AN: The plot thickens...and darkens!

tw: extreme paranoia, domestic abuse


1932

Dipper Pines was regretting all of his life choices in a big way.

Bill Cipher was undeniably, irredeemably evil.

Candy was gone.

And there was a huge portal in his basement, just inviting a triangular demon to come in and attempt to take over the world. Candy had been right, right, totally right about everything, and now she had paid the price, still looking shaken, disoriented and jumpy, even though some time had passed since she'd nearly fallen into the portal. She'd quit after that, which was good for her. She needed to get away, as far away from that terrible portal, and Bill's dimension, if only Dipper could do the same, leave, get far, far away from all of this. Dipper frankly, didn't know what to do. He could destroy the portal, the journals, everything. But that was his research, his life's work, everything meaningful he'd ever done was there.

Well, maybe not everything meaningful.

Somewhere out there, he had a twin sister. She could help him, if he could ever get in contact with her.

But Bill would know immediately who she was and could weaponise it, Mabel is very friendly and doesn't always think things through, she'd make a deal with him, even I made a deal with him, and I'm the clever one between us.

If only, if only, if only he'd listened to Candy.

She would be so excited to hear him telling himself this.

Except that she couldn't because she wasn't here, the only person here was Dipper, talking to himself. Talking like the walls could hear him. Glancing at the Bill Cipher tapestry on the wall, he shuddered.

Can the walls hear me?

But what to do about the portal, and the journals?

Was it worth the risk to get in contact with Mabel?

Who else can I trust?

Candy was gone, unwilling even to come close to Dipper and the portal and the triangular demon trying to take over the world and throw a party. Dipper could understand that, and he didn't want to force her to help.

The only other person from around here who he knew beyond casual acquaintance was Wendy Corduroy, but given that she was currently expecting her first child, it was probably best not to endanger her by giving her a journal. Besides Bill knows how I felt–feel about her. Trusting her is predictable, and who knows? Perhaps she's the type to casually agree to trust a demon, do I know her, can I trust her?

"Trust no-one," he muttered, "there is no-one who I truly can trust. Everyone here can, and well may, be used by Bill."

Could he trust Mabel?

She sabotaged all of my dreams, she's the reason I'm here rambling, rambling.

But that was one incident. A few seconds of thoughtlessness, perhaps even accidental–could that stand up to eighteen years of comradeship and friendship?

Trust no-one, trust no-one.

But something had to be done, at risk of Bill taking over the world.

There was nothing else to do.

Nowhere else to go.

One of his journals was in one of his underground bunkers, and the other was buried near the schoolhouse.

Both in Gravity Falls.

The third (or rather the first), would have to be taken far away, so that no-one, no-one no-one who's eyes glowed like sulfur, slitlike, and smiling could find the journals, collect them like a set, and use them to open the portal, and bring on the end of the world.

He needed his sister, more than ever.


Mabel couldn't afford any of the drinks in the seedy bar in Virginia where she was hiding, as she needed to make her next-to-no money stretch, but the bartender saw the bruises and knew what she was running from, and poured her drinks for free. Mabel was grateful, knowing that all over America, everyone was so poor that these things were a kindness most couldn't afford. She was in a terribly bad position, given that no-one was hiring and no-one had the money for alcohol. She didn't know where to go, all she knew is that she needed to put as much distance between her and Gideon as she could. She'd stolen a little money, but train tickets were steep and she needed to eat too. This wasn't a life she could sustain for very long, but there was nowhere to go. I never met Tyrone's widow and children, but I know they're somewhere north–New York, I think? Could I find them there? Would they support me?

The marriage that had seemed like a miraculous turn for the better and an answer to prayer had turned out to be the complete opposite. Far from the cheerful, benevolent singer just oozing Southern charm Gideon had seemed to be, the real Gideon turned out to be greedy, manipulative and in possession of a short, and violently unpredictable temper, that Mabel had too often found herself on the wrong side of. Nobody ever believed her when she mentioned this, as all the ladies around town thought him quite a darling, and that she was being dramatic. Only Daisy, the Black maid who cleaned the house believed Mabel about the ways that Gideon hurt her, and she was unwilling to speak up, for fear of losing her job or worse. Mabel had just had to suffer in silence. And when her one hope spot, the one thing that was about to redeem the situation, the thing that was going to save everything, disappeared, and Gideon's fury, blaming Mabel, built, she knew she'd have to leave.

A fresh wave of sadness swept over her as she thought about, and subconsciously, her hand rested on her stomach. This gesture reminded her of an entirely different, but pressing matter–it had been a long time since she'd eaten. Can I afford to? It depends on train ticket prices, and where I want to go. Maybe I'll hold off on food for now, and find something later.

"Mabel Pines?" she jumped a mile at the sound of her name, immediately wary. Who's is it? Who knows me in Virginia? If they could find me, so can Gideon. The speaker was a man, who Mabel didn't recognise, but his accent sounded like he came from someone in the North and that, in addition to the fact that he called her 'Mabel Pines' rather than Mrs Gleeful, made her feel a little better.

"Who are you?" she narrowed her eyes. He didn't answer her, and rather hit her with another question.

"Do you perhaps have a twin brother named Mason Jacob Pines, who you perhaps know better as…"

"Dipper?" Mabel breathed incredulously.

"Yes," the man nodded, "I have a letter for you from your brother." Mabel grabbed the letter, noting the return address: 618 Gopher Road, Gravity Falls, OR.

What on earth are you doing in Oregon, Dipper?

Opening the letter, she didn't get an answer to her question, but it did give her a purpose.

Dear Mabel

PLEASE COME

-Dipper


Wow, I have really put Mabel through hell here haven't I? I love a bit of angst