Chapter Fourteen

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(A/N: be warned this chapter is pretty dark, sad, and heavy like no joke i don't know how it got this bad

tw: mentions of self-harm (not described in full detail, but definitely a big part of this chapter), self-harm scars, and underage drinking

before i start, i'd like to request that you guys PLEASE don't comment on the self-harm mentions in here. please, just leave it be and not talk about it. i have my reasons for wanting this and i'd like to keep those reasons to myself. please respect this one thing i ask for please and thank you in advance. i trust you guys to not do this.

i will delete comments and possibly block users who do not listen to this)

Everyone had left Dipper and Bill to their own thing after a couple of minutes of waiting. They were obviously bored and tired... Dipper wasn't sure where they had gone, though. He didn't see where they went because he was too busy focusing on Bill.

He had pulled up a chair in front of the one Bill sat in. Every couple of minutes, Dipper would ask Bill to explain himself. Bill would give some stupid, drunken, reply. Dipper would then tell him to shut up again. After the first fifteen minutes or so, Bill stopped replying all together.

Dipper wasn't sure how much time had passed when Bill finally spoke again.

"Nightmares... Alright, kid?"

The brunette stared at him, confused.

"What?"

Bill frowned and replied, "That's why I've been gone the past few nights. I've been having nightmares every time I try to sleep, so I haven't been sleeping. I get up and go do something, anything, to keep myself awake... Tonight, it was drinking."

"Why would you have nightmares?" Dipper asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "Don't you... Like, have control over your dreams or something?"

"Pft, I wish," Bill snickered. "My dreams are pretty much just memories. I relive them, but normally they're slightly exaggerated. They're similar to normal human dreams, but mine are much, much, more realistic and I remember my dreams every night... My nightmares are just really bad memories that play over and over again in my head... It's not fun."

Now you know how I feel, Dipper grumbled in his head. Having nightmares every night isn't fun, now is it?

Bill was staring off now. His gaze seemed kind of... sad.

Dipper didn't really think about it, but Bill didn't specify which memories... And he knew that Bill had lots of memories from before and after he turned into a hybrid. Still, Dipper knew so little about what has happened to him that he didn't know how traumatic those memories could be and especially as nightmares.

"...Do you want to talk about your nightmares?" Dipper hesitantly asked.

Bill looked at him, confused and questioned, "Why do you want to hear about it?"

"Because it might help you feel better if you tell someone about it instead of just carrying the weight of it," Dipper explained with a shrug. "Mabel taught me that and it helps me."

The blonde just continued to stare at him for a moment, making Dipper uncomfortable. He suddenly snorted and looked away from him.

"I thought you said you didn't want to hear a sob story," he snapped.

"You can't seriously be bringing that up again!" Dipper shouted, absolutely pissed.

Bill frowned at him. Dipper let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed his forehead.

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