Monster Falls

23: Watched By a Cervitaur

Bill moaned, holding his injured arm, which had been placed into a hastily made tourniquet. Stanford and the others had went into the basement lab to assist Shooting Star with her magic, and that, quite unfortunately, left the former demon with his current worst enemy: a twelve year old cervitaur who could barely walk without falling on his face. Currently the kid had Bill sat in front of the tv on the yellow couch, his eyes never leaving the demon's face. Huffing, the demon adjusted his position, unable to shake the feeling of Dipper staring at him. "So is this how it felt?" The demon mumbled, referencing to when he would always hear the kid talking about being watched. All thanks to him, of course!

Dippers ears perked up, showing that he had heard Bill's statement. "Is how what felt?" The cervitaur asked, turning down the current episode of Ghost Harassers in order to hear what the demon said. A very rare occasion that was.

The former demon shrugged. "Meh. Don't feel like repeating myself." Bill groaned, his stomach making a distressed noise. Stupid fleshbags and their stupid needs. "Can I have food?"

The boy on the floor huffed, turning his program up once again. "You can get it yourself, Bill."

The demon pouted, knowing it wouldn't work on the boy in front of him. "But I'm huuuungryyyy!" Bill whined. "And injured!" Dipper turned the TV up even louder. Bill groaned. "Pine Treeeeeeeeeee!" The demon complained. The cervitaur didn't turn around. "Pine Treeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" He repeated, again to no avail. "Kid!"

Dipper sighed loudly, muting the TV, standing up, and facing Bill. "If I get you food will you shut up?" The cervitaur inquired, sick of the demon's annoying antics.

Bill huffed, considering. "That's a hard choice, kid." He grinned. "Maybe I'll take it if..." he held his good hand out. "Deeeeeaal?"

The cervitaur frowned. "Stop trying." Dipper turned to the kitchen, stepping onto the wooden floor, his hooves clacking.

Bill grinned. Oh, this was simply hilarious.

Agent Trigger groaned as he shut the door to his and Powers' dingey motel room. He had gone out to buy food for the two of them, as the other man was too busy theorizing about what they had seen. "You okay?" The blonde inquired.

Powers grunted. "If we had only captured those mutant police officers. We could've shipped them off to Washington for experimentation and figured out what the hell is going on in this town!"

Trigger set the bag of sandwiches on the wooden TV stand, pulling out a water bottle labeled: Mr. Mystery's Magic Water. He undid the cap and took a swig, sighing when he was done. "True, true." He held the bottle out. "Want some?"

The darker haired man shook his head. "No, I'm fine."

The blonde chuckled nervously. "Don't forget about that lion man, too."

"We need to start looking for that boy," Powers mentioned, biting his lip.

"The one in the woods?" Trigger asked. He looked over at his partner, who rolled his grey eyes. "Hey, it doesn't hurt to ask."

Powers sighed, sitting down on the dusty, vintage floral print bedding. "Why didn't I ask for back up!" The agent grunted, standing up and slamming his fists onto the bedside table. "Now everyone in our department will think I lost my mind if I need to make a call!"

"We need good evidence, I assume?" Trigger asked, biting into his sandwich and wincing when he felt a sharp, quick pain strike his back. He hissed, clenching his fist and biting his cheek.

Powers raised a brow. "Are you okay?" He asked.

Trigger nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine," he answered, the pain fading. But he wasn't exactly sure.

What the hell was that?

"Al--most...got it!" Mabel grunted, currently focusing on merging together Soos' clay arm, which was currently broken into two pieces. The handyman didn't mind, as his body could be easily broken apart and put back together again in a matter of seconds. Mabel yelped as her magic cut out, blasting her, and Soos onto either sides of the room. The half-unicorn groaned, rubbing her forehead. "I'm sorry Soos," she apologized. "I guess I'm just not getting it."

Soos shrugged, reattaching his forearm to his elbow. "No worries, dawg." He chuckled. "I guess being clay does have its perks."

Ford sighed, stretching out his wings and sitting back on his haunches. "Don't worry, Mabel. You'll get it soon. We just need practice and--"

Stan groaned, standing up. "Remind me again why this is so important? So you can fix your worst enemy's broken arm?"

The sphinx folded his wings in. "It's not about the arm anymore, Stan. It's about Mabel's magic, she--"

"Geez, Sixer, look at the kid! You're over working 'er!" The gargoyle accused, walking over to the girl on the ground, helping her stand up. "You okay, sweetie?" Stan asked, a more sincere tone creeping into his voice.

Mabel nodded, standing up. "Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, rubbing an eye. "Just--just tired."

Stan sighed, glaring at Ford. "C'mon, let's get you to the attic," the gargoyle said, escorting the girl.

"But what about Bill?" The half unicorn asked, curious.

The grey haired man shrugged. He didn't know why his brother cared so much about the de-man, especially when a few decades ago the exact same being had driven him into near losing his mind. "Bill can suffer," Stan grumbled, glancing at Ford one last time before the elevator rose up, it's number switching from three to one.