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Hiding in the multiverse was easy for Stanford when he was awake.
It was a large place. Infinity was more than he could have ever imagined, it had surprised Ford the first year exactly how big infinity was. He knew it was endless, but endless was more than it seemed, he was, even now, subconsciously expecting to reach an end at some point. He thought the earth was a big place. Oh how much did he misjudge it.
Hiding in the multiverse was not as easy when Stanford was asleep.
Bill was always waiting. Always. Trying to convince Stanford to give up his hiding spot, playing to his emotions, trying to drag up his buried away feelings, false feelings, feelings he had for a false concept of the demon he once thought was his muse. He wouldn't let him though, he never let him. Bill couldn't trick him anymore.
Stanford had trained himself to go at least a few days without sleep, often even a week. He couldn't stand to see Bill. And when he did sleep, he spent it either ignoring Bill's pestering, or shouting at him, letting out every emotion he felt. Stanford was never good at containing his emotions. He could bury feelings, but never emotions. His anger always came out. It was why he kept having to move, he kept accidentally slipping up and revealing his location to Bill in the midst of his anger.
His mindscape was always loud with the presence of Bill. Even if Bill wasn't talking, it was like the walls sang to his presence. His laughs were like tidal waves, crashing through the world of Ford's mind. His energy created static in the bookshelf walls, occasionally creating electric shocks at Ford's fingertips or his hair. Ford may not always be able to see Bill, but he could always feel him, hear him. His energy. His presence. His desire.
Which was what made tonight so.. different to Ford.
It was so,
Quiet.
The walls weren't singing, there was no static, and no tidal wave laughs. The only sound in the world was Ford's footsteps, Ford's breathing, Ford's presence.
Stanford didn't like silence. Silence in nature often meant something was terribly wrong. There should always be at least some sort of noise, a lack of noise was deadly, it was dangerous. Something was wrong. Something was so.. so wrong.
Did Bill know where he was? Was he out searching for him? Had he found Ford while he slept? So many things could have gone wrong. Where was Bill? This wasn't right! Bill was meant to be here! This was where Bill was meant to be! Why wasn't he here?!
“Bill?” Ford called out, trying to keep his panic out of his voice. He wandered through the halls, keeping his steps as steady of a pace as he could manage. Bill wasn't here. Bill wasn't here! Why wasn't he here? He was meant to be here!
Bill wasn't here.
Surely Ford should've been happy that Bill wasn't there. Shouldn't he? It meant he could get a good night's rest for once, he could do something productive with his night than yell at the dream demon for hours upon hours. Surely this was a positive!
“Bill!” It didn't feel like a positive. Ford was starting to miss the - no he wasn't. He hated Bill. Bill tricked him. Bill was evil, Bill was worse than evil! He was not missing that damn monster.
Did he miss Bill?
“Bill please..” No. Of Course not. That's ridiculous. Ford would never miss Bill, just like how Bill would never miss Ford. They both had the same objective in mind. Kill one another. Bill wanted to kill Ford, and Ford wanted to kill Bill. Neither missed the other, they wanted one another gone. Gone forever. They would never be close ever again. Ever.
Was Bill capable of missing someone?
“I miss you..” No! Bill was made of pure energy! Energy doesn't feel emotions, not complicated emotions, much like an animal. Animals don't feel love, betrayal, missing someone, longing for someone. Regret. So neither did Bill. Bill didn't feel emotions. All he felt was chaos. And chaos isn't an emotion. Not by human standards at least.
Maybe Bill's species felt a whole different set of emotions to humans. Maybe chaos was one of their emotions. Maybe they felt.. love. Maybe Bill loved people, and maybe Ford could just never tell because he didn't know how Bill felt love.
Ford stopped that train of thought. He didn't realise it till now, but he was sitting on the floor, face in his hands, and tears rolling down his cheeks. Why was he crying? He didn't know. Tears continued to roll down his cheeks, and he made no attempt at wiping them away. He let out a small sigh and rested his head back on the bookshelf. He knew he shouldn't care so much, but maybe some suppressed feelings weren't as suppressed as he thought.
Truth is, Stanford loved Bill, a long long time ago. It was a natural thing for humans to ‘fall in love’ with someone of power. Kids had crushes on their teachers, workers gained crushes on their bosses. It was only natural for Ford to crush on his muse. But those feelings were long gone now, down the drain, as far gone as possible. Or he hoped so at least.
“Bill I'm sorry!” Bill never reciprocated Ford's feelings, so Ford assumed that Bill didn't like him back. Maybe Bill did like him back, but presented it in his own species' way. Ford shouldn't get his hopes up.
His hopes up?
Trains of thoughts were a dangerous game for Ford, he got himself trapped into ridiculous thoughts like.. love. Love was idiotic, morons fell in love. Not world changing scientists, world changing scientists fell in love with their work, not other people.
Stanford wished he had fallen in love, and had a relationship. Maybe if he had done that, he wouldn't be stuck in the situation he was in now. A chaos god hunting him down through the multiverse. Maybe he could've had a quiet life in gravity falls where he studied creatures, and had a life outside of his research, maybe get married.
Would he have gotten married? Ford never found marriage that appealing really, women just didn't attract him that much, neither did men really, men were too stupid, and stupidity wasn't attractive in Ford's mind.
Bill was attractive, in his own way. He was intelligent, just like how Stanford liked it. He was very weird too, but in all honesty, Ford was very attracted to just how weird his ex-muse was. He had tricked Ford, sure.. but Ford has done a lot of thinking recently, while travelling through dimensions, and learning all he could about Bill. Maybe Bill wasn't actually doing anything wrong! Apparently his dimension was dying, maybe he really was just trying to save himself and his friends by bringing them all to earth.
Ford sighed and stood himself up. He needed to stop kidding him like that. Bill was evil, evil as they come. He had no good intentions coming to earth. And Ford certainly wanted nothing to do with him anymore, other than destroy him.
“Bill please.. I need you, I.. I forgive you, Bill,”
“You forgive me?”
Ford jumped slightly in his skin. His eyes darted around the place. The buzzing of Bill's energy was back, he could just about hear it in between the pounding of his heart. He couldn't see Bill anywhere, but he could feel him, the tingling at his fingertips was back, with the occasional shock.
Ford should've felt angry. Bill shouldn't be here. He should've been relieved when Bill wasn't here! Instead he had wallowed away in his own thoughts. He didn't answer Bill, he just pulled himself to sit back down on the floor, resting back against the bookshelf.
“Don't fool yourself, Stanford. You don't forgive me, you're just tired of running.”
Ford hated that Bill was right. He was always right. Ford didn't forgive Bill, he was just tired, sick and tired of this endless chase. He let out a small sigh, hid his face in his hands and said,
“You win, Bill. You win. You can take me, kill me, whatever you want. Please.. I can't do this anymore. Put me out of my misery.”
There was a bright glow just in front of Ford's hands, glowing his palms like the heaven's themselves were just outside of Ford's hands. Maybe Bill had already destroyed Ford, and he was now sitting outside of the pearly gates of heaven. He moved his hands away, and was thoroughly disappointed by the sight of the small triangle floating right in front of his face.
What did he want? Why wouldn't he just kill Ford? Just do it already. Why was Bill staring at Ford like that? He looked so.. worried. Bill? Worried? Surely not. Bill slowly floated down to sit on Ford's knees, watching him. Why did he look so worried?
“Sixer.. you're not making this fun anymore, I.. you’re meant to be fun, exciting. What's wrong with you? Why are you giving up? You're not allowed to give up.”
What? Why didn't Bill want him to give up? Was this all just a game to him? A massive game of tag? Bill didn't want him to give up, so he could continue playing. Did he not want to kill Ford? Wasn't that the whole intention behind this? To capture and kill Ford? Bill wasn't making any sense.
“Please don't give up, IQ. I haven't had this much fun in so long! Trying to find you has been the most infuriating yet thrilling thing I've ever had to do. You can't give up now! I need you, Sixer!”
Bill.. needed him? Did he need him the same way Ford needed Bill? Without Bill, Ford was nothing. He was a joke of a scientist who would've never accomplished anything great. Did Bill feel a similar way about Ford? Surely not.. right?
Right?
Ford stared at the demon, ex-muse sat on his knee right now. He always loved it when Bill made himself this small, he always looked so sweet, Ford always wanted to pick him up, and just hold him in his hands. He wanted to touch his muse, feel the warmth, the static electricity he let off, feel it for himself, exactly how it felt.
He sighed,
“Okay.. I won't give up, Bill. I won't, I'll- I'll continue running, running from you, and we will, we'll continue our chase.”
Bill's expression changed, from worried to relieved. He closed his eye for a moment, seemingly thinking. About what? Ford did not know. He then opened it again and stared at Ford, and said
“Never stop running, Fordsy, for me, please.”
“I won't. For you, I won't.”
“It’s time to wake up now, Sixer.”
Ford closed his eyes and took a deep breath..he felt the world morph around him as he woke up, the floor moved from under him, to onto his side, and the static presence of Bill changed to the sounds of wind hitting cloth. He opened his eyes to the makeshift shelter he had fallen asleep in, in a small cave where his only protection from the outside elements was a cloth tapestry he had hung up.
Ford got himself up and put on his coat, blinking away the sleepy dust from his eyes. He packed up everything he had on him.. which wasn't much, and took down the tapestry, letting the sunshine into the room, and put the tapestry into his backpack. He climbed out of the cave and stretched up, and began to walk.. which meant, the chase between Bill and Ford continued. This time though, Ford actually understood the game. The chase was a game, a game between Bill and Ford.
But he couldn't help but ask himself, was this worth it?