Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ever wondered what it’s like to be shattered into millions of pieces? Great, here’s the rundown! It’s like every tiny meaningless molecule that constitutes you is being excruciatingly separated from your body. It’s like being melted into slime and put through a cheese grater and then eating those giblets to keep your form together. That only works until your mouth stops functioning as a mouth and your eye becomes your arms, and your legs peace out of existence. You’re no longer anything solid, struggling to make sense of what’s going on through the blinding pain. Your consciousness spreads in the air and slowly withers the farther each molecule gets from another. “You” is not a word that describes your consciousness anymore as you’re split into a million minds shouting over another, unable to construct a single thought. Reduced to simple prey-like emotions of panic and fear from being defeated when the possibility of dying was .0001% in every timeline. “You” only applies to those singular minds with control over consciousness and a single identity. Bill Cipher is no longer a “you.” Bill Cipher dies, agonizingly ripped apart from the inside out, splitting into infinite shards scattered through the air.

One could say it’s comedically ironic in a “serves you right” kind-of-way as Bill Cipher dies surrounded by blue flames like the ones he summons in his very own hands, and with a single left hook to the eye from his ex-devotee--the only human he had respected and enjoyed intellectual conversation with--’s twin brother. It’s ironic that the deal maker dies from his own deal, tricked by a switch of look-alikes so easily discernable from a single glance at the hands he shakes. Bill Cipher dies from his own ignorance and lust for power. An ending unfairly merciful for such a betraying bastard triangle.

Wasn’t it fun having all that power? That satisfying success in securing a stable dimension to alter to your liking. Everything you’ve ever wanted, at the snap of your fingers. Those who betrayed you down on their knees pleading for mercy. A party that never ended and entertainment that never ran out. A happy ending to a miserable life, slipping in and out physical bodies, grasping for something solid to anchor to. A physical form of nightmare incarnated, previously existing only in thoughts, dreams, and ideas. How satisfying it was to be real. Whole. Powerful.

Years of planning, waiting, and failed deals lead to the one shake of a hand that gave Bill Cipher a physical form and reign over the entire world. Finally, he was given the lock and key to creating a world he could call his own. A place he belonged by right and enforced with chaos, petrification, and nightmares. He could rule with his freaks of friends by his side, partying and drinking off into the metaphorical sunset. A world where freaks and outcasts were in charge, accepted, and celebrated for uniqueness. So cruel was it that this dream had to end, right as it was getting’ good. The carpet was yanked right out from under him so to speak, with everything he’d built falling apart before his eyes. This captain won’t go down with his ship, however. Sooner or later, he’d be back. Ideas don’t die, good or bad.

Bill Cipher never regrets

Bill Cipher never loses

Bill Cipher never makes mistakes

Bill Cipher has no idea what is going on right now.

One moment he was begging for his life in front of Stanley Pines, something so revolting and embarrassing he inwardly cringed remembering it, and the next he was coming out of a blackout with a nasty headache, sinking in a glittering pink mass of space. Yes, mass. It was like he was a fly in a web, struggling in a thick viscous liquid type atmosphere that suffocated him, surrounding him entirely. Struggling made him realize something. He felt weirdly longer. And he had an impending sense of dread in the back of his mind that he couldn’t shake despite urging it away with his powers. His powers…?? He no longer felt the steady course of electricity flowing through his limbs. His vision was messed up too, blurry and hard to focus on anything, not that he had anything to focus on in this weird pink void of… flesh? Amoeba goo? Yeah, that’s more like it. He felt like he was inside a single-celled organism, being processed by the mitochondria into energy. The scariest part of the analogy was that he wasn’t entirely sure it was wrong. He felt weak and squishy, like when he would get sick as a kid and his bricks would become soft and squishy like a sandcastle and leak various sticky substances. Gross.

Bill grabbed hold of his sides—expecting two-dimensional hard edges and instead finding himself holding something more cylindrical and plumper, like a sack of wet flour, containing ugh- gravity, disgustingly three dimensional. He looked down in horror. The sight made him want to throw up.

His beautiful inky black arms and legs were now tan colored skin stretched over nimble bones, barely visible but thin enough to horrifically be aware of the skin suit placed over a frame. He tried to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, but it came out as a breathy gasp. Bill was overwhelmed with a panic he hadn’t felt since [REDACTED], visibly shaking and pulling on his skin, feeling the acid actively brewing in his stomach, and the spidering veins visible when he flecked his muscles. He had skinned people alive before! He had rearranged their organs without a blink of an eye! Why was this affecting him so much? If anything, he should be having the time of his life right now. But this was nothing like inhabiting a body. He couldn’t escape, didn’t feel that detached feeling when breaking human’s bones, and lighting himself on fire. He felt an invisible timer that ticked down every second he breathed, each beat of his heart, and every tremor of his muscles. The extinctual thought of decaying made him want to rip off his skin and be shot out of this body at the speed of light. But he couldn’t. No matter how hard he willed himself to detach from the solid form, reaching into the mindscape, he opened his eyes to a naked human body, weak, and afraid. When he inhabited a body, he was still immortal, even if his host died or was tortured. He didn’t feel that safety net of eternal life right now, he realized, pupils shrinking and breaths coming in shorter and faster. His thoughts became too much, too loud, the torture of existence for the first time registering completely in his mind, and Bill succumbed to the wave of black spots in his vision, losing consciousness once more.

He was getting tired of waking up in barbie life in the meat-house void trapped in a stick of invisible butter. The first thing that ran through Bill’s mind when he woke up was ‘Man, this blows.’ The second thing was something along the lines of ‘Axolotl, strike me down or burn the human species,’ as he looked at his new form again with disdain. He was lanky, freckled, and had fur in several places. He smoothed his arm hair and grimaced, uncomfortable with the texture of skin on skin, and placed his limbs as far away from himself as he could, assuming starfish position.

Faint hushed conversation with no discernable source slowly entered Bill’s range of hearing.

A lime green gazelle Muppet-like creature with a wild dark green mess of hair on the top of its head (it didn’t have a face, so Bill assumed that was its head) and the Axolotl in all its glory approached him. It seemed they were having a disagreement with another. Axolotl adjusted their glasses and lab coat in front of Bill before addressing him.

“?uoy gnitaert mrof namuh ruoy si woH”

‘How is your human form treating you?’

Bill clenched his fists in rage, heat rapidly flowing to his face. How dare they reduce him to something so insignificant, take away his powers, and make him so weak? The form in itself was an insult to everything Bill was or would be. Looking down at his stripped form and back at the permanent smile on Ax’s face, he realized that was the point of all this. He should have guessed Ax would hold a grudge. He resisted punching him. “Peachy.” He spat with all the venom he could muster.

Ax summoned a sandwich and took a bite, watching him struggle in the air around invisible restraints.

“Uh huh,” they said unconvinced. The green thing looked up at the Axolotl and back to Bill, tapping its fuzzy leg anxiously. Ax finished his sandwich.

“Right.” The Axolotl clapped, all business mode now, and released Bill from his restraints, resulting in a graceless fall to the non-existent floor and a pitiful attempt to stand --- like a newborn lamb from Bill which neither of the entities helped him with. Bill grabbed the furry creature, who yelped in protest, and used it like a handrail, pulling himself up with inexperienced muscles. The previous triangle spat hair out of his mouth as he looked up at the Axolotl in defiance.

“Please let go of my assistant. It just got back from dry cleaning.” Ax said.

“First, give me my powers back, you waterboarded mole rat!” Bill fumed, legs shaking under him threatening his collapse. The lime gazelle struggled, looking desperately at the Axolotl for help who shrugged.

“I’m afraid I can’t. You lost them when you called my name at death.”

Bill laughed. “Lost them? Come on Ax, you’re not fooling anyone. You absolutely took them, you selfish bastard. I need them back to get out of this human meat puppet you stuck me into, also very funny by the way. Ha-ha jokes on Bill! Everyone point and laugh at Bill in the stupid human fursuit, right?” His eyes narrowed. “Also, what do you mean ‘at my death?’ I’m right here in front of you, very much alive.”

“Your powers are not mine to give. They died as you did.”

“That…. Answered absolutely nothing.” Bill resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The edge set in as he realized he was stuck like this unless he could bamboozle the Ax into either altering his form or giving his power back. He laughed nervously, perspiration beginning to form on the back of his neck. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly feeling dry.

The Axolotl grew in size, glittering tail swishing. Their voice rang out in the pink void as their form shimmered with divine power, like a constellation, with thousands of stars, and galaxies being formed at once.

“I am the Axolotl, regeneration and rehabilitation are my moral code of obligation. You spoke my name in desperation at the death of Euclidia’s last Euclidian.” Their eyes trained on Bill’s human form, glowing white, and held the same emotionless face. "I am in firm belief that development of character requires new beginnings. You do not understand humility, empathy, selflessness, honesty, and mindfulness, nor the reasons why anyone would have such qualities. Your ignorance and greed led to your demise and your lack of trust in anyone caused you to hurt those you told yourself you never cared about. You desire to be loved but not understood, praised and powerful, exalted and in control. I’m granting you a clean slate and a new life. I’m curious to see who Bill Cipher is without his power. Who are you at your core? Before the monster and the destruction and the hurt. Is pain and avoidance something you take pride in? I want you to take a good look inwardly without your shape, top hat, or vast power obstructing your view, and reflect. Who are you? And more importantly, who do you wish you could be?”

Bill yawned. “Nice speech. Heard it all before. ‘Oh Bill, how can you live with yourself!’ ‘Bill, you disgust me!’ ‘Bill, you traitorous psychopath, please don’t kill my family!’ Yeah, yeah, yeah.” His face twisted into something manic, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I know exactly what I am. And I like who I am! I get up in the morning giddy at the thought of hearing mothers cry as I eat their newborn infants, I get a rush of adrenaline when I reward followers with body horror. And yeah! I think the smell of human blood is appetizing! So what?! My life is chalk full of happiness and fulfillment, thank you very much! Sometimes a villain is just a villain! I don’t need a sappy backstory to help people understand why I am the way I am. Hey, here’s an idea! I just am what I am! I’m a sick perverted individual who thinks about ruining people’s lives to benefit myself. That’s just business, baby! You snowflake high and mighty types need to get your noses back in the sky where they belong and quit sniffing in alleyways of moral depravity you think you need to ‘fix’ to satisfy your stupid hero complex. Get over yourself. You’re not better than me. We all know you’d steal from innocent lollipop holding kids in strollers if they looked at you funny and not give a rat’s ass about it. Moral dilemmas don’t work on gods that can snap people out of the way of an oncoming trolley.”

Axolotl silently swished its tail, contemplating. Bill huffed and stood fully, albeit unsteady.

The green entity spoke up in a soft soothing voice, nervously. “Doctor, he doesn’t even want to be healed. You can’t force him to be something he’s not.” Like attached to strings, its head swung around to face human Bill. “If he wants to be broken into a billion shards, I say let him. There are entities that actually need and want our service whether it’s recommended by family, friends, or a conscious decision from the patient. No one will vouch for him. I looked at his memories. There is no ounce of good in him. No one cares about him either. I’d say his death is overdue.” The gazelle looked at Bill in what may have been described as disappointment but as it was faceless, he couldn’t be sure. The audacity of this thing was getting under his skin. “You’re done. Your servants for friends are relieved you’re gone, already conquering planets for themselves. You’ve lost.”

Bill grit his teeth. He drew back his leg, ready to kick this fuzzy idiot into tomorrow but was immediately immobilized. The Axolotl held him up to his face with… No. No. No NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT. There plain on Ax’s smooth pink face was unfiltered sympathy and sorrow. For him, the universe’s most feared and powerful chaos overlord. The whole display just made Bill angrier, and he struggled harder in Ax’s fist. The Axolotl squeezed him, and Bill was suddenly made aware of how easy it would be to juice him like an orange as he felt his ribs strain under the pressure. He was about to black out again, he was sure of it, but as soon as the thought crossed his mind, the pressure let up and he welcomed the fresh flow of air back into his lungs greedily, coughing and wheezing. Maybe that was the point of trapping him in something so fragile… The fear of breaking was stronger, reinforced by the animalistic instinct to survive. He slumped against Ax’s hand, breathing heavily, exhausted, the fight draining out of him.

It wasn’t true, was it? That his friends were happier without him? Bill didn’t like the feeling seeping into him. He couldn’t will away the discomfort either. He told himself he didn’t care repeatedly. It didn’t matter. He didn’t need them. Memories flooded his mind of confiding in Pyronica, dunking Teeth in ice, and watching 8 Ball bowl using smoldering human skulls. The good times. He shut his eyes in annoyance. Of course, this human body would think of that right now. He never wanted to exterminate the human species more than he did at that moment. He choked, his throat tightening from emotion, and defeat. He wanted to go home. He wanted to be in his mother’s arms again. He really wanted to stop feeling human emotions at the highest setting. His head drooped and refused to lift again. Even as the Axolotl spoke again, Bill refused to look up, humiliated and unable to wipe the warm tears off his face.

“I am duty-bound to follow through once my name is spoken. However, Figstol is correct to question the moral complications of our deal. So, I will give you a choice, Bill Cipher. You can be instituted to my Theraprism, focusing on improving yourself with the reward of reincarnation and new life, or you can return to the fate you avoided by invoking my name, shattered as the universe intended your story to end.”

Bill let out a heartbreaking sob. What kind of choice was that? Theraprism was a life sentence for someone like him. There wasn’t even the slimmest chance of him being released. He could imagine it now—wasting away in a cell, writing moral mantras on the walls like it was the only thing giving him hope, living the rest of his existence in flesh and blood, endlessly chasing a goal that wouldn’t happen, that he didn’t even want to happen. Dying seemed like the easier choice. It would be peaceful, and he wouldn’t have to think about facing his flaws. But he couldn’t imagine actually going through with it. Being dead? Not existing? It terrified him more than anything. If he was in the Theraprism he would barely be living, but there was a chance, even if it was asymptotic, that he would make it out and live again. It was an impossible choice and the weight of it gnawed at his insides. Life and Death. Struggle and Acceptance. Failure and Avoidance. Impossible and Possible.

They sat like that, in the silence of the pink void, with nothing but the loud turmoil of Bill’s mind, for who knows how long. It could have been hours, minutes, or an entire lifetime (or potentially the end of one). Desperately, Bill held on to his temporary decision: not deciding, which again, was avoidant and didn’t do anything but delay his demise. He thought smartly, he was somewhat alive here in this zone outside of time, so if he never chose, or delayed choosing death, he was living for longer and therefore beating the system. And so, they stayed like that for a while, Axolotl’s patience never ending, his unblinking face focused on Bill. Bill wondered if the newt could read his thoughts or predict the future. He wondered if Ax already knew what his decision would be.

As is the patience of an overlord whose whole being is chaos, Bill ran out, to no one’s surprise. Wearily he looked up at Ax and asked, “Can I change my answer after?” The Axolotl tilted their head like a dog.

“If you choose death, you mean?” They asked.

Bill laughed under his breath. “No.” He clarified. “If I choose the Theraprism, can I choose death if I can’t…” His eyes drifted away from Ax, un-focusing slightly. “If I can’t uh...”

Dark pink frills swayed on each side of the Axolotl’s celestial head as he nodded. “If that is what you want.” They smiled kindly. “But my employees won’t let a patient go if they can help it.”

Bill resigned. He scoffed as he met the Axolotl’s ever calm, ever present gaze.

Bill glanced away before muttering, "I'm going to eat your employees.”

The void seemed to blur and morph into white walls, and tiles as the Axolotl delivered them to the institution.