A Crescendo of Hysteria :: (Obsessive) BillFord oneshot
Bill had been absent the past few months and Ford wasn't happy with it.
He just disappeared. Without any trace whatsoever. He didn't even say that he would be gone or that he wouldn't be able to attend their scheduled meetings. It was frustrating.
Ford wasn't someone who easily questions his own sanity but this? Bill's sudden decision to leave him for unknown reasons made him start doubting his existence.
There were no evidences or proof that he was real. Bill only existed in the mindscape. Frankly put, he only existed in Ford's mind. And to ask for someone to reassure him that Bill was real was impossible. At least, no one alive but him knew of his existence.
So on a daily basis, Ford would go to the caves that bore the ancient writings of the natives of Gravity Falls of the demon. Each afternoon he would mutter the summoning chant to himself, desperately hoping Bill would come back.
But nobody came.
Today wasn't quite different. Ford awoke late, as usual. He had been doing so for the past few weeks. There wasn't a reason he should wake up early anyways. There was no work to be done. Without Bill, completing the Portal would be impossible, assuming the portal wasn't a load of crap he had imagined as well.
He got out of bed, dressed himself up with his usual plain, white, polo shirt and tan coat, ate a piece of toast and drank a cup of honey mint tea before leaving his house. After 3 months of trying, he decided that this was his last attempt to summon Bill.
The clouds were dark and heavy. It seemed like it was going to rain soon, Ford noted to himself. He had to get going if he wanted to return home before it started pouring. He briskly walked to the cave. But something made him stop. While on his way to his destination, he heard a twig snap behind him. Reflexively, he turned around, only to find McGucket following him.
"Stanford," He called out, jogging to him. "We need to talk about that little... dilemma of yours."
"Fiddleford I'm fine," Ford told him, turning his back against him. He squeezed his hands into a fist. "I just need a little more time to myself, I swear. After this I'm done. I—"
"Stanford, no." Mcgucket grabbed his shoulder and forced him to turn to him. Their eyes met. Ford was stunned to see the serious look that he gave him. "Whatever you're trying to summon, whoever your… friend is, he's not real."
Ford felt something inside him snap. With a swift movement, he had slapped Fiddleford's hand away from him and took a step back. Not real? Bill was real. He just disappeared. He just abandoned him. That was all. The natives of Gravity Falls knew him and that was proof! Ford pointed at Mcfucket. "Just because you haven't met him, means that he doesn't exist!"
Fiddleford sighed. "You don't remember, do you?" He muttered to himself. He took a small bottle from his coat pocket and handed it to Ford. Ford looked at it before angrily taking the bottle to skim its inscriptions. The first word he read made his blood run cold. His eyes widened and he dropped the bottle on the ground.
Ziprasidone.
He looked at Fiddleford, terrified. No. No, no, no, no! Ford thought, putting his hand to his head. His heart beat fast. Ziprasidone. I can't be taking this. I… I…
"Ford," Fiddleford said softly, "Have you been taking too much of antipsychotic drugs? You should be smarter than to take more than you should!" Fiddleford told him, concerned. "You know the adverse effects if you had an overdose—!"
"I'M NOT SCHIZOPHRENIC!" Ford yelled at him, backing away from him. "I'm… I'm not." Ford repeated, but it sounded as if he had a hard believing it himself. "I can't be…"
This didn't make sense. He couldn't be schizophrenic. Bill couldn't just be a voice in his head. He was real. There were the cave writings. There were Bill's additions to the journal, the schematics of the portal all written by Bill personally when he used to possess his body.
Ford didn't want to believe it. He couldn't.
"If my informant, my personal friend wasn't real," Ford began, throwing the medication away. "Then how could I have known forbidden spells and enchantments. How could I have found out about the Possession spell."
Fiddleford's eyes widened, taken aback, but his expression quickly hardened. "Don't you dare bring that up!" He told him with a raised voice. "You know how I feel when you talk about that."
"You know what?" Ford was starting to grow more exasperated than afraid. "I don't. I don't know how you feel when I mention that! You never told me what the heck you have against about the spell!"
There was a loud yell and in a flash Ford found himself on the ground, being strangled by Fiddleford. His vision was fuzzy, and he tried to look for his glasses. Though everything he saw was blurred, he could see the fire in Mcgucket's eyes, anger restrained for so long that it was spilling out all together. Ford struggled to get the man off him but he was stronger than he had expected.
"What do you mean you don't know?" Fiddleford screamed at him, tightening his grip. "Don't you remember? You used me as a test subject! Don't you remember when you called me into your study one night? Don't you recall when you asked me to take a seat, offering me tea only to strap me down on a chair? Do you not remember reciting that incantation?" Fiddleford took his hand off Ford's neck then balled into fists, raised up in the air, ready to strike it down. Ford squirmed under his weight, desperately trying to get off of him, but the shock of all his words made him lose his energy. Fiddleford growled at him.
"DON'T YOU REMEMBER EVER POSSESSING ME?!"
With one swift movement, Fiddleford brought his fist down at Ford's left ear. It left Ford dazed, vision blurry and a loud ringing in his ears. He stopped struggling, trying to gather himself. He heard his assistant gasp before feeling his weight on top of him disappeared.
"I-I'm sorry," Ford heard him say faintly. "I didn't mean to. I forgot you were—"
"I am not delusional." Ford interrupted him before he could say he was mentally ill. He sat up with a moan, rubbing the side of his head. He saw the faint silhouette of his spectacles and he quickly took them and shoved it up his nose. One of the lenses were cracked, but he could still see. Ugh. Fiddleford was paying for these. He looked at Fiddleford who looked ashamed at his outburst. Ford furrowed his brows. "I don't remember ever using that spell on you."
"Exactly, that's what I'm—," Fiddleford said but quickly he cut his sentence short. "Stanford, let's sit this down. You have to listen to me when I tell you that something is wrong with you."
"But—,"
"Just," He interrupted, raising his hands to signal silence. "Hear me out. Hm?" He looked at him pleadingly, "Just listen to me, like what you used to do."
Ford scowled but nodded. Fiddleford sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. Ford tried his best to set his mind to objectively accept whatever Mcgucket's insight was but it was proving to be challenging because a lot of what he said didn't coincide with the facts and the evidences at hand.
"Well," Fiddleford started, trying to keep himself calm. Apparently the whole test subject thing pissed him off. Like hell Ford knew if it were real. For all it was, it could be Mcgucket lying to him, manipulating him. Ford bit on his lip, summoning the last of his patience to keep him from walking out on him.
"I wasn't implying you were schizophrenic," he stated, "I hypothesized you had DID."
DID - Dissociative Identity Disorder. Ford knew what that was. It was formerly and probably more known as the multiple identity disorder and it was, quite frankly, the most absurd idea he had ever been presented with. Being Schizophrenic was bad enough, but being accused of having more than one personality, it was plain blasphemy!
"And what's your evidence?" Ford asked.
"You talk a lot to no one in particular," Fiddleford noted, "which is an obvious sign for hallucination. Aside from that, you are rather obsessive compulsive at one point then be overly disastrous the next moment. And you drink too much alcohol sometimes-"
Oh, that must be Bill's fault. Ford thought inwardly.
"-and you might have amnesia."
That was not what he expected to hear. "Amnesia? Me?" Ford sighed inwardly. This was so pathetic, maybe Mcgucket was the delusional one, not him. "Are you serious, Mcgucket?"
"Yes I am," Fiddleford replied sternly. "You don't remember your medication. You don't remember you 'accidentally' cut yourself with a knife multiple times at different occasions. Heck, you don't remember a lot of things.
"Do you even know that you possessed me more than once?" He asked. Ford heard the venom embedded in his voice, the menace that coated his words. Ford raised an eyebrow. This was getting harder to believe. "You conducted a series of tests seeing if I would be able to break the spell if I had enough will-power. You told me that," Fiddleford paused, gritting his teeth. He let out a heavy sigh. "You told me that you wouldn't stop the tests unless I succeed breaking free from the spell."
There was a quick flash of light followed by the loud boom of thunder. It seemed that there was going to be a storm. They needed to find shelter before they continue their discussion. Ford stood up and started walking to the cave.
"Where are you going?" Mcgucket asked, standing up as well. "It's a bit rude of you to walk out on me. And not like you, Ford."
"We need to find shelter before it rains." He told him listlessly. "The cave is nearer to us. If we go back to my house, we'd be wet, cold, and sick by then. "
Ford didn't hear a response from him. He kept his gaze on the ground, unable to look at Fiddleford. Everything was still too much for him to handle. His hands were shaking and he had buried them in his pockets so Mcgucket wouldn't notice. He wasn't sure why he was shaking. Was it because of the supposed overdose after effect (assuming the overdosage was true) or was it caused by the trauma that he was experiencing at that moment, he wasn't sure.
The silence that settled between them was heavy and hostile, and Ford didn't like it one bit. Once fed with an idea the mind tends to feed on it. This was no exception. He wasn't crazy… was he? Him deciding on whether or not he was losing his marbles was making him fall apart. It was pushing him off the edge. Heck, he was starting to imagine he was hearing voices already.
He needed to stop his thoughts from overflowing.
"So," Ford said so suddenly that Fiddleford jerked back. He looked at Ford. "Did you, uh, succeed the tests?"
Fiddleford frowned. He obviously didn't want to talk about it but there was no point in stopping now, right? "Well," he grumbled, "Yes. After a lot of tries, I did. I don't know how I did, but I passed your tests. And after that we made a deal to never bring it up ever.
"I thought long and hard about why you could've possibly put me in all through that painful agony, but I came to the conclusion that maybe you just wanted to strengthen my mind. Although you used one of the worst methods ever."
"Please stop saying that I did those," Ford told him weakly. "I didn't. And I wouldn't have."
"Your alter personality could," Fiddleford pointed out. Ford shot him a glare.
"Bi—My 'alter personality' wouldn't do such a thing," Ford reassured him. "I know him for a long time now and he's not like that."
The two men entered the large cavern and proceeded to go in deeper. There was another flash of lightning and it momentarily illuminated the rigid walls where the ancient drawings were.
Ford faced Mcgucket. "Now I have a counter-argument." Ford raised his arms and gestured to the writings on the wall. "If my friend was just another personality of mine, how could you explain this?"
Fiddleford raised an eyebrow, "I don't know," he said sarcastically, "how can you explain those?" He pointed at the buckets of homemade paint at the far corner of the cave. Fiddleford went over to the pile of art materials and inspected it. "And can you tell me," he continued, rummaging through the pile, "what this six-fingered glove is doing here?"
It felt as if a spear pierced Ford's chest. He didn't remember putting any of those there. He looked at the walls. There was no way he could've drawn those. It looked too old and ancient. Someone was obviously framing him!
It might just look old because it's homemade paint, Ford argued with himself. Maybe I am going crazy! Maybe I do have an alter personality…
Bill isn't my alter personality, Ford tried to convince himself.
Think about it. You're the only one who knows about Bill. He's just probably the result of being away from human contact for so long. You have been feeling a bit too lonely. He's just conceived to cope.
Then that's like saying that everything I've worked on is just a delusion of mine! Ford told the other side of himself. That's like saying that everything I've discovered is just a lie!
It is. It is a lie and you made it yourself. You're going crazy. Maybe Fiddleford is right; you need help.
"I DO NOT," Ford screamed, putting his hands to his ears. He tried desperately to block the voice in his head. "I AM FINE. YOU'RE THE ONE WHO'S INSANE! BILL IS REAL. HE SHOULD BE."
Why do you want him to be real so bad?
"I…" Ford sank to his knees, tears in his eyes. "I… don't know. I don't know anymore," he sobbed, "I just want him back, okay? Everything I've worked on, it's all going to waste if he doesn't come back. I'm going to be stuck forever, the answers just inches from my grasp."
That's so pathetic. You're going crazy for a project that's not going to work!
"You don't know that!" Ford continued yelling to himself. He looked at the paintings. "And it's not only about the portal. He doesn't only help me with my projects! He's done so much more! Without him nobody will…" Ford punched the wall, channeling the hurricane of emotions he was feeling out. He heard his knuckles crack, but he couldn't care about the pain it brought him because he was already in so much suffering, so much torment.
"Without Bill, nobody will believe in me anymore."
Ford didn't care anymore. Crazy or not, his life was was no point in doing anything. There was no point in living. He'd just rather sit there in the cave for the remainder of his life, probably die from starvation and exposure or probably some monster would come for him and eat him alive. He just couldn't find the energy to continue anymore. He just wanted to keep sleeping until Bill returned, even if it meant waiting for an eternity. Even if it meant he had to die.
Fiddleford laughed madly.
Stanford was knocked out of his paroxysm at the sound of his assistant's laughter. How dare he find his hysteria hilarious? Was his pain some form of entertainment? Infuriated, Ford stood up and faced him, balling his hands into fists.
"Why, you—!"
"Oh, man, Sixer!" Fiddleford managed to say between gasps as he tried to stifle his chuckle. "You're so cute when you're being hysterical like that!" He told him with a huge grin. Ford's heart skipped a beat. It couldn't be…
"You know, you worry too much Stanford," Mcgucket said, walking to Ford in an overzealous manner. "You keep forgetting that you're not alone. You keep forgetting that I'm always watching, even when I'm not around."
"Bill." The name escaped Ford's lips as a soft whisper. Fiddleford, or rather, Bill smiled at him and sat on the rocks beside him. "Where have you been! I demand to know! I've-"
"Calm down Fordsie!" Bill silenced him. Bill inspected Fiddleford's hands and arms and shrugged. "I've been taking care of a lot of businesses of… utmost importance, as you would put it back at my dimension. Unfortunately I got caught between a time anomaly and I might've returned five weeks late." He let out an exasperated growl. "That pathetic baby…" Bill remarked, although he didn't say anything to follow or explain what a baby could possibly have done to compromise his return but Ford could care less. After the dramatic debacle, he was just happy that Bill was back and was content in staying in the cave while the rain started to pour heavily outside.
But despite the calm silence that had settled between them, there was a voice at the back of his mind yelling that something was wrong.
Fiddleford's evidences, it whispered, the medication, the paint. Your amnesic memory. You just discovered all those then, for some reason, conveniently, Bill appears possessing Mcgucket! That's a bit too suspicious, considering Fiddleford already immune to the possession spell.
Ford froze. The voice had a point. He looked at his assistant. If Fiddleford was pretending to be Bill then he was spot on. His impression was too seamless to ever be an act, considering him and the demon not having formally met.
Fiddleford yawned and stretched his arms. He looked at the wall boredly. Ford hesitated. He wanted to believe he was real but, argh! Everything was too confusing! He couldn't trust anyone!
"I can hear you think," Bill told him, standing up and facing the murals. He grinned. "The natives of Gravity Falls really know how to capture my true nature.
"Existing for a long time amongst humans teaches me not to easily give my trust to anyone," he began running his hand on the cavern wall. "So while you were busy trying to summon me, I decided to give you a great trial, to test your faith, if you know what I mean." The demon took a stone in his hand and scratched the mystic symbols written on the wall. "It was an elaborate yet simple plan I had in mind for a long time now, and, man, it was a fun one to execute.
"All I needed was a puppet. I couldn't possess you and risk being discovered or else everything I aimed to do would be useless. So I used your assistant. I'm sorry about that by the way," he added quickly when he saw Ford frown. "He never really succeeded in any of the tests and he was getting tiring to play with so to stop the misery he was in, I made him think he overcame my possession." Bill chuckled. "Of course, little did he know that instead of strengthening his mind, I just weakened it."
"That's terrible," Ford whispered.
"It's all for your own good, anyways," Bill told him, ruffling Ford's hair.
"My own good…"
"Hey, Sixer," Bill said alluringly, giving him a sultry smile. "I know not all the things I do are morally good but you have to understand that I have my reasons for it. Besides, morality isn't really that reliable. I believe you know that fully well." Bill raised an eyebrow and Ford gave him a small nod in agreement.
"You're surprisingly quiet, Stanford," Bill noted. "Are you that shaken over what happened?" Ford nodded again. Bill laughed and put his arm around Ford's shoulder. "Cheer up Fordsie. I'm back and there's nothing more to worry about. I'll be in your dreams again and I'll fill you out with what happened in my dimension. And then you can tell me what happened in your part for the past three months."
Ford smiled a bit. "That sounds nice."
"So is it a deal, Sixer?" Bill mused. Ford laughed.
"Deal."
Author's Note:
*points at Secrets of Wysteria by Steampianist*
This fic is heavy on the discussion of Mental Illnesses and the two I chose are definitely real. I did light research on DID and schizo, watched a few documentaries about it to make this seem realistic (one of my betareaders commented on how disturbing i can mimic the mind of a crazy person haha)
Anyone whom I've upset/triggered IS NOT MY FAULT. I WROTE A WARNING IN THE START TELLING YOU TO ABANDON READING IT.
Now Bill set up the entire thing. He possessed mcgucket to buy the antipsychotic drugs and placed the homemade paint in the cave. He also made sure that he would whisper thoughts to Mcgucket making him suspect that Ford is going bonkers to the extent he rummages through his cupboard of vitamins and supplements to prove (to himself) that ford isnt crazy. Unfortunately he found the pills bill (rhYMES) placed so now commences the story