Dawn of the third day home from the hospital and the house was already a wreck. Dipper and Pacifica seemed to always be on the move between taking care of the baby and Dipper's college courses. Hours of homework mixed with a newborn baby was a recipe for disaster, but still Dipper was the happiest he'd been in years. He would never have it any other way.

Atlantica was swaddled in his lap while he sat on the dining room floor waiting for Pacifica to finish making breakfast. One arm was cradling her while the other hasted away writing down answers to his paranormal science homework. A smile, sweet with contentment, rested upon his face as he talked to his daughter, explaining otherworldly forces and dimensional differences and about the escargice-cream he almost ate as a kid - stuff he hoped to one day teach her about that she might be better than he was with the supernatural.

Seeing this rare spectacle made Pacifica's heart flutter.

"Wow, Dipper, you're good with her!" she praised, resting her head in her hands from where she was standing at the counter.

"Aha, thanks," he replied, "You know multitasking with schoolwork and a baby is a lot harder than I thought it would be."

"Yeah?" she smiled.

"But I like it! It's kind of nice to have my mind this busy."

"You seem a lot happier, that's for sure," she pointed out, gesturing to the smile on his face and then turning to flip the pancakes that were sizzling on the griddle. Dipper blushed.

"I feel happier."

The pair continued exchanging small talk until breakfast was ready. Once the table was set, Dipper passed the newborn off to his wife and sat down adjacent to her. Pacifica drew the curtains next the table and the golden rays washed over both girls like a radiant glow.

Awestruck, Dipper gazed unto her while she set Atlantica up to breastfeed. He grinned lazily, circling his finger around the rim of his glass.

"You look so beautiful," he said in a dreamy breath that made the woman's cheeks colour over in pink.

Between bites of their breakfast Dipper stuffed his backpack full to bursting with textbooks, notes, and worksheets for his college class that day. Pacifica scolded him more than once about talking with his mouth full, but he learned the hard way when some of it fell out of his mouth and into his bag, staining his homework with syrupy mush. He flushed red as a beet and didn't say another word until he was at the door, bag draped over his shoulder and kissing his girls goodbye. One small pancake hung out of his mouth as he hadn't had the time to finish before needing to leave.

The walk to school was pretty peaceful. They didn't live far enough away that they would need to drive, it was about a ten minute walk between destinations. But he couldn't stop from smiling, keeping the image of his family in mind as he walked. The sky seemed brighter, the sun was warmer, the birds sang more cheerfully; all up until he saw a pair of identical twins playing in the front yard of a house he passed.

Two boys outside roughhousing, playing cops and robbers, making silly faces at each other - he thought back to Mabel's visit the previous night. After all this time he finally made up with her, a 'fight' that didn't even need to happen all because he refused to tell her about him and Bill. It made him sick to his stomach. Eventually the boys became wary of his locked stare and shouted out to him that he was a weirdo. Snapped back into reality, Dipper quickly apologized and moved along.

After he was past the house, he slowed his walk to a listless stroll. Chills ran over his body, ice flowed through his veins; a ghost hovered at his side, the ghost of what was once his sister's rightful place next to him. He missed her voice and her company, and the way she always made that silly face whenever they had a test that day at school. He couldn't hold back a tiny laugh; that face with the scrunched up nose and crossed eyes and the bleating noise that always accompanied it. His hand clenched and unclenched at his side, missing the warmth of Mabel's hand.

He looked up to the sky where the sun was shining bright overhead. And he stared... and stared and stared. Then he stopped walking. The sun was looking back at him, he could swear it. Putting a hand over his eyes, he squinted into the light and noticed a thin black sliver in the center of it.

When he looked away, all his surroundings were grey.

And suddenly that empty space in his palm was filled.

He jumped in his skin, nearly falling over into the street when he glanced beside him and saw Bill hovering there with a firm grip on his hand.

"Bill!" he shrieked, clutching his chest and taking rapid breaths.

"Relax, kid, it's just-" Bill put a finger to his eye and made a puppy face, "lil' ol' me!"

"Dude, I-I'm trying to get to school, what do you want?"

"I was getting a crazy amount of distress signals coming from you. You wanted someone to hold hands, so here I am!" he sing-songed, gripping the other's hand tighter.

"Not y-" he hesitated and cleared his throat, "I was missing my sister."

Bill's body flashed a brilliant light and suddenly he was in the shape of Mabel, twirling his hair in his fingers and grinning wide enough to blind someone.

"If that's what you want, Pines, I can be anything you want!" Dipper immediately jerked his hand out of Bill's grasp and brushed it off on his pants.

"Please, please don't do that." Bill pouted again, leaning into Dipper's face and whimpering, and Dipper leaned back grimacing. Much to his relief, however, Bill laughed and returned to his default form. He moved to hover in front of the young man's face.

"So you miss Shooting Star. Seems to me like you could use a friend!" Bill drawled the last word out in that creepy way he does that reminded Dipper of the time he lost his body to him. His flesh goose-bumped, body shuddering at the way Bill's voice had all the comfort of nails on a blackboard.

"Uh," Dipper choked, "I-I think I'll be fine, thanks."

"C'mon, Pine Tree," Bill returned, coiling an arm around the other's shoulder and squeezing him tighter, "let bygones be bygones. We're friends now!" The demon settled himself down on the chainlink fence of the house they had paused in front of. He reclined back, crossing his arms behind his head and kicking one leg over the other. "Let's rap." Dipper rolled his eyes.

"Bill, I don't think you understand. We can't just be friends, you know, there's gotta be sort of a..." He rolled his hands around each other, biting his bottom lip. The words he was looking for seemed to disintegrate in the air.

"A what?" Bill questioned, a smirk evident in his voice. He snickered and summoned tentacles of shadow up from the ground beneath the other. They caressed Dipper's body and slithered into his hands. One patted at his back. The hairs stood on the back of his neck; he lept to the side and tripped backwards, landing flat on his butt in the road. His teeth were grit and his face pale with horror.

"I'm really not comfortable with this!" he squeaked, trembling at the re-approaching tendrils. Each one formed a mouth of shark-like teeth and laughed at him before retracting back into the ground from whence they came. Bill chuckled too, staring down at the young man with satisfaction.

"You haven't changed a bit," he said. Bill slid off the fence and put himself back into the air, extending a hand out to Dipper who stared it down, glancing between it and Bill, before getting to his feet himself. Bill dimmed, retracting his hand. "Pine Tree, let's go for a walk." He motioned to the infinite stretch of sidewalk which, at some point, had been changed to lead into a deepening darkness that seemed to extend forever. Despite his better judgment, Dipper hesitantly nodded and pressed forward down the road with Bill at his side.

The world began piecing away. Houses and scenery faded into nonexistence, becoming mere outlines and shards of pale colour the further they went. It grew quieter and darker the, but Bill didn't say another word. He levitated silently with a content and neutral expression that Dipper was having a hard time decoding. For a long time, he stared at the demon, waiting for any kind of advance or some sort of magic to spook him but none ever came. Bill was totally relaxed.

And honestly, that was creepier than anything he could have ever done to scare him. Dipper attempted to break the silence.

"So... was there something you wanted to say to me?" he asked, but gained no response. Rolling his tongue in his mouth, he glanced around the endless void where Bill was the only light to spite the awkwardness. Bill didn't budge. "What am I supposed to say here, man?" he tried again, still fruitless. It was almost as if Bill himself was in a trance, or perhaps like he was an illusion just meant to make up for the absence of Mabel. Cautiously, he reached out to touch the demon - just to be safe - and saw that he was, in fact, really there.

Now he was getting a little irritated. At this rate, he was going to miss his class and Bill didn't even appear to have a reason to stop him.

"If you're not gonna say anything, I've really gotta get to-"

"Pine Tree, something is bothering you and I'm not letting you go until you talk to me."

"What? Why?"

"Because," Bill said as he stopped moving suddenly, "that's what friends do."

Dipper gaped at him in disbelief that he could have possibly said that.

"And what do you know about being a friend?"

"About as much as I do about romancing a prepubescent fleshbag boy," Bill growled, crossing his arms and strengthening a glare on him. "Believe it or not, I have to learn things on my own too. Like how I learned what a two-faced, lying heartbreak you are." Ice shot through Dipper's veins like liquid agony. He felt smaller than a crumb, his whole face draining and stomach rejecting his breakfast. He took a shaky breath.

"You... don't even have a heart."

Bill dropped his arms and shifted his gaze away.

"Not anymore."

Hot tears began welling in Dipper's eyes and he fought to keep them back, not letting them roll down his face and show weakness in front of Bill. He swallowed hard the frog in his throat and refrained from looking directly at the demon in front of him. Finally, Bill continued.

"But here I am, trying to fix things with you, Pine Tree," he raised his voice, putting a hand on one hip and pointing the other at Dipper. "And if you don't want to make things right, that's fine. I expected that of a sorry fleshbag like you, but I'm willing to give you a second chance..." Dipper's arms lifted up without his permission, a yellowish aura surrounding them indicating Bill's influence. The red flannel sleeves peeled back, revealing the triangular self-harm scars embedded in his skin. Embarrassed of them, Dipper averted his eyes. "...and don't tell me you don't want that, too."

"I..." Dipper took a deep breath - one that coursed throughout him from head to toe, his being and in fact his entire existence trembling before him. "Okay." Bill released the magic influence on his arms and they dropped listlessly to his sides again, still not looking at the demon.

"That's what I thought," said Bill in almost a whisper. He moved closer to the other and took his hands, physically, in his own.

The world around them shifted and changed. Bill scrolled through dreamscape locations until they were back at Dipper's house and in the living room where he sat the young man down and waited for him to come out of his deep trance. The house was eerily empty. So used to the sounds of his wife and daughter in the background, something about the silence was just so distinctly Bill. Dipper took steadying breaths. Eventually, a pressure began to bubble in his chest and it rocketed from his mouth before he could stop it.

"Mabel came over the night before last," he blurted, screwing his eyes shut tight enough to hurt. He clamped his hands over his head and waited for Bill to make a smart remark, but none ever came.

"Go on," he said, keenly interested in what the other had to say. Dipper sighed and tried to relax his tense muscles. His hands were clenched and shaking on his thighs and sweat beaded at his forehead.

"She... needed my help," he explained. "I didn't let her in, she came in through the window. She said it was important. That guy, Edwin, that we helped her with nine years ago is making her really unhappy. I almost turned her down, but I thought... that maybe you could help. Just like you did when we were twelve." His heart was racing, hands clammy and chest tight. His face flushed a deep red, fearing what Bill would have to say about it.

"And why should I?" he asked more like a legitimate question than a nasty remark.

Dipper swallowed hard. "I told her everything about us."

And there it was - Bill slow clapped and rolled his eye, making Dipper feel like an idiot for ever thinking he was going to be understanding.

"Well well well, it only took you nine and a half years." Bill fabricated a wristwatch and checked it mockingly. "That's gotta be record time."

"Forget it," Dipper huffed, pinching his arm in an attempt to knock himself out of the dream world. "This was never going to work. You don't know how to be a friend to anyone, let alone me." Bill swatted his hand away from his arm.

"Yeesh, I make one joke and you're already giving up on me." He pointed to the wall at a sign that said 'No fun allowed!' which, in reality, was an old high school portrait of Dipper and Pacifica at prom. He then shrugged and moved to sit on the couch next to Dipper. "I appreciate it, kid - honest! And maybe I can help. Since you came clean to your sister, I can feel the forgiveness washing over me!" Dipper turned and squinted at him, pursing his lips. "It's weird and it tastes like six parts carbon and oxygen, and twelve parts hydrogen."

"Sugar," Dipper stated in reflex. "It tastes like sugar."

"Oh, is that the human word for it? Neat," Bill said with the light of a smile in his face.

"It's also known as glucose for, you know, chemistry or manufacturing."

"You humans are so crafty; I never cease to be amazed by the things you come up with," Bill laughed. And Dipper could have been imagining things, but he would swear on his life that Bill was glowing brighter and putting off a warmer radiation of heat. The latter was soon confirmed as the demon slouched against him, kicking his feet up on the sofa and crossing his arms behind himself. Dipper jumped slightly and blinked at him, his face flushing over with red yet again. His heart thumped in his chest - Bill was... so warm. Dipper swallowed and opened his mouth to say something but only a croak came out. Before he could clear his throat and try again, Bill continued. "That was a cute noise, kid," he beamed, "I bet it would sound even better in bed!"

"No!" Dipper shrieked with a jolt, jerking away from Bill and making the demon collapse even further against him, "I-I thought you - we... Let's not..." His panicked attempt at a rejection was drowned out by Bill's laughter. The demon had his hands clenched over his middle and doubled over in the opposite direction of the young man, allowing Dipper to sit up straight again. He pressed his lips tightly together and scooted as far away as he could from Bill until he was sitting uncomfortably hard against the sofa arm.

"Oh, Pine Tree, Pine Tree - you are too much of a joke!" he sighed, wiping a tear away from his eye. "Did you forget I'm practically the king," he pointed at his hat and in the blink of an eye it transformed into a crown, a metallic ting resonating off of it, "of comedy!"

Dipper was unamused and very uncomfortable.

"Yeah, heh heh... Listen, Bill..." he rubbed the back of his head nervously, "maybe this isn't such a good idea." The demon straightened up and fixed a glare on him, all joy draining from his face.

"And why not?"

"Because... Because..."

"Because you won't leave the past in the past."

"Hey, I wanted to leave the past in the past. You, Bill, I tried to leave you in the past. I wanted to forget about you and move on with my life, but here you are again and it's really hard for me not to..."

"Not to what, Pines?"

"...not to love you, Bill."

Dipper waited for Bill an indication of surprise or even anger, but Bill remained merely irritated. For a long time, he didn't reply at all and regret washed over Dipper in a wave of nausea. He was about to get up and walk away until finally he spoke.

"And you think it's easy for me to pretend nothing ever happened either?" Dipper's breath hitched in his chest. He stared, gaping, at the demon next to him. Out of everything he expected, nothing could have prepared him to hear that. "Don't try to tell me you wanted to leave me behind. Every time you drew my image, I had to sever the link yet again. Do you even know how difficult it was to catch glimpses of you begging for my forgiveness and have to keep shutting off my omniscience to you? And your skin," he said, pointing to Dipper's arms, "you can't even imagine how infuriating it was for me when you kept scratching off the scabs and reopening the wounds, causing the portal to open again and again and again!" Dipper's eyes fell to the floor, hands idly shifting in his lap. Guilt ran through his blood like a cold reminder of his past. "I mean, I felt emotions I didn't even know existed! What's that one where you look at something and feel pain yet joy and also desire? Do you understand that one? Can you explain it to me?" he asked in what was really more of a demand.

"Longing," Dipper answered with a sigh. He rested his elbow on the sofa arm and put his cheek in his palm, staring absently at the wall. "Or reminiscence. It sounds like... you were missing me."

"Well, I didn't like it," the demon huffed, crossing his arms.

"Yeah... It sucks," Dipper added, gazing at his scars. He shook his head solemnly. "So will you help Mabel or not?" Bill stood up on the sofa and stretched his hands out, cracking his knuckles. He grabbed his cane out of thin air and strutted off the couch until he was walking on air again.

"Don't worry, this one's on me. Practically free!" he said, tipping his hat to the young man.

"'Practically' free?" Dipper crossed his arms with a frown. "What's the catch?"

"Come on, kid, I've got places to be. I still have a job to do, y'know. I can't hang around reading the terms and conditions to every deal I make or I'd never get anything done."

"Bill-"

"Just trust me! It's not even a lot, just a trifle," Bill waved it off dismissively, "I'll add it to your tab and when the time comes, you'll never even miss it."

Before Dipper could protest any further, Bill lurched forward and took his hand in a fiery grasp. He tipped his hat once again and said with a twinkle in his eye, "Pleasure doing business with you! Now off to school, sleepy-head!"

With the snap of his fingers, the dream world shattered around them and Dipper awoke on the sidewalk where he'd passed out an hour and a half before. He blinked hard and saw that a sweet-looking portly woman was standing over him with a phone, saying something he was still too half-asleep to really take in.

"Oh never mind, he's awake! I think he'll be alright," she said and then hung up. After a few moments, he was helped to his feet and dusted off. His head was pounding with a new headache he'd gotten either from Bill or perhaps from hitting the sidewalk, and he wasn't quite certain which he would believe first.

"Ah, my head's killing me," he groaned, rubbing the knot forming underneath his hair. "What time is it?"

"I've got, uh, eleven-thirty."

"Shit!" Dipper gasped, choking on his own saliva and throwing himself into a coughing fit. He turned to grab his bookbag off the ground and quickly thanked the woman for her kindness before racing off down the street at full speed, nearly tripping over his own feet. "I'm super late for class!"