Hi all. Sorry, it's been a while, I know. Summers are tough. Please see notes at the end of this chapter for an important piece of info regarding this fic.

The Bedfellow Stranger

"Good night, Bill! Good night, Dip-Dop!"

"Good night, Mabes. Night, Bill."

... ...

"Um, am I supposed to say something now?" Bill asked, hesitantly. He wasn't quite sure of himself, but thought that since the twins had both said that, maybe he was to do the same, and that if he didn't, he would be violating some highly important bed time ritual.

A girly giggle came from his left; Mabel's side of the room. "Naw, you don't have to. It's just something we tell each other when we're ready to go to sleep."

"Oh. Ok, then. Good night, Star! Good night, Pine Tree."

Bill snuggled down into his makeshift bed that was made up on the floor between the twins. It amounted to more of a pile of blankets layered atop one another; hardly a decent bed at all. Mabel was sure to fret about it for at least the duration of time she was still awake, until the blissful ignorance of sleep carried her thoughts away to the land of boy bands and brightly colored everything.

The newly human demon was none the worse for wear, however, and was quite happy with this arrangement. Shooting Star was to his left, and Pine Tree to his right. All was right with his world. He closed his eyes, pulled in a deep breath, and waited for sleep to take him.

Except, it didn't. Or wouldn't. He could not, for the life of him, figure out why his mind failed to enter the unconsciousness it must have found the previous night when he had closed his eyes and opened them to find that there had been a significant passage of time. That was not happening now. This time, when he opened his eyes, no time seemed to have passed at all, let alone the few seconds that actually had.

Heh...time. It's a funny thing. Necessary and yet totally unreliable. One would almost think a big baby were in charge of it.

He laid there with his thoughts for a little while, his mind mostly wandering to the memories he had. There were so many holes; things he couldn't see. Things that maybe he didn't want to see. So many questions that he wanted answers to, but at the same time, didn't.

Suddenly, he felt his whole body shudder, startled by a sudden awareness. Of what, he wasn't sure. His eyes opened at the same time. Had he been asleep? When did that happen? And why does it feel like there's-

Bill froze. A pair of shiny black orbs gleaned a short distance away from him. White slits glowed from their centers. As per usual with any human body, adrenaline and other such chemicals began to pump through the veins now running in overdrive as his heart worked overtime in reaction to the nervous system's message of fear that was so clearly relayed to his brain. Though, he tried to reason to himself that this particular situation really didn't warrant fear, at the moment. He hadn't seen these eyes before, so there was no reason to be afraid of them. He wasn't being physically harmed by their presence, so again, no need to be fearful.

As these thoughts began to slow the human instinct's fight or flight processes, Bill began to relax once again. He blinked a few times, wondering if the eyes above him were just his imagination. After the final blink, they were, indeed, gone. Before he had time to suck in a sigh of relief, however, he suddenly found himself surrounded by blue flames.

He sat up in panic, watching as the circle around him came closer, igniting his blankets and even super-heating the floor boards beneath him. It was like someone had turned on the comforting warmth of heated floor tiles to greet their bare feet on a cold winter's morning...only this was far from comforting.

It was hot. Uncomfortably hot. Too hot!

"PINE TREE!" he instinctively called out for whom he felt would comfort him most. Pine Tree would help him. He wouldn't let the fire consume him.

In the next moment, before the heat became too intense, before it actually could lick at his exposed flesh, Bill woke up. He shot straight up, taking in sharp breaths and looking around the room, eyes wide. Beads of sweat had built up on his skin, moistening his night clothes, and even the blankets around him. Though his surface temperature was quite warm, he found that he was actually very cold and began shaking. Blankets were quickly snatched and he wrapped them around himself tightly, but they did nothing to quell the inner cold he felt.

Dim, silvery moonlight was illuminating the room enough for him to see that both twins were sound asleep in their beds, unaware of the traumatized Bill Cipher on the floor. He would have to change that. At least for one of them. And he knew just which twin he would choose to share his trauma with.

Dipper was asleep on the outside edge of his bed, one leg practically dangling off the side. He usually slept on his right side, but had managed to fall asleep on his left this night, most likely a subconscious effort to keep his eyes pointed in Bill's direction, should anything strange happen in the night. He was a light sleeper, after all. He would hear anything; wake up at the slightest of movement coming from the floor.

Yeah, keep tellin' yourself that, Dip.

Bill regarded the sleeping form of the brunet as he stood at the foot of the bed before climbing in under the covers and lying down, back against the wall. He was still shivering slightly; still felt the cold like its source was deep within his bones. He decided to inch closer...closer, until he was able to nuzzle into soft brown curls. His right arm reached over and pulled the sleeping form even closer. Finally, warmth he could feel.

Mocha eyes shot open at the realization that there was a body next to his...in his bed...under his covers...touching him. He relaxed, though, as he realized that a certain someone must have had a bad dream again and had crawled into bed with him. It hadn't happened for a while, more so when they were kids, but still did on occasion. Heavy eyelids fell shut again.

"Mm-d'ja have a bad dream 'gain?" Dipper mumbled through groggy sleepiness. He grabbed hold of the hand attached to the arm wrapped around him. "E're gettin' kinda ol' fer this, doncha think?" He patted the hand, then rubbed small circles on it. "Hm...ya gots really sof skin, Mabes...whatcha usin'-"

"Thanks, Pine Tree," Bill quietly whispered back. "Now, are ya done talkin'? Cuz I'd like to sleep now." He yawned as his own heavy eyelids slid shut.

oh...

My...

GAWD!

Dipper was now wide awake.

"Bill! What the ever-lovin' Fuck are you doing?!" he whisper-shouted as he sat up and turned to the blond guy in his bed. Bill barely moved a muscle, eyes still closed.

"Language, Pine Tree," Bill whispered back as he smiled at the memory of Shooting Star scolding her brother earlier for use of that same word.

"Wha- language? Seriously?! You. Are in. MY BED!" the frustrated brunet groaned, trying not to wake his sister, who, thank all the gods, was still fast asleep on the other side of the room. He did NOT need this little state of affairs memorialized for all eternity on the internet.

Seeing that Bill made no move to vacate his current place of slumber, Dipper grabbed his pillow and whacked him in the head with it. That pointed gesture of disapproval quickly backfired, however, when the recipient of the action reached out and swiftly tucked the soft item under his own head.

"Thanks, Pine Tree. This is much better."

"No! I wasn't... Bill!" the brunet huffed. He then decided he should probably just calm down (because he was just getting all flustered over having been rudely woken up, not at all because there was a cute blond guy currently sharing his bed) and so took a deep breath before continuing. "Ok- just...what happened? Why aren't you in your own bed?"

Bill suddenly looked up at Dipper, deep blue eyes sullen and almost fearful. "I think I had a night- nightmare. Someone, or something, wa- was watching me. And I was cold- so, so cold. A-and you... You made me feel safe- and warm."

Dipper's first reaction upon hearing these somber words from Bill Cipher was that of pity. He couldn't help but feel bad for the guy. The guy. Huh, more like the dream demon from whom all nightmares originate. I can't believe I'm actually feeling bad for him...

"Well, you can't stay here, Bill. You need to go back to your own bed."

"But why? I want to stay here where it's safe and warm," Bill whined.

Dipper could feel a tension headache coming on. "Because, Bill. This is my bed, and you can't just sleep in it with me. It was just a dream, it can't hurt you, and you'll be perfectly safe." The brunet was trying to sufficiently argue his point, but had a bad feeling he wouldn't be getting through to the overgrown adolescent next to him.

"Pine Tree...please...please don't make me go back by myself," Bill murmured, looking up at Dipper with sincere fear in his eyes.

Ah, hell...he's freaking begging! I would be one heartless bastard if I made him leave. It's just one night, I'm not even going to argue...cuz that'll lead to Mabel waking up and... ain't nobody got time for that right now! Dipper sighed loudly. "Fine. You can stay the rest of tonight. And ONLY tonight, got it? We are NOT making a habit of this. And give me my pillow back."

He rolled off the side of the bed, snatched up Bill's pillow from off the floor, and threw it at his side of the bed. Holy crap, I did not just think of that as his side of the bed! It's ALL my side! He slid back under the covers and tried not to think about what he was doing, not that his mind would cooperate. Just one night...it's only one time, and we're only sleeping...it's just sleeping.

He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, mind wandering to places he would never openly admit to, when he suddenly felt the other scoot up next to him. His body tensed up, not unlike a prey animal that just realized it was being hunted would, at what he deemed to be a horribly invasive motion.

But the blond lay innocently on his side, staring at the brunet with a look that Dipper couldn't quite read. Was it appreciation? Relief? Adoration? No. Bill Cipher was not looking at him with adoration...was he? Again, Dipper let out a sigh, turning ever-so-slightly in the other's direction, but not so much as to be directly face to face. This action caused the blond's features to once again fall into that which could only be represented by a harshly admonished puppy.

"What is it, Bill?" Dipper questioned softly, his rigid form somewhat relaxing after telling himself for the umpteenth time that day to relax, because this was a childishly naïve Bill Cipher, not the demonic, one-eyed, three-sided geometric shape of terror he used to be.

Bill hesitated before finally responding with a sheepish, "A-are you mad at me, Pine Tree?"

"Why would I be mad, Bill?" the teen replied casually, all the while trying really hard to not think of every reason he did have for being mad at the ex-dream demon from several years ago.

"Well, you did make it very clear that you like your personal space, and you are kind of upset that I am this close to you now, but I can't help it because you are helping me to feel secure and warm and I know it's bothering you but-"

"Ok! Ok!" the brunet cut in before the other could say any more. "I'm not mad, Bill. Uncomfortable? Yes, a little. Ok, a lot. But not mad. Again, you haven't done anything wrong, and I'm just being a little over-dramatic about everything. I know you are new to this human thing and all the emotions that go along with it and you're probably just scared right now, but you'll get used to it eventually and will learn how to deal with it on your own. So then, just relax now and go to sleep, ok? There will be plenty of time to talk about this more tomorrow..." He trailed off as he suddenly became very aware that there had been no reaction from the other for several moments.

Now that he had stopped whispering, the sound of soft, slow, steady breathing floated over to him, affirming the realization he had just come to: Bill was asleep.

Mabel Pines had the scrapbookatunity of a lifetime lying, quite literally, in front of her, and there was absolutely no way in hell she would pass this one up. Maybe, if she played her cards right, and she pretty much always did, she would end up on the receiving end of a few little favors à la Dipper Pines, and certainly not because she planned on using his currently scandalous position in bed beside one Bill Cipher against him as the several dozen clicks of her camera phone now insured she would have plenty of ammunition to do just that. Pffft...blackmail? I would never!

She silently snuck out of the room and down the stairs to admire her new found wealth via the many pictures she had just taken in private. First things first, though- copies. Sooo many copies!

The younger Pines twin awoke to find he had unwittingly taken the role of the "little spoon" with his involuntarily acquired bedmate. Bill was pushed snug up against him from behind, face buried nose-deep in a tangled mess of russet curls, one long arm wrapped around his waist and bent at the elbow to allow a hand to grip the top of his t-shirt in a choke-hold of sorts, as if its owner feared the body inside said shirt would try to get away.

"Uh...Bill?" he tried, figuring he could talk the other out of his rigid hold on him. Nary a response was to be had from the blond. Dipper tried to pull the hand from his shirt. He was met with the opposite effect. The grip only tightened. "Bill!" he whisper-shouted, hoping he hadn't woken his sister.

A half-assed muffled "Mm..." was all he got in response this time, but at least he was getting somewhere.

"Bill, you really need to let go of my shirt, and then MOVE OVER," Dipper tried to demand, but it came out sounding more like a desperate plea.

In his mind, he truly was begging for this situation to be over, like, yesterday. He reasoned that if there was no positive compliance from Bill, and very soon, he would have to resort to remedying his uncomfortable position by any means possible, even if that meant having to slip out of his own shirt in order to get away.

Dipper didn't even want to begin to think about what Mabel would do with this little scenario. His peripheral sight had caught the semblance of a sleeping form still inhabiting the bed on the other side of the room. He thought optimistic enough of this to not actually go out of his way to directly verify it, something that, in hindsight, he would very much regret.

After some struggle with strong-gripped fingers, and a few whispered curses, the brunet finally won his freedom. As he rose from the bed and was about to check on his sister's ultimate sleep status, a few pouty whines emanated from the remaining denizen of his bed signaling their dissatisfaction at the sudden loss. Unfortunately, it was just enough of a (~Aw, cute! was what he actually thought) distraction that Dipper forgot all about his twin, choosing instead to revel in the fact that another living, breathing life form would react in such a way to his absence.

"Come on, Bill, you should get up, too. I'll make us all something special for breakfast." He turned and opened the bedroom door adding, "I make the best-", but immediately cut himself off as the wafting scent of baked goods invaded his nostrils on the uptake of a new breath. "Shit!"

Bill blinked a few times and sat up rather hastily at this strange remark. "You make the best...shit? But I thought that was the derogatory word people used for-" He was suddenly cut off by a rather distressed, and almost equally disgusted, Dipper.

"No! That's not what I meant- UGH! This means that..." He looked over at his sister's side of the room, only to see that the form he thought he saw earlier was merely her blankets bunched up and half way over her pillow, making it appear like she was still there, but in reality, not. Kill me now. The poor teen face palmed at the realization that his sister had, indeed, awoken before him; the action quickly followed up by a rapid increase in his pulse, and beads of sweat suddenly forming on his brow.

"Oooh, your face looks hot again," the blond observed from the bed.

"Shut up, Bill."

Dipper turned back again to exit his room and began to plod down the hall, down the stairs, as a death row inmate walking towards his imminent termination. His own, personal fate, he imagined, would be much, much worse than any form of execution method ever used, either presently or long ago.

So, I've decided to stop updating this fic on this site. This is the last chapter I'll update here. It will be on AO3 from now on. Search by title and fandom.