It was the day of Girlie's wedding when Prez's kids were kidnapped. What was supposed to be the happiest day of Girlie's life turns sour as she, Prez, Bill, and David must find them, safe and sound. {Contains characters from Gravity Falls but isn't really a fanfiction, third book of the Prez and Girlie series taking place June 2034}


10. Chapter Ten

     Girlie couldn't sleep that night. She tossed and turned in her bed that she now had to share. It felt... odd to turn over to find a man in her bed, only to remember that she was married. She had a husband to spend her time with.

     Is this how all newly-weds feel? Happy, because they don't have to be alone, but sad, because they are too used to it?

     Since she had moved away to a flat with no one for company except her cats, she had gotten used to being the idea of being GirlOfManyFandoms Appleshine, the Singular. And she actually didn't mind. Now she was GirlOfManyFandoms Tennant, the... Unknown...

     She slid off the bed, wishing she could blame Insomnia for her lack of sleep like normal. The truth was her mind was racing. It was zooming beyond comprehension. Only that morning, she had her whole life ahead of her. And she still did. But the smile she had worn earlier had faded. Her mind was clouded. She couldn't think of the amazing future she could have. She could only focus on the present. 

     Girlie felt her chest tighten. Suddenly, the vast area of space that was the TARDIS wasn't big enough. It was suffocating. She knew that in one of the rooms, Billie lay on a bed, drifting in and out of consciousness. Mari Anne was texting her husband, explaining why she wouldn't be back as soon as she had hoped. Prez was facing unimaginable torture. And Girlie was being a selfish brat.

     It was difficult for her to not be upset over the course of events. She felt guilty about it, but there was a dreadful feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her perfect day had been ruined. She knew it didn't matter that much, but it was affecting her mood tremendously. As mad as she was at the world for changing everything, she was twice as angry at herself. She was feeling sorry for herself, meanwhile, her nephews and niece were who-knows-where dealing with who-knows-what.

     What if they're in pain? Being tortured? Being killed?

     The thought startled Girlie. One of those thoughts that cross a mind without permission. The party crasher. It was the voice that always spoke, saying the things that she won't admit, not even in her head. It somehow managed to weave itself in her head, whispering its ugly thought.

     No, they wouldn't hurt them. They know the second they do that, there is no force in Heaven or Hell that could keep Bill, Prez, and me from tearing them apart.

     Her argument pleased her somewhat, for she had decided to be totally bias. She couldn't let the idea bother her. She was already irked enough.

     She checked her iPod and saw the time. Too early to crawl into bed and attempt sleep. Not early enough to force everyone up.

     Girlie made her way to the dresser across the room. She had left some fingernail polish remover and some cotton a month earlier. She unscrewed the lid, and the strong stench of the remover slapped her in the face. She wrinkled her nose, hoping it would cease the burning in her nostrils. She flooded the cotton with the vile smelling stuff and wiped away the nail design she had made that morning. White with little specks of gold and silver. Simple, but it had a meaning behind it.

     The day of Prez's wedding, Girlie convinced her sister to let her do her nails. Being a kids, the design was all she could do. White for the future, a bright one. Gold and silver for the past, the gems of memories that carry people on the journey.

     Girlie didn't feel that way anymore. She felt dark and moody. A human Eeyore. She grabbed a black Sharpie off the floor and filled her nails in. 

     Stupid Time Council. Ruining my stupid life. With their stupid plans. And their stupid… stupidness.

     Girlie couldn't stand to be in the room anymore. She stepped out and was surprised to see Bill sitting, his elbows resting on his knees, his head cradled in his hands. He was muttering curses under his breath as he stared at the ground.

     "C'mon now, Bill," Girlie said, startling Bill. "What'd the floor do to you to be called all that?"

     "Stop trying to be funny."

     "Fine. I'll be a depressing little shit and pull you down with me like the Titanic."

     Bill groaned. "I don't even care anymore. Do whatever the Hell you want."

     Dang. He's in a mood.

     "Bill. What'd do you mean?"

     "I am so sick of this. For the first time, I can't help her. I can't protect her. I am... done."

     "Did I just hear Bill Cipher give up? The Bill Cipher, whom I know and love, give up?"

     "Have you entered her mind?" He quickly added, "I'm not accusing you. I am just asking."

     "No. Why?"

     "She's having another vision now. Try."

     Reluctantly, Girlie closed her eyes. She found Prez's mental walls down. Not down. Demolished. Rubble.

     She ventured farther, and she found herself in a vision.


   A home. A living room. She was in a living room. There was a broken beer bottle on the floor. Some torn fabric. A table was overturned. Girlie looked into a shard of broken glass on the carpet.

     No reflection.

     "So what? Is this now A Christmas Carol? Am I now a ghost? No way to be seen or heard?"

     She wandered down the hall and heard soft whimpers. Whimpers of... pain.

     "Prez? Oh, please don't let that be her. Please don't."

     Peeking behind a door, she saw it. If Girlie would have remembered that she was practically non-existent, she would of screamed. But she remained silent, in fear of being caught.

      Prez was pressed up against a wall, pinned by a man that Girlie recognized as Theo. He had a wire coat hanger in one hand, and he was holding Prez's wrists together with the other. She'd been crying. Her arms were covered in scratches and bruises. Her shirt sleeve was missing a large chunk, like she had tried to run, but he had grabbed her. The ripped piece of fabric made sense.

     "Please," she whispered, begging mingling with fright in her voice. "I love you. Don't do this. Please."

     "Shut up!" He slammed the hanger into her thigh, causing a crack and a yelp. The yelp wasn't from Prez. No. It was Girlie who was in major pain at this. Her sister was being abused.

      "I'm sorry. I won't go out again. I swear. Please, stop."

     Theo released her wrists, and just when Girlie thought it was over, he struck her in the face with the hanger. Prez fell to the ground with a cry as he hit her again and again.

      Forgetting once again that she couldn't be heard, Girlie screamed. "STOP IT! STOP! YOU MONSTER! YOU'RE HURTING HER!"

     She closed her eyes, willing him to stop. When she opened them again, he was still whacking her. There was blood on the floor.

     Girlie realized she was crying, possibly more than the victim, and left. She couldn't take the vision anymore.


     Girlie had no words, so she was relieved when Bill spoke. That is, until she heard the words he said in their full.

     "That vision started an hour ago. They were fighting. Then he slapped her. She tried to run away. He grabbed her. He dragged her in there. He's been hitting her since. The last I saw, he grabbed a hanger and shoved her into a wall."

     "Then, I startled you out by talking..."

     "Yeah. I can't take this, Girlie. It is horrible what she is going through. I would rather blow my brains out."

      "Now, I know you aren't actually contemplating th-" One look in Bill's eyes - he wasn't wearing the eyepatch - and she knew. "Bill, what would happen if she woke up without you there?"

     "She'd go to you. She doesn't need me. She spent fourteen years without me just fine."

     "She needs you. More than anything. She loves you. If you go, she will too. And you know it."

     Bill sighed. "You're right. But I want to help, and I can't. It's horrible. Every time she cries, I know I can't help her. It's like I'm rubbing salt in a cut the size of my head."

     "We're in the same boat then."

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