Dipper stared into the dark sky above him as it slowly turned from a dark purple to a deep, dark grey that hovered just on the border of black. His heart was racing, the only part of him that was moving, goosebumps rose along the back of his arms and legs, and his hair stuck to the back of his neck. It took him a moment to even remember to breathe again.

By the time he did, Bill had appeared. He was shadowy in the dim light, but Dipper could still make out the triangle hovering above him. From the distance, he looked so tiny, nothing but a shape floating in the sky.

For a moment, both were still. No wind blew that night, leaving Dipper hot. His sweat continued to pour down him.

Just relax, he thought.

But how could he? That would go against the rules that Bill had set up in this dream world. It was Dipper's dream, but Bill was the puppeteer of them.

If Bill didn't want wind, then there was no wind.

If Bill wanted to hover above him, then he could.

Dipper had been sure for quite some time that he wasn't sleeping right. His sleep was frantic, with nights where he tossed and turned endlessly. His few dreams would be strange and impossible to describe; by the time he woke up, Dipper would hardly remember any of it. There were also nights where he seemed to pass out, dreaming nothing at all, and waking up far later than usual. Those were the days where Mabel couldn't shake him awake.

"You didn't seem like you were there," Mabel had said one morning while eating a sandwich. Dipper had pulled out some roast beef to make his own; by the time he got up, it was too late for the homemade waffles that his uncle had made earlier. Waddles, much to the pig's delight, had eaten the waffles for him (though he likely had a little help from Mabel).

Slowly, Bill floated downwards. His one eye never blinked nor looked away from Dipper. Dipper could only stand still, his eyes locked on the dream demon above him.

Dipper had always suspected that Bill might have something to do with his strange sleeping patterns and odd dreams.

He just hadn't thought that he would confront him quite like this.

What am I supposed to do? Dipper suddenly thought. It was impossible to look away from the dream demon's cold gaze, a gaze that froze Dipper in place. How could he confront Bill when he stood as still as a statue?

No, Dipper realized, he hadn't actually planned what to do once he confronted Bill at all.

The demon moved ever closer. As he did so, Bill grew larger and larger. Though he had yet to outsize Dipper, it was only a matter of time before Dipper was the size of an ant under him.

"Well, well, well," Bill said in his all too familiar voice. "Glad to see you, Pine Tree."

His voice snapped Dipper back to normal. He quickly stepped away from Bill.

Dipper's dreams had started to become more and more lucid. This?

This was unexplainable.

Well, Dipper realized, forcing a deep breath in, it would be. But I've fought him before and I can fight him again.

Bill was a splash of color in the now black and white dreamscape. He glowed a luminescent yellow, and the color at the edge of him seemed to pulse. His eye remained firmly on Dipper, never wavering in the slightest.

Don't show fear, Dipper told himself. At least try and act brave.

"What are you doing here?" It wasn't until the end that his voice cracked.

Bill laughed, the sound echoing through Dipper's ears.

"You're a funny one, Pine Tree. By now most people are screaming."

Dipper straightened his back and clenched his fists. He raised them from his sides and began to wave them in the air, like tough guys in movies did. "Look, whatever you want, it's not happening and I'm not doing it. At least not without a fight."

Bill's eyebrow narrowed. He raised a thin black finger up and rubbed it just below his eyeball, about the closest thing the triangle had to a chin. "You want a fight, Pine Tree? Sounds fun." Bill chuckled again. "Sorry, though, but I'm not here to fight."

Dipper bit his lip. "Well then what are you here for?"

"Oh, you know," Bill replied, casually waving his hands in the air. "Just watching you like I always do. This time I just thought of getting up close and personal." He floated closer, and Dipper nearly tripped trying to back away from him.

"What the heck, man! What was that for?"

Wait, why would Bill have a reason? Dipper realized. It's not like he needs one when he's, well, Bill.

"Just keeping my eye on you," the triangle replied. "Someone has to look out for you, because it's obvious you can't."

Dipper huffed. "If anyone needs to be watched, it's you."

The demon chuckled. "Well, you can always watch me."

Dipper nearly stepped forward, but stopped himself. The last thing he needed was to be even closer to Bill.

"Look, if you want to use my body again then-"

"Look, kid, I'm not here for that."

Dipper was quiet for a moment, his finger raised at the sudden objection.

"I don't want to give you deer teeth or screaming heads. Your body is yours to do with whatever you like, and I have no current need for a human vessel."

"Then what do you want?" Dipper narrowed his eyes. Something had to be fishy. This was Bill, after all.

"I just came to watch you, that's all. Go on with the rest of your dream like normal." The dream demon suddenly shrunk back to his normal height.

"And why do you want to watch me?" Dipper stepped forward, meeting the demon in the eye.

"Because," Bill said, as if the answer was obvious (and not wrapped in an enigma, just like just about everything else about the dream demon was), "someone has to do it."

"My sister and great uncle look after me just fine." Dipper stiffened. "And hey, I can take care of myself."

"Sure, sure," Bill replied. "I bet you were thinking the same thing when that floor fell out from under your feet today and your sister had to save you with her grappling hook."

Dipper felt his cheeks go hot. "How did-"

Dipper froze.

"Oh, right," Dipper replied, looking to the grey grass below him. "Always watching."

Bill laughed. "That's the spirit!" Dipper looked back up, locking his eyes with Bill's one single eye. "Look, don't get so worked up about it. All I'm doing is watching you for a few hours before you wake up. I don't see what's so wrong with that."

Dipper rolled his eyes. "Nothing seems wrong to you."

The demon suddenly turned red, and Dipper stiffened. "Would you care to repeat that?"

Dipper shook his head.

Bill relaxed. "Good, then go back to your normal dream stuff or whatever. You can even pretend that I'm not here."

Dipper nodded before turning away. "Fine."

It was only when he stepped away that he smiled.

Some of his dream stuff couldn't quite be called normal.

Mabel's eyes took a few moments to adjust to the dim lighting.

Why is Waddles making all this noise? Mabel thought.

It took her a moment to remember that her pig couldn't sing.

And if he could, Mabel thought, her eyes slowly focusing on the dim form of her brother across the attic room, he wouldn't be singing girly Icelandic pop sensation Babba songs.

"Disco girl," a sleeping Dipper mumbled, turning slightly. The sound was followed by a quick snore and a few more mumbled lyrics.

Mabel couldn't help but smile. Considering how he had been sleeping for the last few months, this was actually a relief.

It took her a little while to tune out her brother, but when she did she quickly fell back asleep.

It was safe to assume that Dipper was sleeping just fine.

Dipper was no longer alone. He had been joined by the Multi-Bear and floating replicas of the Babba band members. Considering how sparkly the place was and how high pitched the music was, it seemed more like a dream his sister would be having.

I bet if Mabel were here, Dipper thought as he strummed on his shiny blue electric guitar, that she'd absolutely love it.

"Why are you doing this?" Bill roared.

"You told me to just act normal," Dipper said in a sing-song voice. Soon, the rest of the dream band followed along, keeping the music together. "And for me, this is normal."

Dipper paused, doing a quick guitar solo. He always sounded so much better in his dreams than when he tried to play an instrument in real life.

"But do you want to know what's not normal for me, Bill?"

Bill, who had his hands held to his sides as if trying to block out the noise, only grunted in reply.

"Having you in my dreams with me!" After a quick strum of his guitar, he began to sing "Disco Girl" once more, and performed it even louder than ever. The rest of the band joined along, filling the dream world with sound and making the black and white world much brighter. Bits of color were already appearing. "Now unless you want to stay and listen longer, I suggest that you get out!"