Chapter Text
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I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations that propagates fire.
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On the morning of the Mystery Twins’ departure for their fifth summer in Gravity Falls, Oregon, Dipper woke with a start from one of the strange dreams he had been having for weeks now. These weren't quite nightmares… oftentimes, he took a sick, stomach-churning pleasure from them. But they were dark and whirling, monstrous by any reasonable person’s standards. Something about them smacked of Bill Cipher, although he had yet to actually see the triangular demon in any of them. And he couldn't exactly interrogate Bill about them until he was back in Gravity Falls, now, could he? After the event that th town dubbed Weirdmaggedon and immediately agreed never to speak of again, Grunkle Ford had bound the demon physically within the confines of Gravity Falls. Ford could not, however, limit a dream demon’s reach upon the plane of dreams. So Dipper speculated aimlessly, with no way to know the truth until he could personally shake the answer out of Bill.
The previous night's dream had already begun to fade by the time Dipper opened his eyes. Still, he held on to scraps of it, visions of blood and teeth, sensations of cool fingertips running across his skin, claws scraping at his shoulders. These things didn't scare him, only left his stomach roiling and a guilty heat pooling in his groin. There was enough wrong with him already, wasn't there? Why couldn’t he want normal things, the things other guys his age wanted? He had wanted Wendy once, or he'd thought so, but it could easily have been a reflection of some desire floating just below the surface of his conscious mind to be a normal person, a cis person, happy with being a girl. All of his crushes since had been fleeting, confusing, on people who'd barely been aware of his existence at best and who'd found him disdainful and disgusting at worst.
The objects of his dreams couldn't have any feelings for him, or for anything. They weren't real. They may have left confused and disturbed, but at least they were safe, right? Right.
He lay in bed like this, alternately rationalizing his dreams and desires and scolding himself for them, until Mabel's alarm tone sounded. (The alarm happened to be a recording of a choir singing in meows that Mabel had recently become obsessed with.) Ever a morning person (as well as a night and every other time of day person) she popped out of bed like a bullet from a gun and descended immediately on Dipper in his bed.
"Bro-bro, get up! Getupgetupgetupgetup!"
"No, Mabel, don't-"
She flung herself across his bed, and him. Dipper groaned and gave her a half-hearted push. She twisted to smile at him. "Are you up, Dippindot?"
"I've been up, Mabel. For, like, hours."
"What, really? Was I singing in my sleep again?"
"No, I just - I had a bad dream."
"Oh. You wanna talk about it?"
"Not really." He sighed. "I think I'd rather just forget about it."
Mabel laughed. "I can help with that!" She started clambering off of him, tugging him up after her by the arm. "Come on, let's double-check your bags. Maybe you won't forget anything this year!"
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It wasn't to be - he forgot his toothbrush, and didn't realize it until late that night. Although they’d had lunch with the Stans when they arrived, Mabel was soon dragged off by a squealing Candy and Grenda to Northwest Mansion, where Pacifica, they assured her, was suffering through a garden party (a party which she was prepared to ditch at a moment's notice). Robbie and company showed up soon after Mabel left, piled into Robbie's beat up car and hooting until Dipper emerged from the Mystery Shack (having heard Stan's shouted complaints rather than the actual voices of his friends).
Wendy's absence was a disappointment, no doubt, and it showed on his face if Robbie's sharp laughter after breaking the news was anything to go by. Still, it was probably for the best. It would be his first summer there without her to give him those same old conflicted feelings.. And although he wasn't as close to Robbie or the others, he had fun with them, and he came home late that night tired but happy.
Mabel must have been staying the night at Northwest Mansion, for she was nowhere to be found. Soos was long gone, and both Stans were asleep - Stan in the living room chair and Ford in Stan's bed. Dipper meant to follow their lead, brush his teeth and crawl into bed, but when he went upstairs to do so, he realized what he'd forgotten this morning, swearing.
He rummaged through the bathroom cabinets with little expectation of finding a clean toothbrush. Stan wasn't the type to buy necessities such as these in the first place, really, let alone extras .
Maybe skipping brushing for one night wouldn't have affected his habit. Maybe. But his other habits - washing his face, using his acne cream - tended to dissolve when he skipped them even once. He didn't want to have to go through the trouble of retraining his brain into this particular habit, so he slid on his sneakers and slipped out the door.
The early summer air in Gravity Falls smelled sweet and familiar to Dipper as he walked down the road. The moon was bright that night, and he didn't bother to turn on his flashlight. Whatever danger might threaten him here would need no light to do so. Still, he hardly even considered the possibility of harm coming to him. The night seemed too tranquil for such things - except for one moment, when he heard a piercing, shudder-inducing animal howl in the distance, unlike anything he had heard before - but it cut off as quick as it had begun and he was left again in the quiet.
He'd made it about a mile down the road, halfway to the 24-hour gas station, when one of those dangers began speaking in his ear.
"Where ya headed this late at night, Pine Tree?" asked the familiar voice. Dipper looked right, then left, finding Bill Cipher floating there at eye level and glowing in the moonlight.
"The gas station," said Dipper, voice slow and suspicious. "What do you want, Bill?"
Bill laughed his unearthly, ringing laugh. "Why do you always assumed that I want something from you, Pine Tree? Maybe I only want to talk!"
Dipper raised an eyebrow. "Do you only want to talk?"
"Weeeell," Bill began, only to be cut off by Dipper.
"Thanks for proving my point, Bill. You can go away, now." He picked up his pace, which predictably did nothing whatsoever to deter the demon.
"Oh, come on, Pine Tree, let me help you out."
Before he even opened his mouth to reply, Dipper felt something pop into existence in his hand. He looked from the toothbrush to Bill, eyes narrowing. "Did you just steal this from the gas station?"
Bill huffed and crossed his little arms, flashing briefly red in irritation. "Rearranging matter is much easier than stealing a toothbrush."
Dipper huffed. "What do you want for it? I'm not gonna sell my soul for a fucking toothbrush."
"I don't want your soul," said Bill. "At least - not today! I want you to meet me tomorrow at midday in the clearing that's half a mile north of the Mystery Shack. You know it?"
"Yeah... what would I have to do there?"
"Nothing. All you have to do is meet me there."
"And you're going to, what? Try to possess me again? Kidnap me?"
"Nothing that bad."
"But something bad."
For the first time in Dipper's memory, Bill seemed actually to think about his answer, the words coming out of him slowly and carefully. "I... hope... that you won't think it's bad. You can leave if you do, Pine Tree."
Dipper closed his eyes and sighed. "Alright, Bill, I'll," he opened his eyes and shuddered upon finding himself back in the bathroom at the Shack, toothbrush still clutched in his fist. "See you tomorrow," he finished, reaching for the toothpaste.
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The next day - a Sunday - dawned bright and warm on Gravity Falls. Dipper, for one, refused to let it dawn at all on him. When the sunlight streamed through the window to shine on his face, he groaned, pulled his blanket over his eyes, and went back to sleep. By the time he finally slithered out of bed he found that it was a quarter till 12, precariously close to midday. He hurried into his clothes, tugging at the hem of his binder as he scrambled out the back door, shouting a hasty excuse to Ford at the kitchen table. (The Grunkle in question had long since grown used to this sort of thing and didn't even look up from his book.)
He ran through the woods, narrowly avoiding tripping on a root at least twice, and he stumbled into the clearing just as the clock on his phone turned to 12:01. Without it in his hand he had no way of knowing that, so he only clutched his stomach and stood wordlessly at the edge of the clearing panting, boggling at the sight spread out before him. On a red checkered blanket in the middle of the bright open space a picnic had been set out - sandwiches and grapes, slices of apple and orange cubes of cheese, a teapot beside a sugar bowl and a tiny pitcher of cream, and a cake with golden frosting. In the middle of it all sat Bill, his legs folded beneath him and a steaming cup of tea clutched in his miniscule hands. He set down the cup and jumped into the air upon Dipper's arrival. Did he - could Bill be nervous? "Hey, Pine Tree, you made it!"
"Y...yeah," said Dipper, "I'm not late, am I?" It wouldn't do for him to break their agreement, not with the way that Bill treated such breaches. But Bill, unperturbed, shook his whole body in the negative..
"Midday is a wide time range, Pine Tree. You didn't have to come at noon exactly."
Dipper eyed the food laid out on the forest floor. "But you wanted me to," he said.
"Well," said Bill. "Well."
"Bill, what is is this?"
"It's a picnic," said Bill with visible relief. The entire situation was becoming more and more suspicious by the second. "It's a human thing! I checked."
"Yeah, I know it’s a human thing," said Dipper, "usually. But it's not human if you made it. What are you trying to pull? Is this some kind of faerie curse thing, where I eat the food and you steal me away for a hundred years? Are you trying to poison me?"
Bill blinked his eye, staring at Dipper for a long moment before looking away, body flashing melancholy blue for a fraction of a second, and sinking slowly to the ground. "Like I said, Pine Tree," he said as he picked up his teacup and stared into it, "you can leave if you want to."
Dipper took a moment to run through every piece of lore and myth and legend he knew, wracking his brain for anything like this - a demon inviting someone to a fucking picnic - and when the thought jumped unbidden to his mind, he couldn't help but give voice to it. "Bill. Is this a date? ”
Bill's entire body turned pink, and stayed that way. Dipper gaped. "Holy shit," he said. "Holy shit."
"Look, Pine Tree, will you stay or not? Well?" Bill demanded, flashing red.
"I-" Would he stay? Did he want to stay, to have a date with Bill Cipher, of all people, who had tried to kill him on 3 separate occasions and tried to maim him on at least 7? There would be some measure of forgiveness implied in doing so, wouldn’t there? It was true that Bill had been less antagonistic towards him and Mabel during the summer before, having perhaps finally accepted the fact that he was stuck in Gravity Falls for the indefinite future, and there were the dreams, of course. He badly wanted an explanation for them, and - his stomach rumbled loudly. He had yet to eat today, anyway, so... "I guess I'll stay," he said, walking past the treeline and plopping down beside Bill. The demon immediately set about making Dipper his own cup of tea, albeit in a cup much larger than his own tiny one. "I thought you hated me," he blurted out when Bill offered him the cup.
For his part, Bill didn't waver. "Of course, I don't hate you, Pine Tree! You're too much fun! Besides," he sipped at his tea with a mouth that wasn't there, "if I hated you, you'd be long dead."
"You hate Grunkle Ford and you haven't killed *him.*" Dipper curled his fingers around the cup and brought it up to his face. It smelled as though Bill had packed a meadow full of flowers into it.
"Sixer? What makes you think I hate Sixer?"
"Well, you turned him into solid gold to keep him as a trophy, and then he bound you to Gravity Falls forever.”
"I don't think I'll be here forever, Pine Tree. Sixer doesn't know that kind of magic. But no," he continued, and Dipper could hear the grin in his voice even though he had no mouth with which to grin, "I don't hate Sixer either. He's fun, too... but don’t worry, you're even more fun than he is."
What a strange thing it was to be leered at by a pyramid.
"So, uh, so what kind of sandwiches are these?"
"You haven't tried your tea yet," replied Bill. "Why don't you try it first? Then I'll tell you."
A beat of silence. "You swear there isn't anything magical in this?"
"Pine Tree, I told you I wouldn't poison you-"
"It's not poison that I'm worried about-"
"Then what -"
"I don't know, if you can make poison, maybe you can make some kind of - of magical love potion-"
"Love potion?" Bill cackled. "Pine Tree, what do I need a love potion for? You're already obsessed with me!"
Being laughed at was so much worse, so much more embarrassing and shameful, than being leered at - a blush swept over Dipper's face, and he flung down his cup, too upset even to notice when it splashed burning hot on his skin. "You're wrong about that," he lied, vaulting up and stomping out of the clearing, ignoring the cries of "Wait - Pine Tree, wait - Dipper!"
△△△/p>
When Dipper returned to the Shack, just half an hour after his departure, Ford still sat at the kitchen table, now with a forgotten bowl of cereal that had gone soggy. This time he did look up, hearing the back door slam open and Dipper sniffling. "Dipper? What's going on? What's wrong?"
"I don't - it's not - I don't wanna talk about it. I really, really don't wanna talk about it.” He wiped the tears from his eyes. "When Mabel gets back, will you tell her I'm upstairs?"
"Of course, Dipper, but-"
"Please," Dipper begged, stifling the sob that threatened to leap up out of him. "Just leave me alone." He shrugged off the hand that Ford had laid on his shoulder and hurried away. Each stair up to the attic was a mountain to be climbed, and by the time he reached the top it was as though he’d been awake for a thousand years - he crawled into bed fully clothed and fell into a deep, fitful sleep. By the time Mabel returned hours later, he had woken up, and lay in bed thumbing listlessly through a book on cryptozoology. The door burst open and he started upright.
"Dipper! Grunkle Ford says you came home crying‽"
"Yeah," Dipper sighed, sinking back down onto the bed. "I did."
"What happened? "
He told her.
"Oh, bro-bro," said Mabel with a sigh. "You are obsessed with Bill."
Dipper groaned and pulled a pillow over his head. "I know, Mabel, of course I know. But I don't want Bill to know that."
"He's known for years by now-"
"I know, I know, but - but I'm not - I mean, I don't-"
"You don't...?"
"I don't want to date him! He's tried to kill us on three different occasions! I should hate him!"
Mabel tilted her head and asked him quiet and gentle, "Do you hate him?" She pulled the pillow away from his face so she could see his expression - his cheeks were a ruddy pink streaked with tears. "Do you?"
"I don't know," he said, and flung an arm over his eyes in place of the pillow. "I just don't know."
"You know Bill is obsessed with you, too," said Mabel. She squeezed his arm. "And not in a hate-y kind of way."
“He's insane. Maybe he thinks dating someone you hate is totally reasonable."
"I don't know, Dipper, I think being stuck in Gravity Falls with humans is giving him feelings. Good feelings. Maybe even love feelings."
"Nope," said Dipper. "Nope, nope, no, we're not even considering that as a possibility, this conversation is over. Talk to me about something else. Talk to me about Pacifica, even."
Unseen by him, Mabel rolled her eyes and said, "Okay, Dipper, avoid your problems. But remember, you asked for it. So! Pacifica and I-"
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