Chapter 4 is brought to you by spring break. Yay for vacations.

Tolerating No Rivals

Chapter 4

A special sort of monster

Dipper stood under the stream of water that was so hot it was nearly scalding. He preferred his showers that way: it felt like he was burning the weakness from his body, but this time the heat of the water served a second purpose: to distract himself from Mabel's rejection.

It wasn't working. Every time he closed his eyes he saw that look of sadness and regret in Mabel's soulful, brown eyes and her voice would ring in his ears. Soft spoken words of rejection, because she has a boyfriend. As if that half human could ever deserve that title.

Steam was filling the bathroom, and Dipper's skin was beginning to slightly redden from the heat of a water, yet still he continued to stand there glaring at the wall. Dipper felt his sorrow transform to anger: it always did. It had been years since he had been able to feel sadness without it mingling with some form rage.

"I hate him so much," Dipper punctuated the statement by slamming the side of his fist into the tiled wall. Dipper squeezed his eyes shut and focused on his breathing in an attempt to calm himself. Sometimes is worked. Other times it didn't. This time it failed miserably.

"That fucking merman! He'll pay for this," Dipper scowled.

Mermando is not the only one to blame for this. A treacherous corner of Dipper's mind whispered to him.

Dipper's breath came out in short gasps. "No, no. It's the freak's fault."

That's rich: calling Mermando a freak. Look in the mirror.

"Mermando's the freak, not me!" Dipper whisper screamed.

Deny it as much as you like, but you already know the truth: Mabel wasn't ready for your affections and you forced them upon her anyway.

"That's not true. Mabel was responding to me: I would never force her to do anything!" Dipper tried to counter his own mutinous mind.

Bullshit. Mabel was smiling after Mermando kissed her. That is what real love looks like: Mabel smiling. Need I remind you what she looked like after you showed your vulgar perversion of love to her?

His conscience pulled up Mabel's crestfallen face, tears gathered in the corner of her beautiful eyes.

She wasn't ready, and you forced your unworthy mouth upon hers. You placed your disgusting hands upon her perfect body. You violated her, Dipper.

"Shut up, you liar," Dipper sank defeated to the bathtub floor.

You lack control: just like your father. But then again your father never sexually assaulted you, so maybe you are even worse than him.

"I fucking hate you so much," Dipper hugged his knees to his chest, and choked back a sob. He had already cried earlier today, and dammit he refused to cry again.

I know, and I hate you too.

Oh, and before you even consider making a plan to undo the damage you did, I'll just point out that all those smoke and mirrors with Wendy won't work this time at all. Mabel isn't going to be able to rationalize away your disgusting affections.


Mabel was pretending to sleep by the time Dipper returned to the room. Dipper knew she was faking it, and he suspected that Mabel was aware that he knew.

Let us have the illusion of peace, if only for a moment.

Dipper ran a hand through his still wet hair. His breakdown in the shower put him way over the 10 minute time limit that Grunkle Stan had imposed on day one of their summer vacation.

Not that it matters. My dear, old Grunkle Stan is way too focused on his science project in the basement to notice something as meaningless as a long shower. Besides I needed it to get my head on straight. I need to stay focused on the task at hand: killing that Merman. After removing him from the picture, then and only then can I get back to winning Mabel's heart.

The path into Mabel's arms will be long and difficult. Dipper reviewed the conclusion he reached after recovering from his breakdown. Nothing good is ever easy to attain, and considering how perfect Mabel is and how imperfect I am, I must anticipate setbacks. But once I have Mabel's arms wrapped around me, I will be able to look back on these trials with a level of fondness.

Dipper climbed into bed and pulled off his t-shirt having found relatively recently that he slept better without it.

Tomorrow I'll put my 15 step plan into action. Tomorrow Mermando will pay.

Dipper pulled up his blanket, closed his eyes, and focused on his breathing. During one of his many retreats into the sanctuary of the library years ago, Dipper had found a book on meditation. After years of abuse, Dipper found that meditating just prior to sleep significantly reduced the incidence of nightmares. So it became a nightly ritual for him.

It was one of the few things keeping him sane.

Then an image of Mermando being impaled on a giant fishing hook flashed into Dipper's mind. Dipper smiled.

Well, mostly sane at least.


Dipper awoke late in the morning to find that Mabel had already fled the bedroom. Normally Mabel would joyously bounce him awake as soon as she herself got up.

It actually hurt a little that she forwent her usual wake up call. Dipper swallowed his sadness down into his stomach, and there it would remain till that glorious day in the future when Mabel will return love for love and sadness will be banished from the two of them forever.

That day cannot come soon enough. But even in this cursed moment of alienation, there is some perverted version of a blessing: now I can focus on causing a war to make Mermando pay recompense for his misdeeds.

Dipper fantasized about the discord he was about to unleash: the screams of hundreds of those… creatures as the tenuous peace is broken and an army of fierce warriors invades their once restive city.

Dipper shivered with anticipation.

Everything is in place. I have the covetous curse which is now focused to the merman species and the knowledge on which species can do the most damage. Now is the time to act. Now is the time to free Mabel from that unnatural freak's affections.

Years from now, Mabel will thank me for doing this. I know she will.

Dipper stood back from the Covetous Circle he had painted onto the forest clearing in ink mixed with the blood of a virgin. Luckily magic doesn't care about the quantity of blood. All Dipper needed was a small amount, so he had one of the gnomes still a couple vials of blood from the pediatric ward of the nearest hospital. By now, some lab technician will have reported that a patient's blood sample did not make it to the laboratory, and a doctor will simply order a new blood draw.

Blood samples go missing all the time. The doctor will probably assume that a nurse sent it to a wrong department at the end of her 18 hour shift.

Dipper wasn't necessarily afraid of getting his hands dirty should the situation call for it, but why draw attention to himself by acquiring the blood himself when by far simpler solutions were readily available?

At three specific locations, Dipper placed three items he had acquired through the services of a peculiar lake creature who went by the name of Crup. This Crup creature is part of a race of sentient frogs who pride themselves of being the best thieves on land or in water. At least that is what the Journal said. Dipper didn't know about the 'on land' part, but Crup had proven himself to be thoroughly competent within the realm of the lake.

All three of these items came from the royal court of the Manatees. The first item was a gold plated vessel for fermented seaweed, which was the alcoholic beverage of choice among the elites of the lake. Crup stated that it belonged to the Manatee King himself. The second item was an ornate pillow, which according to Crup had belonged to the Manatee King's advisor. The third item was a tiara, which once belonged to the King's daughter.

Once this complete, Dipper place a fourth and final item in the center of the focusing array. Dipper grinned: Mermando will only know that he sealed his own fate by bottle-mailing Mabel a lock of his hair when I am choking the life out of him.

It was happenstance that Dipper found himself in the twins' bathroom when a bottle bubbled up from the toilet containing the means to exact his revenge.

Dipper had at first sneered at this vain display of 'love' Mermando had sent his Mabel and at how fitting it was that this 'gift' had come through the toilet, but then Dipper realized that some form of providence was at work here. Dipper by that point knew that he needed something of the Merfolk's royalty to make the focusing array work: what better than a lock off the head of the Mer-king's son?

Now all I have to do is invoke the curse and the Manatee royalty will covet the depths of the Merfolk. Then comes the war. Then comes steps 3 through 14, which will culminate with Step 15: me choking the life from that shitty, little fish.

Dipper stepped back and took off his hat and vest before putting on his hood and cape. These he had made himself from imbuing spider silk with the magic of his amulet. Doing so his research told him would allow the wearer better access to the amulet's power. It was not without risk: prolonged wearing of the cape would exhaust the caster's physical and emotional strength. Leaving him weak and vulnerable.

Better make this quick then.

Dipper placed the amulet around his neck and took a centering breath.

"Concupisces domum proximi tui. Omne quod desiderat anima per vim." As Dipper spoke the ink of the circle glowed a magenta color. Just as he finished the curse blue flames engulfed all for items: consuming them completely. Then it was done: the curse was cast and nothing could undo it.

Dipper stumbled back from the circle feeling completely drained, but also a little euphoric.

One step closer to freeing Mabel from that monster.

Dipper pulled the cape from his shoulders: folding it carefully before sitting down on the forest floor to gather his strength.

Crup had better be timely with his report on the Manatee troop movements. I'm paying him a small fortune in gold nuggets for that information.

Dipper sighed and closed his eyes. It'll will probably be a couple days before anything happens, so there is no rush. I'll just rest a little bit. I feel worn thin: like all my muscles have eroded to nothing.

I would suffer any affliction for you, Mabel. I hope you will never doubt that.

Dipper felt tears well up in the corners of his eyes.

It's just the emotional backlash from using the cape.

At least, that is what Dipper wanted to believe.


It was midday by the time Dipper found the strength to get up and stumble back to the shack. He only hoped that half the day would be enough for Mabel to be able to face him again. The emotional backlash was much worse than he had expected. (Of course, that made sense: he had never used the cape to perform such a dark and dangerous curse before.), and Dipper desperately needed Mabel's bright and cheery disposition to help his recovery.

But of course Dipper found upon his return to the Shack that Mabel had still not come back from wherever she had disappeared off to that morning.

Figures. Whatever I need I shall not receive. Oh well, I feel like I've just run two marathons, but at least I've got my emotions back into some semblance of control.

Dipper looked up the stairs, and sighed wearily, "Why can't my bed be right next to the door?"

"Kid, you are way too young to be asking that question especially in that world weary tone," Grunkle Stan spoke up from his place in the armchair. He took a sip from a diet Pitt, "Why don't you have a seat on the couch and tell me what's eating you."

Dipper bit back a groan, I really don't have the energy for this, Stan.

But Dipper knew that open defiance would just invite more scrutiny, so he gathered what little strength he had left and turned away from the stairs—and his waiting bed—towards the living room and his inevitable interrogation.

Dipper settled into the old as dirt couch and had to fight the urge to just close his eyes and sleep.

Dipper turned and meet Stan's eyes confidently, "Well, Grunkle. You have a captive audience, so do tell: what exactly do you think is 'eating me'?"

"Don't try to con a conman, kid. I asked the question first," Grunkle Stan's frown deepened marginally.

That is twice in just as many days that I've failed to weasel my way out of answering difficult questions. But perhaps a few half-truths will serve the same purpose.

"Well, you know, Grunkle Stan. I recently got fired from being the assistant life guard at the pool. I've never been fired before, and—well—events at the pool hit me rather hard," There was technically nothing false about what Dipper had just said. Nothing hit harder than watching Mermando lay his unworthy lips on his Mabel.

Grunkle Stan was silent as he simply continued to stare into Dipper's eyes, and Dipper boldly kept his eyes level with Stan's.

After about 30 seconds of silence Stan spoke, "I know how to tell when someone is overcompensating for a lie, Dipper, and you most definitely are."

Dipper felt his heart freeze. How the fuck did he know?

Grunkle Stan saw the question in his eyes, and decided to have mercy on the poor kid.

"A liar's eyes dart away from other's eyes in a spit second, kid. Everyone knows that," Stan chuckled to himself, "It's because of this that an overcompensating liar will force eye contact to last way longer than it naturally does. No one stares into someone's eyes for longer than 20 seconds comfortably. Not if they aren't completely infatuated, and I know that isn't the case. Ergo, you're lying."

Dipper started to say something, but Stan cut him off, "Don't try to deny it, kid. I'm the best liar there is: it's why I found you out so quickly. Now, speak honestly: what's eating you?"

Dipper was quiet for a moment as he weighed his options, but he knew in his heart that he was at a dead end in the lie department and in actuality the truth was weighing heavy on his mind. Dipper felt bile rise in the back of his throat. He had decided.

"Mabel has a boyfriend," Dipper spoke.

"Again? Mabel really flies through 'em," Stan responded, "But even though you didn't handle the first one very well, you didn't look quite so nauseated then as this time around. So what's different with this boyfriend?"

Dipper sneered, "This time I know without a doubt that he is completely unworthy of Mabel."

"And what makes him unworthy?"

Dipper got up and started pacing, "For one he is a goddam pretty boy who would never be able to protect Mabel."

"Isn't that a perk? If he ever hurts Mabel, you and me would have no problem kicking his teeth in?" Stan asked half joking.

The joke only agitated Dipper even more, "No, no. He isn't able nor is he willing to protect Mabel." Dipper had raised his voice a little.

"How do you know he isn't willing? They only started dating like a day ago if your reaction is anything to go by. That is a really short time frame to judge a person on," Stan asked.

"I can just tell he could never make the sacrifice for Mabel," Dipper spoke hotly, "Mabel deserves someone who will put her first!"

"Maybe someday Mabel's boyfriend will learn to sacrifice for her," Stan countered, "I mean you've had years of putting Mable first. It takes time to learn these things."

"Don't you dare compare him to me," Dipper turned away.

"Why not? Your both important boys in Mabel's life," Stan pushed further, "Why can't this boy learn to sacrifice for Mabel's happiness just like you?"

Dipper whirled around seeing red.

"He could never sacrifice as much as I already have!" Dipper shouted.

Silence grew thick between them.

Stan set his diet pitt on the end table next to his armchair, and sighed deeply.

"Listen, kid. We could go through the whole song and dance about how you've sacrificed for Mabel, and you'll probably come up with a million lies to cover it all up, so let's just cut to the chase," Grunkle Stan met Dipper's eyes with his own.

"Dipper, I know."

Dipper felt as if the rug were pulled out from under him. A pit opened up in his stomach.

"How long have you known?" It came out a ragged whisper.

"I've known since the instant I saw you coming off the bus. You set your suitcase down and helped Mabel with her own. And then you looked up and I saw it in your eyes, and I knew," Stan replied.

"You've known all this time, but you haven't called the cops," Dipper stated.

"And why should I? There are evil people in this world, and sometimes you have to do evil things to protect the people you love from those evil people," Stan breathed before continuing, "Let me ask you something, Dipper: do you really think your bastard father was the only child beater in this fucked up family?"

Dipper observed his Grunkle closely and for the first time noticed just how old and worn down he appeared. "I guess I always thought he was a special sort of monster."

Stan gave a mirthless laugh, "Kid, we're monsters all the way back."

Grunkle Stan took off his glasses, and looked at Dipper.

Dipper felt like he was looking in a mirror that showed 60 years into the future. Grunkle Stan's eyes had the same look as his own.

"A word of advice, Dipper. When you kill: make damn sure the mark deserves it, and make sure you're doing it to protect someone else. Your soul will still be stained, but at least you'll still be able to sleep at night."


And end chapter 4. As always reviews on what you liked and didn't like are appreciated.