Chapter 1

The forest was dark, the night heavy and black, full of a deathening chorus of nocturnal creatures. Crickets played an eery symphony, owls shrieked from distant trees and the odd twig would snap under the weight of an unknown creature, pacing it's way through the moist bracken and dead leaves.

There was a whooshing sound, and the forest fell silent. It hadn't been the usual swoop of air under the wings of a nighttime hunter, but a sound much more alien. With silence upon the forest, the cold seemed to grow bitter, a chilled breeze sighed between the trees and the whoosh could be heard again, but this time a low, pained moan came with it.

A dull golden glow began to appear in the distance, gently at first, then it grew more intense. Gliding into view. A triangular shape not unknown around the area of Gravity Falls.

The triangle seemed to flutter mid flight, then sank to the ground, fatigued. Two small black arms propped him up from the damp grass, but his one eye was closed, his hat flopped over almost in defeat. Yet his grip on his cane grew tighter, his arm beginning to shake with anger that was overtaking him. Immediately, the forest lost it's colour and time halted.

Bill threw his head back, opened his eye and screamed with fury into his dreamscape. The cry echoed on for what seemed forever, until Bill sunk back onto his knees and dulled the flames that were dancing behind his iris.

"I can't believe it!" Bill grimaced, lifting an image of a boy from nothing. The young boy was none other than Dipper - his determined grin peering from beneath his pinetree hat. "How could I be outwitted by two idiot kids!" Another image appeared, a young girl who bore a striking resemblance to Dipper. It was Mabel. Smiling sweetly in a shooting star sweater. Bill held back another scream, his pupil shrinking as fire grew all around him. Finally another picture drifted from the space infront of him, an elderly, unattractive man, sporting a fez and wearing a suit. Stan Pines.

"There's something interesting about you three." The dream demon said out loud, pointing a black finger at Stan's nose and frowning, "I know lot's of things. But there's something about you I'm missing. What is it?" The three images began to rotate around Bill, he studied each with great interest. "The journals are connecting us, I know that. I have always known that. But I had no idea you would prove to be such a pain in my triangular butt."

He groaned again, lifting his head and pretending to wipe sweat from his forehead.

"As much fun as experiencing pain was, I can still feel that pinetree's body failing on me. I didn't know feeling exhausted was so tiring." The three images immediately disappeared and Bill was out of his Dreamscape, propped up against a tall tree in the forest once again. "I need to find out why these morons are so important... I can get into their heads and read their darkest secrets while they're asleep - but I've done that at least five times already." Bill scratched his chin thoughtfully, stopping to adjust his bowtie after a moment.

"Maybe," he continued, "Maybe I'm snooping in all the wrong places. The human mind is so small and insignificant, I need to observe them in person and not through their minds..." A finger raised in the air as an idea popped into his head. "That's just it! I need a vessel I can possess. I can earn their trust and snoop in the Mystery shack when their backs are turned. It's perfect!"

He rose into the air. But struggled and panted with the effort. Regardless, his determination kept him going and eventually the dream demon came to a long road. Once dark and eery, now it reflected the glow of the rising sun. It was definitely heading the direction of the Mystery Shack, and Bill's many trips into Stan's mind told him plenty of coach-dwelling tourists found themselves within the highly priced confines of the Shack's gift shop. All he had to do was wait for a coach to drive past and nab a vessel.

It took less than an hour for the first coach to arrive, and Bill glided through it's metallic walls, invisible to the few passengers aboard. His flight was wobbly and he was surprised he still felt fatigue, but he shrugged it off and eyed up the potential suitors.

There was an elderly couple on board, both sickeningly old. Bill could see their death counters above their heads shrinking with every passing minute. The old man wouldn't survive the holiday, his wife would probably die of grief. How simple. How pathetic. Humans were so weak willed and so easily attached it made Bill snigger.

Another option was the coach driver. He was middle aged, and the steering wheel almost rubbed against his protruding stomach as he drove along the winding road. There were coffee stains down his uniform and a yellowing beard which suggested he smoked. Bill rejected that concept immediately, he refused to have an unhealthy host if he was staying for an extended period of time.

Finally there was a young teenage boy. His rucksack was chucked recklessly onto the seat beside him, shaggy brunette hair covered his head and his skin was deeply tanned. The boy's blue eyes stared with boredom out of the window, and Bill decided he was the only acceptable choice he had. All in all, the boy's body was in good shape. He was a little on the skinny side under his navy hoody and dark jeans, but he was in a better state than the elderly couple and the driver.

"You must be on your way to visit family or whatever," Bill's golden form floated unseen by the young stranger. "I'm sure they won't miss you." A thunderous laughter erupted from the dream demon as he launched himself into his new body.

The boy gasped and stiffened in his seat, his eyes momentarily rolling back into his head at the shock of his new master.

Right at that moment, a doe darted into the road, causing the driver to slam on the break with a choked cry of alarm. The new vessel's head dropped forwards from the force, slamming into the seat infront of him. Bill inhaled as if to shout in defiance, but he was cut short as the pain erupted through his head and everything went dark.

"Jeez, it's a hell of a gash.." A deep, gruff voice stirred him into conciousness.

"Do you think we should call an ambulance?" It was still dark, but a young girl's voice was clearly audible in the whispered murmuring of voices. They were all above him. Surrounding him. But it was so dark. Was he dead?

"Hang on. I think there's a first aid kit inside, we can butterfly stitch it shut." This third voice was a girl's too, but older than the first. Definitely a teenager.

"Wendy, wait up! I'll help you look!" That must of been a young boy. His voice was cracking a little with the urgency of the situation. A dull pain began to throb, and light began to filter through the slowly opening eyelids as the unconcious boy began to slowly come to.

"Oh thank god you're not dead. Although that would've been great for publicity." An old man blocked out the sun, towering over the broken body on the floor. The pain in the boy's head increased and instinctively his hand fluttered to nurse it, only to retreat with smears of fresh blood.

"Can I leave this guy with you?" A voice from behind him croaked, the boy hadn't the energy to turn his head to look. It was another man's voice, "I've gotta keep going on my route and he's made me late as it is."

"What? Why would-"

"Yes!" The old man was cut off by the young girl, who had unashamedly thrown her arms around the wounded strangers neck and hugged him tightly to her chest, "We'll make sure he's one-hundred-percent not broken anymore! You can trust us!"

"Alright, whatever." Already the man's voice was distant. He was leaving. Moments later there was a deep roar as a large engine started up and thundered away. The girl was still clutching the injured boy to her chest protectively. The old man groaned.

"For God's sake Mabel. No we can't keep him."

"But Gruncle Stan! He's hurt! We can't just leave him like this!" Mabel stared big eyed and pleading at her 'Gruncle'. The injured teenager pulled himself weakly from her grip and propped himself up on his arms.

"Where am I?" His voice was coarse and dry, only now did he realise how thirsty he was. "What happened?" He clutched his throat as he stared at the two forms before him.

"Let me get you some water!" Mabel darted from her Gruncle's side and into the building behind them. Stan stared down his unwelcome visitor with distaste.

"Who are you?" He clearly stated, answering the boy's questions with another question. There was a long pause, broken only by the clutter of glasses inside the building as Mabel tried to pour the boy some water. Finally, the teenager dropped his gaze, his sky blue eyes dropping to the floor and at the specks of blood that had dribbled from head.

"I'm... I... I don't know..." He winced, rubbing the side of his head with his cleaner palm, "I... I think... Will? I think my name's... Will..." He glanced back up at Stan hopefully, "Yes, that sounds right."

"Will?" The old man repeated, frowning. After a moment of silence, he snorted, "Well, Will, we don't take kindly to freeloaders here. So you can stay until your better, but as soon as your fit to leave you're out of here. Capiche!?" A stubby finger prodded into Will's chest and Will nodded nervously.

"Stan, leave the poor kid alone!" The teenage girl was back, followed closely by the younger boy and his sister Mabel. "He's had a bad day, let us fix him up before you start bullying him."

"Seriously, Wendy? Don't tell me you have the hots for this kid too?" Stan crossed his arms defensively and Mabel glanced enviously at Wendy just as Dipper glanced enviously at Will. Wendy rolled her eyes.

"Don't be stupid, he's way too young for me. Just go inside and watch TV, we can help the poor guy out." Wendy pointed to the door and Stan reluctantly obeyed - probably because of the promise of watching TV uninterrupted as the household fixed the broken stranger.

"My name's Will by the way." Will winced as Wendy cut thin strips of medical tape and used them to seal his wound. Every slight touch made him realise just how bruised his skull was. It made him feel dizzy, so he gratefully sipped the cold water Mabel had fetched him. He could see her from the corner of his vision, almost giddy with the excitement he was enjoying the water so much.

"And I'm Wendy." Wendy confirmed, then pointed at each of the siblings, "The lovesick schoolgirl is Mabel, and this little dude is her twin brother Dipper. That old guy is Stan, but he means well. He's just a master rip-off artist who'd rob you blind if you gave him the chance." All three of them laughed, and Will couldn't help but smile. Yet his head had begun to throb harder when he heard their names. He tried not to think about it and sipped more water.