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Chapter Text

They walked down the dusty dirt road, legs tired and expressions board. Stanley took another heavy step and heard a click as his foot landed. He stopped, frozen.

"Ah, Ford?" He looked over at his brother with concern.

Ford stopped walking and turned back.

"What?"

"Uh, do you - you uh - you heard that right?"

Ford saw the worry building in his brother's face, and tried to take a calm step forward even as his heart raced with apprehension.

"N-no. I - I didn't. What w-was it?"

"Um, do you - do you know what makes - weird - weird sorta clicking noises when you step on it?"

Ford shook his head and swallowed, his panic rising. Stan held out a hand.

"Alright, now calm down. I'm sure - whatever it is - it's perfectly fine."

Ford flashed Stanley an annoyed glance and darted his eyes around them, expecting an attack. Then he moved towards Stan and knelt down, sweeping his fingers against the ground to brush away the dirt. Underneath revealed the metal exterior of a mechanical object. Ford jerked his hand back, eyes wide. Stan stared, heart beat picking up.

"What - what is it, eh poindexter?"

"L-l-landmine - ,"

"What!"

Ford bolted up and gripped Stan's shoulders. His eyes were wide, begging his brother to stay still. Stan forced himself to not move. Their gaze trailed back to the ground.

"Why is there a landmine in the road?" Stan put his hands on his head. "Why on earth would anyone put a landmine in the middle of the road?"

Ford gestured for him to calm down as he gave the weapon a thoughtful stare. His eyes jumped back to Stanley, expression hopeful. Stan almost stepped back.

"Oh no. Don't give me that look."

Ford flashed him a crazed, deceptive, half-smile that clearly said 'what look?' in far too innocent terms.

"That look. Why would you think I know how to disarm a bomb? You're the brainiac nerd!"

"S-s-so you d-d-don't?" Ford's brows pulled together, his hope dying.

"No, Ford! I don't! Why would I know how to disarm a bomb! Who puts a landmine in the middle of the road!"

Ford's face fell and he grew still as he began to think.

"Wait," Stan looked at his brother. "Do you know how to disarm a bomb?"

Ford scowled and threw him a face that told him 'of course not, obviously.'

"Well I'm sorry, but I had to ask! I'm standing on a landmine Ford! Come one let's put our heads together and think!"

Ford began to pound his head with his fist. Stan pulled him closer and helped him beat it with a palm of his own.

"Think nerd! Think!"

Ford stated to shake under the stress of the situation. A growl built in his throat.

"W-w-who p-puts a l-l-landmine in the m-middle of the r-r-r-road!?"

Chapter Text

"Stanley! Take your glasses off! You have to look at this!"

"Whatever it is, I'm sure it's just as underwhelming as the last thing you tried to show me."

"Stanley, please. That crystal formation was awe inspiring." 

"I could care less." 

"Couldn't you at least try and enjoy the brilliant mysteries of the multi-verse?"

Stanley punched Ford's arm, making him yelp. 

"Ow! Hey!"

"Shut up Ford. That darn waterfall sounds great. I could care less how it looks."

"But this rainbow Stanley. It's gorgeous."

"Pfft." 

"Don't act like that. I can't remember the last time I saw a rainbow quite as majestic." 

"Yeah? Well I can't remember the last time I saw a rainbow - ever. So it's not as big a deal as you're making it out to be. Come on we should get moving." 

"Stanley ... are you seriously telling me - that you've never seen a rainbow?"

"No, I haven't. And I don't care." 

"Lee! Take your glasses off right now! This needs to be fixed immediately!"

"Ford - ,"

"Take them off!" Ford tried to snatch them. 

"Get away!"

"Stanley!"

"Stanford, get off me!"

"Take them off Stan! The rainbow! You've never seen a rainbow - you have to look!"

"I don't care!"

"Stanley - !"

"Stanford you're wearing UV light glasses, you IDIOT don't take mine off- !"  

Ford grabbed Stanley's glasses of his face. Stan gasped, eyes wide to the brilliant rainbow in front of him. Ford paused, face expectant waiting for Stan's reaction. There was pause. He heard a slight sizzling sound as Stanley blinked. 

Then all he heard was screaming. 

"GAHH! Oh, no! WHY! WHY IS THIS HAPPENING! GAHHAHAH! My eyes are on fire! AH! AHH! AH! AHH! It's so hot and it hurts!"

"Stanley you're over-reacting." 

"GAHH! IT HURTS! THE PAIN!"

"Stanley?" With a jolt Ford remembered they were on a planet that gave off level of light radiation that burned your retinas, and that Ford himself was wearing special glasses to allow him to tolerate the colors. "Oh, no. Oh wait - ! Stanley oh my gosh! I'm so sorry - here put them back on!"

*** 

"Get those bandages good and tight. It's not like I can not give my life savings to some quack doctor. Out here in the middle of nowhere."

Ford whimpered. 

"Yeesh Ford. Don't be like that. Remember what that guy who sold us your glasses said? It'll only be like a week. Then I'll be good as new."

Ford pressed his fists to his temples and groaned. 

"Ford seriously. It's not like the status quo is changed or anything."

"I'm s-so, s-s-so, s-so, s-s-sorry S-S-Stanley."

"Yeah, you're an idiot."

"S-such an i-i-idiot." 

"Yeah well. And now I hate seeing more than ever!" Stan shoved his fist into the sky and shook it. 

Ford nodded along. 

"Mm."

Chapter Text

They stepped through the portal, guns raised at the ready. They stopped cold as they were faced with the awestruck expression of two kids. Their eyes went to the older twin's weapons. 

"Whoa! Thomas look at that!"

"Jimmy, that one's got two!" 

Ford back pedaled, grabbing Stanley's arm as the children jumped to their feet and came closer. Stanley raised a brow.

"Hold it." he held out a hand. "Didn't your folks ever tell you not to talk to strangers?"

The two kids both upholstered guns of their own. Ford jerked back and pointed his weapon at them. The kids put their hands in a placating gesture. 

"Our parents said no one will wanna mess with us because of these bad-boys." The older boy took his gun by it's barrel and held it out. 

Stanley rolled his eye and took the weapon. 

"What the heck kid. You don't just give strangers your guns. And also - ," Stanley brandished his blaster with a flourish. "Mine's bigger than yours." he put on a cheesy grin. 

Behind Stanley, Ford murmured in his brother's ear, eyes darting about. 

"Lee, why do these children have lethal weapons?"

Stan frowned. 

"Uh, hey kiddos?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I see your gun? Can we trade? Can I have it?"

Stan pursed his lips. 

"First of all - no. Mine. Second - is this some sort of military planet?"

The boys looked between each other. They burst out laughing. 

"What?"

"Of course not!"

"You're funny."

"Yeah, are you crazy?"

Stan put his face in his hand. 

"Do we seriously not raise any red flags to you two? Two guys pop out of no-where with blasters, and you wanna give them you guns? And you think we could be mentally unstable? Do you two have any sense of self-preservation?"

"Stanley," Ford tugged at Stan's coat. "Come on let's go."

"No, no wait," Stan tried to pull back. "I wanna make a point."

Ford rolled his eyes, snatch the smaller weapon from his brother, and dragged him away. 

"Wha - Ford hold on. This dimension thinks it's perfectly okay to give weapons to children. We have to figure out how to monopolize on this!" 

"Now is not the time." Ford muttered. 

Chapter Text

Stanley stopped walking. 

"Something 's wrong." 

Ford stiffened. Stan tilted his head and tried to listen. 

The humid air drifted in clouds on the rocky ground. Ford had been trying to see through the fog all day, but the visibility only stretched a few feet in front of them. Next to him, Stanley jerked around. He stepped back, body tense. 

"We're leaving." He pulled his wrist up and moved to portal them away. 

Ford tensed, waiting for the jump - when a strange sensation crawled up his leg. 

Reality went wild. He shut his eyes against the pressure, focusing on his brother's grip on his arm. But there was another feeling he was aware of. Another presence wrapped its way around his body as they crossed dimensions. Before he could move, or even think, matter reasserted itself. 

Both brothers gasped, only for their lungs to drown in water. A form clenched around his chest, and Ford plunged down. Stanley's hand slipped away at the sudden tug. Ford opened his eyes to a dark abyss of salty ocean, his eyes burning. Above him he could see the distant image of light, and his confused brother twisting, searching for him. Looking down, he saw the monstrous form of some creature, tethering him to the deep floor below. 

Ford clawed at the thing, kicking, and trying to force his way up. His choked on ocean, his lungs begging for air. Everything else fell away as he struggled, desperate to reach the surface.  

***

"And then what happened?" 

Stanley shrugged. 

"And then I saved him." 

His audience frowned. 

"But how?" 

"I did a thing." 

Sitting a ways off, Ford rolled his eyes. His brother's captivated audience grumbled among themselves. The spell Stanley had been weaving broke, as he brought his story to an abrupt halt. 

"But how?" 

Stanley put his hands on his crossed knees and leaned forward with a conspiratorial look. The group listening to him leaned forward, faces bright with expectation. Ford put his face in his palm, shaking his head at the inevitable. Stanley grinned. 

"I did. A thing." He leaned back and watched his audience growl in frustration. 

Ford let out a sigh, and Stanley cast a brief glance over his shoulder before turning back to the bitter listeners. 

"But what did you do?"

Ford refocused on repairing his portal watch. Casting a quick glance back up, he made note to hurry his efforts. 

***

He had Stan's wrist wrapped tight in his hand and dragged him forward as fast as they could run. His brother was lagging behind, arm wrapped tight around his side as he trained to contain his laughter. Ford stopped to round a corner, and yanked Stan with him. 

"This isn't funny." 

A little ways off the sound of angry voices floated closer. Ford kept moving. Stanley tripped and stumbled, his cackles increasing for a moment as he tried to catch both himself and his breath. Ford gritted his teeth. 

"I told you to stop. I told you. But did you listen to me?" 

They ducked into an alley and exited near the edge of a forest. 

"No. You just had to push your luck." 

Stan smacked his knee as Ford surveyed where to run next. He took in a breath and shook his head.

"You gotta admit poindexter. It's pretty darn hilarious." 

Ford spun on his brother. 

"I told you! I told you Stanley! They're a ancient race of historians. They take their stories seriously!"

"Which is exactly why I couldn't resist." 

Ford growled and wrenched Stan forward. They kept sprinting away, Stan's grin still planted firmly on his face. Ford cast a look over his shoulder and saw the mob approaching. He stopped and raised his wrist. 

"You're lucky I fixed these in time. Next dimension - I'm in charge." 

Stan bit back a smile. 

"Whatever you say - captain." 

Ford scowled, then pressed the trigger and sent them hurtling across the multi-verse. 

***

"I have made an error of judgement." Ford ran, towing Stan behind him. 

"Understatement of the year." 

Behind them several alien guards shot at them with blasters. Stan gritted his teeth. 

"Just give it back." 

Ford shook his head. 

"It's too late now - just run."

They turned a corner and weaved between the infinite shelves of books. 

"I told you this smelt bad. I told you." 

"I thought she was giving it to me!" 

A shot blazed over their heads and they ducked away. 

"Ford - first of all it was a HE." 

"What?"

Another blast came too close for comfort and they switched directions. Stan scowled.

"We really need to work on your people skills." 

They came to a series of intersections and Ford paused, unsure of which way to go. Stan rolled his eyes. 

"Where next - captain." 

Ford growled and pulled them on. 

"Shut up." 

"Stanford just give the friggin' book back." 

"No."

"Stanford!"

"No!"

Chapter Text

"No. No I don't understand what you're saying,"

"Mr. Mrand mur mall Muer mermurk"

"No. Just. Just stop. I don't understand what you're trying to tell me,"

"Merck mer. Mur meu murk merh meks muuur,"

"Ford. Ford. Help me out, his accent 's throwing me off,"

Ford dug the currency out of his pocked and shoved it into Stan's hand. 

"R-right. It's the a-accent. Just grab the - the b-blue one," he murmured. 

Stan handed over the money to the creature working the vendor. 

"Here, take it. You can keep the change if you just give us a map or something and stop - ,"

"Meh meks mennn muurre mall moved meksl mons"

"I don't know what that means. I don't care. Here," Stan grabbed a blue looking fruit melon and held it up. "We're taking this one,"

The creature picked up a smaller purple fruit and held it out. 

"Mrun mir maon moah mun,"

"Are you saying switch, or can we have both? You know what - I'm taking both," Stan snatched the purple melon from the creature's tentacle and turned to go. 

"Mnn!"

Ford rolled his eyes and took the blue melon from Stan's hand. He replaced it on the vendor's cart before grabbing Stan's wrist and leading him away. 

"This is so frustrating," Stan complained. "I can't understand what anyone 's saying!"

Ford thought he saw someone duck suspiciously behind a corner and turned the both of them towards the opposite direction. They stopped at a vendor in the market that looked a little less alien than the rest. It was more humanoid than anything they'd seen so far, and its sign had actual letters on it, not just foreign symbols. Ford gestured at it to Stan. His brother let out a sigh.

"Right ... here we go again," he stepped forward, but Ford held him back. 

 "W-we don't have to - to do anything else if -i f you d-d-don't feel like it," he mumbled. 

Stan closed his eye, the eye-patch hiding the other one, his expression pained. 

"Yes. We do. We gotta find someplace to stay the night, or we'll be wandering out here all day. You're already getting twitchy Ford - ,"

As if on cue Ford's eyes jerked to an image fading into a crowd. He could have sworn he'd seen ... if only for a second ... 

"Ford," 

He glanced back at Stan, expression guilty. 

"I - I - uh - ,"

Stan put a hand over his face.

"No. No, don't ... don't look like that. Just - it's fine alright? Let's just get this over with," 

Ford frowned, but he nodded. Stan was right. The sooner they finished, the sooner they could get a handle on things. He let his brother take the lead. Stan walked up to the creature manning the register, easy-going smile plastered onto his face. 

Ford took one last look behind him. 

Nothing.

He frowned and settled for making sure the cashier didn't have a gun. 

***

Several blocks down, and a few pick-pocketing lessons later, the two brothers stood outside their motel door. Ford inserted their key while Stan continued what he was saying. 

"It's all about the distraction really. A simple bump move is classic, but any sort of commotion will do. Something to let you get in close, but not let them think it means anything important," 

The locked clicked and Ford swung the door wide. Inside was mostly what you'd expect. Ford was a little surprised that alien creatures used similar facilities as humans. 

A pair of beds. A small kitchen. Restroom. 

Ford let his eyes do one last sweep before he took a small step inside. Behind him Stan leaned against the door frame. 

"We good?"

Ford bit his lip. Everything seemed alright. For the most part at least. He shook himself and nodded for his brother to come in too. Stanley slid by and went straight for the bed. He fell down on the mattress and let out a sigh. 

"Feet are killin' me. You know, it's weird picking alien's pockets. It's like rubbing up against an elephant with scales, or a snake with the mumps or something weird like that,"

Ford shut the door, then went over and set a bag of their new things on the small table provided. 

"You performed a-a-admirably. I'm pretty sure I failed m-my first test,"

"Did you get booked?"

"What?"

"Jail, Ford. You didn't land yourself in jail. So already, you did better than I ever could've my first pocketing,"

Ford stared woefully at the ceiling. 

"Stanley ... ,"

"Don't. I was just making a joke, it's whatever." 

Ford frowned. He looked back at Stan, eyes locking with his brother. 

"I had you."

"What?"

"I had you. To s-show me. Teach me. To punch that thing that got upset when I tripped over - whatever body part that was," Ford gave Stan a small smile, trying to lift his brother's spirits. "Thanks Stanley. We'll be master criminals yet." 

Stan stared back at him, a smirk twitching at his lips. 

"Careful. I get the feeling that's a real possibility if things keep going the way they are,"

Ford shrugged and walked over to the other bed. 

"Maybe,"

Stan put his hands behind his head. 

"You'd think a master criminal would have better taste in music though - ,"

Ford's face turned pink. He shot Stan an annoyed smile. 

"Come on Lee," he sat down. 

Stan laughed. He was about to sling back another quip when he heard a click and the words died on his lips. 

"Ford ... ,"  

Ford blinked, his eyes widened as panic set in. What? What was wrong? What had Stan noticed?

"Don't move," Stan slowly slid from his spot. 

Ford froze, body tense, as his brother walked over, steps soft on the wooden floorboards. Carefully, Stan knelt down next to Ford's mattress. He closed his eye and Ford could his face screw up in concentration as he tried to listen. His brother reached underneath the bed and his hand stopped, engulfed by the springs up to his wrist. His eye flicked open and he held Ford's gaze. 

A second later he yanked his hand out, tossing something into the kitchen area, and barreled Ford to the ground just as a bomb exploded.

***

A little over an hour later the two brothers stood in another motel room, in a different building, all the way on the other side of town. The two of them did a thorough search of the room before they deemed it safe and dropped onto their respective beds with a groan. 

"What idiot puts bombs under someone's mattress."

Ford shook his head. He didn't know. He was tired, and they each had their own set of mild burns. They'd survived mostly unscathed and had hightailed it out of there before anyone could think to ask questions. 

"Sleep now," he mumbled. "Questioning alien l-l-lunatic mindsets later," 

Stan groaned. 

"I officially hate this planet,"

"S'not so bad," Ford slurred at he trailed off into unconsciousness. "You're okay. S'fine then. Otherwise ... otherwise I mighta ... ," Sleep washed over him.

"Yeah." Stan yawned. "Me too,"

***

Ford woke up in the middle of the night. Thankfully it wasn't a nightmare. Often times it was, but sometimes ... sometimes his mind was kind. Most times it wasn't. 

He couldn't go back to sleep. The nightmare was reality. The eyes were gone, but he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. His heart pounded in his chest as he stared into the darkness. Stan was taking in heavy breaths on the bed beside him. Ford sat up and put his face in his hands. He rubbed under his glasses, not having bothered to even take them off. 

He tried to tell himself everything was fine. That the tense strain of his muscles was fatigue taking its toll. That if he just calmed down. If he closed his eyes and went back to bed. 

The lies were too obvious. 

He swung his legs to the floor and stood. Quietly he glided over to the cabinet. Ford needed a drink. Stan had said complimentary alcohol in a low end place like this was cause for suspicion, but Ford didn't care. He was thinking too much. He always thought far too much. He planned, and outlined, and worried. He needed something to dull his mind. Maybe then his heart would stop trying to pound it's way out of his chest. 

Maybe he wouldn't glance at the window and feel like a prey under scrutiny of it's predator. 

***

Stanley stayed close, but Ford still felt nervous. He cast quick glances over his shoulder every few minutes, but he couldn't see anything. Stanley elbowed him. 

"Okay Ford. Enough. Are we being followed or what?" 

Ford scanned the crowd. 

"Y-y-you t--t-tell m-m-me,"  

They kept walking. A few minutes later Stan shook his head and shrugged. 

"I don't know. I can't tell anything, but if you think otherwise ... ," 

Someone brushed past them in the crowd. Ford crossed his arms and moved closer to his brother, a shiver running down his spine at the contact. But then they were gone, and it was just Ford left alone with his paranoia. He hunched and kept moving. 

Stanley knocked their shoulders. 

"Don't be like that."

Ford let out a breath and uncrossed his arms. He cast another glance back and did a look around. He still couldn't see anything. Stanley put a hand on his back and they continued walking. 

"Whatever. It's - it's just whatever. Come on - I think I smell something tasty over there somewhere. You hungry yet?" 

Ford looked across the street. He pointed to a place selling food. Stan nodded, pointing too, and they headed towards it.

***

He couldn't find Stanley. His shoulders tensed and he whirled around, but his brother was nowhere to be seen. Ford took a few steps forward then stopped. The crowd flowed past him and he shrank away. His eyes jerked from face to face, but his brother was gone. 

His heartbeat picked up. He strode forward, searching the area. Ford took in deep breaths, trying to stay calm and keep his fear under control. His breath caught in his throat. He couldn't see Stanley. He clenched his jaw and spun on his heel as he looked in the other direction. 

Ford stood in the middle of a sea of bodies. He was surrounded. He was alone. 

He couldn't find Stan. 

***

The creature shoved him against the wall. It held out a knife and motioned for Stanley to hand something over. Stan tried to glance past it, outside the alley. He couldn't see Ford from where he was. 

The creature gave him another rough shove, his movements turning more demanding. Stanley looked it up and down, body rigid against the attack. It's build felt slight, it's structured tentacle of an arm brittle and tense. It was tall and thin, towering over him, but it came off as more scared than anything else. Maybe it was the stench. Stanley raised a brow, finding the smell of fear to be a little strange.

A growl rumbled from its throat, the language-less noise a clear sign of its intentions. Stanley narrowed his eyes. He grabbed the knife and tugged. The creature took a step back at his boldness. In a single glance everything became clear. The creature had  been expecting an easy victim in the human. But Stanley was no easy target. He darted forward, not with any particular speed, but fast enough for the sluggish creature. His fist landed at the base of its skull, the sound of its brain producing an unearthly ring as it crumpled to the ground. 

When it woke up, it would find itself robbed blind, and would have learned a thing or two about the art of mugging aliens. But at the moment Stanley finished putting the last of its possessions in his pockets and stepped into the street to look for Ford. 

He was surrounded by beings, tall, short, dark, colorful, slimy, rough. Everyone. So many faces - so many types of faces. His eye jumped from image to image, one at a time. The very thought of trying to look at the wider picture simply overwhelming him. 

He put his face in his hand and let out a groan. 

He'd never find Ford like this. 

***

Rounding a corner, Ford knocked straight into his brother. Stanley reached out and hooked his shirt, even as Ford fell back, nearly landing him on his rear. He was yanked up, landing them inches apart. Closing his eyes, Ford let out a sigh of relief, his breath easing as he took comfort in his brother's presence. He looked up at Stanley and saw him smirking. 

"You okay there?" 

Ford nodded, swallowing back the anxiety that had been threatening to overwhelm him. He blinked then looked down at Stan's arm still fisted in his collar. Stan's grin grew wider. 

Ford looked at Stan's face. The eye patch. The smile. The clothes ... 

Red flags went of in Ford's mind. A slew of physical features all different than Ford remembered. He tried to push it down and ignore it. But when Stan raised a brow and a silent understanding passed between them, Ford knew he wasn't wrong. 

Stan looked around, then leaned close in a conspiratorial way. He paused a moment. Then - 

" ... Run." His hand released Ford's shirt. 

Heart racing fast, Ford turned around and sprinted. 

***

Ford dashed past vendors, rounding corners and trying to skirt away. He glanced over his shoulder, but couldn't see Stan anywhere. Pausing to take a breath, he swallowed hard. Looking forward again, Ford froze. 

Stan stood, leaning against a wall, arms crossed. He waved with a smile. Ford turned and sped the other way. He passed several buildings, taking a few uncharted turns, before stopping to look around. There, walking up at his leisure, was Stan. His smug grin and careless saunter was enough to send Ford off again. 

He was playing with him. Of course he was. Everything was a game to Stanley. But this? This was something else. He stopped, only to regain his bearings, then took off again. He didn't know what to do, and only had a vague idea of what was going on. But one thing was clear. Whoever was chasing him wasn't Stanley. Some sort of doppelganger, shape-shifting telepathic alien, or maybe - another Stan? But his brother was still around here somewhere and Ford had to find him. 

He had to find his Stanley, his brother - Lee. And this ... Stan. He had to get rid of him, and quick. 

Ford rounded the corner and ran straight into Stan. Again. And again Stan caught him by the shirt and yanked him close to keep him from falling. Ford looked at the cool gaze, mind going blank. 

Fingers wrapped around his throat and he jumped for his gun. Stan caught his wrist, stopping him cold. The fingers squeezed on his neck and he gasped. Wrapping his other hand around the arm choking him, Ford tried to pull it off. His lungs struggled to take in air. Under Stan's strong grip, he was raised off the ground, his feet brushing the concrete paved floor. His vision narrowed, and he stared at the black tinted image of his brother smirking up at him. Ford closed his eyes, his chest burning.

***

He woke up to a foggy brain, and a growing pressure behind his eyes. It got worse when he blinked them open. The world was hazy. He realized he didn't have his glasses on, but looking around he saw the blurry outline of an empty room. In it stood a figure - Stanley - ? No. Just Stan. He stepped over and knelt down next to his face. He looked upside down - no wait ... 

"Rise and shine sleepin' beauty." He gave Ford's face a quick double patted slap and stood. 

Ford shook his head, mind clearing. He realized he was hanging upside down by a set of chains around his ankles. He leaned up, confused, but was stopped by another set around his wrists, chaining him to the floor. With his new awareness, fear sparked in his gut. He wheezed, then sputtered out a cough. His throat ached with each intake of air. 

"Careful there," 

Ford glanced up, chest sore. He heard the flow of water through pipes. Stan stood over a sink and was filling a tall glass. 

"You might hurt yourself." Stan chuckled. He turned off the sink and took a sip. Glancing towards Ford he lowered the cup. He gestured to his drink. "You want some?" He came over and looked down at him with a grin.

Ford looked into the face of his brother, hoping to find something - anything to help him figure the situation out. If not sympathy, then at least a sign of telepathic weakness activated by specific frequency of sounds for optimum vulnerability. 

Stan tipped the cup. Water trickled down onto Ford's face. It leaked into his nose and cut off breathing. Ford sputtered and coughed, but it only eased the liquid's passage into his lungs. Stan laughed as Ford gagged through the stream of water he was being drowned in. 

***

Stanley wandered around - nigh aimlessly - for about an hour. To say he was getting worried was an understatement. And to be honest, he wasn't enjoying the various bruises he was acquiring. Depth perception was as annoying as it was necessary. And to top it all off, he barely made it past that - thing - that he had bumped into. Guy had a temper. Or at least. He was pretty sure it was a guy. Now that he thought about it though ... 

Whatever the case, he kept imagining Ford wandering around on his own, and his right eye twitched. He'd have to find his brother soon. At the very least for his own sanity's sake. 

He didn't even want to think about how Ford might be faring. 

***

The bat came down again and another shout ripped through Ford's throat. Searing fire burned through his chest, it was so hard to breath. Every intake of air brought another swell of pain. He choked on blood and coughed. The red trickled past his chin and up his cheek till it dripped to the floor. 

Stan jabbed him with the club and more fire welled against his ribs. He cried out, then quieted as the heat subsided. A throbbing pressure pulsed through his side and he couldn't keep back his moans.

"I'm just saying Sixer. It's not like they have noses. What's to smell?" 

By now Ford could tell this was another Stanley. The biggest giveaway was he wouldn't shut-up. 

"How 'bout you Poindexter? What do you think would hurt more? A skinned reptillian? Or a senseless fur monster?" 

But also the nicknames, the taunting, the general understanding of Ford's apparent nerdy behavior.  

Ford coughed again, a groan escaping him. Stan leaned on him, his elbow digging into his side. Ford's breath caught in his throat and then gave way to sounds of pain. 

"You know. I was thinking about it yesterday. Maybe fire. But then I realized - nah. Too lazy to get creative with that. So I'll just keep swinging at you for a while." He pulled back and took his bat with both hands. 

Ford closed his eyes, body tension for the blow. Stan swung. The wood connected and Ford held back a yell. Stan swung his weapon around, once, twice, then took another wack, sending shock waves up Ford's spine. Stan pulled away, knocking the wood on the ground as if he was up to pitch, then swung again. Each blow gouged deep into Ford's chest and side. He gritted his teeth as the pain rocked his body, shouting when it became to much. Stan eased his grip on the bat and leaned into Ford again. 

"You see, I was just thinking about that explosion at that motel last night. I was thinking 'you know I should try that sometime.' And I thought - yeah, that sounds like fun. Whoever thought it up - them. They've got it. They know what they're doing." He poked Ford again, eliciting more moans. "Kinda nuts, of course." He shrugged. "But fun." 

***

He stabbed at his portal watch for a few minutes, hoping that maybe it could track Ford's. Ten minutes later and Stanley was about ready to throw it on the ground. He leaned against a wall with a huff and stared into the abyss of city. 

He stayed there and fumed for a good while, before pushing off and getting to work. He walked all over, talking to anything that moved. Half the time he got weird noises, up until a few sort of handish gestures had him pointed somewhere. Soon Stanley found someone worth talking to. But the problem was - they didn't want to talk to him. 

His right eye twitched. 

He stepped out of the last building, wiping a bit of blood off his knuckles and onto his pants. He turned and gave a smug smile as he saluted them.

"Nice doing business - jerks." Stanley rolled his eyes and headed another direction, rubbing the new bruises on his arm. He could already hear his brother getting on his case about the fight.

He reached the building he wanted, only for tall yellow creature with a bulbous head to step out and greet him. Stanley walked over.

"Lookin' for ... ," he made a wiggling motion with his fingers, hoping he wasn't being played. 

The creature - she? He was pretty sure it was a she. He could almost feel the 'she'ness. Until he noticed that he could feel a lot more than just that. She craned her neck and glared down. Some sort of strange - telepathic understanding passed between them. She reached into her pocket and showed Stanley a map of instructions written on a napkin from some pizza place. He raised a brow. 

"Classy." 

She held out a hand. Stanley stared at it for a moment. She leaned closer and he was overwhelmed with a feeling. Payment First. 

He swallowed back that strange invasion of his mind, and scowled at her formal tone. 

"Yeah, yeah. Here, just give me a sec - ," he dug around in his pockets, hoping to still have something weird from another dimension. He struck gold. Pulling out a strange shaped thing, they exchanged goods. He hoped Ford didn't want it.  

Stanley stepped back, eye focused on the directions. Behind him the creature turned, but not before tossing one last impression over her shoulder and into his mind. An instruction to be quick and hurry it up. 

Stanley shot her a look. 

"What do you care?" 

But as he walked through the streets, heading towards the location he'd been giving, a feeling of dread began to work its way through his chest. One thing was for sure - the 'map' she'd drawn up? Was made specifically to torment him - he couldn't navigate a thing on the messy scrawled picture! 

As if on cue, he could feel her dark chuckle work its way through the telepathic void and he scowled. 

He looked down at the images again and tried to decipher their meaning in the real world. His foot caught on some edge and he stumbled forward, face landing on a pole as he fell to the ground. He let out a moan and put his head in his hands. 

He needed to find Ford. He didn't know how much longer he could last like this. 

***

Each inhale was a struggle. His chest shook as air crawled to his lungs, but the rest of his body screamed in protest. He glanced across the room to Stan sitting backwards in a chair flipping through his newest Journal. Something in his throat dripped down the wrong pipe and Ford coughed, hacking up more blood. It ran down his face and caught in his eye, making him squint against the salty sweat and redness. 

"Dumb." Stan flicked the page. He read what was written there, then flicked it again. "Boring." He kept going through it. "Junk. Nerdy. Lame." Stan shook his head and glanced up. "Why do you even bother?" His eye trailed back to the page. 

Ford kept looking around the room, but he still couldn't see anything helpful. He gave the chain at his wrist another experimental tug and only succeeded in sending a jolt down side. His body tensed and he squeezed his eyes shut, riding out the wave of pain. 

"Pfft. That is not what that's for."

Ford dragged his gaze to Stan and saw his brow raised at whatever was in the book. Ford let his head drop and closed his eyes. Everything hurt. The pressure at his temples was getting worse, and he could feel his mind's computing power deteriorate as he continued to hang upside down. Some part of him was reasoning how much time he had before the capillaries in his brain expanded enough to hinder the operation of his heart. The other was thinking about his brother. 

Not the twisted version sitting across the room, but his Stanley. He wasn't even sure how they had gotten separated. His mind conjured images of Stan snatching Lee from his side. Attacking his other self. Shooting him down, or leaving him bloody and battered in some alleyway. The idea made something beneath his ribs constrict and Ford coughed again, wheezing as he struggled to take in air. It hurt and he moaned.

Stan glanced up at him with traces of a smile, then went back to looking through the Journal. 

Ford needed his brother. More than anything he needed Lee, but he had no idea where he was or if he was even okay. Not like Ford was doing so well exactly, but at least Stan had put aside the bat and taken a reprieve to mock Ford's documentation of the universe. 

It hit Ford, just then, how dire his situation really was. He tried to shift his legs and found he couldn't feel his feet. There was a constant ache pulsing through him, his joints were being pulled, and he still didn't have anyway out. He had no idea what to do, and could barely think past the growing sound of his own heartbeat pounding away in his head. 

He breathing picked up. Air was thrust through his lungs, causing him to cough and make his injuries throb, but he couldn't help it. He was panicking. Despite every rational argument he tried to tell himself, he couldn't make himself calm down and landed himself in a sputtering mess of rasping gasps. 

Across from him Stan lowered the book and stared at him. Ford groaned, tearing at his throat, and coughing all the harder. A shiver ran past his neck and Ford didn't have the presence of mind to decide whether it was from fear, or the loss of blood. He jerked on his restraints, the obvious jolts of pain following, but he couldn't help it. He needed out. He needed down, and free, and to find his brother before his mind ran out of control. He glared at Stan's cheeky smile, and wondered what could possibly make any version of Stanley enjoy watching him struggle as much he did. 

And then he thought of dozens of answers to that very question and let out another sound of pain because the possibilities his imagination conjured - many grounded in very real events of their past - hurt him almost as much as the raging bruises and most likely broken ribs all across his side. His perception was all twisted around, spiraling out of control, and all the while Stan sat in front of him with a grin. 

Ford gave another tug on his chains, and he cried out at the shock that pulsed across his bones. 

***

"Oh, I know all about you and your 'muse', so don't give me that look. It's - ," Stan shook his head. "It's funny how pathetic you are." He knelt down closer to his face and put on a look of mock sympathy. "You twusted him?"

Ford grimaced and turned away. Stan straightened with a laugh. 

"Stanford Pines. Most Gullible Nerd. You know, I should get that framed." He gave Ford a sharp prod, making him grit his teeth in pain. "I bet you haven't even told that other me about him have you? Too afraid. Wouldn't wanna tarnish that ego of yours, now would you?" He raised a brow. 

Ford glared at him and held his gaze. A moment passed before Stan cocked his head. 

"Really?" He took a step back. "Huh." His eye drifted across the room and he stepped over to the bat. "Well bully for you." He picked it up and gave it a twirl, his smile falling back into place. "Still gonna wail on you some more." 

He swung, the wood sailing for another blow. Ford flinched, body tense, and the stick stopped, inches from making contact. A moment passed. Ford looked up and Stan pulled back, grinning. 

"I could do this forever. You're such a laugh Sixer."

Ford swallowed and began to tremble, nerves betraying his apprehension. Stan snorted. 

"Don't get your hopes up too much. Depends how long you last." He shrugged. "We're just waiting to see what gives first." He tossed him a wicked grin.

He watched as Ford let out a sigh, interrupted by a fit of coughs, but let his head fall back as he closed his eyes. His discomfort was obvious in the pulsing vein bulging against his neck, his skin flush and red, face slick with sweat. 

Stan adjusted his hold on the bat. 

"Buckle in. We're going for another round." He threw a few trial swings, as if gauging his aim, then pulled back, ready to strike. 

Ford shivered, tensing for the blow. Stan grinned at his unease, and went for the hit. 

The sound of a door opening somewhere in the building reached Stan's ears. He stopped short, pulling back on his swing. The wood landed with nothing more than a dull tap before Stan straightened, but Ford hissed as it connected with his bruised and tender side.

Stan stood a moment, ears angled to listen out for another noise. It came in the form of heavy feet wandering the halls above them. They sat in silence as someone traveled around in the upper level. Another moment passed before Stan moved towards the door, replacing the bat against the wall and making his way to leave. He pulled open the door and cast a look back, putting a finger to his lips in a playful gesture to keep quiet, before stepping out. 

Stan moved down the hall, listening as the figure headed for the stairs. Going near the exit, he peered around the corner. The intruder came into view. Stan's nostrils flared. Standing there, taking a sweeping gaze around the room, was another Stanley. 

Stan slunk away, and headed for the circuit breaker. In a single flip of a switch, the lights went out. 

He moved back towards his counterpart, eyes adjusting to the gloom as his night-vision kicked in. The other Stanley - Lee - was standing tense and alert in the dark. Stan stepped forward, staring at the man, a scowl planted on his features. He'd left him alone for a reason. It wasn't his fault the fool came to find him. 

He went to his holster and unclicked his gun. 

To his surprise he was tackled to the ground, weapon flying out his hand. Stan threw out a punch, landing it in Lee's chest. He heard a grunt, but was caught by a fist slamming into his jaw. He pushed Lee off him, but they rolled, each trying to hit the other. 

They grappled, till Stan broke away. He slid to the edge of the room, aiming to use the lack of light to his advantage. They were both breathing heavy, but it only took a moment for Lee to catch his breath, turn on his heel, and head straight for him. Stan growled, and swerved to the side, but it didn't matter. Lee found him with a sharp punch under his chin that sent him sprawling. 

Stan crumpled the floor, head spinning. He looked up to see Lee step away, then race down the corridor, hand running across the wall as he left. Stan got to his knees then shook himself. He ground his teeth, heart pounding in his ears. He seethed and moved to make that idiot regret coming. 

He stood and felt his limbs fill with a empowering flow of energy. His hands clenched into fists and he strode back the room, murder in his eyes. The door stood ajar, but when he tried to enter a blast sailed past his head. He jerked back, taking cover behind the frame of the entrance. He poked his head in and saw through the dark, his counterpart shooting away at the chains with Stan's own forgotten weapon. 

He moved to enter, only for Lee to turn at his presence and fire off another discharge, forcing Stan to retreat. Stan narrowed his eyes, but stepped away. He moved to the circuit board and turned the lights back on. 

Going to the room, he went inside. Ford was laying passed out on the ground, the blood rush from his head seeping down again. Lee turned as he entered and stopped cold. 

The two Stanleys stared at each other. Stan shot his counterpart a morbid grin. Lee's lip curled in a snarl and he took aim with the gun. 

Stan moved out of the way and surged forward, catching Lee with a shot to the chest. His counterpart stumbled, back catching against the wall. Stan moved to get in another hit, only for Lee to box him across the head. They fought, each landing a series of blows. Stan's punches hard and fast, his strength and speed amplified by his anger and the power he was drawing from. He gave his counterpart a powerful kick that sent him sailing across the room. 

Lee crawled to his feet on trembling legs, but his face was twisted in an expression of furry. Stan broke into a smile at his frustration. He planned to show his counter just where exactly helping Ford got you. 

They came at each other again. Lee landed several solid punches that had Stan's head spinning. Stan shook himself, fighting back the growing buzz in his ears. He hit Lee in the gut, only to be kicked in the shin. Stan took a knee, lungs working hard. He glared up at Lee, and his counterpart glared right back before punching him to the ground. He laid there for a moment, his breathing ragged.

His heart pounded in his ears. This Stanley came here, looking for Ford. Even after Stan had given him the perfect opportunity to just walk away, and he didn't take it. Instead he came, interrupting Stan's job. A job he liked - oh so much. And he had the nerve to be angry? Stan would give him something to be upset about. 

He stood to his feet. Lee swung, but Stan swerved with inhuman speed. He came behind his counter part and struck behind his knee. Lee tripped to the floor and Stan back-handed him to the ground. Stan kicked him and Lee rolled. 

Lee struggled to his feet and Stan kicked him again. And then again. And then again. His counterpart gritted his teeth and let out a cough. Blood dripped from his lip and he spit. Stan snatched him by the shirt and shoved him into the wall. With a grin, he beat his fist across his face again, and again, and again. On the fourth time, Lee caught it, so Stan threw him across the room. 

Lee tried to rise, and Stan walked over. He grabbed him by the hair and yanked Lee's head up. Lee glowered at him, one hand deep in his coat, clutching whatever pain might've hurt there. Stan smirked down at him and raised his arm, taking aim for another strike. 

Something plunged deep into Stan's side and he doubled over in pain. Lee staggered back, hand covered in red as Stan grasped at the knife digging between his ribs. He growled, and lurched forward, hand out stretched to snatched his counterpart. But Lee stumbled away, his expression bitter, but wary. 

Before Stan could get far, Lee turned and rushed to the sink, slamming against the counter. He scooped up as many of the objects there as he could. Stan swallowed back blood, and moved to catch him, but Lee raced towards Ford and skidded to a stop by his side, fumbling with a watch. 

Lee cast one last hateful glance over his shoulder, and before Stan could reach them, the two Pines Twins were gone in a flash of inter-dimensional light. 

Stan growled and fell back, leaning against a wall and sliding down. He took a shaking hand and pulled the knife out of his side, gasping against the pain. It dropped to the floor with a clatter and Stan let his head fall back, breathing heavy. 

He gritted his teeth and slammed his fist against the ground.

***

Stanley closed his eyes against the crossing between dimensions. When he felt land reassert itself under him, he dropped, exhaustion overtaking him for a moment. He took in deep breaths, body aching from the fight. And then he opened his eyes, mind alert. He looked over at his brother and dragged himself up. 

"Ford. Ford are you okay?" He looked him up and down and grimaced at what he saw. "No. Dumb question. Ford?" He gave his brother's shoulder a light shake. 

Ford moaned. He turned his head, then blinking his eyes open, stared up at Stanley with a confused expression. It was replaced by a flinch and a hiss, his arms immediately wrapping around his injuries. Stanley jumped to pacify him. 

"It's alright. It's okay, I've got you." Stanley moved his gaze to look where they were, and dragged a rough hand through his hair. "It's alright. We'll get you all patched up." He glanced back at his brother and put a hand on his arm. 

Ford stiffened, making Stanley pull back with a frown. 

"Ford?" A thought popped into his head. "That - that wasn't me." He squeezed his eyes shut, anger welling inside. "It wasn't me - I wouldn't - you gotta know I wouldn't ever - ," 

A hand landed on his arm and gave him a reassuring squeeze. Stanley look up and the two brothers shared a look. Stanley bit his lip, but nodded. 

"Okay." He nodded again. "Alright. We're good." He glanced around again. "Just peachy." He stood to his feet, hissing at his bruises. "Come on." He swallowed. "Let's get you patched up." 

Ford moaned again, and turned his head away. Stanley let out a sigh. 

"I know. I know, I'm sorry." He reached down. "But we gotta move. Come on." He tried to get a grip under him. 

 Ford moaned again and waved him off with a weak arm. Stanley tried to readjust his hold.

"I know, I'm sorry. But Ford, seriously." He went to pull him up.

 Ford tried to shove him away, and Stanley stopped moving. Ford closed his eyes. Stanley frowned. 

"Alright, well now you're just being difficult."

Chapter Text

"A-a-are you s-s-sure?" Ford swallowed and glanced behind them as they ran. 

The maniacs swinging large blades over their heads chased behind them. Stan tripped over himself, but Ford helped him stay steady and kept leading him forward. Stanley nodded his head. 

"We have how many bullets? Against all of that? I'm a hundred percent sure! Now get us out of here!"

"B-b-but - ," 

The ground beneath them shook and the two brothers struggled to keep their footing. A great geyser of lave exploded to their left. They dropped to the floor as the dirt rumbled beneath them. Stan gripped Ford's sleeve. 

"Look, I mucked up! Now get us out!"

Ford took one last look at their attackers. Their murderous expressions made him go straight to his watch. In a flash of light the two disappeared. 

***

They emerged, leaves flying as they landed on a cold, damp patch of grass. Ford opened an eye and stared at their new surroundings. The air was much cooler, and a dense layer of fog covered a thick forest. 

Ford got to his knees and swatted Stan's arm, gaze still intent on looking through the tress. Stanley grunted. 

"We're not dead yet, are we?" 

Ford made a noise in the negative and Stanley blinked open an eye.

"Good." He rolled over. "Then just let me sleep here for a minute." He yawned and curled up on the floor. "Those guys were a handful ... ,"

Ford glared down at his brother. 

"No, yes. You go right ahead Stanley. We've all the time in the world now, don't we?"

"Hey. You pressed the button."

"I told you not to mess with the reactor. Why don't you ever listen to me?" 

"Meh," 

"Stanley."

***

"So how much longer. This place is dull as rocks." Stan kicked at a stone loosely buried in the dirt. 

Ford rolled his eyes.

"Don't start." 

"Are we - there? Done. Are we done yet? No wait ... give me a sec and I'll come up with something more annoying."

"Switch with me."

"What?"

Ford grabbed Stan's wrist and undid his watch. He undid his own and handed it to Stan before glancing at the screen.

"Until this thing charges back up, we're stuck here." Ford smacked the back of Stan's head. "And I swear Lee. If you spend that time driving me up the metaphorical wall - ," 

"Alright, alright. Note taken." Stan rubbed his head. "Yeesh, lighten up." 

Ford let out a sigh. He looked down at the watch and mentally groused at their situation. He was starting to get hungry. 

Stan elbowed him. 

"Hey." He pointed. "Do you think there's anything over that hill?" 

Ford looked up and around. 

"What," he pointed too. "That one?"

Stan shrugged. 

"Well do you?"

"No. Not really. Why?" 

Stan rolled his head back. 

"I dunno, I'm bored."

Ford shook his head. 

"This place looks like it's deserted. Which we should be thankful for. Now at least you can't get into anymore trouble while we wait."

Stan mumbled something under his breath. Ford nudged him.

"Oh? What was that? Couldn't hear you."

"Nothing."

"You sure? Don't wanna share with the class?"

"Shut up." 

"You shut up."

Stan stuck his finger in his mouth, pulling it out with a loud pop, and went for Ford's ear. Ford ducked away. 

"Don't you dare!"

Stan laughed. 

"Come here Poindexter." He grabbed at Ford' wrist and tugged. 

"Stanley get off me! Don't - !"

***

They walked through the forest, nowhere to go, but content to keep moving.

Stan stopped and furrowed his brows. 

"You smell that?" he murmured. 

 Ford frowned and shook his head. He looked around. They both stayed silent. 

***

Ford froze. 

He stared across the trees at the creature standing there. A large, sightless beast - like a dog - with it's ears pricked and angled towards the twins. Stan followed his brother's gaze and stiffened. 

"Gun," he whispered.

The beast jerked its head towards their direction. Stan grabbed hold of Ford's arm and stumbled back. 

"Gun." 

The beast jumped forward and broke into a sprint. The twins bolted away and Ford fumbled for their weapon. He did his best to keep Stan on his feet and to get ready to aim. Behind them the creature swerved through the trees like water, its vision-less expression boring into their backs. It growled, the noise echoing farther than just their ears, but down their spines and through their bones. It sounded inches away, but when Ford looked back he could see it sill several yards off and gaining.

 Stan swallowed and huffed out a command. 

"Shoot it! Shoot it now!"

Ford paused in their retreat and turned to to aim. They only had three shots left. He couldn't afford to miss. He aimed for it's head and hesitated. Would that kill it? Would one shot kill it? Was it's brain behind it's skull? What if he missed? What if he wasted all three bullets?

Stan squeezed his shoulder.

"Pull the trigger." 

He waited too long. The beast jumped at them. It landed on top of him, knocking the weapon away. Stan bashed his fists against its head, and the beast turned on him. Ford got to his feet and scrambled to find the gun.

Stan struggled to keep the beast off. He stumbled back and fell to the ground. His hand fell on a stick and he pulled it up as gaping jaws snapped at him. He stared, one eye wide, at the growling face. Thick drops of drool rolled down the piece of wood and slicked his grip. The beast shoved itself forward, readjusting its hold, and Stan could hear the wood splintering underneath the pressure. 

"Ford!" His heart was a wild rhythm in his chest. He closed his eyes, but it only enhanced the heavy stench overwhelming him. "F-F-Ford where are you!" 

The wood cracked and then broke in two. It snapped at his face with a growl and Stan turned his head away, keeping it off by kicking at its underbelly. 

A shot went off. 

The beast went limp on top of him and Stan stiffened as its weight slumped. Ford was at his side  second later, hands pulling at his brother in an attempt to drag him out from under the beast's form. Stan crawled out and flopped down, breathing heavy. 

Ford made frantic attempts at looking his brother over for injuries, but Stan waved him off. 

" 'M fine," he mumbled. He tensed, squeezing his fists till they shook, then relaxed. Stan rolled over and sat up, nodding Ford's way. "Nice shot." He coughed, throat dry. When it cleared he glanced down at the beast. Saw the seeping wound. Nodded his head. "Really nice shot," 

Ford went to help Stan to his feet, but his brother relaxed against him. 

"No - just. Sit here. For a moment." Stan swallowed. "Not like we've anything better to do." 

Ford opened his mouth to argue, but when nothing would still come out, he gave in and let his brother lean on him. Stan closed his eyes, and Ford stared at the creature's corpse.

***  

"So much for this planet being deserted." 

Ford nodded. 

"Mm," 

Stanley glanced sideways at him. He ran a hand through his hair and let his head fall back as he looked high into the sky. He swung his weight and dropped it onto his brother, leaning against his shoulder and making Ford struggled to stand. 

Ford grumbled and tried to push him away, but Stanley dragged on him. 

"Come on, talk to me. I'm getting stir crazy already and we have - how long?" 

Ford pulled himself away, letting Stan trip and catch himself, and glanced at the watch. Stan straightened and gave him an expectant look. 

"Well?"

Ford eyed him, then kept walking. Stanley's shoulders sagged. 

"No. No don't do this to me." He started walking again too. "Not now. Not when I'm so bored. Not when there's nothing to do. No one else here. Not a single - ," 

Ford shot him a look. Stanley paused, then let out a sigh. 

"Alright fine. Not in the mood I guess." He looked away. "Figures. Whatever. I'll just ... have to sing ninety-nine bottles of beers on the wall!"

Ford groaned and Stan snickered. 

"You leave me no choice Poindexter. Unless ... you've something more interesting to 'discuss' ... ?" 

Ford shook his head into his hand. Stan shrugged. 

"Ah well. Too bad." He breathed in and started to chant. "99 bottles of beer on the wall. 99 bottles of beer. Take one down. Pass it around. 98 bottles of beer on the wall. 98 bottles of beer on the wall. 98 bottles of beer - ," 

"F-f-for h-h-he - h-heavens s-s-sake L-L-Lee," 

Stan stopped and flashed him a cheeky grin. Ford looked at it, and couldn't help a small smile of his own. Stan slung an around around his shoulder. 

"There it is. Come on, sing it with me - ,"

Ford rolled his eyes high into the sky and Stan started up again. 

"97 bottles of beer on the wall. 97 bottles of beer. Take one down. Pass it around - ," 

"96 b-b-bottles of b-b-beer on the w-wall." 

"Alright! Now you've got it. 96 bottles of beer on the wall - ," 

"96 b-bottles of b-beer." 

"Take one down." 

"P-pass it a-a-around." 

"95 bottles of beer on the wall!" 

***

"23 bottles of beer on the wall."

"23 bottles of beer." 

"Take - ," Stan paused. " ... one ... down ... ," he stopped walking. 

Ford blinked, his smile dropped, and he turned to his brother. He flicked his gaze around them, trying to catch sight of danger. Next to him, Stan broke away, ears concentrated on listening.

"Do you," he murmured, "think there was ... more than one of those things?" His hands wrapped into fists, almost with a mind of their own.

Ford put a comforting hand on his shoulder, eyes still roaming. They waited. A tense silence grew. 

Ford's throat constricted as he saw another one of the beast creatures emerge through the fog. Stan stepped back, and this time instead of saying a word, he swatted at his brother. Ford went for the gun. They had two shots left. That left an even smaller room for error. 

And then ...

Two more beasts stepped out of the fog, and stood next the first. 

Stan choked and put a hand over his mouth. Ford stood stiff, the same thought going through both their minds. They only had two shots. Two ... and there were three beasts. 

One of the creatures stepped forward, nose high in the air, sniffing on the wind. Ford stood frozen as he stared. Stan turned and urged his brother to move. He pulled at his arm and Ford started leading Stan away, still keeping a eye over his shoulder. 

The beasts started at their escape, and took a few cautious steps forward. The twins broke into a sprint. They raced through the forest, hearts beating. Ford glanced over his shoulder and stumbled as he saw the three creatures closing in. He turned forward again and kept running. 

They clung to each other, blood pounding in their ears as they ran, unsure where to go or what to do. Branches struck at them as they broke through the shrubbery, but it hardly went noticed as they pressed on. Their legs surged with adrenaline as they forced their way further and further through the trees. 

They ran to the edge of a hill and slipped down it, loose soil coming free as they moved. Behind them the beasts leaped forward.

At the bottom, the ground grew wet and swampy. The twins struggled through a marsh, till solid lengths of wood crisscrossed, creating a firm level to race over. Stanley slipped, foot dipping beneath the planks and sinking deep into a pound below. Ford struggled to pull him up, but an idea hit Stan. 

He pulled at Ford's arm, taking a deep breath and gesturing for his brother to imitate the action. Ford did, and together they dove, sliding past the wood and moving as low as they could swim. When they hit the bottom, Stan gripped the foliage growing there and anchored him and his brother as Ford looked up. Above them the three creatures stood on the planks. They started to swat between the pieces of wood, but were too big. They couldn't fit in the holes. 

Stan squeezed his grip on his brother's arm and gestured for the gun. Ford's eyes widened and he rushed to pull it out. Taking aim, he tried to look past the distortion of water.  Stan steadied him, even as his body began to want for air and his lungs tried to guide him back to the surface. 

A shot went off. 

Above them one of the creatures dropped. Ford swallowed as best he could and turned to see Stanley giving him an encouraging smile and releasing his grip for a quick thumbs up. Ford turned back and tried to determined which creature to shoot next. He only had one bullet left. And there were two more beasts. 

A  sudden noise broke through to their ears. Ford jerked at the sound, but he felt Stan release his grip and he turned to see bubbles rising as his brother put his head in his arms. Ford looked up and saw the two remaining creatures lifting their heads high as they emitted an ear splitting shriek. Some sort of mourning cry, Ford guessed, as one broke off to nudge the dead corpse and then started again. Stan tugged at Ford's sleeve, making him turn to see his desperate expression as he ran out of air. Stanley pointed up, still holding an arm over his ear with a pained expression. Ford felt himself getting light headed too, and a growing pressure built behind his eyes. 

He looked at the two remaining creatures and thought of something. He pulled Stanley with him as they shifted across the bottom of the pound. Above them the beasts started swatting at the water again, still sending off that noise. Ford felt Stanley's grip weakening as the beasts cry went on, and he hurried to aim. 

There were two of them. He had one shot left. Two. One. Ford couldn't decide where to point the weapon. And if he missed. 

Ford's lungs burned. He choked and bubbles rose to the surface. Stan was growing weak. His hold on his brother was the only thing keeping him from rising. 

Ford pulled the trigger. 

He jerked, pushing off the ground, not even bothering to see if he hit home before dragging Stanley and himself up. He broke through the surface and gasped, head spinning as it received air. Blinking, he tried to clear his mind and glanced at his brother. Stan was lying still. Arms shaking, Ford pulled himself up and then tugged Stanley out too. He stared, at a loss for what to do. 

Stan jerked and woke up in a coughing fit. Ford rushed to turn him onto his side and rubbed his back as his brother expelled any excess water. Stanley groaned. 

"That smarts ... ," he coughed some more. 

Ford glanced next to them and spotted the beasts. He took in a few deep breaths, eyes wide at the three creatures lying there. Stan glanced up too and gaped. 

"Whoa ... ," he turned to look at Ford and raised a brow. "Really, really nice shot ... ," 

Ford swallowed. He'd hit both beasts with a single bullet. 

One of the creatures stirred. Both twins jerked and whipped their heads around. The beast hauled itself to its feet and they could see a trail of purple leaking from a spot near its shoulder. The beast tried to walk and stumbled. 

Stan grabbed hold of Ford's arm and moved to leave. Ford followed, but both brothers only got so far before they stopped and collapsed across the pound. They took a moment to catch their breath, exhaustion catching up to them. The beast had also fallen, next to the other two, and sat their making a keening noise. 

Stan shook his head, but when he opened his mouth he had nothing to say. He closed it again and they both stared at the beasts. 

***

Another creature appeared over the top of the hill. Ford went rigid as he spotted it. Stan's breath caught in his throat -

And then another appeared. 

The two brothers stood to their feet - 

And then there was another. And another. And another. A dozen of the beasts rounded the top of the hill and stood, vision-less gazes pointed towards the three down below. 

Stanley took a step back, trembling. He ran a hand across his forehead and whispered,

"Well that just ain't fair." 

The beasts' heads snapped in their direction. 

The twins turned and ran. Behind them the pack slid down the hill and took a moment to pause at the two dead bodies and the other injured one. A collective howl spit the air, this time multiplied and unhindered by the depths of a pond. 

Stanford and Stanley tripped and stopped cold, minds frozen as they dropped their heads between their arms. The screeching shrieks rolled through their ears in a pounding wave, pushing all other thoughts out. There was a lull in the its intensity. Ford gritted his teeth and caught a glimpse of the pack breaking off and heading in their direction. He forced himself to take Stan's arm and started pulling them forward. 

The pack growled and the noise was less grating, but still harsh to listen to. Ford pulled Stanley through the trees, uncertain where to run but desperate to flee. The edge of a cliff came into view. Stan slowed, but Ford tugged him on. With a wild look in his eye, Stan turned to Ford and shook his head. 

"A-a-absolutely not. Nope. No. Nuh-uh. Let's just not - ," Stan glanced behind them at the hailstorm of growling faces getting nearer, all poised to spring and rip them to shreds. He grimaced and turned back to Ford. "What are you thinking of?" 

Ford had already caught sight of what he needed. He pulled Stanley to a set of vines and took hold. Stanley let out a low moan, but he bit his lip and grabbed on with closed eyes. In a hoarse voice he muttered, "We're dead." 

Ford guided them, and they kicked off, jumping across the divide and swinging to the other side. Stan gritted his teeth and clutched the vine for dear life. They landed. Ford let go, but Stan still held on. He felt himself swinging back, but he couldn't bring himself to release his hold. Ford chased after him and tried to tug him away. The vine snapped and Stan dropped, rolling till he came to a stop. Stan opened his eye to see his head hanging over the edge of the cliff, the deep chasm stretching down below. 

"GAH!" Stan scrambled from the edge, breathing ragged. He looked down and with a trembling hand, picked up the vine. It's length bunched around him. His face was ashen as he glanced up at Ford, eye wide. "I-I-It j-j-just - ," 

Ford barely spared him a glance as he focused on the pack skidding to a halt at the edge. They stood there pacing back and forth. One started up the howl and the rest joined in. The twins doubled over in pain, clamping their hands over their ears. Stan gasped for air as he struggled to breathe, mind overwhelmed. 

A beast back up, then raced forward in a running start. It leaped, flying across the edge. The loud cries paused, and there was a still moment of silence as everything waited while the beast seemed to hover in the air. 

It landed, claws outstretched, and caught the ground, hind legs kicking, scrambling for a hold. Ford stumbled back in fearful surprise, his legs giving out beneath him. Stan got up and swiped a stick off the ground. He whacked the creature in the head, sending it falling, then turned and pulled at Ford's arm, urging him to run. 

The pack started up their shout again, making Stanley and Stanford go stiff as they held their heads. Ford forced himself to move forward and pulled Stanley with him. They struggled to run, even as the beasts began to clear the distance between the cliffs. Moving through the trees, Ford saw the pack coming up behind them, their howl drowned out by their effort to reach the twins. 

Ford focused on keeping ahead, but with each step he felt closer and closer to the inevitable. The beasts would catch up. They would catch them with their teeth and rip into him. Rip into Stanley. After everything they'd survived, it would end here. And there was nothing he could do. They were out of bullets. Out of weapons, out of opportunity, out of time. 

They were going to die. 

Stan jerked him to the side, catching him off guard. 

Ford cried out in surprise, and Stanley tripped. They pulled themselves up and Stan tugged him on. He glanced at his brother. His face was pale and beads of sweat gathered on his brow. But he jerked his head and gestured somewhere in front of them. Ford tensed his jaw, but followed. A strange smell crept past his nose, making him grimace. It grew stronger as Stan kept guiding him through the trees. Several beasts in the pack made barking growls and it sent an uncontrollable shiver down Ford's spine. 

Suddenly Stan yanked Ford down. They slipped to the edge of a tree and Ford's nose flared as the stench hit him. He saw Stan's face screwed up in discomfort, but his brother still hauled them beneath a thick set of roots. 

Above them, the pack broke through the trees, catching up as the twins took the time to apparently hide. The beasts charged past, but slowed some ways beyond. Beside him, Ford could feel Stanley's chest rise and fall at a rapid rate, and Ford could heart his own heartbeat racing beneath his ribs. 

Ford watched the pack come to a stop and began to sniff the air. Some tilted their heads to listen, and others walked in small circles as they searched. Stanley and Stanford sat paralyzed as they waited. An eternity seemed to pass before the beasts gathered together and sat down, their search being deemed a failure. Ford closed his eyes and inhaled. 

Maybe they wouldn't die after all. All they needed was to sit and wait. 

A high pitched howl split the air. 

Ford silently winced, but Stanley strangled out a gasp. The cries paused, alerted by the noise. The twins stiffened, eyes wide as they waited in tense silence. A moment passed. The pack started up again. 

The sound pierced their ears, sending daggers behind their eyes. It ached. They huddled beneath the roots, heads feeling like small explosions were rocking against their skulls. Stanley began to pant, the pain making him out of breath. He moaned - Ford rushed to cover his mouth. 

The beasts stopped their cries and switched to a growl. Half a dozen of them jumped up and started sniffing the ground. The others went on shouting into the air. Ford held his brother as the pressure built around their minds. He covered Stan's mouth and they each waited while the beasts searched around for them. Stanley trembled, and it was all he could do not to cry out. 

Ford watched as a few of the beast paced back and forth on the forest floor. They kept their ears pricked for more signs of the two brothers hiding beneath the roots. But Ford kept his hands in firm place across Stan's mouth, and kept his own sounds of discomfort at bay. 

Stanley jerked. Ford held him in place. Concern for his brother stemmed inside him. The noise was deafening. 

***

They wouldn't stop. The same, agonizing noise, on and on as if they didn't have anything better to do. It shifted in tone and pitch. Sometimes coming out low and grating. Other times high, sharp, and piercing. It promised a constant wave of pain. Never disappointing as the beasts switched volumes for a new flavor of torment each time.

Stanley couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. The howls consumed everything. He wanted to run. To get away. Escape. Scream.

Ford held him still and they waited. 

***

There was quiet. The pack left. 

Or, Stanley and Stanford assumed they did.

The stayed in the cover of the roots and waited. The quiet felt like bliss compared to before. 

***

Stanley glanced over at his brother. He looked away and leaned back. He shifted with a grimace. They'd been sitting for hours. He glanced back at Ford. 

Looking away, Stan stuck out an innocent arm and stretched, bopping his brother in the head. Ford swatted it away and shifted. Stan grinned. He withdrew any pretenses and started poking Ford in the arm and the face. 

Ford smacked his hand and gave him a sharp glare to which Stanley only sneered. Ford caught his wrist and put a hand to his lips, shooting a wary gaze outside the roots. Stanley rolled his eyes. The pack was long gone. He just wanted to leave already. 

He bent over and grabbed Ford by the neck, rubbing his fist in his brother's hair, giving him a good noogie. Ford struggled to push him off. 

"Ack - ! Stanley," he whispered.

"Pfft - ," Stan let go and shoved Ford away with a smirk. "They're gone." Despite his claims, Stan kept his voice low. "You're just being paranoid - ,"

"Shh!" 

Stan rolled his eyes. He spoke at a normal volume. 

"Can we go already? It's been ages." 

Ford gave him a sharp glare, then let his eyes trail out again. His face screwed up in indecision. Stan grinned and knocked their elbows, doing his best to take advantage of his brother's doubt.

"We'll stretch. I'm getting stiff." 

A moment passed, then Ford shook his head. Stan huffed a sigh. 

"Fine. You stay here then - ," he move to leave. 

Ford snatched his sleeve and held him back. Stan set his jaw and gave his brother a determined face. They had a standoff. Ford's resolve wavered. Finally he hung his head. Against his better judgment he muttered out 'fine.'

Stan's lips twitched upwards and he cupped his ear. 

"What? Didn't quite catch that."

Ford slugged him and Stanley laughed. Ford smiled. The tension in his tense limbs relaxed. Ford heard a slick pop, and turned in time to catch Stan's wrist away from his ear. 

"Wh - Stanley."

"Where you goin', eh? I'm not doin' nothin' ." Stan fought to shove his finger forward, a mischievous grin planted on his face.

Ford struggled to hold him at bay, but he couldn't keep from smiling. 

"Would you - ! K-k-knock that o-off!" He shoved his brother off him and they sat grinning. 

The nightmare of the last few hours seemed to disappear as Stanley ran a hand through his own hair and Ford rolled his eyes. Stanley moved to leave. 

He shot back as a thundering stream of snarls shattered the air. 

Snapping teeth filled Ford's vision as the eyeless gaze of the creature forced itself through the roots, its razor claws hunting to shred the two petrified brothers.

***

Ford flicked purple droplets off himself, and Stanley leaned against the tree. The beast's corpse laid on the ground, its mouth twisted open by the stick jutting out of its head at an obscene angle. The brothers shared a look and Stanley made a gesture of zipping his mouth, not a trace of his earlier playfulness in the action. He looked away. 

Ford ran his hand through his hair. They needed to move. 

He spotted one of the sightless hounds come through the fog and winced. They're scuffle had attracted more creatures. Of course it had. Of course. He shared a look with his brother. They turned to leave, but stopped when more of the beasts appeared from that end. They took a step back and Ford looked over his shoulder. He watched as a pack emerged behind them. They were surrounded by dozens. 

He couldn't see how they were going to get out of this. It seemed like the entire planet's population of hellish hounds had gathered to stalk them. Stanley's face looked set, but considerably pale. Ford was sure his own expression seemed the same. 

One of the creatures growled. A chorus of angry barks built around them. 

A few stepped forward, and in a matter of seconds they were converging. Ford yanked Stanley to the side and tried to slip through a crack along the edge of the line of beasts, all of them pounding against the ground and racing forward. Ford stared ahead, his attention fixed on running as fast as he could.

A beast slammed into his side and he crashed into the dirt. The creature wriggled and snapped at him, its teeth dripping drool as it tried to bite down. Its weight dropped away and Ford found his hand in Stan's as his brother pulled him to his feet. 

They kept running. Ford chanced a glance and stopped short as he realized the beats were in fact two separate packs, and they were fighting each other in a vicious clash. Almost all of them were too busy ripping into each other to notice the two humans retreating from view. Until another hound slid to a halt in front of them and leaped. The brothers ducked down, and the beast soared over their heads only to have another creature crash into it midair. The twins didn't spare a moment and ran past. 

They skirted the thickest centers of wrestling creatures and surged past the edges. It wasn't too far when the ghoulish howls started. They tripped and glanced back, their ears suffering from the noise, but they forced themselves to face forward and move through it. 

***

They huddled against a sharp drop off, the twisted roots of a tree sticking out above them to create an almost cave-like enclosure. Ford's nose burned. He was sure that Stanley's had gone numb. He glanced at his brother and shifted the hand over his mouth. Stan was caked in drying mud. The stench was overwhelming. He focused on keeping out whatever particles were eating past his fingers and finding their way to his nostrils. 

A shift of dirt fell down from above and the twins stiffened as a beast leaped over their heads and raced past. They didn't relax, even when it was well out of sight. A few minutes later and another one jumped across and chased after it. It disappeared too. 

The two of them waited in silence. 

***

Perching in a tree, the two brothers did their best to keep still. Ford kept an eye on the pack stalking the ground beneath them, unaware of the twins' presence. Stanley was quiet, his eye shut as he stayed as close to the tree's trunk as he could get. 

The pack opened their mouths to howl, the noise just as deafening as before. 

***

Several beasts pounced, landing hard on their opponents. Ford stared as the pack turned on each other, vicious claws tearing into flesh without reason. A brutal fight broke out, their harsh growls echoing in the forest. 

Stanley focused on his brother, his attention fixed in efforts to drown out where they were. Whatever was happening. The noise. The damp stench that added to the setting. 

Ford sat tense. He couldn't look away. Eyes wide he watched as the creatures ripped their fellow beast literal limb from limb. Hind legs and forepaws were dragged off as painful shrieks split the air. Dark purple swam across the grass as several animals fell to the attackers swarming them. Teeth shredded throats, even as air struggled to gain passage, and the brutal onslaught persisted. 

Ford watch, and grim fascination prevented him from diverting his gaze. Bloodied jaws ripped into delicate underbelly, spilling out vital parts of their anatomy - 

Several weak and wounded hounds struggled to limp out of the fray. They were caught. Hunted down before they could get out of reach. Dragged back as they kicked and growled, fighting for their life, but losing their energy to continue. 

Bones were cracked, the noise shattering the air - then shrieks. A shiver ran down Ford's spine, thoughts of those same heavy set paws landing on his skull. Or Stanley's. Images of those teeth as they cut through muscle with delicate skill. He couldn't help but admire their hunter precision, even as it welcomed visions of that same proficiency used on him or his brother. 

When the savage battle lessoned, pieces of the dead creatures were torn off and pulled to private spots where ... 

Waves of sick heat rolled over Ford as the beasts tore into their fellow hounds and ate. He told himself to stare away, but the idea was too bizarre. He sat frozen, his heart pounding with newfound interest and fear. His eyes took in it all. Even as a smaller scuffle broke out, a trio of beasts fighting over scraps, he couldn't stop examining the horror in the display. Heads sat unwanted, their jaws left at an unnatural angle. The gruesome scene left a feeling of putrid filth on his psych, even as his thoughts worked to decode a reason for the nauseating actions.

Sometime after jaws were licked clean, the earsplitting howls began again.

***

There was a rustle in the tree across from them. The leaves silently twitched and Ford waited, tense. A sightless head slid out from between branches, it's appearance clamping a tight constriction around Ford's throat. He'd thought they were safer high up. But as the beast stalked across wood, it's claws a perfect shape to fit the rough bark and climb, he realized they were just as exposed as on the ground. 

The hound sprang from it's perch, making Ford's heart leap as the beast dropped back to the ground, landing square on it's victim. Another harsh fight ensued between the two while the rest of the pack lazily licked their short fur. 

But Ford's mind spun out of control, his fear turning to terror as he struggled to keep calm. 

***

In the dark there was silence. Not a sound as the pack slept below them. The twins couldn't. Ford's eyes were wide as he tried to spot the moon, and Stanley was still very much awake, even if it didn't show. 

A beep interrupted the quiet. Followed by another. Ford stiffened at the sound. In the dead of night soft noise sound like a blow horn, repeating its mantra and signaling the twins' end. Down below them heads raised and a soft growl began. Something caught Ford's wrist and he jerked back in fear, only to stare at Stan's wide eye. They both went to the source of the noise and saw his watch, beeping. 

Harsh barks shot into the air and the sound of claws began ripping at the bottom of the tree. 

Stanley's first words in what felt like eons choked out a plea - ,

"Get us out of here." 

Ford pressed the button and they were gone.

***

They landed, stumbling back till they hit a wall. Ford jerked his head up, eyes jumping from object to object as he took in their surroundings. Stan let out a deep breath and slid down the wall, exhaustion taking over, even as he cocked his ears for signs of danger. He heard ... 

Elevator music. 

"Hello sirs and welcome to Luxury Suite Inn. Will you be staying for the festival?" 

Ford forced himself to stand as he took in the motel lobby. Several couches stood in a circle to their left, and a small, thin man in a red bellhop suit stood behind a desk. It was a far cry from the dark forest, the walls implanted with bright lights, and a short chandelier adorning the ceiling. Without noticing, Stanley stood and swept past him. Ford caught his sleeve, but his brother kept his distance as he demanded a room. 

"And there isn't any, apocalyptic dynasty drabble going on, right? About now we just need a break." 

The man gave Stan an odd smile before turning to get their key. He stopped just as he was about to hand it over, eyes watering as his nose sniffed the air. 

"What in heaven's name is that smell?"

Stan snatched the key with a growl. 

"Hasn't exactly been our biggest priority, alright?" He turned on his heel and trudge off with Ford in tow, leaving an affronted bellhop behind. 

***

A bed. The dark quiet room. Lights from outside slipping through the blinds as people partied through the night. They seemed safe for the moment. It was a good opportunity to rest up. 

But Ford couldn't. The mattress felt too smooth, the noises from outside too easy, and Stanley's snores and long stopped once he'd fallen into a deeper sleep. 

He stared at the ceiling, his mind unable to stop going over the last dimension. Eventually he'd wear himself out, but for the moment, Ford was still wide awake. 

A few hours later, when even the local festival's participants seemed worn out and the dimension's moon was high in the sky, Ford heard a yell. 

It was a simple matter of throwing off his blankets and stepping the few feet to Stanley bed. He found his brother drenched in sweat, shivering despite the heat. He put a steadying pair of hands on his brother's shoulders, just like Stanley did for him so often. He leaned forward and their foreheads touched. Ford could feel the shudders, not from cold but fear. He sat next to him while breathing in deep, guiding his brother as Stan took in firm breaths of air with him.

Ford ruffled his hand through his brother's hair, and he could feel the tension in Stan's shoulders lessen. He sat with Stanley till he saw the level rise and fall of his chest and somehow ... Ford found himself drifting off too.