Chapter Text
It had been two years since the destruction of Bill, a death that an entire dimension found joy over. Yet, secluded in a cell, sat the old triangle, worn down and broken into half a piece.
After calling upon Axolotl’s name and making a deal, he had been sent to the Theraprism—trapped in his own words—and forced to participate in mundane activities like “Arts N’ Crafts” or “Circle Time” in the triangle-shaped prison. And though these activities were supposed to “bring good behavior and self-reflection”, all it did for Bill was drive him mad.
While there were some activities he was easily able to brush off or hide from, there were others he wouldn’t be able to avoid, no matter how hard he tried. For example, Axolotl’s weekly visits. So, with the familiar creek of a metal door that kept him locked in this cell, a voice calls out.
“Bill, it’s time for your session.” The voice articulates politely enough, though it was clear he wasn’t happy about being the one forced to drag Bill to the one-on-one therapy session.
Glancing over to the figure, Bill’s form flashes a quick red before calming to a slight orange tint, clearly showing his building annoyance. Yet, with the blue chains around his wrists, there wasn’t much he could do to express it other than shout.
So, with a defeated sigh, he stands and makes his way towards the door the best he can on his own two feet. Cursing himself a couple of times, he finally makes his way to stand in front of the staff member.
It had been a millennia since Bill was forced to walk on his own two feet—more than that, in fact. And if that stupid Pines family hadn’t ruined his plans, he’d be floating his way to—
His thoughts are cut off by the staff member knocking on the door of the Axolotl’s office before being welcomed by a familiar echo, “Come in!” it invites, causing the staff member to open the door and get shoved inside.
Bill turns around to lash out at the person, yet finds the door already shut. Looking over his shoulder with a furrowed brow, he can distinctly see the patronizing smirk of that frilly freak. And yet, it wasn’t like he could defy a god.
“Ah, Bill. Come, sit.” Axolotl beckons, glancing at the soft chair in front of the desk it sat at. “I won't bite, you know.” It smiles kindly, tilting its head to the side.
With another annoyed groan and a hand drifting down his eye, he shuffles over to sit in the plush chair in front of the being, his arms crossing over each other. He wasn’t delighted to be here, and the awkward silence that slowly grew only showed to make things worse with every furrowing of his eye.
After a tense stare battle between the two, Bill’s impatience gets the better of him as he snaps, “What? Get on with it, will you? Or, what, do you expect me to whine and plead how wrong I was? Beg for forgiveness and ask to be reincarnated as a butterfly like that one guy?”
The Axolotl continues to stare for a moment before breathing out and changing the surrounding space to the galaxy Bill remembers when making the original deal. Then its voice rang out among the voided space, “Bill, I have some concerns.”
Bill snorts, yet the god continues in a soft voice, “You have made no advancements in your therapy. You’ve made no friends, haven’t learned anything, nor have you changed your behavior or mindset in the slightest.”
With a roll of an eye and a shrug, Bill retorts, “So what? Planning to give up on me? Set me free?” His voice becomes eager, “Oh! Or am I getting sent back? Oh-ho, you gotta give it up for this guy–”
A silence begins to fill the air as Bill’s joking comes to a slow stop, watching the axolotl's grin grow wider. He pauses before his brows furrow. “What, wait, wait. There’s no way,” A nervous chuckle leaves his glowing figure. “to Gravity Falls? The place I tried to take over? That place?”
The god simply nods before echoing out with a mused expression, “It would be nice and would give you an active environment.” It hums, continuing its fake pondering, “Perhaps you may see Stanford?”
Bill paused… Stanford? He hadn’t considered the possibility at first, but it made his brain swirl with uncertainty. Would he even want Bill back? Well, sure he would; who wouldn’t miss their old pal?
He hated the fact that he felt hesitation; this offer was too good to give up.
Giving the Axolotl one last look, he holds out a hand and says, “Fine, whatever.”
And so, the axolotl accepts his hand, shaking it as the world around them slowly shifts and crumbles into a familiar forest before Bill’s vision becomes completely black.