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Dipper had squeezed his eyes shut, but when he opened them, he gasped. His brown hair was as curly and fluffy as ever, but it stopped just at his ears. Dipper felt so light, like a weight had been lifted. And best of all, Mabel had had the foresight to leave his bangs so they covered his birthmark - just how he liked it. He looked… like himself.
Dipper couldn’t help himself from lunging to hug his sister. He and Mabel spun in their hug, laughing and cheering.
In their joy, they missed the sound of the front door opening.
Mabel was giddy, elation bubbling through her veins and making her laugh in her hug with Dipper. He looked like a boy! Mabel felt so proud of herself and so happy for her brother, and she knew nothing in the world could top this moment.
Which is why the bathroom door slamming against the wall made her world turn on its axis.
‘No. no no no nonononono this wasn’t supposed to happen.’ Mabel knew she wasn’t the smart one, but she had made sure to meticulously plan out when she did this. Their foster parents didn’t get home until after midnight, and it couldn’t have been later than nine.
Dipper froze in her arms, face paling and body shaking. It was obvious to Mabel what she had to do. Shoving her brother behind her, she turned to face the wrath of her foster dad.
She immediately wished she hadn’t. Usually, when he and their foster mom came home, they reeked of booze and went straight to bed. Tonight, however, she noticed that he didn’t look or smell drunk at all. The anger in his eyes was clear, not clouded by alcohol. His face red, he started shouting at them.
“Just what the fuck do you think you’re doin’, boy?” Mabel flinched at the last word. She wasn’t a boy, she knew it, she knew it. Her small lapse of silence only served to piss him off more.
The man grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him, practically spitting in her face. “I ASKED YOU A QUESTION BOY, AND I EXPECT YOU TO ANSWER ME!” Dipper shrieked and tried to reach for his sister, but their foster dad kicked him away. The boy skidded across the bathroom tiles and held his arms around his stomach, groaning from the impact.
“STOP!!! It was all my fault, I swear! Just leave hi-her alone!!” Mabel screamed at her foster dad. She felt the pit in her stomach ache when she used the wrong pronoun for her brother but dammit it was all she could do to keep him safe.
Their foster dad just gripped her arm tighter, and Mabel whimpered. ‘There’s no way that’s not gonna bruise.’ The man continued shouting at her as if she had never spoken.
“Should’a known you two were a coupl’a queers once I saw your fuckin’ arts ‘n crafts. I thought I told ya that shit was sissy stuff, and now you’re lookin’ the part too.” Suddenly, a thought seemed to dawn on the angry man’s face.
Mabel found herself being dragged to her and Dipper’s room, their foster dad tossing her to the ground and rifling through her stuff. Dipper must’ve collected himself enough to run after them, as Mabel felt him bolt to her side on the scratchy carpet.
The seething man had a sick smile on his face as he shoved clothes haphazardly into their bags. Mabel saw her craft bag on the bed and watched as her foster dad crammed her boy clothes into it. Dipper gasped, and Mabel could only look on in confusion.
Dipper pleaded with the man, “you can’t actually be serious?! Sir please, you can’t just toss us out!!” Mabel’s eyes widened as she realized what was happening. She was helpless as the enraged adult spun his head around to face them, a gleam in his eye and a wicked smile on his face.
“Matter a’fact I sure as shit can. If you two wanna act like queers then you’re not welcome in this house.” The man sneered and dragged the two kids downstairs, having shouldered both their bags.
In a last-ditch effort to fix things, Mabel looked around for their foster mom. She found her sitting at the kitchen table, a look of disgust on her face. She hadn’t been as mean to them about their interests, but it was clear this was where she decided to draw the line.
Mabel heard Dipper yelp in pain and whipped around, finding that their foster dad had already thrown him to the pavement. The man spun to face Mabel and quickly tossed her out too, the girl landing on her brother with a small shout. She felt the impact of two heavy bags hitting her back, knocking the air out of her lungs.
Tears gathered in her eyes as she took one last glance at the place they temporarily called “home.” Their foster dad just grinned, sharp and cold and wrong wrong wrong. He slammed the door shut, the noise echoing, ringing in Mabel’s ears.
She looked over at her brother, despair welling up inside of her. Dipper was still clutching at his stomach, and was looking back at her with fear-grief-guilt in his eyes. All Mabel could do was hug her craft bag to her chest, and think to herself…
‘This is all my fault.’
Everything had happened so fast, too fast for her to process. Mabel had messed up, and now she had gotten her brother tossed out onto the streets. She sniffled and scrubbed the quickly forming tears away. “W-What’re we gonna do, Dipper?”
The boy in question stared down at the backpack in his hands for a while. After a minute or two, Mabel watched him grip at the fabric tightly, before slinging it over his shoulders and getting to his feet.
Dipper held his hand out to his sister still on the concrete, a determined look set on his face. “What we’ve always done, Mabes. We’re gonna figure this out, and we’ll be okay.” Mabel swallowed down her raw bundle of emotions that had sat in her throat and took her brother’s hand.
“You’re right, DipDop. We’ll be okay.” Mabel let a brittle and watery grin take over her face.
“It’s me and you against the world.”
