My third grade science teacher was the first person I hurt. I'd stayed after school cause mom was at work and couldn't leave yet. Normally dad would pick me up but no one could get a hold of him. So I was stuck at the school and my teacher wouldn't let me leave the classroom.
I remember feeling suffocated when he stood too close to me and his hands were cold against my skin. There were police cars and flashing lights when my mom showed up. All the way home, she told me that my teacher would be punished for what he'd done. I just wanted him to die.
The report says it was a sudden heart attack on the way to the station. But I know it was me.
It happened again in fifth grade. A bully pushed me down the stairs and kicked me when I tried to stand. I didn't mean to think it but I wanted him to burn for what he did. I envisioned him covered in flames and screaming. It satisfied my need for revenge for the school day.
His whole family died in a fire that night. Mom tried to keep me from seeing it but it was all over the news. No one suspected me. Only I had to live with the knowledge that I was dangerous.
The summer after the fire, a pair of twins came into town. I thought they were tourists but apparently, their uncle lived in the town. They pointed out his shop when we first met and I knew who they were. The Pines twins. The grumpy old man that ran the only shop in town where you could buy a soda and a candy bar with your allowance money was their uncle. I guess I was expecting them to be more like him but they weren't.
The girl, Mabel, was like a sugar rush you didn't want to come down from. Energetic and bouncy, she could make you forget all about your scraped knee and ruined bike with just a look into her kind eyes. She hugged tightly and loved you just as hard.
The boy only ever gave me a nickname to call him. Dipper. He said it was for the birthmark on his forehead of the little dipper which he showed me numerous times. I remember being in awe the first time I saw it and blinking because I didn't really believe that someone could have a line of freckles so perfect like that.
While his sister was full of energy, he was quieter. More introverted. He hung out with us because if he was around the shop, he'd get stuck working. So wherever we went, he tagged along. The three of us became friends and that summer, no one died.
My parents were worried about me when the Pines left town with promises to write. I still didn't have many friends and they were the closest things I had. Every day, I raced home to check for letters. There was always one a week.
Over time, I learned whose handwriting was whose. While they were similar, Mabel had a tendency to write all over the page when she was excited, completely ignoring the lines on the pages. Dipper's portion of the letters were always neat and on the lines, often skipping over events his sister chose to talk about in favor of asking me how I was.
After a while, my parents contacted the Pines family and wanted to know about setting up a get-together in the following summer. Dozens of phone calls and emails later, a date was chosen. The weekend after the fourth of July had been cleared and I would soon get to hang out with the twins again.
Other than a few birds and the neighbors horrid cat, no one died during the school year.
I barely slept through June and after the fourth, you could taste my anticipation in the air. I worked night and day in preparation for when they were supposed to get here. Not even my parents got to see the project I was creating. It had to be a complete surprise.
My excitement bubbled over into the weekend and when they were finally here, I spent the first few minutes hugging and talking so fast, they couldn't understand me. Mabel matched my talking speed but Dipper hung back, waiting for an opening.
I hugged him just as hard and slung my arms around both of them, eagerly tugging them toward my room to show them what I'd been working on. They'd seen my room plenty of times before and it looked exactly as it did a year ago. Mabel immediately plopped down onto my bed but Dipper stayed by the door.
I presented them both with the photo album filled with pictures of the three of us from last year. We visited every tourist attraction in the town to kind of make fun of it a little. I glued in souvenirs from every place we went to. There were pictures of the times we went fishing interspersed with the three of us wearing popsicle grins.
"Do you like it?" I questioned, looking between the two of them. Mabel's immediate cheer of "yeah!" made me grin and Dipper joined her, softly acknowledging how much time it must've taken me. His gaze stayed on mine throughout the dinner his family had at my place that night.
The morning they were supposed to leave, the twins begged to stay with their uncle until the end of July and their wish was granted. Together, we added eight new pages to the book and I sent it off with them when they left.
That year, the letters doubled. The twins chose to write individually this time and Dipper's always came faster than Mabel's. They were starting seventh grade like me and while Mabel was gaining popularity and friends, Dipper and I weren't. Our letters were things we hid from our parents and snuck into the mailbox late at night so the mailman could pick it up before our parents noticed. We were close. And while I was still friends with Mabel, Dipper was the one I would call on the phone if I wanted to talk. We were friends. But maybe we could be more.
I'd never been interested in anyone before but I didn't know if the way I felt about Dipper meant we were just really good friends or if this was some entirely new territory. Some sort of bubbly feeling fluttered alive inside of me every time I received a letter in his handwriting but I didn't know what it meant.
Still, even with Dipper available to talk to whenever I wanted, my emotions got the better of me that year. Aside from the usual birds and stray dogs that chased me home, three people died.
The first, a librarian. She caught me folding down a page in a book I had borrowed and slapped the back of my hand three times before she let me go with a warning about calling my parents next time. She slipped on a piece of paper two days later and hit her head.
The second was one of the town drunks. He almost ran my mom off the road and I knew he had to go. He didn't need to cause any more accidents. Obituary said he seemingly ran straight off the road and into a ravine. Good riddance.
A mechanic was the third. He's the anomaly of that year. I didn't mean to hurt him. He was a good person. He'd fixed my dad's car earlier that day and even showed me how some of the wrenches worked. Said I could have a job with him when I was older.
He was closing up shop when a car fell from a lift he'd put it on earlier that day. Doctor said he was crushed instantly but I know it had to have hurt. I know he laid there for at least a minute, probably wondering what he'd done to deserve this. Nothing. The only thing he ever did was live in the same town as a psychic killer.
I stopped responding to Dipper's letters as often. Weeks would go by and I'd eventually give in, staying up in the late hours of the night to finish writing back. His responses were just as hesitant as ever and a small seed of guilt would work its way through me every time I got a letter from him. It wasn't that I didn't want to write back. I was just afraid. I didn't mean to kill the mechanic… what if I accidentally killed Dipper? Or even hurt him? I didn't want to harm either one of the Pines twins. They were still my only friends.
The summer after seventh grade, we met up again. Their parents traveled down at the beginning of June and stayed a week with my family. Like last year, the twins were allowed to stay with their uncle.
On the fourth of July, I watched fireworks with the twins on either side of me, the colors exploding across the sky as I inched my hand closer to Dipper's. Our fingers intertwined and though my hand shook, his thumb running across the back of it calmed me down. I didn't want to hurt him but I wanted his warmth. His hand in mine kept me in the moment, away from fears of hurting either one of them.
In eighth grade, the twins were gifted a computer to share and soon after, I was given one of my own. Our letters quickly morphed into emails and Dipper's were always the longest. Mabel would sometimes send multiple ones but hers, even combined, never equaled the length of her brother's.
Dipper and I developed a habit of sharing our days with each other over the lines of an email and I quickly became addicted to knowing everything that went on in his day. When either of us had a bad day, we knew talking to each other made it easier.
Even more than our letters, I cherished our emails. On some nights, I'd crawl out of my bed to re-read the encouraging words he'd written me, reminding me that maybe I wasn't so dangerous and maybe, just maybe, I could trust myself with him.
The summer before eighth grade, the Pines returned to Gravity Falls and I was more excited to see them than ever. Not even birds died during the year and I guess it's cause I had Dipper to talk to constantly. I told him on several occasions that I thought maybe I didn't have a place in this world and he'd countered me every time with, "Where else would you fit?". I never had the heart to tell him 'maybe dead' so I didn't.
But when they were here, it was like no time had passed between any of us. We hung out at their uncle's tourist shop and slept over at each other's places more times than I could count. We lived on pizza and caffeine that year and by the time their last two weeks in Gravity Falls approached, I figured that everything would stay the same.
I should have known better.
Mabel slipped during a game of flag football and sprained her ankle. Her uncle drove her home early but Dipper was allowed to stay with me and my parents. We spent the better part of a week staying up late talking about nothing and spilling secrets to each other.
He confessed he was nervous about the school year coming up because everyone he knew back home had already kissed a girl and he wasn't interested at all. He asked me what was wrong with him and I guess my immediate response of 'nothing' made him curious.
Somehow, it came out that I hadn't kissed anyone either and it'd been years since I'd even looked at girls. But with the constant threat of someone dying, I hadn't really had time to dissect my feelings on whether I liked girls or whether I liked boys.
Dipper asked me for a favor and I agreed instantly. Neither one of us wanted to start high school without our first kiss so we decided to give it to each other.
His lips were soft against mine and though my hands trembled, I placed them on the sides of his face the way I'd seen in movies. He angled his head to the side and our lips were molded together for longer than it took to give each other a first kiss.
For the rest of his time in Gravity Falls, we'd fall asleep beside each other, holding hands and occasionally stealing another kiss. I didn't want his time here to end but I kind of accepted that we'd figure everything out as we went along.
The first few emails we exchanged afterwards were kind of awkward but we somehow figured out a way to talk to each other and it worked. We were both looking forward to the summer after ninth grade. We vowed not to give anyone else our kisses, saving those for each other to explore.
I didn't let myself worry that things weren't gonna work out or that maybe we'd lose interest in each other. I just responded to his every email and looked forward to everything we said to each other. It was nice having someone to talk to about anything.
For some reason, the first semester of ninth grade, I fooled myself into believing that nothing would happen. That I could learn to control the part of me that was able to end lives. I didn't want to hurt anyone and especially not Dipper. I could handle this.
I didn't mean to do it. I never meant to hurt anybody. All I can remember from ninth grade is blood and pain and hospital visits that lasted too long. I remember the sound of beeping machines and crying families and my own vomit splashing onto the rain soaked parking lot outside the hospital.
I was almost finished with my last semester and aside from an old guy who passed away due to natural causes, there were no deaths in Gravity Falls. I'd been getting better at handling my emotions. At least… I thought I had.
My cousin Wendy came to visit over spring break and as soon as she touched me, she passed out. I can remember the sound of my parents talking quietly to each other after the paramedics arrived and I don't think I'll ever forget the sinking feeling in my gut as the sheet was pulled over Wendy's face. She was dead. Because of me. I killed her.
I was pulled from school because I couldn't keep up in my studies. I barely slept most nights and what little sleep I did manage to get was filled with nightmares and images of either of the Pines dying by my hand. Just because they cared enough to hang around me.
My parents wanted to surprise me with a visit from the Pines family but as soon as I saw their faces, I bolted back up to my room and locked the door, determined to keep them safe. I braced my desk chair under the knob when my mom tried to get inside and demanded that she go away. She obliged but for the next week, she tried to get me out of my room. I refused. And eventually, the Pines family went home.
I stained my pillow with tears the day I saw their car pull away from my house, knowing that they wouldn't come back next year. At least if they stayed away from Gravity Falls, they'd be away from me. And being away from me was the best place for anyone to be.
Mom and dad hired a tutor for me in the tenth grade and I began learning better than I had in the classroom. I was able to focus more and the one-on-one teaching really helped me grasp the subjects. I aced through algebra and biology. And while a smile on my face was enough to fool my parents, I still couldn't fool myself.
Days were spent avoiding my computer where I knew emails were waiting from Dipper. I knew both of the Pines were worried about me but I couldn't bring myself to respond. They were far better off staying away from Gravity Falls. Away from me.
Still, Dipper was persistent. He called every week for the first semester and a dozen or so times over winter break. If I was home alone, I let the machine record his message and deleted it immediately after. Both of my parents tried to get me to take his call at least once but I refused. There were times I heard them coming and I'd sneak out of my bedroom window, somehow making it on to the ground in one piece.
Once school set in during January, the calls became less frequent along with my tutoring. I was smarter than the average kid and absorbed the information much faster. Which left endless days of me on my own. Boredom scratched at my mind on those days and even though I ached to call or even write Dipper back, I didn't let myself. It was hard enough cutting off contact the first time. I didn't think I'd have the strength to do it again.
Especially remembering the way his lips felt against mine. The hesitant touches we placed on each other. I wanted to experience it all over again but the most I was allowed were memories. I couldn't drag Dipper down with me. I couldn't risk hurting him.
Rather than stare at the phone, wishing to have the strength to dial his number, I'd leave my house. I'd wander the streets for hours, stealing whatever I could get my hands on. I stuck to candy in the beginning but gradually, I got bolder. I'd take whatever I wanted and somehow, I always managed to slip past the camera's and the cashier's.
By now, rumors about me had surfaced through the town. The tale of Wendy Corduroy dying just from giving me a hug spun throughout Gravity Falls and everyone now knew that I was dangerous. The doctor's ruled it a spontaneous heart attack but I knew the truth. Neither of my parents could accept it but I had long ago. Maybe that's why I was able to steal things so easily. Maybe no one wanted to stop me and find out what happened.
At the end of eleventh grade, the calls and emails stopped altogether. I thought I'd be glad that Dipper's constant attempt to communicate with me would push this burden off my chest but it didn't. I cried myself to sleep for eight days and my dad commented multiple times about the bags under my eyes. I could tell from both of their expressions that they were worried about me. I faked my way through every conversation but by the end of each one, I knew they didn't believe me anymore.
So, I stayed out longer. I spent that summer with a group of fellow soon-to-be-seniors, drinking and smoking the nights away. I loved the feeling of floating above the clouds and whatever Robbie Valentino passed my way, I'd usually take gratefully. We'd toast each other. The dying summer. The senior year that was gonna rock. The bitchin' parties and wild nights we had yet to experience.
Robbie didn't make it a month into his senior year before he died. Cops found him face first in the sand, so strung out on marijuana, his eyes were rolled back into his head. Maybe I wasn't to blame for that one. I shoulder the blame either way. He knew me and then he died. However distantly, I was still related to that death.
Winter break, senior year.
I was coming home from a late night, drunk on something stronger than alcohol, and stumbling up the stairs to my front door. Shadows played in the corners of my eyes and I didn't think anything of it. I was used to darkness and its icy embrace. But these shadows weren't just shadows. And they moved toward me. Took the keys from my shaking hands.
When I looked, it took me a few minutes to place the boy standing in front of me. His birthmark had stretched out across his forehead, making it almost impossible to tell that it was the little dipper. Still, I squinted in the dying light and traced it with my index finger.
I'd hallucinated before on whatever Robbie gave me but this felt so real. And when his lips touched mine, god, I wanted it to be real. His touch was warm and I was cold and I didn't want him to disappear like every other one of my hallucinations.
My parents were asleep when I wandered inside my house, dragging my hallucination with me. We climbed into my bed together and I fell asleep instantly, the first restful night in a long time. Whatever I had at the party was amazing because I didn't feel anything.
Until the morning hit. And I was made aware that my hallucination wasn't such a hallucination.
Dipper was lying next to me, his body curled around mine, and breathing softly. He was asleep and I couldn't breathe trying to come up with a way out of this. I'd let him in my bed last night and I'd kissed him multiple times. He was still alive but for how long? How much of his life did he have left before he dropped dead because he was too close to me?
I tried to move as gently as possible, wriggling out of his embrace and leaving my bedroom as fast as I could. My feet carried me down the stairs and one of my parents asked if I was okay. I don't think I responded. If I did, it was probably a lie. Because I wasn't. Not as long as Dipper was here, in this town. So close to me.
I spent the day hiding out but somehow, he still found me. I was coming home late again, but this time my head was clear. I could hear him talking and I knew the questions he was asking were never going to stop until he heard the truth. Until he knew how dangerous I was.
"You've heard the rumors," I'd started, knowing as the tears stung my eyes, that he probably still wouldn't want to believe it. "My cousin died because of me. A-And she's not the only one, Dipper."
I'd tried to move past him but he grabbed my arm. And I let him kiss me. I let the feeling of his lips against mine make me forget for just a few seconds. But the seconds were fleeting and I pushed him away again, climbing the stairs swiftly.
The keys jangled together in my trembling hands and Dipper climbed up beside me, putting his hand on the knob. He tried to get me to talk and I pushed him away. Physically, emotionally, whatever it took. I don't remember what I told him, it's all a blur. I know I made it clear that I was dangerous. That I'd killed people before and that if he didn't stop, he'd be next.
He let me go inside my house and I knew it was over. I cried myself to sleep on the kitchen floor and picked myself off of it in the morning before either one of my parents found me. I don't know if they ever saw Dipper but he was never brought up. Even my parents knew he was a topic of conversation never to be broached.
Summer's dying again but this time, it's after my senior year. No one's died and I've managed to keep to myself. My parents still try to get me to talk about the way that I feel or why I hide out, or why I've stopped talking to the Pines twins but they get the same answers every time. I don't want to talk. I like being alone. People grow apart. They're all excuses but they work like a fucking charm each time.
I've been working meaningless jobs for the past few months, saving up each and every dime I earn, with no plans for any of it. Hell, maybe I could intern at a funeral home. Considering I spend so much of my time surrounded by death anyway.
I take another drag off my cigarette before I toss it over the pier, listening for the tiny splash it always makes. It's just past midnight and while it's still August, the nights are already cooling off, giving way to the autumn weather that's soon to arrive.
Night's like this are getting more and more common in sleepy Gravity Falls. I'm the last one awake and the first one up in the morning. I spend as little time in my house as possible, only returning when I have to because my parents will put up a missing person's report. Wouldn't that be something? The psycho-killer of the town disappears forever. I can just see the headlines now.
The breeze drifts across my face as I let my eyes drop closed, leaning my arms on the railing and thinking the same thoughts I do every time I'm standing on this pier. I could fall over. Just lose my balance and fall. Into the swirling black water and never resurface. I should have taken myself out years ago. I've been hurting people and I've been miserable this entire time. I don't know what stops me but something always stops me.
"Fuck," I mumble, squeezing my eyes further closed. It'd be so much easier if this railing were to give way and I'd tumble endlessly into the darkness. I'd welcome death with open arms if it invited me in but I've never been able to seek it out first. I've sent so many people into death's embrace, I'm terrified of what it'll look like for me. Will they all be waiting for me at the end of my life? I can't imagine that they'd all just smile and welcome me in.
Shuffling footsteps sound on the pier behind me and I snap my eyes open, glancing around me. A guy with brown curls swept across his forehead is walking along the pier and looks toward me when I move. He nods at the water and wanders a little closer to me. "This place was always beautiful to me. All the tourist traps were never that interesting. Places like this are what I like. They draw me further into this town."
This stranger leans his arms on the railing, standing closer to me than I'd like him to be. I haven't killed anyone in so long, I'd hate for that to end tonight. Just cause some guy is being friendly and I don't put a stop to it. I may seem like a dick but at least he'll return home tonight.
"You see one body of water, you've seen them all," I say, moving away from the railing.
I don't know what kind of sick death wish this guy has but he grabs me by the sleeve of my faded sweatshirt, keeping me in place as he gives me a soft smile. I glance down at the contact before flicking my gaze up to his, raising an eyebrow. "Do you need something?" Like a less than friendly warning?
This guy holds my gaze for a second or two before he tilts his head to one side, a lop-sided sort of smile easing its way onto his face. "Your hair's lighter again. Like it was when we were kids."
I'm frowning, and trying to figure out what the hell he's going on about, when it hits me. I know my eyes widen because he raises an eyebrow. I all but rip my sleeve out of his grasp, staggering back several paces. I can't believe him. He's here. He's standing in front of me and he's really here. After I pushed him away and told him to go, he's back.
"D-D-Dipper," I stammer out, taking another step backward. I want to turn and run into the night, leave this town with no warning, but I don't. I'm frozen, staring at the boy turned man who I kissed in my bedroom in the tail end of a sweltering summer. The same boy I held hands with under a blanket during horror movies because neither of us would admit to Mabel that we were afraid. The same boy I pushed away six months ago and demanded he stay away from me.
He takes a small step toward me and I don't stop him. I can't stop him. His eyes are still that same brown color I never meant to fall in love with but I guess I have. Because my chest is aching just looking into his eyes and I force myself to tear my gaze away. I can't do this.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, crossing my arms as I put as much bite in my tone as I can manage. It's weak, because it's him, but at least it's still there.
Dipper smiles softly, taking another step toward me. "You stopped responding to my emails. And you never called me back," he says, like that explains why he came all this way. Like I'm a good enough excuse to travel the distance between us.
I ball my hands into fists but they shake against my chest. "I thought you could take a hint." I don't let myself look up at him, too afraid of the expression he might have, and instead, I keep my gaze focused down. "I-I thought I made it clear when you came to visit last time."
His hand touches my shoulder and I instinctively look up at the movement, practically jerking backward as I stumble out of his reach, my head spinning. "N-No!" He touched me. He touched me and now he's gonna die. It's my fault. It'll all be my fault again. Not him. Please, not him.
Dipper exhales, glancing away from me, out toward the water. At the waves softly lapping against the beams of the pier we're standing on. His gaze is turned away from me for so long, I consider leaving. He has no business being back here. Being around me.
"Bill, I'm here because I don't care." He turns back toward me, shrugging one shoulder with a half-smile. "I know you believe what everyone says about you but I don't. And I don't care what they say."
I know my face is pale and my breath is sticking in my throat. He… doesn't care? People are dead because of me and he doesn't care?
"Y-You know they're not just rumors," I say softly, my gaze dropping to the pier again as my stomach churns. He doesn't care that I'm dangerous. Doesn't care that I could kill him just by touching him. I'll have to push him away again. And feel that agony just like last time.
Dipper steps closer to me and I can breathe in his scent. Every time he was here, he smelled like summertime. Like heat and popsicles and freshly mowed grass. But now… now his scent is something different. It still smells like all those things but it reminds me of hope. Of warmth, and light, and a time when I didn't have to hide away from everyone because I was terrified of killing them all. His hands on either side of my face are something I've never been able to stop.
He turns my face upward and our lips meet. I don't want to pull away even though I know I should. I don't have the strength and he must sense that. Because his tongue pushes against my lips and I let him in.
This is different than the few kisses we shared in my bedroom when we were thirteen. This is stronger and less hesitant. Like we've done this a thousand times before. God, I wish that we had. I wish I'd never pushed him away and I wish I didn't have to push him away now.
But his arms wrap around my waist and I can't stop it. My knees buckle but he catches me. Keeps me from falling. Like maybe all along, he was the reason the deaths slowed down. Like maybe he's my anchor and this entire time he's been away, I've been slowly drowning. The only thing I know is that now I can breathe again and I don't ever want to stop.
We leave the pier and walk the town together, into the early morning hours, and I'm finally able to leave his arms. His touch is inviting and I let myself stay in it too long. He could die because of me. I need to be stronger than this.
"I've really missed you," I start, keeping my gaze downcast as I speak. I can't look him as I break away again. It's already hurting like I'm missing half of myself and I guess as long as he's gone, I always will be. "But we can't do this. I-I know you remember what I told you six months ago. And y-"
"I still don't care," Dipper interrupts me. His hand touches the side of my face and I turn away from him, keeping distance between us. "Bill, why are you doing this? You really think you're responsible for those people's deaths? People die all the time, why are you suddenly at fault?"
He doesn't get it. He probably didn't back then and I don't know if he will. Not unless I paint it crystal clear to him.
"I-I was in the third grade the first time it happened," I whisper, not looking up at him. "My science teacher was a little… too friendly after school and I wanted him to die. Th-That night, he did." I let out a breath, afraid that anyone can hear me. The town's still asleep for the most part but anyone could be out for a morning run. People could hear me and then what would I do?
"So?"
I let out a pent up breath, flicking my gaze up to his. "The next person that died was a kid. All he did was push me down the stairs and I wanted him to pay for it. I wanted him to burn, Dipper," I snap, my hands balling into fists. "I wanted him dead and he died. His entire family burned to death in a house fire. Do you understand now?"
Dipper raises an eyebrow. "So, you're basing this off a few coincidences?"
My hands are shaking as I turn away from him again. "You don't get it." You never will. Does he really want to believe the best of me? Or can he really not understand? My parents don't want to accept it and maybe it's because they believe the best of me too. "I-I can't hurt you, either. M-My cousin died just from touching me and you… I can't let anything happen to you, Dipper."
"What if it doesn't?" he asks, his hands sliding around my waist. I lean my back against his chest and breathe out shakily. His cheek rests on the top of my head and I can feel his chest rumble as he speaks. "What if you and I live a normal life together and I don't die? Do you want to risk missing out on that?"
I exhale, squeezing my eyes closed in an effort to stay calm. "But what if it does?" I whisper, wishing my voice was stronger. I sound weak like this. Like maybe he could convince me to see it his way. And maybe he can.
Dipper turns me toward him, pulling my head to his. Our foreheads rest against one another's and he smiles softly, staring into my eyes as he speaks. "What if they didn't die because of you? What if this is all coincidence and you're not the one at fault?"
"What if I am?" I whisper again, closing my eyes. He makes a soft noise of disagreement and I shake my head, wanting the strength to pull away but not having it. His touch is still warm, still anchoring. And I'm not ready to leave this stability yet.
He runs his fingers through my hair gently, almost chasing away all of my worries. But I'm dangerous. I always have been. "What if you're not the killer? What if you're just the messenger?"
I blink, pulling away to look at Dipper. He gives me a half-smile, leaning his head to one side. "Y'know, like one of those messengers of death or something? What makes you so sure that you're the one that killed them?"
"B-Because I am," I say. There's no way I'm anything other than a monster. A dangerous, killing, monster. I've killed everyone that ever had a problem with me and-
"You haven't hurt me. Or Mabel," Dipper says softly, leaning forward to place kisses on my forehead. "I've held your hand and kissed you and laid next to you and… I haven't died, Bill. I'm still here."
My eyes well up with tears and I can't stop them from spilling over. He notices them and kisses down my cheeks, chasing them away. "You're not a monster, Bill. You're just somebody that's seen a lot of death."
I push away from him then, tears spilling down my face as emotions bubble up from where I've buried them. "I killed them! Innocent people, Dipper! They're dead because of me."
Dipper shrugs, sliding his hands into his pockets. "I don't buy it."
He doesn't… I grit my teeth, dropping my gaze to the ground, knowing that everyone will be awake soon. And when they are, Dipper needs to be gone. This kind of talk isn't what the townspeople need to hear. No one needs to think I'm not dangerous when I clearly am.
"Kill me," he says softly and when my gaze snaps up to him, his look is sincere. He steps closer to me, sliding his hands from his pockets to take mine. "If you're so sure that you're the one at fault, then kill me."
"I don't want to," I spit.
Dipper exhales, squeezing my hands in his. "I don't want you to, either. But you'll never believe me unless you try. So try, Bill. Try to kill me and you'll see that nothing's going to happen."
"Th-This is s-stupid," I whisper, my eyes falling closed. His forehead leans against mine and I don't want to do this. I know I'm capable of killing people. I know it's there. This ability has been with me since I was a child, I've never been able to control it. I can't do this.
"Try, Bill."
My breath sticks in my throat as I squeeze his hands back before plunging through it. I picture him dead. His blood surrounds his frame and he's gasping for breath. He's covered in glass. He's wrapped around a telephone pole. He's drowning. He's shot. He's lying in the gutter. He's dying in every situation my mind can come up with and I know it's true. Before his hands leave mine, I know it's true. Before the warmth of his forehead leaves mine, I know I'm capable of this. I've killed the only boy I ever loved. The only one who was willing to believe I wasn't a monster. I wish he hadn't been wrong.
Flowers are strung overhead and my suit is uncomfortable as I slouch back in one of the plastic chairs set up on the lawn outside the church. I don't know why we have to do this thing outside but it was insistent. Plus, the 'weather is so nice'!
I sink down further in my seat just as Mabel passes by, flicking me on the arm as she does. "Come ooooon, Bill. Sit up and try to make an effort like you're not bored out of your mind."
She rolls her eyes when I respond by sticking out my tongue. I am bored though. If it were up to me, I wouldn't be doing this. I'd be back home, curled up with the latest video game. Or maybe sleeping. Yeah, that seems more likely.
"Oh whatever, I'll leave you to your pouting." Mabel leans over to plant a kiss on the top of my head before she's bouncing over to the happy couple. I only watch her for a minute or two because movement next to me pulls me back into the moment.
I turn toward Dipper, biting back a smile as he settles next to me. "You took forever," I grumble, sinking down into the chair as he laughs.
"Are you seriously pouting, Bill?" Dipper asks with another laugh, slinging his arm around me. I quickly snuggle into his inviting embrace, planting a kiss to the underside of his jaw.
"Yes," I respond, nuzzling his neck.
It's been two years since we both graduated high school and since he asked me to kill him. He says it's proof that none of the deaths were my fault because he's alive but I'm pretty sure it only proves I can't kill him. I pictured him in every scenario and he never died. His hands left mine to cup my face and he kissed me to tell me to stop. To tell me that I wasn't the bringer of death I thought I was. Maybe I'm not, I don't know.
"What if I promise to give you all of my attention when the wedding's over with?" he asks, smiling when I look up at him. I give him a shrug, knowing full well that if I wasn't so stubborn, I'd be grinning too.
"It's a good start," I respond, drawing another laugh from him. I lean back in his arms and turn my gaze toward the front of this whole thing. Their uncle finally decided to tie the knot for the second time and though he's crotchety and hard to take in large doses, I'm glad he's happy. I'm glad he's still alive and I'm glad that maybe he wouldn't be because of me.
"What are you thinking about?" Dipper asks, pressing his lips to my forehead. I close my eyes to the touch, shaking my head when he pulls away. I'm not thinking about anything. I'm just remembering. There was a time I wouldn't be next to him like this and I wouldn't have been able to kiss him like I do.
We've just finished our second year at college and no one's died. I haven't been back in Gravity Falls except during the summers and even then, deaths have happened naturally. People I've never met have passed away and people that I really cared for have too. Whether I'm there or not. Maybe I'm not the killer I always thought I was. Maybe I'm just a boy, in the arms of another boy, reminiscing on our summers together.
Dipper's eyebrows raise when I turn toward him again and pull him into a kiss.
Maybe I'm not a killer. Maybe my whole life has been a series of coincidences. It's selfish but I'm just glad that Dipper's never been one of my coincidences. As long as he's still living and breathing… I guess it doesn't hurt to not see myself as such a monster. Maybe that sleepy town goes on without me and maybe it thrives in my absence. Maybe the birds that died were because of the water and not because of me.
Or maybe it was me and one day, Dipper's time will be up. Maybe he'll die and I'll be left alone again. Maybe if he goes, it won't be because of me. And maybe it will be. I don't know anymore and neither does he. We're just two college kids now and it's easier to pretend that's true than I thought it would be.
"Bill, stop thinking," Dipper mumbles against my lips and I do. Faster than I've ever done anything in my life, I stop thinking. I just let his hands caress my face and remind me that maybe I don't have to dwell on things that happened. That maybe I can keep my gaze away from the past because I'm not headed that way. I'm headed for a future with the boy from my childhood summers.