Gravity Rises (S3)

AI: Part Ten

Content warning: The next three chapters contain references to child abuse and its effects.

Mabel didn't know how long it had been since Charles had abducted her, but she guessed it had been at least a full day by now. She stood in darkness, handcuffed to a metal bracket in a stone wall. Her legs hurt from standing for so long, and she was hungry and thirsty — feelings she had all but forgotten in her perfect fantasy world.

She was exhausted, too. Yesterday, when Gideon had told her she was dying, she'd felt just fine. She'd only had his word for it. But now. . . now she could tell. She could almost feel her life draining away as she stood there, trapped and alone.

Well, not completely alone. There were the voices.

They whispered to her almost constantly. Pacifica's voice, Bill's voice, her own voice — they all told her that she was worthless, that the world was better off without her. And then Dipper's voice, Ford's voice, Gideon's voice — they'd call out for help, and Mabel couldn't go to them. Her feelings of uselessness all came back to her, and they only grew as she stood there chained to the wall.

She'd tried talking back to the voices at first. "Please," she'd said, "I can't do anything; I'm stuck. You have to help me before I can help you." But anything she said was only fodder for the voices' derisive remarks.

"You don't deserve help," said Dipper's voice. "I've spent all my life helping you, and when have you ever helped me back? It's time you helped me for a change."

"You tried to help me with the portal," said Ford's voice, "but you only made things worse. Even when you try, you mess things up."

"I'm doing a public service by killing you," Bill's voice assured her. "You're a drain on everyone else."

Those comments and more floated around the dark room. Mabel soon gave up trying to talk back.

Every hour or so, Charles appeared, his face lit by his amulet. His ethereal grey skin shone in the pale blue light. "I'm checking up on you," he explained, "to make sure Gideon doesn't find you. Not that he will. But it was a mistake to leave you alone with him." He walked closer to Mabel. "You can't send me away again."

That confused Mabel; it sounded like Charles was accusing her of forcibly sending him away rather than asking him to leave. He'd left willingly then, or so it had seemed. But now he didn't listen to her when she asked him to let her go. He was keeping her here, and he didn't seem inclined to change his mind.

Where was here, anyway? It seemed like the headquarters to the Order of the Crescent Eye. But according to Gideon, the door to the Order was actually the door out of the moon. So where was Mabel? How did she get in here, and how was Gideon going to follow?

He probably couldn't. Not because he was incompetent, but because it was probably physically impossible to follow.

"You're so stupid. You didn't even realize I had scars," Gideon's voice said. The real Gideon wasn't here, Mabel knew, but it was his exact voice. "I was at the Museum for over a week, and I was in pain that whole time, and you were so selfish that you didn't even notice."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She whispered that over and over again in those hours cuffed to the wall. Sometimes the voices ignored her; other times they mocked her for trying to apologize. But it was all she could do. They were right, at least about some things: She was selfish; she was often useless; and when she did try to help, she often failed. She knew that about herself, but it hurt to have those things repeated back to her with the voices of people she loved.