Warnings for this chapter: blood & violence.
"You did what?!" Mabel shouted, slamming the journal she was holding down onto her desk.
"I shot him," Dipper responded nonchalantly while thumbing through the pages of the second journal situated in his lap. "But, in my defense he was trying to stab me." Dipper had spent the past hour recounting every detail he could remember from the past two nights. It would have taken a lot less time if Mabel hadn't interrupted so many times.
Mabel looked at him incredulously before speaking again. "But then…" she trailed off and looked towards door before lowering her voice to a whisper. "Where did you hide the body?"
Dipper looked up from the journal page he was on and to his sister. "That's the thing, Mabel, I didn't have to."
With many more interruptions Dipper finished recounting everything he could remember and Mabel finally fell silent. He watched her pensive and concerned expression before he continued to flip through the journal and stopped on a random page.
"Hey Mabel," he said with a laugh as he held up the book to her, "think he could be a gnome?"
Mabel giggled a little before walking across the room to sit on the bed next to him. She leaned against his shoulder and glanced at the page about vampires he was now studying.
"You're gonna look at it with a black light, right?" She asked. To that, Dipper nodded and grabbed the black bulb he had placed on the bed next to him. Mabel stayed over his shoulder for the next half hour, pointing out similarities between different creatures and what he'd told her about Bill. They continued for what felt like ages; however, cover to cover, there was not one thing that matched Bill in any of the journals. They even went so far as to glance at Dipper's books about cryptids, but still found nothing.
Dipper finally closed the cover heavily and flung the book he was holding against the pillow in defeat "Nothing," he groaned, "nothing!"
Mabel glanced at the journal then stood up and walked over to the window. She put her forearms on the windowsill and rested her chin on her arms, squinting in the mid-afternoon sun. She smiled out the window when she heard Stan make a particularly loud proclamation to the tour group he was leading outside on the lawn.
"Maybe we should take a break?" she suggested, not looking away from the window.
"Alright," Dipper sighed and headed for the door, "I'll make lunch. What do you want on your sandwich?" When Mabel didn't answer he turned back to her.
She was looking intently out the window at something on the lawn. Without looking away from the window she spoke very softly, "what… did you say he looked like again?" She stepped to the side to make room beside her as Dipper hurried up to the window. She pushed her finger against the glass, pointing it in the direction of the totem pole. Dipper squinted into the sun. Someone was definitely standing in the shadow of the totem pole, and they definitely resembled Bill.
"No… no way…" Dipper pushed off the window sill and headed down the stairs as quickly as his tired body could take him. He jumped down the last step and slid around the corner, through the gift shop door, and nearly slammed into Stan's back.
"Oh! Ladies and gentleman, look here," He said in his trademark showman's voice, "the wild teenager in his natural habitat!"
Dipper tried to push past him to the door. "Stan move! I don't have time for this."
Stan grabbed his shoulder and stopped his progression to the door. "Woah! Slow down there, kiddo. Why the rush?" He asked cheerfully.
"I'll tell you later!" Dipper said back as he pried his shoulder from Stan's grasp and continued to push through the crowd in the shop to the door. He flung it open and sprinted around the building as fast as he could manage. But, when he reached the totem pole, no one was there. He circled around it twice and saw nothing, not even the imprint of feet in the grass other than his own. He looked up to the window where he had been standing with Mabel only moments ago, but Mabel wasn't there anymore. He turned from the window to face the woods and searched the tree-line, but nothing was there.
"Dipper!" Mabel's voice made him jump and nearly fall backwards. When he turned to face her she was standing only a few feet behind him.
"What?!" Dipper had shouted before he even had time to think, and immediately regretted it.
Mabel took a step back.
"I'm just trying to help you…" She said quietly. "What's going on with you?"
Dipper, as if waking from a trance, suddenly realized how he must have looked to her. He was wide-eyed and frantic, looking desperately around the yard for someone who wasn't even there. Dipper took a shaky breath and calmed himself. "I'm… I'm sorry," he mumbled, "I guess I'm just tired." Mabel looked unconvinced, but nodded once before heading back towards the shack. Dipper leaned heavily against the totem pole and watched his sister as she stopped and looked over her shoulder.
"Come inside," she ordered, "you're going to bed."
To that, Dipper simply nodded and trudged after her.
By the time he had made it up the stairs and to the attic, Dipper's exhaustion had fully set in. The warm afternoon sun poured through the window and filled the room with a warm, comforting glow. Mabel ushered him towards his bed and grabbed the discarded journal off the pillow and set it on the bedside table. Dipper wanted to grab it from her and put it under the pillow where he'd always kept it, but he was too tired to muster any resistance.
"Now," Mabel said as she headed for the door, "go to sleep. I'll bring you some food later." Dipper mumbled an agreement and piled his tired body into the bed. "You're gonna be okay, right?" She asked as she paused in the doorway.
To that, Dipper simply groaned and rolled onto his side to face the wall. He listened to the click of the door sliding into place, and then the faint creak of Mabel heading down the stairs. He stayed in that position for several minutes before rolling to his other side and reaching over to grab the journal from the nightstand. He ran his fingertips down the edges of the torn pages, thinking that maybe if he just looked through it one more time…
But, of course, he and Mabel had gone through it in vain already, so there was no point. Dipper placed one hand against the gold, six-fingered, emblem on the front and closed his eyes. As he began to drift into an exhaustion-driven sleep, he he heard a faint tapping from somewhere nearby. He opened his eyes slightly and glanced around the room, he could not see anything in the room that could have been causing it, so he decided it must have been someone in the gift shop downstairs.
The noise stopped after a time and Dipper closed his eyes once more. He marveled for a moment at how paranoid he must have seemed just then, pulling himself from sleep to jump at a simple sound, before drifting into a dreamless sleep.
When Dipper woke up, the room was filled with the soft of the late-evening sun. He sat up and stretched his arms out above his head, but quickly pulled them down again when his side ached. He rubbed his tired eyes and glanced at the nightstand, the clock on the table showed 7:17 pm. He pulled himself from his bed with a groan and walked slowly out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom.
When he looked at himself in the mirror he noted how the smaller scratches had already begun to fade, and the large one on his cheek was forming a bruise around it. He lifted his shirt to look at the bruise on his side. The edges of it had begun to turn a yellowish color, starkly contrasting the bright purple of the shoe print that he could now see clearly in the middle. He inspected his toes and concluded that one of them was definitely broken. Dipper yawned as he poked at the bags under his eyes before he turned on the cold water and splashed some on his face.
When he arrived back in his room the sun was squarely set on the horizon and bathing the room in orange light and stretching the shadows long against the ground. Dipper stumbled to the window, unlatched it, and let it swing inwards. He closed his eyes and breathed in the autumn air. As he stood at the window his stomach began to growl loudly. He closed the window and turned to head downstairs to find something to eat for dinner.
As he grabbed for the door knob he heard a sharp 'tap' from behind him that made him pause for a moment. His first thought was that a bird had hit the window, but that thought was dismissed when the same 'tap' came once again. Dipper slowly turned his head to the window. He jumped instinctively, expecting to find something staring back at him, but there was nothing. However, Dipper's eyes remained locked on the window, waiting to see if it would happen again. His shoulders were tense, and after a moment he realized he'd been holding his breath.
Then he saw it: a dark hand slowly reaching down into view of the window, tapping once on the glass, then pulling away quickly out of sight. Dipper breathed out heavily, correctly assuming who the hand belonged to, and shuffled over to the window. He reached up and unlatched the window as quietly as possible and pulled it open towards him.
Dipper waited, watching the open window. When he saw the hand slowly reach out once more, he quickly reached out with both hands and grabbed hold of it pulling down on it as hard has he could. A shout of pain from above him and the hand being wrenched from his grasp told Dipper that his actions had had the desired effect.
"What the hell!" He heard Bill shout from outside, "What was that for?!"
"For being a creep!" Dipper shot back. "Get the hell away from me!" As he reached to close the window, Bill suddenly lowered himself to where he was hanging upside down in front of it.
"At least I knocked," Bill said in annoyance. He glared at Dipper through the open window in silence for a moment. "So? Are you gonna invite me in, or what?" He huffed.
Dipper took a step back. "Depends," he said with a raised eyebrow, "are you gonna attack me again?" At this question Bill pulled a face as if he was thinking extremely hard, Dipper thought he looked rather silly hanging there.
"I dunno," Bill spat, "I haven't decided yet." He had his face scrunched up in a look of disdain, but from where Dipper was standing it was simply strange looking more than intimidating. Against his better judgement, Dipper relaxed a little with a small laugh at the situation. "What'chu laughing at?" Bill snapped again.
"You," Dipper stated plainly, trying to return to a more no-nonsense attitude. Bill stared at him for a moment before a smile spread on his face that made Dipper's spine tingle.
"Oh well," he sing-songed as he began to pull out of view of the window, "guess you don't want answers then."
Dipper lunged at the window and leaned out as far as he could without falling out. "No! Wait a second!" He shouted, "I didn't mean it."
"Oh, I know you didn't," Bill's voice had moved from outside into Dipper's ear and made him nearly fall forward out the window. "I just like to mess with you."
When Dipper spun around in surprise, he instinctively swung his fist at the figure who was now far too close to him. Bill caught Dipper's fist in one hand with a look of surprise. Bill narrowed his eyes at Dipper before speaking. "I have a new game," he said coolly
"I-I don't want to play," Dipper stuttered. He attempted to pull his hand away but Bill held it tight.
Bill smiled and leaned towards Dipper's face, to which Dipper tried to back away. However, Dipper's back was already at the window frame, there was nowhere for him to move. As Bill continued to lean forward Dipper turned his head away and again attempted to pull his hand free. He reached up his other hand to try to push Bill away, but it was quickly seized as well.
Bill leaned in close to Dipper's ear, and chills went down Dipper's spine when Bill's breath brushed against his skin. "Here's the thing, Dipper," Bill whispered quietly, "you don't really have a choice."
Dipper's eyes widened when he was suddenly pulled from the wall by his wrists and thrown onto the floor. He landed heavily on his already bruised side and his breath was pushed from his lungs on impact. Before he could even get to his knees, Bill was already over him and pressing a knee to his chest. Dipper's hands clutched weakly at Bill's leg and tried to push him away.
Bill laughed a little and he reached into his pocket. Dipper, sensing what was coming, felt the intense fear from the night in the woods returning to him. His breath caught in his throat when Bill drew out the now familiar dagger once again.
"Okay," Bill mewled, "here's the rules." Bill leaned forward and lightly placed the tip of the dagger against the collar of Dipper's shirt. "If you cry, I win. If you scream, If you swear, I win." He said excitedly, "If you hit me, I win." Bill leaned forward once again with a smile, "If you don't do any of that, then you win!"
"I thought you said you'd give me answers!" Dipper squeaked, feeling the cold tip of the dagger through his pajamas.
"That's the prize," Bill said as if it was the most simple thing in the world. Dipper began to breath very quickly, eyes searching around him for anything he could use to defend himself. When there was nothing to be found, he began to struggle and writhe in an attempt to somehow free himself. "If I win," he continued, "then I'll kill you."
Bill shifted his weight and moved his knee so that he could sit on Dipper's stomach. He began to press the knife down very slightly, eyes focused on Dipper's terrified face. Dipper pinched his eyes shut and desperately tried to pull every inch of his body away. Bill smiled and drug the knife down the front of Dipper's shirt, cutting a rough line down the middle from his collar to his navel.
Dipper choked back a shout as the blade of the knife cut a small line down his stomach. Bill brought his free hand up to Dipper's cheek and roughly pushed his head to one side against the ground. Dipper wrenched his eyes open, but now he was unable to fully see Bill's actions above him. Bill placed his knife between his teeth and used his now empty hand to push aside the left half of Dipper's shirt. Dipper attempted to lift his hands to fight him away, but Bill quickly pinned his arms down to his sides with his knees and scoffed as he removed the dagger from his mouth.
"This is why I like you," Bill said quietly. Bill drug the flat of dagger across the helpless boy's skin and to the left side of Dippers chest, just above his heart. "You're a fighter." Bill suddenly pressed the tip of the dagger into Dipper's chest and began to move it along the soft skin.
Every muscle of Dipper's body screamed in pain and he thrashed unintentionally.
Bill clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Ah-ah, don't want me to mess up do you?" he chided, sickeningly sweetly.
Dipper's eyes stung with tears and he pinched them shut to stop them. A silent scream left his open mouth as the knife left his skin and he could feel the sting of the cut on his chest.
Bill once again placed the dagger against Dipper's skin and Dipper made an audible noise of protest. Bill laughed harshly as he once again drug the knife, much faster this time, before completely stopping but not pulling the blade away. He sat completely still atop Dipper's stomach, and felt the other boys chest rise and fall sporadically with slight hiccups, to which he smiled. He gripped Dipper's chin in his hand before turning his head to face him.
"Open your eyes," he ordered. Dipper didn't move and only continued to pant quietly "I said open your eyes," Bill said louder as he pressed the knife in a little deeper. Dipper choked out a small cry as his eyes flew open. His adrenaline took over and he began a new bout of squirms and kicks to attempt to get loose. Bill, once again, laughed and began to move the knife along the now heavily bleeding skin. When he'd stopped moving, Bill pulled back the knife to admire his handiwork.
As the knife left his skin for the third time, Dipper - eyes now glazed over in pain and exhaustion - stared limply up at his captor. Bill looked from Dipper's bleeding chest to his face and back again.
"I think it looks better that way," he said with a grin. "You win, I suppose." Dipper closed his eyes with a heavy exhale but opened them again when the weight on top of him shifted away. When he'd realized Bill had moved, he sat up quickly to try to crawl away from him. But, Bill had other plans.
"No, no," Bill chided, "I'm not finished yet."
"Get the hell away from me!" Dipper shouted back as Bill reached for him. Dipper smacked Bill's hands away desperately. Bill grabbed Dipper's wrists and easily stopped Dipper's escape. Dipper's eyes fell to the hands on him and he saw his own blood on Bill's palms, and he suddenly let out a loud shout unintentionally. He prayed that Mabel or Stan had heard him and would soon be in the room to help him.
"They can't hear you, Dipper," Bill said quietly as the smile left his face, pulling Dipper closer to him.
"Get out of my head!" Dipper screamed again, hot tears stinging in his eyes. As Bill pulled at him, Dipper kicked out his feet and connected his foot with Bill's leg. Bill simply grunted and furrowed his brow.
"Just. Stop. Struggling," Bill grunted and yanked Dipper hard from the ground and pushed him against the nearest wall. Dipper's head connected hard with with the wood and he groaned, his resistance being knocked away with his breath. "Do you want answers or not?!" Bill suddenly shouted.
Dipper went slack and would've slid down the wall if he'd not been being held up. Bill released Dipper's wrists and allowed him to slump down to the floor. Bill squatted down in front of the boy and tilted his head with a curious expression.
"Hmph," he made a noise of disapproval as he pushed his bangs aside, "I guess you're not as tough as I thought. So fragile..." He paused for a moment before situating himself on the ground next to Dipper. Dipper would've moved away if his aching body would have let him. "But still," Bill continued with a sigh, "I still like you." Dipper found no comfort in those words.
Dipper put up very little fight, only a quiet "stop," when Bill reached his arms around him and he was pulled into the other blonde's lap. Bill held him in his lap like a child, looking down at him fondly. Bill smiled as he pushed aside the tatters of Dipper's shirt and looked at the mark on the left of Dipper's chest. "You bleed a lot," Bill mumbled.
"No… Shit… Sherlock," Dipper spat slowly. He'd begun to feel incredibly tired which he attributed to his lack of sleep, and now lack of blood.
Bill rolled his eyes dramatically. "You're so sweet to me," He said.
"Fuck you," Dipper hissed as he pushed against Bill's hands. Dipper thought he heard Bill mutter something along the lines of "ask me later," but chose to ignore it. Bill easily pushed Dippers hands away and placed his warm fingers on the bloody mark, causing Dipper to hiss in pain.
"You know," Bill mused aloud, "if you'd calm down a little bit I can fix you up while I answer those questions that are ringing in your ears." Dipper simply glared as a response, until Bill pressed down on the cut causing Dipper to nearly scream again.
"Fine!" He half-shouted, as he willed himself to be still.
Bill smiled and tilted his head. "You have to ask nicely first, then you can ask questions."
Dipper gritted his teeth and looked away before asking as quietly as possible: "please."
"Oh fine," Bill said, removing some of the pressure he'd applied, "that'll have to do. Ask away." Bill began to lightly trace over the three marks he'd made on Dipper's chest. As his fingers danced lightly across the red-stained skin he muttered something quietly.
Dipper watched as the bloody gashes beneath Bill's fingers began to rapidly heal over into scars and the pain lessened. He exhaled fully for the first time since Bill entered the room and finally found his voice again.
"The mind reading," he stated, rather than asked, but nonetheless Bill answered.
"I'm not reading your mind, per say," He answered with a bemused look as he turned his attention to the bruise on Dipper's side. "It's more like I'm reading your emotions. The stronger the emotion, the easier you are to read." Bill spread his fingers across Dipper's side and began to mutter again. Dipper felt a tingling in his side and looked down to see the dark bruise fading slowly away.
"What…" Dipper chose his words carefully, "what about all of the things you can do?"
"Things?" Bill questioned with a raised eyebrow.
"The teleporting and stuff," he said quickly, "and surviving a gunshot, and that thing you did in the forest the first time I saw you."
Bill snorted with a sudden burst of laughter and placed his hand tenderly on the cut on Dipper's cheek. "Oh that?" he asked sweetly, "just little party tricks." He leaned down close to Dipper's face. "Did you like them?"
Dipper reached up and pushed Bill's face away. Instead of answering, he asked another question: "What are you?"
Bill tilted his head once more with a curious expression. He caressed his fingers down Dipper's cheek, and Dipper felt the same tingling sensation. "How badly do you want to know?" Bill asked quietly, again leaning slightly forward. Dipper furrowed his brow and didn't speak. He wanted to know, but he was also afraid of knowing. As if reading his mind once more Bill spoke; "Very badly then," He whispered with a smile.
Dipper nodded his head a minute amount, like he didn't want Bill to notice it at all.
"You need to sleep first," Bill said as he stood up with Dipper still in his arms. Dipper attempted to squirm loose but Bill held tight.
"But, you said you'd answer all my questions!" Dipper said indignantly.
"Sleep first, answers later," Bill responded. He dropped Dipper onto his bed and, once again, leaned close to the boys face. Dipper's eyes widened in surprise when Bill placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. He was about the hit the other boy in anger when he was overcome with a wave of exhaustion.
"What…" he mumbled as his eyes began to droop, "what did you do?"
Bill smiled softly and Dipper watched through blurry vision as he began to back towards the window, "just another party trick." He shrugged. "I can't have you dying on me from lack of sleep."
"Wait…" Dipper trailed off as exhaustion overtook him, and he fell into a dreamless sleep.