Title: What's So Amazing That Keeps Us Stargazing?

Hello everyone! For no reason in particular, I'm posting a day early. Merry early Christmas?

Aha. So I hope you all like this chapter. Fun fact: this chapter was originally planned to take place after the eighth chapter, before I got sidetracked with the escape plot. Also, the ending wasn't meant to happen, it just sort of... did. But it all worked out in the end. After a bunch of editing, at least.

In case anyone was curious, the title of this chapter comes from the song Rainbow Connections, from the Muppets. The line was actually what inspired this chapter, so if you like it, you have the song to thank. If you hate it, blame the song.

And... that's it. Thanks for all the comments, kudos, favorites, etcetera! I've reached 350 kudos on AO3. That's... amazing. Really, thank you all.

Enjoy!

Dipper stared, chest heaving, at the man who was sitting, quietly, across from him. He could feel that wrongness inside of him, could feel that feeling he still didn't want to think about and he hated it. The man himself looked calm and collected, like he had every right to be there. He probably thought he did.

Dipper didn't want to see him. Didn't want to be around him. The memory of what happened was still fresh in his mind, and he didn't want any more reminders.

It had been two days since their fight and subsequent 'kiss', if one wanted to call it that. He had now been on this ship for two weeks. Dipper hadn't seen hide nor hair of the pirate in those two days, which he had been beyond relieved about. He was too raw to face the truth he now knew.

When he had woken, that morning after, the first thing he had done was cry. Heavy sobs that wracked his body and didn't stop for at least an hour, and only then because he had run out of tears to shed. He could feel disgust at himself, self-loathing rich in his mind. He still felt so dirty and wrong and sick. Infected. He hadn't even been able to think about Bill, nausea rising in him every time he did. As time passed, he was able to calm himself somewhat, allowing him to not freak out at the thought of the man.

He was still upset, though. Extremely. He didn't cry, didn't sob, but he could feel his tumultuous emotions warring in him. He had had many thoughts run through his mind, once he had calmed, tormenting himself, as he always did. Thoughts of Bill, the way he looked, the way he acted. Thoughts of that day, thoughts of that dominating mockery of a kiss. Thoughts of just how screwed he was and what his sister would think if she could see him now. If she'd hate him as much as he hated himself. He liked to think she would. Liked to think that she'd be disgusted at the very sight of him. It made him feel better, in a twisted way.

The worst thing about this whole thing was that he couldn't really even blame it solely on Bill. Yes, the man had tricked him, had played him like a fiddle, but Dipper should have known better than to fall for the man's tricks. He should have known, should have seen, should have prevented it. Shouldn't have gotten so close, shouldn't have felt so curious. Should have spent his time plotting his escape instead of getting wrapped up in the mystery that was Bill Cipher. But he hadn't and now he was stuck with a begrudging attraction to a man whose idea of fun was murdering children. He was sick.

The only relief he had gotten was from the fact that Bill had stayed away from him. The man hadn't come down to rub medicine on his back, hadn't come down for a chat. The only person Dipper had seen in two days was the bulging pirate who brought him his food, and he had felt relieved. Seeing Bill, so soon after what had happened, would have been torture. He hadn't even wanted to imagine what the man would have said, would have done. If he would be smug.

But his luck, it seemed, had run out.

It was late, he knew that. He could feel that the ship wasn't moving, clearly anchored for the night. He had been about ready to settle down, to sleep and have his usual nightmares, when he had heard the brig door open silently, light flooding into the dark prison. When Dipper's eyes had adjusted, he had seen the man he least wanted to see, standing tall and proud in the doorway, looking down at him imperiously.

When the man had barged into his cell, opening it and inviting himself in, Dipper had panicked. Had started yelling, demanding that the pirate leave, to go to Davy Jones' locker, to do anything other than be there with him. He might have been a bit hysterical, but he supposed he had earned that. He was under great emotional distress, and the cause of it was standing in front of him, calm and collected. Like he wasn't effected like Dipper was. Like what had happened didn't even matter to him.

Bill had simply taken it, had stood there calmly, looking at him intently with his one eye. Hadn't said a word, just let Dipper rant and rave, until the boy had run out of words. Then he had stood there for a moment longer, before taking a seat, sitting cross-legged in front of him, and hadn't moved since.

That was many minutes ago, with the only sound between them the sound of Dipper's ragged breaths and the ship settling around them. The boy felt uneasy that Bill wasn't saying anything, that he was just staring at him. His eye... It was so intense, sometimes. It scared him, as well as other things he refused to think about. It did things to him and he wanted it to stop, wanted the man to say why he was here and go. But he didn't. He just sat. And stared. Dipper would be damned, though, if he was the one to break the silence first, so it seemed they were at a stalemate. A terrible stalemate. Wonderful.

Finally, after Dipper was about ready to crack, Bill shifted. He turned to face the wall, a frown slowly forming on his face. He had no idea what the captain was doing, but he seemed to be thinking intensely about something. A moment passed, before Bill nodded, a quick and curt jerk of the head, like he was confirming something with himself. Then, a large grin bloomed on the man's face and he turned back to face Dipper, eye looking pleased. He didn't like it, didn't trust it one bit.

"So, if your little diatribe was any indication, I'd say that you don't like me much right about now." The man stated casually, unfolding his left leg so he could comfortably lean forward. Dipper frowned, feeling confused and off-put. Yeah, that was a bit of an understatement.

"Uh, yeah. Never did like you all that much." He confirmed slowly, nervously, when Bill looked at him like he was waiting for an actual response. Like the answer hadn't been a given. Dipper felt like squirming, his heart beating faster than he liked under Bill's attention. He watched as the captain nodded slowly at his comment, like he had expected it.

"Okay." The man said, before leaning back and looking at the ceiling, a wide grin stretching on his face. Well, suppose that was the right answer, then, he thought with a scowl. Dipper wanted to look away, wanted to turn from the man in front of him, but he found he just couldn't. The way Bill was sitting… he looked so relaxed and Dipper couldn't tear his eyes away. He hated that he couldn't.

Several moments passed in that maddening silence before Bill chuckled softly and looked up at him, eye hooded and grin lazy.

"I'm also willing to bet that you're feeling pretty bored. You seem to be the kind. Nothing to do, no one to talk to. You're probably climbing the walls."

Dipper frowned again, finally turning away from the man, not liking what that casual grin was doing to him. He shrugged in response, not wanting to dignify the question with a verbal answer. After all, the captain got it pretty accurate.

"But which are you more adverse to? Me, or that boredom?" The man mused after a beat had passed, his voice highly amused. Dipper scowled, still faced away.

"I've got a deal for you, Pine Tree." The man said suddenly, glee thick in his words. "My ship is anchored for the night, my men are either sleeping or drunk off their arses, and the ones who are awake are loyal to me, respect my decisions, all that. So, if you want it, I can get you out of here for the night. You'll still be chained, can't exactly trust you after all, but I can take you to the upper deck. You did say that you liked the stars, did you not?"

Dipper blinked. Then blinked again, trying to process the words.

A deal? To see the outside, to stargaze? But why? What was the man playing at? It all sounded too good to be true. After all, Dipper noticed that while the captain had stated what he would receive, he hadn't stated what he wanted from Dipper. What Dipper would have to give up in return for such a wonderful gift. Deals went two way, after all.

Too curious to keep his eyes adverted, he turned back to the captain, his stomach lurching at the casual, lazy grin he was met with. It was so different to his usual, manic, sharp grin. This one made him look so human, so normal. Dipper wasn't sure if he hated it or not. He shook his head to get the inappropriate thoughts out, focussing on the deal, focussing on his answer.

He didn't trust the captain. He didn't. He never had, never would. And with how the man made him feel inside, he couldn't trust himself around Bill. But… but it sounded so sweet. Seeing the outside, feeling the cool breeze against his face. It had been a week since he had last been outside and Bill was right, he was getting restless. His back still ached, but it was less intense now, so he thought that he might be able to walk if he tried. He could do it, could take the captain up on his deal and have the brief illusion of freedom. The only problem…

"I don't trust you." He claimed, looking the captain straight in the eye, seeing the mirth that lived there.

"Wise of you." The captain allowed, inclining his head slightly in agreement. "However, this is your only chance to be out of this prison. I'm not going to have this deal around for much longer, Pine Tree. One time only. So make your choice; your hatred of me, or your desire to feel the salt air and see the night sky?"

The captain leaned forward then, his face mere inches from his own. He could feel the warm breath fanning across his face, oddly sweet for once, not rancid and rotten. Like the captain had just finished eating sweets. Dipper tried not to feel the fluttering in his stomach at the proximity, and forced himself to frown.

"And just what do you get from this? What do you want from me?" He demanded. The captain let out a soft chuckle at his words.

"I want nothing from you, kid. Just the chance to see you under my control, that's all."

Dipper almost declined right then, on principle. The way the captain looked so smug and amused rankled him, made him scowl bitterly. But… he wanted to see the sky. He hadn't seen the night sky in over two weeks, hadn't felt the breeze in one. And if all the captain wanted was to see him 'under his control,' well, could he honestly say no? As long as he didn't have to give anything, as long as he behaved… he'd get out of this cell and back to the upper deck. How could he resist?

He hated it, though. Giving in to this rogue was the last thing he ever wanted. Letting the man win made him want to stab himself in the gut, but he needed to see the sky. He may not feel confinement as swiftly as his sister did, but after a week of being trapped, he needed a bit of freedom. And if Bill was offering… and wasn't asking him for something he couldn't give… then he'd swallow his pride and give in. Just this once.

"Fine." He said shortly, scowling at the glee that he could see filling the captain's eye at his reluctant agreement.

"Great!" The captain enthused, standing with a flourish. The man walked close to him then, grabbing the chain from its position on the wall. Dipper watched as the captain looked down at him expectantly, clearly waiting for him to get up and get moving. With some reluctance, Dipper attempted to stand, wincing as his scabs pulled. He could see the captain's grin falter at that, but he didn't particularly care. His back was throbbing mildly and he couldn't really find it in him to care much for what the captain did or didn't do.

When Bill grabbed his arm gently, though, to pull him along, Dipper found himself flinching back a bit. Even with his wish to see the sky, he still knew just who it was he was submitting to right then. What the man had done to him. The captain let go of him immediately, like he had been burned, and looked kind of contrite for a brief second. It didn't last long, though, and soon the captain was dragging him along by the chain, happily chatting about this or that, chaining his ankles when they exited the cell. He didn't touch him again, though. Not even while chaining him. Dipper felt relieved.

The walk up to the upper deck was awkward, for Dipper at least. The captain was silent now and the silence was deafening. They had to walk slower than usual, since Dipper's back kept radiating pain when he walked too fast. The captain was surprisingly patient with him, though. He didn't yank the chain, didn't rush him along. Just waited until Dipper was over his bout of agony before moving. Dipper, reluctantly, felt grateful.

Right before they began climbing the stairs that would give them access to the upper deck, Dipper froze, faltering as he looked at the door. While he wanted, desperately, to see the sky, he wasn't sure he wanted to see the mast. To see the place he had been violently beaten by the man who was standing next to him. To have to acknowledge just how twisted his little infatuation was, seeing the scene of the demon's worst crime against him. But he had come so far, he could practically taste the night air. He couldn't stop now.

With a deep breath, he continued on, Bill following silently behind him. He hesitated only slightly at the door, but before any more second thoughts could bombard him, the captain opened it and let the salt air rush in. With shaking legs, Dipper continued on. But he stopped abruptly when he saw what he had so desperately wanted to see, what he had been yearning to see for two, long weeks, yet hadn't dared hope to ever see again.

The sky was clear that night. Not a cloud marring its wide expanse. He could see each star clearly, could see them twinkle. He felt his breath stop at the sight, his focus solely on the heavens. For the first time in weeks, he could feel peace spread though his body, felt calm invading his heart and laying claim. The sky had always done that to him, ever since he had been a child and had spent hours in the garden, staring upwards towards the great unknown. Ever since his father had meticulously explained the constellation he had recalled learning from his uncle, Dipper's great uncle.

He felt Bill tug his chains a bit, could hear brief, muttered words, but he wasn't paying attention. He walked, absently, where the captain was walking but he didn't tear his eyes from the dark night sky. Didn't dare, didn't want to think of anything other than the beauty he saw above him. Didn't want reality to invade. Didn't want to have to acknowledge the fact this was all only temporary. Eventually Bill stopped them and gently, almost hesitatingly, touched his shoulder to indicate that he should sit, which he did. He tried not to think of Bill as he sat, head still faced upward.

As they sat, heads tilted up, not a word was spoken between them, not a single sound uttered. There was no one up there but them, whatever pirates that were up clearly staying away from their spot. Dipper felt distantly relieved, not wishing to spend time around any of them. All he wanted was to sit back, bask in the wonder he always felt when he saw the stars.

When Bill eventually broke the silence, long minutes later, Dipper felt himself jump. It wasn't that he had forgotten the man's presence- it was practically impossible to- it was just that he had been so engrossed in the sky, so engrossed in not thinking about anything, that it was shocking to be dragged away from that. He, on instinct, looked at the captain and felt his breath stop at the peculiar expression on his face. He couldn't even put a name to it, it was so foreign and bizarre. But oh so beautiful.

"Tell me about them." The man muttered, eye trained on him. Dipper cocked his head slightly to the side in mild confusion, not comprehending.

"What?" He whispered back, not wanting to speak loudly and break the calm he felt inside. Bill nodded to the sky.

"The stars, tell me about them. You're clearly knowledgeable, right?" The man questioned, eyebrow raised, the slightest hint of condensation entering his voice. Dipper felt his jaw clench when he heard it, but forced himself to turn back to the sky. Forced himself to ignore what he felt when he saw the man, and began to speak of what he knew. Part of him didn't want to, didn't want to give this part of him up, but a larger part- the part that was lonely and had always ached for someone who was interested in what he had to say- urged him on. He knew that the captain wasn't his friend, wasn't a good man, but for this moment he could pretend. He was very good at pretending.

So he spoke. Softly, with a special sort of enthusiasm, with meaning and joy. He spoke of the stars, of the constellations, of asterisms and planets. He gestured with his hands, he emoted with his voice. For the first time in weeks he felt excited about something, excited about his not-so-secret obsession. It was exhilarating, and as long as he ignored who was beside him, the problems he had, he could enjoy it. God, how he had needed this.

After a while had passed, his voice the only source of sound between them, Dipper tore his eyes from the sky and looked at his companion, wondering if the man was bored, if he was regretting asking. Mabel had always hated it when he had enthused about his interests, speaking at length. She never said it, but he could see it in her eyes, how bored she was. She never meant it, wanted to seem interested for his sake, but it was always in the back of his mind whenever he spoke.

But Bill didn't look bored. He didn't look like he regretted. Bill was just looking at him silently, that same peculiar look on his face, a small, half smirk playing on his lips. Dipper didn't know what to make of it, didn't know what to think. It made him feel funny to see, funny but not wrong. His words faltered and he couldn't tear his eyes away from the man he constantly thought of. The man who had invaded his mind and had taken everything he was and had twisted it.

"I hate you." He whispered then, softly, needing to hear those words. Needed to remind himself that they were true, needed them to be true. The captain's face shifted, darkened before a sardonic smile found its way on his face, self-deprecating in nature.

"You're not the only one. I think I'll live." Bill murmured, before lying back to see the sky more clearly. Dipper looked down at the man for a second, before doing the same, ignoring the pain it caused in his back. Seeing the captain look so serene, so calm, made something in Dipper itch to get a piece of charcoal and draw him, get that look down on paper. But he couldn't, not when he was chained and imprisoned. Several moments passed as the two simply stared upwards, as the sounds of the night washed around them.

He then felt a hand nudge the back of his and felt a jolt run through him at the contact.

"Speak." The captain commanded, and Dipper obliged. He continued what he had been saying before, pointing at specific stars, showing which ones were actually planets, showing all the constellations he remembered. Bill followed, nodding absently at his words. His hand didn't move from where it was pressed against his, and Dipper didn't move his away. Didn't want to. Bill's hand was too warm.

An eternity passed that way, time frozen as Dipper spoke, the only contact he had to the world the hand he felt pressed against his. The stars moved, the ship swayed, but nothing mattered, nothing outside of the sky and this moment. This moment of time where nothing was real and everything seemed so simple. Where he wasn't a prisoner, where he was just a boy who loved the sky, who had a… a friend to speak to. Who had someone who cared. Reality didn't matter; reality hurt and reality devoured. This moment was all he needed to know.

Eventually his words ran out, eventually he grew silent, staring at the sky. Bill's fingers had twined a bit with his, backs still pressed against each other but their fingertips were touching lightly. He wanted to rip his hand away, wanted to feel disgusted at the contact, but he didn't. He couldn't.

"This is your apology, isn't it?" Dipper muttered softly, voicing a thought that had invaded his mind a while before. It was preposterous; Bill didn't repent, didn't apologize. But this felt like an apology. Like a way to make up for the terror the man beside him had inflicted. He felt Bill shift beside him at his words, the hand pressing against his further. He turned his head and saw that golden eye, glowing in the waning moonlight.

"Pirates don't apologize, Pine Tree." The man murmured back, his face blank as he stared. Dipper blinked, and nodded slowly. Yes, he had noticed that. He turned back to the sky, but didn't remove his hand.

"Dipper." He whispered softly, eyes on his namesake, millions and billions of miles away. He could see from the corner of his eye that Bill had tilted his head to the side, a small frown on his lips.

"My name is Dipper." He explained after a moment had passed, after the man hadn't responded. He knew he had never told the man his name before, knew that he hadn't wanted to then. But now, in this moment when nothing was real, when time didn't exist, he wanted to hear it. To hear his name, to remember who he was. Because he was forgetting, he was forgetting and he was afraid. He needed to remember lest he forget completely and leave himself behind.

"Dipper." He heard a voice muse, soft, high-pitched; familiar. He shivered to hear it from that voice, to hear that man say his preferred name. His nickname that was no longer a nickname but was his identity. He was Dipper Pines. He was. He was.

Silence prevailed again after that, the night sky a constant. Dipper was trapped in a moment, in a thought, in an idea that wasn't real but was. All he could feel was the wooden ship beneath his back, the chill ocean breeze, and the warm hand pressed against his own. He couldn't sense time as he laid here, as he simply was. Time was meaningless, fleeting, a construct made so humans could have structure.

But time moved. Even as he thought, as he was, time moved and things changed. Things always changed. The moon slowly dipped down the sky and Dipper's eyes felt heavy, but he dared not to close them for fear this would end. That he'd wake up and be in his prison again; trapped, trapped, endlessly trapped. This moment had to be eternal because when it ended he'd be a prisoner again, he'd be imprisoned in a dark cell that smelled like dying fish and rotten salt water. And suddenly, he was afraid. He'd be nothing, there. He'd no longer exist, there. He would no longer be. He would die down there. He could see this clearly, as he watched the sky move over him. As he felt the freedom and contentment slip from his grasp like smoke.

He felt Bill move against him then, felt warm fingers grab his, properly, felt his hand get engulfed in white hot flame. No other movement, no other sensation, just those fingers grasping his, holding his. His lifeline, the only thing holding him back. The only thing grounding him in this moment, keeping him from drifting away. This was his captor, he thought as he twined his fingers with Bill's. As he gripped the hand in his tightly, needing to feel something in this moment. This man was the reason he would be returning to that cell, why he'd be trapped once more. But he was so afraid. He needed someone, something to hold, even if it was just a hand. He could feel the minutes ticking down and he was ashamed to admit he was scared. He didn't want to fade away to nothing.

When the sun started to rise, when the stars started to disappear, he felt the man beside him shift, moving to get up, but he stiffened. He was frozen. He didn't want to move, didn't want to go inside. His eyes were stuck on the sky and he couldn't move. He felt the hand in his tug, but he tugged back, feeling mild hysteria fill him.

"No. Please, no. Don't make me go back. Don't lock me down there again. Please." He heard himself beg, his voice a whisper as he did what he had once promised himself he would never do, as he threw his pride away and begged like the child he was. Because he couldn't go back, not after having this freedom. Not after tasting the salt air, not after feeling this peace. Not now. Not ever.

"I have to, kid. You know the rules." The man claimed, after a long moment had passed. His voice sounded wrong, sounded off. Dipper looked up at him and saw pity in the man's eye and he suddenly hated it. It was wrong, and he hated it.

"But you can change the rules." Dipper bit out, sitting as well, staring the man in his eye. "You can. You're the captain of this ship, what you say goes. Don't make me go back there. Please, don't make me go back."

Bill stared at him, face frozen and expressionless. Moments passed as they just stared at one another, another stalemate. Dipper knew then that if Bill forced him to go back, forced him back down into that cold and dark place, he'd never forgive him. It didn't matter the attraction he felt. It didn't matter the charitable thoughts he had for the man. This would be the straw that broke the camel's back. He couldn't go back into that dull monotony. He couldn't be trapped down there again. He couldn't. He had some of his life back, his excitement, and he couldn't let that coldness burn it out. He was already so cold.

"What do you want from me, kid? You ask a lot, for a prisoner. Why should I listen to your request?" Bill finally spoke, that expressionless mask still on his face, his eye boring into Dipper. But he didn't look away. He couldn't.

"Because I can't go back down there. Please, Bill. Don't make me go back down there."

He watched as the man in front of him took in a shuddering breath, his expressionless mask breaking as a frown bloomed on his face.

"You'd still be my prisoner. I'm not letting you go, Pine Tree. Dipper. You're mine, don't think I'm going to forget that." The man warned, still staring, still intense. Dipper shivered. God, he hated this man, hated the man who held claim to him, hated him for what he had done to him and for what he continued to do. He told himself that he hated him. That he had to hate him. And yet, he felt himself nod his agreement to the man's terms.

"Okay. Okay. Just don't make me go back there."

He didn't even really know why he was so averse to going back down into the brig, other than the fact that he was just so afraid. He knew that if he went back, eventually he would die there. Die cold, and alone, and afraid, and he didn't want that. He already knew that he wasn't leaving this ship with his freedom, but now he also knew that he didn't want to spend the rest of his days down in that hellhole. Anywhere was better than the darkness that invaded his mind, invaded him. It was so cold, so quiet down there. He could feel it entering his mind when he wasn't looking. And even with his waning hatred, he had to hope that Bill would not make him go back to that.

A long beat passed, before the captain shrugged, his face relaxing into a small, strained smirk.

"Alright. Fine. I have one other place I can keep you. You won't like it, though." The captain claimed, sounding casual. Dipper wanted to shudder again, the tone making his heart pound with unease, but he held it back and nodded.

"As long as it isn't there, then fine."

Another beat of time passed, before the captain grinned, a slow, dangerous smile that sent shivers down Dipper's spine.

"Very well, then, Pine Tree. Very well." The captain practically purred, eye hooded and grin sharp enough to wound. Dipper couldn't hold his shudder back that time, uncertainty filling him as he took in the frightening look.

With practiced ease, the captain stood, abrupt and clean like he was wont to be. Dipper felt his hand be dragged up as well, the man yanking him up crudely, causing a jolt of lightning pain to race down his back. He stifled his cry as the captain turn and strode quickly away, the boy following as well as he could a second later, unable to do anything else since their hands were still attached.

Dipper's mind felt muddled again as they walked, the long night catching up to him as they moved. The long two weeks. He could feel exactly how exhausted he was, could feel the sluggish way he shuffled. And he could feel the glares of the various pirates they passed, daggers that pierced through his skin, all the way to his ever beating heart. God, he was tired. And cold. And oh so alone. He just wanted to feel safe- feel warm- for a moment. It was why he had begged to not be returned to that prison cell of his.

The glares were affecting him, though. It was early morning, just passed dawn, so not many were awake. But those that were had stopped their work and were glaring at him. Poison darts that only increased the ice that had started filling his heart the moment he had seen his mother's body lying on the ground, eyes dead, the acrid stench of smoke infiltrating his lungs. The ice that had been increasing with each day he spent on this godforsaken ship. The ice that threatened to devour his still beating heart. His breath hitched as he stared at a particularly vicious looking pirate, the hilt of his blade glinting in the early morning glow. His hands began to shake ever so slightly.

It wasn't until he felt the man beside him stop abruptly that he was pulled from his darkening thoughts, that he felt the icy band around his heart lessen somewhat with distraction. Then he saw just where it was they had been headed, His eyes widening as he took in the familiar door, breath halting for a second as his exhausted mind processed.

"You've got to be kidding me." Dipper breathed, voice soft as he stared in mild horror, turning his gaze on the now grinning pirate captain.

"You said you wanted a new place to stay, kid. I only have a few places I can put you and still be able to keep an eye on you. Unless, of course, you'd prefer to bunk with the rest of the crew?" The captain grinned, raising an eyebrow in question. Dipper felt himself shudder at the thought, knowing that he would surely die if that were to ever happen. He shook his head slowly, watching as the captain let out a low chuckle, dark merriment in his remaining eye.

"Didn't think so! Come on, Pine Tree. Let's get you all nice and settled so I can get to work. I'm a very busy guy, after all."

The words were mocking, his smirk sharp as the man opened the door with a flourish, striding through the room with practiced ease. Dipper followed, eyes darting around the room he knew too well, left hand nearly in flames as Bill tugged him along.

When they reached the mysterious door, mahogany wood with intricate swirls around triangular designs, he watched as the captain took out a brass key and fit it into the keyhole, unlocking the room and entering it with a flourish.

"Welcome, Pine Tree, to my humble abode." The man grinned, eye glinting at he looked back at the boy he was dragging along. Dipper just blinked, taking in the admittedly beautiful room.

The first thing Dipper noticed was that the walls were rich in color, dark and enchanting. Skimming his eyes across the area, he absently saw that on the back and left side of the room was a large window, which showed a lovely view of the blue ocean. On the left hand side of the room was a dining area, a table and chair set that took up a good deal of space. Behind it was a cabinet, cedar wood with golden accents. Moving his eyes on, he took in the back of the room, where the window ended and the wall began, seeing an enormous four poster bed, blood red wood and sheets. To the right side of the bed was a large wardrobe and an end table to the left, with a chest laying innocently in front of it. Finally, on the right hand side of the room was a living area, with several cushioned velvet chairs and a long lounge along the wall, a bright yellow rug laying underneath the ensemble. Dipper couldn't help but think it looked very out of place in the dark room.

The boy was pulled from his thoughts once again when he felt the man to his side tug his arm, pulling him along to the right hand side of the room. Looking closer, Dipper could see that there was a sturdy looking bar attached to the wall left of the lounge. The purpose of which was made known as the captain fastened his chain to the bar, giving him just enough room to sit and lie down. As he watched the captain move, Dipper wondered once again just how wise of an idea this was. His heart was pounding as he shifted awkwardly, standing stiffly as the captain bent before him to take the ankle restraints off.

With the chains in hand, the captain stood and stepped back, nodding his head in satisfaction, a smirk playing on his lips. It was like this had been his plan all along, like he had always wanted Dipper to be chained in his room. If it wasn't for the oddly tense glint in the man's eye, Dipper might have believed the facade.

"There! All secure." The man hummed, glancing around the room absently. "I'll be back later, once I'm done with my work. See you then, Pine Tree. Don't break anything while I'm gone!"

Then, quicker than Dipper could react, the man darted forward again and left a chaste kiss on his lips, a barely there press of flesh that had Dipper not been hyper aware, he would have missed. Freezing, his pounding heart lurching to a halt, Dipper stared wide eyed at the retreating figure, mouth tingling and numb. The man sauntered to the door, his hips swaying like they were wont to do. Like he was dancing, like he was performing for an audience of one. Dipper was transfixed, unable to tear his eyes away, even after the man had disappeared out the door with nary a backwards glance. It was only when he felt the ship raise the anchor and set out that he slid down the wall to the ground, his heart pounding as he took in this new advancement.

Well. Okay. So he… he was no longer staying in the brig. He no longer had to return to that pressing cold and invading dark. That was… good. That was great. After the freedom of being in the cool yet not unpleasant sea air, he was unsure if he would have been able to take a return to that hell. Now, however, he was being held in the quarters of the captain. Of a man he had developed… feelings for. That was… less good. Horrifying, actually.

He took in a straggled breath, body shivering, despite the warmth he felt from the room at large. He honestly had no idea what to think, how to feel. His heart was like ice, freezing his limbs as he stared blankly ahead. There was no way this would ever work out. With his thoughts toward the captain, with the way his heart lurched whenever the man looked at him… the way his nerves tingled at every touch… the way his lips still tingled with a phantom memory of warmth pressed against them…oh, there was no way this would end well. It was funny; just this morning he had never wanted to ever see this man again, now he was practically living with him. What would this do to him?

Oh, he didn't want to think of this, he thought miserably as he folded his knees to his chest and hugged them close. He had just wanted to be free of the brig, wanted to be out of that horrid prison. To not feel so cold inside. And now here he was, his lips tingling from a barely there press, the second kiss he had received from the captain.

He would have to think more of this later. For now, he was exhausted, having stayed up the entire night, stargazing with Bill. He'd examine it all when he woke up, when he had rested.

Things would work out. Somehow, they'd work out.

They had to.