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Bill’s phone was ringing, and that was the first sign that something was wrong.
His cell phone- a gift from Pine Tree a few years before- was really only used when Dipper went out of town and wanted to check that Bill hadn’t burned down the house yet, or when Shooting Star wanted to talk to him. The only people who ever called him were in his contacts list, and all of them were part of the Pines family, with the single exception that was Hazel and Makona’s school.
But now an unknown number was calling, and the area code was the same one that showed for the rest of his contacts, so it wasn’t a telemarketer.
Hazel and Makona were doing a craft at the table, something that involved paper and glitter and beads that Pine Tree would probably hate him for allowing later, but they stilled as Bill’s phone started ringing with the default ring. He took the phone and swiftly exited the kitchen, strolling out to the living room before answering the call with a, “Yello’?”
There was a brief pause before a woman’s voice asked, “Is this Bill… Pines?”
He frowned. “Cipher.” After a moment, he tacked on, “... -Pines. Cipher-Pines.”
“Ah, Mr. Cipher.” The woman’s voice held a tone of sympathy, and Bill’s brow furrowed. “Your… husband? Dipper Pines. He’s been in a car accident.”
Bill didn’t correct her, didn’t mention that he and Pine Tree weren’t technically human-married. Instead, his hand tightened around the phone as his heart stopped in his chest. “Dipper’s hurt?” he yelped. “What happened? Is he okay? Where is he now? Is he-”
“Sir, sir, I’m going to need you to calm down,” the woman interrupted, probably thinking that her condescending tone was soothing. “We’ve called you because you were listed as Mr. Pines’ emergency contact. He’s in the emergency room.”
Bill’s breath caught in his throat. “What hospital?”
He wrote down the information on one of the many notepads Dipper left lying around (for when writing inspiration struck) and hung up the phone. By the time he was looking up from the paper clutched in shaking hands, Hazel and Makona were standing in the doorway.
“Is everything okay?” Makona asked. Both of them look worried.
“Where’s Papa?” Hazel tacked on. Her usual confidence didn’t show in her words.
Bill swallowed.
-----
The emergency room wasn’t as… frantic as Bill would have expected something with such a name to be. It was mostly full of people sitting around with various injuries and illnesses, most looking tired and annoyed and as if they’d been waiting for hours.
Hazel and Makona had both been loud and babbling for the entire way over, but they fell silent once inside. Bill was somewhat grateful. His own heart- damn this stupid meatsack- was beating like a rabbit’s.
Bill went straight for the counter, frantically asking for his partner.
He didn’t know how to do this. He wasn’t human.
The woman at the desk looked tired and bored, but she slowly turned her swivel chair to type Dipper’s information into the computer. “He was brought in an hour ago,” she told him, and Bill’s eyes narrowed. Why had it taken them so long to call him? “Looks like he’s being patched up right now.”
Hazel’s hand squeezed his tightly. Makona’s grip on his shirt didn’t waiver.
“So he’s okay?” Bill demanded, tired of skirting around the issue. He needed to see his human and ensure his safety. He could burn this establishment to the ground in a heartbeat, and his anger level was quickly approaching that possibility with how badly he wanted to see Pine Tree.
The receptionist gave him a forced-sympathetic smile. “Sorry, but I can’t divulge any information about the extent of his injuries just yet.”
Bill was seething, but he sat down in a waiting room chair as far away from the other stinking meatsacks as possible. Hazel sat down next to him, oddly silent, and Makona crawled onto his lap, looking like he was fighting not to cry. Bill wrapped one arm around his son while Hazel’s fingers found his hand again, grabbing it in a death grip.
“Dad, is Papa going to be okay?” the five-year-old asked, his voice quivering. Bill’s grip around him tightened.
“Papa’s not going to die, is he?” Hazel followed up. Her voice was audibly shaking, all of her usual rambunctuous exterior gone and replaced with worry.
Bill usually found the concept of death hilarious, loved that humans were so scared of it when it was inevitable for them. But he didn’t like that word being associated with his human in any way, unless it was in the sentence, I will bring death to anybody who touches Pine Tree.
“No,” he told them confidently, though he really had no idea how bad it was. If Pine Tree’s injuries were fatal they would have told them, right?
Right?
“Pine Tr- Papa’s going to be fine,” he continued. When both of his children just looked unsure and scared, he forced a smile.
“But-” Hazel started.
“Hey, Papa wouldn’t want you to be worried, would he?” Bill rationalized. Maybe if he could calm them down he could calm himself down.
Hazel frowned, then slowly answered, “No…”
Bill’s hand left hers so that he could ruffle her hair, which usually tugged a giggle or a glare out of her, depending on her mood. This time, it was neither, though her fearful expression did diminish slightly. “Don’t worry about it, Sapling.” He ruffled Makona’s hair as well, and the boy laughed. “Papa is a monster hunter. He’s dealt with much worse.” Hazel looked satisfied with this reasoning and nodded slowly. “Plus, he’s gotta deal with you two. I think he can handle anything at this point,” Bill joked, winking.
Hazel pouted with a glare. “Hey!”
Bill shrugged, grinning.
Makona wound his arms around Bill’s neck, resting his small forehead on the demon’s shoulder. “Dad,” he asked quietly, voice muffled by the fabric of Bill’s shirt, “Will you tell us a story?”
Bill was a little startled at the request, but quickly relaxed, an easy smile coming onto his face of its own accord. “Sure thing, Sapling. What do you want to hear about?”
“Ducks!” Hazel answered avidly, throwing her arms out with the cry and drawing glares from the receptionist and many of the other people waiting. She lowered her voice as her brow furrowed and she tacked on, “Wait, no. Skeletons.” After another moment, she amended, “Skeleton ducks.”
Bill chuckled at her enthusiasm, but got to work fabricating the best story of skeleton ducks he could when his heart still felt like it was going to leap out of his chest.
-----
He had the kids so emersed in the tail that it took him a second to notice when Pine Tree walked out into the waiting room twenty minutes later. His instincts that told him that his human was nearby kicked in instantly, though, and he quickly broke off his sentence and set Makona on the empty chair next to him so he could leap to his feat.
Dipper offered him a weak smile from a few feet away. He looked like shit, but Bill felt like he could breathe again at the sight that he was still in tact.
His forehead was wrapped in bandages, indicating that he’d taken a head wound but obviously not one too horrible if they were allowing him to leave. The rest of his face also must have been cut up, for smaller bandages and medical patches covered parts. He wasn’t wearing the flannel he’d left the house in, instead just wearing the shirt underneath, and his left arm was in a blue medical sling. From the way his arm was bent, Bill would be willing to bet that his shoulder had been dislocated.
Bill approached him quickly but was careful not to jolt his sling, instead letting one hand grip the human’s good arm while the other came up to card through his hair, fingers brushing over the medical tape.
“Pine Tree,” he breathed. Dipper’s eyes crinkled just slightly.
“You should see the other guy,” the man joked.
Bill only glared for a moment before he was being forced out of the way by two children who squealed and wrapped their arms around their father (luckily around his waist and not bothering the sling). Dipper looked a bit shocked at the development but relaxed after a second, eyes softening as he looked down at his kids and then up to his partner.
Bill was still shaking, overly relieved that his human was still okay. He didn’t expect Pine Tree to notice.
But of course Pine Tree did, with a frown and a quiet, “Are you alright?”
Bill wouldn’t admit it, not to Pine Tree or his kids or a room full of meatsacks, but he wasn’t.
“Of course,” he lied smoothly, throwing up a calm persona. “I’m probably going to rip the soul from whoever did this to you, but I’m perfectly fine.”
Dipper rolled his eyes. “It was an accident. It was raining. They didn’t mean to hit me.”
“Still,” Bill insisted.
Makona grabbed Bill’s hand, and when he looked down, he saw that the little boy had gripped Dipper’s as well. He looked up at the demon with wide brown eyes, flecked with spots of gold. “Dad, can we go get ice cream? For Papa?”
“Yeah, for Papa,” Hazel quickly agreed, looking back and forth between the two of them.
It was usually Bill who agreed to all of their whims, but this time it was Dipper who quickly answered, “Sure, Mako. We can go get ice cream.”
The kids cheered in unison and broke away from Dipper just enough to let Bill step forward again. He slid an arm around Dipper’s waist on his good side and raised an eyebrow, smiling.
“I think they’ve had enough worry for today,” Dipper explained, lips quirking up.
I think we all have, Bill thought, but instead he just nodded and pressed a quick kiss to his human’s lips.
They must have looked like the strangest group, huddled together in the waiting room of the ER with one of them in obvious bandaging. Plus, there were a million things for them to be worrying about, from the insurance to the car repairs.
But for now, they could relax and eat ice cream.