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Fiddleford shook Ford’s shoulder, pulling him out of a deep concentration. He’d been numb to the world around him but now his senses returned all at once. Hunger gnawed at his stomach, the twang of bluegrass attacked his ears, and his back ached from hours of hunching. He felt a sharp stab of annoyance at being interrupted.
“What, Fiddleford?” he snapped.
“I’ve been tryin’ to get your attention for the past five minutes. It’s late and I’m goin’ to bed. You should too.” He squeezed his shoulder, looking at him with concern.
“No, there’s too much work to be done. Are you sure you can’t stay up a little longer? I can make you another cup of coffee.”
“No, I can't. It’s time.”
Ford shrugged him off and went back to his calculations. Fiddleford started to leave the room, stopping near the doorway to turn off the music. He lingered there for a moment and Ford could feel him staring.
“Don’t forget what happened to Icarus, Stanford.”
“He didn’t flap hard enough.” Ford muttered.
Fiddleford sighed. Ford kept his eyes down, not wanting to see his friend’s worried expression. He’d be fine. A few sleepless nights was a small price to pay for the secrets of the multiverse. Frankly, it was frustrating that he couldn’t see that.
“Just be careful, Stanford. Goodnight.” He finally said, closing the door gently behind him.
The next hour slipped by far too quickly. Despite his best efforts, he wasn’t able to rekindle the focus that had fueled him before. His eyelids kept dropping as his consciousness tried to slip away. After shaking himself awake for the third time, he begrudgingly wondered if maybe Fiddleford was right. Unfortunately, it was only 1:00 AM. In order to stay on schedule, he’d have to work for another two hours.
The chair squeaked against the ground as he pushed himself away from the desk and stood. Pacing usually woke him up. He fished a protein bar out of his pocket. It had been reduced to crumbs from being sat on, but it should do the job. As he ate, he reflected on the last conversation he’d had with his Muse.
Bill had made his disappointment very clear about the delays in sourcing materials for the portal. Though Ford solved that issue, it had been several weeks since he’d shown up. Every day, he worked harder, hoping it would be enough. He was determined to make his Muse remember why he chose him.
A loud pop interrupted his thoughts, making him jump and fling his snack across the room. He was temporarily blinded by an intense flash of light. As he rubbed his eyes, he noticed the scent of ozone permeating the air. The glow dimmed until the triangular form of his Muse was visible. Bill lounged in the air a few feet ahead with his feet kicked up and his arms folded behind his body.
“My ears are burning Fordsy, someone must be thinking about me!” Bill’s voice rang out, bouncing off the walls.
Well, he was certainly awake now.
“Do you even have ears?” Ford asked, trying to act as though he hadn’t almost had a heart attack sixty two years too early.
“Wouldn’t you like to know!”
“Actually, I would. I have been curious about how you process sensory input. You know, if you’d let me study you—”
Bill groaned and sprung to his feet.
“Jeez, Sixer, at least buy me dinner first. As fun as it sounds to spend an evening under your microscope, we’ve got an interdimensional portal to build. Speaking of which, how’s it coming along?
“It’s going well,” he stifled a yawn, “progress has been slower tonight since Fiddleford went to bed, but I’m keeping us on track.”
“Oh are you? Is that why you’ve been walking in circles for the past five minutes?”
Ford’s heart sank.
“No! Or, yes, I-,” Ford struggled to explain himself, “I’ve just been having trouble focusing… I thought it would help. I don’t know, maybe some rest would clear my head.”
“Woah woah woah,” Bill waved his hands, “don’t let that lazy hillbilly get to you.”
“Actually, I was thinking of something you said once, about how a lack of sleep fries the human brain.”
Bill sighed, his lower lid pulling up. There was a trace of pity in his voice when he spoke.
“Look, normally I’d agree, but we’re down to the wire here. We don’t have time for luxuries like rest anymore. I mean, I guess you could turn in for the night,” he turned away, clasping his hands behind his back, “I just thought the greatest mind in a generation would be a little more resilient under pressure.”
“That isn’t fair. This has nothing to do with my mind and everything to do with the limits of my human body!” Ford protested, “If there were a way I could both sleep and get work done, you know I would be doing that.”
Bill’s eye popped open on his back and his limbs swiveled to match his new orientation. He snapped and glowed brighter, bathing the room in golden light.
“IQ, that’s it! I knew you’d think of a solution!”
“…Did I?”
Bill hovered closer and poked his chest, forcing him to take a step back. Ford breathed in sharply.
“You’re right, It isn’t fair that you’re bound to that weak human body. Why don’t you let me take a turn at the wheel?”
As he spoke, Bill’s eye flickered up and down his body. Ford felt hot under his gaze. The air between them crackled with Bill’s ambient electric energy, making the hair on his arms stand up. The tightly packed specks of light that made up Bill’s body blinked and shifted. Having had more chances to observe him up close, Ford was familiar with the way they danced around each other in an exact and mesmerizing pattern. He had to consciously pull his attention back to the conversation.
“I- I’m not following.”
Bill hopped onto Ford’s shoulder and draped an arm around him. He screwed his eye shut as his body shook and whirred mechanically. When it opened, his eye had been replaced by a glowing projector lens. It projected a pixelated scene in front of them. In the center stood a red silhouette of Ford with a yellow silhouette of Bill hovering nearby.
“If you let me, I can pilot your body and work on those calculations for you while your consciousness is released to get some much-deserved rest. Think of it like you're taking a vacation and I’m house sitting!”
As he spoke, the two figures shook hands. The figure of Bill disappeared into the red Ford, changing its color to yellow. Meanwhile, a transparent version of the red Ford slipped out and hovered nearby. The yellow ford sat down at a desk and began writing while the red Ford curled up in the air, little Z’s drifting above its head.
“So, we’d be switching places essentially— you would occupy my body in the physical world while I rested in the mindscape.”
“Exactly! As always, you catch on quick. The best part is you’ll get to see how I… how did you put it earlier?” The red Ford stood up and lifted a finger in the air as Bill made his voice nasally, “Ah right, ‘process sensory input.’”
“I don’t sound like that.” He jerked his shoulder up to kick Bill off, trying not to smile, “But, yes, that would be enlightening.”
The projection fizzled out as Bill exaggerated his fall. He tumbled across the room, catching his hat in the air. Giving Ford a hard stare, he dusted it off and hovered back towards him.
“Sure, Fordsy.” he replaced his hat pointedly and rolled his eye, “The point is, it’ll give you something to write about in that diary—“
“Journal.”
“—of yours later. So, what do you say?”
The weight of the offer struck Ford. The thought that his Muse wanted to use his tremendous power just to help him get some rest made his chest glow with warmth.
“You would really be willing to do that for me?”
Bill reached out and put his hands on either side of Ford's head.
“Sixer,” though he had no mouth, Ford could hear him grin, “it would be my pleasure. Besides, I’ll get the chance to experience all your delightful human senses! In the end, you’ll be doing me a favor.”
Bill’s right hand trailed up the side of his head and through his hair. He ruffled it lightly, making it stand up and cling to him with static. Ford couldn’t help leaning into the touch, enjoying the way it made his head buzz.
“Alright, I’ll do it.” Ford was embarrassed to hear his voice coming out slightly higher than usual.
“Great! Let’s shake on it.”
Bill backed away and extended a hand towards Ford. Without consciously meaning to, Ford’s arm began to raise magnetically.
Then, something tugged at the back of his mind, giving him pause. Fiddleford had warned him to be careful.
Remember what happened to Icarus.
“C’mon, Fordsy, don’t you trust me with your body? I’ve taken good care of you so far, haven’t I?”
Fiddleford’s warning was overpowered by another memory— the first time that he had taken Bill’s hand. He’d made a promise. From now until the end of time. Since then, his Muse had fulfilled many of his deepest desires. He’d calmed and boosted his mind. He’d guided him to discoveries that seemed impossible. He’d believed in him like no one else had. They understood each other. There was no limit to what they could achieve together.
Icarus didn’t flap hard enough.
Ford thrust his hand out and grabbed Bill’s.
“You’re going to enjoy this, Sixer.”
Bill’s eye crinkled. His hand was soft like velvet and cold to the touch. Buzzing electricity danced between their fingers.
A roaring blue flame enveloped their hands. Ford instinctively flinched away, but Bill’s strong grip kept him still. The flame was surprisingly cold. Fascinated, he watched as it flickered and danced, shedding the occasional blue ember. It was incredible to touch fire without being burned. Ford reveled in the experience.
Slowly, a cool tingling sensation seeped into Ford where his hand touched Bill’s. Soon, his hand was numb and the prickling began to spread up his arm. The experience was similar to a limb falling asleep. He tried to twitch his fingers but they didn’t react. In a rush of panic, he stiffened against the feeling. Bill spoke in a soft voice.
“It’s alright, Fordsy. You deserve a break. Just relax and let me take over, okay?”
He gently rubbed a finger over Ford’s thumb. He wished it hadn’t gone numb so that he could feel it glide over his skin.
Alright, my Muse. He tried to say, but his lips did not move. The tingling had spread quickly through his chest and out to the rest of his body. As the fear of losing control rose again, he talked it down. His Muse was right, he deserved a break. He stopped fighting it and surrendered himself.
As he gave into the sensation, it rewarded him by easing his physical burdens. The gnawing hunger in his stomach, the stiffness in his back, the heaviness of his eyelids— they were replaced by a pleasant tingling. Enveloped in the strange sensation, he was frozen in place. All he could do was stare into Bill’s large, glittering eye. He admired the way it glowed with the reflection of the blue flame.
“That’s it, that's very good.” Bill whispered before pulling on Ford’s hand and disappearing.
Ford's stomach dropped and the world went dark. It was like he’d been plunged into a cold body of water. The tingling dissipated, replaced by an all-encompassing coldness. His consciousness was unmoored, drifting in an endless dark sea. After a while, the cold melted to a dull numbness. Normally, Ford was constantly overwhelmed by a barrage of human sensations. To finally be free of that burden, even for a moment, was euphoric. Gratitude washed over him.
He floated in that darkness for an unknowable amount of time, waiting. Then, suddenly, he was yanked out of the depths. The heaviness of having a body returned to him, but something was wrong. Every part of him felt like it was going to explode as a strange pressure built up inside him. The limits of his body strained to contain too much of something. An intense heat seared through him. Dizziness overwhelmed him as he scrambled to make sense of it.
His thoughts were slow and halting but the realization managed to dawn on him— instead of being ejected, he was sharing his body with Bill. It was not built to contain two beings.
I told you to relax, Fordsy.
He didn't hear Bill exactly, instead Ford registered his comment as if it were a thought floating through his brain. Putting words together for himself was difficult. His mind was too busy stretching to accommodate Bill to lend him the capacity for thoughts of his own. Bill’s laugh echoed in his head.
Struggling only makes it harder. There’s room in here for the both of us, isn’t there?
As much as he wanted to agree, he struggled to believe it. The feeling of fullness was achingly overwhelming. His mind was on the verge of breaking. Then, a vision of himself meditating filled his mind. He was sitting cross-legged and box breathing.
Ford took the hint. He breathed in for four seconds, held for four. The chaos in his mind calmed. He breathed out for four seconds, held for four. His mind became flexible, like wax.
Good.
As he breathed, his body loosened. The discomfort eased and his brain adjusted to accommodate the two of them. Eventually, the fullness no longer felt painful. In fact, the way his body pressed in on itself became almost pleasant. As he became more present in his body, he swore he could feel two hearts pounding together in his chest.
Bill had entered his mind before, but he had always been a guest. Now, the lines between him and Bill barely existed. They were entirely entwined.
Aw Sixer, your face is getting warm! Is this how it feels when you blush? I didn’t know I made you feel like this!
Ford stopped breathing, mortified that his body had given him away. He tried and failed again to put words together.
Don't be so bashful! This is how I want you to feel… Anyways, unfortunately I’m gonna have to kick you out now. Three’s a crowd and all that, it’s time for me and your body to have some alone time.
All at once, the pressure released as Ford was unceremoniously thrown out of his body. He soared through the cool air and landed softly against a wall. He felt suddenly empty. As relieved as he was to be thinking clearly again, he missed the pressure of melding with Bill.
He tried to get his bearings, adjusting to yet another new state of being. Looking down at himself, he saw that he was transparent and ghostly. Tentatively, he drifted upwards and looked around the room. In the opposite corner, his body was crumpled on the floor. He was momentarily embarrassed by his disheveled appearance. Before he could dwell on it too much, his body began to wriggle. Dread and fascination mixed as he processed the strangeness of it all. After some odd twitching and painful-looking twisting, Bill managed to maneuver Ford’s body into a slouch against a nearby file cabinet. His head lifted and Bill stared at him through glowing yellow eyes.
“Fordsy, this thing fits like a glove! It’s like your body was made to be my vessel!”
“I’m… glad I could be a good host.” Ford laughed awkwardly, “Can you see me?”
He was relieved to hear his voice coming out as intended this time, if wavering a bit.
“Sure I can, Sixer!” He stumbled up, moving Ford’s legs awkwardly and throwing his hands in the air, “We’ve traded places!”
Bill lost his footing and Ford’s body crashed back to the floor, his head smacking against the file cabinet.
“Oh boy, I haven’t piloted one of these in ages!” Bill rubbed his head where it had been hit, “There’s so many fun sensations!”
“Hey, be careful with my body there.”
“I wouldn’t dream of seriously hurting your lovely vessel, Fordsy. Would you mind if I just pinched ya a few times though? I've missed human pain!”
“Ah, I suppose. Do you really enjoy pain?”
“Lots of people enjoy pain, Sixer.” Bill winked and grinned with Ford’s face, “Wow! I can actually wink! I guess having two eyes does have perks.”
Bill stuck Ford’s arms out and wiggled his fingers
“And all these fingers! Ohoho, this is gonna be fun!” Bill ran his hands down Ford’s body eagerly.
Ford was relieved he couldn’t blush in this form. Though, once again, he wished that he hadn’t lost sensation in his body. He longed to feel the way Bill was caressing it. He gulped, feeling lightheaded. This was too much. Quickly, he tried to think of anything to say to move the conversation away from his body. Perhaps he’d pivot it back to pain.
“I guess after years of low sensory input some pain must be, ah, stimulating.”
“You could say that! You don’t know how boring it gets to live as long as I have and not even get to pinch yourself every once in a while." He pinched ford's thigh, cringing but not dropping his smile, "It gets real dull, Sixer.”
“Well, I’m glad you enjoy it. I personally find all human sensations to be quite a burden.”
Bill stopped pinching and started lightly stroking his inner thighs. He leaned Ford’s head to the side and looked up at him.
“Sounds to me like you haven’t been given the right sensations.”
Ford’s eyes widened and his heart lurched. Bill’s eyes blinked, slightly out of sync. An unnaturally wide grin spread slowly across his face, showing too many gums. Laughing harshly, he struggled to push himself up onto unsteady legs. He walked towards Ford, taking steps that were more like repeatedly falling and catching himself than walking. Some deep instinct told Ford to run far away. Something stronger burned and told him to stay right where he was. He didn’t budge. Finally, Bill closed in, his face inches away from Ford’s. Ford was not normally confident in his ability to read expressions, especially not Bill’s. However, on his own face, he was certain of what he saw. He recognized it as a look of intense and unconcealed hunger.
Bill put a hand through Ford’s chest, stopping when it hit the wall behind him. It passed through with no resistance and sent a thrill radiating through his body. His heartbeat quickened.
“Oh we could have fun with this.”
Bill leered at him through his own eyes, leaning in but stopping just short of touching. Ford made a move to close the distance but Bill backed away. He straightened up and clapped.
“Too bad we’re on a timeline! Besides, you need some rest. So, I’m gonna have to say goodnight, Sixer. You’ll get your body back in the morning.”
Ford opened his mouth to protest but as soon as Bill snapped, Ford ceased to be. It was like going under anesthetic— sudden, complete, and dreamless.
After what felt like a short moment but must have been hours later, he stirred awake. His body was slumped heavily over his desk. As he rose, he was greeted by all his familiar aches. Though, he thought with a rush of gratitude, Bill must have fed him because he wasn’t hungry anymore. As promised, a stack of finished equations sat neatly in front of him. Next to it was a warm cup of coffee and a yellow sticky note.
Thanks for letting me inside you, Fordsy. Enjoy the head start. See you soon.
Ford's face burned. He didn’t know how to explain what they did last night, but he knew it was the most intimate experience of his life. He knew he had to do it again.
The lab door creaked open and he shoved the note into his pocket. Hoping he didn’t look too flustered, he turned to greet his friend.
“Good mornin'!” Fiddleford stared at the large pile of fully solved equations, “Gee, Stanford, did ya stay up all night?”
“I got us a head start today, but there’s still much work to be done!” Ford avoided directly answering his question, grabbing a stack of blank paper and handing it over, “Would you get started on the next batch while I double check these?”
Fiddleford nodded, searching Ford’s face with a perplexed expression. Ford grinned. If he only knew.
Sitting back down at his desk, he began checking Bill’s equations. They were perfect, as expected. He couldn’t stop thinking about Bill’s note. See you soon. The promise fueled him through the day.
Nothing would slow his progress, not even the mysterious burning pain that was developing in his right eye.