#Ford is trying to be gentle with the hug because he knows Stan is pretty beat up

[menaathena]

Directly inspired by a very good drawing @paintedcrows did of time travel AU stuff (linked here). Pain inspires pain

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Their reaction to tears (Stan & Ford)

Stan

Perhaps from the outside it seems that Stan is not a very sentimental guy. It’s wrong. Yeah, hugs make him feel nervous if they go on too long, and feelings? He’s spent most of his life avoiding those altogether. So when Stan sees you crying, his first reaction is to freeze. He’s really lost. And it’s you, so he can’t just brush it off or pretend it’ll go away. Not when you’re standing there, your shoulders shaking like that.

“Aw, kid. . .” he finally steps closer, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly feeling out of place. His eyes flicker over you, taking in your trembling hands, the hiccuping breaths.

He doesn't ask you for an explanation, he doesn't force you to pour out your soul. He knows that sometimes silence is better than any conversation, but the way he rubs slow circles into your back, the way his chin rests atop your head, you know he’s there. It's not very graceful embrace. It’s more like you’re getting wrapped up in a bear hug that’s meant to keep the rest of the world out. He squeezes you tight, maybe a little too tight, because that’s all he knows how to do. Hold on and hope it helps.

“Shh, it’s alright. I gotcha,” he mutters into your hair, though he sure as hell doesn’t know how to handle your tears, but he’s trying. “Whoever made you feel like this? I’ll knock ‘em into next Tuesday, swear to god.”

You let out a half-laugh, half-sob at that, and he pulls back just enough to glance down at you, raising an eyebrow like he’s confused by the sound. “What? You think I’m joking? I’ll even wear brass knuckles for the occasion.” his thumb brushes away a stray tear. He frowns, like maybe he’s mad at himself for not fixing it faster, for not knowing what to say to make it all go away. “C’mon, sweetie,” now his voice a little softer, “You’re tougher than this. You’ve got me. Ain’t nobody messes with you when I’m around, okay?”

“It’s. . . It’s so stupid, Stan, i don’t even know-“ you try to explain, sobbing and bursting into tears.

“Tell me, who do I gotta rough up for this? ’Cause I can call in some favors. I know a guy who knows a guy.”

You sniffle, laugh breaking through and he grins at that, just a little. He hates seeing you cry, but getting you to smile, even if it’s weak, that’s the goal.

“There we go,” he says, all smug and proud. “See? That’s better. You keep cryin’ like that and I’m gonna have to start cryin’, and trust me, you don’t wanna see that. I’m an ugly crier.”

Stan stares at you a bit longer than usual before continuing. “You know, tears aren’t your best look,” he says after a moment, his thumb brushes your cheek, wiping your tears in a way that’s more careful, gentle, than you’d expect. “You’ve got a real pretty face, baby, but it’s kinda hard to see it through all this mess.”

You laugh, even if just a little, because that’s. . . That’s just Stan. He’ll drag you out of your darkest moments, even if he has to fight the whole damn world to do it.

Ford

Ford is a man of deep thought, logic and intellect. But when he sees you break down in front of him, crying softly, trembling and sobbing, it shakes something in him that’s far beyond logic. His heart stumbles. The man who’s faced interdimensional monsters, who’s braved the edges of space and time, suddenly feels lost when he sees you like this.

At first, he doesn’t move. He’s watching you, brow furrowed, processing. Ford wants to understand, to fix, but emotions aren’t equations and you are something far more complex than anything described in his journals.

“Hey. . . hey,” he whispers, finally reaching out, his voice soft, calm, quiet. He’s cautious, careful, like he’s afraid of overwhelming you. His hand hovers for a moment before settling lightly on your arm. “What’s wrong? what happened?” Ford asks because he needs to know. He needs to dissect the situation, to piece together what’s hurting you so he can find a solution. But there’s more to it than just answers for him.

When you can’t quite form words, when your tears keep spilling, he gently pulls you closer, his hand resting on your back as he guides you to sit with him. His touch is gentle as he slowly, soothingly runs his thumb over your shoulder.

“You don’t have to talk yet,” he speaks, his breath brushing against your temple. “I’m here.” and those words, so simple, carry so much weight coming from him. Because Ford isn’t a man who offers empty promises. If he says he’s here, he means it in every sense.

And then, because Ford can’t help the way his mind works, he begins talking in that soothing voice of his. “You know,” he starts in a thoughtful tone. “tears are a natural response to emotional stress. It’s. . . it’s a sign of strength, not weakness. Your body is releasing what it can’t hold anymore.”

Ford is not trying to seem all smart and logical, it’s just how he comforts, by giving you the understanding you deserve, by showing you that it’s okay to feel everything you’re feeling, by explaining you. And when you hear him, his hand moves to gently wipe away your tears with the pad of his thumb, so careful, like he’s touching something sacred.

“Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together,” Ford promises you. “You’re not alone in this.” he kisses your forehead, slowly, letting you feel his presence. And when you’re breathing just a little steadier, Ford tilts your chin up, his eyes searching yours, and there’s nothing but warmth in his gaze. “You’re going to be alright.” he says, and somehow, you know he means it.

[portalford]

Chasing Dreams ‘til We Reach Them

AO3

Mabel crosses her arms, decides against it, and puts her hands on her hips instead.  She wants to look scolding, not mad.  “Grunkle Ford, you haven’t been sleeping.”

Ford startles a little at her voice.  “What?”

“You haven’t been sleeping!  Dipper always gets bags under his eyes when he stays up too late, just like you.”  Mabel squints suspiciously.  “Do you chew on your shirt, too?”

“What?  No, I don’t chew on my shirt.”

“That’s good.  Sweaters are super soft, but they taste awful.”  She’s only tried it twice, maybe three times, but never again.

Ford’s just kind of looking at her, half-slumped over his journal, and Mabel stops trying to joke because this is just sad.

She walks over to him and clambers up into his lap.  He pushes his chair back to make room for her and she hugs him, mindful of his injuries.  She’s still got a few bumps and bruises from Weirdmageddon, too, but hers all have sparkly bandaids.  Ford’s just got boring white bandages, but he lets Mabel draw on them sometimes, so that’s good.

“Grunkle Ford, why don’t you sleep?”

Ford sighs.  She feels him rest his chin on her hair.  “I’ve never been very good at sleeping, Mabel.  Always too much to do, too much to see, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.  Dipper’s always up reading a nerd book.”

Ford’s chuckle ruffles her hair.  “I did that quite a bit at his age myself.  Stanley used to hide my books before bed.”

That’s a really good idea, actually.  Mabel usually just whisper-shouts until Dipper gives up and pays attention to her.  “Do you stay up late reading nerd books now?”

“Sometimes, yes.”

Mabel pulls away to look at him.  “What about other times?”

“Other times, I just don’t sleep.”

“Do you have nightmares?”

He won’t look her in the eyes.  “Occasionally.”

Mabel still hasn’t figured out how Stan’s twin brother can be so bad at lying.

Ford is smiling at her now, but it doesn’t make his eyes light up the way his real smiles do, so Mabel knows it’s fake.  “I’m fine, Mabel.  I’ve just got a lot of work to catch up on.  I’ve been away thirty years, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”  Mabel gives him another hug, willing every bit of her own happiness into her uncle’s body, before sliding off his lap.  “Have fun with your science stuff, Grunkle Ford!”

Ford smiles again, and it looks a little more real this time.  “I will.”

Mabel stops in the TV room to take a deep breath.

Plan A didn’t work.  That’s okay.  She’s got plans all the way through E by herself, and she’ll get Dipper and Soos for backup and invent a whole new alphabet if that’s what it takes to get Grunkle Ford to sleep.  It’s her life mission until it gets fixed.

Plan B: Grunkle Stan.

*****

“Grunkle Stan?”

Stan looks up from the gift shop counter and smiles at her.  “Hey, kiddo.  What’s up?”

“Not much.  How’s your brain doing?”

“It’s got all the useless information it had yesterday, so I’d say it's doin’ pretty good.”

Mabel laughs.  Stan always knows how to cheer her up.  She jumps up to sit on the counter, and starts kicking her legs.  “Actually, I did have a question.”

“No, you can’t set up the sprinkler system indoors.”

“That wasn’t my question, but I will ask about that later.”  Mabel kicks her heels against the counter a couple more times, listening to the hollow thump-thump.  “Grunkle Stan, why doesn’t Grunkle Ford sleep?”

Stan’s smile disappears.  “What?”

“Grunkle Ford doesn’t sleep.  Sometimes I come downstairs for a midnight snack, and he’s always in the kitchen working or I can hear him in the basement.  And he’s always got bags under his eyes, and not the usual old-man kind.”  Mabel shrugs.  “Just… not sleeping always makes me and Dipper super cranky and sad, and I don’t want Grunkle Ford to feel like that.  I want to help.”

Stan sighs and hoists himself up on the counter next to her.  “I know you do, sweetie.  You’re a good kid.”

“I asked him about it and he just talked about other stuff.”

Stan snorts.  “Yeah, he does that.”

“Well I don’t want him to!  I want him to sleep, because he’s old and needs to sleep and be happy.”  Mabel grabs Stan’s arm and looks urgently up at him.  “Why won’t he sleep?”

Stan tugs his arm away so he can wrap it around her.  “Right, how to put this.  Y’see, kid, it’s… you know how Dipper was, after that sock puppet thing?”

Mabel does.  Dipper kept having bad dreams and pacing around and clinging to Ford’s journal like it was the only thing holding him together.  It was one of the worst weeks of Mabel’s life, and she just had the apocalypse.  “Yeah.”

“Well that was, what, a couple hours of putting up with that demon?  You saw how bad it was for him?  Ford’s been doing that for thirty years.”

Mabel’s brain breaks for a second.  Thirty years of bad dreams and pacing around and hanging on to your weird nerd books just to keep it together?  She tries to imagine having nightmares and no sleep for her whole life, then twice that, and her brain breaks again.  She stops thinking about it and hangs on to Stan’s arm instead. “Grunkle Stan, that’s so sad.”

“Yeah.”  Stan sounds sad, and really tired.  “Ford’s just got a lot to deal with, you know?  Bill’s been after him for half his life.  It’s hard to stop running when you’ve been at it a long time.  Hard to believe you’re finally safe.”

Mabel looks up at him.  “Did you ever have to run from anyone?”

Stan shrugs.  “Once or twice.”

“So what did you do?  What made you feel safe again?”

Stan shrugs again.  “Just hangin’ out, mostly.  Having time to think about it and realize that it was really over.  Also changing my name and holing up in a tourist shack in the woods, but I don’t think Ford’s gonna want to do that.”

Mabel giggles.  “He already lives in a tourist shack in the woods.”

“Not his choice, I’ll tell ya.”  Stan ruffles her hair playfully.  “You wanna hear what really makes Ford happy?”

Mabel leans closer.  “A magic science thing?  Is it dangerous?”  She gasps.  “Will we have to go on a mission to find it?”

Stan gently bops her on the head.  “You can go on as many magic science missions as you want, so long as you don’t drag me into it, but no.  What really makes Ford happy is you and your brother.”

“Really?”

“Really.  You two knuckleheads mean a lot to him.”  He rubs the back of his neck.  “To both of us, honestly.”

“Aww, Grunkle Stan.”  Mabel twists around so she can hug him properly.  “I love you too.”

“Yeah, yeah.”  Stan’s tone is dismissive, but his arm tightens around her.  “I’m guessing you won’t listen to me if I tell you to just let Ford work it out on his own?”

“No way!  I’m gonna fix this.”

“That’s what I thought.  Just think of something that makes you feel good when you’re having a bad day, and as long as it’s not loud or glittery Ford will probably love it.  Or at least tolerate it for your sake.”

Mabel scowls and pokes Stan in the side.  “Grunkle Stan, I want it to make him happy so that he’ll sleep.”

Stan pokes her back.  “I just told you — if it’s something you’re doing for him, it’ll make him happy.  Just think safe and quiet.”

“Safe and quiet…”  Mabel jumps up so fast she falls off the counter.  She pops back up immediately.  “I’m okay!”  She hugs Stan around the legs.  “Thank you, Grunkle Stan!”

She’s already halfway out the door when Stan shouts “no karaoke!” after her.  She ignores it; Stan loves family karaoke.  Ford can join in next week, too, but first:

“Dipper!”  Mabel bursts into their room, almost knocking her brother over.  “Dipper, come on!  I need your help with something.”

*****

“So what is this about again?”

“We’re having a party!”

Ford doesn’t exactly pull back, but he definitely hesitates.  “A party?”

“Well,” Mabel amends, “it’s not really a party because it’s just me and Dipper, and maybe Stan when he gets back from his thing with Soos, but we might play truth or dare and other party games, so it’s a party!”

“Ah.”  Ford does pull back when he sees the living room.  “You turned the entire room into—”

“A pillow fort?  You bet!”

Mabel’s super proud of this idea, and it only took her and Dipper the entire afternoon.  They gathered up every pillow in the whole house, then every pillow in Soos’s house, then Dipper went to ask the Multibear and came back with a golf cart full of pillows.

“He’s got one for every head,”  Dipper had said, and that was that.

Mabel tugs at Ford’s hand.  “Come on!  Actually, wait.”  She points at his boots.  “No shoes allowed in pillow forts.  It’s the rule.”

“I see.”  Ford pulls his boots off and drops them near the doorframe.  “Is that better?”

“Much.”

Mabel had thought about all the things that make her feel better when she’s sad:  Dipper, Stan, Ford, Soos, Candy Grenda, Waddles, Sweatertown, ice cream, glitter, arts and crafts, disco parties, and about a hundred other things, but most of them probably weren’t things Ford would like.  Especially disco parties.  And that was fine, because disco parties were fun, but they kept you awake and energized, which was the opposite of what Mabel was going for here.

She’d landed on a pillow fort as the perfect thing.  You sleep with pillows and blankets, and you can play fun games and eat fun snacks and spend time with your family, and those are all good things.  She just isn't going to connect this in any way to their conversation this morning, because that’ll make Ford get all weird and unhappy and this is a Good Vibes Only zone.

Ford settles crosslegged under the big blanket tent Soos helped them rig up with eye hooks on the ceiling (Stan won't mind) and looks at her intently.  “So what do we do at this party?  Besides truth or dare.”

“Well, Dipper and I usually tell stories, or play video games, or braid each other’s hair.”  Suddenly excited, “Grunkle Ford, do you know how to braid hair?”

“Well, I’ve never tried to braid hair, but I know how to braid rugs.  Also, there’s a species on Jeevar 8 that braids its fur in different ways to keep it clean and show status, and I stayed with a family with three children who taught me—”

Mabel’s already flinging her headband across the room.  “Show me!”

Ford laughs.  “All right.”

It’s a very complicated braid, but Ford is gentle and only pulls once, and that’s really Mabel’s fault for getting excited and bouncing.

“Is it easier to braid hair with six fingers?” she asks.

Ford’s hands pause momentarily.  “I suppose I can hold more strands at a time,” he replies, twisting her hair up near the back of her neck, “but you could do this with five fingers.”

“Sweet, because I want you to teach me all the braids you know.  Including the rug ones.”  

“I can do that.”  There’s the slight scrape of a pin on her scalp.  “And… that’s done,” Ford announces, just as Dipper finally makes an appearance with the snacks.  

“Dipper!  Grunkle Ford space-braided my hair!”  Mabel twirls around to show it off.  

“That’s really cool, Mabel.”  Dipper sounds genuinely impressed, but that might just be because it’s a space braid.  Mabel runs to the bathroom to check herself out in the mirror, and that is definitely a space braid.  

“It’s beautiful, Grunkle Ford!”  Mabel yells when she runs back to the TV room.  “I love it!”

Ford looks up from one of the boxes Dipper brought in.  “I’m glad it meets your approval.  What’s this?”  

Mabel flops down next to the box.  “Pictionary!  It’s like an art guessing game.  You’d be great at it.”

Eight rounds later, Mabel is sort of forced to reconsider.

“Grunkle Ford, you’re so good at this you’re bad at it.”

Ford is comparing her drawing of ‘in the doghouse’ with his of ‘third wheeling.’  “Unfortunately, I think you’re right.”

“It is kind of funny to see the Author’s drawing style in Pictionary though,”  Dipper offers.

“That’s true.”  Mabel jumps up, scattering pencils and paper.  “Hey Grunkle Ford, if I pose, can you draw me but give me a really pretty dress?”

Ford looks confused, but he’s already reaching for a pencil.  “Why?”

“So I can hang it on my wall forever.”

Ford does, in fact, draw Mabel posing in a really pretty dress.  He also draws Dipper in an outfit that may or may not resemble his own portal attire, and Dipper and Mabel together as super-rad government agents.

Mabel holds this last drawing up triumphantly.  “With the power of imagination, we can be anything we want, and with the power of Grunkle Ford’s drawing, we can make other people believe it!

“Please don’t con other people using my art.”

“We’re gonna con other people using your art.”

“No, we’re not,” Dipper says hurriedly, snatching the paper away.

They play charades and a couple different card games and consider a game of Monopoly, but Dipper is already starting to nod off, so Mabel introduces Ford to origami instead.  The paper they were using for Pictionary isn’t really origami paper, but whatever.

Ford glances at a snoring Dipper over his origami Mothman.  “Should I take him to bed?”

“What?  No.  That’s missing the whole point of a pillow party.”

“Which is?”

“Passing out in a big pile.”

Ford folds out the wings on his Mothman.  “I don’t know if I’ll be very good at that part.”

“That’s okay.  Staying up all night is always an option.”

Ford gives her a Look.  “You do need to sleep at some point.”

Mabel bites her tongue on “so do you,” because that’ll make him suspicious, if he hasn’t figured it out already.  “I know.”  She holds out her origami pig to change the subject.  “Look, I made Waddles!”

Ford smiles.  “It looks just like him.”

An hour later, Mabel is curled up under a blanket against Ford’s side, listening to portal stories.

“So she really was a princess?”

“Yes, the last of her family and hereditary ruler of her planet.  It was right out of a fairytale.”  Ford shifts a little, adding another pillow to the pile he’s propped up on.  “It was a privilege to meet her.  She was very kind, and helped me immeasurably on my journey.”

“Sounds like you saw some really cool stuff.”  Mabel’s eyes are drooping, but she’s determined not to fall asleep.  Not until Ford does.

“I did.”  A pause.  “There was a lot that… wasn’t good, in the multiverse.  There was a lot that was good.  I had my fair share of both.”

“M’glad you’re back home now,”  Mabel mumbles.  Ford is warm and his sweater is soft and it’s really hard to think of things to say.  “Getting to meet you was one of th’ best parts of this summer."

There’s a long silence, then Mabel feels Ford’s hand run over her braided hair.  “I’ll go one better and say that meeting you and Dipper was one of the best parts of the last thirty years.”

“You win.”  Her eyes are shut now, but she hears Ford laugh softly.

“I think we both did.”

*****

Mabel wakes up slowly.  She’s warm and comfortable and last night was wonderful, and—

last night.

Ford.

Mabel is awake in an instant.  She messed up; she wasn’t supposed to sleep until she figured out something that would help Ford sleep and they have to go home in a few days and—

her common sense catches up to the rest of her brain and tells her to chill, and also to look around.

She does, and sees the pillow fort is more or less intact.  Dipper is still asleep with his face mashed against the Pictionary box, and he’s gonna have a heck of a red mark when he wakes up.

Ford is—

Ford is behind her, and fast asleep.

Mabel rubs her eyes to make sure she’s not dreaming, then rubs them again, even harder.  They start watering and she has to rub them a third time to clear them, but she’s definitely awake.

She’s awake, and Ford’s not.

He slipped off his pile of pillows at some point during the night, and now he’s curled up on his side.  Curled up around her, actually, which explains why she’s so warm and comfy.  

Ford slept last night, at least for a little while.  Mabel kind of wants to give a victory whoop, but she’d have to go out into the woods to avoid waking him up and she can’t be bothered to move right now.

Heavy footsteps cross the carpet, and Stan’s head pokes around the corner of the blanket.

His eyebrows shoot up when he sees Ford.  He glances at his watch, then back at Ford, and then at Mabel.  She beams proudly at him.

“You did it, kid,” he whispers.  “Remodeled the TV room, but you did it.”

“I sure did,” she whispers back.  “Power of Mabel!”  She wiggles one arm out of her blanket and points at the stairs.  “Can you get the camera?  I want a picture for my scrapbook.”

Stan winks and slips away.  Mabel carefully settles back against Ford, thinking up and discarding photo poses.  In the end, when Stan returns with the camera, she just decides to lay her head on Ford’s shoulder and smile.

“I want a copy of this picture,” Stan says, pointing at the camera.  “Photographic proof that Stanford Pines does, in fact, sleep.”

“You got it.”

“Whassat?”  Dipper blearily raises his head.  Sure enough, he’s got a big red mark on his cheek.  

Stan immediately takes another picture.

Dipper groans and rubs his eyes.  “Ow, ow, Grunkle Stan it’s—” a brief pause while Dipper realizes that he has no idea what time it is— “too early for this.”

“It’s eight o’ clock, kid, so I agree, but three out of four are already awake.”

“Three out of—”  Dipper turns.  “Oh, hey Mabel.  Is Grunkle Ford still sleeping?”

“Yeah.  He must have been really tired.”

“Idiot’s been up all week.  And injured, too,” Stan grumbles, but his expression is fond when he looks at Ford.  “Good on you for getting him to sleep, kids.”

“Thanks, Grunkle Stan.”  Mabel glances down at Ford, suddenly anxious.  “What are you gonna do when we leave?  Is he going to stop sleeping again?”

“I’ll make him a pillow fort every d—dang night if that’s what it takes to get him to sleep.”  Stan’s voice is dead serious, and it makes Mabel feel better.

“Okay.”  She leans against Ford again, determined to stay until he wakes up on his own.  “I don’t think you’ll have to, though.  I think he’ll be okay.”

Stan smiles at her, a kind of contented she doesn’t usually see from him. 

“I think we all will, pumpkin.

Mabel smiles back.  She thinks they will, too.

[themysteriousauthor18]

                            4 years.....that's how much time had passed since that day. The day when Dipper thought he would die, and the day when Mable thought she'd lose her brother...but it was also the day they Dipper realized that nothing was impossible, that everything and anything was very possible. Although he didn't know it yet....in that large realm of possibility also lay the chance of falling for an interdimensional being.

Dipper glanced out the window of the bus he seated himself in as he drove past a forest of trees. The summer sun was beating down on everything outside but the bus was no better as he was practically boiling inside. Yes this was yet another summer where he'd go and visit his favorite uncles and that beloved mystery shack, but not without the company of his twin.

They had visited each and every summer since that day and his parents hadn't seemed to have a problem with it. His uncles got to watch each year when he and Mable returned and how they both seemed to grow out of their childish selves. Neither of them had changed much since the day they turned 13 aside from their features.

Dipper was still a geek who loved exploring a world of science and Mable was still obsessing over boy bands and anything else a teenage girl could love. Dipper chuckled to himself, remembering the summer where his voice finally started cracking as a sign of him maturing. Oh how he loathed the way everyone in that house made fun of him...but that was 2 years ago and thankfully the cracking stopped. His voice was a bit lower now, not too far but just a small bit to notice the change without changing his voice entirely.

He glanced at his reflection in the mirror, annoyed that he still couldn't grow any facial hair. He still had that favorite hat of his, the hunting one Wendy had given him. Although it had become rather worn and torn over the years so it just rested in his duffle bag for the time being. It was safe to say his little crush on her had long passed ever since he discovered his interest in the same gender. Even now he found himself still questioning it but he wouldn't think about that right now.

He came to get away from all that and see his uncles again.

The bus finally pulled to a stop and before Dipper to sit up from his slouched position against the window a pair of arms grabbed him from the seat behind him. "Where here!" The cheerful voice shouted practically in his ear.

"Ouch-Mable don't make me go deaf." The girl, now nearly a woman, just laughed nervously.

"Sorry," She said although she didn't really sound it. She scooted out from the seat behind Dippers and grabbed the now fully grown pig in her arms. He had a cute little red bow tie around his neck for a caller and Mable adored him still to no end.

Dipper smirked at the sight as he slid out of the seat that was rather hot due to the sun's rays leaking in through the windows. "Thank you," Dipper said to the bus driver as he and Mable got off.

Once his sneakers hit the soft grass he took in a deep breath, not minding the sound of the bus pulling away behind him. He took it in, everything...the echoes of nature in the distance, the hot sun looming above them.

Having just finished highschool this summer was special...but that wasn't the only reason it was special. It was also special because...well, the pine twins would be turning 18 soon. Dipper hadn't wanted to spend it any other way than here.

"Uncle Stan!" Mable called ahead of Dipper already making her way into the shack. Dipper slowly trailed behind carrying the duffle bag over his shoulder while the other just rested in the pockets of his pants. When he walked in Mable was already beaming with striking up a conversation with Soos, he didn't change much..he was older and you could tell by his features but other than that, he was the same Soos they'd seen all those years ago.

The suit was nice if that was anything noteworthy. "Hey Soos," Dipper greeted with a gentle smile. The hefty man looked to Dipper pausing in his lively conversation with Mable about some sort of boyband she was into now.

"Dipper! My man, you keep growing." Soos said ecstatic, reaching his arms out for a hug. Dipper laughed stepping forward and wrapping his free arm around Soos. He placed down the duffle bag for a second as he leaned on the side of the greeting desk, Mable at his side.



Soos eyed the two twins, "Man you two really grew. I remember when you guys where just short little things." The man joked,

"The only one who was short was Dipper." Mable lightly teased, The male brunette rolled his eyes.

"H-hey! That was a long time ago, and I'm taller than you now." Soos and Mable laughed at the boy's frustration.

"Go upstairs and get settled in, then we can talk." Soos said as he walked past the pair into another room to fetch something. Their uncles were out right now, something about hunting according to Mable so it was just them and Soos here right now. The shack was closed until tomorrow, a way for Soos to get everything ready before people started coming in.

Taking Sooses advice Mable and Dipper made their way up to what was pretty much their rooms by now. The room itself hadn't changed much, aside from the clutter that littered it but even that was nowhere to be seen as it was most likely cleaned up while they were away for all those months.

Ford and Stan had offered multiple times to move them to a seperate room but they always declined enjoying this room. Dipper loved the view it held too and the memories too. As they entered the room Dipper spared a glance to that triangle window looming over their beds...oh how it reminded him of Bill.

To say he didn't have nightmares about him would be a lie, and to say he wasn't fascinated by his -was Bill even a him?- existence would be a lie as well. It was one of those dirty pleasure types of situations where it sounded crazy to anyone else but to yourself it was fine. Truth be told, if Bill wasn't such a crazy being and didn't try to kill him and his entire family then Dipper would have asked him tons of questions about things his feeble human mind couldn't even begin to comprehend.

"Dipper!" The call of his name by his sister brought him from thoughts. He looked at her now as she unpacked her things. "Did you hear what I said?" Dipper blinked a few times if just to reinstate himself into reality.

Right...Bill was gone, he had to remember that.

"Sorry Mable, I spaced out for a minute." The girl rolled her eyes as Dipper walked over to his side of the room beginning to unpack, he chuckled when he saw his many papers of chicken scratch that lined his side of the room hadn't been removed. He would have sworn Stan would have just gotten annoyed with it by now and taken them down..something told him Stanford had a part in them remaining there.

"I said do you wanna go around town after this and see what everyone's been up to?" Having heard the question this time Dipper only hummed in response.

Dipper was beginning to finish unpacking his stuff, "I'll meet you downstairs." Mable announced, a nod from the other twin and she was gone.

Dipper sighed, he'd only unpacked his clothes but that would be fine for now. He folded his arms as he felt his gaze wander back to the triangular window..the sunlight peeked through it.

He wasn't sure what it was, but something about this visit....well it felt different. He just couldn't put his finger on it...it was a........a gut feeling. He couldn't recall the last time he had a gut feeling like this.

This summer vacation would surely be interesting.

[duckfalls]

Duck Falls Au

Chapter 1: Into the rift!

Story written by @selwolf concept from @jasminechibipup

Dipper and Mabel were hiding. They looked around for the one after them. Hiding back against a thick tree.

"I don't see her.. How about you Dipping sauce?" Mabel asked her brother.

Peeking around the other side of the tree he shook his head.

"Nope. We must have lost her!" Dipper told his twin with a grin.

"Yes!" Mabel squealed, "We're gonna win!"

Dipper rolled his eyes, "Not if you keep yelling Mabs.."

"Oh.. right."  She giggled putting her hands over her mouth.

As they both talked something climbs out of the tree quietly behind them. A smile coming to its face as it crouched behind the twins. Slowly bowing its head to their ears.

"Oh indeed… Mabel.. Dipper.."  the figure chuckled right behind them.

Dipper and Mabel let out loud screams turning to the person, they were loud enough to send birds around them into flight.

Meanwhile at the Mystery Shack.

A black haired woman was teaching an online lecture of forensic science. Ford standing beside her as he helped her with her online lecture. Both blinking when they hear the screams. The woman then snorts some and is soon overcome with laughter.

"Well looks like they were found." The woman laughed and looked to an exasperated Ford.

"Yes it seems so.. though when she finds them why is it this happens?" Ford sighed pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Well.. you did teach Rhadaz the art of sneaking up on people." The woman smirked back at him. 

Said woman turned to him fully and takes his hand gently causing him to look to her blushing.

"Why don't you go out and check to make sure she hasn't given the twins a heart attack? I'll be fine with the lesson from here." She said looking up to Ford.

Ford looked into her eyes and smiled leaning down to lightly kiss the hand holding his.

"Of course Hamiko. Though I promise nothing if more yelling is heard." Ford chuckled softly before turning to leave.

"Try to be gentle Ford they all are only kids." She called out after him.

She loved her makeshift family. She really did. The kids having grown dearly on her, after her adoption of Mabel and Dipper, after the accident that took the lives of their birth parents when they were two. Sure she had had her own problems. Being a single mother, trying to get a good job with her best friend at her side. But when she had started her first big job ever at the orphanage. They had become hers. Plus her daughter had taken to them like they were her birth siblings. How could she not take them in.

Plus afterwards she learned they still had one relative one by the assumed name of "Stanford Pines". Though it soon came out he wasn't Stanford but suppose to be dead twin Stanley. It took sometime. But they all soon fell into a routine. But one day.. Ford had come back. Sure he had been a dark brooding man. But he was good with the kids especially the timid and shy Dipper. But not only had he won the twins over. He had won her daughter's heart too. 

Her daughter had been cold towards men. Even Stan was given the cold shoulder for a year before she finally warmed up to him seeing him care for the kids. But Ford had managed it in just a couple weeks. She had found out while she was getting ready to make breakfast when Hamiko had walked into the living room and did a double take seeing the teen sleeping soundly leaning against Ford's shoulder lightly hugging his arm as Ford seemed to have stayed up all night reading.

The dark haired woman sighed a smile gracing her face at the memories and softly shakes her head, "What am I going to do with them all?" 

Chuckling the woman turned back to her computer and continued on with her lecture. Purposely ignoring the class chat about her moment with Ford, and the worried questions about the screams. She would let them draw their own conclusions. It added spice to the class at least. The thought made her smirk with mischief and chuckle some.

Meanwhile Stan was giving a tour while everything was happening. The screams from the kids had startled the customers. He made a big buck off that claiming it was the ghost of some dead kids never seen again in the woods.

"Come back soon! We might even have some ghost kids to show off!" Stan yelled as people looked around fearful and got to their respective cars quickly.

"Ha! If I knew that would make them throw their wallets at me I would have set something like this up sooner!" Stan cheered as he counted all the money he made.

"Stan you better be joking." Another woman came out from the back room wearing a Mystery Shack employee uniform but a puma tail flicking irritatedly behind her, her green cat-like eyes narrowed at him.

"Oh c'mon Fejeus! Did you see their faces! That was priceless..!" Stan laughed loudly.

"Stan that was the kids! What if something actually happened to them!?" The puma tailed woman groaned face palming.

"I'm sure their fine Fej. Rhadaz went out there with them! She wouldn't let anything happen to her 'siblings'." Stan huffed with a light eye roll.

Fejeus narrowed her eyes at him before taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly. Rubbing her head and looks to him again.

"Then you wouldn't mind going to check on them right? I'm busy reorganizing the stock room you've been neglecting for.. oh.. 30 flipping years!" Fejeus hissed at him.

As much as she loved Stan, she was still irritated with his hoarding like tendency with the back rooms with both fake crap, and his knockoff nicknacks. 

Not only that but the young twins were like her kids in some way. When her best friend had come to her a decade ago asking for her help to adopt the young twins she had sadly denied her friend. But after meeting them despite their young age she felt the pull to them. Like they needed her just as much as Hamiko. 

To say she was protective was a bit of an understatement. She knew she was super protective over them and Rhadaz. Stan knew it too. From the way he sighed nodding even confirming it.

"Alright! Alright! I'll go! I'll go..!" He sighed, putting the money away and stands up cracking his back some.

"You know you worry to much Fej.." He sighed again. 

"Yeah.. I know.. but it would just bring me some peace of mind knowing it's just them messing around babe.." Fejeus sighed before hugging Stan who hugged her back tightly.

"I get it babe.. Don't worry I'll be back with the kids in no time!" Stan grinned and kissed Fejeus softly.

Fejeus kissed him back and purred slightly into it.

"Your distracting me.. go and get the kids you goof." She chuckled as she turned and walked away back into the back.

Stan sighed and chuckled softly before heading out and blinks seeing Ford walking to the front door as well.

"So Hami got worried about the squirts too?" He chuckled seeing Ford's face.

"Yes.. it seems I might have taught Rhadaz a bit too much or rather well about being stealthy.." Ford sighed, going outside.

Stan started laughing loudly, "Oh this is priceless! They got scared.. because of Rhadaz sneaking up on them?? Rhadaz the quiet lil dormouse? Miss couldn't hurt a fly?" Stan started laughing more. 

"C'mon bro. You know that she wouldn't do anything to even spook a fly." Stan grinned at Ford, who in turn glared at his brother. This caused Stan to just blink and look to him.

"Geez it was just a joke. I didn't mean it like that. Rhadaz is just the type of kid to kinda just sit back. Thinking she could sneak up on the twins IS funny though." Stan amended.

Ford sighed some and looks up as they walk deeper into the woods.

"That's why I teach her Stan. So she can handle any situation.. She is special to me just like Dipper and Mabel. Plus she asked. I couldn't say no to her after that." Ford explained.

"Yeah yeah… I get it Poindexter." Stan smirked to Ford some gently elbowing his side. To which Ford lightly shoved his brother before laughing and running some ahead.

" Oh now your gonna get it Sixer!" He laughed running after his brother.

Back with the twins.

Mabel was clutching her heart gasping for air, her twin mirroring her. Though they heard laughing and both look to the nineteen year old on the ground laughing hard.

"Oh man you guys should have seen your faces!" The teen cried out between her laughing fits.

Dipper looking to her glared half heartedly speaking up, "Sis really? That was not cool!" 

Mabel nodding her agreeance before looking to the girl.

"Rhadaz how did you even find us!? We were like ninjas when we were hiding!" Mabel cries out.

Rhadaz sits back up snickering and grins looking back to them.

"You both were pretty loud guys it wasn't hard to climb the tree and spook you from behind. Better pay better attention to your surroundings." The older girl advised.

She then stood up stretching and yawning, "Anyway we should head on back. Mom and the others might not have liked those screams you belted out. They may send out a search party after that."

"They wouldn't have to be worried if you hadn't scared us half to death!" Dipper huffed and frowned.

Rhadaz rolled her eyes and smiled a bit moving her hair out of her right eye. Then looks to Mabel and smirks.

Grinning Mabel got close to Dipper. Then yelled glomping him to the forest floor. 

"Tickles!" She yelled tickling Dipper's sides.

"Ah! Haha! N-noha! Mabel! Haha!" Dipper laughed as he and Mabel rolled around on the ground.

Rhadaz laughed some watching them goof around but blinked seeing a small light. Frowning she looked more to it her eyes widening. A rift was starting to open up.

"Mabel! Dipper! We have to head home now!" She said firmly getting the two kids attention.

"Huh?" They managed in unison before a loud rip sound was heard.

Gasping the twins felt like they were being pulled back. Looking back to where the sound occurred their eyes grew wide in fear.

Rhadaz quickly grabbed Mabel's hand yelling, "Mabel grab Dipper now!?"

The young girl with her free hand grabbed Dipper's hand, soon after the pull and wind picked up greatly from the rift as it finally gave way into its full force. Pulling in anything it could.

'Dad didn't say anything about this possibly happening again!' Rhadaz thought frantically keeping a strong hold on the tree she clung to trying to pull both twins to her.

Then it happened her eyes and head snapped up and looking back hearing Dipper's scream of terror. Turning just to see his hand slip from Mabel's and him fly right into the rift.

"NO!!" Both girls screamed in dismay.

Rhadaz shaking looking back and Mabel crying for Dipper as he reaches out for them screaming as he goes through.

Mabel crying looks back to Rhadaz. Rhadaz eyes widening and cries out as Mabel rips her hand out of Rhadaz's and flies back into the portal too.

"I'm coming bro-bro!!" Mabel yelled as she went through the rift.

Rhadaz screamed again. Her heart shattering. No.. no this isn't happening. She felt her world shaking. 

They were gone.. both her younger siblings. Gone. Tears blinding her as she looked back at the rift as a scream of her own came out louder than before. She failed her siblings the ones she was supposed to protect had just been sent to some other dimension! Possibly one filled with man-eating monsters. 

She heard yelling. She turned to the sound seeing both Stan and Ford running forward. Faces full of terror. Had they seen her mistake? Did they see her fail to save her brother and sister. She turned back to the rift. It was starting to close. Now it was just a matter of choice.

Looking back she saw Ford's eyes widening seeing her face. Seeing her make her choice. And then.. she let go.

She let go and actually started running towards the rift full force. She may have failed to protect her younger siblings from this rift. But she would be damned if she wouldn't follow them and protect them wherever they may have ended up.

Ford and Stan's instincts had taken over when they heard the next two rounds of screams. They had started running faster than most would think men in the late 50's to 60's would when they heard the familiar sound of a rift opening. Just like it had taken Mabel the one time the previous year after Weirdmagedon. But they knew that of all the kids were there there would be a bigger problem.

Getting there and seeing Dipper be the first victim of the rift hit both Stan and Ford in the gut hard. Seeing Mabel throw herself into it after her brother they felt their hearts shattering. But seeing Rhadaz look to them with a look of pure determination and pain. To see her turn and run to the closing rift last second. They both screamed out in agony getting there too late.

Huffing and puffing Stan fell to his knees where the portal had been. Ford frozen into a statue like state.

They were gone.. all three of them.. 

"Ford… Ford what the hell are we gonna do..?" Stan croaked out.

Ford still standing there in shock blinks and looks back to Stan. Then to were the rift was and anger burned through him. And he turned starting to walk the long trek back to the shack. Knowing both Hamiko and Fejeus would be angry and heartbroken too. But he knew what he was going to do. He was going to bring back the portal project. He was going to find them. And bring them all home safely.

"We're going to find them Stanley." Ford said his voice broken, tears falling.

"We're going to find them no matter what or when the dimensions. We're going to find them. And we're going to bring them home." Ford said.

'That's a promise. I will not let them see and deal what I had to for 30 years in that hell.' Ford thought to himself as he walked.

Stan got up and looked back to where the rift had been and looked away a few tears falling before he wiped them away and turned following his brother. 

It could take a while. But they were determined to find the kids. No matter what. They would die trying to find them if that's what it would take. And that was the silent promise both elder twins made.

"We will find them" Both Stan and Ford said with firm voices as they headed back to the Shack with heavy lead feeling hearts.

[radioactivedelorean]

Dēbĭlĭto #6

<<First | <<Previous | Next>> AO3 Brain Trauma AU Masterpost

Dēbĭlĭto - to weaken, to disable, to incapacitate, to impair, to maim, to lame, to cripple, to paralyse

Chapter 6: The Root of It All

“Look, Dipper, I already told ya. I ain’t telling you what’s wrong with Ford. I don’t entirely know myself, and I know he wouldn’t want ya worryin’ about him.” Stan rubbed a hand over his face as he sat in front of the laptop screen at the table. It was maybe eight in the evening where the kids were, judging by the quality of the light in the room beyond their concerned faces. “But Grunkle Stan!” Mabel whined for the fourth time since the start of their call. “We want to know what’s wrong with him so we can help him!” “Yeah, Grunkle Stan,” Dipper added. “We want to help work out what’s wrong with him, okay?”

Stan sighed. “Yeah, I know kids, but… Ford doesn’t want ya to know, so I don’t either, okay?” “But we wanna help you guys!” Dipper whined. “Come on! We can do loads of research on his symptoms and maybe we can come up with answers!” 

Stan sighed quietly again, averting his gaze from the monitor. He knew the kids were frustrated with him for being so cagey about the specifics of Ford’s condition, but he was doing it for his twin’s sake. Ford didn’t want the kids knowing what was wrong with him. He didn’t want them knowing that he couldn’t say his own name any more, or that he couldn’t eat properly, and he certainly didn’t want them knowing that Stan had to help him bathe, use the bathroom or get himself dressed. It was embarrassing and, while it was making the kids agitated and anxious not knowing what was wrong with him, Ford couldn’t bring himself to want the kids to know.

“I know you can help, Dipper, but I already told ya that Ford doesn’t want you guys knowin’ what’s wrong with him.” “Then take the computer over to him and let us persuade him!” Dipper insisted. “Let us talk to him and see if we can get him to let you tell us what’s going on!” Stan took a deep breath, already uncomfortable with the idea. “He’s resting at the moment, but lemme see if he’s up for seeing you guys.” The younger twins nodded and Stan rose from his chair, heading across to the bedroom door. He knocked to let Ford know he was there before going inside. “Poindexter?” Ford blinked wearily from his bed. He was cocooned up in blankets, his sleepy eyes squinting in the darkness as he tried to make out his brother’s face. Stan flicked the light on before going and taking a seat beside him on Ford’s bed. “Need anything bud?” Ford rolled his head slowly to the right, gazing just beyond Stan at the hallway beyond. Stan followed his gaze. “Bathroom?” Ford blushed a little bit and nodded. His speech had deteriorated so much that he couldn’t make any more than a few gurgling sounds, so he had simply given up trying to say anything. That had been a severe blow to his pride; before, he’d been able to tell Stan what he needed and converse with his brother with relative ease. Now, however, he simply had to point with his eyes in certain directions, his hands now also almost entirely too weak to use.

Stan got up, pulling the blankets back from his brother’s form. He lifted Ford bridal-style up into his arms before carrying him towards the door. He froze just before passing the threshold into the hallway. “The kids are still on the video chat. You want me to just turn the laptop around so they can’t see?” Ford blushed even more and nodded. Stan set him down momentarily as he returned to the laptop. Mabel’s eyes lit up at his return. “Grunkle Stan! Did Grunkle Ford say we could see him?!” “Er, no, not just yet. Look, I gotta help the nerd with something real quick, and he wants me to turn the laptop around because he doesn’t want you to see, okay?” Both kids pouted at that. “Oh, what is it?” “I ain’t tellin’,” Stan said, turning the laptop around so that the screen was facing the opposite direction. “I’m just gonna mute the microphone too, so you can’t hear us, okay?” Both kids mumbled a reluctant agreement as Stan muted the microphone. There was a wait of about five minutes before the laptop screen was turned around again, revealing a rather worn out looking Stan. He let out a sigh as he dropped into the chair again. “Ford says he doesn’t feel up to talking to you guys, sorry.” “What? Why?” Mabel pouted. “Doesn’t he want to see us?” “I think part of him does want to see you, but another part of him doesn’t want you kids knowing what’s wrong,” Stan said softly. “I’m sorry, kids, but I’m not gonna force him to see you if he’s not up for it.” “It’s okay, Grunkle Stan,” Dipper replied with a sad smile. “We understand. Look, we’ll call you again soon, okay? Let us know if anything happens with Great Uncle Ford?” “Sure thing, kid. That I can do.” Stan grinned. “See you troublemakers soon, alright?” “Bye Grunkle Stan!” The screen was engulfed in a close-up of Mabel’s sweater as she attempted to send a hug through their wireless connection straight to Stan. The old man couldn’t help but laugh at that. The screen soon went black. The moment it had done so, Stan let out a deep sigh and closed the laptop down, scrubbing a hand over his face. He had dark circles under his eyes, a result of a lack of sleep as of late. He’d been making sure to wake up every couple of hours each night to make sure that Ford was dealt with if he needed anything. Ford was usually fast asleep, but on a few occasions, he had needed Stan’s help for one reason or another. Stan didn’t mind helping his brother at all, and he’d much rather lose sleep than leave Ford in need of anything while unable to wake Stan and ask for help.

Stan would never blame Ford for any of this. He knew that it wasn’t his brother’s fault that any of this was happening. He knew that there was nothing Ford could do about it, and therefore felt it impossible to blame Ford for anything. He could tell, however, that Ford blamed himself, and believed that Stan blamed him too. It was clear from what little body language Ford could convey by this point that he felt guilty about the entire situation, regardless of how many times Stan assured him otherwise.

Letting out a deep sigh, Stan rose from his chair and went to check up on his brother. Ford was staring up at the ceiling when Stan entered their small bedroom, but his eyes flickered towards his twin when he heard Stan’s footsteps. “Hey, buddy, how are ya doing?” Stan asked softly, sitting down at the edge of his brother’s bed.

Ford merely hummed in response to his brother’s question, but even that simple noise sounded strained and weak. Clearly, he was devastated by this, his gaze dropping to his lap.

“It’s alright, Ford.” Stan gave his brother’s hand a light squeeze, silently noticing how cold and limp Ford’s hand was. “I’m just gonna grab that chart we made, okay? In case you need anything.” Ford lifted his chin up weakly, the most he could manage for a nod, and Stan left the room, returning with a chart drawn onto a small whiteboard. On it was a simple two by six grid, displaying a list of needs for Ford and an action and/or sound that indicated that he was in need of anything in particular. Stan held the board up for his brother to read. Ford scanned his eyes over the board, before nodding twice and then turning his head to the left.

Stan examined the board, finding that the actions translated to “I need a drink” and “I’d like a shower” respectively. Setting the board down, Stan pulled back the covers of the bed and gently lifted Ford into his arms, letting his brother’s body slump against his own. Ford was past the point of making any kind of protest against being carried, as he knew he had no choice. Still, it made him no less embarrassed when his brother stripped him down and started to wash him. Once Ford was nice and clean, Stan got his brother a drink of water before getting him comfortable in bed once again. The expression on Ford’s face was upsetting. Ford’s eyes were downcast, his mouth set in a gentle frown. Stan could tell that his brother was feeling pretty hopeless about the whole ordeal. “Hey, Ford, look at me.” Ford’s eyes flickered up to make contact with his brother’s. He managed to turn his head a little but said nothing. Stan sat at the edge of Ford’s bed, taking Ford’s hand into his own and giving it a gentle squeeze. The younger twin could tell by the frustration on his face that he was attempting to return the gesture. Stan stroked his thumb over the back of Ford’s hand. “It’s okay, bud.” Ford made a soft whining sound, his body slumping further into the bed. Clearly, he wasn’t in agreeance with his brother’s optimism. Stan sighed again and squeezed his twin’s hand. “I mean it, Ford. It won’t take much longer for us to reach the hospital, and as soon as we’re there, we can get you treated for whatever is happening, okay?” The elder twin managed a weak nod before his eyes flickered up to meet Stan’s gaze. Stan gave him a reassuring smile, lifting his hand to gently ruffle the hair drooping over Ford’s eyes. Ford scrunched his nose up in distaste, earning him a chuckle from his brother.

“I know you’re still in there, Ford, and we’re gonna find a way to get you back again, okay?” Stan brushed the hair out of his brother’s face and stood up. “Need anything else before I go? I gotta tidy up the kitchen.” Ford shook his head. Stan nodded and gave his twin a final hug, before heading out of the bedroom into the kitchen area. As soon as his brother was out of sight, Ford let loose the tears he’d been struggling to hold back. A mere whimper escaped him as he lay there. By this point, he was too weak to manage anything else. He could imagine how pathetic he must look, and despite his brother reassuring him time and time again, he couldn’t help but hear a small voice in his head telling him that Stan was going to dump him in a nursing home as soon as they got to shore.

He’s your twin, you idiot. He worked for thirty years to bring you home. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t care about you, so why would he throw you away now?

You’re a burden to him, the voice replied. You’ve heard him complain about his back before and heard how he whines about how old he is. Having to drag you around the boat is too much work for him, and it really isn’t fair to Stanley that you can’t do anything by yourself, is it? What use are all those PhDs now, huh? Ford shuddered a little. He recognised the tone of the voice in his head to be that of Bi - him, and it was making his stomach churn. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and turned his head to the side, trying to will away the horrible laughter echoing throughout his mind. The lack of visual input only amplified the laughter until Ford could have sworn Bill was in the room with him at that moment. He forced himself to open his eyes and look around the room, proving to himself that he was alone. As expected, all he was met with were the photos hanging on the walls, the chest of drawers and Stan’s bed on the other side of the room. He was alone.

A tiny sigh of relief slipped past Ford’s lips. He was alone. Bill was gone. He was dead, and he was never going to come back. He’d made sure of that himself. Even if it had cost his twin all of his memories. Ford sighed again, this time in guilt. The feeling of blame continued to linger despite how many times Stan had told him that he was okay, or how many times he’d proven that his memory was definitely fully recovered. He’d wiped his brother’s memory away, and that was unforgivable, regardless of the reason behind it.

Between battling with the voice in his head and arguing with his own guilt, Ford managed to drift off into a somewhat fitful sleep. Images of his past with Bill, his time through the portal and what his brother must have gone through in his absence were all popular choices by his subconscious once more. He ended up being jolted awake after a mere two hours, with his brother standing over him, a worried expression on Stan’s face. “Ford, you okay buddy?” Stan asked softly, kneeling down beside the bed so that he was eye-level with his brother, and so that he didn’t seem so intimidating. “Did you have a bad dream?” Ford whimpered and nodded, feeling even more like a helpless child than he had before. He barely tried to prevent himself trembling in fear as he was enveloped in a hug by his brother. Over the reassuring whispers in his ear, the older twin heard laughter and jeering from the demon that had previously plagued his dreams. It seemed that the more Ford’s condition deteriorated, the more he heard Bill, and the worse he felt mentally. It was a vicious circle, one that Ford hoped he could break free from once they reached the hospital.

Stan seemed to read his mind, as in the next moment he murmured, “We’re not far from the shore, now, Ford. We should arrive by tomorrow lunchtime, okay?”

Ford sniffled a little bit and nodded, his head resting comfortably in the crook of his brother’s neck. He wished, at that moment, that he was able to hug his brother in return, as he knew he would have gripped Stanley tight and never let go.

------

“Alright, kids, I need your help.” Stan forced himself to keep his voice down as he spoke with the twins that evening. “There’s something Ford isn’t telling me and with him in the state he’s in right now, I can’t exactly talk it out of him.”

“So what do you need us to do?” Dipper asked, Ford’s third journal open in his lap. After all the chaos of Weirdmageddon had been put right, the three journals had been found in the town square in the precise spot where Bill had destroyed them.

“Isn’t there some way of getting into Ford’s mind while he sleeps or something?” Stan queried. “Didn’t you guys chase Bill out of my mind back before everything went to shi- crud.”

Dipper barely responded to the almost-swear, rifling through the journal until he came across the page he was looking for. “Yep! Found it! All you have to do is to read out this incantation while putting your hand on the subject’s forehead.” He held the journal page up to the camera for Stan to see.

Grabbing a pen and a piece of paper, Stan scribbled down the incantation and what to do while saying it. “And this just sends you straight into the person’s mind?” “Yeah. When Mabel, Soos and I entered your mind, we were right outside the Shack, so I guess Uncle Ford’s mindscape is gonna look like some place that’s significant to him.” “Right, so that could be anywhere,” Stan sighed. “He spent so long away from home that he probably hardly considers it to be home anymore.”

“He did live in the Shack for ages, though,” Mabel pointed out. “Oh! Or maybe he thinks New Jersey is really important! Or his old college dorm!”

“Yeah but the Shack was where Bi - where you know who first popped up, so he might associate the Shack with him rather than anything positive,” Stan sighed, scratching the top of his head. “I suppose I’ll just have to go for it and cross that bridge when I get to it.” “So you know what to do, right?” Dipper asked, shutting the journal and setting it aside.

“Yeah. Stick a hand on Ford’s head while he’s asleep, say that incantation and I should end up in the nerd’s mindscape.” “That’s right. Good luck Grunkle Stan. Call us tomorrow and tell us if it worked, okay?”

“Will do kiddos, night.” “Night Grunkle Stan!” Mabel chirped and waved before she ended the call and the screen went blank. Taking a deep breath, Stan shut down the laptop and ran a hand over his face. He glanced again at the incantation scribbled down on the piece of paper beside him. If this worked, then he would potentially be faced with the memories of every horrible thing his brother had ever experienced, including everything that Bill had put him through. He’d see his brother’s insomnia, nightmares, hallucinations, the bleeding eyes, everything. It felt … wrong, invading his brother’s privacy like that. What if there was something locked deep in Ford’s mind that he didn’t want to remember, let alone want his brother poking at? What if Ford himself had done something terrible, committed some atrocious crime, and had suppressed the memory deep inside his subconscious?

However, if this worked, Stan would be able to find out the root of his brother’s current medical problem and hopefully give some insight into how to undo what was happening. Finding out how to fix his brother was far more important than any secret Ford could be hiding, and Stan was more than prepared to take the risk of unearthing any horrors that might lie in his twin’s mind if it meant Ford could get better. Stan knew that Ford would much rather have his condition treated than keep his memories locked away forever.

With a determined nod, Stan rose from the table and took the piece of paper with him, heading into the bedroom. Ford was still out cold in bed, a lock of hair lying over his eyes that Stan doubted Ford had the strength to brush aside. Stan brushed it aside for him before sitting at the edge of his twin’s bed. He glanced down at the piece of paper in his hand, reading through the incantation in his head to try and correct himself on some of the pronunciations before he read the words aloud. When he felt that he was ready, he placed a hand on his twin’s forehead and read aloud.

“Videntis Omnium Magister Mentium Magnesium Ad Hominem Magnum Opus Habeus Corpus Inceptus Nolanus Overratus Magister Mentium Magister Mentium Magister Mentium!”

Stan felt his eyes almost forcedly roll back in his skull as the whole room seemed to be engulfed in a pale blue glow. He collapsed onto his brother’s bed beside Ford. The strangest sensation enveloped him: it felt as though his brain was being sucked out of his skull through a straw. He wasn’t able to grasp much else before everything around him swirled and morphed into an inky blackness.

When Stan next opened his eyes, he found himself lying on the ground outside a dusty, dilapidated old store. It was only after he’d forced himself to sit up and clear the dirt from his eyes that he realised which store in particular it was. He chuckled. The words “PINES PAWNS” was plastered at the top of the front of the store, though the paint had faded and cracked over time until it was hardly legible. One of the windows at the front of the store had clearly been smashed at some point, though it was now boarded up. Craning his neck, Stan was able to catch sight of the window at the top that led into their old living room. The stained glass was dusty and smeared with grime and - holy crap had that triangle always been in the window like that?!

Stan shook his head rapidly and focused his eyes on the front of the shop. The door had been left slightly ajar. When he pushed it open, the familiar bell above the door jingled softly, though the slight movement from the door pushing against it caused it to come loose from its fixings in the ceiling and clatter to the floor at Stan’s feet. Stan gently kicked it aside before venturing further into the shop. A tidal wave of nostalgia threatened to drown him as he looked around what had once been his home.

Shelves filled the whole of the shop floor, piled high with all sorts of objects. Musical instruments, lab equipment, clothes, toys, books, records, household appliances, cutlery and crockery and just about anything else conceivable filled the shelves surrounding him. As Stan turned around in circles in the small space, he almost felt as though the shelves were closing in on him. It was claustrophobic. He forced himself to keep moving, heading towards the back of the store. The further he walked, however, the longer the store seemed to go on. It stretched out ahead of him nauseatingly. More and more shelves appeared out of nowhere.

Just as he felt close to approaching the “Staff Only” door at the far back of the store, a shelving unit appeared in front of him, causing him to come to an abrupt halt. Stan lifted a hand to push it aside, but something made him pause. On the shelf resting just at eye-level sat what appeared to be a snow globe. The base was constructed of steel and looked virtually indestructible. Inside the dome sat not water, but a strange, inky substance that floated and swirled around inside like the contents of a lava lamp. Within the ink appeared to be something akin to glitter. Nail polish maybe? Whatever it was, it was utterly bizarre to watch. The closer he looked, however, Stan began to notice something or rather someone trapped within the glass, repetitively being swept under by the current. Stan realised with a jolt that it was his twin. “Christ, Stanford!” Stan grasped the snow globe in his hands, bringing it closer to his face to get a better look.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Don’t you remember what happened last time that thing was smashed?”

A strikingly familiar voice sent a shiver up Stan’s spine and he frantically whirled around, looking for the source of the noise. Everywhere he looked now he could see those damn triangles. In the gaps between objects on the shelves, in the shadows draped over the walls and the floor, in the broken windows at the front of the store. They were just everywhere. There was the snap of a pair of fingers from somewhere behind him and Stan jumped about a foot in the air, the snow globe tumbling from his hand and shattering on the floor.

“Well, now you’ve done it.”

Stan didn’t have time to respond before the inky substance from within the snow globe spread rapidly across the floor at his feet. It crawled up his legs, swirled around his waist and swallowed him whole. The next time he opened his eyes, he was standing in a long, dark corridor. Doors ran along the walls either side of him, each of them adorned with a brass number. The closest one, numbered 601, was partially open. Frowning, Stan stepped closer and nudged the door open with his foot.

Inside, he saw what had once been his and Ford’s old bedroom. It was dark inside, though Stan was just able to make out a figure lying on the bed. Squinting, Stan managed to make out his brother’s face in the darkness. Muffled sobs appeared to echo around the room. A crumpled brochure sat in one of Ford’s hands. The West Coast Tech logo was printed at the top and suddenly Stan realised just what he was seeing.

That was the night Stan got kicked out.

Ford was wearing the same outfit he’d been wearing that night and, judging by his red-rimmed eyes, he’d been crying over losing his place at West Coast Tech. A surge of guilt struck Stan like a punch to the gut and he stepped backwards, shutting the door on the memory. He took a moment or two to calm himself before continuing. As much as he would have liked to look around his brother’s mind, see what he’d been up to over his absence, he still had to look for the source of Ford’s paralysis.

As he walked further down the hall, the sound of distant screaming became clearer. A faint blue light came from the crack under a door at the far end of the hall. Stan couldn’t ignore the feeling of dread coiling in his stomach as he got closer. The screams only got louder until they were deafening by the time he reached the door. The brass number 618 hung from the door by one nail. The light was seeping through the cracks in the wooden door, now. The screams were accompanied by the crackling of static and as Stan lay his hand on the door handle to open it, a spark of electricity raced out to greet his hand, causing him to curse and pull his hand away. Shaking the static out of his hand, Stan grabbed the handle and pushed the door open.

The sight that met him was enough to make his stomach churn.

The door appeared to lead to the inside of the Fearamid penthouse. Ford was suspended a good twenty or so feet in the air by thick metal chains around his wrists and ankles. A group of strange-looking aliens were gathered on the floor below him. Vivid blue electricity surged through the chains and directly into Ford’s body. Ford’s head was thrown back, a broken scream leaving his throat in a continuous howl of agony. The veins in his neck stood out prominently against his almost-white skin, showing he’d been screaming for some time now. Off to the side, emitting a cruel laughter, was none other than Bill Cipher himself.

Seeing the demon again after so long almost made Stan puke. He barely managed to force it back down as he watched the horror unfold in front of him. After what seemed like an aeon, Bill stopped the surge of energy to Ford’s body and laughed.

“How’s that for a shocking time, huh Sixer? Ready to crank it up a notch?!”

Ford coughed and weakly lifted his head up. He was panting heavily, but Stan was proud to see a determined glare on his twin’s face. “As if I’d tell you anything. Go ahead.”

Bill merely laughed and blasted him with another round, this one seeming much higher in intensity than the last, if the intensity of the blue glow was anything to go by. Once again, Ford’s screams filled the room and Stan found himself scrambling for the exit. He rushed through the door and slammed it shut behind him. He pressed his back to the door and sunk down to sit on the floor, visibly shaking. Out of all the things he had imagined Ford going through while in the Fearamid, seeing something like that in person made him feel sick.

Stan let out shaky gasps for breath as he tried to get a hold of himself. The sheer intensity of the electricity he’d seen hitting Ford should have killed him. Who knew what it was doing to his -

Oh.

Oh no.

Suddenly, everything made sense. Nerve impulses were electrical signals, so if a strong enough electric current was applied to the body, it would completely decimate the nervous system and cause it to break down. No wonder Ford had been losing his motor skills! That asshole demon had electrocuted him so bad that the damage was just getting worse over time! Stan felt rage flood through him and he got to his feet, storming back down the hall. He knew that Bill was long gone but that didn’t stop the pure, seething anger from clouding his thoughts. That demon had quite possibly permanently destroyed Ford’s body. Stan was glad he was gone, though part of him wished Bill was still around so that he could punch him in the face all over again.

Stan headed back the way he’d come in through a single silver door at the far end of the hall. He weaved in and out of the shelves filling the pawn shop, his sights set on the exit. The moment he stepped through that door, he found himself waking up, his glasses pressed into the side of his head. He forced himself to sit upright, his back cracking and creaking in protest. Ford was still asleep beside him, clearly unaware that anything had happened. As Stan watched his brother snore softly in the bed, the anger that had been fogging up his mind from before dissipating. Being angry at Bill now wasn’t going to fix his brother’s condition. It wasn’t like he could ever forgive Bill for what he’d done, but letting rage obscure his thoughts wasn’t going to help Ford get any better. Right now, the most important thing was making sure his brother got to a hospital tomorrow and got some proper treatment. That is, if his condition could even be reversed.

[radioactivedelorean]

What about stan saying #10 and Ford + drug withdrawals? I know this is rly random but I always thought it would be interesting if Ford got hooked on something beyond the portal but once he's back home he doesn't have access to it anymore

10: - “Can’t you see I’m just trying to help you?!” - Stan and Ford

“Can’t you see I’m just trying to help you?!” Stan watches in abject horror as Ford shakes, a little bit of saliva gathering at the corners of his mouth.

“I-I’m f-fine, S-Stanley,” Ford mutters, sweat beading on his forehead. “I j-just need a drink.”

“Ford, go and sit down,” Stan orders, pointing at his chair in the living room. “Now.”“I-I’m f-fine,” Ford mumbles again, though he is still shaking pretty badly and doesn’t look fine at all.

Stan all but shoves him into the chair and turns towards the kitchen, going to get a glass of water. He has barely spent five seconds out of the room before Ford bolts into the bathroom. Stan cringes as he hears the sound of his brother vomiting heavily. He lets out a sigh and grabs some aspirin tablets as well, setting both the glass of water and the dosage of aspirin on the dinosaur head beside the chair.Ford returns a few minutes later, shaking much worse now. Stan wishes it was because of the cold. He guides his brother into the chair and gets him to sit down, passing him the glass of water and the aspirin before going to get a warm blanket. By the time he returns, Ford is curled up tightly in the chair with his arms wrapped around his stomach, faint groans escaping him every so often. Ford’s eyes are screwed shut in pain.

Stan sighs and sits down next to his brother, running a hand through Ford’s hair. His hair feels damp with cold sweat and Stan only frowns in concern. The symptoms Ford has been having recently are shockingly similar to ones Stan had after his time in Columbia when he was experiencing withdrawals from the drugs he had been addicted to there. “Sixer?”“Y-yeah…?” Ford murmurs in response, though he doesn’t move from where he sits curled up tightly. He still looks pale and won’t stop shaking.Stan kneels just in front of Ford, a gentle frown on his face. “Were you addicted to anything while you were in the Portal?” He asks softly.Ford’s face goes pale - well, paler - and he swallows hard. “N-no…”“Ford, please, I want to help you,” Stan insists. “You can tell me, okay? I just want to help you get through this…”Ford whimpers quietly and looks away. “…kalaxian crystals… that’s what I was addicted to… I … I had them at a bar once, a-and after that I was hooked …”Stan nods with a frown. “I understand, Sixer…”“D-do you…?” Ford asks softly, his eyes brimming with unshed tears at the churning in his stomach and the spinning in his head. His eyes are only half-open as he tries to shield his gaze from the light, which seems so much brighter than it is normally. “Yeah, I do,” Stan nods again. “I’ve been addicted to all kinds of shit that I’ve encountered during the ten years I was - … away from home.”Ford swallows thickly. “Like w-what?”“Oh, marijuana, crack cocaine, LSD, you name it I’ve done it,” Stan shrugs. “I tried legal highs a couple of times, but always ended up coughing up blood so I just stopped takin’ em. I never got addicted to those, but the rest? Let’s just say that not all the money I made from the Shack went to maintaining it.”Ford frowns. “But you’re… clean, now, right?”“Yeah, been clean for almost fifteen years,” says Stan proudly, grinning. His grin immediately fades when Ford curls up tighter in the chair, hugging his stomach as if trying to stop himself splitting apart in the middle. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”Ford shakes his head, his eyes screwed shut tightly. “I-I’ll be okay, it’s just cramp.”“Ford, trust me, it ain’t cramp,” Stan sighs. “C’mon, you need a drink and some sleep.”Ford sighs in defeat and uncurls himself from the chair, letting Stan help him up. Stan brings one of Ford’s arms around his shoulders, taking most of the weight off his brother’s feet before guiding him towards Ford’s bedroom. He gets the door open and helps Ford sit down, where the older twin immediately lies down and curls up tightly again.

Stan sighs and sits by his brother’s side, running his fingers through Ford’s hair in an attempt to soothe him. It seems to work, causing Ford’s eyes to slowly flutter closed. Stan eases his brother’s boots, jacket and belt off in an attempt to make him more comfortable before bringing the blankets up and over the older twin. He tucks Ford into bed, making sure he’s comfortable. By this time, Ford looks like he has passed out. He’s still pale and sweating slightly, but at least he’s resting now. Stan sighs softly, giving Ford’s hand a gentle squeeze, before getting up and leaving the room. He shuts the door behind him and lets his brother get some much-needed rest. He goes into the kitchen and fetches a cold glass of water, popping an ice cube or two in there for good measure. Along with another tablet for the stomachache, Stan returns to Ford’s room to leave the glass of water and tablet on the bedside table. He’s about to remove his brother’s glasses, which are pressed awkwardly against his face when a six-fingered hand grabs his wrist. “S-Stan? I … I’m cold.”Stan sighs softly, pulling Ford’s glasses from his face and folding them, leaving them neatly on the bedside table. “Do you want another blanket?”Ford shook his head, a faint blush staining his pale cheeks a delicate pink. “No, but … can you stay with me?”Stan smiles gently, kicking his own shoes off and slipping out of the black blazer jacket he’d been wearing. He takes his own glasses off, setting them down beside Ford’s. “Sure, Poindexter, but just ‘cause you’re ill, okay?”Ford nods and shuffles back on the bed until his back is pressed against the wall. Stan pulls the blankets back and slips into bed next to his brother. When he pulls Ford close, he feels his twin shivering under his arms. Ford really does feel quite cold, but maybe that’s just due to the sweating. Ford buries his face in the crook of his brother’s neck, resting his head on Stan’s shoulder with one arm draped around his brother’s middle. Stan wraps his arms around Ford’s shoulders, one hand running lightly through Ford’s hair. Ford nuzzles closer, holding Stan close to him. With his brother’s comfort, it takes not long at all for Ford to drift off to sleep. Stan holds Ford close to him, whispering a promise to help him through this before sleep takes him as well.

____

Please don’t tag ships :/

[paintedcrows]

#Ford is trying to be gentle with the hug because he knows Stan is pretty beat up #it still hurts but Stan doesn't care #You can't see it but Ford is tearing up YOUR TAGS. IM GOING TO CRYY

They are everything to me 😭😭💙

Directly inspired by a very good drawing @paintedcrows did of time travel AU stuff (linked here). Pain inspires pain