#gravity falls reverse portal | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fangirlwriting-stories · 2 months ago

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What's Almost Familiar

Summary: “It’s not quite that simple,” Ford says, turning to look back at his drink. “If the portal is turned back on, it could give Bill a path through to whatever world it’s turned on in. It’s not as easy as turning it on and you get to go home. It’s the needs of the many versus the needs of the few. He has to keep the world safe from Bill. I can understand why he has to leave you here.”

He winces a little as soon as he says the last part, and braces himself. He expects a glare, or for Stan to snap at him, or anything similar. Something that shows he doesn’t understand the sacrifice part of all this. But instead, Stan laughs, a strange mix of fond and sad, and takes another swig of his beer.

“God, Poindexter,” he says. “You’ve been out here almost thirty years and you still haven’t learned a damn thing, have you?”

Author's Note: No of course I didn't read the Book of Bill lately like everyone else what are you talking about

I also blame this post with all the amazing inspiring art btw

...

In retrospect, Ford probably shouldn’t have run when the fashion police from the last dimension had started chasing him. But while he doesn’t know anything about how to look fashionable, he does know that based on the suits and dresses of that dimension, he wouldn’t stand a chance in court. He hadn’t even known someone could wear that much glitter.

He hadn’t even meant to go to the stupid dimension in the first place. He’d been aiming for the one over, but his dimension-hopping gun had been buggy for weeks now, and the parts still aren’t ready to fix it. The dimension he was aiming for was supposed to give him an opportunity for a short rest, somewhere he could stay just long enough until the jerry-rigged screen on his gun would go off and tell him the parts are ready.

But surprise surprise, the malfunctioning gun still has a tendency to malfunction, and he’d wound up in a dimension that took his proclivity for comfort personally.

He hadn’t really had a dimension in mind when he fired up the gun again, just somewhere he could hide for a bit, but unfortunately the fashion police followed him right through the portal, meaning Ford is still running, with them hot on his heels and shouting about the tears in his coat.

Okay, okay, he can do this. He’s been on the run enough times to figure this out. He needs to lose them, find a place to hide, and get his dimension gun working long enough to find a place they can’t follow him.

Ford looks ahead and sees a corner to his left, and dives around it. What meets him is a straightway of crumbling abandoned buildings. Well, he’s hidden in worse places. But as he starts running down the street, aiming for another alleyway to duck down in a hope of losing the officers behind him, someone sprints out of an alley on his other side, and runs headfirst into him, knocking them both to the ground.

“Hey, watch where you’re going you knucklehead!” Ford snaps, but when he turns to glare at the person as he tries to pull himself to his feet, he’s met with… himself?

No, that’s impossible. If this was an alternate version of himself, both of them and the entire dimension would now be starting to fade from existence. But it sure looks like him, which only leaves the option of—

Ford’s eyes widen. “Stanley?”

Stanley stares back at him, looking equally as stunned as Ford feels, but before either of them can say anything, from behind Stan comes “You won’t get away with it this time!” and Stan whirls back to look towards it.

“Uh, we should probably get out of here,” he says. He stands and pulls Ford to his feet, and starts pushing them both back the way Ford came.

“Uh, no,” Ford says, pushing back. “Bad idea.”

Before Stan can ask why, the fashion police run around the corner, and Stan looks at them. His expression turns baffled, which is fair, Ford hasn’t encountered cops who wear that much perfume before tonight either.

“Get back here, you filthy criminal!” one of them yells. “The detective themed party was last week!”

“O-kay, we’re running now,” Stan says. He grabs Ford’s hand and pulls them both down the street, away from both sets of cops.

“Buy me some time,” Ford says, yanking out his dimension gun. “If I can get this damn thing to work I can get us out of here!”

Stan turns over his shoulder, and there’s the sound of a gun of some kind going off, which is strange, because he hadn’t thought Stan had one. But judging by the pained cry and the “No, not blood on my suit!”, Stan definitely hit the fashion police with something. Another cry comes from behind them, and Ford manages to get the gun settled on one dimension.

He hits the button on his gun, and a portal opens in front of them both. He grabs Stanley’s arm and pulls them both through it, then points the gun over his shoulder and zaps the portal closed.

They’re in a dimension that’s clearly experienced an apocalypse recently, just a flat, gray, dead expanse of land. And while whatever happened is bound to be depressing if they take the time to figure it out, for now the both of them just use it as an excuse to stop and catch their breath. Ford leans forward and puts his hands on his knees, and lets out a large sigh of relief.

After a moment of heavy breathing, Stanley laughs. “Well, that’s the last time I ever bring that much fake money into a casino,” he says.

“I’m not even going to ask,” Ford mutters.

Then realization strikes him, and he stands back up. “Wait, Stanley,” he says. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” Stan asks incredulously. “You weren’t supposed to jump in after me, Poindexter. What the hell were you thinking?”

“After you?” Ford asks, baffled. “You mean you…” he pauses as the obvious option occurs to him. It seems to occur to Stan at the same time.

“We’re… not from the same place, are we?” Stan asks, his face falling ever so slightly, despite the way he was just yelling at Ford about coming in after him.

“It seems not,” Ford says, giving a sympathetic smile. “But hey, thanks for the save back there. How did you do that, anyway?”

Stan shrugs, and hoists up his right arm. Now that they’re not running from the cops, it’s easier to see that the arm looks suspiciously metal, which is confirmed a second later, when Stan points it firmly away from both of them and turns all of the fingers into what look like miniature guns.

For a second, all Ford can do is stare at it.

“Lost the real one a decade and a half ago,” Stan says. “Figured if I was gonna get an upgrade it might as be an upgrade, y’know?”

Ford swallows, still looking at his arm. “Six fingers?” he asks quietly.

Stan’s eyes widen slightly and he immediately hides the arm behind his back. “Yeah well uh, you know, the guy who made it doesn’t get too many humans and wasn’t super sure what he was doing. Plus uh, more bullets.”

Ford raises an eyebrow. “Why not get seven fingers, then?”

Stan sighs, and drops his arm back to his side, then rubs the back of his neck with his other one. “Don’t make a thing of it.”

“Never,” Ford says, smiling a little despite himself. And despite the fact that he really can’t afford to waste time finding parts for his quantum destabilizer, he can’t help the next thing that comes out of his mouth.

“Hey,” he says. “I know a good human bar a couple dimensions over. I can probably get this thing working long enough to get us there,” he says, lifting up his dimension gun. “Do you want to get a drink?”

Stan grins.

…

This version of Stan who got sucked into the portal is everything Ford would have thought to expect from a version of Stan who got sucked into the portal. He’s loud and brash and boastful, with plenty of tricks he can pull off with his prosthetic arm and plenty of stories about space heists he’s pulled off. Ford is fairly certain they’re not all true, but he wants to hear every one anyway.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed Stanley. His feelings about his actual brother from his own dimension are so tangled up with betrayal and anger and a million other things that it’s hard to even know what he’d do if he saw him. But in talking to a version of Stanley that carries none of the emotional baggage, Ford almost feels like he’s eighteen again, before everything went so horribly wrong between them.

“Listen, I’m telling you, that one was the law’s fault,” Stan says, setting his mug of beer down. “Laws shouldn’t be stupid if they don’t want to be broken.”

“I don’t think that’s quite how that works,” Ford says, though the large smile on his face is definitely giving away how little he’s bothered by it.

“Hey, I wasn’t the only one running from the cops tonight,” Stan points out with a bright grin. “Guess I’m not the only criminal in the family anymore.”

“Laws broken in the name of science and survival don’t count,” Ford says, picking up his own beer and taking a drink.

“Great, so that means I can write off everything I did in the ten years after dad kicked me out, good to know,” Stan asks, sounding amused.

Ford startles a little, surprised at the casual way that Stan says that. He doesn’t often think about what life was like for Stan during those ten years, but if he’s talking about writing off broken laws, Ford really doubts he means it in the name of science.

Either way, Stan seems totally content to move on, instead grinning back at Ford. “And what was tonight, survival or science?” he asks.

Ford wrinkles his nose. “Fashion.”

Stan laughs, loud and delighted in the way Ford hasn’t heard in decades.

“I’m sorry, didn’t you say something about bringing fake money into a casino?” Ford says, shoving Stan in the shoulder rather than acknowledging the ache in his chest.

“Yeah, but you expect that of me. Next time you want to break the law, put some actual malice behind it. It’s way more fun.”

Ford just rolls his eyes and takes another drink of his beer. “Please, I bet I could outshine you with multiverse law-breaking stories.”

“I’m sorry, have you been listening to all my space heists?”

“And how many run-ins have you had with monsters and dream demons? Have you ever even met Bill Cipher?”

“Bill Cipher? What is he, like a secret code nerd you lost a boxing match to?”

“Oh, now I know that wasn’t a dig at my boxing skills.”

“Well, if the glove fits.”

“I’ve been traveling the multiverse and fighting monsters for almost thirty years, my boxing skills are a little better than they were in high school.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Ford glares over at Stan. “Are you trying to get me to start a brawl in the middle of a bar?”

Stan just takes another drink of his beer, though Ford can see the smile behind it. He can’t help but smile back a little as he shakes his head and takes a drink from his own mug.

Stan sets his drink down after another second, and turns to face Ford again. And while Ford is expecting another joke or the start to a story to try and one-up all of Ford’s options, instead Stan surprises him.

“So uh, your portal incident,” he says. Ford turns and faces him. He wasn’t expecting Stan to go there. But then Stan says, “where’d you end up after going through? Because like, if we didn’t run into each other until now, but everything else seems mostly the same, does that mean we started in different places?”

Ford gives an “ah” of understanding.

“Well, I ended up in the nightmare realm with Bill,” Ford says. “Had to run for my life pretty fast, but I made it out. I mean, obviously. Where were you?”

“A giant empty void of some kind,” Stan says. He rubs the back of his neck and gives a sour smile. “Thought Ford was mocking me.”

Ford narrows his eyes in confusion. “Huh?”

“Oh, my Ford, obviously,” Stan says with a wave of his hand, as if that clears it up. “Not you.”

“No, I— what do you mean, you thought he was mocking you?”

“Well, after he shoved me in,” Stan says, and something about the way he says it makes Ford’s chest go cold.

“But… why would that mean he was mocking you?” he asks, hoping he’s misunderstanding. “It was an accident, wasn’t it?”

Stan turns and gives him a confused look. “What? No. What are you talking about?”

“Well, I wouldn’t— you’re not saying he shoved you in on purpose, are you?”

“Hey,” Stan holds up his hands. “Different worlds, different Fords. It doesn’t say anything about you.”

Ford tries not to let his obvious discomfort show. “I suppose,” he says. But still, he can’t imagine any scenario where he’d shove Stanley into the portal on purpose. He might have been angry at Stan, but he never wanted him in danger. And shoving him through the portal would have guaranteed that. He shut it down because it was dangerous, and he didn’t want anything like what happened to Fiddleford to happen to anyone else.

“You’re really bothered by that, huh,” Stan says after a second, because he’s far too similar to the brother Ford knows, which means he can read him like an open book.

“I just don’t understand,” Ford admits, shaking his head. “I mean, you are so similar to how I remember my version of Stanley. Why would I be so different?”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, he was actin’ different too,” Stan says. “My brother, I mean. Real weird.”

Ford looks curiously back at Stan. “Weird how?”

“Like, real giggly and manic. At one point I kicked him hard into the wall and he just started laughing. He said something about how hilarious it was. Honestly, I think he was on something.”

Ford can’t breathe. His mind is starting to paint him a horrifying picture.

“He— Stanley,” he says. “Did he fall unconscious at any point that you were down there?”

Stan looks at him in confusion. “How’d you know that?”

Ford runs a hand through his hair. “That— god. Stanley, that wasn’t your brother.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That— remember when I mentioned Bill Cipher?”

“The secret code nerd?” Stan asks, smirking.

“He’s not a secret code nerd, he’s a demon,” Ford says, turning to face Stan directly, trying to get across the importance of what he’s saying, because if Stanley meant it when he said he never met Bill, that means he’s spent the whole time here thinking his brother pushed him through the portal on purpose, and Ford can’t let that go on.

“Stanley, he’s a demon that I met, and that your brother must have met too. I suppose I can’t say that things went exactly the same, but from what you said…” he takes a breath and folds his hands together. He doesn’t make a habit of telling people his history with Bill, but this is important.

“I met him when I was young and idealistic and stupid,” he says plainly. “And before I realized how malicious and dangerous he was, I made a deal with him, and let him possess me whenever he wanted. He can’t anymore,” Ford knocks on the metal plate in his head. “But back then, he could anytime that I fell asleep. And that whole thing, about pain being hilarious? He said that all the time. He probably thought that you were too dangerous to him, or that you’d get in the way, so when your brother fell unconscious, he… well. I can’t imagine why he’d lead with the fact that it wasn’t your brother in control anymore.”

Stan looks at him for a long moment after he finishes, and to Ford’s surprise, he can’t read his face. Finally, Stan just says, “Huh.” He turns and takes a drink of his beer.

Ford blinks at him. “Huh?” he repeats.

Stan looks back at him. “Do you want me to say something else?”

“Something— do you believe me?” Ford asks, a little incredulous.

“I mean, I’ve seen enough crazy shit out here that it can’t exactly be off the table,” Stan says. “You also have no reason to lie to me, so… yeah, sure.” He shrugs.

Ford looks at him for another minute. “I’ll admit, I was expecting a bigger reaction,” he says.

“I mean, it doesn’t change that much,” Stan says. “I’m still here, aren’t I? Come on, we both know how smart you are. If my brother wanted me back he’s had thirty years to do something about it. Even if he wasn’t responsible for the first part, it’s on him now. It’s fine. I made my peace with it a long time ago.”

Oh. Ford gets it now. Stan wants something he can’t have.

“It’s not quite that simple,” Ford says, turning to look back at his drink. “If the portal is turned back on, it could give Bill a path through to whatever world it’s turned on in. It’s not as easy as turning it on and you get to go home. It’s the needs of the many versus the needs of the few. He has to keep the world safe from Bill. I can understand why he has to leave you here.”

“God, Poindexter,” he says. “You’ve been out here almost thirty years and you still haven’t learned a damn thing, have you?”

“I— what? I’ve learned plenty,” Ford says, feeling a little offended. “I’ve learned so much about the multiverse, and about Bill, and—”

“About yourself, knucklehead,” Stan says, smirking at him. “Have you just been passing through from one place to another for thirty years?”

“I— there aren’t a ton of other options,” Ford says. “I can’t stay in a parallel Earth, I could run into a version of myself. There’s too many dimensions that can’t sustain a life form like me, and I still have Bill to worry about. It’s not like I can just leave him to do whatever he wants.”

“Sure you can,” Stan says. “Someone else will take care of him.”

“Someone else will what? Stanley—”

“It’s not all on you, Ford,” Stan says, looking back at him. “If there’s a version of me here, there have to be other versions of you. Let one of them take that risk.”

“I can’t just count on that! What if that’s what we all think?”

Stan snorts, like that’s somehow funny.

“Stanley—”

“And then what?” Stan cuts him off, turning and raising an eyebrow at him. “After you defeat Bill. What do you do then?”

“I— there’s bound to be something else that—”

“What stuff do you do because you want to, Ford? What out here makes you happy?”

“Well— discovering new dimensions and how they work,” Ford says. “Their laws of physics, their food and cultures, their—”

“You got any friends?”

“What does that matter?”

“How much of the stuff you learned was pure observation? Did you go up and talk to anyone, ask them questions about how things work?”

“Right, because everyone in every dimension speaks English.”

Stan raises an eyebrow. “You’re telling me you’ve been here almost thirty years and you’ve never gotten your hands on a dimensional translator?”

“I— I have, but that’s not—”

“Ford, listen. We have to live here, right? I’m never going home, and it doesn’t sound like you think you are either.”

“I’m not,” Ford says. “What’s your point?”

“So this is all we got,” Stan says. “You’re never going home, so you have to do something else.”

“Obviously, what are you getting at?”

Stan grins at him. “You want to come check out my place?”

Ford stares at him. “You have a house?”

“Of sorts.” Stan pulls out a small box that looks vaguely like a treasure chest. “I’ve got a dimensional lock on her.”

“I…” Ford says, and trails off, not quite sure what to say.

Stan smiles at him, and then waves over at the bartender. “Thanks for the drinks!” he calls. He slams a couple bills down on the counter and turns back to Ford.

“Are those bills real?”

“Shh. Let’s go.” Stan hits a button on his dimensional lock, and the world bends and twists around them, pulling them back to whatever Stan’s put the other lock on. When they stop, Ford looks around, and—

“Why am I not surprised?” he asks, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, she’s a beauty, ain’t she?” Stan says, grinning at him. “Welcome to the Stan-O-War II.”

They’re standing on a houseboat in what looks like a fairly typical human ocean, if you ignore the fact that a stretch of it rises into the air and twists upside down into the sky not too far up ahead.

They’re sailing right towards the lift into the air, but Stan seems completely unphased by this. He walks up a set of stairs to a steering wheel, and pulls a lever on the side. The entire boat starts glowing gold, and as they reach the shift in gravity, the boat turns into it with no issue, and Ford doesn’t feel his own center of gravity shift at all.

“You would not believe how much I had to steal to get that part working,” Stan says.

“Stanley—”

“Alright, I lied. I worked odd jobs until I could afford it. Easier that way. There’s so many police checks on these kinds of dohickeys, it’s ridiculous.”

The boat sails with the curve until they’re upside down, and Ford can look around him to see stars and planets around them, though not any that he recognizes.

“Remarkable,” he breathes, because he can’t help but be a little blown away by it.

Stanley walks back down the steps and over to stand next to Ford, smiling at the stars around them too.

“I picked this dimension as a home base,” Stan says. “I think you can guess why.”

Ford just nods.

Stan walks forward and leans over the side of the boat to look down at the water. After a second, Ford joins him. From the— sea? sky?— below, fish leap up and eat the stars out of the air. As soon as they land back in the water, one of the stars still in the air splits in half, and the number of stars in the sky remains unchanged.

“Some of the planets,” Stan says, pointing at one with his finger and following it as the bot sails past it. “Can support life. So when the fish eat the stars, the stars split so nothing on the planet dies. The brief moments of darkness are the planet’s solar eclipses.”

“Planet-wide solar eclipses?” Ford asks, amazed. “Is the star gone for too short of a time to make a difference in the temperature?”

“Nah. The folks on the planet just evolved to get used to it.”

“How do you know?” Ford asks, looking back at him.

“I shrunk myself down and went to ask ‘em. Had to time it right, though. I’m sure not evolved to survive an eldritch fish eating the sun.”

“Stanley, that’s… incredibly dangerous,” Ford says. But for a moment, he can’t help but feel impossibly jealous.

“Worth it though. I’m apparently well known to everyone on pretty much every planet. They kind of view me as a god. Hell of an ego boost that was.”

“Oh lord,” Ford mutters. “I don’t want to think about that.”

Stan laughs. He turns and leans back against the side of the boat, then gazes up at the sea, back on the… well, Earth, of sorts, now above them.

“When I said I made my peace with it,” Stan says, without looking at Ford, “I meant it. I know my brother. I know how his head works. I know he’s probably doin’ alright without me, and I’m okay with that. Way I see it, my two options were either let everything fester and grow into an angry, bitter old man, or let it go.” Stan spreads his hands. “I like where the second option has let me end up.”

Ford looks at Stan, and finds he doesn’t know what to say. It’s an unusual feeling. He’s not sure he likes it.

It looks like they’ll be sailing along the sky for a while, judging by what’s ahead of them, so Ford leans back next to Stan and looks at the sky below them and the sea above them.

“But…” Ford says finally, because he has to say something. “What’s your goal, here? What are you trying to do?”

Stan turns to him, raises an eyebrow. “Goal?”

“What do you want to do, with your life?” Ford asks. “It— it can’t just be— this.”

Stan smiles, just a little. “And why not?”

“Well— because…” Ford trails off, lost.

Neither of them say much for a while.

Finally, Ford’s dimension gun beeps at him. He glances down at the screen and lets out a sigh of relief.

“My parts to fix my gun are ready,” he says to Stan. “I’ve gotta get going. But… thanks, I guess. It was nice to meet you, and have a drink, and…” he looks around, and his words are stolen for another moment. Eventually, he just finishes “…this.”

Stan gives him a long look, then just nods.

Ford moves the gun’s settings carefully, and when he fires it, it shows him the right dimension.

It’s just as he’s about to step through that Stan speaks again.

“You could come with me, you know,” he says. “We could hunt for treasure and adventure, like we always said we would. Even if we’re not technically the ones we said it to.”

This, Ford has been expecting, and he responds instantly and with ease. “I can’t,” he says, turning to give Stan one last look. “I have to try and defeat Bill. I have to save the world.”

But rather than get angry, or sad, or doing anything that makes sense, Stan just sighs. “Yeah,” he says. “You always do, huh.” He turns and starts back up the stairs towards the wheel, and Ford watches him go. Stan gives no argument, doesn’t keep trying to convince Ford to come.

Ford doesn’t know what to say. It’s the third time it’s happened, and that’s enough that he’s decided, he’s not a fan. He would say it’s foolish to expect to know how a Stan from an alternate dimension would act, but so much about this version of his brother has been familiar enough to make Ford’s chest ache. And yet, when it comes to the big things, the set-in-stone things, like the Stan-O-War, and Bill, and getting shoved into the multiverse for thirty years by someone Stan freely admits he thought put him here on purpose; when it comes to the conversations that Ford should absolutely know the path of, Stan reacts in the complete opposite way he expects, and it leaves Ford feeling lost and unsteady.

“I…” he says, reaching for something normal. He fails. “I don’t understand.”

Stan turns to face him. There is so much sudden warmth and love in his gaze that it takes Ford’s breath away.

“That’s okay, Sixer,” Stan says. “Just go try and save the world. Come find me if you fail, okay? I’ll still be here.”

Ford doesn’t know what to say to that either. After a second, he just turns and walks through to the other dimension, to get the parts he needs.

He turns one last time and watches Stan as the portal between them closes. Stan smiles as it does, and then he’s gone. He leaves Ford with a lump in his throat, an ache in his chest, and the feeling that he’s missed something important.

#gravity falls #stanford pines #stanley pines #reverse portal au #plus the ford from canon #my fic

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