Being a mermaid was the best.
Mabel propelled herself swiftly through the cool lake water, whooping as she breached the surface and came back down again with a truly immense splash. She was pretty sure that was her highest leap yet! Maybe she could finally get up the waterfall now. That would be awesome.
Of course, what would be the absolute most awesome would be seeing Mermando. She knew that was probably impossible, though. He had his family, and she had hers. Still, it would have been nice to swim with him for realsies.
Her fantasies were interrupted by a faint call from the water's surface. She perked her ears, listening intently. Was it just her imagination?
No, there it went again. She swam up and popped her head out of the water, looking around for the source of the voice. Then she saw a small deer-shaped figure waving its arms and yelling at her from on the dock. She rolled her eyes. Of course it was Dipper. She dived under once again, coming up right at the edge of the dock to spare her brother's voice.
"Heya, bro-bro," she said cheerfully. "What's shakin'?"
Right away she could tell something had gotten him worked up. His eyes were wide, and darted around every few seconds, as though expecting someone to jump him at any moment. She was also getting pretty good at reading his deer-y ears (hehe, rhymes), and right now they were perked up as high as they could go.
That usually meant trouble.
He gave a shaky breath. "OK, Mabel, you have to listen to me. You know the new guy? Will?"
"You meeeean…" She put on an imperious air, miming a monocle for good measure. "William Nemo the Third, Esquire?"
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah. That guy." He leaned in, looking around furtively. "I…I think he might be Bill."
Her jaw dropped. "No way."
He nodded seriously. "Way. I don't know why he's here, or what he's up to, but it can't be good."
"No kidding." She frowned, concerned. "So what're we gonna do about him?"
"Uhh." He paused, sheepish. "I…hadn't really thought that far. Maybe corner him and force him to reveal his identity?"
"Sounds like a plan to me!" She grinned wildly, then gasped. "You realize what this means, right?"
Dipper's brow furrowed, confused. "What do you –" His face fell, and he said, with an edge of dull horror, "It came, didn't it."
"It came."
Dipper sighed with an air of impending doom. "I'm going to regret letting you get that thing, I can feel it."
"Never," she said playfully, sticking her tongue out. "Now come on, Dipping Sauce! We've got a demon to catch!"
One of the downsides to being a deertaur, Dipper was quickly finding, was the skittishness.
His ears flicked around, listening tensely for every sound as he stood still as a stone, outside the door to Will's room, a feat that was becoming more and more difficult to do every second as his nerves ramped up.
Where was he? A quick check had confirmed he'd finished his shelving duties, but was frustratingly absent from everywhere else in the Shack he'd looked as well. Had he gone outside? He did seem to take great relish in lying up on the roof (probably enjoying the sensation of getting sunburned, Dipper thought, shuddering at the demon's odd, nigh-masochistic streak). If he was, that didn't bode well for Dipper's plan. Deer feet were not the best at climbing rooftops, especially with the level of experience he had with them.
Or maybe, he thought nervously…
Maybe he was watching Dipper right now. Watching, and waiting for the perfect time to attack.
"Don't turn around, don't turn around, don't turn around," Dipper began softly chanting to himself, voice and legs quivering with ill-disguised terror. Every instinct was telling him to run, to get out of there as quickly as humanly (deertaur-ly?) possible, but he had to stay strong, he had to stay there. Mabel was right around the corner, he reminded himself. Everything would be fine, everything would be fine, everything would be –
"Boo," a familiar voice said softly right in his ear.
Dipper bolted before he even thought about what he was doing, making a noise more akin to a faun than a human and crashing into the opposite wall, legs still making ineffective running motions for a few seconds. Groaning, he turned to see Will, who was clutching his sides as if he thought they would burst, convulsing with paroxysms of laughter.
Wiping a tear from his eye, he straightened, the cackling fit passing. "Ahh, that was priceless. You're so easy to get a rise out of it almost takes the fun out of it, kid." He grinned. "Almost. So whatcha need?"
Dipper started, quickly righting himself. "A-ah! Right!" He took a deep breath, positioning himself squarely in the middle of the small, closed-off hallway, and yelled at the top of his lungs, "MABEL, NOW!"
"Kay!" a faint voice called back.
Then there was silence.
The two stared at one another, Will with a slightly bemused expression, Dipper struggling to maintain his confident stance even as the silence dragged on.
Will glanced around. "So is something supposed to happen, or…?"
Then the rumbling began.
Will turned with surprise, looking for the source – and his jaw dropped.
Rolling down the hall towards him, crushing stray pieces of furniture as it went, was a massive, fuschia-tinged hamster ball, and swimming forwards with all her might, looking like the happiest mermaid in the world, was Mabel. She waved, then began rolling the ball with her hands, its speed picking up to a worrying rate.
"The jig is up, Will, or should I say, Bill?" Dipper yelled over the din. "Get out of that body, or you'll get to experience a whole new kind of pain – getting crushed by a human-sized hamster ball!"
"Rock ON!" Mabel said fiercely, pumping her fist.
For a long moment, Bill did not respond.
Then a chuckle escaped his lips.
Then a giggle.
Then, much to the confusion (and mild terror) of the twins, Bill began to laugh, long and loud. He walked over to the ball, placing a hand on its rolling surface and stopping it easily, much to Mabel's consternation, and turned to Dipper, who took an unconscious step back, ears flattening in fear.
"B+, kid, B+! You almost got it!" He clapped good-naturedly, then bowed. "Thought you'd never catch my hints. You have no idea how boring it was to play 'William Nemo' all day." His face snapped into a frown so quickly it was slightly unnerving. "But you didn't quite figure it out all the way, did you, Pine Tree?"
"Wh-what are you planning?" Dipper stammered. The demon gasped in mock surprise.
"Me? I'm not planning anything! I just want to help you find that cure." He crossed his heart. "Demon's honor. Not that I have any," he continued, chuckling, "but you get the idea."
"Yeah, like I'm gonna believe that. The last time you offered to help me, you took my body and tried to destroy the journal!"
"Oh, pshhhh," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "Water under the bridge. Besides, you think I'm offering to help you out of the goodness of my heart? I like you, kid, but I don't like you that much." He leaned against the wall nonchalantly. "No, I have my own reasons for wanting to rid this town of the Fluvius Flu. Reasons you," he jabbed his thumb at Mabel, who had long since lost interest and was now making ridiculous faces by pressing her nose and mouth against the plastic of her ball, "and your idiot sister don't need to know anything about. Capiche?"
Dipper crossed his arms. "And how am I supposed to trust you?"
"Trust's such an overrated thing, Pine Tree! We'll be partners of necessity. You leave well enough alone, and I'll get you and your precious town back to normal." He extended a hand that was curiously devoid of the customary blue fire. "Do we have a deal?"
Dipper didn't even have to hesitate. "No," he said flatly, turning and beginning to walk down the hallway. "C'mon, Mabel, let's go."
"Hey, wait!" Bill said indignantly, but Dipper didn't turn around. He'd made a seemingly innocent deal with the demon once and reaped the consequences; he wasn't about to do it again.
Then he stopped in his tracks as Bill spoke one last time, in a small, defeated tone.
"Please."
He turned, slowly. "What did you say?"
Bill refused to make eye contact. "You heard me the first time, kid. I'm not saying it again."
Dipper's head tilted. "Are…you feeling okay?" he said, inwardly boggling at the fact that he was actually feeling concern for the demon who had nearly ruined his life not once, but twice.
"I'm fine," he shot back, a little too quickly. "You know what, forget it. I'm Bill Cipher, I can solve this on my own." He turned, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable. "Hope you like staying a deer forever."
He stalked off down the hall past Dipper, his movements quick and jerky, bumping into the deertaur as he passed. Dipper watched him go silently, unsure of what to say or think.
With a sound like two massive millstones grinding together, Mabel rolled up behind him.
"What was THAT about?" she said, tracing a question mark with water on the wall of her hamster ball.
"I..." Dipper paused. "I don't know."
Five hours.
That was how long Bill had been gone.
Five whole hours with no sign of the energetic demon.
Dipper hadn't been counting, of course. He just happened to notice that when he glanced at the clock for the 7th time that minute.
Because if he was worried for that backstabbing, conniving…
Desperate, desperate enough to beg Dipper to let him help, to say please…
That backstabbing, conniving, very good at lying he wasn't worried monster, then there was something very wrong with him.
Absentmindedly, he noticed that he had chewed his pencil in half. He groaned and tossed it into an ever-growing pile of pencil nubs, pulling another out of the jar Stan had quietly and thoughtfully placed next to him after seeing the look of intense worry and confusion on his face.
He had been trying without success to figure out what Bill could be planning this time based on his earlier comments and reactions, and had so far been coming up with nothing but dead ends, much to his frustration.
Well, that wasn't entirely true, he supposed. There was one viable conclusion he'd come up with. One conclusion that, no matter how hard he tried to come up with alternatives, he always seemed to end up coming back to.
Bill Cipher genuinely wanted nothing more than to help him discover a cure for the 'Fluvius Flu', as he called it.
This was obviously impossible. He was a demon. Helpfulness was anathema to his very nature! For him to just offer to help Dipper on the conundrum that had been keeping him up at night for two weeks straight was too good to be true. There had to be some kind of catch.
And yet…
Dipper glanced at the clock again. 7:30. It was getting worryingly dark outside, and Bill still wasn't back yet.
Abruptly, he rose to his hooves, walking briskly towards the door and flinging it open.
Bill stood, frozen, in the doorway. Dipper hadn't seen him like this, well, ever. His hair, already wild to begin with, was swept this way and that, some draped over his right eye, which was missing its eye patch. His ever-immaculate suit had finally been sullied, the bright golden yellow mixed with browns and, alarmingly, some red as well.
The two stared at each other for a long, drawn-out second.
Eventually, Dipper looked away, clearing his throat and awkwardly hemming and hawing for a minute before speaking.
"Your, uh, your suit's dirty."
Bill looked down as if he was only just now noticing, gazing at it with disinterest. He made a small noise of assent, before looking back at Dipper, who fidgeted nervously under his gaze. Before he could stop himself, he thrust a hand out. Bill blinked, somewhat taken aback.
"I'm taking your deal," Dipper explained quickly. "You help me with the cure, and I don't ask why."
Bill looked at him like he'd grown a second head, but slowly raised his own hand, clasping the boy's and shaking. He chuckled lightly.
"You're insane, kid," he said with an almost affectionate air. "I like that." He cracked his knuckles. "So where do we start?"
Dipper pulled out the journal, golden hand shining brightly on the front cover. "Right here."
Bill grinned. "Perfect."
Absolutely perfect.