"Oh, I just don't understand why Billy's not healing!" The twins listened to their mother in the kitchen. "He's been resting up, we've been feeding him well, and he hasn't been stressing his injuries, so why is he getting worse? And has he been looking thin to you?"

Their father grunted. "Yep, I'd say so. Do you think he needs a higher calorie diet?"

"Maybe. Or maybe he just doesn't like what I've been cooking- I should ask what his favorite food is. Maybe if I make it more often, he'll put some meat on his poor little bones!"

Mabel giggled to herself. She knew why Bill was so thin. He'd hardly eaten a thing since his injury. She and Wendy had casually slipped some false information to him by having a conversation and pretending not to know that he was listening in.

"Boy, I hope Bill keeps eating- he'll never get better if he keeps stuffing his face!"

"Yeah- Digestion will take so much energy, his wound will just get worse and worse. Who knows; maybe we'll get lucky and we'll just eat until he succumbs to infection!"

And so thus began his fast. He hadn't trusted food to begin with, anyway- at first, he thought it was some strange human ritual to cleans their bodies of sin. The sin would become a physical manifestation, coded "poop" and nobody ever really talked about it because they were ashamed of their sins. Well, Bill wanted to keep his sin. But then he had to eat because he needed to blend in. Then, he figured out that if he used food for it's better use- crying into it and then flushing it down the toilet so it looked like he was eating- things went much more smoothly.

Now, he was bony, pale, unwashed, emaciated, stuck hobbling around because he refused a wheelchair (who sits on anything with wheels? too suspicious and human for him!), and his wounds were getting worse. He was in a miserable mood all the time- Mabel doubted he'd last much longer.

"Mom! Dad! We're leaving for the bus stop now!"

Their parents stopped fretting for a moment.

"Oh- yes. Goodbye, kids! Have a good day at school!"

"We love you, kids!"

The twins stepped outside and found Bill hunched over on the porch swing, panting heavily. Moving with broken ribs exhausted him.

"You want some help getting to the bus stop?" Mabel offered sweetly.

"Piss of, I'll walk myself!" Bill swatted her hand away, wincing at the pain it caused him. "Stupid kid..." He muttered.

Mabel shrugged, watching him stagger up the street in front of them. Her and Dipper had adjusted to scraping him off the sidewalk whenever he fell.

A few people stood waiting for the bus, making small talk with their friends, but for the most part people kept quiet and just stared up the street. The bus was running late.

"Sooo...How're your ribs doing?" Dipper asked, trying to break the awkwardness.

"Fine," Bill hissed, clutching his sides.

The bus was approaching.

"Are you sure? It looks like you're in pain. It's been a few weeks- aren't your broken ribs feeling any better?"

Bill saw his opportunity. He seized Dipper's arm. "You tell me when you're this far along in the healing process!" The demon shoved Dipper into the street, right in to oncoming traffic.

"Dipper!"

Mabel leaped into the road and grabbed her brother, looking up just in time to see the bumper and shield him with her shoulder.

The two children sailed through the air for a couple feet, Mabel keeping a surprisingly good hold on Dipper and managing to keep him on top so she took the worst impact from the street. It tore right through part of her sweater, ripping open her back and leaving an agonizing road rash. Her shoulder screamed where the ca had hit her. The collision hadn't been high-speed, but it was enough to do some damage. Mabel wasn't crying crocodile tears this time.

"Oh my gosh- Mabel!" Dipper dragged his twin back to the sidewalk. Traffic stopped and the driver of the vehicle frantically checked on Mabel as he called an ambulance.

"I'm so sorry- I didn't even see you two until it was too late!"

"It's not your fault," Mabel whimpered, giving Bill the evil eye through her tears. She was going to be out of commission for a while. She had to contact Wendy.

The ambulance drove them to the hospital, where their parents waited impatiently to check on their babies.

"Oh, thank goodness you're safe! How did this happen? Why were both of you in the street?"

"Bill pushed me!" Dipper told them, waving his arms frantically, "He pushed me in the street and Mabel jumped in front to protect me."

Their mother covered her mouth. "Oh, Dipper, that's a terrible accusation. Are you sure he pushed you? He didn't just bump in to you?"

"Yes!"

"It had to have been and accident. I need to hear Bill's side."

"WHAT?!"

"Just let it go, Dipper," Mabel told him through grit teeth, "Ask Wendy if she can babysit me tomorrow."

Dipper nodded. "Do you want me to stay home, too? I don't need to go to the DDMD club meeting."

"No, no- not unless you're hurt, too."

"The doctor said it was just a few scrapes." Dipper looked down guiltily. "I'm sorry, Mabel."

"Don't worry about it, Bro-bro. I was the one who jumped into the street. It's not your fault."

Her brother nodded, but his eyes betrayed him. He still felt responsible somehow.

Mabel hoped he'd perk up soon- she wanted him to be in a light mood to enjoy the revenge she was plotting against Bill for this. Trying to hurt Dipper was the last straw. Bill had sealed his own fate- Mabel and Wendy were going to obliterate every shred of hope Bill had. Grind it to dust, throw it in his eye, and then spit on the dust.

Bill didn't know the true meaning of Hell. Not yet. Mabel had plans to fix that.