It had been years since Dipper had become trapped inside of his great uncle's mind. Finally, he had reason to understand the old man, and he never got the chance to tell him. Luckily, Soos and Mabel had gotten out; he would feel even worse if they were here, as lonely as he got. This place would suck the life out of Mabel, and no amount of creating fictional high schoolers would cheer her up. Soos's jokes would have run out and the smile would've left his face. In the beginning, he would've tried to find a way to be helpful, but it would've been futile.

Dipper had resigned himself to his fate.

He'd tried and tried to get himself out. He could summon the most unreal things and make them reality. Out of nothing came talking ice cream, lizards that could speak German, waffles with the legs of athletes, and even change himself. Admittedly, he had no idea where the part deer, part boy idea came from, but it had helped him deal with the boredom of being stuck in Stan's mind.

He couldn't change everything. Once the demon left Stan's mind, and Soos and Mabel jumped in with him, Dipper had become trapped. Over and over, again and again, he had searched for a way out. For days at a time all he would do was plot and plan, only to fail once again.

It seemed fate didn't mind keeping him locked up.

Another thing he couldn't change was the hole in his chest. No matter what he did, he couldn't put his chest back together. At least no one could see him now that he was trapped in the halls of the mind of his great uncle. It wasn't much, but it was the little good that Dipper got.

Despite having loads of information on hand about his great uncle, he very rarely looked at his memories. For one thing, he was a very disgusting guy. Dipper never wanted to catch the guy doing anything. There was no guarantee that Dipper could wipe his mind clean, so he simply avoided any possible trauma. The other thing was that it was just plain rude. Just because he was stuck in his great uncle's mind didn't mean that he had the right to learn the old man's every single dirty little secret.

So he spent his days making unreal things to entertain himself, wishing it were different, and still holding onto (scraps of) hope.

He had aged out in Stan's mind, though at a slow pace. For the longest time he had been the same age, and slowly he'd changed. Puberty was shitty as hell, but being stuck inside your great uncle's head makes it a thousand times worse. Now, Dipper hypothesized that he was about eighteen or nineteen, though he was leaning more towards nineteen.

Considering how he was always alone (at least without his strange creations), he nearly had a heart attack when he heard a voice besides Stan's.

"May I enter your hole?"

Dipper turned around. "You!"

"Missed me?" It was Bill Cipher. The talking pyramid was just as strange as ever. Blue fire was glowing from his hands. "I was wondering why I never saw you around Gravity Falls. Who would've guessed that you would've been stuck here?" He put a hand through the hole in Dipper's chest. "I made quite the impression, didn't I?"

Dipper backed away from him. "Dude, stop that!"

The demon shrugged, but moved away from him. "So you've been in Stan's mind all along, eh?"

Dipper threw his hands in the air. "Do you think I'd come back to this damn place?"

Bill shrugged again. "You never know with your types." Dipper considered asking what he meant by "your types", but he figured he'd just get another headache inducing cryptic answer. "Look Pine Tree, I've got business to get to. Stan's got some information on him that I need, and I am not having you mess this up again." He pointed a glowing blue finger at his throat. "You got that?"

"What do you want it for?" Dipper didn't think before he asked, and realized that the demon could kill him for that. He hoped that the blue fire didn't hurt.

But then again, did it matter? It was either die or be damned to spend the rest of his miserable existence in Stan's mind. All he could pray for was that he didn't end up haunting his great uncle's mind. That would make things even worse.

The demon chuckled. "It has nothing to do with that Southern boy, if that's what you're worried about."

Dipper scowled at the mention of Gideon. Just the thought of him made his blood boil.

"I have my own needs." He pointed a finger at Dipper. "Do you want out of here?"

"Yes!" Again, Dipper didn't think before he spoke. What price would Dipper have to pay?

The demon laughed. "I should've figured it."

"So what's the cost?" He lowered his hat to cover his eyes. There was no use trying to ignore the question that really mattered. Dipper was making a deal with a demon, and one that might as well have been the devil himself.

"The cost," Bill said, "is to let me get this memory. Like I said, it has nothing to do with that white haired kid."

Dipper actually thought over his answer. On one hand, he would be free. On the other, he had no idea what Bill would actually want.

"Can you hurry up? I don't have all day." Bill looked at his hands the same way that Dipper had seen women look at their nails.

"Okay, okay!" He thought once more. "Are you trying to steal the shack?"

The demon burst out laughing, the sound echoing throughout the dark halls. A Stan bat quickly flew away in fear. "Of course not! What would I need that stupid place for?" Dipper scowled at his words. "That's childs play. If I wanted it all I'd have to do was snap my fingers."

Says the guy who couldn't get the security code to Gruncle Stan's safe, Dipper thought.

"Look, do you want my help?" The demon put his hands on his sides. "This is the last time I'm asking."

"Yes," Dipper said. "I want your help."

The demon reached out his glowing blue hand. "Fine, then let's shake on it."

Dipper hesitated.

"Don't worry, this won't burn you, at least not when I'm in this mood." He flew closer to Dipper. "Look, let's shake and move out."

"Alright," Dipper said with a sigh, and shook Bill's hand. Just like he'd said, the fire didn't burn him.

He just hoped he hadn't dug himself into a deeper hole.