« S I C K » [BILLDIP]

Chapter 5- Old Habits Die Hard

"You make a compelling argument, Pine Tree. But if I wanted you dead, I would've done it by now."
Bill's voice bounces in my head, as I lay with my back to the couch, clutching Journal 3 to my chest.
I argued with myself for hours over whether or not I wanted to speak with him again. I was convinced that I shouldn't...
...but with Mabel out shopping, and the apartment dead silent, I figured it wouldn't kill me to have a chat with him.
"Can you hurt me, though? From inside the Mindscape?" I challenge.
I hear the sound of snapping fingers, and that all too familiar twinge in my head reappears out of nowhere.
"So, wait... that migraine was yours? You caused that nightmare?"
Bill almost audibly shrugs. "I needed to get your attention somehow."
"How the hell was I supposed to relate a common headache to dragging you out of the Mindscape?"
"That wasn't your everyday headache, Dipstick." I can practically hear him smirking sarcastically at me.
"You get what I'm trying to say!"
"Fair enough. Maybe I just thought it was funny seeing you in pain."
"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the exact reason why you're staying in the Mindscape for the rest of eternity."
Bill chuckles a bit. "Ahaaaahhh... you'll fall in love with me eventually."
"How do you except me to fall for a fucking Dorito-"
"Love at first sight!"
"I can't even remember what your human form looks like."
"Love at first see... with your ears."
"Good one, Bill."
"Thanks, Pine Tree."
"And, just so we're clear, I'm straight."
"If it helps you sleep at night, Pine Tree."
The awkward silence that follows after is deafening. I'm starting to realise getting casual with a chaos god isn't the brightest idea ever.
"Aw, seriously, kid? You don't think I'm chill now?"
"No, I don't," I snap in reply, suddenly on edge. Who the hell does he think he is? "Not gonna lie, the fact that you think you can try and end reality as we know it, hide in the Mindscape for eight years, then just come strolling back without consequence sort of pisses me off."
Bill's silent for a moment.
And that's when I realise pissing off the chaos god isn't the brightest idea ever, either.
"Remember Sixer?" Bill finally chimes after a few tense moments.
"Great Uncle Ford? What about him?" I reply.
"Nothing. I just wanted to know if you remembered him."
I scoff. "He's my uncle, Bill."
"We used to be pretty close, too."
I feel my shoulders stiffen with aggravation, and I hug the journal tighter.
"He was close to you. You just wanted to use him as a pawn in your intergalactic game of chess," I snarl. "Don't go whining because you fucked up his trust."
"Hey, Dipstick."
"What?!"
"You're gay."
And that's when I slam the journal on the floor and stomp away.
I storm into my bedroom, and flop on to my bed, exasperated. I don't want to do this right now.
I should call Ford, but there's a slight complication.
Ford is out in the middle of nowhere with Stanley. Sailing on the infamous "Stan O' War."
And he refuses to carry around something as simple as a flip-phone.
I curl up on my side, hugging the blanket to my chest, and whimper.
I don't want to do deal with this myself. And Mabel's probably just as helpless as I am in this situation...
...and I can't seem to bring myself to weigh her down with a catastrophe this massive.
I blink, shuddering, and I begin to think back to Gravity Falls.
Specifically the last day we were there.
Mabel and I's thirteenth birthday.
The whole town showed up to celebrate something so irritatingly pointless. I remember the excitement and sickening anxiety like it was just yesterday.
Right after, we hosted the last official bonfire of the summer in the woods. Just us, including some close family and friends, where we burned whatever reminded us of the horrors of Bill. (Frankly, it was the simple result of the "Never Mind All That!" act that the mayor placed after Weirdmaggedon.)
Then came the most exciting part of all, when we...
We took the journals and we...
...
Hold that thought.
Holy shit.
Holy shit.
I leap from my bed and, in a desperate sprint, dart back to the couch, scooping up the journal along the way.
I flop on to the seat, rapidly flipping through the pages.
"Back already, Pine Tree?" Bill sneers the moment my fingertips touch the hard cover of the book.
"Not now." I reply, tone firm.
"Woah, someone's feeling fei-"
"Shut the fuck up, Bill."
He does.
After a few minutes that seem like full hours, I finally find the page I'm looking for.
My eyes rest on the final page of the book, written by Ford himself.
I read it aloud.
"And so here we are at the Bottomless Pit, a mystery of Gravity Falls that I still have never fully solved. Based on my investigations, tossing these journals inside could land them just about anywhere."
I shouldn't be holding this journal.
It shouldn't be here, in Oakland, in my shitty apartment, with some twenty year old child who never officially recovered from his acne problems.
"Go figure," Bill jokes.
But I don't have it in me to tease with him at the moment.
Because something fishy is going on...
...and I'm nearly positive that Bill, the Master of Illusion, is behind it.

**The text written in Journal 3 is canon from the official journal. I don't own it.**