A/N: Yeaaaaaaaahhh... I know this took an entire year and then some but I have a very good reason that I'm not gonna discuss here. Anyway, I promised I'd finish it, and I still intend to. There should be roughly 1-3 chapters left. I never stopped working on it. Never fear, Second Chances is still alive.


When the next morning came, Bill was gone. When he'd vanished during the night, he'd left Dipper with an afghan draped over his stomach to keep him warm. Dipper's heart fluttered and he smiled as he sat up and cursed getting old. He stretched, a few bones popping, and recoiled when a sharp pain told him he'd slept on his neck wrong. Geez, ow. It'd be stiff for the rest of the morning. He reached over to tap the 'dismiss alarm' button on his cellphone, shutting off the jazzy wake-up call.

Pushing the blanket off himself, the young man got up to go check on his family. He scaled the stairs up to the second floor and pushed open the door to the nursery. Atlantica was awake and staring up at the perpetual motion mobile her father made her a few months prior to her birth. She gasped joyfully at the spinning UFOs and diamonds and extended a tiny arm out towards them. Dipper hoped she was reaching for the spacecraft.

He smiled as he approached her. She turned her attention to the towering man who fathered her and lit up with a smile and sparkling eyes. Elated gasps rose from her pink lips as she cooed for her daddy.

"Heya, kiddo," he said to her, reaching down into the crib to tickle her belly. She giggled, curled in, and wriggled. Dipper grinned. Her little pink nose, her dusting of dirty blonde hair, her pudgy little cheeks... his smile faded. He pictured the baby below him with a little ball of cerulean flame above her head and maybe also sorta with one big bulbous eye.

He glanced over to the wedding band around his finger and bit his lip. Atlantica paused, her eyes going unfocused for a brief moment before tearing up. Her puffs of discontented breaths attracted Dipper's attention again and he reached down into the crib to pick her up.

"Oh! No, sweetie, don't cry! What's wrong?" he consoled, bouncing her in his arms and patting her back. Her huffs became sobs and she wept louder, drawing the attention of the women in the house. Pacifica, having heard her daughter over the baby monitor came sluggishly in, rubbing her eyes. She adjusted the plush purple robe around her waist.

"Dipper?" she mumbled groggily.

"Ah. Pacifica, I can explain." Pacifica folded her arms expectantly. Tired eyes still managed a skeptical glare. Dipper continued, "I, uh, I was out studying for the finishing touches on my project. It's due today."

"It's not like you to not have your work done on time."

Dipper bit the inside of his cheek and shifted his eyes to the wall, picturing the finished project upstairs in the attic next to his backpack.

"I know. And it's totally done now! But I'm really, really trying to get first place on this one. That scholarship could mean a lot for us."

Pacifica frowned, disbelieving, but didn't press any further. Simply, she exhaled and dropped her shoulders, musing at the sight of her husband and daughter together. It'd been some time since she'd seen it.

Dipper looked back down to a red-faced Atlantica and smiled; then he licked his thumb and swiped it upward on the back of her head so that her hair stood up in a funny cowlick. Oh how perfect it would look with a ball of flame above it. The gesture seemed to calm her, if only a little. He pursed his lips and feigned a smile to Pacifica.

"I should probably start getting ready," he said awkwardly, offering his daughter to his wife. She accepted the sniffling infant into her arms and placed loving kisses atop her tiny head. Atlantica began hiccuping along with her whimpers.

Pacifica stepped aside as Dipper squeezed past her to venture up to their bedroom where he retrieved the day's clothes from the armoire. He decided on something a little nicer than usual for today's presentation. After checking himself in the mirror, he then headed downstairs for a bite to eat.

When he got to the kitchen, the room was still. Upstairs, Atlantica's crying had calmed. The only sound was the rustling of the trees in the morning breeze and the twanging of the wind chimes outside the kitchen window. Faintly, he also heard Mabel moving around upstairs. Peace settled over the house and for a moment, Dipper's mind dreamed.

Wouldn't it be wonderful to wake up to a morning like this in the house he inherited from his Great Uncle Ford? To wake up to devious toddler laughter and the fear that some part of the house may be on fire, or to a dream demon causing mischiefs such as practicing ritual sacrifice and teaching the child the alphabet with dead animal innards?

He wandered forward, running his fingertips over the faux granite counter tops. Yeah, life with Pacifica was beautiful, but what if? What was it like for that alternate Dipper to live life with Bill? Was it everything he ever dreamed? Better?

Dipper absentmindedly loaded up their espresso machine with a cup of his favourite Colombian coffee.

He imagined what it would be like to live in that universe, and to come downstairs for his morning coffee before work after a passionate night with Bill. Images flickered through his mind. Fantasies. Dipper bit his lip, staring down blankly at the counter. The way Bill touched himself in Atlantis, Bill touching his thigh in space. He—oh. Dipper's breath hitched. Last night. The way he was touching Bill.

As the espresso machine whirred in the background, Dipper felt his khakis tighten. With a groan, he leaned forward against the counter and held his forehead in his hands.

All the things he wanted to do to Bill again, all the things he wanted Bill to do to him... His mind stormed with desire, body temperature rising. He breathed out a pressurized sigh and nearly shrieked when the beeping alarm for his coffee went off in front of him. He placed a hand over his startled heart and shook off the shock before fixing his drink.

He tried to keep his mind cautiously blank after that as he began taking things out of the fridge to prepare breakfast. Shortly after he began, Mabel wandered in. Bedhead hair as big as a mulberry bush and eyes squint, she settled down at the table and stared indefinitely out the window. Dipper tried greeting his sister but received only a grunt of acknowledgment. A better greeting came from Pacifica, queen of beauty rest, when she joined them as well.

Dipper was scooping the fried eggs and bacon off the griddle when he received a kiss to his cheek. Surprised, he touched a hand to the spot he'd been kissed and turned to follow her with his eyes. She sat alongside her sister-in-law with her daughter cradled in her arms, ready for breakfast.

"Thanks, Dipper," she said, pulling her robe to the side and resting Atlantica against her bosom. The baby latched on and fed.

"Oh, uh, no problem," he said on autopilot.

Pacifica turned to Mabel and greeted her as well, "Ready for the tournament this weekend?" Dipper raised his brows.

"Oh I'm ready for that," Mabel said, turning a sleepy-weak smile to the blonde, "what I'm not ready for is the drive." She dropped her head onto the table and groaned loud.

"Tournament?" Dipper butted in, bringing the plated breakfast over to the table and serving the girls as well as himself. "Did I miss the memo?"

"Yes actually," Pacifica said bitterly. "Me and Mabel are spending the weekend in Chico for a mini golf tournament." She huffed and rolled her eyes, "We've been talking about it for a week."

"Oh." A wave of guilt washed into Dipper's stomach along with his bacon. He was quiet for a moment. "My project is due today, so hopefully everything will smooth out by the time you guys get back."

Neither girl replied but continued on with ramifications for their trip, making Dipper feel like even more of a jerk. They would be gone by the time Dipper got home from class and work tomorrow, and would check into a hotel for the weekend until Sunday morning when they'd start back home. They would be participating on a team with one other girl from the Piedmont league that Dipper had met only once before at Pacifica's practice.

"You know everyone's gonna be heckling you about being a baby mama now, right?" Mabel said, raising her brows and pointing a fork full of eggs at Pacifica.

Pacifica snorted and waved a hand dismissively, "If it can compare to the things I heard when I married Dipper, I'll be impressed."

The young man gave a forced laugh, a twinge of hurt prickling in his chest.

Dipper ate silently for the rest of the meal, or more or less just poked at his food and occasionally put a forkfull in his mouth. When his family eventually finished, he took a thermos out of the cabinet and poured the rest of his coffee into it.

Mabel started upstairs. "I'll grab your project for you, bro-bro!" she called out to her brother. Dipper nearly burnt his hand spilling the coffee in his effort to stop her.

"Mabel, wait, no!" he hollered back as he hurried into the hallway after her.

"What?" she replied.

"I- uh, i-it's not- you can't see it yet!" he said, grabbing her arm. "It's really- the effect is better if you see it at the show." He grinned nervously. His twin sister read right through his lies.

"Well..." she drew out, "okay, but just remember that the project is over now. Spend some time with us, bropop." Mabel slipped her arm out of his grasp. Dipper frowned and internally sighed. She was right, it was time to stop thinking about Bill. They had some good times, but realistically, they weren't together. They couldn't be. Dipper was married, and their relationship had ended a decade ago.

He purged Bill from his mind and scaled the stairs toward the attic.

"Pine Tree!" Bill exclaimed when Dipper pushed open the hatch. The demon set down his teacup and it poofed away into oblivion. "Good to see you, meatbag!"

"Today's science fair day," Dipper said without looking at the demon as he folded up the cardboard backdrop and packed up the dimensional display.

"Yeesh, cold shoulder much?" Bill dematerialized behind him and reappeared in one of the mini bubble dimensions in his project. "Don't forget the adventure we had to get you that project!"

"Yeah," Dipper sighed, "about that, after this we're not gonna have a lot of time together, so..."

Bill spawned his cane and then morphed it into a tire iron, gripping it threateningly, "Do we need to get rid of them?" Dipper couldn't help but giggle a little. He then cleared his throat and shook his head.

"I just need to straighten out my priorities. I'm sorry, Bill."

A flash of something went over Bill. His eye narrowed ever so slightly, not even noticeably and he didn't miss a beat.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Pines," he shrugged, iron morphing back into his cane. "I've just been a friend to you. If they're jealous that you aren't around, it's no one's problem but theirs, isn't it?"

"Well..."

"Dipper! Let's go!" Pacifica's voice rang out from downstairs. Dipper remembered his project and started hastily packing it into his bag once more.

"Coming!" he called back. "Look, I've gotta go."

"Of course," Bill tipped his hat. "See you at the science fair, Dipper!" He blinked, then pointed to his eye, "You can't tell, but I'm winking at you."

Dipper laughed and shook his head, leaving Bill to whatever it is he does when he's left to his own devices.

...

The Pines family piled into the car; Mabel in the driver's seat, Pacifica on the passenger's side, and Dipper in the back with Atlantica in her carrier next to him. She stared at him indefinitely, as infants tend to do, and he gently stroked her hair as Mabel put the car into gear and pulled onto the road.

Over some low-volume music of Mabel's choice (read: synthetic garbage), she and Pacifica talked about their tournament until they pulled up to Dipper's college. He hadn't said a word the entire drive there, and was the last one out of the car when they arrived. Mabel and Pacifica worked together to get Atlantica out of her car seat and into her stroller. Luckily a very calm infant by nature, she simply gnawed on her toy UFO while they settled her in.

Mabel opened the door on Dipper's side, startling him out of dreamland.

"Yo, you coming, broseph?"

"Oh! Yeah, I'm—You guys go on ahead, alright? Don't want you guys to be spoiled," he said with a grin.

"Suit yourself," Mabel said, shutting the door again. Dipper watched the girls walk side by side to the main lobby, pushing the stroller together. It was kind of cute.

Once they were in the building, Dipper gathered his project out of the trunk and made for the entrant access through the auditorium doors. Tables were set up end to end, creating avenues for observers and judges to walk through. Project boards were set up back to back, encircling their experiments. There were only a few designated spots left. Dipper searched along the alphabetized avenues for his and set up shop in the area labeled D. PINES on the fourth row. His was seated next to his classmates' projects on 'The Flashlight Experiment' and 'Fermi's paradox'. (Dipper already knew that the paradox theory was bullshit. His great uncle Ford had proven it to him a long time ago. So that was reassuring.) His competition was good, but Dipper knew he was in the clear. All he had to do was wait.

After everyone had set up, staff opened the doors to the public and family, friends, and colleagues poured in, filling up the pathways between displays. Dipper stood by his and waited for his wife and sister to join up with him. Mabel beelined straight for him and Pacifica followed Mabel's voice slowly, steering the stroller with one hand and texting with the other.

"'The Multiverse Theory'!" Mabel read with electric enthusiasm, "Wow, so it is true!"

Dipper chuckled a bit, "Yup, Bill took me around to several universes. Here are my—" His sentence was interrupted by his sister excitedly grabbing her trans-unicorn model that was on display and making it converse with her cis-deertaur brother about saving gorgon princess Pacifica from the evil cryptid hunter Bill. Dipper swatted her hands away from his somewhat fragile clay models.

"Ha ha, sorry bro. Couldn't resist," she grinned, setting them back where they were.

"No worries," said Dipper as he neurotically straightened them out. "Anyway, my notes are in this journal that the you from that universe gave me." He handed the sparkling journal to his sister.

She laughed and waved a hand, "Oh Mabel, you know me so well!" then opened the book to skim through all the doodles and notes about his journey.

As she read, Dipper shuffled over to Pacifica, who hadn't said a word and was still texting her other minigolf tournament partner. He stroked twice, her silky blonde tresses.

"Sweetheart?" he prodded. She didn't look up right away, rather finished her next three texts and then sighed as she gave him her attention. Dipper blushed with shame and rubbed the back of his head, "Aren't you going to take a look at my project?"

"I guess someone has to pick up the slack, caring about their spouse's life," she muttered, rolling her eyes and shoving her phone into her purse. Dipper's heart sunk and he stared downcast at the floor. "Wow," she practically mocked, obviously annoyed and disinterested, "Look at all these great things you saw while you went vacationing with your Illuminati B.F.F. I'm so impressed you were handed your win without having to work for it."

A surge of contempt hit the young man and his sad eyes became a glare pointed to the ground. A breath of scorn filled his lungs, "Says the girl born into an aristocratic lifestyle and spent most, if not all of it looking down on the rest of us."

"Excuse me?" she snapped back, whipping her head around.

The squeal of a microphone coming online blared over the auditorium speakers, followed by a strong voice.

"Greetings esteemed students and colleagues! Welcome to a very special event. A generous donation from our sponsors has allowed us to do something splendid this year and give three of our most skillful and diligent students a head start at the year ahead by granting them free tuition for the course or courses of their choosing!" The audience applauded, a few students (and Mabel) whooping. Pacifica made a cutthroat motion at Dipper, who shrunk back into his shoulders. "Our six judges will be making rounds, studying each and every one of your projects and conferring with one another to decide who our winners are. The winners will be announced on stage and will come up to receive their voucher and be greeted by the California Society for Paranormal Research. Complimentary refreshments are located by the lobby entrance. Please dispose of all garbage in the nearby trash bins. Thank you, everyone, and enjoy the paranormal science fair!"

The bustling of the fair began with contestants and observers alike, going around to see other projects. Mabel was having the time of her life, looking at all the pretty backdrops from the artistically inclined students. Dipper walked alongside Pacifica; he could practically feel the cold radiating off of her shoulder. She didn't so much as glance at him for the next hour until the judging began.

The three of them were standing by the hors d'oeuvre and beverage table - Pacifica refusing 'peasant food' on account of being 'too aristocratic' for it and Dipper rolling his eyes and groaning - when a judge placed down a red 3RD PLACE ribbon on the project board nearby them. Mabel nearly spilled her lemonade jumping and pointing out the award.

"Oh, guys! They're starting!" she exclaimed, throwing an arm around her brother's shoulder and pulling him in to look.

Their attention then turned to the stage where the dean began his congratulatory speech, and suddenly Dipper was overcome with a sense of dread. If he wasn't third place, he only had two more shots at winning. He stood on his toes to look over the project boards, glancing around the auditorium to see if he could see a blue ribbon on his display. However, too many people with too many heads obscured his view. He whimpered and scratched his arm.

One by one, the students were called up to the stage, starting with three honorable mentions who received gift cards to the supernatural science museum. The winners were announced next. It would be fine. There was nothing to worry about.

Except the wrenching gut feeling that there was something to worry about. Dipper's dread got the best of him. He definitely was not honorable or third place - two remaining shots. So he excused himself (or rather, dipped away without a word) to navigate through the crowd toward his project. He occasionally jumped up to attempt catching a glimpse of his board, but it was no use as people were clustered in front of it, facing the stage.

"...Our third place winner, Braxton Flatwood!"

Everyone applauded. Dipper awkwardly squeezed between an overweight couple, apologizing profusely just in case it'd been offensive somehow, and rounded the corner for the aisle his board was on. He could almost see it, but a clique blocked his view. He pressed through.

"Jack A. Lopez, our second place winner!"

The applause came again. Dipper nearly knocked over a small child. His apology rushed and distracted, the mother grabbed him by the arm and made him say it again sincerely. It felt like it took an eternity, but eventually he was free, and he continued bowling through people until he came to his stand. Someone was politely shoved out of the way of it, and then all of the dread left his body.

"Jersey DeVille, first place! Congratulations!"

And dread was replaced by horror. And shame, and humiliation. But worst of all, guilt.

Bill. Bill lied to him. All that hard work, and Bill lied. A million things raced through his mind all at once as he stood, frozen at his display. Why did he lose? Why did Bill lie? All that tuition money slipped right between his fingers. Was this going to drop his GPA? He knew he should have worked on this by himself. Pacifica was going to be so disappointed, and angry. Why did Bill lie?

The winner climbed the stage and received his voucher. The paranormal committee greeted him with enthusiasm.

"Excuse me," Dipper reached out to a passing judge, "I have a few questions about the scoring system for this event."

"Sure thing," the judge replied, turning their attention to his inquiry.

"I'm the uh- multiverse theory contestant, and my display included vivid explanations of alternate universes and their mechanics, as well as imagery of—"

"Oh yes, well you see the object of this science fair was to raise probability of plausibility, not to write anecdotes."

"Huh?" Mabel puzzled.

"First of all, the definition of an anecdote suggests one had experienced the tales described. Second of all—break out your tinfoil hat for this one—I have been visited by an otherworldly force and have personally visited all locations described. I've seen the rift between dimensions. I've traveled with a demon. There's legitimately no reason I should not have won first place."

"While we at the Society of Paranormal Research are far, far more likely to believe these claims, if you do claim to be from other dimensions—"

"I said I visited other dimensions, not that I was from them."

"—then you would need to at least show us one of those fuzzy pictures like the whole bigfoot thing or nessie or whatever. You get the point."

Dipper produced his journal from somewhere he'd been keeping it on his person, "These are my rough notes. Look!" He pointed to a splash of iridescent glitter that had water-damaged the paper. "The corner of this page has unicorn snot on it from where my parallel twin unicorn-centaur sister sneezed on it!"

"I still can't believe I was a unicorn!" Mabel squealed as she grabbed the notebook Dipper held and pulled it in her direction. Peering down at the page, she laughed at the sight and then sneezed.

"There, you see?" Dipper said before he sneezed as well, synchronized allergies acting up once again.

"I'm sorry, the fair has already concluded. The judgements and awards are final. But you make a very good point. Perhaps next time, include these things in your display and perhaps you'll rank higher. If you'd like, you can contact the Society independently."

"What? But I—"

"Enjoy the rest of your day, Mr. Pines."

As the judge walked away, Dipper was left gaping in horror. His point, more than proven, was too little too late. Emotions raged inside of him. Anger, guilt, shame, confusion, disappointment. He inhaled deeply and shifted his eyes to Pacifica.

Her arms were crossed and she had a fixed glare on him. Worst part was that he was entirely deserving of it. Dipper hung his head and put his notes back from whence they'd came. Silently, he walked toward his project and packed it up.

No words were exchanged the entire ride home. The only sounds were the hum of the motor and Atlantica's soft babbling. Mabel sat in the front next to her sister-in-law with Dipper in the backseat again. He idly toyed with his daughter's foot, to which she found joy, as he stared down at the permanent triangular scars engraved on his arms.

When they eventually made it home from their awkward drive, Pacifica was the first to get out, moving quickly and aggressively. She slammed the car door behind her, making Dipper hesitate to open his. She then marched around to unstrap Atlantica from her carseat and slammed that door behind her too. At this point, Mabel was reluctant to exit the vehicle. The twins watched as Pacifica stormed into the house with her daughter and finally slammed the front door. They suspected she also slammed the bedroom door once she made it upstairs.

Mabel sighed.

"Dipper, what's gotten into you?"

"Into me? I'm not the one storming around just because their partner didn't get a grant."

"No, I mean with all of the disappearing and staying up late and excuses. We really miss you, bro-bro."

"I can't help it if I had a—"

"Uh-uh, stop! If I hear you say project I'm gonna break your face!" she said, cupping her hands over her ears. Dipper crossed his arms and grunted. "It's not about that, and you know it. You're spending all your time with Bill and we're not stupid despite what you might think."

Guilt twinged in his gut and Dipper could no longer look his sister in the eyes. He turned his attention out the window, watching as the neighbor swept their front porch.

"You need to make up with your wife, plain and simple," Mabel scolded, turning back in her seat to glare at him. "Before we leave for the weekend," she added. "This isn't a joke, and it isn't just me trying to play marriage counselor. I get to be a therapist enough at work."

Dipper frowned, "You're right. I'm gonna let her cool down first but I'll talk to her tonight. I promise."

"Good. She's good for you, Dipper. Don't make her resent you after all she's done for you."

Dipper stretched forward to encircle his arms around his sister, "Thanks Mabes, I'm glad I've got you looking out for me."

Mabel hugged him back tightly, "No problem bro-bro. I'm always here for you."

They got out of the car and approached the house, Dipper took a steadying breath before walking inside.