Eyes

"Coming, Mom!" Mabel answered the call in her usual manner – by screaming through the floor boards.

It was the first thing Alcor processed when he blipped into her room, stomach full on temporal and gravitational magic. Like a galaxy swirling inside him. Because he no longer had organs to process his meals. The acquired energy melded with his own and waited. Waited to be used.

And it wouldn't wait long now.

Mabel minimized the window on her laptop, but left it open as she rose from her desk and crossed the room to her door. Her gaze swept the room, lingering on her closet and the lockbox she kept under her bed. Dipper knew that she was double checking to make sure they were closed and hidden.

She had been doing that a lot lately.

By some instinct, Mabel met his eyes. He knew that she couldn't see him – not yet – but that didn't change the fact that she seemed to have some sense of where he was. What could it mean?

At some point, there had been wards, but they never did much as far as Alcor had been concerned.

But that point had come and gone. How long had it been now?

Alcor – he was supposed to be all knowing – didn't know.

In a few minutes it won't matter. That voice had been growing in dominance. And he had let it. After all, they had come so far this way. A far cry from being hunted and almost annihilated by lower echelon demon scum. He had consumed his enemies. He had made a name for himself.

And now he was going to see Mabel.

This is what he had been fighting for. Fighting to survive. To come back to his sister.

What are you waiting for?

What indeed.

Dipper reached out with his mind, sensing the barrier between realities all around him. It felt as if he was suspended in tree sap. Thick, gooey, and viscous, but not at all like the impenetrable wall it had once been.

His power, oozing into his aura, simply warped the atmosphere around him, surpassing the metaphysical melting point of reality. Alcor pushed harder, willing the sparks, like tiny stars of his internalized galaxy, to spread out and permeate the room. The pencils sitting in a cup on Mabel's desk shivered. The floorboards groaned. The closet door rattled, but stayed shut.

Like this, Alcor could press his hand against the weakening barrier, claws leaving furrows. And Alcor ripped his way through.

For some reason, it felt all too easy.

A threshold, he realized.

Since he had surpassed that threshold, Alcor was on a new level. In his mind's eye, he could watch the feats he would achieve in the future like a high-budget cinema. One day he would rip California in two. Good to know. He'd have to get Mabel out of here before then.

But that was beside the point right now.

Alcor floated in Mabel's room. His void-black suit highly offsetting the pink of her rumpled bedspread and the Lisa-Frank inspired color palettes that filled her artwork push-pinned to the walls. His gloved hands shivered in the real world air, both with excitement and anticipation.

Dipper would get to see Mabel.

Alcor would get to see the world under his feet.

It was cold in Mabel's room. The temperature difference against his skin made it feel like molten gold as air condensed on his face. It felt like a tear was running down his cheek.

He looked into the mirror on Mabel's wall and froze.

The sight that greeted him was unearthly. Horrific. Terrifying.

Something straight from the pits of hell.

Shadows bent toward the creature, groping like dying men at his coat tails. Shiny shoe tips never touched the floor, hanging suspended like a puppet. Gold accents shimmered, iridescent, with ultraviolet flames that couldn't be properly seen with the human eye. Unfurled, ebony wings cast a silhouette like giant claws on the walls to say nothing of the claws on his hands, extended and ready to rip the soul out of the nearest living creature.

He forced his gaze to travel up.

A leer filled with rows of razor sharp teeth had remained fixed on the creature's lips. Shit-eating grin. Deceiver's face. His skin was no longer tinted by the Gravity Falls summer sun. Instead, it was pale, drawn, and washed-out. He would have looked like a freaking vampire were it not for his…

His eyes.

Oh, God save him.

His eyes.

Soulless.

Or would be if he didn't know that he had a soul.

But sclera were not meant to be that black. Like someone had injected ink into the vitreous body and somehow the whole system still worked. Worked better. After all, he could peek into other timelines and dimensions now – or soon. He could see colors in emotion and wavelengths that no one else could.

And irises were not meant to be that gold. Sure, some people had honey-brown eyes that could appear gold in the sunlight. Not so for him. It appeared as if someone had pounded out sheets of that precious metal and implanted them in his eyes. And they glowed. With life. With hate. With a lust for power. They burned.

Tracks of liquid gold ran from the corners of his eyes to the bottom of his chin.

Why was he crying again?

Because, for all your hard work, you cannot return to Mabel her brother. You are no longer him. You may still be Dipper Pines in some way, shape, and form. But you are not that boy from three years ago.

Three years. Had it really been that long?

You are Alcor the Dreambender. A demon. Was that not the name you gave the Time Baby when you killed him? When you embraced your nature?

Dipper had thought he was something else.

Sure, kid, let's go with that.

He had failed.

He could not let Mabel see him now.

He would not replace the memory of Mabel's brother with this creature – this monster – that was reflected back at him in the mirror. He wasn't right. He wasn't enough. Or maybe he was too much. Too much of something that was completely and utterly wrong.

WRONG!

The image in the mirror rippled. The creature's face – his face – was distorted simply by the power of that thought. Around him, the air grew hotter. A candle on Mabel's desk spontaneously lit with cyan flames.

What's wrong?

"I am." Dipper answered himself. "I can't do this."

Yes you can. You have all the power you could ever need.

"But that's not what I need. I need my sister. I needed her from the beginning. I always needed her. If she was with me, I could have been better."

Better? The demon asked. Better how?

Dipper felt his panic rising as he realized how far he'd come.

"More human."

A part of him was laughing with hysteria and another part of him was laughing maniacally. It seemed that his greatest obstacle would always be himself.

His self-doubt.

His nature.

Dipper's gaze fell to his hands. His gloves and cuff links. Black on gold. Like his eyes.

In a dimension separated by time and space, he saw ruby red blood dripping off his fingers. He couldn't touch Mabel. He couldn't hug Mabel. Not with these hands.

It terrified Dipper. Everything he had been working towards had been for a moment when he could do so. He tore through his enemies so he could tear through reality. Who's to say he wouldn't tear her life in two as well?

It scared him.

To.

Inaction.

Alcor's power fizzed and died. He faded into the mindscape and drew into himself. Hands braced either side of his head. All eyes screwed tightly closed. Forget the world.

You wanted the world.

Dipper had wanted power. A means to an end. But it was all for nothing.

You've started something. You can't stop.

Inexorably, the sight of his third eye was pulled back to Mabel's room – warm now without his presence, bright with colors in more than one dimension, and filled with love and encouragement that she had ceaselessly showered upon him even when he hadn't known he'd needed it. Mabel had returned to her desk. She clicked open her web browser and continued her search. On…

"No." Dipper muttered miserably to himself. Dejected. Hopeless.

On Alcor the Dreambender, cults, and sacrifices.

Events have already been put in motion. Events which you could SEE if you LOOKED. But no. You're just going to sit here and whine. Wallow. See if I care.

"No."

Yes.

And this is why being a demon might just be… easier. No heartbreak. No shame. No guilt. Just fun and chaos and power. Already he was craving more. He was hungry. Even after he'd already had so much.

Yes.

"Go away, Dipper."

Yes.

"I don't want to deal with this."

Yes.

"I could be better off by just ignoring this."

Yes.

"Alcor the Dreambender should not have to deal with these petty, human emotions. And since when does a demon exist for the sake of a human? Pitiful."

Yes.

"I'm hungry."

I'm hungry.

So Alcor opened his eyes. He moved. And in his wake was destruction. He went on. And in his mind was locked a part of him that was more human than any demon had a right to be.

Somewhere down the line that part of him stirred for the first time in what felt like ages.

It started with that all-too familiar sense of a summons, pulling Alcor from his mindscape and into a warehouse. Humid air stuck to his skin in this plane of reality. He could hear distant sounds of the San Francisco Bay coming from outside as cargo ships moved in and out of Pacific waters.

Around the circumference of the circle stood members of yet another cult. Their names and faces had all blurred together in Alcor's mind. They were worthless, save for their souls.

Speaking of which.

There was a human inside the array as well.

Spread eagle on the ground. Twitching. Bleeding. Dying.

In this state, the human's soul was ripe for the taking. No doubt organized by the cult. A sacrifice.

Mabel.

It was like everything in his mind simply stuttered and stopped.

But his eyes – glowing bright gold with growing rage – continued to watch as second by second as Mabel lost the essential components that made Mabel Mabel. Her soul was dimming. Her body was surrounded by an ever growing pool of red. Her breaths were faltering.

That gap in her chest fit the exact dimensions of the silver, ceremonial blade held by the cult leader. They were saying something. Probably proposing their deal. But Dipper didn't hear a word of it. He didn't hear anything at all. Not the thrum of the leader's words; not even the shuddering, wet breaths of his sister.

Dipper awoke to scream at himself: THINK!

But there was only one solution.

Alcor alit on the floor. Dipper knelt beside his sister. He took her hand and whispered into her mind.

"I can save you."

There wasn't a coherent thought. Just an impression. A driving force.

I'm not done yet.

"No you're not."

His voice was soft as he squeezed her fingers. They responded with a jerk accompanied by a little smile at the corner of her lips. There was no way her eyes were seeing.

Because she wouldn't wear that expression while looking upon the form of a demon that had grown dark as the endless universe. She wouldn't wear that expression when seeing patterns of brickwork creeping over his face, reminiscent of the creature which had killed her brother. She wouldn't wear that expression knowing that that third eye was staring hungrily at her soul.

And yet, she was smiling. At him. Dipper couldn't decide if he was brimming with happiness at that or self-loathing at what he was about to do. She wouldn't be smiling when this was over.

His hand – the one that wasn't holding onto his sister for dear life – reached out and took her soul. Mabel was in so much pain already, she hardly reacted. She was lost. She was his now.

Dipper took her soul.

Mabel's hand went limp. Her unseeing eyes went glassy.

Alcor stood and turned toward the cultists. They were waiting expectantly, under the impression that Alcor had heard their demands and had accepted their offering. But it wasn't their request he was granting tonight.

No.

I've made a deal with someone far more important than you scum.

Yes.

Alcor stretched out his hand – the one that wasn't holding onto his sister's soul for dear life – and removed the cultists from existence. It wasn't enough to simply kill them for what they had done. This way, they wouldn't be remembered. Not by anyone who knew them; not even by future incarnations.

He would remember them, though. And he would extract vengeance in their next life as well. He had always had a vindictive streak.

Dipper looked down at Mabel's soul, pulsing blue and bright in his hand. He didn't want to do this, but it was the only way. He swallowed her soul in one easy gulp. Easy. It had been too easy.

And the sparks that danced under his skin felt warm instead of hot.

He let the energy flow back into his hands and sent it toward Mabel's body.

Her blood flowed back and her wounds re-knit themselves. And like a punch to the chest, she took a big gulp of air. She was breathing again. She was seeing again.

Mabel's eyes lit with recognition. She knew of Alcor the Dreambender. Who didn't? She didn't recognize him. Who would? And worst of all… she was very afraid.

"The contract has been fulfilled." His voice caused reality to vibrate with unease, "Your life has been returned to you, but now YOUR SOUL IS MINE!"

Dipper wanted to curl up and die. He never wanted this. He didn't want to acknowledge that…

This is what it takes to become a demon.

I bring you the final installment! (a million years later) Sorry about that. I don't have an excuse :P Anyway, this chapter was more on the introspective side. I also had fun referencing the actual!AU in this. Hope you enjoy! THANK YOU TO EVERYONE FOR READING AND REVIEWING!