Authors Note- I'm officially back! Sorry to keep you waiting so long. I just wanted to remind everyone to please review it. They are all apappreciated and I respond to everyone. If you're a guest and you have a question, feel free to ask and I will address it in the next chapter. Also, I welcome and encourage constructive criticism. I want to know if I can do better and feel free to be as brutally honest as you want. I hope you enjoy
"This is the best, Grunkle Stan!," Bill said, stuffing his face with pasta. Pasta was his favorite food (even though that seemed to change every time he ate). He looked up when he said "Grunkle" to make sure it was okay. Stan just rolled his eyes. Although, he could tell he looked pleased and there was a faint smile. He always hid his feelings. But, deep down, he cared about his family more than anything. Maybe he thought it made him weak.
Everyone was sitting at the "dining room" table. Dipper was sitting across from Bill and Mabel was next to him. Stan had finished and went to put his dish away. Ford was on Bill's other side and was slowly eating. He hadn't said a word since he came up to eat with them. It seemed like he was confused on what to do. He rarely ate with the family.
"Hey, Mabel, remember that one episode of Ducktective when we see that huge plot twist?," Dipper asked.
"Yeah!," Mabel started laughing.
Bill wanted to laugh, too. He knew that they were talking about the plot twist with his twin brother. But, he looked at Ford and he only looked more nervous and confused.
"I think pasta's my new favorite food. What's your guys'?," Bill asked, changing the subject to something Ford would be able to talk about.
"Marshmallows!," Mabel shouted, "Chocolate chip cookies! No, cereal! No, wait, sparkles!"
"Mabel, that's not a food," Dipper said.
"Really? Then, what's in your drink?"
Dipper glanced into his cup of water to see sparkles floating in it, "What the heck, Mabel?" Dipper sat back down, "You're a weirdo," he said pushing her out of her chair.
"Still not a bigger loser than you!," Mabel grabbed his hat and ran off.
"Give that back, Mabel!," Dipper smiled and chased after her.
Ford smiled at his niece and nephew (somewhat) getting along.
"What about you, Ford? What's your favorite food?," Bill asked to the only other person sitting at the table still.
"Um, probably... uh, I'm not sure," Ford said.
"I can't really decide, either."
Ford got an idea, "Hey, Bill. Have you ever tried ice cream?"
Bill shook his head, "No, is it good?"
"We can go get some if you want and you can tell me if it's good."
"Yeah! Can we go now?," Bill said finishing his plate.
"How about in a half an hour? Since you just finished eating," he said beckoning to the now empty plate.
"Okay," Bill said putting his dish away.
Ford got up, did the same, and was about to go into the lab, when Bill said, "You're always in the lab. Why don't you do something with Grunkle Stan?"
Ford thought for a moment and then, agreed that he should go do something and went to find Stan.
"Hey, Stan!," he called to him, "Want to play chess?"
As if Stan could play chess. No doubt Ford would have to teach him.
After an hour of trying to teach Stanley how to play and another hour of the game, Ford had finally decided that he was ready to take Bill for ice cream. Which flavor would he like more: chocolate or vanilla? He himself was always a chocolate person, but Dipper and Mabel preferred the original taste of vanilla. He had considered asking the other two if they wanted to join, but Ford wasn't very fond of children. He loved his niece and nephew, but three kids hipped up on ice cream was more than he could handle.
With that, he put away the chess pieces and strode down to the lab to retrieve his outdoor coat. The second he walked down the stairs, he knew something was wrong. The lab was in ruins. Papers were thrown everywhere. Books were tossed from their selves. He dashed to the table and gathered all the papers he could. He had to store them in a safe location. Lock them away. But why would someone do this? Did they take anything? Did they- The most striking thing wasn't the mess or the loud noise that was just heard from deeper in the lab. No, it was the realization that the only papers that were taken were the ones on Bill. Not just the experiments, but everything Ford had ever collected about the Mindscape. Gone. It was all gone. Who could have taken this? The code to unlock it is a complicated seven digit code. No one could have guessed. The only people who know it are- That's when it clicked. Only one person could have done this. He had the code and he would have wanted those papers. And he was here, in the lab, right now.
Ford dropped all the papers he was holding and ran for his filling cabinet. He opened the first drawer revealing a pistol. Thank God he didn't take this. Ford inched his way towards Bills former cell whose door was now swung open. He stopped right at the corner and positioned his finger on the trigger and WHOOSH. He swung towards the entrance, gun at the ready. Only.. it was empty. No one was there. How? I just heard something. And-and the door it was swung open..? They must-
"Hello, Ford."
Ford swung around fumbling his gun and dropping it. Bill stood before him. The real Bill. Complete with red eyes and his infamous mischievous grin. If only that was all that terrified Ford, but what scared him the most was the gun in Bills hand, pointing at him.
"What's wrong, Sixer? Did you really think I'd just give up after losing my magic? I've learned that there are plenty other ways to kill you." Bill tightened hair grip on the trigger. "In fact, I'll let you choose. What'll it be? A gun? A knife? Suffocation? Drowning? Or maybe you can just give up now and I'll just declare it a tragic suicide?"
Ford was still terrified, but now his eyes were roaming the room. They were looking for something to use against Bill. A weapon or a brief moment of hesitation to strike at. Anything that allowed him to overpower Bill. But there was nothing. Ford has made the room too well. Too neat. Too empty. He couldn't help but observe the irony. Just a few days ago, Bill was begging him to help him in the very room where he now held a gun at him. If only he could get to his notes and change him back. Then- Another realization came over Ford.
"You can't kill me."
"I'm pretty sure I can. I'm the one with the gun, remember?"
"You can't. You need me. I'm the only one who can get you back into your body."
"I don't need you. I can do that."
Ford could hear the unsureness in his voice.
"Are you sure you can? You don't sound very sure." Ford took a step closer.
"I have the notes. That's all I need...," Bill looked panicked.
"Are you sure you do? Are you sure you didn't miss any?" Ford stepped even closer.
"No, I couldn't have-"
In the few brief seconds when Bill turned to look at the desk, Ford grabbed the gun, reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a syringe, and stabbed Bill. Bill fell to the floor instantly.
"You're right, Bill. You're just as human as the rest of us."
