Stan looked around, to his left first and then his right. He shut off all the lights and walked out the door. He reached into the bushes where his golden suit was hiding. "Last trip and the tank will be full," he muttered to himself and left. Stan sure hoped the twins were in bed like when he checked on them not too long ago.
Dipper and Mabel were in bed, in fact, though the latter was the only one asleep. It had been nearly a week and a half since the boy played chess with Bill for the first time. Since then he'd been earning cash, buying ingredients, practicing his mastery of the supernatural and attempting to keep a healthy relationship with his family and friends. And spending time with Bill Cipher.
Waddles snored loudly, reminding Dipper of his wakefulness. The sun had just started to set, casting the room in a darkening orange haze. He wasn't close to tired. Maybe . . . I could do something important. For . . . Bill, he suggested to himself, cheeks turning a vibrant rosy red at the mention of the dream demon. A spark of flaming electricity shot through him, a fierce adoration that only built up after each encounter. Whenever the two met at night or during a doze, they would always play games and explore together. Every moment was a cause for enjoyment, making him savor the presence of the triangle. Dipper had become quite fond of Bill, consequently sleeping in later and later as the days went by. Mabel had worried for him, as did everyone else, but he managed to hide the truth. Instead of feeling guilty, he found that he was wondering of how proud Bill might be. How happy he was that Dipper was staying near. How wonderful their time was together. The boy bit his lower lip, those familiar and strong feelings igniting once more. His hand reached for his shorts and slipped into his pocket, an action that became habitual for him in the past week. He let his fingers graze the smooth surface of the deer tooth that Bill gave him. It was a gift. Of friendship. Of partnership . . . The revelation somehow had a pleasurable ring to it.
Partners . . . huh. I like the sound of that. Two beings, working together for a single cause. A cause . . . Oh yeah. Dipper's eyes widened suddenly and he stopped playing with the tooth. I have enough money to finish gathering ingredients for Bill. The alchemy spell only required a few more things. We could — I could have his body done by the end of tomorrow! They'd finally be together. Physically. And he could have so much fun showing Bill around, helping him learn about human life . . . He would help Dipper, too. Except this time it would be different. Better.
His heart pounded in his chest as he scooted off of his squeaky mattress, slowly, slowly. I'll go into town real quick and grab the last few things. It won't be long. I can sneak back and be in bed before anyone notices. His foot hit the wooden floor and he stood, watching his sister intently. When she didn't stir, he put on his vest with the money in it. If I'm lucky then there'll be time to start the transmutation. Bill and I . . . Bill and I . . . Blushing profoundly, he quickly tiptoed out of the bedroom, shutting the door halfway behind him. Careful to check to see if the stairs and path was clear, he made his way out. Dipper, beaming from excitement, practically dashed to the chemical shop when he made it safely outside. His spirits were soaring, crying out Bill's name. We've almost made it.
Bill watched Pine Tree, chuckling to himself in the mindscape. "Well it looks like I'll have my vessel sooner than I thought!" he cheered and then carefully went into Dipper's mind. Hey kid! Decided to finish up my body, eh?
Yeah! It's going to be so great, the tween replied happily, panting from the run. He paused at the store's vacant doorway, closing his eyes as a recap.
I can't wait! Bill cheered. Only a few more ingredients and you're done! I will help you out with the alchemy spell, so don't worry.
Thank you, Bill! Dipper grinned, opening the door and walking into the shop. It was the same as the last few times he'd been there, empty of people and full of supplies. "I need one more gram of fluorine, three of iron and one of silicon," he announced to the air, slipping down an aisle. He found the bottle of tiny metal flecks with ease. One gram of iron. Done. Now we just need fluorine and silicon . . . He clutched the container he held with eagerness. I can't believe how close we are!
Welcome. I can't believe it either! Bill replied.
The boy smiled, proceeding with the search. "Indica mihi quid hoc dicit!" The damaged labels on an entire row of chemicals revealed themselves with the spell. He'd gotten a lot better at magic. After a small while of seeking through the shelf, he managed to get ahold of what was needed. It's all here. Excitement bubbled up inside Dipper and he hurried to the counter, dropping his money on top of it. He didn't even check to see how much he left before he started off towards the shack.
I'll let you choose if you want to do the spell tonight or tomorrow morning, Bill told him. I'm fine with whatever you choose. The demon noticed something out of one of his "eyes". It was Stan; he was starting to unload all the waste he stole.
Dipper noticed as well, and the surprise almost made him drop his things. He was standing just outside the Mystery Shack doorway, watching confusedly as a suited man with a covered face smuggled in a large barrel of something suspicious. The boy considered running in to stop the guy before his logic and fear kicked in. I-is that Stan? It . . . It can't be. What is he doing with that stuff?
Stan rolled in a barrel and accidentally dropped it on his foot. "AH! Hot Belgian Waffles! Wait I'm alone. I can swear for real! Son of a—" He cut off, noticing a figure in the dark behind him that looked strangely like . . . "Dipper?"
"Grunkle Stan?" The brunet slowly walked the rest of the way into the Mystery Shack, eyes both confused and betrayed. He was fighting not to lash out with conclusions, but the all the evidence was right in front of him. "What is all this? What are you doing?"
Stan was not expecting this to happen. His plans were ruined and he did not want to tell Dipper the truth. "Well I . . . " He took off the golden helmet, deciding not to answer. "What about you? What are you doing out of bed and what is that?" He gestured toward the items Dipper was carrying. "How about this: you answer me first then I'll answer you."
The tween blanched suddenly, that angry shade of red draining away immediately. That didn't mean he wasn't feeling hostile, though. "I couldn't sleep so I decided to go to the store and pick up some things. They're for an experiment I'm . . . doing to help with Mabel's and my mystery hunts," he lied somewhat easily, turning the bottles over in his hand. He was suddenly glad that the labels weren't legible.
Stan nodded, though he wasn't really paying attention. Instead he was thinking of a cover story he could use to explain the barrels of waste. "Well, you see I thought I could use these barrels as a new attraction. Come one and all to see the radioactive barrels, they are the cause of all weirdness! You can even stick your hand in them if you dare for fifteen dollars." Stan cheered, making sure his little saying was believable for the teen. No, he would never reveal his true plans for the barrels. This was the only way to keep the twins safe.
Bill watched and scoffed in Dipper's mind. Liar, he muttered.
The boy found that he believed Bill more than Stan at the moment. He scowled. "Do you expect me to buy that excuse? Where did you even get that stuff? Don't lie to me, Grunkle Stan. I'm smarter than you think."
The old man was taken aback by the boy's tone and words. Stan stared at him, eyes hardening. He really didn't want to tell Dipper. It would ruin everything. So he would try something else. "I just found it. Now go to your room! You are in trouble for sneaking out and not telling me. We will have a huge talk about this in the morning!" he yelled, hoping he didn't wake up Mabel in the process.
Dipper cringed with a grimace. Not wanting to try and argue for fear of extra punishment, the twelve year-old started back up the stairs. He cast a last unsure glance at the waste. Whatever Grunkle Stan really wants that stuff for can't be good.
I tried to tell you, kid. Stan is not what he seems, Bill repeated the code he gave to Dipper last week. Anyway, you can go to sleep if you want. I can meet you there.
Dipper tensed uncomfortably, rather apprehensive of the truth. It's probably best if I waited . . . I don't want to, though. Now farther into the living spaces, the boy hurried up the steps and turned up another flight of stairs. He stashed away the last of Bill's ingredients in the box, looking at it proudly. There it is. You've got everything you need. Smiling lightly, he closed the lid and retreated to his and Mabel's room. She was thankfully asleep, turned away from him. His mind wandered back to Stan, whose actions begun to make him afraid for what was to come. If Grunkle Stan somehow hurts Mabel . . . or me . . . He couldn't, could he? Dipper felt that he wasn't so sure anymore. I feel like I need to warn her. Mabel needs to know what happened.
Hmm . . . you can if you want. But whatever you do, be prepared. Things are changing. And fast, Bill replied to Dipper's thoughts.
He nodded, taking off his vest and shoes. He would be sure Mabel found out in the morning, before she got any ideas to throw some crazy party. If Stan was really dangerous then it wouldn't be smart to continue with the plan for celebration. The brunet got into bed. I guess I'll have to meet you later, then. In the dream, Bill. Dipper hesitated before adding, Oh, surprise me tonight. If all goes as planned then we won't need to meet in dreams anymore. Let's have fun.
Yeah, Okay. Bill told him, already thinking of a few different fun ideas. I'll see you there. Goodnight, Pine Tree.
Goodnight, Bill.