There's some violence and minor language in this chapter.

Here's chapter 4 of "Welcome Home"!

As the Pines family got ready for their day in town, Mabel was deciding on which sweater to wear.

"Bunny sweater, sprinkle sweater, or shooting star sweater?" Mabel asked herself, squinting her eyes and rubbing her chin in thought.

Out of Mabel's countless sweaters, the shooting star sweater had always been her favorite. It reminded her of the very first day of summer she'd spent in Gravity Falls. Mabel remembered what she hoped to have been her 'epic summer romance', and when it all turned out to be a bunch of gnomes dressing as a human to trick Mabel and take her as their queen. She shivered at the thought of what could have been had Dipper not come to save her. She was grateful he had found that journal after all.

Meanwhile, as Dipper brushed his hair and listened to the Weekly Top 40, Thoughts and questions about the author, his Great Uncle Stanford, and how long it must have taken him to write those journals. Dipper was still upset that Bill had burned all three of them, right in front of his eyes. All that time of hard work gone. Dipper was at least glad Bill was gone, and relieved that he no longer existed as a problem to anyone.

Luckily, there was almost nothing in those journals that Ford didn't already know or remember. On multiple occasions he had considered re-writing most of the information and keeping it somewhere safe, somewhere no one would find it. He felt like that may not help him in the present, but possibly in the future when he would become more forgetful and less capable of adventure. Sometimes he'd forget that eventually age would have no choice but to catch up to him.

Ford went downstairs and made some toast. He opened the fridge and got out the jar of strawberry jam. The Pines family had a special liking to strawberry jam over any other flavor. Dipper was first to come downstairs after Ford, hoping he could get a good conversation going. Mornings were usually the easiest to speak with his Grunkle, so usually tried making the best of it.

"Good morning, Dipper." Ford greeted, turning his head to look at his nephew.

Dipper smiled. "Morning, Grunkle Ford." He started. He nearly began to inquire something but quickly stopped himself before asking too personal of a question. The last thing he wanted was to invade the author's privacy.

Stanford raised an eyebrow. "What is it, Dipper? Is there something wrong?"

Dipper shook his head at the question. "No, nothing's wrong. I was just wondering how you've been, I guess. You know, since Weirdmageddon and Grunkle Stan's memory being erased." He said.

Ford paused for a moment before a small smile appeared. He turned to Dipper and ruffled his hair. "Things are working out just fine, my boy." He replied. Dipper nodded at his Grunkle's response. "Bill is gone, Stan is getting better, and the town is working like it should. Things are finally getting back to normal." Ford assured. He gave a chuckle. "Well, as normal as they can be, anyway." He said and stood up as the toast came out of the toaster. Dipper smiled.

"Are you hungry?" Ford asked Dipper. Dipper nodded, and sat down at the table. Stanford spread some butter, as well as some strawberry jam, onto both toast slices. He put one in front of Dipper and the other on the table. Two more pieces of bread were put in the toaster for Stan and Mabel.

A few hours later, the Pines got ready for their day and the younger twins hurried inside the car. Stan offered to drive, but Ford declined the offer, telling him that he should take it easy.

"I've been takin' it easy for months, Poindexter!" Stan argued.

"After what happened last week I have very little faith for you being on the road again." Ford replied, taking the front seat before his brother could try anything.

Stan scowled and opened the passenger seat door. "Hey, that was almost an accident!" He defended, shutting the door behind him.

"Quite." Ford mumbled.


The Pines were not aware of Bill's presence in Gravity Falls. They had no idea that he woke up on the same bench he had spent most his time on the day before.

What exactly do fleshbags do all day, anyway? Bill asked himself.

He wanted to find something to do. He had as much time as he wanted to kill, anyway. Bill looked around at his surroundings. There he saw the donut shop he had visited yesterday. He also saw a gas station and a mall, none of which he found to be of interest without any money.

Eventually he laid eyes on the apple tree beside the bench in the patch of grass.

"Hmm.." Bill expressed, a grin creeping up on his face.

He tried climbing the tree, but his body just wasn't strong enough to lift himself up. He felt weak now, starting to believe he wouldn't survive long in his new, physical form. He put his hands in his hair, frustrated with his lack of skills, and kicked the tree. Seconds later, a circular object hit him on the top of his head, as if it had fallen from the sky. Bill rubbed his head and looked down at the object, realizing it was an apple.

He picked up the apple and examined it. The apple was red, with a sweet smell to it. Bill looked straight up, and noticed multiple apples hanging above his head. Cautiously, he took his first bite of the fallen apple. He heard a saying once that the first bite of an apple tastes the best. And this just happened to be his first bite of an apple. Ever.

After a few minutes of kicking the tree, and failing to shake it, Bill managed to get a few more sweet apples to fall to the grass. He grinned, rethinking his survival skills. He gathered the apples into his hands, one by one, and brought them back over to the bench. He would have been more proud of himself had the shame of being in this position to begin with not surfaced.

Bill sat down on the bench once again, when he noticed a green-looking piece of paper flowing in the wind. Money, he thought to himself. Bill jumped up and followed the cash as it flew in the wind. He chased it down for several minutes, not showing any signs of giving up despite his pace slowing and heart racing. He glared at the paper and tried to catch up to the cash, reaching for it, before smacking into a light pole. He held his head, but continued running, trying not to fall from dizziness.


As Dipper and Mabel rode in the back seat of Ford's car, Grunkle Stan sat in the passenger seat reading a magazine about "Pick-pocketing Stubborn Customers". The car ride from The Mystery Shack to town wasn't long, on average it would take about six minutes. Dipper had his arm near the window, leaning, his head atop of his hand.

Mabel kicked her feet joyfully as she chanted, "Family fun! Family Fun!". Grunkle Stan couldn't help but snicker at the look on Dipper's face, clearly annoyed with his sisters loud action. She started tapping her hands on her lap, making a somewhat annoying drumming noise. Dipper sighed and gave his sister a disapproving look. Mabel laughed when Stan copied her behavior. Ford turned to look at his brother and cracked a smile. He quickly turned back, keeping his eyes on the road.

As Dipper tried to block out the noise, he thought about how easily Stan got his memories back. Mabel's scrapbooking turned out to be useful, after all. Dipper had his doubts about it at first, but he also had doubts about Stan when his Grunkle attempted to bring back the author after 30 long years. Dipper felt foolish to believe his Grunkle was a bad man that day, but Ford assured him that he was only being cautious with his surroundings, and that Dipper was just listening to his head.

Mabel's annoying behavior was disrupted when Dipper shot her a glare. Mabel smiled. "What's wrong, bro-bro?" She asked, not looking away from her brother. She scooted closer to him until the seatbelt wouldn't budge any further. She poked Dippers arm multiple times, causing him to become even more bothered. "Am I annoying you?" She asked, innocently. Mabel knew the answer was yes, but she liked to see Dipper's reaction to her obvious questions.

Dipper moved her hand away from his arm. "Yes, Mabel, you are." He stated.

Mabel laughed, and punched him in the arm in a playful manner, still causing him to flinch at the sudden movement and cover his arm. "Only when I want to be!" She defended, still laughing.

The pines reached the same donut shop Bill had stopped by the other day. Ford parked the car at the side of the sidewalk close to the shop's door. Mabel unbuckled her seatbelt once the car had stopped and squealed, causing Dipper to rush out of the vehicle.

Stan set his magazine down on the floor of the passenger seat. Ford looked up at his brother when Stan had gotten out of the car and made a slight scowl. He picked up the magazine from the floor and placed it atop the seat, instead. Stan shut the car door after making a joke about how easily Dipper can get annoyed. Dipper had rolled his eyes. He sure remembers his unamusing humor. Ford thought. He too shut his door.

"Hey Sixer, why not the diner?" Stan inquired when he saw the sign.

Ford gave him a blank look. "Well, if you'd rather wait in the car." He suggested. Stan scowled which made him smile.

As Ford shut off the car, the Pines started towards the door. Stan held the door for his niece and nephew, and looked over at his brother. "Ladies first." He said, and cracked up at his own joke. Ford just sighed and looked at his brother, amused at the fact that he hadn't matured much since they were kids.

Karen happened to be working another shift since yesterday. The Pines walked up to the counter while looking up at the menu options displayed above. Mabel shrieked in excitement when she saw a unicorn designed donut.

After a bit of thinking, everyone had ordered what they would like, and they sat down at a booth in the corner. Mabel of course, took one of two window seats, and Dipper took the other. Mabel was convinced the window seats would be calling her name whenever she sat in a chair or booth of any kind.

Dipper saw a cloud in the shape of a triangle in the sky, and began choking on his first bite of donut. He slammed his fist to the table, trying to make the decision of letting it sink down his throat or spit it back up onto his plate.

"Bit off more than you can chew?" Stan played, patting Dipper on the back with some force to assist with his problem. He hit Dipper's back a couple times and then smacked the back of the head jokingly.

Mabel laughed at his brother once he took a sip of water to help himself. Ford couldn't help but laugh along, and Dipper just looked at the window to hide his embarrassment.

Mabel grinned. "Oh, bro-bro, family time just wouldn't be the same without your weird little issues." She commented. and took a sip of milk. Dipper looked back up at the sky to see the same cloud turning into more of a blob. He figured his mind was just playing games with him. Bill was dead... wasn't he? Dipper decided not to think much of it. He believed Ford.

The Pines eventually finished their treats. The younger twins found the need to use the restroom. Stan stayed behind inside the restaurant to wait for his niece and nephew.

Ford went outside to turn on the car. He looked down at his keys, trying to find the right button. He scolded himself for not testing out all the buttons on the car beforehand. It had been thirty years, after all. Unintentionally, Ford opened the trunk. He rolled his eyes at the inconvenience and walked over to the trunk to close it. The lid made a loud shutting noise, and he looked back down at the buttons.

"Come on, I remembered when we came here." Ford grumbled to himself.

The slight wind that was carrying the dollar kept going. Bill turned the corner sharply, reaching his arms out to try and snag the money. His hand's motion helped to push it away and it picked up speed. He kept his attention on the dollar, hardly paying attention to the rest of his surroundings. Bill's focus came back to get him, and instead of pushing forward he crashed into Stanford from behind.

Ford's middle and head smacked into the rear of the car at the sudden impact. He groaned with a cringe at the attack and turned around, holding his stomach as he scowled. Laying below him on the concrete he noticed a seemingly younger man with short, blonde hair. Ford's glower quickly turned to a look of shock.

"Stupid weak meatsacks," Bill muttered under his breath, looking away from the sun above him. He hissed at the pain. Had the impact not been so unexpected he'd be laughing at it. He held his head with one hand and his stomach with the other.

Ford stared at the stranger, his sympathetic shock still apparent. "Dear, Einstein! Are you alright?" He asked the blonde, quick to extend a hand down towards him. Were the stranger not in pain he probably would have been more upset. Bill partly sat up, squinting his eyes at the other man's hand. One he knew all to well. As if the voice hadn't been a dead giveaway he'd hoped to push aside, this only confirmed it. Bill must have stared at the hand for a moment too long, because before he could do anything Ford brought his hand back to himself. The scientist put them behind his back and looked away with an awkward expression.

Oh, he'd been offering to help him up.

Bill ignored the stupidity that he felt washing over him for not realizing and wordlessly stood up by himself. He fiddled with his hands, despite them starting to shake. Perhaps he could make a run for it before the other continued on with-

"In a rush?" Ford asked, looking back at the blonde who didn't meet his gaze. Bill scratched the back of his neck and nodded. He didn't know what to do. What was he supposed to do? Ford noticed the odd behavior and furrowed his brows slightly.

"...Are you alright?" He asked with the same concern, just for a different context. The other didn't look alright. He could sense the awkwardness. Was he making things awkward? To the blonde, Ford was just a stranger, after all. They didn't know each other, maybe the other was uncomfortable. Then again, he looked a little roughed up, too. A couple bruises on his arms, his hair a bit messier than he assumed was normal. He frowned. "My name is Stanford," He offered, if only to appear more welcoming. "If you need any help, I'm willing to assist." He said.

"I know your name," Bill snapped back, despite his tone being quieter than usual.

Ford was taken aback. He narrowed his eyes slightly. "You do?" He questioned. Now he was skeptical. "Who are you? Give me a name."

Bill shook his head. "I can't do that." He replied.

There was something about the other's voice that gave Ford a feeling of unease. It seemed familiar. His mind tried pushing away the possibilities he didn't want to think up, but he just couldn't let them go. He was suspicious.

"Look at me." Ford commanded.

Again the blonde shook his head. He could sense the scientist's suspicion towards him. Why else would he ask such a thing? "I don't know you," Bill lied, turning around and shoving his hands into his black jean pockets. At this point he'd completely forgotten about the thing he'd been chasing. He just wanted to get away. He looked behind him for all but a second. "Get off my back, Sixer." He spat before walking off. He noticed his mistake of word choice a moment too late. With a gasp, he covered his mouth.

Ford's blinked twice before his expression turned to a glare. He put his car keys into his left pant pocket, clenching his fists and following the supposed stranger. Bill picked up his speed to no avail when he smacked into a light post- again. He growled and cursed the metal, going to move around it. But before Bill knew it, a strong hand gripped his shoulder. Bill gasped before Stanford shoved him up against the store's plain beige painted wall. Ford gripped his shoulder with one hand, his other clenching onto his blonde head of hair, lifting his face up towards him. Oh yes, he recognized this person. If he could even call him that. The voice, the attitude, all too familiar. And the eyes... despite there being two on him now instead of one, Ford couldn't mistake the evil behind them.

"You must think me a fool," Ford growled.

The look in his eyes was to the point where Bill legitimately wondered if the author was going to hurt him. After everything between them in the past, and the occurrences of the summer, he couldn't blame the man. Bill cringed at the hard grip on his head of hair, but still shook his head.

"You weren't expecting to get by clean, were you?" Ford asked.

Bill didn't want anything to do with Ford. And with the obvious physical advantage the author had against him, he just wanted to get away. "Look, I won't cause trouble, just- let go of me!" Bill said, squirming effortlessly in the other's hold.

"Hah! You'd like that." Ford sneered.

Bill stopped squirming and stared at the other for a second, looking away before quickly looking back. "Yes." He agreed.

"Well-" Ford stopped. There was a momentary pause, a bird's chirp being heard from afar. Ford glared back at the demon. "Too bad!" He shouted, his grip on the other's hair increasing. Bill cringed again.

"Get away from me!" The shorter yelled. He tried kicking his legs to almost no avail.

"I want answers!" Ford shouted.

"Just leave me be, Pines! I've got nothin' to say to you." Bill stated.

Ford glared back at him. "I'd like nothing more than to have you out of my sight, but I'm not leaving until you give me a damn good explanation." He bellowed.

"What do you wanna know, huh?" Bill asked, mirroring his glare. "You won," He growled. "You all won! Ya' tricked me, and it worked!" He said, his glare turning into a grin. Before Ford knew it, the demon was laughing. "And you know the funny thing about that?" He asked, his laughter only increasing. "It's that I thought- I thought- finding my way out of your brothers' big head would fix my problems!" He cackled. Ford held back his physical shiver at the all too familiar laugh, but still felt the hair at the back of his neck rise.

The blonde continued. "But it didn't. Of course it didn't! No, now i'm stuck here, just like you, like him, like them! Just like every other meatsack in this hick town!" He laughed at the irony of it all. "Alone by myself, worthless." He proceeded. His grin dropped. "Just like your stupid family." He grumbled.

Ford shook his head and sneered at the man, his blood boiling. His hand left the other's shoulder and instead gave the blonde a hard clock to the side of his face. Bill's eyes widened at the action and responded with a mix of a groan and laugh. Ford narrowed his eyes in disgust as the laugh took over.

"Oh, bad demon!" Bill said with a faux pout. He glanced at the scientist with the same look. "Did I hurt poor Fordsy's feelings?" He asked.

It took nearly all Ford's self-control not to go back at him with his fist; relentlessly. He glared at the other. "I'd watch who you're talking to if I were you." He stated, his brows furrowing when he saw Bill roll his eyes in response. He brought his hand up to the blonde's face, clenching the sides of his cheeks and yanking his face closer. Bill inhaled sharply and the author leaned over slightly to get on eye level with him. "And don't you ever use family on me." He bellowed in a firm tone that even intimidated Bill.

The door's bell to the shop dinged, and the two turned to look at it, Ford removing his hand from the other's face. Stan rushed out of the building and grabbed a stray piece of money that was rolling up into the air from off the concrete sidewalk. He grinned at the money and inserted it into his suit pocket before walking back into the building.

Bill's eye twitched at seeing his only reason for being in this mess taken away from his clutches. "Oh, come on!" He cried out, throwing his arms out towards the direction Stan had just been in. Ford raised an eyebrow in the same direction before looking back at the other man with furrowed brows.

"You need to tell me what all of this is. The truth." Ford started, putting his hands on the blonde's shoulders.

"What're you talking about?" Bill asked.

Ford narrowed his eyes. "This- You! What happened?" He asked. In a more bitter tone he added, "We got rid of you." With a glare following.

"I... don't know," Bill started.

"Do you expect me to believe that?" Ford asked. "Don't act dumb with me, you're hiding something. What's going on?" He proceeded. "You really do think me a fool, don't you?"

"Of course, but that doesn't matter right now." Bill replied. He scowled. "I didn't want to confront anyone, especially not you, but if you're so curious then I'll tell you how it is." He grumbled. Ford kept his brows furrowed, but said nothing. Bill folded his arms and looked away from the other. "I need help." He muttered.

"Don't come to me with that bullshit." Ford growled.

Bill glared at his reaction. "It's the truth!" He said, despite his pride kicking at him.

"And why the hell would you need my help?" Ford asked, scowling at the blonde.

"Because, don't you get it? All of this is new to me," Bill said. "I've only ever used this type of vessel for short amounts of time! Can you think of one time that I possessed your meatsack for more than a day?" He asked. "I'd be in and out, sure, but I've never had to care about the whole 'staying alive' part of living." He said.

"One step at a time, figure it out." Ford replied through gritted teeth.

Bill didn't respond to this, and he just stared at the other. After a moment his eyes narrowed slightly. "You're not gonna help me, are you?" He asked.

"You shouldn't be surprised," Ford replied. "And you damn well shouldn't be expecting I take in your sorry ass." He grumbled.

"Not even an old friend?" Bill asked.

For a moment, Ford stopped. Bill raised an eyebrow slightly. Ford shook away whatever train of thought he had during the silence. He scowled at the blonde. "We weren't friends." He grumbled, teeth clenched. He huffed. "Not after what you did."

"I did what I had to do," Bill said with a shrug.

"You betrayed me!" Ford shouted. Bill jolted at the sudden raise of voice. He was met with a fierce glare. "You betrayed me, my trust, and my-" He continued, but paused. His hands clenched around the blondes shoulders before he released the grip, letting them fall to his sides. He released a heavy sigh and broke the eye contact. "Go." He commanded, his voice hushed to a mutter.

Bill was taken aback for a few different reasons. "What-?"

"Go! Figure out your own problems!" Ford demanded, glaring back at him fiercely.

Bill's hands shook slightly. He had a look somewhat displaying desperation behind his eyes, and took a half step forward. "Ford-"

"Get out of here!" He shouted, clenching his fists. He held one fist up to the other, making it known that he wouldn't hesitate. Bill inched back from the step he'd taken at sight of the threat. He shook slightly, but rushed off, running back the way he came from. He rounded the sidewalk's corner and dashed along the side of the building. Whether it was anger, frustration, or dare he say desperation, he couldn't tell. His heart raced within his chest, and he put a hand over his torso at feeling a pulsing coming from it. He wasn't sure exactly where he was going while his thoughts were taking over those senses, he just knew by instinct to get away from the former.

Ford huffed, his chest rising and falling. He couldn't deal with this. Not now. Things were finally running smoothly, as normal as they could be in the odd town his family sheltered.

He despised how foolish he'd been. After Weirdmageddon, after things had begun to seem safe, he'd let his guard down. Hell, he didn't even have a weapon on him today. He'd left his lab coat, his gun, all of those things back at the shack. Perhaps that had been a mistake. If he'd brought a gun with him, he could have simply shot the blonde. He'd be dead for sure then, and all would be okay. For the most part.

He would be a murderer.

Despite his best efforts, to everyone else Bill was a regular citizen, he must be. Without a doubt he'd surely caused some trouble, but not enough that he'd been mentioned anywhere public like the news. Were Ford to rid of him, especially in a public setting, he'd be a criminal on Earth as well. With that, and with his age, he may never be able to be with his family again. Not more than with walls and screens between them. Were they to come back in the summers he wouldn't get to watch them grow up. He couldn't kill Bill. Either way his family was big on his mind.

Ford shook his head. "I can't deal with this right now." He muttered to himself. With a sigh, he turned beside him and walked to the door of the shop. He couldn't say he was surprised when Stan was back at the counter, ordering something 'to go'.

Meanwhile, Bill's lungs were flaring. He wasn't used to all the physical activity on foot, especially after previously chasing after the dollar. When he felt his body about to give out he slowed to a walk. After a bit he stopped in his place. Bill put his hands in his hair, frustrated, and kicked the nearest light pole with his foot multiple times. The pain felt good, it felt good to get his emotions out and take it out on public property. He put his hands in his pockets and walked away, his head filling with nothing but hate of himself and Ford. He screamed at himself in his head, and headed to a corner of the next street. He couldn't survive on his own. He knew that, despite him being too stubborn to admit that much.


The Pines walked out of the donut shop. Three of the four seemed to be in a good mood. Stanley noticed his brother's downcast expression and motioned for the kids to get in the car. The two complied and went ahead of the older twins. When Dipper and Mabel had shut their car doors, Stanley leaned over by Ford and looked at him.

"Hey, Poindexter." Stan began to get his brother's attention.

Ford looked back at him and stopped. Stan copied his halt. Stan looked beside and behind himself first.

"What is it, Stanley?" Ford questioned, noticing his unusual behavior. Unless he'd robbed the shop like he had the grocery store a week before, he wasn't sure what Stan was thinking.

Speaking in a muttered tone to stay on the safe side, he started by looking at his twin with a raised brow. "What was all that about?" He asked.

Ford's breath hitched slightly. He didn't want to cause Stan alarm. He gulped. "What do you mean?"

"You know," Stan said with furrowed brows.

"I don't." Ford replied. A half lie.

Stan rolled his eyes. "You were out here for a while." He reminded. "You were buggin' some guy, too. Weren'tcha?" He continued.

Ford paused before giving an awkward chuckle. He scratched the back of his neck. "Ah yes, that," He started. Stan narrowed his eyes slightly. Ford tried to ignore the look. "There was a younger man, he... tried to pickpocket me." He lied. If there wasn't a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face, he knew at least something negative to what he was trying to convince his twin rested on his face.

Stan scowled. "That's it?" He asked, not exactly in disbelief, just... confusion.

"Well... yes," Ford confirmed, clearing his throat. "Are you doubting that?" He asked. He knew that lying wasn't his strong-suit, not under pressure.

Stan shrugged. "I guess not," He replied. "Didja' give 'im hell?" He asked with a mischievous grin.

Ford gave a false smile in return. "I suppose so." He replied.

Stan laughed and gave him a light punch on the arm. "Ya' may be stupid enough to not notice things like that, Sixer, but they won't get away so easy when they do try somethin' on ya'." He said, walking off to the car.

Ford processed the sentence for a moment before scowling at his twin as he walked away. "I would notice." He claimed, following behind Stan to the car.

Lots of drama! Do you think Ford will change his mind? Will Bill go trying to find him? Many outcome possibilities. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the story so far!