Never Trust Your Demons

44

I look around in shock at the trees around us.
"How did-?! What the-?! Huh?!" I reach up to wipe my eyes, and find my sweater back to normal.
"Oh..." Bill groans. "Thank the nightmares!!" He sits up, crossing his legs,. He glows brightly for a second, then in his place, laying on the ground, in his triangle form, an "x" across his eyes. "We're.... we're back!" He cheers. He sounds exhausted.
I smile. He's alright. We're home. "I can finally relax... and regenerate... and not have to use that tiring human form..." He looks over at me. "I mean... okay, Police Box, I gotta go now. Later, bye!"
For the third time in the past five minutes, Bill glows brightly, then disappears.
I sit there on the ground, exhausted, aching, and confused.
I'm not sure what just happened to get us home, and I may never know.
Then I remember. I was gone for nearly a week. I have to get home... let them know I'm okay.
I stand up, shouldering my bag and wincing as I put weight on my hurt leg.
As I make my way back through the woods to the shack, I wonder how I'm going to explain being gone. People don't just disappear for days at a time for no reason! Well they might, you never know with this town.
I come out of the woods, finding Stan in the front yard, eyebrows furrowed with worry.
"Hey!" I call to him. He turns to me in shock as I lean against a tree. "Isn't Mr. Mystery supposed to be a happy scammer?"
"Connie?!" He runs over to me. "Where have you been, it's been days!"
"I-"
"CONNIE!" I hear a girl's shriek, and find Mabel hugging me tightly. I inhale sharply as she hits the bullet wound, then laugh.
"Hey, Mabel," I force a smile.
"Where'd you go?!" Dipper follows close behind her.
"I... I don't..." I trail off. What do I say? I don't know? I don't want to talk about it? Definitely not, "Oh, just on this weird interdimensional trip with the demon who possessed Dipper and that Ford told me not to deal with anymore. Oh, and I killed someone because Dipper died."
"...what?" I end up saying.

"You... Were gone," Dipper looks at me, confused. "You were gone for nearly a week. You ran off one morning and didn't come back."
"Didn't you know you were gone?!" Mabel asks.
"And when'd you get shot at?" Stan asks, pointing to my cheek. "Trust me, I know what bullet wounds look like."
I reach up to touch where the bullet grazed it, instantly regretting it when I do.
"I'm... Not sure..." I lie. "I thought I was only gone for a couple hours, at the most, and I'm pretty sure I didn't get shot at ever!"
"The time pocket." The four of us look up and see Ford standing in the doorway of the shack.
"The... what?"
"The time pocket. It's in the forest, always moving. It's very rare to actually experience it. I was lucky enough to stumble upon it through my research. They pause you in place for an inconsistent amount of time. In most of the cases I've studied, it's been one day at the most... but none of that explains the injuries you've sustained."
I shrug. "Must've... run into a tree or something." I answer. I notice something in his pocket blinking and beeping.
He must have seen me glancing at it, because he shifts his coat, covering it up.
Still keeping secrets from me, I see.
Then again, I'm one to talk.
"Listen, right now I'm exhausted," I sigh. "Can I just, I dunno, go and take a nap?" My stomach growls loudly. Well, I haven't exactly eaten for a few days. "Maybe a snack...?"

We head inside, where I do get something to eat, then I go into my room. I lay down on my bed exhausted and aching. I tried to hide my limp, and I think I did pretty well, but how long until they notice?
How long till they notice any of this? Scars on my hands and arm, a scar on my forehead... should I even hide them anymore?
No. One clearly reveals I trust Bill, and I don't think anyone would like that.
I close my eyes, deciding not to think about that now.

I sleep soundly that night. Thank goodness  for that, because I don't think I could take any nightmares anytime soon. I stand up. My leg feels better. It still hurts like crazy, but not enough to force me to limp. I walk over to the door, and something catches my eye in the mirror. A dark red liquid writes out a dripping message on it. "Oh, yay, more blood," I grumble. "Just what I needed in the morning," I glance over it. "'Think of it as a parting gift..'? What does that..." Something else catches my eye, on my arm. Or rather, something doesn't catch my eye. "Hey!" The scars are gone. Same with on my hands. The one on my forehead is still there, though, as well as a bruising cheek and the bullet graze. Must be Pyronica's "gift."

"Hey, Police Box!" I smile as Bill enters my mind.
How many times do I have to tell you to call me Connie, Conifer at the least?
"Well... none lately."
I laugh. Well, I'm telling you now. How are you doing? I close my eyes, noting he's in his triangle form and the x-shaped gash across his eye is gone.
"Fully regenerated!" He replies cheerfully. "What about you, Conifer?"
I run a hand across the tender bullet graze, flinching as soon as I touch it. ...Healing.

"Alright," Dipper opens the closet as the rest of us look on. "Grunkle Stan's gotta have some decent board games,"
"Let's see..." Mabel rifles through the pile. "Battlechutes & Ladderships, Necronomiconopoly-"
"How do you know how to pronounce that?" I squint at the side of the box.
"Don't Wake Stalin..."
I sigh. "Stan, do you have anything normal in your house?"
"Hey, what's this?" Dipper picks up a different box. "What Could Go Wrong?: The Board Game. The last players who opened this box never made it out alive."
There's a long pause. Before we all talk at once.
"Well, I know what we're doing today."
"This should take up the next 21 minutes."
"Sounds decent."
"Family meeting!" We look up from the game as Ford calls from the TV room. "Family meeting!"
Dipper and Mabel run down the hall towards him. I follow, a bit slower. We walk in on Ford, who has several scrolls tucked under his arm and is reading a book. Ford turns around and notices us.
"Ah, children. Come in, come in!" He puts the scrolls on the table.
I sit down on the other side of the table, folding my arms. I may have mentioned I don't like being called a child.
Mabel jumps up next to me. "Ooh, mysterious scrolls and potions! Are you going to tell us we're finally of age to go to wizard school?" She starts rummaging through the bag. "Is there an owl in this bag?!"
Ford snatches the bag away. "No, I can assure you if there's an owl in this bag, he's long dead."
I blink in surprise. "...Well then..."