Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bill was tired. A being of pure energy made into physical punchline. After 3,983 million years, he eventually gave up trying to escape, and yes, he counted every minute . Time didn’t move here of course, but it was the only thing Bill could do to keep the last bit of his already depleted sanity. Maybe in a couple hundred years, the workers at this drugged up facility will think he’s braindead enough to reincarnate. 

According to Bill’s messed up timeline, the Pines were long dead. Which made him sleep better at what he assumed was night. Even better, all of humanity was probably extinct due to their hubris. That made Bill extremely happy. The stupid little failed excuses of apes going wrong couldn’t even handle getting liberated! That thought was the only thing keeping Bill going in this mundane prison. He felt as if all this therapy was making him worse, he already lost the ability to care about any riots or chaos that happened. It's like he's been watered down to a childrens’ cartoon villain. 

There was a knock on his cell door. 

Maybe if he pretended to sleep, the intruder would leave him alone… They kept knocking until Bill gave up and opened the door.

“What?” He deadpanned, it was one of the therapists he was forced to see weekly. He rolled his eye. “Today wasn’t enough for you?” 

The therapist, Azure, folded their hands behind their back. “Fortunately, Mr. Cipher, it is not I who wishes to see you,” Azure sighed, “The Axolotl wants to speak.”

Bill stopped. Frills? Wanted to see him ? Why? Bill couldn’t figure out whether he was excited or… no, he was excited. Frills finally decided he was well-behaved enough to leave and he can go back to Weirdmageddon! 

“Well? Lead the way Bluey, I ain’t got all day!” his eye creased up in a smile. 

Azure and Bill made their way down the white pristine halls of the complex. Bill knew every nook and cranny of the facility so he was thoroughly surprised when Azure put his keypad against a wall and a door appeared. 

“That’s not concerning.” Bill laughed out, getting slightly worried when Azure didn’t make a noise. 

The room was dark. Actually, dark was an understatement. It was as if nothing existed in this room, not even stars. Despite being nothing, it was cold, and Bill decided immediately that he hated this “room”. 

Bill looked up at Azure and back in the void room. “I don’t have to go in there, right?” 

“Nope, This is your destination.” They went to leave, “Praise the Axolotl.”

Oh. Bill thought. He floated in, and the light from the open door closed behind him, leaving him in complete darkness. Bill hated this. When his eye finally adjusted, there He was. A giant translucent pink in the sea of black. Bill felt a calming sense come over him and took a deep breath. 

“Jeez, Guppy. Warn a triangle first!” he laughed joyfully, “So, reincarnation, how ‘bout it? I haven’t stabbed anyone in a week, I paid attention to art therapy, AND I thoroughly enjoyed Puppet Hour!” Bill exclaimed. He was being honest about Puppet Hour, nothing felt better than torturing the puppets he made to look like the Pines family. Same with art! 

The Axolotl, however, was not impressed. He could see through Bill easily and knew he wasn’t ready for reincarnation. 

“You have been here for 3 million years

And have not yet come to terms with your fears.

A new decision has been made,

A familiar face to be your aid.

Twelve months to fix what you’ve ruined

Then reincarnation shall be determined.

Fail this test, and be erased, 

Or heal your scars and enjoy embrace.”

Bill could hear the echo of voices in his head. What? What does He mean by that?

“What do you mean by that?” Bill asked in disbelief. “Just do the thing where you congratulate me and I live happily ever after! No need for another trial!” What the hell is up with this salamander??? He did everything right, just because he hated that stupid little human family that killed him in the first place, doesn’t mean he didn’t deserve to move on! Some things you can’t let go of, and the Pines filled him with such a rage that it was the only thing he looked forward to everyday. All the idiotic therapists at this prison told him to find a flame that kept him going, and now the Axolotl is telling him he was wrong for it? That is extremely unfair!  

“If this is about my justified hatred towards that family …” He trailed off. The Axolotl swam closer to him and Bill was taken over with a random feeling that he messed up. Yet, nothing happened. The Axolotl simply passed him, towards the non-existent door that slid open, Bill took this as a polite sign to get out and obliged. 

“So when is this new test?” Bill asked, not really caring if he got an answer or not. The creature looked at him, and Bill was filled with dread. “Really? Right now?” Bill watched as He nodded, and groaned loudly as he floated to the only light in the room. “Lemme get my stuff,” he shuffled off, and under his breath he added, “or the lack thereof…” 

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

Grabbing a couple papers he scribbled on weeks ago, his secret stabbing fork, and his journal he was gifted back again after he promised no more outbreaks. That was it. He had nothing else to take. Not that he ever needed things, material objects were weaknesses and Bill Cipher had no weaknesses, despite what this coocoo bin may say. Flying to the main office where Azure was writing something, probably his check out papers. 

“I’m surprised He let you out early.” Azure said without looking up. They continued scribbling, “So, I’m assuming you’re reincarnating?” 

Bill stared at them, “No…”

“What do you mean ‘no’?” They finally looked up with their beady pink eyes. “You only leave when you reincarnate or are getting…” They trailed off. Then, in a whisper, they started again, “You aren’t—”

“Also no.” Bill interrupted, that seemed to confuse Azure, so Bill continued. “Axy decided I was too good for this crappy place and is putting me somewhere I belong!” 

Azure raised their eyebrow and tilted their head, their frills moving like underwater. “So, Hell?” They laughed a little when Bill shot them a glare.

“ALSO NO! JEEZ!” Bill yelled out, he couldn’t wait to get out of here, although he might miss the back and forth he had with the therapist. Wait, no, obviously he wouldn’t miss this . He hated this stupid weird Axolotl clone, and wanted to smite them where they stood. How dare this creature insult him! Whatever, he was leaving anyway, he should probably act nice until then. “I don’t know where but it's definitely going to be better without you there.” Bill stuck out his weird eye-tongue to add extra insult, and was extremely offended when Azure only laughed at his antics. 

 “Well,” they calmed down, “wherever you go, I hope you're happy.” They smiled at Bill and he got the weird feeling of emptiness that he also hated. 

“Yeah, whatever.” Bill fixed his bowtie and slimed down the front of his jumpsuit until it was pressed against his front plane. Looking back up at Azure, he snatched the paper they were holding out. “See ya.” Azure gave a little wave and everything went black. 

Chapter Text

Pain was everywhere. When Bill woke up, he was in the middle of a forest clearing. He knew this place, it was the place where his statue used to be. He guessed it made sense the statue would leave if he was here. Wait, here? Why here? He shot up and felt heavy, then his head started pounding, then he found out he had five fingers. Staring at the digits dumbfoundedly, he slowly looked at himself, he had two legs that bent inwards, a torso that was too long, and more notably, a thin tail. Bill didn’t understand this thing was him until he needed to breathe. 

“What the Hell is this?” Bill hissed out. Looking around he saw his hat lying neatly on the ground, he snatched it and looked inside and sighed in relief when he saw the speck of dust floating safely. He put his hat on and was surprised it floated above his head. Why is this so weird? he thought, if his hat floated above him, and he definitely didn’t look like a human, then maybe…

Snap. Snap snap snap.  

Bill hated this. He hated how he felt. He hated how he looked. He hated this.  

He was powerless, which meant he was vulnerable. And he hated that too. His eyesight was also garbage, he couldn’t even see uncharged argon, and that was a great color! Whatever, it was just a setback, a major one, but a setback. Bill stood up and immediately toppled over. R ight, gravity. That exists now. Stupid laws of physics and such. He tried again and thought about just crawling to civilization. Maybe he could look for that cult he made in the 50s? No, that would be too annoying to hunt down, he could probably just live here in the woods, actually that was an even worse idea, he couldn’t even stand! Sitting on the dead grass, he thought about what to do. 

“Standing shouldn’t be this hard, Earth gravity is the worst!” Bill complained out loud. In a very mature outburst, he threw himself back and kicked his legs like an angry child, he eventually gave up and just laid there. He absolutely, utterly despised this. He was going to lie here until his stupid body rotted and the stupid animals ate his stupid remains, that would show the salamander. 

After 5 minutes he was bored and went back to trying to stand. His stupid backwards legs were all bruised and scraped, but Bill Cipher was not a quitter, he’d rather spend a day with the Pines family then give up on something, even if it was as mundane as trying to walk. 

When he finally got the balance and walked a couple steps, the sun was setting. I really spent all day trying to do something human offspring can do, I really let myself go… Bill stretched and looked around. He couldn’t go into town unless he wanted to be chased out for looking like a creature wearing someone’s skin. Bill looked up, “Wow Frills, don’t know what humans look like?” he said, mostly to himself. He looked around and thought about his options. 

1. He could just stay in the woods, but some gnome might eat his hair so that was out.
2. Work in the town until he had enough money to leave, but his flesh puppet was offensive to the humans’ weak eyes.
3. Find his old cult that he totally didn’t forget about, wait, he had a cult? 

This wasn’t helping…

Bill only had one other place, and he hated it. Was he really that desperate for a roof over his head and food and warmth and– no. They wouldn’t take him in and he didn’t want them to, and besides, they were supposed to be dead! Bill Cipher was not a pathetic loser who lived with a buncha nobodies, then again, the Pines family killed him …

They didn’t need to know it was him. Bill would go under a disguise, so genius it would break their minds when he revealed Weirdmageddon (the finale version). Bill was literally at his wits end, either die alone in the woods or get killed by the Pines, again. And he decided the woods were the better, he was just walking in a non-specific direction, it didn’t mean anything why he ended up on the front lawn of the Mystery Shack. Nor did it mean anything why he was on the porch— why was his pulsing meat bag pulsing more— Whatever, just knock on the stupid door, Bill. He raised his hand to do the thing, but stopped mid air and froze. Why? Just knock. Realistically, he was completely in the right to be acting like this. What was he even going to say? Hi, I’m Bill Cipher, the triangle guy who tried murdering you guys years ago! I just out of indefinite therapy, can I stay with you for the next year? Bill hated the fact that was his best “apology”. He needed to stop overthinking. 

Knock knock knock. “Here goes nothing,” He muttered. He heard a guy’s voice yell something intangible and the muffled banging of feet hitting the rickety floors he told Stanford to fix a lifetime ago. Bill was pulled out of his thoughts when a young man with shabby brown hair and noticeable stubble opened the door. 

He looked Bill up and down. “Uh, hello?” 

“This is the Mystery Shack, yes?” Bill didn’t wait for an answer, nor a welcome in, as he pushed his way past the man. “Where are they? They’re only here during the summer.” He finally turned to face the guy, who looked as if he was going to shout for help. 

“Who are—”

“Those little bast— I mean, those wonderful twins! They owe me something, so.” Bill looked at him with a big smile, noticing the random ass guy flinch at the mention of the Pines. 

He looked around nervously. “What?” Holy axolotl, does this kid only speak in the 5 Ws? Bill rolled his eye. 

“Look kid, just tell me where the damn Pines kids are and I’ll leave. Simple. Not that hard to grasp.” Gods, why was he being so difficult? All he wanted was to give those stupid kids what they deserve, what that was? Bill didn’t know yet, but he was going to eventually find out! “Uhm, Earth to eyebags?” 

The man was pale. Like, paler than pale. He wasn’t even breathing, and for some reason Bill finally connected the dots. For some reason, for the entire 3 million years, all his revenge daydreams had the Pines stay the exact same age since that summer. Man, humans have short lives! This very strangleable man was obviously Pinetree, there's one at least 

“Well well wellllllll. Long time no see, Pinetree!” He smiled.

Chapter Text

“MABELHOLYSHITHESBACKGOGETSTANANDFORD” 

The house erupted into chaos. Bill proudly took a seat at the dining table in the living room and tried to make out the screaming and yelling coming from the kitchen. Everyone agreed to just killing him… Again . That was unfortunate to Bill, he needed to tell them he was completely harmless! Although, the ways they came up with to exterminate him did sound exciting, he couldn’t be killed by this family. Again .  

“Why can’t we just feed him to the wildlife? They need food!” a high pitched nasally voice asked, definitely Shooting Star. 

“Pumpkin, he’s probably poisonous to the environment.” commented a low gravelly voice. Bill was kind of surprised that Fez lasted this long. 

“Since when have you cared for the environment, Grunkle Stan?” Pinetree asked sarcastically, to which Fez gasped dramatically. “Does anyone know why he’s here ?” he added. 

“Therapy.” Bill yelled out, silence followed by whisperers discussing the next course of action. Bill got up from his seat and walked into the kitchen and slammed his check-out papers in front of Sixer, who hasn’t said anything since Pinetree started screeching. Everyone fell silent as Ford read the crumpled paper and sighed when he finished skimming through. 

“So, you went to therapy and failed somehow?” He looked up. 

“What— NO! I need to stay here until I get better!” Bill said. He was slowly starting to regret coming here. “So, I’d say about 12 months,” that's what Frills said, right? “It shouldn’t be that hard to understand that ‘me power gone equal safe.’”  He stared at the family, who stared back in equal confusion and hatred. 

“No.” Ford muttered. “You do not get to hurt us and then come back 13 years later expecting us to forgive you.” He glared at Bill, yeesh, this guy needed a chill pill. “I don’t care what interdimensional therapist calls you a safe member of society you are not—”

“Grunkle Ford, may I put my two cents in?” Shooting Star interrupted, not waiting for an answer, she pulled out two pennies and dropped them on the table. “As we all know, Bill Cipher is a horrible being of mass destruction and has no room for empathy nor change,” she started, nods of agreement coming from her family, “buuuttt, that’s triangle him, this guy is human-ish so maybe—”

“Mabel, we are NOT letting him live here!”

“But Dipper, look at him! He’s comparable to a pathetic, sad, wet cat, would you leave Gideon outside if he was homeless?” 

“I’m not gonna answer that.” Pinetree brought the subject back, “Even if he brainwashed you, the rest of us say ‘Hell. No.’” 

This was worse than he thought. The only person sticking up for him was already insulting him, and no one was adding anything else to the conversation. Dammit Bill, think for once! What could he say to the Pines, mainly Ford, to not murder him? He didn’t want to agree with Star, maybe death was the better option? 

“I think Star is right, I mean, how pathetic and moist can I get?” He grinned at Mabel, who looked away as soon as their eyes met. Slightly offended, Bill continued, “Honestly, I thought you guys were supposed to be better than me, and now you’re trying to kill me again.” He rolled his eye dramatically and that seemed to work as the family awkwardly looked at each other; their glances said something Bill couldn’t decipher and when he was about to ask, Dipper started.

“Give us all a sincere apology.” He smirked. Seriously? “You stay here as long as you want if you do!” Mabel chimed in. Really? That easy? Both of the older Pines choked on their air and looked at the younger twins. 

“What.”

“Excuse me?”

Mabel smiled, “We can all apologize to each other! I’ll start!” She turned to Bill, “Mr. Cipher, I’m really, really, really sorry for killing you.” The thing that made Bill confused was the fact Star was genuine ? Pinetree also looked confused, he grabbed Star’s arm and walked to the farthest wall. Bill ignored the children's (?) whispered fight and turned to the older men.

Ford just stared at him while Stan started yapping about how he owes no one an apology (except Ford) and Bill drowned mostly all of it. Why was Sixer looking at him like that? For some reason, Bill actually hated this as well. It made Ford seem like he was in charge, like the roles were reversed. That’s not why you hate this. Shut up. Bill was the first to turn away from the unspoken staring contest and focused his attention to what the younger twins were doing. Star was poking Pinetree’s ribs and he was poking her back in the face, both of them were giggling and it was honestly disgusting . Bill made a face at the kids (??) and sat down on a chair that previously belonged to Pinetree, putting his head down and cradling his arms around it. The cold wood felt nice on his headache he was failing to ignore and Stan’s voice was only making it worse, he shifted his arms around so it muffled the sound around him and was startled when Ford grabbed his arm and took him outside. 

“Are you gonna put me down, Fordsy?” Bill snickered, to his lack of amusement, Ford kept his stoic face and pressed on. “Where are we going?”

Ford stopped and swung Bill in front of him. “You’re going to tell me why you’re actually here,” he looked at the house, “and why I shouldn't just shoot you right now.” 

Bill took a long dramatic gasp, “Therapy.” Ford stared at him. “Look, I know you want a long and complicated answer, but there isn’t any. I was in therapy and the Great Almighty Axolotl decided I needed to get some community hours in. I’ll only be here for a year.” That seemed to work as Ford turned back to the house and towards the forest in thought. He settled on something and looked back to the non-human.

“And you’re completely powerless?”

“If I had my amazing endless powers I wouldn’t be here, Brainiac .” 

“And you swear you aren’t going to harm us?”

“Physically at least,” Ford raised an eyebrow and Bill continued, “NOR mentally, nor emotionally, nor…” Bill struggled to come up with another word, gave up and smiled widely at Ford. 

“Hmm. Well, your therapy papers do mention that you’ve ‘failed every activity’ and ‘need a different approach.’ care to explain that?” He looked at Bill, raising an eyebrow at the demon.  

Bill thought for a minute and shrugged. “They gave up on me.” he said blankly, not making any expression. He had no reason to lie, why dig a grave for himself? He did not need a second act low point due to lying to Stanford. The kids and co maybe, but not Stanford, not again . Wait, what? He looked at the scientist, taking in all the details of the man’s face. The tired eyes, the right one permanently bloodshot, the scars covering him until they disappeared under the turtleneck. Glancing at Ford’s hands he noticed the giant scar in the middle of his left palm, each six finger had a graveyard of deep cuts that haven’t healed after 43 years, and some of the fingers were crooked from when they were broken. Looking back up, Ford wasn’t angry Bill was back. He was tired. He lost that spark he had 43 years prior. And it was all Bill’s fault. He should’ve been proud of what he’s done to his ex lab-partner. But he wasn’t, he felt wrong . To be honest, Bill always felt this way towards what he did to Stanford, but he knew how to ignore and deny the guilt back then. Now? Now, Bill can say he regrets what happened. And that he, Bill Cipher, was the worst scum across all multiverses. Man, what did that prison do to me? His lips pulled up slightly at the thought. Well, if I’m losing it, I might as well get something out of it. He looked at Stanford sincerely. 

“I’m sorry.”

__________________________________________________________________

Bill looked at the family once more. Everyone was yelling and the fighting was amusing to him. Apparently when everyone wanted Stanford’s opinion, they didn’t mean his opinion of letting Bill live with them. The night was colder than Bill expected, so he was genuinely grateful that Ford was merciful enough to let him be inside the shack. He didn’t apologize to the kids, nor was he ever going to, and Stanley didn’t deserve a lick of his attention; Ford was the only person that needed an apology whether he meant the apology or not-

“Why does he have to be in here , though?”

“Dipper, I told you, it’s inhuman. It’s at least 50 out there.”

Mabel looked up, “But he’d do the same to us.” 

Traitor . Bill was on the couch, listening in to the conversation in the kitchen, Wait, haven’t I done this before? He looked towards the door. The warm light pooled into his cold corner of the house, he pulled his legs to his torso and drowned the people out. Sure it was funny at first, but now it was tiring to hear everyone scream over each other on ways to kill him. He couldn't slink away because that would mean he’s scared of the Pines actually killing him, his heart was pounding simply because it was one of the days ever! It’s not like Ford would kill Bill again, Sixer was obviously still obsessed with him, whatever helps you sleep tonight. Stupid inner monologue, contradicting what he says… 

Ford seemingly appeared out of nowhere, which startled the hell out of Bill. 

“Yes, Fordsy?” he forced a grin, Ford however, did not return the favor. Stoic as ever, he motioned Bill to follow him. Begrudgingly, he got up and slowly followed Ford down a hallway. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Bill decided he needed to be annoying again. “So, are you gonna bury me in the floorboards?” 

Ford shook his head and stopped in front of a door. “This,” he opened it and Bill could swear a dusty imprint of the door stayed there for a second, “is where you’ll be staying for the time-being. Unfortunately, your ‘therapist’ has forbidden us to keep you in a cage.” 

Bill looked at the room. It was roomy enough, bigger than the claustrophobic cell he was so generously gifted by the Theraprism. One corner had a rundown twin-sized mattress and the corner parallel to had a tall dresser. An old blue blanket that didn’t even cover the whole bed and a matching rug on the floor. The space obviously hadn’t been used in a long while. A dead plant stood in the windowsill and Bill could swear he saw a spider in the dry branches. 

“Do you have more secret rooms, or…” he trailed off. 

Stanford only glared at him. “Might want to get some sleep tonight, tomorrow we’re going over some ground rules.”

“Yes ma’am!” Bill did a fake salute and slammed the door shut. He could hear Ford mutter a curse and stomp away. 

Bill needed a plan. Absolute erasure was existentially terrifying. And he only had a year to find out what was wrong with himself and fix it. Maybe Ford had something that could give him his powers back? But then he'd have to lie to Ford… That was it. He needed to hurry this apologetic act if Weirdmageddon was to start by next year. Honestly, Ford did this to himself, with his insistent need to be the hero of the story. Well, Stanford, heroes still die in Bill’s world; maybe Bill will torture Ford less this time, he did give Bill a place to sleep. He came up with a rough plan, he would apologize to the family and gain their unbreakable trust. Then he would gaslight Ford into giving his powers back, somehow. If he could knock these two out in two months, he’d be back in the Fearamid in no time! 

Bill sat on the bed and felt himself sink in as a cloud of dust, and probably spores, clouded around him. Maybe he could get Question Mark to clean it after a half-assed sorry. He took the tattered blanket and laid down on the mildew smelling pillow. 

“Thanks, Axy” he mumbled sarcastically and passed out.