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Bill still didn't have many ways to spend his time after work. He told himself he didn't mind it, really - Theraprism had filled his time with doctor after doctor, monitored his "hobbies", his usage of materials, with every single one turning out to be therapy in disguise. Just more points with which to analyse him and his behaviour, to tear down his walls, find his misery and his defects - all to break him into shards, then drive them into his guts and warp him into their desired shape. He was used to doing nothing in the downtime, used to not minding the silence, the hallucinations that sprouted from his own deprivations.
...That all said, he did mind it. He minded it very much, actually, that he spent most of his time after work just sitting in his little room, occasionally drawing, and not much else, that he wasn't too far off from hallucinating some days. True, Mabel had taught him the first steps of crochet, but without much idea of what to make... it seemed kind of pointless to just make another square. And... maybe he kind of wanted to do it with her, if Stan and Ford would allow it. It had been for her sake, so that she might feel safe with him around, but... maybe he needed it just as much, to see her for what she really was. Not that he would ever admit it that way.
When Ford had asked him, then, to help him look for a mushroom specimen in the woods... He didn't know what to feel, but he agreed. In a best case scenario, maybe he'd get to say some things to Ford, apologise-- Ridiculous. That was... a silly thought. He had everything to apologise for, he was extremely well aware, but what was he really expecting Ford to do if he said it? He shoved the thought from his mind, each one equipping themselves with a basket and flashlight and setting off.
As soon as they left the front door, Ford started explaining. "Now, the mushrooms we're looking for should be fairly easy to find, if we're looking close to the ground. And two eyes are better than one, correct?" He went on, explaining the typical colouration, when they tended to spring up and the trees they hosted beneath, the pored rather than gilled underside, when Bill narrowed his eye.
"Wait, wait, wait," he asked, "Are we out here foraging so you can have a snack?"
Flustering, Ford cleared his throat, "With a bit of oil and salt, yes, these early summer boletes roast up pretty well."
"You've never changed, huh."
"Need I remind you, Bill, I had to do a lot of scrounging for thirty years, and I had an interest even before then. Old habits die hard - and besides, it's rewarding, isn't it?"
"I guess," he huffed and rolled his eye, though he felt uneasy triggering the reminder in Ford. If nothing else, he supposed this would be good practise for his stretching muscles.
The hunt was going alright, all things considered - the pouring rain yesterday had brought a variety of mushrooms to fruit, though the boletes were really the only ones Ford cared about. What a shame, Bill thought. Ford had a few in his basket, and even Bill had managed to pick up one that Ford missed entirely. Even so, some of the ones they came across had clearly already been animal food - they sure were a popular pick.
"Hold on," Bill called out, "I got another one here." He reached out for it, gripping as tightly as he could. Yet it was stubborn, refusing to budge. He groaned, annoyed, and tried pulling harder. He even then, gently, stretched his arm as far as it could go right now without straining, and tried to use the extra length for leverage. He grunted, pulling as hard as he could, his feet pathetically sliding across the ground - until it suddenly came free, sending him flying backwards.
He groaned even louder, huffing with frustration. At least he had it now. He grabbed the mushroom, pushing himself back up to his feet and plopping it in. But Ford was nowhere to be seen. "Stanford?" he called out, eye flicking from side to side. He really couldn't see Ford anywhere... He followed what he thought might be Ford's boot prints, but the unhelpful divots came to a stop. "Hey- Stanford, you lost me!" He heard a groaning, then, and sighed with relief. He followed it to its source confidently, awkwardly laughing, "Oh, Stanford, you really scared me there--"
The figure laid down in the grass was not, in fact, Stanford Pines. No, it was Dipper Pines. When did he get out here? Did he follow them, like he didn't trust Ford to keep an eye on him?! He hissed, "Ugh, Pine Tree." But the boy didn't respond. He inched closer, asking, "Pine Tree?"
Dipper groaned again, shakily pushing himself up and rubbing his head. "Ugh... where am I?" Bill froze, eye narrowed, but he made no effort to answer. Not just yet. "What... what is this thing?" he asked himself slowly, reaching a hand towards Bill.
"Get any closer and I will bite your finger off, Pine Tree," he scoffed, "Stop playing games."
Dipper jolted back and shouted in surprise, stammering out, "O-okay, the weird triangle thing is talking. Okay, calm down, calm down..." he clutched at his head, failing to find a name with which to calm himself down, "Who... who am I?"
Bill's blood ran cold, then. He stared at Dipper, wide-eyed and afraid. Somehow- somehow Dipper had ended up out here, right... and then hit his head? He didn't seem to have any external injury, but that didn't mean there wasn't one inside...
"W-w-who am I?" he asked himself, starting to panic, "Where's- where's mom? Dad? Why, why am I out here- where is- oh, oh no, I-" Dipper was hyperventilating at this point, Bill still trying to register the whole situation. He recalled a memory of his own, then-
"Mommy? Daddy?" the little triangle called out. He didn't know how he'd gotten lost so close to the Midpoint, but he had. Calling out was the only thing he knew how to do, as he shook with tears, waiting for them to come back. "Mommy! Daddy...!" Left all alone in a place he didn't understand, he sat himself down, letting the tears take over.
"You..." Bill started, "Your name is... well, it's Mason Pines," he felt himself almost cringe actually using the kid's name, "but everyone calls you Dipper."
"H-how do you know that?" Dipper asked, "Who- who are you, you... triangle? How- what are you?"
"Hey- easy, lotta questions there, kid," Bill answered, "L-look, let's just say I... know you. Okay? You're Dipper Pines. You're in Gravity Falls, Oregon. I don't know how you got out here in the woods, but you are."
"That-" Dipper started, still breathing fast and hard, "That doesn't answer anything about you."
"...The name's Bill. Bill Cipher."
"Bill..." Dipper said, repeating the name like it'd bring some kind of clarity to his clearly broken mind. "Bill, Bill, Bill... I feel like..." he hissed in pain, clutching at his head again with a groan.
In answer, Bill sighed, closing his eye. "I hurt you pretty bad, last summer."
"You- you hurt me?" Dipper asked, "Then why should I trust a-anything you're saying? F-for all I know, all of this... everything you just said was a lie... and- and-" he winced, another burst of pain having shot through his head.
He had to admit, Dipper had a point about that. Even if he didn't remember any of it, Bill still knew the way he had treated him - the kid was gullible, an easy mark, a great puppet if not for his sister interfering. But now here he was in front of him, nothing more than a scared kid looking for his parents. "I'm trying... to do better things, now," he hoped that would appease him, "I can help you. I'm looking for someone, myself, your Great Uncle Stanford."
"Great Uncle...?" Dipper asked warily.
"Yep," Bill answered, "Stanford'll know what to do, I'm sure... Real brainiac, that guy. Wrote the journals?"
"Stanford... Journals..." Dipper scratched at his head, "I- I don't know... How- how can I trust you're not lying? You just told me you hurt me..."
"Okay, look," Bill said, trying to calm him, "If I still wanted to hurt you, why would I tell you I'd done it before?"
"Could just be hoping that, that I'll trust you, and then you'll strike when my guard's down, and, and then--"
Bill clapped his hands together, "Okay, let's put it this way. Maybe I'm going to hurt you, so you want to stay right here. But- you don't even know where you are. If you try and get out of here alone, you'll probably get even more lost, and then you'll definitely get hurt," Dipper scoffed in disbelief at that, leading Bill to continue, "Sorry kid, but it's true. And no one else knows you're out here but me right now, so if I don't take you with me, we'll lose each other. By that point, even if I find Stanford and get back to exactly this point, you might be gone. Then what?"
"I still don't know..."
"C-come on," Bill sighed, getting a little frustrated. "Just take my hand. We'll find Stanford, and then we'll figure this out." He stretched his hand up as far as he could reach with his still-weakened muscles. Finally, Dipper sighed, slightly hunching over to take Bill's hand.
"Fine."
Ford was always eager to explore these woods, even in his most mundane of searches. Thirty years away, forced to explore stranger and stranger worlds, had taught him that the Earth he lived on was glorious, to treasure even the simplest things he'd always taken for granted. Good, clean water, food that sprouted from seemingly nothing, people to lean on. His family.
And something had told him, tonight, that Bill should join him. Some part of him had wanted to deny it, but it lost out to the desire of simply getting to learn about Bill as he was now. He was the same, and yet ever different. They chatted about the very boletes they were hunting down now, about the kinds of things Bill had eaten while in Theraprism, dare he say they bonded over the same disgusting Frorque berries they'd been subjected to, so many years apart.
There were silences too, of course. Making sure nothing had its eye on them - they only had about two hours of sunlight left. A little late, but it had been hard to justify going out before dinner when the search might end up so long. The silences filled themselves with a strange comfort, just two sets of footsteps padding along.
Until Ford noticed the second set was gone. "Bill?" he asked, "Where did you go?" He took a deep breath, trying to backtrack. Something clouded his mind, and it hit him with a bolt of panic. He mumbled and muttered, trying to navigate his way through the trees, pushing and squeezing in the gaps between them-
He popped out onto the road, cursing himself and diving back in. "Okay, Stanford..." he told himself, "It's Bill. He can handle himself. He knows this place just as well as you, if not even better these days." Popped out again, like he'd been turned around in the midst of his searching. Hissed, turned right back in. "He's- no... no, he's not really strong right now, is he? Well, he's- he's small... He..."
He shouted out in frustration as he, once again, popped out of the trees - this time near the Shack. It didn't make any sense - surely by now he should have found Bill, unless... Unless something was derailing him on purpose. If that was the case, he might never find Bill, not until it had chosen to release him itself. Defeated, he headed into the Shack, leaving down his spoils and pondering what to do.
"Ford," Stan pulled him from his thoughts, "We can't find Dipper."
Bill was getting hungry, and he could tell Dipper was as well, with a telltale rumble. Just how long were they out here for? He turned his eye to the sky - there was still sunlight, but it was fading. "Take the flashlight," he said to Dipper, holding up his basket higher for him to reach it. "Don't turn it on unless I say so. Don't wanna alert any critters we don't have to."
"Critters?" Dipper asked, nervous. It was strange beyond belief to see him like this, still - just a kid like any other.
"Yeah. All sorts of things live out here in Gravity Falls," Bill chuckled, "But--"
A distant noise caught Bill's attention, and he hushed Dipper, stopping them in their tracks. He listened out again - it sounded almost like a shout? Or... Or a call! Another voice joined the fray, and he sighed with relief.
"I think that's our ticket outta here. Come on, carefully!" Bill urged him, taking the lead towards the voices.
"Bill!"
"Dipper!"
"You hear that?" Bill asked, Dipper answering with a quiet uh-huh. "Your Great Uncles are calling us!" Their feet carried them further and further out of the woods, Bill asking Dipper to turn on the flashlight so they projected a clear sign - one that didn't involve them wasting their running breath, anyways. As they grew closer, their light starting to peek through, Ford and Stan's shouts seemed to grow louder and louder.
A kind rhombus had settled down beside the little Bill, asking him who his parents were. "Mommy... Mommy's blue..." he sniffled, "Daddy's red..." The rhombus patted his face gently, reassuring him that his parents would find them. All they had to do was stay right where they were - "Otherwise," she said, "you, Mommy, and Daddy might all walk circles around each other. Then none of you would find each other, and that'd be even scarier."
They burst through the trees, then, Dipper panting to catch his breath before doubling over in pain, another shot running through his head. Both the men rushed to his side, comforting him, asking him questions he didn't have the answers to.
"Bill, what on Earth happened?" Ford demanded.
"One- moment..." he huffed, "I-I got separated from you. I tried following where I thought you went... instead I found Di--" he 'corrected' himself, "Pine Tree, and he... He didn't know who I was. Who you were, who he was. I didn't see any visible head injury, or anything at all, really... So I. Well, I..."
"...You helped him get out," Ford said.
"I-I wouldn't... call it helped," Bill insisted, earning a scoff from Stan.
"Course you wouldn't. You did this to him, didn't you?"
"Wh-what?!" Bill huffed, "I didn't! I don't have any way to, even if I wanted!"
"You little," Stan hissed, but cut short and shook his head at himself, muttering. "Not the time, Stan, not the time. Give the triangle a walloping after Dipper's safe."
Dipper sniffled, suddenly, wincing with pain again. He glanced up at his Great Uncles, weakly asking, "Grunkle Stan... Grunkle Ford?" He rubbed at his face, "What happened...?" Ford took the reins on explaining, then, what Bill had just recounted. Dipper looked over his shoulder at Bill - confused, disgusted, entirely unsure of what to think? Bill couldn't really tell. "You?" he asked, "Am I having a fever dream? Please tell me I'm having a fever dream."
"I sure wish you were, Pine Tree."
Stan cut through the chatter, drawing Dipper's attention back to him, "Why were you out here in the first place?"
"I..." he closed his eyes, trying to scrounge something up, "I don't... know. I think... I think I told Mabel I was going somewhere... but that's all I remember. The only other thing I've got i-is this... black, starry void."
Approaching Ford's side, Bill asked cautiously, "Did something possess you?"
He shuddered, "Oh god, I hope not... but it was weird, it- I don't know if it felt like I really said that. Maybe..." he looked sick just thinking about it.
Ford took a deep breath, "Okay. Okay, we'll see what we can figure out later. For now, we should get back inside - the important part is that you're safe."
"But- but for how long?" Dipper asked as Stan and Ford helped him to his feet, "What if- what if that happens again? What if no one's there next time?"
"Easy, Dipper..." Stan said gently, taking a deep breath in and out for him to follow. "We'll make sure it doesn't. Isn't that right, Bill?"
Bill huffed, but said nothing. He just carried his basket of mushrooms into the house silently, abandoning it outside his door and hiding in his room as the men checked Dipper over.
The rhombus, to cheer Bill up, started singing a song. Clap. Clap. Clap, clap, clap. A steady beat, one he could follow easily. He followed the words as best he could, with each tami, noli, da-li-na driving the tears away. Then, somewhere closeby, he heard his mother's voice calling out for him. Before the rhombus could stop him, he bounced to his feet, toddling in her direction. "Mommy! Mommy!"
"Oh, Billy!" she sighed with relief, running over to him and embracing him in a hug, "Dear, he's been here this whole time! Oh, I'm so sorry, Billy... And who's... this?" she asked of the rhombus. The rhombus chuckled awkwardly, "S-sorry, I know it's... unconventional. But I did what was right, didn't I?" Bill's mother, apprehensive, said, "Yes, I suppose you did. Come on now, Billy! Let's keep going."
Bill flicked his eye back to the rhombus, reaching out his hand toward her. Did he really have to be done playing...? The last he saw of her, then, was a polite wave and her turning away.
"Tami, noli, dalina..."