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Chapter Text

The lush green forest was peaceful and quiet. The leaves swished in the wind, and birds hopped on the branches, twittering happily. The sunlight poured onto the forest floor, making fallen leaves shimmer and glow. Nothing except the occasional squirrel disturbed the serene silence. Everything was peaceful.

Until a golf cart came barreling through the silence, tires squealing as they skidded along the ground. The cart was moving faster than it legally should, and anyone who saw it would be wondering why the two kids inside were driving it so fast. 

The kid driving the cart was a boy wearing a red shirt with a sleeveless blue jacket. His green cap flapped up and down in the wind created by the cart, but it somehow managed to stay on his head. Beside him, clutching the seat tightly with a look of pure terror, was a girl with braces wearing a purple sweater... in summer. Both kids had the same brown hair and eyes, and they were both yelling for their lives. They were heading straight for a giant sign, hoping desperately that they would drive straight through it. Behind them, rising through the trees like Godzilla, was an imposing dark figure that cast a giant shadow over the cart. It stomped through the trees like they were made of smoke. It roared loudly, and the trees shook as if they were terrified and not because of the sound. 

The boy tried to press harder on the gas; anything to go faster. Fear and panic were rushing through him as the thought of the giant creature crushing him consumed his brain. He had to remain calm, though. The cart zoomed through the woods as the boy steered towards where he and his sister were staying.  The giant amalgamation pounded after them, not breaking the chase. The kids flung themselves off the cart and turned to face the giant monster as it loomed over them...

___

"Now, you might be wondering how the heck two children ended up in such a puzzling conundrum. It's not everyday you see children running from a giant monster that looked like it could be from a TV show. But these were not ordinary children. They were Dipper and Mabel Pines, who attract trouble like a magnet. 

"It all started when their parents decided that fresh air would do them some good and sent them off to a strange town called Gravity Falls in nowhere Oregon. Weird name, I know. I mean, how can gravity fall when it's always dragging things down? It's so stupid! I love it! 

"Anyway, back to the point. The twins were sent off to stay with their great-uncle Stanford, who isn't actually Stanford. His real name is Stanley, but you probably already knew that. He lives in a tourist trap called the Mystery Shack, which profits well off the stupidity of Gravity Falls' townsfolk. 

"Normally, the interesting stuff would happen after the twins arrive at the Mystery Shack, but in this case, it happens shortly after they pass the welcome sign. 

"It all started when I found myself surrounded by bookshelves. At first I was confused; mere moments ago I had been having my fun tormenting people. I opened a few books and immediately knew something was wrong when I saw the contents. I put the book back into its place and went further into the library, realizing where I was. There was no mistaking the dull grayscale of the mindscape. 

"And that's when I finally remembered. The fire, the fear, the slam of a fist into my eye...

"The memories were infuriating. How could they do this to me? I was so angry I started screaming. 

"And screaming. 

"And screaming some more. 

"Hey, it's a good way to get anger out. I felt a lot better once I was done. It had some interesting consequences, though..."

___

Dipper stared out the window of the bus, chin on his hand as he watched the scenery fly by. Lines of trees passed by, blurring into a single green blob. Occasionally he would see a wild animal, but they would disappear in seconds. Beside him, Mabel jumped up and down in her seat excitedly, squeezing the seat she was sitting on. If it were alive, it would have suffocated ages ago. She would sometimes glance out the window, too, though she was mostly preoccupied in playing silly bus games like "I Spy". 

A sign suddenly came into view, the sign Dipper had been waiting to see for the past two hours. He nudged Mabel and pointed at the sign. 

"Finally! We're almost there," he said, relieved and anxious to get off the bus. His legs had fallen asleep ages ago. 

Mabel wiggled enthusiastically in delight. "Yes! I can't wait to meet Stan!" 

Dipper smiled slightly as the bus passed the sign. As much as he dreaded what the summer would be like, he was glad he had Mabel. She made the dullest of days seem bright. 

The bus trundled loudly down the road past the sign; nothing of interest showed between the never ending rows of trees. Dipper leaned back in his seat and tried to rub some feeling back into his legs. He wanted to be able to walk by the time they arrived at Gravity Falls. Mabel was looking under her bus seat for random stuff; Dipper tried to not show his disgust as she proudly held up a chewed wad of gum. He wondered what their uncle would think of them. Would he hate them? He couldn't really remember what Stan was like, and his nervousness grew. To add to his concerns and fears, a pressure began to build up in his head. It was only a small headache, nothing too bad. Then it started getting worse. By the time the bus stopped at the town, Dipper's head was pounding, and he struggled to get out of the seat as his head spun. 

Mabel helped him steady himself as they walked off the bus. Brow creased in concern, she asked, "Are you okay, bro?"

Dipper winced as sharp sunlight pierced his eyes. "I'm fine," he muttered. "Just a headache."

"You almost fell down the stairs," Mabel said, giving the bus stairs a glare. She would never forgive them. "Headaches don't make people that dizzy."

Dipper leaned against his luggage, unsure how to respond. His head felt like it was going to split open any second, and it was hard to focus on what his sister was saying as she continued to speak. Whatever it was must have been important because she suddenly grabbed his arm and forced him to move. He winced and rubbed his forehead; why was it aching so badly? 

"Woah, kid, you doing alright?" said a gruff voice. Dipper looked up and saw an old man- probably Stan- wearing a suit and a red fez looking at him with worry in his eyes. "You're not sick, are you?"

Was he? Dipper shrugged and winced; any movement was making his head hurt. 

Stan looked unconvinced by the shrug but didn't push the matter. Instead, he picked up the kids' luggage and carried it to the trunk. "Get in the car, kids. You're going to be seeing the most mysterious place on Earth: the Mys-"

Dipper groaned in pain and leaned against Mabel, unable to take the worsening headache. He felt like someone was drilling a hole into his head. Stan stopped speaking and quickly ordered Mabel to help Dipper into the car. The pain was so bad he could barely understand what they were saying. He vaguely registered when the car began to move, but all his other senses were distorted from pain. Strangely enough, he could faintly hear someone screaming. It was too distant to sound real, though, and he wondered if he was hallucinating from pain. Was he asleep or awake? He didn't really know. Arms wrapped around him and lifted him up. The car had stopped. Dipper gritted his teeth as a sharp wave of pain attacked him. 

More voices sounded around him. A creak of wood. Whoever was carrying him lowered him down, and he felt blankets underneath him. They weren't the softest ones in the world, but they were comforting enough for him. He pressed the heels of his palms against his forehead; the very faint screaming he thought he was hallucinating was slightly louder now. Who was screaming? 

Wood creaked as someone walked across the floor. The room was silent. Dipper took off his hat as if that would make the pain go away. It remained, a constant piercing throb in his mind. 

Eventually he managed to slip into some sort of doze. He wasn't really asleep, but he wasn't truly awake. Days seemed to slip by as he lay there, suffering, on the bed. The pain slowly started to fade away during the night. When he finally opened his eyes, morning sunlight was streaming in through a triangular shaped window. He sat up, blinking to get moisture out of his eyes. They must have teared up while he was in pain. He looked around, taking in his surroundings. 

The room he was in seemed to be an attic. The ceiling sloped in the way the roof outside did, and there were a few cobwebs hanging from the beams holding up the ceiling. Across the room was another bed; Mabel's bright suitcase rested on top of it. Dipper laid back down, exhaustion overtaking him. His head still hurt a little, and his stomach churned uncomfortably. 

The door opened, and Mabel walked in holding a tray. A relieved smile crossed her face when she saw that Dipper's eyes were open. She placed the tray on her bed and sat next to his legs, crossing her own. 

"Are you feeling better?" she asked, poking his leg. 

"Kind of," Dipper replied. The pillow under his head was fluffy; it made him even more tired. "I wish I knew what made my head hurt." 

"Stan and I made you breakfast," Mabel said, pointing at the tray. A plate of pancakes rested beside a large glass of water. "Fair warning: there might be a little bit of Stan's hair in it."

Dipper made a face. "Great. I just love eating hair," he said sarcastically. 

Mabel snorted in amusement. She hopped off the bed and picked up the tray. She placed it in front of Dipper then got back on the bed, determination in her eyes. 

"I'm not leaving until you've eaten every last bite of that," she declared, gesturing at the pancakes. 

Warmed by her resolve, Dipper reluctantly began to eat the pancakes. He swore he heard a faint disapproving scoff and looked over his shoulder, expecting to see someone standing behind him. But there was nothing. Just the back of his bed. 

"Is something wrong?" Mabel asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly. 

Dipper plastered on a fake smile, trying to ignore the buzz of uneasiness telling him that something was wrong. "No, I just... thought I heard something."

Mabel relaxed. "Maybe it was an animal or Stan. He's pretty loud."

Dipper took another bite of pancakes and almost choked as his tongue felt hair in his mouth. He spat it out, disgusted, and Mabel's concern immediately disappeared when she saw the large gray hair sticking out of the half-chewed mush of pancake. She burst out laughing, clutching her stomach as she bent over wheezing. Dipper glared at her, offended by her laughter at his suffering. 

"I thought you were joking when you said there was hair in it!" he snapped. He pushed the breakfast tray away, his appetite thoroughly ruined. 

"Nope. Stan said so himself. Did you know I got ten hairs in a stack of three pancakes?" 

"Please don't tell me you ate them."

"What?" Mabel scoffed. A bright grin stretched across her face, and Dipper shook his head in exasperation. "Of course I did!"

"Well, I'm not eating them," Dipper said, gently pushing the tray toward Mabel. His sister frowned, staring at the plate. He had only fully eaten one pancake, and there were two more. She crossed her arms and gave him a firm stare. Uh oh. 

"Pick out the hair if you don't want to eat it," she said, pushing the tray back to him. "You need to eat, Dipper, to get your strength back."

"The hairs ruined my appetite," Dipper said. It was true. In fact, he felt like throwing up now. 

"Eat!" Mabel insisted, practically shoving the food into his face. "Or I'll force feed you!" She widened her eyes, doing her best attempt at a puppy face. 

Dipper couldn't find it in him to say no. "Fine," he sighed, taking back the tray and picking up the fork again. 

As he ate, Mabel helped him pick out the hairs. She was strangely quiet the entire time, and Dipper wondered why. A pang of guilt struck him as he realized that she must be worried sick about him after nearly collapsing yesterday. He looked up at her apologetically. 

"I'm sorry."

Mabel tilted her head like a confused dog. "Sorry for what?"

Dipper poked at the last bit of pancake with his fork. "For getting sick yesterday."

"That wasn't your fault, bro."

"But I'm making you worried when you- we- should be enjoying summer together."

Mabel shook her head. "Don't say that. I have a right to be worried about you. We literally had to carry you up the stairs!" 

"But-"

"Besides, Stan is going to be making me do chores all day. Be glad you're missing out." 

Dipper Pines was never leaving this bed again. 

"Well, have fun with that," he said, giving her his empty tray and leaning back against his pillow. "Bringing me breakfast wasn't a chore, right?"

"Nope! I asked Stan if I could do it. He was originally going to bring it up," Mabel said with a proud smile. The morning sunlight bounced off her braces, making them shine. 

"Thanks." Dipper was feeling tired again. "I think I'll take a nap now. My head still hurts." 

Mabel's smile vanished like mist in the sun. "Okay," she said quietly. The worry was back in her eyes. She picked up the tray and left, giving one last look over her shoulder. 

Dipper nestled into the soft blankets surrounding him, closing his eyes and ignoring the soft pain in his head. It wasn't as bad as yesterday, but it made him feel terrible. The pain wasn't strong enough, though, to keep back sleep, and he let go, descending into the world of dreams. 

___

He opened his eyes, expecting to see the roof of the attic. He was awake now, wasn't he? A chill ran through him as he suddenly realized that he was standing, not lying down on a bed. Wait, he wasn't in the Shack at all. Where was he?

All around him were high stacks of books. Dipper grazed his hand over the spines of the books, all of which were a light gray. Everything around him was gray. The lush carpets beneath his feet were gray, the ceiling was gray, the lights were gray. Everything was gray except him. Dipper walked along the bookshelves, curious about this weird dream. It had to be a dream. He was clearly not awake, yet he felt awake? Was he lucid dreaming? 

The shelves suddenly shook, and a couple of books fell off the shelves. Dipper picked one up and opened it, and his eyes widened in surprise. 

The pages held not words but a single moving image. In it, a younger Dipper was sitting behind a door, crying. A bunch of taped together Valentine's slid under the door, and the younger Dipper cheered up as he picked up the messily crafted heart made by his sister. It was a memory. Dipper closed the book, his heart racing. A memory? He pulled out a couple of other books and opened them. Every single one of them contained a memory from his past. He hurried down the aisle, searching for a clue of what the bookshelves were supposed to be. Why did they hold his memories? He spotted a door at the end of the aisle and opened it. 

The door led to a wide room. It had no ceiling, and Dipper could see bookshelves towering through the sky, filled with more books containing his memories. In the center of the room were two beds, one his and the other Mabel's. They were their beds from home. The walls were covered in pictures and drawings the twins had made over the years, along with several items of Dipper's individual interests. He gazed around in awe as he walked over to sit on his bed. This place was amazing!

"GREAT. THE KID IS HERE!" 

Dipper screamed at the large booming voice that echoed through the room. He jumped off the bed, spinning around wildly in an attempt to find the source of the voice. 

"YOU SCREAM LIKE A GIRL, KID." 

Dipper gasped, insulted. "I do not!" he protested. "And why are you yelling?" He paused. "Scratch that, who are you?"

The loud voice did not reply. Dipper sat down on his bed, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. Wait, it was just a dream. Nothing could hurt him here. 

The bed jolted as the room shook. Dipper looked up at the open ceiling and barely contained a gasp as a blue light lit up the sky among the bookshelves. What was that? 

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" 

Dipper covered his ears, wincing at the loud screaming echoing around the strange place. Whatever that voice was, it was mad. Very mad. 

"Can you stop yelling?" Dipper tried to call out. Unfortunately, the voice's volume drowned his own voice out. This was the worst dream ever. 

His brain agreed, and Dipper was suddenly back in the real world, lying on the bed in the attic. He rubbed his eyes, lamenting the return of that awful headache. The smell of tea hit his nose, and he glanced over at the bedside table where a lamp sat. A cup of tea rested beside the lamp; a piece of paper was propped up on its side. Dipper picked up the piece of the paper and read it. 

"'Hey, kid! Hope you're feeling better. I made some tea for you to help you recover. Don't complain if it tastes bad. I grabbed it off the shelf without looking at it, so no complaints! - Stan.'" Dipper smiled. How thoughtful! He picked up the tea cup and took a sip. Thankfully, it was a little bit warm and not hot. It tasted like peppermint. 

It was a half hour after noon. Dipper didn't feel hungry, and he guessed Stan would get mad if he dared to go downstairs. So he pulled a book out of his suitcase and began to read. 

"DIPPPPEEEERRR!"

He looked up from his book at the sound of Mabel's yelling. Even through the door, it caused his head to hurt. He covered his ears as his sister reached the door and kicked it open, still yelling his name. 

"Mabel, can you stop yelling?" he asked. "You're making my head hurt."

Mabel shut up immediately. "Oh, I'm sorry! Are you still feeling sick?" She threw herself onto the bed beside him. 

"I'm a little better, bu-" Dipper cut himself off as he finally noticed the red dirty book in his sister's arms. "What's that?"

Mabel grinned. "A present. For you." She held up the book with flourish. 

It was incredibly beat up. The cover was torn and covered in dirt, and the gold print of a six-fingered hand was slightly peeling off. Written in the middle of the hand was the number three. As dirty as it looked, Dipper felt himself being drawn to it. He took it from Mabel and flipped it open, eyes widening as he took in pages of creatures only seen in fantasy. 

"I went out to look for something to give you," Mabel explained, bouncing excitedly. "Stan made me hang up signs while I did that, and I tried to put a sign on a tree except it was made of metal! I found a hatch and pulled it open and found a weird looking box! It opened a hole in the ground where I found that!" She pointed at the book. "I thought, 'Hmmm, yes, Dipper would love a book. I wonder what's inside.' So I checked it out, and it's full of creepy supernatural stuff that you love! Do you like it?"

Dipper admired a page written about zombies, tracing the drawing with a finger. It was well made, and the notes scribbled down were elegant and descriptive. He flipped to the front of the book and saw the words "trust no one" scrawled across it. 

He looked up at his sister, eyes shining. "I love it! Do you think this stuff is real?" He tore through the pages, skimming the lines, trying to determine if the author sounded sane. 

Mabel shrugged. "Could be. We can investigate once you get better. You look pale." 

Reality came crashing back down, along with a throbbing pain in his head. Sighing, he closed the book and set it on the bedside table. The gold hand shimmered in the bright sunlight pouring in from the window, taunting him and inviting him to read through its pages holding secret knowledge. But Dipper doubted he could properly read with the awful headache plaguing him. 

"Can you get me a glass of water?" he asked his sister. 

"Sure thing, bro-bro!" Mabel rushed out the door, closing it as she went. 

Silence filled the attic. Dipper glanced at the book, his fingers itching to grasp it. He had caught glimpses of creatures unheard of in those pages, and he desperately wanted to know more. He reached for the book. The cover was surprisingly smooth under his fingertips. He pulled it towards him and tugged it into his lap. Opening it, he began to read. Or tried to. The words swam before him as dizziness overcame him. He clutched his head, grimacing as he felt his burning skin. He really was sick. 

Reluctantly he put the book back on the nightstand as Mabel opened the door, a glass of water in her hand. The ice clinked like wind chimes as she walked over to the bed and gave it to her brother. 

"Did you need anything else?" she asked. 

"No, I'm fine." He hesitated. "Do you have a fan? It's really hot in here."

Mabel tapped her chin, thinking. "I'll ask Grunkle Stan if he has one."

Dipper did a double take. "Grunkle? What on Earth is a Grunkle?"

"It's a mashup of great uncle!" Mabel explained. "Great uncle sounds sooo boring and formal, so I combined it! Thus- Grunkle!" 

Dipper laughed and shook his head. Pain spiked at the motion, and he stilled. "Very funny, Mabel." His voice was tense. 

Mabel took his hand in hers, giving him comfort with a squeeze. Then she left, leaving Dipper alone in silence again. 

Only now he finally realized that he could faintly hear the same screaming from his dream. 

___

Dipper spent his first week in Gravity Falls lying in bed being sick. Mabel and Stan did their best to figure out what was wrong with him, but there was no discernable answer. He wasn't sick with anything in particular, and it was unlikely something had affected him. Fortunately, his headache had gone away after the first two days, but since then he had been coughing and his temperature rose. The only blessing in his plight other than his family was the journal. 

Currently he was reading a page about a triangle. A living, breathing triangle. Of all the odd creatures in the journal, the triangle was the weirdest one. It was colored all black and had one eye and a top hat. There looked to be a blood spatter on the page- Dipper refused to look at that part- and the author had put in great effort emphasizing that the triangle should not be summoned at all costs. Dipper was unnerved by the pages, but he couldn't help but stare at the image for several minutes. For some reason, his headache faded away a little bit after he read the pages about the triangle, whose name was Bill Cipher. He didn't question it because of course it could be none other than a coincidence. 

Noon came soon, and Dipper put aside the journal in preparation to talk to his sister. She was the one who took him lunch; Stan brought him breakfast so she could sleep in. Dipper was touched that Mabel was taking time out of her eagerly awaited summer to care for him, and he planned to express his appreciation now that he felt a little bit better. 

But it wasn't Mabel who walked through the attic door, a tray laden with a sandwich and water and whatever medicine their grunkle bought from the store. It was Stan himself. Dipper stared at him as his great uncle strolled over to him, humming a random tune. 

"How you doing, kiddo?" Stan asked as he sat down to stare unblinkingly at Dipper as he ate. Mabel and Stan both did that; they seemed to think Dipper wouldn't eat everything unless they forced him to (they were right). 

In the entire week he had been sick, Mabel had always brought him his lunch. Dipper frowned. "Where's Mabel?"

"Good question."

"Did she not tell you?" Dipper's frown deepened. 

"I was busy leading a tour." Stan held up his hands defensively. "We can ask Soos or Wendy. They might know."

He and Mabel were definitely going to wind up dead by the end of the summer. "Okay, let's go-"

"Woah, woah," Stan interrupted. He stood up and placed his hands on his hips, an aggressive scowl spread across his face. "I'm not going anywhere until you eat that sandwich in its entirety. And I mean its entirety! I expect no crumbs on this plate before I leave."

Alarm coursed through Dipper as he suddenly remembered all the dangerous creatures roaming the woods around the town. "But we have to find her!"

"We-" Stan put extra emphasis on the word- "aren't doing anything. You've still got a fever, Dipper. You can barely stand without your head killing you."

"I don't have a headache anymore!" Dipper protested. 

"If you're sick enough to not get out of bed, you are not fit to go searching for a preteen girl. Now eat. You're wasting precious time."

Dipper was about to point out that Stan was wasting his own time and that he didn't have to watch him eat, but Stan glared at him so fiercely that the words died in his throat. Picking up the sandwich, he took a bite, surprised to find that it actually tasted good. 

"Tastes good, huh?" Stan said upon seeing Dipper's visible look of surprise. "No surprise there. Mabel was putting glitter on the meat. I only found out yesterday."

Dipper almost choked on a large bite of ham, lettuce, and tomato. Glitter? That was ten times worse than hair! And he'd been eating it all week! At the sound of a laugh, he shot Stan a dirty look. 

"Don't laugh. It's not funny," he mumbled around the sandwich.

Stan's brow creased with confusion. "I wasn't laughing."

Dipper blushed in embarrassment. "S-sorry, I guess... I guess I just heard something." He avoided Stan's eyes as he continued to eat. 

First it was screaming, now it was laughter. Who was making those noises? Was he hallucinating or something? 

"I was thinking about letting you and your sister keep something from the gift shop," Stan suddenly said. "As a welcome gift."

"We still need to find Mabel," Dipper reminded him. 

"I still need to find Mabel," Stan corrected sternly. "I told you, kid, don't push yourself."

Dipper scowled and pushed away the tray. Only a crumb remained on it, but that was clearly too much for Stan. His grunkle narrowed his eyes and pointed at the crumb, silently telling Dipper to eat it or pay. Dipper obeyed, knowing that now Stan could go search for Mabel. Finally!

Stan took the tray and ruffled Dipper's hair in a rare display of affection by Stan's standards. As soon as the attic door closed, Dipper pulled the journal back out from under his pillow, where he stashed it for safekeeping. He opened the journal and flicked through to the page he was on. The page was about gnomes, little men of the forest who were more dangerous than they looked. They apparently had no weaknesses, which Dipper found surprising. Couldn't you just kick one out of the way? Small creatures weren't really a threat until they swarmed together. 

Hours passed, and the only sounds Dipper heard from downstairs were thuds and the chatter of customers. Neither Mabel nor Stan had come back yet. Anxiety gnawed at Dipper like he was gnawing on a pen he had grabbed. It was a bad habit of his, chewing on pens when he was stressed. He grunted in disgust as the pen cracked and ink flooded his mouth. He spat the foul tasting and probably toxic liquid out and decided that he was done waiting. Stan and Mabel should have been back hours ago. He threw the covers off himself and stood up, feeling better than he had all week. It was like his symptoms had magically disappeared. 

Putting his green cap and blue vest on, Dipper marched down the stairs to the front door of the Shack, his journal tucked under his arm. Stan was most likely looking around town for his sister, so Dipper would search the forest. It would be just like Mabel to go wandering out in a probably-magical forest. She might be looking for a unicorn or fairies. He spotted a red-haired girl leaning against a golf cart. Sliding the journal into his vest, he approached the girl. She was busy typing something on her phone and didn't notice him until he cleared his throat. 

"Um... Can I borrow the golf cart?" Dipper asked nervously. "I need to go find my sister in the woods, and it would be quicker than walking."

He expected her to say no or, even worse, tell him to go back inside to the attic. She seemed to be one of Stan's employees, and Dipper knew he had told them to make him go back upstairs if he came down. 

But the girl shrugged. "Sure, why not. I wasn't going to use it anyway." She handed him the keys. "You're Dipper, right?"

Dipper froze. If he said yes, would she send him back inside?

"I'm Wendy," the girl continued, taking his silence as a yes. "Glad to know you're feeling better. You looked half dead when Stan brought you in."

Dipper quickly hopped into the cart after mumbling a thank you, pulling his hat down to cover his red face. So it wasn't just Stan and Mabel who knew about his near-fainting. He started the cart and drove into the forest, forcing his thoughts back onto his sister. He had to find her! 

Only birdsong greeted him as he drove through the forest. It was beautiful, with lush grass and pine trees and colorful mushrooms. Dipper wished he could have spent the last week out here instead of being stuck in bed. At least the journal had given him a small glimpse into what the town had to offer. Maybe he'd see a magical creature right now-

A distant scream echoed through the trees. Dipper's heart raced as he recognized it. It was Mabel! He turned the cart in the direction of the sound and sped up, begging anyone who was listening for her to be safe. As the screams became clearer, he realized that she didn't sound scared or in pain. On the contrary, she sounded furious. A cave appeared through the trees, and Mabel's screams became ear piercingly loud. Dipper pitied whoever was making her scream. 

He drove into the cave and abruptly stopped the cart, his eyes widening. 

Tiny men surrounded his sister, who was tied to the ground and struggling madly. Her hair was tousled, and her eyes were burning with a fire that made even Dipper flinch. Dipper got off the cart, amazed by the sight before him. Gnomes had kidnapped his sister. He was genuinely surprised that they didn't look hurt. Mabel packed a mean punch. 

"Mabel!" he called, running toward his sister. 

She looked up, eyes brightening as he came forward. "Dipper! Help! My boyfriend turned out to be a bunch of gnomes!"

Dipper stopped halfway across the cave. "Boyfriend? Since when did you get a boyfriend?"

Mabel blushed. "Oh, uh, I've been looking for one while you've been sick, and I met this guy named Norman, but he turned out to be a bunch of gnomes!" 

Anger filled Dipper. "What are you doing with my sister?" he yelled at the gnomes. 

A gnome with a brown beard turned to face Dipper, a reassuring smile on his face. "She'll be okay, kid. She's just going to have to marry all five thousand of us and become our gnome queen for all eternity! Isn't that right, honey?"

"You guys are butt faces!"

Dipper was appalled. "Absolutely not!" He charged at the gnomes and kicked one across the cave. The gnomes squeaked and scattered as he pulled the cords off of Mabel. She punched the brown beard gnome in the face, and he squealed in pain and scampered a couple of feet away from the twins.

"You're out of your league, kids! The gnomes are a powerful race!" he yelled. He cut off with a scream as another gnome landed on top of him, thrown by Mabel. 

Dipper and Mabel ran to the golf cart and jumped inside; Dipper sped out of the cave, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Being outside and kicking gnomes was invigorating after a week of bed rest. 

"Should we go faster?" Mabel asked nervously, glancing over her shoulder. 

Dipper scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Their tiny legs are never going to catch up with the golf cart! What's the most they can do, anyway? Nip us?"

A loud crash from behind startled them, almost making Dipper turn into a tree. The ground beneath the cart shook, and birds rose into the trees with cries of alarm. The twins looked over their shoulders and gasped in horror at the sight of a large mass of gnomes rising into the air. The tiny men scrambled over each other as they formed one giant gnome, ready to chase the kids and take back their queen-to-be. The collection of gnomes roared, and Dipper pressed on the gas, suddenly wanting nothing more than to be back in the Shack. The giant pounded after them, and the kids hung onto the cart as tight as they could as it barreled through the forest. Dipper's panic was so great he didn't notice the laughter echoing in his mind, sharper than it had previously. As the plain white back of the "Welcome to Gravity Falls" sign came into view, Dipper barely restrained himself from slamming the brakes as a cry of alarm sounded from somewhere. 

STOP THE CART! YOU'RE GOING TO GET US KILLED!

The gnome's shadow loomed over them, its mouth opening wide as if to swallow them and cart up in one single bite. Dipper pressed harder on the gas, and the cart broke through the sign and soared through the air. For a brief moment, the twins could see far across a beautiful grassy hill, and then the cart slammed back onto the ground and the school of gnomes roared. 

The cart rushed in the direction of the Mystery Shack. The thuds and shakes of footsteps were close behind as they finally made it back to the rickety building. 

"Oh, no, what if Stan sees this?" Mabel cried.

Inside the Shack, a tall man wearing a question mark shirt was showing tourists a spinning black and white object. Dipper couldn't see what it was, but everyone was standing there staring at it. Kind of creepy, but he and Mabel were seconds away from getting crushed to death. The cart tumbled to the ground, and the twins backed up against the wall of the Shack. The gnome abomination halted in front of them, and the brown bearded gnome addressed them. 

"It's the end of the line, kids! Mabel, marry us before we do something crazy!" he shouted. 

Mabel sighed and stepped forward, a resigned look on her face. Dipper whipped his head around to look at her, confused and shocked. 

"I gotta do it," she mumbled, heading toward the gnomes. 

"What? Mabel, don't do this! Are you crazy?" Dipper yelled, horrified. 

"Trust me." Mabel smiled a little. 

Dipper really, really did not want to as this idea seemed to be beyond the realms of stupid. But he remembered how Mabel had shown no resentment or irritation in caring for him the past week, and he owed her his trust. Mabel wasn't stupid... She must have a plan. He nodded at her, signaling that he trusted her. His sister walked up to the giant gnome. 

"All right, Jeff! I'll marry you!" she called to the brown bearded gnome. So his name was Jeff. 

Jeff's eyes lit up in excitement. He climbed down the mass of his kin and headed up to Mabel. She held out her hand so he could put the ring on. Dipper crossed his arms, feeling... weirdly amused by the display before him. Yet the feeling felt foreign, like it wasn't his own. 

That's because it isn't, idiot. 

Dipper pushed the small voice away. He needed to focus and be ready for whatever Mabel had planned. Jeff had put the ring on her finger and was saying they should go back to the forest now. 

"You may now kiss the bride!" Mabel announced, smiling widely. 

"Oh, well, don't mind if I do!" Jeff leaned in, and Mabel's hand reached for something just behind her

 In a quick motion, she brought out a leaf blower and turned it on. Jeff yelled in fright as the suction blew him in; his fat little body caught in the opening, and he struggled around in an attempt to break free. 

"That's for lying to me!" Mabel shouted. She increased the power, causing Jeff to slip a bit. His little hands grabbed at the edge of the opening, panic burning in his eyes. "That's for breaking my heart!" She turned the power to the maximum in an aggressive motion. "And this is for messing with my brother!" Jeff screamed as his legs kicked in the air, the only part of him visible. Mabel pointed the leaf blower at the giant gnome and looked at Dipper. 

"Wanna do the honors?"

Dipper grinned and placed his hand on the button to release the suction. 

"On three." 

"One... Two... Three!" They reversed the power, and Jeff popped out of the leaf blower screaming his face off. He hit the mass of gnomes, and it exploded in all directions like bowling pins. The gnomes cried in terror as the twins chased them with the leaf blower. They ran for cover, disappearing into the forest. Dipper and Mabel exchanged a look, the thrill of adventure coursing through each of them. The look quickly faded from Mabel's face as her eyes narrowed. 

"Wait... Dipper, aren't you supposed to be in bed?"

Dipper froze, guilt finally coming back to bite him. "Well... you were missing... And I got worried..."

Mabel threw her hands in the air in exasperation. "That's it! We're going back inside, and I'm locking you in our room!"

"I'm fine, Mabel!" Dipper protested. "I don't feel sick anymore, I swear!" 

"DIPPER AND MABEL PINES!"

Dipper flinched at the yell, and Mabel's eyes widened in fear. An infuriated Stan was marching up the lawn, looking very much like he wanted to punch them. The twins crowded together, trying their best not to cower before the blaze of rage. Stan crossed his arms and glared down at them. 

"Mabel, where the heck have you been? You had me and Dipper worried sick! And you-" he turned his ferocious glare on Dipper- "why are you not in bed? I told you to stay and rest! How do you think I would have felt if I found you missing or collapsed somewhere in the middle of the woods?"

Dipper looked down at his toes. "Sorry, Grunkle Stan. I- I just wanted to help look for Mabel."

Stan's expression softened. He sighed. "Okay, okay. I get wanting to help your sibling. But if you wind up dead next time, don't say I didn't warn ya."

Dipper couldn't help but smile at his grunkle. He knew he was joking. Stan wrinkled his nose. 

"Go inside and clean yourselves up. You look like you purposefully fell into a clump of bushes." He opened the front door and ushered them inside. "Anyway, you look better than you have all week, Dipper. How's about you and Mabel take something from the gift shop for free? I'm feeling generous, so don't think I'll give you any more favors." 

Dipper suddenly realized his cap was gone and reached out to take a blue and white one with a pine tree on it. He placed it on his head, feeling like he was destined to have this cap. Meanwhile, Mabel had darted over to a secluded corner of the gift shop. 

"And I'll have a... GRAPPLING HOOK!" She held up the large metal gun with an even larger silver hook. 

"Wouldn't you rather have a doll or something?" Stan asked, eyeing the grappling hook with trepidation. Dipper was dreading the mischief Mabel could get up to with that thing. 

"GRAPPLING HOOK!" Mabel insisted. 

They all laughed, and Dipper was glad for his family and the adventure he and his sister had shared. Maybe the summer wouldn't be so bad after all...

___

Dipper woke up again in the gray library after collapsing in bed exhausted. He was sitting on the bed where the last dream had ended. He scratched his head, amazed at the re-occurrence of the dream. It was such a weird one to repeat. He got off the bed and turned around, ready to explore. He stiffened when his eyes landed on the other bed, unable to process what he was seeing. 

A triangle sat on the other bed, arms crossed. Not only did it have arms, it had legs, too, and a single eye placed right in the middle of its body. A top hat was perched on the top of the triangle, and it even wore a bowtie. Dipper took a step back, hoping it wasn't who he thought it was. The journal had warned that it was more dangerous than anything else in the town...

But the triangle didn't respond to him. Instead, it seemed to be talking to the wall. 

"Hey, it's a good way to get anger out. I felt a lot better once it was done. It had some interesting consequences, though..."

"Who are you talking to?" Dipper blurted out. Immediately he closed his mouth, scolding himself for saying anything. 

The triangle's eye moved to look directly at him. Dipper tried his best not to shake. 

"Mason 'Dipper' Pines, how's it going? Been feeling less sick, I hear?" The triangle floated into the air, arms still crossed. It sounded annoyed. 

"H-how do you know my name?" Dipper backed away more, putting more distance between himself and what he feared was a demon. 

"Oh, I know lots of things," the triangle said in fake cheerfulness. "Like how you HAVE A DEATH WISH!" Its voice deepened and grew louder on the last words, and Dipper flinched in fear, raising his hands to protect himself. The triangle reached down and plucked him off the ground, eye turning red. Dipper trembled as the red light bathed over him. 

"W-w-who a-re you?" he managed to squeak out. 

The triangle relaxed, eye turning back to normal. He dropped Dipper, but he felt no pain when he hit the ground. "The name's Bill Cipher, and I'm currently stuck in your mind."

"Stuck in my mind?"

"Yup. Can't leave. Which is why YOU SHOULD BE MORE CAREFUL!" Bill's slit pupil narrowed until it was just a barely visible line. "I don't know what would happen to me if you died with me stuck in here, and I would rather leave before you get another chance to find out! So-" He sat back down on the bed. "I have one simple favor to ask: help me get out of here."

Dipper, disturbed that a demon was trapped in his mind, responded without hesitation. "Okay?" Almost immediately he kicked himself for so readily agreeing when he knew nothing about the strange entity in his mind, but he doubted he'd be allowed to back out of his decision. 

"Great! Now, if memory serves me right, the journal you have mentions me. It might say how to force me out of your mind." 

Dipper nodded. He wasn't entirely sure this was real, but if it was, then he had work to do. The last thing he wanted was a triangle demon snooping through his thoughts and memories. 

When he woke up, he immediately opened the journal to the page about Bill. Real or not real, he wasn't going to take any chances with that dangerous entity. 

Chapter Text

Dipper spent the entire next morning combing through the journal. He searched every page for a hint on how to banish a triangle from your mind, and the closest he got to an answer were the pages about ghosts. The moment his eyes landed on the page describing level 10 ghosts, he heard Bill scoff and mutter something indistinguishable. Ghosts or no ghosts, exorcism was exorcism. Dipper was hesitant to try it on himself, though, as the page did not specify anything about possession or however Bill was trapped in his mind. He flipped back to the pages about the triangle in question and stared at them hard, trying to entice Bill to speak. 

I'll speak when I want to, Pine Tree.

Dipper clicked the tip of his pen rapidly as he read through the warnings on the page. "Well, is there any way to summon you? It says here 'DO NOT SUMMON', so there must be a way. Why isn't it in the journal, though?"

There is, but it's not in this journal.

"Which one is it in, then? The first or second?" 

It's in Journal 2. Some kid named Gideon Gleeful has it.

"Gideon Gleeful?" Dipper laughed. "That's such a stupid name!" Suddenly he realized he was talking aloud to a demon he could possibly be hallucinating and resolved to shut up. 

I'm as real as you. You're not crazy.

Dipper ignored the barely audible voice in his head and went back to the passage detailing exorcism. His stomach churned as he read, and he wondered if he should tell Mabel about Bill. Would she believe him? Even after fighting gnomes the day before, Dipper was struggling with the idea of a literal demon being stuck in his mind. If Mabel thought he was crazy, he wouldn't trust anything anymore. 

As if his thoughts had summoned her, his twin sister slammed the door open. With a wide smile and hair sticky with glue and glitter, Mabel threw herself onto Dipper's bed. 

"Mabel!" Dipper cried, horrified. "You're going to get glue all over my bed! Get off!" He pushed his sister off, fighting the smile that was threatening to break through his serious demeanor. 

"How's the journal?" Mabel chirped, stretching out the first syllable of journal. 

"It's great." Dipper looked down at the journal and wondered, again, if he should tell Mabel about Bill. 

Mabel swiped the journal out of his hands, ignoring his indignant cry as glitter fell onto the cover. Her eyes sparkled with intrigue as she read. Dipper rubbed his hands on his legs nervously; if he wanted to tell Mabel, this would be a good starting point. Mabel shut the journal with a snap and pointed at the ceiling dramatically. Oh no. She had gotten an idea. 

"Dipper, I know what we're going to do today!" she exclaimed. 

Dipper relaxed at the familiar carefree attitude. "Lemme guess. We're going ghost hunting?"

"Exactly!" Mabel made a finger gun at the window and mimed shooting. "Then we can do an exorcism like they do in all those scary, gruesome horror movies!"

She was just joking, he knew that, but a shiver ran down his spine nonetheless. He forced a smile for Mabel's sake and attempted to formulate a sentence in his head, but how exactly does one go about telling their twin that a demon is in their head? 

A hand waved in front of his eyes. He jumped. 

"Dipper? You okay?" Mabel stood in front of him. "Are you feeling sick again?"

"No, no, I'm fine." Dipper did his best to smile as genuinely as possible. "Actually... I need to talk to you."

Mabel's energy faded immediately. She closed the door and sat next to him on his bed. Dipper was surprised she had actually registered his solemn tone as his sister didn't even so much as smile while she waited for him to speak. Usually Mabel had a tough time understanding the gravity of serious situations, and he was glad she had managed to do so for once. 

Dipper took a deep breath and flipped the journal open to the page about Bill. "I had a dream last night about... this thing. I've... been hearing his voice in my head the past couple of days, and last night he... showed up in my dream." He studied the cleanliness of his white socks, which had been protected from the attic's grime from days of staying under sheets. His voice sped up as he talked, urgent to convince Mabel that he wasn't crazy. "Apparently he's stuck in my mind, and he wants to get out. So... I've been looking in the journal for ways to force him out. That's what I was doing when you come in-"

"Okay."

Dipper's head shot up in surprise. He blinked at his sister, confused. "What?"

"I'll help," Mabel said. Her voice was strong and full of certainty. Her gaze held no playfulness, only a resolve Dipper wished he had. 

"You... you believe me?" Dipper felt himself melting in relief. "You don't think I'm crazy?"

"We got attacked by gnomes yesterday. Anything is possible." A mischievous grin crossed her face as she added, "Also, you were muttering about triangle demons in your sleep, so I know you're not lying about seeing him in your dreams."

Dipper flopped onto his side and buried his face in his pillow. "Well, it was nice knowing you, Mabel. I'm going to die of embarrassment now."

"Oh, c'mon, I talk in my sleep, too!" Mabel reassured him. She took the pillow out of his hands and threw it onto the floor. Dipper sat up and glared at her. 

"Don't get my pillow dirty!" he scolded her as he picked it off the really dusty floor. Seriously, did Stan never clean?

It's the attic, kid, get used to it.

The motivation to kick Bill out became stronger than ever. Dipper tucked the journal into his pocket and turned to Mabel, noting with concern that she hadn't returned to her usual bubbly self. Maybe she really did believe him. 

Mabel hopped off of the bed and struck a heroic pose, right on top of his now dirty pillow. "Fret not, Dipper, we're going to whoop that demon's butt!" she declared. "That'll teach him not to mess with my brother!"

"He didn't choose to be stuck in my mind," Dipper reminded her. He had heard Bill mutter a promise to kill Mabel someday, and the last thing he wanted was for his sister to get targeted by a demon just because she was being dramatic. 

"Then that'll teach whatever stuck him there to not mess with my brother!" Mabel corrected. She swung open the attic door hard enough that the slam reverberated throughout the whole house and darted down the stairs. Dipper slipped his journal into his jacket and followed. 

He found his sister rummaging through the fridge, probably looking for breakfast for him. His stomach growled as he thought of food, reminding him that he hadn't eaten anything since last night. Dipper sat down at the table and examined the kitchen; it was the first time he had properly been inside. It was small but nice, perfect for the strange shack. Mabel was about to pull something out of the fridge (Dipper didn't know whether to be wary or not) when Stan strolled into the kitchen, dressed in his fancy tour suit. Their grunkle slammed his hands down onto the table, causing the twins to jump. Mabel dropped whatever she was holding, and judging by the seeping pink liquid spreading across the floor, Dipper was glad Stan had walked in. Only Mabel could properly digest her infamous Mabel Juice, a nightmarish concoction of caffeine, glitter, and plastic dinosaurs. 

Plastic dinosaurs? How does she not choke?

Stan wrapped his arm around Dipper's neck and squeezed the poor boy into an aggressive half-hug. Dipper wheezed, trying to breathe through Stan's strong grip. 

Fortunately, Stan released him before he could die of oxygen deprivation. "All right, kids!" He clapped his hands together. "Now that Dipper's not deathly ill, we're going out to eat and to make him feel bad about every fun thing he's missed while bedridden!" 

As much as his stomach desperately whined for food, Dipper was reluctant to go. He and Mabel needed to attempt to exorcise Bill before anything else; it was his highest priority at the moment, especially since the demon got more grumpy the longer he waited. Dipper and Mabel exchanged a look, and they opened their mouths to decline Stan's request. Except it wasn't a request.

"Get your shoes on! You don't have a choice!" Stan turned on his heel and left the kitchen, leaving behind a set of frustrated twins. 

Dipper groaned loudly and pressed his face into the table. "Couldn't he have waited until after we'd done it?" 

Mabel patted his head comfortingly. "Hey, cheer up! It's only going to be an hour or two! Triangle guy isn't bothering you too bad, right?"

"He's annoying."

Thanks.

Mabel straightened up and scowled deeply, clearly trying to look threatening. She poked her finger aggressively into Dipper's forehead. "Leave my brother alone, you evil triangle!" 

"That hurts." Dipper pushed away her finger, rubbing the spot where her nail had poked a little too hard. 

Mabel winced and shoved her hand into her sleeve. "Sorry... But I mean it, um... Bill!" 

Dipper laughed, amused by Mabel's antics. Hopefully Bill would be gone soon, and Mabel's threat wouldn't need to come to pass. 

The twins put their shoes on and hurried out the door to find Stan waiting in a large violently red car. They got into the backseat, and Mabel leaned over to whisper in Dipper's ear. 

"Stan sucks at driving."

Dipper felt his face blanch. "Oh."

The warning was correct; Stan did indeed suck at driving. He seemed to forget that he literally had children in the backseat and swerved down the road so fast Dipper was surprised he was even allowed to drive. The only reason he and Mabel weren't dead was because of their seatbelts, and Dipper had never been so grateful for the safety mechanism in all his life. By the time Stan parked in front of a small log-shaped diner, Dipper wanted to throw up. 

"I think I'm going to be sick," Dipper moaned as he got out of the car. 

Mabel and Stan immediately grabbed him by the shoulders. "Are you feeling dizzy?" "Do we need to go back home?" "Is your head hurting?"

Overwhelmed, Dipper backed away and shook his head frantically. The worried expressions on his family's faces faded as Stan and Mabel let out a collective sigh of relief. A pang of guilt struck Dipper's heart as the three of them entered the diner like nothing had happened. How bad of a state had he been in that first day? Clearly it had been bad enough to make his family freak out at the tiniest hint that he might be sick. He felt like a china doll, so fragile and carefully handled like a breath could shatter it into a thousand pieces. 

Stan ordered pancakes for them all, and they waited in brief silence, Mabel and Dipper sitting on one side of the booth and Stan on the other. The twins were slightly uncomfortable, already eager to leave and get rid of Bill. But the pancakes arrived soon enough, and Dipper had to admit they were delicious. Mabel dumped half a syrup bottle onto her pancakes, and Stan made a face. 

"How is that not disgustingly sweet?" he asked, pointing at the drenched pile of pancakes with his fork. 

"They're tastier when they're sweeter!" Mabel replied, sticking a large goopy portion into her mouth. A drop of syrup fell onto her shirt, staining the yellow shooting star flying across the center. Dipper handed her a napkin, and she put it beside her plate, leaving the star to be colored amber. 

Stan accepted Mabel's answer and targeted Dipper next. "So, Mabel told me she found you a gift. What'd she give you?"

"A book," Dipper said, which wasn't really a lie. The journal was technically a book. "It's about... ghosts."

Stan wrinkled his nose. "Ugh. I've always hated nerd books. Too many words." He faked a shudder. 

The journal's weight in his pocket pulled his attention away from Stan. He wished time would go faster if only to soothe the pounding of his heart and the fire in his nerves. 

When they had finished their surprise meal, the twins endured the return trip as best they could. Dipper's palms pooled with sweat, and his shorts were soaked by the time they got back to the Shack. Mabel was bouncing up and down impatiently; she was as nervous as he was. They thanked Stan for the gift and rushed back upstairs before he could say anything to them. It might have seemed rude, but what they needed to do was important. 

The second the attic door closed, Dipper pulled out the journal and opened to the exorcism page. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, calming his rapidly beating heart. Mabel paced in front of him, expelling all the energy the sugary pancakes had given her. Dipper read over the instructions and looked up at Mabel. 

"It says here we need candles," he said. "We need to make a circle with them."

"Okay." Mabel nodded and exited the room. 

"Don't forget to grab matches!" Dipper called after her. Candles would be useless if they couldn't light them. 

I don't think this is going to work, Pine Tree. Bill spoke skeptically. 

"You won't know if you don't try," Dipper replied, though he didn't have much faith either. "But if it doesn't... Please don't do anything horrible."

Bill did not respond. Dipper decided he had spoken so quietly he was inaudible. 

Mabel came back quickly with candles and a pack of matches, and the twins set to work creating the circle. The journal said the object holding the ghost had to be in the middle of the circle, which in this case meant Dipper. The tiny flames barely glowed in the bright sunlight of daytime, and Dipper carefully stepped over them to stand inside the circle. Burning down the Shack was not on his to-do list, and Stan would murder him and Mabel if they accidentally destroyed his business. 

"Are you ready?" Mabel asked as Dipper handed her the journal. Her eyes were full of apprehension, and Dipper took in another deep breath to calm himself. 

His voice shook as he said, "Yes." He closed his eyes and braced himself. Would it hurt? No, he shouldn't think about that possibility. It would make him more nervous. 

You know you could have just robbed Gideon. His journal has more information on me.

That. Is. Not. Helping. 

Fine, fine, but don't say I didn't tell you so!

Dipper was distracted by Bill's pessimism as Mabel recited the chant written in the journal. Her voice quivered nervously, and Dipper felt bad for asking her to do this. Neither of them knew what would happen to him, and neither of them wanted to find out. 

One of the candle's flames flickered slightly, but nothing else happened. No strange breezes, no creepy light emerging from the circle. Dipper felt the same. He bit his lip nervously. Was he supposed to feel something? Why wasn't anything happening? He opened his eyes when Mabel finished the chant. His twin shared his look of confusion; she gazed hard at the circle as if staring at it would make something happen. Dipper shifted his feet awkwardly, wondering if it worked. He had expected it to be like in the movies, with lights turning off and unnatural winds blowing. 

"Did... Did it work? Is he gone?" Mabel asked tentatively. 

I told you it wouldn't work. Smug as he may seem, Bill sounded disappointed. 

Dipper sighed heavily, his heart dropping to the floor. "No. He's still here." His eyes burned, and he forced back the urge to cry. He wasn't a baby. 

Mabel's eyes held the same crushing disappointment weighing him down. Dipper glared at the ring of candles circling him and picked one up. 

"We better clean all of this up before Stan comes to check up on us," he said, blowing it out. A drop of wax landed on his finger, and he hissed in pain, barely keeping hold of the small white object. 

Together he and his sister blew out the candles and cleaned up any wax that had gotten on the floor. After they had finished, they sat on their respective beds, not knowing what to say as the air was choked with failure. Dipper reread all the pages in the journal, hoping anything else would be in there. There had to be something!

Gideon.

Dipper paused in the middle of turning a page. "Gideon?"

"Gideon?" Mabel looked up from studying her shoes. "Who's Gideon?"

The kid that has Journal 2. The one with the spell to summon me.

"Apparently he has one of these journals-" Dipper held up the journal so Mabel could see the giant black 3 on the handprint- "and that one has information on how to summon Bill. Bill just told me that."

I told you that an hour ago!

Mabel brightened like someone had turned the sun on. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go ask for the journal!"

"Woah, woah, calm down!" Dipper shut his journal with a loud snap. "We don't even know who this kid is or where he lives!"

"Grunkle Stan might." Mabel grinned. 

Dipper was not willing to be that optimistic. "He's going to wonder where he heard of Gideon, and I bet he'd send us off to a mental hospital if we told a demon trapped in my mind told us!" 

"No, he won't!" Mabel was determined to have faith in their grunkle. "If we act serious enough, he'll have to believe us! There's no way he'd kick us out-"

"Hey, dudes."

Dipper and Mabel screamed in terror and rushed to clutch each other as a large chubby man appeared in their midst. The man wore a shirt with a question mark on it, and on his head was a baseball cap that was so high on his head it didn't shadow his face at all. The man was unfazed by the shrieking children before him and simply waited patiently as Dipper and Mabel recovered from their shock. 

"Soos!" Mabel cried, face red with anger. "Don't sneak up on us like that!"

"Sorry, dudes," the man named Soos apologized. He held a toolbox in one hand, and a belt was tied around his waist. A handyman? "Mr. Pines told me to fix the lights up here. Said they were getting old. Anyway, couldn't help but overhear that last part."

Mabel laughed nervously. "Um... By last part, you mean..."

"You were talking about finding some kid named Gideon," Soos provided. 

"You didn't hear anything other than that?" Dipper asked, a cold sweat breaking out on his face. What if Soos thought he and Mabel were crazy and reported it to Stan? 

Soos reached out and placed a comforting hand on Dipper's hat. "No worries, man, I'm not going to tell Mr. Pines about the demon."

Dread coursed through Dipper so strongly his knees gave out, and he fell to the bed, paralyzed by horror. All the blood drained from Mabel's face, and she stepped forward toward Soos, hands clasped pleadingly. 

"Please don't throw us into an asylum!" she cried. "I know it seems like we're nuts, but we're not! The demon is real, and we need Gideon to drive him out!"

Soos' eyes widened. "Crazy? Why would I think you dudes are crazy?"

Mabel sputtered incoherently, and Dipper mumbled, "Many people don't believe in demons."

Soos chuckled. "You'd be surprised at the strange things in this town, man. I'm pretty sure the mail man is a werewolf, what with all that hair he has."

Dipper peeled himself off his bed to stare at Soos in surprise. The man sounded so serious there was no choice but to take him for his word. Honestly, he shouldn't be too surprised. It would be stupid if it had been just the author of the journal(s) who had seen the weird creatures in Gravity Falls. Dipper grabbed his notebook and pen and clicked the pen on, ready to write. 

"Do you know anything about Gideon Gleeful?" he asked Soos. Mabel burst out laughing at the name. Soos, on the other hand, showed no sign of amusement at the silly name. 

"He's a child psychic," Soos said. Dipper scribbled down all the information as fast as he could as Soos continued to speak. "He's the star of the Tent of Telepathy and Mr. Pines' greatest rival. He can read minds, dude, like actually look into them and see your darkest secrets and most private thoughts!"

"And no one finds that disturbing?" Dipper frowned as he underlined "child psychic" and "can read minds".

Soos shrugged. "Mr. Pines loves to call Gideon a fake. We could always go to one of his shows if you need to talk to him, but I doubt Mr. Pines would approve."

"Then Stan doesn't need to know," Dipper said, ripping out the page with facts about Gideon Gleeful. He folded the paper up neatly and tucked it into his pocket along with his pen. 

Mabel frowned. "I don't know, bro... He wouldn't know where we are, and after last week..."

Dipper scowled at the implication in her words. "I'm fine. I'm not going to collapse again."

"I know that! I just don't want to make Stan worried!" Mabel protested. She kicked at the floor. "It would be cruel to repay his kindness by disappearing on him without a word."

Dipper shot a look at the journal lying on the bed. As tempting as it was to get this fiasco over with, Mabel had a point. Stan had been nothing but caring to him, and Dipper didn't want to make his grunkle worry about him anymore than he already had. 

"Okay. We'll ask him." 

Mabel let out a cheer. 

"But not today," Dipper added quickly. "We need to figure out what we're going to say."

"I'll be there to help," Soos promised. "Hey, maybe I could get Wendy in on this, too. Make it four against one."

Dipper and Mabel agreed, and they went downstairs to let Soos fix their lights without any distractions. Mabel rushed down the stairs so fast she was nothing more than a pink blur, and soon it was just Dipper walking down the stairs. 

You're wasting my time, Pine Tree.

"Why do you call me that?" Dipper asked quietly. 

Call you what?

"Pine Tree."

None of your business. Just stop dawdling and go steal that journal!

"No way." Dipper shook his head. "Mabel and I are going to politely ask for it like civilized beings."

Someone kill me again. Please.

Chapter Text

Stan, as it turned out, was far more slippery than Dipper and Mabel expected. Every time either of the twins approached their grunkle to ask about Gideon, he would suddenly need to run off to tend to a very important matter. It wasn't like Stan knew what they wanted to ask; the universe was just working against them for some reason. Each failed attempt left the twins frustrated, so frustrated that Mabel genuinely considered tying Stan to a chair to keep him from getting away. 

Dipper was horrified by the suggestion, mostly because Bill was all for it. 

"We. Are. Not. Doing. That," Dipper said firmly as Mabel crossed her arms in a pout. 

"If we can't keep him in one place, how are we going to ask him about Gideon?" 

"We... could try asking him at dinner?"

You've already done that.

Dipper threw his hands up in exasperation. "Can't you just try and help us for once instead of complaining and mocking us?"

Mabel's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I've never complained or mocked once- ooooh." Her confusion vanished like melting ice. "You're talking to him."

"Yes, and I wish he'd stop bothering me."

Then steal the journal and kick me out. Simple as that.

Dipper rubbed his temples in frustration. "You know what? We'll go with your idea, Mabel." He lay down on the floor, arms splayed out like he was about to make a snow angel. "Can't wait to have peace in my mind again." 

"KIDS!" Stan yelled from downstairs. "ONE OF THE TOILETS IS CLOGGED, AND I'M TOO LAZY TO DO IT MYSELF OR CALL SOOS. SO COME DOWN HERE AND BE MY CHILD LABOR SLAVES."

"Not me," Dipper said a full ten seconds before Mabel. He glanced at her questioningly because it was obvious Mabel had let him win that. 

Mabel blinked innocently. "What? I totally didn't lose that on purpose, Dip."

Well, that just confirmed it. "You're going to have unclog toilets, though," Dipper reminded her. 

Mabel stuck out her tongue in disgust and then remembered the reason why she had sacrificed herself in the first place. "Yeah, but I don't have a triangle in my head who would mock me the entire time." She dusted off her skirt before skipping to the door. "See you after my torture!" 

Dipper grunted in amusement as he heaved himself off the floor. No one would ever be as cheerful about unclogging toilets as Mabel. At least he could read some more. 

About ways to free me, right?

Dipper grinned evilly as he picked up one of his sister's cheesy romance novels. No, he wouldn't be reading to sate his curiosity or to entertain himself. 

About ways to free me, right? Bill's voice was filled with dread. 

Dipper could practically feel the demon trembling in terror as he began to read the romance novel. Halfway through the first sentence, he wanted to vomit. The overdramatic sappy language made him shudder in disgust, but it wasn't just affecting him; it was affecting Bill, too, and that was what Dipper was aiming for. Revenge. 

AGGH! OKAY, FINE, I'LL STOP INSULTING YOU AND QUESTIONING YOUR INTELLIGENCE JUST STOOOOP!

His yelling gave Dipper a very familiar headache, but he continued reading anyway, persevering despite the increasing urge to vomit or rip his eyes out. At least Bill had an obvious weakness. 

The twins attempted to talk to Stan during dinner, but yet again the second they tried to ask about Gideon he had to go do something else. Mabel suggested her idea again, and Dipper finally relented seeing as their current method was proving fruitless. They agreed to corner Stan in the morning and spent the rest of the night gathering the necessary materials. 

However, the universe refused to cease it's attack on their luck. Or so they thought. 

Dipper and Mabel's plan was to corner Stan and strap him to a chair. Instead, Stan cornered them and blindfolded them. 

"Ooo, what are we doing?" Mabel asked excitedly, clapping her hands together. The rope lay beside her, forgotten and abandoned. 

Dipper was less enthusiastic and tried to take off the blindfold, but Stan firmly pushed it back down with a disapproving tsk. 

"No seeing! This is going to be a surprise!" he said before dragging them to the car and, subsequently, their doom. 

As the car bumped into one too many trees and fences, Dipper asked, "Grunkle Stan, are you wearing a blindfold?" 

"Nope! But with these cataracts I might as well be!" Stan chirped. "What, is that a woodpecker?" 

Crack! The car drove straight through a wooden fence, sending splinters flying through the air. Dipper was shocked Stan hadn't killed them all yet with the way he was driving. 

If I die again because of this man, I will end the universe.

Stan soon parked and helped the blindfolded twins out of the car. With a flourish, he ripped off the pieces of cloth blocking their vision, and their eyes widened. 

"We're going fishing!" Stan declared dramatically. 

Before them was a glistening lake with dozens of boats floating on the surface. People fished on the banks and on the boats, and a small building sat near the lake; it must be where people bought their fishing supplies. After they had taken in the new location, Dipper and Mabel finally realized what Stan had said. 

They were going fishing. With an old man. Possibly for hours. 

Bill snickered in glee at Dipper's misfortune, and Dipper retaliated by picturing Bill getting flattened over and over by a giant book. A knowing smirk suddenly appeared on Mabel's face, and she turned Dipper around so they could whisper without Stan hearing. 

"Bro, this is the perfect opportunity to ask Stan about Gideon!" she exclaimed. 

Finally. The universe had granted them a favor. Dipper nodded in agreement, and the twins turned back to Stan, genuinely smiling in excitement. Stan was a bit disturbed by how eager they looked, but he shrugged it off and brought them to his boat. At the sight of the ragged old thing, Dipper hesitated. Going on that boat sounded like an actual death wish now. 

Oh, boy! Drowning!

Dipper gritted his teeth and mustered up every ounce of courage in his body. Stan had one foot in the boat when an old man rushed around the shore, screaming. He had a white beard so long it touched the ground, and his clothes were tattered and smudged with dirt. His eyes pointed in different directions, and his arms swung rapidly through the air. 

"I seen it! I seen it again!" he screamed. "The Gravity Falls Gobblewonker! Come quick before it scrabdoodles away!" He did a little jig. 

"Aww, he's doing a little happy jig!" Mabel cooed. 

"No! It's a jig of grave danger!" the old man shrieked. 

Get on the boat. Please. I can't stand listening to this man! Bill begged. 

Stan had stuffed earplugs into his ears and was lounging about in the boat, ignoring the old man now getting sprayed by another adult man. Dipper followed suit; the boat rocked as he moved in it, and he cringed at the creaking sound it made. 

"Is this thing safe?" he asked his grunkle, but Stan couldn't hear him due to his earplugs. Dipper stiffened as Mabel jumped into the boat with them, making the creaky contraption rock dangerously. Water splashed into the boat and onto Stan's face. He grumbled angrily before grasping the paddles at the bottom of the boat. 

The old man's yells grew quiet as Stan rowed them away from the shore. The lake rippled peacefully under them, and Dipper tried to ignore Bill's constant pestering about how he was definitely going to drown. Mabel was messing with a fishing pole and wrapping the line around her fingers. Stan parked the boat a good distance away from the shore in a less crowded spot in the lake. Mabel looked at Dipper, and he nodded. It was time. 

"Grunkle Stan, we have an important question to ask you," Mabel began, forcing a solemn expression. Dipper restrained himself from facepalming. Why was she beating around the bush? 

Stan only found Mabel's statement amusing. "Shoot," he said, spiking a worm on a fish hook. 

Thinking that Mabel had a big speech in store, Dipper cut her off before she could say anything. "Who's Gideon Gleeful?" Mabel raised an eyebrow questioningly, and Dipper shook his head, telling her not to speak. Stan would be suspicious if they had prior knowledge of Gideon, and they wanted to stay on his good side. 

Stan immediately reacted to the name; his face scrunched up in the most disgusted expression Dipper had ever seen on a human being. "Who told you about that brat?" he growled, sounding like he would punch the living daylights out of the culprit. 

"No one, we just saw an ad for him on a magazine once," Dipper lied smoothly. Mabel nodded in agreement, though she looked unhappy about lying. 

"Yeah, well, you don't really need to know about him," Stan said. He pierced a worm so violently that part of it ripped off, and Dipper wondered if he was imagining the worm as Gideon. 

The conversation seemed to be over, but Mabel wasn't about to give up yet. "Then I guess we'll just have to go see one of his shows if you're not going to tell us," she said, pouting. "Right, Dipper?"

"Right," Dipper agreed, mimicking his sister though his pout was less powerful. 

Stan looked affronted. "What's got you two so interested in him?" he asked, insulted. 

Dipper shuffled through what little he knew about Gideon. "We want to know if he has real magic." 

"Yeah! Can he really read people's minds? Please, Grunkle Stan, we have to know!" Mabel cried. Her desperation was so exaggerated that Dipper covered his eyes in embarrassment. 

Conflict arose in Stan's mind. His eyes flicked between the twins, debating whether or not he should submit to their curiosity. Mabel put on her best puppy face, and Stan's heart was won over. 

He sighed, clearly not thrilled to be talking about his rival. "No, he can't. He's a fake just like I'm a fake." His hands clenched. "Gideon Gleeful is the most annoying child on this planet, and that's saying something since all children are annoying- except you two." 

Mabel touched her heart. "Aw, we love you, too, Grunkle Stan," she gushed. 

Stan rolled his eyes, but the twins could see him hide the smile on his face. "That kid has the whole town wrapped around his finger, and he does everything in his power to make my life miserable. Always stealing the best parking spots, interfering with my profits, depriving me of customers, you name it!" 

Dipper mentally added this new information to the list of what he knew about Gideon. Stan saying that Gideon had the whole town wrapped around his finger was the most unnerving fact of them all, but Dipper would wait until they met him to judge his full capacity as a threat. It all depended on whether Gideon was a harmless annoyance or a harmful annoyance. Hopefully he was the former. 

"Do you know where he lives?" Dipper asked, going straight for the answer he and Mabel truly needed. 

"Yes, I always know where my enemies are," Stan said. "Why, do you want to go toilet paper his house? Because we should do that." 

"Eeeh, let's avoid the vandalism," Dipper said. 

Stan shook his head in disappointment. "Seriously, kid, why are you such a party pooper? It'd be better than fishing..."

Refusing to fall for the bait, Dipper shot back, "Fishing is better than getting arrested." 

"Hey, guys, it's Soos!" Mabel interrupted them before an argument could break out. 

The sounds of a motor approached them as a large white boat pulled up beside their small ancient one. The words "U.S.S Cool Dude" were painted in black on the white hull, and Soos stood above them on the deck, waving. 

"Hello, Mr. Pines, Dipper, Mabel!" Soos yelled, cupping his mouth to make his voice more audible. 

"Soos!" Mabel cried as their boat shook from the waves created by the U.S.S Cool Dude. "Save us! Our boat is about to fall apart!" 

"No, it isn't!" Stan denied. 

"Stan's right, it isn't," Dipper agreed even though he very much wanted to be on Soos' boat. 

"Are you going fishing, too?" Mabel asked as Soos stopped his boat beside theirs. 

"Just thought you'd like to know about the monster living on Scuttlebutt Island," Soos said. "Old Man McGucket was screaming about it." 

"McGucket is an old insane coot," Stan said dismissively. "I doubt that monster is real. 'Cause monsters aren't real." 

"But it would be an adventure!" Mabel's eyes sparkled with delight at the thought of an adventure. 

"I'd rather fish." Stan adjusted his fishing rod. "And if you three had any common sense, you'd agree with me." 

I'd say your chances of drowning are equal no matter what you choose.

Wow. So helpful. Thanks, Bill. 

You're welcome.

That was sarcasm. 

I was being sarcastic, too.

"Too bad!" Mabel's shout snapped Dipper out of his brief argument with his literal inner demon. His sister was pulling Stan to his feet with an alarming show of strength while Soos dropped down a ladder. Were they getting off the death trap that was whatever Stan called his boat? 

Stan struggled against Mabel and broke free of her grip, but Dipper slipped behind him, blocking the way out of their line. Stan paled, realizing he was trapped as Mabel tugged him after her onto the ladder. Dipper climbed after them, preventing Stan from getting off of the ladder. If he wanted to escape, he'd have to jump into his unstable boat, and Stan knew that was too big of a life threatening risk. His grunkle relented and followed Mabel onto Soos' boat. 

"Where'd you say the monster was again?" Dipper asked Soos as the man steered the boat in the direction opposite of the shore. 

"Scuttlebutt Island," Soos replied, unbothered by the name. 

Mabel and Stan snorted as soon as they heard it, and Dipper allowed a soft chuckle to escape him. It was such a silly name. 

"So we're just going to... look for a monster... and hope we don't die," Stan said, regretting having come to the lake at all. "If it's even real. Which it most likely isn't." 

Dipper walked to the helm of the ship and watched as a distant foggy island became clearer and clearer. The gnomes had been underwhelming in terms of the supernatural, and the situation with Bill was too terrifying to be excited about. But now Dipper let himself be excited and intrigued by the unknown creature they were searching for, and he took out his journal, flipping through it in search of a monster that lives in Gravity Falls Lake. He wondered if Bill knew what it was. 

I do. And no, I'm not going to tell you.

Dipper pretty much expected that, but he was disappointed nonetheless. Mabel joined him at the helm, and the twins admired the approaching island. 

"This summer is going to be great, Dipper," Mabel said as the wind blew through their hair. "I can feel it."

With the breeze smelling of tree sap and water and his sister by his side, Dipper could believe that. "It'll be the best one ever." And no dream demon would ruin it. 

"Solving mysteries and kicking monster butt! We're... drum roll please... The Mystery Twins!" Mabel exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air. 

"The Mystery Twins? Seriously?" Dipper's lips pursed as he tried to hide a smile. "Can't you think of a better name?" 

"Mystery Twins! Mystery Twins!" Mabel chanted, circling Dipper like she was a predator about to ensnare him in her grip. 

"What are you two yelling about over there?" Stan called from the other side of the boat. "You're going to make my ears bleed!" 

"Mabel's just being silly!" Dipper called back. 

Mabel recoiled, pretending to be hurt. "I am not!" she protested. "I'm about as serious as seriousness gets!" 

"You're calling us the Mystery Twins," Dipper said, looking her straight in the eye. 

"It's a good name! People will be talking about it for ages to come!" 

"While they're laughing at it." 

"Oh yeah? And what would you call us, Mister Smarty Pants?" 

"Good names can't be thought of on the spot. You have to take time in order to come up with the most legendary moniker." 

"Moniker? What's that?" 

"Another word for name."

"Ah. We're still going to be the Mystery Twins." 

"Nothing's going to stop you?"

"Nope!" 

"Not even if the entire town laughs at us?"

"They won't because it's a good name!" 

"Alright. I still don't like it." 

"Land ho!" Soos yelled, breaking into their talk. 

Dipper and Mabel whirled back around, gazing in amazement at the island that was only a few feet away from them. It was much less impressive up close, but it was covered in fog and had an uneasy feeling to it. The perfect place for a unknown monster to lurk in. Mabel vibrated excitedly while Dipper checked to make sure the journal was still in his pocket. Soos dropped the plank, and he and the Pines exited the boat, Stan grumbling about his back. 

Driftwood and underwater plants were strewn across the shore of the island, and the fog was surprisingly cool in the high temperature of summer. Nothing strange caught Dipper's eye, and he guessed the monster must live deeper in the island. Soos was adjusting his life jacket like it was armor, and Mabel was holding a pelican (how...?). Stan continued muttering about how the humidity was bad for his aching joints. Dipper decided it would be best if he took the lead in the operation. 

"Do you know if there's a pond on this island?" he asked Soos and Stan. 

"No, why?" Stan sounded suspicious and wary like he thought Dipper was going to make the group jump into it or something. 

"The monster might be an underwater creature, so our best bet would be to find a pond or a cave." Dipper had one hand on the journal; he was tempted to pull it out, but Stan was looking at him. His possession of the journal might end if Stan found out about it. 

"Or we could just go back to regular old fishing," Stan said. "Since monsters aren't real." His possession of the journal would definitely end if Stan found out about it. 

"No! You're helping the Mystery Twins discover the secrets of the world and unburying truths never before known by mankind!" Mabel cried. 

"Mystery Twins? Who came up with that?" Stan scoffed. 

"I did!" Mabel said proudly, not seeing the "I told you so" look from Dipper. She didn't seem offended at all by Stan's scorn. 

Stan immediately backpedaled. "I mean, great name, pumpkin! I've never heard anything more impressive in my life!" 

Mabel lit up like the brightest star at night, and Dipper raised an eyebrow at Stan. His grunkle shot him a glare, daring him to contradict. But Dipper refused to bring down his sister's mood. He took the lead in walking further into the island, though Mabel skipped right beside him soon enough. 

All they found was more dead trees, bushes, and fog. They found an abandoned ship that had looked like a monster and started getting excited over it. Stan swiftly crushed their ecstasy by pointing out that it was just a ship with a bunch of beavers on it. Dipper was clueless as to how Stan was the one who noticed and not the people with good eyesight. They moved on from the ship and investigated a cave they found. The cave was filled with water, a perfect spot for a lake dwelling monster. 

Dipper was so excited he squealed like a five year old girl. "This has to be it, guys!" he called, rushing to the edge of the giant pool of water. "The monster has to be here!" 

"Be careful, kid, you might fall in," Stan said in alarm. 

Dipper waved off his concern. "I'll be fine. Mabel's here to catch me."

Mabel puffed out her chest as she stood beside Dipper. "Lifeguard Mabel, ready for action!" 

A faint roar echoed across the cave halfway through her sentence. The group froze and looked out into the pitch black darkness of the further parts of the cave. Water rippled rapidly as something swam below the surface. A huge shadow rose out of the water, the clear liquid flying everywhere, and glowing eyes pierced through the dark. As cool as it was, Dipper's heart almost stopped from fear. Soos stepped protectively in front of Stan, who looked offended at the gesture. 

Mabel did the stupidest thing possible and threw a rock at it. 

This might be a bad time to mention it...

Dipper could hardly hear Bill as time seemed to slow with rock's arch through the air. The small gray pebble fell ever closer to the monster; the group collectively held their breath as the rock smacked the monster right in the nose. A soft clang resonated in the wide cave, and Dipper frowned. It sounded like the rock hit metal. The thought barely crossed his mind as the monster roared and jumped out of the water, fully intending to crush them. 

"Run!" Stan shouted, bolting away with surprising speed. With shrieks of terror, the twins and Soos darted after him. The monster gave chase, roaring so loud that rocks fell down from the ceiling. 

But the Gobblewonker is a robot.

The constant screams of fear made it impossible for Dipper to hear Bill. While they fled for their lives, Soos picked up pieces of debris and threw them at the monster. Each hit never even got the monster to slow down, and it only sped up. Dipper's sides were burning as the ship came in sight, and breathing was a struggle as they finally reached the ladder. Stan, who had earlier grumbled about his useless old man bones, climbed up the ladder with the agility of a squirrel, a feat that managed to catch Dipper's attention despite the monster on their tail; he immediately ran over to the steering wheel. Soos guarded Mabel and Dipper, brandishing a stick toward the monster. 

"If you want them, you'll have to get through me, dude!" he yelled. 

"Soos, c'mon!" Dipper called as soon as he was safe on deck. "We have to hurry!"

Soos tossed away the stick and hurried up the ladder. His feet had barely crossed the threshold when the twins motioned for Stan to speed the boat away. Stan nodded and turned the boat up to its highest speed. The boat shot off across the water, sending a trail of white foam behind it. The monster dove into the water to pursue them. 

"Guys, it went underwater!" Dipper called out a warning over the loud rushing of the wind blowing past the boat. 

"Fire the cannons! Shoot the harpoons!" Mabel screamed. "Kill it!" 

"On it, dude!" Soos said. His face paled. "Uh, bad news. We don't have any of those!" 

"Hold on tight!" Stan bellowed as he swerved the boat to avoid a couple of smaller boats. Their passengers cried out angrily as their peace was disturbed. Dipper and Mabel clung tightly to the railing of the ship, but Soos was not so lucky. He fell flat onto his face, though he quickly recovered and sat up. 

The monster's a robot. Bill repeated. 

Dipper's head shot up. His hands trembled in rage, and they squeezed the railing tighter. "What?" he yelled. "Why didn't you tell me that earlier?" 

"Who are you talking to, Dipper?" Stan shouted over the noise. 

"No one!" Dipper yelled back at the same time Mabel blurted, "What did he say?" 

"Is there a stowaway on board?" Soos asked as he was knocked over again. 

"He said the monster is a robot!" Dipper answered Mabel's question. 

Mabel's eyes burned with similar frustration. "So he just let us go on a wild goose chase?" she yelled. 

Yup. It was pretty funny.

"Bill. I am going to kill you," Dipper threatened, meaning every word of it. He said the threat quietly so only the triangle could hear. 

The monster suddenly reared out of the water, splashing water all over the deck. The passengers spluttered as water entered their respiratory systems, but Stan continued to push the boat as fast as it could go. People on the lake screamed at the sight of the monster, and there was a flurry of movement as people urgently rowed back to shore. 

"But if it's a robot, how's it going underwater?" Mabel asked, clinging to the rail tightly. 

"Waterproof electronics," Dipper replied grimly. "There's a chance we could disable it, though. We'd just have to get on it." 

He hadn't expected Mabel to take him seriously. He was wrong. As soon as she dragged him away from his safe spot, his stomach dropped. The monster was right behind the boat, close enough for them to jump onto. Mabel's grip on his wrist was iron tight, and Dipper realized there was no hope of escape for him. The monster robot struck out with its head, teeth sinking into the hard material of the deck. Wood flew through the air, and Dipper shielded his eyes from the sharp projectiles. Mabel took the chance and jumped onto its neck, bringing a screaming Dipper along with her. His feet slipped on the wet metal, but Mabel held strong and kept him from falling. 

PINE TREE. GET BACK ON DECK RIGHT NOW. I AM NOT DYING LIKE THIS.

"I think it's a bit early for us to die!" Dipper yelled at Mabel. 

"We won't die if we disable the robot!" Mabel pointed at the robot's swiveling head. Light glinted off the wet metal. Dipper squinted. Something was sticking up out of the robot's head. Was that a handle? He grabbed the edges of the metal plates and climbed up the robot. The soles of his shoes squeaked, and he almost slipped off once or twice. But Mabel was right behind him, ready to catch him if he fell. The robot was preparing for another strike as Dipper reached the handle. He twisted it as hard as he could, but the handle was tough and refused to budge. Mabel joined him, and together they spun the circular handle until the hatch opened. Panting, the twins looked down and saw the last thing they were expecting. 

Old Man McGucket's goggled eyes met theirs as his hands and feet worked tirelessly in pulling the controls of the robot. Dipper and Mabel's jaws were on the floor. The robot slowed to a halt as the old man realized he'd been caught.

"McGucket?" Dipper and Mabel cried in unison. Both of their eyes were wide with shock. 

"Aw fiddlesticks," McGucket moped. "I didn' mean no harm, honest! I just wanted my son to give me attention even if meant causing mass panic and a couple of unintentional murders!" 

Dipper was not amused. Neither was Bill. 

Kill him.

Dipper choked on his own saliva and started coughing madly. Mabel patted him comfortably on his back as he struggled to stop coughing. 

"What'd he say?" Mabel whispered. She was learning fast how to judge if Dipper was reacting to Bill. 

"He wants to kill McGucket," Dipper whispered back. The old man sat as still as a stone in his robot, oblivious to the conversation happening above him. 

"Bill!" Mabel gasped, her voice scolding. "We're not murdering anyone!" 

Tell her I don't care and that I'm justified seeing as we almost died.

"He says he doesn't care and thinks it's justified because we almost died," Dipper relayed the message. "We're still not killing him." Mabel nodded. 

"KIDS!" 

Stan's yell ripped the twins' attention away from McGucket. Their uncle was racing up the robot, panicked concern and anger raging in his eyes. The twins simultaneously gulped. They could tell they were in trouble. 

And trouble indeed they were in. Stan picked both of them up by the back of their shirts and began lecturing them. 

"What on Earth is wrong with you two? Why would you do something so stupid? I mean, don't get me wrong, it was awesome! But you almost gave me a heart attack! Imagine what I'd have to say to your parents if I sent them home a couple of corpses! They'd put me in jail! So never do a trick like that again, you hear me?" He shook them hard to force them into agreement. 

"We hear you," Dipper and Mabel obediently said. It was highly unlikely they could keep their word; this was the second time they'd been in a life or death situation. 

Stan set them down and tugged them close, squeezing them tightly. Mabel grinned so widely it was amazing her face didn't split open, and she hugged Stan back. Dipper took several moments to catch his breath before he could awkwardly pat his grunkle on the back. McGucket watched the hug creepily from the hatch with only his eyes peering out. Stan gave him a death glare, silently promising to punch the old man in the face. McGucket did not get the message but went back down anyway. 

The family and Soos drove back to Mystery Shack in silence, still recovering from the near death experience. Well, it was silent for everyone except Dipper. Bill was giving him a fierce lecture about how he could kill himself after the triangle had left his mind. Dipper was only half-listening; he had found a piece of paper and a pen and was conversing with Mabel about how irritating Bill was on it. The triangle, too busy calling Dipper an idiot, did not notice. 

But the Mystery Twins- that name still sucked- were ready. It was time to get that second journal. 

"Borrow it," Mabel corrected that night as they got into bed. 

And then Bill would be nothing more than a bad memory. 

All I've done is complain and sulk. Trust me, I could've made your life hell if I wanted.

Dipper forcefully reminded him that he needed sleep for their mission, and Bill stopped whining about being more dangerous than he seemed. Journal 2 would be in their hands in no time.

Chapter Text

The Tent of Telepathy was larger than Dipper had expected. Given that it's main star was a child, he hadn't expected it to be so big or popular. But when he, Mabel, and Soos arrived at the tent, they discovered the longest line Dipper had ever seen in Gravity Falls. The group joined the line apprehensively, not excited about the long wait the line entailed. Fortunately Stan was occupied with other things so there was no way he would catch the twins doing something they weren't supposed to. Stan had forbidden them from going to Gideon's show when they brought the idea up to him again, so they went to Soos and immediately got what they asked for without the slightest bit of hesitation. Soos was like a blessing from heaven, and the twins couldn't love him more. 

The staff of the show were actually very efficient; they must be used to large turnouts. People streamed inside like fish attracted to bait, and more people were joining the line behind Dipper, Mabel, and Soos. Mabel and Soos were animatedly chatting about Gideon while Dipper went over the plan in his head. He and Mabel would talk to Gideon after the show and express interest in getting to know him. Hopefully Gideon was friendly because being friends was the only reasonable excuse to go into his house. Obviously solely relying on chance was a bad idea, so during the show Dipper would sneak backstage and snoop around in case Journal 2 was around. The worst possibility was that Gideon carried his journal around like Dipper did his, which was a case the twins couldn't make any socially acceptable solutions for.

Soos handed their tickets to the large man standing at the entrance to the tent. He wore a pink Hawaiian shirt and a straw hat, and he looked at Soos judgmentally. His smile was thin and forced as Soos and the twins passed to get into the tent. Clearly he recognized Soos as Stan's employee and was wary of their presence. Dipper's palms dripped with sweat from anxiety, and he held onto Mabel's hand, needing an anchor to keep himself from panicking. 

The Tent was filled with long wooden rows that were the seats, and a small stage shrouded by a blue curtain stood in view across the room. Dipper scanned the room, looking for any way to get backstage. If he had to get onstage to go back, Plan A was screwed and it was time for Plan B. He sat down next to Mabel on the hard wooden bench and tried his best to get comfortable. Comfort was impossible on these seats, though, and he settled for suffering. Mabel shoved her face full of popcorn as flocks of people walked into the tent. Almost half the town came. Dipper's leg began bouncing up and down, a visible sign of nerves. He needed to calm down. He needed to focus.

The lights turned off; pitch darkness filled the entire tent. Dipper tensed, knowing the show was about to begin. Mabel had frozen with a hand just about to deposit popcorn into her mouth; her wide eyes focused on the stage as her hand dangled in midair. A spotlight switched on, and a long shadow appeared on the curtains. Was that Gideon? Dipper felt kind of intimidated by the shadow's broad stature. Then the blue curtains parted, revealing a tiny child wearing a blue vest and white cape. Most of his size came from his large white hair sticking out of the top of his head. 

This kid looks ridiculous, Dipper thought to himself. Bill burst out laughing. 

"Hello, America!" the tiny child greeted the audience. His voice had a country twang to it, and it was not as high pitched as Dipper expected it would be. "My name is Little Gideon." He clapped his hands, and a bunch of doves flew out of his hair in perfect sync. The audience went wild, cheering and clapping in awe. 

Dipper was not impressed. "That's Stan's mortal enemy?" He questioned Stan's taste in rivals. 

"But he's so wittle!" Mabel said through a mouthful of popcorn. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is such a gift to have you here tonight! Such a gift! I have a vision- I predict that you'll all say awww!" Gideon turned around and quickly turned back, making the most demonic cute face Dipper had ever seen. It was so horrifying that Dipper scooted away a little in his seat. 

The audience awwed. Gideon clearly understood his audience to a tee. 

"It came true!" Mabel gasped. 

She believed that? Wow, Shooting Star's dumber than I thought.

"Hit it, Dad!" Gideon called to the same guy from outside standing in front of a piano. His dad obeyed, striking up a cheerful tune on his piano. Gideon began to tap his feet and threw off his cape. A person in the bench in front of them caught it, and other people immediately tackled her and fought to take hold of it. 

The fact that the people of Gravity Falls were that obsessed with a child was concerning and uncomfortable. 

Gideon started singing, and Bill urged Dipper to leave. Dipper gladly took the suggestion, slipping out of his seat and sneaking down the side aisles. Mabel and Soos were transfixed on the show along with everyone else in the crowd, and Dipper ducked out of the tent. Alright. He did it. Now to find out where the backstage area was. Dirt crunched beneath his sneakers as he moved around the edge of the tent. A large trailer parked behind it caught his eye, and he walked up to it. It was painted blue and had Gideon's face on it, so it must belong to him. He spotted the door leading inside and opened it, wondering why Gideon hadn't locked it. 

The inside of the trailer was blindingly pink. Dipper took a few moments to gather his bearings and remind himself that he was not in Mabel's room. Racks of clothing lined the walls of the trailer, and there was a large vanity in the back. Dipper headed toward it, guessing that the trailer was Gideon's dressing room. Surely the vanity would have his stuff. 

The vanity itself had an array of makeup and hair products, which Dipper completely ignored. They looked very fancy and Mabel would have gone nuts over them, but he didn't want to steal anything else. The journal was obviously not on top of the vanity. Dipper opened the drawers of it and rummaged through them, pushing aside even more hair products. The drawer wielded nothing, so he moved on to the bottom drawer. This one was completely empty. 

Maybe he hid it under his costumes? The clothes rustled loudly as Dipper pushed them around, and he tensed at the amount of noise he was making. Every few seconds he shot glances at the door, hoping that the show hadn't ended yet. If Gideon caught him in here, Plan B would be toast. 

But no journal presented itself, and Dipper left the trailer without getting caught. He ducked behind a tree nearby and considered where else in the tent Gideon could hide the journal. 

Just break into his house and steal it.

"I already made it clear we're not doing that!" Dipper snapped, annoyed and frustrated by the lack of success. 

You're already trying to steal it. Why not break one more law? Actually, I'm pretty sure you've already broken the one about trespassing.

"Shut up!" Dipper huffed. Angry, he prepared to go back into the tent and find some way to sneak behind the stage. He could sneak back there after the show and hope Gideon wouldn't see him or leave the stage. 

When he went around to the front of the tent, the crowd of people inside was pouring out. Mabel and Soos hung around near the entrance, waiting for him. He went over to them. 

"Did you find it?" Mabel asked. 

Dipper shook his head. "It might be backstage or he might have it on him. But it isn't in his dressing room." 

"Do you want me to be a distraction?" Soos asked. "I can pretend to be a space monkey invading the planet for bananas." 

"No, I doubt it's backstage if it isn't in his trailer," Dipper said. His shoulders slumped. "I guess we'll have to go with Plan B," he sighed, not really looking forward to hanging around that kid. He didn't trust him. 

You shouldn't! Gideon is more dangerous than he seems... Of course I'm a thousand times more dangerous than that little brat.

Mabel draped an arm around his shoulders and gave him a one-sided hug. "It's okay, bro-bro. We'll get that journal in no time at all!" 

Dipper smiled. "Thanks, sis." 

Soos cupped his cheeks and awwed loudly. The twins walked down the path with Soos, laughing and joking and completely unaware of the shadow watching from the entrance of the tent, his gaze firmly locked on Mabel's retreating back. 

___

Dipper skimmed the journal again in the hopes of finding a clue to Journal 1's location because he was curious about it. He was curled up comfortably on the living room chair, enjoying the plush striped yellow cushion. Good reading chairs were hard to come by, and he was glad Stan had one. Mabel leaned against the chair below him, flicking through channels restlessly. The twins had been on edge since the day before, when they had gone to Gideon's show. Two hours after they'd gotten home from the show, the news had reported that someone had broken into Gideon's dressing room and rummaged through his things. Nothing was stolen, obviously, but the news said Gideon wanted to catch the culprit either way. Dipper was worried that they might figure out it was him who had broken in, and Mabel had tried her best to reassure him. Still, fear set them on edge, and they were reconsidering their initial plan of befriending him. 

Dipper was reading a page with a tree on it and was quite puzzled by it. The page said something about a secret bunker, but the author hadn't written down or drawn how to get in. Mabel had finally settled on a channel, and the noise washed over them. Dipper tuned the TV out, focusing on the tree. It could make for a great place to hide a journal. 

The doorbell rang, snapping Dipper out of his reading trance. 

"I'll get it!" Mabel sprang to her feet and raced to the door. Dipper returned to his journal, his eyes glued to the pages. They were full of so much detail that he couldn't stop reading! 

Pine Tree. I'm bored.

Then be bored. I'm busy. Dipper flipped a page. 

You're not going to find anything in there. It's a waste of time. 

And sitting here staring at the ceiling isn't? Dipper replied.

Cut the sass, kid. Now, if I remember correctly, Gideon won't be at home for most of today.

"No. How many times do I have to say it?" Dipper sucked in a breath of frustration. "I'm. Not. Breaking. Into. Gideon's. House." 

"Breaking into Gideon's house? Heck yeah!" Stan cheered. Dipper yelled in fright at his sudden appearance and stuffed his journal deep into the cushion before Stan could see it. "Anyway, Dipper, are you talking to yourself?" 

Dipper pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his heart pound way too fast under his palm. Stan's question sparked his nerves, and he quickly stammered, "Y-yeah... Just talking to myself... Heh." 

Stan leaned against the empty doorframe, soda can in hand. "Look, kid, as much as I hate Gideon, I don't think you should break into his house." His expression was solemn.

"You're right, I shouldn't." Dipper put extra emphasis on the last two words to fully grind it into Bill that it was something he was not okay with doing. 

A grin split across Stan's face. "Ha! I was just joking, kid. Of course you should break in! And I'm coming with you!" 

Dipper paled in alarm. "What? No! We're not doing that! We're not breaking in anywhere!" Stop laughing! he snapped at Bill, who was laughing loudly. 

Stan chugged the rest of his soda and wiped moisture off of his mouth. "Too bad! I say we're breaking in, so that's what we're going to do! It'll be another family bonding experience. Speaking of family, where's your sister?" 

Dipper crossed his arms and glared at Stan. His grunkle only smiled in amusement. 

"Come on, kid, what type of uncle would I be if I didn't encourage you to break the law and commit crimes?" 

"A terrible one," Dipper said matter-of-factly. 

Stan wagged a finger. "Wrong! I'd be a fun one!" He looked over his shoulder and called, "Mabel! Mabel, get your glittery butt over here! You, me, and Dipper are going to commit crimes!" 

Silence met his call. "Okay, I guess it's just you and me, Dipper," Stan said, his head swiveling back to look at Dipper... who was no longer there. "Yeesh, kids these days. I would have jumped at the chance to break the law when I was 12!" 

Dipper paused in the middle of the stairs, catching his breath. He had escaped! He let himself into the attic and collapsed onto his bed. Rolling onto his back, he pulled out his journal. It had been tough slipping it out of the cushions with Stan directly in front of him, but he had done it. He tucked the journal under his pillow and took up another book, deciding it would be best if he took a break. 

No, it would be best if you stole Journal 2.

"We'll get it eventually," Dipper hissed through gritted teeth. "Can you please let me relax for once? This won't be forever." 

You just want your sister to be with you when you steal it so you're stalling until she comes back. Like a coward.

Dipper spluttered protests, but the triangle persisted. 

You can't lie to me, Pine Tree. Not when I'm in your mind and can hear all of your thoughts.

Dipper fought back anger and buried his nose into his book. "Just leave me alone."

After a couple of hours of relaxed reading, two long, sharp red nails poked over the top of Dipper's book. Dipper dropped the book in surprise and came face to face with a blurry bunch of makeup. Backing away, his vision refocused, and he realized that it was Mabel. Her hair had been curled and topped with a red bow, and her lips and eyes were painted in garish bright colors. Dipper's mouth dropped open, and not in a good way. 

"Don't I look beautiful?" Mabel flipped her hair and batted her fake eyelashes. 

"You look like a wolverine," Dipper said honestly. He held his book up protectively, not trusting those nails. 

"Yeah, these nails are looong!" Mabel swiped the air with her claw-nails. "Grrrr!" 

Dipper suddenly realized he hadn't seen his sister since she had gone to answer the door. "By the way, where have you been? You've been gone all day." 

Mabel struck a proud pose. "Guess what, bro?" she asked excitedly. 

Dipper thought about all the possible crazy things Mabel could have gotten up to without him knowing. "You got a date with a vampire?" 

"Nope! Guess again!" 

"You ate a glue stick whole?" 

"Nuh-uh!" 

"You found Journal 2?" 

"Close!" Mabel threw a handful of glitter in the air and exclaimed, "I'm friends with Gideon!" 

Dipper sat up, his interest in the conversation increased tenfold. "Really?" 

"Really!" 

Dipper was so excited he jumped off the bed and started pacing. "Oh my goodness, Mabel, this is fantastic! Our chances of getting Journal 2 have just gone from unlikely to likely! Did you hear that, Bill? You'll be able to leave soon!" 

Woah, slow down. We don't know for certain that summoning me will work. Bill cautioned. 

"I'm thinking of going to his house after we get to know each other a little more," Mabel said, playing with the bow in her hair. "I don't want him to think I'm using him. Which I'm not. I'm his friend because he likes girl stuff. Got that, Bill?" 

Dipper looked at her oddly. "Since when did he imply that?" he asked, running through the times Bill had spoken. He couldn't remember ever relaying a message like that. 

I never said that.

"He's probably thinking it, though," Mabel pointed out. 

Dipper crossed his arms and inquired Bill if that was true. Judging by his silence in response to the question, it was. "He's an idiot if he thinks you would take advantage of people like that," he said. "Just for the record, though, I don't trust Gideon." 

"What? Why not?" 

"Because he's weird, and in a possibly-dangerous-way than a he's-a-silly-little-guy way." 

"Whatever." Mabel wiped the lipstick off and licked it. "I can focus on being friends with him while you worry about the journal." 

"Still, you should be careful." Dipper took out Journal 3 and opened it, ready to start researching again. "Who knows what secrets Gideon has been able to find with his journal..." 

___

When Mabel came back after a hangout with Gideon with the reveal that he had asked her out, Dipper hadn't believed his luck. Mabel and Gideon dating was a perfect way to get into his house! He cautioned Mabel not to lead the boy on, and she brushed off the warning without a care in the world. Dipper remained apprehensive, hoping that Gideon wouldn't be like other guys in this case. Because if he was and he pressured Mabel into dating him when she didn't want to, Dipper and him would have some words. 

Sitting on the cashier counter in the gift shop, Dipper thought he would have to wait until he got an opportunity to search Gideon's house for the journal. People were talking in clusters in the gift shop, whispering about something. Dipper strained to catch what they were saying, but the whispers were too soft and remained out of earshot. 

Stan suddenly stormed into the gift shop, dressed in his suit and holding his cane like a weapon. "What's that little psychic punk doing dating my niece?" he demanded the room angrily. What? How did he find out?

"I don't know, I didn't hear about it!" Dipper automatically defended his sister. "And besides, I told her not to!"

"Oh, yeah, it's like a big deal," Wendy said, scrolling through her phone. "Everybody's talking about Gideon and Mabel's big date tonight."

"I wonder what the new name will be for the power couple." Soos held a magazine with Gideon and Mabel on it. How on Earth did they print that so fast? She'd been gone for only two hours! "Mabideon? Gideable? Oooo! Magidbeleon!" 

Stan growled angrily. "That's it! I'm having a talk with Bud Gleeful." He marched to the door. "I refuse to let the pipsqueak get his grubby hands on my niece!" 

Go with him. You have to go with him!

Dipper had also seen the opportunity and rushed after Stan. "Wait! Grunkle Stan! I'll come with you!" 

Stan paused, door half open. "Do you promise to trash the place and have no regrets no matter who threatens you?" 

"I promise!" 

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go!" Stan stomped out of the door, Dipper trailing awkwardly behind him. The two of them climbed into the car, and Dipper suffered through another trip of trying his hardest not to vomit. Stan really needed to drive better. 

Remember what you're going to do when we get there?

Excuse myself and find Gideon's room. That was the part most likely to fail. 

And then...?

I look for his journal. If I find it, I do my best to make it look like no one was there.

No, you leave it trashed.

If I leave it trashed, they might suspect that I was the one who broke into the trailer. Dipper urged Bill to be serious. 

And what do you do after you leave his room trashed? Bill continued drilling him as if nothing was wrong with his previous point. 

I go back to Stan and pretend like nothing happened. And then Mabel and I summon you, and you can say goodbye to us forever.

Really sad to see me go, aren't you?

Stan parked in front of a house. It was painted white and had a sign with Gideon's face plastered on it in the front yard. Dipper followed Stan up to the door. A sign that read "pardon the garden" hung below the window. 

"I will pardon nothing!" Stan yelled, smacking the sign off of the door. It clattered to ground, and Dipper glared disapprovingly at his grunkle. If they lost favor with Gideon's parents, he would lose an opportunity to nab the journal. 

The door opened, and Gideon's dad appeared in the doorway. His eyes were narrowed. Dipper became all too aware of his horrible posture and straightened. Bud Gleeful' s gaze flicked down to Dipper, and his eyes widened in surprise. 

"Why, Stanford, who's this? Your nephew?" 

"Um, yes?" Stan, caught off guard by the question, accidentally phrased his answer as a question. 

Dipper blushed in embarrassment. "My name is Dipper," he said, sticking out his hand for Bud to shake. 

"My, such manners! You've got a nice nephew, Stan." Bud shook Dipper's hand and gave him a very fake smile. Dipper returned it with an equally fake one. Bud focused back on Stan. "Now, why don't you come inside? We've got some things to discuss regarding Gideon and Mabel."

Stan recovered from his surprise and aggressively pointed at Bud. "Yeah... and I disapprove of it!" 

Dipper ignored the budding argument between the two adults and headed into the house. The floor and walls were colored a nice lavender, and the house had a fresh pleasant smell to it. It was much more cozy than the Shack, though it didn't have the same lived-in feel. As Stan and Bud entered the living room, Dipper busied himself with pouring water into a glass in the kitchen. From the sound of their voices, it seemed the conversation had taken a more friendly path. Good. Dipper wanted to take a peek in Gideon's room before Stan got them kicked out. 

The house was two stories, and Dipper assumed the bedrooms would be on the top story. Carefully climbing them, Dipper listened to the conversation still going on in the living room. Faintly he heard the sound of a cash register and wondered if he was hearing things. Stan and Bud were still conversing, and they probably hadn't noticed him missing. Dipper arrived at the top of the staircase without stepping on any creaky steps, and he grinned victoriously and pumped the air with his fist triumphantly. 

The upstairs floor was carpeted, but Dipper took off his shoes regardless. Tracking mud everywhere would not end well. The carpet was soft and fuzzy, and Dipper enjoyed the sensations through his socks. Grasping the doorknob to the first room he came across, Dipper held his breath and prayed that the door wouldn't squeak. He cautiously opened it a crack and peeked inside. The neat, organized room he could see definitely did not belong to Gideon. He probably owned a vanity if his hair was any indication. How he could stand wearing it like that 24/7, Dipper didn't know. He shut the door as quietly as he could and moved on to the next. There were only three rooms in the hallway, so his chances that the next room was Gideon's were high. He repeated the same procedure after listening for the sound of talking from downstairs. He peeked inside the room and almost shrieked in excitement as he spotted a rectangular object the size of Journal 3 on a vanity. So Gideon did have a vanity. Dipper was about ready to fling open the door and run inside, but Bill's voice stopped him before he could give into the impulse. 

Stay cautious, Pine Tree. They could finish at any moment.

Thanks, Dipper thought back. He opened the door just enough for him to slip inside, his eyes still glued to the journal. It was here. It was here! His hands tingled with the desire to hold it, to feel its rough cover under his fingers and the old dusty pages holding secrets unheard of. He walked slowly over to the vanity, his throat tight. The golden hand on the cover glinted in the light coming from the door behind him. Dipper brushed a finger over the sticker, staring at the black 2 drawn on it. Journal 2. He'd found it. He picked it up and tucked it reverently next to Journal 3 in his vest. A huge smile on his face, Dipper carefully exited the room and put his shoes on. He returned downstairs to discover that Stan and Bud were discussing using Gideon and Mabel's relationship as an excuse to bond their brands and increase their profits. Dipper couldn't care less. He had Journal 2! No more Bill! 

I can hear that. Respect my feelings, Pine Tree. 

No. Dipper took a seat in a chair beside Stan, resisting the impulse to grab Journal 2 and flip through it. He wanted to see with his own eyes the instructions to summon Bill. Relief swelled like a balloon in his heart. Exorcism may not have worked, but summoning him definitely would. Dipper's imagination floated to cloud nine, picturing the fun he and Mabel would have once Bill was out of the picture. No more worrying about a demon. He couldn't believe it had been less than a month. 

Seriously. Save it for later. Or else I'll insult you back.

Dipper was too relieved to care as he and Stan left the Gleeful residence and drove back to the Shack. Why should he when Bill wouldn't be around to feel insulted?

___

Dipper practically skipped into the living room, radiating excitement. He held Journal 2 behind his back as he walked up to Mabel, who was sitting in front of the fish tank. She was staring morosely at a lobster inside. 

"So how'd it go?" Dipper asked, referring to her date with Gideon. 

"Fine, I guess... I have a lobster now," Mabel sighed. 

Her voice was full of anxiety and trouble, and Dipper's excitement faded to the background a bit. "Look on the bright side. You'll never have to date him again!" 

Mabel placed a finger against the glass of the fish tank, watching the lobster swim around. Dipper narrowed his eyes. 

"Mabel, this was the only date, right?" 

Mabel made a noise of frustration and spun around. "I was trying to tell him I only see him as a friend, but... But!" She covered her eyes with her hands and groaned. "I couldn't say no!" 

Pine Tree. The journal.

"Soooo... Stan and I went over to Gideon's house," Dipper said. Mabel slumped to the floor and covered her head. "No- wait, don't go into sweater town! I found Journal 2!" He held up the journal proudly. 

Mabel pulled her sweater down, all traces of her troubles gone. "You found it?" she gasped, grinning in excitement. 

Dipper nodded, and Mabel jumped to her feet with a squeal. Grabbing his hands, she spun him around singing, "Bill, Bill, go away! Come again another day!" 

"Or never," Dipper muttered under his breath. The world was tilting around him, making his head hurt. "Mabel, I'm excited, too, but could you stop?" 

Mabel laughed and let go, and Dipper stumbled to a halt. He picked up Journal 2 and placed it in his pocket again. Man, his jacket was heavy now. 

"Should we do it in the attic again?" Mabel asked, wringing the sleeve of her sweater in her hands. Her eyes held excitement and nervousness. 

"Attic or somewhere else?" Dipper asked Bill. 

Eh, you can do it in the attic. Location isn't important.

"We can do it in the attic," Dipper told his sister. 

Trembling with anticipation, the twins ran upstairs to the attic. The second Mabel closed the door Dipper flipped through Journal 2 at a rapid pace, trying to find the instructions on how to summon Bill. He stopped at it and read them carefully. Fortunately, it didn't seem like there were too many risks in summoning Bill. 

"We need candles again," he said. "And do you have chalk?" 

"Of course!" Mabel dove into her pile of stuff and rummaged around for a few seconds. Dipper waited patiently as stuffed animals, jars of glitter, and paper flew through the air. Mabel straightened up and proudly help up a bright pink piece of chalk. "What do I need to draw?" 

"This." Dipper gave her Journal 2. Mabel eyed the picture for a bit, planning how she would draw it. Dipper left her to it and went downstairs to grab the candles. They were sitting, abandoned in the same place they were last time. Dipper shoved them into his pocket and turned around to go back to the attic. And screamed. 

"Yeesh, kid, I'm not that terrifying," Stan said. He was in an undershirt and shorts, and he was standing right behind Dipper. 

Dipper laughed nervously. "Sorry. You just startled me." 

Stan stepped out of his way and walked off. Dipper thanked whoever was listening that Stan didn't question the candles in his hand. He rushed back to the attic and found that Mabel was busy sketching the summoning circle. He reviewed the instructions again in fear that they might mess something up. Mabel finished the drawing, and the twins set up the candles. Like last time, Mabel would recite the spell, so Dipper stood in front of the door. If anyone tried to come in, he would stop them. 

Mabel's hands gripped the journal so tightly the pages wrinkled. Her posture was tense as she stood in front of the summoning circle. Dipper chewed on his nails, unable to keep the fear and worry stifled. Please let it work. Please let it work. 

If this works, see you never!

"It will work," Dipper whispered. "It has to..." 

"Triangulum, entangulum," Mabel read from the journal. "Veneforis dominus ventium. Veneforis venetisarium." 

Dipper leaned against the door, feeling like he was going to collapse from the nerves. This wouldn't hurt Mabel, right? He bit his lip so hard he tasted blood as Mabel suddenly convulsed and fell to her knees. Alarm coursed through him. 

"Mabel!" he cried. 

Chill out! She'll be fine!

Praying that Bill was right, Dipper forced himself to stay by the door as Mabel started chanting something that didn't sound like words. As she chanted, a weird sensation tingled through his body. The room drained of color around him, and the sensation grew worse. He couldn't place what it felt like... It was... It was just weird... His vision grew blurry, and his head spun for a few seconds. His stomach lurched in fear, and suddenly the nervous pit in his gut and the weakness in his limbs was gone. He opened his eyes and found himself staring at pink lines drawn in the floor. Startled, he sat up. He was in the summoning circle, surrounded by the candles whose flames were frozen. Mabel was staring, mouth open, at the air above him. 

"D-did it work?" he asked, getting to his feet. He looked up to where Mabel was staring. Bill was floating above him, top hat and everything. But there was something new. A strange wispy chain was wrapped around Bill's wrist. Dipper followed the chain to see it where it ended, and he stiffened as his eyes landed on his own wrist. A tiny band the same material as the chain was clamped around his wrist, and it was connected to the chain. 

Bill's eye twitched. "Is this some kind of joke? What is this thing?" He pulled at the chain, turning a bright angry red. "WHO DID THIS?" 

The twins flinched as his deep voice echoed around the room. Mabel cautiously stepped over the candles and crouched beside her brother. Her hands shook as she tried to grab the band around his wrist. Dipper's heart sank as her fingers passed through the wispy chain like it was nothing. Mabel let out a cry of frustration and attempted to push it off, but her hands merely phased through it again. Dipper tried to help her to no avail. Whatever the chain was, it wasn't coming off. Mabel spun and grabbed Bill's arm. The triangle threw her away from him, and she crashed to the floor a few feet away. 

"Mabel!" Dipper cried, running to his sister. 

She got to her feet, unharmed but angry. "What was that for?" she yelled at Bill. 

Bill crossed his arms. "Ever heard of personal space, kid?" 

"You didn't need to throw me!" Mabel's face was red, and her eyes were wet. Dipper knew, though, that it wasn't because of the fall. 

"You can't get hurt in the Mindscape," Bill said. "Give me a second... Need to test if this chain is actually real..." He flew backwards before Dipper and Mabel could react, aiming for the window. Just before he reached it, the chain forced him to a halt, extending as far as it could go. Bill narrowed his eye and used the edge of the window to pull himself as far as he could. The effort didn't even so much as put strain on the chain, and all it did was make Dipper fall to the ground. 

"Can-can't you take it off?" Mabel asked Bill, hoping that he would have better luck than the twins. 

Bill scoffed. "I already tried. It won't come off." He fell silent for a moment. "Picture it falling apart." 

Dipper and Mabel shared a confused glance but did as he said. They imagined the chain snapping in half and disappearing in a whoosh of smoke. They imagined the wisps melting into the floor as the chain hit the ground...

"Oh, come on!" Bill cried in frustration. Dipper looked down, and sure enough the chain was still there. "How is this not working?" He snapped his fingers several times, but nothing happened. 

"It-it didn't work, did it?" Dipper mumbled, his nerves beginning to tingle with disappointment and a foreign harsh emotion. 

Bill floated around in circles, agitated. "You've got to be kidding me. I'm stuck in a child's mind! Why is the universe so cruel?" 

"Dipper?" Mabel looked at him in concern. "It's-it's going to be okay, okay? We-we can find a solu-"

"IT'S NOT OKAY!" Dipper and Bill yelled at the same time. 

"I don't want him here! I want him gone!" Dipper snapped, tears streaming out of his eyes. Rage was swirling through him like a storm, and he didn't understand why he felt so angry. He was so mad he wanted to end the universe for being so unfair to him and messing up everything he planned for! 

Mabel stepped back, shocked. Dipper clamped his hands over his mouth, equally shocked at bursting out like that. 

"I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean to yell." He hurried to apologize, his anger dying away to be replaced by guilt. 

Suddenly color seeped back into the room, and Dipper was back by the door again. What? Mabel was back in her original position in front of the candles, and Bill was nowhere to be seen. Dipper went over to Mabel, questioning what the heck just happened. 

"Were we asleep?" Mabel wondered. 

Yes... You were...

At the sound of Bill's voice still in his head, Dipper slumped to the floor. He buried his head in his knees and tried to keep himself from crying, which ultimately failed. He was acting like such a little kid. But wasn't that what he was? A kid shouldn't have to deal with a demon stuck in their head. Mabel laid down next to him and let him cry on her shoulder. They stayed like that for a while, indulging their disappointment and failure, completely oblivious to what was to come to pass in the next few days.

Chapter Text

"You've got this, Mabel," Mabel whispered to herself as she walked down the sidewalk toward Gideon's house. "All it takes is a no. Then you and Gideon can go back to being makeup buddies!" Her arms tightened around the journal she clutched to her chest. 

It was the day after her and Dipper's attempt to summon Bill. Could it really be called an attempt when it had worked? Well, it hadn't really worked. They'd been wanting to kick Bill out, but that weird chain thing had stopped him. What had that thing been anyway? And why was it on her brother? Mabel's heart ached for Dipper. It wasn't fair, what he was going through. She had noticed at breakfast that his eyes had bags under them, and he had looked pale. Was he getting sick again? Mabel skidded to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk, gasping in horror. 

What if he was sick again? She wouldn't be there to help him! Mabel glanced in the direction of the Mystery Shack and back to Gideon's house, which was just around the corner. If she checked on Dipper, she would miss her date with Gideon. Not that that was a bad thing, it would just be mean to ditch him like that. Mabel dug her nails into Journal 2's cover, the agonizing decision hanging over her head. Dipper would want her to go to Gideon's, she knew that, but she didn't want to leave her brother to suffer! But if Dipper was fine then she would have abandoned Gideon for nothing! 

Mabel smacked her cheek. "Dipper is okay," she said. "Stan is there, and Soos and Wendy. They'll watch out for him." The image of Dipper nearly collapsing their first day in Gravity Falls forced its way into her mind, and she shuddered. The memory made it harder for her to continue on to Gideon's house, and every step felt like a heavy load of bricks. 

The neat little house seemed to creep up on her. It took almost no time to get there, yet it felt like an eternity had passed. It was time to face the chubby beast again. If only she could say no. Mabel stuffed Journal 2 into the mailbox, glad to see it gone. It was a physical reminder of last night, and Mabel wanted to forget what she had seen. She wanted to forget what it meant. 

The journal gone, Mabel stepped up to the door and knocked. It opened to reveal a stressed out Gideon. His usually well-kept hair was a mess, strands poking out from the tower that was his hair. Mabel avoided his gaze, feeling guilty. It was her and Dipper's fault for stealing the journal and causing Gideon to stress out. Gideon brightened when he saw who was at the door. 

"Mabel, my marshmallow! Ah, you look as beautiful as always!" He sighed dreamily as he gazed at her purple sweater. 

Mabel laughed a fake, strained laugh. "How are you, Gideon?" 

Gideon's smile faded a little, but he waved it off. "Just peachy! What about you, my sweet?" 

Ugh, the pet names. They gave Mabel the bejeebs. "Greeaaat," she forced out. Horrible. She was doing horrible. She wished she had a magic wand to magic her problems away. 

Gideon took her hand, and Mabel fought back the urge to snatch it away. Be nice, Mabel. He'll think you're rude if you let him down aggressively . 

The dance party they went to was nice, and Mabel assumed the night would end there. Halfway through the party, and she was itching to go home and check on Dipper. The more she thought about how he looked that morning, the more convinced she became that he was not well. She needed to see if he was okay! But she needed to reject Gideon first. Dipper would be happy if she brought him good news. 

After the party had finished, Gideon took her hand in his again and brought her to the lake. Mabel mechanically slipped on the life jacket he gave her, dread forming a steel ball in her stomach. The date wasn't over yet, was it? 

"Huh, I, uh, I thought dancing would be the end of the evening, right!" she said as McGucket rowed the boat through the peaceful waves of the lake. 

"Don't you want this evening to last, my sweet?" Gideon asked, taking both of her hands in his. 

"No!" Mabel jerked her hands back. Gideon looked surprised, and she rushed to correct her mistake. "I mean... Yes... I mean, I'm always happy to hang out with a friend. Buddy. Pal. Chum. Other word for friend."

"Pal?" McGucket cut in helpfully. 

"I already said pal. Uh, mate?"  

Gideon sighed dramatically and placed his hands solemnly on his knees. "Mabel, darling, I couldn't help but notice that you seem stressed tonight. Eyebags clash so heavily against your skin that it was impossible to not notice them." 

Eyebags? Mabel rubbed her eyes and tugged at her skin. She wasn't Dipper! She didn't get eyebags! "I had a terrifying nightmare last night!" she lied. A nightmare. Maybe everything last night had been a nightmare. It made sense. That flash of yellow eyes... It had to have been her imagination. 

Gideon smiled. "Then maybe this will give you sweet dreams tonight." With a whoosh, fireworks spun into the air. Mabel felt her heart sink all the way to her toes as they exploded into a giant red heart with her name written in it above her. Gideon was looking at her expectantly, and Mabel realized he was asking her out for another date. Glancing at the gorgeous fireworks, Mabel's skin crawled with dread. 

"You can't say no to that!" McGucket chirped merrily from his spot at the edge of the boat. 

Mabel wanted to cry as she slowly walked through the Shack to the attic. Another day, another date she couldn't say no to. Why couldn't she reject him? Why did she have to be so nice? Her hand hovered over the doorknob, and Mabel willed courage to appear. Dipper had his own problems to deal with; she wouldn't let him down with hers. She opened the door. 

The lights were off. She could see a big lump on Dipper's bed where he must be sleeping. A Dipper-sized lump formed in her throat. Was he okay? Had she made a mistake in not checking up on him? She tip-toed across the room to his bed and turned on his lamp. Dipper's eyes squinted as the brightness assaulted him, and he covered his face with an arm. 

"Mabel! Turn that off!" he groaned. 

Mabel did not. "How you doing, Dippin-dots?" she asked, sitting on the floor. The skin around his eyes was that bright itchy red, and was his nose bleeding? "I think your nose is bleeding." She picked up the nearest piece of cloth and passed it to him. 

Dipper swiped the bright pink cloth against his nose and stared in surprise at the large red blot that stained it. "I guess that's why it's hurting," he muttered. Pressing a clean side to his nose, he glanced at Mabel. "Did you tell Gideon you don't want to date him?"

Mabel fidgeted, hesitant to tell him. She didn't want to give him more things to worry about. "I-I couldn't say no." 

Dipper frowned in disapproval. "You can't keep leading him on. It'll make it worse when you actually do reject him." 

"I tried to! But he pulled me out of the friendship zone into the romance zone before I could say anything! It's like chubby quicksand!" Mabel threw her hands into the air in frustration. 

The disapproving look in Dipper's eyes softened with sympathy. "You know what. I'll talk to him. Say no for you." 

Mabel jumped to her feet. "Really? Oh, Dipper, thank you!" Without thinking, she yanked her brother off of his bed and squeezed him. 

"Agh! Can't breathe!" Dipper coughed. 

Mabel squealed in disgust as a drop of blood fell onto her sweater. She released Dipper from her death grip and pulled off her sweater, staring in dismay at the tiny circle of red staining the pink yarn. Dipper rubbed his nose with his makeshift tissue. 

"Sorry," he mumbled, his voice sounding funny from his closed nose. 

Mabel threw her sweater onto his bed. "I'll wash it later." She caught a glimpse of Journal 3 under Dipper's pillow and frowned. "Has Bill been bothering you?" 

"No, actually," Dipper said, climbing back under his sheets. "He hasn't said a word since last night. Although I suspect my stomach ache has unnatural causes." 

So he hadn't been feeling well. "You don't have to confront Gideon if you don't feel good. I can do it myself," Mabel said, though she doubted she would be able to say no now when she hadn't been able to before. 

Dipper shook his head. "You'll never be able to say no. It's better to end this quickly."

Mabel agreed. Conversation over, she turned off the light for Dipper and went to brush her teeth. Gazing at her reflection in the mirror, she couldn't help but think about last night. It was hard to imagine that it had only been a day. She stared at her eyes; they were the same color as Dipper's, a rich brown that matched their last name. A shiver ran down her spine as she thought about that brief moment when he and Bill had shouted at the same time. Something weird had happened. Mabel didn't understand the weird supernatural thingies as well as Dipper, but she was pretty sure creepy eyes were a sign of Bill doing something strange. Both of their eyes had looked almost the same for a brief second... Mabel scrubbed her teeth as hard as she could like it would scrub away the memories if she brushed hard enough. 

Maybe she was misremembering it. It had only been a split second. It must have been Bill's glow reflecting in Dipper’s eyes. That had to be it. Bill glowed, right? She was pretty sure he did and that it was yellow. Mabel rinsed out her mouth and smiled at her reflection, braces and all. Yes. That was it. Nothing was wrong. Everything was going to be great! She and Gideon would go back to being pals, and she would convince Bill to stop mocking her brother with a sweater! 

"Plans are awesome!" Mabel cheered as she fell onto her bed. Dipper had his ears covered with a pillow, a sign that he was really tired and badly needed sleep. Normally Mabel would torture him for his bad sleep schedule, but tonight she was more than happy to let him rest. As hard as she tried, she couldn't stop thinking about their first week in the town. She vowed to herself that she would make the summer the best one they’ve ever had. 

___

The Club where Mabel was to meet Gideon was shaped like a club. Dipper stood outside the building, glaring at the offending design while Mabel paced beside the wall. He was tired, his stomach hurt, and his nose was bleeding, and he really really did not want to do this. But Mabel couldn't bring herself to say no, so Dipper would do it for her. He owed his sister a favor anyway, after being sick for a while. He braced himself and opened the doors to the establishment. 

Red. That was all he saw as he walked through the dining area. The carpet was red, the ceiling was red, the tables were red. Everything was red! It hurt Dipper's eyes. He spotted Gideon sitting at a table between two large red curtains and hurried over to the tiny boy. It was best to get it over with quickly, and Dipper was great at being brutally honest. 

Gideon was completely obscured by the freakishly tall menu in his hands, and Dipper coughed several times to get his attention. A streak of blood fell out of his nose, and he quickly wiped it away just as Gideon lowered the menu. 

"Oh, Dipper Pines! How are you?" Gideon asked, tiny in his mammoth velvet club shaped red chair. "You look good, you look good."

Well, this was awkward. Dipper expected to hear a sarcastic quip from Bill, but the triangle was still unusually silent. He rubbed the back of his head nervously and prepared to speak. 

"By the way, your nose is bleeding," Gideon interrupted. He took out a handkerchief and held it out to Dipper. Dipper stared at it weirdly, wondering why Gideon carried handkerchiefs. He took it anyway, pressing the handkerchief to his nose before realizing it was white. 

"This won't stain, right?" Dipper asked. 

Gideon shook his head. 

Dipper laughed awkwardly. "Good. So, uh... Look, Gideon, we've got to talk. Mabel isn't joining you tonight. She, uh, she doesn't want to see you anymore." He laughed again, cursing himself for being so awkward. He was just rejecting his sister's unintentional boyfriend for her. Okay, when he put it like that, this situation was really awkward. "She's, uh, she's kind of weirded out by you- no offense." 

"So... What you're saying is..." Gideon's left eye twitched. "You've... come between us?" A dark look shadowed his face. 

"You're not gonna, like, freak out or anything, are you?" Dipper asked, not liking the look on Gideon's face at all. 

The angry scowl was quickly replaced with a clearly faked smile. "Of course not! These things happen." He laughed. "Bygones, you know." 

"Um, okay, cool!" Dipper backed away. "Do you want this back?" He held out the bloody handkerchief. 

Gideon's nose twitched in disgust. "No, you keep it, friend. You need it more than I do." 

Did he really look that bad? Dipper hurried out of the Club, embarrassed and wondering why Bill hadn't made a single mocking comment during that whole exchange. 

Mabel practically jumped on him with questions the moment he exited through the doors. 

"How'd it go? Was he mad? Did he try to read your mind with his psychic powers?" Mabel whispered the last part. 

"Don't worry, Mabel. He's just a kid. He doesn't have any powers," Dipper reassured her. Did he believe that? Not really. He'd taken a good look through Journal 2 when he'd had it, and there was a page about an amulet that looked suspiciously like Gideon's tie. He was just speculating, though, and there was no solid proof that Gideon did have a magic amulet. Hopefully he didn't. 

"Thanks again, Dipper," Mabel said as they walked back to the Shack. "I was scared that I would have to date him forever! But at least we can go back to being makeup pals!" 

"Want to draw on Stan's face while he's sleeping?" Dipper smiled mischievously. 

Mabel matched it. "Oh yes, brother. Yes I do." 

___

Stan's furious shout echoed around the house, audible in every room. Dipper and Mabel crouched under the gift shop counter, giggling madly. In Mabel's hand was a bright pink marker, the culprit for the squiggly lines now decorating Stan's face. 

"KIDS! WHAT THE HECK DID YOU DO TO ME!" 

Mabel snorted with laughter. "Nothing, Grunkle Stan! But you look beautiful now!" 

Dipper wheezed, clutching his burning side. The twins had been laughing their heads off for twenty minutes straight, and he was starting to feel the effects. They heard loud footsteps as Stan barged into the gift shop. Items clattered to the floor as Stan searched every nook and cranny for the twins. Dipper held his breath and slapped his hand over Mabel's mouth because she couldn't stop giggling. Stan approached the counter, and they could see his shadow fall over the floor, the tassel on his fez swinging in the air. 

"Come out, come out, kids," Stan said menacingly. "Naughty brats need to be punished." The shadow disappeared as Stan moved on to the clothes rack. 

Dipper glanced at Mabel and pointed at Stan. He gestured between the two of them and mimed jumping. Mabel nodded in understanding, her eyes bright with glee. They slipped off their shoes and crept quietly across the floor, keeping their eyes firmly fixed on Stan. Their grunkle was looking under a stack of baseball caps, completely unaware of the children sneaking up on him. 

"C'mon, kids, I don't have all day to be chasing you. I swear your punishment won't be that bad," Stan said. Dipper and Mabel were a foot behind him. They exchanged a look, and Dipper counted down with his fingers from three to one. Mabel crouched, ready to spring. 

"Now!" Dipper yelled, jumping onto Stan. With a battle cry, Mabel followed.

"OH MY GO-" Stan cried, falling to the floor with the weight of two twelve year olds crushing him. "AGH! MY BACK!" 

Mabel grabbed his wrists and twisted his arms behind his back, keeping him in place. Dipper rested a foot on the back of Stan's head and cleared his throat for a dramatic speech. 

"You thought you had power over us, that you could punish us without repercussions. But we, the Mystery Twins, will never admit defeat! We've bested you, old man, now surrender!" he said, pointing at a random spot on the ceiling dramatically. 

Mabel whooped enthusiastically. "Surrender or die!" she yelled, pulling hard on Stan's arm. Stan yelped in pain. 

"Okay, okay, I surrender! I surrender! Please, just let me live!" he begged. "And breathe. You two are crushing me." He coughed for emphasis. 

Dipper tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm. I don't know. Does he seem regretful, Mabel?" 

"No! We must imprison him in our awful, dark, musty dungeon!" Mabel paused for dramatic effect. She wiggled her fingers and said in a low voice, "Dipper's dirty laundry pile!" 

"Hey, don't insult my laundry," Dipper said. 

"No!" Stan began to wriggle desperately. "No, not prepubescent boy laundry! Oh, what did I do to deserve this?" 

"Silence!" Dipper nudged Stan's cheek with his shoe aggressively. "You are under arrest by the Mystery Twins for conspiring against our tyrannical rule of the Mystery Shack."

"I plead the 5th!"

"Ha! We don't follow the Constitution!" Mabel laughed evilly. "The Mystery Shack and the entirety of Gravity Falls must obey the Law of Dip-Dip and the Magnificent Mabel! Mwahahaha!"

"Do I at least get a lawyer?" Stan asked. His voice was muffled due to his face being squished against the wooden floor. 

"No," Dipper said. "We don't believe in free trial. Tie him up, dear sister of mine." 

"Wait, you're not actually going to do that, are you?" Stan asked, worried. 

Mabel scoffed and flipped her hair. "Of course not! We didn't think that far ahead."

"Thank goodness," Stan sighed in relief. "Seriously, though, can you get off me? I can't breathe." 

Dipper and Mabel hopped off of their grunkle, and he stood up and stretched. His back cracked as he did, and he gave the twins a stern and angry look. Mabel snorted, and Dipper covered his smirk with a hand. Stan didn't look as threatening as he thought he was with bright pink lines and words scribbled all over his face. 

"Alright you two. For ruining my face and trying to arrest me, you're going to spend the rest of the week cleaning up the bathrooms," Stan declared. 

The twins made identical faces of disgust. Mabel stuck out her tongue. 

"Now say sorry." 

"S-sorr-" Mabel struggled to apologize. How could she be genuine, when his face looked so funny? 

"Sorry," Dipper said. "We won't do it again." Stan should know better. The twins were so going to repeat this prank. 

Stan seemed satisfied with that, even though he didn't look entirely convinced by the lie. He gave them one last glare before leaving, probably to wash the marker off of his face. 

"That was a good evil laugh," Dipper told Mabel as soon as Stan was gone. 

"And that was a nice evil speech," Mabel said. She posed dramatically and recited, "'But we, the Mystery Twins, will never accept defeat!' Ha! Grunkle Stan should fear us!" 

The twins laughed cheerfully, amused by their own antics. All of that had been spontaneous, but the fun let them forget about their problems. Or problem. Mabel didn't have to deal with Gideon anymore! 

The phone rang, the loud piercing sound breaking the twins' laughter. 

"Your turn," Mabel said. 

"Your turn," Dipper said half a second after Mabel. "Dang it." He lost. He walked over to the phone and picked it up, expecting it to be for Stan or a scam call. "Hello? This is the Mystery Shack." 

"Hello there, Dipper Pines," said a high voice with a Southern accent. "How's your day been?" 

Dipper's eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open in surprise. "Gideon?" 

"The one and only. Now, I know I said you could keep that handkerchief, but I really need it back. I've lost all my other ones, and I need one for my show, you know?" 

"Oh. It's kind of in the dryer at the moment, so I can't give it back right now," Dipper said. He glanced at Mabel. His sister was sticking her head into the question mark t-shirts. 

"Would you mind meeting up tonight? I need it by tomorrow morning." 

Dipper's skin crawled, and he didn't know why. Gideon was just asking for a favor. Although something did sound off with his voice. He sounded like he was restraining the urge to punch something. Dipper had heard the tone often; Stan had anger issues and had difficulty controlling them. 

"Uh, sure. Did you want to drop by here?" 

"I'll be at 412 Gopher Road. Thanks in advance for the favor, boy. It means so much to me." 

Boy? Gideon was literally younger than him! "Yeah, sure, no prob-" The line clicked as Gideon hung up. Dipper set the phone down, unsure what to make of that conversation. He shouldn't go. At least not alone. He had a feeling there would be horrible consequences if he didn't go. It was just so weird. Why the heck did Gideon want to meet up for a handkerchief? 

"Who was it?" Mabel asked, coming over with ten baseball caps on her head. 

"Gideon," Dipper replied honestly. "I borrowed one of his handkerchiefs, and he wants it back."

"You mean the one you bled all over?" Mabel's mouth twisted into a frown. "Why would he want it back?" 

"Beats me. Can you come with me? I'm not sure a handkerchief is the only reason he wants to see me," Dipper said, glancing uncertainly at the telephone. Gideon's behavior was suspicious. Was he mad about Mabel breaking up with him? 

Mabel sighed tiredly. "Yeah, I'll come. I think I'll break up with him myself this time. In case he's mad at you for earlier." 

The twins spent the next hour mentally preparing themselves for a probably enraged child. Dipper put Journal 3 into his pocket and retrieved the handkerchief from the dryer. As expected, a large red stain took up most of the handkerchief. Dipper winced at the reminder of how much his nose had bled. Fortunately it had stopped two hours ago, along with his stomach ache. By the time they were ready to leave, Mabel was sweating nervously and Dipper was thinking of every worst case scenario the meeting could end with. Like what if Gideon did have an amulet? Would he use it against them? 

412 Gopher Road was a pretty long way from the Mystery Shack. Mabel was silent for the entire trip, and Dipper tried not to let his thoughts spiral into disaster mode. If only he had his sister's optimism. Gideon might not want anything at all, and Dipper was just overreacting. 

Their destination was a large warehouse sitting on the edge of a cliff. Dipper gave the cliff a wary look as he stepped up to the entrance of the warehouse. The heavy metal doors were opened slightly. Dipper slipped into the warehouse and saw Gideon sitting on a chair in the back. The smaller boy's expression was dark, and Dipper almost froze. The door suddenly closed with a loud clang, shutting out Mabel's startled yell. Dipper spun around, horror sending his heart racing. It was a trap! It had to be a trap! 

"Hello, friend," Gideon's country voice echoed around the room; the boy was sitting in an office chair in the back of the warehouse, fiddling with a plush of himself. With his small stature, the chair seemed like a throne. "Dipper Pines. How long have you been living in this town? A week? Two? You like it here? Enjoy the scenery?" His voice darkened on the last words. 

Dipper threw the handkerchief across the room; it landed a good ten feet away from Gideon. "What do you want from me, man?" he demanded, forcing himself not to stare at Gideon's tie. He was pleading for it not to be an amulet. His luck would be so bad if it was. 

"Listen carefully, boy. This town has secrets you couldn't begin to comprehend," Gideon said ominously. 

Again with the boy? And of course Dipper could understand the secrets; he literally had a demon in his head! "Is this about Mabel?" he asked, praying it was. "I told you she's not into you!" 

"Liar!" Gideon shrieked, his calm façade cracking. "You turned her against me!" He jumped off his chair and stalked toward Dipper. "She was my peach dumpling!" 

Oh no. Dipper backed away as Gideon's hand flew to his tie. His heart pounding in fear, Dipper glanced at the door. Could he run out before Gideon could get him? Please don't have magic , he begged silently. 

Gideon's hand closed around the cyan brooch, and it began to glow. The boy's eyes were narrowed as he lifted his hand. 

"Crap." A cyan glow surrounded Dipper and floated him into the air. Fear ran down his spine. So Gideon did have magic. Well. He was going to die. Gideon threw Dipper across the room with his magic, and Dipper crashed straight into a pile of boxes. He rubbed his head as plushes of Gideon fell around him. 

"Reading minds isn't the only thing I can do," Gideon said menacingly as he strode up to Dipper. 

Half-formed plans and thoughts spiraled in Dipper's brain as he scrambled for a way to get out. Gideon was crazy! He threw a Gideon plush at the insane child, but Gideon froze it with his amulet. The plush fell to the ground limply, and Gideon raised his hand again. Boxes opened all over the room, and hundreds of fragile plates and tableware floated into the air, surrounded by a cyan glow. Dipper paled as he imagined how deadly shards of plastic and glass could be. Gideon hurled the objects at him, and he barely managed to dodge them. 

"Your sister will be mine!" Gideon cried, laughing evilly. He pulled the string on one of the plushes, and it, too, laughed evilly. 

What a creep! Dipper grabbed a baseball bat and charged at Gideon. The cyan glow surrounded him again as Gideon lifted him in the air. 

"She's never going to date you, man!" Dipper shouted, struggling. 

"That's a lie!" Gideon yelled angrily. His eyes fell on a nearby box, and Dipper's blood ran cold. No... He wouldn't do that, would he? "And I'm going to make sure you never lie to me again, friend!" A pair of shears tore through the box, aiming for Dipper and snapping their deadly blades menacingly. 

"GIDEON!" 

Gideon whipped around, eyes widening. Dipper breathed a sigh of relief as Mabel stormed into the warehouse, face red in anger. 

"M-Mabel! My marshmallow! What are you doing here?" Gideon asked, immediately dropping the shears. Dipper remained airborne, though, and he knew Gideon was not done yet. 

"Put my brother down!" Mabel snapped, a fierce fire burning in her eyes. Dipper had never seen Mabel look so angry before. 

Gideon laughed nervously and let Dipper down. He didn't relax until he was safely on concrete again. Mabel fixed Gideon with a glare so hard Dipper was surprised Gideon didn't squirm under it. 

"I can't be your marshmallow, Gideon. I needed to be honest and tell you that myself," she said. 

"I-I don't understand," Gideon said, refusing to. His hand tightened around his amulet, and Dipper felt the glow returning. His body constricted, and Dipper struggled to breathe. 

"Mabel! I-I don't think now's the time to be brutally honest with him!" Dipper choked. 

"But we can still be makeover buddies! Wouldn't you like that?" Mabel asked, coming up to Gideon and holding his hands. 

"Really?" Gideon's eyes sparkled. 

Ice filled Mabel's eyes as she snatched the amulet off of Gideon's shirt. "No, not really!" she spat, pushing him away. "You were, like, attacking my brother! What the heck?" 

"My tie!" Gideon cried. "Give it back!" 

'Get the amulet.' 

Dipper almost jumped out of his skin as the familiar layered voice sounded in his head. It was louder than it used to be, but Dipper was so surprised to hear it again that he didn't question the change in volume. 

"Bill?" he cried in surprise... and disappointment. "Where have you been?" 

'No time to explain. Get the amulet! For, uh, scientific purposes!' 

As if she, too, could hear Bill, Mabel tossed the amulet over Gideon's head in Dipper's direction. Dipper caught it and stood stupidly in place for a moment, wondering what to do with it. It made sense to destroy it, but his hand didn't seem to want to let go of it. Suddenly Gideon was charging at him, and Dipper hardly had time to react before Gideon tackled him through the window. Glass shards flew through the air as Dipper and Gideon fell out of the warehouse... and down the cliff. 

"Dipper!" Mabel screamed. 

Gideon's fists were pummeling Dipper's face, and as the two boys fought, the ground approached them with lightning speed. 

'Use the amulet! Quickly!' 

Dipper closed his eyes and focused on the amulet. Fortunately, it didn't seem like you needed much practice to use it. The cyan glow caught both boys and suspended them in the air, and Dipper used it to carry them down to the ground. He released himself from the amulet's hold but kept Gideon in place. The insane child was growling like a cornered animal, unable to do anything but watch as Dipper held his amulet. 

'Good reflexes, Pine Tree! You took to that amulet like a fish in water!' Bill praised him. 

Dipper raised an eyebrow. After an entire day or two of silence, Bill came back complimenting him? Did the summoning mess with his head? 

"Let me go!" Gideon yelled, gnashing his teeth like an agitated dog. "Unhand me this instant, boy!" 

"I'm older than you, boy ," Dipper snapped, using what Gideon called him against him. He held the amulet up, examining the jewel as moonlight reflected off it. "A psycho like you shouldn't have this. I think I'll break it." 

Gideon's eyes flashed dangerously. "That's my property! Give it back!" 

"Dipper!" Mabel darted into the scene, hair wild and panting. "Oh my gosh, you're alive!" She hugged him tightly. When she let go, leaving him gasping for air, she turned to Gideon. The white haired boy whimpered under the fury in her gaze. "It's over, Gideon!" she snapped, jabbing him in the stomach. "I will never date you!" 

The glow around Gideon disappeared as Dipper finally released him. Gideon glared at the twins. 

"This isn't over," he hissed. He began to back into the forest, shadows covering his angry eyes as he whispered, "This isn't the last you've seen of little- ol'- me..." With that, he disappeared from view. 

Dipper stared at the amulet in his hand. "Should we destroy this?" he asked Mabel. 

His sister squinted thoughtfully. "I guess it's only dangerous in Gideon's hands. Why?" 

"No reason," Dipper said. He frowned. He'd meant to tell her it had been Bill's idea, but he'd changed his mind a split second before he could speak. 

He and Mabel stared at the spot where Gideon had disappeared for a moment. "We should go home," Dipper said. 

"Yeah," Mabel agreed. "We should." 

They turned their backs on the woods and walked down the path back to the Shack. Stan was probably wondering where they were. Dipper couldn't wait to fall asleep. He felt so tired. Nearly dying took its toll on a person. The amulet rested in his pocket beside the journal, and before he went to bed he put it under his pillow. 

His dreams were strange that night. Flashes of blue fire and Stan sitting on the yellow living room chair with a ball paddle in his hand faded in and out of his mind. He could feel pain, but it wasn't his. He felt fear, but that, too, did not belong to him. Eventually the dreams disappeared, and Dipper slept the rest of the night without any more dreams. All the while a triangle threaded the strings, tearing apart a foreign mindscape to make it his own.

Chapter Text

"Whoo-hoo!" Mabel cried as she spun around in the air. She lifted her arms the way a ballerina would and twirled. Below her, Dipper sat on his bed, one eye closed as he concentrated on keeping his sister afloat with the amulet. Mabel laughed giddily as she hopped through the air; Dipper was only using enough magic to float her so she could control her own movements. "Dipper! Join me!" 

"Maybe not," he said hesitantly. "I don't know how much focus that would take." 

"Get up here, lazy!" Mabel crossed her feet in midair and put an L to her forehead. 

Dipper rolled his eyes. The amulet's magic really wasn't difficult to control, but Dipper didn't want to push his limits. He'd only had it for five days, and most of those five days had been spent working in the Shack. This was the second time in all those five days when he and Mabel had the opportunity to mess around with the amulet. Dipper floated himself up beside his sister, both of them encased in the cyan glow. Mabel loved the glow, and Dipper couldn't blame her. It was a nice, soothing greenish-blue; now that Gideon couldn't kill them with it, the glow was nice, friendly almost. Unlike with Gideon, Dipper felt protected and comfortable with floating. If he and Mabel fell, he knew he could catch them. 

Mabel started beatboxing and breakdancing, twisting and dancing in the air. She tried to jump at one point, but the magic wouldn't let her do that. Dipper brought a couple of her stuffed animals into the air with them, and they began to dance with her. Mabel's eyes glittered with joy as she twirled with her plush friends. She was back to her normal self now that Gideon had been dealt with. 

Dipper's mood fell, and he stifled a sigh. If only his problems could be so easily dealt with. He'd been feeling weird ever since Bill had broken his silence. He couldn't put his finger on what exactly he was feeling, but it just didn't feel right. He... He was clueless. And Dipper did not like being clueless. 

'Is there a problem, Pine Tree?' Bill asked as if he wasn't trapped in Dipper's mind and had no choice in hearing his thoughts. 

Are you up to something?  

'No. Nothing's wrong, kid. Quit worrying yourself.' 

Nothing's wrong . Yeah, nothing was wrong . The weird feeling was back. Dipper lowered himself to the ground, struggling to piece together what he was feeling. Nothing was wrong just like Bill said. But something felt wrong. Something wasn't right. 

'Don't be silly, Pine Tree. Nothing's wrong!'

Nothing's wrong, nothing's wrong, nothing's wrong, nothing's wrong -

"Dipper!" 

Dipper jolted back into awareness. Wide-eyed, he turned to find Mabel collapsed in a pile of her stuffed animals on the floor. His sister looked at him, confused. 

"Why'd you drop me?" she asked. She was shaking out her arm. 

"Drop you...?" Had he lost focus? Had he zoned out? When the heck had he dropped her? 

"You kind of just stood there for a little while, and then I fell," Mabel explained. She hopped to her feet and dusted off her skirt. "It's no biggie! You were probably thinking of nerd stuff, right?" 

"Nerd stuff," Dipper repeated, his mind hazy. What had he been thinking about? He'd felt that weird feeling again, but that was nothing because nothing was wrong . "Yeah, I was thinking of nerd stuff." 

Mabel's enthusiasm died a little. They stood there awkwardly for a moment, Mabel not knowing what to say and Dipper confused about the fog in his mind. 

"Wanna say hi to Soos and Wendy?" Mabel asked, kicking a plush. 

"Um, yeah," Dipper said distantly. "Yeah. We can say hi." He rubbed his head. He couldn't even think properly. 

Mabel's face was creased with worry, but she didn't voice it. Dipper shoved the amulet back into his pocket and followed her out of the room. Something was wr- nothing was wrong. 

'Absolutely right, Pine Tree. Nothing. Is. Wrong.' 

Mabel slammed the door to the gift shop open and shouted, "What's up, my two favorite workers in the world?" Anyone who knew Mabel extremely well would have been able to tell that her actions and words held less gusto than they usually did. Dipper drifted to the counter, aimlessly spinning the globe. 

"Yo, Dip, you okay?" 

"Huh?" Dipper snapped back to reality and looked up at the owner of the voice. Wendy was rummaging through the cash register, and her eyebrow was raised as she watched the globe spin under his finger. Dipper stared at her blankly, having not clearly heard what she said. 

"Are. You. Okay?" Wendy repeated, stretching out each word. "You look like you're in lala land." 

"I'm fine," Dipper replied, the words sounding hollow. "I..." The globe started to shake. Was he shaking? He couldn't tell. 

Wendy shut the cash register drawer with a decisive motion. "All right, guys. It's rooftop time." 

"Rooftop time?" Mabel jumped up and down excitedly. "What's rooftop time? Tell me, tell me, tell me!" 

Wendy smirked and walked over to a large blue curtain concealing something from the rest of the gift shop. She grasped one of the curtains and swung it back, presenting a ladder. Mabel gasped, and Dipper found a spark of interest. Soos seemed to have already known about the ladder, seeing as he had no reaction. 

"This is a ladder to the roof," Wendy explained. "Don't tell Mr. Pines about it. He might close it up." 

"We can go on the roof?" Mabel wiggled eagerly. 

"Yup. It's how I spend all my breaks. And my shift." Wendy winked. 

"I don't know." Soos fidgeted uncertainly, looking torn between interest and fear. "I don't think I want to disobey Mr. Pines like that." 

"Rooftop time! Rooftop time!" Wendy and Mabel chanted, climbing up the ladder. 

Dipper hurried after them, feeling the life return to his body. He popped his head through a piece of cloth and found himself staring out at the gorgeous forest of Gravity Falls. The pines stretched out for acres, and he could even see the small buildings of town. Wendy and Mabel were sliding down the roof to a part of it that jutted out over the ground. He followed, noticing that there was already a chair, umbrella, and an ice cooler on the platform. Wendy hadn't been lying when she said she came up here a lot. 

"This is awesome!" Mabel cheered as Wendy basked in the sunlight. "What do you think, Dipper?" She gazed at him expectantly. 

The sun's rays warmed his skin, and the breeze ruffled the hair that wasn't under his cap. Gazing out at the beautiful scenery and hearing the chirping of birds, Dipper felt himself relax. The turmoil in his head died down as he smiled. 

"I love it," he said breathlessly. 

"If you two ever need a break, come up here. Chances are I'll be here, too," Wendy said, digging through her cooler. "You guys want some soda?" 

"Yes, please!" Mabel practically snatched the can from Wendy's hands. 

"S-sure," Dipper stuttered. Wendy's red hair was glowing like fire in the sunlight, and its dazzling beauty was stunning him into silence. Their fingers brushed as he took the soda can from her, and he blushed. 

'Aw heck no. I'm not dealing with romance here.' 

Dipper choked on his soda, and Mabel slapped him hard on the back to clear his airway. Romance? There wasn't anything going on between him and Wendy!

'Good. Love is disgusting.' 

Dipper's face was as red as Wendy's wonderful hair as he shakily sipped his soda. A car horn beeped below them, and the three looked down to see a worn out blue car below them. 

"Sorry, guys, gotta hang with my friends," Wendy apologized. She stood up and stretched. "See you later, and don't tell Mr. Pines I'm skiving off work." She ran to the edge of the platform and jumped off it onto a tall pine tree standing right beside the platform. Dipper watched her in awe as she scaled down the tree and raced to the car. He and Mabel heard her friends greet her enthusiastically before the car sped away from the Shack. 

"Wendy's so cool," Dipper said, unaware that he was blushing as he said it. 

Mabel was too busy dumping soda into her mouth to hear. 

'I wouldn't crush on her, Pine Tree. She'll reject you because you're a child.' 

I don't have a crush , Dipper thought. 

'Human attraction. It's revolting.' 

Dipper really wished Bill had stayed silent forever. He took a sip of his soda and promptly swallowed it wrong for no reason. After clearing his throat, he and Mabel descended from the platform using the amulet and ran back inside. As fun as hanging out on the roof was, Dipper still felt the weird feeling lurking beneath the surface. But he was just imagining things. 

Nothing was wrong.  

___

"Dipper. Mabel. Explain yourselves." Stan glared at the twins, hands on his hips and brow furrowed in annoyance. 

Mabel's eyes were downcast in guilt, and Dipper crossed his arms, insulted for being roped into trouble. He wasn't the one who crashed all the items in the gift shop to the floor. Behind the counter, Wendy buried her face into a magazine, unwilling to look at the twins who were in trouble. 

They had been hanging around in the gift shop like usual when Wendy had announced that she needed to leave with her friends on an exciting adventure. Dipper, wishing to spend more time with the older girl, had asked her if he and Mabel could come. Wendy had hesitated and told him that they might be too young to hang out with a bunch of rowdy teenagers. Dipper had been prepared to lie about his age, but Mabel had intervened and told Wendy about the amulet. Wendy, skeptical and thinking it was just another Mabel joke, had challenged Mabel to prove that they really did have a magic amulet. Mabel had proudly accepted the challenge and swiped the amulet from Dipper's pocket before he could protest. Then she'd used the amulet to lift up every single object in the gift shop. Wendy had been amazed, and Dipper became eager to show off some tricks with it. Before he could ask Mabel to share, Mabel dropped everything she was holding up. Every box, every snow globe, every fragile piece of merchandise fell to the floor and shattered. 

Of course, Stan had the hearing of a bat when it came to his merchandise, and he'd come running to check if his gift shop was being robbed. The second he appeared in the doorway the twins knew they were doomed. Aside from Wendy, they were the only people in the room and the only plausible culprits. 

"It was an accident," Mabel said quietly. "We didn't mean to break everything! We were just messing around and didn't watch where we were going!" 

Stan grunted doubtfully. "Yeah, right. You managed to knock the top shelf items onto the floor by running around?" 

"Mabel climbed up the shelves," Dipper lied. "She drank too much Mabel Juice and got too hyper. You know how it is." 

"You're cleaning this up. Right now. If it isn't done by tonight, you're grounded. Understand?" 

"What?" Mabel and Dipper shared a look of alarm. "But Grunkle Stan- we didn't mean to!" 

"You still did it, and it might cost me money. Your actions have consequences, kids. I may a terrible guardian, but even I know I can't let you run entirely free. Otherwise this place would be up in flames!" Stan leveled his glare at Wendy. "Since you did nothing to stop them, you're going to help them." 

Wendy stiffened behind the magazine. Stan didn't wait for a reply; he turned heel and stormed out of the room, muttering, "Kids!" 

Dipper, accepting that there was no way out of the punishment, retrieved the brooms and dust pans from the utility closet. Wendy had other ideas, though he probably should have seen that coming a mile away. 

"Put the brooms away, Dipper," Wendy ordered, slapping down her magazine. "We are so not cleaning this up!" 

"But Stan said we had to clean it by tonight!" Mabel pointed out. 

Wendy shrugged. "We can finish it when we get back." 

Dipper perked up at the "we". "So we can come with you?" he asked excitedly. 

"Heck yeah. That amulet is sick. We could really use it for where we're going," Wendy said, carefully stepping around a fallen postcard stand. "Man, the guys will love it!" 

Dipper almost squealed like Mabel. Hanging out with Wendy! Yes! He tugged Mabel off the floor and after Wendy as she left the Shack. The mess would have to wait. A night full of fun and adventure awaited him! 

Wendy's friends were gathered around their dented blue van. Three guys and a girl were throwing plastic pellets at a guy's belly button. Dipper winced as a pellet perfectly hit its mark. That must be so painful. 

'We should try that!' Bill said eagerly. 

Horrified, Dipper was so busy trying to convince Bill why they should not try it that he missed Wendy introducing him and Mabel to her friends. 

"Why are you bringing along a bunch of pipsqueaks?" asked a guy with black hair that looked like a stereotypical emo. "They'll ruin the mood." 

"They're actually cool, Robbie!" Wendy lowered her voice, glancing conspiratorially around. "They have a magic amulet!" 

Robbie laughed, unamused. "Yeah, right. Go on, kids, show us your magic," he said mockingly to Dipper. 

'Throw him into the car,' Bill suggested. 

Dipper gladly took the amulet out of his pocket and lifted Robbie into the air. The teen cried out in fear as the blue glow sent him flying to the car. The other teens made noises of amazement and crowded around Dipper and Mabel. The attention was embarrassing, and Dipper resisted the urge to pull his hat over his eyes. 

After the teens had finished drooling over the amulet, the group got into the car and made their way to wherever they were going. Dipper eyed the inside of the car, weirded out by the rude words etched into the metal with marker. Mabel noticed a "You stink" message beside her on the car door, and she pulled out a red marker- from where, Dipper had no clue- and cheerfully wrote over the message, turning it into a far more friendly "You look nice today". Dipper toyed with the amulet in his pocket, watching the guy driving the car. Images of the car crashing and their bones splitting and blood pouring onto the ground, staining the dirt and metal, fire blazing, screams of agony- 

With a loud gasp of horror, Dipper pushed himself out of the frightening daydream. Shaking, he glanced at his sister, but she was busy writing over the mean notes on the car. Her blue sweater was unharmed, but Dipper swore he could see red leaking through the fabric. He shuddered and looked ahead at the driver again. His skin crawled as blood dripped from the ceiling. A drop fell onto his skin , and he flinched, barely holding back a scream. 

'Isn't it hilarious, Pine Tree?' Bill's voice whispered. 'Don't you want to know what it feels like?' 

Dipper's limbs were heavy. He pressed his right hand against the car, grasping the amulet tightly in his other one. His eyelids were drooping. "What are you doing to me?" he croaked. 

'I did nothing. You're the one picturing these things. You're curious about it, aren't ya?' 

The words fused together as Dipper's hand slipped off the door. No. Bill was wrong. He would never imagine such gruesome fantasies. Bill was doing something. He had to be! 

Bill hummed thoughtfully. 'Huh. That didn't work. Guess I have a few more modifications to make. Your will is stronger than I thought, Pine Tree.' His voice deepened. 'But that won't prevent you from forgetting about this... experiment. Sweet nightmares, Pine Tree!' 

"But-" Dipper slumped against the car seat as soon as the word had left his mouth. Mabel glanced at him curiously, wondering if he'd been responding to the conversation the teens were having. She noticed he was asleep and fondly patted his hat. To save him embarrassment if the teens noticed him sleeping, Mabel positioned his arms to mimic how a person would lean against the car door to look outside. She tipped his hat over his eyes and listened intently to the teens' conversation, having no idea what they were talking about but not caring. 

Dipper's eyes cracked open as a jolt forced him out of sleep. The sky was completely dark now, and he could see a couple of stars fighting their way past light pollution. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Dipper gazed out the car window at a run-down decrepit convenience store. The lights were shut off, and the street lamps illuminated the dust covering the windows and doors. Dipper fumbled with his seatbelt, his brain foggy from sleep and feeling like it was missing something. Like when he had gotten tired. He couldn't remember feeling sleepy. 

'Oh, cool, an abandoned store! A perfect spot for ghosts to haunt! You like ghosts, don't you, Pine Tree?' 

Yes, he did. Dirt crunched beneath Dipper's shoes as he hopped out of the car. The teens were already approaching the gate, and Mabel hung a few paces behind them, clearly waiting for Dipper. The flashlight provided a useful beacon for Dipper to head toward as he rushed over to join them. 

"What took you so long, kid?" Robbie asked sourly as Dipper caught up with them at the gate. 

Dipper glared at him. What the heck was his problem? Was he mad about earlier when Dipper used him as a demonstration of his magic? 

"Nothing. Are we going to have to climb over that?" He gestured to the fence, privately thinking that it looked dangerous to climb. Falling and breaking a bone did not sound like a fun time to him. 

"Actually, we were thinking of flying over it with your amulet," Wendy said. The other teens nodded in agreement. "You up for it, Dipper?" 

"Of course!" Dipper's hand was halfway in his pocket before he realized he was already holding the amulet. Pretending like he hadn't reached into his pocket, he activated the amulet, and the warm blue glow encased the teens, himself, and Mabel. Wendy's friends grinned in excitement; even Robbie cracked a smile. The group floated over the fence, and Dipper eased them back to the ground, face pinched tightly in concentration. 

"Dude, that was awesome!" the guy with tattoos cheered. 

A blonde guy slapped Dipper's shoulder in a friendly gesture. "So cool, man. You should hang out with us more." 

Dipper's heart lifted into the air and the heavens above. The older kids thought he was cool! Catching Wendy smiling at him, he straightened importantly and headed to the door of the store. Raising the amulet, he narrowed his eyes at the doors. The hinges rattled as the magic ripped them apart, and Dipper floated the doors to a safe spot away from the group. Cheers rode into the air as the teens applauded his efforts. They let Dipper lead the way inside; only Wendy walked beside him. He blushed as they headed in together. 

The store's lights were off, and the small space was shrouded in darkness. Dipper held the glow of his amulet against the line of shelves crowded in the middle of the store. Cobwebs glittered in the light, and dusty bags of chips slumped against the back of the shelves.

"Some say this place is haunted," Wendy said, standing right behind them. "Wouldn't it be cool if we saw an actual ghost?" 

Dipper thought back to the ghost section of the journal and shuddered. "Not really," he said. "Ghosts can be really dangerous, especially if they're a Category 10 ghost." 

"I found the lights!" one of Wendy's friends called. If only Dipper had been paying attention when they'd been introduced. 

The lights flickered on, bathing the store in an LED glow. It's use no longer necessary, Dipper slipped the amulet back into his pocket. Mabel darted over to him, eyes shining with excitement. 

"Dipper! Dipper! Come look what I found!" She grabbed his arm and dragged him after her. Curious, Dipper let her drag him as she headed toward a large yellow cardboard stand. His curiosity vaporized as soon as he saw the pink bags sitting inside it. 

"Smile Dip!" Mabel grinned. 

"I thought it was banned in America," Dipper said, eyeing the bags decorated with a smiling yellow dog suspiciously. Mabel picked up a bag and ripped it open. "I don't think you should eat it, Mabel. It's banned for a reason." Mabel shoveled the pink powder into her mouth with the white foam spoon, and Dipper rolled his eyes. "Never mind then. Don't poison yourself, Mabel." 

"I won't!" Mabel promised. He hadn't been serious when he'd said that. 

Wandering around the store, Dipper took note of how abandoned and dusty it looked. How long had it been abandoned? Were the owners dead? Bill, did the owners die?  

'Yes indeed! They're ghosts now, haunting the very store you're partying in. And they hate teenagers so much they'd kill them as soon as look at them!' 

Horror filled Dipper so fast his knees went weak. "You're joking," he said numbly. 

'Would I ever lie to you, Pine Tree?' 

Dipper huffed and crossed his arms. 

'Wrong thing to say. But I am telling the truth.'

Dipper hurried back to his sister, almost slipping on the dirt covered floor in his haste. They had to leave before the ghosts woke up and attacked them for trespassing. 

"Mabel, this place is actually haunted by angry ghosts who hate teenagers. If we mess around any longer, they might wake up, and we could all die!" he said in one breath. Mabel's back was turned to him, and she didn't respond. Dipper's fear intensified. "Mabel?" he asked tentatively. He walked around her, wondering why she wasn't responding. 

Pink foam dribbled out of the corner of Mabel's mouth, and her eyes were wide and had a hint of yellow in them. Her body shook from too much sugar, and the pink powder was dumped all over the front of her sweater. She looked like she had candy rabies. 

Dipper rubbed the bridge of his nose in annoyance, but her condition was worrying. "I told her not to eat that stuff," he muttered as he lay Mabel against the cardboard stand. "No wonder it's banned. This is terrifying." He took the Smile Dip package out of Mabel's hand and threw it into the trash can. He would have gotten her water, but she was in no condition to swallow anything. Deciding that Mabel was at less risk than the teens, Dipper set out to find the rest of the group. 

And promptly crashed straight into Wendy. 

Dipper jumped back, face burning. "Ah! Wendy! D-didn't see you there!" He laughed nervously. 

"No big deal," Wendy said, brushing it off. Her eyes fell on Mabel, and she winced. "What happened to her?" 

"Illegal drug candy," Dipper said honestly. Bill's friendly information dump came back to his mind, and he shifted anxiously from one foot to another. "We have to get out of here, Wendy! This place is haunted by angry ghosts who hate teens! They might kill you and everyone else!" 

"Woah, woah, slow down!" Wendy held up a hand to stop him. "You think there are actual ghosts in here?" 

"I don't think. I know," Dipper said with conviction. 

Wendy paled, and Dipper was surprised she believed him. Then again he had a magic amulet, so it made sense for her to assume other types of supernatural existed. 

"Hey, guys! Check this out!" yelled Robbie suddenly. 

Dipper and Wendy exchanged a look and nodded. Time to warn everyone. They followed the sound of Robbie's voice to find him standing behind the cashier counter. The other teens crowded around the area as well, taking photos of something on the floor. Dipper pushed his way to the front and felt his insides churn. 

Two imprints were drawn on the floor, one of a woman and the other of a man. Corpses had lain here. Dipper's skin crawled as he gazed at the body markings. The ghosts must be around this area. Was it his imagination or had the air gone colder? 

"I dare someone to lie down in one of those," Robbie challenged. "How about you do it, pipsqueak?" 

"No," Dipper responded automatically. He crossed his arms and glared at Robbie. "This store is haunted by ghosts who want to kill us. Lying down where they died might anger them and force them out of hiding!" 

Wendy's friends stared at him for a few long minutes that felt like eternity. Dipper blushed in embarrassment under their judging, calculating gazes, but he stood his ground. They were in real danger here. 

"What a killjoy," Robbie muttered. The other teens voiced their agreement. 

Wendy stepped up, giving all her friends an angry glare. "Dipper's right, guys. We need to leave." 

"You're believing a child?" the blonde guy asked in disbelief. 

"I'm believing my friend!" Wendy snapped. 

Dipper's heart did Jumping Jacks in his chest. 

Robbie scoffed loudly. "Like he's telling the truth. Probably got a little too scared of the spooky abandoned store and decided to make up a story to get us to leave. It's just a store. There are no ghosts here. See?" Putting down his guitar, Robbie laid down in one of the body drawings.

'Wow. What an idiot! I'm looking forward to seeing him die.'

"No! Don't do that!" Dipper cried. 

The imprint on the floor began to glow. 

"Robbie, you idiot, why'd you do that?" Wendy hissed angrily. 

Her friends backed away from the counter, horror filling their eyes as both imprints glowed. Robbie sat up, looking confused as to why his friends looked scared. All the lights in the store flickered rapidly, even the ones on the machines. The girl typing on her phone suddenly disappeared, and everyone screamed. Dipper picked up the phone and saw that it was typing out screams. 

"Tambry!" Wendy gasped, pointing at the security monitor. A girl was pounding against the screen, desperation and horror showing on her face as she tried to get out of her digital prison. 

Across the room, the guy playing the dancing game disappeared. He reappeared in the screen and screamed in terror as the game's arrows descended on him. 

'Boy, this is hilarious!' Bill laughed. 'Why aren't you laughing, Pine Tree?" 

"Because it's not-" Dipper stumbled as his vision spun. Everyone getting imprisoned by ghosts wasn't funny. It wasn't! It was the most disturbing thing Dipper had seen in the past few weeks. Suffering wasn't- was hilarious. He should laugh. Because it was funny. It was funny. 

Dipper covered his mouth in horror as a laugh escaped him. Fortunately, no one noticed as they were too busy being scared to pay attention. Robbie shouted something and pointed at the doors, which reattached to their hinges and slammed shut as if responding to whatever he said. Wendy ran over to the door and tried pushing it open. 

"What the- guys, it's locked!" she said fearfully. 

"Out of my way!" Robbie yelled, grabbing the cash register. He threw it at the door, and a greenish blue glow enveloped it. The cash register disappeared, and everyone screamed again. 

"Wait, guys! The ghosts have a reason for why they're doing this! We have to talk to them!" Dipper said, trying to remain calm. "Then they'll let us out of here!" 

""Oh, they'll let us out of here!' That makes a lot of sense!" Robbie snapped, though Dipper could tell he was terrified.

'Serves him right for insulting us.' 

Not now. Dipper ignored the demon as best he could. 

"Yeah, right. I'm sure the ghost just wants to talk about his feelings," the blonde guy said sarcastically. He cried in fear as a blue glow lifted him into the air, and he disappeared. 

Dipper frowned. There was a pattern here. But what was that pattern? He pulled out Journal 3 and skimmed through it to the ghost page. Reason, reason. Bill said the ghosts hated teenagers. 

"Lee!" the tattooed guy cried. He backed away, wringing his cap in his hands. "Okay, kid, I'm with you 100%!" 

Suddenly Mabel flew up from behind him, hovering in the air. Her eyes were completely white, and her arms were outstretched in a T-pose. 

"Welcome," she said in a deep voice. 

"It got Mabel!" Dipper cried in horror. 

"Welcome to your graves, young trespassers," Not-Mabel continued. The ghost laughed evilly, kicking its legs in the air. 

"We're super sorry for hanging out in your store!" Wendy apologized. Robbie nodded desperately beside her. 

The pattern clicked in Dipper's mind, and he almost gasped in realization. Tambry had been on her phone, Thompson had been playing a video game, and Lee had been sarcastic. The ghosts attacked if a teenager did teenage things. Would they be docile with a child who wasn't a teenager?

"I'm not a teenager!" Dipper yelled. Wendy, Robbie, and the other guy gave him a weird look, clearly questioning why he would randomly yell that. "What? The ghost hates teenagers. I'm not a teenager, so it shouldn't be mad at me!" 

"Wait. You're not a teenager?" Not-Mabel asked, sounding surprised. 

"I said that twice," Dipper pointed out. 

"Oh. Sorry about that. You're free to go." Not-Mabel smiled warmly at him. 

"Not until you free my friends," Dipper attempted a compromise. "They didn't mean any harm, honest." 

Not-Mabel narrowed her eyes. "No. Teenagers must be punished!" 

Dipper sighed and prepared himself for complete and utter embarrassment. He took off his hat and widened his eyes. 

"Please?" he asked in a soft, pleading voice. 

The glow around Mabel disappeared, and her eyes returned to normal as two ghosts appeared above her. They were an old couple and matched the imprints behind the counter. The old man was holding Mabel's hair, keeping her in the air without dropping her. The couple looked at Dipper in that fond way people looked at little children, and he fought the urge to snap at them. 

"Alright, little boy. We'll let them go on one condition," the old man said. 

"Name it," Dipper said, ready to do anything if it meant getting out of there. 

"Do you know any funny little dances?" the old man asked. 

Dipper froze and cast a look at the teens behind him. "Is there anything else I can do?" he asked. He did know a funny little dance, but he hadn't done that since he was at least five. 

'Oh gosh no.' Was Bill snooping through his memories? Stop that! 

"No!" the ghost man shrieked with the most horrible timing ever. Fire blazed around him. Dipper almost thought he had responded to his thoughts for a second. 

"Okay, okay, okay!" Dipper rushed to calm the ghost. "I... I do know one." He kicked the floor with his shoe, having to force out his next words. "I know the- the Lamby Lamby Dance. But I can't do it without a lamb costume!" Surely that would get the ghost, and he wouldn't have to embarrass himself so badly in front of Wendy-

The ghost snapped his fingers, and Dipper's clothes changed to a lamb costume. 

'Pine Tree. Don't you freaking dare.' 

Dipper's heart dropped to his toes. He heard someone snicker behind him and wished he could rip that person apart. It seemed he didn't have a choice. 

'No. Please. Don't. You'll shame us.' 

Dipper closed his eyes and reluctantly began the dance, much to Bill's chagrin. He could hear Wendy's friends holding back snorts of laughter, and he wished they would shut up. He was doing this to save their butts! The least they could do was show some respect. 

'Tonight I will give you the worst nightmares you've had in your entire life,' Bill threatened. 

Dipper finished the dance with a finger against his cheek. He was sweating from embarrassment and didn't dare meet Wendy's eyes. 

The ghosts clapped. "That was some fine girly dancing, boy!" the old man said. "Your friends are free." 

The door opened. Dipper was relieved to see his clothes magically replace the lamb costume. Around the room, the rest of Wendy's friends popped back into reality. Avoiding the gazes of Wendy, Robbie, and that other guy, Dipper headed over to Mabel. He could feel Bill's anger at him, but it had been necessary, he hoped. 

"I'm never going to eat or do anything ever again," Mabel groaned, clutching her stomach. 

Dipper forced a smile and ignored the chatter between the teens as the trapped people questioned the free ones. He could only imagine what the ones who saw his dance were saying about him, and he doubted it was anything nice. He helped Mabel up and walked her out the door, refusing to look at anyone, not even Wendy. Someone kill him now. 

'Gladly.'

As they drove home, Dipper determinedly kept his gaze locked on the trees breezing past outside the window. Unfortunately, this meant he missed the concerned looks Wendy shot at him or the fact that none of the teenagers had laughed at him yet. Mabel squinted at the car door on her side, reading the nicer message she had written under a meaner one. 

"What kind of sick joke is this?" she grumbled at the "You look nice today!". 

The car stopped in front of the Mystery Shack, and Dipper and Mabel got out. As they walked to the door, a TV suddenly launched out the window. The twins stopped and stared at it in surprise. Grunkle Stan's head popped out of the window. 

"Couldn't find the remote," he said, an obvious excuse. 

Dipper didn't even try to force a smile or a laugh and simply helped the still sick Mabel inside. He felt humiliated like the barest parts of him had been ripped open and exposed. What would Wendy think of him now? Would she ever speak to him again?

Mabel collapsed onto her bed without a word. Dipper placed the journal and amulet under his pillow and slipped off his vest. Physically he was fine, but emotionally he felt exhausted. He flopped onto his bed and was ready to close his eyes when a yellow triangle appeared in front of his face. Dipper screamed and fell off of his bed, but Bill floated back in front of him, arms crossed and eye narrowed. 

"How-what-huh?" Dipper stammered. 

'Relax, I'm not actually here,' Bill said, holding up a hand in a calming gesture. 'I'm still trapped in your mind. Just thought you'd like to talk to something visible instead of the air.' 

"Yeah," Dipper agreed, heart still racing from surprise. "Yeah, I would." He glanced at his bed. "I should probably go to sleep now. Can this wait till morning?"

Bill twirled a cane in his hand. 'Just wanted to remind you that I'm giving you nightmares tonight. If you wake up and have trouble falling asleep, just remind yourself that all your chances with Ice- if you even had one in the first place- are now gone!' 

Dipper bunched his blankets in his hands, anger and shame boiling inside him like water in a pot. "Is that all? You just wanted to mock me?" he demanded. 

'I'm warning you to not be stupid,' Bill said. 'You're acting like a rash immature child. You can be better than that.' Before Dipper could reply, the triangle vanished. 

Dipper ducked under his covers, face red and eyes watery. He'd made a fool of himself. But he'd had to do it! If he hadn't they'd be trapped in that store forever! 

'You could've exorcised them.' 

Dipper buried his face into his pillow. Embarrassment burned like fire through his veins. He wished he could disappear. He wished he could go back in time and erase that moment from history. Why'd he agree to do that silly dance? He shouldn't have done it. He should've listened to Bill . 

___

Another string added. There weren't enough yet, but Bill was patient. All crafts took time to create and perfect, and this one was necessary so Bill would wait. The walls were already starting to crumble. Just a few more nudges, and they would be gone. 

And the world would be his.

Chapter Text

Dipper avoided Wendy like the plague the next few days after the convenience store incident. Every time he saw her, a sick feeling formed in his stomach; he had no idea how her thoughts about him had changed, and he was too scared to find out. The idea of her laughing and mocking him for the childish display he'd been forced to do sent his legs weak and his palms clammy. He couldn't talk to her. He'd die before she'd even say anything. 

Bill wasn't making his troubles any easier. Now that he had worked out a way to make Dipper see him, the triangle floated around almost constantly, a hovering glowing yellow that Dipper never lost sight of. Whenever Dipper considered talking to Wendy, Bill would whisper that nothing would go well if he did, that he would be ridiculed, that Wendy would never love a baby like him. His words were exactly what Dipper was feeling, and Dipper bailed out of talking to Wendy when Bill inevitably suggested avoiding it. 

Avoiding Wendy was harder than Dipper had thought it would be. She seemed to approach more frequently than usual during her shift, and he took it as a bad sign. Pity must be driving her to talk to him. People always did that when they thought his feelings were hurt. Wendy must see him like they do now: as a pathetic helpless child. 

"Why am I so weak, Bill?" Dipper muttered as he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. What started as a simple trip to the restroom became a moment of self-deprecation after seeing Wendy walk into the gift shop for the start of her shift. Dipper had swiftly vacated the room of his presence, much to Mabel's confusion. Now Dipper stared at his noodle arms and small stature and couldn't help but notice how childlike he was. His heart squeezed in pain, wishing he was stronger. 

'What's that thing humans do that causes them to excrete liquid?' The triangle sitting on the faucet tapped the bricks below his eye in thought. 'Oh! Exercise!' 

"I don't think that's the issue," Dipper said, remembering an event only two days after the ghost fiasco. He'd met a bunch of creatures called manotaurs who'd had him climb an entire mountain to confront a multi-headed bear. He'd gotten plenty of exercise in the last couple of weeks, what with all the running he'd done. 

'I was going to say muscle doesn't matter. Look at me. I have the thinnest arms in the world, and I'm the most powerful demon in the multiverse!' Bill leaned back against the mirror, eye half-closed with pride. His expressions were a torture to read, what with only one eye to judge emotions from. 

Dipper ran a hand over his face, grunting in frustration. Why did Bill always have to make conversations about him? It was "I'm all-powerful" this and "I can't believe I'm stuck in a weak mortal human" that. 

"I can't even bring myself to talk to Wendy," he said. "I-I just wish things could go back to the way they were before the store!" 

'This is the millionth time you've ranted about her, Pine Tree.' Bill did not look amused. 'Don't bother asking me for advice again. I can't rewind time. Besides, she's not worth your time. Greatness awaits you!' 

Dipper crossed his arms and scowled at the tiny triangle lounging on the faucet. "You're messing with me." 

Bill laughed. 'Messing with you? You wound me, Pine Tree. I'm merely speaking the truth.' He tapped his eye. 'I can see everything from your past to your future. I know what you're capable of, regardless of my presence in your head. Your infatuation with Red is going to bring you down if you don't stop your silly human fantasies.' 

Dipper's mouth pressed into a firm line as he compressed his anger. Bill was so annoying. Dipper doubted he was telling the truth; the triangle had no qualms about voicing his dislike of Dipper's crush on Wendy. Bill was probably going to get what he wanted either way; Dipper's chances with Wendy were practically ruined after the ghost incident. His shoulders heavy with stress, Dipper washed his hands and suddenly noticed a detail he was surprised to have not spotted yet. 

"Why can't I see you in the mirror?" he asked Bill, pointing at the lack of a glowing yellow triangle sitting on the faucet in the mirror. 

Bill floated off the sink and hovered next to Dipper's ear, hanging out in his peripheral vision. In the mirror, the space below Dipper's ear was Bill-free. 

'I told you, I can't leave your mind,' he said. 'What you see isn't real, just an image created by your mind to fill in the gaps where I should physically be. Like I said before, do you really want to stand around talking to air?'

Dipper's blood ran cold at the thought that he was hallucinating, and he wondered if he was going insane. Maybe he'd lost his mind while he'd been sick and Bill really was a figment of his imagination. Oh no. Had the last few weeks been a hallucination, too?

Bill floated in front of Dipper's face, waving his arms frantically. 'Woah, Pine Tree, calm down! You're not insane.' He coughed discreetly after that last sentence. 'Look, I can make your nose bleed!' 

A sharp stinging pain attacked Dipper's nose, and he clasped his hands to his nostrils with a cry of pain. Hot metallic liquid touched his skin, and he pulled his hands back to find them covered with a red, sticky substance. His blood. The pain immediately subsided, and Dipper felt the bleeding stop. 

"I guess I'm not insane," he said shakily. Fear pricked his skin like ice. Bill could hurt his body from inside his mind. Helplessness crashed down on Dipper. As terrifying as Bill's ability was, Dipper knew he couldn't do anything about it. Bill was truly stuck inside his brain, and nothing could pry him out of Dipper's mind. 

He cleaned the rest of the blood off of his face and exited the bathroom, wanting nothing more than to sleep for the rest of the day. It was only an hour after lunch, but he didn't care. He felt like mashed up garbage and hoped nothing crazy would happen that day. 

But Grunkle Stan crashed that idea to the ground and smashed it into a billion irrecoverable pieces. 

___

"Yay! A party!" Mabel cheered, flinging herself onto the couch next to Dipper. 

Stan had told them about his idea to scam money from kids and teenagers by throwing a party at the Mystery Shack. Dipper had complained, but Stan shut him down by telling him that the party was happening whether he liked it or not. And yes, he said it exactly like that. The Pines went and got party supplies, Mabel vibrating like a hyper Pomeranian the whole time. She loved parties! All the sparkle! All the glitter! The ear breaking music! 

Dipper was less enthusiastic, and his apathy became worse the second Wendy came in to help Stan set up for the party. Mabel was not pleased by his attitude. It was a party! How could he not be excited?

"Oh, no, Dipper! My stomach hurts! I think I'm going to- bleh!" Mabel faked vomiting and sprayed silly string into Dipper's face. 

His tense, nervous expression relaxed slightly at the joke. He began miming heaving, hands wrapped tightly around his stomach area. "Grunkle Stan, what did you feed us?" Mabel giggled as he sprayed pink silly string on her; that joke never got old. Soon both the twins were covered in purple and pink silly string, laughing their faces off. 

Wendy approached them, hiding a can of silly string behind her back. Dipper visibly tensed at the sight of her, his smile dropping slightly, and Mabel got him in the eye with her purple silly string. 

"Guys! Guys! Stop! Something terrible just happened!" she said, still hiding something behind her back. 

Mabel waited for the big bomb reveal while Dipper scrubbed furiously at his eye with his fist. 

Wendy faked a vomiting sound and sprayed both of the twins with green silly string. Mabel laughed so hard her sides hurt, and Dipper forced a weak laugh, still massaging his eye. Mabel got off the couch, and she and Wendy started throwing gold confetti over Stan, who looked extremely unamused. 

"Comedy gold!" Mabel yelled. 

Stan was done with the silliness. "Alright, alright! Party supplies are off limits!" he snapped, taking the bag of gold confetti away from Mabel. 

"Mabel, I'm going to the bathroom. This silly string won't come out," Dipper said, holding a hand to his eye.

"Alright. Be back in time for the party, okay bro?" Mabel requested. 

"It won't take that long to wash my eye," Dipper said matter-of-factly. Mabel waved to him as he left, leaving just her, Stan, Wendy, and Soos in the soon-to-be party room. 

"Mr. Pines, whose birthday is it again?" Soos asked as he hung up strings of party decorations. They were purple and blue triangles, which bothered Mabel. She would have burned them all to ashes if they had been yellow, but Stan had made the correct choice in getting triangles of a different color. Mabel glanced at the door Dipper exited through, wondering if Bill had been bothering him. He just seemed so upset lately. Mabel hoped the party cheered him up. 

"Nobody's. Thought this party might be a good way to get kids to spend money at the Shack." Stan unfurled a poster with a donkey on it. Pin the tail on the donkey. A classic party game! This night was going to be fantastic! 

Soos clearly agreed. "Nice," he said. 

"The young people of this town want fun, I'll smother them with fun!" Stan vowed, determination flashing in his eyes. 

Mabel poured herself some diet cola in a party cup. Stan hadn't given her any duties, so she was chilling while the decorations went up. As if he had heard her thoughts, Stan shoved a couple pieces of pink paper in her face. 

"Go copy these flyers. Make Dipper join you if you see him on the way there," Stan ordered. The door to the room opened, and Dipper walked in, his right eye a bright red from vigorous rubbing. "Oi! Dipper! You and Mabel are going to go copy these flyers." 

Dipper's eyes flicked to Wendy. "Copy them? Yeah, I can go... go do that. C'mon Mabel." Dipper hurried toward the door leading outside. "Let's go to the copier store." 

Mabel squinted judgingly at her brother. He was acting strange. His words moved so fast, and he was putting his hands in his pockets. Was he nervous? About what? Mabel followed his gaze to where it kept looking, and her eyes landed on Wendy. A knowing grin crawled onto her face. Dipper was in love! Oh, she was going to have a field night with this! A party was the perfect opportunity for him and Wendy to bond and dance and kiss! 

Stan stepped in front of Dipper as he reached for the doorknob. "Save the trouble, kid. You know the old copier in my office? I finally fixed that old girl up. Good as new!" He grinned proudly. 

Good as new was a strange description as she and Dipper went to the copier room and found a copier so beat up it looked like it was from the 1900s. Winged bugs buzzed around the machine, and black beetles crawled over the dusty worn metal. Mabel gasped in excitement. 

"Butterflies!" she said, referring to the winged buzzing creatures. Those were obviously flies, but she didn't care. 

"Does it even work?" Dipper asked, opening up the copier and ripping a couple of cobwebs in the process. He pressed the start button and rested his forearm on the machine. 

With a whir, the machine came to life, and a green bar of light traveled across the machine and over Dipper's arm. Dipper jerked his arm back, startled. The twins watched curiously as electricity sparked from the machine. It twitched and spewed black smoke through the cracks in its frame, straight into the twins' faces. Dipper and Mabel coughed and waved the smoke away. A piece of paper slid out of the machine; on it was a picture of Dipper's arm. 

"Success!" Mabel held up the paper triumphantly. The paper suddenly wrinkled of its own accord, and Mabel dropped it in surprise. It fell to the ground, and the picture of Dipper's arm gained color and tore itself from the sheet. It crawled onto the stub its form ended at and reached toward the twins.

Dipper snatched Mabel's cup of soda away from her and threw it over the arm. A sizzling sound filled the air as the skin on the arm bubbled. The twins watched in silence as the arm dissolved into nothing. 

"Oh my gosh," Dipper said in shock. "Mabel, I think this copier can copy human beings!" 

Mabel gasped. "Do you realize what this means?" She and Dipper locked eyes, and Mabel sprayed his face with her purple silly string. "Blah!" She grinned, amused by herself. 

Dipper was nowhere near as amused. "Agh! My eye!" He clutched the sensitive squishy body part as it burned from the silly string. "Mabel, I just washed that stuff out!" 

"Whoops. My bad!" Mabel giggled. 

They copied the flyers, taking great care not to touch the copier with their bodies, and joined the others in the party room. Chairs had been set up along with balloons and shiny stars that Mabel wanted to leap up and touch. Stan forced everyone to stand in a line, coincidentally from shortest to tallest, and he stood in front of them holding a clipboard. 

"Alright party people... and Dipper. Let's talk business. Soos, because you work for free- and you begged- I'm letting you be DJ," Stan began the role listing. 

"You won't regret it, Mr. Pines," Soos promised. "I bought this book that teaches me how to DJ r-r-right!" He held up the DJ book proudly. 

Stan was not impressed. "Not encouraging," he said before moving to stand in front of Wendy. "Wendy, you and Mabel are working the ticket stand."

"What?" Mabel cried. Ticket stand? She couldn't work the ticket stand, not when a party would be happening! "But Grunkle Stan, this party is my chance to make new friends!" 

"No buts," Stan said without a trace of empathy. "Dipper, you... do whatever you want, I guess." 

Dipper was staring glaze-eyed at a random spot in the air and didn't hear him. An idea popped into Mabel's head, and a mischievous grin spread across her face. 

"Dipper can work the ticket stand with Wendy," she suggested, trying to keep her tone as innocent as possible. 

Her suggestion snapped Dipper out of fantasy land. "Work the ticket stand with who now?" he asked, alarm in his voice. 

"You realize, Mabel, that that means making Dipper work with Wendy all alone, no leaving, just the two of them all night?" Stan clarified. 

Mabel's grin grew wider. "Oh, ye-" 

" No !" Dipper shouted. Really loudly. He paled as all gazes snapped to him. "I-I mean... Gotta go shower!" He raced from the room before anyone could question his outburst, his cheeks flaming red with an embarrassed blush. 

"So Wendy and Mabel will work the ticket stand," Stan said with finality. 

Mabel's heart dropped. "But I want to attend the party!" she complained. 

"I already told you, no buts. Now get ready." Stan spun on his heel and walked around the party room, examining the decorations and jotting stuff down on his clipboard. 

Mabel crossed her arms and huffed angrily. Why did Dipper get to have fun and not her? They were twins! They should get equal privileges! She stormed out of the party room and up the stairs to the attic, ready to scream loudly into her pillow at the unfairness of the situation. Her angry footsteps- or footstomps- faltered as she neared the door and heard Dipper talking on the other side. 

"I don't need Mabel! She'll just overreact and mess it up!" 

Mabel's heart stopped. Pain, sharp and hot, blazed through her mind like lava pouring out of a volcano. She stepped away from the door, angry and hurt tears burning her eyes, and she fought not to cry. First Stan took away her perfect opportunity to make friends from the town, and now Dipper was apparently mad at her. Why was tonight so horrible? Turning her back on the attic door, Mabel bolted to the bathroom. She locked the door and slid to the ground, pulling her sweater over her head. If only she could obey Stan, go to the party, and figure out why Dipper said those things... If only she could be in multiple places at once... 

If only she could clone herself...

Mabel's head slowly rose out from sweater town as an idea formed in her mind. It was crazy, insane. It was brilliant. Exactly what she needed to do. Mabel grinned and swung open the bathroom door, questioning why she'd let herself get so sad anyway. Positivity always won in the end! She skipped her way to Stan's old office, every inch of her begging to burst with happiness. She could go to the party after all! She patted the copier affectionately, laughing as it spewed smoke out of the top. She lifted the lid and lay down on the surface. Time to multitask! She clicked the start button and held her breath in anticipation as the green light washed over her, taking in every detail of her body. A sheet wider than her slid out of the copier and onto the floor. 

Mabel watched, her jaw dropped open in amazement, as another her tore itself away from the paper. Her clone looked at her, and she looked back at it. 

"I'm so adorable and lovable!" Mabel squealed. She jumped off the copier and gave her clone a hug. 

"This is awesome!" the clone said enthusiastically, poking at herself. "I exist!" 

Mabel cleared her throat and tried to make her expression as serious as possible. "Alright. Listen up, me."

The clone stood to attention, equally trying and failing to make her expression serious. 

"I've got a brother to have a heartfelt conversation with and a party to go nuts at. At the same time, I must also be with Wendy at the ticket stand because Stan is scary when we don't do what he says."

"So I party and you man the ticket stand?" the clone asked. 

"Wrong!" Mabel snapped, the perfect imitation of a military officer. She returned her expression to a "neutral" one. "You run the ticket stand. I sort out the Dipper and party problem. Understood, soldier?"

"Understood, commander." The clone saluted. 

Mabel broke, unable to continue faking being serious. She and her clone burst out laughing, slapping their knees and shaking as they wheezed from laughter. Mabel wiped the tears from her eyes and focused on the missions at hand. 

"Alright, Mabel 2. Go, go, go!" Mabel ushered Mabel 2 out of the copier room. She shut the door behind her and hurried to the attic. She had special party clothes, and tonight was the night to wear them! 

Party time, here she comes!

___

"Of all the excuses to use, I picked the shower? Wendy's going to hate me even more now!" Dipper ranted, furious with himself for the stupid excuse that had slipped out of his mouth. 

'Shooting Star is working the ticket stand with her, isn't she?' Bill hovered over Mabel's things in case Dipper didn't understand who he was talking about. He didn't refer to Mabel a lot. 'Ask her to talk to Ice for you and get the full picture since you're clearly so hesitant to do so yourself.'

"Make Mabel...?" Dipper shook his head, appalled by the suggestion. He knew all too well how bad it was to have someone else solve a problem for you. Gideon had definitely been an... enlightening experience. Not that Wendy would try to kill Mabel. "No! I need to talk to Wendy myself! I don't need Mabel! She'll just overreact and mess it up!"

'Wow. You really don't have a lot of faith in your sister.' Bill chuckled. 'Can't say I blame you. She's an annoyance, that one.' 

"I didn't mean she was annoying," Dipper snapped. "Mabel just gets too excited about romance, and she'll do crazy things to get people together. Go look in my memories if you want proof."

'I'll pass. But that party sounds fun. Are we going?' 

Dipper scratched an itch on his arm absently, his mind whirling as he debated whether or not to go to the party. Parties were full of loud, annoying people, but Mabel had wanted so badly to go. He should at least collect enough memories for the both of them no matter how much he wanted to curl up in bed and die in embarrassment from that awful excuse he'd made. 

'Party! Party! Party!' Bill chanted. 

"You're not going to give me peace until I go, are you?" Dipper asked, unamused. 

'Parties are great, Pine Tree. Especially when you get to the part where you rip people's heads off.' 

Dipper's mouth dropped open in shock and horror. "You go to parties where you rip people's heads off? What the heck, man?"

'What did you expect demon parties to be like? Murder is the most fun activity there is!' 

Dipper gulped nervously but headed downstairs to wait for the party regardless of how disturbed he felt now. At least Wendy was at the ticket stand. Avoiding her would be a piece of cake. He poured a cup of punch for himself and collapsed onto a couch, perfectly fine with sitting there and not moving until the end of the party. It hadn't started yet, but he could see the long line of people clamoring to get in. He was surprised to see so many people eager to get into the party. Guess Stan's flyers worked. He sipped his punch and found it to be quite delicious. He saw Mabel run into the room and waved at her. She was moving too fast to see him, and she was out the door before he could call out to her. 

"Hey, dude." Soos came over, headphones resting on his shoulders. "Want to DJ with me, man?"

Dipper glanced down at his red cup of soda and the cushions he was lounging on. Then he looked outside and was reminded of the crowd that would be swarming the dance floor in a few moments. The couch would not be safe. 

"Sure." He drained the rest of his punch and followed Soos to the DJ set. "How does this work?" 

"No idea!" Soos pressed a random key, and the loud blaring of an air horn honked out of the keyboard. 

Bill's glee was like the glare of the sun on a burning summer day. 'Press them all! Make the most annoying, irritating combination you can!' he enthusiastically encouraged.

Dipper tapped a couple of keys and found himself more interested than he would admit in figuring out which key made what sound. He and Soos played around for a couple of minutes, and Dipper became so engrossed in the keyboard that he didn't notice Mabel walk onto the dance floor wearing a completely different outfit. Nor did he notice that she was also still outside, sitting beside Wendy at the ticket counter. Electric keyboards truly did possess a magic more powerful than any other in the world. 

___

"Heck yeah! Party time!" Mabel cheered as the doors opened and the crowd poured in. 

To distinguish herself from her clone, Mabel changed out of her gray lightning bolt sweater to a pink shirt and put a red ribbon in her hair. The ribbon bounced to the beat of the song Soos and- was that Dipper? Why was Dipper DJing with Soos? Mabel ran up to the platform and leaned over the edge, shouting up to Dipper with the loudest shout she could muster. 

"DIPPER! WE NEED TO TALK!" she screamed. 

Dipper heard her and crouched down to be at her eye level. "WHAT?" he yelled back. 

"I NEED TO TALK TO YOU!" Mabel shouted over the din. 

"COME UP." Dipper made room for Mabel to climb onto the platform, and she did, her circular earrings rattling as she moved. She had debated between choosing circle earrings and triangle earrings. The choice had been easy. 

The twins ducked behind the platform, away from the blaring speakers and screaming crowd of energized children and sweaty teens. 

"I thought you were working the ticket stand with Wendy," Dipper said the moment they could normally speak without breaking their vocal chords. 

"Not important. I... may or may not have overheard you talking to yourself before the party." Mabel studied her shoes, scared of what she would find in her brother's eyes. Anger? Distaste? Disappointment? 

"That was nothing," Dipper said automatically. "I was not talking to myself, okay? That was Bill. I was talking to Bill." He faked a cough. "And that conversation was born purely out of embarrassment, okay? I'm not a little kid. I can talk to Wendy just fine. Oh- stop laughing!" He glared at the air right beside Mabel's head. 

"Bill, laughing at people is rude," Mabel scolded the demon. She assumed Dipper was actually looking at something she couldn't see, so she shot a glare at the space he was staring at. Then she remembered why they were having this conversation and played with her hair nervously. "So... I was just wondering... Did-did you really mean it when-when you said you didn't need me? And that I'll just mess things up?" 

Dipper's eyes widened with horror as Mabel curled in on herself, unable to hold back the pain those words brought her. "What? N-no! I only said that because Bill was making fun of me. Yes, subtle insults count, Bill." He pulled Mabel into a hug, squeezing her tightly. "I'll always need you, Mabel. Especially now. Who else will tell Bill off for me?" 

A smile forced its way onto Mabel's face, the type that you can never hold back. "Bill quakes before me," she joked. "Speaking of Bill, has he been bothering you about the lamb dance?" 

"Well..." Dipper scratched the back of his neck, a sign that he didn't want to discuss that topic. "Nothing I haven't thought of myself." He picked at his shoelaces. 

Mabel narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. "Don't listen to him, broski. He's a jerk who can go shove himself down a vat of chocolate milk with glitter and glue in it." 

Dipper snickered, and Mabel mentally patted herself on the back. She should save that joke threat for later. The twins climbed back onto the DJ platform, and Dipper rejoined Soos at the keyboard. Mabel was about to rejoin the dancing when she spotted two girls sitting by themselves in the chairs against the wall. One of the girls was huge and had a lizard perched on her shoulder; the other girl was tiny compared to everyone else in the Shack and was reaching into a bowl of popcorn. Mabel's potential-friend-alarm rang in the back of her mind, and she cracked her knuckles. Mission one of the party was complete. Time for mission two. She danced over to the two girls and leaped into a seat beside the one with the lizard. 

"I think it's cool that you have a lizard on your shoulder," she said the second she sat down. "I'm Mabel. What're your names?" 

"I'm Grenda," the lizard girl said in a voice far too deep for a pre-teen girl to possess. "And this is Candy."

Candy, the smaller girl, lifted her hand up to wave, and Mabel gasped in awe. "You have fork hands!" she said, amazed by the forks taped to the girl's fingers. Each fork had pierced a piece of buttery popcorn, and Mabel instantly wanted to try the contraption out herself. 

"Improved human function," Candy said, and she and Grenda laughed at the joke. 

Heaven opened up above her, and doves flew down from the clouds to rest on her head and shoulders. Reality was too good to be true. Mabel grinned and relished the imaginary flower petals drifting over her. "I found my people," she whispered to herself. 

She stayed on the chair beside Candy and Grenda, and the three of them discussed topics that they enjoyed. Mabel soon learned that the two other girls loved hot boys, romance, and Sev'ral Timez just as much as she did. And most importantly, all of them were weird and did extremely stupid things without caring what anyone else thought. They were so alike Mabel wanted to scream in joy. The trio vacated the chairs to jam it out on the dance floor, and Mabel immediately noticed that Dipper was no longer on the DJ platform. Confused, Mabel scanned the party, wondering where he could have gone. Surely he hadn't left? The party was great! A couple of high school guys were dumping soda down each other's throats! Cool! 

And then Mabel saw it. The most pitiful thing she had ever seen. 

Dipper was sitting on a couch, cup of soda in hand. Mabel planned to go over and introduce Candy and Grenda to him, but then Wendy got there before she could. Wendy sat down and seemed to be trying to make small talk with Dipper. Her brother jumped off the couch, face bright red and sweating. His mouth was moving rapidly, so he was probably stammering an excuse out. Then, much to Mabel's disapproval, he turned and ran out of the room, clearly overwhelmed by his crushing feelings of passionate love. Wendy sank against the couch with a sigh, looking disappointed. Mabel tutted, disappointed in her brother. Wendy obviously had something very important to talk to Dipper about- and Mabel had the feeling she knew what it was. 

New mission: help Dipper and Wendy talk because leaving love to Dipper never gets anywhere. 

Mabel was about to run after her brother, but a microphone crackled on. Soos' voice echoed around the room as he spoke into the microphone. 

"It's time for the long awaited fight for the PARTY CROWN!" He pressed a key and shook his head. "No, wait, wrong one. Uh, is this it?" He pressed another key. "Not this. Uh... Never mind. Who will compete for the party crown?" 

The crowd muttered loudly among themselves as three girls pushed their way up to the stage. The lead girl was a blonde with heavy make-up and highly expensive rich girl clothes, and she examined her nails vainly as she leaned against the platform. 

"Obviously there's no need for a competition when I'm here," the rich girl said. "Hand it over. Any crown belongs to me." She beckoned for Soos to give the crown to her. 

Soos quickly read his DJ book one more time. "It says here you need to compete to win the crown."

The rich girl scoffed and threw back her hair. "Compete? Like who would compete against me?"

"Who's that?" Mabel whispered to Candy and Grenda. 

"Pacifica Northwest," Grenda replied, a dark look in her eyes as she said the name. "She practically rules this town."

"She's so scary," Candy added. 

Mabel put on her best thinking face. If she could beat Pacifica, she could prove to her friends that there wasn't anything to fear from the living rich valley girl stereotype. But she needed to help Dipper and Wendy. She glanced out the window and saw Mabel 2 still selling tickets. She was so smart. 

"I'll compete!" Mabel yelled, jumping up and down so Soos could spot her. "Just give me a sec, Soos! I got to do something real quick!" 

"Sure thing, hambone!" Soos called back. He gave her a friendly smile and a thumbs up. 

"Um, who the heck are you?" Pacifica asked snottily as Mabel raced out of the party room. "Hey! How dare you ignore me?" 

Mabel ran through the Shack, almost tripping over furniture and cables as she rushed to the copier. She slammed the door open and threw herself onto the copier. She was still panting as the green light bathed her in its glow once more. The sound of printing paper filled the air, and another Mabel emerged from the white sheet when it landed on the floor. Mabel jumped off the copier and faced the clone. 

"You know what to do, Mabel 3,"  she said. 

"Of course, Classic Mabel," Mabel 3 said, saluting as she straightened her spine. 

Mabel grinned and high-fived herself. "Operation Get-Dipper-to-Confess-His-Love-and-Stop-Being-An-Oblivious- Nincompoop is on!" 

"Ooo, cool, long names! I love those!" Mabel 3 giggled. 

"I know, they're so fun!" Mabel agreed. "Don't know why Dipper doesn't like them, what with all his overcomplicated plans." Both Mabels laughed uproariously. Dipper was so funny sometimes. 

"I'll report back after I get Dipper and Wendy to hook up," Mabel 3 said. "Go win that dance battle, girl!" 

"You know I will!" Mabel spotted a marker and grabbed it. She drew a small number 3 on Mabel 3's bow and set the marker down. "Now we can tell each other apart!" 

Mabel 3 gasped. "Genius!" she praised, and they high-fived with a laugh. 

The Mabels split up, Mabel going back to the party room and Mabel 3 searching the Mystery Shack for Dipper. Mabel stepped out onto the dance floor, locking eyes with Pacifica. The rich girl crossed her arms and flipped her hair cockily in a challenge. Mabel grinned and adjusted the bow on her head. Pacifica was dead meat.

Chapter Text

"I can't do it, I can't do it, I can't do it!" Dipper paced the floor in the attic, hands tugging his hair in agitation. He was frustrated and ashamed of himself for running away from Wendy like a coward, like a little boy. "Why can't I talk to her like a normal person?"

Unfortunately, Bill was sick of dealing with the same problem over and over and was ignoring Dipper's inner turmoil. He'd even made the hallucination of himself disappear, which meant Dipper was actually talking to himself this time. Dipper sat down on the floor and took out a pen, chewing on it as he thought about how to fix the Wendy mess. He needed a plan. He rummaged through his belongings until he grabbed a notebook. Flipping it open, he tapped the tip of his pen against the page. The plan needed to be thorough or else it wouldn't work. 

As he pondered the best ways to approach Wendy, the attic door opened, and Mabel walked inside. "Hello, brother!" she greeted him, her voice energetic. The party must be crazy. 

"Hey, Mabel. How's the party?" Dipper scribbled down step number 1. Return to the party. 

"Great, loud, exciting. I saw Wendy tried to talk to you," Mabel said. 

Dipper froze and panicked. "I had to go to the bathroom! I totally didn't run away from her like a child or anything!" He frantically busied himself with writing his plan, ignoring Mabel's knowing smirk.

"You love her, don't you?" Mabel's voice was full of amusement. Dipper rubbed his temple, knowing what would come next if he didn't stop it. 

"I have a crush on her," he corrected. "Being in love is entirely different."

"Sure, sure, lie to yourself, bro. But Mabel knows true love when she sees it! That's why we're going to talk to Wendy right now!" Mabel took hold of his wrist and pulled him toward the door. 

Dipper squirmed in her grip. "No! Not yet! I haven't figured out a plan!" 

"You don't need plans, Dipper. Just your heart. Trust me," Mabel said as she pulled open the door. Her grip was as strong as iron as she dragged him down the stairs. 

"Mabel, please, seriously, I can't do this," Dipper begged as Mabel took him to the gift shop. His sister ignored him. "Mabel." She opened the door and shoved him in. "MABEL!" She playfully winked and skipped off, leaving him alone in the gift shop. Dipper slapped his forehead in exasperation; he and Mabel were going to have a long talk about respect for other people's problems when she came back. 

The words dried on his tongue as the gift shop door opened again, Mabel leading Wendy inside. His cheeks flushed a deep red, and he lowered the rim of his cap to hide his face. 

"Here's Wendy!" Mabel shoved him playfully in the shoulder. "NOW TALK!" 

Dipper refused to look at Wendy as Mabel pushed him toward her. He was afraid he would die if he did so, his heart failing from sheer embarrassment. 

"So... about the dance thing," Wendy started. 

Dipper groaned and buried his face in his hands. "I had to do it." The lie his head created rolled off his tongue easily.

"We didn't tell the others. Me, Robbie, and Nate. We didn't tell them when they woke up," Wendy explained. There was a soft scratching noise as she rested her cup on the counter.

Dipper finally looked up from the ground. "You... didn't?" Hope filled his heart, causing it to beat faster in anticipation. 

"Nope." Wendy smiled. "Robbie really wanted to, though, but I saw you looked embarrassed and knew that if I had to dance in a lamb costume in front of my friends I'd be embarrassed, too." 

"T-thanks. F-for not telling anyone. I'm sorry I've been avoiding you. I just assumed you... would make fun of me." His voice dropped to a whisper as he finished speaking. His face was burning so much he was surprised it didn't set on fire. 

"Don't sweat it, man, we're friends." Wendy punched him in the arm, and they laughed together. Dipper smiled at the older girl, feeling for the first time that maybe, just maybe, things with Wendy could actually work the way his heart wanted. 

"Would you want to be more than friends, though?" Mabel suddenly interjected from where she sat on a globe. 

Dipper spun around to glare at her, horror and anger battling for dominance. "Mabel!" What was wrong with her? Couldn't she see now wasn't the time? 

"Go on, Dipper, tell her about your supermassive big crush on her!" Mabel urged very loudly. Without whispering. Talking normally. 

The world tilted as Dipper backed away from Wendy and Mabel. His knees became weak, and he thought he would pass out. Betrayal pierced him like the sharp stab of a knife in his back, and the glare he leveled at Mabel was full of hurt and anger. Mabel didn't notice it; she was too busy spinning merrily on the globe. Wendy was looking between the twins, confusion in her eyes. Tension crackled in the air until Dipper couldn't take it anymore. He fled from the room, mind racing to come up with locations where he would be safe and no one would find him. 

"Dipper, wait!" Mabel's voice called out behind him. He didn't look back, continuing forward like he hadn't heard her. "Where are you going?" He could hear her running after him. 

Furious at her blatant disregard for his feelings, Dipper halted and faced his sister. "What the heck is wrong with you?" he spat, hands tingling with the urge to strangle her upon seeing the innocent confusion in her eyes. "Why'd you tell Wendy about my feelings? I wasn't ready to tell her yet!" 

"But you weren't getting anywhere!" Mabel protested. "All you were talking about was silly stuff that didn't have anything to do with your crush!" 

Dipper's skin boiled with rage to hear her refer to the ghost incident as silly stuff . "Silly stuff? Silly stuff! " He stepped toward his sister and jabbed a finger at her. "Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was to do the Lamby Lamby Dance in front of Wendy? And it wasn't just her! I did that stupid dance in front of her friends, too!" He took another step forward, and Mabel flinched away, intimidated. "I thought Wendy hated me, Mabel! Thought she would see me as nothing more than some stupid little boy who isn't worth a second of her time. Why do you think I was avoiding her?" He inhaled deeply, his body shaking from anger. "You asked me if I meant it when I said you would mess things with Wendy up. Well, now I do. Go away, Mabel." Eyes watering, Dipper turned his back on his sister and rushed to the attic. He threw open the door and buried himself into his bed. His stomach churned nastily, and he wanted nothing more than to throw up. 

'That was intense,' Bill noted as he appeared beside Dipper. 'I didn't think Shooting Star was capable of that much cruelty.' 

"She didn't know what she was doing," Dipper muttered, but the words were hollow and empty of conviction. He didn't believe what he was saying. He covered his head with his blankets, hoping Mabel had gone back to the party. 

'Love doesn't get you anywhere, Pine Tree. All it does is hurt you and ruins your life.' 

"How can I make it stop?" Dipper asked, his heart hurting as he thought about how great and beautiful Wendy was. He had no chance with her now. Might as well get rid of those feelings. 

'You want to stop loving her?' Dark glee resonated in Bill's voice, but Dipper felt too wretched to care. 

"Yes." Little did he know the consequences that one, simple word would bring. 

'It's a deal, Pine Tree.'

___

Mabel sipped from her soda, relishing the cool liquid as it seeped through her body. Energy fizzed in her every muscle despite how much dancing she'd been doing in the past few minutes. She had to admit Pacifica was pretty good, but she was confident she could beat her. She had Candy and Grenda on her side, after all! 

A piece of paper hit her on the head, and Mabel looked up sharply, confused on why someone had thrown a piece of paper at her. She scanned the room for a couple of seconds for the culprit, and her eyes landed on Mabel 3 waving to her from the balcony. The clone was biting her lip in worry, and Mabel almost dropped her soda in her haste to get off the chair. She hurried to her clone, concern fueling her adrenaline from the dancing. Mabel 3 had been sent to help Dipper and Wendy. Had something bad happened? 

"I'm sorry," Mabel 3 began to say, but Mabel hushed her and led her away from the party room. 

Once they were a safe distance from the party, Mabel spouted questions like a broken water pump. "Did something happen? How's Dipper? Is he okay? What's wrong?" She shook Mabel 3 as her nervousness heightened. 

Mabel 3's eyes were full of guilt, and she wrung her hands nervously. "I... accidentally revealed to Wendy... that Dipper likes her..."

"So? How is that a bad thing?" Mabel was on tenterhooks, and she wanted to rip her hair out in frustration. 

Mabel 3 fidgeted, tears filling her eyes. "Dipper got mad at me, and I think he hates us- well, you- now!" 

Mabel's blood ran cold. "No..." Her voice shook. "Dipper wouldn't hate me. He must have been upset, sure, but what would give you the impression that he hates me?" 

"He said something about you asking him whether he meant something or not," Mabel 3 said. "He told me he did mean it now."

"I don't need Mabel. She'll just overreact and mess it up!" 

The words echoed in Mabel's head, and breathing became difficult. Dipper couldn't possibly hate her. They were twins, they loved each other more than anything! Mabel's hands clenched tightly at her sides. She was sick of all the miscommunication happening around her. It was time to end this fiasco. 

"Go get Dipper," she told Mabel 3. "I'm going to get backup." 

Mabel 3 saluted and marched in the direction of the attic. Mabel bid her luck on her quest as Dipper was the most stubborn individual she knew. Before she went back to the copier room, she checked in on the party to make sure she wasn't missing the next part of the competition. The break was still going, and Mabel breathed a sigh of relief. Then she gasped in alarm when she noticed Robbie, that weird emo teen, talking to Wendy. With her special Mabel-vision (literally just her regular vision), Mabel saw that Robbie was doing that weird eyebrow twitchy thing that people did when they flirted. Time was of the essence. 

Mabel quickly rushed to the copier room and copied herself again. The machine rattled and spluttered as the paper got jammed inside. Mabel groaned in annoyance and punched the machine in the side. The sheet slid out, and Mabel shrieked in horror as she realized the clone's body was half-crumpled at the top. Paper Jam Mabel babbled like a monkey as she flailed her arms, unaccustomed to her surroundings. 

"Oh, you poor thing," Mabel said, patting Paper Jam Mabel on the head sympathetically. "You just stay here and have some crackers." She handed a package of crackers she'd swiped from the party to the clone, and Paper Jam Mabel accepted it gratefully. 

The next time Mabel attempted to copy herself, the machine thankfully did not jam again. Mabel 4 printed out smoothly and successfully, and Mabel marked her bow with a 4. She informed Mabel 4 of her mission and sent her out to distract Robbie from Wendy. Mabel 5, after she was created, was sent to retrieve Wendy. Mabel herself would go back to the party for the competition. As she was talking to Mabel 4, Mabel 5, and Paper Jam Mabel, Mabels 2 and 3 slipped into the room. 

"While you all are doing that, I'm going to be winning that competition!" Mabel pumped her first in the air. 

Her clones were nowhere near as enthused as she was. In fact, they shared a grim look and glowered at her. 

"What? Did I say something wrong?" Mabel asked, puzzled by the look they were giving her. 

"Why are you the one who always gets to party?" Mabel 2 asked. She was the one different from all the rest as she was wearing the lightning bolt sweater Mabel had worn before the party. "You've done less work than all of us combined!" 

Mabel made a noise of indignation and crossed her arms. "I met Candy and Grenda! I've been making friends!" she retorted. 

Mabel 3 scoffed. "But we want to make friends, too. We want to party, just like you."

"Oh my gosh, that rhymed!" Mabel 5 squealed. 

"C'mon, girls. We're the same person. We're not going to turn on each other, right?" Mabel pleaded. She trusted herself, trusted her clones to know what they were doing. They all needed to play their part to fix their mistakes and have fun. They were all Mabel. And Mabel didn't turn on Mabel. 

But her clones did not feel the same way, except for maybe Paper Jam Mabel, who scurried out of the room eating crackers. The rest of the clones surrounded Mabel in a circle, matching scowls settled across their faces. Mabel froze, feeling legitimate fear. She hadn't known she could be so intimidating. 

"Mabel Clones, attack!" Mabel 2 commanded, and the clones descended on Mabel with a war cry. Mabel screamed and thrashed as her clones forced her out of the copy room and down the hall. 

"No! No! Let me go! LET ME GO!" Mabel struggled against the eight hands locking her in place. "DIPPER! DIPPER, HELP ME!" 

"He won't come," Mabel 3 said over her screams. "He hates you now, remember?" 

Mabel's breaths were coming in too fast, and her heart was racing so much she expected it to break like glass. She screamed louder, begging for anyone to hear, praying desperately for her brother to come, to prove Mabel 3 wrong. A hand, her hand, clamped over her mouth, muffling her screams. Mabel bit down on the hand, and the hand released her mouth. Her triumph quickly dissolved when she heard the creak of a door opening up behind her. Multiple hands shoved her into the dark, cramped space, and the last thing Mabel saw before the door slammed shut were eight pairs of her own eyes, watching her without a trace of pity. Darkness surrounded Mabel, and she shivered in the dusty closet. 

She was trapped. 

___

Stan was confident that the party was the best idea he'd had since the birth of the Mystery Shack. Kids had flocked in like sheep, dumping their pockets empty of money at the door and the exit. For Stan had put an exit fee of fifteen dollars in place. It was his most genius idea ever, and it was showing in his profits. This party was making him so much dough he could probably pay the twins for the rest of the summer if he wanted to. Which he didn't. He loved those suckers, but they weren't exactly worth paying. 

At the moment Stan was serving himself snacks, enjoying counting the party goers and calculating how much money they'd give him. He checked his watch, taking note of the time. The party wouldn't last for much longer. The competition Soos had started would be the end of the party, and Stan could spend an hour or two working on the portal. 

Stan was a man of mystery in more ways than just running the most mysterious tourist trap in Oregon. For one, everyone believed his name was Stanford, but it was actually Stanley. The real Stanford Pines was stuck in another dimension, and Stan was trying his hardest to fix up the portal and bring him back. 

He was interrupted in his money calculations when a clatter sounded on the table behind him. Someone was climbing on the tables. Stan was prepared to give the troublemaker a good scare and teach them not to ruin a good party, but he did a double take as he saw the culprit. 

"Hi, Grunkle Stan!" Mabel greeted him. She was kicking the plates on the table around, and food flew through the air and crashed to the ground from the force of her kick. Crumbs attached themselves to her gray sweater and stayed there, caught in the threads. "Fun party, isn't it? This beats sitting around selling tickets!"

"What? Why aren't you still out there? Surely the customers haven't left yet?" Stan tried to peer out the window, but night had completely fallen and blotched out anything he could have seen. 

"People stopped coming thirty minutes ago," Mabel said, mindlessly sending a tray of chips falling onto an unsuspecting five year old. The child cried as the salty snack broke all over his head. "But now I can party all night long!" She brought a hand over her eyes and searched the room. "Now where are Candy and Grenda- darn it! Number 4 got to them first!" She pouted. "Grunkle Stan! Tell Mabel 4 to share our friends!" 

"Mabel 4?" Stan immediately became annoyed and concerned. Was she messing with him again? "What the heck are you talking about, pumpkin?" 

Mabel rolled her eyes and directed Stan's head to look at two girls sitting across the room with... Mabel? Stan blinked and rubbed his eyes, convinced he was hallucinating. Two Mabels. It wasn't possible. But when he opened his eyes, the other Mabel was still there, talking animatedly with the other girls. She was wearing different clothing than the Mabel beside him; this Mabel wore a pink shirt and had a red bow in her hair. 

"Haha, very funny, kids," Stan said sarcastically. "But you can cut the joke." He lowered his voice and whispered to Mabel, "That's Dipper pretending to be you, right? You guys are fooling me?"

The Mabel next to him burst out laughing, slapping her knee like she had heard the funniest thing ever. She wiped her eyes and patted Stan's head reassuringly.

"Don't worry your old man brain, Grunkle Stan. We Mabel Clones have everything under control. MABELS!" she screamed, raising her arms in the air. 

The Mabel beside the girls leapt off her chair, giving the Mabel on the table a salute. To Stan's immeasurable horror, more Mabels popped up around the room; there were far too many for this to be a joke played by the twins. Stan dropped his food and prayed that this was a nightmare. The level of mischief multiple Mabels could pull off... Oh no. They would drive away his paying guests!

"IT'S PARTY TIME!" Table Mabel shrieked. All the Mabels in the room cheered, and Table Mabel grinned proudly. "HIT IT, MABEL 3!" A Mabel at the DJ stand nodded and started a... no...

"Agh!" Stan clutched his ears in terror as they were assaulted with peppy boy band music. "MAKE IT STOP! IT HURTS!" 

"Party! Party!" Table Mabel chanted, jumping off the table and racing onto the dance floor. 

The room descended into chaos. People screamed as another Mabel wearing a bow sprayed silly string onto everyone in her vicinity. The one DJing kept pressing random keys in various order during the song, creating a clash of horrible noise and awful music. One had even gotten out a glitter cannon and was covering the whole room in an explosion of glitter. 

A good, responsible uncle would try and get to the problem and keep his niece from causing any more trouble. 

So naturally Stan escaped from the room and opted to spend the rest of the night ignoring issues he had no idea how to handle. 

It was a great plan, especially when he heard a suspicious whirring noise that sounded too much like fireworks going off in the room behind him. 

"Soos and Wendy can handle it," he thought out loud to himself as he entered the gift shop. "And Dipper if he ever crawls out of wherever he's hiding." 

___

When Dipper awoke ten minutes later, the burden of the embarrassment he'd carried the last few days had dissipated. His mind was full of fog, and he struggled to remember why he was in the attic and not at the party. He'd been there, right? He and Soos had messed around with the DJ set. Then he and Mabel talked. He scratched his head, urging the memories to resurface. 

"Shooting Star revealed your crush on Ice to her face, and you came up here to sulk," Bill helpfully recounted. If you could say helpfully. There was no way Dipper missed the subtle jab in Bill's words. 

Memories flooded back at the reminder, but their resurface only caused Dipper more confusion. He should be upset by what Mabel had done. He should feel embarrassed, humiliated, yet he didn't. He felt as light as a feather, free from the chains shame had wrapped around him. He pictured Wendy in his mind and expected to feel the usual flutter in his stomach that came with thinking about her. But he felt no flutter in his stomach. No adoring thoughts, no daydreams. 

Dipper's eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement. "Why can't I..." His voice trailed off as he suddenly recalled the hazy moments before he'd lost consciousness. 

"Like my handiwork?" Bill sounded amused. "You better. You asked specifically for it, you know."

His voice was louder. Much louder. It sounded like Bill was standing right beside him, his voice filling the entire room. A shiver ran down Dipper's spine, and he gripped the side of his bed to steady himself. 

"You... altered my feelings," he said slowly, trying to understand what Bill may or may not have done to him. Now that Dipper had his head clear, he felt that Bill changing his emotions was very concerning and needed to be addressed immediately. 

"Sure did! Because you asked me to."

"I didn't ask you," Dipper corrected, replaying their last conversation in his mind. "I only said I wanted to stop the pain."

"Your thoughts tell a different story. They were practically begging for me to destroy your crush on Red."

Fear was starting to set in. "You... you didn't change anything else, right?" he asked warily. Bill seemed prone to twist words to fit whatever picture he wanted to make, and he might have omitted more details about what he changed in Dipper's mind than he thought. 

The yellow triangle flashed into view before him and scoffed. "Of course not. Do you really think I'm that stupid? Your family would notice if your feelings for them changed overnight with no incentive." He laughed as if it were the most funny idea in the world.

Dipper stood up and glared at the demon. "What do you possibly have to gain from messing with my feelings?" he demanded, angry at how casual Bill was acting about the issue. 

"Entertainment."

A loud crash echoed through the house. Dipper's attention darted away from Bill, and he left the attic, curious about what that sound was. Had it been from the party? Had someone thrown a chair or something? The crash must have been ten times as loud in the party room if it had echoed all the way up to the attic. Before he headed to the party, though, he shot one last glare at Bill. 

"We are not done talking about this," he promised. 

"Sure we will," Bill said then blinked. "This is me winking, by the way." 

Dipper massaged his forehead in annoyance as he walked down the hall toward the party room. He wished there were other ways to banish Bill from his mind, but none of the ones they knew about and tried worked. It was maddening. At this rate Dipper wouldn't have any hair by the time he turned thirteen with how much hair he'd been pulling out from stress. As he wandered past a closet on his way to the party, he swore he heard the soft sounds of crying and sniffling. He stopped, straining his ears to pick up the sound. His gaze drifted to a door to his left, the brown wood almost invisible next to the rest of the wall. The sounds were coming in the direction of that door. 

Dipper put his ear against the door, listening carefully for the sound of breathing to make sure someone was actually inside. The crying became louder, and he froze when he heard a familiar voice mutter under her breath. 

"Should have known this would happen. Maybe Dipper's right and plans are better. Agh, I'm such an idiot!" 

Mabel. Dipper pulled at the doorknob, and the door rattled and stayed firmly shut. It was locked. "Mabel?" he called through the wood. 

Through the wood he heard the scuffle of feet. "Dipper?" Hope and uncertainty fought in Mabel's voice, and footsteps approached the door. 

"Why are you in... wherever you are."

"A closet." 

"Why are you locked in a closet?" 

"Oh." Mabel laughed nervously. "Well... I really wanted to go to the party and make new friends, but you know Stan forced me to work the ticket stand."

"And you went anyway," Dipper said, already aware of her disobedience. They'd talked not long after the party had started after all. 

"Yeah, I know I did, but I also worked the ticket stand like Stan asked me to." Mabel fiddled with the knob as she spoke, and Dipper questioned if he had heard her correctly. 

"What? How?" he asked, baffled. Had she cloned herself? Wait...

"I copied myself with Stan's old copier!" Mabel explained. "Long story short I made several more, and now they're rebelling against me. They're the ones that locked me in here." 

Dipper thought back to when Mabel had forced him and Wendy to talk. Had that been a clone? Thank goodness. Dipper never liked being mad at his sister. Though would the clone still count as his sister? Did it have her exact personality and thought process? He should test his questions after the party-

"Woah, you're getting way too ahead of yourself, Pine Tree," Bill cautioned. 

"I've tried escaping, but there's nothing in here to break the lock," Mabel said, stressed. 

Dipper snapped his fingers as an idea struck him. "The amulet! Of course!" He reached into his pocket and grasped the smooth blue jewel, grateful for its existence. The magic object was being put to much greater purposes than it had under Gideon's control. The cold stone in the amulet warmed in Dipper's palm as he focused the magic on the door. Imagining all the mechanisms of the lock in his mind, the doorknob unlocked with a click after a few minutes. Dipper swung open the door and was met with a faked unimpressed eyebrow raise from Mabel. 

"It took you three minutes to unlock a doorknob?" she said judgmentally. 

"You try it and see how long it takes you," Dipper shot back. Mabel seemed unsure whether or not he was joking, so Dipper hugged her. "They didn't hurt you, right?" He let go quickly and scanned his sister. She was unharmed, though her hair was messed up and frizzy. Not surprising. The clone uprising would have been stressful for her. 

Mabel opened her mouth to say something, but another violent crash interrupted her, drawing the twins' attention to the party. 

"Guess we've got some clones to fight, eh?" Dipper quipped. He smiled as Mabel laughed and elbowed him. 

"This night really did dissolve into chaos," she replied. 

"Wait! Dissolve!" Dipper gasped. "Mabel, where are the water guns?"

"Guns? We're shooting people?" Bill appeared in front of Mabel, spinning in excitement. 

"With water," Dipper said, smirking as Bill visibly sunk in the air. The triangle turned away from him and grumbled something insulting under his breath. 

Once they were supplied with the necessary weaponry, Dipper and Mabel kicked open the door to the party room wearing sunglasses and with blue and pink, respectively, stripes painted on their cheeks.  Their jaws dropped open at the chaos before them, completely taken by surprise that the place wasn't burning to ashes. 

Popped balloons were scattered across the floor, accompanied by torn streamers and glitter. Chairs were flung about everywhere along with plates of food, and the twins could see the shattered remains of a few broken plastic chairs. Guests cowered behind tables and couches, hiding from the frenzied handful of Mabels running around the room. One Mabel was walking on the keyboard Soos had been DJing on, and the clash of noises emitting from it was enough to make Dipper and Mabel clutch their ears in pain. The cacophony bounced around the room so loudly it could make someone's ears bleed. Four of the Mabels were dressed exactly like her, and only one wore a gray sweater with a lightning bolt on it. Dipper also saw, with great horror and pity, a scrunched up Mabel who must have been a paper jam. That poor Mabel. 

"PAAAAARRRRTTYYY!" screamed a Mabel spinning on the hanging disco ball. 

"How'd she even get up there?" Dipper muttered in amazement. 

"I'm capable of many magical things, brother," Mabel said cheekily, flipping her hair. 

"I want to party," Bill said, standing on half of a chair. 

"No." Dipper wrapped the amulet around his neck (with great difficulty as he was currently one-handed) and gave Mabel a thumbs up. The battle was about to begin. 

"LISTEN UP, MABELS!" Mabel yelled, walking into the roving pink and purple spotlights. She held her head defiantly as she presented herself to her clones. 

A semi-hush fell over the room as the clones paused to look at her; it wasn't entirely quiet because the Mabel on the keyboard was standing still on a key that made a police siren. So that was awkward. Dipper coughed loudly into his fist, making sure the clones also knew he was here as well. 

"Classic Mabel? How'd you get out of the closet?" the Mabel with the sweater asked, scowling angrily. "You're supposed to stay in there and let us party!" 

"This isn't a party!" Mabel snapped. She gestured around the room at the frightened guests hiding from the clones. "Everyone should have fun at parties, and they don't look like they're having fun to me." She shot a glare at the Mabel standing on the keyboard. "And do you seriously think what you did to Dipper was nice?" 

"That doesn't have anything to do with the party," Keyboard Mabel said flatly. "I was following your orders."

"I didn't tell you to out his crush to Wendy!" Mabel pointed her water gun at the clone. 

Dipper felt his eye twitch. So all that awful stuff with Wendy was that clone's fault. Even though he no longer felt embarrassed about his crush, he had been extremely hurt by his "sister's" actions; the clone was going to pay for almost making him hate his own sister. Without any hesitation, he aimed his water gun at the clone and sprayed water onto her. The clone shrieked as her skin bubbled and popped. She melted to the floor like the Wicked Witch of the West, dissolving into nothingness before the twins' eyes. She reached out to Mabel, one last desperate plea for help, but Mabel only sprayed her with more water, devoid of pity. 

Silence covered the room as the other clones finally realized what the twins intended to do. Dipper and Mabel, in perfect unison, turned to face the angry and scared group of clones behind them. They adjusted their sunglasses and raised their water guns again. 

"This would be so much more fun with water balloons," Mabel sighed. "Why didn't we think of that?" 

"Balloons would have taken more time to fill, and by the time we finished the shack would be burning down," Dipper pointed out. "But yeah, water balloons would be cooler."

"Shooting them is more fun," Bill said despite the fact that no one asked him. "Stop being rude, Pine Tree." 

"Get them!" Lightning Bolt Mabel yelled, pointing at the twins. "Break their guns!" The Mabel clones nodded and prepared to fight. 

The hiding guests held their breath as the twins and the clones stood off against each other. The twins held their water guns steady, never looking away from the clones or taking their aim off them. The clones retrieved pieces of broken furniture from the floor, ready to defend themselves from the deadly spray of water. The room was quiet with the cacophonic music gone; soft breaths were the only sound that permeated the silence. Neither side moved an inch as they locked eyes, daring the other to move first. The air itself was still as a storm brewed between the twins and the clones. And then, like the strike of lightning and the boom of thunder, both sides charged at once, yelling war cries. 

Lightning Bolt Mabel immediately targeted Mabel, tossing the leg of a chair that snapped off after it landed against the ground at her stomach. Mabel easily dodged the projectile, a little bit shocked that the clones were legitimately trying to kill her and Dipper, and shot at Mabel 2. The clone squeaked in fear and ran backwards, avoiding the stream of water as best she could. Mabel chased after her, and the two ended up in a corner of the room. Mabel aimed her water gun, her finger about to press the trigger. Mabel 2 cowered against the wall, trembling as her existence was about to meet its end. 

A chair knocked Mabel aside, and she cried out in pain as she hit the floor. Her head throbbed, and she could make out Mabel 4 helping Mabel 2 up. The evens were helping the evens it seemed. Shaking her head to clear it, Mabel spotted Dipper running after Mabel 5 and Paper Jam Mabel. Grabbing her water gun, Mabel shakily stood up, swiveling her gun between Mabel 2 and 4. 

"You're outnumbered, Classic," Mabel 2 said, grinning triumphantly. "This party is ours."

"Oh yeah?" Mabel pointed the water gun at Mabel 4. She pressed the trigger, and the water hissed out, aiming at Mabel 4. But she still had her shield. Mabel gulped nervously as Mabel 4 blocked the water with her chair. Uh oh. This wasn't good. 

"Just let us party," Mabel 4 said, keeping her shield up in case Mabel tried to shoot her again. "That's all we want." 

"So you'll kill us to get it?" Mabel backed away as Mabel 2 picked up a sharp tack. Where had that come from? Sweat beaded on her brow as the clones took a step forward for each step she took back. "That's very un-Mabel-like of you."

"We're not going to kill you." Mabel 4 shook her head vigorously. "Only seriously maim you and lock you up to keep you from bothering us."

Mabel gaped, horrified and stupefied by the words coming out of her clone's mouth. How could she think of doing something so horrible, twisted, and evil? Wait... Mabel smirked as an idea came to mind. Mabel 2 and 4 advanced on her, and Mabel stopped, letting them come to her. She slid her finger onto the trigger; she had to be quick if she wanted this to work. 

"Didn't know you possessed one of my clones, Bill," she said directly to Mabel 4. "I thought you were stuck to Dipper?"

"What?" Mabel 4, baffled, looked around to confirm that Mabel was talking to her and lowering her chair in her confusion. "I'm not Bi-"

"Ha!" Mabel fired. Caught by surprise, Mabel 4 had no time to block the spray with her guard down, and soon enough she, like Mabel 3, had disintegrated into nothing.

Mabel 2 shrieked in rage and drew back the hand armed with a tack. "Cheater! That was unfair and uncalled for!" she seethed.

"Fair? I was defending myself, you sicko!" Mabel shot back. Mabel 2 growled like a furious cat and flung herself at Mabel. 

On the other side of the room, Dipper had taken out Mabel 5 with ease. The clone had been hesitant to hit him with the plate clutched in her hands, and that hesitation was all Dipper needed to take her out. It was very morbid, watching an exact copy of his sister melt in front of him, and Dipper was positive he was going to have particularly bad nightmares that night. He pushed the horrific sight out of his mind and turned his attention and his gun on Paper Jam Mabel. The clone whimpered in fear and drew back, mismatched eyes fixed on the water gun in Dipper's hand. Bill floated around her head, sick glee in his eye as he watched the clones melt. His emotions clashed harshly with Dipper's, and it was giving him a headache. 

Paper Jam Mabel sank to the floor, still whimpering. She was surrendering. Dipper lowered his gun slightly and felt a wave of sympathy for the clone. She was unlike all the others, messed up and broken. Would the other clones have treated her fairly if they'd won? Or would they have bossed her around, viewing her as lesser because she got jammed in the printer? The clone babbled something, and Dipper was tempted to leave her be and go help Mabel, who he saw out of the corner of his eye was having trouble. 

"Why are you hesitating?" Bill asked, still circling Paper Jam Mabel. "She's in a vulnerable position. Kill her now while she least expects it." His voice was full of sadistic pleasure at the idea. 

"No." Dipper shook his head. "Look at her. She doesn't deserve it." The clone was shaking against the floor, eyes locked on the water gun still. "She's so... helpless."

"Exactly. That's why you should kill her," Bill snapped, turning red with anger. He had stopped circling the clone and was glaring at Dipper instead. 

"Why are you being so cruel? She didn't do anything to you," Dipper said, glaring right back at him. 

Bill chuckled darkly, and the sound sent shivers down Dipper's spine. The hairs on his arm rose in fear, and Dipper had to fight to keep himself from shaking. Bill's laughter grew louder and stronger until it was all Dipper could hear, and he dropped the water gun to clamp his hands over his ears. But that would not quench the sound. The laughter was in his mind, after all, and he had no way of keeping it quiet. 

"You naïve child," Bill hissed, his voice at deafening volumes that made Dipper quiver. "Do you really think you can boss me around like you're better than me? Kill that pathetic waste of flesh or I'll do it myself."

Dipper knew he should not talk back, but he couldn't help but let the retort slip through his tense mouth. "You can't kill her, you're stuck in my mind."

And then his arm was lifting up, grabbing and pointing the water gun at Paper Jam Mabel. The clone squealed and scrambled away to escape, and Dipper's eyes widened in horror as his finger wrapped around the trigger. He wasn't doing that, he wasn't doing that ! His arm wasn't responding to him, why wasn't it moving? Paper Jam Mabel roared in terror as the water sprayed against her. Her fingers clawed at the ground as her body disintegrated. Her messed up face turned to look at Dipper, shock clear in her face. The sizzling sound of her melting was as loud as an explosion in Dipper's ears. 

The water gun fell to the floor with a loud clatter. Dipper stared at the spot where the last traces of water evaporated into the air. He looked at his hand and curled his fingers, which finally chose to obey him. Sharp breathing was coming from somewhere, and his ears were ringing. He stared and stared and stared at his arm, at his hand, at the floor where Paper Jam Mabel had been. He'd been about to let her go free, let her live. He hadn't lifted the water gun. He hadn't pressed the trigger. He knew that. So why...?

A laugh echoed in his head, bouncing off his skull and multiplying each time it shook his head. "I told you I'd do it myself," Bill whispered. "Next time don't be so dumb."

Dipper wanted to scream, to yell at the demon, to rip his own skin off, to tear apart his traitorous arm and Bill along with it. "You-" his voice choked. With what, he couldn't tell. Anger? Fear? The emotions coursing through him were too much to handle. He needed to escape, he needed to flee, he needed to get away from it all, he needed to-

"Forget?" Bill sounded like he would be smiling if he had a mouth. "Already on it, Pine Tree. There's no way I'm letting you tattle to your sister." 

"Dipper!" Mabel's voice was faint like she was on the other shore of an ocean. Her hands touched his shoulders, and he was vaguely aware of her shaking him. "Dipper! What happened?"

Bill , Dipper wanted to say. But his lips wouldn't move to form the words, and Mabel only got a strange muffled noise in response. He kept staring at his arm, scared that it would disobey him again and do... anything, really. Would it hurt Mabel? Would it turn on him? 

"Now you're being ridiculous. Just calm down." The figure of Bill over Mabel's head rolled his eye. 

"No, no, no!" Mabel's eyes watered or at least Dipper thought they did. "GRUNKLE STAN! HELP!" she screamed. "SOOS! WENDY! ANYONE!" She leaned over him, and he suddenly realized he could feel the cold wooden floor beneath his head. "GET ME A PHONE. NOW!" 

"A phone? Why?" Bill was confused. His image fluttered and flickered above Dipper's face. "Pine Tree. You need to calm down. You're panicking."

Was it him that was breathing so heavily? A palm wrapped around his own, and something wet fell onto his face. 

"You need to calm down so I- we- can feel what's wrong," Bill said. All his amusement had disappeared to be replaced with bewilderment. 

"Stan!" Mabel's head turned to look at a blurry figure joining them. Dipper squinted or at least he thought he did. His body felt numb, unresponsive. 

"Holy sh- belgian waffles." Stan crouched down next to Dipper. "Soos! Help me carry Dipper. We need to get him into my car."

"On it, Mr. Pines- oh no." Soos gasped. 

"I know. Now hurry up! Mabel, sweetie, get me a cloth. We need to staunch the bleeding."

"Bleeding?" Bill was getting angry. He didn't like being confused. 

"YOU!" Mabel yelled at someone. She disappeared from his view. Dipper heard the hiss of water spraying from a water gun. 

"Uh, Mabel, why were there two of you?" Stan asked. "Wait, I shouldn't be asking that. Not now." Arms slid under Dipper's body. "You're going to be alright, kid. I know for a fact that that's not where all the vital organs are." 

"What does he mean by that?" Bill was scared. 

The cold pressing into his back faded as he felt air replace it. Dipper tried to lift his head to look around, but he couldn't move. He couldn't move or feel anything except the rapid rise and fall of his chest. A hand lay against his ribs, and he heard Stan muttering something. 

Through the cloud infesting his mind, Dipper faintly realized that this was the second time this summer he collapsed and fell unconscious. 

Naturally, that was his last thought before he fell unconscious.

Chapter Text

The first thing Dipper noticed when he regained consciousness was the strong odor of bleach and sterilizing products. The second thing that caught his attention was the chill permeating his bones and making him shiver. The third and most important thing he noticed was that his side ached. Cracking his eyes open a tad bit, his vision was assaulted with bright lights and a vibrant white that only existed in one place. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but the words would not come or form. He squinted against the blinding lights, trying his hardest to understand where he was and why he was there. 

A door opposite of him opened, and a woman wearing blue scrubs walked in. Dipper closed his eyes, hating the lights that burned them. Spots danced across his vision, and he felt so groggy that he barely felt the surface below him move. He leaned deeper into a pillow behind him, taking comfort in a familiar sensation. He wanted to dive back into the dark void of sleep and lose himself to reality. It would certainly help dull the ache throbbing in his side. He pulled his arm up to his stomach to get into a more comfortable position and dimly noted the feel of an object pressed into his arm. Whatever he was lying on came to a smooth halt, and Dipper carefully opened one eye, hoping the lights wouldn't blind him again. He was grateful to find that he was in a new room, one with dimmer lights and walls painted a cool, soothing blue. The woman hadn't left yet, and more people joined her as Dipper felt himself drifting off again. He welcomed the peaceful and dreamless sleep, where he was unbothered by the horrific events from the party. 

When he opened his eyes again, he was more aware of his surroundings, and his brain wasn't filled to the brim with stuffing. He shifted, and pale white blankets crinkled as he moved. He looked down at himself and finally understood where he was. The light blue hospital gown was a dead giveaway. An IV was attached to his arm, pumping medicine into him, and he thought he could feel bandages plastered on his side. As his eyes scanned the room, Bill appeared to settle on the edge of the bed, his eye narrowed in an emotion Dipper couldn't read. 

"What happened?" Dipper whispered. His voice was hoarse and shaky, probably due to whatever had injured him. 

"I wish I knew," Bill said sourly, unused to not knowing everything. "You were panicking too much for you to feel any pain."

Dipper cautiously pulled up his shirt to see exactly what was wrong with his side; every movement of his abdomen jostled the possible wound, making Dipper grit his teeth to block out the pain. His stomach flipped when he saw the bloody bandages wrapped around his stomach. He glanced at a board across his bed and hoped the nurses would change the bandage soon. The sight of his own blood was sickening, and he wondered how big the wound was. 

"Nothing severe," Bill said. "Only the outer layer of flesh was torn. Whatever did this cut quite a few blood vessels, though."

Dipper released the hem of his shirt, watching the blue fabric fall back into place solemnly. "Mabel... I need to know if she's alright." 

Bill's eye closed, and he massaged it in exasperation. "You're in a hospital, and all you can think about is your sister?" It was obvious he was perplexed by Dipper's concern for his twin. 

"I remember seeing her get cornered by one of the clones," Dipper recalled. The blood drained from his face as a dreadful thought struck him. "Oh, no! What if that clone injured her? What if she's here, too? We have to find her!" 

"Yeah, sure. Go ahead. Reopen that wound of yours. Bleed out and die. Fine by me." Bill picked at a nonexistent nail. "It's not like I'll die with you or anything." 

"I was planning on asking a nurse about it," Dipper said, unamused by Bill's sarcasm. "I'm not an idiot." 

"You sure act like one."

Dipper bit back an angry retort. Arguing would ruin his rest, and rest was what he needed most now. He'd already wasted one week of summer being sick, and he would rather not waste another. He rested his head against his pillows and watched the trees sway in the wind outside his window. The hospital in Gravity Falls was tiny compared to the hospitals in the big city. Dipper was on the ground floor, and his window showed him a large view of the forest and a small bit of the town. It was a relaxing view, and Dipper concentrated on watching the leaves as they slowly waved to him through the glass. The light caught in them, causing the plant's veins to glow and revealing the chlorophyll spreading through the plant. Bill had disappeared, seemingly in agreement that Dipper needed to rest. Despite Bill's annoying and insulting remarks, the silence was deafening, and Dipper couldn't help but feel lonely. A consequence of being a twin, he suspected. He and Mabel were always together, and after sharing a room with her the past few weeks, sleeping alone was a monumental task as hard as running a marathon. Silence had become an unknown entity, a creature Dipper had forgotten about as he became used to constantly being around others. 

Fortunately, the silence only lasted for ten minutes before the door was practically kicked down by Mabel and Stan. Dipper jumped at the loud slam and immediately let out a hiss of pain through his teeth. Sudden movements increased the throbbing in his side, so he stayed as still as possible as Mabel rushed over to them. Her face was covered in dry tear tracks, but Dipper was too relieved to see that she was okay to notice them. 

"Thank goodness you're okay, kid," Stan said, ruffling Dipper's already messed up hair. "You almost gave me a heart attack, bleeding all over the place. But I knew you weren't in any danger of dying." From the huge relief in his eyes, Dipper could tell he was lying. 

"What happened?" Dipper asked, hoping they knew the answer to the question plaguing him most. Unlike Bill, they had a full view of events and saw exactly what had hurt him. 

"Mabel 2- you know, the clone I was fighting- threw a sharp metal rod at me," Mabel explained. "I avoided it, but... But we were close enough that it... it..." Her voice shook at the memory, her eyes clouding with fear and pain. 

"It hit you," Stan finished for her. Unlike Mabel, he had a firm grip on his emotions and kept them hidden under a calm mask. Freaking out would only worsen the kids' moods, and they needed to relax and recover from the horrific experience they'd endured. 

Mabel burst into tears. "I'm sorry, Dipper! I shouldn't have made all those clones!" 

"You don't need to apologize. You're not the one who hurt me," Dipper said. 

"You wouldn't have been hurt if I hadn't cloned myself!" Mabel snapped. "You could have died! And it would have been my fault!" 

"I brought you candy, Dipper," Stan interrupted. He, like Dipper, hated seeing Mabel in distress and was eager to provide a distraction. He dropped a handful of candy onto Dipper's lap, and Dipper stared at the colorful wrappers in silence. 

"I don't think I'm allowed to have candy," he said, picking up a piece of candy and reading the label on the back. Yikes, it had a lot of sugar. 

"Exactly. Hospital food is boring and disgusting, so I thought I'd bring you exciting food." Stan glanced around the room, disgusted by how plain and monotone it was. 

Dipper handed the candy to Mabel, who pushed it right back to him. He shook his head in protest and shoved it back at his sister. Mabel glared at him and pushed it back. Their silent war continued on for some time while Stan sat down on a chair and watched without intervening. Mabel ended up winning the fight when she gathered up the candy and dumped it into a drawer at Dipper's side. Being unable to move without hurting himself, Dipper was forced to let the candy stay there. Rolling his eyes at Mabel's triumphant grin, he stopped trying to lean toward the drawer and adjusted the pillows behind him; they had been dislodged from his movement. 

"How long am I supposed to stay here?" he asked Stan when he finished. He was already sick of the place and wanted to be back in the creaky old Mystery Shack with his journal. 

Stan sipped a cup of coffee Dipper hadn't noticed in his hand. "A day or two," he said. "The doctors said the wound is pretty shallow. Honestly kind of surprised you weren't hurt worse. You bled quite a bit, kid."

"He's exaggerating," Mabel said, sitting on the end of the bed. "But your shirt is ruined now." 

"Eh. I have more." Dipper had an obscene amount of maroon shirts. He had to in order to wear the exact same thing everyday. 

Mabel's eyes lit up with an idea. "Oh! I'll make you an apology sweater!" She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "But what to put on it..."

Dipper sighed and shook his head. She wasn't going to let up on the "it's my fault" thing, huh? He tuned her out as she rambled on about possible sweater graphics and attempted to remember what had gone on at the party last night. He and Mabel had fought the clones, but he couldn't understand why he hadn't felt metal pierce him in the side. He should have been in extreme pain, yet he hadn't felt a thing. Why? 

"The past is the past, Pine Tree. Let it go," Bill said. 

Dipper looked out the window again. The bright sunlight seemed to be taunting him, mocking him for being trapped in the hospital without a clue as to why he couldn't remember what had happened. His last memory before collapsing had been of him choosing not to kill Paper Jam Mabel. And that was it. He couldn't remember anything after that. But Bill was right. He shouldn't question it . 

Right now he just needed to rest. There were more pressing matters to think about than the party. 

___

Stan was correct in saying that Dipper would be released in a day or two. Two days after the party, Dipper was escorted out of the hospital by not just Stan and Mabel but Soos and Wendy as well. Dipper was pleased to find that he could look Wendy in the eye and not blush profusely, though he was confused as to why he felt no attraction to her anymore. He was distracted from that issue the second he got in the car as Mabel chatted his ears off about how she tidied up the attic for his return. Dipper was grateful that she took the time to dust everything (who knows how much dust clogged his lungs from being in that attic for a while), but he was displeased by her criticism of his laundry habits. 

"I don't have time to wash my laundry, Mabel. I'm a busy guy!" Dipper defended himself passionately while keeping as still as possible. He didn't want to go back to the hospital, sitting around watching TV all day. Okay, it hadn't been terrible, but his body longed to be exploring the town with Mabel. They'd barely scratched the surface of the mysteries in the town, and summer wouldn't last forever!

Mabel scoffed in disbelief. "You've had plenty of time to clean your clothes. Just admit it: you're lazy."

"So you'd rather I spend all my time washing dirty clothes instead of hunting ghosts and solving mysteries?" Dipper feigned a hurt expression, pretending to be gravely wounded by Mabel's words. 

"Hygiene is important," Mabel said sternly. "Why don't boys ever understand that?" 

Dipper placed a hand over his heart. "Agh! Mabel! You're killing me!" 

"Get over it," Mabel snorted, bumping him in the shoulder. Dipper upped his game by pretending to choke, grasping his neck as he loudly wheezed. On Mabel's other side, Wendy bit her hand to keep her laugh from bursting out. Even Stan looked amused, chuckling at the twins' antics. 

When they returned to the Shack, Mabel blindfolded Dipper and led him up to the attic. Dipper questioned the necessity of the blindfold and was told that it was needed for maximum shock value. He doubted it would affect how surprised he would be but let Mabel put the blindfold around his head anyway. 

"Ta-da!" Mabel sang, yanking off the blindfold. 

Dipper's jaw dropped open. The usual mess that invaded both sides of the attic was gone, replaced by a neatness Dipper hadn't known Mabel possessed. Her stuffed animals were carefully lined up against the wall, and her posters were straightened out in a way that made it look extremely satisfying to the human eye. Dipper's side of the room was cleared of all dirty laundry, and she'd stacked his books in a tall tower at the foot of his bed. Propped against his pillow, the gold hand glowing in the afternoon sunlight, was Journal 3; the amulet rested below it, the ribbons attached to it neatly tucked under the jewel. 

"I... how long did it take to do this?" Dipper wondered if he was actually in the Shack. The room was too tidy to be his and Mabel's, yet the neatness was relaxing and pleasant to look at. He couldn't hate it. Not when Mabel had put so much time and effort into cleaning it up for him. "This is amazing, Mabel. I love it." He hugged her tightly. He gasped in pain as she crushed him in her grip. "Mabel, be careful. I don't want to go back to the hospital!" 

Mabel dropped him and laughed sheepishly. "Sorry, bro. Got too excited." She glanced at the journal, silently communicating a question she had before she spoke it. "Have any ideas for mysteries we can solve?" She wiggled her fingers as she spoke, indicating that she was thinking of ghosts or spiders or zombies or whatever. 

"I think I'll wait until my side stops hurting," Dipper said despite thinking about the many options they could pursue. "By the way, how's that apology sweater going? You know, the one you don't need to make because there's nothing for you to apologize for?"

Mabel's smile fell. "Oh, that," she sighed, kicking the floorboards with her shoe. "I can't come up with anything! Every time I try, I end up backing out before I can begin, and I don't know why!" She groaned in frustration, pulling at her hair. "Help me, Dipper!" 

Dipper lowered himself onto his bed and opened the journal. "You could put one of the creatures in here on it," he said, flipping through the pages loudly. The designs in the journal were intricate, delicately made, and he was sure one of them would make a great design for a sweater. 

But Mabel pursed her lips and shook her head. "Those are too detailed and would take forever to knit. I need something simple."

"Aw, is Shooting Star having a rough time?" Bill mocked. "Maybe if you smacked her in the head her senses would come back to her. If they were even there to begin with."

Dipper waved a hand through Bill's body, wishing the demon was physically there so he could slap him. "Quiet, Bill." He was prepared to ignore him and convince Mabel that he didn't need a sweater when he noticed that Mabel was wearing her pink sweater with a shooting star on it. "Hey, why do you call Mabel 'Shooting Star'? And me 'Pine Tree'?" 

Mabel froze in place; when had she started pacing? "Bill calls me Shooting Star? Why?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Then a cheeky grin spread across her face. "It's because I'm as bright and pretty as one, right?"

"Absolutely not." Bill scoffed. 

"No, it's not," Dipper repeated in a nicer way. "So what's the real reason?" he asked again. "And don't dodge the question because Mabel will pester you until she finds out."

"He's telling the truth," Mabel confirmed. 

Bill rolled his eye but relented. "Fine. It won't hurt to have you know, I guess."

Dipper scooted along his bed to make room for Mabel. She flopped onto her stomach and kicked her legs in excitement, and Dipper suddenly remembered that only he could see Bill. Reprimanding himself, he nudged Mabel and pointed at the window, where Bill was floating. Mabel squinted at the window and pretended like she could see the triangle except she was staring at the air a few inches below where he really was. Dipper didn't bother correcting her. 

"Long ago, ages before you two were even born, a prophecy was made concerning me and my defeat." Bill laughed at the idea that he, of all things, could be defeated. "It involved a wheel the ancients liked to call the Zodiac, though it's different from that Chinese one." An image appeared beside him, and Dipper subconsciously leaned over to look closer and examine it. It was a circle marked with a variety of symbols, and in the middle was Bill, his unmoving eye locked on Dipper in an unnerving way. One of the symbols looked exactly like the print on Mabel's sweater, and he rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was seeing things. Technically the image was a hallucination, so... 

"What's he saying?" Mabel whispered loudly, squinting hard at the air where Bill was not floating. 

"A prophecy was made in ancient times about him, and there's this wheel called the Zodiac that has a bunch of symbols on it," Dipper summarized. "He hasn't finished yet," he added as Mabel sat up to speak. She slumped back against the mattress, pouting. "Go on, Bill."

"As I was saying... The symbols on the Zodiac are representations of humans who are destined to join together and kill me." Bill's eye shifted to glance between Dipper and Mabel. "You're the pine tree, and she's the shooting star. There. Now you know." 

Dipper stared at him, numb with shock. So... he was part of a prophecy to kill a demon? The one stuck in his own mind? What? WHAT? 

"What'd he saaaay, Dipper?" Mabel whined, tugging on his shirt in agitation. Dipper shook himself out of his surprise; he would think more about the new information later. 

"We're part of the Zodiac. Our symbols are a shooting star-" he pointed at the star on Mabel's sweater, which she glanced at with wide eyes- "and a pine tree. " He pointed at himself. "Basically he calls us by our symbols." 

Mabel traced the shooting star on her sweater, chewing on the information. With a gasp she jumped up onto her feet, causing the bed to creak in protest and Dipper to almost fall off by the sudden lack of mattress beneath him. 

"That's it! Dipper, I've got an idea for your apology sweater!" She jumped up and down in excitement, and Dipper hastily abandoned the bed before he was thrown off by a bouncing mattress. He pocketed the amulet and the journal in case they were flung off, too. Mabel tugged at the shooting star, explaining her idea rapidly with many hand gestures. "Okay, I don't really get the whole prophecy and symbol thing, but I totally got how my symbol is on my sweater. So, like, what if we matched? I have a shooting star sweater, and you have a pine tree sweater! I know your hat has a pine tree on it, but it would be so cool if we had matching sweaters! And I can make a sweater for Bill, too, so he doesn't feel left out."

Dipper raised an eyebrow. "Bill can't wear sweaters," he pointed out. 

"But you can!" Mabel smirked. "You can wear it for him!" 

"Absolutely not," Dipper refused. 

"Oh, Dipper, you silly goose." Mabel shook her head with a sigh. "I'm still making one for him. I can't leave him out if I'm making sweaters based on his prophecy!" 

"Why am I stuck with the two most ridiculous people in this dimension?" Bill muttered, appalled by what cruel tricks fate was throwing his way. 

"Bill thinks we're the most ridiculous people on the planet," Dipper whispered to Mabel, stifling a laugh. 

Mabel was not so kind. A laugh burst out of her like it had been waiting there, and she laughed so hard her eyes filled with tears. "Us? The most ridiculous people? Puh-lease! You need to get out more, Bill."

"Yeah, look in a mirror, Bill," Dipper laughed, shooting the incensed triangle a mocking glare. "You're nowhere near normal."

"I will make you skin your sister alive for that," Bill growled. 

Dipper waved off the threat like it was an annoying fly; irritating but not important. Mabel set to work on creating the sweaters, and Dipper helped by experimenting with the amulet. He was fascinated by how even with magic he still sucked at knitting. The threads were sloppy and loose compared to Mabel's tightly wound and carefully threaded creations. He stopped trying after three minutes and gave the amulet to Mabel so she could work faster. They had a fun dinner with Stan and watched TV with him for a bit before they prepared for bed. All in all it was a nice first day back from the hospital. The wound healed perfectly, and Dipper looked forward to when he would be allowed to run around and do whatever he pleased. He needed a good mystery to keep his mind off of how much of the summer he'd spent sick. 

___

With the amulet's help, Mabel was able to finish the sweaters in less than two days. The twins were hanging out in the attic as usual when Mabel completed her little project; Dipper was startled out of reading the journal by light blue yarn covering his face. He pulled the sweater off his face, spitting out stray strands that clung to his skin like glue. 

"That's yours," Mabel said, dancing over to him. She held up another sweater, but that one was yellow and covered in golden triangles and had a little bowtie knitted at the top. "Do you like this, Bill?" 

"Oh my gosh." Bill, for once, sounded genuinely impressed. "It's perfect. Can she make one that fits triangles?" 

"He likes it," Dipper reported. 

Mabel beamed, pleased that she managed to convince the demon to actually like something. He was a bit of a sour apple. "Great! I wasn't sure if he has a bowtie- does he?" Dipper nodded. "Okay, good. Glad he likes it! And what do you think about yours, Dipper?" 

Dipper unfolded the sweater in his lap and examined it. Most of the sweater was the same shade of blue as his hat, and Mabel had stitched in a dark blue pine tree in the middle in imitation of her shooting star sweater. The sweater was less thick than most of Mabel's sweaters, probably because Dipper was more sensitive to temperature than her. Dipper traced the pine tree in the middle, a smile growing on his face. He slid off his vest and hat and pulled the sweater over his head, surprised by the softness of the yarn. It didn't scratch or itch, and it was lighter than it seemed. 

"This is amazing, Mabel," he said, adjusting the sleeves so his hands poked through the cuffs. "Thank you. But I'm not accepting this as an apology sweater." 

Mabel's face fell, and she shrunk into herself. "W-what? Why?"

"Because there's nothing for you to apologize for." Dipper put his hat back on and looked Mabel dead in the eyes. Judging by the way her face scrunched into a guilty look that had become way too common, he added, "I'm serious. I don't blame you for what happened at the party. Heck, I'd probably have cloned myself, too, if I'd had a reason. Guess that's just how we are."

Mabel giggled, the cloud of sadness passing by and revealing her usual amount of sunshine. "You'd probably name one- what was that name you said you always wanted to call yourself?"

"Tyrone."

"Yeah, that. You would have better control over your clones, though... what with all your planning and stuff." And the cloud was back, a dark stormy gray cloud that Dipper wished to banish forever. 

"Oh, no, they definitely would have rebelled against me," Dipper denied. "They'd overthink just as much as me, and they'd throw me in a closet like yours did to you." When the cloud had yet to pass, he crouched down next to Mabel and poked her in the stomach, right where the shooting star was on her sweater. The action caused Mabel to look up, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. Dipper placed a hand over the pine tree on his sweater. "I don't blame you, Mabel. We're the Mystery Twins. Nothing is ever going to split us apart, especially not a silly mistake."

"We could have died." Mabel's voice wobbled as a tear slid down her cheek. "They were trying to kill us, Dipper."

"And we're still here. Alive. Sure, I got stabbed in the side, but it wasn't a major wound." Dipper gently pushed his discarded vest into Mabel's hands, urging her to wipe her tears. "We won that battle, and we'll continue to win and defy anything we face."

Mabel let out a sob and squeezed Dipper into a hug so tight his ribs creaked from strain. But he didn't protest. She needed a shoulder to cry on, needed someone to comfort her. She needed to relieve herself of her guilt and let the storm pass. As for Dipper, well, he knew his own guilt was stupid and illogical. He knew it wasn't his fault he got stabbed. He knew it wasn't his fault he got sick at the beginning of the summer. Illness was not a factor any human could control. Yet he still felt guilt gnawing his heart for wasting Mabel and Stan's time caring for him when they could have been enjoying themselves. He pushed the beast that was guilt aside for now and focused on helping his sister. She helped him when he was sick, and so he would help her when she was down. It was their duties as twins to care for each other, and Dipper knew they would stand firm against the blasting rain and drudgery of the storms in their hearts. 

"Weren't you supposed to go do something with Fez?" Bill oh-so-kindly interrupted the heartfelt moment with his scornful voice. 

"You good?" Dipper asked quietly as Mabel finally released him from her death grip. She sniffed and rubbed her bloodshot eyes; she didn't look good, but looks could be deceiving. The twins stood up from the floor, and they simultaneously winced at the ache in their knees. "Remind me to never chat on hardwood floors again," Dipper gritted out. 

"Come on, knees! We're 12! We shouldn't be having knee pain!" Mabel whined, clutching her sore knees. 

"Ha! Suffer!" Bill rubbed his hands gleefully. 

Five minutes later, the twins and Stan piled into the car and drove their way through town to do an unspecified activity that was not really elaborated on. Mabel brought along a bag of nacho chips as comfort food, and eating triangle shaped foods turned out to be the worst insult they could have possibly given Bill. He raged about the disgrace and humiliation he was put through by the human race as Mabel gave herself chip earrings. Dipper desperately desired to share Bill's misfortune with Mabel, but Stan was a foot away from them. Thus, he was forced to revel in Bill's suffering in solitude. He zoned out to argue with Bill and was clueless as to the happenings going on outside the car. 

Zoning out ended up being a bad decision on his part when he was finally brought back down to Earth by Stan screaming in terror. Dipper shot a questioning look at Mabel, and she gestured to the window while covering her mouth to soften a laugh. Dipper peeked out of the window and briefly wondered if Stan's car was secretly the one from Back to the Future . Wagons surrounded the car in a way that was too organized to be anything but intentional, and the townsfolk were dressed exactly like people from the 1800s. Stan was freaking out at the wheel, complaining about something called Pioneer Day. 

Do you have any clue what Pioneer Day is ? Dipper questioned Bill. 

"It's just some celebration of the day Gravity Falls was founded," Bill said dismissively. "I wouldn't bother with it. Crazy people dressing up like fools is a waste of my- our- time."

Looks exciting , Dipper thought. He followed Mabel out of the car and watched the horses trot by with interest. Stan scowled at the sight of the old timey get up, clearly hating Pioneer Day and wishing he had never set foot out of his house. The twins left Stan to kill over his car problems after he declared that they would be dead to him if they came back talking like they lived in the 1800s. A large crowd was gathered around a wooden platform set up next to a giant statue of the town founder, Nathaniel Northwest. The twins joined the crowd, and Dipper shaded his eyes from the blinding summer sun, squinting up at the stage. A blonde girl approached a microphone set up at the front of the stage and tapped it several times to catch the crowd's attention. 

Dipper remembered Mabel telling him about a rich blonde girl who had an ego the size of a blue whale. "Isn't that Pacifica Northwest?" he asked Mabel quietly. His sister nodded in confirmation, and Dipper glared at the rich girl. Anyone who made fun of Mabel instantly achieved a spot on his hate list. 

Pacifica rattled on about how she was descended from the town founder and requested for someone in the crowd to come up to the stage. Mabel eagerly bounced up to the stage despite Dipper's protests. Dipper bit his lip nervously, feeling like something would go wrong. Mabel may have gotten over the dance battle, but Pacifica clearly hadn't as she was glaring at Mabel like she had done her a great personal offence. On the other hand, the crowd loved Mabel and enthusiastically joined her chanting, "U.S.A!" Dipper made sure to yell louder than the rest. Pacifica scowled at the sight of the crowd loving Mabel and, as Dipper predicted, decided to mock Mabel in front of the entire crowd.

"I'm sorry to break it to you, but Pioneer Day is for serious people, and you look and act ridiculous," Pacifica drawled, eyeing Mabel's sweater in distaste. "I mean, a shooting star?" She glared at the star on Mabel's sweater like its existence was a crime. "Are you always this childish?" 

Mabel blushed and covered the print on her sweater; Dipper frowned as the storm clouds formed again and dampened Mabel's mood with torrential rain. "Hey! I can be serious!" Mabel scrunched up her face and grunted from the strain of keeping it bunched up. 

"You do have nachos hanging from your ears, hon," Pacifica said, smirking in amusement at Mabel's shame. "Wow. I'm embarrassed for you. Give her a hand, everybody!" 

"Aw, look at Shooting Star! She's so embarrassed. You should sit here and let Llama do her thing."

Bill's nonchalance about Mabel's humiliation infuriated Dipper. Dipper's eyes narrowed to tiny slits as the crowd around him applauded loudly. Mabel gazed down at her shoes in shame, Pacifica's mockery ringing in her ears. Dipper's hands balled into fists, and he marched up to the platform before he could stop himself. 

"So what if my sister has nachos for earrings?" Dipper snapped, putting a hand on Mabel's shoulder. Pacifica's eyes widened in surprise at his sudden appearance before they scrutinized him for flaws to target. "I mean, I can't even tell what those things hanging from your ears are. At least my sister actually has some semblance of taste." 

"And who are you supposed to be?" Pacifica asked, sounding bored like she didn't care who he was. Her sharp glare, full of disgust and dislike, said otherwise. 

"None of your business, snob," Dipper said aggressively. He took a step closer to Pacifica. "Apologize to Mabel. Now." 

"Dipper, don't. I'm fi-" Mabel tried to calm him down, but Dipper was beyond the realm of reason. He shushed her and took another step toward Pacifica. The brat's mouth had dropped open in shock at his daring to talk back to her, and she, for the first time in her life, was at a loss for words. 

"Well?" Dipper practically growled, taking another step forward. He was almost nose-to-nose with Pacifica, and she backed away to avoid him. Her fancy shoes brushed the edge of the stage, and she froze; another step back would send her falling over the edge. 

"Oh, yes, kill her! Rip her eyes out!" Bill cheered, pumping his fists like an excited child watching an action film. 

Pacifica remained calm and flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder. "Like I'd apologize to peasants like you." She shoved Dipper away from her and dusted off her clothes. "You're almost as silly as she is," she said, nodding to Mabel. "And dumber. Need I remind you that you're talking to a Northwe- agh!" Pacifica cried out in fear as a blue glow surrounded her and floated her into the air. She flailed her limbs, screaming as she was lifted higher and higher into the air. The crowd gasped and whispered amongst themselves, questioning whether the magic was supposed to happen or not. On the stage, gripping the amulet so tightly the jewel creaked from pressure, Dipper stared up at Pacifica, his brown eyes as cold as ice. 

"Yes! Yes! Murder the rich girl!" Bill said gleefully. 

"Dipper! What are you doing?" Mabel cried in horror, unable to believe what she was seeing. He wouldn't drop her... would he? 

"Let me down!" Pacifica squeaked. From the ground, her voice was as quiet as a mouse squeak. But her plea was clear. Dipper held her in the air, torn between wanting to safely lower her to the ground or drop her and hear her little neck snap. 

"If you killed her, she wouldn't bother Shooting Star ever again," Bill reasoned, his voice consuming all of Dipper's thoughts. 

Dipper's hand holding the amulet twitched. He knew he shouldn't kill Pacifica. Murder was wrong, and he'd be put in jail. As much as he hated her, he wouldn't stand for her death. But...

Killing her sounded like so much fun . 

"DIPPER PINES! PUT HER DOWN!" Mabel yelled, shoving his shoulder roughly. 

The shove broke Dipper out of Bill's clutches. The amulet dropped out of his hand, and Pacifica shrieked like a banshee as she plummeted toward the stage. The crowd screamed in horror and terror, and people rushed to climb the stage and catch her. Mabel scooped up the amulet and activated its magic just in time. Pacifica hovered a few inches above the wood stage, seconds from landing and snapping her neck. Mabel released her hold on Pacifica, and she landed hard on the stage; Mabel wanted just a little bit of revenge. 

Dipper, panicking, backed away from his sister, gasping for air like he'd run a marathon. He was appalled by the thoughts he'd had when lifting Pacifica off the ground. The idea of killing anyone made his skin crawl and his blood freeze to ice, and he tried to understand what had made him genuinely consider it. He'd come so close to dropping her... He shuddered, feeling uncomfortable in his own skin. 

"Ugh! I was so close!" Bill groaned, voice full of fury. Dipper flinched at his yell, the sound of it rattling his skull. "Curse Shooting Star!" 

Bill's anger was as sharp as a knife, and Dipper curled in on himself as he was assaulted with Bill's emotions. "Why..." Dipper muttered, eyes watering as the reason why Bill was mad revealed itself in his mind. "What do you want from me?" 

"I already told you, I'm bored and I like messing with you," Bill growled, and Dipper couldn't tell if he was lying. "Will you quit moping every time I do something terrible?" 

Dipper rubbed his eyes with the light blue sleeve of his sweater and scurried off the stage as fast as he could. Mabel didn't come after him. Mabel didn't follow. Why would she? He almost murdered someone; she should stay as far away from him as possible. 

"Talk about over dramatic," Bill huffed. "You're worse than Sixer." 

Dipper didn't bother asking who Sixer was. He didn't want to talk to Bill. He wanted him gone, scrubbed out of his mind and locked out. Every time. Every time Dipper tried to do anything fun at all, Bill ruined it. Had Dipper offended the universe? Why did it insist on torturing him and saddling him with a freaking demon? 

It wasn't fair. It just was not fair!

"Life's not fair, Pine Tree," Bill said, his hallucination leaning casually against the lamp beside Dipper's bed. "But it sure did give me a gift." Talk about over dramatic , Dipper briefly thought as he lay shaking from fear and horror on his bed. 

His cruel laughter echoed in Dipper's mind for the rest of the day and night.

Chapter Text

After almost murdering Pacifica in front of an entire crowd, Dipper had expected Mabel to avoid him and for someone in the crowd to call the police. Much to his surprise, neither of those happened. Seconds after he'd returned to the Shack to panic and question his sanity, Mabel slammed open the attic door with enough force to break the hinges. 

"Shoot! I didn't mean to do that!" Mabel cried as the door hung pathetically off of two hinges, the top one having snapped from Mabel's inhuman slam. She patted the door in an apology and began looking wildly around the room, fury etched visibly in the scowl on her face. "Fess up, Dipper. Was it Bill?"

Dipper and Bill were shocked out of their minds. Mabel started pointing at random spots in the air as if trying to find where Bill was floating. She just barely missed pointing at where he sat below the lamp, his eye wide with shock. Dipper had no clue what to say, so he sat in silence, thinking he had imagined Mabel's accusation. 

"Come on, bro-bro. I know it wasn't you who tried to kill Pacifica," Mabel said harshly, still glaring around the room. "What did Bill do?" 

"He-um-well-uh- uuuh." Dipper's tongue flailed uselessly in his mouth, his mind struggling to form the right words. The surprise was numbing his brain, and all he could do was stare at Mabel blankly. "I... don't... know?" 

Mabel raised an eyebrow in disbelief, her eyes shimmering with anger. Dipper sighed heavily and gave himself a firm slap to snap him out of his shock. 

"He was... messing... with my... emotions... I think?" Dipper shrugged, looking at Mabel desperately like she could help come up with an explanation. "I just... He was encouraging me to-to kill her... And I just felt so angry... I don't know." He wrapped his arms around his legs and sighed again. 

Mabel's eye twitched, and her fingers dug into the palms of her hands. "Oh really?" she said, her voice strained from barely contained fury. "Well... I HAVE SOME WORDS I'D LIKE TO SHARE WITH HIM!" Dipper flinched as her yell resonated through the attic; he wouldn't be surprised if Grunkle Stan had heard it, if he was home. Mabel spun on her heel, face scarlet and shaking from anger. She stormed out of the attic, muttering under her breath, leaving Dipper and Bill alone to unpack what they had seen. 

Bill let out a whistle. "Wow. Shooting Star's got a real temper. I need to be more careful."

"How about you just don't manipulate me at all?" Dipper snapped. Mabel wasn't the only one furious with the demon. 

"You ask for the impossible, Pine Tree," Bill replied cheerfully. Dipper ground his teeth and readied a retort when the attic door slammed open yet again with the force of a sledgehammer. The second hinge whined in protest but managed to stay intact. Dipper looked up and saw Mabel again except she was holding a bunch of candles and a match. Why did she need candles? 

The answer became clear as Mabel carefully set them in a circle, a familiar circle. Dipper stayed silent, holding his questions back as he knew she would not answer. He didn't know which spell she planned to cast, but he could feel Bill becoming wary. The sweet smell of vanilla and chocolate filled the air, and Dipper smirked. Of course Mabel would use scented candles; normal ones were too boring to use even for casting a spell or summoning a demon. He was surprised that Bill wasn't quivering in fear because Mabel looked ready to rip him apart with her bare hands. 

"Triangulum, entangulum," she recited, face scrunched up from the effort of recalling the fancy probably-not-actually-Latin words. Dipper was amazed that she'd remembered the chant; he certainly didn't. Then again he'd been worrying over whether or not the spell would work. He prepared himself for the pulling sensation he'd feel when Mabel finished reciting, when he would be tugged out of his own body into that small circle. The air itself went still as Mabel collapsed and started speaking in reverse. 

"What's she doing?" Bill mumbled in confusion. Dipper fought back another smirk. He knew exactly what Mabel planned to do, and he planned to enjoy every second of it. He closed his eyes as the attic was sapped of color and his head spun. A few moments later he was face-down on the floor. 

Standing up, he said, "Why do I end up on the floor while he gets to float?" He glared at Bill like it was his fault. Bill rolled his eye and looked disappointed as he lifted up his wrist and saw the same pale chain attached to it. 

Mabel's eyes changed back to their normal brown color, and she slowly locked eyes with Bill, trembling from holding back a yell. To her credit, Bill actually backed away, having not expected to be confronted by a human ball of rage. 

" YOU !" Mabel shrieked. Her voice was so ear piercingly loud that Dipper clamped his hands over his ears to protect his fragile eardrums. "What were you doing to my brother?"

Bill threw his hands up like he was offended by the question, but Dipper could see from his shrunken pupil that he was nervous. "Nothing! That was entirely him, I swear!" 

Mabel cracked her knuckles, her flaming gaze never leaving the triangle. "Oh, you think you can fool me?" she practically growled. "I'm not an idiot, Bill. If Dipper had done that himself, why'd he looked so terrified? Why would he ask you what you want from him?" 

Dipper couldn't hold back a noise of surprise. She'd heard that? Guess he'd talked louder than he'd thought. Bill lowered his hands, and his eye narrowed. Slowly he brought his hands together and began clapping. 

"Well, congratulations, Shooting Star. You caught me!" If he had a mouth, he'd be pouting. "What a shame. I was having such fun messing with Pine Tree's mind. All your human emotions are so fascinating... I just wanted to, you know, experiment with them a little... Just a little." The words sounded innocent enough, but the malevolence buried beneath was clear. 

Dipper's face flushed. "I am not a lab rat!" he snapped, giving the chain around his wrist an angry tug. It pulled at Bill's wrist a tiny bit, but the triangle was otherwise unbothered. 

Mabel jumped at Bill, and he floated a few inches above her head, close to her but far enough to keep her from touching him. He was taunting her. Mabel gave up after a couple of attempts and shot Bill a dirty glare. 

"If you don't stop messing with Dipper, I'm going to spray your eye with spray paint," she threatened. 

Bill tsked and wagged a finger. "Nuh-uh-uh. I can't feel pain in the mindscape." He could have been bluffing, but it was hard to tell since Bill always sounded smug and cocky. 

"Don't care. I'll spray it anyway." 

"You humans are weird." Bill reclined on the air, sending the twins a dismissive look. "You think you, a couple of children, can stop what I have planned! Puh-lease! I'm more powerful than you could ever imagine!" 

"You've said that at least fifty times. Repeating it won't convince us it's true," Dipper said in exasperation. 

"Watch your tone, Pine Tree," Bill scolded. He snapped his fingers, and a searing pain shot up Dipper's arm. He cried and clutched his arm as something thin and tight dug into his flesh. Eyes watering, he managed to see a thin golden string wrapped right below his wrist, his skin blotched with blue and red from the string cutting off his blood flow. 

His blood running cold, Dipper tugged at the string. His nails scratched his skin, the string so tightly wrapped into his arm that it was impossible to grip it. "Wh-what is this thing?" he cried as Mabel rushed to try and help. His sister's rage had been replaced by horror, and her shaking hands were useless in trying to pull the string off. 

It turned out that Bill was as equally as surprised by the string's appearance as they were. "Wait, that's not supposed to show up," he muttered, snapping his fingers again. The twins were too preoccupied with panicking to hear him, and they jumped as the string disappeared from Dipper's wrist, leaving the chain and smooth unbothered skin behind. 

The twins instantly swiveled their gazes to Bill. "What the heck was that?" they both yelled, matching expressions of fear on their faces. Fear of Bill. 

"A warning," Bill replied simply, floating down to their eye level. "I can do whatever I want to your brother's mind, Shooting Star, so be a good girl and stop interfering with my experiments. Maybe then I'll consider leaving Pine Tree alone." 

Mabel wrapped her arms protectively around Dipper, who appreciated the gesture but felt like he was being treated like a baby. "And how long will you be doing these 'experiments?'" she asked, voice shaking in fear for Dipper. 

"For however long I want." Bill had them backed into a corner, and he knew it. His eye was gleaming with triumph and glee at their fear, and if he had a mouth he'd be grinning. 

Irritation made Dipper push Mabel away from him and face Bill directly. "Oh, I'm sorry, do I not have a say in what goes on in MY mind?" He jabbed a finger at his head for extra emphasis. "Is it not enough to let me live my life the way I want?" 

"Yes," Bill answered. 

Dipper took a deep breath, knowing that losing his temper would result in more pain and frustration for him and Mabel. "Can you at least not make me try to kill people?" he asked in a small, desperate voice. It pained him to suck up to the thorn in his mind, but Bill seemed to love watching people beg. 

"Haha, no."

Dipper started to protest, but he was forced back into his body as color returned to the attic around him. He checked his wrist for any injuries and was relieved to find that his arm was unharmed. Then the full weight of the conversation hit him, and he sank to the ground, dread and despair freezing his limbs. A loud slap echoed around the room as Mabel hit the ground with her fist. 

"I. HATE. THAT. STUPID. TRIANGLE!" she yelled, accenting each word with a thump on the wood floor. She wheeled to face Dipper, angry tears streaming down her face. "WHAT ELSE HAS HE DONE TO YOU?" 

A weak laugh escaped out of Dipper's mouth as he smudged his face into the ground. "Too much, it seems," he mumbled. The fog in his mind, the gaps in his memories, the feeling that his emotions weren't his own. He now knew the cause. It had been Bill the entire time, manipulating his mind for the sake of satisfying his sadistic idea of entertainment. A sob tore at his throat; he hadn't realized he'd been crying. A hand grasped his, and his eyes flicked to meet Mabel's; hers were bursting with vicious determination. 

"We're getting him out," she vowed. Dipper opened his mouth to point out that they'd tried every possible option they knew, but Mabel plowed on, refusing to let him speak. "I don't care if he says it's impossible, I don't care if we've tried everything. He's gone too far. We need to stop him." She heaved Dipper to his feet and held out a fist. "We are the Mystery Twins, and we are not going to let a stupid triangle ruin our summer."

Dipper's mouth tugged into a small smile. "Yeah... we won't." The chances of them succeeding were in the negatives, but Dipper wanted to hope that it could work. Believing otherwise meant Bill won and was free to torture Dipper forever. 

___

Bill chuckled in amusement as he listened to the twins come up with ridiculous ideas on how to banish him from Pine Tree's mind. He ran a finger over the spines of Pine Tree's memories, symbolized by books that contained every shred and piece of his insignificant life. Humans were so stupid. The failed attempt at summoning him out of Pine Tree was proof enough that Bill was trapped. Why couldn't they accept it? Bill knocked a tiny book off a shelf and mused that maybe it was because they sensed his intentions. Fordsy had blatantly stated that Bill was untrustworthy and dangerous, and Pine Tree practically worshipped every fancy schmancy word Sixer had jotted down in that journal. 

But he was content to watch the twins work themselves up over nothing. Their terror and despair when they eventually realized how fruitless their mission was would be so amusing, and Bill would relish holding it over Pine Tree's head and maybe Shooting Star's (Pine Tree didn't like sharing Bill's negative comments to her). 

At least he had convinced them that his purpose was just to mess with Pine Tree and not to start the apocalypse. The twins had been severe roadblocks to his plans last time, and he intended to have his takeover happen more smoothly when the time came. Obviously Pine Tree needed to know about his goal as he would inevitably find out when Bill finally had complete control over the child's mind. Shooting Star, on the other hand, needed to be kept off the trail for as long as possible. She would stop at nothing to keep Bill away from her and her brother, and that dedication posed a serious threat to Bill's plans. 

For now, Bill continued to wait, content to let the twins plan as he watered the seeds of his influence in the mind of his little puppet. 

___

Dipper and Mabel holed themselves up in the attic, debating and considering many ideas on how to banish Bill. Mabel sketched out detailed pictures of her literally kicking Bill in the eye while Dipper perused the journal for the thousandth time in the hopes that the maroon tome held a clue he had overlooked. Their focus never wavered, and Stan had to physically drag them to the kitchen to make them eat. They scarfed down their meals and accidentally hurt their stomachs then dove right back into brainstorming. Dipper greatly disapproved of how most of their ideas had no scientific backing or proof behind them, but his hands were tied; one of the ideas could still work even if it didn't make logical sense. 

Their behavior worried Stan, who wondered if both twins were falling ill. Occasionally he sent Soos to the attic to check on the twins and make sure that they were still alive. Soos was always met with the sight of two frenzied kids throwing paper everywhere and rambling about drop kicking a triangle. The handyman considered informing Stan about the demon trapped in Dipper's mind but eventually decided that Stan had enough on his plate without adding a demon to the mix. Soos' visits ended with him leaving a candy bar outside the door, which stayed there until his next visit. By the end of two days, a pile of candy bars had built itself up outside the attic door. 

Everyday Stan tried to lure the twins out of their room by inviting them to join him for fun family activities like ghost hunting, throwing toilet paper at Gideon's house, and bowling. He never received a response from the children, only distant sounds of contemplating holy water. Four days after their strange behavior started, the twins strolled through the gift shop with matching frustrated looks and a soaking wet Dipper. The news ended up reporting that the twins had been caught dumping a local church's supply of holy water over Dipper. Stan helped Mabel dry Dipper before he caught a cold, and then he lectured them for their weird behavior and asked them to be honest. The twins stubbornly refused to talk, and Stan tore some of his hair out in frustration. 

The fifth day was just like the days before it. Mabel and Dipper locked themselves in the attic, spending all hours of the day in there except for meals, and probably pulling another all-nighter. Dipper's eyebags grew worse every morning, and dark shadows started to appear under Mabel's eyes. Mabel, who never got eyebags no matter how late she stayed up. 

By the sixth day, Stan considered taking them to a doctor because it seemed, to him, that the twins were going insane. As tempted as he was to break down their door- the hinges of which were suspiciously broken- and carry them to the doctor, his responsibilities as the Shack's owner took higher priority. The Mystery Shack's fair had been set up while Dipper and Mabel acted like hermits, and Stan was obligated to attend to it first as it was too late to cancel it. As he gazed out upon the construction of his poorly designed fair games, an idea struck him like a lightning bolt. With the loud bangs and booms of construction, the twins surely had to come out to investigate! They were naturally curious children, especially Dipper, so they must be interested in what the noise was about! 

They didn't come out. 

On the seventh day, Stan kicked down the attic door and marched over to the twins, who were frantically pushing papers and a book under Dipper's bed. Stan did not question the paper or the books and bent down and plucked them up by the collars of their sweaters. He carried them outside without a word, ignoring their shrieks of defiance, and deposited them in the midst of the fair being prepared. 

Their sweaters were covered in dirt, and their hair was tangled and greasy from a lack of showering in seven days. Dipper's eyes were ringed with black like a raccoon's, and his nails had been gnawed to the beds. Mabel's headband had fallen off at some point over the week, leaving her hair to fall across her face. The unkempt twins raced for the door the second Stan set them down, and he blocked their path seconds before they got to the porch. 

"Nope. You two aren't going anywhere," he said sternly, hands on his hips. "Unless it's to take a shower. Phew! You two stink!" 

"Move, Grunkle Stan!" Mabel cried, stepping to the side in preparation to dart for the door again. Stan scooped them up and walked back to the fair, tuning out their cries and kicks. 

"Look, you kids have been holed up in your room for too long," he said. "You need fresh air and some fun, or else you'll get as wrinkly as me. And you don't want that, do you?" 

Dipper covered his ears and repeated, "No, no, no, no. Not again. Not again!" 

Mabel squirmed and dug her nails into Stan's arm. He yelped but managed to keep his hold on her. "You leave him alone, you monster!" she shrieked, causing Stan to wince as his old ears rattled from her volume. 

"Agh, kids! Calm down! I'm just taking you to the fair!" Stan grunted as both kids scratched and wiggled in his grasp. Dipper kept muttering, "Please don't" under his breath which incensed Mabel and led to her fighting harder to escape from Stan's grip. Stan felt his face turn red from the exertion of keeping the struggling kids in arms. "What the heck, you two? I'm not doing anything!" He screamed wildly as Mabel sunk her teeth into his forearm; dropping the twins, he rolled up his sleeves and was stunned to find a neat row of deep pink indents in his skin. Mabel had bit him hard enough to hurt him through his sleeve. He spun to face the kids, concerned and irritated by their strange behavior. 

Mabel kneeled next to Dipper, shaking the poor boy like he was maracas. "What's he doing, Dip, what's he saying?" Her voice raised to a shout with each word, her eyes full of crazed panic. 

Dipper said something incoherent due to Mabel's aggressive shaking. Stan hovered nearby, unsure if he should approach his niece and nephew. They were acting so weird... was it even safe to come near them? Mabel looked ready to kill the nearest person, her shoulders heaving as she breathed deeply to control herself. Dipper just looked resigned and absent-mindedly gave Mabel a pat on the shoulder. He whispered something in her ear, so quiet that Stan couldn't hear him no matter how hard he strained. Mabel snapped something back, and the two argued amongst themselves as Stan stood a few feet away, questioning their sanity. Finally the twins pushed themselves to their feet and brushed grass stains from their clothes. Stan latched onto the opportunity to approach them, assuming they had calmed down enough to let him speak. The twins huddled together as he pulled a clipboard out of his pocket; their eyes were dark with exhaustion. 

"I printed out some fake safety inspection certificates," Stan said, splitting up the giant stack of paper on the clipboard in half. "Go slap one on anything that looks dangerous." He gave Mabel one half of the stack and pushed the clipboard onto Dipper. 

"Grunkle Stan, is that legal?" Mabel asked, almost dropping the papers. Sheesh, did the kids get any sleep the past week? Dipper stared at the clipboard in his hands like he'd never seen one in his life, his eyes dim and uncomprehending. 

"When there's no cops around, anything's legal!" Stan declared. The twins yawned loudly, and Stan's posture drooped as he began to wonder if making them exert themselves when they were clearly sleep deprived was cruel. "Erm, do you two, uh, need to take a nap? ‘Cause I can put the certificates up myself if you want to go catch some z's." 

"No, no, it's fine." Dipper's voice was barely audible, and Stan had to lean down to make out what he was saying. 

"Are you sure?" Stan stressed. 

"Wait, they have cotton candy!" Mabel suddenly shouted. "Screw Bill, we're taking a break!" She grabbed Dipper's wrist and dragged her about-to-collapse twin with her deeper into the fair. They left behind a puzzled Stan, who couldn't for the life of him grasp the meaning of what Mabel said. 

"Bill? Is that a person or are they talking about money?" he muttered to himself. Then he shrugged. "At least they're out of their room now." He whistled as he went around the fair checking on all the attractions. He was pleased to find that the Dunk the Grunkle game was rigged so well that the chances of him getting dunked were zero . 

Meanwhile the twins put up all the fake safety certificates and managed to stay conscious until the fair opened. Mabel bought two things of cotton candy, and the twins sat on a bench and ate their sugary treat in silence. Dipper only ate his because Mabel sent him pleading looks to eat it. His stomach churned uncomfortably as his thoughts strayed to the moment when Stan carried them to the fair. He'd been angry at Stan for forcing them away when he and Mabel had been brainstorming, and Bill had decided to swoop in and try to convince Dipper to harm his own grunkle. Dipper took a large bite out of his cotton candy, letting the sweetness of the pink fluffy treat override the harsh memory. 

They remained on that bench for a long time until noon struck and Stan declared the dunk tank open. Dipper's eyes were falling shut as the sugar and heat caused him to fall asleep. He was abruptly jolted back to awareness as Mabel screamed.

"Oh my gosh, a pig!" 

Dipper squinted at the poster she was pointing at. It was for a “win a pig” competition, scheduled to go on for the entire day. Mabel bolted toward the pig stand, and Dipper followed more slowly; his head spun with every step, indicating that he was coming close to passing out. He pinched himself hard on the arm to fight back the exhaustion threatening to overwhelm him and stood beside Mabel as the announcer for the pig competition explained what the rules were. In order to win a pig, you had to correctly guess the pig's weight. Mabel locked eyes with an entirely pink pig, and the pig oinked. Mabel gasped like it had said something life shattering. 

"He said Mabel! He said Mabel, Dipper!" She shook Dipper excitedly. Dipper, blinking to keep himself awake, gave a half-hearted thumbs up. "Or doorbell. But you said Mabel, right?" she asked the pig. "Say Mabel!" The pig oinked again, and Dipper just heard pig noises. 

"I don't think he's saying anything, Mabel," he muttered. 

"Mister!" Mabel called to the presider of the stand. "I want that one!" She pointed to the pig who she thought had said Mabel. It hadn't. It really hadn't. 

"Ah, the good ol' fifteen pounder. How much you guessing he weighs?" the announcer asked. 

Dipper raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Did he seriously just give away the answer? What kind of competition was this? 

Mabel was equally confused. "Uh... fifteen pounds," she said, unsure if the guy had realized he'd given away the answer.

"Why, that's correct! Are you some kind of witch?" the guy asked. He handed the pig to Mabel, who squealed and hugged him tightly. The guy tried to give a knife and a fork to Mabel, presumably for eating the pig, but she shot him a glare and trotted away happily with her new pet. Dipper turned to follow her and smacked into the belly of a man wearing a gray suit. 

"Hey!" Dipper stumbled as the man scurried off, pushing past him without a thought. "Watch where you're going!" The man was in too big a hurry to hear him, though, so Dipper was left to struggle to his feet alone. His knee stung; Dipper checked it and huffed angrily as he saw he had scraped it. Blood welled from the small scrape, but the pain was stronger than it should be due to Dipper's lack of sleep. He spotted Mabel waving to him from a photo booth and tried to walk over to her without tripping again. Fortunately nobody else bumped into him, and he arrived at the photo booth without a hitch. 

"Who was that weird guy?" Mabel asked as Dipper leaned against the wall of the photo booth to catch his breath. His body seemed to want to be useless, and he suspected Bill had something to do with it. When the triangle confirmed it was indeed him, Dipper was too tired to yell at him. 

"You mean the one that bumped into me?" he clarified sourly. 

"Yeah, that guy. He was pretty rude," Mabel said, frowning in disapproval. "Where do you think he went?" 

"I don't know, but I need a bandage." Dipper held out his knee so Mabel could see the scrape. Mabel reached out and poked it. "Ow! Mabel, don't touch people's open wounds!" 

"Sorry!" Mabel wiped off the dot of blood on her finger on her skirt. "Do you think the fair has a first aid station?"

"Knowing Stan, probably not," Dipper said. "Let's go back to the Shack." 

As they headed back to the Shack, Mabel shoved her pig into his face. "I named him Waddles! ‘Cause he waddles!" She waved the pig's hooves around in the air, and Dipper cracked a smile. 

"Hilarious," Bill said sarcastically. 

"I think it's a great name!" Dipper defended, giving Waddles a pat on the head since Mabel was pushing the pig closer to his face. He yelped when Waddles' tongue swiped across his cheek. "Ew! Mabel, keep him away from my face!" 

"But he loves you!" Mabel cooed, holding Waddles closer. "Say, 'I love you, Dipper', Waddles!" The pig oinked obediently, and Dipper's mouth dropped open in surprise. Had the pig actually understood Mabel? Was he a magical pig? He'd need to investigate. 

Once Dipper's scrape was cleaned and bandaged, the twins took a nap in the living room since neither of them could hold their eyes open for any longer. Dipper curled up in the chair while Mabel stretched out on the floor and held Waddles as she slept. Their sleep was dreamless and peaceful, and they woke up to see the sun setting outside. The fair was still going, and the twins wandered back into the festivities to see if there were any last minute games they wanted to try. Stan had yet to be dunked in the tank, and the twins considered watching people fail at the game when they saw him again. 

"You!" Dipper angrily marched over to the man wearing a gray suit, who was fidgeting with the watch strapped to his wrist. The man jumped and flinched back as a set of angry twins approached him. "You should pay attention to where you're going!"

"Yeah! Have some manners!" Mabel agreed, lifting Waddles into the air threateningly like he was a weapon of great destruction. "My brother scraped his knee because of you!" 

"I mean, it was just a tiny scrape, but it could have been worse!" Dipper jabbed a finger at the man. 

"Apologize!" Mabel cried. "Or face death!" 

"Tone it down, Mabel," Dipper whispered out of the corner of his mouth. 

The man backed away, face creasing with anxiety. "Oh no! My position's b-been compromised! Uh-uh- initiating color match!" He twisted the watch on his wrist, and his suit changed to the background of the forest. Dipper and Mabel gasped in amazement at the sight of magical clothing. The man grunted in frustration and took out a red screwdriver to fix his watch. "Come on, dang it!" 

"Oh, great, it's a time traveler," Bill grunted in disdain. 

Dipper's eyes widened in excitement. A time traveler? He spun Mabel around and whispered, a bit too loudly, "Oh my gosh, Mabel, this guy's a time traveler!" 

"A time traveler?" Mabel whisper-shrieked. 

Behind them, the time traveler spluttered in panic. "Uh, um, no-no! I'm n-not! Uh-uh- memory wipe!" He extracted a blue wipe from his pocket and threw it into Mabel's face. Mabel slid it off and eyed it, bewildered by the man's strange behavior. 

"This is a baby wipe," she said, dropping it onto the ground. Waddles happily stomped over it. 

Dipper grinned as an idea formed in his mind. Time travel... It was an option he and Mabel had considered a couple of days ago, but they'd dismissed it due to the lack of time machines in reality. Standing before them, however, was a living breathing time traveler, who must have his time machine on him or around Gravity Falls somewhere in order to be in their time. 

"Where's your time machine?" he asked the man, his dislike of the man evaporating instantly now that he was actually important and not some random stranger. 

"Th-th-that's classified information! I'm n-not t-telling that to a c-cou-ouple of kids!" The time traveler crossed his arms and scowled. 

Mabel blew a raspberry. "We're just curious! It's not like we're going to steal it or anything!" She shook her head as if the idea was impossible to consider. Yeah, they definitely would not steal it. Definitely.

"O-oh, alright. It-it's too late n-now, I guess," the time traveler sighed. Dipper expected to see a fancy futuristic object that couldn't possibly blend in in their time. Like in the movies. To his crushing disappointment, the time traveler pulled out a tape measurer. 

Dipper and Mabel stared at the tape measurer in silence for several long seconds. 

"You're messing with us," Dipper said at last. 

"There's no way that's a time machine," Mabel agreed. 

"No, it is," Bill confirmed the legitimacy of the object. "That actually is a time travel device, believe it or not." 

"A-alright, you've cornered me." The man sighed despondently. "I... am a time traveler. And this-" he held up the tape measurer- "is an actual time machine." 

Dipper still didn't think the machine was impressive enough. "Can I borrow it?" he asked. 

"N-no! Out of the q-question! This is sensitive, extremely c-complicated time equipment!" The guy clutched the machine closer to his chest as if he expected Dipper to snatch it from him. Which he could. The amulet was nestled in his sleeve, patiently waiting to be pulled out. 

"I think this guy's crazy," Mabel whispered skeptically and loudly. Since only Dipper could hear Bill, she wasn't as confident about the time machine's authenticity. 

The time traveler was offended by her doubts and stretched out the tape measurer. "You don't believe me?" He let go, and Dipper and Mabel shielded their eyes from the bright blue flash that zapped the time traveler away. They gaped at the spot where he had stood, Mabel now thoroughly convinced that the tape measurer was in fact a time machine. The man reappeared a second later, wearing a sixteenth century style costume. "Guess where I was!" 

"Woah!" Dipper and Mabel gasped in awe, unable to help themselves. Dipper could feel Bill's annoyance at their childish reaction. 

"That's right! Fifteen years ago there was a costume store, right here! One second!" He pulled the tape measurer again, and the twins covered their eyes as the blue light flashed again. The man reappeared, but his head and part of his suit was on fire. "Aw, heck! Pat down, pat down!" He extinguished the fire quickly. Guess time traveling came with the risk of setting on fire. Weird. 

"So... who are you again?" Mabel asked. They had never gotten the man's name, though Dipper didn't really care. He just wanted that tape measurer. 

"Blendin Blandin, Time Anomaly Removal Crew year twenty sñeventy twelve." He presented his ID card to the twins, which had the confusing date listed along with a picture of Blendin, who looked nervous. "My mission is to stop a series of time anomalies that are supposed to happen at this very location, but I don't see any anomalies! I don't know if it's some kind of paradox or if I'm just really tired!" He sat down on a bundle of hay and rested his chin on his hand. 

Dipper shot a look at Mabel, and they silently communicated through eyebrow wiggles and blinks. Dipper pointed at the tape measurer and then made a triangle with his hands. Mabel gave a thumbs up. When they had finished, they faced Blendin again. 

"You know, you sound like you could use a break," Dipper said. 

"Definitely, definitely," Mabel said, nodding. "Might we recommend one of the various attractions at the Mystery Fair?" She held up two golden tickets, the bait for the fish they were luring. 

Blendin fell for it like a moth to a flame. "You know what? What the heck! I'm worth it!" He gratefully accepted the tickets Mabel handed them. "But I got my eye on you!" He walked backwards toward the barrel ride, and Dipper and Mabel exchanged a pleased look. Success! They crept after Blendin and watched as he deposited the tickets for the ride. "One, please!" 

"Aw, sorry, dude, but you're going to have to take your belt off for the ride," Soos said apologetically. "One of your tools might fly off and accidentally fix something." 

Blendin, without any hesitation, handed the most powerful object in existence to Soos. "Guard it with your life!" he ordered. 

"I'll watch it like a hawk, dude!" Soos promised. Dipper knew for a fact he would not. Soos set the toolbelt down on the barrel next to him, and Dipper quickly snatched it up. Soos' eyes were fixed on Blendin as he spun in a barrel, and he never saw Dipper take the belt or the twins sneaking away toward the Shack, tape in hand. 

Dipper set the tape measurer onto the living room table, and the twins eyed it reverently. Mabel put Waddles in the chair next to her, and they continued to admire the time machine. Its size was considerably smaller on a table; it looked so useless. 

"Here it is, Mabel. Our ticket to any moment in history," Dipper said... very dramatically. It was a tense moment, though, so he was being dramatic for a reason. 

"Do you think it'll work?" Mabel held one of Waddles' hooves in her hands as comfort. "I mean... This is our best shot at kicking him out." 

Dipper brushed his fingers against the yellow surface of the tape measurer, fighting to quell the tide of aching relief threatening to spill through him. They hadn't succeeded yet. "We can... redo the beginning of summer," he mumbled. 

Mabel's eyes sparkled with hope at the thought. "We won't have to deal with Gideon!" 

"I won't get sick." Dipper picked up the tape measurer and took hold of the silver part that extended the tape. "He won't bother us ever again!" 

"Let's do it!" Mabel cheered. She reached out to touch the tape measurer as well, Waddles clutched tight under her arm. 

And then it happened. Time seemed to slow, seconds becoming minutes, as Dipper's hand moved against his will. His eyes widened in horror as the tape extended far beyond what he had originally planned. His gaze locked with Mabel's, his mouth forming an O shape as his left hand tapped the button at the top of the tape measurer. And not the backwards button, like Dipper had intended, but the forward button. The one that would send him into the future. Mabel grabbed at his arm, but she was a split second too late. Dipper vanished from the present in a flash of blue light, and Mabel remained in the Shack, hands clamped over her mouth as she processed what had occurred. 

There was only one explanation: Bill Cipher.

Chapter Text

"I don't want you to stay! I don't want to leave you! I just want summer to last forever!" 

"And who says it can't?" 

"W-what?" 

"In my backpack, there's a device. A device that can extend time for as long as you want it to." 

"I- I don't get it..." 

"You want summer to last forever? I can make it last forever. Just give me the device, and it'll be done." 

"A-and you won't leave?" 

"Leave? Why would I leave when I could have endless summer with my twin? You're more important than an apprenticeship, Mabel." 

"Th-thanks. Um... what's this device you were talking about?" 

"It looks like a snow globe except with a bunch of stars and stuff. I put it in near the top." 

"Is it this?" 

"Yes. Perfect. Be gentle with it, it's fragile." 

"O-okay." 

"Excellent. Now, before we get started, I'd just like to thank you for all the support and love you've shown me over this summer. It meant a lot." 

"Aw, you're welcome, bro." 

"And I really, truly am sorry for what I'm about to do." 

"What are you talking about, Dip- no !" 

Dipper shot up from the ground with a jolt, his chest heaving as his lungs fought for air. The cry rang in his head, haunting him and sending chills through his body. Mabel. Where was Mabel? He fought to get to his feet, mind whirling as the cry continued to haunt his ears. The cry was Mabel's; he'd know her voice anywhere. 

"Mabel!" he shouted, scrambling to push himself to his feet. His hands slipped on a soaking wet floor, and he cried out in pain as he felt the skin on one of his hands tear away. The other still had a firm grip on the tape measurer, the plastic warm. Dipper raised his head and glanced around, gasping for breath as fear burned in his veins. 

Dark red bricks surrounded him on all sides, and a sickly orange light bathed the room from a light source behind him. The foul odor of smoke wafted into the room, and he could faintly hear screams and yells coming from outside. He twisted around and saw a small triangular window blocked off with bars. His legs flopped like they were made of useless jelly, and he crawled to the window, almost choking on the smoke pouring in from outside. Pressing his face against the freezing cold bars, Dipper peered outside. He stiffened at the sight before him, unable to believe what he was seeing. 

The sky was a dark mix of orange and red, and multicolored bubbles bounced above and in the town below. Wherever Dipper was was floating above the town, and he had a clear view of fires blazing through the forest and terrifying and gruesome monsters chasing after people. Dipper choked on his own saliva when he saw a giant version of Gompers, the Mystery Shack's goat, crunch the top of a building off. 

"Oh, it's beautiful," Bill breathed in wonder. 

"Beautiful?" Dipper turned away from the window, his breathing funny. The disturbing images of what he had viewed flashed through his mind as he slid to the freezing brick floor. "This is chaos! Where the heck am I? When am I?" 

"I sent us into the future," Bill said. "If I'm guessing correctly, it's several days before you and your sister are supposed to go back to California." 

Dipper couldn't take being in this awful future any longer. He stretched out the tape measurer to what he hoped was the correct time. "Goodbye, future-that-will-hopefully-not-become-mine." Bill suddenly laughed, and Dipper paused, tape still stretched out. Bill's laugh hadn't sounded right. Any sound Bill made was confined to Dipper's head and came from all directions at equal speeds. Dipper's heart pounded faster as Bill laughed again. It sounded like it came from a single point outside his head, but that was impossible. Bill was stuck in his head, he couldn't get out of it! 

"That's not me, Pine Tree." Bill's image settled beside Dipper, eye alight with joy. "At least, not the me from your present." 

"All the more reason to leave," Dipper said, unwilling to be around two Bills for longer than necessary. 

Bill chuckled, amused by his ignorance. Poor kid was oblivious to the implications of what he was hearing. Dipper was about to release the tape when a voice interrupted him. A familiar voice. A very familiar voice.

"Leaving so soon?" 

Dipper jolted back as the tape measurer disappeared from his hands. His breath caught in his throat. No! His only tool to escape this accursed future! He whirled around to face the owner of the voice he had heard and froze in shock. 

Another Dipper leaned against the brick wall of the cramped room, spinning the tape measurer in his hand. No, not in his hand. Above his hand, twirling it inches from the tip of his finger. The other Dipper was cloaked in shadow, his cap and face the only things illuminated by the pallid orange light leaking through the window. 

"Uh, can I have that back?" Dipper requested, feeling awkward to be talking to his own face. "I-I need to use it and, you know, change something in-in the past." He coughed and rubbed the back of his neck, face flushed red. This was so awkward. 

"Ah, I see." Other Dipper pressed a fingertip against the bottom of the time machine. He spun it in the air, the tape measurer floating with nothing holding it. For some unknown reason, the hair on Dipper's arms stood up. "Yes, I remember this. What was it Mabel and I wanted to do again?" His eyes flashed with dark amusement. "Oh, right. Kick Bill out of my mind." 

Dipper's heart quickened, and sweat pooled in his palms. He felt... scared, but... why? He was talking to himself, so there was nothing to be scared of, except... He wanted to flee. He wanted to hide. The air in what was looking more like a cell with every passing second was full of malice and cold, and he just wanted to leave! 

"I-I would like to have that back now," he choked out, pointing at the tape measurer spinning in the air with nothing to hold it. Magic. Magic was holding it there, but there was no one in the room except the Dippers. 

Other Dipper tilted his head, his brown eyes thrown into sharp relief as the orange light reflected off of it. A wide grin split his face, and Dipper's stomach lurched as all of his teeth were revealed in a grin so wide it looked painful. He dropped his gaze to the floor, questioning why his other self would even smile like that. 

"Hahaha! Pine Tree, I forgot how dumb you used to be!" Bill's voice cackled... from the corner where the other Dipper stood. "Sorry, kid, but we need to have a little discussion about certain things before you leave to 'kick me out!'" He laughed harshly, and Dipper swore he heard his own voice mixed in there. He cleaned his ears, convinced it had been his imagination. 

Shoes tapped against the brick floor as his future self approached him. Dipper risked a glance up, but the enormous disgusting grin had disappeared, though Other Dipper was smirking like he was watching a funny show. Now that he was out of his shadowy corner, Dipper could clearly see all of him. His shoes were his regular tennis shoes and his hat the same as it had always been, but the similarities in their clothing ended there. Other Dipper wore a fancy yellow vest over a long-sleeved black shirt, and he was- why was he wearing dress pants? The world looked like it was ending outside, and he was wearing dress pants? Dipper rubbed his eyes, convinced his sanity was broken and that he was hallucinating. 

Other Dipper looked perturbed by Dipper's reaction to fully seeing him. "I'm sorry, is there something wrong?" he asked, his tone snarky. He held the tape measurer in one of his hands, and he raised it into the air. Dipper's heart thudded in fear that he would destroy it. 

"No!" The answer exploded out of him. He struggled to rise to his feet, hating that the Other Dipper had such an imposing presence while he could barely stand on a single leg. "Just... Curious as to why you're wearing dress pants in what looks like an apocalypse." 

"That's Bill's fault," Other Dipper responded automatically. "Trust me, I despise this outfit. It's so uncomfortable!" 

"Tell him my taste is good," Bill snapped, offended. 

"Why? He's not wrong," Dipper said at the same time Other Dipper said, with that same painful grin, "It's called fashion, Pine Tree!" Dipper cut himself off and stared at the other Dipper in confusion. He swore he had heard Bill's voice and not his own...

"Your fashion sense sucks, Bill," Other Dipper said in response to wherever Bill's voice had come from. 

Dipper had the feeling he should intervene before an argument started. Now that he was seeing it in person, he realized how crazy he looked talking to Bill; it was strange being on the other side and unable to see who he was talking to. He attempted again to stand on his own two feet and collapsed, a pained cry escaping his mouth before he could block it. Why weren't his legs working?

Other Dipper smirked at his pain and kicked his leg. "Paralysis. It's so you won't run off." Dipper's eyes widened in surprise, momentarily stunned and wondering if he had read his thoughts. "Also yes, we can read your thoughts." 

The "reading thoughts" revelation was nowhere near as concerning as "his other self drugged him" problem. "You drugged me?" Dipper yelled, disturbed, at his future self, who merely shrugged. Shrugged! Like drugging someone, especially yourself, wasn't a big deal! 

"Not really. We froze your legs with magic." Other Dipper grinned like paralyzing people was funny. "You're lucky we were right there when you appeared. That head-guy was really determined to eat you." He kicked Dipper's leg again. "Did you want us to unfreeze these bad boys? Or would you rather stay helpless and weak?" 

Uneasiness stirred in Dipper's chest, increasing his fear and the speed of his heart. His eyes flicked around the miniature room, expecting to see others creeping in the shadows. He could sense something was off. Other Dipper was acting... well, he was acting like Bill. 

"Why do you keep saying 'we?'" Dipper asked softly, watching Other Dipper carefully for his reaction. 

Other Dipper waved a hand dismissively. "You'll understand later, when the time comes. Now answer my question," he snapped, his patience thinning. 

"I'd like to have control of my limbs, thank you very much," Dipper said, equally frustrated. Every second he spent in Other Dipper's presence made him more certain that there was something wrong with his future self. If Other Dipper was even his future self. He might be an impostor, someone pretending to be Dipper so he could trick him. As the numbness in Dipper's legs dissipated, the wariness flooding his mind increased. 

Other Dipper carefully slid the tape measurer into his pocket. "To make sure you don't try anything," he said when he noticed Dipper looking at his pocket. "And we'll take your amulet, too." He snapped his fingers, and the blue jewel appeared in his hands much to Dipper's shock. 

"How'd you do that?" he demanded, his suspicions of Other Dipper growing. Humans couldn't do magic, and Dipper didn't see him holding the amulet. 

Other Dipper smiled and twitched a finger. Against his will, Dipper's legs moved to stand, and Dipper fought back panic as he lost control of his body and floated into the air. Other Dipper walked to a door Dipper hadn't noticed; the door blended in with the dark red wall and seemed to materialize out of thin air as Other Dipper approached it. His hand rested on the handle, but Other Dipper did not open the door. Instead he glanced up at Dipper. 

"This is when I'm supposed to find out about The Plan, right?" he asked. "You want me to find out now, Past Bill?"

"Tell him that I give future me permission to say whatever he wants," Bill said in response to Other Dipper. 

Dipper scowled and crossed his arms rebelliously. He wouldn't do Bill any favors, especially since he was why they were in this mess! Other Dipper frowned when he got no response. 

"Come on, me. We don't have all day," he snapped impatiently. 

Dipper could not hold back the sassy response, though it wasn't like he put any effort in stopping himself. "I do," he said, smirking smugly. "I time-traveled, remember?" 

And then his throat was clogged up, and his head spun, and he choked, his vision going dark, and Other Dipper dropped him to the ground, and he was glaring at him and Dipper couldn't see but those eyes weren't his and- 

Dipper gasped for air and clutched at his throat as the pressure was released. He rubbed his skin, though nothing had touched it. Fearfully he met Other Dipper's gaze and almost hyperventilated. His eyes... 

"Thank goodness I don't have to put up with your attitude anymore," Other Dipper said in Bill's voice, his yellow eyes gleaming with disdain. He pressed a foot onto Dipper's chest, and Dipper choked again as Other Dipper- or was it Bill- put pressure on his vital organs. 

"I wish it could be the future now," Bill said in his head, voice thick with envy. 

Tears trickled down Dipper's face as whoever was before him stepped away. He scrambled away from someone who looked exactly like him but wasn't. "W-who a-are you?" he stuttered, quivering in terror. 

"Bill, at the moment." The eyes that shouldn't belong on any human face roved across Dipper, examining him for any sign of resistance. Vomit rose in Dipper's throat. Those yellow eyes with black slits for pupils... He whirled away and vomited on the floor in front of him. 

"Gross." 

"Hey, don't throw up in the room where we're going to toss corpses!" Future Bill sounded as disgusted and annoyed as Present Bill. 

Dipper rolled onto his side and tucked his knees into his chest, his breathing shaky and staggered. Why was Bill's voice coming out of his mouth? And why did his eyes look so inhuman? Dipper closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing. He wanted to go home. He wished he'd never taken the tape measurer. He wanted... 

He sat up abruptly, panic spiking his heart rate. "Where's Mabel?" he cried. He hoped for an answer, yet he dreaded what it would be. If Bill had done anything to her... 

Other Dipper/Bill blinked, and the yellow instantly shifted back to his normal brown. "She's doing great," he said, his face set in a careful neutral expression. "She doesn't know about Weirdmageddon or about Bill possessing me." 

"Can we hurry it up? I'm getting bored," Bill complained in Dipper's mind. He had given up trying to convince Dipper to be his Hermes, so he was relying on Other Dipper/Bill to read Dipper's mind. 

Dipper was about to ask what Weirdmageddon was when Other Dipper opened the cell door and shoved Dipper through it. He landed face first on a soft expensive blood red rug and looked up to find himself surrounded by books. He bit back a cry of pain as Other Dipper's fingers dug into his skin, tugging him to a fireplace with two comfy chairs. Other Dipper so graciously shoved Dipper onto the floor right in front of the fire and nestled into one of the plush dark blue chairs. Dipper's suspicions of an impostor grew as Other Dipper's arrogance grated on his nerves. 

"You're not going to start monologuing, are you?" Dipper asked as Other Dipper held up a finger to start talking. "And who am I talking to? Bill or me? Are you even me?" 

Other Dipper's eye twitched in annoyance, but he took a deep breath to calm down. Man. Irritating himself felt so good! Such a statement had negative connotations for his mental state, but Dipper didn't care. 

"You're talking to Dipper. And yes, I am you. I may not act like you, but what would you expect? Bill controls all my thoughts and actions, not me." Other Dipper spoke calmly and confidently as if being controlled by a demon didn't bother him at all. 

Dipper fidgeted uncomfortably. The thought of Bill controlling his very thoughts was nightmare fuel, but none of the terrifying knowledge would matter when he got the tape measurer. The apocalyptic future he was in would be erased when he went back in time and changed the past. He eyed Other Dipper's pocket. Would it be possible to steal the tape measurer when Other Dipper wasn't looking? He'd need his amulet, though. 

"So... what's Weirdmageddon?" Dipper asked to keep Other Dipper distracted. He needed a plan. He racked his brains which were providing no genius options to steal back both the amulet and the tape measurer. 

"Armageddon but weird," Other Dipper answered, snorting with laughter as he explained. "Don't question the name, Stanford made it up. Basically it is the apocalypse, and is happening right now. The Nightmare Realm, where Bill is from, is merging with our dimension. And don't think about trying to stop it. Bill will take you over long before even the portal opens." 

Dipper's blood ran cold at the warning. He eyed the fireplace tools hanging in a rack beside the fireplace and wondered if he could use them as weapons. Attacking himself wouldn't be too hard; he'd fought with Mabel clones, which was arguably more painful to fight than his own face. Carefully he inched closer to the tools, put off by the sharpness of the poker. After a few seconds he realized Other Dipper was watching him, studying his every movement. Dipper stilled and plastered on a fake smile, determined to convince his other self that he wasn't trying to grab a weapon. He was relieved to see that Other Dipper's eyes were normal; he didn't think he could stomach the sight of those awful yellow eyes again. 

Then Other Dipper snapped his fingers, and Journal 3 appeared in his hand, the cover more scuffed than usual. Dipper paled and frantically checked if that was his Journal 3, and he relaxed when he felt it still inside his sweater. The other him opened his Journal and began to read, ignoring Dipper entirely. Dipper resumed his approach to the fire tools now that Other Dipper was distracted, though he wondered why he had gotten out Journal 3 in the first place. Didn't he want to talk to him? 

Bill, who was sitting next to the fire tools, rolled his eye. "Obviously it's a trap," he said. 

The poker was warm under Dipper's touch; it must have been used recently. He quietly pulled it out of the rack, holding his breath in fear that the metal would scrape against the other tools and create a loud shriek that would alert Other Dipper. With a weapon in hand, Dipper turned to face his future self... and found that he was no longer on the chair. The only warning he got that someone was behind him was the goosebumps spreading across his neck. 

A hand grabbed the poker and used it to force Dipper around, almost throwing him to the ground. "Silly, silly, Pine Tree," Bill tutted through Other Dipper's mouth. Dipper looked away, unable to meet his unblinking yellow gaze. "I didn't say you could look away." Dipper cringed as he felt magic turn his head to look at the future Bill. "Attacking us when we were about to let you go? Rude." Bill ran a finger over the top of the poker, splitting the skin and causing blood to trickle from the wound. "It seems you learned nothing from our little chat. Let's remedy that, shall we, Pine Tree from the past?" 

A strange noise that sounded like a squeak and a gargle combined was the only noise Dipper could make. He flinched as Bill pointed the poker at him, scared of how much the demon would hurt him. 

"P-Please." Dipper hated how his fear and desperation bled into his voice. "I-I just want to go back to my time!" 

"But you haven't learned your most important lesson." Bill backed Dipper against the wall, the poker an inch away from digging into his rapidly beating heart. 

Sweat beaded on Dipper's forehead as the fireplace was right next to him. The shelves and walls around him hemmed him in, preventing him from running for an exit. He was cornered like an animal. He pressed flat against the wall behind him, trying to make himself smaller in the useless hope that doing so would protect him. Bill twitched the poker so that it pointed at Dipper's cheek, and Dipper almost choked on his own breath as he feared that Bill would try to gouge his eye out. 

"You're never going to get rid of me," Bill said so quietly Dipper thought he hadn't spoken at all. "You and I are stuck like glue, thanks to that dumb lizard." The tip of the poker barely dug into Dipper's cheek, but he froze at the sting and could feel his blood ready to trickle out. "This apocalypse you see here... you're going to help me bring it to life whether you want to or not." The poker dug in harder, and Dipper stifled a cry of pain. He would not give Bill the satisfaction of seeing him suffer. 

"I-I'll stop you," he said, mustering up a look of defiance. The poker cut down on his cheek, and Dipper couldn't hold back a scream of pain as blood poured from the long scratch on his face. 

Bill's painfully wide grin somehow stretched wider. "Don't get it yet?" He slammed the poker into Dipper's shoulder, and Dipper collapsed to the ground, eyes streaming from the burning pain. Bill knelt down and placed a hand on the injured shoulder, pushing down on it and worsening Dipper's pain. He leaned in and whispered, "You. Don't. Have. A. Choice." But it wasn't Bill that had spoken. Through a haze of blinding pain, Dipper noticed that Other Dipper was back, his eyes normal again. His other self took hold of the poker and pulled it out, eliciting another scream of agony from Dipper. The sweater Mabel had worked so hard on was stained with blood, the red sharply standing out against the light blue yarn. Blood dripped from the tip of the poker, splattering on the matching rug beneath them. A metallic odor filled the air, but neither of the Dippers took notice of it.

Dipper slumped to the ground, shaking and crying from overwhelming pain. Other Dipper watched coldly, unbothered by his pain. He snapped his fingers, and the blazing pain in Dipper's shoulder ceased. Perplexed by the sudden lack of pain in his shoulder, Dipper glanced down and was shocked to see that the blood had disappeared from his sweater. 

"I'd hate to ruin that sweater," Other Dipper said, the cold look in his eyes softening as Dipper ran his fingers over the material to make sure it was clean. His future self reached into his pocket and pulled out the amulet and the tape measurer. Dipper eyed the time machine warily, cautious of Other Dipper. This could be another trap. 

Slowly he stood up and brushed the cut on his cheek lightly. The wound stung as he touched it, and blood trickled down his cheek and dripped onto the carpet below. Dipper wiped his fingers on the carpet and gave Other Dipper a wry glance. 

"Any chance you'll heal my cheek?" 

Other Dipper smirked and shook his head. Dipper sighed in disappointment, not just for the refusal but for how he clearly let Bill boss him around. Unless, of course, he really had lost control of himself to the demon. 

"So... can I go home now?" He hoped future Bill wouldn't react violently again as he didn't seem to like that question. 

Other Dipper rolled his eyes, scowling in irritation. "Yeesh, you still don't- never mind. We'll let Past Bill drill some sense into you." He yanked Dipper off of the floor and in the process almost dislocated his previously wounded shoulder. 

"Hey! Be more careful!" Dipper regretted being so sassy to the most terrifying thing he'd ever seen, but his mouth just wouldn't stop blurting stuff out! 

Other Dipper ignored him and stretched out the tape to the day of the fair. Dipper's heart dropped as he realized that his other self was going to escort him back to his time. He pulled at the tape just as Other Dipper pressed the button to go back. 

When they recovered from the bright flash the time machine emitted, they found themselves standing in an empty clearing surrounded by trees. Other Dipper's face turned red with anger, and he glared at Dipper fiercely; wary of the poker still in his other self's hand, Dipper took a step back and shielded his chest. 

"Why did you interfere, you idiot?" Other Dipper snapped, pointing the poker at him again. "I was taking you home like you asked!" 

"Yeah, kid. Going into the past isn't going to get rid of me," Bill said in Dipper's head. 

The distant sound of thumps cut Dipper off before he could speak. The sounds were steadily getting louder as if they were coming closer, which, Dipper realized very quickly, was the case. A stampede of bulls appeared over the crest of a hill and were charging straight for the two Dippers! Dipper ran down the path of the forest they were in, but Other Dipper had a different idea. 

"What the heck?" Dipper yelled as he landed on several thick bags full of a soft substance. Other Dipper stood across from him, unimpressed as he looked around. They were in a covered wagon, and the cart was full of children and a woman, who stared at the Dippers in confusion. 

"By Trembly!" A man peered into the wagon at the sound of Dipper's yell. "Fertilla, it seems you've given birth to two more chi-" The poker pierced into the man's stomach, and he screamed as blood blossomed across his pale shirt. Dipper exploded.

"DID YOU SERIOUSLY JUST STAB SOMEONE FROM THE PAST?" he shouted at Other Dipper- well, Bill, his eyes were yellow again. 

"No, I threw it at him. Stabbing doesn't involve throwing," Future Bill corrected. 

Dipper was astounded by the lack of foresight Future Bill had. "WHAT IF THAT GUY DIES? YOU'LL HAVE PERMANENTLY MESSED UP THE TIMELINE!" He tackled Bill to the ground and pulled the tape measurer; Bill snarled and grabbed the tape measurer as Dipper pressed the button to send them through time. 

They landed on the shore of the calm Gravity Falls lake, and Bill bit Dipper's arm. 

"Ow! Get off!" Dipper pushed the crazed demon away and attempted to bolt to a safe hiding spot. There was just one problem he overlooked, a very important problem: Bill had magic. Dipper was teleported right back to where he started, and Bill stretched out the tape and pressed the button. As was the pattern by then, Dipper sabotaged the tape by shortening it with a smack on the top of the tape measurer. 

A T-rex's roar startled both of them, and for once neither cared which time they went to. Becoming a dinosaur's meal was not on their to-do lists. Other Dipper's hat had fallen off in their scramble to escape, and it was promptly squashed to a pulp by the T-Rex's foot. 

Their next unintended destination was familiar. The Mystery Shack loomed above them, and Dipper's heart ached with relief to be home until he spotted another him and Mabel confronting a large amalgamation of gnomes. Bill cursed in frustration behind him, and Dipper covered his ears and shot him a glare. Wait. He had the tape. If this was the gnome incident, then he could easily time travel to a week earlier. He ran away from Bill through a couple of bushes; the thorns snagged on his sweater and tore a piece of it off. An enraged Bill appeared in front of him, fire swirling in his hand, and Dipper skidded to a halt, eyes wide. 

"Hand over the time machine, kid." Bill held out the blue fire close to a dying bush, one that would easily catch on fire. "Or I'll send this whole forest up in flames." 

"If you do that, you'll burn me, too," Dipper pointed out, gesturing to the Shack behind them where his past self and Mabel were attacking the gnomes. "Then you won't be able to start Whatevermageddon, cause you'll be dead." 

Trapped by the power of logic, Bill went for the medieval approach to solving a problem: violence. The boy and the demon wrestled on the ground, kicking and scratching at each other like a pair of furious cats. Without taking into account Bill's magic and the amulet, Dipper and Bill were evenly matched in strength due to having the same body. Neither would win the fight, and so it came down to whoever activated the time machine first. Dipper had the advantage of already holding the time machine, and he slammed his hand down on the backwards button. 

Snow crunched under their feet as they continued to fight over the time machine. They were still in front of the Shack, but all its regalia was gone, leaving it to look exactly like a normal cabin. In a cold environment, Dipper was finally able to feel that the tape measurer was getting hotter. He kicked Bill in the knees and pointed at the tape measurer. 

"Uh, Bill, this thing's getting hotter." 

"So?" Both Bills said. He probably should have specified which one he was talking to. 

"I think it's going to break," Dipper said, deciding to ignore the sparks flying from the machine, an obvious sign of it dying. 

"Well that sucks," Bill said. Then he lunged at Dipper, wrapping his hands around the time machine right as the bright flash surrounded them both. A pen lay abandoned where they had been, having fallen out of Dipper's pocket during the struggle. 

The front door of the cabin opened, and the actual Stanford Pines peeked out, convinced he had heard children yelling outside his house. When he saw nothing, he chalked it up to his imagination and closed the door, retreating back into the world of his research. 

When the flash died away, Dipper immediately began panicking as he was completely surrounded by darkness. No light shone from anywhere, and Dipper could see nothing, not even his own hands. Dipper's heart sank as he figured out where he must be. 

"Oh, no, we're in the end times!" he cried in horror. 

Quivering blue light filled the room as Bill lit a fire in his hand again. Now that he could see, it became quite clear that they had not been transported to the end of time. Dipper blushed in embarrassment as he took in a toilet paper roll and a toilet. At least now he understood where that awful smell was coming from. The shaky light of the fire reflected in Other Dipper's eyes, which were back to Dipper's color. The exit to the porta-potty blew open with no warning; Dipper jumped at the sudden explosion, but Other Dipper was unfazed; he must have blown the door open. Being in a cramped room with a creepy version of him unsettled Dipper, and he quickly left the portable restroom, gulping in the fresh, clean outside air like it was water. Fair music blared from speakers, mixing with the chatter of people as they moved to and from the mostly rigged games. He was back in his present. 

"Here's your amulet," Other Dipper said, holding out the cool blue stone. Dipper reached out to take it and hesitated, eyeing Other Dipper suspiciously. Other Dipper didn't so much as blink, just continued to offer the amulet. Fingers curling around the amulet, Dipper's tense shoulders relaxed as some form of protection came back into his possession. He clenched his hand tightly around the stone, ready to use it in case Other Dipper tried anything. 

"What about the tape measurer?" Dipper motioned to the time machine, which had fortunately not exploded after its last use. 

A cruel smile spread across Other Dipper's face as he understood what Dipper was requesting. "Sorry, but we need it to go back to our own time." He leaned in, eyes dark with ill intent. "Unless you want us to destroy this time, too. We'll be happy to oblige." 

"No!" Dipper's veins turned to ice at the malevolent look in his own eyes. 

"Just kidding!" Other Dipper winked and stretched out the tape measurer. "And remember: you're never going to be free." His ominous parting message delivered, he released the tape and disappeared in a flash of bright light. 

Dipper remained motionless for a few seconds, processing the events of the last half hour. 

"He's wrong," he mumbled to empty air. "Mabel and I... We'll banish you, Bill. From my mind and this dimension." 

Bill swiveled to face him, pupil a narrow slit. "Keep telling yourself that, Pine Tree. It won't make it come true." 

"Dipper!" 

Relief spread through his entire body as he heard Mabel's voice, worried but strong, and he turned around as she tackled him into a strong hug. He was home. He hugged her tightly, burying his face in her shoulder as he shook from suppressed emotion. 

"I was so worried when you disappeared without me!" Mabel said. "Did it work? Did you punch past Bill in the face?" 

No, I punched future Bill in the face. "No," he said instead. "I- I didn't make it to the past." 

Mabel's face crumpled in disappointment as she let go. Her eyes landed on the cut on his cheek, and she gasped. 

"Who did that?" she demanded angrily. "What happened?" 

Dipper shuddered as he thought back to his future self and his constant repetition that Dipper would never be free of Bill. He had barely met his future self, and he hated him with a burning passion. But he was determined to prevent that future from happening. Why bother Mabel and give her more reasons to worry about him? Especially when it would all be for nothing. 

He intended to tell her that he cut himself on a tree or a bush, but when he opened his mouth to speak, what came out was, "The time machine exploded when I came back." 

Mabel covered her mouth in horror. "Oh, no! Then- then when did you end up?" 

"Ended up going back to when we fought the gnomes," his mouth continued to say even though Dipper wasn't the one controlling it. "The tape only had one use in it before it blew up, apparently." 

"That's too bad." Mabel crossed her arms and huffed. "Guess we'll need to find another way to punch Bill in the face." 

Dipper scarcely heard her. That... that hadn't been him talking. How... how...?

"Who do you think it was?" Bill laughed, pleased as Dipper's thoughts swirled in terror. 

"You two!" The twins turned to see Blendin Blandin stomping up to them in anger. "Do you have any idea how many rules you've broken? I- I mean, I wasn't there, but I'm sure it was a lot!" He pointed at them accusingly. 

Dipper watched in silence as two muscular men from the future popped into view and captured Blendin, scoffing at his claim that two children were responsible for several time anomalies. The pit in his stomach grew as he realized that he and Other Dipper were responsible for the mess Blendin was getting arrested for. Mabel took him back into the Shack and cleaned his cut, blabbering on and on about playing with Waddles while he went through time. Stan persuaded them to take showers for the first time in a week, and Mabel stayed up a little bit later than usual messing around with Waddles. Dipper stared at the roof blankly, his mind filled with images of a sickly orange sky and yellow slit eyes peering out of his own face. When Mabel finally fell asleep and started snoring, he glanced over at her, his eyes watering. He couldn't let her or Stan or Wendy or Soos or anyone suffer in that horrific future. A tear dripped onto his white sheets as he numbly got out of bed. 

He could not allow Bill to take over his home. He had to permanently get rid of Bill. His heart thumped so hard he thought it might wake Mabel up. His sister slept heavily, though, and did not hear the creak of the attic door as it opened. Dipper quietly walked into the kitchen, his gaze locked on the drawer that held the tool he needed. The metal glinted in the moonlight, sharp and deadly. He selected the thickest one, wishing it to be quick. His hands trembled as he picked it up; he didn't want to do this, but it was for everyone's safety. He was part of the problem, and he had to be erased with Bill to keep his world safe and free. 

"Forgive me, Mabel," he whispered to the still night air. He hadn't written a note, scared that thinking too much about it would alert Bill to his plan. 

The knife tip was cold against his skin. Tears streaked down Dipper's face as he tried to scrape together all his courage and do it. He had to do it. There was no other way. His arms shook then his legs. He closed his eyes, willing his hand to just move already, but it refused. Not because of Bill, though. Because of him. I don't want to die ! But he had to. It was the only way to eradicate Bill. 

All it took was a single motion. It required little to no effort, so why couldn't he do it? Every time he brought the knife close to his throat, he shifted backward, thoughts of his family and what he had always thought his future would be like flashing through his mind. He didn't want to leave them. He didn't want to die like this! 

But he had to stop Bill. He brought the knife closer till the cold edge was pressed against his throat, the most fatal part of the body to cut. It would be instantaneous. There would be no pain. He would not suffer. 

But. He. Couldn't. Do. It. 

The knife remained poised, ready to slice into his flesh and splash his blood onto the kitchen floor, ending him and the demon haunting his mind. Just think of it as killing Bill , he told himself. He's the one dying, not you. One slash, and he'll be gone . 

But he couldn't do it. He just couldn't. 

The knife clattered to the floor, missing his toes by an inch. He wanted to think that it had been Bill, that Bill had taken control and forced his hand to drop it, but that would be a lie. The knife skidded under the kitchen table, though Bill had made his foot kick it. He knew the demon was scared of what he had tried to do, but Bill's fear was drowned out by his own. He rubbed his throat, shivering at the distant memory of metal pressing against it. The knife remained under the table, its metal shiny and unstained. No blood had been spilled. 

He couldn't do it. 

He was a coward, and everyone would perish for it. 

He should try again. It took one motion. One. One motion before he could back out. He should crawl under the table and pick up that knife and cut his throat open. In another universe, he probably did. The knife glinted in the moonlight, begging to be stained with blood. 

He took up the knife, knowing what he did with it would decide the fate of humanity. But he didn't do it. He threw the knife out of the window; the sound of shattering glass was silent for him. He had picked up the knife, but Bill had thrown it. Bill had thought he would do it. Bill was wrong. 

Dipper couldn't do it.

Chapter Text

After an hour of tossing and turning in bed, Dipper finally fell asleep around one o'clock, his sweater thrown onto the ground as he had started sweating from the summer night heat. He opened his eyes to find himself in the expansive gray library, the one he'd dreamt about at the beginning of summer. He wandered aimlessly through the shelves that stretched infinitely high, barely paying attention to his surroundings. Something tight was wrapped around his wrists, but he ignored the tiny amount of pain shooting through his nerves. He didn't want to think too hard about anything, scared that his thoughts would lead to his... Dipper stopped his train of thought before it could go to the thing he didn't wish to think about. 

Like the other times he'd dreamed of that library, he headed toward the center. His bed there was comfortable and soft as a cloud, and burying his face in a fluffy pillow while ignoring reality was all Dipper wanted at the moment. As he approached the center of his mind, he noticed that parts of the library were different from the rest. The change started with the floor shifting from gray to yellow. He caught a glimpse of a triangle shaped shelf and quickened his pace. He paused when he arrived at the door leading to the large room at the center of the library. Last time it had been a plain white door, but now it looked and felt exactly like the attic door in the Shack. He touched the doorknob and finally saw what was constricting his wrists. 

Three golden strings were wound tightly around his wrists, pressing into his skin and turning it blotchy red. Dipper recognized them immediately; the strings were exactly like the one that had appeared during Mabel's shout-fest at Bill. Too drained to feel concerned or fearful of the strings, Dipper opened the door and saw that the center room had changed. It had become the Shack's attic, down to the most minute details. Dipper couldn't help but be impressed; it even got the cobwebs hanging in the rafters right. Sitting on the windowsill in front of the attic's triangular shaped window, Bill filed his nails- or whatever was on the tips of his fingers because he didn't have nails. Dipper shot the triangle a glare and belly flopped onto his bed, burrowing his face into the pillow, which smelled exactly like the one in reality. Dipper had never been so pleased to smell body odor; it reminded him that he was real, that he was lying on that pillow in real life, breathing and alive. 

Bill set the nail file down and floated above Dipper, eye narrowed. "Listen... About what you tried to do tonight..."

"I don't want to talk about it," Dipper mumbled, his voice muffled by the thick pillow. If he could, he would pull his blankets over his head and hide under them, but he was lying on top of them and didn't want to move. 

Bill sat down on the bed right beside Dipper, and the boy braced himself for whatever awful discussion Bill would start. 

"You're not even going to ask about the strings?" Bill tapped the thin threads wrapping Dipper's wrists, and the strings dug into his skin harder, making Dipper wince. 

"Did you know they were there?" he asked, putting in zero effort in talking. His words came out garbled and slow, mostly due to the pillow muffling any sound. 

The triangle managed to grasp some of what he said. "Of course. I made them myself." He chuckled. "They're purely for symbolism, sadly, but you're a puppet and puppets need strings." He snapped his fingers, and Dipper buried his face deeper into his pillow to stifle a cry as the strings sank into his skin and brushed his bone. "Come on, Pine Tree, just one scream, and I'll stop."

"Not all puppets have strings," he muttered almost silently. He knew Bill would get annoyed if he heard, but Dipper couldn't help it. If Bill made him suffer, then he'd make Bill suffer, too. He choked back a scream rising in his throat as the strings on his other wrist tore into his flesh. 

"What did you say?" Bill asked in a fake, calm voice. A red glow leaked through in Dipper's peripheral vision, indicating that Bill had turned red from anger. 

"I said not all puppets have strings," Dipper repeated in a louder yet still muffled tone. "Marionettes have strings, but most puppets don't, if you even classify marionettes and puppets as the same thing." 

The red glow faded from the corner of his vision. "You seem unbothered by me calling you a puppet," Bill noted, though he sounded like he didn't give a deal what Dipper felt. "I thought you'd be kicking and crying, screaming about how you're going to stop my diabolical plans to take over the world."

Before that night, Dipper would have been kicking and crying, determinedly telling Bill that he would stop him. Now he couldn't gather the strength to even feel mad at the demon. He shifted the pillow and himself so that he could stare at Bill while remaining on his side. 

"What's the point?" he asked, his voice monotone and emotionless. Dead. Void of all hope and feeling. "You'll just force me to say something else. Honestly, I'm surprised you aren't making me yell praises for you." 

Bill's voice was pleased as he said, "I can only control you when you're awake... For now." 

For now. Of course. Bill would keep getting stronger and stronger until Dipper was a husk of his former self, unable to resist the demon pulling his strings. Mabel would disapprove of such bleak thoughts, but Dipper had never been much of an optimist. And after tonight, well... he didn't have the strength to forge any fake feelings or feelings at all. He felt like he'd been dunked into a frozen lake, his limbs and nerves numb from freezing cold. 

Pain flared in his wrists as his bones cracked, and Dipper finally let out a weak whimper, one that Bill was able to hear clearly due to the lack of fabric muffling it. 

"Now that's more like it!" Bill said cheerfully. He snapped his fingers, and the strings returned to their normal position as Dipper's wrists reformed themselves. "Wish you had the decency to scream, though. Is it too much to ask for you to give a guy a good ol' scream?" 

Dipper rolled back onto his stomach and pressed his face deep into the pillow's cushiony softness. He could feel something wrapping around his ankle; the thread tickled against his skin and almost sent him into a laughing fit. 

"Can you hand me a blanket?" Dipper asked Bill, not feeling the least bit ashamed of asking a literal demon for a blanket. 

"Get it yourself," Bill predictably refused. 

The bed and the pillow were so comfortable and relaxing... Dipper closed his eyes and wondered if he could sleep in his mind. Wouldn't that be wonderful. The strings around his wrists pressed into his skin again, but he blocked the pain by focusing on the comfort of the pillow. Bill was incensed that Dipper wouldn't react to the pain he was inflicting on him, and the room around them disappeared as Bill sent Dipper into a gruesome nightmare about flaming orange skies and Mabel's torn apart, bloody remains with him holding a knife covered in her blood. Dipper woke up sweating and shaking, immediately looking over at Mabel's bed to make sure she was okay. 

Shivering as Bill's laughter at his reaction rang in his ears, Dipper grabbed his pillow and rushed over to Mabel's bed. His sister, hugging Waddles to her chest, blinked open her eyes sleepily and mumbled, "Wha's the time?" 

"C-can I s-sleep with you?" Dipper asked, aware of tears dripping down his face. The sight of Mabel, whole and unharmed, eased his terror from the nightmare, but he no longer felt safe in his own bed, even if Mabel was right across the room. 

Mabel instantly recognized the problem. As twins, they were used to sharing their beds when one of them had a nightmare or struggled to fall asleep. She nudged Waddles to the farthest part of the bed and scooted over to make room for Dipper. She was asleep within seconds as Dipper nestled under the covers, feeling better already. He fell asleep again and was blessed with a dreamless sleep. 

___

His face was covered in pig drool when he woke up in the morning. Dipper let out a cry of disgust as he felt Waddles' tongue lap his cheek; he shoved the pig away, racing to the bathroom to clean his face. He lathered as much soap as possible onto his face and scrubbed until it was shiny and pink. Running a hand through his hair to check if Waddles had gnawed on it, Dipper gazed at his reflection. His eyebags were still there despite his brief sleep, and he guessed it would take a good couple of nights for them to disappear. If they did. He had perpetual eyebags because he never got enough sleep. It was just his thing. 

His eyes strayed to his wrists, half expecting to see golden strings wrapped tightly around them. The strings only existed in his mind apparently, though he would rather they not exist at all. Bill took his normal place on top of the faucet and laughed at Dipper's thoughts. 

"Look at that, a puppet not appreciating his own strings," he mocked, eye crinkling with laughter. "How ironic." 

Dipper's hand fell to the counter as he sighed, his hair bouncing up with nothing to hold it down anymore. "Stop calling me a puppet." He figured he might as well brush his teeth since he was in the bathroom and picked up his toothpaste. 

"Why not? I already have partial control over you, and it won't be long before that changes." 

Dipper couldn't reply as his mouth was full of toothpaste, so he tried to push Bill off of the faucet. Too late he forgot that Bill's image was a hallucination, and his hand passed harmlessly through Bill's eye. Bill snickered at his failure, and Dipper gave up trying to antagonize him. He rinsed out his mouth and went back into the attic. Mabel was squishing Waddles' cheeks and cooing lovingly to him. She looked up as Dipper entered. 

"You doing okay?" she asked, referring to his nightmare. 

Dipper thought about the question harder than he should. He definitely wasn't okay if he really had gone into the kitchen to... do that. The memory felt surreal, like it hadn't happened and was part of a nightmare. Yet Dipper didn't feel overly sad or angry from yesterday, just... tired. Tired of giving himself false hope. 

"Do... do you still believe that... we have a chance of getting rid of him?" Dipper asked Mabel. He didn't know what he wanted her response to be. He didn't know if he wanted to hope again. 

Mabel's face fell, and she picked at a thread sticking out of her bed nervously. It was a thin pink thread, as thin as the strings Bill put on Dipper's wrists. The ones he made to mock him. 

"I..." Mabel turned her head away, unable to meet Dipper's gaze. "Honestly... is it such a bad thing if he stays?" She was searching for a bright light to their situation, desperate to keep the sun shining and free from the clouds. 

Dipper mindlessly picked at his wrists, remembering the way the strings dug into them far too clearly. Yes, it would be horrible if Bill stayed. He doubted Mabel would be able to recognize him if they let Bill remain in his mind. But what could they do? Journals 2 and 3 mentioned no way to banish Bill from someone's mind, only how to summon him or follow him into the mind. They were only kids; there was no way they'd be able to work out a solution to this. Heck, they shouldn't have to deal with Bill at all! 

"I suppose we'll just have to see," came tumbling out of his mouth. Mabel tensed and stared at him in concern as he sank into his bed, gazing fixedly up at the ceiling. 

"He did something yesterday," Mabel said. It wasn't a question. In fact, she didn't even look surprised, like she had been expecting it. Dipper's heart twisted as he remembered his future self, the thing Bill wished to turn him into. Mabel would never expect him to wind up like that, and he would rather keep his visit to the future to himself. There... there could be a chance... Maybe... 

"Yeah." It was all Dipper could manage. Mabel let go of Waddles and hurried over to her brother, biting her lip in worry. 

"How bad was it? On a scale of one to ten." 

Dipper held up all ten of his fingers. Mabel's eyes filled with tears even though she had no clue what he'd seen, and she pulled him into a hug before he could so much as blink. She didn't ask what happened, and he probably couldn't tell her. Bill was paying close attention to what they said, and Dipper suspected he didn't want Mabel to know about the apocalypse. 

As Mabel's tears soaked into his shirt, the first hint of grief formed behind his eyes. He let the tears fall and hugged Mabel tightly, relishing the comfort her presence brought him. They were two halves of a whole, always together, and Dipper never wanted to let go of his sister because he knew in time, they would never be able to share a moment like this again. 

Right then and there, with them crying into each other's shirts, Dipper vowed to make the most of the precious days he had left loving his sister before Bill robbed him of his most cherished bond forever. Hopefully Mabel could figure out a way to keep Dipper himself before that happened. Because she would know something was wrong if Dipper stopped acting like himself, and he had full confidence that his sister would act if he couldn't. 

"Wishful thinking, Pine Tree." 

After the twins finished crying and hugging, Mabel dragged Dipper down to breakfast. Dipper had no appetite and politely declined a tall plate of Stancakes Stan set before him. Stan narrowed his eyes, looking ready to stare at Dipper menacingly until he ate. Dipper caved in and took one pancake, explaining that he really wasn't hungry. Mabel fed pancakes to Waddles, Stan giving the pig a disgusted look. 

"Do you have to keep that thing inside the house, Mabel?" he asked, wrinkling his nose as Waddles licked the floor where crumbs had fallen. "It's going to get pig germs everywhere!" 

"Wabbles ish aborable!" Mabel said through a mouthful of chewed up pancake. Bits of saliva coated pancake flew from her mouth as she spoke, and Dipper flinched as a wet crumb landed on his cheek. 

"Don't talk with your mouth full, sweetie," Stan scolded, face covered in half-chewed pancake. He had the misfortune of sitting across from Mabel, a choice that resulted in him gaining a beard of saliva and pancake. He pointed at Waddles with his fork. "Why don't we just roast that fat little guy? It'll make a better meal than a pet, that's for sure. What do you think, Dipper?" 

Dipper froze, his fork still in his mouth. Both Stan and Mabel were looking at him expectantly, pressuring him to pick a side. Dipper chewed on his Stancake slowly as he freaked out on the inside. He had the feeling this argument would go badly, and he would rather jump off a cliff than be involved in a squabble over a pig. 

He swallowed and said, "Waddles is Mabel's pet. I'm not going to fry him when she clearly loves him." 

"Aw, but you love him, too!" Mabel jumped in the air triumphantly. 

Stan refused to give up the argument that easily. "C'mon, Dipper, we all know you're just saying that because she's your sister. What do you actually think about that pig?" 

"I'd like to cut him up into bacon," slipped out instead of "He's okay, I guess." Dipper slapped his hands over his mouth, revolted by Bill's audacity to alter a response to a pointless argument. 

Mabel recoiled, hurt flashing in her eyes as she collected Waddles and wrapped her arms around him protectively. Dipper shook his head, trying to convey to Mabel that it hadn't been what he intended to say, but Mabel avoided meeting his eyes. She glared at Stan as their grunkle smacked his hand on the table in victory. 

"See? No one but you wants that dumb animal in the house. Go put it outside, where it belongs!" 

"But he'll die out there!" Mabel cried, cuddling Waddles close. "There are predators that'll snatch him up and-" 

Stan waved a hand dismissively. "It's a wild animal. It will survive a few seconds outdoors." 

Mabel's cheeks burned red with anger, and Dipper quickly cut in before she and Stan could start yelling at each other. "Grunkle Stan, aren't you being a bit harsh?" he interrupted. "I know a pig licking the floor is gross, but he's Mabel's pet! If he dies, she'll be heartbroken! Also-I-wasn't-the-one-who-said-I-wanted-to-make-Waddles-bac-" He tried to rapidly explain "his" response earlier, and his voice cut off at the end as Bill realized what he was doing. 

"No giving me away!" Bill snapped. "Got it?" 

Stan gave a heavy sigh and rested a hand on Dipper's shoulder. "Look, kid, I get it. You love your sister, and you want to protect her. It's the most natural feeling in the world." Dipper boiled in rage as he tried to interrupt Stan and no sound came from his vocal chords. Bill must be restricting his ability to speak entirely. "But we can't win everything in life, and I hate that pig. So. It's gotta go." 

"Ooo, you're mad. Beat him up!" Bill enthused, finally giving Dipper control of his voice. 

Bursting out and beating up Stan was not Dipper's intention. Mabel looked on the verge of tears while she hugged Waddles protectively, and Dipper decided in a split second that the family should abandon the argument before they hurt Mabel even more. 

"So, uh, Grunkle Stan, I have a very important question to ask you," Dipper said, poking at his pancakes nervously. 

Stan was startled out of his lecture, surprised that Dipper hadn't been listening to his speech. "Shoot." 

Dipper's question was one he had been thinking about asking throughout breakfast, and he thought it would make a good distraction and provide a hint for Mabel to realize Bill's insensitive comment had been Bill and not Dipper. "What would you do if you were being bothered by someone who had the power to potentially ruin you and your family's lives?" he asked, glad Bill had deemed the question vague enough.

"Punch 'em in the face," Stan said. "Why?" 

"I, uh, saw a commercial for Gideon's show the other day and was reminded of your feud," Dipper lied. Gideon was the only excuse he could think of. At the other end of the table, Mabel's frown deepened at his question. 

"Oh, yes." Stan cracked his knuckles. "Now that's a kid I'd like to punch in the face. Not that I'm saying I wouldn't punch kids. I'd punch a kid even if you didn't pay me!" 

Concerning statement, but Dipper's job was complete. He thanked Stan for answering and took his plate to the dish washer. When he returned, he found Mabel giving Stan a stony glare and Stan oblivious to the fact that he'd touched a nerve. Dipper ushered Mabel out of her seat and up the stairs, making sure Waddles wasn't left behind. He didn't trust Stan to do anything good to the pig. 

The second the attic door closed, Mabel spun to face him, hands on her hips. 

"Alright, what was that about?" she demanded, hurt raw in her voice. 

Dipper flinched at her tone. Had she not gotten his hint? "I didn't mean that," he said, even though he hadn't been the one to say it. He wished he could tell her the truth, but Bill was more alert now than he'd been during breakfast. "And don't listen to Stan. He didn't really mean it. He wouldn't hurt your feelings like that." 

"But you would," Mabel muttered bitterly. 

Dipper snapped and furiously opened his mouth to explain that it hadn't been him who had said that callous remark, but his voice wouldn't come out again. He glared viciously at Bill, who was doing loop-de-loops in the air. He rubbed his throat, wishing Bill would quit being so nasty. 

"When pigs fly," Bill chirped. Dipper brightened and reached into the pocket for his amulet. "Er- when the planet stops spinning!" Dipper slumped, disappointed to be robbed of his amazing comeback. 

Mabel suddenly gasped in realization. Confused and wondering if she'd been talking without him noticing, Dipper sat down on the floor as Mabel began to pace. 

"Oh my gosh, it was Bill, wasn't it?" 

Dipper perked up and smiled, excited that Bill had been caught. He knew Mabel could do it! He grinned smugly at Bill as the triangle stammered in pure shock, having not expected to be outed so soon. 

"Did he threaten you into saying that?" 

Bill clapped his hands and laughed, "Ha! Got 'em!" 

Dipper groaned and put his head in his hands, lamenting how close she had been to the truth! Oh, well. Maybe next time. He glumly listened as Mabel ranted on how she was going to somehow punch Bill in the face for being a jerk. He doubted Bill would let him punch him in the mindscape, what with all his spiel about puppets. 

Suddenly Dipper noticed a certain blue garment missing from the floor. "Hey, where'd my sweater go?" he asked Mabel, cutting her off mid-rant as he looked around for the sweater she made for him. "I can't see it anywhere." 

"Oh, I washed it along with mine. Since we, you know, wore them for a week without taking them off." She made a face like she hadn't made the conscious decision to wear the same thing the whole time. Dipper was glad she'd finally washed her sweater; she'd been acting like him when it came to their clothes, and he had been worried that Bill had permanently traumatized her. 

"Pretty sure I already did that," Bill said. "Shooting Star and I had a bad first meeting."

"Yeah, they were kind of starting to smell," Dipper said. "And that's coming from me." 

After Mabel changed her clothes and Dipper put on his vest, the twins went back downstairs and were apologized to by Stan. Their grunkle hinted that they should help him take down the fair attractions from the previous day, and the twins shared a look and rushed out the door before Stan could properly order them to help. Once they were a safe distance away from the Shack, Dipper suggested going to the arcade, and Mabel happily agreed. 

"Eat the ghosts! Eat the ghosts!" Mabel chanted as Dipper played Pac-Man. The pink ghost was chasing the yellow character, and Dipper barely managed to dodge it. 

"Actually, the ghosts are trying to eat me," Dipper corrected, collecting an apple and bumping up his score. 

"Break the game and eat them then," Mabel said, shoving her hand into the tiny gap between the arcade cabinet and the wall. Dipper heard her messing with the tangle of wires piled behind the arcade cabinets. 

"Be careful. You might unplug the game," Dipper warned. The screen turned black a second later, and he glared at Mabel as she pulled her hand out from the gap. 

"Um... oops?" Mabel laughed in nervous guilt. 

They plugged Pac-Man back in and messed around with the other arcade games, including one in the back called Fight Fighters. Several hours were spent beating each other up in a game, and Dipper won most of the rounds. Once they were out of money, they went back to the Shack and relaxed, glad that nothing crazy had happened in the arcade. 

___

Mabel slapped two kings on the table and grinned victoriously at Stan, Dipper, and Soos. Waddles sat in a chair next to her, sniffing the cards curiously. The Pines and Soos were playing Poker, using crackers as chips, and Mabel received a large pile of crackers with her two kings. 

"She must be cheating," Bill fumed, glaring at Mabel suspiciously. "Bonk her over the head with something, Pine Tree!" 

"That's not fair!" Stan cried, irritated that he was losing to a 12 year old. "She doesn't even know what we're playing!" 

"Go Fish?" Mabel tilted her head innocently. Dipper rolled his eyes, having the feeling she knew exactly what they were playing. 

The house suddenly shook as loud rock music played from outside. A guitar. The ceiling rattled above them, and Dipper briefly worried that it would collapse onto them. Soos picked at his ear, stupefied by how loud the music was. 

"Yo, I think I've got a radio station in my head," he said, wiping his finger on his shirt. 

"Try blinking to change the channel!" Mabel suggested. 

Yells broke through the blaring of the guitar, and Dipper strained to hear if it was more than one person. It sounded like an angsty teenage boy. He sighed in annoyance as he recognized the voice. 

"Ugh, it's Robbie." He remembered the black haired teen from the convenience store. He was the one who had kept mocking him for being a child. What the heck was he doing at the Shack? 

"Robbie? Isn't he one of Wendy's friends?" Mabel's face scrunched up as she struggled to remember the one time they'd met him. 

"Yeah, the emo one." Dipper pushed his chair away from the table. "I'm going to go see what he wants." 

"You sure?" Stan said, trying and failing at not looking disappointed. "No offense, kid, but you're kind of scrawny. Teenagers don't usually listen to anyone under five feet." 

Dipper paid no attention to Stan and headed straight outside. Robbie was shouting Wendy's name while he shredded on his guitar. Dipper's eye twitched in annoyance. Why was Wendy even friends with that guy? He was so irritating. Robbie ceased playing as Dipper approached, scowling with his arms crossed. 

"Oh, it's you," he said rudely. He gave Dipper the kind of look someone gave a rotten piece of food. Revolting and unwanted. 

"What are you doing here, Robbie?" Dipper asked aggressively. He was far more annoyed than he should be at the teen, but his emotions tended to be stronger if Bill felt the same way he did. In this case, they both disliked Robbie and viewed him as a nuisance. "Wendy's not here, if you want to see her. She's off camping with her family." 

"Um, I knew that," Robbie said, glancing away briefly. Liar. Actually, he seemed nervous, his body twitching like he wanted to get away from Dipper.

"Okay. Leave." Dipper turned to go back into the Shack and yelped as Robbie grabbed the back of his shirt. The teenager lifted him off the ground and forced Dipper to face him; his face was twisted into a scowl. 

"Listen up, kid. I don't know how you got that weird magic jewel or how you knew so much about those ghosts, but there is obviously something crazy about you. Something dangerous." Was that fear in Robbie's eyes? Fear of Dipper? He wanted to laugh at such a crazy idea; him, awkward Dipper, scare a teenager? "So stay away from my girlfriend, weirdo, before you hurt her with your crazy magic." 

"Your girlfriend?" Dipper was confused, but his confusion did not stop him from snaking his fingers into his pocket. They wrapped around the amulet, prepared to act if Robbie did something stupid. "Who the heck would date you? You're, like, the rudest person I've ever met." 

Robbie gritted his teeth in anger and clenched his hand into a fist. Dipper patiently waited for the teen to try to punch him, preemptively activating the amulet. But no punch came his way. 

"Wendy," Robbie spat. "My girlfriend is Wendy." 

"Good for you," Dipper said, not caring in the slightest. His crush on Wendy was dead, burned, and buried. He considered insulting Robbie some more but decided to let him be. He didn't care who Wendy dated so long as she was happy. Even if that guy was Robbie. He mentally shuddered at her strange taste in men. 

Robbie still did not let go of him, meaning he had more to say. Dipper had gotten bored of talking to him, though, and used the amulet to force Robbie's hands to release his shirt. Robbie whimpered in fear as the magic pushed him away from Dipper. Dipper shot Robbie a cold look and walked back to the Shack, whistling to himself. He suspected Bill had influenced his emotions a bit back there, but he honestly couldn't care less. The demon hadn't attempted to make Dipper kill Robbie, much to his relief, and Dipper hoped it would stay that way. He came back to the table to find that Mabel had collected twice as many chips as the amount she had when he'd left. 

"Is the annoying teenager gone?" Stan asked, clearly hoping for an excuse to punch Robbie in the face. 

"Yes, he left." Dipper sat down and picked up his card. He was disgruntled to find that his hand was horrible and would lose him the game. Wait... This wasn't his original hand. "Tell me you guys haven't been robbing my cards." 

Mabel and Soos immediately pointed at Stan, who gasped indignantly. "I did not!" he defended. He smirked and revealed, "I fed them to Waddles." 

Dipper looked Stan in the eye, Bill's anger pulsing through his veins, and said in his most dead-panned voice ever, "You're dead to me, Grunkle Stan."

Chapter Text

Dipper drummed his fingers against the rough pages of Journal 3, his brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what to write. A few sentences had been scratched out, and so far he had only managed to write "Dear Mabel" at the top of the page. He brought the tip of his pen to the paper and began to write then paused. Starting the letter by immediately bringing up Bill's plans seemed like a bad idea. He wanted to ease into the topic and break the news as gently as possible. He scratched out the one word he'd written and groaned in frustration. Ripping out the page, he threw it across the room to join the five other failed attempts at a note. He rewrote "Dear Mabel" and put his pen inside his mouth to chew it. 

"Stop doing that. It's disgusting," Bill said. 

Dipper removed the pen from his mouth and finally had an idea on how to start his letter. 

"'Dear Mabel,'" he read as he wrote. "'I hope you're doing well, and the others, too. I'm sorry I won't be able to support you during the end of the world, which I assume is happening if you're reading this.'" 

He paused in his writing as he heard Stan yell, "The tax collector! You found me!" Suppressing a small laugh, Dipper turned his attention back to his writing. Thank goodness Stan and Mabel were busy watching Ducktective; he didn't know what Bill would make him say if Mabel caught him writing his note. 

"'You're probably wondering why I wrote this letter in the first place since you might have seen the date on this already. I feel you deserve a thorough and unaltered explanation, which I don't think my future self can give you (he's kind of insane).'"

Dipper stopped there, rereading his short introduction ten times. He chewed on his pen again, worried if he was being too direct. If anyone found the letter before the apocalypse, they would know what Bill was planning and try to stop him. Dipper would love to see Bill defeated before he could wreck the world, but he feared Bill would lash out and hurt anyone who tried to stop him. The letter was meant to be read after Bill succeeded, and Dipper intended to keep it that way, though he hoped it would never see the light of day. 

He continued to write, mulling over every word that appeared on the paper. He didn't fully understand how Future Bill controlled Future Dipper, but he did his best to explain what little he had seen. He made sure to add that he'd written the note before Bill completely took over his mind; if the universe granted him luck, that would never happen. Dipper signed off the letter with his signature and added in a postscript to emphasize that he would always love Mabel no matter what Bill did to his mind. 

"Hey, put in that I wish her a slow painful death." Bill tapped the P.S. with his finger. 

Dipper tore the paper out of the journal and neatly folded it in quarters. He slipped the folded letter into an envelope he'd taken from the gift shop's card stand and wrote "to Mabel" on the front of the pale brown envelope. He taped it shut and threw it under his bed; he had yet to find a good hiding spot for the letter. His self-imposed task complete, Dipper tucked the journal into his jacket and ran downstairs to join his sister and grunkle in watching Ducktective.

____

Mabel, for some reason, really wanted to play chess. As they played their thousandth game that day, Dipper wondered if Mabel enjoyed losing. He won every round they played, yet she never got bored or upset that she kept losing. He didn't feel too bad for crushing her every round, though; she kept putting the horses in her sweater pocket, and her lack of respect for the game's rules destroyed any remorse he might have had about crushing her. 

Beside the gift shop counter, Soos stood on a step ladder lining up a row of Stan bobbleheads, who stared down at the room with matching money-hungry grins. Mabel moved a black pawn on the chessboard. 

"Little guy to black space 9," she said, placing the pawn down with a huge smile.

Bill laughed at how clueless Mabel was at chess, and Dipper fought back an eyeroll. "It's a pawn, that's not your color, and stop stealing the tiny horses!" he pointed out in annoyance. 

Mabel patted her sweater pocket full of knights; she looked like a kangaroo with her giant front pocket. "They like it better in here," she said. "Don't you, babies?" She neighed, and it sounded so much like a real horse that Dipper actually thought one had snuck in. 

He focused on the board, smiling triumphantly as he saw that he had Mabel on a check mate. He picked up his pawn sitting next to Mabel's queen and knocked it down. "And check mate." 

"What? Boo!" 

Dipper tallied another win for himself on the chart he and Mabel made to keep track of the rounds they won. Mabel had no wins, and Dipper had 85 wins. 

"Good job, Pine Tree. Not that it's well deserved. Your sister sucks at chess." Bill poked a chess piece. His finger phased through the black painted wood due to not existing. "I'd beat you to a pulp." 

"You play chess?" Dipper asked, pointedly looking at the illusion as Bill stood on the chess board. He had been surprised when Bill had shown respect toward their game and not blocked the board from his view. 

Mabel visibly tensed at Dipper talking to Bill, the knights clinking together in her pocket. Her eyes locked onto the spot he was looking at, but she didn't speak. 

"Occasionally," Bill answered. "It's hard to find a good opponent, what with how I'm an all-knowing demon." 

Mabel stood up from her seat, several knights falling out of her pocket as she pointed at the spot on the chessboard where Bill sat. "I challenge you to a chess duel!" she declared out of nowhere. 

Both Dipper and Bill rolled their eyes. "He'd beat you to a pulp, Mabel. It's not worth it," Dipper said, flapping his hand at Bill to shoo him off the board so he could reset it. 

"Yo, Mabel, can you pass me that brain in the jar? The lady one?" Soos interrupted before Mabel could argue with Dipper. 

"I got it," Dipper said, reaching into his jacket for the amulet. High shelves were no match for him when he could use magic to bring stuff down. 

"Thanks, but Mabel's taller," Soos said. 

"What? No, she's not!" Dipper walked over to Mabel to prove his point. "We're the same height! We've always been!" 

Soos squinted, seeing something in Dipper and Mabel's heights that they clearly couldn't see. "Better check again, dude." He climbed off of the step stool, and Dipper reluctantly took his hat off. Why did they need to do this? There was no way Mabel could have grown before him. 

The handyman pushed Mabel and Dipper back to back and pulled out a measuring tape. He pulled it up against both twins and examined the top of their heads, checking if one was higher than the other. After measuring Dipper, Soos blinked in surprise and stepped back. 

"Yep. She's got exactly one millimeter on you," he informed Dipper with a regretful expression. 

"What?" Dipper scowled as he put his cap back on. How unfair! They'd always been the same height, why did it have to change?

"Don't you see what's happening, Dipper?" Mabel gasped like a revelation from God struck her. "This millimeter is just the beginning. I'm evolving into the superior sibling! Bigger! Stronger!" 

"Like some kind of alpha twin!" Soos suggested, unknowingly fueling a fire called Mabel being annoying. 

"Alpha twin! Alpha twin!" Mabel chanted, pointing at herself. 

"Come on, guys. Nobody uses millimeters. It only makes you taller than me in Canada," Dipper said, trying to disappoint Mabel so she would stop. Her remarks gutted him more than he wanted to admit. 

"You know, Dipper. I've always wanted a little brother. Who knew I already had one!" She laughed, and Dipper glared at her. Great. She was mocking him. 

To make things worse, Stan entered the gift shop, rubbing his eyes to get sleep out of them. "I was awoken by the sound of mockery. Where is it? Show me the object of ridicule!" He excitedly glanced around, and Dipper knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was about to endure the worst insults he'd ever receive. 

"I'm taller than Dipper!" Mabel announced proudly. 

"By one millimeter!" Dipper protested. Bill drifted off the chess board, eye alight with interest. His feelings about the situation were mixed; on one hand he found it amusing, but on the other he felt he was being called short as well due to sharing Dipper's body. 

"Hey, hey. Don't get... short with your sister!" Stan laughed at his totally creative pun, and Dipper stared at him with an unimpressed look. 

"Now, Grunkle Stan, I hope you don't think little of him!" Mabel added with her own terrible pun. Stan laughed heartedly at the pun. 

"Yeah, and-and he's short!" Mabel and Stan laughed like it was the most hilarious joke they'd heard all day. Dipper put his hands on his hips, annoyed and hurt. Bill settled on his shoulder, eye narrowed and blood red. 

Soos, noticing Dipper's expression, cut in. "Dude, maybe you should lay off a tiny bit," he said, worried. 

"Ha! Tiny! Soos is in on it now!" Stan slapped Soos on the back, and he and Mabel laughed again. 

Dipper, done with hearing them mock and laugh at him like he was a joke, left the gift shop. He could feel Bill prodding his thoughts, amplifying his emotions and possibly altering his perception on the severity of their jokes. The triangle floated in front of his face as he went up to the attic to sulk. 

"You know, with my powers, you can grow yourself to any height you want," he said as Dipper paced around the room.

Dipper rubbed his forehead in an attempt to soothe his rising anger at his family. It was starting to give him a headache. "Lemme guess. In order to have your powers, I need to start the apocalypse?" 

"Ding, ding, ding! Fifty points for Pine Tree!" Bill made finger guns, and Dipper glowered at him. Bill coughed and put his hands behind his back. "Chill out, kid. That's not happening any time within the next few weeks." 

Dipper grumbled to himself quietly and looked up at his bookshelf. Journal 3 was perched high above his reach, not that that mattered. He used the amulet to lift the journal off the shelf and into his hands. 

"There's got to be some way to change a person's height," he muttered as he flicked through the pages. He landed on a page about height-altering crystals and read it as Bill yawned in boredom. 

"Just knock some sense into Shooting Star's brain with the amulet. It's not like she can stop you." Dipper winced as Bill shoved the thought of killing her into his brain. 

"I'm not doing that!" Angrily he shut the journal with a snap and stood up. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to solve my problem like a regular human being." 

He followed the directions written in the journal to the crystals, constantly rereading the words to block out the violent thoughts that Bill planted in his brain. A root tripped him, and he fell down a hill to land in front of a group of shimmering blue crystals. 

"Woah." He gazed at them in awe and glanced around the small copse he was in. Tiny deer leapt through the grass, and a small eagle flew under Dipper's nose, its wings creating a breeze as strong as his breath. A growl startled him, and he spotted a small puma crouching on a tree root. He shielded his eyes from the light of the crystals and squinted. "Is that mountain lion tiny in perspective or appearance?" he asked Bill. 

"I'd get the amulet ready just in case it's normal sized," Bill advised. 

For once, Bill had a helpful idea. Ignoring his indignant muttering, Dipper brought out his amulet just as the mountain lion leapt at him, jaws open to bite into his flesh. 

Dipper screamed and instinctively backed away. "Agh! Perspective! Perspective!" He was about to activate the amulet and freeze the puma in midair when the big cat passed through a pink light shining from the crystals. The mountain lion shrank to the size of his finger as it phased through the beam, and Dipper sighed in relief. He laughed as the cat climbed into his shirt and up his back, tickling him. It crawled onto his finger and bit down, but its teeth were too small to pierce his skin. 

"Aw man. I was going to make you tear it in half." Bill pouted, his eye half-closed. Dipper gaped, horrified, at the triangle, who lifted a finger in the air as an idea struck. "Wait! I can make you crush it instead!" 

"Wait, no, don't!" Dipper shut his eyes and looked away as his hand closed around the tiny cat. He fearfully held his breath, waiting for the crunch and snap of bones and a cry of pain. But no such sounds occurred. Daring to risk it, he opened his eyes and saw, to his relief, that the mountain lion had slipped through his grip and was running away. 

He pulled out the pliers he'd taken to cut the crystal and cautiously approached the bright objects, wary of being shrunken or enlarged. He avoided as many tiny animals as he could, guessing that Bill would not hesitate to make him stumble and crush one. The crystals weren't too hard to cut, and soon Dipper had one crystal to tape onto his flashlight. His idea was that the flashlight and the crystal would create a beam that could grow and shrink whatever he pointed it at. He was confident it wouldn't go wrong in any way! He pocketed the crystal and turned to go back to the Shack. 

The flashlight was easy to make; all he had to do was tape it to the glass and voila. Magic flashlight! He tested it out on a chess piece. He flicked the flashlight on, and the pink beam shot out, shrinking a pawn till it was significantly smaller than the rest of the chess pieces. 

"See, the pink beam shrinks things," he explained to Bill as he tested it out. "And then you turn the flashlight and..." He flicked it to its other side, and a blue light replaced the pink one and enlarged the pawn. "It turns blue. This makes it- wait, wait, that's too big!" He scrambled away and shut off the flashlight as the pawn broke through the roof. He shrank the pawn back to its normal size, briefly wondering if anyone had noticed the sound of the roof cracking. 

Bill tapped his bowtie, humming thoughtfully. "Let's shrink your sister!" he suggested. 

"No, I'm making myself taller," Dipper said, aiming the flashlight at himself. 

"You'll still be taller than her if you shrink her." Bill's voice was sly, and Dipper immediately put his guard up. "I'd say she deserves some punishment for her nasty remarks earlier. Don't you think?" 

Dipper's head spun as the words echoed in his head. She deserves it. She shouldn't get away with it. He shook his head vigorously and clamped his hands over his ears. "Shut up!" The flashlight rolled away from him, knocking down several pieces. 

"Relax, Pine Tree. I'm not asking you to harm her. You've seen first hand that shrinking doesn't hurt anything." 

She deserves it, she deserves it . Dipper's hands lowered as his mind filled with a heavy fog. When he moved and grabbed the flashlight, he felt that he was in a dream. He could see what he was doing, but his mind wouldn't process reasons for why he was moving. He hid behind the gift shop door and peeked around the doorframe. Mabel and Soos were talking beside the cashier counter, and Dipper's gaze focused on Mabel. She deserves some punishment for mocking you . His grip tightened on the flashlight, and he aimed it at Mabel, turning to the shrinking side. His hands moved without his command, but he was too stuck in the fog to notice. Soos glanced away from Mabel for a second or two, but a second or two was all Dipper - or Bill- needed. 

Soos raised his eyebrows in surprise when he faced Mabel again. "Mabel! You're shorter!" 

Mabel froze mid-sentence. "What? That's impossible! People can't grow backwards!" 

Sensation finally returned to Dipper's body, and he expected to be horrified by what Bill had done. When the strange calm that had enveloped him earlier disappeared, he began to panic. Why didn't he feel remorseful? He didn't actually think Mabel deserved to be punished- no, he did . He wanted her to know what it was like to be shorter than your twin . Smiling wide, he emerged from behind the door and strolled over to his sister and Soos. 

"What's wrong, Mabel?" he asked after seeing her unhappy and confused expression. "Did something happen?" 

Mabel's expression of unease deepened when she had to look up at Dipper. She didn't have to tilt her head back, but she was short enough to have to flick her eyes up to meet his. 

"Soos! Measure us!" she ordered, turning around so she and Dipper could stand back to back. Dipper happily took off his hat and waited with bated breath for the results. 

"Oh wow." Soos' mouth dropped open. "Mabel, you shrunk by a good two inches!" 

Mabel was crestfallen and spun around. "What? B-but how?" She snatched the measuring tape from Soos and studied it like it was the answer to her problem. She threw it to the ground angrily and snapped, "Someone used magic on me! They-they cast a spell to make me tiny!" 

Dipper sighed and patted her shoulder. "C'mon, Mabel. Don't be so... short tempered." He laughed viciously at his joke and at the angry look Mabel shot him. Have a taste of your own medicine ! he thought with dark pleasure. 

Mabel shoved him. "Don't be mean, Dipper!" 

Dipper's smile dropped from his face, and all the anger Bill had been increasing spilled out. "Oh, so if you mock my height and make jokes about it it's all fine and good, but if I do it I'm being mean?" 

Shock and fear battled in Mabel's eyes as she flinched backward. Dipper's heart lurched as he realized she was looking scared of him. Instantly his anger switched to Bill, and he glared at the triangle innocently hovering by a globe. Mabel noticed and sighed in exasperation. 

"He can't just leave us alone, can't he?" she grumbled. 

"Nope," Dipper said. "Anyway, I have a magic flashlight now."

"Oh, okay." For a few seconds the twins stood there in silence. "Wait, did you shrink me?"

Dipper scrunched his nose up as he struggled to make sense of the hazy moments floating around his brain. "I... guess I did?"

"Well, change me back!" Mabel demanded, outstretching her hand as if commanding Dipper to place the flashlight in her hand. 

Dipper hesitated, the mocking jokes from earlier rising up to remind him why'd he gotten the crystals in the first place. Don't be so short with your sister. I hope you don't think so little of him. He looked between Mabel and the door to outside, unwilling to grow her back to her normal size. He darted for the door right as Mabel tried to tackle him, the flashlight safely tucked in his pocket. Mabel gave chase and ran after him. Annoyed, Dipper flashed the pink light at her and shrunk her head to the size of a golf ball.

"Hey!" Mabel exclaimed, brushing her hands against her tiny little head. Dipper snickered, and Mabel charged at him, knocking the flashlight out of his hands. She quickly regrew her head and aimed the flashlight at Dipper. Dipper grabbed her hands and tried to pry them open, but she flashed the blue  light at him, causing his head to grow to five times its size. 

Dipper stumbled back, his head too large for his body to hold, and crashed into the side of the Mystery Shack. Momentarily stunned, he grasped the steps on the porch and righted himself. He wrestled the flashlight out of Mabel's hands and shrunk his head to its normal size, his neck relaxing in relief from the lack of excess weight. He and Mabel tumbled on the ground, punching and kicking for the flashlight, and their fighting grew so intense the flashlight flew out of their hands and landed a few feet away... in front of Gideon Gleeful? 

Gideon, who was at the Mystery Shack for some reason, bent down and picked up the flashlight. Dipper and Mabel froze, hoping with their fingers crossed that he hadn't seen them fight. 

"Maybe he missed us and doesn't know it's a magic flashlight that can grow and shrink things," Mabel whispered. Dipper mentally groaned as Gideon's eyes lit up with excitement. He was standing directly in front of them, close enough to hear Mabel's very loud whisper. 

"Don't mind if I do!" Gideon turned on the flashlight and aimed the pink beam at Mabel and Dipper. The twins clung to each other, their fight temporarily forgotten, as they shrunk to the size of a mouse. Gideon laughed evilly, and to them the sound shook the ground beneath their feet and was deep and menacing. He placed a jar he held over them, imprisoning them. 

Bill clapped slowly. "Congrats. You're both idiots." 

"Not the time!" Dipper grunted as he rammed his shoulder into the jar. The hard glass bruised his shoulder, and he winced as he rubbed his sore flesh.

Bill raised his metaphorical eyebrow. "Do I really need to remind you about the amulet?" 

"And risk Gideon stealing it back? No way!" Dipper pounded the glass, Mabel joining him shortly. They scratched and clawed at the jar like angry kittens until they wore themselves out and sank to the bottom. Gideon's footsteps thundered beneath them, sending vibrations running through the glass. The twins huddled together, scared the jar might shatter from the sheer force of Gideon's stomps. 

Their grunkle's greatest rival brought them to his room, where he dumped them onto his dresser. Dipper put his hand in his pocket, keeping a firm grip on the amulet in case Gideon tried to steal it. 

"You two." Gideon glared at them menacingly. 

"What are you going to do with us?" Mabel asked, scared. 

"Oh, why Mabel, I wouldn't hurt a hair on your itty bitty head," Gideon cooed, ruffling Mabel's hair with his index finger. "If you agree to be my queen." He was still obsessed over Mabel? Couldn't he take a hint? What a creep. 

"We live in a democracy! And never!" Mabel refused, pushing Gideon's finger off her head. 

"Maybe you'll change your mind... After this!" Gideon picked Mabel up, and Dipper uselessly tried to grab her. 

Mabel struggled against his grip. "No! I will fight you until the day-" She gasped as Gideon held up a bag of gummy koalas. "Gummy koalas!" Gideon dropped her into the bag, and Mabel eagerly picked up a gummy and tore into it. 

"As for you, boy." Gideon' s attention swiveled back to Dipper. 

"I'm older than you," Dipper reminded him angrily. 

Gideon aimed a lamp directly at Dipper; he screwed up his eyes against the blinding light and braced himself for an interrogation. 

"Tell me: how exactly did you come upon this magic item, hmm? Did somebody tell you about it? Did you read about it somewhere?" Gideon questioned, his tone sharp with purpose. 

Dipper's heart almost stopped beating. Had Gideon deduced that he also possessed a journal? Or was he just guessing? He noticed an air horn lying on its side next to him, and he gestured for Gideon to lean in. 

"Lean closer, and I'll tell you," he said quietly. 

Gideon fell for his trick. "Well don't mind if I-" 

Dipper pressed the air horn button when Gideon turned his ear toward him. Gideon shrieked and clutched his ears in pain; Bill cackled maniacally at the kid's pain. 

"Yes, yes! Deafen him, Pine Tree!" 

"I could get sued for that, you know," Dipper pointed out, but Bill's celebration of Gideon's suffering did not cease. Dipper jumped back in fright as Gideon smacked the lamp out of his way. The enraged child lifted his fist, and Bill finally stopped laughing. 

"I could squash you right now!" Gideon yelled furiously. Dipper's grip tightened on the amulet, and he held his breath, waiting for the blow to land. But Gideon took a deep breath, calming himself, and lowered his fist. "Steel yourself, Gideon. You can use them. You can use them ." 

The insane child retrieved a phone and dialed in a number. Dipper glanced at the bag of gummy koalas, where Mabel was still chowing down on the multicolored snack. As Gideon talked into the phone to presumably Stan, Dipper paced on the dresser, coming up with plans. 

"Let's knock him out cold by throwing him into the wall!" Bill suggested enthusiastically. 

Nope. Too violent. The magic might not be strong enough to lift him , Dipper thought. He really, really wanted to pull out the journal and search for a solution, but Gideon would steal it if he caught wind of its presence. I say we wait . 

"Waiting? Pine Tree, I have zero patience." 

Oh, no, you're upset. How sad! Whatever shall we do? Dipper stifled a cry of alarm as Gideon threw the phone at the wall above his head. Pieces and shards of metal and circuitry landed around Dipper, and he covered his head to protect his fragile skull. 

"What am I thinking? I don't need ransom, I have this!" Gideon held up the flashlight triumphantly. 

"Gotta admit, he's got some good evil plans," Bill said, sitting down beside Dipper. "He'll make a useful ally for as long as we need him." 

Dipper slowly turned to look at Bill, who blinked innocently. "You want to work... with Gideon?" he whispered, scandalized by the mere thought of collaborating with Gideon.

"For a little bit. If I recall correctly, he'll summon me at some point to steal a code for a safe," Bill said. 

The crunch of wood interrupted Dipper before he could make a retort. Gideon had crushed his wooden models of Dipper, Mabel, and Stan; the boy was even more of a creep than Dipper thought. The heads of the models collapsed to the ground in front of Dipper and Mabel, and they stared in horror at the imagery of their fake heads lying before them. Bud Gleeful called up that an ice cream truck had arrived, and Gideon gleefully left to get ice cream after leaving his hamster to watch the twins. 

Now that they were alone, Dipper could pull out the amulet. 

"Why didn't you use that earlier?" Mabel asked as he lifted her out of the gummy bag. She had put a green koala head in her pocket, and Dipper restrained a gag as Bill put the image of it bleeding in his mind. 

"Gideon would have stolen it if he saw it," he said, using the amulet to lower themselves to the floor. The carpet threads towered above them, and they felt like ants scurrying through grass. "Man, escaping is so easy with this thing. Imagine if we'd had to climb down with a rope!" He lifted them both in the air and carried them to the door. "We don't even have to walk!" 

"Can we crawl under the door, though?" Mabel requested, eyeing the crack longingly. "I've always wanted to squeeze under impossible gaps!" 

"Eh, sure. I'd rather not push the limits of the amulet," Dipper said, glad for an excuse not to open the doorknob. The large metal knob was the size of a hill to him, and he would rather conserve his energy for carrying him and Mabel across the town to the Shack. 

They crawled under the small gap between the door and the floor; it was actually kind of fun, climbing through a gap no human could ever fit through. Dipper floated them down the stairs and above Gideon's and his parents' heads. Gideon's mouth was covered in pink ice cream, and the twins almost laughed at the silly sight. With the enemy distracted, Dipper landed them beside a dog door and pushed it open with his hands. The twins climbed through and were pushed off their feet by a gust of wind. 

"I hate being tiny," Dipper grumbled as the wind was a light breeze that they wouldn't have felt in their normal size. 

"To the Mystery Shack!" Mabel pointed at the sky. "Onward, Dipper!" 

If a townsperson looked up at the sky, they would see two tiny dots surrounded by a blue glow traveling through the air. Mabel ate her gummy koala head as they floated above the town, and Bill's image had temporarily disappeared because he got sick of having to constantly move it. Dipper scanned the ground below, keeping an eye out for the familiar old roof of the Shack. As trees replaced buildings, Dipper finally saw it and brought him and Mabel to rest on the front porch. 

"Okay, how are we going to get inside?" Dipper tapped his chin as he thought through their options. "Could we break the window?" 

"Property destruction! Yay!" Mabel ran over to a stone twice her size and pushed it. The stone stayed put, and Mabel pouted as she continued to fail at moving it. 

Dipper sighed as he realized their best way of getting in was the door. "I guess I'll open the door and hope I don't over exert myself." He bit down on his lip and focused the magic on the doorknob. To his surprise, it took no effort to turn the knob and swing the door open. He stood frozen with his jaw dropped, shocked that it had been that easy. 

"Whoo-hoo!" Mabel cheered, applauding him proudly. "Let's go warn Stan!" She raced inside, and Dipper blindly followed her, stunned by his accomplishment. If he could open doors ten times his size, then that meant...

"You can throw Gideon into a wall!" Bill said excitedly. 

Dipper facepalmed. "For the last time, we are not throwing people into walls!" 

"Bill wants to throw people into walls?" Mabel walked backwards to show her disapproving frown. 

"Specifically Gideon," Dipper said, hoping his exasperation was clear. 

Mabel's face twisted with conflicting emotions. "But... if it's Gideon we chuck into a wall..."

"Woah, Dipper and Mabel shaped mice!" Soos' voice echoed around them accompanied by the loud thumps of giant footsteps. The twins spun around to see Soos bend down to look at them, Stan's hat perched on his head. 

"Soos! Where's Grunkle Stan?" Mabel shouted at him, her hands cupped around her mouth to increase the volume of her voice. 

"Aw, cool, the mice talk and sound exactly like them!" Soos smiled in amazement.

"No, we actually are Dipper and Mabel!" Dipper called. "Gideon shrunk us with a magic flashlight!" 

"Oh. That doesn't sound fun, dudes," Soos sympathized. 

"We need to see Grunkle Stan. Gideon's going to try and shrink him, too!" Dipper relayed the situation urgently. He and Mabel shifted on their feet impatiently; they were wasting precious time standing around talking. 

"He's in the new mirror maze we just installed," Soos said. "Come here, I'll take you to him." He laid his hands on the ground, and the twins clambered on, taking care not to dig their fingers too hard into Soos' palms. The handyman carried them out of the gift shop and into a room entirely full of mirrors. 

"Woah." The twins gasped, admiring the clear glass of the mirrors and the colorful clean frames that looked like cheap material. "This looks fun! Can we try it out after we regrow ourselves?" Mabel asked, bouncing eagerly. 

"Mr. Pines! Mabel and Dipper need to talk to you!" Soos called to Stan, whose reflection appeared in every mirror. 

"Aha! I knew Gideon was lying when he said he'd taken them prisoner!" Stan pumped his fist in the air in celebration. "So what do they want? Did Mabel break a lamp again?" 

"That was one time!" Mabel squeaked indignantly. "Also we came to warn you that Gideon has a magic flashlight and will shrink you!" 

"He's probably on his way here by now," Dipper said, glancing around for a clock. It had taken him and Mabel what felt like fifteen minutes to fly to the Shack, and Gideon, being far bigger than them, was probably right on their heels. Unless he took longer to eat ice cream than they thought. 

The reflections in the mirror stepped out of sight as Stan walked up the stairs Soos stood on. His eyes immediately traveled down to the twins sitting in Soos' palm, and he screamed, gripping the stairwell tightly to avoid falling and breaking his head open. 

"Kids! Why are you tiny?" he yelled, clutching his chest as his heart almost stopped. "Did that guy from that movie where he shrunk his kids come to life and get you?" 

The twins shook their heads. "Gideon shrunk us with a magic flashlight," Dipper explained. 

"A magic flashlight Dipper made," Mabel added. She pointed accusingly at Dipper. "He even shrunk me a little because he was jealous that I'm taller." 

"My original plan was to enlarge myself," Dipper confessed, crossing his arms defensively. "Blame the shrinking thing on... um... you-know-who." He lowered his voice, acutely aware of Stan watching them argue. "And don't you dare make any puns about this!" he added as Stan opened his mouth. "You mocking me is why this happened in the first place!" 

"STANFORD PINES!" 

The four of them stiffened as Gideon's yell reverberated through the Shack. Soos cupped his hands around the twins protectively, and Stan cracked his knuckles, pleased to have an excuse to punch Gideon in the face. He walked back down to the mirror maze and gestured for Soos to follow. 

"Let's mess with him a bit," he whispered, mischief glowing in his eyes. Soos and the twins gave a thumbs-up, and the family headed into the mirror maze. As they passed by dozens of mirrors, Dipper noticed that the bags under his eyes had gotten darker. He rubbed at his face, self-conscious of the visible signs of little sleep. 

Soon enough Gideon appeared in the doorway, a shadow against the bright afternoon sunshine coming in from outside. Stan put his hands on his hips and laughed mockingly. 

"I've heard you've been pretty busy today, huh, Gideon? What with you messing with my niece and nephew," he said as Gideon descended toward the mirrors. "So what are you trying to get this time? The Shack?" 

"Bingo, old man!" Gideon aimed the flashlight at one of the mirrors. "Hand over the deed to the Shack now or your entire family suffers my wrath!" 

Stan glanced over his shoulder at Dipper and Mabel, who listened to the exchange in grim silence. Soos was chewing on his fingernails nervously. The consequences of failure were too big to ignore; they had to play their cards very carefully. A plan formed in Stan's head at the same time Dipper initiated his own. All he needed was for Stan to distract Gideon, which he was fortunately already doing.

Gideon forgot that mirrors reflect light, and the Pines laughed as the boy had to frantically dodge the reflected pink light that he had mistakenly shone into a mirror. Frustrated and brimming with fury, Gideon wandered deeper into the maze, smashing mirrors with the flashlight. 

"Hey, no breaking the merchandise!" Stan snapped. 

Dipper held his breath as Gideon rounded the corner they were hiding in, face red with anger. His fingers clamped around the amulet, and he focused his gaze on the flashlight Gideon aimed at them. The insane boy was surprised to see Soos there, but he couldn't see Dipper and Mabel due to Soos covering them protectively with his other hand. However, Dipper could peek through the gaps in Soos' fingers, and that limited window of sight was all he needed. Gideon's face paled in shock as the flashlight was forced out of his hands by a blue glow. Recognition sparked in his eyes, quickly followed by more anger. Dipper lifted the flashlight high above everyone's reach, and Gideon jumped into the air desperately in an attempt to retrieve it. The Pines laughed uproariously as Gideon looked like a complete lunatic, sweating and panting for a flashlight. 

"You!" Gideon screamed, pointing aggressively at Stan and Soos, still unaware of the twins in Soos' hands. "Give me back my amulet!" 

"Your what?" Stan's brow furrowed in confusion, and Soos shared an equal look of puzzlement. Neither of them knew about the amulet, and Dipper quickly intervened before Gideon revealed too much. He pushed Gideon into a mirror with the magic and froze him in place, eliciting an animalistic screech from his enemy. He lowered the flashlight till it floated directly in front of Stan, who looked around, bewildered, for a hint of what he was supposed to do with it. 

"Quick! Grow us back!" he said as he pushed Soos' hand shield away from him and Mabel. 

Gideon's eyes widened in rage at the reveal of Dipper and the glowing blue amulet clutched in his hand. "Dipper Pines!" he screamed, trying to break through the hold of the magic. "That's mine! Give it back now! Give it here!" 

"And why would I do that?" The words were Bill's, his tongue and lips moving without Dipper's consent. His head moved by Bill's command, eyes narrowing into a cold look Dipper had seen on his future self. Bill's control faded almost as soon as it had appeared, and Dipper shook off the chill permeating his bones. 

Stan took the flashlight into his hands, still unsure what he was meant to do with it. "Uh... how does this thing work? I don't really, uh, want to shrink you to the size of bacteria."

"Twist the top of the flashlight," Dipper instructed as Soos gently set the twins on the ground. "The blue light is the one that enlarges things. Yeah, it's that side." He kept his eyes firmly on Gideon, who grunted in frustration as his body refused to move. 

"Ah! Okay, got it!" Stan shone the blue light onto the twins until they were back to their original heights. Their original original heights. 

Dipper frowned as he noticed that Mabel still had her extra millimeter. "Why can't Mabel and I be the same height?" he complained. 

"Because that's just how it is, kid," Stan said in a wise voice. "Deal with it." 

Dipper huffed as Mabel grinned. The hallucination of Bill reappeared and pointed at Gideon. 

"Well. Time to take out the trash," Dipper said, lifting Gideon up into the air. "Mabel, would you have the honor of destroying that crystal?" 

Mabel rolled up her sleeves, her grin widening. "Heck yeah!" She ripped the crystal off of the top of the flashlight and stomped on it until it cracked and shattered into dozens of sharp pieces. 

Dipper carried a screaming and whining Gideon out of the Shack, tuning out his threats of revenge and angry muttering. To Bill's satisfaction, Dipper dropped Gideon onto the lawn while the kid was ten feet into the air; he screamed in pain as his ankle twisted when he hit the hard ground. 

"Ow! I won't forget this, boy!" Gideon shouted furiously as he limped away from the Mystery Shack on one leg. "Keep an eye out wherever you go because I will return! I'll get my powers back, mark my words!" 

"What?" Dipper yelled from the porch. He pretended to clean out his ears and shouted, "I can't hear you! Did you have something important to say?" 

Gideon's face turned as red as a tomato. "You will pay for your transgressions, Dipper Pines! You and everyone else in your pathetic family!" He tossed a rock which landed harmlessly five feet from the porch. Dipper smiled sweetly and waved to Gideon as the crazy boy limped down the rocky path to the town. 

"Revenge feels good, doesn't it?" Bill said, his voice full of satisfaction. 

A laugh bubbled out of Dipper, and he leaned against the door, his lungs heaving as he laughed the hardest he ever had in his life. The image of Gideon clutching his ankle in pain replayed over and over again in his head, and he felt nothing but joy at Gideon's pain. The little nuisance deserved the pain he got after trying to kill Dipper . Tears dripped out of Dipper's eyes, and he wiped them away as his laughter finally faded. 

"I've... I've never felt better in my entire life!" He straightened and pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead. He felt really light-headed... but the powerful feeling coursing through his veins ignited a burning hunger for more . He wanted more ; he needed more ! 

"And you'll get it... if you let me take the reins," Bill said persuasively. He didn't need to request permission, he just wanted to be dramatic and ask anyway. 

"I want to kill him!" Dipper laughed, staring at the spot he had dropped Gideon and twisted his ankle. "I want to rip him apart, Bill!" Fear battled with the violent urges filling his mind, and his subconscious struggled against Bill's claws digging into Dipper's mind. 

"You'll get your chance soon, Pine Tree," Bill promised. "Soon..."

Chapter Text

"That was some impressive magic, kid," Stan said the next morning as Dipper tiredly collapsed into his chair at the table. His grunkle was cooking pancakes again, and Dipper cringed in disgust when he caught a glimpse of a small, gray hair sticking out of the batter. Stan flipped the pancake over and fixed a serious look on Dipper, who froze with a glass of orange juice pressed to his lips. "How'd you do it?" 

Dipper sipped his orange juice slowly, stalling for time as he figured out what to say. Would Stan take the amulet if Dipper told him about it? Did he approve of Dipper keeping and using a powerful magic object? The amulet had proven to be extremely useful in tough situations; Dipper couldn't imagine what he and Mabel would have done if they hadn't been able to use the amulet to escape the day before. It would have taken much longer, that was for sure. 

"He uses an amulet," Mabel replied for him as she skipped into the kitchen, Waddles waddling after her. "We stole it from Gideon when he tried to threaten Dipper."

Stan's eyes lit up with pride for them stealing his enemy's possession. "Ooo, did he get mad and throw a tantrum?" he asked eagerly, slapping the fresh pancake onto a stack piled high next to him. "Man, I can almost hear that little brat shrieking about how he's going to inflict vengeance upon us." 

Dipper snorted orange juice as he remembered Gideon backing slowly into the shadows, trying to be as creepy as possible. He coughed as orange juice ran down his windpipe into his lungs. "Yup, he did something like that," he choked out. Mabel slapped him on the back, and all it did was make him choke harder. 

Stan carried the plate of pancakes over to the table and set it down; Mabel clambered onto her chair and began stacking pancakes onto her plate immediately. Dipper put two on his plate and reached for the syrup when Stan held up a hand to stop him. 

"I was doing some thinking last night... and I realized, people would flock to see magic like that." He waved his hand through the air as if to demonstrate lifting something off the ground without touching it. "So. Dipper. Would you be willing to do a magic show? Kinda like Gideon's but better since it was my idea." Stan winked, and Mabel's eyes shone with excitement at the idea. She bobbed up and down in her seat like a bobblehead, nodding along with Stan. 

Dipper stiffened, his fork dropping to the table with a loud clatter. Bill immediately showed his aversion to the idea, and Dipper felt like someone had put him into a meat grinder. 

"N-no thanks," he said, wanting to throw up at the mere idea of being like Gideon. "I'd rather not." 

"What?" Mabel cried in disbelief. In her surprise, she squeezed the syrup bottle too hard, and the sticky amber liquid dumped onto her pile of pancakes, soaking them in seconds. Mabel slammed the bottle down, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. "Why not? It would be fun! You'd be famous!" 

"No! Being famous is exactly what we don't want!" Bill hissed angrily. "Drawing attention could attract unwanted eyes. Like the government."

"It'd make us lots of money, too," Stan said in a persuasive tone. 

Dipper shook his head. "I don't want to. The amulet's just a nice tool to have in certain situations, but that's it. I'm not using it for anything else." He picked up his fork and poked at his food, his appetite gone. 

"You sure?" Stan tried again, looking disappointed at the loss of a great money making idea. 

"I'm sure." Dipper nodded. "I'm not comfortable with performing in front of people. Especially since Gideon does that." 

"Oh! Oh!" Mabel straightened up and shook the table. Dipper hastily removed his glass of orange juice from the table before she could spill it. "I could do it, Grunkle Stan! Dipper's not the only one who can use that amulet!" She grinned widely, showing braces full of pancake crumbs. Dipper conceded that she had a point. 

Bill, seriously offended by the idea of sharing the amulet, snapped, "Those powers are ours, Pine Tree. Don't you dare give them away." 

Dipper raised an eyebrow at that. Feeling a little possessive there, aren't you? he thought. 

"I told you to keep it for a reason." Bill practically burned with anger. "Why would you even consider throwing away such a useful tool?" 

What's wrong with Mabel borrowing it? Dipper questioned. 

"Please, please, please can you let me have it?" Mabel begged, her hands clasped together tightly. "It'll be so much fun! I could make a career out of it! Please, Dipper!" 

"The amulet's not a toy, Sh- Mabel." Dipper's mouth moved to form the words as Bill wished, and he shuddered, disturbed with his body moving without his command. He still hadn't gotten used to it. "And who's to say you won't break it?" 

Mabel's eyes clouded with hurt. "I'd never break it!" she protested. 

What are you doing? Dipper yelled at Bill, fighting with all his strength to overcome his control. 

"Stop it, Pine Tree!" Bill snapped. Anger radiated through Dipper's mind at his insubordination. "I'm doing us a favor!" 

A sharp pain stung Dipper's nose as he forced his way into the driver's seat of his mind. He rubbed at it, feeling the warm sticky liquid seeping from his nostrils. Dipper looked around for a napkin or a tissue and found nothing to stem the flow of blood trickling through his hands. Hopefully Stan and Mabel wouldn't notice his nosebleed. 

But Mabel had sharp eyes, and her hurt evaporated as she sighed in exasperation and worry. "Dipper, your nose is bleeding." 

"I think I knew that already," he snapped and instantly regretted it. He didn't want to make her feel worse after what Bill made him say. 

Mabel pushed her chair away from the table and stood up, her eyes roaming around the kitchen and looking for something... or someone. Dipper inhaled some of his own blood and recoiled at the salty metal taste running down his throat. Gross. What's the nosebleed for? he demanded silently. 

"Punishment," Bill said, voice harsh with anger. "For your stupidity and resistance." 

Mabel quickly came back with a tissue and handed it to Dipper. "Thanks, Mabel," he said, pressing the white sheet to his nose. Dark red swiftly stained the soft tissue, but the pain was gone. He locked eyes with his sister. "I'm sorry about what I said a moment ago. I know you wouldn't break the amulet if you used it."

Suspicion glittered in Mabel's eyes for a second. She relaxed and laughed, brushing off the apology instantly. "Nah, it's fine. I wasn't too insulted. Strange that you're apologizing for it, though. Usually when you say something like that you never apologize." She sat back down and took a large bite of a pancake that was so soaked in syrup Dipper was surprised it hadn't turned into mush yet. 

"So... neither of you are going to do a magic show?" Stan asked, not ready to give up on a good chance to make a fortune. 

"Nope!" the twins chorused in unison. "Jinx!" they said again. "Jinx again!" Still in perfect unison. "Jinx again again!" They would be going on for ages as they were still in unison. 

Stan admitted defeat and ate his breakfast in silence as Dipper and Mabel kept trying to speak faster than the other. He pulled out a newspaper and noticed that Summerween was the next day. The twins would have fun with that. He sipped coffee and smiled as he imagined how much candy those two would collect; twins always collected more candy due to people loving matching costumes. As Dipper and Mabel continued speaking in unison, Stan listened with a fond smile. Their bond was special, something that could never be broken, and Stan hoped they stayed best friends for the rest of their lives. 

___

Dipper fell to the floor, bleeding and screaming in pain as his wrists cracked from the golden strings tied around them. The strings burnt as hot as a fire, and Dipper's skin stretched and scabbed as the heat practically cooked his flesh. He bit his lip to fight back another scream, noticing that his lip didn't split even though he was biting hard enough to cut it. The thought lasted barely a millisecond; a wave of agony spread over him, and he rolled onto his back, twitching like a dying bug. 

Above him, Bill watched with a merciless expression, his eye cold but delighted. The nosebleed had merely been a taste for Dipper's real punishment. Dipper sobbed and curled in on himself as the strings around his right ankle dug into his bone. The stench of blood curdled in the air as the floor was covered in pools of it. None of it was real, but Bill certainly made it feel real. Dipper's clothes were sticky and clung to his skin like they were covered in glue; he was surprised he didn't wake up from the pain blazing through his nervous system. He twitched like a dying spider as Bill floated down and turned Dipper's head to face him. 

"You never learn, do you, Pine Tree?" he asked calmly. The calm was a mask, a façade; Bill was infuriated and desperately wanted to rip Dipper limb from limb until he was nothing but atoms. But he couldn't. Dipper was there to stay, just like him. "Remind me. Who's in control here?" 

Dipper tried to speak, but all that came out was a gurgle; his lungs were full of blood. A trail of it ran down from the corner of his mouth, staining the ground. 

"Answer the question." Bill turned a darker shade of red, a brutal shade of blood-like red. 

"Y-y-you," he choked out, coughing on the blood rising in his throat. Bill is in control. Bill is in control. 

"Correct. Remember that, will you? You wouldn't want to annoy me, not when you're already being so irritating." Bill stepped on one of Dipper's broken wrists and pressed down on the shattered bone. Dipper cried as he was seized by a fresh wave of blinding pain. 

When Dipper awoke from his torturous sleep, it was three in the morning. Shaking and sweating, he grabbed his pillow and blanket and approached Mabel's bed. Seeing her comfortable and sound asleep with a peaceful smile on her face, Dipper felt a pang of jealousy. She didn't have her dreams haunted by a demon who could never leave. She didn't have to fear losing her mind and killing everyone she loved on the will of a monster. Tears streaked down Dipper's face as his trembling hand reached out to wake Mabel up. 

His sister could barely keep her eyes open. "Dippin-Dots?" she mumbled, hazy eyes unable to focus on Dipper. "Why are you awake?" 

"Nightmare." Dipper's voice shook so badly he feared she couldn't understand him. 

Mabel scooted and rolled over, leaving a big enough space for Dipper to sleep. He laid down and massaged his wrists, the pain still sharp in his mind. He sniffled and rubbed his wet eyes, hoping Mabel hadn't heard him sniff. But she was snoring again, fast asleep and unaware of the torture Dipper had been put through. He closed his eyes with a sigh and dreamt of that cell filled with orange light and a monster that Dipper feared he couldn't prevent. That he could never prevent because Bill was in control. And he always would be.

___

Dipper clutched his seat tightly to keep his body still as Stan's car bumped into a handicap sign at the head of the parking space. Stan had shoved him, Mabel, and Soos into the car with promises of fun and hilarity; he still hadn't told Dipper and Mabel why or where they were going. The family got out of the car in front of a small building with a giant bat balloon perched on the roof, its eyes glowing with neon light. 

"Here we are!" Stan said, slamming the car door shut. "The Summerween Superstore!" A large green banner hung across the front of the store, proving Stan's introduction useless. 

"Wait. Summer what?" Dipper didn't get it. 

"Gravity Falls tradition. It's stupid," Bill gave the most unhelpful explanation possible. 

"Summerween! The people of this town love Halloween so much they celebrate it twice a year," Stan explained in much more detail. He pulled a calendar out of his pocket and tapped it; a large red X marked June 22, that day's date. "And wouldn't you know it- it's today!" 

"Do you always carry that calendar in your pocket?" Dipper asked, needing to ask the important question they were all thinking. 

"Yes." 

"Summerween? Something about this feels unnatural," Mabel said, looking uncomfortable with the idea of Halloween in the summer. Halloween was associated with colorful red leaves and pumpkins, not humid sweltering heat and mosquito bites. 

"There's free candy!" Soos said temptingly. Now convinced to be eager for Summerween, the twins followed him and Stan up to the double doors of the store.

Once inside the store, Mabel climbed into a wheelbarrow, and Dipper pushed her through the store as fast as they could. They went straight for the costume aisle as costumes were their specialty. 

"Hey, Bill. If you had to dress up for Summerween, what would you dress up as?" Mabel asked, her hair blowing from the wind the wheelbarrow's speed created. 

"Myself," Bill answered, sitting on top of Mabel's head and glaring at her. "There's no one scarier than me." 

"He'd dress up as himself," Dipper said. He slowed down a tiny bit, uncomfortable with having to speak for Bill. It made him feel more like a puppet, which-

"But you are one." Bill turned to look at him, his eye unblinking. 

Dipper pushed the wheelbarrow faster, trying to outrun his problems and relieve the itch of anxiety under his skin. He and Mabel ended up crashing straight through a pile of watermelons, and the red juice spread across the tiled floor as the melons exploded upon impact. Such fragile watermelons. 

The overhead speakers crackled to life, and an annoyed and tired voice spoke over them. "Someone call the police and get them to eject the Pines family from the store." 

"Not today!" Stan screamed, throwing down a smoke bomb. He ran out the door, and Dipper pushed the wheelbarrow after him, followed by Soos. The Pines ran into the night with their hopefully not stolen goods. 

"You paid for this stuff, right?" Mabel asked from the wheelbarrow. 

"Of course I did!" Stan lied, holding a barrel of fake blood. He grunted as he loaded it into the trunk of the car. Mabel climbed out of the wheelbarrow, and the twins cheered Soos and Stan on as the two men struggled to get the large red metal contraption into the car. Once the wheel barrow was secured in the car, they were on their way back to the Mystery Shack. Stan hit an electrical line on the way out of the parking lot, and a large watermelon inflatable sank to the ground as it was crushed under the weight of pounds of metal and wires collapsing on it. 

As they prepped the Shack for incoming trick or treaters and covered the outside in skulls and spooky Halloween decorations, a hollow feeling began to grow inside Dipper's chest. The hollowness grew worse as he and Mabel ripped open bags of candy and poured them into a pink bowl. He picked at the edge of the bowl, confused as to why he felt like someone had ripped away a huge part of his life. Halloween was his and Mabel's favorite holiday; why wasn't he happy or excited? He stared at the bowl quickly filling up with candy, the hollow feeling increasing to a soft but harsh pain in his heart. 

Mabel paused in dumping a bag full of chocolate when she noticed Dipper frowning at the candy. "Something wrong, bro-bro?" Her expression darkened. "Is it-" 

"No," Dipper cut her off. He fiddled with a piece of candy, tearing it open and examining the dull color of the treat. "I... I don't know what's wrong. I'm just..." He fell quiet, unable to put into words exactly what he was feeling. He popped the candy into his mouth and gagged in disgust. "Ew. What is this stuff?" 

Mabel picked up the wrapper and squinted at it. "Sand Pop. I've never heard of that." She peered into the bowl and wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, this is all loser candy!" 

"Perfect for her then," Bill muttered. At the sound of his voice, Dipper finally realized why he felt like he had lost something important. The world tilted on its axis for a few moments, and Dipper pressed a hand against the carpet to hold himself up. When his vision had cleared, he saw Mabel pouring more candy into the bucket. 

"Hey, I'm-" Dipper took a deep breath to stop his voice from trembling. "We should go change into our costumes. We'll, uh, get more candy if we leave earlier." 

"Oh! You're right!" Mabel bounced up and dusted off her skirt. "I'm going to be the sweetest jelly in the world!" She skipped to the stairs, giving Dipper a few precious seconds to recuperate himself.  He picked up the candy bowl and tossed the loser candy into the trash can outside; trick or treaters would never want such gross offerings. 

Once he was finished disposing of the sour garbage, he headed upstairs and found that Mabel had changed into her costume in the ten seconds he wasn't around. She was wearing her strawberry jelly jar costume and twirled around to let Dipper see the whole costume. 

"What do you think, bro? Will the people drop to their knees and sacrifice all their candy to us?" she asked, posing with a hand on the back of her head and her hip. 

Dipper trailed his fingers across the peanut butter jar costume he was supposed to wear, fighting back the urge to cry. He'd cried enough this summer; Bill hadn't even done anything horrific and traumatizing today. He slipped off his jacket and replaced it with the costume. The costume that might be his last one. 

"Mabel..." Dipper sat down on his bed and watched his shoes scuff the worn floorboards of the attic. He didn't think he could hold back the tears if Mabel started crying. "I..." His voice cracked as sorrow swelled in his throat. 

Mabel returned to her normal posture, her eyes sharp with curiosity. She took a seat on the floor and motioned for Dipper to continue speaking, probably thinking he'd come up with a plan on how to gain the most candy out of the town. Her face was alight with excitement for the night, and Dipper felt a pang of guilt for destroying it. But he had to say it. She had to know so they could enjoy Summerween to its fullest capacity. 

"I... This might be the... the last time we can go trick or treating," he forced out, tears threatening to spill with each word. He drew circles in the wooden floor, stirring up dust that had somehow not been disturbed by his and Mabel activities. 

He could hear Mabel's dismay as she asked, "Huh? What makes you think that? We're only 12, we still have a couple of years left!" She stood up, confused and anxious for an answer. 

Because the world might not exist for them to live in. There was no way Bill would let him reveal his plans, though, so Dipper said, "Call it a hunch. I'm probably not going to be able to go with you this Halloween. Or the next. Or the rest for all eternity." He shuddered at the thought of spending the rest of his life stuck obeying Bill's every order. 

"Am I wrong to assume Bill has something to do with this?" Mabel guessed, coming to sit down beside Dipper. He nodded, and she slapped her forehead out of sheer exasperation. "Then I guess we'll just have to make Summerween the best holiday ever!" She tugged Dipper to his feet, refusing to let him mope on their favorite holiday. 

Dipper smiled, the hollow feeling in his chest shrinking a bit. He was glad to spend time with his sister, and he eagerly followed her downstairs to wait at the door for her friends, Candy and Grenda. He wondered if Bill celebrated holidays; Halloween seemed like one he would like. 

"Who needs holidays when every day's a party?" Bill scoffed, laughing at the idea of celebrating anything other than himself. 

The doorbell rang, and Mabel opened it to let in two girls, one very small and one very large. "Dipper, these are Candy and Grenda!" Mabel introduced, gesturing to each girl in turn. "Candy, Grenda, this is Dipper, my twin brother!"

"Nice costumes," Dipper said. Candy wore her namesake, and Grenda was dressed as a witch. Classic Halloween themed costumes. 

"Aww, you're matching!" Candy cooed as Mabel stood beside Dipper. Grenda joined her in making embarrassing noises as Mabel wrapped an arm around Dipper's shoulders. 

"Peanut butter and jelly. A classic combination! We're going to bleed this town dry of candy!" Mabel proclaimed proudly. 

"And maybe actual blood!" Dipper clamped his hands over his mouth as Bill's words forced their way through his lips. What the heck? he screamed at the triangle floating innocently to his left. He flushed as Mabel and her friends gave him weird looks, clearly questioning if he meant it. He’d sounded pretty excited. Curse you, Bill!

"That was a joke." Dipper quickly started damage control. "Cause it's Summerween. And blood is a creepy thing. So like. I thought it would be fitting to make a joke about murder. So yeah. Definitely didn't mean that." He opened the door, ready to leave and forget about the awkward situation Bill landed him in. He turned to see a tall, ominous figure looming over the doorway. 

"Trick or treat," said the figure in a deep, hoarse voice. It donned a large black scarecrow hat and wore patchwork clothing; the small yellow mask covering its face peered at Dipper in a way that was nowhere near friendly. 

Dipper immediately shut the door. 

"Who was that?" Mabel asked, straining to see through the window into the scarcely illuminated porch. "He sounded freaky. We should give him extra candy for an A plus effort!" 

The figure knocked softly on the door, and Dipper gulped nervously. He felt something off about that person, something unnatural. Would it be a threat or would it leave him and Mabel alone? The knocking came again, more insistent than before. The figure was getting impatient. If it was a supernatural entity, he might as well satisfy it as to not get on its bad side. Before he could grab the candy bowl, Mabel opened the door and smiled up at the figure. 

"Hello there, creepy scarecrow man!" she greeted the figure cheerfully. She held up the candy bowl, and Dipper had a mini mental breakdown trying to understand when the heck she had picked it up. "Take all the candy in this bowl! You deserve it for being so gosh darn terrifying!" 

The figure was taken aback by Mabel's bluntness. "What? You're not going to yell at me? Tell me to get lost? Ignore me?" 

Mabel's face wrinkled in confusion, but she continued to hold out the candy bowl. "Why would I do that? Trick or treaters mustn't be ignored, it's Summerween!" 

If the mask wasn't covering the figure's face, they would have seen his jaw drop open in shock. The trickster struggled to piece together Mabel's intentions; he couldn't tell if she was being genuine or sly. He had seen the boy twin toss out his kind like worthless insects, yet the girl twin was offering him candy and complimenting him on his excellent disguise. No, no, he couldn't let himself be fooled. The girl twin hadn't attempted to stop her brother from throwing away the so-called loser candy; she was just as guilty as him. He straightened his spine with an echoing crack and pointed dramatically at the girl. 

"I decline your feeble attempts to placate me. All you have gained is my wrathful attention, and you will all be punished!" A gust of wind blew through the porch, nearly knocking the candy bowl from Mabel's hands. Dipper stepped protectively in front of his sister, and Candy and Grenda peeked nervously from behind the twins. "Collect five hundred pieces of candy before the last Jack o'melon goes out. If not... you will perish." The figure lifted a melon carved like a jack o'lantern from the ground and blew onto the candle sitting peacefully inside; the flame extinguished, leaving nothing but a thin trail of smoke in its wake. "Good luck, children." The kids flinched back as the figure crawled onto the roof like a spider. The second he was gone, Dipper turned to look at Mabel. 

"I think the universe hates us and refuses to let us enjoy ourselves," he said. He was furious at the Summerween monster for cursing him and Mabel on what was most likely their last night trick or treating. He assumed Bill found the situation hilarious, but the demon was only mildly bothered by the curse. 

Soos suddenly walked up behind them and announced, "Yo, dudes, I heard a creepy voice declare death on you. Can I join you on your quest of life and death?" Funnily enough, he wore a cape like a superhero, though Dipper doubted he could single handedly save them. 

Mabel cleared her throat and hurried to a large rock sitting a few feet away from the porch. Sensing that she was going to make a dramatic speech, Dipper, her friends, and Soos followed, crowding around the rock like ducklings waddling after their mother. 

"Listen up people! Now some might say being cursed by a bloodthirsty monster is a bad thing," she began, striking a confident pose. The empowering effect she was trying to impose was lost as she looked very silly in her jelly costume. "But that monster messed with the wrong crew! With Candy's spirit, Grenda's strength, Dipper's brains, and... Soos here, we'll get 500 pieces of candy and have fun doing it, too, even if it takes all night!" 

The kids and Soos applauded and cheered as Mabel slid off the rock. Fueled with confidence and determination, they retrieved the wheelbarrow they'd "bought" from the store and ran full speed into town. With the twins' matching costumes, collecting 500 pieces of candy would be a piece of cake. Or candy in this specific situation. They arrived at Lazy Susan's house first, and Dipper and Mabel got into position to use their twin magic. 

The moment Susan opened her door after they rang the bell, the twins began tap dancing. Susan's heart and soul were filled with fulfillment as she watched the most adorable performance to ever grace her life. She put a hand over heart, moved beyond reality as the twins finished with the cutest pose they could pull. 

"Aren't you two just the cutest?" she sniffed, dumping her entire stock of candy into Mabel and Dipper's candy bags. "Here, take it all, you sweetums." 

Success! Dipper and Mabel shared a triumphant grin and high fived. They were met with three stunned and impressed looks from Candy, Grenda, and Soos. 

"Wow. Twin power is so strong," Candy said in awe as Mabel dumped the candy into the wheelbarrow. 

Mabel soaked in the amazement like a sponge while Dipper counted the candy. "Obviously. Dipper and I have been doing this our entire lives. We're experts at utilizing our twinliness." 

"Twinliness is not a word, Mabel," Dipper said, finishing up the count. "Alright. We've got thirty pieces of candy at the moment. Only 470 to go." 

"Easy peasy lemon squeezy." Mabel gripped the handles of the wheelbarrow and flew down the street, Dipper matching her step for step. Candy, Grenda, and Soos were warmed by the sight of their bond, and Soos snapped a quick picture with his phone before running after them. 

Each house they visited was quick to succumb to the power of twins dressed in matching costumes. By themselves, Dipper and Mabel were pretty adorable, but dressed as peanut butter and jelly their cuteness increased tenfold. The classic combination won over the hearts of everyone in town, and soon the group had only one more piece of candy to collect. By that time, people had begun to blow out their jack o'melons, and the twins felt the pressure building. If they didn't collect enough candy, all five of them would die. 

Dipper skidded to a halt as the realization hit him while they were running to the next house. Mabel stopped as well, turning to look at him in concern.

"What's the matter, Dippingsauce?" she asked as soon as she saw his considerably pale face. 

"Nothing. Just realized our lives are seriously on the line if we don't get all that candy," he replied, feeling sick suddenly. He was surprised Bill had been silent the whole time, but it seemed Bill developed common sense whenever his life was in danger and understood that Dipper needed to concentrate. If only he was like that all the time. 

"Oh! There's the last candy!" Grenda shouted, pointing at a house down the street. The group sped toward it like a pack of infuriated rhinos and practically swarmed the poor person coming out to greet them. 

But they had done it. They stared at the wheelbarrow filled to the brim with a variety of brightly colored wrappers. Their task complete, the group sank to the ground with sighs of relief. Mabel handed Dipper an extra piece they had gotten, and he munched on it appreciatively, savoring the sweet gooey chocolate. At least some good candy existed in the town. He'd been worried Gravity Falls only stocked bad brands. 

Flickering lights extinguished across the town as the Jack o' lanterns were put out. The group guarded their wheelbarrow of candy in case something unexpected happened as they waited for the trickster to come collect his order. The street lights buzzed and shorted out for a brief moment; when they came back on, the trickster stood in the middle of the street.

"Knock knock." He tapped the air with his fist like he was knocking on a door. Dipper pushed the wheelbarrow toward the monster, the others standing guard on the sides. 

"We got your candy, monster," Dipper said, halting the wheelbarrow in front of the trickster. "Now leave us alone!" 

The trickster tapped his chin thoughtfully. "You collected all 500 candies?" he questioned. Such a shame. He had been looking forward to munching on their bones.

"Yup. If you don't believe us, count them yourself." Dipper stepped back, leaving the candy to the trickster. 

Right before the trickster could examine the candy, somebody whistled excitedly, and rushed footsteps hurried in their direction. Their hearts collectively sinking, the group swiveled to see McGucket charging straight for the wheelbarrow, licking his lips hungrily.

"Well that's not good," Bill stated the obvious. 

"No!" they shouted in unison, darting toward the wheelbarrow in a desperate attempt to block the crazy old man from stealing their offering. 

But McGucket was far more agile than they anticipated. Giving a joyous whoop, he leaped over their heads with the grace of a deer with a broken leg. He barrel-dived into the wheelbarrow and shoveled the candy into his mouth, wrappers and all. Mabel, Candy, Grenda, and Soos tugged at the kook as hard as they could, but McGucket clung to the edge of the wheelbarrow, shrieking like a caged animal. The trickster observed the struggle in silence, patiently waiting for them to finish so he could eat them all, even McGucket. 

Dipper stared at the writhing McGucket, his heart beating hard and fast in his ears. His fingers had gone numb, and ice chilled his veins and muscles into fragile blocks; one more push and he'd shatter into oblivion. He stared at McGucket, the one who had sentenced not just him but Mabel, Candy, Grenda, and Soos to death. He stared at the old man, and he remembered the incident with the Gobblewonker. McGucket had almost killed him and Mabel then, and he'd certainly killed them now. He remembered Bill saying that he should kill McGucket and refusing to oblige.

As his sister, her friends, and Soos tugged McGucket out of the barrel, his mouth full of candy, the trickster watching in silence, Dipper regretted ever sparing Fiddleford McGucket. 

"But you can right that wrong here," Bill whispered in his mind. "You can make him pay." 

Dipper stared at McGucket and felt a bloodthirsty grin spread across his face. "I can make him suffer," he mumbled, unaware that he was speaking out loud. His gaze flicked to the trickster, who was patiently waiting for McGucket to be pulled out of the wheelbarrow again. He had climbed back inside, much to the others' frustration. "I'll kill the trickster, too." 

Bill applauded his idea, giving his approval for more murder. "Excellent idea, Pine Tree. If you're going to die, might as well take the executioner with you!" 

The amulet was in his pocket, right below the peanut butter costume he wore. He ripped the costume off and tossed it aside at Bill's persuasion. 

"You can't murder people in that, it's too silly!" Bill said. He'd been wanting to call the costume silly all night and couldn't take it anymore. 

Dipper tied the amulet around his neck and faced the others again, his eyes locked on his target. With his costume off, he was in his regular shirt and shorts, and he doubted anyone would find him intimidating despite the lack of a peanut around his head. The others had pinned McGucket to the ground, preventing him from darting back into the wheelbarrow. Dipper took a look inside and was infuriated to find that McGucket had eaten most of their collection. He was going to ensure McGucket died painfully. 

"What a shame," the trickster said, not sounding upset at all. He shook his head in mock disappointment and gazed around at the group. "I'm afraid I can't accept this as fulfillment of my requirements." 

"But we got it all!" Mabel protested. She was holding down McGucket's head; if only she were strangling him. "Please, you saw our original amount! Surely you can count it? We worked so hard, please!" 

"He's not going to accept that, Mabel," Dipper interrupted the trickster before he could speak. The trickster glared at him, offended. A strange sense of calm wove around Dipper even though the trickster might kill him soon, and he glared at the trickster with eyes full of bloodlust. "He's an unfair, horrible, evil monster, and he thinks he can mess with us like we're his toys. Am I right or am I wrong?" he challenged the monster. 

The trickster's body convulsed with rage. "Silence, child! You know nothing of what I have been through! You will die for your insolence!" 

"Oh, blah, blah, blah, like I care." Dipper rolled his eyes and touched the amulet. The trickster growled and expanded, the fabric of his clothing ripping loudly at the seams. Dipper's eyes widened, and he backed away as the large gray mass hiding behind the disguise towered over him. "Okay, I probably shouldn't have said that." 

"Run!" Mabel screamed. 

The group let go of McGucket and dashed down the street; to Dipper's disappointment, McGucket ran after them and not toward the giant spider-like blob chasing them. To slow down their pursuer, Dipper knocked over cars and lamp posts to block the path of the trickster; the trickster leapt over them with ease, but it let the group gain enough ground to outpace it. 

Running all the way to the Mystery Shack would take more time than they had, so Dipper kept a sharp eye out for any potential hiding places. He spotted the perfect choice and chuckled at the irony. 

"What's so funny?" Grenda asked, confused as to why Dipper was laughing when they were being chased by a hungry monster. 

"Let's hide in the superstore!" he yelled, gesturing to the store. The others nodded and followed him through the dark and empty parking lot. Dipper had thrown a truck at the trickster a few moments before, and he paused at the entrance to the parking lot, glancing around for a sign of his prey. He caught sight of Soos' shoe disappearing into the store and lumbered in its direction. 

Dipper and Mabel huddled in the bottom row of a shelf, disguised as skeletons wearing black cloaks. Soos stood beside the aisle, pretending to be a lifeless statue of a gorilla. Candy and Grenda hid in a clothing rack, no sign of their bodies visible amongst the clothes. McGucket sat on top of the shelves, somehow accurately imitating a stuffed monkey. They collectively held their breaths as the trickster slowly crawled through the store, carefully searching. As he passed Soos and the twins, they realized that staying still and holding their breath was much harder than the movies made it seem. The trickster paused, and the urge to breathe became stronger. But they had to hold on. The trickster continued past their aisle; as soon as it disappeared around the corner, they moved to the next one. The coast was clear to the exit, and the group quietly scurried to the door, Dipper regretting not taking the chance to rip the monster in half when he had it. 

But before they could leave, a shelf holding electronic skeleton heads drew Soos to it like a magnet. His hand hovered over a head, inches away from pressing it. The group froze when they noticed the lack of Soos and shook their heads furiously at him, trying to persuade him to leave it alone. 

"Sorry, dudes, but this thing is too hilarious!" Soos apologized, lifting his hand higher. The group held in a gasp as Soos pressed the skeleton head down. No lights came on, no silly sounds emitted from the head. The group relaxed. 

"It was out of batteries," Mabel sighed in relief. Dipper was thankful for the lack of batteries in the toy; he'd considered adding Soos to his kill list. 

Their relief quickly turned to horror, however, as Soos fiddled with a pack of sweet, succulent, double A batteries. "Soos, you idiot, stop!" Dipper whispered fiercely. It was a lost cause. Soos inserted the batteries and pressed the head. 

"No matter the score, I'm always aHEAD! Nyeh heh heh! Nyeh heh heh!" The skeleton head's irritating voice echoed around the room, and the world seemed to freeze. Soos laughed at the joke, and the group stood frozen in terror (or in Dipper's case murderous rage and McGucket's obliviousness) as the trickster slunk around the aisles. 

"Uh oh," was the last thing Soos got a chance to say before the trickster swallowed him in one bite. That was the last straw for Dipper. 

The trickster stiffened in surprise as the blue glow of the amulet's magic encompassed him. "What is this?" he growled angrily. His limbs twitched as he failed to move. "Magic? Ho- aaaaaagh!" The trickster screamed in pain as his body twisted and tore in half in accordance with Dipper's will. His bottom half collapsed beside the clothes rack Candy and Grenda had been hiding in, and Soos rolled out, perplexed. The trickster moaned in agony as his top half was dragged to Dipper's feet, pieces of candy trailing out from his body. 

Dipper crouched down and tore the mask from the trickster's face. His eyebrows shot up in surprise at the sight of candy eyes and a candy mouth meeting his gaze. The trickster being a candy monster meant nothing, of course. He would still suffer Dipper and Bill's anger. Dipper did not question why he had included Bill in that statement. 

"Any last words?" Dipper asked the trickster coldly. The trickster cried in pain as his arm broke off from his body. Behind Dipper, Mabel and her friends watched in silence, trying to puzzle out what Dipper was doing. 

"I... I only wanted loser candy to be appreciated," the trickster cried in a choked sob. "Selfish children like you, who threw me into the dump, must pay! That's all I was doing! I swear!" Candy corn tears flew from his eyes as he wept.

Dipper gave the trickster a soft sympathetic smile. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he said soothingly. "I promise, you won't have to suffer the mistreatment of loser candy anymore." 

The trickster's mouth formed into a hopeful smile. "Really?" he said, daring to meet Dipper's gaze. 

"I mean every word," Dipper promised. "You won't suffer any longer." 

The trickster's hope grew, and he propped himself up with his hands. A chance at peace? Was he really going to have his purpose fulfilled with the promise of a young boy? Did he dare hope for long? Mabel and her friends smiled, happy that the problem with the trickster seemed to be resolved. 

Except Dipper hadn't finished. 

"Because you'll be dead." 

Like the Jack o'melons across town, the trickster's hope was extinguished with a blow. "Wait, what?" He panicked as the blue glow surrounded him. A pressure built up inside his body from the magic, and the trickster began clawing at the ground, screaming pleas. "No, no, no! Wait, I'm sorry! I won't attack you again, I swear! No!" 

His pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears as Bill focused Dipper's thoughts on one thing and one thing only: killing the trickster. Bits of the trickster exploded at random as Dipper squeezed the life out of the candy monster. His arms fell to pieces first, and then his torso slowly collapsed under the pressure of the magic. The trickster continued to scream and beg, but the sole thing Dipper could hear was Bill's heartless and cruel laughter. It rang through his mind and shivered down every nerve in Dipper's body until he, too, wanted to laugh at the torture happening before him. 

The screams cut off with a choke as the mouth of the trickster broke into crumbs, scattering across the floor and Dipper's shoes. He watched without a scrap of mercy as the trickster's head crumbled into powder before him. All that was left of the trickster was his lower half and the dusty remnants of his upper body. 

Dipper didn't realize he had been laughing until he was breathless and gasping for air. Or had it been Bill, using Dipper's vocal chords to express his cruel amusement at the trickster's agony? The store was quiet, nobody daring to speak a word after the dark display that would forever haunt their nightmares. Dipper slowly turned to face Mabel, Candy, Grenda, and McGucket; the girls' faces were drained of color but McGucket had yet to realize someone had been brutally murdered in front of them. Dipper walked up to McGucket, unaware of Candy and Grenda flinching away. Mabel simply stared, her mouth slightly open. 

Dipper stepped onto McGucket's floor length beard and pulled the man to the ground. His chin hit the tile with enough force to bruise it, but McGucket only winced. 

"What'd you go and do that for?" he asked Dipper indignantly. 

Vicious rage coursed through Dipper, and his blood boiled like lava. "You almost got us killed, you foolish old man," he practically snarled, hand gripping his amulet so tightly it was a shock it didn't shatter. "Do you ever think before you act?" 

"No siree! I'm Old Man McGucket!" He clapped his hands and performed a short jig. The act served to further anger Dipper. How could the kooky old man continue to act like he'd done nothing wrong? Had he truly lost his mind?

"Pretty much," Bill said, eagerly encouraging Dipper to hate the old man. "That doesn't give him the right to be an idiot, though." 

McGucket yelped in pain as Dipper slammed his foot down on his fingers. The crack of bone echoed through the room, but Dipper had a worse fate in store for the man. A few broken fingers were not good enough punishment for him. McGucket glanced around in confusion as the magic blue glow surrounded his arm. Dipper imagined his bones cracking and splintering, his arm twisting into a shape unimaginable by humans, and the amulet responded in kind. McGucket wailed as his arm bent and snapped like a twig. One of his bones even cut through the skin, blood dripping from the wound and scattering the floor with scarlet drops. McGucket cast a fearful look at Dipper as he took another step toward the infuriating lunatic. 

A hand grabbed his arm and yanked him back right as Dipper summoned the magic around McGucket's other arm. Furious at the interruption, he spun around, ready to shove whoever had stopped him away. He stilled at the sight of the person behind him. 

Mabel's eyes were glistening with unshed tears, and she shook as she kept a firm hold on Dipper's arm. She glared at him challengingly as if daring him to hit his own sister, but Dipper would rather die than hurt his sister. Without a word, Mabel led him out of the store, sparing a single worried glance at the crazy old man who had nearly gotten them eaten. 

Once they had exited the building and were in the ominous abandoned parking lot, Mabel took a deep breath and asked, "What the heck was that, Dipper?" 

Dipper glared at her incredulously, shocked that she was taking the enemy's side and not his. "Those two nearly killed us! I was giving them what they deserved!" he defended his actions. 

"You mangled McGucket's arm and laughed your face off while killing that candy monster," Mabel said, her voice shaking with fear as she recalled those horrifying moments. "Yeesh, bro, I wonder why I'm concerned about you." 

Dipper scowled, annoyed that Mabel was working herself up over nonexistent problems. "There's nothing wrong with me, Mabel. I'm fine. And the laughing thing might have been Bill anyway." Bill proceeded to neither confirm nor deny his involvement. 

"Bill is exactly why I'm worried!" Mabel shouted. Her voice resonated through the empty parking lot, and Dipper cast a quick glance over his shoulder. None of the others had come outside yet. 

"Keep your voice down. I don't want everyone knowing there's a demon in my mind," he snapped. 

Mabel dug her feet into the concrete and faced Dipper directly, angry tears streaming down her face. "For Pete's sake, Dipper, stop acting like what you did back there was okay!" 

"Saving our butts is not okay? Wow, thanks, didn't know that," Dipper said sarcastically. 

"Torturing McGucket is not saving our butts!" Mabel yelled, face red. "I don't know what was going through your head at that moment, but I bet Bill had something to do with it!" As Dipper struggled for words to protest, she knew she was correct. Her gaze softened, and her grip on his arm loosened. "He's been messing with your head, hasn't he?" 

No, no ! A rush of panic hit Dipper as he felt Bill's amusement at Mabel's worry turn to anger. He shook his head, trying his best to deny Mabel's assumptions, but Mabel could tell he was lying. 

"What did he tell you to make you hurt McGucket?" she asked, sounding ready to punch the triangle in the eye no matter how Dipper responded. 

"Nothing," Dipper lied. "He said nothing."

Mabel's eyes narrowed in suspicion, but she gave up trying to pry answers out of Dipper. The twins continued the walk home in silence, their thoughts preoccupied with different things. Dipper thought back to the scene in the store and told himself that his actions were wrong. He shouldn't have done it. 

So why did he feel no remorse? And why would he do it again if he could?

Chapter Text

Mabel stood alone on a tall grassy hill, flowers brushing against her legs as they swayed in a heavy breeze. Pollen tickled her nose as she leaned down to pick a few flowers; the colors alternated between light blue, white, and pink. Mabel stuck a cornflower blue flower behind her ear and began to weave the rest into a crown. A sharp gust of wind blew through the hill, blasting the colorful variety of flowers out of her hand and up the hill. 

"Wait, come back, pretty flowers!" Mabel cried, chasing after the flowers. Dirt crumbled underneath her bare feet, and she slid on the slick grass of the hill. She refused to be defeated so easily and crawled up the hill with her hands. The dirt and grass clung to her hands like they were covered in glue, and she was panting by the time she climbed to the top of the hill. She wiped the dirt and mud clinging to her palms off on her shooting star sweater; the pink turned dull and sad under the grime spread across it. 

Catching her breath, Mabel looked up to gaze upon the land beyond the hill... and promptly screamed. 

Fire blazed high into the sky below her, burning through a familiar forest and house. Smoke belched into the air from the fire, and screams rose within it from people Mabel couldn't see. Shadows of terrified figures ran from the flames, but Mabel barely spared them a glance. Her eyes were locked on the Mystery Shack as sparks ate away at the wooden exterior, her heart thumping in panic. 

"No!" she shouted, sprinting down the hill. Dying grass withered away into dust as her feet pounded against the cracked ground. Flaming leaves brushed against her face, burning her cheek, but Mabel felt no pain. All her attention was directed at the Shack, to where her family might be burning. 

The porch stairs collapsed as Mabel ran up them, and she let out a cry of fear as she clung to the supports holding up the roof. Sweat poured down her face, but she brushed it off and kicked the door open. It fell away easily, charred to black by the flames burning around it. Mabel hurried inside, desperately looking around for any sign of her family. 

"Dipper! Grunkle Stan! Where are you?" she yelled loudly enough to harm her vocal chords. Around her, fire burned through the walls and floors, and the ceiling creaked ominously. Mabel coughed as smoke filled her lungs, but she persisted, walking into the living room. The carpet was ablaze with fire, and nothing remained of Stan's yellow chair and pictures but ash. "Grunkle Stan! Dipper! Say something!" Tears stung her eyes from panic and smoke. 

Fire blocked the rest of the ways through the house, and the stairs were the only path Mabel could take. Unlike the rest of the Shack, the wood of the stairs remained untouched by the hot flames devouring Mabel's home. Praying that her family had taken refuge in the attic, Mabel rushed up the stairs, coughing harder as the smoke collected in the highest parts of the ceiling. Her head was blazing with pain, but she ignored it, focusing solely on the safety of her family. They needed to get out before everything burned. As she ran to the attic door, she noticed a suspicious lack of fire and smoke, but she guessed it wouldn't be long until it was ablaze as well. She slammed the attic door open and almost collapsed in relief as her eyes landed on a familiar figure hunched in the center of the room. 

"Dipper! There you are! We need to get out of here, now! This place is going to collapse!" Mabel urged, running over to her brother. Wavering light shone in through the triangular attic window; Dipper sat in the middle of the shadow it cast. His eyes were shut, his hands neatly folded in his lap. Mabel tugged at his sleeve, trying to force him up. "C'mon, bro. We have to find Grunkle Stan and get out! We'll burn if we don't!" 

Finally Dipper opened his eyes, though only by a slit. The rest of his body remained in the same position, and Mabel tugged harder. "Dipper! Do you want to become fried chicken? Because I certainly don't!" 

Suddenly Dipper laughed, but it wasn't his voice that came through his mouth. The laugh was high and cruel and echoed, one that Mabel hadn't heard in a while but could still recognize. Mabel released Dipper's sleeve and stepped back, her heart pounding harder as her panic increased. 

"And what if that's what I want, Shooting Star?" Bill Cipher asked through Dipper's body, opening her brother's eyes fully. Yellow eyes with slit pupils stared into Mabel's, the same ones she had thought she'd imagined so long ago. 

A sick feeling churned in Mabel's stomach, but she held it back, refusing to look away from those awful eyes despite the chill running down her spine. "Get out of my brother, Bill!" she shouted, pointing at the door to tell him he was not welcome. 

Bill laughed again but remained where he sat, in the shadow of a window with his image on it. "No can do, kid. I'm trapped here, remember? But don't worry. Dipper's fine with me staying." 

"No, he's not! He looks miserable everyday because of you! Why the heck would he want you to stay?" Mabel snapped. Anger boiled in her veins, and she wanted to strangle the evil demon for his stupid lies. 

Bill grinned, a knowing look glinting in his eyes. Mabel faltered, uncertain what that look meant. "Really, Shooting Star? I know you can be smarter than that." He stood up, his hands still clasped tightly together, and took a step toward her. Mabel backed away, looking at his hands instead of his eyes. "His little display yesterday proves my point. He's becoming more like me the longer I stay in his head, and he likes it. He wants to be like me."

With gargantuan effort, Mabel tore her eyes off his hands and glared into Bill's horrific eyes. "You're lying!" she yelled, wincing as her throat throbbed in pain from inhaling smoke. "You forced Dipper to hurt McGucket! I know you did! Admit it!" 

"Silly Shooting Star." Bill shook his head in mock disappointment, his yellow eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "I did nothing! Dipper did it all himself." He laughed again, the sound making Mabel's skin crawl. "Face it, Shooting Star. You're losing him." 

Mabel covered her ears and backed away. "That's not true! You're tricking me!" She glared at the demon in her brother's body with watering eyes. "Get out of his body right now, you evil disgusting monster!" She charged at him, pushing him to the ground as his infuriating laugh echoed through the attic again. His yellow eyes met hers again, and Mabel suddenly realized she could smell smoke. The fire had reached the attic. 

"I'm never leaving, Shooting Star." Bill unfurled his hands to reveal a long silver knife hidden behind its shield. "Dipper's a lost cause. You can't save him." 

Mabel opened her mouth to retort and coughed as smoke flooded in. She stiffened as Bill raised the knife, fully expecting him to pounce on her and stab it through her heart. Instead, he winked at her playfully and pointed the fatally sharp point of the knife at Dipper's chest. The fire devouring the room froze as time slowed to a halt. The crackle of flame died in Mabel's ears, the beating of her heart crushing any other sounds around her. 

"No!" she screamed, reaching out frantically for the knife. But she was too late. Bill plunged the knife straight into her brother's heart. Dipper's body convulsed as blood leaked from the wound, and Bill's yellow eyes were replaced with Dipper's brown ones. They fixed on Mabel, filled with pain and anguish. Dipper collapsed onto the floor with a loud thump , and the attic crumbled as Mabel's world broke around her. 

She rushed to her brother's side and shook his lifeless body. He couldn't be dead, he couldn't. "Dipper... Dipper, please, wake up!" Mabel begged, shaking his shoulder and trying to ignore his glazed eyes that could only mean one thing. "We're-we're the Mystery Twins, we're n-not supposed to be split a-apart like this!" She let out a small shriek as Dipper's cold hand closed around her wrist. His cloudy eyes met hers as he kept her in place. 

"Why didn't you save me, Mabel?" he asked in a hurt voice. "Why didn't you stop Bill?" 

"I-I tried!" Mabel weakly protested. "I-I'm serious! We tried everything! I swear!" 

"Excuses," the corpse of Dipper scoffed. "You're the reason I'm dead, Mabel. Because you sat by and did nothing." His hand slid off of Mabel's wrists as his lifeless eyes closed, and all that remained of Dipper was an inanimate body. 

Mabel screamed and jolted up in her bed, disturbing Waddles and sending the pig squealing. Strands of matted hair fell into her face, and she brushed them aside, panting heavily and shivering. She glanced around desperately and noticed, to her great relief, that the attic wasn't on fire. She was in her bed, surrounded by soft stuffed animals and sparkly posters of boy bands. A sob escaped her as she covered her face in her hands, the nightmare still fresh in her mind. It had only been a nightmare. Just a nightmare. She took a deep breath and looked up, seeing nothing but a moonlit attic crowded with her and Dipper' s stuff. 

Speaking of Dipper... Mabel glanced over at her brother's bed and relaxed when she saw him drooling on his pillow. The journal lay open on the floor, right below where his hand dangled off the mattress. He fell asleep reading again. Silly. Mabel quietly pushed back her sheets and hopped off her bed. She wouldn't be falling asleep any time soon after a nightmare like that. Right before she opened the door, though, she paused. She couldn't leave yet. Her gaze was drawn to the journal lying abandoned on the floor, a few pages crumbled from falling haphazardly onto the floor. Mabel silently crept over and gently picked up the journal. She checked to make sure Dipper was fast asleep before taking her leave. She wondered what he was dreaming about... 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, stacking plus fours is against the rules!" Dipper glared indignantly at Bill as the triangle slapped down a yellow plus four on his blue plus four. 

Bill replied smugly, "Maybe not traditionally. But rules suck, so I'm making my own." 

Dipper massaged his forehead to ease his frustration. Who could have guessed playing Uno with a demon was a pain in the neck? "If you're going to change the rules, at least brief me on them before we start the game! Like what the heck is a double reverse! Ugh, seriously?" he complained as a card became trapped in the multitude of strings tangled around his wrist. "Do you have to put so many strings on me?" 

Bill snapped his fingers, and eight cards flew themselves into Dipper's hand, much to his chagrin. "Personally, I believe it's more fun to make rules up as you go along. Chaos is the best kind of order in the universe." 

"That makes zero sense," Dipper said. 

"Secondly, only immortal all knowing dream demons can play a double reverse, so don't even try. Thirdly, I do what I want, and you need to stop whining or I'll put more strings," Bill finished. He slapped down a green six. "Your move, Pine Tree." 

Dipper scowled and played a green five. "I hate you," he snapped, fuming at his hand of twenty cards. Bill had played an unnaturally high amount of plus fours, and Dipper regretted ever implying that he was bored. He wished he could travel to Mabel's dreams; she must be having so much fun in her weird surreal imagination...

In the real world, Mabel crammed as many salty potato chips as she could into her mouth while she flipped through Journal 3. Acutely aware that the chances of Dipper actually killing her for staining the pages with chip grease were high, Mabel used one hand to turn the pages and the other to eat. She squinted at the curly handwriting dominating the spaces between pictures. 

"How does Dipper even read this?" she muttered as she strained to recognize English. The words remained indecipherable, and Mabel decided that staring at the pictures and making up a meaning to fit them was a better use of her time. She admired the author's artistry, eagerly examining his or her hyper-realistic drawings and formulating ideas for sweaters and other crafts. If she ever met the author, she would give him or her a big glittery sticker for being such a talented artist! 

But she hadn't taken the journal to stare at pretty pictures. Quite the opposite, in fact. She shivered as she finally arrived at the blood-stained pages depicting the one-eyed demon that haunted her brother. His inky eye seemed to stare at her through the page, and goosebumps erupted on Mabel's arms. She quickly shot a look over her shoulder at the kitchen doorway, but nothing but shadows lurked in the darkness. Berating herself for imagining things, Mabel turned back to the page and was grateful that the author had managed to write something eligible for once. Unfortunately, the thing in question was the giant bolded letters spelling "DO NOT SUMMON AT ALL COSTS!" So helpful, strange author person. Summoning didn't work at all, so no need for warnings. She traced the loopy words with her finger in case that helped her figure out the fancy chicken scratch. 

She wished Gideon hadn't turned out to be a creep; she and Dipper could have had free access to Journal 2 if Gideon was a normal cute chubby magician boy. The bad circumstances made Mabel feel like she was trapped in one of her drama novels, fate always rebelling against her. She sighed and pressed her face into the table, licking the crumbs that had fallen onto it. As the salty deliciousness burst on her tongue, Mabel heard footsteps coming down the stairs. She bolted up, fear sending her heart racing. The footsteps were slow, deliberate. Someone didn't want to get caught. Hurriedly Mabel shut the journal and slid under the table, holding her breath as the footsteps drew near the kitchen. Was it Stan, also coming for a midnight snack? Or... or was it...

Then, out of the dark, came a whisper, "The skip card is not used to end the game. It skips the turn of the person whose turn is after yours." The familiar voice paused. "What I'm saying is you didn't have to snap my wrist because I played a skip card on you!" 

Mabel warily stuck her head out from under the table. Dipper stood beside the fridge, his hair and clothes rumpled from sleep, and glowering at the air in front of him. His hand rested on the fridge handle, about to pull it open. Moonlight settled on him as it leaked through the window, and Mabel breathed a sigh of relief as it illuminated his brown eyes. Her nightmare had no truth in reality. She emerged from under the table and set the journal far away from her bowl of chips. 

"Hi, bro! What are you doing up?" she chirped, pretending she was fine and had woken up from a good dream. Dipper's gaze moved away from thin air to focus on her. Bill must be there; Mabel didn't know how Dipper saw him, but she trusted that he did. Still, just thinking of the triangle floating nearby sent Mabel's skin crawling like a spider climbing up her leg. 

"Bill got mad while playing Uno and snapped my wrist in my dreams," Dipper explained as he reached into the fridge. The warm yellow light bathed across his face, and he winced at the sudden exposure to electric light. "Why are you up? Bad dream?" 

Of course Dipper would ask the question she wanted to avoid. She should have guessed. "Waddles woke me up. Poor guy was squealing in his sleep. He must have been dreaming about the love of his life marrying the butcher," she lied, fidgeting with her hair. 

Dipper raised an eyebrow. "Uh huh," he grunted, unconvinced. "And you decided to come down for a snack because a pig woke you up?" 

"Yup!" Mabel forced a smile and raised a double thumbs-up. "No nightmares here, noppity-nope! I am a-okay and definitely not freaked out about yesterday!" 

Dipper shut the fridge carefully; right, Stan was still asleep. He held two soda cans and held one out to Mabel. "Here, have a Pitt Cola. It'll keep you awake longer than chips." Mabel gratefully accepted the drink and popped it open; the carbon inside fizzled as air rushed into the can. Dipper caught sight of the journal on the table and frowned. "Huh, I could have sworn I was reading the journal before bed." 

"Oh, I borrowed it." Mabel pushed the journal toward Dipper. "You don't mind, do you?" 

"No, I don't. Unless you got potato chip crumbs all over it." Dipper suddenly snatched the journal from the table, his expression twisting fearfully. His soda almost dumped out of its can. "You didn't, did you?" 

Mabel, insulted by Dipper's lack of faith in her and completely understanding why because she'd gotten glitter glue on his books before, said, "I treated that journal like I treat Waddles! With love, care, and respect!" 

"And lots of glitter, makeup, paint, and sequins?" Dipper scanned every page in the journal, searching for any out of place marks. He sighed in relief when he found none and set the book down. "Thanks. I don't know what I would have done if the journal was ruined. Though I wouldn't have minded a few crumbs on Bill's page." 

Mabel took a long swig of her soda and tapped her fingers against the metal can. The quiet pings of the colorful can soothed her anxiety as Dipper sat down at the table. The nightmare plagued her thoughts, causing her to shiver every time she looked at her brother casually sipping his soda like he hadn't mauled a man the day before. This was wrong. She shouldn't be afraid of her own twin. Bill was behind the gruesome actions, she was sure of it. 

"Do you ever wonder where the first journal is?" she asked after Dipper drained his can. 

Dipper pointedly glanced to his right, his eyes flashing with meaning. "I've been a bit too preoccupied lately to think about Journal 1. Although I'm sure a certain someone could tell us where it's hidden." 

"He'd lie about it," Mabel said distrustfully. 

"Actually, he's saying we should go to bed. More like he wants to cheat at Uno some more," Dipper grumbled angrily. "No, I do think it's better than agonizing pain. It's just annoying!" He stood up from his chair and picked up the journal, yawning as he did so. The Pitt Cola sent energy fizzing in Mabel's veins, and she had no desire to fall asleep and revisit her nightmares. She understood, though, that Dipper wanting to go to sleep was a rare gem that she should cherish, but she wasn't finished speaking yet. 

"Can we go look for it in the morning?" she asked, crossing her fingers. Him refusing would be a large warning sign that something really wasn't right with him, and him accepting would alleviate some of her worries. 

To her delight, Dipper brightened at the idea of journal hunting. "Sure! Maybe we can steal Journal 2 again if we're collecting them." 

"No." Mabel's denial was so strong that it prevented Dipper from descending into a long ramble about how much he loved the journals. The twins abandoned the kitchen without cleaning up anything (not on purpose, though. They simply just forgot) and went back to the attic, Dipper arguing softly with Bill about Uno rules the entire time. From what Mabel gleaned from the one side of the argument she could hear, Bill had decided that Uno was a suitable torture device. Dipper disagreed, but Mabel thought Bill had a point, which she hated. 

After she crawled into her sparkly pink comforter, Mabel positioned herself to face Dipper's bed, where he was tossing and turning like he usually did to get comfortable. The familiar pattern soothed Mabel, and she clutched a stuffed animal tightly to her chest. Despite the carbonated drink buzzing through her body, Mabel could feel herself drifting off as the minutes ticked by. Her last thoughts before being dragged into the depths of sleep were of Journal 1 and the hope that it held the solution she and Dipper had been searching for since summer began. 

___

The second dawn sunshine shone through the attic window and lit up the dark room, Dipper jumped out of bed and threw his clothes on. He tucked the journal and the amulet underneath his sweater and checked the time; Stan would be worried if he woke up to find the twins gone. It was seven thirty, evident by the weak light filtering through the stained window. Plenty of time for him and Mabel to search for Journal 1; he estimated it would take the whole day to look for it, as the chances of them finding it without outside help were low. Speaking of outside help...

"Are you telling the truth about Journal 1 being close by?" he questioned Bill as he adjusted his sweater sleeves. Mabel had a tendency to knit the sleeves too long, and his hands were swamped by fabric. 

"It's closer than you think," Bill replied, saying the exact response he'd said when he and Dipper resumed their very rigged Uno game. Dipper had asked him about Journal 1's location, and Bill had answered his questions vaguely enough to give hints that could only be understood if you knew the context. Dipper obviously did not have the context, hence why he and Mabel were searching for Journal 1, and had attempted to forfeit the game. Bill had proceeded to remove the lower half of Dipper's body, forcing him to endure his defeat. 

Dipper expected a vague, unclear response and continued preparing for the trek. The woods seemed like a good starting place to look in as he had found his journal in there. Plus it was close to the Shack, and Bill had heavily implied Journal 1 was hidden near the Shack. Flashlight, pen, notepad, first aid kit, stickers for Mabel. All he needed to pack now were drinks and snacks. He checked the time again. Only fifteen minutes had passed during his packing. Sliding the backpack's straps onto his shoulders, Dipper hurried to the kitchen, itching to set off into the woods. Stan was rummaging through the cupboard, musing on what to cook for breakfast. 

"Woah, kid, you're up early," Stan said after he had shut the cupboard and spotted Dipper dropping his backpack beside the kitchen table. "What's that backpack for? You going camping or something?" 

"Mabel and I are going to explore the woods today. We thought it would be cool to find inspirations for new attractions," Dipper lied easily. 

"Like what? A blade of grass?" Stan laughed and opened the fridge. "There's nothing in those woods but trees, kid." He frowned as he took stock of the supplies in his fridge. "Do you think it's worth the risk to ask Mabel to cook breakfast?" 

Dipper shuddered at the thought of consuming inedible glitter in a delicious meal. "I'd rather eat your hair than glitter." Mabel was by no means a bad cook, but her tendency to dump plastic concentrated objects into food ruined the meals she made. 

As if his thoughts had summoned her, Mabel entered the kitchen, dressed in her shooting star sweater. Immediately she gasped and pointed at Dipper's sweater. "Oh my gosh, Grunkle Stan, Dipper and I unintentionally match! It's like we share a brain!" 

Stan scratched his head in confusion as he took in their pine tree and shooting star sweaters. "Hate to break it to you, sweetie, but last I checked trees and stars have nothing to do with each other." Oh, right. Stan didn't know about the Zodiac and the symbols. 

Is there a symbol representing Stan? Dipper asked Bill curiously. 

"Fez? Yeah, it's the symbol on his hat." Bill's voice deepened into a warning tone. "Tell him about the Wheel, Pine Tree, and I'll put you through a torture worse than the Uno game last night." 

Duly noted. Dipper would forever be traumatized by that Uno game. Stan eventually cooked breakfast after twenty minutes of searching through his kitchen, and the twins enjoyed a nice breakfast with toast, salty eggs, and sizzling hot pan-fried bacon. Mabel squirmed when Dipper offered her bacon, her guilty eyes flicking to Waddles as she declined. They packed Dipper's backpack to the brim with trail mix, granola bars, and water bottles, tuning out Stan's single warning to not fall off a cliff and die. A cliff was far less dangerous than the supernatural creatures lurking in the forest; if they fell off, Dipper would simply levitate them with the amulet. 

"Where do you think the journal will be?" Mabel asked excitedly as they hopped over dead branches littered across the leafy ground. "In a strange compartment like yours was?" 

"Probably. The author seems to really like hidden metal structures." Dipper pulled out the journal and showed Mabel the page about the secret bunker. "It says here that he built a bunker for experiments, but it doesn't say how to get in." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe Journal 1 is hidden in there!" 

"But how do we get in?" Mabel asked as she gracefully climbed over a fallen log. Dipper was not so lucky; he slammed straight into it and almost dropped the journal. Bill cackled at his accident, and Dipper hid his face in the journal to hide his humiliation. 

"He drew a tree here... My best guess would be to find this tree and go from there." Dipper glanced around at the mossy trunks surrounding him and Mabel. The endless expanse of similar trees overwhelmed him as he realized they would have to find one tree out of millions. 

"Well what are we waiting for? Let's go find it!" Mabel clapped her hands, smiling a bit too widely. Something was bothering her. Dipper held out a hand to stop his sister before she sprinted off and got lost in the wilderness. 

"Careful, Mabel. The author didn't write in directions." He must have memorized them to keep it secret. The thought furthered Dipper's theory that the bunker held important secrets, like Journal 1. 

The twins trekked deeper into the supernatural woods, eyes peeled for unnatural trees disguised as boring regular ones. Dipper brushed aside moss and vines to feel for metal while Mabel kicked the trunk. Seeing as bark hurt as much as solid steel, her strategy was ineffective and unreliable. Dipper knew she was mostly doing it for kicks and giggles- literally- and let her have fun. Given her behavior the night before, he guessed she really did have a nightmare, and their quest for Journal 1 would cheer her up, no matter how unsuccessful they were. 

Pine needles and leaves crunched under their feet as they searched for the Secret Tree, as Mabel had declared it. The temperature rose as the sun ascended in the sky, blasting its burning rays of light down on the Earth. Dipper wiped sweat off his brow as he and Mabel examined a particularly straight-trunked tree. Unlike the other trees surrounding it, the strange tree was as straight as a ruler and had little bumps or cracks on its trunk. Dipper found it to be highly suspicious and dragged Mabel away from a heart-shaped tree to investigate it.

"I think this is the tree, Mabel." Dipper held up the drawn version of the special tree against the one they were inspecting. "It matches almost exactly with the picture in the journal." 

"Dang it! I thought it would be that curly heart one for sure!" Mabel sighed in disappointment at guessing wrong. 

The twins held their breath in anticipation as Dipper knocked on the wood of the tree. Unfortunately any sound the knock created was blocked by an annoying voice with a Southern accent. A voice they had heard far too much and one Dipper would very much like to snuff out like a candle flame. 

"Well bless my wittle itty bitty heart. If it isn't Dipper and Mabel Pines." Gideon emerged from the shadows behind the heart-shaped tree, rubbing his hands together eagerly like he had found a prize. His greedy eyes lingered on Mabel before fixing a glare on Dipper. "I assume you still have my amulet?" 

"Finders keepers, losers weepers!" Mabel snapped, blowing a raspberry. Dipper nodded and drew a line across his neck in a warning. 

Gideon chuckled, thinking nothing of what he thought was an empty threat. "It's a beautiful day, isn't it, you two? All sunny and warm. Perfect for a stroll in the woods." A fake smile dripping with false sincerity dared the twins to contradict him. "I'm sorry I've interrupted your walk. At least that's what I assume you were doing?" His voice was sharp with suspicion, and his eyes scanned Dipper for any sign of pockets. 

Dipper noticed immediately. The edges of his mouth turned up in a smirk. Gideon really thought he had the upper hand. "You assumed correctly," he lied smoothly. "Grunkle Stan tried to make us unclog toilets again, and it was so nice outside that we bailed as soon as we could." He cast a meaningful look at Mabel, and she caught on to the lie like a fish to a hook. 

"Yeah, those toilets were nasty! Ugh!" She shuddered, her face twisted in disgust at a nonexistent memory. 

Gideon scrutinized the twins' expressions and posture carefully, searching for trickery and falsehoods. But Dipper remained stoic and Mabel gagging; either they were telling the truth or they were very good liars. Gideon's tiny hands balled in frustration as he realized they had caught him in his own trap. 

"I take it you're on a walk, too?" Dipper asked, sliding his hand into his sweater for the amulet. He brought the blue jewel out and brushed the stone with his thumb in full view of Gideon. He could practically hear the boy's teeth gnash together in anger. "Enjoying the scenery?" Mabel continued making gagging sounds beside him. She must be reliving a real memory as the sounds were far too accurate to be anything but real. 

"My business is none of your concern, Pines," Gideon snapped. He stared at the amulet held a few feet away from him hungrily. His greatest pride and joy. His blood boiled to see it in the hands of his enemy. 

"So you aren't just going for a walk?" Dipper faked a look of shock as he wrapped the amulet around his neck. He tied it exactly the way Gideon did when he had owned it, and the action set off a bomb in Gideon. With an inhuman snarl, Gideon lunged at Dipper with the ferocity of a snake. He tackled Dipper to the ground, unaware that he had fallen into another trap, this one of Dipper's making. 

Mabel squeaked in fear as Gideon wrapped his fingers around Dipper's throat. "The amulet is mine!" Gideon shrieked, clenching his petite hands tightly and choking Dipper. Dipper's lungs heaved for air as his face colored from lack of oxygen. Mabel moved to pull Gideon off her brother, but a burst of magic from the amulet threw Gideon away straight into the trunk of a particularly thick tree. 

Inhaling deeply, Dipper stood up and floated Gideon over to him. The child psychic pouted as he was moved against his will. 

"Remember, Pine Tree, he might be useful," Bill said. 

He'll backstab you the second you turn your back , Dipper replied, eyeing Gideon hatefully. He'd be a waste of time. 

"Hmm. Maybe," Bill conceded. "Go ahead then. Put him in the hospital." 

Gideon's face had paled in fear when Dipper returned his attention to the nuisance. A dark look had covered Dipper's expression, and Gideon knew he was in danger of dying. The amulet's magic squeezed his body, shortening his fearful breaths. Gideon closed his eyes and prepared himself to do the one thing he never thought he'd do. Beg. 

Before either of the boys made a move, however, a roar echoed from the trees, and a huge lumbering shape burst out of the shadows, jaws salivating as it faced the three tiny humans. Dipper dropped Gideon in his shock at the sudden appearance of a monster. Fight or flight kicked in as he took in the beast's slobbering pointed teeth and mushroom covered shoulders. He and Mabel grabbed each other at the same time and fled from the area, abandoning Gideon to the monster. Unfortunately Gideon was incredibly unappetizing as he was coated in strong smelling skincare and hair products. The monster chased after the twins, deciding that they were clearly the better meal. 

"What is that thing?" Mabel screamed as she and Dipper ducked under tree branches and ran through bushes. 

Dipper tugged out his journal and flipped through the pages, almost tripping over a root when he stopped watching where he was going. "Here! It's a gremlobin, a fearsome beast of the woods that will show you your worst nightmare if you look it in the eyes!" 

Mabel, who had glanced over her shoulder to check how far away the gremlobin was, quickly whipped her head around. "Got it. Any weaknesses?" 

"'When facing a gr'- look out!" Dipper screamed, skidding to a halt as the bushes and trees suddenly disappeared, leaving only a long drop of stone and water. A cliff. Dipper's shoes skidded the edge of the cliff, but Mabel was not as lucky. Mabel cried out in terror as her feet slid off the edge, sending her body careening forward over the fragile dirt edge. "Mabel!" Without thinking, Dipper jumped off the cliff after his sister. 

Bill promptly and reasonably flipped out. "WHAT THE FREAKING HECK IS WRONG WITH YOU, PINE TREE? GET YOUR BUTT BACK UP THAT CLIFF RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME!" 

Oh, right. Magic amulet. In the midst of both his and Mabel's terrified screaming as the spiky tree tops below fast approached them, Dipper remembered he could float things. He and Mabel froze in midair close to the surface of the evergreens. Berating himself for forgetting about the amulet in his panic, Dipper brought him and his sister back to the forest. The gremlobin paced the edge of the cliff, growling angrily as it scanned the ground below for its prey. 

"I think I'm going to throw up," Mabel squeaked, her voice quivering from the remaining fear from falling off a cliff. She clutched her stomach, where her breakfast was churning sickeningly. 

Dipper felt his guts churning, too, but the sensation was worsened by a scowling and irritated Bill. "How long do you want to lie here and process the trauma?" he asked, falling back onto the soft lush grass of the forest. Simply feeling the grass relieved the tension built in his body from the fall. 

"All day, please." Mabel collapsed beside him, spreading her arms out wide to feel more of the earth beneath them. "And all night. There's no way I'm falling asleep after that." 

"Oh, no, you're going to sleep tonight whether you like it or not," Bill snapped as Dipper thought the same. "Seriously, kid, jumping off a cliff? Your meat sack has a brain for a reason, you know!" 

"Wanna raid the fridge and eat all the ice cream Grunkle Stan has?" Mabel suggested after they lay in silence for a few moments. 

"You do that. My stomach feels like it'd spit up anything I put in it." 

No interference or obstacle met the twins on their way back to the Shack, all thoughts of finding Journal 1 dashed. With Gideon lurking about, the chances of getting caught were too high, and they needed to recover from nearly dying. Stan greeted them at the door when they arrived, eyeing their torn clothing and hair tangled with leaves. 

"Kids, you look like you fell off a cliff." He picked a leaf out of Mabel's hair and threw it onto the ground. Dipper and Mabel exchanged nervous looks. Should they tell him the truth? Would he forbid them from going into the forest ever again if they told him? "Relax, I was joking," Stan said, noticing their nervous expressions. "I mean, I specifically warned you to not fall off a cliff." 

Dipper laughed anxiously and picked at his sweater. "Well, uh, we did not fall off a cliff! Quite the opposite! We stayed on level ground and fell nowhere! At all! Obviously. Cause we're not dead. And we would be dead if we did fall off a cliff, so..." 

Stan raised an eyebrow. "Okay? You feeling alright, Dipper?" 

"Just peachy!" Dipper forced a painful smile and made a thumbs up despite the sweat pouring down his face and turning the dirt streaked on his cheeks sticky. 

"We're going to go eat all the ice cream now," Mabel announced, inching her way past Stan to the bathroom. "Do you want some, Grunkle Stan? There'll be glitter and sequins in it!" 

Stan backed away from Mabel like she had said a highly offensive vulgar swear word that no twelve year old should say. "Nope. I'm leaving. Do whatever you want, kids, so long as it doesn't harm my merchandise!" 

"Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a glue gun in my eye- ow!" Mabel winced as she struck her eye with the glue gun she always kept on her. She covered the injured fleshy ball and hurried to the bathroom. 

"No promises," Bill said through Dipper, forcing his lips to stretch into a creepy wide grin. The skin on his cheeks strained from pressure, and Dipper rubbed them to soothe the pain the second Bill released his control. 

Stan slowly walked out of the kitchen, disturbed by the horrific grin aimed at him. "Yeesh, Dipper, Summerween was yesterday. It's a little late for creepy faces." He disappeared into the living room, sipping loudly on a mug of coffee to ease the uncomfortable tension suddenly forming in the house. 

"Do you have to smile so widely?" Dipper snapped at Bill as he climbed the stairs to the attic. 

"Can't help it. That's just what meat sacks do when I pilot them." Bill's eye turned into a mouth brimming with knife sharp teeth, and the maw bared the killer teeth in a grin so wide it stretched beyond the eye socket. Dipper blocked the image from his sight, nausea returning to his stomach. 

After Mabel persuaded him to shower and rid himself of the dirt he'd picked up, the twins retrieved every bucket of ice cream Stan kept in his freezer, which was actually at least ten pints of it. Mabel chose a chocolate pint and rapidly shoveled the creamy cold treat into her mouth until she convulsed in pain from a brain freeze. Dipper asked Bill what his least favorite ice cream flavor was; the answer he got was vanilla because it was dull and boring. Unfortunately vanilla was the one ice cream flavor Stan didn't have, so Dipper ate cookies and cream. They watched Ducktective while they ate their ice cream, Stan snoring away on the chair behind them. As the hours passed and the moon rose, the twins ate their way through all ten pints; more specifically Mabel ate eight and Dipper two. It took him great effort to keep the ice cream in his stomach, but he managed it. Stuffed full with sugar, the twins collapsed into a food coma, sprawled on the floor at Stan's feet. The Pines slept in peace, bathed in the glow of a TV that would remain on until dawn of the next day.

Chapter Text

Dipper's back ached like someone had tied a bag of rocks to it when he woke up the next morning. He yawned as he sat up, his palms squishing the soft carpet underneath him. Carpet? Why was he on the floor? His joints cracked as he stretched, wincing at the pain in his knotted muscles. An empty chocolate ice cream container lay on its side next to Mabel, who was also asleep on the floor with her hair covering her ice cream stained face. Dipper rubbed his sore arms and remembered what had happened. He and Mabel had fallen off a cliff while looking for Journal 1, and they'd eaten ten pints of ice cream to recover. At least now he understood why his stomach hurt. 

Stan snored loudly in the chair behind him, and Dipper pondered whether he should wake Stan up or not. The living room badly needed cleaning as the knocked over containers of ice cream were dripping the melted treat onto the carpet. Dipper picked up a broken strawberry container and wondered how it had gotten destroyed. The container had been ripped brutally in half, and Dipper struggled to recall if he and Mabel had done anything to cause that sort of damage. He shrugged it off, blaming it on Mabel getting a sugar high, and took the ripped up container to the trash can. He collected the other empty pints, noticing that they, too, had been torn apart by someone. Dipper tossed his bundle of containers into the trash and looked at his hands to find them coated in different types of dried ice cream. A large pink spot, probably strawberry ice cream, crusted on his palms, and he wrinkled his nose in disgust. 

A tremendous amount of soap and water later, Dipper returned to the living room with wrinkled hands. As he scrutinized the damage done to the carpet, Stan snorted and opened his eyes, glancing around groggily as his senses returned to his brain. 

"What time is it?" he mumbled, still half-asleep. His glasses were lopsided, most likely from his head lolling about as he slept. He massaged his neck, wincing at the cramp in it. "Ugh, guess I forgot to go to my bed. Oh, Dipper, you're up." Stan hastily adjusted his glasses as Dipper walked over to him. "Did we all fall asleep in here or was it just me?" 

"We all did," Dipper answered, kneeling next to Mabel and shaking her shoulder. "Sorry for spilling ice cream on the floor. I think we ate too much sugar." He gestured to the ice cream stains on the carpet. Having been left alone all night, the stains had dried and would be hard to clean up. Stan wasn't thrilled about cleaning up the mess.

"Eat upstairs next time, then," he said, standing up from his chair. His back popped as loudly as a bullet, and Dipper shook Mabel harder as Stan stretched with a grunt, though it sounded more like he was breaking all of his bones. 

Mabel flipped onto her side and muttered, "Five more minutes, bro. Xyler is announcing my reward!" Her voice trailed off as she pushed her face into the old and musty carpet. Dipper left her to her dreams and glanced at the TV. They'd been watching it when they fell asleep, if he remembered correctly. He couldn't remember anyone turning it off, yet the screen was black, no sound emanating from the speakers. Maybe Stan had woken and powered it off. The TV remote was sitting on the arm of his chair, after all. 

Dipper settled down next to his sleeping sister as he waited for her to wake up. A dark purple bruise covered most of his forearm when he lifted the sleeve of his sweater to rub his sore muscles. Dipper jerked back, bumping into Mabel. His sister stirred slightly, mumbling again about sparkly dream boys. Dipper swiftly slid the sleeve down to hide the bruise. His thoughts spiraled in a hurricane of confusion, but he pushed it away to think about later. He planned to have some real quality time with Mabel, as they had agreed last night while eating ice cream. Far too many of their adventures ended with them or someone else nearly dying. Dipper must have hit his arm on a tree while the twins had been running from the gremlobin; it was the only logical explanation for the bruise. 

Stan had left the living room, leaving Dipper and the fast asleep Mabel alone. Dipper double checked the room to verify that he was truly alone and brought out the journal. Even though he and Mabel had nearly died for the thousandth time, their search for the journal had been enjoyable. He wished the gremlobin hadn't prevented him from killing Gideon, but he was confident Gideon would show up sooner rather than later, being the annoyance that he was. 

As minutes ticked by, Dipper felt his eyelids start to close. Mabel's light snoring filled the room, and Stan had kept the light off for her. Combined with the summer warmth wafting in from outside through an open window - who left it open?- staying awake became a monumental task, one he was definitely failing. Yawning loudly, he tucked the journal back under his sweater and rested his head against Stan's chair. He fell asleep seconds later, just as Stan reentered the living room. Their grunkle took one look at the sleeping twins on the floor and smiled fondly. He hastily ran to get a camera and snapped a couple of pictures of his niece and nephew. He'd put one in the lab above his journal, where he could always see it. Stan wished the kids a good sleep and headed to the gift shop to open up for the day. 

____

Gray books landed on the glowing yellow tile with echoing thunks , their spines shattering and pages bursting through the sides as if they were as fragile as glass. The shelf the books had occupied strained and cracked until it collapsed into a heap of crumbled wood. The broken stone heaved and groaned as it magically reformed into its old shape; a goopy yellow mixture formed between the pieces of wood, gluing the shelf together. The cracks were visible yet filled in with the yellow glue, but the books remained in pieces on the floor. 

"What to do with you..." Bill tapped his fingers together in contemplation as he peered at the mess of memories he'd scattered from the shelf. They were childhood memories from when Pine Tree was five, containing events that he could barely remember. Bill's eye turned up in a grin as he rearranged the pages in the books, keeping some pages and leaving others strewn across the tile altered in his image. Moral lessons taught to the boy were burnt until nothing remained of them but ash; humans were such sappy emotional creatures. 

The books were ordered chronologically, meaning Bill couldn't shove them in the shelf at random. As much as he'd like to, the mindscape would automatically rearrange them; he'd tried that with Pine Tree's preschool memories and failed. Bill floated back to take in the full view of the shelf and admired his handiwork. Another part of Pine Tree's mind under his influence. Just a few more aisles to go. A tremor shook from the center of the mindscape, a sign that Pine Tree was waking up. Bill dusted wood dust from his hands and teleported to the center with a snap of his fingers. No cracks or triangles dotted the perfect recreation of the Mystery Shack's attic, but Bill would change that soon. Settling on the windowsill, Bill tuned in to the outside view of the world. 

Pine Tree was stretching from sleeping on the floor for the second time in twelve hours, and Bill enjoyed the pain shooting through his aching muscles. To his disappointment, the bruise he'd forced Pine Tree to inflict on himself during the night wasn't hurting nearly as much as he thought it would. The kid resisted pain better than he expected. Bill watched, bored, as Pine Tree shook his sister's shoulders in an attempt to wake her up. What a softie! 

"Slap her, you coward," Bill snapped, rolling his eye at Pine Tree's distaste for the idea. "It won't kill her." 

"Did nobody teach you about manners?" Pine Tree huffed. He momentarily stopped his attempts at waking Shooting Star to cross his arms defiantly. Defiance wouldn't do. Time to see if Bill's alterations worked. 

"Manners are a lie, taught to you by a bunch of snobby narcissists who think morality is real." Bill took hold of Pine Tree's disagreeing thoughts and plucked the disapproval out of them like he was ripping apart a tiny bird. He grinned, pleased, as he felt Pine Tree's hesitation fade. Except one thing still held the boy back. 

"But I don't want to hurt Mabel," he said, wringing his hands in guilt at even considering harming her. 

Bill held back a groan of frustration as Shooting Star became an obstacle yet again. It seemed every time Pine Tree came close to submitting to his will, Shooting Star would come along and hold Pine Tree back from falling off the edge. He briefly considered strangling her as she slept, but the possibility of Pine Tree breaking through his control was too high. He needed to wait until he was sure the boy wouldn't get in his way. 

Before he could insult Pine Tree on his stupid sentimentality, Shooting Star shot from the ground with a scream. Her eyes were wide in fright, and she shook as she wrapped her arms around her knees. Pine Tree's sickening concern would make Bill's lip curl if he had one. 

"Mabel, are you alright?" Pine Tree asked as he put a comforting hand on his sister's shoulder. 

Shooting Star drew her knees closer to her chest, her eyes shadowed with fear. Bill would have loved to snoop through her mind and see what she'd dreamed, but alas it was a luxury he now lacked. "Nothing. It was nothing. Just a silly nightmare," she muttered into her knees. Pine Tree's worry heightened at her obvious lie, and he hugged her. Bill didn't understand why humans loved hugging each other so much. What the heck was comforting about someone invading your personal space and squeezing the life out of you? 

"Yesterday scared me, too," Pine Tree told Shooting Star as they hugged. "I'm honestly surprised I didn't have any nightmares about it." Shoot. Bill knew he had forgotten to do something last night! "But we're both still here, and that's all that matters, right?" 

Shooting Star sniffed and smiled, her tense posture relaxing from the sappy nonsense spewing out of Pine Tree's mouth. "Right." 

"Tone down the emotion, will you?" Bill grumpily requested. "Not everyone wants to hear you saps comforting each other." 

Then don't listen , Pine Tree's thoughts snapped, exasperation breaking through his overpowering worry for his dumb sister. His attention switched back to Shooting Star as she jumped to her feet and began rambling about pillow forts. Pillow forts. Such a mundane activity.

As the twins stacked pillows in the middle of the attic, Shooting Star's ear bleeding synthesized music blaring from a glittery hot pink speaker, Bill sullenly muttered, "This is stupid." 

"You're in a mood today," Pine Tree observed as he pushed a striped white pillow beside a cloud patterned blue one. "Even Grunkle Stan is less grumpy than you at the moment." 

Shooting Star scowled as she stuck her head out of the roofless fort. "Who cares if Bill has the grumpy-grumps! This is Mystery Twins Fun Time! No triangles are allowed to ruin it!" 

Bill felt a fresh twinge of hate toward the glitter obsessed girl. "I'd be less grumpy if she would quit getting in my way," he grumbled, absentmindedly spinning the illusion of himself above the fort, right next to Shooting Star's head. The illusion took little energy to create; he simply messed with the functions of the brain a bit and- bam- hallucination. 

Pine Tree froze in placing another pillow, his breath catching in his throat as he cast a fearful look at his sister. He was scared Bill would force him to hurt her. Good. It was about time Pine Tree finally learned his place. Bill toyed with the boy's thoughts, projecting gruesome images of his sister's dead body into his mind. Pine Tree cringed with each image Bill created and focused on plumping the pillows waiting to be inserted into the fort. Boring. He should shred them to pieces. Bill snuck the thought in among Pine Tree's, and his puppet glared at the pillows like they'd done him a personal offence and tore one in half, to Bill's delight. Pine Tree pushed the torn pillow to the side as it was no longer fit to be a part of the fort; stuffing scattered across the floor and clung to the other pillows.

When the pillow fort was complete, the twins huddled inside for the rest of the day. They played board games, told each other spooky stories, and wondered about the location of Journal 1. Bill remained quiet and worked on altering Pine Tree's mindscape; his impatience was growing and work needed to be done. Just a little touch here... and a little touch there...

___

"And I buy this tiny green house!" Mabel declared, picking up a house piece and holding it triumphantly in the air. "For... four hundred dollars? Ugh, why's housing so expensive?" She glared incredulously at the board at her feet as she handed the fake colorful Monopoly money to Dipper. 

"Don't worry. It's just a game. I doubt in real life it costs that much," Dipper said as he counted the amount of cash. 

Stan snorted as he thumbed through the pile of fake money beside him. "Hate to break it to ya, kids, but real world housing costs a hundred times more than in Monopoly. Why do you I think I commit tax fraud? I've gotta pay the bills somehow!" 

"Annnd the house is yours!" Dipper put aside the fake money, and Stan took it as his cue to snatch the dice from Mabel. Mabel lovingly placed the house below its tile. It was the first house she'd bought in the three hours they'd been playing; Stan had at least ten in his possession, though Dipper suspected he cheated. 

"Oh, he definitely is," Bill revealed, side-eyeing Stan. "In fact, I can see him stealing money out of the corner of your eye right now." 

Dipper slapped Stan's hand away from the box of fake money. Clutching his hand to his chest in pain, Stan cried, "Hey! I was just reaching for my drink!" 

Unfazed, Dipper pointed at the can of soda beside Stan and replied, "Your drink is to your left. The money is to your right." 

Stan said nothing as Mabel and Soos looked up from admiring their cards, fixing questioning gazes upon him. "Uh... Oh, look, an anthropomorphic zombie squirrel!" he yelled, pointing at a corner of the living room. 

"What? Where?" Dipper, Mabel, and Soos swiveled in the direction Stan pointed. The wall, patterned like stones, looked the same as usual, and no living thing crawled around the space except for a giant fly on the wall. 

"What an interesting wall!" Soos commented, admiring the wall that he saw everyday. 

"Seriously, Grunkle Stan?" Dipper turned back around with his arms crossed. "There's nothing-" He broke off, suddenly noticing something different. Stan's soda can- 

"See, Dipper? My drink is to my right!" Stan picked up the can, which was sitting right beside the money, and grinned. Dipper heaved an irritated sigh, shaking his head. Clearly Stan had distracted him so he could move the cup and claim innocence. 

"Whatever. Let's just get back to playing. And can someone get rid of that fly?" He glared at the offending creature buzzing as loud as a bee in the corner. It bounced off the wall, its fat slimy body weighing down its papery wings. 

"It's not harming anybody. Leave it be and let's play!" Mabel reached for the dice in Stan's hand. 

Stan pulled away, clenching his hand into a fist around the dice. "Wait till your turn, sweetie. I haven't even rolled yet." He rolled up his sleeve and braced his arm. "Time to see if my dice rolling skills haven't deteriorated." 

Dipper didn't see what Stan rolled as the giant fly had abandoned the wall to buzz next to his ear. He swatted at the fat nuisance, gritting his teeth in frustration as the bug danced out of his reach. Stan was moving his piece ten spaces. Dipper swatted at the fly again as it flew closer to his face. 

"Yo! Dude!"

Dipper tried to ignore the loud buzzing around his head and focus on Soos, who had addressed him and was gesturing toward Stan. "Yeah?" He jumped as the fly temporarily landed on his arm. He almost shrieked as the fly came close to sitting on his nose. 

"I said I wanted to buy a mansion," Stan said, swatting away the fly which had decided to go after his drink. 

"Nice." Dipper held out a hand to receive Stan's money. 

Stan laughed and motioned for Dipper to put his hand down. He didn't. "Actually I was thinking we could negotiate over these prices. See, I don't have enough money to buy this bad boy, but-" 

"Then you can't buy it," Dipper said, eye twitching as he felt the fly buzz past his ear. "Dice, please." He reached for the dice, but Stan held up a hand to stop him. 

"No, no, we're negotiating. So it says here that the price of the mansion is-" 

"That's not how the game works, Grunkle Stan!" Dipper snapped, face flushing red with anger. He was reminded of his Uno game with Bill where Bill kept cheating and bending the rules to favor him. "It's my turn now, so give me- ugh, will someone just kill this stupid fly already?" He swatted at the bug again. 

Stan put on his best innocent face which was nowhere close to innocent. "Lighten up, Dipper. I'm just trying to have some fun! Shake up the rules a bit, you know?" 

The fly landed on Dipper's knee, and his breaking point was reached. He slapped his hand down on his knee so hard his skin stung, and he wrinkled his nose in disgust as he felt the fly's squishy body flatten against his hand. He lifted his hand to inspect the smashed fly and held back the shudder at the feel of bug guts sticking to his palm. 

"Can someone get me a paper towel?" he asked his family or Soos. 

Mabel appeared distraught over the death of the fly. "Why'd you kill it, Dipper?" she asked in dismay. "It was living its best life here with us!" 

"Would you rather have peaceful silence or a bug buzzing nonstop in your ear?" Dipper looked down to see some bug guts sticking to his knee. "Actually... I think I'm going to go wash this stuff off with soap. Who knows what that fly could carry." 

"Can we still negotiate the price?" Stan raked an eye over the board, calculating how many houses he could scam his way into owning. 

"No," Dipper said. He handed Soos the calculator. "Soos, could you calculate the money?"

"Sure thing, man!" Soos agreed and received the calculator with a solemn expression. "I promise to do this job justly in your name. I am the Calculator Man!" 

Dipper suppressed a groan when he heard Stan ask if he could negotiate the price again and Soos agreed. In the bathroom, he wiped the fly's crushed body off with a towel, admiring the way the guts stained the paper like blood. All that was left on his palm was a black circle, and it soon disappeared with copious amounts of soap. 

"You know there are more useful ways we could be spending our time," Bill said as Dipper dried his hands. "I mean, who would ever want to waste their limited life on idiots like Fez or Question Mark?"

"They're my family. I find it fun to be around them." Dipper had a feeling he knew where Bill was going, and he quickly stepped out of the bathroom to head back to the living room. 

"Really? When all they do is lie and scam and bother you?" Bill scoffed. "You'll have an entire world in your hands, Pine Tree. You don't need them." 

Dipper stopped walking and fixed a stern glare on Bill. "My family is important to me, Bill. I know they're not perfect, but neither am I. Stan is... questionable, sure, but he would die for me and Mabel without hesitation. I know Soos would do the same even if he is a bit dull. I trust them far more than I'd trust you." He hurried into the living room before Bill could reply, anger burning in his veins at the implication that he might hate his family, that he might hate his sister. Bill may not have mentioned Mabel directly, but he could tell the demon had thought of her. 

He discovered that Stan had tricked Soos into giving him multiple turns and putting not just Mabel but Dipper as well into jail for the rest of the game. Mabel sulked in the chair they had dubbed "the real life jail", and Dipper joined her in sulking. Together they watched Stan cheat his way to victory and refused to clap for him when he bought out everything on the board. Even though Stan was a dirty cheater and ruined the game, Dipper still had fun. After all, he and Mabel had gotten the opportunity to draw insulting pictures of Stan behind his back and scatter them throughout the Shack for him to find. Dipper couldn't wait to see the look on Stan's face when he found the drawings. 

___

The pings and clicks of a pin ball machine emanated from a dark dusty corner of the Mystery Shack, where cursed objects were found. Dipper and Mabel sat on comfy pillows as they watched Soos fiddle with the western themed pin ball game. His goal was to get the highest score possible and secure a place at the top of the leaderboard. Mabel cheered Soos on enthusiastically, clapping her hands as she cheered, but Dipper hardly paid any attention to how Soos was doing. He was sketching a bunch of lines on a piece of paper; he didn't know why or what he was drawing but couldn't bring himself to care. He felt the drawing was of great importance, though he didn't know why he felt that way either. 

As the sound of failure reached his ears, Dipper finally looked up from drawing. Soos had failed at beating the game again. The handyman's shoulder slumped, but they quickly rose again as he prepared for another attempt. 

"Why don't you just tilt it?" Dipper asked, placing his pencil gently beside the pillow he sat on. 

"Nah, that'd be cheating," Soos refused, fiddling with the controls wildly as the ball bounced across the smooth plastic inside of the game. "A high score needs to be won with honor." 

"Who cares about honor?" Dipper picked up his pencil and resumed his sketching- or, more accurately, Bill resumed his sketching. "Watching you fail over and over again is boring and a waste of my time." 

Soos froze, his hands clenching tightly around the game controls. He gave Dipper a hurt look and meekly mumbled, "Sorry, dude. I didn't mean to make this unenjoyable. It's just... Cheating is wrong." He frowned as he read the high scores again, his eyes lingering on the number he aimed to beat. 

"Coward," Dipper muttered under his breath as Soos resumed his game. 

Mabel fidgeted uncomfortably on her pillow, unsettled by her brother's cold and disinterested tone. She remembered that he hadn't responded as excitedly as she did to Soos' request to watch him play pinball, which struck her as odd since he usually enjoyed doing crazy guy stuff with him. Now that she thought about it, he'd been acting weird toward Soos ever since their Monopoly game three days earlier. He hardly spoke to him, and when he did, the conversations were brief and ended in Soos looking crestfallen like he'd done something wrong. Mabel nudged Dipper in the shoulder to catch his attention, and he looked up from his drawing, his hand freezing mid-sketch. 

"Why are you being so rude to Soos?" she whispered. The clicks and sliding noises of the pin ball machine prevented Soos from overhearing her hushed question. "Are you still mad that he let Stan cheat at Monopoly?" 

"I'm not mad at Soos," Dipper said, his eyes slowly drifting to glance at his drawing. "And I'm not being mean to him. I'm only stating the truth." The pencil scratched against the paper as it added more lines to a sheet patterned in them. 

"Is Bill doing something again?" Mabel asked suspiciously. 

Dipper heaved an irritated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "For goodness' sake, Mabel, will you stop blaming him for everything!" The pencil broke in half from his tightened grip, wood shards poking into his skin and nearly drawing blood. 

"He's always behind your weird moods!" Mabel snapped, no longer whispering. She warily checked if Soos had heard her, but he remained oblivious, clicking his tongue in disappointment as he failed yet again. "And have I ever guessed wrong?" 

"It's none of your business!" Dipper huffed, dropping the shattered pencil and massaging his hand. "I've told you a million times, I'm fine, and Bill's done nothing, okay?" He threw a contemptuous glare at Soos as the machine blared his failure for all the room to hear. "Just tilt it, Soos! It's not going to come to life and harm you!" 

"Question Mark is the blandest human in this dimension," Bill said. "How about we ditch him and Shooting Star and I'll tell you about the portal in the basement?" 

Dipper perked up. A portal? He almost questioned Bill out loud, if it weren't for Mabel sitting right next to him. Whatever portal Bill was talking about, Dipper was certain that Mabel should never know about it. Not until the right time at least. He kept quiet and snuck glances at the door, trying to form a good excuse to leave. 

"Alright, that's it!" Soos cried after the dozenth failure. "We're tilting it, dudes!" 

Dipper's attention snapped back to Soos, and he eagerly left his pillow to stand by the machine. Mabel stood up more reluctantly. 

"You don't have to tilt it, Soos," she said. 

"No, you do!" Dipper climbed onto a stool and gripped the sides of the machine. "It's the only way to get a high score!" 

"Dipper's right." Soos lowered the brim of his cap over his eyes in resignation. "It must be done." 

Mabel sighed as she put down a bucket and climbed onto it. "Fine, fine. If it makes you happy." 

The pin ball rolled out again, and Dipper and Mabel rocked the machine back and forth. Mabel's reluctance faded at the invigorating motion, an excited smile growing on her face. Soos lifted the bottom edge of the machine, and the ball rolled straight into the mouth of the cowboy skeleton head goal. The machine beeped. 

"Bullseye!" the head said as Soos' score replaced the top one. 9999. A high score. Mabel, Dipper, and Soos cheered, and Bill begrudgingly clapped for their win. Dipper thanked him for not mocking them. 

"This is the best moment of my life!" Soos said, smiling proudly. "It totally beats my old best moment." 

To their surprise, the automated voice of the skeleton head interrupted their celebration. "That ain't right. You cheated." 

"Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it?" Mabel questioned the head. "You're just a pinball game, pinball game. Taunt taunt." 

"Uh, guys, there's an awful lot of green lightning coming out of that game," Dipper said, pointing at the game which was crackling with green lightning. It was definitely magical, and they definitely shouldn't mess with it. But it was also the most interesting occurrence in a couple of days. Dipper fell silent as he debated whether or not to be thrilled or creeped out by the game. 

"Nah, that's the normal amount of green lightning," Soos said. How did he not find that concerning? 

"What'd you expect, Pine Tree? He's an idiot," Bill insulted Soos. 

Dipper shielded his eyes as a bright green flash blasted from the pin ball machine, engulfing him, Mabel, and Soos in magical light. When Dipper uncovered his eyes, he noticed that his surroundings had changed. Instead of a dusty backroom, he was surrounded by Western styled boards and cardboard cutouts. Rubber knobs sticking out of the ground clued him in on what had happened. 

"Guys!" Dipper called, spotting Soos and running over to him. Mabel also came sprinting to him, and he noticed that the game had changed her outfit. Her head was wrapped with a Native American style band with a feather sticking out of it and similarly patterned blue dress. "I think we're inside the game!" 

Soos and Mabel gasped and shared excited grins. They darted across the plastic floor, messing with parts of the pinball machine. Dipper ducked into a cardboard cutout of a western style bar and reached into his pocket for his journal. He stiffened in alarm as he felt nothing, not even the amulet. 

"Where's the journal?" he panicked, practically tearing off his shirt to search for the maroon book. 

"Who cares! Let's have fun!" Bill's illusion appeared and rubbed his hands together mischievously. "Do you think this thing has real guns? I'd love to shoot Shooting Star's head off! Ha!" He chuckled at his pun.

"No shooting my sister!" Dipper slipped off his jacket and shook it out, hoping for the journal to tumble out. The pockets remained frustratingly empty. "Dang it! Where did my journal go?" 

"Throw yourself off the highest ledge in the game!" Bill suggested, still thinking about ways to have fun. 

"Wouldn't that kill me?" Dipper asked skeptically, unwilling to snap his neck in a pin ball machine. 

"No, but it might break a few bones, which is the point of jumping off a ledge." 

Dipper cringed as he thought of how badly that would hurt. Bill laughed at his thoughts and added, "Pain is hilarious." 

Dipper gave up trying to find the journal and approached the skeleton head that the game spoke through. He'd wanted to jot down notes about the head, but it seemed he would have to commit details to memory and hope he remembered everything correctly when he had the opportunity to write about it. The skeleton head was silent, its eyes dark. It was deactivated. Dipper cautiously poked the side of the head; he doubted it would react kindly to them given the fact that they got sucked into the game for cheating. 

"Imagine how fun it would be to be run over by a pin ball!" Bill said, examining the head as well. 

"Not reassuring. Where do you think its power comes from? It's magical power, I mean." Dipper circled the head, scanning the plastic and screws holding it together. 

"Good question. Maybe it's contained with the electrical power?" Bill floated into the skeleton's open mouth, but Dipper didn't follow. As the saying goes, don't go into the belly of the beast.

"Hey, game, could you lend me a magical pen?" Dipper asked the skeleton head. "I'd really like to know how you work." 

He hadn't expected the machine to respond, but the skeleton head's eyes filled with a red light that fixed on Dipper, narrowing slightly. Dipper waved nervously and took a step back. Bill may want to get crushed by a ball, but Dipper preferred to stay intact. 

"You're a strange boy," the skeleton head said, squinting judgmentally at Dipper. "What kind of invisible ghost are you talking to?" 

"Hi! Name's Bill," Bill said through Dipper. He even lifted his hand to wave. "And I'm a demon, not a ghost." 

"Broken out of the asylum, huh?" the skeleton head remarked, unconvinced as Dipper swatted at thin air. Bill had been making his illusion block half of Dipper's view. Unfortunately convincing him to move out of the way caused Dipper to appear pretty insane. 

"I'm not insane!" Dipper swore to burn the skeleton head when he, Soos, and Mabel escaped the machine. "Anyway. How are you alive? What did your creators do to make you magical?" 

"I ain't telling you that, crazy boy!" The skeleton head laughed and twisted to face Soos and Mabel, who had halted their activities to listen to the automated voice. "You're here to be punished for breaking the rules! Tilting is not allowed in pin ball. Everyone knows that!" 

"Rules suck, you dumb manufactured bunch of polymers!" Bill taunted the skeleton head through Dipper. Dipper winced as his lips stretched into that painfully wide grin. "Bill, could you not do that?" he whispered as his mouth relaxed without Bill's influence. 

The skeleton head swiveled to face Dipper, its red eyes brightening in rage. "I heard you advocating for cheating from the beginning, boy. Rules are rules, and you need to learn to respect-" 

"It's not my fault rules are boring!" Dipper snapped as he hurriedly backed away from the increasingly incensed head. "Make your game more fun if you don't want people to cheat!" 

"You tell him, Pine Tree!" Bill applauded loudly, pleased to see his alterations were working. To think Dipper had been upset about cheating only three days ago...

"Dipper, stop insulting him! You're making him angry!" Mabel yelled after he joined her and Soos a good distance away from the head. 

"I can't help it! He's too easy to mock!" Dipper cried, throwing his hands in the air in irritation. He lowered them and rubbed his sore arm where his bruise still was. 

"Don't blame me if you get another one because of this," Mabel said after noticing his movements. She'd helped him wrap his arm in an ice pack while he helped her with a large bruise on her leg, which was actually from fleeing the gremlobin. 

"Get yerselves ready for the multiball!" the skeleton head shouted. Three clear balls rolled out of its mouth and toward Dipper, Mabel, and Soos. 

"Never mind, I regret insulting him!" Dipper yelled as the trio turned and fled from their impending doom. They hid behind the bar cutout Dipper went behind earlier, and the balls rolled past without flattening any squishy human bodies. Bill crossed his arms and pouted like a disappointed five year old. Turning to Soos and Mabel, Dipper asked, "How are we ever going to get out of here? Think, guys!" His brain was blanking and no ideas came to mind. 

"I'm trying, but it's hard with that gorgeous pinball wench distracting me." Soos waved bashfully at a cardboard cutout of a fancy woman wearing a frilly red dress. 

"So helpful, Soos." Dipper rolled his eyes and clapped sarcastically. "Glad to see your brain is working as usual- which is not at all." 

"Dipper!" Mabel gasped, gaping at her brother's rudeness. "That was mean!" 

Soos flinched, hurt, but he shook his head to brush off the insults and focused on creating a plan. "Okay. Don't worry, guys, I know every inch of this machine. There's a manual power switch inside. I can sneak in there and turn off the game. But we'll have to distract the cowboy guy." He looked between the two twins. "Are either of you good at jumping up and down and making annoying noises?" 

Mabel straightened her back as a strange wind blew through her hair from nowhere. Must be the magic of the pinball machine. "My time has come!" she declared. 

Dipper and Mabel left Soos to distract the skeleton head while he went to the power switch. They climbed onto the flipper bat, and Mabel began her distraction.

"Hey, hey, hey!" she shouted, waving her arms to attract the head's attention. "Listen to me and look at what I'm doing!" She stuck out her tongue and blew a loud raspberry as she danced around. 

"Yeah, don't pay attention to anything else!" Dipper yelled. "Man, I wish I had my amulet." 

They continued their distraction until the skeleton head began to laugh. He laughed so hard he closed his eyes, and the twins seized the opportunity to check on Soos. They abandoned the flipper bat and hid out of the head's eyesight. Dipper unscrewed a screw to peer into the inside of the machine, and he and Mabel leaned down to check on his progress. 

"Soos!" Dipper called quietly to the handyman. "Psst!" Soos stood before the green power switch, but he made no moves to push it. Dipper restrained a groan of exasperation. Of course Soos was going to mess their mission up. "What's going on? Just press the switch already!" 

Soos immediately began rambling an excuse that only furthered Dipper's irritation. "Okay. So I was going to do that, but I've been thinking." 

"What a shocker," Dipper and Bill mumbled at the same time. Somewhere in the pinball machine, a red flag rose out of the ground beside the head. 

Soos pointed down at the gold label under his feet. It was a warning label. "According to this, turning off the power will erase the high score permanently. That score is like my one big life accomplishment!" 

"Is he joking?" Bill guffawed, turning red in anger. "Because if he is, it's not funny and we should kill him for it." 

"If you don't hurry up, we could die in here!" Dipper urged, him and Mabel sharing identical looks of panic. 

"Fair point. But what is life anyway compared to the immortality of a high score?" Soos mused. 

"Soos, I will strangle you to death in the afterlife if you don't press that button!" Dipper yelled, his fingers digging into the plastic below him, though he wished they could dig into that idiot's neck. 

Unfortunately his yell alerted the skeleton head to the twins' location, and the cutout they were hiding behind collapsed down. Dipper and Mabel huddled together as the skeleton locked his glowing red eyes on their brown ones. 

"Get ready to meet yer maker, kids! My maker is Ballway Games in Redmond, Washington," he informed them, tipping his hat to show them the location scrawled on the rim. Useless information that would serve no purpose to them. The head expanded to the highest he could go, and air began to suck into his gaping jaws. 

Mabel screamed as she was blown off her feet by the strong wind. Dipper tried to grab her, but his feet slipped off the ground. The wind stung at his eyes and chilled his bones as he held onto the plastic beneath him with all the strength he could muster in his noodle arms. Beside him, Mabel did the same, her hair falling into her face and into her mouth. 

"Soos!" Dipper shouted over the wind to the handyman below. 

"Soos, please!" Mabel cried desperately. 

"Turn it off!" Dipper and Mabel screamed as their grip loosened. The wind tugged at their bodies and forced their grip to release, and the twins flew toward the skeletal jaws of death, opened eagerly to consume them in the dark. 

"Wait! No! I haven't ended the world yet! No!" Bill yelled in dismay as Dipper and Mabel approached the dark abyss. 

With a snap, the lights in the pinball machine shut off, plunging their western surroundings in darkness. A bolt of green lightning crackled through the machine and into the abandoned bodies lying on the floor in a heap. With a jolt, Dipper, Mabel, and Soos awoke. 

Mabel jumped to her feet and joyfully shouted, "Yay! Soos, you saved us!" 

Dipper felt around his pockets and sighed in relief when he touched the smooth surface of the amulet and the rough yellowed pages of the journal. His relief was short-lived as he glared at Soos. "It's because of him we needed saving in the first place. Why did you hesitate, Soos?" 

A smile had spread across Soos' face at Mabel's praise, but it dropped as Dipper fixed a cold glare on him. "I... I thought-" 

"So the dunce thinks now?" Dipper's mouth twisted in a sneer as Bill spoke through Dipper like a hand puppet. "Color me surprised. I never imagined that peanut in your dumb head to be capable of anything more than keeping you alive." 

Soos lowered his head, eyes watering as shame overtook him. "I didn't want you dudes to be hurt," he whimpered. 

The sight of Soos hiding his face and wrapping his arms around his waist as if to shield himself from an attack filled Dipper with an emotion he couldn't describe. He wondered if he should be concerned and why he wasn't alarmed to realize he was feeling what Bill was feeling. 

"Well, congrats, we nearly died," Dipper said the moment Bill relinquished control. "If I were you, I'd go back home. I meant it when I said I would strangle you." 

Soos replied with a sniff and ran out of the room, his entire body trembling as he cried. What a baby. Dipper folded up his drawing, which was sitting peacefully on his pillow, and turned to come face to face with an enraged Mabel. 

"Do. You. Have. Any. Idea. What. You. Just. Said?" Mabel demanded, poking Dipper aggressively in the chest with each word. 

Great. She was going to lecture him. "Of course I do," he said, putting his drawing in his pocket. "And am I wrong? It's his fault that skeleton head was going to have the Dipper and Mabel special for dinner." 

Mabel's mouth dropped open in disbelief, and she backed away from Dipper, staring at him like he was a stranger. "He's changing you," she whispered, grasping a chair to steady herself. She searched Dipper's cold stare and found no remorse, no trace of a sign that he regretted the verbal wounds he'd inflicted on Soos. "He's... he's turning you into a monster!" 

"You're overreacting." 

"'Overreacting?'" Mabel repeated. "You just threatened to strangle Soos! Your friend!" 

"He was willing to let us die for a high score. I have every right to want to strangle him." 

Mabel's shoulders heaved as she struggled to believe what she was hearing. "Bill's making you think this way. I-I know he is! You- you would never be so... so cruel like that!" She clasped her hands together and pleaded, "Please, Dipper. Tell me the truth. What has Bill been doing to you?" 

Dipper looked away, unable to handle his sister's broken look. Bill's voice, loud and menacing, filled his ears with a warning. 

"Tell her anything, and I will kill her with your own hands." 

"He hasn't done anything," Dipper muttered indistinctly. 

"You're lying." Mabel's voice shook as she fought back tears. "I know you are. Tell me the truth. Please." 

Dipper bit his nails as his breath hitched. He couldn't. He couldn't say anything. "I... I can't..." 

"Please, Dipper. I need to know it's not you!" 

Dipper shook his head. "You don't understand. I can't tell you!" 

"And why not?" Mabel demanded, her voice cracking as tears streaked down her face. "Because he won't let you?" 

"Pine Tree," Bill said in a warning tone. "She's getting too close." 

"Mabel, just drop it! It's really not that big a deal!" Dipper silently begged her to shut up, to leave. He purposefully put more space between him and his sister when he felt his control of his hands slip away. 

"Well, I'm sorry I'm concerned about a demon taking over my brother!" Mabel yelled, pushing the chair she was leaning on into the wall. "Do you think I want to watch him turn you into a murderer? He's already made you hurt McGucket! And now he wants you to hurt Soos!" 

Dipper rocked on his feet, blood roaring in his ears as dark, murderous intent washed over him. "Mabel... You don't understand what you're doing." 

"Oh, I know what I'm doing, Dipper!" Mabel snapped. "I refuse to let Bill push you around!" 

"He'll kill you." Dipper laughed, a harsh broken laugh that quieted Mabel in her protests. "He'll kill you if you know too much." He settled onto the floor and gazed up at the fluorescent lights above him. "There. Do you understand? I can't tell you anything!" He pushed himself up and headed to the door, avoiding Mabel's eyes. 

He kept his face turned away as Mabel reached out and tugged at his sweater sleeve. "Dipper... I can't lose you..." 

"And I don't want him to kill you," Dipper countered. "Just forget about Bill, Mabel. It'll make the future bearable for both of us." He jerked his sleeve out of Mabel's grasp and stepped out of the room, his heart breaking to pieces as he heard her cry behind him. It was for the best, he told himself. Mabel needed to understand that he was dangerous. 

The attic's lights were off, shadows stretching as bright noon sunlight poured in. Dipper stared at the triangular window and the eye in the center that seemed to gaze back at him, full of malice. The tears dripped silently onto the floor as Dipper lay down on the windowsill, his eyes fixed on the triangle in the window. Stifling a sob, he hugged himself and finally, after so many days of pain and torture, let go.

Chapter Text

Dipper opened his eyes to see the gray attic in the center of his mindscape. Bill sat on the windowsill he'd fallen asleep on in reality, spinning one of Mabel's plushes in his hand. The plush's eyes had been torn out along with its stomach, and stuffing spilled and landed on the floor without a sound. Dipper remained standing instead of sitting on the mindscape version of his bed, watching Bill spin the ripped plush over and over and over. The action was almost as hypnotizing and distracting as the World's Most Distracting Object. 

"We've got work to do, Pine Tree," Bill said after a few long moments of silence. He tossed the plush out of the window at his side, and the stuffed animal passed harmlessly through the colorless glass. "Fez needs Journals 2 and 3 to finish the portal, and he's never going to find out you and Gideon have them."

"I don't know what the portal is," Dipper interrupted before Bill could continue. Stan building a portal sounded like a fever dream to him, and he didn't understand why Stan would need Journals 2 and 3 but not 1. 

"Oh. Right, I forgot." Bill cleared his nonexistent throat. "First of all, Fez's actual name is Stanley, not Stanford." 

Dipper recoiled in shock, sure he had misheard the triangular demon. "WHAT? You're kidding!" 

"I'm not. It's true. He's still your great uncle, though. See, he and Stanford were twins." Dipper relaxed at the confirmation that he hadn't been living with a complete stranger for the past few weeks, and Bill continued. "Fordsy and I made a deal with each other and created a portal that would let me into this dimension and take it over. His assistant fell into the portal, discovered my plans, then Sixer called Fez to come help him fix his problems. Haha! He should have known better than to trust that knucklehead." Bill snapped his fingers, and a hologram of an upside down triangle shaped metallic structure appeared in front of Dipper. "Ford fell into his own creation, and Fez has spent the past thirty years repairing it to rescue his brother." 

Poor Stan! Dipper imagined what life would be like if Mabel got trapped in a portal and shuddered. His eyes burned as he gloomily thought that they might actually end up separated, though for an entirely different reason. 

"But that's not important to us!" Bill shooed the hologram out of existence and settled back on the windowsill. "The point is, that portal is a connection between this dimension and the Nightmare Realm, and the journals contain the blueprints for it." 

"But what about Journal 1?" Dipper asked as he pulled out the dream version of Journal 3. "Does it not have any blueprints?" 

"Oh, it does. Fez already has it." Bill smirked as Dipper dropped Journal 3 in his shock. 

"St-Stan has Journal 1? How? Where did he find it?" Dipper gasped, unable to comprehend his grunkle keeping a random scientific book. Wait. If the journal had blueprints for the portal, and Stanford, Stan's twin, was the one to help Bill create the portal... then... OH MY GOSH ! "I'M RELATED TO THE AUTHOR OF THE JOURNALS?" he shrieked, bouncing on the balls of his feet like he was preparing to run a marathon. 

Bill was taken aback by his sudden excitement. "Um... yeah. It doesn't really matter, tho-" 

"Doesn't matter?" Dipper shrieked as high as Mabel. "He's, like, my idol! I've practically lived off his journal! I- I think I'm going to faint!" He collapsed onto his bed and squealed at the amazing revelation. The author of the journals! Was! His! Grunkle! Aaaaaaah ! He was so going to tell Mabel when he woke up!

"No!" Bill snapped, breaking Dipper out of his celebration by forcing him to stand on his feet. "Shooting Star mustn't suspect or know ANYTHING. She'll interfere, and I've had it with people interfering with my plans!" 

Dipper sobered up immediately as Bill replayed his argument with Mabel for him. "U-understood. I won't. Even though this is the best news I've received in my entire life." He picked up Journal 3 and flipped it open to find the portal blueprints. "So... we need to steal Journal 2 from Gideon again?" 

"Yup. But I have another option I think you might like." 

Dipper paused in the middle of turning a page. "What do you mean?" 

Bill lifted the ripped bear plush into the air and spun it again; stuffing drifted down to land on Dipper's hat and the open pages of the journal. "Lil Gideon wants to steal the deed to the Shack. I say we help him get it." 

Dipper shook his head, immediately disliking the idea. "No. Stan doesn't deserve to be homeless. Besides, Mabel and I would be sent home if he lost the Shack."

"Let me finish, Pine Tree." Bill gestured to the mess that was Mabel's side of the attic and continued, "She'll be sent home. We stay in Gravity Falls and fix the portal. Your precious sister would be safe from us... from me." 

"I... guess that could work," Dipper muttered reluctantly. "But... Gideon?” He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Do we have to work with him?" 

Bill shrugged. "He's the only one wanting to take over the Shack. Besides, we can just kill him when he fulfills his use." 

Manipulate Gideon and backstab him when he least expects it... Dipper liked the sound of that. "Yeah, we can go with that plan. But after we kill Gideon, we're letting Stan back in the Shack. It sounds like he's been through enough." 

"Mhmm. Sure." Bill blinked, though it might have been a wink. Dipper could never tell. "Also the portal page is near the middle of the journal," he added as Dipper flipped through the journal. Dipper found the page and raised an eyebrow at the lines and circles crisscrossing the paper. Bill lounged on the windowsill as he let Dipper look at a third of the blueprints, his usual brown eyes now a light shade of bright yellow. 

___

The living room was sweltering hot as the boiling air from outside wafted in through the open windows. Not a wind blew to cool the air, leaving the heat to manifest and strengthen as the day wore on. Sweat coated every inch of Dipper's skin in his body's vain attempts to cool itself, and he was more than willing to sit in Stan's chair all day and do nothing. Stan lay on the floor with a melted bucket of ice cream in his hand, and Mabel had face planted on the floor next to him, her lack of a sweater an indicator of how blazing hot the day was. Soos would have lounged around doing nothing with them, too, but he'd taken one fearful look at Dipper and excused himself. 

"I'd like to kill the sun," Dipper moaned as he tilted a giant fan toward his shiny face. "This heat is unbearable!"

"My ice cream's not even cold anymore!" Stan complained, pouring the now liquid mixture into his mouth. He smacked his lips, cringing in disgust at the flavor of melted ice cream. "It feels like we're in a... desert! Haha! Get it?" 

Mabel mumbled something indistinct, and Dipper booed him. Stan huffed and threw the ice cream container aside at the poor reception to his pun. The radio they listened to the news on crackled with static, and Toby Determined's whiny sleazy voice spoke through the speakers to deliver an important message, one that made the twins and Stan perk up for the first time since morning arrived. 

"On the bright side- pun very much intended- it's opening week at the Gravity Falls Pool!" 

"The Gravity Falls pool?" Mabel lifted her head tiredly from its position on the floor. Her eyes were bloodshot and dry, exactly like Dipper's. He stared hard at the giant fish tank, focusing on the boiling water to avoid looking at Mabel. She must not have gotten any sleep last night, thanks to him. 

"To the car!" Stan cheered, straining to pull himself off the floor with a grunt. When his back remained firmly stuck to the wood, he sighed. "Kids, get the spatulas."

"You might get your skin torn off," Dipper warned as he jumped off the chair and headed into the kitchen. Bill was rubbing his hands excitedly, eager at the possibility of causing physical harm to Stan, so Dipper tried to prepare Stan on the chance Bill might control his limbs. 

Mabel scowled and stayed sitting on the floor, her gaze darting away from Dipper the second he glanced at her. Dipper shuffled his feet awkwardly and hurried out of the doorway into the kitchen. Bill drifted along beside him, chuckling in amusement. 

"What's so funny?" Dipper snapped, aggressively pulling out the spatulas. They loudly clinked together, echoing in the empty dim kitchen. 

"Shocking how all it takes is a few incidents and Shooting Star can't even look at you!" Bill's eye crinkled in malicious mirth. "Keep it this way, Pine Tree. She'll hurt less when you inevitably betray her." 

Dipper's heart ached to think about distancing himself from his sister. But Bill had a point. He was like a gun, harmless until his holder pulled the trigger. He'd already hurt people. Mabel would be safer if he kept his space. He tucked the spatulas under his arm, wincing at their burning texture. The heat had managed to worm its way into the cabinets, and Dipper wished it were winter vacation and not summer. He handed Mabel one of the two spatulas, fighting a pang of sadness as she hesitantly reached for it, and slid his spatula under Stan's back. As he predicted, Bill took control of Dipper's hands and jabbed the spatula roughly under Stan's skin with a cutting motion. 

"Ow!" Stan grimaced at the pain of his skin tugging off the wood. "Careful with that, Dipper! You're going to rip my back off!" 

Dipper bit back the urge to reply and tried to ignore Mabel's worried and frightened look at him. Bill slid the spatula farther under their grunkle; Stan cried out in pain as dead skin ripped off his shoulder due to a harsh push by Bill. Mabel shouldered Dipper aside and took his spatula from him. She didn't say anything, but the quivering of her hand as she removed the spatula from his grasp said enough. Bill, huffing in disappointment at his lost opportunity to hurt someone, relinquished control, and Dipper tucked his hands in his pockets where they couldn't hurt anyone. 

"Sorry, Stan," he mumbled a quick apology once Mabel had vaulted him off the floor. "I didn't mean to hurt you." It hadn't even been him who'd done it. He tried to communicate the truth to Mabel, but she busied herself with poking at the wooden boards attached to Stan's back. 

Stan laughed and ruffled his hair affectionately. "It's nothing. Should have expected it, honestly, what with the oven out there." He jabbed a thumb at the open window still letting in the blazing wind from outside. "What do ya think, would the house be cooler if we shut the windows?" 

"No, the heat would build up even more," Dipper said, resolutely keeping his hands in his pockets instead of whacking Stan's hand away. He didn't think he'd be able to stomach Mabel's expression if he made any hint at a violent movement. 

"I'm going to get Soos," Mabel suddenly announced, her voice more high-pitched than usual as she attempted to sound cheerful. "You should come with me, Grunkle Stan." 

Dipper gritted his teeth to fight the rush of pain as he realized the implications behind Mabel's words. She thought Grunkle Stan wouldn't be safe alone with him, that Dipper would try and hurt him. Dipper understood and agreed, but the hurt welling inside his heart existed just the same. He looked away as Mabel shoved Stan out of the living room, leaving him and the deadly demon in his mind behind. 

"Look at that. She really doesn't trust you anymore, huh?" Bill twirled around Dipper's head, images of the beginning of the summer flashing through his body. "After all you've been through, you'd think she'd care more about your feelings!" The flashing array of images settled on the moment he and Mabel fought the gnomes together with a leaf blower. His last moments of freedom...

Dipper angrily kicked Stan's abandoned ice cream bucket into the wall. "Mabel has every right to distrust me now. You literally just hurt Grunkle Stan!" 

"Oh, so it's my fault Shooting Star hasn't so much as talked to you since last night? In case you've forgotten, Pine Tree, I've been here for weeks and your sister has only just chosen now to give you the cold shoulder. Don't you wonder why that is?" 

He did. It couldn't be because he'd tried to kill McGucket or threatened to kill Soos. Bill had come close to forcing him to hurt several people over the summer, yet Mabel suddenly had a problem with it? 

No. That wasn't true. She'd been furious at Bill after the whole nearly-turning-Pacifica-into-a-pancake thing; Dipper shuddered to remember how that summoning had gone down. 

"Except she didn't stop speaking to you after it," Bill pointed out. 

But he'd changed since then. "I'm not the problem," Dipper said in a tone of finality. "You are. And for the record, I agree with her. Nobody should be around me- around you. You're too dangerous." With that said, he went upstairs to retrieve a shirt, smiling as he felt Bill admit defeat. 

___

The car ride to the pool was silent, the occupants too busy in their own thoughts to acknowledge each other. Stan was bemoaning the heat as he cranked the air conditioning to its highest level, oblivious to the troubled states of his passengers. Soos fidgeted uncomfortably in the passenger seat, nervously glancing at Dipper every few seconds as if afraid he might bite. Mabel was no better, the difference being that she ignored his presence entirely. Dipper wrote and erased sentences on a piece of paper, chewing a pen as he struggled to put in words a tentative message to Mabel. 

Just as Dipper finally wrote a single word, the car parked, and Stan heaved his sweating aching body out of the driver's seat. Soos was quick to follow, scrambling to the entrance like he was running for his life. Dipper fiddled with the paper in his hands, feeling like if he looked in a mirror a demonic monster would look back at him. Unwilling to watch his own sister hurry to get away from him, Dipper unbuckled the seat belt and exited the car before Mabel, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He hadn't brought the journal or the amulet to limit the amount of possible weapons Bill could utilize. The asphalt beneath his shoes burned his feet through the thick material, and Dipper wistfully imagined drowning himself in the pool. The struggle for air as his lungs swelled with water and gasping for breath when resurfacing... it sounded hilarious. Wait, was he thinking that or was it Bill? Were any of his thoughts his own?

"Now, now, don't have an existential crisis on me," Bill chided. "Oops! I forgot! I can just remove those icky dreadful thoughts out of your brain! Haha!" 

Dipper immediately broke off from his family when the rattling gates shut behind them. Floating on his back in the pool and emptying his thoughts of nothing but how soothing the water was on his scorched body sounded preferable to watching Soos and Mabel avoid him like the plague. He waded into the shallow part of the pool, breathing a sigh of relief as the cool chlorine-scented water rippled around him. He took off his cap and set it on the edge of the pool, safe from harm. He dunked under the water and swam farther into the pool, relishing how quiet it was underwater. Emerging from the water, he shook his bangs out of his face and spotted Wendy sitting in the towering lifeguard chair. He waved to her, appreciating the fact that she smiled and waved back. It was nice to know someone other than Stan wasn't scared by him. Wendy smirked and gestured to something at a shady edge of the pool site. Dipper followed the direction she was pointing and stifled a snicker. 

Stan was yelling at- you guessed it- Gideon Gleeful as the child psychic stole his pool chair from right under him. Literally. The boy was wearing ugly American flag shorts, and for someone who valued his appearance more than revenge, he was awfully chubby. And not in a cute way. 

"Yes!" Dipper quietly cheered as Stan picked up Gideon and clenched a hand into a fist. "Sock him in the face, Grunkle Stan!" 

"Violence against children? Love to see it, love to see it!" Bill summoned popcorn and began to eat it. Dipper ignored the crunching sounds in his mind, but his hopes were shattered when Wendy blew her whistle and climbed down from her chair to confront Stan. 

"Seriously? Why can't she punish Gideon?" Dipper complained, pitying Stan as he moped in pool jail. 

"Actually, I think this a good time to set our plan in motion," Bill said, casting aside the popcorn. Thank goodness. Constant munching sounds had been the worst. "We might never get an opportunity to speak with him freely again." 

Dipper swam to the shallower side of the pool and sighed, "I still don't want to work with him." He caught sight of random people giving him strange looks and wondered what their problem was. "What?" he snapped at a little kid who had halted in playing at the bottom of the pool steps. 

"Why awe you talking to thin aiw, siw?" the little child asked innocently. The child's mother shushed her and steered the child away from Dipper, shooting him a suspicious glare as she did so. 

Oh. He'd been talking to Bill out loud. They must think he's insane. Dipper blushed furiously and stuffed his cap over his wet hair, hoping his family hadn't heard the scene. He adjusted his soaked white shirt and headed toward Gideon, who was tanning himself and smugly smiling as if to say "this chair is mine." He looked so helpless, lying on the chair without any source of protection. If only people weren't still staring at Dipper. His mouth widened in that creepy painful grin of Bill's, and the demon aimed it at their unwilling audience. Several people shivered and lost interest. Satisfied, Dipper rubbed his cheeks as he reluctantly sat down on the edge of Gideon's chair. 

Disturbed by the sudden movement at the end of his chair, Gideon lowered his tanning mirror, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise at the sight of a soaking wet Dipper. "Why, Dipper Pines! Isn't this a surprise! Your great uncle was just here a few moments ago, trying to get this very chair." He wiggled his back, a smug smirk tugging at his lips, but Dipper didn't miss the way Gideon's eyes flicked away from him, his breath quickening. For the first time all day, Dipper smiled and scooted closer to Gideon. As the boy shrunk in on himself, Dipper's smile grew. Gideon was scared. He should be. 

"Yeah, I saw that. Wasn't very nice of you, by the way. Stan was practically raving about the chair you stole in the car." A complete lie, but it was worth it to watch Gideon squirm. Dipper reached into his pocket, feigning grabbing the amulet, and sweat beaded on Gideon's brow. 

"Wh-what do you want from me?" the boy hissed, shrinking away as Dipper removed his hand from his pocket.

Dipper tipped his head to the side and let Bill grin that awful, horrible grin. Gideon whimpered and fought to keep eye contact, fear flashing in his gaze. "Believe it or not, I offer you my assistance with your... plans." 

"P-pardon?" Gideon inched further back into the chair as Dipper leaned forward to whisper.

"A little birdie told me you want the deed to the Mystery Shack. I'm offering to help you get it. For a price, of course." 

"You're joking." Gideon stared at him in shock, his fear ebbing away slightly. "Stanford... He put you up to this, didn't he? He's trying to trick me?" 

Dipper snorted a laugh and covered his mouth to quiet it. "We both know he's not one for subtle tricks. Besides, why would he send me to trick you and not Mabel? I mean, you already think I'm joking. I'm the last person you'd expect to betray his family." He slid his hand into his pocket again. "I wouldn't blame you if you still didn't believe me, but I'm sure a little... extra... incentive may be enough to persuade you." 

Gideon flinched and held his hands up protectively. "Now-now, listen here-" 

"No." Dipper's fingers wrapped around Gideon's thick neck and pulled the boy higher so that their eyes were forced to meet. "I don't have time to listen to your sniveling pathetic attempts at intimidation, boy . I want an answer. Do you want my help or not?" He held up five fingers and waved it around for Gideon to understand. "Either answer now or send me a message in five days. Understand?" 

Gideon's throat wobbled as he fought not to cry. The threat in Dipper's heartless eyes was as clear as the sweltering sun they were enduring. Dipper tightened his fingers until Gideon choked. 

"Understand?" 

"I-I un-understand!" Gideon choked out. 

"Wonderful." Dipper released his grip and stood up. Gideon massaged his throat and glared at Dipper, hate and terror mixing in his beady eyes. Dipper patted his pocket and added, "I hope you understand the consequences of what will happen if I don't get an answer." Bill's grin widened until Dipper's cheeks began to throb. "I look forward to making a deal with you, Gideon." He spun on his heel and strolled back to the pool, feeling Gideon's scared but petulant gaze on his back. 

"Kid's a fool if he decides to cross us," Bill said as Dipper jumped into the pool after taking off his hat again. "But I'd say that went well. Did you see him cringe when I grinned? Ha! Priceless!" 

"Funniest thing I've ever- oh, great, Mabel's flirting with someone. This isn't going to be pretty." Dipper shook his head in exasperation as Mabel chatted with a long haired boy who appeared to be their age. Mabel's reddened eyes were wide in awe as she talked to the boy, and Dipper wondered if her new crush would be classified as long-term or short-term. Many of Mabel's crushes fell into the short-term category, but there had been a few over the years that lasted longer than a day. Most of the time she failed to succeed in swaying a crush to like her, and Dipper worried that her heart would be broken again.

Mabel's new crush rested his arms on a rectangular pool float as they talked, his hair flying animatedly in the weak breeze. Mabel's eyes tracked the movement of his hair like a predator would prey, but they conversed quietly, the boy cautiously checking for eavesdroppers. Dipper, suspicious, floated up right behind Mabel and poked her in the back of her head. 

"Ah!" Mabel shrieked, spinning around and splashing water into Dipper's face. Dipper spluttered as water entered his nose and filtered down his windpipe. He brushed the excess water off his face and forced a joking smile. 

"Hi, Mabel! How's, uh, everything going with..." He raised a questioning eyebrow at the boy, noticing that he had a moustache. At 12? How? 

"Mermando," the boy introduced himself. He had a Mexican accent and extended his hand for Dipper to shake, a friendly but wary look in his chocolate colored eyes. Wary of him or something else, Dipper couldn't tell. Had Mermando seen or heard him talk to Bill or intimidate the pool goers? As far as he was aware, Dipper only looked scary when Bill stretched his face to inhuman limits. 

"I'm Dipper," he said, grasping Mermando's hand and shaking it. He almost immediately let go as Mabel rubbed her arm nervously. "I'm Mabel's brother. Nice to meet you!" 

Mabel cleared her throat loudly, and the two boys diverted their attention to her as she swam between them. "Excuse us for a sec, Mermando." Her new crush nodded to show he didn't mind and drifted out of earshot to let the twins talk. To Dipper's surprise, Mabel locked eyes with him, searching them for something, though he didn't have a clue what that something was. "What are you doing, Dipper? Come to kill Mermando?" 

Dipper quickly stuffed his hands into his pockets. His action brought more suspicion upon him as Mabel eyed his pocket distrustfully. Of course she'd think he had the amulet. "I'd only kill him if he deserved it," he replied. Turned out that was the wrong thing to say because Mabel's face fell, and she looked away once again. "Mabel-" 

"Don't." Mabel put space between her and Dipper, eyes watering as she did so. "Bill isn't the one I want to talk to." Refusing to look at him, she swam back to Mermando, and the two resumed their hushed conversation.

Dipper stared after his sister, his heart breaking into a thousand pieces. He'd never thought Mabel would actively avoid him, and a part of him ached with bitter loneliness, wishing he could travel back in time and erase their argument from history. But another side of him, the logical one, argued that it was for the best. Dipper kept an eye on Mabel and Mermando through the rest of the scalding afternoon, approving of Mabel's happy expression as she hung out with a crush that Dipper was beginning to think might work. He kept an eye on Gideon as well in case the brat decided to respond and determine his fate. However, Gideon stayed in his shaded corner, his face blocked by his tanning mirror. As the pool began to shut down, Stan stomped over to Dipper, who had taken a seat close to his sister.

"Gideon! I hate that kid!" he huffed angrily, his face red from rage and the sun. "Why does he always have to be there to take what belongs to me?" 

Dipper gingerly touched his sunburned cheek and scratched at the dead skin coating his flesh. "Eh, he'll never change. Is it time to go?" 

"Yup. That weird Poolcheck guy is throwing everybody out early! What a ripoff!" Stan scratched his nose and added as an afterthought, "Tell Mabel we're leaving. We don't want to accidentally leave her here." 

"Maybe we do," Bill laughed. Dipper shot the triangle an unamused frown and checked on Mabel. She and Mermando were still talking, blissfully unaware that it was closing time. 

"Mabel! We're leaving!" Dipper announced as he crouched down on the edge of the pool beside the pair. Mabel and Mermando jumped at his sudden appearance; Mermando's pool float bounced a bit, and Dipper swore he saw a flash of green scales under Mermando before Mabel's new crush hastily dragged the float back to him. 

Mabel smiled warmly at Mermando and waved to him as she climbed out of the pool. "Bye, Mermando! See you- hehe- tomorrow!" She giggled again, her and Mermando exchanging a knowing look that made Dipper feel like a third wheel. Which he was, in a way. Mabel hurried toward the exit gate, shivering slightly from the cool pool water, and Dipper bent down to speak to Mermando. 

"Hey," he said. "I see you've gotten along pretty well with my sister." 

Mermando struggled to come up with a response to the strange boy he'd seen talk to thin air. Dipper unsettled him with the calculating gaze he set upon him, and a chill trickled down Mermando's spine despite the furnace the outside air was on that day. "She's very sweet and funny," he said after an awkward pause. "I look forward to getting to know her better." 

"Good, good. I'm happy to hear you care for her. Lemme just make one thing crystal clear to you first." Dipper dropped his voice to a whisper and said in a deadly tone, "Hurt her, and I will boil you alive and eat you in a fish fillet sandwich." Mermando's horrified stare refreshed him as he straightened up and chirped, "Have a good day. I'm glad Mabel found you." 

___

The dull triangular window glowed in the light of a round full moon, casting a shadow across the dark attic. Mabel peeked out from under her covers as the night lengthened, checking to see if the coast was clear. A shape rested on Dipper's bed, the sheets pulled over it. Dipper must be hiding under his covers again; he'd developed that habit since the start of the summer. Unless that part of him changed, too. Mabel carefully slipped out of her bed, wearing just her swimsuit; actually, she was cooler wearing the swimsuit and not one of her sweaters. She stayed as far from the moonlight as possible as she snuck out of the attic, her heart racing in excitement. 

She was doing what every girl her age dreamed of doing: sneaking out in the middle of the night to see a hot guy. She would have squealed in joy if she wasn't trying to get caught. Grunkle Stan might not approve, and Mabel could only hope Dipper hadn't meant Bill's "I'd only kill him if he deserved it" spiel. Bill definitely had a hand in Dipper's new macabre mentality, and she wished she'd realize her brother was changing before he went bonkers and actively considered murdering people. She pushed the thoughts out of her mind with a rough shake of her head. Tonight was not the night to worry; at the moment, Mermando needed her! After all, she couldn't help Dipper while he slept. 

As she tiptoed to the front door, she heard the clicking noise of buttons being pressed come from the gift shop. Mabel stopped and tilted her head in the direction of the employee door; it was cracked open, moonlight filtering in and cut in half by a wavering shadow. Mabel's gut told her to hurry and leave before she was caught, but curiosity ate away at her as she heard muttering through the open door. The urge was too strong, too overwhelming. Mabel gave in and creeped up to the door, holding her breath to better hear whoever was on the other side of the wall. 

"Ugh, what was the code again? 2... A... No, no, that's not right! C'mon, stupid metal box! Open!" 

Mabel stiffened and fought back a rush of fear washing over her. She had no reason to worry. This wasn't the first time she had encountered Dipper out of bed in the middle of the night. He must be getting a snack and nothing more. She glanced at the front door and back into the gift shop. She couldn't see Dipper from her position, but he sure sounded frustrated. Should she leave? But what if Bill made him do something bad? She had to at least confirm if he was up to no good! She pushed the gift shop door open fully and walked inside, doing her best to look nonchalant. 

To her massive relief, Dipper stood in front of the vending machine, typing a number into the keypad. He kicked the machine in frustration, unaware that Mabel was standing right behind him. Suddenly remembering that she was wearing her swimsuit, Mabel turned to leave before Dipper shifted his feet and caused a beam of moonlight to catch on a glint of silver. Mabel faltered mid-step, sure that the night was playing a trick on her. Dipper pressed a few keys on the keypad and kicked the machine again as it failed to deliver the snack he wanted. 

"Dang it! He must have changed it. Wait-" Dipper reached into his pocket, and the glinting silver object entered Mabel's full vision. Unable to hold it back, Mabel gasped at the sight of a fork sticking out of her brother's arm, dried blood coating the skin around the tinsels. Startled, Dipper spun around, activating the amulet he clutched in his hand. Mabel slammed into the wall behind the counter and struggled at the blue glow encasing her. 

"Wait, Dipper, it's me!" Mabel cried, heart pounding in terror as the magic tightened around her neck. 

"Shoot! Mabel!" Dipper dropped Mabel immediately, covering his eyes as she fell to the ground with a loud, "Oof!" He ducked out of the moonbeam resting on him and the vending machine and lowered his hands when he reached the counter she'd fallen behind. "Did you break any really major important bones?" he asked eagerly.

"No." Mabel rubbed her head and grimaced. "I hit my head, though." She leaned against the counter and pointed at the fork sticking out of Dipper's arm. "Why's there a fork in your arm, bro? Here, stay still and let me take it out-" 

"I fell down the stairs," Dipper said, dodging Mabel's attempts to grab his arm, "because of my weak noodle legs. There just happened to be a fork at the bottom, and I haven't had the time to tear it out. Hey, I'll do it right now!" 

"Dip-" Mabel started to protest as he wrapped his fingers around the handle of the fork. She grimaced as he wiggled it out, tearing his skin even more and sending fresh trickles of blood down his arm. She was glad she couldn't see Dipper's pained face, which was concealed by the darker parts of the room, but she swore she heard him giggle slightly. "I'll go get a band-aid." 

"No need." Dipper pushed her back behind the counter, his bitten nails digging into her shoulder painfully. "I'll tend it after I, uh, get my snack from that busted old vending machine." 

"It's bleeding, Dipper. You shouldn't walk around with an open puncture wound," Mabel pointed out, eyeing the blood running down Dipper's arm with worry. Dipper stepped back farther into the shadows, tucking his injured arm closer to his body. 

"Relax, sister. I ain't stupid. But, uh, is sleeping in a swimsuit trendy now? Did I miss a decade or something?" Dipper laughed as he finally noticed what she was wearing. Somehow it sounded mirthless and a little bit anxious like he wanted to end the conversation as fast as possible. 

Heat rushed into Mabel's cheeks as she ducked behind the counter to conceal her swimsuit, the pink standing out in the dark of the night. "Why, uh, yeah! Swimsuits are trending as sleepwear! I'm-I'm totally not sneaking out in the middle of the night to go meet my merman maybe-boyfriend or anything!" She chuckled nervously and crossed her fingers, praying Dipper believed her. 

Dipper stayed silent for several long moments. As time ticked by, Mabel began to believe she had managed to get away with that lie. She took a step back toward the door but froze when Dipper finally broke out of his silence. 

"So that kid really is a merman, huh?" 

"What? No, no, he's not!" Mabel shook her head vigorously in denial. "There is no merman! Um- look, Wendy in a bikini!" 

"Nice try, S-Mabel, but you can't fool me. Especially since h- I don't have a crush on Wendy anymore. Go use your creepy disgusting distraction techniques on someone who's actually dumb." 

"Well, you still can't stop me from seeing him!" Mabel cried, running for the gift shop door. "Not even if you tell Grunkle Stan!" She halted at the door, an idea coming to life in her mind. "Or... you could stand guard for us!" 

"Excuse me?" Dipper backed away as Mabel spun around and charged at him. 

"C'mon, Dipper! This is the perfect time to keep Bill from messing with your brain!" Mabel took hold of his wrist and pulled him after her to the door. 

"Oh, yeah, sure," Dipper said sarcastically as he dug his heels into the floor to resist Mabel's pull. "You, a powerless mortal heap of flesh, stopping chaos and weird incarnate with the power of what- love?" He made a loud noise of disgust. "H- I've told you a million times. Nothing. Will. Work. Not to mention Bill will kill you if you keep shoving your nose into his business!" 

Mabel closed her eyes and took a deep calming breath of the fresh pine scented night air. It relaxed her muscles, which had tensed as Dipper argued with her. "Can we argue later? I'm already late!" She ignored the burning in her eyes and the wobble in her voice and resumed pulling Dipper after her. He finally allowed her to drag him, purposefully averting his eyes as moonlight washed over them. She hopped into the driver seat of the golf cart, starting it up as Dipper climbed into the backseat. He was smiling, about what Mabel didn't have a clue.

The ride to the pool was silent; Mabel attempted to start a conversation with her brother, but he only responded briefly, seemingly unwilling to talk. Strange considering the wide smile plastered on his face the entire time. It kind of creeped her out, to be honest. 

"The forest's quiet," Dipper remarked as Mabel parked in the trees beside the pool. "I doubt anyone is going to catch you hanging out with Fish Boy in the pool after hours." 

"His name is Mermando, not Fish Boy." Mabel looked around for leverage to climb onto the fence. She could see nothing but leaves and trees in the area they stood in. "Mind if we use the amulet to float over the fence?" 

Dipper's mouth split open in a giant grin that revealed every single one of his teeth, his gums glistening in the strands of moonlight falling across half of his face. Mabel's skin crawled, and she suppressed a shudder, involuntarily backing away from her brother. 

"Nope! I'm not involved in your dating shenanigans, and I don't want to be!" He patted his pocket and gestured to the golf cart. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a date with a vending machine and a nap." 

"But... you were supposed to keep watch." Mabel tried her best to use her puppy eyes, but Dipper's unnatural grin terrified her and made it difficult to look at him for longer than two seconds. "And-" 

"Don't care!" Dipper jumped into the golf cart and saluted her as he backed the cart away from the gate. "Promise me you'll never come back, ‘kay?" 

Mabel pressed her face into the cool chain metal of the fence, dread pooling in her gut as the sounds of the golf cart faded into the distance. Something about the way Dipper had acted was off. But then Dipper's behavior had been off for several days now, and she knew why. She closed her eyes and counted to ten, willing herself to concentrate on Mermando and only Mermando. She was supposed to be taking a break from her troubles, not worrying about them even more. She hooked her fingers into the fence links and began to climb, her worries ebbing slightly as she spotted Mermando waving at her. She smiled back and dropped to the ground, rushing over to him eagerly. The moon continued to rise, bathing them in its beautiful silver glow, and the night passed on.

___

The door to the gift shop slammed shut, rattling the shelves and their stacks of merchandise from the force of the slam. A fallen bobblehead broke and crunched under Bill's foot as he angrily stepped onto it. The plastic scratched at his bare feet, and he smiled, laughing at the pain. He tugged at his hair, letting the painful sensation calm his buzzing anger. 

"That was close," Bill muttered under his breath as he approached the vending machine. "Too close." He could see his reflection in the metal of the vending machine, his two eyes yellow with a slit pupil. The sight significantly brought his mood up, and he turned his attention back to the code he was trying to crack. He was on a strict time limit as he had no idea when Pine Tree would wake up. The kid would freak out and do something stupid if he woke up to find Bill piloting his entire body. 

Unfortunately, the code to the vending machine had been changed, and Bill didn't know where it was written down. Sneaking around for it would draw unwanted attention to Pine Tree, and Bill was too close to success to want to risk anything. As much as he hated it, he would have to leave the portal be and let Fez work on it as he'd done the past thirty years. Bill stepped back from the vending machine and glanced around the gift shop for possible ways to hurt Pine Tree's body. The fork marks in his arm burned and stung whenever he moved it, and his head ached from falling down the stairs. Bill kicked aside several knick-knacks as hard as he could before calling it quits. The sky was getting lighter outside, orange streaking through the clouds. The sun was rising. Pine Tree would wake up soon. Bill hurried up the stairs to the attic, making sure to stub a few of his toes on the doorframe, and sat below the gorgeous window crafted in his image. He released his control, and Pine Tree's body slumped against the window, the kid still out cold. 

Bill hummed cheerfully as the mindscape attic came into focus around him. The bed on Shooting Star's side was broken in half, cracked wood digging into ripped sheets littered with scraps of torn posters. Bill laughed quietly to himself as he floated out of the attic and toward the last set of shelves he needed to change. He was grateful to Shooting Star for hurting Pine Tree; the more he hurt, the easier it was to alter his mind. As Bill came to Pine Tree's memories from the last year or so, he felt his puppet wake up and grimace from the pain in his arm and head. 

Dipper grimaced as he woke and felt a throbbing pain in his forearm. He waited a few moments for awareness to come back to his groggy mind and felt something cold against his cheek. He straightened and realized that he was leaning against the window in the attic. He scratched his sore head in confusion. Hadn't he fallen asleep in his bed? The pain in his arm grew as he fully woke up, and he looked down and flinched in shock at the four tiny red dots surrounded by blood on his arm. 

"What the heck is this?" he asked no one, jumping off the windowsill and immediately heading to the bathroom. He rummaged through the cabinet for the first aid kit, baffled and stressed. He couldn't remember waking up in the night, and he certainly hadn't felt any pain while he slept. The pain should have woken him up, right?

"I've got good news, Pine Tree!" Bill declared, his illusion appearing beside the sink as Dipper pulled the first aid kit out of the cabinet. "Well, good for me, I mean." 

"I'm a bit busy right now!" Air hissed through his teeth as he gritted them against the sting of antibiotic ointment. He twisted the cap back on the bottle and grabbed the bandages. "Can this wait?" 

"No, considering it has to do with the fork marks," Bill said. "Boy, that ointment stings! I love it!" 

"Fork marks?" Dipper repeated, dropping the bandage box as his blood ran cold. "You... you know what these wounds are?" He pointed at the neat row of dots on his arm, which kind of did look like fork marks when he thought about it. 

"Yup. I jabbed a fork into your arm last night for fun," Bill revealed. 

"You did WHAT?" Dipper almost shrieked. He checked his volume, scared he would wake up Stan and Mabel. He held onto the sides of the counter to steady himself and demanded, "How? I don't remember waking up last night!" 

"That there's the good news!" Bill floated up to Dipper's face, his voice full of satisfaction. "See, I can fully possess you now! I-" 

Dipper grabbed the bandage box and stormed out of the bathroom, covering his ears in a useless attempt to block Bill's voice. "Yeah, no, I'm not dealing with this right now."

"What?" Bill blinked, taken aback. "Where are you going?" 

"Back to my bed." Dipper swung the door open and sat cross-legged on his bed. He opened the box of band-aids and peeled a large one off its packaging, pressing it to the four holes in his skin. "Wait, where's Mabel?" He eyed her empty bed in worry; it was too early for her to be up. "Did you do something to her, Bill?" 

"Unfortunately no. She's at the pool with her merman boyfriend." 

"Did she realize it was you?" Dipper chewed on the inside of his cheek, shuddering to think of the horrific things Bill could do to Mabel if she found out more than she should. 

"I just told you I didn't harm her, didn't I?" 

Dipper relaxed and picked up the bandage box. "True." He glanced at her bed again, worry poisoning his thoughts. "You won't... try anything, though... will you?" 

"Not unless she catches me," Bill said. "Or discovers my plans." 

Dipper considered this information for a few seconds, his gaze lingering on Mabel's glittery side of the room. Nodding to himself, he made his decision and headed downstairs to wait for Grunkle Stan to wake up. He laid on the couch and stared at the ceiling, arms behind his head as he listened to Bill explain the events during the night. Bill made it abundantly clear he was only telling Dipper about it in case Mabel asked questions. The air was as stifling as yesterday, and Dipper guessed they would be going to the pool again. A good opportunity to speak to Gideon about his answer, if he'd decided it. 

The shuffle of slippers announced Stan's presence before he walked past the living room. Dipper sat up and hurried into the kitchen, swerving in front of his grunkle to block his path. Stan, wearing nothing but a hot pink robe, bumped into Dipper, failing to register his presence. 

"Grunkle Stan, I need to talk to you," Dipper said, stepping aside to let Stan pass to the table. 

"It's eight in the morning, kiddo. What world ending event happened that's so necessary to talk about this early?" Stan turned on the coffee machine, getting out a mug painted with money. 

"Are there any other bedrooms in the Shack besides the attic and your room?" Dipper asked, looking away from Stan every time his grunkle looked at him. 

"No." Stan's eyes narrowed. "You aren't asking what I think you're asking?" The squelch of coffee pouring into a mug filled the silence that fell after Stan spoke. 

Dipper covered the marks on his arm and picked at the band-aid, briefly wondering if he should back down. No, no, it was to protect Mabel. He steeled himself and forced out the words that wanted to stick in his throat and never leave. "I want a separate room." 

"Ha!" Stan laughed and ruffled his hair. Dipper wrinkled his nose and ducked away from Stan's hand, glaring at his grunkle. "After spending several weeks sharing a room with your sister? You'd go stir crazy in the silence." He cut himself off abruptly with a cough and continued, "Besides, there's no other rooms in the Shack. You'd have to sleep in my dusty old man chair every night. What brought this on, anyway? Did you and Mabel fight?" 

Would it be a lie if Dipper said yes? Technically they did fight just... Wow. Two days ago. Time had flown by fast. "Maybe," he replied, forcing his hand away from the bandage. 

Stan sighed and shook his head. "Look, Dipper, it's natural for you and your sister to fight sometimes. That's just how siblings are. Is whatever you two argued about really important enough to warrant sleeping in another room?" 

Dipper nodded emphatically. 

"Don't tell him the truth," Bill warned. 

He wouldn't. Dipper watched as Stan set the coffee mug on the table and placed a hand on Dipper's shoulder. Nervous, Dipper covered his bandage again, but Stan hadn't noticed it. 

"If I find another room for you, I'll give it to you. But trust me when I say that you won't use it for long," Stan said. He patted Dipper's shoulder and retrieved his coffee. "Both of you agreed on this, right?" 

Dipper froze. "Uh..." Excuses blurred together in his mind, and he nearly panicked as nothing came to mind. Bill came to his rescue. 

"She doesn't know yet. I came up with the idea last night after she ignored me all day." Bill wiped his eyes, feigning tears. "I... I don't think I could handle another day like that." 

Stan frowned, his eyebrows creasing in disapproval. He tapped the porcelain mug with his fingers as he thought deeply. "I'll talk to your sister," he said at last after Bill gave the wheel back to Dipper. "Has she woken up yet?" 

"No, she's still asleep," Dipper lied. He cast a glance at the front door, wondering when Mabel would return from her date. Was she still at the pool or was she on her way home? Dipper picked at the bandage again to ease his worry. 

Stan sipped his coffee loudly. "Go get changed into a swimsuit. We're going to the pool again." He wiped sweat off his brow to emphasize his point. 

Shooting one more concerned glance at the door, Dipper left and took out the journal once he was back in his room. Bill hovered a few inches above his knees as Dipper flipped to the page about merpeople. To his relief, Stanford- his GREAT UNCLE, the AUTHOR-  described them as docile, and humans were more likely to harm a mermaid than mermaids to harm a human. Dipper snapped the book shut and lay on his back, thankful that Mermando posed no danger to his sister. He'd been afraid the gnome incident would happen again. 

Eventually, after a couple of hours, Mabel returned from the pool sweating bullets. Stan was anxious to get to the pool as fast as possible to claim his precious perfect chair and ushered the twins into the car. As they buckled themselves into their seats, Mabel glanced at Dipper's arm and tentatively smiled when she saw the band-aid. 

"I'm glad you took care of that, bro," she said, unconsciously brushing her hand over her own arm like she was imagining having the wound. "It looked pretty painful." 

She was offering an olive branch. Dipper quickly shot a look at Stan, but Stan mostly ignored the twins' conversation, probably understanding that it was none of his business. Not wanting to ruin Mabel's good mood, which she hadn't had for a while, Dipper accepted the temporary peace. His heart hurt to know it would break when he told Mabel his plan, but he trusted her to realize it was necessary. 

"Hey, uh, about ditching you last night." He examined the floor as he talked, counting blades of grass stuck in the carpet. "I'm sorry I was rude. You just wanted to spend time with me, and I was too sleep deprived to notice." 

"No problem, bro. I understand. You're-you're probably never going to be the same, and my expectations need to change, too." Mabel tried her best to sound light-hearted, but even a deaf mouse could hear the pain in her voice. 

Dipper's soul broke. "I'm sorry, Mabel. I really am." 

Mabel waved the apology off. "You're not to blame here." She nestled into her seat and gazed out the window at the blurry passing trees, her eyes sad. 

Perhaps he shouldn't move out of the attic. But would staying hurt Mabel more in the long run? Moving out wouldn't kill her, but Bill could whenever he wanted, especially when Dipper was asleep and helpless to stop him. 

What do I do? he asked Bill despairingly. I can't bear hurting Mabel again!  

"Either keep her safe or let her discover every bit of information she shouldn't know," Bill said, sounding bored with the debacle. "Sounds like an easy choice to me." 

The car parked at the pool, and the Pines filed into the pool, Mabel immediately running to find Mermando. Stan went after his chair and found Gideon sitting there again. Dipper watched their interaction from afar, waiting for Stan to march off. Once his grunkle had left, Dipper approached Gideon. 

"Made up your mind yet?" he asked, his shadow falling over Gideon. 

Gideon froze and laughed nervously in the middle of spreading sunscreen across his pale skin. "Oh, Dipper! B-back again? I-I need a little more time to consider your offer b-before I decide. O-okay?" He trembled under Dipper's withering glare. 

"Four days, Gideon," Dipper reminded him coldly. "Four days, or I destroy everything you've worked so hard to build." He brought out the amulet and activated it; Gideon flinched as a blue glow surrounded the bottle of sunscreen in his hand. The sunscreen bottle tore in half with a loud crack, and globs of white sunscreen splattered onto Gideon's chubby bare stomach. "Make the right choice, kid," Bill added, taking control of Dipper's body and grinning painfully. 

Gideon shuddered and wiped the sunscreen off his stomach, and Dipper knew the creep wouldn't reply. He tied the amulet around his neck and lapped around the edge of the pool, searching for a comfortable chair to spend the day. He found one entirely in the shade and took a long nap, catching up on much needed sleep. His body hadn't actually slept last night due to Bill taking over, and every muscle yearned for rest. Dipper obliged willingly, wanting to stall before he broke the bad news to Mabel. The chair, despite being in the shade, was warm, and Dipper snuggled into it happily, enjoying the lessened heat in the shade. 

After the pool closed and they were sent home, Dipper resolved to tell Mabel tomorrow. Stan had clearly forgotten his promise to talk to her - Dipper suspected he'd done it on purpose. He spent the entire night worrying about Mabel's reaction and ignoring Bill's attempts to shut him up. The next morning, right after Mabel woke up, Dipper cleared his throat to catch her attention. Mabel's hair was tangled and dirty, and her eyes drooped with exhaustion, a sign that she had barely slept. Dipper felt a pang of guilt but pushed it away. It was for her own good, he reminded himself. 

"Mabel," he said, bracing himself for an angry and hurt response. "Things have been very tough lately for both of us, and I'm not sure how much longer we can put up with it." 

"What the heck are you talking about?" Mabel mumbled, her head falling onto her pillow. Waddles snored beside her, deep in the land of piggy dreams. 

Dipper closed his eyes and mustered enough courage to say, "We can't share a room anymore."

Chapter Text

"WHAT?" Mabel yelled, shock and disbelief etched onto her face as she abruptly sat up on her bed. Her sudden movement woke Waddles, who oinked in displeasure at the interruption to his sleep. "Dipper, you're kidding!" 

"I'm serious," Dipper said. "I already asked Grunkle Stan if there are extra rooms in the Shack. He doesn't think there are, but I'm sure he'll find some-" 

"But why?" Mabel drew her covers closer to her, the fabric bunching tightly in her hands. "We've shared a room all summer, bro! Why do you suddenly want... to... leave..." The covers fell from her hands as her expression shifted from shock to horror. 

Dipper guessed what she was thinking and attempted to deny it as best he could. "He hasn't made me hate you, Mabel, and I promise he never will. It's just..." He trailed off, wondering if he should continue. Telling Mabel she might be in danger by being around him risked the possibility of her figuring out Bill could take over his body. 

"You can't tell me?" Mabel scowled. The bags under her eyes intensified her scowl. "Of course. Don't know what I expected." 

The words angered Dipper more than he would like to admit, and he rocketed to his feet, startling Mabel and causing her to flinch back. He pretended not to notice. "Oh, so you want Bill to kill you? Fine! I'll tell you everything, if that's what you want so badly! Just don't come crying to me when you end up dead in a ditch because you asked for it! Heck, maybe I should just kill you myself!" He sucked in a large breath, his lungs heaving from yelling so loudly. When he had caught his breath, his heart dropped in his stomach. Had... had he just said...? 

Mabel trembled on her bed, Waddles clutched tightly in her arms. She looked at Dipper in... in terror. She was... Dipper couldn't finish the thought. He hesitantly stepped forward, and Mabel shrank back against her wall, staring at Dipper like he was an axe murderer preparing to chop off her head. 

"Mabel, I-I didn't mean that!" He lifted his hands to show he held nothing. "I'd never, you'd know I never-" 

"Do I?" Even Mabel's voice shook with fear. She tightened her grip around Waddles in an attempt to comfort herself, but she remained terrified. "I never thought you'd hurt Soos or Grunkle Stan or anyone for that matter, but you did." 

"You're my sister!" Dipper interrupted. "Why would I ever hurt you?" He came closer to Mabel's bed, and Mabel flinched again. "Oh my gosh, Mabel, stop acting so dramatic and listen to me!" he cried in annoyance. He slapped his hands down onto the mattress, oblivious to the rage burning in his eyes. 

Mabel pulled her covers over herself and Waddles, turning them into a shaking mass of pink fabric. Dipper massaged the bridge of his nose to quell his rising anger, but it only increased when he started to hear Mabel cry. 

"I. Didn't. Mean. It!" Dipper snapped, reaching for the covers. He snatched them off of Mabel, revealing her and Waddles curled up in a tight ball. "Quit acting like a baby! I'm not going to hurt you!" 

Mabel grabbed her pillow and stuffed it over her head, her sniffs and sobs multiplying. Dipper's eye twitched in irritation, and something in him snapped. Without thinking, he tugged the pillow off Mabel's head; she refused to let go, and they ended up in a tug of war battle, each refusing to release their grip on the pillow. The tug of war only incensed Dipper more, and he was the first to let go of the pillow. Mabel's widened in surprise before- 

SLAP ! 

"WILL YOU SHUT UP?" Dipper yelled, his hand stinging from a blow he had yet to realize he'd done. "Do you even have an idea HOW ANNOYING YOUR STUPID CRYING IS?" 

Mabel was quiet. Her crying had stopped. Her fingers lifted to touch her cheek, bright red and swelling from her own brother slapping her. She stared at Dipper in shock, unable to say a word. Dipper took a few moments to calm down, and he finally noticed Mabel's cheek. He froze as the memory came rushing back to him. 

"Crap." He lurched forward, regret piercing his heart like a knife. "Mabel, I didn't-" 

Mabel scrambled off the bed, lifting her arms protectively in front of her face. Dipper stopped, his anger falling away as overwhelming guilt replaced it. His right hand started to hurt, and Dipper hid it under his leg, ashamed of himself. 

"Mabel-" 

"You're right. We shouldn't share a room anymore." Mabel glared at him with sorrow swimming in her eyes with more tears. "But mark my words, Dipper. I will find a way to bring the real you back. And I'll kill Bill while I'm at it." She picked up Waddles, who was headbutting her leg anxiously, and slammed the attic door behind her, leaving Dipper alone in a dead silent room. 

Dipper stared at the attic door. He pulled his hand out from under his leg and examined his bright red palm. He couldn't believe what he'd done. He'd slapped Mabel in the face. He buried his face in his hands and groaned, shame and guilt burning in his veins. So much for swearing he would never hurt Mabel. The reality sank in as he thought harder about the moment he ruined everything. He flipped onto his stomach and screamed into Mabel's bed, wishing the sound could expel all of his churning horrible emotions. He couldn't believe what he'd done. All this time he'd thought he'd have to stop Bill from harming his sister; Dipper would never have guessed that the real danger was him. 

"Cheer up, Pine Tree!" Bill said, floating down to sit beside Dipper's tear-streaked face. "Now she can't get in our way anymore. Isn't that what you wanted?" 

"Yes, but... not like this!" Dipper wiped his eyes and stared imploringly at the demon occupying his mind. "Should I apologize to her? I don't want her to hate me!" 

"I wouldn't apologize," Bill advised, crossing his legs and putting his arms behind his body like he was relaxing on a beach. "It would encourage her to spend time with you, and we both know how nosy Shooting Star is. Unless you want her to discover the portal? 

Dipper grunted in frustration and threw his hands in the air. "I know, I know, it must be kept secret! But what if she investigates anyway? I know Mabel, and she never gives up when she has her mind fixated on something. What if we can't stop her from finding the portal? Don't say kill her- you already know how I feel about that." 

Bill lifted into the air and hovered in front of Dipper's face, his eye calm and reassuring. "We'll cross that bridge if we get to it, Pine Tree. For now, we need to focus on kicking her out of this room." 

"You'd rather stay in the attic?" Dipper asked, surprised. 

"What can I say? It's creepier in here." Bill shrugged nonchalantly. "Anyway, do you think Shooting Star will tell Fez you hit her?" 

Dipper wrung his hands together nervously. He and Mabel had never been in a situation like this before, where one twin had seriously hurt the other. They'd never argued badly enough for them to truly hurt each other. Dipper's heart broke at the thought that that had changed. 

"Will she ever forgive me, Bill?" he mumbled, pressing his face into his knees. 

Bill laughed. "Silly Pine Tree. With my powers, you can make her forgive you." 

"I would rather let her decide that on her own," Dipper said, revolted by the idea of manipulating his sister's mind. She should have control over her own decisions. It was the greatest gift Dipper could give her, the one thing he lacked. The one thing he used to wish to possess again even for just a moment. But for Bill, even a moment was too great a risk. "Are there any other rooms in the Shack?" he asked, hoping for a positive answer. He didn't see how Mabel would want to be in the same room as him after he'd hit her. Another pang of guilt struck his chest.

"Fez blocked off Sixer's room a long time ago, but I remember where it is. Fair warning: Fordsy liked to keep his experiments laying around," Bill said. 

"Great." Dipper didn't feel like anything was great. "Let's go find it." 

___

Stanford's former room was hidden expertly behind a large bookcase in a back area of the Shack. Dipper moved the bookcase aside with his amulet and came face to face with a delicately intricate carved door. The wood was clean and bright despite years behind a bookcase, and Dipper admired the patterns a bit before twisting the knob to open the door. He coughed as his feet stirred up the thick coating of dust on the floor; the room itself was not as pristine as the door. A large rectangular rug covered most of the floor, its color a sharp light blue and yellow. Dipper spotted a tag on the edge of the rug and leaned down to read it. 

Experiment 78. Bill hadn't been lying when he said Stanford kept his experiments in his room. Strange, though, why he would do such a thing. Wouldn't there be a chance of the experiment backfiring on him? What did the rug even do? Dipper walked around the edge of the rug, examining the room closely. Light shone into the room from a thin window above the couch, reflecting on a prism sitting on top of a shelf. A pair of glasses sat under a calendar opened to June, 1982. Dipper guessed Stanford had fallen to the portal sometime in that month, in that year. A golden key, its handle warped, hung on a hook, waiting to be picked up. The metal was warm, most likely because of the sweltering heat of the summer. Dipper twirled the key in his hand for a few moments, memorizing the layout of the room. It was a decently sized space for one person; Mabel might like it, especially if she invited her friends over at one point. He was honestly surprised she hadn't done so yet. 

"Grunkle Stan!" he shouted as he shut the door behind him. "Grunkle Stan! I found a mysterious room in the Shack!" 

"What? Impossible! Check again!" Stan called back. Dipper headed in the direction his grunkle's voice was coming from and found him and Mabel sitting on the floor in the living room, watching TV. Mabel looked miserable, her hair messy and eyes red, and she pressed an ice bag to her cheek. Dipper's triumph squelched into nothing, and he fiddled with the key nervously. She hadn't said anything to Stan, right?

"No, I really did find a room." Dipper held up the key as proof of his discovery. Stan's eyebrows raised in surprise, but Mabel half-laughed half-cried despondently. 

"Let me guess. You're the one who gets the new room?" 

"Actually, I wanted to give it to you," Dipper said, holding out the key toward his sister. Mabel's jaw dropped, and she met Dipper's eyes, her own filled with uncertainty and cautious hope. Then she shook her head. 

"No, no, you can have it." 

"No, it's yours." 

"You're the one who found it!" 

"I'd rather have the attic." 

"Well so would I!" 

"Fight, fight, fight!" Stan chanted, interrupting Mabel and Dipper's squabble as it grew heated. Both twins fell quiet, giving Stan a weird look. Stan coughed awkwardly and took the key from Dipper without his consent. "Clearly you kids aren't ever going to work out an agreement on your own. Since you two seem determined to stay in the attic, I'll give the key to whichever one of you I like most, and that person stays in the attic." 

"What?" Dipper cried, crossing his arms in indignation. "That's not fair at all! Why doesn't the winner get the new room?" 

"Because both of you want the attic, so I think it's better if the winner makes the loser have the room." Stan grinned and pocketed the key. He untied one of his shoes and tapped it on the ground. "Oh, no, my shoe's untied!" 

"Are you seriously going to let him push you around?" Bill asked in disbelief as Mabel threw herself at Stan's shoes. 

If I lose, I won't stay in the attic! Dipper responded as he, too, dove for Stan's shoes. Stan laughed and backed toward the kitchen, the twins scrambling to follow. 

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" Stan chanted again. 

Dipper's body halted, and Dipper blinked to find himself in the backseat of his mind. Bill had taken control. It was a weird sensation, like watching through a TV except it was through his own eyes. He was in his mindscape, yet he could feel, see, and hear everything going on in reality. Bill dusted off his shirt and glared at Stan. 

"I am not going to suck up to you just for a room," he stated firmly. 

"Not trying at all. Minus fifteen suck up points!" Stan said cheerfully. 

"Good call, Grunkle Stan!" Mabel gave a thumbs up. Her other hand continued to press the ice pack to her cheek, which had colored purple at some point. 

"Trying way too hard. Plus fifty suck up points!" 

"Hey, nobody bends the rules here except me, got it, you old sicko!" Bill snapped, furious at Stan's unfair rules. Dipper stifled a chuckle. Seems Bill didn't know how to take his own medicine. 

"Insulting and yelling at me?" Stan beamed, placing a hand to his heart proudly. "I like your guts, kid. Plus one hundred suck up points!" 

"One hundred?" Mabel cried, astounded. "For insulting you? Why?" 

Bill grinned and clapped his hands together. "Never mind. I like this game." He laughed and elbowed Mabel in the ribs. Hard. She winced and stepped away, fear briefly flashing in her eyes. "You're going down, Sh- Mabel." 

Maybe I should handle the talking , Dipper suggested. He stumbled a bit as he regained control of every muscle in his body. He doubted he would ever get used to the weird sensation. 

"Now who wants to tile the roof in 105 degree heat?" Stan asked, bringing out a bucket filled to the brim with wood planks. 

Dipper and Mabel jumped up and down, waving desperately for the bucket. "Me, me! No, me!" Dipper grabbed the bucket and hauled out of the kitchen as fast as his legs could carry him and the weight in his arms. Mabel followed him closely, eyes locked on the bucket. They tumbled in the yard, kicking and screaming and fighting. Dipper tried to be gentle, seeing as he'd already bruised Mabel and still regretted it, but Mabel attacked him like he'd taken her most prized possession. 

Bill took control again to kick Mabel in the stomach. Mabel landed on the ground with a loud thump, clutching her stomach in pain. Bill wrangled the amulet out of Dipper's bunched up pocket and activated it. 

"Have fun catching up now, sister!" Bill called mockingly as he lifted himself and the bucket of wood onto the roof. 

"No fair! That's cheating!" Mabel huffed, brushing her dirty hair out of her face. The ice pack had been abandoned, and the large purple bruise swelling on her cheek stood out. 

"Rules are meant to be broken!" Bill picked up a piece of wood and purposefully gave himself a splinter. "You're never going to win if you continue being a pushover!" He dropped the hammer on his foot, and agony flared in Dipper's big toe. Bill laughed quietly as Mabel stood still below on the grass, tapping her foot on the ground impatiently as she figured out her next move. 

"Oh, yeah?" Mabel suddenly yelled at Bill. "I'll show you I can win without cheating!" She darted into the porch, out of sight. 

Bill brushed Dipper's bangs out of his face and chuckled. "Oh, Shooting Star. When will you learn to quit?" 

You ask for too much , Dipper said. 

The sound of grunting drew their attention away from the roof. Bill peered over the side of the roof and nearly dropped the hammer on his foot again as Mabel appeared below, dragging a heavy metal object twice her size with her. Her sweater was tied around her waist, and her face twisted with exertion as she hefted the object to its standing position. The object was rusty and creaked with age, but it was obvious what it was. A ladder. 

Bill rolled his eyes as Mabel pushed the ladder to lean against the roof. "Geez, didn't think you'd waste time and energy to prove me wrong. Not that you did. My point still stands." He turned back to the plank he'd been nailing in (very badly, of course, meaning Dipper's fingers were scratched by nail ends) and pushed Dipper back in control. 

"See, Dipper?" Mabel panted triumphantly as she heaved herself onto the roof. "I can earn Stan's approval without magic! He gave me twenty suck up points for almost breaking my back for him!" 

Dipper wiped his bloody fingers on his shorts and shook his head in exasperation. "Twenty more points isn't going to break my one hundred- no, eighty five- point lead on you. I'm still going to win, magic or no magic." He decisively hammered a nail in and glanced at Mabel's cheek. He opened his mouth to apologize, but she'd already taken up a couple of planks and a hammer and set to work immediately. Eyes downcast, Dipper forcefully pushed a nail into the planks, hardly wincing as a splinter drove deeper into his skin. 

Since he'd started working before Mabel, Dipper finished first and left her on the roof to suffer in the blazing sunshine. Stan lounged on the porch couch, drinking a glass of lemonade as he waited for the twins to finish with the roof. Dipper plopped down on the couch next to him. 

"I finished with the roof," he told Stan. 

"Already?" Stan played with the ice in his glass with his straw. "Hmmm. Let's see. What to make you suffer through next... Why don't you go vacuum that ugly rug in the new room? It's dusty as heck in there." He sighed in content as he took a long sip of his ice cold lemonade. 

"Sure thing, Grunkle Stan!" Dipper bounced to his feet and ran inside, wiping the sweat off his forehead as he did so. 

"Vacuum? That was the worst he could come up with?" Bill laughed. "Hey, let's take all the easy tasks and make Shooting Star do all the hard ones!" 

Dipper rolled the vacuum to the new room and wrinkled his nose as the smell of dusty furniture wafted out of the door. The rug was as harshly bright as before, and vacuuming it might worsen its ugliness. Still, he had to suck up to Stan to win the competition. He sat down on the couch and removed his shoes. 

"At this rate, we'll win in no time," he said, rubbing his feet on the soft rug. He'd expected it to be coarse and uncomfortable, but the rug's softness was soothing on his aching feet. Crouching for an hour really hurt. 

"Uh, I don't think you should rub your feet in that," Bill warned, eyeing the rug apprehensively. "If it's what I think it is..." 

"Would Great Uncle Stanford really put something dangerous in his room?" Dipper asked, internally squealing as he referred to the author as his great uncle. 

"Oh, definitely. He was never one to think safety above research." 

Well, that wasn't reassuring. "But surely if this rug was dangerous it wouldn't be put across the floor!" Dipper stood up and reached to pick up the vacuum. 

Bill remained silent. Dipper brushed aside his nervousness and was about to press the power button when Mabel walked in, her face gleaming with sweat. She stopped on the rug and put her hands on her hips, smiling smugly. 

"Guess what, brother? I just made Stan an omelet in the shape of his own face!" she said. "Good luck beating that!" 

"I wouldn't be so sure," Dipper tsked, setting down the vacuum and facing Mabel. "I've already got the lead, remember?" 

"Pssh! I'll catch up in no time," Mabel scoffed, beginning to circle Dipper. Dipper mimicked her motion, and soon they were circling each other like they were about to start an old fashioned cowboy duel. "Especially if I tell Stan you hit me." 

Dipper froze. "You wouldn't," he said, but inside he doubted it. "That's cheating." 

"If you can cheat, so can I!" Mabel declared. "In fact, I'm going to go tell him right now!" She turned, a foot lifting to take a step forward. She yelped as she was dragged back onto the rug by a violent blue glow. 

"Did you really think I'd let you tattle on me so easily?" Bill sneered as he threw Mabel onto the ground with the amulet's magic. "Like I said before, the only one who gets to bend the rules here is me." 

"Meanie!" Mabel yelled, sticking her tongue out at him. She rose to her feet and pushed Dipper. As it turned out, making any sort of contact was a horrible mistake. Bolts of lightning had gathered around both twins as they moved across the carpet, and the lightning arched into each of them as they made contact. A bright flash of light threw them away from each other, and they could see nothing but darkness for a few seconds as the world tilted.

Dipper groaned as he rubbed a sore spot on his head. His cheek flared in pain, and his arm felt insulted by warm wool. "Ugh, what happened?" he muttered, sitting up and feeling something trail down his back. "Mabel..." His voice trailed off as he fully opened his eyes, coming face to face with- 

"Dipper? Why are you wearing my clothes?" Dipper's body asked from across him, also sitting up off the rug. "And my... face?" 

Bill's image appeared and flitted anxiously around Dipper's head. "Bad news, Pine Tree. We switched bodies with Shooting Star." 

"WHAT?" Dipper screamed, falling back onto the rug in shock. Across from him, his body tugged at his hair, face twisting in fear. Dipper spotted a set of three mirrors and darted over to them, blood rushing in his ears. 

Mabel stared back in the mirror, jaw dropped and eyes wide with fear. Strangely enough, her hair was more ruffled than normal and eyebags sagged under her eyes. Dipper reached up to touch his hurting cheek, and the Mabel in the mirror did the same. Behind him, his own body ran around in circles, screaming loudly. Dipper joined in the screaming and ran into a corner, pulling his knees up and quivering in terror. 

"This can't be happening, this can't be happening!" he yelled, unable to handle seeing Mabel's pink heart patterned sweater on himself. His scalp and skin felt so clean, it was so... wrong. He shuddered. "Bill, how do we fix this?" he cried, resisting the urge to pull at Mabel's long hair. The waves of hair falling across his shoulders was so unnatural. How did she live with this? And braces... Eugh. 

Immediately Bill took control; he stretched Mabel's aching arms and cracked his knuckles. "Fret not, Pine Tree. I know exactly how to fix this mess." He leaned down and brushed Mabel's hands across the rug. 

Dipper's body ran out of the bathroom, almost hyperventilating from panic. "Dipper, what's going on? And- and why are you so sweaty and gross?" Who he assumed was Mabel picked at his shirt, curling her lip in disgust. 

Blue sparks crackled across Mabel's hands as Bill stood up. "It's an electron carpet," he explained, wiggling Mabel's fingers as static electricity sparkled around her- his?- fingers. He pushed Dipper back in control, and Dipper stared in amazement at the rug. 

"Atoms can swap electrons. This carpet must build up a static charge so powerful it can swap minds!" Dipper pulled out a pen and clicked the end rapidly as his brain spiraled with theories and guesses. He held out his hand. "I guess we have to touch to switch back." 

Mabel began to reach out, but she hesitated, her gaze falling onto Dipper's pocket where the amulet rested. Dipper tensed as she pulled out the amulet, dangling it on the string. 

"Wait. If I'm you, I can sabotage your chances of winning!" she said. 

"Don't you dare!" Dipper snapped, balling Mabel's hands into fists. "Give me that back!" 

"Nope!" Mabel danced away as Dipper tried to grab his amulet, sticking her tongue out at him. "You've used it enough already. I might as well have a turn with it!" 

"That's mine!" Bill snarled, taking over and leaping at Mabel. She dodged, stumbling on Dipper's weak legs. She raced out of the room, shutting the door behind her to slow Dipper down if he tried to follow. "DANG IT! I HATE THAT STUPID GIRL!" He grabbed the vacuum and threw it at one of the mirrors, shattering the glass into a hundred pieces. The shards scattered across the floor, shimmering in the sunlight. 

How do we get her back down here? Dipper asked. They couldn't let Mabel win, not when they'd put so much effort into gaining Stan's favor. 

Mabel's shoulders heaved as Bill began to laugh, the slits in his eyes lengthening. "Shooting Star's a fool if she thinks she can win. She wants to sabotage us? Well, we'll just sabotage her, too. And I don't need magic to cause chaos!" He flipped Mabel's hair over her shoulder and rolled up her sleeves. "Tell me, Pine Tree... does Fez own a flamethrower?" 

___

The delicious taste of a freshly cooked omelet burst on Stan's tongue as he popped a forkful of the egg based meal into his mouth. The omelet shaped like his face truly was the greatest food he'd ever consumed, and Stan made sure to savor every last bite. His knife and fork scraped against the plate as he cut the penultimate bite of the tasty treat, licking his lips hungrily. Mabel deserved an award for cooking such a scrumptious and handsome meal. 

"These cannibals are on to something. I taste delicious!" he exclaimed, lifting the piece of omelet skewered on his fork to his mouth. 

"OOOHH, GRUNKLE STAAAAN!" Mabel suddenly sing-songed from across the Shack. Stan nearly choked on his omelet at the sudden amount of noise that followed his niece's voice. Glass shattering, wood cracking, Mabel's high-pitched laughter. The girl in question skipped into the kitchen a few moments later, grinning so widely that Stan could count all of her teeth. "I have a surpriiiise!" She blinked her eyes one at a time, which was really creepy, but Stan brushed it off as Mabel being her usual weird self. 

"I doubt it will beat this omelet, but hey, life's got tricks up its sleeves," Stan said, moving his plate aside. He noticed that Mabel had tied her hair up in a messy ponytail with a couple of strands tangled in the hair tie. She seemed unbothered by her unkempt hair, so Stan didn't question it even though Mabel never wore her hair up. "So. Does it have to do with whatever you're hiding behind your back?" He pointedly tried to look behind Mabel. 

"Now, now, Fez, don't spoil the fun!" Mabel laughed as she shuffled to keep the surprise out of sight. "You might hurt my feelings. Haha!" 

Fez? That was new. Stan wasn't sure what to make of that nickname. "Just messing with you, sweetie," he said. 

Mabel slowly brought the hidden surprise out from behind her back. She presented a carefully wrapped box to Stan; a neat little yellow bow was tied on the top of the box. Stan took the striped gift from Mabel and rubbed his hands together excitedly. 

"A mystery gift! I like the way you think, Mabel!" he said approvingly. 

"Yes. A gift," Mabel said then laughed very obnoxiously. Stan cleaned his ear out, frowning, as he swore he heard something wrong with Mabel's laugh. For a split second, he'd thought he'd heard a high-pitched voice that echoed. Nah, it was probably nothing. Just his old ears playing tricks on him again. 

Stan eagerly unwrapped the present, sending the wrapping paper cascading to the floor in a colorful waterfall. The paper had been wrapped around a classic cardboard box, and Stan's forehead wrinkled in concern as a muffled shout came from inside the box. He shot a questioning look at Mabel, but his niece only grinned wider and gestured for him to open the box. Suddenly feeling cold and not understanding why, Stan opened the box. 

"AAAAH!" he screamed, dropping the box. 

"AAAAH!" screamed the tiny man with a pointed hat and a brown beard from inside the box. 

"Do you like it, Grunkle Stan?" Mabel asked, her eyes bright with delight. "I caught it specifically for you! I was actually going to make him into a pie first, but I realized you might not like eating a whole gnome cooked alive with a pastry shell." 

Stan barely understood the words coming out of Mabel's mouth, he was so terrified. He clutched at his chest and caught his breath as the gnome scrambled out of the box, equally as terrified. The gnome limped toward the window, blood dripping from a large stab wound on his leg. Mabel climbed onto Dipper's usual chair and seized the gnome by the beard. 

"And where do you think you're going, Jeff?" she asked, tilting her head in playful confusion. "You still haven't repaid your debt." 

The gnome, Jeff, pushed at Mabel's hands in an attempt to free himself, but she tugged at his beard, eliciting a cry of pain from the gnome. Stan rubbed his eyes, convinced he was trapped in a nightmare. 

"We-we're sorry, okay?" Jeff cried, tears beginning to trickle from the corners of his eyes. "We know you're not going to be our queen. We've moved on, I swear!" 

Mabel tensed, her eyes flicking to the kitchen doorway. Stan and Jeff followed her gaze, confused and wondering what she heard. Mabel released Jeff's beard, and the gnome quickly fled, leaving a trail of blood behind him. He hopped out of the window just as Dipper appeared in the doorway. 

"Grunkle Stan, I just drew unicorns all over your office!" he announced, holding a glittery pink marker over his head. "And your clothes, too!" 

The grin disappeared from Mabel's face, and she rubbed her cheeks, favoring the bruised one. Stan stayed still in his chair, looking between the twins. 

"Well I just gave him a live gnome," Mabel said, crossing her arms and glaring at Dipper. "How are you going to beat that, Ma- Dipper?" 

"I... think I need some fresh air," Stan announced, pushing his chair away from the table. He abandoned the room and safely made it outside before the twins broke out into a fight. 

___

"Face it, Mabel. He's sure to dock all your points after I kidnapped and tortured a gnome," Dipper said, smirking smugly at his sister as she gaped at him, dumbfounded. "Drawing on his stuff is only going to give you a slap on the wrist, I'm afraid." 

Mabel, contrary to his expectations, merely looked intrigued as she gazed at him. Dipper awkwardly glanced to the side; he'd been expecting a horrified reaction and some yelling, not silence. In fact, she looked... thoughtful? 

"I look good with a ponytail," she said eventually, examining the messy tail Bill had tied Mabel's hair in. "Maybe I should wear it like that more often." 

"Uh... good for you?" Dipper pointed at the doorway. "Can I leave now? Bill and I need to commit arson in the gift shop." 

Mabel's expression soured. "Since when did you and Bill do things together?" She spat out Bill's name like he was a disease. Not a bad comparison, to be honest. 

"Technically since the day he entered my mind," Dipper pointed out. "I can't do anything without him being there since, you know, he's stuck." 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Mabel grumbled, half-heartedly kicking the oven. "But what the heck is arson?" 

"Not telling you!" Bill laughed, running past her through the doorway. Mabel turned to stop him, but her body was already gone by the time she peered out of the doorway. The ponytail bounced across Mabel's shoulders as Bill ran into the gift shop. Wendy sat at the counter, reading a magazine. 

Be careful with the flamethrower. I don't want to live in a pile of ashes for the rest of the summer , Dipper warned. Bill scoffed and dismissed his concerns as he tugged the flamethrower out of hiding from under a pile of T-shirts. 

"Relax, Pine Tree. I know when not to go overboard." 

No. You don't , Dipper denied. 

Bill aimed the flamethrower at a rack of clothes and switched the machine on. Fire roared from inside and engulfed the thin fabric, sparks flying in the air as the shirt burnt. The flames spread fast, fueled by the summer heat, and soon the entire rack was ablaze. Work complete, Bill tossed the flamethrower aside and strolled over to Wendy. She was too absorbed in her magazine to notice the flaming shirts, though her nose twitched; she must smell the smoke beginning to rise from the flames. 

"Hey, Ice," Bill said, leaning on the counter casually. "The question mark shirts are on fire." 

Wendy dropped her magazine and gasped at the burning shirts. "Crap!" She grabbed the bottle of water beside her and rushed to the rack. "Mabel, go get water! We need to put this out before it spreads!" 

"Of course I'll help!" Bill snickered, backing out of the gift shop. "Oh dear brother of mine, Wendy needs your assistance!" he shouted to Mabel, wherever she may be. Once out of Wendy's line of sight, he scurried to the front door where he and Dipper had last seen Stan. As soon as he got to the door, the doorbell rang. 

Who could that be ? Dipper wondered. As far as he was aware, Stan was expecting no one since the suffocating heat slowed business down. Turns out nobody likes going on tours when the weather is hotter than one hundred degrees. 

"Fez?" Bill guessed, preparing to open the door. 

Wouldn't he just open the door? This is literally his house! Kind of . 

"Alright, who's there?" Bill demanded, aggressively swinging the door open. Two girls pounced on him, pulling him into hugs and squealing at pitches humans shouldn't hear. Dipper immediately found himself back in control, Bill being too cowardly to handle Mabel's friends. 

"Woah, Mabel, what happened to your hair?" Grenda gasped in horror once she and Candy had let Dipper go. "You look like you fell into a pit! And what happened to your cheek?" Candy nodded seriously from beside her. 

Dipper laughed nervously and rubbed the back of Mabel's neck, unsure how to respond. He'd only met Candy and Grenda once, and their first interaction ended with him mauling a man and slaughtering a candy monster. So they didn't have the best first impressions. 

"Stairs can be really nasty sometimes," he lied, suppressing the guilt threatening to rise as he remembered slapping Mabel. "So, uh, what are you guys doing here?" 

"We're having a sleepover, remember?" Candy said, bringing Dipper's attention to the rolled up sleeping bags the girls clutched under their arms. The blood drained from Dipper's face, and he could feel Bill's fear as strongly as his own. He knew what girl sleepovers entailed. Makeup. Romance novels. Dating games. 

Dipper caught a glimpse of Mabel in his body by the stairs as Grenda carried him up the stairs. "Mabel, help me!" he begged, reaching for his sister. 

"Wait, guys!" Mabel cried, running after her crazed friends as they took Dipper prisoner. Dipper's knees went weak when Candy rummaged through her bag and pulled out a romance board game. Mabel tried to run in after him, but Grenda blocked the doorway to the attic, halting Mabel in her tracks. "Can I, uh, talk to my sister for a bit?" Mabel asked, craning her neck to peer over Grenda's high shoulders. 

"Nuh-uh. No boys allowed!" Grenda slammed the door in Mabel's face, ignoring Mabel's splutters of protest. She turned back to Dipper and Candy, eyeing the bruise on Mabel's cheek critically. "Ready for a makeover, Mabel?" 

Dipper paled and dove for his bed, hiding under his covers. "What do we do?" he whispered to Bill. "Mabel's going to be more suspicious if we hurt her friends!" 

Bill grinned and cracked Mabel's knuckles. "What Shooting Star doesn't know won't hurt her." He whipped the covers off himself and faced Grenda and Candy. "Hey, girls, did you see the bags under Dipper's eyes?" 

Candy and Grenda nodded. "He looked like a raccoon," Candy said. 

Gee, thanks , Dipper muttered, offended. 

"He could use a little makeover," Bill continued, smiling as sincerely as he could. "Wouldn't you agree?" 

Candy and Grenda clapped in approval at Bill's idea. Dipper sighed, realizing the sacrifice he had to make to switch back into his own body. Oh well. He would wash it off afterward. 

"Do you know where he went?" Grenda asked as she and Candy gathered the makeover supplies. 

"Good question," Bill said, tugging painfully at the ponytail Mabel's hair was tied up in. "Let's go look for him. Between the three of us, we'll find him in no time." 

And so they set off to trek through the Shack, searching every nook and cranny for Mabel. Dipper, now back in control of Mabel's body, checked Mabel's usual hiding spots first. In the kitchen, nope. Under Stan's poorly made exhibitions, nope. The girls and Dipper didn't even encounter Stan once, though Dipper smelled smoke as he passed the gift shop. Had Wendy quenched the fire or had it spread? Surely the fire alarm would have gone off if the fire had worsened. Dipper cracked open the door to check if Stan or Mabel were helping Wendy put out the fire, and all he saw was Wendy tossing a pile of charred question mark shirts in the trash. He stifled an amused chuckle at the destruction and quietly shut the door. His oblivious minions behind him, he resumed his search for his delinquent sister. She had stolen something of his, after all. Multiple things. As the trio approached Stan's office, the door creaked open, and Mabel stepped out. 

"Hide the makeup!" Dipper ordered Grenda and Candy, stepping forward to block Mabel's friends from view. He faked a smile and faced his sister, noting her dejected look. Had something bad- other than the fire- happened? "Hey, Ma- Dipper." 

Mabel looked up, becoming more dejected when she saw Dipper in front of her. "It's over, Dipper. You won the competition." She held out the key with a disappointed sigh. 

Dipper's smile turned genuine. "Haha! Yes!" he cheered, lifting his arms in victory. One of his feet rose with his arms, and a rush of awkwardness overtook him as he realized how Mabel-like he looked. He coughed to cover his embarrassment as he pushed Mabel's foot down. It must have been her body's natural reaction, he was sure. "Anyway. Girls!" He snapped his fingers, and Candy and Grenda emerged from behind him, giggling hysterically. "Grab him!" 

Mabel froze in surprise as Candy and Grenda seized her by the arms. "What? Wait, girls, no, it's me! I'm Mabel!" She struggled in their grasp, the key almost clattering to the ground. 

Dipper snatched it from her with a triumphant grin. "Follow me," he told Candy and Grenda. "I know exactly where to beautify my brother." He led them through the Shack again, this time accompanied by Mabel's squeaky protests. Man, he never realized how squeaky his voice was. Had it always been that way? He grimaced. He flung open the door to Stanford's former room and sat down on the carpet, patting the space next to him. Candy and Grenda placed Mabel there and uncapped a tube of lipstick. 

While Mabel squirmed under the undesired makeover attack, Dipper built up static electricity in his feet by rubbing them vigorously through the blue and yellow strands. Finally, Grenda and Candy stepped back, allowing Dipper to add the final touch to his powdered face; he hoped it would be easy to rub off. Dipper booped Mabel on the nose, and the static electricity he'd built in her body sparked between the twins, coursing through their bodies and creating a flash that blinded everyone in the room. When it faded, Dipper opened his eyes to see Mabel's body across from him, now inhabited by Mabel judging by the way she moved. He sighed in relief at being back in his own body; it was just as underwhelming as he remembered. He wiped the make up off his face and stood up, pocketing the key beside the amulet.

"What just happened?" Grenda asked, bewildered by the flash of light coming from the twins. 

Mabel sighed and tugged her hair out of the ponytail, wincing as the hair tie ripped out several strands of hair. "I wish I knew. Ow! Dipper, do you not know how to tie hair?" She rubbed the back of her head in an attempt to soothe the harsh pain. 

Dipper opened his mouth to respond that, no he didn't know how to tie hair, when Waddles suddenly leapt into the room, screaming wildly. Following him was Fiddleford McGucket, clutching a knife and fork and slobbering like a rabid hound. One of his arms was wrapped in a thick cast, most likely from when Dipper had broken his arm. Dipper automatically reached for his amulet at McGucket's unexpected entrance, but the old man and Waddles dashed right onto the body switching rug. Sparks ran across their bodies, and Dipper and Mabel simultaneously gasped in horror as the pair charged straight into the kids, causing another flash of light to engulf the room.

"Oh, come on!" Dipper complained in Grenda's body. "We literally just swapped back!" He crossed his arms and was surprised to find them muscular and strong. "But it's nice having muscles." 

"Wow, I have teeny tiny doll hands!" Grenda said in Mabel's body, stretching out her hands and flexing her fingers. 

"Dudes, this is weird," Soos said, flicking McGucket's beard anxiously. "My arm feels all tingly and numb!" He flexed McGucket's injured arm and inhaled sharply at the pain. 

Mabel-Candy huffed and scowled at Dipper-Grenda. "Blame Dipper. He's the one who broke McGucket's arm." 

"Being in his body won't make me go cray-cray, will it?" Candy in Dipper's body asked worriedly, looking down at herself in apprehension. 

"I'm not cray-cray!" Dipper snapped. "What in the world made you think that?" 

"No, no, she's right," Bill said in his mind. 

"Yeehaw! I'm a pig!" McGucket cheered as he kicked Waddles' legs out in a silly dance. Everyone in the room turned a deadpanned look on the pig swapped with a crazy old man. He began to snort loudly and rolled across the carpet, sparks arching across the fat pink body. 

"I'm going to roast that man!" Bill announced, coming into control. He took a step toward pig McGucket, reaching down to pick up the old man's abandoned fork and knife. 

"No!" Mabel cried, tackling him away from the pig. Bill grunted as he landed on the carpet, surprised by the amount of strength in Candy's body. Too bad Grenda's was stronger. He wrapped his hands around her throat and tossed Mabel aside like she weighed nothing. 

"Woah, dudes, calm down!" Soos fretted, walking over to the fighting children. "We're all friends, remem-" 

"No one asked for your opinion, Soos!" Dipper yelled as he pushed Mabel straight into the rolling McGucket-pig. Mabel oinked in shock as Waddles' body slowed to a stop, her little pig eyes focusing on Dipper. McGucket started to jig in Candy's body, overjoyed by his regained innocence. 

Soos drew back and stayed silent, looking around hopefully for his own body. Dipper ran toward his body, and with another flash of blue light he was back where he belonged. Dipper sighed in relief as he patted his pockets to ensure his belongings were safe. While the others ran around like chickens with their heads cut off, Dipper hurried to the door, eager to get as far away as he could from the chaos on the rug. At that moment, two police officers stepped into the room, their expressions stern. 

"We overheard reports of excessive giggling," Sheriff Blubs stated, his eyes unnoticeable through his thick dark sunglasses. Sunglasses like those would be useful in hiding Bill's possession from others. 

Dipper stood in front of the officers, hoping to block some of the mess going on behind him. "Nothing to see, officers!" he laughed nervously. "Just some messing around, you know." As he finished speaking, someone bumped his shoulder, and another flash of light blinded not just him but the police officers as well. Dipper opened his eyes and looked down to see a police uniform. 

"You've got to be kidding me!" Bill bemoaned. "Why didn't you just walk past them?" 

"How was I supposed to know someone would bump into me?" Dipper snapped, irritation making him forget other people were nearby to see him speak to thin air. "I can't see the future!" 

"Use your eyes! That's what you meat sacks use vision for!" Bill pointedly tapped his single eye, narrowing it angrily. 

Dipper marched back out into the warzone on the rug, shielding his eyes from the flashes of light bursting in every direction. Another person bumped into him, and he found himself in Waddles' body, low to the ground. Perfect! His short stature was fit for sneaking through the chaos around him. He avoided Mabel's foot, which nearly stepped on his tail, and wondered who that could be. He searched for his body, wincing at the light hurting his eyes with every step. Too much was going on; Waddles' smaller heart beat faster as the noise overwhelmed Dipper. He resisted the urge to drop to the floor and curl into a ball; stupid pig instincts! Eventually he spotted his signature blue hat and practically tackled his body to the floor. The flashes of light merged together into a blinding wave, and Dipper cracked open his eyes cautiously. 

He could feel the journal weighing down his jacket. Good. His hat was still on his head. Good. Nobody was running around giggling madly anymore. Good. He sat up, head spinning with exhaustion from different hosts constantly being traded. A pink sweater moved beside him, and he looked over to see Mabel beside him. He scooted away, his nerves firing with alarm. 

"Are you you?" he asked warily, sliding his hand into his pocket and wrapping his fingers around the cool blue stone. 

Mabel rubbed her bruised cheek and half-smiled. "Yeah," she said, "I'm me." 

"Well, I've got the key." Dipper held up the key and smirked.

Mabel's eyes narrowed in focus as she made a move for the key. Dipper pushed her back with the amulet's magic and raced out of the room, past the confused and recovering people spread across the rug. Footsteps echoed in the hall after Dipper, and he ran for the attic, the room that was only his now. He threw open the door and kicked the disgusting romance board games at Mabel, who had reached the doorway and was panting. To his surprise, Mabel dodged the flying board games and tackled Dipper to the ground like they were playing football. The amulet fell out of his pocket and skidded across the floor, too far for Dipper to grab it. Mabel tugged the key from Dipper's hand, and Dipper tried to grab it. 

"Stop it, Mabel!" he shouted. "I already won, just accept it!" 

"Why do you want separate rooms?" Mabel demanded, holding the key high above Dipper's reach. "Did I do something wrong?" 

"Of course not! It's to keep you safe from me!" Dipper yelled, straining for the key. He hadn't been paying attention to the words spilling out of his mouth. His thoughts had been too focused on the key to fully understand what he'd just revealed to his sister. 

Mabel's expression shifted into dismay. "What do you mean, 'keep you safe from me?'" she echoed, her fingers going limp around the key. 

"Pine Tree," Bill said at the same time. "You're treading dangerous waters here." 

Dipper's struggles for the key ceased as he gulped nervously. "Well, uh... I... um..." He fidgeted uncomfortably on the ground. "Uh... That!" he exclaimed, pointing at Mabel's bruised cheek. "I've already hurt you, and I decided it would be better if we had separate rooms so I can't hurt you again!" He nodded. "That's what I meant. And I might hurt you again if you don't get off me," he added, starting to feel the effects of Mabel's entire body weight resting on him. 

Mabel jumped off so fast he almost didn't notice. She pulled her hair over her bruise and muttered something under her breath that sounded like an apology. Dipper ignored it, though, and picked up his amulet; turning it over, he checked for scratches but found it as pristine and clear as always. Bill sat down on his shoulder, kicking his legs like he was a child on a swing set. 

"I guess I'll just... go then," Mabel mumbled, backing toward the door. Her eyes were downcast, but Dipper could still read the anguish in her tightly set mouth. "Got to-to check up on my friends and the others." She paused in the doorway, her hand clenching the doorknob tightly. She whipped around and ran at Dipper, startling him. He flinched slightly as she wrapped him in a huge hug, feeling tears soak into his shirt. 

"M-Mabel?" he questioned, caught by surprise at the hug he definitely hadn't been expecting. 

"I love you, Dipper," Mabel choked out as she squeezed him tightly. "Remember that, okay? No matter what he makes you do or how much he changes you." She sniffed and let go, turning away and pulling up the neckline of her sweater to cover her eyes. "Good night, Dipper." She slammed the door behind her as she left, leaving an empty silence in her wake. 

Dipper stared at the door for several long quiet minutes, acutely aware of the lack of noise downstairs. His bed's mattress squeaked as he sat down, folding his hands in his lap. He knew he should feel sad or touched by his sister's clear anguish, yet he felt nothing but detached disdain, unimpressed by Mabel's blatant display of weakness. Only fools let themselves be controlled by dumb emotions like love. Sure, Dipper felt concerned for his sister's wellbeing, but she didn't need to cry all over him and nearly choke him to death. Had she no respect for other people's personal space? 

Bill floated off his shoulder and stretched his little black arms, imitating the actual Bill in his mind. "Now that she's out of the way, we can finally prepare to put our plans in motion," he said. "Especially since you're finally ready." He cackled a laugh full of mirth, malevolence, and cruelty. "You won't disobey me ever again, will you, Pine Tree?" 

Dipper rested his head on his hands. "Of course not," he said without a shadow of a doubt. Silly past him, thinking he could resist a being as powerful as Bill. 

He could feel Bill's satisfaction blooming like a poisonous flower in his mind. "I think you should take a quick nap," he said. "Today's been way more exhausting than it should have been." 

Dipper nodded and carefully placed the amulet and the journal beside his lamp. He glanced over at Mabel's bed and smiled. Chaotic as it was, he had no regrets about today. After so many days of waiting, everything was finally going the way Bill desired.

Chapter Text

The neat and organized library that had once been Dipper Pines' mindscape was cracked and broken beyond repair. Books containing precious or despised memories drifted aimlessly in the air, lost without shelves to house them. The shelves in question lay in bits and pieces on the cracked triangular tiles that made up the floor. Cat-like eyes gazed around from the scattered remains of the library, and yellow triangles glowed from where they infested the deepest parts of the boy's mind. In the center of the mindscape, the copy of the Mystery Shack appeared to be intact, but the inside told another story. 

The rooms in the Shack were covered in triangles, all with glowing eyes that penetrated deep into the soul. Blood dripped from the walls and ceiling, coming from behind the triangles. The stairs to the attic were pristine, clean of dust and mold. The attic door looked exactly the same it always did; open it and you would find Dipper Pines, sitting in the middle of the room where a triangular window cast a dark shadow across his figure. Nothing else remained in the attic, not his bed nor his sister's. 

Strings dug into every part of his body: his arms, his wrists, his feet, his neck, his torso. The golden threads shone in the darkness of the shadow as they twisted and writhed like worms. His pine tree cap was bent low over his face, covering his eyes from view. He was as still as a statue, waiting for a certain someone to make an appearance. 

Melting out of the triangular window, Bill floated in circles around his puppet, who made no movement at his appearance. He flicked the tip of the cap, and Dipper just stared blankly forward, unresponsive. Bill's eye turned up in a sadistic grin. He summoned his cane and twirled it as he began to sing. 

"No puppet strings can hold me down." 

He poked Dipper's cheek and got no response. 

"So patiently I watch this town." 

He snapped his fingers, and bloody tears started to stream from Dipper's eyes at Bill's command. 

"Abnormal will soon become the norm." 

Dipper's eyes, completely yellow and with slit pupils. 

"Enjoy the calm before the storm." Bill removed Dipper's hat and spun it in his fingers. "Clean yourself up, Pine Tree. You're making the floor all messy and bloody!" he said, ceasing his song. He tossed the hat into the air and caught it again. "How'd you like my song?" 

"Amazing." Dipper's voice was monotone like a robot's. No emotion, no inflection in his tone. He wasn't speaking of his own free will; Bill was talking through him like one does with a sock puppet. 

Bill dropped Dipper's cap back on his head and reclined in the air. "You'll obey my every command, won't you?" he asked and twitched his fingers. 

"I will," Dipper said in the same empty voice. 

Bill tsked and wagged a finger in front of Dipper's blank dead eyes. "With more gusto, Pine Tree. You sound like you can't feel anything." He cackled at the truth. 

"I will!" Dipper insisted, his voice more energetic but lacking the nuance of real human emotion. 

"And you'll kill your sister if I tell you do so?" Bill looked his little puppet in the eyes, searching for any sign of resistance against his control. 

The glowing yellow faded a little as Dipper finally resisted Bill's orders. His mouth opened, but no words came out and it hung there uselessly. Bill closed it, and the strings around Dipper's body tightened, their glow increasing. 

"I will." The small amount of resistance Dipper mustered faded into oblivion as Bill squashed it into the darkest corners of his mind. 

Bill patted Dipper on the head like he was a dog who had done an amazing trick. "Good Pine Tree. I'm glad you understand who's in control here." He pointed at himself and laughed, the sound echoing throughout the mindscape. 

Dipper stared blankly and unseeingly at the triangle, the puppet master with power over the puppets who danced on the stage. A few weeks ago he was on a bus, gazing out the window at rows of evergreen trees and imagining a boring summer spent in the wilderness. All he thought about was how he and his sister would have fun together. Now, his subconscious was empty, awaiting Bill's commands without any care for most of the people he had once loved. Now he was a puppet, ensnared by his strings and a demon who would never let him free.

Chapter Text

A cracked and dull coffee mug revolved slowly in the air above the kitchen table. The vivid turquoise glow illuminated the wooden surface decorated with stray bits of food and casted shadows across the pale dawn light. Beside the mug drifted a bent fork, its tinsels shiny with scarlet blood. Drip, drip, drip, went the blood onto the table, joining the smear on a white placemat. The coffee maker hissed and churned as it prepared a pot of black coffee. A surprise for Stanley. 

Dipper rotated his finger with the mug's revolution, bored as he waited for his grunkle to wake from his seemingly endless slumber. His left arm throbbed in pain from the fresh puncture wounds Bill had created using the fork floating in the air. The pain brought a smile to Dipper's face, but he knew he had to clean the wounds before Stan spotted them. The band-aids replaced the old ones, and Dipper hid them from sight with his blue pine tree sweater. Then he continued to wait, playing with kitchen supplies to keep himself occupied. 

Six days ago, Dipper had offered to help Gideon steal the deed to the Mystery Shack, giving the crazed boy five days to say yes or no. Five days had passed. Gideon had not responded. Bill and Dipper would give him one last chance to agree or disagree, and if he didn't... Well, he would be smart to reply with the correct choice. 

Dipper yawned and brought two of the chairs into the air alongside the mug and fork, forcing the objects to perform a dance. It was like a mini puppet show with kitchen supplies; how fitting. Dipper leaned on his injured arm and felt a new wave of energy course through him at the invigorating pain it caused. His stomach growled in hunger, and his impatience grew. Would it kill Stan to wake up a bit earlier? 

Soft footsteps sounded outside the kitchen, but Dipper didn't get his hopes up. Those footsteps didn't belong to Stan; he stomped around like a bull in a china shop. No, Mabel was the one who was up. She'd been keeping her distance from Dipper just like he'd wanted since they'd swapped bodies, and Dipper had been doing the same. She couldn't be allowed to catch on to Bill's plans, so he barely talked to her unless it was for a quick, simple conversation. No playing. No staying up late whispering about life. Bill was happy to not have to deal with their childish antics, and he made Dipper think so too. 

"Good morning, Mabel," Dipper said as his sister walked into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes sleepily. "Don't ask if breakfast is ready. Stan's not awake yet." 

Mabel closed her mouth, having been about to ask that. She eyed the chairs, mug, and fork in confusion, clearly wondering why Dipper was messing around with the furniture and kitchen utensils. "Is there any particular reason you're making the chairs fly? Cause I'd feel better if my head wasn't at risk of getting knocked off." 

"No, I'm just having fun." Dipper smiled mischievously and drifted a chair closer to Mabel's head. She squeaked in fear and ducked away. "Chill, Mabel. I'm not going to knock you unconscious." He kicked his feet onto the table, hiding the stain on his placemat. 

"Should I even ask why there's blood on that fork?" Mabel asked tiredly, pulling out the only chair not in the air and taking a seat. Her eyes were shadowed by deep eyebags, which had slowly grown over the past two or three days. Bill had not managed to succeed in preventing Dipper from worrying about his sister's sudden bad sleep. 

Dipper stifled a laugh at Mabel's question, though he allowed his lips to turn up in a smile. "No," he said. "You shouldn't. But don't worry. I bandaged it up." He rolled up his sleeve and showed her the single band-aid covering the four bleeding dots on the squishy underside of his arm. 

Mabel frowned, her eyes sparking with worry as she scrutinized the bandage. "You've been hurting yourself?" She sounded horrified. "Dipper, please tell me you're not thinking about-"

Dipper released his sleeve and gave her a reassuring smile. "Not for that reason. Bill just thinks pain is hilarious. He's not used to feeling it, you know." 

"And you're okay with hurting yourself for a demon?" Mabel uttered in disbelief, her worry increasing tenfold. "I'm sorry, bro, but that's sick. Tell him to stop." 

Dipper had to stifle another laugh at her stupidity. Bill pulled the strings, not him. Especially since he was the one controlled by said strings. "Whatever will help you sleep at night," he said, purposefully dropping the fork. It clattered to the hard surface of the table loudly, flinging drops of his blood at Mabel. She shrieked as a tiny drop landed on her hand. She wiped her hand on her nightgown, looking more concerned and horrified than Dipper imagined. 

"What's wrong? Can't handle a little blood?" Bill asked mockingly, taking control and picking up the fork. He spun it in his fingers, scraping it over the skin; to his disappointment, no blood was drawn, the fork leaving nothing but white lines in its wake. "Maybe you need a pick me up. Would you like some coffee?" He spun the coffee mug in the air several times for emphasis. 

"No thanks," Mabel muttered, kicking her feet against the chair to distract herself. "I'm already awake enough." 

Bill pouted and let the mug hang in the air, as still as a statue. "Fiiiine. Be boring. Hey, do you think F-Stan would like shards of porcelain stuck in his brain?" 

Mabel's head snapped up, her eyes widening in shock and revulsion. "Dipper, no! That'd kill him!"

"Pssh, no, it wouldn't- Oh, wait, you're right. It would." Bill sighed and rested his chin on the table. "Guess I'll just die of boredom then. Or not." He cast an amused glance at the coffee pot and quickly looked away before Mabel could turn and see what he was looking at. 

Speaking of Stan, he appeared in the doorway right as Mabel pushed back her chair. Stan paused in the doorway, taken aback by the floating chairs and mug and the presence of Dipper and Mabel. He was wearing his undershirt and shorts, his fez tilting slightly on his head. 

"Oh. You kids are up." He warily approached the table, glancing between the chairs and Dipper. "Would you, uh, mind setting the chairs down, Dipper? I'd rather not eat breakfast while standing." 

"Of course, Grunkle Stan!" Dipper said cheerfully, setting the chairs back in their proper places. The wooden legs scraped against the floor, creating a painful screech that caused Stan and Mabel to clamp their hands over their ears. 

"We should do that again!" Bill said, satisfied by the awful noise. "Probably the worst thing I've ever heard. Also hide the fork and the placemat. He'll get suspicious if he sees blood." 

Dipper did as Bill said and flipped his place mat over when Stan had his back turned. He took the fork and tossed it into the trash can. Mabel noticed him discarding the evidence and gave him a stern look. He smiled innocently, and she rolled her eyes. 

"Candy and Grenda are coming over today, Grunkle Stan," she said, turning her attention to Stan. He had gotten out a large box of pancake mix and was setting a bowl on the counter when Mabel spoke. "We're going to the Sev'ral Timez concert I told you about tonight." She shot a look at Dipper. "Make sure Dipper doesn't burn the house down for me. Please?" 

Dipper raised an eyebrow. "What am I, a toddler?" he snorted. "I don't need to be supervised." 

"Says the guy who intentionally put metal in a microwave the other day!" Mabel snapped. 

Dipper held up his hands defensively. "Hey, it wasn't my idea!" Though Stan's furious face and the destroyed can had been pretty funny. 

"Quit arguing, kids," Stan sighed as he poured pancake mix into the bowl. "I'm tired and would like to cook breakfast without listening to you two squabble." 

Mabel slid down her chair, cheeks flushed. "Sorry, Grunkle Stan," she mumbled in shame. 

"Like we're apologizing to that con," Bill scoffed. Dipper kept his mouth shut but finally set the coffee mug beside Stan. 

"I made coffee for you," he said, gesturing to the whirring coffee machine. The pot was almost full, and the delightful aroma of coffee permeated through the air. He fought a smirk; Stan didn't like his coffee to be as bitter as his personality. 

"Really? Thanks, Dipper. You didn't have to do that," Stan said, approaching the coffee machine. 

"You're welcome. I think you'll like the flavor I picked." Dipper hid a smile behind his hand, Bill laughing uncontrollably in his head. Mabel groaned and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. "I heard a rumor about a strange monster in town, so I'm going to investigate it. If that's okay with you?" 

Stan grunted in agreement. "Sure. Thing's probably not real anyway." The coffee maker beeped loudly to signal it had finished, and Stan poured the steaming coffee into the chipped mug Dipper had been playing with. The steam fogged his glasses, and he wafted it away in annoyance. 

"I haven't heard anything about this monster," Mabel said, giving Dipper a suspicious look. 

"Of course you haven't. We've been cooped up in the Shack for days," Dipper exaggerated. 

"Then how have you?" Mabel shot back, crossing her arms defiantly. 

Dipper's smile slipped off his face as Bill's irritation grew. "What is her problem?" Bill snapped, his exasperation pulsing like lava. "Can she not leave us alone for five minutes?" 

"I have my ways," he said vaguely, hoping it would be enough to satisfy Mabel. Judging by the scowl on her face, it was not. 

"What are you actually going into town for?" Mabel pressed, slapping her hands onto the table. At her feet, Waddles oinked loudly. Mabel picked him up and pointed one of his hooves at Dipper. "Waddles thinks you're doing something bad. And I agree." 

Dipper rolled his eyes, unimpressed. "That's a pig, Mabel. He doesn't think anything." 

Mabel gasped and hugged Waddles tightly to her chest. "Lies! Waddles is the smartest pig in the land. Stan!" She turned and gazed imploringly at their grunkle. "Tell Dipper he's wrong!" 

"He's not," Stan said, his back turned as he poured pancake dough into a pan. "Waddles is a pig, and pigs are dumb. So Waddles is dumb." 

"Actually, pigs are smarter than most animals," Dipper pointed out as Mabel gasped in offense again. "They're still nowhere near as intelligent as humans, though," he added when Mabel shot him a hopeful look. 

"Or me," Bill unnecessarily added. 

Mabel stomped her foot in frustration. "Ugh! Why do I have to live with you jerks?" She faced away from Stan and Dipper, her nose turned up in the air in a good imitation of snobby rich girls from TV. Dipper chuckled in amusement at her childish behavior and forced her back around with the amulet. Mabel's face reddened in anger as she was forced to stare at her twin. The second Dipper let go, she turned her back again, and Dipper forced her around with magic. The process repeated three times, Mabel getting more and more angry with each repetition. "Dipper! Stop it!" she yelled after the fourth time Dipper used the amulet on her. Her entire face was red, and she was breathing heavily from suppressed anger. 

"But it's fuuuun." Dipper grinned mockingly as he poked the amulet pinned to his sweater. He'd taken off the tie part of the amulet and turned it into a button that he could pin on his shirts. The amulet had been a tie for Gideon; for Dipper, it was more useful as a button. The tie looked weird on him anyway. 

Stan paused in flipping a pancake and eyed Dipper weirdly. "You okay, Dipper? You're acting kind of strange. Creepy, even." 

"You're imagining things," Dipper said, waving off his concern. "Are you going to drink the coffee or not?" 

"Okay, okay, fine." Stan picked up his coffee mug and grumbled, "Kids these days. So demanding." He took a swig of his coffee and promptly spat it out. Dipper and Bill burst out laughing as Stan spit out the black coffee, gagging at the bitter taste attacking his taste buds. Stan wheeled to face Dipper, fury burning in his eyes. "What kind of sick joke is this?" he demanded, brandishing the mug at Dipper. 

"A funny one," Dipper said, struggling to contain his laughter. Bill was practically wheezing in his mind despite his lack of lungs. "Not that I intended it to be a joke. I didn't know what type of coffee you liked best, so I grabbed the nearest bag. Guess I should have read the label." He shrugged, smiling. 

"Uh-huh." Stan narrowed his eyes suspiciously but dropped the subject- and the mug- into the sink. He resumed flipping pancakes, occasionally spitting into another mug to rid his mouth of the bitter coffee. 

Mabel rubbed her forehead, sighing deeply. "I hate Bill," she muttered, sounding done with existence. 

The Pines ate their breakfast in silence and as quickly as possible, each determined to start their tasks. Stan rushed off to get ready for tourists while Mabel hurried to her new room to prepare for her friends' visit. Dipper returned to the attic and opened one of his notebooks. In the notebook was a list of names, and beside the names were shapes. One name was crossed out. 

D̶i̶p̶p̶e̶r̶ P̶i̶n̶e̶s̶ 

Dipper scanned the list until he found Gideon Gleeful, right below Robbie Valentino. He took out a pencil and circled Gideon's name; he drew an arrow out into the margins of the paper and wrote "potential pawn". Next to his own name was written "under my control", a note Bill had added when they first made the paper. The list contained every member of the Zodiac, every person who could be used to vanquish Bill from existence. Dipper thickened the line across his own name, a fate other names would soon meet. Gideon's might be scratched out next. Dipper shut the notebook and slid it under his bed. He shoved Journal 3 into his backpack along with a pair of scissors and slung the backpack over his shoulders. 

The town was quiet, most residents cooped up in their homes doing useless things. Dipper was the only person walking through the town, his steps quick and purposeful. He squinted against the violent rays of the sun as he approached Gideon's shockingly small house. He glared at the smiling Gideon on the sign in front of the porch and ripped it in half with the amulet; shreds of paper scattered across Dipper's feet as half of the poster thumped to the ground. Dipper stepped up to the front door and rang the doorbell, tightening his hands around the straps of his backpack. 

"Keep control of your hate, Pine Tree," Bill cautioned, hovering over the welcome mat with his arms crossed behind his back. "He needs to know you won't immediately kill him if we want him to take our deal." 

"Right." Dipper inhaled deeply, trying to calm the dislike coursing in his veins at the thought of speaking to Gideon. "I'll do my best." He rang the doorbell again, irritated by the lack of response. Were the Gleefuls deaf? 

The door opened, the sign nailed to it clattering with the movement, and Bud Gleeful looked around for a few seconds, clearly wondering who had rung the doorbell. Dipper cleared his throat and smiled as warmly as he could as Bud's eyes flicked down to him. Surprise spread across the man's face.

"Hello there, boy. What can I do for you?" Bud asked, faking a generous smile. 

Dipper's hand twitched, longing to reach into his backpack and jab the scissors in this dumb man's eyes. Did he not remember who Dipper was from when Gideon dated Mabel? "I need to speak to Gideon," he said, locking eyes with Bud. 

Bud raised an eyebrow, his friendly expression souring into suspicion. "Gideon never said anything about a friend coming over," he said with a frown. 

Dipper feigned shock, his eyes widening and mouth dropping open. "Really? What a shame. To think he'd reject a business proposal as profitable as mine..." He sighed heavily in fake disappointment and looked at Bud solemnly. "I guess he really doesn't want the Mystery Shack, huh?" 

Bud's expression brightened, his countenance opening up to friendliness again as a smile crossed his face. "A business proposal, you say?" He stepped aside and gestured for Dipper to enter the house. "Come in, come in. I'm sure Gideon will be delighted to speak with you." 

"Thank you, Mr. Gleeful," Dipper said, fighting back a scowl as he entered the house. He remembered only too well the sensation of the carpet rising above him and his sister, the towering presence of Gideon and his family after he'd shrunk them. 

"Have a seat, son," Bud offered, gesturing to a plush couch lined with blankets. Dipper placed his backpack on the floor and sat down. The cushions squished under his weight, and Dipper leaned back into them, enjoying the soft fabric under his head. Across the room, Gideon's mother was vacuuming; she looked scared. "Would you care for a drink or a snack?" 

"No, thank you. I had breakfast a while ago," Dipper denied. He cast a glance at the stairs. "Where's Gideon?" 

"Oh, he's in his room. GIDEON!" Bud called, cupping a hand around his mouth. "GIDEON, THERE'S SOMEONE HERE TO SEE YOU! What's your name, boy?" he asked Dipper. 

Dipper didn't get a chance to remind him as a door slammed from upstairs. Pattering footsteps like mice rushed down the stairs as the most annoying person to ever exist hurried into the living room. Gideon patted his hair as he stepped into the room, dressed in a fluffy light blue bathrobe. 

"Now who could that be- oh." The little blood in Gideon's face drained as his tiny eyes landed on Dipper nestled comfortably in his couch. The boy backed away, raising his hands defensively. "D-Dipper. F-fancy s-see-eeing y-yo-u he-r-e." Gideon wiped his sweaty palms on his robes, practically hyperventilating in fear. 

"What's the matter, Gideon?" Dipper asked in mock concern, straightening his posture. "Something scaring you?" He flicked the amulet pinned to his sweater, and Gideon took another step back. 

"Wh-what d-d-o-o- ahem." Gideon shook his head rapidly to shake off his fear and drew himself up to his full height, which barely extended past Dipper's hips. "What do you want from me, Pines?" 

"Pines?" Bud echoed, the smile wiping off his face in confusion. 

Dipper dropped his fake concern and leaned back, crossing his legs in a casual position. "It's been five days, Gideon. You have neither accepted nor denied my offer." He slowly turned his head to look at the boy, his eyes cold. "My patience can only be tried for so long." 

The fear returned to Gideon's face, and his knees wobbled. "J-just give me more time!" he begged, clasping his hands together. 

"Five days was plenty of time," Dipper said, picking up his backpack and unzipping it. He pulled out the scissors and snapped them, smirking at Gideon's flinch. Bud watched from his own chair, face pale in apprehension. "You have one more chance, Gideon, right here and now. I'm not leaving until I get an answer." He placed the scissors on the table and glared at Gideon. 

Gideon bit his lip, hesitation flitting through his eyes. He didn't know what to do. He shuffled his feet nervously, keeping an eye on the scissors innocently lying on the table. 

"You really would betray your family?" Gideon asked quietly. "You'd betray your sister?" He sounded like he couldn't fathom the idea. To be fair, the old Dipper would never have thought of betraying his family.

"I'm doing this for her," Dipper said. "To keep her safe." 

Gideon still hesitated. 

"If you agree, good for you. If you don't..." Dipper activated the amulet and raised the scissors into the air. The metal snapped open and shut menacingly, and Gideon cowered against the wall, shaking in terror. "I'll kill you. And them, too, I guess," he added, eyeing Bud and Gideon's mother. "Can't leave any witnesses." 

"You-you wouldn't!" Gideon cried, wrapping his robe tighter around himself like a shield. 

Dipper laughed, a cold laugh that echoed around the room and made the other occupants shiver. "Trust me, Gideon, I'd gladly rip your insides out, after what you've done to my sister and me. Now what do you say? The Shack or your life?" He extended a hand. The scissors drifted toward Gideon's head, wide open and ready to snap. 

Gideon shut his eyes tightly and stepped forward. His hand closed around Dipper's, and they shook hands. The agreement had been made. 

"Good decision, Gideon," Bill said, taking over and smiling wide enough to make Gideon's lip curl in disgust. "I promise you won't regret it." The scissors dropped to the ground, sticking straight up as the blades pierced the carpet. He picked them up and the backpack and strolled to the door. He paused with the door wide open and glanced back at Gideon. "I'll be watching you." With that, he slammed the door behind him, leaving three pale terrified faces in the house. 

___

"I'm home!" Dipper called as he opened the front door to the Shack. He glanced around, hearing nothing but the sounds of the TV and the lack of fangirlish screaming. He hefted his backpack to support the weight of a lopsided Journal 3 and headed to discover who was watching TV. He peeked in and saw Stan relaxing in his yellow chair, a can of Pitt Cola in hand. His grunkle's eyes were glued to the screen, and he was entirely absorbed in whatever he was watching. Dipper looked at the TV curiously and saw that Stan was watching babies fight. 

"Have Mabel and her friends left?" he asked, setting his backpack beside Stan's chair and sitting cross-legged next to Stan's feet. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of old man feet wafting from Stan's socks. Gross. 

"They went out half an hour ago," Stan replied, peeling his eyes away from the TV with gargantuan effort. "Where have you been, anyway? You were gone all day!" 

"Glad you asked!" Dipper reached into his backpack and pulled out a food container bearing the Greasy Diner's logo on the top. Stan perked in interest and set his soda precariously on the chair's arm. "I got hungry and bought lunch at Greasy's- sorry for stealing your wallet- and thought you might like a treat. As an apology for the, uh, coffee prank this morning." He opened the box and revealed a double cheeseburger. The bun was covered in sesame seeds, and there was just the right balance between meat, cheese, and condiments. 

"Wait, you stole my wallet?" Stan asked, licking his lips hungrily and staring at the burger with lust in his eyes. 

"You don't mind, do you?" Dipper tossed his grunkle the black leather wallet he'd stolen from Stan's pocket before he'd left. 

Stan caught his wallet with ease, opening it and checking the money tucked into its pockets. "Dipper, I'm a professional con man and thief. You pickpocketing me without me noticing is something worth celebrating!" He leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "How'd you do it, kiddo?" 

Dipper smirked and pushed Stan away with the amulet. "Magic, you crazy old man," he said, pointing at the amulet pinned to his sweater. 

Stan hummed thoughtfully and stroked his chin, possibly brewing up not-so-legal ways for Dipper to use his amulet. Dipper handed him his burger and adjusted his position on the carpet so he could be more comfortable as he watched TV with his grunkle. With Stan focusing on nothing other than the screen, Dipper pulled out the journal, flipped to a blank page, and began to write about the day's events. He smugly recounted the meeting with Gideon and how Bill's satisfaction bled into his mind. He avoided specifically mentioning exactly what he and Gideon had agreed on in case Mabel snooped through the journal again. The TV noise droned in the background along with Stan's occasional cheer and grumble. 

Dipper's concentration broke when the front door opened, and the sounds of grunting entered the house. He tossed the journal behind him and peered into the hall to see Mabel, Candy, and Grenda carrying a large duffel bug toward the stairs. He rubbed his eyes when the bag wriggled, convinced he was seeing things. Bill squinted at the bag, as dumbfounded as Dipper. 

"What the heck are they doing?" he asked, sounding intrigued. "Did they kidnap someone?" 

"Are there people in that bag, Mabel?" Dipper asked, stuffing the journal in his backpack and approaching the bag that was definitely being hit by a shoe; he could see the shape as the bag stretched from whoever was inside. 

The girls froze at Dipper's interruption, exchanging terrified and concerned looks. Dipper kicked the bag to test his theory, and, sure enough, someone in the bag cried out in pain. Dipper raised an eyebrow at his sister as she tried to play innocent. 

"No! We just... robbed a bank!" She nodded and gave the bag a harsh tug. "This bag is filled with millions of dollars, not people!" 

"So... I can stab these scissors in it?" Dipper floated the scissors out of his backpack and hovered them over the beg, metal jaws wide and ready for attack. The girls gasped and desperately shook their heads. Dipper lowered the scissors as they continued to try and excuse it as money. Mabel broke when the tips of the scissors reached the bag's surface. 

"Okay, okay, I lied!" she cried, throwing her hands up in the air. She and her friends huddled together, watching the scissors fearfully. "There are people in there." 

"Shooting Star kidnapped people?" Bill gasped in surprise. "Color me surprised. To think she criticizes me for trying to kill people." He took over and with a mischievous grin said to Mabel, "Congrats, sister. You've somehow managed to impress Bill. He gives you his compliments on becoming a criminal." 

Mabel shrieked, "Ew! No!" She gagged and shuddered in horror at the thought of Bill approving of her actions. "I'm not evil! We're saving them!" 

"Who's Bill?" Candy and Grenda asked in unison, glancing between the twins in confusion. 

"None of your concern," Dipper told them, putting the scissors back into his backpack. "Also, Mabel, the attic isn't your room anymore. If you're going to keep your victims somewhere, keep them in your own room. I'd like to sleep well tonight." Stepping by them, he headed up the stairs to the attic, gritting his teeth in frustration as he overheard Candy and Grenda pester Mabel about Bill. He hesitated by the door, listening to the voices at the bottom of the steps at Bill's command. 

Mabel's voice was full of weary resignation. "Dipper's right, girls. It's better if you didn't know who Bill is." 

As Candy and Grenda argued, the sound of a bag being dragged down the hall carried up the stairs. Dipper smiled, feeling Bill's relief soak through his mind like water in a sponge. Maybe Mabel wasn't as dangerous as Bill thought. He shut the attic door behind him with a click and brought his notebook to him with the amulet. Taking out his pencil, he erased "potential pawn" beside Gideon's name; he replaced it with "pawn for now" and put it back under his bed. After a long stretch, he flopped onto his bed and immediately fell into a long sleep, Bill's memories of death and destruction flashing in his dreams. 

___

Thunder rumbled in the dark stormy clouds bunching together in the sky, following the distant flash of lighting. Rain battered the windows and walls of the Shack like it was trying to break down the walls and pour in. Mabel scooted closer to Waddles under her blankets, pulling her sleeves over her hands and shivering. Waddles, sensing her discomfort, licked her cheek affectionately in an attempt to brighten her mood. Mabel playfully nudged the pig's nose and pressed her head against his side. 

"Oh, Waddles. I'm so glad you're here," she murmured, happy to feel his side rise and fall with breath below her face. "This week's been so crazy. First we freed Sev'ral Timez, then you got kidnapped by a pterodactyl, and now we're trapped in the house by a storm." She sighed, pushing away hair that had fallen into her face.

She took Waddles' cheeks in her hands and said in a deep voice, "We can still play in the house. There's no need to hide under blankets!" 

"I know, but something feels wrong." Mabel burrowed deeper into her blankets and covered Waddles' ears as a loud peal of thunder boomed outside. "And I can't put my finger on what it is." 

"Then let's investigate! You'll get to the bottom of it in no time because you're the best!" 

"I don't feel the best, Waddles," Mabel sighed, but she threw her covers off regardless. "But you're right. I'm the queen of mystery solving!" She scooped up Waddles and flung open her door to a pitch black hallway. Immediately her confidence drained away, and she shuddered as lightning flashed through the window and illuminated the stray cleaning supplies collapsed on the floor. Nervously she stepped around them and headed to the kitchen, hoping a snack would calm her churning stomach. 

The drumming of rain quieted as she went into the part of the Shack where the sound wasn't as loud, and she felt her tense muscles relax. Waddles rubbed his nose against her sweater, and she patted him fondly on the head, glad she had a friend to comfort her. Her steps slowed as she neared the kitchen; a certain someone was stepping out, covered in blood and holding a mass of fur and flesh. Mabel almost dropped Waddles as her hands rushed to her mouth to fight back a scream. 

"Oh, hi, Mabel," Dipper said, looking up from the brutally torn corpse in his hand. Drops of blood were spattered across his cheek, and his hands were coated in the scarlet substance, dripping it onto the floor. "You okay? You look like you're going to be sick."

Mabel wanted to scream at him, to flinch away from the energized look in his eyes that made her want to cry. "What... what is THAT?" She shakily pointed at the corpse, barely keeping her lunch in. 

Dipper wiped a drop of blood from his cheek with his arm and held up the corpse to show her. "A bat. Stan told me to get rid of it, so I did. Dumb thing tried to attack me. As you can see, that was a mistake." He smirked like he had just told a funny joke, and Mabel clutched Waddles tightly to her chest to calm herself. Yelling at Dipper would accomplish nothing, so instead she plastered on a fake smile. 

"Good for you, I guess. Do you need help cleaning up?" She tried not to shudder as she noticed the blood soaking his shirt. At least he hadn't been wearing the sweater she'd made. Mabel would have lost her cool if he had disgraced her work with innocent blood. 

Dipper's eyes widened in surprise, and he lowered the bat corpse, its flesh squelching against his shorts and dripping blood onto the floor. "You're not mad that I mutilated a bat?" 

Mabel took a deep breath to calm herself and nearly coughed as a metallic odor hit her nose. Ignore it, Mabel. Pretend it isn't the bat. "What, did you want me to get annoyed?" she snapped, unable to keep some irritation stifled. 

"No, I'm just surprised. You always get mad when I hurt something, so why would a bat be any different?" He gestured to the front door. "Let me just toss this into the trash real quick. Won't be long." 

The second the door clicked shut behind him, Mabel sank to the floor, her arms going limp around Waddles. The pig oinked in concern and licked her face. Mabel laughed as the tongue tickled her skin and gently pushed Waddles away. Her laughter died as she stared at the door hopelessly. 

"What do I do, Waddles?" she asked her pig desperately. "How do I save him from that monster?" 

Waddles placed his front hooves on her arm and rubbed his face against her cheek. Mabel sniffed and hugged Waddles tightly. The door opened again, and Dipper returned, soaking wet yet still covered in blood. He brushed his dripping bangs off his forehead but only managed to smear blood over his birthmark. Rainwater dripped from his clothes, mixing with blood as it fell to the floor. 

"Can we add drying my hair to the list?" Dipper shook out his head, and water sprayed across the hall. "I think some hot chocolate would be good, too." 

"Get it yourself if you want some," Mabel snapped, standing up and turning her back on her soaked and blood-stained sibling. 

"I wasn't telling you to get it." Dipper walked up to her and gave her a knowing look. "So you actually are mad about that bat?" 

Mabel stiffened. He was trying to rile her up. She could see it in his eyes, the way he stared at her teasingly. Well, she wouldn't fall for his bait. She crossed her arms and looked away from her brother. "I don't know about you, but I would not want to stand around covered in blood like I just murdered someone. Do you have any idea how Stan would react if he saw you?" 

Dipper took off his cap and shook water off it, his expression disgruntled. "Alright, fine. We can go now." 

It didn't take long to scrub the blood coating Dipper's face and hands with soap. Dipper complained about the soap, saying he didn't need it, but Mabel remembered hearing something about how bats carried diseases and insisted his skin was properly sanitized. After cleaning him off, Mabel left the bathroom temporarily so he could change into dry clothes, and came back to dry his hair. The hairdryer muffled their voices when they attempted to speak, and Dipper was forced to remain silent and not detail exactly how he killed the bat. Mabel was infinitely grateful for the hairdryer; she doubted she'd have stopped herself from throwing up on Dipper if he had recounted how he mangled that poor bat. 

With the whirring of the hairdryer and the blood gone from Dipper's face and hands, Mabel could let herself pretend that they were back home. She could pretend that she had forced Dipper to play makeover with her. She could pretend that the bathroom was their bathroom back home, and they had never set foot in Gravity Falls. She could pretend that the book Dipper buried his nose in as she worked was one of his weird sci-fi murder mysteries and not the worn journal. She could pretend that they would run around their backyard when she finished, and she and Dipper would laugh and tease and be best friends, having no worries and simply having fun. She could pretend that the summer had been a nightmare, and she would wake up and Dipper would hug her and tell her that he'd always be there for her. 

But Dipper's hair fluffed up far sooner than Mabel wanted, and her fantasies were broken as she turned off the hairdryer. Dipper shut the journal and stood up, announcing, "I'm going back to my room." 

Mabel fought the tug of disappointment in her heart, biting her lip to keep her expression neutral as Dipper left the bathroom without waiting for a response. She scolded herself for daring to hope her fantasies would come true. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she forced them down. No point in crying over spilled milk. 

But Dipper isn't spilled milk! her thoughts cried. We can still save him!  

Mabel picked at the threads of her sweater, different thoughts battling in her mind. She wanted the real Dipper back more than anything, but they'd already tried everything to banish Bill. If Dipper couldn't figure it out, how could she? He was the smart one, and his smarts were no longer available because of Bill's meddling. 

She sighed, collapsing against the wall and sliding to the floor. "If only I had the journal," she mumbled to herself. "But no, Dipper can't let it out of his sight! It's like he doesn't want to be saved!" 

Above her, the pattering of rain lessened as the storm moved on. Feeling like she could relate with the miserable stormy sky, Mabel headed to the porch, sparing only a glance at the snoring Stan on his chair. The dark swirl of clouds blocking the sun perfectly reflected Mabel's mood, and she rested her elbows on the porch banister, watching the trees whip in the wind morosely. Leaves floated in deep puddles in cracked asphalt, and Mabel tried to dredge up excitement that she had puddles to splash in. But splashing in puddles was an activity she loved to do with Dipper, and the absence of her twin beside her meant she couldn't feel eager about the puddles. 

"Hey, hambone. You alright?" 

Mabel jumped and spun around to see Soos step onto the porch, twiddling his thumbs nervously. "Soos!" she cried, clutching her rapidly beating heart. "You scared me!" 

"Sorry, dude. I saw you walk by and noticed you looked sad, so I wanted to ask what was up," Soos said, coming to stand beside her by the porch banister. 

Mabel sighed heavily and rested her head on her hands. The words bubbled out of her before she could stop herself, a waterfall of agony that she couldn't contain anymore gushing out at Soos' concern. She told Soos about Dipper's slowly changing behavior, their arguments, and all the times they'd failed to kick Bill out of Dipper's mind. 

"And-and now Dipper is acting so- so nasty, and I know it's because of Bill! It has to be! But Dipper thinks Bill will kill me if I know too much, and I don't know how to save him!" Mabel finished, sobbing against Soos' stomach. She didn't know when her friend had pulled her into a hug, but the warmth emanating from his body and the gentleness of the hug calmed her spiraling emotions. She sniffed and wiped her running nose. "I just want my brother back, Soos!  Even if it's only for one day or two minutes!"

Soos patted her back comfortingly as she buried her wet face in his shirt. His face was contorted in sorrow and sympathy, saddened by the truth. "I understand, Mabel. I miss the old Dipper too." He tipped his hat over his eyes, a gesture of respect for who Dipper used to be. He hugged Mabel tighter as her sobs renewed, determination stirring in his soul. "I'll help you find a way to kick that demon out, Mabel," he vowed. 

Mabel looked up, eyes glistening with tears. "R-really?" she asked hopefully, her lips tugging into a small smile. 

Soos nodded. "I swear on Mr. Pines' life," he affirmed. "We'll get your brother back to normal in no time." 

Mabel stepped back from Soos, finally feeling hope again for the first time in days. She was so lucky to be friends with Soos. "Thanks, Soos. You're the best!" 

"It's nothing. Just doing what I can to help a friend," Soos said, adjusting his cap. 

Suddenly a laugh echoed from the trees. Mabel and Soos exchanged a befuddled glance, unsure what that laugh was. They chalked it up to their imaginations when the laugh sounded again. This time, Mabel recognized the childish voice. 

"Is... that Gideon?" she asked, puzzled as she carefully listened to the laugh. "Why's he in the forest?" 

"Oh, he tried to break into the safe holding the deed to the Shack," Soos said, gesturing to a still open window. "I guess he might be trying to break in again." 

Mabel puffed out her chest and struck a heroic pose with one foot on the porch banister. "Then we must stop him! It'll be good practice for punching Bill in the eye." She hopped over the banister straight into a deep muddy puddle and grimaced as water soaked into her socks. She motioned for Soos to follow as she ran to the forest. "Come on, Soos! We need to see what he's doing!" She didn't wait for a response and continued running into the trees. 

Branches whipped against her face, and leaves dripped water into her flying hair. Mabel ignored the plants even when a big branch blended into the path tripped her. She brushed the dirt from her sweaty face and continued, following the sounds of Gideon's strangely pained cries. Twigs cracked and leaves crunched as Soos hurriedly followed, panting loudly. Gideon's cries grew louder and louder until they were a few feet from Mabel, and she held up a hand to stop Soos. Her friend bent over, catching his breath from the quick run. Mabel hid behind a bush and peeked over the leaves to see what Gideon was doing. 

Gideon stood in the middle of a clearing, on his knees and convulsing painfully. Mabel caught the flicker of flames in front of Gideon and smelled the familiar tang of candle smoke. She frowned, confused. What did Gideon need with candles? Suddenly Gideon stilled, and he began to chant in weird words. Mabel's blood ran cold as she recognized the position Gideon was in. He was on his knees, and the words he spoke were familiar to Mabel. She couldn't understand them, but she knew, deep in her heart, that she had spoken them before. More than once, actually. 

"No," she whispered, mouth dropped open in horror. Soos glanced at her, concerned, but Mabel couldn't tear her eyes away from Gideon. He couldn't be doing what she thought he was doing. Where did he even get the idea? Every inch of her being screamed at her to stop Gideon, but she stayed frozen in place as the vibrant forest around her drained of color. No, no, he couldn't know! Not Gideon! Anyone but Gideon! Her heart beat too fast in her ears as time slowed around her, and the imprint of a triangle began to form in the air. Mabel's head spun, her legs feeling too light. 

"Dude, what is that thing?" Soos whispered, staring in fearful awe as yellow flames surrounded the triangle. 

Mabel couldn't answer. Her voice wouldn't find itself. She tried her best not to tremble as, with a final flash, Bill Cipher appeared in front of Gideon. She cringed as Dipper fell flat on his face in the middle of the summoning circle. 

Bill's eye searched the area, his pupil thin in surprise. "Well, this was unexpected," he said, hiding his chained wrist behind his back. Below him, Dipper sat up and rubbed his head. "Was our offer not good enough for you, Gideon?" 

Gideon gaped at the two of them, his shocked eyes fixing on Dipper. His mouth flapped uselessly like a fish out of water, and he seemed at a loss for words. Dipper didn't notice; he picked up a photo frame and examined it instead. Bill floated closer to Gideon and rested an elbow on his shoulder, about to speak, but Gideon jumped and flinched away. 

"What's he doing here?" Gideon shouted, pointing at Dipper. Dipper set the photo down and stared at Gideon, his eyes blank and devoid of emotion. Mabel chewed on a nail anxiously, her mind scrambling in a panic as to what that could mean. Was her brother okay? Gideon eyed the chain binding Bill and Dipper together, visibly perplexed. "I thought he was a human!" 

"He is," Bill replied, circling Gideon. The crazy boy shivered. "You don't need to know the details, but things happened and now I'm trapped in Pine Tree's mind. In fact, I'm the reason he's kept the amulet all this time. Thanks for losing it, by the way. Controlling this kid wouldn't have been nearly as fun without the amulet!" He flicked Dipper's hat, his amusement clear in his voice. "You've liked having the amulet, haven't you, Pine Tree?" 

"It's nice," Dipper said monotonously, his voice as devoid of emotion as his eyes. Mabel's blood boiled in rage to hear how empty he sounded, and she bit her lip to restrain a yell. 

Bill turned back to Gideon, keeping the chain out of sight. "Name's Bill Cipher. And, of course, you already know my puppet." 

"Your... puppet?" Gideon repeated, taking a step away from Dipper, who was closest to him. Dipper didn't react; he just kept blankly staring at Gideon, not even blinking. 

Bill snorted. "Did you really think it was Pine Tree who came up with the idea to help you steal the deed?" 

Mabel's knees weakened at the question, and breathing became difficult. Help Gideon steal the deed? What on Earth was Bill talking about? She leaned closer, unaware that the bush beneath her hardly rustled as she moved. 

"I..." Gideon's voice trailed off. He steeled himself and pointed at the floating triangle. "Listen. I have a job for you, demon." He straightened his light blue suit in an effort to look imposing, but nervous sweat beaded on his forehead, ruining his carefully styled pompadour. "I need you to go into the mind of Stanford Pines and steal the code to his safe!" 

Soos gasped quietly, but Mabel didn't hear it. Her ears had started ringing, and the gray scenery around her blurred until only Gideon, Bill, and Dipper remained in her vision. 

"Haha- wait." Bill faced away from Gideon; the movement pulled at the chain connecting him and Dipper, causing Dipper's wrist to move slightly. Dipper broke eye contact with Gideon and looked at Bill like a dog awaiting orders from its master. "Stan Pines..." Images filtered through Bill's triangular body fast enough to prevent Mabel from fully processing what they showed. Bill faced Gideon again, and Dipper went back to blankly staring at Gideon. "You've convinced me. I'm sold. I'll get you the code, and in return you let Pine Tree and I stay in the Mystery Shack and help us with something we've been working on." He held out a hand, and blue fire ignited around it as he stretched it out to Gideon. 

Gideon scowled. "I don't trust him," he said, nodding to Dipper. "How can you be sure he'll do what you say?" 

Mabel couldn't hold the contents of her stomach back as Bill burst out in high-pitched, manic laughter. Gideon cowered under the ear-splitting sound, covering his ears with his tiny hands. Bill wiped a tear of laughter from his eye and waited a few moments to catch his breath. 

"Ignorance is bliss, Gideon. You don't want to know what I did to innocent little Pine Tree here." Bill removed Dipper's cap and spun it in his finger. "Now do we have a deal?" He brought his flaming hand closer to Gideon. 

Gideon gulped, also resisting the urge to vomit. Reluctantly he grasped Bill's hand, shuddering as the fire engulfed his own hand. The two shook hands, their deal sealed, and Bill was the first to let go. 

"Time to invade Stan's mind! This should be fun!" Bill said cheerfully. "Remember: reality is an illusion, the universe is a hologram, buy gold, bye!" 

Mabel shielded her eyes as a bright white flash ended the summoning. She opened her eyes to see the forest full of color and the sky it's same stormy gray. Her stomach jolted, and she fell to the ground, throwing up onto a pile of soaked leaves. Soos hovered worriedly over her shoulder as she wiped bile from her mouth. Mabel's body heaved as it fought to expel anything it deemed a threat. Mabel gasped for air as her chest tightened, falling against a tree and gripping her sweater. 

"Mabel?" Soos' face swam in her vision. 

Mabel opened her mouth to respond, but all that came out was a pained groan. She curled in on herself and trembled, her breaths coming in far too quickly. Her heart beat like a drum in her chest, and her thoughts collided and swarmed and beat at her skull. As chaotic as they were, they meshed together to form the one thing Mabel had dreaded most over the past few days. 

She was too late. Bill had beaten her to the punch. 

"Mabel!" Soos shook her shoulder, his voice growing more panicked. "Mabel, it's going to be okay! Dipper's at the Shack, remember?" 

The Shack. Dipper. Dipper was at the Shack. The Shack, where the deed was. The deed Bill had been tasked to steal. Mabel pushed Soos away and bolted toward the Shack, stumbling on her jelly legs. When had they become so numb? She shoved branches out of her face as she practically fell into the empty clearing the Shack resided in. Soos called her name behind her, but Mabel ignored him and hobbled up the porch steps. She fell through the front door and scrambled at the blood-water mixture soaking the floor for purchase. 

"Dipper!" she yelled, her voice hoarse and wobbly from her body's attempts to expel her insides. "Dipper, where are you?" Her shout echoed in an empty house. Trailing mud after her, she limped to the living room, every nerve buzzing in panic. She halted in the doorway to the living room and, for a second, couldn't understand what she was seeing. 

Stan snored in his yellow chair, his glasses crooked on his face, and twitching occasionally as he dreamed. Below him, splayed on the ground at his feet, lay Dipper, his eyes shut and Journal 3 open in his hand. A large circle of candles surrounded Mabel's grunkle and brother, their tiny flames glowing brightly in the dim room. 

"No, no, no!" Mabel fell to her knees beside Dipper and shook him. "What did he do, what did he do?" She picked up the journal and paused at the pages it was opened to. Why had he been reading about Bill? She reread the pages, hoping to find some sort of answer to her question, as Soos arrived shortly. 

"Oh no! Is Dipper okay?" Soos asked, kneeling next to Mabel's unconscious brother. He experimentally poked Dipper's cheek, but Dipper remained still. 

Gideon had wanted Bill to go into Stan's mind. Journal 3 had an incantation to enter someone's mind. Mabel dropped the book as she finished reading the pages, the blood draining from her face. She and Soos were too late. Dipper and Bill had already gone into Stan's mind. 

"He's in Stan's mind," she choked out through her throat tightening. "This journal..." She picked up Journal 3 and showed it to Soos. "He must have used it... Soos... what do we do?" 

"We follow them," Soos said, standing up straight with a determined look. He held out a hand to Mabel, and her eyes watered as she took it. 

"What if they've already found the code?" she worried, tugging at her hair anxiously.

"We take it back! Ninja style!" Soos karate chopped the air, looking proud of himself as Mabel laughed. 

Still holding Soos' hand, Mabel reached out and placed her free hand on the top of Stan's head. Closing her eyes, she pretended that Dipper was coming with her and Soos to fight Bill; she pretended that this was the first time they'd ever encountered Bill. Opening them, she recited the incantation, praying with all her heart for a win. All she needed was one.

"Fidentus omnium, magistermentium, magnesium ad hominem," Mabel read, struggling to pronounce the strange words correctly. Her and Soos' eyes began to glow blue as she recited the incantation. "Magnum opus, habeas corpus, inceptus nolanus overratus, magistermentium, magistermentium, magistermentium!" 

With a flash of light, Mabel and Soos entered Stan's mind and left the physical world behind.

Chapter Text

Stan's mindscape glitched and warped around Mabel and Soos. They stood in front of a perfect recreation of the Mystery Shack, except the mind version lacked any color other than a mix of gray, black, and white. Near the Shack stood a broken swing set with only one creaky swing still attached. Dark trees loomed over the landscape, their imposing shadows adding to the gloominess of Stan's mind. Mabel walked to the porch of what she decided to call the Mind Shack, Soos following in her wake. 

"Dipper?" Mabel called out, her heart thumping nervously in her chest. She searched the monotone surroundings for any sign of his blue sweater or Bill's bright yellow glow. "Dipper, Soos and I are here! Have you found the code yet?" 

A mocking laugh answered her call, and she whipped around, searching for Bill among the dark shadows cast by the Shack and trees. She would recognize his irritating voice anywhere. Soos protectively stepped in front of her, glaring at the attic window above them. Mabel followed his gaze and saw Bill reclining on thin air like it was a lawn chair. Beside him on the windowsill, Dipper sat motionlessly, watching Mabel and Soos. Bill summoned a cane and twirled it as he peered down at the people below. 

"Took you two long enough, Shooting Star and Question Mark. I was wondering if you were ever going to show up!" Bill laughed again, and the sound grated on Mabel's ears. She didn't understand how Dipper could sit so close to Bill and be unbothered by the sound. 

"Dipper, you can't let him get the code!" Mabel shouted at her brother, completely ignoring Bill. "’Cause then Gideon will win, and I know you hate him as much as I do!" 

Dipper's expression didn't change. He simply stared at her, silent, no thoughts behind his empty eyes. Bill shook with ringing laughter in the air as Mabel pulled at her hair in frustration. 

"Come on, Dipper! This is too important for you to ignore me! Oh, for Pete's sake-" She glared at Bill as he continued to laugh loudly- "will you shut up?" 

Bill snorted one last laugh before he quieted, his eye half-shut in amusement. "It's funny how dumb you are," he said, floating down to address Mabel directly. "Hate to break it to ya, Shooting Star, but Pine Tree's not going to listen to you." He pointed at himself and smugly added, "I'm the one in control of his mind, not him." 

Mabel hesitated, glancing at her brother still sitting on the windowsill. From her distance, he almost looked dead, unmoving and expressionless. Her fists clenched in anger, and she lunged at Bill without thinking, aiming for his eye with a fist. Bill let her come at him, and she felt herself pass through his body. Her spirits momentarily lifted; had she finally managed to punch Bill in the only thing she could call his face? Her hopes crashed as she landed exactly where she'd been and looked over her shoulder to find Bill laughing at her, unharmed. 

"You're out of your league, Shooting Star. Either help us get the code or leave," Bill said, floating back up to Dipper and digging the bottom of his cane into Dipper's leg. Mabel and Soos winced from the loud crack as Dipper's leg broke, but Dipper didn't flinch or twitch in pain. He seemed, as impossible as it was, to feel nothing. 

"I'll never help you, Bill!" Mabel yelled, tossing an abandoned soda can at Bill's eye. Bill merely whisked it away with a flick of his finger. 

"Oh, I know. But you'd do anything for your brother." He whacked Dipper on the head with his cane, but again Dipper showed no reaction to the blow. "I'd hate to make him harm you, what with all his blabbering about keeping you safe." 

Mabel faltered, at a loss for words. She wanted to believe Dipper would never hurt her, but he already had before she'd moved into her new room. And Bill was right; the last thing Mabel wanted was to fight with her twin. So what could she do? Help Bill and lose the Shack or refuse and be hurt- or potentially killed- by her own brother? 

A large warm hand rested on her shoulder, and Mabel, startled out of her thoughts, looked up to see Soos standing behind her, glaring at Bill with the most anger she had ever seen him express. 

"If you're going to hurt Mabel, you'll have to get through me first!" Soos threatened, punching a fist into his palm. 

Bill rolled his eye. "Just as stupid as ever, I see. So, Shooting Star? Do we have a deal?" 

Mabel knew what she had to do, but she couldn't help one last attempt to reach her brother. "Dipper, I don't know what he's done to you to make you so robo-ey, but you have to try and resist!" She clasped her hands together and begged, with her best puppy dog eyes, "Pleeeeease?" 

To her shock and joy, some emotion flickered in Dipper's eyes. His fingers curled tightly around the wooden windowsill he sat on, and for a second he looked scared and seemed prepared to speak. Mabel eagerly bounced on her feet, glad that her brother was finally responding to her. 

But Bill turned red in fury and tugged Dipper off the windowsill with the chain. Mabel squeaked in fear as Dipper almost fell onto the porch, but he readied himself before he could fall and splatter like a pancake. Mabel's relief was short lived, though, as the brief second it took for Bill to break Dipper's attention was enough to squash the tiny bit of emotion Mabel had seen. Mabel stepped forward, ready to yell at Bill for nearly killing her brother, but Bill grabbed Dipper's wrist and broke into the Mind Shack through the window, dragging Dipper behind him. Glass rained down on Mabel and Soos, and they covered their heads to protect them from the dangerous shards. 

"We have to find that memory before Bill!" Mabel said after it was safe to look up. "Any ideas where it could be?" 

"Maybe we could follow them?" Soos suggested, cautiously approaching the front door. "But, like, discreetly like secret agents on TV!" 

Mabel agreed, and the two of them crept into the Shack, alert for any signs of Bill. The Mind Shack was completely different from the inside of the Mystery Shack, with high stairs and long hallways filled with nothing but creaky gray wood and even more creaky doors. Mabel shuddered as a crab with Stan's head scurried over her feet, chanting “no refunds”. A tall entryway labeled "Memories" yawned before her and Soos as they came to the bottom of the first staircase. Mabel scanned the part of the hallway she could see for a yellow glow, but there was nothing. 

The hall of memories stretched endlessly as Mabel and Soos walked through it. Bats with Stan's head swooped overhead, and the place had the distinct feeling of emptiness. Mabel gasped in excitement when she spotted a small door labeled "top secret." 

"Soos, that must be the memory with the code!" She rushed up to the door and swung it open, ready to see her grunkle input the code into the safe. To her horror, the memory was not about the code. It was something far worse, something Mabel wished she had never seen. 

"Sweet mother of all things holy," Soos muttered in terror as Stan mimed his own stomach speaking to him. 

Mabel slammed the door shut and covered her eyes, certain that she was traumatized for life. Now that she and Soos were scarred for the rest of their days, they continued through the hall, opening and closing any door they came to. They saw him on a date with Lazy Susan. They saw him fail to sell a vacuum cleaner he called the Stan-Vac which sucked more than anything. But no memory of the code. 

"Ugh, where is it?" Mabel shouted, pulling at her hair in frustration when Soos had closed a memory of Stan running from cops in New Mexico. "Here, code! I've got treats!" She tugged a Stanbat from the air and shook it roughly. 

Soos suddenly gasped and pointed down another door ridden hall. "Mabel, look! It's the triangle guy!" 

Mabel dropped the bat and spun around. "What? Where?" Down the hall, she could see a faint yellow glow hovering in the air. She took off running, her feet pounding against the hard wood floor. The yellow glow stopped moving, having heard her footsteps, but Mabel didn't slow down. She wasn't going to let that evil triangle get away again. 

As she came closer, she saw that Dipper was sitting beside a hole in the floor, writing something down on a notepad in his hand. Bill turned to face Mabel, his eye narrowed in annoyance. He lifted a finger, and Mabel kicked her legs in the air as she floated into the air against her will. 

"Let me go!" she screamed, trying her best to punch air. 

"You're quite the nuisance. Aren't you, Shooting Star?" Bill said, drawing her closer with a twitch of his finger. "If we weren't in Stan's mind, I'd snap your little neck right now." 

Mabel struggled wildly against the force holding her in place, and Bill spun her upside down, causing her hair to fall over her face. She brushed it aside and stuck her tongue out at Bill, wanting nothing more than to tear him apart brick by brick. Below her, Dipper set down his pencil and held the notepad out to Bill. Mabel looked up at the hole now above her head and froze. 

It wasn't a hole she was looking at. It was a memory. Inside the memory, Stan stood before the safe in his office, typing in numbers on the keypad. The numbers were clearly displayed in the memory, and Stan even said them out loud. Mabel's heart dropped to her head since her toes were above her. Bill had the code. Shoot. 

"As you can see, Shooting Star, I've completed my end of the deal," Bill laughed, amused by the dismay on Mabel's face. "Say goodbye to the Shack. You won't ever see it again. Or your brother, for that matter." 

Rage burned through Mabel, replacing her momentary despair. "You leave my brother out of this!" she yelled at Bill, squirming violently in the air again. 

Bill laughed again and tipped his hat to Mabel. "It was not a pleasure knowing you, Shooting Star. If all goes according to plan, we won't ever meet again. Say goodbye to your sister, Pine Tree." 

Dipper looked up at Mabel and waved. "Bye, Mabel," he said without a hint of emotion. 

Mabel glared viciously at Bill and, with a heavy heart, gave him a gesture Stan would be proud of. Bill rolled his eye and pulled his bowtie; below it, his bricks parted to reveal a screen showing Gideon in the forest. 

"Bill! Have you gotten the code yet?" Gideon demanded in his best authoritative voice. 

"No! No, he doesn't!" Mabel shouted, squirming in the air desperately. 

Gideon's eyes fell on her and widened in surprise. "Mabel? My sweet marshmallow? Why are you inside Stan's mind?" 

"She followed us here, idiot," Dipper snapped, somehow sounding irritated and robotic at the same time. Mabel stilled her struggles, unsettled as Bill held up the notepad. 

"Shooting Star's not important," Bill said, dragging Gideon's attention back to him. "Besides, she's lying. We do have the code." 

"No! He's lying! You can't trust him, Gideon!" Mabel yelled. 

Bill and Gideon completely ignored her. "It's- do you have a pen with you?" Bill asked, looking at the notepad. With a chill, Mabel realized Dipper must have been writing down the code. "It's 13... 44..." 

Without warning, an axe flew through the air straight at Bill. Too busy reading, Bill didn't see the axe coming until it knocked the notepad out of his hand. Bits of paper drifted to the ground as the axe sliced the notepad in half. The axe embedded into a door behind Bill, the wood cracking loudly as the metal dug into it. Bill and Gideon stared at his empty hand in shocked silence for a few seconds. Mabel's eyes widened in ecstasy as she noticed a familiar figure standing in the hall. 

"Not today, suckers!" Soos yelled, thumping a fist against his chest. 

"Soos! Where'd you get an axe?" Mabel cried, too focused on their success to realize she had been lowered to the ground. 

Soos opened his mouth to respond when his face paled in fright. Mabel tipped her head, confused, before a hand closed around her neck, cutting off her airflow. Mabel choked and tried to tug at the hand tightening around her neck. 

"You..." Bill's voice was as cold as ice, and his blood red glow bathed across Mabel as he floated down to stand on the ground. His eye was focused on Soos, veins straining to pop in his eye. "You can't even imagine what you just cost me!" His hands lit with red and white fire, heating up the hall to a boiling temperature. Through the ringing in her ears and the lights dancing across her vision, Mabel managed to realize that Bill was using both of his hands. So who was choking- She could barely think anymore. 

Soos fidgeted nervously from where he stood, his gaze shadowed with worry as he looked at Mabel. "Dude, you're not going to kill her, are you?" he asked, voice shaking in fear. "She's your sister!" 

"Pine Tree does what I tell him to do," Bill's suddenly deep voice snapped. "And once he's killed his pathetic sister, I'll make him kill you, too, you mortal waste of flesh!" 

"Dip...per," Mabel choked out, her vision blurry. He couldn't be killing her. She refused to believe it. Suddenly she dropped to her knees, gasping for breath. She shakily looked up and saw Dipper backing away, hands clutching his head as if he were in pain. 

Bill slapped a hand over his eye, practically roaring in frustration. "You little brat! Do you have any idea how long it took me to even make him strangle you?" he shrieked, his voice deepening even more. 

Mabel and Soos stumbled as the ground rumbled beneath their feet. Arms whirling, they gripped each other to steady themselves as a round chunk of the floor broke apart from the rear of the building. It rose into the air, breaking through the roof and flying into the night sky. Stars glittered around them, but Soos and Mabel had no time to appreciate the beauty of the night sky as Bill grew to the size of a pyramid. 

"Eat nightmares!" the enraged triangle bellowed, the whites of his eye bleeding into black. 

"Nightmares? Surely he doesn't mean that British dog I keep dreaming about?" Soos worried, wringing his hands. 

Bill pointed his finger at Soos, and a beam of red light shot out and blasted the ground right next to him. The beam formed a bulldog standing on its hind paws, dressed like an old-fashioned British man and holding a cane. If you looked past the British clothing, it actually kind of looked cute. 

"Hullo, hullo! Who's crike for a shdig in the pudding?" the dog said in a British accent, whacking Soos in the stomach with his cane. 

Soos screamed and bounced on his feet. "It's everything I've ever feared!" 

Mabel's stomach plummeted as Bill turned his blazing furious eye on her. She scratched at her head, desperately trying to remember what her worst nightmare was. A world drained of color? Life without Waddles? Losing all her sweaters? No more glitter sounded horrifying enough. Oh no! What if he removed her cuteness? 

"Oh, I know exactly what to do with you, Shooting Star," Bill's deepened voice chuckled menacingly. He reached down with his giant hand and nudged Dipper, who had gone back to acting like a wax statue, to his feet. With a snap of his fingers, Bill summoned a knife in Dipper's hand, and Mabel lost all sensation in her body. She could only stand and watch, her brain begging her to move, as Dipper plunged the knife into his own stomach. 

There was so much red. It pooled on the stone floor they stood on, a glistening splash of color against the uniform gray of rock. It reached her shoes, dying the unblemished black in mockery of her, sticking to her knees and staining her skirt as she collapsed. Bill's malicious laughter and Soos' cries of terror faded around her as a cold numbness washed over her. Her hands bunched around her blood-soaked skirt, the sticky metallic liquid clinging to her skin. The blood splashed as she stood up, life returning to her body as her vision reddened. 

Mabel had never felt such burning hatred before. 

Bill's laughter was cut off as a swarm of pink cats climbed up his sides and bit and clawed his bricks. "What the- what is this?" the triangle shrieked, batting away the cats with his giant fists. 

"YOU MONSTER!" Mabel screamed, tears pouring out of her eyes as she stepped toward Bill. "YOU-YOU!" She quivered in fury, and her mind couldn't form words to properly express how much she hated the demon before her. "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" She curled her hands into fists, and kitten heads magically replaced them. She aimed them at Bill and fired, the kittens yowling viciously. 

"What? Who told you how to- AGH!" Bill screamed as the kittens bit into his eye, his arms flailing as he tried to knock them off. "Get off! GET OFF!"  

Mabel clapped her hands, and hundreds of shooting stars shaped like the one on her sweater descended from the sky, glittering and burning as hot as the center of a star. The meteors collided with Bill, breaking pieces of him off, and he created a red shield around himself. The shooting stars bounced off the shield but avoided Mabel and Soos, leaving glittery trails behind them as they fell into the abyss. Soos hovered on the edge of the platform, clutching the British dog tightly as Mabel summoned two bright and colorful young men from the abyss. 

"XYLER! CRAZ! MUSIC NOTE BLAST!" Mabel slammed a hand down onto a keyboard, and music notes blasted out of the keyboard and toward Bill. The dashing young men behind her obeyed and started playing catchy 80s synth music. 

Bill clutched wherever he heard from in pain as the music assaulted his hearing. "Agh! Synthesized music! It hurts!" 

"THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR KILLING MY BROTHER!" Mabel screamed, her voice raw and eyes bloodshot and cheeks soaked in tears. She summoned a glitter cannon and blasted a cannon ball made entirely of glitter glue at Bill. 

"ENOUGH!" Bill shouted, swiping his arms through the air and vaporizing the glittery cannon ball with a blast of red flame. 

The head they'd been standing on disappeared, and the night sky became a white void where Mabel and Soos floated with no gravity to hold them down. Mabel recoiled in shock when she saw Dipper floating beneath Bill, completely unharmed and with no sign that he stabbed himself. 

Bill took off his top hat and rubbed glitter off it. "I've told you before, Shooting Star, you can't get hurt in the mindscape. Any pain you or your brother felt was purely simulated and fake. In other words, Pine Tree is fine." He placed his hat back onto his head and narrowed his eye. "But I'd watch your back if I were you, Shooting Star. Interfere like this again, and I guarantee you'll be found stabbed to death in your bed." 

The demon's body began to glitch, fading out of the void around them. Mabel realized that Dipper's body had the same effect, and, after glancing down at herself, hers did as well. 

"Fez is waking up now," Bill said, shrinking back down to his normal size. "See you later, Shooting Star, Question Mark." He tipped his hat again just as their surroundings faded. 

Mabel opened her eyes with a gasp. Beside her, Soos stirred slowly. With a groan and a rustle of clothes against carpet, Dipper sat up, rubbing his head. Tears of relief sprang to Mabel's eyes at the sight of her twin whole and alive, and she tackled him into a hug. Almost immediately, though, he pushed her away. Mabel shrank back, hurt, as Dipper glared at her and Soos. 

"What is wrong with you two?" he snapped, face flushing in anger. "You ruined our plan, and now no one is going to keep Gideon from destroying the entire shack!" 

On his chair, Stan grunted and opened his eyes. "What the heck is going on?" he muttered, glancing around groggily. "Dipper? Mabel? Soos? What are you three doing in here? And why was I dreaming of two brightly colored radical young men?" 

"Grunkle Stan!" Mabel hugged her grunkle tightly, relieved to see that he was okay. She'd been scared Bill would mess with his mind, but Stan was fine and as grumpy as ever. 

"Is something wrong?" Stan asked, his brows furrowing in puzzlement. "You guys look like someone blew a hole in the house-"

Bam!

Chunks of wall and wood blasted across the living room, throwing the Pines and Soos onto the floor. Mabel coughed as smoke filled her vision, and Dipper muttered a string of angry threats beside her. When the smoke cleared, Gideon stepped into the living room, smacking a rolled piece of paper against the palm of his hand. 

"Oh, Pines family, I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" he asked in mock concern. Behind him, a large hole in the wall showed Stan's office and the blown apart safe in one corner. 

"But we defeated Bill!" Mabel cried, propping herself on a bar of wood. 

"Bill failed me!" Gideon snapped, his eyes landing on Dipper. "But I'm willing to renegotiate... For a price." 

Dipper heaved himself to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his cheek had been scratched by a splinter, but the amulet was still pinned to his sweater. Gideon's threatening demeanor slipped as the amulet's glow surrounded him. 

"Wait, no, I didn't-" Gideon stammered as the magic tightened around his body. He wheezed a breath, his lungs constricting against his will. 

"The terms of our first deal were clear, boy." The fury in Dipper's voice was evident despite the wide manic grin spreading across his face. "I helped you steal the deed. Now it's time to give me what I want." 

"You-you never said you wanted anything in exchange the first time!" Gideon cried. He visibly bit his lip to hold back a cry of pain as the magic dislocated his shoulder with a pop. 

"Well, I've altered the deal, and if you don't agree, I'll kill you." Dipper walked up to Gideon and hoisted him up by the collar of his suit. "I'll kill you right here, right now. No hesitation." 

"Dipper, don't!" Mabel tried to stand up, but a push of magic shoved her back onto the ground. Beside her, Stan watched the scene in stunned silence, convinced he was having a nightmare. 

"Okay, okay! I'll let you stay! Just don't kill me, please!" Gideon shut his eyes tightly, and his lower lip trembled like he was about to cry. 

"Good decision," Dipper said, releasing Gideon from the amulet's magic and stepping away. 

Gideon's cowering demeanor shifted instantly the second he was let go. He smugly grinned at the frozen Stan, Mabel, and Soos and held a walkie-talkie to his ear. 

"Bring it round the front, Daddy. And yes, the demon's on our side." He clicked the walkie-talkie off and glanced at Dipper. "Escort your family off my property, would ya?"

Mabel scooted closer to Stan's chair, desperate to hide behind something and forget this nightmare, until her hand bumped into something thick and hard. She looked down and held back a gasp. As inconspicuously as she could, she slid the maroon book into her sweater moments before she felt her body rise into the air. 

"What's going on?" Stan asked, looking close to panicking. "Dipper, kiddo, what are you doing?" 

"What I have to do," Dipper responded, his eyes cold as he floated his family out of the living room. He opened the door and threw them out one by one. 

The dirt shook beneath their feet, and Mabel, Soos, and Stan recoiled as a giant construction crane rolled up to the Shack. A large heavy wrecking ball hung from the crane, swinging menacingly on its chains. They hurried away from the vehicle as it came close to crushing them.

"Find somewhere safe to stay, Stan!" Dipper called from the front door. "I promise you'll get the Shack back eventually!" He stepped back and disappeared from view as the wrecking ball smashed into the sign on the roof. It broke in half and crashed to the ground, feet away from Stan, Soos, and Mabel. 

Mabel hid her face in Stan's shirt, unable to watch the roof raining down around them. The Shack was gone. And, even worse, Dipper was, too. For the first time in their lives, the twins were working against each other. 

___

Ash and sawdust lingered in the air in Stan's office from the explosion Gideon set off to open the safe. Dipper stepped carefully over pointed pieces of metal, examining the walls for any hiding places. He tugged irritably at a thick itchy electric shock collar Gideon had managed to wrap around his throat. He still couldn't believe Gideon had done such a thing. What were he and Bill, a dog? Make no mistake, Bill had tried to remove the collar and break every bone in Gideon's body, but Gideon had shocked them with the collar if they tried to attack him. Dipper had expected Gideon to betray him, but he never imagined something like this. His limbs still tingled from the first five bouts of electric shocks. 

"Can't believe I let you talk me into working with Gideon," Dipper grumbled as he searched for where Stan hid his fake ID's... and the code to the vending machine. 

"Now, now, we can still make this work," Bill reassured him, hovering over Stan's desk. "He'll build the portal for us if we play our cards right." 

"Or he'll shock us to death before we can even explain it to him." Dipper knocked over a pencil jar in anger. The pencils clattered to the floor, leaving long traces in the dusty wood. 

"If I didn't find him useful, I'd have killed him while he was shocking us earlier," Bill snapped, his eye twitching. 

"Yeah, sure. Like you can touch the amulet while my hands are convulsing," Dipper said sarcastically, kicking a sharp piece of metal into the wall. The tip cut into his toe, and he wiped the welling dot of blood against the desk. "Just admit we made a mistake, Bill. It's not that hard." 

"I don't make mistakes!" Bill huffed, crossing his arms and looking away from Dipper. "I never have... and I never will." 

"And you say I live in denial," Dipper said, waving his hand through Bill's illusion in the closest he could come to a nudge. 

Bill shut his eye and rubbed it in exasperation. "Focus, Pine Tree. We can't show Gideon the portal without the code to get down there in the first place." 

Dipper nodded and tugged at the collar again, wishing he could rip it off and scratch his itching skin. But no, Gideon had said that the collar had a self-destruct function that would activate if taken off without a keyword spoken by a specific person. Dipper was amazed Gideon had gotten his grubby little hands on such highly advanced technology until he'd spotted McGucket building a robot outside the Shack through a window. Dipper hated the collar, but at least he had a new reason to kill the crazy old loon. 

"Revenge later. Portal first," Bill ordered. 

Some searching and digging around later, Dipper found the hiding spot and left Stan's office with a slip of paper in his hand. He read the code several times to be sure he knew it; after the fiasco with the safe code, Bill wanted to ensure Dipper knew it in case it got lost. His eyes glued to the paper, Dipper didn't look where he was going as he headed to the gift shop. He bumped into something squishy walking the opposite direction and dropped the code. It landed on the ground, right next to a pair of polished dress shoes. Dipper restrained a groan of annoyance as he looked down at the owner of the shoes. 

"There you are, demon," Gideon said, one hand digging into his pocket for the collar's controller. "My announcement is about to start in an hour, and I need you to be there in case... they show up."

"Of course they're going to show up," Dipper scoffed, leaning down to pick up the code. "The Mystery Shack means everything to Stan and Soos, and Mabel would do anything for them." 

"Like... become my queen?" Gideon smiled and sighed wistfully, his eyes becoming glassy as he entered into a daydream. 

"Definitely not," Dipper denied immediately, shoving the paper into his pocket. "If you'll excuse me, Bill and I have super important stuff to do, and you are literally in our way." He stepped around Gideon to make his point clear. 

Gideon narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Dipper suspiciously. "I expect to hear about it after my announcement." He held up the controller, the stupid thing holding the fate of Dipper's life. 

"Funny you say that. We were planning to tell you." Dipper continued to walk down the hall, feeling Gideon's eyes on him as he turned away. Maybe it had been a bad idea to threaten to kill Gideon. The boy was on edge around Dipper, and Dipper guessed the collar was to keep him from killing Gideon. Fuming, he threw a lamp into the wall, satisfaction calming his anger at the sound of broken glass crunching under his feet. 

The gift shop was dark and empty, put out of use now that Gideon was in charge of the Shack. The vending machine stood untouched in a corner of the room, its rows full of plastic food bags. Dipper input the code written on the paper and held his breath in anticipation. If the code on the paper was incorrect... A click sounded from inside the vending machine, and the metal box slid open, revealing a long staircase. 

Bill's grin spread painfully across Dipper's face. "Yes!" he celebrated, his yellow eyes glowing in the dim light coming from the inside of the vending machine. "It worked!" He laughed and began to walk down the stairs, illuminating the unlit stairs with the amulet. 

Dipper eyed the cobwebs hanging from the ceiling with distaste. A few spiders crawled across the webs, their tiny squishy bodies gleaming in the blue glow from the amulet, and they met an abrupt end as Bill tore them in half with the amulet's magic. The sticky webs held the corpse halves, their legs curling in on themselves. At the bottom of the stairs waited a rusty old elevator. 

"Are you sure that elevator is safe?" Dipper asked cautiously as Bill typed in the code for the elevator. At least that code hadn't changed. "I'd rather not die alone in a rusty creaky elevator." 

"Fez is still alive for a reason," Bill pointed out, stepping into the elevator as it creaked open. 

"I guess." Dipper shivered in the cold air; the summer heat had yet to leak in from the surface. He was more thankful than ever for Mabel's sweater, pulling the sleeves to warm his steadily growing cold hands. 

The elevator shrieked to a halt and clattered open, revealing a dark room filled to the brim with computers and technology. Dipper traced a finger across the edge of a long desk, stirring up dust decades old. Stan must not think it necessary to dust the place, Dipper thought sourly as he coughed from a cloud of dust. He stopped in front of a large glass window. Nothing but darkness lay beyond the glass, or at least it appeared that way. But Dipper and Bill weren't here for the portal. 

The maroon cover of Journal 1 stood out against the blue glow filling the room. Dipper reached to hook a finger on its worn spine but paused. Above the shelf containing the journal and several other books were pictures. A frame containing a photo of him and Mabel caught his eye. A squeamish feeling churned in Dipper's stomach. He and Mabel looked so happy... 

"Pine Tree." Bill's voice broke Dipper out of his stupor. 

"Y-yeah?" Dipper wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on his shorts, shaken by the effect the photo had on him. It was just a dumb silly photo. Why did he feel so weird looking at it? 

"The journal. Are you going to grab it or should I?" 

"No, I've got it." Dipper pulled Journal 1 out of the shelf and hugged it to his chest. Scolding himself for being so shaken by a photo, he turned away and hurried past the powered down computers to the elevator. The farther away he got from the photo, the more the strange feeling eating away at his heart faded. By the time the elevator clattered back into its original place, the feeling had disappeared entirely. "I'm sorry for being such a sentimental idiot," he apologized to Bill as he walked back up the stairs to the gift shop. 

"You should be. You might ruin my plans if you let your sister keep getting to you." Bill picked up a Stan bobblehead and scratched the edge of the plastic along Dipper's arm. Blood welled up along the cut, and Bill smiled widely. "Now, where could Lil' ol Gideon be?" 

___

The car ride to Soos' house was tensely silent. Soos stared blankly out the window in the backseat, not really processing the blur of houses and trees the car passed. Stan's concentration on the road was fragile at best and nonexistent at worst, and his knuckles tightened on the steering wheel till they were white as he heard Mabel sniffle and sob into Soos' shirt. 

None of them could believe what had happened. The mere idea of it seemed impossible. Gideon owning the Mystery Shack. Dipper betraying them. Had that really happened? Had they dreamed it all? 

The Stanmobile slowed to a stop at a red light, the red pulsing like an angry wound in the darkening sky. Stan took a deep breath, forcing his knuckles to relax, and glanced at Mabel in the rearview mirror. She rocked back and forth in her seat, tears trickling through her tightly shut eyelids. It was a surreal sight. Dipper's absence yawned like a canyon, noticeable and deep. Stan almost expected to see the boy reach out and pull his sister into a hug. But he didn't because he wasn't there. Stan opened and shut his mouth multiple times as he struggled to come up with reassuring words for Mabel. But what could he say? That he understood the pain of a twin turning their back on their sibling? Mabel didn't, couldn't, know about Stanford. Not until he fixed the portal. Stan nearly groaned in frustration as that problem presented itself. How could he fix the portal when he didn't have the Shack? 

The blaring of a car horn snapped him out of his worried thoughts. Stan wanted to open the window and shout curses at the person behind them until he realized the light had turned green without him noticing. Shaking his head, he pressed a bit too hard on the gas pedal, not that he cared. He felt he deserved the right to outrun his problems. He should have known that he couldn't. 

As he parked the car in front of Soos' rundown house, he checked on Mabel again. Her crying had stopped, and she lay limp in her seat, her head covered by her sweater. Soos fiddled with his cap, his expression solemn. Stan sighed heavily as he realized none of them wanted to exit the car and leaned back in his seat. He clasped his hands over his stomach and tried to think about anything other than the Shack. The more he tried to avoid it, though, the more worries popped into his mind. How could he take care of the kids (Mabel. It was just Mabel now, his thoughts corrected)? Could Soos and his abuelita handle having to pay for him too? Would he ever get the Shack back? Dipper had said something about it- no, he couldn't trust Dipper anymore. The kid had betrayed them. He'd thrown them out of the Shack himself. 

Realizing that sitting in silence was doing him more harm than good, Stan sat up and cleared his throat. "You guys ready to, uh, head inside? It's kinda creepy out here." And it was. The streetlights had flickered on, and the street was empty except for their car, though that didn't stop Stan from feeling like they were being watched. 

Soos nodded slowly, putting his cap back on his head. He opened the passenger door and unbuckled Mabel's seatbelt. Gently he scooped her into his arms like she was a puppy and carried her to the front door. Stan adjusted his fez and followed, his steps heavy and dragging. Soos unlocked the door and ushered Stan in first, giving him a comforting pat on the shoulder as Stan passed him. He shut the door quietly to not disturb Mabel and laid her on the couch. She sniffed and rolled onto her side, her hand reaching out for someone who wasn't there. 

"So, uh... Water?" Soos asked, sounding lost. He'd never had to deal with a situation as dire as this. Hopefully he never would again. 

"I don't think I can consume anything, Soos," Stan said, sadly gazing at Mabel lying alone on the couch. "But thanks for the offer." 

Soos, too, glanced at the sleeping girl and frowned in worry. "Do you think Dipper will come back?" 

Stan gritted his teeth and fought back a sudden burst of anger. "I don't want to talk about Dipper," he said. 

Soos looked away, stuffing his hands into his pockets nervously. "There's... there's something about Dipper you need to know." 

"Tell me about it tomorrow. Or when I wake up from this crazy nightmare." Stan collapsed into a rocking chair beside the couch, unable to even muster a twinge of disgust at the floral patterned chair. 

"It really is important, Mr. Pines. I should have told you ages ago," Soos rambled, his face creasing in guilt. "He's-" Soos faltered at the cutting glare Stan sent him. 

"I don't want to talk about Dipper," Stan repeated. "Heck, I don't want to even think about him. So whatever you have to tell me, save it for tomorrow." In case he does come back was left unsaid. Stan knew how crippling false hope was. He'd trusted it too many times and watched it fail him too many times. His great nephew wouldn't be coming back. 

Soos dropped the sensitive subject and left his living room to get blankets for Stan and Mabel. Stan ran a hand through his gray hair, grief and guilt washing over him. He moved out of the chair and quietly sank into the couch cushions beside Mabel. He took her outstretched hand in his, and her eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep and tears. 

"Dipper?" she whispered, her voice cracking. "Is that you?" 

"It's Grunkle Stan, honey," Stan sighed, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand comfortingly. "Your brother..." His voice broke. He couldn't bring himself to admit the truth to himself or Mabel. The pain stabbed at his chest like a sharp knife, and the feeling must be even worse for Mabel. 

"I hate him." Stan jerked back, shocked to hear such words come from Mabel. Mabel struggled to sit up, her eyes struggling to open fully. "Bill. I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill him!" 

Stan rested a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her back into the cushions. "Sweetie, calm down. I can't understand you." 

"It's Bill's fault!" Mabel whispered, sniffling like she was crying. But she had cried all her tears, and her eyes were puffy and bloodshot. "We... we've got to... save... Dip..." Her head fell onto the cushions, and her eyes closed, her breathing slowing as she fell asleep. 

"Bill?" Stan echoed, running his hand through his hair again. "Mabel, sweetie, I don't know who that is!" 

Mabel remained asleep, and Stan couldn't bring himself to wake her again. Not when she was so distressed. He let go of her hand and stood up, and his legs shook from exhaustion. It had barely been an hour, yet he felt like he'd run a marathon. He stepped out of the living room and bumped straight into Soos. 

"Ah! Sorry, Mr. Pines, didn't mean to be eavesdropping," Soos apologized, adjusting the pile of blankets balanced on his arm. 

Stan scratched the back of his sweaty neck, glancing at Mabel. "I think Mabel's lost her mind, Soos. As far as I'm aware, there's no one in town named Bill. And she kept muttering that something was his fault and she was going to kill him." 

Soos frowned. "Well, that's what I was going to tell you about. You still want to wait until tomorrow?" 

Stan was taken aback by the revelation that Soos apparently knew who this Bill guy was. It seemed he really did have a connection to Dipper, but Stan stood by what he said earlier. He didn't want to talk about his nephew. 

"Yeah. I need a moment to recover from tonight before you lob more information on me." Stan crossed his arms and gave Soos a firm glare. "I hope you've had a good reason for keeping this Bill guy a secret." 

"Honestly, Mabel knows more than I do." Soos set the pile of blankets down on a table and pulled the top one off. It was pink and decorated with cats. "But only Dipper knows the full story." He suddenly winced at the scowl formed on Stan's face, having realized just how much attention he'd brought to the boy's absence. "Sorry, Mr. Pines. I'll shut up now." 

"No, no, it's fine," Stan sighed and collapsed into the floral chair again. "But I don't feel like talking anymore." 

Soos nodded and handed him a blanket. Stan accepted the pirate themed blanket gratefully and threw it over himself. He doubted he would get much sleep that night regardless of how soft the pirate blanket was. On the couch, Mabel whimpered in her sleep and turned onto her side, her blanket wrapping tighter around her. Stan closed his eyes and listened to her even breaths, trying to force himself to fall asleep. He tried his hardest to banish the invasive thoughts begging to intrude in his mind, but his hardest wasn't enough. 

Stan had thought he and Dipper had a good relationship. After all, he'd cared for his nephew as best he could when he'd been sick the first week of summer. He'd thought they'd grown close because of it. He'd thought he knew Dipper. The kid was stubborn, too smart for his own good, and surprisingly strong; most importantly, he loved his sister more than anything. It seemed impossible that Dipper would betray his sister for someone as cruel and annoying as Gideon. 

Was it that surprising, though? Stan hated to muse on such a thought, but his brain had a point. Dipper had been acting off for days now. Insulting Soos, grinning like some sort of cartoon villain, asking Stan if he wanted to know the exact time and date of his death. Still... helping Gideon seemed a bit extreme. 

Stan shook his head and angrily muttered to himself, "Go to sleep, Stan. You can't figure anything out when you're sleep deprived." 

Eventually his mind obeyed and shut off, though it forced Stan into foggy nightmares about the Shack breaking apart around him and watching his family fall into an endless abyss of nothing. When he awoke, Mabel was sitting up on the couch, staring at a book in her hands with pure hatred in her eyes. Stan opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong when she slammed the book onto the cushions in front of her. She violently ripped the pages out of the book and crumbled them into balls, throwing them onto the ground and stomping on them. 

"Woah, Mabel, what's with the violence?" Stan asked, his blanket falling onto the floor as he straightened his aching back. Dang it, he shouldn't have slept sitting up! 

"Nothing!" Mabel snapped, tearing one of the balls in half. "I'm fine! I'm totally fine!" Her eye twitched as she spoke, and her body shook violently. "What's for breakfast?" 

"I don't know. Guess we could ask Soos' grandma," Stan said, twisting his head to peer into the kitchen. 

"Can we have triangle shaped pancakes?" Mabel asked, stuffing the book and crumbled pages into her sweater. Stan caught a glimpse of a maroon cover and restrained himself from reacting. There was no way Mabel had a journal. She would never keep it. 

"Triangle shaped pancakes? Mabel, that sounds ridiculous and hard to make." Stan stared at her, taking in the crazed expression on her face. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Just peachy!" Mabel bounced on the heels of her feet, tugging at her hair anxiously. "Soos!" she cried as the handyman passed the living room on his way to his kitchen. "Soos! I want triangular pancakes!" 

"Uh, that sounds difficult to make," Soos said. 

"I don't care!" Mabel yelled, her face reddening in sudden anger. Stan and Soos flinched as her bloodshot eyes bulged. "And give them a tie, eye, and hat while you're at it!" 

Soos bent to her eye level and placed a hand on her shoulder, his expression holding all the concern Stan felt. Had Mabel gone insane during the night? 

"You don't need to literally eat him, Mabel," Soos said in a serious voice. "It won't fix anything." 

"Ha!" Mabel pushed Soos' hand off her shoulder and backed away, her body shaking as her lungs heaved with laughter. "Hahahaha!" 

Stan leaned over to Soos' ear and whispered, "I think she's lost her mind!" 

Mabel fell onto her bottom, her face contorting in a mixture of sadness and laughter. "Of course it won't fix anything! Nothing will! DO YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW THAT?" she suddenly screamed, startling Soos and Stan. "DIPPER AND I TRIED EVERYTHING WE POSSIBLY COULD TO GET RID OF THAT DEMON, AND NOTHING WORKED!" 

She climbed onto the table and pulled out a maroon book with a gold six fingered hand glued on the cover. Stan's breath caught in his throat at the sight of the journal, and he felt the world break around him.

Mabel pointed aggressively at the journal and continued shouting. "I HAVE READ THIS STUPID JOURNAL OVER AND OVER, SEARCHING FOR A SOLUTION, BUT IT HAS NOTHING! NOTHING!" She threw it at the wall with a shriek and glared at Soos with the most broken expression Stan had ever seen on his niece. "Please don't rub it in, Soos," she begged in her normal voice, hoarse from shouting. "Please." 

"I-I wasn't trying to," Soos dared to say. 

Stan couldn't hold it back anymore. He was too confused, and he had zero clue what Mabel was screaming about, especially the part about a demon. "What the heck are you talking about?" Stan cried, throwing his hands into the air. 

Soos cautiously approached Mabel and sat on the couch where she'd been. The girl's shoulders were slumped, and her expression was taught with misery. "Do you want me to tell him?" he asked softly to the distressed girl. 

"What's the point?" Mabel choked out. "Dipper's not even here. We can't save him if he's not around!" 

"Save him?" Stan rubbed his temples, feeling a headache start to form. "Mabel, Soos, will either of you just explain what you're talking about?" 

Mabel wiped her eyes on the hem of her sweater and took a deep breath. On the exhale, she muttered, "Okay. You've got this, Mabel." She clasped her hands together in her lap and began her story. 

"It was the beginning of summer, a week after we came here. Obviously you know Dipper got sick and had to stay in bed the whole time until a bunch of gnomes kidnapped me- no interrupting, Grunkle Stan. Anyway, that night I heard him muttering in his sleep about a triangle demon, and he told me about him in the morning." Mabel's eyes darkened at the memory. "His name is Bill Cipher, and for reasons we still don't know, he's stuck in Dipper's mind." 

Stan held up his hands to stop her despite her protests, dread pooling deep in his gut. "Mabel, we just lost the Shack. I'm not in the mood for more bad news." 

"But it's important!" Mabel insisted, jumping off the table and staring imploringly at Stan. "Bill made Dipper betray us. He's why Dipper's been so grumpy and mean lately." 

However important Mabel's bombshell of news was, Stan did not have the mental capacity to handle finding out that his great nephew was possessed by a demon. "Why don't we talk about this after we get the Shack back? Besides, you look traumatized just thinking about it. I think it'd be better to discuss this after we've recovered and gotten some food in our stomachs." 

Mabel huffed and spun around, shrugging off Stan's hand when he tried to touch her shoulder. Hurt, Stan stepped back, watching Mabel storm out of the room in silence. She paused by the journal lying on the floor and snatched it up, glaring at it like it had done her a personal offense. From her point of view, it had in its failure to help her and Dipper. 

Stan sank into the couch beside Soos, taking off his glasses and squeezing his eyes shut in pain. "Of course things just had to get worse. Life just can't leave us alone!" He punched a throw pillow and put his glasses back on. "Is Mabel telling the truth or do I need to send her to a mental hospital?" 

"It's true," Soos replied, looking very guilty. "I overheard them talk about it, and they made me promise not to tell you. I didn't realize how bad a problem it was until we went into your mind yesterday." He shuddered, eyes glazing over as he re-lived a terrible memory. 

"Yeesh, is my mind that bad?" Stan attempted to joke, unnerved by the unsettled look in Soos' eyes. 

"Whatever that Bill dude is doing to Dipper isn't pretty, Mr. Pines." Soos shuddered. "It was like he was a robot." 

Stan was suddenly struck with a horrific thought. His mouth dropped open in horror, and he gasped, sitting up straight as a chill washed over him. Soos looked up. 

"What is it, Mr. Pines? Do I need to get you a glass of water?" Soos fretted, half-standing up from the couch. 

"What am I going to tell his parents?" 

Chapter Text

Dipper sulked by a large hoop covered by a picture of Gideon, his arms crossed in defiance and scowling at the idiots clamoring to get in at the wired fence lining the Mystery Shack's yard. The townsfolk of Gravity Falls waved their Gideon pins in the air, their faces shining with sweat and desperation. Dipper had never felt more disgust in his entire almost thirteen years of existence. 

"Don't know why we have to be here," Dipper grumbled as he pulled on the collar of the constricting powder blue suit Gideon's bodyguards had stuffed him into. The amulet was pinned beside the collar, but Gideon's minions and father's eyes were locked on him, making sure he made no sudden movements. "I could be reading Journal 1 right now, but no. Gideon's got to show us off like we're a show dog." 

"I hate it, too, Pine Tree, but we can't do anything until we get the stupid shock collar off," Bill said, sitting on Dipper's shoulder.

Dipper wiped sweat off his forehead, practically burning in the suffocating suit. He peeked behind the hoop where Gideon waited for his curtain call and asked, "Where'd you put the water bottles?" 

Gideon paused in adjusting his white cape and insolently glared at Dipper. "No moving from your spot, demon. I want all my security ready in case the other Pines show up." 

Dipper closed his eyes and chanted silently, don't kill him, don't kill him, don't kill him. "Fine," he forced out, turning away from the fake psychic brat. 

People were flocking like sheep to hear Gideon's big announcement, and not a single seat was left by the time the line fizzled out. Dipper tapped his foot impatiently as time ticked by slowly. To think the portal was somewhere below his feet. His hands itched to be working on it. Gazing around at the dumbest crowd in history, Dipper spotted three people in the very back of the crowd. Dressed in long black trench coats that would surely roast a person in the summer and wearing sunglasses, the trio looked awfully suspicious. One of them had a piece of paper taped to their hat with words written on it, and Dipper squinted in the sunlight to read them. He almost burst out laughing when he finally managed to make out what the note said. "Not Soos".

"Seriously?" he chuckled to Bill. "How have they not been caught yet?" The three suspicious people were obviously his sister, grunkle, and Soos, and Dipper wanted to shake his head in exasperation at them. Gideon had the town wrapped around his tiny pinkie finger; it would take a miracle for the town to even listen to the Pines if they tried to accuse Gideon of property theft. Dipper's eyes met Mabel's through her sunglasses, and they stared at each other for a long moment. Mabel broke eye contact first; she whispered something to Soos and Stan, and all three of them glanced at Dipper for a second. 

His family looked down at their feet as Bud began to play an energetic tune on his piano. Dipper rolled his eyes with a not-so-exaggerated irritated sigh as Gideon jumped through the hoop, tearing the photo of him in half. The boy bowed and waved to the audience as they clapped and praised him loudly. Such fools, falling for simple fake tricks. A few audience members glanced curiously at Dipper, and he scowled at them, resting his hand on his amulet in case he needed to teach the flesh bags a lesson. 

The microphone on Gideon's podium whined with feedback, and Dipper plugged in his ears, wincing. Maybe he shouldn't be standing right next to the speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen," Gideon began, smiling kindly at his audience. "Today, I am delighted to announce my plans for the former Mystery Shack." Bud rolled up a tray, its contents hidden from view by a blue piece of cloth. "I give you: Gideonland!" Gideon tugged off the cloth, revealing a model of an amusement park based entirely off of himself. Dipper gagged in disgust as the audience roared with cheers. 

"We're going to turn this dirty old shack into three square miles of Gideontertainment! And introducing our new mascot-" Bud held out another cloth covered object, and Dipper couldn't hold back a concerned look at Mabel. He knew who was hidden by that cloth, and he knew she wouldn't react well to the news. "Lil Gideon Jr! Boom! He's a pig!" Gideon said as Waddles was revealed, sitting in Bud's hand wearing a matching suit to Gideon's and a wig styled exactly like his hair. 

Dipper cringed and shielded his eyes as he saw, but not heard, Mabel scream at the back of the crowd. He pitied poor Waddles, forced into a costume he didn't want and toyed with by a psycho child fraud. Suddenly Stan ran up and jumped onto the stage, Mabel right behind him. He guessed seeing Waddles on the stage had been the last straw for his family.

Stan stood at the podium and practically crushed the wooden edge as he gripped it. "Listen up, people! Gideon's a fraud! This kid broke in and stole my property!" 

"Arrest him, officers!" Mabel cried. Her face was blotchy, and her eyes were bloodshot. 

"She doesn't matter, Pine Tree," Bill said sharply as Dipper felt a stab of guilt at seeing his sister look so broken. "Don't let sentimentality get in the way of our plans." 

"I won't," Dipper promised quietly, glaring at his sister and grunkle. 

Gideon stepped forward, feigning a look of surprise. "Such accusations! Mr. Pines, I recall you gave the property to me. Look, here's the deed right here!" He reached into his suit and pulled out the deed to the Shack, signature and all. Dipper braced himself for the townsfolk to spout more stupidity. 

And sure enough, Sheriff Blubs provided some instantly. "Well, that's all the proof I need to see," the officer said. 

"I love you, little Gideon! Sing them funny songs!" Deputy Durland called. 

Gideon snapped his fingers and motioned for Dipper to step forward. Biting back a snarky remark about how his family was telling the truth, Dipper came to stand beside Gideon, pulling up the collar of his suit to hide the shock collar. 

"Why, you even asked me to employ your nephew," Gideon lied, resting a hand on Dipper's shoulder. Dipper resisted the urge to bite his hand off. "Now why would he work for me if I stole the shack?" 

Dipper had expected Stan to scowl or glare at him hatefully, so he was shocked to his core when Stan gave him what he thought was a disquieted look. "Good question," his grunkle said, wrinkles creasing in what seemed to be a troubled frown. "Unless Dipper's not himself." 

The air was knocked out of his lungs by an invisible force, and all Dipper could do was stand in stunned silence, staring at his grunkle with his mouth half-open. Did... did Stan... No, he couldn't possibly... Mabel was scuffing the stage with her shoe nervously, toying with a thread in her sweater. Bill's anger felt like ice freezing in his veins as Dipper realized what his sister had done. 

"Gideon, can I talk to my sister for a few seconds?" Dipper requested. Mabel inhaled sharply and shifted closer to Stan, unable to keep the fear out of her expression. 

"Of course. What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't let two siblings catch up with each other?" Gideon relented for the sake of the audience watching fondly from below. 

Dipper forced a pleased smile and marched to the back of the stage. Mabel hesitantly followed, her hands never letting go of her sweater. She trembled by the time she reached Dipper. She was afraid of him, but Dipper couldn't care less at the moment, not with what he suspected she'd done. 

"You didn't," he whispered to her, hoping she would look up and see the fury on his face. 

Mabel kept her gaze locked on her shoes and refused to look up. "He has the right to know the truth," she said. "I couldn't let him think you betrayed us willingly." 

Dipper's eye twitched, and Bill's fury screamed at him to rip his sister into bloody pieces. He settled for threatening her instead due to the presence of the police. "I don't think you've realized the horrible mistake you just made," he said coldly, stepping back from his sister and grasping his amulet. 

Mabel lifted her chin defiantly, finally meeting Dipper's eyes with a look of conviction. "I don't care. Grunkle Stan deserved to know. Especially if he's going to have to send us home."

"Send you home," Dipper corrected. "I'm not going anywhere." He flipped Mabel's hair over her face with the amulet and walked back to the front of the stage, ignoring her spluttering as she tried to spit hair out of her mouth. He couldn't believe her. How dare she rat him out to Stan! Did she want to give Bill leverage to kill them? Was she really that stupid? 

Gideon snapped his fingers again, and two bulky tall men restrained Stan and Mabel and carried them off the stage. They were tossed out of the premise, and Gideon returned to detailing his plans for Gideonland. Dipper, fuming with rage, abandoned the idiocy-ridden gathering and entered the peaceful silence of the Shack. He ran up the stairs to the attic and belly-flopped onto his bed. Bill took over and screamed into the pillow, punching the bed and yelling about how much he hated Mabel. The lamp was blasted across the room and shattered against the wall, sending glass flying through the air. Bill tore the pillow in half and threw the stuffing at the wall, gasping for air from screaming. 

"What do we do?" Dipper asked when he felt Bill had calmed down enough to be spoken to. 

Bill paced among the remains of a pillow and a lamp, grinning madly as his anger continued to boil with no signs of stopping. "We trust Gideon to not fail us. If he does... at least we get a free punching bag." 

"Can I look through Journal 1 now?" Dipper asked hopefully. "There might be something useful in it that could help us with Stan knowing." 

"Knock yourself out." 

Dipper eagerly opened Journal 1 to its first page and began reading Stanford's explanation for his coming to Gravity Falls. His great uncle's enthusiasm bled through the page, and it was easy to imagine him as a young man, budding with passion for science. Dipper couldn't wait to meet him. He had so many questions! Journal 1 was filled with even more exciting and strange creatures than Journal 3! Maybe he could investigate them while the portal was worked on. 

"Eh, Sixer's not that impressive in real life," Bill said dismissively as Dipper's desire to meet his great uncle in person grew. "He's dumb and easy to manipulate. Not a very good role model." 

Dipper gasped and bounced on the bed excitedly. "Do you think we could manipulate him into working with us?" he squealed. 

"Take a chill pill, Pine Tree," Bill said, alarmed. "I know I said he's dumb, but he's smart enough not to fall for my tricks twice. I think." 

As disappointing as Bill's thoughts on the matter were, Dipper refused to curb his enthusiasm. He read the pages slowly and held the book reverently, knowing how useful it was to their plans. He arrived at the portal blueprints and checked them to make sure the pages weren't stained or ruined. The yellowed pages were crisp and clean; Stan had been taking good care of his brother's journal. 

It took Dipper several hours to finish reading the entirety of Journal 1. When he finished, he carefully placed the old book on his bedside table and finally changed out of the uncomfortable suit. Bill wanted him to wear the yellow Bill-themed sweater Dipper had kind of forgotten Mabel made. The triangle patterned sweater was as soft and comfortable as the pine tree sweater, and Dipper welcomed how the sweater allowed him to breathe. It was like heaven compared to the suit. As he put on his hat and shoes, a knock sounded at the door. He opened it to find Bud Gleeful standing outside, looking scared. Dipper's first thought was that his family had stormed the Shack and had put it under siege; his second thought was that Bud was scared of him. He felt the former was more amusing. 

"What is it?" he asked Bud, straining to hear if there were sounds of commotion outside. 

"Stanford's here to talk to you," Bud said, avoiding looking Dipper in the eye. 

For a second Dipper stared at him, confused. Stanford was trapped in the portal, and the portal was definitely not operational. What the heck did Bud mean- oh. He was talking about Stanley. Yeah, that made more sense. 

"Tell him to leave," Dipper replied, ready to slam the door in Bud's face for wasting his time. 

"That's the thing. He won't leave." Bud backed away, raising his hands instinctively to protect himself as Dipper scowled at him. "We've already thrown him off the property three times. He won't stop coming back." 

"As stubborn as always, I see," Bill observed, circling Bud's head. He sounded amused. "I'm curious to know what Fez wants. Go talk to him, Pine Tree." 

Dipper shouldered past Bud's large stature and headed downstairs. He wasn't sure what Stan would want. If Mabel had told him about Bill, she would have mentioned it was impossible to kick him out, right? Surely she didn't still think there was a chance. She was smarter than that. Dipper stepped outside into the scorching sunlight and spotted Stan pacing impatiently beside the totem pole, checking his watch every few seconds. 

"If you're here to beg me to come back, it's not going to work!" Dipper called as he approached Stan. Dead grass crunched under his shoes, and Stan halted his pacing at the sound. His grunkle leaned against the pole, and Dipper did the same. 

Stan immediately looked at Dipper's neck. "What's that thing on your neck?" 

"Nothing. What do you want?" Dipper pulled up the neck of his sweater to hide the shock collar, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment. 

Stan raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, but he seemed to understand that Dipper wouldn't say anything else about the collar. "Mabel and Soos told me there's a demon in your head. Is that true?" 

"Depends on if you believe in the supernatural," Dipper said, dropping his fake pleasant demeanor and glaring at Stan. "And you didn't answer my question. Why are you here?" 

Stan countered his question with another one of his own. "Why are you helping Gideon? Mabel nearly cried her eyes out because of you backstabbing us." He bit back a cry as the amulet's magic spun him around and slammed his face into the hard totem pole. 

Dipper turned Stan around to face him, pleased to see his busted lip and a bruise forming on his forehead. "Bill's plans are none of your concern, Grunkle Stan, and he's not happy that Mabel told you about him. Now state your business or die." 

Stan was quiet for a moment. Dipper wondered if he'd rattled his brain too hard, but Stan managed to come back to himself. "Seeing as I don't have a house or a job-" he shot Dipper an angry glare- "I can't take care of you and your sister. So I'm sending you home. I bought you two bus tickets for-" 

"I'm not going home," Dipper interrupted. 

"You know, I'm starting to think that's a good idea," Stan muttered. He continued in a louder voice, "Dipper, be real for a sec. If you don't go home, I'll have to explain to your parents why you're staying, and they are not going to believe the truth. Heck, they might come here themselves to drag you home." 

"Then lie. Yeesh, I thought you were a conman!" Dipper scoffed, kicking dirt at Stan. 

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath to calm himself. "Dipper, you are a child. You can't live on your own, and I guarantee Gideon won't let you stay here forever. Besides, I already bought the bus ticket." 

"Well, go demand a refund. I'm not leaving." Dipper crossed his arms and glared at his grunkle defiantly. 

"The bus leaves at sundown. If you're really going to stay, at least say goodbye to your sister." Stan shoved his hands into his pockets and walked toward the fence. Dipper caught him mutter, "If you even still care about her." He froze, stung. Stan's car disappeared down the road, and Dipper was left standing alone in the Mystery Shack's yard. 

"I think it's time we gave Gideon the journals," Bill said, distracting Dipper from the hurt Stan's parting words had inflicted on him. 

Dipper nodded and hurried back into the Shack, unwilling to spend one more second in the empty lawn. Bud had thankfully left the upstairs, and Dipper kicked the attic door shut. He rummaged through his pockets but came up with nothing but dust and a couple strands of hair. A rush of panic hit him as he realized he couldn't remember having Journal 3 on him after exiting Stan's mind. 

"Bill... do you remember where we put Journal 3?" he asked, dread running down his spine. Bill's silence was deafening. The demon immediately took over and began frantically searching for Journal 3. 

It wasn't under the bed. It wasn't under Dipper's pillow. The drawers were filled with miscellaneous stuff but did not have the journal. Bill tucked Journal 1 under his arm and searched the bathroom next. No sign of the journal. He went downstairs and checked the living room where the journal had last been. To his fury, it wasn't there. It wasn't beside Stan's chair or behind the TV or anywhere. He checked every inch of the Shack, even Stan's room. But Journal 3 was nowhere to be found. 

Burning in rage, Bill screamed at the top of his lungs, "WHERE IS JOURNAL NUMBER THREE?" 

___

Mabel crammed as many of her sweaters as she could into her suitcase while leaving room for her other belongings. She picked up her scrapbook and flipped open the glittery cover, staring morosely at the pictures taped in the first few pages. Some contained just her, but most were of the entire family. A fresh surge of pain hit her, and she shut her scrapbook and stuffed it under her sweaters. She had hoped the memories would cheer her up; she sighed and slammed her suitcase shut. 

She heard the front door of Soos' house open and outside air rushing into the house. The door closed, and Soos' voice welcomed Stan back. Mabel zipped up her suitcase to cover the sounds of footsteps approaching Soos' bedroom which Soos had let Mabel hide in while she packed. She guessed what Stan was about to tell her. A secret part of her dared to hope that she was wrong, but Mabel's optimism had been wrong countless times this summer. 

"Hey, sweetie," Stan greeted her timidly from the doorway, out of Mabel's sight. "How's the packing going?" 

"He's staying, isn't he?" Mabel flicked the zipper with her finger, studying the shiny metal and running another finger across it. The motion soothed her. 

Footsteps crossed the room, stopping beside her. Stan grunted as his joints popped when he sat down, and his arm slid across Mabel's shoulders. She didn't look up, not wanting to see the pity in his eyes. 

"I'm sorry. But he might come to see you off," Stan tried to be positive. Mabel appreciated the effort.

"He won't. Bill doesn't like me." She zipped her suitcase closed slowly, saddened by the thought that her summer vacation was coming to a quick, lonely end. 

Stan's arm tensed around Mabel's shoulder. "You sure you don't want to go up to the Shack to see him? Demon or no demon, he's still your brother." 

Mabel shrugged Stan's arm off, tears pricking her eyes as she debated voicing her thoughts. Her doubts. "Can I be alone for a bit?" she asked. "Please?" 

Stan rubbed her back comfortingly and stood up, his expression full of sadness and sympathy. "Take as much time as you need, Mabel. Soos and I will work on dinner." 

Mabel thumped her head against her suitcase as Stan shut the door behind him. She glanced at Journal 3, lying on the floor beside her. The golden hand glistened mockingly in the light, taunting her with its uselessness. Mabel stuck her tongue out at it, resisting the pull in her chest to pick it up. It wouldn't help her. She and the journal held a silent staring contest. Mabel's eye twitched as it longed to blink, but she kept her eyes open, refusing to lose the battle between her and a book with no eyes. Finally she let out a groan of frustration and snatched the journal off the ground. 

"Nope, nope, nope." Mabel shook her head at each page about a weird creature or anomaly, counting every single one of them off as unhelpful. "An eyebat? Ew, no! Oooo, what if I could summon a ghost? No, wait, a lepricorn! Those would be awesome! And... ugh, the gnomes! Those guys were total jerks!" She almost closed the journal with a disappointed sigh when an idea came to her. "Wait a sec... what if they still want to make me their queen?" She gasped and shut the journal in her excitement. "Oh my gosh! I'm a genius! Dipper, what do you think-" She broke off as she turned to look at her brother only to find empty air beside her. Awkwardly she coughed to herself and tucked the journal into the suitcase to distract herself from falling back into hopelessness. 

She ran into the kitchen to tell Stan she was going out when she overheard him talking suspiciously quiet to someone. She hid behind the doorway and peeked inside to find Stan talking into one of those weird wired telephones. 

"Look, I can't explain, you won't believe me," Stan said to the person or people on the other side of the line. "Just know that Dipper isn't going on the bus with Mabel today. But I'll try to convince him to leave as soon as possible, okay? No, no, don't come down here, it isn't safe!" He laughed nervously and scratched the back of his neck. "Uh, that was a joke! Of course he's safe to be around! Yes, I'll send him back by the end of the summer. Kid's just clinging real hard to this town. It's not like he's possessed by a demon or anything." He fake coughed into his fist. "That was a joke, too. Bye!" He practically slammed the telephone down, sighing heavily as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. 

Mabel poked her head around the kitchen doorway. "You okay, Grunkle Stan? You sound stressed." 

Stan jumped at her sudden appearance and stepped in front of the telephone to hide it from view. "It's nothing, Mabel. Go finish packing or whatever." 

Mabel gave up trying to convince him to talk about the call and left the house, focused on her mission. With an army of gnomes behind her, Gideon stood no chance! She would get the deed to the Shack back and convince Dipper to stay with them! It was the perfect plan! Nothing could go wrong! 

The gnome's hollow was easy to find; the large deep cave stood out amongst the mossy trees with its mushrooms and bright interior. Mabel held her head high as she walked into the cave, hiding her nerves as best she could. She looked around but saw no gnomes scurrying across the grass. Humming caught her attention, and she crossed the cave to a row of tall grass. She brushed aside the grass and looked down. 

"EW!" she shrieked, flinging her hands up to her eyes to protect them from the disgusting sight before her. 

"AAAH!" Jeff screamed, sitting in a tub full of squirrels brushing against his naked body. Fortunately the squirrels covered his lower half, though that didn't make the sight any less traumatizing. Jeff dropped the squirrel he was using to brush his armpits and sank deeper into his bath of squirrels. "Mabel? What are you doing here? You're not going to torture me again, are you?" He squinted at her suspiciously. 

"T-torture you?" Mabel gasped, offended. "I never tortured you!" 

"Oh yes you did!" Jeff argued, lifting a leg out of the tub. He pointed at a large circular wound that was mostly healed and hid from view after Mabel stared at it for a few seconds. "You came in here, grabbed me by my beard, and shoved a knife straight into my leg! Then you trapped me in a box and threatened to cook me alive in a pie!" Jeff shuddered. "I'm lucky to be alive to tell the tale!" 

"But I didn't do that!" Mabel protested. "You must be confusing me with someone- oh." She sighed and shook her head in exasperation. "Did this me give you to Grunkle Stan in a box?" 

"Yes! See, I told you you did it!" Jeff slapped his hands down on his squirrels and they froze in place. "Keep moving, guys." The squirrels obeyed and continued running around Jeff. 

The electron carpet. The body switching. Mabel would love to forget about that chaos. "Actually, it was my brother, Dipper, who hurt you. We accidentally swapped bodies that day, and we were trying to make each other lose a competition our grunkle came up with. I'm sorry he hurt you," she apologized. 

Jeff hummed thoughtfully and leaned back in his tub. "Makes sense, I guess. So are you here to marry me?" 

"No! Ew!" Mabel denied, shuddering in disgust at the thought of marrying thousands of tiny men. "I'm here to ask for your help." 

"Our help?" Jeff's eyes widened, and he put his hands on his hips. "After what you and your brother did to us?" He shook his head. "No, we won't help you." 

"But you'll be getting a new queen if you help me," Mabel urged, crouching down to be at Jeff's eye level so he could see she was telling the truth. "Her name is Gideon, and she's the most beautiful girl in town." 

"Oh! Well, I can't argue with that!" Jeff started to get out of the tub, and Mabel shrieked in disgust and slapped her hands over her eyes again. "Oh yeah, you're a child. I forgot." He paused and looked around the cave. "Your brother isn't going to stab me again, is he?" he asked suspiciously. 

"Dipper's busy with something else," Mabel said. "He's not coming with us." She backed out of the grass and gave Jeff a thumbs up. "Thanks for agreeing to help!" She uncovered her eyes the second she'd turned her back and wished she could scrub the memory from her brain forever. 

The gnomes assembled swiftly, far faster than Mabel had anticipated. Soon thousands of gnomes gathered behind Mabel, Jeff in the lead. Mabel found herself at the head of an unstoppable army, and she squealed in excitement and hopped a couple of times. Gideon was going down! 

"Alright, gnomes!" Mabel climbed onto the top of a rock to gain the gnomes' attention. Thousands of eyes met hers as she stood on the rock, doing her best imitation of famous leaders. "Who's ready to meet your new queen?"

The gnomes cheered and clapped. Some even threw their pointed red hats into the air. 

"Great enthusiasm! Love to see it! Now off we go!" Mabel jumped off the rock and marched out of the cave. The thump of many tiny footsteps marched in her wake. Mabel led the gnomes through the forest toward her captured home, an invigorating sense of purpose filling her from head to toe. 

I'm coming, Dipper, she promised silently. And you better not fight us or I'll dump glitter glue on your books. 

___

Cracked wood and broken glass littered the floors of the Mystery Shack. A couple broken lights weakly flickered on and off, another casualty to Bill's rage. He kicked the remains of a table into the wall, and the wood creaked but did not crack. The amulet pulsed with power, its turquoise glow a sharp contrast to the yellow sweater. 

"What's all the ruckus in here about?" Gideon demanded, charging into the living room. His hair was messed up, and he was tucking his dog whistle into his suit. He shrieked as a leg of the table shot past his head. Quickly he pulled out the controller for the shock collar and placed his thumb on the button to activate it. "Hey! Careful where you throw stuff!" 

Bill paced in the middle of the wreckage that was once the living room, slapping Journal 1 against his hand to focus himself. "Shooting Star has Journal 3," he said, not paying attention to Gideon or realizing he was there. "She took it. We have to get it back!" 

Gideon stiffened in surprise, and he resisted the urge to grab Dipper's body by the shoulders and shake the answers out of him. "Journal 3? But... there's only two..." His voice trailed off as he looked down and saw the shiny golden hand on the journal Bill held. In the center was a thick black 1. "You... You had Journal 1 the entire time?" he gasped, his chubby cheeks reddening in anger. 

Bill snapped his glowing yellow eyes on Gideon and scowled. "Shooting Star took Journal 3," he said. "She'll be leaving soon, so I suggest you shut your mouth and get that robot of yours powered up." 

Gideon pointed angrily at him and yelled, "You were trying to trick me, weren't you? You want the journals all for yourself!" 

Bill chuckled nervously as Gideon prepared to press the shock button. "Woah, kid, slow down! I was going to give you 1 and 3 when I had both of them! I swear!" 

"I told you to give the journals to me immediately if you found them! And you disobeyed me!" Gideon rubbed his hands together and laughed cruelly, though his laugh sounded more silly than ominous. "Time for a controlled shock, demon!" He pressed the button, watching without remorse as electricity ran painfully through Dipper's body. 

Dipper groaned in pain as he felt every cell in his body scream in agony. "Bill, you coward!" he angrily fumed. Gideon pressed the button again, and the pain increased tenfold from the electricity bursting from the collar. 

Journal 1 dropped to the floor, and Gideon crossed the room to it, pressing the button again when Dipper had stopped twitching. His body convulsed as it was attacked with electricity for the third time, but Gideon continued to press the button until Dipper slumped to the floor, unconscious. 

"So my sweet darling Mabel has Journal 3?" Gideon said, purposefully stepping on Dipper's limp fingers. He put Journal 1 into the same pocket as Journal 2 and exited the Shack into the yard. "You there!" he shouted to McGucket, who was smoldering something onto the giant robotic replica of Gideon. "Is it ready?" 

"Only one way to find out!" McGucket cheerfully replied. He pulled down a lever, and the cranking and clanking of machinery resonated through the air as the robot powered on. 

Gideon climbed up the foot of his beautiful robot self and stood on the platform that would take him inside. It carried him through the leg of his creation, and his suit was covered in a black body suit covered with white balls that served to power his control over his robot. Gideon emerged in the center of the head and moved his arm to mime taking the sign in the robot's hands and shoving it into the ground. Outside, the robot performed his exact movements to perfection, and Gideon turned in the direction of the Mystery Shack. The robot mimicked him, and Gideon leaned down. The robot rested its hand on the roof and broke the wall of the Shack with its other. The wall crumbled into piles of brick and wood, revealing the messy living room and Dipper lying motionless on the floor. The robot picked up Dipper and straightened, its head swiveling in the direction of the town. Its footsteps were loud and slow, but its size allowed it to cover more distance. Gideon cackled, and his voice echoed through the robot. Trees crumbled in the robot's path as it marched through the forest, obeying the will of its master to retrieve the two things he desired most. 

___

Mabel rubbed her arms, shivering despite the warm rays of the sunset and Candy and Grenda's arms wrapped tightly around her. She sniffed as she hugged her best friends tightly at the bus stop. Her plan had not worked. The gnomes had turned on her when Gideon had used a whistle against them, and yet again her hopes shattered, leaving her drained and feeling so, so useless. 

"I'll miss you guys," she cried as she let go of her friends. "I'll text you everyday, I promise!" 

"We'll never forget you, Mabel!" Grenda wiped her eyes and took Mabel's much smaller hands in her own. 

"Best friends for life!" Candy added, shoving a magazine into Mabel's hands. Mabel looked at it and smiled despite her tears. Candy had gotten her her favorite self-care magazine. 

Wendy came up and lightly punched Mabel in the shoulder. "Stay amazing, Mabel. You're one of the coolest people I've met in my entire life." 

"Thanks, girls." Mabel hugged Wendy tightly, and Candy and Grenda joined soon after. When their hug finished, Mabel turned to Stan, whose lip was trembling. "I'll miss you, Grunkle Stan. I hope you get the Shack back." 

"I hope so, too," Stan said. He snuck a not-very-discreet-glance down the road and frowned. "Mess with your parents for me." 

Mabel saluted him, happy to see him crack a small smile. "Will do." She, too, snuck a not-very-discreet-glance down the road. She tried to fight the sorrow threatening to swallow her soul; she had expected Dipper to not show up, after all. But it still hurt. 

The bus pulled up with a shriek of old wheels, and the doors popped open with a hiss. Mabel glanced over her shoulder at her friends, waving and fighting back the tears pouring down her cheeks. Her friends waved back, looking as depressed as she felt, and the doors shut with another hiss of air. Mabel climbed up the steps, heaving her suitcase behind her; it was hard to believe that she had walked down those same steps with energy and life to her step only weeks ago. She dragged her suitcase to the back of the bus and gazed out at her friends and grunkle, her eyes stinging as she noticed that Dipper hadn't come in the past few crucial seconds. He really hadn't cared enough. She pulled her sweater over her head and entered sweater town. Surrounded by colorful yarn, Mabel rocked back and forth in her seat. 

The sun's glare illuminating her sweater faded as the sun set and shadows grew. Mabel chanced a peek out of her sweater to watch the pine trees pass. In the growing darkness of night, the trees appeared ominous and foreboding, and Mabel hid in her sweater once again. 

"It's going to be all right, Mabel," she mimicked Dipper's voice as best she could and took off her sock, putting it on her hand to make a sock puppet. She opened and closed its mouth as she mimed Dipper. "Grunkle Stan will get the Shack back in no time with his crazy old man powers, and you'll be back in no time!" 

"Oink! Oink!" Mabel mimicked Waddles by plugging her nose. "I want corn!" 

"Oh, Waddles, you're so silly," Mabel sighed half-heartedly. The bus bumped over a pothole, and Mabel jolted in her seat. She peeked out of her sweater to check that everything was okay and she wasn't going to die. Her sweater was halfway over her head when a loud thud reverberated from behind the bus. She pulled her sweater off her eyes and froze as a large looming shadow cut through the little amount of sunlight coming from the almost gone sun. Her heart beating loudly in her chest, Mabel slowly turned to peer out the back window of the bus. 

She screamed as a giant robotic version of Gideon stomped through the road behind the bus. Electrical lines snapped in half as the robot charged through them; its glowing orange eyes were fixed on the bus, its mouth opening and closing menacingly. 

"DRIVER! STOP THE BUS!" Mabel shrieked, abandoning her suitcase and running to the driver. Her fright was momentarily forgotten as she stared bewildered at the familiar face. "Soos? What are you doing here?" 

"Hey, dude. Didn't expect to see you on my first day on the job!" Soos said, oblivious to the giant robot chasing the bus. 

"Soos, there's a giant killer Gideon robot after us! We need to drive faster!" Mabel hurriedly explained, pointing at the back window. Soos glanced up at his rearview mirror, and his eyes widened in shock. 

"Don't worry! I've been a driver in training for 40 minutes!" Soos reassured her. "Uh, which one was the clutch again?" He pulled down a lever, and the bus sped up. Mabel clung to a bar as Soos turned the vehicle along curves up into an incline. Gideon's robot charged straight into the trees, branches scraping against its metal hull with a shriek. 

"MABEL! GET BACK HERE, MY PRECIOUS DUMPLING!" Gideon's voice was ear-splittingly loud, and Mabel clamped her hands over her ears. The bus shook as the road collapsed behind them; Gideon's robot was climbing the incline. Mabel clung to her bar with all her might, her eyes shut tightly in case Gideon caught up and threw the bus off the mountain. 

Soos suddenly screamed, and the tires screeched as the bus twisted around. Mabel dared to open her eyes, and she screamed along with Soos as the bus skidded to a halt at the edge of a cliff. Dirt fell over the sides of the cliff and onto a fragile wooden bridge hanging over the forest miles down. The vehicle shook as heavy footsteps approached it, and Mabel hugged her bar tighter. 

The roof of the bus creaked and groaned. Soos took out a driver's manual and flipped through it, muttering to himself about what situation would be closest to theirs. With a screech, the roof was torn off the bus and tossed aside. It scraped against the ground, leaving a long dirt trail in its wake. Mabel clung to her bar like a koala as the robot loomed over the bus. 

"Give me Journal 3, Mabel!" Gideon's voice demanded. Mabel paled, almost letting go of her bar in shock. Gideon knew about Journal 3? 

"What journal?" she cried stupidly. 

"Don't play dumb with me!" Gideon snapped. His robot held up a hand, and Mabel gasped in horror. Clutched tightly in the robot's hand was Dipper. He was unconscious, his hair weirdly spiky and blood dripping from his half-open mouth. "Give me the journal and become my queen or your brother dies!" The robot's grip tightened around Dipper. 

Mabel let go of the bar and jumped for her brother. Her hands barely brushed the metal of the robot's hand when she jumped for it. "What did you do to Dipper?" she shouted, attempting to jump onto the hand again. The other hand reached down and plucked her from the bus. Mabel writhed in its tight grip, her focus solely on her injured brother. Please don't be dead, please don't be dead! 

To her relief, his eyes fluttered open at the cacophony around him. They were unfocused, and he was clearly weak. "M-Mabel?" He twitched a bit, but even that little amount of movement was too much for him. "What- what's going on?" 

Mabel reached for him, but the robot's hands were too far away from each other. She glared at the robot's face, imagining Gideon somewhere inside typing away at a computer with crazy looking goggles. "Let my brother go!" she demanded. 

"Not until you give me Journal 3 and become my queen!" Gideon argued. He squeezed the robot's fist around Dipper, and Dipper choked, blood dripping from his lips. A drop of blood landed on the amulet, but Dipper's hands were pinned to his side by the robot's hand. He couldn't reach the amulet. 

Mabel tugged at her hair, desperately trying to think of a plan. Dipper was too out of it to be of any help, and Soos was too far away to call on. She bit back a scream as the robot jumped off the cliff and onto the wooden bridge. It held out the hand holding Dipper over the edge of the bridge, and Mabel's heart stopped. 

"You have ten seconds to tell me where the journal is before I drop your brother," Gideon said. His voice echoed more in between the two cliffs. "Ten... Nine..." 

Dipper struggled against the robot's grip, but he could only wiggle his shoulders, his eyes clouding in pain. Mabel panicked as she realized he was in no state to come up with a plan. 

She slapped her hands against her head. "Think, Mabel, think!" she scolded herself. Gideon couldn't get his hands on the journal; it would be deadly in his hands. 

"Eight... Seven..." 

Something shifted in Mabel's sweater as she frantically tried to wiggle out of the robot's grip. 

"Six... Five..." 

"Mabel!" Dipper coughed, trembling as the countdown lowered. "Do something!" 

Something cold and metallic. Mabel dug into her sweater, eyes widening as she looked at the object stored in her sweater.

"Four... Three..." 

She'd accidentally hit Jeff in the head with it when she'd fired it at Gideon's hair during her failed invasion with the gnomes. How could she forget about her greatest pride and joy aside from Waddles?

"Two..." Gideon sounded displeased as the robot's hand turned Dipper upside down. "O-"

A metal hook burst through one of the robot's orange eyes. Shards of glass flew through the air, and the robot stumbled. It released its grip on Mabel, and she soared into the robot's head with her grappling hook. Gideon stood in the center of the head, wearing a weird black body suit. The boy cried out in pain as Mabel punched him in the face. The robot stumbled along with Gideon and rushed forward as he tried to shove Mabel aside. Mabel kicked him in the knees, and Gideon clutched it in pain. Outside, Dipper clung to the robot's arm fearfully as it moved around wildly. 

"Be careful in there!" he shouted weakly. "My limbs are still numb!" 

Gideon lunged at Mabel, and she blocked his blow. Grabbing his wrist, she twisted his arm toward his face and punched him several times with his own fist. Below the robot, the wooden bridge creaked and split from the constantly shifting weight pressed upon it. Inside the robot, Mabel kept punching and kicking Gideon while Gideon meekly attacked her. The wooden bridge snapped in half, the sound so loud that it reached Gideon and Mabel's ears through their fighting. The kids froze, exchanging a look of dread. Mabel pushed Gideon away from her and jumped out of the robot's left eye, retracting her grappling hook as she did so. 

"I'm coming, Dipper!" she cried as she raced across the robot's arm. It fell rapidly toward the ground, and Dipper was sliding down the arm toward her. She caught him before he fell off the robot and shot her grappling hook up at the stray bits of bridge still intact. Dipper's face was paper white, and he clamped a hand over his mouth as his stomach heaved. 

Below them, the robot crashed into the ground, sending trees collapsing and birds squawking in terror. A burst of flame and smoke rose from where the robot landed as it exploded. Mabel tightened her grip on her brother, glad that neither of them were in the explosion.

As the wire lowered them miles down to the ground, Dipper mumbled, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have helped Gideon steal the Shack." He scratched at a thick weird looking collar around his neck. "He treated me like a dog, Mabel. It was a horrible mistake to trust him, and Bill agrees." 

Mabel wrinkled her nose at the mention of Bill but felt relieved to hear Dipper regretted betraying her and Stan. "It's okay, bro-bro. I forgive you." 

The twins landed on the ground beside the wreckage, and Dipper collapsed onto his knees, breathing heavily. Alarmed, Mabel rested a hand on his shoulder as he threw up, blood mixing with the vomit. 

"What did Gideon do to you?" she asked, horrified. 

"Electrocuted me," Dipper weakly explained, tugging at the collar again. "He put a shock collar on me to keep me and Bill from working against him." 

Mabel scowled as the remains of the robot shifted, and Gideon emerged from the head, his body suit torn and shredded to pieces. She stood to her feet and snagged the back of Gideon's powder blue suit.

"Woah! What are you doing?" Gideon cried as Mabel dragged him over to Dipper. 

"Take that collar off my brother right now or I will shave your hair off," Mabel threatened, pulling out a shaver and waving it in front of Gideon's face. 

"How on Earth did you get that?" Gideon asked, perplexed. He grunted as Mabel shoved him toward Dipper. "Okay, I'll take it off. Just don't touch my hair!" 

Sirens blared in the distance, but Mabel was too focused on making sure Gideon didn't electrocute her brother to hear them. The look Dipper gave Gideon as he took off the shock collar was full of murderous hate, and Mabel, for once, felt the same. Punching Gideon in the face had been weirdly therapeutic after all the trouble he caused. Murmurs caught her attention, and she finally realized the explosion site had visitors. 

The police officers and multiple townsfolk rushed to aid Gideon, their faces tight with worry for their child star. "Gideon!" the police deputy cried, helping Gideon off the robot with the help of Sheriff Blubs. "Oh good heavens! What on Earth happened here?" 

"It was the Pines twins!" Gideon accused. "They tried to attack me and blew up my statue with dynamite! Arrest them!" 

"What?" Mabel gasped. Beside her, a bloodthirsty look entered Dipper's eyes, and an insane smile stretched across his face. Mabel grabbed his shoulder to restrain him as he made to move, whispering, "Don't give them an actual reason to arrest you, bro!" 

"I know what I'm doing," Dipper snapped, standing up. He nearly fell down, but Mabel supported him with a hand on his shoulder. "Officers, he's lying! He kept me a prisoner after he stole the deed!" 

The officers made a noise of disbelief, and Mabel was astounded to see they already had the handcuffs out. What an injustice! "Lies. Gideon would never do such a thing," Sheriff Blubs said. 

"Oh? Well, is this shock collar proof enough for you?" Dipper threw the shock collar at the officers. It hit Deputy Durland in the face and dropped onto his shoe. The officers stared at it incredulously and shook their heads at Dipper. 

"Sorry, kids, but we trust Gideon. And nothing short of a miracle can-" Sheriff Blubs was interrupted by familiar screaming and the screech of tires. 

Mabel smiled in relief as Stan's old red car sped onto the scene, Stan seated in the front in nothing but his undershirt and shorts. Stan poked his head out of the window and waved his hands frantically through the air. 

"Wait, wait! Stop everything! I've got something to say!" Stan cried, hopping out of the car and hurrying toward the crashed robot. 

"Not this guy again," Sheriff Blubs groaned. Mabel glared at him. How dare he disrespect her grunkle! 

"Just wait! Look!" Stan stopped next to a broken sheet of metal and continued. "You guys all think Gideon is so perfect and honest. Oh, I could never tell a lie! I'm Gideon!" he mocked, earning a nod of approval from the twins. 

"He's more honest than you," Sheriff Blubs said. 

"Yeah, and he's psychic, too!" Deputy Durland added. 

"How's this for psychic?" Stan challenged, kicking the loose sheet of metal off the remains of the robot. Behind the sheet of metal was a small room filled with cameras showing video feeds of every single citizen of Gravity Falls. Stan triumphantly pointed at the screens and said, "Take a good look!" 

The gathered townsfolk muttered in astonishment as they identified footage of themselves in each camera. Mabel was equal parts pleased and disgusted by the cameras. On the one hand, Gideon had been exposed as a fraud! On the other hand... Mabel shuddered to think of Gideon spying on her and Dipper the entire summer if he'd had cameras on them. 

"That's right!" Stan reveled in his triumph, holding out a Gideon pin for everyone to see. "These pins are hidden cameras, and my hearing aid was picking up feedback. Who's the fraud now?" He crushed the Gideon pin with his fist, revealing circuit boards and tiny wires embedded inside. 

In unison, the town threw down their Gideon pins and glared, betrayed, at Gideon, who laughed nervously as he was faced with the town's newfound anger. Mabel supported Dipper on her shoulder as they contently watched Gideon be arrested and shoved into the back of a police car. Stan shook everything out of Gideon's pockets and held up the deed to the Shack proudly as people snapped photos of him with it. 

"Thank goodness that's over," Dipper muttered as the twins walked over to join Stan. "I never want to wear a suit again." 

"I'm just glad you're back, bro," Mabel said, flicking the brim of his cap. Dipper smiled, but it was a normal one instead of those weird creepy unnatural grins he had started using. The triumphant smile on Stan's face faded a bit as Mabel and Dipper approached him. He looked apprehensively at Dipper. 

Dipper shifted uncomfortably and rubbed his arm, looking down at his feet instead of Grunkle Stan. "H-hi, Grunkle Stan." 

Stan hid the deed behind his back, never breaking his one sided eye contact with Dipper. "Hey, kiddo. You finally returning to the good side?" 

Dipper sniffed and nodded meekly, sinking in on himself as if to hide from Stan. Mabel took one of his hands in hers and squeezed it comfortingly. Dipper wiped his eyes and finally looked up, remorse glistening in his wet eyes. 

"I'm- I'm sorry, Grunkle Stan. For everything." His voice shook, and he buried his face in his hands, tears running down his cheeks. Mabel felt her heart hurt at seeing him so distraught. "I was stupid, so stupid! I should have realized he'd hurt you and Mabel." He looked up, his eyes and nose red from crying, and asked, "Can you forgive me?" 

Stan eyed him for a moment, and Mabel wanted to shout at him. Couldn't he see Dipper was being genuine? He was acting exactly like a guilt-ridden Dipper would, and he would feel worse if Stan hesitated to forgive him. She relaxed as Stan patted Dipper on the shoulder. 

"It's okay, kid. I forgive you." He dropped his voice to a whisper and added, "But don't ever listen to that Bill guy again. He sounds like bad news." 

"You don't say?" Dipper raised an eyebrow and glanced at Mabel. His tears had stopped, and he appeared as tired as Mabel felt, what with the bags under his eyes. "Hey, Mabel, where'd you put my journal? I'd like to have it back." 

"Yeah, Mabel, where did you put that journal?" Stan asked. Mabel jumped out of her skin as her grunkle and brother both looked at her expectantly. 

"Um... I think it's in my suitcase?" she guessed uncertainly. "And my suitcase is in the bus which is up there..." She pointed at the cliff. 

"Is it okay if I borrow it?" Stan asked, putting an arm around each of them and leading them to his car. "I took a peek in it, and I could make a lot of good attractions out of the creatures in there." 

"Well, it's Dipper's, so you should ask-" 

"Oh, you should definitely look at it!" Dipper interrupted, grinning in that creepy way again. Mabel blocked it from view with her hand; she didn't know why, but it made her skin crawl unpleasantly. "Especially the pages with a bunch of weird lines and circles. I haven't figured out what those are yet, and neither has S- Mabel." 

"Great! Also stop grinning like that, it's terrifying." Stan stuffed the deed into his pocket and settled into the driver's seat. Mabel and Dipper got into the backseat, and Mabel looked up from buckling her seatbelt to see Dipper rubbing his cheeks like they hurt. 

"You okay, bro-bro?" she asked, reaching over to brush down his still spiky hair. A few hairs were burnt, and she wrinkled her nose at the smell coming from them. 

"I'm fine," Dipper replied, pushing her hand away. "Just need some sleep, that's all. And maybe water. A lot of water." 

Mabel yawned and stretched in her seat. "Water sounds nice," she agreed. Her throat felt as dry as a desert, and she let her head rest below the car window, her eyes flickering shut as the car's jerky movements pulled her to sleep. She smiled happily as she heard Dipper hum a tune she'd never heard before. It was a pretty song, and Mabel fell asleep to the music, happy to have her brother back by her side. 

___

That night, a strange machine rumbled to life below the Mystery Shack. A blue light filled the cavernous lair beneath the building from the gargantuan metal structure occupying most of the space. The otherworldly symbols surrounding the center of the triangular portal glowed as they were powered on by a man standing in front of the portal, a proud and anticipatory smile spreading across his face at his success. The portal was working. After thirty long years, the portal was working. 

In the attic of the Mystery Shack, Bill Cipher watched the glow shine through the wooden floorboards with his puppet's eyes. He laughed triumphantly, as pleased with the portal's success as Stan. It was time to prepare for the end, but this time he would succeed. No weak human meat sacks were going to defeat him now that he knew what tricks they hid up their sleeves. 

Stan gazed up at his brother's greatest and most dangerous creation and said bracingly, "Here we go."

Chapter Text

Murmurs and loud chatter echoed around the gift shop as it was crowded with visitors. People were grabbing Mystery Shack merch left and right, excited about the tourist trap's grand reopening. Dipper hung in the back of the crowd, mindlessly drumming his fingers against a bobblehead of Stan someone had knocked off a shelf. The party was dull and boring compared to the wondrous events of last night. The portal was on, and Stan could finally start to repair it. It would be a torturous wait, but it was worth it for the real party Bill would bring to Earth. 

"Dipper! There you are!" Mabel pushed her way through the throng of customers, her eyes alight with joy at the sight of the town's support for their grunkle. "Grunkle Stan is about to start his speech!" 

"Great," Dipper groaned, shoving the bobblehead roughly into a shelf behind him. "Do I really have to stay and listen? I didn't do anything to help defeat Gideon!" He scratched at his neck, blissfully free of that wretched shock collar. His skin had been rubbed raw from the rough material, and the redness had yet to disappear. 

Mabel wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close, smiling sympathetically. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to. Stan will understand. Regrets aren't a fun thing to have." She released him and pointed proudly at herself as Dipper straightened his cap. "I'm here if you need to talk, okay?" 

Dipper nodded in acknowledgement and glanced at the exit. He felt the gift shop air was suffocating him with all the people taking up every inch of space. He shoved his way past people, sometimes purposefully elbowing someone hard enough to make them cry out in pain, and forced the exit door open before squeezing past a thick part of the crowd outside. The fresh air was a blessing after the stench of many sweaty people in the same room for a long time, and Dipper flopped onto the grass, relishing the prickly grass underneath his yellow sweater. 

"Not much longer, huh?" Dipper mused as he watched the fluffy snow white clouds drift across a clear blue sky. "Are you excited?"

"Excited?" Bill laughed, amused by such a silly question. "I've been waiting for this for millions of years, Pine Tree. Of course I'm excited! There might be a few obstacles in our path, but those will be ironed out just fine!" 

Dipper traced a star in the dirt beside him, a frown spreading across his face as he thought about the fate of his dimension. "Can... can we keep Mabel around?" he hesitantly asked Bill. The demon's relaxed mood instantly fired up at the mention of Mabel, and Dipper immediately regretted bringing up his sister. "I mean... I want her to be safe. She doesn't deserve to suffer, and she wouldn't be able to handle the monstrosities the portal would bring here." 

"Shooting Star is not important," Bill snapped, his anger chilling Dipper to the bone. "None of the worthless skin puppets you call family are. You do as I say, and you want what I want, got it?" His voice deepened until it sent a harsh pain through Dipper's head. 

Dipper winced and pressed a hand against his forehead. "I understand," he said, marveling at his own stupidity. "I won't question you again." The rumble of a car engine caught his attention, and he sat up, looking down the road to see a gleaming black car driving toward the Mystery Shack. Dipper quickly stood up, brushing dirt off his hands. 

The car parked in front of the porch, and two men climbed out of the car; both of them wore crisp professional suits and had earpieces plugged into their ears. They were government agents, Dipper realized in alarm. What the heck was the government doing at the Shack? He hurried forward, worrying that they were here because of the portal. It must have given off radiation or signals or something that the government might have picked up on; if so, Dipper had to get them away from the Shack as quickly as possible. 

"Hello!" Dipper skidded to a halt in front of the gift shop exit door, blocking the agents from entering. "Welcome to the Mystery Shack! Are you interested in checking out our fake attractions that are entirely made up and the only weird thing in town?" 

The agents exchanged an annoyed look at the kid preventing them from going inside. "Step aside, kid," one agent said. He had a thick mustache and a serious, almost bored, expression; his voice sounded equally bored like he wished for something more interesting to do. "We're here on government business." 

Suddenly the exit door swung open, and Stan stood in the doorway, faking a welcoming smile at the agents. "H- Dipper? What are you doing out here?" He switched his attention to Dipper, who was standing awkwardly beside the door that had nearly hit him. 

"I was getting some fresh air," Dipper replied, glancing nervously at the agents. "Do you know why, uh, they're here?" 

"Nope. Haven't got a clue. Here, come in, come in!" Stan stepped to the side and gestured for the agents to come inside. Dipper went in before the agents, hoping Stan could trick them into leaving. 

Mabel was sitting on the counter, kicking her legs against the wood as she read a yellowed old book in her lap. Dipper hopped onto the counter next to her and saw that she was reading the introductory pages to the journal. 

"I thought Grunkle Stan was using this," he said, bringing Mabel's attention to him. 

"I asked when he would finish with it, and he gave it back to me to give back to you," Mabel explained, shutting the journal and handing it to Dipper. The twins looked up as the agents entered the gift shop with Stan. "What are those guys doing here?" 

"I don't know," Dipper said, glaring at the agent with the mustache as he approached the vending machine. He read the agents' nametags as they searched the gift shop. The one with the mustache was Agent Powers. The other one was Agent Trigger. "But I don't want them here." His fingernails scratched against the countertop as Bill resisted the urge to kill the agents. 

"We're investigating the paranormal, and we have reason to suspect that this town contains evidence of the supernatural," Agent Powers was saying to Stan. Dipper wondered if his face was permanently set in a bored expression. 

Mabel gasped and began to wiggle in excitement. "Wait, you know about the supernatural?" she asked, looking like she was about to start jumping up and down. Having a bad feeling about this, Dipper wrapped his arms protectively around his journal. "Does that mean you're trained to fight demons and ghosts like in the movies?" 

"Mabel!" Dipper snapped at the same time Bill sighed, "She just can't stop being a snitch, can she?" 

Powers and Trigger gave Mabel an unimpressed look. "At the moment, we have not found physical specimens of supernatural entities, so no, we are not trained to fight demons and ghosts." 

"But you must have crazy powerful technology that can... um... kaboom them?" Mabel searched for the right words to voice her thoughts and failed spectacularly. "Like... like this journal!" She tugged the journal out of Dipper's arms before he could react. 

"Hey! Give that back!" Dipper protested, reaching up to activate his amulet. 

"Pine Tree, you idiot! Don't use the amulet in front of the government guys! You'll just prove them right!" Bill snapped, freezing his hand before Dipper could use the amulet.

Mabel held out the journal to the agents, and they examined the worn and tattered book curiously. "This journal contains loads of information about the supernatural and how to defeat them. My brother has been reading it all summer, but I'm sure your cool government computers can find more information than him." 

Dipper, offended, snapped, "The stuff in that journal is fake! Don't waste your time listening to her!" He angrily wrangled the book out of Mabel's hands, and the agents watched awkwardly as the twins wrestled in front of them. Dipper hid the journal behind his back, ducking behind Stan in case Mabel tried to grab it again. 

Mabel sighed and turned to face the agents, her eyes pleading. "The stuff in the journal really is real, I promise! My brother's just being weird and cranky." 

Dipper tugged on Stan's sleeve urgently, and Stan looked down at him curiously, though his frustration didn't entirely disappear. Dipper gestured for him to lean down, and Stan did as the agents handed Mabel a business card. 

"We can't let Mabel show them the journal," he whispered to his grunkle. "It has far too many dangerous secrets, and I don't trust them." 

Stan grinned and put his hands on his hips proudly. "Oh, I'm not planning on letting them find out anything." After one last attempt to persuade the agents to buy merchandise, Stan had Soos give them a sticker and headband. Agent Trigger grabbed an armful of bobbleheads before he left, apparently confiscating them as evidence. 

Now that the journal was completely safe, Dipper walked over to Mabel, scowling. "Mabel, why did you tell the agents about the journal?" he demanded as he tucked it into his sweater. "What if they try to steal it and abuse its secrets like Gideon? We can't trust them, we hardly know them!" 

Mabel clutched the card in her hands, and her cheery smile fell as Dipper lectured her. "But Dipper, don't you see? They're experts in the supernatural and have probably seen or fought cooler things than the stuff in Gravity Falls. If anyone can kick Bill out of your mind, it's them!" Her expression lit up with hope, and her mind wandered off to dream of a future that only existed in her imagination. 

"What is wrong with your sister, Pine Tree?" Bill asked, exasperated. 

To Dipper's surprise, Stan stepped forward and snatched the business card out of Mabel's hands. Mabel made a noise of protest and reached for the card, but Stan held out a hand to stop her. She pouted at him, angry at him for taking Dipper's side and not hers. 

"Mabel, you are not allowed to call the agents. I, for one, don't believe the crap they're spouting about investigating the paranormal," Stan said, reaching into his suit pocket. He pulled out a box full of random objects and placed the card in with the junk where it belonged. "Clearly they've never seen real weirdness if they're only now coming to this town." 

Mabel's eyes widened in outrage, and she bravely rebelled against Stan. "I don't care! If there's even a slight chance that they can help Dipper, I'm going to take it!" she snapped, standing her ground as Stan's impatience grew thin. 

Dipper stepped in between his angry sister and grunkle, annoyed at being talked about like he wasn't there. "Woah, woah, I don't need help!" he argued to Mabel. "What gave you that idea?" 

Both Stan and Mabel stared at him in disbelief like he was stupid for even asking that question. In retrospect, they were probably right, what with the Gideon fiasco still on their minds. Dipper decided to pretend he'd never said that and moved on. 

"Also if you tell the agents about Bill, their blood is going to be on your hands. If they even believe you about him." He chuckled in amusement at the thought. The agents were simple minded idiots; they acted like the supernatural was a game instead of a very real and very dangerous threat. They would never believe Mabel if she tried to convince them that Bill existed. 

"They'll believe me when I show them the journal!" Mabel said defensively. 

Stan shot her an angry glare. "No one is talking to the agents," he reminded them. 

But Dipper and Mabel ignored him, too fixated on arguing to listen. "Really? You'll show them a pretty little picture of things they've only dreamed about?" Dipper scoffed derisively. 

"I'd show them the real versions!" Mabel snapped, taking a step closer to Dipper and jabbing a finger at him. "They'll believe what they see with their own two eyes, and then I'll tell them about Bill." 

"Oh, really? You're gonna show them a gnome or two? A fairy?" Dipper mocked, opening the journal to each detailed page, which from an outsider's perspective would look like the author had a vivid imagination. He flipped to the next page and tapped it. "Definitely don't raise the dead on them. Zombies are bad news." 

"I'm not going to raise the dead!" 

"Kids!" Stan's yell interrupted Dipper and Mabel's argument, and the twins froze and looked at their grunkle. Stan's eyebrows were pinched in frustration, and he addressed both of them in a scolding tone. "Dipper, stop being mean to your sister. Mabel, you are not calling the agents. Now go to your rooms. No one wants to listen to you two fight." When both twins opened their mouths to argue, Stan interrupted them. "No arguing. Now go before I ground you. Both of you." 

"But I didn't do anything!" Dipper protested, appalled by the injustice he was facing. "Mabel's the one causing problems, not me!" He ignored the hurt look on Mabel's face. 

"You're the one who started arguing with her," Stan pointed out. He remained firm in his decision and began to usher the twins out of the gift shop. "Get ready for the party and don't start arguing again." 

"I'm going to rip his face off for this," Bill grumbled as Dipper climbed up the stairs to the attic. "We should be the ones ordering him around!" 

Dipper tossed the journal onto his bed and gazed out the attic window. The yard below was empty of any vehicle sans Stan's car; the agents were long gone by that point. Soon Stan would be expecting him, Mabel, Wendy, and Soos to start decorating for the karaoke party that night. Hopefully the party would distract Mabel from the agents. If it didn't... the bottomless pit seemed like a good place to hide their bodies. 

___

The front yard of the Mystery Shack was littered with confetti from Mabel's confetti cannon, which she had run around shooting for ten minutes. Mabel pretended to be busy examining her karaoke machine on the makeshift stage for the karaoke event. As excited as she was for the party, her thoughts were occupied by the business card Stan had taken from her. She would never be able to enjoy the fun when she had finally found people who could actually help her and Dipper. Switching through the songs without looking at their names, Mabel carefully looked around for Stan and Dipper. 

She couldn't see Stan, but she saw Dipper and Wendy hanging up black light posters on the exterior of the Shack. Deeming the coast clear enough, Mabel abandoned the karaoke machine and snuck toward the front door as quietly as she could. Her foot bumped against something hard in the grass as she neared the porch, and she froze, scared that she would trip and give herself away. She looked down and saw a small black light lying in the grass, turned off. She picked it up, deciding to save the next person who might trip over it some trouble. Before anyone could spot her, she went into the Shack. 

It was eerily quiet in the empty house, what with everyone setting up for the party. She didn't know if Stan was actually in the Shack, but as she snuck cautiously through the house, she saw no signs of his presence. She played with the black light in her hands, flicking it on and off and giggling at how it made her shoes glow brightly and turn neon. Outside Stan's bedroom door, she paused and listened closely; it would suck if she was caught right at her intended destination. But no light shone from beneath the door, and Mabel couldn't hear the sounds of an old man doing whatever old men do when they're alone. She slowly opened the door, closing her eyes in case Stan really was in his room and doing something disgusting like feeding his stomach crackers (she had yet to get over seeing that memory in his mind). 

When nobody started yelling at her sudden appearance, Mabel opened her eyes to see that Stan' s room was indeed empty. The lights were off, and with the light coming in from the hall she could see that his room was the messiest one she had ever seen. It was even more messy than Dipper's, which Mabel hadn't thought was possible. Her brother had no concept of cleanliness at all. 

Mabel carefully stepped around the very suspicious junk littering the floor, wrinkling her nose at the musty smell infesting the room. How did Stan live in that stink? She would be disappointed if the business card was not in his room, but it seemed like where he would put it and anything else he confiscated from the twins. A chest in the back caught her eye, and she hefted it open, slightly afraid of what she might see. 

"Ew!" She grimaced at the sight of dozens of magazines about fully clothed women. She slammed the chest shut, shuddering at her grunkle's weird taste in magazines. At least they weren't about naked women. That would have been traumatizing to discover. 

Backing away from the chest like it would severely harm her if she stayed too close to it, Mabel continued to rummage through Stan's junk. A giant picture of him hung unevenly on the wall, and Mabel noticed a small crack behind it that she could see into. She gripped the edges of the picture and, as she'd guessed, swung it open. Behind the picture was a small compartment; the only object inside was the box Stan had put the business card in. The card in question sat atop the other items, and Mabel plucked it out of the box and shut the picture. Or tried to shut the picture. The frame was heavier than she'd expected, and it took most of her strength to shut the compartment. It closed with a soft click, letting Mabel know she'd succeeded in closing it. 

Card in hand, Mabel dialed Agent Powers' phone number onto Stan's wired phone and held her breath as she waited for the call to connect. Now she just had to convince the agents to come back and listen to her. Oh, and steal the journal from Dipper so she could show it to them. Mabel grimaced at the thought; Dipper would be keeping an even closer eye on the journal after that morning. How could she sneak it away from him? 

The phone picked up with a beep, and Agent Powers' voice came through. "Agent Powers here. Who is this?" 

Mabel twirled the cord around her finger as she replied, "It's me, Mabel. The girl from the Mystery Shack. I told you about a crazy cool journal about the supernatural?" 

"Oh, it's you. You're certain this journal will help with our case?" Powers questioned, sounding like he didn't fully believe her. 

"Abso-toodle-lutely!" Mabel replied, oblivious to the door slowly pushing open. 

"Alright," Powers said reluctantly, hating that his best lead was the word of a twelve year old girl. Alas, there were no other loose ends in the town that he could investigate more deeply. "We're on our way." 

"Oh! We're also having a party tonight if you want to come," Mabel invited. Both agents looked like they needed a break; they were far too serious for her liking. "There will be karaoke."

"Just show us the journal, kid. We're too busy to attend a party." Before Mabel could try and convince him to live a little, a finger slammed into the end call button, and Mabel gulped nervously as she looked up. 

Stan gazed down at her, his eyes shadowed in anger and disappointment. "I told you not to call those agents," he said sternly. He put a hand on her back and ushered her toward the door. 

"But they might be able to help Dipper!" Mabel protested, grabbing the edge of Stan's bed and clinging to it with all her might. Stan hesitated in trying to force her out of the room, unwilling to hurt his niece. 

Stan grunted in frustration. "Spilling this town's secrets to a bunch of government agents isn't going to help your brother. Heck, they might detain him if you tell them he's possessed by a demon." 

"They wouldn't! Not if they knew the situation!" Mabel argued, backing away to the door. Stan crossed his arms and let out a tired sigh. 

"Go enjoy the party, Mabel. ‘Cause after that, you're grounded." 

"What?" Mabel cried indignantly. She stopped in the doorway and glared at Stan petulantly. "Why?" 

"You disobeyed me and called the agents when I explicitly told you not to. Now GO!" Stan pointed at the hall, the lights beyond shining brightly compared to his dim bedroom. 

Mabel's blood boiled in anger. "Fine!" she snapped, her voice shaking in hurt and rage. "I'm sure I'll have great fun at a party knowing my brother is losing himself day by day and that you did nothing to stop it!" She slammed the door shut behind her as she stormed through the hall, infuriated with her grunkle. What was his problem with the agents? Why couldn't he just let her explain? She kicked the front door open angrily and went to the stage to sulk. 

Unfortunately, Dipper was there. Fortunately, he was reading the journal. If she distracted him enough, she could nab the journal while he wasn't looking. She plopped onto the stage next to him, letting out a long irritated sigh. 

"What's got you in a mood?" Dipper asked, immediately recognizing that she was more upset than usual. He shut the journal and set it beside him, though to Mabel's frustration he put it on the opposite side of him, away from her. "Did the karaoke machine break? Please say it did." 

Mabel turned onto her side and mumbled, "Grunkle Stan won't let me talk to the agents." 

"As he should," Dipper said, looking pleased. "Though it is a shame I can't mess with them. They look like they'd scream like little girls." He laughed, a wistful look entering his eyes that Mabel did not like one bit. "How badly do you think I can mutilate someone's body to make them unrecognizable?" 

Mabel gagged at the horrible picture his words brought to mind. She remembered the bat he'd ripped to pieces and was thankful she hadn't been around to see or hear it. The idea of Dipper doing the same to humans was enough to give her nightmares. 

"And that's why we need the agents' help," she muttered, rubbing away the goosebumps erupting across her arms. She hadn't meant for Dipper to hear her, but he was sitting right next to her and heard it as clear as day. 

"No one can help me, Mabel," Dipper said nonchalantly, looking her straight in the eye. "We've known this for weeks. You really need to stop lying to yourself." 

Mabel rolled onto her back, gazing at the darkening sky above her. The sun was setting, dying the blue sky with light shades of orange and pink. The beautiful colors managed to brighten Mabel's spirit a bit. But only a bit. 

"You're wrong," she said. "They can help, I know they can. And you'll be free, and we can have the best summer of our lives. Just like we imagined." 

Dipper rolled his eyes, clearly not believing her. "Well, have fun getting your hopes crushed. Again." He stood up, reaching for the journal. "I'll be here messing with the guests if you need me." 

Mabel briefly panicked as he picked up the journal, realizing that her best shot at getting the journal was about to leave. Without thinking, she jumped to her feet and pushed Dipper to the floor. Dipper dropped the journal as he used both hands to balance himself before he could fall on his face. Mabel scooped up the journal and leaped off the stage, running straight for the trees. On the stage, Dipper adjusted his sweater, scowling. 

"What the heck was that for-" He looked around for Mabel and froze when he saw that she was no longer on the stage with him. Annoyed, he leaned down to pick up his journal... and found that it was gone. 

Mabel clutched the journal tightly behind a tree trunk, hearing her brother call out for her. He sounded furious, but she didn't dare step into his line of sight. The amulet was unbeatable if she had no one to help her, and nobody else wanted the agents around. This was a mission she had to take alone. She moved as quietly as possible through the woods; any sound or sudden movement would alert Dipper to her location, and it would be game over. At least her life wasn't in danger. The agents, though... Dipper could not catch her with them. 

She could hear the chatter of crowds heading for the Mystery Shack's party as she moved through the trees. She caught glimpses of excited people ready to have fun, but none of them were the serious agents from earlier. As she watched the crowds of townspeople go by, a sleek black car rolled past on the road. It looked exactly like the government vehicles from movies, and Mabel darted out from the trees and into the crowd. 

"Sorry! Excuse me!" she squeaked as she pushed past people. Some glared angrily at her as she bumped into them, but most smiled easily at her and let it go. Man, the people of Gravity Falls were so easygoing. Mabel couldn't wait for the party to start and watch everyone let loose. But first, she had a mission. 

The government vehicle pulled to a stop as she burst out of the crowd into the road. She was far enough to be safe but close enough that the agents could recognize her. She held the journal over her head, waving it around for the agents to see. The front doors of the car swung open, and Agents Powers and Trigger stepped out, looking as serious as they had been when they barged into the Shack. Mabel skipped over to them, unable to contain her excitement any longer. 

"Where's this journal you claim is important?" Agent Powers asked, his thick mustache ruffling as he spoke. Mabel would laugh at how silly it looked if it wasn't rude to do so. 

Mabel handed the journal to Powers, and words bubbled out of her before she could control herself. "So my brother and I are having problems with this weird triangle demon who won't leave my brother alone, and we've tried everything to get him to leave like exorcism, summoning. None of it has worked!" She paused to take a deep breath and continued. "That journal is what we mainly used for advice on it. As you can see, it's full of crazy whacko spooky things. The demon has his own page- his name is Bill Cipher by the way- and it might have secret information on it that Dipper- that's my brother- and I haven't been able to find. But I bet you can since you're government agents, and the government has awesome super powerful technology! So can you help us?" Mabel clasped her hands together, a desperate expression on her face. 

As she was speaking, Agent Powers had been flipping through the journal. His eyebrows were raised so high they practically disappeared into his hairline. Agent Trigger looked equally skeptical. Mabel's heart beat in her ears, and she held her breath in anticipation of their answer. 

Finally Powers broke the tense silence. "Kid, I'd love to believe you, but this just looks like more junk from your uncle's gift shop," he said as gently as he could while sounding insulting. "I mean, leprecorn?" He turned the journal around so Mabel could see the drawing of a unicorn with a leprechaun's face. "I can't be the only one that thinks that's not funny."

Agent Trigger nodded. "I can confirm. Not funny." 

"But-but it is real!" Mabel cried, her heart shattering into a million pieces. "I can show you! Really!" She snatched the journal back from Powers and gestured wildly to the forest. "There are gnomes in there, they tried to kidnap me! Look, see, Bill's right here!" She rapidly turned to Bill's page and froze. The pages about Bill were gone. All that was left were a few pieces of paper sticking out from where the pages had been; clearly it had been torn out. Mabel's stomach churned as she remembered that she herself had torn out the pages in anger. 

Her actions only increased Powers and Trigger's skepticism. "Clearly you've got an overactive imagination," Powers noted, still looking bored despite Mabel's frantic flipping through the journal. "Your brother and uncle were right. We shouldn't have listened to you. Now if you'll excuse us, we have important paperwork to do." 

"Boring paperwork," Trigger added very seriously. 

Mabel felt like the world was falling apart around her as her greatest hope in saving her brother turned away from her and stepped toward their car. No... she couldn't let them leave. They had to stay. They had to help. She wasn't going to give up, not when she was so close to a solution. She practically tore through the pages, searching desperately for a spell to prove to the agents that the journal wasn't some silly joke. Her eyes landed on a bunch of words that looked like Latin. A spell! Her hopes lifted again as she called out to the agents. 

"Wait! The stuff in here really is real, I can show you!" she called before they even set foot near their car. 

Powers glanced over his shoulder, unamused. "Stop wasting our time, kid. We have better things to do." He took another step toward the car. 

Mabel panicked and began to read the spell without looking at what it did. She didn't stop to think if the spell could be potentially dangerous; all her thoughts were focused on Dipper. She would save him no matter the cost. 

"Corpus levitas! Diablo dominus!" Mabel recited, causing the agents to pause and look at her weirdly. "Mondo vicium!" Her voice echoed around her and the agents, magically enhanced by the spell. Mabel nearly dropped the journal as the ground abruptly shook beneath her. 

Several feet away the earth split open, sending a tremor through the ground that knocked Mabel over. The agents stumbled a little, but they regained their balance almost instantly. Sickly green smoke wafted out of the large crack, accompanied by an unnatural green glow. A hand reached out of the crack and viciously slammed into the dirt; its fingers dug into the ground like claws, leaving long streaks as the hand propped up a human-like shape. A head peered out of the smoke, eyes blank and eerily glowing. Mabel's breath caught in her throat, and she shook in fear. Glowing eyes... A body appeared over the edge as whatever monstrosity was before her climbed out of the crack. Decaying flesh and putrid liquid dripped off its body as it limped toward Mabel and the agents. Dried blood coated a skeleton, and tattered clothes hung off the walking remains. A zombie. 

Mabel screamed and scrambled to hide behind the agents. "Kill it! Kill it!" she shrieked, disgusted by the odor attacking her nose. 

Powers quickly complied, his serious expression finally showing another emotion. Fear. The agent pulled out a gun and swiftly shot the zombie in the head three times in a row. The zombie, being dead already, was unaffected and continued to limp forward. Trigger tried to shoot the zombie as well, but the creature was impervious to bullets. Mabel flipped the journal open to the zombie page to see what it said about handling zombies, but the words blurred in front of her as she panicked. Powers hefted a rock off the ground and smashed the zombie's head clean off its body. Decayed liquids sprayed from the corpse as it fell to the ground and never moved again. 

Mabel breathed a sigh of relief and came out from behind Agent Trigger. "At least it's only one," she said, forgetting that the universe was cruel and unjust and wanted everyone to suffer. 

On cue, the ground shook so badly that Mabel temporarily thought an earthquake was starting. She watched in horror as more cracks split the ground open, the same green smoke flowing into the air. Unlike the first crack, multiple zombies crawled out of the cracks. Some had eyeballs hanging out of their sockets, and some had their brains exposed to the open air. The putrid scent of decay filled the air, and Mabel plugged her nose in disgust. The agents fired wildly into the hoard of zombies limping their way, and Mabel backed close to the agents, a chill running down her spine as the spooky scary skeletons advanced on them. 

Suddenly Agent Trigger screamed. Mabel spun around to see a zombie dragging him off into the bushes, Trigger clawing desperately at the ground for escape. Mabel clamped her hands over her mouth to stifle her own scream as Agent Powers was taken along with him. The agents' screams faded into the darkness with them, and Mabel was left alone in the twilight with murderous hungry zombies. Terrified, Mabel ran down the road to the Shack. The zombies followed her, groaning and moaning after their prey. 

As the black lights of the party shone up ahead, Mabel was relieved to hear silence come from the yard. The people at the party must have felt the ground shake and gone home. It sucked that the party had ended before it started, but Mabel would rather have her friends be safe than eaten by zombies. She spotted Dipper tapping his foot impatiently beside the stage and felt another wave of relief wash over her. With the amulet, he could deal with the zombies without breaking a sweat. Panting, she ran up to him and bent to gasp for breath. Dipper's expression was angry and stern; he almost looked exactly like Stan had in his room. 

"Mabel," he started, his tone scathing and cold. "What was the one thing I asked you not to do tonight?" 

Mabel awkwardly smiled and shrugged. "Raise the dead." 

"And what did you do?" Dipper pointed at the green smoke rising into the dark night sky. 

"Raise the dead," Mabel admitted, guilt eating at her as she thought of the agents being dragged away into the depths of the forest. Groans sounded behind her, and she looked back to discover that the zombies had followed her to the Shack. 

"Looks like I'm going to have to clean up your mess," Dipper said, stepping protectively in front of Mabel with his fingers brushing the amulet. "Stay behind me." The zombies closest to them were ripped in half by the amulet, and Dipper and Mabel slowly backed away to the front door. 

Soos suddenly stood in front of him, his arm extended to shield them from the mob closing in on them. "Get back, dudes," he said. "This is about to get intense." 

"Mabel, my journal," Dipper ordered, looking far too calm for the situation. Mabel handed him the journal without protest, and he scanned the zombie page. "Seriously? No weaknesses?" 

"Look out!" Mabel cried as a zombie lashed an arm at Dipper. She pulled her brother back seconds before the zombie's fingers tore through his sweater. 

"Dudes, stay calm. I've been training for this moment my entire life," Soos said reassuringly as he blocked the twins from the zombies. "With all the horror movies I've seen, I know literally everything there is to know about how to avoid zombies." 

Dipper raised a finger, about to point out the zombie about to bite his shoulder, but it was too late. The zombie sank its teeth into Soos' shoulder, and Soos' eyes immediately went blank and began to glow. His skin paled to a sickly color, and he turned to face the twins, saliva dripping down his chin. 

"On second thought, gonna flip the script. Can I eat your brains? Yay or nay?" Soos asked. "Seeing some yay faces over here." Before he could take a single step toward the twins, he was thrown back by the amulet's powers. 

Dipper sprinted away from the zombies, and Mabel followed, casting a worried look at their zombified friend. She realized Dipper was heading for the golf cart, and she ran harder, her leg muscles screaming and burning from strain. As zombies knocked over the golf cart and ripped the vehicle apart, the twins stopped, Dipper finally looking scared of the threat surrounding them. 

Soos and the rest of the zombies rounded a corner, and Soos chuckled. "Oh, that's a bummer. Good news for me, though. Heh heh." 

"Soos!" Dipper yelled. "That's not helpful right now!" 

"Sorry, dude, I just really want those brains!" Soos apologized, not sorry at all. 

Mabel yelped as a blue glow surrounded her and floated her up to the gift shop door. Dipper remained on the ground below, splitting apart zombies with the amulet and laughing joyfully as the decayed blood splattered across the ground. Mabel refused to let him fight alone. She picked up a nearby rotating light and threw it at one of the zombies. The light fell down the zombie's throat, and multicolored lights flashed across the yard through the zombie. Mabel had to admit, it looked very cool. 

"Give it up, dudes. Your fighting is only making us look more rad!" Soos exclaimed as he and the other zombies stalked toward the twins with their arms raised in the classic zombie pose. 

"Get inside!" Dipper yelled, floating onto the porch and pushing Mabel through the door. "Board up the windows! I'll hold them off!" He shoved the gift shop door shut as a zombie reached inside, and the limb fell to the floor with a shudder. It twitched slightly, and Dipper stomped on it until it ceased to move. 

Mabel jumped as a window shattered, glass flying across the room. The door clattered to the floor, zombies crawling through the doorway. Dipper paled, clutching his amulet tightly and blowing up several zombies. But it wasn't enough. Too many zombies were crawling into the Shack, their growls filling the room until it was all Mabel could hear. Dipper kept tearing up zombies, his expression turning into panic as more kept filling in the ranks he killed. 

"Bill, how do we stop this?" Dipper cried, unconsciously holding onto Mabel as the zombie's shadows fell across them. 

Guilt ate viciously at Mabel's rapidly pounding heart. "I'm sorry, Dipper, this is all my fault!" she confessed. "I should have paid attention to what the spell was before I cast it!" 

Zombies slammed against the wall, writhing and groaning, but Dipper's body was starting to quiver from exhaustion. He leaned against Mabel, putting every ounce of his energy into freezing the zombies already in the gift shop and the ones coming in. Mabel supported him with her shoulder as his legs began to shake. 

"I... I don't know how much longer I can hold.. them," Dipper huffed, all of his weight leaning on Mabel. The magic around the zombies began to waver as the amulet's energy depleted. 

"You can do it, Dipper!" Mabel encouraged her brother. "I believe in you!" 

With a flicker, the glow surrounding the zombies died, and Dipper fell over, gasping and shaking. Mabel caught him before he fell, and the twins stared in fear as the zombies slowly crept toward them. Mabel screamed as a zombie grabbed Dipper by the arm and lifted him in the air, jaws wide open to bite him. Dipper struggled in the zombie's grip, but the zombie was too strong. It brought Dipper closer and closer to its gaping jaws, preparing for a bite. 

Suddenly a wooden baseball bat struck the zombie in the head. Decayed blood squirted from the neck as the body fell to the floor, the head flying across the room. Standing in the dim light from the hallway, clutching the bat tightly in his hands and panting, was Stan. 

"Grunkle Stan!" Mabel and Dipper cried in unison at the sight of their savior. They scurried to hide behind him as zombies crept through the room, and Stan killed a few more zombies before addressing the twins. 

"You two. Attic. Now," he ordered. 

"But-" Dipper began to protest. 

"I said NOW!" Stan snapped, glaring at them so fiercely the twins obeyed silently. 

The Shack was dark, the lights shut off because of the cancelled party. Mabel helped Dipper run up the stairs to the attic, hearing grunts and shouts behind them as Stan fought the zombies. Mabel would have been immensely grateful for Stan's presence if she wasn't so terrified that she could hardly think. She threw open the attic door and shut it; the thudding sounds outside were coming closer. 

"C'mon, journal, there must be something in here about defeating zombies," Dipper muttered as he skimmed the journal again. 

Mabel jumped as something pounded against the door. She backed away until she was right beside Dipper, and the twins watched the door warily as something continued to beat at it. The door flung open, and Stan entered, suit torn and stained with zombie blood. He shut the door and hurried toward the kids.

"Alright. Will one of you explain why there are zombies trashing our house?" he demanded. 

Mabel hung her head in shame, feeling guilty again for her mistake. "I'm sorry. I did it. I accidentally summoned zombies to prove to the agents that the supernatural was real," she admitted. 

Dipper slapped his forehead in exasperation. "Seriously, Mabel? Do you not think before you act?" 

Mabel flinched, stung by the anger in his voice. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I didn't want this to happen. I mean it."

"It's okay, we know," Stan said. Mabel noticed that he no longer had his bat but had golden brass knuckles on his hands. "Dipper, does the journal say anything about zombies?" 

Dipper hesitated, glancing to the air beside him. Probably looking at Bill. "Yes," he said reluctantly. "But... it involves singing." 

Mabel perked up. "Singing?" she asked excitedly. 

Stan read the journal upside down and frowned. "I don't see where it says that, kid," he said. "Maybe that demon is pulling your leg." 

"In case you haven't noticed, we're in a life and death situation," Dipper pointed out coldly. "And Bill doesn't exactly want to die." He put the journal on the floor and held out his hand to Mabel. "Black light, please," he said, pointing at the black light still wrapped around her wrist. 

Mabel looked down at it in surprise, having forgotten it was there. "What do you need this for?" she asked, placing it in Dipper's palm. 

Her brother turned the light on and held it above the journal. Mabel and Stan gasped in amazement as fluorescent ink was revealed from the purplish black light. Scrawled across the zombie page in big letters was a short sentence telling the weakness of zombies. 

"Invisible ink," Dipper explained, flipping to another page and showing the same bright ink revealing more information than Mabel could imagine. "The author hid a lot of his secrets in it with invisible ink. Bill just told me about it." He turned back to the zombie page and let Mabel and Stan read it. 

"Invisible ink," Stan repeated, eyes wide. 

"Oh my gosh, we're going to have to sing!" Mabel jumped for joy at the most exciting news she'd received all day. "Love Patrol Alpha time! Yay!" 

Dipper and Stan looked far from enthusiastic as Mabel led them onto the roof. She scanned the yard for her karaoke machine and spotted it sitting on the stage, right where she'd left. She glanced behind her and saw Dipper helping Stan onto Wendy's break platform. 

"Dipper, can you bring the karaoke machine up here?" Mabel asked as Dipper and Stan stood beside her. "I kinda left it down there." She pointed down at the zombie infested yard. Her karaoke machine stood out against the dullness of decayed flesh in its pink and glittery glory.

Dipper nodded and floated the karaoke machine onto the platform. Mabel handed him and Stan microphones before forcing them to stand in a specific order. Dipper was on the right, Stan was in the middle, and Mabel was on the left. She selected the song and tapped her microphone to catch the zombie's attention like they were an audience of eager fans. 

"Hello? Is this thing on?" she tested, hearing her voice echo around the yard. "Welcome, zombie ladies and zombie gentlemen! We're Love Patrol Alpha!" 

"I never agreed to that name!" Dipper added. He and Stan stood stiffly like they were statues, looking like they'd been forced to do the most horrific thing imaginable. 

"Hit it, boys!" Mabel commanded as the music began to play. It was a catchy pop song, one of her favorites, called Taking Over Midnight. 

Dipper started the song, wishing zombies could be killed in another way. "Friday night, and we're gonna party 'till dawn," he sang reluctantly. "Don't worry, Daddy, I've got my favorite dress on?" He squinted judgmentally at the lyrics and said, "Mabel, this is stupid!" 

Mabel picked up the song next, dancing as she sang. "We're rolling to the party. The boys are looking our way! We just keep dancing, we don't care what they say! And all the boys are getting up in my face!" She jumped with a cry as a zombie crawled onto the roof. She kicked it off the edge, and it fell to the ground with a loud splatter of rotten insides. "Guys, we have to sing together, or it won't work!" she said urgently. 

Stan heaved a sigh and began to sing as reluctantly as Dipper. Silly boys. "Boys are a bore. Let's show them the door." 

Together, the trio sang, "We're taking over the dance floor!" The zombies froze in their approach to the Shack as the three part harmony reached their ears. And thus, the chorus began. 

"Ooooh! Girls do what we like, ooooh! We're taking over tonight!" Mabel, Dipper, and Stan sang, Dipper and Stan finally getting into the song and singing enthusiastically. They had to admit, karaoke was more fun than they'd thought. "Oooh! Girls do what we like, oooh! We're taking over tonight!" 

Below, the zombies clamped their hands over their ears and groaned as they were assaulted by their greatest weakness. Brain juices sprayed through the air as multiple zombies' heads exploded. The twice dead corpses fell to the ground, and more zombies followed, decorating the yard with a scene straight out of a horror movie. 

"We're the queens of the disco!" the trio continued to sing, the exploding zombies percussion to the song. They effortlessly slid into the key change, and more zombies collapsed to the music. "Oooh, girls do what we like, oooh! We're taking over tonight!" 

A zombie crawled onto the platform, groaning loudly, and Mabel pulled out the confetti cannon she'd been saving for the party. She aimed at the zombie's head and fired. The head flew across the yard and landed perfectly into a bowl of punch. Despite the zombie parts scattered across the ground and the destroyed bits of the Shack, the trio were energized by the fun they'd had killing zombies with song. 

"Pines, Pines, Pines!" they chanted, claiming their victory over the walking dead that had tried to invade their home. Mabel smiled, her guilt over the zombies fading to happiness. For the first time in weeks, Dipper looked like himself again as he joined in chanting their last name. 

Maybe the night hadn't been so bad after all. 

___

"Boy, that was fun!" Bill said cheerfully as Dipper headed back into the Shack with his grunkle and sister. "Shooting Star should summon zombies again some time." 

Eh, unlikely, Dipper thought, looking around at the gut infested living room. And she definitely won't if we ask her. 

Stan cleared his throat, bringing the twins' attention to him. "Look, kids, about that journal," he began, glancing at the book Dipper held tightly. 

"What about it?" Dipper hid it behind his back. "You're not going to take it away, are you? Even though it saved us tonight?" 

"The demon in your head saved us, not the journal," Stan pointed out. "But no, I'm not going to take it away. I just wanted to ask you two to stop getting involved with the supernatural stuff in this town. It's dangerous, and you might end up killed." 

"Kinda hard to avoid it when it's in your brain," Dipper shot back, and to his surprise, Mabel nodded in agreement. 

"Bill is the most dangerous being in this town," Mabel said, "and he's hurt us more than magic flashlights and gnomes ever have." 

"Aww, she's too kind," Bill said, faking bashfulness.