To describe Dipper's mental state in one word, it would be tired.
To describe it in two words, it would be sleep deprived.
To describe it in 22 words, it would be: constantly tormented by the image of an evil dorito chip who wouldn't leave him alone and let him get some goddamn sleep.
Okay, maybe that was 23, if you counted contractions as two words. Anyway, Dipper was tired.
He sat on the back of a nearly empty greyhound bus, sketching in his journal under the small glow provided to him by the overhead light. He was drawing a picture of Bill. The Bill he drew was demonic looking, a twisted pyramid with six arms, spitting fire at everything in sight. The image was from a recent dream. He finished his shading and tapped his pencil lightly on the page before writing something. He drew strange symbols, bits of his personal code, his hand was feather light, he wrote with practiced grace and elegance. What he wrote were warnings only he could read. He bit his lip when he finished and flipped forward a few pages, hovering his pencil over the paper, before sighing and closing the book.
Dipper leaned back on his chair, and listened. He listened to the the soft static of the radio, and the rumble of the engine over worn highway. There were 2 people in the row ahead of him, an elderly couple, he listened to them snore. He listened to his own breathing. He looked out the window. It was too dark to see the scenery and all he could make out was his own ghostly reflection.
He had changed so much since the last time he made this trip into Gravity Falls. He was a man now, with a defined chin, and a whisk of a beard. His hair was still shaggy, but it was shorter than it had been, revealing his constellation birthmark for all to see. Like his grunkles, he now wore glasses, which helped to nurture his nerd aesthetic. His face was still pale, but dark bags now weighed down his eyes. He was gangly and tall, and, in a word, adult. Dipper held his journal tight and looked away from the man in the window.
He hummed, a deep sound which had been shaped by the whim of puberty. He'd be in gravity falls in 3 hours time, long enough to catch some Z's. Maybe, just maybe he could close his eyes a little. He flicked off the overhead light, plunging his seat into a darkness which he allowed to carry him into sleep.
Frustration incarnate greeted him.
In his dream, Dipper sat in a fold up chair, gazing at a stage with closed curtains. Audience members were around him, faceless entities occupying the other seats. They were all dressed in formal attire. Dipper felt underdressed.
The lights dimmed, the curtains opened.
A voice boomed. "Hey Pinetree, miss me?" Leaning on his cane in his usual bowtie and tophat garb, was a familiar triangle.
The faceless audience clapped.
"Bill." Dipper spat, standing from his chair and yelling, "Go away. Let me sleep."
The faceless audience gasped at this.
"Ha, why would I do that? I'm a dream demon kid,"Bill snapped his fingers and Dipper teleported on stage. He now had his own spotlight. The audience laughed. Bill went on, "this scape is my element. I can do whatever I want here, watch!" There was a flash of light, and Bill's form twisted and grew. The audience oohed and ahhed.
Dipper stood his ground, looking unimpressed, upset, and underwhelmed. He wouldn't give Bill the satisfaction of amazement.
From the flash of light emerged a young man. He had messy blonde hair, chocolate skin, adorable freckles, and a long flowy yellow coat. He had one glowing blue eye, and one eye covered by a leather patch. He had a pointed bow tie, and a top hat, and long gloves and buttoned boots, each item was black as night, safe for the yellow ribbon wrapped around his hat. He still leaned on his cane, which was now a carved walking stick, with a small triangle on top. And this man, Bill, he was incredibly hot.
The audience cheered.
Dipper felt his stomach leap, his mouth hung open a little.
The new Bill sauntered up to Dipper. The handsome demon was half a head taller than the human. He smiled fondly and tilted up Dipper's chin with one hand, winding his other hand around Dipper's back and pulling him close.
"Do you like this form?" Bill asked, in a sweet purr. "I looked in your mind, to make myself...heh" He brushed one hand over Dipper's cheek, and the other down Dipper's spine, his blue eye was almost hypnotic. He leaned forward, Dipper could smell him, he smelled like pine trees, and blackberry bushes, and dirt after a rain storm.
The stage the pair were on seemed to come to life, a single heart shaped spotlight was on them, music surged from somewhere in the audience, the sound of an orchestra. The background lit with pink light.
Dipper's breathing hitched. His face felt warm. He found himself, as if in a trance, leaning forward for a kiss. The audience had gone silent, hushed, anticipating.
But Bill broke the mood. "Perfect!" he laughed. Leaning away and leaving Dipper in a helpless daze. The audience laughed. "I think I have a winner with this body! Thanks for letting me test run it here pinetree, not that you had much of a choice." He booped Dipper's nose, "Anyway, you and me? We'll hang out soon, how does," He snapped his fingers and a calender appeared before him with odd dates scratched onto it, as did a floating desk chair, which he sat in, crossing his legs. He tapped a pen against his chin. "This morning around 10am-ish sound?"
"Wh-what? No way Bill!" Dipper yelled, trying to recover his wits. "Never. Just, leave me alone!"
"It's a date then!" Bill wrote down something on his calendar, and it disappeared, along with his pen. "See you soon kid. Now, I think it's time for you to-"
"Wake up, sir." Dipper jumped awake,his dream fading quite quickly with the sudden call to reality. The bus driver was standing above him, "end of the line." She said.
The bus looked fuzzy to Dipper. He adjusted his askew glasses and blinked, focusing his world. The sun was up, only barely. "Oh, um," He scrambled for his things, "Thank you ma'am." He pressed his notebook to his chest, shouldered his backpack, and stumbled off the bus into the cool morning air.
The birds outside were chirping their daily tunes. He pulled his hood around his head. It was a cold autumn day in Oregon.
The mystery shack was a mile away on foot. Dipper started walking. On his way he noted a few oddities, a couple gnomes, a unicorn or two frolicking in the distance, and one 2 headed frog, which he had studied for a second before making a quick sketch of it and walking on.
As he walked, his mind turned to his dream. It had mostly faded, like all the others. But he remembered Bill. Bill had been in his mind night, after night, after night. The dreams were getting so bad that he was tempted to seek psychiatric help. He was off to see Ford to determine whether these dreams were the result magic, mad science, or insanity.
The walk wasn't long, or it didn't seem as such. Time always passed faster when Dipper was lost in thought. He got to the shack at 8am. He stopped to take in the old sight. 7 years, and the shop hadn't changed a hair. Dipper found himself smiling. He went to the door and opened it.
Behind the cash register, was Soos.
"Hello, welcome to the mystery-Dipper?"
"You renamed the place after me?" Dipper teased, "well, I have to say, I'm flattered, but you didn't have-."
Suddenly Dipper was being bear hugged. "Dude, I've missed you like, so much!" Soos enthused. "You've gotten so big, and" He gasped pulling back, "Dude, you have a beard. Are you aware of how awesome that is?"
Dipper laughed. "Ya, it's pretty cool. Thanks Soos, I've missed you too. Sorry I didn't call, I-"
"Explain later dude, I'm taking you out to breakfast." Soos declared, "Go put you stuff down, let's get to Greasy's."
Dipper grinned "Alright man, sounds like fun." He put his stuff behind the counter as Soos locked up. Dipper almost put his journal down with his things, but thought better of it, tucking it under his arm and grabbing a spare pencil to keep in his pocket.
The pair left the Shack shortly after, on the hunt for food.
As they walked, and talked, however, Dipper felt as if he were forgetting something important. A date perhaps? Oh well, if it were that important he would remember, right? He piled into the golf cart with Soos, pushing aside wrenches, hammers, and gardening tools, and the pair were off, driving across the long dirt road.
What he didn't see was the dark, grinning figure leaning up against a tree. The figure watched as Dipper and Soos disappeared.
Thank you for reading! Reviews and constructive criticism are always welcome (seriously, I could use the feedback) and will be responded to at the end of the next chapter! Have a nice day!