A/N: Oh my gosh! Okay, I'm so sorry about me not posting anything lately, haha. There's really no excuse to not get you guys caught up because AO3 is on chapter 8. So, whoops, you guys can kick me in the ass whenever you want to. All warnings apply, suicide mentions (obviously, hah), violence, and such. Thanks for reviewing/following and I'll get better about replying to you guys once I start figuring out FFN (AO3 is so much simpler, ahhhhh)
Anyway, if you've got any questions, hit me up at .com, review, or PM me!
The school looks like a prison; gray and low to the ground.
Mabel dismisses it. School's always been at least a little fun, even on her worst days.
Today, of course, counts as one of her worst days. Her mother is dead, six feet under, kicked the bucket, all of those other little phrases that she can't stand anymore. She'll never see her again. Mabel almost crumbles on the spot.
But then Dipper's arm is sweeping under her own, wrapping her in for a hug before she can lose her resolve completely.
He's a lot better at comforting people than he gives himself credit for. He's also a lot stronger than she gives him credit for - a lot stronger than her, in a lot of different ways.
She's not afraid to admit that she buries her face into his shoulder. She needs a hug right about now.
"Text me," he says, breath rustling her hair. "If you - uh - need something."
Mabel chuckles. To people who don't know Dipper, it would have seemed like the endearingly sweet overprotective brother thing again. There's more to it than that though - he's got a heart, too, under his pride. It's as much of a lifeline for him as it is for her.
"No problemo, bro-bro," she says, releasing him. Dipper nods, gazing at her with watery eyes.
Oh, no, Mabel thinks. Don't go lost moose puppy on me. Please no. If you cry I cry. Come on Dippy Daisies.
She pulls off his hat - the same, sun-faded blue one he'd gotten from the Mystery Shack. "You can't wear this in school, you big dummy."
She punches his shoulder. She lets it hit his shoulder full-force. To his credit, Dipper doesn't wince - but he does stumble a bit, making Mabel grin.
Dipper grumbles. "What even is the point of that rule? If I want a hat, I should totally get a hat. It's my hat. It's my head."
"It's their school," Mabel says. She takes the lead and starts walking towards the building. If they stay out here much longer, they'll freeze their tooshes off, and Mabel likes her toosh, thank you very much.
"I do what I want," Dipper says.
Mabel giggles. "Oh, really now?"
"Absolutely," Dipper replies. "I, like, rule the world."
"I call executive of -"
"Glitter and small animals, I've got you covered," Dipper says. They're at the door now, and Mabel feels lurid fear crawl up her spine.
They'd decided to come in a nine o'clock instead of eight twenty-five, so they could see Grunkle Stan off. That, and neither of them were really looking forward to returning to school. They'd never had the best reputation among their peers; Dipper was too quiet and geeky, Mabel was too loud and too flamboyant. Too much here, not enough there.
Mabel had long since learned to live with it - after all, she was different, she was loud, she was weird; but these things didn't bother her. However, she'd never quite stopped leaping to Dipper's side. He never did anything. He was quiet, kept to himself, and only stood up when she was the one in question; he didn't deserve it.
Mabel sticks her tongue out at him. "I knew you had my back."
Dipper rubs the back of his neck. "About the -"
" - texting thing," Mabel says. "Got it. Don't worry about me, brozo. I got this." Mabel pulls a Rosie the Riveter pose. "I mean, look at these guns!"
Dipper laughs. "Alright, Wonder Woman."
Mabel's eyes widen and she gasps. "Yes! My true calling! I know what I'm going to college for, Dippy!"
"Oh, really? I can't go to college to be a Ghostbuster but you can be Wonder Woman?" Dipper says.
"Hello?"
Mabel jolts out of their conversation, turning to the dark-skinned woman at the desk.
"Are we checking in?" the woman asks.
"Oh! Uh, yeah," Dipper says, sheepishly. "Sorry."
"That's fine," the lady - Mrs. Golia - says. "I have a sister. I understand sibling banter."
Mabel chuckles, tersely. She wishes she didn't have to go to school. She wishes she could sit here and poke fun with her brother all day long and never have to worry about a thing.
But then there's Dipper's hand, warm as ever, in between her shoulder blades and gently nudging her to the sign-in counter.
"Names?" Mrs. Golia asks.
"Ah - uh, Dipper and Mabel Pines," Dipper says.
Mabel swallows around her dry throat. Fine, fine, she was going to be fine - she won't go home and see her mother and hug her, but she'll still love her, even if she isn't there to see. That's enough.
It will be. She just has to try. If she ever gets tired of trying, she's got Dipper to fall back on, because he's always there, waiting, just in case. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself.
School is no big deal. She's stared down monsters, zombies, demons, she even rode a pegasus once - she can do this.
"Oh!" Mrs. Golia says, and scribbles down their names on their respective passes. "I have something for the both of you, courtesy of my wife."
Mabel blinks.
Mrs. Golia leans down and pulls out two small packages. "She works at Godiva," she explains. "She made you gift baskets, on the house. She also told me to tell you that you can stop in for free ice cream whenever you'd like."
Mabel's cheeks flush. Not because she was embarrassed - just overwhelmed. It wasn't pity, just a helping hand, extended to the both of them when they needed it. Her eyes start to water.
"Oh my gosh," she gushes. "You're - you're both - tell her I said thank you, so, so much."
Dipper chuckles, taking his basket and pocketing it. "Thank you, Mrs. Golia."
Mrs. Golia gives them a warm smile. "It's not a problem. If you ever do need anything, don't be afraid to come to me."
Mabel nods. "Can-do will-do, Mrs. G!"
Mrs. Golia slides them their passes, and the twins are on their way.
Mabel pops a chocolate into her mouth.
"Sweet mercy," she says. "This is the bestest most incrediblest thing I have ever tasted."
She looks over - Dipper was already on his third. "Jeeze! Dipster, didn't we just eat breakfast?"
He glares at her and pops a fourth truffle into his mouth. "I am a growing boy, thank you very much."
"Who just ate, like, eight pancakes. Seriously. You took my chocolate ones!"
Dipper shrugs. "Get downstairs faster next time."
"I'm feeling a little competition here," she says. She jabs a thumb at her chest. "I am Queen Sugarspice. You are a Twizzler-loving traitor."
"Twizzlers are the bomb," he says. "Fight me."
"Oh, you wanna go?" she threatens, raising a fist. "You wanna throw down?"
Dipper grins. "Totally, right here, right now."
"Oh, it's on, Twinkletoes -"
Dipper darts in and jabs her side, causing Mabel to buck. "No! Tickle spots are off limits!"
"Not in this reality!" He replies, darting in for another two-faced attack.
"I substitute your reality with my own!" she shouts, and cracks their heads together.
Not the best idea. Dipper stumbles backwards and she has to hold on to the wall to keep from falling down. That was way easier when they were twelve.
"That was a much better idea when we were twelve," Dipper says, voicing her thoughts.
"My reality sucks," she moans. "I give up. You win, you back-stabbing, jerky-turkey."
Dipper sticks his tongue out at her, and then unravels his chocolate bar and takes a bite.
Mabel rubs her forehead. "I demand a rematch after school."
"Meet me in the pit," Dipper says, taking another bite.
Mabel fishes out her packet and pulls out the raspberry-filled one. "Here."
Dipper eyes it suspiciously. "Are you sure?"
"Of course!" she says. "You know how I feel about raspberry filling and chocolate."
"'It's a disgusting affront to humanity and you're going to abolish it when you're president'," he quotes, pocketing the candy bar.
"Hells yeah," she says.
They'd walked deep into the center of the school, and were turning down the English hall.
"Ready to brave Mr. Beaton?" she asks.
Dipper sighs. "Don't remind me."
Mabel grins. "He luuuuuuurves me, though."
"Ugh," Dipper groans, and they open the door to an analysis of Jane Eyre.
That's how the majority of their day went.
Mabel and Dipper were lucky enough to have three of their four classes together, but they were split apart after third. Mabel was to attend Cosmetics and Dipper was dragged off to a science class halfway across the school.
The cosmetics room wafts a scent of honey and hairspray on most days, courtesy of Ms. Beckley's taste in Scentsy. The lights were overly bright, which didn't help make the ghastly, pale yellow walls any nicer to look at. The desks were covered in an assortment of lewd drawings and curses written in every color of pen under the sun. The practice dolls - which looked disturbingly like decapitated heads - were typically strewn about the room, giving it a cluttered and claustrophobic feeling.
That's not what she hates about this place; it's the pale-skinned girl with the furious red hair. As soon as she walks in through the door, Mabel knows that she's in for an hour and thirty minutes of hell.
"Oh, look," Melanie Wright, her table partner, sneers. "She dared to show her face today."
Mabel swallows down her bitterness and replaces it with a beaming smile. "Hello!"
Melanie wrinkles her nose. "Yeah, freak. So? What happened to Mommy Dearest last week?"
Mabel flinches, and Melanie's grin turns nasty. "What, don't want to fill us in?"
She's not this cruel, really, Mabel thinks. It's a joke. She'll stop.
Marco, one of Melanie's cronies, speaks up. "C'mon, sweetcheeks, tell us about that juicy gossip."
Mabel sits down hesitantly. It takes a couple of swallows to find her voice. "There's nothing much to say."
"Do it quick, while MacBeth is out of the room. No batty teacher over your shoulders," Giani says, from the seat directly behind Mabel.
"My dad said she had triangles carved into her arms," Melanie says. Of course, Mabel thinks. Her dad's an EMT.
Mabel is dimly aware that she's shaking. She pulls out Mrs. Golia's gift. "Chocolate?" she offers, weakly. Please, leave me alone.
Melanie snatches the whole bag out of her hand. "Thanks for the donation."
"Ooh - any with raspberry filling?" Marco asks, pulling the bag from Melanie's grasp. "Ah, what! It's not a gift bag without raspberry filling!"
Mabel grins to herself, victorious. She's suddenly viciously glad that she'd given the raspberry bar to Dipper earlier.
Giani slaps him in the back of the head.
"Give me all the gorey deets," Melanie says. "I'm just curious, y'know. Can't even blame me. I'm gonna be a psychologist."
That's not why you're asking, Mabel thinks, but she doesn't voice anything. Keep the smile. Keep the smile.
"Yeah," Marco says. "What's with the triangles, anyway? Why not ovals? Those are rad as heck."
"... The definition of oval is literally 'it's kinda egg-shaped.'"
"Shut it, Gi."
Melanie leans close enough for Mabel to catch a whiff of her strawberry-scented breath. "Why'd she commit, though? Didn't she have, like, the perfect life?"
"Please, stop asking," Mabel says. "I really don't want to talk about it."
She's got to be joking, Mabel thinks. People don't do this. People can't possibly be this bad. I didn't do anything to them. They'll stop.
"Yeah, Mels," Giani says, her tone joking. "You're being nosy."
"Oh, dear me," Melanie says. "And stop interrupting me! I've still got psych class. I can do my thesis on this."
"Don't," Mabel snaps.
Melanie leans in close, this time, and whispers, "I heard your brother was covered in blood."
Mabel freezes.
"Stop!" Mabel shouts. "I told you to stop!"
Melanie jerks back, but keeps smiling that damned smile. "So, that's what presses your buttons? Your brother? Do you even care about your mom?"
Mabel feels tears spring to her eyes.
"Mels," Giani says. "I'm being serious. Not cool."
"Y-yeah," Marco says, shaky. "Back off."
"You think she killed herself because of you?" Melanie says, and something in Mabel snaps.
"You know what?" she growls. "You're damn right it's not cool. It wasn't cool to begin with." She turns to Melanie. "And you - you -"
"... I'm right, aren't I?" Melanie says, eyes gleaming. "I'm totally right. Oh, this is gold."
Mabel stands there, unaware of when she had actually stood up. Her mouth opens and closes like a fish. She's trembling and sweaty all over and incredibly aware of the stares that prickle against her skin like tiny needles.
Mabel doesn't waste any time. She turns on her heel and storms off, flustered and embarrassed and three seconds from bursting into tears.
"Witch!" Melanie calls after her.
On her way out, she crashes into Ms. Beckley, who was often dubbed MacBeth by her students for her strange love of Shakespeare. The short, thin teacher collapses to the ground.
"Ms. Pines!? What on Earth -"
"I'm sorry," Mabel says, choking around her tears. "I didn't mean to - my mom - I've gotta. I've gotta go, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
"Ms. Pines!" Ms. Beckley snaps. "What do you think you're -"
Mabel had already taken off down the hall, the wind stinging her wet cheeks. "I'm sorry, Ms. Beckley!" she shouts.
Mabel runs away from that horrible classroom until she's reached the girl's bathroom in the lobby, which she ducks into immediately. ('Ducked' wasn't even an exaggeration. They didn't make doors tall enough.)
She leans down to get a look at herself in the grimy mirror. Her tears have streaked the makeup she'd been wearing, and she rubs a sweater sleeve over it self-consciously. At least she hadn't seen anyone in the hallway.
Her hair is its usual, cascading, wavy fluff of dark brown hair that framed a blotchy red face that framed big, red eyes. There wasn't any fixing that; once she'd started crying, the redness of her eyes wouldn't fade for a good four hours.
She would have to go back there soon. Someone from the office would be sent to search for her, and she'd be subjected to a harsh punishment for ditching.
Mabel finds herself not wanting to go back. She doesn't want to be here. Nobody could have asked her to be ready for that, and it isn't fair to herself to think that she should've been.
She pulls out her phone and texts Dipper.
'rough cosmo class. :('
She settles herself against the wall of the girls' bathroom, slowing her breathing and replaying the scene in her mind. The more she did, the less she liked herself.
It didn't take long for Dipper to respond.
'You can leave if you need to.'
God, it was like he knew what she was thinking, even when he was all the way across the school!
'i was thinking about it, lol'
Dipper replies almost immediately.
'I can skip class.'
'don't. jackson'll get angry at you'
'Well, fuck Jackson. You're more important.'
Mabel grins at the phone - but then remembers what Melanie had said. He was the one covered in blood that night - their mother's blood. A stone settles in her stomach. She doesn't want to ask, of course. She doesn't want to think about anyone being covered in blood, much less her brother. But it's something she never thought about, it's something she never considered; she owes it to him to ask, whether he wants to talk about it or not.
'dipper?'
'Yeah?'
'does it ever bother you?'
'What does/'
'*?'
Mabel stares at her phone for a while. Maybe it was a little personal. Should she even ask?
'remember how melanie's dad is an emt?'
'Yeah..?'
'she told me that he said that you were'
Mabel stopped typing, but then mentally slapped herself. This was Dipper. There wasn't anything she couldn't talk to him about.
She finishes the text and sends it.
In the pause that follows, she can feel Dipper thinking about her question, mulling it over in his big, dumb brain. She wonders if she's just hit on something, some facet to the problem that she hadn't encountered before.
'It did, I guess. I mean - I didn't realize it? But I remember the feeling. It - it doesn't creep me out NOW, even though i know that, ostensibly, it's totally creepy. I don't know what to say. Did that even make sense? I don't know.'
'i got what you meant :) around the big fancy words, lmfao. u can figure out what to say and talk to me about it later'
She worries her lip, and then begins to type.
'i'm busting out of here :D totally getting redbox movies and i call a movie night'
'You sure you don't need me?'
'pffft i am wonder woman i got this ;) now u go do ur big dumb brainy thing and u show jackson who's the real boss'
'Yeah, right.'
'... you think g would let me out'
'Totally. She thinks you're great.'
'IM GOING OUT THE FRONT DOOR'
'Uh, seriously? Sure you don't want to use the one beside the cafeteria?'
'i am a boss this is not how we do things dipshit'
And with that, Mabel pockets her phone. She realizes that she'd left most of her things in Ms. Beckley's room, but she'd just go back and collect them before class tomorrow. She had a habit of just carrying around her bookbag instead of stopping by her locker - it was faster, anyway.
At least, though, her keys are in her purse, which was still fastened firmly across her chest. Then another problem occurs to her, and she pulls out her phone.
'... can i take our car?'
'Go for it.'
Oh, man. She really had a great brother.
'i'll pick you up totes mcgotes'
'Don't worry about it. But that'd be nice. Just saying.'
'i got u i got u'
Mabel slides her Android into her back pocket, and leaves the bathroom.
Getting out of school was easy, but this wasn't.
She'd had a faint idea of where she was going when Mrs. Golia had agreed to sneak her out, but now that it's coming to fruition, she's sure she isn't actually ready.
She tightens her grip on the flowers in her hand; her palms _ sweaty, and the slick plastic threatening to slide out of her hand. She'd only bought three roses - a blue one, a pink one, and a red one.
The walk to her mother's grave was harder than expected. She wished Grunkle Stan hadn't left town that morning. She wished she'd told Dipper to ditch with her.
But Melanie's words rang in her head, and she knew; she had to do this alone. This was her apology. She wasn't going to lean on anyone, she wasn't going to use someone else's courage.
She had this. Totally.
When she arrives at the top of the hill, she finds her eyes wandering over her mother's headstone. There is an angel carved into it, flowy robes and wings spread wide. The setting sun, far in the west, cast long, navy blue shadows over the angel's features, making the guardian look more compelling - more grim.
Mabel carefully sets the roses in the angel's waiting arms, slipping them out of the plastic.
Then, she sits down on her knees, facing the headstone like it was her mother, a real, live living thing that could hug her and love her and care about her. Tears flow out of her eyes, but she doesn't dare to stop them.
"Hi, mom," she says. "I know - whatever you're doing right now - you must be pretty busy, with all that afterlife stuff. I get it. But I… I wondered if you were watching, earlier today. I don't know how you'd do that. Maybe there's a magic looking glass."
She sighs. "I'm sorry, for - for what I didn't do. What I didn't see. It's not my fault, I know - but. Maybe I could've helped. Who knows?" She stops, hiccuping. "M-maybe you'd be alive now! I don't know what I'm saying, or if you can hear me, or…"
She trails off. She lifts a finger, shaky and pale, and begins to trace her mother's name, carved into the headstone; Marcella Arizi Mariolo-Pines.
"I wasn't - I wasn't ready to lose you," Mabel whispers. Her heart stops beating.
She throws herself against the cold headstone, thoughts racing like a tempest, heart thrumming and thrumming, palpitating against her sternum like a racehorse. Mabel's eyes squeezed shut, hot, salty liquid leaking out and running down her nose and she felt gross and ugly but she didn't care.
She wanted her mom. She wanted her back, would give anything to crush her slim figure into a hug and be able to tell her how much she loved her -
"I wasn't ready to lose you."
Mabel's eyes snap open. She flew backward, backpedaling as fast as she could.
The ghost chuckles. "Sorry, honey, it's a little hard to manifest with roses. Orchids are easier, I believe, but I haven't had the experience to know for sure."
A/N: DAH DAH DAHHHHH... the ending everyone expected. HAH. Alright, what'd you guys think?