A/N: This is my first chaptered story in a very long time. I'm looking for a beta if anyone's interested.

The Gravity Falls Library had a new wing thanks to an anonymous donator.

Unsure where to begin, Wirt picked a random book from the shelf, titled "Creatures of The Old World: Folklore and Hearsay Part 1". It was black with gold lettering and a triangle symbol with an eye in the middle. The Eye of Providence? Was he about to dive into some conspiracy stuff? Or have a religious experience?

He sat down to read in a secluded corner. The table of content told him nothing. Who was he kidding, coming here? He had no idea if any of the content was helpful or relevant. He was far from a paranormal expert. So he had some personal experience, that didn't mean anything.

"What are you doing Wirt?" A question he had asked himself time and again ever since the reoccurring nightmare had started. Ever since he decided to do something about it.

Every night, for the past month and a half, he had dreamed of losing Greg to the branches, the cold, the lantern with its dancing flame. He had considered going back to therapy, it had helped last time, but then came the whispers. Anything else he could have written off as stress related, contacted his therapist, and hashed it out with her. The nightmares were gray and silent, the whispers insistent and vivid. During waking hours.

Hearing things could have gotten him declared insane. Maybe he was.

The book had no mention of voices so far. It was mostly accounts of encounters with the supernatural. Stories of how someone's great grandmother's gardener's niece had seen fairies or had a conversation with a spirit. Despite that, Wirt didn't dare skip any tales. Someone somewhere had had to survive The Unknown before, right? He couldn't be the only one.

Maybe the whispers were a latent side-effect brought on by certain life circumstances. Like struggling to get your degree, having difficulty finding a publisher for your poetry, having a falling out with your roommate because you woke them up with your screaming for a month before they moved out, forcing you to move too when you couldn't afford the rent on your own. Just normal life things.

Somehow, in the middle of everything wrong with his life, Wirt had stumbled on information about the Gravity Falls Library, and how it had a "legit" demonology and supernatural section. So he had uprooted himself and moved to Gravity Falls, where rent was cheap and the neighbors weird. Every time he thought about his first ever rash decision, he felt nauseous. What if this amounted to nothing? What was he doing?

The hopeful response to the later was "getting answers", the pessimistic "getting more lost". Wirt was partial to both. Though, the nightmares didn't bother him as often here, and he hadn't heard a single whisper since arriving to the small town. That had to be a good sign.

By the time the library closed, Wirt had gotten through the first three books of the folklore part of the series. No mention of The Unknown so far. He would ask the librarian for help tomorrow, now he just wanted to sleep.

The nightmare didn't come that night.

Well rested for the first time in a long while, Wirt made his way back to the library. He had second thoughts about asking for help but it wasn't like he needed to tell his whole life story to ask after a book. He would just ask if the librarian knew if there was any mention of The Unknown.

Psyching himself up as he walked to the front desk, Wirt took a deep breath and went for it.

"Excuse me, I was wondering if you knew any books in the supernatural section that-"

"Hello, stranger!" He was interrupted with an arm thrown on his shoulders, dragged away from the desk. The librarian smiled at his assaulter as he was pushed between bookcases.

"What are you doing, let go of me," Wirt stage whispered. They were in a library, yelling felt wrong. His attacker let go, and raising his hands in a non-threatening gesture, backed up a couple steps. He was a man around Wirt's age , brown eyes, brown hair, stockier than Wirt but shorter. Wirt glared at him, not at all taken in by his disarming smile.

"Sorry, man. I just didn't know how to approach you," the man said.

"So you decided the best course of action was grabbing me out of nowhere?"

The man rubbed the back of his neck, awkward. "Yes? I mean, not exactly." He glanced around. "Can we talk? We know what you're looking for and I think I can help."

Wirt raised an eyebrow at the "we". Were there more of... Whatever this man was. Was he in a gang? A cult? Wirt's eyes widened. Was he a drug dealer?

"Listen, if you're selling something, I'm not interested," Wirt informed in his most polite whisper-yell and started backing away, slowly. He just wanted information. He didn't need to get mixed up in a drug ring, or a cult, or a group of shut-in lumberjacks if the way this man dressed was any indication.

"Hey, whoa, no." The man made soothing motions with his arms, as though trying to calm a spooked animal. He even hunched to make himself look smaller and less threatening.

"Nothing like that, I promise. I realize that was a terrible first impression, so let me try again." He held out his hand for a handshake. "Hello, my name is Dipper, nice to meet you. I'm a paranormal investigator and the author and/or translator of a few of the books on the supernatural section."

Wirt had stopped backing away somewhere during the introduction and was eying Dipper's hand varily.

"You really should've opened with that," he said, meeting Dipper's eyes but not taking his hand.

"I know. I'm so sorry."

After another moment of hesitation, Wirt accepted the handshake. "Wirt. Nice to meet you, I guess."

It must have been a trick of the light but for a second it looked as if Dipper's eyes had gone yellow. Wirt let go of his hand, blinking. A pair of brown eyes blinked back at him.

"Uh, so a paranormal investigator. What does that entail, exactly?" He was seeing things, that's always an excellent sign.

"Let's sit down," Dipper gestured to a desk and a pair of chairs in a reading area behind Wirt. It was surrounded by bookcases with only a couple narrow corridors between shelves leading to it. Wirt realized that he had been backing himself into a corner. Good thing Dipper had calmed the situation down before he had time to make a fool of himself.

They sat on opposite sides of the desk.

"So, basically what I do is, I find and catalog supernatural creatures and phenomena, help with hauntings and such, keep an eye out for the unusual," Dipper explained.

"And write and translate books?"

"That, too. I compile different sources, check for legitimacy, and translate if needed." He shrugged, as though all of that wasn't a big deal. "Unrelated, but I also run a local tourist trap during the summers with my sister, whenever she can make it."

Wirt stared, impressed but attempting to hide it. This man did sound like the kind of person who could help him. There was something about their initial meeting still bothering him, though. "You said you know what I'm looking for," Wirt said, his mildly impressed stare turning watchful. "What did you mean? How do you know?" A thought occurred. "Are you psychic?"

Dipper took his hat off to scratch at the faded pine tree symbol. "Not exactly?" He glanced back at Wirt, looking like he wasn't sure where to take the conversation.

Still a little irritated with being manhandled and vary of his new acquaintance, Wirt snapped, "Are you asking me if you're psychic?" He immediately felt bad when he saw Dipper flinch. This man hadn't done anything to him, beyond being bad at first impressions. All in all, Dipper seemed harmless, if a bit odd. And he had offered to help a complete stranger.

"Look, I," Wirt rubbed his face with his hands. "I'm sorry. I just, I've been going through some stuff." He was so good at words, wow. "I mean, the last month or so has been difficult, and I know that's no excuse to being rude but I don't understand what's going on and I don't know you." He sighed, offering Dipper a small, sad smile. "I'm just so tired and confused, with everything. I get irritable."

Dipper returned the smile but otherwise his face was vacant. His eyes were absent. He blinked and the look was gone.

"No, it's alright. I get it. You've been through things you can't explain and the stuff you took for granted, you no longer can. That would get to anyone." He grinned, tugging on his messy bangs. "Taking all this," he motioned around and at the direction of the front desk, "into account, you've been a saint. I would've punched me in the face already."

Wirt smiled, lowering his guard a little. "I'll give myself points for non-violence, then." Dipper looked alert and content again so Wirt steered their conversation back on course. "About my earlier question."

"Oh, right, yeah." Dipper fidgeted on his seat, still smiling but nervous. "That's a long and complicated story. I guess the simple version is that I have a partner who's very knowledgeable and he saw you here yesterday."

"Your partner saw me," Wirt repeated, confused. "And he somehow figured out what I'm after? Dipper, that doesn't explain anything."

Dipper held up a hand. "I know. Sorry. I'm bad at explaining this," he gestured at his head. "You should talk to Bill. He can be pretty helpful when he wants to be, and he wants to talk to you," Dipper said. He smiled, reassuring. "Fair warning, though: he's kind of a dick. Also don't make any deals."

Wirt was about to ask what that was supposed to mean when Dipper fainted on his chair. His head lolled back and his body went limb. Wirt jumped up, ready to go to him. Just as suddenly as Dipper had collapsed, he sat back up. He remained slouched on the chair, eyes open yet half-lidded. As he watched Wirt, a slow grin formed. Wirt felt like he was caught by a predator.

Dipper's eyes shone yellow.

"Have a seat, Pilgrim. We have a lot to discuss." Dipper pointed to the chair Wirt had bolted up from.

"Dipper?" It was his face, it was his voice but his whole demeanor had changed. Where Dipper before had been awkward and harmless, the Dipper now looked relaxed to the point of over-confidence, and the nagging voice in the back of his brain focused on survival, was telling Wirt to either do as told right this second or to run for his life. He hesitated. This was and wasn't Dipper. The nasally echo that followed his voice, the complete attitude change. He had seen something like this before.

"Demonic possession," Wirt whispered.

Dipper, or whoever this was, laughed, too loud for a library. "Wow, Pilgrim, you're a lot faster on the uptake than most of these flesh puppets," he made a wide, sweeping gesture with both arms. "I like you," he declared, crossing his fingers and leaning on them. "Pine Tree's right, you're adorable."

"Adora-?" Wirt sputtered. What was anything? Who was Pine Tree? He needed to sit down. Good thing there was a convenient chair right behind him.

"But enough about him and his weird taste in partners. You," whoever leaned closer and got even more comfortable, "have a tragic past related problem, and I'm interested in looking into it for you."

Wirt took a moment to gather his thoughts. It seemed that after the strange interlude, they were back on track.

"You're Bill, then? Dipper said you can help me?" It felt weird talking about Dipper to Dipper's face.

"The one and only! And Pine Tree's right, I can, with a few conditions. How've you been sleeping after coming to Gravity Falls?"

"Oh, I um." Dipper thought he was adorable? "Alright, I guess? No nightmare last night, and that's the first time in..." He hadn't had a good night's sleep since the nightmares started. "I haven't slept well in over a month."

"But your sleep improved after coming here."

Wirt started to answer but it had been more of a statement. Dipper had said that Bill was knowledgeable, but this was ridiculous.

"What kind of demon are you anyway?" In his experience, dealing with demons didn't end well for those directly involved. If Dipper was so nonchalant about a demon possessing him, maybe Wirt had judged him wrong. Maybe he was in a cult.

Bill watched him, yellow eyes going vacant for a moment. The grin eased into more of a confident smirk. "Lucky for you, dreams and the mind are my specialty. And if you're concerned about Pine Tree here," Bill waved a hand towards himself, or rather at Dipper's body. "He's fully on board with all this. I use his body to operate in this realm in exchange for infinite knowledge. It's a fair deal. Not one of my most profitable ones, but," Bill shrugged, the expression on Dipper's face almost fond. "I like the kid, he's fun. Now let me take a look at you."

Suddenly, he was right there, sitting on the desk in front of Wirt, holding Wirt's chin in a firm grip. The hold forced Wirt to look up at Dipper's face. His hands grabbed a knee on either side.

"Let go of me," he hissed.

"Relax, Pilgrim, I just need a tiny peek," Bill said, leaning far too close for comfort. "Also, whatever you do to this body hurts Pine Tree far more than it hurts me."

Wirt halted his plans of head butting him and getting out of there.

"Or rather, it hurts us about the same amount but I'll enjoy it, Pine Tree not so much," Bill continued and narrowed his eye at something he saw in Wirt's. "Oh this is interesting."

"What is?" Wirt tried to pull away. "And what's with you and touching people without permission?" It had been Bill who had grabbed him earlier, he was sure of it now.

Bill grinned. This close Wirt could see every tiny wrinkle that formed around his eyes. "Interacting with physical things is a treat." He chuckled and tapped Wirt on the temple. "It's a mess up here. You should really have it looked at."

That was enough. Wirt made to stand and shove him away.

"Stay still, Pilgrim."

Wirt stayed still. He frowned, flexing his fingers still on Dipper's knees. Bill's eyes held him. He couldn't look away, he couldn't move to leave. Eyes widening, he let out a whimper.

"You're in no danger from me. Pine Tree wouldn't let me hear the end of it if I hurt you. He's kicking up a fuss about not asking permission, already. I don't even want to imagine the shit storm if I did more than scare you. That kid knows some nasty demon repelling seals."

At that, Wirt found his voice, "Sounds like you're speaking from experience." He sounded shaky but at least he was capable of more than distressed noises.

Bill smirked. "Yup! I, heh, slipped up once. Pine Tree made me sleep on the couch, so to speak."

The mixture of intimidating and jovial was confusing. Wirt could deal with one of those, both were too much. He didn't know what to think of Bill. The lines blurred further because the demon was wearing Dipper's face. Dipper had been nothing if not nice to him, and Wirt wanted to like him. Bill was also being nice, according to his own words, in that he hadn't harmed Wirt. Yet. Wirt studied the demon's eyes; there was mischief but no outright malice.

"Aaand we're done!" Bill let go of Wirt and fell on him. Dipper hit his head on Wirt's, recoiling.

"Ow, that asshole," Dipper muttered, rubbing his forehead. Wirt, too, was nursing his head and cursing Bill under his breath. In all honesty, after his encounter with Bill, Wirt was nervous about facing Dipper. Just a moment ago, he had been held captive in those eyes. He hid behind his hand as long as he dared, and when he looked up, Dipper's eyes were brown and concerned.

"Hey, you ok?" Dipper asked. "I know Bill can be," he paused, "intense."

Now that Wirt was no longer touching Dipper/Bill, he didn't know where to put his hands. He settled on placing them on his lap, fingers folded.

"I'm fine, I think?" He wasn't in real physical pain but his thoughts were racing. His head was a mess. "What was that? What did he do?"

Dipper studied his face, searching for something. "I feel like I'm just apologizing all the time." His smile was tight, self-deprecating. "I'm sorry. I didn't have time to warn you properly. It's a sort low-grade possession. He can get in your head, partially, through physical contact. It's pretty easy to fight off if you're expecting it but you obviously weren't so, yeah. Sorry, again."

"A low-grade..." He needed time to think. This was too much, he was in way over his head. Wirt got up fast enough to get a head rush. He steadied himself with a hand on the desk. Getting help might not be worth being possessed. He wasn't sure, thoughts a jumbled mess powered by the fear of the unknown and The Unknown.

Wirt pushed himself away from the desk and out of Dipper's range.

"Are you sure you're fine? Wirt?" Dipper called after him.

"I-I just need to clear my head. So, uh, bye."

"Wirt, wait!"

He didn't stop until he was back in his apartment, the door locked.

The bed looked inviting. Despite sleeping well the night before, he was so tired. His head hurt.

Going through the medicine cabinet proved futile; he had used the last of his aspiring when he arrived in Gravity Falls. He had thought it had been the sun shining into his eyes as he had crossed the town boarder. It had been the worst headache he could remember.

The one he was having now wasn't nearly as bad so he settled for some tea. The pharmacy could wait. He needed peace and quiet. Going out, even just to run a small errand felt overwhelming.

He leaned his head on the warm tea mug, and breathed.

Dipper was right; Bill was intense. At the time he had handled it pretty well, he had been calm for the most part. How much of it had been Bill's influence? What he gathered from Dipper's explanation, Bill had been able to read his thoughts and influence his actions, to an extent.

And that absolute dick hadn't even told Wirt what he had found.

A/N: Thoughts?