(A/N: This oneshot is dark. It does contain a bit of violence. You also may cry. Have tissues at hand READER'S DISCRETION IS STRONGLY ADVISED.)

(A/N: This oneshot does talk about my OC but does not exactly revolve around her. It is Bill x OC-ish though so, if you do not like that stuff, either read it with your OC in place of mine, your name, or not at all. Thank you.)

(The song is called "Fade Away" by MandoPony. This will be explained and played later in the story. However, feel free to listen while you read.)

Weirdmageddon was over. The Pines and their friends had won! Well, most of them anyways. Molly, fighting against her animalistic urges and remembering who and what she was, decided to fight back against the demon tyrant. He was just using her and she had no more remorse for him.

As her wolf-like properties began to revert back to their nonexistent state, she used her claws and teeth to attack Bill. In turn, the demon turned his hand into a claw and swiped at Molly, sending her flying backwards with three deep, bleeding gashes in her stomach. However, this was not going to be how it ended. The slowly reverting human stood up shakily on all fours and charged at the sentient pyramid when his back was turned, climbing up him and leaning over to blind the terrifying monster. He grabbed at the open air, furiously trying desperately to grasp the other in a death hold. Eventually, after a bit of wall and ceiling climbing, she fell right into his hand, the transformation being completed.

"Any last words?"

Molly looked back and smirked. "Yeah. Bubye."

Bill's eye widened as a pink light shone apon him, his form shrinking and dropping into an empty, magic-proof jar, courtesy of Stanford Pines. Dipper shut the lid proudly and the pines agreed that Bill had a bit more to learn about humans before she blacked out later to wake up in a hospital, out of town.

Bill's jar was next to her. He was unsurprisingly unamused, his stick-like, black arms crossed. He told her that he hoped she'd die before the nurse calmed her down and let her sleep.

The demon looked at her and thought about what she had done to him. Blinding him and attacking him with his own powers? What was this girl thinking? Then, his mind wandered back to when she was quote-on-quote "reforming" him. She seemed so happy and, somehow, seeing her smile kind-of made him want to join her, the opposite reaction of what he would usually want to do. He would talk to her in the morning and see if he could make amends.

She wouldn't be breathing come morning.

When dawn approached, he awoke in Dipper's hands (still in the jar, of course). The thirteen-year-old had his arm around his weeping sister and seemed to be holding back tears.

"What happened?" The demon thought. "Why is Shooting Star-"

"She died in her sleep," the nurse interrupted his train of thought. "Internal bleeding was the cause. I am terribly sorry, Mister Pines."

She looked as though she actually meant the apology. Usually nurses just said it with little to no emotion but this one seemed to mean it.

His single eye widened as he trained it on the nurse.

"She actually-? I didn't mean-! I just thought-!" He couldn't think straight.

Ford placed the contained demon in his study on his desk. He said that even though he had already studied him enough, it might be worthwhile to do it all again.

He would be staying there for a while. In this time, he thought.

Pondering. Wondering. Thinking. Reminiscing. Realizing. Slumping. Crying. Breathing.

The day of the funeral came and Mabel came down to pick up some flowers that Ford had modified. They were beautiful. Green stems with rippling, rainbow colored petals. As she passed him a second time, she noticed a stray tear dripping down from his eye.

She looked at him. He gazed back, silently. She held up the flowers. He raised an eyebrow in understanding.

Mabel made her way over to Bill's jar and unscrewed the lid. She placed it carefully beside it and waited for Bill to make the next move. He floated off of the bottom of the jar and made it to the rim, slowly sticking his arm out and gingerly touching one of the petals of one of the flowers.

Mabel watched in awe as a slow wave of golden color washed over the petals from his finger. It changed to black a couple of times before completely reverting at the stem. When he pulled away, his wheel with all of the symbols and him included was engraved on the now golden and black flower.

She slowly pulled the bouquet away as he settled back to the bottom of his jar. Then, she fit the lid back on, tightly before anybody could notice.

When the flowers were planted, the Pines were surprised to find that the single miss-matched flower was playing a soft melody. Ford questioned it but, stopped when Mabel told him that Bill was finally reformed.

The song stopped when the sun went down.

Bill was done. He understood what he needed to do and was prepared to pursue his destiny.

He rolled his jar off of the desk and it shattered onto the floor. He was free. Free to do whatever his heart desired.

The next morning, Ford, Mabel, and Dipper stepped through the elevator doors to find Bill gone and a small blood trail leading to underneath another desk in the room. Their eyes widened as they walked briskly over to the eldest Pines's slightly ransacked desk to inspect the shards of broken glass before it. A note was apon the table as well as a jar with a floating ball of cyan light encased within it.

"Stanford, Pine Tree, and Shooting Star.

By now you're probably wondering what must have occurred. In the time that I've been down here, I have thought about many things. Did I actually succeed in liberating your world or was it all just some sick fabrication of my unstable mind? Why do I trick innocents into doing wrongful deeds? What would the hero do? Pondering about it, I found my answer. The knight in shining armor would eventually destroy the evil that took his happiness away. This is what I did. I removed my powers from my body and placed them in the jar you see here. Without them, I couldn't live for long. So, by finishing myself off, I was just speeding up the inevitable. I have hidden myself so that if, by chance Pine Tree and Shooting Star were to come down here, they would not see the lifeless corpse of a demon lying on the fancy, woven, velvet rug. This is what the hero would do, right?

Mabel: If you are reading this, congrats! You've won the: My Favorite Twin award! Keep smiling and using that magnetic personality of yours for good. Be careful with your brother. Don't let him bring you into a situation that would be tough to get out of!

Dipper: Sorry about that whole, "shooting a hole through your body in Stan's mind" thing and the "using your body as a shock absorber" thing. I wasn't exactly in the right state of mind at the time. I told your sister something similar but I feel that I should tell you a second time. STAY SAFE! Don't get into situations that could get you or your sister seriously injured. Oh, yeah and try not to stick your nose into other people's business, alright?

Ford: I suggest that you watch the security footage...ALONE. I left some things out that I said in there and are meant specifically for you. I don't want to traumatize the kids any more than they probably are.

ReAlItY iS aN iLlUsIoN tHe UnIvErSe Is A hOlOgRaM. BuY gOlD, bYe!!!

Best Regards: Bill M. Cipher."

Apon further inspection, the page was dotted with dried tear stains which were being added to by the second because of Mabel's shaky sobs. Dipper seemed to feel the same way, surprisingly as tears were dribbling down his cheeks, as well. Ford felt like joining them but, he was the adult here. He needed to stay strong.

Finally, the elderly man mustered up the courage to herd the twins into the elevator. He was going to watch the security tape.

It was odd. He was finally obeying some of Bill's orders. This was a first. He chuckled sadly, pondering about it further as a tear slipped from one of his eyes.

Ford brought up the security feed and rewound it until he could see Bill, in human form, writing the note. He wasn't floating or his usual, cheerful, glowing, yellow color. He was quite the opposite, in fact. A dull grayish hue.

Leaning over the desk and writing, he had a smile on his face and tears cascading down from his single, functioning eye. Their small tiff's onto the paper and desk beneath being the only sound in the silent room. Occasionally, he would pull his hand off of the paper and take a few shaky inhales before continuing, that smile, that unbelievable, never-before-seen smile plastered on his face. The smile of regret and sorrow.

Finally, he stopped and put down the feather ink pen that he was using before bending down and gingerly picking up a crudely-crafted, glass knife, very clearly created by one of the pieces of the deceased jar. He looked up at the screen as if it was all rehearsed before, seemed to swallow, and then spoke.

"Hey, uh," he fumbled for the knife, for the first time in his life at a loss for words. "S-So uh, if you're actually watching this, you, uh, you read my note. Pretty vague, huh?" He chuckled.

Ford's eyes seemed to water up more as he brought his hand to his mouth. Even in the worst situation, this man had the capacity to laugh. He was talking about a literal suicide letter, his suicide letter and smiling.

"I'm just trying to, uh, dull it down for the kids, y'know? Uh, anyhow, uh," he stuttered, searching for the words that he was planning to say.

"Those powers on your desk," he pointed at the jar on his screen and continued. "I think that each twin should get half. Uh, it-it won't hurt them it'll just make 'em feel weird for a few days and then they'll gradually learn to, uh, to control them. I-I mean, you don't have to give them to the twins just, uh, if you decide not to, be careful where you keep them because, um, after a while, they might get rowdy and try to forcefully find a host."

Ford looked at the powers on his desk and sniffed, walking over to pick them up before walking back to the monitor, tears still streaming down his face like a waterfall.

"Uh, so, uh, this is it, huh?"

The man stiffened, his tears seeming to stop for a half-a-second before speeding up their pace as he turned his attention back to the monitor.

"Y-Y'know, I r-really thought I'd outlive you. H-hah, I guess fate had another plan, r-right? U-Uh," he stuttered madly. The scientist had never heard the demon like this before and the sight was devastating.

Bill swallowed once again and tried his best to grin.

"Y-You win! Yaaaayyy...," He made a "jazz-hands" motion. "I, uh, r-r-really thought that y-y-you'd enj-enjoy uh, f-finishing me o-off s-so, I-I'm just going to let you pull the thing out, y'know."

Bill laid the knife across his palms and then looked from it to the camera, smiling sadly. His lips quivered as he tried to force himself to keep smiling. He couldn't do it. The normally happy, strong, and carefree demon was finally broken and it was not a pleasant sight.

Bill's whole body shook as tears started to cascade down his cheeks, his happy facade giving way to a broken heart and mind. A person who needed help to understand but, never got the assistance he needed. A person who was calling for help. A person who had lost everything.

He bit his bottom lip and stared back down at the knife, taking it in his right hand.

"Don't do it. Please, don't do it," Ford whispered to himself, his body going through nearly the same motions as Bill's.

He proceeded to turn the knife towards himself, holding the handle with both hands before squinting his eyes closed and plunging the knife into his chest. He had made sure that he didn't hit his heart but, instead, hit beside it, being able to meet the same fate as Molly.

The demon immediately looked straight ahead, shocked at the amount of pain as he coughed up a bit of blood. He shook slightly and blinked before looking up at the camera.

A stream of blood was running down his chin from his lips. His now grey suit was slowly turning red around the area where the knife had dug into. His eyes, the only seemingly living things on him were slowly losing their golden hue.

He exhaled shakily as a single tear rolled out of his eye and down his face. Then, the demon's lips formed into a smile.

"See ya' later, Fordsy..."

Ford shut the video feed off. This was too much for him to take.

He looked down at the trail of blood and followed it with his eyes, stopping at the shadows underneath another desk. He couldn't do it. He couldn't look under there...

But he had to.

A year passed, then another, and another. The town had moved on from the death of Molly. Well, almost all of the town.

The golden flower played the same song on the same day every year and one family would always come to listen to it. They would all stare at the grave and talk about what happened long ago.

This place was special. It belonged to two people. One who lived up to their dreams and aspirations and another who's got lost along the way.

The town didn't seem to notice or care that that a whole new name and epitaph was added to one, singular grave. The monument, new and revised, now read:

"Molly and Bill Cipher

Follow your dreams and you will eventually float to new heights.

Who you want to be and who you become are as different as night and day."

(WHAT THE HECK DID I JUST WRITE?! 2475 words of pure sadness..That's what! ANYWAYS, take a breather! It's alright! Bill Cipher is still alive in Stanley's mind! Molly has a child now! We're all good! I literally stayed up like, since 1:00 AM writing this and have a party. Gtg to sleepytimezzzzz.....SEE YA PEEPS!)