Chapter Text
“I don’t like the look of this weather, Ford,” Stan shouted to his twin. “Maybe we should wait until things clear up.”
The rain pummeled the cabin above his head, sounding louder than ever as it ricocheted off the metal roof. Stan peered at the blinking radar screen in front of him, maintaining an even speed even as the waves rocked them vigorously from side to side. The Stan O’ War II was a tough little trawler, but even it had its limits. The weather only seemed to worsen the closer they got to their target.
The Pines twins had been tracking a particularly large and elusive space-time rift that kept bouncing across the Atlantic, always disappearing before they managed to get too close. After months of sailing up and down the eastern coast of the Americas, they had finally managed to pinpoint where it would remain stable long enough to try and close it.
Unfortunately, while the gateway might have been stable, the surrounding waters were anything but. Massive waves crashed against the high railings of their small ship, though Stan’s expert hands at the helm held her fast. If they capsized, they wouldn’t be able to seal up much of anything.
“That’s the problem.” Ford shouted back over the storm as he headed back into the small boat cabin. He pulled his hood down and rainwater dripped off his coat, pooling on the floor. Normally Stan would scold him for tracking the weather indoors but at this point, with how heavy the rainfall was, it felt inevitable that some water would end up inside. “It's the rift that's causing all this. It won't die down, not until it's shut.”
Stan grumbled, frustrated at himself. “This thing’s really been out here causing this much trouble, huh...” Most rifts they had found and shut thus far had been the result of Stan’s improper opening of the portal only a short year or so ago.
Ford was quick to correct him. “This one is my mistake,” he admitted. “This rift opened 30 years ago, back before everything fell apart. It must have been from our initial testing… Before we’d stabilized it enough-”
Before Ford could elaborate, a massive wave rose before them and preoccupied all their attention. Stan manned the helm and Ford clung to the frame of the boat, trusting his brother to keep them afloat.
It had taken Ford a long time to do that, to trust like that again, but Stan had more than earned it while they’d been at sea.
When they reached the peak of the wave, they could finally see the rift where it floated, looming ominously above the water as lightning poured out of it.
“I’ll be damned,” breathed Stan, awestruck by the sight of it.
The giant rip in reality looked like a pale shimmer torn into reality, like fraying fabric cloth that stitched together to create reality. It looked like a tear in distressed denim, only it seemed to be the size of a skyscraper with energy crackling across its surface.
“I can’t believe it’s grown to this size,” said Ford, not nearly as speechless as his brother, though just as impressed by the sight.
The boat dropped heavily back into the water as the waves sloshed aggressively beneath them. Lightning flashed and framed the sky through the window behind Stan’s head.
“So how do we handle this, then?” Stan asked, shouting above the roaring waves. “We can’t hang around here for very long and that rift makes even your biggest gun look like a pea-shooter.”
“No, you’re right,” Ford agreed. They wouldn’t be able to seal it by normal means. With horror, realization dawned on him for how they would have to take care of it. “We’re going to have to sail into it.”
“What?!” Stan might say he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but after the adventures they’d had so far and how his brother usually was, he totally could believe they’d have to do something like this. For clarity’s sake, however, he pressed on. “Ford, I can barely even get close to it and you want us to go inside that thing?”
“I don’t like it either, but it’s the only way to seal it.” Ford wrapped his arm around the bar he’d been holding to stay upright as the waves rocked them relentlessly. He flipped through the new Journal he’d compiled on the various types of rifts they’d come across in their travels. He’d have to make a new entry for this one. “I’ve seen a handful of these while I was dimension hopping. Even being open for so long, it shouldn’t be this unruly. There must be an anomaly, or several, in the reality beyond the rift that’s tethering it to ours and making it more unstable as time goes on. If we can find it, we can close it, and separate the two dimensions once again.”
Stan mulled it over. He didn’t know enough about visiting other dimensions to argue with his brother - who’d spent 30 years visiting other dimensions - but that didn’t mean he had to like it. “Take over for a minute,” he said finally, moving aside for Ford to take the wheel from him.
Ford did so without question. “What are you thinking?” He’d learned to value his brother’s insight on certain things, understanding that Stan often offered perspectives he never would have considered on his own.
Stan disappeared below deck briefly only to come back a moment later with a heavy rope. “I am not losing you again, alright?” he said and began to wrap the rope around Ford’s waist. “Wherever or whenever this rift is gonna dump us, I am not gonna put up with it by myself.”
“Excellent idea, Stanley.” Ford smiled, unable to help himself at the reminder of just how much his brother cared about him, and the lengths he would go to in order to get him back, no matter what. He didn’t deserve any of it, truly. “Now, according to our readings…” Ford peered at the screen, which had become severely covered in static the closer they got to the gateway before them. “This rift ought to dump us back to the time when it was first opened, and while I can’t be sure exactly where, I can say it will be on a parallel earth of some kind. If we are to get separated-”
“We won’t.” Stan decidedly tightened the knot he’d made in the thick rope. He finished tying Ford to the boat and started on himself.
“If we do,” Ford pressed on, “Meet me at the shack, or… Where the shack should be, if this particular version of Earth doesn’t have a copy of us in it.”
“Fine,” said Stan begrudgingly. He finished tying off his own rope. “But I’m telling you, this will hold. You’re not falling off this boat if I have to hold you down myself.”
“I appreciate that Stanley.”
The nice moment was cut short as the boat lurched beneath them, causing them both to grab on to whatever safety bars they could to maintain balance. They had reached the threshold of the rift. It looked even bigger up close, their tiny boat looked nothing more than a toy in its wake. Whatever had caused the disturbance inside must truly have been disastrous for it to widen this much.
Ford’s expression hardened, decades of experience reflected in the deep set wrinkles of his features. “Are you ready?” He moved aside for Stan to take the helm. He always had been the better driver.
“No,” Stan grumbled, taking the wheel. But when Ford gave him a reassuring smile, he returned it with a new, confident one of his own. “But I guess someone’s gotta do it, right? Might as well be the Kings of New Jersey.”
Ford clapped his brother on the shoulder and squeezed, unable to express how glad he was to have his twin at his side. As long as they faced it together, they could handle anything this new dimension could throw at them.
They sailed forward, the waves lifting their boat up and into the rift.
Crackling energy swirled around them in the wormhole, the rushing wind from the sea and whatever lay beyond them roaring a deafening threat as it shook the boat violently into its center. Almost immediately, both brothers were pulled apart with the force of the rift around them.
If not for the rope, Ford would have slammed head first into the far side of the cabin as the boat tipped unnaturally onto its side, all sense of gravity and direction lost in the storm around them.
However, while Ford’s rope held tight as he was pulled away from the helm… Stan’s did not.
“Stanley… Stanley!” Ford shouted as he helplessly watched his brother go overboard. Ford hauled himself up desperately by the rope as the boat shifted positions again, allowing him to try and scramble to the railing where his brother fell. He spotted Stan’s arm wrapped around it, clinging desperately to the side of the slippery hull.
Stan looked up at his brother, just barely out of reach above him. “I don’t think I’m gonna make it, Stanford,” he ground out, effort tinging every syllable as he clung to the boat’s frame. He knew he wouldn’t be able to climb back up without help. Another shift in position from the howling storm around them would send him flying.
Ford tried to lunge forward, to climb overboard and join him at its side - better together and without their ship than aboard it alone. Unfortunately, the rope at Ford’s waist that kept him tethered to the boat was also the very same thing that kept him from his brother. The line held taut behind him, preventing him from reaching out any further to help Stan.
“You will make it! Just don’t let go, I’m-” Ford fumbled with the knot Stan had tied and realized with dismay that he wouldn’t be able to undo it in time. He reached down to his ankle where he kept a hunting knife strapped to his calf, just in case. He was never gladder than he was now to have it. “I’ll cut myself free. Just hold on!”
Stan glanced down behind him. He was already slipping. He didn’t have the strength to pull himself back onto the boat and if he didn’t do something soon, his idiot brother would be joining him.
Stan Pines had a decision to make.
“Hey Ford!” he shouted, and Ford’s attention was on him in a second. “Don’t make me wait another 30 years.”
Ford recognized in an instant what he was going to do. “Stanley, don’t-!” It was too late.
Stan let go, tumbling down into the swirling abyss of energy that raged around their little boat. It swallowed him up in seconds and just like that, it was as if he’d never been there at all. He was gone.
“Stanley…” Ford’s grip on the railing tightened. Now was not the time to despair. His brother wasn’t dead - he knew that from experience. They would only end up separated. He just had to find him.
Meet me at the shack, he’d said. That’s where he would find his brother.
There was no point in staying with the ship anymore. Every passing second meant he might end up further from his brother, both in time and in space. He had to act fast. Ford sawed the rope at his waist and in a moment, he was free.
Ford climbed up onto the railing of the ship and took one last look at the Stan O’ War II and the comforting glow of the cabin that had been their home. Only an hour ago, they’d been sharing a meal at the table, laughing about Stan’s exploits the last time they’d touched port. All of that had disappeared in an instant.
Now he knew how Stan must have felt when he’d fallen into the portal.
“I’ll find you,” he said, voice filled with quiet determination, though it rang louder than even the deafening roar of wind whipping around him. “I’ll get you back.”
Without another minute of hesitation, Ford jumped in after his brother.