To the Nights in the Hold of Stone (BillDip)

Nights in the Hold of Stone Melt into Sun Kissed Mornings

Dipper POV

I know he's got literal magic and all that but I have never had socks this soft before. I'm walking on actual fucking clouds, but they couldn't hold a damn candle to the pj set themselves. Kitten fur soft, I made sure he swore up and down that it's not actually made out of kitten fur. The black shirt and loose blue pants felt amazing after taking a shower, the fabric so incredibly gentle against my still sensitive skin.

I didn't want to look at it, or any of myself, before I showered. This past week mirrors had been a different form of torture I avoided at all cost.

I had taken a much longer shower than I meant to. I stood under the hot water long past the time it started to run clear. Going through the motions of taking a shower while not really taking any of it in, even when the wash cloth I used came away with reddish brown muck, my mind was somewhere else. Still trapped in that little dark room. 

The lights are very bright in this bathroom, so aggressive against white tile I had to close my eyes for a moment. Sweet, safe, quiet darkness flooded through my senses along with the beat of warm water on my shoulders. I don't know how long I stayed like, at some point I'd crouched down on my heels, dropping my head against my knees; just breathing, waiting for something in the dark. When nothing came except for water dripping down my noses and the familiar fuzzy feeling that came with light headedness I had to open my eyes, stand up, and turn the water off.

The mirror was gracefully fogged over, saving me from everything by a pale outline of where I stood. Even still I could see myself, my arms and hands out in front of me, and my chest to feet when I looked down. It was shocking, the pure clear skin. Burns, cuts, and welts that had littered and fought for space before were all gone, not even so much of a scar was left. 

That I'd sort of expected, when I woke up I couldn't feel any of the pain anymore and then Bill explained everything to me so I just assumed all traces of what happened would be gone. But I hadn't been expecting the tattoo to disappear with it. The wretched thing had caused me so much pain and stubbornly stayed in place no matter what Ford did but now it was just gone.

The shirt he'd given me was short sleeved, and I couldn't help but just stare at the blank space. Something was off, not quite wrong but I still had this pit in my stomach because of it.

"What's wrong?" Bill stood just outside of the bathroom door, worry etched in his brow. He was also sporting the softest pjs ever to grace reality, gray loose cut tank top and deep red sweatpants bunched at the ankle. Shockingly barefoot.

"What happened to the tattoo?" I held the bare arm out between us.

Bill's touch was warm, leaving traces of heat up my forearm as he carefully examined the dip of my elbow. "Our deal is broken, even though the tattoo doesn't control the deal, it was controlled by the deal, so when it broke the tattoo went away." Lifting his eyes from my arm he smiled genuinely and searched, "Why? Did you really like it that much? Do you want me to put it back, to mark you as mine?"

Deep blush-inducing comment aside, I pulled my arm back from him with a chuckle, "No I just- it was just a big deal for Ford and now it's gone- I don't really know how to feel about it I guess." Trying to explain the anvil sitting on my chest was strange, but I didn't think I would need to tell him everything, the look on his face told me he didn't need me too.

"We can come back to that later, right now I owe you a nap."

Stepping back he offered his hand to me, when I took it he led me back to the bed I'd woken up in. The sheets and blankets changed and redone, he perched on the end and looked up fondly at me. "Naps aren't my forte, I have to leave the lead up to you."