Reverse!Bill Cipher (Will Cipher) Scenarios

Let Me Help

The first thing that had brought your attention to the situation at hand was funnily enough, the smell. A horrid metallic and salty smell that it took you a few seconds to recognize and longer to locate the exact source.

Will had decided on a whim to make you some hot chocolate – not that you were complaining due to having been thinking about only an hour ago – but despite the initially overwhelming scent of chocolate, the smell of blood had quickly captured your attention. For a while, you had questioned whether or not you were imagining it. Until you noticed hints of red staining Will's sleeve.

"Are you alright?" you asked instinctively, immediately placing the book you had been reading besides your hot chocolate. Admittedly, the drink was looking a lot appetizing with the sudden and unwelcome appearance of blood.

Almost immediately, the dream demon took a step away from your outstretched hand; a movement that caused you to retract it quickly. Will stared at you with wide eyes. "What do you mean?" he asked, voice shaking in a mixture of fear and apprehension.

He had seemed a little jumpy when he initially walked in but you hadn't thought much of it until that moment. A mild wave of guilt at scaring him crashed into you.

"You've got blood on your shirt," you explained, trying to make your voice sound as soothing as possible. You gestured towards his lower arm.

Instantly, Will moved his hand to hide the exact area of the injury. The movement told you the injury had definitely not gone unnoticed. "Oh," Will responded, trying to appear surprised. He shuffled slightly towards the door. "I didn't notice it. I should go and clean everything up."

"What happened?" you asked. "And don't even think of pretending you don't know."

Will glanced nervously from side to side. "I was moving some props around in the tent, to bring it back to the house and my arm got caught on it. I didn't realize it was bleeding."

Your eyes narrowed. The explanation sounded extremely rushed and it was making you suspicious but there were also hints of anger showing. You had seen Will's healing powers in action (Mabel accidently cut herself) so you didn't entirely understand why he couldn't have just used those. Plus, he was a demon and surely it would take something stronger than a stage prop to injure him.

At least, one would think.

"Can I help?" you asked, deciding to brush off the suspicion for the moment. "If you're not going to use healing powers or anything cool like that, a scratch from a stage prop could lead to infection. I have a small first aid kit that I always keep with me that I could use."

Will looked like he was about to protest against the idea but then his response changed considerably. "Why do you have it with you all the time?" he asked, curiosity managing to outweigh his fear for a short amount of time.

You hopped off the bed and walked over to the temporary cupboard. You had found it in yourself to unpack after several days but now you had no idea where anything is. Thankfully, you managed to find the box relatively quickly. "Let's just say I tend to get injured quite often," you explained.

Will winced and gave you an uneasy look. You sat down at the foot of your bed and gestured for him to join you, something he eventually did but not without hesitation. He hung his head down, allowing his hair to fall forward and hide his eyes from view.

"Let me see it," you requested, rifling around in the kit. It wasn't ideal for any big injuries but it could deal with most minor ones. You weren't sure exactly what you needed but you could estimate.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Will roll up his sleeve slowly. When you eventually glanced at the injury, your voice faded in shock. "W-W-Wha?" you cleared your throat in an attempt to get rid of the caught word. "I thought you said that it was just a scratch."

The cut ran diagonally across his upper arm with near perfect precision from one side to the next. It was gaping open, more than what would be usual and the edges were frayed from going without proper dressing. Small amounts of fabric caught in the clotted blood that only made things worse. It revealed the true depth of the cut and the ugly color was staining his skin something terrible.

Your stomach was twisted into a tight knot.

"Compared to some of the injuries I've had in the past, it is merely a scratch," Will told you, his voice so soft you were straining to hear it.

Lightly, you took his arm and moved it slightly closer to you. "I don't care what it is in comparison to other injuries, this is bad," you told him. "It needs stiches. I can see your flesh and I'm relatively sure that I can see muscle also."

Will shook his head quickly, probably giving himself whiplash in the progress. "No!" he quickly protested. "I may not be able to make use of my full healing abilities but my physical body should heal itself far quicker than a human's. It's no problem."

"And if there weren't any limitations being placed on your powers?" you asked. A small part of you didn't want to know due to your already bubbling anger.

Will seemed to sense this because he hesitated before telling you. "About half a minute. Perhaps less if I wasn't in Gravity Falls at all.

You remained silent, eyes narrowed. There was no way you were trusting yourself to speak at the moment and the walls of the mansion had ears everywhere. Instead, you merely stood up and went to slightly dampen the clean towel that was stored in the kit.

When you returned to Will, he was nervously wringing his hands together and staring blankly out of the window. It wasn't the best view in the house but it was pretty good regardless.

"You shouldn't do that," you advised him, gently taking his injured arm in your hand and moving it over to you. "If you overwork the injury, you're going to make it worse." You lightly brushed the towel against the wound but moved it away when he cringed. "I've got to clean it but let me know if I hurt you."

He didn't.

The entire time you worked on the injury, Will remained completely silent. Every once in a while, he would flinch and you would pause for a second before continuing. You cleaned the injury, disinfected it and did your best to make sure the bandage wasn't too tight or too loose. It was only once you had managed to secure the bandage that you spoke again.

"Do you have an estimate on how long it will take to heal?" you asked. "Considering that you don't go and bump it on something."

Will fixed his sleeve as quickly as possible, cringing the entire time. "It depends..." he trailed off. "I suppose that if I spend more times in the areas where the bindings are weakest, it should heal a lot quicker."

Your grip on the – now slightly bloody – towel tightened but you didn't allow your reaction to show. There was something more to the bindings that your cousins had set up but you had no idea what it may be. At the moment.

"Try to be careful," you requested. "If that wound gets opened again, you may end up needing stiches. Healing powers or not."

Will didn't respond; simply staring at the floor with a guilty expression on his face.