Broken

Chapter 3

When Ford woke, he found himself in a place he hadn't seen in a long time. He only witnessed it during his 30 years in the portal, and he wished to never return. Ford stared in the face of death plenty of times here, and had cheated it every time. He considered it the victory of a coward to do such, to be spared from the face of death so easily. 

Where Ford found himself was an execution room. He had been to many an execution room in his lifetime, but this one he found himself in was all too familiar. It was the only one he found himself so close to death he could taste it. He slipped into the comfortable trance of death, ready to end his life. But that occurrence, something that only happened 10 years ago, was far behind Ford. He didn't feel any better of a man then as he did now.

But something felt distinctly different.

It was almost as if the air of familiarity from the room was fading. It was slowly being drained out of the room, yet Ford remembered every detail of the room. He remembered the judge, the executioner, the eager onlookers, awaiting Ford's bloody death with hungry eyes. He remembered the dark walls stained with blood and the dim light that hung low over the room. It revealed a guillotine at the center of the room, complete with a bloody blade. Every detail was exactly as he left it all those years ago, panicked and grateful to be alive. He couldn't figure out the foreignness of this room. Why did it seem like such a distant memory? 

Then he saw it. 

The figure at the guillotine, wrapped in a sweater and pants. The dark complexion was familiar to Ford. He recognized it immediately. Ada. Ada was at the hands of the executioner. She was going to die. The blade was already falling as pleas for her life came ripping from her throat. Ford attempted to dash into action, but he himself was being held back by a series of restraints. He looked down at them. Chains. Blue chains. Blue chains with a distinct glow around them and an iron grip. Then a gasp left him in realization. He was back. He returned, just as Ford had feared. 

The blade fell onto Ada's neck and she died, right there in front of him. The man was accustomed to death after having witnessed it for so long, but the sight still made him cringe. He didn't have much time to give Ada's death consideration before he heard that familiar cackle come from the executioner's direction. 

"Show yourself!" Ford found the will to speak. His mouth became dry when he spoke. What was intended to be an ordering shout came out as a hoarse squeak. 

The demon on Ford's mind followed suit as he jumped out of the executioner's body, the world around them both turning gray.

"Well, well well," Bill greeted in his normal snappy tone. "It seems you've become a housekeeper for strays." 

Pent-up anger coursed through Ford at the shrill sound of Bill's voice. The will to speak didn't present itself. He only clenched his six-fingered hands into fists, a sign of aggression. Ford's face contorted into a look of disgust and anger, a summary of the emotions he felt toward the triangle. 

"If you have nothing nice to say, don't say it at all," Bill teased. "Listen, Ford. I had no idea you would become so vulnerable over time. And I can't have my best pawn all hospitable and vulnerable at a time like this." 

"What are you planning?" The pent-up anger was slowly releasing itself.  

"That's not important right now. What's important is that you stop getting so attached to Ada, or else there some major consequences coming your way, just you watch!" 

Ford felt the adrenaline, the rush of fear run through him, but chose not to give into it. He couldn't. Not around Bill. But before he could process anything, Bill vanished. The execution room, Ada's body and the dim lights began to fade...

That was when Ford woke up, for real this time. He glanced around the room, the familiar surroundings of the Shack coming back. He was in Stan's arm chair. The TV was in front of him. A fish tank sat next to him along with the dinosaur skull he'd excavated from the ground years ago. It was then that Ford knew he was in the waking world. That meant Ada really was in Ford's care, probably upstairs where the kids once slept. It also meant that Bill was dead, a stone statue somewhere in the woods. 

However, the emotion from the dream had not left Ford. He still felt the overwhelming need to protect Ada, to prevent her from the path of his mistakes and free her from Bill's grasp before it was too late. But he was dead, right? Ford considered Bill gone once before, and he was wrong. Who was to say that the same thing wouldn't happen again? He also remembered what he did last time he found himself in a situation as dire as this one. The thought-encrypting machine in the basement still worked. All Ford needed to do was turn it on. If he could convince Ada to go through with the encryption process, she would be off the hook! It was the perfect plan. 

He made his way up to Ada's room. The stairs creaked beneath his heavy boots, and he tried not to make himself so obvious, but his weight and the age of the wood were working against him. Each step earned a louder creak, echoing throughout the house. He could only hope that Ada wouldn't notice. 

The door swung open with an even louder creak. To Ford's relief, she was fast asleep on Dipper's former bed. He had not woken her. His boots continued to elicit small creaks from the wooden planks of the floors as he made his way over to the bedside, making no haste to nudge her awake. It took a couple of forceful nudges to her shoulder before she was finally awake, and then Ford explained everything to her in a rapid manner. 

"Ada, I'm going to need you to come to the basement with me and I'll explain why on the way-"

"Ford, it's four in the morning," she grumbled as she sat up. 

"I know, but it'll be worth it once we get down to the basement and-"

"Why do you want me to come down to the basement with you?" Her query was definitely suspicious, even hostile. 

"I need to hook you up to this machine, which will bio-electrically encrypt your thoughts, and then you'll be safe from-"

"No," Ada stated in a deadpan tone. "I'm not coming with you." 

"Ada, there isn't much time," Ford begged. "Please, I'll explain it to you if you just come with me." 

"No, Ford. It's four in the morning, my car is probably getting fixed in the morning, and I want to at least get some sleep before that." 

"Please, Ada." He gripped her arm. His tone was becoming more angry, and Ada could sense it. 

"No!" She yanked her arm from Ford's grip. "This is just like yesterday," she huffed and stood up.

"I'm doing this to protect you," he shouted, his eyes growing vulnerable and his face taking on a desperate look. 

"Oh," she replied in mock concern, "because you're a paranoid old man?!" 

He sighed quickly. "Your life is in danger!" 

"It is with you." Silence fell over the room when she said that. Ada angrily exited the room, taking her jacket with her. Ford watched as she stormed down the stairs and out the house in a hurry, probably thinking less than favorable things about Ford. 

Ford sat on the bed Ada had once been sleeping in not even five minutes ago; he had to process what just happened. She refused protection. Her life was still in danger. Ford was still obligated to protect Ada. He was missing his chance by the minute, but it seemed to have made her uncomfortable with his original approach. Now she was off into the night. Ford winced at the idea of Bill doing anything to her, especially after seeing her get decapitated in his mind, a product of his own imagination. 

Maybe Ada was right. Maybe it was just the paranoia.