain, amongst the 364 others. (Leap years be damned!)

She was okay, knowing her brother was watching her, wherever he was. It was comforting knowing that after all of this time, through the pleasure and the pain, the breakups and makeups, he was there.

She was okay. Just okay.

And honestly? She was fine with just being that.

Thank you for reading - feel free to send a request for a chapter, and I'll make sure to write it!

This was requested some time ago, and I have FINALLY FINISHED IT.

The next chapter up will be an AU event (how it is AU will be explained in the chapter).