Alternate Ending (BillDip)

- 4 -

     Bill laid in bed that night, his legs pulled up against his torso, wondering what had happened in that short time. He ran his fingers along each area Pine Tree had touched him, some of which were starting to bruise from all the raw energy that ran through them. He wondered if Dipper was feeling just as lonely, and just as scared.

     Bill wasn't afraid of a lot; he was afraid of Dipper when he knew he would be destroyed, he was afraid of Ford, well, he still is, and he was afraid of running out of time. He thought maybe one day he would expire. No one really gave him the run down on immortality, and things became extraordinarily complicated when he was given a body. He knew the body itself, like his soul, would never expire, but could it still be injured? Could he still become ill and die? Could he still be killed? He couldn't know.

     But now, he was afraid of something new: losing this newfound emotion. He was sad, and alone, and scared, but he was warm. Something inside him was burning up. His hands were freezing, but his face was on fire. He pulled his large comforter up on top of himself and let a tear escape his good eye.

     In the room across the hall, Dipper sat on his bed, now in pajamas, with his head in his hands. He wanted to scream and cry, but he couldn't do either. Nothing happened. Nothing could happen. And yet...

     Dipper stood and ran his hands through his wild hair, pushing it back off his face. "Everything is going to be fine. You're just...tired. That's what it was. You were confused. Everything is fine." Dipper looked out his bedroom window and saw the crescent moon, smiling devilishly at him just like his very own roommate. "I really need to stop lying to myself. It's not healthy."

     He threw himself back on his bed, his hands reaching far above his head. Why did I stop? He thought. Why did I start? Dipper rolled on his side, and began feeling his side where Bill had gripped him; the skin there was tender, turning a sickly blue color. A shiver ran up his spine, and he knew he needed to stop or he would be right back in there with the demon again.

      Both of them fell asleep, and dreamed of the other.

~

     The next morning, Dipper woke to a knock on his door. It was nearly noon; he had forgotten to set his alarm (not that Dipper really had anywhere to be that morning). He stretched, feeling all of his bones and ligaments settle back into place, and slowly moved out of his bed, heading toward the old, chestnut door. On the other side was a pale, blond man with a pouting lip.

     "You promised you'd make me breakfast. Now here I am, and it's almost noon, mind you, without any food. I'm positive my organs won't last much longer unless you cook something!" Bill demanded with a childlike flair. Dipper smirked, pushing him gently out of the way, and headed to the kitchen to begin their meal.

     Bill had scarfed down all his food, just as he had the day before, and proceeded to watch Dipper eat his meal. "Bill, I have to head into the town today. I'm expected at the museum of natural history."

     "What am I supposed to do while you're gone?" Bill complained.

      Dipper shrugged, "You could clean the house. All of these papers, unless they are inside of books, can get tossed, the books can get put on shelves or in stacks, and the floor desperately needs to be swept and mopped...if you're up for it."

     Bill felt honored to have a chore. He nodded once, then started promptly on all the work he had to do for the rest of the day. Dipper relaxed; he did not have to worry about the demon starting the house on fire or destroying all his things. Bill, compared to his true form, was quite mellow and cheerful -- something Dipper had not been expecting.

     He walked into the bathroom, where he took his daily shower, brushed his tangled hair into a nice, pristine style, and then walked to his room to dress. He debated showing up in a t-shirt and jeans, like he normally did for most things, but he was going to a ceremony to honor all his research so far, and thought it would be appropriate to dress up, even if it was just a little. He wore a green sweater, black slacks, shiny black dress shoes, and his nicest watch -- a gift from Ford for his eighteenth birthday.

     When he left his bedroom, he found Bill, still shirtless from the night before, gathering papers and tossing them faster than Dipper had ever witnessed. When Bill caught a glance of his roommate, he stopped what he was doing immediately and turned to Pine Tree, his face starting to turn pink. "You look...very nice." He turned around, and started shuffling papers into the trash can nearly ten times faster than before. Dipper's own face was starting to get hot, and he rushed out of the house into the cool, fall air.

~

     Dipper stepped into the cabin, shutting the heavy door behind him. The house was almost unrecognizable; there were no papers on the floor, all the books were back on the shelves, the floor was shiny and new-looking, and the whole house smelled of lemon cleaner. Dipper shut his eyes, leaned back against the door, and inhaled deeply; this was a smell that reminded him of his mother, always cleaning something with a can of spray in one hand, a dirty, worn rag in the other. On the sofa only a few feet away was his roommate, sprawled across the whole piece of furniture, reading a book about Murphy's Law. Bill, upon hearing Dipper's entrance, looked up to meet his gaze. They both smiled.

     "I'm sorry...about what happened last night. I don't know what came over me," Dipper finally said, his voice wavering a little.

     Bill's eyes narrowed, and he returned to his book, "I don't know if I believe that. I'm certainly not sorry."

     Dipper stepped closer, "What do you mean? You wanted that to happen?"

     Bill cracked a smile, keeping his eyes locked on the book. "Maybe I wasn't...expecting it to happen. But I certainly didn't want it to stop. And I know you didn't either. So why did you go?"

      Dipper shoved his hands deep in his pockets, "I...I don't know. I was angry at you...for what you did to me. To my family. I couldn't stand the idea of being with someone...that almost killed my Uncle...and my sister."

     Bill was looking at Dipper again. He stood up, placing the book gently on the shelf it came from,  and approached him. "I can promise you, I am not that person anymore. All those things I did to you, to your family, to this city... that was a different person. I can't do those things anymore, even if I had wanted to." Bill intertwined his fingers with Dippers, pulling him closer. "You're allowed to feel the way you do about me. This doesn't have to feel wrong."

     Dipper's whole face was red. His eyes fluttered from Bill's eye down to his lips... Bill closed the distance between them, small as it was, and kissed Dipper's forehead. "Just think about it?"

     The demon walked to his room, and shut the door.