An Unsettling Dream

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Stanford Pines laid stiffly on a fold out cot. His brow furrowed and the corner of his mouth twitched. As he began to fall asleep he abruptly felt the boat dip sharply and then slip back upward with sickening curvature. 

Ford opened his eyes to a vastly expanding New Jersey beach. In one direction just past miles of sand and pale shells he was certain he heard the ocean, somehow that too stretched into an even more distant horizon. There was a hazy yellow sky, he couldn’t tell if it was evening or dawn. He didn’t know if it was cloudy, there were no clouds and yet there was no sun either. The smell of rain still lingered in the air though. While it didn't take long for Ford to deduce this was a dream, he felt this one stuck out among any of the other dreams he’d had recently. 
He swallowed and adjusted his glasses. 
A familiar voice spoke clearly over the distant waves.

“Heya Sixer.”

Ford inhaled sharply and turned a 180 in one quick motion, his expression already a furious glare. Behind hard eyes and furrowed brow there was indeed fear, though. He knew it, and so did that damn demon. He found it hard to find the words, deep down he had suspected after everything was over it wouldn’t actually be, but he couldn’t be blamed for wishful thinking. His lips pulled back tightly as if he was fighting the urge not to puke when he finally spoke. 

“How did you get here?” He spoke as calmly as a man with a chest full of smoke could. It closed Its eye and smiled. Ford could tell it was a smile. He could tell what It was thinking just as well as It could tell what he was thinking. 

“Oh, Don’t worry about that, Let’s just say they let me have a conjugal visit.” Bill replied. 

Ford swallowed again. A sizable pit had formed in his stomach, but he swore he could still feel the rocking of the boat. He could only use the vague sense of treading the ocean to keep him grounded. 

He chuckled humorlessly “And why choose to use that on me?” he asked.
“Who else would I have used it on?” The static within the scarring across Bill's body crackled. Ford sat on a chair that wasn’t there before he thought of sitting, still keeping down something repulsive and demeaning. “Then tell me why you're here” He asked, more so demanded as his patience was running thin. When he blinked Bill sat about 3 feet away from the author. There was silence for an indeterminate amount of time. After all, at the moment it didn’t technically exist. 

“Something told me I needed it. A decision made for the sake of my own health per se” He replied. Ford’s brow twitched.

He could tell by now Bill likely wasn’t supposed to be here. 

He crossed his arms “Your methods of showing affection have always been pathetically unorthodox.” he said.

Bill smiled again, circling his thumbs around each other.
“Don’t make me grab a dictionary, IQ.” He mused (HA). Ford dug his nails into his worn denim jeans. “Don’t get smart. Tell me why you’re here!” He snapped. 
Bill straightened his posture, looking the man in the eyes. Ford thought he noticed a sense of exhaustion about the thing in front of him, if he could only imagine. He’d spent a fair amount of time in several universal prisons. He wasn’t sure if any of them could amount to whatever Bill was going through wherever he probably broke out of for the time being.

Bill was sure none of them could even kind of come close.

“I told you the truth, Sixer” He replied. “It's just a little ol’ visit.”

Ford stared, his face void of any emotion. 

It got quiet again. After a while a light fog moved in and settled around the two as they just stared at one another. It was painfully boring, in a general sense, but neither of the two were really worried about that. The fog shifted around Bill.

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⏰ Last updated: Sep 15 ⏰

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