Roleplay

Pacifica made a broken, half angry noise and only pulled back enough so that she could look Dipper in the eyes as she snarled, "I want you to picture me saying something similar to what you just told me and the try to tell me it's okay."

She shoved her face back into Dipper's shoulder and tried to focus on making her shaking stop before giving up on it. She had more important things to worry about anyways.

"It'll never be okay, it's not right and it's not fair and I'm going to f*cking kill that demon," she growled into his shirt. "You're alive and fine and I'm so so thankful for that. But it never should have happened to you and Bill in the first place. Let alone multiple times." She wondered if her anger was being manifested in the weird dreamscape somehow but she wasn't going to be moving to check.

Finally, very firmly she added, "I'm going to tell the old man about it."

Instantly the thought made him feel sheepish. "You have a good point there," he mumbled. "I wouldn't think it was okay either..."

Then he felt his blood run away from his face. "Please don't tell Grunkle Stan, he's so stressed and he doesn't need any more reasons to be mad, especially with his brother, and please, we can't upset him any more. I'll be fine; we can fix it to our list of things to work on, okay?"

She frowned and shifted so that she was more sitting between his legs and her head tucked under his chin instead of sprawled on top of him. "I know that, but," she grit her teeth, "But if we want to get rid of the b*stard's demon in any way, we'll need the b*stard's help, at least a little bit as much as I hate to admit it. And the best way to get that is with the old man's help."

She chewed on her lip. "I mean if you could come up with something else I would jump on it because you're right and the old man doesn't need yet another thing on his plate, but," she paused, "We could phrase it so that the b*stard comes off blameless, I mean as far as I can tell his only mistake here was bringing the f*cking demon home in the first place and not making sure he had a tight enough leash on it."

"Play it right and I bet we could get the b*stard to be the one to kick it out, or better yet kill it so it won't be a threat anymore." Cold she knew but- "It hurt you Dipper. It hurt you, and killed Bill and threatened Stan and almost killed Pi, and it'll only be so long before it does something that we can't recover from."

Which meant that she would take it out. She had only just gotten the Pines family as her own, and she wasn't going to let them go that easily. They were her's now and that meant that she would do anything to protect them.

Anything.

But that just didn't sit right with Dipper.

"I know this sounds crazy, but... Sigh is what Bill used to be like. You remember Bill in the beginning? He was gonna use me to end the world... Sigh is causing problems, yeah, but... Maybe we just need to sit down and talk to him? Maybe he needs more affection from Ford, or some huge thing like I had with Bill to make it work?"

His arms were still around Paz when he added very quietly. "I don't want anyone else hurt or dying. Even with all Ford has done I don't want to see him shove a part of his heart out the door. We all need to talk about this..."

He sounded sad when he spoke next. "Perhaps they don't deserve it in some ways, but... Hurting and killing that isn't in direct defense of yourself or someone you love isn't in my nature. I... I can't. I'm sorry." I'm too soft.

Pacifica couldn't help the bitter slightly wet sounding laugh that came from her throat. "The b*stard showing affection now that would be the day."

She wanted to disagree with him, every bone in her body shook and screamed that the demon needed to pay for what it had done to her boys, to her family. But Dipper, she leaned a little bit heavier into his chest, Dipper didn't want that. Because he was good in a way she didn't think she ever could be.

"Okay," she said quietly, "We'll add it to our list and find some other way to deal with it. On a few conditions. If we can't get it to work you're way, we do it my way. If it hurts someone again, you at least think about my way alright?"

"And under no circumstances do I even have to act like I like it." She turned and buried her face in his chest, her shoulders shaking. "I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I"m not like you. I want it dead, I want it hurt, I want it to pay. I can't- I can't be like you."

Like the corrugated roof of a cardboard shack, Bill sagged with relief, although he was careful not to drop or even unnecessarily jostle the confusion of bottles and jars Ford had laden him with.

"Thank God," the dream-demon said, with feeling. "I was convinced I'd f*ck up at some point and slip, and call your demon some very unkind things, and then you'd get mad and shoot me again, even though it's clearly my turn to shoot you."

Bill tried to smile, to show that he was joking; it was a dreadful attempt, but obviously heartfelt.

He followed Ford docilely enough, either not caring that the man had compared him to his arch-nemesis, or—perhaps—tacitly agreeing.

(And it was possible that Bill, in his state, hadn't even caught it at all ... although Ford would know better than anyone just how unlikely that was: even sick, the demon more or less retained the breadth of his wits, and as Stan had discovered, even his raving had been possessed of a unsettling cunning and uncanny awareness.)

As they walked, Bill added, conversationally, "He more than hurt me, y'know. I actually capital-D died, both times, though I've been trying to keep that from Dipper so's I'd appreciate if you'd do the same.

"Crippled me, this last time," Bill went on, his tone reminiscent. "The kids want to do something about it, I think. They're sweet, but there's just some things you can't fix."

"Okay. I can agree to that. And trust me if I ever actually caught them in the act of hurting anyone I'd fight back. You saw me go after that mafia jerk with the pen, right?" A fight, a defense felt justified to him somehow.

"And of course not. I don't like it, don't like him either. But... Sometimes monster can change. People too." Knowing she would catch his meaning, he curled around her a little more. You would be like me too, if you'd felt that. Being dead is lonely. I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

Ford felt his stomach drop to his feet as Bill started to talk and he almost wanted to ask if he was that bad, If he had come off as someone that would shot simply out of anger. He, at least to himself, knew the reasoning and logic behind each time he had attacked the demon. Not always correct in hindsight, but there was always something more than just anger, a need to protect his brother, a need to protect his family, and a loss of control that had meant he didn’t even know he was shooting at Bill until after the fact, having slipped into habits and memories built over thirty years of fighting for his life.

“I don’t think you know,” Ford said quietly eyes cutting to the demon and then away again, “But after the first- the first time I shot you, Dipper threatened me if I ever hurt you again. I’m still waiting for that knife in my back truthfully.” His lips twitched into a sad sort of smirk. “Wouldn’t blame him for it, though I’m terrified of what Sigh would do in return.”

Ford was

Ford was often terrified of what Sigh could and would do to the rest of the family. Only the idea that Ford would be able to at least slow him down (sometimes, the fight between Sigh and Pi flashing behind his eyes) kept him from outright looking for ways to kill his demon. He didn’t have the same need to keep Sigh alive for others as he did with Bill, as far as Ford knew he would be the only one truly hurt if his demon died. Which was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

(A hero always did the right thing even if it seemed impossible. Ford knew that even if he couldn't always live up to it.)

“So I think Dipper has dibs on shooting me first.”

Then Bill’s words were sinking in and he had frozen without even realizing it. A dull roaring echoed in his ears and he barely heard the hollow words that came out of his mouth. “Sigh killed you. He killed you.” He thought that some part of him should feel elated, after all fragile truce or not, he had spent thirty years trying to kill the demon, but it wasn’t there.

Was it because the knowledge that Sigh had killed Bill meant that his demon was even more of a danger to the family than he had thought? He had been there the second time, had seen the brutal swift uncaring attack on Cipher-turned-Bill. Did Sigh know that he had killed Bill? He thought his hands were shaking.

God, if Sigh could kill Bill who was next? He had gotten close with Pi. Would it be Stan? They had fought after all. Gods what if Mabel set him off with her unique way of looking at the world? Or Miss Northwest with her eyes like fire and inability to back down. His breath caught and some part of him clinically told him that he had missed the last of Bill’s words and the demon was walking away from him.

And while in his darkest angriest moments, Ford had wanted this changed Bill dead, his paranoia and need for safety running rampant, he never would have gone through with it. Not purposely. Not while Dipper and Stan loved him oh so much. Especially, not after Stan had chosen Bill over him. Ford going through the portal had his brother throwing away thirty years of his life to bring him back.

Losing Bill would destroy him.

Why hadn’t Sigh told him?

He didn’t recognize his own voice as it added, “He’s a danger then.” Ford almost wanted to laugh hysterically at the irony of this happening so soon after he had told Sigh that he would kill him if he was a danger to the world. It looked like he might have to follow through with that no matter how much he hated it, no matter how much he wanted to jerk away from the thought and eliminate it altogether as a possibility.

He couldn't though.

He couldn’t.

~~

Paz curled a little tighter into Dipper’s chest, her grip tightening. Because sometimes they couldn’t change. Sometimes they deserved what Dipper had gone through even if the boy in question didn’t. If she could swap the b*stard’s demon and Dipper’s recent experiences, she would. In a heartbeat. Let it go through all that.

She

She didn’t know if dying would make her more like Dipper, more willing to forgive, or to show mercy. Maybe it would make her worse. It was hard to tell.

“I never actually saw it,” she said lightly, fakely, trying to lighten the mood. “Only a memory of it.”

"He was pretty much a jerk at first. I wasn't much nicer to him. He scared me, became the subject of my nightmares. And then... Things changed. We found similarities, common ground. Somehow I became endearing to him and he fought hard not to lose me. He showed me that he was capable of change and love and kindness and I began to love him too. It was... Complicated, messy at first, and sometimes it still is, but..."

He shrugged lightly. "I love what it's become and wouldn't trade it for anything. Not the world."

"Good," Paz murmured, "You two deserve each other."

She took a deep breath, and then another, and another, until she no longer felt like there was a weight sitting on her chest, a bright fire of anger in her heart. "Okay, okay, we really need to stop doing this agreeing not to talk about something serious and then ending up doing so anyways."

"So," she declared imperiously, "Exploring? See what's around here?"