Dipper laid on his back with his hands crossed over his stomach, staring up at the knotted wooden beams over his head. He watched as flies buzzed around and listened to the rustling of the trees in the warm summer winds through the open window. Mabel left it open for him to 'get some fresh air' while she hung out with Candy and Grenda.

It had been days.

He'd waited and waited, the seconds seemed to take eternity to tick by. There was no sign of Bill. Dipper had hardly moved from the spot he was in except to use the bathroom and occasionally to get yet another can of pitt soda or another mini-tub of ice cream. Mabel used every trick in the book to get him out of bed - encouragement, threats, bribery - but nothing worked. He would just roll over and put a pillow over his head, and if she tried to remove it, he would just turn back and stare at her with a chillingly empty gaze until she gave it back or left. His eyes burned with exhaustion but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't sleep longer than five minutes at a time. Part of him hoped this was Bill's doing, but he knew that if that were true, he would instead be having an endless stream of nightmares instead of insomnia.

He turned his head to the side and reviewed his desperate attempts to get Bill's attention; the walls were scratched and lined with drawings and carvings of Bill, papers scattered across the floor with his image drawn in pencil, pen, marker, highlighter - he tried anything he could get his hands on. The flurry of emotions he felt were enough to make him wish a zombie would drop by and rip his brains out.

At first he was scared - he knew he'd royally messed up and there was a looming terror that Bill would exact his revenge on him eventually, or even worse that he would never come back and it would ruin all of Dipper's hard work along with breaking his heart.

Then he was overcome with sadness - it didn't take a professional to know that Dipper was in a rut of depression. He couldn't eat and anything he tried to hold down would just come back up five minutes later. He hadn't slept more than a wink since that night and he feared he was going to die of exhaustion any moment.

But the worst of it was anger - Bill was so selfish for refusing to help him get protection for Mabel and then refusing to do it himself! Something had changed in that demon recently and whatever it was was downright infuriating. Some of the drawings Dipper had done to try calling him back were shredded up or scribbled out and, on occasion, burned. Wherever Bill had left to, he took a piece of Dipper's sanity with him. And without his guidance, the world around him seemed foggy and humid. There was nothing Dipper hated more than the unknown and Bill left him without a clue. Secrets, secrets, and more secrets.

The house shook as Dipper pounded a fist against the wall. His arm was shaking - no, his whole body was shaking. His teeth were grit and his breath cut short and stifled. Sweat beaded at his forehead and under his arms. This had gone on long enough, it was time to have a word with that hateful triangle one way or another.

He assembled every ounce of fight he had left in him and pulled himself out of bed. Still a bit wobbly on his feet, he shook off the dizziness and hunger pangs to go search for the materials needed to make a summoning alter. This time, he was going to use Bill's alter, if he had to slay Gideon to find out what it was.

Luckily, all he needed to do was ask Soos. Since the handyman had been there the day Gideon called Bill back into the world, he was able to explain, in startling detail, what he'd seen. Candles, a chalk wheel, a photo of a target with the eyes crossed out, and of course he would need to use the chant. A chill passed over his body, those words were going to taste sour in his mouth but he was ready to sacrifice an arm and a leg to talk to Bill again.

It was fortunate enough that Mabel was out all day with her friends as he wouldn't need to venture out into the forest someplace private to get this done. Once he had all the supplies (his picture of choice was one of himself), he spread everything out on the floor and began drawing the Cipher wheel that was depicted in the journal. It was somewhat sloppy in the end despite his best efforts. His dexterity was at an all-time low between the sleepless nights, unwillful starvation, and his emotional suffering. But it would have to do. He lit the candles haphazardly and ended with the one directly in front of him, then began to recite the chant.

"Triangulum entangulum," he began. The words nearly made him gag at the sheer bitterness. He felt his eyes well with tears that he fought to hold back. "Veneforis dominus ventium." This time he did gag, doubling over into the circle and clutching his stomach with an unsteady hand. He was so angry and scared and nervous and regretful, and it was like every single emotion was trying to break out of him all at once. This was worse than any kind of hell Bill or any other demon could possibly put him through - it was worse than when his soul had been pulled from his body; this pain would never go away unless he fixed this. Wiping his eyes, he sat back up and took a deep breath, speaking with a wavering break in his voice, "Veneforis venetisarium."

Miraculously, he began to feel the familiar shock of static coursing through his brain as he was overcome with an energy that took hold of him and puppeteered his body, throwing him back and forcing a stream of ciphered Latin to pour from his lips. A few everlasting moments later, there he was - Bill Cipher - in the... well, not exactly in the flesh, but there in front of him. His arms were crossed and eye cast to the wall, a clear flood of hatred burning in his gaze. He spoke not a word.

"Bill!" Dipper called out, his voice cracked with anger and sadness and relief and fear. The demon didn't acknowledge him, he continued to hover above the alter with a disgust that could have killed. "Bill, I-"

He choked on his words, unsure of what he wanted to say. Despite the countless hours he spent cursing him and sobbing over him and pleading for forgiveness, he never really thought of what to say when - if - he ever saw Bill again. He had to pause, eyes shifting between all of Bill's features - his texture, his eye, his hat, bowtie, arms, the jar containing Dipper's soul draped around his shoulders... never did any of this seem so surreal and distant. He swallowed hard and sat back on his knees.

"Bill... I'm sorry," he finally muttered, hands clenched into fists on his thighs. The brim of his hat shadowed his face as he bowed his head.

Bill said nothing. Didn't even shift his gaze.

"Bill, please. I need you. You're my clarity, I swear. You aren't a nightmare, you're the best daydream I've ever had. It's..." he gulped down a frog that had lept into his throat and released a breath, "It's magic when you're beside me. I just can't get you off my mind." Dipper knelt forward in a position of worship, his forehead resting against the floorboards. Tears began to flow down his cheeks and onto the old wooden floors. He felt like an angel with no wings, held down and bound to the Earth craving liberation to fly with his, for lack of better words, god. "I haven't eaten or showered or slept in days. I miss our talks; you would tell me anything I wanted to know. I wrote all of it down in the journal! I want... I want that back."

"Yeah, Pine Tree?" Bill finally - finally - said with a chilling calmness. Dipper snapped up at the sound of his voice, eyes bright with a spark of hope yet still saturated with tears. Bill was staring down at him, nothing but unmistakable disappointment in his eye. He continued, "Is that what you want? You want me to be your open book so you have free access to anything you want to know? Is that it? That's all you care about." Dipper's jaw dropped wide open, horror spilled like ink in his eyes. This was it, he blew it. At some point, Bill had realized his true intentions from the very beginning and now he was going to lose so much more than he'd ever thought he'd gambled for.

"No," he sputtered, scrambling to his feet frantically, "no no no no, Bill, I'm sorry! I-"

"Yeah, you are sorry. You're just another sorry fleshbag who'll do anything to get answers. Well you know what? I'm sorry too. I'm sorry I wasted my time pitying you."

"Bill, please don't do this! You mean so much more to me than any answers I could ever have. I-I didn't know you back then like I do now, it's different!"

"It is different. You could have told me the truth at any time after that, but you still wanted your answers to your stupid mysteries. Everything these past weeks has been nothing but a joke to you. You used me. And for once, I'm tired of playing games." Bill jerked the jar off his body, snapping the string in the process. He looked into it with pure, unyielding hatred. "I shouldn't have expected anything less from a human. Those other demons are right, humans and demons aren't meant to mix. We're just too different, and I was stupid to ever think otherwise." Dipper was struck speechless, gaping at the other with disbelief. His veins were like ice, mind screaming pleas for Bill to stop, to forgive him and go back to the way things were. Tears fell like waterfalls from his eyes and he stumbled back with an oof as Bill chucked the jar at him, hitting him right in the gut. Dipper reflexively caught it and held it where it struck, never looking away from the demon. "Take your stupid soul back; refund's on me."

"Please, Bill, don't go! I don't want to say goodbye, I... I love y-"

"And don't ever summon me again," Bill snapped, smashing the alter with a bolt of his lightening and singeing his entry in the journal with the flick of his hand. Dipper fell back, startled by it, and quivered in his place.

Bill gave Dipper one last solemn glare, arms crossed and light dimmed.

"I really thought you were different, Pine Tree, I really did."

A short moment of grief and he was gone. This was it. The end.

For at least five minutes, Dipper didn't move. He was frozen solid with an almost lethal amount of shock. Chills ran up and down his spine, spreading numbness over his whole body while twinges of pain flickered every time his heart beat. When he did finally move, he hunched over, arms wrapped tight around his stomach, and wept with the same open-mouthed face of terror he'd had while it was happening. Staring down at the jar containing his soul in front of him, he watched as the center of the wisp darkened from a brilliant white to a smokey grey.

What had he done?

After another good five minutes when his eyes began to dry simply because he'd run out of tears to shed, he reached forward and took the container in hand, undoing the cap and allowing the spirit to flow back into the body. It was a warm, sweet feeling like a summer breeze. Slowly, the world began to fill with colour again and there could have been nothing more bleak.

Despite his best efforts, Dipper Pines was suffering unforeseen consequences.

A/N: Aaaand scene! Girlf said I should scrap the last line but fuckit bc I personally like title drops! Watch out for the sequel to this fic coming soon! (Soon as in, I already have the prologue written and am halfway done with chapter 1. But I'm gonna let this fic marinate for a while). This fic is complete; please please please let me know detailed thoughts on it as it is my first write-as-I-go fanfic that I've ever fully completed, aaand because I really appreciate comments hehe. Constructive criticism is welcome. Thanks for reading!