Transcendence AU sideblog

Ronald cowered on the floor, hands up, as masked figures yelled things at him; all the words in the world to ask what was going on, what happened, where’s his family–they got stuck as they always did. No patience, no space to explain. Glass shattered from the kitchen as they drew handcuffs-

    “She, of all people… she should have hated Alcor.”

And then, they passed him by. As he sat alone, his back against the wall, the last innocent morning ripped away even as the sun still twinkled through the trees, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

    “And as the story goes, she did, at first. With nowhere to go, she offered her services, and ended up working out of an ice rink in Inyo County, dealing with bodies as fast as they came in. Just a fraction of how many really died out there, but even that was overwhelming.”

Sitting next to him, as small as a child and as old as the universe, was Alcor the Dreambender. His wings drew like curtains across the chaos outside, the stomping upstairs, the police lining up outside the crematorium. His eyes were Dipper’s eyes, and all they said, over and over, were I’m so sorry, Dad, I’m so sorry, I am so sorry.

Ronald’s eyes filled with tears, and he put his head in his hands, and he let Alcor, let Dipper, let his son draw him into the tightest embrace, squeezing like he could put the pieces back together again.

But much like another sunny morning, hundreds of years ago, there was almost nothing he could do.

    “One day…”

While Ronald sobbed into his suitjacket, they were setting charges on the crematorium. Dipper watched, Alcor watched.

    “One day, Eva was working alone, when she saw a figure walking amongst the rows and rows of bodies.”

Watched as the heavy door blew off its hinges.

    “He seemed so small out there, so lost, so aimless. Eva thought he was a family member–he had the look of those grief-stricken souls who came for their loved ones–but she saw the wings on his back, the gold in his stare, and she didn’t hesitate.”

Watched as the men stormed in… and froze, their eyes wide behind their helmets, their guns quivering. Alcor was there, too. Even as he drew David close, he was there, his golden eyes taking in a truth he already knew, couldn’t stop knowing, couldn’t ever stop.

He watched–

    “–as she raged at him. Screamed at him. Beat her fists against him, asking why, why, why did–”

–you do this, Mallory? All–

    “–those people, those innocent people, it’s not your right, how could you be–”

–so monstrous? How could you be… so much like me?

Alcor walked amongst the bodies, just as he had done so long ago. He walked on a floor slick with fluids, breathed in an air that made the cops turn away and vomit. This wasn’t a scene of her bloody murders; the only victim, he sensed, was a few specks of Harry swept up with the dust under the cabinets. No, this was everything she’d let go as she spiraled ever downwards, all the corners she’d cut, all the trust she’d broken, all the shame pent up until she could only lock the doors to keep it from spilling out.

Dirty scalpels, soot-grimed counters. Body tags without their bodies, open packs of concrete dust stacked up by the urns. Three legs sticking out of the cremation machine. He could go on–the trials certainly would. They’d be particularly interested in all the bodies that came from Ianitor; prosecutors would come up with all manner of theories on how Mallory came to be behind a spree of 14 unsolved murders up and down the Federation.

    “And do you know what Alcor did?”

His eyes filled with tears, but they didn’t blur like a humans’ did. She would never leave prison. His Dad would need to sell their home in disgrace.

Harry, Gemma, Angeline, so many people were dead. And for what?

    “He took it. He didn’t argue, he didn’t justify what happened. He stood there, and he heard out all of her grief, and after he was gone, Eva realised a weight had lifted off her chest. She wondered why a demon had let her do that, had come down from some unreachable, unaccountable corner of the Mindscape to stand amongst the bodies and be shouted at–California had demonstrated he didn’t need to do that. No, he chose to do that.”

    “He chose to be there, chose to confront the devastation he’d caused. And in time, although Eva never spoke to him again after that day, her feelings began to shift. She bought demonology books–before they were restricted, of course–and kept researching him for the rest of her life. She never settled on what to think of him, but she often talked about that meeting to her children, and they talked to their children, and soon enough, our family was one of the first members of the Circle in the Federation. Unofficially, of course.”

    “And I broke that.”

    “Oh, don't worry about it, sweetie. It's not your fault.”

    “But it is. You're not really my Mom. I'm not really a part of this family.”

    “Of course you are!”

    “I'm not. I'm a demon, Mom. I'm Alcor.”

    “I love you no matter who you are.”

    “You’re dead because of me.”

    “I forgive you.”

    “I’ve ruined your life. Ruined your family. If I hadn’t tried to play human, none of this would’ve happened.”

    “If you hadn’t tried, I never would have had such a wonderful son.”

    “It doesn’t matter, does it? You’re not real, you’re not really her. This isn’t really what you’d say, is it?”

    And Eva didn’t smile so sadly. “Oh, sweetie,” echoed the voice in his head. “You’ll never know.”

________________________________________________________________

A demon’s realm was a terrible place to be. From the weakest of spirits to the most apocalyptic beings, each and every one had their little corner of the Mindscape, ‘decorated’ to their particular… tastes. It was usually a lot of blood, or a lot of fire–Alcor didn’t mind those ones so much. Pestilence demons still got to him a little; they always went all out with the gross factor, and it’s like, yeah, that’s your thing and all, but you really want to live in a lake of stinking pus or whatever? Talk about taking the job home with you.

Alcor allowed himself that little smile, before he steeled himself for Ianitor’s lair. His corner of the Mindscape was actually just across from the rolling fields of his own; his Flock grazed so peacefully within sight of a subtle slit in spacetime, all but invisible against the swirling, starry webs of pure thought that drifted in this place between places.

The Flock usually greeted him as he passed, but they kept their heads down as he stalked across the grass. He kept walking right off the boundary, his footsteps thudding on the membrane of reality, and when he reached the slit, he grabbed it with both hands, tore it open, and dove inside.

Hm.

Well, he was a bit more creative than your average demon, Alcor’d give him that. Finding himself in a maze of mirrors from floor to ceiling, it took a second for him to get his bearings. From all sides, his own blazing eyes glared him down, and every movement, every wing twitch made him jerk his head.

Oh, he did not like this–one of these reflections was gonna jump out at him for real, wasn’t it? His fists clenched.

“A̵ͪ̒l̓͡rig̣͌hṱ, Ìa̫nit̨ò̟ṟ́,” He snarled. “T̥̩hͫėr̟͆e̦͌̆'̣̑͠s͚̈́ ṭ̎̌w̶͓o way̗̖̫s th̵̍i̟̻ͣs̤ c̯͕̍â̟n͉͙ g͗o-”

“Is one of them the hard way?” Right up against his ear–the voice snorted when he jumped back. “Oh, please, Alcor, let’s not pretend there’s any universe where you go easy on me.”

“Wha-hey!” Spinning around, Alcor glowered at his reflection. “G̢̪̿etͥ̉ bą̘̩̞̔ͤ͟c̮k͌ͮ h̲͕̗̉ͦ͆̚e̙̓̃r̜e͘!”

Ianitor’s voice echoed from all around. “Hmm, no,” he said. “You can find me yourself. You should visit my knife room while you’re here. I so rarely get guests… ones in the mood to appreciate good decor, that is.”

“Keep waiting,” Alcor growled, and began to stalk down the hall. “Is this your plan? You torture m̶̯̙̥͎ͩ̉y s̱̩̒̀͞is̪̳te͖̠̹̳͚̠̣̅̀ͤr̢͚̂ and you think you can stall me out? There is nowhere in the un̶̙͋͆iv͖̗̳͞ȩ̥̝͜͜͞rş̨̧̻̰̻̟e͓̾̈̓̅̾ you can hide, Ianitor.”

“You wound me, Dreambender. You think I’m actually trying to hide?” His voice had a mock-hurt to it that Alcor couldn’t stand. “I know I can’t hide from you, and I certainly can’t match you in a fight.”

“So, what, you’re trying to talk me down?”

“You started talking first. Seemed rather rude not to respond.”

Oh, he sounded so meek and reasonable now; Alcor thought of the gloating demon in the forest, and his lip curled. “ṠH̵͍͕Ù̘͎T U͓̅̔P̟̒!̑̿̕” he snarled; he came up against one of the mirror-walls, and shattered it with a swipe. “Don’t act so i̋̓n̞n͑͟͜o̓c͙͕͑e̛̯̎nt̽͒̒. You know what you did!”

“You really are upset about that human, aren’t you?” Alcor could hear his insufferable smirk. “Ah, Mallory Quicksilver… that really was my finest work. It’s a shame Sagar let you out; I was hoping to get a few more years out of her before you tore me to pieces, but, ah… what do the humans say? Worth it.”

Alcor could feel the void creeping into his form. His fists clenched infinitely tight; he blew open a door into a room filled with knives hanging utterly still from the ceiling, and with a swipe of his hand he crumpled the whole space into a marble and hurled it against another one of those damned mirrors. He could swear his reflection grinned before it exploded into glittering dust.

“Temper, temper. Did I get the phrase wrong? I know you’re the human expert of the two of us, but you don’t have to be rude about it.”

“C̻̘O̡̘͓̞ͥM͍̻͉͉̪͊̓Ë́ O̓Ṵ̡͔̻͖̝ͯT͕̽ Ä̮͉̤͡ͅL̸̠͌͑͂͛R͇͓E͍͐ͫ͐Ȁ̞̻D̳̯͗Y̧ͤ̔͝!”

“I’d rather not.” And when Alcor growled and continued stalking forwards: “Hey, Dreambender, there’s been a question I’ve wanted to ask you. What do you… what do you think a demon is?”

He didn’t dignify that with a response, but Ianitor kept going.

“No, really, I’m just, ah, I’m a little confused what you want from me, here.”

“I want you to s̷̘̥̀ͨh̨͎̣ͩ̇̂͟utͯ̓ͨ u͉ͯ͜p̣͒͑͢ a̰̤ͮͫͣ̏n̞̐d̴̖̗ͮ͊ͅ d̳̖͗̽̀i̛̭ͩͭ̚e͖̝̣͐ͦ̕.”

“Yes, I gathered. But look, I may have nudged Mallory in a few places-”

“Nụ̢̋ͧ͟d̷g̬̳͊ed?!”

“-but you know, the first time I met her, she was already summoning a demon to kill her friend’s dad.” Out of the corner of Alcor’s eye, one of his reflections shrugged; he blasted it to pieces, but Ianitor continued. “I’m just saying, I’m a murder demon, she’s a murderer–it’s kind of in my remit, isn’t it?”

“The first time you ‘met’ her–when you kͧ̎i̙l̂le̢͗̈́d̠ Angeline?”

A snort. “Angeline, yes, you’re using that name like you didn’t just remember she exists. Look, I’m not saying I get human morals–I like torturing murderers ‘cause they’re interesting! So many other demons, they’re all in with their cults and ‘blood of the innocents’, and to each his own, but do you know how boring innocent humans are? What are you gonna sink your claws into, that time they took a candy bar from the store or whatever? Oh, please. Give me some real darkness!”

Alcor scowled at a wall. Where was he going with this?

“Anyway, my point is, I may not be some good guy, but I don’t think humans mind me as much as the other demons out there. I mean, hey, we were neighbors for centuries, and you never noticed me.” The reflection before him suddenly broke into a grin. “Do you really have a problem with me picking on murderers? Or is it just this murderer?”

“I…” Alcor started, then clenched his teeth. “I don't need to justify myself to you. You're lying; it's not just guilty people you mess with! Xiaofan, Marsh-that whole mansion, you-”

“You gotta be kidding me,” Ianitor said, and leaned in before Alcor could respond: “Come on, it’s just a little collateral! A little something to hook them in–who'd summon me if I didn't get them out of their messes first? Hey, it's not like I destroyed, say, a whole state for no-ack!”

Leaned too far; Alcor grabbed his reflection with voided claws, and peeled him out of the mirror.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Now there was a tremor in Ianitor’s voice. Hands up, he tried for a smile. “Alright, Dreambender, I upset you, I get it! I can make it right, uh, how about a deal?”

“No de̩̥ͩä̓l̩s̽.”

The claws squeezed tighter around his neck. “Okay, no deals, no–h-how about an agreement? You want souls? I got souls!”

“I͙͢ w͢ạ͌͞n͕t̨̂̇ͦͫ̾ y̘̖̺͂̏̉o͘u̷̚ ṱ̸͔̇ͥ͜ǫ̹͔̍ ḋì͟ẹ̸̡̈́̇͒̈.”

“Sure, sure, sure, but–augh!–hey, I do a lot of good work!” Ianitor strained away from those glowing eyes. “I’m a part of the ecosystem, who’s gonna be mopping up all the murderers around the world if I’m not there?! I get thank you’s, you know! Humans who never got justice except when I entered the picture, are you gonna do a better job? Let’s make a bet, Dreambender: if you can-”

And Alcor sank his teeth into Ianitor’s head. There was a terrible screaming for the second it took to buckle the skull; for every pop and crack a glass pane shattered around them, louder and louder and faster and faster until it all gave way and his teeth met and silence. Unceremoniously, Alcor pulled the body apart and plucked the flickering light of Ianitor’s soul out of the mess.

Holding it by a strand, he wiped his chin and allowed himself a grim smile at the helpless little flutters–not so talkative now, was he?

…

But his smile quickly faded, and nothing he would do to Ianitor brought it back. He didn’t feel satisfied by the time he was done, he just felt… tired. Tired and troubled, the grasping last words of a desperate demon still striking at something deep.

Are you gonna do a better job?

He sat in his Mindscape for a little bit, feeling the grass between his bloody fingers, letting the void drain out as he watched the Flock graze. Still tired. Still turning that question in his mind, over and over and over again.

Are you gonna do a better job?

________________________________________________________________

This was the same hospital Mallory was born in. A ways down the hall, past some turns and through a couple keypadded doors, and there was the NICU. Alcor remembered it well–standing invisibly amongst the rows and rows of incubators, seeing all the souls settling into tiny bodies wrapped up with tubes and masks and hopes and little hats. He was always aware of his power, but that room made him feel like a bull standing in a china shop; he kept his wings close, and he hardly dared to breathe as he approached her.

They’d summoned him deep in the woods, Ronald and Eva. Back then they were just two robed figures in a circle of eight–he realised now, a very large Circle gathering for Federation standards. Two of them didn’t even know his Mom and Dad; they’d gotten a call and driven hours to help. The other four were old family friends from the floating isles, and with just a few words from Alcor, they were soon to drift away:

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll save your daughter, deal. But listen, if you’re going to raise me, I don’t want human me to hear a word about all this Circle stuff. I just want a normal life, okay?”

Dipper remembered wondering why his parents never seemed to have any friends as a kid. Now that he was Alcor, he couldn’t help but wonder why he’d ever thought this was going to work out.

Did he ever think, when it came to these things? What had Mallory been to him back then, before he’d even laid eyes on her, but another Mabel, another Belle, another hope, another chance?

She’d been everything to him… everything but a person.

Her family history, the Circle kids she would’ve played with, the mentors she would’ve grown up with–the ones that dropped everything to help her parents do an illegal demon summoning in the middle of the night–they were all stripped from her life by a demon who thought he could customise his experience, a demon who thought he could make a few little tweaks and end up with Belle again. But Ronald and Eva weren’t Lionel, and Mallory… Oh, Mallory.

He wasn’t standing in the NICU anymore. Through a couple keypadded doors, past some turns, and a ways up the hall lay another room altogether. Two police officers stood outside the doorway to this dark and stuffy space, the sun glowing on curtains drawn to keep out the press. No rows of incubators; there was just one bed, one monitor keeping up a steady, mindless beep, and its occupant.

In a strange way, Mallory suited a hospital gown. She looked sick without her glass charm; her face gaunt, her body thin and bruised, her scalp mottled with bare patches. The Woodsman had taken its revenge, and her arms were both covered with thick bandages, ending too far up her limbs.

They rested gingerly by her sides as she lay there, her faraway eyes gazing through some home renovation show. She looked on the verge of falling asleep, but she noticed Alcor coming as soon as he stepped through the door.

Those eyes. In the darkness, they glinted like daggers. The shackle on her ankle jangled as she sat up; she’d seemed so weak and listless just a moment ago, but the white-hot fury in her aura had revived her, and an entirely new face glowered up at him.

She didn’t speak a word–whether it was because of the cops outside, or because she had nothing to say to him, he didn’t want to know. The monitor ticked up, beeping faster. After a moment of silent, seething hatred, she turned away, and lay on her side facing the wall.

The message was clear.

With a sigh, Alcor let her be; he took a step back, and his foot landed on carpet. There was a TV playing here, too, one that quickly shut off as soon as his presence was noticed.

“-at the scene of Quicksilver Funeral Home & Crematory, where we can see bodies are still being-”

“Alcor!” Lucy Ann tossed the remote aside and put on a smile. “Hey, dude.”

“Hey,” Alcor managed, and then… and then what? There was so much to say, but he was so, so tired. He looked around the room instead. “Hotel?”

She nodded. “Yeah… well, more of a motel, really.” She sat back on the double bed. “Thanks for getting me and Xiaofan out of there. You know, heh, I was happy to be in Canada for about five seconds before I remembered the weather. How do people live with this much snow?”

With a snort, she gestured at all the snowdrifts outside. Alcor didn’t laugh.

“Xiaofan, is she-?”

“Back with her folks.” Lucy Ann made a face. “I, ah, may have promised you’d go talk to her about what happened.”

“Is she going to tell?”

“About your human stunt? Hell no, she doesn’t want anything more to do with that case. As far as anyone’s concerned, she and I weren’t even in the country that day… but, ah,” and she fixed Alcor with a look. “I think she’d like an explanation.”

An explanation. He sat down hard on the end of the bed, his shoulders bowed. “Yeah,” he said, quietly. “Yeah, that… that’s fair. It’s a weird thing I did, isn’t it?”

Lucy Ann shrugged obliquely. “No weirder than your usual stuff,” she said, but when he didn’t laugh, she switched tack. “Hey, it wasn’t just you. I shouldn’t have messed with you like I did. I thought it’d be fun to see what you were like as a human, but… yeah, I should’ve known better. I should’ve known it would make things complicated.”

“What do you mean?” He looked up at her. “I liked hanging out with you.”

“Heh, you didn’t always.”

“I mean, I remember being confused why you were there. And I could tell you were keeping something back–that annoyed me.” He gave a little laugh. “I used to be the kid who wanted to know everything. I guess I still am, when... But no, I’m glad you were there. I was sad when you left, I thought we were good friends.”

“Aren’t we?”

“Of course we are! I’m just speaking from…” He trailed off, searching for the words. “It’s kinda weird, coming back after these times. I was always me, but Dipper Quicksilver still feels… separate, you know? Like I’m two different people.”

“Makes sense.” Her smile was slight. “Well, tell Dipper Quicksilver that we were friends. I liked hanging out with him, too.”

For the first time since he’d come back to himself, Dipper felt a bit of warmth in his chest. He lay back, and found the remote by his ear.

“Wanna watch something?” He asked. Lucy Ann shrugged.

“Not a lot on, but sure, if you can find something.”

Alcor considered turning it on normally–he remembered what it was set to, so he snapped his fingers, and it flicked onto the midseason of some tv show.

“Nice trick,” Lucy Ann said. He managed the ghost of a grin.

“Hey, there’s some perks I missed.”

He snapped again: advert. Another snap led them to a sitcom, and then to a police drama he really wasn’t in the mood for.

“Yeah, I told you there’s not much on.”

“Hmm…” Alcor changed it one more time, and found himself watching the same home reno show that was on in Mal’s hospital room. His first instinct was to recoil; he didn’t want to think about her right now, didn’t want a hint of the mess he’d have to deal with in the coming months, years, decades… but he hesitated.

“Oh, are we watching this?” Lucy Ann saw his pause as interest, and settled in. “Yeah, sure.”

That was it, then. With the snow drifting peacefully outside, Alcor let himself sink into the mattress, let himself rest in the comfortable sounds of this moment before the hard days to come.

And somewhere a world away, his sister was doing exactly the same.

It wasn’t much of a connection. But it was all he had, for now.