I finished this chapter a bit early... so fuck this shit I'm posting it now ;-; I read over the last chapter and found a few typos that I'm probably not going to fix loooolllsss. #whenuralazyass . In any case, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter~ (btw I edited it UR WELCOME)
Please favorite, follow and review ^^ btw thanks to RainbowRaptorKitty1234 for reviewing and the rest of you for following and favoriting ;w; i'm glad to know that I'm doing something right for once~
Chapter Two
"No, no, NO!"
A yellow sheet of scrap paper was thrown a pitiful distance away. Judging by the short foot it traveled, one could only assume that Dipper was the offender of processed trees. "UGH!" The man growled furiously. Four days. Four days turned up nothing. This ridiculous code that Dipper found lying upon his bed, among other things, was practically unsolvable! Several books lay scattered around the floor of his apartment floor, except these were solely on the solving of codes and contained number-word combinations. With the amount of time Dipper had spent searching through these books, it was very possible that he'd gone through every option, which was a feat that could only be accomplished by endless hours of research. Ninety-six hours of endless work, and not a drop of sleep; Dipper was beginning to wonder if he could sustain this. It's not as if he were sleeping much already before this, but he'd only grown used to being deprived of about two-thirds of his night. Only very few times did Dipper stay up for the entire night without a single nap during the day. Now that he was living off of zero seconds of sleep, it was much more overwhelming.
Two more days till he had to meet with this mysterious person, and yet he was no closer to reaching the conclusion. Why'd they have to turn everything into such a convoluted code?! It infuriated Dipper to no end. He couldn't do this. With all the built in stress and guilt and burden he'd been cursed with... the boy considered it a miracle it'd taken him this long to even consider quitting. A heavy sigh erupted from his lips. It'd do him no good to dig himself further into a hole of misery. Stan's life is on the line. That's right.
After a few moments of reassuring himself of this, Dipper returned to his nearly empty notebook. He'd surprisingly found time to go grab groceries. In fact, that was the first thing he'd done after he began to plan the rest of his week. His fridge was practically overflowing at the moment with this week's pre-made meals. All of them were microwave, and nearly all of them were ramen noodles. Not the healthiest choice, but it was quick, cheap, and his money earned at the Shack could buy him it. The Shack. At least he didn't have to be there for another-
Well. His researching session was cut short by the painfully loud alarm by his bed; something previously meant to wake him up. Now it only served as an annoying reminder of where he'd have to be in the next thirty minutes. Dipper sighed heavily as he observed what was beyond the counter. Children and others bounded around the shop noisily. Normally it wasn't something Dipper would mind, but after this entire ordeal began, Dipper found himself becoming increasingly sensitive to sound. Every time one of the customers would shout or say just about anything, a splitting headache would make his temple ring in pain. He quickly decided that it had something to do with him living off a sickening amount of sodium and the constant silence he surrounded himself with after work. At least no one was bothering him personally.
"Hey moron!" His tired eyes rose up at the sound of someone calling out to him. A frown found its way onto his lips. Of course. It must be one of the little boys that belonged to a touristy-looking family near the back of the shop. The kid looked like an absolute brat, and the rising irritation in Dipper only served to make the younger seem even more annoying. "What is it?" He practically hissed. The little boy smirked something horrible and lifted his hand, a small, wooden rubber band gun resting in his grip. Oh. My. Fucking. God-
Every single cowboy in the West had no beef on this kid. Bulls eye. Dead in between his eyes balls. A stinging pain shot through Dipper's temple, causing him to flick his head back upon impact.
Any other day Dipper would've simply let the child walk away. He may grumble a few curses, but that would be the end of it. It wasn't in his nature to bully children just because they were being rowdy punks; no matter how annoying it may have been. However, today was completely different. Dipper was tired, he had an awful headache, and he was entirely too stressed to let anyone get on his nerves like this. A growl escaped his throat.
His next moves may as well be considered his worst in the past decade. Dipper rounded the counter and shoved the kid back, surprisingly making him stumble. "Watch it, kid!" Dipper spat. It was sickening to himself how he was letting himself get riled up over something so stupid. Regardless, the kid began to cry and wail, his still remaining smirk telling Dipper he was just faking it. All eyes in the store turned towards him disapprovingly. His grunkle walked out from the storeroom and saw the scene.
"What? Dipper-" That's when Stan realized something had happened. Dipper knew he had to explain, but when his eyes returned back to where the kid had been standing, he was gone. The other man didn't really understand the situation, so he did the most surprising thing Dipper had seen him do in all of his life: shoo out the customers without collecting their wallets.
All of the people left, begrudgingly. Lots of them shot Dipper dirty looks that made him look down at the floor in shame. He felt too tired to be bothered by this, but he was anyways. It wasn't fair! "Dipper, what's going on?" His grunkle approached him, a not-so-helpful hand landing on his shoulder. The least Stan could do was try to unravel all the tension that'd been bothering his nephew as of late. Dipper looked away and growled out in frustration. "A stupid kid-"
"No." His grunkle interrupted with him. "What has been going on with you this week? You've been acting up, you look like you haven't slept at all, and you're constantly muttering about some supernatural stuff and codes!" The older knew where this was going. Dipper knew it to. Stan was once again suspicious of his nephew returning back to the obsessive path that he had truly never left. It was miracle that Stan had only just begun to notice it; even though this week had been the worst Dipper had had in quite a while. This was only going to get worse, so Dipper attempted to put a stop to it before a the inescapable fight broke out. "Grunkle Stan... it's nothing important-"
"Damn right it's important!" Stan's voice rose, "This isn't like you Dipper! The kid I know wouldn't be as wounded up as you are now over something unimportant! So I want you to tell me exactly what's been happening." Anger bubbled up in the young man. He wanted to tell him, just to be done with it. Dipper could just leave and never see Stan till this mess was all over. Then he'd thank him for working himself to the bone to find Ford. With his uncle back, Dipper would be able to achieve so much more, and the world would praise his lineage. Those who hadn't would regret their ignorance.
This isn't like you, Dipper
He balled his fist up and stepped back from Stan, the hand leaving his shoulder. "I know where Ford is, Stan." A voice unlike Dipper's filled the room. It was angry, and filled with grief. Conflicting feelings crossed his eyes. Hope. Regret. Betrayal. Stan fell silent, his mouth drawn into a tight line. Distaste from those few words flicking across his expression. After a minute or so of silence, the older man spoke. "Dipper. I know you miss Ford, and I do to, but you have to let it go. He's dead Dipper. He won't come back. The sooner you put your grief and his obsession behind, the better it'll be for the family."
That was easily the worst possible thing Stan could've said to Dipper. "He may still be alive, Stan!" He held out his hand, gesturing towards the door. "Ford is out there somewhere and I have ONE opportunity to find out where he is. Even if he's gone... at least we'll know Stan! I can't go on knowing that Ford is still out there and we have done nothing to figure out if he's even dead or not! You're too caught up with keeping our family clean of him to even try!"
His words stung Stan beyond all else. He didn't know what Dipper could possibly be referring to as his chance to find Ford, but the words remained as poisonous and violent as they were intended to be. It showed him something. This wasn't the Dipper who said he wanted to take over the Shack. That Dipper wasn't even real, was he? "Fine!" The owner of the Mystery Shack exclaimed. "Go and waste your life for a lost cause, kid! Here's my advice for that: good luck finding all the answers in those fucking journals, because I'm not helping you anymore. Dipper, YOU'RE FIRED!" ...
So that was it, huh? Finally Stan had realized how little his nephew really cared for leaving the past behind. Dipper did care, and what he'd give to make everyone else see that his actions had purpose. He could make them great again. "I didn't need your help anyways Stan." Dipper grumbled before storming out of the building. The door slammed behind him, filling the Shack with only the rattling of wood upon impact.
Clutter surrounded him once again. Every passing second only seemed to add to the tossed aside papers and ideas. Nothing was working! "ARGH!" A growl erupted from Dipper's throat, tearing through the unused canal and making it come out as a thick croak. It'd been a two days since the beginning of unemployment. He hadn't answered any calls from anyone, nor did he pay attention to who they were from. His phone lay on the other side of the room, cracked after being thrown. It was off and mostly likely damaged internally. Dipper didn't care. He didn't mind everyone forgetting about him and giving him the solitude he desired. The loneliness would be warmly welcomed after he officially failed this code and his uncle.
Today. This was all he had left. No sleep, no food, no interaction with the world... you'd figure Dipper would be pretty focused on his work. After all, he was used to the sweet solitude he usually received when he got home. Yet he was all but focused. Stan. Ford. Mabel. His few but beloved friends. He could only think of their attitude towards him right now. Stan no doubt told the whole lot of them what had happened. They were probably sickened by how haunted Dipper was with the supernatural. That's what they were thinking after all. Stan probably figured that this all led back to the concept that he was engrossed with mysteries; but Dipper didn't want that anymore.
He wanted Ford. He wanted his uncle back. If he could have him rather than all the treasures and mysteries in the world; then Dipper would take Ford over it all. That's how much he wanted this. If Ford were back then there would be no reason for him to work alone or to burden himself with all around him.
This isn't like you, Dipper
Oh but it is. Why isn't it like you to go to the very end to save your own brother!
Go and waste your life
I'm not. I'm going to spend the rest of my life searching for something far beyond the importance of reputation: family.
Good luck finding all the answer in those fucking journals
They're all I need.
The journals are all I need; they are Ford. Ford had all the answers in his journals.
Journals.
Answers.
"Wait!" Dipper suddenly exclaimed. "Why didn't I realize this sooner?" He bolted up off of the floor from where he sat and hastily grabbed all three of the notebooks he possessed. There had to be something in here. Ford was a part of this group, was he not? Or... well it was possibility that he just knew them. Dipper wouldn't get any closer to figuring that one out unless he found the code translator however. Finally, in the second journal he found the decoder. "Yes! This is it!"
4-16-19 12-9-22-22-25
THE LOBBY
That was it! The location! But... wait a second...
I'm going to murder some small animals tonight and hang out near the location below at midnight on the 21st of this month
Location below.
The lobby below his room.
Despite the clear mockery in the letter, Dipper couldn't stop the wide grin that spread across his face. He did it! Now he knew where he could find this mystery person- and he only had an hour left. That should be plenty of time!
The boy bolted up and instantly began to pull on some decent attire. He wore his normal gray hoodie and jeans, fully prepared to go into stealth mode to avoid unwanted eyes. That was probably just him being a little too in the moment however. This guy probably wasn't wanted or anything, although he could be arrested for breaking and entering. Dipper pulled on his pine tree cap and looked over his room one last time. Everything was locked, all his books and notes were shoved under his dresser, and the lights were on. "Perfect."
Two days earlier...
"He's frustrated with the code, Bill." A small boy informed his superior. This was the same boy who had decided to dead eye Dipper with a rubber band. He was a newer recruit of Mindscape, and the youngest. "Haha! That kid is overthinking it! Nice work on the shot though, Teeth." Bill praised the younger with a smirk upon his lips. They were both in his small apartment where he directed most of his operations. It's not like they had the funds to have some lavish building dedicated to debauchery.
Or well. They did. Bill did. His family owned a bar chain that was extremely popular. Some of his goons, including Teeth would hang around there. He wouldn't use his fortune however to find his very own facility. That money was meant for someone else.
"He'll figure it out sooner or later! Sixer knows all of my codes." Teeth frowned at the older. Not everyone in Mindscape approved of the close relationship Bill had with "Sixer". That was Ford's code name, just how Teeth was his, and Cipher remained Bill's. Regardless, it was painfully obvious to the rest of the organization how much Bill trusted Ford. The feeling was mutual naturally. Ford trusted Bill with his life on every adventure they ever took part of together. Their partnership was solely business however. Ford was keen on keeping it that way, but Bill would occasionally tease him and make remarks that could be considered anything but business. Not that he could really stop Bill. The man was far more powerful and influential than Ford could ever be, though equally as intelligent. That's why Bill had liked him so much. He wasn't like the ignorant flesh sacks he surrounded himself with everyday. An equal, although an equal that could overpower him if Bill slipped up.
Teeth pursed his lips in a childish manner. He was a child after all. What was he again? Twelve? Surely not so young that he couldn't yet pull a trigger, because that kid could pull a trigger better than any man or woman on this godforsaken planet. "I don't think you should trust him." Teeth said, his voice small but Bill could tell he was speaking for most of the group. A daring move at that. The blonde narrowed his eyes down at his subordinate dangerously. "I don't trust anyone, kid." The comment made Teeth look away, hair falling into his face slightly. His red hair, light blue eyes and freckles made him the perfect ginger. A demon as some would call him jokingly. It was one of the things that intrigued Bill. Teeth was monstrous when the time was right, and his appearance only made him more so. "You trusted Sixer..." He grumbled in barely a whisper. It was clear that Teeth knew he was overstepping his bounds. Punishments from questioning Bill's choices were not entirely unheard of. The man made sure of that.
If gold could be lit aflame, then they it resemble Bill's eye. "What was that, kid?" He demanded, standing up from his chair to look at Teeth. Everyone in Mindscape knew that his tempers were the worst; usually leading to someone getting terribly injured. "Because I know I just said that I don't trust anyone." Slowly and menacingly he approached Teeth. The younger backed away fearfully. Bill could squash him in the worst of ways. Teeth wouldn't shoot him, and even if he would, he couldn't. He didn't have a gun on him. Cipher usually made sure that whenever one of his subordinates visited that they discarded all weapons at the front. Teeth hadn't even brought anything.
"It-It was nothing Master Cipher..." Teeth finally said after being backed into a wall. His fingers clawed at the paint in worry. That was it. Cipher was finally going to make him an example to the rest. The ginger should've realized that changing Bill's mind wasn't going to work. His word was law, and it never changed. Bill was directly in front of Teeth now. The younger boy shut his eyes tight, prepared for a beating or whatever the other would do to him. Instead, he felt a hand land on his shoulder and a chuckle escaped Bill's lip. "Good choice. Now head on back home, kid. Meet me back here on the sixth day. You'll be helping me cut down a pine tree!"
It only took Dipper a moment for him to leave his apartment room and head down to the lobby. Empty. Nothing he hadn't expected. After all, he was an hour early. However, he wanted to make sure that he didn't miss this mystery person.
Ten minutes into his wait, Dipper opted to break out his journal. He brought Journal Number 2 with him. Now that he knew how to crack Mindscape's codes, he figured he may as well decode the ones he couldn't before. He was relieved to find that even the codes involving strange and unknown symbols could be translated with the journal. There was no longer a doubt in his mind that Ford had some large role in Mindscape. How else would he figure out all their secrets? It saddened him slightly that there were no entries on the secret society, but he figured Ford wouldn't write them down if he was keen on keeping them secret. More often than not, Dipper would leave him journals in some place while he roamed. The chance that someone would steal his journals was too great to be leaving classified information written down.
"Kid," said a voice in front of him. Dipper was sitting on one of the waiting chairs in the lobby, his cracked phone in his hand. It wasn't entirely broken apparently. There was a wicked crack across the screen though. Nothing he wouldn't be able to fix if he found time to. The brunette looked up towards the voice and found a very ugly man standing in front of him. His eyes were... bugged. Like a pug. Silently he wondered if he was blind, but he was clearly looking directly at Dipper. Was this the man who left the note? "Y-Yeah?" He stuttered. The guy may be blind or have some deformation, but he was buff and much bigger than Dipper. He was clearly some form of muscle. "I've been requested to escort you to the meeting place."
Oh so it wasn't here. "Are you from Mindscape?" Dipper asked, still unsure whether or not he should trust this man. It was entirely unlikely that this man was from anywhere else, but it there was always the possibility he was simply trying to lure Dipper into some unknown place for who knows what. Nothing good, he decided. "You'll find out." Was his reply before he promptly walked out.
Was that a test? Dipper figured it was now or never that he follow. If he followed, he way find his uncle or be abducted. If not, then he'd be safe, but never find Ford. Realizing that he didn't have much to return to anyways, Dipper followed. He was confident that this guy was taking him to the right place.
He followed silently behind. Journal 2 was tucked safely in the inside pocket of his hoodie. Dipper didn't feel safe enough bringing it out with someone so near. Especially this guy. "I'm Dipper, by the way. What's your name?" Dipper said after about fifteen minutes of silent walking. It was getting too awkward even for the quiet boy.
The bigger man didn't glance back, nor did he reply till they arrived at a gravel driveway. "8-ball." He replied while Dipper gawked at the location, not even paying attention to him anymore.
Why. Why were they here? The gravel if not the location easily gave away where this meeting place was at. Even the familiar scent of pine trees was enough to inform Dipper.
Why were they at Ford's house? "Why-" Dipper turned around, only to find that 8-ball had vanished. He shuddered. There was something weird about this. Mindscape had to have known this was Ford's house. Why else would he be here? Was the leader of Mindscape here? Was there something here that they wanted to show him?
The house was empty. Or rather, untouched would be a better word for the state of the building. For whatever reason, the Pine's family had refused to sell or destroy the location. Dipper never knew why, since they so annoyingly tried to push all evidence of being related to Ford away. It was a tabby house however, and he could imagine whoever moved into it would be a poorer family. The house was made entirely of logs that his uncle had cut down in the surrounding land. Ford made this place nearly all by himself, with the exception of a few construction machines.
There were so many memories here. Dipper would come here during the summer to hang out with Ford, while working the Mystery Shack part time. Him, Mabel, and his other summer friends would have adventures in these long forgotten woods surrounding the town. Sometimes Ford would take Dipper out alone to go spy on strange creatures that inhabited the surrounding area. Ford had once claimed that the supernatural liked to be around Gravity Falls, which he never truly explained to Dipper. Whenever he asked, Ford would always give him the same excuse. "You're too young to understand." He was, of course, very young at the time. Only about eleven or twelve. Even as the top of his class, Dipper still seemed to struggle understanding the scientific concepts his uncle devised. Not that he minded. Ford had promised him to make him his apprentice when he was of age to start exploring more dangerous regions of the world.
That never happened though. Dipper sighed heavily and walked forward into the abandoned land. He could walk this gravel road with his eyes closed, he'd been down it so many times. Alone, with Mabel, or with the rest of his friends. Now he was alone and this time; he wasn't awaiting adventure. He was awaiting the unknown, which was much more frightening. The grim image of Ford's old home shifted out of the trees. There it was. Plants and other things had grown over the shack-looking building. The lights weren't on, and the smell of musk and rotting wood invaded his senses. While the Pine's family still owned the deed to the land and the house, none of them had ever returned to this place. No wonder it was in such horrible condition.
Dipper did his best to ignore the sickening smell and went to the door. His hand lingered on the handle a little more than should've been considered safe. The amount of gunk and shards of metal couldn't be good for his skin. Regardless, he gave it a twist and found that it was indeed open. He let out a breath of relief. It'd be much worse if he had to break in or if he to knock. Mostly because then he'd have to wait longer and by then he'd probably be much more worried about what was inside.
As soon as his foot made contact with wood, the whole house seemed to shudder. The sound caused him to jump slightly. He'd have to be careful. Falling through the floor while meeting a mysterious person could only be bad. At least he'd be able to hear anyone coming towards him. He took another step in and thankfully found that the floor didn't give. "H-Hello? Mindscape? Uh, I'm Dipper Pines!" Dipper couldn't hide the nervousness in his voice. Why hadn't he brought a weapon? He didn't own any guns, but a knife or just anything else would make him feel more secure right now.
He took a few more steps in before he felt the cold of metal against his back. "Empty your pockets. Give me your name, birth date, phone number and apartment room number." Said a young voice behind him. The childish tone rung a bell in Dipper's head. Where had he heard that before? "Do it moron."
... The kid from the shop.
It was the same voice, but why? He did as he was told and emptied his pockets of his journal, phone, and pen. There were several scrap pieces of paper in his pocket, all of them irrelevant. However the kid seemed more interested in the journal. He kicked the notebook aside. "Go on." He urged, pressing the gun further into his back. "Dipper Pines, August 31st, 1999, 541-512-1220, room 442." He rambled out, fear welling up in his stomach. It may be a kid behind him, but a kid with a gun was just as terrifying as any person with a gun. And if he could shoot just as well with this thing as that rubber band gun, then Dipper was in no position to be struggling.
A snicker escaped the younger's lips. He took the gun off of Dipper's back, but the older boy knew it was still aimed at him. "Go and see the boss in the attic. You better know where that is." The Pines twin glanced back. It was the kid no doubt, the same red hair was poking out through his little hoodie. As soon as the kid noticed that Dipper had seen him, he pointed the pistol he had in his hands at the spot where he'd hit Dipper in the forehead. Dipper quickly averted his gaze and walked up the creaking stairs.
Teeth could only chuckle at Dipper's jumpy personality. He reminded him of a deer. Easily startled, but interesting to watch. Even without his great uncle being Ford, Teeth could see why Cipher had taken such an interest in him. He found himself waiting for Pines to do something different. Put up a fight maybe. It'd be fun to watch Cipher silence his rebellion.
It didn't seem like he was going to do anything though. With the way he complied to being stripped down like that, Teeth figured he wasn't looking for any trouble. Only Cipher really knew what he was after. Although Teeth had some ideas. Power probably, he had decided. Something to keep him busy maybe. Dipper didn't have anything else to do, and Teeth knew since he'd stuck around to see Dipper get fired. He was probably looking for purpose; something they could supply easily. It wasn't any of his business though. In fact, his work here was done. Bill hadn't even asked him to stick around. He just wanted him to empty his pockets so that there would be less trouble, if there was any.
He began to make his way out of the house, but before he left, his foot kicked the discarded journal and phone. Teeth squatted down and inspected them. The boss would probably want these for later, he thought to himself. It... couldn't hurt to look through them though, before he gave them up, right? Teeth picked the two items up and walked out of the house. He'd wait back at Cipher's place, since the Cipher family bar was already closed up.
The fact that the stairs seemed to crunch under his malnourished body made Dipper a bit wary. He'd heard the kid leave after he'd reached halfway up the steps, and Dipper was honestly not wanting to be rescued by the very person he was supposed to meet if he fell through the boards. As soon as he reached the second floor of the building he let out a breath of relief. This place was so old, but it was just as familiar.
A feeling of nostalgia swam around in his stomach. All the adventures that had taken place in this house. All the shenanigans. This was where he childhood was. "Ah!" The boy shrieked as a rodent scurrying across his foot made him jump. Right. Now is not the time for remembering. Dipper turned his attention back to the way to the attic room. Just another flight of stairs. As he began to walk up the even more rotten steps, he realized that there were no sounds coming from the attic room. If someone was really up there, then they had to be completely still. No doubt the attic room experienced the worst of water damage and rotting judging by the shape of these stairs.
Right as he reached the upper steps, he was able to peer past the stair guard.
Blonde hair. Glittering gold eyes that glinted blue in the open red stained window. He sat on the window seat, staring over a pair of broken glasses. Dipper's eyes widened.
They were Ford's glasses.
And the man holding them was...
... Bill Cipher.
"What." It was the only thing he could manage. This was the cocky guy he saw in the Mystery Shack at the beginning of his torturous week. "Don't be so surpised, kid! I gave you way too many hints for this to be a surprise. The hints were worth their weight in gold." A diabolical laugh filled the room. Gold? Dipper thought for a moment. Bill had said something about gold... hadn't he...
I'll smell you later Pinetree! Buy some gold- you'll need it!
Then the website...
Reality is an illusion. The universe is a hologram. Buy gold! Bye!
It was beginning to annoy Dipper how painfully oblivious he'd been this entire time.
Bill smirked at him playfully and glanced at Dipper's pulled out pockets. "Teeth got you good, didn't he? How'd it feel to be robbed Pinetree? Because with that sort of attitude you got there is an open invitation to every single thug out there. I bet you left your wallet downstairs too!"
Dipper hadn't even realized he'd left his stuff downstairs. How could he focus on that with a gun pointed at his face?! "Why are you here Bill?" He asked with clenched teeth. Was this a joke? This was just some random guy he met in the shop! Was this really the idiot who wanted to meet him?
"Woah! No need to be so venomous Pinetree! I just wanted to welcome you into my Mindscape, give you the low down... maybe make a few deals." Deals. That single word alone sent a shiver down Dipper's body, and he had no idea why. Maybe it was because Bill looked like the sorta guy you'd ask for money and then he'd ask for your fingers in return. He also looks like he would use the fingers in some horrific way. "Deals?" Dipper asked, although he wasn't quite sure he wanted to know. If Bill wasn't going to ask for his fingers, then Dipper would attempt to at least reason with him into giving information about his uncle. He'd have to be smart about it since Bill didn't look entirely stupid. Not to mention the fact that "my Mindscape" indicated Bill was the leader of this organization. He was intelligent enough to run a large group of people, which is something that shouldn't be overlooked.
The blonde stood up from his spot on the window seat and twirled around the glasses that had obviously belonged to Ford. Bill knew Dipper knew. He was using it.
He knows what you want...
"Of course, kid! I mean, what's the point of dragging you out into a dingy little house if I'm not going to make the most of it, right?" His charming voice informed Dipper. "I'm sure you'll benefit as well!" Him? Benefit? Dipper knew exactly what Bill had in mind. It should've been clear from the start. He was going to use Dipper in some way, then in return give him information. In all honesty though, it should've been inspected. He was originally invited here to officially join Mindscape. Over the past few days however, he realized he never really wanted to join. Not even for the benefits of discovery. When he realized this it was about the same time he realized all he wanted was to find his uncle. He should've expected that Bill would tempt him into joining by hanging evidence of Ford being alive in his face. Those glasses.
Dipper crossed his arms and inspected the other. He didn't know if he should trust this guy. Cipher obviously had some goons working for him that didn't mind getting their hands dirty. The website didn't show much of it, but it hinted the trouble and debauchery that they had caused. Not to mention Dipper literally walked in with a gun pressed to his back. Bill was a criminal. Just threatening him like that with a gun was considered assault! "What do you want from me?" The brunette asked, wariness in his voice although he attempted to sound unafraid. Bill may have a gun, a knife, or some other weapon of murder. He probably had some sort of attack strategy up his sleeve, but Dipper had nothing. He had to tread carefully.
A disturbingly wicked smirk spread across his impish face. "Well that's easy Pinetree! I just want you to help me with a little... project, I've been working on. I assume you've heard of the fountain of youth?" Dipper nodded. Mindscape had made frequent mentions of the relic on their site. Was it really their largest project? And what did Dipper have to offer that would make their dream a reality? "Of course you do! Then you know what it is and where it's supected to be located. You should've also figured out that I'm wanting to find it. And that is where you come in, kid! I need you, Dipper Pines, to help me find it."
Not much of a surprise now that Dipper had found himself thinking more about it. "What do I get in return?" Dipper asked, although he knew the answer. What he hadn't expected was the way Bill Cipher answered his question.
"You'll find ol' Fordsy on the way."
...
The statement alone sent bells ringing all inside Dipper's head. Ford. Bill was promising that they would find him. Him? Alive? Dead? His body? What would they find of Ford? Maybe a deranged man who'd lost his mind. His old uncle...
"I-Is my uncle alive?" He furthered. Dipper needed more than what was said! He needed proof, evidence, anything! Something that could give him more hope rather than doubt. Bill tutted. "Now now Pinetree! That's not very fair~ I'm sure you'll figure it out soon enough though. As for now... Is that a deal?" The blonde outstretched his tattooed and tanned hand to Dipper for the taking. He couldn't help but wonder what those hands had taken from people. Money, family... lives...
Wickedly talented hands found another, more delicate set grasping them. Different emotions flicked through each of their eyes. Golden eyes look aflame, absolutely gleeful about what could happen and what was happening. However large brown orbs never flitted away from the interlocked hands, confused and scared. The unknown was something that had always plagued Dipper, and this surely wasn't making it any more clear.
The brunette took a step back and found a broken pair of glasses in his palm. Ford...
"Welcome to Mindscape, kid."
If any night during the life of Dipper Pines required the pleasure of drinking; it was surely tonight. Dipper, a not very refined person, sipped on a lukewarm bottle of beer as he scrolled through page after page concerning the Fountain of Youth. His mind wasn't necessarily focused on the words, but more so on the pictures. It wasn't a lie that Dipper couldn't hold his alcohol whatsoever. Even Mabel knew this and usually tried to dissuade her brother from drinking at parties she'd sometimes attend with Pacifica; who was a summer friend that Mabel had somehow managed to keep contact with over the years. Those were the only times he had ever drunk alcohol outside of his home. However beer never really intoxicated Dipper unless he was actually determined to get drunk off of it. It was something his grunkle and him had so often that it really didn't affect him. Other beverages were an entirely different story.
He wasn't all too focused though. Dipper's mind occasionally wandered from the pictures to thoughts of Bill. The man had informed him that their meeting place would be at Ford's home, and that whenever he required a meeting he'd just message Bill over email. The idea was a little odd to Dipper however. After all, Bill Cipher was supposed to be a leader of a secret organization. It didn't settle with him correctly how he was so chill with passing out his email and private information. Well, nothing too private. Dipper didn't know where the man truly lived, nor did he have any clue about his family. His attire in the attic gave him the impression that Bill wasn't too well off, but he was well kept. His hair was nearly flawless...
For once in his life, Dipper found himself patting down his messy hair. It was soft and an average hue of brown, but it was ruffled in every angle and never could be put down. Sometimes, Dipper liked to think of it as some untamed beast. The thought brought a chuckle through his lips. Laughing alone. Again. Silently he pondered the next time he'd be able to face his family. No doubt after he got Ford back. Still, he found himself missing the happy laugh of his sister and the constant harassment of Stan.
Pathetic, he thought to himself. It has only been two days and Dipper was already feeling homesick! Maybe he should go back and apologize to his grunkle. Stan would probably refuse it, saying that he was too corrupt by idealism to belong. Maybe he was right. No. He's wrong. What Dipper is doing is right! It's not corrupt at all! In fact, it's chilvarious, heroic, helpful! Better than anything his grunkle could do in a lifetime! Anything he would do, Dipper wanted to add.
A yawn filled the room. Dipper blinked away his sleep and looked at the tiny numbers at the bottom left of his computer screen. It was almost three in the morning. The meeting hadn't taken that long of course, but Dipper had been up celebrating and relaxing for most of that time. He took one last glance at the pictures depicting the relic and shut his laptop.
Now was not the time for that. He needed rest, badly. And rest well-deserved. Dipper pulled off his clothes, once again finding himself leaving the window open to let some cool air in. The heating unit was down again. Once stripped bare of everything but his boxers, Dipper shut the lights off in his room and snuggled into his sheets.
He hoped to dream of treasure and finding his missing uncle.
"I'll find you Ford..." Dipper Pines murmured quietly, the glasses of Ford resting on his desk, before shutting his eyes and falling into the most satisfying slumber he's had in a long time.