"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls of all ages! It is our pleasure to present to you a creature from a dimension beyond your wildest dreams. We give to you…the one…the only… Blue!"
The loud announcing synchronized voices made Will flinch as a spotlight suddenly beamed on him, blinding his one eye. He hovered limply in the air as the crowd in front of him drew one big collective gasp followed by a predictable amount of elbows, whispers, and camera flashes.
One of the two people on the make-shift stage, the one holding a slender azure chain yanked on it subtly, and she artistically twirled closer to the triangle. "You're on, damn it! Do what we rehearsed," Mabel hissed with the venom of a snake and the face of an angel. Her twin gave a small smile as he pressed down on the jeweled broach pinned to his tie, and the demon felt a release in the chain. Will shuttered and looked over at Mason, imagining he was anywhere else but here, and unfurled his cartoonish hands. A blossom of white and blue fire bloomed in each hand. The crowd oohed and ahhed like children watching a puppet show as the demon blew a bright spray of flame just above the audience's heads.
Mason took off his gloves and pulled a worn thick leather-bound book from his cape, flipping through the pages as if searching for something.
Internally Will bristled and backed away, the chain yanking him back. Mason's amateur yet effective incantations were the highlight of the performance, and what Will called the Bad Words. The teen began mumbling and holding a hand out as if reaching for the demon. As soon as his words amplified Will felt a sharp pain pressing on him from all sides, growing in intensity until he curled in on himself, the invisible force crushing him until he turned into more of a liquid dancing in the air, swirling around and through Mason's fingers. The pain was unlike any physical sensation he had experienced in this dimension, having his molecules stretched, condensed, and rearranged a hundred times over. He couldn't help but whimper quietly. He felt a small piece of himself being crushed under Mason's thumb, warning him to keep quiet.
He was manipulated into more forms than he could count for what felt like hours, even though it was a forty-minute show. By the time the last echoes of the final applause had dissipated, Will was nothing more than a handful of shards scattered across the stage like glass. All he could do was lay there and look up at the striped tent ceiling, barely stifling a sob. It hurt .
Mabel and Mason held hands and bowed low on the stage, crushing some of Will in the process. Mabel thanked everyone for coming out and to come again before disappearing behind the curtain, Mason following close behind with the flourish of a peacock.
After the last of the audience trickled out the intangible force returned and pulled on Will, snapping him back together piece by piece. The demon materialized behind the curtain, right in front of the twins with the blue chain securely fastened again. "Pretty good turnout tonight if you ask me," Mabel noted sweetly as she scooped Will up in a crushing hug, making the chain clink loudly against her costume rhinestones, making the demon yelp and flinch at the embrace. She turned to Mason and he helped her unfasten a couple of the clasps of her costume so she could breathe. She sat in front of her lit-up mirror in the corner of the storage area and inspected her face, Will secured in her arms. "It was almost as full as our opening night."
Her brother scoffed and put his book away, sweeping past his sister and wrenching on the chain after him. Will was ripped away from Mabel with a squeak and obediently floated after him, stealing a glance back to see Mabel pouting after them. "That's just the problem. Opening night was a landslide. Literally. The tent was already exceeding maximum capacity and cars were lined up all the way to town. We don't want too many of the wrong people digging their nose into-"
"Aww Dipper," Mabel teased, cradling her chin in her hands condescendingly. "Scared are we?" She stepped behind a folding screen and started to change. "Didn't know someone was starting to wuss out on me."
"No, just thinking one step ahead of the next dollar," Mason growled, shoving Will into a secluded cage in the opposite corner where suitcases and props hid him from view. The chain stayed on.
"Listen, Nitwit," Mabel's airy voice turned into an animal snarl. "I take care of the scams, you worry about your magic." Mabel's voice came closer, her small footsteps almost imperceptible to Will. We've got a good gig going on here and you are not lousing it up. I am never going back to California and we're going to be happy here. Got it?" Will could hear the spit in her voice as said "happy."
Mason smirked, his pale face just barely in sight, "Whatever you say, dearest sister." Will shivered at his tone. He could just tell the teen was calculating something in his twisted mind.
At this the back entrance tent flap opened and a silver old man with glasses and hard stubble limped across the darkened grass.
Mabel turned her head at the sound and shrieked with joy as she ran up to him, her anger from seconds ago evaporating. "Grunkle Ford, Grunkle Ford! How did you like the show?" She hugged him tightly and stepped back so he could recover.
The man's tired gray eyes swept back and forth as his body rattled with old age. "It was riveting as always, sweetheart," he said without a drop of enthusiasm. He ruffled Mason's styled hair, exposing the birthmark on his forehead. The boy gave a smile that looked more like a sneer.
Mabel ignored both boys' behavior and took a cuff of Ford's coat sleeve, fiddling with it like a toy. "Have you made any progress on the machine?" She asked with the innocence of a daisy.
Those words made Will snap back to the nauseating conversation, wrapping his hands around the metal bars and craning his thin side out as far as it could go.
"Barely any today, I'll have to run into town again to get more supplies."
"When will it be ready?" Dipper said impatiently, tossing his cloak and undone tie on a costume rack. The broach no longer clasped to it. "I'm getting tired of waiting. Ford."
"Soon Dipper, soon. I promise. It'll be ready before you know it." He said it like a grandfather assuring his grandchild of a dessert in the oven.
"Don't call me that. Only Mabel can call me that," Mason snapped, glaring at the old man.
Ford looked at his great-nephew for a long moment before sighing. "I'm sorry, Mason."
At this point Will sank down to the bottom of the cage, leaning against the side in disappointment. The rest of the conversation faded into the background. He distantly heard the tent flap open and a small beam of daylight spilled across the wall facing him before he was left in the dark, three sets of footsteps waning as the family left for home. Even the lights from Mabel's mirror betrayed him as they flickered off.
He sat there for a while, listening to the faint sounds outside: the things called birds chirruping, some young humans running around, those metal boxes the big humans ride to go places. Eventually all those sounds faded like Mabel, Mason, and Ford, leaving him completely alone.
That was…ok though. He wouldn't be alone for too much longer, and that thought comforted him a lot. He squeezed his eye tightly shut, as if that would help him fall asleep faster, and he slowly listed to the side. His arms fell by his slanted angles, limp.
When he opened it again he was indeed in a different place, this one colorful and bright with no sharp edges and patterns shifting beneath his feet. Will floated over the ground, feet skimming the surface like river water.
"Bill?" He called out timidly.
Some distance away Will could just make out the shape of a larger yellow triangle appearing through a clump of flat red circles, moving its eye across its body until it landed on the blue triangle a stone's throw away. He could see the eye widen. "Will!" Bill Cipher vanished and materialized next to him, looking him up and down. "How bad was it today? Answer me." He flipped upside down in the air as he circled him, eye furrowing at the lack of marks on the other triangle.
"I-It wasn't bad today," Will answered, looking down at his feet.
"Will," Bill's voice deepened to an eldritch octave.
Will flinched, clasping his hands behind his back and hesitantly flipping his unscathed blue bricks over to reveal the hidden sides, chipped and cracked and smeared with burn marks.
Bill's yellow form flashed blood red for an instant before returning back to normal. "They're going to kill you," he murmured under his breath.
"How, how are you, Will?" He asked, this time loud enough for the blue demon to hear.
His cobalt eye flicked down and blinked open and shut repeatedly, his little hands balling behind his back. "When are you going to take me home?" He croaked, his top angle drooping like a dying flower. "I wanna go home," he pleaded, taking one of Bill's fingers in his. "Take me home, Bill." His voice grew smaller and smaller in the dreamscape.
Bill's eye widened as he quickly floated closer to the blue demon, taking Will's hand in his. "I swear I'm getting really close, pal. I have a plan and I think it'll only be three more days till I get to ya. Hey," he flipped up Will's top corner so it would stand straight and so Will could actually look at him. "Do you trust me? Can you hold out till then?"
Will stared long and hard at the yellow demon, trying to find even the slightest hint of dishonesty in the single cat eye. He gasped a breathless laugh of relief. "Uh-huh! I can do that. You, you can count on me!"
"Yeah I can," Bill's eye crinkled into a smirk as he tossed him into the air. Will spun around a dozen times before floating back to the ground, giggling a little. "And we're gonna get as far away from here as possible and explore more dreamscapes and play those math games you love and be together for all time."
Will bounced up and down, form glowing a little brighter. "You promise? Really?"
"Really. You hold out three more days, and I'll take ya away from all this forever. Deal?" At this his hand became engulfed in blue flame, and for just an instant, Will flinched back before readily shaking it with his own paler fire.
"Deal!"
The two triangles glanced up as the world around them began to fuzz and flicker, like a TV channel losing reception. "Looks like it's time to wake up, kid. I'll visit tomorrow. Promise."
Will's heart crumbled at that idea, but it was ok. He could do this. Bill could do this. He beamed as he looked up at the larger triangle. "I love you, big brother." Neither one of them moved or even let go of the other's hand until everything faded to white around Will, Bill disappeared, and he woke up to something slamming against his cage bars.
…
Bill stared at the empty space where Will had been just a moment ago, making himself turn to look out into the bleached void before him. "I love you too, Will."
…
"H-hey! Give that back, Paz, it's mine!"
Pacifica Southeast giggled and rolled her eyes as her ten-year-old cousin bounced up and down on the vinyl seat in a futile attempt to get his hat back. His thick southern accent pleaded with her as their Greyhound bus jostled along a road in serious need of some tax dollars.
She wasn't acting maliciously, per se, but darn it she was just so bored . There were only pine trees lining the highway as far as the eye could see and all Gideon wanted to do was play games like "Guess what I'm thinking" or "20 questions." And he always won.
Both their parents had decided that their children were in much need of some fresh air away from technology and school for a couple of months, and after having discovered that both families had the same idea, they decided to send the two off together so they wouldn't be alone.
And technically, it was better, though Pacifica would have preferred almost anyone to Gideon Pines. His accent grated on her nerves after a while, his nice pressed shirt and slacks made her self-conscious of her own loud-colored clothes (mostly her handmade sweaters), and his smaller body made him less than ideal for playing outside with her all day.
No, she needed a little fun in her life.
"Ok ok, I'll give it back, if you agree to play one of my games."
Gideon pouted and stuck his hat back on his unruly white hair. "Your games always end up with glitter all over me."
"And what's so bad about that?" Pacifica quipped as she dug through her duffle bag, pulling out a baggie of cosmetics, all shades of pink. "Pleeeease?"
Gideon looked at the blush brushes with an air of mercy pleading, which Pacifica wasn't about to administer any time soon. He bit his lip and looked out the window, legs dangling over the seat. He suddenly smiled and turned back to her. "I'll let you do my face if you play my game at the same time. Deal?"
"Deal." Paz snapped open her eyeshadow palette and got to work, instructing Gideon to move when needed. The ten-year-old pursed his lips and closed his eyes thoughtfully. "Is it alive?"
"Yup." she chirped.
"Human?"
"Nope."
"Animal?"
"Yessir."
"Mammal?"
"... yes."
"... is it a llama?"
Pacifica threw her lipstick collection down in exasperation. "How on earth did you do that?"
Gideon started at her reaction and sat on his hands shyly. "Just lookin at the clues, you know? It's your third favorite animal, and you were doodling one on the window with your breath mist stuff at the start of the trip... Wanna play again?"
She sighed and picked up her brush, twirling it with her hands. "I guess I don't really have a choice."
So they continued for the next half hour, Paz giving Gideon the makeover of the century while he guessed her thoughts, always in ten questions or less. While working, Pacifica made it her personal mission to stump this little psychic. She thought of pink elephants, charcoal-flavored ice cream, glow-in-the-dark mushrooms, and the name of her first crush, he guessed all of them.
She shook her head in defeat as she pulled away to see the final product of her work. It was pretty good if she did say so herself. Sure the pinks were a little bright, and she smudged the shadow in a couple of places, but she nodded in satisfaction and presented a little mirror for Gideon to see, expecting only beaming reviews.
Gid shrieked and whacked the mirror accidentally out of her hand. "I look terrible," he hissed, already burying his face in his sleeve to rub it off, making Pacifica gasp in hurt horror. "What did you do ?"
Her face turned from shock to saltiness real fast, crossing her arms as she watched her work being ruined. "What's the matter, are you afraid someone will see you?"
"No," he sighed, grimacing at the state of his shirt before continuing to scrub. "But it's not for me, ok? I like my face how it is."
"Fiiiiiiine," she said dramatically, flopping onto the stained seat and picking at her painted nails. "Any idea how close we are?"
Gideon's gasp made her perk up. "As a matter of fact, I think we're here!" She straightened just in time to see a sign painted in peeling green and orange: Welcome to Gravity Falls!
"Finally!" She laughed, looking up at the hilltop just grazing over the forest line. On it stood a mansion encased in four stone walls like a castle. The sun disappeared over the horizon, haloing the house in darkness.
The cousins glanced at each other. Their parents had said they would be staying at a manor with some distant relative of Gideon's. McBucket or something. They didn't know them very well, but apparently their parents knew he could be trusted with their children. Paz hoped her mom and dad were right.
The bus dropped them off at the next stop, the driver's route ending with the small town. It was up to them to walk up the steep granite driveway, Pacifica having to help Gideon pull his suitcase halfway up. By the time they reached the main gate, they were both glazed with sweat and breathing hard, throwing their luggage down as Gideon knocked on the door as hard as he could.
He was startled when the door gave way against his fist and creaked back, revealing the pathway to the front entrance, decorated on either side with wooden sculptures of proud-looking deer, heads tilted up to the dusky sky.
No one was there to greet them. No relative, no butler, no landscape workers, though the front yard was impeccably adorned with oak trees and willows framing the gables. The entire place looked like a ghost town–er, house. Same thing.
Gideon took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. This was family, right? They were expecting the children, they might even be worrying about how long their bus ride was delayed, there was nothing to be afraid of, right?
"C'mon, let's go find the welcome party," he said confidently, accent betraying him, becoming even thicker when nervous. Pacifica shook her head and smiled, taking her suitcase handle and rolling it behind her as they trudged up the unnecessarily long path to the front porch.
The huge double doors were wide open, much to Pacifica's unease, gnats zipping in and out of the foyer as they pleased. They were just about to reconsider going back to the bus stop to find a payphone when they heard the metallic twang of some instrument bouncing off the marble decor.
The two shared another look, but this time maybe just a sliver of curiosity was mixed in.
The music coming from inside sounded laid-back and unconcerned, happy to go wherever the musician wanted it to go. It sounded, dare Paz say it, friendly. Her street smarts took the back seat as she craned her neck to see into the well-lit polished cascade of high-class luxury, her foot involuntarily stepping up the stairs, one at a time. Gideon frowned behind her but followed close on her heels.
The music grew louder the further they walked through the front doors, gaping in awe at the grand scale of everything around them. Paz shuffled her hands into her sleeves self-consciously, feeling a little out of place in such a beautiful house.
"Gid! Don't touch anything !" She hissed before Gideon's hand could touch the polished wood panels lining the wall. He jumped and hastily clasped his hands behind his back in a more observational attitude, giving her a side-eye. For just a minute she may have felt bad, considering she wanted to touch everything just as much as he did, but her curiosity was again drawn back to the music, sharp and close, coming from the top of the velvety stairs.
Lounged leisurely on the top step sat a lithe old man in a tweed suit and long sideburns, contently plucking an ancient-looking banjo, the image of an aristocratic hillbilly.
The person on the stairs glanced up, his spindly fingers on the instrument's strings lifting. His large eyes deepened into a smile He set down his banjo and walked down the steps up to the children, dust flecks in the air churning in the twilight window panes in his wake. "Pleasure to meet you kids, you can call me Fiddleford."
Hello you lovely people! Thanks for reading. If you have the time, reviews are greatly appreciated, tell me whatcha think! 😊
Remember, reality is an illusion, the universe is a hologram, buy gold, byeeeeeee!