We'll Meet Again...

Hello, and Welcome To Staying Awake

Warnings: self harm, blood

Word count: 1283

~~~~~~~~~~

Lying awake in bed, I sigh. I do not want to go to sleep. Sitting up, I grab a pencil and start digging it into my skin, hoping the pain will be enough to keep me awake. I break the skin and a small drop of blood lands on my sheet, staining it red.

I can feel sleep pulling me, calling me, but I focus on the stinging of my fresh wound. I get up and pace around my room, avoiding any creaky floorboards. This isn't working... I'm still tired. And... looking at the clock, I still have six hours until I have to be awake.

Frustrated, I open my window quietly and leave my room, which happens to be on the first floor, but I underestimated how high up the window was and landed in a bush. Mumbling a few profanities my grandpa would be proud of, I brush the leaves out of my hair.

I see a light turn on in the room next to mine and I silently, tiptoe away from the Shack. I find myself yawning every few seconds as I make my way into town. I wish I didn't need to sleep.

Gravity Falls is always quiet at night. No one is out and about and the cops usually do nothing. It's the perfect time to be out.

I hear some laughter in the distance and I roll my eyes. Other teenagers are out as well, probably trying their hardest to make their parents mad, not to keep themselves awake. I find myself near the edge of town, close to the woods.

This isn't working either. I might just have to give in and fall asleep. I hear honking and see my grandpa's car, him at the wheel. Shit...

He opens the window and sticks his head out, "Yeah... I figured you would sneak out. You seemed... a bit suspicious." I hang my head and get in the passenger's seat. "Anything wrong, sweetie?" he asks, driving us home.

I hate lying to him, but he wouldn't understand. "It's nothing. I promise," I tell him and the rest of the car ride is in silence. Once we get back to the Mystery Shack, he stops me, grabbing my arm before I can head inside.

"You do know I care about you, right?" he asks and I nod, "Whatever it is that's bothering you, I want to help." His face expresses concern as he purses his lips. I'm at an impasse, a fork in the road. I could tell him and he might be able to help, but Bill would kill me. Or I don't and suffer in silence with a happy Dorito on my side.

When I don't say anything, he sighs and lets me go.

Once I've lied down, the lull of sleep pulls me under immediately. I underestimated how tired I was. I dream of a field of flowers, like in the Wizard of Oz, the Mystery Shack off in the distance.

I race through the flowers, sneezing because of the excess pollen. Just before I made it across, a ring of fire surrounds me. "Bill! I know you're there!" I yell.

"Good! Because I want you to know how angry I am!!" he says, appearing next to me, all red and pissed off. 

"All I did was not take the journal!" I yell at him.

"Shuddup! You disobeyed direct orders!" he yelled back, "We had a deal! Now you won't get that family!"

I don't think I want to be a part of this deal anymore. Grandpa Stan is my family. But I don't say anything, a bit curious about where this is going. Bill rants about how incompetent I am as I glare at him, afraid of what he can do in the dreamscape.

I know for a fact that he can torture you physically from inside your dreams and it shows up on your awake self. I have the scars to prove it.

"Bill!" I suddenly interrupt him, which seems to anger him further.

"What do you want, fleshie?!" he demands, getting close to my face. He's about this close to snapping my neck in half, but I know he needs me.

"How about we make a new deal? My interest in having a family has... expired," I offer, leaving out the reason why.

"Hmm, you've got my attention," he says, turning yellow again.

I take a deep breath and respond, "I will get the information in the journal and in return, you tell me who my father was. You seem adamant that the author isn't him. So."

Bill cackles, "I like this deal." He holds out his hand and blue flames surround it. I shake it. "I think you'll like who it is," Bill grinned. 

I bolt up in my bed, panting, and sweaty. The birds sing in the trees outside my window, the sun shining through my curtains. I take my pillow and toss it at the glass, birds scattering away, startled.

I probably have huge bags under my eyes.

I leave my room in my pajamas, hardly caring less about my appearance since I'd rather not look at myself. Walking into the kitchen where the twins were bugging grandpa, I open the fridge, trying to avoid any eye contact with anyone.

"Morning!" Mabel greets me and I lean back to see her. She smiles and I wave, still tired. I glance at Dipper, who was clutching onto the journal really tight. I don't know how I'm going to get it or even what information Bill is looking for.

Grandpa glances at me for a second before looking back at his newspaper. Looking back in the fridge, I find nothing that interests me. The milk looks curdled over and most of the stuff is for older people.

Sighing I head into the living room where Soos was just... standing? "Wassup, Vickie!" he high-fives me.

"I dunno," I shrug, yawning.

"Still tired, huh, little dude?" he asked and I nodded. "Well, you're always welcome to sleep in my breakroom," Soos offers. I politely decline, knowing his 'breakroom' isn't even a room.

I glance at my arm, where tiny scars of where I poked myself with a pencil until I bleed are. There are at least ten now, my most recent one still red and irritated.

It's probably not healthy to let lead get into your bloodstream but it's better than letting Bill Cipher into your dreams.

A tap on my shoulder startles me, so I turn around and see a nervous Mabel rocking on the balls of her feet. "Can you help me with something?" she asks. 

"Uh of course," I respond with a smile.

"So, this kid, Gideon Gleeful keeps pulling me into the romance zone even though I keep trying to friendzone him. How do I tell him I don't like him that way?" she asks, glancing up at me. This kid must be really annoying if the lovesick Mabel doesn't even like him.

"Tell him straightforwardly. Say, 'Gideon! I just want to be friends!' and he'll respect you because you said it confidently," I tell her. I've had my fair share of experience with that.

"Are you sure that will work?" she asks.

Nodding, I respond, "Yes. This will one hundred percent work." 

She hugs me and leaves. I turn on the tv and change the channel. Just some reruns of Ducktective but I don't mind because it's keeping my mind busy. Suddenly, my arm starts stinging and I look down, several drops of blood rolling off.

I didn't even realize my fingernails were digging into my skin. Leaving the tv on, I go to the bathroom and wash my arm so it doesn't get infected. Glancing up at the mirror, I notice my Bill Cipher-like eyes, only ever visible through a mirror. I know what I must do.

I need to get that journal.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: So uh. Hi, I'm dark as fuck sometimes.