Bill had neglected to mention, however, that one tiny detail. One month was the deal. And one month was coming to a close. That one instance that had shaken (Y/N) to her core. That one instance when Bill learned how much of a terrible person this... ex was. That one instance that had sparked the revolutionary conflict between Bill and his emotions; it was going to come again. But more... permanent.

(Y/N) knew nothing of this.

~Your POV~

You let go of Bill and looked him down, seeing the twisted ankle that was beginning to swell. "We need to get you to a hospital," you observed, having him lean on you.

"But... I'm fine," Bill chuckled weakly, wincing again when he put too much pressure on his ankle. "That's really starting to hurt..."

"That's why. Sprained ankles hurt a lot more than a couple of stabs or punches. Come on, we need to get you fixed," you responded, dragging Bill with you as he limped along, trying to stay quiet.

You helped Bill into the truck and reminded him to buckle again. Bill complied without even the slightest of his usual complaining. You sighed, knowing that this had to hurt him immensely for such a quick change in attitude. You wondered why you ever decided to doubt him in the first place. All because of some old guys and people about the same age as you said so? Said that Bill was a bad guy? Bill was so much sweeter than that. He had just proved it too. He loved you, he really did. You could see it in those strange, cat-like eyes of his. You decided from that point on to believe Bill's story of the man called Ford. Bill would never lie, of course.

You began to drive, heading down the mountain to the nearest hospital all the way in Gresham, a long, thirty minute drive away. Bill was becoming less quiet as the pain began to creep in and the adrenaline drained away. You heard him mutter low under his breath, but were barely able to catch any of it, "... I don't understand... I've done worse back when... Why does it hurt so much now...?"

You wondered what Bill meant with "back when," but you decided not to ask him. He was in too much pain anyway. Relating on your previous experiences with that jerk you called a fiancé, you knew it was likely Bill might snap at you due to the amount of pain he was in. Although your fiancé did it even with a minor injury. A small paper cut apparently gave him the right to mentally abuse you, constantly blaming you. "It's your fault this happened! If you hadn't have given me my damn coffee while I was reading my book, I wouldn't have gotten this paper cut!" was one thing he said. According to that man, you couldn't get anything right. In fact, the more you thought about it, the more you realized he wasn't just a cheat, but an abuser as well.

It baffled you how you had managed to stay with him to the point of saying "Yes!" to that cheap, fifty cent ring you eventually ended up seeing at the dollar store. You had heard stories of men not being able to afford a ring and were forced to get a cheap one until they could afford the expensive diamond. But they always told their soon-to-be wives, and the wives accepted it regardless. So it wouldn't have been bad, if the man you were with hadn't insisted it was made of "the finest white gold on the market, with a twenty karat diamond cut so perfectly, that no other ring could match its beauty." Did that man have a way with words or what?

You shook your head of the thought and looked over to Bill again. He was drumming his fingers on the dashboard of the car and biting the bottom of his lip, not used to actual pain. He was holding up rather well, as you remembered the time you broke your arm two years back, just after you had kicked your ex out of the house. You were screaming, lying on the floor, full out sobbing. That was the one instance you wish you had not broke up with your ex. It was never repeated again.

"Just ten more minutes..." you said, more to yourself than Bill.

Bill gave little but a squeak in response and slammed his fist on the dashboard. "CAN YOU GO ANY SLOWER, WOMAN?!" he shrieked, biting his thumb hard as a wave of visible pain rushed through him.

Tears quickly sprang into your eyes, and you had to blink them away. "I-I can't go any f-faster!" you stammered, hearing the sad, whimpering cries of a battered woman in the back of your mind. Memories that you did not want back. You immediately heard your voice go back to the pathetic, weak whisper it once was, "I-I'm sorry..."

Bill looked at you, an angry red face quickly turning to that of clear alarm. You kept your eyes on the road, but it was a strange expression of alarm. He looked almost as if he had let something slip. "No, no, no!" Bill exclaimed, inhaling deeply as another wave of pain surged through him. "I didn't mean it like that! I'm s-"

"No..." you whispered, barely audible above the humming of the heater. "It's fine... you're hurt..."

"(Y/N)! Quill! Sweetie! It's my fault I lashed out! This isn't your fault! None of it is! Don't do this!"

You waited a long time to respond. So long, in fact, that you had pulled into the hospital emergency parking before you even uttered a sound. That was just the sound of a simple grunt as Bill dropped his weight on your shoulder. Bill looked at you worriedly the whole way into the building. Bill was quickly whisked away on a hospital bed the moment the receptionist saw Bill's swollen ankle, and you were left in the waiting room. You sat yourself in the only empty seat of the small room, next to a potted plant and someone seemingly familiar. You looked at them, noticing a blue pine tree hat placed on top of their head as a tuft of hair stuck out to cover their forehead.

Dipper looked at you as well, feeling your eyes on him. He gave you a look, telling you he recognized you, which soon turned to concern as he took a closer look at you. "You're that girl from the restaurant... I don't remember if I ever got your name. Are you okay?" he observed, looking you up and down and focusing on your face.

"I-it's (Y/N)... and... n-not really... I-I guess..." you mumbled in return, avoiding eye contact.

Dipper tried to get into your view, awkwardly twisting in his chair until you finally looked up at him. "Why are you here?" he asked kindly.

You suddenly remembered you weren't supposed to trust one of Ford's "henchmen" but you couldn't help yourself, and you spilled out everything, careful to change Bill's name, "W-Will broke his ankle. He did it when he tumbled down a hill and professed his love for me. He had a beautiful yellow rose with bleeding hearts... but he kind of snapped at me on the way here..."

"Oh boy... all of that emotion, huh?" Dipper said, seemingly unsure of how he should respond.

You nodded. "It's probably all my fault anyway... I shouldn't have pulled over when he told me to... but then he'd probably be mad anyway..."

"Oh no! Don't think like that, (Y/N)! Is Will that guy in the yellow suit?" Dipper asked that last question, it being out of place for what he was saying earlier.

"Y-yeah..."

Dipper wiped a weird expression off his face. "Well... he seemed..." Dipper coughed uncomfortably. "Worried... for you. I'm sure he didn't mean to snap."

You nodded. Then asked, "Why are you here, anyway?" 

"Oh, uh, Mabel ate glitter glue."

"She ate... glitter glue...?"

Dipper chuckled nervously, "Hehe... yeah... She thought it would be a good idea to get the dry glue out of the nozzle by trying to suck it out. Then the whole thing came out of the nozzle an the only place it could go was down."

"Sounds like a nightmare. What was she doing?"

"Trying to make a card. For you, I think."

"For... me? But... why?"

"Well, Mabel has this strange little thing. She just knew we would meet you again. That last time with Will... called you his girlfriend then, actually. Why did he profess his love now?"

Suddenly your face dropped as you realized the holes in your story. "Uh......." you whispered, getting to your feet.

Dipper placed a hand on your shoulder. "(Y/N), please. I know who that guy is. His name is Bill Cipher and he is the worst demon on this planet. Don't trust him... please..."

You stayed silent. You told Bill you were going to trust him no matter what. You were not going to be tricked.

"He's not human... that's not his body. That's someone else's. He probably tricked some poor guy... Whatever story Bill told you about us, it's not true."

You had enough. "Listen, Dipper, that man in the ER right there, is nowhere near what you're describing him as. He's kind, sweet, and smart. He has made me happier than I have been in years. And you are not going to ruin it for me by spilling some crap about how he's a demon! I've dealt with the freaking anti christ of human beings and Bill is not that guy! He asked me to trust him, and I am damn well going to!" you snarled, poking him in the chest.

Dipper was taken aback. He seemed to have no words.

"Now I am not as heartless as I may seem. And I hope Mabel gets better. She seems to be the only human in your little group. Despite how... strange... she is. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to see how my muse is doing because the poor guy's ankle was broken. Good day," you huffed, walking off and leaving Dipper absolutely dumbfounded.

However, you should have trusted Dipper.