#later in the lab he cried that stan would take the time to read his papers

[lkfarrout]

Headcanon that before weirdmaggedon, while cleaning out the basement, Ford finds a box full of his PHD dissertations, printed out:

F: That's it, Stan. You can take my name and my house, but distributing MY research and claiming it's yours is a whole other level of insulting.

S: What the hell are you talking about? I didn't "distribute" anything of yours.

F: Then why do you have these? *waves the papers in Stan's face* Where did you get them?

S: I paid for those, Poindexter. Printed them off the online database your college has.

F: For what purpose?

S: Because I wanted to read them? Did it ever occur to you that I might have missed you all these years?

F: Oh... well, which one was your favorite?

S: Beyond the Known: A Study of Cryptids, Anomalies, and the Unseen Forces of Nature was pretty good.

F: You think so? I was always proud of that one... wait did you say you had to pay for them?

[sweatersexual]

In Gravity Falls, You Abduct the Aliens

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Read the previous work in this series

“This,” proclaimed Stan, “is not a house.” He waded through the piles of books, papers, and weird gadgets. “Seriously, who keeps a chalkboard in their living room? This is more like some kind of nerd lair.”

“I prefer to think of it as my own research lab that I have all-hours access to, but the term lair does lend a certain ambience,” said Ford.

Stan picked up a deformed skull that looked like it belonged to some kind of rodent. “This feels like the intro to a horror movie. With a plucky pair of teen heroes to terrorize and giant switches to a zappy doomsday device, you’d be all set.” He started playing with the skull’s jaw hinge.

Ford reclaimed the skull from him. “Well, it’s no doomsday device, but once I get the portal in the basement working, it’ll be plenty ‘zappy,’ as you say.”

Right, the portal. Ford had talked about it a lot on their drive up from Vegas, where the two of them had happened to run into each other and ended up reconciling. Ford seemed preoccupied by how he’d build the thing without his old flame, Fiddleford McGucket. Ford had invited him to join them in Gravity Falls as well, but when the two nerds realized they still had the hots for each other, Fiddleford had decided to do right by his wife and kid and stay in Palo Alto.

Stan, on the other hand, might be no mechanical engineer, but he was smart enough to realize there was more to this portal business than Ford was telling him.

“Man, you really have a one track mind when it comes to that portal, huh? You were even talking about it in your sleep while we were driving up here. ‘So sorry, shouldn’t’ve let my personal feelings get in the way. . . . ‘S only a temporary setback . . . won’t let all our hard work go to waste . . .’ Has somebody else been helping with the portal?”

Ford nervously spun the skull around in his hand. “Really, Stanley, it’s silly to read too much into sleep talk. I could’ve been talking about anything.”

“Come on, Sixer. If you’re gonna lie to me, you gotta try harder than that.”

“Don’t you trust me, Stanley?”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“I do, but . . . I don’t want you to think I’m crazy.”

Stan put a hand on Ford’s shoulder. “Listen, bro. I’ve been all over the world. Whatever it is, I’ll understand.”

Ford sighed. “All right, I’ll try to explain. But first, let me go get something. A visual aid, if you will.”

A few minutes later, he returned, having replaced the deformed skull with a ceramic jar in his now gloved hands. “I was lucky to get my hands on this,” Ford told him. “The Northwests hoard just about all the artifacts they can find. Please avoid touching it, I don’t have any disposable five-fingered gloves to protect it from the oils on your hands.”

He presented the design on the jar to Stan, who was doing his best to show Ford he didn’t think he was crazy. The picture was of a man with an animal pelt on his head talking to a triangle with one eye. “Don’t tell me you got recruited by the Illuminati or something,” said Stan.

“No, I haven’t joined any secret societies,” Ford assured him. “This depicts a man named Modoc from three thousand years ago, seeking wisdom from an ancient being. From time to time, this being presents himself to truly singular minds, giving them divine insight and knowledge. And now this Muse has chosen me.”

“Okay,” said Stan. “So you’ve gotten into some kind of niche religion. It’s not that weird. Just don’t drink the Kool-Aid, all right?”

Ford set the jar down on what little empty space his dining room table had left. “I haven’t joined a cult, Stan. I mean, it is a kind of spiritual experience, talking to my Muse, but there’s no organized religion involved. Ever since I summoned him, he manifests himself in my dreams. I never could’ve gotten this far in my investigations of Gravity Falls without him. And he’s helped me come up with the plans for this portal. I know it sounds strange, but there really is something otherworldly about him. And even if he is somehow all in my imagination, the inspiration has never steered me wrong.”

Stan’s bullshit-o-meter was going off, but not because he thought Ford was lying to him. Stan knew his twin’s tells, and Ford was definitely sincere about this muse thing. He couldn’t take Ford’s words at face value, but he could tell that Ford was really going out on a limb here, being honest about something that could get him called a quack at best or institutionalized at worst. So what if the guy was in his thirties and had an imaginary friend? Let him have his weird triangle dreams if it made him happy.

So Stan simply said, “Hey, whatever floats your boat, poindexter. But now that I’m here, you’re not just some weird hermit living in the woods. We’re a family. And families live in homes, not nerd lairs.”

Ford blinked, seeming surprised that Stan had changed the subject. But he went along with it anyway. “Right. Well, I have been meaning to organize everything for awhile now. My research keeps getting ahead of me. But I’ll probably be able to think better without so much clutter around.”

It didn’t take long for the twins to settle into a routine. Mornings were for cleaning and organization. After lunch, Stan would run errands while Ford struggled building his machine in the basement. Stan never imagined he’d get so excited about yard sale curtains and other furnishings, but after so many years never having a permanent place of his own, he relished the chance to decorate his own living space. Afternoons and evenings were dedicated to finding and studying anomalies, then Stan tried to persuade Ford to go to bed rather than get back to work on the portal again. He was rarely successful.

“I owe it to myself to at least stumble along with the limited mechanical knowledge I have,” said Ford. “And maybe I’ll find someone or something else that can help.”

Stan did try to help, but it took so long for Ford to even explain what he was trying to do, and it was so boring listening to him speak nothing but jargon, and Ford just didn’t think the way Stanley did. Stan would probably have better luck just taking Ford’s plans and trying to decode them himself, either way it would take ages. Instead he simply figured out how to use a welding torch and applied it where Ford told him to.

But Stan’s favorite hours were spent running through the woods with his brother. He had never expected to see a gnome for himself, or play with magic size-altering crystals. About one week into his stay, Ford was over the moon to find a sleeping gremloblin. “I don’t know when I’ll get another chance to study one up close like this!”

Stan helped take samples and measurements (it really was remarkable how heavy a sleeper this gremloblin was), then helped himself to his favorite toffee peanuts while Ford finished scribbling in his journal. Rustling in the bushes behind him turned his head, and before he knew it a red and black creature was running away from him, and the toffee peanuts that had fallen on the ground were gone.

Ford snapped to attention, too. “Did you see what that was?” he asked Stan.

“Something with a duck bill.” Stan held up his snack. “It was trying to get these.”

Ford grimaced. “I suppose there’s no accounting for taste.”

Stan rolled his eyes. Ford was so dramatic about his distaste for Stan’s favorite snack.

“Can I try to lure it back out?” asked Ford, reaching for the toffee peanuts.

“Fine.”

Once they had gotten the creature to reemerge, Ford was back to scribbling in his journal. “So the plaidypus legends are real! Fascinating, fascinating. Is it just me, or do you think it smells like maple syrup and bacon?”

They were able to track the plaidypus back to its burrow on the marshy banks by the creek, where they found a clutch of flannel-patterned eggs. To improve upon their fantastic luck, they had arrived in time to watch the eggs hatch.

“Look at that! They only have the horizontal stripes now, the vertical stripes must come in as they grow - did you get the measurements on that last one, Stanley?”

“Yeah, but what do you think the deal is with that one?” Stan pointed to a blue egg that hadn’t yet hatched.

“I have no idea. I’m not even sure that’s a plaidypus egg.”

Ford turned out to be extremely correct when the blue egg did hatch and a slimy white monster popped out.

“What the hell is that thing?” asked Stan.

Ford replied, “I’ve never seen anything like it,” then gasped when the monster mutated into another baby plaidypus. “It’s a mimic!”

“Wait - which one is it?” asked Stan.

Ford cursed. “I should’ve been paying closer attention.”

The shapeshifter soon revealed itself when instead of latching on to the mother plaidypus’s lactating glands, it sank its teeth into another baby plaidypus. “No!” cried Stan as he picked up the imposter and pried its jaw open. “Bad shapeshifter thing!”

Ford tended the baby plaidypus’s wounds while Stan wrestled the shapeshifter into a containment jar, where it resumed its original pale, slimy form.

The study of this creature quickly set Ford into what Stan liked to call Full Nerd Mode. They hardly seemed to get through a conversation without Ford bringing up how “Shifty”, as he’d nicknamed the thing, changed his DNA when he changed forms, and how the implications from that would revolutionize the field of genetics, or asking for suggestions for safe forms to add to Shifty’s repertoire. Stan had to admit it was nice to see his brother obsess over something other than that portal for once, though if he had his way he could think of several ways for Shifty to aid with some under-the-table schemes.

“Stanley!” Ford had chided him when Stan had joked about the idea. “You have a job with me now. You don’t need to get into more trouble with the law.”

Yeah, that had been weird, getting an actual, legitimate paycheck for once, and with his brother’s signature no less. And it really was quite a lot considering that Stan didn’t need to pay rent or anything. But Stan couldn’t help that niggling doubt in the back of his mind questioning whether he had enough, whether Stan’s luck might still run dry and he’d better get as much as he could while the getting was good -

Stan had simply shrugged at his brother. “A side hustle never hurt anything,” he said. “And with Shifty’s help, we wouldn’t get caught.”

“I’m afraid it’s out of the question,” Ford had insisted. “We wear masks around Shifty for a reason, you know. It’s too dangerous to have him impersonate humans.”

And Stan could see the wisdom in that, but even so, he thought he did a good enough impression of his brother to recognize the second-rate performance Shifty would put on. The little monster couldn’t even talk!

That last assumption was proven wrong one afternoon while they were working on the portal and a high-pitched voice called out, “Beans!”

Ford’s head perked up from his schematics. “Did you say something?” he asked Stan, who shook his head.

Stan pointed to the dog kennel where they kept Shifty. “I think it was -”

“Beans!” the voice repeated, and it was definitely coming from the kennel.

“Remarkable,” said Ford, replacing his mask as he walked over to kneel in front of the kennel, where Shifty could see him. “Are you hungry, Shifty?”

“Beans,” he repeated, “for me.”

“I’ll go get him some,” said Stan. As he climbed the stairs up to the house, he heard Ford ask, “What else can you say, Shifty?”

When Stan returned with the beans Shifty liked so much, the little monster was repeating the brothers’ names. “Stan,” said the little voice. “Ford. Sixer poindexter knucklehead.”

Ford laughed. “Very good, Shifty. Those are some other names we call each other.”

“Who am I?” asked the shapeshifter. Stan felt his mouth drop open. That wasn’t the sort of question a parrot asked . . .

“Why, you’re Shifty,” said Ford without a trace of the trepidation Stan was feeling just then. “Stan has brought you those beans you wanted, Shifty.”

“Beans!”

When he was done eating, Shifty went back to asking questions. “Who am I? Who is Shifty?”

“Speaking in full sentences already,” said Ford. “This is really quite incredible.”

“He’s asking if he’s a person, Ford.”

“Stan, don’t anthropomorphize him. Even parrots can repeat phrases -”

“Parrots don’t ask existential questions like that! And besides, when have we ever said anything like that around him?”

Ford frowned. “I’ll need to collect more data -”

“This isn’t about data, Ford!” Stan gestured to the kennel. “That’s a kid! A weird monster kid, but still a kid. And we’re keeping him in a cage. Take it from someone who’s been to prison.” At that, Ford glanced up at him in surprise, and Stan looked away. “It does things to you.”

Ford stammered, “Stan, I - I didn’t know - you never said -”

“I don’t like to talk about it,” said Stan. “And anyway, this isn’t about me. This is about him.”

Ford nodded. It was a moment before he answered, “Well, I will need to do more tests, and we do need to keep his abilities under control, but -” Stan opened his mouth to argue, but Ford placed his hand on Stan’s shoulder in a calming motion - “but . . . your concerns have merit. Even a parrot would need a more stimulating environment than this. Will you help me whip something up for Shifty?”

Stan grinned. “Of course.”

With Stan’s help, Ford was able to construct a walled-off enclosure in the basement, which Shifty took to happily. When Ford was able to determine that the burrow Shifty made in the corner was a bed and not an escape route, he found he could breathe much easier.

Ford spent an increasing amount of time in the enclosure, testing Shifty’s language and cognitive skills. Soon he had an impressive amount of data confirming the shapeshifter’s intelligence. Shifty was always eager to participate in the “games,” as he referred to them, and responded very well to Ford’s praise. Ford had to admit he also enjoyed designing activities to keep Shifty occupied while Ford was working on other projects. These activities usually took the form of a puzzle or scavenger hunt, with chicken nuggets as prizes.

Shifty was also making great strides in learning to read. Ford had picked up a number of secondhand children’s books, but only ones that contained no illustrations of humans or dangerous animals for Shifty to take the forms of. This still left him with a wide variety of benign anthropomorphic animal characters like Frog and Toad, Frances, and Little Critter, many of whom became common forms for Shifty to take.

Eventually Ford felt comfortable enough for Shifty to have supervised playtime in the house and walks around the yard, but he and Stan always stayed masked and kept Shifty from seeing any people or dangerous animals.

On one such occasion, Stan was keeping an eye on Shifty upstairs while Ford was getting in some work on the portal. A loud thump from the floor above broke Ford’s focus, and a second had him scrambling up the steps, adjusting his mask as he went. The last thing he expected to find in the living room was two elephant seals.

“You didn’t tell me humans can shapeshift too!” said one of the elephant seals.

“What? Shifty? Are you saying Stan turned into this elephant seal right here?”

The other elephant seal groaned, a grumbling, braying sound.

“Elephant seal,” Shifty repeated. His high voice sounded comical coming from such a blubbery monster. “I like being an elephant seal. I’ve never been this big before.”

This was a disaster. Ford had never intended to have Shifty turn into such a volatile creature. “I’m afraid elephant seals are too big to be in the house, Shifty. Would you please turn into something smaller?”

“But how come Stan gets to be an elephant seal?” Shifty complained as he morphed into Arthur Read, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“I don’t want him to be an elephant seal either,” said Ford. “Stan? Can you try to turn back? What were you messing with, you know a lot of the artifacts I keep are cursed.”

Stan made a series of grunting seal noises, none of which were in the least helpful.

Ford sighed aggravatedly. “What happened before he turned into an elephant seal, Shifty?”

“Well, we were gonna build a blanket fort, so we got some blankets out of a trunk, then I put one of the blankets on my head and pretended I was a ghost, and Stan did too, only he used the -”

“The sealskin?” asked Ford. “The heavy one with the decorative beading?”

“I think so. He turned into an elephant seal after he put it on.”

“But that one’s cursed!” said Ford. “This is not good. We need to turn him back soon, or he’ll stay an elephant seal forever.”

Stan let out a series of angry honks and grumbles which, if translated to English, would probably be the kind of language Ford would not want Shifty repeating.

As it was, Shifty shrank into a field mouse, his ears meekly tucked behind his head. “What can we do?” he asked. “How do we change him back?”

“I’ll need to consult my journal,” said Ford. “I think I found a curse breaking spell somewhere . . .”

Ford tried to flip through journal 2 quickly, but had to pause every time Shifty climbed up to his shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of the pages.

“Cut it out, Shifty,” he said, setting Shifty back on the ground for the third time. “You’re slowing me down, and time is of the essence.”

“Why don’t you trust me?” asked Shifty.

“Come now, you know my journals are off limits,” said Ford. “Why don’t you make sure Stan doesn’t wreck the coffee table, hmm?”

A few minutes later, Ford found the page he was looking for. “Vis maleficiis expello. Fundere atque fugare in pacem. Purgare. Purgare. Purgare,” he chanted over Stan’s blubbery form.

Nothing happened.

Ford rechecked the journal entry. “Did I miss something? Let me try that again.”

The second attempt was no better than the first.

“This curse is clearly more malignant than I thought,” said Ford. “A simple spell is simply not up to the task. We’ll need to try something with a little more oomph to it.”

“Can I help?” asked Shifty.

“You can,” said Ford, “by waiting very patiently in your room while I take Stan to meet an acquaintance of mine.”

“But I can do more!” Shifty protested. “I’m sure I can.”

“I’m sorry, Shifty, but I’m afraid the risk is too great.”

“But what if he gets stuck as an elephant seal forever and it’s all my fault?”

“Shifty . . .” Ford was surprised Shifty had developed such an attachment to Stan, and a sense of responsibility. Though as far as Ford was concerned, it was entirely unwarranted. “I don’t blame you for any of this. If Stan had been more careful -” Stan snorted at that - “or if I had clearly labeled which items were cursed,” Ford conceded, “that is to say, this was just an accident. You don’t need to feel guilty.”

Shifty seemed to accept that, “But I still want to help. If you let me go with you, I promise I’ll be good. I’ll do what you tell me, I promise.”

Ford shook his head. “Shifty, it really will be more of a help if I’m not having to watch out for you while we’re undoing the curse. Don’t worry, I’ve dealt with phenomena far more malignant than this. Why don’t I refill your octahedron puzzle, hmm?” It was one of Shifty’s favorites. “By the time you’re done with it, we’ll be back, and Stan will be in his right shape again.”

Once Ford had started a reluctant Shifty on his puzzle, and gathered a few materials he thought might be helpful for curse breaking, Ford and Stan started hiking over to the lake. Well, Ford was hiking. Stan was doing more of a hobble. Ideally they would drive over, but the El Diablo wasn’t built to cart around elephant seals, and Stan wasn’t too keen to try.

“We’re going to summon a siren I’ve had some dealings with,” Ford explained to Stan. At his questioning look, Ford added, “She’s safe, don’t worry. We may have had . . . some miscommunications, at first, but we’re on good terms. Doripea’s been an excellent source of information. I just hope she’s not too busy.”

To their good fortune, she wasn’t. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite gentleman caller,” Doripea greeted Ford. Her angular face and pointed ears add to the mischievousness of her grin, aided in its brightness by the afternoon sun reflecting off her turquoise scales. “Here for another interview date?”

“Ah, sort of?” said Ford.

Stan’s snorts sounded an awful lot like laughter.

“Oh, I figured out Ford was gay pretty quickly,” she told Stan, apparently in response to a comment Ford hadn’t been able to understand. “What I couldn’t figure out was why he kept trying to summon me with a suitor’s call.”

Ford groaned. “The summoning instructions in Eatherena Aquatica didn’t specify -” He was cut off by Stan’s repeated laughter. “Anyway, I was hoping I could get your input, Doripea. You see, we’re in a bit of a pickle.”

“Aside from the shapeshifter stalking you?”

“What?” Ford whirled around, zeroing in on a deer which had frozen in place with a wide-eyed, panicked expression. “Shifty, I told you to stay in your room!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” cried the deer. “I just wanted to make sure Stan was okay! Please don’t hate me.”

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Ford realized he wasn’t wearing a mask, meaning Shifty could now take his form if he wanted. Who knew how many people or dangerous animals Shifty had come across while tailing them to the lake? How could Ford possibly do damage control on this?

“You don’t have to panic,” said Shifty. “I said I’d be good if you let me come. I’ll do what you tell me, just please, I couldn’t just wait around doing nothing.”

“Amazing,” said Doripea. “You tamed it. I didn’t even know their kind could talk.”

Ford turned to her, curiosity suddenly overcoming his concern. “You’ve seen other shapeshifters before?”

She shrugged. “Not in a long time. It’s been, what, a century and a half? I saw it come out of its burrow to feed every now and then, but for the most part it kept to itself, I think.”

“Strange,” said Ford. “Shifty has tested well when it comes to social behaviors. It’s hard to determine such things with only one extant specimen, but I would’ve guessed his kind to be pack hunters.”

“As far as I know, only one of them has existed at a time. Can’t pack hunt without a pack,” said Doripea.

“Hmm.” Ford would have to examine the implications of this later, but for now, “Shifty, you can stay, as long as you keep close to me and stay in deer form unless I tell you otherwise, got it?”

“Okay.”

“Now, Dora, the reason I came to call on you. My brother here mishandled the selkie’s revenge and I was hoping you could help me change him back to human form.”

“How long has he been in seal form?”

“No more than two hours.”

“Oh good, you caught it early. Stan, you don’t feel any strong urges to swim in this lake, do you?”

To Stan’s grunts she replied, “Well, if you get any, resist them. This curse is designed to turn you into an elephant seal in mind as well as body. Swimming in the water will kick start that process. You’ll be drawn to the other elephant seals, and before you know it you’ll be on the wrong side of a territorial beachmaster. You’re lucky we’re so far inland, and that it isn’t mating season.”

“I tried a simple curse breaking spell, and when that didn’t work I thought we would need something more specialized.”

“You got that right, Stanford. Did you bring any material we could use as a taglock?”

Ford nodded and produced some hair he’d removed from Stan’s hairbrush. Doripea listed a few other ingredients, some of which Stanford had on him, and another she could harvest from the bottom of the lake. She sent them off to gather cedar leaves while she retrieved it.

“See, Shifty, you had nothing to worry about,” Ford reassured him as the three of them set off on their short trek through the forest. “With Doripea’s help, Stan will be back to normal in no time. You didn’t need to break out of your room.”

“I guess,” said Shifty. “It’s just that you and Stan never let me go anywhere. And maybe I didn’t have to come, but now that I’m here, it’s not so bad. Why do you think I’m so dangerous?”

Ford hesitated. How wise was it, to let Shifty know how powerful his shapeshifting abilities were? How easily they could be misused? How much of Shifty’s good behavior was due to his innocence?

Before he could start parsing out his answer, something caught his eye. “Look, there! A cedar grove. Shifty, why don’t you change into bird form and help me gather the leaves?”

Shifty was sufficiently distracted by leaf collecting for the time being. But as they made their way back to the lake with their spoils, something seemed off about Stan. He would stop moving periodically, his head cocked to the east. Then he would shake his head and catch up with Ford and Shifty.

The third time Stan stopped, Ford asked, “What is it, Stanley?” but Stan didn’t seem to hear him. Instead he took off in the eastern direction.

“What are you doing?” asked Ford, running alongside him. “That’s not the way back to the lake!”

“He can’t help it!” said Shifty as he glided through the air above them, still in bird form. “Something is drawing him that way!”

“The river,” Ford realized. “It must be closer to this spot than the lake is! We can’t let him get in the water!”

“Can I turn into an elephant seal now?” asked Shifty, and he whooped gleefully when Ford gave his assent. With an extra burst of speed, Shifty flew several feet ahead of them, then dropped to the ground in elephant seal form. The two bull seals collided, and Stan looked even more frenzied as he tried to evade this new obstacle.

“Stan, don’t hurt him!” cried Ford. “You know Shifty, he doesn’t want to hurt you! Stan, look at me, you know you can’t get in the water! Snap out of it!”

Stan paid no attention to this. Clearly the call of the water was too strong. Was Stan hearing the water? Were there lower vibrations from the gallons of rushing water that elephant seals could pick up, but humans couldn’t? Ford could only think of one way to find out.

Grateful he’d thought to bring an infrasonic transducer, Ford quickly set it to the needed specifications. “Shifty, cover your ears!” cried Ford, demonstrating with his hands.

Shifty found a hole in the ground to duck his head into, just in time for Ford to press the button. Ford couldn’t tell by the sound if it worked or not, because it was far too low for human ears to detect. But Stan let out a cry and dropped to the ground, rubbing his head in the dirt.

“I’m sorry, Stan,” Ford said to the writhing elephant seal. “It was the only thing I could think of.”

“He’s mad at you,” said Shifty, pulling his head out of the ground. “But at least he’s not crazy anymore.”

“And what about you? Are you hurt?” Ford asked Shifty.

“I’m okay. It was kind of fun, wrestling like elephant seals.”

Ford sighed, relieved that Stan had snapped out of his frenzy, and that Shifty was unharmed. “You did very well, Shifty, thank you. I suppose it was good you came after all.”

Shifty turned into a dog, the way he always did when he was happy, and moved as if to lick Ford’s hand, but he paused. “Sorry, I didn’t ask if I could change -”

“It’s all right, Shifty,” Ford assured him. “You got excited. It happens.”

For the rest of their hike, Ford kept his infrasonic transducer handy, just in case the sound of the water got to Stan again. Luckily he didn’t need it. Doripea helped him grind all their gathered ingredients into a thick paste, which they applied to Stan’s body. Then, and only then, was Stan allowed to get in the lake. Ford couldn’t think of a time he’d been happier to see Stan’s face as he watched his brother resurface from the lake. He helped Stan wring his wet clothes out and put them on, then hugged him, unconcerned about getting soaked himself.

That evening, the three of them all ate dinner together, something they’d never done before, since Stan and Ford had always worn masks around Shifty. Eating at the dinner table was new for Shifty, but he took to table manners well enough. Ford could tell it would take some doing to cure him of talking with his mouth full, though.

“Why didn’t you want me to see your mouths and your noses?” Shifty asked around a mouthful of beef.

“We were trying to protect our identities,” said Ford.

“What’s an identity?”

“Your identity is, well it’s who you are? How do I explain this . . .”

“Let me show you something,” said Stan. He ducked into his room briefly and came out with a shoebox. He pulled a few driver’s licenses out of it. “These are fake IDs. Basically they tell everyone that I’m someone I’m not. They’re lies. And they’re illegal.”

“What’s ‘illegal?’” asked Shifty.

“Only the fun stuff, kid.” With a look from Ford, Stan added, “Kidding, I’m kidding! Lots of illegal things can hurt people. Like killing, that’s bad. So the government will punish you for doing those things. If I stole someone else’s ID, I could steal their money, or do bad things under their name, so they would get in trouble and not me. It’s called identity fraud, and humans take it very seriously.”

“So that’s why we didn’t want you to see any human faces,” said Ford. “Because stealing someone’s identity like that is wrong. Do you understand?”

Shifty nodded. “You don’t want me to lie and pretend like I’m a human.”

“Exactly,” said Ford. “You’ve seen our faces now, so it can’t be helped. But if you want to meet other humans, we need you to promise you won’t take their forms, all right?”

“Okay, I promise,” said Shifty. “I won’t turn into you, or Stan, or any other humans. I won’t lie.”

Ford realized he had every confidence Shifty would keep his word.

The following week went much more smoothly, now that Stan and Ford didn’t have to wear masks so much and could take Shifty with them on field expeditions and into town. It started to feel like Shifty was a third, junior member of their team.

Shifty made it clear he thought of it differently, when one night he asked Ford, “Are you my dad?”

Surprised, Ford put down the Little Critter book he’d been reading to Shifty. He shifted uncomfortably at the beseeching look from the red eyes of Shifty’s true form, which he always reverted to when tired or sleeping. “Ah, not biologically, no. I assume you’re referring to my social role as your caregiver?”

“Yeah. You tuck me in at night, like Little Critter’s dad. And we play during the day, and you take care of me. We love each other.”

Ford was surprised at Shifty’s word choice. He’d always found Shifty interesting, at least, and Ford couldn’t deny he’d become quite invested in Shifty’s welfare, but love? How did you quantify such a thing? How did Shifty even know what that meant?

“Isn’t that how human families work?” asked Shifty.

“I - yes, I suppose. I’m afraid it’s not my area of expertise. I never expected to make a human family of my own. I’m still just trying to be a better brother to Stanley.” Ford adjusted the cushion he sat on, next to the opening of the den Shifty preferred to sleep in, rather than a more traditional bed. “But you, Shifty, you’re not human. Why would you want a human family?”

“I dunno. I thought it would make me happy. We don’t have to be family if you don’t want to.”

Shifty curled around himself, rolling deeper into his den, and Ford felt his heart sink. “I do want you to be happy,” he told Shifty. And that was when he knew Shifty had become more than an experiment to him. He had more than a scientific interest in helping this creature learn and grow. He had felt that way for a long time. “You can call me Dad if you want.”

“Really?” Shifty scrambled out of his den, morphing into a dog as he went. His paws rested on Ford’s shoulders, and he nuzzled his soft, furry head into Ford’s neck. Ford reflexively hugged him back, stroking his pelt. “Thanks, Dad.”

The enormity of it hit him then. He was a father now. Another being depended on him, loved him. He was Shifty’s whole world. And Shifty was his.

Ford hugged him tighter. “I love you, Son,” he said.

“I love you, too. Dad.” said Shifty.

When Shifty called him Dad the next morning at breakfast, Stan raised his eyebrows. “Shifty’s your kid, now?” he asked Ford.

“Last night, I asked if I could call him Dad, and he said yes,” Shifty informed him.

“Really?”

Ford tugged at his collar. “Well, he is a sapient child whom I have grown to care and take responsibility for, so. It is appropriate.”

“Huh. Well, Shifty, if Ford’s your dad, that makes me your fun uncle!” He clapped Shifty on the back. “It’s Uncle Stan from now on, all right, kid?”

Shifty smiled back with Little Critter’s buck-toothed grin. “Okay, Uncle Stan.”

“Mazeltov, Sixer!” said Bill. He summoned some lavender balloons that read, ‘It’s a shapeshifter!’

“Thank you, Bill.”

“Hey, I’m just grateful you’re able to make time for me now you’re a working parent and all.”

“I’m sorry, Bill. I know between Shifty and not having the mechanical help I need -”

Bill waved off his excuses. “I told you, a solution for that is in the works. I just don’t want you getting lost in the weeds with individual specimens while your Grand Unified Theory goes unpublished!”

“Yes, of course. I’ll try harder.”

“And anyway, once you get the portal up and running, you’ll be able to find the dimension Shifty comes from. Think of how much you could learn about his species then! Things you should probably know if you’re trying to raise one of them.”

Ford hung his head. “You’re right. When it comes to figuring out Shifty, and what he needs . . . I’m stumbling around in the dark. He’d probably be happier if we made contact with some of his own kind . . .”

“Yeah, well, for now he’s stuck with you, isn’t he? With any luck, he won’t end up resenting you the way you do your dad, right?”

“Of course not! I would never treat him the way our dad treated us.” Despite his indignation, Ford was forcefully reminded of the inhumane way he’d treated Shifty all of a few weeks before, and was ashamed.

Bill clapped a reassuring hand on his back. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll do your best, Sixer.”

The deep midnight blue of the mindscape abruptly faded away, and another voice called out to Ford.

“Get out of his head!”

“Shhh, Shifty, let him sleep, he never takes a minute to rest like this . . .”

Ford opened his eyes and found Shifty in the form of a badger, scrambling to get out of Stan’s grasp. “Dad!” he said. “Did you tell the monster to go away?”

“He thinks something was attacking your brain while you were asleep,” Stan explained.

Ford shook himself awake, annoyed at himself for messing up his schedule like this. He’d only meant to sit on the couch for a minute or two . . . “Come here, Shifty,” he said, and extended his arms to Stan, who handed Shifty over.

Ford stroked his pelt and assured him, “I’m fine. Nobody was trying to hurt me. I was simply speaking with my Muse.” Really, it was quite extraordinary that Shifty seemed able to sense Bill’s presence. “Sometimes he enters my dreams and helps with my research. It’s nothing to worry about.”

Shifty looked unconvinced. “He made you feel bad. Bad shame wrong. He’s yucky.”

Ford gave an explanation that was close enough to the truth. “We were just talking about some of the obstacles setting back my project. It’s not his fault. How could you tell what I was feeling when I was asleep, anyway?”

Shifty looked confused. “You . . . smelled? No, not a smell. I just felt the, you know, the little waves, they tell you what the feelings are. I can’t feel them when I’m asleep, but I was awake. You were asleep.”

“You have a psychic sense for other people’s emotions?” asked Ford. Of course he did. Looking back, it was so obvious. Shifty had always been so confident when talking about how people felt. Ford really should have noticed sooner. “And that’s how you could sense my Muse’s presence?”

“Yes? Is that not something humans can do?”

Ford shook his head. “We can read facial expressions and body language, but otherwise, the only way we can tell how someone is feeling is if they tell us.”

“Is that why you didn’t trust me at first? Because you couldn’t tell I didn’t want to hurt you?”

“Well, yes,” Ford admitted. “I didn’t realize you were a sapient being and I didn’t know what your abilities were, or how you wanted to use them. So I kept you locked up. I’m sorry.”

“Oh. I thought I had done something wrong. I tried to be good.”

“Oh, Shifty . . .” Ford hugged him closer. “You are good. You’re a wonderful kid. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.”

Shifty must have sensed how guilty Ford felt, because he said, “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know. I know you love me now.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t deserve to be mistreated,” Stan cut in. “You don’t have to take care of Ford’s feelings. He’s a grown up. We should take care of yours.”

“You’re right, Stan,” Ford agreed. “I know we’re at a disadvantage, Shifty, when it comes to supporting you emotionally. I’m bad at dealing with feelings, even by human standards. But I’ll do my best for you. Will you tell me your feelings so I can help you?”

“Okay,” said Shifty. “I wish you had always been my dad. I wish you had never been mean.”

“Me too,” said Ford.

“I’m glad you said sorry, though. I still love you, anyway.”

“I love you, too,” Ford assured him.

“And I still don’t like your muse. He’s mean, and he’s sneaky.”

“I’m not sure I like him either,” Stan concurred. “When you first told me about him, I didn’t really take it seriously. I’m sorry, it was just really weird. But if Shifty can sense him, and he’s actually real, well, all that stuff you said, about how he only picks one brilliant mind a century and all that? If I were trying to con you, that’s exactly the angle I’d go for.”

“But he’s not a con,” Ford said reflexively. “I don’t think I did a good job of explaining him. If you met him in person, you’d see, Bill is amazing.”

“No no no no no,” said Shifty. “I don’t want him in my head! Promise me you won’t let him in my head.”

“Okay, I promise,” said Ford, alarmed by how much this agitated Shifty. “He won’t hurt you, he won’t hurt any of us. Ever.”

Shifty was still wary, but he accepted Ford’s comfort. Ford could tell Stan had more to say on the subject, though, and he did, after Ford had put Shifty to bed.

“Ford, I’m just saying, your mind is a powerful thing. Letting some supernatural creature inside it is no small potatoes. Whatever you’re getting out of this arrangement you got, make sure he’s not short changing you.”

“Of course he’s not! Look, Stan, if you want to see the truth for yourself, there’s a simple spell you can use to follow him into my mind, next time he’s there. You’ll see, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“All right,” Stan said tentatively. “I might do that. But just ask yourself this, Ford, what is this Bill guy getting out of this? Why does he want you to build the portal so badly?”

“Well that’s simple, he . . .” Ford realized he’d never asked Bill that question before, and he’d never volunteered the information himself. But clearly that just meant his motives were pure, right? “He’s a being of the mind, Stan. Scientific discovery is its own reward.”

“Are you serious?” asked Stan. “You’ve never questioned anything he’s said, have you? I thought you were smarter than that.”

Anger flared in Ford, quick and intense. “You have no idea what the hell you’re talking about! This is just like you, to barge into things you don’t understand -”

“Hey, don’t try to turn this around on me. I’m just looking out for you, like I’ve been doing since day one.”

“I can think of at least one glaring exception.”

“Seriously, Stanford? Are you going to hold that one mistake over me for the rest of my life?”

“It just shows you have a history of ruining my work right when it’s about to pay off. You never cared about the things that are important to me, you’re only interested in chasing your cheap thrills.”

“I never cared about what was important to you? I thought I was important to you! You think I went to prison in three different countries just for the fun of it? I did what I had to, just to survive. Which I’ve had to do for over ten years, while you never bothered to stick your nose out of a book long enough to check on your brother.”

Ford’s seething response melted away at the thought of Stanley shivering, Stanley hungry, Stanley alone. “Stanley, I - I didn’t mean to imply that I don’t care about you. These past weeks with you have meant the world to me. You’re right. I should’ve tried to reconnect with you sooner, and - and I shouldn’t still be blaming you for something you did in high school.”

Stan’s gaze shifted down to his feet. “It wasn’t that I didn’t care about your perpetual motion machine. I really didn’t mean to break it, and I should’ve owned up to what I did and told you instead of trying to fix it myself. I may not understand everything about this portal, but I really do want to help you. It’s just that this Bill guy seems fishy to me.”

“And I told you, you have a chance to talk to him yourself. Will you at least try to keep an open mind about him until then?”

“I will, if you try to keep your mind open to the idea that he may not be what he seems.”

“I . . . suppose that’s fair.”

“Now will you please get some sleep? Between the kid and the portal you’ve been running yourself ragged.”

“It’s not so bad as all that.” Ford tried to shrug it off. “I think if I change the alignment on the oscillator I might get a better charge on the clux fapacitor -”

“It can wait until tomorrow.”

“It won’t take that long to test out. Anyway, I got a nap in earlier, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, a ‘nap.’ Looked more like you passed out from sheer exhaustion. You definitely need more sleep.”

“I can sleep when I’ve published my Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness.” And with that, Ford escaped to the basement before Stan could respond.

Ford didn’t want to admit it, but this whole business unsettled him. Stan was the one person he trusted best in all the world, but Bill was his Muse, the one who not only saw what Ford could be, but gave him the tools to achieve it. Now the two seemed to be setting themselves against each other. Ford didn’t want to think of what the outcome would be, should he be forced to choose between them. He could only hope it wouldn’t come to that.

Read the next work in this series

[whitecatindisguise]

So this is a request from PeaceandLove375 on AO3. Basic summary: The Stabbington brothers decide the best way to get revenge on Eugene is kidnapping someone he cares about. The Princess is too well-protected, so they go after... more available target.

Hop along, fasten your seatbelts and let’s go!

------

“What do you mean, escaped?” Eugene shrieked, his voice trembling with both terror and anger. He wasn’t sure which one was stronger at the moment, as he stared at the wide-open door to the empty cell.

“I am terribly sorry, Captain.” The guard stationed in this particular part of the dungeons, Eugene faintly remembered his name being Dave, shrunk and dropped his head in embarrassment. “I heard screaming, it seemed to be some kind of emergency. One of them knocked me out the moment I stepped in to see what’s going on.”

Eugene let out a deep sigh and run a hand through his hair. He cast one more look at the empty room and faced his subordinate.

“Let it be a lesson for you to always be on guard around the prisoners.” He said with a grim face. “Especially as dangerous as those two.”

He quickly turned on his heel and left the guilty guard alone on his post. He had more important things to take care of. Only few minutes later, most of the guards were put on high alert, searching the city for the escapees.

Eugene leaned over the map, his eyes jumping from one place to the other.

“Come on. If I were an escapee from the royal dungeons, where would I go?” He muttered, gripping his chin thoughtfully.

“Eugene?” A female voice called from the doorway and he froze. He spun around, meeting concerned green eyes of his wife. Rapunzel reluctantly stepped inside, closing the distance between them. “What’s going on? The guards are all over the place. Did something happen?”

The Captain sighed and pushed away from the map. He turned his gaze away, not wanting for her to see his fear.

“Two of the prisoners escaped.” He replied vaguely. “We’re looking for them now. No need to worry.”

“Escaped? Who?” Rapunzel sounded more concerned than she was a moment before. “You wouldn’t alert the whole guard if they weren’t too dangerous.”

Eugene still refused to meet her eyes, afraid of what she would say if he told her the truth. He felt her grabbing his hands and giving them a light squeeze.

“Eugene, please.” She pleaded and he dared to spare a glance in her direction. She was concerned, but it was for him. He sighed and turned to face her.

“It’s the Stabbingtones.” He finally revealed. He noticed her flinch slightly at the name but she didn’t release her hold on his hands. “They.... Sunshine, what if they go for you? What if they do something to you and I can’t protect you?”

“Shh, it’s okay. I‘m here.” She reached out one hand and brushed his cheek tenderly. “Besides, I don’t think they would try to kidnap the Princess.” She pointed out. “They are bound to know I am almost always surrounded by guards. No need to worry.”

“You... you’re right.” Eugene nodded and smiled. “I guess I am being overprotective.”

Just then, the door to the room blasted open and two guards rushed inside.

“Captain, we believe we have something!” Pete called out, Stan nodding in agreement.

“Someone saw the Stabbingtons stealing horses and riding off in the direction of Old Corona.” Stan added. Eugene’s blood ran cold. Old Corona. This was where-

“Ready the horses! We’re moving out now!” He barked the order, already moving to the stables.

Please, please let me be wrong. He pleaded, as he jumped onto Max and led his men the same direction the prisoners were seen going.

~~~~~~

Varian, for once, wasn’t in his lab. After several days of constant work his dad had finally put his foot down and demanded he go out and get some fresh air. Although with some reluctance, the teen finally gave in. He scooped up Ruddiger and decided to take a stroll through the nearby forest.

He had to agree, there was something about it, as he passed the trees. The weather was just right, and there was no one in sight. Perfect for clearing one’s mind and relaxing.

He was so enthralled by the nature, he didn’t realise he wasn’t alone, until Ruddiger tensed and started hissing from his spot on his shoulders. He turned around confused, and almost immediately ducked, as a large fist swooped where moments ago his head was.

He stumbled away, fearfully looking at the two large man standing in front of him. They looked very similar, like brother or even twins. They both had red hair and scars, one of them wearing an eye patch over his left eye.

“Wh-Who are you? What do you want?” He asked, taking another step back as they approached. Ruddiger’s claws were digging into his skin, the raccoon hissing angrily.

“Rider cares about you, doesn’t he?” One of them asked, as they continued their approach, Varian backing away fearfully.

“Rid- Do you mean Eugene? But who-?” His eyes suddenly widened in realisation, as something clicked in his mind. “You’re Stabbington brothers...” He breathed out, shaking. His back suddenly hit something and he turned to see a bark of tree.

He didn’t have time to move away, as the men closed the distance and towered over the trembling boy.

“Oh, so you know who we are.” One of the brothers mused and grinned, leaning over the teen.

“As for your second question...” The other reached out and grabbed Varian’s shirt, lifting him effortlessly. The alchemist yelped in surprise and tried to squirm away. “We want revenge. And what better way to get revenge than going after someone Rider cares about?”

Varian froze, his blood running cold. They were... they wanted to hurt, maybe even kill him just to get revenge on Eugene.

Before he could manage any kind of response, Ruddiger jumped from his shoulders with a cry, angrily clawing at the man who held the teen. Surprised, the Stabbington let go of the alchemist’s shirt and Varian fell down, barely managing to stay on his feet. He stumbled away quickly, calling for the raccoon.

“Ruddiger!” He cried, as he dug his pockets for something he could use. His fingers closed on the circular object and he took it out, noticing what it was.

Without further thought, he threw the bomb at the criminals, smoke covering the area almost instantly.

“Ruddiger, we have to-!” He stopped mid-sentence as he saw the animal flying out of the smoke and hitting the bark of the nearby tree. He let out a shriek and ran up to the fallen raccoon, eyes watering. ‘R-Ruddiger!” His hands trembled over the animal, afraid to touch it. He wasn’t moving, Varian noticed with terror.

He was about to call out again, when he felt someone grabbing him by the collar and lifting in the air.

“No, let go! Ruddiger!” He trashed in the hold, as one of the brothers managed to grab him more securely, pinning his hands to his sides. “Let me go!”

“Oh, shut up, brat.” Was the response he got before he felt a sharp pain at the back of his head, causing him to cry out. His vision blacked out almost immediately and he fell limp in the captor’s hold.

“And now... to send the message to Rider.” One of the brothers laughed.

~~~~~~

It took an hour to get to Old Corona. A long hour Eugene spent on imagining the darkest scenarios of what they would find, when they finally get there. They varied from the bloodied corpse of Varian, to the whole village slaughtered and left out to bleed.

He was as tense as he could be, when the first houses finally came into view. The village looked as calm as always, but he knew better. He quickly ordered the guards to split up and look for the Stabbingtones, motioning Max in the direction of Varian’s house.

He shifted his feet nervously, as he waited for someone to open the door. The more time passed, the more dark thoughts occupied him. He was just about to knock again, when  the door opened to reveal a large man.

“Quirin.” Eugene breathed out a sigh of relief as he saw the man. “Is Varian home?”

Please, say yes. Please, say yes. Please, say-

“No. I told him to get some air. He’s been scooped in his lab for days now.” The reply made the younger man froze. He wasn’t home... He wasn’t.

“Do you... do you know where he might be?” He tried to sound nonchalant but the older man seemed to understand something is off and gave him a quizzical look.

“He usually goes to the forest near the village. Is something-?” He didn’t manage to finish the question, as the Captain already spun on his heel and marched towards the trees. Quirin scratched his head in confusion as he observed the other man quickly disappearing between the trees, Max following close after.

Eugene came to an abrupt stop, as his ears picked on the familiar sound. He turned around a few times, before finally determining the direction it came from and almost running.

He came out to the clearing and his eyes almost immediately noticed a small grey figure slowly rising under one of the trees. He ran up and fell to his knees, scooping the hurt raccoon in his arms.

“Ruddiger. What happened? Where is Varian?” He questioned, noticing a trail of dried blood at the back of the animal’s head. He must have been thrown and hit the tree to gain such an injury.

Ruddiger chittered weakly, seeming sad. Eugene stood up and that was when he noticed a note pinned to the tree with a dagger. A very familiar dagger.

He tore the paper down, his eyes sliding over the words, feeling colder and colder with each sentence he read.

“Varian...” He breathed out, letting the note fall to the ground, his heart dropping. Ruddiger chittered sadly in his arms and Eugene hugged the raccoon closer. “Don‘t worry, buddy. We’re going to get him back. I promise.”

~~~~~~

Varian came to the sound of rushing water and wind howling in his ears. He groaned and tried to use his hands to push himself up, only to find them unable to move from his sides.

His eyes widened and he shot up, suddenly aware of the situation. He was abducted by the Stabbington brothers in the forest and knocked out, which meant he was now-

“Oh, look who finally decided to wake up, brother.” He heard a menacing voice and turned around to see the brothers sitting on a nearby rock, their lips turned into grins.

“What- What are you going to do with me?” He asked, his voice trembling in fear. He heard enough of the two from both Eugene and Rapunzel, to know they were extremely dangerous.

“We were thinking of throwing you off the cliff once Rider gets here.” One of them answered and Varian was both baffled by the truthful response and terrified by the idea. “I think it’s a good idea, don’t you, brother?”

“I have a better one.” Suddenly a familiar voice called out and Varian looked up to see Eugene standing few feet away, sword raised and brows furrowed. “Let Varian go and you will only be accused of escape and kidnapping, instead of adding murder to the list.”

For a mere moment, Varian dared to hope the Stabbingtons will give in. Everyone in Corona knew what was the fate that awaited murderers. At the least, they would be sentenced to lifetime in Royal Mines. At the worst....

A deep laugh cut the silence and the alchemist saw the Stabbington brothers shaking as they laughed loudly.

“Good one, Rider.” The one with the eyepatch said, the grin never leaving his face.

“Name’s Eugene.” The Captain replied through grit teeth, correcting the grip on his sword. “And I mean every word I said. Let the kid go.”

“You want us to let him go?” The other brother cocked his head and reached his large hand to grab Varian by his shirt. The teen yelped as he was yanked up and moved back, suddenly very aware of the lack of ground underneath and the wind tugging at his clothes.

“NO!” Eugene cried, one hand reaching out to the boy, taking a step in his direction.

“Well, undecided, are you?” The man laughed, releasing his grip slightly, enough for Varian to feel it.

The alchemist’s eyes widened in horror and he tried to squirm away, the rope tying his arms not helping in the slightest. He shot a terrified glance to Eugene, his eyes pleading.

“So, what will it be, Rider?” The large man asked, grinning. “Do you want me to let him go?”

Eugene grit his teeth in frustration and dropped his head, shaking it. The man’s grin widened and he pulled the boy away from the ridge.

“Thought so.” He said.

“What do you want?” Eugene asked, his eyes glancing between the brothers and Varian, still held in their grip.

“Revenge, Rider.” Came the reply, malicious as ever. “We want you to see how powerless you are, captain title or not.”

“Look, you’re angry with me, I get it.” The Captain tried to reason. “But it’s me you have business with, not Varian. He has nothing to do with it.”

“Oh, he has everything to do with it.” The eyepatch brother seethed. “You see, it’s not enough for us to kill you. We want you to look as we kill someone you care about, knowing you were powerless to stop us!”

There was shouting behind him, and Eugene knew the other guards were coming. He was running out of time. There was no way, the Stabbingtons were going to sit and wait until the rest of the guards get here, before trying anything. This would cut out their escape route, and they weren’t going to risk it.

Sparing a glance towards Max, he nodded his head slightly, hoping the horse would understand the message. The shouting was getting louder, signalling his men were close by. He hoped Max can hold the brothers long enough for them to arrive.

“Say goodbye to your friend, Rider.” The one holding Varian laughed before throwing his hand out and pushing the boy from the cliff.

Eugene reacted on instinct. He shot past the Stabbingtons, jumping after the falling teen, hoping to catch him before it will be too late. Varian’s screams filled his ears, as they were getting closer and closer to the end of the fall. Eugene pushed more, reaching out and managing to grab the alchemist moments before water closed around them.

~~~~~~

Eugene coughed as he broke the surface, wet hair covering his vision. He paddled over to the shore, dragging the, hopefully, unconscious body behind him. He them out, sparing only a second to cut the ropes before starting to push the boy’s chest.

Varian was deathly pale, his lips blue and skin cold. But Eugene refused to let any of dark thought overwhelm him.

One. Two. Three. Four.

He silently counted as he pushed on the chest, observing the boy for any signs of waking up. His eyes are getting misty but he still pushed, praying to whatever gods were up there to help him.

Then, after minutes of trying, Varian suddenly gasped and coughed, water spilling from his mouth. Eugene helped him turn over, gently patting his back as the boy spasmed with fits.

He finally stopped coughing and fell back to the ground, breathing heavily. But he was breathing. God, he was breathing.

The blue eyes slowly fluttered open, slowly focusing on the face in front of him.

“Eugene...?” Varian cracked out and the man felt the tears falling down his cheeks as he embraced the boy. “What-?”

“I thought I lost you, kid.” He whispered, pulling him closer to his chest. “Oh, god, I thought.”

“I... we... what...” Varian’s mind swirled to make sense of the situation. Why was he wet? Where were they? Why Eugene was so terri-

His eye widened as he suddenly remembered being pushed over the ridge, the feeling of falling, wind in his ears. Eugene reaching out to him, barely managing to catch him before his back hit the cold water. And then, darkness.

His breath hitched and he gripped the man’s shirt, as the realisation came. He almost died. He almost didn’t make it. He almost-

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Eugene gently whispered to his ear, as he drew circles on his back. Varian trembled, crying into the man’s shirt.

He didn’t know how long they stayed like this. At some point he stopped crying, but didn’t let go of the man, snuggling close to his chest. He heard the other guards coming, the Stabbingtons’ angered shouts and threats in Eugene’s direction. He heard Eugene ordering to take the prisoners to the capital for the trial, felt him gently unhooking his hands from the shirt.

“Varian. Kid.” Eugene called out, the boy still too out of it to react. “Hey, look at me.”

He slowly raised his head, meeting the man’s gaze.

“Do you... do you want me to take you home?” He gently asked. Varian flinched and quickly shook his head.

“Not home.” He whispered, eyes downcast. “I don’t...” He trailed off, unsure how he wanted to continue.

“Okay, not home, got it.” The man nodded, going silent for a moment. “To the castle then? You can sleep in my room today, if you want.”

Varian slowly nodded. Eugene understood. He understood too well.

Without more words, he stood up and led the shaken boy to Max. He helped him up, before jumping to sit behind, securing his arms around him.

He would have to let Quirin know what happened, and that Varian was spending the night at the castle. He’ll send one of the guards with the message, he decided as they rode back towards the capital, the boy silent.

He almost lost him, he remembered as the trees gave way to the houses of Old Corona and then bare road leading to Corona. And this won’t be something either of them is to forget in a long while.

-------

Erm.... I wanted to finish on a slightly more positive note but... The story basically wrote itself and refused to go the way I wanted. And, gosh, it’s probably the longest oneshot I ever wrote! But I regret nothing!

[orikeepitasecret]

Fiddauthor ❝I love you, I love you, I love you!❞ but make it angst.

Y’all keep asking for angst and I have no clue if I’m writing it. Anyway, have this 3,271 word monstrosity. 

Prompt from here. Requests are open!

Read it on AO3

“I love you.” Ford whispers one night, when he and Fidds had drunk far too much. Fidds is sprawled across his lap. He was pretty sure Fiddleford was asleep, the only reason he said it, but there’s hands around his neck, lips crashing against his own, and it leaves Ford breathless.

“I love you too.” Fiddleford murmurs once he pulls away and promptly falls asleep for real.

~*~

“I love you.” Ford whispers, watching Fidds’s rusty old truck start and pull away from Backupsmore University for the last time, taking Fidds away to his future and far away from Ford. They had already decided to go their separate ways as just friends. Ford wonders for a second if he should of foughten to keep Fiddleford a more permanent fixture in his life. The way Fidds’s face had fallen for just a second made him think, now, that he should have. It was too late though. Fiddleford was on his way home to Tennessee and Ford was crossing the country to study anomalies in Oregon. He slips into his own car and turns out of the parking lot he considers following Fidds, but he swallows back his tears and turns right. Ad astra per aspera! He thinks but it feels hollow. 15 minutes later, he has to pull over to cry.

~*~

But I love you, Ford thinks as he holds Fiddleford’s wedding invitation in his hands. There’s a note asking to call him when he receives so he does.

“Ford! It’s so good to hear from you! It’s been to long!” Fidds says brightly when he answers and has been. Ford thinks that the last time they talked had been both left Backupsmore.

“Indeed,” Ford says. “What did you need to talk to me about, buddy? You said it was urgent.”

“Oh, right to the point as ever, Stanford.” Fidds replies and Ford wonders if Fidds is dying as much as he is. “Well then, I was hoping you would be my best man! Say you will, Ford, please?”

“I would be honored, Fiddleford.” Ford says and scrubs away the tears trickling his face. Fiddleford keeps him on the line until there’s a crash in the kitchen and Ford begs off to investigate (it’s those damn gnomes again). Fiddleford wrangles a promise out of him to keep in better touch. He doubts he’ll keep it.

~*~

I still love you Ford thinks as he stands beside Fiddleford and watches Emma Mae walk down the aisle. It’s been burning the back of his throat since he arrived, but his time with Fiddleford had passed and if Fiddleford even wanted to hear him say it he hadn’t given Ford any inclination. That didn’t make it hurt any less.

“You couldn’t ask for a better person to spend your life.” Ford tells Emma Mae in his speech. And it’s true. Fiddleford smiles at him, that special smile that even now is just his and it says I love you too.

~*~

“His name’s Tater Cerium.” Fiddleford tells him proudly and Ford carefully accepts the sleeping baby from him.

“Oh.” Ford murmurs. He had once offhandedly told Fiddleford that Cerium was his favorite element. Fiddleford looks mighty pleased with himself when Ford looks at him with recognition and tears in his eyes. He glances away, down to the baby in his arms. The one that Fidds had named after his favorite element.

“We were hoping you would be his godfather.” Emma Mae says and Ford has to scrub the tears off his face.

“I would be delighted.” Ford says after a long pause. The McGuckets both smile and Ford bounces the baby in his arms, just like he used to bounce Sherman’s baby.

“I love you.” He whispers to Tater, tells him like he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him. And he is.

~*~

He comes back from the store (from the next town over that was larger) with Fiddleford’s banjo strings and microchips, and other necessary provisions, only to find that Fidds had set about cleaning up his house. Fidds grins when he sees him.

“Yer back earlier than I was expectin’, Stanford.” Fiddleford tells him, his eyes gleaming.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Ford tells him and places the grocery bags he’s carrying on the newly clean counters, suddenly embarrassed that he hadn’t thought to clean up before his friend arrived.

“I wanted to.” Fidds tells him and smiles Ford’s smile and any embarrassment Ford feels melts away. He heads back outside to collect the rest of his groceries thinking I love you, I love you, I love you.

It’s nice to be sharing a living space with somebody again, especially when that person is Fiddleford.

~*~

“Why not publish now? Settle down somewhere with a nice girl and start a family?” Fidds asks, his eyes still trained on the stars. Ford doesn’t respond, not until Fiddleford turns and looks at him.

“You were the only one for me, Fidds.” Ford whispers, and he knows Fiddleford heard him. He clears his throat. “Besides, once Gravity Falls becomes mainstream knowledge surely a bunch of other scientists will move out here and one of them could discover the Unifying Theory of Weirdness instead of me and all my work will have been for nothing.”

They’re quiet for a long while, like they used to be in college while talking about plans for the future. Plans that had more thoroughly included them together.

“F, if I had asked you to go with me, would you have?” Ford finally asks. It’s a question that has been nagging at him for years. He hopes Fidds will say “no”, so he can have some closure and move on, even if he’ll never love romantically again. But Fiddleford doesn’t say no. He doesn't say yes either but they both know that's what his answer is. Ford's heart breaks all over again. Fiddleford had wanted him to ask him to come and he had been to much of a coward to make the request. It was far too late now, far, far to late.

“Oh Stanford…” Fiddleford whispers and pulls Ford into a tight hug. Ford doesn’t cry, but it’s a close thing.

~*~

“I love you.” Ford whispers and presses his forehead against the door. He knows it doesn’t matter, that once again it’s too little, too late, and F is gone again. This time for good. The one good thing that's come out of Stan ruining his project and Ford had ruined it himself.

He pushes the door open. The room’s barren, without all of Fiddleford’s pet projects and knick knacks. He collapses on the bed, that’s been carefully made up, as if Fiddleford would be here any minute to go to sleep but he won’t be. Ford curls against Fidds’s pillow and cries. He hadn’t felt so alone since the night Stanley had been kicked out. It’s only the knowledge that he survived Stanley’s betrayal that allows him to survive Fidds’s abandonment. Still, he doesn’t do anything but mope for three days and only stops because he’s too hungry to lie in bed anymore. It’s another two weeks before he returns to the portal, but only after Fidds’s room is converted back into a thinking parlor.  The thought crosses his mind, when he returns to work, if this was how Stanley felt when Ford refused to help him. The thought crushes him. He doesn't get any proper work done that day, but Bill does.

~*~

Fiddleford was right, Ford thinks and thinks and thinks. It’s the only thing he thinks curled up in the bed of the bunker. He can’t remember the reason he came back here, not after seeing Fiddleford’s abandoned laptop and lab coat. They hadn’t come back her after Shif- Experiment #210 had attacked Fiddleford. He clears the dust off the laptop and opens it. An eight letter password, huh? He takes a couple guesses and is surprised to find the password is Stanford. Of course F had always been the sentimental sort and Ford was his first love.

He takes a deep breath and starts to plan. Maybe he can make up with Fidds, convince him to quit this Society of the Blind Eye stuff, once he’s defeated Bill. For now, the future of the world is more important than Fiddleford, even if he was the love of his life.

~*~

Ford gets up from where he landed after coming up on the other side of the portal. He’s not sure he didn’t pass out when he hit, though no time feels like it passed. He turns desperately hoping that the Portal will still be there, still be open so he can find a way to go back through and return home. Clean up the mess he and Stan just made.

It’s not there.

“No…”Ford whispers horrified.

“Stanley?”

There’s no answer.

“Fiddleford?”

There’s still no answer, not that Ford should expect one.

He’s not aware that he’s screaming, begging for Fiddleford or Stanley or anyone to come for him, until he senses the eyes, thousands and thousands of eyes boring into him. Is this what Fiddleford had experienced when he briefly went through? Ford shivers and runs.

~*~

Ford had a ritual at this point for when he was preparing to sleep, one that wasn’t dissimilar to the one he had in his home dimension. He carefully pulled two pictures out of his wearing wallet. One was of him and Fiddleford from college. They were both leaning against Ford’s bed, with Ford almost in Fidds’s lap and F kissing his cheek. It was one of Ford’s favorite pictures that they had taken together and he was glad he had slipped it in his wallet before Stan arrived. The second was an already aging photo of Stan and him on the Stan o’ War. The same one he had been carrying since college.

“I love you.” Ford would whisper and tuck them back away in his wallet. Those two were what gave him the strength to keep going, even though he doubted he would ever see you again.

~*~

Ford feels awful, feels like he's dying. He probably is, considering the amount of blood. He wonders vaguely if it wouldn't be for the best. The thought fizzles out quickly. If he dies here, he'll never stop Bill, never go home, or see Lee and Fidds again. That gives him new strength and slowly pulls himself to at least try to survive this.

~*~

“I don’t wanna go.” Ford admits softly. The Fiddleford of this dimension, the one that belongs in this better world unlike Ford, tusks softly and pulls Ford into a tight hug. It’s such a Fiddleford move, and Ford feels a familiar swell of affection for the man rise up his chest.

“I love you.” He murmurs against his shoulder. And it’s true: he loves him because he loves every Fiddleford that he’s encountered, for their own merits and because they reminded him so much of his own lost love.

“Did you ever tell him that?” This Fiddleford asks. Ford nods against his shoulder. Fidds sighs.

“Wasn’t the best at showing it though…” Ford sobs. Fidds squeezes him and holds him until the tears stop.

“Well go defeat Bill and then go home. Make it up to him. If he’s as much like me as you think he is… he’ll forgive you. I promise.” Fiddleford tells him. Ford grabs onto his words and clings to them. Fiddleford thinks he can defeat Bill and live. Defeat Bill and return home to Fiddleford who might possibly, insanely still love him enough to give him the second chance. Ford smiles faintly at the thought and musters the gun this Fiddleford had helped him construct, that if they’re right will be able to end Bill Cipher once and for all.

He doesn’t look back as he steps through the portal. For the first time in a long time, he’s looked ahead.

~*~

“Stanley, do you know what became of my research assistant? His name is Fiddleford McGucket.” Ford asks evenly, one evening over dinner. Stan and his nibilings exchange looks.

“No.” Stan tells him and even after forty years, his tell when lying to Ford is the same. It might have been slightly amusing if it hadn’t been so vexing.

“Stanley, I have a right to know.” Ford says in a raised voice, the I know you know hangs heavy in the air without him saying it.

“He doesn’t want anything to do with you.” Stan retorts, finally. “I would know.”

Ford’s face falls despite attempts to school it and he quickly excuses himself from the table. If Fiddleford doesn’t want anything to do with him, he’ll respect that for now. He waited thirty years what was a another couple of months. Surely it couldn’t take too long to at least dispose of the rift the Portal created? Bill himself might take more time but he could be excused for wanting to apologize to Fidds after the immediate threat is handled right?

~*~

Ford’s startled awake night to find Mable sitting on the couch by his feet.

“Are you awake, Grunkle Ford?” She whispers.

“Yes, dear.” Ford replies and sits up. “Is something the matter?”

“No. Well, kind of? It’s about Mr. McGucket.” Mable replies.

Ford sits up and flicks on the nearby lamp. He slips on his glasses and stares at his great niece expectedly.

“I think he doesn’t remember you. He founded this crazy cult that erased people’s memories when they saw weird things around here and he was using it on himself. He used it so much he couldn’t remember anything before 1982.” Mable says in a hushed voice, glancing anxiously over her shoulder occasionally.

“I see.” Ford says,

“He’s getting better! Dipper thought he might have been the Author! So we helped him get his memories back and he’s remembering more things! I don’t know if he remembers you yet though…” Mable says.

“Well that’s…  good. It was very nice of your brother and you to help him. Thank you.”

“You really care about him, huh, Grunkle Ford?”

“Yes, he was…” my ex-boyfriend that I am still deeply in love with, even after all this time “my best friend until we had our falling out. I want to make amends with him, or at very least apologize.”

“Well… he lives at the dump right now, if you ever wanna try and slip out to visit him.” Mable tells him. There’s a creek and a muffled groan from somewhere in the house that indicates that Stan is awake for some reason. “I have to go. Don’t tell Grunkle Stan or Dipper I told you, please? They didn’t want you to know.”

Without waiting for a reply, Mable scurries off, carrying a cup of water. Ford sighs as he watches her go and flicks off the lamp, leaving himself surrounded by the dark.

“Oh, Fiddleford…” He whispers. He doesn’t get back to sleep that night.

~*~

Stan seems to know that Ford knows about McGucket now and seems intent on keeping him from “visiting”, and no matter when Ford tries to leave or his best intentions to not allow Stan to draw him into a fight, he never manages to leave.

“Why is it so important that you go see him now? Weren’t you just spouting off about how dangerous it is to leave the Shack because of this Bill guy?” Stan asks when he catches Ford trying to leave his own house at two a’clock in the morning.

“I-” I love him is on the tip of his tongue, but Ford can’t bring himself to say it. He is unsure of how much time has changed here in the last  three decades or how Stan would react.

“I hurt Fiddleford a lot with my actions thirty years ago. I want him to at least now I regret it.”

Stan looks heartbroken for just a millisecond, but before Ford can try to process it, it’s gone, replaced by the quiet rage Stanley leverages against him when he doesn’t want the kids to know they’re fighting again. Ford doesn’t make it out of the house that night, and he doesn’t attempt going to see Fiddleford again.

~*~

“Fiddleford… I--I haven't seen you since we parted ways. You must hate me.” Ford murmurs to his friend once he finally sees him again. It’s hard to believe that this is his Fiddleford, even when he knew he’d been living out of the dump.

Fiddleford shakes his head and smiles, smiles that brilliant smile and Ford feels himself falling head over heels all over again. “I've tried forgettin'. Maybe I should try forgiving. Come here, old friend.”

Fiddleford pulls Ford into a tight hug. Ford can’t remember the last time he and Fiddleford had hugged (maybe upon his arrival in Gravity Falls?) or how good it felt. Tears sprung to his eyes and squeezed Fidds. The moment’s perfect, even if it takes place in Bill’s castle at the end of the world.

“Hey, good to see you too, bro. Now let's get outta here, huh?” Stan interrupts and the moment’s over.

~*~

Watching Fiddleford and the others is the most horrific thing he has ever seen. That’s his Fiddleford Bill’s hurting and it’s all Ford’s fault. In less than an hour, it shifted down to second. Nothing will ever haunt him as much as erasing Stan’s mind.

~*~

“I’m going up to the Arctic to investigate some anomalous reading I’ve been getting.” Ford tells his old friend. The “Come with me” doesn’t cross his lips. Not because he doesn’t want to ask, but him and Fiddleford needed time to recover from the last 30 years, from the things Ford had caused. And even if Fiddleford had any interest in studying anomalies, almost thirty of being homeless hadn’t been good for his health and it would be irresponsible to drag F into the Arctic. Fiddleford studied him from a long moment and set his glass of sweet down on his side table.

“You should ask Stanley to go with you.” Fidds says evenly.

“I will.” Ford promises.

“Good.”

Fiddleford doesn’t pick up his sweet tea again. Instead he gets up and collects his banjo from the other side of the room. Ford is breath taken to realize that it was the same one he had given him for their first anniversary so many years ago.

Fiddleford plays for hours and Ford watches silently, breath taken. Finally, long after the sun’s gone down, Tate troops into the room and tells Fiddleford he ought to go to bed.

“I’ll miss you.” Fiddleford says, in the same tone of voice he had used when they had parted ways at Backupsmore, at the door.

“I know. I’ll miss you too. But I’ll be back next summer.” Ford promises. F still seems upset, and without thinking, Ford leans down to kiss his cheek. He flushes before the actions even over and fleas through the door.

“Next summer, Stanford!” Fidds yells after him.

~*~

They of course see each other quite a few times again before Ford and Stan leave, but the promise shifted into something more with the kiss. It was a promise to try again, next summer.

~*~

Ford had barely made his way back onto solid ground before somebody had flung themselves onto him. Stan had to steady him to keep him from falling, but it was worth it.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” Fiddleford whispers to him.

“I love you too.” Ford replies and it is one of the best moments of his life, especially when Stan and his nibilings join their hug.

[insidious-intent]

Hey! Hope you're having a good day! 🤗 I would like to hear your thoughts on the RNM finale!

Alright! I have my morning breakfast food and beverage here, so let’s do this! Everything is under a cut because this got long. 

- This entire finale was somehow excruciatingly boring? Did anyone else feel that. There was 0 action, -1 adventure, and we didn’t even get Max cosplaying Thor level of entertainment this time.

- The first minute and a half resolves EVERY SINGLE PLOT THREAD FROM LAST WEEK. No bomb goes off, Liz saves the day, Jesse Manes is officially canceled. 

- And then immediately we jump to “a week later” and everyone is fine, no one is worried about physical injuries or how they all almost died. Liz is supposedly taking care of Maria but that can’t be seen because 2 women cannot be shown together for more than 3 seconds at a time. No one else has visited Maria? Her own mother isn’t glued to a chair in her room? Sheriff Valenti isn’t investigating any of this? ANYWAYS. But Michael is there after a week to talk about how he felt. So at least the romance is still alive. 

- So what is a guy to do after having a deeply emotional 1-on-1 with your “could have been dead” girlfriend? Why visit his ex, of course! Malex destroy the toolshed, which bless, at least we can stop talking about that one torture source. But ya know that shed had to also further the plot, skeletons and key and all. 

- Also shoutout to @frenziedblaze for noting how malex had their first time over a shallow grave. I will never unsee that. 

- Max somehow manages to have the same emotional vibes with his girlfriend and his sister. Except he only makes out with one of them. 

- Max manages to be real cute with Jenna (idk how I started supporting this brotp) and gets her to do “undercover” work for him to see what the real handsome ex-fiance wants with Liz. 

- Turns out Diego might be ready to steal Liz’s research instead of convincing her to work with him. So instead of, idk, confronting the guy, or telling Jenna to stall him, or IDK, ASKING ALEX FOR HELP, Max says “blow it all up.” The real upbeat soundtrack to Max physically destroying everything Liz worked on, was a choice. 

- Please note that ep 12 had 3 bombs, which were in play in the first minute of ep 13. And yet, the only space without a bomb (Liz’s lab) is the one that blows up. 

- Meanwhile, in Guerinland, New Mexico - Michael Guerin confesses his love to a woman he has apparently been dating for a year. Said woman ALSO reciprocates his feelings. However, Maria would like to use her powers, which now canonically will no longer make her sick, but Michael cannot sit back and watch Maria fade away (for unknown reasons). So here must the beloveds depart. Ok. 

- On the other side of the set, Michael and Alex are reading a diary written by Secretly Good Guy Tripp Manes, and for some reason Isobel Evans. Please note that Isobel Evans has used about 6 opportunities to comment on the eternal love and joy between Michael and Maria, yet for some reason she’s back on Team Malex, with 0 conversation about wtf happened. Ok. 

- Tripp Manes, much like his future descendant Alex, fell for shiny aliens with great cheekbones and full lips. Can’t blame them. Tripp talks about their connection being “cosmic” and a high pitched scream resonates from malex fandom as Michael and Alex look at each other for a single second. This is all fine. Also Jason Behr in a suit and hat is a sight to behold.

- And we find out nothing about what Nora was building in that shed, but something about the “stowaway” on their ship. Cool. 

- The best and most emotional beat of the episode was the Cameron sisters reuniting. I was sobbing during their conversation. I love them both a lot. Also here’s to Charlie being Isobel’s next love interest. 

- Aliens can’t seem to stop setting Liz’s lab on fire. This time she responds with walking away from Max, who does nothing to stop her or follow up with an apology. Cool. She ends up watching the ocean, and I gotta say I still stan Liz Ortecho. 

- Rosa Ortecho owns my whole heart. And I’m very proud of her telling her mom to screw off, and for deciding to go back to rehab. 

- SPEAKING OF HELENA ORTECHO. The woman who was supposedly scheming since episode 1, and managed to kidnap not 1 but 3 people with no problem whatsoever, was suddenly completely irrelevant again. She was mad that Jesse’s murder coverup will turn him into a hero (and I have some things to say about that considering Rosa’s murder coverup did the opposite). So instead of idk, going back to scheming with Mimi Deluca, Helena is just going to drink her troubles away. Super cool. 

- All of this leading to a beautiful yet tragically brief Kylex moment where Alex confirms that Kyle is his bff, and that Flint is ok and can be redeemed (hear hear). 

- AND THEN WE GET ALEX SINGING. lkajsdflkasdfkjahsdflkjasdlfkjasdf. I was slayed. Tyler’s voice, the face, MICHAEL AND ISOBEL COMING IN TO WATCH. IT WAS EVERYTHING I WANTED FOR MALEX. 

- So of course Michael was like, this sucks, our romance is a tragedy, I don’t even like the song, goodbye. I can’t believe this dude broke up with Alex every single episode of this season, including breaking up with Alex TO HIS DAD, while he was ‘napped.

- BUT ON THE OTHER HAND. GREGORY “LIBERTY” MANES, the bestest brother on the planet, who liberated Alex from his abuser (get it?) sat and watched Alex perform and then clapped when Alex finally made the move and bagged his tiny, blue haired nerd. It was beautiful. I may have cried. 

- FORLEX. 

- BUT WE STILL AREN’T DONE. So the full season long chanting of The Power of Three finally comes to fruition. And even though Isobel is like maybe we should do more research, her 2 bros are like it’s cool! and open the door lock thing. We find out Nora was building a prison(?) for the “stowaway” and the pod squad accidentally release him, only to realize he’s...Max Evans with a better groomed beard. I just. I-

And now we have a potential year and a half wait to see how the 82 other plot threads will be resolved (@booksmartstreetstupid has an amazing list) 

So let us all collectively turn to fanfics to help our sanity, and pray that we all return next year. 

[minijenn]

Universe Falls Chapter 77, Part 1

Ah boy time to start arc 8′s mini arc that everyone keeps forgetting about in the shortest chapter UF has had in a LONG while. Also I wrote this in like, the span of 12 hours so... ya know. Enjoy! (also please don’t read this on here, dumblr won’t carry over how this is SUPPOSED to be formatted so please go read it on Ao3 or FF.net to get the experience of how this chapter is SUPPOSED to look) 

Previous: https://minijenn.tumblr.com/post/190860858504/universe-falls-chapter-76

***

Chapter 77: Adventures in the Multiverse

Part 1: The Nightmare Realm

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GVXNLK EIKW BV ZOX FHISAM UM BFS YINZZ

VY M DZQRVYPHZ SCSJTE MTXLZRT IVHKF 

Within the quiet solitude of his private study in the second sublevel below the shack, Ford had always found that he’d been able to find comfort and solace solely in the simplicity of his own research. Even thirty years ago, the author would frequently retreat to this tranquil space, take a seat in his favorite chair at his favorite desk, and lose himself in his work on the journals, eagerly documenting his latest discoveries within the pages of his trio of journals. Away from the world and awash in his own thoughts, reflections, and recollections, a better place to be some nights than others, especially when it came to the nights when it had still been him sitting at that desk, only with someone else taking the reigns of his mind instead. 

Yet that was far from the case on this particular night as Ford described the latest happenings in the later pages of his lattermost journal. A rather uneventful entry given that the day had been sparse of any supernatural or alien encounters, yet the author still found documenting his thoughts and observations a worthy use of his time all the same. 

Once again I was faced with an all-too familiar question today, one that I’ve been hearing more and more frequently from the children as of late. First it came from Dipper, not surprising given his admirable drive to learn and discover everything and anything he can (not unlike myself when I was younger). Then it came from Steven, likely as a result of the Gems leaving him out of the loop (I’ve come to understand they tend to do that to him from time to time, poor lad). But oddly enough, today it came from Mabel, which admittedly caught me off guard. Perhaps curiosity has been getting the better of all three of them in their recent idle time. Even so, as usual, I had no suitable answer to that inquiry. Sometimes it seems as though I never really will either. 

The author paused his pen, letting out a long sigh as he glanced up from the journal to the flickering candlelight coming from the wick set before him. He’d never been particularly fond of dwelling on the past and yet he constantly found himself doing so all the same whether he wanted to or not. And yet this, like many things he’d been through back in the day, was one lengthy span of time he was far from keen on dwelling on. 

Which was exactly why he tried everything he could to avoid it. And yet that familiar question, whether it was from one of the kids, one of the Gems, or someone else entirely, still always seemed to follow him all the same: 

“Where were you for the past 30 years?”

It’s not that I’m afraid or even that hesitant to discuss any of it. The problem is, I never know how to begin or what to reveal. A lot can happen in the span of 30 years, and in my case, a great deal did happen. Moments of triumph, moments of despair, moments of fear, spread so far and so broad across so many scattered dimensions. Some days it feels as though it’s not over yet, even now that I’m back in the comfort of my own home. It’s hard to say if I’ll ever truly be able to make sense of it all, but… maybe it might be worth the effort to, at the very least, try. 

Try. Try to confront something that he’d been avoiding ever since he stepped through the portal back into his basement lab. Try to stitch together the pieces of a story that spanned worlds, galaxies, even dimensions themselves. Try to face a past he’d just as rather leave behind entirely. 

I suppose trying is the best I can do in this case. And perhaps writing about some of it here will help me get my thoughts in order. Perhaps it’s time I finally reveal… 

My Journey

I remember those first moments after I was cast into the portal like it was yesterday. 

"Stanley! Please! Tell Rose Quartz I’m sorry!” His last message to his brother, or more precisely, to the pink Gem, echoed all around him through the bright white void he’d found himself sucked into. A void that led to what could very well become his demise, a thought that he barely even had time to grapple with as he tumbled through the empty light. 

The sudden feeling of weightlessness, the helpless terror, knowing that I would soon face whatever mysterious horror had driven Fiddleford to madness. 

As I felt myself being sucked away from my home (a dimension I would come to learn is referred to in the multiverse as 514÷Y), I held my breath and accepted that this could be the end. 

As luck would have it, it was only the beginning. 

In a startling flash, the white void faded away, finally allowing Ford his first (albeit somewhat blurry) glimpse as to what lay beyond it. Initially, it almost looked like a vast expanse of endless stars, much like an earthly spacescape would appear. Yet in a striking instant, that all changed, the stars burning out as the dark skies turned blood crimson. From there, that red violently exploded into a sickening shade of green, mingled with clashing pinks and oranges. Over and over again, the expanse shifted colors, constantly changing on its own wild whims as it swirled with a chaotic, unstable sort of energy, one that Ford could feel from the moment he found himself caught within it. 

Swimming through the gravity-free area of lightning and swirling colors, I reached into my pocket for a spare pair of glasses (always handy, considering how often I break them) and found myself staring at, quite literally, a living nightmare. 

As a speeding torrent of blazing asteroids rushed past him, the author jolted with fear, still largely overwhelmed with shock to do much else. Disoriented as he was, some small part of his mind still tried clinging onto logic amidst the dangerous disorder he was now lost within. And as he took another look around his hectic new surroundings, he starkly realized where it all was.

“And what is on the other side of that portal, Ford?” Rose had asked him, her voice tight and intense with growing dread. 

“What did you really have us build down here, Stanford?” Pearl had demanded harshly, glaring at him with immense suspicion all the while. “A portal to another dimension, or something far more sinister?” 

“I know what I saw in there!” Fiddleford had cried in a wild-eyed panic as he pointed an accusing finger at the portal he’d just barely been recovered from. “It was a nightmare, plain n’ simple!”

“Let’s just say that when that portal finishes charging up, your dimension is really gonna learn how to PARTY! Right guys?” Bill had cheerfully encouraged his “friends”, a group of ghouls and monsters all eagerly awaiting the portal’s completion just as much as the dream demon himself was. Something that their sinister whispers had been reminding him of on a near-constant, maddening loop for the past several weeks now: 

“The door is open…”

Ford gasped, much louder than he had meant to as the sound echoed through the immense empty space around him. His heart was hammering his chest, his panic rising as he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt exactly where he now was. 

I found myself sucked through the door to the place Bill had designated the portal to access, a place called many different things: the dimension between dimensions, the in-between space, the gateway to other worlds… 

The Nightmare Realm. The very place Bill Cipher himself calls home. 

Bill’s universe is not exactly a dimension, but rather a boiling, shifting, intergalactic foam between dimensions--a lawless, unstable crawl space between worlds that only the strangest and most unknowable beings call home. And as the portal closed behind me, I found myself trapped there, possibly for eternity. 

The entirety of the Nightmare Realm rippled with yet another wave of electric, chaotic energy, one that rattled Ford to the core with terror just as much as all of the others had before it. And yet, this one was the most terrifying by far as he spun around in the weightless space-scape, only to find a sight that made his heart sink all the way to his stomach. For the very same white void he’d emerged here from, the portal itself, his sole gateway back home to everything he’d ever known, simply exploded. In a burst of blinding, bitter light, it was wiped away like a star in a supernova, leaving nothing, no gateway out, no way to escape, left in its wake. 

He was trapped here, armed with only the clothes on his back and nothing else to ensure his survival. The chances of which, he knew, were likely ridiculously low, if they were even existent at all. He was lost, with no hope and no help. For certainly, no one would be able to come to his rescue in a place like this; not Stan, not Fiddleford, not any of the Gems, not even Rose herself. And that was perhaps the very worst part of it all: he was alone. 

Though the truth of it was, he wasn’t as alone as he thought. Though considering the company that was about to find him, he’d very soon wish he was. 

The constant dull, inconsistent clamor that filled the Nightmare Realm was suddenly broken, shattered like glass with a piercing, shrill laugh that Ford was far too familiar with by this point. Once again, the realm shifted, landing the author in another setting entirely, one streaked in sharp shadows and the bright, bizarre sets of eyes that belonged to those shadows. Yet Ford hardly paid them any mind as he instead seized up with fear while that laugh, that wild, insane, undeniable laugh rang loud and clear in his ears, just as it had in the fitful nightmares he’d been having as of late. 

He knew exactly what he’d find if he turned around, exactly who he’d have to face. And worse yet, this time, he wouldn’t merely be facing him in dreams; he’d be facing him on his own home turf. Quite frankly, he was surprised that the dream demon hadn’t already killed him the moment he found him in his realm. But Bill was never one to get to the point, which was why Ford figured he’d do so instead. 

Before I had a moment to properly panic over my fate, I realized that I was hovering before Bill himself, who was perched on a bizarre throne made of optical illusions, flanked by an army of strange and shadowy beasts. 

On his throne, Bill sat surprisingly calmly, as if he was hardly even surprised to see Ford, of all people in the dimension he called home. If anything, the dream demon seemed delighted, leaning forward slightly as he finally greeted the terrified author as brightly as he always did. “Look who finally decided to pay me a visit!” he quipped, his voice echoing through the infinity all around them. “Not that I wasn’t expecting you to show up, Sixer. After your poor buddy Glasses got a glimpse of the place a few weeks ago, I knew you wouldn’t be too far behind!”

This callous mention of his former friend was finally enough to shake Ford out of his initial fear, setting him off with a fuel of righteous fury toward the demon who had been tormenting him for so long now. “B-Bill…” he began, forcing himself to be steady in the face of his hated foe. “I-if you think you’ve won, then you’re sorely mistaken. I don’t know if you just saw what I did, but the portal closed. It’s over, Cipher. You lose!”

Despite this bold claim, Bill simply let out another haughty laugh, hovering off his throne a bit to gain even more height as he towered high above the author. “Aw, c’mon, Fordsy, don’t tell me you’re THAT deluded! You really think that portal of yours shutting itself down is gonna stop me? Some dumb sap is bound to come along and get it running again eventually. And till then, I’ve got all the time in the world to wait. Unlike you, Sixer. Get it? ‘Cause your time is about to run out? It’s FUNNY!”

“You’re wrong!” Ford shot back fiercely. “That portal will never reopen again, Rose will make sure of it! I know she will!”

“Oh yeah, cause ol’ Quartzy is soooo reliable,” Bill rolled his eye. “That’s why she left you hanging out to dry when your first test run went south, huh? Or why she’s NOT here to save you, her human of the week or the decade or whatever, from me! Right? RIGHT?”

“I-I don’t want her to come here to save me!” the author argued, his hands clenched in tight fists at his sides. “I don’t want anyone ever opening that portal; it should have been destroyed, just like Rose said.” Ford paused at this, letting out a sad, remorseful sigh as he rubbed the back of his neck. “And if I’d just listened to her in the first place, then I wouldn’t have ended up here…”

“Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve, but you DIDN’T!” the dream demon mocked almost mirthfully, clearly taking pleasure in this entire situation as a whole. “But tell me, Sixer; wouldn’t you want somebody to get that portal up and running again? It’d give you a chance to get out of here, prolong your ultimately destined-to-end-anyway life a bit instead of having it cut short just by being here! After all, humans don’t tend to last long in the Nightmare Realm. We play a bit… rough around here, don’t we, boys?”

Bill’s horde of accompanying, unknown demons all let out a round of hearty, sadistic chuckles at this, laughter that sent a chill down Ford’s spine yet he refused to back down regardless. “I don’t care about going back to my own dimension,” he said firmly, and he meant it. After all, it wasn’t like there was very much left there for him anyway now. “Just as long as you’re kept out of it too, that’s all that matters to me.”

“Aw, so Brainiac wants to play the big, tough hero now, huh?” Bill scoffed flippantly. “Hate to break it to ya, Sixer, but I’m bound to get what I want either way. But it’s a shame you won’t be around to watch me tear the fabric of your dimension to shreds and grind those Crystal Chumps you care so much about to spacedust. ‘Cause ya see, Stanford, I’m not the one who’s about to lose here. YOU ARE!”

The dream demon’s golden form turned a harsh, deadly red at this, his eye pitch black as its white pupil glared down at the frightened author relentlessly. And as his usual bright blue flames erupted all around him, his eagerly watching cronies and cohorts all began to gather in closer, ready to attack. 

“CARE FOR A GAME OF INTERGALACTIC CHESS?!” Bill shrieked, his booming voice rattling the entire Nightmare Realm as it took on the same sort of aggressive crimson as its king. “THIS TIME, YOU’RE THE PAWN!” 

He snapped his fingers and one of his beasts, a 60-foot-fall ball of fingers and teeth, let out a howl like a humpback whale and charged a me, fingers and teeth wiggling and gnashing! Though I hadn’t had much time to think or plan since my arrival in the Nightmare Realm, I knew right off the bat that escaping was my only chance at survival. 

Acting on adrenaline and instinct, Ford forced himself to spin around amidst the gravity-free expanse, frantically swimming forward in midair as the monster lunged toward him hungrily. It nearly caught him too, though the author barely managed to outmaneuver it, dodging its path in just the nick of time. Still, he was close enough to it as it passed him by to give him a window of opportunity, exactly the one he needed to get away. 

For right as the creature began turning itself back around, Ford pushed himself to “jump” onto one of its many massive hands, using it as something of a springboard to propel himself away from the monster entirely. With this newfound momentum, the author sailed through the ever-changing realm quite a distance, putting some much-needed distance between himself and the monster as it attempted to right itself and go after him. 

And in time, it did so, tailing him as he continued pushing himself through space with as much force and speed as he possibly could. However, the monster was every bit as persistent as he was, intent on acting on Bill’s orders and catching its prey as it continued the chase without any signs of ceasing. Fortunately for Ford, however, as he turned his sights forward once again, he found just the cover he needed to end it. Or at the very least, give him a much-needed chance to breathe amidst all of the endless insanity he was up against. 

I managed to hide behind an asteroid field in the nick of time as the monstrosity passed me by, and I swam through the air in a panic as multiple beasts tore through the space rocks, searching for me.

As the author took refuge in a dense collection of asteroids, he could hear a series of approaching roars and rumbles, no doubt from all of Bill’s other beasts as they all assembled to go after him as well. Unsure of what else to do, Ford pressed tight against one of the larger rocks, hoping that he wouldn't be seen. Without any sort of weapon to speak of, there would be no fighting back against creatures as dangerous and unpredictable as these, which meant that escaping from them as all he could really do. Or, at the very least, hiding in the hopes that he could come up with some sort of plan to put an end to this madness before it was too late. And fortunately, it seemed as though some small shamble of luck was still somehow on his side in his otherwise luckless plight. For as he dashed toward another asteroid to hide behind, he happened to spot an even better escape instead. 

Fleeing for my life, I miraculously managed to take shelter in the crater of a large passing asteroid as the monsters swarmed by. Hidden deep within the recesses of the stony caverns, I could hear Bill’s shrill voice: 

“SIXER WANTS TO PLAY HIDE AND SEEK! FIRST ONE TO FIND HIM AND BRING HiM TO ME GETS THEIR OWN GALAXY!”

It was followed by the manic laughter of creatures large and small racing off to locate me. I was so crazed from fatigue and rage that my first impulse was to give myself up to Bill so I could curse him right to his face. And at the time, I figured I might as well do exactly that since the chances of me realistically making it out of the hellish dimension I was now trapped in here were essentially none. 

With Bill’s horde of monsters and demons successfully evaded for the time being, Ford had finally found a moment to rest, not that he actually found any such solace in it though. Instead, the author slumped down against the cavern wall, staring off into the immense darkness ahead so he wouldn’t have to look back into the endlessly shifting scape of the Nightmare Realm in its place. 

Had it really just been mere moments ago that he had been standing back in his own basement lab, face to face with his twin brother? Had it really been a mere moment, just one unfortunate second that had turned his life upside down, or rather, had ruined it completely? The author knew he had a long list of people he could pin the blame on for his disastrous plight: Stan, Bill, himself. And yet that blame would hardly do him much good here. Because as long as he remained entrenched in the horrors of the Nightmare Realm, then he was essentially just waiting to die. 

The moment he realized this fact was the same moment he realized he was shaking, his hands trembling with cold fear that had filled him from the second he arrived in this awful place. When he had been a young, innocent boy, he’d always dreamed of going on some grand, high-stakes adventure, a dream that both him and Stan had shared. But now that he was actually living that dream, or nightmare rather, it was far from anything he’d once hoped it would be. 

Amidst that chilling terror, he could also feel warmth, building up behind his eyes as they started to turn wet. A small sob choked its way out of his throat as he hugged his knees close to his chest. Briefly, he was finally able to take stock of his tattered lab coat, his fresh pair of glasses already slightly cracked from the fray he’d narrowly managed to escape. Yet none of that even remotely mattered to him now. What did matter were all of the things he was all-too-quickly realizing he’d never get to do. 

He’d never see his home again, be within the familiarity of the house that sat in the shadow of a temple he’d come to see as a beacon of hope and security. He’d never see the constant stars resting over the peaceful waters of the lake or hear the morning birds greet another crisp Oregonian morning. He’d never write within the pages of his treasured journals, or explore all that the strange, yet beautiful town of Gravity Falls, a place he’d come to lose so much in such a short amount of time.

He’d never get to make amends with Fiddleford for the harrowing experience he’d put him through. He’d never get to apologize to Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl for dragging them into his disaster. He’d never be able to tell Rose just how much he valued her friendship, how much he wished he could win her trust back and how much he had trusted her, how he still trusted her, even despite everything, in turn. And even though some part of him was furious, outraged that Stan’s foolishness had gotten him into this mess in the first place, another part of him still mourned that he’d never get to see his brother again either. 

He would never be able to go home again. And given the mounting list of disastrous mistakes he’d made, it was probably the only fate he knew he really deserved.

Ford had all but lost himself to grief over that fact when suddenly, a small, yet still prominent noise coming from deeper within the cave he’d taken shelter in. Slowly and carefully, the author rose to stand, peering deeper into the darkness where the faint whispers were coming from. He was hesitant to follow them, initially believing them to be coming from more of Bill’s henchmen, lurking in the shadows, just waiting to attack. And yet, these soft, almost scared whispers were a far cry from the raving, manic screams and shrieks of the monsters outside. Which was exactly why Ford allowed curiosity to get the better of him as he stepped into the darkness, not knowing what he’d find. 

What he did manage to find, however, was perhaps the last thing he could have ever expected. 

Pressing further ahead into the cavern, I discovered that I was sharing my hiding spot with a shivering family of intergalactic refugees. 

Sure enough, a group of four alien creatures of varying species and sizes sat, each of them bandaged and war-torn in different ways as they desperately tried to keep themselves warm around their small, strangely glittering purple fire. Ford stopped short just shy of approaching them, stunned by their presence as they were by his when they caught sight of him. And yet, instead of pulling out any sort of weapons to attack, the group offered the author a series of sympathetic, consoling looks as their leader, squat, snaggletoothed, guinea pig-like creature with an eyepatch and a mechanical arm, calmly beckoned him forward. 

“You lost your way out there too?” he asked with something of a folksy draw to his tone. “Can’t blame ya, you wouldn’t be the first. C'mere and join the rest of us lost souls. Warmin’ up ‘round the fire is leagues better than tryin’ your chances out there, that’s for sure.”

Ford said nothing at first, eyeing the group warily until he realized their leader was right. At the very least, these creatures didn’t see intent on eating him alive like Bill’s were. 

“T-thank you,” the author said, holding his hands out toward the violet flames in the hopes that the warmth would finally cease their endless shaking. “If you don’t mind me asking… what exactly are all of you and… what are you doing in… well, to put it lightly, here?”

“Heh,” one of the other members of the group, a small, somewhat pig-like creature chuckled bitterly. “Ain’t that the story of the multiverse?”

“A tale of great sadness and woe indeed,” the most reptilian creature of the group, complete with a long neck and a bandaged stub of an arm shook his head morosely. 

“One that’s probably not bound to get a happy ending at this point,” the final member of the group, a horned, fanged creature sighed tiredly. 

“But before we get into that depress fest,” the leader grumbled, shaking his head at his despairing friends. “Allow us to introduce ourselves first. The name’s Yottos. Put ‘er there.” Ford shook the robotic hand Yottos offered to him before he began to go through the rest of the refugees. “That’s Hocoh,” he nodded to the pig-like creature on the other side of the fire. “He’s Qharquains.” The reptilian creature waved his stub of a bandaged arm in greeting. “And he’s-”

“I’m George,” the horned creature finished bluntly, catching the author quite off guard. 

“Huh… that’s a… surprisingly normal name,” Ford pointed out with a frown. 

“You kiddin’? It’s the strangest name in the whole dang multiverse!” Hocoh laughed, slapping his knee. Likewise, Yottos and Qharquains also joined in on the bout of laughter, flustering George in the process. 

“So you guys keep saying!” he grumbled petulantly. “Y-you’re just mad ‘cause your names aren’t as cool as mine! You!” he looked to Ford somewhat suspiciously. “What’s your name, newbie?”

“Oh, I-I’m Stanford,” the author introduced himself. “Stanford Pines.”

The refugees fell silent at this as they all looked to the author incredulously. “Hm. And I thought George was an odd name...” Qharquains remarked, eliciting another frustrated growl from George as the other two refugees laughed once more. 

“Guys! Stop it!” 

“Now then, Stanford Pines,” Yottos began, his tone turning serious as he looked to the author once more. “Ya asked for our story and here it is. We were just a bunch of humble asteroid miners, hard at work for an honest day’s livin on the stardust fields just off of Oloxion 9.”

“We were just ‘bout to head home for the day when BAM! FLASH!” Hocoh exclaimed dramatically. “A GIANT wormhole shows up, clean outta nowhere, and sucks our ship inside with all us on it!”

“When we all came to, we found ourselves drifting here, within the forbidden gateway between worlds,” Qharquains explained evenly. “With our ship irreparably damaged, we were lost, in the very place where all things in the multiverse that go missing tend to end up in.”

“We barely managed to escape from all of those… horrible monsters…” George shuddered fearfully. “And we’ve been hiding out here ever since, both from them… and… f-from him…”

“...You mean… Bill?” Ford ventured, only to receive a sharp and sudden reaction from the refugees. A round of horrified shrieks rose up from the group, panic filling their expressions as they covered their ears to try to avoid hearing the dream demon’s name in any way possible. Somewhat confused, the author looked between the frightened members of the group, both understanding their alarm and trying to make sense of it all at the same time. “Is… something wrong?”

“Do not speak the demon’s name!” Qharquains warned fearfully. “He has ears everywhere here…”

“He’ll hear you, t-then show up here, a-and DESTROY US ALL!” George cried, shaking as he pulled his hood over his eyes. 

“If you’re here, then you gotta know,” Hocoh said sternly, seriously. “That demon, nah, that monster is nothin’ but trouble!”

“Tch, don’t I know it,” Ford scoffed bitterly, crossing his arms. “Believe it or not, I used to consider Bill--er, t-that… demon,” the author corrected himself as the refugees shrunk back in terror once more. “To be my muse. I let him influence me, trick me, into building an interdimensional portal and it’s because of that portal that I ended up here in the first place… And all because I stubbornly refused to listen to my closest friend when she told me he was not to be trusted…”

“Your friend sounds like she’s got a good head on her shoulders,” Yottos nodded in agreement. “Cause she’s right. Ya can’t trust a monster like him. In fact, you’d be pretty stupid to even listen to a single word he has to say!”

“I can’t believe you didn’t know,” George shook his head incredulously. “That demon’s one of the most feared beings in the whole multiverse! Everybody, and I mean everybody knows he’s always been bad news and will always be bad news!”

“Legend has it that he took over this realm eons ago,” Qharquains said gravely. “He used it as a hideout for himself and his equally chaotic allies, a place just as lawless and insane as they are. However, the Nightmare Realm is doomed for destruction. It has no consistent physics that it can adhere to, nothing to keep it stable. Which is why, in time, it will eventually implode, taking everything and everyone that calls it home with it.”

“So… that must be why Bill was so intent on that portal being built…” Ford muttered to himself, finally understanding the scope of the dream demon’s plan. 

The Nightmare Realm… a dimension between dimensions that was never meant to exist in the first place. A plane of chaos and disaster so immense that even the multiverse itself wants it gone. That’s why Bill seeks a new, more stable dimension to take over, much like he had his current ruinous home, and a foolish mind willing to let him in. A mind like mine. 

“I’m going to stop him!” Ford exclaimed, largely without thinking. The refugees all turned to him, dumbfounded and stunned, especially as he explained himself further. “If Bill--if that demon really does pose such a large threat to both my home and the the multiverse as a whole as you say, then someone needs to put an end to his destructive plans. And that someone is going to be me.”

“B-but that’s crazy!” George balked in utter disbelief.

“What makes you think you’ll stand a chance against someone as powerful as that demon?” Hocoh asked, not buying the author’s verve. “Nobody who’s ever tried standin’ up to him has ever lived to tell the tale.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Ford shook his head, resolved. “He has to be stopped, some way or another. Before he really can escape the Nightmare Realm. Too many lives have been ruined because of his antics, including my own. That’s why it’s time to put an end to him, to prevent him from ruining any more.”

“Tch, you’re not all there, are ya, Stanford Pines?” Yottos asked, finally cracking a wry smile. “Still, ya got guts, and we can’t help but respect that, can we, boys?” The other refugees all nodded in agreement at this, though it was clear they were still rather baffled by Ford’s unflinching determination all the same. “If you’re really dead set on facin’ that demon, then let us help ya out.” Yottos dug into his bag of supplies, pulling out a few sets of rations, mostly made up of odd, compressed mush that the author was completely unfamiliar with. Though at this point, he knew he couldn’t really afford to be picky when it came to what he ate out here. “Take these, and also this.” The leader presented him with some sort of electronic, bracelet-like device, one that the author couldn’t help but look over curiously as soon as he received it. 

“What is it?” he asked, fascinated. 

“Dimensional translator,” Yottos said, poking at the fire a bit. “No offense, but ya seem a bit new to the whole ‘dimensional travel’ game, so that’ll give ya a bit of an easier time when it comes to folks out there that aren’t as ‘well-spoken’ as we are. Now, it’s a bit of an older model, but it should still work just fine.”

“Right,” Ford nodded with a grateful smile as he slipped the translator on his wrist and the rations into the empty supply bag Qharquains also gave him. “Thank you all for your help. I really do hope all of you find your way back to your own home someday.”

“Eh, at this point we’re honestly just satisfied with surviving from day to day,” George shrugged. “And not getting eaten by the occasional gloop monster or eyeball beast.”

“...Um… well then,” the author cleared his throat as he segwayed into a different topic instead. “You… wouldn’t happen to know what the odds are of a portal or a wormhole opening up that would lead back to Earth, would you?”

“What’s a ‘Earth’?” Hocoh asked, completely confused. 

“I’ve never heard of that dimension before,” Qharquains said, shaking his head. “But if that is the place you call home, then I’m afraid to say that the possibility of you returning there from here, by all accounts, is quite slim.”

“That’s… exactly what I was afraid of…” Ford sighed, still just as aware as he was before of his fate. A fate that seemed quite uncertain, even now. And yet despite that uncertainty, he still clung onto a sliver of hope all the same. Not the hope that he’d ever return home; he knew that ship had sailed and sunk. But rather, the hope that he’d finally be able to stop Bill and save the world, even if it was a word he’d never be able to see again. 

So a plan began to form in my mind. I would travel from dimension to dimension, learning what I could about Bill--his weaknesses, his secrets. I’d gain my strength, bide my time, and once I was ready, I would return to the Nightmare Realm and destroy him once and for all. I might never see home again, but at least I could save the multiverse from his wrath, and wreak vengeance for the life he stole from me. 

And that was exactly what he was going to set out to do. He’d risk anything and everything just to see Bill Cipher finally meet his end. Even if his own end came right along with it. 

The refugees excitedly hailed me as a hero as I prepared to leave, bidding me the best of luck in my quest as I waved them goodbye, setting off from their asteroid to swim toward the nearest wormhole. I was ready, ready to do whatever it took to not just survive, but thrive, as I cast my fate to the wind to discover what new worlds awaited me. 

Yet as I left the Nightmare Realm and all its terrors behind, I still caught wind of one final cheer the refugees offered me. One that I still don’t know the meaning behind, even to this very day:

“Praise the Axolotl!” 

Next: 

[detectivejigsawpines]

The Barber of Gopher Road

Or, Stan finds his potential calling.

Here’s something funny and wholesome to (hopefully) make up for the emotional roller coaster the last two stories in this AU has put you through.

The front door opened, and Ford stomped in, carrying an empty satchel and grumbling to himself.

Stan, who was looking in the bathroom mirror and wondering if his ears had always been this big (getting a haircut recently seemed to have really made them stick out), peered out and saw him looking like a storm cloud with glasses.

“No luck?” he asked, turning off the bathroom light and going into the main room after his brother.

Ford dumped the satchel on the giant toe coffee table and flopped into one of the chairs which had been set up on either side of it.

“Mutter mutter unicorn mutter mutter mutter pure of heart mutter,” he replied.

Stan took a moment to process that.  “I’m gonna take that as a no.”

“The dumb unicorn said that I wasn’t pure enough of heart, okay?” Ford snapped.

“Pure of heart?  What does that even mean?”

Ford gave an irritable shrug, looking more like a sulky toddler than his usual semi-dignified self.

“Sounds kinda hinky,” Stan said, frowning.  “Cuz if that’s supposed to mean someone who’s never done anything wrong, that’s impossible.  Nobody’s ever been pure of heart unless you believe in Jesus and the Dalai Lama and stuff.”

“Stanley, the Dalai Lama is a real person.”

Stan was no longer listening, because the wheels of his brain were busy turning.  Absentmindedly he began pacing back and forth, in a way that was quite like his brother except that he was rubbing the back of his neck, brushing over the spot that used to be covered by his hair.

His hair…

Suddenly, eyes bright with an idea, Stan snatched up the satchel.  Then he headed for the kitchen and dug around in the drawer they used for miscellaneous items (which was always sticking because neither of them could remember to make sure the items were laid in properly) until he pulled out a pair of good sharp scissors.

“What are you doing?!” Ford demanded, chasing after him.

“Watch me, Sixer.  I’m gonna get you that unicorn hair.”

Ford let out an incredulous scoff.  “You? If I am not pure of heart by her standards, then you are definitely not-”

“See ya later.”

And Stan snatched the journal that contained the incantation to open the entry to the unicorn glen, and was out the door.

********

After a stop in town to pick up some extra supplies at the convenience store, Stan headed into the forest.  The glen was easily found and opened, even though he felt a little stupid reading the chant aloud. But at least it worked-even if it meant being nearly blinded by the horrendous rainbow light when he opened the giant golden doors.

It looks like a six-year-old girl’s backpack threw up all over this place, he thought, taking in the trees, the waterfall above the limpid pool, and above all, the unicorn posing curled up on a rock in front of the random rainbow which was hanging in the air for no apparent reason.

“You again!” the unicorn exclaimed when she saw him, leaping to her dainty hooves and stamping one of them in agitation.  “I told you, you are not pure of heart-!”

“You got the wrong guy, sister,” Stan said, putting his hands in his pockets.  “I’m his brother, Stan. Nice ta meet ya.”

The unicorn blinked her enormous purple eyes in bewilderment.  “Amazing!  I’ve never seen two humans who looked so much alike!”

Stan snorted.  “Eh, personally I think I’m the handsome one.  Anywho, I wanted ta see you for myself, and-”

“Only a human who is pure of heart may have some of my hair!”   The unicorn stamped her hoof again, and flared her nostrils in a dainty snort.

Stan barely refrained from rolling his eyes.  “Yeah, well, I’m probably not gonna make the grade, but feel free ta check.”

The unicorn, Celesta-whatever (Ford had mentioned hearing her name from the gnomes, but Stan had already forgotten the full thing), looked confused for a moment, but then jabbed her horn into his chest.

Stan resisted his next impulse, to smack away the sharp object being jabbed at him.

She’s not using it as a weapon, he reminded himself.  Be cool.

Sure enough, after the heart shape appeared for a few seconds, Celesta-thingy reared her head back.

“Yooooouuuuu are not pure of heeeeaaaaart!!!!!!” she wailed.  “And you didn’t take off your shoes when you came in!  You must leeeeeaaaaave!!!!!!!”

This time Stan was unable to resist rolling his eyes a tiny bit.  But he shrugged, and hoisted the bag higher up on his shoulder.

“Okay, fine by me.  If you wanna loaf around with your hair looking like that, what do I care?”

And he turned on his heel.

“WHAT WAS THAT?!”

Stan glanced over his shoulder, and hid a smirk at the look of shocked outrage on the unicorn’s face.

“Nothing, nothing.  Have a nice day.” He turned back around and headed for the exit-

Seconds later Celesta-whosit was in his path, teeth actually bared.  “What did you say about my hair?!  How dare you! My hair is beautiful and perfect!”

Stan chewed his lip, and did an indifferent shrug.  “Okay, if you say so.”

“What?” she demanded.  “Tell me what you’re implying this instant!”

“Oh, you don’t wanna-”

“TELL ME!”

Stan sighed in fake reluctance.  “Well, if you insist…” He took a deep breath.  “It’s just...your hair is completely last year’s style, okay?  I mean, have you looked at it recently?” He strode around her in a circle, plucking at it with the tips of his fingers and making disapproving noises.  “You’re behind the times, letting it grow all long like that-I’m surprised you haven’t been laughed out of the forest! And don’t even get me started on those awful split ends.”

“I do NOT have split ends!”   But now there was a waver of uncertainty in her not-so-angelic voice.

Stan shrugged, coming back to face her.  “Whatever you say, lady. All I’m saying is, give me fifteen minutes and I could fix you up real nice, make it so you could actually show your face outside.  But you obviously don’t want anyone touching your hair, so just don’t worry about it. See ya around-”

Seconds later he was being shoved bodily into the center of the glen, until he landed on his rear on a large rock (ow).  Then the unicorn draped herself in front of him, tossing her rainbow-colored locks until they were facing him.

Stan tried not to grin.

****

It was surprisingly relaxing, cutting the unicorn’s hair.  He hadn’t had much experience, but he did his best to keep it even, stuffing the chopped-off parts into the satchel.  He was almost done, when two more unicorns stepped into the glen from the other side of the pool.

“Hey, C-beth, you busy?  We were wondering-WHAT THE HECK?!”

Both of them stopped, jaws dropping practically to the ground.

Celesta-whatsit raised her head, the tip of her horn glowing.  “Oh, hi, guys!  This wonderful human is giving me a haircut to help me keep up with the times!”

Stan raised the hand not holding the scissors and waved to them.  “How’s it hanging?”

And she’s not the last of her kind either.  These guys really are a bunch of lying jerks.

The pink one daintily stepped forward, head tilted in bewilderment.  “Keep up with the times?  What are you talking about?”

Stan trimmed the last piece, and cleaned off his scissors on his sleeve.  Maybe it would be best to grab the satchel and run with it...but suddenly he wanted to know if this would work.  “You guys really don’t get out much, do you? If you did you wouldn’t even have to ask.” He patted C-beth’s hide.  “Go on and take a look.”

The unicorn got to her hooves, and stepped over to the pool, where she peered in-and gasped.

Stan had turned her mane into a bob which stopped just at the base of her neck, and curled at the ends, so she suddenly bore an odd resemblance to some pictures of his grandma that his mother had shown them once.  It was a little ragged, and he hadn’t quite gotten it to look like the picture in one of the hairdo magazines he’d brought, but on the whole it was better than he’d worried it would turn out.

C-beth tossed her mane back and forth, eyes wide.

“I-it’s been so long since it’s felt this light,” she marvelled.  “I’m not sure how I feel about it…”

“Can you do my hair too?” the turquoise unicorn suddenly asked, bounding over to Stan.

“Yeah, me too!” cried the pink one.  “Cut my hair-I’ve had this same stupid ‘do since I was a foal!  Do you think you can do layers?”

“Man, we gotta tell the girls at the hooficure place!”

“We’ll pay you!”

Before Stan’s eyes, they briefly turned into wallets with hooves.

****

A few hours later, Ford stared at Stan, jaw dropped, as he emptied out a bag filled with rainbow colors.

“And I think I can probably get more if I go back tomorrow-they said they were gonna tell their friends, and they’ll want to keep up with the new ‘style’ too.  I’m gonna need some practice with haircuts, but maybe I can learn how ta do head massages or something too. And look!” He grabbed the enormous treasure chest he’d been given by the gushing unicorns, and pushed it open with his foot.  “We finally have treasure!”

Well, technically it had been him.  But still. Ford was the one who had found the unicorns in the first place, so he was kind of involved.

“...You tricked the unicorns into giving up their hair?” Ford asked in a tone of strangled disbelief.  “And they paid you for it?”

Stan grinned, and shrugged.  “Guess being a liar and a cheater works for me after all.  So, what’re you gonna do with this stuff?”

Ford still looked a little shell-shocked.  “Well, I-I need to study what sort of magical properties all of this has.  I’ve read all sorts of stories, but I don’t know how much is fact and how much is fiction yet.”

“Heh, you could probably use some of this to knit a sweater.”  Stan didn’t know why, but as soon as he said that it felt...oddly appropriate.

Ford snorted as he gathered up some of the hair and rushed off to the lab.

****

Word gets around the forest fast-soon enough other magical creatures show up wanting Stan to cut their hair for them. Fairies, wood nymphs, merfolk, even manotaurs who want to go with a buzz cut or something. Stan worries a little bit about how 'manly' of a job being a hairdresser is, but it works until or unless he can find one in the human world. And in the meantime, it keeps Ford happy by giving him plenty of samples to study, so win-win.

[f1g]

this a compilation of all of the moments in the dr.STONE manga that senku and gen share together! they're sorted in order by chapter, and they include descriptions and links to the panels. at the end, there's a section with some random fun facts/crumbs/observations that don't quite fit into the main list that are nice to know. many thanks to ukyoxchrome for helping assemble this list! now let us proceed under the cut to contemplate why exactly they are boyfriends and how cute they are... (as one would expect there are major manga spoilers throughout this whole post so read at your own risk)

Chapter 12 - gen first appears on the psychology book cover in a flashback! senku proceeds to stomp all over his quiz

Chapter 23 - gen introduced in the flesh when he arrives at ishigami village and asserts his status as resident cola man. senku recognizes him from way back when (omg) and calls his book trashy and we get these panels of gen being a sad ferret

Chapter 24 - senku calls gen a “capable fake magician”, gen is impressed by senku making a generator

Chapter 25 - in order to help senku with his generator for the first time gen works his psychology stuff to manipulate someone (kinrou and ginrou) into achieving one of senku’s goals

Chapter 26 - first big sengen moment. gen gets beaten up by magma, senku and gen have, uh, this moment i'll let the pictures speak for themselves. the tenderness... the intimacy. god

Chapter 38 - gen returns during the tournament, senku and gen team up so that chrome can burn magma

Chapter 40 - also a huge chapter for sengen. gen blushing and being tsundere while thinking about senku, some banter between them, and FINALLY colaman gets his cola oh my god look how happy he is

Chapter 46 - teaming up against hyouga and co look at their faces at the end ahh and also gen being cute and waving back while he returns to tsukasa

Chapter 47 - senku makes a katana, something gen suggested in chapter 24

Chapter 48 - gen officially defects to senku's side and at the end of the chapter there’s a cute drawing of gen and senku wielding katanas together

Chapter 51 - senku makes cotton candy, gen wants to taste it. also, a gay-coding moment where we are yet again reaffirmed that senku is not interested in girls

Chapter 53 - gen calls senku cool, and is impressed by senku’s light bulb. senku and gen stand by the christmas tree and gen realizes it’s christmas

Chapter 54 - gen invites senku to see the new year’s day first sunrise with everyone and asks senku how many days he has lived, which leads to the birthday party.

Chapter 55 - gen starts planning for the birthday party

Chapter 56 - gen's surprise birthday party! gen says he liked senku before he met him! gen uses “好き” which can be used in confessions in japanese!!!!! best chapter.

Chapter 57 - senku drags gen by his hood into the lab and gen doesn’t understand anything. senku tells gen he expected him to be smarter lol

Chapter 59 - gen remembering senku's birthday again and figuring out that they should go visit byakuya's grave

Chapter 60 - senku is looking through his telescope and he can literally sense that it’s gen at his door oh my he is so gay… then a total hell yeah motherfucker moment

Chapter 61 - senku and gen talk alone together for a bit until chrome busts in. senku says that gen’s lillian impression is good. epic brofist ensues

Chapter 63 - gen and senku communicate with each other via morse code. it is revealed in the volume 8 bonus content that senku taught it to gen himself TT_TT

Chapter 65 - gen escapes from ukyo and RUNS back to senku. just before, senku thinks “if gen doesn’t come back before then, it’s game over” he doesn’t even mention chrome or magma haha

Chapter 66 - popularity poll results are out, gen is in third place and senku is in first place, they appear in a color page together (with kohaku in second place). gen and senku make the phone call to convince nikki to join senku’s side, bantz ensue idk

Chapter 67 - senku and gen wear modern japanese school uniforms while nikki is yelling at them in this gag, very cute. Gen is surprised by senku wanting to build a car. also in one translation senku says “stan” and gen says “yikes”

Chapter 68 - gen notes how excited senku and his pals are over building a car several times

Chapter 70 - cover page has senku riding the tank and gen inside it. gen is impressed by the paper that senku made

Chapter 73 - gen and senku team up as lillian weinberg and sebastian the interpreter. gen calls senku “senku-kun” (the only time he has used an honorific that wasn’t “-chan” for someone)

Chapter 74 - gen cries because senku doesn’t know how to negotiate with people

Chapter 75 - senku and gen are in the tank together while they take over the cave of miracles

Chapter 76 - gen calls senku “hella prepared”

Chapter 77 - Senku and Gen try to make a weapon to defeat tsukasa. Gen touches snake shit for senku. (kat’s note: That is real love lol)

Chapter 82 - gen mirin senku’s medical adhesive making

Chapter 84 - ukyo talks to gen about his decision to defect from tsukasa, gen stares wistfully into the distance and says “senku, huh…”. really makes you think pic (kat’s note: HE LITERALLY SAID “SENKU” FOR NO REASON OH MY HE IS SO GAY) (macklemore’s note: in the pic it’s a little different as it’s a different translation but in the viz one he does in fact say “senku, huh...”)

Chapter 86 - gen and senku just, being on the absolute same wavelength here. effervescent

Chapter 87 - more scheming ft. ryusui, devilishness ensues. up there in the most iconic sengen moments

Chapter 88 - gen does his thing w the cards, more shenanigans. Wonderful

Chapter 92 - gen pretends that senku has made a camera so that they can get the extra revival fluid from minami

Chapter 93 - senku says “that mouth of yours is really too much, mentalist!!” lmao

Chapter 94 - senku tries to quiz gen on the discovery of the sagara oil field

Chapter 95 - gen mirin senku’s motorboat. senku and gen are both on the boat together. gen also interprets morse code again in this chapter

Chapter 97 - ukyo and gen have another little discussion about senku, gen stares wistfully into the distance yet again. what did they mean by this

Chapter 98 - senku finally makes paved roads for gen

Chapter 99 - senku and gen conspiring to get money from ryusui again

Chapter 100 - gen is the last one to go on the boat, senku calls out to him and tells him that they need his skills, gen goes up really close to him and says that he would rather stick with senku’s group because that would be the safest bet TT_TT

Chapter 101 - gen is curious about where senku is, he goes to where senku is (with ruri) and literally just falls asleep next to him. later on gen has a question about soyuz he calls for senku

Chapter 103 - senku chooses gen to go to treasure island with the team of 4

Chapter 104 - senku and gen get a color page together, and they work together to deduce that amaryllis is around

Chapter 105 - senku needs to use the tear gas contraption that is on Gen’s back. gen understands immediately and becomes senku’s table hfsdjkf

Chapter 106 - they realize the thing amaryllis is talking about is the petrification beam after she describes her flashback.

Chapter 110 - gen calls senku cute as a girl

Chapter 113 - gen has his moment in the spotlight, general banter between them, modern au thing with them in the chapter cover page

crumbs

now here are just some panels and observations that aren't critical in the development of their relationship but are nice to note regardless

Chapter 26 - senku noting that gen isn't quite dead yet and senku helping hoist gen up into the hut lol

Chapter 39 - in the viz translation gen calls senku “my dear senku” i just think that’s really cute

Chapter 45 - just this omg why is senku so pretty

Chapter 52 - senku says that gen is good at impressions (this is also foreshadowing for when gen impersonates lillian weinberg)

Chapter 56 - just a few more crumbs from this chapter

Chapter 58 - gen saying "tewwible" i think this is great

Chapter 60 - being cute together. i am addicted to that "long day, huh?" panel

Chapter 84 - in the cover page, you see senku with basically the entire cast in front of him, and gen is the only person behind him. really makes u think. gen really is senku’s right hand man huh :’’)

in general, gen is shows just being really impressed by senku’s stuff which isn’t really matched by any other named character

in conclusion sengen is cute and canon they are chaotic good bfs and are in love thank u for coming to my ted talk. the world needs more sengen content

[rxdonmyledger]

Once Upon a December (Part 5)

A/N: Hi guys! I’m so sorry about the delay. Really! I’m thinking about other stories to publish also and I’m quite busy with my college stuff and my other projects! You can send me requests if you like about any Marvel character! As always, I hope you like it and feedback would be appreciated!

Warnings: None I think. Maybe Angst.

Words: 1,777

Tagged and those who might like it: @msmarvelchick @sebastian-bucky-stan @eileenlikesyou-maybe @a-girl-who-loves-disney @whotheeffisbucky @plumfondler @totheendofthelinepal @thatawkwardtinyperson@theh3aven @themistsofmyavalon @pleasecallmecaptain @writemarvelousthings @writingbarnes@sebbytrash @stephvera @shaerose98 @hollycornish @marvelfanuniverse @totheendofthelinepal @just-call-me-mrs-captain @bovaria @writing-soldiers @marvelouslymarvelousimagines @mangosoldier@rchlnwtn  @goldwanderer @fourtyninekirbygamzeegirl  @bvckys-doll @suvi-hearthcrow @justareader  @themortallife @perrychastain @petitelaurie9 @inlovewithmydreams

You sighed as your eyes travelled from one side of the room to the other, trying to remember. Several flashbacks came to your mind as well as that night. The Red Night in which you had lost everything.

Even your memories.

You had grown up thinking that your parents were some members of the imperial aristocracy when in fact you were the Imperial Princess. The one that had to claim for the throne. The legitimate heiress. 

“Now what?” You asked staring at the two men who were with you, sitting in chairs. Bucky sighed and ran his fingers over his long hair.

“Your grandmother Olga is waiting in Europe. She’s been thinking for years you were alive and she’s looking for you”

“And do you plan to take me out of a country immersed in a civil war? In which there might be spies?”

“We should not worry about spies. There is something worse”Steve spoke and fell silent as he saw Bucky’s gaze fixed on him, his blue eyes cold. 

“What could it be worse than that?”

The two of them didn’t say a single word and you sighed, raising your hands and smiling ironically.

“That’s great”

You stood up and started to walk to the door, taking your coat and scarf and Bucky and Steve stood up quickly and blocked your way, making you to raise your eyebrow.

“We will tell you eventually. I promise. But you have to trust us. If we have found you it is just a matter of time that they do too”

“Who are “they”?”You said, stressing the pronoun. Bucky sighed and shook his head. 

“I’ll just tell you that being with us is better than being with them” The man looked at his metal arm and you swallowed hard at the sight. You took a deep breath and scratched the back of your neck, shaking your head.

“Fine. What’s the plan then?”

“We’ll get the train tickets, do not worry about that. Our usual contact will wait inside the station and we will have an agent inside the train just in case”

“Agents? Are you part of a group or something?”

Bucky and Steve looked at each other and the blonde man nodded. It seemed they were having a conversation reading the other’s mind. Bucky sighed and nodded, crossing his arms.

“Steve is part of a group that worked for the King. It usually was for the protection of the country against terrestrial and supernatural phenomenon”You nodded as your mind remembered a girl you used to played with, called Wanda. She could read minds and move objects. “It’s called SHIELD. It was one of the main groups during the reign. Now, it is only a mere phantom of what it was”

“So what happened to them?”

“Part of them work as spies or helping the side that wants the country to be at it was. We have a group inside SHIELD that helped specially the Imperial Family. We are, or at least were...”You noticed Steve sad voice and felt sorry for him. “The Avengers”

“Avengers” You muttered feeling your tongue pronouncing it. Bucky nodded and began to pack their few belongings as you followed Steve outside. “Now, it is dangerous if we stay here. If you want, Bucky might drive you to your apartment to take a suitcase while I contact with the agent”

Later, you found yourself packing the few belongings you had been able to acquire over the years. Pieces of aged clothesand a few books. That’s all what you had. 

Bucky waited patiently near the window. His senses were activated in order to discover if something could go wrong. But it didn’t seem. The streets were silent except for the noise of shoots and bombs far from the city. He saw a young woman running, her arms hugging a bulge. His eyes focused and he could see it was a little girl.

“That’s my view everyday” Bucky jumped as he heard your voice behind you and he observed your sad eyes staring at the street, empty again. “People running. Mostly at night, when nobody is watching. Or at least that is what they think”

“Do you have an idea of what happens with them?” Bucky asked, testing the water to see what would you know. You snorted and stared at him, crossing your arms.

“I am not stupid, Barnes” You muttered before looking again at the streets to see the young woman crying as she was being surrounded by people who probably worked for the current government. When the sound of a gun being shot was heard, you closed your eyes, walking away, taking a deep breath. “That’s what happens”

Bucky nodded and insisted on taking your suitcase downstairs. A few blocks away from your building, he had a motorbike waiting for you. It belonged to Steve but he had given it to you so you could get to the station safely. 

He gave you the helmet and tied the suitcase to the bike, taking a glance around yourselves, observing nobody was near. He rode it and you heard the thunderous noise. 

“Grab my waist” Bucky muttered and you obeyed, feeling his broad chest clenching at your touch. He started to drive through the deserted streets, concentrated on the surroundings. 

The trip went without incident and you took a look of the magnificent building of the train station. Back on its days, when the Imperial family was alive, it might have been astonishing. 

The facade was built with pink stone that shone with the first rays of sun. It had an enormous clock on the top, made exquisitely by hand. The hands were made of wrought iron and the background had musical drawings. The tale said the clock rang with the most beautiful melody ever heard but during the Red Night, the sound was mournful as if it cried the loss of its king and queen.

You took your belongings and followed Bucky to the main entrance. He stopped and muttered a curse as he saw it being controlled by guards of the current government. Your eyes travelled to the symbol of their uniforms. A red skull with tentacles. 

Bucky covered his arm, wearing a coat and placed a cap to hide his face. He handed you another coat that seemed expensive and you frowned. He panted and gave it to you.

“We must take care of our appareance. If they think we are part of the higher classes of the order, they won’t say anything, okay?” You nodded and he showed you his right arm. “Keep your back straight. Look ahead as if you were important and pretent to be in love with me”

“What?” He shrugged and took your suitcase, taking your arm and walking. “Let’s go”

You swallowed hard and placed a lock of hair behind your ear, trying to obey Bucky’s orders. You were approaching the main door and the guards turned their faces on you. They observed your apparel and Bucky’s self-confident gaze. You didn’t even dare to turn your face not even when the dog started to bark at you feet. 

“Well done, Y/N” replied Bucky as he continued on the role and led you to the platform, walking between others passer-by that seemed to have the same idea: To run away from the war.

Steve was already there. He was standing near the train, talking with a man with dark hair and a beard. The man was nodding and moving his hands as he spoke with the blonde. When they turned, they realised you were walking towards them and Steve approached you.

“Y/N, this is Tony Stark. Stark, this is...”

“I know”The man said smiling sweetly at you. “I’ve watch this girl growing up and running over my lab. Banner used to hate it, but of course he couldn’t say anything. “Tony took your hand and kissed it, under the watchful eyes of the guards with guns. “I’d bowed, but I don’t think that would be helpful to go unnoticed” He smiled and made a gesture to Bucky. “Frosty”

“Stark” He replied sharply.

The inspectors started to shout so the passengers could get on the train and Stark hugged you, caressing your back before kissing your forehead. He looked at Steve worryingly. 

“Be careful out there. We’ll try to control them as much as we could. But it’s possible they already know”

“Who’s inside”

“Romanoff and Barton. You’ll met Wilson in Paris as you get there, okay?” Steve nodded and took the passages with their fake names on it. Tony took his arm before he could leave and stared at you, who were waiting for them. “Take care of her, okay?”

“Don’t even say it”

You waved your hand and Tony smiled, remembering the little princess that would came to his lab to see what they were working. You loved his suits and you were the one who named him “Iron Man”

He saw you disappearing inside the train and the enormous machine started to move. Tony sighed and followed his bodyguards to the main entrance, not even noticing the men observing the scene.

The man smiled as he heard the news from one of his men. His long fingers caressed the vasel made of crystal in which the soul whimpered. The young boy that had accompanied the man inside his master’s bedchamber was looking out the corner of his eye, terrified. He hated that green vasel with the empty souls inside it. 

“Is it truthful?”

“Yes, Master Loki. My men were spying them at the station. The girl was there with Rogers and Barnes”

“Barnes” The man muttered and closed his skeletal hands in a fist, his jaw tensed. “That man...I’ll never forgive Pierce for allowing him to escape...” The Master smiled and caressed the glass with one of his long nails, the souls moving away to avoid it. “It’s a relief that now he’s truly useful, isn’t it?”

Nobody replied and he stood up, the vasel swinging as it was hanging from his belt. The boy took a few steps backwards towards the door and the man took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

“Can you feel that?” His right hand took the vasel and raised it up, his lips curving into a cruel smile. “My little babies...It’s your time”

The vasel lightened up and a green smoke feel from it, floating in the air towards the window, escaping to the outside. The whimpers and screams were louder and Loki laughed with his eyes fixed on it, watching his skin creasing. The demons floated around him in circles before going outside.

“Find Y/N. Find her. And kill her”