Now with a translation in Russian by ButaLover. Here is the link, just remove the spaces (and periods in between the beginning part and "net" part): h.t.t.p.s : / / ficbook . n.e.t / readfic / 4750835

Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable works. I am not Alex Hirsch.

It started like this.

Mabel was wandering around the crowded train station in confusion. Weren't they supposed to take a bus back to Piedmont?

Go find Dipper.

She was suddenly moved by the urge to locate her brother. Mabel had to find him immediately. Something bad was going to happen, and she had to make sure Dipper would be okay.

Behind you!

The sweater-adorned girl whirled around, pushing past the hordes of people that seemed to vanish once they were out of her way.

Eenie.

She ran, shoving people aside carelessly, not noticing how little substance they held as the faceless crowd broke into shards of warped brick and mortar.

Meenie.

Mabel broke free of the rubble-the rabble-and ran towards the brown-haired boy at the end of the platform, determination and panic slowly being replaced by relief and a strange, unidentifiable dread.

Miney.

Dipper turned towards her, a soft, awkward smile on his lips, and he tripped slightly, shocked as he—

Moe.

-fell backwards onto the tracks. Her heart stopped before pounding so harshly that she couldn't breathe.

Save him!

The girl dashed forward, throwing her hand out to help her brother up as the train whistle blared ominously.

Well.

The twins grasped hands desperately, pulling and yanking and TRYING SO HARD TO—

That just won't do.

A train roared out of the soaring archway, plowing into Dipper, taking him away from her. No? She still had him; she was holding his hand in hers, with his little writer's callouses digging slightly into her palm and something warm splattered on her face—

Does it hurt?

Mabel had him; she had his hand.

It must hurt.

Only his hand, there was blood dripping from the jagged stump where his shoulder should be, where his BODY SHOULD BE—

I've heard love does that.

She slowly sank to her knees on the empty train station platform, covered in the wet, warm liquid-warm like the choking feeling in the hollow of her throat-holding the bloody limb to her chest, crying? Laughing? Screaming? Mabel couldn't tell, her eyes were closed, and her ears must be, too.

Wake up.

The crying girl opened her eyes.

Mabel jerked up out of her bed and stumbled to the bed across from hers in the attic room.

She slumped onto the previously-sleeping form of her brother with a breathless wail, and Dipper held his shaking sister without saying a word.

It wasn't healthy to avoid talking about it.

But Mabel wasn't the only one had nightmares, and Dipper understood.

"Love was the most savage monster of all." ~Rick Riordan (The House of Hades)