But the boy says 'No, you aren't. Not my birth father anyway' before kissing him. Where did he go wrong? Where…?
-The false Ninth Paradigm.
"What's wrong with him?" She asks but the doctor can only shrug – he has no fucking idea. The kid eats plenty, doesn't over exercise (in fact, rarely exercises). The weight loss was in-explainable. Eating disorder? Maybe the kid's teeth should be checked out. Normally left its mark – excessive vomiting. But why would the kid be…?
Doctor Marcus Matthews, former family physician of the Giordanos.
The cake box hit the floor. So did the bag with juice cartons and the chocolate bunnies Bill managed to snag at a discount price thanks to pro-haggling. And the tattoos. How much didn't he owe to these tattoos?
"F-Ford...hide and seek?"
The bathroom's devoid of anything hinting Stanford Pines had ever been there. Not even a stray grey hair. (the man had so much hair, how was there nothing left behind? He checks and checks and nothing.)
Not hide and seek. Of course, it wasn't hide and seek. Who the fuck played hide and seek with their luggage?
Deep breath. Deep breath and– what did Stanford Pines want on engraved on his tombstone?
Here lies Stanfuckford Pines: the man who would've lived if only he'd taken dick more often.
'but I'm not that kind of man!' Ford would say. Shut the fuck up, Ford.
Hands shaking as he selects Ford's contact on his phone. God, that man's smug face looking at him from his contact list. How dare he make a fool of Bill Cipher. Did Ford really think he could use him and then just throw him away? Yesterday's trash, taken out at 7am, the garbage truck beeping– fuck you, Ford.
It wasn't 7am, fuck you. Get your times right.
The phone rang. Rang. Ringing.
To his surprise, Ford answered. Dead men could answer phones now? Maybe he should give his grandfather a ring, ask him how's Hell because he'll be there sooner than expected.
Save me a good seat. Maybe one on the Devil's dick. Do they have anal in Hell? He hoped so, after Ford had deprived him so long and – God, what the fuck was wrong with him?
"Bill. I–"
"Ford, where are you?" Fuck appearances, fuck sounding cute and hurt. Fuck this.
"Calm down. I need you to calm down, Bill." Ford sounded really good for a man about to die. Shouldn't he be saying holy rosaries?
"I am so fucking calm! Where are you?"
"I'm staying somewhere else."
"Why did you leave? You said you wouldn't! You said!"
"I said no such thing. I said I would think about it. This isn't– it's not about us, Bill. Well, partially… but you have the wrong idea."
Ford's voice was sad.
"No, you lied. You led me on. You– are you fucking kidding me? This is out of nowhere! After you went and stuck your fucking freak fingers into me! Telling me you –"
"Bill, please calm down."
"Fuck you. Fuck you, Ford. You fucking liar. You liar."
You used me.
"Look on the dresser. Just look on the dresser for me."
"What?"
Ford insisted again and Bill checked: Ford's return ticket lay on the dresser.
"Did you see it? I'll be back tomorrow. That's the guarantee."
So what. You can buy a new ticket. How dumb do you think I am?
"I don't see it." He lied.
"On the dresser, is my return ticket. I left it there. I'll be back. I just need space."
…
"Bill, listen to me. If you listen, you'll understand."
Whatever explanation Ford had, it better be fantastic.
"You… tend to overwhelm me. You are very good at what you do, and it's hard for me to think straight when you're around."
Seriously?
"Don't blame me because you're too busy thinking with your dick when you're near me."
"Bill, can we have a civil conversation, please?" Ford begged, tone becoming more stern. "This is moving too quickly."
"You said that already."
"And I stand by it."
"I don't understand what the fuck that means. Just because you're getting all lovey-dovey over me, doesn't mean you should punish me by fucking bailing!"
Ford's punishments were the worst…the worst…
"I'm not punishing you. That's…that's the– you've got it wrong."
"You're so shit at explaining."
Ford sighed loudly.
"If you think we're moving too fast, it means you feel the same way. Just FYI there, big shot."
It took two to tango – or did Ford forget?
"It's not…"
"You gave me a curfew. I came back expecting to see you. For sure. For certain. 100% sure there'd be a Ford here, waiting for me."
Dreamcatcher's clip was switched to the one containing bullets meant to kill. The Cobra would be enough for Ford, but it never hurt to make sure Dreamcatcher was fired up.
Hell, it was an honour to have Dreamcatcher escort Ford to wherever the fuck he was going.
Probably purgatory.
"You think nothing of taking a life. That worries me. Not to mention your temper."
Not this shit again.
"I won't hurt you, Ford…"
He imagined Dreamcatcher winking at him, whispering a soft 'yeah right'.
"After everything's that happened, that's a lie."
Ford was looking for excuses. What a drama queen.
"What of Fiddleford?" Ford asked.
"Ugh, why that country bumpkin again? Who fucking cares?!"
"Once more, did you have a part in his death?"
"No! Christ, Ford! He's dead! Let him decompose like a good little redneck to fertilize his crops and a get move on with your fucking life!"
Maybe Ford wanted to be buried in the same hole as Fiddleford.
"He was a close friend of mine. One of the few people I trusted. You told me only a few days ago that he's dead. Do you even understand the effect that would have on me?"
"You seemed to be doing pretty fine."
"Bill, I'm not fine."
Ford's sad eyes flickered in his mind. Huh.
"You've been a good distraction, but sooner or later, I would have to deal with this. "
"Coulda sworn you were all 'oh, Fiddleford overdosing is totes his own fault! Let's go party in NYC, Bill!'
"Could you please not do this? Could you please understand?" Ford sounded so sad…
"I lost my family too, recently. You don't see me being a whiney bitch."
Old people loved to complain over every little thing.
"You literally told me only a few days ago, Bill."
"So what? Let's be real here. It's about the gun thing, right?"
"Gun thing?"
"I take out my gun for someone else and you piss yourself? But you don't care when I have a gun and threaten you? Gotcha."
Dreamcatcher laughed inside his head. It's high pitched, the sound hurts.
"That was different. And…this is about whether you had a part in killing Fiddleford."
"Ford…stop making excuses. Just tell the truth. It's because of what I told you, isn't it?"
"What?"
"I told you about those fantasies, of my dad and me and whatever…that…that scared you off didn't it? That's it?"
"No…this isn't about that…"
"Then why would you leave after I told you them? Why didn't you leave when I bailed during our talk? You had plenty of time then! But you left after you found out! RIGHT AFTERWARDS!" His grip around his phone tightened, and the flimsy gadget shatters inside his mind. So many pieces, then Ford can't make excuses anymore and Bill's only option to go after him.
"Bill…I never meant for it to seem that way…"
Bullshit.
"Then how else was I supposed to take that? How else? Did you even think before you left? The last thing we spoke about? The last thing I trusted you with? Ford, I trusted you."
"I'm sorry… I didn't…I didn't realize it could be seen that way. I'm so sorry." Ford sounded so fucking sincere. Why? Why was the man always like this?
"You led me on. You fucking led me on. It was all bullshit! What the fuck is wrong with you? Why not just be frank? Why even come here with me? Why not just kick me out of your house? Fuck you Ford."
"Why must you be so dramatic? And overreact like this? I just need time alone. I'm…I just need time alone. We've been together almost nonstop for the past few days. Give me space."
"Why couldn't you tell me this shit earlier?"
"When you left, I did some thinking."
Thinking was supposed to help you make smart decisions.
"This…I need you to understand there are consequences for your actions." Ford said.
"No, fuck you. You can't punish me now after being so nice, after being so– after fucking leading me on like this! Fuck you. You lied. You lied. That's bullshit. You have no reason to leave and you're pulling shit out your ass! Fuck you! Fuck you! Just go fuck yourself!"
"I feel drained, Bill. Just give me a night to myself." Ford's voice became weary. Part of Bill commended him for lasting this long; Ford hadn't hung up yet.
"I thought you'd be here…I thought you'd be here…when I got back…"
His eyes went to the soon-to-be abused cake and its container.
"I…bought cake."
Images of him feeding Ford cake invaded his mind theatre; the man smiling and blushing as he shyly opens to accept pastry that contained far too much sugar for any old person to be ingesting. Bill kissing him, tasting the cake, and things escalate…
If only…
"I'm sorry, darling."
"Fuck off with your darling shit. Don't ever call me that. I'm not your darling." He kicked the cake box. "I'm not your FUCKING darling."
Stomped on the cake box, pastry everywhere. His shoes are now white, pink and brown. The smell is so sweet; it's sticky and gross. He kept stomping while imagining Ford's stupid face. Stupid, smiling, flushed face…
"What am I even doing, Ford? Why am I even here? Why did I bother with you?"
The cake was now mush.
"You good for nothing liar. You stupid fuck. You're a dead-man walking, Ford. I swear to God, when I see you, when I see you I'm killing you."
Ford went quiet, but his breathing could still be heard.
"I should've killed you. The first time."
He stomped the rest of the cake, splattering it everywhere. Fuck.
"I should've killed you. I wanted to kill you. I've been dying for an opportunity to put one in your ass."
Amoung…other things.
He sat down on the bed, the sweet smell making him nauseous and agitating his nose. The smell somehow got on his tongue, too.
"I wanted to kill you, but…"
Ford's smiling in his head; holding his hand and touching his face.
"…when you look at me…the way you look at me…"
Bill's hands went to his cheek, to his neck, to every exposed bit of skin that had Stanford Pines' name on it. Imagined it's Ford's hands…but it doesn't work. Only five fingers. He needed six. (not that he could feel the extra but it mattered. It was the most important thing in the world.)
"…and when you touch me…" Thoughts of Ford's gentle touches begun to calm him. Ford's voice, Ford's eyes, Ford's… everything. Oh no, he really was… Ford whipped. 8ball was right.
Ford breathed in deeply, but no exhalation could be heard. Holding his breath?
"When you look at me, you always look so concerned. Like you're worried over everything… And you smile…a lot. When you look at me, you…"
Losing Ford would be a mistake. He's made enough mistakes, and if there was a time to prevent anymore regrets, it was now.
Bill Cipher had no regrets, but Casper Giordano did. Too many of them, in fact.
"You really… are the best, aren't you? You really are…"
Ford was still listening. No interruptions. Just listening.
Stanford Pines…
"I'll do anything you want. I swear. Anything you want. Any sick fantasy you have, I'll do. I promise. Come back. Come back. I'm so fucking sorry. I fucked up. I fucked up. Please come back."
When Ford spoke, his voice had softened immensely. "I didn't leave because of that. Just listen to me."
"You left because you think I'm a freak, don't you? Don't you?"
"No…"
"Is that what this is? Is this you punishing me? Can't you do it the normal way?"
If only you'd just fucked me. You wouldn't be so angry. That anger has to go somewhere, Ford. It has to.
"Bill, please just give me a night to myself. Just one night."
"I shouldn't have told you…about those fantasies…I'm sorry…I'm sorry I'm so weird. I really am. I won't do it again. I promise." Bill begged. "Tell me…what you want from me. I'll do it."
What would work on this man? What?
"I need you to learn self-control. Don't look for me. Just wait there for me."
"Wait here for you? Am I your fucking dog?" Bill said, raising his voice and regretting it immediately.
"Puppy, if I recall correctly."
Fuck this.
…
Ford's pet…
"Fuck off. I can't– this doesn't even add up. You were so nice… I don't understand." Bill threw in a dramatic sniffle. It'd be real if he had less self-control. "What did I do wrong…? Tell me. Tell me and I'll fix it."
"You know what you did. But you're missing the point." Ford said. "Bill, you are too clingy. Listen to yourself. You shouldn't be acting like this with me."
"You can't say I'm clingy. You can't. You-you encouraged this. You're blaming me for what you did? Are you fucking retarded, Ford?"
Sorry, Ford…
"I- I will admit I did…I did encourage it. I was too lenient with it. You are…so difficult to handle sometimes. I don't know what to do."
"It's because you're a gross old man who likes younger men. Who likes to–"
"Bill, don't do this."
"It's okay, Ford. I love gross old men. I promise. It's okay if you're a sicko. I'm fine with it! I swear!"
He kept stomping on the cake corpse, gritting his teeth. Fuck, why did he always have to come to this. Kissing the ass of some old fuck.
"Please come back, Ford. Don't make me angry. I really…I really don't want to hurt you."
"You're doing it again. You can't control yourself."
"I have impeccable self-control."
"Then control yourself."
"Give me a reason to."
"I am."
Bill let out a displeased guttural noise. If only Ford knew how much control he exercised daily over himself.
"How do I know you'll come back?"
"I will. I need you to understand you can't always act cute and have things go your way. What you did wa– why must I explain it to you?"
Bill's breath was too dynamic. Fingers too twitchy – thank God for trigger control. He's sure he'd have accidentally shot himself by now.
"Ford, don't leave me."
"I'm not. I told you – give me space to think."
"No, Ford, Ford you're making me angry."
"Do you see? You're threatening me. Why on earth would I want to be near you?"
Bill bit his lip, wetting them too, with his tongue. His mouth was suddenly so dry…
"You have a temper, Bill. You need to learn to control it."
"I can't believe you…you tricked me. You tricked me into thinking you forgave me."
"I said I don't forgive easily. Do you only hear what you want to hear?"
"You led me on…"
"We're going in circles now. I can't be honest about how I feel if you're going to threaten me every time you hear something you don't like."
"No, I'd never hurt you, Ford."
"Don't lie to me." Ford said, again using a hard voice. "Just behave. Do what I ask. Reassure me you can do as I ask, despite your desires. Despite your anger."
"Giving me orders now huh?"
"You're such a child."
"If I'm a child, why are you fucking me huh? Why are you fucking me? Does imagining me as a child when your cock is my mouth get you off? Is that what gets Stanford Pines off?"
So, that's Ford's fetish. The sick fuck.
"Bill, don't do this."
"You're a sick fuck, Ford."
Ford kept quiet again.
"You're sick. You disgust me. I-"
No, this is wrong. I'm lying. I'm–
"I'm sorry…Ford…" Bill abandoned his gun and covered his face with the now free hand.
"Ford, I'm so sorry…"
Bill flopped onto the bed, the red in him boiling violently as he cradled Dreamcatcher by his chest.
"Bill, you're upset about our age difference, aren't you? You always bring it up in a negative way."
That's…
"I'm sorry. If it bothers you, then–" Ford began, but Bill interrupted him.
"No…it's just…Ford, there isn't much time. We have to move quickly, as fast as possible. You–"
"Where's nonnino? Thought he'd be here to give me an earful."
"He's in Italy, on a short trip seeing a doctor. They couldn't do anything for him here."
"Oh…."
"–don't have that much time…"
What was he saying…? To…Ford…?
"I have plenty of time, dear."
"No…not when…compared to me…"
"Worst-case scenario again, hm? Darling…"
Bill scoffed loudly. "I'm not…your darling."
"You are."
A smile cracked through and Bill hated every second of its visit.
"Then why aren't you here?"
"I just need time to think. And I get distracted too easily by you, my darling. You know that."
Abusing that word again.
"You know what your problem is, Ford? You can't let go. That's the issue. That's why you're bringing up old shit that we moved past. Stuff like… Fiddie Tiddie's death."
"Bill, you told me about Fiddleford's death only a few days ago. How on earth can I move past it so quickly?"
"By letting go." Bill drummed his hand on the bed.
"Just let go, Ford. Stop overthinking, stop analysing every little detail. You overthink and you make up scenarios in your head. You're doing exactly what you claimed I do. The worst-case scenario shit."
"Your actions prove I'm not overthinking."
"I made a mistake and apologized. I don't know what else I'm supposed to do."
"I worried for my safety. I needed time to think. I needed space. If I was leaving you, I'd have taken the ticket with."
"You can buy yourself a new ticket, asshole. Don't fuck with me." Bill growled. "What is there to think about?"
"I need to think about us."
That answer wasn't good enough.
"I'd love to come after you. I'd find you quickly, you know that right? And when I find you, I won't be very nice to you." Bill said, humming the end. "But I won't. I'll wait right here then. If you're lying about coming back, I'll kill you."
"What an amazing way to convince me you aren't dangerous."
"I said I'd kill you if you lied. That's all. Why would you be scared of that?" Bill continued to hum, Dreamcatcher dancing to his tune. "Unless you're a fucking liar."
Bill sat up on the bed.
"If you want to call this off, then just say so. Don't lead me on."
Ford was quiet. Why was Ford always so quiet? It's a phone conversation. You're supposed to fucking talk.
"Ford, come back. Everything was going so well…come back, Ford."
"I'll be back. In the morning." Ford said. "But if you keep threatening me…"
"I was waiting…the entire night to see you again…the whole night. I just wanted to see you…"
Ford, I really fucked up tonight. You have to come back.
"Why?... after I told you about those fantasies– it's okay, Ford. Admit you think I'm disgusting. It's okay. You know what'll fix me right up? If you fucked me."
"Bill, when you talk like this, do you know how…how…worried you make me? For you?"
A thick silence fell. Ford's voice cut through it smoothly.
"You think nothing of taking a life. ...Fiddleford."
"What about that dead fucking hillbilly? Ford, you are really pushing your luck."
"You swear you had nothing to do with his death?"
"I told you…no. Why this again? Why? Every time?"
"Because your flippancy at human life has me concerned."
"You knew who I was when you got involved with me. Or was it that you thought my gang really was a fucking book club?"
This idiot.
"I don't trust you fully, Bill."
"You came to New York with me. You shared a bed and room with me. You put your dick in my mouth! How can you not trust me?"
"I–" Ford didn't finish his sentence.
"When you like someone, you sometimes do and say stupid things." Ford confessed.
What do you like about me? What…?
"What do you like about me?"
Shit, he asked it aloud.
"Oh…well, let me think."
Ford didn't take long to think at all.
"You're spontaneous and care-free. You have a charm entirely unique to you. I'm fond of your sense of humour, when it isn't overtly sexual. I find that you can be rather vulgar and it can be a bit much. You're intelligent, but lazy."
Bill could hear the smirk on Ford's face.
"You're pleasant to be around, when you aren't acting aggressive. I don't even need to say you're good in bed. Generous, too. Very. And thoughtful. You're affectionate, and seem to wear your heart on your sleeve. Very different to myself… You're a very sweet boy, Bill, when you want to be."
Oh…
He hadn't expected that. He'd expected maybe 'you're great at sucking my dick', and maybe a 'you're attractive'.
…
This was Ford. Of course…Ford…cared more about other things than…
"What do you like about me? I've always wondered that." Ford asked, curiosity changing the tone of his voice considerably.
Bill lied back down.
"You're...nice. You help out strangers and don't think anything of it. I've seen you do it. You tip more than what you need to, and you're always a little too nice to waiters. You say 'have a nice day' whenever you're done at the convenience store- even on bad days. You go the extra mile with your students, offering after class tutoring. Most lectures don't give a shit about their students. But you care. I think some of'em just want alone time with you…I don't blame them."
Bill laughed lowly. Every scene playing out once again within his mind.
"Your concept of space is wonky, you bump into things all the time. It's funny when I see new bruises on you because you can't avoid walking into the only chair in the room. You suck at shaving, and cut yourself often. You always have stubble. But I like how it feels against my skin."
"Your voice is just the right kind of deep. The kinda voice you'd hear on the radio, selling shit. Despite all your niceness, you don't mind breaking rules, or doing things for your own gain. You live how you want. Even if you try sticking to a moral code, your self-interest generally tends to overrule that."
Bill extended an arm to the ceiling, spreading his fingers and waving it back and forth. An empty hand that would look better filled with Ford's.
"I like to imagine…your niceness is you doing whatever the hell you want. It's not even you trying to be nice. It's just you. Your fashion sense sucks, a real walking disaster sometimes, but you're good looking so most people don't seem to care. Your nose is always red, and I sometimes call you Rudolph behind your back. You don't really keep in touch with your family. You're always alone, in your own world. You sometimes forget to eat, because you're so preoccupied with whatever's caught your interest at the time. I've seen you skip showering for two days straight, because you were glued to your laptop. I like those things…because it makes you seem like you exist so far from everyone else. A one-man island. I don't know… you don't need anyone. You're independent, and it doesn't bother you."
"I–" Bill paused.
How had…he ever confused Ford…for…
"You… really were watching me closely." Ford said softly.
How drunk had he fucking been?
"I'm not sure what to say to that." Ford said. "I never…I never realized the extent…I never– never knew you knew that much about me. I should've, but…"
Bill's breathing became steadier at hearing Ford's now relaxed voice. Confessing what he loved about Ford had a further calming effect. To be reminded why he liked Ford made all the difference.
"I'm sorry that I– I…" Ford laughed. " Well, you proved me wrong, that you're…never mind."
"Being so isolated… I was lonely. I had Fiddleford, yes, but he had a family he went home to. I, on the other hand…well, you know. If there's one thing I can thank you for, it's reminding me how good the company of a lover can be."
A smile itched itself onto Bill's face again and he desperately tried scratching it off.
"Forgot to mention: amazing in bed. The best I've ever had. I…miss you, Ford. Wow, this sucks." Bill muttered. "Hey, what if I took…a Rohypnol? And then you came back? Not only will I not be dangerous, but you can have your way with me?"
"You know I'm not interested." Ford reprimanded. "And what are you doing with those drugs? Didn't I tell you never again?"
Bill ignored the last part.
"What if…I went to a bar and picked up an older guy and had him wreck me while I call him 'Ford' and imagined it's you?"
"To spite me?"
"Answer the question. Would you be upset?"
"Of course. I don't want to–"
"That's all I wanted to know. So you really do…still like me…"
Bill turned onto his side, talking to the image of Ford on his phone.
"So…you're…freaked out at me killing people easily, you've been distracting yourself so you don't uh, grieve for Fiddleford's death and now it's come back to bite you in the ass and you're still a little scared of me. Is– did I get that right?"
"So you were listening."
"Okay…it's better to…be with someone if you're grieving. I won't hurt you."
"Perhaps, but like I said, you are very needy. I simply can't right now. I just…I just want time alone."
"Do you miss me? At all?"
Ford gave a forgiving laugh, and Bill accepted it gratefully.
"I do."
"Okay…that's good."
"You threatened me, multiple times during this conversation. That temper of yours, Bill. And your tendency towards violence. You have to do something about it, or this won't continue."
"Right…right I will."
"That doesn't sound convincing."
"Yeah…"
"Bill, don't make me ask again. This really is the final straw." Ford's voice was all business.
Well, his nine lives are up. Scaring Ford was definitely the wrong angle.
"Hey Ford…I won't be able to see you much when we get back. I have a lot of work to do. Can you…come back? Spend this last night with me? You can have your introvert break down thingy another time…don't waste this last night."
"Come on… I'm not a gangster tonight, don't wanna be the bad guy. "
I can't decide whether you should live or die.
"That sounds familiar…" Ford said.
You'll probably go to heaven.
"It's a song."
Fuck and kiss you, both at the same time…
"You love to do that, don't you? You're a big music fan."
"Yeah. Obviously."
"I'll remember that."
"…Okay?"
"If you had listened to me earlier, and told me this and asked me as nicely as you just did, I'd already be there." Ford said. "You need to learn to communicate better."
"That goes for you, too. Half the time you can't get shit out, Ford." Bill sighed, his phone's screen catching his eye again.
"...You look like a human owl."
"What?!"
"Your photo…on my phone. You're like an owl, if it was human."
Ford's laughter again, and Bill thought it was definitely his favourite sound.
"If I'm a human owl, what are you?" Ford asked.
"The human personification of cheese cake."
"You aren't very subtle."
Bill laughed.
"And you've been snooping again." Ford said in a stern tone that softened instantly.
"Opening the fridge and seeing cheese cake is not snooping."
"You're just like a puppy. Barking and biting, and then you have your cute moments." Ford mused. "Then again, you love being touched, like a cat. When you want to be touched, and you always seem to want to..."
"I'm whatever animal you've ever thought of sticking your dick into."
"Bill."
"My bark is worse than my bite… wouldn't you say?"
"I wonder."
Bill pictured a worried face on Ford.
"Look how easily things are cleared up when we communicate properly." Ford said. The change in the breath of his voice had Bill assuming Ford was now laying down as well.
"God, it's like we're in a god damn romcom and every five minutes, there's stupid shit happening."
"Most of this is your fault. You know that."
"Yeah yeah…I scared you, blah blah." Bill said. "If you were younger…we wouldn't have gotten this far, huh? I mean…you know…it's just…when you talk, you're always… like, I dunno. You know how to fix things…"
"I think I mentioned this to you, when you were in the bath."
"Oh…"
"It helps to date someone as brilliant as myself."
"Ewww." They both started laughing, but Ford was right, as usual.
"I'm leaving."
Oh…
"I'll be there in 15min, is that alright?"
"So you're coming back?!"
"Of course. And there's something I want to ask you, in person." Ford said. "And…I want you to know that what you told me…I don't think badly of you. I realize now that me leaving after that was unbelievably insensitive. I'm terribly sorry that I'm not good at this."
"No…you're great at this stuff…this…relationship stuff…?"
"I just imitate and re-enact what I know to work. When things go out of my expertise…this happens." Ford said. "I'll try and be more careful in the future. In return, you need to work on your temper and violent behaviour."
"I will… Hey…Ford…"
"Yes?"
"I wasn't really gonna kill you or hurt you. If I had gone after you… I think I would've just hoped you'd do that."
"Do what?"
"You know…"
"Bill…I won't hurt you."
"No no, not that. That."
It took Ford a few seconds to understand.
"Ah, of course. Then I'll do that when I get there. As punishment."
"Punishment huh? So you do like that kind of thing." Butterflies – Purple Emperors – fluttered violently inside Bill's belly.
"I have yet to comprehend how giving you what you want is punishment." Ford said, changing his mind. "If anything it encourages this behaviour. Perhaps I'll do something else."
"Tell me! Tell me what!" Bill couldn't contain his excitement. Finally, Ford was going down the right path…
"You can stand in the corner and think about what you've done."
"FUCK YOU, FORD!"
Ford laughed and Bill couldn't help but join in. How he'd missed that sound despite hearing it only a few moments ago…
"Ford… I–"
Something caught his eye. In the far wall.
"Ford..? Ford, you came back…? Already?"
"Bill, what?"
He approached the gathering dark. "Ford…it really is you."
He reached into the dark.
"Bill, Bill are you there?"
There's no response now.
The terminal began beeping.
Incoming mail…
Beep. Beep.
Boop. ∆
Ladies…
He fixed his bowtie
And gentleman…!
Tophat – perfect.
Introducing…
Cane – currently hitting the side of Ford's head.
A very special guest…
"Bill? Bill what are you doin–"
"DEPTH PERCEPTION! Have I missed you! Seeing in 3D is wild! Gets me every time!"
"Bill…?"
"Stanford Pines! The things I had to do to get a private audience with you!" Bill's voice continued to bellow, startling Ford. Far too loud, as though he'd had forgotten what it meant to use an indoor voice.
"Well not really private private but it's all I can do right now! Anyway, THE ONE! THE ONLY! STANFORD PINES FROM… uh…I forgot this dimension's name and number so…just…THE Stanford Pines! That's good enough, right? Yeah, sounds good."
Bill? It sounded like Bill, but it also didn't.
A sudden shriek was heard.
"Whoa! What am I STEPPING in? What is this? What–Ford, clean this up! Chop chop!"
This appears to be…cheese cake? I'm not quite sure.
"A new spin on 'red carpet' huh. Not red, and not carpet!"
Snapping fingers could be heard. Who was Bill talking to…? Him? It didn't seem like it.
Who else was there?
The dark reverted what the previous Bill had ruined.
You have 5 left, the dark said.
"Okay, 5 is plenty." Bill said. "Now that the stage has been swept and polished, we can start the show!"
"Bill…are you alright?" The Ford from this dimension asked, but went ignored.
Bill Cipher admired himself in the mirror.
"A real Barbie huh? Or is it Ken? Look at him, Sixer. Ever seen one so pretty? I should enter some beauty pageants! Bet I'd take first place!" Bill pulled out pieces of hair, the pain entertaining and the hair just the right type of thick to ensure a fantastic grip to play 'Bald the Human.'
"But that's all momentary gain! What matters is that I'll always be number one in your heart!"
The dark scoffed.
"Not your type huh? Yeah, figured." Bill ran his fingers across the face, cupping feels, pinching squishy fleshy. Kid was a few centimetres away from bony. Skeletal. Body issues much?
Why not just drag Ford to the mindscape? The dark asked.
"Because I'm here and I've been dying to try out this body! I came all this way here and I DEMAND THE FULL EXPERIENCE. After all that back-breaking hard work, I require nothing less than TOTAL SATISFACTION!"
Bill continued to prod his body, the tie being a particular annoying accessory. "Whoooa, covers are nice but nothing beats the original, baby."
I think you just insulted yourself, the dark said.
"Shut up, we've gone through this. Don't make me drill that theory into your soppy vapey vapourness. Because I will do it twenty ways from Sunday."
"Bill?"
Oops, nearly forgot.
Whatever was occurring had Ford terrified.
Did Bill have a split personality…? Multiple personality disorder? But his previous words… were addressing Ford as though they were conversing?
Was he also schizophrenic? Was this an episode? Ford had to leave quickly, in case Bill hurt himself. During episodes, it wasn't uncommon for people to accidentally harm themselves. Xanthar's words about Bill self-harming in 'bizarre' ways flooded his mind and began weaving themselves into what he knew of the current circumstances. Mixing a mental illness and drugs… no wonder Bill displayed such tumultuous behaviour.
How could he have known…? Or rather, perhaps he should've pieced it together.
It was best to first seek to calm the boy and ensure he didn't do anything to harm himself. If he could talk to Bill, maybe even ride out the episode….
"Bill, who are you talking to?" Ford asked, playing dumb and maintaining a calm facade.
"HAHA, hey. You gotta give me a moment here. No sneak peeks yet. Wait til the red curtains part, kid."
That voice… something about it. Having never met anyone with multiple personalities, Ford was left inexperienced and ignorant – a first for him. If there was one thing Ford truly couldn't withstand, it was not knowing; to be left in the dark, especially during a time when illumination was needed the most.
This was why the boy seemed to be so different all the time.
He had taken advantage of Bill…
"Hey, go to the mirror in your room." Bill said, the command accompanied by a loud drumming sound – fingers tapping against wood?
"Why?"
"Just do it, hurry! Tick tock tick tock!"
Ford did. Doing what Bill wanted might placate the boy, and he had to do what he could.
"Draw a ∆triangle∆ on the mirror. Quickly. Right in the middle."
Asking why Bill desired this was pointless; he wasn't in his right mind but Ford would play along for now. Ford searched for a marker he kept in his bag, and did as requested.
Once the triangle was done, Bill exploded.
"I see you! I SEE YOU! I! SEE! YOU!" Bill laughed like a maniac, again thumping his fingers almost demonically against a wooden table. Scenes from The Exorcist flashed into Ford's mind like subliminal advertising, and he hated himself for it. How insensitive… not that he could control what crossed the borders of his mind, but…(Are you scar-ed, Ford? DON'T BE)
"What…?" Ford muttered, not wanting to compete with Bill's thundering voice.
Ford had to leave. And soon.
"Lean closer, to the mirror." Ford did, unsure why he actually does it instead of pretending to. Authenticity of the experience, perhaps.
Bill Cipher extended his hand into the air, touching what only his eyes could see.
"You're older than I expected though…and the kid is younger, too." Bill said, further baffling Ford and adding to the disarray. (You look sad Ford, need me to tell you a joke? I got some good ones.)
"You're on the verge of expiring and the kid's barely hit puberty! The fact he's trying to get a leg over makes this incredibly…well, he's a quirky one, isn't he?"
Yikes.
"You a cradle-robber now? That the term? Lolita re-enactment? What is he? 13?"
You're deliberately exaggerating, the dark scoffs again. I'm not a pedophile – in any universe.
"No, I bet there's one where you get down and dirty with kids." Bill covered his mouth with a hand. "You…you…FIEND! I Sixer, we need to do something about those urges of yours!"
He's clearly a man.
"I know I know, sheesh. Learn to take a joke! You stick in the mud. What crawled into your special place and jumped?" Bill frowned, widening his eyes as much as he could. Ꙭ
"Bill…?" Ford from this dimension asked, very afraid and very anxious. The poor guy.
"Oops…got a little carried away. You know how it is. Pets are so needy. And once you bring another special boy into the picture, they get even more needy."
I'm not your pet.
"Want me to remind you exactly what you are?"
The dark goes quiet.
"Okay, back to business!"
…
"Fine, what term would you use to describe yourself?"
Your other half. ⅟
"Okay, Fordsy, he's my other half."
"Your other half? Marriage?" Ford #2 asked. "Who…who's your other half? Bill, who are you talking to…?"
"Huh… you think if we did the 'ol holy matrimony, I might get a few interdimensional benefits? Worth a look into. I could use a tax break or two…"
That's disgusting.
"Only because you peeked into the future." Bill pulled a cheek, the skin reddening. "Don't blur the lines, Ford."
"I…I don't understand what's happening." Ford #2 said, reminding Bill to return to the main event: the overdue reunion of Bill Cipher and Stanford Pines.
"Do you have any idea how hard it was to track you down? Across the infinite universes, parting through the fleshy clouds of endless primitive meat matrixes…and here you are, exactly the man I expected."
Was that– a sexual innuendo?
"Hey, don't I know it…" ;)
Enough pretentious introductions. If you sought to impress, it appears to be failing.
"Ouch."
"I– who are you?" Again, the poor and confused Ford #2 interrupted.
"Look at me. In the triangle, kid. Work with me here."
Ford #2 obeyed. As he stared into the mirror, Bill found himself laughing uncontrollably. Oh, Ford always made the funniest unflattering faces. The man had no idea. He really should be practicing his facial expressions or Hollywood would not be calling him anytime soon.
"Bill?"
"Hey." Bill said, winking at the mirror, forgetting Ford couldn't see him. Damn. And winking had taken so much practice. "I'm from a time when you and I, Sixer, put aside our differences! Literally."
"Well, more so than you…obviously. If anyone's gonna compromise in our partnership, it's going to be you. Always. And that's a constant among all universes." The voice lowered. "Don't quote me on this."
Bill pulled the hard, chapped skin of his lips, drawing blood. Nice.
"Except…you know…those ones, but no one likes to talk about those because I'm not actually in them. Figuratively." Bill continued idly.
The room service menu caught his eye. Oh yes. Exactly what he needed.
"Hold on…"
Shuffling could be heard on Ford's side of the phone, and then Bill was speaking to someone on the hotel phone.
"Send me one of everything. Thanks dollhead."
It's dollface.
Ignoring his dark Ford, Bill declared loudly. "I'm living the high life! Room service to the extreme!"
Better clarify things with Ford #2 before he thought the kid was a nutter. (the kid did have a few screws lose but not these screws)
Bill cleared his throat. "Back to you, Fordsy. Your theory of alternate universes is right. Now… just gimme a sec."
The dark moved into Bill's ear.
"Sixer, gimme some dirty secret to tell Fordsy to prove I'm an all-powerful supreme being who's road tripping across universes."
The dark proceeded to pass intimate secrets through him. It hoped its former human past was somewhat similar to this Ford's.
It seemed to work.
"Hey Fordsy, you still there?"
"Yes…"
"So, when you were 13, the first time you jazzed yourself, you jazzed it to the hot elf on the Dungeons, Dungeons and more Dungeons box cover."
An awkward silence crashed the party.
"I…how did…" Ford began to fret, Bill could hear it through the phone.
"What's that…oh? Oh. And you still beat your meat to the hot elf even today! Wow, you really do like'em pretty, don't you? And young."
Ford #2 had shut down, Bill assuming he was having a 'I've been mentally violated' crisis. In the meantime…
"So…Sixer. You turn your nose up, giving frumpy looks at this meatsuit while you go and six your one off to pretty boys? Oh my oh my oh my oh my oh my!" Bill slapped his own cheeks to every 'oh my'.
It's not like that. Elves aren't human.
"They look human! You telling me pointy ears make all the differences? Get outta town!"
I'm not entertaining this conversation.
"I'll be sure to tell the kid Stanford Pines likes him a little roleplay."
A wicked laugh filled the room, darker than the dark that held his attention. Sixer had no skin and yet Bill still found a way to get beneath it.
"You're…telling…" Ford #2 squeaked. (It was a squeak, I assure you. I'd be mortified too- oh like, you wouldn't?!)
"The truth! For once!" Bill laughed again, punctuating every 'ha' with of his hand against the dressing table.
"How is this possible? In order for you to be here, you'd have to transcend time and space!"
Dark matter, Ford. The dark Ford said to himself, but could not be properly heard unless Bill Cipher desired so. Without permission, his words would come only as hushed whispers. Hearing it, Bill switched his light on, allowing Ford #2 to hear him clearly. A bit late for that but whatever, man.
"Yes. I can and do so every day of my life, Stanford. Every single day. When I wake up in the morning, I've already transcended space twice and time thrice." The line was delivered rather defensively, and Ford couldn't resist laughing.( So easily derailed, Fordsy. You old fool)
"What? I'll transcend space right now!" Bill announced.
Ford kept laughing, until he felt something at his ear.
"Some sunny day… "
Turning around revealed nothing.
4 left, the dark said.
Ford was amazed, and smiling a smile so unbelievably big, his cheeks had begun to hurt only a few seconds in. Bill noticed. (You're so easy, Sixer.)
"I like how you believe me right off the bat. You always were quick to believe in the supernatural! The weird, the wild, the wonderful! I always liked that about you. You're a freak, and not just physically one either." Bill said, still watching Ford through his symbol. He aged pretty well...
"Where's…my Bill?"
"Your Bill. Heh. I'm in his body, so he's still here."
"How is that possible? How are you in…him?"
"I'm not human. I can do what I want, when I want! Especially since you were so kind as to join the dark side. Literally. You literally joined the dark."
Ford bore an intense look as he listened attentively to Bill, with the latter feeling rather chuffed. Ford's undivided attention…always a nice thing to have. Never too early for it either.
"Physical bodies are great but the next step, of course, is omnipotence, and beyond that…well, let's not talk about me. And let's talk about me and you. You and me. Us." Bill said.
"Not human…how? You said you were Bill, from another…world?"
"Yes, 'Bill Cipher', a.k.a me! Isn't human, where I'm from. In your world, the universe has chosen to express Bill Cipher in human form. I will be expressed in a multitude of forms until time isn't time any longer. Hey, bet there's a Bill Cipher cat out there, somewhere."
I gotta get a selfie with it, he whispered to the dark.
"Bet there's a Bill Cipher string of cans, too." Bill laughed, a laugh that left Ford's right leg tapping on the floor with anticipation of possibilities at what all of this entailed.
"What… are you? If I may ask." Ford sure was taking this well. Sure, Bill expected it but wow, this was quick.
"The All-Seeing Eye! A being of ultimate knowledge! Like Wikipedia except no one can edit me. Except maybe…you."
"Fascinating… Bill is or, you are…I– never mind. And I…? I was human?" There was a smile dying to expose itself all over Ford's face.
"You were, yes." Bill said. "You used to worship me. A real altar boy. It was cute. I mean, you know…who doesn't just adore someone who draws windows for them everywhere so they can spy on the neighbours…makes idols of them…dreams of them…gives them unlimited access to their body…"
"One day, I was just 'you know, let me give this guy a chance. Let me try a good guy for once' and I've never looked back." Bill said to the talk show host of the imaginary dating show he envisioned himself to be on. He gave a little queen wave to the audience, they cheered wildly. Naturally.
"So you…an inhuman creature…fell in love with me? A human?" Ford liked that idea, Bill could see it in all the little ways his facial muscles moved.
"Uh…sure. Yeah, why not. That's probably the only way your human brain can comprehend our relationship." Bill finger gunned Ford. "But love is just hormones and what have you! I don't have those. One could say my love is…so very pure, not driven by primal impulses left by your ancestors to get you banging and procreating."
Despite the sheer bizarreness, Ford found himself chuckling at this Bill's sense of humour. It was unlike his Bill, yet so very alike.
"I worshiped you…?"
"I was your lovely Muse – the m is capitalized, by the way. I inspired you. And a little more than that."
Ford chose silence now, digesting the new information. Bill chewed happily (on his own fingers) on the other end, seemingly uninterested.
"Why are you here? You said you came to see me?"
"Yeah. I came here, to meet you."
"Why…?"
"Selfish reasons. This whole thing… you know, I don't remember, but I never forgot. You ever get that feeling? You can't quite put your finger on it…"
Bill Cipher played with the pocket knife he'd found on himself. It was mighty sharp, and shiny. Flashy, too. Perfect for a little improvement. A chop here, slice there, dice everywhere.
He sat at the dresser, and slid the knife across his right cheek–up and down, point to point, forming a perfect triangle. Bloody snail trails were left in the pretty blade's wake, and you know how pretty things could be– greedy and needy. It wanted a little more.
"Huh…the pain is a little numb in this body. Too…accustomed to it?" Bill mused, smearing the ruby red across his cheek. This Bill's blood wasn't as dark as he'd like.
"Hey what if I…" His hands roamed between his legs, feeling the groin and inner thigh area.
Don't do that. You look– it's inappropriate.
Bill laughed, and the knife went into his thigh.
Ford heard shrieking, someone(Bill?) hitting the floor, screaming, and then quiet.
"Bill? Bill? Bill, are you alright?"
"H–hey, whoa, I'm back. No worries. Just…just had a little falling out, okay. Hang on, room service is here."
Bill disappeared again.
3 left the dark said, healing Bill's wounds.
"Okay, as I was saying…came all this way to see you!" Bill stabbed into the newly acquired strange cuisine that was incredibly small for a price so high.
"You're kinda like that great great great uncle who sends you 50 bucks every holiday season and your folks make you write them a thank you card. Then one day, you go and visit them just to say 'thanks for being a cheapskate. I couldn't afford college but hey, your 50 bucks yearly really helped me less miserable' And you say it in an entirely snarky manner they don't quite get because they're too old and withered."
"…I don't understand."
"Hey, me neither. Just because you know something doesn't mean you understand it."
"That's… a contradiction." Ford frowned, now making himself comfortable in front of the mirror.
"Whoever said I make sense?" This food was terrible. Absolutely terrible. Who could he complain to about this?
"You said…in your world…I joined you…? Can you elaborate? On how?"
"Doesn't matter. You'll just forget everything."
"I'll forget? Elaborate on that too, if you please."
"Of course. I'll make you forget. But I'll say this: I'm the ghost in your machine, Stanford Pines. And you are the ghost in mine." Bill said. "You know that theory, right? That's all there is to it."
"Anyway, I'm here purely for my own satisfaction! To meet you!" Bill made drumming noises with his tongue.
"You've been saying that. But why? You…you already have…a me?"
"Yes but you're a special you, Fordsy."
Bill began eating, loudly. Food spluttering could be heard on Ford's end.
"Can't believe I found you… "
"Why did you want to meet me?"
"Do you believe in fate? Destiny?"
"I'm…not sure."
"What about karma, Stanford?" Bill ate while watching Ford.
"Karma?"
"Do you believe the consequences of your actions transcend this life?"
"I'm…not sure."
"I'm a little early…I don't feel anything from you." Bill made a loud humming noise, as if thinking, and then resumed eating. Between mouthfuls, Bill continued.
"Okay so. For every action there is a reaction. That reaction may take occur in another time, another place, another world to another Stanford."
Bill took a large gulp out of the expensive wine he'd ordered. Not his preferred alcoholic drink but it would do.
"You reap what you sow, Stanford Pines. Good, the bad, the ugly."
"I'm…completely lost. Start talking sense."
"Oooh, getting assertive. I like that." Bill giggled, sputtering food out all over the dressing table again. "But, sense is hard to do. My tongue's pretty twisty, ya know? And you like it that way, I might add. Especially when I twist it at a very specific angle in a very particular spot up a very special place." Ꙍ
"You really are Bill." Ford said. Although the vulgarity was far more concealed, it was still vulgar.
"HA! Maybe. Hey, there was no lechery involved so you might wanna add that to your 'spot the differences' list!"
"Lechery?..."
"Yeah, when you have the meat stick enter the palace uninvited."
"Oh."
"Your kid's quite the fan of that, isn't he…? Whatever gets the light brighter or… whatever. Hey, even a worm will turn."
The kid had certainly turned – not for the better. But we can't all be rock star gods and all powerful beings made of pure energy.
"Speaking of meatsticks, I have seen yours too much, too close. It's like a sandworm with a beady eye. Yikes." Bill said, chewing loudly. The chewing morphed into laugher, food again, spraying everywhere.
"I'm fooling around, Fordsy. Your organ bag is pretty boring. If you wanna get with this guy, you need to think vaporwave, baby!"
Ford laughed, the reference was rather obscure but hit home very well. The urge to... meet this Bill in person overcame him. (it had been building slowly – who didn't want to meet an alleged supreme being of knowledge?)
Was it an option?
"You're laughing. You adapt so quickly, always did and always will." Bill said affectionately. "But I'm kind of tough to handle… not that my Ford has any trouble with handling a bit of angling."
You want details, don't you, stickybeak? ;)
"Being with me is like enduring a perpetual acid trip!" Bill declared, then took his loud voice down an octave, letting it simmer in (ersatz) chocolate velvet before offering it to Ford once more. "Hey…if you ever wanna have a little fun behind your Bill's back, take some psychedelics- need recommendations?- draw a triangle on every surface and let go."
"Are you flirting with me?" Ford asked, flattered and even a little excited. If this Bill really was…inhuman, a creature who could transcend time and space… to hold its affection like this. What could be more– oh no, what was he thinking? The same feeling he'd had the first night Bill and he had been together was present, and said night montaged within his mind. (Stanford, come on. You can't seriously fall for this every single time.)
"I assure you he is not." Someone else replied, sounding too much like Ford himself. Bill could be heard laughing in the background.
"Who is this?" Ford asked, already knowing the answer.
"Oops, sorry Fordsy!" Bill again. "He's been fickle ever since we got here. Jealously, ETC."
Bill slouched back in the chair, grinning at the dark who had leaned into his face while gripping the back of his neck; a tight-fisted hold, meant to convey an array of things only this Bill Cipher could understand.
"What is this? Stockholm Syndrome?" The dark leaned closer, the action meant to intimidate, but Bill only laughed.
"Want me to put you in your place? Not in the mood! Try later, after some soft-soaping." Bill shooed the dark away.
"Also, the hand you formed had five fingers. Still self-conscious?"
No. I forgot the extra.
"Nah, that's a lie." Bill raised an eyebrow, the act took him 3 tries. "Once a few million years past, Ford, you won't even be bothered by your past. You'll forget it, just like I did most of mine. You'll be all numb, like you've been stuck in the black freezer of outer space for hours. You know how time can make you forget. Look forward to it. Soon, I will be the only thing you know."
The dark understood. Bill Cipher's past was nothing to him now, only an occasional convenient (and very vague) sob story for manipulation. It rarely worked, anyway.
More than a trillion years had passed. Who cared about those who didn't make it? He was Bill Cipher now, and Bill Cipher had made himself.
"Back to you, Fordsy. You wanna see it as flirting? Go ahead. Gotta catch'em all, baby." Bill said, shoving baby carrots down his throat and coughing most of them up again. "Although…think you're off limits…"
"Am I there? Your…me?"
"You are. He's not too keen on talking with you."
"Oh. A shame…" It was indeed a shame. Why wouldn't his other self want to converse with him? A once in a life time opportunity? It then dawned on him that this Ford could travel across universes. He must see many versions of himself frequently; the appeal must have worn off already.
"Hmm what about Particles in love?"
"What about that theory?"
"You for it? Yay or nay?"
"It's a theory which was later proved correct. If it's fact, of course I won't deny it."
"Well, karma kinda works a little like Entanglement. I'll leave you with that."
"Are you sure you comprehend that theory?"
Bill cleared his throat, swearing off the infernal orange sticks. Orange was a hideous colour anyway, and you were what you ate. If he turned orange…
"You're…a real nice guy, aren't you? Niceness is kinda your warp-woof. Very different to my Ford. And one day, you will reap what you sow."
"More cryptic words… you're fond of doubletalk, aren't you?"
"Heh. Perceptive as always, Stanford. Couldn't pull the wool over your eyes even if I tried. Unless said wool's make-up was kissy faces and flattery."
"What?"
"Nothing!"
"The Bill I know is far more straight-forward." Ford said, earning laughter that reminded him of playground bully. Only this bully appeared to taunt him due to an apparent childish crush. The very concept of obtaining the adoration of an inhuman powerful entity being nearly too metaphysical for Ford, yet worth indulging in for ego's sake.
"If you say so, Sixer. If you say so."
"Do you want to know…what you'll reap? What your actions in this life will get you? You wanna know?"
"What will I reap?"
"You want me to tell you your future?"
"Tell me. It's why you came here, isn't it?"
"Maybe. Maybe I just felt like coming here."
"Can I meet you in person?"
Bill breathed out a laugh.
"Nah. You wanna know? Yes or no?"
"I do."
"My mercy."
In another universe, Stanford will be turned gold instead of stone.
"Your mercy?"
"Of course."
In another universe, Stanford will be the only survivor of the Pines family.
"You've seen your future. And I'm in it."
Ford struggled to breathe – the wind had been knocked out of him, somehow. What had he just witnessed? That creature…the golden thing with one eye…
Was that Bill? Was that this Bill?
"Did I blow your mind?" Bill asked, chuckling as he watched Ford's face. It was horrified, and then it was confused and then it simply was.
"I…" Ford could not answer.
"Don't worry, you haven't done anything to earn that yet. Let's hope me being here doesn't send turn everything off course."
"Was…that…you? The thing… I saw?" Ford huffed, every word hurt to get out.
Bill's laugh answered the question.
"Very…Illuminati…"
The tattoo on Bill's palm.
"I have to go now, Stanford." Bill's voice was now level and steady, alike to his Bill.
There's something at his ear–
Bill is now behind him, roughly grabbing him and pulling him into a very human embrace.
Heh. Can you believe I know how to do this…?
Bill Cipher kissed him on the lips; it's cold, the breath even colder and the tongue nothing more than a slab of ice.
-(Do you want to make a deal with me? Shake my hand, Stanford. Shake my hand.) The sensation of the kiss comes onto Ford's skin once more; this time, he feels it beneath his skin now – inside, deep inside, a place uncharted and unknown save to Bill Cipher.
(Yes, a deal. I'll owe you a favour, and you'll owe me one. Well? Take my hand. Who else are you waiting for?)
Enchanted,
Ford did.-
As they separated, a disgusted face decorated Bill's face; Ford, all red and flustered–
"Not as good as I imagined it to be. Then again, meat slugs and meat sticks aren't exactly mind blowing."
This is disgusting, the dark says. You know you shouldn't be doing that.
"What are you railing on me for? He's not my real dad. Or this Bill's real dad…or whatever."
Yes, but–
"Hey,
2 left. Wipe out, clean up and
let's go."
0.
Remember!
Reality is an illusion!
The universe iS A HOLOGRAM!
BUY GOLD!
BYE!
The dark light kisses him, whispering
Nothing like a little narcissism…
He dreams the triangle on his palm kissed him in the dark.
And told him Stanford Pines likes hot elves.
In the dark, Ford forms a featureless body, Bill following his lead – only, his body is that of a certain hot elf.
Bill's laughter vibrates through the darkness. They osculate impassively – lips meeting lips, attached to nothing. Both emitting ripples of dark that merge into one another to become one again. An attempt at an embrace sends more laughter Ford's way, Bill dissipating into the dark
Ford following.
They dance with the dark as their stage, the dark as their music, the dark as their audience, the dark as each other.
In this Ford's mindscape, the flower is monstrous, taking its rightful place at the centre of Ford's universe. It's vantablack, ever expanding, ever consuming; an ouroboros, Bill's mouth swallowing all.
A black sun ҉, emitting an iridescent yellow so bright, the shadows cast are sentient, calling themselves Stanford Pines.
The light shines selectively, and it selected Stanford Pines.
He stares at it, the petals smelling like a cologne he received once upon a time, in a universe he doesn't belong to.
At the flower's base, the triangle from Bill's palm floated, waiting.
Hiya smart guy.
"The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed."
Ford found Bill passed out, the vile of Rohypnol at the bedside table.
Why Bill would have taken it eluded him , and he assumed it was for show. Always dramatic, right until the very end.
The boy was sound asleep but still in his clothes, and sprawled out messier than usual. Being still fully dressed had Ford concerned but again, Bill would not have drugged himself if he knew Ford would be coming.
He sat at the edge of the bed and waited. Bill was a light sleeper and would notice his presence eventually. Minutes passed, and nothing happened. Then the boy finally began stirring, and he waited to be acknowledged.
"…Ford? You really came back…" Bill slurred sleepily with a cute smile. The boy was always so cute.
Ford didn't greet him, offering only a smile.
Bill crawled, dedicated to reaching his target, and dumped his head into Ford's lap. "Missed you…"
Ford rubbed his head. "Why are those there? The drugs?"
"Huh? Oh…was gonna…take one and knock out…but I changed my mind? I'm not sure…I dozed off."
Ford shook his head, smiling, hiding his concern about Bill drugging himself to sleep. So, the boy hadn't lied about that…
"Why do you look so sad, Ford? Want me to tell you a joke…?"
"I made a mistake." A thumb rubbed across Bill's pouting lips. "I made myself seem better than I really am."
"I don't get it." Bill nipped the assaulting thumb.
"You were right. You did confide a lot in me. But I just don't know how to deal with that sort of thing and I worry I might make things worse. What I did was insensitive, I realize that now."
"Ford, you talk so much, and always so…like I'm at a TED talk. Those talks Alex watches all the time…" Bill nuzzled into his stomach. "When are you gonna stop it…"
"You might think it's weird, but it's been beneficial until now, hasn't it?"
"It makes you sound like a pocket guide."
"I came here…to tell you about an idea I had. A trial run, to see if I wanted to continue this. But now that I'm here…" Ford continued to stroke Bill's hair as he spoke, the boy beaming brightly.
"A trial run huh…sounds okay."
"No, now that I'm here…it doesn't seem right."
"What doesn't?"
"Leaving you."
Bill's smile brightened even further. "Oh…aren't you all lovey dovey…"
"No, that's not it. It's not because of any feelings I have for you. Bill, you need help."
A partial lie. Ford did have feelings for Bill, but he couldn't decipher them.
Bill's smile darkened. "You sound like Evan. There's not-"
"Anger management would be beneficial for you."
Bill groaned into Ford's lap. "Are you staying with me to play fixer upper?"
"No, I like you, but your issues can be fixed so why not? Improve yourself."
"Hmm and if I do, I get you forever, right?"
Ford laughed but didn't reply.
"Forever…" Bill hummed, snuggling once more into Ford.
"Bill…I want to ask you questions that might upset you. Will you let me?"
"Go ahead. As long as you kiss and make it better later."
"Of course I will."
"Wait…gotta ask…" Bill turned his face to look at Ford. "You never told me…why you thought my dad hurt me."
"The nature of your fantasy implied a paternal figure. I'm sorry, again, for saying that." Ford kissed him on the forehead and Bill smiled sadly in return.
"I'm waiting for you to tell me."
"Huh?" Bill turned to get a better look at Ford's face.
"I know…"
"Hm?"
"Who did that to you. It was me, wasn't it?"
Bill's eyes widened, retreating fearfully to Ford's abdomen.
"You know what I mean, don't you?"
"Nope."
"You're lying." Ford rubbed his head again. "When are you going to tell me…?"
"You get frightened easily by me." Ford pointed out.
"Not true."
"You do."
"When I asked you who hurt you, you said I did."
Bill didn't retort.
"I know already."
Again, Bill kept quiet, and hid his face from Ford in the warm lap.
"Listen to me. I know what your grandfather did to you. I know. I've been thinking and it's obvious. But you haven't told me directly. I'm going to pretend I don't know until you are ready to tell me, of your own choice. Then we'll deal with it together. Until then, I'll deal with it my own way. Is that okay?"
Bill remained quiet. The clenching and unclenching of his left fist said enough.
"I want you to feel like you have control over whether I know or not. That's your private business, and I have no right knowing unless you tell me."
"You've… got it… wrong, Ford…" Bill choked out. "Never…no. You're wrong."
"I'll pretend I'm wrong then. I'm sorry."
Bill was defensive of his grandfather, as expected. Most abuse victims defended their abuser, especially if they'd been abused for a prolonged period, or from a young age. Or both. Bill was both; now when would he tell Ford?
"Let's get ready for bed." Ford said, giving Bill a light push.
Bill sat up limply, dazed and nearly falling off the side of the bed. Ford took the courtesy of undressing him; a favourite activity of his, but now it left him feeling guilty.
"I'm going to go wash my face and–" Ford said, turning to leave for the bathroom, only for Bill to cling direly to his arm.
"No no, you're going to leave again…"
"I'm not."
"You are…"
Ford sighed.
Bill sat on the toilet seat as Ford brushed his teeth. Eyeing him with lazy eyes, like an inquisitive but sleepy cat about to doze off. Again, he thought the boy was terribly cute.
"Did you brush your teeth before you went to bed?" Ford asked, knowing the answer.
"Nope."
"Then do it now."
"Yessir!" Bill grinned, staggering up.
Ford sighed, laughing afterwards. He stood behind Bill, watching as the boy brushed his teeth. Bill would wink randomly at him in the mirror, the action reddening Ford's face. The half nakedness only adding to the atmosphere.
Once they were in bed, side by side- Bill, with his arms holding Ford's left arm captive, began. "You asked me…what your kisses do to me…"
He kissed Ford's bicep lazily, thinking again, how nice the man's body was. "You ever hear that song 'Fever'?"
"They give me fever…" Moving higher, he kissed Ford warm neck. "It's…a lovely way to burn."
Taking the initiative and the clear hints Bill was giving, Ford climbed on top of him. The boy's breath immediately fluttered- excited already.
"What…a lovely way to burn…."
Ford stopped and hovered over Bill; the boy looked confused, hands rubbing Ford's skin suggestively, urging him to continue.
"I never asked you my question. Do you mind…"
"Shoot." Bill said, ruffling Ford's hair.
"Did you grandfather hurt you?"
Bill left Ford's hair in favour of cupping Ford's face. "Of course. You saw my back."
"Not those. Did he do anything else?"
"I don't remember." Bill said indifferently, looking off to the side briefly and returning his gaze to Ford.
"I thought so."
Ford began doing that. Kisses kisses, everywhere.
"What're you doing…?"
"You know what I'm doing."
Bill moaned out a sleepy 'oh'.
"You're close, aren't you?" Ford asked, nuzzling at the boy's lips while the emitting rapid breaths heated his skin.
"Huh…
"To falling asleep."
"Yeah...you…you did that on purpose, you perv." Bill smiled, eyes still closed.
"I did."
"Darling, you have to control that temper of yours."
"I will."
Ford kept kissing him; the kisses now having an ulterior motive. "And that violent behaviour." More kisses, in his neck. They tickle, and any attempts at escape had Ford holding him gently in place.
"Can you do that for me…?" Ford kissed the side corner of his lips. "Behave yourself."
"I–sure…yeah…I'll…do my best...Ford.." Ford hands rubbed circularly at Bill's stomach and the boy's body reacted in such a lovely manner to it. "If you're good…"
"Then…what? Then what?" Bill interrupted.
"Then I'll…"
Fuck you, Ford says in his mind.
"– fuck me?" He finished for Ford, hoping his mind was right.
"I was going to say…"
"Are you promising sex if I behave?"
"Will that work?"
"Maybe…"
"I don't want sex to be a punishment or a reward. I want to be something both of us enjoy for its own sake." Ford said, kissing him on the lips this time.
"Sorry…I know…you aren't like that, Ford. I won't do that anymore…" Bill pulled Ford in for another kiss. "Hey…can I lay my head on your chest and then you can stroke my hair…?"
"Of course."
They changed positions, and Bill made himself at home on Ford's chest. The tattoo was as ugly as ever.
"I missed you so much, Ford…sorry I'm so clingy…"
"I only feel smothered when I'm away from you. With you, it doesn't feel bad in the least. What I say makes no sense, I know…but when I'm away, I'm suddenly overwhelmed by a need to be alone." Ford frowned; being an introvert had more downsides than upsides.
"Then I can't leave you ever!" Bill grinned, flicking Ford's nose.
Caressing the exposed side of Bill's face, Ford mused. "We'd both be…at home in a Shakespearean play."
"Finally! You admit you got the hots for me." Bill turned his face downward, giving a few licks on Ford's bare skin, with Ford squirming under the wetness.
"You're nearly dying, Ford. Let's get married, while you still have some youth left."
"Bill…"
"Romeo and Juliet! Take two!"
Ford smiled, looking away. The boy was too much still.
"You want to…don't you, Ford? Why don't you?" Bill said, his right hand rubbing at Ford's groin. "It'll be perfect. The dramatic reconciliation! Where after an argument we make passionate lov-"
"No, not yet."
Bill pouted but his hand didn't stop fondling. "What are you waiting for?"
"For you to want me to."
"I fucking do."
"Not like this." Ford pinched his cheek and Bill tried biting the hand as it retreated. How childish. "I want it to be special."
"You virgin."
"For you."
Bill's eyes widened in surprise, cheeks pinking dark enough for Ford to notice.
"I'm going to take care of you." Ford ran his fingers across Bill's face, stroking the heated cheeks, much to Bill's annoyances and embarrassment.
"You really like that kinda thing huh? Looking after someone."
"Maybe. It might be my age. Maybe I do want to settle down."
Bill grinned, raising both eyebrows as if to say 'me, right? Me.'
"Not with you, young man."
"Aww nooo…" Bill pouted and moved up for a kiss anyway. "I love you, Ford…"
He took Ford's bottom lip between his teeth and pulled it, the man flinching at the sudden sharp pain. "But I'm weird, you know?"
Consoling his abused lip with distracting licks, Ford replied. "I'm weird, too."
"Then we'll be weird together." Bill said, cuddling into Ford's neck as the man held him.
He thinks, earlier, if he'd stayed to talk to Ford longer, he would've
controlled himself.
Ford outlined Bill's scars; at what age had this happened? Should he ask…? As his mind wandered, so did his fingers, accidentally going lower.
"Hey old man, why are you touching my ass. Quit it, you perv."
"No, I was… it was an accident."
"Yeah right." Bill muffled into the pillow.
"Don't act so innocent." Ford kissed Bill's ear, the hand now purposely fondling the curve of Bill's backside. "As if I'm the pervert here…"
Bill turned on his side, and Ford quickly pulled him close to his body.
"Hey hey… keep your distance. I can feel your dick poking into me."
"Do you like that?"
"Hey get lost, you molesting creep."
"Let's see…"
Ford's hands were already between his legs.
"Oh, would you look at that. You do like it…"
Bill started to laugh and struggle. "No, come on… Ford, I'm tired, come on…"
"Acting innocent while harbouring such dirty thoughts…" Ford whispered into his ear as he wrapped his hand around Bill's waking erection, the boy gasping and squirming in response like some virgin prince. Theatrics, as always.
"Ford, quit it…oh no…wait wait, don't stop…"
Ford's mouth is on his again, when he finishes. The kiss never breaks; Ford can't run away as Bill holds him tight in an embrace and continues to feverishly kiss the man. What a lovely way to burn.
They continue until he's very much asleep, the last feeling being the heartening warmth from Ford's mouth and eyes.
What a lovely way to burn.
But he's weird, you know?
They both are.
Ford dreams of a triangular being, glowing amongst the deep dark as a sun. The light goes on and on, fading into the darkness, where it will become one with it.
It calls him into the dark.
He hesitates.
As he begins to take his first step, someone else takes it for him. An after-image of himself steps forward instead. He's young, judging by the brown hair.
The triangle creature welcomes him with open arms, and a mass of writhing hands pull him into the lonely dark.
The triangle creature again, beckons him, but he does not move this time. It laughs, and then it's a young man, with hair blacker than the dark behind it, and eyes as gold as its previous body's form.
It's a face Ford does not recognise, but something about it is nostalgic.
It tilts its head, as if to say 'this not doing it for you?'
It laughs again, and returns to the dark.
He dreams the triangle told him his favourite gum is coming back into production.
Bill Cipher watched Ford sleep, with a cold body already post mortem and the dark whispering in his ear.
I really want you.
But it's entirely up to you, isn't it, Ford?
Meanwhile…
Bill Cipher pulls Stanford Pines' cheeks. Not Ford's own cheeks, but a Ford's cheeks.
"You fall for the same tricks, every single time! Bat my lashes, say some nice things…and you're already swooning!"
"I know…how…sad." Ford said indifferently.
"Happy to be back in a meat suit?"
"Of course not."
Yellow eyes stare into pitch black ones; the black being the shadow cast by the bright yellow.
"You look possessed."
"I am, aren't I?"
"I wonder who's possessing who…?"
Bill pulls Ford's hair, pinches his skin- "Want me to fix this meatsuit? De-age it…just a little little little? He won't know."
"You won't be helping me. You'll be helping him."
He knocks a few years off – or rather, adds a few more years on.
"Hmm, you know what? Let's mess with him a little. How old was he from the get go?" Bill asked, fingers still glowing blue.
"61."
"Okay…what age did he start to go grey?"
"Seems to be…52." Ford said, recalling memories that did not belong to him.
"Then I'll make him… 49? I'll keep his hair grey, so when the kid dyes it–"
"– it grows back brown." Ford finished the line of thought.
"Exactly! It'll totally mess with him!"
"I think if you make him that much younger, it'll be very noticeable."
"Yeah? That'll make it even weirder. Let's do this."
He isn't sure if this'll affect anything in the time-line, but hey, introducing a little chaos was always good for the soul.
In Bill's mindscape, he dances with an echo of Ford to white and red music.
In Ford's mindscape, he lays on the ground, still staring idly into the great space; with the flower's vines beginning to curl around his hand.
It's whispering, but the sound is inaudible.
The terminal is snoozing, beeping every
now and again.
Beep. Beep. Beep Beep.
Boop ;)