Chapter Text
Chapter Five: Scientists Sequestered
TW: Allusions to self harm and suicide.
It only took a day for Bendon to start getting impatient. They paced the perimeter of the barrier, knocking on it every hour of the day. Inside the shack, the group was slowly going mad. Bubby spent his time pacing the floor, Coomer reread his old journals, and Gordon and Tommy spent their time in the underground lab, trying to figure out the town wall.
On the third day, Bubby awoke to a familiar knocking outside. He poured a cup of strong coffee an stepped out onto the porch, levelling his gaze at the figure in the yard.
“Don’t you sleep or something?” he asked, taking a sip from his mug.
Bendon glared at him.
“Unlike you, disgusting human, I’m not gonna run out of energy. I don’t need sleep. I don’t need food. I’ll never rest.”
Bubby rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, give it a fuckin’ rest. Besides. You may not need sleep, but that body you’re in definitely does.”
“It doesn’t matter. I can overcome this body’s stupid needs,” they snapped. Even as they did, they were fighting to keep their eyes open.
“Listen, I don’t give a shit about you. In the slightest. But I do care about that body you’re in, so get some sleep. For Gordon’s sake.”
A sick smile spread across Bendon’s face.
“...sure, why not. For Gordon.”
They backed into the woods, never taking their eyes off of him until they disappeared into the trees. He drank the rest of his coffee and walked back into the shack, placing the mug in the sink. Coomer was sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal.
“Good morning, Bubby!”
“Morning, Coomer.”
“Enjoying the sunrise?”
Bubby sat down in the chair across from Coomer. “Something like that.”
“Is something the matter?”
“...it’s nothing. Just tired.”
Coomer sighed, shaking his head. “You know, you’ve always been a terrible liar.”
“What? No I haven’t.”
“Just tell me what’s wrong.”
Bubby hesitated, deciding wether or not to dodge the question once more. “Bendon is gone.”
“Why, that’s great news!” Coomer paused, registering Bubby’s grave tone and even graver facial expression. “Isn’t it?”
“I mean, yes, but it doesn’t make any sense. Why would they just up and leave? They must be planning something.”
Coomer placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Best not to worry about it. We can’t do much until we know what they’re up to.”
“I suppose.”
Both of them turned their heads at the hiss of the vending machine opening. Tommy walked out from behind it, rubbing his eyes. This was unusual. Most days, he was the first one up, sometimes before the sun.
“Good morning, Tommy!” Coomer said, abandoning his stormy expression in favor of a smile.
“Morning…” Tommy’s voice was sleepy.
“You slept in,” Bubby noted.
“Yeah…” he replied, pouring a cup of coffee. “Gordon and I were up late.”
“Did you boys find out anything of note?” Coomer asked.
“No-- not really. Working with alien materials is harder than I thought it would be.”
“But shouldn’t you have an edge on it? After all, you’re… well.”
Tommy sighed. “I was born on Earth, D-Dr. Coomer. I’ve never even seen dad’s planet.”
“Ah, that’s right. Perhaps you can call your father and ask him for assistance.”
“Believe me, we’ve tried,” came a tired voice from the other side of the room.
The other three turned around to see Gordon, having finally left the lab.
“Good morning, Gordon!”
“What took you so fuckin’ long?” Bubby raised an eyebrow.
Gordon shot a look at Tommy.
“SOMEone forgot that it’s very hard to climb stairs when you’re three feet tall.”
“O-Oh no.” Tommy leaned down a bit and picked him up. “Sorry, Mr. Freeman…”
He sighed. “It’s okay…”
Tommy pulled out his phone, frowning. “Still no signal.”
“Try going outside?” Bubby offered.
“Maybe,” he replied, replacing it in his pocket and looking around. “Hey, where’s Barney?”
“He’s still fucking sleeping. Why?”
“Dad hasn’t met him yet. He might-- it might be good for him to take a look at Barney. Given his… condition.”
“I’ll go wake up our friend Barney,” Coomer said, standing up from the table.
Tommy walked out onto the front porch, holding his phone up towards the sky. A bar of signal flickered in and out, and he shook the phone in frustration.
“Come on…”
He began to walk the perimeter of the house, still holding his phone up. When he reached the entrance to the gift shop, a bar finally blinked into view. He quickly rang Mayor Coolatta.
“Hello son. Do you, need, something? It is very ‘early,’ in the morning,” his voice crackled in and out, marred by static.
“Hi dad. Gordon and I have been working in the lab for days, but we can’t-- we haven’t made any significant progress. I-I was born on Earth, so I can’t help much. Can you come over?”
“I will, try. Is that all?”
“Well… no. There’s also someone we need you to meet.”
“Whom?”
“It-- I can’t really explain over the phone. You’ll just have to see.”
“Fine. I will, be over soon.”
“Thanks dad…” Tommy hung up the phone and rounded the corner to reenter the house. As he did, he jumped. Mayor Coolatta was standing on the back porch. He gave Tommy a nod.
“I-I always forget you can do that.”
“I apologize for, startling you. Should, I come in?”
Tommy nodded, opening the back door and walking in. Mr. Coolatta followed, ducking under the doorframe. Barney was the only one still in the kitchen, Gordon having gone back downstairs (with quite a bit of difficulty), and the other two having gone to pour over the journals. Barney craned his neck to look into the mayor’s face, standing up from the table.
“Uh… hi?”
Tommy gestured to his dad. “This is the mayor of Gravity Falls, Mr. Coolatta.”
“Oh, um, it’s nice to meet you Mr… wait, Mr. Coolatta? Isn’t that your last name?”
“This is also my dad.” Tommy smiled.
“I see. And he’s here at nine in the morning because…?”
Mr. Coolatta took a half step forwards.
“Tomathan wanted me, to meet you. He stressed. It was urgent.”
Holy shit his full name is Tomathan. That’s fucking hilarious. Barney bit his tongue to keep from laughing, and hesitated before continuing the conversation.
“Why?”
“He said it was, complicated.”
Barney shot Tommy a glance.
“I-I’ll have to explain it to you,” Tommy said, leading his father into another room.
Barney was only able to hear a bit of their discussion, as they exchanged words with an increasingly anxious tone. As Tommy spoke, Mr. Coolatta’s eyebrows drew together, revealing the wrinkles and creases of age. They walked back into the room. Barney had sat down in a chair to wait.
“Have you been to, see a ‘doctor?’”
Barney shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think they’d understand. ‘Sides, there isn’t anything technically wrong with me.”
“I see. Would you be, willing, to allow me to examine you?”
Barney glanced at Tommy, who gave him a reassuring smile.
“I guess.”
Mr. Coolatta nodded. “Please remain still.”
He reached forwards and placed his index finger on Barney’s forehead. His eyes glowed bright blue, and Barney’s rolled back in his head, before he slumped in the chair.
“Dad, you-!” Tommy started, but he was cut off.
“It is easier, this way.”
“...alright.”
Mr. Coolatta began examining Barney, his occasional “hmms” and “huhs” becoming less and less frequent. His concerned expression deepened by the second.
“What-- what is it?”
“Tommy, could you please look around. In his mind?”
“Oh, um… well, I’m not sure.”
“Please, son.”
Tommy sighed, placing his hands on either side of Barney’s head. His eyes went yellow as he concentrated. After about a minute, he stopped, and backed away.
“What did, you find?” Mr. Coolatta asked.
“...looks normal in there.”
“Are you sure?”
Tommy nodded, but the mayor couldn’t help but notice his hesitation and shaking hands.
Mr. Coolatta snapped next to Barney’s ear, causing him to jolt upright. His eyes opened wide as he tried to understand what just happened to him.
“What did you do.”
“Do not worry about it. Your vital signs, seem stable.”
“Stable or good?”
“...stable.”
Before Barney could ask any more questions, the mayor stood.
“I have ‘business’ to, attend to. Good day,” he said, opening the door. He ducked under the frame, closed the door, and disappeared. There were no footsteps walking away.
“But, stable is still good , right?” Barney asked Tommy, trying to keep the shake out of his voice.
Tommy didn’t reply.
“Harold, your notes are shit.”
Bubby threw the journal off to the side, massaging his temples. He had a screaming headache which had been present since he woke up, and the coffee didn’t help.
“I apologize, Dr. Bubby. I’m not educated as a biologist,” Coomer said.
“I don’t recall you taking better notes during lectures.”
“I passed, did I not?”
“Barely.”
Coomer leafed through the pages halfheartedly.
“...Bubby? May I ask you something?”
Bubby hesitated before replying. “Shoot.”
“Why have you been acting strange?”
“What do you mean?” he said, voice tense.
“You’re tense, and secretive. You avoid questions and conversation. And you haven’t been sleeping. I can hear you pacing at night.”
“Shit, Harold, can you blame me? We’ve been trapped inside by a psychotic demon who’s using my nephew’s body as a puppet!”
“Alright, alright. I just wanted to make sure there wasn’t… anything else.”
“I’m just stressed. We all are.”
Coomer opened his mouth to say something else, but another sound cut him off. Tommy’s voice, from the front of the house. It was strained and anxious.
“Dr. Bubby, Dr. Coomer! Come quick, they’ve come back! Get to the gift shop!”
They dropped the journals, rushing out of the room.
Bendon stood in the center of the backyard, smiling up at them all. Tommy was already out on the porch, Gordon sitting on his shoulder. Bubby and Coomer opened the door and froze.
They were holding a knife to their throat.
“Ben, what the fuck are you doing.” Bubby’s voice shook.
“Let’s not do anything rash,” Coomer said, raising his hands in a placating gesture.
“Aw, you care.” They laughed, a grating and harsh sound. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. Your nephew , however, will not. This little body of his won’t be getting back up after this.”
“Get your hands off me!” Gordon yelled.
“We’ll give you what you want, goddammit, just don’t hurt him.” Bubby stepped forwards.
“Funny you would say that, professor ,” they sneered.
“Doctor,” he muttered under his breath.
“Dr. Bubby… what are they talking about?” Coomer placed a hand on his shoulder.
“You haven’t told them yet?” They smirked.
“Uh…”
“So you’re a coward AND a liar?” They laughed, lowering the knife. “My, my, my. And here I was, thinking you were a good person. I guess I’ll have to do it for you.” They pointed the knife accusingly in his direction. “This man, here, sold out his family to me. He’s the only reason that I’m standing here before you. You hear that? It’s all. His. Fault.”
“Bubby,” Coomer said, “how could you?”
“I can explain! I--”
“Stop.” Coomer held up a hand. “We haven’t the time. Go inside, we’ll deal with this.”
He opened his mouth to try to keep defending himself, but decided against it. Slinking into the house, he closed the door behind him.
“What do you want, Bendon.” Coomer turned back to face them.
It took another hour until they stood down. An hour of talking, and pleading, and fear. They finally stopped when Coomer offered to remove the protection spell.
“You have 12 hours,” they warned as they walked into the woods. The knife remained on the ground, half-hidden in the long grass.
When they walked into the house, Bubby was anxiously waiting for them at the kitchen table. Wordlessly, Tommy and Gordon knew to leave them alone. They went back down to the lab as Coomer sat down at the table.
“I’m sorry,” Bubby offered, uselessly.
“Why did you do this?”
“I had my reasons. They had me backed into a corner.”
“So you betrayed your nephew?”
“He’s not your nephew!”
“Furthermore, we don’t negotiate with terrorists! You’ve put the whole damn world in jeopardy! If they manage to get out--”
“They won’t!”
“I admire your confidence.” Coomer’s voice was snide.
“What the fuck was I supposed to do! I was up against a wall!”
“What possible stakes could they have given--!”
“You, Harold!”
That shut him up. It took a moment before either spoke again.
“They threatened… you.” Bubby’s voice was shaking. “They told me that if I didn’t cooperate, they’d send you back.”
“But why…”
“You were the reason I owed them a favor. I needed their help to build the portal.” He took off his glasses, face creased in anguish. “I couldn’t lose you again.”
“...you sacrificed everything? Even the world itself? For me? Why?”
He replaced his glasses carefully on the bridge of his nose, and took a moment before he spoke. Deep breath. In, out.
“Because I’ve been in love with you since college.”
That really shut him up. The silence that stretched between them was suffocating.
“That’s… certainly a reason.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have thought that. I should’ve just held it in and let it fester until I fucking died--
Coomer placed a hand on Bubby’s, stopping his racing thoughts.
“This was probably one of the stupidest decisions you’ve ever made.”
He cast his eyes down in shame.
“And somehow, also one of the most romantic gestures you could’ve performed.”
His gaze shot back up. “What?”
“You really should’ve told me sooner. You should’ve told me forty years ago. Then we’d have more time.”
“I know, I know…”
“...I forgive you. I’m not sure if I feel the same, but I do forgive you.” Coomer stood from the table.
Bubby followed. “I’ll take it.”
“Now come on. We have 12 hours before we have to take the protection spell down, so we have 12 hours to figure out a plan to beat that son of a bitch. You ready for one last all-nighter?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”