It was a hollow world, standing here alone on an endless expansion of water. Almost as if there was a surface just a centimeter before the water's face, Dipper stood above it, keeping his ankles dry but not the tops of his surprisingly warm feet. In fact, if it wasn't for this dream's eerie concentration on nothing, he would have grown curious about the almost bath-like warmth of the azure waters lapping childishly at his feet, encouraging him to take a step and fear not falling through.

After curling his toes several times, he concluded that yes, he was walking on water. Thus, he took a step, eyes locked on the water as if it were to give in a few moments, but once it trustfully kept its consistency, he found his eyes drifting along the vagary of friendly waves kissing the backs of his heel and sloshing between his toes.

He came to conclude that this dream was not only disinteresting, but also creepily consistent - dreams are more or less an awkward jumble of incoherent relationships between notions and concepts that have no business together. They never stay as life-like as the one before him was staying now; thus, the teen willed his concentration to summon something. He imagined his cherry red tent out in the camping trip he'd just come home from, closing his eyes and imagining the way the tall grass licked up against the tent's walls, creating fantastic shadows when it lit during the night. His sister and he had camped out at Flatwoods in search of its monster, an infamous one-time sight never to be seen again. Actually, they haven't seen it either; rather, they spent the entirety of their week there on energetic hikes or explorations, and while his sister deduced the legend to be bunk and lap up the forest as a plain old camping trip, Dipper hid the fact that he found a golden pocket watch a few days in, in rather sharp condition for the forest's treatment, save for the locking being sealed closed.

While his eyes were still shut, working at the conjuration of the camp to summon before him, a shiver embraced his neck and zipped through his spine. That locked pocket watch was the reason he convinced his sister to book it out of the vacation early, always waking him in his tent in the middle of the night with rushed ticking, only to taper off when the teen felt something push onto his chest, always while he was laying down. He wouldn't sleep for the rest of the night, and by the time he left, he had with him only a few restful nights.

Shaking his head at his own distraction, he opened his eyes to the fathomed forest - at least the one he expected, for his surroundings hadn't change a bit since he first shut his eyes. Clearly dishearten, squinting to the water's horizon against an almost black navy sky, he took a step forward and nearly jump when his foot came in contact with something cold.

Head snapped down to the innocent warm water still coyly dancing around his toes, he brought his foot up slowly to just barely see a golden glint.

The pocket watch.

Stumbling back and yanking in from the ground, he turned it over in his hands to investigate. He hadn't meant to summon it; in fact it was the last thing he wished to see in his dreams. Feeling along the design's metal grooves of a wolf standing in a rearing posture more common of a horse, he breathed a sigh of relief when he concluded it wasn't ticking. He played his fingers around the edges, feeling for any slight heartbeat of the watch's machinery ticking to life, yet as he found his thumb pressing against the fixed seal, all it took was the slightest push and the lock opened up as if it was never fixed shut in the first place.

A slight gasp of surprise barely past his lips before it morphed into a silent shriek, as the watch violently began a speeded tempo of ticking that echoed in the world around him. Dropping the watch, he turned to run. But the ticking still rang as clear as it did when he was holding it, no matter the distance he put between. Nevertheless, fear kept his feet in motion, only to have the kind waters betray him as a slip brought him down. Barely catching himself with his hands, it took coming face to face with the water to realize it had tinted black during his run to match the darkened skies. Before a confused expression could find its way onto his face, the feeling of a burningly warm hand gripped into his side and threw him over onto his back, earning a choke from the teen as his back met the surface with bursting pain.

He would've screamed, but that entity's weight pushed down on his chest making the air not fit into his lungs as it did moments ago. He couldn't even make out his aggressor; all he saw above him was an incredibly dark mass pressing into his ribs so hard he half expected to hear a crack. The weight only grew to taunt that threshold of breakage, and just as his ribs began a painful give the teen jolted up, in a chilled sweat dampening his bed.

Lumps of air swallowed in hurry did not ease the soreness in his lungs, nor did it drop his heart rate still panicked from the faint ticking he heard in his room. Although much softer and slower than from the nightmare's replica, it still was haunting. Pushing off the bed before any phantom force can press him back onto his back, he swept back his damp bangs with a cool hand before getting up in search of the watch. It laid in his backpack, still unpack from coming home from the trip yesterday. Although he intentionally left if back at Flatwoods, he discovered it back into his bag upon unpacking at home. Damn cursed objects.

As soon as he felt the cool metal upon reaching a hand inside to retrieve it, the ticking ceased. But that didn't save it from being taken out and away from the safety of his bag.

/

By the time the sun was rising, he was dressed and lounging along the couch of their family home, playing along the grooves of the rearing wolf on the watch's cover. Nicking the lock, it flew open with ease; after the dream the watch wasn't stuck shut, giving Dipper a fine view of the detailed Roman numeral layout stuck at twelve for both hands, hinting that it was never changed from its factory layout. It only served to make the teen pinch his brow in frustration, for he knew he heard it ticking. It can't be ticking whilst staying at the twelfth hour. It didn't make any sense.

"What are you doing up so early?" His sister yawned from behind him, jolting his hand to stuff the watch beneath the couch cushion before she could fully wake up and realize what he was doing.

"I-I couldn't sleep," he began, grasping for an excuse. Mabel rubbed her eyes before flopping down beside him, providing his excuse for him, "is it about this summer? We don't have to take a year off if you don't want to, Dip."

Of course that's what she thinks he's up about. In fact, rather than fiddling with a cursed object he fished out of some haunted woods, he should've been focusing on their mutual ultimatum to either go off to their college this summer or take a year break and get a grip on adulthood up at Gravity Falls. California is nice and all, but too much hustle and not enough adventure left the twins oddly unsatisfied. So when their parents asked if they wanted this year off, collecting a few more memories of their teen years up with their grunkle, they weren't sure what to choose. The Flatwoods trip was intended to be their last burst of mysterious adventure before breaking it to their parents they're going to college, but after the rush of adventure's adrenaline, the enthrallment of cursed objects, and the undeniable comfort only a forest seems to bring, the two twins agreed that this was a decision needing revisitation.

"No, no. It's not that, I really do want to. I'm just worried since we were two lucky kids who could've gotten killed." A sigh followed, for although he was preaching against going back to the Mystery Shack, he couldn't get the idea out of his head. Not with the pocket watch refreshing his curiosity for all things supernatural.

"Come on, we're way more experienced now! If it's danger you're worried about, then you're overthinking things," she encouraged, ruffling his hair as if he was a little kid confessing a fear of the dark.

"Am I? Who knows what we'll get into!" He voice did not sound one bit convincing, and Mabel was noticing despite the obvious sleep still heavy in her expression.

"I admit there's probably trouble ahead. But I know we've both been through enough trouble together to know we'll come out okay. So you gotta tell me, Dip; do you want to spend a year at Gravity Falls?"

A whole year. Not one of the short exciting summers that had littered their teens, a whole year of exploration and supernatural and even more cursed objects that'll make his ticking watch look like a toddler's toy. Despite the logic in him burning a rejection into his throat, when he opened his mouth, all he could say was "yes, let's go to Gravity Falls."

/

Needless to say their parents weren't surprised, and on the day they left they smiled and waved them off as if it was just one more summer, one more vacation. But their bags were heavier than all those summer send offs, packed thickly with nearly everything from their rooms save for the furniture itself. So much, in fact, that Stan and Soos had to help the twins bringing in all the luggage to their joint room, only for the twins to awkwardly admit this year they wouldn't be sharing a room and rock-paper-scissoring for the attic. Dipper won, yet that didn't dampen his twin's excitement as she bounced off to the spare room with Soos trailing behind her with all the bags.

The first night was the hardest. Not because this was the first time he had the room all to himself, but rather enduring all the hours he spent unpacking whilst Stan grilled him about his work hours; he's lucky his grunkle was so swept up in business to not notice the look of confused discomfort that flashed over the teen's face when he reached into his suitcase and found the golden pocket watch. He'd left it under the couch in California, hoping that if one move out of its state wasn't enough to stop it, than a second one is. Nevertheless, here it was, with him once more. He tossed it as casually as one can toss a cursed, stalking object into his nightstand, with Stan still too preoccupied with his jabber to notice.

It was the night though, with that watch in his dresser, that haunted him. After the awful nightmare the day before the decision to spend the year at the Mystery Shack, not a single tick was heard, nor dreams disrupted. Perhaps it was angry for having to move once more, because what it did that night reminded Dipper of the reason he left it behind in the first place.

All he heard was raindrops. No sight, no floor, just darkness and raindrops all around him. They hit his skin warm like the innocent waves of the former nightmare, but they had a sinister feel to them. It made the air feel emptier than it already was, forcing shivers he couldn't stop despite his relatively warm temperature. Only when a sliver of hope opened up along the horizon did he realize he shivered out of fear, but with the golden rays leaking through the distance he started rushing towards the skyline. He wanted out of this darkness so bad, the sound of raindrops were almost worse than the ticking. The raindrops drowned his thoughts and muted the world into static downpour, but he had an innate feeling that golden sliver of color was the solution. But before he could even get close, those invisible hands punched onto his ribs to throw him on his back with a smack, taking him so off guard that he hadn't had time to even shield his skull from earning some damage. Splitting pain dwarfing any migraine he's ever had throbbed in the back of his head, earning a pained hiss as his hand reflexively came behind his skull to cradle it. Poor move, however, as the entity came forward to straddle his chest and wrapping those burning hands around the base of his neck for a light choke, emphasized by his lung-crushing weight.

With the pain enraging him more so than scaring, Dipper opened his mouth to spit a curse to the monster only to stop abruptly when he heard it. That dreaded ticking.

He snapped his eyes shut and the raindrops disappeared. But when he opened them, mildly hopeful, he was mortified and shaking in fear to find himself in his attic room, pressed down onto the bed by an impossibly dark figure rivaling stygian blue. The tense ticks were fast yet muted, indicating their presence from within his nightstand. He couldn't breathe and he could feel the monster smiling at him despite both him and the room being too dark to decipher any features from. The entirety of the teen's body was paralyzed, but not from fear - although horror did freeze his veins - but rather, he was literally paralyzed. Not one of his limbs he command to protest the monster sitting on his chest moved, but just as his head began to daze and the brink of consciousness threaten to slip away, it was all gone. The monster, the ticking, the paralysis. All that remained was the very real terror and the very real pain aching along his neck and throat, complimented by the throb behind his head.

"Wha-?" Was all that he managed, checking his phone and finding it's only been a mere few minutes since he's fallen asleep. That was more than enough for him to leap out from his bed with the comforter cloaked around his aching body and ditch his now-eerie room to seek asylum with Mabel, regardless of the fact it was one in the morning. Although caution yielded him to shut the door quietly behind him to guarantee Stan wouldn't awake, he went straight to dive onto his slumbering twin's queen bed, landing with an "-Oomph!" There was a little squeak of surprise as Mabel shot up, a scolding dying on her lips for Dipper waking her up when she saw his rattled appearance. Paler than usual with bangs sticking together with sweat still fresh on his forehead, her tired groggy expression quickly transformed into concern.

"...What's going on, bro bro?" She was trying hard to stifle the sound of sleep in her voice when she said that, but she couldn't resist rubbing her eyes a bit.

"I-I don't know... I couldn't move... There was rain and darkness and ticking-" he abruptly cut himself off; Mabel isn't suppose to know about that damn watch. Luckily, his rambling was just incoherent enough for it to go over her head, and she backtracked.

"Dip, slow down, was this a night terror or something?" She proposed, a comforting hand rubbing his shoulder.

"I don't think so. I had this odd dream with this dark man suffocating me... But when I awoke, I swear he was still there."

Her eyes immeasurably enlarged in alarm, before he continued, "not anymore, though! He was sitting on top my chest, and I couldn't breathe. He was only gone when I began feeling lightheaded." Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, he barely brushed the base of his skull to feel the sting of the fresh bruise.

"Did he say anything?"

He sighed. "No, but... I just had this crazy feeling he was smiling at me. Like he enjoyed watching me suffocate."

Her brow knitted together, and she drew out a hiss, perhaps of realization or perhaps of protection. "Enjoying your suffering? Now that sounds familiar."

Before Dipper could toss her a confused look, it hit him. Terrifying dreams. The only creature they knew who controlled dreams was-

"Bill Cipher" she finished the thought for him, whilst he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration for not realizing sooner. Of course it was the dream demon that was giving him nightmares. The same demon that the twins ruined the world-dominating plans of and set him back decades of work. Sooner or later he was going to get back at them, and it seemed now was the time he decided to collect his debt.

"We've gotta talk to him somehow. He can't be doing this-"

"Talk?!" Mabel cut him off. "If you talk to him he'll just trick you into some deal! We gotta find a ward against him instead."

"A ward? And what happens when he breaks it? Did you forget the whole 'I'm-a-being-of-pure-energy' spiel he gave us?"

"He's a demon! If we ward against him, he'll get bored eventually and move on. Besides, how would we even go about talking to him when he chokes you in your dreams?" Any concern she had was replaced with the scolding she almost started with.

"That's easy, a summoning-"

"What?!" She cut in almost immediately.

"Dipper, it is late, and you're probably not in your right head, because we are NOT ever going to talk about summoning Bill. You need some rest, and in the morning we'll talk about some wards we can put up and have done by dinner, now how does that sound?"

He groaned. The rejection was too fast for him to even mention the handful of safeguards and fall backs he'll have if things turn sour. But while he still felt it was a matter to be discussed, she was right in saying that one in the morning wasn't the time to do so. Before a begrudging reply could be given, she laid back down and patted the space next to her, to which he filled eagerly as his aching chest and throbbing head begged for rest.

"Just sleep on it, Dip." Her voice offered softly, contrasting the chastising he received.

"Fine, fine." He groaned as his sore ribs protested his burrowing into Mabel's blankets. And with that, he managed to mummer a goodnight and fall asleep with no ticking, no nightmares, and no further disturbances for the rest of the night.

/

The next day they neglected to say a word to Stan about this. Mabel was determined to show off her adult responsibility of taking charge, whilst Dipper kept quiet more out of fear that his grunkle will interrogate him into not only admitting this wasn't the first night, but that he had a cursed object IN the room where he slept. Luckily, it was all too convenient the nightmares ranked up in intensity once they got to Gravity Falls (Bill's stronger influence here was all Dipper could blame), thus his sister never bothered inquiring if anything similar to this has happened before.

So that was why his sister sat diligently at the table with focus almost unnatural for her, studying wards in one of their many supernatural books whilst scribbling needed ingredients down with her purple glitter pen. On the other side sat Dipper, noting his own list from the second journal on Cipher's summoning ritual. Sleeping on it didn't change his mind on talking to the demon about this, yet it did allow him to realize he probably shouldn't bring it up around Mabel. Thus, when she sent him off later that day with a list of needed plants (and detailed descriptions) to find in the forest before lunch, Dipper brought along his own list with a few needed summoning items stashed in his satchel.

After throwing on his hat with a wince where it sat against his bruise, he waved out with Mabel throwing him a cheerful "Have fun!"

With one hand holding her book to her face and another stirring a serving of Mabel juice, not a notice went by to the already full bag he was supposed to stash his findings in. Although his steps were gentle in the shack to avoid the clanking of his supplies from giving away his plan, once outside he picked up the pace towards the nearest clearing lodged in the thick forest. Despite the last time he was in these woods was nearly a year ago, his confidence in his direction didn't falter to the familiar patterns of ferns or bushes. The clearing wasn't too far from the shack, but as with the weight of his satchel already hindering him and the slight worry of leaving his sibling in the dark about his plan, the trip felt longer than it was. After all, if he were to get hurt (for he wouldn't expect any less of a demon) than there will be no way for Mabel to know or rescue him. Nor Stan, or Soos, or anyone really. In fact, he was falling back on his two safeguards combined with the assumption Bill would be more willing to talk civil rather than go choke-happy like in his dreams.

After the slight density of trees opened up and informed Dipper he had reach the clearing, he took no time taking in the atmosphere and hurried to take out his summoning supplies. Lucky for him, his one-too-many candles didn't break during the journey, allowing his ring to look aesthetically correct, despite them being a mixed of both new and previously lit.

A tarp or sheet wouldn't have fit inside the satchel, so instead he took out two rolls of masking tape to make the ritual's sigil. It stuck to the ground poorly and he did his best to continuously tear and replace the sections of tape to bear as close resemblance to a circle as possible, but as long as it was present that quality shouldn't impact the magic itself.

After the struggle of aligning the tape properly onto the dirt ground, the next ordeal was lighting the candles. While the candles themselves were fairly compliant, Dipper couldn't quite keep them lit with the wind hushing out the newfound flames.

Yet as all tasks do come to an end; at one point all candles remained jointly lit, surprising the teen to scramble for the note he stashed with the spell on it.

In desperation to finish before the wind snatched his candle's light away, he hurried the words out so fast that the few silent seconds afterwards sunk a pit of dread down his throat. Oh god. He was really doing this. The ritual was complete, the wind was (now eerily) silent, and the candle flames were as still as death, ceasing their flickering as Dipper finished the last syllable of the ancient incantation.

Blinking, the lush greens and emeralds of the forests were turning dreary grey before his eyes, and the whole forest seemed to have paused without truly ever stopping. What once was azure skies tinged with smeary clouds evolved into a bleak runny charcoal, with an eye slit growing in its center. Then, there was a laugh. The same dark laugher that gives him shivers to this day just imagining it. The psychotic laughter echoed through what the wind once filled, blurring the laws of reality until bolded lines spawned from nowhere to connect into a triangle cozy around the growing eye. Then, with an abrupt cut in laughter so sudden it made Dipper jump and clutch a knife in his palm (his first and foremost safeguard, with the second being a simple water bottle to drench the candles and cut the ritual short need be) and winced slightly at the interruption. To further twist reality and defy what little logic stood, the connected lines spontaneously generated the one and only Bill Cipher into existence.

Dipper couldn't help but to drop his eyes down to the floor; his ribs and head were protesting in fear of further injury, aching dully for the teen to do something. But before he could, it was the dream demon to break the silence.

"Well now, aren't you the last person I expected a summoning from," the demon shifted lower to hover not much higher than the teen, and while Dipper really should be keeping his eyes on the demon floating before him, he kept them locked on the static grey floor. "Well I guess being back in town and all, you figured to reconnect with some old friends, hm?" The demon continued, without a note of the intimidating darkness his dreams have been haunting him with.

Something was off. Dipper's expression hasn't changed, save for him slightly biting his lower lip in distress of confronting the demon. Said demon thinking he's here to "reconnect" as if he wasn't the one who reached out in the first place. Yet in the flesh, in his usual triangle appearance, he didn't carry nearly any of the threat and pressure as he did in the dreams. In his dreams, it seemed as though Bill was going to choke the air out of him after squeezing every drop of fear through his eyes, until his cheeks are sleek with tears and soul was broken enough for him to devour. But now, he's rolling with his default demeanor, and it was already giving the teen shivers.

"You called me up for a reason, kid? I always took you for a straightforward kind of guy-"

"I want you to stop these games, Bill" Dipper cut in, bringing up his eyes to meet the demon whilst stifling the evident fear coursing through him.

"Games? If this summoning's a game, then you started it, Pine Tree," the demon retorted, looking a little less than displeased. "Besides, why are you looking like I left a dead dog at your door? If I recall, it was you who screwed me over last we met."

Dipper's eyebrows knitted, with confusion starting to take place where terror had resided. "T-The dreams? Don't act like that wasn't your act!"

Luckily, the demon seemed to drop a bit of the angry in favor of annoyance. "Dreams? I've been visiting plenty but none of yours, Pine Tree. Been too preoccupied with some demonic business," he argued, as if he was too good to haunt the teen's dreams.

"Does the business happen to involve waking people up to you choking them?" The teen still didn't believe what Bill was selling. But his accusation was met with chilling laughter.

"Pine Tree, my business is with a rival demon that's recently popped up, not with you. What makes you think I'm the only entity that can manipulate dreams?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, still sore enough to remind him of the assault, Dipper averted his glance. "B-but there was something that woke me up, and paralyzed me in real life..." He began, yet without any memory of those things even being in Bill's range of usual powers. He was met with another laugh, this one less intimidating and more amused.

"Let me guess, was there something on top of you and you couldn't quite breathe? Sounds like sleep paralysis, kid. Not a product of mines but I sure wish I came up that that ingenious nightmare!"

With the pitch of his voice, it almost seemed like he heard the best joke of the year at Dipper's expense, but the teen wasn't going to give up yet.

"I know what sleep paralysis is! I've read about it before... It just... Didn't cross my mind..." He defended, with an unchanging certainty. The demon only threw him a filler counter, "What reason would there be for it to be supernatural, Pine Tree? Last I checked your human bodies screws themselves over by causing sleep paralysis in the first place."

Although he hate to admit it, he was right. At certain points of the night your body paralyzes itself to make sure it doesn't act out its own dreams, but if it gets mistaken when you wake up, it'll keep you paralyzed with dream-like hallucinations seeming to sit on your chest and suffocate you.

The possibility made him shake his head; that couldn't be just it.

"Can't believe you called me up here just to whine about a perfectly non-supernatural dream. Pine Tree, you used to be so interesting-"

"There were bruises!" Dipper cut in at his realization, and rather than getting angered at being cut off for the second time, the demon seemed mildly surprised.

"Bruises?" He echoed, indicating his interest meant Dipper better keep talking.

"It pushed me back and sat on my ribs-" he began, but abruptly stopped himself when the demon gave a slight gesture to his shirt indicating he wanted proof. Swallowing a bit of his pride, he set down the knife by his bottle of water. He then discarded the fleece jacket that came up to cover the sides of his neck, and before he could reach to tug at the base of his t-shirt, a slight tsk of surprise came from the demon. Nervously, Dipper brought his eyes up, forgetting the slight bruising that decorated the base of his neck. Rather than meeting his gaze, Bill had his eyes locked on his neck, in a way that looked less than analytical. It certainly didn't give the teen anymore comfort as his weakening hands gave a slow tug at his shirt's hem, pulling it over his head and knocking the trademark hat he wore off.

At the slight gentle gasp the demon gave (sounding less surprised and more curious for the teen's liking) Dipper refrained from the little spark that urged him to fold his arms over his exposed chest, which would serve only to obscure the purple blotches ghosting the cage of his ribs from his front to his sides.

A flicker of irritation speckled the demon's eye, and before Dipper could even think it was directed at him, a shallow uncharacteristic voice mused, "I'm surprised another supernatural thought it could lay its hands on you."

The completely unexpected comment threw Dipper over the edge, as he grabbed his shirt and pressed it against his front in embarrassment, not even bothering to put it on. "What does that mean?" His voice had a tremor ghosting it, despite the teen not wanting to seem as clueless as he currently was. Who else- or what else- could honesty do something like this?

"It means if you were able to give me trouble, not a lot of monsters would want to start something with you, kid," the demon explain hesitantly, trying to pin a scapegoat. The two both knew when one clicked in his head, because Dipper could feel a knowing smile twinkle in his eye. It wasn't comforting one bit.

"Hey, Pine Tree, you said it hurts you in your dreams right? Not a lot of creatures got that power besides me, and I think I know what's been giving you a hard time." The demon cooed this revolution in sinister way that stifled away relief the answer could've given the stressed teen. Nevertheless, Dipper edged a bit back, clutching the shirt tighter to his chest as if it were to provide protection from the unsettling atmosphere Bill began radiating.

"What is it? Is it demonic?" Dipper inquired after Bill didn't continue.

There was a scoff. "Kid, demonic? You'd be dressed in more than a few bruises if it was even close to being a demon."

"Huh? Then what is it...?" Bill's tone was seriously worrying him; Dipper had no clue why he was beating around the bush so much.

"Pine Tree," an eerie atmosphere fell over the already frightening Mindscape, earning a fresh layer of chills creeping along the teen's flesh, "...since when did I give information away for free?"

All hope had fell, with Dipper's face growing pale and hands losing feeling, loosening the white-knuckled grip on his t-shirt and dropping it to the ground. It took all his willpower to squeeze his eyes shut and steady his breath. He was so stupid. Of course this was going to happen. He got so far, after avoiding Bill for all these years, and now he's out in the middle of nowhere summoning the king of manipulation.

A shaking hand swept along his hair, before reaching behind his skull to feel along the bruise, only serving to remind him why he ought to stay out of supernatural business.

"I-I think I should go..." He started out with a tremor rattling his body, but he immediately corrected it to cover up any weakness the demon could take a jab at, "After all, you'll just twist this deal into some mess I'll have to clean up, so how about you let me go back to the real world now and-"

"I don't want much, Pine Tree. You have my word," as if it meant anything, he held up a hand mockingly as if taking an oath. "At least hear my request; I'm sure it'll be way better than whatever your plan is. Just deal with getting roughed up in your sleep? Good luck fighting it when you don't even know what it is." He pestered on, playing on Dipper's affinity for logic. And it was working; the teen didn't exactly have a plan past this. After coyly crossing his arms together and avoiding eye contact, Dipper finally caved, "Fine, Bill, what do you possibly want?"

The dream demon beamed. "Remember that demonic business I mentioned, the one with the rival? He's a demon always trying to take both my things and my power, so awhile back I banished him. But banishment only lasts so long, especially for demons, because now he's back, and he knows I'm here in Gravity Falls," there's was a wide gesture to the forest around them, "so all I need is your help luring him out, so I can confront him and throw him back into banishment. Easy enough, eh Pine Tree?"

In lieu of a response, the teen worried at his bottom lip, unsure of the tempting deal. After leaving the demon hanging for a few moments, Bill sighed and decided to sweeten the deal.

"Look, on top of this information, I'll also help you with your little problem myself; it shouldn't be too hard. As for your side of the deal, you just help me get rid of an entity with power rivaling mine, which takes out one more demon from the ball game. Less evil on Earth, less evil in your dreams, and so forth. What do say?" Without even taking the teen's input, the demon shoved forth a fiery blue hand, slightly waving to encourage him to shake.

Dipper's eyes locked with his hand, but he didn't shake it just yet. Perhaps it actually might be worth it. After all, his family doesn't have to know - it could just be him, taking a powerful demon off this world without risking anyone but himself. He'll be helping himself. He'll be helping everyone.

Before any second thoughts could take control, Dipper threw out his hand and shook the demon's, whom began a cackle just as the deal was sealed.

"Wonderful, Pine Tree! I take back my comment on you not being interesting!" The demon was ecstatic.

"Bill, you got what you want from me, now tell me what the hell is haunting my sleep." He cut in sharply, already unhappy thinking about being bait to lure out a demon. Yet it didn't dampen Bill's mood in the slightest.

"Easy, it's a forest nymph. Or a nymphus, since you believed it to be me, it must've been male, correct?" Dipper gave an unsteady nod and he continued, "Yes, well with all these woods, naturally more than a few pooled here. Seven, in fact. Usually keep to themselves, lest you did something to disturb them."

"Disturb? The nightmares did actually start after Mabel and I went on a trip to a pretty isolated forest. But it wasn't even anywhere near Gravity Falls, plus how could a forest spirit even have jurisdiction over dreams?" If the teen just made a deal for information, then he's gonna get his money's worth. Perhaps enough to add a few new pages to his own journal, which was admittedly pretty thin.

"Come on kid, the first major forest you've ever been to was this one, and you respected it fair enough. But if you went around disrupting some other nymph's forest, all they'll do is go around and tell these ones your misdeeds." There was a slight pause when he noticed the completely muddled expression of Dipper's face. "Look they may not be all too powerful, but if you spend enough time in their forest, they'll seed some power into you. So even halfway across the globe, they can mess with you, although it's usually more powerful the closer you are to the nymphs."

That did make sense since the nightmare last night was significantly a level higher than all the ones before. Perhaps it was taking the pocket watch out that disturbed them, and just when Dipper was going to ask again about the dreams, the demon continued. "Funny why they have dream powers, actually. You know, I can make deals with more than just humans," he was trailing off, but Dipper's imagination filled in the rest. The local nymphs struck up a deal for Bill to teach them to manipulate dreams. It's understandable, and he couldn't exactly judge, since he's standing here fresh from a deal for info himself.

"S-so how do we exactly stop them? Since you gave them that power, can't you take it away?" The question was in all seriousness, yet the demon laughed. "Pine Tree, that would violate my contract with them... However, this won't-"

Another inquiry died on the teen's lips when the demon fabricated a hole in the Mindscape, a dark vortex that if Dipper didn't know any better, was akin to a black hole. Reaching his hand into the singularity, the dream demon hummed absentmindedly before exclaiming an "ah!"

When his hand pulled out, the black hole suddenly collapsed out of existence with a few flickers of azure flames. Resting between his fingers was a little wooden charm of a rustic leaf, of which was either very old or carved by a child. Just as Dipper leaned in, eyes squinting to identify anything special about the charm, it was abruptly toss to the off-guard teen.

"Here, kid. For all your anti-nymph needs." Adjusting the inch-sized trinket, he ran his eyes along the details until he decided that it was objectively satisfactory for Bill's end. Slowly, he dragged his eyes up, only to nearly jump back when Bill was inches from his face.

"Bill! What the hell?" He squeaked undignified.

"Your shirt's still off." The emotion behind his voice was neither amused nor annoyed. In fact, it wasn't quite a tone Dipper has heard from him, yet he still scrambled to throw on his shirt and fix his hat back on.

As if that last statement never came from the demon, Dipper eager shifted the topic. "W-what about my end? How exactly are we luring this demon out?"

"Hm? Oh I'll fill you in on your part tomorrow; tonight I have to set up some warding sigils around town if we have any hope of luring Lazarus into reality."

Dipper choked. "I'm bait to bring your demon rival into reality?! How are you supposed to banish him when he's walking the Earth?"

"Kid, use your head. I'll be in reality too, he isn't going to endanger your little town-"

"Wait, you're going to be in reality too? But- but how?" Panic was swelling in his throat. What had he just agreed to?

"Easy, Pine Tree. I'll have a body."

/

That night he woke in cold sweats, heaving in air into his staved lungs. Choking on the sweet, musky night air that taste of a mixture of dread and salvation, he tossed off the damp blanket and slouched over the edge to fall off his bed, landing on his abused chest and letting out a whine. He was in so much pain. Why didn't the charm work?

One hand held against his second rib, feeling the warmth of blood from beneath the thin skin of his shirt while the other hand reached on top of his nightstand, grasping at the charm to confirm it was there. Oh god. Why wasn't it working.

He sobbed, chest wet with blood and cheeks wet with tears. Bill was wrong. The charm did nothing, and now he'll never be able to sleep again. Not with a goddamn monster trying to choke him.

Struggling to his feet, he evened his breathing, despite his body still wrecked with shivers and ribs smarting with splintered flesh, gashed and exposed to the world.

Leaning on the nightstand, he cleared his head. He was awake now. No harm will come to him while he's awake. He can bandage himself up, clean up the bed, and carry on away from this because the attack was over.

Just as the tears stop falling and his breathing was no longer labored, he sighed in relief. He was going to be okay.

That was, until, he heard ticking start up from inside his nightstand.