Right, here's the next chapter of Burning Skies! Id like to thank my beta-reader PhoenixWillowsRox88 for checking it over!

I don't have much else to say in the authors note this time, other than that I recently got a message asking whether or not it was okay to create fanart/playlists and such for this fic. Knock yourselves out! I'd love to see the stuff you guys create, whether it be for Walk the Line, Split, or Burning Skies! The easy way to get in contact with me is through my Tumblr at filthymallards . tumblr . com - just remove the gaps between the periods/full stops. I look forwrd to hearing from you guys, but in the mean time, enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls.


Every so often, Dipper would return to the cell. Sometimes he just came and went with some food and water. Sometimes he came to change his bandages. Sometimes he would lean against the door and just watch him.

Sometimes, he would ask if Gideon had decided whose side he was on.

Gideon always said he hadn't. Dipper always told him how much time he had left to decide – currently less than twenty-four hours. He never said what was going to happen to him if he didn't choose – or if he chose to not help Dipper. Part of his mind told him that it wouldn't be that bad, that Dipper would probably just kick him out, but another part of him said that there was no way he could predict what he would do. This Dipper was unpredictable to him, and that was something he just couldn't stand. How Dipper had come to be like this, he didn't know, but he had. Something fundamental had changed inside of him to turn him into this cold, bipolar-like person.

Only when Dipper walked in to inform him that he had twenty minutes to decide did he realize just what that fundamental thing was: Mabel. It was no wonder he'd reacted so badly to him having the key (not that he was going to forgive him for practically torturing him).

"Dipper?" He asked, pushing himself up so he could look at the shadowed teen standing at the top of the stairs. He could vaguely see that he was leaning against the door, but what was dangling from his hands was a mystery. When he didn't respond, Gideon continued. "...I've made mah choice."

That got a reaction. Dipper's feet shuffled along the wooden steps. "But before I say, I just have one question for ya."

"I'm not going to promise you an answer, Gideon."

Gideon scowled, turning his head to stare at his injured leg. Of course. He should have expected that. "You don't have to answer, but I'm still gonna ask."
Dipper's fingers tapped against the door behind him, the sound echoing down the makeshift cell towards him.

"Not havin' Mabel messed you all up. Didn't it?"

Dipper didn't reply. Instead, footfalls heavy, he made his way down the stairs. Gideon felt a strange choking sound draw out of his throat as he saw the axe he was holding loosely in one hand.

Oh sweet Jesus.

Face carefully blank, eyes lidded in a way that appeared disinterested, he said, "Who's to say I wasn't always this messed up, Gideon? Who's to say Bill didn't fuck me up when he possessed me. Huh? Huh?" His expression gave nothing away, but his words had a hissed edge. Gideon felt a spike of pride – at least now he knew what made Dipper tick - he could use that. Nevertheless, he could feel sweat gathering at his brow. He was screwed, Dipper was crazy – absolutely crazy!

The older teen shook his head hard, pivoting on his feet to pace the length of the room. It only took four long strides before he was pacing in the opposite direction. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, stopped in front of him and ran his free hand down the side of his face. "No. You're right. Gideon, I can't fight Bill alone." He shrugged his shoulders, hand tightening around the axe handle. "I need Mabel. I've always needed her. She's my twin – my best friend…and I can't fight Bill without her."

Gideon slowly nodded, eyeing the weapon. "I'll tell you what I know - I've…I've picked mah side." Very hesitantly, the first genuine smile Gideon had seen from Dipper crossed his face. It was tiny, barely existent, but it was there.

"Glad to have you on our team, Gideon." He sat down on the bed, and the axe dropped to the ground. He pushed up the sleeves of an old checkered green flannel he was wearing, steepling his fingers. He eyed roughed up hands, covered in a myriad of cuts and bruises. There had been old bruises on his hands before, when he'd been bandaging up his leg, but these were all knew. His knuckles were dark and bloodied, the skin surrounding them peppered with different shades of purples and blacks. He eyed one particularly nasty injury, a vicious looking, raw red burn that most assuredly hadn't been there a day ago. He didn't ask, and Dipper didn't seem to care, because all he did was fiddle with the key – Mabel's key – around his neck and say, "Now; let's get started. I suggest beginning from the start."


"So…what you're telling me is that Mabel might not even be in America?" Dipper said lowly, eyeing Gideon darkly. He didn't know how long they'd been talking, but it had to have been for at least two hours, judging by the slight ache in his belly.

He nodded. "Bill said he didn't want the chance of anyone findin' her – I, I'm not sure why – somethin' about her weirdness."

Dipper scoffed, kicking his axe hard so it slid across the floor and away from him. "Of course," he spat out. "Of. Course he wouldn't just keep her in Oregon. Do you know how long I've spent traveling around this fucking state looking for her?"

"Well. I can hasten a guess."

"And she's not even here." He was standing again, pacing. He picked up the axe, and with an angry shout, gripping it with two hands, he turned and cracked the axe against the concrete wall. Gideon jumped backwards on the bed, a spike of pain throbbing up his leg as he did. "Yeesh, Pines, calm down!"

Dipper ignored him, slamming the axe against the wall until little chips of cement started to fall away. His face was blind with fury; fury and pure hatred, and only after there was a small hole in the wall and the axe handle had started to split from the head did he drop it. His breathing was deep and ragged, almost like he was going to cry, but when he turned to look at Gideon his eyes were dry and his face was livid.

"I'LL KILL HIM!"

Gideon felt frozen stiff.

"I'll kill him," Dipper repeated, voice dropping. His hands clenched into fists. "But first I'm gonna..." His eyes darted around, chest heaving. "First I'm gonna rip him limb from limb!" He walked closer to Gideon, grabbing him by his shirt. He squeezed his eyes shut, prepared for a blow. "How long does it take for a demon to succumb to pain, huh? Do you know? Can they even feel pain – cause…cause he's gonna feel pure agony when I start ripping into him!" Dipper's grip tightened around his shirt, pulling him up a little. He peeked an eye open to look at the taller teenager. His eyes were blown wide and wild, black pupils swallowing brown

Gideon didn't know what to think anymore. Dipper wasn't sounding like himself at all – in fact, his voice was so dark, so completely maleficent, that the only way he could connect it with the teenager was because he was standing right in front of him.

"I…I…" He trailed off when Dipper laughed – a short, bitter laugh that held no humor. He released him, hands raking down his face, rubbing at his eyes as he slumped down on the bed. All his fight had vanished as if Gideon had snapped his fingers. He opened and closed his mouth, brows drawing down.

"Mabel would have never wanted this for me, you know." His voice had softened so much that Gideon had to strain to hear him. "What would she do if she saw me now? Do you think she'd even recognize me?" He sounded particularly miserable.

"Well, considerin' she last saw you four years ago, I'd think there'd be some hesitation," Gideon replied.

Dipper laughed shortly, then glanced at him. His face had relaxed back to what he was beginning to understand was his 'default' setting – flat, inexpressive, made of stone.

"So…if she isn't here, then where is she, Gideon? Did Bill…" His hands clenched into fists on his knees. "Did he ever tell you?"

Gideon shook his head. "He always said he'd tell me after he'd finished conquerin' the earth. But he did say that she was somewhere with a good conductorin' force."

Dipper frowned slightly, looking away at the split axe. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You tell me," he muttered.

The pair of them were silent for a long time, before sighing heavily together. Dipper stood up, the frown digging deeper across his mouth. He looked at the bandages on Gideon's leg, but didn't say anything. Picking up the axe, he said, "I'm glad I didn't have to use this, in the end. Thanks for choosing my side of things, Gideon."

So am I, Mr. Bateman, so am I.

"So…what now?" He pressed as Dipper made his way up the steps to the door. "Am I allowed to go?"

Dipper's eyebrows rose, head turning to look down at him. "Go? Go where? Your leg is busted up, and you look like you could barely hold up a weapon, let alone hold your own against a monster."

"This is your way of sayin' that I'm still your prisoner, ain't it?"

The corner of his mouth twitched up ever so slightly as he left the room. "Smart kid. See you in a bit."

Gideon grabbed his pillow as soon as the door shut, shoved it over his face, and threw the biggest tantrum into it that he could.

This was so unfair.


Props to anyone who understand the reference in this chapter. If you can flick me a message with the correct answer, I'll write a chapter revolving around a prompt you suggest!

Until next time, thanks for reading and reviewing!