Before even opening his eyes, Bill felt a stab of pain in his head as he came around. A throbbing migraine made itself known to the demon, and was so strong he could barely think.

And the lights, ugh, the lights. Wherever he was, the lights were just far too much; blinding white fluorescence just piercing into his skull.

He began to raise a hand, to rub his aching head, but found that he could not move.

Wait, what? What's going on...

As he woke up more, Bill saw that his hands were tightly bound to the chair he was sitting in. His feet and waist as well, he noticed. Even a gag, for fuck's sake. What the hell happened?

And somehow, as if triggered by the mere question, the floodgates of Bill's memories opened, and everything came back to him.

So somebody found Dipper and I, and... knocked me out...

Bill felt himself growing angry, but... he simply couldn't be upset with his predicament. Honestly? He felt he deserved it, and any other tragedy or inconvenience that befell him from that point on.

So he just slumped back into his rigid wooden chair, and waited for whatever was to come and deal him his hand of karma.

"He's awake," a voice announced. Footsteps followed this, and soon Bill could see a few figures standing behind that intolerable light in his face.

"Are you sure...?" Another asked, timid and cautious.

"I don't care at this point. I'm tired of waiting on the bastard."

And with that, one of the larger figures approached and delivered a kick to Bill's chair, jolting him into alertness.

"Wake up! Wake up, asshole!"

Bill deduced that this one had to be Stanley Pines, the brute of the older twins. He much preferred Ford over him, but he obviously didn't have a say at the moment.

"Listen up, demon, you're in our hands now, and you're gonna talk. You're gonna tell us whatever we wanna know. And then, we'll decide how you're gonna pay for what you did to Dipper."

Hearing that name stung like a slap in the face.

"Dipper..." Bill whimpered, already feeling the tidal wave of emotions approaching him.

"What was that, demon? Didn't quite hear you."

Stanley then grabbed Bill by his jaw, and jerked his head up to face him. Bill didn't resist.

"Dipper..." He repeated, tears already rolling down his cheeks. He sobbed into Stan's hand, a long, defeated sigh.

Stanley was taken aback by the tears, no doubt, but his iron grip did not waiver.

"What about him?"

"T-Tell him I'm sorry," the demon choked out, his eyes shut tight.

"Yeah, sure, 'cause we all believe that. 'Specially Dipper. I'll tell him you said sorry and squeezed out some crocodile tears, and just like that you'll be off the hook. And you can go back to raping young boys, easy peasy."

Bill choked out another sob. "It- It wasn't me..."

Stanley's face twisted into rage. "Are you fucking kidding me?! Of all the bullshit things to say, you chose that? Of course it was you, you fucking psycho! What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

In the corner, Ford's voice whispered, "Mabel, go upstairs please."

"But-" she began to protest.

"Mabel."

With a frustrated sigh, the girl stomped out. Following her departure, Ford approached the chair.

He appeared calm, much calmer than Stanley, but Bill new that the man was holding back his rage. He knew that look, steely and hard, his eyes lit with hatred.

With a frighteningly even tone, Ford questioned, "What exactly are you playing at, Bill?"

"I'm not playing-"

"Liar!" Stanley shouted, and before anyone could react, the man delivered a quick blow to the demon's jaw.

"Stanley, Stanley!" Ford yelled, jumping over to restrain his brother, "Calm down!"

"He hurt him, Ford! He hurt Dipper!"

"I know, I do! But losing your temper is not the best way to go about this. Just... go cool off upstairs with Mabel."

Stanley was about to interject, but Ford grunted a short "trust me," and so he reluctantly backed off.

"You better tell me everything he says."

The door slammed as he stormed out.

Bill's eyes trailed back to Ford, the old familiar face he once knew. The older man sighed, adjusted his cracked glasses, and turned back around.

"Listen, I've got you trapped. After the stunt you pulled on me, I made this place demon-proof, so your chances of escape are slim to none, emphasis on none."

Ford took another step forward, and his voice lowered.

"So you better start talking, before I conduct some more research on the weaknesses of demons, starting with the physical ones."

Bill had forgotten how intimidating Ford could be.

After being kicked out of interrogation, Mabel decided she could still make herself useful by checking on Dipper. So, she made her way to the attic, climbing the old splintery stairs to where her brother was sleeping off some of his trauma.

But halfway up the steps, she heard crying, and broke into a run.

She threw open the door to see her brother writhing on the mattress, tears and cries escaping him.

"Dipper! Dipper, wake up!" She said, frantically making her way to his bed to wake him up. She took hold of his shoulders and shook him like a ragdoll.

Promptly, his eyes snapped open, and he began to panic.

"No, no! Get off me, get away!"

"Dipper! It's me, Mabel! It's okay, it's okay!"

Dipper seemed to come around a bit more, and his breathing slowed, his eyes locking onto Mabel's.

And with his realization, he collapsed into her embrace, sobbing into her sweater.

"He- He's back. He came back, Mabel..."

"Ssh, I know, but we got him, you're safe now. He can't get you, I promise."

Dipper continued to cry.