Hey everyone!

So... this chapter. Aha. I have problems with it. Mostly with the fact that it's kind of... pointless. To be honest, it's more of a transition chapter than anything, kind of like chapters 3 and 8. So I'm mostly going over things I've already gone over, to conclude them. Mostly, I wanted to hammer in that Dipper? Is NOT doing okay. So... yeah. This chapter was also the crux of my writer's block, taking over a month to write, so it's kind of disjointed. I did my best to fix it, so I hope you all like it.

Anyway, who's excited for the last episode of Gravity Falls? I know I am. Excited, and terrified. It's either going to be the best birthday present ever, or the worst (since my birthday is the 10th, five days before the finale). Here's hoping we don't die with our feels.

And, finally, the bad news... I've not been doing well, with writing. Things are kind of... stressful. As mentioned above, my birthday is in less than a month, and I'm... not too thrilled. Turning eighteen is kind of, eh, terrifying. Mix in school, a stupid science fair project, and life in general, things are not going well. I want to finish this story, but... I think I may need to take a break. I'm sorry. I still have one more chapter written, but after that... it may be a little while.

Well... enjoy.

Dipper sat upright with his back against the wall, a leather bound book held tightly in his hands. The boy's focus was completely on the words in front of him, reading them almost religiously. After three weeks of not reading, this simple book of constellations was like heaven. He completely ignored the man who was sauntering around the cabin. After all, he had been in this room for a week now. Ignoring Bill had gotten a lot easier in that time, as used to him as he was, though he did occasionally find his eyes straying from their positions, wherever they had landed.

But not then. Right then he was engrossed in his book, reading the words like a man dying of thirst. When Bill had thrown the book at him that morning, he had been at first confused. When his captain had turned from him, saying nothing as he simply exited the cabin, Dipper had lifted the book, wondering why the man had given it to him. It was kind of embarrassing how long it had taken for him to realize that it had been a gift, something to help with the boredom. He had confessed to Bill the day before that he sometimes felt bored just sitting there for hours during the day, and the man must have taken the words to heart. It had been with a soaring heart that the boy had begun reading, the words more precious than he had ever thought words could be.

He had missed reading. Had missed the feel of a solid book in his hands, missed being able to lose himself in words. He recalled, with a touch of longing, the books he had bought at port before this whole fiasco had started. It seemed like such a distant memory, like it had happened years ago, as opposed to the three weeks it had been. It was bizarre, though, just how normal this made him feel. For weeks he had struggled with feeling like a new person, feeling different than he had once been. Sitting here, reading this book… reminded him that while things may be different, he was still himself. He was still Dipper Pines, book lover extraordinaire. He wasn't completely different. It was a relief to think, really.

He was so engrossed in his book that he hadn't even noticed the lack of sound until he saw the black gloved fingers gently wrap around the top of his book and push it carefully down, which Dipper allowed. The bright golden eye that was staring at him so intensely made his breath catch, made his heart clench. So bright. Like the sun. Blinding.

"Hey there, Pine Tree." Bill said, quietly, an odd smirk on his mouth. Dipper had noticed that Bill had looked at him weirdly ever since that night. That night when he had shared a story so personal, so… so private that he was surprised he didn't feel regret. Three days, and no regret. But he supposed it shouldn't surprise him. Not when Bill looked at him so softly. Not when he felt so warm. He had always been so cold, inside, ever since he had lost his parents and had seen the darkness consume his twin. Warmth was so foreign to him. How could he resist? He didn't even mind the nickname anymore. He didn't mind anything. Part of him wondered if he should be concerned, but the majority of him had finally settled on not caring. He had given in. Completely.

"Hey, Bill." He replied, equally as quiet. He was always quiet, now. Didn't want this to break. Especially not now.

Bill said nothing in return, simply stared. Dipper stared back, calmly, warmly. The book was still held in his hands, he felt it, but it didn't hold his interest just then. Bill was more important than a silly book. He wondered, briefly, what Bill wanted, but wouldn't mind if he hadn't wanted anything. It wouldn't be the first time. Bill liked attention, after all. Dipper had always known that. The man hated it when people ignored him.

Moments ticked by, before Bill dropped his gaze to the book. A small smirk found its way onto his lips, less odd than the previous one had been.

"I see you are enjoying the book I found for you." Bill said smoothly, eye meeting his again. Dipper smiled back, noticing the way Bill started slightly. He hadn't really smiled at Bill before, not open and honest like this one was. He had only really begun over the past three days, so he supposed it made sense that the man was still a bit surprised each time he did it.

"I was, until you interrupted me." Dipper scolded with no heat. He was still smiling, a soft smile that he hadn't smiled since he had been on The Mystery. A smile he usually reserved for his sister, or occasionally Wendy. It felt nice to smile it again. He heard Bill snort softly, which made his smile widen. It hurt his cheeks, a little, but he'd live with it.

"You were ignoring me. Can't have that, can we?" Bill questioned, eyebrow raised high. Dipper nodded slowly, understanding. After all, he had come up with the same conclusion. And Bill did deserve his attention, he supposed.

"No. We can't." Dipper repeated, eyes firmly on Bill. He felt a thrill of something flood through him at the lascivious look Bill gave him, a look that still made his stomach clench. Pleasantly, of course. No need for anything unpleasant.

His kiss made his veins heat, as it always did. He kissed back, eager and willing. It was so nice, kissing Bill so freely. Without the hatred and self-hatred filling him. Oh, all of that was still there, deep inside of him. Of course it was. The feelings were too intense to simply fade away. But he just didn't care anymore. At all. It was so much easier to not care, wasn't it? Yes. Yes, it was. So much more pleasant. So much nicer. So he was being morally wrong. So he had completely gone against everything he had ever believed in. So what? So what? His morals weren't helping him, here. Bill was. Bill was, and Bill was doing it so sweetly, so wonderfully. Dipper wanted this. Dipper needed this. Didn't want to lose this. Not ever.

When Bill pulled back, minutes later, Dipper found himself letting out a soft, high-pitched whine, leaning forwards to try and make Bill come back. But Bill just chuckled, his eye hooded and his lips curled into a delicate smile, keeping his distance. Dipper watched him stand up and move back over to his dresser, pulling the black, leather gloves off and putting them away. Bill had told him once that he wore the gloves to counteract the frigid air while he was steering the ship. Dipper liked them; they were soft and felt smooth against his skin.

Dipper watched Bill move around the cabin for a couple minutes, before turning back to his book with a small, happy sound. He made sure to keep aware of Bill, though, knowing the man would be upset if he didn't. After a little while, Bill started speaking again, words about the weather and the conditions of the ship. Mundane and not particularly necessary or interesting. But Dipper listened all the same, raptly, putting his book aside even though he'd love to keep reading. Bill mattered more than his book, he thought. Mattered more than his wants. R-right?

Things weren't perfect. Dipper knew that. He was still trapped on a pirate shop with no hope of escape... But then, did he even want to escape anymore? Part of him thought he should. Mabel… but while he was here, he had Bill. He would never be able to have both, both sister and lover. So while part of him longed for home, he wasn't exactly looking to escape. Especially after what happened last time… he saw now that Bill had been right, in punishing him. It was the right thing to do. He had deserved the lashes, deserved Bill's wrath. He was lucky his captor- no, no, his savior, Bill had saved him from those pirates the first night and had continued to keep him safe- was no longer mad at him. He would have deserved it. Deserved Bill's anger. Wouldn't he? Yes, he decided with a firm nod. Yes, he would, and still did. He was lucky Bill wasn't angry, anymore. So lucky. That was him, huh? Lucky Dipper Pines…

"We're scheduled to reach our destination in a little over a week." Bill stated after a lapse in his monologue, words almost too casual. Dipper would have missed them, had he not been paying such good attention to his lover's words. When they registered, the boy felt himself stiffen, eyes wide as he looked over at Bill.

"Oh." Oh. Their, uh, destination. He had… had managed to forget about that, for a while there. Had forgotten about the… the slave trade, had thought… well, he didn't know what he had thought. That Bill would- would change his mind? That he wouldn't sell him? Had he- had he been wrong? As he stared with his wide eyes, seeing only the man's lean back, he wondered if he had. It certainly put a damper on his previous contentment, his mood plummeting faster than was likely healthy.

"The wind has been with us. We've made good time." The man continued, rustling through some papers, but Dipper was barely listening. He could feel panic filling his heart against his will, his thoughts racing.

He wondered what it would be like, living as a slave. Not good, he knew that. Oh dear. He tried not to think of it, tried to tell himself that he was mistaken, that Bill surely wasn't going to sell him, couldn't sell him, but the panic invaded his body. His heart froze, his previous contentment completely gone. He gripped the book in his hands tightly and tried to breathe.

Goddammit, he had finally come to terms with being trapped on this godforsaken ship, had given in to Bill, had thought that if he behaved maybe he'd be safe! That he wouldn't be hurt anymore! But this… oh, this changed everything.

He had thought things were going well! He had thought… had thought that he had been what Bill wanted. Clearly not, he thought, heart beating as he stared wide eyed at the wall, no longer able to stare at that lean back.

He was so tired. He just wanted to be safe, to not be constantly worrying. To not have to fight every second he was alive. Here, it was… well, not easy, but certainly not impossible. Who knew what would happen if he was sold to an uncaring owner? At least Bill cared. Right? Right?! … Right.

So why was he going to sell him? That was the question.

God, he was tired. This worry… this panic… it was eating him. Devouring him. He hated it. Hated it like he hated nothing else. The pleasure he had gotten from Bill was so much better, so much easier. It was easy, to push the self-hatred, the disgust down. Easy now that he had given Bill everything he had. Everything he was. Now that he had given up, finally, truly.

It hurt him, to think that Bill was going to sell him. That he was… that Bill wanted him gone. That his struggle to get to here was worthless. That it was all in vain.

Dipper could feel his heart pounding, could feel fear and panic trickling into his blood. And sadness. For what he would lose, here. Funny, Bill had become important to him. More important than he had any right to be. And yet… yet he wasn't important to Bill.

Funny.

Dipper felt his eyes closing, his mind fuzzing as he tried to slow his heart, calm his mind-numbing fear. He tried to listen to Bill, tried to hear the words that the man refused to ever stop spewing, but he couldn't. Couldn't get his ears to work as his chest compressed, his body shaking uncontrollably. He tried to catch his breath but it felt like a struggle. Like he couldn't. Like he was drowning.

Like a man drowning, getting pulled downward by relentless waves.

Like he was going to die.

(He didn't want to die.)

(He didn't want to die.)

(He didn't… he-he didn't-)

(He was going to die.)

(Alone.)

(Afraid.)

(Forgotten.)

(Would anyone miss him?)

(

No.)

(CantbreathecantbreathecantbreathecantbreatheCANTBREATHECANTBREATHECANT-)

He distantly felt fingers touching his face, could hear the fainted muffle of a voice, but it was like he was underwater. Everything was slow, sluggish. The fingers burned where they touched his face, but he couldn't feel it.

Couldn't feel anything.

(Only panic.)

His cheek suddenly stung, sharp pain that made him gasp, air filling his lungs only briefly. He opened his eyes and looked at the man in front of him. Saw the hesitance and uncertainty on the usually confidant face.

He didn't know what to make of it.

(It made him feel warm.)

(And afraid.)

(No.)

(Terrified.)

He tried to speak, tried to say something, but his chest clenched again, and he was forced to bend to accommodate. Warm fingers trailed over his face. Over his hair.

He liked it.

(Too much.)

"Pine Tree." He heard that devilish voice call, still muffled but distinctly there. It made him shiver.

The hand was cupping his face now.

(Oh.)

His eyes were wide. He could feel tears gathering in them. He wasn't sure what was causing it.

(Yes he did.)

(Of course he did.)

(How could he not?)

"You're going to be fine."

Hushed words. Kinder than he had thought the man in front of him was capable of. Seemed that he would always be surprised by this man.

(Until he was sent away, that was.)

(Then he'd never see him again.)

(Oh.)

He felt breath brush against his face. Like a lover it caressed him, gentle against his sensitive skin. It was close. So close. He didn't know how to feel about it.

(Scared.)

(But God did he want it.)

Lips. He felt… lips. But not… not against his own. No.

Against his cheek.

Soft, tender.

He hadn't known the man could be tender.

(He didn't know anything about Bill, did he?)

He stopped breathing. He held his breath as he stared at the man. The captain. His captain. Who was staring back, face impassive as he cocked his head to the side, golden eye staring, searching.

Searching what?

(His soul?)

(Did he even have a soul?)

(What's in a soul, anyway?)

Slowly, he let the breath out. It was shaky, but he kept his eyes glued to the man in front of him. Didn't look away. Didn't dare.

His heart stopped pounding. His body stopped shaking.

(But the fear remained.)

(The fear would always remain)

His breath was still shaky. But still he breathed. In. Out. In… Out. Like his great uncle had taught him, those first few months After. When his heart filled with fear and panic, smoke prevalent in his nostrils. When the slightest sound was a raging fire, a glint of light was a blade come to kill him. When his sister was walking death, eyes dark and broken from the things she had seen. He'd been afraid, then, too.

(He was always afraid.)

(Always.)

The trick was working. His breathing was returning to normal, his heart finally reaching a more normal rate. All the while, he kept staring at the man across from him.

(His eye was bright gold.)

(He hadn't known that people could have golden eyes.)

(It was beautiful.)

"Are you better now?" That voice asked, the high pitch familiar and welcome. With a deep breath- his lungs protesting, aching- he shrugged, unsure.

(Was he ever better?)

(Was he ever okay?)

(No.)

"Our new destination is nothing to be wary of, Pine Tree. I think you might enjoy it. After a fashion." The man continued, eye boring into him.

Dipper couldn't even find it in him to feel relief at the news of a new destination.

(Would he still get sent away?)

(Maybe.)

(Maybe this was all a cruel joke.)

(Maybe he didn't even want to stay on this ship anymore.)

(Maybe he didn't know what he wanted.)

He nodded dumbly, not saying a word as he watched Bill. He didn't know if he could speak, or if only noise would come out if he tried. As he fell into that too bright, too golden eye, he started to relax. The fear in his heart faded until he couldn't feel it anymore. He felt relieved.

(The fear was still there of course.)

(It would never truly leave.)

(Just stuffed into a little box.)

(Waiting for the next time.)

(Even he knew that.)

With a bit of effort, Dipper smiled weakly, watching as a glimmer of relief entered his captain's eye. The man smiled back, his grin wide and sharp, yet not manic. Dipper stayed put as a callused hand reached out and gently caressed his cheek, causing the boy to shudder lightly.

"Everything will work out perfectly, Pine Tree. Don't you worry your pretty little head." His captain said, a touch condescending as he continued to grin. Dipper chose to ignore the minor insult, instead reveling in the warm fingers trailing over his cool flesh. It felt nice.

(So, so nice.)

(He shouldn't enjoy the touch of a murderer.)

(He did though.)

(Something was wrong with him.)

"O-okay, Bill. I… I trust you." The boy rasped, voice shaking and throat protesting. But the words were meant.

He trusted Bill.

(Idiot.)

His captain's smile grew even brighter, losing the sharpness. It was blinding in its intensity, so utterly beautiful and brilliant. Oh, he loved that smile.

"Good." The man murmured, eye soft, sparkling like molten gold. He could get lost in that eye. Lost forever and ever, never to be found.

(Did he want to, though?)

(He didn't know.)

"I should get to bed now. I have a long day of sailing tomorrow." That voice mused a minute later, eye still fixed on his, hand still caressing his cheek. Dipper didn't want him to leave, wanted the man to stay, but knew he should likely go. After all, he was the captain of a ship. He needed his rest to properly get them where they needed to go.

With reluctance, Dipper nodded, taking a shallow and shaky breath in. He was feeling better, after recovering from the fear that had invaded him. He felt silly though, now that he was calm again, that he had freaked out in the first place. He was lucky Bill had been so understanding.

Why, he didn't even know why he had freaked out in the first place.

(Yes he did.)

(It was just easier to pretend he didn't.)

(It always was.)

"Okay. I'll see you in the morning, then." Dipper replied, voice soft and slightly hoarse, a soft smile on his lips. Bill smiled back and leaned in to kiss him softly. Dipper keened lightly at the contact, leaning in like a moth to the flame. Like he could never, ever get enough.

(Like Bill was the spider enticing its prey.)

"See you, Pine Tree." Bill smirked, standing and heading over to his bed. He dimmed the lantern, but did not turn it off. Dipper was grateful. He wanted to read some more, which would have been impossible in the dark. Bill was so considerate, Dipper thought with a small smile.

Once the man had settled in completely, soft breathing filling the room, Dipper turned to the book that laid forgotten in his hands, opening it to the page he had left off on. As he read, he pushed any bad emotions he may have had out of him, including the last remaining bit of panic.

Things were fine. He had no reason to panic. His back was mostly healed, only scabs and scars left to show his captain's anger. As long as he behaved, Bill would never have cause to hurt him again. And he wasn't going to be sold, of course not! Bill… Bill cared about him more than that.

So it was with a settled mind that Dipper returned to his book, humming softly to himself.

And when he woke the next morning to the sound of his captain getting ready for the day, he found himself thinking that he wouldn't mind things staying like this for forever. It was nice, here. He was safe, and warm, and- dare he say it- loved.

What could possibly be wrong with this?

(He looked down at his wrists.)

(Oh, right.)

(That.)

P.S. Dipper freaked out because he's starting to fully realize that he has absolutely no control. Bill could do anything to him and he's powerless to stop it. Being reminded of their destination just put that in harsh reality. He had done his best to be what Bill wanted, and yet still he would be sold (or so he thinks; remember, Dipper isn't the most rational right now). Being told of their change in destination didn't make him calm down, since that wasn't what was driving his panic; it was the loss of control and the helplessness that was. What calmed him down was him pushing his emotions away, which was just a temporary solution, really. I hope this makes sense...