Hey all! So, the last chapter is finally here!
Before anything else, I'd like to thank everyone who has stuck with me for this whole thing. This is, by far, the longest thing I've ever written. Over 110,000 words. Just... wow. So thanks, for reading this story. It means a lot to me that you have enjoyed it.
Now, onto my customary hour long author note... So, this chapter. I'm positive at least half of you saw this coming. I will talk more about this later, at the end of the chapter, but I hope that this ending doesn't frustrate anyone.
That's about it for now. As said above, I'll talk more later, but for now all I can say is that I hope you guys enjoy this. This is always one of the ways I had envisioned this story ending. I had a couple other endings in mind, but this is the one that made most sense to me.
Remember to comment or review! They let me know how you feel about this story.
Enjoy!
"No."
The word rang out, loud and clear, from the boy standing on the deck. It echoed around, the sounds of battle muffling as the syllable rounded. Following it was the distinct sound of a sword clattering on wood, the clanging creating an echo around the deck.
Dipper looked down at the man on the ground, the man who had done so much to him. The man who had ruined his life without ever actually being present. He could feel the rage in his heart, the hurt, the pain. He could feel the anger and the desire to inflict damage. And yet, as he stared at the man on the ground, the man who was now leering and looking so self-satisfied, he knew he would never be able to take his life. After all, killing him wouldn't bring his parents back. It wouldn't bring his sister back from the darkness she had descended into. All it would do would make him a murderer. And… and Dipper didn't want that. He would never, ever want that.
Besides, he refused to stoop to this monster's level.
"No?" He distantly heard Bill repeat from behind him, incredulous and almost angry. Dipper nodded, slowly and carefully, not taking his eyes off of the pirate at his feet. He didn't think he could speak, his throat tight and hurting.
"Pine Tree, this is the pirate who orchestrated the attack on your family's town. This pirate is the reason your parents are dead! Are you really going to pass this opportunity up?!" Bill demanded, hints of desperation sinking into his voice. Hallow began laughing, then, his laugh hoarse and creaking.
"Ahh, so that be th' reason ye fought me, eh, Cipher? Fer yer li'l whore?"
Hallow silenced a second later when Bill pulled his gun out, training it right between the pirate's eyes.
"Be silent! Dipper, answer me!" Bill growled, his eye trained on the boy. Dipper, however, refused to take his eyes away from the pirate that was now scowling at the pistol hovering feet from his face.
"I'm not a murderer." Dipper whispered, soft, but loud enough for Bill to hear. A moment passed, thick as tar, as Bill processed the softly spoken words. Dipper then heard a quiet inhale, sharp and pained, followed by a desperate gasp. Before the boy could tear his eyes from Captain Hallow to see what was wrong with his captain, he heard the sound of a gun cocking, and then saw as the face he was staring at become little more than bloody pulp on a salt stained wooden floor.
Eyes wide, Dipper felt his knees grow weak, felt them crumble under his weight. He never had the chance to hit the floor, however, because two warm arms grabbed him, gentle yet distant. He distantly felt himself get pulled back, away from the bloody mess that Bill had created. Away from the scene that would forever be ingrained in the boy's memory.
When the two reached the end of the ship, he felt himself get lifted up into strong arms, like he was a child. He allowed it, as he wasn't quite sure he'd be able to walk at the moment anyway, his legs weak and wobbling. He felt like he had been stabbed, like his heart had been ripped into by a cruel monster. He tried to breathe yet could not get more than a desperate gasp in before his throat would close up. It was similar to a panic attack, yet different enough for Dipper to know that it was not panic that he was feeling. No, all he felt was shock. And dismayed disgust.
Once they were back on The Nightmare, Bill swept back to their room, ignoring the sound of the bell that echoed around them which signified to the crew that they should return to the ship. All Dipper could hear was the sound of a gun, forever echoing in his mind. He barely even registered the jostling of being carried, nor did he feel the way the arms that carried him shook slightly, or hear the sounds of heavy breathing from above him.
He did, however, feel as he was placed gently down, getting settled carefully on a soft object, jolting him out of the stupor he had found himself in. He looked up at Bill and saw an impassive face. Eye dimmed, face sallow and grim, Bill stared blankly back, revealing nothing. It was like staring at a statue. It truly was too bad that Dipper would never get to see the look of utter heart break and despair that had laced the face of this very same man for a single split second before the sound of a gun had echoed. As it was, the sight the boy currently saw made him feel sick, made him want to run and never return.
"Why?" Dipper breathed, unable to make a sound louder than a passing summer breeze. Bill shrugged, his face betraying nothing.
"You might not be a murderer, Pine Tree, but I am." Bill monotoned, staring directly into Dipper's eyes before looking away. "I am." He repeated, softer, almost a confession.
Silence reigned, then, overtaking the two with a vengeance. Dipper couldn't tear his eyes away from the captain, even though the man could not bring himself to look up from the floor. Even though the sight of him made something in Dipper wither and die. Like a moth to the flame, Dipper thought dispassionately. Just couldn't turn away.
Bill began to pace then, slow, steady movements back and forth across the small space. Dipper watched him as he went, trying to suppress the emotion that rose inside of him. The sickness and disgust.
It was minutes disguised as centuries later that Bill finally turned to him, face blank and dull.
"You're not a killer." Bill stated, matter-of-fact, his voice as blank as his face. Seeing as it was not a question but a statement, Dipper did not reply, simply continuing to stare at the man before him.
"You never will be." Bill continued when no reply was made. Again, Dipper stayed silent. After all, they both knew the answer to the statement.
With a soft exhale of breath, Bill turned and strode over to the window, gazing out at the black nothingness that waited there. No more words were said; to tell the truth, no more words were needed. Everything that needed to be said was told in the silence that surrounded them.
"One hour. The ship will pass into international waters, where we will anchor for the night. The majority of the crew will be below deck, tending to wounds and resting. The ones awake will not notice, as thick as they are. You will take a bag that I will give you, you will sneak out to where we store the rowboats, and you will row back to land. Do you understand?"
The words came out of nowhere, breaking the familiar silence like one would break a window. Dipper, at first, didn't comprehend what was being said to him. Then, once comprehension slipped in, he didn't believe what he had heard, certain he must have heard wrong. Then, upon seeing the serious expression that Bill was sporting, once the words sunk into his brain and laid eggs, he felt his heart sink to the floor. Without knowing he had done it, Dipper found himself on his feet, body poised for movement.
"What?" He breathed, heart stopping and starting randomly in his chest. When Bill did not reply, Dipper repeated himself, louder. When still no reply came, just a blank stare, Dipper screamed his question, his throat tearing as the single syllable tore from his lips. He didn't want to believe what he had heard, yet he was starting to believe that it was gospel.
"You heard me," was all his companion said, moments later, after silence had returned.
Dipper said nothing, just stared. After all this time, after everything that had happened, Bill was sending him away? Bill was… Bill was telling him to leave? After everything that had happened?! Dipper tried to breathe, but by now he was certain his lungs had simply disappeared. It was the only explanation at this point for why they had stopped working.
He didn't want to leave. Even as the sound of gunfire echoed in his head, even as the sight of a pool of blood that once was a face flashed behind his eyes, he didn't want to leave. Bill was… he was everything. Bill was everything. Dipper was nothing without him. Dipper wouldn't be able to live without Bill. Dipper needed Bill, needed him like he needed air. How… how could he just walk away from that? How could Bill ask that of him, after all this time, after everything that had happened?
"How dare you?" Dipper rasped, eyes filling with hurt. "How dare you ask that of me? How dare you send me away now, after ruining me? How dare you?"
Dipper watched as the porcelain mask he was staring at shattered, as naked pain filled the single golden eye that was boring into his soul. Dipper took a breath, only to remember that his lungs were missing.
"What am I supposed to do, Pine Tree? What do you want from me? What do you want from me?!" Bill shouted, grasping a glass and throwing it at the adjacent wall. Dipper tried not to flinch as the glass shattered, raining bits of brokenness onto the floor below.
"I don't want you to send me away, like I'm nothing! Like I mean nothing!" Dipper shot back, trying so hard to not let the tremors that wracked his body be visible.
Bill straightened, looking at the boy with an unreadable gaze.
"I would not be doing this if you meant nothing, Dipper. Don't you dare think this means nothing to me." He whispered, shaking his head slowly. "I had a deal, you know. With the crew. They were angry that I allowed you so much freedom, especially that I was training you to fight, so I told them that I was doing it to train you to become one of us. To become a pirate. I lied a bit and told them that you had expressed an interest in the craft, implied that you would make an excellent swabbie. They ate it up, of course, loving the thought of a new crew member, especially one who was once upper class. But you see, this was your test, Dipper, and you failed. Come morning the crew will be asking for your death, or worse. This is all I can do to keep you alive. Do you understand that? Can you understand that? Because I barely do, yet this is the only option I have. This is all I can do."
Dipper tried to speak, yet his throat was tight. So tight that he thought he might just suffocate and die. He certainly felt like dying, at this moment. He sunk down on the bed that he had previously arisen from, trying to push the lump away. Finally, minutes later, he managed to clear his throat enough to choke out a simple sentence.
"I-I could never be a pirate." He gasped, not the words he had wanted to say, but ones that seemed to be needed. Because it was true. He would never have been able to become everything he had ever hated. Not even to stay with Bill, as much as he loved him. He could never have betrayed himself that much, no matter the hatred that lived inside of him. He watched as Bill let out a self-deprecating laugh, a small, sad smile finding its way on his face. Sliding down the wall he was leaning against, Bill sat on the frigid wooden floor, one leg cocked upwards, looking up at the roof while his arms splayed carelessly.
"You think I didn't know? Of course I did, Pine Tree. I always knew. But I suppose part of me had… well, I suppose a part of me had hoped. That you were as similar to me as you had appeared. Guess not."
The words were spoken without emotion, yet Dipper could see the sorrow on the face he was staring at. Swallowing, Dipper tried to think of something to say, yet nothing came to mind. He had no idea how to make this better.
"So you have to go, Dipper. Do you understand that? You can't be here without becoming one of us. You can't stay a prisoner forever. Either you become a pirate or you leave. I've known that for a while. And, now, we both know what your choice will be, so just do as I say and don't make a fuss. It'll be easier. For both of us." Bill continued after a few moments had passed, that same sad smile showing on his face, making Dipper's heart break. But he knew the man's words were correct. And he hated it.
"Alright," he gasped, "alright. What… what do I need to do? Please… what do I need to do?"
The two spent the next twenty minutes going over a plan, Bill doing most of the talking. Dipper's throat was tight and aching as he watched his captain pace the room, collecting various objects and putting them into a bag, speaking words of how to find land and what to do after he reached the beach. Once done, the two simply stared at each other, unsure what to do then. There was still another thirty minutes, at least, until they reached international waters. Thirty minutes was all they had left with one another. Thirty minutes until they parted ways forever. What could they do? What words could be said that hadn't already been said? What actions could be taken to make this hurt less? Dipper had never loved before, therefore he had never lost a love before. The closest he had ever come was losing his parents, yet this was nothing like that. This was almost worse, since this was a conscious decision on both of their parts. They were willingly choosing this.
In the end, they spent the time lying beside one another, Bill wrapping his arms around Dipper as Dipper tried to remember everything. He wanted to kiss Bill, wanted to touch him everywhere, yet somehow he knew that it would hurt worse in the end if he did. It hit him, then, why Bill had been so distant these past several days. Bill had known what would happen. He had known, and couldn't bear to touch what he would one day lose. This knowledge made Dipper want to cry.
Finally, after what was far too short an amount of time, the ship shuddered to a halt, the anchor falling soon after. Dipper heard as the remaining crew stomped down to their cabins, joining the ones who were resting off an injury. It took about another twenty minutes for Bill to feel like it would be safe enough for Dipper to make his escape, twenty minutes that Dipper spent in silent misery.
When the time came, Bill stood, disentangling himself from Dipper with significant effort. The boy watched as the man strode over to the bag he had packed, lifting it and holding it out. Dipper, despite the desire to stay right where he was and never leave, stood as well and numbly grabbed the bag Bill held out for him.
"Be safe, Pine Tree. Hate for you to get eaten by a sea monster." Bill said as their gazes met, the joking words sounding anything but with how serious the man's expression was. Dipper felt tears come to his eyes for the first time that night, the reality of this all finally hitting him, causing the boy to look down and gasp. After everything, this was it. God, how was he going to go back home now, when he wasn't who he once was? When he wasn't Dipper Pines anymore? When he was leaving a part of himself behind on this ship, the most important part? How could he go back to his old life now that Bill had ruined him completely?
He felt warm fingers touch his cheek, feather light and utterly heartbreaking. The fingertips trailed down his face and under his chin, lifting his face upwards so he could look back into that citrine gaze, so full of emotion that Dipper felt the tears finally spill out, running in twin rivulets down his face. Bill's thumb gently wiped the tears away, causing the boy to gasp softly and close his eyes, more tears leaking out.
"You're so beautiful when you cry, Pine Tree. So beautiful." Bill murmured softly, his warm breath fanning across the boy's face. For once, it was fresh, smelling not of rot or liquor, but of cinnamon and wintergreen. Like the candies Dipper had once eaten as a boy. He felt more tears creep out.
When a pair of lips pressed against his, he pressed back, feeling like he was about to die. He trembled against his captain, his love, his heart, and tried so hard to not crumble to ash. To not shatter into a million pieces, never to be fixed. As it was, he would never be who he once had been. He knew he never would be. Not now. Not again. Not after having loved and lost Captain Bill Cipher.
All too soon the kiss ended and the two parted, a feeling of frigid cold enveloping the boy. The young man who finally knew what it meant to be split in two. So many books made sense now, he thought dimly as he stared through watery eyes at the one person he never wanted to leave.
"You should go, Pine Tree. Go, before the sun rises. If you go east you should hit land in about a day. From there you should be able to find your way back to your family. Then you'll be happy." Bill said softly, fingers trailing down the boy's face in farewell.
Dipper looked at Bill, the man's face showing the sadness he clearly felt, eye dim and glassy. Taking a deep breath that his nonexistent lungs failed to receive, Dipper nodded, grasping the bag tighter and turning to leave. He said no words, as no words would have been enough. Everything he could have said had already been said through actions.
At the door, he had the urge to look back, just once more, but he resisted. He had a feeling that if he did, he'd never be able to leave. So, his face grim and heart aching, Dipper crept out into the office, through memories that would never leave, then out the door and into salty air. The ship was as silent as death, matching Dipper's emotions perfectly.
He moved across the ship in a trance, keeping as hidden as his muddled mind would allow him to be. He somehow found the row boats and climbed in one with shaking hands, heart dead and broken. Part of him was hoping that he'd get caught, that he'd be forced to stay with Bill, yet it didn't happen and he lowered himself into the water below with no resistance. With a shuddered breath, Dipper picked up the oars and began to row away from the ship that would forever hold a part of him. He didn't let himself look back until he was far enough away that he wouldn't get the temptation to row back. Until the ship was little more than a black smudge in the predawn sky. He didn't see the figure standing on the deck, watching the boy row away. Nor did he see the figure turn and head down to the below decks, purple coat billowing in the morning breeze.
As Bill had said, it took Dipper about a day to make it to shore, a day spent in numb heartbreak and sorrow. He didn't dare allow himself to rest, even as his eyes dropped so low he was sure he'd fall unconscious if he kept them open a second longer. But he persisted, knowing that he had to get to land as soon as possible. He could sleep later, could properly think things through later. Right then, he had to survive and make it to land. Then he could rest. Then he could mourn.
Before he knew it he had spotted land, a small feeling of relief making itself known in his heart. An hour later he had reached his destination, his arms aching but his heart aching far more. He pulled his little row boat onto the beach, not sure how far he was from civilization, but not caring with how exhausted he was. Once he was far enough inland to not be caught by the tide, Dipper turned his boat over and crept underneath, falling asleep nearly the instant his head hit the sand.
Upon waking, an unknown amount of time later, Dipper hid his boat and set out in search of a town or village where he could orient himself. He didn't allow himself to think about what he had left behind. He didn't allow himself to hurt. Not until he was safe. Not until he was in a place where he could find out where he was. Not until he had an idea of how to get home. He couldn't allow himself to break down until he had done what was needed to be done.
The village he eventually found was a small one, but it seemed like a Godsend in his eyes. He was exhausted despite his short rest on the beach and he couldn't wait to at least sit somewhere comfortable.
The first villager he came across took one look at his ragged and tattered appearance, before turning tail and running. It soon became apparent as to why that was, as a couple of heart stopping minutes later a group of people came over to him, looking concerned and asking if he was alright. After telling them a brief, if highly edited, overview of what had happened- that his ship had been attacked by pirates and that he had been taken prisoner before managing to escape- the villagers took him to a house and gave him food and warm clothing to wear. When they asked about the bag, he told them that he had taken it before he had left, knowing that he would need some supplies before escaping. He hated himself for his lies, but he knew them to be necessary. No one would help him if he told the truth.
After a quick supper, he spent the night in their spare room, feeling weird sleeping on a stationary surface. On the beach he had been too tired to notice, but on this small cot it was all be could think of and it just made his heart ache, a bitter reminder of where he had come from and what he had lost. With a shuddering breath, Dipper finally released the tears he had been holding in, soft sobs filling the quiet space, unable to hold it back any longer.
In that moment he remembered everything, every touch, every kiss. He remembered the sights, the scents, the taste, the feel. He recalled everything he would miss, everything he'd never have again. He committed everything to memory, so that he'd never forget what had happened. So that he'd always remember.
Part of him was afraid, as he stared up at the ceiling of the small house he was inhabiting, that he would one day think of these memories with hatred. That he would one day think of Bill not with love, but with disgust and loathing. That he'd be poisoned away from the love he so clearly felt. It terrified him, the thought that everything that had felt so beautiful and wondrous might one day turn sour and be thought of with derision.
But then, he supposed, that was why he was remembering everything as it happened. So that there never came a day that he would forget the good that had happened on Bill's ship. He was no fool; he knew that no one would ever understand how he felt. But that did not mean that his feelings weren't real. Nor did it mean that he had deluded himself into loving Bill. If there was one thing he knew, with all certainty, it was that he loved that pirate captain. Even if it wasn't for the reasons he had once thought, even if it wasn't in a way that was healthy. Bill would forever be someone he loved. He would make sure of it.
Morning would come, as mornings always did, but Dipper was feeling determined not to let it pass him by. He would never be the same, he knew that, so he therefore would just have to make something new of himself. It would be hard, nigh impossible at times, but he would do it. If not for himself, then for Bill. So that he could be happy, like the man had said. So that he wouldn't waste away into nothing.
He may no longer be Dipper Pines. But who he was going to become would be just as good. He would make sure of it.
When his eyes finally closed, he dreamed of a beach, calm and peaceful.
With Bill at his side.
And for a moment, he could almost pretend he was happy.
So. Aha. Count of hands, who saw this coming? Yeah, I went with the obvious ending here. Why? Because A) it's the only ending I think makes sense, with how the characters are in the show and B) I made it obvious for a reason. Like, I purposely foreshadowed this ending for a while now. Did I lay it on a bit thick? Yeah, but this ending had been what I wanted for a while now. Originally I had the thought of having a happy ending, with Bill and Dipper ending up together. But after writing this story, particularly the 12th chapter, I realized that there was no way this story could end with them both together and happy. Sure, Dipper could become a pirate, but he'd be utterly miserable. He'd hate himself, even possibly grow to resent Bill... It would not have been good. And Bill could have given up his life of piracy, but... Do you really think that Bill would ever give it up? No. Not for a boy he's known for only a month. He'd grow to resent Dipper and it would not work out.
So yeah. That's my reasoning behind this ending. I hope that, despite the obvious ending, that you didn't hate it. (Also, I had originally had the thought of having two endings, this ending, and one where Dipper killed Hallow. That was part of the reason why I split the chapter where I did. If anyone is interested in that, let me know and I'll consider it. I'm not sure if I could do it, though... Dipper does not strike me as a person who would ever become a pirate. See, Bill always saw a part of himself in Dipper; I wanted there to be a parallel between the two. And yet, in the end, the difference between the two is that Dipper is not a killer. He doesn't have it in him to kill another human being. I think it would be too out of character to have Dipper kill Hallow, but if anyone is interested, I could do it. )
Last thing: I'm marking this story as complete, but rest assured, an epilogue is coming. The main story is done, though, which is why I'm marking it as complete. Tell me if there is anything in particular that you'd like to see in the epilogue. I'm already planning on including what happened to Mabel and Stan, as well as Soos and Wendy, but if there is anything that you'd like to see resolved, mention it and I'll do my best to incorporate it. I've gotten about half of the epilogue finished, but I have no idea when it'll be complete. So look out for that, sometime.
And... that's it! This story is complete, outside of the epilogue. Thanks for reading and I hope this ending was satisfying. ^-^
Oh, one last thing, actually. I've gotten a couple of comments saying how they wish they could write, or that I inspired them to write, but that they don't think they're good enough. To that I say: Write anyway. Do you think that I have any idea what I'm doing? God no! I just sit down, at 2AM on my iPod, and write what comes to my mind. I barely plan, I just have a general Idea of what will happen. I've never even taken any classes on writing, outside of English class. You don't need to be a master to be a writer. You just need to have an idea, and from that idea you just have to write. Even if it sucks. Even if you hate it. Write anyway, because at the end of the day, at you have gotten something down. I hate how I write- I tell and don't show, I repeat myself frequently- but I still write. Because everything I write makes me that much better. It teaches me through experience. So, if you want to write? Write. Get inspired by a song, by a TV show, by a book, and then write it down. Don't give up before you even start. Don't say "I'm not good enough" because you are. And even if you think you aren't, well, how can you get better if you do not try?
Anyway, sorry for preaching at you. But seriously, please, write. And if you do decide to write? Send it to me and I'll look over it. My Tumblr is SpikeisAwesome456, so feel free to send me the link or the piece itself in an ask/message/whatever.
Wow, that was long. Aha. Whoops. Sorry.
UPDATE: So, I've gotten a couple of complaints about how this ending is anticlimactic. To that I say; hmm, it's almost like life is anticlimactic, huh? Because this story was never about being an epic novel, or whatever. It was about writing a realistic look into the effect of Stockholm Syndrome. I'm not a writer, I'm a (soon-to-be) psychologist. That was always my goal with this story. So I'm sorry if my intention wasn't clear and this seemed a bit anticlimactic, but that's how life is. Things just... end. No rhyme, no reason. They just... end. Could I have written the ending better? Probably. But please know I was incredibly sick while writing this and just wanted to be done. And I'm not a writer. I have never pretended to be a writer. So please don't leave comments about how this story sucks. Or if you're going to do that, explain why, and do it on a medium where I can reply and explain myself. I don't mind constructive criticism, but nothing is constructive about insults.