Chapter Text
The choppy water that rammed against the boat as he slept was not something that usually woke Stanford Pines up. After many years at sea, even the roughest storms couldn’t shake the older man from his slumber. But, despite this fact, Ford found himself jolted awake from his bunk, heart racing as if he had just been startled awake from a nightmare. He wiped the cold sweat from his face with his sleeves before slowly sitting up and grabbing his glasses. His body screamed in protest as he stood and he couldn't help the quiet groan that escaped him as he stretched. He would have thought that years of adventure and strenuous physical activity would have kept him in better shape but it seemed to have only added to the aches and pains of growing old. He slowly climbed above deck, breathing in a deep breath of salty sea air as he made his way to the railing and leaned against it.
Nothing soothed Ford quite like just staring out at the seemingly endless sea, it was so infinite, so mysterious, so beautiful. Even after ten years of sailing and adventuring, Ford wasn’t sick of it even a little. Every sunrise and sunset was amazing to him, breathtaking at times. Each one, so similar yet not quite the same. Thirty years of hopping from dimensions and nothing quite beat the sights of his own. He had missed it.
Ford was startled from his thoughts as his brother clapped a hand on his back and leaned up against the railing next to him, his back to the sea. He had become so lost in the depths of the ocean and in his thoughts that he hadn’t even heard him approach. He made a disgruntled noise and straightened his glasses.
“Stanley!” His voice sounded scolding for a moment but he sighed and lowered his tone, “I didn’t hear you come up. Did I wake you?”
Stanley shook his head, “Nah, I wasn’t sleeping well at all, feels like I haven’t slept well in days.”
Ford nodded in understanding. He hadn’t either, plagued by strange nightmares that he couldn’t remember, the feeling of unease that chased every nap and slumber. It seemed to be getting worse and worse as the week went by. They both knew it was happening but neither seemed to want to fully acknowledge it to the other, fearing what it might mean.
“I know what you mean. Perhaps it’s anticipation?”
Stan gave his brother an odd look. The kind that read, ‘You only have theories that dumb when you’re lying. It was a look that was equal parts concern and confusion. Ford hated that he could read his brother like a book and know what he was thinking from just a glance. It meant that he could tell instantly when he was caught in a lie when there was something unspoken hanging between them.
Ford sighed and pushed off the rail, letting the tension hang between them without acknowledgment as he went to pull up anchor.
“We should be in Oregon by tonight!” He shouted over his shoulder, hoisting the anchor onto the deck. “Dipper and Mabel should be waiting for us when we dock.”
Stan grinned widely, the mentions of his great niece and nephew instantly lifting the mood, “I know we see them every summer but god, I can’t wait to see those kids.”
“You know at a certain point you have to stop calling them kids, they haven’t been kids for nearly 4 years now.”
Stan chuckled as he plopped himself down in the captain's chair, turning on all of their devices and shoving the key into the ignition. Ford waited for the sound of the engine humming before kicking his brother out of his chair and setting their course.
When they first started their seafaring life, Stan and Ford had very quickly come to the agreement that Ford was best suited to manage all the technicalities and navigation while Stan would do most of the heavy lifting and mechanical work. It was what suited them best and while one could occasionally take over for the other, they preferred not to. They were complementary to each other, balancing each other out and filling in for each other. Stan made breakfast, and Ford fixed them lunch. Stan caught the fish and Ford made them for dinner. Ford made the plans and Stan executed them. They had always made the perfect team; sometimes the brothers would look at each other and marvel at how they survived without each other. They were more than capable of taking care of themselves but life was just not the same without their other half.
A couple of hours into their journey and Ford found himself spacing off. It wasn’t uncommon for him to do this, nor was it particularly dangerous as they were still a good distance away from shore and the sight of other people was still few and far between. He often let his mind wander to his studies or his hobbies or his family. He could only stare out at the open ocean for so long before everything started to blur and he had to focus on something else. But as he began to space out he heard a noise. It was faint at first to the point that Ford paid it no mind but eventually, his mind clicked as to what the sound was and it sent such a feeling of shock through him that his whole body jolted and the boat jerked softly to the right.
By the time he had recovered himself, the sound was gone and he glanced around only to see his brother, still recovering from being nearly knocked over, glaring at him. Ford tried to give his best sympathetic look as he steadied the boat and got them back on track but his look must have been concerning because a moment later, Stan was in the cabin.
“You alright, Sixer?”
Ford just nodded, trying his best to keep his shoulders from tensing at the nickname. Usually, it wouldn’t bother him, but after what he just heard…
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Stan tried to say it as a joke but it came out a little too serious for his liking.
“I’m sorry. I just thought...I heard a laugh and..”
“A laugh?”
“Yes, but must have been my imagination.”
Stanford stared straight ahead, hoping that if he didn’t look his brother in the eye, he wouldn’t call his bluff.
Luckily he didn’t, instead, his brother just sat beside him and began cracking jokes and telling stories, and by the time they docked in Oregon, Stanford had pushed the laugh far out of his mind.
When they docked in Oregon, Dipper and Mabel were waiting with wide smiles. Even though the twins were more than grown up, they still jumped with joy at the sight of their Grunkles, tackling them into hugs. Stan and Ford were probably much too old for the aggressive tackling from two fully grown adults but they still hugged back with as much loving aggression as they had for the past ten years.
The twins started bragging about themselves almost instantly as soon as they were all crammed into the back of a taxi like they would explode if they didn’t spill everything that had happened to them in the last 9 months. It started with Dipper bragging about his shiny new college degree for the second year in a row only for Mabel to cut in and brag about her new job at a fancy art school. Dipper glared daggers at her and Mable stuck her tongue out and Stanley and Stanford couldn’t help but laugh because it was almost like they were twelve again. They supposed some things would never change. They continued to update Stan and Ford about their lives as they drove, the older set of twins at rapt attention.
That night they settled down at a motel near the bus station, all of them exhausted and ready for rest as they dumped their bags in a corner and began flopping down in bed or chairs or, in Mabel's case, on the floor.
Stanford directed his attention to his latest journal as Mabel and Stan began a lively debate on who would be the best at whatever game show was playing on the motel tv. His attention was only diverted away from his writing as he felt the bed shift and lower from the weight of someone beside him. He glanced up to see Dipper beside him, lips pursed and a worried look in his eyes. He fiddled with his hat in his hands as he sat beside Ford, not looking him in the eyes. Ford couldn’t help but smile a little as he saw himself in Dipper more and more every day, even in his nervous habits and social awkwardness.
Ford set his journal down and set a hand on Dipper's shoulder.
“What’s on your mind, Dipper?”
Dipper seemed to relax a little, a slight smile moving across his face.
“Well, I didn’t want to sour the mood in the car but…have you had trouble sleeping lately?”
Ford’s smile fell, “What do you mean?”
It felt like a dumb question to ask when he was almost certain of the answer but he had to be certain.
“Well, when we were traveling up to Oregon, I kept falling asleep on the bus but then 15 minutes later I’d be jolted awake in a cold sweat like I just had a nightmare. My heart would be racing and I would be shaking but even now I can’t remember a single dream I had. Even Mabel was experiencing it and she was on the road with Pacifica, Candy, and Grenda for a whole year so she should have been more than capable of sleeping soundly on the bus. Nothing has happened to either of us lately that would give us these frequent nightmares.”
Ford could feel the color drain from his face as Dipper talked, it was exactly as he had feared. There was a long moment of silence between them as Ford stared down, thinking long and hard. At this point, even Mabel and Stanley had fallen quiet at this new acknowledgment of a problem they had all silently agreed to ignore.
When Ford didn’t say anything for a long moment Dipper finally added, “You don’t think it could be him do you?”
Ford shook his head. “No. He is gone. He’s been gone for years! We defeated him. There has to be another explanation.”
Dipper frowned, “I know there’s probably another explanation but I also know that it would be dangerous to rule him out as a possibility. He’s always been unpredictable and it’s not impossible that Bill-”
Ford shot Dipper a look and he instantly fell silent, feeling like a scolded child. Bill's name had become almost forbidden in conversations with Ford. Like a particularly terrible ex that Ford had done his best to avoid. After all, Ford had been the closest to Bill. They had been friends, partners. Stanford had put his full trust into Bill only for Bill to repay him with the most traumatic thirty years of his life, all cumulating into three days of pure torture at Bill’s hands. When Bill had been an active threat then of course Ford had confronted the problem head-on no matter how difficult but now that it was an agreed-upon fact that Bill would never hurt them again, he had pushed the demon out of his mind and seemed particularly hostile to any painful reminders of him.
A long, tense silence hung in the room, everyone looking at each other and then at Ford but nobody saying a word.
“Listen, if there really is a threat, we can check on some of the others who were involved specifically those who were part of the cipher and we can check the statue in the forest, but only if it will ease your mind. I’m sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this.”
Ford gently clapped Dipper on the shoulder before standing and turning to the others, “We have a long day tomorrow so let's get some sleep.”
Everyone else agreed and they each settled down in separate places to sleep, falling into fitful slumbers. The next morning they simply didn’t acknowledge the lack of sleep they got or the tense feeling that seemed to overtake them. They were unusually quiet on the bus ride to gravity falls with Dipper and Mabel whispering to each other the whole time while Stan and Ford hardly exchanged a word between them.
When they arrived at the bus stop that afternoon they expected the usual warm welcome they got every summer but they were instead met with an exhausted chorus of greetings. Almost their entire welcome wagon seemed to be on the verge of collapse like they hadn’t slept in days. Candy and Grenda seemed to be the only energized people in the group, Wendy’s exhaustion could be explained by jet lag but the way Soos leaned into his wife was a bit more concerning. Dipper and Mabel exchanged a look and Ford knew Stan was giving him a look as well but he refused to meet it.
Everyone seemed very happy to see them nonetheless. Wendy and Dipper shared a hug that quickly turned into a headlock. It had been amusing to see them challenge each other for the title of the tallest freak year after year, both of them putting on height like it was a competition. Even Ford was a little surprised when Dipper eventually became taller of the two though that didn’t stop Wendy from wrestling Dipper into forced affectionate noogying every time she saw him.
Mabel, Candy, and Grenda were talking at about a million miles a minute, the occasional squeal permeating their conversation. Nobody seemed to be capable of matching anything close to the girls' energy but they all appreciated it nonetheless.
Eventually, Wendy said goodbye to the rest of the group, Mabel, Candy, and Grenda said their goodbyes for now and everyone went their separate ways for the night with the Pines Family climbing into Soos and Melody’s car, making their way to the Mystery Shack.
There was tension so thick that you could cut it with a knife but nobody seemed to want to break it. Eventually, Dipper cleared his throat leaning forward towards the driver's seat.
“Say, Soos, have you been sleeping alright lately? You look exhausted.”
He looked back at Ford, meeting his stern glare with an apologetic frown. He knew Ford didn’t want to talk about it but Dipper couldn’t just leave it alone. He would never forgive himself if there was an actual threat and he hid in denial. He knew Ford would come around too, as painful as it would be for him, he would come around.
“Well, that’s the crazy thing, dude. I have hardly slept at all for like a week! It’s been totally crazy dude. And Wendy and I were talking and she hasn’t slept well since she landed!”
“None of us have been sleeping very well either,” Mabel chimed in.
Eventually, Ford let out a long sigh and nodded, “It’s true, we aren’t sure what’s behind it but the fact that all of us are experiencing it can’t be a coincidence.”
“Or a good sign,” Dipper tacked on.
Ford pushed up his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, a million different thoughts and emotions flooding over him. He could see everything all over again, his torture at the hands of Bill, his family almost dying, him having to erase his own bothers memories, all of it playing on a loop. He could feel everyone's eyes on him, looking for answers, looking for direction. And he didn’t have any. He could barely even swallow the smallest possibility that Bill could be back, he didn’t want to swallow the possibility that he would have to fight him again, that he could lose everything.
“Listen,” he finally said, “I know all of our minds want to jump to the worst-case scenario but it wouldn’t hurt to eliminate some other possible answers. Maybe I could run some tests on you all? I still have all my old equipment in the basement.”
Everyone nodded in agreement and Ford relaxed a bit, even though he knew full well this would only be a temporary solution to a long-term problem if these tests brought up nothing.
Once they got to the Shack, Ford corralled them all into the basement where he hooked them up to machines and began running test after test. But everything came up inconclusive, everything he did was the wrong turn. After hours of failed tests, Ford had no choice but to send everyone to bed with nothing more than an apology for wasting their time.
Ford couldn’t bring himself to sleep, couldn’t bring himself to face the feverish nightmare state that was slumber. Instead, he stayed at his desk, going over the test results and his notes about a million times before he eventually passed out right there in his chair.
Ford woke up on a couch, the feeling beneath his fingers like that of leather but not quite. In his half-awake state, he instantly recognized the song playing on the piano, he could almost hear the words in his head even when nobody was singing.
We’ll meet again.
He sat up, his heart instantly plummeting as he recognized the room. The same brick walls, same fireplace, same piano, same sick, demonic mimicry of furniture that decorated the room. He pushed himself up and off the couch, awake in an instant and ready to fight anything that came near.
Don’t know where don’t know when.
His head turned in a panicked swivel around the room, looking for the threat that he knew for certain was there. At first, Ford didn’t find what he was looking for, the demonic triangle was not here where he expected him to be. In fact, the only other person in the room was a lonesome piano player, a man who he did not recognize.
But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day…
The man had to have been around Ford’s age, with tan, leathered skin. He wore fine clothes, a mostly black ensemble that complemented the occasional bits of gold on his person. The more Ford studied the other man, trying to assess if he was a threat, the more it dawned on him that this person was not exactly…human. The man’s hands were stained a dark inky black that traveled up to his forearm and his fingertips ended in long sharp claws.
But it wasn’t until the music halted and the man finally locked eyes with him, a wicked smile stretching across his face that it finally clicked for him who this man was. After all, he had seen those eyes a dozen times before. In every man, woman, and child the dream demon had ever possessed.
His form might have changed but there was no denying who it was even for a second.
“Bill Cipher.”