Hey everyone! Happy New Year! Why am I posting a day early? I have some school things tomorrow and Sunday, so I wanted to post this today so I don't have to worry about it tomorrow.
Anyway, this is a long chapter. The longest chapter in this story. It has over 10,000 words. So... yeah. Have fun. I apologize; there was nowhere I could break it up. On the plus side, this is a big chapter. Lots of questions will get answered. It's also... kind of dark. Especially near the middle. Please note that Dipper is kind of... breaking. He is not doing alright. I also wanted to mention that this chapter did not turn out... quite how I had wanted. There are a few parts that bug me, but I have no idea how to fix it. So, I hope you like it regardless.
Also, if anyone wants to contact me about this story while not on AO3 or FF . Net, I do have a Tumblr. My URL is SpikeisAwesome456, so feel free to shoot me a question there, if you want any questions answered, since I'm more likely to answer that than comments.
And that's it.
Enjoy!
Dipper could feel a small smile blooming on his face as he watched the pirate captain saunter around his quarters, the man's hips swaying as he went. He heard the words that the pirate was saying, but he wasn't really listening, focussed more on the movement of the man's hips. The man looked good, with his body relaxed and a peaceful look on his face. Dipper was still taken by his beauty every time he saw it. So damn beautiful, and the man knew it and made sure to flaunt it around him. Dipper was sure of it.
When the captain turned to look at him, that playful smirk on his face, Dipper could feel his heart stuttering. It was all he could do to smile back, hoping he didn't look like a complete fool. By the way the man's smirk widened, he wasn't quite sure if he managed, but he didn't mind. Bill teased him occasionally, but it wasn't really cruel. Not now.
It had been four days since he had moved into this room. Four days of longing looks, heated kisses, and sinful thoughts that he honestly shouldn't be having. The captain spent most of the day away, doing his duties as captain and head helmsman while Dipper stayed locked down here, but at night they spent hours with one another, as well as during lunch. And those hours were ones that Dipper looked forward to, the minutes of the days crawling as he waited for his captain to return.
It concerned him, sometimes, when he was alone. Concerned him how much he needed Bill. How much he craved his touch, his lips. During the day he would spend hours warring with himself, trying to remind himself just who Bill was, trying to get himself to see reason. But then Bill would come back. And any argument he had made against his infatuation would flea upon seeing that beautiful man and his soft smirk.
He had only been on this ship for a little over two weeks, yet he craved the captain like he had never craved anyone else. Every second in the man's presence caused fire to flood his veins while all thought fled from his mind. It was insanity at its finest. Bill drove him utterly mad, thoroughly bonkers. His presence alone could make Dipper's mind shut down completely, and his touch was like a burning flame. Like lightning striking him again and again. He wondered sometimes if Bill would burn him to ashes one of these days. Wondered if he would let him.
As he watched Bill saunter over to him, he tried not to feel the panic that threatened to destroy him, in moments like these. The panic that he was losing himself completely, that he was different than he used to be. He felt it so keenly in these quiet moments, when his heart was thumping and his blood was flowing. A panic, so piercing, would enter his heart and it was almost as maddening as Bill was. Because Dipper didn't want to think about this anymore. Bill made him happy. Made him feel not as completely destroyed about this whole situation. He wasn't ever going to leave this ship, so why did it matter that he was different than who he used to be? What difference did it make? There was no use panicking, no use feeling self-hatred, because it wasn't like any of this mattered. Bill, for want of a better word, owned him. So he shouldn't feel bad for doing what was best for himself. Right?
"You know, I'm starting to think you just don't like me, Pine Tree. You never listen to a word I say. Makes a guy think you're just not interested." Bill's voice claimed, a pout in the words, cutting through the silence of the room. Dipper looked up at Bill with a sheepish grin, noticing the man was standing right over him.
"S-sorry Bill. I was just… thinking." He grimaced, shrugging lightly and hoping the man wasn't too offended. He heard Bill let out a 'humph' of annoyance, before feeling a body collapse onto his lap, forcing his arms to wrap around that impossibly warm torso as the man practically draped himself over him. It was almost comical, a man as tall as Bill scrunching himself to fit on Dipper's lap, but Dipper didn't really mind. As long as Bill kept most of his weight on the ground and not on his legs, it wasn't even that painful. And besides, this was not the first time the man had done this, since Dipper had a tendency to let his mind wander while people were talking to him, which Bill did not enjoy, so he had gotten mostly used to this by now. Bill was very tactile, seeming to thrive on touch. It was odd, coming from a pirate, but then Bill always had been a bit odd. Dipper didn't mind it much. He liked touching the man.
"What were you thinking about?" The man questioned, wrapping his arms around Dipper's neck. The way the man was looking as him made him shiver, his mind almost blanking again, but before it could he made sure to mentally shake himself and shrug in response to the man's question.
"Oh, you know. Things…" He eluded, not really wanting to tell Bill about his panic and his fears. The captain didn't need to know. Probably didn't want to know. He'd just claim Dipper again, say how he wasn't ever going to leave, and Dipper didn't want that. While he had come to terms with it, it did still leave a bitter taste in his mouth. He still missed his twin desperately, after all. Bill tsked and shook his head, one of his hands migrating to his hair, running it through the unruly curls. It made Dipper shiver and lean in.
"Things." The pirate mimicked, still shaking his head. "So eloquent, aren't you, Pine Tree? Good thing I don't like you for your brains."
Dipper scrunched his face up in mild offense at that, sticking his tongue out at the man who was now petting him oh so softly. It felt amazing, but Dipper was doing his best to focus on his words.
"Not my fault you like to read dictionaries for fun. Can't even figure out half the things you say." Dipper shot back, thinking of all the complicated words the man in front of him liked to use sometimes. Like he was trying to make everyone else confused with his needlessly complicated way of speaking. Bill just tsked again.
"Well, it's not my fault that you're a puerile child who can't be bothered to learn the English language. After all, you were the one who was raised in an upper class household. I taught myself to read, so what is your excuse?" Bill rejoined, leaning forward to kiss Dipper's neck gently. Dipper could feel himself shiver at the contact, but he also couldn't help the stab of concern he felt at what the man had casually revealed about himself. Bill didn't speak much about his childhood, but occasionally he let something slip, such as the fact that he had been raised on the streets, or that he had spent most of his childhood starving. Learning the man had taught himself to read wasn't surprising, but it was still upsetting to hear. But he wouldn't mention it, not now. Not when Bill was trailing burning kissed along his neck.
"Hmm. Got me there." Dipper hummed absently, tilting his head in a way that would give Bill more access. He felt the man snort against his neck, before those deadly teeth nipped the skin gently, playfully. It elicited a gasp from the boy, making him arch his back in pleasure.
"Simpleton." Bill muttered, letting his left hand wander down Dipper's body, under his shirt- which Bill had meticulously cleaned for him the other day- to creep up his chest sensually. Dipper moaned, enjoying the warm hands that were doing such terrible, wonderful things to his body. It felt like a piece of heaven while trapped in hell.
In the past few days, they had not gone any farther than kissing and petting, and likely never would, if Bill's words were any indication. Apparently the man was not a big fan of anything that dealt with intercourse, which Dipper was honestly fine with. He was still wrapping his head around this new arrangement, he didn't think he could deal with anything more. Plus, he still wasn't quite sure how that would even work. He had a basic knowledge of how all that worked (thank you, Grunkle Stan, for the most mentally scarring hour of his life) but neither he nor Bill had all the required parts. It was baffling, but he wasn't about to ask Bill how it worked, so perhaps it was for the better that they kept it to just this. Plus, it wasn't like they were married or anything like that. And while he wasn't a woman, to sleep with a person before marriage was a bit improper.
This was still nice, though. Bill's hands were warm and incredible, inspiring the most amazing sensations in him. And his lips… oh, his lips. So wonderful, so brilliant. He loved them, loved this feeling.
As Bill began kissing up his neck, his trailing kisses reaching up to the side of his face, Dipper could feel that heat in his stomach mounting, causing him to squirm just a bit. A day or so ago he had had a little… accident, while Bill had been teasing him. It had been mortifying, especially when Bill had understood what had happened and had started cackling like a maniac. From then on he was determined to keep himself from repeating that situation, but it was so difficult when Bill was kissing him so wonderfully. Deciding that he wasn't going to wait for the captain to make his way over to his lips, Dipper turned his head and met Bill's lips with his own, causing a small hum to sound from the man.
"Impatient, Pine Tree?" The man muttered against his lips, sounding amused. Dipper shrugged, pulling the man closer to him, his hands drawing small circles on his hips.
"Always." He muttered back. Bill chuckled, before deepening their kiss, his tongue entering Dipper's mouth, making talk practically impossible after that.
They continued kissing for several minutes, the time slipping away as they lost themselves in the sensations. Dipper would feel worried that Bill didn't feel quite the same way he did, that he was just pulling him along on a string for fun, but he could feel that this wasn't a game to the man. He could tell from his words, from how desperately he touched him. How reverent he could be. For better or for worse, this was real. For both of them.
When Bill was tired of kissing, he pulled away and leaned his head against Dipper's chest, allowing his breathing to calm as he simply leaned against the boy. Dipper didn't mind, holding the man and running soothing fingers through his hair. He knew that Bill wasn't quite comfortable with all this, so he did his best to help the man through his doubts. If being gentle was what kept Bill from freaking out, he'd do it. Not to mention it helped him somewhat, too.
As he held the man, though, he couldn't help but wonder about him. About his life. About everything that made him who he was. He was such a contradiction and Dipper couldn't help but wonder why. He longed to ask, longed to hear what answers the man had for him, but he knew he couldn't. Knew that Bill would shut down, get upset, like he sometimes did when he accidentally shared a bit too much. Dipper didn't want that. Didn't want to make the man uncomfortable just to satisfy his own curiosity. So he'd live with his burning curiosity until Bill decided that he wanted to relay the information to him. If Bill ever decided, that was. He'd live either way. He had to. With an inaudible sigh, he let his mind wander as he ran his fingers through his unwashed hair and he tried to feel content with how things were.
"My men aren't very happy with this new arrangement of ours." The captain said a few minutes later, once he had calmed himself enough. Dipper looked down at the man on his lap and frowned.
"How so?" Dipper questioned, feeling a bit of concern fill his heart. Would the crew make Bill send him back to the brig? The boy wasn't quite sure how rules worked on a pirate ship, but from what Bill had said, the crew did have a say on what happened on the ship. So if they wanted him to be returned to the brig, Bill would not be able to do much to stop it, or else it would damage his standing as captain and possibly lead to him getting pulled from his rank. Bill, however, just shrugged casually.
"They think I'm going 'soft.'" The man scoffed, shaking his head in disapproval. "Had to nearly kill Roderick in order to prove that I am not, nor will I ever, be soft. He'll be in the infirmary for a while, so hopefully that will solve that." Bill hummed, lifting his left hand up to play with Dipper's shirt a bit. The boy was a bit disturbed by the words- or, if he was being truthful, a lot disturbed- but he was determined to not think of it that way. After all, it didn't matter that Bill spoke so casually of attempted murder. Dipper knew he wasn't a good man. He didn't need him to be a good man. He just needed him. And besides, it wasn't like the man he had hurt was an innocent. So it wasn't, technically, that bad.
"Well, here's hoping." The boy returned weakly, doing his best to smile at the man, but pretty sure he had failed.
Bill went on, oblivious to Dipper's discomfort, speaking about things that had happened on the ship over the span of the day. Dipper listened as carefully as he could, nodding at the appropriate times. Gradually the unease he felt faded, and he was able to enjoy the man on his lap without any guilt. Well, not as much guilt, at least.
After a few moments had passed, the boy began running his fingers through the captain's locks, silently reveling in the way the smooth strands slide against his hand. Bill didn't seem to mind, as he began humming lightly in contentment. Dipper had to admit that this felt nice, holding his- for lack of a better word- paramour while listening to him speak. Nothing else mattered but feeling this way. Feeling content after so many weeks of fear and pain. His back was finally healing, his shoulder wound was no more than a scar, he no longer was forced to stay in the depressing brig, and he had Bill.
"You've stopped listening again." A voice cut through his thoughts, a tinge of annoyance coloring them. Dipper smiled sheepishly down at the man, who was pouting up at him. The boy leaned and captured those lips with his own, humming his apology into the warm flesh. He still was not used to initiating anything, but it was getting easier each time Bill welcomed him instead of pushed him away. When he pulled back, the man was still pouting, but it wasn't nearly as pronounced.
"Don't think that gets you off the hook, Pine Tree." Bill warned. Contrary to his words, though, the man simply laid his head down on the boy's chest again, playing with his shirt collar. Dipper clicked his tongue lightly in thought, shifting his hold on the man to make it a bit more comfortable.
"Why do you keep calling me that?" He questioned, voicing a thought he had had for a few days. The man knew his name, yet still called him Pine Tree. It baffled the boy. Bill just shrugged.
"Habit, I suppose." Was all the man would say, which Dipper accepted grudgingly. If he was being honest, he would admit he was not that fond of the nickname. It reminded him of before, when he and the captain had not been friendly, and it caused his heart to stutter unpleasantly. Guess he would just have to deal with it, though. He'd have to deal with a lot, with Bill.
Silence overtook them once more after that, their breathing even and relaxed as they simply were. Dipper couldn't help but wonder as they sat if this was wise. If they should be doing this. He tried not to think this, but it was hard not to. Especially in these silent moments, when his thoughts ran wild and the contentment he felt waned just a touch. Insecurity and reality would flood him and he'd wonder. Wonder if it really was wise to feel this way about a pirate. About a murderer. Bill wasn't a good person, he knew this, so why did he feel what he did? Should he be enjoying this as much as he did?
But as he looked down at the man, as he watched Bill lazily draw lines on his chest, he guessed it didn't really matter if he should or shouldn't. He did. He did. God, he did, and it was driving him insane. Two and a half weeks and he felt so much for a man who he never should have felt anything other than vitriol for in the first place. This man had starved him, had beat him, and then had cared for him. He didn't know what to feel about any of this, wanted to just enjoy these sensations, to enjoy Bill, but how could he when the man had done so much bad to him? When, on a whim, the man still could do bad things to him? There was an imbalance of power in their… their… relationship, and Dipper knew that one day that it would topple them over. Could see it, logically. He tightened his grip minutely on the man he was holding and wondered if he would ever mess up so badly that this man would decide to just kill him. If Bill would do that to him. He liked to think he wouldn't, but he honestly didn't know. And it scared him that he didn't.
This was his life. And it would be his life for the foreseeable future. Trapped on a pirate ship, falling for a man who was, for all intents and purposes, insane. He felt himself lean down and kiss the man's hair, his lips lingering over the unwashed, salty smelling hair and hoped that things wouldn't crash around him. That Bill would feel the same way about him. That, for as long as he was trapped, Bill would care for him. That this wasn't just a passing fancy for the captain. He knew the captain wasn't a good man, that he was a murderer, but God, he didn't care. As long as this man cared for him too, as long as he could feel anything other than fear, nothing else mattered. He was Bill's, he was, and he hoped that that would be enough for the man.
Dipper could feel the man shifting on his lap, so he removed his lips and leaned back against the wall he was chained to. His manacles felt heavy in this moment, like a weight dragging him downward, towards an unknown destination. His breath stuttered in his lungs when he felt the captain trail a lazy finger over his right nipple, grasping the man's hip tightly as he tried to contain himself. To ground himself. His chains clanked as he moved his wrist and in the silence of the room it was nearly deafening.
Time passed like that, the two of them silent, sitting together, thoughts running rampant. After a while Dipper turned his face downward, facing the man that was invading his morality, and watched as emotions played on his face. Bill was a private person, but his face was like a window during these soft moments of theirs. A window that reflected everything the man felt, everything he usually kept hidden. It was fascinating and Dipper always found himself enchanted. As he watched this time, he couldn't help but notice the small frown that bloomed on the man's face, the crease between his eyebrows deep and furrowed. The same look that passed over his face occasionally, but never in this moment of theirs. Something was wrong. Dipper frowned to himself as he realized it, running a hand down the man's back.
"Are you alright?" Dipper asked, softly, part of him always feeling that if he was too loud things would break. He watched as Bill blinked up at him, visibly startled, before grinning. Dipper truly hated that grin.
"Whatever do you mean, Pine Tree?" Bill grinned back, sharp and false. Dipper had seen the man's true smile once or twice and this false imposter left the bitterest taste in his mouth. It was as false as this whole relationship of theirs was.
"I mean you look… I don't know, perturbed? I wanted to make sure you were alright. That's… that's all." He explained, shrugging lightly, like he didn't care. He did, though, of course he did. Wanted to help Bill because that's what you were supposed to do for the person you cared about, right? But he didn't want to appear suffocating. Didn't want Bill to get upset and leave. When Bill left, Dipper was by himself. And God did he hate the silence. Bill just chuckled, falsely, and looked at him. His eye was dark and Dipper wondered why.
"Perfectly fine, Pine Tree! Why on Earth wouldn't I be?" Bill practically demanded. Dipper shrugged again.
"I don't know. Because you like to hide things?" Because the man did. Dipper hated it with all of his heart, wanted to understand this man but how could he when the man purposely hid things? He knew it was unwise to say a thing like that, knew it would just make Bill defensive, but at the moment, part of Dipper just didn't care. He was a prisoner. He kind of had stopped caring a while ago. Bill snorted.
"I'm not the only one, Pine Tree." He retorted. Dipper could feel the man getting more and more rigid in his grasp, and wondered absently if he should stop. If he should apologize and move on. But he could tell something was bothering Bill, so he kept going. Wise, unwise. Did it truly matter?
"What do you mean by that?"
Bill looked up at him, eyebrow raised.
"Well, it's not like you show yourself often either, sapling."
"You know more about me than I know about you."
Bill's frown deepened, his eye boring into Dipper as a contemplative look entered it. Dipper stared calmly back.
"Not as such. What I know about you is that your mother was a Noble, your father was a drifter, you care more for your sister than is likely healthy… you like the stars, like to read and to draw, and you enjoy watching the ocean. And that's about it. But me, well, I've told you about myself. What I do. What I've done. I mean, I'm not a complicated person, Pine Tree. Not much more to me than that."
Dipper doubted that. Bill was likely the most complicated person he had ever met. That the captain was just a ruthless, bloodthirsty pirate didn't still well with him. Not just because he didn't want the object of his affections to be a monster, but because he honestly thought that Bill was more than just that. Hoped so, at least.
"I don't believe that." He voiced, wanting to say it. To let the man know he believed it. He could feel Bill stiffen even further in his hands, but he had expected that. Bill wasn't one for emotions, so this likely made him uncomfortable. He did acknowledge that Bill was right, though. He hadn't spoken much of himself, these past couple weeks. It wasn't like he had much reason to. Neither of them really knew much about the other, did they? Funny, he thought humorlessly.
"What else am I, then, Pine Tree?" And wasn't that a loaded question? What exactly was William 'Bill' Cipher? Hell if Dipper knew. He wanted to, which he supposed was the problem. Bitter curiosity never ended well with him.
"I… I don't know. But more than what you portray, I think." Shouldn't say that. Shouldn't believe it. But he had. And he did. Bill didn't like it. Stiffened more. Upset, perhaps. Funny, Dipper had just wanted to help, yet all he had done was make things worse. Always made things worse. Story of his entire life, really.
"You're wrong," was all the man would say. Looked angry, like he was about to lash out. About to argue. Dipper really should keep his mouth shut. Shouldn't fan the flame like he always did. Should let Bill calm himself and keep his secrets.
"I don't think I am. I think you want me to be wrong, but… I'm not. Am I?"
Of course he wouldn't, though. Never could let a sleeping dog lie, could never let his curiosity die with the cat. In this moment he felt wrong inside, like reality wasn't real, and his brain was not connecting well to his mouth. Bill just stared blankly ahead, jaw clenched. Minutes passed like that, Dipper holding a man that was as stiff as a statue and five times as cold.
"Tell me, Pine Tree. How exactly did a boy like you manage to end up on a merchant sailing ship? Seems like a huge difference from a Noble lifestyle." Bill spoke minutes later, voice sounding pleasant but with a layer of frigid ice lying beneath. Dipper, for the first time, felt himself stiffen. He looked down at the man and saw a blank, expressionless mask staring back at him. So cold.
"How did you manage to end up a pirate?" Dipper shot back, his eye boring into Bill's. He had been expecting the man's question for a while, knew that the captain likely was curious about him, but he knew that that wasn't why he had asked right then. No, Bill had asked to hurt him. Because Bill was perceptive and he likely knew that story hurt. But Dipper was also perceptive. And he knew just what would hurt Bill back. Why was he hurting Bill? Dipper didn't know. Couldn't know.
"Had always been an aspiration of mine. Was always a fan of murder! Thought that being a pirate would be a lark, and boy had I been right!" The man grinned icily.
"Liar."
Silence overtook them again after that. He could feel Bill's heart beating against his chest, could feel the man's warm breath fan over his neck. He didn't take much comfort from these things, though. He felt cold, inside. Earlier, while kissing this man, he had felt like he was on fire. Now, with reality fluttering in through the shutters, a coldness was invading him against his will. Not like the coldness that had invaded in the brig, but like a darkness. An evil. Inside him. He didn't know what to make of it.
"You think you know me better than I know myself, Pine Tree?"
"I know I don't know you, Bill. I think that that's part of the problem."
More silence. But that was alright. Dipper was feeling off, wrong. He wanted to stuff these feelings away, wanted to put them in a little box and never feel them again like he always did with unpleasant emotions, but he found he couldn't. He felt… upset inside, looking at the man he knew but didn't know. Bill… he wanted to know Bill. Wanted to know if he was right to feel what he did about him. Needed to know if he truly was completely evil, or if he had a shred of decency in him. And in this moment, looking down at that mystery of a man… well, maybe he didn't regret opening Pandora's Box. These thoughts, these feelings… they had been eating at him from the moment he had first felt them, that night Bill had stolen a kiss like the thief he was. He had tried to push them down, had tried to just ignore it all, but they never truly went away. And he knew that he would go even more insane if he didn't voice them. Today, tomorrow, a week from then; it would have had to happen eventually. At least now it wouldn't hurt quite as badly if Bill decided to hate him again.
"Why should I tell you anything about myself? You're just a prisoner. Hate to break it to you, but you're nothing, Pine Tree. Nothing." Cold words. Harsh words. Meant to hurt, meant to cut. They did. Oh, they did.
"Then why am I here? W-why did you even bother sparing my life?" Dipper questioned, his heart clenching. He wasn't hurt, he was just a bit upset. To be hurt would mean he hadn't expected the words. But… but he had. Had always expected them.
A pause. Dipper could feel the statue he was grasping tightly jerk, could see the marble features crack only briefly. To him, it looked like grief. Dipper wondered what the man was grieving.
"You interested me. Nothing more." Flat. Not like the man usually sounded. Too false.
"Liar." He whispered. Knew it to be a lie. Had to be. Bill said nothing. Just stared straight ahead. Dipper didn't like that. Didn't like how cold this man felt. He removed one of his hands from the man's back and brought it up to his face, grasping it gently yet firmly. The man resisted him, but Dipper forced him to look up at him. Needed to see his face. Needed to see him.
"Liar." Dipper breathed again, looking into that blank eye. A crack, barely there but Dipper could see it. He could see pain in a single instant of time, and that was all he needed to see. He saw the man open his mouth to say something, likely a refute, but he refused to let him. Before the man could even get the first sound out, Dipper had jerked the man's face upwards whilst he descended downward, pressing his lips forcefully to unmoving ones. Pressed, pressed, and wouldn't stop pressing. Couldn't.
He felt Bill start, felt him try and jerk back, but Dipper did not let him. Clutched his hair, the soft strands tightly confined in his prison of fingers. Held him in place, held him pressed against his lips. It felt wrong, felt frigid and forbidding, but Dipper had to keep pressing. God, he had to keep pressing. Bill didn't move against him, did not press back. He simply sat there, unmoving. Dipper wanted to cry. He didn't quite know why. Dipper pressed harder, more forceful, darker. He hated it, hated what he was doing, but he had to keep going. He didn't know why, but… but he had to.
Just as he was about to pull away, just as he was about to give up searching for whatever it was he was desperately trying to find, heart crumbling like fragile glass, he felt lips pressing back. It started slow, but soon Bill was giving as much as Dipper took. Desperate for something neither of them could name, desperate for something to destroy whatever was inside them. He could feel Bill shaking, could feel the man move his legs so he was straddling him, could feel the man pressed so close to him. It was all Dipper could do to keep hold, hands shifting to lithe hips. He could feel tears fall down his face and he wondered why they were falling. What exactly was he sad for? H-he had Bill. That was all that mattered. Right?
"My parents were murdered by pirates." Dipper whispered up at the man whose lips had parted from his briefly, who was arched over him as he straddled his legs. He could feel Bill stiffen, but he had to say this. Something… something told him he had to say this.
"When I was fifteen. W-we had been visiting our grandparents, mother's parents. I had been out, out on the town, looking in the book shop. When the screams came from outside, I rushed out and saw fire. Everywhere, fire." He breathed, eyes widening as he remembered the day.
"It was a-a nightmare. I ran, ran back to my grandparents' house, needed to find my family. My sister. I hadn't known, then, what had caused the fire. Had only seen the flames. Hadn't… hadn't realized that the flames had been caused by something." Dipper paused, taking a shaky breath. He didn't know why he was sharing this, didn't know why he was speaking words that were vital to him, that were so close to his heart and soul. Words he never thought of, never spoke of. But he felt he had to. Had to. In this moment, Bill looking down at him, darkness shrouding him since the lantern had long since burned out, Dipper had to speak these words. Needed to remember them, needed to… needed to not forget. God, he was forgetting. He was forgetting everything.
"I learned soon, though. On my way back, to the house, I had run into a man. Dressed in ragged and tattered clothing, a bandana on his head and a vile grin on his face. I had never seen one in person, before, but I knew that this man was a pirate. He tried to grab me, but I ran. I-I was always quick.
"I ran to the house faster then. Knew that I had to find my family. Mabel..." His breath hitched, eyes closing as he began to shake. "I had to find Mabel. M-my sister.
"I reached the house soon and it was… it was on fire, like everything else. Burning, blackened and charring. I ran inside. K-knew I had to. Knew they were in there. Had to be." He felt Bill jerk slightly, but he didn't stop to wonder why. Couldn't stop. He no longer could control his words, they were spilling out, tumbling from his lips like poison gas. He wanted to stop, wanted to never reveal his heart to this man, this man who didn't even care for him, but he just couldn't. It hurt too much to keep inside any longer. He couldn't stuff it back inside his little box now that he had begun. He couldn't.
"Inside the house I ran down the halls and went t-to the parlor. Knew… knew they were in there. Had to be… had to be in there. I ran in, mouth covered by my sleeve, begging for my parents to hear me, to answer. I-I didn't get far i-into t-the room before… before tripping… t-tripping o-on…" A sob came from his throat, his voice shaking as he tried to say the words. No… "My mother." A whisper, so soft even he could barely hear it. But he didn't care. He felt so wrong inside, like he was shattering.
"Face blank, e-eyes dull. No life in them, no life… no life. I screamed, I begged her to please get up, I-I needed her to get up, but she didn't. And when I looked next to her, when I saw m-my… m-my f-father…" He trailed off. Couldn't say what he had done. Couldn't admit to how he had vomited, away from his parents, how he had cried like a child, the acrid scent of smoke invading the room. Never wanted to think of the panic and pain he had felt as cruel reality had sunk in, as his mind refused to wake from the nightmare he had found himself in. God, he had wanted to wake up. He still did.
"T-they were gone. M-my grandparents too. B-but not Mabel. Not... not Mabel." He whispered, eyes opening and looking at the golden citrine that was staring intently at him. He felt lost as he looked into it.
"I-I went to find her. Had to, had to find her. S-she was all I had left. She had to be alive, she had to." He stressed, needing Bill to believe him. Mabel had been alive, she had to have been. She couldn't have been dead. He had known she couldn't have been dead, please God she couldn't have been dead.
"I ran through the house, up the stairs, dodging fire, s-screaming for Mabel. My lungs hurt, b-but I had to find her, I had to find her." His heart was pounding, he was shaking. His eyes were locked with Bill's single one, his hands gripping the man's hips tightly, bruising. The man didn't wince.
"Her room. Second door to the left, across the-the hall from mine. Burst in, screaming. She had to be… she had to be in there. I looked and looked, but I couldn't see her. Was about to-to move on, look elsewhere, when I heard… heard something. From the clothes bin, along the back wall. Ran to it. Opened it. And she was there. Alive." Dipper gasped out, a tear falling from his left eye. He would never be able to describe the complete and total relief he had felt at seeing her, alive. The bone melting, heart stopping, gut punching feeling of relief. So he didn't even bother trying.
"S-she looked so small. S-so scared. Didn't even n-notice me, her hands covering her ears, her eyes shut tight. I-I touched her lightly and she screamed." It had hurt him. Seeing her eyes so wide, so scared, so hurting. She hadn't seen him, then, hadn't known he was even there. Another tear slipped down his face as he remembered the expression that was forever burned into his memory.
"But we couldn't stay there. The fire… I could hear it getting louder. Closer. W-we had to go." He whispered, shifting. Bill was still staring at him. No words. No expression. No actions. Just… staring. Dipper stared back.
"I had grabbed her. H-had to, I had to! She screamed, and screamed, and screamed, but I had to get her out. Had to…" A sob came from his throat, tears slipping passed his eyelids. Mabel had been so frantic, so hurting. He had hurt her by grabbing her, but he had been afraid. They had to go. The smoke was thick, the room was smoldering, about to catch aflame. He didn't have time to be… to be gentle, they needed to go.
"I remember… remember speaking at her. Frantic words. Begged her to stop fighting me, begged her to come with me. I-I was crying. Sobbing. I needed her to stop screaming. Needed her to… to come with me." He shook, tears now steadily falling down his face. His eyes never left Bill's face.
"E-eventually… eventually she listened. S-still crying, s-still upset, but she knew it was me. I grabbed her hand and we ran. Down the halls, past the growing patches of-of fire. I-into t-the parlor." He hadn't wanted to bring them back there, but it was the only way out. The staircase was right next to the room, the only way out was through it. The room had been on fire then, but they only needed to go through quickly. It shouldn't have been a problem.
"M-Mabel fought me, s-screamed when w-we tried to go in there. T-thought it was because of-of my p-parents, but soon found out i-it was because a p-pirate was in there. S-she had rendered o-one unconscious, w-while escaping." Because Mabel had been there, when their parents… she had seen it, seen all of it. Dipper didn't even know the full extent of what she had seen that day, she refused to ever say.
"T-the pirate… he-he had laid back, hiding. It w-wasn't until we were nearly out of the room that he pounced. Caught m-me by surprise. Crowded us back, back against the fire, blocked the e-exit, fire glinting on his blade. W-we were trapped. C-couldn't escape. Could never escape." He gasped again, remember that feeling. The same feeling he had felt for over two weeks now, that helplessness, that panic. Trapped, trapped, endlessly, always, trapped.
"I-I t-thought… I thought that we… that we were g-going t-t-to die." He whispered, voice hoarse, more tears falling down his cheeks. "Thought that was it. I-I think part of me wanted it." Oh so soft, so quiet he barely made any sound, a dark admission he never spoke of. But Bill stiffened above him, and Dipper knew he had heard. Could see it in the brief flash of emotion in that stony eye. He kept going.
"B-but I could feel Mabel… Mabel shivering behind me. C-could feel her-her hand shaking. And I… I knew I couldn't stop. S-she needed me. She needed me." That had been enough. Feeling her pressed against his back, so afraid, so terrified, had taken him from his thoughts of death and reminded him why he needed to keep living. His parents were dead, his grandparents were dead, but not Mabel. She was alive and she needed him to be alive for her. So he would. Even though he hurt so badly inside, he would stay alive. For her.
"S-so I looked for a weapon. Something that would make the p-pirate leave us alone. I s-saw then the fire p-poker, to our right, kicked f-from its usual home. I-I had barely thought as I led us over to it. As I bent down w-while the p-pirate was distracted, i-ignoring the warm metal. I-I held the poker and-and waited for an o-opening. The fire… it made something fall, in the house. The pirate started, p-pausing in the disgusting words he had-had been spewing, l-looking at the f-fire around us. I had-had my opening. As he, as he turned back to us, I took the poker and jammed it into his right eye. The p-pirate s-screamed and tried to salvage the eye, but I never would figure out if-if he did or not. As soon as he pulled back, I had taken Mabel and had run." And run. And run. He hadn't stopped, had fled out of the house, into the woods, away from the fire, away from the pirates. Mabel had struggled to keep up with him, but he had dragged her along. They had to keep moving. Had to keep going.
"We ran for a while. Into the woods, d-dodging trees. We didn't stop until the stench of fire was gone. Until I could no longer smell b-burning flesh. Only then did we stop. Only then… only then did we rest." He closed his eyes once more, a bitter smile rising on his lips. "Mabel collapsed beside me. Didn't move, didn't say anything. H-her eyes were dark. Dead. S-she usually was so full of life. But not then. And not again for a long while." It had killed him, seeing his sister so destroyed. But he hadn't known what to do to help her. How to make it better. He hadn't even learned the basics of what happened that night for several months, how could ever have hoped to sooth the pain she felt inside?
"W-when the scent of smoke finally cleared, w-when w-we thought it was-was safe, we went back to town. Had to, had nowhere else to go." He whispered, closing his eyes tighter. "The town was destroyed. The sh-shops and h-houses charred or collapsed. A-a naval ship was in the harbor, which w-we went to. They sent us with a man, who asked us a-about our remaining family. I had… I had remembered our Great Uncle, from our father's side. H-he was a sea merchant, b-but they said they would find a way to get a letter to him. A month later, he arrived. And he took us with him."
Dipper opened his eyes then, looking back up into Bill's. The man still had no expression, not a single emotion passed through his eye. Dipper could feel more tears fall from his eyes, his breathing uneven as he tried to calm his mind down. Silence prevailed after that, thick and invading. Dipper's mind was blank as he shook with emotion.
"Why did you tell me this?" A voice asked, lowly, softly. Dipper shivered, not really sure what to say.
"You asked," was all he could think of to say, to defend himself. He honestly didn't know why he had told. Why he allowed himself to tell this vital story to a man he never should have told it to. He could feel Bill jerk beneath his fingers and he tightened his grip. Didn't want to let go, didn't want this whole thing to have been a mistake. But then Bill let out a barely audible sigh and sat back, his hips pressing against Dipper's, his face no longer high above but rather right in front. Dipper could feel warm breath fan across his lips and let out a shudder. Warm lips pressed softly against his and he let them. Moved softly back. Needed to. Shouldn't want this man, shouldn't want his comfort, shouldn't feel this for the same kind of monster who had destroyed him so utterly a year before. But he did. Something was wrong with him, and he did.
"I suppose I did." A whisper breathed across his tongue. Soft, barely heard. Dipper gripped his hips tighter and pressed his lips harder, wanting to feel the sick pleasure this man gave him. Didn't want to feel the death he constantly felt inside. The rot, the plague. Just wanted to forget yet he could never forget. Dared not to forget for what would happen to him if he did. He wondered, then, what his parents would think if they could see him now. Wondered if he'd disgust them. He disgusted himself.
"Whose ship was it?" The man questioned softly, looking at him intently. Dipper shuddered as the name rose in his head, a name that had haunted his mind for months despite the fact he had never met the man.
"Captain Jackson Hallow. Known for pillaging rich port towns and leaving nothing but ashes in his wake." The boy informed, a soft scowl rising on his lips, which brushed against Bill's with every words he uttered. He could feel the man nod slowly against him.
"Captains the ship Dark Destiny. Yes, I know Jackson." Bill said, no inflection in his words. Dipper was unsure how he felt about the words.
Silence overcame them again after that, both thinking about the words that had been spoken. They stayed pressed against one another for long minutes, neither pulling away, neither pushing away. Dipper could feel Bill pressed against him, but he didn't feel anything inside. He was so cold, his heart was freezing in his chest. The statue he held did not help. Just made things worse. But he couldn't bear to let go. Didn't dare.
"I killed a man." That soft voice claimed minutes later, the barest hint of space separating the two bodies. Dipper looked at that dark, citrine eye, and waited, wondering where the man was going with that. Bill did not disappoint.
"Before I was born, my mother was a Noble. Lived in a grand house. Never wanted for anything. Had the world handed to her on a silver platter. But, sixteen, fanciful, she disdained her life of restrictions and longed for more. When she met an Egyptian man in the lower levels, dark and mysterious, she fell. He offered her the freedom she longed for and she bought it." The man told, voice a whisper. Dipper had to strain his ears to hear.
"Her parents did not approve. Forbade her from ever meeting with the man. She rebelled, and ran away with the man. Brought with her gold and jewels, what they'd need to live. Thought they'd get married when they'd reached a decent town far from her family. She was a fool, though. He brought her to a hotel, had his way with her, and was gone when the sun rose the next morning, along with the gold and the jewels. She returned home, but they wouldn't take her back. Called her sullied and ruined." A soft laugh, barely more than a huff of air, bitter. "Sent her to the streets. Sure got her freedom there!" Another laugh, darker, more manic. Dipper tightened his grip. Remembered dark words this man had uttered to him once, little over a week before. Seemed he finally found out why his words had affected the man so.
"She hadn't known then, but soon she would find out that the man had left her a present after all. A child. Unwanted, unwelcome, but very much there. When I was born nine months later, she was barely even able to survive the burden. But she did. And she took me with her, caring for me begrudgingly." Dipper felt the man move, felt him drift closer. The boy let his iron grip of lithe hips go and wrapped his arms instead around the man's lower back, allowing them the closeness they both desired. He could feel a heart beating against his own, frantic and pounding.
"But she never loved me. Fed me, looked out for me, but she didn't have it in her to love. Not anymore. Wouldn't have known I was even the man's son, had I not had his eyes and his darker skin. That was the only reason she kept me, she always said. Had I not had his features she would have dropped me into a well." A pause. A warm sigh against his neck.
"She hated me. Despised me. We slept under bridges, in alleyways… behind bins. Wherever we could find shelter. She spent most of the day and night away, attempting to get enough to feed the two of us, but when she was around she'd glare at me. Like it was my fault we were living in the streets. To her, it likely was. It was always my fault." Dark words, dark tone. Dipper had never heard the man sound so serious. Perhaps this was what the man was like when he wasn't putting on airs. When he wasn't hiding behind insanity and madness. Dipper wasn't sure what he thought of it.
"She used to call me a demon. Said she saw evil in me. I had tried to show her I wasn't. I smiled, I grinned. Acted happy, acted good. Wore yellow to counteract that darkness she always said she saw. Never worked, but I tried. Can't say I hadn't tried." The man stressed, strain in his voice. Like he was forcing the words out, like he hated them.
"She died when I was ten. Illness. Went to sleep one night, never woke up. I stayed by her side for days. Just sat. Didn't cry, didn't scream. Just… sat. Waited. When the body started to decompose, I left. Never looked back.
"I was on my own then. Had to look out for myself. Growing up I had learned how to be quick, how to thieve. Mother had never approved, said it was a sin, but I hadn't cared. God didn't care for me, why should I care for his laws? On my own, I did what I had to to survive. Didn't want to die, didn't want to give in." The man began to shake. Anger or grief, Dipper didn't know. Bill's face was hidden in his neck, his words slightly muffled, so Dipper couldn't see. He rubbed soothing circles onto a warm back either way. Was unable to do anything else.
"Two years passed. Long years, cold years. Hated it on those streets, but I had little other choices. Inside I grew colder. Could feel it inside me like an illness, like a disease. I had welcomed it. Still do. Kept me alive then and it keeps me alive now. I moved from place to place, grinning all the while. Met all sorts of interesting people as I went, hardly any ever looked at me twice. But that was fine. I didn't need them to look at me. Just needed their money." Another pause. A deep breath.
"But then, one day, I had been in an alley. Things had been bad for a while, my mind muddied and my thoughts dark. I had been on high alert for months, eyes darting back and forth, an itch under my skin that never could be satisfied. When a man followed me from the streets into that alley, and had called to me, I had felt my heart clench and my mind blank. When he cornered me against the wall, saying such disgusting things, I had felt my fingers splay." Bill grinned, then, sharp and deadly. Dipper felt it against his neck, and it caused him to hold his breath. "And when he tried to touch me, tried to force me back against the wall, I fought back. I was thin, sickly, but I was fast. Had to be, to survive. I saw a knife on the man's belt and had grabbed it. And then I plunged it into his heart. And I did it again. And again. And again. Never stopped, kept going until he was little more than a bloody pulp under my hands, until there was nothing left. Until the demon inside of me was satisfied. Oh, it was exhilarating!" Dark laughter. The head that was leaning against his neck left after that, the man's head thrown backwards, golden eye closed.
"I left then. Blood on my hands, on my clothes, yellow tinged red. I was grinning and I didn't stop. Not until that night. Not until I had fallen to my knees and had wept. For what I had done, for what I was. It hadn't surprised me, though. Had always had a darkness inside of me, Mother had always seen it. Had always called me a demon. Wasn't until that night, though, that I recognized it inside myself." Bill paused here, his breath catching as he slowly opened his eye, his grin still dark and manic. Dipper stared at the man, unable to feel anything. His heart was still frozen, but distantly he could feel grief. For who, he didn't know.
"I had fled then. Onto a boat, a stowaway. Had needed to be far from that alley, far from the blood that would never leave my hands. I had used to think of myself as good, had once wanted to be good. But I wasn't. God had forsaken me, if there was even a God in the first place. On that ship I had hoped to find a new beginning. To find a way to reconcile the demon I was to the person I had always wished to be." Laughter, then, high-pitched and insane. Dipper tightened his grip on the man's back, looking into a manic and depraved eye. The madness was back.
"But that would never happen! I'd never get to try and expel the demon in me, because three weeks after boarding that ship, they were raided by pirates. And I was found. Oh, I fought, tried to escape, but I was too weak! They dragged me into their brig and they had their way with me! Ha! Did such horrible things to me! Ha-ha!" Bill laughed, head thrown back, eye wide and manic, a brokenness in them that made something inside Dipper break. Made the boy gasp, shudder as he watched this man come undone. He understood the man's meaning. Understood what had happened to him. Perhaps now he finally understood why the captain had stopped those pirates that first day.
The boy watched as the captain laughed, his frozen heart jolting with grief, more pronounced now than before. He raised his hand and gently grasped the man's face, wanting to somehow ground him. It did manage to make him stop laughing, but it didn't make that destroyed look leave his eye. Didn't make his frozen grin go away. Dipper hated it.
"I don't think I hated as much as I hated in those days." Bill whispered, grin still stretched wide on his face. "Oh, what they had done to me. Such terrible things. I gave up restraining what was inside me, then, because there was no point anymore. I was a monster, a demon. A freak. A murderer. And as I broke free of my prison, as I set fire to that ship and slashed the captain's throat, I grew to love it. I took a row boat and rowed back to shore, letting the flames burn high behind me. Once I was back on land, I found myself the first pirate ship I could and joined their crew as a cabin boy. Became the monster I had always been, embraced it. And oh, was I good." He chuckled, dark. Dipper could feel the man drawing away, but he held tight. Didn't want the man to leave. Didn't want him to go away and leave him here alone. The man didn't try and leave again.
They sat together in silence for long moments after that. No words, no sounds. There was nothing either could think to say. Dipper was at a loss, his heart cold and aching. He could feel Bill shaking against him, more fragile than the man had ever allowed himself to be around the boy, and it scared him. It was unnatural, and part of him hated it. The other part felt overwhelmed that such a man as this would allow himself to crack in front of him. Dipper didn't think that Bill had broken completely, not like he had during his tale, but it was still more than he had ever expected.
When he felt lips meet his again, he did not move. Did not respond, not at first. Was unsure if he should or not, was unsure if he should still care for a proclaimed murderer. But the lips were warm, and he was so cold. So he eventually moved back, letting his tongue slid against the man's, arching up to press his body closer. He could feel warmth trickling into him as they kissed, felt like he could breathe again.
"You killed your father, didn't you?" He heard himself ask moments later, once he had pulled back and was simply leaning against the man. He could feel Bill stiffen, and part of him regretted asking, especially so soon after the captain had revealed as much information as he had.
"Yes." The man breathed back, words sharp and harsh. "He was not my father, but I found and killed the man who had impregnated my mother and who shared my name completely, before I changed my surname to better suit myself. William Runihura, a con man I found on the coast, wooing another woman out of her money. I was fifteen, but it didn't stop me from gutting the man, when he couldn't even recall my mother's name. Did the same to my mother's parents, later that year. They had refused to acknowledge me as their grandson, not that I wanted them to, so I tied them up and burned their house to the ground with them inside. I didn't regret it, and I still don't."
Dipper had expected the words. Had known for over a week that this man had killed his family. It still made him shudder unpleasantly, though. With nothing else to do, he pressed his lips back against Bill's. He hated himself for doing it, hated himself for wanting this man, but he had long since come to terms with it. Something was wrong with him that he wanted this man. He understood that. Why deny the truth he knew? Why deny himself something that made his heart feel less broken and rotted? So the man had murdered his father and grandparents. So what? It didn't change how he felt.
They kissed for a while after that, the gentle press the only sensation Dipper allowed himself to feel. As time passed, he could feel his heart defrosting, could feel the dark atmosphere fading. He still felt raw from revealing his heart, but he no longer felt the darkness inside him. He was sure it was still there, lurking behind the curtains, but he wasn't about to go searching for it. He had told Bill about his parent's death. He had listened to Bill tell about how exactly he had become a pirate. And he was still alive and he was still partially sane. That was all he could focus on. That was all he allowed himself to focus on.
Eventually the two of them shifted, Bill removing himself from his lap, but not leaving. Instead, they swapped positions, Bill sitting against the wall while Dipper leaned against him, lips pressed against one another's. Dipper didn't complain. He liked being held, feeling warm arms around him, soothing him. They did not move for the rest of the night, Dipper simply resting his head on Bill's chest while their legs tangled beneath them once they had finished kissing. After a while they spoke softly to one another, words of no consequence, words of nothing and everything. Tired, nonsense words that would be forgotten come morning, words that had no meaning and yet all the meaning in the world.
Eventually Dipper fell asleep, the feeling of soft fingers carding through his hair lulling him. He'd think things through later. Right then, he was tired and his heart hurt. So he slept. And, for the first time in a year, he didn't dream of fire or death.
He dreamed, instead, of himself and Bill watching the ocean together.
P.S. I was rereading this chapter and realized I don't really explain why Bill was upset (prior to Dipper's trying and failing to comfort him). Basically, Bill is starting to feel for Dipper and it's freaking him out. Dipper's prying made him kind of close off. Just so you all know.