Chapter Text
There is a man who lives in your very normal town in the Pacific Northwest. Sometimes you see him on the street or at the supermarket. And though he doesn’t pay much mind to you, you get the feeling that he knows something.
When you look at him, you feel slightly unnerved. It starts in your gut and slowly rises up your back, an uncertainty that this man is up to no good despite an outwardly friendly demeanor of someone whom you might invite to get lunch with you on Wednesday. There is nothing wrong with him at all, but the longer you stare you think there must be something. Something about the curve of his smile or his perfect posture.
That man is the demon Alcor, Lord of Nightmares, Twin Star, 3 time Monster-Mon champion circa 2016, 2017, 2018, and owner of several other unimportant titles.
And he is currently teaching his son how to ride a bike.
Disclaimer: the child is not the anti-Christ or any other kind of demonic spawn, though has some notable similarities.
None of it should have ever happened: Alcor finding an orphaned child covered in blood that was not his own; and then deciding on a whim that instead of destroying the child, he might see better results if he tried raising it.
Alcor lies to the boy, just as any other father would, saying that he’s not going to let go of the seat. But of course, at some point he will let go and let his son free pedal down the street and treat the experience as some kind of metaphor about life.
It is disturbingly normal.
“Promise me I won’t fall,” his son says.
“Kiddo, there is no way I will let you fall.”
Bikes are different than he remembers them being when he was young. Everything changes over time; but he felt sure bikes couldn’t and shouldn’t get anymore elaborate. Now they can hover and light up, this particular model has extra balancing runes for new riders. But, it is a bike all the same.
He leans over and whispers to his son, “You can do it, Toby.”
Toby grips to the handlebars and pedals, first slowly and then with more vigor. Alcor keeps up behind, neither sweating nor breathing heavy, and when Toby has kept speed and balance long enough— he lets go, just like any other lying father. And Toby continues to pedal.
“You got it! Now ease on the breaks and take one foot off the pedal! Like we practiced!” He calls.
Toby does just that, albeit shakily and with hesitation. Looking over his shoulder, Toby realizes he had been lied to and that his father did let go, but that he rode a bike all on his own. There’s some confusion, followed by betrayal, and then some pride.
“You did it, Toby!” Alcor cheers as his son grows giddy and then grabs the bike to ride back the 9 foot distance between him and his dad, this time with more confidence. “I’m so proud of you, kiddo!” He puts on hand on his son’s helmet.
“You lied!”
“Yeah you caught me. I’m a big liar, but I had to lie. You wouldn’t have done it all on your own if I said I would let go. It was a helpful lie.”
There’s one other complication. Toby is the reincarnated soul of Alcor’s age old enemy Bill Cipher and that Alcor used to be a human named Dipper Pines.
Toby doesn’t know the truth about himself or his father. He’s being lied to.
But it’s a helpful lie.