(Y/N)'s POV
Dipper shot a stare across at me, struggling to find the right response. I noticed that he became incredibly uncomfortable; he had shifted around, his eyes darting to several different places in the room and avoiding my own eyes. His fingers twiddled together and he bit the inside of his cheek quite often.
Finally, he was able to muster something in response to my question. "Well, uh, I mean-" he stuttered, his face showing he was definitely conflicted about what he should say and what he shouldn't. "There's a lot to Bill, it would take quite a while to explain everything."
"I've got a while," I quickly added, trying to encourage him to spill everything. I was beyond ready to know what he knew, and it made me feel ten times better that he wasn't a figment of my imagination, but at the same time, I didn't know if Bill's existence was a good or bad thing.
"Actually, there's something else." he sighed, looking down at his lap and then slowly looking back up at me. "There's sorta this law that prevents us from talking about it."
I would've believed he was joking if it wasn't for his serious look towards me. I felt my heart sink; I had gotten so close to the answers, and then they just slipped out of my hands. "Oh," I choked slowly, frowning and looking at my own lap.
"But, maybe-" Dipper began, trying to lift the mood, "Maybe, if I can find the time and place, we can talk about it." he said, giving me a half smile hopefully.
I glanced back up at him, not being able to hold back my own smile. I had completely forgotten we were at a party, the music downstairs still as loud as it had been, but I could barely hear it. I felt like I had escaped to a different world, I had blocked out reality and just let the words fall out of my mouth. I felt like I had never done that before.
"Hey, the party isn't really over yet. Wanna, go down and relax for a little bit? I think after everything that's happened, you deserve it." Dipper suggested, still giving me a smile.
"That sounds like a great idea." I said slowly, giving in and standing up. I was still partially dizzy from the drink, but it was finally starting to wear off.
***
We had danced for about an hour, or at least I thought it had been an hour, I had lost track of time. Time really does fly when you're having fun, doesn't it?
Mabel, Dipper, and I were eventually the last ones there—everyone else had left at around eleven—and we were having a great time, cracking jokes and dancing to the top songs that Soos played on the speakers. I could've swore I had seen Stan dancing from a small balcony near the top of the room, but I didn't pay much attention.
At one point, I excused myself to use the restroom, and while in there, I touched up my makeup slightly, although it was hardly noticeable under the vibrant flashing lights emitting from stage lights in the rafters.
As I looked at my complexion in the mirror, I had noticed that my eye's swelling had decreased significantly, but I quickly pushed the thought out of my mind.
I stood in front of the mirror longer than I had intended to, and I let my mind wonder about the simplest of things. Thoughts of the night's events swam through my head along with memories of how beautiful the sunsets were in Kentucky. Unfortunately, I hadn't been able to see a sunset here yet, but I planned to eventually.
Subconsciously, I began thinking about what Bill meant by his little farewell rhyme.
Into Sixer's office you must peek.
That sounded so familiar, but yet so unknown and I couldn't seem to decode what he meant. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in, repeating the words carefully in my head in an attempt to understand them.
Into Sixer's office you must peek...who is Sixer?
Finally, the horrifying truth hit me like a gust of wind, chilling my very bones and sending a shiver down my spine.
"Sixer is Ford?!" I squeaked breathlessly, gripping the sink for support until my knuckles turned white. All of a sudden, my palms felt sticky and I knew what had to be done.
I had to rummage through Ford's office to find what I needed. I didn't know what I would find, or how long I would be there, but surely if Bill had foreseen it, I would finally get the answers I needed. I was going to sneak into his office tonight while everyone was distracted.
***
After successfully sneaking towards the vending machine, I realized that there was one issue. The last time I had been able to sneak into Ford's lab because the door to the vending machine was already open.
However, this time, the door was tightly shut and simply looked like any old vending machine. I stood in front of it, unsure of whether to try typing in a code or to ask for help.
No, of course you can't ask for help, stupid. Especially not-
And of course, the very last man I wanted showing up slowly opened the vending machine door from the other side. A faint blue light emitted from the machine as a tall figure appeared, adjusting his slightly cracked glasses and looking surprised at my presence.
"Oh, greetings, (Y/N). Why aren't you down at the party?" asked Ford warmly, looking down and relaxing a bit. His mood was mostly inviting and encouraged me to keep talking to him, but at the same time, I could detect a strange look in his eyes. It almost looked like, suspicion?
Quickly, I came up with a response. Well, not quite a response, but a question. "Why aren't you?"
He simply chuckled. "I'm much too old for those sorts of affairs."
"But, I saw Stan down there just a moment ago," I mentioned, "Maybe you could afford to let loose for a little while." I suggested truthfully, but I was also trying to distract Ford so I could sneak into his office.
He gave me a look that I couldn't quite figure out. It was almost like he wanted to go downstairs, but he hesitated and shook his head. "I mustn't. I have quite a few things I need to research in my lab." Ford stated vaguely, refusing to let too much information out of his mouth.
I frowned slightly, knowing that I couldn't sneak into his lab. Then, I asked the only question I could; "Could I use that small space in your office I used a little while ago? I need time to think about something if it's alright with you." I asked nervously, fiddling with the hem of my low crop top.
He continued to fixate his steel grey eyes upon me, trying to find an answer that would satisfy him. It was almost as if he had lost trust in me suddenly, and knowing that he was looking at me like I was a stranger was a gut-wrenching feeling. Finally, he settled on a response. "I suppose it wouldn't be a distraction to my studies." he told me, forcing a small smile that tugged the corner of his lips.
I sighed gratefully and followed him back down the eerie wooden staircase, crawling into the small room that had been designated for my "elaborate thinking time", as I liked to call it.
As soon as Ford had shut the door, I quickly grabbed a few pieces of paper and came up with a plan to distract Ford from his office. Time flew by too quickly, and I knew I had to go home soon, meaning that I would have to wait even longer for answers.
No, I have to do this tonight. I reminded myself, crumpling up a piece of graph paper with several plans scribbled messily on it. I ran both my hands through my hair in frustration, feeling lost on how to get inside.
Luckily, I happened to glance over at the pile of paper—or, well, the nonexistent pile of papers, as I realized that I had already used all of my sheets and needed more.
"Perfect!" I whispered out loud in pure excitement. The simplest of glances had earned me a ticket into Ford's main office to get paper, and possibly a peek at what answers might be lurking there. I quickly crawled towards the small door, cracking it silently and just enough for me to hear Ford.
I waited patiently until he left to use the restroom and when the time came, I squirmed out of the small bunker-like room and swiftly tiptoed into the main room, locking the door behind me.
I turned my body away from the door, my mouth dropping at the sight of his office. It had changed drastically from the last time I had seen it—this time, there were papers scattered everywhere, pages torn from books and plastered in an unorganized fashion upon an old cork board above the right side of his desk. I glanced around the room, trying to find any sort of connection between his piles upon piles of paper and machinery, and I discovered a familiar face.
Bill.
I moved from one side of the room to the other, being able to spot him in almost every corner of each page, on the walls, and it looked as if he was in the process of being carved into the dark mahogany desk. It felt incredibly cold in the room even though it was summer, and I couldn't explain why. Finally, my eyes settled on a book that had a black swan feather quill sticking out of one of the pages.
Looking back at the door cautiously, I began to open the leather bound journal to the page that held the quill. I took the quill out to observe the codes written all over the pages, along with phrases that were scribbled out in black ink and...spots of blood? I felt dizzy just reading some of the inscriptions on the pages in front of me.
"I think I'm losing my mind."
"Is he back? It can't be..."
"P ohcl h zbzwpjpvu aoha zol ohz thkl h alyypisl klhs dpao Ipss."
The last one stumped me, so I wrote it down quickly on a sticky note. I felt a rush of determination wash over me, and so I sat down in the large desk chair and began to search for more clues, more answers, anything.
A couple of minutes passed and I became absorbed into the contents in front of me, trying to connect the pieces together without actually touching them. I knew Ford was most likely an observant person, so I didn't want to rearrange anything in case he would notice.
As I searched through the pages curiously and swiftly, I noticed a pattern. It almost seemed like Ford, at one point in his life, had experienced an encounter with the same being I had made a deal with. And from his warnings scattered throughout the pages, it looked like I had made a grave mistake.
I stood up from the chair, starting to feel dizzy as I absorbed all the information. My vision became spotty—I could barely see what was in front of me—and I subconsciously backed up, my heart thumping loudly and my breaths becoming heavier and more rapid.
I bumped right into something, and, fearing the worst, I screamed and whipped around, covering my head and chest with my arms and clenching my teeth in fear. My fists were clamped tightly, and in my right hand was the sticky note with the strange code on it.
I heard a familiar voice and felt my stomach lurch and churn. "(Y/N)? What are you doing in my office?"
I looked up at a disappointed and slightly angered Ford, whose glare made me feel overwhelmingly nauseous. I opened my mouth to speak, but silence fell upon the room. Tears were collecting in my eyes; what was I going to tell him? Would he even believe me if I said I was getting paper?
Finally, I took a shuddering breath and spoke. "I needed paper. I'm s-sorry-" I quickly began to apologize and ramble. "I really should've asked y-you before going in, but I didn't know how long you were going to t-take." I quickly shoved the sticky note into my pocket, hoping that Ford hadn't seen.
Ford's expression only increased in intensity, causing me to fall silent with fear. I felt like I was going to be sick, but the suspense was preventing me from doing so. He quickly swept past me and stood at his desk, looking down at his desk as he clasped his hands together behind his back.
I almost immediately knew what he wanted me to do. Slowly, I backed out of the room and went back upstairs.
What will he think of me now? Surely he wouldn't hurt me, would he? And what kind of answers did I even get?
Thoughts swam through my head faster than I could process them, but luckily it was time for me to leave. Mom hadn't been sitting outside for long, so she was glad that I was somewhat on time. I didn't speak at all on the way back to the motel, but Mom seemed to take the hint and didn't speak either.
***
Dipper's POV
Just as I was finishing cleaning up the ballroom with Mabel and Stan, Ford appeared in a corner of the room and motioned me over. It was unlike him to just stand around, he was almost always observing something, even the simplest of objects.
I walked over to him, double checking over my shoulder that Mabel or Stan hadn't followed me. "Hey, what's up?" I asked, worry hinting at my voice.
"Come with me. I need to tell you something, it may be a bit of a shock." Ford told me in a mysterious, low voice to be sure no one else heard.
My stomach jumped slightly, but I nodded and we set off down to his office. I couldn't help but become increasingly nervous as we went further and further down in the rickety elevator.
When we arrived, he pulled me into his office and locked the door behind him, sighing and turning to face me. "Dipper, I need you to tell me the whole truth with any question I ask of you." he told me in a dark, serious tone.
I felt the hairs on the back of my neck raise up; I had rarely ever heard him speak this way. I nodded and stared at him in confusion and slight fear.
"Have you been experiencing the eye pains too?"
I felt like my heart had skipped a beat. Without even realizing it, my hand had moved up to cover my right eye. "Y-Yes, I have. Ever since Bill possessed me at Mabel's play, my right eye has ached every now and then." I spoke as clearly as I could, but my voice was beginning to waver. "Of course, after Weirdmageddon when Bill was defeated, they went away."
"They've returned, haven't they? The aches?" Ford asked, stepping closer to me and watching over my right eye, which I had uncovered.
Shivers surged throughout my body as I nodded, beginning to feel dizzy. It can't be, surely he wouldn't have returned... I thought, not being able to make eye contact with Ford anymore. Surely this didn't have anything to do with (Y/N)...
"Dipper!" he barked in a hush, but strict, voice. "Look me in the eyes!"
"No-" I replied as the dots began to connect in my head. "It can't, you're wrong-"
"Mason! The tests came back positive!" Ford finally yelled, using my real name in order to snap me out of my near breakdown. I felt ten times smaller than Ford almost immediately, looking up at him with concern.
"What tests?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows and becoming almost betrayed. What had he done to her?
Without another word, he reached behind him and pulled out the same metal, cylindrical device that he had used on (Y/N) when her eye had bled profusely during a tour. He showed me the screen behind the lens, which read "POSITIVE".
"It-It can't be." I stuttered, still unable to believe what he was telling me.
"Don't you see? (Y/N) has made a deal with Bill. She has opened up a space in our dimension for him to enter." he paused, watching my every reaction. "In other words, she has allowed him to possess her at his will without even knowing it."