Mabel was perched at the top of the stairs when Dipper came back from his first rehearsal.

"I'm home!" he called as the door slammed behind him.

"Welcome back!" Melody called from across the house as Dipper hung up his coat.

It wasn't until he started up the stairs that he saw Mabel, crouched down on the steps and staring at him like a cat.

"Oh. Hi, Mabes."

She stood up slowly, trying to remember the exact words she'd rehearsed in her head. As usual, she failed.

"Um," she said. "How was your — thing?"

"Really good, actually. Robbie and I get to wear headsets and talk to each other like secret agents." He smiled at her, but it was cautious.

"Um. Cool. I, uh." She swallowed. "Melody says Ford is gonna be down for the count for a few days, maybe even a couple weeks. I went to talk to him, and he says I should keep working on the laptop."

"That's great," said Dipper unenthusiastically.

"But, um, he doesn't think Melody will like it, so, uh — it would be best if I could go — somewhere else to work on it. Somewhere, um, private."

Then he got it. She could see it in his eyes.

"Somewhere else. . . like a theater during rehearsals?"

"Y-yeah. Like that."

A smile started creeping onto his face. "It's pretty important to have a good place to crack this code, right?"

She felt herself turning red. "Yes," she said stiffly.

"And it would be pretty important for someone to secure a good place in order for someone else to work on it?"

She gave him a pointed stare. "Don't pretend you did this for me."

"Oh, I didn't. But it sure would be nice of me to share."

Her face got redder.

"C'mon. . . ask me."

"I just did."

"No," he said. "Really ask me. With a 'please' and everything."

Mabel glared at him without saying anything for a minute. He just smiled smugly back.

She forced down her indignant rage. "Fine," she said slowly. "Dipper, could I — please — go to the theater with you to — work on the laptop while you — rehearse?"

Dipper's small smile split into a grin. "Yes, you may. Thank you for asking nicely."

Mabel gave him a sarcastic curtsy and turned, and flounced away to stop herself from saying anything else. She hurried into the attic and flopped down onto the bed, pulling out the laptop and flipping the lid open. She'd given herself a break to wait for Dipper, but now it was time to get back to it.

Five minutes and fifty BZZTs later, Dipper appeared in the doorway.

"Mabel, do you know what time it is?"

She glanced up at him. Who did he think he was — Mom? "There's no clock on this thing," she said irritably.

"It's late," Dipper answered. "If you're going to come to rehearsal with me, you gotta wait until then to work on the laptop, okay?"

"That wasn't anywhere in the deal!" Mabel retorted.

"If I remember correctly, it's not a deal, it's a favor. Just — get some sleep, okay? I don't wanna be up listening to that terrible noise."

Mabel fixed him with a glare for a solid five seconds before answering. "You're not the boss of me."

Dipper's voice went soft. "I'm just worried about you, is all."

Great. He was trying to pull the concerned brother card. Mabel looked down at the laptop and started idly pressing keys with one finger. "Well, don't be. I can worry about myself."

BZZT!

She sighed and closed the laptop. "Fine." She needed a break from the sound anyway. "Good night," she muttered, storing the laptop under the bed and pulling up the covers. She was still in her clothes.

Luckily Dipper had the sense not to say anything. She listened to the rustling of him changing into pajamas and getting in bed. He turned off the lamp and whispered, "Good night," into the darkness.

Mabel closed her eyes.

She tried to fall asleep, but she just couldn't. She couldn't stop thinking about the laptop, about the portal, about Stanley. She had to figure out the password. Ford was counting on her!

She paused for a moment and listened to Dipper's steady breathing. He was asleep.

She sat up slowly. She couldn't sleep, anyway. Maybe she could just work on it for a little while.

She eased the laptop out from under the bed.

A few short minutes later she was out on the balcony in the frigid night air, bundled in a blanket and wishing she had some hot chocolate or something. "It's fine," she said to herself. "The cold will keep me focused."

She set the laptop on the wooden planks and hunkered down next to it, bending down over her knees, completely covered in blanket save her face and one hand.

Then she started typing.

M-Y-S-T-E-R-Y-M.

BZZT!

M-Y-M-U-S-E-U-M.

BZZT!

It took her countless wasted minutes of variations on "Mystery Museum" to remember that Ford didn't even come up with the name until after Stanley disappeared. "Ugh!" she whispered hoarsely, banging on the keyboard with her fist.

BZZT!

Mabel moaned and rubbed her eyes. "Oh, I hate that sound."

She reached for the Journal, only to realize she'd left it inside.

She moaned again. "Well. Back to the alphabet, then. Where. . . was I. . ."

A-A-A-A-A-A-B-Q.

BZZT!

"Only two-hundred-and-eight billion possible combinations to go," Mabel muttered. "And I haven't even added in numbers yet."

With that thought came the feeling of crushing despair she'd been staving off all day. "Never mind," she told herself. "Just keep going."

A-A-A-A-A-A-B-R.

BZZT!

She didn't know how long she worked. She first noticed she was yawning at A-A-A-A-A-B-A-J, and she started rubbing her eyes around A-A-A-A-A-E-K-B. "I'm only working on this because I can't sleep anyway," she reminded herself. If she stopped now she'd just lay awake feeling guilty all night.

A-A-A-A-A-E-Y-G.

BZZT!

"Agh! I can't take this sound anymore!" She started bashing the keyboard with her hands.

"Where — "

BZZT!

" — is — "

BZZT!

" — the — "

BZZT!

" — mute — "

BZZT!

" — button!"

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!

Mabel moaned and dropped her forehead to the floor. "This is hopeless," she mumbled into the frozen wood.

She lay there for a moment before forcing her head up and yawning hugely. "Where are you, anyway, McGucket?" she asked the laptop screen. "Didn't you tell someone your password? Does anyone know but you?"

The wind whistled by, and Mabel shivered, drawing her blanket in closer. But the wind kept at her, and it was getting faster. A freezing blast hit her in the face, and the laptop lid fell shut. "Agh!" Mabel scrambled back into a moonbeam and grimaced. Why was the moon suddenly so bright?

The moon started to rotate, and Mabel sat still as she realized it wasn't the moon anymore.

It was an eye.

"I think I know a guy!"

There was a flash of light and Mabel cried out, screwing her eyes shut. When she opened them, everything was grey. Everything except a huge yellow triangle sprawled across her line of sight.

"Hi, Pine Tree!"

Mabel jumped to her feet, pulling her blanket around her shoulders and staring up at Bill Cipher. "What — what do you want?"

Bill shrugged his stick-like arms. "I feel bad about our last meeting. I wanna make it up to you."

"Last time we met, you dangled hope in front of me and pulled it away at the last second," Mabel said. "And the time before that you tried to hurt my brother."

"Your brother." Bill floated over to her, getting smaller as he came, and sat on the balcony. "You two don't fight often, do you? What an interesting situation you're in now."

"What do you know about that?" Mabel asked cautiously.

"Oh, I know lots of things," said Bill. "But watching you and your brother is the best entertainment I've had in decades."

Mabel stared at him.

"It's true. Not much to see in this town."

"Then why do you stick around?"

Bill didn't answer. "Dipper sure has a mean streak, doesn't he? Humiliating you like that over asking for his help."

"He does that sometimes," Mabel said, feeling oddly defensive for her brother. "Look, I don't need your help. J-just leave me alone." She shivered.

"Don't you think I owe you one for last time?"

"You don't owe me anything," Mabel muttered. "Just leave me alone. You don't actually want to help me."

"I don't?" Bill asked in mock surprise. "Oh, but Pine Tree. I know the password."

"You do?" It sounded too eager, and she hated it.

"Yep! It's just another piece in my vast stores of knowledge."

"Okay," Mabel said. "Then tell me the password and then I'll consider us even."

Bill drooped a little and sighed. His sigh sounded like wind through a thousand leaves. "Unfortunately, I can't help all that much without making a deal."

The warning bells went off then. "No. The only reason I thought about it last time was because I was desperate. It's a good thing Ford came, or—" She frowned. "Did you run away because of Ford?"

"I didn't run away, kid. As I recall, you woke up before you could take my hand." Bill rubbed at his eye. "Look, I won't talk to you long unless you make a deal with me. Are you in?"

"What's my side of the deal?" Mabel said.

Bill shrugged again. "I'll tell you the password, and you do a little favor for me later."

Favor. Mabel thought of Dipper. What would Dipper say if he was out here?

Probably that she should've just gone to sleep. Well, you were right, Dipper. You happy?

"Think about it," Bill said, reaching an arm towards her. She shied away. "You're trying to help Ford. You just want to be useful for once, don't you?"

Mabel didn't answer.

"But imagine Fordsie's face when you solve the password for him. Won't he be so proud?"

"I don't think Ford would want me to talk to you. Especially if you really did run away from him."

Bill lit up, about to say something — probably to protest that he hadn't run away — but Mabel cut him off. "No," she said. "You're bad news. I'll figure out the password on my own."

Bill opened his eye wide. "Wow. You're awfully persistent, Pine Tree. How long d'you think you can keep that up?"

"As long as I need to," Mabel said defiantly. "I don't need help cheating."

"Cheating? Pine Tree, I'm trying to save you hours of work here."

She wanted it. She wanted it so bad. Wasn't it worth it?

But every time she thought of her hand touching his, she felt utterly nauseated. She had to trust her feelings.

"No. I'm not making a deal with you. Just go away."

Bill blinked slowly. "Fine." He floated up into the air. "But if you ever change your mind, I'll be ready and waiting."

"You'll be waiting a long time."

"Sure, kid. Good luck with the laptop!"

Bill snapped his fingers, and the world went white again. Mabel's eyes felt ready to burst in her skull.

Then she bolted upright.

She sat there, breathing heavily and feeling disoriented. She had just been standing a moment ago, but now she was huddled up on the ground again, the laptop open in front of her. A dream. It had all been a dream.

She looked up at the moon. It shone down on her like nothing had ever happened.

"Okay, yeah," she said, closing the laptop. "I'm going to bed."

She tried to ignore her swirling thoughts as she snuck back into the Mystery Museum. She was proud of herself for resisting, but also sickened. Did she really just turn down a chance at finding out the password? Bill could've been lying, but. . . what if he wasn't? What if he really did want to help her?

But there was no way to know. And Mabel couldn't be responsible for messing everything up. That might just be even worse than being useless.

She tiptoed into her room and slid the laptop carefully under the bed. Dipper was still breathing evenly. He had no idea what had just happened.

Should she tell him?

Immediately her fears rushed into focus. He'd get worried and overprotective. He'd hide the laptop. He'd tell Ford that she'd talked to Bill — that she'd almost made a deal with him not once, but twice. That she considered it. That she was weak.

Mabel swayed a little on her feet. Never mind. She'd decide later. She'd do it all later.

She collapsed into bed and curled up under the blankets, feeling more discouraged than ever.