Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bill turns in his uncomfortable bed. Hearing it creak beneath him is infuriating. He looks out of the window with an eye that isn't his, and sees that it's still dark out. He checks the clock on the wall, which is ticking annoyingly, and it reads 5:36 AM. Only 10 minutes until staff comes to wake him up.

Bill turns back on his bed, trying to go back to sleep, but his stupid human body refuses.

The worst, absolute worst part of this place is that they forced him into a human body. Said it would help him understand humans and why they do what they do, their morals or some bullshit like that.

All Bill knows is that he wants out of it.

He hates most of all that he was the last Euclidian. And now they're all gone. Thanks to him.

Looking back outside the window, he sees the stars. Shining so bright, like they were always meant to be seen by every creature in the universe.

Bill grumbles, not really wanting to go down that path until he's at least had breakfast.

If he could, he would just walk out of his room, but apparently he's deemed "a threat to himself and others" so they keep his door locked at night. It's infuriating.

Bill glances at the clock again, trying to remember how to read an analog clock, and it reads 5:43. He decides to get up and get dressed before anyone tries to wake him up, when he's already awake.

But he decides he doesn't want to change out of his sleeping clothes, his sweatpants with no drawstring and shirt that's far too loose. So he just slips on the socks they gave him with the grips on the bottom.

As if on cue, a staff member pops in quickly to wake him.

"Oh, good, you're already up! Good morning!" She smiles, or at least Bill thinks she does. It's kinda hard to tell considering she's made of light.

He grumbles in response and slips out of his now unlocked room, heading to the headache-inducing communal dining area.

"Hey there, Billy! Lookin' like a good morning, huh?" Bill's least favorite staff member, an almost human-looking guy, except he has sharp teeth and like, eight eyes. Bill can't count, it's too early for that. He also hates him because he's so annoying. And he looks a little too much like... him for comfort.

Bill grumbles in response to him, not ready to put up with his shit today.

"Don't call me Billy." Bill frowns, slightly matted hair falling over the bright blue scar on his face. Of course they kept that when giving him a human body.

"Sorry, sorry." The doctor finally walks away, spotting the coworker he's clearly crushing on. Thank god, Bill would rather die than hear that guy speak ever again.

Bill begrudgingly sits at one of the tables, alone. Everyone else around him scoots away or gives him a weird look. Even in a place full of insane people like him, he's still weird. Fuck.

"Do you have a problem?" Bill finally growls at the spider girl that was staring at him with a disgusted look on her face.

"No, no.. Sorry." She turns back to the rest of the people at her table, whispering to them. Isn't that fun.

Breakfast is eggs and bacon. Bill hates eating. Back when he was in his real form, he would have the occasional bite to eat every now and then just for fun. But now that he has to do it, he hates it. And the stuff they give him tastes like garbage anyway. He usually doesn't eat, but unfortunately his (disgustingly) human body insists on him putting something in his mouth and mushing it up with his teeth and swallowing. Ew.

As he eats he heard screaming coming from one of the other patients, and a staff member trying to calm them down and restrain them. He knows alot about that. Not great usually.

Breakfast wraps up quicker than usual, or maybe it just feels quicker. Bill can't really tell anymore.

"Alright everyone, it's time for our group talk therapy session! Everyone get into your assigned groups, and a staff member will bring you to your room for therapy." The same lady that woke him up earlier announces once everyone is done with their food.

Bill grumbles. He was hoping art therapy would be first today.

Bill begrudgingly walks over to his group which he hates, consisting of an ear (not his henchmaniac, Giant Ear), a weird ass wizard, Saturn Devouring His Son, and The Black Cube of Darkness. The therapist is a... dragon?? He isn't really sure.

"Welcome back everyone! Today we'll be discussing rehabilitation and our futures, how we see ourselves growing as people!" The therapist announces, and a table with chairs appears in the middle of the room.

"Now, I'm sure you all must be nervous to talk about your futures, so I'll go first." The therapist says. Bill sits back in his chair. This might be a minute. This guy is known for talking way longer than he has to.

"First of all, what is rehabilitation? Well, it means turning over a new leaf for yourself, fixing things you've done wrong and becoming a better person," He explains, and Bill groans out loud.

"Is there a problem, Bill?" The therapist, who he's pretty sure is named Dr. Vega, asks, raising what Bill assumes is a brow.

"Yeah, I've got some problems. I don't know about the emotional intelligence of these guys over here, but I'm not stupid. I know what rehabilitation is. Can we get on with this?" Bill rolls his eye, crossing his arms.

"Well, Bill, I'm just making sure none of us have any tainted views of what rehabilitation is." Dr. Vega glares at him, and Bill huffs, but doesn't respond. He really wishes he could blow this guy up.

"As I was saying. Many of you may not know this, but I too used to be a troubled soul. I caused many problems that I regret deeply now, but this place helped me see my wrongdoings and was able to help me become a better person." Dr. Vega explains, writing something, probably about Bill's little outburst, on his clipboard as he talks.

The wizard hums, clearly taking this dumb story to heart.

"In my future, I see me helping other poor and troubled souls to find their way and become better versions of themselves!" Dr. Vega smiles, folding his clawed hands on his lap.

The others in Bill's group clap at the "moving" story.

"Who would like to go next?" Dr. Vega motions to Bill to try to urge him to participate, but Bill just scowls at him. He'll die before he willingly participates in these stupid therapy sessions.

"I'll go, Dr. Vega," The Ear pipes up, floating annoyingly next to Bill. Dr. Vega nods to it, allowing it to speak.

"Well, I kinda like, totally destroyed a bunch of dimensions. And turned my mortal enemy into a 94 Dimensional beast. Uh, not sure I completely regret that one.." The Ear drones on and on, and it goes in one ear out the other for Bill. Get it? Ear? Bill snickers at his own joke to himself.

"Anyway though, like, in my future I wanna find a head to connect to. Or maybe be a mushroom, that sounds pretty fun." The Ear concludes, and the rest of them clap at the story. Again.

"Saturn? Would you like to go next?" Dr. Vega asks, and Saturn Devouring His Son shakes his head.

"I don't got a lot to say. I ate my son. He tasted good." Saturn shrugs, and Bill surpresses a laugh. These guys are all fucking stupid, but Saturn is semi -bearable.

"Well... That's okay. If you were to be reincarnated after being rehabilitated, what would you like to be?" Dr. Vega asks nervously, jotting something down on his clipboard.

"Uh, probably like, a bird. But birds from Dimension 53:/* in specific." Saturn shrugs again. Bill laughs to himself again. "Birds" (more like flying skinless fingers) from Dimension 53:/* are known for eating their children.

"I see.. Er, would anyone else like to share? Any volunteers?" Dr. Vega looks around the room again, eyes landing on Bill and trying to get him to participate again, but Bill rolls his eye.

"I wanna be a caterpillar." The wizard with a voice that hurts Bill's unfortunately human ears pipes up.

"That's great! Caterpillars are delightful creatures!" Dr. Vega smiles, looking happy that such an innocent creature was mentioned.

"Well, I guess if no one else wants to participate, I can't force you. But I want everyone to think about what life could be like as a different creature!" Dr. Vega stands, holding his clipboard to his chest.

Bill huffs, glad they're finally done with all that.

Bill starts heading back to his room to get a nap in, as there isn't much else to do, when he's stopped by a staff member.

She grabs his shoulder gently, but Bill flinches away aggressively.

"Don't touch me!" Bill growls, eye turning red, although he can't do much without his powers.

"Oh, I'm very sorry Bill. I'm Dr. Light, your new art therapist. I wanted to introduce myself." Dr. Light, who he'd seen around before, tells him.

"New art therapist? God, I hope the old one died. That'd be pretty funny." Bill grins at the thought. He didn't particularly like his old art therapist.

"Ah.. No, well. He quit, and his memories were wiped. That's all." Dr. Light explains, her face made of light too bright for Bill to look directly at in this dumb form.

"Well if no one died, I don't care. I'm going to nap." Bill grumbles, a bit angry now that the guy didn't die.

Dr. Light doesn't respond, just walks away nervously. It's clear shes a little scared of him. Good.

"Bill!" This guy again. His least favorite staff member he hasn't bothered to learn the name of that just loves bothering him.

"If one more fucking person tries to talk to me I'm going to kill everyone in this stupid place and flip your organs inside out." Bill warns, eye turning red again. But the doctor continues.

"Sorry to be a bother, but I wanted to ask if you know anyone by the name uh.. Stanford Pines?"

Bill's face drops.

"We found a few documents about your past while researching, and his name popped up in a few of them-" The doctor tries to continue, but Bill lunges at him before he can continue.

"Woah, woah!" He tries to hold Bill back, and unfortunately succeeds. God damn him for being trained to deal with this stuff.

" I'M GOING TO KILL YOU ." Bill shouts, attempting to claw all of his stupid eyes out, but his claws are dulled and clipped daily, so it doesn't do much.

" Bill !" The doctor grabs his arm and holds it against the other, restraining him until someone else comes for assistance.

"Some help over here!" He calls to the other staff, who rush over with a restraining jacket.

"No! NO ! You can't make me!" Bill screams, his head feeling like it might explode and his arms struggling to get free. He goes to bite at the person trying to get him into the jacket, but misses.

Someone finally is able to hold him still enough to get the jacket on and tie it at the back, then fasten it tighter so he can't move his arms.

"What happened?" One of them asked, and the doctor that antagonized him shrugs.

"I-I don't know, I asked him about that name we saw in the documents, and he freaked out!" He explains, and Bill seeths at the mention of him again.

"If I had my powers, you would all be burnt to a crisp and turned into a necklace!" Bill yells, his voice becoming hourse with his yelling. He tries to bite again, and another person straps a muzzle onto his face, while he struggles. They lead him away to a white padded room. Who do they think they are? This is the Bill Cipher they're messing with! The immortal dream demon with infinite power and knowledge!

He's tossed into the padded room, only accompanied by a set of crayons and paper, which are useless since his hands are tied. Literally. Bill screams to be let out, trying to bang his head against the door, but to no avail.

Instead, he feels wetness falling from his eyes. Another stupid human reaction from this stupid human body that he never wanted!

"This is stupid." He finds himself mumbling to himself, tears now falling freely from his face, unable to wipe them away as his arms are tied.

This is pathetic. Absolutely pathetic .

He can't even handle the mention of his name without freaking out? And they think he can be rehabilitated? Ha! Everyone in this building is an idiot. Including himself.

He stays in there for far too long, the doctors checking on him periodically. But every time they try to talk to him, he glares at them with a threat in his eyes.

Stanford Pines.

God, he really did have everything. He had a devoted worshipper, who was smart and so eager to please his Muse. Bill took it all for granted. Leaving for months in his time just to make him want to crawl back even more. This man would have done anything for him, and Bill treated him like a pet. Honestly, he isn't sure Ford even minded being treated like a pet.

Bill wonders that maybe, just maybe , if he could go back and redo everything, maybe if he told him the truth from the beginning, he would have joined Bill. Maybe if Bill didn't base his existence on lies, he would still have him.

He knows he wouldn't, though. If he could go back, he wouldn't change a single thing. Maybe that's why he's here anyway. Maybe he's supposed to want to change the past. But what's the point in wanting to change the past if it's already set in stone?

Bill wonders what it would be like if Ford joined him. They would rule the world together. Not even just the world, every single galaxy and dimension would be at their fingertips. Together, of course. And maybe Bill would even allow a few people of Ford's choice to live. His Sixer would own galaxies, be known as completely Bill's, and no one would dare go near him. Ford would worship him like he used to, and would never have any want or need to leave him.

He lays down on the floor and cries. Absolutely pathetic. He used to have it all, now he's in a straitjacket and muzzle in a white padded room crying on the floor.

What has he turned into?

Chapter Text

At some point apparently Bill fell asleep in the room, laying on the ground with his overgrown matted hair splayed out on the floor. And apparently he was also forgotten about, because no one came to get him at 5:45 like usual. 

He bangs on the door to get someone's attention, and after a minute or two of banging on the metal door it cracks open, the same doctor from the day before (Dr. Light) peeks inside and makes sure that he isn't actively going through an episode or is violent. 

"..Everything okay, Bill?" Dr. Light asks gently, a stark difference to how people usually yell and scream at him. 

"Uh huh. I'm hungry, no one came to wake me up earlier." Bill complains, glancing at the clock that read 8am. Truthfully, time doesn't actually pass here, but the staff like to simulate day and night and time so that the patients have a good routine. 

"Oh my, I'm sorry. If I'd known you were here I'd have came to get you." Dr. Light's shine softens, her face less bright than usual. She steps inside fully, closing the door behind her. 

"Well, I technically can't let you out without authorization. But, I can undo your restraints!" Dr. Light sits on the floor next to Bill, gesturing to his tied arms and muzzle. 

"..Okay." Bill nods, just ready to be out of these stupid things that make him feel like an object. 

"Really, they aren't supposed to keep you in these for longer than they have to. I'll have to talk to my higher-up about it." Dr. Light muses while she carefully undoes the restraints, careful not to make any sudden movements or loud noises if she can help it. Bill just hums in reaponse, appreciating her quietness. 

Before he was dumped here, Bill truthfully used to enjoy chaos and loudness and using all your senses and more at once, but now.. with everyone being so angry at him all the damn time, it's nice to have some quiet. Ford used to like the quiet. He probably still does. Bill never understood, why be silent when you can make annoying noises that make people want to cover their ears?

But honestly, he gets it now. If he's ever on good terms with him again..

Nevermind. That'll never happen. Not that Bill wants it to, anyway. He's better off without the stupid human weighing him down. 

"There. Better? You might want to stretch a bit since you were restrained all night." Dr. Light tells him, letting him move his arms around and crack his knuckles, his infuriatingly human muscles aching like crazy. 

"Well, if that's better, I can go find someone to let you out of here, and I'll take you to the cafeteria to grab some breakfast. Okay?" Dr. Light practically whispers, her voice gentle. Reminding Bill of his mo.. Whatever. 

"Sure, whatever. I'm starving over here." Bill complains again, but honestly he's glad she came instead of someone else. 

"Alright, I'll be back, Bill!" Dr. Light stands and smiles (he thinks, at least, since she doesn't have an actual face), leaving Bill by himself again. 

Bill peeks out of the little slot in the door where food is handed to patients, watching staff walk past him and listening to their chatter (some in other languages) while he waits. 

Dr. Light returns with another doctor who seems to be supervising. 

"You may let him out, but beware. He may get violent. He is a high risk patient." The other doctor says monotonously, and Bill rolls his eyes. 

"I can hear you, you know?" Bill grumbles through the door, but the other doctor ignores him and just opens the door slowly and cautiously. Bill hates being treated like a bomb that might go off any moment. He should be treated like an explosion that's already exploded. They should be scared of him. Why is there pity in the eyes of everyone who looks at him?

He is a God. 

Was. 

-----

"Stanley, you said the kids were coming today, correct?" Ford asks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. 

"Eh? Oh, yeah. Can't believe they're gonna be 15 this year." Stanley shakes his head in disbelief as he pours himself a cup of coffee. 

"Mind making me a cup?" Ford asks, sitting down on the couch by the TV. 

"Sixer, you don't need coffee at all. How many cups did you have last night? Three?" Stanley shakes his head, hand on his hip. 

"Hey, three is better than my normal six!" Ford defends, laughing a bit. 

He enjoys this. Just him and Stanley until the end. He wishes he could have been there for those 30 years he missed, wishes he could have been there when Mabel and Dipper were born and held them as tiny babies. He can just imagine how squishy they were. He wishes he'd just went sailing with Stan instead of trying to work on that dumb portal that ruined his life. 

But it was all worth it for moments like these, where they just are together and are happy. Nothing could possibly ruin this. 

"No coffee for you." Stan nudges Ford's shoulder as he sits next to him, but hands him a cup of tea. 

-----

"Bill, your psychiatrist would like to speak with you." A voice calls into Bill's room, interrupting his counting of fake glowing stars on his ceiling. 

"Do I have to?" Bill grumbles, annoyed that he was interrupted, but he already lost count. 

"Yes. Please follow me to his office." The staff member waits for him to get up. 

Bill follows them to the office he knows too well. He's been there too many times. Usually after every lash out he goes and has to take tests to confirm his 'mental disorders'. 

Once he arrives, he sits down across from him. His psychiatrist, Dr. Warden, is a giant squid with too many limbs and tentacles to be comfortable. Bill really hates him and hates looking at him even more. 

"Bill, I see you've had another incident?" Dr. Warden hums, his glasses slipping down his ugly slimy face. 

"Well, it's not my fault I was clearly in a bad mood and was provoked!" Bill rolls his eye, sitting back in the chair. 

"That does not warrant you lunging at a staff member and trying to bite them." Dr. Warden shakes his head. Again, ugly and slimy. 

"Well maybe you should train your employees better so they know when not to talk to me! And!" Bill continues, getting angrier. "I was forgotten about and left in that fucking white padded room with a straitjacket and muzzle ALL NIGHT!" Bill's eye turns red, though he can't do anything. He has no powers. At least none that could make him be able to actually hurt someone. 

"I understand your anger, Bill-" Dr. Warden tries to speak, but Bill interrupts him, slamming his fists on the desk. 

"I'm not done. I am constantly treated like an object or some kind of fucking oddity! I'm sick of it! I hate this stupid place and I wish I'd just died instead of be here!" Bill yells, breathing heavily from anger. Dr. Warden seems unmoved. 

"Are you done?" Dr. Warden asks, not looking up from his papers. 

Bill nearly rips his head off from that, but as he's planning how to do it, Dr. Warden speaks again. 

"Look, Bill. I'm sorry that happened, it was a mistake on our part. But you need to understand that you are not well in the head. You are a threat to yourself and others, and we are starting to believe you cannot be redeemed. We have waited lightyears for you to come to your senses, and you've shown little to no progress." Dr. Warden looks at Bill with a serious look in his eyes, tentacles folding over his desk. 

"If you cannot show us that you are at least willing to try and be better, then we'll have no choice but to dispose of you." Dr. Warden says with finality. 

"Fine! Fucking kill me I.." Bill starts, but stops himself. If they kill him, there really won't be any more of him. He is the last one. Sure, he isn't a Euclidian right now, since he was stuffed into a meat suit, but.. There's got to be a way to go back. He knows there is. And he can't let them kill the last of his species. 

"Are you ready to cooperate?" Dr. Warden raises a brow, jotting something down on a paper. 

He will not be the last of his kind. 

Chapter Text

Bill doesn't know how long it's been. 

Doesn't know how long he's been trapped here, waiting for something to happen. Maybe one of his henchmaniacs will come save him. Maybe if he'd treated them better they would. Well, he knows Pyronica tried. But she was caught and sent to another location to spend time in therapy as well. 

Doesn't know how long he's just been waiting. Waiting. Waiting. 

The only upside is that his new art therapist, Dr. Light, the quiet one, is.. well, he won't admit he doesn't mind her presence. But she is more tolerable than most of the assholes here. 

He knows it's been a while since his conversation with Dr. Warden. Nothing has changed. Maybe he's right. Maybe Bill really is sick in the head and maybe it'd be better if he just died. But Bill Cipher is not one to back down or give up. 

"William LuCipher, please come to room B126. Thank you." The intercom chimes, starting Bill. Another thing he hates about this body, how easily it gets scared from nothing. 

Groaning, Bill gets up from his bed where he was plotting his escape that would never happen and counting the fake stars again, not bothering to change from his sleep clothes. 

Groggily walking down hallways, twists and turns that seem neverending, his vision blurry from waking up not too long ago. People snickering at him as he walks past the cafeteria, whispering to each other. They act like they are so much better than him. Like they aren't here for getting caught too. 

Finally, he makes it to the room he was called into. He had to look around for it, since it wasn't a room he recognized. 

Inside sat Dr. Warden (great, this guy again) and.. an empty chair?

"Hello, Mr. Cipher." A deep and warm voice comes from the chair. Is that a talking chair? Not the strangest he's seen around the galaxy, but he has never seen one around here. 

"Ehem, down here." The deep voice calls again, and Bill leans forward to see a small sea creature sitting on the chair wearing glasses, a button up shirt, and tie. 

"One moment, let me just.." The small creature climbs up onto the desk and resituates itself. 

"Pfft, you look dumb." Bill snorts, the scene in front of him laughable. 

"Silence!" The creature thing shouts, its deep voice echoing in the room. The voice doesn't fit the small little thing at all. 

"Bill Cipher, yes? Take a seat. And please refrain from laughing. I know I am adorable." The small sea animal sighs, waving its tiny little hand. 

"My name is The Great Axolotl-" The Axolotl starts, and is cut off from Bill giggling. 

"Hah- you? Little guy? The Great Axolotl? Good one!" Bill cackles, having a real laugh for the first time since he's gotten here. 

But The Axolotl's serious expression does not change. 

"Oh. You're serious." Bill realizes, ceasing his laughing. It is still a little silly, though. 

"Yes, I am. I've brought you in here today to discuss your progress.. or, lack thereof." The Axolotl hums, little hands adjusting its glasses as it looks over some papers. 

"Okay, so maybe I tried to attack a few people. Big deal! They were background characters anyway." Bill waves his hand in dismissal, rolling his eye. 

"Actually, it is a big deal. I regret to inform you that, in approximately three days, you will be let go." The Axolotl explains, setting the papers down and folding its hands over each other. 

"Really?! Yes! Finally! I'm getting out of this place!" Bill stands up, rejoicing that he'll finally be free of this hell. 

"No, not exactly. Sit back down, please." The Axolotl shakes its head, gesturing for Bill to sit down. Bill raises a brow in confusion, not understanding how this could possibly be a bad thing  

"'Let go', meaning you will be executed, Bill." The Axolotl explains.

"WHAT?! No! No, you- you can't!" Bill slams his fists on the desk, eyes glowing red. (hes the alpha)

"I am sorry, Bill, but you've shown little to no progress. In fact, we think you may have gotten worse. You are a threat to everyone, including yourself." The Axolotl explains. Bill looks to Dr. Warden for support, but he just looks away.

"You- Come on, I'll- I can do whatever you want! I'll do extra chores, or- or I'll even talk during group therapy! Come on!" Bill pleads, panic crossing his features. He's getting flashbacks to the first time he was "killed" by Stanley. 

"Unless someone can vouch for you and prove you've changed, I can't do anything." The Axolotls gathers its papers and stacks them, putting them into a folder labeled with Bill's name. 

"You are dismissed. Three days starting tomorrow." The Axolotl nods, and Dr. Warden pushes Bill out the door before he can argue, shutting the door after he's back in the hallway. 

Fuck. 

-----

"Grunkle Ford!! Grunkle Stan!!" Mabel squeals as she runs out of the bus that just dropped the two small twins off, hugging both Stan and Ford, while Dipper walks up quietly, seemingly shy. 

"Nice to see you two again! How was school this year?" Stan asks, then lowers his voice to a whisper. "Get in any trouble?" 

"I sure hope not." Ford rolls his eyes, but there is a smile on his face. 

"Dipper, stop trying to act mysterious." Mabel frowns, and Dipper smiles a little. 

Waddles comes barreling out of the bus, squealing with the same excitement as Mabel, leaping into Stan's arms. 

"Woah! Looks like Waddles missed me too, huh?" Stan laughs, patting the pig on the head. 

"Great Uncle Ford, I have so much to tell you about. I've been writing my own journal, and turns out, Grabity Falls isn't the only place the weird and paranormal like to hide!" Dipper pipes up, looking excited as he hastily pulls out the journal he'd been keeping. It looks very similar to Ford's journal, but it's blue and has a pine tree on it instead of a six-fingered hand. 

"Why don't you settle in first, then you can tell me all about it." Ford pats Dipper's head, the lumberjack hat Wendy gave him still on his head. 

Dipper nods eagerly, darting inside with his sister to get settled in in the attic. 

"God, they've grown up way too much. They needa slow down, I can barely keep up with them." Stan shakes his head, watching Waddles run after them both. 

-----

Bill just sits there for a while. Sitting outside that door, tears falling down his face against his will. Bill Cipher does not cry. It's pathetic.

But here he is, silently sobbing. He can't be the last one. He can't. He won't. 

Yet here he is. Crying like a baby. 

He doesn't know how long he sits there, face uncomfortably wet from tears and hands trembling slightly while he curls up into himself, lying on the ground outside The Axolotl's office. 

Bill wonders how long it's been on Earth. Maybe it's only been a few days. Maybe it's been years. Or maybe it's been centuries and everyone is dead. 

"Bill?" A quiet voice calls from around the corner, but Bill can't force himself to respond. Footsteps come closer to where he's on the floor, hair spread out on the tile. He's mumbling to himself, repeating the phrase 'I can't be the last.'

"Oh, dear.." The same voice mumbles gently, sitting down next to him. "I heard you were called down here, and you didn't come to art therapy. I thought I'd find you here."

Oh. Dr. Light. 

"Sorry." Is all Bill can muster. He isn't really sorry. He realizes he doesn't even know how to be sorry. 

"It's alright. Do you want to come with me? If you want, you can talk about it. But you don't have to, of course." Dr. Light suggests, wanting to reach out and cradle Bill like a child, but knowing she shouldn't touch him, especially not when he's like this. 

"..Okay." Bill mumbles, too tired to fight it. He sits up, face still wet with tears. 

Dr. Light takes him back to the empty art therapy room, where there is coloring books and crayons, even some non-toxic paint and canvases. 

"It's quite late, so no one is here right now, if you want to talk." Dr. Light practically whispers, her voice gentle and.. motherly. 

Why is she being so nice to him? She's seen what he's capable of. She knows he is a threat. Yet she's still... nice. 

She must be stupid or something. 

"..I don't want to talk." Bill spits, but she doesn't get angry. Why isn't she angry? 

"That's okay. Why don't you draw something to represent what happened? If you're comfortable." Dr. Light suggests, taking out her own piece of paper and starting to doodle little creatures. 

Bill scoffs, but listens. He sketches out The Axolotl angrily with crayon, then himself as a triangle. 

He puts a speech bubble on the dumb amphibian with a skull inside. 

"Is that The Axolotl? And you?" Dr. Light asks, glancing at his messy drawing. Bill nods, not really in the mood to talk right now. His voice is scratchy from crying anyway. 

"And it's saying.." Dr. Light leans forward, trying to figure out what the skull represents. Bill takes a separate paper and draws a red and blue triangle, then a bunch of random shapes- and in the middle- himself. He crosses all of them out except himself. Then it clicks. 

"Three days." Bill mumbles and looks away, trying his hardest not to think about the fact there won't be any more Euclidians after him. 

"Oh.. Oh my.. Bill.." Dr. Light shakes her head, setting the paper down to come stand next to Bill, silently asking for permission to touch him. 

Bill wants to back away. He wants to push her away. But all he can see is his mother, holding her arms out like Dr. Light is right now. 

Maybe this place has changed him more than he thought. Because he can't help but wrap his arms around Dr. Light, squeezing tight while she strokes his matted hair. 

"Don't worry, Bill.. I won't.. I'll talk to them. Or give them another option." Dr. Light whispers, while Bill shakes violently in her arms, gripping onto her button up. 

"I apologize if this is out of line, but.. I think your mother would be proud of you." Dr. Light holds Bill close, and Bill.. Well, if anyone else had said that, they'd be dead in an instant. But he.. he knows she means it. And fuck, if it doesn't make him sob like a little kid again. 

-----

"I would like to have a word with The Axolotl about Bill Cipher, please." Dr. Light asks, and the goo monster guarding the amphibians door slides a paper over to her. 

"Sure, just fill this out and it might be able to see you in a few days." The goo monster yawns, pointing to the paper. 

"It's urgent. I need to talk to it now." Dr. Light demands. She doesn't have time to wait around. 

"Look, lady-" 

"Now." Dr. Light insists, banging her fist on the desk. The goo monster sighs and reaches for the phone. 

"Is The Great Axolotl busy right now? I have some lady demanding to speak to it." The blob of goo explains, and nods to the answer on the other side. 

"Go ahead. But be quick." He gives Dr. Light the go-ahead, and she thanks him, then enters the office of The Axolotl. 

"Oh, Dr. Light! What a pleasure." The tiny amphibian smiles, adjusting its glasses. 

"I'd like to talk to you about Bill Cipher. I am his art therapist." Dr. Light sits politely, and the small axolotl hums. 

"Oh, yes. He is scheduled for execution in about three days." The Axolotl tells her, pulling out Bill's folder. 

"Yes. I'm aware. You can't execute him." Dr. Light insists, glancing at the pictures taken of Bill when he was first admitted inside the folder. 

"And why not? He is a threat. To everyone. Including you. He is a manipulator." The Axolotl says, pointing to the diagnosis on the page that says ASPD, NPD, and BPD. 

"He is changing. You must understand. I found him laying on the ground outside your door sobbing because he didn't want to be the last of his species." Dr. Light explains. 

"I don't mean to be rude, but he is most likely manipulating you into feeling sympathy for him to get his way." The Axolotl tells her with a worried look on his face, and Dr. Light shakes her head. 

"No. I've read through his files. Yes, he is manipulative. But he manipulates through praise and trickedy, not trying to make anyone feel sorry for him. He doesn't want people to feel bad for him, he wants to be seen as a God." Dr. Light shoots back, not backing down until they can somehow come to a conclusion. 

"Either way, he is still a high risk patient, and is known to attempt to harm others. It's dangerous to keep him here." The Axolotl explains, stacking Bill's papers and putting them back in the folder. 

"I have an idea, but.. it might be risky." Dr. Light interrupts, causing the amphibian to stop it's movements. 

"Well then, let's hear it."

Chapter Text

Bill grumbles angrily as he's awoken by a random staff member at 5:45am as usual, his matted hair getting worse from it not being taken care of. It reaches almost to the ground at this point, overgrown and greasy. He hates the dirty feeling. 

He slips out of his room, sparing one last glance at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. 

2 days, and he will be dead. He'll finally be free of this place. He's almost excited, but to be honest he'd really rather not die, but. Beggars can't be choosers. Or whatever. 

"Good morning, Bill!" Dr. Light greets him as he walks out, changing her path to walk next to Bill with files in her hands. 

"Morning. What's got you all chipper? You that excited to see me dead?" Bill tries to joke, but it isn't as funny as it would be normally. Dr. Light doesn't laugh. 

"No. And I won't." Dr. Light lights up (literally) in excitement, making Bill cover his eye from the shine as he mumbles a small 'sorry'. 

"Two days, Doc. Did you already forget? What, you going senile on me?" Bill jokes again, her excited attitude unfortunately rubbing off on him. Dr. Light laughs this time a little. 

"No, no. I know. But! Well, after you went to bed, I may or may not have spoken to The Axolotl.." Dr. Light shrugs, flipping through her files she's carrying as they reach the cafeteria. She sits down at one of the tables and gestures for Bill to sit beside her, so he does. He's curious. 

"That can't have ended well." Bill frowns, not understanding what this has to do with him being executed. 

"Actually, it ended quite well! I spoke to it about you and your progress-" Dr. Light continues, and Bill kind of huffs out a laugh at that. 

"What progress?" Bill rolls his eye, hunched over the files spread out on the table, detailing him and his history of crimes and past in general. Dr. Light just ignores him and continues. 

"-anddd.. Well, I may have saved your life. Not to pat myself on the back or anything." Dr. Light adds excitedly, clearly holding back the bright shine that threatens to glow. 

"..You- What? Why?" Bill furrows his brows, more confused than anything. It doesn't even cross his mind that he isn't going to die. 

"Well, because I've come to grow fond of you, Bill. I didn't want to see you die." Dr. Light explains, a hand gently resting on Bill's back. And for once, Bill doesn't feel the urge to flinch away and kill whoever touched him. It's... okay. 

"...So, what? I'm just going to stay here forever? I'm never going to get better." Bill blinks, and he isn't sure if it's out of confusion, habit, or blinking away tears. 

"Well.. Not exactly.." Dr. Light deflates, like she was hoping she wouldn't have to explain this part. 

"Oh fuck me. What?" Bill senses her hesitance and wonders if maybe he'd prefer to have died. 

"Well.. Don't freak out. But.. The Axolotl will be sending you to Earth for an undetermined amount of time. With- ahem. With the Pines family." Dr. Light looks like she's bracing for impact. Bill doesn't even know what to say. 

"WHAT?" 

-----

"I'm sure you know what you're in here for." The Axolotl taps its papers against the table to even them out. 

"Yeah. I know." Bill grumbles, arms crossed and face scowling. Really, he's rather be dead than go back there. 

"We will be discussing the terms of your stay. You may want to get comfortable." The Axolotl folds its hands together and adjusts its glasses. 

"Whatever. Go ahead, Frills." Bill rolls his eye, hair covering the other damaged one. 

"Right. Starting tomorrow morning, you will be staying with the Pines family. You will not have your powers. You will be human. And you cannot leave the Pines' house. If they chose to kill you when you arrive, you will die. If you have not shown progress in a year Earth time, we will remove you from the house and execute you." The Axolotl drones on and on. It talks about human laws and rules, but Bill doesn't really pay attention. 

"There will also be a staff member that comes to check on you at the end of each week and you will have a mandatory therapy session. You may chose who your therapist for this job is." The Axolotl motions for Bill to chose, and Bill grumbles again. 

"Dr. Light." Bill huffs out, and even thiugh he hasn't even left yet, he wants to go home. Where is home, anyway? He destroyed it. 

It doesn't matter. 

"You are lucky, you know." The Axolotl speaks up after a moment of silence. 

"I wouldn't say lucky." Bill rolls his eye and starts playing with his slightly matted and tangled hair. 

"I would. You got a second chance at life, and now a third chance. You're lucky Dr. Light spoke to me as well. She seems to really believe you can change, though I doubt it." The Axolotl clicks its pen a few times before starting to jot something down on a piece of paper. 

Bill doesn't respond. 

-----

Bill doesn't sleep that night. He tries to, he does. His therapist says it's good for him to sleep. 

But he ends up just staring at the ceiling for an undetermined amount of time. Just staring at the glow in the dark stars stuck onto his ceiling. They're nothing like the stars back at home. 

Bill decides to use his time by trying to fix his hair as a distraction. Originally he was not given a comb at all, due to potential hazard, or something. He was only given a brush recently on "good behavior". 

He tries to brush his hair out, but it keeps getting stuck in the clumps of tangles. There's a few bits he's able to brush out with some struggle, but most of it is unbrushable, or his hair just falls out when he tries. 

How do humans do this?

Bill spends the rest of the night staring into the non-glass mirror and wondering what went wrong. 

-----

"Bill?" The familiar voice of Dr. Light calls from Bill's door, gently creaking it open. Bill didn't even notice the time. Is it really already time?

Bill is facing away from Dr. Light, kneels pulled up to his chest while his unbrushed hair cascades down his back and onto the floor  

"Am I allowed to take anything with me?" Bill asks, glancing up at the glowing stars on his ceiling. 

"..I'm afraid not. I'm sorry." Dr. Light's shine darkens slightly, and Bill shrugs. 

"It's whatever." Bill grumbles. It's not. 

Dr. Light is quiet for a moment, not sure what to even say. In honestly, she will miss Bill. Sure, he needed some.. work, but she can see the potential he has. But he needs this. 

"You'll be eating breakfast as usual, then you will leave." Dr. Light explains, and Bill nods and gets up, walking out of his room and towards the cafeteria. 

Breakfast is fine. He wishes it was his favorite, eggs. He likes to pop them. But it doesn't matter. 

"William LuCipher, would you please head to the main office?" The speaker cuts through his thoughts, and everyone elses's heads turn to stare at him. He's used to it. 

Bill quickly tosses out his trash, not bothering to finish what was left of his food. He bedgrudgingly walks towards the main office, passing a few other patients and staff that give him dirty looks as usual. At least he won't have to deal with that anymore. At least not from them. 

"William, hello! I'm sure you're aware, it is time for you to be sent to Earth! Are you excited?" The person at the front desk smiles, and Bill grumbles in annoyance. 

"Just Bill is fine. And no. How does this work?" Bill rolls his eye, and the person at the front nods to a long hallway. 

"Down there, you'll be escorted. Not much else to it, you'll black out and wake up on Earth." They explain, and Bill huffs out a breath in response, and before he can sit down to wait, another person walks oht and calls his name again. 

"William?" The black mass asks, checking its clipboard. 

"Bill." Bill grits his teeth. He really hates being called that. It's not even trauma related this time, it's just annoying. 

"Right. This way, please." The dark mass nods, and Bill follows. 

While they walk down the annoyingly long hallway, the black mass drones on about rules for Earth and yadayadayada. 

Finally, they reach the door, and the black mass unlocks it. He blacks out as soon as he steps in.

-----

Chapter Text

Bill wakes up to hushed voices surrounding him, sounding confused and worried. 

"Is he okay?" A small girl's voice asks worriedly.

"Considering it sounded like he fell off the roof-" A different younger voice starts, but is cut off by an older man clearing his throat. 

"I believe he is awake."

Oh, oh no. Sixer. Great.

Bill wishes he could just go back to sleep or something, but his eye is already open. 

Bill can see Ford physically jump a bit at the sight of Bill's eye. It isn't completely the same as when he would possess people in his hayday, but it's similar. 

"Heya Sixer." Bill grins, or tries to, but his face hurts. He can see Ford's eyes widen before he blacks out again. 

-----

Bill is surprised he wakes up. He really thought Ford would just kill him after that. Not that he'd blame him per say. 

"Pointed ears, strange blue scarring, a tail, and a yellow slitted eye. Not to mention that his other eye is a black void practically." Bill hears Ford's voice talking to himself. He looks around, and recognizes Ford's lab. He's laying down on his back on a surface similar to the table you'd see in a doctor's office. He's wrapped in bandages that itch, and his legs hurt like hell. Bruises litter the parts of his arms that aren't bandaged. Someone mentioned him falling off a roof earlier. What a fun way to enter earth!

"Free pain! Fun!" Bill sits up, grinning as he feels himself getting dizzy. He tries to move his hands, but finds they're handcuffed together. He frowns, but it's not like it'll stop him. 

"Oh. You're awake." Ford grumbles, seemingly annoyed by Bill's sudden speaking. 

"You bet! Say, why don't you let me out of these cuffs and I'll leave, stay out of your hair. I swear it!" Bill smiles wider, holding a pinky out to pinky promise. 

"Not happening. You're going to stay here, and you're going to stay away from the kids, and you're going to answer my questions. Got it?" Ford grabs Bill by the hair, and Bill giggles. 

"Alright, I'll play nice for now. Pull a little harder, some might fall out!" Bill pulls the opposite way Ford is, and Ford's grip rips out a bit of Bill's matted hair. 

"How are you alive?" Ford asks, circling the desk Bill is sitting on with his legs hanging off like a shark. 

"Old friend owed me a favour! Turns out it was a scam! Rude!" Bill frowns at the thought of The Axolotl. 

"Oh I'm sure you know lots about those." Ford mumbles, and Bill almost doesn't hear him. But he does. 

"Why are you.. humanoid?" Ford asks after scribbling something down on his notepad. 

"Apparently this is what The Axolotl thinks a human looks like. I'm in this body as punishment." Bill grumbles, kicking his legs back and forth. 

"Who is The Axolotl?" Ford asks again. Boy does he just love questions. It's getting boring. 

"All powerful God, whatever. The usual. Am I done yet?" Bill moves his hands up to play with his hair, still handcuffed.

"No. Why did this 'Axolotl' send you here? Why to us?" Ford wonders aloud, a tinge of anger seeping through his features. 

"I dunno, something about making amends and redemption. Doubt that'll ever happen!" Bill snorts, and Ford nods. 

"Glad we can agree on something." Ford rolls his eyes and adjusts his glasses, moving closer to Bill. 

"Woah, little early to be killing me, don't you think?" Bill backs away, and Ford sighs. 

"I'm just going to check if your DNA is human or not, and how human you are physically." Ford explains, and Bill narrows his eye, looking at the weird hammer in Ford's hand.

"To test your reflexes. I'm not going to kill you yet." Ford reassures, but it doesn't really comfort Bill. Not that he needs comforting obviously. 

Before Bill can respond, Ford gently whacks the small hammer against Bill's knee, and it kicks without him telling it to. Neat! He had no idea human bodies had built-in defense mechanisms! Not as cool as spitting acid, but whatever. 

"Reflexes are fine." Ford notes to himself, then grabs Bill's hand and examines it, intrigued by the black fade and the seemingly cat-like claws. 

"Little early to be holding my hand, Fordsy." Bill teases, and Ford shoots him a look that just makes him huff out another laugh. 

Ford presses two fingers against his wrist and waits, while Bill tries to figure out what he's even doing. 

Ford moves again to press the same two fingers against his neck, and Bill feels his face getting warm. Why is it doing that?? Is it normal for humans?? It's never happened before.

"Pulse is a bit abnormal, but could be due to adrenaline." Ford notes out loud again, and Bill's tail flicks at hearing him talk to himself. He's been doing that for 30 years. 

"Take off your shirt." Ford says, and Bill whistles. He learned how to do that in the Theraprisim, neat trick!

"Take me on a date first!" Bill grins, twirling a bit of his hair around his finger, and Ford grumbles. 

"Quit being so difficult, I'm just trying to examine your form to make sure there's nothing inhuman other than the obvious." Ford waves him off, facing away. It's clear he's trying to hide that his face is red. Cute!

"Well, I can't anyway. Handcuffs, genius." Bill jingles the cuffs together, and Ford sighs, undoing the cuffs for now. He tells Bill not to try anything quietly, before pulling his shirt over his head.

"Interesting. You have breasts." Ford notices. Sherlock Holmes over here. 

"Duh. I've always had them. You used to love them, heheh." Bill smiles, and Ford rolls his eyes again, choosing to ignore Bill. 

"You have a belly button too. Fascinating!" Ford has that glint in his eyes he always used to have when Bill would show him something new. Ford moves to behind him, moving Bill's hair out of the way.

"You have a tattoo of the zodiac on your back." Ford hums, tracing the circle. Bill gets a weird chill, and bumps form on his arms and legs. 

"Goosebumps. When your hair on your body stands up." Ford explains quickly. His hand finds the base of Bill's tail and scratches there. Bill jolts away and turns to frown at Ford. 

"What was that for??" Bill narrows his eye, tail flicking in annoyance. 

"Hm. Tail behaves like a cat's. I wonder if it wags like a dog's." Ford mumbles to himself, and Bill rolls his eye. Of course this nerd is wondering how his damn tail behaves. 

"Since you have breasts, I'm wondering if-" Ford starts, coming back around to stand in front, examining Bill's chest. 

"I'm not showing you my vagina, you pervert!" Bill kicks him away, not enough force to knock him over but enough. 

"Don't say it like that! You know that's not what-" Ford tries to defend, his cheeks red. Bill rolls his eye and shrugs his shirt back on. Ford is quick to put the handcuffs back on him. 

"That's what all the perverts say." Bill smirks, and Ford shakes his head. 

"I need to collect a blood sample to test your DNA." Ford announces, rummaging around in a desk drawer for something, then finds it and cleans it, setting something up. Bill isn't paying attention. 

He starts paying attention when Ford tries to bring something sharp and stabby near him. 

"Hey, I though we said no murder yet! I'm all for a little bit of pain, but-" Bill complains, and Ford audibly groans. 

"Would you be quiet? It's just a needle, I'll just take some of your blood." Ford explains, sounding exasperated. 

"Can I have some of yours, then?" Bill blurts, and Ford grimaces. 

"Why would you need my blood?" Ford asks, stopping what he's doing. 

"Well, you're taking mine. It's only fair I get some of yours." Bill shrugs, and Ford huffs an exasperated laugh. 

"No. I'm taking yours for a DNA test." Ford explains again. 

"You're no fun." Bill rolls his eye again, and Ford's sharp tool stabs him in the arm. It hurts. Good.

"You trying to seduce me, Sixer?" Bill giggles, and Ford grits his teeth. 

"For the last time, I'm taking your blood to test your DNA." Ford grumbles, removing the syringe and covering the spot he took from with gauze. 

"We're done here. You'll stay down here until I come let you out, got it?" Ford orders, and Bill hops off the table. 

"Boring! Aren't you scared I'm gonna get into all your precious research?" Bill teasingly knocks into something to make it fall over on purpose. 

"That's why I'm chaining you to your bed." Ford waves a hand at the makeshift bed, complete with an old bed framr that's definitely seen better days and a dirty mattress with mystery stains on it, as well as a comfortable enough looking blanket. 

"When do I eat?" Bill asks, stomach complaining at the lack of food since breakfast. Ford chains him to the bedpost as he complains, tugging on it to make sure he can't escape. 

"I'll get you something later. For now, I need to be away from you." Ford sighs and leaves Bill alone again. 

At least in the theraprisim he got his own room. This sucks!

Chapter Text

Bill falls asleep at some point, though he isn't sure when. He wakes up with new pain in his back that isn't funny like usual. In fact, a lot of the pain he thought was hilarious earlier feels like.. well, it hurts. 

The first thing Bill notices is that his wrists are free, but his ankle is still chained to the edge of the bed. At the end of his bed is a plate of food, spaghetti. It's cold, but he scarfs it up anyway. He thinks it might be the best thing he's ever eaten in his trillion and 12 years of living. 

Just as he's finishing up, he hears the elevator come down and the telltale signs of Ford coming to check on him. 

"Oh, you're awake. I was hoping you'd be asleep." Ford frowns, seemingly disappointed by Bill's consciousness. 

"You have sauce on your face." Ford points to his face, and Bill rolls his eye. 

"Duh. What do you want?" Bill mumbles while he's chewing, getting more sauce on his face. 

"Your hair is matted. I was going to shave it while you were sleeping." Ford says truthfully, holding out the razor he was holding. 

"My hair! No way!" Bill's eye widens and he clutches onto his precious hair like it's his child. It's long and it's matted but it's his.

"Well, you certainly can't expect us to keep it like that. There's probably rats living in there for all I know." Ford waves his hand, other one tucked behind his back as he always does. Bill always wondered why he's always trying to hide his hands, it's probably his best quality!

"Can I at least cut it shorter and we can see what we can do about the matts later?" Ford suggests, pinching his nose in annoyance. 

Bill looks at him like he just suggested Bill get a 9 to 5 job at an office. 

"No! Back off my hair!" Bill grips onto his hair tighter, eye wide and staring at Ford. 

"Fine! Have it your way! But you need a shower desperately. You smell disgusting." Ford scrunches up his nose, and Bill rolls his eye. 

"I smell fine! I was going for dead opossum." Bill snorts, and Ford rubs his eyes again in annoyance. 

"Whatever you were 'going for ', you need a shower." Ford waves his hand in dismissal, like that's just it. What is Bill supposed to do with that?? He can't just.. go upstairs and shower! What does showering even entail!

"You can't be serious." Ford sighs in defeat, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. 

"I'm a dream demon triangle! I don't take showers!" Bill rolls his eye, wiping his face off with the orange jumpsuit he's still wearing from the Theraprism. He's shocked they didn't send him in a straitjacket, honestly. 

"Fine. I'll help you. But absolutely no funny business." Ford agrees with a finger pointed up. 

"Says the guy who asked to see my vagina." Bill mumbles, and Ford almost doesn't hear him. 

"I did not- I was simply curious! My goodness!" Ford throws his hands up in defeat, and Bill giggles a little. It's so fun to watch Sixer get mad. 

Ford sighs before speaking again. 

"I believe the kids and Stanley are away currently. They were a bit disturbed by your arrival, especially Mabel. That poor girl is traumatized by you, Bill." Ford shakes his head somberly, looking at Bill with malice. 

"Whatever." Bill scoffs, and they sit in silence for a moment. 

"Well, sit up. You're going to bathe, you reek." Ford finally says, walking over with the key that he seemingly pulled out of thin air. 

-----

Bill stands in the bathroom, watching the water run and fill the tub. 

"I might attempt to detangle some of your hair as well. Perhaps I can save the hair, since you refuse to let me cut it. The matts don't look too bad." Ford says, but he isn't really talking to Bill. More like organizing his thoughts out loud while disguising it as talking to Bill. It's a thing he's always done. Bill knows. He's been in his mind. 

Before Bill can even respond, Ford is grabbing at Bill's hair and examining it like he's under a microscope. Rude!

"Hey!" Bill whips around and grabs his hair back, frowning at Ford. 

"I was just looking at it! Goodness!" Ford rolls his eyes, but backs off. 

"The bath is full. You can leave your undergarments on if you wish." Ford tells him, and Bill unbuttons his gross orange jumpsuit. Orange isn't really his color, it's just a knockoff yellow. 

"Wasn't given any." Bill shrugs, throwing his clothes somewhere. Ford has to go pick them up and put them in the bin of dirty clothes. 

When Bill turns around to get into the tub, Ford stares at him, the small triangle on the zodiac staring back. 

"Now what?" Bill asks, fully inside the tub now. 

"You have to get your hair wet." Ford explains, and Bill groans. 

"Do I have to?" He complains, single yellow eye staring at his dry, matted hair.

"Yes."

Bill groans, but lets Ford turn the shower head on and rinse his hair anyways. 

"It feels heavy. I don't like it." Bill complains again, feeling like there's dumbbells on his head. Seriously, what the hell!

"That'd be because your hair is wet. The water absorbs into the hair strands, and makes them heavier." Ford explains matter-of-factly. 

"You keep talking, princess." Bill teases with a grin, and Ford rolls his eyes for the hundredth time in an hour. 

Bill isn't sure how long they just sit there, Ford re-rinsing his hair every now and then and trying to comb out and detangle some of the complicated tangles. 

Bill's fingers get all wrinkly and gross, and he starts getting restless.

Ford puts some kind of soap into his hair and combs through it, still tangled in some areas but less than before. Bill also learns that the soap does not taste good and doesn't feel good in his eye either. 

"Well, I didn't get them all, but it's better than before I suppose." Ford finally speaks, and Bill grumbles. 

"Stay here. I'm going to get you clothes." Ford tells him, and as he's leaving, Bill begins to wonder how hard it would be to sneak out of the window. 

As if he read his thoughts, Ford peeks his head through the door again. 

"Don't even think about trying to escape into the forest completely naked. Not a good idea!" Ford states as if he's speaking from experience. The idea entertains Bill for a while as he waits for Ford to come back. 

Ford returns with a towel, shorts, a shirt, and underwear. 

"These might be a bit loose on you, but it'll do for now until I can find some of my old college clothes that may fit you better." Ford shrugs, starting to dry off Bill's hair with the towel. 

Ford helps him dry off the rest of the way and get dressed with a lot of struggle and awkward looks, and finally Bill is dry and dressed. 

Ford sighs in annoyance as Bill blabbers on about something, leading him to the lab in his basement again, and eventually chaining him back up against the bed. 

"You love keeping me as a pet, don't you?" Bill smirks as Ford starts to walk away and leave Bill alone again. 

"What?"

"You love having control over me, don't you? I know you do." Bill teases in a sing-song voice. 

"I don't enjoy it in the same way you did, but I enjoy seeing you struggle for once." Ford says. "I'll bring you dinner in an hour."

Well damn. 

Chapter Text

Ford was able to get out most of the matts in Bill's hair, turns out. Except for some in the middle and the bottom. 

Ford keeps bugging Bill about cutting his hair to get the matts out, but Bill refuses. His hair hasn't been cut since he had his powers still. That hair is still there. 

He can't just get rid of it!

"Bill, really. I will cut it in your sleep if I have to, but I'd prefer if you just let me." Ford sighs, sounding exhausted.

"No way!" Bill sticks his tongue out at Ford, and he leaves again.

-----

Bill knows Ford hasn't slept much since he arrived straight out of the Theraprism. The whole house hasn't. Not that he's seen any of them since he arrived and was trapped in this stupid lab. 

He just knows because Ford feels the need to tell him. 

Usually he'd laugh in his face, but he's been through countless therapy sessions! Sue him if some stuff stuck, and maybe he feels a little tiny bit bad about trying to kill them all! Whatever!

Well, he wouldn't have killed Ford. And if Sixer really really wanted it, after he joined Bill of course, maybe Bill would have let them stay alive. Hell, he'd even give them a room to stay in and food to eat! That's how far he'd go! 

Him and his Sixer could have ruled the entire multiverse together. What else could he want? A loving God who'd do anything he asked if he pleaded enough, in return for worshipping said God's every move and kissing the ground he walks on. And! He'd even get to keep his dumb family! Not to mention all those people that ruined his life would be gone!

Scratch feeling bad-- now he's angry! Seriously, how could his Sixer turn down such a great offer? If he would have just joined him, they could have had everything!

For a moment, the idea that Bill joined Ford crossed his mind. Instead of betraying him all those years ago, he could have just.. 

No, that would be stupid. Besides, seeing Ford dimension hopping and fighting all those aliens and whatnot was entertaining! Especially when one of them would tear his clothes and he's see his pecs! What?

Bill removes the thought from his mind. Or tries, at least. 

It doesn't really help when Ford returns with a plate of food, wearing a T-shirt. A T-shirt! Bill doesn't think he's ever seen Ford wear a T-shirt! Holy shit!

Bill's face heats up when Ford walks in and places the plate on Bill's bed. 

Ford unchains him for a moment to eat, and sits on the end to supervise without a word. 

Bill scarfs up his meal, taking little glances at Ford's exposed biceps. Hehehe.

"Bill, is your tail.. wagging?" Ford tilts his head, trying to get a better look at Bill's tail. 

Bill's eye shoots open and he grabs his own tail to stop it from wagging. Dumb tail! He used to be able to control it better!

"No!" Bill croaks out, mouth still full of food. Ford's eyes narrow, but he doesn't say anything. 

Just when Bill thinks he's in the clear, Ford speaks again. 

"So it does wag like a dog's tail, then." Ford notes aloud, and Bill flushes. He really hates this body. 

-----

Bill expects a few more hours alone when Ford comes back. He was in the middle of fantasizing about if Ford joined him again!

But Ford returns earlier than usual, without food this time. What's the point if Bill doesn't get food?

"Your DNA samples have come back.. completely human. Interesting. I thought there would be at least some non-human parts, because of your inhuman features. But.. That means you aren't lying. And you are human." Ford declares, sounding a mixture of relieved and.. something else. 

"Soo, can I come upstairs now?" Bill puts on a big grin, batting his eyelashes in hopes of being able to leave this basement. 

"No. Perhaps if you earn my trust more. Besides, Stanley and the kids are still.. shaken. If I must remind you, you did attempt to destroy the world." Ford shakes his head, turned away from Bill with hid hands clasped behind his back. 

"How do I do that?" Bill scrunches his face up, confusion evident on his face. He hasn't done anything bad since he's been here! How is that not trustworthy! 

Ford turns back around with an almost sad look on his face.

"Time. Bill, I know you may not understand, but we all need time. It's hard enough to have to speak to you again. You ruined my life, it's going to take a long time for me to trust you again." Ford sighs, looking away again. 

"How long?" Bill frowns. He doesn't like to wait. He wants Ford to like him again now!

"I don't know, Bill. Maybe months, maybe years. I may never trust you fully again." Ford says, sounding exasperated and fed up. Bill almost opens his mouth to voice his complaints, but he remembers Dr. Light telling him he needs to keep his mouth shut sometimes. Right now feels like one of those times. 

"Will you forgive me?" Bill almost whispers, not really meaning to say that out loud. 

"Are you sorry?"

"...No." Bill half-lies.

"I won't ever forgive you, Bill. What you did was... traumatizing. If you really want to earn my trust again, you have to prove yourself worthy of it." Ford starts to walk away, not bothering to chain Bill back up. 

Fuck!

-----

Ford sighs as he steps out of the vending machine's elevator door. He's exhausted. 

"Grunkle Ford! What happened?" Dipper asks nervously, seeing the annoyed expression on Ford's aged face. 

"Ah, just.. him. Nothing to worry about." Ford sighs again. He's done a lot of sighing today. 

"Speaking of, I actually want to talk about him with you guys." Ford announces as he enters the living room, where Stanley is sitting watching his TV show, and Mabel is on the ground pouring glitter into the carpet. 

"What's up, Pointdexter?" Stanley grumbles, waking up from being half-asleep. 

"His DNA test came back, and it was fully human. No trace of anything else. He wasn't lying." Ford says, and the room goes quiet. 

"So, you're sayin'.. He's a human now?" Stanley raises a brow, and Ford just nods. 

"Yes, as human as it gets. I'm a bit shocked as well, I assumed that with the tail and ears and such there'd be at least something. But no, pure human DNA." Ford shrugs. 

"And, I examined his body, and it looked accurate to humans." Ford says matter-of-factly. 

"Ew, didn't need to know that." Stanley chuckles to himself. 

"Stanley, you know that's not what I.. Nevermind." Ford pinches the bridge of his nose. 

"Wait wait, does he still have powers?" Mabel perks up. 

"No. If he did, he definitely would have escaped by now." Ford shakes his head, and Mabel blinks in response. 

"Can I go talk to him?" She stands up, looking nervous but determined. 

"Absolutely not!" Ford says immediately, thinking about all the possible things that could go wrong. 

"Come on, Sixer. He's human, no powers. You'll be there to make sure she's safe. I trust you." Stanley shrugs, nudging Ford. 

"Stanley! Do you even know how dangerous it could be?" Ford frowns, feeling the need to keep the kids safe from any possibly danger. 

"The kid's traumatized. If she thinks it'll help her cope, I say let her. I know I couldn't go, that triangle wouldn't see tomorrow." Stanley chuckles. 

"...Are you sure, sweetie?" Ford turns to Mabel, who nods in determination. 

"I'll go too! Just in case something happens!" Dipper chimes in, and runs to his sister's side. 

"You three be safe. If that three-sided fucker tries anything, holler for me and I'll finish the job." Stanley whispers the last part to Ford, punctuating his words by punching the palm of his other hand. 

"Of course." Ford nods nervously, heading back for the basement.