"Would you like to drink something now?" Ford asked helpfully putting away the fever thermometer.
"Maybe a glass of water," Bill muttered with half-closed eyes. He wanted to sleep again, but some chill didn't sound bad.
"Well, I'll get you one." The old researcher stood up and went to the door. "But you stay here and do not move from the place until I am there," he added sternly. Then he left his room and left the former triangle alone.
With the calmness spreading in the room, the blond boy began to fall asleep. His eyes closed completely and he snored softly to himself. In his sleep, he coughed softly, but it did not seem to bother him. His blond hair fell on his forehead.
A few minutes later, Ford came back to his room with a glass of water in his hand and found his enemy fortunately sleeping. At least Bill had once listened to him. The old researcher shook lightly on the shoulder of the sleeping boy to produce a gentle waking. Bill opened his eyes slightly and wanted to close them again.
"Hey, Bill, here's your glass of water," the man said softly to him.
"Will you help me?" The sick child muttered, and Ford knew what was meant. He helped the patient sit halfway straight, and sat down next to the sick boy. Bill leaned against him gratefully and got the cool glass pressed into his hands. So he could let some of the cool liquid run into his dry mouth without having to make too much trouble. Ford was careful not to have the 10-year-old drank too hastily. After Bill had emptied the half-glass, he cuddled himself a little to the brown, patched lab furniture. He just looked for a little warmth and security with someone and the researcher was also close to him. He handed Ford the half-full glass, and he placed it on the side table, if he wanted something to drink later. Bill came closer to the old man and leaned his hot head against his shoulder. He coughed a little on the old leather, and that was something the old mythologist didn't like so much.
"If it is your plan to put me and my family ..." the researcher did not come up with his sentences, because a crushing voice interrupted him.
"I need ... just something to cuddle ... A little warmth ... security ... you're perfect ..." Bill muttered in half sleep. Ford sighed for a long time and tried to get the feverish little triangle human away from him, but Bill clawed slightly on his arm and was difficult to shake off by the perfect position. He seemed to enjoy to hang on to his enemy. Ford finally gave up and took the grass-green pillow instead and put it under Bill's head, before the boy still stilled him. Then he threw the blue blanket over the sick something and let it sleep a little. Finally, the old researcher even put an arm around the blond and laid his head on his chest. Bill continued to sleep peacefully, unconsciously to whom he was lying. He only enjoyed the warmth, the cuddling, and the security. In the end, Ford also fall asleep, as Bill's silent snoring somehow pulled him to sleep. Together, the two slept on the sofa in Ford's room.
After a few hours, Mabel wanted to see how the sick Bill went so, and asked her twin brother to go to Grunkle Ford's room.
"He is surely perfectly fine!" Said Dipper annoyed. He did not worry about the old, crazy triangle at all.
"And if he does not feel well?" Mabel said.
"Then ... Then Ford cares about him, and we do not need to get sick either."
"We're not going to get sick already, and come on!" The brown-haired girl was about to open the door. When she and her brother entered the room, their eyes widened and she smiled broadly. "Oh, how cute!" She shrieked as she saw them on the sofa. Mabel could have gone out with joy.
Bill had stuck to Ford. He snored softly and snuggled to the warm leather of the lab coat. He looked so peaceful and calm. Ford had steered himself against the sofa, and leaned forward with an arm from the sofa. He also slept peacefully while holding the blond boy in his arm. Both looked so incredibly cute and sweet, as they were father and son.
"Ford?" Dipper wondered, who was standing at the door, while his twin sister was already standing on the sofa and marveled at the two. Something like that was not seen every day. Shortly after the boy's call, Ford opened his eyes, frightened, and put his black glasses right. Then he noticed the blond boy, who seemed to be getting more and more warmth and so with him.
"Oh, children," he said softly. "It's not like you're thinking now."
"This is sooo cute!" His grandniece interrupted him.
"That's crazy," Dipper said. "He's your enemy, isn't he?" He was skeptical about his big-cat, or rather; Against Bill Cipher.
"Because he's still a young child and just looking for some protection, and yes, he's still my enemy," Ford said, straightening a little without bothering Bill.
"Then, why do you hold him in the arm?" Dipper still said skeptically.
"Well, Bill has cuddled with me and it was hard to get rid of him, I had to tolerate it, so I did not want that either." The old man said the truth.
"This is really cute!" Thought the 13-year-old girl loudly.
"No, Mabel is not, Bill is just crazy and sick," Dipper took the wrong hopes.
"S-Sorry, Ford." Bill muttered half-asleep, opened his eyes and rubbed her first. Through the conversation, or rather the discussion, he had woken up and coughed hard into Ford's lab furniture.
"I also do not know what was wrong with me," said the sleepy something with a soft, hoarse, excusatory voice.
"Well, could you please keep a little distance from me, or do you want me to get sick either?" Ford's voice did not sound like joking, so Bill slipped a few inches from the old man before falling onto the sofa in the other direction. His head landed a little unsettled on the sofa, and his naked feet were now on his knees. The old professor stood up and brought the miserable heap into a more favorable position. Bill took the arm of the mythologist and tried to cuddle. Ford pulled his arm away, a little disgusted with Bill's cuddle, and looked at him a bit sour. "What is it, Bill?" He asked. The two children stared at the former triangle.
"I need something to cuddle," muttered the feverish child and tried the same with Ford now on the blue blanket. But the old man took away the blanket, as the blonde seemed to have very high fever. It was evening and no wonder, because with children the temperature in the evening always rose somewhat more. The light of the sun was only passing through the windows, and the room was darkened anyway.
"What are you up to now?" Dipper asked, looking at the patient.
"Are you cuddling with me?" Bill's desperate eyes met the frightened gaze of the young Pines.
"Never in life!", Dipper replied and wanted to leave the room completely. Fortunately, he was far enough away from the febrile child.
"What's the matter with you?" Ford said, feeling the slightest thought of Bill's forehead. He tried to keep the greatest distance as possible to the blonde.
"If you don't know ..." Bill said, but he was interrupted by his terrible cough. "I want to cuddle!"
Ford ignored the sick child's answer and took his hand from his forehead. "No wonder you're hot," he said, preparing another cold cover.
"Grunkel Ford, can I cuddle with him?", Mabel asked excitedly and looked to the sick cuddly mad human.
"No, you could be infected with him," Ford answered, putting the cold cloth on Bill's forehead. The boy was still trying to cudge the old man, but the distance between them was too big.
"Oh, please," said Mabel, disappointed.
"I will not let him infect you, but if you want to help him ... Do you have an old plush toy?" Ford asked.
"Sure, is it for Bill?"
"Yeah, that will probably keep him from cuddling us," Ford said with a distant look to the sick boy.
"Ok, I'll be right back!" Said the brown-haired girl and ran out of the room.
"That is, you really do not like it when Bill cuddles you, and I totally misunderstood," the 13-year-old said.
"Yeah, you've got the point, he's my enemy and I do not trust him," Ford replied.
Unconscious of the two, these words met the weak boy and a few tears rolled from his face as he coughed. His heart began to ache. It was a pain, because Cipher had never felt it. It was not an external pain, but he came deep inside him. He prepared tears, hopelessness and grief. "You hate me!" The boy mumbled softly, hardly understandably.
Only now did Ford and Dipper realize the many tears in his face and it produced compassion for the two. Bill was a vulnerable, sick, lonely child who only sought protection from someone. Even Dipper seemed to show some pity as he cast a worried look at the weeping. This time, however, Ford did not understand. Bill had done the same with him years ago; Just let him down, lie and leave.
"You're not five years more," the old researcher said, holding a stubborn, unconcerned look at the boy.
Bill did not know what to answer and coughed instead. The tears continued to flow. He felt so helpless and alone. This is exactly how his friends now felt.
"Here I am again!", Mabel shouted happily with a smile on her face, but she missed when she saw Bill. In her hand she held a medium-sized teddy bear for the blond. "What happened?" She asked worried and hurried to the sofa on the Bill lay. "Bill is a total crying!" Dipper said, crossing her arms.
"That's not nice, Dipper, he's a human like us now, and he's sick too!" His sister said, looking at Ford.
"You have to comfort him, Grunkel Ford. He is the one who loves you!" The old man looked to his niece and gave himself a beating. Somehow he had pity on the weeping boy. He knelt down to Bill and stroked his back. Still, the blonde looked at him disappointed.
"Hey, it's all right, Bill." He whispered lovingly to the little one and looked at him with a smile. Bill turned his gaze from the old scientist. "Mabel, give me the cuddly toy!" The old man said to his grandmother and got the brown teddy bear pressed into his hand. "Would you like to cuddle with the teddy?" He asked the blond boy and finally he was looked at. Bill nodded and finally stopped the wine. Ford pressed the boy's hand into his hand, and Bill gratefully grateful. He looked away from the old man and tenderly embraced the teddy. At least one consoled him.
"Thank you, Shooting Star." Bill whispered between the cough and the girl.
"I'll help you," Mabel said kindly, stroking slightly through Bill's warm hair.