Nobody Forgets Bill Cipher

Only Just Beginning

It's been about a week since Yule appeared back to us as a ghost, and it's early July at this point. I still cannot believe that it was only about a month and a week ago that Sil Houette called me for the first time.
Yet, that moment seems like forever ago. My entire life was turned upside down this month, and things are only just beginning to die down.
When I visited the site where the portal was just the other day, the place still faintly smells like burnt trees. Though, I suppose it can't be helped. The occurrence only happened about a week and a half ago.
I find myself crying from time to time, for apparently no reason. I suppose I haven't fully gotten over Yule's death, even though he's still here with us now. I don't think I'll ever get the images of that day out of my head. But, for now, he's here with us, and that's all I could ask for.
Mabel spent the entirety of yesterday making me a new eyepatch. My last one had grown kind of shabby, so she was all too happy suggesting making a new one. It took her such a long time because she put so much care into embroidering all of our initials onto the patch.
The letters are hardly noticeable from far away, but up close, there are five small letters embroidered in the top left corner, each delicately sewed.
Y for Yule.
B for Bill.
M for Mabel.
D for Dipper.
P for Pacifica.
It is now my most prized possession. When Mabel first gave it to me, I thanked her, but laughed because the initials were in a place where I never would be able to see them, given the eyepatch's purpose. She frowned and replied that she and those other people who were represented on my new accessory were always there to guide me, even when I didn't understand, or couldn't see it clearly. I'm sixty percent sure she came up with that on the spot, but it was touching nonetheless.
Could it really all be over? Ever since I've come here, I've suffered trial after trial. In the end, everything has turned out alright. Perhaps not always the way I've wanted things to, but life is manageable. Maybe now, we can live normal human lives. A few months ago, I wouldn't have thought that to be asking much, but now I know I can never take that wish for granted. Everyone took risks, others made sacrifices for me. I should be always grateful for that, and do my own best to live my life to the fullest because of it.
I've lost my Yumberjacks job from skipping shifts too much over the last few weeks. I say good riddance, though I should find a new job in the near future to continue to pay the Ramirezes what I can. I may to call Nessie from time to time, though. She at least deserves a little encouragement in that wasteland of a job. Thomas, on the other hand, I have no trouble saying that I will enjoy never having to deal with him again.
Mabel, Yule, and Dipper are now wrapped up in an intense game of Jeopardy, if intense is even the right word. Dipper keeps shouting all the correct answers, Mabel fills in wherever she can with ridiculous ones, and Yule's trying his best, but Dipper's totally creaming them both, and even the television contestants. However, if I were playing with them, I think Dipper would get a run for his money.
Life is good for now. Things could be better, but who am I to complain? I do still worry that life won't stay like this for long. It's similar to that feeling I had right before Sil called me. I'm forgetting something. Something terribly important. Or is it just all in my head? Does it just seem too good to be true? Is that all this is?
     The four of us are startled out of our states of relaxation by intense knocking on the back door. I hear Dipper turn off the tv.
     "Who's that?" Mabel asks, shocked by the sudden rapping.
     "Mailman?" Yule guesses with a shrug, though he hovers nervously.
     "Not with a knock like that," Dipper remarks, throwing the remote control onto the couch.
     I unlock and open the back door to greet our mysterious visitor, but as soon as I see who it is, it's no longer mysterious, but extremely confusing.
     In front of me stands Dan Gerous, his eyebrows furrowed in worry. How does he even remember us? Weren't his memories including me erased?
     A boy looking very much like him, perhaps my age or a bit younger, stands next to him. His clothes almost look too big for him. They can't be more than five years apart, though they have extremely similar features. Is he Dan's brother? I can almost swear I've never met this boy before, though I can't help but believe that I've seen him before.
     "Bill, do quaflies have weirdness aftereffects?" Dan asks with urgency in his voice.
     "Bill...? You remember who I am?"
     "We can discuss that later!" Dan exclaims, catching a look at the teen next to him. "Could you please just answer my question?"
     Aftereffects... it sounds all too familiar. My mind clears as I realize that Dan is correct. "Yes... it's like aftershocks after an earthquake. People with direct exposure to a quafly can experience unrhythmic, unpredictable weirdness pulses. These frequent, temporary pulses can last anywhere from hours to a century, then they stop." I spit out the facts as they pop into my head. "Why?"
     He sighs, calming himself down. "Allow me to properly introduce myself." He looks at me with his now icy blue eyes and sticks out his hand. "My name is Donavan Redd. You can still call me Dan if you like, it doesn't matter to me."
     He gestures to the boy next to him. For the first time, the baby blue-haired boy speaks up. "I'm Sebastian Redd, but everyone calls me Seb, or Snap, whichever works."
     Snap. That sounds oddly familiar. I blink as they pause, not fully understanding what they're trying to tell me.
     "You've met him under the alias Snapdragon," Dan/Donavan clarifies.
     Snapdragon. I suddenly can match the name with a face. That little quadruplet toddler I met at Dan's house. But... if that's true... this could only mean-
     "Yes. You heard right. We have a problem. I'm afraid these weirdness pulses are only just beginning. My family lingered after the evacuation notice. As well as the Society and you all, my family was directly exposed to the portal for a time, too," Dan explains to me with worry in his voice.
     "So you're saying that..." I can't finish. I won't finish. If this is really true, it means our troubles are far from over once more.
     "That this sixteen-year-old boy is Sebastian "Snapdragon" Redd." He looks at me, intense seriousness lining every inch of his face.
     "My son."