When I first started this fic, this was the first chapter that came to mind, but not the first one i wrote. Takes place directly after Sock Opera, where Stan and Bill are quasi back together.
Stan sat in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. A certain someone had some explaining to do. The kids had gone to bed a few hours ago, and while Stan was sure they fell right asleep (after all, today had been a busy day), he still wanted to wait a little while before he talked to his… Whatever he and Bill were these days. Just to be sure there were no listening ears.
"Bill, I know you're watching," he said to the empty air. "So give up the pretense and dreamscape me."
Stan looked around, and noticed the world was still full of color. He leaned back in his recliner and groaned. He was getting too old for this. "Now," he said.
Of course, Stan had no way of knowing if Bill was actually watching, but after today Stan was pretty sure he would be. Just when he was about to get up and pull out the candles (Bill Cipher would be explaining, no matter what), the world faded to muted gray.
"You really do care, Stan, I'm touched," said Bill with slightly more sincerity than he would ever admit to.
"Bill," Stan began, "would you care to explain why, exactly, my great nephew required stitches in his arm and has a sprained wrist." It wasn't a question.
"He was getting in too deep," Bill said, with only the barest amounts of glee. "So I took care of it!" He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Stan let out an exasperated sigh. It figured. He knew Bill well enough to understand his logic. Kid gets too close to the truth, so the natural thing to do is throw him off the trail. Youcould do this by gently steering him away from the supernatural with physical training, or leaving false clues, Stan's preferred method. Or, you could take the direct approach, Bill's approach, and take matters into your own hands. Of course, with Bill, 'your own hands' meant 'Dipper's hands,' because of course Bill never had to do things the rational way.
Yes, Stan understood the logic, and it worked, to some extent. Stan knew Dipper wouldn't be back out in the woods for a few days (though it was only a matter of time before he was hitting the trails, once again) and with the laptop gone (kid didn't even realize Stan knew about it- he had intercepted it when Soos dropped it off and put a password on it, but of course that was no deterrent) there was no way Dipper could figure out the identity of that six-fingered nerd on his own.
"Sorry, I forgot that your idea of 'taking care of it' usually resulted in involuntary possession," Stan said sarcastically.
"You're welcome," Bill said, cane manifesting out of the ether for the sole purpose of jabbing it in Stans direction.
"Sides," he continued, "it wasn't totally involuntary. Pine Tree did make a deal, after all. Didn't you teach that kid about dealing with demons?" Bill tsked and gave the impression of shaking his head. "He's lucky it was only me, kid did not think that one through."
"Bill, I may not know exactly what happened, but I do know you made an offer while he was severely sleep deprived. Trust me, it was involuntary." Stan deadpanned.
Bill rolled his eye. "Still doesn't change the fact that he hardly thought twice about what I was askin' for."
Now there was a thought. Dipper may be young but he was calculating. He never did anything without carefully weighing the pro and cons. And Stan really did mean everything. Kid wouldn't even take a shower without making a two page list.
Stan eyed Bill skeptically. "So what did you ask for that was so seemingly harmless?"
Bill did a little dance with his cane before throwing his arms out wide. "A puppet!" He gleefully exclaimed.
Stan's palm met his forehead with a groan. "Could you be anymore obvious?"
"Yep!" Said Bill. He never quite got the concept of rhetorical questions.
Stan would be having a talk with Dipper very soon about making deals without understanding the full implications of them. He'd have to be careful about it, though. He didn't want the kids to know he was onto their continuing mystery hunt, and he definitely didn't want them knowing he knew Bill. That wouldn't end well.
"Look, Bill, next time you wanna keep the kids off a trail can you run it by me first?"
"Jeeze, Stan, no need to be such a wet blanket." Bill snapped his fingers, and, predictably enough, a sopping wet quilt plopped into Stan's lap.
Stan didn't bat an eye, already reaclimated to Bills unique sense of humor, and simply pushed it onto the floor. "I'm being serious here, Bill."
Bill snapped his fingers and the quilt was gone. "Sure kid," he said with a roll of his eye, "if it'll help you sleep at night."
"It will. And don't call me kid, I'm a grown adult," he said crossing his arms.
"Everyone's a kid to me, kid!" Bill tipped his hat. Now he was just doing it on purpose. "Now, if you don't mind," Bill sang, leaving the 'I'll be leaving now' unspoken.
"Sure, sure," Stan said, casually shooing the demon away. "Go do whatever it is you do, make people, I don't know, step on legos or whatever." He waved a hand dismissively.
"See ya around, Stanford. And remember: I'll be watching!" He said just before winking out of existence.
Stan woke up out of his chair with a start. "Of course you will," he said as he rested his elbow on his knees and rubbed his eyes.
He should have been more upset or unnerved at Bills methods, but he found it hard to be. He knew Bill, knew he liked to cause trouble, and knew that Bill didn't really know where the line was. Sure, he had his own personal limits, but they were so far past what people would consider reasonable as to be considered heinous.
It didn't help that Stan himself had a dubious moral standard, so perhaps that was why Bill's methods weren't nearly so unreasonable seeming as they probably should've been. Of course, sometimes Stan wondered if he would have the same moral code without Bill's influence. But in the end, it didn't really matter, did it? Wondering about it didn't change the fact that Stan sat there, decidedly unbothered by Bill's methods.
This fic is primarily prompt based. If there's anything you'd like to see, feel free to leave it in a review, and it'll go into the prompt pool