Thank you to ImpossibleJedi4, Whiteling, Energy witch, DarknessLegends, BILL CIPHER, Berrybanana05, BakuganNerd52, Christina730, and Guest for your reviews.
As a warning, there is drug usage in this chapter.
The twins were due in town the following day. Only two weeks had passed since they last saw them, although not on the best conditions. They were able to comfort each other in difficult times, and then the teens were allowed the chance to see an important part of their grunkles' past.
Bill and Wendy manned the shop while Soos was outside mowing the grass. At least with the twins in town for the entire summer their chore load would be lessened. Ford already mentioned that he intended a surprise for the first weekend making the demon wish he still had the ability to read minds.
With school out Wendy was expected to work full time. Bill glanced over at his colleague to see her seated at the stool. Instead of reading a magazine, or texting her friends, or scrolling face book she stared down at the counter.
"Hey, Red, everything okay?" Bill asked.
The teenager only sighed in response.
"I thought you'd be happy with Pinetree and Shooting Star on their way back," Bill tried again.
The girl shrugged. She knew she should be happy to see her friends again, but she just couldn't-Mabel was one thing, but there was no way she could face Dipper.
Wendy grasped at the counter. She grabbed her cellphone and announced she needed to make an important phone call. Bill agreed to watch the counter while she ran off suddenly for the second time that morning.
The door opened to reveal a sweaty Soos. He wiped at his forehead with a small towel then grabbed a cold water from the fridge. Bill pulled out two popsicles then handed one to Soos. The two sat out on the porch consuming their sweet treats in the noon humidity. Thus far they had only had two large tour groups combined with a few regulars from town to visit the shop.
The town was a peaceful place. The scent of freshly cut grass surrounded the shack. For a moment the weather decided to grant mercy and let the cool wind gently blow across the property. The wind danced through Bill's loose curls. Soos closed his eyes to take in the temporary comfort of such a sultry day.
Bill's smile fell into a frown as he suddenly remembered that the peace wouldn't last for much longer. To think he had been the one who had been the cause of such chaos the year before. Now he couldn't understand why he wanted destruction-just something else to blame on the bond. Bill glanced down at his pinky finger and cursed Ford for forcing humanity onto him.
However it would not be long until Kryptos returned, and he planned to destroy Bill and everyone he loved. This time Kryptos had the advantage of knowing both him, and the skills of the Pines family who would fight back.
Blue liquid dripped over Bill's fingers. He wiped the juice on his pants, but the sticky residue remained on his fingers.
"You okay, dawg?" Soos asked then licked falling juice from the side of the red popsicle.
"It's almost been a year," Bill answered. He dropped the empty stick on the porch, already anticipating the scolding he'd later receive from Stan for the blue droplets that stained the entrance to the gift shop.
Soos waited for Bill to finish his thought which he never did. A year since his failure, since he was forced to submit to Ford's conditions in exchange for his life. While there had been struggles, life hadn't been too bad. He made friends and he had Ford, both of which he honestly knew he didn't deserve.
Bill moved his fingers to remind him of the sticky popsicle juice on his fingers. He announced to Soos that he'd be back after he washed the aversive substance from his hands.
Bill pushed open the bathroom door to see Wendy sitting on the floor with her back against the wall. Her cheeks were wet with fresh tears. Her phone lie screen down on the bathroom floor two feet away from the crying teenager. The small area reeked of vomit.
She ceased sobbing upon noticing another presence in the room. Green eyes already filled with anger and frustration directed themselves at their new target.
"Don't you know how to knock, you asshole?" Wendy snapped.
Bill backed up. He closed the door then opted to wash his hands in the kitchen sink. Thirty seconds of scrubbing then rinse under warm water as Ford instructed him-the best way to kill germs. He snatched two sheets of paper towel then headed back to the gift shop.
He momentarily stopped at the bathroom door and contemplated knocking. He stopped himself and pushed the urge away; Wendy would not talk until she felt ready. At the very least he considered she'd feel better once Mabel and Dipper arrived the following morning.
The hour on the clock read ten minutes until four. Tate was due home in an hour, which gave him that much time to work on his newest invention.
Fiddleford backed away from the prototype. If everything went according to plan, the metal headband would reverse the effects of his memory gun, which would help him regain the moments he wanted most to forget.
Even more it might help Bill recall some of his memories that were blocked by the bond. When he told Ford about the machine, he begged that it be ready before June. Fiddleford assured him that wasn't possible, but he promised to try and have it ready the middle of the month. All he needed now was a willing test subject-and who better than himself.
At first he didn't hear the knocking. The second time he figured he was once again suffering from side effects of prolonged use of the memory gun. The third knock sounded like someone about ready to ram his door. Fiddleford placed the headband back on its holders then hopped to the front door.
"Can I help you?" Fiddleford asked as he greeted yet another stranger.
Ever since his inventions made him an overnight millionaire, people from every charity and organization in the state flocked to his doorstep. Even worse numerous women were suddenly interested in dating his son. The constant attention from other women caused Rachel to break up with him. He hated thinking how once again he possibly ruined Tate's life.
"Fiddleford McGucket?" the woman asked. Fiddleford nodded and she invited herself inside. The old man followed after and beckoned for her to take a seat in the small living room.
"I can make ya some tea," Fiddleford offered.
"Thank you for the kind offer, but no," she said and crossed her legs. "I'm here on official business, and won't take up much of your time."
McGucket hopped on one of the chairs. Thus far her conversation hadn't been that different from the others trying to swindle money from him.
"My name is Dr. Caroline Avery, I am with social services, and I have some questions about your colleagues: Stanford Pines and Bill Cipher," she stated.
"Go on," Fiddleford said. A few days ago Ford telephoned him to warn about that very same social worker. He confessed the lie he and Bill made up about working for McGucket to which he agreed to go along with.
"Mr. Pines said to me that he works with you, is that correct?" Caroline asked.
"Absolutely, one of the best werkers I ever met," Fiddleford answered.
"Is it true you two used to work together back in the late seventies, early eighties?" Avery inquired.
"Sure did," Fiddleford responded, although it pulled at his stomach how she found that bit of information out. What more he wondered what his work with Ford had to do with social services.
"So it's safe to say you know your colleague fairly well?" the doctor asked.
"We've been friends for a long time."
"How would you describe his temperament?"
"Good. Rarely gets angry." Fiddleford adjusted himself in the chair. "Act'ly I used a have anixety real bad, and Stanford tried a showed me some techniques ta help."
"Tried?" Caroline asked. She wiggled her foot over her knee. "So it didn't help?"
"No," Fiddleford answered.
Caroline adjusted her glasses. She placed the notebook and pen down on the sidetable. "Tell me, Mr. McGucket," she said and folded her hands atop her knee all the while her foot shook. "What did you have to be so nervous about?"
"Don't know," Fiddleford said. "Guess some people are."
"Were you working towards a deadline?" Caroline probed.
"Can't 'member, it's all fuzzy," Fiddleford said and scratched at the bald spot atop his head. "My mem'ries not what it used a be, I'm afraid."
Avery frowned, but was not going to let the excuse of an aged memory stop her. "Was it something to do with what you were researching that caused your anxiety?" she asked.
"Can't say."
Avery placed both feet on the floor then clamped her hands around her kneecaps. "There's no record of you ever seeking medical attention for your disorder," she stated. "If your anxiety was as bad as you say, then why wouldn't you see a doctor?" Fiddleford went quiet. "Couldn't afford it?" She grinned. "Or something you couldn't confess even to a professional?"
Fiddleford stayed quiet.
"It's a shame what happened to you, Mr. McGucket," Caroline said with a hum. "I heard throughout town how something in the eighties cost you your sanity for a good amount of time." She leaned in close to the inventor's face. "I wonder...what could be so terrifying, so shocking, so traumatizing to cause that kind of damage?"
"That's personal," Fiddleford replied after a short pause. He narrowed his eyes. Caroline frowned, it hadn't been the answer she expected. The old man continued, "Besides, what's any a this gotta do with Stanford?"
Caroline was taken aback. From what she heard around town from those who knew Fiddleford McGucket, she had not expected him to take offense of any kind.
"Mr. McGucket, please," she tried.
"No, you said you had questions 'bout Stanford and Bill, but you seem more concerned 'bout my mental wellfare," Fiddleford answered. "If ya must know, I don't 'member much after my divorce, and it wasn't 'til me and Tate recently reconciled that he got me the help I needed."
Caroline seethed. She took a deep breath and reminded herself why she sought out the elderly man in the first place.
"You are correct, Mr. McGucket, I apologize," Caroline said. She pushed the frames of her glasses against her face. "I shouldn't have asked you. I mainly want to know what kind of work you do?"
The question baffled Fiddleford, but he still answered. "I'm an engineer." For someone who sure knew a good deal about him it didn't make sense she seemed to not know of his recent success.
"And is your work dangerous?" Avery asked.
"Kinda, I could get hurt if I ain't careful."
"Is that how Bill acquired his injuries?" Avery asked.
Fiddleford hesitated. Ford had not told him the entire story surrounding Bill's case. What more he wasn't sure if she was trying to mislead him with a false testament. The doctor's foot shook at an alarming rate confident that she caught him in a lie.
"It was an accident," he said, hoping he made the correct decision. He watched Caroline's grin fade, and he continued, "He wasn't careful and he got hurt."
"I see," Caroline said. She picked up her notebook then tucked the pen in the bun in the back of her head. Fiddleford stood beside her. She stared at the engineer. "May I take a look at the laboratory?"
"Sorry, I ain't gonna let ya see my unfinished werk," Fiddleford said.
"Mr. McGucket this can be imperative to my case," Caroline protested. "You'll be helping Bill."
"How can I be sure ya ain't gonna leak my invention?" Fiddleford retorted. "You wanna see it, then ya gotta get yerself a proper warrant."
Caroline Avery sighed. She had hoped McGucket would provide her with the next clue she needed, but once again Ford proved to have loyal allies.
"Thank you for your time, Mr. McGucket," Avery said. She slipped him a business card. "If there's anything more you wish to share with me, give me a call."
With that she made her exit from the McGucket residence. Fiddleford watched her leave from his window. Fortunately Tate had not come home in the middle of the interrogation.
In his slightly soiled hand Fiddleford held the starch white card. He threw the paper into his mouth and chewed it until it was a saturated ball then spit it back into his hand where it was discarded in the kitchen trashcan. He then plucked the phone off the wall to dial the number to the Mystery Shack.
The shack closed at five. Soos turned the sign then locked the door. It had been an average day, but with the first of June coming the next morning, business would sure build up. What more the twins were due to arrive around eleven in the morning.
Bill descended the stairs having dressed the beds for Dipper and Mabel's return. A year ago he never would have been eager to see the children he now considered family. He never would understand why Mabel chose to forgive him so quickly, nor why he was so willing to accept her offer of friendship.
Wendy threw on her coat, despite it being warm enough not to need one. She glanced over in Bill's direction to find him staring. She sighed and slowly approached him.
"Look, I didn't mean to get so defensive before," she said. "I'm just mad at Robbie."
Bill nodded, although the look in his eyes showed he was not yet satisfied.
"Is that all?" he asked.
Wendy narrowed her eyes. "Even if there is, it's none of your business," she replied.
"Fair enough," Bill responded. He turned and picked up a broom to begin sweeping up the gift shop.
Footsteps pounded up the stairs. A heavy fist rapped at the door. With pursed lips Soos glanced out the window. Upon recognizing the faces he unlocked the door to allow the other teenagers inside.
"Wendy, you coming?" Lee called. In his hands he held a tin pan covered with aluminum foil. "Tambry's parents are outta town, so we're gonna have a little party."
"Cipherbomb, you should totally come," Nate added from where he stood in the doorway.
"Not tonight, you guys," Wendy replied.
Lee frowned. He placed the pan down on the counter next to the cash register. "Come on, Wendy, you never turn down a chance to turn up."
The blond teen put a hand on his friend's shoulder only for her to roughly shake him away. Lee backed up, but the look on his face appeared more concerned than afraid. Robbie had told him that she'd been acting crazy lately.
"I can't go either," Bill said with a sigh. "Sixer needs me for something."
"Ugh, lame," Lee complained.
"Yeah, he is," Bill replied with a laugh.
Ford requested that Bill and Stan join him in the living room after closing so that they could go over their story just incase Avery poked her nose in their business once again. Also if any other authorities decided to ask questions they would all have the same story.
"Is Robbie going to be there?" Wendy asked.
"He's invited," Nate replied. Under his breath he muttered his hopes that Robbie not show up lest he unintentionally hurt Tambry again.
"Is he coming?" Wendy asked with more force. The other two boys exchanged glances, but didn't say anything. "I need to talk to him in person."
"He seemed interested," Lee said. He looked over at Nate who only shrugged in response.
Wendy considered her options. She shoved her hands into her coat pocket and stomped out of the door. Thus far Robbie either ignored her calls, or they resulted in an argument whenever they did talk. If there was any chance he'd be present, she also would be there.
Lee and Nate followed after her. Soos watched Wendy hop into the passenger seat of Nate's vehicle. Lee made an exaggerated gesture of how he wanted to ride shotgun, but climbed into the backseat nonetheless.
Bill propped the broom up against the counter. The sweet aroma surrounded that pan. He lifted the aluminum foil to discover the delicious dessert underneath. Bill looked back over to where Soos had locked the door. Nate had long since drove away.
He decided he wouldn't consume them all, but at the very least a scrumptious brownie deserved to be eaten while fresh. Figuring that both Stan and Ford would want one, Bill carried the pan into the living room where they planned to have their meeting.
After closing up the shop Soos said farewell to Bill who waved him off from the porch. The following morning he planned to arrive an hour before the younger set of twins were due to arrive. Once Soos left Bill's view he walked back inside the gift shop and locked the door behind him.
By the time Bill walked into the living room where Stan and Susan were already present. Stan had made plans with his fiancee when Ford called the family meeting, but he decided that Susan might as well know the details. She didn't exactly know what Bill was, but had figured out he wasn't a normal human being.
Stan ordered a pizza over the phone while Bill sat down across from Lazy Susan. The conman hung up then sat at his spot that was marked by his already opened soda can. Stan cut a piece of brownie for himself then handed another to Susan. Bill grinned as he accepted a plate of the dessert. He figured he should feel some kind of remorse, but it would only serve as a lesson to the teenager.
"I'll try to keep this brief," Ford began. "The reason I called this meeting is McGucket called me earlier. Apparently Avery questioned him this afternoon."
"Does that hussy ever rest?" Stan asked with a mouthful of brownie.
"Hmm, this sure tastes odd," Susan commented, but continued to eat.
"What would she want with Fiddlebucket?" Bill asked and took another bite of his brownie.
"Apparently asking about your accident in the lab," Ford answered. "I already contacted Dr. Boyd and asked him to fax me over a report of all your recent medical history." Ford opened the folder on the table. He handed it first to Bill and would allow everyone to look it over. "Memorize it well, we'll need to fabricate our story based on these details, and anything else you might have told her."
"You don't think Fiddleford told her somethin' she had no business knowin'?" Stan asked then gulped down the rest of his soda.
"I don't think so," Ford answered. "He caught on that something was off about her." He used his fork to cut off a piece of his brownie then impaled the chocolate dessert with the prongs. "She kept asking him irrelevant questions relating to our past." He placed the sweet back on the plate, not really in the mood for dessert.
"That Fiddleford is an odd man, but a smart one," Stan commented.
Ford read over the document once more to compare it with the story he had written down on the paper. Over the next fifteen minutes he shared it with the rest of the group. Susan almost fell asleep, and Stan audibly displayed his boredom with sighs and loud yawns. Ford chose to ignore him and continued on.
Bill suddenly felt relaxed. He folded his arms then rested his head over top, while still looking in Ford's direction. The author frowned, but Bill only gave him a smile.
"I'll also share this with the kids," Ford said having finished his task. "So they won't accidentally give out information we don't want anyone else to know."
Bill laughed. "Oh, oh, like how you helped an-an evil entity into your world?"
Ford jerked his head in his boyfriend's direction. Bill laughed harder and pounded his fist on the table.
"Oh, that's rich," Stan replied with a hearty laugh.
"Richer than you'll ever be!" Bill exclaimed and pointed at Stan in an exaggerated manner.
Both Bill and Stan guffawed at that comment. Bill fell from his chair and laid in a lump on the floor shaking with laughter. Susan laughed at Bill's dramatics. She snorted which caused the three of them to laugh harder.
"What the hell is wrong with all of you?" Ford asked.
"Oh!" Bill cried. He hung onto the seat of his chair with one hand while still on the floor on his knees. With his other hand he pointed at Ford. "You said a bad word!"
"Wash your mouth out with soap, Poindexter!" Stan ordered. He hurried over to the sink where a half empty bottle of handsoap sat. Throughout the exchange Susan only laughed.
Again Bill laid sprawled out on the floor with his arm over his belly while he laughed.
That was when Ford noticed the empty plates with brownie crumbs in each of their settings. He dropped his fork and stood up quickly.
Stan walked over with a glass filled with soapy water. Ford accepted the cup then placed it on the table. Thankfully Stan had forgotten the reason for bringing it over in the first place.
Bill sat up cross-legged with one hand on each knee. "Y'know what this place needs, Stanno?" he said. "Eyebats. Fill this place with them." He threw his arms up in the air. "Then they can petrify anyone who refuses to pay."
Stan turned a chair around and sat down. He leaned over the back. "That's a good idea, Cipher." He ruffled Bill's hair.
"And-and-and," Bill said. He chuckled then leaned back against the chair. "How about a nightmare tunnel. I can design it. Then you-you let your tourists walk through and it shows them their worst nightmares."
"Bill, you should stop talking," Ford ordered.
"Can it, Poindexter," Stan snapped. He smiled at Bill. "This guy's a genius."
"That's why they called me the brains of the operation," Bill boasted. "To think that copycat Kryptos thinks he can do anything." He slapped his leg as he laughed. "When that joker shows up he won't be able to do anything as creative as I could."
"Joker...now that's an idea," Stan replied. "We can dress up like clowns."
"Yes! He won't be expecting that," Bill responded. He snapped his fingers and the doctor's report caught on fire.
Ford grabbed a cloth from the stove and smacked the papers until the flames vanquished. The top paper had become mostly ashes, while the three beneath suffered damage, but only one had been rendered useless. He managed to salvage the rest.
He jumped at the sound of knocking on the front door. Ford froze and prayed that it was not Caroline Avery who stood on their doorstep as he had nothing that could explain the chaos in the living room. The guest knocked a second time.
Ford snatched the tin pan and threw the entire thing in the kitchen trash can before slowly making his way to the front of the shack. He glanced out the window to see the pizza man with his case in hand. Ford answered the door and paid the man with a twenty he happened to have in his pocket.
The author shut the door with his foot then made his way back to the living room where Bill and Stan discussed yet another highly illegal attraction. Susan had fallen asleep at the table.
"Pizza!" Bill screamed.
Both Bill and Stan rushed for the food. Ford placed the boxes on the table and moved out of their way. Susan woke up for two seconds then rested her head back on the table. Ford helped the woman to her feet and led her over to the vacant recliner. Susan laid down and fell back into slumber while Ford draped a knitted blanket over her.
Ford sighed at the two chowing down on pizza. He decided to wait around until the other two also passed out. He helped Stan to his room and considered to let Bill stay where he slept on the carpet. He picked up the skinny blond and threw him over his shoulder.
Bill was laid in his bed. Ford remembered having to do something similar that time Bill had drank himself drunk. He pushed a few stray curls from his forehead then left the room. If he ever saw those teenagers again he'd be sure to give them a much needed tongue lashing.
From what he could tell no major damage had been done. He collected the dishes and decided to sweep the crumbs from the carpet. Only fourteen hours left until the twins were expected in town.
Dipper and Mabel will be in the next chapter.
As for the part there at the end, over the past few months I had three requests (Little Red, Ella Le Hissy, Energy witch) to write a scene where Bill gets high off of pot brownies. I researched the effects of ingesting marijuana and tried to keep the information I found on a few websites in my mind while writing that scene, so I hope it comes across as accurate.