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“Overnight”, as Khrys had said on her way out, had turned out to be a promise kept; after which time Stanley returned home with a song in his heart [which came out his mouth] and a spring in his step. The song in particular was... Unexpected.
“Is that… the Beach Boys?” Dajan asked, looking up with a wince. Stanley didn't quite have the range for ‘Good Vibrations’ but as he danced his way out of the woods, he made up in enthusiasm what he lacked in talent.
“It is,” confirmed Ford, peeking between the blinds at his brother. ”You need to see this for yourself.” He extended his right hand to her, holding on a second or two longer than strictly necessary.
They hadn't really given any thought to doing something with the single convertible twin bed. In the aftermath of finding Dajan and getting her curse broken they had all savored the downtime. Ford had pulled out an old cot just to remain near Dajan. The storage room was cozily crowded.
Dajan, still wobbly as a fawn on newly restored legs, leaned into Ford for support, and clung to the windowsill.
Outside, Stanley danced and cavorted like a man who'd had too much to drink. Only he was sure-footed in his rather suggestive gyrations. He also seemed a little less paunchy than last they'd seen him. Stanford facepalmed. “What has he gotten into now?”
Dajan considered the question for a second then took a very careful tone of voice before asking, “... Is it not… Um … clear enough from watching him?” Then it hit her. Thirty years away from earth, from family. No way home, and focused only on his enemy to distract from that hollow, airless hopelessness. Pushing any thoughts of companionship away… He has no idea.
Ford frowned from his newfound half-human girlfriend to the window again. “He looks energized, but we’ve been that way since drinking those potion boosters. But we both stopped the night we broke the curse. The bottles stopped refilling…” Ford fell silent, dropping straight into deep thought. Dajan could envision the equations generating in front of his eyes. What Ford hadn't mentioned was that the brothers each looked and felt 30 years younger since they'd been drinking those.
Dajan bit her lip. Well, this may come as a shock, but... “Um, Ford? I can't quickly think of a way to put this more delicately, so… what your brother has likely gotten into is some cloudberry wine and Khrys’ panties.”
Ford blinked innocently for the 3 seconds it took for the meaning to click. He choked on oxygen molecules for several seconds, explaining why he was red in the face when he finally managed only to say “... Oh.” in reply.
Dajan wiggled into some Yoga pants, distracting Ford, who glanced away abruptly, from thinking too closely about his brother’s overnight visit with Dajan’s cousin. She managed to get her feet under her, and a hiking stick from the gift shop helped her walk to the door, however unevenly.
“Hi, Staaaaaannnn,” Dajan called, only to meep in surprise as Stanley swept her up into a spinning hug, then put her down to do the same to his brother as he emerged from the house.
“Stanley!” Ford gasped, surprised. “You'd think we haven't seen each other in years!”
“Six! MONTHS!” corrected Stan, switching to singing You Dropped A Bomb On Me between gushing. “One night lasting six! Crazy! Months! I know how to swordfight!”
Ford knitted his brows, immediately fascinated. “You must tell me everything!”
“A gentleman never kisses and tells!” Stan chided. “‘Scuse me, kid.”
Dajan grinned, obligingly covered her ears and hummed This Is The Song That Never Ends to herself while Stan cupped his hands over his mouth and whispered to Ford.
At length.
Ford listened intently. His jaw dropped and his expression went from curious to shocked to scandalized. The color drained from his face, then came back abruptly as a blush that climbed straight past his eyebrows. “Well, then, it does sound like you, uh… Feel appreciated and rewarded.”
Ford paused, then gawked at his brother in amazement. “Six feet off the ground?”
Stan’s grin widened, threatening to split his head open. “Yup. Oh, and she has something for you.” Stan reached into his pocket and pulled out a small gift box, about 3” on all sides. “She said this is for depriving her of her speech, and enjoy it in good health.” He whipped out his Mr. Mystery 8-ball cane and struck a pose. “And the piece de resistance,” Stan flourished, pronouncing the French entirely wrong.
He took a careful step back and drew a thirty six inch sword from the cane housing. A glowing thirty six inch sword. “Ain't she a beaut? Enchanted, too.”
“Nice,” Dajan whistled and nodded. “What's it do?”
“It always comes back to my hand. Also, points to treasure. ”
“Wow. She knows you well. Awesome. ” Dajan nodded, impressed. “Time for a change of subject!” Before Stan causes Ford a stroke.
The twins stopped and looked at Dajan -- Stan with dismay and Ford with relief.
“Love God helped you two out, big time, with the potion. Undid 30 years of the damage you did to yourselves. But if you wanna keep the new bods --” she looked pointedly between them, “there are gonna need to be some changes.”
Stan groaned. “Always there's a catch. This is gonna wear off? Whatta rip-off.”
“I don't know if it's gonna wear off, but if you wanna make the most of it, you gotta treat yourselves better. No more junk food, drinking in excess, over caffeination. And more sleep for both of you.”
The brothers looked at each other, then Dajan, and burst into raucous laughter. “Ah, geez, that didn't take long! Already with the tryin’ to rewrite us. Mold us.”
Dajan held her ground. “I'm serious.” Stan continued laughing. Oh, so they wanna do this the hard way. Dajan widened her eyes, let her lower lip stick out, and said softly, “Okay. If you really don't wanna. It's just that the last few weeks with you two… And Wendy and Soos… You have all become as much family as my blood kin. Only you're not fae. I want to keep you all around as long as possible is...is all.” One sniffle and blinking back the tears followed.
“Cheap shot kid,” Stan wagged a finger at her. “The tears woulda sold it better. Never try to con a con.”
Ford, on the other hand, looked mildly abashed. “Your concern is sweet, but ultimately misplaced, Dajan.”
“Neither of you has had a full night of sleep in 30 years!” This time Dajan let her emotions out and tried to stalk right up to them. Still unused to walking, she missed a step and lost her footing. Instantly, Stan and Ford moved in unison, catching her up by her elbows. She smirked between the two worried faces. “Lightning reflexes and you really don't care if you lose them?”
“Oh, she really is a keeper,” Stan sighed, realizing she’d got him. “It's not that I don't sleep, kid…” Stan said, as if this was a painful confession.
“it's more that… I can't,” Ford finished in the same uneasy tone. “How did you know?”
“You let me read the journals. You haven't slept right since you realized you'd been used. As for Stan, he prowls around like a grumpy old tiger at all hours. If I had to guess--”
“Yeah, yeah, ya little busybody. Until I got the portal working again, I tried every night to bring Ford home. Every night I failed... until finally I didn't. So okay, ended up with a lotta nights walking the floors tryna figure what I did wrong this time. Got used to it. It’s like a habit now. I shut my eyes and my head fills with mad science.”
“Even separated by messed up time space as you two were, you managed a way to stay together.“
The brothers exchanged a glance. That was something they obviously hadn't considered. Their bond as brothers had thinned, frayed, but not even the portal had been able to sever it.
“What did you have in mind?” Ford asked, now a little curious.
“Yoga as a wind down before bed and if nothing else works, I can sing to you both. Of course it's been a long time since either of you went to bed feeling safe, loved, and looked out for. But you have each other again, so we can tell those fears their services are no longer required.” She seemed to have worked out a plan starting from the second she'd awakened curse free.
Stan frowned. “That's a nice thought, kid, but you're not using any magic twinkle woogie on me.”
“I could record Mabel singing if it'd put your mind at ease, but it might be less effective,” Dajan said pensively. “Honestly, I think she deserves a break.” Mabel’s devoted and devout belief that Ford deserved to be happy had powered up the Love God enough for some very impressive magical stunts. But it had been hard on even Mabel’s energy level. She was recovering, but Dajan didn't want to ask more of her this soon. “Just regular singing, promise. Nothing like at the bunker.” where Dajan had combined her siren voice with her banshee voice to save them from a murderous shapeshifter.
“I solemnly swear I am only trying to help,” Dajan said seriously, holding her hand up in a scout promise gesture. “Good food and a good night's sleep is all I want for the two of you.” Her words rang oddly off the trees and Ford’s eyes widened at the realization that she’d just made an Oath. While he'd never been able to study more than gnomes, basic local lore said promises of magical binding were not easily gotten from the fae, which is why Ford having made one for Dajan had so impressed her cousin.
“There’s no need to turn this into a magical invocation… l-l-Dajan,” Ford said gently, picking up the hiking stick and handing it back, hoping Dajan saw the concern in his eyes. “We’re just stubborn and set in our ways.”
Dajan regarded the brothers for a long, pensive moment. “Stan said no magic on him. Neither of you ever said no magic on me.”
Ford winced and said, “All right. I'll try. Just… Nothing drastic… Please.” Ford had been warned about magic backfire in the undermarket. Even when magic worked properly it could still be tough to endure. “Stanley? Please. Wouldn't you like to wake up well rested?”
Stanley spotted the pleading in his brother’s eyes, and the determination in the girl’s. It was difficult to think of her as anything else even though they were now nearly the same age. She still looked younger. He raised a brow at Ford, meaning he'd be expecting an explanation later. “All right. We'll give you a week to get us back to sleepin’ at night.” Though he'd agreed, his expression remained dubious.
“Excellent!” Dajan gave a one armed hug and a kiss on the cheek to Stanley and the same to Ford, before she made her wobbly way back into the house. “No caffeine after 2 pm, and no tanking up extra because of the limit!” she called before letting the door close.
Dajan ordered in ingredients that Soos eagerly picked up from the store and brought back to the shack. By late afternoon there was an enormous pot of chicken tortilla soup bubbling away on the stove, filling the house with a warm, inviting aroma. Fresh corn bread with jack cheese and jalapeños baked in was keeping warm on the stove top.
The Shack closed for the day and Dajan called the brothers to dinner. Soos joined them. They all fell to eating quickly and quietly. Dajan watched the faces, gratified to see they all closed their eyes to savor each bite. Soos asked if Dajan had convinced his abuelita to part with her secret family recipe.
Not wanting to be too restrictive, Dajan served each a beer with dinner. A little research had told her Tecate went well with the hearty soup.
Stan glanced away awkwardly and put a hand on Dajan’s shoulder. “That was really good. Our own Ma would be glad somebody's feeding us. Thanks, kid.”
“Cinnamon bread pudding in the oven for dessert. And whipped cream for on top. Good for breakfast, too. “
“Yer spoilin’ us, kid,” Stan protested, but there was no sincere complaint. In fact he was smiling widely and helped his brother bring plates to the sink. Stan let out a window rattling belch, causing the two of them to pause, then double over laughing like ten year olds.
After a moment, they set to washing the dishes in what looked like an old routine being dusted off. They muttered back and forth to each other.
“That is the whole point,” Dajan insisted, smiling warmly at the familial scene. “Life has been hard on you, so it's only right we balance it out. See you in the yard for yoga in an hour. Wear something comfortable and nonrestrictive.”
Ford gave an enthusiastic nod. Stan grumbled when his brother elbowed him, but agreed as well.
That hour later found Dajan in her yoga pants and a tank top. The brothers, once again, had opted for variations of the same outfit: all black; their stealth outfits. Dajan took them through a very short set of poses, beginning with mountain pose, going through tree pose, and ending with the plank. She could hear their breathing evening out under Stanley's griping about hard labor. “Well done, guys. About ready to turn in now?”
The twins had to admit they were feeling less wound up than usual for later in the evening.
“Cool showers before you are ready to try sleeping, and a cup of tea with milk. Stan, give us a shout if you feel like you need sung to.” Dajan continued her yoga routine without another word. Ford returned to the house long enough to get a book to read. He settled on the back porch, occasionally glancing at Dajan to make sure that she was still there. Once she noticed Ford yawning, she got to her feet and ruffled his hair, beaming as he leaned into her touch. “Meet you in the guest room.”
Dajan found Stan in front of the TV, watching one of the c-grade horror movies that seemed to always be playing. “How you feeling?”
“Good, Kid. Haven't had a meal like that since I can't remember when. Don't think you'll need to sing me to sleep, though. Waste of time, even.”
“Okay. You can laugh at me for trying,” Dajan insisted.
“It's your dime,” Stanley replied, making a cursory complaint as Dajan took the remote and turned off the TV. Stan accepted the pillow and blanket she offered him, and settled back, glowering a playful challenge at Dajan.
The song she chose wasn't exactly a lullaby. But Dajan pitched her voice soft and chose a smoky alto. She closed her eyes and let the familiar tune play off her lips:
When you're down and troubled
And you need some love and care
And nothing, nothing is going right
Close your eyes and think of me
And soon I will be there
To brighten up even your darkest night
Ford quietly came back into the house and hovered just outside the doorway, watching Stanley blink slowly. Dajan was winning. Stanley's determination to be stubborn was not equal to her gentle tune.
You just call out my name
And you know wherever I am
I'll come running, to see you again
Winter, spring, summer or fall
All you have to do is call
And I'll be there
You've got a friend…
Stanley let out one huge snore, then fell still with the faintest smile on his lips.
Moving carefully, Dajan lifted Stan and, careful of her still-uncertain legs, carried him to his own bed, tucking him in. She let the happy thought flow through her that her friend would sleep well, and the pixie in her allowed her to glide to the hallway and into Ford’s waiting arms. He was still awkward around her with other people around. When they were alone, he was like a teen with a crush. His arms made a strong, yet gentle circle around her; that happiness of having her close, with just the tiniest bit of fear something might come take her away again. “There. He's sleeping like a baby.”
“He is.” Ford gazed up at her. “You're a miracle worker.”
Dajan smirked. “Not a miracle, exactly. Told you. That’s what my magic is good for, Dr. Empirical Evidence. You're going to have to get used to believing.”
“I suppose I am,” Ford admitted with a smile equal parts sheepish and wry. “Given past experiences and errors, I hope you'll be patient with me?”
“As long as there are stars.”
Ford’s smile went soft and dreamy and he said nothing for the few steps it took them to get to the room Dajan had been staying since Labor Day weekend.
Dajan loved these moments, when his emotions overcame his cautious tendencies. He was handsome already, but these moments, with his guard down and his heart on his sleeve? They made her want to fight gremloblins for him. For now, she'd fight insomnia.
“I believe I forget to breathe when you say things like that. ”
Dajan carefully opened the third journal to one of the pages she'd stuck a Post it note. Visible only under black light (or the eyes of a half human faerie melange) were Ford’s anguished and desperate scribblings: “CAN'T SLEEP!” over and over. Each one had a yellow note beneath, handwritten by Dajan. “You can sleep. You are safe. You are loved. I am here. We are here. ” She handed the book over, without speaking.
Ford’s eyes darted briefly to hers, then dropped to read the handwritten additions. When he looked up at Dajan again, his eyes were shining. “How…”
Dajan looked up through her eyelashes and kissed him gently. “Home is where the heart is,” she murmured, touching his chest where his medallion had once again become a tattoo. “you chose to make me the light in your window… ”
Ford’s touched reaction was written all over his face. Dipper had discovered the UV ink but was only a child. That Dajan had run across some of his worst pain and added counteractive notations meant a great deal to him. That she considered his quest to rescue her a choice to make her his home made his breath catch in his throat. “I've never met anyone like you. It may seem a small gesture but it means well, everything. It's like you tried to reach through time to reassure me.”
“I can't stand to see you hurting.”
“Truth be told,” Ford admitted in a wondering voice, shaking his head, “I expected to grow old with nothing but my research to keep me company. I convinced myself that and having my brother back was enough. How deluded I've been.”
The tender moment was soon replaced by frustration. “Ugh, this has become unwieldy.” Ford’s frustrated voice sounded like Stan’s. “I just want to get my arms around you and… well, not much in the way of space in here.”
“I've an idea about handling that problem. Tomorrow,” Dajan suggested. To handle it now would undo the relaxed moment. But she did drape herself halfway off her twin bed to rest her head on his chest. His sigh vibrated through her. “Sleep fast, Ford.”
Ford leaned down to kiss Dajan’s forehead and whispered “You've made sure I will.” He couldn't hold Dajan as he'd like in current quarters, but he could hold his Journal with her notations. He was sleeping contentedly in minutes.
Whether it stuck remained to be seen, but Dajan curled nearest to Ford as circumstances would permit. Content with one night’s progress, and confident she could keep it up at least one more night, Dajan closed her eyes. As much as I love waking to him gazing at me, knowing he slept through the night is worth more. With that happy thought, Dajan soon followed Ford into sleep.
The Mystery Shack had its first almost silent night with Dajan under the roof--Stan’s snoring notwithstanding.