Chapter 2 has been edited! Woohoo!

Warnings for this chapter: Violence, guns/gunshots, blood.

Dipper woke up with a pounding headache and an ache in his side. He blinked slowly before raising a hand and rubbing at his eyes.

"Oh good, you're awake." He heard Grunkle Stan somewhere nearby. "Mabel, he's awake!"

Dipper heard rapid footsteps on the stairs and when he turned his head to the door, Mabel was standing in the doorway.

They stared at each other for a moment before Mabel launched herself across the room at him. "Oh thank God!" She yelled as she threw her arms around him.

"Hey! Hey! Watch the side!" Dipper shouted and pushed her away sharply. She moved back and rubbed her hands together sheepishly with a mumbled apology. Dipper tried to sit up, but the sharp ache in his side made it difficult. He leaned his head back against the cushions when he finally managed it.

"Here." Mabel reached for the table beside the couch and handed Dipper a bottle of painkillers.

He looked at the bottle for a moment before disregarding it. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "What... happened?" He muttered. "Wait... wait..." All at once the events in the woods all rushed back. The light, the fighting, the running, passing out in the yard, Mabel finding him in the yard, and the…

"The kid," Dipper said suddenly.

"The what?" Mabel asked, sitting down on the couch beside him.

He waved a dismissive hand and started to stand. "Never mind. It's nothing." He pushed Mabel's hand away when she tried to stop him. "I'll be fine, I just need to take a shower and get out of these clothes." He ignored Mabel's protests and stumbled into the hall and up the stairs. His muscles protested every movement and the toes on his right foot shot pain up his leg with every step, but he eventually made it down the hall and into the bathroom.

He shut the door and slid the lock into place with a 'click' before turning to the mirror and inspecting his reflection.

His brown eyes were rimmed with dark, puffy circles from a lack of sleep. His forehead, cheeks, and chin were littered with small bruises and scratches from where branches had caught him. A thin, red line stretched from his left cheekbone down to his chin just below his bottom lip, his right cheek was littered with streaks of dirt. He ran a hand through his hair and shook out bits of grass that had become entangled in his curls. His arms were also covered in small scratches and large smudges of dirt. Dipper sighed and lifted up his stained pajama shirt to look at the sizable bruise on the side of his ribs. It was a deep red and smudged with blue and purple; He thought he could vaguely make out the shape of a shoe print in the middle of it. Dipper touched it tenderly with his fingertips, it would be there for a while. He scowled.

"What the hell was with that kid?" Dipper muttered angrily. He suddenly thought about the kid's promise of meeting again with excitement; the thought of payback. That feeling was replaced with apprehension as he looked back at the cut spanning across his cheek.

With quite a bit of grimacing, Dipper managed to pull off one of his socks to inspect his injured toes. Both socks now had at least one hole in them and were filthy. Dipper's third, fourth, and fifth toes were all purple and quite swollen. Running on that foot after slamming it into a tree root was probably not the smartest decision; however, it wasn't like he had many other options.

He decided the best thing for him was a shower and a change of clothes. It would be a lot easier to think about everything if he wasn't covered in dirt and blood and wearing ruined pajamas.

After he had showered, Dipper grabbed a clean white T-shirt and jeans. His foot was too swollen to put on shoes so he elected to go without them. When he finally glanced at the clock he wasn't all that surprised to find out it was 7:47pm. Staying up all night and being beaten up can wear you out quite a bit. If he hurried, he knew he could watch the rest of the sunset from the roof. He passed Mabel on the stairs but she was too busy with her phone to pay him much attention. He walked into the kitchen and absent-mindedly opened the refrigerator. When nothing looked appealing, Dipper grabbed a bag of popcorn and a can of soda.

By the time Dipper had closed the hatch on the roof and sat down with his legs hanging over the side, the sunset was already turning from pink to red. Dipper sipped his soda and distractedly rubbed the bruise on his side. Dipper leaned back against the warm shingles and closed his eyes with a sigh. That wasn't the first time his curiosity had gotten him into trouble, but it was the first time he had encountered something like that kid.

When Dipper opened his eyes again the sky was now a brilliant orange-red that faded to a dark purple and the stars were coming faintly into view in the east. As he looked into the steadily darkening sky, Dipper heard the boy's voice in his head once more: "I'll see you tomorrow..."

But Dipper had a plan now: If that boy showed up, he'd be in for a surprise.

While Dipper was climbing the ladder to the roof, he overheard Grunkle Stan saying that he had misplaced his handgun. It hadn't been misplaced, of course. Dipper had grabbed it off of Stan's nightstand on his way upstairs while Stan was in the kitchen. He wasn't going to be taken by surprise again.

The rest of the evening sun faded out beneath the horizon and the stars began to blink brighter into view. Dipper sat up and looked up at them wistfully. He'd always liked the night better than the day, especially in the fall, when you could look out and see the lighter shade of the Milky Way against the black of the night sky. He liked the colors at night better too. The bright vibrant colors in the sun were all well and good but the deep blue-green of the pine trees and grass were beyond compare. From where he was sitting on the roof he could look across the lawn and see the shadows the moon cast on the ground. Days in Gravity Falls were filled with adventures and monster hunting and sweaty, uncomfortable fishing trips; But, when night fell it was so quiet, like the whole world had gone to sleep.

The whole world except - it seemed - for the figure now emerging from the woods and walking steadily towards the Shack.

Dipper watched the figure with curiosity, though he had already guessed who it was. He deftly touched his right pocket and felt the shape of the handgun situated there. The figure stepped into a ray of moonlight and looked up at Dipper on the roof, it was as he had expected.

The boy looked the same as he had when Dipper had seen him the first time. He stared at him for a moment his head tilted in a way that moved his streaked bangs aside and caught the rays of moonlight in his eyes.

"I told you I'd see you again," The boy said with a smile. He was quite a ways away, but his normal speaking voice was somehow able to carry all the way to Dipper.

"I didn't doubt it," Dipper replied coolly. He tried to sound nonchalant but he could tell that he did not.

"Come down and we can play another game." The boy placed his hands in his pockets. Dipper instinctively grasped at the gun in his pocket. The boy frowned when Dipper didn't respond. "Unless you're afraid to lose?" The boy taunted.

"More like afraid to die," Dipper countered. "I'd rather skip the game and stay up here, thanks."

The boy sighed and took his hands out of his pockets with a shrug. "That's fine I suppose. I'll just have to come up there, then."

"What do yo-?" Before Dipper could finish the boy had disappeared in a blink. Dipper looked around the darkened yard frantically.

"Looking for something?" The familiar voice came from behind Dipper so he spun around. The blonde was perched on the peak of the roof, hands back in his pockets once again.

In a moment of fear and surprise Dipper yanked the gun out of his pocket and aimed it square at the boy's chest.

"S-stay back." Dipper stammered. He tried to act like he wasn't afraid but it was quite obvious that he was.

The boy rolled his eyes and started to take a step forward but stopped when Dipper's finger flinched on the trigger. The boy set his foot back down and frowned. "You're no fun," He stated. He looked down at his feet and shuffled one against the roof with a dull scrape. "This game was a lot easier. No punishment if you lose."

Dipper's hands shook. Holding the gun out i front of him put strain on his injured side. He wasn't sure how much longer he could use the weapon as leverage. "Again, I'll pass on the game," Dipper stated. "Still a little sore from our last one."

The boy sighed and pulled his hands from his pockets. He lifted them next to his head as a sign of surrender, but in one hand was the dagger he had used the night before. "Oh fine," the boy rolled his eyes and dramatically dropped the knife onto the shingles. The pair watched it as it skidded down the roof and landed with a small 'clunk' in the gutter.

"Happy now?" He said with another sigh as he looked back up at Dipper with his golden eyes.

"Quite," Dipper responded sarcastically. He lowered the gun to his side but didn't put it away.

The boy grinned widely and let out a burst of laughter. "We can play our game now," He stated as if Dipper had already agreed to it. The boy let his shoes slide down the roof to where the brunette was standing. When he drew even to him, Dipper took a wary step backwards. The boy sat down on the edge of the roof, legs hanging off the ledge, and looked out at the trees.

Dipper looked down at him for a moment, then looked away and shook his head disapprovingly at himself. "I must be crazy..." Dipper thought. Before sitting down out of arms reach. "Alright," Dipper said as he set the gun in his lap clearly in view, "what game are we playing this time?"

The boy smiled softly in response. Dipper looked at him out of the corner of his eye. This was the first time he had looked at him up close without the distraction of a knife in his face. He was skinny, but Dipper could clearly see the muscles beneath the surface. When he smiled the freckles that dotted his face like stars made it brighter. But his smile was a little unsettling, and Dipper felt that his canines looked a little too sharp. His hair was clean, curly, and an even platinum blonde, except for the black streak on the right side of his bangs.

"You're going to guess my name," The boy stated as he leaned back against the shingles with his arms folded behind his head. He closed his eyes with a smug smile.

Dipper was confused, this seemed far too tame compared to what had happened the night before. "Why don't you just tell it to me?" Dipper asked, annoyance sleeping through in his question.

The boy opened his eyes but didn't move. "Because I said to guess," he stated, "That's the game."

"A dumb game if you ask me," Dipper muttered.

"I could up the stakes, I suppose," the boy said as he adopted a more threatening tone. He still had not moved. "I said no punishment but I can always change my mind."

Dipper's hand instinctively closed around the gun in his lap and he saw the boy's eyes dart to it and then back up again. "I'll pass," Dipper said quickly. He stared at the boy apprehensively for a moment. "How many guesses do I get?"

"Three... Four if you're lucky." He said as he closed his eyes again.

Dipper decided to ignore the last part of his statement and began to think. "There's thousands of names, how could I possibly get it right?"

"Tick tock," the boy sing-songed with a cheeky grin

"Oh shut it!" Dipper snapped. The boy furled his brows, he appeared to be thinking. He looked like he was about to speak but Dipper interrupted him by throwing out a name.

"Michael?" Dipper guessed.

"No," the boy said, his expression changing again to one of mild amusement as he closed his eyes again. Dipper took notice of how quickly the boy shifted personalities, almost like a child.

"Anthony?" Dipper guesses again, and was again answered with a 'no'.

"One more guess." The boy sat up onto his elbows.

Dipper stared at the boy, studying him. The manic glint that had been in his eyes in the woods was returning. He thought quickly, hundreds of names came to mind but, how could he possibly come to the right one?

"I... I don't know," Dipper said quietly.

The boy frowned again with a sigh. "Oh well," he grumbled, sitting up and looking out at the trees. "That's no fun." He was silent for another moment before standing up suddenly and speaking again. Dipper looked up at him curiously. The boy was looking down at him with a pensive look on his face. "I've changed my mind." He stated blankly. The boy raised his hand up near his head and twisted it deftly, the shining dagger he'd thrown away early appeared in his hand.

Dipper scrambled onto his feet, grasping at the handgun. He backed up slightly before raising it even with the boy's chest, his hands shaking violently.

The boy stared silently, holding the knife slightly aloft. Their eyes locked with intensity, caught in a silent match of wills. Dipper's side began to feel like fire but he refused to lower the weapon. After several moments, the boy stepped forwards quickly and Dipper pulled the trigger with a resounding 'bang.' The boy stumbled backward slightly, shock plastered on his face, knife still in his hand. His heels teetered at the edge of the roof. He looked at Dipper, held tilted slightly, then down at the steadily growing red stain on the left of his ribcage.

"You... you shot me?" The boy whispered sharply. He looked back down at his chest then back up again. The boy's eyes closed half-way and he tipped backwards off the ledge.

Dipper's arm sagged and he limply dropped the gun, he heard it slide off of the roof into the gutter as he tried to steady his shaking breath. He stood in shock for a moment before he scrambled to the edge and hurriedly searching the dark ground for the shape of the boy; However, he saw nothing on the grass below. Dipper quickly scaled the roof, opened the trap door, and hurried as quickly as he could manage down the stairs. He snatched a flashlight from the hall table and made for the back door. The slamming of the screen door behind him caused him to wonder why the sound of the gunshot had not awoken either Mabel or Stan.

He pushed that thought out of mind when he rounded the corner to the side of the house that lay beneath the section of roof he had been on only moments earlier. Staying close to the side of the house, Dipper clicked the light on and shone it to the patch of grass where the boy's body should have now been lying. But as Dipper had seen from the roof, there was nothing there. Dipper cautiously creeped forward to the exact spot beneath the ledge and scanned the area around him. But still, nothing was there. Dipper stood in confusion moving the light from side to side. It didn't make sense. He saw the boy fall, he had to have landed here.

"That wasn't very nice, you know."

The voice froze Dipper's blood in his veins. He stood completely still, not daring to look away from the light of his flashlight for fear of what he may find in the shadows. He waited, praying he had imagined it. Praying the lack of sleep was playing tricks on him. But then he heard it again.

"I wasn't actually gonna hurt ya'."

Dipper wheeled around, falling backwards with a small shout when he found himself almost nose to nose with the boy.

"Not too much anyways..." the boy muttered. He began to take a step forward and Dipper scrambled backwards on his hands as quickly as he could. The gun was still on the roof, he had no way to defend himself. The boy advanced on him and his back hit the wall of the Shack which made him wince. He was trapped.

"Wh-what do you want from me?!" Dipper shouted.

The boy stopped advancing and tilted his head to the side before answering. "I just wanted to play a game," he said with a shrug. He furrowed his brow for a moment. "Did... did I scare you?" He asked softly.

"Well you've had a knife in my face for two nights in a row," Dipper shot sarcastically, "what do you think?!" His fear was steadily being replaced with anger.

The boy took a step back, golden eyes laced with confusion. He took a few more steps back before flouncing to the ground in a cross-cross. "Well, that's a shame." he said quietly. "I didn't mean to scare you, Dipper." He paused. "Well, maybe a little."

Dipper still remained pressed to the wall. "H-how do you know my name?" He asked shakily.

"Oh," the boy's mischievous aura returning, "that's a secret." As he said this he raised both of his hands a wiggled his fingers. Dipper swore he saw blue sparks twinkle around his fingertips.

"W-we'll then maybe I should know yours." Dipper forced the shake from his voice. "That was the point of the game after all."

The boy sat up straighter. "William," he said with a grin. Dipper didn't think that was a fitting name, he thought "Satan-spawn" had a better ring to it. The boy tilted his head again - which Dipper decided must be some sort of habit for him - before saying: "but you can call me Bill."

"Alright then. Bill it is," Dipper kept his back to the wall, half expecting Bill to lunge at him again.

"I'm not going to try to stab you again," Bill said with an exaggerated eye roll.

Dipper relaxed slightly, his curiosity getting the better of him. "How do you keep doing that?" Dipper asked.

"Doing what?"

"That thing you keep doing. It's- it's like you keep reading my mind or something."

The boy placed his chin in his hand and smiled sweetly. He fluttered his eyelashes at the brunette. "Are you asking if I know what you're thinking when you look at me?"

"What? No!" He scoffed and looked away. After a moment he looked back leaned forward a little. "So... you are reading my mind?"

"Well..." Bill sat up and tilted his head again, "it's a little more complicated than that." He looked as if he was going to say more but trailed off, blinking slowly at the brunette. "I... have to go." Bill stated, suddenly standing. He turned and shoved his hands back into his pockets as he walked back towards the darkened tree-line. "I'll see you again soon."

"And what if I don't want to see you?" Dipper called after him. He tried to get up but the sharp pain in his foot kept him sitting.

Bill smiled again, his white teeth caught the glint of the moonlight as he looked over his shoulder. "I don't particularly care."

Dipper watched Bill's back as he walked into the trees and out of sight. As he sat against the siding of the Shack holding his side, Dipper thought about the strange boy. He looked like he was Dipper's age, give or take a few years, but he didn't act like it. Dipper thought him very childish at times, and very adult and serious at others. He also seemed incredibly unpredictable: flipping from bubbly to murderous in seconds, and changing his mind on a whim.

Dipper finally mustered the strength to hoist himself up, using the wall for support, finally tearing his eyes from the trees. By this point the early morning sun was threatening to creep over horizon sometime soon. He gingerly rubbed his bruised side and decided to conveniently "find" Stan's pistol the next time he had the strength to get onto the roof. As he made his way around the house he decided to see if there was anything similar to Bill in the journal. As far as he could recall, there was nothing, but checking was all he could think to do.

The bell above the front door gave off a faint jingle as Dipper slowly opened it, and barely made a creak as he shut it behind him. The clock in the hall showed 6:17am. A second night without sleep, but he wasn't particularly tired. Dipper wasn't sure if it was adrenaline or just being past the point of exhaustion.

He hobbled into the kitchen and pulled the first aid kit off the top of the fridge. He made a mental note to ice his foot later, but for now a new bandage and some painkillers would have to do. He re-wrapped his toes and grabbed a cup from the cabinet to wash down the pills. As he slid the box back onto the fridge he heard the faint creak of the stairs and turned to the doorway.

"Hey Mabel," he said. Mabel walked past him and grabbed a box of cereal off the counter.

"G'morning," she said with a yawn. As she poured her bowl she glanced over at Dipper. "How're the battle scars?"

"Could be better," Dipper said with a chuckle. He leaned against the countertop and looked out into the living room for a moment. "Hey, Mabel?"

"Yeah?" Mabel answered with another exaggerated yawn.

Dipper looked back into the kitchen. "I need your help with something."