The first thing Bill did was close the door behind him. The loud creaking served as a reminder that they wouldn't be getting out that way without Bill hearing them. Dipper listened to Bill stumbling around, thinking hard. We need a distraction. Lure him far enough away that he can't get back to the door in time to catch us, Bill crashed against a box, closer this time, so Dipper grabbed Mabel's hand and crept away.

As they went, Dipper kept his eyes peeled for a good way to make some noise. He spotted a precarious looking stack of familiar boxes, labeled with years on the side, and headed toward it. He tried to reach into the top box, but couldn't quite get there. Mabel nudged his arm, crouching in position to give him a boost. He climbed up her, wobbling a bit because he didn't want to lean against the boxes and send them tumbling. Carefully, he reached into the top one and discovered that, like the bunker, these boxes were stocked with cans of food. He grabbed one and began to climb down, but as he did so his elbow nudged the stack.

Dipper and Mabel both backed away, watching the boxes wobble with wide eyes and bated breath. It teetered back and forth for a few seconds, then settled. Dipper exhaled, then watched the boxes for a few seconds more, images of cartoons where the sigh of relief makes the thing fall over appearing in his mind. When it didn't, he shook his head at himself and kept going, moving away from the sounds of Bill crashing about and making threats.

Dipper set up behind a box about halfway between the door and the back of the room. He hefted the can, aiming for the back corner, when Mabel stopped him. She flexed her arm, then shook her head and held out her hand. He looked at his own noodle arms, then grimaced and placed the can into it. Mabel grinned at him, then chucked the can into the back corner. It clanged against the ground a few times, and Bill went quiet, then began laughing as he went towards it. Dipper and Mabel crept to the door as he did so. Dipper put his hand on the doorknob, listening for Bill to sound as far away as possible. He held up his other hand, waiting.

When the moment was right, he sliced his hand through the air, before throwing the door open. It creaked very loudly, then again as Dipper slammed it behind them. He looked around wildly, taking in their options. A way to lock Bill in would be best, but he couldn't see anything that could do it. The stairs were too far away, they'd never make it before Bill came out to see them run downstairs. We'll have to hide in one of the rooms in the hallway, Dipper thought. Mabel reached the same conclusion that he had, sprinting forward. Rather than taking cover in a room, though, she flung the door open and kept going, opening more doors. Good idea, Mabel! Dipper thought, doing the same thing on the other side of the hall.

Dipper started counting down in his head, trying to estimate how long they had until Bill would come out of the room. They had opened about half the doors when Dipper deemed it too risky to continue. "Hide!" he whisper-called to Mabel, before doubling back. He went two doors back from the last door he'd opened and ducked inside. Mabel made to follow him, but then there was a crash at the door to the room Bill was in, and the doorknob began to turn. Mabel had time to exchange a despairing look with Dipper, but she had no choice except to duck into a different room as the door opened. Dipper felt a surge of panic race down his spine watching her disappear, but forced himself to turn and take in the room.

It seemed he'd found a spare office. There was a desk next to the door with some scattered papers and a Cubix Cube on it, along with a small camp bed pushed against the far wall. Guess Stan liked to work late, Dipper thought, eyeing the bed. He was tempted to hide under it, but the room only contained the bed and the desk. It would surely be the thing that Bill checked first, and he felt the panic rise again as he realized this room had very few places to hide. As he looked desperately between the bed and desk, though, he had an idea. He crawled under the desk, facing outward. It felt horribly exposed, the desk offering way less cover than the bed would have, but with the angle of the desk he could see the bed. When Bill walked in, he'd surely look under it first. Once his back was turned, Dipper could slip out of the room and try to meet back up with Mabel.

Or maybe Bill will look under the desk first and chop you into pieces, his brain unhelpfully provided. Dipper suppressed a shudder, wrapping his arms around himself. As he did so, he felt a lump in his vest pocket and suddenly remembered. The time tape! he thought, taking it out of his pocket. This could be our ticket out of here! He tilted his head, ears pricked for signs of Bill. He could hear Bill grumbling about something, but it was muffled enough that he couldn't make out the words, so he had to be a few rooms away.

Dipper focused his attention to the timetape, looking it over from every angle and thinking about how he could fix it. It did a good job of distracting him from his fear, at least until he had to ask himself a question. Am I going to look for tools to fix this with, or am I going to look for Mabel? Dipper stilled, mulling it over. If Stan kept tools in the same place he did in the future, then they would be downstairs. On one hand, taking the time to find Mabel would mean they probably couldn't make it to the stairs in time. It would become a chase again, and Dipper wouldn't have a chance to repair the time tape. On the other hand, leaving Mabel up here with Bill was extremely risky. Bill wasn't playing around, and if anything happened to Mabel, Dipper would never be able to forgive himself.

He was still thinking about it when footsteps rang out and Bill stumbled into the room. Dipper wondered whether Bill couldn't walk right because he wasn't used to human bodies, or if something else was going on. The thought helped keep him grounded, as he got ready to move and held his breath while Bill took in the room. Bill was quiet for a moment, then let out a laugh. He moved further into the room, his legs becoming visible in front of the desk as he said, "Boy, I bet you think you're being clever, eh kid?" Dipper's heart squeezed, and he began to frantically wonder how he could fight back as Bill began to crouch down. He fumbled in his pockets for a weapon, before realizing that it was Bill's backside that was facing him.

Relief flooded through him so hard he almost let out the breath he was holding, but fortunately he stopped himself at the last moment. I don't think I've ever been that happy to see Grunkle Stan's butt, he thought as he creeped behind Bill and out of the room. After one last moment of hesitation, he made for the stairs. I'm not abandoning her, he justified to himself. I'm securing our exit, I'll be back as soon as I can. This isn't like when I went after the Society on my own. Dipper was good at rationalizing, but he couldn't stop the small bit of guilt and the large amount of fear for Mabel as he made for the kitchen.

For some reason, Grunkle Stan kept a set of tools under the sink. "In case it breaks," he would always say. Right now, Dipper just hoped Stan had the same philosophy in this time. He opened the sink, reaching under it carefully. With a floor between them, he could afford the few noises made by rummaging around under the sink, but he couldn't afford to get complacent. He felt a rush of joy as his hand closed over a familiar handle, and he maneuvered it out from its hiding place. He set the toolkit down lightly on the counter and opened it, then took out the time tape and set it beside the tools. He glanced over his shoulder, uneasy with keeping his back to both entrances, before shaking his head and getting to work.

The time tape was by far the most complicated thing Dipper had ever handled. All he could really do was put the parts back where he thought they fit and secure them in place the best he could. A few times, he felt his focus sharpening onto the task of putting it back together, and he had to deliberately stop and remember to listen for Bill. That made the process take even longer, and while he was making progress, it was nowhere near as fast as he would've liked. As time stretched on, he grew more and more worried about Mabel. It was only after reaching for a screwdriver that he realized his hands were starting to shake. He gripped the screwdriver tightly, willing them to stop. Breathe, he reminded himself. You can't afford to lose it now. Mabel's counting on you to fix this, you need to trust that she can take care of herself until you get it done. He felt marginally better, until he reached for the time tape and heard a sound that made his blood run cold.

A familiar scream rang out from upstairs, and Dipper was halfway to the stairway before he realized he'd started running. "Mabel!" Dipper screamed as he tore up the stairs, sprinting toward the door that he remembered Mabel being in. He skidded to a stop in the doorway, seeing Bill standing over Mabel with his knife raised. "No!" Dipper yelled, throwing the screwdriver that he still had in his hand. Bill turned at the sound of his voice, the psychotic grin on his face turning to a grimace of pain as the screwdriver smacked him between the eyes.

"Argh, again with the face!" Bill said, reeling back. Mabel took the opportunity to run around him and toward Dipper. Dipper grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the stairs.

"What's the plan," Mabel said.

"I've almost got the time tape fixed," Dipper said, "I just need a few more minutes." Behind them, Bill was still ranting, but it was moving toward them. "I'm just not sure how we're going to get them."

"Easy," Mabel said, tugging her hand out of Dipper's grip. She stopped at the base of the stairs. "I'll keep Bill distracted."

Dipper's eyes widened. "Mabel, you can't-"

"I have to!" she snapped back, "It's the only way to fix that time tape and get us outta here!"

"But-"

"No but's except yours getting to work!" she said, shoving him backwards. He gave her one last look, before darting into the kitchen. He grabbed the toolkit and the broken time tape, then crawled under the sink. There were two reasons for it, the first was to give Mabel access to the kitchen to help her evade Bill, and the second was that he couldn't bear to stand with his back to the door now. He'd barely been able to stomach it when Bill was upstairs, he'd never be able to get the tape fixed while he was running around in the other room.

He settled himself just in time to hear Mabel yell, "Hey! Pay attention to me and what I'm doing!"

"Y'know, I'm getting real sick of your games, kids," Bill growled, and then the sound of running began. Is it just me, or does Bill seem even worse at moving than before? Dipper thought as he listened to the erratic pattern of footsteps. The thought was reassuring, because surely that meant Mabel had a better shot at outrunning him, which let Dipper focus on fixing the time tape. It was a lot harder now, in the darkness and with cramped space. Dipper had to figure it out by touch, and he also had to worry about being quiet again now that Bill was nearby, and between all that his promised "few minutes" went by with minimal progress. C'mon, c'mon! Dipper thought, working furiously.

About five minutes passed from that point, long enough that Dipper was starting to get somewhere with the time tape, when he heard Bill yell, "Enough!" and stop running. Dipper held very still, because Bill was in the kitchen with him. He was panting hard, and Dipper wondered when he'd start the chase back up so he could finish the time tape. Bill didn't do that, though, instead he said, "Y'know, you might've been super easy to manipulate, Stanford, but sometimes I wish you were a better puppet!"

That line about manipulating Stan was very important for their investigation, so it was a shame Dipper couldn't appreciate it over the word puppet ringing in his ears. That's what Bill meant, he thought, and before he could catch himself, he inhaled sharply in shocked horror. He immediately clamped his hands over his mouth, but the damage had been done. Bill laughed that horrible laugh, just to let him know that he was getting closer. Dipper felt like he couldn't breathe, because this was it. His luck had run out, he was going to be found, he was going to die here. "There you are…" Bill said, opening the cabinet under the sink. Dipper let out a terrified squeak as Bill began to reach inside the cabinet.

"WEIRD SCIENCE THINGY, GO!" Mabel's voice yelled out. Bill turned his head slightly, and caught a faceful of strange, blue-green liquid. He spluttered for a moment, then suddenly clutched his head.

"Ugghhh," he said, in Stan's voice. Dipper felt his heart soar as Stan looked at him curled up under the sink. His eyes were unfocused, but not yellow anymore as he said, "What the devil…? I thought I kicked you-" He cut off, his eyes widening in fear, "Oh no, what happened while I was out!"

Key: Seek

GR LSK SAX, TMPV JERDK ERN JEZOK/FYD WEGR LAMX HVSDWGXC SRH CSZIC

Previous code: A DEADLY GAME OF CAT AND MOUSE/SET INSIDE THEIR UNCLE'S HOUSE

Notes: Stanford's back. A few people predicted that the time cops would come to the rescue. It was an option I considered, but I ditched it for two reasons. The bigger one is that I'm not quite ready for them to leave 1982 yet. I want them to have an actual conversation with Ford, and to see McGucket during this time. The other one is that it felt a little weird with the structure I wanted this chapter to have. To paraphrase Yahtzee Croshaw, horror is just as much about what you're running towards as it is about what you're running away from. You need clearly defined goals in this kind of scenario, otherwise it becomes meandering. That's what I was doing with the time tape, and it felt weird to have a whole chapter of proactive choices on Dipper and Mabel's part be resolved by someone else coming in at the last minute.

Also, unfortunate real life update, I'm going to be extremely busy for the next week. This means that the next chapter is going to be a week late. I'll try not to make it two weeks, but it's definitely going to be one week late. Sorry about that.

All that aside, thanks for reading! Ratings and reviews are always appreciated, and I hope you have a good day.