People screamed in terror, running along cracked streets, fleeing from demons and ghouls both frightful and revolting. Two sets of twins ran with them, though they didn't scream at all. Instead, they shouted their plan to each other, uncaring of who heard them and what they were saying. The younger twins split away from the older set, youthful legs carrying them away faster.
The older set sprinted from the street to a tower that still stood despite the obvious neglect it had suffered during the first wave of weirdness. The one wearing a dark red sweater got to the top first, his identical brother soon with him. The first one yelled something, face contorted in fear and pain and eyes filled with a sadness so deep that it hurt him a little bit inside.
For some reason, he didn't quite care, he felt numb and emotionless, like he was on autopilot and he couldn't switch it off no matter what he tried. He could only go closer, blue flames flickering up from his hands, hot and cold at the same time, ready to destroy and maim and kill.
The first twin kept screaming, and now he could recall a name to go with those desperate eyes; Stanford. Ford. Fordsie. Sixer. Boytoy. Love bear. That was supposed to be his lover, the man he cared about and watched study peculiar things and joke with his nephew and niece. The man that sometimes jabbed himself in the face because he was too tired to properly brush his teeth. Ford who adored that he only ever wanted scrambled eggs and toast in the shape of triangles for breakfast. Ford who stole the blankets at night in revenge for cold feet being pressed against his legs.
The Ford that he loved more than anything, with his scars and rough hands muscular body that made him feel safe and want to drool at the same time.
Bill felt cold dread coil deep within his belly, and even though he screamed for it to stop, for himself to stop, for Ford to get away to run away the blue flame just kept going, the tower set aflame and burning. Ford didn't move, and everything but him and the burning tower seemed to stay within Bill's line of sight.
Ford stared straight at him, eyes so sad and pained and cold. He had this sort of quiet resignation, a slump to his shoulders as he gave up.
"Bill Cipher, you destroy everything you touch."
X
Bill woke up screaming, feeling trapped and too hot and too cold and far too scared. The nightmare kept swirling in his head, images of his boyfriend burning alive all while screaming for him to stop, to think, to - hands much larger than his own suddenly grabbed his shoulders, and the blond was shaken as he was forced to look at the scruffy face of one Stanford "Sixer" Pines.
"Bill? Are you alright?" Ford questioned, pushing long blond hair away from a singular, electric blue eye - one that was currently filled with fear and tears. He knew his boyfriend was prone to horrific nightmares, but he'd never woken up screaming like that before. And he most definitely didn't cry right afterwards either.
"I-I-I just...I had th-the...I dreamt I killed y-you. B-burnt you alive. W-we were at the one place - the tower." The tower always popped up in his dreams, a recurring object that seemed to be either a clock tower or the steeple of a church. "The whole place was on fire and I set it on fire I killed you! I've never...that's never happened before Ford."
Bill took a deep breath, turning his head to press his mouth against Ford's hand, the roughness and warmth helping to ground him in reality. Ford didn't say anything at first, simply rubbing his thumbs into the sweaty skin of the skinny blond's shoulders. After a while, his breathing was more or less normal, and he let himself be coaxed into laying against the scientist's broad chest, rough hands gently pulling his hair back over one pale shoulder.
Both of them had been through so much even before they had met in a strange little town called Gravity Falls; Bill lost an eye and spent almost his entire life in a mental institution where they poked and prodded at him until they were shut down and he was dumped into the streets with little knowledge on what to do. Ford went into a coma after an experiment went horribly wrong, his best friend lost every damn memory of his, and when he woke up he found almost a decade had passed by. When they had met, Ford was a 37 year old man with a beaten down truck, a few journals of his studies, and a deadbeat brother who also happened to be a conman. Bill had been 27, living off of his wits and cunning alone, with a bizarre ability to do things not usually humanly possible.
Ford wasn't sure when he'd fallen for the smart mouthed blond with the one eye and too many weird quirks to keep track of, but he knew, even now - in the dark of their bedroom in the wake of a terrible nightmare - that he wouldn't change a thing.
"Bill, it was only a dream. I know you'd never hurt me. I love you, and I don't care if you dream about eating me, I still will. So, how 'bout some tea to help us get back to sleep?" Bill shifted, turning his head to smile, sad and watery, but it was still better than him out right crying. Ford ran his hand through soft, long blond hair, the contrast between the scars of his skin and the silky texture reminding him of long nights where they tried to connect, failed, but tried again just for the heck of it. Poker nights where they forgot they were playing and instead laughed at stupid jokes and silly, outrageous stories. Movie nights with the rest of the family - Stan, Dipper and Mabel, sometimes Wendy or Soos or even Pacifica - when nobody questioned Bill practically draping himself over Ford's lap.
"Earth to Sixer, you in there? I'd love that tea if you haven't forgotten about it." Bill teased, slender fingers gentle against the bare flesh of the older man's chest as he traced random patterns. Ford chuckled, and leaned in for a sweet, chaste kiss.
They never got up for that tea, and instead lay curled up in each other's arms until Mabel came barging in to ask if either had seen Waddles.
Neither had, but Bill was all too happy to go run around in only a too large sweater and shorts with Mabel and her gown-sweater.