Gravity Rising

Sacrifice

Movie(s)/Book(s)/Show(s): Gravity Falls/ Young Justice/Justice League

AU(s): Transcendence, Unspecified

Character(s): Dipper Pines, Wally West

Pairing(s): Mentions of Barry/Iris

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Alcor was BORED. There had been no summons at all today, so when he felt the familiar tugging sensation, he though screw the answering machine and just headed straight there. Alcor decided to do some theatrics, so he grew to eight feet tall and let himself take on the appearance of an adult. An adult with bloodstained teeth, but still. 

"WHO DARES SUMMON ALCOR THE DREAMBENDER," he bellowed, while on the inside he was thinking oh, great, a cult. What a surprise. The lead cultist stepped forward, raising his arms above his head.

"Oh, almighty Alcor, we have summoned you here today. We are the Cult of the Everlasting Blood, and we beg for your assistance!"

Alcor frowned. Cults usually wanted him to smite all non-believers or something like that. "With what?"

The lead cultist probably smirked; it was hard to tell with the hood and all. "We who have been faithful to you would like to beg a favor. We will give you an offering, if in exchange you make us rich with gold beyond measure!"

Alcor tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. "What are you going to give to me in return?"

The cultist snapped his fingers and stepped aside. "Bring forth the offering!"

There were two men behind him, also dressed in robes. In between them they held a small boy, with a gag in his mouth and his hands cuffed together.

His wide green eyes were terrified, and a part of his orange hair was caked with blood from a small gash on his forehead. He twisted, kicking out weakly. His body was skinny and underfed, and he appeared exhausted. His gaze pleaded desperately with the cultist on the right. 

Alcor was suddenly reminded of Hank, screaming because of the man that was trying to take him away. Oh, the demon had not been merciful on that one. 

"...ad...ease..." he choked out around the rope. Dad, please.

Alcor's blood boiled. He peeked into the boys mind and found plenty of memories of his father abusing him. That was not acceptable. He loathed human sacrifices in general (especially when they looked so much like one of his precious niblings), although it was usually to late to save them. 

The demon tried to hide his anger with a shark-toothed smile. He extended his hand, which lit with blue fame. "Deal."

The cultist shook it eagerly, and in one fluid motion he signaled for his lackeys to kill the boy. They swiftly yanked the boy's hands painfully over his head, sliced open his wrists, knocked him unconscious, and tossed him into the circle. To Alcor's immense relief, they didn't do it correctly. 

Raising his hands, Alcor smiled sharply. "You wanted gold? Fine, you can have it."

Molten metal trickled from the walls, moving out of the boy's way. It attacked the cultists, and their dying screams were music to his ears, although he allowed the boy's father and some others to escape. The dream demon would personally deal with them later. Oh, that was going to be so much fun.

What was it that he had to do again? Oh, right, save the dying kid.

Un-cuffing the boy's hands, he removed the gaga and noted with disapproval the bruises and raw marks around his mouth. With a wave of his own clawed hand he pulled some bandages into existence, and wrapped up the kid's arms.

Popping briefly into the Mindscape and then to his sisters house, he grabbed the first sweater that he saw. Landing back next to the kid, he slipped it over his head along with a quick enchantment to grow as he did, as well as protect him, and give off a feeling of safety. That would serve the redhead well in the future.

He hadn't noticed the specific sweater that he had grabbed, and was pleased to discover that it was relatively plain. Just a deep blue that gradually got lighter, just like his flame. The sleeves had golden markings dancing across them, with jet black yarn artfully woven in. His sister was good.

The kid stirred, raising his head. He let out a gasp and scrambled backwards, but he wasn't even strong enough to make it to the edge of the circle without his arms buckling under him. Alcor smiled slightly, warping his appearance to that of a twelve year old so that he would scare the kid a little less.

Of course, he was a demon who just killed almost everyone in the room. Scaring people was his specialty. 

"Where is everyone else? What did you do to my dad?" The kid whimpered, wrapping his arms around his torso.

"Oh, don't worry, not all of them are dead," Alcor's eyes darkened. "Although they will wish that they were when I'm done with them. But for now, I'm going to take you someplace safe."

"What do you mean? What are you going to do with me?" The poor kid was trembling now. 

"I'm going to send you to your uncle's house!" Alcor said cheerfully. 

The redhead frowned. "But I don't have an uncle." 

"Yes, you do. He and your aunt are going to take good care of you." Alcor grinned. The demon decided that he wasn't going to say a word of his new family's secrets just yet. The boy looked at his arms.

"Who made the sweater?" He asked, a touch of surprise coloring his voice. Alcor tilted his head.

"My sister, Mab-Mizer, did. Why?"

"It's really well made, and I didn't think that a demon knew how to knit."

Alcor laughed, which admittedly sounded really creepy (like a horror move sound affect, bro-bro!) with his echo-y voice, but he still did it. He ruffled the kid's hair, narrowing his yellow and black eyes when he flinched away from the demon's hand.

"Well, it's time for us to get going. But before we leave, I want to know your name." Actually, I want you to tell me your name, because I already know that, what you fear, your favorite color, and everything else about you.

The boy gave Alcor a small smile. "Wally. Wally West."