The majority of human Earthly religions got reincarnation wrong.
Reincarnation can only occur in particular circumstances, and for those of interdimensional power, the process is much more strict than that of mortal souls. An evil human might pass through the Axolotl's gaze and come out the otherside a shrew, but a dream demon would not have such luck. After all, the Great Salamander is mildly impartial to humans; to her, they were dull creatures. Always bumping into each other and starting wars. Interdimensional creatures are held to a much higher standard. One must pass ethical tests, show self-improvement, and their art during show-and-tell must not contain gorey violence.
And thus, Bill Cipher is expected to be held in Therapism for a long, long time.
"Everyone! This armageddon wouldn't be possible without help from our friend here! Give him a six-fingered hand!"
"You know Sixer, you could still join us!"
"Name's Bill. And your name? Stanford Pines. The man who changed the world."
The nightmares never did stop, their frequency had just…lessened. Stanford Pines had been sailing around the world with his twin brother, Stanley Pines for three years now. They'd set sail at the end of summer–the summer everything had changed–and had come back to Gravity Falls every summer since. His great-niece and nephew returned annually as well. Watching the pair grow up, as inseparable as ever, brought great joy to Ford. Though, he never truly understood their sibling bond. Despite traveling with Stanley, Ford still found awkward moments between them. Sometimes he lie awake at night, rethinking arguments and the past. College, their parents, his perpetual motion machine. Ford knew Stanley had similar moments, but he seemed so much better at letting it go than Ford was. Perhaps it was the thirty years of customer service at the Mystery Shack. Or maybe Ford just…wasn't as good as Stanley. The thought had crossed his mind once or twice. Often. Weekly.
Stanley had saved the world. He'd saved Ford. Ford was not the protagonist of his own story.
Things were getting better. But thirty years of being trapped in between dimensions had changed the man. It taught cruelty, injustice, and several martial arts. If Stanford's father was still alive, he might be impressed with him for more than just money-making reasons.
Ford and Stan were a day's sail from Gravity Falls now. The Oregon coastline brought cold water and the scent of pines. As well as the occasional mermaid, several of which Stan had not only accidentally caught in his fishing net, but had actually gotten a kiss from. Apparently merpeople were quite a fan of confidence.
Ford couldn't deny how good the travel had felt. Oddities became far less frequent outside of Gravity Falls, but not impossible. In the Northern Seas, they'd met friendly hydras, and angry yetis in the East. Stan had an incredible knack for finding gold, which he was particularly excited about bringing back to Gravity Falls. Something about burying it, or buying clown paintings. Ford had an incredible knack for saving them, both at the last minute.
It was the beginning of June. It was time to relax and to refresh. Despite waking up from a nightmare, when Ford looked out to the Oregan coast, he felt hope in his heart.
Stanley's voice rang out from the deck.
"Sheesh, I didn't know fish women were so clingy. She'd been following our boat for the last mile!" His gruff voice carried over the sound of waves.
Our boat. Yes, it did feel good knowing Ford had a brother to trust once again.
"I do remember hearing many romantic promises, Stanley," Ford grimaced. His brother had joined him at the front of the ship. "Many loud promises, You know you're rather aggressive with your serenading, right?"
Stan clasped his brother's shoulders. "Music is the only way into women's hearts. Learned that lesson a few times." He laughed. Stanford laughed with him. No matter how he sulked, things were starting to feel better.
The twins docked into the harbor, and Stanley paid off the dockmaster for holding their trailer for the year. They'd bring the boat back to Gravity Falls this time. Stanley had been eager to take the kids–no, the teens–out fishing in it. Gravity Falls was an easy drive, a few hours inland. They reached the town before sunset.
The Mystery Shack was still somehow spiffy and rundown. With Soos and his wife, Melody in charge, the Shack had kept its glory. And Soos had kept Ford and Stan's home nearly the same, opting to build a homely addition to the side of the Shack rather than renovating the interior.
Ford did his best to smile at the teary (Soos in tears, Stan awkwardly and lovingly patting his back) reunion. He slipped out of the room after a while, letting the pair catch up. He'd been excited to see his laboratory all year. And, in some awful way, excited to see the remnants of the portal.
The secret code entered in the vending machine, the door puffed open, small wisps of white decontamination smoke drifting out the sides. Ford smiled. His trenchcoat whipped behind him as he entered the elevator behind the vending machine. He turned to watch the door close, enjoying the damp, peaceful silence.
He visited his workshop on the second floor first. There Stanford relaxed, the ever-present tension leaving his broad shoulders. He dropped off his coat here, as well as the fifth journal. He'd long ago completed the fourth on his expeditions with his brother, and now was nearing completion of the fifth. Pitiful as it was, Ford was still angry at Bill for destroying his first three journals. Though, that was just one of numerous things Bill had done.
Stanford journeyed to the third floor. It was still in moderate ruin. The giant triangular portal still tilted and broken; various debris scattered among the room. Ford's six fingers grazed the portal's emergency shut-down button. They twisted over it, refusing to press down despite knowing it was useless now.
"I figured you'd be down here,"
Ford's head turned quickly. Ashamed, he placed his hands behind his back. "Stanley!" He said in surprise.
"Don't you get tired of this place?" Stan asked, gently kicking a metal sheet on the ground. A great dust cloud sprung up. "I'm in here for five seconds and I already want to sneeze." Stan walked over to his brother. Ford looked away, then to the portal. Its empty eye stared back at him.
"Am I that predictable?"
"Hah! Maybe I'm just smarter than you think," Stan nudged him, and Ford realized his brother was handing him a beer. "Kids arrive tomorrow. Maybe be less mopey around them. Alcohol helps."
Ford popped off the cap using a nearby table. He smiled. "I wonder how they've been," He took a sip of his drink. Stanley leaned against the table, drinking his own. They both stared at the portal.
"Sixteen. Do you remember being sixteen?"
"Feels like a lifetime ago," Ford admitted.
"You know, I don't miss it. Too many hormones. Too much high school." Stan said.
Ford laughed. He thought of prom. He still remembered how sweaty he felt–how special he felt. Maybe it was good to be normal. "Me either. Let's just hope Dipper and Mable are having a better experience than we are,"
"I'll drink to that."
The brothers clinked bottles. It was another summer, and great things lay in the future.
"Waddles! Waddles give it back!"
"Dipper! Assert dominance, look him in the eye!"
Dipper found himself face-to-face with a giant pig. Waddles was now easily five feet long, and rather rotund. The young lad had his hands to his sides like an old cowboy waiting to draw his pistol. He looked bravely at Waddles, and Waddles gleefully oinked back at him.
"Give-me-my–" Dipper lunged at the pig. "Hat!" he yelled, charging. Waddles charged at the exact same time, and barreled Dipper over. Dipper looked out at the world from an upside-down perspective. He watched as a giggling Mabel gently patted Waddles. The giant pig dropped Dipper's hat without a second thought, preferring the snuggles.
Sixteen-year-old Mabel and Dipper had grown a solid six and five inches (respectively) and were finishing packing for their annual summer trip to Gravity Falls.
Their parents had officially separated three years ago. They lived with their father, and hadn't heard from their mother save for a few letters over the years. It had been easy enough to convince their father to let them go back to Gravity Falls. Honestly, it'd been a little too easy.
Mabel gave Dipper his lumberjack hat back. It didn't have a scratch on it.
"Waddles only took it because he wants to come too!"
"Luckily for Waddles, we're driving this year. So he doesn't need to be so anxious," Dipper grabbed his hat from his sister, glaring at the pig. He wished Waddles understood English. His words had an accusatory tone directed at the pig.
Mabel twirled around. "I know! Isn't it so exciting? I burned thirty-two CDs and even found some old cassettes for the drive!" She reached into her bag–handmade and covered in patches–"Check this out, Dipper! I got Disco Girl!" She teased.
"Wait, really?" Dipper coughed. "Yeah sure, whatever, Disco Girl. That's cool."
The Pines twins waved goodbye to their father as they pulled out of the driveway. It was still dark outside but the sun was beginning to peek through. They'd drive the whole day to make it to Orgean, just in time for sunset. Mabel planned to take the first five-hour shift, and Dipper the second. Both felt oddly nervous about this trip back. At the end of the summer, they'd be seventeen. One last year of high school to go; one last year being teens. Not that eighteen is anywhere close to being an adult. That's just a lie other eighteen-year-olds tell each other.
"I'm so excited to see our Grunkles! I wonder if Stan will have any treasure for us!"
"Yeah, I can't wait. I wrote up three different papers for Great Uncle Ford to review. Oh, and a new campaign of Dungeons, Dungeons, and more Dungeons!"
Mabel rolled her eyes. That was a part of the summer she was not looking forward to.
It was just past dusk when the weary twins finally arrived at the Mystery Shack. Eternally grateful to Soos for preparing what was basically a feast for his houseguests, the family reunited with hugs and handshakes. Mabel gave everyone a new hand-knit sweater, and Waddles was delighted to return to his favorite summer mudpuddle. Dipper had been unable to contain his excitement and flew into his Grunkle's arms, immediately spewing all the new theories he'd come up with over the past year. Even Candy and Grenda had shown up to greet the twins, who gave word that Wendy would be around as soon as she could.
The dinner was delicious, and the summer air was refreshing. Dipper and Mabel felt security in the familiar home. They fell asleep in front of the couch with Stan, dozing off to the kooky shows that plague Gravity Fall's networks.
Stanford covered them with a large blanket. He wished goodnight to Soos and Melody, who ventured back into their own private dwellings. Then, Stanford Pines went outside.
He sat on the porch for a while, looking up at the moon. It was full, and part of him thought it might suddenly blink, or begin to laugh. It did nothing but peacefully drift across the sky as the hours ticked on.
The Milky Way glimmered above Ford. He could recite every constellation in the sky, as well as tell you which stars actually contained life on their planets. Hell, Ford could tell you which dimensions had life, and which were just endless voids.
It never felt like enough. Like there was still knowledge he needed to know. To understand. Ford wanted to put the world on a microscope, to put atoms in a Bunsen burner. His hubris was unfathomable even to himself. Only Bill seemed to fully understand it.
After a few shooting stars, Stanford took himself back inside. He went to his old room, and tugged off his fisherman sweater. The mirrors in the room had long since been covered with blankets. It was only torture to look at the unwilling tattoos and scars that littered his body.
Ford fell wearily onto the couch, too tired to take off more than just his sweater and belt. He fell asleep quickly, a six-fingered hand resting near his head, the other on his stomach. He thought of his brother, of the kids. He thought of Waddles. It was almost a peaceful slumber before his brain began to crave chaos. Right before drifting into unconsciousness, Ford's mind played Bill's laughter on repeat. Over and over again. He feel asleep remembering what it felt like to be golden.
ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE UNIVERSE
Bill Cipher was making a deal.
The Therapism had a momentary lapse of security–Saturn had stopped munching on his son's head and turned to a guard's instead. But moments were all the dream demon needed.
"So, whaddya say? All I need is a ride. You won't even notice me," Bill's hand was outstretched. Ominous blue flames trickled up his arm from his palm. "Come on, kid. Tik-tok, make your choice!"
Unfortunately for the recently rehabilitated cherub, who thought his roommate Bill was a pretty cool guy, he decided to shake hands with the dream demon. Hands clasped, Bill couldn't stop the giddy, manic laughter. He nearly screamed with delight. Bill Cipher's form split into two, one real and one fake. The real happily (and literally) spun into the cherub's mind. He got cozy, snuggling in between a gray slab of brain matter. The fake spun off into the top of a bunk bed, placing its tophat on the side table and shutting its wee eye.
Things were just getting started.
Oh, it was good to be back!
Reincarnation is not as fun as Bill thought it might be. Frankly, he ought to have counted his lucky stars. For one, being snuggled up inside a Cherub's brain meant that the physical form of the fallen angel would relatively stay the same. However, just as Bill was getting excited about the prospect of multiple eyes (the cherub boasted nine) the pair were sent through a great wall of life-giving fire.
The fire was all the colors of the universe, and morphed the Cherub into a form that would teach him a new, Earthly lesson. In his former life, this particular Cherub shrugged off his duties of attending The Axolotl, choosing instead to rummage through people's personal lives. He liked to make quite a mess of it all, really. And thus, The Great Salamander had a plan for the little rebel.
The fire twisted the cherub's form, shrinking and growing it, molding it anew and shooting it down onto Earth on a shooting star.
If you or I saw this creature once it landed, we'd simply see a mildly tall human man with long, blonde hair. What we wouldn't see is the awful, persistent need to help others that resided within him. This would be its curse. The cherub was destined to be a guardian angel in this lifetime. Of course, because the whole process of reincarnation was rather automated these days, The Silly Salamander didn't quite catch the small nugget of yellow in its brain. This triangle whose entire life purpose was to spread agony and chaos.
In short, it was very conflicting to be that Cherub.
Fortunately for itself–Cherub wouldn't be around long to anguish over the dilemma.
"Well, well! Buddy, here we are!" A cruel voice spoke from the cherub's mouth. One of their eyes lit up yellow, the pupil slit like a cat.
"Now you'll get rid of this curse?" It's voice changed, hopeful. Hey, you can't blame it. Therapy shows you what you should be, but the implementation is the responsibility of the individual.
"Oh, sure. That's like, my whole thing. Definitely. And aren't you a lucky angel? We just so happen to be right where we need to be." Bill's voice responded. He didn't have a true physical form, not yet. He was trapped within the Cherub. "All you have to do is find my statue. That's where all the best curses are broken. They built it as a shrine to me, you know."
Bill Cipher, parasite, and his host, Cherub, had landed on the west coast of The United States of America. In truth, Cherub did count itself lucky to have a friend like Bill. It'd spent its time on Jufbnag (known to humans as Kepler-452b) and really didn't care for all this greenery and oxygen. He'd been more than happy to let his therapy roomie lead the way. All the way to a small, stone statue of Bill Cipher. Tucked away in a sleepy town called Gravity Falls.
Bill and the Cherub had a mighty time perusing through the towns. Combined forces, they went through bars, tattoo shops, and oftentimes knock-off magic trick shops. They hitchhiked through the freeways and non-discreetly stole clothing off people's laundry lines on the way. It'd been great fun for the pair, until they finally reached the statue.
It's useless to describe the scene in absolute detail. What's necessary to understand is that once they reached the stone Cipher, the Cherub suddenly had an awful feeling in its gut. But it was far too late.
Bill forced the Cherub's hand forward, grasping the stone limb and clenching tight. Bright, unearthly blue fire split from the Cherub's flesh, cracking and burning its left hand. It screamed out in pain, desperately trying to wrench its hand free. But Bill persisted.
Oh yes, he made good on his deal with the Cherub. He removed the curse. He removed the Cherub. Its soul was condemned to sit inside the stone statue till another unwilling fool shook its hand.
Laughing so loud it echoed and bounced off the trees, Bill spun rapidly, enjoying the feeling of possessing an entire body. The surrounding spruce tears seemed to shudder around him. The creatures of the forest fell silent.
"Ha! Hahahaha! Hahahaha!" His maniacal laughter tore out of his throat. Bill turned to face the statue and sneered. He lifted his leg into the air and knocked the statue to the ground. The leaves would cover it soon enough.
Bill Cipher turned and left the forest. Blood dripped from his burnt flesh. He knew exactly where to go next.
Axolotl help us all.