Wayfarer [Bill Cipher x Reader] [REVISED]

Chapter Thirteen: Never Give Up

Cloth rustling. Springs creaking. Something heavy thumping. Huh?

You opened your eyes to the shadowy popcorn ceiling above your bed, blinking hard as your vision struggled to focus in the weak lamplight filtering in through the window. So, it was still night. Still the hour for long, quiet nothings and long, quiet dreams. So, what the heck was that noise? And who was making it?

More thumps ensued. You sat up and turned towards the noise. Was it the neighbors again? Ugh, you were so over having to tell them off. Didn't they realize how thin these damn walls were? You squinted.

Through the slivers of light coming from outside, you could just make out the form of Bill, thrashing on the bed. Oh, dear. What was this about?

You pulled yourself out of your sleeping bag and slowly made your way over to the bed, leaning over Bill. His eyes were closed, and his face was pulled into some indecipherable expression. He writhed on the bed, mumbling.

"Hey. Hey, Bill. Wake up." You shook his shoulder.

Smack! His arm flailed and slapped you right across the face. "Leave me alone, Lou!"

You hissed. "Ow!" You shook him even harder, one hand coming up to clutch your stinging lip. "You jerk! Wake up already!" you said even louder. "What the hell, man!"

Your shaking jolted him a little too hard to the right, and he fell right off the bed. A thump ensued. "Ow!" Bill, who'd half-fallen out of his sleeping bag, sat up and squinted at you. "(Y/N)... ?" he muttered blearily. "What are you doing?"

"Waking you up so you'll stop being a nuisance," you replied. "Why'd you hit me, man? I..."

Something dripped off your hand. You took it off your lip, revealing a bright red stain coating your palm. Ah, fuck!

"Dude, look at what you did!" you hissed. You pointed at your lips. "I'm bleeding!"

"Hey, hey, hey, don't be so mad at me!" Bill said, holding his hands up. "I was dreaming. I couldn't help it, okay?"

"What the heck were you dreaming about that would make you wanna smack a person?"

His mouth opened. Then, it closed. "I... it's not important."

"Fine. Don't tell me." You turned away from him. "Not like I wanna know why I gotta go and clean up this blood..."

You stomped off to the bathroom, leaving a befuddled Bill behind.

"Do you really gotta bring me along?"

"No. But I enjoy your suffering, so actually... yes."

Bill sighed loudly. "Are you still mad about me hitting you this morning?"

"... maybe," you replied. Although, if you were being completely honest with yourself, that wasn't really that true. After making it to Albuquerque and finding a decent motel with clean sheets and no obnoxiously loud neighbors, you honestly hadn't thought about it that much. You'd been too busy rejoicing over the restoration of basic living standards, it seemed.

Still, as the bright orange of the desert whipped past your car, hot sunshine baking your face, your lip still throbbed. An uncomfortable heat rose within it at times, and the pulsing distracted you sometimes. So... actually, maybe that wasn't a lie, after all. Who knew.

Definitely not Bill, who had to just take your word for it. "Okay, then. What the heck's so interesting about this... what's-it-called National Park, anyways? I've never heard of it."