Chapter Text
PART I
The Axolotl’s got a shocking sense of humor considering their nature. Bill would maybe even feel inclined to commend it… if he weren’t on the receiving end of it.
He had known as soon as he’d re-taken his physical form that something was off. Bill had learned from his past adventures in human bodies that when humans are about to come down with some sort of illness, it’s possible for them to feel it coming for days beforehand. It’s a feeling that is usually only described as not particularly bad, just “not quite right”. Bill hadn’t understood it back then- he doesn’t know hunger or illness or exhaustion the way humans do- but he thinks he might now.
It’s only now, in fact- as he sits trapped in a 14 year old girl’s bookbag- that the weight of the situation hits him, and he begins to realize that something has gone so very, incredibly wrong.
“Dipper, are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Well what else are we supposed to do? We can’t just let him wander around!”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Mabel sullenly looks down at her shoes- a sparkling pair of purple hightops that she was particularly excited to show to Grenda and Candy. “I guess I was just hoping for a Bill-free summer. Is that too much to ask? Of all the places he could’ve ended up in- why here? Why not, like- Mars or something?”
“Hey, you think I wanted to end up here? I mean, don’t get me wrong- getting revenge on you two and your weird-smelling uncle was on my to-do list, but not right now! Not like this! But ol’ fish-face thinks this is some kind of sick joke and gets their kicks by indulging in my misery!”
“Ugh, was he always this talkative?" Mabel asks as she jabs the side of her bookbag.
Dipper, who until now had been frantically investigating the surrounding area for more clues, steps out from behind a nearby tree and puts his hands on his hips. “Okay, I made sure to mark exactly where we found Bill so I can show Grunkle Ford, and right now we’re heading… Mabel, what’s our compass say?”
Mabel shrugs. “No idea. It’s in the bookbag and I’m not risking going in to get it. It was a struggle getting him in there. Did you know he bites?”
“He bites? He doesn’t even have a mouth!”
Mabel holds up her hand, showing Dipper the fresh red bite marks on it. “Well that clearly didn’t stop him!”
“Okay, okay.” Dipper sighs and draws in a deep breath. “It’s fine. We’re fine as long as we get back to the shack- it’s still warded against Bill, remember? It’s the one place where we’ll all be safe.”
“YOU’LL NEVER BE SAFE AGAIN IF YOU DON’T LET ME OUT OF HERE!” Bill shrieks, causing Dipper to poke the bag with a stick he had found earlier and decided to bring along because he thought it looked cool- but now it seems to really be coming in handy.
“Yeah, you’re not very threatening when you’re trapped in a bookbag,” Mabel points out.
“How do you know I don’t want to be trapped in a bookbag?” Bill asks, still pinned down from the weight of all the things Mabel had brought with her. Surely no one needs all of this stuff. “You kids are still just as stupid as the last time we saw each other. How do you know you’re not falling right into my trap as we speak?”
“Because the last place you wanna go is the shack,” Dipper says with a knowing smirk, with that familiar know-it-all attitude. “It’s the one place where you hold no power and you know it.”
“And if you were able to stop us from going back to the shack, you would’ve done it by now,” Mabel adds.
“Exactly. Something’s up with you- and lucky for you, we don’t have anything better to do, so we’re gonna figure it out!” Dipper boldly declares.
“Speak for yourself. I had plans,” Mabel grumbles.
“Well cancel them! This is important!”
“You had plans, Shooting Star?” Bill asks, his tone reminding both twins of a sleazy car salesman. “How about this: let me escape Gravity Falls unharmed and you can have your summer fun. What do you say?”
“I say go play in traffic you geometric demon.”
“Maybe I will! I love playing in traffic!”
Mabel stops right in her tracks. “Oh yeah? Well do you also love eating dirt? Cause that’s what’s gonna happen in the next five seconds if you don’t shut up!”
“Yeah, I do love eating dirt, actually! Go on kid, throw another one at me, I could do this all day!”
Mabel turns to look at Dipper. She makes sure to talk loud enough for Bill to hear. “Do we really have to tell Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford? I mean, if we killed him right now and buried him here nobody would have to know. It would be our secret. We could take it to our graves.”
Dipper actually seems to be considering it for a moment, if his pensive expression is anything to go by. “Tempting, but… we’d better play it safe. We don’t even know if we can kill him like this. He could come back like a zombie or something.”
“True. He’s like a cockroach. Gross and unkillable.”
“Hey, watch it Shooting Star, or I’ll…!”
Bill falters, falling silent for a moment.
“You’ll what?” Mabel asks, smirking.
“I’ll…” Bill pauses, thinking for a moment, before grabbing the first thing he sees sitting in front of him. “I’ll destroy everything in here, starting with this… weird glittery book thing!”
Mabel’s eyes go wide with panic. “No, that’s my sticker book you little creep! Give it back!”
“Well if you want your precious book you’d better do as I say and let me out of here!”
“Dipper!” Mabel whines.
“Relax Mabel, he’s not gonna tear up your book, because if he does he’s gonna be trapped in that bookbag for eternity.”
“As if! I’m not afraid of you Pine Tree! I’ll make you two wish you were never born!”
“Yeah, okay Yap-Central, whatever you say,” Mabel says halfheartedly before she’s suddenly gasping and grabbing onto Dipper’s sleeve. “Dipper! We’re back!”
Dipper- who’d been caught up in his own journal mumbling to himself- looks up at the sight of the shack greeting the two of them. “Finally! Now let’s get him down to the lab- there’s gotta be some rope lying around here somewhere. We’ll keep him tied up down there and call Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford.”
“I’ll go get Soos and Wendy, for backup.” Mabel shrugs off her squirming bookbag and tosses it onto the ground. It lands with an unceremonious plop and a little “oof!” noise. “Keep an eye on him until I get back.”
Bill peeks through a tiny opening in the zipper. “You mean you’re bringing Fordsy here?”
Dipper visibly cringes. “Ew. Don’t call him that.”
“Oh, I have lots of nicknames for good ol’ Stanford. Sixer. IQ.” He wiggles his eyebrow. “Honey-pie.”
Dipper shoots him a disgusted look, and Bill laughs.
“Okay, fine, I made that last one up. But he had a thing for nicknames too, you know. He was all 'oh, my Muse, my sun, you’re so wonderful, every day I feel so grateful that fate brought us together'. Real poetic stuff. Almost made me blush a few times.”
“Shut up!” Dipper storms over to the bag and kicks it, some of the contents from the front pockets spilling out onto the ground. “You know, you’re unbelievable. I saw into Grunkle Ford’s mind- he really thought the world of you. Somehow, some way, he saw something good in you. He was probably the only person who ever did. And now that you’re captured all you can do is make fun of him to try and make yourself feel better, but you and I both know the truth- Grunkle Ford has a life and a family and you have nothing. Powers or no powers, you’re nothing without him.”
Tense silence falls between them. Dipper anxiously stares down at where Bill is just barely peeking out. The look in his eye is unreadable- and for a moment Dipper wonders if Bill is going to skin him alive or melt him with a laser.
But just when Dipper thinks that maybe he’d managed to shut the triangle up, Bill speaks again.
“...Wow, kid. Sheesh. Sounds like you need to maybe unpack some of your issues in therapy. At least, that's what I would say if therapy actually did anything. Hey, pro-tip from me to you- you should totally lie to those schmucks. They don’t know what they’re talking about. If you actually listen to anything they say, you’ll realize that it’s just a bunch of gibberish strung together in such a way that it makes them sound intelligent. You know what helps me when I’m feeling down?”
“Gee, I don’t know, throwing kittens into a meat grinder?”
“What?" Bill barks out a high-pitched cackle. “Just how cartoonishly evil do you think I am? I was just gonna say alcohol but you went and made that unnecessarily dark. Yikes.”
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize that was too far for the murderous intergalactic dictator.”
“I prefer liberator. Dictators are all about rules.”
Dipper storms over to the bag, preparing to kick it into the stratosphere, when all the sudden he’s being grabbed by the collar of his shirt- not unlike the way a mother cat picks up a kitten by the scruff of its neck.
“Whoa dude, take it easy,” Soos says from behind him.
“Yeah, he’s just trying to rile you up to distract from the fact that he’s been completely humiliated by two teenagers.” Wendy smirks and lifts up the wriggling bag. “Aren’t you?”
“I’M GOING TO MAIL YOUR CORPSE TO YOUR FAMILY! INCLUDING YOUR COUSINS AND THAT WEIRD UNCLE YOU DON’T TALK TO!”
Unperturbed, Wendy just nods. “See? Told you.”
“Um…” Dipper folds his arms across his chest. “Soos, you can put me down now.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry. And uh, totally not body-shaming or anything, but you seem heavier these days.”
Dipper puffs his chest out a bit. “Thanks for noticing! You know, I think I’m actually about to go through another growth spurt because I’ve been gaining some weight lately and I think it’s my body preparing to-”
“Dipper!” Mabel flicks his nose. “Evil triangle! In my bookbag!”
“Right. Yeah. Sorry.” Dipper clears his throat. “Okay guys, let’s get out of here before we end up going with the other plan.”
“Uh, what was the other plan?” Soos asks.
“Beat him with a stick, bury his corpse in the forest and tell nobody,” Mabel says.
“...Oh. Okay.”
It was Ford’s mistake to be naïve enough to think that something like this wouldn’t happen. It was Ford’s mistake to leave the kids alone in Gravity Falls, with nothing but the shack to protect them.
“For God’s sake Stanford, would you calm down? I’m trying to drive here and you’re makin’ me nervous.”
“Then drive faster!” Ford shouts, his leg bouncing in a way it hasn’t since final exam weeks back in college. “Bill could be holding them captive right now as we speak!”
“I get it, but… I mean, don’t you think it’s weird that the kids sounded pretty calm on the phone?”
“That could all be a trick! He’s using them as bait, trying to lure me back to Gravity Falls- damn it!” Ford slams his fist against the dashboard. “It’s the equation, it has to be. That’s what he’s after. He’ll need it if he wants to restart Weirdmageddon.”
“Look, I’m worried too, obviously- but let’s wait till we get there before we start freakin’ out. We’re no good to anybody if we crash here and die.”
“Okay. Okay.” Ford draws in a deep breath in a likely futile attempt to calm himself. “You’re right. Okay. Let’s try to think about this rationally.”
“Yeah, something I’m famously good at.”
“Assuming that they’re not possessed or under Bill’s influence in any way- and that's a very bold assumption- the kids said they have Bill tied up in the basement. That means he’s in a physical form.”
“Good! That means I can punch him! Again!”
“But a physical form that’s weak enough for them to overpower? Does that sound like Bill to you?"
Stan shrugs. “I dunno. Soos is a big guy, Wendy kicks ass, and Mabel’s tougher than she looks. Even Dipper’s got some muscle now. I wouldn’t rule it out.”
“Stanley.”
“Fine then, what’s your theory? Is it... some kind of impostor? Who’d wanna pretend to be that loser?”
“I don’t know, but we need to consider all possibilities. Even the worst one.”
Stan’s grip on the steering wheel tightens until his knuckles go white. “...Yeah. I’m considering it. Sounds wonderful.”
“...It’s not wonderful at all, it’s a terrible possibility that could endanger the lives of countless…”
The words quickly die in Ford’s mouth as he comes to a realization.
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” His eyes dart over to the speedometer. “What’s the fastest we could go without risking a ticket?”
“Already goin’ twenty over the speed limit.”
Ford takes another deep breath. Many years ago, he’d learned breathing exercises from his doctor to help manage stress and anxiety. Sometimes, if the planets were aligned just right on that day, they would help.
Today is not one of those days.
He just has to keep thinking rationally, like Stan had said. Even if the worst is true, then Bill needs the children alive. They’re his bargaining chip.
...And if Ford hadn’t left them defenseless, left them alone, then they wouldn’t be bargaining chips. He could protect them, keep them safe-
“Don’t do it,” Stan says after a moment of the only sound in the car being Ford’s anxious leg-thumping.
“Do what?”
“Fall into a self-loathing spiral about how you wish you hadn’t done this or that. You’re on the verge of one- I can tell.”
Ford wants to argue, but no words come out- at least none that would make for any kind of real argument.
“That’s the last thing you or any of us need right now, and it’s not gonna help the kids. You keep your head on, okay? Let’s try and think about this. You said Bill wants some kind of equation. What for?”
Ford is still working on not feeling the harsh pangs of guilt whenever the remaining spots of his brother’s missing memory make themselves known. “...To take Weirdmageddon world-wide. Gravity Falls has a natural barrier around it that keeps Bill inside. If he’s really back, he’ll… he’ll kill you or one of the kids if I don’t give it to him.”
“Yeah, sure. That’s what the Bill Cipher we know would’ve done,” Stan reasons. “But what if- and hear me out- what if the kids are really tellin’ the truth? If they actually, for real, have Bill Cipher trapped in your basement- what are you gonna do?”
Ford considers this for a moment. The thought seems implausible in every sense of the term, but… it was Gravity Falls, and throughout his life his knowledge of what was possible and what wasn’t was endlessly changing. Bill Cipher- powerless. Weak.
And in his basement. It sounds like the set-up to a bad joke.
“...I don’t know,” he finally says. “If Bill is actually weak enough to physically overpower, that raises some other concerning questions.”
Stan briefly looks down at the GPS. “If I keep going at this speed we’ll make it there in an hour. Do me a favor and pray that we don’t get pulled over.”
Thankfully, the twins are safe- and somehow almost seem twice as big as the last time Ford saw them, which wasn’t that long ago.
It also seems that Mabel has really gotten into friendship bracelets, if her colorful arms were anything to go by. Dipper, on the other hand, is trying to be subtle about how proud he is of his new slow-growing chin hair- with the keyword there being “trying”.
They’re safe- that’s what matters. And unless Bill has found some way to bypass the barrier, Weirdmageddon doesn’t seem to be imminent. But even so, Ford can’t help but wish they were all reuniting under better circumstances.
“So, normally this would be the part where we catch up and talk about boat life, but as usual the little triangle freak has to ruin everything.” Stan pulls his brass knuckles out of his pockets and walks over to the vending machine. “Alright. You said he’s weak now? I say we go in there and beat the shit out of him till he starts talking. All in favor?”
Wendy, Mabel, and Dipper all raise their hands.
“Oh come on. Ford, what the hell?” Stan asks. “Come on, of all people, you have to wanna lay into ‘im the most, right?” He gestures to the vending machine. “Here’s your chance!”
Ford holds up a hand. “Hold on Stanley, we need to get an accurate assessment of the situation before we go in guns blazing. I… I think I should go alone.”
Stan is quick to shut that idea down. “Absolutely not. Together or not at all.”
Knowing that there was no fighting him on this, Ford doesn’t argue. “Okay, fine. But the kids stay up here- I’m not negotiating on that.”
Stan nods. “Agreed.”
Dipper and Mabel- as expected- try to argue, but Stan quickly stops their protests. “No. You kids did good. I’m proud of you, seriously. But until we figure out what’s going on here, all the kids plus Soos stay up here. Capiche?”
Wendy nods, and Soos salutes him. “You got it Mr. Pines!”
“Wait, Grunkle Ford!” Dipper rushes over to him, thrusting his journal into his hands. “Take this. I recorded everything in there- where we found him, what he said to us, what I noticed about him. I… I don’t know if it’ll help at all but I just thought you should have it.”
Ford flips to the last few pages. The words on the top of the page read “HE’S BACK!” scrawled in what appears to be a panic, if the handwriting is any indication.
He smiles reassuringly at Dipper. “Of course this will help. I’m going to need all the information I can to try and piece this together. Thank you.”
He then turns around to face the vending machine.
“You ready?” Stan asks.
“No,” Ford says, without any hesitation.
“...Yeah,” Stan mumbles with a long, tired sigh. “Me neither.”
Ford isn’t sure what he was expecting to see when he walked into his lab, but even so, this still feels… well, unexpected.
Just like the kids said, Bill is there, tied tightly to an old pipe sticking out of the wall, as his usual triangular self. But he quickly discovers that something is different about him.
There’s a long, jagged scar along his body- no, rather, a crack . Ford can see it splitting his form, revealing the dim light of his energy peeking out from within.
Curiosity builds up inside him. He wants to ask about it. And much to his chagrin, there’s even a part of him that wants to hear Bill tell him about it. But Bill has never been one to show weakness of any kind, so Ford isn’t surprised to see him greeting him like nothing’s happened.
“Fordsy!” he exclaims cheerfully. “My old friend! Good to see you! How long has it been? No, wait, don’t answer that. Too long. It’s been too long.”
Ford opens his mouth to speak, to start tearing Bill a new one for even daring to step foot in this dimension again… but his mouth can’t form the words.
There’s a lot he wants to say to Bill. He’d thought of this exact scenario so many times, on so many sleepless nights and dreary afternoons at sea- about what he might say if he ever encountered Bill again. During those times the words came pouring out like a broken faucet- all variations of overflowing vitriol, and sorrow, and wondering if this is truly how it all came to end.
And now that the moment has finally come, he falls silent.
“Cat got your tongue, Sixer?” Bill teases. “Or maybe you’re just so happy to see me that you’re speechless.”
“Enough with the fake niceties you little freak,” Stan interjects. “Start talking. Why are you here?”
“Stanford,” Bill says, voice dripping with saccharine sweetness that Ford could sense the dishonesty in from a mile away. “Would you mind putting the dog out so we can talk? He’s being rude.”
“You sure it’s wise to be talkin’ to me like that? Cause from what I hear, you’re not doing so hot. And I’m starting to think that that might be true,” Stan gestures to his brass knuckles. “So I suggest you start bein’ a team player, Cyclops.”
If Bill is at all intimidated- he doesn’t show it. “HA! Look at you talking all tough! It’s cute watching Ford do it, but coming from you it’s… honestly, kind of cringeworthy.”
Ford finally manages to find his voice before Stan decides to stop being civil. “Enough with the games. Tell me how you got here.”
“You love playing games, though.” Bill leans back against the wall and puts his arms up behind himself. “Tell you what. Beat me at a game of chess, and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
Ford tries not to visibly react to the vivid flood of memories- of teacups and chess pieces and starry skies. “...Chess? Seriously?”
“Yup.” Bill makes a popping noise and mimes moving chess pieces around a board. “Just one game. Like the good old days, right?”
Ford’s expression darkens. Bill must certainly still take him for a fool if all he can say to him now is to ask for a game. The longer he stands here looking at Bill leisurely leaning back against the wall, the more frustrated he becomes- to think he’d spent so much time agonizing and lamenting over everything that had happened, everything that had led to this point- and Bill just wants to play a game. “...Let’s go, Stanley. We’re leaving.”
“Wait!” Bill holds out a hand, almost as if he was reaching for him. “Come on, don’t be like that! If I have no powers I can’t cheat! It’ll just be an honest old-fashioned game!”
“You never cheated,” Ford says somberly, grimacing as he prepares to admit something that had taken him an embarrassingly long time to figure out. “You let me win.”
“And what would I get from that now?”
“How the hell should I know? You tend to do things, and I quote, 'for shits and giggles'.”
“Ha!” Bill erupts into raucous laughter, kicking his legs. “I like how you said that. That was funny.”
“That’s enough. This is stupid. Are you going to talk or not?”
“Ugh. You’re killing me here, man. Alright, if it’s you, and if you beg, then… sure. I’ll cooperate. I guess.” Bill finally says. “And I mean just you, Sixer. No inferior twins or annoying children allowed."
"Why? Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of my family."
"That so?" Bill crosses his legs. "Then how about we talk about karaoke night? I'm sure your brother here would love to hear all the details on that one."
Ford flushes red as Stan glances between the two of them, visibly confused. "Uh... what's he talkin' about?"
"Nothing," Ford says dismissively. "It's... not relevant to the situation at all. He's just trying to rile me up."
"So then let's talk like adults. Over a nice game of chess and a bottle of wine, like we used to!" Bill insists.
“No,” Stan says.
Bill waves a dismissive hand. "Sorry, was I asking you? This is an A-B conversation. Shoo!"
"Well, it's just that I know Sixer here well enough to know what the answer is," Stan says smugly.
For a moment Ford feared that this facade would come tumbling down and the real Bill would finally come out. Any second now he'd grow to twice their size and squeeze the life out of Stan.
But instead, Bill just laughs, the same way he always does. “Calling him 'Sixer' like you know him the way I do. Oh Stanley, you know, even though you’re inferior to Fordsy in every conceivable way, sometimes you do still crack me up. When I get out of here, I’m going to turn you inside out and use your skin to make a sock puppet!”
“No, you won’t,” Ford says, fixing him with a fierce, knowing stare. “Because if you were going to do that, you would’ve done it by now. You like to play the long game- but not like this. It’s just as Dipper wrote in his journal- if you could help it, you would’ve avoided going to the shack at all costs. In fact… come to think of it… if you were going to come back- the last place you’d want to be is Gravity Falls. At least not initially. You would’ve chosen anywhere else that you could get a portal up and running. Much easier that way- to avoid the barrier and all. Which means you didn’t have a choice, am I right?”
Bill shrugs, trying to play it off. “Unfortunately, my body was still trapped in this stupid hick town, so yeah, I had to make a quick pit stop. Sue me.”
“It doesn’t matter. You wouldn’t risk any of us outsmarting you again if you could help it. If you were at full strength, you wouldn’t give us the chance.”
Bill narrows his eye. “So what are you saying, Sixer?”
Ford smirks with barely-contained amusement. He couldn't believe it at first, but after seeing the state that Bill is in for himself, with his own eyes... it's almost comical. “I’m saying you’re weak, Bill. Whatever you did to get back here, you had to pay a price for it.”
“Interesting theory,” Bill says with a thoughtful hum. “So what will you do if you’re wrong, and you’re putting everyone you love in danger by keeping me prisoner here?”
Ford winces ever so slightly- but he refuses to let the threat get to him. “The shack is the best place for you to be right now. So until you decide to cooperate, that’s where you’ll stay. More specifically- down here.”
“What?!" Bill jumps up from his relaxed position against the wall, the ropes tightening as he tries to get closer to Ford. “You mean you’re just going to leave me down here?”
“I am. If you don’t want to cooperate, that’s fine. But I won’t allow you to terrorize anyone else. So yes. I’m going to leave you down here.”
“You- you can’t be serious! I just came back from the dead, don’t you want to know how?!”
“...No,” Ford says, keeping his eyes on the floor. He can’t look him in the eye, not right now.
But Bill knows him too well to believe him. “Liar. Liar, liar, pants on fire."
“...Believe what you want, Cipher. It doesn’t change the fact that this is where you’re staying for now.” Ford turns his back to Bill and gestures towards the exit. “Let’s go, Stanley. We’re leaving.”
Stan grins and flashes Bill a middle finger before following his brother to the exit.
“How’d it go?” Dipper asks as soon as the two of them return to the shop.
“Did you beat him up?” Wendy excitedly asks. “We all placed bets on who would punch him first.”
“...Damn. I think I’m rubbing off on you kids,” Stan says before throwing an arm around Ford’s shoulders. “Sorry, no punches today. But what Stanford here said to him was almost as good. You guys should’ve seen the look on his face!”
“He… won’t share any details about his return unless he gets to talk to me alone,” Ford adds.
“You can’t do that Grunkle Ford,” Mabel says, shaking her head. “What if he uses some kind of new weird magic to trick you or something?”
“Yes, well- that’s exactly why none of you are to go anywhere near him. The basement is off limits. I don’t want any of you going down there- and yes, that includes you, Stanley. And you too, Dipper. And for God’s sake, don’t tell anyone about this. No one else can know- if the town finds out that Bill’s back they’ll start panicking and the last thing we need right now is mass hysteria.”
“Well, what about McGucket? Shouldn’t he know?” Dipper asks.
Ford’s face softens at the mention of his longtime friend. “No,” he says. “Not even him. I know he can help, but… Fiddleford has suffered enough because of me. He’s reconnecting with Tate and finally living the life he deserves to live- I refuse to get in the way of that again.”
Stan puts a hand on each of the twins’ shoulders. “Look, kids- I know this isn’t how you wanted your summer to start out. But we’re in the safest place we could possibly be. Bill can’t get to you and he can’t get in your head. We’re gonna figure this out, but in the meantime, I want you to try and relax, okay?”
In a moment that made both him and his brother swell with pride, the twins both nod with a newfound confidence. “We’re not afraid of him anymore,” Mabel reassures him.
“Yeah,” Dipper adds. “Not after we saw how pathetic he was in the woods. Speaking of which- Grunkle Ford, we should head out before it gets dark! I can show you exactly where we found him! I marked it and everything!”
For a second, Ford considers opening his mouth to say yes- investigating where Bill first appeared would possibly produce some useful clues. But Stan stops him before he can.
“Nuh-uh. I’m putting a stop to all the Bill stuff for today,” Stan says firmly. “Wendy, Soos- take them out for a few hours. I need to have a talk with my brother alone.”
“Uh- what are we supposed to do?” Wendy asks.
“I dunno, go feed them or something,” Stan says dismissively as he waves them off.
“Yes sir!”
“Come on guys,” Wendy says as she gestures towards the door. “Let’s go hit up that new Mexican restaurant.”
Ford watches them leave. There’s a part of him that wants to tag along- but he knows how important it is for the kids to have some sense of normalcy in all this. Somehow, he can’t help but feel like whenever he’s around, things can never truly be “normal”.
“Alright, now that the kids are gone, be honest: do you really think Bill can’t hurt them?” Stan bluntly asks. “Because if there’s any chance that Bill could be faking all this, I’ll send them back to their parents right now.”
“They came up here early to get away from their parents,” Ford reminds him. “Don’t you think they’ll be upset if you try to force them to go home?”
“Still gotta be better than being roomies with the triangle that tried to kill them,” Stan argues. “I want them to have a good summer more than anything. But with Bill here I don’t think that’s possible. They might be miserable at home, but at least they’ll be safe.”
“I…” Ford sighs and runs a hand over his face. “I hate to admit it, but I don’t know what the right answer is here. I do feel pretty confident that Bill can’t do anything to us- especially in the shack. I know him well enough to know that he wouldn’t humiliate himself like this if he could avoid it. And… if we were to send the children back against their will… could they forgive us?”
Stan heaves a long, heavy sigh. “Alright. We’ll give it some time. But if anything goes wrong, if at any point it looks like he’s gonna do something to one of the kids, we’ll send them back. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Ford says, nodding. “I have a feeling Bill is going to crack soon anyways. He can’t stand being ignored.”
He hopes that that comes sooner rather than later.
Ford knows that if he were to tell the kids not to go down to the lab and then go down there himself, he’d be setting a poor example.
On the other hand though, it’s better if it’s him rather than anyone else. After all, he’s the one Bill really wants.
But he’s done good at restraining himself so far in the name of keeping the peace and trying to give the kids the best summer they can have while a demon is trapped in their basement. He keeps himself busy with Dipper and Mabel, which helps him keep his mind off things. Since Ford had learned of Bill’s return just a week ago, he had feared that they wouldn’t be able to have any moments like this. But he’s come to realize that he’s let Bill hang over him like a shadow for far too long.
Stan has said before that he refused to let Bill force him to live in fear or misery. Ford figures that it’s finally time for him to do the same.
“So, long story short, I think I might have accidentally ended up married to some kind of mermaid queen.”
“Oh my gosh! That’s amazing!” Mabel exclaims, beaming. “Are we ever gonna get to meet her?”
Stan shrugs. “Eh, unlikely. She’s a busy woman- she’s got a kingdom to run and all. But apparently she has like- fifty husbands. Fifty-one including me. So they can keep her company till we see each other again.”
“And you’re cool with her having fifty other husbands?”
“I’m a broad-minded guy, Dipper. If a hot mermaid chick wants to have fifty-one husbands- who am I to say she shouldn’t? Hell, throw in some wives too for all I care.”
“So then it’s true that mermaids are, like- beautiful?”
“Oh, yeah. She was a total babe- and she was into me,” Stan says proudly as he takes a sip of what he told the kids was apple cider.
“What about you Grunkle Ford?” Mabel asks, shifting her attention to him. “Did you find a special someone while you were out at sea?”
Ford laughs off the idea. “Oh, no. That’s more up Stanley’s alley. I set out to the seas to discover mysterious creatures- not to find love. Personally, I was far more invested in trying to uncover the truth about the kraken.”
Stan slings an arm around his shoulder. “Ha! Don’t let him fool you. He was totally jealous that the mermaid chick liked me more than him.”
“If you recall, she called us both handsome,” Ford points out.
“And yet I’m her fifty-first husband.” Stan playfully ruffles his hair in a way he hasn’t since they were kids. “Nah, he could totally score a date if he wasn’t so focused on trying to find monsters in the ocean. I never thought I’d see the day, but chicks actually dig the whole nerd thing he’s got going on.”
“Finding monsters in the ocean is a valuable use of my time, thank you very much,” Ford insists.
“Did you find a kraken?” Dipper asks.
“Oh we found one alright. It almost destroyed our boat," Stan grumbles.
“But it was huge! It was unlike anything I’d ever seen!” Ford gushes. “Destructive and aggressive, yes- but what a sight it was! Oh, I wish I could’ve taken a picture- but I did draw it!”
Dipper’s eyes light up. “Man, you must have added a bunch of new entries to your journal since I last read it- can I see it again sometime?”
He’d never admit it- but there’s a part of Ford that’s happy that Dipper still takes an interest in his journals even now that the mystery is gone. “Of course! And um- thank you, by the way. For giving me your notes. They were incredibly helpful. You have an eye for detail.” He reaches into his coat pocket and hands the journal back to him. “I know you’re still young, but have you considered college?”
“Ford, come on, they’re barely into high school,” Stan chides him.
“It’s a perfectly reasonable question,” Ford says defensively. “I was thinking about college as soon as I started sixth grade.”
“Oh, uh- well, I’m not one hundred percent sure yet, but now that we’re in high school we’re starting to talk about it in our classes, and Mabel and I were thinking that maybe we could go to a school here in Oregon,” Dipper says casually. “We’d really save money if we could stay here instead of having to get dorm rooms.”
“You- you kids would really wanna go to school here?” Stan asks.
“Yeah, why? Do you not want us to?” Mabel asks as she puts the finishing touches on her nail polish.
“Wha- no! I mean, yes! I mean- it’s fine! You can stay here, I just- I’m surprised that you’d wanna go to school here when California has a lot of great options.”
“Yeah, but… if our parents are still fighting like that by the time we get to college, I’d rather not stay in the house,” Dipper mumbles.
There’s more there that they don’t know, undoubtedly. The only time their parents had called was to inform them that the twins had gotten angry, scraped together their allowance money for some bus tickets, and went off to Gravity Falls. They had offered to come get the twins if it was too much trouble to let them stay- but Stan had assured them to take all the time they needed to work things out.
“Do they know yet that you’re Stanley and not me?” Ford had asked.
“Uhh… shit. Well. Hope there aren’t any family reunions any time soon, or things might get awkward.”
Neither he nor Stan had pried further, figuring that they’d talk about it when they’re ready.
“And besides, California doesn’t have you or Grunkle Ford,” Mabel adds.
Stan pretends that he’s wiping something out of his eye, and Ford smiles warmly at the two of them. “Well, you’re both always welcome here. I’m sorry that your parents aren’t getting along.”
“Eh, it’s nothing new,” Mabel says dismissively. “Anyway, that stuff’s depressing. What we should be talking about is that season premiere for Ducktective! Was that crazy or what?”
Ford welcomes the change in subject. “Yes, I… get why they like it, but I don’t understand your interest in it, Stanley."
“Hey! It’s for all ages! What I’ll never understand is that ‘Doctor What’ show you got into. I mean- there’s a million different guys playin’ the same character? What even is that?”
“It’s called regeneration Stanley, and it’s the key to the show’s longevity!” Ford argues. “Dipper, Mabel- I must introduce the two of you to ‘Doctor Who’- it’s incredible!”
Stan nudges him, snorting with laughter. “Hey, remember when you dressed up as one of ‘em for Halloween and nobody knew who you were? Ha!”
“I knew who I was, and that’s all that matters,” Ford says, relieved at the fact that a childhood memory had come up all on its own.
“I think I’ve heard of that show before,” Dipper says. “Didn’t they just come out with a new season?”
“It's still going?!” Ford exclaims. “Oh, why didn’t anyone tell me? I have so much to catch up on!”
“Yeah, well- on Thursday nights the TV’s mine. That’s Ducktective night,” Stan says firmly.
“That reminds me though- last summer I started a list of great movies that Grunkle Ford missed while he was gone! I should finish it! Then we can have movie nights!” Mabel quickly jumps to her feet. “Come on Waddles!”
Dipper also follows after her- likely to give his thoughts on what should be on the list- and not long after that, Stan gets up from the couch, stretching. Ford grimaces when he hears one of Stan’s bones pop. “Alright, well- I think I’m gonna hit the hay. Don’t stay up too late- and don’t go downstairs.”
“I won’t,” Ford says.
What he doesn’t mention is the part of him that yearns to do just that- the part he’s kept quiet about for fear of alarming Stanley or the kids. He wants the kids to have a good summer above all else- and he’ll do whatever it takes to ensure that.
Even if it means shoving down his desire to pick Bill’s brain.
There is no such thing as peace when you've got a triangular demon trapped in your basement. But for just a short time, Ford felt like they were maybe getting close to something like peace. A comfortable discomfort.
But then the screams start early on a Saturday morning. Ford had initially thought it was a fox- they tend to be especially loud during their mating season.
Oh, how he wished it had just been a fox.
Bill seemed to have finally decided he’d had enough of being ignored. Honestly, Ford is surprised it took him this long to pull a stunt like this.
“You know, when I first heard that screaming I thought it was Dipper freaking out over the journals again,” Mabel says with a smirk as she pours syrup on her pancakes.
“I don’t sound like that!” Dipper insists as he snatches the bottle from her.
“No, unfortunately it seems our guest is getting impatient,” Ford grumbles as downs the rest of his coffee.
“Mabee hill thire himshulf ow,” Mabel says through a mouthful.
“Mabel, honey, finish chewing before you talk. It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full,” Ford tells her gently. “Right? Is that still the custom? Sorry. I’m still getting used to social norms in this dimension.”
Mabel, thankfully, swallows before speaking again. “I was just saying that maybe he’ll tire himself out,” she says.
“Unlikely, I’m afraid,” Ford shakes his head. “He can keep that up as long as he wants. I know from experience.”
“Yeah, but that was the old Bill. Remember, this Bill is weaker. Mabel might be right- maybe he will tire himself out,” Dipper points out.
As much of a relief as it is to know that Bill is weaker now, it also makes him harder to predict, and that is what truly worries Ford.
“He better, ‘cause I need my beauty sleep,” Mabel says. “If I so much as breathe the wrong way then by this time next week I’ll be bloated and covered in pimples, so I have to do what I can. By the way, where’s Grunkle Stan? He didn’t come out for pancakes.”
“You’ll never believe this, but- sleeping. I believe Stanley could sleep through a nuclear war,” Ford says. He stands up to refill his mug, but pauses when he spots Dipper standing in front of the coffeemaker.
He then spits the contents of his mouth into the sink. “This is what everyone tells me I’m missing out on? It’s gross!”
Ford barely bites back a laugh at the sight of Dipper’s disgusted face. “Well, over the years you can develop a taste for it. It’s not for everyone. You might like it better if you try some cream and sugar. Oh, that reminds me- I once encountered a dimension where everyone was on caffeine highs due to the insane amount of caffeine that was in their coffee. The end goal was to increase productivity, but all it did was make people work longer, not better. I tried that myself once before and trust me- the results were not favorable.”
“It feels like you’ve been in every dimension ever, Grunkle Ford,” Mabel says as she scrolls through her phone.
Ford laughs and waves a dismissive hand. “Hardly! But I suppose I have seen more than the average human…”
“We’ll get interdimensional travel right someday,” Dipper says as he pulls the orange juice out of the fridge. “Right? 'Cause right now it… feels like we’re playing catch-up with all the other dimensions.”
“Most likely, if humanity continues to advance as it should,” Ford says honestly. “But hopefully it’ll be a long time from now. It's not all it's cracked up to be.”
The thing is... it kind of is. Despite the terror and the danger and the constant threat of Bill hanging over him in every dimension he stumbled into, it was, in fact, all it was cracked up to be and more. But it's nothing for the kids to be worrying about, nothing for Dipper to think that he's missing out on.
Besides, despite all the amazing things he had seen, he thinks this dimension is still the best.
In the end, unsurprisingly, it’s Ford who breaks first- as always. He comforts himself with the truth- he'd given it a valiant effort. But he thinks that both he and Bill knew that it was only a matter of time.
He sneaks down at night- quietly so as not to disturb the others.
However, when he goes downstairs to confront Bill, he’s met with the same response.
“Play a game of chess with me. You don’t even have to beat me. I just want to play with you. Like old times.”
And with Bill’s screaming relentlessly ringing in his ears and in his head, Ford now sits in front of one of his old chess boards, contemplating.
He’d taken a short break from the screaming to chew at the ropes around his ankles. But it seems Ford was clever enough to use a special rope of his own creation- he must have created it as something he could potentially use against him for Weirdmageddon.
In fact, a quick look around the room showed that Ford had gotten rid of his tapestries, his statues- but everything Ford could think of to use against him remained. Bill's not sure if he should call that paranoia or sentimentality.
Not long into his chewing session, the door suddenly opens. Bill immediately perks up, straightening his bow tie, preparing to be met with Ford’s annoyed scowl.
“Well well well, Fordsy! Looks like you couldn’t resist me after all! I knew you’d come-”
“Will you SHUT UP ALREADY?!” a feminine voice shrieks.
Ah. Not Ford.
Mabel is exactly as he remembers- if not burdened with a bit more teenage angst. And maybe a bit taller.
“Oh, Shooting Star, it’s you! Hey- how’d you get down here anyway? I imagine Fordsy locked this place down tight.”
“I don’t owe you an explanation for anything I do. I just came down here to tell you to be quiet!”
Bill hisses at her, his forked tongue poking out from under his eye. “I’ve got nothing to say to you. I’ll only speak to Stanford and Stanford alone- hey!”
A spritz of ice cold water, right in his eye.
“Stop screaming or I’ll fill this thing with acid!” Mabel says in a voice that Bill couldn’t find threatening even if he tried.
“Ha! Just try it! You don’t have the guts!” Bill retorts as he rubs his eye. “You’re too soft to do anything but make empty threats. Here I am all vulnerable and none of you will take advantage of it!”
Mabel opens her mouth to argue, and for a second Bill wonders if she’ll really, actually do it. Between the kids, she’s always been the unpredictable one. But before she can say anything, a voice he knows all too well interrupts her.
“That’s because I refuse to sink to your level, Cipher.”
“Fordsy!” Bill shouts. He's almost relieved to see him. “So good to see you. Are you finally ready to talk?”
Mabel whirls around to look at him in an attempt to explain herself. “Grunkle Ford, I-”
“Mabel, you disobeyed my direct order and did something incredibly dangerous,” Ford says darkly.
“I’m sorry, I just- I just can’t take it anymore! I know you and Dipper never sleep and Grunkle Stan sleeps through everything but I’m not like that! I tried to ignore him but I couldn't get any sleep, so...”
“...I know,” Ford says gently as he walks over to his desk and opens one of the drawers. “So it’s a good thing I have these.”
He places the headphones around her neck. “Fiddleford made these for us to use during portal testing to protect our ears. They’re completely soundproof for most frequencies. I also have earplugs if you’d prefer those instead.”
Mabel smiles and sighs in relief. “Thank you! Thank you so much, these are perfect!”
“You’re welcome. Now why don’t you head upstairs? I’ll be up shortly, I promise. I don’t intend to waste any more time down here than I have to.”
Mabel looks reluctant, but nods slowly. “...Okay, just… be careful.”
Once she’s gone, Bill laughs boisterously. “I see you’re having trouble reigning those kids in, eh Fordsy?”
Ford is silent, which only eggs Bill on. He can't help it, really- definitely not when Ford's making that face. “Aww, what's wrong? Not in a chatty mood?”
“I have enough of these for everyone in the house, should they need them,” Ford says, gesturing to the headphones. “Fiddleford took safety during trials very seriously. He was the kind of person to make more than one back-up. Back then, I thought things like this were just a waste of space." He laughs bitterly. "So by all means, scream all you'd like. We'll live.”
Bill knows that this will ultimately come down to a battle of patience. How long can Ford keep this up until he snaps? It’s a game they’ve never stopped playing- besides their eternal cat-and-mouse dance. Ford’s never been the cat before, and Bill’s never been the mouse. It’s surprisingly exciting.
“Is it fun for you? Keeping me prisoner here?” Bill asks. “Because when I kept you prisoner, I was way nicer to you. I kept you in the penthouse of my Fearamid. And this is how you treat me once you finally have me? The basement?”
But Ford, interestingly enough, doesn't take the bait. Instead he grabs another pair of headphones and walks off, out of sight. “Goodnight, Bill.”
Every fiber of his being is screaming, and it takes all he has to bite it back and swallow it down. He won’t allow it to come out- not right now. He’ll allow Ford to take this small victory.
They may have swapped roles, but it’s still the same game, and Bill always plays to win.