When Dipper came to, he was already sitting at the kitchen table, fork in his hand, and food in his mouth. Mabel was laughing, hair pulled into a scrunchy and spatula in her hand – obviously cooking. It was like a hazy dream, and Dipper's body felt heavy, as if he was about to fall asleep once more. He was responding to Mabel's questions without effort, and with sudden jolt Dipper realized he wasn't in control of his actions. Memories of last night flooded over him, the chase, the struggle, and Bill. He was no longer in control of himself.
"…so if I spend more time with… F- er… Grunkle Ford, I think I'll be able to work out troubles." Bill was saying through a mouthful of pancakes.
Troubles with what?
Good morning Pine Tree, thought you'd never join us.
Dipper's heart leapt, and he tried to stifle his panic. On the outside, Bill was still chatting with Mabel, but on the inside he holding a completely different conversation with Dipper.
You can't hide anything from me, Sapling. I can feel everything you do; so go ahead, panic.
It was worded like a challenge. Of course Bill was enjoying this. Dipper vainly attempted to ground his thoughts and focus on Mable, but he couldn't stop thinking about Bill. It was all too real. He should have told Bill to go to hell. He should have faced James head on and tried to talk everything out. Even if James had beaten him within an inch of his life, it would have been better than this. But now Bill was in his head, in his body, and talking to his sister. What had he been doing while Dipper was unconscious? Could Bill take control over him every time he went to sleep?
Don't worry, we're friends! Remember last time I was in your body? This will be fun.
Bill rose from their seat at the table, his left knee buckled for a moment before Bill got his balance. He hadn't yet adapted to having a human body, but Mabel had been too busy to notice.
He dropped the dishes in the sink with a little too much force and turned to face Mabel again.
She was making a pancake shaped like Mickey Mouse, "So I really think she's going to buy me another pig to keep Waddles company for my birthday."
Bill looked around the kitchen, hardly listening. He had no interest in Mabel's story,
"When did you say ol' Fo-" he caught himself again, "Grunkle Stan and Ford would be back?"
"Just in a few days, why? You miss them already?" Mabel poked the spatula at him, a teasing smile on her lips.
Bill laughed, but it sounded awkward. It didn't sound like Dipper. Mabel's smile faltered, he eyes softening,
"You okay, bro-bro? I know things have been rough with James lately."
That's was an understatement.
Bill smiled warmly at her, "I don't think I'll be seeing him much anymore."
Mabel blinked and studied Dipper's expression – he was too calm, and he looked too happy. Bill must have realized this was an inappropriate time to smile and he relaxed the muscles in his face.
"Did you two break up? What happened?"
"We… uh…" Bill wasn't blinking, and he twirled his hand in the air as if he needed something to fidget with.
Had his conversation been this awkward while Dipper was asleep too? Dipper wasn't sure if he was glad that Bill was an unconvincing actor, or if he was scared of what he would do to Mabel if she found out what was going on. Would Bill hurt her?
I'd tear her open like Christmas present, Sapling. I think it's time to establish a few ground rules.
Dipper's heart sank. Then, without warning his body collapsed to the floor, folding forward as if made out of cloth,
Go ahead, kid, this is your debut. Tell her what happened with ol' Romeo there. But if you even so much as blink the wrong way I'll tear every nail off of her pretty little hands and cut out her tongue so she can't make the same mistake.
Dipper had his body back. He pulled himself into a sitting position, Mabel's hands were on his shoulders already and she was staring into his eye's intently,
"Dipper, can you hear me?"
He blinked and flexed his hands, feeling his body again as if he had been asleep for years.
"Mabel, I…"
"Should I call an ambulance? Do you need a doctor?"
She held him steady as he tried to stand up,
"I just got really dizzy there for a second." He lied, pulling himself to his feet, "James uh… left."
She stared at him, "He left you? What happened?"
She half-helped, half-forced Dipper into a kitchen chair again and pulled one closer for her to sit on.
His mind raced, he couldn't say the wrong thing, "Nothing! Nothing don't worry. We just split up."
Bill felt heavy in the back of his mind, oddly quiet, but too uncomfortable and oppressive to forget.
Mabel's face shifted in disbelief,
"Really? Oh my God Dipper, that's great!" She squealed and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing for just a moment before she paused, "I… uh… I mean." She laughed uncomfortably.
Dipper chuckled awkwardly, "He uh… I guess you really didn't like him."
She looked at her feet, hands still on his shoulders. Her eyes steeled and raised her head,
"I know how he treated you, Dipper."
Dipper froze. She had known all this time? He knew he shouldn't have been surprised – Mabel knew everything about him - but he had worked so hard to keep her out of his mess.
She didn't wait for a response, "He hurt you, didn't he?"
It was Dipper's turn to look at the floor, "Yeah."
He shouldn't feel ashamed, but he did. He hated that he had gotten himself into that mess. He felt responsible for every time he had been hurt. Responsible for every time he had made Mabel worry.
"I'm glad you're safe." She hugged him again, "and if you ever wanna talk about it, I'm here, okay, bro-bro?"
He smiled weakly up at her, "Thanks Mabel."
Bill was getting bored, and Dipper felt his fingers twitch involuntarily.
"I'm gonna go nap." He quickly rose from the chair and moved towards the kitchen doorway.
They both glanced at the oven clock. It blinked "10:49AM" back at them.
"Already?" She stood too, and studied him again, "Alright. I'll be in the Mystery Shack, come get me if you need anything."
Instead of his bedroom, Dipper slipped into the bathroom, and as soon as the door clicked behind him his body began to move on its own again. The hallway had been spotless, as was the bathroom. Had Bill cleaned everything up while he was asleep? But now was his chance to sort things out. Figure out what Bill was really after.
"What do you want, Bill? What are you going to do with me?"
Bill laughed, the sound echoing through Dipper's mind deafeningly,
Oh, Pine Tree. What makes you think I want anything? I'm just enjoying spending time with my favourite flesh bag.
Dipper strained for control, but it was hopeless; he couldn't outpower Bill. Bill must have felt Dippers attempts as he chucked again, opening the medicine cabinet as if perusing a store,
We've got a lot of time to kill before ol' Fordsie and the fat one are back, huh? Wanna play a little game? I haven't forgotten how wonderful these bodies are, don't you remember our time together before, at the puppet show? Except this time you can join in on the fun.
"What did you say to Mabel while I was asleep?" Dipper didn't want to play Bill's games.
And you're sister's great! She's awful worried about you, Sapling. But those pancakes are to die for.
Dipper felt a pang in his chest – of course Mabel had been worried. He should have known better than to keep the abuse a secret, but even now he didn't know what to tell her.
Bill had closed the cabinet and stared into the mirror, pulling at the collar of Dipper's shirt to examine a bruise on his shoulder. He whistled, twisting his neck to get a better view,
You humans sure know how to make love, kid.
Dipper tried not to reply, but Bill heard his thoughts anyway: James had never loved Dipper.
Surprisingly, Bill didn't seem phased, perhaps because he bore little interest in Dipper's personal relationships, and perhaps because he lacked the empathy to appreciate the seriousness of Dipper's situation. Maybe both.
Bill pulled the shirt off in a swift movement and turned to admire Dipper's back where several smaller bruises were almost healed. He dropped the shirt thoughtlessly and spun to see Dipper's chest once more,
This is just beautiful. You're going to love being my play toy.
Dipper's heart dropped through his stomach, what did Bill mean by that? His heart was already picking up speed and his stomach turned.
Bill's eyes laughed back at Dipper through the mirror, maintaining eye contact as he trailed a finger over his chest and stopped at his belt buckle,
Let's get a few things straight: don't even try to tell anyone about our little arrangement here. I know everything that runs through your mind, and I own every inch of this sack of flesh. We have an agreement, Sapling, and there'll be consequences if you try to break the contract. You can't get away from me, so don't even bother trying.
There's no way this was permanent. Grunkle Ford would know what to do, Dipper just needed to talk to him.
But Bill knew as soon as the thought crossed Dipper's mind, and Dipper watched in the mirror as an eerie grin spread across his own face.
Don't test me, Pine Tree.
Bill's eyes wandered over the counter, pausing on Dipper's razor,
Wanna taste of what will happen to your family if you try anything?
He picked it up and admired it thoughtfully; maybe he was just showcasing it to Dipper for dramatic effect. He pressed the button to drop the blade from the handle and watched the head clatter into the sink. Gently, he set the handle down perpendicular to the edge of the counter and reached to grab the blade.
Don't you remember? Pain in hilarious.
Dipper tried to hold his breath, tried to close his eyes, but he couldn't. Bill had him trapped. He no longer had any control over himself; no control over anything. His body was no longer his own, and he wasn't confident that it ever would be again. His head was pounding and stress was building like pressure in his skull.
Bill gently pressed the blade against his bare wrist, and slowly wiggled it until it bit into the skin just the slightest bit. A drop of blood beaded at the edge of one of the blades, and Dipper began to tell himself that this wouldn't be so bad. Sure, it would hurt, but Bill wouldn't kill him now. If he doesn't want anyone else to know what's going on then he'll be careful about the damage he inflicts… right?
His optimistic thoughts suddenly plummeted from his mind as Bill forcefully raked the razor downwards along his skin, as if attempting to shave the very skin off of his arm. The blade bounced unevenly as pieced of skin ripped from his arm. The only grace was that the skin began to stick to the blades of the razor, sparing patches along his arm as the blade reached his elbow. The pain was unbearable, and Dipper was screaming in his own mind. It was over as soon as it had started, but there was too much blood pouring from his skin for him to know how much damage had really been done. He fought for control, trying vainly to grab at his arm. He wanted to scream and cry, but the only noise that escaped his lips was an amused hiss as Bill admired his work. Inwardly, Dipper fought to grab a towel and put pressure over the would; to grab his arm; to drop the blade. Anything. But Bill didn't relent control. Instead he twisted the arm to admire the true extent of the damage. Blood splattered onto the counter and into the sink, already slowing the bleeding. The pain however, wasn't yet subsiding. Bill laughed inwardly, moving the arm over the sink to watch the blood dribble down the drain. Dipper felt like he couldn't breath. His mind spun as he tried to grapple with the pain. He needed something to try and ground himself.
Could he find six things that he could see? The sink, the blade, the…
His mind stuck on the blade. How much more was Bill going to hurt him? Dipper didn't know if he could handle much more. And how much blood had he lost? Would he need to go to the hospital?
Wow you humans really can't handle your pain!
Just ignore him. Just breath.
Oh, don't be so dramatic. It's not even deep. What would you have done with that skin anyway?
Bill's laughter grew in his mind, threatening to consume him. But the pain was fading. He would be alright.
You humans are fascinating creatures. Wanna try that again?
He was baiting him. Dipper knew that Bill was just trying to scare him, to throw him back into a frantic state that couldn't think things through logically. He knew this, but that didn't stop Dipper's stomach from twisting and his breakfast from churning in his stomach – was Bill really going to do that again? Bill heaved into the sink, vomit mixing with the blood.
If I had known you'd be this much fun, I would have done this years ago!
Bill wiped his face with the back of his hand before coughing up more vomit,
God, do that again!
Fuck. How long were things going to be this way? Dipper knew he couldn't handle a lifetime full of this torment. He had to talk to Grunkle Ford.
Oh, Pine Tree. You'll learn soon. You're never going to escape this. I'm a part of you now. And every time you think about leaving me,
he pressed the blade against the same bleeding skin,
I'll carve that thought right out of your mind.
Oh no no no no-
Bill dragged the blade along his arm again, ripping deeper into the skin and catching on the scarce pieces that remained from the first attempt. Dipper's arm was on fire.
Dropping the blade onto the counter, Bill let the tap run. The vomit and blood swirled down the drain until only the splatters around the edge of the sink remained, but his arm continued to bleed, dripping into the empty sink for what felt like an eternity. Bill ran a finger over the wound thoughtlessly, the contact causing another surge of erratic pain. An involuntary tremor ran through his body, shocking Bill for a moment.
That was ama-zing~ Was that you, Pine Tree?
Dipper tried to tune him out, mentally listing the contents around the sink and where they had come from: Mabel's hair pin, a gift from Stan for their birthday. Hair brush, the convenience store down the street.
Bill sucked on the bloody finger, seemingly listening to Dipper run through his list.
You know, ol' Fordsie was never half as much fun as you are.
The toothbrush was from his parents place, probably from Walmart.
Bill looked back into the mirror, and Dipper stared himself in the eyes again once more. The same eerie smirk played on his lips that bared his teeth like a lunatic.
But the toothpaste was from Walmart, right? How many items was that? And-
His stomach lurched again, Bill lifting the blade to eye level,
How about this, where did you get this from?
Bill doubled over the sink again, body shaking and his empty stomach trying to force out anything it may still have to offer. Bill laughed between pained coughs, but this time he laughed out loud. The noise was like nails on a chalk-board. It was so close to Dipper's own, and yet something about it seemed so different.
Dipper's head was light, and he wondered if Bill could feel it too, but Bill was preoccupied with wiping the counter down with a hand-towel and paid Dipper no mind. Everything felt heavy and as if any moment now they would collapse to the floor. How much blood had he really lost? Bill was wrapping the towel around their forearm, as he fell backwards against the wall behind. Slowly, he slid to the floor and leant his head back against the wall.
You humans and your obsession with blood.
Dipper couldn't tell if it was a joke or not, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. Within minutes he had drifted to sleep.