Bill managed to get back to town, and Dipper returned to Mabel.

Mabel asked, "Are you okay?"

Bill said, "I'm fine."

Stanley asked, "Why would you want to resurrect Cipher after all this time?"

Bill answered, "It was inevitable; I have a prophecy to fulfill."

Stanford asked, "Didn't you already fulfill the prophecy written about you?"

Bill said, "No, I still need to be banished."

Stanley said, "Why would you want that?"

Bill replied, "I don't, but someone has to answer for my crimes."

Stanley thought for a moment before asking, "Is resurrecting yourself necessary? Isn't you being technically dead payment enough?"

Bill thought about it.

"If you wanted to resurrect yourself," Mabel asked, "Why did you warn us what you were doing?"

Bill noted, "It's late. We can discuss this further tomorrow."

"No," Stanford said, "We need to know now, William."

"I warned you because," Bill admitted, "I couldn't bear the thought of losing my family. I'm so far from them, and I didn't want their last interaction from the only family member to go abroad to end in a death sentence."

Dipper asked, surprised. "You have a family here on earth?"

"Yeah," Stanford answered, "The Lownies, they're nice folks, if a bit odd."

Bill muttered, "Sometimes I feel so alone in the multiverse it crushes me flat, but being with people I know loves me eases that pain."

Stanley hugged him and said, "Well, you don't have to worry about that now."

Bill smiled, hugging Stanley back, saying, "Thanks, that means a lot."

They let each other go.

Stanford asked, "So, where are you living now?"

Bill answered, "McGucket is renting out some extra rooms in his mansion. I'm staying in one of the smaller rooms. It's Itay-themed!"

He led both sets of twins to the mansion. The gate was always open as there was always traffic. They went into the large mansion, and there was a notable difference in decor. There was a lot less of it, mostly just taxidermy animals and paintings of nature. It was a lot cozier, if a bit bare.

"Welcome, friends," McGucket chirped, "You like what I've done with the place?"

"It's quite the improvement," Mable said.

McGucket smiled proudly.

"Nice to see you," Bill said, "Now come on, I'm eager for you to see this."

Bill led them away from the main foyer down a hall. He showed them his room. There was an Italian flag hanging on the wall, as well as several pictures of some famous buildings. There was also an empty corkboard. There was a picture of the Lowie family pinned to a corner. All things of holy objects surrounded a bed; the bed itself was surrounded by salt on the ground.

"I uh," Bill said, embarrassed, "Did what could keep any nightmare demons at bay without accidentally banishing myself from my bed."

Stanford was shocked and said, "You mean this whole time, I could have just had a bible nearby to prevent you from getting into my head?!"

"Oh, "Bill asked, "Were you baptized?"

Stanford sighed, "No."

"Yeah," Bill said, "Sorry, bud."

Dipper stated, picking up a candle with a decorative wrapper depicting a plain angel (a human with wings), "This isn't even biblically accurate."

"Hey," Bill said, "It still works!"

Bill gently placed the paper crane on the nightstand next to a cross.

Mabel yawned and said, "I don't want to leave you alone like this."

She then pulled out a little ball of yellow yarn from her pocket.

"Hold on to this," Mabsl said, giving it to Bill, "Sleep with it in your arms, and I'll try knitting you a little night buddy tomorrow."

Bill said, "Uh, thanks."

He cradled it like a baby. The twins started to leave, but Lownie stopped Dipper.

Lownie asked, "May I know your name?"

Dipper replied, "Uhm, just call me Dipper!"

Then Bill let him leave; he snuggled the little ball of yarn.

He began to think things over as he put the yarn on his bed and got into his pajamas. He sprinkled holy water on the paper crane and the yarn. He got under covers and drifted off to sleep.

Bill dreamed he was caught in a stormy sea. Well, I'm not dreaming exactly. In reality, he was remembering a time he had hijacked Stanley's body. The Stan-O-War 2 was tossed around the waves and wind like a beanbag in a hacky-sack convention. (Don't ask him where he even came up with that comparison; it just came to mind.) The storm had clashed down hard and fast. Bill was scrambling to keep the boat from capsizing and possibly waking Stanford. As the storm raged, he felt so scared. It was the first time he had been afraid in so long. He was doing what he could but didn't have his powers. He just had to sit tight, clinging to the steering wheel, hoping it would end. Eventually, the storm ended, and Bill was left alone at night.

Working quickly, he started to make a pot of coffee. He knew how to do it. It wasn't particularly complex. Yet he felt his hands shake as he attempted to gather his bearings from the harsh storm. He tried to shove it from his mind by watching the coffee brew. He listened to every little noise the machine made. It was oddly calming hearing such a primitive machine work towards a useless little goal. Watching the dark liquid fill the pot was also weirdly easing him as he calmed down from his fear. When it finished, he picked up a mug by its cup. He could feel the warmth of the liquid as it poured into the mug. He burned himself a bit because he was spaced out, pouring and overfilling his mug. He stopped pouring, returning the pot to the machine.

He stood out on the ship's deck, taking the mug by its handle and pouring a bit into the sea. He then stared at the horizon, smelling the bitter coffee and salty air. He watched as the sun rose. He closed Stanley's eyes, waiting for him to wake up. A hand was set on his shoulder. It must have been Stanford. Bill panicked, squeezing his eyelids tighter, trying to wake Stanley up.

"Hey," Stanord's voice cooed, "Are you okay?"

Bill cleared Stanley's throat, doing his best to hide his voice. He opened his eyes but didn't dare look at Stanford, now staring at the sky rather purposely.

"I'm fine," Bill said somewhat dismissively, "I just had some trouble sleeping."

"Still having nightmares," Stanford asked.

"Yeah," Bill said jokingly, "I bet Bill cursed me as he went out."

There was a bit of silence as Bill felt the hand taken off him. He closed his eyes, trying to force Stanley awake again, as he heard Stanford leave for under the deck. Bill poured a bit more coffee into the sea. He was trying to make it look like he was drinking the bitter liquid. When he heard Stanford return, he leaned on the boat's railing. He shifted his weight to look less conspicuous—the feeling he was trapped and scared rewashed over him. The physical storm had passed, but the mental storm loomed. He had no power here, either. Not if he wanted to protect Stanley's mind. He could only hold onto the mug and hope Stanley would wake up.

Stanford then took the mug gently from Bill's grip. Bill looked down as Stanford turned Stanley's body to himself.

"Judging by the puddle by the coffee maker," Stanford said, taking Stanley's burnt hand in his, "And this burn mark, you spilled coffee on yourself."

"I did, "Bill admitted, noting just how gentle Stanford was with his hand. Stanley's hand! It was Stanley's hand that was in pure agony from that bitter liquid from that primitive machine.

Stanford asked, "But why? Did something happen last night?"

Bill hesitated but replied, "There was a storm last night. It was a rather intense experience."

Bill wasn't surprised to hear Stanford's gasp for him. His brother! He has concern for his brother! What did catch Bill off guard was when he could feel the sting of the burn ointment Stanford put on the light burn. It was excruciating, no, barely even tingling pain.

"Be more careful next time," Stanford playfully scolded, wrapping Stanley's, not Bill's, hand. "You shouldn't have to weather the next storm alone."

Bill stifled a laugh.

"What's so funny," Stanford asked.

Bill had a smile on his face as he asked, "Was that pun on purpose?"

For a moment, Bill forgot his fear of losing his new sanctuary in Stanley's mind. He saw Stanford's kind smile as he admitted, "Yeah, I've been working on it."

Then, almost immediately, He remembered why he shouldn't be looking at Stanford. He faced down just as Stanford's eyes flickered over to his. Bill squeezed his eyelids again, trying to wake Stanley up.

"Was that," Stanford muttered just as Bill felt Stanley waking up. Bill willingly allowed himself back into the deepest crevass of Stanley's mind. Bill comes back to this memory now and then. He wonders if Stanford caught him or even realized what he was doing. Bill wondered if Stanley was purposely buying time so he would see this less hostile side of his brother. Bill wondered if either one realized what happened.

It didn't matter now, as the Nightmare Realm appeared in Bill's present dream. It was like looking at a stain upon the cosmos, his masterpiece of weirdness and chaos.

"Wonderfully horrid," Bill murmured.

The sound of a beeping alarm woke Bill up for the next day. He had somehow gotten tangled up in the yellow yarn on the night. He worked quickly to wrap it back up into a ball.