AN: Posting this chapter is something of a milestone for me, for a number of reasons. First, it's the first multichapter story I've ever completed, and that's an incredible feeling. Second, I've always had a lot of love for this fic since it's what got me back into writing this past year (hard to believe it's been seven months!) and has introduced me to a whole community on tumblr (I made my secondary blog Mabel-but-Slytherin (formerly acekanigirl) to post the first chapter of this) as well as solidified an incredible friendship with the amazing sapphireswimming that the original oneshot chapter was dedicated to.
As if that wasn't enough, this is the first time I've written a chapter out of order, which took away way more pressure writing it out than I knew I was even experiencing, and that in turn taught me a ton about how I write. Sadly even the stress I put on myself to get the next chapter up can kill my muse, and writing a chapter without that was freeing in more ways than one.
Having had this chapter done since March (I was originally hoping to post it on my birthday last month, but chapter 3 took until about the week before to write and RUINED EVERYTHING!) I've really been looking forward to sharing it with you all, as personally I think it's some of my best work, especially with dialogue. It's sad to say goodbye with this fic, but I have so many plans for the sequel. In fact, everything since the first line of chapter two has been building up to the plot that comes after. That said, I can't give any guarantees on when the beginning of that will be except that it'll be months, and if it comes before that it'll be extremely irregular. I'd love to be the author who can write it all and update weekly and be amazing, trust me, I want to see this fic more than anyone, but the fact of the matter is that there are giant transitional gaps in what I've planned, literally multiple prequels I have to decide if I'm going to finish or scrap and how that will impact the future plot, and where the hell this odyssey will be heading once I pass into the sea of possibilities my mind dreamed up half a year ago.
If you would be so kind, I'd actually love to hear where you think this is going after this chapter! I've tried to weave in subtle foreshadowing for some things while leaving others entirely in the dark and I want to see how much people can pick up on. I'll try to make little prizes (requests of some kind) for anyone who either guesses close or inspires me for a smaller plot point to include. Sapphireswimming knows most of the major bumps because I bounce ideas off of her, but we haven't talked as much recently and I'm sure she can tell you I have the major drops but not all of the twists and turns.
Not going to leave an AN at the end because I've rambled WAY too much here, but thank you all for being incredibly kind in reviews and support here, and hope you enjoy the final installment (for now!) of The Deal.
Disclaimer: there is one line in this "Get to the point already!" "Which one? I've got three!" that came from a post on tumblr. I'd cite the OP, but it hasn't been on my dash in over four months. So if you know the url tell me and I'll update this, but if not be aware that it isn't mine.
Dipper could feel his grip on reality beginning to fade.
It wasn't entirely like falling asleep, with the knowledge that consciousness is fading as the whole world seems to dim. It was more like falling straight into a nightmare, with certain sensations fading in and out as if some demonic child inside the mind just realized they were tall enough to reach the light switch and discovered it had a dimmer. The growls and howls would come and go, sometimes in time with the visibility of the hellhounds moving tauntingly towards him to create an unholy crescendo, sometimes flickering out of tune with his senses in a way that made the boy all too aware that these threats should be invisible.
Some sensations were all too easily able to cut through the haze, overwhelming Dipper with their presence. For instance, the all too familiar neon gold glow and carefree nasal voice made the whole world seem out of focus by comparison.
"Well, well, well somebody's looking desperate!" This time the echo of Bill's words was stronger, not a reflection of an old memory but the real thing. The demon appeared from just at the edge of Dipper's peripheral vision, laughing as he circled the adult the same way he had ten years ago when Dipper was just a twelve year old boy who stuck his nose in too deep. Dipper would've turned around to follow the demon or turned his head, anything to show that he wasn't completely helpless under that glowing stare, but despite the adrenaline and nerves coursing through his body like a static shock the boy found his tense muscles too tired to move.
"Hey, Pine Tree! Long time no see!" Bill stopped and focused before appearing to smirk at the boy for a second before continuing on. "Well, for you at least. I've been keeping an eye on you," his one visible eye enlarged and glowed that hellish red it did whenever the normally dapper demon mentioned it, "and I must say kid, you look like hell!" The demon came to a stop in front of Dipper as he burst out laughing. Keeling over at his own joke Bill kicked himself back to rest in the air between Dipper and the hellhounds, wiping his eye and relaxing as if he was catching up with an old friend on a lounger.
"Heh, it's funny because you're going to Hell."
"Bill! What are you doing here?" Dipper's voice came out as raspy as his throat felt raw, which was saying something because his body was already on fire in a mock foreshadowing of what was to come. He could barely hear his voice, but the demon had no trouble understanding him as he seemed to glow at the attention.
"What? I can't come enjoy the show as I watch my favorite Pine Tree burn? I even brought s'mores!" He snapped his thin black fingers and a branch the size of his arm appeared in his grasp, two marshmallows resting perfectly on the end until the demon quickly waved his hand and the gag vanished again.
"I know you. You wouldn't just go away for ten years and reappear right now unless you want something." Dipper tried to keep his voice strong despite the strain, but he couldn't help but wince at the sound. He hadn't heard his voice crack that much since, well, since he was twelve in Gravity Falls.
Bill didn't seem to react to the obvious attempt at intimidation, looking down his planar face at Dipper as he still lounged in the air above him. "I've never really gone away kid, I already said I've been watching you-"
"-and you wouldn't bother leaving the Mindscape for this unless there was something you thought you could gain. What is it?" Dipper sent the harshest glare he could to the unblinking eye staring blankly down at him, trying to move his arms against the combined force of his shock, exhaustion, and whatever power the demon was exerting.
The demon seemed frozen with a lack of expression that Dipper couldn't help but define as contemplation, before it darted out of its relaxed position and flew right in front of Dipper's face. "I wouldn't keep struggling if I were you, Pine Tree. Even if you could move, even if you could scream, there are some… spectators… here who we wouldn't want to startle with sudden movement." Dipper unconsciously found his eyes darting around Bill trying to make out the black smoky hellhounds deeper in his vision, but found reality blending into too many shades of gray to be discernable beyond the golden burst of color that was the dream demon.
They stared at each other, two human eyes meeting a single demonic one, until Bill was apparently satisfied, as he flew away to approximately where he was before, chuckling as he went. "Ah, Pine Tree, I've missed these little conversations of ours! Always so adorably serious and trying to dig straight to the bottom of things!" Even through his paralysis Dipper managed to flinch at the demon pinching his now-thinned-with-adulthood cheeks. "Oh, I'll miss it without you here, with only the reverberating sounds of your endlessly tortured screams from the Pit for entertainment." A black and white handkerchief appeared in Bill's hand as he wiped away a comically large tear from his single eye as he turned away from Dipper in an act of modesty, his single feature clearly dancing with mirth behind the faux sadness as he saw Dipper pale at the mention of his fate. "Well, not that these last ten years haven't been boring without all the monster chases and heh, the pain is hilarious, but I'm sure you'll agree with me that you alive beats the alternative!
"I mean, if you're really so eager to get to the good part I can end this now and we can skip to when all of these little guys here tear into your flesh." Bill paused from where he was turned away from Dipper, clearly waiting for the boy to give him some kind of response.
It took a minute of glaring from Dipper before the former mystery hunter eventually ground out, "if you're expecting me to thank you for delaying for a few minutes the eternal damnation that you put me in you're not going to get it."
The response seemed to be exactly what the demon wanted, for Bill seemed particularly pleased as he turned around. "But Pine Tree, that's exactly what demons do! Not to mention that you were so eager to find out all of the secrets of the universe, you made it so easy! Well, now you know that there really is such thing as Hell. And guess what, kid: you're going there!"
Dipper tried to open his mouth to make another sarcastic comment but found even that unable to move, apparently Bill had a script in mind and didn't want Dipper changing it. Sensing the attempted action, the demon, literally glowing in anticipation, floating back over to his prey. "But I wouldn't be lying if I said I didn't have some regrets over dooming one of my favorite humans. I mean, I haven't been able to get a good night's sleep ever since we sealed the deal!" The laugh at his own joke was briefer this time as Bill quickly returned to his point, "and that's why I decided Pine Tree, you're much more entertaining to me alive then dead. I mean, never-ending torture on the rack gets kind of repetitive."
Dipper felt his heart instinctively flutter at the glimmer of hope. "What are you getting at Bill?"
Bill floated down in front of Dipper and held out his hand, suddenly burning with that blue fire that Dipper had been hallucinating in the corners of his vision ever since the howls started. "I'm willing to call all of this off and let you go back to being the lovably insufferable Pine Tree, all you have to do is make a deal!"
"You're crazy if you think I'll make another deal with you after you stole my body!"
"Shhh, kid, let's keep this between the two of us for now, if you know what I mean." The demon glanced back at the hellhounds again before turning to Dipper, his eye narrowing. "Here's the thing, Pine Tree. I'm just in sales. As soon as I make a deal, the contract's literally out of my hands. If I could give your soul back, I would. But there's red tape and all that jazz, not really my color if you know what I mean. So I went to the big boss and made him an offer he couldn't resist. You agree to the same deal he did, you go free."
Dipper scowled as he tried to figure out what kind of deal Bill was getting at. If there was another player involved, that could mean that Bill had rules he had to follow, rules Dipper could take advantage of. But on the other hand, a higher demon could be even more unpredictable than Bill, and that was a scary thought. Then again, if there was one thing Dipper knew about demon deals it was that you could never get the upper hand, and that was exactly what Hell wanted.
Still, it wasn't like Dipper could move away right now, and he was already jumping out of the fire and into the frying pan, literally. "What kind of deal are you looking for? Because if you think I'm letting whoever your boss is run around in my body, you're wrong."
Whatever he said apparently amused Bill, because the demon let out a bark of laughter which was quickly echoed by the hellhounds behind him, making Dipper jump in his skin. "Ah, don't worry so much Pine Tree, Crowley's already got another vessel that's much more tailored for him, if I would say so myself. Heh, I'm actually pretty proud of the deal I got lined up for you, kid, you even get to keep your soul for more than ten years this time. Apparently the sacrifice your immortal soul is a one per customer kind of fee, who would've guessed! You even get to keep possession of your body, well, most of it. All I need is an eye!"
"…My eye?" Seeing the odd expression on Dipper's face made Bill laugh again as he probed against the boy's open mind.
"Yeesh, kid, not in that sense! Though I must admit, depth perception would be deluxe. No, all I want to do is borrow it! You get to keep it in your head and everything!"
"Bill, just get to the point already!"
"Which one? I've got three!" And suddenly Bill had his signature cane out and was doing jazz hands… "But seriously kid, if you're that eager to get to the point, there's even more of them on those hellhounds' teeth!"
Then the humor switched off as suddenly as Dipper's blissful break from the howling as he was forcibly reminded that Bill literally had his soul in his hands. "You see, Pine Tree, despite being an all-powerful being of pure energy with no weaknesses, there are some things that even my one eye can't get a good look at. Powerful warding and spells to hide things away, kind of like in that journal." Seeing the sudden longing gaze Dipper was directing towards the journal sitting innocently out of reach Bill couldn't help but laugh. "Not that that ever helps once you make a deal!
"But man, how lucky am I that no one ever bothered to create wards against weak little noodle-armed humans! You see, all you have to do is help me with a couple of humans who've managed to get far enough on Crowley's bad side enough that just their location is worth more than your soul!"
"You really think I'm going to help you out after everything you've done to me? For all I know you're just going to find these people and kill them then drag me to Hell when you're done!"
Bill didn't seem phased by the having Dipper shove the loophole in his face, if anything (from what frustratingly little Dipper could read of that two-dimensional expression) the demon looked proud. "Aww, little Pine Tree picked up on the trick first thing off the bat. They grow up so fast! But don't worry kid, you got your good old pal Bill Cipher looking out for you! You see, if this was as simple as trying to track down the Winchesters, we'd be done right now! Because they're right here!"
Suddenly the yellow triangle backed away from where he was floating in front of Dipper's face, truly clearing the boy's vision for the first time since the demon started making his proposition. Blinking away the glowing spots in his vision (though after a few seconds of trying he belatedly realized that some of the swimming black blurs were actually hellhounds), the young hunter realized that he, Bill, and the hellhounds were no longer alone. Standing out in bursts of color as other minds do in the Dreamscape, sharing in the fantasy or not, were two men who for a second Dipper overlooked as human, really, who in their right mind wore that much plaid?
They also paled (in more ways than one) in comparison with the star of pink fuzz, brown hair, and red… blood… that was Mabel.
Dipper's eyes roved over his sister, frantically looking for any signs of injury that could've resulted in her bloodied form, not finding any on a first glance, then checking again and again until a voice in the back of his head hopefully pointed out that it might not be hers. Sure she was fighting, and she was strong, but she was his sister putting herself in danger for him and Dipper suddenly felt a ripple of fear that shook his whole body more than the thought of his own death ever had.
Because even if Mabel was not the one shedding blood, from the angle of the dark shape looming over her, and another one moving behind in her blind spot (everything was her blind spot because she wasn't meant to see them because she wasn't meant to get involved) Dipper could tell that soon Mabel would not be the one coming out on top.
All too quickly he could feel his vision being torn from his sister against his will, his eyes slowly rolling in his head as Bill forcibly dragged his vision away from Mabel and onto the intruders the demon wanted Dipper to see. The Winchesters, the part of Dipper that had been trained by years of study to remember the little names and details that could potential help solve a mystery piped up, but why would they matter so much…?
Until a glance at the shorter one's face sparked a burst of recognition and another blast of fear.
Sam and Dean Winchester. Mass murderers. Satanically obsessed. Had a penchant for young women, or at least the older one did, and a miraculous ability to somehow fake their own deaths. Most importantly, they were standing right behind Mabel with a sawn-off shotgun and one of the largest knives Dipper had ever seen glinting a reflection of grayscale and golden glow.
"Come on, kid. Your soul, free as a bird, and all you have to do is keep an eagle eye on two criminals who need to be watched. I thought this was what you wanted to do with your life! You don't even have to stay close to them, just track them from a distance and put those detective skills of yours to use." Dipper couldn't turn his head to see Bill resting above his shoulder, couldn't tear his eyes away from the blurry face of the murderer standing before his sister. Could barely make out anything other than the bloodlust on his clearly emotive face. For the first time since any of this began Dipper felt cold, a chill within his heart pressuring him to give in and freezing the distant roaring of hellfire and the tiny spark of conscience that told him that making a deal with a demon was wrong, that anything Bill wanted was wrong.
Saying that maybe the drowning voice that once roared that this proposition is bad was wrong.
But there was that light at the end of the tunnel again as Bill circled back in front of Dipper's vision, blocking his sister and his sacrifice with an outstretched hand and a damned salvation.
"I meant it when I said I planned all of this just for you, kid." His voice, although as grating and demonic as ever, was different than Dipper had ever heard before. The word softer first came to mind, and while nothing Bill said could ever lose his mischievous quality, it lack some of its normal malicious undertones. "I like you, Pine Tree, and it'd be a shame to watch you burn.
"Just as it'd be a shame to watch Shooting Star burn out, just because you prioritized two murderers' lives over hers."
The howling stopped. It had died down before, dimmed, but Dipper hadn't even realized how quiet silence was until the whole world seemed to freeze besides the soft floating of Bill's passive form.
There was a soft scratching, the sound of a clawed paw ripping through well-worn carpet.
"Oh well, good deal for me either way. I get to drag two souls to Hell for the price of one!"
And suddenly the force holding Dipper was broken. The exhaustion still remained, and the movement was pitiful, barely more than an inch, but Dipper curled his right fist, raised it just off the floor, and extended his hand.
"Fine. But Mabel stays out of it. Protected from you, from Hell, from everyone else! She stays safe, or I'll stop doing whatever spying it is you want me to do for you. Even if it means diving into Hell myself."
Bill's hand was there, bare and static and numb, sending pins and needles down Dipper's palm where they met, as if his hand had fallen asleep. Then came the flame, the fire that had got him into this mess and would pull him out, the one that no one survived and the very reason Dipper did. Bill didn't pull back this time, and uninterrupted the hellfire burned its way up his arm and across his entire body, disappearing as soon as it came without a trace. It had claimed Dipper once before, and recognized the boy as its own, but it wouldn't brand him until the time came.
After all, its biggest advantage in the boy was the element of surprise.
The burst of energy was like a cool caress, and for some reason the burst of light didn't blind Dipper's eyes as much as make them heavy. He could feel the presence lodging in his birthmark and his left eye, making his head fuzzy and his eyelids droopy with oncoming sleep. The tension in his nerves and muscles was now gone and without it there was nothing keeping Pine Tree from collapsing the last few inches onto his bedroom floor.
"Sweet dreams, Pine Tree. And remember to keep an eye on the Winchesters, just as I've been keeping an eye on you."
The dreamscape melted away, the gray seemingly evaporating into the air piece-by-piece, as one eye faded to blackness and the other brightened to color, each equally deep in a dream.
It was disorienting, at first, looking onto the scene below him from an outside view. He could clearly see his mangled body sleeping on the floor, surrounded by a half-ring of black dust and tangled in ripped sheets. He could see his sister rising from her prone position, wiping blood off of her face while immediately turning to him, running to his side and shaking his shoulders before looking over her shoulder and shouting something to the two Winchesters behind her, the taller equally bloody.
He couldn't even feel her hand.
The sound was fading in and out, and if he focused really hard he could concentrate enough to make out the conversation, but something told him this would get easier with practice. They were saying something about possibly returning and going somewhere safe, and telling Mabel to get everything both twins would need packed. The two men talked to themselves as she emotionlessly went about the room, and while Dipper wanted more than anything to focus on his sister and what he could do to keep her from acting so dead as she gathered the bare necessities, leaving artwork and sweaters and scrapbooks behind, Dipper found his hearing and other senses trapped between the two murderers, as if he wouldn't be aware at all if they weren't in the room.
The next time he bothered to focus Mabel was holding her packed art bag, now stuffed with a couple days' worth of clothing, and Dipper's favorite duffle with what he could assume was his travel gear. The older Winchester patted her on the shoulder as he walked by, grabbing the duffle out of her lifeless grip as she made her way over to Dipper's body. She hefted the backpack on her back and bent down to hold her brother but the taller Winchester beat her to it, easily picking up Dipper in his arms and making his way towards the apartment door. They made their way down the three flights of stairs as silent as a funeral procession, Mabel not even bothering to lock the door she had busted earlier in her haste.
Sam Winchester waited as Mabel slid into the backseat of the car, an old black Chevrolet, before passing Dipper onto her lap, the girl's grip quickly tightening as she hugged his sleeping form. A couple of door slams later and the car was off, the formless psychic sense of Dipper travelling with them.
Mabel hadn't looked back. She hadn't given a thought or glance to the apartment, the home, the life that the twins had left behind them. It wasn't like they had any roots besides each other. Even though neither would have imagined their ties to the world being cut in this way, when they graduated college and entered into a world of distance and individuality they had decided that everything was expendable in comparison to each other. They were twins, after all.
She didn't even glance at the road in front of her, the strangers taking them to whatever new place they would never be able to call home. She only looked at her brothers sleeping form and carded her finger through his hair. Half-formed rings of tears lined her eyes, her mask cracking for only the second time in the seeming eternity since the fight.
Dipper couldn't interact with the world; couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't smell or taste or do anything besides see and hear. But the boy never thought about it. It was as if his ghostly state was just a realistic dream: one where there's no question about what's happening until after waking up, and even then only a foreboding sense that's too distant to pinpoint. Dipper, however, had a feeling that he would recall every detail of this dream. In fact, he had a feeling he would remember every single one of these vision-like nightmares from now on.
But through the haze, the numb shadow that made up this comforting void of nonexistence, there was one sensation that shone through as bright as Bill had when making the deal. Dipper had seen (eyes only for his sister despite the one sense that followed the Winchesters wherever they went) Mabel stopping as she followed Sam out of the room, her eyes breaking that straight, dead stare they had ever since Dean pulled her from Dipper's side. She glanced down to her right, glare full of rage and hate and everything that wasn't Mabel as her emotional composition shattered and the shrapnel fired at the innocently bound book sitting stainless on the floor. With all the force she could muster, she slammed her foot into the polished golden seal on the cover, grinding against it the blood and ash and goofer dust that stained her shoes just as it had everything else in their lives strewn about the floor.
Mabel had purposefully left behind the book that was behind her brother's damnation. Venomously, if it was possible to commit an inaction in such a manner.
So then why could Dipper, through all of the dimensions separating him soul from his self, feel the familiar weight of the leather-bound Journal resting in his inside pocket?