I felt like I should give you guys a heads up, since the font styles might be confusing:

Italics = Thought

Italics/Underline = The Doll's vision

Happy reading! :)

She wondered how long ago it had been since she'd last heard Dipper's voice.

Mabel could feel the warm tears flowing down her face as she stared at the lifeless form of her twin. Tubes poked through random areas on his feeble, broken body. The bandage on Dipper's head was now stained with the familiar decorations of dried blood. The heart monitor bleeped in the background, its consistent signal proving that Dipper was alive. Or, at least, as close to being alive as the boy could get. The doctors will have to change that bandage soon.

She remembered it all. The ear-piercing screech of the runaway car as it lost control. The concerned cry from Dipper's voice. She could still feel the shards of glass that Dipper had shielded her from. The scrapes from the cold, unforgiving concrete still stung.

The blood…oh, God. The blood was the most prominent feature.

It still seemed as if the incident had occurred yesterday, though Mabel knew much more time had slipped from her fingers since then. It had to have been at least a few weeks. With each passing day, she could tell her twin brother was fading. Her heart had shattered once already as the doctors told her and Grunkle Stan of Dipper's slim chances of survival. The doctors had mentioned a blood transfusion, but Mabel had heard no other news since.

With a heavy heart, Mabel took Dipper's barely warm hand into her own. Maybe, maybe if I let him know I'm here, he might wake up sooner.

"Dipper…" the older twin started, more tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "I don't know if you can hear me. Do you remember that time when we were in school and those bullies tried to hurt me? But you stopped them. They gave you a black eye back then. But you shook it off. You got back up. You can get back up from this, too. You can fight this, Dipper. I know you can."

The memories flashed through her mind. Memories of Dipper defending her from those gnomes. Memories of him saving her from Gideon's clutches. Memories of their fight against Bill. Mabel savored those memories. But now her brother was trapped in a hospital bed, life flickering before Mabel's eyes, and the teenager couldn't help but grip those memories tighter than before. They may be all I have left. The tears flowed freely down the twin's cheeks, staining the sheets on Dipper's bed, and Mabel couldn't stop the sob that escaped her throat.

"Please wake up, Dipper…please."

The rocking of her master's chair was the only sound that reached her ears.

The Doll sank down to her knees in the soil, eyes cast upon the gravestone. The tombstone was one of many, meant to mark the fallen hunters who came before.

So young. That was what she had thought of their newest hunter when he had first arrived in the dream. Even Master Gehrman had held his doubts. He had felt it would've been better if he'd fetched his battered scythe and freed the poor teenager from the pain of the night. "He is just a child," the first hunter had told her. "The poor lad deserves better. The night is merciless, but we have no reason to be."

She couldn't help but wonder what the boy had left behind. Maybe there was someone else the teen cared about, the same way Gehrman had cared for the Doll. The Doll never knew what it was like to be loved. Gehrman cared for her, she knew that much, yet the care Gehrman held for her seemed…forced. It was almost as if he was still afraid to show her his full love, to let his past die along with the beasts that plagued Yharnam.

Often times, whenever she was in deep thought, whether it be by her master's side, or praying for the hunters who had finally awoken from the dream, the Doll could sense something. A strand, no more than a strand, of the outside. Sometimes, she could see the streets where the hunters walked, hear the voice of the hunters as they mumbled in their sleep.

It was one of the many gifts that the Doll's master had blessed her with.

Letting go: it was one of the hardest lessons that Master Gehrman had tried to teach his students. Sometimes, whenever the Doll was outside the workshop, she could hear the distant roaring of a battle. She pitied them all. She pitied Master Gehrman for refusing to accept help he so clearly needed. She pitied the hunters who had drowned in the bloodlust of the hunt. She pitied the ones who were too selfless for their own good. Though she had never seen the duels between the master and his students, she knew the end result would always be the same. The hunters would depart for reality whether they wanted to or not.

Their newest hunter had been faced with this challenge multiple times. He hadn't been pitted against Master Gehrman—even the little ones knew that the young man would fail spectacularly against such a hardened veteran of the hunt—but rather against the beasts that roamed the streets. Eventually, he returned to the Hunter's Dream more discouraged than the last. Yet each time, he held on. But to what?

A thought occurred to her. Maybe she could glance into this boy's past. It would be easy. She would finally have the answers she sought after. "Just a peek…" the Doll told herself, focusing her strength just enough so that she could grasp a few visible strings of the world beyond the dream. Her mind reached for the thinnest thread and grabbed it, her breath escaping in a shudder as she fully connected to that fine line. The line between dreams and reality.

And then she heard it. A girl's voice.

"Dipper…"

What a peculiar name.

"I don't know if you can hear me. Do you remember that time when we were in school and those bullies tried to hurt me? But you stopped them."

"Impressive…" the Doll whispered. It was no surprise now that the boy had been able to swallow his fear of the beasts so easily. He'd been facing beasts his whole life.

"They gave you a black eye back then. But you shook it off. You got back up. You can get back up from this, too. You can fight this, Dipper. I know you can." The Doll picked up the sounds of distant weeping, and she knew that whoever this girl was, she cared about him.

Is this what love is? To love someone when they are with you, and to miss them when they are not?

"Please wake up, Dipper…please."

Distant weeping invaded the Doll's thoughts. She could sense something, a presence, awaken within her being. She could feel this. She could feel what the girl felt. Master Gehrman had expressed this feeling sometimes, yet the Doll couldn't place her finger on what the feeling was. Her vision began to blacken, and she knew then and there that she had reached her limit. No. There has to be more to this. I have to know more. Yet as much as the Doll wanted to listen further, she could no longer hold on. If she pushed herself further, she would pass out for sure. The young hunter had roused her from this state multiple times, and she felt it a burden to have him awaken her again.

The Doll couldn't help but hesitate before she severed the thread. The dream and the waking world were separate once more. Yet that eerie feeling remained. The Doll could still sense the emotion in the girl's voice. She sunk to her knees, more out of the strange feeling's overwhelming nature than anything else. She knew this feeling from somewhere. The Doll felt it each time Master Gehrman had rejected her, but she had been unable to place a finger as to what it was.

The strange thing was…the Doll felt something for the girl. The young hunter had only mentioned one relative so far, a sister, but even then, he'd changed the subject before the Doll could pry further. Could this sister be the girl in her vision?

The feeling petrified her much like a terrifying beast, driving away any sense of reasoning and leaving only instinct. She couldn't help but think about the poor hunter. She thought about Master Gehrman, and his pity for the boy. She thought about the girl's struggle to free her sibling from the cruel night.

With these thoughts fresh in her memory, she took a deep breath, folded her hands, and began to pray.

"O Flora…of the Moon…of the Dream…" she spoke, her tone was as calm as the situation would allow. "O Little Ones, o fleeting will of the Ancients…" Her mind recalled the little girl's voice, the mention of the young hunter's name. The Doll felt the same feeling wash over her, overtake her. The strange feeling was much like a terrifying beast; it kept her form rooted to the dirt as she prayed.

Could this be sorrow?

The Doll took in a shuddering breath, and continued. "Let the hunter be safe. Let him find comfort."

Yes, protect him from the beasts. Help him to find his way back home.

"And let this dream, his captor, foretell a pleasant awakening…"

Let him escape this nightmare, awaken to the serenity of the waking world, to the ones who love him.

"Be, one day, a fond, distant memory…"

Let not the siblings' fight be in vain.

Her eyes snapped open at the soft, distant thud of footsteps. Oh. He's here. Slowly, she stood, gently brushing off the leaves that clung to her dress. She glanced behind her, and caught the gaze of the young hunter, determination shining in his eyes.

"Ah, welcome home, good hunter," the Doll greeted. "I must have drifted off. What is it you desire?"

Beneath the hunter's garb of the Healing Church, Dipper Pines smiled.

I came up with this idea while I was in my creative writing class last year. I absolutely love Bloodborne, and I felt the paranormal setting in Gravity Falls fit the game quite well. Anyways, thanks for the support, and have a happy new year! :)