Glass
"What separates you and I – is glass. Are we not the same, hunter?" (Monster Falls AU)
Tad Strange x Mabel Pines
When we all burned. You were there.
II
Mabel waits by the shore; hands pressed to murky, shallow depths, stomach pressed low to the ground. She claws herself closer to land, fingers toiling away at slipping sands and rolled over rocks. The top of her head peeks out from the arms of the water; a curious, hazel gaze watching the opening of the forest. Watching. Waiting. She hasn't seen her brother in four days, and that terrifies her to no end. However, Tad Strange feels more than welcomed to flood her space, her dock with his presences. Anger is foreign to Mabel, but it usually came quickly when it involved Tad.
She wonders if the demon is toying with her at this point. Preying upon her for the past six years. He's never spoken to her, never called out to her while she leveled the waters wanting to catch a glimpse of the sun after a long day of not being able to emerge. She's never seen his eyes, hidden away by chopped hair, and that's what terrifies her the most about this hunter. Bill screamed his threats quite proudly, made it known he was going to devour your soul with a side of wine. But not his brother; she pondered if that made him all the more evil.
Tad never voiced his motive. He only sat on her deck, threading fishing line through his hook and pole, dangling it over her lake's waters. Mabel knew that he knew he wouldn't be able to catch her by mere fishing line alone. It was just something else apart of his game – eluding to something he hasn't quite showed yet. This is how he threatened her.
Mabel pulls back from the shore, hands pushing her away and deeper into her watery home. Curious and innocent eyes never leaving his lanky figure – studying his slow movements of him dangling his legs off the pier carelessly. He could see her just like she could see him, but he posed no signal to catching her. Even while she occupied the land closes to shore.
There's a moment of defying anger, mal hatred; Mabel emerges a little higher in her waters, tail flicking to keep her afloat, and she screams, "Go away! I don't want you here! Just go!" She's angry at herself for not biting the better end of her monster evolution, bound to a lake that surrounds her from all sides. She feels complete fear that her brother is on land, alone, running from a madman who also wishes to claim his rites. She hasn't had decent conversation in a long time besides her brother, and even now, the hopes of him being free and out of danger seemed slim.
That siren side of her rings in her ears, and she wishes the end to the demon who crowds her hunting grounds. Still, even with her outburst, it proved to be unmoving. Tad only lifted his head by an inch and looked directly at her. Mabel quickly sunk to the bottom.
II
Horror claws at his back; he threads the maze of the forest that he's memorized quite fondly, dashing through stilled puddles of mud and abandoned trucks of trees left over to rot. Dipper's chest heaves, prancing as far as his nomadic-creatures legs would carry him. But he can still hear the demon – taunting him, enjoying himself while he chased him to the ends of the forest.
"Always the good sport, Pine Tree," A laugh follows, ghostly and harsh; his cackle almost hurts the bones in Dipper's body, and he wonders, morbidly, when Bill will finally kill him. "Don't play hard to get – that's supposed to be my job! You humans for years always wanted to get ahold of me, but look at you! Jumping away from the opportunity of truly knowing me!"
Vexation lines his whimsical voice, and Dipper can't quite pinpoint the exact location Bill's coming from; he seemed all over the place, around, and almost at his back. The faun fights through exhaustion and riddled fear, brushing past swinging branches, and curling thorn that tore through delicate flesh; wounds stung against the open air, but Dipper's adrenaline ate at him too much to truly care about now – it was his future he feared.
"Six years is a long time in human terms; so fragile and weak. Are you going to cry, Pine Tree? It's OK. I won't tell a soul." Bill's playful voice bites at the hairs of Dipper's neck, and it spurs him on to run faster, to push his unnatural limits. The sides of Dippers eyes burned, and he tried his best to swallow his frustration – even when a demon was sizing up his weakness, it would be a matter of time. "Hah! You're the only soul around!"
Dipper's dash is cut short by the piercing sound of a penetrating bullet, forceful entry shoving one side of his body forward; the wound burns with heat – leaving him to trample over vining and decomposing bark. His back thigh ached, warm blood staining fur, but Dipper fought to crawl his way through the pain, sinking his fingers down in the soil to hoist himself forward. His teeth clench, body heavy with exasperation. Oh, Mabel will be all alone.
Heavy ominous boots snaps over tree branches, Bill taking his time to reach the young faun. "No need to worry, Pine Tree. You can tell me all your secrets. I won't mind." Dipper painfully turns, watching Bill come into view, hands laden with a powerful caliber and rope; a dangerous, sharp smile pulled over neatly.
Bill swings his heavy rifle over his back, crouching down to catch a better look at his trophy, and when Dipper tried to pull away, Bill was quick to snatch the boy by his antlers and turn his full attention back on him. Demons are possessive and hell-driven, Bill showed nothing less in the way he handled his wounded hunt.
"You're a reasonable young buck," Bill mocks, "Bit of a smartass, but that's how I like 'em." Dipper cringes under the hunter's weight, suffocated by his lack of space. Bill has no concept in human pain and urgency, and with shock, Dipper's world was forcefully ripped from under him.
II
Tad looks up from his fireplace when he hears the dreadful sound of a door being swung off its hinges, and his brother's maniacal laughter which echoed when he entered their shared, tiny cabin in the woods. Boots click off wooden floors, creaking under excited weight, the door slams back shut. Tad stays in place, one hand crossed over the other, legs crossed; he's not amused to Bill's muffled victory. He knew why Bill came in so late. He knew the Pines' boy was unwilling accompanying his brother. Still, the demon who dabbled in bets showed no remorse when he saw Bill strode in front of him, blocking the heat of his fireplace, with a faun draped over his shoulders; busted and bloody and left unconscious, submerged in dark sleep.
"Guess who caught their trophy first," Bill started, sing-song and boastful.
"Your prize is bleeding out," Tad added, unaffected to the sight of constant, dripping blood ruin his rug. Bill crouches in front of his brother, sliding Dipper off his shoulders with a shrug; the faun's position is unnatural due to the tightness of his bindings, face tilted towards him – he looked innocent.
"Aw. Don't be like that. I know you're jealous that I caught mine first – even after you berated my hunting technique – but you don't have to comment on the appearance of my trophy. Shooting Star isn't all grand, either." Bill straightens his posture, hands patting at the sides of his hip, looking for the shape of his cigarette box. Once he locates his smokes, he pulls one out – only to look over his shoulder for a split second to see the stale, russet blood stain his hunting attire. "Damn, the kid got my favorite shirt dirty."
Tad doesn't move, the lining of his lips tugging south, "Bill, the boy is going to die. Fix him up if you wish to continue to gloat about your prize." The demon moves his shoe away from the lifeless body, "And move him. Do you know how hard it is to wash blood out of carpets?"
"You're pretty full of yourself for a demon beneath his own brother," Once Bill lights his drag, he inhales and waves his hand in front of him, blowing smoke in Tad's direction. "A'ight. I'll patch the meat-bag up, and when he awakes, you better be here. I want to gloat some more when Pine Tree's more aware."
II
It has been two months since the disappearance of her brother. It has been two months since anyone has spoken to her. Not even Tad haunted her pier, and that made her all the more aware that her end was coming near.
Mabel nestles at the bottom of the lake, waiting out the harshness of Gravity Falls' winter. She opens and closes her mouth, watching tiny air bubbles escape her lips and travel up, disappearing once it hit the water's surface. She runs her fingers through the ghostly movement of her dark hair, strands escaping her tender grasp, floating aimlessly around the crown of her head. With sea-eyes, she watches the morning sun approach, breaking through the barrier of the lake's stagnant and calm waters.
With morning approaching, she's reminded to check for the purple flowers by her shores. She's so deprived from the outside world that she belittles herself for being so excited over freshly grown flowers – even if cut through the snow, and survived the winter blast. Mabel, at this point, was starting to consider her situation a mere dream, a terrible illusion the dream demon brothers cast upon her. She'll wake up any moment – hearing Grunkle Stan's loud snoring down the halls of the Mystery Shack, and Dipper endlessly flipping through the pages of his book, muttering to himself over the next adventure they would partake on.
Mabel closes her eyes, gills filtering in her water intake. The flowers will have to wait. It's too cold for her, and she's far too gone to truly care about her wellbeing. The movement of fish swims over her skin, relaxing into the soft bed of sand.
Mabel arises to the sound of a faint whistle, tail flicking, she shoots from her spot; she's skeptical over the timing, Dipper usually calls to her at night. But she's mindlessly excited, swimming forward till she met the base of her drying dock, climbing the wooden pole. Her hands grip the edge, using all her strength to pull her up. She honestly couldn't believe that after two months of no communication that her brother was alive and well, fighting his way to survive.
"Dipper! Oh, Dipper –," her hopes die in her throat once her fingers brush over the hard toe of a muddy boot. Mabel freezes, body half way pulled up, stricken with the revelation that her nightmare may never end, and she'll be alone forever in the dark depths of her lake, bound to the immobile body of a mermaid.
Tad's dark figure overshadows her from the sun, leaving Mabel unable to move when he slowly crouched with a silver whistle and chain threated through his gloved fingers. For the first time, Mabel finally listens to the beast speak to her, dark and hard; his words may be simple, but the gravity behind them were not.
He's white as snow, violent hair clashing his complexion. He's as graceful as a ghost – dangling her brother's whistle in front of her face. "This is your brothers."
Mabel chokes, emotions flooded and floored. Her hopes are fleeting when she sobs out in disbelief. "No," she's prepared to sink, but his hand catches her wrist, and tugs her halfway out of the water. "Let go of me! What did you do to Dipper? My brother!" Frantically, her tail curls over the pier's pole, but he jerks her up, dragging her down the wooden planks of the dock. Her free hand clenches, knuckles marred white, she prepares to strike him, but he holds her other wrist down, pinning her brother's whistle painfully against her wrist.
"You're going to need to calm down," Mabel's struggle winded him, pressing her back flat against the winter-bitten dock planks. Her tail flops from underneath him, tail slamming down with great force. He leans all his weight in one knee to restrain her; he's rather surprised by the girl's strength and her mortal will in wanting to hide and protect her life.
She's too angry to discover she's been crying, wet hair pressed to her hollow cheeks. Her gills flair out with stress, leaving Tad to calculate how much water Mabel will need on his trip back to the cabin and how aware he was to claiming her as his. It gets so lonely when the only person who would talk to him was a brother who countered opposite to all of his beliefs.
Once Mabel settles under his weight, his dreary, emotionless face staring down on her, he begins to talk again. This time, consoling her for something that was his fault. "You're alright, yes? I'm not hurting you, am I? It'll be over soon. I promise. Must be dreadfully cold at the bottom of the lake."
One hand moves to pin both of her wrist down to the dock, leaving a free hand to trace the side of her face; curious, his gloved fingers grace over freshly fallen tears. "As I thought: sea glass," Tad hums, his thumb brushing away the squeezed tears from the corner of her eyes; he pulls away to show her his findings, a dash of amusement hidden away in his plain vocal cords. "Mermaids are interesting creatures. Tears that form riches. They're pretty enough, but you don't need to cry."
Mabel ignores his suggestion, railing against his hold again, loathing the way he pressed her down; how dare an oblivious demon tell her what she can and cannot do? Tad fights to keep his hold, huffing out in frustration, "Settle down, Mabel. All will be well, I promise you."
"My brother! You killed him!" Mabel fights back, throat raw and strained; bile begins to crawl up the back of her throat, and she has to swallow it back down.
"All will be well," the demon repeats, voice falling flat. With haunted will, the palm of his hand lays over her eyes, flooding her with deep sleep. "Just go to sleep."
Dreams truly were on his side.