Gravity Rises (S1)

PF: Part Nine

Mabel's face was a snotty mess. Her jeans were soaked through. Her entire body was freezing, except where her breath dissipated across her sweater, which was pulled up around her chin. Even that was only a temporary relief from the biting cold. Her tears were even starting to freeze to her face — she felt them with her cold fingers as she tried to warm her hands with her breath.

She had to move; she had to get out of here; she had to get back to the bunker or somewhere — somewhere out of the cold, somewhere warm. But she couldn't. She couldn't force herself to move any more than a violent shivering. She was just too cold and too hurt to care.

The wind whistled through the trees, rustling pine boughs and dead aspen branches. Maybe it was delirium from the cold, but it almost sounded like there were whispers floating on the wind, swirling around until they reached her ears. Huddled in the snow, all Mabel could do was listen.

Gone, the wind whispered. Gone. Journal — gone. Gideon — gone. Ford — gone. Dipper — gone.

Gone. . .

Gone. . .

Pine tree. . .

Mabel looked around, startled. That last whisper. . . It had been louder. Closer.

It was then, when she lifted her head enough to see her surroundings, that she realized the world had turned grey.

A yellow flash in her periphery jerked her head over to look at it. There, floating above a pine bough, was a bright yellow triangle in a top hat and a bow tie.

Bill Cipher.

Mabel was too shocked — and cold — to say anything. So she just stared.

"Pine Tree," the triangle said, still doing the whispering wind voice, but with multiple layers of sound. Then his eye met Mabel's. "Oh," he said, his voice springing up to normal. "You see me."

"Wh-what do you want?" Mabel tried to say. It came out as a weak breath, barely resembling the words.

Bill seemed to understand her anyway. "To help you, Pine Tree," he said. He floated down from the branch, closer to her. She shied back slightly, but she didn't have enough energy to move far.

"Help me?" she asked. This time, her voice came out a little stronger. It wasn't quite as cold anymore; maybe that had something to do with the greyscale forest. "Y-you helped P-Pa — her."

Bill shrugged his thin black arms. "I'm a free agent. You're in my best interests now, kid."

"Y-you hurt my brother." She wanted to shout it, but she could barely force it from her lungs. So. . . cold. . .

"Ah, yes, your brother. He's the center of all this drama, isn't he?"

"You p-p-probably helped kid-kidnap him," Mabel managed.

Bill gasped. "Me? Kidnap your brother? Nonsense. Pacifica is on her own now, Pine Tree. Like I said, I want to help you."

Mabel breathed into her hands, trying to return the warmth to her fingertips. The heat only lasted for a second. "I-I d-don't want y-y-your help." Her teeth were chattering. "I j-just want my b-br-brother."

"I see," Bill said. "I can arrange that."

His glow suddenly intensified. The yellow light grew lighter and brighter until she could no longer make out Bill, just this white glow that seemed to be taking the shape of—

Dipper.

"N-no!" She forced the word out through her cold lips. The white glow froze; the outline of Dipper's face was visible in its light. She could see the shape of his hair and cheek, framing his eyes. Those eyes, however, weren't his own. Though they were faint, she could see that they were yellow with slitted pupils.