Bill was starting to have some nagging doubts about Stan.

It probably started when the conman started telling him his whole life story.

It was an unfortunate thing indeed to realize that there wasn't a single word that came out of his savior's mouth that wasn't dishonest in some way.

"... And that's how I lost my left pinky toe to a jackalope in Kansas." Stan finished proudly shouldering his bat as he continued down the cracked empty highway they'd found. "Say, I'm parched. Can ya get me a soda or something?"

Bill stopped, bare feet stinging a little on the hot asphalt, and rolled his eyes, sighing internally. He snapped his fingers and a glass of fizzling Pitt Cola appeared in thin air, nudging Stan's fez like it was waiting patiently to be gulped down.

Stan blinked at it. "I'm gonna like having you around." His happiness was considerably tarnished when the 2D shape slipped right out of his hand and splashed on the ground in a weird spray of thin lines.

The two stared at the mess for a second. "It's… flat, Can't you make it not flat?" Stan deadpanned, looking immeasurably disappointed. He looked up from the spilled cup at Bill wringing his fingers behind his back, like he wasn't sure whether to look guilty or not. He needed Stan to need him. Bill had to be useful enough to keep around to find Will. He knew his deal with Stan was binding, but Stan could also make the journey as easy or hard as he wanted it to be.

Instead of getting angry, however, Stan just huffed and looked at him scrupulously. "Relax, a weak demon is better than no demon at all. What's the matter, kid? You still bummed about reality?"

Bill chewed the inside of his cheek and ducked his head. He didn't say anything about it earlier, but Stan seemed to know anyway. It was childish. When the demon first came through the portal and finally learned how to move his two new flesh sticks in a walking motion, he took in the world around him for the first time and—

—It was… boring.

He had only been able to learn about the world through dreams, and while he knew everyone's dreams were different, and some were crazy beyond anything he could ever think of, he had maybe expected… more. The woods and trees were silent except for birds chirping and woodpeckers pecking. The breeze was gentle and made the pines sway back and forth and the grass by the road ripple. There were no flying monsters, magic polka dot plants singing choir, talking rocks, antigravity buttons, or mathematical equations anywhere to be seen. Nothing fun or exciting anywhere .

He was disappointed. Really disappointed.

"No, of course not," Bill retorted, making Stan laugh roughly.

"You're a really bad liar kid. Heh, don't worry, we'll fix that later," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his grimy hand and looking around. "First we gotta figure out where we are."

Bill looked up from the ground in surprise. "What do you mean figure out where we are? I thought we were in Gravity Falls!" Anxiety set in cold and fast. He thought the portal would take them straight to Will; that's what he made his magic do. What on earth was Stan talking about?

"We could be in Germany for all I know," Stan said casually, swinging his bat onto his shoulder again and stepping onto the road, not helping Bill in the least. "All I know is that this weather is way too warm for early June in Oregon. We must be at least a couple hundred miles south."

"What?!" Bill cried, his hands flying up instinctively to his head. "Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

"And have you bellyaching about it for an hour? Not likely. Now shut up, I'm trying to think."

Immediately Bill snapped his mouth shut.

Stan stood still on the yellow divider paint and cocked his head to the side, listening. After a moment his wrinkly face stretched into something along the lines of a smile. "I got an idea. Just do as I say and you'll be fine."

Bill gulped and twisted the sleeve of his shirt, now hearing what Stan was hearing: a large and heavy truck or bus, low and rumbling as it down-shifted on the highway. He didn't resist when Stan yanked him over to the shoulder of the road, though internally his nose wrinkled at his dirty hands grabbing his arm, staying quiet while looking anxiously from side to side.

Stan jammed his fingers in a "thumbs-up" gesture, looking bored. "Here, hold this," he pushed his bat into Bill's grasp and put his hand on his hip, playing with the blocked view of the opposite treeline by squinting. Out of intuition Bill hid the bat behind his back and waited for the automobile to come into view.

Soon enough, a truck pumping puffs of smoke into the air and pulling a full load of chopped lumber came into view. Much to Bill's surprise, the truck slowed down once it approached them, and screeched to a stop, much to Stan's smug satisfaction. The fire-engine red door popped open to reveal a humungous lumberjack, pound upon pound of muscle beneath a thick plaid flannel with the reddest and scraggliest hair and beard he had seen since the Vikings lived.

"Where are you headed?" Stan asked casually, like he couldn't care less.

"Oregon. You getting on?" The lumberjack said gruffly like it wasn't a request. Bill started sweating a little when Stan pushed him towards the middle seat, getting the perfect view of the lumberjack's shiny ax resting between his feet. Bill froze for a moment, all the dreams he'd seen of people being killed in car accidents coming back to him, some in really horrible ways. He'd even seen some cars turn into monsters and swallow passengers whole. These things couldn't possibly be safe!

Stan didn't really give him many options when he shoved the demon into the truck and squeezed in next to him.

Bill dropped the bat beside the ax and squeezed his eyes shut, gripping the fabric on his knees tightly.

He opened them again almost immediately, deciding that if he was going to smash into something at 80mph, he wanted to see it coming, even if it made his stomach lurch along with the truck when it started moving.

The demon stayed in his cramped, tense position for nearly three hours, and in that time he watched the scenery blur past him. He swallowed, trying to wet his bone-dry mouth. He loved flying over the flat horizons at light speed in the second dimension, but it was always him doing the moving, not being trapped in a small metal box without being able to control anything .

He took a shaky breath and shook his head. If he kept thinking about it for another minute he would go mad, so he tried to think about something else, anything else. He side-eyed the two larger men pressed up against him. The lumberjack and Stan were slowly progressing from wary and cautious of each other to rough-housing friends in almost no time at all.

Bill squinted his eyes at Stan, watching his every move. Stan seemed to have his own kind of magic with people. He confidently and loudly commented on the beauty of the ax that was dangerously close to cutting Bill's right big toe off. The lumberjack barked an unnecessarily loud laugh and explained that he was planning on giving it as a gift to his oldest son, who he would be seeing in a couple of days once he finished his last shipment.

When the focus of their conversation shifted to who Bill was, with his strange clothes and bare feet, Stan simply chuckled and slung a heavy arm over his squished shoulders, "This little shrimp? This here's my pride and joy, inherited his good looks from me." He ruffled Bill's blond hair, leaving some dirt in it.

Bill grimaced and tried to shake the grime off. Not likely . Besides, there was no way this man was going to buy that thinly-veiled lie.

He bought it.

Bill quietly groaned as a friendship blossomed on either side of him, just trying to focus on the road in front of him. It made his head spin at how fast they were going, but it was still better than listening to these two men. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Stan smack the lumberjack on the shoulder in an affectionate manner and discretely pocket his wallet like a jumping spider on an unsuspecting bug. The demon didn't know why he was surprised. He must have been feeling too miserable to be shocked.

As time went on though, his head started to feel heavy and fuzzed, like he couldn't stay fully alert. He didn't know what it was, but he didn't like it. He couldn't seem to control it either. His eyelids just couldn't stay open, and just as his addled mind realized he must be entering the dreamscape, out of nowhere Stan announced, "This is a good spot."

The truck hissed once again to a stop and Stan pulled on Bill's wrist, not that he needed any prompting to get out of the death trap, and waved goodbye as the lumber truck pulled away and disappeared behind the bend.

"What was that about?" Bill shot at him pointedly, albeit still a little groggy. "That was our ride! Now how are we going to get to the Falls?"

"Never stick around your assets for long, they'll learn all sorts of nasty things about ya," Stan said simply. "Besides, he was starting to ask more questions about you while you were sleeping. Can't have anyone calling Child Protective Service on me again."

Bill rubbed his eyes and didn't even bother to ask about what he meant by 'again.' He was still feeling sleepy. Was this how humans working office hours always felt? "Well, are we gonna catch another ride or something? There's gotta be other meatsacks heading for Oregon."

Stan shook his head, "Nah, it's getting dark and no one will pick us up after the sun sets. We'll walk through the night. By then we'll be nearly halfway out of California. We'll hitch another ride first thing tomorrow."

"Whatever you say, Fez."

…

Turns out, Fez was pretty spot on with his geography. Walking along the practically abandoned road, they came upon a bus stop with a cracked plastic shelter and a map peeling off the back. Gravity Falls was just over 200 miles north. All that lay between Bill and Will were some Red Woods and the odd mountain range. New hope filled Bill with new energy at how close he was getting.

The clouds covering the moon cast muddled puddles of darkness everywhere. It grew so dark Bill couldn't see his own feet in front of him, which unfortunately caused him to bite the inside of his cheek more times than he cared to count with all the sharp things he stepped on.

But the biggest fear that occupied his mind was either falling too far behind Stan or walking way too far ahead, losing him in the darkness.

Suddenly the thought of Stan deliberately sneaking away hit him like a brick, and he suddenly sped up. "Fez?"

He shivered when he didn't hear a reply. "Fez?!"

"What?" Stan's crusty voice sent relief flooding through him. He couldn't have been more than a couple of meters ahead of him. "Keep up, will ya?"

Bill picked up his pace once more and decided to keep talking, no matter what. It was the only way he could be sure Stan wouldn't sneak off. "Why uh, why are you trying to get home?"

"Why are you askin?" Fez's voice sounded suspicious.

Bill shrugged, then remembering Stan couldn't see him. "I guess I just don't get why you want to go home. Your niece and nephew are… terrible—no offense there— and your own twin is, well, it just doesn't seem worth all the effort. You had the power to travel across every dimension if you wanted. Why didn't ya?"

"What part of 'that's none of your business' do you not understand?"

Bill's heart sank a little, but as he was silently trying to find another topic to discuss, he heard Stan continue, "Look kid, little life lesson for ya. No one else in this world will ever get you the way your family does. Your brother? You're lucky, you got a good one, and I'm not the luckiest guy alive, but family? Family you can always count on."

Bill hummed and thought about the small nugget of nonsensical wisdom in his head. Stan was right that he and Will could count on each other, but did that really apply to all families? He'd seen plenty of dreams—especially children's dreams— where family members were the ones doing the most damage to the dreamer, some that made him shiver. No, he knew he and Will were the exception, not the rule.

He became so absorbed in his thoughts that he stepped on something particularly jagged, and this time he couldn't help but yelp at the sharp jolt of pain. Yeah, he did not like this weak squishy human body at all.

"What's wrong?" Stan demanded, the sound of his footsteps stopping.

"Not a thing, Fez," Bill forced out, trying not to squeak as he rubbed his left foot painfully. The demon heard Stan come closer, probably standing right over him. He could smell his breath anyway.

"Make a deal with me," Stan said.

Bill frowned at the darkness where he thought Stan was. "Why?"

"I need to see you. Your other flimsy magic won't cut it."

Bill's frown deepened as he thought for a second. "Um, ok. Never lie to me again and… I'll give you some magic."

"What kind of magic?" Stan scrupled.

"You can ask for what you want, and I'll tell you if it's within my power," Bill said impatiently. He really just wanted to keep walking.

"Can I fly?"

"Mmmm, no. I can't defy this world's physical laws. And from what I can tell, you meat sacks can't fly. I can do small stuff outside your physical laws though."

Bill could imagine Stan rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "...Make me be able to persuade anyone of anything."

The demon shuttered at the prospect and shook his head. "I'll let you convince anyone of anything as long as it's already something they would do of their own free will."

"Fine, just light your damn fire already," Stan said even more impatiently than Bill felt.

Bill held out his hand and, like always, a bright blue flame ignited around his palm. Stan shook it, but instead of letting go, he pulled it closer to Bill's feet, scowling when he saw blood trickling from several gaping cuts on his soles. They were caked in broken beer bottle glass and pine bark shards from the tree line. "Why the hell didn't you say nothin?" he demanded once the fire went out.

"What does it matter? We're getting closer to Will, and we're wasting time." Bill responded, confused when he heard Stan walk off and return minutes later, dropping something heavy in front of him.

Within a few more minutes Bill heard a few sharp clicks and suddenly sparks came to life and ignited a small pile of half-dried pine needles. Fez's face appeared now visible as he blew on the orange flame and let it catch onto the larger kindling. It was barely larger than a lit match with the damp spring kindling, but it was slowing growing, shedding light on the surrounding foliage.

"Why didn't you just do that in the first place?" Bill asked.

"I wanted to squeeze another good deal out of ya," Fez snarked back, tossing some twigs onto the pile.

Bill looked at him confused. "We need to keep going."

"Shut up and get over here," Stan ordered, pointing to the broken asphalt next to him. Bill scowled, crept over, and crossed his legs a safe distance from Stan, beginning to pick the glass and debris from his feet. He ripped the bottom of his pant leg and used it to blot off some of the blood, wincing every now and then. It was only once Bill had a chance to sit down did he realize how tired and sore he was.

After a couple moments of awkward silence, it was Stan who decided to initiate conversation, surprising Bill. "How the heck did your brother get into this mess in the first place?"

The dream demon sighed, partly in relief that he could actually talk for a change. He thought for a moment before answering. "Your great niece, Mabel, walked through a portal one day, just like you did, and found Will. He's not good with being careful—He's never had to be. She just yanked him back through the portal and I, I don't know what exactly's happening to him outside of his and the twins' dreams, but your great niece and nephew are monsters. And I'm going to… I'm going to kill them."

"No you're not." Stan scoffed, gazing bored into the fire and making Bill balk at him. Fez turned to him with a half-lidded look. "You're not going to kill my niece and nephew," Stan elaborated, his yawn showing his teeth fillings and pink gums. "I don't know what the H you are, or why my niece stole your kid brother, but I do know people's character, and you wouldn't be able to kill anything if your life depended on it."

Bill stared at the old man for a couple of beats, unblinking and taking in what he just said. A small part of him revolted at that statement and wanted to reject it immediately. That wasn't true! He could. He would .

He…

Bill sagged and looked back at the fire, heart sinking. Stan was right.

He shoved his embarrassment down. Far.

"Go to sleep, kid." Fez cracked his back and leaned back on his elbows. "You look ready to topple over." Without another word he pulled his fez over his eyes and almost immediately started snoring.

Bill bought his knees up closer to his chest and made sure Stan was truly asleep before opening his hands palms-up. He was dead tired, something about being a magic dream demon in a human body took the life out of him, but he wanted to do one more thing before he slept.

With all his might he concentrated on a single dead leaf on the ground, looking at it like it personally offended him. He wanted to actually see what laws of this world he could bend, or maybe break. He pictured the leaf igniting into flames, or something else small, mostly out of curiosity.

He was disappointed to see no change whatsoever. Sighing, he curled up in a ball on the forest ground and closed his eyes.

If he had stayed awake for a moment longer he would have seen a tendril of smoke waft up from the dead leaf.

Thank you so much for your comments and feedback, you keep writers doing writing things:) Get some water and a nice snack, and I'll have the next chapter out shortly!