I stare at him, right in the eye, stunned beyond words and stuck absently chewing on the corner of my lip, more out of something to do than anxiety. How dare he. How dare he. This isosceles menace makes my life a living hell and he simply assumes that I'll accept no as an answer? I've got more spine than this, I've got a backbone. And what does he have? What is that, like, bricks or formed light or something? The glow makes my eyes ache. And who cares? Not me. It isn't important. I have a deal to make and I'm putting my foot down.

"No. You're going to hear out my demands, not give me an awful, one-sided deal that only benefits you," I practically spit the words out and wish I could undo it. Who do I think I am? I can't handle an all-powerful, omniscient being on my own, let alone in his domain, his playing field. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Surprisingly, he leans back from me and moves his tiny legs and arms into a position I can only describe as meditative. Tiny middle fingers touch tiny thumbs and his legs snake around each other as if they're charmed. It's odd, to say the least, considering he doesn't appear to have any joints. He opens his eye slightly, as if generally annoyed at my presence suddenly.

"Fine," The all-seeing eye says. It's simple, curt, and there's no elaboration for what seems like an eternity. This makes my chest tighten and restrict moreso than if he would have said something outright rude and condescending, "Ya want memories that bad? I can provide 'em."

"W-wait, really?" I inquire, incredulous. He's actually listening to me for once. I can't help but feel highly suspicious, but I press on. It's not likely this will happen twice, "I mean, uh,"

Pressing on: failed.

"Yes, really," He laughs, but it's devoid of any true potential emotion. And that's what scares me; he's a calculating, manipulative one who seems like he's always a step ahead, keeping that smug expression up like it's his head above water.

He swirls his hand and an illusion of a contract falls into place next to him, eye squinting upwards. I can only imagine he would look manic if he felt like wearing a mouth. The triangle practically sings, "For a price of course,"

I hold my breath, gaining control over my words and internal shaking, "And that would be..?"

"Y'see, the way I'm thinking, it's like a timeshare! Yanno, those...weird human things. Where they pay some ridiculous price ta share some stuffy condo on the beach? And then everyone gets mad if they don't get what weekend they want—I'm getting lost in the analogy here, Will,"

"Are you trying to scam me into some condo on the beach or—"

"NO!" He booms and shifts schemes, taking on that hideous, demonic tone that sends shivers through my core, "Ahah-sorry- I sneezed! Point I'm trying to make here is that I wanna split your body! Fifty-fifty!"

Obviously, my face morphs into disgust. What the—

"Not literally! Although..." His form tilts to the side, pupil sliding upwards, lost in a fond thought, "Maybe later! For right now I just wanna offer you your memories to fill in over time, in exchange for nighttime puppeteering of your body! You'll still be rested though, so don't you worry that pretty little head!"

This guy in my body? The thought is revolting. Who knows what kinds of inhuman torture he'd wreak? Does he even know what requirements a human body requires? I swallow hard, contemplating. Pros: memories, be a functional human being again, I'll find out who I really was. I won't have to follow set paths and routines to a T. He'll make sure I'm rested. All good things.

Cons: This guy. In my body. The thought is revolt—Oh. right. I'm backtracking again. Sorry.

I close my eyes and reach out my hand. Hopefully this decision isn't completely driven by exhaustion.

"Deal," It's only one word, but it feels like my chest is on fire. I crack my eye open and hear him respond in the same tone as he takes my larger hand in his. This blue fire of Bill's stings, but doesn't linger for long, something I'm glad for. He turns to shadow and I wake up hyperventilating, Mabel pressing her hand to my forehead, a wet cloth in between. She tries to calm me down and it works, though I'm still trembling. Her voice is soothing as she talks me down from the attack. It seems like she knows what to do.

Of course she does. Dipper's had plenty of these breakdowns. Wait.

Hold on.

I remember them.

Short-ish chapter, but hey, it's chock-full of stuff.

Wow. It's...It's been about a thousand years, hasn't it, ff dot net? I'm pretty sure I'll have to fix a few things here and there in my stories to keep them up with the canon storyline, but it'll be simple for the most part. That being said, I'd like to promo some old ones now that the fandom has grown. I've missed the huge takeoff it seems!

Other stories are available on my profile, but my personal favorite is Lil Ol Me (Plus it's complete! Check it out!). 618 is also a pretty good one, so I've heard.

This all being said though, don't consider me being back to writing these like I was in the beginning. This was a spur of the moment muse. I appreciate all the comments and questions, favs and follows, so thank you!

And to answer Guest's question: Yes, this is based off the fanon of Mairzydotes' His Name Was Billy Mischief. Read that. Honestly. I can't promo it enough.