Set between this fic and this fic. For the wonderful @marypsue who deserves it.
——
Dipper looked at the tiny body on the table and wondered
what he should call it.
“Meat sack” was perhaps the most appropriate term for it but
that phrase was… coarse. Dirty. Tainted.
No. This body had a far greater purpose in store.
(This is a bad idea.)
“Creation?” Technically true as well but that was way too
mad scientist for his taste. “Simulacra?” Nope, too ethereal sounding. “Meat
puppet?” Nope, that was even worse than meat sack. “Golem?”
Hmmm. Now that was
closer to the truth.
(You know better.)
There had been magic, copious and quite frankly ridiculous
amounts of it, magic on a scale that humans wouldn’t be able to wield for at
least another two centuries and even then only with the latest in magitech. But
in the end, it had come down to blood, earth and words.
Earth from below the floorboards under the man’s feet, earth
that the girl sprang from.
Earth from Gravity Falls, the place that he was bo- well,
one part, the most important part in this case, was born from.
Blood from the man frozen in time, hand outstretched
clasping only air now. Blood from the girl, too tiny, far too tiny. Blood from
them both to bind him to them.
His blood, golden to their red, his blood to bind him to his
creation, to match his creation in time to the girl.
And finally words. Because in his realm, in the seat of his
power, the heart of his realm, Dipper was God, and his Words rang out with
equal importance.
(Don’t get so fucking full of yourself kid, sheesh.)
Dipper considered once again the body.
No. Golem was close but still not right. Because he had done
one better.
Because this body would shit and piss, eat and breathe, cry
and laugh. Because this wasn’t mere clay but muscle and bone and organs and
skin and hair all crafted into being by his will. Because his creation wasn’t a
stagnant doll but a body, a real actual human body that would grow and age, a
body that was missing only-
Him.
His soul.
Fuck.
He’d have to stick with “meat sack”, it made the most sense.
(You’re too old for this Dipper Pines.)
Not that it would matter. In a few minutes he’d be going to
sleep, and waking up anew. In a few minutes he would be someone brand new,
someone clean of his sins.
In a few minutes he would be a brother again.
Dipper felt a pang of guilt at that thought. He still had
some niblings he was still in contact with, his precious stars that were still
so very precious to him, even though there was so damn many seriously he loved Ida but he thought she had been
kidding when she said she wanted her own baseball team and-
(Rambling. You’re rambling.)
It would hurt them, he knew, to leave without warning. To
disappear without saying goodbye. And if it had been anyone else, if it had
been any other child at the center of this deal, he wouldn’t have even begun to
consider this course of action but.
But.
It was Mabel.
(It is a soul who was
Mabel but has also been many other people aside.)
It was his sister.
And the pain his family would feel was nothing, n͖̳̥̪͢ọ͙̖͔͈̥t̘̖̬̣̻h̗̭͓̣̘͎̻͠i͙̪̲̗̖͙n̦͕͙g̷̣̪
like the pain he had endured without Mabel in his life, Mabel by his side
constantly.
(This is a mistake.)
Enough dithering.
(This is not going to work.)
Time to fulfill his end of the bargain.
He took his new shell from the Mindscape and back into
reality, placing it next to Belle, already doing better thanks to Lionel’s
deal, in her crib. Dipper inhaled, placed his lips onto the puppet, and
exhaled.
(Thirteen years later, thirteen years wiser, thirteen years
knowing better, the end of a vacation, and the remains of his handiwork a
sloppy slurry on the ground and in the backseat of a car.)
backup 