Different Form, Different Time

Something's Off About You

The next two days Stan busies himself by hacking into the school's system, adding Dipper and Mabel as students, creating their schedules, forging documents, and bribing the superintendent. He sends Bill to the shrink's office with Dipper, saying they could use some bonding time and teaching moments.

Walking in town doesn't usually bother Bill. He's used to people giving him weird looks, trying to stay out of his way, occasionally cussing him out if he gets too close or speaks to them. But with Dipper watching in confusion, he almost feels self-conscious. Not that he'd let anyone see that. They approach the office, and Bill turns to the boy behind him.

"I'll do most the talking, convince them to cooperate. You'll probably have to answer a few questions, though."

Dipper nods, and they enter. Bill smiles at the receptionist, he's never seen her before, so she'll be easy to manipulate. He leans against the counter and looks at her nametag.

"Hey, Lilly. So nice to see another new face in town, how are you?"

He internally cringes when she blushes, "I'm great, thank you so much for asking. How can I help you and your friend?"

"Of course, love. As for us, my friend here and his sister are also new to town. It would help them so much if you could create some documentation saying that they are patients here."

She frowns, "I'd love to help, really. But legally, I can't really do that."

"Shame, are you sure there's nothing you can do? If you're worried about getting caught, I can assure you, I've got that covered. All we need are a couple papers to show someone." He watches her, choosing the perfect moment to pull out a stack of hundreds. "What do you say, doll?"

"I suppose I can make an exception." She takes the money carefully and turns towards Dipper and hands him a clipboard, "If I can have you write down you and your sister's information, I'll have you two in by the end of the day."

Bill smiles, "Perfect! You are an absolute star."

Five minutes later, they're walking out. Bill laughs at how easily he got the receptionist to give in, and Dipper looks at him curiously. He still isn't used to that kind of look. Neither of them has the opportunity to say anything before the child telepath, Gideon Gleeful, decides to show up. The white-haired kid looks at Bill angrily.

"What the hell have you done, Cipher?" He squeaks. "You said that spell would hypnotize my customers into hating the Mystery Shack, you promised! Instead, they're convinced that I'm their father!"

Bill grins, pinching the kid's fat cheek, "Don't go blaming me for your problems. You just did the spell wrong, silly."

Gideon's anger vanishes, "Oh, and I know exactly how to fix it!"

Dipper watches as he runs off, turning to Bill in confusion. "What was that exactly?"

"Simple mind trick. Just step inside, change a few memories and emotions and bam, problem solved."

"Can you do it to anyone?"

Bill hesitates, "Yes, but I only do it when I absolutely have to or in cases like Gideon where I just don't give a shit."

Dipper nods, "Can you do it to me?"

"I, uh, yeah, if you want me to." There it is someone using his abilities for their own selfish interests.

"I don't, so promise you won't."

Bill looks at the brunet in surprise, a small smile forming on his face, "Yeah, I promise."

Dipper nods again and starts walking. Bill stands there for a moment, he's never been good with emotions, but he feels them, very strongly. And right now, an overwhelming joy is filling him. No one has ever gone this long without asking Bill to do something for them. It's even more rare that someone make him promise not to use his powers on them, at that realization his face falls. He catches up to Dipper, trying to see if the boy is upset or afraid. He notices.

"Sorry if I was snappy." He looks at Bill apologetically.

"No, no it's fine. I just didn't know if I... offended you?"

"Nah, sounds like the brat deserved it. And the mind tricks helped get the shrink thing taken care of. Shitty as my life has been so far, I don't want to forget anything that's happened. If it makes you feel better, I trust you. I just want to make sure you know where I stand."

Bill can't help but laugh, "Yeah, of course. If it makes you feel better, I never planned on doing anything to your head."

▲▲▲

"So, Miranda's coming tomorrow." Mabel says during dinner, if Stancakes and expired syrup can count as dinner. She looks at her brother, "Have you remembered anything?"

Dipper looks at Mabel in annoyance, Bill can't tell if there's a problem with him remembering stuff or if he's hangry from not eating at all today. "Mabel, I really don't want to argue right now."

"I'm not trying to argue. You were home when it happened, are you seriously gonna let this guy get away with it?"

"If I remember anything, I'll let the social worker know."

"They were my parents too, Mason!"

Using real names now, this is serious. Bill looks at Stan, but the old man seems to be enjoying their little banter.

"Really? I thought you were adopted. How many times do I have to tell you I didn't see anything?"

"I don't believe you."

"Is that supposed to make me remember something? I honestly don't care if you don't believe me."

Mabel glares at him for a moment before leaving the table and slamming her bedroom door. Dipper groans and puts his head in his hands. He was there when his parents were killed and doesn't remember what happened, no wonder he doesn't want Bill messing with his head. Stan speaks up.

"You wanna tell me what that was about?"

Dipper stands, "Not really. I'll be back in a few hours." He leaves the Shack without another word.

"Well, looks like we're not gonna have any help cleaning this mess." The old man elbows Bill and starts cleaning up the mostly untouched meal, smiling at Mabel's almost clean plate. "At least someone appreciates my cooking."

"Whatever you have to tell yourself." Bill rolls his eyes, still thinking about the twins' argument. Their parents didn't just die, they were killed, and Dipper saw it. Or at least he was in the house. Makes sense that Mabel would want to know, but doesn't severe trauma cause memory loss or something? Besides, what normal person is going to willingly tell anyone something traumatic? He looks at Stan, "What all do you know about their parents' death?"

"Nothing. CPS called, said that I'm next of kin and could choose to let the twins move in or they'd go into foster care. I asked what was going on and the guy said all I needed to know was that their parents died. The whole situation is extremely sketchy if you ask me."

Bill furrows his brows, his confusion only growing. Maybe the social worker will have more insight. Something isn't adding up.