So… I tried to write a short angst fanfic about Mabel and Dipper — what if they were separated for four years. Since my English isn’t very good, my friend translated it for easier reading.
(And I drew a small sketch)
The rain was drumming hard on the roof of the old car as Stan was already approaching to the twins' mother's house.
"The uncle is about to deal with all that shit" — the old man smirked, pushing the creaky door that wouldn't open without this action. A thud. Almost instantly, he disappeared in the impenetrable downpour.
A rumble echoed somewhere close by, and Dipper flinched. Or maybe it was something else. In a couple of minutes Mabel would be sitting beside him. What was he going to say?
Burying his face in his hands, the young man let out a heavy sigh. Nervous tension had parched his mouth and a lump had formed in his throat. His heart was pounding
"Easy, Dipper. It's gonna be fine," he murmured to himself, forcing his voice into a measured whisper.
Shadows danced outside the window. A jolt ran through the car as a trunk slammed shut.
"And you dare to call yourselves parents!?" A man's voice, sharp and muted by the walls, cut through the air, mingling with a thunderclap. Things were clearly turning sour. A moment later, the rear door handle rattled and gave way, framing two figures, soaked to the bone.
"Stan, she'll call the cops!" Dipper went still at the sound of that voice.
"Ah, kid, a stint in the slammer is like a second home to me," Stan Pines laughed. With a hand on the girl's shoulder, he steered her lightly towards the opened door.
Mabel slid into the car seat on autopilot, her gaze blank until it locked with her brother's. A mutual freeze. A lot had changed over the years — seeing his sister in a plain black hoodie, with a nose ring, a bunch of ear piercings, and dark circles under her eyes felt strange. Just as strange as it was for her to see the guy.
"Dip..." she faltered. "Mason?.."
The girl's face twisted into an unreadable grimace, and she fell silent again, meaningfully, searching for words.
"I hate you." The words made her brother jerk back as if struck. "Not a single call? Not one letter in four damn years? Anything!"
"Don't! I don't believe you," Mabel cut him off, her whisper sharp with betrayal and rage. "The Dipper I knew would've found a way. But now…"
Dipper didn't let her finish
"Look who's talking!" he burst out, then instantly reined himself in. "It's always 'Dipper's fault,' right? Well, I actually tried! Can you say the same?"
"You're unbelievable..." came a choked sob from Mabel.
"Why am I always the one who has to fix things?" His volume rose once more, venom in his tone. "You never grew up — you're still the same spoiled, helpless bitch you were at twelve!" The words hung in the air. Horrified at his own outburst, he froze, hands flying to his head. "Oh god, Mabel..."
"YES!" Mabel screamed, no longer even trying to hold back her tears. "Don't you think I know that!? I waited every damn day! You were the only one who ever took me as I am. The only one who ever really got me, Dip!" Her words dissolved into a wrenching, hysterical fit.
"I was such an idiot, clinging to the hope that you'd swoop in and fix everything like you used to. But you never did." When her brother reached for her shoulder, Mabel flinched back as if burned. "A freak at school, a child at home. And all I did was wait by the phone, finally understanding I was just a ghost to you."
"Do you think, after realizing that, I'd ever want to make the first move?" She sighed heavily. "You were always there, and then you just vanished. Can you imagine what was going through my head?" Mabel demonstratively rolled up the sleeves of her soaking-wet hoodie and thrust her arms forward, exposing skin covered in dozens of scars and fresh cuts.
"Guess you were right. I am a helpless bitch. And you're the world's last asshole."
She hid her face in the crook of her sleeve, spinning towards the window just as the car gave another jolt. A moment later, the door opened, and Stan hauled himself inside.
"Got the last of the things..." Stan began, but the words died in his throat as he glanced into the back seat. The tableau — Mabel's silent tears and Dipper's slumped, guilt-ridden posture beside her — drew a heavy sigh from him. He fixed his eyes on the road ahead and stepped on the accelerator.
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