"Wow, I can't believe my brain would actually do that…"

"I know, right?! I-I mean, Dippy Fresh wasn't even ironically lovable! He was just… just, URGH, I wanna rip his head off!"

The two Mabels were in the midst of a discussion on the many, many things wrong with Mabeland, and to the older Mabel it came as a relief to see they'd arrived back at the Mystery Shack - it meant she could put the thought of that poseur Dipper impostor away before she felt like punching someone who didn't deserve it.

Parking up next to Grunkle Stan's car, young Mabel undid her seatbelt and bolted for the door as fast as she could, with older Mabel taking a slower pace - if she'd arrived back in 2012 a few hours sooner, she would have wanted to start things out leisurely, with hugs and coffee all round, but now would do just fine. Neither of the Mabels had any plan of what to do or say once they got in - it was assumed they'd just 'wing it'.

Before she'd even got back inside, she could hear the sound of raucous, bellowing laughter echoing throughout the house, followed by the slurred, raspy voice of a troublesome time traveler, his speech broken up by the odd hiccup.

"Yanno, y-y-you guys, you… I, I-I'm smart! Way smarter than that dumb Time Baby! I-I could go back in time and invent… time travel before he does. I could invent… gravity, microwaves, Hawaiian pizza… and it'd be me in the history books, me, Blendin Blandin! Inventor of everything! Go suck a lemon, Edison! Y-y-you, you... y-y-y-yyyyyyyam man! "

The two Mabels emerged into the kitchen just in time to see the odd scene that had developed in their absence.

Blendin Blandin was standing at the head of the table, littered with poker chips, cards and empty Root™ Beer bottles, holding one such bottle in his hand. He'd undone the top half of his jumpsuit to let it hang loosely from his waist, giving everyone a rare glimpse of his 'DON'T DO THE TIME-CRIME IF YOU CAN'T DO THE TIME-TIME!' T-shirt, complete with clocks replacing the 'O's. ...For a supposedly covert organization, the T.A.R.C. sure do like announcing their profession.

Sitting on either side of him was a jubilant Soos, still guffawing at Blendin's antics, and a more indifferent Grunkle Stan - himself holding a bottle and having gone to 'casual mode', still in his suit but without his fez and his jacket undone, exposing his beer gut.

"Sheesh, this guy…" Stan said to himself, in a way that sounded both amused and annoyed. Mabel was familiar with the tone.

"GRUNKLE STAN!" Past Mabel yelled as she bolted into the room, immediately gripping her Grunkle tight in a hug before he had a chance to react.

"H-hey, Mabel, you're back!" he said, returning the hug, looking concerned as he noticed the bandages around her head. "Oy... what happened to ya?"

"Oh, I just got a bump on the noggin, no biggie! I'm probably not supposed to be zippin-a-rippin' about like this, but eh, what can ya do? Oh, um… s-sorry I ran off earlier, by the way."

"Eh, it's fine," Stan said, ruffling her past self's hair, "yer a strong kid, I knew you'd bounce back soon enough. Uh… please excuse the stench of… grown-up beverages. I been goin' through some things."

The older Mabel had wanted to try and stay out of sight, but she knew the others would see her skulking around sooner or later. Besides, she's over six feet tall and dressed all in bright pink, stealth feels like a lost cause. She may as well re-affirm that she is indeed who she's gonna tell them she is. Or… pre-affirm.

She threw caution to the wind and charged in like a thundering rhino, catching Stan in a bear hug of her own - not waiting for her past self to get out the way first.

"OOF! Huh, wha?! What the hell?!" Stan exclaimed, already sounding slightly strained.

"GRUNKLE STAN! I-I'm sorry I lied to you earlier, I'm not actually Mabel's aunt, I'm Mabel from the future, I came back in time to do a thing but I messed it up and wound up doing a different thing but it's okay because I stopped the apocalypse but then I screwed up again and my past self mighta hit her head on the ground 'cause of me and I'm really sorry about that but we found out that Greasy's sells Raspburgers so that's pretty cool and also I punched Preston Northwest in the face and now I'm here!"

Everything stopped for about ten seconds as everyone processed what she just rattled off. The only noise was the "mmmf!" muffled struggling of her past self, sandwiched between Stan and her future self.

"O-oh, right…" Mabel said, shifting her hug a little to let her past self squirm free. Her hair was mussed up, but her smile was intact.

"Hnnng…" Stan went, feeling the vice grip of older Mabel's hug clamp down on his bones. "I-I know, pumpkin… seriously, let go, yer gonna break my spine…"

Mabel released the hug and stepped back, surprised. "Wait, you know?"

Stan stretched, making a 'pop' noise as his disturbed bones were set back into place. "Ugh… yeah, 'course I did. It was obvious. You called me 'Grunkle', fer Moses' sakes. An' that's ignorin' the… well, literally everythin' about how you look, sound, act… I'da been worried if you weren't Mabel. Plus, Tweak over there…" he said, pointing at Blendin, "just explained to me that time travel exists, so there's that."

"Ohhhh yeah…" Mabel went, feeling sweat drop down her face at the sight of the guy; more out of remorse of having indirectly gotten him into trouble again than anything else; she knew he was now harmless since he was inside the anti-Bill shield.

"Hi, Blendin! Sorry I punched you earlier."

"Ehhh, is fine!" he slurred, collapsing into his seat. "W-w-water under the time-bridge and all that!"

"Woah…" Soos cut in, having been thoroughly stunned by the revelation. "So you taught yourself the Mabel-hug… of course, it all makes sense! And… and I thought you were hitting on me... nnnhhhrrrr…" he shivered. Mabel didn't want to imagine what sort of gross vibes he must be feeling right now. She just knew they needed to be quelled at once.

"Hey, Past Me! How 'bout we give 'im a double dose?"

"I like the sound'a that!"

"Heh! Aw geez, this is gonna be like… the hug to end all hugs!" Soos said as he spread his arms wide, already getting over that awkwardness.

"No way! This is only the beginning! Welcome to Cuddletopia, population: you!"

The hug that followed was so strong and so fast, Mabel could have sworn Soos' eyes began comically bulging out, like his head was about to explode - but going from the grin on his face, he'd have probably been happy with that.

Just then, Mabel's ear perked up, as she heard the distinct soft 'slam' of the gift shop vending machine closing.

"Alright, Mr. Blandin; it took far too long and I hit far too many snags, but I've finally got Project Mentem repaired…" she could hear Grunkle Ford say, in his classic 'man on a mission' tone. Sure enough, by the time he turned the corner into the kitchen, he had one hand behind his back, the other hand pointing up, and his eyes were either closed or he just glazed over the scene in there, because it took him a few seconds to notice.

When he did notice, he recoiled, looking at everyone in turn.

The older Mabel figured it might be wise to establish her presence first. "Hi, Grunkle Ford!" she said, extracting herself from Ford and stepping towards him. "I'm Mabel from the future! I got here a couple hours ago and I averted Weirdmageddon by punching the time travel guy in the face!" she declared, beaming, with her hands proudly on her hips. "...You're welcome!"

"Weirdma-what-now?" Stan said, scruffling his own hair.

Ford's mouth dropped. "I… I-I… y-you… but if… and why…" he spluttered, pointing at her, pointing at her past self, pointing at Blendin. After about thirty agonizing seconds of everyone in the room staring at him, he sighed.

"Okay, one problem at a time!" he declared, stepping forward with renewed confidence. "First of all, Stanley - why has my prisoner been untied?! And why is he inebriated?!"

"H-HEY!" Blendin cut in, slamming a fist on the table; several empty bottled clinked together; one fell off. "I-I-I-I'm nobody's prisoner, YOU'RE the prisoner! TO THE DUNGEON WITH YOU! OOOOONE MIIILLIIIIOOOOON YEEEEEAAAAARS DUNGEEEEOOOOON!"

Shrieking that loudly must have left him exhausted, because he passed out onto the table immediately afterwards. Snoring, Soos got up and hauled him up back into a more comfortable sitting position.

"Gee, I dunno, why'd ya stick the guy in my kitchen instead o' draggin' 'im down to yer stupid lab?" Stan asked, sounding resigned.

"I couldn't keep him downstairs before Project Mentem was functioning again, he's a security risk!"

"'Cause he was possessed by yer ol' buddy Bill Cipher, right?"

Ford paused, startled.. "H-how did you…?"

"Don't deny it, Poindexter, Tweak told me everythin'!" Stan raised his voice, standing up from his seat. "Turns out ya didn't even need yer Project Mentos or whatever, talkin' to 'im like a normal person woulda worked! Not that you'd know anythin' about talkin' to people, like how ya didn't talk to me about the tear in the universe you've been keepin' in the basement!"

"W-well, yes, but… that's not…" Ford tried to explain himself, fidgeting his six-fingered hands, his eyes darting around the room.

Before he could say anything, Stan faced the older Mabel. "'Ey, Big Mabel. Ya say yer from the future, right? This all true?"

Mabel swallowed, her own expression now mirroring Ford's. She remembered how badly her Grunkles were getting along in the days leading up to - and during - Weirdmageddon; how it had almost cost them the world, literally. She wanted to sigh and resign herself to having to re-live that unpleasantness, but she couldn't. She had to make an attempt to avert it. Right? But she couldn't lie, either… maybe if everything gets out into the open, things will turn out okay?

"Um… yeah. Yeah, it's true."

"See, what'd I tell ya?" Stan said, with a smirk of vindication briefly on his face. "Ya care t'explain why I wasn't informed'a this?"

Despite his forcefulness, Ford apparently ignored him - probably thinking he'd ignored much more dangerous things in the Multiverse - and turned to face her, pointing. "And you say you're from the future? How do we even verify this? For all we know, you could be the Shape-Shifter, or some other manner of doppelganger!"

Before she could even think of an answer, she felt her past self clutching her leg tightly, starting to look frustrated again. "Hey, don't talk about Future Me like that! I know she's me! She knows stuff only I'd know, like how many sweaters I've worn this summer!"

"Well, maybe she's also a telepath!"

"Hey, Big Mabel!" Soos called over the second he heard that, without missing a beat, "what number am I thinkin' of?"

"I have no idea!" the older Mabel answered, as cheerfully as possible.

"See? ...Aww…" Soos said, now sounding disappointed, as if he was actually hoping she was a telepath. That would be pretty cool, though…

"'Ey, don't you dare change the subject, Sixer!" an increasingly irate Stan stepped forward, inches from jabbing a finger in his brother's chest, "you just don't want 'er to be from the future, 'cause if she was, you'd have to admit that you screwed up!"

Ford grunted, almost slapping Stan's hand away. "Stanley, we don't have time for this nonsense!"

"'Nonsense'?! This is yer family we're talkin' about here! We deserve answers!"

"Alright, FINE!" Ford raised his voice, throwing his hands in the air, "YES, it's true! Yes, I made an error in judgement! Yes, I was the one who almost brought Bill into the world! Yes, I've been looking after a rift in time-space, the one that you created by overtaxing the portal!"

"Well, gee, maybe it'd have been nice to know before you punched me in the face fer wastin' thirty years o' my life bringin' you back! Maybe then I wouldnt'a been missin' so much 'important context'!"

"Stanley, you don't understand! I was trying to protect you!"

This was… not going well. Mabel wanted to intervene somehow, but she had no idea what she could possibly do or say without making things worse. As per usual. Once again, her happiness chart was all messed up and every possible path to repairing it would have undesirable knock-on effects. She looked down at her past self next to her, expecting her to be distressed - maybe she could go for a 'stop, you're upsetting Past Me!' angle… but her past self didn't look sad right now, she looked angry. Like something had just clicked in her mind.

"That's TOTAL BALONEY and you know it, Grunkle Ford!" Past Mabel spoke up, stepping forward, her shoulders tensed up.

"Mabel, sweetheart, you don't-"

"No, YOU don't understand! I almost caused the end of the world 'cause I had no idea what that dumb techno-snowglobe was! I would have done if Future Me hadn't pulled off that epic drop-punch outta nowhere!"

"You did what...?"

"Yeah, you heard me right! Bill came to me in his Blendin-shaped finger-puppet, an' said he could make summer last forever, and I was feeling all… a-all horrible and gross and unhappy 'cause…" she stopped to clear the lump in her throat, her voice cracking again, "...'cause Dipper was gonna leave me to stay here with you forever, an' you were gonna kick Grunkle Stan out and close the Shack, a-and I wasn't thinking of anyone but myself 'cause I'm a selfish idiot and I'm really, really sorry, but… I-I wouldn'ta done it if I had known, I swear!"

By now, Mabel could see her past self's eyes watering up again; her tone had gone from angry to penitent, begging for forgiveness. The older Mabel rubbed her forehead, trying to look away - the truth was, she wasn't even sure she would have done differently even if she had known. Bill knew just the right buttons to push, and he couldn't have found a better dupe if he'd tried.

'It's this or you lose your brother forever, Shooting Star! What'll it be?' she could imagine Bill saying.

"Wait, that's what she was crying about earlier?" Stan said, now physically pushing himself between his brother and the two Mabels. "You asked Dipper to stay with you here forever, without even askin' Mabel first? I assume ya didn't bother to ask their parents, either, since they don't even know you exist! Whaddya tryin'ta accomplish here?!"

"Dipper is a bright young man, with great potential!" Ford countered, "he deserves better than what small-minded dross passes for American public school curriculum!"

"That's not the POINT!" Stan yelled in his face, spraying spittle onto his glasses, "the point is that ya don't spring that sorta stuff on people without askin' everyone first! It don't just affect you an' Dipper, yanno! See, this is why I told ya to stay away from the kids! Well, one reason! I asked one thing o' you, Stanford, an' you didn't even listen!"

"You never gave me a reason to listen to you, Stanley! Not after every problem that could have been avoided if you had listened to me!"

"I can't LISTEN to what's NOT THERE, Stanford!"

"Woah, woah, back up a minute, Mr. Pineses!" Soos - of all people - decided to cut in, holding up his hands. "What was that about kickin' Mr. Pines out? And closin' down the Shack?!"

Ford tried to quiet him. "Zeus, please, this-"

"H-how can you kick out your own brother? He's an old dude! He has dentures, and a hearing aid, and an orthopedic back pillow! I don't even trust mi Abuelita with online shopping, and you wanna throw him out on the streets?! A-and the Shack, I…" his voice started to crack in a way Mabel had heard far too many times, "...the Mystery Shack is my life, dude! You can't just take that away from us!"

"This is my house, I can do whatever I want with it! This 'Mystery Shack' is nothing but a mockery of my studies!" Ford blurted out.

For a short but agonizing moment, the room fell silent. Mabel could see tears running down Soos' eyes.

"I… y… I-I gotta go hammer a nail repeatedly for no reason…" he said, dejectedly, pulling his cap over his eyes as he marched out the room.

That wasn't a side of Soos Mabel had seen in a while - it reminded her far too much of his disastrous birthday party earlier that summer. Going from Past Mabel's look, she was thinking the same thing.

Mabel looked back at Ford - she was thankful he was a gross old man, not a gross young man, because his wrinkles made it easier to track the way his face moved - and she'd become intimately familiar with her Grunkles' facial expressions over the years. Yet despite this, she wasn't sure what to make of his face right now - it was mostly blank, with maybe the briefest hint of regret before disappearing. Like he thought maybe he'd been too harsh but dismissed it, probably rationalizing it away as 'overly sentimental behaviour'.

The thought made a feeling of resentment well up inside Mabel, a feeling she thought she'd long since buried. As though she and her 12-year-old self were on the same wavelength, she remembered bearing a grudge against Ford - the 'grumpy old nerd' - for a very brief moment before Weirdmageddon began. She supposed that right now, that grudge must have been allowed to fester and grow, without the pressing matter of the apocalypse to nip it in the bud. She probably should have told her past self that Ford would turn out okay, but… he hadn't that reality check. Not yet.

Besides, he's not her Ford. Not really. Maybe he would be later, but not now.

"Okay, listen, Grunkle Ford…" she finally said, sidestepping Stan, "I've been trying to be patient with you, okay? Like, trying to stay neutral and all that junk. But you're not making it easy for me, because - real talk here - you're kiiiiiiiiinda actin' like a jerk! Look, I know you can be better than this, 'cause I've seen it happen, but… c'mon, seriously? Are you seriously not over all of this?! You're, like, fifty-bazillion years old! I mean, I'm not over a lotta stuff I should be, but I'm from the future and I'm still half your age!"

Ford had been trying to get a word in edgeways the whole time she was talking, but only with this pause had he managed to step forward. "Listen, Mabel - if that's who you really are - I have nothing to be 'over'! It's Stanley who keeps insisting on making mountains out of molehills! I was just one man, not worth global destruction to bring back!"

"Oh, gimme a break! If you're so 'over it', why wouldya keep critical information from me an' Grunkle Stan 'cause you assumed we'd break that dumb rift? I read your journal, I know you thought I'd break it like any other snowglobe! An' why wouldya tell a twelve-year-old boy, to his face, that being a twin is 'suffocating' and his sister is holding him back?!"

She'd shot that little tidbit out without really thinking - and beneath her, she could hear a weak gasp out of her past self's mouth.

"Wait, did… d-did Grunkle Ford really say that about me?"

Mabel immediately slapped her hands over her mouth.

She shouldn't have said that. She should not have said that.

"O-oh… I'm… I-I'm sorry, I thought I told you already…"

Her past self stepped forward, looking up at Ford. "Grunkle Ford, is this true? D-did you tell Dipper I was 'suffocating'?!"

Ford swallowed hard. Mabel could now clearly see the way his wrinkles were going - panic. Clear regret, yes, but mostly panic. Eyes darting to each of them. Sweat droplets. Fidgeting with his fingers. Anything he could to distract himself. Stan was looking at him, stone-faced. Her past self's face… all too familiar. The same look of betrayal she'd had when Dipper had told her of accepting his offer, but somehow even worse.

"W-well, I… m-maybe, but I didn't… I-I didn't mean it like… like…"

Her past self's eyes began to water once more.

"Y...y-you hate me. I-I didn't wanna believe it, but… you hate me! You actually HATE me!"

"No, Mabel, I wasn't-"

"No, you know what?! NO! THAT'S IT!" Past Mabel snapped, tearfully, her fists straight to her sides. "I NEVER WANNA TALK TO YOU EVER AGAIN!"

She swallowed, sniffling like crazy, and swivelled on her feet. "I'm going to bed! Only Waddles can cheer me up now…" she declared with a sense of finality, before bolting out the room, audibly stomping her way upstairs.

Stan looked his brother straight in the eyes; his hands were also clenched into fists, and they shook. His face bore an animalistic scowl, like at any moment he would pounce and rip Ford to shreds.

"Stanford… this ain't over," he growled. "If I wasn't so old and tired, I swear, I would…"

"Oooookayyyy, I think that's enough for tonight…" Mabel said, placing her tattooed arm across Stan's chest. She knew it wouldn't deter him if he seriously wanted to break Ford's nose - and if she was honest with herself, she'd hardly blame him right now - but she knew that brawling like children wasn't going to accomplish anything. She had to communicate that to them.

...Darn, when did she suddenly turn into a mom? She's only 22!

"Ugh, fine…" Stan relented, loosening up a bit. Grabbing his fez from the table and placing it on his head, he shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'm goin'ta my room to browse spoilers fer my car. Retail therapy."

"Hey, check RacersInBackwardsCaps-dot-com! S'where the Mabel-Mobile got its luscious lashes!" Mabel called after him as he left, in a futile attempt to lighten the mood. She even winked and poked herself in the cheek like some anime character, probably expecting a star to spontaneously appear in the air next to her.

The mood remained thoroughly un-lightened.

She sighed and turned to face Ford, clearly shaken, whose gaze was still fixated on where Stan had just been. She gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Look, Grunkle Ford… I wasn't lying earlier; I know you can be better. That's a one-hundred-percent-pure Mabel-brand truth!"

"I… Mabel, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you suffocating, I was-"

"Projecting? Yeah, I know. It's not me ya need to apologize to, but I'll ignore that for now. Look, I know why you're mad at Grunkle Stan, I-I mean, I'd be pretty miffed if I came back from being pushed into another dimension to bein' forced to live in my basement while some gross, icky clone pretended to be me an' got me banned from international flights an'... well, you get the idea! But… just… j-just go easy on 'im, 'kay? He literally risked the universe for you."

"You say that like it's a good thing…" Ford said in a tone she couldn't decode, before wandering off.

Mabel hadn't been sure what to say, and she wasn't sure if what she'd said… worked? What had she even been trying to accomplish? She already knew she couldn't get them to make up with a few kind words and a hug. But Ford seemed like he regretted what he said. Heck, even that last statement didn't sound entirely genuine. Maybe they were making progress?

She noticed she was now alone in the kitchen - well, except for drunk Blendin passed out in the corner.

Ugh, who was she kidding? She only made things worse - like always - by mentioning what Ford had said to Dipper. How had she even known that? Dipper wouldn't have told her, he'd have known it would just hurt her feelings for no reason.

...Ford had told her. The new Ford, the one who didn't keep secrets (or at least, not as many), to pre-emptively apologize for something she never even knew he'd said. She'd been upset, sure, but at the time it had faded quickly because she knew Ford wasn't like that anymore. Her kid self in this new timeline didn't have the same luxury.

She considered going upstairs to comfort her younger self, but decided against it - she'd restored her happiness once that day and it had taken at least an hour , and she's pretty sure it would have been impossible if it weren't for the whole 'hi, I'm you from the future, ask me anything!' deal she had going. Now the novelty of that was gone and her happiness had been shattered again. Maybe it's best to just let her sleep this one off and revisit it in the morning. Besides, now she was getting pretty tired, too.

Mabel headed for the fridge, intent on getting something to drink. Pitt? Eh, not sweet enough, and besides, she kinda wanted something boozy right now. Root™ Beer? Ew, no. She only drinks cocktails. Sure, it was stereotypical, and a bit weird since she'd never exactly been 'ladylike', but she still had some standards!

Then she noticed a whole pitcher of Mabel-Juice (or Mabel-Juice Classic as she called it now) on the top shelf. She hadn't remembered that being in the fridge when she'd returned to the Shack for the first time during Weirdmageddon… actually, maybe Chutzpar drank it all. He did have a sweet tooth, as it turned out.

Removing it from the fridge, she reached up to the box on top of the fridge, the one she and Dipper couldn't get to when they were kids - she assumed that if Stan had any hard liquor, this is where he'd keep it. Sure enough, she found a bottle of vodka - didn't recognize the brand, but it was clear and it had faux-cyrillic writing on it, which was good enough for her.

She poured out three glasses of Mabel-Juice, setting one aside for her, before taking one and walking over to Blendin's unconscious form in the corner.

She poked him in the cheek - "Boop! Wakey-wakey, time's all snakey!"

He immediately stirred, one eye opening.

"Eh… wh-wha, ow, go away, Cortez…"

"Drink this," she said as she put his glass down on the table, probably sounding more commanding than she would have wanted, "it'll… well, it probably won't do anything, but it's delicious an' everyone should drink it. It's like if coffee and nightmares had a baby!" she declared, as if that was a positive. Which it is. Just because nightmares are bad, doesn't mean its kid has to be!

With Blendin taken care of, she took the bottle of vodka and poured a shot's worth into one of the other glasses, and took that in her right hand, making a mental note that it was 'in Timbuk-tattoo' so she wouldn't get them mixed up.

Vitally important, because now she was heading for Soos, and she knew for a fact he didn't drink. His Abuelita would never allow it. Even after she's long gone, she'd probably come back to haunt him if he ever so much as touched a beer. The fact his lousy dad used to send him Root™-branded postcards certainly discouraged him further.

She assumed he'd headed outside - and as she got close to the front door, she could a faint pitter-patter outside, that steadily transitioned into a louder clattering. It soon became apparent that it was raining outside; between the curtains in the kitchen being closed and that massive argument consuming her attention, she hadn't noticed.

Nonetheless, she found Soos sitting on the old couch on the front porch, protected from the rain by the roof above. He was slouched over, facing away from the door, and going by his reddened face he'd been crying enough to rival the weather. They were blasted by the cool air of late summer rainfall, which helped Mabel relax a bit.

"Hi, Soos… I, um… got you a drink," she said, offering the left glass of Mabel-Juice to him. She lightly shook it, rattling its contents around. "It's got plastic dinoooos!"

"Thanks, May-May… I-I mean, Mabel…" he said, taking the glass, not turning to look at her.

Mabel sat down next to him and leaned back, crossing her legs, and took a sip of her own concoction. "It's okay, you can keep calling me May-May if ya want."

Soos silently nodded, and then downed his entire glass in one go, dramatically throwing back his head and gulping it down loudly, the plastic triceratops loudly clanging all over the place as he did so. It was a wonder he didn't swallow it by accident.

As Mabel watched, she was now especially glad he didn't drink alcohol - this was probably his equivalent of downing a shot in distress.

She shrugged and decided she'd join him, out of empathy. She threw her own head back and mimicked his long gulps. The taste of her drink was familiar to her - sharp, sweet, with a bitter aftertaste.

"I…" he began to say, wiping his arm against his eyes, "I don't want the Shack to close… I never even got to be Mr. Mystery, dude…"

Mabel swallowed, considering her options, before gently placing a hand on his back. "It's okay, Soos, I know… everything will be fine…"

She wanted to tell him how that's exactly what he'd become in her timeline, but she knew that'd just upset him even more, to hear of a better future that he's not going to have. ...A 'better future' where the apocalypse happened. She felt dirty having even conceived that sentence.

"I-I mean… look on the bright side, at least there's no apocalypse!"

"Y-yeah, I guess this is like, objectively better than the end of the world," Soos said, with a rare tinge of bitterness in his voice. Even he could tell that 'better than the apocalypse' is an absurdly low bar to clear.

Mabel sighed, leaning forward. She hated all these gross feelings running through her mind now, getting her to doubt whether or not she'd done the right thing. Of course she did, there's no question about that. Any outcome, no matter how crappy it seems, is better than an entire town getting traumatized and almost killed by a triangle demon.

Cut it out, Mabel, she tried to tell herself. You're being stupid and selfish again. Cut it out. CUT IT OUT.

She really wishes Dipper was here right now. Her Dipper or this timeline's Dipper, it didn't matter. He'd knock some sense into her one way or another, back her up with logic - no Weirdmageddon is better.

It is better! Mabel, NO! Bad Mabel! Stop doubting yourself! It is BETTER! Not perfect, but BETTER!

Then something occurred to her, something else she'd completely failed to notice amidst her tumultuous return.

"Hey, have you seen Dip-Dop?" she asked, "I haven't seen him once since I got back in time. ...Not at ground level, anyway."

"I dunno, dude… last I saw him, he was gettin' on a bus into town, lookin' for… well, you, actually. Little you, I mean. ...I think he said he was gonna call Wendy. I've been tryin' to call Wendy all day, but she's not been answerin'. Battery's prob'ly dead or somethin'."

Mabel raised a brow. "I thought Dipper didn't have a phone. A-at this time."

"Oh no, he borrowed little you's phone. ...Huh, that gives me an idea. 'Ding'-y lightbulb moment, dude."

Soos promptly took out his own phone and attempted to call Past Mabel's number. Mabel looked over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of her kid self's cheery profile picture - she was grinning, and had Waddles next to her.

...Oh yeah, she hadn't checked up on Waddles, either. He was much smaller back in 2012 - his adorable self was much more portable. He was still adorable in her time, but much harder to take anywhere. Like a temple of cuteness, people flocked to him.

Unfortunately, the call went straight to voicemail. 'Heyoooo! You've reached the number of Mabel Louise Pines! She can't reach the phone right now 'cause she's on important HAPPINESS BEEZ-NESS, but feel free to leave a message with her secretary, Waddles the Chief Pork-secutive! Kaythanksbyeee!'

"I remember that message! Heh, 'pork-secutive!'" the older Mabel reflected. "...Ya think I should go look for Dipper?"

"I dunno, ya might spook 'im out..."

"Fair point. Maybe I should ask Grunkle Stan."

She got out of her seat. Though she knew this probably deserved immediate attention - especially if it concerned Dipper - for a few more moments, she found herself frozen, mesmerized by the sight of the rain trickling down through the dark woods. She was especially drawn to the pin-drops scattered all over the roof of the Mabel-Mobile. She always found those cute little mini-splashes kinda therapeutic to watch.

"Oh, by the way, May-May… I-I like your van. It's pretty cool."

"The Mabel-Mobile? Thanks! My pride an' joy. ...Yanno, I learned how to fix it up from Future You. It would never have made it outta Russia if it weren't for your wise counsel."

"Russia?"

"Long story. ...I'll let ya drive it tomorrow, if ya'd like. While I, uh, go get your truck back. Uh, sorry I left it out there."

She leaned up against the door. For a few more sweet, silent moments, with only the clattering of the rain in the background, they loitered around, thinking of nothing in particular.

"May-May… i-is everythin' gonna turn out okay? For us, I mean? You're from the future, so you'd know, right?"

"I… y-yeah, I'm sure it'll be okay. To an extent. ...More okay. ...Definitely an improvement. ...I hope. "

Mabel. You're doing it again. Stop.