Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Stan didn't know how long he'd been down in that lab, trying again and again and again to get this horrible machine to turn back on and bring his brother back. When he first heard the phone ring, he thought it might just be the exhaustion finally getting to him. It went on for a minute before he realized it was actually coming from a phone in the control room and not his imagination.

He hesitated for a second before he picked it up. Maybe he should just let it ring. What was he supposed to say to the person on the other line? "Uh, sorry, Ford's not here. He fell through a space portal thingy." But what if the person on the other end could help him fix this?

In the end, Stan went with his gut and picked up the phone. He was infinitely grateful he did when he recognized the voice on the other end.

"Oh, thank goodness. I wasn't sure it would even work!"

"...Ford?"

It was Fiddleford's idea, back when they were first preparing to test the portal. They should create some sort of communication device to be able to stay in touch with whoever went through, just in case the safety line was severed. It was like a cross between a walkie talkie and those new cellular phones Fiddleford occasionally got excited about. It sent a signal from the portable phone to a receiver in the portal's ring itself, which was in turn wired into a special landline phone in the control console.

Stanford never had a chance to test it. The test dummy they first sent through wouldn't be able to operate a phone, and then McGucket had quit the project after being partially pulled in. It was by sheer chance that Ford had the portable unit on him when he fell through the portal himself.

He'd been hiding out with the other refugees in the Nightmare Realm when he'd stuck his hands into the pockets of his coat as a familiar soothing gesture and felt the blocky shape of the portable phone.

"What is that?" The refugee who had given him his universal translator asked when he pulled it out.

"A communication device." Ford said hollowly. "We— I created it to be able to communicate with my home dimension from the other side of the portal." His face fell. " Home . Wh-what are the odds that I'll ever be able to return?"

"Slim to none." The refugee said with a sympathetic grimace. "Unless… Does that communication device actually work?"

Ford looked down at the phone, and it felt like it was a million miles away. "I-I'm not sure. There was never a chance to test it." He pushed the call button, and with each ring, his scooped-out lack of feeling was replaced with the buzz of anticipation. But it just kept ringing and ringing and ringing, until the anticipation began to morph into bitter disappointment. He should have known better than to hope.

Then, at the last second, someone picked up.

"Oh, thank goodness. I wasn't sure it would even work!"

"...Ford?" Stanley's voice crackled through the other end of the line. 

Ford's heart rose into his throat. Of course it was Stanley on the other end. Who else had he been expecting? A potent mixture of emotions warred in his head. Relief at hearing from someone he knew back in his home dimension. Anger as he remembered he wouldn't even be in this mess if Stanley had just done what he was told. Guilt as he remembered Stan's scream when he was knocked back into the burning sigil welded into the side of the console. 

What was he even supposed to say?

"Ford, is that you?" Stan repeated when there wasn’t an immediate response. What if he was mistaken and that wasn’t his brother’s voice? "Please, please Ford, I'm sorry! I-I didn't know what was happening, I didn't know what to do, I'm sorry—"

"Stanley, Stanley calm down!" Ford’s voice finally responded. "It's me! I-I'm alive, for now."

Stan’s blood ran cold. For now? As in he might not be soon? What kind of danger had he gotten his brother into? "Are you hurt!?"

"No," Ford assured his brother, "but the place I'm in isn't safe. I'm hiding in the home of my worst enemy, Bill Cipher."

Stan didn’t know what that even meant, all he knew was his brother was in danger and it was his fault. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I promise, I’ll bring you home, I’ll get that portal working again—”

“No!” Ford cut him off. “That’s exactly what Bill wants!” 

That finally got through Stan’s hysterics. “Who the heck is Bill? What happened to you? Where are you?” What can I do to fix this?

He heard a heavy sigh crackle through the line before Ford answered. “It’s a lot to explain, Stanley. And to be frank, I don’t know if I have the energy to explain it under the circumstances. Suffice to say, Bill is dangerous.”

“Yeah, well so am I!” Stan bit back, clutching the receiver in his hands so tightly it creaked. “Where do I find this jerk? I’m gonna make him regret ever messing with you.”

In spite of everything, Ford actually snorted. “I appreciate the sentiment, but it’s impossible. Bill’s an interdimensional being. He tricked me into building that portal to give himself a doorway into our world. The only way you could ever gain access to him would be by giving him exactly what he wants.” He heard a bitter chuckle over the phone. “I suppose it’s fitting punishment that I fell through.”

“Stanford, I am so, so sorry—”

“No, Stan. That , at least, was an accident. You don’t need to keep apologizing for that .”

Stan stiffened. “As opposed to what? Your science fair experiment? That was an accident, genius!”

“You’re not seriously still trying to convince me of that lie after all these years!” 

“I’m not lying!”

“Then why didn’t you tell me—?” Ford sighed heavily again and changed the subject. “No, it’s hardly relevant to what’s happening now. We were children. If I want you to apologize to me for anything, it’s refusing to take my journal and go when you had the chance. I never wanted to get you involved in all of this.”

Stan swallowed. He’d assumed Ford’s ‘Take this and get as far away as possible’ was just an overly elaborate way of saying he wanted Stan out of his life forever, but wanting to protect his brother from this supposedly dangerous Bill was more understandable. It still hurt, but less. 

“Ok. Fine. I’m sorry I didn’t take your stupid book when you asked and started a fight instead.”

Ford’s laugh sounded almost like a sob over the phone. “I suppose that’s the best I can expect from you.”

“No, I’m sorry, I really am.” Stan said more sincerely. “Just… what do you want me to do , Ford? How can I make this right?”

Ford hesitated before he finally answered. “I need you to dismantle the portal.”

“What? Then how are you supposed to get home?”

“... I’m not.”

It took Stan a moment to process what his brother had just said. “...No. No! I’m not just leaving you out there to die!”

“You asked me what I want you to do, and this is it! Dismantle the portal, hide my last journal somewhere no one will ever find it, and then forget about me! Don’t worry, I have no intention of dying without taking Bill down with me.”

“‘Forget about you’, are you kidding? That’s not happening, ever! I’ll figure out how to fix this portal all on my own if I have to!”

"Stanley, listen to me for once in your life! If you open that portal, Bill Cipher will come through and destroy the entire universe! There will be no home for me to come back to ."

"Oh yeah, then why didn't he come through when it was open just now?"

It took a moment for Ford to come up with an answer. "Maybe he was waiting to catch me. Maybe it can only accept one being through it at a time."

"Meaning, you don't know."

"What I do know is that it's too dangerous to risk turning on again!"

"But there's—"

"Stanley, please. I… I'm never going to see you again. I'll probably never get to speak to you again. I don't want to argue anymore. I have some things I need to say to you."

"Ford, c'mon, don't—"

"I was mad at you for so long. Part of me still is. But part of me always hoped that something would change, I don't really know what, and we'd be friends again. I'm sorry, I never meant for it to end like this.”

“— Nothing’s ending you jerk, we’re gonna figure this out, if you’d just—”

“I never should have asked you to come.”

“—You can’t just give up on me like this—”

“But I am glad I happened to have this phone on me, so we can at least have some closure.”

“—Don’t you dare say goodbye to me—”

“Goodbye, Stanley. I love you.”

Click.

“Ford? Stanford!” Stan screamed into his receiver. There was no answer.

How? How could Ford just end it like that? 

How could he just give up when he had a lifeline to home? 

How could he think just cutting Stan off like that wouldn’t make him want to reactivate the portal even more?

Stan cried for a good ten minutes before he noticed there was a call button on his end too.

The refugees were thankfully very sympathetic to Ford as he did his best to hide the fact that he was crying his eyes out. After a few minutes, one of the strange creatures patted him on the head, and when he looked up at them, he remembered what they had said to him earlier.

“‘Unless’... you said ‘unless’.” He rasped, his voice hoarse from crying. “My chances of ever going home are slim to none, unless what?”

The creature stared up at him with big, sad eyes. “This communication device has a signal back to your home dimension. If you were to find a fully functional interdimensional portal that can open to more than just pre-set waypoints, you could theoretically use that signal to send yourself home. But that sort of thing is incredibly rare because it’s so dangerous. It’s like your chances went from one in a trillion to one in a million. Still incredibly unlikely, but orders of magnitude more likely than before. But tell me, is it true, what you said? The demon triangle tricked you into building a portal for it?”

Ford hung his head in shame. “Yes, it’s true.”

The refugees all gave scandalized gasps. 

“In that case, good luck finding anyone willing to even let you near their portal.”

“But he tricked me!” Ford protested. “I never would have helped him if I’d known his true nature. I want nothing more than to destroy him after what he’s done to me!”

“If only such a thing were possible.” The lead refugee smiled sadly. “I believe you are sincere in your desire, but the portal keepers across the dimensions likely still won’t trust you. The demon has the power to control any who open themselves up to it , after all.”

Ford rubbed at a newly scabbed over stab wound on his left forearm. “Yes, I’m well aware. Still, there must be someone—”

He was interrupted by a soft vibration accompanied by what sounded suspiciously like a banjo being plucked. His phone was ringing.

Not wanting the sound to alert one of Bill’s wandering minions of their location, he answered it right away.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily!” Stan roared over the line.

Ford briefly wondered why they’d thought it was a good way to make calls possible from both ends of the phone, but of course, when they’d been designing this as a safety feature for future expeditions into the portal, it had made perfect sense. They never would have guessed the whole endeavor was doomed from the start, much less that someone would ever be trapped on the other side.

“Stanley, I swear my intention isn’t to get rid of you, but your desire to hold on to this false hope that I might return is only going to make things worse!”

“It’s only false hope if you give up, genius! C-come on, between the two of us, we can figure this out! I may not be a big fancy scientist like you, but you know I’m stubborn. I’m not gonna give up on you, not ever!”

Ford did know that. That was the problem. He belatedly realized that trying to get Stanley to forget about him and move on was even more hopeless than his chances of finding a way home. So how could he possibly convince Stan to dismantle the portal?

“There… may be another way.”

“You’re kidding. There’s no way you found a ticket home in the ten minutes since you hung up on me.”

“I’m not alone, there is a crew of asteroid miners here who are also hiding from Bill. They told me I may be able to find someone who built a working portal and trace the signal from this communication device back to our home dimension.” It was a long shot, but if he could just give Stanley some hope to hold on to, maybe that would be enough to get him to stop.

“And how are you going to find something like that?” Stan asked skeptically.

“I’ll have to do a lot of searching. But I’m sure I’ll come across something in my quest to destroy Bill. I’ll travel from dimension to dimension learning what I can about him and his weaknesses until I find a way to end him once and for all.” He said with conviction, “There’s a high probability I’ll find a suitable portal along my journey.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The probability wasn’t high at all, according to his new compatriots, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to look, and if that was enough to reassure Stan, then all the better for it.

“So what, you’re going to go on some dangerous quest to kill Bill and hopefully find a way back home along the way. And I’m supposed to just, what, twiddle my thumbs and hope you find a way back?”

“You’re supposed to dismantle the portal and hide my last journal so Bill can’t use it to trick anyone else!”

“I’m just saying, it’d be nice to have a back up, just in case.”

“The back up you’re suggesting will destroy the world!”

“It seems to me like this Bill guy needs some specific circumstances to destroy the world, so if we can just figure out what those circumstances are and make sure they don’t happen, you could help me turn this thing back on and get you home way faster!”

“Stanley, I cannot emphasize enough, you should under absolutely NO circumstances turn that portal back on.”

So of course Stan was working on turning that portal back on.

Any time Ford asked about it when he called, Stan would assure his brother that yes, he’d dismantled the portal and hidden the last journal. He was an experienced liar, and it was especially easy when he was doing it over the phone to his brother who wasn’t even in this dimension anymore. Lying to his brother about something that was obviously so important to him definitely didn’t keep him up at night. It was going to be a surprise. Ford was going to love it.

Unfortunately the fact that the portal was supposed to be a surprise meant he couldn’t get any help from Ford on it. He’d made the mistake of trying to casually ask where the second journal was hidden once, and after almost an hour long tirade of how the portal would destroy the world, and how even the journals themselves were dangerous, especially the second one, as it detailed how to summon Bill, Stan had taken an additional hour just to convince Ford that no, of course he wasn’t actually trying to rebuild the portal or find the other journals, Stan had just been curious, it wasn’t a serious question.

Any questions about interdimensional physics were met with similar suspicion. 

“Seriously Ford, I gotta go. Your house doesn’t pay for itself.” Stan wrapped up after one particularly long rant.

“My house? What?”

“Where do you think I’m calling from, genius?”

“O-oh! Of course, of course.” Ford stammered. “... Out of curiosity, how are you paying the mortgage and utilities?”

“Uh, probably best you don’t know.”

“Stan, what are you doing!?”

“Don’t worry, it’s not anything dangerous or gross!” Stan fiddled with the phone cord for a moment before answering. “I’m giving tours of your house, alright? The local yokels are really curious about what you got up to out here.”

“ Tours of my house , are you crazy?”

“OK, not your whole house! Just the two main floor labs. I’m not stupid enough to bring anyone down to the basement and I’m not showing them your bedroom closet or anything. Now seriously, I need to go before the first tour gets here, or they will start trying to look through your closets.”

“Fine. But we’re not done talking about this!”

Despite the fact that he’d just been reprimanded, Stan couldn’t help but smile as he hung up. At least they were talking again. The irony of the fact that they were communicating more in the past few months than over the last 12 years, and they weren’t even in the same dimension anymore, was not lost on him.

And as the months wore on, they talked a lot. Not just about how Stan was paying the mortgage, but about Ford’s interdimensional travels, and about their childhood. They even talked about the science fair project. Ford still didn’t seem convinced it was entirely an accident, but he at least accepted that Stan hadn’t meant to sabotage Ford’s future. He was now under the impression that it had just been Stan being a stupid teenager and not thinking his actions through. Stan in turn learned how Ford had been completely despondent after the one-two punch of being rejected by West Coast Tech and his brother being kicked out. He’d sunk into a deep depression, and probably would have failed their senior year if he hadn’t already had perfect grades before the last month of school. So not only had he missed his scholarship to West Coast Tech, but also any scholarships to other well respected universities. He’d ended up going to some cheap nowhere school called Backupsmore. 

This bumped up against their only topic that was really off-limits on these calls: the 12 years they’d spent apart. Stan didn’t want to talk about his time as a homeless grifter, and any talk about Ford’s time at Backupsmore or his research of Gravity Falls always strayed too close to talking about the portal and the journals, which always got Ford to clam up. 

Well, those weren’t the only off-limits topics, but did it really count as off-limits if Ford didn’t know about it in the first place? Of course Stan wasn’t going to tell Ford he’d faked his death and stolen his brother’s identity. This was the easiest way to do it, honestly. If Ford just disappeared for six months, people would get suspicious, and after enough time, they’d probably declare him dead. In addition to making a whole mess to clear up once Ford returned, that was going to be a huge issue because the house was deeded to Ford. If Stan lost this house, he’d lose not just the portal, but his only form of communication with his brother, the only way he knew Ford was still alive. On the other hand, no one would notice or care if Stan dropped off the face of the earth, and he was used to living under a false identity. But, Stan knew his brother would probably make a huge fuss about it, so it was better just not to bring it up. 

What Ford didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Just like the portal. 

Ford knew Stan was still trying to rebuild that portal. The way he kept on “casually” asking about the journals’ locations and suddenly being curious about advanced physics and engineering concepts, it was obvious. But no matter how many times he lectured his brother about why Bill was so dangerous and how the portal would destroy the universe, Stan would always insist that he had dismantled the portal as requested. And yet, these questions kept cropping up. The worst part was, Ford couldn’t even really be mad about it because if he was being honest with himself, he’d do the exact same thing if he were in Stanley’s shoes. 

So it was a race to try and find a way to destroy Bill before Stan got the portal working again. Ford had briefly considered just feeding Stanley false information to get the portal to self-destruct instead of turn on, but he had a bad feeling that would only make things worse. 

Unfortunately, his progress was slow. Months dragged on into years, and while he was learning more about Bill and interdimensional travel, none of it brought him closer to learning how to defeat his foe. What’s more, his old deal with Bill was still active. Any time he felt he was getting close to something, he’d wake to find his research destroyed and his arms covered in triangular cuts. 

This had also completely sabotaged his first and so far only chance at using an interdimensional portal that could read the signal on his phone. He’d tried so hard to stay awake from the moment he heard about the Bitfininte hub, but they had a holding room before the entrance where a spell forced any potential travelers to sleep. Bill of course couldn’t resist a chance at their portal, and had possessed Ford the second he fell asleep. Thankfully the holding room worked as intended, and Bill didn’t even get close, but Ford was arrested for his trouble. 

Through all these hardships, the ability to call and hear his brother’s voice was a lifeline. As much as he worried that this lifeline might be fueling Stan on to fix the unstable portal, it was fueling his own will to go on too. There had been desperate moments when he’d considered throwing the phone away (destroying it proved to be nigh impossible. Fiddleford had designed it to be virtually indestructible) but he could never bring himself to. As much as he tried to convince himself that if he lost the phone, he would carry on, because he had to, that was never enough to get him to drop it into the abyss, or throw it into the volcano, or even simply leave it in the hotel room when he checked out. Because despite everything, he missed Stanley, and this was his one remaining connection to his brother.

Ford had three belongings he would risk his life for. The first was his quantum destabilizer, which was currently just a rough frame and some theoretical blueprints he was still working on. The second was the phone, his ticket home once he found a stable portal that could read its signal. The third was a small, tattered photo of two sunburnt boys which admittedly served no purpose. (Well, it served the same purpose as the phone, really. It was another connection to his home.)

Ford still remembered the first time he’d tried to call and Stanley hadn’t picked up. 

He’d had a full on panic attack. What if the phone was broken? What if it never worked again? Worse, what if something had happened to Stan? What if Stan had tried to turn the portal on and it had destabilized and his entire home dimension was nothing but dust under Bill’s metaphorical boot? He’d just about jumped out of his skin when the phone rang a few hours later.

“Hey Ford, sorry, I just realized it’d been a while since I last called, you didn’t try to call earlier today, did you?”

Today was a relative term, especially since he’d been in the Do-Over Dimension at the time. But it hadn’t been that long since his failed attempt to call, so he assumed it was earlier in the day Stan was referring to. “Y-yes, I called earlier. What—where were you? Why didn’t you answer? I-I thought—”

“I know, I know, relax. I was just at the doctor’s.”

“The doctor’s!? Why?”

“Uh, apparently spending all this time down here in the basement isn’t good for me. My burn got infected.”

“Your burn…” Ford paled. “You don’t mean the one on your shoulder from our fight, do you?” Stan’s refusal to answer was confirmation enough. “Stanley, that was months ago! You didn’t go have a doctor look at that earlier?”

“With what money, poindexter? I just put some aloe vera on it and hoped it would get better on its own. But, uh, the skin started turning weird colors around it lately and I almost passed out giving a tour, so I figured I’d splurge and go get it checked out.”

“...What did the doctor say?” Ford asked apprehensively.

“It’ll be fine as long as I take the antibiotics he prescribed me. He said it’s gonna leave a nasty scar, but that was gonna happen anyway so no big deal. But apparently he could tell I'd been spending a lot of time in the basement just from my skin or something? He told me I've got to limit my time down here."

"But —" Ford started to protest before cutting himself off. He didn't want Stan to endanger his health over this, but at the same time, the thought of calling in and getting no answer terrified him. Even if he logically knew it was for Stan's health, that couldn't stop his paranoia from latching on to the possibility that his lifeline home had been severed.

"No, nevermind, you need to take care of yourself." Ford corrected himself.

"I've gotta take care of you too."

"You really don't."

"Yes, I do! Look, I know I can't do anything to actually help you out there, but don't try and pretend like you're not scared. I know I would be too. And I would have given anything to be able to call and talk to you when I was scared and on my own."

"You could have. There's this amazing new invention called the telephone."

"Ha. Ha. You know what I mean. … I actually did call you, a couple of times."

"Wait, what?"

"I always chickened out and hung up before I could say anything."

"That was you? I thought you were a ghost!"

Stan's laugh crackled through the receiver. "Only you would assume it was a ghost and not a prank call."

Ford laughed along with him for a moment. "... I wish you had said something though."

"Tch, come on Ford, let's not kid ourselves. I was the last person you wanted to hear from."

"No! I would have… ok, I admit, I probably would have been mad at first. But I would have gotten over it, like we have now. And I think I would have been happier, in the end."

Stan hummed skeptically. "The only reason you 'got over it' this time is because we both thought it was the last time we'd ever speak to each other."

Ford didn't reply right away. Really, every time he called might be the last time. Life on the other side of the portal was dangerous, and he'd already had some close calls at that point.

"I suppose we'll never know for certain." He finally said.

"Yeah, well, the point I was just trying to make before we got off track was: I'm gonna do whatever I can to be here for you, because it's literally the only thing I can do to help you right now. But I can't be in the basement 24/7 anymore, so I'll figure something out."

Chapter Text

It had taken a while, but Ford eventually got used to calling and getting no answer every once in a while. Anxiety would always grip his heart until Stan eventually called back, but it was ok. He knew Stan couldn't carry the phone around with him like Ford could.

He hoped that his brother would pick up today, he had some good news to share.

"Hey Ford—"

"Stanley, I just—"

"—I finally got voicemail set up on this thing! So even if I can't pick up right now, you can tell me whatever you want, and you know I'll get back to you as soon as I can like I always do. Leave as long a message as you want, I got the guy who set it up to take off the usual time limit. Just, y'know, not too long. This tape's expensive. Ugh, look who's talking. I'm gonna shut up now."

Ford grinned. It did help just to hear his brother's voice, even if it was just a recording.

"Stan, I'm glad you were able to set up this voicemail. And a little surprised, to be honest. Fiddleford custom built this phone, I didn't think it would be compatible with a normal voicemail system. But I suppose technology has advanced enough to catch up with his cutting edge work in the past few years. I'm calling from Lottocron 9, it's a gambling dimension. You'd love it here. Of course, I'm just here to get parts for my quantum destabilizer, but I might play a few rounds just for your sake." He sighed. This would be much more fun to talk about with Stan, rather than just a recording. "I know you'll call back as soon as you can."

As expected, his phone rang just a few hours later.

"Stan?"

"There's a freaking gambling dimension!?" 

He laughed, and Stan spent the next hour making his brother go into detail about every possible aspect of the gambling dimension.

"I always hesitate to say 'I wish you were here', but in this particular case—"

"Yeah, no, say it! I wish I was there!"

They both chuckled.

"Oh, uh, before I forget… I had a question about something you mentioned in your voicemail. You said the phone was custom designed by Fiddleford? As in Fiddleford McGucket, the local kook?"

" Local kook , what on earth are you talking about? Fiddleford was my research assistant. It… it can't be the same person, McGucket left Gravity Falls after he quit the project, almost a month before you arrived."

"Ford, how many people can there be in the world named Fiddleford McGucket ? It sounds like a made up name."

"When you say 'local kook'... Is he an eccentric millionaire? I know you'd said computers were becoming popular, did he sell one of his patents?"

"Nope, he literally lives in the dump."

"This can't be right. Why would he have stayed in Gravity Falls? How could this have happened?"

"Yeah, and if he knew you, why hasn't he talked to me about it?" Stan added.

Ford wracked his brain trying to make sense of it. "I can only think of one explanation, but I hope I'm wrong. Just before he quit the project, he'd developed a device that could erase memories. I'd told him to destroy it because it was too dangerous. I always worried what a typo could do. What if he accidentally destroyed his own mind?"

"I'll try to talk to him." Stan assured his brother, "See if I can find out what happened."

Ford hesitated. Did he really want to know?  "If there's anything you can do to help him, please at least try. He was my friend."

Stan sighed. "I'll see what I can do. I think he's the same guy, but I don't think he's the same guy anymore, you know what I mean?"

"I do. That's what I'm afraid of."

For the hundredth time that day, Stan questioned if this was a bad idea. Ford's freaking lab assistant had been here in town the whole time? There was actually someone he could ask for help with the portal who wasn't going to lecture him about how dangerous it was? Oh, and also he was a crazy guy who lived in the dump and had never once mentioned knowing Ford in the years Stan had lived here under his name.

Yeah, something definitely wasn't adding up here.

If this guy was actually a genius like Ford, maybe he knew exactly who Stan really was. What if he was playing dumb because he thought Stan had killed Ford, and he was just waiting to find the right proof so he could go to the cops? What if trying to get help from this guy was just going to get him thrown in prison for the rest of his life, and cut Ford off from the one person who knew what had really happened to him?

Living in the dump for years seemed like a little extreme for a ruse like that though. Maybe this guy really had accidentally erased his own mind like Ford had said.

Well, whatever the case, this guy had worked on the portal, and Stan wasn't about to give up that kind of help. He found McGucket exactly where he'd expected, in the dump.

"Well howdy there! Don't get visitors in these parts much!" The local kook greeted him. Stan couldn’t believe this withered man was only a few years older than him.

"Yeah, it's the freaking dump." Stan answered. "Listen, uh, did you know Stanford Pines?" He raised his hand up, showing off the lack of an extra digit.

"Ain't that you?"

Stan grit his teeth. If he was playing dumb, he was a really good actor. But if he'd known Ford before, he should at least remember Ford's hands, surely?

"Yeah, yeah that's me. But did you know me before?'

"Afore what?"

"Be-before—" Before I took his place, before he became just a voice on the phone. "Before I opened the Mystery Shack. When he— I was still doing science stuff."

"Science stuff, eh? Y'know I'm something of a scientist myself!"

"I know, that's what I'm asking about! Do you remember who you were doing science with?"

"Mmmmnope!"

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. Ok, so this guy wasn't playing dumb, he just really didn't remember anything. Great.

"But if'n ya need a scientist, I'm available for hire!"

Oh. Oh! That might work! Even if he didn't remember working on the portal, this was the same McGucket who had built a pterodactyltron that had nearly destroyed downtown last year. He obviously still knew how to build stuff. Maybe he could help Stan fix the portal.

"Actually, I do need a scientist!"

"Shoot! Then you should hire me! I work for vittles!" 

"That's what I like to hear! When can you start?" 

"I ain't doin' nothin' right now."

"Even better! Come on!"

Stan brought the local kook home with him in his car. He smiled to himself. It had been a while since the Stanleymobile had a smelly homeless person riding inside. He certainly didn't miss it, but it felt right. 

The koot seemed to be enjoying himself. Stan watched him for some hint of recognition as they pulled up to the Mystery Shack, but he didn't show any more familiarity than he had the dozens of other times he'd snuck into a tour.

But when Stan opened up the secret entrance behind the vending machine, McGucket started to squirm uncomfortably.

"You remember this?" Stan asked.

"No, no it don't work no more!" 

Stan's eyes widened. "That's right! It doesn't work anymore. That's why I need you to fix it. To save Ford. You remember Ford?"

"F-f-ford?"

"That's right! Ford, my brother! He's lost, but you can help me find him!"

"He-h-he's sick. Got a sickness."

"Uh, yeah, sure, let's go with that. Anyway, down here is what I need your help with." He took the scientist by the arm to lead him down the stairs.

"No!" McGucket yelped and jumped out of his grasp like he had burned him. Fiddleford held his head in his hands, pulling out what little hair he had left. "I'm not goin' back! I'm not goin' back! I quit! I don't wanna remember, I won't! I'll forget it again! I have to!"

"Whoa, whoa, easy pal!" Stan tried to calm him down, but he fled. He was half way down the driveway by the time Stan got to the front door. This was not going to plan.

So bringing McGucket down to look at the portal hadn't worked. But he was at least someone who Stan could ask about interdimensional physics without immediately raising suspicion. So at least that was a win. He felt like he was making progress much more quickly now. 

After a while he even got confident enough to ask McGucket for help with the whole 'Bill wants to destroy the universe' thing. He threw together all the data he had as best he could and brought it with him to buy his brother's old friend breakfast at the diner one morning.

"So, uh, I got a question."

"You always got lotsa questions." McGucket replied through a mouth full of eggs.

"This one's a little more complicated."

"More complicated than how to properly configure a ring of lasers to spin on an upright circular electromagnetic track at a variable pulse speed?

"Believe it or not, yes." Stan pulled out the notes he'd collected, some his own, some left over from his brother. "So, uh, theoretically, if I wanted to open a portal to another dimension, and the power outputs I got the last time I ran it said that it was unstable, how would I fix that? So it's, y'know, stable instead."

McGucket took the notes and studied them intently. His intent gaze quickly transformed into an intense stare.

"Wh-where are these ideas coming from?" He whispered, his hands shaking. "Wh-wh-who are you working w-with?"

"Uh, it's just, y'know, theoretical." Stan said apprehensively.

Fiddleford picked up an old napkin with a graph sketched on it that Stan had found with the old data readouts. It had looked relevant so he'd thrown it in with everything else.

"I-I wrote this."

Stan raised an eyebrow at him. "You remember that?"

Suddenly McGucket sized him by the collar and pulled him nearly across the whole booth.

"Don't do this! I told you! No, I told him it was too dangerous, and look what happened! He's gone! You're not him!"

"Y-you're right, I'm not him. I'm his brother." Stan whispered back.

"Sh-shoulda listened to me. Now he's gone. Serves him right. Serves him right! No. No, no, it was awful, I wouldn't wish it on anyone. But now he's gone. Shoulda listened to me." He shook Stan. "Should listen to me! Don't do it!"

"I know, I know! You were right!" Stan assured him. “And I know for a fact that Ford wishes he’d listened to you. My brother’s gone, but he’s not dead. He’s just lost. There’s got to be a way to fix the portal so it’s not unstable, so we can bring him back, right?”

McGucket was breathing heavily, like he’d just run a marathon. “I’m not goin’ back! Don’t make me remember, please!”

“You don’t have to go back!” Stan insisted. “I’ll do all the work myself if I have to, but you’re smart! You knew it was unstable! How do I make it not unstable?”

“Don’t make me remember, please!” He repeated.

Stan sat back and rubbed his temples. Why couldn’t anything ever be easy? “I know. I know you don’t wanna remember. But I need you to, OK? For Ford’s sake. You remember him, right? Don’t you want to help him?”

“Serves him right!” 

“... You don’t mean that.”

“I won’t do it!” McGucket stood and made for the exit. “I won’t!”

“Hey c’mon!” Stan called after him, but he was already out the door. 

"Literally. Everything. The houses, the furniture, every living thing, is shaped like an M. And when they speak, they tack an M at the beginning of every word!"

"Yeesh, that must be annoying." Ford could hear barely restrained laughter in his brother's words. He could imagine Stan's grinning face.

"This is by far the most frustrating dimension I've ever visited! The sooner I find that wormhole, the better." 

Ford had come here via a pre-set waypoint on a public transportation portal. Supposedly this dimension was the original home of one of Bill's Henchmaniacs, but that had turned out to be a false lead. Now the next portal out of here didn't open until tomorrow night, but Ford refused to stay a minute longer than he had to, and he was playing hot and cold with his rudimentary wormhole detector. He'd called Stan to vent his frustrations.

"Wait so if everything is an M, how do the toilets work?" Stan was cracking jokes, trying to get his brother to laugh.

"Not very well, I'm afraid."

"C'mon Ford, no need to be M-barassed! I'm sure every visitor has trouble with it."

Ford held back a snort of laughter. Stan heard it anyway.

"There it is!"

"Don't congratulate yourself. I'm just humoring you."

"Oh! Hahaha, good one!"

Ford followed his detector around a corner and made the mistake of making eye contact with one of this world's M shaped denizens.

"Mave a monderful mime!” They waved cheerfully at him from where they were mowing an M into their lawn.

"Meave me malone mor mI'll mreak myour mace!" Ford yelled back.

"Whoa-ho-ho! Salty today, huh?" Stan commented.

"It's this place! Nothing here makes any sense, and not in an intriguing way, it's just stupid ! Why— no, how would a universe like this even come to exist? I hate everything about it. I would rather be anywhere but here. I'd rather be dead!"

"...Ford, don't joke about that."

The scientist sighed. He probably shouldn't have shared that particular train of thought.

"I'm sorry. I promise I don't mean it. I've got a mission to complete, after all."

"Are you really that miserable out there though? That it'd be easier to just…"

"No!" Ford assured his brother. "It is difficult at times, yes. Frustrating, and even dangerous. But it can also be beautiful, and amazing. Mostly it's just lonely ." He pulled out his tattered old photo and looked at the two sunburnt boys. They were so young. "I wish I could see you."

"What, they haven't got mirrors out in the multiverse?" Stan asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Well, yes, they do, but that just raises the question of how similar we even look anymore."

"Well, actually, I have been growing a mustache."

Ford chuckled, trying to imagine it. "I bet you look like dad."

"Ugh. Thanks for that. I'm shaving immediately. What about you? Have you even got a razor out there?"

"I don't need one, actually! I met a pyromancer in dimension 32ñ who taught me how to shave using fire!"

"You're kidding."

"No, it's actually very efficient! You just dunk your head in water to protect yourself from the fire. You apply a specialized oil to the places you want to remove hair and light it, and it's gone in seconds!"

"Where do you even get the oil? Aren't half the dimensions you travel through uninhabited by intelligent life?"

"Well, it's very easy to synthesize. I have this amazing water purifier, effective enough that I can get clean drinking water from my own sweat and urine—"

"Ew! Gross! I do not need to hear about this!"

Ford's train of thought was derailed as his locator began beeping rapidly.

"Ah-ha! Found it! Goodbye, M Dimension!"

"Perfect timing, I was just looking for an excuse to end this conversation." Stan's relief was audible in his voice. "I'll call you later."

“Hey Ford?”

“Ngh… not a good time, Stan.”

“Are you ok!?”

“Fine. I was sleeping, though.”

“Oh, uh, sorry, I’ll call back later.”

He heard Ford’s yawn crackle over the line. “No, no, I’m up now. How are you?”

“Good. I just got a letter. Do, uh, do you want family news?”

Ford hesitated before answering. “... Yes.”

“Shermie’s kid is getting married.”

“Oh! Ok, that’s good.”

“What, you were expecting bad news?”

“Well, the way you phrased it!” Ford sighed, before continuing more quietly. “How… how are mom and dad?”

“Oh, uh… Still kickin’, last I checked.”

“Good.” Ford said, relief clear in his voice. “Do… do they know? It’s been years, I assume I’ve already been declared dead, but did you tell them what happened?”

Stan swallowed. This was getting uncomfortably close to the subject of how he’d stolen Ford’s identity. Better come up with a cover story. “No, I didn’t tell them. I didn’t think they’d believe me.”

“Oh. Yes, that’s… that’s understandable.” He paused before continuing. “How did dad react? I should hope that losing one of his children was enough to… to get him to shape up.”

“Oh, uh, yeah I guess so. I, uh, I talked to him at the funeral, at least.” Stan said. It was technically true, Ford just didn’t know who the fake funeral was for.

“What did he say?”

“Some, uh, some interesting stuff.”

“Interesting good, or interesting bad?”

“Interesting like I didn’t really know how to feel about it.” Stan thought for a moment of how best to phrase this without giving away the fact that he’d faked his own death rather than let everyone think Ford was dead. “He said: ‘Maybe if things had gone differently that night your senior year, then he wouldn’t be in the ground.’ I dunno, it kinda seemed like he might have regretted some stuff. But maybe he was just blaming me.”

“Hmph. He’s stubborn. I’m not surprised he doesn’t want to admit what he did was wrong, even now. As mad as I was, I never wanted you to leave. Not like that, at least.”

“Yeah, Pa’s a real piece of work.” Stan agreed. “I haven’t really talked to him since then, not that that’s a big change from the usual. Ma, on the other hand, she calls me almost as often as you do.”

“Heh. And how is she?”

“Saving up for her retirement. The phone psychic business seems to be picking up with the new millennium coming up. Some whackos are worried about the world ending once the new year ticks over, and even the folks who don’t believe that crap are still worried about the future. So she’s doing good business. Heh, y’know, I was just wondering earlier today what you’d have to say about all this Y2K nonsense.”

All Stan got in response was some light breathing crackling through the receiver. 

“Heh, I didn’t bore you to sleep did I?” More light breathing. “C’mon Ford, you’re gonna wear out the battery or something. Although, come to think of it, if you haven’t run out of batteries for that thing after all these years, I don’t think it’ll suddenly become a problem now. Well, whatever. That’s what I get for calling while you were asleep, huh? Goodnight Poindexter. Stay safe out there. I’ll bring you home soon, I promise.”

“Stanley?” Ford’s voice had a panicked edge to it. 

“Yeah, I’m here. Great timing, actually, I’d just come down to check if you’d left me any messages since my last call.”

“I-I can’t really talk right now—”

“Ford, you’re the one who called me .”

“Can…” He gasped like he was out of breath before continuing. “Can you— you just talk to me right now? I just— just need your voice.”

“Are you ok!?”

“I-I’ll be fine. Just talk to me. Please.”

“O-OK.” Stan suddenly found himself at a loss for words as he imagined his brother bleeding out in some sci-fi wasteland. But if there was one thing all these years of being Mr. Mystery had taught him, it was how to keep babbling on about nothing when he really felt like doing anything else.

“So, uh, you remember the gnomes, right? ‘Course you do, they’re annoying as all get out! A bunch of them decided they wanted the goat that guy tried to pay with last month. You remember me complaining to you about that, right? At first I was like ‘Yeah, let them have it! One less mouth to feed, one less problem for me to worry about.’ But then I could hear it bleating like a scared little kid off in the distance and, y’know, I couldn’t just leave it to be dinner or a pack mule or whatever they were gonna do with it. So I charge in there, guns out, and I don’t mean firearms!”

He heard Ford snort at that.

“And I punch like a hundred gnomes out to rescue that goat. But just when I get to him, they start playin’ dirty and they all gather into that-that, uh, what’s the technical term for when they all clump together and make something bigger?”

“A coordinated swarm.” Ford answered, his voice a bit steadier this time.

“Yeah, they make a coordinated swarm into a giant fist. So I, uh, grab some of those size-changing crystals. I totally went out and got some of my own after you mentioned them the other day. And I grew my fist even bigger to knock them out.”

Laughter drifted over the line.

“I dunno what you’re laughing for. That totally happened! True story!” Even though he knew Ford couldn’t see him, he hoped his brother could hear his grin in his voice. 

They just sat there, laughing together for a moment before Ford finally spoke.

“OK. I think I’ve ridden out the worst of it. Thanks, Stan.”

“What happened?”

“Something bit me, I think it must have had some sort of neurotoxin venom or something similar. My mind was spiraling, I could barely concentrate enough to try and call you, much less wrap the wound.”

“You’re hurt?”

“Well, yes, but it’s cleaned and dressed now. Nothing life threatening.”

Stan held his head in his hands. “I hate this. I hate not being able to do anything while you’re out there hurt.”

“You’re helping me more than you realize.” Ford assured him. “I don’t need you to do anything else. Really.”

Chapter Text

After finally getting his shelter set up and his bed roll situated in a safe spot, Ford pulled out the phone to call Stanley before going to sleep for the night. He wasn’t entirely surprised when it went to voicemail. 

“Hey Ford, I’m gonna be gone for the next two or three days. Shermie’s grandkids were just born. Y’know, the twins. I’m going down to see them. I’ll be sure to give them an extra hello for you. Hope you’ll be OK until I get back.”

Ford frowned. He’d thought they weren’t due for another week or so, but twins were often early, and hopping dimensions did usually throw his perception of the passage of time off. “I’m glad you’re going to see the family. I myself may have just stumbled upon a breakthrough. I believe I’ve found the dimension Bill originally came from, or at least one similar to it. Hopefully learning more about his origin will help me to finally find his weakness. I’m not sure how being in a two-dimensional space will affect the relative passage of time for me, so just call me when you get back. When you do, I expect to hear all about the new twins!”

Three days later when Stan got back, he was surprised to see he'd gotten only one voicemail, but then again, he had told Ford he'd be gone for "the next two or three days" so maybe that was to be expected. 

He listened to the voicemail and was relieved that his brother seemed to be ok. He always worried when he had to be away from the phone for more than a day, so he tried to avoid it whenever possible. He couldn't really do anything, but Ford said just being able to talk to him helped, so he was going to help as much as he was able.

He hit the call button and waited as the phone rang. It continued to ring for a minute, two minutes, three. Stan swore his blood pressure went up with each ring. Ford always picked up right away. Even when he was in the middle of a fight with space pirates. Even when he was trying to sneak into a secret library. He would pick up, say "Bad time, I'll call you back" and call back a few hours later. So what was going on now?

Stan tried to tell himself that he was being paranoid. There was a first time for everything, and he had gotten pretty mad at Ford for endangering himself to answer the phone in the middle of a fight the last time it happened. Maybe Ford had actually taken his words to heart for once?

Eventually he hung up. He would try again later that night. Ford was probably just busy, and they'd laugh about how much Stan had freaked out over nothing.

At first he was afraid it would be the same story when he tried again later that night. It rang many more times than Ford would normally let it. But on the tenth ring, someone picked up.

"Ford, what the heck happened?" Stan asked, somehow managing to be both relieved and worried at the same time.

"I am sorry, your brother has been gravely injured." A woman's voice answered.

Stan's blood ran cold. No one else had ever answered this phone before. Sure, he occasionally heard other people and things in the background when he was talking to Ford, but his brother had never let anyone else talk on it.

"P-put him on the phone. Let me talk to him."

"He's been unconscious since I found him under attack in the second dimension."

"Then how do you know who I am?"

"I am an oracle. I see many things that are hidden. I am Jheselbraum the Unswerving."

"And what do you want with my brother?" Stan asked hostilely.

"As I said, he's been gravely injured. I found him near death. I've brought him to my home world where he will have time to heal in peace.

"Uh-huh. And how do I know you're not lying. How do I know you didn't just mug him and steal all his stuff?"

The woman actually had the gal to laugh. "I suppose for the time being you are just going to have to trust me. I know that is difficult for both of you, for different reasons, so I hope this will also help convince you. If I had mugged your brother and stolen his things, why would I answer his phone?"

Stan hated that she had a good point. Still, he was nothing if not stubborn. "... Just to shut it up. I was trying to call him for an hour this morning."

"Perhaps. And let's say I did answer just to shut off the ringing. What would I have to gain from lying to you?"

"Uh, I dunno, to stop me from coming after you for revenge I guess."

"Why would I tell you I had rescued him? Why would I not simply inform you he died, or that he'd been arrested?"

"To feel better about yourself, I dunno!"

"Hmm, I see that you still are not convinced. I'm afraid there's not much else I can do to prove to you that he is in good care with such a limited communication device, but perhaps…"

There was a soft ruffling sound of the phone being set down and then Stan heard light breathing. He hoped it wasn't just wishful thinking that made it sound familiar.

"OK, look lady, I believe you when you say you rescued Ford, but nobody does anything for free. Why are you helping him? What do you want from him?"

"Simple. We share a common enemy."

"What, Bill?"

"Who else?"

Stan didn't know how to respond to that. He didn't want whoever this was to make Ford some soldier in her war against Bill. Except Ford had already made himself a soldier in his own personal war against Bill.

"So what, you got some plan to take that triangle jerk out and you need him?"

"Nothing so extravagant. But I do know something he will need if he is to confront Bill."

"Yeah, and what's that?"

"I feel it would be best to wait until your brother is conscious to discuss it. And that likely won't be for another few days."

Stan gulped. "Wh-what happened to him?"

"His body intersected with the two dimensional plane at eye level. The beings of the second dimension saw him as an intruder and attacked. Their bodies are like razors. They would have decapitated him if I'd arrived any later."

He almost wished he hadn't asked. Just imagining it was horrible. "Is he gonna be ok?"

"You needn't worry. My medical abilities are renowned. Though his injuries are serious, he will make a full recovery."

"I'm gonna hold you to that! I'll be calling in to check on his recovery every day, got it?"

"I would expect nothing less from you, Stanley Pines."

Stanford woke with a start, no memory of where he was or how he'd gotten there. He was wearing nothing but a simple robe, lying in a comfortable but sterile bed in a small, sparsely decorated room. His heart rate spiked for a moment as he searched for his belongings, but he quickly found his phone, his photo, and his quantum destabilizer all placed respectfully on top of his folded and freshly cleaned and mended clothes, which had been folded and placed atop a bedside table.

It seemed like wherever this place was, he wasn't in immediate danger. So he immediately picked up the phone and called Stanley.

His brother picked up before the first ring was even done. "Ford? You're awake!"

"Er, yes. How long was I out? And how did you know I was out?"

"Ten days." Stan's voice was thick with emotion. "I was so worried, and all I could do was hope Jess was telling the truth and that you'd be ok."

"Jess?" Ford asked in confusion.

"Well, Jess-el- whatever. I can't pronounce it. Y'know, the lady who saved you and patched you up."

"Stanley, what are you talking about? What lady?"

"What do you mean what lady? You think I just patched you up myself over the phone? Wasn't she there when you woke up?"

"No, the only things in this room when I woke up were my phone and—" his words caught in his throat when an enormous figure walked into the room. Nine feet tall, with seven eyes, all gazing down at him with a gentle kindness he hadn't seen in far too long.

"Ford?" Stan's voice got worried when his brother stopped mid sentence.

"I've just received a visitor." Ford explained. "I presume you're the 'Jess' who rescued me?"

"You presume correctly." She smiled. "I am Jheselbraum the Unswerving. But seeing as your brother has deemed me worthy of one of his nicknames, you may call me Jess if my true name is too much of a mouthful."

"Oh, Jheselbraum isn't so difficult. Stanley's just bad with names."

"Tch. This one's just easy for you cuz you've got all your fancy pantsy Latin and Greek from dumb science stuff. Once you meet an alien with a hard to pronounce Spanish name I'll run circles 'round you."

Jheselbraum explained how she had rescued Ford and been caring for him over the last few days, with occasional comments from Stan.

“Your brother has been very concerned with your wellbeing. He has called in asking about your recovery at least once every day.” Jheselbraum smiled.

“Yes, he can be like that.” Ford nodded. Stan always called more frequently when Ford had been injured in the past. But Ford had always been conscious and able to answer Stan’s calls before, able to assure his brother that he was recovering. “I’m sorry if he was a bit, uh, naggy.”

“Hey!”

“Not at all. Such devotion is admirable. You should appreciate it.”

“I-I do!” Ford protested. “I don’t think I would have been able to survive this long without him to keep me sane.”

Jheselbraum closed one eye, the one in the center. “You would have survived. But you would be a sadder and more miserable man.”

Ford didn’t know how to respond to that.

Thankfully, his host wasn’t thrown off by awkward silences. She continued on explaining how she had treated his wounds and changing the bandages around his head.

“Thank you for your hospitality, but may I have a moment alone to speak with Stanley?” Ford asked after she had finished. 

“Of course. That will give me some time to prepare a meal for you.”

He waited until she left before picking his phone back up.

“Stan, are you still there?”

“Yep. Don’t worry, I shut down the Shack for this whole week. I’ll stay on as long as you like.”

“But what about what your doctor said?”

“C’mon Ford, that was almost two decades ago. Besides, I spent three days in sunny California before this, so it all evens out. Probably.”

“Oh! That’s right! The new twins! How are they?”

“Heh, freakin’ adorable, but what would you expect from babies? I, uh, I told them you said hi when no one else was listening in.”

“...Thanks.”

Stan’s sigh crackled over the line. “You should’ve been there to see them yourself. It’s been almost twenty years. You should be here .”

“Stan, we’ve been over this! The chances of me finding the right kind of portal, much less actually being able to use it, are miniscule.”

“Yeah, yeah, ‘we’ve been over this’, and I keep telling you, I’m not gonna just give up!”

“I’m not giving up, I’ll keep looking. I’m just saying, you should manage your expectations.”

The conversation petered out for a moment there. This was an argument they had almost constantly, and Ford was too tired to rehash it again now. 

“Do you trust her?” He asked quietly, changing the subject. 

“What, Jess? Pch, no. But then, I don’t trust anyone, ‘cept maybe you. Y’know, on a good day.” Stan mulled it over for a moment. “I mean, I guess I trust her to not kill you. She could’ve done that by now easily. But everyone’s got an angle. She says hers is Bill, and that seems reasonable, but it’s hard to get a read on her when all I’ve got to go on is a few phone conversations. What do you think of her?”

He thought about it for a moment. She’d saved his life. She seemed kind and genuine. But then, so had Bill. “... I don’t trust anyone either.”

Stan paused before answering. “Not even me, huh?”

Ford’s heart dropped. He hadn’t meant it like that. Still, he didn’t know if trust was the right word for what he and Stan had now. He knew Stan was probably trying to reactivate his portal behind his back, and yet he himself never directly confronted his brother about it. 

“Stan—”

“Nah, I get it. Especially since I’m the one who got you into this mess. Why would you.”

“On a good day. I trust you.”

“Heh, alright, I walked right into that one. And I guess today’s not a good day.”

“... hmmm.” Ford just hummed noncommittally.

“You ok? You seem kinda, I dunno, gloomy. She got you on some kinda painkiller that’s making you feel foggy?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve just been thinking.”

“You’re always thinking. It’s what you do.”

“Well. About things I don’t usually think about. About trust.”

“Oh, getting philosophical are ya? Yeah, that’s not like you at all. I guess a near death experience is supposed to do that though.”

“... I think I trust her. More than most.”

“Well, you’re the one who can actually see her so you’d be a better judge than me.”

“I’m a horrible judge. That’s why I don’t trust anyone. I always seem to trust the wrong people.”

“Hmph. You and me both.” Stan agreed. “Uh, for what it’s worth, I think I trust her more than most too. She, uh, she did her best to keep me calm every time I called in and you were still passed out. And she seemed to be taking good care of you. So there’s that. And there might be something to that oracle stuff. She knew I was your brother, knew my name , before I explained anything to her.”

“Interesting, she knew my name too.”

“Yeah, but that’s not as impressive. Didn’t you say you’ve got your own wanted posters all over the place now? Meanwhile, I’m just some Joe-schmoe on an unremarkable Earth.”

“... So do we trust her?”

“As much as two guys like us can, I guess.”

Ford was feeling tired, even though all he’d done since waking up was talk on the phone. His injuries must be worse than he realized. He told his brother he would call back later, but for now he needed rest.

Jheselbraum returned to his room a while later with a bowl of some sort of chowder. It was pleasantly warm when she handed it to him, but not steaming, likely so he wouldn’t have to worry about burning himself.

Ford looked down on the bowl suspiciously. She had rescued him from certain death and healed him. It was probably safe to eat. But he hadn’t survived this long by making such assumptions. He lifted the bowl to sniff it experimentally.

She actually giggled. “I can taste test it for you if that makes you feel safer.”

“We’re not the same species. What’s fatal to me may just be seasoning to you.”

“I’ve treated humans like you before. I assure you, it’s not only perfectly safe, it’s also healthy. Still, I understand why trust does not come easily to you anymore.”

“Hmph. I don’t trust anyone .”

“Not even your brother?”

Had she been listening in on their call, or was this an oracle’s insight? How much did he feel comfortable sharing with her about his relationship with his brother? It took Ford a moment to sort out his thoughts enough to answer. “It’s complicated.”

“That is neither a yes or a no.”

Ford pointedly took a spoonful of the chowder, cutting himself out of the conversation.

She just nodded, like his lack of a response was a response in and of itself. “We make many things that should be simple and straightforward more complicated. It is the nature of free-thinking beings. You have kept that phone and that photo for a long time. As complicated as things may be, I believe that speaks for itself. Now please, get some sleep.”

A couple of days later, Ford was feeling well enough to start walking around for extended periods of time. Jheselbraum showed him around her mountaintop shrine to celebrate. “Stanford, before reaching the next stage of your recovery, there is something I’d like to speak with you about.” 

“Oh?” Ford looked up at her expectantly. 

“Do you still intend to search for a way to destroy Bill Cipher, and kill him yourself?”

“Of course! Why would that change?”

“Many lose their resolve after a near death experience like yours.” She said solemnly.

“Well those people are weak-willed! I’ll never turn from my quest to put an end to his reign of terror, not after what he did to me!”

Her warm smile was at odds with Ford’s vitriolic words. “Good. I wish you success with your quest. But there is a problem that will need to be addressed first.”

Ford’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“You made a deal with Bill, giving him access to your mind.”

He flushed with shame. “...Yes.”

“Is he still able to take control?”

He wanted the ground to swallow him up. “He’s lost interest in me. I’m only worth the trouble when I’m getting too close to finding his weakness, or a portal he thinks he can use. I can’t give him what he wants anymore.”

“But the deal is still active.”

Why were they on this subject when it made Ford feel like the lowest of scum? Was she worried Bill would try to get to her using Ford’s body? Surely if that was an issue, it would have come up by now.

“Yes. The deal is still active.” He confirmed through clenched teeth.

“What were the terms of the deal?”

“From now until the end of time!” Ford burst. “I was a fool, alright? He didn’t even have to coax me into it, that part was my idea! I trusted him so completely, I wanted him to trust me so much, I didn’t just give him access to my entire life, but my entire afterlife! I will never be rid of him, until he’s dead! I don’t need you telling me how stupid I was! I already do that to myself every day!”

Her gaze softened. “Oh, Stanford, that was not my intention. I am sorry, perhaps I am not being direct enough. If Bill can still take control of you, you will never get far enough to confront him.”

“What?”

“Think about it. As soon as you complete your weapon and become an active threat, he will make you slit your own throat the moment you fall asleep.” 

Ford was stunned silent.

“I see now I have been too direct.”

His brow furrowed and he looked up at her helplessly. “Are you saying it’s hopeless? This has all been for nothing?”

“No.” Jheselbraum said firmly. “But you will need to protect your mind from him. While there are a few barrier spells, like the ones I have around my shrine, none of them are portable. I know of only one solution that will suit your needs, but it is… drastic .”

“Whatever it is, I’ll do it!” 

“Let me at least tell you what it is first. If I were to install a metal plate in direct contact with your skull, it would block him from entering your mind, but we would have to do it soon, before the scar tissue starts to form where the flatlanders cut your head open, and the surgery would still be difficult.”

“Yes, fine.”

She gave him an exasperated smile. “Perhaps you should at least discuss this with your brother first?”

Ford scoffed. “I don’t need Stanley’s permission to do anything. It’s not like he can stop me.”

“Well, I can see your mind is made up. We’ll need to make preparations first, of course. And I do think you should at least inform your brother.”

“Alright.” Ford grumbled. He knew exactly what Stan’s reaction was going to be. 

“You want to what!?”

Stan had been expecting a nice call today, just check in on Ford’s recovery, maybe discuss how soon Ford wanted to leave. Stan had been hoping he could talk his brother into staying there for a while longer and just taking a sort of vacation from his crusade against Bill. Just for a month or two, maybe give Stan’s nerves a rest for a while.

He had not expected his brother to extend his stay in order to do cranial surgery!

“Installing a metal plate in contact with my cranium will finally protect my mind from Bill! I won’t have to worry about him destroying my research when I get too close to his weakness, or stabbing me in my sleep!”

Stan had to admit the constant threat of Bill being able to swoop in and take control of his brother’s body whenever the triangle felt like it was one he didn’t like living with, but it was one he’d gotten used to over the years.

“He hasn’t done that in ages though.”

“Only because he doesn’t see me as a threat! As soon as I find the right powersource for the Quantum Destabilizer—”

“You won’t be able to find one if you’re brain dead.” 

“It’s risky, I admit, but at least there’s a chance of success! If I don’t, it’s only a matter of time before Bill kills me. I don’t have any other options.”

“Yeah, you do actually!” Stan was so agitated he stood up from the desk where the phone was situated. “You could leave Bill for someone else to deal with and just focus on finding a way home!”

He knew it was the wrong thing to say almost as soon as it was out of his mouth. Stan had no idea how well an angry silence could come across on a phone. But it wasn’t like he was gonna take it back. He was tired of Ford constantly risking his life.

When Ford finally spoke again, his voice was dangerously low. “I would rather die doing everything I can to stop him than come home, knowing he’s still out there, hurting someone else like he did to me. I gave myself to him! I gave him exactly what he wanted, and he came dangerously close to destroying the world, because of me! This is the only way I can redeem myself!”

Stan’s heart ached. “Ford…”

“You don’t know what it’s like, Stanley!” His brother shouted. “I’m doing this, and just like there’s nothing I can do to stop you from trying to reactivate my portal, there’s nothing you can do to stop me!”

He hung up with a click.

Stan took a moment to compose himself before deciding he should call back right away.

“Ford, listen—”

“I don’t want to hear it!”

“Good luck.”

“...What?”

“You’re right. I can’t do anything to stop you. All I can do is wish you good luck.”

“Oh… thanks.” Ford accepted awkwardly.

“You know I just want you to be safe, right?”

Ford scoffed. “My situation is hardly conducive to safety.”

“I know, and the whole reason you’re trapped out there is because of me. I don’t know what it’s like, with what Bill did to you, but I know what it’s like to feel like you’ve gotta redeem yourself. So just—” He heaved a tired sigh, “Do what you’ve gotta do, but at least be careful about it. Can you at least do that?”

“Contrary to popular belief, yes, I can be careful.”

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose and gave an exasperated laugh. “Could’ve fooled me.”

The day of Ford’s surgery, Stan wanted to shut down the Shack and just spend the whole day down in the basement listening in on the phone, but Jheselbraum shut him down. She said she would need no distractions, and besides, there wouldn’t be much to listen to. Ford would be under anesthesia, and Jheselbraum would be talking to her medical assistants in their own language. 

Stan had gone to the lake to try and calm his nerves, but it really hadn’t helped much. Everything there reminded him of Ford. The day seemed to drag on for an entire month. He couldn’t sleep that night either. Eventually, his alarm clock read 4 am, and Stan figured it was no use waiting any longer. Time didn’t exactly line up from dimension to dimension, so it probably wasn’t horribly early in dimension 52.

He probably should have expected Jheselbraum to answer, but he was still slightly disappointed. 

“How’d it go?” Stan asked. 

“I’m happy to report it was a picture perfect surgery, no complications or concerns. Of course, Stanford still has a long recovery in front of him, and I’ll need to monitor him closely to make sure there isn’t any internal bleeding.”

“How long until he wakes up?” 

“The anesthesia should be wearing off in a few hours, but due to the nature of the surgery, I wouldn’t expect him to wake until tomorrow.”

Stan groaned. He didn’t know if he could take that much more waiting. Still, it was a relief to hear that the surgery had gone off without a hitch. “And you’re sure he’s gonna be ok now? He’s, uh, stable or whatever it’s called?”

“Yes, he is stable. It’s not impossible for complications to arise at this point, but it’s unlikely. I will be sure to call you if there is any change in his condition.”

“Thanks.” He should be relieved, but this just meant he was going to spend all day in the basement lab, anxiously waiting for the phone to ring.

“While I have you alone, there is something I need to tell you.”

That was weird, wasn’t it? For her to have something to say just to him. “Uh, OK?”

“I told you when we first spoke that I am an oracle, and I see many things that are hidden. I have seen many things about you.”

“Wait, what?”

“I know you have a quest of your own. One you keep secret from your brother because you know he will not approve.”

His heart stopped. Did she actually know about the portal, or was she just way better at making stuff up than Ma had been? “Uh, I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“There will be dark days ahead of you. Trust in those you love, and ask them to trust you. The only time you can defeat an all powerful opponent is when they think they have already won. That is when they let their guard down.”

Yep, that sounded like the general nonsense Ma used to feed her customers. The last bit was weirdly inapplicable though. Maybe everybody in dimension 52 picked fights with dangerous interdimensional beings. 

“Listen, Jess, I appreciate the advice, or fortune telling, or whatever this is, but I’m really not a do-or-die sci-fi hero like Ford. I’m not looking to get involved in this huge conflict with Bill. I’m just some normal Earth guy. Maybe with a slightly longer criminal record than most. I’m not gonna be taking on any all powerful opponents. I just wanna do everything I can to make sure my brother is safe.”

“Do not think yourself unimportant, Stanley Pines.” Jheselbraum said solemnly. “Your destiny is great. I saw it long ago, and I have been waiting .”

“Heh, sure.” He laughed awkwardly. How was he supposed to react to this? 

“One last thing. When you have everything you need, do not wait for the component to stabilize it. Do not hesitate. Start it right away. He will need you to rescue him.”

Stan almost choked on his own spit, he was so shocked. That was definitely about the portal.

“How’d you—”

“Good luck, Stanley Pines.” She hung up.

It took another week of recovering before Ford was finally feeling like himself again. There hadn’t been much to do in the meantime except talk, so he’d had many discussions with Jheselbraum. Occasionally Stanley would join the conversation when he happened to call to check up on his brother’s recovery. The brothers would tell her about their childhood, although Ford always got the impression that she already knew all their stories. When it was just the two of them, Ford would tell her about his time researching anomalies in Gravity Falls. Jheselbraum in turn told him about how she became a healer. Becoming a medical professional in this dimension was very different. 

Mostly, though, they talked about Bill. Ford was astonished how much she knew about their common enemy. And while she was just as determined to bring his reign of terror to an end, she held none of the burning hatred Ford did. When she related how Bill had destroyed his own home dimension, she almost seemed sad.

As the days passed, Ford began to grow restless, spending so much time in that recovery room, as comfortable as it was. He was eager to be on his way. Now that his mind was protected from Bill, perhaps he could finally make some progress on finding the triangle’s weakness and completing the Quantum Destabilizer.

Of course, Stanley was trying to talk him into staying longer. 

“I’m just saying, it’s safe where you are now! That’s not something we could say about most of the dimensions you’ve visited. You’ve been going non-stop for almost 20 years, you just had freakin’ cranial surgery—”

“That was a week ago!” 

“I looked it up, the medical book I got at the library says it takes 2-3 months for the skull to heal.”

“That is according to your dimension’s sub-standard healing abilities.” Jheselbraum corrected him. “I did not make any incisions or breaks in the cranium itself.” Jheselbraum corrected him. “I was able to perfectly fit the metal plate to the outside of his skull. The difficult part was making sure it did not block any blood vessels so it would not affect regular circulation in his brain. He has recovered enough to be released from my care.”

“Released from care, yeah, sure, but Ford should still be taking it easy, right? Not jumping back out into the dangerous day-to-day life of an interdimensional drifter. I’m just saying, don’t you deserve a break?”

Ford stiffened, and it wasn’t just because he’d spent most of the last three weeks in a hospital bed. No, he didn’t deserve a break. If he got what he deserved, he’d be dead by now. “I can’t afford to stop now. This metal plate changes everything!”

“C’mon Ford, another week’s not gonna hurt.”

He glanced over his shoulder at Jheselbraum. “I’d hate to overstay my welcome.”

“There is no danger of that. You will know when it is your time to move on.”

“I suppose that settles that.” Ford said smugly. 

“She’s your doctor, Ford. That’s her nice way of saying you gotta stay longer and recover.”

He turned to look her in the eyes. She just smiled warmly at him, no hint to which of the brothers she was agreeing with. 

"I think your recovery is cause for celebration. We shall prepare a feast!"

"Aww man! You get all the luck, Poindexter! All I've got to eat here is canned meat."

"Sounds like something a quick trip to the grocery store would fix." Ford mocked.

"Tch. Like you ever went grocery shopping when you lived here."

"Ah, well, uh, I was busy."

"The guy who runs the Dusk 2 Dawn told me you used to come in once a month, in the middle of the night, specifically to interact with as few people as possible."

“You know what, Stan, nevermind, you should go out to eat.”

“No! I don’t wanna be left out of the party! Plus, eating out is expensive.”

They continued to laugh and rib each other for a while, but eventually Stan decided he really did need to make a run to the store. Around that time, Jheselbraum brought the first platter of food into Ford’s room. It wasn’t often he had plentiful food, and most of what he’d been eating since arriving in dimension 52 was some variation on soup, so the plates of meat and pastries were a nice change of pace. He devoured them like a hungry teen, barely pausing to breathe, much less savor the taste, for several minutes before finally slowing down. It was then he noticed his host was watching him with an inscrutable expression.

“Er, sorry about my bad table manners, half the dimensions I’ve traveled through don’t even have sentient life, so proper eating etiquette—”

“Oh, that is not why I am staring.”

“Then why?”

She took his face gently in her hands, and Ford had to stop himself from squirming uncomfortably. She looked deep into his eyes, as though she was searching for something.

“You have the face of the man destined to destroy Bill Cipher.” 

He gave a little gasp, looking back at her, asking with his eyes if she meant it. If this was something she had foreseen. Her soft smile was all the answer he needed.

“Is that the real reason we’re having this feast?” He asked. 

“Yes.”

Ford stood and grinned excitedly. “Then we need to escalate this party! What kind of intoxicating drinks does this dimension have?”

Her grin turned mischievous. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

When Stan returned from the grocery store, it took a while for Ford to pick up again. Just when he was starting to get worried, he heard his brother’s voice, and some loud music that seemed to be a cross between yodeling and big band jazz.

“Stanley! N-now ish a party!”

“Holy crap, are you drunk?” Stan laughed incredulously. “I leave to get groceries, and you’re this drunk? I was barely gone an hour!”

“We’re celebrating, Stan! Guesh what? I-I’m gonna be the one to kill Bill. Me! Je-heshla… Jeshtle-bum… Uh, Jesh saw it! In like, an oracle vision! I-I was alwayssscared I wouldn’ be able ta do it, but she said I got the face! And ya know what? Ya know what?”

“What?” Stan asked, barely suppressing his laughter. There were two times Ford would let his Jersey accent show, when he was really angry, or really, really drunk.

“I decided, we c’n trusht her. Sh-she’s a good ‘un.”

“Hah, yeah? You sure you’re sober enough to make that decision?”

“Yeah! Ya gotta problem withat?”

“Nah, just gimme a second to grab my own drinks. Can’t let you have all the fun.”

Stan ran upstairs to get his fancy booze. Well, fancy was probably too generous. Stan was too frugal to buy anything but the cheapest of beers, but he did have a nice-ish bottle of wine he mostly just used for Passover, and the large bottle of scotch Ford had left, which he only ever touched on their birthday. He figured if Ford was celebrating this much, it was a fitting occasion to bring it out.

As soon as Stan called back, Ford was yelling for Jheselbraum to come talk to him.

“Jesh! Jesh, guesh who I’m talkin’ to? It’ssStan! C-c’mon an’ tell ‘im what ya told me! Tell ‘im ‘bout how I’m gonna be the one ta kill Bill!”

There was a brief shuffling sound as the phone changed hands. 

“Yeeeeeees. Yes. I saw it. Bill is definitely going to die, and-and-and you, you will be the one to pull the trigger.” 

Stan was surprised Jheselbraum seemed to be just as drunk as his brother. Something about her motherly oracle personality seemed too straight-laced to get intoxicated. He filled up his own shot glass, and paused before drinking. There was one thing he needed to know before he could truly celebrate. Hopefully she wasn’t too drunk to answer.

“So you foresaw Ford will kill Bill?”

Jheselbraum burst into giggles in response. So that wasn’t a good sign for getting an actual answer.

“I just need to know, is he gonna survive?”

“Wellllll, that’s up to you, Stanley.” She answered. 

Something told Stan that was the only answer he was gonna get out of her. But hey, he’d take it. If it was up to him, he’d do everything in his power to make sure Ford survived. He downed his shot glass and filled it up again.

“Let’s party then!”

They all talked and laughed for a while, the weird music occasionally drowning out Ford’s words, but Stan was now drunk enough he probably wasn’t going to remember anything said to him in the morning anyway. Eventually, the phone found its way into Jheselbraum’s hands again.

"Stan. Staaaaaan. I've never actually seen you, I just hear your voice over this thing. But I've seen you. In visions!" She giggled like a schoolgirl. "You know what's funny?"

"What?"

"Twins. Twins have the same face!" She dissolved into laughter again.

Normally Stan would roll his eyes and say that was obvious, but he was drunk enough that he just laughed along with her.

If he’d been a bit less drunk, he might have remembered her joke in the morning. He might have connected the dots. But neither of the brothers did, until many years later. 

Ford woke up to a splitting headache. He wanted nothing more than to roll over and go back to sleep, but something was scratching at his face. He felt something strange when he tried to wave it away. Leaves.

He tried to spring up and immediately regretted it as the headache throbbed. He laid down and tried again, slowly sitting up this time.

He was in a small clearing in a dark forest next to a small pond, lying in a comfortable bed of moss. His phone, his photo, and his quantum destabilizer were all placed respectfully on top of his folded and freshly cleaned and mended clothes, just like when he’d awoken in Dimension 52 a few weeks ago. But there was no sign of the mountaintop shrine or of Jheselbraum. 

He picked up the phone and called his brother.

“Urgh, I gotta make the ringer on this thing quieter.” Stan’s voice grumbled when he picked up. “What?”

“She’s gone!”

“Yeesh, not so loud, will ya? You’ve gotta be at least as hungover as me. Who, Jess?”

“Yes!” Ford’s heart was picking up speed.

“And you’re sure she’s not just in another part of the temple or whatever it is? I assume it’s a big-ish place.”

“No, Stan, it’s all gone! I don’t remember falling asleep last night, but when I woke up I found myself in this forest with all my things, and no sign of Jheselbraum or the shrine, like none of it ever happened! Like she never—” His words cut off as he started to hyperventilate. 

“Ok, ok, calm down.” Stan tried to be as soothing as possible while still grumbling through his own hangover. “It happened, alright? I remember it. You remember it. You still got that metal plate in your head?”

Ford reached up and felt the still scabbing stitches and his recently shaved head. He could feel the metal with a gentle tap.

“Y-yes.”

“OK, good. Hopefully she wasn’t making up the part where it’s supposed to protect you from Bill. Maybe try and find another one of those ancient libraries, see if he shows up and carves up your arm again.”

He tried to get a handle on his breathing. Hopefully? Did he just go through all of that for nothing? 

“I-I trusted her… h-how… how could she just leave?” He tried to speak between gasps. 

“Ok, no more talking, just follow my breathing. In…”

This wasn’t the first time they’d had to do this. Ford listened to the rattle of his brother’s exaggerated inhale over the line and did his best to copy it.

“Out…”

Ford’s exhale was significantly shakier than Stan’s, but he was at least able to hold it for the whole eight seconds before he inhaled again. They repeated the cycle a few more times until Ford’s breathing returned to normal. 

He just laid there for a minute, willing his splitting headache to go away. He dug around in his bag to find some medicine that would help, and found that all his medical supplies had been restocked, along with some new pills and a note that they were to speed along his recovery from the surgery. But there was no explanation for why he had been expelled from dimension 52.

“I don’t understand it.” Ford mumbled to himself as he filtered some water from the pond.

“Guess I shouldn’t have been so up-front about wanting you to stay there for another month or two. She probably was worried you’d turn into a free-loader.” Stan said.

“No, I was eager to be on my way. I just thought I’d have a chance for a proper goodbye.”

“Maybe she’s bad at goodbyes. Maybe this was the easier way for her. Or maybe her culture doesn’t have any concept of goodbyes. Maybe it’s normal for them to just kick you out in the middle of the night.”

“...Maybe.” Ford admitted. He finished taking his medication and packed up. He found a trail leading out of the forest and to a small city. As luck would have it, they had an entire library dedicated to ancient legends of beings that could bend time and space.

It was time to continue his quest.

Chapter Text

“So I think I have a son now?”

“A DNA test should answer that question for you.” Ford didn’t sound fazed in the slightest.

“What? No, I didn’t— For your information, I always use protection.”

“Good. Then he’s most likely not your son.”

“Not like that, genius! I think I accidentally adopted a kid!”

“How do you ‘accidentally’ adopt a kid? Isn’t there a great deal of paperwork involved?”

“Not officially or anything, but remember when I was complaining about my last handyman? I hired this kid as a replacement a while ago and, uh, he’s kinda touchy-feely. Keeps hugging me and asking if I can come over to his place for dinner and stuff like that. Then earlier today he asked me to play catch with him.”

“Did you?” He could hear his brother holding back a snicker.

“I needed the exercise!” Stan defended. “Anyway, we got talking and it turns out his dad just up and left when he was little. And I uh, I might have said some things that were more about Pa than his dad. Not that he knew that, but I think I went too far ‘cuz next thing I know he’s crying and hugging me again and asking if I’ll come to his karate thing.”

Ford chuckled. “Well I hardly think that constitutes adoption, but this child does seem attached to you.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem.” Stan sighed, leaning back in his chair. “He’s a good kid, and I don’t wanna mess a kid up like Pa did us.”

“Hmm.” Ford hummed in agreement.

“But at the same time, I think he’s already kinda messed up by his own dad. So I can’t do any worse than that, right?”

“Wait, do you actually want to, er, adopt this kid?” 

Stan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s the million dollar question.”

Ford didn’t reply for a moment. Stan could only guess he was thinking about it.

“You’ve never been very responsible, but you are loyal and caring, which from what I understand are more desirable traits in a parental figure. So, if that is what you want, I don’t think you’d ‘mess him up’.”

“ Thanks. ” Stan hoped his eye roll was conveyed in his tone. 

“I meant it as a compliment!”

The sound of a midi-banjo echoed through the dead quiet halls like a clap of thunder. Ford quickly answered his phone, looking around carefully for any ghostly figures that might have been woken by the sound. Thankfully, there were none.

“You’re going to have to be quiet, Stan, I’m in a ghost library.”

“A ghost library? Y’know what, no, not even surprised anymore.”

“I’ve been trying to get here for ages. The dead have a much larger pool of knowledge than the living. I’m sure I’ll find his weakness here!” He glanced over his shoulder again. “Unfortunately, they’ve got a strict no living policy, so I’ve got to be careful not to get caught.”

“I’ll call back later, then, it’s not that important.”

“No, that’s alright. If you’ve got something to tell me, go ahead. We should be fine as long as we keep our voices down.”

“Alright. So, uh, you remember Shermie’s grandkids?”

“Ah, yes, the new set of twins. Mable and Myron, right?”

“Mabel and Mason.” Stan corrected him.

“Yes, sorry, Mason.”

“Well their parents think the kids are spending too much time cooped up in the city playing video games and stuff. They want to send ‘em up here for the summer to get some fresh air.”

“Oh! That should be fun! You’re great with kids.”

Stan’s snort sounded more like a quick burst of air over the phone. “Yeah, right.”

“Well, you’re good with Soos, from what I hear.”

“He’s in his early twenties now. These kids aren’t even thirteen.”

Ford’s eyes widened. Had it really been that long?

“I’m sure you’ll do fine.” He assured his brother quietly, picking up a book that looked promising.

“It’s just… it’s gonna be weird, having another pair of twins running around, and not being able to tell them about you.”

“Who says you can’t?”

Stan didn’t answer for a moment. Ford could only guess what he was thinking about. “I’m supposed to be playing the part of the grieving twin, wouldn’t it be weird for me to talk to them about you?”

“I’ve been ‘dead’ for how long now? Plenty of time for you to move on, I would think.”

“Thirty years.” Stan said quietly, and Ford didn’t think it was to avoid waking any ghosts. “And you’re still no closer to coming home.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Ford reassured him. “This book I just found details a collapsing dimension. Maybe if I could find a way to collapse the Nightmare Realm on Bill…”

“What about your anti-Bill gun?”

“The quantum destabilizer.” Ford corrected his brother more softly than he normally would. “I still haven’t been able to find a proper power source. Everything I try either doesn’t provide enough power to generate the null field, or is too unstable to use in a portable weapon. I’ve started looking into different options.” 

Stan sighed heavily. “See, this is what I’m talking about. Getting that metal plate was supposed to help you make progress—”

“And it has!”

“Ford, it’s been over a decade .”

“I know it’s hard since you can’t actually see the progress on your end, but I promise, I am making headway. It’s only a matter of time.”

“How much more time is it gonna take? You’ve been gone almost as long as you’ve lived in our dimension! What if you die of old age before you ever make it home?”

Ford grimaced. “If I die before I make it home, it’s highly unlikely it will be of old age.”

“Not comforting.”

“I’m just being realistic!” Ford snapped his mouth shut. That had been too loud. He slowly turned around. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up.

Sure enough, he could just make out a wisp at the end of the shelves. It was small, and probably a harmless category one, but if it alerted any of the librarians, he would be in real trouble. 

“I have to go!” He whispered, quickly hanging up before Stan could protest. Hopefully his brother would understand this was not one of those times he should call back so he could have the last word in an argument.

“Hey Ford, I’m out with the kids. Doing some bonding type stuff down at the lake. I’ll call you when I get back.”

Ford tried not to feel too jealous as he left his message. He shouldn't begrudge Stan the chance to bond with their family, even if Ford knew he’d most likely never have the chance to meet them himself.

“I hope you’re having fun with the kids. I’m just in a relatively safe dimension, so I thought I’d give you a call.” He glanced down and saw a baby with one of his blasters half-way in its mouth. “No! No, get that out of your mouth!” He pulled it away and wiped it off on his coat. The baby started bawling. “Sorry, baby dimension. I’m still baffled by how this place even functions with no adults. Anyway, my previous theory for collapsing the Nightmare Realm on Bill didn’t pan out. It turns out, the Nightmare Realm is already collapsing in on itself, just in slow motion. On the order of billions of years. Due to the relationship of time and space, I can’t speed it up. So that’s a bust.” He threw a few pages detailing his notes on the subject to the ground. A blonde baby in a big purple bow spit up on it. “Oh for crying out loud… no, it doesn’t matter, those calculations ended up being worthless anyway. I need to get out of here, this place is frustrating. I’ll wait for you to call me later.”

It had been raining hard, and his chair had been very comfortable. Stan wasn’t surprised he fell asleep. No, what surprised him was what he dreamed about. It was like he was watching the security tapes of the Mystery Shack, but its halls were long and filled with hundreds of doors. Stranger still, there was a yellow triangle floating through them, opening them at random like it was looking for something.

It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d had nightmares about Bill Cipher. How could he not, after the stories Ford told? But those nightmares were different. He’d always dream of the triangle torturing his brother while he was helpless to do anything. If it was a good dream, he’d imagine fighting Bill side by side with Ford and punching the demon right in the face. He’d never had a dream where Bill was just floating around in the background.

Wait a minute… did that jerk actually have the gal to show himself in Stan’s mind? Oh! He was going to rip that triangle limb from limb! He imagined a pair of giant, muscular arms grabbing Bill.

“OH! LOOKS LIKE THIS FISH IS ACTUALLY GONNA PUT UP A FIGHT!” The triangle didn’t even struggle against the hold. “OK, LET’S SEE WHAT YOU’VE GOT, MAC!”

The arms grabbed the triangle at either end and pulled, making to rip him apart, but he just stretched like silly putty before slipping right out of them. 

“HAVEN’T YOU HEARD? I’M THE MASTER OF THE MIND!”

“It’s been thirty years, and you never had the nerve to show yourself to me!” Stan’s voice roared down the halls of his mind. “What changed? Ford always said you showed up when he was close to figuring out your weakness. Is that it? Am I close to figuring out how to fix that portal so you can’t slip through?”

“YEAH RIGHT! IF I WAS WORRIED ABOUT THAT, I WOULD HAVE POKED AROUND YOUR MIND BACK WHEN YOU STARTED TALKING TO FOUR-EYES.”

“Then why didn’t you? Scared I’ll mess you up?”

Bill laughed, long and high and condescending. “HAHAHAHAHA, ME? SCARED OF YOU? PLEASE! THE REASON I HAVEN’T BOTHERED WITH YOU BEFORE NOW IS YOU’RE ALREADY DOING WHAT I WANT. I DIDN’T WANT TO SPOOK YOU LIKE I DID YOUR BROTHER. IF I HADN’T TIPPED MY HAND WITH HIS ASSISTANT BACK IN THE DAY, I’D ALREADY BE PARTYING IT UP IN YOUR DIMENSION.”

Everything in Stan’s dreamscape turned red. “You should be scared! I’m gonna make you pay for how you hurt Ford!”

“HEH, HOW IS OL’ SIXER BY THE WAY?”

“You don’t get to call him that! That was my nickname before you ruined it!”

Bill ignored him. “I CAN’T CHECK IN ON HIM ANYMORE AFTER THE SURGERY. I MEAN, I CAN STILL HAUNT HIS NIGHTMARES, BUT IT’S JUST NOT AS FUN WHEN I CAN’T BREAK A FEW BONES ON THE WAY OUT. PLUS, IT ALMOST NEVER GIVES ME A CLUE WHERE TO FIND HIM. MAYBE IF I HAVE TIME AFTER I FIND THAT CODE FOR GIDEON, I’LL SEE IF I CAN FIND WHERE YOU KEEP YOUR MEMORIES OF HIM. HE STILL TELLS YOU ABOUT WHATEVER DIMENSION HE’S IN RIGHT? MAYBE I’LL SEND HIM A PRESENT, LIKE A BOUNTY HUNTER.”

“Hey, you’re not getting any of my memories, bucko!”

“I’D LOVE TO SEE YOU TRY AND STOP ME!” Bill taunted him.

Stan tried imagining a fire, a meat grinder, a giant pair of scissors, a gun, but nothing he tried had any permanent effect on Bill. The triangle always reformed like nothing had happened. He just continued to search through Stan’s memories. It was all Stan could do to lengthen the halls and jumble the doors together to try and make it harder to find anything specific. 

When the kids showed up in his mindscape, he had to hold back. The last thing he needed was to explain how he knew Bill Cipher. That would be skirting too close to far too many secrets. He just did his best to help them from the background. It was a relief when they finally got the triangle to leave.

He tried to play it off like he thought it was all just a weird dream when he woke up, but inwardly, he was freaking out. He needed to get down to the basement and call Ford immediately. 

Unfortunately, thanks to Gideon, he wouldn’t be able to do that for another couple of days, and he’d have other things on his mind than Bill.

Stan shot out of the elevator to the basement like a horse out of its starting gate. He had all three journals! After thirty years of trying to pry the answers out of Ford, Dipper had just found the third one by accident!? And Gideon had the second one for years apparently? He was finally, finally going to bring Ford home, even if he still didn’t have a way to stabilize the portal. He didn’t care how dangerous it was or how angry it made his brother. He still remembered Jheselbraum’s words to him all those years ago, and while he still wasn’t 100% convinced she was the real deal, she’d gotten enough right that he wasn’t going to take any chances. 

He saw the light flashing on the voicemail machine. Of course, he hadn’t been able to come down here for almost three days now. Ford was probably freaking out. Stan didn’t dare call him while he was powering up the portal, but he could at least listen to his messages while he was working. 

“I assume you’re out with the kids again. I hope you’re having fun. I’ve come across another dimensional traveler, he’s also looking for a sufficiently powerful object.” There was a deep voice in the background. Stan couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying. “Sorry, he already knows where to find four such objects, but he’s looking for something that will empower him to be able to handle all four at once without imploding. I’m hoping once he’s done with it, I’ll be able to use it for the Quantum Destabilizer. Give me a call once you get back.”

Stan continued to punch in a series of inputs from the second journal into the old console as the next message started playing. 

“Still out with the kids, huh? I’m glad you have the chance to spend the summer with them, but don’t forget about me out here, ok?” Ford laughed awkwardly. “I lost that guy. Interesting fellow, but I knew he couldn't be trusted. Anyone who claims evil runs through their veins is trouble. I… I admit, I don’t actually have that much to tell you. I just… I miss you. I know that’s stupid, it’s only been a day, we’ve gone longer without calling. It’s just, usually when I leave you a message, you call me back before I call you again. I know, I’m probably just being paranoid. I’ll wait for your call.”

Once he was done inputting all the correct data, Stan started flipping switches. There was one more message to play. 

“Stanley, where are you? You’ve never been unavailable for this long without giving me a heads up beforehand, or at least updating your voicemail message to let me know you’ll be gone for a while. I’m worried!” Ford heaved a stressed sigh. “You better not have done anything rash! I’m not worth— you shouldn’t— don’t— ugh, just don’t do anything stupid, and call me back!”

Stan glanced at the portal lighting up on the other side of the glass. Too late for that.

All that was left was to pull the lever to actually start the thing. All these years later he still remembered that first night, pulling that lever again and again, never getting more than a few sparks. This time was going to be different.

This time when he pulled the lever, the gaping hole in the center of the triangle that made up the portal's main structure filled with a bright white light. Of course, after all these years of studying this thing, Stan knew it wasn't that simple. The portal was going to have to build power before it could open a hole big enough for Ford to come through. Luckily, he had Ford's signal thanks to the phone, so as soon as the machine had enough power, he could just bring his brother home without having to risk additional time searching.

Now that he'd actually started the portal, Stan knew he should probably call Ford. He knew his brother was probably panicking by now. But the portal made a steady whirring noise in the background. Would Ford be able to hear that? Would it make him suspicious?

The little alarm clock Stan kept down here to keep track of time had a radio. He flipped it on to an oldies station and turned the volume to the point where it was just loud enough to cover the sound of the portal, but hopefully not so loud that it would interfere with the call.

With one last deep breath to steel himself, Stan pressed the call button.

Ford picked up before the first ring was done. "Stanley, what happened? What did you do!?"

"Well hang on, what makes you think I did something? For your information, Gideon stole the deed to your house and kicked us out! I didn't do anything except steal it back! And also uncover his illegal spy network and send him to jail."

"Wait, Gideon? You mean that boy that was stalking Mabel? Isn't he a child?"

"Yeah, a violent, power hungry child. What, did you think I got arrested again?"

"No, I assumed you had— I thought you finally— I was worried you had done something stupid."

"Like what?"

"Stanley, please, promise me you'll never restart that portal in the basement."

"Ford, how many times do I gotta tell you, I took it down years—"

" Promise me! "

"Yeah, yeah, I promise." Stan said easily, like he hadn't just turned it on.

"I was so worried about you, I was afraid you— that Bill—"

"Oh, uh, speaking of that jerk…" Stan suddenly remembered what had happened that caused him to lose the deed in the first place. "It looks like Gideon is working with him."

"What!?" Ford was already panicking, now it kicked into high gear.

So Stan told the story of how Gideon had sent Bill into his mind to find the safe combination, and when that hadn't worked, resorted to just blowing the safe up. How Gideon had kicked them out. How Stan had sent the young twins home so they'd be safe, only for Gideon to chase after them in a giant robot. How Stan had used his hearing aides to find Gideon's hidden cameras and exposed his crimes to the whole town. He specifically left out anything about the journals.

"This is bad!" Ford's strained voice made it clear he was in the throes of a panic attack. "Bill is trying to find a new pawn to take my place! I'm the one out here facing the dangers of the multiverse, you're supposed to be safe! The kids! They almost— and they saw— Bill has— Gideon is just— he's bad— but— B-bill—"

"Ford, Ford breathe!"

A few gasps rattled through the receiver, far too shallow and fast.

"Listen to me. I'm OK. The kids are OK. Gideon is in prison . Bill's not gonna do anything here, I'll make sure of it."

He could still hear Ford hyperventilating, but he at least seemed to be trying to focus on his breathing now.

"Just follow my breathing." Stan started the familiar routine. "In…" he breathed in as loudly as he could, mouth right over the speaker. Ford's gasping inhale was shaky but deep. "Out…" he continued after eight seconds. They didn't have to repeat it too many times. Ford prided himself in his ability to "focus on his intellect" in order to stave off panic attacks. It was a necessary skill for an interdimensional traveler.

"I just can't believe this is happening. How did Gideon even get in contact with Bill?" Ford asked once he had calmed down.

"Uh, beats me." Stan lied, pushing Journal 2 into place on the bookshelf beside him.

"The hike up to the cave where I found the incantation was arduous, and it was written in a secret language, it seems highly improbable that a child could have found it, much less deciphered it. He may not be working alone."

"I'll keep an eye out for anything suspicious." Stan assured him.

"I'll redouble my efforts." Ford said with determination. "I have to stop him, I can't let Bill get to you, or the rest of the family."

"Just don't push yourself too hard." Stan warned him.

"I'll do whatever it takes." 

“Ford, please, don’t get yourself killed over this.”

“I have no intention of dying.” Ford assured him.

While Ford had visited his fair share of alternate Earths, this was the closest to his own he’d seen yet. It had humans. It had the United States. It had the city of Gravity Falls. It had… him.

Of course, Ford knew logically if there were an infinite number of universes, then there was also a smaller infinity of  Earths and an even smaller infinity of Earths with a Stanford Pines, but he had thought the odds of running across one were infinitesimally small. 

Still, there were major differences. Mainly, this Stanford Pines had completed a properly functioning portal, and was now a lauded scientist with his own International Institute of Oddology! As he wandered the streets of a booming Gravity Falls, people came up to him asking for selfies and autographs!

Ford made a b-line for the institute, located exactly where his house was in his own universe. A fully functioning portal, and his own dimensional counterpart had created it! Surely he would grant use to a fellow Stanford Pines. 

This could finally be his ticket home… but what of his quest to destroy Bill? He still remembered Jheselbraum's words. How could he fulfill his destiny if he returned to his own dimension? 

On the other hand, how could he pass this up? He may never have a chance like this again. Stanley would be furious if he found out Ford had the chance to go home and decided to keep fighting Bill instead. Then again, he didn't necessarily need to tell Stan…

He'd figure it out later. For now, he didn't see why he couldn't just look around and enjoy some of his counterpart's fame. Maybe he'd learn something in the institute that would help him make a decision.

There were guards at the turn off to what Ford recognized as his driveway. The whole property was fenced off. They tensed when he stepped out of the woods, one of them reaching for a taser.

"Easy, gentlemen, it's just me! I, er, forgot my ID, but I'm sure these are enough." He held up his hands to show off his extra fingers.

They immediately tackled him.

The sound of an achingly familiar voice roused Ford shortly after.

“Yep, we confirmed he’s another Parallel. He nearly gave us all a heart-attack down here! … No, not nearly as much as the last one, but we were already on high alert after that…. It’s worth looking into, this is the third time this month. In any case, I think it’s probably safest for you to stay in California for now. What about you? Any episodes in relation to this one? ….Right, just not too many, you went plum crazy when you used ten at once.”

“Fiddleford?” Stanford asked in disbelief.

“Oops! Sounds like he’s awake. I’ll call you back.” The door to Ford’s holding cell opened up, revealing an older but still put together Fiddleford McGucket. He was balding, and the little hair he had left was about half-way through transitioning from gray to white, but there was no mistaking that nose. 

He gave Ford a cautious smile. “You ain’t from around here, are you?”

Ford gulped. “Am I that obvious?”

“Well, between the cloak and goggles, the quantum destabilizer, and the frankly ingenious interdimensional communicator, yes. Add to that the fact that my Stanford’s been in California visiting family for three weeks, and you had essentially zero chance of not being found out.” He pulled out Ford’s phone. “Of all the lost Stanfords to wander through here, this is the first time I’ve seen something like this.”

“Give that back!” Ford demanded, desperately reaching across the table for it.

“Now, don’t get your horses in a hassle, I didn’t do more than admire my counterpart’s handiwork.” Parallel McGucket handed it back. “He may even be better than me!”

Ford looked down at the floor, remembering what Stan had said about his Fiddleford’s deteriorating condition. “Not anymore, I’m afraid.”

McGucket grimaced. “Did he die in the first test?”

Ford was taken aback. “No! No, he’s still alive, last I heard, but Stanley said his mind is all but gone.”

“Stanley? Is your brother with you!?” McGucket asked in a panic, reaching for his own phone again.

“No.” Ford replied, confused. “He’s back in my Gravity Falls. That’s why I need this!” Ford held up his own phone. “It has a signal back to my home dimension. If you let me use your portal, I could finally return!”

Fiddleford’s demeanor brightened immediately. “It’s a relief to hear you say that. Every other Parallel Stanford before you was obsessed with killing Bill Cipher, wouldn’t even dream of goin’ home before fighting that triangle, not when they’d finally completed their quantum destabilizer. I don’t think I could bear to see another one go to their doom.”

“What do you mean? You’re saying I’m not the first Parallel Stanford you’ve met? They’d all completed their quantum destabilizers? How? What power source did they use? Tell me everything you know!”

McGucket sighed and looked at him sadly, and for a moment Ford was afraid his parallel friend would refuse to explain anything, but eventually he spoke. 

“Apparently, there’s a good handful of dimensions where instead of taking the final journal away, your brother pushed you into the portal before you and I could complete the Dimensional Vortex Neutralizer to stabilize the portal so Bill couldn’t slip through any rifts. They all have a similar enough trajectory that we’ve had a dozen or so come through here over the last year. At first, I wanted to help them stop Bill, so I helped them complete their quantum destabilizers. But my Ford is still getting possessed, and none of them ever returned. I fear the worst. I’m beginning to think maybe I shouldn’t help complete any more quantum destabilizers. Not if it means just sending you to your death.”

“Fiddleford, listen. I assure you, each and every one of them knew the risks. If you know what kind of power source I need, if I have an actual chance of destroying Bill, I couldn’t live with myself, going home and knowing that he’s still out there, still manipulating, still possessing, still torturing, still destroying! I’d rather die trying than let him win!”

McGucket’s face fell. “So you really are just like all the others then.”

Ford wracked his mind, trying to think of a way to convince his parallel friend. “You said my counterpart is still getting possessed?”

Fiddleford nodded. “He can’t even be on the same floor as the portal without that monster trying to take control of him. He still got most of the credit and accolades for inventing it, but he can’t explore the other dimensions like he dreamed. It was hard for him, at first, but he’s content just cataloging the local weirdness instead.”

“If I can kill Bill, he’ll finally be free.”

“That’s what the others said. So far none of them have been successful.”

“I’m not saying that I like my odds, but I have to try! Fiddleford, please!”

McGucket finally relented. “Alright. But on your head be it!”

As they worked, it was clear Parallel McGucket wasn’t happy. Ford tried to start a conversation to avoid the awkward silence. 

“So Stan actually hid my first journal in this universe?”

“Yep.”

“That doesn’t seem like him.”

“You still talk to your Stan, using that phone?”

“Yes.”

“I’d say that doesn’t seem like you. But even the similar parallel universes have their differences.”

Ford looked at his parallel friend, a horrible idea creeping in. “What happened to Stanley in this dimension? Where is he?”

“That’s classified.”

“Is he ok?”

“He’d better be. Otherwise, we’re all in deep trouble.”

Ford gave him a questioning look.

“Like I said, it’s classified. This dimension is safe from Bill, largely thanks to the efforts of our Stan…. It’s not that your counterpart doesn’t want to talk to his brother. He literally can’t. If Ford knows where Stan is, so does Bill. And that would be disastrous. There’s a lot of people out there who would love to build a portal like this one, and Bill’d be more than happy to give them instructions.”

“...He’s still hiding the last journal?”

“All three of them now, actually. We learned the hard way not to keep them in one place too long. Some elementary school kid found the second one about 25 years ago. We almost didn’t catch him in time. Stan is constantly moving them all over the place. We have an untraceable account open just for his travel expenses.”

“Why not just destroy them?”

“We tried. They’ve got some sort of powerful enchantment on them; the forest service found them a week later. That was another close call.”

“...I don’t remember any enchantment.”

“That may be unique to our dimension.”

The ice broken, they proceeded to talk as they worked, discussing the differences between their worlds, their travels to alternate dimensions, and the unfortunate collapse of a dimension when one of the institute’s security officers came into physical contact with her parallel self.

Since Parallel Fiddleford had redesigned quantum destabilizers on several previous occasions, they managed to outfit Ford’s with a NowUSeeitNowUDontium power source in a matter of hours. Now that it was complete, Ford pulled out his phone, then glanced back at the quantum destabilizer sitting on the table. His eyes kept trailing from one to the other, conflict raging inside him enough to make him dizzy. 

“It’s not too late.” McGucket encouraged him. “You could be home in time for dinner.”

“...And I’d hate myself for the rest of my life.” Ford frowned. Well, more than he already did. “May I have a moment alone, please?”

“Alright, but I gotta lock you in from the outside for security reasons. Knock when you’re done.”

Ford nodded to show he understood. He pressed the call button. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed when it went to voicemail. 

“Hey Ford, I’m… I’m working on something big here at the Shack. So I’m gonna be unavailable for a while. But I’ll see— I mean, I’ll talk to you soon.”

Ford had to take a few deep breaths before he found the confidence to speak.

“Stanley. I… I’d hoped to be able to speak directly to you today, but maybe this is for the best. Maybe I would lose my nerve, otherwise. I finally completed the quantum destabilizer. I’m going to confront Bill. If I survive, I’ll see you soon…. Who am I kidding?” He took another shaky breath. “We both know how unlikely that is. I’m sorry, you wasted so much of your life trying to help me. But I’m indescribably grateful you did. I never would have made it this far without your voice carrying me through. ” He felt tears rolling down his cheeks. “The past 30 years were hard, but they were bearable, because of you. Please, you deserve to move on and have a good life without me. I hope you can make your peace with this like I have." His voice cracked, and he could barely whisper the last part. "I just wish I could have seen your face, one more time. Goodbye, Stanley. I love you.”

He hung up before he could break into full sobs and took a few minutes to compose himself before knocking on the door. 

“You’re sure—” Parallel Fiddleford began to ask.

“I’m ready.” Ford cut him off. “Let’s do this.”

24 hours ago, Stan had been on top of the world. The portal was about to open, and he had everything ready for when Ford returned. Except one thing. He had been putting off telling Mabel and Dipper everything. He'd even gone out of his way to have an extra fun morning with them to put them in a good mood, but he still chickened out. Then some government agents jumped him, and now it was too late.

It had taken everything he had to escape those agents and get back home in time for the portal to open. Only to find Mabel, Dipper, and Soos down in the portal lab. They had found all the Journals, and the blacklight messages warning against opening the portal. That on top of all the accusations the agents had been throwing around and the box of fake IDs turned the kids against him. (Dang it! He'd held onto those just in case he had trouble reestablishing his own "legal" identity after giving Ford back his name. He should have just thrown them out years ago)

Dipper seemed especially upset, yelling accusations about lying and stealing toxic waste and warning lights.

Stan looked over to the blinking light Dipper was pointing to. "Kid, that's not a warning light, that's a voicemail recorder." Because of course. Of course Ford had tried to call right before the portal opened.

Unfortunately, all the other things Dipper had accused him of were true, and the kid wasn't interested in hearing Stan's explanation. Even Soos was ignoring orders now! Mabel was the only one who seemed even kind of willing to listen, and she was crying, which made Stan feel like the lowest scum of the Earth.

“I don’t even know if you’re my grunkle!” She sobbed. “I wanna believe you, but—”

“Then listen to me!” How was he going to explain this in the 25 seconds before the portal opened? “This morning, I wanted to tell you guys, I’m not who you think I am, but that doesn’t make you any less my family! And all of this, I swear on my life , is for our family!”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Dipper yelled, still struggling against Stan’s grasp. “This thing could destroy the universe, turn it off, Mabel!”

“I know what I’m doing! Trust me! It is dangerous, but I’ve taken every precaution I can. I got a plan!”

“How do we know you’re not lying about this too?”

“Mabel, look at me! Can you really look me in the eyes and believe I’m lying about this?”

Mabel looked between her brother and her Grunkle, looking more stressed than Stan had ever seen her. The computer started counting down from ten, adding onto the pressure. For a moment, it looked like she was going to press the button, but at the last second she let go.

“Grunkle Stan, I trust you.”

He just about died right then and there, when it looked like she was about to float right into the portal herself. But before she could, the clock reached zero, and the force of the portal opening fully pushed them all back against the wall.

When the tinnitus finally wore off, Stan staggered to his feet. The portal lab was a mess, but it could have been a lot worse. Thanks to what little information he’d been able to get out of McGucket and his own efforts to improve the portal’s structural integrity, the gravity anomalies hadn’t been as severe as the journals originally projected, and the triangular frame was still standing.

Stan kept his eyes trained on the still glowing center, where a figure began to emerge. His heart leapt when Ford jumped through. His brother’s face was mostly obscured by a dark scarf and reflective goggles, but it wasn’t enough to obscure a war of emotions, a different one taking shape every second. A lot of them were in the upset family though. 

“Uh, surprise!” Stan said weakly. 

Chapter Text

Ford was at war with himself. He wanted to laugh, he wanted to cry, he wanted to scream. He wanted to punch Stan square in the jaw. He wanted to hug his brother and never let go. He wanted to go back to the Nightmare Realm and finish this. He wanted to never, ever leave his home again. He wanted to die fighting Bill, he wanted to live in this moment forever. 

As he stood there frozen in indecision, Stan rushed forward and embraced him, and he instinctively punched his perceived attacker. Stan reeled back with a soft “ow” and rubbed his cheek, but he didn’t get another word out before Ford embraced him. He felt himself melting into his brother’s arms; he was in ecstasy. He realized he might be just a little bit touch starved. Stan was crying, so of course Ford started crying too.

After a moment, Stan held him at arm's length, and Ford could feel his body practically scream out to be held close again. 

“Let me get a good look at ya. I haven’t seen your face in 30 years!”

Ford belatedly realized he was still wearing his protective scarf and goggles. He pulled them off. It had been his last wish, to see his brother again, and now here he was. But at what cost?

His face contorted into an expression of horror and indignation. “Are you insane? What have you done?” He hissed.

"Relax. The world's still standing, Bill's not here. It's fine."

"It is not fine , how many times have I told you, this portal is unstable!"

"I know! It's accounted for! I have a plan. Believe it or not, I was listening to you."

"Really? The fact that I'm standing here says otherwise."

“Hi! Mabel here!” Their argument was interrupted by a young girl. “Quick question: What the heck is going on here!?”

Ford stared at her. He’d been so preoccupied he hadn’t even noticed there were other people down here with them. He glanced around and spied a young boy and a vaguely gopherish man.

“You brought the kids down here!?”

“Hey, I didn’t bring them, they snuck down here on their own.”

Ford took a deep breath to calm himself. This was his first time meeting his niblings, he wanted to do this right. “I apologize, I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings as I normally would. You must be Mabel. Which means you must be Dipper, and am I correct in assuming you’re Soos?” He spoke to each of them in turn.

“Y-you know who we are?” Dipper stammered.

“Of course! Stanley has spoken very highly of all of you.”

They all looked at him in confusion, and he caught Stan making a cut-off gesture out of the corner of his eye. That was just like Stan, to deny he’d ever spoken highly of anyone.

“I’m your other great uncle, Stanford Pines.” If anything, their expressions became more dumbfounded. “I know this must come as quite a shock. I’ve been presumed dead since before any of you were born.” 

“Wait, I thought your name was Stanford?” Mabel pointed at Stan.

“ That’s what you meant when you said you’re not who we think you are?” Dipper asked.

Ford narrowed his eyes on his brother. “Stanley, did you steal my identity ?”

“I like to think of it more like I was saving a spot in the US legal system for you.”

Ford shot him an unimpressed glare.

“Listen, it would’ve been a whole ordeal to undo you being legally dead, not to mention your disappearance would have raised a lot of questions, and I would have been suspect numero uno. Meanwhile, it took almost six months for anyone to notice I was missing, and when someone finally did, it was the guys I owed a whole lot of money. It was so much easier to fake my death. Rico and his goons stopped trying to find me, Ma cried, Pa felt bad for maybe the whole seven days of Shiva, Shermie was so upset he forgot to tell me he had a kid, and then life went on as usual for everyone.”

Ford frowned. “Why didn’t you say anything?” He would have been a bit upset at first, sure, but if Stan had just explained all of it like he had just now, he would have understood.

“You had enough to worry about.” Stan shrugged.

“Wow! It seems like there’s a lot more to this story!” Mabel interjected again. “Maybe an entire mysterious backstory that you guys should share!”

“Yeah, Grunkle Stan, you owe us some answers!” Dipper agreed.

Ford fidgeted. He kept forgetting they were there. “It is a very long story.”

“Nah, they’re right.” Stan said. “Besides, we’ve got nothing but time until those agents clear out.”

“Agents!?”

“Let me tell you the story, and you’ll find out!”

After explaining everything, erasing the government agents' memories, and sending the kids to bed, Ford was exhausted. But he knew he still had work to do. He turned to Stan.

"You're mad." Stan said. It wasn't a question.

Ford huffed. "Yes, I'm mad." How could he not be?

"I knew you'd be mad."

"Then why did you do it?"

"Cuz I'd rather you be mad than dead , genius!"

Ford growled. He knew it would be better for everyone if he had died, but he also knew that argument would go nowhere with Stan. So he shifted the subject.

"Even if Bill wasn't able to come through the portal when it opened, it was still unstable enough to—"

"To rip a tear in the fabric of space and time." Stan finished, "Yeah, I know. I talked to McGucket about it. I told you, I got a plan. C'mon, I could use your help."

They walked into the room that held the secret entrance to the portal lab, which Stan had converted into a gift shop for the Mystery Shack. Ford had never been a fan of the tourist trap concept, but he'd understood that Stan needed to make a living, and he'd had much bigger problems to worry about, so he never complained about it when it came up in conversation. 

However, now that he was seeing it in real life, he was sorely tempted to complain. As he'd expected, it wasn't to his taste at all. There didn't appear to be a shred of accuracy, authenticity, or fact in the whole place. Instead of anything detailing the actual wonders of Gravity Falls, there were just poorly done, mismatched taxidermy and obviously doctored photos. He knew they didn't have time to get into an argument over this (and there would be an argument, he knew) but he couldn't help but shoot a glare at Stan when he spotted the Burpin' Stanford Pines toys next to the vending machine.

"Don't look at me like that!" Stan said defensively as he punched in the code. "Merchandise is where the good money is."

"You couldn't have come up with merchandise that didn't drag my name through the mud?"

Stan rolled his eyes, stepping down the stairs. "It's not dragging your name through the mud, it's just a harmless toy!"

" Burpin' Stanford Pines."

"Everyone burps, genius."

"You could have at least spelled it correctly."

They continued bickering until the elevator let them out on the bottom floor. Loose papers and tools and even a few pieces of scrap that had fallen off the portal were scattered everywhere, but mostly, things appeared to still be intact. A blinking red light at the console desk drew his gaze.

"Oh, right, you left me a voicemail." Stan said, looking at him like his brother standing here next to him was the most novel thing to ever happen. "Heh, I guess your last one."

Ford's heart dropped. Stan hadn't listened to it yet. He didn't know what Ford had been about to do. He didn't know.

He couldn't know.

"Y'know, some part of me is gonna miss these. Let's listen to it together." Stan pressed the play button. Ford reached over and turned it off before the first syllable was played.

"We need to secure the rift. What's your so-called plan?"

"Right." Stan said sheepishly. "C'mon, I'll show you."

He led his brother over to a panel in the side of the portal that hadn't been a part of the original design. Inside were twelve test tubes, each connected to a black plastic pipe that seemed to lead up to the portal's aperture. One of them had a blob of swirling colors floating inside, no larger than a man's thumb.

"I figured it would form inside the ring of the portal, so I got a bunch of shop vacs and rigged them up around the edge. Then I just modded them so the rift would get sucked into a safety tube instead of the vacuum." Stan explained.

Ford was surprised that it had worked. He would have expected the force of being sucked through a tube to destabilize the rift, but it appeared to be fine. For now.

"What are these tubes made of?"

"Shatterproof glass. They say it's bullet proof, but in my experience if it takes more than two bullets it's done for."

Ford nodded. "That may hold it for a month or so, but the pressure is going to continue to build as more and more weirdness leaks through the rift. It will start cracking eventually. Then what?"

Stan shrugged. "I was thinking about encasing it in a block of concrete and dropping it in the lake."

Ford looked at him incredulously.

"I guess from how you're looking at me like I'm crazy, that's not a good idea?"

"Actually the concert might buy us some more time, but dropping it in the lake is a horrible idea! It will break through the concrete too, eventually, and if it's at the bottom of the lake we'll have no way to access it!"

"Ok, so yes to concrete, no to the lake. And then once the concrete starts breaking we'll seal it in a barrel or something."

"We can't just keep putting it in bigger and bigger containers! Eventually, they'll all fail. Not to mention, Bill will stop at nothing to open them! We need a more permanent solution."

Stan's face fell. "I know. But at least we've got time to come up with a permanent solution, right?"

Ford heaved an irritated sigh. "I hope, for the universe's sake, that you're right." He carefully placed his quantum destabilizer down on the control console. "I genuinely hope I never have another chance to use this."

"Yeah." Stan agreed awkwardly. "Well, it's kinda late to start tearing this thing down. Let's listen to this voicemail, then we can call it a night."

Ford stiffened. "You don't have to listen to it, I'm right here."

"I know! That's why I wanna listen to it with you here. It'll be, I dunno, cathartic or something."

"Stanley, don't!" Ford shouted as his brother reached for the play button.

Stan pinned him with a searching glare. "Why don't you want me to listen to it, Ford?"

Ford found himself unable to answer.

"What did you say?"

"It-it says… it says I…I…" He should just lie. Say it was something embarrassing. But he couldn't think of anything on the spot like this.

Stan hit the play button.

"...Goodbye, Stanley. I love you."

More emotions than Stan normally dealt with swirled through him as the dire voicemail reached its end. Ford's loving words warmed his heart, but they also felt hollow, coming from what was essentially a suicide note. The fact that Ford was alive and well beside him added a level of surrealism, and a target for anger to latch onto.

Ford's poker face had obviously gotten better over the years, as Stan couldn't read his expression. 

"I can't believe this. You don't get to be mad! Not when I just saved your life! How could you have gone to fight Bill, your gun wasn't even finished!?"

"I finally finished it a few minutes before I called you." Ford said. He explained about the parallel earth he'd found, about the parallel McGucket he'd met. About the fully functioning portal their counterparts had built. Ford refused to meet Stan's eye at that part.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" Stan roared. "You're telling me you could have been home, what, yesterday?"

"You ended up bringing me back barely 24 hours later. It hardly makes a difference." Ford retorted.

"It makes a difference in me getting arrested by government goons! And maybe then we wouldn't have the rift to worry about!"

"We wouldn't have to worry about it if you hadn't activated the portal in the first place!"

"So I'm just supposed to have left you out there to get killed by Bill?"

"Yes, you should have!"

It was like an icy dagger through Stan's heart. 

"I was seconds away from taking the shot, from finally fulfilling my destiny of killing Bill Cipher, and yes, I probably would have died too, but at least my death would have done some good!" His face finally broke into anguish. "Now I have to live with the knowledge that I've failed yet again! You saved me, but at what cost? You endangered the world, you endangered the kids , you endangered yourself , and for what? A hubristic, hypocritical, arrogant, toxic, gullible fool who can't even sacrifice himself properly! I —I'm not worth that, Stanley."

"Shut up!" Stan shouted. "Yes you are! You are to me! Don't talk about yourself like that! I'm the screw up, not you! I take it back, you can be mad at me. Just don't be mad at yourself. I'm the one who opened the portal when you told me not to. I'm the one who got you trapped out there in the first place."

Ford's face twisted up in confusion and frustration. "Stanley, it was an accident. I never properly explained, you didn't kn—"

"I knew you were asking me for help. But did I do what you asked? No, I had to go and pick a fight."

"Of course you did, I worded my request in the worst way possible."

"And then I lied to you about stealing your identity and tearing down the portal—"

"I knew." 

That finally gave Stan pause. "What?"

"I knew you never tore it down. If you had, the phone would have stopped working."

Stan saw red. " What ?"

"If you had actually torn down the portal, there wouldn't be a way to send the signal into the multiverse."

"You mean you were trying to get me to cut off all communication with you this whole time?" Stan wanted to throttle Ford right now. "...Wait, if you knew I was lying, why didn't you ever call me out on it? Why'd you keep calling me back if you wanted me to tear it down?"

Ford looked like he wanted to throttle himself too. "I was weak. I didn't want to lose my last connection to my home, to you . I-I let you endanger yourself."

Stan's anger drained away, and he gave his brother a hug. Ford went boneless in his arms again.

"Well, I wouldn't have torn it down either way. Tell you what, no more self loathing for either of us."

Ford scoffed. "If only it was that easy."

Stan gave a wry chuckle. "Don't I know it?"

"This is an awful idea. I shouldn't be here…. I-I'm going home."

But before Ford could run away, Stan grabbed him roughly by the arm. 

Ford barely held back his reflex to attack anything that tried to catch him. " Don't." He warned Stan with a growl.

Stan let go, but he still stood in front of his brother's exit route. "We need his help to contain the rift, Ford." 

"No we don't! If I can find the adhesive from Crash Site Omega, it should seal the rift permanently!"

Mabel frowned. "But don't you want to see your old friend McGucket?"

"He won't even remember me."

"Actually, he seemed to be doing a lot better at the Northwest's party last night." Dipper said.

"Even if he does remember me, he won't want to see me! I ruined his life!"

"Hey, he's not exactly my biggest fan either." Stan assured his brother. “But we can all agree, we need all the help we can get, and McGucket's our best bet."

"...Yes…" Ford reluctantly agreed. "But is it really necessary for me to be here? We're just dropping in, unannounced, with four people. W-we don't want to overwhelm him. I-I'll wait back at the Shack."

"There were four of us when we dropped by unannounced to ask him about his laptop, and he was just happy to have visitors." Dipper patted him on the back. "It'll be OK, Great Uncle Ford, we promise."

Ford smiled sheepishly down at the boy. 

If it hadn't been for the threat of the rift hanging over their heads, Ford would have no problem saying the last week was the best of his life. Seeing Stan again, getting to know his niblings, rediscovering his Gravity Falls, it was like a dream come true. But it quickly turned into a nightmare when he realized it was only a matter of time before Bill came to destroy it all. He couldn't sit down and enjoy a game of DDMD with Dipper or taste test Mabel Juice without guilt and fear boiling just beneath the surface. He did his best to hide it from the kids, and so far they didn't seem to notice. 

But Stan already knew, so Ford found himself taking out his frustrations on his brother. What should have been harmless venting sessions almost always turned into arguments. Somehow being in the same room and removing the option to hang up when things got heated made just talking to each other, something they'd been doing for 30 years, much more difficult.

Despite the constant bickering, he hoped Stan realized how happy he was to have his brother back in the flesh. Even if Stan dragged him along to ask Fiddleford for help because "You gotta confront your issues, it's supposed to be good for your brain or something."

They reached the middle of the dump, where they found a small but surprisingly well built shelter made from the surrounding scrap. There appeared to be some recent modifications, including a satellite antenna and reinforced walls. They could hear someone singing to themselves inside, along with the occasional bang of a hammer.

"Hey McGucket!" Mabel called with a sing-song voice. "Can we ask you for help with something?"

The singing stopped, and the shelter door creaked open. 

"Why, sure thing, little lady! What can I do ya for?" 

A figure stepped out of the shelter. He looked ancient, with a long white beard that almost dragged on the ground, missing teeth, bowed legs, and a posture so stooped he barely came up to Ford's chest. This couldn't be Fiddleford! He was only three years older, and they'd always been about the same height, McGucket had only seemed smaller because he was so willowy compared to Ford's broad shouldered build.

But there was no mistaking that nose. Or the way he froze when his eyes fell on Ford.

"... You." He whispered.

"F-Fiddleford." Stanford responded just as quietly. “I’m—”

“You actually turned it on!?” Fiddleford apparently hadn’t heard his former friend, because he immediately turned to Stan and started yelling. “I never shoulda helped you! I never shoulda even talked to you! If I’d remembered, if I’d realized who you were an’ what you were tryin’ ta do, I woulda run you out of town! You’ve doomed us all! You— you idiot! You madman! You—”

“Stop!” Ford exclaimed. “Don’t talk to Stanley like that! It’s not his fault, it’s mine! It’s all my fault!” He fell down to his hands and knees. “Fiddleford, I am so, so sorry. If I’d only listened to you, none of this ever would have happened. I’ve regretted it every day these past 30 years. I know, you must hate me, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But… we do need your help.”

“Stanford…” Fiddleford looked down on him with a mixture of surprise and pity. “I… don’t hate you. What even gave you that idea?”

Ford looked up at his former friend, dumbfounded. “How could you not? I-I ruined your life—”

“I reckon I did that myself.” 

“What?”

“That there memory gun is what ruined my life, not you.” Fiddleford reached out and helped Ford back to his feet. “You made yer mistakes, sure enough, and the consequences are terrifying, but I don’t see no point in blamin’ you for more on top of that.” He shot a glare at Stan. “And I reckon yer brother oughta be responsible for his own actions too.”

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” Stan glared back. “Go ahead and hate me, see if I care.”

“Stan...” Ford reprimanded him.

“Can it, Poindexter!” Stan snapped, making a meaningful glance towards Dipper and Mabel. Right. They didn’t want to start another argument in front of the kids. 

“So what’s it that ya need my help with?” McGucket asked. 

“Opening the portal created a small rift in the fabric of space and time.” Ford explained. “We’ve contained it for now, but it will slowly grow over time as weirdness energy leaks through it. We need to permanently close it before it grows large enough for any beings from the Nightmare Realm to come through.”

Fiddleford convulsed at the mention of the Nightmare Realm, his eyes losing focus and his hands tearing at what little hair he had left at the top of his head. After a few seconds, it passed, and he began patting his overalls like he was looking for something, before shaking himself. 

“Consarn it, Fiddleford, you’re not doin’ that again! It wouldn’t work, anyway…” He muttered.

“Uh, Great Uncle Ford said he already has some ideas.” Dipper gave Fiddleford a comforting pat on the back. It seemed like the boy knew what was bothering him. “But you’re the one who figured out the portal was dangerous in the first place, so we could really use your expert opinion.”

“Plus, this is the perfect opportunity for you guys to reconnect!” Mabel added.

Fiddleford nodded. "I reckon it's in everyone's best interest if I help then, huh?"

Ford's heart dropped. Of course, Fiddleford wasn't doing this because he still wanted to be friends. No one would refuse to help when the fate of the entire universe hung in the balance. 

"And… it would be nice to catch up. It's been a long time, old friend."

It felt like Ford had been knocked over, in the best way possible.

Trying to add something to the conversation when Ford and McGucket got going was like trying to finger paint next to Picasso and Van Gogh. Stan counted himself lucky he could even follow what they were talking about. Thirty years studying the portal had given him a baseline understanding of the complex metaphysics they were discussing, but Stan was self-taught, and he didn't understand half the technical terms they were throwing around. It took him a half hour of listening to context clues to realize that "the Heisenberg principle" was just the technical term for the fact that you could know either the speed or the position of a subatomic particle like an electron, but never both. Why couldn't everything have a self explanatory name like "Wave-Particle Duality"?

Behind all the jargon and complex equations, the crux of the argument was that Stan and McGucket wanted to focus on creating an improved containment unit, but Ford was insistent that any containment was doomed to eventually fail. He wanted to find a way to close the rift.

McGucket said the rift was already too large to seal, but Ford insisted that there was an alien substance that would do the trick.

“I ain’t goin’ back there!” McGucket said vehemently.

“No, of course, I wouldn’t ask you to.” Ford assured him with a worried frown. So there was obviously more to the story here, but Stan wasn’t about to pry. “Still, I can’t retrieve it myself. I’ll need some help.”

“Yeah, alright, I’ll go.” Stan said. They both looked over like they’d forgotten he was there.

“Oh, well, actually I was planning on asking Dipper and Mabel—”

“I’m sorry, did you say you were planning on bringing our 12-year-old great niblings to a freaking UFO crash site?”

“They’ll be 13 at the end of the month—”

“Oh, yeah, that makes a huge difference!”

“The crash happened 30 million years ago, there’s no living aliens left, and the craft itself is defunct. It’s perfectly safe.”

“Uh huh. And that’s why McGucket here refused to go back there the second you brought it up.”

Ford shot his friend a pleading look. McGucket twitched before speaking. The act of remembering exactly what had happened was apparently difficult. “There weren’t no problems when we were in the UFO. It’s what happened afterwards…”

“It was my fault.” Ford insisted. “I tried to take a shortcut back home, and we ran into a dangerous anomaly. I won’t make the same mistake again.”

Stan still wasn’t convinced.

“Stanley, please, they’ll have to go back home soon. I just want to be able to spend more time with them! You’ve had the whole summer together with the kids!”

“...I don’t trust you to be able to look after the kids alone.” Stan said after a moment piecing together the right words.

He’d expected Ford to be hurt, to argue that he couldn’t do any worse than Stan already had. He hadn’t expected his brother to look like he understood, like Stan’s mistrust was fair.

“So today isn’t a good day, then?” Was all he said.

It was McGucket’s turn to look them both over, see there was obviously more to the story, and decide he didn’t want to pry.

“I guess not.” Stan replied before sighing. “Ok, ok, you can take them. But only if I come too.”

The trek up to Crash Site Omega had started out well enough. They were making it into a sort of family outing. Mabel had only lightly protested that this would cut into her party planning time, but their birthday wasn’t for another week. She would make up for it later.

So they all piled into Stan’s car and began the drive out to the farmer’s field where the entrance to Crash Site Omega was located. And Ford tried not to let the fact that Stan didn’t trust him alone with the kids get to him.

Sure, he had given Mabel a crossbow to defend herself when she went out to retrieve the unicorn hair to protect the Shack. It would have been far more irresponsible to send her out without a way to protect herself, and he couldn’t have come along with her, he wasn’t welcome in the unicorn’s glade after last time! Besides, he knew for a fact that Stan had let the kids run around with an ax just a few days after they’d arrived here! And sure, he had freaked Dipper out when Project Mentem had revealed his memories of first making the deal with Bill, but was that really any worse than how the pieces of Stan’s own sordid past had freaked the kids out right before the portal was opened?

Despite all this, Ford couldn’t really blame Stan. Because there were things he couldn’t bring himself to trust Stan with. When they got out of the car to hike the rest of the way, and Ford needed both his hands free for the compass and his magnet gun, he’d asked Dipper to carry the rift. Judging by his expression, the snub wasn’t lost on Stan, but he didn’t say anything about it. 

As they descended into the cavernous remains of the UFO, Dipper looked around with wondrous awe. When they reached the bottom, Mabel zipped over to the nearest console and looked at all the tantalizing buttons.

"Mabel, Sweetie, don't touch anything, we don't know what it does." Stan warned her.

"Nonsense, everything down here is defunct. You can touch anything you like." Ford corrected.

"I'm touching everything!" Mabel cheered, immediately slapping both arms down on the console. Nothing happened except a cloud of dust kicked up by her movement.

Ford grinned smugly as Stan glared at him.

"If we all die down here, I'm blaming you."

"Relax, Stan, I used to come down here all the time. It's safe."

The search was slow going, mostly because Mabel insisted on stopping and touching everything she possibly could, but eventually Dipper managed to find a container full of the alien adhesive using the magnet gun. It had been an accident, but Ford still praised him for it.

Things were going smoothly, until they weren't.

There was a clattering sound down one of the darkened corridors. Everyone froze.

"So much for 'everything down here is dead'." Stan muttered.

"Technically, I'm still correct. It must be the security system, which was never alive in the first place."

"I don't care if it's technically not alive! What are we gonna do about it?"

Two security droids hovered out of the gloom and buzzed out a warning that Ford's universal translator interpreted as "Unidentified life forms detected in restricted area. Prepare for capture and detainment."

"Listen to me very carefully." Ford spoke slowly and calmly. "I've studied these; they're security droids and they detect adrenaline. You simply have to not feel any fear and they won't see you."

"You gotta be kidding me." Stan said, but his tone was flat and even. He was doing it!

"What!? That's crazy!" Dipper cried. The boy was struggling.

"Just think of them as harmless human-sized hamster balls!" Mabel suggested. She closed her eyes. "Human sized hamster balls. Human sized hamster balls…" she chanted.

"Wha-I-I…" Dipper stammered. He was the only one who was panicking now. The droids converged on him.

"Focus, Dipper." Ford encouraged him, barely keeping his own fear at bay. "Just take a deep breath, focus on your intellect, and control your fear."

"I can't!"

One of the droids produced a gun from its interior. Ford pushed Dipper out of the way and destroyed the first droid with his own blaster, but the second one had its own weapon out by then, and it shot him with a blast of white light. It only stunned him, but before he could climb back to his feet, half a dozen arms shot out of the droid and began to drag him towards its now open containment bay.

"Ford!" Stan shouted. He and Dipper were about to rush in to try and save Ford, but the scientist instead shoved the container of alien adhesive towards them.

"Stay back! It's too dangerous!" If the droid captured all of them, there would be no one left to bring the adhesive back to McGucket and seal the rift. The universe would be doomed. "Sealing the rift is what's important! You're gonna have to do it without me! Use the adhesive! Fix the rift!"

The sphere closed up and zoomed down the hallway, and Ford watched as his family got smaller and smaller with distance.

Except one.

Dipper had pulled out his magnet gun, and was now dangling off the droid as he kicked and punched at it, trying to get it to stop.

"Dipper, what on earth are you doing!?" 

"Don't worry, I— I'll think of something!" Dipper tried to assure his great uncle. "I'll get you out of there!"

The droid attached itself to a small shuttle, and flickering displays around them showed it was preparing to launch to a prison facility on a distant star.

"Where's this thing taking you?" Dipper asked.

"It's an automated prison droid! And wherever it's going, I'm not coming back!"

Rather than getting the kid to let go like Ford had hoped, this only prompted Dipper to duck tape his hand to the magnet gun so he couldn't be shaken loose.

"Are you crazy!? You'll never survive the launch through the atmosphere! Let go, Dipper!"

"No! Nothing in this universe is gonna take away my uncle! I'm getting you out of this, one way or another!"

The shuttle shot off at speed, and miraculously, the added drag of Dipper dangling off the back was enough to set off some warnings in the system, significant enough to prevent it from attempting to leave the planet. Instead it began flying erratically all over the valley, trying to shake the boy off.

They passed over the hill where the entrance to Crash Site Omega was located. He could see Stan and Mabel as the shuttle swooped down. He was close enough to see the fear in his brother's eyes. Fear and something else. Regret? Resignation? Guilt? 

Oh no.

Ford realized Stan was holding the rift. How had he gotten it? It had been in Dipper's bag!

Ford shook his head furiously. Stan looked him in the eye, mouth set in a firm, determined line, and nodded once.

Stan threw the rift to the ground.

"How could you!?" Ford yelled, even though there was little chance that anyone other than Dipper could hear him.

Chapter Text

The weird floating orbs were blocking the only way out of the room.

"Listen to me very carefully." Ford spoke slowly and calmly. "I've studied these; they're security droids and they detect adrenaline. You simply have to not feel any fear and they won't see you."

"You gotta be kidding me." Stan had plenty of experience showing no fear. It was the same with Rico's goons. Honestly it was easier with the orb guys, they didn't shout or sneer or point knives at him.

Unfortunately, the kids were not experienced in that department, and while Mabel's strategy of imagining her way out of it seemed to be working, Dipper wasn't so lucky. One of the orbs pulled out a gun, and Ford tackled the kid out of the way before Stan could react. Unfortunately, blasting the first orb to bits left Ford wide open to the second orb's shot.

"Ford!" Stan shouted, as weird robotic tentacles wrapped around his brother's legs and arms. Stan had barely run two steps towards him when Ford pushed the alien glue towards him.

"Stay back! It's too dangerous!" Ford warned them, "Sealing the rift is what's important! You're gonna have to do it without me! Use the adhesive! Fix the rift!"

Stan's desire to save his brother was suddenly accompanied by an equally strong desire to punch him. He was about to tell Ford to shut up when the orb zoomed away, with Ford inside.

"Great Uncle Ford!" Dipper yelled, pulling out his magnet gun. He fired it at the orb and was yanked off his feet as it pulled him forward.

"Kid!"

"Dipper!"

Stan and Mabel chased after them, but the orb was too fast. They could hear Dipper and Ford's voices echoing down the hall.

"Where's this thing taking you?"

"It's an automated prison droid! And wherever it's going, I'm not coming back!"

Stan's blood ran cold, and he picked up the pace.

They could see the flash of light as the shuttle shot into the sky before they could catch up. Stan noticed the ladder back up to the surface not far from them.

"You still got that grappling hook, sweetie?"

"Never leave home without it!" Mabel pulled it out from under her sweater.

"We gotta get up there, now!"

One terrifying grappling hook trip later, they were standing atop the hill in the middle of the farmer's field. They could see the shuttle flying around like a stunt plane, looping and swooping and flying through the trees like it was trying to shake something off. They could see Dipper dangling off the back like a banner. 

Mabel gasped when she noticed the bright purple duck tape that enabled him to keep his hold so well. She opened her bag and pulled out the rift.

"We must have switched bags on accident!"

Stan took the rift. This alien thing was trying to take not just his brother away, but Mabel's brother too. His great nephew. And this time, there was no phone to keep in touch with, no portal he could bring them back with.

He couldn't do anything to stop it himself.

But he knew Bill wouldn't let his favorite puppet get away that easily.

The shuttle swooped down close enough that they could see Ford, trapped in the orb embedded in the back. Stan locked eyes with his brother. Ford could obviously tell what Stan was planning because he shook his head vigorously. 

Stan just nodded. He just got his brother back, he wasn't going to lose Ford again. He wasn't going to subject Mabel to the same misery.

He threw the rift to the ground as hard as he could. 

He saw Ford mouth the words "How could you?"

A mess of colors exploded out of the rift as it bounced off the ground, shattering its container. It knocked the shuttle out of the sky, spiraling out of control towards the Mystery Shack.

"Mabel, run!" Stan ordered.

"What? No, I'm not leaving you!" She clung to his leg.

Crap. This was how Ford felt when Stan refused to destroy the portal, wasn't it? He didn't even have time to decide if he was going to be a hypocrite or not before Bill snapped his fingers and Mabel instantly fell asleep.

"Hey, what did you do to her!?" Stan shouted at the demon looming over him.

"OH-HO, DON'T WORRY. I ALWAYS LIKED SHOOTING STAR. I THINK I'LL GIVE HER A NICE DREAM BUBBLE WHERE SHE'LL BE SAFELY OUT OF THE WAY."

With another snap, a glowing pink ball formed around her and slowly floated away.

"You let her go!" Stan screamed and rushed at Bill, winding up for a left hook. Before he could land a single blow, he found himself frozen in mid air by a red glow.

"WELL, WELL, WELL, STANLEY PINES. GOTTA ADMIT, OF ALL THE PINES TO FINALLY FREE ME, I WASN'T EXPECTING YOU. EVEN I'M WRONG ONCE IN A MILENA. YOU DESERVE A PRIZE!"

"If you wanna thank me, let Mabel go and stay away from my family!" Stan growled.

"HAHA! IT'S FUNNY YOU THINK YOU HAVE A SAY IN ANYTHING. OH, I KNOW! HOW ABOUT YOUR WEIGHT IN GOLD?"

With a snap, Stan was turned into a gold statue, frozen in mid-punch.

"NOW, WHERE DID SIXER CRASH LAND? I WANT THE COMPLETE SET."

The alien prison shuttle crashed within sight of the Mystery Shack. Dipper was miraculously unharmed, but he had to help Ford up from the wreckage and support him as they staggered to safety.

"Mabel! She and Stan are in danger, we have to go back for them!" Dipper insisted as Ford punched in the code to open up the basement lab.

"There's only one thing we can do to help them now." Ford said gravely. "We have to stop Bill."

"Is that even possible?" Dipper asked.

"I'm not sure." Ford admitted. "But I have to try."

Once they reached the lab, Ford rummaged through his first aid supplies from his interdimensional travels, pulling out what looked like a small epi pen. It was an instant healing serum, extremely rare and expensive. It was his only one. He'd been saving it for an emergency. This definitely qualified. He flipped open both ends and jabbed it into his leg. The pain of his various wounds intensified for a few seconds and he hissed before his cells began stitching themselves back together and it all faded away. The swelling in his ankle went away and he was able to stand upright again.

Next, he grabbed his quantum destabilizer from where it rested against the wall, unlocking its case and checking it over to ensure it was ready for action. He did his best to focus solely on the task at hand, because if he allowed his mind to wander for even a second, he began to think about what Stan had done. 

How could his brother have done this? How could Stan have broken out the rift and doomed the whole world, no, the whole universe? For what? To save Ford from being carted off to some prison out around the Megrez system? Dipper would have figured something out, and even if he hadn’t, at least everyone else would have been safe! Ford had spent the last 30 years traveling the multiverse, he would have been OK. Even if this time he wouldn’t have any form of communication with Stan. Even if having his home and family ripped away from him after finally getting them back was the cruelest fate he could think of. He very well may still suffer that fate, thanks to Stan’s actions. 

“What happened?” Fiddleford’s voice brought him out of his spiraling thoughts.

“Stan broke the rift.” Ford answered shortly, his tone making it clear this was no time for discussion. “If I can blast Bill back through the rip he came out of, I just might be able to stop him before his weirdness spreads across the entire globe.”

As if on cue, a weirdness wave washed over the house, breaking against the unicorn spell’s barrier like a literal ocean wave. 

Fiddleford was trembling, but he took a step towards the door. “I-I gotta find Tate!”

Ford’s chest tightened. He hadn’t even thought about his old friend’s son. Every family in the world was going to be torn apart by this. Stanley, how could you?

“Of course. Here, take this.” He handed Fiddleford his smaller blaster. “Good luck.”

“You too.” McGucket nodded, before scampering out the door.

After watching from the porch to make sure his old friend made it to the cover of the trees safely, Ford turned to head in the opposite direction, only to find Dipper prepped to follow.

“You need to stay here, my boy.” Ford knelt down and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, trying his best to let the kid down gently. “What I’m going to do is too dangerous.”

“But I want to come with you!” Dipper insisted, pushing his uncle’s hand off. “I’m not some useless little kid, I can help you!

“I don’t doubt your skill, but this is the last safe place left in Gravity Falls.” 

“How long is it gonna be safe if Bill keeps getting stronger? Is this shield really gonna do anything if Bill decides to, I dunno, eat the world like a cookie, or play pingpong with the sun or something?”

“Dipper, please, I-I can’t…” Ford struggled to control his emotions. “I can’t lose any more of my family today.”

“Don’t say that!” Dipper cried, tears welling up in his eyes. “They’re not lost! There’s still hope! W-we can still stop Bill, and… and I have to find Mabel! I have to find her a-and sh-she’ll be fine and…” He broke down crying into his uncle’s shoulder.

Ford hugged him tightly. “Ok. Ok. You can come with me.” He pulled out of the hug and looked the boy up and down seriously. “But you have to promise me, if things go wrong, if I tell you to run, you run , got it?”

“I promise.” Dipper nodded. 

Stan wasn’t conscious, but he wasn’t exactly unconscious either. It was like he was having a dream, no, a nightmare, and something had almost woken him up, but he’d rolled over and gone back to sleep, only the sounds that had nearly woken him were now filtering into and effecting the dream, so he couldn’t tell what was real and what was imagined, all interspersed with indeterminate periods of blank nothingness.

One of these blank periods transitioned into another nightmare when he felt-not-felt something clink against him, and he heard-not-heard the grating laughter of Bill Cipher. 

“AND NOW I’VE GOT THE WHOLE STAN TWINS SET! WHADDAYA THINK I SHOULD DO WITH ‘EM, GUYS? PUT ‘EM UP ON THE MANTELPIECE? LEAVE ‘EM IN A BOX UNDER MY BED AND THEN FORGET THEY EVEN EXIST? MELT ‘EM DOWN INTO A BACK SCRATCHER?”

Stan saw-not-saw a blurry image through the fog of nothingness. Ford, mouth open in a silent scream, his hands raised and fingers curled. Turned into a golden statue, just like him. Too many emotions for his not-quite-conscious not-brain slowly muddled their way through him. Was he happy Ford was here? Was he sad his brother had also been captured? Was he scared of what would happen to them? Was he angry at Bill for hurting his brother again? Was he guilty because this was his fault— this was his fault! Stan had broken the rift to stop the alien ship from taking Ford away, but now—

“That’s enough!” he heard-not-heard Dipper’s voice echoing through the nightmare like he was underwater. “Hand over my uncles, or else!”

Panic ripped through him. The kids were going to die and it was all his fault! He tried to wake up, he tried to move, but he couldn’t even strain his body, he was completely frozen! It was like he didn’t even have a body anymore, he was just a consciousness trapped inside this golden statue.

Only

He

Wasn’t 

Conscious 

Anymore

The more he struggled to move, to even think , the more the blank nothingness enveloped him and penetrated him until there was nothing left. 

After an indeterminate time of drifting through this miserable existence between consciousness and unconsciousness, Stan was roughly shoved back to awareness as his body was released from his gold prison. Mabel and Dipper were standing in front of him with relieved expressions. Ford was standing beside him.

“Kids!” They both said simultaneously, and they leaned down to hug their niblings in tandem, bonking their heads together in the process. Stan gave an awkward chuckle. Ford just glared at him.

Stan gulped. “Ford, listen.”

“I don’t wanna hear it, Stanley!”

“No, listen! I couldn’t lose you again—”

“So everyone should lose everything!? How insanely selfish can you be?”

“I wasn’t thinking about that—”

“Clearly.”

“— All I could think of was you being lost and alone again, but this time with nothing . I couldn't let that happen.”

“You could have and you should have.”

“C’mon, you can’t seriously try to tell me you’d be ok with that!”

“It doesn’t matter what I’d be ok with—”

“Listen, Uncle Ford!” Dipper shoved himself between them to interrupt. “We don't have a lot of time. Remember how you told me right before you were frozen that you knew Bill's weakness?”

“Yeah, a secret way to defeat him?” Mabel said a little more loudly that was necessary, hoping to distract Ford from his tirade. Stan was grateful. 

“I… I do!” It worked. Ford grabbed a can of spray paint from Robbie and started drawing a huge circle on the ground. 

It took longer than anyone was comfortable with, especially when they could hear Bill fighting what appeared to be a robot built from the Mystery Shack in the background, but eventually Stan recognized what his brother was drawing. It was the Zodiac from one of the Journals. After determining who corresponded to what symbol, all the designated people lined up in the circle and joined hands. 

All but one. Ford hesitated before extending his hand to Stan, glowering at his brother. 

“What, did you draw this thing so fast you didn’t realize you put us next to each other?” Stan quipped. 

“Don’t forget whose fault this is.” Ford seethed. 

Stan wanted to argue that this was as much Ford’s fault as it was his, but they really did not have the time. And he knew what Ford really meant. He’d willfully broken the rift. And Ford was never going to forgive him for it.

“I know, alright? I’m sorry, just help me fix it, please!”

Ford shoved his hand into Stan’s, but he refused to meet his eye. 

“I feel bad enough about this already, OK? You don’t have to go and act like you’ve made less mistakes than me.”

“Fewer.” Ford snapped. “It’s fewer mistakes.” 

Everyone stared at them like they were a bomb about to go off. 

“Grammar, Stanley.”

They were right.

Stan ripped his hands free to attempt to strangle his brother. “You stuck-up son of a—”

“Don't jeopardize this, you idiot! Everything's on the line!” Ford let go himself, grabbing Stan by the collar.

They quickly dissolved into a fist-fight, completely forgetting where they were and what they had been trying to accomplish as everyone else tried to pull them apart. It wasn’t enough to stop the brawl though. 

No, what stopped them was Bill.

“OH NO, IT’S BILL! RIGHT? ISN’T THAT WHAT YOU’RE ALL THINKING?” He laughed cruelly.

Ford felt sick to his stomach. Everything had gone wrong. He’d had multiple chances to defeat Bill over the last month, and all of them had failed. But this most recent one… how could he have let something so petty stand in his way? Now everyone was going to die, possibly worse, considering this was Bill. And Ford knew it was his fault just as much as it was Stan’s. He’d always known that. He’d just let his own anger and frustration get in the way. At least Stan had always been trying to do the right thing for his family. Ford had just been seeking his own fame and glory when he’d made the deal with Bill that started all of this.

Which is why he was absolutely shocked Stan lamented that this was all his fault, and that he was a screw up, just like Dad said. 

“Don’t blame yourself.” Ford handed his brother his canteen in a comforting gesture. “I’m the one who made a deal with Bill in the first place.”

“Ford, he tricked you.” Stan tried to reassure him.

“And I fell for it! You would have seen him for the scam artist he is.”

Stan didn’t have a response to that. They just sat there in companionable misery for a moment.

“I really am sorry.” Stan said.

“I know. I am too.” 

"Can… can you ever forgive me?"

"...I already have." Ford stood.

“Hey, where’re you going?”

“I'm going to play the only card we have left. Let Bill into my mind. I need to take his deal. It's the only way he'll agree to save you and the kids.”

“What?! Are you kidding me?! Are you honestly telling me there's nothing else we can do?!”

“Bill's only weak in the mind space. If I didn't have this darn plate in my head we could just erase him with the memory gun when he steps inside my mind.”

Stan groaned. “That stupid thing was supposed to protect you! But it’s just been useless! I should have known Jess was a phony psychic just like Ma!” 

The twins blinked in tandem as a memory struck both of them at the same time. 

You have the face of the man destined to destroy Bill Cipher.

Bill is definitely going to die, and you will be the one to pull the trigger.

Twins have the same face!

They looked at each other in shock, checking to see if the other had just been struck with the same idea.

“We’re gonna have to be quick.” Stan said, unbuttoning his suit jacket and pulling it off. “Who knows how long the kids can outrun that thing.”

“Stan, wait—”

“There’s no time to wait!”

“You don’t understand, the memory gun isn’t as simple of an option as you think!” Ford grabbed his brother by the shoulders. “Bill isn’t some passive memory that will just sit there and be erased! He’s a sentient being who will do anything to survive! He’ll hide away in some distant corner of the mindscape. The only way to destroy him would be to completely erase your mind.”

Stan gulped. That was obviously more than he had signed up for. But a split second later he laughed it off. “Heh, well, s’not like there’s much mind in there to erase. Probably won’t make that much of a difference. Haha….”

“Don’t say that, of course it will!”

“Ford.” Stan said more seriously. “This is the only way everyone’s getting outta this alive.”

The worst part was, Ford knew he was right. So the old researcher pulled off his coat and handed it over to his brother.

Once they were done switching clothes, Ford hugged his brother tightly. “It’s not fair.” He whispered. “I just got you back.”

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere.” Stan assured him. “I just, y’know, won’t remember anything. I’ll still be me, right?”

Ford wasn’t so sure.

“You’ll just have to remind me.”

“I-I’ll try.”

“And if not, you get Jess’s phone number or something and you tell her this wasn’t funny, ok? Can you do that for me?”

Ford nodded mutely. He didn’t trust himself to speak without crying.

They looked up suddenly as they heard a sound from down the hall. It was the kids’ screaming. Ford’s stomach jumped up into his throat. He quickly wiped away his tears and did his best to regain his composure. 

“Showtime.” Stan muttered. 

Ford was amazed with how well Mabel’s scrapbook was working. After only a few minutes, Stanley could remember Waddles, and the kids, Soos, and even Wendy and Mabel’s friends. There was just one problem. Ford was barely in it. Sure, Mabel had given her own artistic rendition of his return in crayon, and had managed to snap one candid photo, but that was about it, and so far, Stan still had no idea who his brother was. Ford had never imagined he’d regret being camera shy so much. 

In an attempt to remedy this, Ford picked his way through the rubble of the house to the basement lab. He knew he remembered seeing some old family photo albums down there, along with some Glass Shard Beach High School yearbooks. Luckily, the corner of the basement he was thinking of was relatively undisturbed, compared to where they had ripped out the remains of the portal and the totem pole for the Shacktron. 

He found the books in question, and he spied what appeared to be an old film reel of home movies… along with another box of reels simply labeled “84-85”. Next to it were another two boxes filled with audio cassette tapes, one labeled “86-89” and the other “90-93”. Beside that was a book of CD’s, labeled “94-2000”. Finally, sitting atop them all was a single USB drive, labeled “2000-2010”. When Ford looked around the room, he found another USB drive plugged into the phone built into the console. That definitely hadn’t been part of the original design, considering the USB system hadn’t even been conceived of yet. Stan must have upgraded it himself.

It took Ford a moment to realize, these were all his voicemails over the years! Stan had saved every single one! His heart swelled at the thought. 

He carried as many of the boxes upstairs as he could, and enlisted the help of Dipper, Mabel, and Soos to carry up the rest. 

“What is all this stuff?” Stan asked curiously from his chair as he watched them bring in box after box.

“Just listen.” Ford said, hooking up the tape player. 

And so Stan listened, intently at first, but his eyes clouded over with an expression Ford had come to associate with his brother regaining memories. All of them decided it was best to just let the tapes just keep running and hope that they helped the memories run their course. 

Ford felt a little self-conscious letting the kids listen in on these voicemails. They’d only ever been meant for Stan, but the kids were obviously curious, and he wasn’t one to quell curiosity if he could help it. 

After a handful of recordings, they came to one which started with a loud swear and a gasp of pain. Ford quickly hit the stop button.

“Er, I believe this one may be a bit graphic to listen to right now.” He explained.

Stan shook himself like Ford’s live voice had woken him from a deep sleep, and he stared at his brother. “Wait, these are all you talking?”

Relief flooded through the old researcher. “Yes!”

“Huh, you look different from how I imagined. Older.”

“Well, I was much younger when I left these messages.”

Stan looked thoughtful for a moment before his gaze drifted to his own reflection in the blank screen of the broken TV, then back to Ford.

“Wait, are we… are we twins?”

Ford gave a small, sad smile. “Yes.”

Stan blinked in confusion. “Why didn’t you lead with that, knucklehead? Geez, Ford, you always were the world’s dumbest genius.”

And with that, Ford’s small smile cracked into a full grin. “Y-you remember me?”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Poindexter!”

Jheselbraum sat in meditation one night, when the reflection pool in front of her rippled and began to glow. When it stilled, it was no longer reflecting the room of the shrine, but the deck of a sailboat, worlds away. At its center were two figures with the same familiar face. 

“I call upon Jheselbraum the Unswerving.” A solemn voice echoed from the pool. 

“Are the theatrics really necessary?” A more glib voice interrupted. 

“It’s part of the spell, Stanley. Don’t break my concentration, it took me ages of trying to get this right.”

“Stanford and Stanley Pines. I never expected to see either of you again. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

"Never expected to see either of us again, eh? Some oracle." Stan folded his arms, unimpressed.

"I don't decide what I can and can't foresee." She said patiently.

"Yes, but you do decide what parts of your visions you share with others." Ford said. "Like the details of exactly who would destroy Bill, for instance."

"Not funny, Jess."

The oracle smiled at them. "Such things are never funny in the moment. But, look at the two of you now. You are together and you are happier than you have been in over 30 years."

The brothers exchanged a look.

"Yeah, I guess so." Stan admitted begrudgingly.

"You still could have been more upfront about the fact that you were talking about Stan." Ford grumbled.

"With time and reflection, you will find that it was necessary. And also hilarious."