"OH NO, IT'S BILL!"

The ten members of the zodiac gaped in disbelief as the dream demon rose up to the triangular window, twirling his cane like he was part of a circus act. Mabel grabbed for Dipper's hand in fear. He clasped hers firmly and squeezed it, looking at her and whispering, "We'll get out of this, I promise."

Mabel nodded shakily, biting her lip.

"RIGHT? ISN'T THAT WHAT YOU WERE ALL THINKING? HEY GIDEON, WHY AREN'T YOU DANCING? CHOP CHOP HUH?" Bill pointed at the fake psychic and laughed. "OH, THIS IS JUST TOO PERFECT. DIDN'T YOU BRAINIACS KNOW THAT THE ZODIAC DOESN'T WORK IF YOU DON'T ALL HOLD HANDS?"

Stan and Ford shared a worried glance, each silently kicking themselves for ruining their only chance.

"AND WHAT'S BETTER, YOU'VE BROUGHT EVERY THREAT TO MY POWER TOGETHER IN ONE EASY TO DESTROY CIRCLE!" As Bill spoke, he let a burst of flame out of his hands, lighting the flammable paint of the zodiac alight. Dipper and Mabel jumped back, whilst Pacifica and Robbie screamed and patted their burning hair. The flames formed into red ropes that wrapped around Stan and Ford, pulling them up to Bill's height. "YOU GUYS WANNA SEE WHAT HAPPENS TO YOUR FRIENDS WHEN YOU CAN'T GET ALONG?"

"Hey!" McGucket shouted. "You give them back!"

"You've gone too far Cipher!"

"Yeah!—" Wendy pointed at the demon—"We're not scared of you!" She produced her axe, the blade whistling through the air. McGucket also produced a banjo for… reasons.

"OH, BUT YOU SHOULD BE," Bill said, snapping his fingers. In an instant, all the members of the zodiac that weren't Pines lifted up into the air, their eyes yellow and slitted. Mabel didn't let go of Dipper's hand, and finally squeezed it back. "YOU KNOW, THIS CASTLE COULD REALLY USE SOME DECORATION!"

Wendy, Soos, McGucket, Pacifica, Gideon and Robbie morphed into bright red tapestries, each one displaying their screaming faces.

"LOOKS LIKE IT'S TOO LATE FOR YOUR FRIENDS STANFORD," Bill yelled as a pyramid cage rose up from the floor, incasing Dipper and Mabel. "BUT YOU CAN STILL SAVE YOUR FAMILY!"

"Kids!" Stan yelled, desperately struggling in his ropes.

"LAST CHANCE. TELL ME HOW TO TAKE WEIRDMAGEDDON GLOBAL AND I'LL SPARE THE KIDS!"

Dipper reached his hand out of the cage, shouting, "No! Don't do it!"

"Yeah, Bill makes bad deals!"

Bill whipped around, furrowing his brow. "DON'T YOU TOY WITH ME, SHOOTING STAR. I. SEE. EVERYTHI – OW!" he screamed, clutching his eye. "NOT AGAIN, WHY, EVERY TIME?!"

"Nice shot pumpkin!" Stan yelled, the ropes holding him and Ford hostage unfurling as Bill lost focus.

"I JUST REGENERATED THAT EYE!"

"I know that hurts," Mabel said, proudly holding the can of spray paint in the air. "Because I've accidentally done it to myself. Multiple times!"

Ford wasn't sure if he should be proud or concerned.

With newly inspired confidence, Dipper pulled the crystal flashlight out of his vest and pointed it at the cage, turning it on. When nothing happened, he flicked the switch a few times, before realising with horror that the crystal had shattered when he'd landed in the Fearamid.

He looked at Mabel for a second, fear crossing both their faces. "Save yourselves!" he shouted, shoving the torch into his backpack.

Ford didn't want to leave them behind, but he knew that it was their only option now. Bill wouldn't torture them if he wasn't there (Ford + kids = bad, but Ford & kids – Ford = lesser evil). He mouthed the word 'sorry' to Dipper and grabbed Stan.\

"What are you doing!?" the conman yelled. "Ford, we have to save the kids!"

"I'm sorry Stanley, but this is the only way," Ford said, not letting go of his twin's hand. "We'll come back for you!" he yelled to the twins, before running off with a shell-shocked Stan in tail.

That was the last time Ford had spoken to Dipper since it had happened.

He never should've left; there had to have been another way.

But deep down, he knew that there wasn't. He glanced over at Mabel and rubbed her back sympathetically. She hadn't said a word since Dipper had blacked out. It was like watching a sitcom without the laughing track; it felt wrong, like an essential piece of the puzzle had been taken away. Ford had never seen her go this long without talking – she hadn't even smiled.

And he didn't blame her.

"Mr Pines?"

Ford looked up at. The doctor and forced a fake smile onto his face. She was a tall, thin woman with dark skin and unruly black hair that was pulled back into a tight bun.

"Y-Yes?" he choked out, still sore from Bill's 'aggressive negotiations' (that was what he called torture).

"I'm Dr Rambeau, Mason's doctor. You can see him now."

It took a moment for Ford to fully register who she was talking about; he wasn't used to people calling Dipper by his real name. Mabel finally smiled, and Stan just looked confused.

"Mason?" he chuckled. "Who the hell's – ohhhhh. I got it, I got it now."

Doctor Rambeau lead them through a maze of identical, pristine corridors, past many rooms of those who were injured during Weirdmageddon. The hospital had managed to get set up only a few hours after it had ended. With the amount of people hurt or dead, they had to. They entered a room marked '618' and looked around, eventually spotting Dipper laying on a bed to the right side of the room. He looked so small and feeble in the covers, his breaths barely audible. An IV poked out from the back of his palm, breathing tubes wrapping around his face and going up his nose. His forehead was bandaged up tightly, as was his abdomen. The bags around his eyes were bigger than ever, more prominent due to how pale his skin was.

Mabel choked back a sob and ran over to him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it.

No response.

A heart monitor beeped in the background, and from what Ford could tell, it seemed like Dipper was stable. He turned to Doctor Rambeau as Stan went over to comfort Mabel and gulped.

"How is he?" he asked, his voice still hoarse. "Why did he black out?"

Rambeau smiled slightly and laid a comforting hand on Ford's shoulder. "He's alive," she assured him. "He blacked out due to blood loss. There's a cut on his stomach and a gash on his forehead, as well as some sort of weird tattoo."

"Oh, that's just a birthmark," Ford clarified. "Nothing to write home about."

"An odd one at that," Rambeau smirked. "We stitched up the cuts as well." She glanced at her notepad for a second, before turning her gaze back to Ford. "You said he was slurring his words and shaking, correct?"

"Yes," Ford said. "Why?"

Rambeau sighed and bit her lip. "Well, you also said in the form that the memory ray used on him caused brain damage to others in the past."

"Yeah, but only after consistent use."

"I'm afraid you may be incorrect," Rambeau gulped. "We did a scan and discovered that he has sustained damage to his frontal lobe."

"Damage to the – no," Ford spluttered. "That's not possible."

"And so is erasing someone's memories, yet here we are."

"H-How bad is it?"

The corners of Rambeau's mouth twitched into a tiny smirk. "I would explain it in medical terms, but that probably wouldn't be ideal."

"Explain it to me like I'm a child," Ford said, gesturing with his hands. "Like I'm a foreign child."

"It's not incredibly severe," the doctor lamented. "But it's also not comparable to a bump on the head. He may have problems with things like talking or his short-term memory. He may also have lesser control over his motor functions – hence the shaking, so tasks like writing or tying shoelaces might become next to impossible for him to to do alone.

Now, Ford knew for sure that it should've been him. Dipper was far too young to make a sacrifice like that, especially when he didn't even know the full extent of the consequences. He had his whole life ahead of him and now – because of his mistakes – it would be a struggle.

"There is some good news," Rambeau said, snapping him out of his trance. "Brains generally can't regenerate cells, but because his is still developing, it may be able to form new connections to replace the damaged ones. That could take years though."

Ford nodded shakily, biting his lip. He walked over to Stan and tapped his shoulder, motioning for him to come over.

"The memory gun had an unintended side effect," he whispered, trying his best to make sure that Mabel couldn't hear.

"Whaddaya mean?" Stan asked, cautiously pessimistic.

"Dipper has suffered damage to his – actually, you won't know what that is. Long story short, the memory gun caused brains damage."

"Brain damage? 'Ya mean like that injury that makes 'ya stupid?"

"Stanley," Ford seethed. "Quiet. And no, that's not what it does."

After explaining the mechanics to Stan, Ford set his sights on Mabel. Gently, he told her everything, making sure to remind her that Dipper will still be just as smart as he was before , he'll just have some difficulty with basic tasks. She'd cried her eyes out, continually mumbling about how it was all her fault, so it should've been her. Ford tried to bring her some comfort by reminding her that it wouldn't have worked, but to no avail.

Twenty minutes later, Mabel somberly walked back into the waiting room and caught Soos' eye. Wendy was sitting next to him, anxiously chewing her hair.

"Mabel," she said, rushing over to her friend and hugging her. "Soos told me what happened, is Dipper alright?"

Mabel leaned over and mumbled something in Wendy's ear, which prompted her to gasp and hug her tighter, barely keeping her composure. She had some rudimentary knowledge on the subject of Dipper's injury, so she explained it to Soos as best she could. The Stan twins walked around the corner, and Wendy glared at them in a fit of rage. She let go of Mabel and gently pushed her over to Soos, before storming over to the Stans.

"This is all your fault!" she yelled, earning looks of surprise from the waiting room's various other inhabitants. "You could've settled your family feud later, but no, you just had to do it right as we were about to win. You both should've known better, and because of your fuckups, Dipper had to pay the price. I hope you two work things out, not because you deserve to – because you certainly fucking don't, but for the sole reason that putting it in the past will make it easier for you two to help the twins."

Wendy whipped around and rubbed tears out of her eyes, before storming off, motioning for Mabel and Soos to come too.

Neither Stan nor Ford could or would deny what she said as they stood in the lobby, alone and defeated.

Forty minutes later, after Stan had went to the toilet to avoid talking to Ford to three times, they had reached the point where they were ready to talk. Neither of the two wanted to, but they knew that it had to be done.

"I-" they said in unison, before chuckling slightly. "No, you go first." After a short silence, Stan broke the tension.

"I'm sorry Ford," he muttered. "This is all my fault. If I hadn't flipped out back in the Fearamid none of this woulda happened."

"No, it was me," Ford interjected. "I had been bitter for no good reason ever since I got back, you every right to lose the rag." He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "Look Stanley, the reason I was so horrible to you was because I was pissed off. I still felt like you'd ruined my life, both with the science fair project and the portal. I never stopped to think about the circumstances of the fair, or that you dedicated thirty years of your life to get me back. I thought you risked to much to save me."

"Ford, as far as I was concerned back then, a world without you in it wasn't worth much to me."

"What?"

"That's why I did it," Stan said. "I didn't have much left to lose, and by the time the kids came along, I was too far along to quit. All I cared about was fixing my mistake."

"Don't blame yourself, " Ford said. "If any one person is responsible, it's Bill."

"I'm glad that Dipper got a chance to take his frustrations out on that pointy jerk personally." Stan pulled his glasses off and wiped them on his jacket, before returning them to his face. "He hasn't been actin' like himself since that damn puppet show."

That last sentence stuck a chord with Ford. He knew how Dipper had reacted to getting possessed, but the problem was that he didn't know what Dipper had been like before it happened, so he didn't know what he was like normally. He'd only known Dipper for a few weeks, but it certainly felt a lot longer than that.

Wendy sighed as she walked through the hospital aimlessly, like a lost soul looking for it's body. She couldn't quite wrap her head around the fact that Dipper was essentially dead, at least for the time being. When he woke up, he wouldn't know who she was, who any of the were. Even if he did somehow get his memories back, it wasn't like he'd be perfectly fine afterwards. He'd already had to deal with the trauma that came with being possessed, so she could only assume that he'd react similarly to Weirdmageddon. As she walked, she noticed a vending machine and decided that she should probably eat something. Before she got the chance to even think about what she wanted, she heard the sound of choked sobs coming from behind it. She glanced around the edge of the machine, spotting Mabel curled up in the foetal position, her sweater pulled over her knees and it's neck over her face. She opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it. Instead, she got to her knees and sat next to Mabel, rubbing her back lightly.

Mabel looked up to see who it was, her eyes red and puffy. When she realised that it was Wendy, she pulled her sweater back up over her face and leaned on her friend's shoulder.

"I guess asking if you're okay would be kind pointless, huh?" Wendy said, trying her best to lighten the mood.

Mabel nodded slightly, before mumbling something incoherent. Wendy reached over and gently pulled her turtleneck down, prompting her to repeat herself.

"We barely even got a proper goodbye…"

Wendy sighed, wrapping her arm around Mabel. "Goodbyes suck anyway. They just end up making you even more sad than you already are."

"It still would've been nice to have had a proper one though…" Mabel muttered. "I guess we kinda got one, but I just kinda stood there and cried while he told me how much he loved me."

Wendy paused for a second, unsure of what to say to such a statement. "I'm sure he meant it," she said, not able to think of anything better. "And I also know that he wouldn't regret doing it if it meant saving you."

"I know."

The blinding light drilled into Dipper's eyes as he looked around, taking in his surroundings. He was standing in a glassy black plane, the sky above just as dark. The light was coming from above, but it was weak.

"No."

He whipped around, finding himself faced with a shadowy figure. It was about his height with long hair, but the light wasn't strong enough to make out any features. The figure moved towards him and spoke again.

"No," it repeated. "Th-this is my fault. I-It should be me." It's voice was distorted, but strangely familiar.

The figure moved towards him and hugged him tightly.

He struggled to make sense of it all as he tumbled further and further into unconsciousness.