He turned and began to walk away, his lean form hunched over very slightly. He was soaking wet, his black sleeves sticking to his arms and his yellow shirt so wet that he wrang it out constantly and it was still full of water. His black jeans stuck to his legs, and his sneakers nearly slipped on almost every wet surface they touched.
His blonde hair was plastered to his head, and his eyes were on the ground, not bothering to look up at anyone, knowing that they would just either scowl or laugh at him, instead of caring about a teen walking down the road.
His bag was soaked, and he knew everything inside it would be too. He reached into it and pulled out a few quarters and went to a phone booth to make a call.
He was about to push in the quarters, but paused once he realized what time it was. It was 11 PM, and it was late, especially for the person he was trying to call. Oh well, maybe he'd pick up anyway. He dialed the number and was put through.
On the third ring, he picked up. It sounded like he'd just woken up, and Bill almost wished he'd never called at all.
"Hello?" A sleepy-sounding voice answered the phone.
"Pine Tree?" He said, and hated how weak his voice sounded. He hadn't had anything to eat in a few days, and it was taking a toll combined with all the walking he was forced to do everyday.
"Bill? What are you doing, calling me from a pay phone?" He asked, and his voice held a snatch of worry that Bill hung on to.
Bill nearly hung up the phone then and there, but he sighed and continued the conversation. "I'm… I'm… " He started but then quickly hung up the phone. He couldn't do it. He couldn't ask Pine Tree for help. Not after what happened.
He stayed in the phone booth, mostly because it wasn't wet or particularly cold, so he had a bit of shelter. The thunder made him jump all night, along with the lightning, and he didn't get any sleep. Eventually a cop pushed him out of there in the morning, with thankfully the rain gone, so he continued walking.
He didn't know where exactly he was going, he just knew it was away from the Pines. He couldn't go back there after what happened. He kept walking, and he started to daydream to pass the time.
It was a nice scene, where it wasn't wet, and his shoes weren't worn through, and he didn't have to have a bandage over one eye. There were no druggies to try to steal, rape, or kill him. There were no cops to push him out of every little slip of happiness that happened to him. It was warm, and his stomach wasn't yelling and gnawing at him, trying to eat him from the inside.
But even better, there was Pine Tree there. He didn't look at him like he was some kind of freak, it was almost like they were friends. Almost. He sat down on a couch, and it was soft and comfortable. There was food on the table, and a bed in the corner.
Bill was jolted back into reality when someone tried to snatch at his leg. It was another druggie, and they looked like they were on withdrawal. It was a female this time, which meant she was probably a thief, prostitute, or both. Her eyes were wide, and she was even skinnier than Bill himself was, which probably meant that they were a heroin addict, which made sense. Heroin prices had skyrocketed, and every druggie that had been on heroin had tried to rob him.
He kicked the woman, and her already broken glasses snapped in half. He ran as she was stunned, not wanting another injury like the one with his eye. That had taken weeks to heal over and scar, and he couldn't see out of it anymore. He still wore the bandage, because there was no point in taking it off.
He tried to run as long as he could, but he had grown rather weak since he had last eaten. He was forced to stop after a few minutes, much to his dismay. He tried to run faster, but he collapsed, his last thought before blacking out a hope that he wouldn't wake up.
He had a nightmare. It was dark, and wet, and there was nearly nothing in sight. It appeared to be the woods around Gravity Falls, but it was somehow… creepy. He wasn't going to lie, he liked things dark and abnormal, but this was different. It had an atmosphere of unease that settled over the place like a wet blanket.
"Cipher." Came a voice that sounded like a hundred different people at once. It went silent after the single word. It sounded like a command, but nothing was happening around him.
No sooner had the thought entered his mind when a dozen hands came out of the forest, holding him in place. He was reminded of when he was raped, when he was overpowered the first time. Remembering that, he fought tooth and nail, refusing to be made someone's bitch a second time.
The hands were strong, and they held him in place. Suddenly another pair of hands came out, but they didn't latch onto him. They traced his face, his body, before trying to undress him. He let out a scream, before jolting awake. He could hear someone screaming after a few minutes, before realizing it was him.
He shut his mouth quickly, looking around him. He took deep breaths to get rid of the feeling of the dream, and he tried to calm down. He took inventory of his things to make sure no one had stolen anything. He found a boot tread on his pants where someone had stepped on him, but he wasn't dead or stolen from, so he was incredibly lucky, save for the fact he woke up, to his dismay.
He tried to get up, but he was still so tired, even from his blackout. He realized he was surrounded with blood, and noticed his arms were all cut up. He pulled out the bandages he saved after he was injured the first time, and pulled up his sleeve. There were several cuts there, and he bandaged them all, pulling his sleeve over them. He did the same for the other arm.
He stood, this time with more determination, and managed to stay on his feet, even after feeling light headed for a few minutes. He started walking again, staggering slightly, but he wasn't sure if it was from starvation, exhaustion, or both.
He finally managed to find a few dollars in mostly quarters and dimes. He went into the nearest food store, and bought as much food as he could. He ate as much as he had, and it still wasn't enough to fill his stomach. He knew he needed food, but he didn't have any money to get more. He refused to eat out of the garbage, out of pride, but he knew he would probably have to soon.
He walked along, keeping his head down, when a car started following him. He noticed after a few blocks and turned, mostly to make sure it was following him and he wasn't overreacting about a simple car on the street. It turned with him, twice, and he wanted to run, but it was all he had to keep trudging on the sidewalk, much less running through grass and up hills, or through parking lots and up stairs.
He noticed the person inside had brown hair and a baseball cap on, but he couldn't make out any faces through the tinted windows. The car followed him through the afternoon and into the evening, and he tried to lose it at least three times. A car following him was a dangerous thing, he knew that much. He walked into an alleyway to sleep for the night, too tired to try to run from the car, when the car door opened.
His eyes widened as the driver walked into the alleyway. He had been right, the newcomer did have brown hair and a baseball cap on. But now that he saw their face, he shrank farther into the corner of the brick at the end of the alleyway, counting on the shadow to hide him from the newcomer.
Dipper looked around, looking for Bill. He knew he was here, he just knew. He followed a person that looked like him, but was unhealthy, skinny, bloody, and beat-up. He didn't know a Bill Cipher like that, but he still followed the person. He had a hunch it was Bill, and he was fairly certain he was right. He saw a figure huddled in the corner, and he walked over there.
It was the person he'd been following all day. He was a teen, not much older than himself, and he looked damp, like he'd been out in the rain the night before, which was highly likely. He was extremely skinny, and he had a bandage over one eye. His clothes were ripped, and filthy. He looked like he hadn't had a shower in weeks, and his hair, which was probably blond, had been turned to brownish black.
"Bill?" He asked, frowning as he stooped down on his knees to get to eye level with the other person. They flinched, and inched farther away from him.
"Go away, Pine Tree." They said, and Dipper knew it was Bill when he said that. He had been the only one to ever call him that.
"I'm going to help you. You called me last night." He said, trying to pull Bill to his feet.
"I shouldn't have woken you up. I should have just left you alone." He said, resisting him. He rested his head on his knees and the other knew just how tired the other was. He picked up the homeless teen bridal-style, knowing that he was too weak and tired to fight him.
"Let's go, Dorito. I'm not just leaving you here. You're coming back to the shack." He said, ignoring the other's weak attempts at getting out of his arms.
"Why are you helping me? I tried to destroy you, and all your friends. I don't deserve your help. Leave me alone." He said, somehow breaking out of his arms. He stood tall for a moment before collapsing, his legs not being able to hold him up anymore. He fell to his knees, and Dipper heard him hit the ground with what sounded like a small crack.
"Bill. You're starving, you're exhausted, you're all cut up. Your eye is messed up. Let me help you." He said, frowning. He went to pick up the teen again, but Bill pulled out a knife, ready to defend himself.
"Leave me alone." He said, holding it between him and Dipper. His hand was shaking from the two-pound weight of the knife he was holding. He saw Pine Tree step back a bit, before his face hardened in determination.
"Fine. But I'm still going to sit here with you while you die of starvation or sleep deprivation or whatever other problems you have going on." He said, folding his arms and sitting down in the alleyway. Bill was going to argue, but saw his resolution and sat down next to him, determined not to accept Pine Tree's help, even though he knew he needed it.
Unfortunately for Bill, he blacked out from exhaustion soon enough, and Dipper carried him to the car, put him in the backseat with a blanket over him, and started to drive the three hours back to the Mystery Shack. The teen in the back slept the whole way, warm with the blanket.
Dipper walked in, carrying Bill, who was still asleep. He opened the door quietly, and when he saw Ford and Stan give him a questioning look, he shook his head and motioned for them to be quiet. He walked upstairs and put him in Mabel's bed, who was away at college.
He handcuffed him to the bed so he couldn't leave before Dipper woke up, and then he got some sleep himself, as it was getting late. He climbed into bed and turned out the light, falling asleep rather quickly.
He woke up the next morning to swearing and struggling. He sat up to find Bill trying to get loose of the handcuffs that Dipper had put on his wrist. Dipper quickly got up when he saw that Bill's wrist was close to drawing blood from struggling.
"Bill, stop." He said, forcing the former demon to sit down on the bed, and then sat down next to him. He sighed as he watched Bill scowl at him, still muttering curses that would make a sailor blush.
"You just couldn't mind your own damn business, could you? You had to be a knight and save the fucking dying homeless teenager your uncles made. You couldn't just leave me alone." He said, nearly spitting out the words. Dipper sighed.
"I saved you because you were dying. You needed help. At least act a bit grateful, asshole." Dipper said, fed up with taking his insults. "Now come on. I'm going to watch you make those ribs disappear." He said, unlocking the teen and dragging him by his wrist to the table, where Stan was making food.
Bill started fighting harder as soon as he saw Stan. "Let me go! I don't need your help! You let me go right now! This is kidnapping!" He yelled, making threats and yelling profanity. Dipper ignored him and handcuffed him to a chair, taking a plate of food and placing it in front of him.
"Eat." He said, handing him a fork. Bill scowled, but ate the food put in front of him. It was obvious he was starving, and Dipper thought it was a wonder that he had any self restraint at all. Eventually he finished the plate, and Dipper put it in the sink, ready to face Stan.
"Why did you bring home the demon?" Stan asked. Ford walked in, took one look at Bill, and asked the same question.
"Because he needs help." Dipper said, folding his arms. Bill started to protest, but he was rewarded with a pancake shoved in his mouth to shut him up.
"He tried to kill us." Ford said, shaking his head disapprovingly. Dipper began to explain but was cut off. "No. We turned him into a human because he tried to take over the world. He doesn't deserve your help. Put him back wherever you found him." Ford said, his arms folded.
"So you want me to just put him back onto the street where he was starving, getting sick, getting cut up, and dying?" Dipper said, scowling. Ford's face softened a small bit as he looked at Bill, who had finished the pancake and was watching the conversation with mild interest. You could still see his ribs, as they were quite prominent. His eye was still covered with the dirty bandage, and he was still filthy.
"What happened to your eye?" Stan asked, and Bill looked away.
"It's nothing. I can't see out of it anymore." He said, without making eye contact.
"What happened that made you not see out of it?" Dipper asked, frowning.
"It's nothing." He said, shaking his head. But they could almost all see it written on his face, something traumatic had happened, and he had probably lost half his sight during the event.
"What happened to you?" Dipper asked, mostly to himself. Bill didn't look up, and they didn't press him.
"Fine. If you can get him cleaned up, and mostly healthy, he can stay, and work either with you or in the Mystery Shack." Ford said, surprisingly. He probably relented after seeing Bill and how he avoided them at all costs. How he seemed almost fragile, almost broken, like he was about to snap, or already had and was glued back together.
"Alright. Bill, come on." Dipper said, unlocking his wrist. He pushed him into the bathroom with a clean tee shirt and jeans, along with a pair of sneakers, and left him alone for about 15 minutes. He waited outside the door to make sure Bill didn't leave.
Fifteen minutes later, the door opened and Bill came out, dressed in the clothes that Dipper had supplied, which composed of a short sleeved Mystery Shack tee shirt and a pair of jeans. Dipper's eyes locked on the bandages that covered the blonde's forearms.
"I don't know where they came from. I woke up and I was all cut up." Bill said, noticing the other teen's stare.
"...Right. Come on, we need to have Stan show you where you will be working." He said, pulling the other teen along. Bill reluctantly followed, not really fighting this time.
"Hey, Pine Tree?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
"You're welcome, Dorito."
