Blind Lincoln had always found it fascinating how human eyes adjusted to darkness.

He lay there on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, which had a moment ago been pitch black. Now, however, he could pick out the textures and patterns in the wood. Turn off a light, and you were plunged into darkness, you were helpless. But not forever. Humans could learn.

Someone pounded on his door.

Lincoln sat up, his heart speeding up. Who would disturb him so suddenly this late at night?

Never mind. He threw off the covers and stood up, slipping his robes over his head as the knocking grew louder and faster. Lincoln crossed to the door.

He turned the knob and pulled the door open, fully prepared to give this intruder the brunt of his irritation. But he instantly stopped himself when he saw who was at the door.

Pacifica Pleasure stood in the hall. Tears streamed down her smooth face.

Lincoln knelt down and put a hand on her shoulder. "Pacifica! What's wrong?"

"Bill," she choked out.

Lincoln's expression hardened. He knew it. He knew this communication with Bill would lead to nothing good. Lifelong servant or not, if Bill harmed this poor girl—

"No," Pacifica said, reading Lincoln's face, "no, he didn't do anything to me — he was trying — to save me—"

"What do you need saving from?" Lincoln asked gently.

"Mabel, of course!" Pacifica sobbed. She grabbed Lincoln's robes in her fists and pushed them to her face, her shoulders heaving.

Lincoln sat there, completely at a loss.

After a minute, Pacifica pulled back and kept talking. Her voice shook. "He — he tried to kill her — he almost succeeded — but Dipper—"

She couldn't go on; she burst into tears again.

Lincoln fought with all his strength to be patient and wait for her to be ready to speak.

"Dipper stopped him," Pacifica whispered. "Bill — Bill was going to save me — and Dipper—"

She stared up at Blind Lincoln like she was waiting for him to say something.

Lincoln racked his brain. Dipper. . . Dipper was the one Pacifica was in love with, he believed. But she thought his sister Mabel had him under her spell. Yes, that was it.

"I. . .," Lincoln began. "I'm sorry, Pacifica."

It wasn't enough, he knew.

"Bill possessed Mabel today," Pacifica said, sniffling. "That's why I couldn't find him earlier. He was going to stop the Pines' terrible plans and then get rid of Mabel for me. But he — he failed. And now he's angry. So angry. . ."

"Did he do anything to you?" Blind Lincoln asked.

"N-no. But he sent me to get you. He — he wants to talk to you."

Blind Lincoln bit his cheek. Of course he did. Somehow this would be Lincoln's fault.

"Okay," he said gently. "I'll talk to him. But first, let me take me back to your room, all right?"

"N-no!" Pacifica cried out, clinging tighter to Lincoln's robes. "No — Mabel's there — she's laughing at me — she's going to hurt me — please, don't make me go back, please, she's too strong, even Bill can't fight her off, please — "

"All right, all right," Lincoln soothed. "You don't have to go back. But where will you go?"

Her wide eyes looked up into his. "Maybe. . . could I stay with you?"

Lincoln frowned. "I only have one small cot."

"I — I'll sleep on the floor. Please."

Lincoln's lungs constricted. Pacifica was one who appreciated her comfort. If she was willing to sleep on the floor. . . she must be terrified.

"All right," he said. "I'll go get your blankets. Do you want to come with me?"

She shook her head.

Lincoln left her sitting on his bed and hurried down to her rooms, where he grabbed her blanket and pillow. His back hurt just thinking of her on the hard stone floor, so he made a detour to a small closet to grab another blanket to put underneath.

He returned to find that Pacifica had soaked his pillow in more tears. "S-sorry," she said.

"It's fine," he said. He could just turn it over.

He got her settled on the floor. He could tell she was uncomfortable, but trying to hide it. It made him want to volunteer to give her the bed and sleep on the floor himself, but he knew his old bones would fare far worse on the floor than her young ones.

He bent over her, putting a hand on her forehead. "Is there anything else I can do?"

She shook her head. "Just. . . tell Bill I know he was trying his best."

Lincoln had to keep himself from grimacing. He'd be telling Bill a lot of things, but that would not be one of them.

"Are you sure you'll be all right?"

Pacifica hesitated. "No," she whispered. She reached up and took Lincoln's hand in hers. "But thank you."

He nodded and stood, feeling woefully incompetent.

"Lincoln?" Pacifica whispered as he turned away. He turned back.

"Do you think. . ." She swallowed. "Do you think Dipper h-hates me? The way Mabel does?"

How was he supposed to answer that? For all he knew, the answer could be yes.

He took a deep breath. "I don't think either of them hate you," he said. "Besides, didn't you tell me that Dipper is nice to everyone?"

"Yes. . . but that doesn't mean he likes them. He could secretly hate them."

"Maybe." Lincoln sighed. "I'm sorry, Pacifica, I don't know." He paused, then knelt down next to her, ignoring his protesting bones. "But I do know," he said, "that I want to help you. There has to be a way to get rid of this spirit who haunts you without killing the real Mabel."

"I. . . I don't think there is," Pacifica said.

"I do," Lincoln said. "And if there is, I'm going to help you find it. We'll find it together. All right?"

She stared at him for a moment. Then a small smile appeared on her face. "O-okay."

"It'll all be okay," Lincoln said. "Now, try to get some sleep, all right?"

"All right," she whispered. "Stay with me?"

So Lincoln stayed there, kneeling next to Pacifica with a hand on her shoulder, until she was asleep. He listened to her final shuddering breath before her breathing steadied into unconsciousness. He felt her small shoulder rise and fall under his large hand.

And the entire time, he thought of how he could help her.

His thoughts were jumbled and tired, however, and he couldn't make any sense of them. Everything was clouded over by his helpless pity for Pacifica and his shame at being unable to fix it.

Finally, he pulled himself away and crawled back into bed. He'd almost forgotten his summons to Bill. Ah, well. The demon had been waiting for thousands of years; surely he could wait another hour or so for Blind Lincoln to dream.

Before he fell asleep, however, he looked one more time at Pacifica, curled up on his floor. He could make her out in the darkness. His eyes had once again adjusted.

"I don't know how to help you," he whispered to her. "But I'll try."

He imagined that small smile of hers, and wished he could see it more often.

And even though she couldn't hear him, in that moment, Blind Lincoln made Pacifica Pleasure a promise.

"I'll keep you safe."

~~~~~

Pacifica had been right. Bill was angry.

He made no pretense. As soon as Blind Lincoln entered REM sleep, Bill was there, red and fiery and sitting on a huge throne of broken, twisted metal.

"Subtle," Lincoln said.

Bill's fire flared. "Don't you mock me, Blind Eye. I'm in no mood to play."

"No, apparently not. What did you do to Miss Pleasure?"

"That's what you're concerned about?" Bill's eye narrowed. "Nothing. I did nothing to her. She got herself in this situation."

"Maybe. But possessing a child, Bill? Isn't that excessive? Do I have people I need to mind-wipe?"

Bill grew larger upon his throne, towering over Blind Lincoln, surrounded by angry red flames. "You dare speak to me in that tone!" he roared.

Instantly Blind Lincoln fell to his knees and bowed. "I. . . I apologize, Lord Cipher. I forgot my place."

"Yes, you did. Don't forget, I'm the one with the intelligence here. I would have succeeded today, if not for a slight error in planning."

"Of course, my lord," Blind Lincoln said. He sat upright, but didn't dare get to his feet yet. "Lord Cipher. . . were you really going to kill Mabel Pines?"

"What? No. That's just what Crescent Moon wanted to think, and I didn't tell her otherwise."

"You wouldn't kill Mabel because she's on the Wheel," Lincoln said.

"Yes. How clever of you to deduct," Bill said sarcastically. Lincoln didn't reply: Bill had confirmed something he'd be wondering for a while. "Now, should we get to business, or do you want to keep wasting my time talking about my Symbols?"

"Apologies. What do you need from me, my lord?"

"I need you to get out of town."

Lincoln blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"Announce Pacifica as the new leader-in-training. Tell the people she'll be in charge for a while. Then take a trip. Go see those dwarves about recreating that gun, maybe. Whatever you'd like. But I want you out of the way for a few weeks."

Lincoln's alarm was surpassed only by his confusion. "Why — " He cleared his throat. "Lord Cipher, if I may ask, why do you make this order?"

"You may not ask."

Perfect. Just perfect.

"My lord, I don't believe Miss Pleasure is ready for — "

"Pacifica is the person I need in charge at the moment. Do not question me."

Blind Lincoln closed his eyes and took a slow, calming breath. He was digging his own grave, he knew. But. . . "The girl is deeply distressed after what happened today," he said slowly, keeping a careful deference in his voice. "I believe she needs some time to. . . recover. I would also feel more at peace if I had some more time to train her."

Bill's glare was in no way amused.

"Could we make a deal?" Lincoln asked, trying not to sound desperate. "If Pacifica and I can have more time, I'll. . ."

He trailed off as he realized there wasn't much more he could offer. He had already given Bill his soul.

Bill stared Lincoln down in an uncomfortable silence. A silence in which Lincoln felt a stab of actual fear for the first time in years. The deal ploy may have been the wrong one.

"Fine," Bill said finally. Lincoln held back a sigh of relief. "I'll give you more time, but just know that I don't have much time to give. This is a high favor."

"Yes, my lord." Lincoln touched his forehead to the floor again. "Thank you, my lord."

"In return," Bill continued, "there can be no hesitation. When I appear and tell you to leave, I expect you to drop everything and get out. Immediately."

"Yes, my lord." It was safest to say this and nothing else.

"Your obedience is severely lacking these days, Blind Eye. Should you mess up this simple task, you will most sincerely regret it."

"Yes, my lord."

Bill gazed down at him in silence again. Blind Lincoln waited for him to speak.

"Announce Pacifica's leadership within the next week. After that, your only job is to supervise her until I direct otherwise."

"Yes, my lord."

"Make sure the entire Order is there for the announcements. Including the Northwests. Make sure everyone knows to answer to her."

Suddenly Lincoln remembered. "My lord. . . Gideon saw Pacifica today."

"I know," Bill said wearily. "Bring the Northwests to the meeting, and make sure they know where the new authority lies."

"Yes, my lord." Lincoln hesitated. "Lord Cipher, Pacifica isn't taking over. . . permanently, is she?"

"Not yet. Consider this a test run of sorts."

Deal or no deal, Lincoln still didn't like this. Not much at all. But he didn't have much of a choice.

"You have some life let in you," Bill continued, "but not for long, I don't think. Getting Pacifica ready is vital at this stage."

His eye pierced Lincoln's soul. "You've gotten complacent, Blind Eye. The time has almost come for me to win my freedom. I need better from you if we're going to succeed."

"Yes, my lord."

Some of Bill's anger seemed to subside. "Good," he repeated. "Sleep now. Make your announcement. I'll give you further instruction then."

Blind Lincoln bowed again, touching his forehead to the ground, as Bill grew brighter and brighter and disappeared.

As soon as he was gone, Lincoln heaved a sigh of relief.

He only had a few moments of lucidity to think this through, he knew. This order was troubling. Lincoln didn't think Pacifica was ready to lead the Order, especially with her bond to Bill that was so scarily close. But it seemed Bill was taking Lincoln out of the equation. Why? Why couldn't Lincoln be here?

His awareness was fading. His mind begged him to let go and get lost in his dreams. His dreams, which were supposed to be his precious few moments of bliss. His dreams, which were invaded by the demon he called his master.

Lincoln lost awareness and slipped back into the ignorance of his dreams. It was an odd sensation.

It felt strangely similar to his eyes adjusting to the dark.

END OF EPISODE THREE