Chapter Text
Stan: You’re losing your mind…
*When Stan had said those words into the mirror just months prior, he had no idea just how true they were…*
***
*When Ford had stepped down from that portal he had wanted nothing more than to knock Stan upside the head for his foolishness. To make him understand the ramifications of what he had just done. What he just COST him. But as he approaches Stan, something makes him stop short. Stan… seems off. He doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t greet him. Doesn’t try to defend his actions. Nothing. Instead he just… stares. He stares at Ford like a dying man seeing god. With wide eyes, his arms limp at his sides, his mouth slightly parted. Dumbstruck. He mutters unintelligibly, something about his tone taking ford aback. It almost takes away his desire to punch him… almost. He begins to rear back his fist, but is cut off by Stan finally managing to sputter.*
Stan: I… it’s really you?…
*Stan… can’t believe his eyes. Ford’s here. After all these years he’s really… no… this is all just a cruel joke, isn’t it? A dream? He’s standing right there yet it still all feels to good to be true. Did he actually do something right? He can’t bring himself to get his hopes up. Because as soon as he does the rug will be pulled out from under him. It always is. He can’t really be…?*
Stan: You’re… here-
*he’s cut off by the impact of a six fingered fist with his face. CRUNCH! He reels back, yelping in pain as he holds a hand over his now throbbing nose, turning away and hunching in on himself instinctively. After the initial surge of pain finally passes he shakily pulls his hand away to see the pool of blood that had poured into it. That hurt… that… actually hurt… He felt it. That means it has to be real! He’s really home! Forty years of pain and agony and grief. Just like that it’s over. He had been holding on out of sheer necessity for so long. He can finally let go. He hears detached, relieved laughter escaping him as it slowly becomes more unhinged. Something twisted buzzes within him. It hurt so much. And yet he’s positively giddy as the thick tears begin to pour down his bloodied face. He doesn’t even see Ford’s angered expression melting into confusion and slight horror, as he instinctively steps back, his rage slowly being replaced by bewilderment.*
Ford: Wh-
Stan: You’re really here… I… I did it… after all these years… th-thirty… heck f-forty- forty y-years…
*Stan laughs hysterically, his hands in his hair in overwhelm. But as quickly as it had come, the euphoria rising within him seems to come crashing down, replaced by a burning grief. He feels his legs suddenly give out from under him, knocked down by the awful weight. He breathes heavily, landing on all four trembling limbs like an animal. His whole body shakes with low, bitter laughter, which slowly begin to dissolve into sobs, though his twisted grin never fades.*
Stan: I… I’m so… so sorry… I’m so…
*He suddenly cries out in anguish. He struggles to breathe, hyperventilating, gasping for air in between now violent cries.*
Stan: I’M SO SORRY!
*meanwhile, Ford looks mortified. He doesn’t know what to say. There had been a time when he wanted nothing more than for Stan to grovel at his feet, begging for his forgiveness. But now it just feels wrong… it’s painful to watch. It doesn’t bring him the satisfaction he had hoped for. Just a chilling sense of dread. It’s an act. He’s not actually… crying?… is he?… Ford stutters softly, unsure what else to do.*
Ford: S-Stan…
*Stan doesn’t seem to hear him, only curling in on himself, holding his hands over his ears. Pained cries tear through his throat in utter distress, as he feels something break within him, like a dam that had just barely been holding back a torrent. It hurts. He hears voices in the back of his head, shouting at him, accusing him. He deserves this pain. He deserves to SUFFER for what he did. He deserves to be alone. But he CAN’T be alone. Not another second! He’s been alone for so long! Alone alone aLONE ALONE ALONE IT’S SO DARK IT’S SO COLD HE CAN’T BE ALONE- suddenly, the screams berating him are cut off by his twin’s voice*
Ford: Stanley!
*Stan looks up at his twin, who stares at him in horror. But all he sees is his saving grace. He’s here now, now everything has to be alright, right?! He can make this stop, he won’t be alone anymore! He CAN’T! He fixed it, he won’t leave him again! The moment he left before it all went wrong! Every awful traumatic thing that happened, happened as a result of him screwing up and losing Ford! He was the only thing standing between Stan and those decades of torment! He was the only thing he ever HAD! He wouldn’t send him back to that living HECK, right?! He can’t leave him, he can’t leave him, he cAN’T LEAVE HIM!! Stan suddenly pushes himself clumsily to his feet, and before Ford can back away, grabs his jacket like a vice. And he finds his own wobbling voice joining the chorus of screams*
Stan: Don’t leave me, I didn’t mean to, don’t leave me, don’t leave me, dON’T LEAVE ME, DON’T LEAVE ME, DON’T LEAVE ME-
*ford watches, horrified as his twin repeats this over and over, wearing a manic grin all the while. He grips on to Ford’s jacket so tight his knuckles turn white and his fists shake with the excess force. It’s unnatural, not too mention it looks painful. But Stan doesn’t seem to care, too focused on Ford.*
Ford: Woah, woah, Stanley, calm down! What’s gotten into you?!
Stan: I’M SORRY, I DIDN’T MEAN TO! IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, I WAS ALL ALONE, ALL ALONE, ALL ALONE, PLEASE-
Ford: Stan, slow down! Stop screaming!
*Stan doesn’t listen, only continuing to sob*
Stan: DON’T LEAVE ME, DON’T LEAVE ME, DON’T LEAVE ME-
*Ford hesitates. Finally, unable to take another second of the grating cries, he blurts out*
Ford: I won’t! I won’t, ok, just please calm down!
*Stan goes silent, staring at him with desperate, crazed eyes, and Ford, just wanting this to be over, decides to run with it*
Ford: I won’t, I… I’m not going to leave… it’s alright…
*And it works. With these words Stan hears the screaming slowly dying out, seemingly satiated. And as the quiet sets in and he looks at his brother- HIS brother- darkness begins to tinge his vision. He suddenly feels very weak. And without a second thought he lets himself collapse into Ford’s arms, Ford yelping as he catches him. And as he sinks slightly into his twin’s chest, he feels something he hasn’t felt in years. Comfort. He never wants him to go away. A fuzzy feeling grows in his head. Beckoning him to drown in the sleep that it brings. When was the last time he slept again?… heck, when was the last time he consumed anything other than coffee?… not since he got all the journals… how long was that?… he doesn’t remember. Nor does he particularly care to. He just holds onto Ford. Ford. He’s home. He’s home.*
Ford: S-Stanley?! Wh-
Stan: So tired…
*Ford finds he has no response to this. He just gapes as Stan repeats himself one more time*
Stan: So… tired…
*Ford finally mutters the first thing that comes to his mind*
Ford: Then sleep.
Stan: But… you just got back… just got you back… please…
*Ford hesitates, just wanting this to end*
Ford: I-I’m not going anywhere.
*Stan mutters weakly, seemingly barely hanging onto consciousness*
Stan: Promise?…
Ford: I… sure?…
*Stan, apparently satisfied with this answer, slowly goes slack against him. Ford gasps softly before he hears soft snoring, and feels the trembling hands that had been clinging to him go limp… what in blazes just happened? He gently pulls Stan up by the shoulders, as if trying to get a closer look. But Stan doesn’t stir, limp as a rag doll. Before he can react to this, however, a prepubescent voice cries out*
Dipper: Will someone please tell me WHAT IS GOING ON??!