I'll stop hurting them eventually I promise. Please leave a review if you're enjoying the story so far!
Warnings: Alcohol, Guns/gunshots, coarse language.
Dipper's eyes fluttered open and he sat up to stretch with a yawn. For the first time in three days his side didn't ache when he did. He rubbed his eyes and yawned again.
All at once, all of the memories of Bill's last visit rushed back and his eyes frantically searched the room. When he concluded that he was alone he exhaled heavily. However, he nearly sucked all of the air from the room once more when he looked down at himself. He was no longer wearing the torn and bloody pajamas he'd put on yesterday, and instead was wearing a fresh, un-ruined white t-shirt and plaid pajama pants.
"Damn him!" Dipper hissed, coming to the conclusion that Bill must have changed his clothes for him while he'd been asleep. This, of course, meant that Bill had to have undressed him.
Dipper continued to swear angrily under his breath while he swung his legs off the bed to stand up.
When his feet hit the floor he winced in pain, quickly realizing that when Bill was "fixing him up" he had clearly missed his broken toes. Dipper hobbled out into the hall and down to the bathroom. He stopped just outside the door when he saw the light inside seeping out from under the door and the sound of a running hairdryer.
He knocked twice and waited for a response.
The hairdryer stopped and he heard Mabel answer, "yes?"
"Mabes," Dipper said, leaning close to the door to make sure he was heard, "when you're out I'm takin' a shower."
"Alright," she answered before clicking the dryer back on.
Dipper stepped back out of the path of the door and leaned against the wall. He lifted the toes of his injured foot and rested on his heel. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. He hadn't looked at the time, but he was sure he'd been asleep for several hours; However he still felt tired, though significantly less than before.
He sleepily opened his eyes when he heard the dryer turn off and the door click open.
"All yours," Mabel said with a smile. She brushed past him and stopped at the top of the stairs. "I'll make you some lunch. You were passed out when I came up with dinner, and still out when I went down for breakfast this morning."
"Lunch?!" Dipper asked incredulously. Mabel laughed and nodded as she hopped down the stairs. Dipper rubbed his eyes again as he closed the bathroom door. "Geez, how long was I out for?"
He turned on the hot water and grabbed a fresh towel from the cabinet, making a mental note to take some more painkillers when he finally made it down the stairs. The mirror had already begun to steam over when he'd started undressing. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it to the ground. When Dipper reached up and swiped the mist from the mirror, he nearly jumped back in surprise at his appearance.
His left hand came up to the side of his ribs. The bruise that had been there before was now gone and his side looked just as it always had, he breathed deeply and felt no pain from it, which was a relief. His eyes traveled up his chest and stopped at just below his collar bone. His fingers felt the soft, slightly raised, and scarred skin before his mind had processed it. On the left side of his chest, right above his heart, Bill had used his knife to carve a triangle into Dipper's skin. His heart lurched as he traced the mark with his fingertips.
Dipper tore his eyes from the mirror and practically flung himself into the shower. He stood beneath the showerhead with his forehead against the cool tiles and closed his eyes, letting the warm water fall across his back. He pounded an angry first against the wall beside his head, a shaky breath ghosting between his lips.
His hand dropped from the wall to his chest and he pressed the flat of his palm against the triangular scar. His eyes stung, and it was then he realized he was nearly crying. He rubbed at the scar, desperately trying to wipe it from his skin. But, of course, it wouldn't budge. His stomach felt like lead as he miserably continued to scratch at it until his skin was an angry red.
He choked back a sob and his shoulders slumped in defeat. Not for the first time, he wished he'd just gone to bed that night.
When Dipper arrived downstairs in fresh clothes, Mabel was lounging on the couch in her pajamas watching television. "Your sandwich is in the fridge," she called to him as he walked past the living room and down the hall.
Dipper didn't respond, instead he simply limped to the kitchen and up to the fridge. He pulled the medicine box from the top of the fridge and set it on the counter, and when his stomach rumbled, grabbed his sandwich. He took a bite of the sandwich, then set it down and reached into the medicine box to look for the pain killers. Dipper's hand scratched at his chest again subconsciously and he scowled. Dipper picked up his sandwich again and angrily took a bite out of it.
"Geez," he heard Mabel laugh behind him as she entered the kitchen, "what'd the sandwich ever do to you?"
"Attacked me with a knife," Dipper grumbled sarcastically, "twice."
"Twice?" Mabel stepped up next to him and hoisted herself onto the counter to sit beside the medicine box.
Dipper grumbled in response. "Oh come on," Mabel said cheerfully, clearly trying to cheer him up. "We've been through much worse. Remember that weird rock monster thingy? Hit you with a boulder and snapped your tibia in two places; you were in a cast for months. How bad could this possibly be?"
Dipper slammed the remains of his sandwich back down onto the counter, and angrily lifted the left side of his shirt. He heard Mabel gasp, and moments later felt her fingertips brush against the scar. He pushed her hands away and pulled his shirt back down, taking a half step backwards.
"When…" she whispered, "when did that happen?"
"After you left. He came in through th-."
"But, I was only just down the hall! I would've heard something!" She interrupted. "How could he have possibly do-?"
"Well he did it!" Dipper interrupted back, only louder.
Mabel fell silent and looked at him, her brows furrowed as she looked him up and down. After a long pause, she spoke. "You're staying with me all day," She said it more like an order, her tone leaving no room for protest. "And all night, too. If he comes back then I'll just..." She trailed off with a scowl.
"You can't stay with me," Dipper responded sullenly, walking over to the kitchen window. He watched a rabbit hop lazily across the front lawn in the afternoon sun.
"Why not?" Mabel asked to his back.
"Because," Dipper snapped as he turned around, "he says that he likes me and he did this." He pointed at his chest. "Imagine what he'd do to someone he didn't like."
"So what?!" Mabel shouted back. "I'm going to protect you!"
Dipper was ready with a retort but instead chose to groan in frustration and turn back to the window.
"Look," Mabel said quietly, "this is the third time he's come back. What if… what if he keeps coming back? What are you going to do?"
Dipper sighed heavily and rested his forehead on the window sill. "I don't know. I don't know how to stop him. I don't know how to protect myself from him. Hell, I don't even know what he is."
Mabel slid off the counter and Dipper heard her shuffle through the medicine box. "Here," she said, putting a comforting hand on his back and offering up a pill bottle.
"Thanks," Dipper mumbled. Dipper pulled his head off the window sill and took the bottle from her. He limped to the sink and grabbed a cup from the cabinet.
While he was filling his cup Mabel looked out the window and spoke again. "You know…" she said quietly as Dipper took a sip of water, "You could always ask Ford abo-."
Dipper's choking as he nearly spat out his water cut her off. "Oh yeah?" He said sarcastically through heavy coughing. "That would go over real well. 'Hey Ford! It's me, Dipper, you know? Your great-nephew you haven't seen in almost 5 years? I know I cut all ties with you after you went completely insane and almost killed all of us with your bat-shit crazy experiment, but I've got myself in some deep shit now and I need you to fix it," he mocked dramatically. "That would just go so well."
"Well if you have a better idea, then go ahead!" Mabel shouted back angrily before storming to the doorway. She stopped just inside the doorframe and hissed over her shoulder: "Just don't be stupid and get yourself killed."
Dipper angrily set his cup down on the counter and fumed quietly. He heard the bedroom door slam shut upstairs and turned away from the hallway-side door and trudged out the door on the other end of the kitchen to the front door. He grabbed a sweater from the hall closet and elected to go without shoes. His foot was probably too swollen for shoes anyways. He swung the door open and didn't bother to stop it from slamming shut behind him. He slumped down miserably on the dingy, front porch couch.
He stared blankly out into the trees and watched the autumn sun stretch the shadows across the lawn for several hours. His hand, every once in a while, absentmindedly rubbed the scar underneath his shirt, and he groaned. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tattered cushions. Dipper cracked one eyelid open when the screen door creaked open beside him and saw Mabel standing just outside the doorway. She glanced around before spotting him on the couch and shutting the door softly. She walked over to the couch and sat down next to her brother.
"Here," She mumbled as she handed him a full bottle.
Dipper noticed that her eyes seemed a little red and puffy. "What is it?" Dipper asked as he took it from her.
"Root beer," Mabel answered as she took a swig from her own bottle and stared out into the darkening trees.
Dipper sipped it and furrowed his eyebrows. He pulled the bottle from his mouth and pulled a face at the bitter taste. "This… is not roo-."
"I know," Mabel cut him off, taking another swig from he own drink. "Figured you needed it."
Dipper mumbled a soft 'thank you' and laid his head back again. They sat together in silence and watched the sun setting over the trees. After a while, the porch light flickered on and Mabel got up.
"D'you want another one?" She asked at the door.
Dipper looked at their now empty bottles laying on the porch beside the couch. "Yeah," he answered and closed his eyes again.
The door closed softly and he was left in silence. He listened to the birds singing goodnight in the trees, and the animals rustling out in the forest; however, one sound seemed more defined than the others. Dipper opened his eyes and sat up straighter to look out into the dark. The light breeze had pushed the clouds in front of the moon, so he couldn't see much further away than where the porch light ended. But, as soon as the figure that had been steadily walking forward stepped into the light, Dipper was already on his feet.
"Get the hell away from me," Dipper hissed through gritted teeth.
"Oh, that's not very nice," Bill, who was now standing a few feet from the front porch, chided with a smile.
"As if I care," Dipper spat back, taking a quick step backwards as Bill took one forward in the same moment.
The smile left Bill's face and he glowered at the other boy. "Hmph," Bill crossed his arms and looked away, "and after all I've done for you.
"You mean like this?!" Dipper suddenly shouted as he pointed at his chest.
Bill leaned forward at the waist with a sudden grin. "Do you like it? I did it just for you, darling."
Dipper, taken aback by the sudden sweetness in Bill's voice, let the disgust in him seep out into his expression. Just as he was about to retort, the screen door behind him swung open quickly and Mabel strode out onto the porch. She had a bottle in one hand, and Stan's handgun in the other. Dipper saw Bill register both his sister and the weapon in the same moment, and stepped in front of her.
"So…" Bill leaned back upright and regarded Mabel with a look of disinterest. "You're the other one."
Dipper reached a hand back and grasped his sisters wrist, the one holding the gun, and held it tightly. "Put it down," he hissed over his shoulder. Mabel didn't acknowledge him and instead kept her cold eyes glued on the figure in the grass.
The previous air of childishness Bill had before was now gone. "I don't want to play with you," he spat, "why don't you just go back inside?"
Mabel held her head high, and Dipper found no trace of fear in her voice. "Not if you plan on hurting my brother again."
Bill took a step forward. "That's none of your business."
Dipper stepped more in front of his sister and pushed her backwards toward the door. He felt her start to try to pull her hand from him, so he gripped it tighter. "H-how about you leave instead?" Dipper attempted to have the same confidence as his sister, but knew immediately that he'd failed when Bill's expression changed to one of amusement. Bill turned his eyes from Mabel to Dipper and smiled.
"Oh, sapling, you're too much fun for me to leave you alone," Bill mewled. Dipper stepped back again as Bill extended a hand to him. "Why don't you just come with me and we can have some fun?"
Dipper looked at the boy, drawing shaky breaths as Mabel continued to try to pull her hand free. "Y-you're crazy!" He shouted. He disliked the sudden use of pet names, sensing that it boded poorly for him.
Bill retracted his hand and tilted his head to the side. "Only a little," Bill said. His expression hardened again when his attention turned from Dipper to his sister. His eyes darted quickly to the gun in her hand that she was trying to wrench away from her brother. Bill raised a hand up and snapped his fingers next to his head.
Dipper suddenly felt his hand go slack and Mabel pulled her hand from him.
"Go ahead," Bill mewled, he raised both hands up to his sides, "maybe you'll have more success that your brother."
Dipper's eyes widened in realization when Mabel shoved him aside and leveled the gun in front of her. Dipper fell to the ground, and, before he could move to stop her, she fired. The resulting 'bang' rang through the silent evening. Bill fell backwards flat onto the grass and Mabel lowered the gun to her side. Dipper stayed on the ground, unable to get up as the adrenaline had worn off and his breath was gone. Mabel glanced at her brother before slowly stepping to the edge of the grass just off of the porch, as she did she took a swig from the bottle she still held in her hand.
Dipper hoisted himself up using the couch for support before stumbling to one of the support posts and leaning heavily on it. Mabel continued to edge forward towards Bill's motionless body. "Mabel…" Dipper hissed quietly, "be careful."
Mabel turned to look at him and began to say something, but was cut off by Bill quickly lunging off the ground and seizing the wrist of the hand holding the handgun. Mabel cried out in pain as the gun was wrenched from her hand and fell away from her. Bill twisted her arm behind her back and she cried out again.
"Let go of her!" Dipper shouted as he stumbled forward. His foot, luckily the uninjured one, caught the edge of the porch and he fell to his knees in the grass. As he made another attempt to get to his sister, Bill laughed loudly.
"I'd stay over there if I were you," Bill crooned. Dipper watched Bill extend his free hand and twist it in the air. The knife Dipper was now familiar with materialized in his hand. Dipper's breath hitched when Bill lowered the knife down to Mabel's throat. Mabel struggled against Bill's grip, but he only smiled wickedly and pressed the knife to her skin. Mabel stopped moving, seemingly frozen still, and a few tears trickled down her cheeks. "Where'd all that fight go?" Bill taunted, "Not nearly as much of a fighter as the other one. He didn't cry when I played with him, at least not too much."
"Hey, Bill!" Bill looked up from watching Mabel to see Dipper standing a few feet from them. He trembled on his shaky legs but his eyes were unwavering and focused on Bill's own golden ones. Dipper shakily held up his hand, in it was the previously discarded handgun. "Wanna play a game?" Dipper asked coolly.
Bill's expression of murderous excitement wavered for a split second as he regarded the other boy, but returned quickly. "My interest is piqued, do tell?" Bill asked as sweetly as a child asks for sweets.
Dipper's shaky hand clenched around the grip as he spoke. "The rules are simple," Dipper raised the gun, but instead of pointing it at Bill, he pressed the muzzle to his own temple. "You let her go, and I won't shoot, and you'll get to keep your… playmate." Saying those words made Dipper want to vomit, but he suppressed the feeling.
Bill narrowed his eyes at the other boy, his smile disappearing, and he looked as if his mind was working overtime to process the proposition. "Alright," Bill said slowly, a ghost of a smile playing at his lips, "shoot." Mabel's eyes went wide as she tried to shout at him, but she was stopped by calculated pressure from the blade on her throat. Dipper didn't move, he realized how very little he actually new about this unpredictable boy. Bill watched him expectantly his chin tipped up slightly and head tilted to the side. "Go on," Bill cooed, "it's your rules after all, I'm only playing the game."
Dipper's hand visibly clenched around the grip and his finger moved to the trigger. Dipper exhaled heavily, he saw his breath make swirls of steam in the cool air. He briefly thought of what it would feel like to die, but this thought had become a common companion in the past few nights. He pushed that thought aside and placed his index finger firmly on the trigger. Bill's eyes glinted with delight.
Dipper stood completely still, he had not expected his bluff to be so accurately called. Now he had two options: don't shoot and Mabel would likely die, or shoot and hope to God Bill would lose interest and let Mabel go.
Bill's smile disappeared, "better hurry, your game is getting boring." He shifted on his feet and adjusted the blade against Mabel's neck, producing a squeak of terror from her.
Dipper made his choice quickly and steeled his nerve. He tore his from the golden ones across from him and squeezed his eyes shut, then he pulled the trigger.
Dipper expected a bang, maybe a flash of pain in his temple, and then nothing.
He did not expect the shrill laughter that followed the sharp click from the gun in his hand. Dipper opened his eyes and dropped the gun loosely to his side.
Bill released Mabel's wrist and she fell to the ground and scrambled quickly away. He held his sides with manic laughter and both of the twins moved warily back. Bill calmed himself before holding up one of his slender hands, pinched between his thumb and index finger was a small bullet. "Missing this?" He taunted, flicking the bullet into the grass at Dipper's feet. Bill took a few swift steps forward and Dipper continued to stumble backwards until his back hit one of the porch posts.
Dipper pressed himself into the post as Bill closed the distance between them quickly.
"I really do like you," Bill sighed sweetly as he placed himself nearly chest-to-chest with the smaller boy. Dipper found no comfort in this compliment and only stayed completely still and silent like a deer caught in headlights. Dipper shuddered when Bill placed a palm on the left side of Dipper's chest directly above the scar. "You know," Bill continued, eyes leaving Dipper's and glancing down at his own hand, "I really wished you liked me too."
"Y-you're crazy," was all Dipper could manage to respond before he was silenced by Bill quickly pressing his own lips to Dipper's before pulling himself away.
Dipper fell heavily to his knees as Bill moved away. Dipper watched in shock as Bill receded into the darkness beyond the porch light, and heard his voice ring clearly from the darkness. "I'll see you soon, sapling."