A Constellation of Stars

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Dipper woke with a groan, taking a moment to remember what he'd allowed Bill to do. What had he been thinking? Allowing that insane demon into his head?! He could have done anything, changed anything! Dipper was pulled out of his thoughts when his great uncle stepped into the room.

"What the hell do you-" He began growling, but was quickly cut off.

"Dipper, it's me, Stan." Dipper just growled in response, anger skyrocketing. The bastard just stood there while he was being fucking tortured! "I know you're mad, but I'm here to get you out of here." As he spoke, Stan approached the still captured Dipper. Pulling out a pocket knife, he began to cut at the ropes, cursing under his breath. Dipper remained silent, shocked at the turn of events. As soon as he was free of his bindings, Dipper shot up, unwilling to trust his luck. Rubbing his wrists, he noted the massive amount of rope burns.

"Why?" He growled, staring at Stanley suspiciously. The older man just sighed, seeming years older than his age.

"Listen kid, I didn't think Ford would take it that far." Another sigh. "I should've stepped in." A heavy silence followed his words, Dipper could almost feel the regret the older man felt. But, much to his surprise, Dipper didn't feel bad. And, considering he'd always been an almost excessively emotional person, Dipper was confused. Was it something Bill had done?

"There is a cabin that I found in the woods," Stan eventually spoke, interrupting his thoughts, "Ford doesn't know about it; it's farther in the forest than he ever went. Go there."

"How do I know this isn't a trap? That Ford isn't waiting there?" Another sigh from Stanley.

"You have no reason to trust me, but Ford's gonna be down soon. Damn insomniac." Dipper began to back towards the front door, never taking his eyes away from the older man. "And Dipper?" Stan said just before Dipper walked out. "I'm sorry."

Dipper scoffed, leaving without a second glance. His mind was focused on his strange feeling towards the man he once trusted; once cared for. Now, though, he couldn't seem to bring himself to care at all. So he walked into the forest, not truly bothering to be too careful. When Ford did sleep, he was like a damned rock.

In a matter of moments after entering the forest's edge, Dipper felt an almost ethereal sense of calm flow through him. He could almost laugh. It seemed that no matter how upset, or downright furious he was, this forest never failed to calm him. He kept walking in the vague direction Stanley spoke of.

"Hey there Pine Tree!" Dipper didn't even startle at the familiar voice.

"What did you do Bill?" He asked flatly, though Bill seemed to take this in stride.

"Just what I said I'd do, kid!" He cackled with glee. Dipper didn't bother repressing the roll of his eyes. He continued walking towards the cabin Stanley had spoken of, ignoring the fact that he was in the Mindscape, so his progress would do nothing in the real world. But that didn't matter at the moment.

An unusual silence fell over the two. Something seemed off to Dipper. Perhaps it was just a gut feeling, or maybe it was how quiet the usually chatty dream demon was. Either way, it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Hey Pine Tree." Bill eventually spoke, voice strangely serious. Dipper turned, a cold sweat having taken over. "Have you ever thought about learning magic?" Dipper blanched at the question. Him learn magic? No way. It was impossible. He was just a normal human being that stumbled into the supernatural... Right? "Kid, you must be joking. Did you already forget about the zombie hoard you summoned? Or the Northwest Mansion? There's a reason that ghost tried so hard to escape, kid."

"Well, that was only because of the journal, and the exorcism failed..." He trailed off, feeling a slight blush coming on. Dipper knew that something felt wrong, he shouldn't feel so comfortable around the dream demon who had tormented him all summer. But, for some reason he couldn't explain, he did feel comfortable. What was wrong with him?

"Sure Pine Tree, that's why when Sixer tried the summoning spell only one half assed zombie came up." Dipper felt his brain stop functioning for several moments. Stanford had tried those spells? And failed? He couldn't fathom it. No matter how much he despised the man that caused the rift between him and Mabel, even Dipper had to admit that his intellect was impressive. So how was it possible that he had failed where Dipper had succeeded? "Pine Tree, have you ever wondered why you have that mark on your forehead? That, kid, represents your affinity with magic."

"What! No, that's not possible! It's just a birthmark." Dipper shouted, not willing to comprehend that what had made him the unfortunate target of many made him even more abnormal than he had initially thought.

"What's so great about being normal?" Bill all but cackled. "You meat sacks have all been wanting to be "normal" for centuries, but it doesn't exist! You made it up!" Bill was laughing almost hysterically now.

"But, then... What about Stanford? He has six fingers, so shouldn't he have an affinity for magic?" Dipper asked when the dream demon had calmed slightly.

"Oh Pine Tree, it's all about rarity. Six fingers are as common as five when it comes to magic. A constellation, though. Now that's rare. You could be powerful, kid."

Dipper froze. Him, Mason "Dipper" Pines, powerful? After everything, every humiliating word, every disappointed look, after every time he had to be saved, he could be powerful?

"What's the catch?" Dipper asked, unwilling to believe that it could be true.

"I'll get to train someone competent." Dipper swore that if Bill had a mouth, he'd be smirking. He paused, would he really agree to train in magic with a psychotic dream demon as the teacher? Dipper made his decision, knowing there would be no going back.

"Bill, teach me magic."

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