Wayfarer [Bill Cipher x Reader] [REVISED]

Chapter Thirty-Six: To Be Alone

"Real disappointing, the lack of carnivores in there, huh?"

The sun shone soft and easy as you stepped out of a low red building and into a grassy courtyard, a smile on your face. It was the day after the ice cream incident, and although you hadn't quite worked up the nerve to try that whole thing again, that didn't mean that you weren't up for a nice bit of banter. "Oh, come on, don't be like that!" you said. "What's wrong with the plant-eaters, huh?"

"They're boring, that's what," Bill replied. "I mean, Maiasaura? Doesn't exactly inspire awe. Can't believe they picked that as the state fossil over the T-Rex," he muttered. "So dull!"

"If your only criteria is having sharp teeth, yes," you shot back. "T-Rex is overrated, anyways. Everybody already knows about it. It's nice for them to go with something more original, don't you think? I think that they—hey, what's that?"

Your eyes caught on two large, corrugated metal cylinders on wheels a short distance away. Covered with rusted grates on each end and hooked up to trailer hitches, each one could easily hold a few people inside without too much of a space issue. What on earth would someone make this sort of thing for? You wandered over to the large sign in front of them, Bill trailing behind you.

"Bear traps," you read out aloud. "In the late 1800s and early 1900s, gold mining and ranching brought scores of new settlers to Montana. With the increase in the human population came a rise in human-animal conflict, particularly with large predators such as bears and wolves, which were known to steal livestock and occasionally take human lives. Thus, trapping them became a priority for many ranchers. The use of large live traps, such as these ones made by the Fullhouser Company in 1921, became common in some areas."

"Once the animals were properly trapped, their fate was often to be promptly killed by the trap's operators or to be sold to circuses or zoos for entertainment. Today, similar traps remain in use for the humane restraint of unwanted animals by animal control officers or game wardens."

You paused and looked at the traps, pressing your lips together. "Well," you said. "That certainly explains why they look like that, then."

"Really? They look awful fragile to be trapping bears," Bill remarked. He took off his sunglasses and leaned in for a better look. "Just a buncha sheet metal, really. Couldn't be that hard to tip over and break out of."

"Hey, they're probably sturdier than you think. I mean, the way the wheels are planted on the ground, you'd have to shake that thing pretty hard to get it to tip over. Do you really think you could get that thing to fall?"

He shrugged. "Not fall, maybe. But I got opposable thumbs and lockpicking skills. Wouldn't be too hard for me to get out of there."

"Yeah, well, you'd be on the inside. Can you really pick the lock from there?"

"Of course! Done it plenty of—" His face contorted and he coughed. "I mean, I've done it from the outside a couple of times. Couldn't be much harder from the other side, could it?" He glanced away. "Anyways, you wanna get some ice cream now? Getting awful hot out here..." He wiped his forehead.

You looked in the direction of his gaze and spotted a cheerful red and white building with a long line in front of it, a large "Open" flag fluttering in the breeze. Your body began to whine for something cool. "Sure," you found yourself saying. "Let's go."

He grinned at you as the two of you made your way to the back of the line in question. You came to a stop behind an elderly couple and paused, looking forward.

As you watched the older couple, who seemed to be fused at the hands and were chatting animatedly, a slight tingle passed over your hand. You looked down and found Bill pulling his hand away. "My bad," he said. "Shouldn'ta assumed—"