Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Patient number 323322, it’s time for your weekly group session.”

Bill slid off his mattress, its dull color bleeding into his surroundings, sucking out every drop of light and color from the childish scribble drawings that were taped to his wall. Red and blue, now just gray and darker gray. He trailed the worker out of his cell, dragging his feet slowly toward the illuminated door around the corner. 

As he entered the room, many horrors awaited him, but Bill had already seen them all. 82930183740273 times, to be exact. Bill doesn’t look up as he takes his place in a fold-out chair, his bottom angle hanging slightly off the edge, like his sanity.

Tik. Tok. 

An hour had passed. 

Session over.

As Bill walked out of the room for the 82930183740274th time, he knew that this would never work. Therapy was never his style. He was more of a…how do the humans put it? Ah, a hands-on type of guy. He’s already given up on escape plans, trying to annoy the workers, and even pestering the Great Axolotl. For the first time in a millennium, he was just about ready to give up.

                                                                                                                 *  *  *

The Axolotl watched from afar. Aka, through a monitor in his office. Because all respectable gods have offices, naturally. 

He sighed. This was not going well. He had neither expected Bill to progress nor give up this quickly; frankly, it worried him. He rubbed his webbed fingers on either side of the bridge of his nonexistent nose, pushing up his (purely decorative) reading glasses.

Tik. Tok.

An hour had passed.

And the Axolotl had an idea.

One Week Later…

“Patient number 323322, it’s time for your weekly group session.”

Bill slid sluggishly off his mattress, his aura now matching its dull color—yellow and blue, now just gray and darker gray. He loosely trailed the worker out of his cell, dragging his feet lazily toward the unusually brightly illuminated door around the corner. 

Entering the room, many horrors awaited Bill, but he’s alre–

The room was pure chaos. A swirling vortex of purples, blacks, blues, and other colors that could not (and probably should not, for your own good) be named engulfed the floor, while everything in the room was being sucked down into it.

“WHAT THE FU–”

Bill screamed wildly as he was dragged down into the swirling abyss, flailing around desperately, trying to use his powers but forgetting that he no longer had any powers to use. His fear was mixed with his rage at the being who had foolishly thought that this was a good idea, to try and antagonize him. Out of ALL of the SUPREME BEINGS IN THE UNIVERSE, this had to happen to HIM. He was about to scream again, but it died in his throat as he spotted a familiar face. Pink skin, leather jacket, jet black sunglasses, and a grin that could rival the Cheshire Cat’s. 

The Axolotl. 

Who was staring.

At him.

Bill didn’t need to read his mind to know that this was his doing.

‘Plans change, I guess’, was the look the Axolotl was giving him, grin ever present.

“YOU MOTHERFU–”

Bill was sucked down into the portal without another word, leaving the Theraprism as quiet as it was before. The Axolotl snapped his fingers, and everything was in place once more. He then opened the door, letting the regular patients into the room. 

“No Bill today?” The nurse drawled lazily, popping her eyes out of her sockets toward the Axolotl in acknowledgment. 

“Bill’s taken a little... field trip. He won’t be back for a while.”

The nurse rolled her eyes back into her sockets as she glazed over the names on her clipboard, crossing out Bill’s and writing in its place: 

Probably won’t come back.

The Axolotl nodded at her, leaving the room and choosing to ignore what she wrote on the clipboard. After all, he had complete faith in Bill! 

Kinda. 

Sorta.. 

Maybe… 

Ughhh, what was he thinking?!

He flopped down in his desk chair and sighed, taking off his (very stylish, might he add) sunglasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose area some more, where a headache was starting to form. Hands instantly wrapped around him, their minty green coolness jolting his mind out of its troubles.

“My love, what seems to be troubling you?” Spoke a deep voice, its breath fresh and sweet like peppermint, filling the air with its calming scent.

The Axolotl spun around in his chair, turning to face his husband, smiling and frowning at the same time.

“Uh, why is your face doing that?” The other axolotl chuckled, a twinkle in his eye.

“I just sent Bill to the human realm.”

“Oh.”

“As a human.”

“ Oh. ”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Did… you plan it or did you just… decide?”

The Axolotl flopped his head down on his desk and mumbled, “I really should have done it sooner, I was just–”

“Afraid?”

“Yes. I just had a lot of–

“Self-doubt?”

The Axolotl chuckled, “Yes, and must you finish all of my sentences, Sahl?”

“Naturally, dearest,’ Sahl replied, kissing the Axolotl lightly on his forehead. “You made the right decision; it was time to let Bill go. Therapy wasn’t working for him, and I have a feeling he’s more of a– ah, what do the humans call it? Oh! A hands-on learner.”

The Axolotl looked through his monitor, watching Bill fall through the portal toward the human realm. I sure hope Sahl is right…

“AHHHHHHHHH–”

Bill shrieked as he fell from the sky, his limbs hitting the ground, splaying out in different directions. 

“Ughh,” Bill groaned, rubbing his head– 

WAIT. 

HE HAS A HEAD.

Bill looked down at his body in horror. Two arms. Two legs. A round head. A long body. He touched his face in a panic, feeling for his eyes. Whew, he let out a sigh of relief, knowing that he still only had one eye. The other side of his face contained an empty socket, a hole so black that it looked like a shadow had taken up permanent residence within his skull. 

Bill caught his breath quickly and looked over the rest of his body. 

“What the–”

He was wearing clothes. A loose-fitting white t-shirt, baggy light-wash denim cargos, and a pair of white tennis shoes. He laughed. So, Axie sent me in style! 

Little did Bill know, the Axolotl had also dressed a seemingly middle-aged man like a teenager. 

Bill decided to take a step forward. That was a mistake.

His feet slipped from under him, causing him to faceplant in the mud in front of him. Bill looked up, face caked in mud, but then promptly started to slide down the slope he had landed on. He tumbled straight through a bush, the leaves snagging his hair. Bill couldn’t see as he flailed around more, scraping himself on some rocks as he continued down the slope, this time falling into a thorn bush. Thorns scraped Bill’s face as he managed to stand up, but he ended up tripping on a root, barely catching himself before a tree branch smacked him in the face.

“OWW–” 

Bill hardly had time to register the torture he’d just endured before he fell into yet another bush, this time with bright red berries on it. After being bloodied and berried by the bush, he rolled through some more dirt before being tossed off a small cliff and onto a tree below. The branches jostled Bill around, smacking him in every direction until he was flung off into the distance, where he then slammed into a very familiar window.

He groaned in pain as he rolled ungraciously off the roof of whatever building he had just landed on, plopping face-first onto the snow before the front door. 

That was it.

He was going to kill that Axolotl.

THUMP!

Mabel woke up suddenly, looking at the window in shock as she saw a man slide off the roof of the Mystery Shack and tumble down toward the ground.

“DIPPER OH MY GOD A MAN JUST FELL OFF THE ROOF!” She jumped off her bed, suddenly energetic, and shook her brother awake.

“Hrgmm,” Dipper groaned groggily, blinking his eyes, “Five more minutes…WAIT, DID YOU JUST SAY A MAN FELL OFF THE ROOF ?!”

“YES! Weren’t you listening ?!”

“NO, I was ASLEEP!”

Dipper and Mabel leaped out of their beds and rushed down the stairs to wake their grunkles.

“GRUNKLE STAN! GRUNKLE FORD! A MAN JUST FELL OFF THE ROOF!” The twins yelled, running and jumping around the Shack. 

Ford yawned as he came out from behind the vending machine, still wearing his red turtleneck and coat, his dark circles ever-present. 

“Did you just say a man just fell off the roof?” Ford questioned, looking at the twins skeptically.

“Yes!” They shouted in unison.

“Well, let’s go see who this joker is,” Grunkle Stan came down from the stairs with a devious grin, robe on and brass knuckles gleaming. 

The four of them made their way slowly to the door, opening it and bracing themselves against the cold wind that stung their faces. They expected a threat. What they got was so much worse. And so much more… complicated.

A man was lying face down in a pile of snow, wearing a baggy white shirt and pants.

“What the–!” Stan growled in confusion, taking a step closer to the man. “Is this even a man? Or a boy?? Or a man-child???” 

Ford gingerly stepped toward the man. “Is he… dead?”

The man groaned.

Ford backed away.

“Nope, definitely not dead.”

Mabel rushed forward, concerned, “Come on, guys, he's probably hurt!” She struggled to flip him over, despite his small frame, and eventually got him onto his back. Everyone gasped. His matted blonde hair flipped over to reveal a missing eye– and the soulless socket staring back at them. He definitely wasn't a boy, and he was at least in his late fifties, but for some strange reason, he still looked very young. Suddenly, his other eye twitched open.

“AHH!” Everyone flinched backward, spooked at the man’s sudden awareness.

The man immediately sat up, his remaining brown eye darting around until it landed on the Pines family. 

He stared.

They stared back.

Silence. 

Bill woke up to the sound of voices, his one eye opening at once. He heard shrieks as the voices backed away from him. He sat up swiftly, taking in his surroundings, trying to hold himself together through the pain. His breathing was heavy as his eye finally focused on the faces that the voices belonged to. He froze. 

It was them.

The Pines. 

Mabel, Dipper, and Stan all stared at him in confusion.

No, no, NO! I can’t be back, it–, it– ISN’T POSSIBLE! He scrambled away from them, his body moving on its own, the fear taking over. He tried to use his powers, but he had forgotten again. There were no powers left to use. 

“N–” He bit his tongue, quickly swallowing his words. I can’t say anything! They can’t recognize me! He thought desperately, They can’t know who I am, they’ll kill me! I don’t know what I am or who I am and I can’t DIE I CAN’T DIE NOT YET–   

A strong hand grabbed Bill’s wrist, grounding him and stopping him from retreating farther into the tree line. 

“Hey, hey. Look at me. You’re safe now. We won’t hurt you.”

Bill’s eyes widened. 

He felt anything but safe.

His heart raced and his mouth opened in shock and fear as he looked Ford Pines dead in the eyes. His breathing quickened to an unhealthy rate as he tried to pry his wrist free from Ford’s grasp but his thoughts were going too quickly and–

He passed out. 

Bill woke up to something resting on top of his body, something very warm and very heavy. His eyes shot open, body shooting off the couch and kicking off some… blankets? What– “OW–” he slapped his hand over his mouth, biting down on his cheek despite the pain coursing through his bones. He looked to his left and froze. 

Ford was watching him intently, and Bill almost passed out again before he realized that he needed to figure out what he was doing here and what the Axolotl wanted from him. While also trying to keep his mouth shut. 

Easy? 

Yeah, right. 

But it’s better than dying. Soooo, he had to at least try.

“So,” Ford began as Bill recoiled at the sound of his voice. Ford stopped. This man has obviously experienced some kind of trauma, so I shouldn’t antagonize him, but…. Ford didn’t want to frighten this man, but he needed answers. So he pressed on. Delicately.

“Um, let’s start with a simple one. What is your name?”

Bill stiffened. Haha! Aw, shit, I wasn’t expecting him to interrogate me right off the bat! Classic Sixer! He laughed it off inside his head, but he was panicking. What should I write? Ummm, what are some human names? Geoffrey? David? Bill? OH my AXOLOTL NO, that’s my REAL name! UGHH WHY IS THIS SO HARD?!?!? After shuffling through a few more names, a lightbulb went off in his head. A plan began to form:

Step 1: Pretend he can’t speak for some reason, so his identity is not revealed, and they don’t kill him.

Step 2: Convince the Pines to trust him so they don’t kill him.

Step 3: Figure out why the heck the Axolotl sent him here and then maybe kill him afterward.

Step 4: … 

Whatever, Bill thought, it doesn’t matter as long as this name sells. Bill picked up the nearest piece of paper and pen and scribbled down a couple of letters. Ford picked up the paper, clearly intrigued by the lack of a verbal response from the mystery man.

Ford stared at the scrap of paper in his hand. Bill wrung his fingers. Maybe it was too obvious? He started to worry a little until Ford looked up at him with a satisfied expression. WHEWWWWW, that was too close, Bill breathed out silently in relief. 

“Do you have a last name?”

Bill was about to strangle this man. OH MY FUCKING AXOLOTL FORD COULD YOU SHUT UP AND LET ME PLAN FOR FIVE WHOLE SECONDS, JEEZ! Bill took a deep breath, putting his mind to work as quickly as humanly possible, or as fast as whatever the heck he was right now. 

Bill handed another piece of paper to Ford, who practically burned a hole into the paper with his eyes until he finally gave up and asked, “Uh, how would you pronounce this?”

Bill gave a little shrug as if saying, ‘Figure it out yourself!’

Ford seemed to get the message and decided that his last name was just exotic.

“Where are you from?” Ford asked, opting for a different kind of question.

Bill chose that moment to suddenly have amnesia, giving Ford another small shrug. He wrote:

Dunno. Can’t remember.

Ford sighed. “Well, at least you remembered your name.” 

GrrOowwwLLLL!

Bill looked down at his new body in disgust. A strange cramping feeling had begun to grow in his midsection, slightly familiar from when–

He caught Ford staring at him again. 

Bill’s face heated, sharp words forming on his tongue. He opened his mouth but instantly shut it, suddenly remembering that his life was on the line. Resisting the urge to snap back, he resorted to a piercing glare instead. He growled under his breath. This was SO. FUCKING. HUMILIATING. 

“Um,” Ford began hesitantly, “are you… hungry?” 

It was Bill's turn to stare. Hungry? Isn’t that why humans stuff meat into their faces all the time– His thoughts came to a halt. The Axolotl couldn’t possibly have–no, he couldn’t– Bill looked at his hands, which were shaking. He couldn’t have turned me human, right? Right? RIGHT?! Bill was now spiraling down the existential hole of terror that was ever so conveniently placed right in front of him and– Ford’s voice yanked him out of his rabbit hole like a lifeline.

“Uhm, I’ll just get you something to eat…” he trailed off, backing away towards the kitchen. 

Bill steadied his breathing. Okay, whew, little PANICKY there, but now that the doofus is gone, I can finally think about what the HELL I’m DOING HERE. He decided to break it down step by step. Okay, so, first, Axie, that asshole, tricked me and sent me to the human world AS A HUMAN, for… some unknown reason. Bill glanced around. And he sent me here, of all places. Why? 

Bill suddenly felt another pain, but this one he remembered. He sprinted to the bathroom down the hall and quickly relieved himself. 

Drying his hands on the fluffy red towel, he opened the door… 

Only to find Ford right on the other side.

Bill flinched as Ford jumped back from him, startled and embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, I–I–didn’t know you were in here, I-I mean– I was looking for you and I just thought that yo–you might be in here and I–” he stuttered, obviously flustered. Ford looked up at the man, but… he was… 

Ford’s eyes widened as he saw the man smiling at him, almost laughing at his clear bewilderment. 

Bill had forgotten how absolutely hilarious this man was! He held back his laughter as he looked at Ford, who was still a little red in the face. It was almost… 

No, Bill thought, shaking his head, turning away from Ford’s cherry-colored face. I… can’t. Not again…

Ford cleared his throat, his gruff voice returning, “I made you lunch. It’s in the kitchen. Just… follow me.” 

Bill crept out of the bathroom, following Ford warily toward the kitchen. As his foot crossed the threshold, a warm smell greeted him. What… is that? 

“Here.” 

Ford pulled out a chair for Bill at the circular table, its soft wooden color melting into the rest of the Shack. Bill took the seat, looking around.

“The others went out,” Ford said casually, “buying holiday gifts and having fun, et cetera, et cetera.”

Bill whipped his head around, gaze boring into Ford. How the hell did he know what I was thinking?! Am I that obvious? 

“Were you actually thinking that?” Ford chuckled, “I was just making an educated guess!”

“Hmph,” Bill slumped back into his chair, a slight smirk on his face. Nerd.  

Ford almost shot out of his chair at the little noise, but he didn’t want the man to freak out any more than he already had.

Bill eyed his food. 

Two obtuse triangles lay neatly on a white plate, and a bowl of (maybe blood?) sat to its right. The triangles were slightly browned, with yellow sludge oozing out of them. The red (blood?) stuff also looked a lot like ooze. Bill was definitely suspicious, but he decided to throw caution to the wind.

Bill had only ever had food twice, and both of those times were through possessing Ford. The first time was a cup of coffee. Was that technically eating? Probably not, but he’d never make that mistake again. Ford drank his coffee so dark that it almost burned a hole in Bill/Ford’s stomach, which prompted him to immediately spit it out. The second time was when Bill had found (and totally not killed earlier…) a dead body in the woods. He had taken off a chunk of meat from the human and had tasted it experimentally, but it wasn’t great. Humans were overrated in every way possible, even taste-wise. He wasn’t sure that even counted as food.

There was never a third time. 

And now that he thought about it, there was never a first or a second.

Booze didn’t count.

Back in the present, Bill picked up one of the triangles and was about to shove it into his eye, but he paused midway. Shit. I forgot how humans eat. 

He tossed the triangle back down on his plate moodily, slouching back against the chair and crossing his arms across his chest. 

“You do know what food is, right?” 

Bill rolled his eyes at Ford’s ridiculous question, settling on giving him an annoyed glare.

Ignoring Bill’s expression, Ford looked at him with concern. Maybe he thinks it’s poisoned? He thought pensively. I mean, he could have been abused… 

Ford took the seat across the table from Bill and picked up the other slice of grilled cheese, taking a bite. 

“Mmm, see? Delicious! Not poisoned!”

Bill gaped at Ford, his jaw dropping. Poisoned?! Why in Axolotl would he think it would ever be poisoned?! Wait, IS IT POISONED?

Ford noticed Bill’s expression and could practically see the hole Bill was going down. 

“No, no, sorry, I just thought that’s why you weren’t eating, it’s not actually poisoned, I–I just”

Bill snapped out of his daze, giving Ford a hard look. He was about to slap Ford if he kept apologizing. 

Now knowing how to eat, he took a bite of the triangle sandwich. Bill’s hand trembled. It was some damn good food. He scarfed it down like a wolf eating a rabbit, tearing into his food savagely and without remorse.

“It’s called a grilled cheese, oh– wait, did you already know that?” Ford was talking animatedly, happy to have finally made some progress with the handsome man who fell from the sky– wait, what– He cleared his throat, suddenly aware of how the man was practically inhaling his food.

“Hey, hey, slow down there! You don’t want to get a stomachache.”

Bill looked up at Ford with a snarky glare, cheese dangling out of the corner of his mouth, his brown eyes catching the morning sun and illuminating his face.

Ford’s face flushed a light pink. He’s… cute. He caught himself. Oh, shut up, Stanford, and stop being pathetic! Falling for the first handsome man who fell out of the sky since– He winced at the memory. Still not okay.  

The man was still glaring at him intensely.

Ford took the slice of grilled cheese he had taken before, tore off the chewed bit, and told Bill, “You can also dip it in the tomato soup, like this.” He took the half of the sandwich and soaked the edge delicately in soup, offering it to the stranger. 

Bill eyed it skeptically but took it anyway. He didn’t have any reason not to trust Ford right now, especially with his identity concealed. He raised the edge of the grilled cheese to his mouth and took a small bite, chewing slowly. 

Bill’s whole body warmed up without warning, his eyes widening and his lungs filling with air. He greedily drank the soup as if it were the last thing he’d ever eat, but even still, all he could think about in this moment was his mother. Her kind, soft, warm face contrasted against his dad’s firm but loving expression. He missed them, he realized painfully. 

And he would never see them again.     

Bill kept eating, not noticing the shimmer of liquid in the corner of his eye. It rolled down his face, and as it did, he touched it carefully. Did I get soup on my face? He thought, wiping his mouth clean, but it became clear to Bill that this was something else. He scoffed, trying to rub whatever it was off his face. It didn’t go away, though. It just kept coming.

Definitely some form of abuse, Ford thought to himself, trying not to stare at the man too much while he ate. He was definitely more than a little concerned, though. Seeing someone cry and eat at the same time is quite a rare sight and not one to be taken too lightly. 

“Are…you okay?”

Bill’s head shot up, his hand moving frantically to wipe away all the wetness, but it wouldn’t dry, and his face just kept getting wetter. He scrubbed his face harder and more violently, trying to get rid of this unfamiliar sensation.

Ford grabbed the man’s wrist. “You’re going to hurt yourself!” He said, voice distressed, “Here, take this instead.” Ford reached into his pocket and pulled out a brick-red handkerchief, handing it to the man.

Bill turned away from Ford, taking the cloth and trying to move farther from his pitiful gaze, but he was unable to escape it. He looked at the handkerchief blankly. Ford looked back at him and made a gesture with his hands. Bill suddenly knew what he was experiencing. He lifted the handkerchief to his face and dabbed his eyes and face gently, as he had seen his mother do, oh so many times. He was crying. Bill Cipher had just cried for the first time in his trillion-year existence. 

These were tears. 

And he hated it. 

Bill finished wiping his face with the handkerchief, laying it down softly. He stared emptily at the dull brown table. Was he… stuck here? For the first time in a millennium, he was beginning to feel something he hadn't felt in a while. Hopelessness. 

What was he going to do? 

Ford was standing off to the side, also panicking a little. A stranger shows up out of nowhere who can't speak, is missing an eye, seems to be suffering from abuse, and is now staring intensely at what was probably the most boring table in the multiverse. 

What was he going to do?

Chapter Text

William Pusczhle. 

That was the name of the mystery man who had seemingly fallen from the sky, or in his case, the roof. Ford struggled with the pronunciation of his last name; it was truly a puzzle!

A week had passed, and the holidays came and went without any drama. William was dead silent throughout it all, and hardly ever came out of the spare room they’d found for him. More like, Mabel had found by snooping some more. 

Ford’s room was right next to his, and he’d always hoped to hear William say something in private, a word or even a whisper, but it seemed as if the man was incapable of sound. Or just... incapable of turning sounds into words. Or just words in general. Who knows?

Ford knew he was getting desperate, and he could only think of one other thing he could try. He didn’t entirely trust William, nor did he even know why he cared so much about him, but it was gnawing at the back of his mind, and no mystery could go unsolved. For old times’ sake… he was going to call in the twins. This was going to be a long day…

                                                                                                            *  *  *

Bill sat cross-legged on his bed, staring at his reflection. One brown eye stared back at him, light brown with gold flecks, his pupil more of a subtle slit than a circle. His dirty blonde hair was freshly washed and fluffy, covering his missing eye. Bill’s hand brushed over his surprisingly soft, golden-colored skin, and he ran his fingers through his hair for what felt like the millionth time.

He uncrossed his legs, writhing around on his bed in frustration before he flopped down in defeat, letting out a comically large sigh. The entire Pines family is so fucking ANNOYING , Bill fumed, his thoughts becoming increasingly angrier. He didn’t even know where to begin! 

First off, there was Dipper. Bill had had a small glimpse into his life when he possessed him, and boy, he was never going in that body again! Sweaty and annoying, Dipper was your typical pubescent teen boy. He would not shut UP about mysteries and running tests, and he would always trail after Ford like a sad, abandoned PUPPY. It’s probably all he ever thought about! Plus, it was hilarious to watch, and yet so utterly PATHETIC at the same time. The fact that Dipper was Ford’s mini-me probably didn’t help much either.

Secondly, there was Stanley. And boy, did Bill HATE Stanley Pines. Your typical meathead, Stanley Pines was a low-brow, one-trick, smug-face, clown-shit, potato-sack, guilt-ridden, twice-life-ruining, insecure, con man. And on top of that, the biggest man-child Bill had ever seen. He wondered if Stanley had ever taken anything seriously in his entire LIFE . His fists curled into balls as he remembered the look on Stanley’s face when he’d punched Bill into oblivion. Even though he was Ford's brother, Bill would never forgive Stanley. Never. Especially for ruining Ford’s life. Bill paused to think about something. If Stanley hadn’t ruined his life… would we have ever met? WHATEVER, I STILL DON’T FORGIVE HIM. Bill hmphed, crossing his arms in defiance against his thoughts. Back to his rant. Bill took a deep breath and let it out. 

Lastly, and worst of all, there was Mabel. 

She was the most self-centered, shallow, and one-dimensional girl Bill had ever met. Always going on about me, me, me, and boys, and hair, and her friends. Never once did she stop to think about her family or anyone other than herself. She was just like her brother! Hah, the Pines family and their one-track mind! Genetics both amaze and disgust me! Bill shuddered. Mabel was so cheerful and happy that it hurt Bill to even look at her, and he hated that. Bill was repulsed by the mere thought of being around her, let alone living with her. That was actually torture. He wouldn’t say it was as bad as the Theraprism, but it was definitely up there on the long list of torturous things Bill has experienced.

Bill sighed again, for these were the reasons he’d been avoiding the Pines family this entire week, despite it being some kind of “yearly celebration”. Sounded overrated as fuck if you asked him. 

Bill was just about to close his eyes and go back to sleep out of sheer boredom, but he heard a knock on his door.

It was Ford. 

Ignoring the shitty little hurty feeling in his chest, Bill knocked back three times, letting Ford know it was okay to come in. 

As Ford opened the door, Bill tried hard to keep his face unreadable, until he saw two more familiar faces.

It was them.

Dipper and Mabel.

With the most annoyingly sincere smiles on their faces. 

Bill’s impressively impassive expression suddenly turned into the most conspicuous frown in all of the multiverse. 

This is going to be a long day…

                                                                                             *  *  *

“Ummm, so, how… are you?”

Dipper and Mabel sat awkwardly on the bed on either side of William, not entirely knowing what they were doing there. As far as they knew, Ford had asked them for a favor: Get to know him, get him to talk. Get him to open up. 

Obviously, Ford trusted this stranger enough to let them talk to him, so that meant… something. So, the twins were going to do what twins do best: try their best to get along with him. And get him to talk or speak, and, or just– whatever the heck Ford wanted them to do! How were they supposed to know?! They were kids! Were they supposed to make him feel comfortable here? Probably??? Make him happy? Sure, if you can stop a raincloud from raining. Keep him relaxed? He seemed more depressed than relaxed, and he definitely didn’t seem stressed… OR DID HE?! At this point, they gave up on what Ford wanted and just tried to make small talk with William.

Dipper’s first attempt was very unsuccessful, so Mabel decided to give it a shot. 

She put on her best, most shiny smile and asked the man, “Sooo, heyy, how’s it going? Life and such?”

The man gave her the most vicious side-eye she’d ever seen. 

“Fine, jeez, be that way, I guess,” Mabel stormed out of the room, but Bill could see a tear roll down her cheek. 

Pathetic… Bill thought, but somewhere deep inside of him, a small knife had been stabbed and twisted into his heart. 

Dipper looked like he wanted to follow his sister, but his eyes returned to William. He couldn’t let Ford down, no matter the…circumstances. 

“Uh, would you like to meet Soos? He’s… really nice,” Dipper said, now avoiding eye contact completely, treating Bill like a skittish stray cat he’d found in a gutter somewhere in the ghetto on a rainy afternoon.

Soos, Bill pondered it for a moment, not noticing Dipper’s (strange) new tactic. He could possibly be of use… somehow. Bill pretended to think about it longer, trying to look mysterious, but he was bored out of his brain. 

William got up, looking at Dipper expectantly. After you, he seemed to say, gesturing toward the open door. Dipper took this as a good sign, and with a smile, the two of them went downstairs.

“Hey, dudes, what’s up–” Soos stopped at the sight of the stranger. “Wait, who’s he?” He gave William a good look. 

“Hmmm……” Soos scrunched up his face and narrowed his eyes. “I’ve seen him somewhere before…”

Bill flinched a little. This neanderthal of a man can’t possibly recognize me! Can he? Fuuu– Bill saw Dipper looking at Soos hopefully. Bill was about five seconds away from leaping out the side window before Soos said, “Oh, never mind. " He looked directly at Bill, “Hey dude, whatever you did, it’s all cool, okay? I mean, you're here now, so don’t worry about it.” Soos laughed, patting William on the shoulder.

That entire conversation was so highly suspicious that Bill wondered for a minute if Soos actually did know who he was. Nah, he’s too dumb to figure that out! He tried to eat his own pants once! He breathed a short sigh of relief, hoping that Dipper didn’t notice his momentary panic. 

“Soos, this is William, and he’ll be…staying with us for a while. He doesn’t know where he’s from or his past, and we think he might have amnesia or possibly…” Dipper lowered his voice. “Been abused.”

Bill didn’t know what this abuse stuff was, but it sure as shit didn’t sound good. He waved his hands, making an X symbol and shaking his head. 

Dipper and Soos whipped their heads around. 

“Wait, so you haven’t been abused? How do you know? Did they erase your memory? Was it the blind eye?! Or someone else?” Dipper was throwing questions at Bil faster than he could wave his hands. 

Ignoring Dipper momentarily, Bill looked around, searching for a pen and paper. He walked over to the front desk and found a slightly crumpled piece of paper and a blue ballpoint.

Picking them up, he wrote:

No abuse.

Bill hoped he hadn’t been too vague. Or was he not vague enough? Dipper picked up the paper, staring at it as if it would give him all the answers. Kinda like Ford… Bill mentally slapped himself, forcing his stupid brain to shut up. 

Dipper finally looked up from the piece of paper. “So, lemme get this straight.” As if two words were that complicated, Bill scoffed.  

“You haven’t been abused, and no one has hurt you? At all?”

Bill glanced at the pen in his hand. Taking the paper back, he began to write another message. Dipper and Soos looked intently at him, and he really wished they wouldn’t. 

What exactly is

Bill crossed the words out.

Describe abuse.

Bill winced slightly at Dipper’s expression. Was he supposed to know what abuse was? Meanwhile, Dipper was still shocked at how much the stranger didn’t know. Maybe he’s an anomaly, or a creature of some kind, or AN ALIEN! His brain started running through a million theories before he realized that William was still somewhat patiently waiting for a reply.

“Oh, uh, abuse is like when someone hurts you, intentionally, and usually it doesn’t stop. It can be physical, emotional, or mental, and usually involves some type of violence…” Dipper trailed off.

Bill took up the pen again.

No abuse. 

Dipper and Soos sighed in relief but took a second glance at William, who was staring off into the distance, his mind far away. Let’s just say they… weren’t convinced. 

“Hey, William?” Dipper asked the man, but he didn’t seem to hear him. “William?” he said again, and this time, the man turned around, looking slightly startled. Bill had forgotten that he had a new name.

“Do you…want to go back now?”

Bill nodded and followed Dipper back up the stairs. 

As they reached the threshold of William’s new room, Dipper paused. He felt sorry for this man, and even though he had been a little rude to Mabel, he still deserved some kindness. 

“William,” Dipper began, “I’m sorry about Mabel. She just… gets a little worked up when people don’t get along with her right away. She was probably just shocked that you didn’t immediately like her.” Dipper chuckled a little bit. 

Bill thought about how Mabel had a rivalry with Pacifica at first, but soon turned it into a friendship with the help of Dipper. HAH, never going to happen, Bill laughed, scoffing at the thought of him and Mabel becoming friends. Bill turned toward Dipper, still internally laughing, but Dipper’s expression was serious. What he did next ended up surprising Bill more than anything else had this week.

“Here, I want you to have this.”

Bill extended his hand dubiously and was confused when Dipper placed a small, round orb into his palm. The smooth sphere was cool to the touch and about as big as a human eye, and if he looked close enough, he could see swirls of glittery aqua and shimmery white. Bill gave Dipper a look of skepticism, but Dipper quickly explained. 

“It’s a memory stone. I found them in the forest one day and gave them to my friends and family as gifts, but I had one extra, and I thought it might help with… your memories.”

Bill blinked at Dipper, a vaguely stunned look on his face. 

“Um, lemme show you how it works.” Dipper took out his own little orb and shut his eyes. He looked stupid, in Bill’s opinion. The orb flashed a dark blue, and a memory began to play. 

A shimmery navy blue smoke began to fill the air, surrounding them. 

Click. 

The glittery smoke swelled with light, illuminating it like a 360 projector, revealing a small Mabel being pushed on a swing by a small Dipper. They were both giggling happily, their cheeks rosy and their eyes shining with youth.

The memory made Bill hurt. 

And not physically.

“You can use the stone to transfer, store, watch, and recall memories. The color changes for each person. For example, mine is dark blue, Mabel’s is hot pink, Ford’s is dark red, and somehow Wendy’s is corduroy,” Dipper shrugged, continuing. 

“I used mine to store some of my memories about the mysteries here in Gravity Falls. I didn’t want them to take up all the space in my brain!” Dipper smiled sheepishly.

All at once, any trace of resentment against Dipper vanished from Bill’s mind. He tried desperately to bring it back, to recall the bitterness of his mental rant this morning, but his brain refused to. Bill simply couldn’t hate Dipper Pines after what he just said, and after what he just gave him. 

“I hope it helps,” Dipper said with a slight smile, leaving the room and Bill to his thoughts. 

Bill looked at the orb and realized that Dipper had never actually shown him how to use it. He stared intensely at the little orb. Come on… Bill focused, concentrating on the sphere, closing his eyes as Dipper did, and trying to bring forth a good memory. The ball began to glow, and suddenly, it flashed a bright aqua blue.

But the memory wasn’t a happy one.

And it was recent.

Very recent.

Bill watched as the little blue ball filled the air with a luminescent aqua haze, the light projecting a sharp image into his room. Every small detail was captured, and nothing was missed as he saw himself falling through the Theraprism portal. As he watched himself flail and scream, he felt helpless. Utterly helpless. 

He turned away, not wanting to watch anymore, but a shadow in the footage caught his eye. Bill squinted, trying to make out the dark form in the corner. It twitched. Something was off. Bill watched as he was sucked down into the portal, noticing the Axolotl’s smug-turned-rueful smile as he replaced the furniture in the room. Bill didn’t even have time to think about that when he saw the shadow glitch out of sight. Where’d it go? Bill kept watching as he saw the Axolotl open the door to the room, converse with the nurse, and walk off toward his office. It all seemed normal until– the shadow followed him. Bill’s eyes widened as he recognized it now, all too well. She was back, and it was— 

A sharp, shooting pain shot through the upper left side of his face, causing Bill to cry out in pain. Hot tears ran down his face as he clawed frantically at his skin, running toward the nearest mirror.

It burned. 

He stood paralyzed, looking at his reflection. 

A thick scar was starting to appear just above his left eye socket, buzzing and flickering like… static.

No, No, NO. My blood, my scar —I thought it was gone; I thought Axie healed it! Bill muffled another pained growl into his arm, avoiding touching his scar. Shit! What if the Pines see it? Ughhhh, what conclusions would they jump to then? 

All of a sudden, the pain subsided. Bill got up in confusion, wondering what had happened. He turned his head, and looking into the mirror, he saw the faintest trace of a human scar, right above his left eye—exactly where the pain had been. 

UGHHHHHH, he yelled in his head, smacking the bed in frustration. He sighed, giving up on beating his pillows, and looked up at the sky through the solitary stained glass window on the wall. Moonlight danced through the window’s blues, teals, and purples, illuminating Bill’s face with a soft glow. He stood, not knowing what he was going to do, but knowing exactly where he wanted to go.

                                                                                  *  *  *

She stood, watching through a monitor in her office. Dark pink vines dripped from the walls, unidentifiable heads were mounted on pikes, various weaponry lined the walls, and a million other pink plants of varying shades occupied the large workspace. A singular window let in the faintest bit of moonlight, but even the light feared what lay inside. 

It had taken ages of planning and plotting to finally get to where she was now, and all of her pieces were ready to be played. She was the hand that held the strings, and nothing could stop her now. 

She grinned a sinister smile, her sharp, yellow teeth gleaming in the dark, her pitch-black and beady eyes narrowing at the screen. Her curse had worked, and he was going to die. She would finally be getting the only thing she had ever wanted: Revenge. 

                                                                                   *  *  *

Ford went up to check on William one last time before he went to sleep, wanting to make sure that everything was okay after his conversation with the twins. So he wasn’t abused, and it seems as if Dipper made some progress with him, Ford thought pensively, but we still don’t know much about him at all. He knocked three times, waiting for William’s response. No answer. He knocked again. Still no answer. Maybe he’s in the bathroom? Ford went downstairs, but the bathroom door was open. 

“William?” Ford called into the emptiness of the shack. No response. He was beginning to panic.  

“Dipper!” Ford said as he spotted the young boy heading up towards his room. “Have you seen William anywhere?”

“Um, no, I saw him leaving his room about ten minutes ago.”

Ford thanked Dipper and ran back upstairs, flinging open the door to William’s room. He was nowhere to be found. 

“William…?” Ford wandered around the room, looking up and down and noticing how devoid of life the room was. He felt a guilty twinge. I should be doing more to help him. I shouldn’t have roped Dipper and Mabel into this… Ford’s thoughts instantly halted when he saw a bright blue sphere on the floor. He picked it up. What is Dipper’s– Ford flinched backward as aqua-blue smoke filled the air, the light projecting one of the memories inside the orb. 

He was falling through a portal, and the surrounding room was in turmoil. He looked up resentfully at the smug face that had tricked him. He was filled with rage and fear as he fell farther and farther away from his daily torture. He didn’t know where he was going; the Axolotl could have chosen to send him anywhere. He caught one last glimpse of the now rueful smile on the Axolotl’s face and decided to just let the portal take him away. Who cared where he was going, as long as it was far away from here? Seconds later, it spat him out in the snow in front of the Mystery Shack. Terror immediately filled him as he saw the Pines family, and as he saw Ford, his heart stopped. He fainted, but left a faint trace of another memory that was slightly visible but too blurry to make out.

Then, darkness.  

That was the only memory. 

And it wasn’t Dipper’s.  

Ford walked briskly towards Dipper’s room, knocking on his door.

“Come in!” Ford heard Dipper’s muffled voice reply. 

Ford opened the door, almost slamming it.

“Did you leave your memory stone in William’s room?” Ford said urgently.

Dipper looked confused. “No, why?”

Ford pulled the aqua-blue orb out of his breast pocket. 

“Then whose is this?”

Dipper’s eyes lightened with understanding, but he didn’t fully comprehend Ford’s anxious demeanor. 

“Um, it’s William’s. I gave him one earlier to see if it would help him with his lost memories.”

Ford smiled at the boy. He was too kind for his own good, even to strangers. 

“Well, when I touched it, I saw a memory.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Dipper’s eyes glanced from side to side, still not understanding.

“Yes, but…” Ford paused. “It’s better if you just see for yourself.” 

Ford squeezed the sphere, and the glittery haze began to fill the room again. 

As the memory played for the second time, Dipper’s demeanor went from confused to puzzled to anxious to worried. 

Whish!

The smoke vanished without a trace. 

“Oh…” Dipper’s face paled. “So… not abuse?”

“Not abuse.” Ford’s demeanor was serious, but he had also just noticed something. He had heard of this ‘Axolotl’ before. From where, he didn’t quite know, but he would figure it out. 

“Wait, so if he wasn’t in his room, then… where is he?” Dipper suddenly realized the severity of the situation. 

“I don’t know, but I have to go find him and make sure… he’s okay.” Ford laid a hand on Dipper's shoulder, trying to comfort the young boy. 

“He just seemed so misunderstood, and… conflicted. He seemed surprised when I gave him the stone as if no one had ever given him anything before, and this memory… scares me,” Dipper confessed, shaking a little. 

“Please find him, Grunkle Ford, I–I think there’s something more going on here.” 

Ford’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

Dipper wrung his hands. He didn’t think it worth mentioning before, but… “I’ve been having this… recurring dream. A prophecy.”

“Go on,” Ford said, looking Dipper in the eyes. 

“There was a voice in the shadows around the Shack, and it kept repeating over and over:

‘There are two. One is foul, and one is true. One seeks vengeance, and another mends severance. Both fight over the one who has been sentenced. Put in for his crimes and cast out so he dies, if one does not see the signs.'” 

This was a lot for Ford to process. 

“How long has this been going on?” 

“About a week before William arrived.”

“Do you think… he’s part of the prophecy?”

“I…think so.”

“Do you know which part?”

Dipper looked unsure, “Not yet, it’s too early to tell. He seems like a good guy, and I don’t think he’s committed any crimes. He could be the ‘true mender of severance,’ or he could…” Dipper put his head in his hands, and he looked like he was about to cry.

“Grunkle Ford, what if he’s… dangerous ?” 

“Dipper, we don’t know that for sure. For all we know, he could be unrelated to the prophecy entirely,” Ford reassured the boy, though he was hardly sure himself. He looked at Dipper.

“Don’t worry about it for now. I’ll go check around the Shack. He probably hasn’t gone very far.”

Dipper sighed, “Be careful, Grunkle Ford.”

“I will, Dipper.”

Ford exited the twins’ room, closing the door softly. He was glad that Stan and Soos had taken Mabel out for pizza today; he didn’t know what he would've done if she had been involved in this, too. Was she? Ford decided to worry about it later. 

Ford checked all of the upstairs rooms, including his own, just in case. He went downstairs and checked the kitchen, the bathroom again, and every inch of the museum part of the Mystery Shack. Alas, William was nowhere to be found. Ford groaned in frustration, loudly slapping his palm against the wall. Where could he be? Ford searched through his memories from that day, thinking of where William could be. Maybe he’s –no, it’s freezing outside, he wouldn’t, but… There was one last place Ford hadn’t checked, and it was a long shot, even for him.

Ford clicked open the back door and slowly made his way onto the roof. He was right; it was cold. But he was also right about one more thing. William’s soft blonde hair fluttered in the cool night’s breeze, and his shirt billowed out around him, giving him a ghostly appearance. He was sitting on the edge of the snowy roof, and his feet were dangling off the edge. This was always… Bill’s favorite spot– Stop. You need to stop thinking about him, Ford thought angrily, reminding himself that this man was not Bill, and that Bill was gone . Bill had tried to hurt his family, and Ford was glad that he was no longer alive. Bill is better off dead, anyway. Ford turned back to William, but he didn’t seem to notice Ford’s presence on the roof. 

“Um, hey–” Ford began apprehensively. William jolted around, scrambling to his feet, but the roof was slick with ice. William slipped backward, slowly falling off the roof, but strong hands caught him. Ford’s left hand was wrapped around William’s waist, closing the distance between them and bringing their faces inches apart. Bill’s heart was racing. Ford had saved him. A dreamlike mood fell over the scene as light snow began to fall, each breath visible in the night air as they looked into each other’s eyes. Ford suddenly pulled William up onto a more stable part of the roof, breaking the trance.  

He cleared his throat. “I found this, and I think…it belongs to you.” He pulled the aqua orb out of his pocket, handing it to William. 

Oh, shit. Bill hastily took the sphere back from Ford, which only made Ford more suspicious. Is he really telling the truth about not remembering his past? Or is he… lying?

“I thought it was Dipper’s, but then…” Ford paused. “Do you really not remember…anything?” The question was a gentle one, but after so many years together, Bill could sense the slight edge of skepticism in Ford’s voice.

Bill knew Ford had seen the memory, so he pointed at the orb as if to say, Only that.

Ford understood, feeling bad as he looked at William’s decidedly wry expression. He began to reach out his hand toward William’s shoulder, but… I don’t want to overstep his boundaries.

“Hey,” Ford said, catching William’s attention. “We’ll figure this out together, okay?” Bill melted into a puddle at Ford’s words. Oh, grow up, Bill! He growled at himself in his head, but he couldn’t resist. 

Bill knelt in the snow and wrote something with his finger. 

Ford gazed down at the message:

Call me Will

Ford looked up at him, a smile dancing across his lips. 

“Okay, Will.”

Chapter Text

Bill tripped as he came back down the steps from the roof, but he steadied himself before Ford had time to catch him. That would not be happening again. He can’t keep longing for the past he used to have, longing for… Ford . He would only get hurt even more. Or hurt others… Bill shook himself out of his thoughts, but the bitterness still lingered… Everyone still thinks I have amnesia, after all, he scoffed. 

“Here, sit down, and I’ll be right back with something warm,” Ford said, gesturing to the couch and rushing out of the room like he’d just committed a crime. 

Doofus, Bill thought as he rolled his eye, but he was cold. He looked at his hands, which were shaking, and touched his face gently. What have I become? His fingers brushed over his scar.     

WHOOSH!

Flames spewed from his scar, reopening it. The unnatural colors licked his face, burning his hand and causing part of his shirt to catch on fire. 

SHIT NO, NOT NOW! Bill's eye widened frantically, hands smacking his face in the hope that it would stop burning. He did not want the Mystery Shack to catch fire because of him. Wait, the Axolotl, damn him, should be able to help me with WHATEVER THE FUCK THIS IS, Bill fumed, but he didn’t know if he could even contact Axie anymore. Hail Mary, then. Bill shut his eye and retreated into the back of his mind. He began to chant in his head: A-X-O-L-O-T-L, I call upon thee with this spell, so that you may help the unwell. 

Bill felt a slight tug at his mind. 

C’mon, asshole, let me in. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Ford returned with two steaming mugs, but Will was fast asleep on the couch. Putting the mugs down on the table, he silently debated whether or not to leave him there. He doesn’t look very comfortable, but if I move him, he might wake up and– Ford slapped himself at the thought of carrying William to his bedroom bridal style. Nope, not gonna happen. Just gonna leave him here. He’ll be fine. Ford spun on his heel, but suddenly, he froze. 

Moving closer to Will, Ford brushed his hand over the scars on the sleeping man’s face. Where did these burns come from? They look… fresh . Ford slowly backed away from the man, his brow furrowing, his eyes narrowing, and a feeling of suspicion growing in his chest. As he looked closer, he also noticed the small scar running across Will’s face, still a pale white, as if it was just healing over. Ford squeezed his eyes shut. This, along with his new burns and half-singed shirt, suggested that Will was hiding more than he was letting on. It also meant he could have lied about not remembering anything else. Ford sighed. It meant a lot of things. 

Wait, Ford snapped out of his developing headache, his eyes flashing open. He had just realized something else. 

There was no fire. 

Anywhere .   

No open flames, no candles, no matches, no lighters. 

He was sure of this. 

Ford stared at Will again. How, then, Will, did you create fire out of thin air? Was Dipper right? Are you the ‘seeker of vengeance’? Ford's expression twisted, his feelings becoming even more conflicting as treacherous thoughts raced around his mind. He’s good, he’s bad, I should kill him right now, but what if he saves us, Dipper and Mabel like him, Stan is skeptical, Soos is too, I found him on the roof, but the prophecy, the prophecy– He interrupted his thoughts, his feet moving on their own, and did exactly what he said he wouldn’t. Scooping up the frail man into his arms, he carried Will up the stairs and tucked him gently into bed, ignoring how awkward he felt doing it. Ford would deal with this tomorrow, and he hoped to god no one was watching him right now…

God watched from above, laughing as he watched Ford carry Bill bridal-style up the stairs and then tuck him in like a loving husband. After all, Sahl had done this to him many times. The Axolotl debated on getting some popcorn, but the scene had already ended as he went to converse with Bill, who could still summon him, apparently. He flew down gracefully into Bill’s dreamscape and noticed that it was lacking a lot of its usual weirdness. Side effects of the spell, he assumed, but he didn’t know for sure. 

“AXIE!” 

He heard Bill shouting from down below, looking like a tiny, angry ant. 

“Hello, Cipher,” the Axolotl said calmly, noticing that even while in the dreamscape, Bill was still human.

“Don’t you ‘Hello Cipher’ me, you big pink reptile.”

“Amphibian.”

“Whatever, that’s beside the point.”

“Which is?”

Bill rolled his eye, but his tone grew serious, “She’s back.”

“You’re going to have to be more… specific.”

“Loxa.”

Silence. 

“And what makes you say that?”

Bill held up his memory orb. 

“This.” 

Smoke spilled out of the orb as the memory played for the fourth time in twelve hours.

The Axolotl watched as the pink shadow flitted in and out of the Theraprism. Freely, at that. It looked like her, but…

“It couldn’t be,” the Axolotl denied, glaring at the little blue ball as the smoke was reabsorbed into it. 

“But it is .”

The Axolotl thought about debating it further with Bill just to piss him off, but he knew there was no point when Bill was right. Loxa was back, and it wasn’t looking good, especially if she had already infiltrated the Theraprism.  

SHIT! I left Sahl by himself! The Axolotl’s eyes darted around. He needed an escape, an excuse, anything .

“Cipher, I’ve gotta go, but… you’re right. She’s back,” he admitted, slowly and casually trying to shuffle out of Bill’s dreamscape. 

“Of course, I’m right, but…” Bill paused, wringing his fingers. “What does she want?”

The Axolotl cringed at the question. For one, he had a good feeling that he knew what she was after. Secondly, he needed to get the hell out of there. Lastly, he didn’t want to worry Bill any more than he already had. And finally, fuck all that. 

“You.”

Bill laughed, “Me? You must be joking, right? She wants me ?” He looked up uncertainly at the large amphibian, his laughter fading. 

“No, I’m not.” The Axolotl sighed, knowing that this was going to be a long conversation he didn’t have time for.

“Well, then what the fuck am I supposed to do?!” Bill shouted angrily, pacing around the floor of the dreamscape.  

“I–” The Axolotl stopped himself. He couldn’t let Bill know that he didn’t have a clue. This was all very sudden and … not planned… entirely. Having Loxa return was the last thing he’d ever expected to happen, and now that it has, he really only has two priorities: 

1. Sahl
2. Bill

In that order. 

No exceptions. 

Except that Bill was exceptionally powerful and could potentially be a danger if Loxa got her hands on him. There were too many options. Too many contingencies. What to do, what to do . The Axolotl tapped his webbed foot in the air, thinking about his options as quickly as he could. 

“How about this,” the amphibian proposed, “You could stay on Earth for now. It would be harder for her to find you there, and I’ll go back to the Theraprism. Okaaay?” He grinned his shiny grin at Bill, hoping for an easy agreement. Yeah, right. Things were never easy with Bill. 

“So what, you’re just going to leave me on Earth defenseless ? I’ll die, Axie! She’ll kill me, first chance she gets!” Bill gestured wildly as he spoke, trying to emphasize the fact that he could potentially DIE.

“You could… tell the Pines family that you are being hunted by an interdimensional demon goddess?” He offered helpfully, thinking this the perfect solution. The side eye Bill gave the Axolotl could’ve paralyzed mortals. 

“Yeah, right!” He sneered. “Tell the Pines! They’d kill me for her!” Bill shoved down his anger and rubbed his eye. He was not going to cry in front of the Axolotl, especially about the Pines family. No matter how much saying this hurt him. That they’d kill him. Without hesitation… He gritted his teeth, repressing his emotions further. 

The Axolotl, being oblivious to Bill’s inner turmoil, could only think about Sahl. And thinking about Sahl, he came to a decision. Let’s give the triangle what he wants.

“Well, since you haven’t burned anything down or killed anyone recently… I guess I could give you back some of your powers.” The Axolotl crossed his hands at his stomach, looking expectantly at Bill.  

“You’re not go–” Bill stopped in his tracks. “Wait, some of my powers back?” 

Watching Bill blankly stare off into space at the mere mention of regaining his magic, the Axolotl feared he had broken the dream demon’s brain. Oop, well, not my problem right now! Axie smiled at Bill, snapping his fingers. 

Pop! Pop!

Bill felt all of his bones warm at the feel of his powers returning, the familiar rush of energy flowing through him once more. He lifted his hand, and a blue flame ignited, morphing to his will and bending to his desires. I could rule the world… The flames quelled. But not yet. 

“Just remember, don’t ever contact me again after this. If anything, I’ll contact you first.” The severity of the Axolotl’s tone grabbed Bill’s attention as he looked the god in the eyes. 

Bill opened his mouth to protest. “Why? What if I need you? And what if– wait! You never told me why you sent me he–”

“Figure it out yourself, have fun, okay, byeeeee!” The Axolotl clapped once, and a portal spawned beneath Bill’s feet, dropping his spirit back into his body on Earth. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“OOF!” Bill jolted up out of his bed, eye darting around, left and right. I guess he really did send me back to Earth– Oh! 

Filled with excitement, Bill tried to use his powers again like he had in the Dreamscape, but no blue flame appeared. 

He tried again. 

No luck.

“ARGGHHH,” he let out a muffled yell into his pillow– Wait, his pillow? 

Bill looked around again and noticed that he was in his room. Wasn’t I downstairs? Didn’t I fall asleep on the couch? How did I get– 

Ford. 

While Bill was in his dreamscape, Ford had carried Bill into his room.

He was sure of this. 

“Asshole,” Bill muttered into his pillow, his face burning nonetheless.  

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The Axolotl rushed to the Theraprism, hoping, praying, that something was still left.

WOOSH! 

He was back. 

The Theraprism gleamed in all of its shiny, reflective, glory, and nothing seemed out of place. Flying through the hallways, he passed dozens of patients, but he wasn’t looking for any of them. 

“Sahl! SAHL!” The Axolotl called out into space, worriedly flying into his office, checking every door along the way. 

A green figure stood in the center, looking a bit shocked at all of the commotion. 

“Ax, what’s–” The Axolotl embraced him tightly, their tails intertwining as his worry melted away.

“I’m so glad you’re safe, I didn’t know if you were, and I tried to come back as fast as I could, but Bill–” Sahl gripped the Axolotl’s shoulders, interrupting him. 

“Hey, hey, slow down, and tell me what happened. What does this have to do with Bill?”

The Axolotl took a deep breath. “She’s back.”

“You don’t mean–”

“I do.”

“But—”

SCREEECH! SCREEECH!

The security alarm was going off inside the Theraprism, which could only mean one thing. 

She was here. 

It was too late. 

The Axolotl’s gaze steeled as he looked at his partner. 

“Sahl, you need to leave. I don’t want her to–”

Sahl's webbed hand gripped his. “Never. I’ll never leave you. Not even because of her. Whatever happens, we go through it together .”

The Axolotl nodded, leading Sahl through a few secret passageways, as the two lovers made their escape. Quickly, he cast a spell, not forgetting about Bill either, that would allow him to regain more of his powers as he made more connections. Better safe than sorry. He turned back to Sahl. 

“Here, we’re almost out–”

BOOM! 

The lights were out. A dark pink dust slithered in and out of the ventilation, twisting, taunting, teasing. As fine as the sandman’s, as toxic as angel’s.

A voice hissed in the dark. “ Come out, come out, Axie, wherever you are~”

The Axolotl pressed his fingers to his lips, motioning for silence. 

“ You may shine bright, but I’m a fallen star~”

Sahl inched closer to him, still trying to back away slowly.

“ I’ll be with you, near or far~”

They were face-to-face, but all they saw was,

“ Bonded by blood, right from the start.”

Fear in each other’s eyes.

“ Found you.”  

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Ford was downstairs sipping his coffee. Strong, black, simple. Will was still sleeping upstairs, right where Ford had left him. Their drinks from last night lay untouched on the table by the couch, and he had been too tired to pick them up. They’ve long since gone cold. 

Plus, the more he thought about Will, the more he had to stop thinking about Will. It was bad enough that he had just considered killing this man yesterday, but his feelings were… complicated. Will is funny, temperamental, and definitely snarky. Whenever Ford is around him, it just feels right , like two kindred spirits who were meant to find each other in the vast multiverse that surrounds and envelopes them all. He’d only felt this way about one other. Bill. And that was the problem. 

Ford slammed his mug down on the table angrily. I need to stop thinking about him, he thought. I need to forget . For good. 

Getting up slowly, Ford went down to his lab, unlocked his safe, and pulled out McGucket’s memory gun. Closing the door behind him, he exited the cold space and walked back to the kitchen. 

A thousand thoughts ran through his head as he typed in the name BILL CIPHER , each finger feeling like there was an invisible weight attached. Ford lifted the gun to his head. 

It’s for the best, he thought to himself. You won’t remember how he hurt you . He closed his eyes as his finger curled around the trigger. It’s for the best.  

SLAM!

Ford threw the gun down on the table. He couldn’t do it. There was so much else he could forget, too many chances he wasn’t willing to take. The entire summer, his entire life used to revolve around Bill, and… his family and friends were something he didn’t want to forget. Fiddleford had ruined himself with this cruel invention, and Ford wasn’t about to do the same. 

“Ughhhh,” he muttered as he stared at the gun resentfully, deciding to just go back to his lab and stare at some random invention he was probably working on. Ford walked away, the blue words BILL CIPHER still flashing on the gun. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Sleepily walking down the steps, Bill finally emerged from his room, smirking. He couldn’t believe that Ford , Mr. Stone-Cold No-Feelings, had enough of a heart to carry him to his room. 

SLAP! 

Bill slapped himself. Ford didn’t love him. He didn’t love Ford. Ford never did. And Ford never will. He repeated this in his head until his cheek started to burn from the slap, and tears threatened to spill from his eye. 

Blinking hard and trying to shake off his feelings, Bill stepped toward the table… and noticed the gun. 

His face contorted into an expression of rage and pure hatred as he snatched the memory gun off the table. FUCK THIS PIECE OF SHIT AND IT’S CREATOR, GODDAMMIT, LEAVE ME ALONE! Bill raised his arm to hurl the stupid thing at the wall, but the blue text on the device caught his attention. He lowered his arm as his eye glanced over the two words. He let the gun slip from his hand, not even hearing it clatter on the wooden floor.  

“Bill Cipher…” he whispered, barely audible. Why— who—? His veins turned to ice. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw it. The cup of coffee, pitch black, and still warm. 

Ford.  

It made sense. He was the only one with memories substantial enough to be erased, and technically, Bill was dead . Dead, and standing over a cup of coffee, his body shaking with hurt and betrayal. This time, he let his bitter tears fall. He didn’t care. Last night was clearly a mistake. Ford really didn’t feel anything. He just wanted him gone. He wanted Bill gone. 

Still trembling, Bill picked the gun back up from the floor. I’m the only one here who knows I’m still alive. If I erased my memories, I would be telling the truth. No one else would know. I really would have amnesia. I wouldn’t remember what I’d done. I wouldn’t remember my past. I wouldn’t remember the people I’ve hurt, or killed, or erased. I wouldn’t have ever existed. Bill Cipher would just be a story told to William. William, perfect William. Ford can have William. William, who loves Ford. Ford, who loves William. William, and not me. Never me. It was never me. Never… 

“Will!”

Bill flinched at Ford’s voice, quickly wiping his eye and tightening his grip on the memory gun.  

“That is a really dangerous device, please put it down. You could hurt yourself.” Ford moved toward William, who had his back turned to him, still holding the gun. William whipped around, and Ford was taken aback at the look of pain and anguish written all over his face, his eye piercing into Ford’s as if he were the reason for his suffering. 

They held each other’s gazes for what felt like an eternity, but it was really less than a heartbeat before Bill looked away and sighed. Deciding that he should at least find out why Ford had wanted to erase him from his memories, Bill turned back to Ford, not noticing that the man withdrew slightly from him. Bill pointed at the gun. Ford froze for a minute, overthinking things, before answering Will’s question. Which he hadn’t asked. But Ford knew that. 

“It just erases memories. That’s it,” he said in such an unconvincing way that even if Bill wasn’t Bill, he would still know that there was more to the story. 

Bill pointed to the name, still wanting to prompt an answer out of Ford. The other man gave him a pained look, which sent a knife through Bill’s stomach. He turned away quickly before Ford could question his reaction. Ugh, he can’t even talk about me. Was I that much of a stain on his life? He squeezed his eye shut. Yes. I was .   

“Do you… really want to know about Bill?” 

Bill turned back around. Slowly . 

OH HELL YES, is what he would’ve wanted to yell at Ford, but he settled for a gentle nod. 

The two walked to the couch, mirroring the scene from last night, as Ford handed Bill another mug filled with a dark, warm liquid. Bill put the gun down on the table as he took the mug from Ford’s hands, their fingers brushing slightly. 

Bill grimaced at the drink. 

“It’s not coffee if that’s what you’re wondering,” Ford said with a smirk.

Bill rolled his eye at him. Fuck you for knowing what I’m thinking, he cursed Ford in his head, but it was true. He really did hate coffee. But if it wasn’t coffee, what was it?

“It’s tea. A black tea latte, to be specific.”

Ford received the mortal-paralyzing side eye from Bill.
“I’m really good at reading your mind, aren’t I?” He chuckled.

He was gonna do it. He was gonna throw his tea at Ford. He swore to the Axolotl. Just one more time . Ford only had to read his mind one more time , and he was gonna lose it. He was either going to kiss him or kill him, and he wasn’t sure which was better for his mental state at this point. 

Giving up on his emotions, Bill took a sip of his tea. Oh. My. Axolotl. He probably looked constipated as he tried to suppress his smile so that Ford wouldn’t see it and tease him even more . Although… he would’ve liked that. 

The tea was hot like fire, but burned down his throat so nicely that it warmed his blood and his body from head to toe, creating a hearth-like feeling within him. It was so much sweeter than it looked, and tasted as if the Earth was ground up and mixed with the Milky Way. Bill put down his cup, too afraid to take another sip and feel like that again. He looked back at Ford. I like lattes , he thought decidedly. 

Once Ford sensed that the mood had calmed a bit, he began to speak. 

“I met Bill a long time ago,” he began softly. “I was out of ideas, and anomalies were few and far between. I needed more help, but I didn’t know where to get it.”

Bill stared intently at him. Fuck it, he thought, and took another sip of tea. He was going to need more sweetness if he was going to get through the bitter retelling of his past. 

“One day, I found a cave with strange paintings inside.” Ford paused. “ It was a ritual. To summon a demon .”

Bill’s head snapped up at the word, and Ford shrugged. “Sounds crazy, right?” 

Bill didn’t respond. 

Instead, he drank more tea, and as he took more sips, the feeling slowly became more familiar.

Ford took a deep breath. “The demon’s name was Bill Cipher, and he said that every century, he would choose a new mind to inspire. I was a fool to believe this, but I fell for every word he said.”

Bill glanced down guiltily at his hands, hating how Ford sounded so torn .

“He became my Muse, and he tricked me into building an interdimensional gateway that would destroy my dimension. But I didn’t know that yet. And while I unknowingly worked on this project, we became partners. He sped up my mind when it was slow, and calmed it down when I was anxious.” Ford looked William in the eye. “We even became friends. We were close . And for a while… we were a little closer. A little… more than friends.” 

Bill’s face burned as Ford looked away from him, embarrassed. 

“I know it might sound… weird. Falling in love with a triangle demon. I mean, I loved him as my Muse, but after a while… I just loved him for himself. And, I know he didn’t love me, but… I really did love him.”

Bill choked on his tea, almost spitting it out. He was about to die. Bill stared blankly at the floor. Ford… did love me. And I fucked it up. I fucked it up, so , bad. So, so, bad…. There were no words. He couldn’t believe it. It felt as if the walls of the Shack were pressing on him from all sides, constricting his breathing and trying to puncture his lungs. The pain in his heart, his pathetic human heart, was making him dizzy and sick to his stomach. He wanted to go away, so, so far away from here, so that he would never see this place again and forget all about this. The memory gun was looking more and more tempting as he debated snatching it off the table.  

“Hey, hey, you okay?” Ford put his hand on Bill’s shoulder, feeling the man shake underneath his touch. Bill flinched ever so slightly. No, I’m not, but nodded his head yes. Ford handed him a napkin, and Bill took it, wiping his face. He waved his hand back at Ford. Continue, the gesture said. 

“Yeah, well, then he betrayed me and tried to kill me and my family multiple times,” Ford cleared his throat awkwardly, not noticing Bill’s pained expression. Axolotl, I did do all those things… didn’t I? Bill stared into his tea, embarrassed and ashamed, his face flaming the color of chili peppers. 

“And then, when I thought it was finally over, I fell into the portal that Bill had made me build, and I got trapped in the Multiverse. Thankfully, my brother Stanley was able to free me from my prison, but it wasn’t over yet. Bill had already been summoned by a child named Gideon Gleeful, who was hellbent on getting revenge on my niece and nephew. He then possessed Dipper, tortured my family some more, and started Weirdmaggedon. Bill turned everyone into statues, including me, and then he tried to kill Dipper and Mabel again. Ultimately, we defeated him, tricking him into going into Stanley’s mind so that we could kill him, but all of Stanley’s memories were erased, too. By some miracle, they all returned and now Bill… is dead.” Ford took a deep breath, his hands balling into fists to stop them from shaking. It was obvious that these memories still had an effect on him, and Bill felt a growing feeling of something in his chest, tight and painful. 

Bill looked at Ford, wanting to comfort him so, so badly, but he couldn’t. Knowing that he was the one who had caused Ford all of this pain, all of this suffering… he just couldn’t. Bill pointed to the gun, still wanting an answer to his question. 

Ford sighed, his fists uncurling. “I guess it’s… because I still can't stop thinking about him.” Bill looked up in surprise. “And.. it just makes me angry and bitter about everything he did and how I can never fix it and never go back and undo everything he’s ever done and–”

Bill interrupted Ford, lightly brushing his hand before reaching quickly into his pocket to take out the notepad and pen he had stashed in there earlier. Click, click! Bill put the pen to the paper and started to write.

If he came back, would you—

Bill paused. For some reason, he couldn’t finish writing the sentence. His brain was telling him to write, but his hand wouldn’t budge. Come on, Bill, pull yourself together. It’s just a question. It’s not like the answer will change anything! It’s not like I’m afraid of what Ford is— Shit. He was scared. Scared of how Ford would answer. And it would change things. A lot of things. Including Bill’s future. And if he would have one at all. 

Bill looked at Ford, seeing the curiosity in his eyes. Damn it. Better to find out now than to find out later.

If he came back, would you ever forgive him?

Bill let out a shaky exhale as his hand left the paper. He looked intently at Ford, trying to gauge his reaction. 

Would you ever forgive me? Bill’s thoughts whispered in his mind. 

Ford finally looked up at Bill, a stunned expression on his face. Bill started to panic a little. He scribbled:

I mean, I know he’s dead but what if he came back and he was different and he had changed or he wanted to be forgiven for all that stuff he did to you because he feels really bad about it and maybe what if he loved you back too even if he didn’t realize it before and now he’s all torn up about it and—

Bill took a breath from fuming on this paper, momentarily forgetting where he was. Ford’s eyes were full of concern, but there was a hint of something else in there. A look that Bill recognized. Ford thought he was a mystery. And it was clearly one he wanted to solve. Bill smirked to himself. Let’s give Mr. Braniac what he wants. Bill picked up the pen again. 

I’m sorry, I’ve just… been through something similar.

At first, Ford thought this sentence was simple. It wasn’t. As he thought about this quickly, he realized that there were two sides to this conflict. Was William the one who got hurt, or was he the one who did the hurting? Did he regret what he did? Or did he forgive someone who hurt him? Ford looked back at what William wrote. Words filled with guilt. So, he hurt someone, too. But he feels guilty. Bill wouldn’t. He’s not like Bill at all. Ford decided that he could sympathize with Will and forget about Bill. Huh. The more I think about it, their names are actually really similar. He scoffed to himself. Now I’m just grasping at straws, trying to justify my paranoia. 

Bill still wanted an answer to his goddamn question and was an eye twitch away from throwing the notepad at Ford’s thick skull. Gosh, this man is dense. Bill rolled his eye away from Ford and lightly tapped the paper with his pen, trying to gently nudge Ford into getting back on topic. 

“Oh, sorry! I forgot about… your question.” Ford stared down at the paper for a long, long time. 

Bill was getting nervous. Please, please, please, don’t prove I’m right. 

“I could never forgive Bill, not ever.”

Bill’s entire body went slack. Invisible hands were squeezing his throat, choking him, each breath he took hitching a little and feeling like his last. Darkness bloomed in the corners of his vision, the world blurring as images faded. His teacup began to slip from his fingers as his mind slipped away from his body. There were no thoughts in his head except one. Karaoke with Ford. On his birthday. They had so much fun that night, forgetting all about their work. Bill had for once felt peace that night; he was happier than he’d ever been. There was a slight feeling of unease that he had felt, though, brushing it off as too many drinks, despite not being able to get drunk. Now, he knew what it really was. It wasn’t going to last. That was the thought he had had that night. And he hated it. He wanted to be with Ford forever, but he went about it in all the wrong ways. And now, he couldn’t change it, even in this body. Because truly, he was not William, and he would never be. He was hiding Bill away, and that was so incredibly difficult. He loved being himself more than anything, and suppressing it was suffocating. And if he had to do it forever? Even with Ford by his side? It would kill him. He would never be able to talk or act like himself. Chained by morality, emotion, and fear. Bill Cipher. Ex-deity. Failure. Unloved. Unwanted. Purposeless. 

“But,” Ford began.

Ford unknowingly halted Bill’s spiraling train of thought as Bill scrambled to catch the teacup, fumbling with it slightly. 

“If he came back saying he was changed, he’d have to prove it. He would have to do everything in his power to fix his mistakes again. His actions would have to speak louder than his words. I mean, I’ll never trust him again, and I doubt he could ever change, but if he wanted to, I’d like to see him try.” Ford’s words were serious, but he said them with a sort of fondness that made Bill question whether he was telling the truth. He sighed, knowing that Ford probably was. 

Just watch me, Sixer. Just watch me. Bill thought, narrowing his eye with a wry smile, heart still hurting and body still aching. 

Good to know, he wrote on the notepad, letting Ford glance over the message briefly before tucking it back in his pocket.

God, he looks depressed, Ford thought, even though Will was smiling now. He could see right through it, but he still didn’t entirely know what was bothering him. They sat in silence for a beat before an idea suddenly popped into his head. 

“Um, Will, would you like to go down to my lab?” Ford asked apprehensively, not entirely sure that this would be of interest to the other man.

Will’s head shot up immediately, a sudden interest filling his dark eye with light, his smile becoming more genuine as he shook his head yes. 

Ford laughed a little and smiled back at him, embarrassing Bill at his lack of a poker face. 

As they walked down the stairs into the Mystery Shack lobby, it suddenly hit Bill. Oh, shit, well, this is gonna bring back some trauma. Ha HA! Why did I agree to this... ? Bill grimaced as Ford punched in the code to the lab (either 3214789 or smth else). Oh, wait! Now I know the password! I don’t have to— He stopped, remembering the last time he couldn’t get down into the lab. Bill looked down at Ford’s hands. The scars were still there. He bit back his emotions as he followed Ford down the steps. Ford gave him a quick rundown of the lab lore. 

“This is my lab. I apologize, it’s a bit cold due to the nature of some of the elements in here. I used to spend hours down here writing in my journal and studying the anomalies of Gravity Falls. When Bill was here, we used to work on the portal together, but now that it’s been dismantled, it’s just an empty space for some projects I’ve been working on.”

As they entered the main room, Bill spotted a familiar face.

Dipper smiled at them as they walked in. ”Hey, Grunkle Ford! Oh, and William too!” He ran up to them excitedly, a metal contraption in his hand. “I’m just putting the finishing touches on this hyperteal pistol!” 

Bill whipped his head around at Ford. You let this kid build a fucking HYPERTEAL PISTOL?!?!?! That's what Bill wanted to scream at Ford. I mean, it’s harmless for humans, but those are ILLEGAL for a REASON! THEY CAN KILL GODS YOU DUMBASS! Like, AXIE gods. Shit, Bill realized, it could kill me, too. Bill turned his head back to the pistol. Something was out of place.

Dipper looked up at Ford. “There’s something wrong with it, though. It doesn’t have any power. The crystal is in there, but—“ The boy was interrupted as Bill snatched the pistol out of his hands, and shooed him away. 

“Hey, what the—“ Dipper began, but stood in amazement as Bill grabbed the screwdriver and extracted the fuse with the precision of a neurosurgeon. Amateurs, Bill scoffed, if you’re gonna build a god-killing weapon, at least do it right. With the fuse removed, he located the space where it was supposed to go, right behind the crystal. As he popped in the fuse, the whole pistol lit up with the power of a small star. Flecks of energy started to spark from the pistol, and Bill quickly turned it off and threw it on the desk, but not before getting burned. Shit, shit, SHIT. He hid his hand behind his back, instantly regretting showing off. Okay. Maybe not totally regretting it. Bill looked up. Mistake. 

Ford and Dipper were staring at him in complete shock. 

“How—how do you know how to do that?” Ford spoke first, Dipper’s jaw still on the floor. 

Bill shrugged casually, a cocky smirk on his face. Got anything else? His expression seemed to say. 

Ford chuckled a bit. I remember how Bill used to have that exact face— UGH! He turned to Dipper and Bill. “Sorry, excuse me,” he mumbled as he rushed out of the room. 

“Grunkle Ford, wait!” Dipper started after him, but Bill stepped in front of him. He pointed to the pistol. Finish that. Then he pointed to himself, and then to the exit where Ford had left. I’ll take care of him. 

“Are you sure?” Dipper gave Bill a worried look, his hands wringing together. Bill smiled at Dipper and nodded his head, going after Ford. 

He’ll be fine, Dipper thought. I trust William.

Bill found Ford right outside the vending machine, staring off into the distance. 

“Oh, hey,” Ford said as he spotted Bill. Taking out the notepad again, Bill wrote:

Bill again? 

Ford sighed. “Yes, it’s just…” he looked over at Will. “You… remind me a lot of him.” 

Bill’s eye widened. Axolotls, how DENSE is this man?! I AM Bill for Axie’s sake! 

“Wait, wait, not like that!” Ford stuttered, “I mean, his good qualities! Like his humor, and his smile, and his style, and his personality, and his…” Ford trailed off, looking away from Will, his face turning a traitorous shade of red. 

And what’s so wrong with that? Bill wrote with a teasing smile, placing his index finger on Ford’s jaw and pushing his head back so that they were face to face, the message visible on the paper.

God, he’s such a flirt, Ford thought, his heart beating like he’d just run a marathon. He’s so close…  

“Nothing,” Ford breathed softly, “because you’re nothing like him. Nothing like him at all.” 

The silence in which they held their gaze, eyes locked, was paradise . Bill leaned in a little closer, and subconsciously, Ford did too. Bill struggled as his mind betrayed him, his thoughts running along the lines of This is wrong, this is wrong, I need to stop, I can’t—

Creeaaakkk!

Ford and Bill whipped around, only to see Dipper standing in the entrance to the vending machine lab door.

“Um, I finished the… hyperteal… pistol…” Dipper said awkwardly, not knowing where to look, but knowing pretty well what was happening.

Bill jumped away from Ford, while Ford averted his eyes from him, both men staring intently at the floor.

Ford cleared his throat. “Oh, Dipper! Perfect timing!” 

A lie.

Everyone knew.

No one said anything.

Not even Bill and Ford had known what had been interrupted. 

Dipper had a hunch, but he had to consult Mabel first. 

And as Bill and Ford went back down into the lab, Dipper excused himself upstairs.

”Mabel! Mabel!” Dipper called, whisper-shouting around the second floor. 

“I’m in our room, Dipper!” Mabel yelled back loudly.

Dipper facepalmed. 

As he walked into their shared room, Mabel waved at him frantically. She was reading a Teen Vogue magazine and was absorbed in an article about crocheting, her latest obsession. 

“Dipper!! Are you SEEING THIS!?!” Mable said excitedly, nose-deep in the magazine. “I can make Ducktective!! Out of YARN!!! Wait, no, what if I made another fake Stan, but this time-”

“Shhh!” Dipper put a finger to her mouth. “I need to talk to you about something, but… I need you to be super quiet.” 

Mabel’s eyes widened. “Oohh, I see! A secret!” She was whispering now. “Is it about Pacifica?”

“No! Of course not!” Dipper’s face reddened, and he turned away from her momentarily. “This has something to do with… William. And Ford.”

“Mkay…. Spill the tea?” Mabel raised an eyebrow, a cat-like smile on her face.

Dipper took a deep breath, preparing for a long retelling. 

“Okay, so I was in Ford’s lab, working on the hyperteal pistol, and suddenly, Ford and William entered. I was a little surprised that he had brought William, because I didn’t even think Ford trusted him that much.” He paused. “Come to think of it, what were they doing before they came down into the lab? I mean, Stan, Soos, and Melody went to buy groceries, so they were all alone.” Dipper’s brow furrowed, going deep into thought. “God, why am I even thinking about this! Never mind that! I’m getting off topic. Back to the story.” Mabel rolled her eyes. 

“So, I told Ford about my progress, and at first William looked a little shocked about the hyperteal pistol, like he knew what it was, but obviously…” Dipper trailed off again. “Wait… does he know what it is? That’s impossible! But, he knew exactly how to fix it, and what was wrong with it in the first place!” At this point, Dipper was mumbling more to himself than actually telling Mabel the story. He turned back to her, smiling sheepishly once he saw her raised eyebrows. “This time I’ll actually finish, I swear,” he promised. He took another breath. “I was at the part where I told Ford that the pistol wouldn’t power up, and suddenly, William just snatched it out of my hands!” Mabel's jaw dropped in shock. 

“What did he do, what did he do?!” She leaned forward, eager to hear all the gossip.

“He fixed it!”

“No!” She gasped.

“Yes!” Dipper said excitedly. “He fixed it and then put it on the table pretty quickly, like it burned him or something, which is strange because it only—” Dipper’s jaw dropped for the second time that day.

“Dipper!!” Mabel slapped her forehead, grabbing his shoulders. “You’re fluent in Yapanese!! Whatever it is, write it down and tell me later. Ah, ah!” She silenced him with her hand as he tried to open his mouth to speak. “Do it!”

Dipper scribbled his revelation down on the nearest piece of paper, Mabel’s magazine (thankfully, the back, and not the crochet article; He wasn’t an idiot), his jaw still on the floor. 

“Um, so,” he began, still distracted. “Yeah, after he fixed it, Ford and I just kind of stared at him in shock because not everyone knows how to fix an interdimensional god-killing illegal death ray. He just gave a cocky smirk and a shrug, like it was no big deal.” Dipper laughed a little while he said this. “William’s funny. Reminds me a little of Stan sometimes.” His smile faded. “After that, Ford literally dashed out of the lab, and as I was about to go after him, William stopped me. He basically gestured to me that I should finish the pistol, and that he’d take care of Ford. And for some reason, I trusted him.” Dipper looked at Mabel. “Now that I think about it, I don’t exactly know why.” He shook his head. “I finished, not quickly either, and as I was walking back up the stairs to find them, I… overheard their conversation. Well, more like Ford talking to William. He said something like, ‘Nothing, because you’re nothing like him. Nothing like him at all.’” Mabel tilted her head curiously. She had her own hunch forming now. We’ll just have to see who’s right ;).

Dipper continued. “And then I accidentally leaned up against the vending machine door as I was eavesdropping, and it creaked so loudly, and both William and Ford saw me, but before that they were…” His face scrunched up as if he was still trying to process what had happened. 

“What, what ?!” Mabel waved her hands around wildly, begging Dipper to continue. 

“They were kinda like, staring into each other’s eyes???” He started stuttering, “I mean like, I don’t really know, and it sounds kinda of stupid, but it looked like—I don’t even know what it looked like, I’m just confused—”

“AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” Mabel squealed, interrupting him.

“Mabel! What the heck?!” Dipper whispered-shouted at her, motioning for her to calm down. At fifteen, she still had the energy of a ten-year-old.

She was still fidgeting, hopping from one foot to another, when she calmed down enough to speak.

“You know what this means???” She whispered to him, trying to be quiet. 

Dipper shrugged. “Yeah, actually. Ford is going to make William his new lab partner.” He looked a little dejected.

Mabel grabbed his shoulders. “Aww, no Dipper! He would never replace you! Especially not for some rude stranger!” She was still bitter about that side eye. 

“Buuuttt,” she began again, her excitement returning. “It’s obvious as to what this is!”

“Is it, though?” Dipper said skeptically.

“Yes! It’s love at first sight! ” Mabel broke into a huge grin as she said this, still ever the love fanatic she was two years ago. 

Dipper made a face. “Eww, no! They just met!” A pause. “They were kinda close though…UGH! I don’t know, the thought just makes me a little sick.”

“Dipper…” Mabel said quietly. “Are you afraid of losing Ford to someone else?”

He froze. “I– guess I am…” Dipper sighed. “It’s so selfish of me, I know, but–”

“Dipper, stop.” Mabel’s voice was sharp, but her gaze was soft. “We’ve all been through a lot. It’s not selfish for you to want to protect Ford from a stranger. A stranger he trusts, but a stranger nonetheless. If anything, you’re a little scared of the future.” She smirked.

Dipper smiled at Mabel. “You know me so well!” He laughed.

“Of course I do! I’m your sister, dummy!” She smiled back at him.

Dipper’s expression turned serious. “William just… looks so familiar. ” 

“What do you mean?” Mabel said.

“I mean, I just feel like I’ve seen him before, been in his presence. Or as you would say, ‘he’s giving some weird vibes’.”

Mabel laughed. “Well, get to know him better! Hang out more. He seems nice enough, to you at least.” She pouted a little.

“Hey, I think he felt pretty bad about making you cry,” Dipper said sympathetically, but he knew it was true. “You should try talking to him again, too.” 

Mabel nodded at him, a small smile on her face. 

“Come on, we’ll figure this out together. You and me against the world.” Dipper put his hand out. “Mystery Twins?”

Mabel put her hand on top of Dipper’s and smiled. 

“Mystery Twins.”

Chapter Text

Dipper walked out of the room, exhaling in determination. 

“You got this, Dipper. Just find William, get to know him. That’s it.” This time, it was on his terms, not Ford’s. 

It was still early, about 8 in the morning, and Stan, Melody, and Soos still weren’t back from the grocery store. A perfect opportunity for Dipper to execute his plan without question. 

As Dipper made his way back down to the lab, he spotted William staring at the hyperteal pistol, Ford nowhere in sight. 

Even better. 

Okay, Dipper took a deep breath— time to prove my theory.

“Hey,” Dipper said as he walked into the room. 

William’s head snapped around as he flinched, his blonde hair getting in his face.

Dipper put his hands up worriedly. “Sorry, sorry, sorry I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—” 

William waved him off, interrupting him, pushing the hair out of his face. He still looked a bit shaken, but his eye stared straight into Dipper’s soul as if sensing his ulterior motives. 

Dipper was beginning to question his ‘foolproof plan’. He’s so scared. God, the amount of trauma this man must have gone through… I don’t want to hurt him even more. UGHHHHHHH. Dipper groaned inwardly, but moved to grab the hyperteal pistol. 

“I just needed to put this away. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Dipper mumbled as he put the pistol into a sleek leather holster. 

Bill watched him intently, noting how he opened the holster, which direction he put the pistol, and how he turned the safety on and off.

”Do you know what this is?”

Bill froze. Shit! Does he know that I know?

The question was sprung so suddenly that Dipper felt both stupid and nervous at his lack of tact. Even if William was what Dipper thought he was, he’d never tell him, much less reveal his knowledge about the pistol. 

Bill unfroze, taking out his notepad. 

A gun? 

He shrugged as he wrote. 

Dipper was torn on whether to believe William’s response or find it highly suspicious. Suspicious, Dipper decided, but chose to explain the pistol anyway. Preparing to gauge William’s reaction, Dipper spoke. 

“This is a hyperteal pistol. It can kill gods.” 

William threw up his hands, scribbling down on his notepad:

Why the hell do you want to kill gods? Do you even know any???

Dipper had to hold back his laughter. This was pretty funny, actually. 

“Ford mostly just wanted to build it as a preventative measure. He said he learned about it in one of the dimensions he went to. Forgot what it was called, though.” 

Bill began to nod, but a memory resurfaced. Wait, he thought, growing enraged, I was the one who told Ford about the hyperteal pistol! I never told him it could harm me, though, or else he would’ve used it against me during Weirdmaggedon. Ugh, so like that son of a bitch to forget about that. Fumes were practically spilling out of his ears as he tried to stifle his anger.

“It’s also pretty illegal to have this because of its nature and stuff.” 

Bill rolled his one eye. No shit, he thought. 

“But like, who gives a shit,” Dipper said, shrugging. He looked at William, who had one eye wide open. Dipper slapped his mouth with his hand, turning a bright shade of red. 

Bill just shrugged, but he was about one second away from completely losing it and collapsing to the ground in laughter. Dipper Pines, cursing! Who would’ve thought! 

“Maybe, don’t tell Ford about that, haha…” Dipper let out a dry chuckle, clearing his throat awkwardly. 

William made a serious face, put one hand on his heart, and with the other, saluted him like a soldier. 

Dipper immediately burst out laughing, his warm voice ringing throughout the cold lab. Bill let out a small chuckle under his breath. 

Breaking the silence that followed, Bill gestured around the lab. Is there anything else to do in here? 

Dipper eyed some of the gadgets around the lab. “Uhh, I try not to touch any of Ford’s other inventions. He said they might be dangerous and stuff. This…” he pointed to the hyperteal pistol, “was the exception.” 

Bill glanced around the room, spotting a harmless-looking sphere containing nine interlocking discs, each engraved with words he couldn’t make out. He saw this and countless other inventions like it, and the hyperteal pistol was the exception? Bill raised his eyebrow, wrote on his notepad, and showed it to Dipper.

Really, the god-killing weapon was the exception?  

He smirked as Dipper laughed again, and Bill was beginning to let go of his shallow assumptions about this boy. His hate had left with the gift of the memory stone, but prejudices remained. 

“Damn, you’re funny, man!” Dipper punched him lightly in the arm.

Will’s face noticeably lit up at the praise.

Damn prejudices. They’re about as dead as his parents now.

Suddenly, an idea popped into Bill’s head. He fumbled with his notepad, trying to find a blank page, motioning for Dipper to come closer. 

Okay, hear me out. He wrote. This might take a while, and it’ll be a lot of hard work, but it’ll be loads more interesting and fun than whatever we’re doing right now. 

Dipper eyed him skeptically, but proceeded to watch.  

William quickly wrote down, The end result will be very rewarding, and… A brief pause. He glanced at Dipper for a moment before writing hesitantly, I think your sister will like it too.

Dipper, again, had no reason to trust this man. 

But he did anyway, for lack of better judgment. Or, maybe he didn’t need a reason. He just needed a feeling. 

“Okay,” Dipper turned to face the man with resolve, “What’s the plan, William?”

Bill grinned at Dipper and wrote: 

Call me Will

Dipper looked mildly surprised, but smiled nonetheless. 

“Okay, Will, what’s your idea?”

Bill found a large roll of paper that spanned most of the work area and began to sketch his grand design. As he added more and more details, the shape began to form, and the effect of its grandeur began to sink in. Even he was amazed at his ability to bring this to life on paper. Exact dimensions, calculations, angles, and measurements littered the blueprints, down to even the most minute details. Wiping the sweat off his brow, Bill turned to Dipper, who had the widest grin on his face.

“Aw, hell yeah! This is so friggin’ awesome!” Dipper exclaimed. “Let’s do it!”

Bill grinned. This’ll show ‘em. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Week One: Gathering the Materials

The two worked gathering all kinds of wood, nails, saws, sanders, wood stains, and wood finishes. This was going to be perfect . All they had to do was keep everyone away for at least a few weeks, which was a lot harder than it looked. Dipper had told all of them to stay far from their secret project, but of course, no one listened. The first offender was Mabel, naturally. 

Bill was busy sawing wooden logs to their exact measurements when he heard a small… oink? He whipped around, but didn’t see anything. Mabel was here, obviously, but where, he didn’t know. He looked expectantly at Dipper, who was also sawing logs (pun not intended lol). Dipper scanned the area, and Bill noticed his cheeks balloon with held-in laughter. He stared at the same spot Dipper was, and spotted an unusually girl-and-pig-shaped bush planted a few feet away from them. If that wasn’t obvious enough, then the pink glitter trail was a dead giveaway. 

Dipper winked at Bill and put a finger to his lips, sneaking up on the bush. 

“Rahhh!!” He shouted as he dove into the bush, tackling his sister, who squealed and burst into giggles, the pig rolling from her arms onto the grass.

“Dipper, you caught us, nooooo!!!!” She cried with feigned despair, one eye closed, the other watching Dipper’s laughing face. Waddles let out a small oink, nudging Mabel slightly.

“Mabel, this is supposed to be a surprise!” He exclaimed in between breathless laughs. “We can’t work if you’re spying on us!” 

The glitter-covered girl sighed. “I guess you’re right. Like you always are.” She rolled her eyes, but her words held truth. She was never one to ruin a surprise for someone, as per her rules. She just wanted to mess with the pair a little bit.

 Mabel picked herself up off the ground, brushed her clothes off, and sauntered away with Waddles in her arms. 

“Hurry up, boys, you don’t want to keep a girl waiting!” She called, leaving them to their project.

Dipper snickered as she left, telling Will, “You heard what she said, back to work!”

Bill couldn’t help but smile at him. He was a lot more mature than your typical 14-year-old boy, and Bill actually liked talking to him. Well, not talking, exactly. Nevertheless, Bill was beginning to grow fond of the boy. And it sickened him. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Week Two: The Foundations 

After sanding, staining, and sealing all of the wood boards, planks, and slabs, Dipper and Will began to build the foundations of their great work. It didn’t go without interruption, though, with the second offender of their rule being the great Stanley himself. 

Bill’s deep-seated hatred of him was still ever-present, as he spotted the man wandering around trying to be sneaky and take pictures with an old-fashioned camera. It was big, bulky, and drew quite a lot of attention. And he wasn’t talking about the camera.

Dipper followed Bill’s line of sight, noticing that he was distracted. “What are you– Grunkle Stan!” He yelled, scolding the old man as he immediately took off, chasing after his uncle, who disappeared surprisingly fast for an old man.

And alas, Bill was alone with his thoughts. 

Why am I even doing this?

The first thought came as a surprise, but the more he dwelt on it, the more he felt like his brain was tearing itself apart.

Why? WHY? I have nothing to prove to these people! I just have to survive. But what’s the point? Why survive, why live even? My life in the Theraprism couldn’t even be considered life . I don’t have to be here, so WHY am I still HERE? Bill squeezed his eyes shut, planting his hands into the ground. He knew the answer. It was a pointless question. He didn’t do it out of a sense of debt towards the Axolotl; it wasn’t because he wanted to live, and it definitely wasn’t because he wanted redemption. What he wanted was oblivion. Death. Peace. Nothing. And it was infuriating to know that the one thing keeping him from this was one man who wished all of these things upon him once. He saw Dipper in the distance, still chasing Stan, who still held the obscenely huge camera. 

Bill suddenly became aware of something he hadn’t noticed until now. In the whole time he and Dipper had been working together, not once had the boy mentioned Ford. Or really, anyone else. Occasionally, he’d talk about his sister, or that girl Pacifica, whom he so obviously had a crush on, but no one else. Dipper had also stopped following Ford. When did he stop doing that? Bill wondered. Was it as soon as he got Theraprismed? Or was it after? Was it recent? Why the fuck did he care? Yet again, he knew why. Dipper wasn’t like Ford. Similar, yes; related by blood, also yes, but they were two different people. And for some fucked up reason, Bill was finally able to see that. They aren’t the same. Not even close. No one is , he realized. No one person is exactly the same as another. Bill was always different, wildly different, and he’d never once stopped to consider that maybe he wasn’t the only one. That maybe, everyone was different. 

A crunching noise swiftly caught his attention, bringing him back to the real world. It was Dipper.

“Hey, - wheeze - Will! Sorry about -gasp- that, Grunkle… spy… take… pictures…” the boy struggled to catch his breath as he flopped down onto the grass. He wasn’t out of shape, per se, for being a nerd, but running around long enough for someone to have a social-emotional breakthrough could do that to anyone. Bill gave the boy a thumbs-up. 

“I see you finished most of the foundation while I was away!” Dipper chuckled. Will gestured to him, Only with your help. 

The sun was beginning to set. Dipper noticed.

“Come on, Will, let’s go inside. We made great progress today. At this rate, we’ll be done in a little more than a week!” The boy smiled.

And for some reason, Bill smiled back. He had no obligations to this boy. He was only here for one person. But ever so slowly, unknowingly, one became two. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Week Three: Valentine’s Day?!

Bill had forgotten all about the wrenched holiday. Did he really know what it was? Kind of. He knew someone (probably Mabel) would educate him on it anyway. 

What bothered him most was that it interrupted their build time and would set them back more than a few weeks. I know you must be thinking, weeks? It’s only one day! Not in the Pines family, it wasn’t. Valentine’s Day was practically the entire month for these people! Soos and Melody would start selling Valentine's-themed merch for the Mystery Shack (with Stan’s help, of course) as soon as the month began. Mabel would be spreading “love” (read: glitter), everywhere until March, and Dipper would be nervously sweating about how he was going to make the day special for, he says, no one, but obviously Pacifica. At this point, the boy was only gaslighting himself into thinking that he wasn’t head over heels for the girl. Ford, well… who even knows what he does on Valentine’s Day? Mope in his lab, probably.

Bill sighed. He didn’t have anything to do this month either, and it would be horrendously rude to work on the project without Dipper. He groaned again, this time louder. He debated on whether he should roll on the floor dramatically and agonize about tomorrow, but he ended up passing out on his bed instead.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“HAPPY FEBRUARYYYYYYYY!!!!!!”

He didn’t open his eyes. He refused. He heard everyone slowly getting up, and more of Mabel shouting from downstairs. He already knew what awaited him, and he was sure it was horrifying. 

Finally, he decided to slide out of bed like a wet noodle and get dressed for what was sure to be the start of a terrible month, and an even more terrible day. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

It all started with breakfast. Glitter everywhere . Bill tried to sidestep the numerous traps laid out (glitter, cupcakes, banners, streamers, confetti, various bombs???) as he made his way to the kitchen. Only to be greeted with more of the same decor. 

Gingerly, he opened a cabinet, half expecting some Valentine’s jester to pop out, as he grabbed a plate and made himself some toast. Which was basically all he ate unless someone got up early enough to make everyone breakfast (usually Stanley with his pancakes). 

He triple checked his usual chair at the table, because paranoia, and then finally took a bite of toast. It tasted a little blander than usual. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a suspicious jar shining abnormally brightly with comically large sparkles floating menacingly around it. Bill never knew sparkles could look menacing, but somehow these ones did. He turned away, but was promptly smacked in the face with a sparkle.

“Ow!” He exclaimed angrily, a little hoarsely, after not having used his voice for months. He had no reason to hide it as of now, since everyone had gone out to breakfast at the diner for the holiday-themed pancakes. He felt a little left out. Okay, maybe a little more than a little. But whatever! He had the whole house to himself! 

Another sparkle hit his face. 

“Oh. My. Axolotl !” Bill growled at the twinkling jar. “What do you want from me?” The jar winked back in response. Bill gave it his mortal-killing side eye. Of course, nothing happened, since the jar was not a mortal. Boo. 

Before the jar had another chance to throw more sparkles at his already scarred face, he picked it up and read the label.

Strawberry preserves.

He narrowed his eyes at it, only recognizing one of the words. Before he could even think about throwing it against the wall, a noise made him freeze in place. 

“Good morning, Will.” 

Goddamn it. He knew that voice. Ford.

He turned around slowly, a slightly nervous smile on his face. Obviously, Ford hadn’t heard him talking to himself, or there would be a lot fewer pleasantries and a lot more questions.

The mystery jar was still in his hands. 

“Oh, do you like strawberry jam?” 

JAM. IT WAS JAM. 

Bill shrugged while also mentally berating himself for not knowing that “preserves” meant “jam”.

“You should try it!” Ford encouraged. “Everyone in the family likes it, especially Mabel. That’s probably her jar, but I bet she wouldn’t mind if you had some.”

Well, now the sparkles made sense. Bill was not entirely confident that Mabel “wouldn’t mind”, but he was willing to give it a try. And NOT because it might make her like him more. Nope, not at all. 

He managed to pop open the lid, but Ford had to help him awkwardly spread the jam over his mostly cold toast. 

Bill wished Ford would stop staring at him. 

Turning away slightly to make it less weird that Ford was watching him like a science experiment, he took a bite of his toast. At first, the texture was weird, but the more he chewed, the more he ended up liking the flavor. The feeling now becoming familiar, he took one bite after another and devoured the whole thing in less than a minute. Toast, upgraded. He side-eyed Ford, who had obviously gotten a clue and stopped staring at him. Thank Axie. He then side-eyed the jam jar, which had mysteriously stopped sparkling. Hmpf, stupid twinkle jar. 

Bill got up, taking his plate to the sink and washing it before putting it away. Routine, routine. He didn’t like it one bit. As a (former? current?) chaos demon, this frustrated the crap out of him. He needed to do something spontaneous. 

Walking out of the kitchen, he spotted Mabel, who froze when they made eye contact. She was holding what appeared to be– Oh fuck me sideways, Bill groaned in his head. A Valentine’s jester. 

Seeing that, he decided to walk out the front door. And was greeted with the sun, shining cheerily in his face. Oh, fuck, I forgot that glowing ball of plasma existed. It has been hidden by clouds for most of the winter, and it wasn’t nearly as bright. 

Whatever, I’ll just deal with it, he thought as he manifested some stylish sunglasses with his powers. He choked. Wait, his powers ? His head snapped down to scan his hands, which had a faint blue flame enveloping them. He resisted the urge to scream in victory. Instead, he opted to throw his hands in the air like he just didn’t care. And Ford chose that moment to come out of the Mystery Shack. 

Bill whipped around, sunglasses still on his face and hands still in the air like he was getting arrested. Ford just stared. Bill didn’t even give enough shits to be embarrassed right now, much less care about what he looked like. He was annoyed, because WHY does this keep happening to him? Can he not get a SINGLE moment of peace?

Ford began to speak. “Uh, I- where- never mind. Were you going anywhere in particular?” He seemed to have settled on a neutral question, but one that still happened to need an answer.

Bill shrugged. Not really. 

“I- okay then.” Ford looked like he wanted to say something else. Bill stared at him expectantly. 

“Do you want… company?”

He did not. At this very moment in time, Bill would like to be very much alone. Preferably so he could talk to himself, because man, his voice was getting rusty. Sadly, he could not say all of this, so he settled for a less dismal response. 

Bill shook his head gently and let a sliver of a smile show. 

Ford actually didn’t look too disappointed. “Be safe then, and try not to get into trouble,” he said as he waved and went back into the Mystery Shack. Ford sighed, knowing that Will needed some space and that he really needed to get out of the house.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!” 

Yes, the first thing Bill did when he ran into the forest was cackle maniacally. And yes, it did feel good to bathe in the once evil glory of his now statued triangular self. Don’t ask how he managed to find it. Evil always finds evil.

“Okay, Bill.” He began vocalizing his inner monologue. “You successfully managed to manifest some surprisingly cool sunglasses with your powers that sometimes work. Now, how can you make them always work?!” He kicked a rock in frustration. Then he threw some more at a tree that was definitely looking at him funny. 

“Well, you don’t know what it’s like to be having an existential crisis, now do you?!” He yelled at the tree. “Stupid tree. Stupid forest. UGHHHHHHH!” He flopped down on the grass and tried to summon the flames back. Nothing. He imagined world domination, supreme power, and being the ultimate overlord of the multiverse. Nothing. 

He sat up and noticed that while wallowing in his misery, the white t-shirt and light-colored jeans he had been wearing since he got here were covered in mud and suspiciously old snow. Damn, now I just wish I had some clean clothes. 

WHOOSH!

“ACK!” Bill shouted as he was enveloped in cyan flames. He smacked at his clothes, trying to frantically put out the fire, but it wouldn’t dwindle. His head swiveled quickly to see if he could spot a water source, but the flames had disappeared. In their place were new, clean clothes. Not even burn marks remained on his skin. Bill took this moment to stomp angrily around the clearing. 

“Do these stupid powers only work when I want new clothes?!” He screamed into the void. “Yes, clothes are cool and all, but I want dominion over all living things, not a personal laundromat!” He threw more rocks at the tree. 

“At least I still sound like myself, blah, blah, blah,” happy his voice hadn’t changed as he made some random Bill noises. The only thing missing was, as he liked to call it– 

“My god voice,” he fake sobbed, clutching his face and dragging his hands down his hollow cheeks. In more understandable terms, it was the supernatural metallic filter that his voice usually has.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” he decided. “If the only thing these powers can change is my appearance, I might as well–” As if lightning had struck him, a thought popped into his head. “Hmmmmm… ooh that’s devious! ” He grinned as wide as his face would let him as he ran to the nearest river to study his reflection, making sundry changes to himself along the way. 

“Hmm, can’t change myself too much, now can I? This gorgeous face was meant to be flaunted. Now, straight or wavy hair? Probably wavy. Slightly wavy,” he snickered to himself as he fixed his new look. “Tee hee, hair over the missing eye, not suspicious at all! Fitted pants, for sure. Black, a must. Shirt color? Uh…” As much as he wanted it to be yellow, he resisted the urge and opted for a loose white blouse and a dark cyan belt, with matching matte blue sandals. And since it was still a little chilly out, a knee-length black trenchcoat. Bill admired his reflection, twirling around once for good measure. Perfect. They’d never see him coming. 

Chapter Text

“Mabel, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Come on, Dipper, trust me!”

“You know I do, Mabel, but…”

“Just hurry up, okay?” 

A woman watched the two children through the window of a small coffee shop. She simply sat there. Didn’t order a coffee. Didn’t order a tea. 

She got up. 

“You don’t want to order anything, ma'am?”

She turned around, her blonde hair cascading down her back, flowing almost ethereally behind her. A small smile graced her lips. 

“No, I don’t think I will.”

It was almost a whisper. A voice so soft it could be a feather carried by the wind. 

Without another word, she sashayed out of the shop and trailed after the two children of interest. 

They were headed towards a small flower shop, where another blonde-haired girl, closer in age to the children, was working behind the counter.

Interesting… The woman thought, lurking behind a nearby light pole. 

“Mabel, wait, we need to do more planning!” The boy grabbed her hand and dragged her away from the flower shop. 

“But Dipper–”

They smacked into the woman. 

Mabel’s eyes widened. 

“Oh my goodness, ma’am, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

The woman blinked for a few seconds, not expecting an interaction this soon. Quickly composing herself, she smiled airily. 

“Yes, why thank you, little miss…”

“Mabel! And this is my brother, Dipper!” She beamed at the strange woman. “I haven’t seen you around town before. Are you visiting, moving in, or passing by?”

The blonde woman looked around. “Oh, just passing by, but who knows? I might just stay if I like the company.” She winked her one visible eye at them, the other covered by a wave of silky blonde hair. Dirty blonde, Dipper noticed. 

“I couldn’t help but overhear something you were saying,” she started. “Just words, really, but is there anything I could help you with? I wouldn’t want to be a bother, though.” Her words were almost whispers, as if she were speaking to herself. 

She noticed the boy’s face go red. His sister just laughed. 

“Well, do you see that girl in the flower shop? The blonde one, around our age?”

The woman nodded.

“That’s his girlfrieeeenddd~” She swooned, clasping her hands over her heart passionately. 

Dipper shoved her, going even redder in the face. 

“No, she’s not !” He protested, to no avail. 

The blonde woman’s laugh was delicate and breezy, but there was a sharpness to it that sounded eerily familiar. 

“So a crush, I see!” She twirled her hair around her finger, looking strangely youthful for being a seemingly middle-aged woman. 

“Now I really want to help you guys!” She beamed before noticing the boy’s strange look. “I have nothing better to do, and,” she paused, “you remind me of some kids I used to know.” 

Oh, she’s probably just some sad old lady (young lady?) who misses her family. I wonder what happened to them. Dipper was so deep in thought that he didn’t notice Mabel and the strange woman continuing the conversation. 

“So, what’s your name?” Mabel asked, her eyes shining with curiosity.

“Lillian.” She said lightly. “But you can call me Lily.”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

As the trio continued staring into the flower shop, Dipper noticed a few more things about Lillian. Her eyes had a slightly golden quality to them, as if they were almost yellow, and her pupil was more of a subtle slit than a circle. She walked with the confidence that her voice lacked, but at the same time looked like a small gust of wind could blow her over. At first, her skin had looked light, but in the sun, he realized it was more of a warm tan. She looked a lot like–

“Dipper, focus! This is your Valentine’s confession we’re trying to plan here!” Mabel flicked his forehead, interrupting his thoughts.

“Jeez, Mabel, the whole town doesn’t need to know!” He covered his face in embarrassment, peeking through his fingers to see if anyone had heard her.  

Lillian just giggled. “So, what was your plan, Miss Mabel?” 

Mabel cleared her throat. “Well, my original plan was to get Dipper to ask Pacifica out on some kind of romantic evening on Valentine’s Day, but…” she trailed off, her brow furrowed. “It needs to be more angsty and dramatic than that!” She exclaimed in frustration, throwing her hands in the air. 

“Mabel, this isn’t a fanfiction. You do know that, right?” Dipper’s face scrunched as he ran his hand through his hair. 

“You don’t know that!” She rolled her eyes. “What do you, the readers, think?” She says, and proceeds to stare at you, smiling. Yes, you . The person staring at the screen right now. We can see you–

“Oh my god, that’s the third time this week already! And it’s Monday!” Dipper griped, but sighed defeatedly. 

Lillian looked confused. Then, she turned towards you. Best not to tell Dipper his sister is right, she thought, side-eying you. You lucky son of a–

“Do you have any ideas, Lily?” Mabel looked at her, pleading. 

“Hmm,” the woman placed a finger on her lips, feigning thoughtfulness. “I do have one .” The brown-haired girl was almost glowing with enthusiasm. Best to give the readers what they want, Lillian decided with a smirk.

“But,” she continued, “I’m… not entirely sure it’ll work.” A hint of doubt crept into Lily’s voice, not wanting to make promises she couldn’t keep. For the sake of her pride, naturally.

“Why not? I’ll do anything, please !” Mabel was almost on her knees, begging the woman. “This has to work!” 

Lillian cringed inwardly. She knew why the girl was so desperate, but that was a can of worms just waiting to be opened. And this… wasn’t the best time for that. Not that she cared, anyway. 

She sighed, shaking her head and sneering ever so slightly. “Well, let’s just say we’ll have to have the gods on our side for this one.”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

There was a thunderstorm. 

Not unusual for the end of the rainy season, but highly unusual for the level of violent wind and merciless rain that came without warning and drenched the trio. Well, everyone except Lillian, who had her hooded trenchcoat. Convenient. 

“I didn’t actually think that would work…” she mumbled, barely audible over the sound of the storm around them. 

“What did you say?” Dipper yelled over the rain, turning towards her. 

“Oh, nothing, nothing!” She waved her hands in the air, smiling somewhat convincingly. “But, hey! Look on the bright side, my plan is working!” 

“Your plan?” Mabel followed Lillian’s gaze to the flower shop, which had just closed for the day. 

And Pacifica, huddled outside, looking quite scared. 

“Oh shit, Pacifica!” Dipper immediately ran towards her, through the thunder and rain. Did he have a plan after that? Probably not. 

“Yo, Dipper!” Mabel shouted after her brother. He turned around, already halfway to the flower shop. Now huddled under Lillian’s trenchcoat, she threw a singular umbrella at him.

“Go get your girl!” She grinned as he fumbled to catch the umbrella, and Dipper could see that Lillian was grinning too. Wait, where did the umbrella come from– you know what we’re not gonna question it today, Dipper. Not today. Shoving his thoughts aside, he ran to Pacifica. 

“Pacifica!” Dipper called as he hurriedly opened the umbrella over her head, shielding her from the rain.

“Oh, Dipper!” She startled at his sudden appearance. “What are you doing here?”

He decided on a half-truth. Better than saying, “me, my sister, and some random woman we met an hour ago were stalking you at your job” and expecting to ever be talked to again.

“Uh, well, I was going to buy some flowers and I saw you standing in the rain and–”

“You know what,” she interrupted him, “it doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t?” Dipper asked, face flushed and looking a little flustered.

“No,” she smiled as she hooked her arm through his. “Thank you. I guess…” She mumbled, turning her head away. Dipper blushed slightly. He could read her pretty well, despite her best efforts.

“Can I… walk you home?” He asked sheepishly.

She punched him in the arm. “Of course, dumbass! Where else am I going to go? You’re the one with the umbrella.” Pacifica rolled her eyes. “You could take me anywhere.” She looked at him and froze, realizing what she had just said. Her face turned red, and she moved to unlink their arms, but Dipper held his ground. 

He held her gaze, not letting her go. 

“Anywhere?” Dipper said, it being far too late to turn back now. “How about the Sugar Rain Cafe, tomorrow?”

Pacifica's eyes widened. Even Dipper was surprised at his own forwardness. He opened his mouth to take it back, say he was joking, but he saw her nod. Silent, but sure. 

“Should we get going now?” Dipper asked, timidness returning.

Pacifica nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her red ears. 

The rest of the way, they walked in silence. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“Here, take this.” Lily handed Mabel an umbrella.

The girl looked at it momentarily before understanding the plan.

“Yo, Dipper!” she shouted at her brother, getting his attention. He turned around, already halfway to the flower shop. She threw the umbrella at him. 

“Go get your girl!” She grinned at him and turned to see Lillian grinning too. 

Dipper clumsily caught the umbrella and raced toward Pacifica.

Mabel turned toward Lily. 

“How…” she struggled with how to phrase the question. “How did you know? I mean, was this your plan? Did you just happen to have an umbrella, or are you just prepared? How did you know it was going to rain?” 

Lillian looked at Mabel, who looked like she was about to explode if she didn’t get answers soon. Poor girl, Lily laughed in her head, maybe one day I’ll tell her. 

“This was exactly my plan.” 

Mabel’s jaw dropped.

“Before you go assuming things, let me explain!” Lillian put her hands in the air as far as she could while underneath the coat. “I put on my trenchcoat and brought an umbrella with me because I thought it might rain today. Rain season isn’t over till it’s over.” She chuckled. “The rest was just luck.”

“Luck?” Mabel asked incredulously.

“Yeah!” Lillian simpered. “My plan was to wait until Pacifica’s shift was over at the flower shop, wait for a sudden rain, and have them share my only umbrella so that Dipper could be her hero and ask her out on a date.” She stopped, suddenly self-conscious at the weight of Mabel’s stare. “Too complicated?” Lillian offered a shaky smile. 

“Too perfect ,” Mabel crossed her arms, pouting. Lillian rolled her eyes.

“Well, you can’t– urk !” Arms wrapped around Lily’s torso, cutting her off. 

“Thank you,” Mabel said softly, hugging the older woman.

“Oh, well… of course,” Lillian whispered, stunned. Her chest felt… off. Warm, and weird, like she… cared . 

That’s impossible! It’s Mabel. Why in the galaxy would I care about her at all? Lillian frowned, brushing off the weird feelings and replacing them with a vague anger directed at nothing in particular.  

“Oh, Lily, look!” Mabel gasped in joy. Lillian turned her head to see what Mabel was looking at. 

Dipper and Pacifica stood underneath her umbrella, blushing like two tomatoes having a heat stroke. Lillian noticed that Dipper looked… happy. 

“Your plan worked!” Mabel cheered gleefully. “High five!” She put her hand up, looking at Lily like she was waiting for something. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging!” Mabel nudged her shoulder, smiling.  

Uh, uh, uh, Lily’s mind raced, trying to remember what a high five was. Oh my Axolotl, for once in your life, remember something useful ! She racked her memory until she came upon something. The twins had done this before. 

Hoping to that stupid pink amphibian that she was doing this right, Lily raised her hand and smacked Mabel’s with it. 

The girl giggled, and Lily was worried that she’d totally embarrassed herself in front of a fifteen-year-old. 

“Come on, let’s go see how it went!”

Apparently not. 

With that, Mabel grabbed her hand and dragged Lily to the place she had just left.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The Mystery Shack. 

“We’re home!” Mabel yelled as she sped into the house.

The person there to greet them was Ford. 

Crap. 

Lillian wondered frantically if she should just disappear now, or make up an excuse or something, or–

“Welcome home, Mabel!” Ford interrupted her thoughts as he welcomed his niece back. He turned his gaze to Lily. “And, who’s this?” 

Mabel moved to introduce her, but Lillian cut her off.

“My name is Lillian, but you can call me Lily.” She gave a polite smile, making her voice even airier and lighter than normal. She was taking a huge risk by being here, and an even larger one by talking to Ford. Despite that, it was the only way to avoid suspicion. 

Ford’s gaze narrowed slightly, and Lily tried her best not to shrink under it. The blonde hair, the brown eye, even her smile. She looked so–

“Familiar. You look very familiar.” Ford spoke, his face unreadable. “Have we met before?”

A stream of curses crossed her mind. She tried to play it cool.

“No, I don’t believe we have,” she replied, her voice terse as her smile tightened. “I’m new in town, and haven’t quite decided if I’ll stay or go. Company’s been nice.” She glanced at Mabel, who beamed at her. 

“She’s really kind, Grunkle Ford! Aaaaand ,” Mabel’s smile grew sly, “She’s around your age! Probably.” The last word was more of a whisper.

Both Lily and Ford laughed awkwardly, but Ford knew she wasn’t wrong. This woman did seem to be very kind. And also happened to be very attractive. Which was strange, because the only two people he’d ever found attractive were–

“Welp, we better be on our way now byeeee!” Mabel hollered as she dragged Lillian away with her. 

“Oh, okay!” Ford slipped out a quick reply before she disappeared from sight. What was he thinking about, again?

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“EEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!” Mabel screamed when Dipper told her the news. He’d asked out Pacifica, and now they were going to celebrate Valentine’s Day with late-night desserts at the Sugar Rain Cafe.

“I’m so proud of you, Dipper,” Mabel pretended to wipe (real???) tears from her eyes as she wrapped him in a tight hug. 

Dipper let out a dry laugh. “Honestly, I’m shocked I managed to do or say anything!” He turned to Lillian and gave her the same piercing stare that Ford had earlier. “I’m curious, though, how you managed to pull off whatever plan that was.” A puzzled look crossed his face. “Was that even your plan? Could that be considered a plan?”

“Shhh, Dipper, don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” Mabel got on her knees and cradled Dipper’s head against her chest, petting his hair like she was trying to calm down a nervous cat. 

“Uh, okay? I trust you, Mabel. Still curious though…” he muttered. 

“Yay!” Mabel released him from her grasp. “Now, there’s only one more thing I have to do as Gravity Falls’s own personal cupid.” She winked, then focused her eyes on Lillian. 

Oh shit, I know that look. Lily groaned inwardly.

“Get you a date,” Mabel finished. “As a thank you for helping Dipper!” She glared pointedly at her brother, who she knew was silently disapproving of her plan.

“How about my Grunkle Ford?” She suggested innocently, batting her eyelashes. 

Lillian almost choked. She didn’t know what to say. Secretly, she had been planning to ask Ford anyway, since they both had nothing else to do that day and not because of other reasons at all. 

Screw it, this was happening one way or another. 

Lily put on her best lovestruck face. 

“Oh, well, he seemed like a nice man,” she giggled, hating every second of this pitiful display of affection. 

“Perfect!” Mabel clapped her hands together, grinning at her audience of two. “I’ll go talk to Ford!” She jumped up off the floor and ran down the stairs like a horde of wild dogs was after her.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“Grunkle Foooordddd~~~!!!!” Mabel called sweetly, seeing him at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Yes, Mabel, what is it?” He tilted his head, confused as to why she looked like she was going to burst with happiness. 

“I just got you a date with the hottest bachelorette in Gravity Falls!” She squealed, jumping up and down.

“Wait, you did what?” He blinked slowly, trying to process the words Mabel had just told him. 

The girl rolled her eyes. “I got you a date with Lillian tomorrow, at the Palais des Rêves, private room, 7 p.m. sharp.” She ignored Ford’s bewilderment. “Don’t be late!” Mabel flounced off, hopping back up the stairs to go tell her brother and Lily the good news.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Dipper and Lily had been sitting in awkward silence until Mabel came back up the stairs. 

“He said yeeeess!” She declared in a sing-songy voice. Well, not exactly, but it’s not like he was going to say no either, with the way he looked at Lily when she walked in, heheheheh, Mabel snickered inside her head. 

“Oh, thank you so much, Mabel!” Lily thanked the girl as she got up. “I guess I’ll get going now!” She turned around. “Oh, and good luck on your date, Dipper!” Lillian laughed as she left the room. 

“Thanks…” he replied quietly, blushing. “Hey, Mabel?”

“Yeah?” 

“Doesn’t Lily kind of remind you of–”

“William?”

“Yes!” Dipper lept off the floor, startling Mabel. 

“Wait, now that I think about it, they do look very similar!” She pondered. 

“I wonder if they’re related…” Dipper stared at the spot where Lillian had sat a few minutes ago, thoughts and theories running wild in his head.

“Or maybe Grunkle Ford has a type, who knows?” Mabel smirked at her brother.

“Ughh, are you still convinced that Ford is in love with Will?” Dipper grumbled, sighing. 

“Yes, I am, and since when do you call him ‘Will’?” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. 

“Since two weeks ago. Do you have proof?”

“Proof of what?”

He smacked his head. “That Ford likes Will!”

“Ohhh, no,” Mabel admitted. “But I’ll find some, I swear!” Determination radiated off of her in waves, and Dipper could sense her resolve. 

“We’ll see,” Dipper shrugged, allowing a faint smile. 

They’ll see indeed, Mabel’s mind whispered. That I’m right. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The big day was here. V-Day. A time for love, and puppies, and kissing, and LOVE. Okay, maybe not the puppies, but still. You get the point. 

Bill only had a few more hours to get ready. 

He was sorely unprepared for this. 

The man sighed. Welp, here goes nothing! 

SNAP! 

“Why, hello there, Lillian. Don’t you look lovely tonight!” Bill cooed at his reflection in the mirror. A middle-aged woman stared back at him, clad in an asymmetrical dark cyan dress with gold accents and matching gold jewelry. Her coat and shoes were black, with the heel of the shoe and ankle strap also being gold. 

He admired the earrings he had crafted. Small gold triangles cascaded down her ears like a waterfall, which matched the similarly shaped bracelets and lariat necklace that adorned her neck. 

Bill recalled what everyone else’s plans for the night were:

Stanley would be hanging out at the singles party Mabel was throwing at the Mystery Shack, despite protests from Dipper to be his wingwoman on his date with Pacifica at the Sugar Rain Cafe. Soos and Melody would be out on a romantic evening walk across the town, followed by dinner at the restaurant where they had their first date (minus the possessed animatronics, this time). The rest of the town had plans. 

He sighed. 

One hour left. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“Mabel, are you sure? ”

She fixed the collar on his shirt. “Yes, Dipper.” Mabel looked her brother in the eyes. “I trust you.” 

Dipper fiddled with the pockets on his slacks. “I’m just nervous, that's all.”

“You’ll be fine, Dipper!” Mabel smiled at him, giving him one last hug. “Now, go knock her socks off with how gentlemanly and on-time you are!”

Dipper laughed as he went out the front door.

“Thanks for everything, Mabel!”

As she watched him leave, a tear rolled down her cheek. 

“You too, Dipper.”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Ford looked at himself in the mirror one last time. 

Was buying a new suit really necessary?

Mabel had insisted, but in his opinion, his old suit would’ve been fine. 

He adjusted his tie, the golden prism-like jacquard pattern subtly reflecting light with each movement. He hadn’t worn this tie since…

Bill.

Ford pushed the thought out of his head. Bill was dead, and was not going to ruin what could possibly be one of the best nights of his life. 

With a gorgeous woman, no less. Ford smiled to himself. 

One hour left. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The Palais des Rêves, 7 pm, sharp.

They arrived at the same time. 

Ford observed Lillian’s blue dress, the color maddeningly familiar, but evading identification. She was stunning.

Lily noticed Ford’s new suit. What she wasn’t expecting was the all too familiar tie. She tried not to stare, but it was hard. Ford looked good for the first time she’d seen him in more than several decades. The urge to run away from this altogether was getting stronger by the minute. 

“Shall we?” Ford offered his arm to Lily, and she took it, smiling at the man.

Axolotl, why does he have to be so handsome? Lillian’s face flamed inside her head, hoping Ford couldn’t feel how fast her heart was beating. She wished she could rip it out. 

When they arrived inside, they were taken to a private room that had an almost 270-degree view of the surrounding area. Large glass windows framed the late-night Oregon forests, with the stars clearly visible due to the lack of light pollution. 

The stars… Lillian went rigid, forgetting Ford was there. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” His soft gaze landed on the woman beside him.

She looked him in the eyes. 

He can see them too. 

“Yes, they are.” She whispered in return.

As they got to the table, Ford took her coat and pulled out the chair for her.

Lillian thanked him and sat stiffly, not knowing what to do next. She’s been on plenty of dates, but none of them were ever like this. 

And none of them were ever human , she chuckled dryly to herself.

A waiter came into the room and offered them two menus. 

“Welcome to the Palais des Rêves, the Palace of Dreams! My name is Billie, and I’ll be your server tonight.”

Ford tensed. And so did Lily , he noticed, even more suspicious of his date sitting across the table. 

“Our specials tonight are the carpaccio de poulpe, which will be our octopus carpaccio lightly marinated in…”

As Billie listed off the specials, Ford did some mental cataloging. What did he really know about this woman? Mabel liked her, for starters, but her judge of character could be hit or miss. From what he could tell, Dipper didn’t hate her, but didn’t trust her either. She looked familiar, and no one looked familiar to Ford, since he’s only talked to about… five other people besides his family. He never paid attention to anyone else. Lillian also happened to be the only woman he’s ever been attracted to. Which, to him, raised flags. 

He definitely wasn’t straight, but never took the time to invest in whatever terms the kids were using nowadays. He just knew that the only other two people he’d been attracted to were both men. If Bill or Will could be considered men. Aliens that appeared to be of the male gender, are what he decided on. 

Wait, Will is human. Isn’t he?

“Would you like any appetizers to start?” Billie finally finished. 

Ford looked at Lily, who shook her head. 

“No, thank you,” Ford answered quickly despite the information raging through his head. 

Billie smiled. “Do you know what you’ll be having tonight, or would you like some time to look over the menu?” 

“We’d like some time, please,” Ford said politely. 

The waiter nodded and left the room.

Watching his date, Ford decided to go on the offensive.

“Are you okay, Lillian?”

She flinched, the movement barely registering in Ford’s brain.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine, haha!” Her laugh was forced, and he could tell. 

“Do you know the waiter? If they’re making you uncomfortable, I could–”

“No, they aren’t,” she interrupted, looking him dead in the eye. “I, just– I…” Lillian took a breath, knowing Ford could sense her lies. “I just knew someone named Bill once.” Not a lie. Sort of the truth if you really think about it. 

She saw Ford’s face drain of color. 

Now she was on the offensive. 

“Are you okay, Ford?” Lillian pretended to look concerned, pushing for a reaction she didn’t even know if she wanted. 

He sighed. 

“I… also used to know someone named Bill.” 

Hehe, right into my trap , she thought gleefully, but really didn’t want to relive Ford’s retelling of their past for a second time.

“Oh, maybe they were the same person?” She offered, feigning intrigue. 

“I doubt it,” he laughed. “The Bill I knew was cruel and cold, and hurt everyone around him. He…” Was an interdimensional dream demon who tried to take over the world , Ford thought, but concluded that that wasn’t an appropriate sentence for a first date. 

“He… tried to control everyone around him to do as he pleased, and silenced anyone who didn’t agree with him.” Ford looked at Lillian, worried he was oversharing. Her eyes were glittering with interest. Keep going, they said, like Ford could read her mind. 

“I helped him for a long time, not knowing his true intentions. I finally realized that when he’d crossed the line and hurt my family.” He saw her eyes flicker with another emotion, one he couldn’t decipher. He continued. 

“I thought we had something together, but he was just leading me on. I was young and delusional.” Ford paused, choosing his next words carefully. “He’s dead now, but sometimes the memories still haunt me.”

“I see,” Lillian said, her voice soft. “The Bill I knew was also cruel and cold, and I don’t want to assume anything but, did you know much about your Bill’s past?”

Ford’s brow furrowed. 

“I suppose not. He was extremely secretive.”

Lillian saw an opportunity. 

“Well, my Bill, as I said, was as cruel as they come. But, he wasn’t always like that.” She could see the interest deep within Ford’s brown eyes. This was going to be difficult, but she had to push through. She had to tell someone .  

“The dimens– town where he was from was very… conservative , to say the least,” she shrugged. “He had ideas that a lot of the citizens didn’t like. They wanted to silence him, for good. His mother and father protected him for as long as they could, but they couldn’t stop the inevitable.” She swallowed. “There was an accident. A fire. It killed the whole town, including his parents. It was his fault, and he had to live with that for the rest of his life.” Her fingers curled on the table. “When I met him, I thought he was charming, and perfect, and everything I wished I was. I learned things from him, and I witnessed his destruction firsthand. Hell, I even helped him!” She laughed, but it was bitter. Ford looked sympathetic. 

“After a while, he got…” she searched for a word. “Arrested,” she settled on, “and sent to therapy.” A pause. “When he was released, he had changed. The cruel man I once knew wasn’t there anymore. I had asked him what happened, and he told me everything. That the therapy hadn’t worked, and that they were running out of ideas. He wasn’t going to live. But then, something unexpected happened. He made connections with the people that he had hurt. He realized that they were more than objects to play with and that they were people. They changed him.” Her smile was wry.

“That was our last conversation, and I haven’t seen him since.”

Ford looked stunned. He didn’t have the right words. He didn’t have any words. He was just grateful that Mabel had booked them a private room. If this had been in the main room, he would have never heard what Lily was saying. Mabel most likely knew that too, smart girl, he smiled to himself. She also knew that Ford had some mild social anxiety, but that was a conversation for a different time. 

They didn’t hear Billie come in. 

“Are you ready to order?”

Lily panicked, but Ford ordered first.

“I’ll have the pappardelle and a bottle of the Chateau Haut-Brion, 1996,” Ford thanked Billie as they took the menu from him. “Oh, and a chocolate soufflé,” he added. 

“Excellent choice, sir.” They turned to Lily. “And for you, madam?”

“Uh, I’ll have the um,” she scanned the menu, looking for something safe. “I’ll have the black truffle risotto,” she said, giving the waiter a nervous smile.

“One of my favorites!” They returned Lily’s smile and took her menu.

“I’ll be right out with those!”

Billie left. 

“Um, Ford, what did I order?” Lily laughed softly, but he could see she was worried. 

“Risotto is a dish composed of rice and cheese, served warm, and at this particular restaurant, they added mushrooms. Black truffle is a fungi, like mushrooms, that have a different, more distinct taste,” he finished. God, he sounded like a nerd.

“You really know you’re stuff, don’t you!” Lily looked at him, her smile bright. 

“I do, don’t I?” A slight blush appeared on his face, hands fidgeted under the table.

She looked like she wanted to say something else. 

“What is a soufflé?” Her voice somehow managed to get even quieter, and Ford barely heard her. 

“I’m sorry, I… don’t know much about food,” she mumbled, shame and frustration written all over her face.

“Hey, it’s okay! There are a lot of foods I don’t know about either!” He reassured her. “A soufflé is a type of dessert that is baked to rise and be airy. Here, they serve it by deflating it with a spoon and pouring ice cream and hot fudge in the center.”

“Oh, that sounds delicious!” Her face brightened, seeming more relaxed. Ford suddenly remembered something.

“Shoot, I’m sorry, Lily!” Ford’s forehead creased in worry. “I didn’t even ask if you drink.”

“Hey, it’s okay, I do!” Lily smiled gently, though her preferred beverages were mainly fruity cocktails. She wasn’t a fan of wine. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Five glasses and a good meal later, she’d changed her mind. She wasn’t a fan of wine. She was a fan of good wine. And for the first time in a millennium, she was enjoying herself. 

The risotto she ordered was delicious, and the soufflé was surprisingly sweet and soft. 

Lily felt that the dinner was coming to an end, but she didn’t want it to. After tonight, she’d go back to her life of silence and caution, never knowing when it would end. She couldn’t stay Lillian, and she didn’t want to stay Lillian. The personality he’d created for her turned into something he loathed. Since he had been Will for so long, he’d wanted her to be more like his old self, strong and confident. Not the ditzy mess she’d been reduced to in order to keep herself safe and her identity a secret. She sighed. Patience was always something she’d struggled with. 

Billie returned once more, and Ford asked for the check.

When they left, Ford smiled, both tipsy from the wine and having flirted with Lily all night.

Lily was also tipsy. And she had also flirted back.  

A few minutes later and the bill was paid.

They were leaving.

Ford got up first, only swaying slightly from the alcohol. He walked over to Lily and pulled out her chair for her as she got up. 

She stumbled, getting up too fast, not able to catch herself, but Ford was quick. 

He wrapped his arm around her waist and caught her, their faces inches apart, time stopping as the air filled with unspoken words. 

It was the damn rooftop all over again, in more ways than he would ever care to admit.

Lily stared at him with her brown eye, feeling heat rising to her face.

Maybe she’s the one, Ford thought drunkenly. Oh, shut up and get a hold of yourself! She probably doesn’t even feel the same way.  

The look she was giving him told him otherwise. 

He moved to brush the hair out of her face, but she grabbed his wrist, stopping him. 

“Lily, do you–”

“Oh shut up and kiss me already.” 

Ford’s face turned a deep red as she closed the distance between them, pressing their lips together in a soft, yet passionate kiss. He felt her hands around his neck, her body pressing into his as the moonlight spilled in through the windows, illuminating their silhouettes against the clear night sky. The stars twinkling mischievously, seemingly watching the midnight strangers embrace over and over as if they were old lovers. 

Ford gripped her waist tighter as the kiss grew fierce, their breathing shallow and quick as their touches became hot and needy. He lifted Lily onto the table as his hands trailed farther down her back and up her thigh, relishing the feeling of her hands tangled in his hair. 

“Sixer I–” she breathed quietly, before catching her mistake. 

Fuck.

Ford fixed a dazed look on the woman. “What did you say?” It was more of a request than a question. He hadn’t heard her.

“Nothing,” she smiled for a second before pulling him closer, granting his request by softly biting his lip and roving her tongue around his mouth as he did hers. 

She gasped for breath as they broke apart, Ford trailing kisses down her neck, each place his lips touched flushing red. 

Lily opened her eyes, unwillingly snapping back to reality. The lustful haze had thinned, allowing for a coherent thought to form in her mind. 

This is wrong. 

She shouldn’t be here, doing this, deceiving Ford. 

Again. Deceiving him again . No matter how good it felt to be like this with him after all these years apart. 

He deserved better. 

“I’m sorry,” Lily whispered in his ear, pressing a small white cloth to his face.

“Wh–” Ford slumped forward, but she caught him, laying him down gently on the floor. He hadn’t even had a chance to react. 

Lillian shed her disguise, melting back into the middle-aged man she always was beneath the mask. He glanced at Ford’s sleeping form, whose chest rose and fell with each small breath. 

Bill turned away, searching the night sky with eyes that reflected the stars like white fire.

“Clock’s ticking, Sixer. I won’t be here forever.”