Bill Cipher was one of those beings who loved adoration.
It made him happy, genuinely happy, albeit for a short while, to be praised. To be adored, and admired. To have someone look up to him, giving him all the praise they could give.
His newest pawn heaped on the adoration, referring to him as his 'blessed Muse,' building shrines, tapestries, everything. This pawn's admiration of him was immense, bordering on a full-blown obsession.
And Bill hated it.
He loved his new pawn, his Fordsie, so much, he had to restrain himself from visiting the man's dreams every single night. No, he kept telling himself, you can't see him EVERY night, you selfish ass, he needs rest! The nights he could come and see him, however, were the best and the worst, all rolled into one.
At first, Bill loved the admiration. He'd never loved before, and if he had loved, he never loved as strongly as he did then. Just seeing the man filled him with wondrous feelings, feelings he never felt before, and never wanted to stop feeling. Ford's adoration of him just fueled his feelings, giving him hope that one day, someday, his Fordsie would love him back. It would be a very slim chance, of course, because Bill knew he was unlovable because his Fordsie had a very science-focused mind, no time for romance at all.
Hope dies, though. It always fades and dies. Most times it crashes and burns, one sudden instance that rips away all the hope a person has and crushes it, grinds it into a paste.
Bill wishes he crashed and burned. It'd hurt less. Far less.
Far less than watching the one man he'd ever loved go about his business, as he slowly realized he only wanted him for answers. In his little book, he mentioned nothing about his personality, or how much he liked him, if he liked him. Bill couldn't complain, of course, his original plan for his Fordsie was to be a pawn. But he knew he'd still do that, he HAD to, he wanted this for so long, he couldn't have his entire life's work be in vain, he had to succeed, he HAD to, to prove his family wrong, to prove that frilly pink know it all wrong, to prove EVERYBODY wrong...
He couldn't complain when his heart broke, slowly, as he realized he loved Ford. Ford admired him. As a work partner, and as a work partner only. As a friend, too, but never a lover. He would never love Bill like Bill loved Ford. You should have known from the beginning, you unlovable...
He should have known. Why would Bill be the exception Ford made, the one being Ford would love?
It wasn't possible.
It wasn't possible.
Bill realized this, he realized early, but he fought. He fought the truth away with false hope and lies, but he knew. He knew. He would never have his Fordsie, but he needed him.
He needed him.
To feel whole.
To feel important.
To feel loved.
To be happy.
To be worth something.
To have a companion.
He needed him, but he would never get him. Every second spent with him was pure heartache, seeing the one thing he needed wanted, right there, but unattainable. He loved him, so much. He continued to love him, despite the very real fact that it didn't matter. His Fordsie would never love him. Why would anyone love a monster like me?
Nevertheless, he continued. I tried to move on. He moved on.
I can't move on. He didn't need Ford.
I need him. He didn't need anyone.
Help me. This did not affect him in any way what-so-ever.
It hurts. Nobody cares. He moved on. He's Bill Cipher. He doesn't dwell on emotional issues, ever. I- he moved on.
It didn't affect him at all.
~o~O~o~
Using his Fordsie was hard, so hard, but he had to.
Admittedly, he did go overboard with his tormenting, but, he told himself, he had to burn every bridge. You're just doing it because you're a sadist.
His head was swirling, he was aware of what he was doing but he wasn't at the same time. You wanted him to hurt.
He didn't want Ford to be hurt. You hurt him, so he'd feel your pain. Admit it.
Never. I would NEVER.
You would, you know it. You never loved him; monsters CAN'T love.
I HAD TO!
You didn't have to do anything.
I had to.
Bill had to.
He hurt the one person he ever loved so he could have power. The power he lusted after all his life.
He chased his love around the multiverse and back, for power.
He couldn't stop. I wanted to stop.
His Fordsie would never love him, never like him again. So what's the point?
He chased power, because that was the only thing that could make him happy now. My Fordsie would've made me happy.
It was the only way.
It didn't have to be the only way.
It was always the only way.
~o~O~o~
He won.
Bill Cipher won.
He opened the rift. He had his power.
He proved Time Baby wrong, proved that frilly know it all wrong.
Yet, he wasn't happy.
He could he somewhat happy with his Fordsie at his side, albeit as a gold statue, but whenever he was forced to look at that panicked expression, he felt pangs of an emotion guilt that he could not place.
He decided to treat his Fordsie, give him a little reward for being so amazing. He brought him to his personal room, and unfroze him, the first (and only) statue he unfroze. He even serenaded him, he wanted Ford to like him, to join him. After all he did, he couldn't lose Ford.
But his Fordsie got so angry. Glaring at him and demanding to know why he was doing all this. Why treat him nicely but chain him up? Why the continued attempts to get him to join his gang? Why him? WHY HIM?
For once, Bill decided to tell the truth.
You know, I've always loved you, Fordsie, he said, hoping his Fordsie would understand.
He got even angrier of course he did and glared at Bill, a soul-piercing glare that caused Bill to shrink back.
"You loved me?" Ford repeated his words back at him, Bill taking a step back, surprised by the sheer amount of venom behind those words.
"Do you call everything you've DONE to me, to my family, LOVE? IS THAT HOW YOU SHOW YOUR LOVE?"
And, at that moment, Bill Cipher felt small, so small. He wondered if he could just curl up on himself and shrink down until he was nothing, a non-entity, never having to deal with heartbreak and regret, painful regret, ever again.
He could hear Ford demanding an answer, not his Fordsie, never his Fordsie, he never was and never will be. Just Stanford Pines, a betrayed man, betrayed by a being who secretly loved him more than anything, demanding an explanation.
An explanation he would never get, as at that moment, Bill left, murmuring out an excuse about duties, ignoring Ford's calls for him to come back. He wanted to go back and beg forgiveness, launch himself into his arms and BEG, but he would never, ever humiliate himself like that. The option did seem better once he considered that Ford would like him again if he did such a thing, but reality reminded him that no such thing would happen.
Reality. Even in a weird-apocolypse, some things always stayed the same. And if he couldn't change the one aspect of reality that prevented him from getting happiness, then what was the point?
He almost welcomed death, when it came. He begged, though, because of the part of him that wanted to continue on. Begged and pleaded to be spared, looking into the face of the man he loved- except it wasn't him. If he were to die like this, why not die with his Fordsie? At least his Fordsie would stay his Fordsie. He didn't want his Fordsie to die, never. He never wanted him to get hurt but I hurt him anyway. He was the bad in his Fordsie's life, the monster his love needed saving from. His Fordsie didn't deserve to die to be rid of him.
He felt regret, true regret, crushing him, suffocating him to death faster than the fire would burn him. He begged and pleaded for it to stop, for him to be spared, at least from the fire, please, please.
His pleading didn't work, at all, and he reached out to the one man who could save him, as a last-ditch effort to appeal to pity.
Relying on others' pity was never a good idea.
~o~O~o~
The Axolotl- the frilly pink know it all himself- was smiling at Bill when be awoke, as friendly as ever. His words were lost on Bill- something about a second chance, not too surprising, the Axolotl took pity on most beings. Even he wouldn't pity YOU.
But he heard talk of a second chance, faintly, it was hard to hear over the ringing and the sound of his own shaky breathing. A final warning to not mess up, and the scenery dissolved, to a familiar blue void-ish environment.
No, Bill thought, not here, not NOW!
His Fordsie was about to meet him for the very first time, again, as per the Axolotl's generosity. He wouldn't meet the charming, optimistic, funny, charismatic Bill.
He would meet the lost, alone, terrified, traumatized Bill.
Ford didn't deserve to be subjected to this side of Bill, but he couldn't fake. Not so soon after dying. He wanted to hope that Ford wouldn't show up until he had time to compose himself, but his hopes were dashed before they even existed.
"Hello?" called an inquisitive, strong voice, and despite everything, Bill's heart swelled. "Where am I?"
The man himself came up behind Bill, and he turned to look. The curious, young man from what seemed like an eternity ago was staring at Bill with wonder, wonder which turned to concern once he noticed the being's trembling.
"Are you alright?" Ford asked, his concern alone making Bill feel better. "Could you tell me where I am?" he asked again, softer this time.
"The mindscape," he clarified. He noticed his Fordsie had that look, the look when he was committing something important to memory. He must be reminding himself to ask again later.
"Are you alright?" he asked again, placing a hand on Bill's back. Before he knew what he was doing, he leaned into his hand, savoring its warmth, his body not letting him pull away and preserve some dignity. His trembling did not cease, but it slowed down, not nearly as bad as before. Ford's shoulders dropped and he breathed a little sigh of relief. So caring, my Fordsie, if he knew what I was, he wouldn't do this.
I'm not going to be like that.
You can't be anything else.
All you know how to do is fake and lie and cheat and hurt.
It's all you're good for.
"Did I do something?"
It's all you'll ever be good for.
"Hello?"
Bill looked at Ford, his Fordsie, looking at him with... worry? Why was he worried? Why was he reaching towards him, stroking his face? Why was his hand wet now?
"You're crying," Ford said, noticing Bill's confused expression. "You didn't notice?"
Crying. Bill Cipher never cries. I always cry.
He never cries in front of anyone. I never cry in front of anyone.
But for now, he lets himself. He lets the person he loves more than anything pull him closer, lets him comfort him, lets him see him at his most vulnerable. He still didn't deserve to put up with this. He deserved the best introduction. But, Bill could try again the next night. He hoped.
His crying spell lasted only a few minutes, impressive for the recently dead and traumatized, but an embarrassment to the triangular being.
"Are you alright?" There was his Fordsie, concerned over the wellbeing of someone he's never met before (to his knowledge.)
"I'm fine, Fordsie," Bill said, trying to slip back into that comfortable feeling of faking.
"How do you know my name?" A slight panic was in Ford's tone, and Bill turned all his attention onto him.
"Relax, Fordsie, I heard someone call you it!"
And relax he did, apparently too shocked to question who and how.
"Here, how 'bout I tell you my name, so we're even?" Bill offered, stroking a cute pose.
"I was just about to ask it, as a matter of fact."
"William Cipher! But call me Bill! William's an old person name."
Ford snickered at that last part. "It kind of is," he agreed. Seeing that smile, hearing that laugh, made Bill happy. He was happy. Not faking would be hard. Giving up ultimate power would be hard.
But he'd do it. For his Fordsie.
"What are you...?" Ford asked, tentatively.
Bill froze, a million answers swirling through his mind.
A muse.
A god.
A friend. That's cheesy.
An otherworldly being.
"A dream demon," he said, truthfully. "Don't freak out over the 'demon' part, we don't all suck."
Ford nodded his head politely, obviously unsure what that even meant.
"Who cares about that?" Bill said, materializing a chessboard and some chairs. "Interdimensional chess?"
Ford smiled and sat down in one, Bill sitting in the other.
"Bill?" He asked, before he made a move.
"Mm?"
"Are we friends?"
There was a hopeful- hopeful!- look in Ford's eyes, a real, true desire to be friends with Bill, the real Bill, no tricks, no faking, no promises to give him information beyond his understanding, just Bill. The being.
"Of course we are!" Bill replied, as if this was the most obvious question ever. Ford's relieved face made Bill happier than any sort of power did, Ford himself, just existing made Bill happier than anything. He needed Ford, he wanted Ford, and Bill Cipher gets what he wants, and if he wanted to get what he wanted with no tricks whatsoever, he could. He should. It'd make him last. As a friend, and perhaps, in the future, a lover.
He just wondered why he needed a second chance to realize it.
~o~O~o~
This is my first GF fic aaand I got super experimental lmao... Anyway fav+review n that fun stuff if u wanna, I've been considering expanding on this and making it into a full story, so tell me if you wanna see that or not
