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Ford had never felt so deceived in his life. The impact of what he’d helped to create weighed so heavily on his mind that he never noticed how empty and broken his chest had felt. Each memory of Bill, his Bill, struck a pain in his chest and there was no way for Ford to avoid it.
This new Bill, this evil Bill, was constantly taunting him in his mind and in his dreams. It was childish for the most part until Bill started to send Ford nightmares and previews of the terrors he would unleash onto the world.
Ford didn’t want to take any chances, so he shut the portal down and installed a metal plate in his head to keep Bill from entering his mind. The process was extremely painful and it unfortunately didn't completely keep Bill out of his mind during the procedure. While Bill's taunts were mostly out of enjoyment at watching Ford suffer through the procedure, he was also angry from Ford breaking their deal. Ford had a suspicion that Bill was the reason he stayed awake through the entire procedure.
Ford's first day awake was nothing but radiating pain. The migraine lasted for days until Ford put himself under just to sleep through the healing process. His sleep was dreamless, thankfully. Bill was either finally leaving him alone or the procedure had been a success. Either way, Bill no longer had access to his mind. Ford would finally have peace or so he thought.
It was the third day after the procedure when Ford cautiously opened his eyes and he noticed he was sitting on the couch instead of laying on the table in the basement. He vaguely wondered if he had walked in his sleep.
“Sixer,” Bill’s soft voice was like a soothing echo in his ears compared to the last few days of maniac laughter and screaming. Nevertheless, Ford jumped at the sound.
Ford turned around and saw Bill, sitting beside him on the couch. He looked...like his old self. Human. This was the Bill he had grown accustomed to over the past few years. The hyperactive man who helped him with most of his research, saved his life on numerous occasions, and made him laugh at the silliest of things. The one who made tea while Ford was working away on the late nights of research. The one who played chess with him when they both needed some downtime. The one Ford occasionally shared his bed with because of Bill's "laziness" to go upstairs to the attic.
This was the Bill he grew to love.
But things had changed and now Ford was terrified at the sight of him, “What is this?” Ford asked cautiously as he backed away, “How did you get past the plate? Is this a dream?”
Bill’s mouth curved into a small smile, “Yes,” he said solemnly, “The procedure is done, I know, but," Bill looked at him with a mischievous grin, "Stanford…aren’t you going to miss moments like this? Where I could just pop on in any time?” He chuckled humorlessly.
Ford glared, “Not really,” he said quickly before settling back down on the couch. He felt somewhat relieved that it was just a dream and this Bill was only a figment of the real Bill. Ford spared a quick glance at Bill and felt a wave of nostalgia hit him along with the heartbreak. He sighed and covered his face with his hands shamefully, “You truly are my biggest regret…”
Bill let out a soft laugh, “Oh come on now, Stanford,” Bill turned around on the couch to better face Ford, “You know that’s not entirely true.” Bill shifted on his knees and inched forward, placing his hand on Ford’s back, “Look at me.”
Ford jerked away, “Stop it,” he hissed out, “Just leave me alone…” His felt his voice breaking and cursed himself.
Bill withdrew his hand and inched back, sitting back on his heels, “I want to tell you something…”
Ford closed his eyes tightly and willed himself to wake up from this nightmare. Ford let out a defeated sigh and covered his eyes with his free hand, “Why are you doing this…? You have no idea…” Ford’s voice hitched in his throat and he felt his eyes well up with tears, “Dammit…”
There was a small beat of silence before Bill spoke slowly, “You were the best of them.”
Ford didn't have to ask who 'them' was. Bill always referred to the other great minds he had 'inspired' but Ford couldn’t bring himself to buy the flattery anymore and he hung his head in his hands, “Because I was the easiest to trick?” he said bitterly, “Because I just needed someone to appreciate me…god...you're terrible...” Ford was tired. Even in this dream, he was so damn tired. He felt the couch shift as Bill moved next to him again.
Bill leaned in close to murmur in Ford’s ear, “Will you let me hold you? Like old times...?”
It sounded like such an innocent question but Ford knew that Bill was only trying to shatter what was left of his resolve, break him completely. Ford was ashamed that all he could think about were the times that he and Bill had been close throughout their work. Bill’s happy grin and calm gaze seemed like worlds away from the Bill that revealed himself to be a nightmare. Still, those moments, even if they meant nothing in the grand scheme, meant the world to Ford.
And as much as he lived for his work...he lived for those moments with Bill, too.
But this wasn't Bill anyway. Just Ford's perception of who he thought Bill really was. So Ford gave a weak nod even though he rationed that this was probably not the best choice. He tensed as he felt Bill's arms wrap around him and hold him close.
That was his breaking point. Ford was so tired of keeping himself together and as he felt the bittersweet comfort that Bill’s embrace brought him, he allowed a few tears to fall. Then, he shifted his weight and brought his arm up to pull Bill closer and hold him tightly which Bill eagerly responded to.
He missed this. So much.
But why was Bill doing this? How much of this was really Bill...? How much of it was Ford's subconscious perception of what he wanted...?
Ford had to know. He turned around on the couch and pulled Bill completely into his lap, "Can I ask you something?" Ford asked as he gripped Bill's shoulders and looked into his eyes.
Bill smiled that ridiculously friendly smile and nodded, "Certainly."
Ford took a deep breath, "How much of this is you and how much of this is me...? Are you really here or is this...just all from my head?"
Bill didn't say anything at first and he averted his eyes, shaking his head.
Ford tilted Bill's chin up to keep Bill's gaze on him, "Please..."
Bill gulped and lifted his hand to Ford's wrist, gripping it gently, "One more than the other..." he said barely above a whisper.
Ford felt something drop in his chest, "W-Which one...?"
Bill shook his head, "You don't want me to answer that," he said with a small smile, "Just take it for what it is. Because after this," Bill's eyes flashed blue for a moment, "You won't have it again."
The tears were welling up in his eyes again and Ford nodded in understanding as he leaned back, "I figured as much..." Ford didn’t know why Bill was dragging this sadistic game out so long and he mentally kicked himself for falling for it again but dammit, Bill just looked so human right here in front of him and so…loving. It was like the past few days hadn’t happened and this monster currently giving him the most caring of looks wasn’t moments away from unleashing the apocalypse.
Ford's eyes widened in surprise when Bill brought his hands up to wipe the tears off of Ford’s cheeks. And when Bill gently placed his hand against the back of Ford’s neck and leaned up to kiss him, Ford thought he was going to lose what was left of his mind. He couldn't bring himself to pull away even though his instincts told him to. He felt like he was moving on autopilot when he brought his own hands up to cup Bill’s face and returned the kiss with a little more energy than he realized he had.
It lasted for about thirty seconds and when Bill pulled away, Ford felt like he could have died right there.
Then Bill kissed Ford's cheek and murmured, “Time to wake up, Stanford."
Ford's eyes snapped open and he looked up to the dark ceiling of the basement. He shuddered as the warm feeling of the dream was replaced with the cold air of the room. Before he attempted to move off of the table, he closed his eyes and called out softly, “Bill? Are you there?”
Silence. It didn’t even seem like the air was affected by the sound waves of Ford’s voice.
Ford got all the tears out of his system that night and from then on, he forged a new memory of Bill into his brain that was so unlike the Bill he once knew. After all, that Bill wasn't even real. Just a manifestation of Ford's desire and affections.
Just a dead dream.