WARNINGS: It's BillDip, and I would rate it MA if this site had an MA rating.

Violence? Yes.

Gore? No.

Rape/NonCon? Everything actually happens with consent, in a messed up way, but you could interpret it differently, so please be warned. Also, I can not guarantee what's gonna happen past chapter 5.

I'm so sorry for this, but I have really bad ideas sometimes and need to let them out in some form.
Dipper in this story is 21 years old. He's also absolutely nothing like the child he used to be.
So, what you get here is a very very dark and twisted Dipper, even more so in later chapters.
(Which one of them was the demon, again?)

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Tick, Tock.

Dipper had wanted to live alone.

To focus on his studies, he chose to live alone in a small flat. It was really not much, he had a room and a kitchen and could afford the rent with his part-time job in the bookstore. Mabel didn't live far from here, together with her boyfriend. Dipper had forgotten his name again. He forgot about everything that wasn't important. Makes more room for new information.
They visit him sometimes to watch movies, or to go to a bar together, and every time Mabel would ask if it really was okay for him. "You're not feeling like a third wheel or something, dips?" she would ask. He would tell her that it's okay, that he never really feels that way. Then Mabel would sigh and tell him to find some new friends, or a girlfriend for a change, a boyfriend for all she cares. He had told her once that he's unsure whether he's interested in both or nothing. It was a lie. He knows exactly what he wants.

Not much here.
A room, a kitchen, and a clock. Tick Tock.

These days didn't happen all that often. Days clouded by dark thoughts, not necessarily sad thoughts, but dark ones. Days when everything suddenly felt wrong, a very familiar kind of wrong. The feeling of being watched taking his every step and of being followed by his own shadow. Days when he would lie in bed for what feels like forever, trying to figure out what he wants. He knows, he knows. He just doesn't understand, and Dipper hates whatever he doesn't understand. He hadn't been able to figure out this one in years, and it bothered him. He wasn't able to come to any conclusion other than:
Dipper Pines, something is seriously wrong with you.

Maybe today, he thought.
Maybe it's not just my own shadow today.
Eyes only half open, he stares at his sketchbook. He's been drawing random monsters for the past two hours. Some he remembers from Gravity Falls, some just jumped out of his imagination. Every page had a certain shape somewhere on it, small and hard to notice. Triangles. The spell was once written on one of these pages, but he ripped it out ad threw it away, because he didn't want Mabel to see it. She loves to grab his sketchbook and look at the drawings, because she thinks they are great and that Dipper could become an artist if he wanted to. But Dipper wasn't interested in the act of drawing, he was interested in the things he drew.

Eyes hit the clock.
Midnight.
Tick Tock.
He should sleep, he's got two lectures in the morning and work in the afternoon.
But today it was bad. The feeling won't leave, won't let him sleep.
Are you here? Dipper asked in his mind.
Why is it that I feel like you're here sometimes, when you're not?
Is it even possible for you to be here?

"Triangulum, entangulum. Meteforis dominus ventium. Meteforis venetisarium."

He heard himself say the words as if it wasn't himself talking. He's tried so often. Nothing ever happens. Or does something happen? Is he here, laughing at the stupid young man trying to summon him? Watching him struggle maybe, even?
Dipper did not look or act desperately. He was careful not to do that, because there was always the possibility that he was watching. And Dipper won't show any weakness. Not until he has figured out what exactly it is that he wants. But the day went by, the comfortable darkness of the night embraced him, and nothing happened at all.

The next day however was the same, and that was new.
Never before had the strange feeling haunted him two days in a row. And Dipper should know, he kept a small journal about it ever since he was 14. That was when it all started. Mabel had noticed a few times. But Dipper had reassured her that when it happened, he was just having a bad day, or that he was missing Gravity Falls. He wasn't sure if Mabel believed him. She's smarter than most people would think.
"You're still here."
He said these words after waking up, after sitting in his bed for 30 minutes and focusing on the strange feeling, deciding if it was really still there or not. When he was very sure about it, he grabbed his journal and took note of the time and date.

Then he said it again.
"Triangulum, entangulum. Meteforis dominus ventium. Meteforis venetisarium."
Nothing, of course. Still, there's a change. Maybe today.

He had a quick breakfast, just cereals. He didn't have time for anything fancy. Mabel had often told him that he should eat more healthy stuff.
"Try natural yogurt with fruits, it's perfect for the morning – delicious and healthy!"
Dipper didn't feel like it.
Three minutes in the bathroom, a splash of water on his tired face. Didn't help against the dark shadows under his eyes, but he had learned to embrace them. Mabel had told him once that a friend of hers thought Dippers messy hairstyle, three day stubble and the constant dark circles under his eye made him look somewhat "sexy" and "mysterious". Hah. Mysterious. Yeah, right.
He stuffed his wallet, keys, cell-phone and laptop into his huge backpack. He was ready to go, but went back to his room one more time to get the journal, too. Something was different today, so he should try to record every small difference.

Then he wanted to leave, but he couldn't.
It was as if an invisible force tried to keep him in his room, tough nothing was there.
The sketchbook was still open from last night, on the desk next to his bed. Dippers fingers brushed over the open page.
He felt strange.
Weird.
Uncomfortable.
Tired, but not physically.

If you're really trying to not look desperate, you're not doing a very good job.

Wait, did he just think this to himself, or was it someone else talking?
Dipper blinked. He couldn't tell.
"Are you here?" he asked, the question that has been asked so many, many times.

Always.
Again, Dipper couldn't tell if it was his own thought or not.

"Show yourself."
The look on the young mans face darkened.

Do you really want that, Pine Tree?
His eyes widened. Is it happening? Is it finally, finally happening?
Or was it just his own imagination?
He took a deep breath.

Yeesh kid, I knew you'd miss me, but you're actually being kinda creepy about it. Look at what you've grown into! It's been a while. Lookin' fine sapling, I wouldn't mind possessing this body.

"Where are you?!", Dipper yelled without thinking, looking around himself, looking for the triangular shape that has been haunting his dreams for so many, many years.

I would've shown myself sooner, but as you might remember, I've been erased.

"You should have been able to come back when Stan recovered his memory. We all knew that and we all took the risk."

That's rich, kid. You were the one convincing the others that even if Stanley recovered his memory, I wouldn't be a threat anymore. Incredible that you even managed to convince good old Sixer.

Dipper heard the familiar laughter, but it sounded like it was far, far away.

But Stanleys recovered memories weren't enough to bring me back. So you technically don't have to feel bad about lying to your family, Pine Tree.

Of course this wasn't the reason.
The laughter seemed to come closer, it felt like it was reaching out to Dipper.

It was you, Pine Tree.
You and your strange obsession with me.

Dipper knew. It was his fault entirely.

However…

Dipper shivered. He still couldn't see anything, and he wasn't in the mindscape either. Everything was still in colour. He had started scratching his arms. A bad habit, showing that he was nervous.

I'm not back to full power and I won't be for a long time. But thanks to you trying to summon me multiple times over the past few years, drawing me into your cute little sketchbook about a thousand times, and thinking about me whenever you're not focusing on something else, I can now show myself to you, and you only.

"What do you want?", Dipper asked. He was shaking now.

HAHAH. Oh no, Pine Tree. You're not the one asking questions. You will tell ME what it is that you want so desperately.

The voice suddenly had a clear location. It was right next to Dipper, whispering the words into his right ear. He turned around, breathing heavily, but there was still nothing.

Why are you scared? You wanted me to be here so badly. If you tell me what you want, I might just give it to you, since thanks to your fucked up little head I'll be able to come back into this world, one sunny day.

Dipper was silent.

Speechless, huh? How about you give me access to your mind then? You might have guessed it, but I'm incredibly bored and you're the only person I can bother right now. If you don't know what you want, I would love to find out myself. How about a deal? Show me the darkest corners of your mind, Pine Tree. Let me in and I'll give you whatever it is that I find there, what it is that you want.

Then he noticed. The room had been drained of colours after all.
He was in the mindscape.
Something touched his shoulder from behind.
Without looking, without even thinking, Dipper grabbed the hand.
"Deal."