I Should Probably Introduce Myself
The day Dipper Pine’s relatively normal life changed to weird was the day he had traveled to the always odd Gravity Falls. It changed again, only slightly, when he and his twin sister Mabel moved permanently to the strange town to live with their great uncles Stan and Ford. And finally, the day Dipper’s life eventually grew too weird for him to handle was the day a tanned skin, spindly teen with a flop of black and blond hair crashed in through the tiny attic window.
It was merely days after his and Mabel’s seventeenth birthday, and he was on his bed flipping through a book on cryptids that Ford had given him when the window had shattered, only for half of a torso to tumble in.
Dipper gave a “manly” squeal, brandishing the book up and above his head as if he were prepared to beat the intruder off with it. Mabel’s pet pig Waddles gave a squeal of terror and scurried from the room, leaving Dipper alone with the boy who had began to push himself up from where he had landed face first on the floor, still half out the window. He was sliced up decently with the broken glass, but the first thing Dipper saw was the eyes. Or eye, rather. The left eye was covered with a black patch that wrapped around the intruder’s head, but the uncovered eye hardly had an iris. Only a thin black pupil, nearly a cat-like pupil.
He knew that eye, it’d been in his worst nightmares. And Dipper screamed. The eye lit up in amusement at Dipper’s terror, and the familiar voice cackled, “Hi again, Pine Tree. It's been too long since I last heard you scream.”
“Get out!” Dipper demanded, scrambling off the bed to cautiously approach the teen. “What are you, you're not-”
The boy looked around the room, “Where’s Shooting Star’s bed? Did she die?”
Dipper spluttered at that, because no, his sister did not die. They were no longer twelve, nor were they just visiting. Both of them had gone through puberty, a single bedroom to share wouldn't work out very well. So Grunkle Stan had gotten the roaches out of his man cave and cleaned it up a bit so that Mabel could have her own room, to which she had certainly Mabel-ized. However, he wasn't about to tell the intruder where his sister was.
“I'll ask again - who are you?”
“I take it you missed me then!” the dark haired boy continued to laugh, the only blond part of his hair, his fringe, flopping into his face as he crawled the rest of the way in and toppled into the broken glass.
The eye could only belong to Bill Cipher, Dipper knew. But the body was not the triangular shape of the demon that had once been out for blood. In fact, the body was very much human.
The person with Bill Cipher’s eye had a long torso with even longer limbs if it were possible. He was angular still with a sharp jaw and a sharp nose and dark tanned skin. He wore a yellow vest over a black suit, and a black top hat had fallen into the glass on the floor when the person had broken into the room. Dipper was actually fairly surprised no one had shown up at the commotion the person was causing.
“You're not Bill,” Dipper stepped forward once more, his book still clutched tightly in his hands. His grip only tightened as the boy pushed himself not-so gracefully to his feet and shook glass off of himself.
“Is this a game?” the familiar eyed stranger asked. “Okay, I'll play. I'm not Bill. I'll be Dipper Pines. Who do you want to be?”
Dipper wanted to yell for one of his uncles, even for his sister. But if the stranger with the eye patch was in fact Bill, then he figured that he had found himself in terrible danger.
“You can't be Bill Cipher. You aren't shaped like a Dorito,” Dipper mumbled.
“I know I'm not as handsome in this form, but at least cut me some slack, Pine Tree. I haven't killed you yet!”
Dipper boldly turned away to look behind himself, silently pleading with someone to at least come and check up on him. Yet when he turned back around, Not-Bill, or perhaps Bill, was standing in front of him oozing blood all over the floor and his suit from the glass cuts on his hands and face.
“Jesus!” Dipper gasped, tripping over his own feet in surprise and stumbling backwards.
“Why doesn't anyone ever use my name as a sort of swear? I’m way better than the bearded guy constantly in his bathrobe,” the bleeding boy clumsily tried to crouch, but ended up sprawling onto the floor as well, half on top of Dipper. “Bill Cipher!”
It was all summed up in Dipper’s mind then. Bill Cipher was alive. Bill Cipher had just broken into Dipper’s second story window. Bill Cipher was practically on top of him. And so, yelling for someone, anyone, the entire time, Dipper scrambled to his feet and raced from the room.
Mabel was at the kitchen table with Grunkle Stan, carefully drawing on the older man’s arm with a purple fine tip Sharpie. Dipper all but flung himself over the table, sending the sharpie haphazardly across Grunkle Stan’s arm.
“Dipper!” Mabel protested. “You ruined his rose tattoo!”
“Bill-” Dipper croaked. “Bill is back!”
Mabel and Grunkle Stan exchanged a look, most likely taking in the blue and white pine tree marked hat that was now askew on top of Dipper’s wild brown hair, not to mention how crazed his brown eyes had to have looked.
“We killed him nearly four years ago, kid,” Grunkle Stan raised an eyebrow, but his voice was hesitant.
“He is literally,” Dipper paused to suck in a deep breath of air. “He just crashed through the upstairs window. He's in my room right now.”
“No, actually.”
Three heads snapped to the kitchen entrance. Human and non-triangular Bill stood, still dripping blood from his cuts. He raised a hand in greeting.
Mabel’s mouth fell open, “Uh… that's not Bill? He isn't a triangle. Plus he's hot.”
That earned a snort from Grunkle Stan.
“You don't recognize me, Shooting Star?” Bill pouted. “What about you, Stanford?”
Stan stood then, striding over with fists clenched, “I recognize a demon when I see ‘em. And it's Stan.”
Just as Stan started to clench his fists, Mabel, always the kind one, scrambled up from the table as well, “Grunkle Stan, wait! He's already bleeding all over. And he doesn't look dangerous.”
Dipper sneaked behind them both peeking around to glare at the tall human-Bill, “He’s bleeding because he broke in through my window.”
Mabel blinked in confusion, “We have other windows closer to the ground, you know… and a door.”
Bill, who had been picking at some one of the cuts on his hand amusedly, shrugged, “It's triangular and I've fit through it before. It was just a little more difficult this time. Also messy. Human pain is kind of intriguing.”
Bravely, Mabel stepped forward the final steps despite her uncle and brother’s protests, grabbing Bill by the sleeve, “We need to get the glass out of your hands and you need bandaids.”
“Mabel!” Dipper pulled the girl away from the taller boy, making her headband slip as she stumbled and huffed. “No! We don't befriend the enemy! He's tried to kill us before!”
Stan pulled both of the twins away, eyeing Bill suspiciously, “Why did you come through Dipper’s window, anyway?”
“Well, fine,” Bill sighed, flicking glass onto the floor as he pulled it from his finger. “I was hoping we could have some nice small talk before I told you about the impending doom you all will face soon.”
Stan bristled and his eyes darkened behind his large glasses as he pushed Dipper and Mabel further behind him. Seventeen or not, but the older man still saw them as twelve year olds who needed protecting. “Is that a threat?”
Wiping his hands across his vest and smearing blood, Bill then offered out a hand to shake, “A promise, rather, a truce. It's not me causing the doom this time. You kicking me to the curb and trapping me in stone in the mindscape, you didn't kill me by the way, let another head honcho in. There's a new demon in town, and they want to wipe out humanity. Thought I'd let my favorite meatsack know.”
Bill attempted to lean around Stan to wiggle his visible eyebrow at Dipper. At that, Stan promptly swung his fist out, connecting with Bill’s jaw, and efficiently knocked the demon out cold.