Summary: Life hadn't always been hell, Dipper knew, but over the course of 26 years life had changed. A lovely marriage deteriorated, a warm home turned cold, and with nothing but a few possessions and his terrified child, Dipper flees to the only person he dares to trust.
Pairing: Billdip and Dipeon (both one-sided)
Tarnished Treasures
The front door banged open and a slurred voice yelled. "Dipper! Get me a beer!"
The twenty-six year old cringed and placed his book atop the coffee table. A thud echoed followed by a violent swear. Standing from the couch, the brunet hurried to his noisy husband.
"A moment, dear!" Dipper called and turned into the hallway.
The young man thinned his lips when he spotted the red-faced and haggard blond, laying on the wooden floor and fighting with the rug.
Bill was wasted beyond belief.
Again.
Inhaling and wishing his heart would stop pounding, Dipper approached his snarling husband and resisted the urge to flinch when the man lifted his glazed glare from the fabric to growl at the brunet.
"Where the hell's my drink?"
"Dear," Dipper softened his voice, trying to look as harmless as possible and knelt beside the man. "Please lower your voice. I just put Deirdre to bed."
Bill snapped a swear. "Brat. Give me a beer or else."
Dipper swallowed back creeping fear. "You've already had plenty."
Bill's ruddy cheeks deepened and his gaze darkened. He shifted to his knees and shoved his nose against Dipper's, his breath rancid. Dipper bit his lip as the horrid stench wafted over his face and averted his eyes, shrinking away. Bill just grabbed the brunet's arm to prevent further retreat.
In a startlingly sober tone, the man threatened. "If you do not obey me, I will slit your throat with a razor and then I will throw that snot-nosed brat into the streets. Now do as I say and get me my damn beer."
The brunet nodded mutely and Bill released his grip. Blinking back tears, Dipper scrambled to his feet and rushed to the kitchen. Cracking open the fridge door and praying they still had drinks left, the young man peered inside. Exhaling, he grasped a can of the alcoholic beverage and returned to his husband.
Bill grunted. "Good. Now help me to the couch."
Keeping his gaze low, Dipper nodded. "Yes, Bill."
Dropping to the floor, Dipper wrapped an arm around Bill's torso and struggled to his feet. The brunet faltered beneath the bigger man's weight but managed to drag the blond into the living room and onto the couch.
Bill sank into the cushions and commanded. "Gimme the drink."
Dipper hesitated. The more Bill drank, the more of a jerk he became. Did he really want to fuel the fire? Besides, Bill would probably fall asleep before long and forget all about the drink in the morning, right?
The blond grit his teeth. "Are you too stupid to hear me? I said give me my drink."
Ducking his head, Dipper murmured. "Dear, please, Deirdre's asleep."
"I don't give a shi–"
"Dear–" Dipper stressed, glancing in the direction of a certain bedroom. "You don't want to wake her up do you?"
Bill's volume increased as he sat upright. "Why should I give a fu–"
The brunet struggled to pacify the man."–please–"
"–about that little leech and you!."
Dipper's breath hitched. Pacification would usually work. But why wasn't it working it would usually work just like the… Dipper blinked. Pacification wasn't working this time or the last time or the time before that or even the time before that.
Still, he tried again. "Remember you love our daught–"
Bill stood, staggering, and Dipper quieted. "You're no better, you filthy piece of trash."
Dipper swallowed, trying not to cry. "You don't mean that."
Bill sneered. "Oh but I do and you're never going to leave because if you do…" the blond snatched Dipper's shirt collar and hissed. "I'll kill you."
The brunet struggled to breath, panic rising.
"Besides," Bill pushed the young man away and snatched the drink. "You need me more than I need you. I only keep you around because you're a good fu–"
"Please," Dipper stumbled. "Keep your voice down."
The blond growled. "Did you just tell me what to do?"
"N–no…"
"Liar!" Bill snarled, raising a hand and Dipper flinched.
"Daddy?" A quiet, frightened, tone pierced through noise of Dipper's heart hammering. "Dad-dad?
The brunet swiveled his gaze to the source of the sound and his eyes widened just as a force slammed into the side of his face. One voice gasped, another screamed, while the third laughed. Dipper dropped to the floor, placing a palm over his eye with blood roaring in his ears.
Shit. He needed to get to his make-up kit fast and hide the mark before the bruise could form and anyone could see the damage. He sucked in a breath as his husband continued another one of his drunken tantrums.
Life hadn't always been hell, Dipper remembered, it hadn't always been this way. Bill had been kind once, to both him and their adopted daughter. He didn't know when or why that changed, but Bill changed. Or was it him that had changed? Did he deserve the abuse? Did he deserve to be hurt? But why? What could he have done to deserve such cruelty?
But maybe things would get better.
If he just didn't leave and shielded their daughter from Bill's intoxicated moments, then they'd all be fine wouldn't they? With a little guidance, Bill would return to being the mischievous, eccentric, but curious man that he fell in love with and the threats would all turn out to be some poorly delivered joke meant to toughen him up! Right? He blinked back tears. Right…
A soft hand against his bicep startled him out of his reverie and he cringed before realizing that the gentle palm on his skin belonged to their daughter. He bit his lip. Looked like he'd been doing a great job protecting their daughter…
"Are you okay, Daddy?" Deirdre prompted, eyes the size of the moon and welling with tears.
Dipper's jaw lowered about to reassure her, when Bill's nonsensical words formed into coherency.
Bill screeched. "–outta my sight before I put a bullet through both your heads!"
Realization slapped Dipper in the face as he scrambled in a frantic rush to pick up his daughter and flee from the room.
Things wouldn't get better.
They'd only get worse.
Once they were both out of the room and his child openly sobbed, Dipper gritted his teeth and hardened a newfound resolution.
Enough was enough.
Dipper had a child to protect.
They had to get the hell out of the dangerous situation. Their lives would only continue to spiral out of control and if they didn't escape they'd be dead for sure. Dipper inhaled. It hurt. It hurt to leave but he'd take the chance and risk Bill hunting them down over the sure fire path of staying. Staying meant death, leaving only meant potential death. But…but maybe Bill only needed time to cool off…
Exhaling, Dipper''s mind whirled through plan after plan. No, they needed to escape. Tonight. He placed his child just outside her bedroom door and placed a finger to his lips.
"Shh," he whispered, "Daddy's going to check on Dad-dad. Don't worry, everything's okay. I'll be right back."
Tip-toeing to the living room, Dipper peered around the doorway and crept to peer around the couch.
"Dear…?" He murmured, wary.
No response.
Risking a peek, he leaned over the couch and breathed. Bill had passed out. Good.
Sighing, Dipper stomach churned as he pulled away and turned only to find his daughter had followed. Hurriedly, he planted his index finger to his mouth and ushered her out of the room. Finally, he had a plan.
There was only one person nearby who he could ask for help.
Hopefully the guy didn't still hate him.
Once out of the living room, he crouched beside his weeping child and hurriedly said. "Dad-dad is a little stressed right now so we're going to give him some time to rest. Everything's okay. Grab whatever is important to you that you can carry, cause we're going to be staying with a friend for the night."
He guided her to her room and split to rush to his and Bill's room. He grabbed his backpack, hastily stuffed his make-up case into the bag as a precaution, and rushed to the bathroom. Snagging the first aid-kit and filling it with extra essentials, he sped out and to the kitchen to pile the remaining space in the bag with food and bottled drinks.
Dipper returned to his daughter's–his, not their's anymore– room and pushed open the door to find her crying in the middle of a circle of stuffed animals.
She knew something was wrong.
The brunet bit his lip and glanced out the door. They didn't have much time. Who knew when Bill would wake up?
He crossed the ring of stuffed toys and gathered her into his arms, cooing soothing words of nonsense and grabbed her favorite stuffed animals and piled them into one arm.
"It's okay," he murmured. "It's okay."
"B–but–" she hiccuped and sobbed. "Dad-dad hurt you!"
Dipper winced because her voice was getting louder and might wake Bill up oh please don't wake Bill up.
"Shh," with his free hand, he rubbed circles on her back, desperately hoping she'd calm.
He'd never been too skilled with the whole parenting thing but he was trying.
The brunet hugged her. "It's okay but we gotta get going. Is there anything else you want to bring?"
Sniffling but calming, Deirdre filled her arms with as many stuffed animals as she could carry, tears dripping down her cheeks and while Dipper wanted to curl up and cry too, he stayed strong. Picking up on his odd silence, she stayed quiet as they tip-toed through the living room.
Bill shifted in his sleep and Dipper froze, heart racing, but the blond did not wake up. They wound through the room and into the hallway and soon arrive at the door. With a final backwards glance, Dipper's gaze landed upon the the small table beside the knob and bit his lip.
As a last second thought, he grasped a framed photo of better days.
They weren't coming back.
Exiting their former home, Dipper tucked the photo beneath the arm filled with stuffed animals and grasped his child's hand. He kept an eye on the streets. Even though the neighborhood was peaceful, one could never be too careful at night. They set off.
And so they walked. They walked until their feet ached and his daughter nearly fell asleep whenever they stopped at a crosswalk. Dipper gathered his child into his arms and piled the stuffed animals atop her sleeping frame, keeping her warm, and continued to walk.
Eventually he arrived at a quaint, medium sized house and swallowed harshly. Inwardly, he hoped that luck would be with them. He lumbered up the steps, balance unsteady. Tightening his grip on his daughter's sleeping form, he pressed the doorbell. After a moment too long he sighed and turned away. They'd have to find somewhere else.
The lights flicked on and the door opened.
A young man stood, framed by the light.
Dipper inhaled and averted his gaze. "H–hey…"
"Dipper Cipher," a southern twang greeted him, carefully neutral. "Been awhile."
Resisting the urge to retreat, Dipper ground his teeth. He just had to suck up his pride and ask for help. Just ask for help. For your daughter.
"I…" his voice wobbled and cracked as realization slammed into him once more and before he could stop himself a wave of tears overflowed. "I need your help."
A moment of quiet passed before the man stepped aside and Dipper's shoulders sagged. "Thank you Gideon," he murmured and crossed the threshold. "Where can she sleep?"
"The guest room."
The brunet nodded and made his way there, winding through familiar hallways that shot a pang of nostalgia through his heart but he just inhaled and kept on walking. He stopped at the door and strode inside, gently placing his daughter beneath the covers and tucking her in. He walked out and quietly shut the door to be faced with the blond.
"Get into a fight?" Gideon prodded, handing him a glass of water. "Didn't take you to be a rowdy type."
Dipper shook his head, accepting the glass. "Argument."
Gideon raised a brow. "That ended in a brawl? How'd you get that black-eye, Dipper?"
The brunet looked away and hurried to the living room while Gideon narrowed his eyes, following.
"Dipper, tell me how you got that black eye or I'm kicking you out."
The brunet curled his fists because he can't he just can't do this right now and choked out. "I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have done the things I did in the past and…"
He sighed and dropped to the couch.
Placing the drink on the table and burying his face in his palms, he mumbled. "Bill did it."
Stunned silence.
"Bill Cipher." Gideon repeated in clear disbelief. "Bill Cipher."
Dipper shook his head, refusing to look up. "He was drunk."
"He still shouldn't have done that." Gideon growled.
"You were about to kick me out." Dipper retorted, raising his head to glare as his irritation flared from exhaustion and a need to defend himself.
The blond snorted. "I lied."
"You–"
Gideon curved around the couch and placed his hands atop Dipper's shoulders, massaging them.
"I'm married." Dipper protested, somewhere inside hoping that Bill just needed time to cool off and that he and his daughter could return.
"And soon to be divorced. It's hard to be be married to someone who'll soon be dead." The blond continued to work the brunet's tense muscles.
"Don't." Dipper sighed, resisting the temptation to melt into the gentle touch, and instead leaned out of the man's grip. "He's still my husband."
Gideon frowned. "He hurt you."
"Accidents happen!" Dipper defended.
"He punched you in the face."
"He didn't mean it!"
Gideon inhaled. "Dipper. Do significant others hurt their partners?"
The brunet averted his gaze. "Um…"
The blond's voice dropped, eerily calm. "Did he yell at you?"
"Um…"
"Did he insult you?"
"Uh…"
"Did he manipulate you?"
"N–"
"Threats of death, maybe?"
"Gid–"
"Physically and emotionally put you through hell?"
"Sto–"
"Bill abuses you, Dipper!" Gideon exclaimed. "You're not safe around him and never will be! And if you're not concerned about your safety then think of your child's."
Dipper stopped short.
His gaze dropped to the floor and he whispered. "I know…I don't want to believe it, but…I know."
Gideon paused. "Stay with me."
Dipper swallowed. "Gideon, I can't handle this right now. I still love B–I just–" He heaved a sigh. "I'll be out by tomorrow."
Muttering, "now you choose to be faithful…" The blond shook his head. "Where will you stay then?"
"I…"
"You didn't bring any money with you, did you?"
"A credit card…"
Gideon lifted a brow and strode to the front of the couch. "You do realize that Bill can track where you are based on your transactions with that card."
Dipper sighed and brushed a hand through his hair. "I…haven't exactly thought this through."
"Then stay with me. You can sleep in my room."
"Gideon." Dipper shot the smirking blond a glare. "We may have been a thing once but we are not anymore!"
The blond sat beside the brunet. Dipper didn't have the energy to scoot away when Gideon leaned close and placed a palm on the brunet's thigh. When Dipper flinched, Gideon pulled away with a blink of surprise.
The blond's fists curled. "He's hurt you more than just this time, hasn't he?"
Dipper averted his gaze. "Gideon, please, just let it be."
"Divorce him and I will."
"Gideon, please."
Dipper's skin prickled as Gideon silently stared. When the blond spoke with a soft tone, Dipper jumped.
"Just what did Bill do to you?"
Dipper sighed. "A lot of things, Gideon…a lot of things."
~oOo~
Notes:
Gideon gets to be the (sorta) good guy this time around!
dreamflyer1100: Woo! *waves hands in the air* I'm excited that you were excited to read my crazy, dark story! No shame in rollin' like Waddles! Ha ha ha, thank youu~
ME: Muahahahaha! Now I just gotta figure out what happens next in Unexpected Affection!
New Reader: Heh heh heh, dark stories all the way! If you're insane for liking it then I'm insane for writing it! Yeeeee-up! Characters gunna die, muhaHAHAHA! And you'll just have to wait and see who perishes, ha ha ha.
smilelydip: Ha ha ha, I see what chu did there! And nahhh, the Frankenstein idea doesn't strike my fancy.
ME: I could do a monster collection, but I'm just not fond of Frankenstein. It doesn't inspire me for some reason, I dunno why.
Guest: Bill could go all demon claiming on Dipper...or he might not. Heh heh, guess you'll have to wait and see!