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It had been three months since Bill was sent to the Theraprism and so far he had managed to scare off each and every one of the therapists assigned to him. He even got a few of them to resign, both from the profession and their own lives. Talk about a double whammy!
Powers or not, Bill wasn’t going down without a fight. He might’ve been stuck in here for an eternity and a half, but that didn’t mean he was going to make it easy for everybody else. Certainly not for the unlucky dimensional beings who got stuck with him.
His last therapist, some ball of fuzz from Dimension (>*]^q was definitely going to need therapy for the rest of his sorry excuse for a life. Oh well. His fault for asking about Euclydia.
One down, a gazillion more to go, Bill thought with an exaggerated sigh as he watched a short woman with bushy red hair step into the room. She smelled like bubblegum and wore a flowy shirt with lots of polka dots.
“Hello, Mr. Cipher,” she greeted him with just the right amount of kindness and professionalism. Bill decided that he hated her immediately. He gave her ten minutes tops before she ran back out screaming. “My name is Ms. Estrada.” Huh. What a human way to introduce herself. “Thank you for meeting with me today.”
“Not like I have much of a choice, Polka Dot. Hey, wait a minute.” Bill sat up suddenly. “You’re a fleshbag! Well, well, well.” He couldn’t help but smirk. “Looks like the ol’ amphib is getting desperate.”
Time Baby was not going to be happy about this when he came back into existence. Humans didn’t belong in the Therparism. There had been one too many incidents. Bill looked forward to watching the godly reunion crash and burn from afar if he hadn’t already burned it down before it even started.
Ms. Estrada smiled. “I’m from Earth, yes. What gave it away?”
Bill winked. “A magician never reveals his secrets.”
“No problem. I can respect that. Before we begin though, I am mandated to ask if you’re having thoughts of hurting yourself or others at this time.”
What a stupid question!
“Myself? Ha! Never. Others? I keep a regularly updated list. Wanna see?”
“Maybe later. The Axolotl mentioned it’s your version of a Burn Book.”
“Burn Book? What’s that?” Bill asked, trying not to sound too interested. So the name sounded appealing. Sue him!
But Ms. Estrada shook her head. Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “A conversation for another time.”
“If you last that long,” Bill mumbled under his breath.
“So!” she said brightly, hot pink nails tapping against the table. “How are you doing today, Mr. Cipher?”
“Pfft. Are you even trying, Polka Dot? I’m the same as yesterday and the day before.”
“Hm. It’s been rather… monotonous for you so far in the Theraprism, hasn’t it?”
“What’s it to you?” Bill snapped.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he waved her off with a flick of his hand. That same move would’ve been enough to destroy an entire planet. Bill couldn’t wait to get his powers back and wreak havoc on all of the beings that had ever so much as looked at him the wrong way.
“Unless you can offer me a way out of this shit hole then I don’t care what you think.”
“I can’t offer you a way out but I can make the experience worth your while.”
“You? A flesh bag. Offer me a good time? It’s funny how dumb you are.”
“Mr. Cipher—”
“La la la,” Bill sang as loudly and obnoxiously as possible while covering his non-existent ears. “I’m not listening!”
For a while, Ms. Estrada only looked at him without blinking. Then, without another word, she stood up and began rearranging the chairs in the room.
“There,” she said after bringing a third one and moving it across from Bill. “All finished.”
“What’d you do that for?” he demanded.
“Have you heard of the Empty Chair Technique?”
“’S that some kind of code word for a séance?”
Her mouth twitched. “Not quite.”
“Then I ain’t interested!” Back to singing it was. Extra extra loud. And even more annoying! “La le li lo lu~” I am making fun of you.
“It’s more like a roleplay activity with yourself,” Ms. Estrada explained loudly while tapping on her chin.
“Polka Dot!” Bill gasped, batting his eyelashes rapidly like some kind of maiden in distress. “How scandalous! What will the Axolotl think when he hears about you propositioning me this way? That isn’t very client-patient relationship of you,” he finished while wagging a finger in her face.
But Ms. Estrada was not deterred. “Not that kind of role-play, Mr. Cipher,” she said sternly.
“Please, call me, Bill,” he insisted with a grin that showed each one of his sharp teeth.
“Sure,” Ms. Estrada answered with a smile of her own. “If you agree to try it out.”
“Fine. I’ll humor ya. Just don’t blame me when you lose the ability to sleep at night. Seriously, don’t. There’s a waiver you gotta sign about not suing this place or its patients.”
Ms. Estrada’s smile widened. “I’m aware. And I assure you that it won’t be a problem, Bill. I’ve been dealing with insomnia since I was a kid.”
“How… convenient.”
Bill despised insomniacs. He couldn’t exactly invade a person’s dreams if they didn’t fall asleep in the first place, now could he?
“Very! Now, the process of the Empty Chair Technique is for you to envision either yourself or somebody else sitting there and simply talk.”
Bill pretended to yawn. “Sounds stupid. Why the heck would I do that?”
“Because, Bill, the Axolotl said that you would be able to have limited use of your powers during the exercise.”
“Ha!” Bill pushed himself away from the table and rose to the center of the room. “You should’ve just started with that, Polka Dot.”
They were fools. All of them. Ms. Estrada and the Axolotl especially. He was going to unravel her mind until she reached insanity and then he was going to go after that slimy pink cretin.
Ms. Estrada glanced up at him with a smile. “Once you have a person in mind, simply create a double of yourself depicting them in that chair.” She even sounded encouraging. Bill wouldn’t put it past her to secretly be some kind of masochist. She had to be if she had accepted this job in the first place. Either that or she was desperate. He wondered how much Axie was paying her.
Bill would find out soon enough. Just like how everyone else would find out what happened when you crossed the great Bill Cipher. He rubbed his hands together and then snapped only for… absolutely nothing to happen at all.
“Hey, what gives?” Bill floated back down next to Ms. Estrada trying not to look upset.
“It’s like I said, you can only use your powers for the exercise. Or maybe you’re having trouble coming up with a person?” she asked innocently. Bill clenched his jaw. “There isn’t anyone you’ve been wanting to speak to since you were sent here? Maybe a friend or possibly a parent?”
“Don't mention my parents,” he growled.
“Maybe an enemy then?” Ms. Estrada asked without missing a beat.
Bill raised an eyebrow then pretended to inspect his non-existent nails in disinterest. So his powers were a no go. Well rats. He should’ve known. Axie probably knew he’d try and pull a fast one on ‘em.
“I’ve got a lot of those,” Bill answered eventually.
“How about you pick the most recent one?” she suggested.
How about I rearrange your entire face and replace each hole with a polka dot! Bill thought bitterly. Out loud, he said the first name that came to mind.
“Stanford Pines.”
“Great choice,” Ms. Estrada beamed.
“I just want you to know that I hate you and I hate this shitty excuse for a session too.”
“Feel free to start whenever you’re ready,” Ms. Estrada said, face still beaming.
Bill turned toward the empty chair and imagined Ford sitting there in his Matrix-like get-up. The next time he blinked, there he was, looking not a day over sixty. For a moment, Bill could only stare. His hands were tingling. He’d missed using his powers. He’d missed…
“Sixer!”
“Cipher,” Ford greeted darkly.
Bill grinned. “Bet you’d thought you’d seen the last of me.”
“Stanley did punch you into pieces. Literally. So, yes,” Ford smirked all the while sitting up a little in his seat. Haughty bastard. “I believe I was valid in making that assumption.”
“Tough luck, Sixer. Cuz I fucking lived.”
“Hmph. I can see that.”
“Come on! Did you seriously think in that brilliant mind of yours that you’d actually succeed? Newsflash, Fordsy. I always come back. And once I get out of here, I’m going to go back to Gravity Falls and finish what I started.”
“I thought you said Stanford Pines was your enemy, Bill?” Ms. Estrada asked. “I’m also legally required to report any and all threats of violence just so you know.”
“He is my enemy,” Bill said without taking his eyes off of Ford. So what if she reported him? It wasn’t anything that Axie hadn't heard already. Still. Bill stuck out his tongue. Snitch.
“Oh. It’s just that you have cute nicknames for him—”
“Cute?!” Bill interrupted with an inhuman sounding shriek. He finally turned to look at Ms. Estrada who looked undeniably smug.
Neither of the names he had come up for Ford were cute. There was no denying it now: this woman definitely had a few screws loose.
“I have nicknames for everyone,” Bill explained, gaze shifting back to Ford who was watching him expectantly. He raised both his bushy brows when their eyes met again. “Sixer isn’t special.”
“—and then you called him brilliant too,” Ms. Estrada continued through a contemplative hum.
Bill made the same face he pulled whenever he flew past Dimension P00P, also known as the smelliest world in the universe. “His mind is brilliant. Fordsy’s a useless sack of meat without it.”
“I see. Sorry.” Ms. Estrada shrugged although she didn’t quite look sorry at all. “I guess I misinterpreted your relationship.”
“Clearly,” Bill snapped.
“Don’t be rude,” Ford admonished. “That poor woman has been nothing but kind to you since she got here.”
“Aw, does somebody have a crush?” Bill asked with a sneer.
Ford returned it with a sneer of his own. “And if I did? She seems like a lovely person. Kind. Considerate. Beautiful.”
Bill resisted the urge to recoil with every word. So what if Ford thought those things? So what if he had never called Bill any of them? It’s not like they had known each other for months, years. So. What.
“Are you going to threaten to kill her now too just like you did to everybody else in my life that showed even a semblance of care toward me?”
“You mean that sad excuse for a scientist, Cotton Eye Joe?” Bill took great pleasure in the hurt that flashed across Ford’s hazel eyes. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Sixer, but you did that all on your own.”
“You were manipulating me!” Ford cried out in protest but his voice shook, his posture crumpled.
Bill smirked. “Sure. But you were the idiot who fell for it. Guess you’re not as smart as we both thought.”
“I could say the same thing about you, Cipher.”
And just like that Bill’s smirk fell. “I’m not doing this crap anymore!” he declared before turning toward Ms. Estrada and knocking the table over along with all of her notes.
“You’re free to stop whenever you’d like.” Her reply was calm and nonchalant.
“It wasn’t even my idea,” Ford said out of nowhere. “Stan came up with it all on his own. What does it feel like to have been bested by someone you never even considered an equal?”
Bill whirled back toward him prepared to yell again only to find himself unable to say anything after Ford finished speaking. The only sound that could be heard was his own heavy breathing. What did it feel like indeed?
Bill had a hell of a lot of choice words for Ford but none of them were in languages he could understand. He settled on giving him the finger with both hands. Ford merely scoffed and turned away in disgust, mumbling something about Bill being more immature than Mabel and Dipper. It didn’t give Bill the satisfaction that he thought it would.
“You thought of Stanford as your equal?” Ms. Estrada asked, breaking the silence.
“Hell no! I only told him all of that to make him trust me.”
“Pray tell, what else was fake?” Ford asked.
“Do ya really wanna know? Wouldn’t want to bruise your fragile ego, Fordsy.”
“What about that night we got drunk and sang karaoke? Were all of the things you told me then fake as well?”
Bill tensed. He turned away from Ford and shrugged. “Don’t remember. Don’t care.” All of which was a lie. He could recall every word, every sentence. Bill had spent so much time rewatching that day like a movie marathon speedrun.
One sixer, please.
He’d been so pathetic. Still was, if he was thinking about it even now.
“I do,” Ford said after another round of silence. “Remember, that is.”
More silence. Bill didn’t bother to fill it. Ford didn't deserve a response after he left.
“But he doesn’t care,” Ms. Estrada supplied for him.
He blinked. “What?”
“You think Stanford Pines doesn’t care about you.”
“Why would he? I ruined his life, tortured him, and then tried to destroy his family alongside the rest of the world.”
“That doesn’t necessarily mean he doesn’t care about you.”
Bill’s laugh sounded hollow. “You’re fucked in the head, Polka Dot!”
“When did you start using such foul language?” Ford asked, nose wrinkled in distaste. He used to make that same expression so often back when they first met. Bill used to find it cute. Heck, maybe he still did.
Wait.
Wait, no. He was just thinking about that word because of what Ms. Estrada said earlier. There was nothing remotely cute about Stanford Filbrick Pines. Not with a name like that. Not the lone silver stripe in his hair either, nor the way he could ramble on and on about the lore from Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons for hours like some kind of wind up bauble toy.
“Oh, I dunno,” Bill said while pretending to think. “Maybe since I was shoved in this shitty excuse for a rehab center thanks to you and your family!”
“So you have an issue with the location,” Ford said as-a-matter-of-factly. “Then why not ask for a different center?”
Bill blinked again. “What.”
“If you aren’t satisfied with the services you are receiving there then you are entitled to be moved somewhere different. Just like with therapists, there is not a ‘one size fits all’.”
“What.”
Ford began tugging at his collar in frustration, exposing the length of his neck and a bit of his collarbone. He used to do that a lot too. Bill hated the way it made him feel then, the strange swoop it produced from within. He hated it now more too.
“Don’t tell me you weren’t aware that you could request a different therapist too?” Ford asked somewhat incredulously.
“Of course I fucking knew that!” Bill shouted. He did. Otherwise Ford wouldn’t be saying it. But Ford wasn’t actually there so Bill couldn’t say anything to him without looking dumb.
“There’s no need to get defensive. I’m merely stating a fact about your rights as a patient.”
“You’re helping me. Why are you helping me?”
“Because unlike you, Cipher, I’m not a heartless monster.”
Once upon a time, Ford had offered his help to defeat the monster who destroyed Euclydia.
He’ll eat you alive, Bill had told him. And yet… and yet… Ford still would have tried if Bill asked him to.
I could’ve given you the world, Sixer. He had told him not too long ago. Would Ford have done the same for him? Bill didn’t even have to finish wondering. One drawn out, longing look at Ford and he already knew the answer.
“Does that bother you, Bill?” Ms. Estrada asked. “Hearing him call you that?”
Bill glanced down at the ugly tiles on the floor. His own reflection stared back up at him. The glitched out scar running across his front looked like it was getting bigger. He didn’t want Ford to see it.
“Nothing that comes out of Sixer’s mouth hole matters to me anymore.”
“Which implies that at some point it did.”
“You said we were equals,” Ford said.
“Cuz I knew it’s what you wanted to hear,” Bill answered. “You were so lonely and desperate for validation. Fooling you was so pathetically easy.”
“You said we would’ve been great together. Partners. A team.”
Bill’s head snapped up and their eyes met so quickly he almost stumbled on his words. The room felt too hot, his outfit too tight. “Yeah, well, then came the betrayal of a goddamn century!”
“It seems we both betrayed each other in the end then.”
“As if. I’m a being of higher power, Sixer. Always ten steps ahead.”
“All the more reason for you to feel ashamed for letting yourself be fooled by mere mortals.”
“Is he right?” Ms. Estrada asked. “Do you feel ashamed?”
Bill glared. “Didn’t we just go over this earlier?”
“Are you avoiding the question?”
“Okay! Yes. Fucking fine.” Bill dragged a hand down his body with a groan. “I feel like dog shit for letting myself get bested by a pair of dysfunctional twin flesh bags. There? Happy??”
“I don’t think she’s happy to hear you speak about yourself that way,” Ford said quietly.
“Like you give a flying fuck on how I speak to myself!” Bill pointed a shaking finger at his face. “You’re out there having the time of your life with me gone. Free. Probably partying it up with Cotton Eye Joe now that you’ve been reunited.”
“You did spend quite a significant amount of our time together torturing me. But…” Ford’s voice trailed off. He still wore a frown but his expression had turned soft.
“But?” Bill asked, pathetically, desperately.
“...it wasn’t all that bad all the time. We had our moments.”
“You’re only saying that to make me feel better.”
Please don’t only be saying that to make me feel better.
Ford sighed. “I’m not a liar, Bill.”
“Prove it.”
“Nicknames weren’t really a customary thing for me. But I always called you my muse, didn’t I?”
Bill pursed his lips together until they hurt. Why was there suddenly so much pain? “Flattery,” he accused weakly.
“Honesty,” Ford countered.
“What else?” Bill demanded but Ford didn’t respond. He continued staring at Bill as if he was some kind of equation he didn’t understand. Or maybe a kicked puppy who would never be able to walk again.
“Fuck.” Bill turned toward Ms. Estrada. “Why isn’t he answering me?!”
“Because he isn’t real, Bill.”
“I know that! You’re just a useless meatsack. I’m the all powerful cosmic entity here. Just because I don’t have my powers fully now, just because I can’t use them to tear you into pieces, doesn’t mean I won’t do it eventually.”
“I have no doubt about that.”
“Then why isn’t he saying anything??” Bill was breathing heavily again. At some point, he felt like he couldn’t breathe at all.
“Because you don’t know what he would say. But… you want to know, yes?”
“I want…”
What did Bill want? The obvious came to mind easily. Freedom. His powers. World domination. Revenge. Yeah, yeah. But after that? What would come next?
“Understanding,” Ford spoke for him. Bill made a soft sound. Ms. Estrada said nothing. “You were always on my mind when you’d leave,” Ford continued with a small smile. “For better or for worse. How could I not think of you when you were the only one who ever saw me for who I truly was? You’re probably still in my head as we speak. Metaphorically, of course.”
Bill swallowed. “Of course.”
“Do you miss me then?” He heard himself ask. Cuz I do. But he never got a chance to hear a response.
Ford was gone.
And for the first time in his life, Bill panicked.
“What? No. No!” His voice cracked. Something inside him had broken. “Where’d he go? Bring him back.” Bill had to hear his response. He needed to know what Ford thought about him. “Do it now!”
“I’m sorry, Bill,” Ms. Estrada said. This time she actually sounded remorseful. “But our session has come to an end.”
“You tricked me!” Bill shrieked. If the table wasn’t already toppled over he would’ve flipped it again.
“Me? A useless flesh bag? How could I do something like that when you’re the all powerful cosmic being? No, Bill. I did not trick you.” Her teasing expression grew sad. “I only guided you through a therapeutic exercise designed to foster exploration and maybe even help you garner insight about yourself and your relationships in the process.”
Bill took a deep breath and then let it out. He did it a few more times until he was sure that he wasn’t going to make a bigger fool out of himself than he already had. Guess that one chick from the Mindfulness Dimension hadn’t been that useless.
“Well-played, Polka Dot,” Bill said, smiling begrudgingly. If he had his hat, he’d even tip it.
“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to share with me what you learned about yourself from this process?”
Bill gave a casual, if dismissive little shrug. “I didn’t learn anything I didn’t already know.”
“See you next time then?” Ms. Estrada asked hopefully. "We will have to discuss what happened today eventually."
“Only if I get to do the stupid chair thing again,” Bill grumbled. “Not because it was a good technique or anything,” he added quickly. “Honestly, it was a pathetic waste of your time! You barely asked me any questions, some therapist you are. I just missed my powers. That’s all. And making Fordsy squirm.”
Ms. Estrada coughed into her hand, no doubt to hide her smile. “Whatever you say, Bill. I’ll be back in a week.”
“Don’t you dare get your good for nothing meatsack into any trouble! And don’t be late either or else,” Bill threatened.
“Bye, Bill,” she said with a small wave, already halfway out of the room.
“Bye, Polka Dot,” Bill said out loud.
On the inside, he considered saying goodbye to Ford too but then thought against it.
When it came to Gravity Falls, Bill always came back. But when it came to Stanford Pines, he couldn’t help but shift his thinking a little. His plans too. And surprisingly, Bill was okay with it.
We’ll meet again.