A single steel bullet cut through the air like a knife through warm butter. It flew straight for its target, eager to finally hit it.

It didn't have to wait long to fulfil its job.

Finally it hit its target, piercing a hole in their chest. The warm blood dribbled out, and muscles encased it.

The bullet dug deeper, and eventually settled halfway through the heart.


Tourist bus at six o'clock! What a jackpot! The Mystery Shack hadn't had this big a feast for a while, and now it was time for it to feed on the green tourist bounty.

Stan had volunteered to lead the tours, since he was a professional at drawing money away from ignorant tourists and wanted to feel some nostalgia from his old job. To everyone's surprise however, Ford agreed to perform alongside his brother. Since Stanley and Stanford were identical twins, all they had to do was dress the same way and nobody could tell them apart. So, to confuse the living daylights out of the tourists, both Ford and Stan dressed up as Mr. Mystery, so that the same man could be in two places at once. That was sure to keep their audience entertained.

Meanwhile Soos took to fixing a leak in the gift shop's microphone system, the one that was used to make announcements throughout the shack. Soos decided that he was going to double as a repair guy and the shack's boss, which was going surprisingly well. Wendy still worked as the cashier, with significantly higher pay than when Stan was boss. Though it was not much, the redhead was was satisfied that she had a few more dollars to spend on insignificant things like fireworks and prank supplies so she could pull off more stunts with her group.

It appeared to be a great day, sunny sky with little to no clouds, at least thirty degrees heat in Celsius, where the forest life around the shack seemed to thrive now more than ever. A successful day at that, since Stan had hopped into the tourist train and lead a group to the cavern of amber-encased dinosaurs, which had been made into a legit extension of the Mystery Shack, now that Soos was in charge. The ones that have gotten out were let into the wild and never seen again. Meanwhile at the exact same time Ford took another band of tourists to the rim of the forest surrounding the shack, no doubt rambling on about the many scary creatures that lurked in such places. Nobody fully believed what Ford said, but he always spoke with such a passion about the subject that some took his words as fact, though always it was only for a split second before common sense convinced them otherwise.

So while the older Pines twins were out busy with their double-act, the gift shop was empty.

Well, almost. Wendy sat at the counter, lazily reading the "Avoid Eye-Contact" magazine, not bothering to rake the long red hair out of her face. Soos worked steadily at the microphone, humming the new summer-hit under his breath, mumbling a few words here and there. All seemed normal for the two proper workers at the Mystery Shack, and for that moment it seemed as if time had rewound itself to the previous year, a time where things were... different, yet would they classify it as better? Nobody could really tell. This summer was just as, or perhaps more peaceful. There was the occasional incident with the supernatural, just last week they've had gnomes wandering into the shack and they had to pull out leaf-blowers to get them away. Those were the good times.

The boombox next to Wendy was playing a catchy tune, the one which Soos was singing along to quietly. But for everything that seemed normal, there was one little thing.

While anybody who watched the Pines family, bondage or blood, would not see, at first, that there was something missing from the scene. But the longer you looked, then you would start to realise that two crucial people were missing.

One of them was physically not present, the other couldn't be counted as the same person anymore.

Those of course were the younger Pines twins, the brown-haired, brown-eyed, born of August's end boy and girl who made their way into the townsfolk's hearts. Their last year's heroism had become known throughout the town, and their faces were welcomed willingly around the area. Children would point at them and cheer their names, recognising the twins from the family that was responsible for saving them from demon wrath. In irony, the now-thirteen-year-olds were more known and better respected than the former celebrity of Gideon Gleeful, who in turn had tried to destroy them.

But now, every person in the town; man, woman, child, knew of the fate that had come upon the Mystery Twins. A tremor had gone through the people of Gravity Falls, the news of Bill Cipher's return and abduction of Dipper Pines had spread like wildfire. All were on the prowl for golden eyes, ready to raise the alarm shall the demon show his new mortal face in the town. They knew Dipper Pines, closely or at least by sight, so his disappearance was upsetting to all.

But nobody was as distressed as his twin sister.

As stated before, the twin sister couldn't be counted as the same person anymore.

It was her fault Bill Cipher was back. It was her fault that the last year's danger was once again on the loose. It was her fault Dipper was gone. A permanent lump of guilt had formed in her throat, not letting her swallow it down.

I'd leave him alone if I were you, we have to get going.

Paranoid!

If only she hadn't been so stubborn and eager to prove herself as brave. The only thing she accomplished in proving to her brother was how unbelievably stupid she really was.

What do you think will happen if I shake his hand?

Mabel are you out of your mind!?

If only she had listened to Dipper's wise words then none of this would've happened. He had warned her. He had told her, begged her even, to leave that wretched statue alone and come back home before the thunderstorm, but had she listened?

At least their blood connection had eased her just a small bit. It proved that her brother was still breathing, still alive. But even that had began to fade. Those dreams she had, those ones that felt like real life, the ones that were caused by Dipper's blood in her veins, she rarely had those anymore. And the gap between them was getting bigger. When she asked Ford about it, he had provided the answer, but it wasn't the one she had hoped for.

"The foreign blood had began to accept your cells," the old man had said. "They had forgotten Dipper's organism and had accepted yours as their new home. It appears your blood had accepted Dipper's body in turn too. The connection is fading."

Their blood E.S.P was fading. So was Mabel's hope.

But three days ago Dipper had phoned home, and Mabel's heart had lifted for that moment. His voice was still cracking, deepening and then rising, zigzagging up and down the scale like a crow having a fit. Stan and Soos and Wendy had let the phone ring the first three times, and each were shocked to hear that Dipper had somehow gotten hold of a payphone.

His voice was like honey to Mabel's ears, as if someone had put numbing herbs on an open wound. His words were woven together so well they might as well have been wicker, intertwining in baskets of sentences that calmed Mabel more than anyone before or after him could ever manage.

Not Wendy. Not Soos. Not Pacifica. Not Candy of Grenda. Not Ford. Not even Stan.

He was alive, well and speaking, and more concerned for his sister than for himself. He had told her that he too was okay, and unfortunately stuck with Bill.

But the happiness was short-lived. He had begun to stammer and panic, saying quickly that he had to go because something bad had happened to someone called Primrose. Before Mabel could finish her objection, her brother had hung up, leaving behind only a constant beeping noise.

In that moment Mabel could hear how his voice had transferred from upbeat with relief to fearful worry in a matter of seconds. Ever since that call, she had been feeling threatened by everyone around her.

Stan learned that first-hand when he asked Mabel if she wanted a second helping of pancakes, where she screamed in fright and shuffled to get away from him as if he were some predator. She only calmed down when Stan talked some sense into her and recalled her from whatever vivid hallucination she'd been having.

Mabel was sat curled up in the circle that sold t-shirts, hiding behind the cloth so that nobody could see her. She had hid in clothes racks when she was smaller, hiding from the adults with Dipper in a childish game of hide-and-seek. Now though, she wanted to escape from everything, not a sound emerging from her.

This was not normal behaviour for Mabel Pines. Anybody who was close with her knew her for her hyperactive, happy personality and optimism.

Why should she feel happy? She single-handedly caused her brother to be put in grave danger, while she got to stay within the walls of the Mystery Shack. He was in danger, she could feel it. Ford might've told her the connection was dying, but it wasn't dead yet. Dipper was hunted. By who? She didn't know, but she would be willing to bet her life it was Bill who was the threat to her younger-by-five-minutes brother.

Eventually her depression grasped the concern of the other two present in the room with her. Wendy and Soos looked at each other, and silently agreed to at least try to cheer the sad girl up. Granted they had tried to lift her spirits for the entirety of Dipper's disappearance with no success, but it didn't do harm to try again right?

So Wendy cupped her hands around her mouth and raised her voice to shout "wormy dance!"

The moment Wendy's words had left her mouth, Soos left his work and got down on his massive belly to start dancing to the beat of the music. Hoping to draw Mabel out of the ring of clothes, Wendy started to chant 'go' multiple times, cheering Soos on.

But the two had stopped awkwardly once they realised that Mabel had not reacted. She hadn't even rustled the clothes surrounding her, just stayed deathly still like a stone statue, where ironically all her problems had come from.

"Mabel are you joining the party?" Wendy asked her directly, though she already knew the answer.

"No, I'm good," came the girl's quiet reply. "You guys party without me."

"Cheer up Mabel," Soos put in. "Dipper's alive, that's good news!"

Mabel didn't reply. Something was wrong, and everything around her was threatening. She did feel guilty for being frightened of Stan earlier today, but how could she stop herself? Her heart beat rapidly, pumping adrenalin through her body so she could chose fight or flight in a matter of moments. Just for what? Where was the threat she was so scared of? There was not a sign of the mystical creatures from the forest in quite a couple of days.

The FBI government guys were gone. Pacifica Northwest was a friend. Gideon Gleeful had snapped out of his vengeance. All of their enemies were no more.

Except for one.

But Bill was with Dipper. The boy told her it himself, and there was no lie in his voice. If Dipper was lying, Mabel would know. His voice always altered when he lied, Mabel knew that. Thankfully Mabel just made a suspicious face when she was lying, and faces couldn't be projected over the phone.

So if Bill was with Dipper, and all the other enemies from the previous year were reformed or taken care of, who did that leave?

What was Mabel so subconsciously scared of?

"At least can you come out of there?" Soos requested shyly, careful with his wording shall Mabel have another panic attack. "It'll do you no good if you stay cooped up in there all the time."

"Fine," grumbled she, crawling reluctantly out of her comfort zone to sit down on the counter miserably. Soos and Wendy watched her as she did so, careful not to look at each other. The unthinkable had happened- Mabel had gone depressed.

Even in the time of the apocalypse Mabel was a role model for them all, the optimist who knitted colourful sweaters and spoke encouraging words from the heart and was an inspiration for all. Even in the darkest hours, she was bouncy and happy and determined to keep up hope and high spirit. She was the one to recover Stan's memory with her scrapbook. She got the idea from her positive thinking, and saved countless lives on numerous occasions that way. She was a hero, willing without hesitation to help other get back up on their feet.

Now though none of that was shown in her. She was terrified of the world around her, devoid of all hope and no words of encouragement leaving her tongue.

"Do you want an ice cream?" Wendy offered, but Mabel shook her head and silently stared at the blue and white pine tree hats Stan had put for sale.

Dipper had worn that hat the entire summer, the previous and this one. It was why Dipper was the Pine Tree, wasn't it? Or was the wheel another conspiracy that Great Uncle Ford would not share? Mabel didn't know and didn't care. Those hats were Dipper's, that's all she remembered.

She could imagine him standing there, smiling widely at her, the familiar hat sitting calmly atop his head. Why couldn't that be a reality?

Soos sighed and got back to work, realising that cheering Mabel up was a lost cause. Wendy wanted to attempt another try at making the girl at least lift the corners of her mouth, but decided against it. How can you cheer up someone who doesn't want to be cheered up?

A few more minutes passed in complete silence. The music played in the background, but none of the three spoke a word to each other, each lost in their own thoughts.

But then something happened. A loud boom tore through the gift shop, so loud it might as well have come from the outside. Was Stan setting off illegal fireworks off the top of the Mystery Shack again? No, it couldn't be it, Stan was with a tour.

Mabel screamed in fright when she heard the noise, a jolt sending a nasty shock through her adrenalin-overdosed heart. Her hands shot to her mouth, and she had begun to tremble all over.

Then she realised Soos and Wendy were looking at her confused.

"Didn't you hear it?" Mabel asked, panicking like crazy. "That loud noise!"

"Your scream?" Soos guessed.

It took Mabel a while to realise that the two had no clue what she was overreacting about. They heard no boom.

"I'm not hallucinating!" Mabel insisted, though Wendy and Soos didn't look convinced. To them, Mabel was desperate for any sort of lead to Dipper.

"Mabel," Wendy said softly. "Mr. Ford said your connection with Dipper was dead."

"Dying!" Mabel corrected her swiftly. "Something's exploded where Dipper is!"

But Soos had spotted other things. He wanted to ease off the situation, so he tried to draw attention to something else.

"Mabel you've something spilled on your sweater."

Mabel looked down, and surely, there was a huge red stain on the yellow wool directly over her heart.


The Cursed Chain was a complex curse not known to many people. A complicated curse that bound two individuals together by an unbreakable force, yet allowed them to do great things together.

Bill and Dipper had no experience in using their curse as an advantage, for they had just put it to good use now. However the curse knew exactly what to do.

Before Bill could hesitate, he had gone with Dipper's crazy plan. The Pine Tree most likely didn't know what the consequences were of using the chain as a weapon were, but at least it wasn't anything serious.

Bill had watched the curse's doings on other people, and laughed when they struggled with it. It was mighty entertaining to watch mortals fight an unfightable electric chain. Just that karma had come down to haunt him. Bill never thought he would be affected by that very same, tedious and annoying curse. And he had to admit he was surprised at how the curse's affects actually felt like.

The moment he and Dipper had begun to move in unison, the affects of the curse kicked in like medicine. Their minds had blended, and allowed them to function as a single being. Whatever Bill told Dipper to do, Dipper did. Whatever Dipper told Bill to do, Bill did. There was no hesitation, no words spoken between them. Their minds had somehow connected, and communicated together telepathically, not with words, but with instinct.

The mind-bond was broken once they had stopped fighting, snapping the two out of their trance and the chain once more faded into nothingness.

How strange, perhaps Bill had more in common with the youngster than he first thought.

They wasted no time. In a few moments they reached the turning wheel and tugged at it with all their might. The gateway out of hell was open. Their way to freedom and safety was free.

Now, where was that dragon? Dipper had began to run, so Bill followed him, his one eye scanning through the flames, hoping to catch a glimmer of Primrose's bright amber scales.

There she was, fighting like she'd never fought before, talons unsheathed to their fullest and dragonfire shooting out of open jaws.

Then Bill heard the gunshot. He had not heard a sound like that in a very long time, so he was confused on what he should do. The flames and smoke and rising heat around him disoriented him a little, so did the fast movements of two-legged predators around them. Inspecting himself, Bill looked to see whether he had been wounded from the gunshot, but found no trace of blood aside from the one coming from his already bleeding eye.

So next his eye darted to their dragon mother, who had not even taken into account the loud noise, and continued to wage war against their captors, roaring with her mouth hinged like a snake's.

Then Bill looked at his companion, and despite the heat of the flaming battlefield, his whole body went ice-cold.

The boy he had grown to know was looking down at his hands, which in turn were bright red. He then looked at himself. Bill followed his eyes, and saw the bullet wound shot into his chest. The red t-shirt masked the blood a little, but it didn't do a very good job of it.

Bill wanted to run, but his legs wouldn't move. He wanted to yell but no sound came from him, not even a gasp. He wanted to wake up from this awful nightmare but this was no dream. This was real life.

The brown-eyed boy exhaled a long breath, then fell backwards as his eyelids closed over his eyes. He collapsed, limp and lifeless, nothing but a bloody, tattered mess.

A loud shriek of terror tore through the heat of battle, and Bill was not aware of where it came from until he realised that his own mouth was open. His legs finally gave in and allowed him to run over to the boy, falling to his knees by his side.

"Pine Tree!" he gasped at him, shaking him to make him wake up. "Stop pretending that you're sleeping! Wake up goddammit!"

But the boy would not wake, his head had lolled back, and his eyes would not open. Panic soon began to rise in Bill's chest, as he realised that he did not know what to do. So he called the one other person who might.

"PRIMROSE!"

Bill was barely aware of the thundering footsteps, hardly hearing them over the rapid beating of his own heart.

"Pine Tree wake the fuck up!" Bill yelled at him, a curse making its way into his words. Bill cursed when he was scared, and he didn't like it. So he took the limp boy into his arms and pressed him tightly against himself, just now aware that he was surrounded.

Not by fire, but by predators.

"Oh, how sad," the leader said, taking a step forward. There was no empathy in his voice, only a dark, cold sneer. "Shoot one of them, the other goes down too. That's how partners work, and it truly was your downfall."

Bill could only give the surrounding men the dirtiest, most furious look his could muster. Though he didn't want to admit it, he recognised this behaviour. He'd behaved exactly like this when Weirdmaggeddon was unleashed. That was a scary realisation.

"Now, would you kindly hand over that dead friend of yours?" asked the leader, squatting down at Bill's level and outstretching his hand towards him. "He has no use to you anymore, but he could still serve us great things and- YEOOW!"

Bill had lunged forward and bit the monster's hand as hard as he could. He sunk his hard teeth into the skin, tasting blood and only released when he felt his teeth scrape against bone. As Bill spat out the metallic-tasting liquid that dribbled into his mouth, a crescendo of a scream rose that Bill knew the owner of. So when the men looked about in confusion, Bill got his head down and shielded himself and the fallen boy.

Surely enough, if Bill had been sitting up for two more seconds he would've had his head burned off. He could feel the explosion of dragonfire near him, drawing out cries of agony from the predators. Let them burn.

Bill raised his head, and called the dragon's name to get her attention. Primrose turned her green gaze towards him, and for a moment Bill's heart stopped.

She was looking at them like a snake at a mouse.

"Crescent Moon!" Bill called her again, and thankfully the dragon blinked and got the murderous glint out of her eyes. Though she couldn't get rid of the red blood on her teeth or the rags between her talons. She padded carefully up them, then stumbled when she noticed what had happened to Dipper.

She at first looked confused, then terrified, so much so that a quiet wail escaped from her. She lowered herself down and snapped at Bill to saddle on her back.

Bill didn't need to be told twice. He took the young boy bridal-style and quickly stepped over the dragoness to sit just before her wings.

And so Primrose bounded forward in an awful limping run caused by her broken hind leg, but fast nonetheless. She was heading straight for the opening where the cold was drowned out by the inside fire.

Bill hazard a look back, and saw that once again the men were closing the gate. "Run!" he shouted in panic. His yell seemed to electrify Primrose, for she put on a great burst of speed towards the lowering gate.

Almost there. Bill could feel his blood pumping in his ears, his heart beating so hard it could very well jump out of his chest at any moment.

As they got to the gate, the iron gate was already falling. No, they couldn't turn back now, they needed to get out. Now.

So Primrose ducked and snaked below the rapidly closing gate, and leaped out excitedly, but gave a roar of agony when she violently stopped, almost sending Bill over her head.

Her tail had got caught on the gate.

"Oh no," Bill breathed as he lay the boy on the dragon's steady back and jumped off. The men behind were already celebrating, steadily running towards them, their faces illuminated by the flames and their beady black eyes burning.

Primrose's arrow-tipped tail didn't manage to make it past the gate in time, so it had gotten pinned in one of the bottom squares, unable to get out thanks to the large arrow.

Time was running out, the men were closing in.

Bill's mind had gone numb, so he went with the single, most dumb idea he could ever possibly have.

His hands curled round the barred gate and he attempted to lift it. But even his abnormal strength was not enough. But then Primrose stood at his side, her own paws put under the iron and both began to heave.

It took them a few tries to muster their strength together to even lift the iron barred gate a few inches. But a few inches was enough. Primrose yanked her tail out from under the gate, once again free.

However the men had already got to them. Bill leapt back away from the gate in the nick of time as a massive hand stretched through one of the openings to claw at the air just before Bill's face.

Thankfully Bill didn't let himself hesitate for long. Once again leaping onto Primrose's back, he got a tight hold of the boy and they were once again fleeing from the shouts of the men behind, calling to raise the gate so that they could give chase.

But by that point Primrose was already running at full pelt along the tunnel, which tilted upwards towards the surface. The cool wind blew welcomingly at them, offering the cool-down from the looming corridors.

Eventually Primrose emerged into a busted living room of a destroyed house.

Destroyed house...?

That town! Those murderous dungeons were down below that abandoned town!

Primrose hadn't wasted time. She had leapt through the already broken window, and into the shady town where they had been captured.

The sky was grey and rain was falling heavily down in massive droplets. The wind howled and the smell of freshness drifted towards them.

But they weren't safe yet. The men would pursue them shortly. So before they stalled too long, Primrose unfurled her wings and leapt towards the sky.

The orange dragoness had attempted to fly with the two two-legs on her back once before, and didn't manage to carry all three of them into air. But fact was, both Bill and Dipper had drastically lost weight during their journey, but Primrose had not. A dragon was used to living in the wild, replenishing what she needed and was used to travelling great distances.

So Primrose's wings beat the gale as she managed to lift them slightly above the trees and engaged with a wild battle against the rain.

They were finally free, leaving the treacherous town, the awful dungeons and terrifying predator people behind.

But was the price to pay too high?

The beat of Primrose's wings was calming. Beat... Beat... Beat... Bill had never ridden upon a dragon's back before, and he just wished this experience had been in better conditions than this. Running away from horrible people, with Dipper's limp body bleeding in his arms, in the pouring rain. The rain soaked through his skin, making him shiver in the wind. He looked up, and noticed the hill they had watched the sunset oh so long ago, back when the most dangerous things were food poisoning and a mere wildfire. Though the oh-so-faraway hill was barely visible through the rain, Bill thought he saw the dark figures of two boys and a dragon standing atop the hill.

The ex-demon shook his head, scattering water droplets from his golden hair like some long-furred dog, but it was useless for in a few moments he was soaked by the rain again. He tried shaking his head again, but he found that this time it was half-heartedly, as if to only distract himself.

For a few more minutes Primrose flew, her legs sometimes catching on the highest branches from the extra weight. She growled softly to the boy atop her back, looking slightly back at him.

"We have to get out of the rain," Bill mumbled to her, patting her neck gently with a free hand. "Do you know a place? Aside from that terrifying town?"

For an answer Primrose folded her wings and dived below the canopy, causing Bill's lower organs to come up to his throat. His golden hair was blown back out of his face, and he clutched on for dear life.

Outstretching her legs, Primrose landed into a run, slowing down to a jog, then a walk.

And she continued to walk for a while longer through the dense plants before she came upon a slight hill. She jumped over to the other side, which revealed a dark cave open like a hungry mouth, lichen hanging over the entrance like a curtain. Primrose wasted no time and pushed through the lichen and into the cave.

But it was not just an empty cave like Bill had expected it to be. There was an extinguished campfire in the middle, and an elevated bit of rock like stairs lined one side of the cave, where moss hung from the edge.

Primrose sat down, and Bill slipped off her back, still holding Dipper's body close to himself. The dragoness padded over to the higher level to grab some of the moss, not even stopping to shake the water from her scales. As Bill trembled on his feet, Primrose made a nest of moss next to the wood, sticks and cinders. So Bill lay the limp boy on the bed of moss while Primrose coughed and the campfire was once again set ablaze.

This was Primrose's home.

But neither Bill or Primrose sat to rest. The dragoness shook herself dry, then opened her mouth and blew warm air at the two boys, drying them off like a living hairdryer. In a few moments the two were dry once more. The boy dipped his head in thanks, then turned his attention to Dipper.

They needed to do something!

In that moment Bill made a split second decision. He sat down beside him, and raised his hand over the wound. If Dipper was to survive, they needed to get the bullet out of his heart.

Once again Bill focused his power, and Dipper flinched. It was one of the powers Bill could still perform, about as difficult as making his hat and cane appear, so it was not a problem. The ex-demon focused, and the Pine Tree gasped in his unconsciousness as the bullet burst free back out of the wound and into Bill's already bloodstained hand.

However that only caused the wound to bleed more.

"Oh no!" Bill cried, only realising now that one of Dipper's most vital organs were fatally damaged. The boy was going to die. The panic once again rose in Bill's chest. He threw the wretched bullet away to the side and looked up at Primrose with fearful eyes. "How do you heal a damaged heart?" he asked her urgently.

But for once, the one who had guided them through the unknown, been their steed in times of need and helped them when they needed it, didn't know how to help. She wanted to, but what use was she if she had no idea how to heal an organ? She had healed her own, shallow wound from the hunter trap with just her saliva alone, but there were no vital functions that were damaged. Dipper had been shot through the heart.

A nasty chill of fear went through Bill's entire body as Primrose shook her head sadly. "There has to be a way!" he wailed at her, a new tone to his voice which he had never heard himself use before. "Pine Tree can't die!"

Though the dragoness shivered at his desperate tone, she hung her head and couldn't look him in the eye.

Time was running out, Dipper's heart beat slower every second.

Perhaps Bill could reach out to his demon powers once more, like he did back into those dungeons? A demon could cause harm, but could heal as well...

Though it would be impossible. Bill had never healed anyone before in his entire life, even as a demon, so how was his weaker form supposed to handle an unfamiliar reach of his power when even making his cane and hat appear was like running a marathon?

It didn't matter. Bill had to try. If Dipper died at his hands, he didn't know what he would do with himself.

So Bill placed a shaking hand over the wound and felt the warm blood against his fingers. Focus...

For the first few moments nothing happened. Come on Bill, you should know how to do this, the ex-demon told himself. He reached further into his mind, and discomfort started to gnaw at his fingertips, where the output was supposed to gather. Yet nothing of value was happening. At least it was a sign that Bill was on the right track.

Eventually discomfort turned to pain, and pain turned to agony. His one eye tightly closed and his teeth gritted together, he reached even further. Though it felt like the staircase he was trying to climb was getting longer and longer and the ball and chain was getting heavier and heavier. Still nothing.

Perhaps such a weakling as a human could not physically perform such magic? Perhaps the Shooting Star was too weak to be able to grant the power of saving someone's life?

No, Bill had to do this. There was no such thing as impossible, only improbable.

But would the agony be too much for Bill to bare? His bones were snapping, his muscles were tearing, his blood was on fire.

The golden boy had begun to shake uncontrollably, unable to reach the power necessary to heal the fallen's heart. The human boy had saved Bill's life countless of times before.

Spared him even though Bill was a threat... Woke everyone up when the wildfire took place... Pulled him to the surface when he was about to drown... Gave him charcoal on multiple occasions to help with his food poisoning... Protected him from the predator in the mirror-room... Stopped the blood loss from his cut-out eye...

And Bill couldn't even save his life once. How pathetic.

A demon may rig their deals, may not even fulfil their end of the bargain. But for once Bill felt the need to repay his dept. He couldn't allow the boy to die, not after all they've been through.

He was alive and standing a few moments before, fighting with him...

With one final reach Bill's fingertips erupted with a golden glow. Though it only lasted a mere moment. The agony was too much for Bill to bare.

His eye opened wearily, yet his vision was clouded by black and white spots. The surge of power vanished gradually from his body as Bill collapsed next to his fallen comrade, loosing his sense of consciousness.


Though it wasn't for long. Bill opened his eye once again and sat up groggily, as if waking up from a bad dream. Had he done it?

His senses cleared, and the sight was not what he had hoped for.

Dipper was still in a coma-state, chest faintly falling and rising. But fortunately the guide had taken things into her own paws.

She had began to lap at the wound with her tongue, just as she had done with her own injuries. The dragon's saliva had incredible anti-bacterial properties after all, and it cleaned away the blood that had been spilled. Though the blood was still escaping from the bullet-hole.

Even Bill's demon healing was not enough. Perhaps it was because he was too weak- his attempt hadn't healed the boy completely.

He could still die.

What did Dipper do when Bill had his eye cut out by the switchblade? Covered it up with a makeshift bandage to stop blood from escaping.

Though what could they use as a bandage that was big enough to wrap around the boy's chest?

The ex-demon's hands untied his bow-tie- a long strip of black fabric, perfect for wrapping around things.

With Primrose's help, the two managed to wrap the bandage once around Dipper's chest, closing the wound and preventing more blood loss.

But what different could it make now? The boy had already lost a lot of blood. Though his heart was mostly healed, the bullet was safely out and the wound bandaged, the boy was still limp and lifeless.

Pain pounded in Bill's head, still from the attempt at healing magic, so Bill lay down on the soft moss again, panting for the sweet-tasting forest air. Breathing was kinda nice... as a floating triangle he didn't breathe, and didn't know such things at how fresh the air could taste if they were in the middle of a forest, or how painful it was if it was smoke-infested like it was when the forest was burning. He closed his eye for a moment, imagining the pretty sunset they had watched atop that hill.

Suddenly he felt his bandage being ripped right off his head. He flinched and tried to sit up, but a wide paw kept him down.

"What the-"

Next thing he new there was something warm and wet sliding against his wound, stinging as the anti-bacterial saliva took effect.

"Crescent Moon get off me!" Bill yowled, trying to get the dragoness away from him, but she growled at him to stop squirming and continued to clean his wound. So Bill forced himself to lay still, reminding himself that it was to avoid the wound getting infected, which Dipper had warned him about. Primrose mumbled something between licks, and Bill suddenly wished that he knew what she was saying. As a demon, he could understand every language, ones used by humans, ones used by supernaturals, ones used by animals. If only.

I'm sorry my sweet baby, I wish I've been there.

The voice Bill suddenly heard was deep, yet feminine, just the right tone for Primrose's usual dragon voice. Did... Did he just hear Primrose speak? Though it was just that little sentence, the rest was just animal noises. Poor thing...

Soon enough Bill was tying the red cloth around his head again, the guide giving him an unimpressed gaze as if to say: "see? that wasn't so bad!" Bill thanked her awkwardly, sighing a huge sigh. His hand pressed to his forehead, he sat up to stare into the flames absent-mindedly, lost in thought.

Each of the three were badly wounded, so they couldn't travel. At least not in this state. They needed to recover before they continued their journey. That is if they recovered at all.

A sudden song caused Bill to jump and look back at the dragon. She had lay down her massive body next to the fallen human, lapping occasionally at his face, beginning to sing a strange beast lullaby.

The song was in a minor key, with a wolf-note here and there, in a language Bill couldn't understand anymore. Despite that, it was still stunningly beautiful. A lament punctuated with wolf howls, dolphin calls and other beautiful noises Bill had not heard in a long time.

Bill couldn't look at her anymore, so he hugged his knees and turned back to look at the flames. It wasn't that difficult to see that Primrose had gotten quite attached to both of the two-legged creatures. She treated them like her own flesh and blood.

There was nothing more painful to watch than a mother weeping over her dead child.

So Bill didn't. He just listened to the string of notes in dragon tongue, listening silently and without a word. He had never really understood at how music could make a person feel. But now, Primrose's lullaby was mirroring whatever he was feeling. The grief, the strangeness, the calmness... Weren't lullabies supposed to be happy to rest little children to sleep? That's what Bill always thought. But the lamenting lullaby was nothing like all those other ones he'd heard throughout the many years he had lived. This was despair. Ultimate despair.

Though suddenly Bill's stomach rumbled, wailing at its master to feed it. None of the three had anything to eat ever since that stag Primrose had dragged back and killed right in front of them before running into that shady town. How long has that been?

Primrose's song abruptly ended, and she hit the diamond marking on her forehead with a sheathed paw. She lifted her great body off the ground and shook herself once again, turning to pad back outside.

"Where are you going?" Bill asked her, though he already knew the answer.

Primrose signalled to her mouth with a wing talon, telling Bill in her own way that she was going out to hunt for food. Without further stalling, the amber dragoness slipped out of the cave and back into the rain.

Primrose had left the two boys alone before- she needed be alone to catch prey, and Bill had been alone with Dipper before, and silence hung between them every time their guide left.

Now the silence settled down once again, but this time Bill didn't want it to be silent. He strained his ears to hear Dipper breathe, but the boy was breathing so quietly that Bill couldn't hear it, that is if the boy was breathing at all. For a few moments Bill was with a wordless argument with himself, neither side able to win at first, but then the newer thoughts began overpowering his old way of thinking.

He had seen what he had acted like from the victim's point of view, felt the pain on his own skin, not his vessel's. All this time he claimed to know fear, but he had been shown true terror. Did he really want to be like that anymore?

Without a word Bill stood to his feet to stretch himself wearily, then sat down next to the fallen Pine Tree, wondering what it was that humans did to check if someone's heart was still beating. What was it called? A... A pulse! That was what humans called it, right?

He should know how to check someone's pulse, he'd watched humans for the entire time they existed! Bill hesitated, then pressed two fingers to the side of Dipper's neck somewhat awkwardly. Nothing. Maybe he was searching in the wrong place?

He moved his fingers, and breathed a sigh of relief when he found the pulse. It was slow and weak, and slowing down.

Dipper's heart was still beating, though only just.

Yes, he had lied to Dipper about the curse. He had said that if one of them died, the other would die as well, but in reality that couldn't be further from the truth. If one died, it would be one of the many ways the cursed electric chain could be broken. Bill told this lie to keep Dipper from figuring it out, and himself got close to revealing his lie when he leapt twice at him. While Primrose stopped him the first time, the thought of Dipper being useful stopped him the second. He needed the boy's help whether he liked it or not.

If he had looked upon this sight with his ignorant demon eye, he wouldn't hesitate for a second. He would've left him to die alone, slowly and in pain, or at the very least kill him quickly to put him out of his misery.

Bill tried his very best to go back to that mentality, that ruthlessness, that insanity, that bloodlust without regret. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't. Deep down, Bill didn't want to. He'd seen how horrifying true evil really was, felt the pain, fear and hopelessness of the prey on his own skin. The Shooting Star had not only cursed him with a human body, but a human mind as well. With which came something that could be any creature's downfall: emotion.

He had only felt a select few emotions in his demon form, among which were anger, glee and the such. Now, many more joined him, and it was weighing on him greatly like the unliftable boulder of trying to use demon powers while so weak.

Bill thought he would never feel such things, even as a human. For trillions of years he had surrounded himself with lies, terror and manipulation. He had terrorised too many too count, he killed in cold blood, tore family and friends apart, nearly destroyed the entire dimension just like he did with his own. How could someone as cold and as unfeeling as Bill suddenly begin to feel? Yet somehow, despite Bill doing everything in his power to eradicate it, there was still hope for him. Somehow, after all these years of villainy and anger, the tiny spark which Bill was trying so hard to bury and destroy had survived.

Bill remembered all the terrible things he did to Dipper and his family and his friends. The possession, putting them in mortal peril, holding them hostage and taring them and their world apart. That was a time of relentless murder, which had turned into a lump of guilt in his throat.

Bill remembered the desperation of fight and flight, his life on the line the entire time he had gone on this perilous journey. He had put his abnormal strength to good use in building campfires, running and fighting in those dingy corridors. The thrill was brilliant, another thing that came with the human body that Bill came to bizarrely enjoy: adrenalin.

Bill remembered that the entire time on this journey, Dipper was with him. The boy he once hated had been at his side constantly, partly because the curse forced him too, but of recent time it was his choice. The boy had helped him, countless times, even back when Bill was still a demon whether he knew it or not.

And Bill remembered the times where fighting was a pleasure, knowing Dipper was with him, fighting back to back, in such perfect harmony that it was difficult to tell where the boy ended and the demon began.

Pine Tree had somehow got through Bill's ridiculously thick exterior and reached the tiny spark that Bill thought was gone. The boy had done the unthinkable without realising it. He had broken the demon.

Dipper had been at his side, helping both him and their dragon guide. It was Dipper who smiled and cried and laughed and yelled and whimpered. If it wasn't for him, both Primrose and Bill would be dead. What Bill failed to realise was that during the course of the journey, unknown to him at first, he had grown to care for the boy.

This was the boy he once terrorised. His messy brown hair would stick out at all angles, covering the strange constellation birthmark on his forehead, the pine tree hat sitting calmly on his head. His muddy brown eyes twinkled with excitement whenever he was faced with the supernatural or a mystery to solve, a warm smile lifted the corners of his mouth.

And Bill Cipher loved him.

The love of a blood brother.

And now that very same brother was lying weak, unconscious from the pain of the gun-wound. A wound which was beginning to leak through the makeshift bandage. His chest rose and fell steadily, though the breaths were shallow and slow. His heart was still beating, though it was beating slower every second. Dipper was dying, and Bill had no idea how to stop it.

He and Primrose had done everything they thought of. What else was needed?

Bill wasn't used to this feeling. This feeling of hopelessness and sadness. He didn't want the boy to die. The feeling, Bill wanted it to leave him alone. But it didn't. Nor could it. It just kept growing, and growing, and growing.

His one remaining working eye had began to leak, and a warm tear rolled down his cheek and splattered onto the cold floor. After that came another, then another, and another. His right hand kept at Dipper's pulse, making sure it was still beating.

Beat, beat, beat... beat... beat...beat...beat...beat...

His left hand pressed up to his own face, trying to muffle his own quiet whimpers and whispers of incoherent rambling.

"Please Dipper, don't leave me."