New Beginnings // BillFord

6: Human Weakness

"Say, Fordsy, why don't you sleep up in your bedroom anymore?" Bill asked, sitting on his trundle watching Stanford adjust his trench coat. Phew, those muscles. He should be scrawny, as a geeky, shut-in scientist, but against all odds, he was not.
"After Mabel accidentally crushed the size flashlight, my uh, bedroom got demolished by a ginormous Waddles." He mimicked an explosion with his hands for emphasis. "I'm stuck down here until I can find a proper, non dimension-ripping particle reverser."
"Have the gopher rebuild it." Bill aimlessly suggested, watching a cockroach crawl up his arm in glee.
"I would but, well, I really liked my couch. It was too comfortable to become a sacrifice to a giant pig." He placed his hand on his chest, looking up into heaven as if his lost couch would hear him.
"If I still had my powers, I'd fix it up for you! Right after squishing Stanley like an ant!" He enthusiastically explained, mimicking Ford's explosion gesture. The cockroach scuttled away in terror.
"There's always a catch with you, Cipher." Ford sighed, gathing the keys to the four door padlocks.

"Why so worried I'll run away? What do you even plan to do with me, Sixer? Keep me here until I die?" Bill stood up, examining his not-so-familiar face in the mirror. Across the room, Ford fumbled with his keys.
"Assuming you've lost your immortality, that's the plan." He unlocked the first and second padlock. The third was his least favorite, it was equipped with an ever-changing code in 52 different interdimensional languages.
"Oh! Easy," Exclaimed Bill, "I'll just have to wait until I outlive you!"
"Not if I utilize your new set of human weaknesses first!" Ford grinned, holding up the final padlock. Maybe he should stop putting his least favorite security methods onto something he had to remove and install daily, he thought. Bill waltzed past him to exit the room, saturated with the confident swagger of a man unaware of his own faults.
"Speaking of human weaknesses, I'm going to reccomend you shower soon." Ford suggested. Bill shot him a disgusted look.
"WHAT?" He scratched down his face, "I THOUGHT THEY ONLY DID THAT IN MOVIES!"

After an hour and a half of convincing, Stanford had finally managed to strip the former demon of most of his clothes (in a platonic, helpful context, platonic, he told himself) and shove him into the bathtub. Upon getting a closer look at his body, Ford took mental note of the light grey, crack-like streaks that ran across Cipher's torso. Like being stone had left physical scars on his body. He had the urge to draw them. For that, he would need a closer look. As Bill screamed in the shower about 'SOAP! IN MY EYES! THIS IS HILARIOUS!' and 'ALL I HAVE LEFT ON MY "POUR IT IN MY EYES" LIST IS WHISKEY!', Ford retrieved his journal and began to jot down his findings so far.

   It had been Dipper who convinced him to continue the study of weirdness, despite it putting his family in so much danger. His journal was newer, labeled '4' on the front, and decorated with a handful of Mabel's interdimensional copyrighted children's cartoon puffy stickers. If only it weren't nearing winter, Ford silently wished, he hoped it would pass faster, allowing the kids to come back again (Bill wasn't a big supporter of wistful moods, as he was now apparently burning his hands with boiling shower water.)

   Ford groaned, marching into the bathroom. "Can you be quiet?! We live in the middle of the woods, and at this rate, we're going to get a noise complaint!" He stamped his foot, as Bill popped his head out from the shower curtain.
   "I'm almost getting deja vu! I remember a certain someone saying the same thing 30 years ago!" He cooed, mockingly swaying in faux-smitteness.
   "I remember plenty you've said from 30 years ago, Mr. 'the best way to learn is from experiences'." Ford crossed his arms dissaprovingly.
   "Bet you remember plenty else, braniac!" Bill said, rolling out of the bathtub and lying flat on the ground.
   "At least turn off the shower! And have some decency, us humans typically wear clothes around other areas than our necks!" Ford ordered, marching out of the bathroom, firmly shutting the door behind him. Honestly, if it wasn't Bill in there, he wouldn't have any real reason to force clothes on anyone. He wouldn't be wearing them himself if humans decided to change their social customs for nudity to be acceptable. It was just the fact that it was Bill of all beings. He flushed a deep shade.