Chapter Text
The weeks passed and turned into months as Mabel eased bit by bit into her new nomadic lifestyle. She learned to take the adventure of life in stride alongside her grunkle on their travels, often sleeping under the stars in search of replacement parts for the Quantum Destabilizer for their end mission of destroying Cipher once and for all. It was important to always stay one step ahead of the local law enforcement of any inhabited dimension they hopped into because building a god killing weapon wasn’t exactly legal. She learned to keep her head low but always on a swivel. It was the Pines vs The World but Mabel didn’t mind, there was nothing she felt the two of them couldn’t accomplish together. It was just like camping, in a way.
The teenage girl’s eyes wandered across the sun baked square of mud bricks and adobe shops and landed on a board of tattered wanted posters that crackled in the scorching winds of Dimension 23-C. Ford and her had made a habit of looking them over when they could to gauge just how wanted he was in the place they had found themselves in. Something was different about this board though, there was a crisp, non sun-bleached piece of paper right next to Ford’s dirty old poster. Mabel squealed and ran up to it.
“Grunkle Ford! I finally got my own wanted poster next to yours!” She gushed, bringing the parchment over to him so he could see with a braces-less grin, her yellow bandana with the embroidered pattern of a watermelon on it hanging down around her neck.
Ford, who was in the middle of purchasing more arrows for Mabel from one of the few street vendors in the small village, looked equal parts amused and concerned, as if each emotion was battling for dominance on his face.
The feline man handing Ford the bundle of crystalline arrows froze and gave him an alarmed look.
“Do you think Katee would be proud? Or what about Stan or Dipper?” She laughed.
Grunkle Ford quickly took the arrows without so much as another word to the vendor and handed them to her. “I’m not sure Katee would completely approve. Now put it back.” Was his reply.
“Ooh these arrowtips are all sparkly! You know me so well.” She beamed at him.
“I’m glad you like them. Now we can head off to the factory.”
“Aww c’mon Grunkle Ford, we got all day to hike out there. I wanna see the sights and do as the people do. Eat their food, drink their drinks, and learn their songs and dances and all that junk.” The teen chimed, sticking her wanted poster back up near Ford’s with a sparkling industrial strength shooting star sticker.
“Yes, we’ll have time for that after, I’ll make sure of it. But first, we need to gather a new protective body for the Quantum Destabilizer.” He remarked, patting the damaged gun that hung off the side of his pack in a protective black sac, Cipher’s hands having been removed.
“I know that, you’ve reminded me about a bazillion times since we got here.” The girl complained.
“Then let’s head out, shall we?” The sooner we leave the sooner we can return.”
Before she could respond, the ground beneath their feet rumbled and a large industrial truck rolled up into the village square. A group of about two dozen or so mean and hardened looking feline aliens, clothed in grimy factory uniforms, stepped out. The street vendors and villagers fled indoors at their arrival, leaving their belongings behind. Ford grabbed Mabel by the arm and drug her into the shadow of the nearest building along with him. The gang of newcomers spread out, looking for stragglers and raiding and destroying the vendor’s stands, stealing everything of value. They passed right by Ford and Mabel, oblivious to their existence. As it turned out, wearing all black did have its perks from time to time. One poor soul wasn’t quick enough though to escape, and they were grabbed and dragged into the middle of the square.
Mabel looked up at Ford and whispered, “Grunkle Ford, let’s go kick their butts.”
“I wish we could. But there’s too many for the two of us to handle.” He whispered back.
The villager was then forced to empty their pockets to the bullies, who then proceeded to beat the guy senseless and leave him in the street. As quickly as they had come, the gang left with their bounty and drove off into the desert. The villagers poked their heads out apprehensively, wondering if the swift terror had yet left them.
“Stay here.” Ford commanded. He walked out into the open, blaster drawn, and approached the half dead alien. Seeing Ford step out unharmed, the village residents ran out to the aid of their injured kin and to check the damage done to their home. Ford helped the wounded villager into the arms of the natives and returned to Mabel in the shadows.
Her eyes were welled up with tears. The violence she had just witnessed had shook her deeply. Those poor people! They were just minding their own business when all of the sudden some big bully came along and hurt them. Her heart ached for that poor man who couldn’t escape.
“Grunkle Ford…” She squeaked.
“Yes, I know. It’s quite tragic. I wish there was something we could have done. Unfortunately, these two factions have been fighting for decades.”
“But why? Why fight?”
“Well, from what I pieced together on my last journey here, once the Multiversal Alliance overthrew the planet, one group of natives began mining the rich ores here and converted it into military grade armor for vehicles that is then sold to said government. The other group, the minority, like in this village and desert tribes beyond, opposes that decision. Their disagreement has resulted in a turf war that goes back decades.” He clasped his hands behind his back and continued in a bluer tone, “I would have to hypothesize this was a random attack from the factory side meant to shake up villagers. They’re probably coming back soon with greater numbers. For our own safety, we should leave now.”
Mabel sighed gloomily as they passed the outermost buildings in the tiny village and out into the blazing red rock desert stretching past the horizon in all directions. Deep down, she knew it was the rational choice to move out now. It was early morning, before it got actually hot outside and made traveling dangerous. If they were to leave any later they could find themselves exposed to the elements in temperatures soaring high enough to easily kill or in the clutches of a bloodthirsty mob. So it wasn’t Ford she was upset with so much as it was the situation. Still, she wished there was something they could do. They were embarking on a multi day expedition and she wanted to learn the culture after just spending a week traveling here and help the poor villagers in the aftermath of the random attack. They would have to walk off road out to the factory that made the armor, which was the same direction the attackers had retreated in. Ford had acquired a sheet of the stuff from this very dimension some thirty years ago when he was first putting together his weapon capable of killing Bill. Now three decades later, he was back for more. They would learn the way the factory worked, when the guards changed, when shifts changed, where the weak spots were. Then, they would sneak in, grab some armor, and sneak out.
The burning sun moseyed higher in the sky, shining brighter and more intensely by the hour. Mabel’s thoughts turned more hopeful, maybe they would get a chance to kick the bad guys’ butts at the factory. Yeah, that sounded like a great idea and it made her smile. The gritty, stony ground beneath her feet turned sandy while they walked between the rusty sandstone hills, occasionally their red color broken up by streaks of silver ore along the surface that was so abundant here. The sand lessened the grip she had on the ground and made it more difficult for her to walk. Sweat accumulated under her cloak and sweater and beaded on her forehead and soaked her scalp, the heat flushing her cheeks and making her feel like she was baking in an oven set to the maximum temperature. With the dark clothing she wore now, she was certain she would begin experiencing heatstroke. It was time to take some layers off.
“Hang on Grunkle Ford, I’m cooking alive. I’m taking some clothes off.” Mabel informed him, sitting down in the shadow of a gigantic cactus.
Ford sat beside her wordlessly, also in the shade. His face was equally flushed and sweat soaked his hair, making it look floppier than normal. Mabel stuffed her cloak, sweater, and skirt into her bag, wearing just her lavender t-shirt and leggings. Then she took a long swing from her canteen and rested, allowing the evaporation of her perspiration to cool her. She looked at Grunkle Ford, who looked quite miserable in the heat and layers of black clothing he wore. Mabel put a hand to his forehead and he startled, obviously too lost in thought to see her hand coming. Her hand came away slick with sweat.
“Aw gross. You’re all hot and sweaty.” Mabel complained.
Ford looked at her perplexedly. “Well, what were you expecting?”
“I wasn’t expecting you to be burning alive. You should really lighten your clothing or you’re gonna get heat stroke and die on me.”
“I’m doing just fine.”
“Your drenched hair and heavy breathing says otherwise.”
“I guess you’re right.” Ford shed his heavy trench coat and shoved it into his bag.
Mabel frowned. “Aw c’mon, there’s no way you’re comfortable with your sweater still on. I was dying with my sweater on.”
Ford took a long drink from his canteen. “Mabel, I appreciate your concern but I’m very capable of taking care of myself.” He notified and stepped out into the hot sun.
“Grunkle Ford, I know you and I know that’s a lie.”
The old man barked a laugh. “What makes you say that?”
“You wouldn’t sleep if it weren’t for me keepin’ you on a schedule. Remember when you were so tired you fell into an icy river and I had to save you?”
Ford pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, I remember.”
Mabel stood and adjusted her pack on her shoulders. The duo continued their trek through the dusty red and silver streaked landscape for another hour or so before the sun hit its peak in the light blue sky. It was so bright Mabel had to squint to see where she was going. Despite the shed layers, she still found herself all sticky and gross from her sweating and desperately wishing there was a nearby pool to jump into. A day at the pool sounded like heaven right about now. Her eyes scanned the landscape hoping against all odds there might be a pool of water nearby. There was no water to be found but she did find something almost as good. With a shout of excitement, and Ford shushing her, the teenage girl pointed out a small shady cave just big enough for them to take shelter in during the peak hours of the day carved into the sandstone hills.
“Mabel, how many times do I have to tell you to keep your voice down? Who knows what’s out here.” Ford reminded.
“It’s so hot the only things out here are us.” She responded, laying down to bask in the cooler air of the tiny indent in the side of the hill.
“Us and predators designed to survive in this climate.” He grumbled.
“You’re just grumpy because you’re hot in your clothes.”
Ford rolled his eyes good naturedly and concluded that Mabel did have a point. He was absolutely melting in his clothes. But he wasn’t going to take his sweater off. It kept him safe and covered his skin, which he had to admit he was pretty self conscious of. He didn’t like the idea of exposing his scar and tattoo riddled arms and neck to the whole world. Keeping them under his sweater was safer and just better.
“You’d feel a lot better if you just wore a t-shirt like me, I bet.” Mabel prodded, laying facedown on the ground to radiate the heat off of herself and into the cold ground.
“Your hair is getting long. It needs to be cut again.” Ford grumbled.
Mabel giggled. “Wow I think the heat’s gone to your head.”
He took a swing from his canteen. “You should drink some water.”
“Oh, right.” The girl took a long sip of water. “But really,” she continued as she screwed the lid back on, “I think you should take off that sweater. It’s too hot out for it.”
He sighed. “I’d rather not.”
Mabel looked up at him curiously, “Is it because of your tattoos? And scars?”
Ford looked down at her and smiled, once again surprised by her intuition and ability to read his body language. How she was so good at it he didn’t know.
“Yes it is.” He admitted.
Mabel propped herself up on her elbows and kicked her feet lazily behind her. “Grunkle Ford, I think that every person is beautiful and that includes you too. You can’t hide your scars and tattoos, they’re part of your story. Your story needs to be told!”
“I appreciate the sentiment but my sweater isn’t coming off.”
“You shouldn’t have to hide from the world. You can be okay with who you are!”
“No thank you.”
The girl frowned dramatically at him. So Ford was being stubborn, what was new? But she could be stubborn too.
“Please? Please? Please? Please? Please…” Mabel begged over and over.
“No, Mabel.” Ford said in a more serious voice. He quite disliked it whenever she began begging like a young child.
Well, drastic times did call for drastic measures. If Grunkle Ford wouldn’t see the error of his ways then maybe he just needed a little bit of motivation from a different source.
“Well I guess I’ll just have to dump out my canteen until that black sweater of yours comes off!” She retorted in a testing tone, picking up her canteen.
Before she could blink, Ford had swooped in and snatched up her canteen away from her before she could even unscrew the lid. She made a sound of protest and threw her hands out.
“Hey!”
“Mabel, that’s enough. Don’t be ridiculous. This water is a lifeline, don’t you understand that?” Ford barked seriously.
Ugh, she could be so stubborn sometimes it was infuriating. The way she teased him and pushed his buttons in a good natured but irritating way reminded him so much of Stan sometimes. He didn’t love that. But a small part in the back of his mind was nostalgic for it, as irritating as it might be. The same part of his mind that, on occasion, weakly spoke up and whispered that he missed Stanley or that he wanted to see him again and be brothers and- ugh. Stop. Ford shook his head and his thoughts away with the movement.
“Yeah, of course I understand.” Mabel smiled.
“Then why would you want to get rid of it?”
“Because you’re overheating in your clothes and you weren’t going to listen to me with just my words. I needed to take action.” She dictated, bringing a fist down on an open palm for emphasis.
Ford just sighed exasperatedly in response. He pulled an old tattered journal that had accompanied him for about two years now and had been repaired more than once, looking more or less like someone had thrown it off a cliff at this point, out of his pack. It was just one he could jot down notes and thoughts while there was downtime. Just because he was a vagabond living in other worlds didn’t mean he was ever going to give up on his hobbies of writing and drawing.
“...Do you wanna play cards?” Mabel tried after some silence.
“No, you’re grounded.”
Mabel was flabbergasted. “What? For how long?”
“Until I feel you’ve learned your lesson about conserving valuable resources.”
Well, Mabel suddenly didn’t feel like sharing the small shaded room with Grunkle Ford anymore. With a huff, she got up and left the protection of the cave, choosing to rock climb up the stony hill using small holes and notches eroded away in the sandstone. She hardly heard Ford’s, “Don’t stay out too long” as she left. It was absolutely burning out here but she could bear it so long as she didn’t have to be near Ford. Just for a minute so she could think. Sitting down atop the hill, she picked up nearby rock and chucked it as far as she could with a scowl, which was pretty far considering the daily workouts she now did with Ford. Mabel sighed, taking out a notebook and trying to occupy her mind by doodling a variety of shooting stars. It didn’t work as well as she would have liked it because her brain kept running along with the same frustrated train of thought. She was only trying to help Ford after all. For all his talk on survival and saving water and yadda yadda he sure didn’t seem super keen on adjusting his outfit for the weather. Plus, he would feel so much better about himself once he accepted his own skin. She frowned, chewing on a strand of hair which was now just barely long enough to fit in her mouth and staring out across the desert for several minutes. A bolt of anxiety abruptly struck through her at the thought of cutting it again, shaking her from her vague thoughts. Earlier, she had thought Ford was joking but now she realized he must have had some seriousness underlying what he had said. She really wasn’t ready for another haircut after the last one. Not ready at all. A small gasp left her when a thought zapped into her head and she had a small eureka moment. Grunkle Ford wasn’t ready to show the world his scars and tattoos yet just like she wasn’t ready for a haircut. It wouldn’t be nice to force him to do something he wasn’t ready for. Well, now she felt rather sorry.
Careful not to slip and fall down the steep, baking hill face, the teen girl descended slowly and walked back into the cave with her shoulders hunched and skin beaded with perspiration. Ford gave her a glance, one where he was trying to not be upset with her but she could still see the lingering anger behind it, before returning to his journal. Feeling rather silly, she sat on the floor next to him.
“...I’m sorry for pushing you. I guess you’re just not ready yet.” Mabel muttered.
Ford raised his brows slightly in surprise. He hadn’t expected her to be remorseful. “Thank you.” He responded genuinely. After a few seconds of silence he spoke up again, “Would you like to play a game of poker?” He invited.
The teen smiled cheekily at him. “Well, that depends. Am I ungrounded?”
He sighed. “Yes, you are officially ungrounded.”
Mabel’s face brightened up to above the intensity of the sun. “Yeah! Get ready old man, I’m about to kick your butt.”
Ford chuckled. “You always do.”
“Yeah, well you always beat me in blackjack so it’s fair.”
Nestled up in the only bit of shade around, the two of them set up a game of poker that Mabel would surely win. Ford took a bag of marbles from his pack they used to wager with. She always beat him with her superior poker face and he had yet to win a game against her. Not only that, but Ford had a sneaking suspicion that she cheated like there was no tomorrow but he had yet to catch her in the act so his theory would just have to remain that, a theory, for now. As the hours passed and the flaming noon air turned cooler, much laughter filled the small cave as the two relatives enjoyed each others’ company once again.
The afternoon sun turned over to an evening one and the duo packed up their gear and continued on their journey out to the military factory. Heat rose off from the red rocks in waves that reminded Mabel of an open interdimensional portal. Tiny reptilian critters, no longer than her hand, scampered along on two legs in the cooling air, kicking up dust as they ran past. She and Ford stopped momentarily to look at the adorable little footprints they left in the sand before continuing and spending the next ten minutes or so hypothesizing on what the diets of said creatures must be. In the final twinkling moments of twilight, they rose up the final hill that overlooked the factory below. Mabel and Ford laid down, careful not to be spotted and each took out a pair of binoculars and began to observe.
The whole place was absolutely enormous and easily the size of a small town and all lit up with massive industrial pole lights. Three gigantic industrial warehouse sized buildings lined up one after another, each with crews of hundreds of workers. As they watched, the raw, processed glittering ore was deposited by the truckload, by the same type that rolled into the village earlier where its occupants had terrorized the residents. The ore then entered the first building and turned into a more refined version of the metal. The stuff was then carried by hovercraft to the second building, and then another before it emerged as dark sheets of some of the strongest armor in the known Multiverse. That was what he was going to use to repair the outer shell of his Cipher killing weapon. The area closest to them was a docking yard for enormous cargo space ships that were loaded up with the manufactured armor to be shipped off all across the Multiverse. Guards seemed to be few and far between, only stationed at the entrances and exits of the warehouses. This would be easy pickings Mabel thought.
The teen set down her binoculars and looked to Ford, who was busying himself drawing a map of the entire complex.
“Don’t forget those two guards on the east side.” She informed.
“Oh, right.” He said, and turned to her once he jotted them down. “I’ll take first watch and observe their movements and then I’ll wake you in six hours and we’ll swap.”
“How do I know you’re gonna wake me up at all? You need to pinky promise me you’ll wake me up in six hours.” She declared, holding out her pinky. Ford crossed his own pinky with hers and they shook hands.
“Alright, I promise.” Ford assured.
“Good. I’ll go make camp. Goodnight Grunkle Ford.” And with that, she descended down the hill to find a flat spot to sleep for the night.
“Remember, no fires. We don’t want to be spotted.” Ford called out.
“Got it!”
Ford did indeed wake her up six hours later in the early morning hours while it was still dark and cold, the sun having yet to bake the earth. She took over watch on the factory until Ford awoke and production stopped altogether during the hottest hours of the day. When the factory came back to life that evening, they were ready to enact their plan. Sneaking into the furthest warehouse during the changing of the guards had been a piece of cake. Once inside, everything was so loud and busy no one took notice of the two interlopers among the heavy machinery and conveyor belts. Well, not until Ford had nabbed a blowtorch and started melting off a piece from an armor sheet small enough to fit their needs. As it turns out, when your grunkle hops up onto a conveyor belt in a big factory and starts blowtorching, people do take notice of you. It wasn’t Mabel’s idea, she had expressed enthusiasm in asking the manager if they could buy some of the stuff instead and maybe light the place on fire on the way out but Ford had shot it down, stating that if they knew who they were their cover would be blown and they wouldn’t be getting what they came for. Well, their cover seemed pretty blown to Mabel anyways at the moment. That’s why they were running for their lives from an angry mob of factory workers across a shipyard, wasn’t it?
Ford’s grip on the chunk of armor loosened as he ran and he nearly dropped it. Mabel fired a crossbow bolt vaguely behind herself, hoping it wouldn’t actually hit anybody anywhere vital but still deter their pursuers from continuing their chase. The weather that day had been rather breezy so the strong winds blew her arrow off course and over the heads of the crowd.
“Mabel, I have an idea!” Ford yelled.
“An idea? What kind of- eep!” She made a surprised noise when Ford suddenly scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder with one arm so she faced the upset crowd that chased them.
“Shoot at them while I run!” Ford commanded.
“Shoot them? Grunkle Ford, I’m not shooting them! Even if they’re bad guys!”
“Bad guys who want our heads!” A thrown wrench flew past Mabel’s head as if it were trying to drive Ford’s point home.
Ok, maybe Grunkle Ford was right. So it was time for some self defense it seemed. Still, she wasn’t going to kill anybody. Mabel fired another arrow and a gust of wind drove it into the ground. Okay, that was no big deal, she’d just try again. Grabbing an arrow out of her quiver with one hand and holding her crossbow with the other while being slung over Ford’s shoulder while he ran up a hill was more difficult than she would have thought. After a few failed attempts, she yanked the ammunition from the quiver and reloaded. This time she accounted for the swirling winds and landed a shot right in the calf of one of the men. He fell to the ground, taking several people with him in the process. Success! The teen beamed with pride at her landed shot.
The wind was really starting to pick up now and it took fistfulls of gritty sand with it that pelted their faces like miniature darts to a dart board that stung like heck. Not only that, but the visibility of the surrounding area was starting to diminish under the haze of tens of thousands of sand particles traveling along violently in the winds. Mabel noticed through the gusty weather that their pursuers had begun to retreat, shouting and gesturing to one another to fall back.
“Aha! Victory! Ugh- pbbbbbt.” The teen’s victory was short-lived when dozens of invasive, miniscule, particles of rock found their way into her open mouth and up her nose when she turned her head over her shoulder and faced the wind. When had her bandana fallen off?
“Looks like a sandstorm is rolling in. Cover your face, Mabel. We need to seek shelter immediately.” Ford yelled over the roaring of the approaching weather, setting her down.
Mabel didn’t need to be told to put her bandana back on by Grunkle Ford. She had already done so by the time he was done shouting. The duo continued their trek across the dunes as the wind picked up to dangerous speeds that gradually blotted the sun out of the sky like the apocalypse and reduced visibility to mere feet in front of them, the only thing to be seen was a sheet of dusty red that choked her. The air current whipped at her ears and all she could hear was the noises of mountains of sand particles grating against each other as they were carried along swiftly in the storm, their sharp edges ready to pierce whoever may be unlucky enough to get in the way, which just so happened to be her. Sand particles barraged her by the thousands and found their way in all the cracks and crevices of her outfit, began filling her boots, and rendered her unable to do anything but put her head down, lest the storm sting her exposed skin with its kinetic particles, and be led blindly by Grunkle Ford, who may as well also be blind in this scenario. At least he had goggles. He tried to yell something to her but his voice was drowned out by the howling winds. Mabel could infer the danger they were in all too well, though. They were traveling blind out here, like a raft in the ocean without paddles tossed violently in choppy waves as a terrible cyclone pelted them with sheets of rain. The possibility of becoming hopelessly lost was all too real. Maybe they would become buried and lost to the dunes.
Her feet suddenly touched something firm; solid sandstone. As the duo blindly stumbled forward, the rushing in her ears subsided and the assault of the sandy particles subsided significantly and all was still in the dust choked air. Mabel coughed a few times and shook the particles that had seemingly been focused on imbedding themselves in her hair and ears. If she were covered in as much water as she was sand, she would have been drenched. Looking around, it looked like they had, by sheer luck, stumbled into a ruin of some sort out in the desert. Well good, that meant they had a roof over their head to keep them out of the weather now.
“It looks like the storm dug up a portion of a buried structure.” Ford’s voice echoed in the space in nerdy fascination as he turned on the flashlight of his Multipurpose Portaling Device. A disappointed look crossed his face when the beam of light did nothing but illuminate the dust.
He sat cross legged on the ground and poured an amount of sand no one should ever have in their shoes from his boots with a frown. Mabel made herself comfortable on a nearby fallen portion of the ceiling and also rid her shoes as best as she could from the gritty stuff as the winds roared just outside, kicking up dust and leaving the room perpetually cloudy.
Ford stood once they were both finished. “Come along, we should head further in where the air is hopefully clearer.”
“Okie dokie.”
She hopped off her rock and followed alongside her Grunkle to head deeper into the building. The two of them hadn’t taken more than a dozen steps before the rocky floor gave under their combined weight and sent them plummeting down into the dark. Mabel flailed and grabbed helplessly at the roots and cobwebs that scraped and scratched relentlessly through her clothes as she fell screaming. No, she couldn’t die. She was too young to die! And too adorable! Blind panic was the only thing going through her head for a solid three seconds before her fall finally came to a stop in a twist of plant matter. Mabel heard Grunkle Ford groan beside her and he illuminated the ground beneath them. Miraculously, they had been caught only a few feet from the hard ground, which was intricately carved in geometric patterns on the red marble bricks, grimy with age. He hopped the final short distance to the floor and then turned to help Mabel, who was trying hopelessly to free herself from the tangle of roots.
“I got you. Don’t worry.” He said and grabbed her from the plant clutches that held her captive and set her on the ground.
Grunkle Ford picked a few twigs from his fluffy hair. “Well, that was certainly… unexpected.”
“Yeah, you could say that again.” Mabel concurred, drawing her own flashlight from her bag. She opted to keep the twigs in her hair, they made a fashion statement about cheating death just now.
The pair shone their flashlights around to take in the sights. From what Mabel could see, they appeared to have fallen deep inside a tall rectangular room made up of red sandstone with a spiraling staircase leading up at the far end, most of its steps eroded to mere nubs from the trickle of water that flowed down it. Every surface was ancient, the floor growing stalagmites taller than Ford in some places and massive stalactites hung from the high ceiling. The air was stale like death and smelled like the earth the same way a cave might. Tiny shards of pottery remained strewn about among the small piles of sand that had wedged their way down over the millenniums. The tiny stream from the stairs came to a rest at a long and narrow deep and dark body of water that slept stillful along one wall, its surface reflecting a sandstone mural split down the middle to show two images at odds with each other. The art that once covered the other walls had faded so long ago they were now gone and replaced with black grime, their faces wet and weeping. But the pool mural was left untouched and pristine despite being made of the same sandstone that had crumbled so easily in other places.
On the left was a gigantic smiling pink lizard sort of thing with its tongue sticking out all silly like. Six red frills, three on each side, erupted from the sides of its head like a majestic mane. It lazed its long body out gracefully across the colorful sunset clouds and blue sky that made up the background. Beneath the creature was a paragraph of alien symbols arranged in vertical lines starting evenly along the bottom. A night sky of clouds and stars separated the left and right half of the mural. On the right side was a figure Mabel knew all too well. In the red-pink cloudy morning sky, Bill Cipher levitated with outstretched arms holding almost blindingly bright blue fire. Interestingly enough, his eye had been X’d out in the carving with the same level of careful attention the rest of the art was given, seemingly intentionally. Another paragraph of the same strange text was carved underneath.
“Incredible…” Ford mused.
Mabel had to admit the scene was quite spooky looking with nothing but the flashlight to light up the crumbling, leaky place. But the mural of Bill hiding out in the dark made her uneasy so she drew all her attention to the salamander thingie on the left. It seemed to stare playfully back at her with its beady black eyes.
“Where do you think we are?” She thought aloud.
“If I’m not mistaken, I do believe we’ve found ourselves in a temple of the Axolotl. They’re relatively common throughout the Multiverse although their specific architectural structure and artwork will differ from dimension to dimension. Furthermore-”
Mabel quit listening fully to her grunkle ramble, knowing full well he would chatter on for several more minutes. His voice faded into the background while she looked around, shining her light at everything. So, a temple of the Axolotl. And a really old one at that. Well that was just super cool. Were they the first ones to discover this place after the sands had buried it who knows how long ago? Were they now adventurers discovering the secrets of an ancient religious structure lost to time? Did that mean she was an archaeologist now? The questions came down like a waterfall in her curious mind and she let them flow freely.
“I wonder what those symbols mean.” She dictated, pointing to the mural.
“They’re unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. I honestly have no idea how I’d even begin to translate them.” Ford admitted from the edge of the pool.
The teen girl shone her flashlight around in the damp space, her eye catching an intact looking piece of pottery poking out from a heap of sand in one corner that piqued her interest. Pretending to be an archaeologist on a dig, she dug the piece out as carefully as she could and was disappointed to not find more vase attached under the sand. Well, that wasn’t going to stop Dr. Mabel Pines, PhD in Alien Archaeology. She dug more and her fingers hit something hard that definitely wasn’t sand. Gingerly she pulled a knife out of the dusty pile. It had a glossy pink wooden handle, the same kind as the few hardy trees that grew here, that reflected the light of the flashlight. The blade itself was about the length of her forearm, bone white with a stony texture, and had a slight curve like the tooth of a dragon. Several alien runes were carved along the length in the same script as the mural. Woah. Jackpot!
“Grunkle Ford, look what I found!” Mabel exclaimed, holding the knife above her head.
Ford looked from the disturbed pile of sand to Mabel and then to the knife, “That’s incredible, let me see,” and jogged over.
Ford took the knife in his hands and brushed the symbols along the blade, his eyebrows scrunched together indicating that he was deep in thought. He rubbed his chin in contemplation.
“What is it, Grunkle Ford? Can you read what it says?” Mabel asked after a minute of silence.
“...These symbols. They’re the same ones that are carved into the metal plate in my head.”
“So can you read it?”
“I cannot.” He slid his thumb over the symbols once more before giving it back to Mabel. “It looks like you have a beautiful new blade.”
The girl took the weapon in her hands and a curious thought came to her mind. She compared the symbols on the blade with the tiny ones on the bell she kept around her neck and found them to be identical. So the symbols on her bells, Ford’s metal plate, and the knife all matched. That was an interesting discovery if she did say so herself. With deepened curiosity, she put the necklace back on and traced her finger over the symbols on her blade in speculative thought. Suddenly, it began to glow with soft pink light that radiated energy, warming her hands, and lighting up the surrounding area around itself like a lantern.
“Oh, wow! I did something!”
“Intriguing. May I take a look?”
“Yeah sure. Here you go.” Mabel handed the blade over. The second she did so the blade went dark.
“Hm, what did you do that got it to glow?” Ford asked, turning the thing over in his hands.
“I dunno, I just traced the symbols with my finger and then, boom, it lit up.”
Ford ran his finger along the runes and nothing happened. When he tried it again and still nothing happened he asked, “Why don’t you show me?”
The girl took the blade gently from his hands and traced the runes just the way she had before and the knife once again bathed the surrounding area in a warm pink glow that warmed her hands and forearms with its heat. “See, just like that. That’s all I did.”
She gave the weapon back to Ford and it went dark when it transferred into his hands. The old man copied Mabel’s actions exactly and nothing happened. He tried again and still nothing. “Very odd. Perhaps it’s attuned itself to you?” Ford held it up to his flashlight, inspecting it once more. “Oh! Or, what if it’s sentient?” He asked with much enthusiasm.
“Hello? Can you hear me? Do you understand what I’m saying?” The old man inquired of the knife.
Mabel laughed, “You’re talking to my knife? You’re so weird.”
Ford looked the tiniest bit hurt at her playful mocking. “Well,” he began somewhat defensively, “do you remember what I told you about traveling dimensions? You know nothing. We know nothing about this knife. For all we know, it could be sentient. Weirder things have happened.”
Content in his explanation, Ford waited a few more moments for the knife to respond and then gave it back to his great niece when the blade gave no indication of ever hearing him. Now taking her grunkle’s advice, she decided to shoot her shot too at communicating with a possibly sentient weapon. Ford did have a pretty good point; they knew nothing about this place and she was being a scientist discovering its hidden treasures. So she had to rule out the possibility that her weapon was sentient like any good scientist would.
“Helloooo? Anybody in there?” She tried, tapping on the blade with her knuckles. To her bewilderment, the blade lit up.
“What?” Ford articulated, quite astonished.
“Aha! It likes me!”
“...Yes it does.”
“You’re jealous that it likes me and doesn’t like you.”
“No.”
“You are!” She grinned.
Ford sighed. “Alright, maybe a little.” He smiled.
“It likes me! It likes me! It likes me!” Mabel began singing, parading her weapon around the room.
Ford chuckled good naturedly and watched his great niece enjoy this discovery. His gaze drifted to the mural and to Bill Cipher and a chill went up his spine. Despite the X carved into the eye, it was as if He was staring right back at him through the sandstone. Okay, this place was getting spooky. It was time to leave. He pointed his flashlight towards the stairs. “Mabel, I know you’re having a great time but perhaps it’s time for us to climb out of here?”
“-It likes me! It likes me! Oh. Yeah, right. Let’s go.”
He took her hand in his and they more so climbed than walked up the ancient, slick staircase with the condition the thing was in. After ascending several stories and after Mabel had almost dropped her knife back into the depths for the third time, Ford asked, “Why don’t you just tuck it into your belt?”
“There’s no more room on my belt with my quiver and grappling hook already there.”
“Let me hold it for now then.”
“No way!”
Ford rolled his eyes, “Well then you better not drop it then because we’re not going back for it if you do.”
“I won’t Grunkle Ford. Don’t worry.” Mabel nearly dropped her knife again the second she finished speaking.
After another minute or so of climbing, they came across the top of the staircase and faced a room almost identical to the last one, all the way down to the mural and pool, albeit the pool was filled with sand instead and the place was much newer looking but still old. Many of the murals on the walls had faded with age but yet again, the mural depicting the Axolotl and Bill remained pristine. The far end was open to the night sky, bathing the whole room in silver moonlight. Mabel sauntered over to a hole in the ground in the middle of the rectangular room and shone her flashlight straight down the root infested tunnel.
“Hey, this must be where we fell earlier.” She observed. So they must have been back at the top of the ruin but this time with all the dust now cleared and the sandstorm passed. That made sense.
“Indeed it is. Be careful, you don’t want to fall again.” He rubbed his chin in thought and continued, “I’m sure with a few adjustments I could attach your grappling hook to the bottom of your crossbow.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“So you have room to sheath your knife.”
Mabel took out her grappling hook and held it in one hand and her blade in the other. Her grappling hook had been her trusty companion that had gotten her and Dipper out of a tricky situation more than once and had saved their lives. It was something she cherished, one of the few belongings she still had from back home. A part of her wanted to keep it just the way it was to remind her of Gravity Falls. But perhaps it was time for an upgrade. Her grappling hook would still remain a grappling hook even if it was modified to attach to her crossbow.
“...Okay.” She breathed and handed over her grappling hook and crossbow to Ford.
He took the objects from her hands and sat on the same rock Mabel had not too long ago. Setting her possessions beside him, he began digging around in his backpack searching for his tools. Mabel watched him struggle, you would think that after thirty years he would have mastered organizing his backpack but nope.
Watching Ford comb through his pack got boring pretty quickly so she turned to the starlit sky in front of her, watching the stars of the early night twinkle. Eventually, she got bored of that too and wandered towards the Axolotl and Bill mural.
“Oh, hey! I can read this one!” She exclaimed and trotted up to it. Ford had been teaching her to read the Universal Text used commonly throughout the Multiverse over the last few months and she was eager to put her knowledge to the test.
She started at the left, “Wind, water... ra-di-ance, and gr-growth. This is our Lord Ax-ol-otl. He pro-protects us from evil. We shall not stray.” She moved to the other side. “With terri- um, terrible fire and li-light-ning Bill Cipher brings death. W-wo-w…”
“Woe.” Ford helped, waltzing up to her, modified crossbow in hand.
“Woe be upon they who falls for his tr-tricks.” She beamed up at him.
“Very good. Now, let me know what you think of this.” He handed the crossbow back to her.
He had attached the barrel of her grappling hook to the underside of the front of the crossbow’s barrel and managed to get the line to tuck up inside the gun itself. Just above the trigger to fire her bolts was now a button that hadn’t been there before. Curiously, she pressed it, and her grappling hook fired out into the desert.
“Oh, okay so it does that.” She noted, following the path the hook took to the outside with her eyes. They grew wide as saucers when she noticed the celestial happenings in the sky. “Ohmygoshlook!” Mabel yelled, grabbing Ford by the arm, yanking him outside, and retracting her hook.
Standing out from the backdrop of the starry night sky were dozens of brilliant white meteors that streaked across the sky in glimmers that lit up as they burned in the atmosphere. Some only appeared for a split second before fizzling out completely and others flew across the entirety of the night, blazing and undeterred by the friction they endured. Those ones had the intensity of a miniature sun all on their own and lit up the ground like a full supermoon with enough energy to cast shadows on Mabel and Ford while they fluttered by. More debris continued to fall from the heavens across the dotted sky for several minutes, blessing the two tight knit humans alone under the amazing sky with their presence.
Ford sat down in the sand cross legged to watch the show. Mabel sat down beside him, resting her head on his shoulder.
“It’s quite breathtaking.” Ford whispered.
“It’s so beautiful!” The teen exclaimed.
The duo sat in contemplative, companionate silence just watching the natural beauty of the alien stars. They flared luminously across the blanket of night, steadfast against the burning they experienced while they traveled through the air. In the face of friction and tribulation they shone more radiant and more beautiful, lighting up the area around them with their light, sharing it in such a way that made the weaker nearby meteors more dazzling. Ford turned his head discreetly to get a better look at the magic on Mabel’s face while she gazed upon the sky in awe. The shooting stars reminded him of her, he realized. She had fallen into his life and lit up his world after he had shone dimly for such a long time. Her gleaming spirit remained strong despite all she had been through. His chest filled with a warm, light feeling. Mabel was his, to nurture and to love, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. At the same time, despite what his rational mind may have told him, he suddenly felt inadequate as a caretaker. Through all these months, he had been unable to provide a roof over her head or even regular meals at times. They had run from the law in multiple Dimensions, sometimes going days constantly looking over their shoulders and sleeping with one eye open. A thought stirred again in the back of his mind; perhaps Dimension 52 was better for her. It was safe and free from Cipher’s influence.
Ford cleared his throat awkwardly, “...Mabel, are you happy?”
The girl lifted her head off his shoulder to look at him, her eyes full of searching, “Yeah, I’m happy right now. I’m with you.”
Ford broke eye contact, “Erm, well in general, I mean.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m pretty happy.” She put her head back down on her on his shoulder. “You’re doing a good job as a grunkle, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
A rather lustrous shooting star blazed across the night, lighting up most of the sky.
“Oh.” He said. Mabel must have been a mind reader, he was certain of it.
“...That’s not to say I don’t miss my family and get sad about it sometimes,”
“Well of course.”
She continued, “and get sad about how you don’t like to talk about Grunkle Stan.”
Ford stiffened. He wasn’t expecting or appreciated the abrupt turn this conversation had taken. What was he supposed to say to that? He had lowered his defenses and brought down his walls to be emotionally vulnerable with her and she had just shot him with his walls down, however unintentionally she might have done so. It had felt nice to connect with her but now it was just painful.
Mabel laughed emptily, “See? I felt you squirm.” She began twirling a strand of hair in her fingers nervously.
“...Mabel, could we not talk about it now?”
Mabel sighed, “Alright. But I still think talking about it would make you feel better.” Right, he wasn’t ready for it. She would be waiting and ready to talk when he was.
Ford had talked about it plenty as far as he was concerned. He told his story the night he met Mabel and that was enough. She knew how he felt and that was that. The last thing he wanted to do right now was sour the mood talking about Stanley. Their silence returned, somewhat awkward with tense undertones at first, and slowly shifted back into the companionate quiet as the minutes passed. Mabel’s breathing slowed and calmed against him and quiet snores followed not long after. Ford sat, careful not to disturb her, and examined the landscape. He watched with curiosity when a family of centipede-like critters no longer than his boot skittered nearby, leaving uneven tracks in the sand.
He wasn’t sure how long had passed, maybe a few hours, when a dark shape appeared out of the corner of his eye. Ford jumped, grabbing his blaster and spinning to his feet, startling Mabel awake and sending her to the ground.
