Chapter Text
Dark red curtains, a pale, white wall, vaguely lit by the pale warmth of the bedside lamp. Mason’s eyes have been drifting between the various objects in the hotel room. He feels as if he’s a caged convict waiting to be interrogated by the police, who are just waiting to whittle him down to reveal the truth before they toss him into prison forever.
The Consortium has spread out its search for the Pines along the highways leading into West Virginia, towards Tennessee, and north towards New Jersey. But they won’t find them. For the timely intervention of Inspector Dermont, Mabel’s close companion and part time lover, has given Mason and his family their means of escape. But only for so long. He’s still on the other side of the law and according to most sources, Mason and his sister are wanted terrorists. They were already on thin ice with Mabel’s art heisting and the casino robbery, but now Inspector Dermont is almost ready to hand them over to the Consortium. The only chance they have is to convince him to join their side. As the sun begins to set over the horizon, Inspector Dermont has Mabel and Mason sequestered in the top floor suite of a large hotel located in the downtown section of the small city.
As Mabel is peppered with questions by Dermont in another room, Mason gazes out the window. With Liam resting on his shoulder, he wonders just how they’re going to manage this situation. Heaven and Hell, Order and Chaos; enemies on all sides, with the corpse of Nyarlathotep as the prize. Alcor can’t sense the statue’s presence, nor would he have any idea where to begin looking. For now, the ball is in Pennelope’s court. They’ll need to wait for her to turn up again before the Pines have a chance to take back the remains of the god of chaos. Mason hopes it isn’t too much longer, for every day she is splitting the power of the statue with more and more of her followers. The weaker ones will become avatars of Nyarlathotep's fragmented mind, taking on a dreadful shape of his design, like the one who recently just bit off Mason’s right arm.
And there could be countless others out there now. And yet, that isn’t the worst of it. For those who do not submit to Nyarlathotep’s thoughts will have all the power and magic of the god of chaos at their fingertips. Living deities on earth with a pension for utter destruction.
And even if the Pines can stem the tide of chaos, the fierce power of Smoking Mirror will still be upon them and all of the Earth. Alcor’s master had an insatiable desire for order in all things. There simply must be hierarchy or reality doesn’t deserve to exist. It’s as much madness as Nyarlathotep’s desire for chaos; a great power, a will to change things, that dwells within them. And drives them to order reality the way they want it to be. In many ways they are alike. So much alike that they are hated enemies. But they are also different. Whereas Nyarlathotep’s power was given to many servants and slaves over the millenia, Smoking Mirror’s power was held in the absolute, singular will of the mad deity. And as the dream demon needed to plan subterfuge, Smoking Mirror could easily annihilate a rogue planet or solar system. Hell, maybe even a galaxy. But he hates wasted efforts. He won’t strike just yet, not until he believes that Earth is beyond the reach of his purpose. Only then will he attempt to destroy them all.
But time is running out before Smoking Mirror does the inevitable. Mason’s memories of his other self carry glimpses of the aztec god’s true power. He could emerge from any wormhole near a rebellious world, or one taken by Nyarlathotep or Satan or any other dark power, and then wipe it out. But he wouldn’t simply destroy it in the present. He could tear down a world and then force his power back through time and destroy it over and over again, breaking down a whole planet’s timestream until it never existed in the first place. It could already be happening, somewhere in the future, and Mason, Nyarly, or even the Axolotl would be powerless to prevent it.
However, Mason must remain optimistic, for in giving into his fears he feeds the darkness of Alcor. His shadow, his darker half, his blackened past self. And that’s something he never wants to bring out again. Mason gives Liam a gentle pet with his left hand. He attempts to grab Liam with his right, only to remember the painful absence. The stump is bleeding again. But the bleeding isn’t that bad. It’s the phantom pain, the body’s memory of what used to be. Mason cringes in pain. The absent sensation is only barely managed by the 20 painkillers flowing through his system.
When Liam suddenly leaps away, Mason’s thoughts return to the present moment. He steps away from the window, approaching the door where Dermont and Mabel are, and listens. He can hear her awkwardly attempting to explain the circumstances behind the Pines becoming America’s most wanted, and failing. “It’s just- I can’t even begin-”
“You have to.” Dermont cuts her off, forcing her to reveal the journey of their last two weeks. It felt like a lifetime ago, when Mabel was heisting the painting drawn by Alcor. Mason never wanted to awaken his memories, for they were far too painful to confront. But in burying them, he only fed the dark Alcor and encouraged it to break free from Mason’s subconscious mind. And that’s where Mabel begins.
“That painting… It did something to my brother. Made him… sad. More sad than I've ever seen him. I tossed it out onto the road so it wouldn’t hurt him anymore. Didn’t ask why, just knew it was the right thing to do. That’s when we went to Paline Mord. There, we began to figure out the truth. Wendy’s mom was there. She claimed she had amnesia, but my brother was suspicious of her. Amnesia doesn’t just magically disappear because you met someone from your old life, right? And he realized that she had auburn hair.”
“How is that relevant?”
“A woman with auburn hair was behind that art museum director. And she had created a cursed play, one that was this- like, a super screwed up version of our own lives. My family, I mean. The theater owner mentioned her hair. And since that town had the most disappearances per population, we started to realize Penny was more than she seemed. We fought her off, but that’s when I first noticed my brother’s… difference. He became more aloof. Arrogant, even. But when Penny called him by his- I mean, our ancestor’s name, he lost it.”
“Alcor, I take it? I’ve heard some of those Consortium fellows call him that, but only the very higher ups. So who is he?”
“Uh… my great, great granddad,” she whispers. Doubt gnaws at her as much as it does Mason. He wants to believe that Alcor is merely a falsehood, an aspect of Mason’s soul gone haywire when Bill first possessed Mason’s body ten years ago. But now that he’s had time to think, he’s not so sure. Even before Bill first went inside his mind, he’s had visions, or dreams, of another life. Ones where he could fly, ones where he could run and leap across rooftops. Most kids dream of that. But most don’t also dream of being a demonic reptilian thing either. And if what Alcor says is true, Mason isn’t so much Alcor's descendant as his reincarnation, his split personality. The other side of the coin, if you will.
“I thought he was your brother,” Dermont growls.
“Mason is… but my ancestor’s spirit. Or energy or something, it possessed my brother. And now his family wants him back. They were going to destroy his memories. Turn him into something he’s not. They would have had him- forced him to kill me. So Alcor convinced my brother that the only way to escape was by falling into the trap itself. He… risked our lives.”
“Why?”
‘ Because she’s the one who saved me.’ Alcor stirs again in Mason’s thoughts. The demon’s persistence in reminding Mason that his sanity is hanging by a thread is fairly irritating. Mason doesn’t listen in on why Mabel believes Mason did it. He could hardly figure it out himself now. It all felt so clear when he shook Bill’s hand but now? All his thoughts are clouded with uncertainty and self loathing. It takes a while before Dermont let's Mabel go. Mason can’t imagine what she told him was anything positive. When the two step out of the room, Mabel’s eyes are bloodshot from crying. Dermont’s furious expression has hardly changed as he asks Mason to go into the room next. He’s ready to put him down if he has to. Mason wonders if he could make a break for it, but without his powers he wouldn’t make it. Dermont’s cops have been cycling in and out of the room every minute or so. Just as one leaves, another takes his place, stepping inside and putting a cup of coffee down on the table before going to the balcony. Mason turns back to the Interpol agent, Inspector Dermont, who insists he comes inside for a talk.
Stepping into the room, Mason takes a seat on the lone chair in the room, at the foot of the bed. After the inspector closes the door, he directs his harsh gaze towards Mason. He’s just heard of the dark deeds Mason committed under Alcor’s power. His simmering anger could drive him to turn Mason in. It’s far easier to place all the blame on him. Mason does, after all. But he has to play the part of someone who doesn’t blame himself if he wants to avoid Dermont tossing him to the wolves.
“So, Mason Pines. Why the hell did you try to blow up the capital building?”
“We didn’t.”
“Funny. Because your little camper exploded near the capital. Government has it pegged as a failed suicide bombing. Now I know you two aren’t psycho enough to purposefully want to kill all those people. But you had it built to blow. Why? Trying to take the senate hostage for millions of dollars?”
“What, no! I… the RV blew?” he whimpers. Last he saw it, the camper was smashed to pieces by a Consortium truck. Without their mode of transportation, Pacifica and her group would have been forced to flee on foot. But they didn’t… they couldn’t have. Could they? “When did it happen?”
“Close to one in the morning. Do you have an alibi?”
“I was… my sister and I were taken a little after midnight. We were being followed by the Consortium when I offered up their enemy, Penny Patterson. She was responsible for that art piece. I knew the Consortium wouldn’t let me go, so I figured we would play dumb. I pretended that they caught us off guard. Otherwise, they’d be wise to my plan. I had to… be there when he was there. So I let them take me. That’s what I was thinking at the time… I was wrong. I risked everything to avoid a terrible future, only to create a worse one. I should have run I- I killed Waddles. I… I just kept taking…” Mason is on the verge of tears now. At the start of this summer, the darkness was only just beginning to stir in his heart. Alcor had begun to whisper to Mason, slowly corrupting him towards his darker half’s way of thinking. But Mabel saw that, she understood it, and she put together the Cross Country Mystery Tour just to cheer the two of them up. She plotted a course taking them towards every supernatural hotspot left in the world, something she normally would have been bored out of her mind with. And she even brought the town of Gravity Falls to the middle of nowhere in Alabama just so they wouldn’t miss Summerween. And what did he do in return? He killed Waddles. He may not have pulled the trigger, but he purposefully played into the Consortium’s hands for a chance at power. Now Soos and Melody are dead and he has no idea where to even begin fixing this mess.
“I… I shouldn’t be here… it’d be better if I was in the ground.”
“So you admit you caused this?”
“They were going to kill my parents. Had them strung up and ready for sacrifice. I had to save them. But I- I should have… we had to prevent the curse from claiming Jezebel … damn it, no! It wasn’t worth it! But we could be so much more. The cycles of life and death need not hold meaning over us. Only through this power can we save the one we love… I can’t. I can’t. I’m sorry, Mabel… I’m a broken thing with broken dreams. Quack quack. ”
Only all too late does Mason realize what has been said. That damnable voice in his head began speaking through his own mouth. The bloody tears running down Mason’s face reveal the truth of his demonic self. Dermont has seen enough. He lifts Mason up by his shirt and tosses him out the door, ready to hand him over to the government in spite of Mabel’s protests. “You can’t! He’s my brother!”
“He’s the one they want, right?! He’s the one who caused all this! Those demons want him, not you!”
“I don’t care! Let him go!”
“He’ll lead them right to us!”
“LET HIM GO!”
Mabel slaps the rugged detective clear across the face, snapping him out of his panicked state. He looks stunned at how fiercely she’s defending Mason. Liam is right beside her, perched on her shoulder and belting out a high-pitched bark at the detective. defending Mason against being cast out to the wolves. Dermont slowly releases his grip on Mason’s neck, letting him get some much needed air. Well, not much needed anymore. His demonic body doesn’t need to breathe. His instincts still tell him he does, however.
After a few quick breaths, he stands back up, wipes the tears from his face, and glares at the once stalwart detective. He’s losing it, being on the other side of the law. He’s never known the danger of having to avoid the cops. Of ducking and hiding, lying through your teeth just to survive another day. And what’s worse, if anyone finds out he’s harboring the Pines, he’ll become a fugitive like them. The pressure is building and he’s about to crack. “You two… are you insane?! Do you think this is a situation you can get out of?!”
“We’re doing what we can! Of all the people in my life, certainly you should know that we aren’t monsters!”
“Do I?!”
“You shot those Consortium agents! You’re here for the long run, like it or not! They would have killed me! Had my parents sacrificed to their insane god! We had to save them!”
“I didn’t want to fight them!” Mason cries. “But it was too late to avoid confronting them! I just…” Mason pauses in the middle of his sentence. Something is tickling the back of his mind. A warning… an instinctual revulsion. But where is it coming from? As Dermont and Mabel continue arguing, Mason’s eyes are drawn towards the source of danger. Liam is looking at him, but that’s not where his thoughts are warning him to look. The inspector, his coworker, his… eyes. Those horrible, yellow eyes. Whether they are on the face of a stranger or in the mirror, Mason knows what those eyes mean. Death is here.