Chapter Seventeen

Bill sat against the head board of the bed, staring down at Dipper, who was lying on his stomach doodling in a sketchbook. It looked like he was trying to draw out some sort of character design, labeling things here and there. Bill scoffed at him. "Nerd," he remarked, tousling his boyfriend's tawny mop of hair.

Dipper hummed in response, closing his eyes for a moment. "Hey, uh.. Bill?" He opened his eyes again, glancing in the other direction. He gave thought to what Mabel had told him earlier that day. Or, more accurately put, demanded of him.

Bill's gaze searched Dipper's own averted one, finding the fact that his head was spinning so much rather strange. It was a bit hard to concentrate with all of the jumbled words and ramblings echoing from the brunette's mind into his own. But he'd go with it, he supposed. "Yeah?" he questioned, shaking away Dipper's thoughts to place his focus on the stammering dork beside him.

Dipper lifted his sketchbook and sat it down on the nightstand, sitting his pencil down on top of it. He did the same with his glasses, not looking up at Bill. "Well, I um.." he started, forcing himself to look upwards at the blonde. He chuckled dryly, realizing how childish his fear was. "I love you," he went on in a quiet voice, silent as he waited for Bill to respond.

But after a long while, nothing came. Silence crawled between them, heavy in the air. Bill looked to the other side, frowning. "Go to sleep, Pine Tree," he whispered back, biting the inside of his cheek. It of course pained him to do so, as giving Dipper the cold shoulder wasn't really his favorite thing to do. Especially because he was so taken with the brunette.

It wasn't that he was in denial. He was almost certain after giving it a great deal of thought that what he felt towards Dipper was love. But saying it aloud... Well, the demon had his own reasons for withholding such information. And none of those reasons were particularly cheerful. As upset as it made him to do so, Bill would not respond. Or at least, not in the way his boyfriend had wanted him to.

Dipper's mouth had hung open just slightly for a few seconds. He felt himself reaching his peak of humiliation, and yet hardly a word had been uttered between them. He took a bit to sort out his mortification and disappointment, knowing it would do him no good. Anger was the last thing he needed in this situation. A fight certainly wouldn't have been worth it. Bill was just being difficult.

As usual.

He huffed in slight agitation, turning on his side and facing away from Bill. The blonde wasn't stupid enough to say anything, much less pull him closer. It wasn't like he had a death wish. Dipper reached out a hand and turned off the lamp beside him, and the room went entirely dark, save for the dim glow given off by Bill's eyes. Any other night Dipper probably would have marveled at them, at which Bill would have responded snidely. He'd taken to calling the brunette's fascination with his ever fading eye color some sort of fetish, teasing him. But that night of course was an exception, which bothered the both of them.

It bothered Bill because it meant he really had screwed up, even if his intentions were good.

And it bothered Dipper because it meant he'd be skipping out on what may very well be his last time seeing them.

They could lose what remained of their color anytime. It seemed that no matter how little magic Bill used, it would still deplete eventually. The process was slower, sure, but it became a bit more agonizing in return. Bill succumbed to horrible headaches more and more often as his eyes ceased to glow. There were occasions he would even cough up blood, a symptom he'd hoped to be rid of after the first occurence. Needless to say, he wasn't that lucky. The process of it all could almost be compared to withdrawal, as if Bill's body were detoxicating itself of any magic. What it felt like, however, was more like watching a fire fizzle away. And all that was left was a spark. There was hope for it yet, though it would take a quick wit to restore.

But as intuitive as Bill was and as persistent as Dipper was, nothing seemed to work for them. Which was horrifying in itself, but Dipper would be damned if he turned around just to see how much of the flickering flame was left. He simply stared off into empty space blankly, lost in his thoughts. After a while, he felt the blonde shift, but he paid it no mind. Bill could do what he wanted; it was what he always did anyway.

Annoyed and determined not to let it eat away at him, Dipper pulled the blanket up to cover his head. He closed his eyes and forced his mind to become clear. It was difficult, but he'd much rather push the situation away than overthink it and allow Bill to eavesdrop. Thankfully, it didn't take long for him to become drowsy again, relaxing enough to drift into sleep.

Though it felt no time had even passed when he began to stir again. But he didn't feel tired, nor did he feel rested. It just felt... Was there even a word for this?

Empty?

Hollow?

It was then that Dipper realized he didn't actually feel anything. His eyes snapped wide open when cackling laughter erupted from a slumped over figure of himself as a child. "Sorry kid, but you're my puppet now!" the voice of Bill chirped as Dipper's body pushed itself off the ground and looked up. It slammed its foot down on the laptop Dipper very clearly recalled obsessing over for about a week. His possessed body giggled to itself, staggering around the room like it had never walked a day in its life.

Dipper was rendered speechless for about a minute, but shook away his disbelief. "Y-you're not- What?" he stammered, utterly baffled. The 'puppet' of himself stepped in front of the mirror after getting the hang of walking, hands on it's hips.

"Man, it has been so long since I've inhabited a body!" His body lifted each hand and smacked itself across each cheek, grinning manically. "Pain is hilarious! And two eyes; this thing's deluxe!"

Dipper looked down at his hands, which were noticeably smaller than he remembered. He reached one of them into his chest to find that he phased right through himself. "Shit," he hissed, more than a bit angry his voice came out sounding the way it had when he was twelve.

The puppet snorted in amusement, then outright burst with laughter once it realized it had been responsible for the prior noise. "Woah-oh there, Pine Tree! Watch that mouth of yours," it retorted, doing a little hip wiggle that looked almost silly enough for Dipper to comment on it. "What would your uncle say if he caught you talking like that?" The tone was demeaning, but Dipper was unfazed by it.

He lived with Bill. Had the she-demon really expected to bother him this way?

Dipper crossed his arms. Or, he tried to, but they just kind of went through each other. Grumbling, he let them fall back to his sides. "First of all, I'm a twenty-two year old man. I can say whatever the hell I want. And I've suffered through puberty once before. I will not deal with it again, so fix... this." He gestured towards his childish appearance, his expression less than threatening when it was on a twelve year old's face. "And second of all, Stan would have high fived me. Are you kidding right now?"

Dipper's body frowned, the slitted pupils dispersing as the yellow-ish tint in them bled away. "Alright alright. This obnoxious voice is killing my throat anyway," the she-demon admitted with a shrug, her usual eerie tone returning. She chuckled. "Well, I guess it's hurting your throat, but same difference huh?" She stretched out her arms until they popped, looking somewhat bored. "Anyway, I think I'm going to slip into something a bit more comfortable. You don't mind, right? Of course not." The body she was in began to convulse, and Dipper watched with growing disgust as it morphed into her usual obsidian form.

He opened his mouth to speak, but felt himself drop to the floor before that was possible. His back hit the ground hard, knocking the wind clean out of him, but at least when he looked down at himself he seemed back to normal. Pushing himself begrudgingly to his feet, he narrowed his eyes at the she-demon. "I won't fall for your tricks," he hissed at her, watching her warily. "You're all out of ideas if this is the best you can do."

The demon giggled, taking a step towards him. "Au contraire! I'm just getting started, actually," she cooed teasingly, moving closer to him. Dipper would have avoided her, but it seemed his dreams would continue in a pattern all their own. He was immobile, and it wasn't like he hadn't tried. The she-demon grinned wildly at him, raising her frozen hands to cup his face, which he found both uncomfortable and revolting. "I have so much planned, you know. For you, for your family..." Her smirk spread even further across her face, a feat Dipper hadn't believed to be possible until then. "For Cipher."

Lowering her hands onto his shoulders, she further invaded his personal space. "I've put up with so much. All this bullshit lovey dovey trash. You giving yourself away so easily when I've already told you that you're mine. And boy, am I really going to enjoy the reward I get for being so very patient with you," she purred softly against Dipper's ear, and he resisted the urge to shudder from the sheer cold emanating off of her.

He grit his teeth. "No. Bill's going to-"

The she-demon dug her claws into his shoulders, effectively shutting him up. "Bill's not here. Funny how that works out, huh? First he won't return your affections. Now he won't even help you when you need him. Well, isn't that unfortunate?" she questioned sarcastically. "I mean, you spent all that time making a decent person out of him and what do you get in return? Exactly. Nothing. But I mean, what did you expect? Bill Cipher will always be a manipulative, destructive monster, like myself. It's in our nature, sweetie. You can't just cure it."

Dipper didn't respond, glaring at her with contempt that burned so hot she could almost feel it. The she-demon laughed. "Aw, come on. Don't be that way. You can still go on loving someone that will never love you back, it's none of my business. Besides, you seem to have quite a talent for it!" Dipper was clearly furious over those words, and he had half a mind to lunge at her right then and there. Of course, it wouldn't have mattered regardless of whether or not he could move. But it was the thought that counted.

The she-demon laughed. "Relax, relax. I'm not here to rile you up. I'm here to give you one final choice. And it's to - simply put - hand over that brain of yours. I want control. And I'll get it. But I'd rather avoid the trouble of exerting myself to do so," she said smugly, eyes glowing slits. "Face it, Bill's a goner, and he never cared about you anyway. Your family though... They still have the potential to be saved. Just hand yourself over."

Dipper rolled his eyes, wishing more than anything he could move because her presence so close to him was almost suffocating. "Not going to happen," he growled, his shoulders stiffening once her claws buried themselves a little further into his skin. He'd never understand how she gave off such an icy aura, but it burned like nothing else when she injured him. Still, he held his ground. Though it wasn't like he had a choice even if he didn't want to. "I told you, your tricks aren't working. So just give it up already." When he stopped talking, she was entirely silent as well.

At least, for quite some time. She made a sound that Dipper supposed would have been a sigh had it not sounded so empty and airy. She let go of his shoulders, and he breathed out his relief at the loss of the immense pressure on his skin. "I'm afraid I can't do that. And I suppose if you're not going to help me willingly then I'll have to go to drastic measures. Of course, I would have liked to avoid that, but I'm sure you figured out already that my time's running out," she explained with an emphasis on her exasperation, turning away from Dipper.

"Next time you see me, you won't know it. And that's going to spell the end of your resistance."

She disappeared before Dipper could ask her what she meant, and the room they'd been in began to fall apart at the seams. The wood of the walls appeared to melt away and the ground cracked and fell away at his feet. He looked downwards, his heart beating out of his chest once a sickening snap touched his ears. He lifted a foot to move away, but before he even had an opportunity to do so, the boards collapsed beneath him.

Dipper gasped, shooting a hand upwards to grab at something he could hold on with. His eyes went wide and his lungs felt like they may give out any minute. After a few moments of catching his breath, he realized he was on his own bed and no longer dreaming. He pulled his hand back and stared at it, dazed. Bill groaned as if his sleep had been disturbed, and he twisted onto his other side to face Dipper. His eyes were barely open, but they still conveyed just how irritated he was. "Pine Tree, what are you even doing?" he grumbled drowsily.

Dipper furrowed his brow, an expression of distaste on his face. "You should know," he muttered back, sitting up and giving thought to what he'd been told by the she-demon. "Another nightmare." He stood up, running his fingers through his bangs.

Bill seemed deeply alarmed by this, and juat about fell out of bed trying to comprehend it. "What?!" he exclaimed, now fully awake and following after Dipper. "I didn't even..." He looked down for a few moments, eyes spiraling with questions. Almost literally, it seemed.

Dipper just crossed his arms. He remained silent, watching Bill attempt to absorb what had happened. But his mind certainly wasn't blank. He hadn't bothered with the effort this time. Bill glanced upwards, listening in on his thoughts. That was when a couple caught his attention and he snapped his gaze towards Dipper's, fury blazing on his face. "That's what you think?!" he might as well have screamed, an echo to his voice a normal person wouldn't have been capable of. His face was red from anger, with bright crimson hues to match.

To this, of course, Dipper wasn't fazed. "You tell me," he responded blankly, noticing the way Bill was trembling from his rage. His hands were balled into fists at his sides and he looked like someone Dipper might have actually been afraid of... If of course he weren't Bill.

The blonde grit his teeth, staring down his boyfriend for what could have been an eternity. Or maybe just a minute. He didn't really feel the effect of time when he was as livid as he was then. "Don't" He paused to settle his nerves, the tingling urge to literally set himself ablaze becoming a bit of a nuisance to him. "play that game with me, Pine Tree. I don't care about you? Is that really what she used to get under your skin? What is this, teenage fucking drama? I'm doing everything I possibly can right and you still think there's a reason to doubt me? Kid, I'm trying. And that's a hell of an achievement, considering the fact that in doing so, I'm fighting off the natural goddamn will I have to do the exact opposite." He adjusted his hands when it became apparent to him that he was beginning to cut into his palms with his fingernails.

He took a step forward, pressing his index finger against Dipper's shoulder accusingly. The brunette actually seemed somewhat caught off guard by Bill's behavior. "I've done everything to win you over. And why? What other reason would I possibly have besides the fact that I simply enjoy you? And you still haven't cut my name off the list of people you don't trust! Has it occurred to you that I didn't see your stupid fucking dream because I didn't know about it? Is it maybe setting in now that I can't do that anymore?" Bill stopped for a moment, watching Dipper's face go from angry to thoughtful to outright guilty before he went on. "Because it certainly has for me! Ever think about what happens when I just lose all these traits that make me me? I do! All the time! And once they're gone, I have nothing more to lose- except you. You. Do you even realize how offended I am that you picked her word over mine? How fucked up is that?!"

Dipper opened his mouth to say something in return, but it seemed he'd been rendered speechless. Boy, had he never expected Bill to be right in an argument. Like, ever. But the blonde was just full of surprises, wasn't he? And it made Dipper feel like even more of an asshole because Bill clearly had a lot he wasn't telling his boyfriend, but it was all kind of just stuff he should have known or picked up on anyway.

And Dipper probably should have been giving him more credit for the fact that he was clearly making an effort. "I-I'm sorry," he choked out, eyes a bit wide in realization. Bill was constantly paying attention to little things about Dipper, and the brunette had thought he himself had done well in doing the same. But that clearly wasn't the case when it actually hit him just how much his boyfriend had managed to keep from him.

Bill's shoulders relaxed after some time spent considering the sincerity of Dipper's apology. Deciding he would have fought more if he hadn't meant it, Bill let the whole issue go. Sort of. He was still angry, obviously. It went without saying he'd be a bit agitated over something like that. "Okay," he said quietly, his voice a bit tired from yelling so much. Being a human meant he actually felt his limits and was even forced to develop some form of inside voice. He closed his eyes and let them turn back to their normal color. Even a task that small had grown strenuous in regards to his powers. He felt a bit dizzy from it, and sitting down was probably a wise decision. But it wasn't a decision he made, because he had other plans that morning. "We're going to see Sixer."

Dipper frowned, somewhat confused. It wasn't like Bill to seek Ford out. The two of them were far from comfortable around each other and typically made it a habit to avoid the other. "Why?" he asked, interested.

Bill hummed, turning towards the closet and pulling something out of it to wear. He grabbed whatever seemed to catch his eye first and began to change into them. "Two reasons," he started, pulling a yellow sweater Mabel had given him over his head. "Number one: I need as much help as I can get to ensure I even make it through this. And two: I clearly need to do a bit more to prove that I'm not going to turn on you." His tone sounded a bit hurt near the end, but the edge it took on more than covered that up.

Dipper glanced to the side, brows curved upwards in worry. "You don't-"

But Bill wouldn't have it. "Get dressed, kid. I want to get this over with as quickly as possible," he commanded, turning to see Dipper sigh and do as he'd been told without another word. That was good, at least. Bill wasn't in the mood to take his time. He wanted to go see Ford immediately, before he went back on doing so. And the brunette seemed to understand this, throwing on an outfit and grabbing his things to leave.

It was a fairly quiet drive to the Mystery Shack, but neither seemed bothered by it. Bill stepped in through the front door with Dipper behind him, grateful Melody was out of sight. She still hadn't quite warmed up to him, so he'd rather not make a scene for her to further judge him with. Dipper watched him curiously as he strode towards the vending machine and input a code. It made a noise, pushing itself out of place. Bill snickered, "Still hasn't changed it." He slipped through the opening, and Dipper started to do the same when Bill placed a hand on his shoulder. "You stay up here."

Dipper looked as if he wanted to argue, but decided he'd done enough of that already. With a sigh, he stepped back and allowed Bill to go alone. Which was worrisome, but he couldn't really do anything about it. The blonde felt the ground beneath him shudder, and the sensation of movement could be felt for a few seconds before stopping. The door reopened in front of him, revealing Stanford's office. "How'd I know you'd be here?" he asked sarcastically, stepping out of the elevator and towards the old man at his desk.

Ford looked up at him, visibly ticked off. "What do you want, Cipher? I'm working," he responded gruffly, eyeing the blonde suspiciously.

Bill scoffed, placing a hand over the paper Ford was writing on. He wanted undivided attention, and he was determined to get it. "I want you to help me look into creating a temporary magic source. There's nothing strong enough in the woods, and interdimensional travel for something better is impossible without creating... difficulties," he explained with a sigh, catching Ford's interest.

"And why would I do that?" he questioned, glaring as Bill sat down on top of his desk and crossed his legs.

Bill just shrugged. "In case you haven't figured it out yet, Fordsy, there's something powerful after the town. And I can't really do anything about it the way I am," he admitted with an ounce of frustration. "Besides, I kinda like this place, and I don't really wanna see it destroyed." He laughed. "Mostly of course because I'd have to suffer through that too. Self preservation, you know."

To this Ford was extremely skeptical. He was smart enough to know that was the most bullshit reason the demon could have given him, but bringing up the obvious real motivation to do such a thing seemed pointless. Either way he didn't really trust Bill. But he definitely did believe sonething was trying to destroy the town. He'd been picking up strange readings for months. "There really isn't a lot I can do. I mean, unless witchcraft is a viable option. I've been conducting experiments on certain chemical compounds I found on my last trip, but they probably aren't much stronger than a stone you could just find in the forest," he responded, pulling his notes from beneath Bill's hand and pointing to the information he'd gathered thus far.

Bill grimaced. That wasn't what he'd wanted to hear. "Sixer, this is important. I know I'm asking a lot, and you have zero reason to trust a word I say, but I'm being as real as I can right now." His tone indicated utmost significance. It had taken a lot to swallow his pride and approach Ford, which had been noted by the man. "I need three things from you. I need you to keep me posted on anything and everything you think could help me stop this thing. At the very least, tell me you can do that," he practically begged, desperation creeping into his voice.

Ford seemed surprised by this, but still gave thought to his answer anyway. He knew that this part of the request was true and Bill had no reason to lie about it. So after a long consideration, he finally gave the blonde a nod. "If nothing else, I suppose I can," he said, though a large part of him didn't like the idea.

Bill knew this, and was grateful Ford had given him the benefit of the doubt. Because his next request may or may not have been the more difficult one. "Second, if anyone - anyone - asks you to put the portal back together or how to reverse the barrier around town... I don't care if it's me, Fez..." He looked down for a moment, then back up again. "Even Pine tree. If they ask that of you, I need you to put a bullet between their eyes, got it? And don't hesitate, because if you do then you'll think too much and they'll get to you that way," Bill cautioned, voice pained a bit. "Because that's not me, and that's not Pine Tree, and that's certainly not your brother. Whoever you think you see won't be, and it'd be better if you just got rid of them."

Ford narrowed his eyes. That didn't make much sense to him. "Couldn't I just knock them unconscious to get rid of the monster?" he questioned warily.

Bill chuckled humorlessly, hands on his knees. "Hate to break it to ya Fordsy, but that doesn't do much good. A dream demon would just get pushed back into their own realm of existence that way. But they, like any other type of demon, can be killed when in a physical form. I don't want things to go that way, but any opportunity is a good one if you ask me." He didn't sound empathetic by any means, but his expression seemed to tell a different story. "Besides, if things really come to that, there's a good chance any other option has been exhausted already."

Ford frowned, thinking that over. As much as he hated to admit it, Bill was right. Forcing the demon out of its host wouldn't be effective in killing it, and erasing it clearly wouldn't work. Bill was living, breathing proof of that. Logically, it made sense to him. But that didn't change how sick he felt about it. The possibility was there, and he knew it. Both of them did, and it showed within their silence.

"Alright, Cipher. I will," Ford agreed after a long inner deliberation. "Now, what's next?"

Bill grinned widely, the tension in the air dispersing almost as quickly as it had been created. "I think you'll like this one!" he crooned, pushing himself off the desk and standing up. Ford watched him do so, unamused by his antics. Bill stepped towards the opposite corner of the room, running a hand over a triangular prism on one of the displays. "You can think of it like revenge if you want. I mean, if that makes it more your cup of tea. But I'm gonna need you to put one of those metal bits in my head, and this one isn't negotiable."

Ford's eyes went wide. "What?! Are you insane?!" he demanded, standing up to face the blonde.

Bill laughed, hands on his hips. "Your asking implies you didn't already know that, smart guy!" he replied with a shrug, pointing one hand up at his head. "Regardless, I need this little operation done now. Pine Tree's waiting for me and the longer I'm here the more convinced one of us is being murdered he'll become."

Ford rubbed his chin, thinking it over. "I don't currently have the anesthesia to numb it, so I-"

Bill hushed him, continuing his little stroll around the room. "Don't care. It's now or never, and I won't accept the alternative," he interrupted, picking up a globe in the corner and spinning it in his hands.

Stanford didn't respond for a long while, but Bill decided that was a good sign. "You're serious..." He seemed baffled by the idea, but not entirely opposed. He wasn't quite sure how this effected his view of the blonde. Was it devotion, determination, or stupidity that drove such recklessness? Or was it all three? Ford sighed, turning away from the demon and towards the elevator. "Well come on then. My equipment is on the next floor," he said, entering another code into a keypad on the wall. The elevator opened up, and both of them stepped inside. The ground swayed under them, and once it ceased, the doors reopened.

Ford made his way across the dimly lit room, gesturing towards a black chair. "I'd suggest getting comfortable. It won't last long," he remarked, eyes glazing over the objects on his shelves.

Bill scoffed at that, unsure whether he was proud of Ford's honesty or fearful of it. Either way, dread weighed heavily in his stomach, and he felt nauseous from it. Giving a nervous sigh, he sat down in the chair, fidgeting slightly. It wasn't like him to be so anxious, but newfound human instincts had led pain to become less amusing and more so unpleasant. Ford's soft footfalls drew nearer until he was directly behind the blonde. "Try not to move," he ordered sternly, adjusting the position of Bill's head so it was facing downwards and tipped slightly to the side. "This shouldn't take more than a few seconds, but you're going to want to fight me on this. So I'd say it's probably a good idea for you to find something you can do to occupy your hands. You'll need all the distraction you can get."

Bill didn't really respond to that, but he clasped his hands together in his lap to show he'd been listening. His heart was beating like a hummingbird's wings and his throat felt incredibly dry. But he had asked for this, and to do what he wanted, this was necessary. Protecting his mind was top priority, and of course this would help him in doing so. As well as giving Dipper yet another reason to put trust in him.

But the most important reason was nothing like that.

Ford seemed to hesitate. "This is likely the most paranoid thing I've ever done to myself, you know..." he said quietly, as if to convince Bill to go back on his decision.

Of course, to appear paranoid was exactly what Bill had intended. Doing this conveyed vulnerability, made him look as if he'd reached his limit. Bill wanted the she-demon to think he'd snapped. Because if she thought he was that desperate, then she'd underestimate him.

And after all, wasn't that what Bill himself had fallen for ten years ago?

"I didn't ask for a life lesson, Sixer. Just do it," Bill breathed, closing his eyes. He heard a sigh pass Ford's lips, but the old man didn't say anything more. Cold iron pressed itself uncomfortably against the back of Bill's head, just a little above the nape of his neck. An ear-piercing click resonated througout the otherwise soundless room, and Bill grit his teeth.

No going back on this now, huh?