Come Wayward Souls

Begin

Dipper blanched.

"Wirt, I'm so sorry, I don't know what happened-"

"No," Wirt shook his head, and then gasped in pain and clutched at it again. "No, Dipper, it's okay. I'm sorry. I should have explained."

"Explained what?" Asked Dipper, confused.

"I know why you acted like that... Just," Wirt groaned. "Help me, help me up and I'll tell you everything."

"Yes, yes, of course," Dipper said quickly. "I really am sorry," he added.

"I know," Wirt said, wiping away his tears with the back of his clean hand. "I know."

He knew because of how sorry he was to Greg.

They stumbled back to the fallen tree they had slept against. Dipper helped Wirt sit down and then he examined the wound on the back of his head. It was a large cut, but it didn't look deep.
Dipper took of his jacket and used it to stem the flow of blood, which slowed quickly. Wirt was trying to hide the pain on his face. When they were finished they just stayed there, with Wirt kind of sat in Dipper's lap, and Dipper resting his arms on Wirt's shoulders.
Dipper felt awful. He had no idea what had possessed him to be so horrible to Wirt... as soon as that thought sprang into his mind, a horrible idea blossomed.

"Wirt," he said suddenly, beginning to feel incredibley sick. "I've got a horrible feeling that I know how I ended up here."

"Really?" Wirt asked, surprised and, quite honestly, a little relieved: although he felt guilty about it he really didn't want to have to be the one who told Dipper that the only way he could have ended up in The Unknown was if he was...

"Have you ever heard of Bill Cipher?" Dipper asked.

"No," Wirt said, confused. "What's that?"

"He's a dream demon... He can travel between dimensions and possess people if you make a deal with him."

"Hmm," Wirt said thoughtfully. "Reminds he of someone." He turned around and looked at Dipper. His eyes shined in the early morning sunlight. He was so close to this boy already; yesterday he had been a stranger, and today Wirt could sit in his lap as he tended to an injury. He felt so safe with him. Staring at him full in the face, Wirt could see the flecks of gold in his deep chestnut irises, count the freckles across his nose. There were four.

"I need to explain everything to you before you tell me more," he said, making up his mind. "It's only fair."

"Alright," Dipper replied a little anxiously.

Wirt took a deep breath, and begun.