Based on the comic written by modmad on tumblr that pretty much ruined my life ( post/98161859400/well-what-did-ya-expect-in-an-opera-a-happy). Posted on ao3. Also kind of a gift fic for an author friend of mine. Here's to you, awesomenesshasar.

May or may not write a continuation to this. I really like the idea. This was written rly early this morning, so forgive me if there are any grammatical errors lol

.*~*.

Time seemed to slow down. Whether it was to grant him the chance to attempt to save one of them, or just to mock him and show it all to him one frame of life at a time, he didn't know.

"Cipher!" Stan bellowed. A bright blue flame appeared in his hand. The world became gray and warped as time slowed down even further as he entered the Dreamscape. He sensed a presence behind him and spun around, full of fury. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Hey, not my fault the kid made a deal with me!" A snarky voice called. A dark cloud appeared in front of Stan and a tall, dark-skinned man with bleached hair appeared in front of him. This was the form Bill took when Stan had last seen him. Perhaps he chose this form to specifically unhinge him, the old man thought. None of that mattered now, though. The past was in the past. What mattered now was the future.

What mattered was Dipper and Mabel.

The man cackled. "You know how it is," he said, suddenly pulling out a scroll from his yellow suitcoat. His eyes skimmed it impatiently, one of them glowing a dull red. "All new contracts made that violate previous ones nullify them, as well."

"How was I supposed to know with you... you... trying to bewitch him?" The man growled, his fist clenching. Another large burst of blue flames appeared. "We had a deal. You leave me alone. You leave them alone. That was the plan."

"Hey, moot point, now. Besides, Pine Tree was the one who made a deal with me," Bill scowled, his red eye glaring harshly in the theatre lights. The scroll disappeared with a puff of smoke. "But, wow, how could I pass it up?" He snapped his fingers and Dipper's lifeless body appeared between the two of them. Stan resisted the urge to reach for him, because this was Bill in front of him and who knows what he would do.

The demon collected Dipper's body with a surprising amount of care. "I mean, look at this!" The demon let his hand glow bright blue with fire and set it on Dipper's forehead. Stan didn't stop him. He already knew what it would do. The flames wouldn't burn him.

They instead spread across the boy's body, encompassing it as a whole. Bill giggled in a way that made almost reminded Stan of his last nuisance, Gideon. "You made a deal with me way back when for those powers. Who knew they would skip a generation, and become a part of this little guy? Wonder if it's the same with Shooting Star..."

Bill laughed again, rocking on the balls of his his feet, cradling Stan's unconscious great nephew. The blue flames were harmless to Dipper, but Stan couldn't help clenching his fists in anger when they didn't recede. "When he was able to enter your memory, that's when I figured it out. No ordinary person could have done that. And his little scheme to throw me out of your mind? It didn't work, but it certainly surprised me! This kid is more genius than you give him credit for!"

"I don't give him credit for running off and doing stupid things that put himself and others in danger," Stan snapped, becoming impatient with the other's taunting. He wanted to wrap this up. It had nothing to do with the fact that he was afraid Dipper could actually hear him, that he was barely conscious and could hear every word of this conversation. It would be just like Bill to pull that kind of trick.

"He's a demon, Stan, thanks to you. A demon made to fight Dreamers like me." The demon pinched Dipper's cheek, let go of him, and the body disappeared with a poof. "He'll be fine, though. He's springy! All little boys are. And little girls. Tell you what, as a little gift from me to you, I'll minimize their damage. Even pay the hospital bill! In fact, I could give you almost anything..."

The Dreamer extended his hand, flashing a toothy grin. "Tick-tock, time's tickin' away!" A large grandfather clock appeared behind Stan and boomed loudly. In it, he could see the image of Dipper and Mabel's still forms and the rest of the audience, staring on in horror. The gray of the world began to fade.

"I'll never make a deal with you, ever again," Stan declared more boldly than he thought himself to be capable of.

"Oh, right! Cause you don't have anything else to bargain with! After your brother-"

Stan gave him such a vicious glare that Bill became silent. Only for a second, however. "Y'know, I am still bound by his contract. I promised to give him the password... And I will! Maybe to the laptop, maybe to someplace else. Point is, Stan, your contract was old news. I can't leave, not until I enlighten Dipper with that password. So, I'm sure I'll see you sometime soon! Which means, of course, your little buddies will be up and running around again in no time! And until then..."

A large wheel appeared behind the man and his human form flashed and fused with his true form. He no longer had a mouth, but his cackle rang through the air like the final toll of the grandfather clock. "I'll be watching!"

Stan rushed down from the catwalk as the gray of the world began to disappear. He took his place on stage, ready to play the caring, clueless great uncle he had become accustomed to over the summer. But he didn't have to fake concern when he ran over to Mabel's limp body.

Mabel's arm was bent in an odd direction, but she seemed to be only unconscious. Her chest rose and fell a little unsteadily, her eyes shut tight in pain. The old man held in tears and brushed back the hair from her face. She had landed in a convienently placed pile of sock puppets.

As color returned to the world, alarmed cries rose. Mabel's friends, Candy and Grenda, rushed over to her with surprised shouts. The theatre would get whipped up into a fury of confusion and concern, so Stan had to act fast before he was bombarded with questions from everyone.

"Call an ambulance," he said to the two of him, his voice leaving no room for debate. He ignored the questions thrown at him from the children, from Soos and Wendy who were climbing up the stage and trying to figure out what happened. He had to find Dipper, now.

He walked across the short stage to a shadow he saw in the curtains. Dipper was tangled in ropes with the rest of the sandbags near midstage traveller. The rope wrapped around his ankle, which appeared bent as Mabel's arm, must have saved him from falling to his death. Stan was sure that it was broken, just one of the many injuries his great nephew seemed to have endured. His breathing was more slight than Mabel's. Yes, he was breathing. Stan knew that for sure that. After what Bill said, he knew the demon wouldn't let those two die so easily.

What bothered him was how intricate the ropes were draped around him. Dipper looked like a fly caught in a spider's web. He was a puppet being controlled by unseen forces. This was Bill's subtle message of saying, This boy is mine. He's my puppet. He is mine to control, and he will obey me. Or else...

The not so subtle message in it all was the rope loosely coiled around Dipper's neck.