Dark Days (BillxDipper)

LI

~Bill's POV~

     Those boys had told me what happened. The reason My Pine Tree was in such a horrendous state was because he refused to scream... All but one time... I feel my breathing get heavier as I realize the meaning behind their words. They didn't say it out right, but I know exactly what they meant. Pine Tree had been raped by the demon, and he used someone else's screams to do it because he was too strong to give the demon what he wanted. 

     That filthy pig touched My Pine Tree. I wish I had known before hand. I'd have made his death last longer and be a thousand times more gruesome. Hell would bow before me at the rage I feel, I could tame the flames of purgatory with a single glare and obliterate hell-spawn with a roar. I should cleanse this world of any and all demons just to let off some steam and for no other reason. I have never felt so powerless before, it took almost three weeks to find him. Three weeks! But to Pine Tree it was probably over a month. I feel the anger boil again when I wonder if he ever called for me... and I wasn't there. The thought sending a sharp stab through my gut and rings in my head.

     I set the weak boy down on a table in my home; a home I created inside the mindscape. It's the only thing that feels even a little real in this awful dimension. I molded this place to be a safe haven where no weirdness, as much as I used to adore weirdness, could enter. It looks like a regular home that you would find in the fucking suburbs, but it is what kept the last of my mind 'sane'. Well, as sane as I could possibly ever be anyway... sane isn't really something I've ever been described as, but hopefully you know what I mean. I am at peace here, safe, in control.

     It's the only place I've ever known or needed and I would share it with him a million times. I know Shooting Star will be pissed when I don't come back. I suppose I'll visit her in a few days and tell her what's going on, but for now, Pine Tree will hold all of my attention until I feel I can leave him for a few hours without anything happening. 

     What might happen? I haven't a clue, I'm confident he'll make it now so I don't know what I'm so afraid of. Maybe it's more accurate to say, when I feel ready to leave him for a little while and not go crazy... er... about not being near him. I'm starting to realize what these feelings I have are, but I'm not yet ready to delve into that or accept it, but one thing I'm starting to realize as true is.... I am glad for what he did those 700 years ago. And as soon as he's well enough I want to tell him exactly that. 

     Pine Tree groans from where he lay on the table, wrenching me from my thoughts. I grab a bowl and fill it with warm water. I wash the poor boy as best I can and the amount of blood that I wipe away is astounding. I am sudden hit with a feeling of awe towards him. He should have died a long time ago. I wonder what kept him alive, what kept him going. How did he survive? It's so painfully obvious how bad a condition he's in. If I didn't have magic, he wouldn't survive at all. There's no way that a mortal hospital could save him in this state. He was second away from death by the time i pulled him down from those chains.

     I infuse small amounts of magic into the water I wash him with and I can practically feel it working inside him. The magic works to slowly stitch his muscles, skin and bones back together. The process will be very slow but hopefully he should be back in one piece after a month or so. The water turns red and I end up replacing it at least four times before I'm satisfied that he's as clean as he's going to be for now. I hope the warm water warmed him up a little bit, but I'm sure he is still cold. Before I can clothe him I need to dress and disinfect his wounds, to which there is a significant amount.

     I clean his wounds and he twitches at every touch, sucking in sharp breaths and letting out painful moans, even unconscious. I have never stitched someone up before, but it can't possibly be that hard, I have the proper supplies, it just won't look very pretty. I sew up the biggest gashes on him and I feel terrible for causing him more pain as I watch tears slide down his cheeks. He still hasn't woken up, yet his pain is so blatantly obvious. 

     I can't wait till he's healed and no longer suffering, it's going to be an awful recovery for him, but I know he's strong enough to withstand. If he can survive that bastard demon in such a state, then I know he won't give up, especially now that it's over. Even staring at him now, I still can't seem to wrap my head around the state he's in, everything he's endured... and even more unfathomable... none of it made him scream. I've never known a mortal, or even a demon honestly, to have such a resolve like what he has. It's truly incredible... He is incredible.

     Finally I finish sewing up the biggest wounds and have them all cleaned and wrapped in gauze. I had set some of his broken bones and sent a little more magic into him to keep his bones in place. Working on the bones was the hardest as it caused him the most pain out of everything else I did. It was necessary however. 

     I slip an oversized orange shirt over his head and carry him to my bed. He sucks in air through his teeth when I set him down and panic for a moment, before I watch the pain ease from his face and I can practically see his mind settling peacefully. 

     "...B...Bill..." He whispers so quietly I almost miss it, but at the sound of my name my breath catches in my throat and I stare at him. My stomach flutters at his broken voice. I reach over and brush his hair away from his swollen face before pulling my blankets up to his chin. Even with his face so mutilated with swelling, he truly is beautiful, I wish he would open his eyes. I long to see the beautiful colors. 

     It bothers me how broken and weak his voice is. I want to hear his voice, I want to hear him sing again. I watched him that night at the party, it was amusing to say the least, but he truly had a wonderful voice, and I yearn to hear it again. I remember listening to him hum while he was cooking, unaware that I was even there, swimming in the back of his mind. I miss his voice, I miss his smile, I miss his eyes... I miss him...

    Oh! I almost forgot! Reaching into my pocket I grab the necklace. When he wakes I'll have to ask him why it was in the wall... Whatever the reason is I lift his head as gently as I can and slip it back around his neck. The charm is practically a piece of me, as long as he wears it I can share my heat with him and transfer magic when needed. It wasn't made for this purpose, but I can do really whatever I want with it. Everything will be all right eventually. I know it will.