The Things We Leave Behind (Gravity Falls Fic)

Chapter 17: Head Games

 Saige's POV:

        I opened my eyes, slowly, breathing in the crisp, fresh air of the field surrounding me. A great big blue sky stretched above me.

        My admiration of the scenery was interrupted by the sound of two pairs of running feet coming towards me. I sat up and turned around to see who it was, but before I could find out, everything went black. I stood up and stumbled around in the dark, calling for help.

        "Hello! Anybody there? What happened? Where am I?"

        Then, there was a scream, a loud crash, the sound of glass breaking, and finally, there was nothing but a quiet sobbing in the distance.

        I bolt up out of bed, panting, my eyes wide.

        "Woah, are you okay?" A voice says beside me. I snap my head to the side to see Dipper, who was holding a tray with a bowl of soup on it.

        I sigh, leaning back into the cushions, "Yeah, I'm fine, sorry... just a ... nightmare..."

        He blinks at me, and then offers me the tray, "I brought you dinner."

        "Thanks, buddy, but I'm not really hungry. Maybe later, okay?" I smile at him, gratefully.

        He looks a bit disappointed, but nods, understandingly.

        "I'll call if I want it," I say, and he nods again before carrying the tray out of the room. I let out a breath and turn to my bedside table to click off the light. But then, I notice something odd. Next to the lamp was my X2Alt. Didn't Bill take that from me a couple weeks ago?
        I push the thought aside and set the gun in the drawer before flicking the switch on the lamp and closing my eyes.

---

        I hear a rustling beside me. Without looking, I mumble, "Dipper, I said I'd call you if I was hungry..."

        "It's not Dipper."

        Instantly, I'm awake. I slowly turn in the direction of the voice, and then I sigh, slightly exasperated.
        
        I collapse backward on the pillows, "Bill, what do you want? And how long have you been watching me sleep?"

        Bill pauses to think, "Thirteen minutes, I believe... and I don't want anything. Can't I stop by to check on you? I mean, you almost died. I have a right to be worried."

        "Oh really? You have a right to be worried about me?" I say, incredulously, "Since when?"

        His tone is sarcastic, "Oh, I don't know, maybe since I realized that I was in love with you. Or maybe it was when I kissed you. Or maybe it was when I kissed you the second time. Take your pick."

        I bite my lip. I guess he's right.

        My right arm, still wrapped up in bandages, catches the blonde's eye.

        "What did you do to your arm?" He asks, pointedly.

        I pull my arm closer, instinctively. 

        He cocks an eyebrow, "Hm."         

        He kneels down next to me, starting for the bandage, but stopping, "May I?"

        Several minutes pass before I sigh and relinquish my arm to him. He finds the end of the bandage and unwraps it, revealing a a silver metallic cylinder that stretched from my wrist to my elbow. There are a few buttons and a bluish screen with my vitals on it. 

        Bill stares at it, and then slowly raises his gaze to meet mine.

        He whispers, "Are you a cyborg?"

        I peer at him, curiously, and then let out a loud snort of laughter, "Nice try, but I'm not a cyborg. It's a prosthetic."

        He looks back at the fake arm, "Oh. Well, if it's just a high-tech prosthetic, why hide it all the time?"

        My smile fades, "Oh, um, you know, I don't like people asking questions about my past..."

        He is obviously doubting my answer, "I'm getting the feeling that it's more than that."

        I look away, avoiding his eyes.

        His hand slips into mine.

        I take a deep breath and turn my arm to let Bill see the fine engraving in the metal.

        Property of Higher Flight.

        "What's so bad about that?" He says, carelessly.

        "Well, you see, this arm, being an attachment to my real one, is removable," I demonstrate by pressing a button and twisting the arm. It pops off cleanly. However, it does leave behind a metal band on the stub.

        "Of course, it still needs the socket that connects the wires to my real nerves, and the clever little geniuses that hooked this up just happened to write Property of Higher Flight on the one part that cannot be taken off."

        Bill looks at the strip of metal wrapped around the stub, and then he gradually understands.

        I reattach the arm, "They branded me."

        Then I laugh, grimly, "Although, I guess I should be used to people claiming ownership of me by now."

        Bill obviously has no response to that. He's watching me, and for a moment, I think he is going to kiss me again. 

        I clear my throat, pulling my hand away from his, "You know, this won't work."

        He blinks, "I don't follow. What, exactly, won't work?"

        "You and me," I say, matter-of-factly, "It won't happen."

        "What makes you think that?"

        "Because I'm one of the good guys and you're... you're one of the bad guys."

        He seems surprised to hear me say that. But then, a few seconds later, his expression of hurt melts away. He narrows his eyes, a smirk spreading across his face.

        "You know, Operator, you're correct. I am, after all, a villain. And you know that thing about villains?"

        I'm actually a little scared to speak.

        So I don't.

        Instead, Bill stands up, continuing, "They're greedy. They always want something. And I want you. I'm going to fight for you. I will even kill for you, if that's what it takes."

        He leans down next me, his lips brushing my ear as he whispers, softly but firmly, "After all, I am one of the bad guys."

        I turn to face him, but he is already gone.