#postfinale

The point is, he has no reason to avoid a stupid statue. He also has no reason to go out of his way to walk by a stupid statue. He knows what it looks like. He doesn’t need to see it again. He doesn’t want to see it again. He doesn’t care enough to want to avoid it nor to want to see it again. He’s a very busy man, with only limited time left, if normal human lifespans are anything to go by, and there are still countless undiscovered things to document in Gravity Falls. It’s been almost a year since the last time he had to deal with Bill Cipher’s inane antics, which is more than enough time for his mind to move on to much more interesting and productive pursuits than standing in front of a statue.

Which is why, of course, he’s so vexed by what he’s greeted by in his mindscape night after night after night. No matter what distractions he occupies himself with before bed, no matter how many breathing exercises he completes, no matter how many home remedies for sleeping well and dispelling bad dreams he tries, no matter what combination of magic and modern medicine he takes, no matter how long he manages to stay up without sleeping at all, he always dreams of the same place.

In the dream, he stands in a clearing in the woods. Light filters down through the canopy of trees above him. It’s deathly silent. The usual chittering of wild animals and insects and magical creatures living their little lives throughout the forest is completely absent. It’s like a casket viewing at a funeral.

In front of him is the last remaining form of Bill Cipher in the entire known multiverse: a little statue with an outstretched arm. It’s almost funny. After eons of causing indescribable amounts of grief and destruction across countless dimensions throughout the multiverse, this is all that’s left. A rock on the ground in a dimension that doesn’t even know his name.