Chapter Text
“Pointdexter! Check out what I found in the cave!” Stanley runs across the sand and over to his brother who’s working on repairing the Stan O’ War’s tattered sail.
“Lost treasure?!” Stanford asks, nearly tripping over himself to run over and take a look himself. “A tape measure?” he frowns in disappointment.
“Come on, Sixer! This is gonna help us rebuild the boat and we won’t have to ask Pa about money to buy us one anymore!” Stanley exclaims, standing proud as he shakes off the remaining sand stuck to the object’s crevices. “It was buried under a lot of sand. It looks ancient, but it should still work.”
“Well, let’s find out.” Stanford takes the tape measure in his hands and pulls it out to an extent, eyes widening when he sees the years and months and days instead of actually inches or feet. “Whoa! This thing is weird!” he marvels and his twin shoves himself closer, taking a look himself.
“Awh man. It’s not an actual tape measure?”
“Maybe not, but this thing looks like it belongs in a Sci fi book or something. We might’ve just found our newest mystery to uncover.” Stanford grins, turning the measure over curiously. He doesn’t even notice his fingers slip away from the yellow tape and it snaps back into the object.
In seconds both of their vision is flooded with white and Stanley shouts out his brother’s name, the words getting lost through the ages as they both are rocketed through time.
*****
Stanford groans, holding his pounding head. His legs sting with new scrapes from landing a little too hard. The air is colder, much colder than it should be giving its summer.
Instead there’s an autumn chill the area and he stands up shakily, noticing he’s surrounded by orange and yellow leaved trees that tower above him in almost an arc position like they’re pointing at him.
Fresh snow paints the ground, not fully melted but still cold enough to make his new injuries sting worse than before.
“Stanley, are you okay?” He asks, dusting himself off as he stands. When he doesn’t hear a reply he looks around him, finally realizing he’s by himself in the deep woods. “Stanley?! Stanley, where are you?!” Stanford screams, scouring every inch of the landscape but he’s nowhere to be seen.
“Oh god- oh god!” Stanford grips his hair tightly, the brown strands nearly being pulled out of his head. “Stanley, where are you?!” he starts rushing through the woods, looking all around for his younger twin’s faded red and white shirt and messy brown hair. There’s no sign of him anywhere though, the chilly air biting into his skin as he continues to search with panicked desperation.
No matter how far he goes there’s still no sight of his brother. No tracks, no voice calling for him, nothing.
“Stanley!! Stanley, please answer me!” Stanford screams at the top of his lungs, watching a flock of blackbirds scatter into the sky at the volume. Still nothing answers him and his chest rises and falls faster, tears streaming down his face.
This can’t be happening!
He lost his twin!
He was right beside him! He…he was right there then the flash came and-
Stanford gasps, searching himself for the tape measure. It’s nowhere on him though and he didn’t even think searching for it. Perhaps he overlooked it while looking for Stanley? He needs to go back and find it immediately! It could be the only way to reunite with his brother.
Stanford turns back the way he came, weaving through underbrush and trees while following his tracks which are slowly starting to get covered up as snow starts to come down. The white snowflakes only get thicker as he goes. By the time he reaches the clearing he woke up in, it’s nearly a full scale snowstorm.
He starts digging through the snow, ignoring how his hands are turning numb or how stiff they get. He needs to find that tape measure! Otherwise he may never see Stanley again. The tears keep flowing down his face, freezing to his skin as his sobs get drown out from the howling wind.
“Nononono! Where is it?!” he wails, digging and digging and digging despite the fact he can no longer see, his glasses all fogged up.
His breathing only picks up more, panic swelling up in him and swallowing him in a giant maw of despair.
He can no longer think straight. It’s so cold yet he feels hot, suffocated by his distress. His vision starts to fill with dark spots and he shakes his head, trying to stay awake. He needs to calm his breathing.
Four in, hold for four, out four.
Come on, Stanford. You got this.
…He can’t do this!
Stanley is lost who knows where!
He could be trapped and freezing and he’s here wasting time!
His brother could be dying!
“No- St-Stanley…” Stanford’s vision gets darker and darker and he slumps against the snow, passing out.
The last thing he registers is something grabbing him by the shoulders then nothing.