We all go down together

Oh, the things one does for the sake of a lover.

Dipper Gleeful stood, flat-faced and bare chested in front of his open armoire, hands resting on both of the polished handles and contemplated contracting some sudden end of the year flu to avoid having to go back downstairs.

But they're waiting for you, dammit.

He turned and pushed a small huff of a laugh out through closed lips to consider his options...on one hand, he could go back down to the library and spend the last night of Hanukkah with his family under their obscenely overdecorated tree, or he could stay here in the hopes that Will would come looking for him and let himself be roped into some alone time beneath the canopies of the youngest Gleeful's four poster bed.

The four poster bed that, he was very quickly reminded, was also obscenely overdecorated.

Tinsel and matte polished ornaments of navy and gold hung in rich clusters wound across the canopy supports, wreaths hung over the fireplace and doors, a menorah that still softly burned, it's light reflected in the mirror atop his dresser, tabletop Christmas trees replacing flower vases and a small sprig of mistletoe, two freckled red berries nestled into the spiked leaves hung above the headboard (personally Dipper's favorite addition, though he would have died several times over rather than say that out loud).

William adored the holidays.

Enough, apparently, to pull such an completely unfair move.

Blocking out any further thought because Dipper Gleeful doesn't pout, he turned back to his wardrobe with an expression of rueful distaste.

The armoire was almost completely emptied, his normal selection of crisply pressed suits and vests, caplets and slacks was simply gone and a quick check in the dresser yielded a similar result.

All empty except for the lone, wool-woven sweater that the resident dream demon, by all appearances, very much wanted him to wear.

He pulled the piece out on its wooden hangar and inspected it with a wince. The large, boxy weave and badly designed graphics clashed against every single fashion sense the man owned, and had that breast pocket been placed on the left side? What did it even say? Was 'challuh' considered a valid holiday greeting?

How do these designs even get approved?

At least it was his favorite color, Dipper noted reaching up with one hand to rub his forehead in conflicted exasperation.

Obviously Will wouldn't have taken such thorough measures to make him wear this if he hadn't *really wanted to see his lover in it.

Will wasn't the kind to trick him, wasn't a conniving creature and they both knew perfectly well if Dipper didn't want to he would be able to find something else to wear despite the obstacle of having all his clothing options go missing.

Dipper cleared his head with a shake and tried to be annoyed at his boyfriend, he really did, but all he could manage was a half-groan, half-chuckle as he made up his mind and pulled on the sweater, already turned in towards the room's cracked open door.

It was surprisingly soft, he noted begrudgingly as he walked down the hallway, lined with some sort of fleece or other fuzzy material, and the collar blissfully loose around his neck.

Mabel would most definitely laugh at him, Dipper decided as he pushed down the handle of the library's carven double doorway, and as he crossed to the dim lit, softly incensed sitting area he was quite sure he heard the lilt of a giggle dancing on the brunette's mouth even before she glanced up. Even Stanford seemed to be staring harder at his book than should have been necessary, but then, Dipper thought, he might just be paranoid and it didn't matter anyway.

Because any semblance of mortification he may have felt completely dissipated the moment his eyes met Will's.

The demon was settled in their favorite armchair, idly flipping through the illustrations in the hardback volume he'd been reading, but turned in the seat eagerly round to greet his lover, eye lighting up as he caught sight of the sweater.

He looked almost elated, the glow of the firelight dancing in ice blue eye, Dipper even thought he heard a little noise of contentment escape the demon as he reached out to let their arms twine together as he sank down besides Will, chuckling as the demon immediately reached out to hug the other's arm and lean into him, mumbling something that sound like a thank you into the navy fabric.

Dipper just sighed, turning his head to press softly smirking lips I to the paste locks, “You didn't have to go so far to get me to do this. You could have just asked.”

Will shook his head, embarrassed,“B-but then you wouldn't’ve wanted to, Pinetree.”

“So you did it to spare my pride.”

“...sort of…”

“How sweet.”

“I-I know.”

Dipper rolled his eyes, pulling his arm out of Will's grasp to wrap it around the demon's shoulders, “You're making this up to me later,” he replied, biting back a grin at the catcall from Mabel's direction and the flush that bloomed in Will's cheeks as the demon buried his face in the Gleeful’s chest again, fingers hooking into the breast pocket as he squeaked out a muffled, ‘okay’.

Will had refused, as soon as he’d grown old enough, to be a part of the Mafia.

He’d known he wasn’t cut out for it, and his family had known too, despite the blood of so many murderers running through his veins the younger of the Cipher twins had never ever claimed to be anything other than peaceable, a quality that wasn’t welcome in the not-so-subtle underworld of the huge city he called home.

At some point it had been decided that Will was untrainable and needed to be removed from the equation, and yet the natural ties of affection that might run through even the bloodiest of families had spared his life, and he’d been given a small business in a nice section of the city and told to make do.

And he did, and not only that but thrived. William loved the little flower shop he headed, doted over each and every aspect of the job with a tender devotedness that he never would have found in the morally questionable life of a mafioso.

Baby’s breath and roses were far less likely to kill him, after all.

Oh, it wasn’t to say he wasn’t touched by the whole organization, nobody in the city and probably elsewhere was, but he’d been lucky enough to witness only one or two of the gruesome things that resulted from the greed of his species, the rumors and names that flew about in hushed tones in side-rooms and speakeasies- names of some who’d died and some who’d killed, and he’d heard, more often than not, the name Cipher listed among the latter two…and in later years, another, the Gleefuls.

He’d heard his brother speak once or twice of the family as they’d risen to power from seemingly nowhere, and it had never been good. Cowards, he’d called them, a bunch of fake-ritzy bluenoses hiding behind silver gilt gates of the east end. Ignoring, of course, the fact that Bill had quite a high social status himself- at least on papers.

Bill tended to exaggerate his stories a little, but his brother had learned to watch out for the name anyway, though he was lucky enough not to run into anyone of the powerful family himself.

It hadn’t ever really been something he’d concerned himself with, though. Will was perfectly content to work his little flower shop, and while he loved seeing his brother, he could never really seem to relax when Bill showed up with his odd looking packages and stacks of sealed papers and talk of underground war, often only needing a place to lay low for a while until he could get back to ‘work’.

And for at least a few days after every visit, he couldn’t help but be a little nervous, watching the street-sides as he walked and carefully scrutinizing the faces of each new customer that opened the shop’s front door to look for any trace of ill-will or worse, recognition. He tried, hard, to be careful.

So it really shouldn’t have come as such a surprise when he finally was confronted– but then, Will was never on his alert this early in the morning, still busy tending the rows of bright, cheery blossoms and humming a little tune to himself as he worked, still a little sleepy from post-wake up haze, and he didn’t turn around immediately when the door opened behind him.

That was a mistake, because if he had he might have had a chance to realize what was going on before there was a gun pointed into his face.

“Good morning! I’m gonna need you to stick 'em up, sweetheart,” He heard the almost sickly sweet voice, turning his head slightly with a soft smile already in place- that froze when he saw the bright silver revolver, and the intimidating bunch who had crowded into his store with frighteningly silent rapidity.

Will let out an ungainly, high pitched squeak in response, stumbling backwards a bit, flinching as he knocked over a pot and it crashed to the floor behind him- to say he was surprised would have been a gross understatement, he was positively petrified.

But the owner of the voice, a finely dressed young lady, only laughed. The weapon in her hand was unwavering as she advanced on him, “Why so startled, darling? You really should have seen this coming, ya know,” She chirped out, “Now do what I said 'less you want some daylight through the skull. Now be a dear and get behind the counter.”

Will was hardly able to hear the order through the rushing in his ears, but he took the cue and did as told, slipping behind the shop’s little service counter and keeping his trembling hands raised a little.

There were five of them, he counted, his assailant and three other obviously armed men in pinstripe and bowlers, and a respectable looking young man who seemed almost out of place in the bunch, though it was made less so by the resemblance and similar navy blue garb he shared with the female ne'er do well. Cyan eyes seemed to follow every move Will made, though nothing else in his appearance would suggest hostility as he simply watched.

The Cipher had other things to worry about at the moment, however, and his eyes snapped back to the woman as she spoke smilingly, at a terrifying ease with one finger tightening against the trigger, “I won’t waste your time. You know what we want. Where is it.”

Will shook his head quickly, besides very much not knowing what she was talking about, he was just beginning to gain his voice back, “What are you doing–!?” He managed, the soft, panicked whisper only to elicit another laugh.

“You really wanna play this game with me, sweetie? Look, I don’t got a lot of patience to go round, so unless you really want me to pull the trigger…”

Will hardly dared move, hardly dared breathe, through his hands were already trembling violently as he tore his gaze away from the glinting metal barrel of the gun, up to its smug looking owner. He shook his head mutely, tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

“That’s what I thought. Now where’s the back door? I think we’ll just take a look around here.”

He felt as if he was going to faint, numb with shock, mind barely processing the question until the girl leaned forwards with a suddenly dangerous expression, “Hey! Patience ain’t my strong suit, mister. I asked you a question.”

Will’s whimper was barely audible, feeling the cold steel muzzle to his forehead and the faint, harsh smell of gunpowder clouding his senses. He just barely remembered not to flinch away and pointed a shaking finger in the direction of his apartment door, sucking in a gasp of relief when the gun was removed from his line of sight.

“Swell,” The young woman purred, giving a few signals, and turning away. “I’ll be back in a few, then!”

Will watched helplessly as she disappeared down the aisle, followed by one or two of the group’s men, but he forced himself to calm at least a little, sucking in a few deep breaths.

He glanced back to the other ones, who had been left to watch him, no doubt. Or more specifically, the gentlemanly one, the woman’s brother, he assumed if appearance was anything to go by. The man was still staring at him.

He couldn’t think too much of that, though, preoccupied with worrying over what might be going on upstairs. Were they going to ruin his cozy little apartment? What did they want, what could he possibly have that they would want??

What if Bill had hidden something here without telling him, Will almost felt sick to wonder? He wouldn’t doubt for a second it was something his hot-blooded twin would pull.

“You would do well to keep your hands where I can see them.”

Will startled at the glint of silver that showed as the man’s caplet parted for a few seconds, realizing he’d let his hands drop to his sides. He raised them again quickly, “S-sorry,” He muttered, noticing immediately the cultured accent to his words, and watching wide eyed as the other moved forwards, until he was stopped by the wooden barrier.

“You can rest them on the counter,” The brunette added flatly, and Will was quick to comply, something in the tone and glint in bright blue eyes telling him it was not a suggestion or a relent.

He was too frightened to speak and so he didn’t, eyes locked with the other’s until he couldn’t bear it anymore and looked away.

“Apologies for my sister- I told her it would be best to take a more subtle approach. You have a nice shop.”

“What?” Will glanced up with a disbelieving look. Had this mafioso just apologized for robbing him? And then given him a compliment??

“You’re welcome. Quite a lovely assortment of flowers, especially for this time of year,” The man continued, gesturing around him with a tiny smile. “What’s your name?”

Will was silent, at a loss for how to respond, brain stuttering from stress and everything he had to process, and he finally managed out, “Ph..philip. Garcia…a-and you are?”

It was what Bill had told him to say, the pseudonym that would keep him safe from getting caught up in the danger of the Mafia- the name he ran his shop under, though he’d ever enjoyed that.

A flash of amusement ran through the other’s features, “Hmm…call me Dipper.”

He let it fall into silence, staring at the shorter male until Will seemed inclined to speak again, “Why are you introducing yourself??”

Will waited for an answer, growing more uneasy the longer he didn’t get one, “Wh-hy are you here? What are you trying to do…you c-can’t get away with this- you won’t.”

Dipper chuckled, “Are you really sure of that? I wouldn’t be, were I you.”

Will gulped slightly, “Th-the police-”

“Are conveniently busy elsewhere and will not be at your disposal for some time,” The criminal interjected smoothly, but through the lighthearted tone, the first signs of hostility showed. “Do you really think they’ll be any help to you at all? You don’t recognize us, then?”

Will swallowed thickly, glancing out the store windows as if searching for help that wasn’t there. “No, why would I…” He muttered quietly, scrambling for words that wouldn’t betray his fear, “B-but others will help me. I-I have friends-”

“Really? That’s quite interesting to hear. Friends in the mafia, no doubt,” Dipper finally glanced away, eyes sweeping over the lovingly arranged displays and briefly to the windows, “Where you you get your stock from, I must wonder? They must have been grown indoors to even be in bloom.”

“I…I-I don’t…” He trailed off, brows knitting together in utter confusion, resisting the urge to reach out and protest as the man took a single sprig of coltsfoot from a larger bouquet, the tiny yellow petals gleaming gold against the silk navy vest, twirling the stem gently between his fingers as he glanced back at the other.

The mirth dropped out of the man’s face and he stepped off to the side as if about to come behind the counter, adding out of the blue, “You’re not used to lying, are you, Mr. Cipher?”

Will blanched, forgetting to try and look brave as he took a tiny step back, “I-I’m not—how-”

“Deduction,” Dipper said simply, “I know what I see and I know what I know. And I know that you look very much like someone I’ve had the displeasure of meeting already.”

Will found he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from cursing aloud- what had Bill done?

“I’m not him,” Will blurted out, “I’m not wh-who you’re looking for…”

“Wrong. You’re exactly who I’m looking for.”

“Wh-what?”

But he had little time to puzzle, jumping as the unnamed girl reappeared, looking, if it were at all possible, even more smug than she had before.

“It was in his bathroom. Quite cleverly hidden, actually,” She grinned, sending a malicious giggle his way as she addressed the other brunet.

And suddenly it seemed to Will that he wasn’t in as much danger, as they appeared to be preparing to leave. A hand gesture had the rest of the men filing out of his door, and he watched, expression still mildly stunned.

Dipper nodded, “Very good- I thought you would be able…” The mafioso’s voice was neutral, even as he lauded his sister, “I’ve spoken with him. He’s a bystander, as I suspected. No need for extra measures.”

“Good. He won’t be a problem, then?”

The woman’s eyes narrowed at the neutral response she gained, and she turned of the other again, filling Will with dread again as she pointed her pistol, “You. Tell the cops if ya want, but don’t you go and be surprised if it doesn’t help. And if anyone else comes asking questions, we didn’t take anything. Understand?”

“Y-yes…” Will nodded quickly, well aware that he wasn’t really in a position to argue, and relaxed a little when she seemed satisfied, turning away to the door.

“Good, cause we’d know either way, bet on it,” The girl chuckled grimly, door creaking as she opened it- but didn’t pass through. She was waiting for Dipper, the man having reached into his trouser pocket.

A small card emerged along with his hand, and Will watched with a cautious curiosity as it was slipped onto the counter.

“Be careful with that. If anyone does come poking around, it would be in both our best interests for you to ring. Trust me.”

No further explanation was given, only the same lingering stare, before Dipper turned away, letting his sister slip her arm into his and pull him out the door without a backwards glance, the two briefly visible in the display windows before they disappeared from sight.

Will was still for a full minute after that, staring after them and glancing around his little store once or twice as if he wanted to make sure everyone was really gone. He pulled in a huge breath of relief and reached for the card, grabbing it and sliding to the floor to calm his frayed nerves.

The back of the card was what he saw first, and it was a telephone address, a single line of numbers written in small, neat hand. He turned it over and let his eyes grow round.

'Gleeful Enterprises’, embossed with silver into the rich blue paper, with the family’s crest stamped into it, off to one side.

Will bit his lip and stood back up, then stumbled out from behind the counter to race upstairs.

He had a horrible feeling that this wasn’t nearly the end of the matter.

But for now, he needed to find Bill.

~~~~~

The twins were silent as they headed back to their car, eyes sharp and on the watch for enemies until they were safely inside, and the vehicle was pulling away from the curb.

“Well, that went absolutely wonderful.”

Mabel was, as usual, the one to strike up conversation as they settled down into the leather-lined cab. Dipper only glanced at her, eyes mostly still fastened onto the shop’s front door until it was far behind them.

“You were marvellous, sister dear,” He praised, with an approving smile as his sister produced a small parcel of letters tied with a string, “Mm-hm,” Mabel grinned triumphantly, handing it over the Gleeful boy, who slipped it into his pocket without looking through it.

“Now I get the rest of the day off- celebrate with me?” Her question was halfway a taunt, because she already knew the answer, and smirked as it was spoken,

“I don’t think I’ll have time,” Dipper’s nose wrinkled at the thought of spending a night in one of the speakeasy’s his sister was fond of attending, “Uncle asked me to take care of an employee who’s been asking questions.”

Mabel gave a light huff, “When do you, gotta ask? You’re telling me you’ll spend the entire night working on that? Pull the trigger and they’re out, problem solved.”

“I’ll have a bit of research to conduct as well. You should know I’ll be setting a few boys on the florist’s place.”

Mabel turned in her seat, regarding her brother with inquisitive skepticism, “Why?”

“Did you think I would have suspected that shop without a reason? Think back to his features and tell me who he reminds you o-”

“Golly,” Mabel breathed, eyes widening for a moment before a smooth smirk slid into her expression, “Now that you mention it…”

“I want to watch him. Closely,” Dipper explained, with an air of industrial indifference.

He didn’t think he would have minded telling her there were other reasons, he’d learned to bear Mabel’s merciless teasing after so long, and she no doubt would have been thrilled to know that she wasn’t the only alone in her legally questionable romantic tendencies…

But he wanted Will to himself for a while, wanted to see what the little florist was made of and what made him special.

“He could be useful to us.”

“I’ll bet. What a patsy,” Mabel snickered a little, “Big brother probably doesn’t tell him a whole lot about the family business, though.”

Dipper hummed, and turned his eyes to the road ahead, sharp eyes flicking over the crowds of people on the street sides, in the cars, bustling in and out of shops or enjoying midday coffee and the editorials- ever alert for the enemy.

“Dipper.”

The voice came from right beside his desk’s chair, and unlike the past few times Dipper had been called he couldn't find any way to ignore it.

He glanced up, a single brow arching as Will set a steaming mug down, carefully pushing aside one or two papers to make room for it.

“Take a break. Y-you need to stretch a little.”

“I’m not thirsty,” The brunette replied flatly, eyes already back on his work and missing the disappointed look that flitted across his lover’s face.

“It’s n...not tea. It’s soup.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Please. Y-you need to go to sleep. You can’t d-do this.”

Will’s voice had reverted back to the soft hesitance of unsurety, but Dipper couldn’t care, didn’t want to make himself care.

Mabel had gone missing.

She’d been missing for almost two days.

Mabel was gone, he should have been more careful, shouldn’t have let her go into the forest alone, should have known, it was his fault she’d--

“I-it’s not your fault-”

Dipper silenced his partner as he threw down his pen and stood up, facing Will with a sharp flash of cyan, “Stay out of my mind, demon.”

Of course he regretted his outburst immediately, jaw clenching at the sight of Will shrinking back a little, at the sight of goodwill eye beginning to water.

“Don’t cry, Will.”

Dipper took one step forwards and Will took one step back, and turned his head away as his lover reached out to hold his shoulders, “I’m sorry. Don’t cry,” Dipper apologized gruffly and Will reached up to grab one of his hands.

“Please go t--to sleep. You’re all out of sorts…”

Of course I am, Dipper wanted to snap out, and he was.

For the past three days he’d been caught up into a flurry, been sending out search parties, joining said search parties, gotten everyone he could think of to be involved somehow, he’d been asking questions and followed every trail of clues he could string together, ever since she’d gone vanished on a simple forest walk.

Dipper would do just short of anything to find his sister and bring her home, he practically had yet only to search the multiverse, he’d go to any extent.

“I don’t care. You know I have to- I have to find her. I need-”

“You’re pushing yourself too hard.”

“I need to find her.”

It wasn’t fair. The mantra repeated itself over and over in his head, it wasn’t fair, he was supposed to be able to live at least one year of his life without something horrible happening, fate wasn’t fair, just for once Dipper would have loved to be able to break down and throw a tantrum, just for once in his life.

But he couldn’t. He had to stay strong, for Mabel’s sake. He had to-

“No, you don’t have to. What you have to do is get some rest so you’ll be able to think again.”

The determination in Will’s tone threw him off guard, but then he was already off guard, and barely had time to protest- much less resist.

Dipper let out a small, surprised grunt as he felt himself grow weightless, barely holding back a shiver at the cold feeling of his soul peeling away from his body. He could only stare in silent confusion for a few seconds while Will- or, Wilson, as Mabel herself had jokingly dubbed them (He hadn’t been too pleased when it had stuck, but that was hardly on his mind) caught himself on the desk’s edge and flexed his fingers slowly, blue eyes glowing a little.

“William!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Put me back--”

“I’m s-sorry,” The demon’s voice sounded odd, splintered when it came from Dipper’s mouth, and he looked sorry, the face melted into miserable desperation and a few fat teardrops as Wilson looked up at the human now trapped in the Mindscape.

He began to gather up the notebooks and papers, carefully using Dipper’s amulet to sort the stacks neatly, and Dipper himself could only watch.

It was a wonder he didn’t lash out then, but the brunette, even through the haze of quiet panic could see how utterly exhausted his own body looked. Mussed hair and dark bruises under his eyes, he’d even shoved a button in his shirt through the wrong hole...Dipper only vaguely remembered getting dressed, come to think of it.

At least the body moved with at least a bit more grace than the first time he’d been forcefully inhabited.

“What are you doing?” Was all Dipper could manage without raising his voice, floating back down to the floor to try and grab Wilson’s wrist though he knew full well it wouldn’t work.

The demon flinched back anyway, holding the pile of research and investigations in his arms.

“I’m taking all this unt-til you go to sleep. I’ve seen humans g-get hurt like this, I’m not letting that happen t-to you.”

“I need to-”

“I’ll keep looking for her, while you sleep.”

Dipper didn’t want anyone else to look for him, he wanted to look himself, he needed to find her.

“You can’t fall asleep in my body. You’ll be ejected.”

His lip curled in helpless frustration as the pile of research disappeared altogether, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get it back until Will gave it to him.

“I know, that’s why I need you t-to work with me. You’re going to go to bed, and th-then...when you wake up, you’ll eat something. And take a shower.”

“Get out!” Dipper grit his teeth and made as if he was standing on the carpet, eye to eye with the possessed vessel, and glaring as his form sniffled quietly.

“Please cooperate,” Was the last thing Wilson said before the demon let himself be repulsed, giving Dipper barely enough time to reclaim his body.

All the same he crumbled to his knees, wincing a little as the thump echoed even through the plush floor. Dipper pushed himself quickly to his feet, gripping the back of his chair as he faced Will, whose own vessel had flickered back into existence in the very same moment.

“Don’t be mad at me. I’m trying to help you.” The dream demon practically whimpered it out, breath stuttering in his throat.

Dipper stood staring at the floor, for several long seconds until he realized Will was starting to cry harder.

He was crumbling, and so, finally, was the Gleeful’s resolve. Dipper reached out slowly. “Cipher….c’mon, Will...”

“Trust me, please. It will be okay,” Will murmured earnestly. Two steps closed the gap between them, two hands found their way to the male twin’s chest, pushing gently-

“I’ll take care of it. Just-”

He broke off to sniffle a little, “Just trust me.”

And Dipper relented, allowing himself to be lead over to his bed, and they sat down together. He felt his eyes beginning to burn, and shook his head stubbornly, “How am I supposed to fall asleep. Something could happen to her while I’m asleep.”

“It’ll be okay. I’ll find her. She’ll be okay.”

Dipper pressed a hand to his mouth, feeling Will’s cool fingers curl round his neck, his cool words settle as a soothing balm as he laid back.

“I won’t be able to sleep.”

“I can make you, you know that.”

“You could have just sent me to sleep this whole time, then.”

“But you didn’t want me to.”

It somehow only made his chest hurt more, filled with worry for a sister and love to a partner who wouldn’t even betray him for his own good.

But he nodded once, silent permission. He for once let go, and let Will take care of him, a soft sigh pushing past chapped lips before they were pressed against the demon’s.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

He slid off his shoes and helped pull the covers over him.

“I und-derstand. I love you…”

“Love you,” and his world slowly faded to black, filled with a mercifully dreamless sleep.

Will stood, head tilted to the side as he watched Dipper fade into unconsciousness. It never ceased to amaze him how full of love a human could be if only treated right…

He could have stayed there for hours, but he turned away soon after, wiping away his tears on the back of his sleeves.

Will loved the twin’s shows.

Which could have seemed a little odd, if one were to compare the demon’s aura to that of the buzz of stage life, but as quiet and old-fashioned as he could be, he'd always loved them. The dazzle of bright lights against velvet like tent walls and the high, sweeping ceilings that lead into an abyss of darkness where the spotlights never shone, the murmur of a crowd that quieted as performers appeared on stage and frightened gasping as the impossible was made not so impossible before their eyes.

Fear that inevitably and without fail melted away into awestruck fascination. He loved how the airs and vanities of superficial excitement wore away into something more genuine, infectious as the show progressed.

And he loved watching them, he'd always loved watching humans, it had once been his folly, but it had all lead up to this, and Will’s human vessel seemed to want to burst with joy.

The spotlights were almost blinding, the cheering almost deafening, the sea of faces a blur and his smile felt like it would split his face. His hand was warm a little clammy from the heat inside the tent, and from holding so tightly to Dipper’s, but hold he did, he squeezed the human’s hand in his own and let the ecstasy consume him as Mabel, on the other side of her brother, spoke a final few words to the crowds, the final words of the final show for that week.

And then, with a plume of jasmine incensed smoke, a silent command from the Gleeful boy, and the show was over and Will was clinging to his lover’s arm as they made the short trip backstage to the dressing rooms, with a giddy sort of giggle.

“I think that was th-the biggest turnout this week, wasn’t it?”

Will’s stutter was practically non-existent in his elation rosy flush to pale cheeks that accented the breathless laughter, and Dipper nodded, “Mhm. Bet it’s because of you; you're becoming popular.”

The immortal could only flush deeper at this, a pleased hum escaping, though his shoulders hunched in embarrassment, “Y-you think so? I didn’t think they’d…”

He trailed off, with a slight shrug, prompting Dipper to laugh, a silvery chuckle that, in Will’s opinion, looked stunning on his human.

“Of course. My only regret is having to share you with so many people.”

The demon bit his lip to restrain another laugh, then let it out, leaning his head on Dipper’s shoulder as the teen straightened himself out, “Well, now you know how I always felt,” He murmured softly, making Dipper raise an eyebrow, “Touche,” Dipper remarked, turning his head to give a half-instinctive, half apologetic kiss to Will’s forehead, gloved appendage still wrapped snugly round the demon’s own.

“But you’ll have me all to yourself in a bit, love,” Dipper promised, “Only one thing left to take care of...”

He sighed, “Y-yes...you’ll stay with me?”

“Promise.”

Fan greetings had, without a doubt always been the least favorite part of show business for the twins, and Will had once too had misgivings back when all he could do was watch from behind closed curtains as strangers threw themselves all over his mortal, when he could only wait in the shadows with baited breath and wringing hands until the autographs had all been signed and pictures all been taken.

But it had grown better, a little more bearable now he was allowed to stand with them, to hold his constellation's hands and warn those who might get too close away, with sweet smiles and well-placed civilities.

As for those who asked questions about the charming couple, those who stared too long- especially in Will’s direction- well, Dipper was always there for that, and always would be. He’d promised.

The fan meeting was over in the blink of an eye, a perfect flurry of names and pleasantries, and Will watched them all with a child’s curiosity and an immortal’s solemnity, the faces being stored away in his memory for later ruminations. The lights of the tent faded as the sun's rays did over the forest, and they could finally head home, towards the demon's favorite part of each week.

As the gates to the Gleeful manor shut behind them, he could see Dipper's shoulders relax, and the last traces of faux happiness slip away, replaced by measured contentment that grew as his demon slipped an arm around Dipper's waist.

They were, all three of them, lost in thought and comfortably muted, save for a quiet embrace and word of farewell between the siblings as they made it inside and Mabel headed off to sleep.

And then a few final tasks and they could finally lay down together, Dipper pushing aside the covers and letting out a deep sigh as his lover settled down beside him.

He was already tired, Will didn’t even need to notice to know, so he was silent, letting the hazy contentment settle about them as a mantle, a mixture of movement and touch until they were both comfortable.

“Dipper?”

Will nuzzled into his human’s neck with a few, hazy kisses, feeling them returned without hesitation.

“Mmm.”

His eyepatch was gone, resting on the nightstand and the periwinkle glow of clairvoyance matched the dim light from Dipper’s amulet, loosely fastened on a short chain round his neck even before slumber,

“I w-wish you could feel how much I love you. I wish you could feel-”

“I do know.”

He pressed turned his head slightly, pressing the bridge of his nose to the lilting vibration of Dipper’s voice,

“You show me every day. You give it all, and I feel it, and give it back to you.

Nighttime, to the mind of the youngest in the Gleeful family, was probably the most dangerous stretches for the demon to leave the confines of their room.

“Oh, love,” Dipper murmured under his breath, a sigh passing downturned lips as the only way he could release a fraction of the fury burning in his eyes, but of course Will couldn’t hear him.

The demon was heaving, gasping weakly, fighting for breath around the spasms of pain as his body continued to discharge a sickeningly copious amounts blood onto the usually spotless hardwood floors of the dim lit corridor.

It was disgusting, Dipper thought, and he only half meant the blood. Hate bubbled in his chest, towards the man who seemed to think he had as much claim over the demon now as he had so many years ago.

“You’re alright,” Dipper tried, tilting his head downwards to stare at his demon, but the only response Will gave was to turn his head a little more into the human’s chest, eye clenched as tightly shut as when Dipper had found him curled up in the hallway outside the mahogany double doors of Stanford’s office.

Oh, it hadn’t hurt to see that. Dipper couldn’t say he felt anything for the sight of red staining his lover’s body, the sight of blood he’d long since grown numb to, it was the way Will had flinched away at the softest touch, and how he'd been trying around the tears and through vampire's wine running from his mouth to apologize and the desperate look in his eye when he'd realized who it was and reached out for his human that made Dipper so

Angry.

And now his brows knit together, in the silent symphony that plays only in the eyes of the repressed,

“You'll be okay, Will. Sshh-- hush, it's all over.”

How he wished he could say this was new, but it was not.

It was a constant and painful reminder of just whose house they lived in, whose rule they were subject to as long as Stanford was alive and Dipper hated the very thought of it with every fiber of his being that wasn't too busy loving Will to care.

Blue hair matted with streaks of ugly reddish brown, the demon's left eye bleeding all over again. He'd gone limp in Dipper's arms save for a hitching breath and the head that was still pressing itself into the crook of his arm, the fatigue of terror taking it's toll already on Will's human vessel.

“Will, don't fall asleep. Listen to me. Stay with me, just a little bit longer, you're alright.”

With malicious thoughts and whispered comfort, Dipper found the trip through the winding maze of hallways over faster that he'd remembered, and he stepped into his room, ignoring a slight bit of a sneer as hardwood turned to carpet and began to soak up dripping burgundy.

He stepped into his bathroom, and set Will down on the counter, reaching--

Will refused to let go of him.

Dipper's throat seized up slightly as his lover let out a quiet whimper, his hands shaking as they lifted, faintly stained by careless wrath, and hooked themselves into the foldss of his cape. Will wouldn't let go of him, and so Dipper couldn't let go either.

He fumbled with the door, closing it with his foot behind him and sliding to the ground against it.

Dipper took a few, deep breaths to keep himself composed, then let out a soft growl.

Dignity could wait a while.

He maneuvered himself to sit cross-legged, sitting Will in his lap and letting the slightest amount of blue energy surround the two of them to make it easier, having to ignore the fact that Will only shuddered at the use of magic.

“It's okay. You're okay. It's only me,” he cooed into Will's ear, letting out a quiet breath as the fingers tightened into the creases of his clothing.

Dipper scooted across the floor to the cabinet under the sink, letting go with one arm to swing the door open and take out a first aid kit.

He was using one hand and a concentration of his powers, moving slowly and steadily, so as not to jostle broken skin and contusions, bleeding lacerations and bruised on bouquets of harebell and amaranthus.

He could heal most of it with his magic, but he needed to make sure the wounds were clean before he closed the skin over them.

Will whispered something into the fabric of his cloak, and turned his face to the side, cringing away from the rancid odor of peroxide.

“It’s alright. It’ll only sting for a little. You’ll feel better soon.”

He had to be firm, had to be calm, had to push Will back so he could assess the abuse and begin to help, letting his forehead press against his asterism.

It could have been better, it could have been worse.

That was all Dipper allowed himself to make of the matter before he set about his task, chanting out a soothing rhythm of assurance and apology, his shoulders and jawline tense until the pain ebbed out of Will’s expression, as relief in the form of cyan magic worked its way into the blue haired figure.

“I jus-st wa-anted some books,” Will sniffled softly, leaning a his head into the offered hand.

Dipper didn’t know what he was talking about, but he didn’t need to. “You weren’t doing anything wrong.”

“I wanted...s-some books fo-or us to read, toge...together,” Will’s lower lip began to quiver again, and his lover quickly swiped a thumb across his cheek, “B-but he was in the library, and, a-and-”

“It’s going to be okay, shh-”

“I don’t want this.”

“I promise it will change,” Dipper vowed quietly, rubbing circles into a tearstained cheek, “One day I’ll free you, one day we’ll be able to leave, or...”

Will nodded slowly and leaned forwards to cling to the other, to cling to his hope. He didn’t want to answer.