(A/N: I've added about 300 words to chapter 9, including a few plot-important tidbits, so check it out again IF YOU DARE!!!)
"Fishy... fishy..."
"Bill, stop squishing Will's face."
"Fishy..."
"I'm so tired that it's actually funny, but stop."
"Keep going with the story!"
"You're not even paying attention!"
"I can multitask!"
"Bill, I will PAY you to let me sleep."
"And I'll pay you to keep going!"
"I will kill you."
"Finish the story first."
"Fiiiiiiiiiiine."
"Fishy."
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"Hey," Bill said.
Y/N didn't answer.
"Hey, kid, talk to me. I'm bored."
Y/N stared right through him, waiting patiently for him to let her wake up again.
"Want to play a game?"
Y/N crossed her arms, still seated in her wheelchair where she'd fallen asleep. After two more weeks of rehabilitation, during which she'd barely spoken a word to Bill, she'd regained nearly all of her mobility.
Bill sighed heavily. "Kitten, I'm beginning to think you don't really understand what the Mindscape is all about. You've had free rein in here for weeks, and you haven't even left your room, much less the Fearamid."
Y/N perked up. "Wait, I can leave the Fearamid?"
Bill rolled his eye. "Read. My. Figurative. Lips. This is a dream world. You can go literally anywhere."
Y/N sprang out of her wheelchair. "Why didn't you say so earlier? Hot dog! Let's go!"
"I did say so, like a dozen- ugh. Never mind." With a snap of his fingers, their surroundings vanished. Y/N was now standing on the very peak of a snowy mountain, above the clouds, staring in awe at the landscape that stretched as far as she could see. If it weren't for the colorless sky above them, there would be no visual indication that they were still in the Mindscape.
"It's beautiful," she whispered.
"Eh, I've seen better," Bill said dismissively.
"Why isn't it cold?" she wondered.
"Once again for the idiots in the back, this. Is. A. Dream."
"Oh. Right."
She stood, Bill floating next to her, watching the clouds shift as the wind tugged at her clothes. Despite the lack of temperature, she crossed her arms and shivered in a psychological response to the snow.
"Let's go somewhere else," she finally said.
"Ten minutes of the most beautiful scenery in the world and you're already bored," he said dryly.
"Less talking, more snapping. Chop chop, we don't have all night!"
Bill rolled his eye, but obliged. A second later, Y/N's suddenly-bare feet were stirring up the sand on the ocean floor.
She let out a surprised scream, bubbles obscuring her vision, then quickly snapped her mouth shut. She thrashed, trying to swim, but the surface was so far away and she was already getting dizzy and she was going to run out of air and die within seconds and-
"You can breathe any time now, kid," Bill said, sounding bored.
Y/N froze. Cautiously, she sucked in a breath. "Oh."
"You sure have a short attention span, kitten," he chuckled.
"Shut up! How would you feel if someone were to suddenly make you think you were about to die?" she snapped.
"I'm immortal, so I wouldn't know," he pointed out.
A shadow shifted in the middle distance, cutting off Y/N's sarcastic retort. Curiously, she peered into the murky depths, trying to discern what it was. She gasped as the creature passed above her, all fins and scales and staring eyes, and then it was gone.
"What was that?" she asked Bill excitedly.
"How the hell should I know?" he scoffed.
"You're the most useless triangle ever," she sighed, disappointed.
"I'm curious how many useful triangles you actually know?"
"Plenty."
"Name two," he challenged.
"...Shut up." Y/N glanced down at herself. "Wait, what am I wearing?"
"It's called a bikini. They'll be all the rage in about three hundred years."
Y/N crossed her arms over herself. "Are you kidding? I'm practically naked! Take me back right this instant!"
"Your wish is my command, kitten," he said sarcastically. Immediately, Y/N was back in her own room, soaking wet and still wearing the bikini.
"This isn't funny, Bill," she shouted, swiping at him angrily. He dodged her flailing arm, cackling loudly. In spite of herself, a chuckle escaped her. Soon she was laughing too, face red from embarrassment.
"Seriously," she gasped, trying to catch her breath. "Knock... it off... already!"
"Fine, fine."
Y/N gasped. With another snap of Bill's fingers, Y/N was now wearing a floor-length ball gown with black trim and off-the-shoulder black sleeves. The color was yellow, of course, but a softer, less eye-gouging yellow than Bill's coloring was. She felt something around her neck and fingered a black choker with a simple triangular charm.
"What's all this?" she asked in awe, glancing into her mirror to notice that half her hair had been piled in a loose up-do.
"I'm not done showing you everything the Mindscape has to offer." Bill held out his hand to her. She eyed it hesitantly, remembering his threat to melt her flesh off, but wrapped her hand around his stick hand all the same. It felt barely tangible in hers, as if Bill were only half real even in the world of dreams.
Their surroundings changed again. They were standing in the center of a grand ballroom underneath a massive chandelier, with creepy cupid babies painted on the ceiling. As always, everything was entirely black-and-white, but it was breathtaking nevertheless.
"Why are we here?" she asked.
Bill, still holding her hand, turned so he was facing her. "Would you care to dance?" His voice sounded uncharacteristically hesitant.
Y/N stared at him for the longest time, wondering if he had an ulterior motive. "I... suppose so."
They both shifted awkwardly for a few seconds, trying to figure out where to put their hands. Eventually Y/N settled on grasping one of Bill's lower corners while he rested his free hand on her wrist.
Holding him practically at arm's length, Y/N began moving her feet as the music started, seemingly coming from nowhere. It was unsettling to dance without her partner stepping in time with her, but Bill's feet didn't reach the floor.
They danced in silence while the song went on and on. Y/N couldn't think of anything to say. She shifted her hand as Bill's pointy edge dug into her palm.
"So... where did you grow up?" Bill said after a while, in an obviously forced attempt to start a conversation.
"Can't you just pick that out of my brain?" Y/N said without thinking.
"No," he said shortly. "I can't read your mind anymore, remember?"
"I didn't ask you to do that," Y/N snapped, trying to cover her embarrassment.
"I know," he said, softer.
"Then why-"
"Never mind," he interrupted. "Just forget I said anything."
They lapsed into silence again, but it wasn't as comfortable as before.
"Where did you grow up?" Y/N asked, as somewhat of a peace offering. "If triangles grow up, that is."
Bill looked at her in surprise. "You know, I don't really remember. I've been this way for so long that I've forgotten what it was like to be a human."
"You used to be a human?" Y/N asked, astonished.
"No," Bill said sharply, then changed the subject without subtlety. No matter how much Y/N pried, he refused to elaborate on the topic.
Y/N gave up on the conversation, casting her gaze around the grand ballroom to avoid his monocular gaze for a moment.
"Where are we, anyway?" she asked. "I don't remember seeing a room like this inside your giant yurt."
"I'm sorry, did you just call my Fearamid a yurt?" Bill sounded offended.
"I refuse to call it by that ridiculous pun name, so yes. It's a yurt."
"You wound me, Y/N," Bill sighed. "Ridiculous pun names are an art that obviously escapes you."
"You're incorrigible," she muttered, but smiled slightly.
-----------------------
*Snore*
"Oh no you don't!"
"What? Ow! Stop!"
"If you're going to force me to stay awake and finish the story, then you're not allowed to fall asleep either."
"I wasn't asleep, I was just resting my eyes!"
"And drooling?"
"Ugh. Whatever. Just finish the story already."
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In the middle of the night, the difference between the night sky in the Mindscape and the real world was negligible. The stars shone just as brightly in Y/N's dreams as they did from her window in her long-lost home.
She sat on the hilltop while Bill floated next to her, staring at the stars in silence. Hours passed, or maybe no time passed at all.
"You look sad," Bill finally said.
"It's nothing," she sighed. "Just homesick, I guess."
"Do you... like it here?" he asked tentatively.
She looked up. "It's not so bad, I guess."
"Do you want to see your dad?" Bill asked in a softer tone.
"Do I what?" Y/N said sharply, jumping to her feet.
"Again with the attention span." His mouthless face was smirking arrogantly.
"Do not screw with me, Cipher," she said harshly. "Can you or can you not show me my father?"
"Cool your jets, kitten." He snapped his fingers, opening a triangular window between them. "He's right here."
The view was from an odd angle, but Y/N could clearly see Stanford sitting at the table, focused intently on whatever blueprint was in front of him.
Y/N peered through the window, so close she could imagine reaching through it. "He looks so sad," she whispered.
Stanford's face was unshaven, the shadows under his eyes indicating sleeplessness. He scribbled frantically on the papers in front of him with a single-minded obsessiveness that Y/N hadn't seen him display in many years.
"He gets so deeply into his work that he forgets to take care of himself," Y/N said with a rueful half smile. "He's older than he thinks he is... he needs me with him."
Just as suddenly as it had appeared, Stanford's image vanished. Y/N was left staring at Bill with tears in her eyes.
"I miss him so much," she breathed, collapsing back onto the grass. She covered her face with her hands so Bill wouldn't see her cry.
"Y/N..." Bill said, so quietly she wasn't quite sure she'd heard him. "Do you want to go home?"
"More than anything," she responded immediately.
"...Your wish is my command."