Chapter Text
“Not that Ford! What do you want from me?!” Stan yells.
Ford feels his breath leave his body, “Stan-“
“A few train cars ago you couldn’t stand to look at me!” Stan interrupts, “Now you wanna be twins again? I don’t get it!” He yells, his voice grating as it peaks. “You pushed me aside, you jerk! It was supposed to be us forever!”
“Stan, I just- I needed space, okay?” He stammers. He was sure now, at least, that he wanted to be twins again, even as he feels Stan verbally twist a knife into his heart. But even with the regret, Ford feels like he must defend his past actions.
“oh, so is that why you let Pa kick me out? You needed space?” Stan accuses bitterly, throwing his hands out to the side
“No!” Ford insists “You had just taken away my dream school! I was angry- I said fine, Stan can just take the stan-o-war and leave, let him live his dream.”
“My dream?” Stan says brokenly, “All I wanted was to be with you, Ford. That’s what my dream was! When you were leaving me behind, it felt like my world was ending.” Stan’s voice cracks, his eyes visibly wet at his confession. “I didn’t mean to break your machine. I didn’t even think it was broken when I left. I was angry, but I’d never intentionally hurt you like that. I- I can’t believe you’d think I would…”
Ford stops, shocked silent. He remembers all the times that Stan was beaten up by Crampelter and his goons for defending Ford, every time that Stan would switch with him to make sure he wouldn’t fail gym, the only class Stan got straight Bs in which could’ve been straight As had he not “missed” those days. Why had he believed that Stan had broken his project on purpose? Stan was clumsy and had broken his own glasses one too many times for their father’s standards, which is why he didn’t wear glasses after third grade. Stan had broken Ford’s glasses once, but nobody had accused him of doing so on purpose, unlike with his own glasses.
So why had he thought Stan had harmed his project on purpose?
He opens his mouth to say something, but Stan continues, likely thinking that Ford was completely speechless. Stan had always hated the silence.
“But you know the worst part? After everything, after you threw me away, after you forgot about me, I still.. I still cared.” Stan’s jaw flexes visibly, “I care now, even when you keep throwing me away, even when you don’t care about me,” he laughs a horrible bitter mockery of a laugh, “hell, even when I don’t care about me, I still care about you and what you think of me.”
A bright light comes from the palm of Stanley’s hand. He lifts it up, Ford close enough to see Stan’s palm.
0
“The train thinks I’m ready to leave?” Stan says softly, breathlessly, like nothing he’s ever heard from his brother since right after Carla cheated on him.
“What?” He asks. Stan knows what the number means?
Before Stan can answer, another light sparks out of nowhere, a line forms in the air, carving a line into the very fabric of space down to the floor. Two more lines spout from the top of the line and arch away from the center. It’s not until the symbol is etched into the center that Ford realizes that it’s identical to the doors of the train, but made of a glowing green light. Sure enough, the train symbol twists and the entire door glows brightly as the door opens. The light dimes and he can see the inside of the door where a vortex spirals to an image of a run down motel where he sees something he never expected to see again, the Stanmobile. Her red paint might be dulled and scratched up, but it’s unmistakably Stan’s car.
Is this where Stan was? In some dingy motel who knows where? He looks at his brother, with his clean and immaculate jacket, strong build, and good complexion. He had assumed that he was doing well for himself, but looking at where he was spending his night didn’t match up with his appearance.
“You- Stan? What is this?” Ford asks
He sees Stan swallow thickly.
“It’s.. a door, it’ll take us back to earth.” He answers obtusely.
“But where is that? Is that-“ Ford takes a breath, forcing himself to say it, “-is that where you were? When the train took you?”
Stan cringes, his eyes looking away from the door, shying away from Ford's prying gaze. He was either ashamed or scared to tell Ford the truth. Not that Ford was any better, he’s scared of his brother's answer, he thinks he knows where this is going, and he doesn’t want to be proven right.
“No.” Stan says, and Ford feels his shoulders relax as he lets out a breath before Stan continues, “The truth is, I was being chased by a cartel that wanted me dead when the train picked me up.”
Ford feels his heart clench in the most painful ways, his brain sputters like a dying engine as he takes in what Stan had just said. Stan keeps his face turned away from Ford, who’s barely looking at him now, instead looking at an invisible middle space as he comes to terms with just what’s come of Stan’s life.
G-d he screwed up
“God I screwed up”
Stan looks at him sharply
“What?” Stan asks, confused.
“Stan, what happened? After Pa- after I let you go that night.” Ford says numbly.
Stan sighs like he’s accepted his fate.
“A lot, to put it simply. At first it was just about making the money Pa told me to make, but pretty soon..” he stops for a moment, looking down and away from Ford to scowl at the ground. “It was about feeding myself, keeping myself alive. I started off trying to sell products I thought I could make some money off of, but then I got desperate, fighting in illegal rings, smuggling and selling drugs, doing whatever it took.”
Stan is quiet again, closing his eyes in shame and bitterness. Ford tries desperately to absorb it all, trying to connect the headstrong and loving brother he knew to the desperate criminal he’s making himself out to be. He put Stan there. He and his father let lovable Stan be put into a position where it was either do those things or die. More than that, they put him there themselves and then pretended not to care .
Ford presses his lips together in a tight frown and blinks away tears. He can’t believe himself. His reflection was right, Stan was right, he threw his brother away for one mistake and did everything to not let himself think about him. How could he do something like that to the one person who was always there? The kid who stood up against their bullies, the teen who took their father’s anger when Ford’s glasses were broken by Crampelter, the hero who had time and time again picked him up when he called himself a freak.
Ford must’ve taken too long to reply, as Stan looks back at him and takes in a sharp breath. Stan takes a step towards him and Ford hugs himself with one arm while the other comes up to cling to his own neck. He speaks before Stan has a chance to.
“I’m sorry” he sobs, the tears breaking through his efforts to keep them in.
“Ford?” he hears Stan ask, but Ford keeps his face down.
“I’m so sorry, Stanley.” He says, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself before continuing. “You didn’t deserve that to happen to you. I was just so angry- but- I-“ he looks up at Stan who looked like he was about to cry as well. “I’ve missed you, Stan.”
“You-?” Stan says, confused and a little too shocked for Ford’s tastes. He shouldn’t be confused or shocked to know that Ford missed him.
“I missed you, Stanley.” Ford repeats, nodding.
His hand glows a bright green, just as Stan’s did. It’s light joining the light of Stan’s number, still glowing in his palm. Just as it did for Stan, a line creates an image of the doors of the train and opens up to reveal his house in Gravity Falls.
They’re both silent for a moment.
“Awful timing, huh?” Stan says, a watery smile on his face.
“Right when we actually start getting somewhere, so it seems.” Ford shoots back a small smile of his own. “Stan, let’s not fight anymore.”
Stan looks at him with a tight lipped smile before he throws his arms around Ford. Ford wraps his arms around Stan and it feels like everything is better, but not perfect. Like a drawing that just feels incomplete, not horrible, but missing something.
“Stan,” Ford says into his brother’s shoulder, “Come up to Gravity Falls. Stay with me there.”
Stan’s breath hitches and he hugs Ford tighter. Ford feels Stan shaking and he can’t help but sniffle, hoping not to start crying again.
An awfully long but wonderful moment passes with Ford holding Stan tightly, before they release. Stan wipes his eyes as discreetly and shyly as he can, trying to convince Ford that he wasn’t crying and failing. Ford doesn’t tell him so, he’ll wait until their relationship is on slightly better terms to start making jabs at him like they used to.
Ford pulls out his journal, the outline of a missing handprint bringing him a sense of hope and pride. He opens to a new page and tears out a small slip of paper. He brings it to a wall and pens in his address and phone number. Giving it to Stan. “I think you’ll like it there, it has so much more than just a single monster like the Jersey Devil. I think it would be handy to have another person to help me and my friend with the project we’re working on.”
“Project..? You’re sure you want me helpin' with something like that?” Stan meekly asks.
“Of course. I- Stan, it was an accident, right?” Ford pauses until Stan nods. “then we just have to be careful. And talk about things before they get out of hand..” Ford looks away as he says this, saddened that all of this could’ve been avoided by talking about it. He looks back up at Stan, who looks thoughtful. He hugs him again, briefly. “I’ll see you in Gravity Falls, Stanley.”
Stan looks up at him, smirks, and hits him lightly in the shoulder. “Yeah, Sixer, I’ll see you soon.”
They face their doors and go to stand in front of them. They share a look, Stan nodding at Ford and Ford giving a sharp nod back before stepping into the door.
- THREE DAYS LATER
Stanford is, as he had been yesterday, waiting anxiously for sight of the red car carrying Stanley. The day after he got back, he had spent cleaning out a room for his brother.
The night he had gotten back, he had walked back into his house and been welcomed by the sight of Fiddleford sleeping on the couch in the front room, the phone base pulled up to the end table, the receiver buzzing in his hand hanging off the couch. Papers were scattered all over the table, but that wasn’t anything new, what was new was the papers’ contents. News clippings of disappearances all over crook county spanning the last hundred years, maps of Gravity Falls and all over Oregon, and his other journal laying open on the page about tulpas, with multiple new bookmarks sticking out all through the book.
He knelt down to Fidds and gently shook his shoulder, “Fidds?” he whispered, a smile on his face.
Slowly, Fiddleford's eyes opened, saw him, and then suddenly snapped open. He pushed himself up quickly. “STANFORD!” he exclaims.
Ford was caught up in a hug right then, his friend holding him up against himself tightly. Ford grins brightly and chuckles lightly, enjoying Fidd’s enthusiasm.
The moment only lasts a moment, however, as Fiddleford pushes him back by the shoulders, keeping him where he wants him. “Where in tarnation were you? I looked everywhere from here to Timbuktu! I done tuned up for days worried sick about where’d you gone to, Ford!” He cries worriedly, wiping one of his eyes with the palm or his hand.
“It’s a bit of a story- I got taken on an anomalous train- I think it might exist on another dimension entirely, forming gateways to lure people from all over our world into it’s dimension-“ Ford yawns suddenly, realizing how long it’s been since he’s had a cup of coffee. For as much the train had food and liquids, it didn’t have much coffee. “I need coffee, do we have any?” he asks.
Fiddleford pushes out a breath that sounds long suffering in tone. Instead of answering, he drags Ford up by his arms and stands up from the couch. He leads him to the stairs rather than the kitchen and when Ford hesitates is when Fiddleford speaks: “I have been up worrying these past two weeks, we’re going to bed, we can talk more in the morning.”
Ford was about to argue, when he yawned again and chose to comply instead.
“Oh hey, you found him.” A voice said sleepily. He looked over to the source and found a gnome wearing a night cap and gown rather than their customary clothes walking out of the kitchen doorway.
“Did you kidnap a gnome?” Ford asked, surprised.
“Naw I’ve been feeding them for any information they could dig up on you.” Fiddleford pushed him further up the stairs.
Ford hummed a thoughtful noise and continued up the stairs.
The next day he had explained everything to Fiddleford, including everything about his brother. Fiddleford had heard his side of the story of the night Stan was kicked out before, but now he made sure to include a few amendments, like how Stan acted the days leading up to the event. He hadn’t before mentioned how insecure Stan seemed about their relationship, or how quiet and worried he was after the meeting with the principal- he’ll have to ask about that later. He mentioned how Stan had played it off as said it was an accident, but now he told him that not only was the machine working when Stan left- another thing to ask about later, but that Stan had never been known to hurt him or anyone in their family like that and the few times he broke something of anyone’s, it was completely accidental.
Of course, the girlfriend stealing hippy's van he damaged on purpose.
Then they had cleaned out a spare room and made it into a bedroom in a day and a half, using the size altering crystals to make moving the bed in easier.
Now he just had to wait, which was what he did half of yesterday and most of today. He received a quick call earlier when Stan made it into Oregon safely, both to let him know that he was a few hours out and also to make sure that Ford wanted him to come. He had let out a relieved breath audible enough for the receiver to pick up when Ford had excitedly picked up the phone asking if it was Stan calling, which broke his heart a little, but he was glad to hear his voice either way.
Fiddleford brought him lunch and dinner and sat with him for hours, alternating between talking with him, working on his computers, and picking at his banjo for the majority of the day.
With both of them occupied, no work had been done on the portal for two and a half weeks.
Bill hadn’t been happy with the delays, especially when they were so close, but he was interested in hearing about the train. Apparently, it existed outside both Bill and Ford’s dimensions so unless a gateway opened, neither could access it. Bill hadn’t known much, but Bill had at least heard about it before, apparently it opens gates around a few different universes, but often only takes in human riders and mimics non-human species and planets. All of this info from Bill was then transcribed into his journal which was still missing it’s cover, but with how much was used just on the train, he thinks he’ll have to rebind the journal, removing those pages to add them to another journal just on the train. He wants his main journals to focus primarily on Gravity Falls' weirdness, and since the train was attracted to him and not the town, he thinks he’ll keep it short in his journal and the more in-depth in a separate book.
That evening, as the sun was low and the shadows of the towering oak and pine trees consumed his house in a twilight darkness, he glimpsed the Stanmobile through the trees seconds before it pulled up to the house. Stan got out two moments after parking it and Ford was there to greet him with a hug.