Bill watched impassively through the tiny window of Y/N's necklace as Ivan, Dipper, and Mabel prepared for their assault on his home.  Currently, Dipper was sitting impatiently with an oversized metal helmet strapped to his head.  The complex machine was encrypting his thoughts as a measure of protection against Bill.

"What exactly do you think you're doing?" a voice came from behind him.

Bill didn't turn around.  "Wow, you actually left your room.  Did you finally get sick of your whiny brothers?"

"Don't change the subject, Bill," Eins demanded.

"Mind your own business, Eins."

Eins stormed into his field of vision, raising a finger threateningly.  "Bill, those men are going to march in here and kill you.  Why are you just standing here?  Aren't you going to do something?"

"They can't kill me," Bill said dismissively.  "I'm immortal, and besides, it's not like a bunch of dumb humans can just waltz into the Mindscape as they please."

"I'm sure they'll find a way.  You may be ageless, but that doesn't mean you can't be killed," Eins warned.  

"Do I look like I care?" Bill said flatly.

"Damn it, Bill!" Eins shouted.  "It wasn't supposed to end this way!"

"Why not?" Bill asked.  "It seems appropriate to me."

Eins growled in frustration, turning away from Bill and running a hand through his hair.  "Why'd you have to let Y/N go?  She could have been your way out of this mess."

"Who says I deserve a way out of this mess?" Bill scoffed.  "Besides, the curse would only break if she loves me back, which we both know will never happen."

"Loves you back?" Eins asked.  "I thought you just wanted to use her to take over the world?"

"I... might have been exaggerating about those plans."

"I knew it."

"It doesn't matter anymore," Bill sighed.  "It looks like my time is finally up."

"It's not too late," Eins implored.  "You can still fix this."

Bill closed his eye.  "No," he said slowly.  "I can't."

-----------------------

"Holy crap, this is depressing."

"You asked for a story, and this is how I tell them."

"Is it a-at least going to have a happy ending?"

"You'll have to wait and see."

------------------------

"Ouch!" Y/N protested as she was manhandled into a dank cellar by three hooded figures.  With her hands tied behind her back, she had no way of catching herself as she stumbled down the stairs, sprawling on the floor with an undignified half somersault.  Stanford tried to come to her aid, but their captors forced them apart.

Hands grabbed Y/N's arms from behind, yanking her to her feet.  She tried to assess her surroundings, but saw nothing but a nondescript basement.

"What are you going to do with us?" Stanford demanded.

"Don't worry, we won't hurt you," one said in a female voice.  "We're just going to make sure you won't be causing any trouble for us again... or anyone else, for that matter."

From the oversized sleeve of her robe, the woman pulled out a strange-looking gun with a lightbulb attached.

"You first.  Hold her still," she said to the man behind Y/N before pointing the gun squarely at her chest.

"Y/N!  NO!" Stanford yelled desperately.

In the blink of an eye, Y/N threw her head back, headbutting the man behind her squarely in the face.  He shouted in pain, reflexively letting go of Y/N to clutch at his broken nose with both hands.  Y/N dropped into a roll, coming up on her knees and kicking out at the woman holding the gun.  The kick caught the woman in the shin, making her stumble.  A second kick took the woman's legs out from under her and she fell painfully, dropping the gun.

Y/N scrambled to her feet as the third man, who had been guarding Stanford, advanced on her menacingly.  Y/N swung her arms over her head while dipping to scoop the gun off the ground.  Hands still tied together, she aimed the gun at the third man.

"Don't make me find out what this weird-looking gun does," she warned.  The man held his hands up in surrender.

"Don't shoot!  I'll leave peacefully and I'll never bother you again," the man begged.

Y/N lowered the gun slightly, motioning with her head towards the cellar door.  "All right, go."

The man sighed in relief.  The moment he turned around, Y/N shot him in the back.  A blast of light hit the man and he fell to the ground, thrashing like he was having a seizure.  After a moment, he fell still.

"Yeah, right," Y/N muttered.  Then she shot the other two hooded figures for good measure.

"Y/N, honey, that was incredible!" Stanford said in awe.

She shrugged.  "Well, some girls learned to sew..."

Y/N put the gun on the ground so they could untie each other's hands.  Stanford picked it up, examining it closely.

"Fascinating.  Without the tools to study it further, I'd have to say that it may be some sort of memory-erasing device."  He showed Y/N the panel near the handle, which read "EVERYTHING."

"They were going to erase our entire brains?" Y/N rolled her eyes.  "Serves them right."

Stanford glanced down at the unconscious people on the floor.  "Agreed.  Let's get out of here before they wake up."

-----------------------

Standing in the ruined clearing where their house had once been, Y/N and Stanford surveyed the wreckage that had been left behind.

"Did you have to turn our house into a robot?" she asked Ford.  "I mean, I know I mentioned having a mobile home would be interesting, but this isn't quite what I meant."

Stanford barked a laugh.  "Oh, how I missed that biting sarcasm of yours."

"I missed you too, Daddy."  Y/N wrapped her arms around her father and pecked him on the cheek.

"All joking aside, though," Stanford said as he released the hug, "what do you suggest we do now?"

Y/N picked up a length of metal and a hinge.  "Surely we can build something to get us through the forest and up to the Fearamid," she said contemplatively.  "Some sort of... catapult?  I didn't have much luck trying to get down from the place, but between us we should be able to make it work.  We've built more complex machines with less parts before."

"Honey..." Stanford said slowly.  "Are you sure you even want to go after them?  I thought you hated Bill.  Aren't they doing you a favor by getting rid of him?"

Y/N froze.  "I... I do hate Bill..." she said, mostly to herself.  "Don't I?"  

Yes, she thought.  I hate him.  He tried to drive me insane... he's the most obnoxious creature I've ever met...

She chuckled softly.  "And yet, the thought of leaving him to die never once occurred to me."

She shook her head at Stanford.  "It doesn't matter if I hate him.  We can't just let him die.  He doesn't deserve that."

Stanford nodded.  "If that's what you want.  Let's get to work."

In the dim moonlight, Y/N and Ford began collecting and organizing the available parts.  In no time, they had formed the frame for their machine.

"Do you think it'll work?" Y/N asked doubtfully.  "Can this thing really shoot us all the way up there?"

"Well, it's worth a shot," Ford said with a smirk, elbowing Y/N in the ribs.

"Daddy!  Now is not the time for puns!" she scolded with a smile.

"It's always time for puns," he argued.

Smiling to themselves, Y/N and Ford continued to build their catapult.

(A/N: Who's excited for Christmas???  I'm going on a road trip to California tomorrow!!)