Wayfarer [Bill Cipher x Reader] [REVISED]

Chapter Thirty-Four: Alone Together

"Make a U-turn up ahead—Make a U-turn up ahead—Make a U-turn up ahead—Make a—"

The GPS squawked like a broken record as you sped down the still-slick streets, dodging in and out of whatever roads presented themselves. You threw glances behind you, expecting every moment to see a flash of bright red. Your heart lodged in your throat. OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod—

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey," Bill protested as you careened onto yet another gravel road. "Ease up, will you? There's no way that guy's following us. His vehicle's broken, remember? He can't catch up to a speeding car."

"Well, maybe he was lying about that," you blurted out. "Like he was about the phone. Maybe he had a vehicle stashed somewhere. Maybe he's following us as we speak, and we just don't know it." You clenched your teeth. "Now, make sure no one's following us, and shut up!"

Bill's face fell. Then, without a word, he turned towards the back and did as you said.

Darkness had fallen by the time you finally pulled into a Super 8 in Helena, heart still pumping. You glanced around, scanning for a flash of bright red. Then, you grabbed your bags and sprinted into the lobby.

You must've set a personal record for the fastest check-in you'd ever done, because before your mind could catch up, the desk clerk was handing you a room key. "Room 144 is up the stairs and to the left," the clerk said, pointing in that direction. "I, uh, hope you have a good night."

"Thanks!"

You snatched the key and grabbed Bill. Running up to the room, you fumbled with the key card a few times before you unlocked the door.

Then, you rushed Bill and your things inside and slammed the door, locking it. You ran over to the other side of the room, peering through the windows. You locked them and pulled the curtains over them.

You moved onto the bathroom, checking for windows. There were none. You sighed. Good. You scrutinized the bathroom door handle, which had a lock that locked from the inside. Again, good. With that, you ran and grabbed the desk chair and shoved it up under the room door's handle at an angle.

Bill grabbed your arm. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, there!" he muttered, backing you away from the door. "It's not that bad. Relax, will you?" He guided you over to the bed.

"It's not that bad?" you snapped. "Dude, that guy tried to break into our car and slash the tires just now. We were in danger!"

"Yeah, we were. But that guy," he said, gesturing in the direction of the highway, "is miles and miles away. I checked, and no one followed us on the way back. It'd be impossible, anyways," he added, "the way you were driving. He ain't lurking outside in the bushes or whatever. Lay off of it, okay?"

"Maybe he tracked us, though," you said. "Maybe he—he saw our license plate, and he managed to follow us. He could've known that we were looking back, and maybe he stayed just out of sight, and—"

Bill laid his hands on your shoulders. "(Y/N)," he said. "Calm down. Breathe. Look at me, okay?"

You let out a long, shuddering breath. Then, you lifted your head up to meet his gaze. His eyes shimmered like a lake on a calm, sunny day, and you found yourself caught on that slightest of motions. "I'm looking."

He cleared his throat. "Repeat after me. You are safe."

"I am safe."

"That guy can't hurt you."

"That guy can't hurt me."

"Freaking out is not the solution."

"Freaking out..." You exhaled. "is not the solution."