A note to those who might not be aware: this story is first and foremost a BillFord fic. The reason I wrote this was because I wanted to write for the pairing so for those who are thinking this is BillDip or gen or something, it's not.

That is all.

They took Bill to the bathroom on the second floor to clean himself. Due to lack of trust, Ford refused to let him bathe alone and insisted on supervising him along with Dipper. Dipper wasn't very keen on watching the demon sit in a tub of water, but he wasn't about to object to his great uncle's orders. In the end, what Ford demanded made sense. Sure Bill claimed he had been attacked by a Warlock but as far as they were concerned, it could have been a lie. Perhaps the demon was plotting something more sinister? That being said, on the chance he had spoken the truth, ulterior motives could easily still have been in play. Maybe he sought a way or get revenge on the Pines family, or worse, a way to get his powers back.

So Bill stripped himself of the blanket Mabel had given him as Ford ran the bath water, making sure it wasn't scorching hot. Dipper sat on the counter and tried to keep his eyes from wandering but his curiosity got the better of him. The carvings were interesting in a very morbid way. They were clean, precise, and flawless. The skin was cut smoothly without the slightest tremble or signs of hesitation. The Warlock had known what he was doing likely because he had done so multiple times before.

"I know you're in the midst of puberty and whatever," Bill said without looking back at Dipper, "But you really need to show some decency, kid. I get it, I'm gorgeous, now keep it in your pants."

Dipper blushed and frowned. He wasn't about to let himself be embarrassed by Bill; not now and not like that. "I-I was looking at the cuts." He stuttered, "They're very informative."

"I'm sure they are." Bill said sarcastically.

"Bill, shut up." Ford chastised and closed the faucet. "Water's good, now get in."

"Oh, I get all tingly when you boss me around like that, Sixer." Bill purred as he complied with Ford's orders.

The latter just sighed and rolled his eyes as he watched Bill sit in their bath. The water quickly took a brownish colour and Dipper wondered if a shower wouldn't have been the better option. But then the blond winced in pain. At first Dipper thought it might have been because the water was too hot but the likely answer was that his wounds simply stung from the contact. If just that caused him to grimace in pain, how was he supposed to clean himself with the bath rag provided?

"This hurts way more than before." He commented as he reached for the cloth but Ford snatched it up first.

"That's because your adrenaline is fading." He said, "You're going to be in crippling pain soon enough."

"Better clean myself now while I can still move, then." Bill said and extended his hand expectantly for the rag.

Rather than give it to him, Ford knelt by the tub and dipped it in the discoloured water. Then, he carefully started cleaning Bill's arm, mindful of the scarred symbols tattering his skin. The blond was as surprised as Dipper was but neither said anything. They just watched as Ford cleaned the blood and mud from Bill's skin with a gentleness Dipper had never really seen before.

"I'll take care of it." He mumbled quietly.

Dipper almost felt like he was intruding on a very intimate moment. The way Ford acted, as strange as it was, seemed very platonic and normal but the way Bill looked at him suggested something else. His otherwise apprehensive golden eyes were soft and trained on the other's face, unmoving as Ford continued his ministrations. His cheeks had taken a shade of pink and his darkened lips were pinched together, like he wanted to say something but was holding back. Every now and then the blond would wince in pain but never, at any point, did he so much as look away for more than a second. The whole display had Dipper wondering a question he had never bothered to ask his great uncle before: what had exactly been his relationship with Bill? The latter had, of course, tricked him into thinking he was nothing more than a muse, but had nothing more happened between the two? Had they really just been friends and nothing more?

A sudden knock at the door had all three of them jolting in surprise. Bill glanced away, chewing at his lower lip while Ford's shoulders squared and he frowned. "Hey!" Mabel called from the other side, "I've found some clothes I think might fit Bill."

Dipper opened it, took the clothes she had brought and looked them over. There was a large, yellow sweater with a happy face she had knitted ages ago as well as a pair of black sweat pants. "Really? That's it?" he asked.

"Well, yeah." Mabel said, "We can always go buy him some real clothes tomorrow or something."

"I guess that's what we'll be stuck doing." Dipper said.

"So how's it going in there?" She asked, "Grunkle Ford hasn't drowned Bill yet, has he?"

"Nope." Dipper grinned, and he wanted to tell Mabel about how awkward it was mostly because he felt like there were some unresolved past tensions in play. However, the other two were too close for them not to be overheard in whispers and he opted to say nothing.

"Tell me later." Mabel said, having understood the predicament crossing her twin's mind.

"Will do." He said and closed the door.

Some thirty minutes later, Ford was plunging his arm into the horribly dirty water so as to drain it. Bill was cleaned and before he could slip on the clothes Mabel had found for him, his wounds needed to be treated and dressed. Ford grabbed the towel hanging on a rack to his left and dried Bill. Dipper noticed how the latter had a permanent scowl of pain etched on his face. His lips were pinched together, his teeth stabbing into his lower lip also to the point of tearing through the skin. The adrenaline had likely worn off like Ford had said it would, which meant that moving the blond around would suddenly become much more difficult.

The sixteen year old jumped off the counter when he saw his great uncle finish with the towel and toss it aside. He fetched the first aid kit and handed it to the man. He popped the white box open and took out the disinfecting alcohol and a cotton ball. Dipper frowned and gripped the side of the counter – he never enjoyed watching people suffer, be it in movies or in real life.

"This is going to sting a little." Ford warned and soaked the cotton in alcohol.

"Be real with me, Sixer," Bill said, his voice shaky from the agony that was already coursing through his body, "This is going to hurt a lot."

Ford said nothing more and began dabbing the cuts. The demon hissed and whimpered, biting his tongue so as to keep from uttering any more sounds displaying his suffering. His hands were balled tightly in fists and they shook violently until Ford finished a few painfully long minutes later. When he did, a sigh of relief escaped both Bill and Dipper's mouths. Then the older man dressed the wounds carefully with the sanitized bandages in the kit. He moved and held Bill's limbs as though they were the most fragile thing in the world, like if he so much as twitched involuntarily, he would break him.

"Can you stand?" Ford asked when he finished and put what little of what was left of the bandages away.

Bill just shook his head. His eyes were now screwed shut and his breathing was much harsher. Dipper couldn't even begin to imagine the degree of pain he must have been feeling.

Ford sighed heavily and glanced around the room before settling his gaze back on Bill. "I'm going to move you." He said and reached for him, "We're going to help you slip on your pants and bring you to a room where you can sleep."

Bill gave a nod and braced himself. He whimpered and yelped as he was moved, which sparked pain. It was really pathetic to see. Bill, a creature that had once been feared and beheld as something akin to a God, grovelled in pain and was so weak to his crippling agony that he couldn't function on his own. He had once seemed invincible to Dipper – so much so he had still had nightmares about the demon even after they had defeated him four years ago. Now the only word to describe him was pitiful. He had been bested twice and this was the price he paid. Considering the things Bill had done in the past, he undisputedly deserved everything that happened to him. However, it was still something Dipper would never have wished upon him, regardless of how cruel and evil he was. He just wasn't that sort of guy.

Dipper helped Bill into the black sweat pants and gathered the yellow sweater while Ford scooped the demon into his arms. He followed him to the room where the Bill would spend the night and was surprised to see Ford had given him his bed. He laid him on the mattress carefully and the look on his face was indescribable – a mix of indifference and something bordering on sympathy.

"You'll sleep here." He told Bill softly, "If you need anything, don't move. Just yell."

"You got anything for the pain?" Bill asked, forcing out a pained laugh.

"No." Ford said regretfully.

"Yes, actually." Stan said, announcing his presence to the room. He brandished a glass of water and two pills, "Old people medicine. Doctor gave me a prescription and one time they gave me more capsules than I needed until the refill."

"Why do you need that?" Ford frowned.

"Unlike you," Stan said and gave the pills and glass to Bill, "I actually aged the past thirty years." Ford lowered his gaze to the ground. Stan then turned his gaze to the blond, "Give it a couple of minutes and you'll feel like you're floating on a cloud."

They took the empty glass back and left the room. They walked to the living room where Mabel had continued watching her show. They all took a seat around and quietly stared at the TV for a moment. When the commercial break began, Mabel muted the sound.

"So I'm sensing we need to talk about our feelings." She said.

"I don't like keeping him under our roof." Stan admitted frankly.

"We don't have a choice." Dipper said, "If we kick him out, the Warlock will catch him in no time and will kill him to become more powerful."

"But didn't we establish that that might not have been what the guy was up to?" Stan argued, "Wasn't there also a chance that he was just worshipping his God or something?"

"Dipper," Ford said, glancing at his great nephew, "You got a good look at his scars earlier, didn't you?"

He blushed a bit but nodded. "Well…yeah." He said.

"I bet you did." Mabel laughed.

"I-it wasn't like that—!" He defended.

"I know I haven't gotten around to teaching you much about Warlocks, Witches, and witchery," Ford continued, "But what did you notice about all the marks covering Bill's body?"

"Uh…" Dipper started and thought, "They were clean. Smooth. No signs of hesitation. So the guy had practice and knew exactly what he was doing."

"What does that tell us?" Ford pushed.

"That…" Dipper mused, "That we're probably looking at someone experienced – an older man. That being said, prodigies do exist, but the odds favour the former."

"Excellent." Ford approved, "But what I was looking for, and this would have answered Stanley's question," he looked at his brother as he explained: "None of the marks on his body seemed to remotely resemble or hint to a deity. Bill also said he didn't notice any idols as he ran away. He also said he hadn't been paying attention but, regardless of where his focus lied, he would have noticed tall totems lying about. This all indicates that the Warlock we'll be dealing with as our first priority was looking for power."

"Fantastic." Stan grumbled.

"So what's our plan of action?" Dipper asked.

"Bill needs to rest and heal." Ford said, "I'm guessing he'll start feeling better after a week or two – sooner, if we're lucky. During that time, I think it's best for us to stay low. There are ways to fortify this house from supernatural beings so that's one thing we'll work on while our new tenant recuperates. The other thing we'll be doing is learning about Warlocks. This family needs to know what to do and how to deal with them in the eventuality of an unforeseen confrontation."

"One normal summer." Stan muttered, "That's all I wanted."

"And what about Bill's body?" Mabel asked. "I mean, are we just going to let him keep it when it belonged to someone else?"

Ford stiffened and his gaze darkened. "I'll take care of it." He muttered, "I'll find out who it used to belong to."