Mabel was sitting on the living room floor, grooming Waddles with a thin-bristled hairbrush. The brunette's back was turned when Dipper walked over, although she took in a heavy breath when his footsteps echoed through the hall.

"Mabel?" the boy began tentatively, not sure if he should get much closer. Sisters on edge were very unpredictable. "Good morning. Is . . . um . . . How was the sleep-over?"

The girl turned around to meet his gaze, her expression not hostile, to Dipper's relief. "It was fun, bro-bro. Candy and Grenda left earlier today."

"Yeah? Did they?" he responded rather awkwardly. "That's . . . okay, I guess. Good." He was glad he didn't ruin things for them with Bill making them fall asleep and all, but he still felt bad about it. Summer was almost over and soon Mabel wouldn't be able to see her friends as often — perhaps not until they returned to Gravity Falls whenever their parents found it suitable. He had cost his sibling one more opportunity to enjoy her time. Or, half an opportunity, since they'd been doing things for a while.

Mabel perked up just then, releasing her pig to let it scamper about the room. "Whatever, Dipper. I wanna know something, though. How did you escape? We had a plan! And I don't remember talking to Grenda's new boyfriend before we fell asleep. What'd you do?"

"I . . . uh, you . . . Well," the tween coughed, absent-mindedly slipping his hand into his pocket to toy with the tooth Bill gave him.

His twin looked at Dipper suspiciously, her glossed lips pressed together in thought. It was easy to tell when she had an idea, eyes brightening suddenly. "Did you have someone else hypnotize us? Someone magical? I'll bet anything that you did, so there's no use hiding! Who was it?"

Her theory nearly startled him into spilling the beans, but he held back, thinking of any possible explanation other than Bill to fit the description. His sister was just too educated in the town's mysteries to trick with a simple "You were tired." excuse.

"Dipper. Dipper!"

"Fine! I'll tell you," he huffed, throwing up one of his arms to show his exasperation. If he were to keep Bill's secret then he'd have to make up a lie. And fast. "I found a bit of sleeping powder last time we were mystery hunting. I took the last bit of it to keep for emergencies. Thought that if you guys didn't know than I would be able to use it since there wasn't much. Had to . . . um, get out of that room somehow. I hope you don't mind."

She seemed to consider him for a moment. "Maybe, Dipping Sauce . . . Sure. I still think you need romantic advice, though! You're not getting out of that! I will find out who you're crushing on and I will help you get them to agree to a date! Have it on my word as the future president of the USA!" She declared the last part with conviction.

"You do know that being an official congressman doesn't mean you're going to become president, right? Plus, with all the new laws and stuff I don't think anyone out of Gravity Falls will listen to Trembly."

Mabel blew him a raspberry, frowning, "Don't ruin my fresh spirit! I've got a campaign all set up. It'll happen."

"Uh-huh," he responded disbelievingly, glancing back the way he came. "I'm going to go and get something to eat for breakfast. Later, Mabel."

She waved him off and he walked towards the kitchen, feeling accomplished. This lying thing is turning out much better than I expected. I just hope it doesn't backfire on me. Bill had best be glad.

That was good lying there, Pine Tree! Nice job. I know you feel bad, but this is for your new friend. Bill's voice returned as per usual.

Right, Dipper replied halfheartedly, though the mention of their friendship partnered with praise made him puff up slightly. He was prepared to carry out his side of the deal, no matter how many times he had to make up white lies. White lies. Even their newfound companionship wasn't enough for Dipper to risk his family's trust beyond a certain level. It just wouldn't happen. Opening the fridge, the tween grabbed himself a slice of bread and a Pitt Cola, seating himself at the dinner table. He took a bite of the cold toast, not bothering to warm it up. Bill, are you going to leave me for most of the day like you've been doing? I'm surprised you even tried to talk to me before I went to work in the gift shop. Do I need to be doing something else?

Well, other than deals and nightmares, I don't do much . . . that's why I talk to you so much. I'm bored, that's what the point of this deal is. You don't need to do anything unless you want to . . . though I thought it would be cool to try to take half control of your body. I like the taste of Pitt Cola, the demon said. It was quite random, but it was true.

You . . . uh . . . You're asking me to let you drink this for me? Dipper questioned hesitantly, looking down at the can in his hands. Since Bill saved him and Soos from the Ent, Dipper figured that the dream demon would ask for control sometime. And it would be better that that time be used for a harmless task like drinking soda than one that was more painful. I guess if you want to have a can, it wouldn't hurt. Just one soda, though. And you can't make a larger mess than I can clean up efficiently. Okay?

Okay! It's only half-control, which one, barely uses energy, and two, you could stop me if I were to do anything you didn't like. It would be interesting to do this more often, Bill mused before only taking half-control. One of Dipper's eyes glowed yellow and the other stayed his normal eye color.

Dipper knew it once Bill took over a part of him. The feeling was much different than when Bill was a presence or when Dipper was in the mindscape — now he felt like he was one with the dream demon. Thought processes were still his own, except merged with Bill's, all control and functions belonging to the both of them. This is strange and spectacular . . . the tween commented with wonder, hearing his voice in his head as if he were speaking, although the sound was edged with the triangle's influence.

Yes, I haven't done something like this in ages. Maybe a couple hundred years. Not many people in this world can trust me enough to almost fuse as one. You really must trust me, Pine Tree. The demon spoke to him, though it was louder and much clearer than before. Bill made sure to keep his really personal memories tucked away so the boy couldn't see them. When he did half-possessions both their minds had bonded so much they could practically read each other's thoughts, feelings and memories.

Dipper didn't know that, though, and was much too immersed in the sensation of sharing a body with Bill — not to mention he was afraid of what he might find if he delved into the triangle's secrets. And the truth was: He did trust Bill enough to know that he'd keep to his side of the deal even though they never shook on it. Another burst of warmth spread across his — their— chest. Dipper wanted to smile. Okay, Bill . . . You can do your thing. Don't get too messy if you can help it. Grunkle Stan would be suspicious.

Bill nodded for him and picked up the soda. The sensation was so much fun. He smiled as he looked at the can, as if studying it, before tipping back their head and gulping down the soda. Bill loved experiencing the taste of the soda along with the fizzy feeling it left on his tongue. He was sure the kid liked it too. He put the empty can down. "I love soda!" he cheered, the voice sounded like Dipper's instead of his own.

The boy laughed out loud, beaming. He could taste the remaining sweetness in his mouth. Pitt Cola's great, Dipper commented, happy that there wasn't much of the soft drink on his face to wipe away. And Bill didn't swallow the pitt. Joy bubbled up inside him, fiercer than before. Uh, Bill? he started, wanting to ask the dream demon something before Dipper regained full control.

Yes? Bill answered back, waiting for the kid to ask him the question.

I wanted to say that I . . . don't mind sharing my body with you. That was okay, the tween admitted. It actually felt kind of nice, in a twisted way. So . . . if you ever want to do something harmless through me and keep to your word then we could do it more often. I think . . . being with you feels better than having you in my mind, anyway.

Okay. Well I just wanted to taste soda again, but I wouldn't mind sharing for a while longer. You can control until I see something I want to do. Plus, this way we could both do chores at once and with my strength you would work faster. Bill told him, smiling through Dipper's lips. This was fun.

You'd help me with those? the boy perked up in slight astonishment. Really?

Yeah, sure. Though I don't have much experience being a human of course, Bill replied.

Doesn't mean you can't learn, Dipper offered. You're getting a human body of your own soon anyway. Practice will be good. Standing up and walking over to the trashcan, the brunet tossed out the empty can, satisfied with the current state of the table. He could hear Mabel as she left the living room, yelling to either Soos or Wendy. The Mystery Shack's gift shop was about to open. Hey, I think it's about time to get to work. Are you going to stay today? Maybe?

Sure. I'll stay. I can learn and help you. Bill said, quite excited to learn more about humans.

Dipper beamed. Awesome. Hurrying to the gift shop, the boy pushed the employee door open, revealing the empty store seconds before opening time. Soos stood readied at the entrance, watching the clock with concentration and prepared to take on the first load of customers. Mabel was sitting at the counter with Waddles, trying to converse with Wendy. Dipper strode towards the back corner of the shop, knocking on Grunkle Stan's office door to alert the man that he'd be working again. He just hoped Mabel's friends didn't ruin the room too much when they were stuck in there or Stan would lower Dipper's pay by at least a quarter's worth. When you earned minimum-minimum-wage, that was saying a lot.

Stan opened the door, staring at Dipper. "Yes?" he asked him, before noticing the eye. "Dipper . . . is it just me or are your eyes two different colors?" The old man blinked, the yellow and the brown still there. He was unsure if he was losing his mind and imaging things or not.

Wha—Oh no, I forgot about what happens whenever Bill's in my body! Dipper froze, unsure of what to do to get rid of the physical evidence that the dream demon was there. Thinking quickly, he stammered out, "I-I uh . . . must've gotten something in my eye this morning . . . I think . . ." Bowing his head, Dipper pretended to rub at them, making sure to act convincing. His mind was screeching at the other half of himself, willing Bill's control to fade to only a presence.

Oh . . . heh, sorry, kid. Forgot about the whole yellow eye thing. Bill quickly receded out of Dipper's body, staying in his mind until the kid was done talking to Stan.

"Okay," Stan nodded. "Was there something you needed?" He blinked again. Dipper's eye had returned to normal.

Dipper blinked as well, looking at Stan. "Other than to tell you that I'll be working extra, no, not really," he explained. "Trying to stock up on cash, you know?"

Stan nodded, "Alright, kid. Have fun! Less work for me and more money." He grinned and dismissed Dipper.

Yeah, yeah . . . Whatever. The tween headed back into the shop, finding that customers were already spilling in. A girl and her mom were talking quietly by one of the shelves. A couple joked around near an attraction. Mabel was trying to flirt with an unsuspecting boy that was petting Waddles. Dipper took it all in with a breath of stress. Here goes another day of backbreaking work . . . He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Whenever Stan made him work, he worked. And whenever Dipper tried to get paid for that work . . . things got about five-million times more painful. The brunet forced a "mandatory" smile when a man walked by, the other only casting a sideways glance. Dipper dropped it after the visitor passed, turning his attention towards the heavy stacks of boxes that needed to be unloaded and their contents placed neatly on the shelves. There were more there at the moment than been the day before. He tried to stay positive, making conversation with Bill to take his mind off the task as he grappled in lifting the first. Curse his noodle arms. So, Bill, I wonder . . . Have you ever had to work before? I know you're kinda . . . magical in the mindscape, but were there any points where you weren't so independent? I'm curious.

Well, not really. Unless you call my work is manipulating people, making deals, and destroying people's lives. Making people go insane is a lot of fun too. McGucket is so insane it's funny! The triangle's laughter echoed in the kid's mind. Other than that, I mostly watch, observe humans, and laugh at how dumb they are!

Dipper made a face, a trickle of fear edging its way into the back of his mind. He had almost forgotten Bill's evil intentions in all of the happy companionship he'd received over the past few days. Do you . . . um . . .the boy started, hauling the first box over the others to place on the floor. Do you go do those things whenever you're not in my mind? He had actually wanted to ask if Bill thought he was dumb, but the dream demon already said that he appreciated the tween's intellectual ability, a reason he didn't bring it up.

You bet! Bill said cheerfully. It's my job, kid. The whole reason I exist. Watching is cool since I have eyes in many places. Like the window, or the rug in the gift shop.

Dipper shivered, trying not to think about it while he stocked a half-full shelf. He held a silence, unsure of what to say. It felt like a one-way conversation, awkward and slightly unnerving on Dipper's part.

Heads up, kid. I'm going to take half-control again, Bill warned him as he did so.

Dipper, in the middle of handling a glass figurine of a monster, nearly dropped the thing when Bill merged into his consciousness again. It was unexpected, the sensation of being part of the dream demon overwhelming his earlier unease and rendering the outside world suddenly not important. He managed to set down the object without breaking it, however. Bill . . . Dipper's mind murmured, although his instant disinterest in his work diverted his protests. What do you want to do?

I was just bored, wanted to help, remember. I got to practice acting like one of you meatsacks. Bill told the kid, using his control to look around the gift shop.

Okay . . . Just don't get caught. Dipper allowed Bill to become dominant, receding without protest. He was surprisingly calm about the situation and trusted the triangle to actually be useful.

I won't, he promised. Anyway, I'm supposed to move these boxes for Stanl—Stanford, right? Bill managed to correct the name, hoping the kid wouldn't catch on.

We need to unload the boxes and restock the shelves, yeah, he responded, seemingly taking no note of Bill's slipup of words. The boy was too caught up with the other things on his mind to question it. The hard part is getting the boxes and making sure that whatever's inside doesn't break. I shattered a snow-globe the other day and Grunkle Stan threatened to never pay me again. So be careful alright?

Yeah, yeah. Got it. Bill took control of Dipper's limbs, willing them to move. He picked up the boxes carefully and moved them closer to the shelves, before ripping open the box.

Dipper helped by keeping his hands somewhat steady. Bill really was doing a good job. You must be extra bored today, the tween mused, aiding the dream demon in placing a couple of cheaply-made souvenirs on a shelf.

Yeah, I guess. The demon was focused on the job, rather than talking to the kid. His own thoughts filtered into Dipper's head. No wonder why humans hate this, it's boring. All this work for stupid money that's completely worthless. When the apocalypse—Bill blocked the rest from Dipper, a bit worried he revealed too much.

The twelve year-old blinked, frowning. Um . . . Thank you for helping, but you don't have to do this if you don't want to, he offered to take the full impact of the labor, as he'd done for the past couple of days. And what do you keep trying to hide? That last thought wasn't supposed to get through. It did.

Nah, I told you, I need to learn how to do human things, even if they are pointless, Bill responded. As for your question, I'm hiding something for your own good. Dangerous things are coming. Remember my warning.

The memory flashed vividly, one that Dipper had a hard time pushing away. Bill had been a true villain back then . . . if he wasn't still one now. How could he be sure he was telling the truth? Because Bill says so . . . he is. And that was that. Bill was quiet after that, his thoughts blocked from Dipper. He focused on the work he was doing.

Dipper didn't mind, keeping up the pace for quite a while. Time slipped by. Eventually, he heard Soos announcing the start of break-time-break-dancing, a tradition he had begun with Mabel. "Oh, we should — I should get going," Dipper said, pausing in his portion of his work. What are you going to do, Bill?

I'll just leave, go do more 'business', Bill said, before disappearing out of Dipper's mind altogether.

He tried not to be disappointed by the triangle's absence, blinking a few times to get himself oriented again. Afterwards, leaving the boxes where they were, Dipper headed off to meet the others in the front of the shop.

"Mabel, hit the music!" Soos was grinning when the boy got there. Loud pop music began playing moments after, that of which Dipper didn't want to admit he liked.

"Come on and dance, Dipper!" his sister cheered, hurriedly striking poses with Waddles in her arms. Soos joined in rather dramatically. Dipper only watched, laughing and absently tapping his foot to the beat.

Wendy walked towards them, seeing her friends dancing along to the beat of the pop music. "Hey, guys! Mind if i join your little party?" She smiled at Dipper and Soos.

The handyman waved a hand at her, inviting the redhead. "Dance like you've never danced before, dawg!"

The boy chuckled softly, wondering if he should participate in their game. "Hiya', Wendy. How was the work day?" Dipper started instead, talking over the booming music.

"Good. I mostly just sat there at the cashier as usual." Wendy shrugged, smiling at them. She then started to dance and laugh.

The brunet dipped his head. "Working the stocks is a pain. My arms are already killing me and the day's only halfway through." He rubbed at his right arm, which was starting to get more sore.

Wendy nodded in understanding. "Yeah. Though you should probably work on getting your noodle arms up to strength," She teased.

Dipper made a face, the self-conscious response he'd normally have replaced with amusement. "Anyway . . ." the boy changed the subject, fishing for the cash in his pocket and taking part of it out. "Here's the money I owed you. Thanks for letting me borrow. I think I'll be able to earn enough on my own now."

Wendy took the money and smiled. "Thanks, Dipper. You can borrow more at any time if you need too." The teen stuffed the cash in her back pocket and continued to jam out to the beat of the music.

Good to know, the tween mused, starting to tap his foot. Wendy smiled and danced a little bit. Beside her, Soos and Mabel seemed to be having the time of their lives. By the end of the song, Dipper was beginning to join in. The brunet was beaming, moving along with his friends and sister. However degrading it might be to be partying to girly pop music in the middle of a work day, he was actually having fun.

Stan heard the loud music and went out to investigate what was going on. Wendy, Soos, Dipper and Mabel were all dancing during their break. "Kids! Time's up. Get back to work!" Stan yelled over the music.

"Aw! Boo!" Mabel whined, turning off the radio. Soos made a face.

"I guess I'd better start loading shelves again," Dipper muttered, out of the mood. "That was fun while it lasted."

"Sorry kids, back to work now." Stan told them and walked into his office.

"Why does Grunkle Stan have to be such a party pooper?" Mabel frowned good-naturedly, hugging Waddles to her chest.

"The world is a sad place, dudes," the male employee answered, taking off his hat dramatically to place over his chest, head bowed. The man then broke into a grin, straightening his posture and making for the front door. "Later!"

Mabel waved him off, sitting on the counter. She started eyeing the male customers again, contemplating. Dipper left her to it.

Saying goodbye to Wendy, he headed back towards the box that Bill had helped with before. The thing contained a couple more objects that he had to unload. The brunet sat on the floor beside it. His mind immediately reached out to the demonic presence sitting near his mind. You there?

Bill, who was sitting watching outside of Dipper's mind, heard the boy's thoughts. He went back into the kid's head and answered him. Yeah. I was just watching. Though, I do get bored of watching sometimes.

The all-seeing eye, bored of watching, the boy smirked, finding it ironic. What's next? I bet Grunkle Stan will get sick of money. Or Mabel will quit being boy-crazy. Now amused, the twelve year-old set a trinket on the shelf, chuckling quietly.

All I know is things will change, and soon too. The demon repeated that line again, warning of a future event that was yet to take place.

Dipper frowned, finding the ominous line a bit uncalled-for and out of place in response to his teasing. He did his best to shrug the lingering feeling off. Are you . . . wanting to help me again? Anything special?

Sure, I could help you. It's always fun to have a puppet! The triangle sounded happy and cheerful. No puppet strings can hold me down, so patiently I watch this town, Bill started to recite some sort of prophecy or riddle.

Dipper grimaced, the dream demon's peculiar mood unsettling the boy. I'm not your puppet, Bill, the kid clarified. Possessing me is a privilege; we discussed this. He paused. And what's with all the creepy side comments?

Get used to it, kid. I like to say creepy things, it's just who I am! Plus puppets are fun. So are pawns. Hey, Pine Tree, wanna play a game of chess tonight? Bill asked him excitedly. The triangle hadn't played a good game of chess in a very long time.

Uh, I guess . . . the boy answered, biting his lip with a shrug. So . . . about my job?

Oh right. I'll help you. Bill once again slipped into the boy's consciousness, half-possessing him once again.

Despite the eerie mood, Dipper reveled in the sensation of Bill merging into him. He somehow liked feeling the dream demon's consciousness as closely as he did, his perky attitude and clever wits making the boy excited. It was strange, to say the least. T-thank you, Bill, the tween smiled. Let's get done fast.

Okay! Bill used Dipper's arms to stock the shelves again. Although this is boring . . . I guess we could talk while we work. Ask me any question within reason and I'll answer truthfully.

Any question? Dipper beamed, shocked beyond his pleasure. Wow, wow . . . There's so much to ask . . . You must know so much! Who's the Author? Where does this town get its mysteries? What do the symbols in the journal mean? Are you interested in Gravity Falls for a reason? How do you talk to girls?

Woah, slow down, Pine Tree, Bill chuckled, amused by the kid's curiosity. I'll answer one question. Only one, so choose wisely.

Dipper lightly bit the inside of his — their — cheek, contemplatively going over his options while they worked. He would have liked to know all of those things and more. How could he pick one and be satisfied? It's like that mailbox all over again . . . He couldn't mess this opportunity up. Finally deciding on something that he probably couldn't find out on his own, the tween asked, Bill, do you really care about me? Anticipation overwhelmed him. The question had been bugging him since the deal. He needed to know.

Bill was slient for a considerable amount of time, thinking about it. His thoughts couldn't be heard by Dipper. He made sure of that. The demon part of him screamed no, he didn't care. A pawn. A puppet. A game piece. Yet deep down, in darkest depths of what humans called a heart, Bill knew that was lie. Yes, the demon might be using the boy, but he cared, he actually cared. He couldn't hurt his Pine Tree, ever, even if he wanted to. Finally, the demon answered, Yes. I care about you, Pine Tree. He became silent again, trying to deny what he just said.

Dipper was quiet as well, his emotions in turmoil. A feeling like love spread through him, bringing with it relief and happiness at the same time. He decided that the risk of asking was worth it. The boy now knew for sure. Bill cared. He did. I . . . I'm sorry for being so rude and inconsiderate all those times, he apologized, the words knowingly heartfelt. I really can trust you. I'm glad I met you, Bill.

The words from the boy seemed to snap Bill out of it. It's okay. I'm a demon, it's only natural for you as a human to act like that sometimes. He paused slightly. Anyway, it looks like we just finished unpacking the boxes for today! Time goes by fast when you're having fun. Bill changed the subject, acting as he normally did.

Dipper blinked, looking around. There was no way they could have finished. But when he glanced at the shelves, they were full, all the boxes in the back empty. He blinked again. What? Wow, how did we . . . get done so quickly? That should have taken at least a couple more hours.

Magic, kid, Bill joked around. Nah, just kidding. It was me. You were so busy thinking of the perfect question you didn't realize what I was doing or how much time had passed.

Dipper facepalmed. How he could lose sense of his surroundings so utterly was a mystery on its own. Or maybe he was just that dull. I can't believe I made you do all that work on your own. Are you alright with it? Can I make it up to you?

No. I'm fine. I can multitask better than any human so talking to you and working hard is easy, he told him. Anyway, I'm done helping you now. Bill slipped back into Dipper's head, letting the boy have all the control back.

The brunet shivered, feeling the loss immediately. A cold quiet settled over his mind, alone apart from Bill's probing presence. He already missed sharing himself with the dream demon, a realization he hurriedly shoved away. And he hadn't expected Bill to decline an offer for a free favor, either. Thanks, but are you sure? You did so much.

Well, if I do need anything simple, I guess you can help. But for now, you're fine. Bill reassured.

Dipper let that end the issue, but he still wondered what motivated him to work without ample gratification. Maybe . . . it was because of friendship. They were firends now, after all. Heading away from the shelf and empty boxes, Dipper stopped at the counter, which was just checking out the last of the Shack's customers for the day. "How was work?" the brunet asked Wendy casually, listening to the cashing of the register. He'd still have to get his day's pay from Stan.

"Fine. I didn't have to do much so I finished my latest issue of my favorite magazine." Wendy smiled at the boy, placing her finished magazine down on the counter.

He nodded in response, hearing as the final shopper left the Shack. Soos gave Mabel a thumbs-up.

"I'm out of here, dudes! Tell Stan I said bye!" the handyman made for the door.

"Later, Soos," Dipper replied.

"See you tomorrow, Wendy!" his twin giggled, holding her pet. "Say bye-bye, Waddles! Bye-bye!" The pig oinked.

"Bye!" Wendy smiled and waved to the twins as she followed Soos out the door and to her

house.

Dipper took in a breath, the room silent except for his sister and the pig. Which wasn't saying much, but he decided to go with that. Leaving Mabel to go and play around in the living space, the tween went into his great uncle's office to collect his earnings.

Stan turned around when the door to his office opened. He spotted Dipper and knew what the kid was here for. Money. Stan was grateful for the big help he was, so he handed Dipper the money.

Thanking him, Dipper stashed the cash away in his vest pocket and left the man to do his thing. I wonder if I should go out into town really fast . . . I have enough to get something, the boy mused, pondering once he was in the gift shop again.

Get what? More ingredients? I would say you're fine for now, unless you want to get it done and over with. I really don't care what you choose. Bill voiced his opinion.

The brunet sighed gratefully. Okay, that's good. I'll just hang around here, then. He entered the living room, where Mabel was watching TV. She smiled at her brother.

"What's up, Dipper?" the tween giggled. "Done saving up money to buy stuff for your girlfriend?"

"No!" Dipper blurted, flustered, catching his words too late. "I-I mean — it's not for —"

"Girlfriend! Girlfriend!" she singsonged, grin mocking.

Tugging on his bangs in frustration, the boy escaped up the stairs, blushing furiously at the lingering echoes of his sister's teasing. He closed himself off in their bedroom, flopping down on his bed to get ahold of himself. He felt like his entire being was on fire. "Stupid puberty," he hissed out bitterly, clearing his mind the best he could and closing his eyes. He thought about Bill and their meeting to rid himself of his emotional chaos but the feelings didn't go away. In fact, a weird part of him told him that it was stronger. It was the last thought he had before his consciousness finally slipped away, the caressing hold of sleep encompassing him.