Chapter Text
The constant beeping of the machines around him were the only things keeping Dipper steady at this point. He'd traced the I.V.s and breathing tube that were keeping his sibling alive hundreds of times over already, praying to whatever gods or goddesses existed that she would pull through. He was the only one who still held hope. The doctors had already warned him, Grunkle Stan, and their parents that the chance she would pull through was drastically small. The machines were the only thing keeping her alive, and even then...
Dipper rubbed his face wearily, the bags under his eyes feeling heavier with each monotonous beep. His face, normally shaved in a neat soul patch, was prickly with a growing beard, a visual representation of his lack of self care. There were times where he debated getting up and taking a shower or quick shave but he refused to leave Mabel’s side. Maybe she would wake up. That's what he kept thinking. And so even after his parents had returned to Piedmont and Grunkle Stan took back up to the Mystery Shack, Dipper remained. He would talk to her until his voice went hoarse, reciting stories about their grand times in the mystery hotspot that was Gravity Falls, Oregon. Of course, she didn't stir from her comatose state, but he hoped the stories would drag her back to him.
They'd been damn near inseparable since the fateful year he dug up that old journal, and their friendship and relationship had flourished. They even planned on going to college together, here in Gravity Falls. That was when it happened. He could still hear the grinding squeal of the brakes as he slammed down on them, the entire car skidding and swinging out in an attempt to avoid the oncoming 18-wheeler. He wasn't fast enough, the truck driver hadn't woken up fast enough. The truck slammed into the twins' small car, metal grinded against metal and burned rubber took over every other smell.
An ambulance was on them in no time, but Dipper barely remembered. Mabel had taken the brunt of the blow, but the second hand car had no air bag system, and she was lucky she hadn't been completely crushed. Instead the metal of the vehicles had almost formed a cocoon, but her head had slammed entirely too hard against the oncoming grill. Even now, she bore browning bruises across her forehead and face. Dipper had escaped with a minor concussion and a traumatic replaying of the event, finding every possible way this could have been avoided.
If only he had taken his parents suggestion to fly. If only they had taken that rest stop earlier. Someone else would have surely suffered, but not Mabel. Not his sister.
She had been the one to insist on a road trip, making a big deal about moving away to go to college. Their parents weren't entirely thrilled that the twins wanted to go to college in Gravity Falls rather than somewhere closer to home, or to a better standing college. Gravity Falls College was just a community college, but neither Dipper or Mabel really cared. It had become their home away from home a long time ago. So they boxed up what they could fit in the small Ford Focus that they had saved up for together, and headed off to Oregon...
“Dipper?”
The young adult’s drooping eyelids snapped open in a sudden panic, to find the voice belonged to Grunkle Stan.
“Oh, Stan,” Dipper tried to smile, but it was as if his dark bags were pushing his face down. The older man was looking even older than he was when the twins were only 12, but he held himself with the same composure. He had a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a plastic bag in the other. The staff he had used as a show for guests to the mystery shack was now used for support as he hobbled forward. To say he was entirely unable to walk without it was an exaggeration, but he found it easier these days to use a cane.
“Kid,” Stan sighed, walking to the table by Mabel's bed and removing the wilting flowers. “You can't stay here the rest of your-”
“Yes, I can,” Dipper interrupted, rubbing his eyes and already feeling tired of this argument. It wasn't the first time Stan had tried and he doubted it was the last. But it was a game they were playing every other day now.
“It's not healthy,” Stan insisted firmly, throwing the new flowers in the water. “It was just an accident, you need to stop blaming yourself, and start moving on.”
“She's my sister,” Dipper whispered, lips pursing.
“I'm not saying you need to drop her, kid. But look at yourself! You really think she'd want you to be this way?”
“Don't talk like she's dead,” Dipper said sharply, eyes tearing away from his sister and focusing on Stan.
“I'm not, but I'm pretty sure the nurses are complaining about your smell every time they need to come in here,” Stan argued, holding a hand up defensively. Dipper wrinkled his nose, remembering how Mabel would bother him about his lack of showering habits as kids. His shoulders slumped. “Look, how about I sit here and you go take a shower. Clean up a little, at least.” Stan insisted.
Normally, Stan would be trying to push Dipper out completely, to pick up everything he had dropped since the accident. This time, he was pushing for bare minimum. Dipper nodded and stood up, realizing how weird his legs felt. He'd been sitting for a long time, getting up for the bathroom as a rare necessity. Stan shoved the plastic bag at Dipper then guided him towards the bathroom. The room came equipped with a simple standing shower, Dipper had just never bothered to utilize it until now.
His exhaustion riddled brain slipped in and out of consciousness as he turned on the hot water. It was like fire, scorching his neglected skin and wiping off stagnant grime. It felt good, even if it burned a little bit. He scrubbed as fast as his body would let him, although by now, even with the boiling water, he was really feeling his exhaustion. Mostly because he was required to actually move to accomplish this task.
Stepping out of the shower he wiped away the fog on the mirror and sloppily shaved the bristling facial hair back to its patch. Sliding into clean clothes was like a godsend, but as he stepped out of the bathroom, he felt like he might just pass out.
Stan had already fallen asleep in the chair that Dipper had occupied, leaving the comfier chair in the corner available. He wanted to stay awake just a little longer, but as he sunk into the cushions his entire body worked against him to shut him down. Sleep came like a thick cotton quilt, forceful but comforting. For the first time in three days he let himself sleep. Until-
“Hey, Pine Tree!”
Dippers eyes snapped open and he leaped to his feet, finding himself standing face to face with a glowing yellow demon, single eye wide open. If he had a mouth, Dipper was sure he would be smirking. The rest of the world around them was unsaturated and gray, the beeping of Mabel’s monitors suddenly absent and leaving the room unpleasantly quiet.
“Bill!” Dipper wasn't sure how to go about the sudden audience with the dream demon. When was the last time they had seen him? Two years ago? Mabel and Dipper had been 15 that summer, and Bill had tried yet again to steal Dippers journal and destroy it. With the help of Preston Northwest. Who had made a deal with Bill. For what, Dipper didn’t know, all he knew was that the yearly escapades with the dream demon had left many a sour impression.
“Surprised to see me, Pine Tree?” He said almost gleefully. He floated closer, twirling his cane.“This time I know for sure you missed me. I mean, 2 years is a long time for humans, right?”
“What do you want?” Dipper asked with a scowl. There was no way this was just a random happening, not when it was Bill.
“What, don't want to catch up? I've been doing a lot on my end, kid. And it looks like you two have been, too.” He laughed, making Dippers eye twitch.
“Shut up and tell me what you want.”
“Whoa there, someone got even more rude since the last time I paid a visit!” Bill replied, hand pressed against his brick in mock hurt. “I even brought you a gift.”
He snapped his fingers and the hospital window sprung open. The corpse of a deer flew in, slamming into Dipper. It didn't have a head. He yelped and pushed it off, feeling blood soak into his clothing, still warm. He tried to remind himself it was just the Mindscape, that there was nothing real about this but the slick wetness felt real.
“What the hell, Bill?!” Dipper yelled. Cipher was laughing and with a snap of his fingers, the corpse hopped up as if wasn't a horrific headless abomination oozing red, and pranced out the window.
“You never were a big fan of my gifts,” Bill mused.
“Just tell me why you're here,” Dipper urged, trying to get his heart rate back down. If Bill was trying to rattle him.... Well, it worked.
“Like you don't know!” Bill jabbed, floating over to Mabel. Dipper made a noise of protest, standing and wanting to swat the stupid triangle away from her. He placed a hand on her head. “You know she's dying.”
“W-wait!” Dipper called as the triangle spun and began to float away. The demon stopped, spinning languidly to face the human. “What are you talking about?”
“She won't last long in this state, kid,” Bill replied, rolling his eye. “I admire humans ability to persevere and hold on to life, but these machines are the only thing keeping her here. And soon they're going to give. But I can fix her.”
There it was. Dipper pursed his lips, watching as Bill floated over to the machinery that tied Mabel to life.
“I'm not making a deal with you,” Dipper said softly, without as much conviction as he meant to put behind it.
“Really? I didn't even tell you what I wanted yet!” Bill laughed, leaning against the currently still heart rate monitor. Dipper narrowed his eyes.
“You're just a- a trickster! You use your words and create loopholes that make people agree, and then you mess up their lives!” Dipper argued, hands balling into fists.
“I'm a demon, kid, it's what I do. You really think anyone would agree if they knew what their deals would cost? But don't worry, I'll be straightforward with you, Pine Tree, for old time sake.” He floated over to Dipper. “All I want... is your soul.” With the last words, his voice grew deep and he flashed red, his white pupil focusing uncomfortably on Dipper. As soon as it came, he was small and yellow again, gauging his reaction.
“What? No!” Dipper yelled, shrugging off the demon with a disgusted expression. He was remembering being 12, pushed out of his body as Bill fell down the stairs and slammed his arm in the cutlery drawer... He remembered getting back to his body and needing to go to the hospital because Bill had broken his left arm and caused so many bruises to form over his torso that the doctors gave Grunkle Stan weird looks.
“Hey, now, it wouldn't be like that!” Bill insisted, reading Dippers mind. “I may be a demon with incomprehensible power, but I hate being stuck in the Mindscape.” He flashed red again, veins forming in his eye. “Give me your soul and I can leave!”
Dipper didn't even want to consider the deal, but he found himself thinking about it. He looked over at Mabel, defeated, battered, and bruised, hooked up to life support. She could pull through this... couldn't she? When he looked back to Bill, the triangular demon had stuck his hand out, blue flames lining his arm. Dipper pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.
“No,” Dipper insisted. He could feel his stomach twisting. Bills eye narrowed as he retracted his arm. “She'll pull through this, and we don't need your help! Go away!”
He swatted at Bill, the demon easily avoiding his half hearted swipe.
“Fine, kid, be that way. Have fun with your dead sibling!” Bill grabbed Dipper and threw him into the chair. A blue orb of light encircled Bill, drawing him out of the Mindscape. “And don't forget to buy gold!”
Dippers eyes opened in reality, jumping out of the chair like it'd been electrified. After patting himself down and being suitably satisfied to find no blood, deer or otherwise, in his clothing, he sat back down shakily. He watched Mabel and found comfort in the beep of the life support machines.