"Gravity's a lie…"

Dipper stared around, breathing heavily. The world was blank around him, just like it had been when he had fell through the portal.

"And so is the sky…"

Dipper span his head, staring desperately in the whiteness to try and locate the voice.

He was cold, his skin numbing quickly. He began to shiver, the voice too familiar in his ears. It was a voice that had haunted him for years, the same one he had heard in his nightmares.

"Trust in the –"

Terrified, he began to run, weaving through the floating objects. He saw a shadow travelling across the ground, growing larger and larger under his feet. He ran faster.

" – all-seeing –"

He could sense something was following him, but didn't dare look back. The voice grew in volume, sounding more like an ear-splitting shriek.

" – all-knowing –"

He fell with a shout. Slowly, he looked up, eyes widening.

" – EYE!"

A blazing yellow eye was staring down at him, it's glow engulfing him entirely. Dipper screamed, scrambling backwards as it seemed to grow, laughing crazily. He became paralysed, unable to escape its haunting jeers. It was an eye that had stained his memory ever since he was twelve, he would never be able to forget.

"Time to go, come on!"

Dipper was startled awake at the yell. Sweat beaded at his brow, his body shaking with tremors. His hand snatched the pocket knife, pointing it out in front of him before he realised he was in no real danger.

He was in the room he had been last night, it's crumbling walls still closing him inside. No white voids.

No golden eyes.

With a sound of relief, Dipper ran a hand down his face.

"It's time to fill your end of the deal!" The voice, which he how identified as the bartender from yesterday, said. He flinched at the mention of "deal", memories still haunting him.

"That wasn't real." He told himself, standing up slowly. He grabbed his small group of belongings, shoving them in his pockets. "There's no way he's in my mind, remember..?"

He searched the room, spotting a mirror on the wall in the corner. He dashed over to it, hovering his face a few inches from the glass.

"He's gone. He's gone."

He pried back his eyelids, studying his pupils in the reflection. They were still rounded, to his relief.

"Come on! Two minutes!" The bartender yelled. Dipper jumped, turning his head to the door.

"Y-yeah!" He answered. He stepped away from the mirror hesitantly, shoving his hands in his pockets again.

His fingers searched for his medication, but found no bottles or pills. He let his shoulders slump, biting his lip.

The medication had helped his PTSD stay in check for years, keeping the worst nightmares and depressive thoughts out of his mind. It helped him no longer jump at the sight of a triangle, or jump every time someone laughed too loudly. He hadn't been without it for ages but now it was suddenly taken away from him.

"It's fine…it's fine…it's not for long…" Dipper muttered. He supposed that his lack of medication was what started the nightmare, because there was no way Bill was still alive, and out to get him.

Right?

Right.

Dipper exited the room quietly, pulling on his jacket. The bartender was already waiting.

"I'm gonna have to be quick because my shift starts soon. Are you still up for this?" They said. Dipper nodded immediately. "Good."

They began to walk down the darkened hallway in large strides. The bartender explained as they walked.

"Lately my mother passed away, and left her possessions to me only in her will, not my sisters." The bartender began, turning sharply. Dipper followed, listening. "But obviously one of my sisters didn't like that and stole her – and now my – most prized possession. A necklace." The bartender suddenly stopped. Dipper almost walked into them.

"I want it back." They finished. "And in return, you get the best weapon I have, a translator, and a source of information that will help you get home."

"How did you know –" Dipper began, but the bartender held up a hand to stop him from talking.

"A human doesn't belong here." They simply replied.

"So you want me to get this necklace. That's it?" Dipper clarified. He was surprised when the bartender shook their head, giving a small grin.

"She'd only come back for it unless she's fully dealt with, if you get what I'm saying." The bartender purred. Dipper froze, stiffening at the implication.

"You mean you want me to –"

"Yes. And I want to make sure that she's dead. No cheating." The bartender looked up at him. "Is there a problem?"

Dipper's body went cold.

"I –" Dipper stammered. "She's your sister…"

"I know." The bartender replied easily. "Are you doing this? Because I don't want to find out I gave you a room for free…"

Dipper continued to stare down at the bartender, his expression morphing from shock to disgust. Here he was, trying to desperately reach his sister again, and they were wanting to kill one of their own.

He shook his head, eyes narrowing.

"I'm not low enough to do that. Not ever." Dipper hissed. The bartender's eyes flashed with fury. "The answer is no."

Only now he remembered what Grunkle Ford had told him a few years after returning from the portal. He had asked about the people he met in the universes, whether they helped him. He recalled his dark answer.

"I tried, and they seemed to want to help me at first. But they always had ulterior motives, wanting me to carry out tasks that were unthinkable."

"I gave you a room, a great offer, and you back out last minute?" The bartender asked dangerously. They pulled out a pistol from under their blazer, making Dipper freeze.

"I won't do it." He firmly repeated. "I won't."

For a moment, both were still, the gun pointing directly at Dipper's chest.

Really, Dipper noted, this was the second time he had a gun pointed at him within the twenty-four hour period. One too many.

The bartender's finger twitched at the trigger as Dipper chose to act. He dropped down onto the ground as the gun fired. Too slow, he grunted as he felt the bullet scrape his arm. He didn't acknowledge the injury for a second, kicking the feet from under the bartender.

As the alien fell, he stumbled to his feet and dashed out of the hallway and into the open bar. He let out another yell as a bullet hit his ankle, sending him to the ground. Heads turned his way curiously, watching the action.

"I guess I'll have to find someone else then." The bartender said. Dipper felt the cold metal dig into his neck, making him tense. "It won't be hard to find someone else like you."

"But she needs me." Dipper whispered. The bartender paused in confusion at the words.

"What?"

Dipper took the hesitation as an advantage, twisting himself around and pulling the gun from the bartender's hand. Shoving the alien to the ground, he stumbled to his feet and pointed the weapon at their chest.

"Don't move." He said coldly, forcing his arms to not tremble. He felt the blood dripping down his foot, beginning to make a puddle at his feet. Watching the bartender freeze, he held the gun tighter. "Stay down!"

Adrenaline caught up with him, making his breaths come out in rapid huffs. He never liked violence to this extent, especially when he was the one causing it.

"I'm not doing that shit for you. You let me go, understand?" Dipper growled, aware that he had all the eyes of the bar staring at him. The bartender nodded shakily, raising their hands in defeat.

"Sure…" they replied, not taking their eyes from the weapon.

"Right – okay –" Dipper slowly backed out of the room, refusing to turn his back on the attacker. The bar had became silent, the only sound being the heavy thump of his shoes as he walked across the wooden floor. He kept the gun pointed at the bartender until he felt the door collide with his back.

With one last hard stare, he turned his back to open the door.

It only took a few seconds for him to regret the action, as a knife suddenly flew through the air and wedged itself in the door a few inches from his face.

"Fuck –" Dipper looked back quickly, seeing the bartender running towards him with another blade, previously concealed in their blazer. He cursed again, flinging open the door and dashing out into the street.

"I don't let traitors get away!" The bartender was hot on his heels, lunging towards him. Dipper didn't think, doing the only thing he could do to escape the danger in that moment.

Rifts and portals surrounded him. In an attempt to get away, he ran towards a pulsing one. He let panic take over his actions as he jumped through.

The angry yells of the bartender faded from his ears, colour swirling around him in a great cloud.

"What have I done?" Dipper muttered, but could not hear his own voice. He fell deeper into the new universe he had launched himself into, eyes widening.

The quick decision had flung him further from freedom, further from escaping the hell he had entered. He let out a frustrated scream as he collided with the ground, not bothering to look up at his new surroundings.

Blood steadily soaked his clothes as he lay on the ground, shutting his eyes.

"I'm sorry…" he slurred, feeling light-headed. "I'm so sorry Mabel…"

"You need a hand?"

Just as Dipper began to drift into unconsciousness, a voice pulled him from his dark thoughts. He looked up and saw a familiar hand reaching out to him.

Now that he was paying more attention, he noticed that wherever he had fell into seemed something like a rocky planet, no signs of life.

He focused back on the pink hand, giving a weak smile.

"Hank…" he muttered. The alien grinned, grabbing his wrist.

"Lucky I was around here." He pulled Dipper into his truck, slamming the door shut behind him. "This is the second time I've picked you up now, dude."

Dipper collapsed into the seat, leaning against the window. Thankfully, he noticed the car did run much smoother supposedly due to the new parts he had retrieved for him.

"Sorry…I still got no money…" Dipper murmured, closing an eye in fatigue. The dizziness had returned in full force. Probably a bad sign, but he just didn't have the willpower to care at that point. Instead, he watched as the car rose into space once more, leaving the colourless rocks and crevices behind him.

"It's all good, kid." Hank reassured with a laugh, "Those parts…they were worth much more than just one cab fare. They'll cover your cost this time too."

"Oh." Dipper muttered. "Good."

He closed his eyes again, resting his head against the cool glass. Hoping that the trucker wouldn't mind, he let himself pass out, Hank's rough voice fading from his ears.

For a moment, he swore he saw a yellow eye watching him.