This fic was inspired by my best friend, in our chats and our rp. Recently, we had a falling out, and so I can only hope she's reading this. In a way, this is my goodbye to her.

Chapter Twenty: Goodbye

Nights on a ship were longer than the nights on the pier. Bill learned that the way he leaned everything, with time and patience and nothing better to do. He learned that when he had the long nights to himself, and he learned that when staring at the sleeping form of Dipper on his cot.

Yet for the first time in a long time, Bill fell into sleep with ease. He slept with Dipper still pressed against his chest and finally feeling warm in the longest time. Just because the ocean was cold in some places, it didn't mean that he was used to the feeling of cold water constantly against his skin. He might be more used to the cold, but that certainly didn't mean that he didn't like it. It was nice to have a weight against his chest and to just feel the way that someone breathed against him. There was nothing more than warmth and understanding, and Dipper wasn't the only one who never wanted the cuddles to end.

So maybe that was why he drifted off into sleep so easily, forgetting about troubles and worries and just relaxing, and maybe that's why he didn't wake up when Dipper finally rose out of the tank and cleaned himself up from the water. It was colder without Dipper there, but Dipper was unwilling to sit in the water for longer when he knew what he should be doing.

Quickly changing out of his clothes, Dipper stood there for a long moment, with water still pooling around his feet and sadness in his heart. Bill didn't look very different from the way he had when he was on the pier, curled up on the bottom of a tank and so used to a routine that he didn't even look up when he was forced to show off his tail and scar on his throat.

"I should have done this a long time ago." Dipper whispered, kneeling beside the tank and brushing his fingers over the slim contours of Bill's face. "You deserves so much better than this, I'm sorry I was so selfish to you."

That's all he was, selfish. He was stupid enough to get trapped on a pirate ship, he was stupid enough to keep someone captive when they didn't need to be held captive. He had no doubt that there were reasons why Bill had stayed, but really it had all become too much. Dipper could be selfish until the cows came home, but now he wasn't able to do it anymore. It wasn't healthy.

Brushing his thumbs over Bill's cheeks, Dipper just couldn't help but stare at the siren. It wasn't fair, and it wasn't easy, but he could make believe that it was all okay until the truth was staring him blank in the face. This wasn't healthy, this wasn't okay.

Dipper finally felt he understood why caged birds still sing.

He could waste away the hours, sitting there, staring at the siren and know what it was going to hurt, trying to pull away but unable to. Once he pulled away, he wouldn't have an excuse to keep Bill there. Once he moved, there wouldn't be one thing keeping him there and keeping them both locked in a bad situation.

There was no choice anymore, at least Dipper told himself that. There wasn't a choice in this matter. Doing what was right wasn't always easy, but it was what needed to be done, and Dipper was just sorry that it had taken him so long to realize it.

In some time of being so selfish and not wanting to let go of the one person who cared about him, in the time of realizing what support looked like and what it was like to love, Dipper had started to ignore the way that Bill had bruises, the way he longingly looked out the window, the way that whatever light had been in his eyes slowly started to disappear.

Yet all he could do was lean forward gently, pressing a small kiss against Bill's forehead. He hadn't even fully moved away, but it was absolutely terrible. It was a break he knew would have to happen, but no one ever told him how much it would hurt. Dipper always thought he had been through the worst, that he had been through everything he could throw at people, but apparently life still had surprises.

Bill was heavy. He was heavy in a way that Dipper couldn't describe, but probably a lot lighter than if he had been healthy. While laying down with the siren he hadn't been able to feel the bones and muscles through his clothes, but now he could feel the bones easily jutting out.

It was a small grunt Dipper managed to lift Bill out of the water, even though a part of his tail dragged on the ground and followed behind them. Dipper was thankful for every single activity on the ship that allowed him to build up muscles for this moment.

Bill stirred sleepily, wrapping his arms around Dipper's shoulders. It wasn't the first time that they had done something like this at night, since Gideon didn't really like them changing the water for the tank when he was around. Dipper just liked avoiding a fight that might result in Bill getting hurt.

"Shh, go back to sleep," Dipper reassured gently, grunting a little as he struggled to open the door. Eventually Bill had to move and open the door, slowly waking up more and wondering just what was going on. He didn't do anything other than wrap his arms back around Dipper.

Dipper had to duck inside of a closet with Bill once to avoid being seen, he almost fell getting them up the stairs of the ship, but somehow he managed it. Bill's free hand was moving at a mile a minute, trying to figure out the reason why they were on deck, why no one else was out, why Dipper was doing this.

"I'm just doing what I should have done a while ago," Dipper panted as he finally managed to carry Bill over to the edge of the ship, setting Bill on the railing. "I'm sorry."

For wh-

Bill didn't get to finish what he was signing, Dipper shoved hard on the siren's chest and sent him falling back into the water. Bill landed with a hard splash, and Dipper leaned over the edge of the railing to stare down at the dark water that almost looked black. For a moment, it was absolute darkness and silence, until Bill finally surfaced again with a look of confusion on his face.

What's going on?

Dipper sighed, leaning his head in his hands and shaking his head. It hurt. It was like looking at a puppy and telling it to get lost. Bill looked completely at ease in the water, just reminding Dipper that some birds can be okay when caged, but others wouldn't be.

"I thought...that everything was going to be okay, that everything was fine, but it's not," Dipper tightened his grip on the railing until his knuckles turned white, "I can't do this anymore, I can't lie to you about this. You need to go."

Bill sank a bit more into the water, low enough that only his shoulders were showing. He looked so hurt, and Dipper didn't even know what he could do to make this better.

It's all for the best, Dipper kept telling himself. It needed to be done.

When they wake up, they will hurt you.

Dipper shrugged helplessly. He had never even gotten a kiss from the siren. Everything hurt, and he could feel himself slowly starting to detach to get through this. He had to get through this.

"Get out of here, Bill. You should have never come back in the first place."

Even Bill flinched back from the words that left Dipper's mouth, even if salted tears poured from the brunet's eyes to slowly land on the railing where his hands were starting to cramp they were clutching so tightly.

There was a second where there was nothing more than the shuddering breaths of Dipper and the waves lapping at the side of the boat as sounds. Bill stared, Dipper looked down at the water and waited to see the flicker of a tail that signaled a goodbye that he would never be able to hear.

"D….Dipper."

The voice was a harsh croak that sounded painful, making Dipper's gaze snap up as he looked over at the siren. Bill had one had pressed against his throat and a look of pain, but he also looked as stubborn as all hell and refusing to move.

"Get out of here, Bill, I don't want to see you again." Dipper whispered, almost sobbing now and hunched over the railing.

"Pl-please."

Dipper couldn't resist that, a voice that sounded like so much pain and so much heartbreak, and this wasn't how it was meant to happen, dammit, but Dipper's gaze finally stayed on the siren for longer than a second, with Bill looking just as close to crying as Dipper already was.

Come with me.

It was signed, and Dipper suspected that whatever power he had used to talk was gone, because the words signed meant more to Dipper than anything else in the world. It wasn't meant to happen like this, Bill was meant to get into the water and just swim away, to leave and forget about the years of abuse and torture, but as Dipper stood there staring down at the siren who was asking one of the main reasons why he was abused to go with him.

Yet recovery wasn't so easy. So maybe Bill wanted to enjoy time with the one person who was kind to him, maybe Dipper was reading too much into the situation. Maybe there were other people that could have been better than this, who wouldn't make the same decisions and have the same regrets as Bill did. So Dipper did the only sensible thing in the world.

He jumped.