since i have now written a lot of things, including multiple chapters to multiple things, itâs high time i compiled a masterlist of stuff. everything i write is under the tag #obwrites but this is just a way to organize everything. i will update this list whenever i write something new/if i add more chapters to a one-shot and i will reblog accordingly! (last update 6/19/24)
sorry guys i disappeared for five months again. ugh. i hate when that happens. anyway here's a new chapter of this fic that we all probably forgot about. even me
also on ao3!
part 1 ⢠2 ⢠3 ⢠4 ⢠5 ⢠6
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Progress was slow. Unending. Unrelenting. And, dare Jay say, completely fruitless.
They had taken a little break for the holidays, but in many ways, it still felt like they were on Hanukkah time. The snow was feet thick outside â something Jay was forever thankful she no longer had to deal with. She wiped the fog off little portions of the kitchenâs glass windows, thinking of everything she had left behind out there and how much it felt like she was cheating in here. She supposed Stan was the karma for living such a lavish life in the safety of a human house.
But even so, Jay had noticed a shift in Stanâs demeanor ever since she gave him that photograph. The wisecracks about her size were still plentiful, but there was something⌠softer about the way he talked to her. A little more respect and accommodation for the way she needed to live. He had gotten good at knowing if she needed a hand getting from one surface to another, or if there was something small she needed that she was too embarrassed to ask for help with, like turning a page or sifting through material. Not even Ford had done that for her.
Ford.
The reason they were doing all this.
He still loomed large in both their minds, so much so that he was the only thing they talked about some days. How Ford would have solved this problem months ago. How Ford would be so disappointed in their progress. How Ford might be suffering on the other side of that portal. If there was another side.
âI mean, how do we even know?â Stan said for the ten thousandth time. âOther dimensions? Thatâs crazy person stuff!â
âSo are tiny people,â Jay shot back. âAnd shapeshifters, and eyeballs with bat wings, and everything else Ford was studying. Itâs all real. I saw it.â
âYeah, well, Iâm still not convinced you arenât some hallucination in my head Iâll never be able to get rid of.â
And in between the bickering, Stan was hard at work on his tourist trap idea. The Mystery Shack, he decided to call it. He would carve out big, wooden letters to place on the outside. The upstairs living room would become the gift shop. Heâd turn the rest of this run-down house into his home, so he could make money by day and fix the portal by night. Jay hated everything about the idea, but there was literally nothing she could do about it. Stan had already started snatching up weird stuff scattered around the house and turning it into some kitschy display he was so certain would enamor people. Jay didnât buy it for a second. He didnât care.
âHow are we ever gonna figure this out while you glue the arms of a raccoon onto a bear?â
Stan whipped around, one hand covered in glue, the other holding the bottle, both caked with fur. âHow dare you insult the bear-coon!â
âNot calling it that,â Jay mumbled, crossing her arms. âSeriously, shouldnât we be working on the important things here?â
âThis is important, pipsqueak,â Stan said, narrowing his eyes and sticking his tongue out in concentration as he carefully glued a claw back into place. âI donât know how many times I gotta tell you, this is whatâs gonna make us money. Yâknow, the thing we need to keep the lights on in this place.â
âSpeak for yourself. Iâve never needed it.â
Stan snorted. âYeah, because you live off sticks and mud and could get swallowed by a bird at any moment.â
Jay frowned. âA bird would never eat me.â
âMaybe if you were better lookinâ it would,â Stan said with one of those grins he only wore when he was very proud of his joke. Jay could only roll her eyes. âDid you whine this much around Ford? I barely know you and I canât catch a break.â
That made Jay pause. Stanâs stupid wisecracks sometimes had a way of getting under her skin. Was she that whiny? Was Ford ever annoyed? If he was, he didnât show it, but that doesnât mean he wasnât. What she did know, however, was how Ford was when they first met. He wasnât irritated in the way of somebody never shutting up, he was just⌠frustrated, that he couldnât get what he wanted out of her.
âHello? Earth to tiny?â Stan snapped a finger in her direction, not close enough to scare her, but just enough to make her jump. âGah, I hate when you do that.â
âDo what?â
âZone out like that.â Stan had put the glue down, finally, and was facing her now. âSeems to happen a lot when I mention Ford.â
A long, almost suffocating silence followed. Jay knew what Stan was about to say, and he knew it.Â
âDid⌠something happen?â Stan asked, more carefully than Jayâs ever heard him say something. âYâknow, before the whole â portal business. You never really talk about it.â
âYeah, because I didnât want to tell you,â Jay said with a breathy laugh. âIt, uh⌠it wasnât exactly an argument. Not like what you guys had. It was more like⌠he became unrecognizable.â
Stan tilted his head. âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
âIt wasâŚâ Jay paused. She wasnât sure how much she wanted to tell him about Ford at his worst. âHe just⌠changed, a lot, from when I met him. He got more paranoid, more scared of everyone around him. Any time we told him something he didnât wanna hear, heâd get upset.â Real upset.
âWe. You mean, you and that⌠other guy.â
âFiddleford.â
âYeah. Fiddleford. Ugh. Who would name their child that?â
âHey, be nice. Fidds was a nice guy. He was always kind to me.â
âIâm sure he was.â Stan paused, wondering if it was appropriate to ask this next question before he remembered he didnât care. âAnd they really let you hang with them? They werenât⌠I dunno, freaked out by your gross little hands touching everything? I mean, youâre the kinda thing my brother would just stick in a jar and âobserve for science.ââ
Jay shuffled in place, clearly unnerved, and Stan squinted.
âHe did stick you in a jar, didnât he?â
âMust run in the family,â Jay shot back, a little too defensive. She sighed as Stan threw his arms up.
âHey, I said I was sorry! And I actually meant it!â
âWhatever,â Jay retorted. âI mean, it was fine. He let me out. Eventually.â
Stan groaned. He was tired of how vague she got any time they talked about Ford. âCâmon, kid, why wonât you tell me anything? Heâs my brother, for peteâs sake! I can handle it!â
âBecause!â Jay took a breath, not wanting this to get out of hand. âBecause. I donât⌠it feels â weird, to like, talk about all the things me and Ford did, knowing he, like⌠well, didnât want anything to do with you.â
Stan blinked. He certainly wasnât expecting that answer, or the kindness behind it. He didnât know how to deal with niceties like this. He had to deflect.
âPsh.â He waved a hand. âPlease. You think Iâm gonna start cryinâ or something? Câmon, kid, you know me better than that. Iâm tryinâ to gather evidence here, you know, so I can figure this damn thing out faster.â He jerked his thumb toward the portal room. âBesides, I wanna know what he said when he first saw you. Maybe, AUGH! Or or â OH, GOD, WHY?!â
âOkay, okay,â Jay laughed, rolling her eyes. âBut he wasnât exactly⌠welcoming.â
~~~
She had never seen a human quite like this one.
Sure, they were all weird and loud and intrusive. But this one was all those things dialed up to 100. He had just appeared in the forest one day, turning over rocks with a magnifying glass and frantically scribbling things down in a notebook. He wasnât the first person to sniff around the woods, but heâd certainly lasted the longest. So long, in fact, that he built a house right in the middle of it all. Jay had watched the entire thing from afar, always cautious, always intrigued. She had seen the way he would treat these âanomalies,â as he loved to call them â most of the time, it involved wrangling the thing up and putting it through all kinds of stressful situations. If they could talk, he would talk back, but only while taking measurements and asking them invasive questions.Â
It captivated her to no end.
She knew getting anywhere near the house was a bad idea, but the base of the tree was so cold. So lonely. If nobody was going to travel with her, sheâd have to seek out company other ways, like watching the human. Maybe that's why no one wanted to be around.
Today, Ford was buried neck deep in some kind of plant he found outside. Jay had never seen it before, but itâs not like she had encyclopedic knowledge of everything in the forest. Ford muttered the word fascinating no less than 30 times. It looked like he would be here a while. Perfect time to snag a snack.
Taking stuff from the kitchen in broad daylight was no more dangerous than doing it under the cover of night. If anything, these guys were more active after midnight â itâs when they would guzzle gallons of coffee and finally remember to eat.
Or so she thought.
Ford was scatterbrained, sure. He was often consumed in his work to the point of his own detriment. Half the time, he forgot Fiddleford was even there.
But he was nothing if not observant.
It didnât take him long to notice things shifting from their usual spots, even by a few inches. Food and drink he swore was there one minute was gone the next. But the real evidence was in the traces this little creature left behind â notably, the tiny little hand and footprints Ford was able to see with a blacklight. At first, he thought they were just amorphous blobs, but upon closer inspection, his breath was taken away â they looked just like human hands, only much, much smaller. He thought it could be a fairy, but why would a creature with wings be taking long treks across the counter? No, this had to be something different. So he laid the perfect trap.
Based on the frequency of his observations, it was clear this creature lived in the house, if not spent the majority of its time here. It was clearly intelligent to some degree, based on the attempted stealth and managing to stay fairly undetected. And almost all his evidence being in the kitchen pointed to its priority being food â as it would be for any wild creature, he reasoned. So he manufactured this exact situation â doing something heâd normally do, looking engrossed in something otherworldly, so the creature would let its guard down and scope out the kitchen.Â
Ford snuck up to the door frame and pressed his back to the wall, clutching a glass jar with holes poked into the lid. His hand twitched as he peeked around the edge. The anticipation was killing him. What could it possibly be? Some kind of mouse-human hybrid? Or maybe a very tiny animal with human-like hands and feet. Maybe it was a fairy, but it was injured and couldnât find its way out of the house.Â
A twitch of movement caught his eye. He held his breath and rapidly scanned the counter until his eyes fell right on it.
On her.
Ford had spent so long cataloguing and studying this dimensionâs weirdest and most horrifying creatures. The last thing he was expecting was⌠something so normal.Â
It looked exactly like a person. Just. Small. Smaller than anything heâd come across in his research. It â she â had to be no more than a few inches tall. Her clothes looked like they had been fashioned out of scraps. She wasnât wearing any shoes â that explained the footprints â and she had a miniature bag slung over her shoulder, another item that looked like it was made from a human-sized object. Her long hair was braided, slung over her shoulder, and she clutched a sewing needle in her hand, something that charmed Ford from the second he saw it. But he had to focus. He had to catch her.
Jay stalked across the counter, carefully hunting for any crumbs left over from the 4 a.m. snack session. She could have sworn she heard a bag of chips being opened at some point. But the more she searched, the more a pit began to form in her stomach. Something felt⌠off. Quiet. A bit too quiet for her liking. But not quiet enough to make her turn back and hide. She kept her usual level of caution, ducking behind whatever objects littered the surface, but not constantly checking the door.Â
When she did, it was too late.
The jar slammed down over top of her at an alarming speed. It came so fast that she ran right into one of its walls, stumbling backwards and slamming her head onto the glass. Her needle clattered to the ground as she reached up to rub her throbbing temples.
Ford crouched down to get a better look, keeping one hand rested on top of the jar as he fished his journal from his coat pocket. Now that he was this close to it, he could confirm she was indeed a she. He couldnât keep his eyes off her. He didnât even know where to start.
Jay couldnât believe it. This wasnât just bad luck. No. She knew his patterns, and him coming into the kitchen like this was out of the norm. The realization came crashing down â she had been set up.
âFascinating!â Fordâs voice was distorted through the glass, but commanding enough to still make her jump. âWhat a remarkable little thing you are. Are you a miniature human? Or a different species entirely? I havenât encountered anything like you in my studies.â He adjusted his glasses as he began sketching. âAre you literate? Can you speak? Oh, I hope so. I donât think the square-cube law applies to anomalies. Can you understand what Iâm saying?â
Jay blinked. Was she supposed to answer all that?
âAh. Well, I suppose if you were to speak, I doubt Iâd be able to hear you.â Ford waved his free hand. âYou can just nod your head yes or no.â He dropped his head and muttered, âWell, thatâs all contingent on if she can even understand meâŚâ
Jay was breathing so hard she thought she was bound to pass out. Humans were already fast enough, but Ford was moving at light speed.
âLetâs start with this. Can you understand my language?â
Jay stayed standing, her back pressed against the jar, cautiously eyeing Ford through the glass. For all the thinking and watching she did, she was wholly unprepared for this scenario. She knew she shouldnât answer. She knew she shouldnât give him anything to work with. It was against all sacred law to even be in this situation right now.
She had no idea why she nodded.
Fordâs eyes lit up like a light. âWonderful! That makes this much easier. Can you speak?â
Another nod. Another smile from Ford. Another note in the journal.
âDo you have a nameâ? Well, I suppose you can answer that for me in a moment.â
Jay raised an eyebrow, but Ford kept going.
âYour bag and your clothes â you made those items yourself?â Another nod. âRemarkable. What craftsmanship. And the needleââ He pointed at it with his pen, completely missing the way she flinched. ââis it a weapon, or something of a tool for you?â Ford was still scribbling in his journal, so even if Jay had answered, he wouldnât have noticed. In fact, he seemed to have entirely forgotten the question as soon as he asked it, because he simply wrote carries sewing needle before moving on.
âNow, weâll need to start with basics.â He reached down to his side, but Jay couldnât see for what. âDonât worry, this wonât hurt at all.â
Jay stood there a moment, but it was too late. By the time she fully processed what he said, the jar was already lifted up and his hand was halfway to her.
âWAIT!â she cried, sticking her hand out and stumbling backwards like it would stop him. Ford didn't even notice as his fingers completely engulfed her view.
As if the normal five human fingers werenât enough, the sixth added a sense of dread that felt inescapable. She squirmed and kicked and punched up at his fingertips, but all he did was smile in amusement as he lightly turned her from side to side and pulled her closer to his face.
âCalm down, now. I said I wouldnât hurt you. I just need to take some measurements.â
Before she could blink, a wooden slab was smushed against her side. Jay shifted, trying to adjust her shirt collar so it wasnât choking her.Â
She had never been picked up by a human before. Hell, she had never even been this close to one. As much as she skirted the line of what was acceptable for a borrower, she never even dreamt of being so much as armâs length away from a human. And here she was, dangling hundreds of feet in the air because this one wanted to know how tall she was.Â
It was like death was gnawing at her from behind. She was so paralyzed with fear she couldnât even think, couldnât even formulate an escape plan. If she did manage to wriggle free, where would she go? Straight down onto the counter in a splat? All she could do was struggle. And hurt.
Ford sighed, and Jayâs eyes widened like saucers. âPlease, stop squirming. I donât want to have to pin you down.â
If his intention was to scare her, it worked like a charm, even if it was hard to stay still while being manhandled. The alternative was far, far worse.
âTen point eight nine centimeters⌠approximately four-and-a-quarter inches⌠fascinatingâŚâ
Ford could hardly believe what he was seeing, let alone holding. He took some horizontal measurements of her torso before pinching her arm and holding it out to get her wingspan. He was amazed he could feel the way her muscles twitched and tried to pull away, no matter how hopeless the effort. Her arm felt lighter than a toothpick between his fingers. In fact, her entire body probably weighed no more than an ounce. Probably less. Heâd have to make a scale sensitive enough to find out.
She was thrashing in his grip, and for a moment, Ford felt guilty. He supposed being dangled in the air wasnât fun, but he had told her twice now that he wasnât going to hurt her, and it would be much more comfortable for her to stay still.
âYouâre certainly a feisty one,â Ford muttered to himself, jotting down another number. âIt feels like your strength is quite great, proportional to your size. I wonderâŚâ
Jay didnât like the sound of that at all. But in classic Ford fashion, she didnât have time to think. Just as promptly as she was picked up, she was plopped right back into the jar, her head spinning, her muscles aching.
She mustered up enough energy to get to her feet. âYOU CANâT LEAVE ME HERE!â Jay shouted with all her might, and by some miracle, Ford heard her. His head whipped down, peering at her like she just spilled a secret only he knew. She flinched.
âMy, your voice projection is much greater than I would have thought capable.â No matter what she actually said. âWere you shouting, or is that your normal level of speech?â
Jay was confounded by the question. He was captivated by the most mundane things. Of course she was yelling. The context of what she said should make it seem obvious. But he clearly didnât hear her â not really.
âHm. Iâd imagine you were likely projecting. The glass probably absorbs a good bit of soundâŚâ he trailed off, head back in his journal once again.
A terrible thought occurred to Jay. If Ford wouldnât even let her answer the questions he was asking her directly⌠was he going to listen when he didnât ask? Would he even realize she was talking? Would he ever hear her?
As she craned her neck to look up at him, she suddenly realized there was a sharp, nagging pain pulsing at the base of her head, right where her shirt collar was tugging at her. She rubbed it and immediately felt a rash. She closed her eyes, hoping for just a second where the world would stop spinning and she could get her bearings. Ford was touchy. He was inconsiderate. He lived in his own world. He would never listen to her, never let her go. So what could she do, to get out of this mess she made?
Unbeknownst to her, Ford had noticed that sheâd gone still. He put his pen down in the spine of his open journal as he regarded her with something he usually didnât with his discoveries â concern. Ford was science-minded, but he wasnât an idiot. She was in clear distress. He must have been missing something. None of the other things heâs discovered have reacted like this; sure, the more beastly creatures didnât know what was happening, and therefore needed to be contained. But she wasnât the first intelligent being heâs found. The gnomes were quite pleased to have someone take such a liking to them. The fairies were dismissive, but begrudgingly obliged. Even the zombies responded in grunts. Did this â she â need to be in a jar? Probably. She clearly intended to bolt the first chance she got, and Ford couldnât let a discovery of this magnitude go quite yet. Not when he had so many things he needed to ask. Not when he was this close.
But she seemed smarter than the gnomes. More aware of what was going on. She knew she was being observed and measured. Maybe Ford needed to incentivize her somehow.Â
And then he remembered.
Without a word, he stood up and shuffled to the side. The tiny thing didnât even notice. He rummaged through the cabinets, trying to find something he could use. Cans of soup? No. Cereal? Maybe. More cans, this time vegetables. Yeesh. They needed better food.
He settled on the Cheerios. Honey nut, to be exact. Fiddleford liked a little bit of sweetness.
Jay pried her eyes open and turned her head when she heard the crinkling of a bag. She breathed in disbelief. Was he really about to bribe her?
âIâve noticed your footprints in the kitchen,â Ford began, sticking his hand into the box. Jay clenched her jaw. How have I been leaving behind footprints? âI canât imagine your stomach holds much, if your anatomy is even the same as a normal humanâs. Have you come here for food, or something else?â
Jay wasnât sure how to answer that. Yes. No. Both? Everything?
Ford waited a few seconds for a response and got nothing. âHave you ever tried Cheerios? I like the plain ones, but these honey ones are all we have at the moment.â
Nothing. Ford kept going.
âWell, I imagine youâre quite hungry. Your body must burn a tremendous amount of energy at that tiny size just to stay alive.â He pulled a single Cheerio from the bag, marveling at it for a moment. Something he could pinch to dust with his fingertips must be the size of a beach ball to her. âBesides, I found you in the kitchen, so you must have been hunting for food to begin with." He lifted the jar, too quickly for her to realize what was happening, and slipped the Cheerio inside.
âThere,â he said, feeling satisfied. âAll yours.â
Jay stared at it like it was a bomb.
âGo on now,â Ford nudged. He had crouched down lower now, his face level with the jar. âItâs for you.â It sounded like he was speaking to a stray animal.
â...or what?â
Fordâs expression perked up at her voice. âNothing. I want to keep asking you questions, so I figured a little food might help you along.â
Jay blinked. âYouâre just⌠giving it to me?â
âYes.â
âJust like that?â
âJust like that.â
âAnd I donât have to⌠you wonâtâŚâ
Ford raised an eyebrow. âI hardly think Iâll miss a few Cheerios.â
Jay was awestruck. He was being serious. This wasnât some kind of sinister trick. At least he was candid about one thing â he wasnât going to stop questioning her. There was probably nothing she could do to talk him out of it. But he had clearly recognized her intelligence on some level and was trying to placate her, however patronizing it was.
And then it hit her.
She could bargain.
â...how many more of those do you have?â
Ford tilted his head. âThe cereal? The entire bag, practically.â He tilted the box at her, and she saw it was indeed nearly full. âPlenty for you, though I suspect you could only handle two at most before getting full.â
Jay did her best to ignore that. She had to be smart about this. Careful. One wrong move and â
âWould you be willing to answer more questions if I supplied you with food every day? Perhaps water?â
Jackpot.
âUmâŚâ she was really hamming it up now. âYouâd really do that?â
Ford shrugged. âI donât see why not. Itâs not like youâll exhaust my supply or anything. Though I must say, youâve been putting quite a dent in the bread. Fiddleford thought we had mice.â
That made her stop for real. So they did notice. Gah! How could she be so careless? This is why borrowers always move. This is why she was told to never get comfortable.
But did she not have all the comfort in the world ahead of her, if only she answers a few questions?
âWell?â
Ford was staring at her, wide-eyed, no doubt electrified that he was even bargaining with a being as big as his thumb right now. Jay sighed. She couldnât believe she was about to sign her life away to a mad scientist for a little bit of food. But it wasnât just that, was it? It was food, water, shelter, and protection from the outside world. If she was Fordâs little prized possession, he would make sure nothing ever hurt her. She would be safe here, even if she was under a microscope.
It was worth it. She had to keep repeating it. This is worth it. Not dying is worth it.
â...Okay.â
Ford beamed brightly. The next word came out of Jayâs mouth before she could stop herself.
âButâ!â
Ford had moved to grab his journal, but paused when she said that, turning his attention fully back to her. She shuddered. She wasnât sure sheâd be able to get used to that stare. It wasnât exactly the kind of look that made her confident to say what she was about to say.
âI⌠you⌠you canât keep me in this jar.â She searched his face for a reaction, but he gave none. He was simply observing. âItâs â you â you need to let me out.â She thought for a second, then added, âPlease.â
Ford kept staring, mouth agape, trying to make sure he just heard her properly. Jay gulped. I think I just made a big mistake.
~~~
âWell?â
Jay blinked. Ford was gone. Stan was here.
âWell what?â
âWhat next? What did Ford do? Did he let you out?â
âNo, he never did. Iâve been stuck in that jar ever since. A harrowing tale.â
Stan rolled his eyes and smiled. âCâmon, squirt. Iâm serious. Yâcanât leave me hanging!â
âThis isnât exactly fun for me to recount, you know. Maybe you should tell me something from your childhood.â
âOh, no. Donât go turning this around on me. I asked first, and you havenât finished yet.â
âFine, fine.â Jay studied him. âYou⌠donât seem surprised.â
âHA!â Jay jumped at the noise. âKid, this is the least surprising thing Iâve ever heard. The only thing that shocked me was that he actually offered you somethinâ to eat.â
âMe too, honestly. I thought Iâd have to beg.â
Stan looked like he was going to make a joke out of that, but refrained. âHoney nut Cheerios, eh? Iâll have to remember that.â
Jay smirked. âIt canât possibly be that hard to remember.â
âOh? What was that? Looks like I already forgot.â
âYouâre insufferable,â she muttered with a dry smile. âCan I continue now?â
âYeah, yeah.â Stan waved his hand. âBut can you hurry it up? Iâm getting bored with all this buildup and detail. Get to the drama!â
âFine, fine. I guess itâs time for you to finally meet Fiddleford.â
a small surprise holiday chapter! (gravity falls g/t)
merry christmas and happy hanukkah everyone! i had planned on putting out a new chapter, but the flu absolutely kicked my ass, leaving me no energy or time to write what i wanted. luckily, i had been working on this holiday chapter as a fun little aside, so consider this my holiday gift to you all for being the best g/t enjoyers i could ask for. the idea was born from a hc of stan hating christmas music, and it spiraled from there. i hope you all have a wonderfully amazing day celebrating whatever holiday you celebrate! :)
Stan kicked his foot back and slammed the door behind him. His arms were cradling two brown paper bags filled to the brim, the contents of which nearly fell to the floor as he ambled inside. âMy brain is about to fall out of my ears! Make it stop!â
Jay looked up, surprised. Stan was back from the store sooner than she would have thought. âWhat?â she asked, a bit groggy. She knew by now that Stanâs tone didnât always match the situation he found himself in. âWhatâs going on?â
âChristmas music. Christmas music everywhere!â Stan cried, throwing the bags onto the table with little grace. Jay scooted to the side as an apple rolled by a bit too close for comfort. âOn the radio, at the grocery store, in my head. Itâs an epidemic!â He flipped his hood down. He wasnât done yet. âOh, and this new song. Itâs horrible. And the radio wonât stop playing it! What kind of idiot would give his heart away again after getting it broken the year before?! And you know, thereâs too much synth in music nowadays. Canât we go back to the good olâ days of real men playing real instruments?â
Jay laughed, taking a long sip of tea from her thimble before setting it aside. Listening to Stan complain was free entertainment.Â
âYou should be glad youâre tiny, kid,â Stan continued, head buried in the fridge. âYou donât have to worry about the stressors of human life. Like, how am I supposed to make Maâs latkes with these terrible potatoes?â He held one up, presumably for her to see it in all its disgrace, but it looked like normal food to her.
âLatkes?â Jay asked, tilting her head.
She jumped when Stan slammed the fridge shut. âDonât tell me.â
Jay raised an eyebrow. âTell youâŚ?â
âIf you donât know what latkes are, then that means⌠no. He wouldn't!â
âWhat? He wouldnât what?â Jay repeated, unsure as to who he even was in this situation.Â
âPoindexter never told you about Hanukkah?!â
Jay shrugged wildly. Something told her he wasnât being dramatic this time. âNo? Is it some kind of holiday?â
Stan looked like he wanted to cry. âSome kind of holiday?! Itâs THE holiday, kid! How could Ford not have told you?âÂ
âI donât know! I guess he just⌠didnât want to? Whatâs the big deal, anyway?â
âWHATâS THE BIG DEAL!â Stan repeated in utter bewilderment. He took a deep breath as Jay gave him a side-eye. âYou know about Christmas, right?â
Jay nodded. âYeah. Fidds told me about it. Ford didnât really seem to care, though.â
âYeah, of course he didnât care,â Stan said, crossing his arms. âWeâre Jewish!â
Now Jay was really confused, and she didnât have to say anything for Stan to know. His face contorted into a look nothing short of horror.
âYou lived with my brother â a Pines â for years and never even knew he was Jewish!â Stan cried, putting his hand over his forehead and dramatically slinking down. âOh, the humanity!âÂ
Jay rolled her eyes. âI think youâre overreacting.â
âAbsolutely not, kid. This is important stuff.â
âSo, are you going to tell me what⌠han-ah-kah is? Or are you just going to faint about it?â
âYouâre not saying it right,â Stan grumbled as he pulled himself back up. âAlright, alright. Iâm just⌠surprised Poindexter never did anything for it, thatâs all.â
âIs it⌠like Christmas?â Jay asked carefully. She didnât want to actually offend Stan. This was clearly very important to him.Â
âKinda, yeah,â Stan said, a wicked grin spreading across his face. âExcept better.â
âBetter?â
âBetter. Christmas, itâs only one day, right? Hanukkah is eight.â
Jay was intrigued. She had never heard of a human holiday that lasted more than a day.
âYeah, I see youâre impressed. Thereâs presents, food, games⌠itâs basically a big weeklong party! And you get to light a new candle on the menorah every day until the last, thatâs always my favorite part. Guess Ford never set one up, huh?â
Jay shook her head, but something else came to mind. âFidds⌠he brought a tree inside one year. Is that normal?â
âYeah, for those weird Christmas people, it is.â
âI got so mad at him.â Jay shook her head with a faint smile. âLike, who brings a tree inside like that? What if a clan used it as their home?â
âDonât worry, kid, we wonât be having any trees inside this house as long as Iâm in charge. But we should go out and get a menorah. I really would have thought Poindexter would have one hereâŚâ
Jay wracked her brain in case she was somehow forgetting about this holiday, but nothing came to mind; especially not this menorah he was talking about. âSo⌠the... menorah, is like a candle holder.â
Stan shrugged. âA little simplistic, but sure.â
âAnd the latkesâŚâ
âPotato pancakes,â Stan explained. âBasically, you shred some potatoes, add some onion, egg and flour, and fry the whole sucker up. Maâs secret is to put a little bit of cheese and zucchini in it.â Stanâs gaze seemed to turn distant. âHeh, she knocked âem dead every year. Mrs. Levin never knew what hit her, that miserable old hag. Maâs latkes are the best in all of New Jersey.â
Jayâs heart ached as Stan spoke. His entire demeanor changed any time he talked about his family or his childhood. It was like he was an entirely different person.
âYou⌠never talk about your family much,â Jay started, preparing for blowback, but it never came. Instead, Stan shot her a look of⌠almost hurt. âBesides Ford, I mean. Your momâs recipe⌠it sounds nice.â
Stan seemed to soften at that. âHeh, yeah, it is, kid. We can make it later.â
âWe?â
âYeah, we. Hanukkah, itâs⌠itâs about celebrating community, and â togetherness. And right now, weâre all weâve got. So letâs go get us a menorah, and then youâre gonna eat so much potato your tiny little stomach will explode all over the place.â
Jay sniffed a laugh. âThatâs gross.â
âYeah, like youâd ever turn down food,â Stan smirked. Jay rolled her eyes, but smiled. âNow, come on, pipsqueak, weâve got work to do.â
It was weird climbing into a mittened hand, but Jay understood it. She needed to bundle up even more than her human counterparts, but she had nothing from her old home. It was summertime when Ford found her, and by the time winter rolled around, it was firmly established that she was never going to leave the comfort of a heated house. She absentmindedly wondered if her stuff was still in her hiding spot as she ambled into Stanâs pocket, now lined with extra fur to keep her warm.
And warm she stayed, even as the snow pounded down on Stanleyâs car like little meteors. He knew she hated being inside a moving vehicle, and he wouldnât admit that was half the reason he parked it on the side of some random road and did the rest of the journey on foot. It wasnât that long of a walk into town, but finding a place that sold Hanukkah things would prove difficult.
Stan kept glancing down. He knew Jay wasnât going to pop out, especially in public, but it always worried him when she stopped moving in there. That anxiety compounded with his growing worry that he wasnât going to find what he was looking for. Every storefront had colorful lights, wreaths, trees, and Christmas decorations plastered on the windows â but not a single sparkle of silver and blue.
Until he reached the edge of town.
âJackpot!â Stanley cried. He had been wandering around so long that his face was numb, and even Jay was starting to get concerned.Â
The store was tiny; it was tucked at the end of a road that didnât even have a streetlight. But glowing bright as day in the center of the storeâs only window was a Star of David. Oh, sweet Sally, Stan thought, isnât this a sight for sore eyes!
The closer Stan got to the store, though, the more skeptical he became. Maybe the window was tinted, but it looked pretty dark inside, and there were no prints in the freshly fallen snow around the store; not even from a squirrel. This town already wasnât the most welcoming place, and now, standing alone in front of this mysterious store, Stan felt like he was on an island of his own. The blinking window sign underneath the dim streetlight reminded him too much ofâ
No, Stan thought, forcefully shaking his head. Itâs not like that. Not anymore. Not here.
Reluctantly, Stan pushed the door open, half expecting it to be locked. But a wave of warmth washed over him, nearly shocking him out of his negative thoughts. The lights were a soft, golden yellow, illuminating the aisles with an almost homey glow, like a thousand candles lit up at once. The store seemed to be more like a bodega than anything else, with shelves stocked to the brim with food, groceries and everything in between. Stan slowly shook the snow off his hood as he whisked it off his head. He could tell he was the only one here.
Jay couldnât take it anymore. Stanâs slowed pace was not the reaction of someone who excitedly found what he was looking for. So using all her strength, she sat up, grabbed the lip of the pocket and hoisted herself up so only her head was peeking out.Â
She was expecting to feel the cold, but she was instead greeted by the sweet feeling of a heated room. âStan?â she called, but he was too distracted to hear her. Jay frowned. âStan!â Nothing. She sucked in a deep breath. âSTANLEY PINES!â
That seemed to work. Stan blinked and peered down, surprised. âWhat? Whatâs the matter, tiny?âÂ
âWhatâs the matter? Arenât you gonna tell me whatâs going on? Where are we?â
Stan rubbed the back of his neck. He was too embarrassed to admit that he forgot she was there. âOh. Right.â He peeked around a bit more, taking a few cautious steps forward. He had to make sure he wasnât about to get kicked out. âI thought this place was golden, just what I was lookinâ for â but Iâm not so sure now.â
âWhat? Why not?â
âWell⌠I dunno.â He began to wander down an aisle. âIt kind of feels like home.â
Jay furrowed her brow. âIsnât that⌠a good thing?â
Stan absentmindedly picked up a microwavable cup of noodles and sighed. âThereâs a lot I havenât told you, kid.â
Jay didnât even have time to ponder what that meant. The heavy sound of footsteps was unmistakable. She dove back into the pocket just as the echo of boots stopped reverberating.
âCan I help you, son?â
Stan flinched, almost throwing the noodles back onto the shelf. âI was gonna pay for that!â
The man raised an eyebrow, but nothing more. He was tall and stately, wearing a bright red pullover with a white collared shirt and a tie underneath. His glasses were far too big for his face, and it only seemed to amplify his curious eyes. A small brown mustache sat snugly on his top lip.
âRough weather outside, huh?â
âYeahâŚâ Stan took a small step back.Â
âHuh, itâs really cominâ down,â the man remarked, brushing past Stan to peer out the window. âWas just about to close up, in fact. Youâre the only customer Iâve had in two hours.â
Stanâs face flushed red. Now he felt stupid. âOh. Sorry for wastinâ your time, sir.â
The man waved his hand dismissively. âCome now.â
âSeriously, I should be going ââ Â
âNonsense. What are you looking for? An easy-to-make dinner before Christmas?â
âNo, really, itâs okay, Iââ Stan stopped, wondering if he should even bother explaining. Maybe he just had the star in his window because he thought it looked nice. But it smells too much like home to be a coincidence. Stan stole a glance at the man, who was eyeing him expectantly. âWell, I, uh, I celebrate Hanukkah, actually.â
To Stanâs surprise, the man just smiled. âI thought as much.â
âWhat â how did youââ
âSometimes⌠you just know,â the man said with a smile too sweet to be phony. âYouâll understand one day when youâre my age.â
Stan chuckled. He couldnât imagine himself being that old.
âI think I have just what youâre looking for,â the man said, beckoning Stan to follow him. He did, silently, shooting glances at the shelves as if something would jump out from them. He looked down when he felt a small movement in his pocket. He gave Jay a shrug before she slipped back in.
âNow, itâs a little small,â the man started, climbing up a small ladder. âAnd a little old, too. But I think it should do you just fine.â
Jay was too curious for her own good. She poked her head out, gawking up at the man.
âWhat is he doing?â she whisper-shouted, causing Stan to jump.
âI dunno! Get back in there!â he snapped, pushing her down with his fingertip. She made a muffled noise of protest, but didnât fight back.
âWill this do?â
Stan nearly burst into tears at the sight in front of him. It was a little small, but it was also a rich, milky gold, like it had just come out of the box. On top of the center pillar was a Star of David, and the features were ornate, but timeless.
Stan took it in his hands, turning it over carefully like it was made of glass.
âItâs perfect,â he breathed.
The man smiled as he hopped down. âGood. And donât forget this.â He motioned for Stan to open his hand, and he dropped a dreidel into his gloved palm. âNow, you better hurry on home. Wouldnât want you getting stuck in the snow.â
Stan blinked in shock. âAre â are you sure? I have money, I swearââ He fished around his pockets. Not much came out.
âNo, no, please,â the man insisted. âThis wasnât for sale, anyway. It was actually my motherâs.â
âYour motherâs â I canât have this, then! My ma would neverââ
âBut mine would,â he cut him off, putting on a serious face that made Stan pause. âBesides, she owns at least 10. She wonât miss this one.â
Despite himself, Stan laughed. âTen? Must have one big family.â
The man shook his head. âOh, no. Just me and my brother. She just really likes her menorahs.â
âHuh.â For once, Stan was speechless.
The man began ushering Stan forward. âGo on now. Itâs getting late.â
âOkay, okay,â Stan said, hurrying to the front of the store. âI, uh⌠thank you, sir.â
âThink nothing of it.â He smiled that sunshine smile again. âChag sameach, and be well, son.â
Stan could only give a solemn nod on his way out; the Hebrew he learned as a child suddenly found its way to the front of his mind, but all the words were caught in his throat. He didnât say a single word on his journey back, and Jay didnât know what to say. Something told her silence was for the better right now.
When they finally got home, Stan felt lighter. The first thing he did after putting his new possessions down was dig into his pocket and fish Jay out. He chuckled at her half-sleeping face of confusion at the abrupt change in altitude and scenery. He forgot how weary she got in the cold.
âYou follow any of that, kid?â he asked, placing her gently on the counter.
âNot a single word,â she said with a smile.
âHah. Well, you and me both. He just⌠gave me these,â he said, gesturing to the two items. âAnd I donât know why.â
Jay got up and padded over to the menorah, taking it all in from her vantage point. It looked fun to climb. But she was even more intrigued by the dreidel, because, shockingly, it wasnât taller than her. She could actually pick it up and hold it â albeit, not for long.
âHm. Maybe he was just being nice.â
âPsh.â Stan rolled his eyes. âDoubt it. Nobodyâs ever that nice without a catch. Maybe thereâs a camera in here or somethinâ?â Stan swiped up the menorah and began inspecting it for tiny hidden gadgets.
âStanley,â Jay chided, groaning at how ridiculous he looked. âNot everyoneâs out to get you, you know.â
âThatâs rich, cominâ from you,â Stan snapped, sounding angrier than he actually was. âAnd the governments of at least three South American countries are definitely out to get me.â
Jay blinked a few times, caught off guard by his remark. He was right â that was funny, coming from her, the person who swore up and down that strange humans are not to be trusted. It was just so peculiar to her that Stan was just as untrusting. Humans werenât supposed to be like that.Â
Stan still felt on the defensive as he took off his coat. What did she know? She wasnât even a human. Stan knew humans better than anyone. Nobody was that nice.Â
Right?
âWhatâs this?â
Jayâs innocent question brought him back to reality. She was holding up the dreidel, clearly struggling to keep it upright. Stan smiled at the sight. âThatâs a dreidel, used to play a traditional Hanukkah game. Very distinguished. A classic, really.â
âWhatâs the game?â
Stan grinned. âGambling!â
It didnât take long to teach her the rules, even throwing in a quick Hebrew lesson, but they quickly learned they didnât have anything of value to wager. It didnât matter, though. The real entertainment came from watching her grab the little handle with both her hands and put her entire body into spinning the top. It took her a while to get the hang of it; she threw herself to the ground on the very first attempt, causing Stan to burst into laughter and Jay to rub her head in shame.
âYou didnât tell me it was going to be hard,â she blushed, trying not to sound as embarrassed as she felt.
âYou â HAH! You should have seen yourself!â Stan leaned back in his chair, wiping a genuine tear from his eye after a few more laughs. âYou spun more than the dreidel! HAH!â
âNot. Funny,â she grumbled, but her inability to hide her smile betrayed her.
âYouâre right. It was hilarious.â
âI donât think I like this game very much.â
âHuh. Funny. I like it more than I remember!â
âWhy donât you show me how itâs done, then,â Jay said, crossing her arms.
âFine! I will!â Very carefully, Stan pinched the handle between his fingers and held the dreidel upright. He took a moment, marveling at how a tiny wooden top could be as tall as a living being, before snapping his fingers with all his might. Jay yelped and jumped back, surprised at the force with which the dreidel spun. She watched, mesmerized, as it went round and round and round for at least 15 seconds before it started to slow. It clattered to a stop, with a symbol that looked like a backwards C on the top.
âAw, man! Thatâs nun. If we were playinâ for real, that would mean I do nothing and itâs your turn next.â
Determined not to make a fool of herself again, Jay insisted on lifting the top herself instead of having Stan put it upright for her. It took her a few tries, but she successfully got underneath and stood it back up. A few deep breaths later, and the top was spinning away.
âWoah!â Stan wasnât expecting her to actually do it! It didnât last long, but it definitely spun like a top, and it landed on hay. âThatâs hay. Youâd get half the damn pot if this was real!â
Jay beamed. âI like this game now.â
âOh, what have I done?â Stan laughed at her tiny, smug expression. âIâm gonna turn you into a good-for-nothing gambling addict like me.â
They spun the dreidel for at least an hour, until Jayâs limbs were so tired she could barely stand. Stan remembered about the peanuts he bought at the store earlier, and that was good enough to use as a wager. When all was said and done, Jay had 13 peanuts to Stanâs seven.
âDoes this mean I win?â she asked all too innocently, staring up at Stan with doe eyes.
âDonât play dumb, kid,â Stan mumbled lightheartedly. âYou know you kicked my ass.â
âYeah I did!â She looked at the peanuts like they were made of gold. âI beat the human at his own game.â
âWatch it now. Iâll stick you on top of the fridge and forget to take you down.â
âYou canât stop me!â Jay yelled, but her teasing may have gone too far. Stan raised an eyebrow, as if to say oh, really? And before Jay could realize her mistake, she was already dangling in the air.
âConsider yourself stopped,â Stan said with a grin.
âPut me down!â she cried, thrashing her legs around.
âHmm, let me think â nope!â He moved his hand to his shoulder and dropped her down. He had done this enough times by now to know how to be careful. âBesides, itâs latke time, and you need to watch.â
âI donât â need to do anything,â she said, grabbing onto the fabric of his shirt as he lurched forward.
âThis oneâs important,â Stan said, ignoring an opportunity to be sassy. âI havenât made Maâs latkes inâŚâ He trailed off. He couldnât remember.
Jay suddenly remembered what he had said before. Thereâs a lot I havenât told you. She wasnât very good with comforting words, but she found those werenât the best for Stan, anyway. He seemed to respond most to a gentle nudge.
âShow me how itâs done, Stanley Pines.â
Stan turned his head to his shoulder and smiled. âAlright, kiddo. Watch and learn.â
And watch and learn she did. Even if she had something to say, she would have been rendered speechless by the delicate touch Stan used to cook. Every movement had purpose; every shred of potato, every cube of butter, every shake of salt. He used a knife in ways Jay didnât realize could be done by humans. Stan explained every step, every flick of the wrist, and he even offered to try and let Jay do something, but she refused, not warning to get in the way of his mastery. The instant those lumps of potatoes hit the pan, sizzling with a sharpness rarely heard, Jay was overwhelmed with a scent that was so otherworldly she almost began to question everything about her existence. She didnât even know smells like this were possible. Had her whole life been this drab before?Â
âLike I said, Ma made these every year,â Stan said, poking the latke with a spatula. âShe was a mean cook, my Ma. Always made sure to save her best for the important occasions. Like when she could show off in front of the other moms. Sheâd make âem cry if she had to.â
âShe sounds⌠fun.â
âFun is definitely the best way to describe her. Maybe fierce, too.â Stan let the latke settle for a few more seconds before forcing the spatula underneath it and flipping. âThere was nothing she wouldnât do for her boys.â Stan stared into the pan as if in a trance. The loud pop of food snapped him back to reality. âWhat about you, huh? Tiny people must have close families, right?â
âSure, but⌠nothing like that.â Now it was Jayâs turn to be wistful. âI didnât know my mom very well. Not really. Well, itâs more like I donât really remember her.â She paused, giving Stan room to say something. He didnât. âIâm⌠not sure how it is for other borrowers. Not all of them are from the forest. But we kind of⌠travel in packs, I guess. Clans. So I was with my family, but also ten other families. But I was â they all spent a lot of time trying to reign me in. I was kind of the problem child.â
Now Stan wanted to say something âYou? A troublemaker?âÂ
âOh, yeah. I was⌠too curious for my own good.â The spaces between her words told Stan this wasnât something to pry about. ââS how your brother caught me in the first place. I was snooping around much too close. Closer than most borrowers even think of getting to a human. My parents kind of kept their distance from me. I gave them a bad reputation.â
A sharp pain surged through Stanâs chest. âWeâve got that in common, then,â he snorted, flipping the latke back over. âMy old man wanted nothinâ to do with me. No matter what I did, it seemed like I couldnât please him. Nothing I ever did was good enough. Now, Ford? In the eyes of my father, he could do no wrong. Poindexter was the only one worth anything to him.â Stan let the latke simmer as he reached to make another. âBut hey, it only made me stronger, right? I donât need anyone. Except you, to tell me how great these latkes are. Go ahead, try one.â
Stan had siphoned off a tiny piece and slid it to the side, placing her down right in front of it. Jay hopped off his hand, still a little freaked out at how casual she had gotten around Stan. But he had just cooked for her â really cooked. Not the microwave pasta Ford was accustomed to scarfing down only when Jay reminded him he hadnât eaten all day. Jay was ready to make fun of Stan for being bad at this, but it was clear she wouldnât be able to do that.Â
Carefully, she grabbed a strip of shredded potato and held it like a hoagie in her hands. She gave it a careful sniff first, then a tiny, tiny lick.
Stan couldnât take it anymore. âCome on, kid! Just take a bite!â
âOkay, okay!â Jay took a deep breath, gave it one more good look, then closed her eyes and chomped down.
She was going to remember that bite for the rest of her life.
âIâve⌠never had anything like this,â she said carefully, as if the food would evaporate from her fingertips. She bit off another piece, this time more like a wild animal. âI didn't⌠I didnât even know food had flavors like this.â
âHah, right, âcause youâve been living off a diet of roots and sticks,â Stan said with a laugh, shoving his own forkful of latke into his mouth. His smile faded when she looked at him like she didnât get the joke. He shuddered. âHow do you even have functioning taste buds?â
âI might not,â she said, totally serious. âThis is just⌠wow, Stanley. This is incredible.â
Stan ducked his head to hide his blush. âItâs nothinâ.â
âYou ate like this all the time growing up?â
âThis? Not all the time. But Maâs cooking⌠yeah. We ate this every day.â
Stan watched her eat like it was her first time trying food. Hell, it might as well have been. All the things Stan took for granted growing up and sorely missed now, he didnât realize just how special it was until Jay got to experience it all for the first time. Ever since getting kicked out, he had no time to think about the luxuries of dreidel and holidays and homemade latkes. But he was slowly beginning to realize these were things he didnât just cherish; he needed to cling to them desperately, as if any given day was his last one on Earth. There were creatures â people â out there who never even got to miss the taste of garlic and onions and butter.Â
And Jay showed him that every single day.
The two ate in silence, finishing up the potato pancakes in surprisingly quick fashion. Stan wordlessly refilled her water thimble and kept supplying her with more when he noticed she was running low. The only sound louder than their chewing was the snowfall outside. It was peaceful.
âWow.â Stan decided to break the silence. âThat was a hell of a meal.â
âSo this is what itâs like to feel full,â Jay quipped, only half-joking.
âI used to wonder why my old man always fell asleep after dinner. Now I know why.â
âYeah⌠Iâm beat,â Jay yawned, stretching her arms up high in the air. Stan felt his heart flutter like he was looking at a sleeping puppy. âI⌠I canât thank you enough for that, Stan. Really. It⌠means a lot, that you wanted to make that for me.â
Stan waved his hand dismissively. âItâs nothinâ, really. Now I donât know about you, but Iâm ready to sit in front of the TV for the rest of the night and do nothing. Whadda ya say?â
âSure, I could go for that.â Again, like second nature, Jay hopped onto Stanâs palm when he offered it to her. She wasnât even thinking twice about it anymore.Â
It turns out there wasnât much TV to watch â the storm was so strong, the only thing theyâd be watching was black and white static dance around on the screen. But it didnât matter, because the moment Stan sank into the chair, he was out like a light.
Perfect.
He awoke a few hours later, a little delirious and a lot tired. He glanced at the clock â it was half past 10. He grumbled as he rubbed his eyes, ready to head to the bedroom, when a small movement on the floor caught his eye.
âWhat theâŚ?â He blinked the sleep from his eyes, squinting hard at the floor. He expected to see a small animal, but instead it was⌠Jay?
It had been a while since Jay was on the floor like this, staring up at a human so far away they felt unattainable. She wasnât scared of Stan, not really, but her instinct couldnât be suppressed when his knee slammed down on the ground beside her, and he loomed like a mountain. A very confused mountain.
âKid, what are you doing on the floor?â Stan draped his arm over his knee as he bent down, heart aching at her unwittingly flinching at the movement. She was tiny. âActually, how did you even get on the floor?â
âI â I climbed down,â she stammered with a shrug. âNot important. UmâŚâ She was suddenly overcome with embarrassment. Should she even be doing this? Would he even appreciate it? Heâs probably going to think itâs so stupid!Â
âSpit it out, tiny,â Stan prompted. It was only then he noticed the square piece of paper she had behind her. âWhat is that?â
âItâs â um â you said Hanukkah was all about giving, right?â
Stan raised an eyebrow. âYeahâŚâ Where was she going with this?
âWell, um, I â I couldnât stop thinking about how⌠how much kindness youâve shown me. Since day one, really, after you took me out of that jar. You could have â you were well within your rights to throw me outside and tell me to scram. But you⌠allowed me to be warm, and fed. And Iââ
âJust get to the point, kid!â At this point, Stanâs face was redder than a beet. He wasnât used to this feeling.
âI⌠got you something,â she said finally, like the words had been forced out of her. âItâs not much, really, and I â I didnât make it or anything, but itâsââ
âGimme that,â Stan said, reaching for the paper behind her. She gawked at his arm towering so far above her and shuffled to the side as his fingers pinched the paper.Â
Stan instantly began to cry.
âItâs this... photo, of Ford, see? And Iâm in there too, but you canât really tell,â Jay began, wringing her hands together and actively avoiding eye contact. âHe was trying to take a⌠picture? Of us? He said he wanted it for his collection â which I thought was a science thing, but it turns out, it was a personal thing. He gave it to me as a gift, just something for me to have, I guess, and⌠I thought youâd want to see it. Keep it. I dunno, itâs stupid, Iâm sorryââ
âDonât,â Stan choked out, surprised to hear his own voice crack. âItâs ââ he couldnât even get the words out. He didnât know when this was taken, and he suspected she didnât quite know either, but Ford was beaming, happier than Stan remembered he could get, wearing a brown sweater vest over a bright blue shirt. On the table, barely a speck in the polaroid, was Jay, looking confused. Stan laughed a wet, sobbing laugh. It was stupid. It was perfect.
âIâm glad you like it,â Jay ventured to say, taking a step closer. âJust something to remind you of⌠what weâre working for, here, I guess. Together.â
âTogether,â Stan repeated. He sniffed a few times, scrubbing the tears from his cheeks. âWhere did you even â you went all the way downstairs to get this?â
âOh, no, it was just⌠I used to sleep in Fordâs room, too,â she explained timidly. She knew she was going to have to reveal this eventually. âA lot of my stuff is still in there, actually. I just got it from there.â
That seemed to get his attention. He narrowed his eyes at her, suddenly uncomfortable with the way he towered over her tiny frame. âThis whole time? Youâve had all your stuff there this whole time and never told me about it?â
âI didnâtâ!â She took a breath. âI didnât⌠know if I could trust you.â Then she took a bold step forward. âBut I know now.â
Stan didnât know what to say, but she didnât need him to say anything. He was surprised at how well he was able to read her movements and facial expressions from all the way down there. He was going to have a hard time admitting the person he felt closest and most connected to in over 10 years was so small that a kernel of popcorn was a three-course meal. But she had made it beyond clear that trusting a human was the hardest thing anyone could do, and Stan tended to agree. People were mean and nasty. Unforgiving. Unrelenting. Never satisfied, no matter how hard he worked. But Jay was different. The smallest actions were enough to her. She just needed to be warm. To eat, to drink, to feel safe. It had taken this long for both of them to realize that safety was confined to these four walls and the people inside them.
For the final time that night, Stan gently lowered his hand to the floor, and she climbed right on. Wordlessly, he went back to the kitchen to get the menorah, taking it into Fordâs room â his room â their room â and softly closing the door. He flicked his lighter on and reveled in the soft crackle of the flame burning the wick. He sat down on the bed, watching the fire dance lightly atop the candle, its faint glow barely illuminating the room. But it was enough.
The two fell asleep that night, watching the candle together, sitting in silence. In one hand, Jay was curled up, so snug she didnât even care it was a humanâs plan. In the other, the photo of Ford, his smile rivaling the afternoon sun, happy to be in someoneâs company.
And they still had seven more days of this to cherish.
This isn't a question. Just wanted to tell you how much I enjoy your writing, especially the older Marvel GT, like the Bucky Barnes, and Peter Quill and a teenage borrower. Thanks!
đđđ thank you so much omg!!! you really made my day with this, it warms my heart that people still enjoy those stories so much đŤś
It was hard, but not as hard as Jay thought it would be.
She had always been curious about humans, more so than any borrower sheâd ever known. It was part of the reason she was shunned from so many forest clans, but she hardly cared. If she was known as the house dweller, then so be it. She didnât hide in cowardice and let fear control her life. She had a sense of adventure. She had freedom.
Perhaps thatâs what drew her to Ford in the first place. She knew how dangerous humans could be, but she knew how to be careful. She could safely observe him from a distance â or so she thought. As it turned out, she really didnât know what she was getting into with him, but she couldnât look away. His curiosity and enthusiasm for the weird and unknown was downright infectious. And yeah, it was terrifying. But it was also exhilarating.
Stanley had this way of capturing her attention, too, though she still didnât quite understand how. It certainly wasnât his sparkling personality or his kindhearted generosity. It was⌠something more intangible. Maybe it was the way he was so beyond dedicated to fixing the portal, something he would be the first to admit made absolutely zero sense to him, to the point where he wouldnât even realize â or care â that he was working nonstop through the night. Maybe it was the way he would very sloppily eat, leaving crumbs strewn about that he conveniently forgot to clean up, or heâd break off a piece of food and slowly push it across the table when he thought she wasnât looking. Or maybe it was just because heâs the closest thing to Ford that Jay was ever going to see again.
So even after the entire incident, even when Jay couldnât close her eyes without feeling an inexplicable pressure rushing down on her, even when she shook like it was minus 20 degrees, she didnât run. She sure thought about it, but in her mind, if she wasnât 100% committed, then she wasnât going to do it, because a significant part of her didnât want to leave the house. She had gotten so used to it, finally, a place she never had to leave or hide or worry. She supposed this is why borrowers were never supposed to meet humans â complacency and comfort were dangerous things. But sheâd be damned if Fordâs stupid meathead of a brother drove her from the one place she finally felt at home. She had earned this. She had to be better than him. She had to get Ford back. And even if she did manage to get herself off the table without suffering a major injury, it would only be a matter of time before she needed to come out again for food and water.
Plus, it was the dead of winter, and living on her own without a proper shelter would be deadly. Maybe she could find a warm corner in the walls, far enough away from Stan that heâd never find her, but that was a lot of work she didnât have the energy for. She briefly contemplated the attic, but quickly dismissed it. Too many triangles.
The day after the incident was, admittedly, rough. And awkward. Neither of them wanted to say a word to the other, but Stan was clearly surprised to see her still on the table come morning. Besides a very long stretch of eye contact, he barely acknowledged her, but was clearly nervous to make any sudden movements and produce any loud noises. Jay didnât really know what to do, and she was effectively marooned on the table, so she curled up around the stack of books and continued to sit in turmoil about, well⌠everything.Â
âYou, uh, want to keep staying here for the night? On the table, I mean.â
Jay snapped back to attention. It felt like Stan had just gotten down here. He had been working for 10 nonstop hours.Â
âUm.â She wasnât expecting to speak today. Her lip trembled as she gazed up at him. âItâs fine.â
âOkay then,â Stan replied, voice as neutral as sheâs ever heard it. He stared at her for a good, long while, trying to figure out what heâd do if he came back down here tomorrow and she was gone. She was looking back at him as if he was about to strike. âItâs just â you, uh, youâve been sitting on that table for like, a week now.â Huh. Has it really been that long? âJust thought you might â I dunno, get bored or something. And itâs freezing down here.âÂ
âItâs fine,â she repeated after a moment, mostly because her brain was too fried to come up with more words. But she didnât like what he was implying, anyway. If she was going to get off the table, it would be on her terms.
Stan felt a slight frustration bubble up inside him, and judging by the way she reacted, it was written all over his face. He gave a quick sigh and opened his mouth to speak, but found he didnât really have anything to say, so he left in an uncomfortable silence.
Over the next few days, though, it got better. Conversations were few and far between, but Jay mostly watched him work. It was actually kind of mesmerizing, the way he moved around so effortlessly and had a kind of raw strength not even Ford possessed. He was lifting pieces of metal and pushing around gigantic barrels that the two scientists used to need all their combined strength to even budge. He had stopped asking her for help, instead burying his face in the journal in an attempt to understand it all by himself. How much good that did him, Jay couldnât quite tell, but he had managed to put a lot of the broken pieces back together, even if nothing actually turned on.Â
Today had started mostly quiet, but as the hours passed, the curse words became more frequent and the slamming down of tools became a common occurrence. Stan was hitting a wall. He needed a drink.
âHey, short stack, where does Poindexter keep the extra drinks?â
Jay peeked an eye open. She didnât even hear him reenter the room. Had she been asleep all this time? âUh oh, donât tell me you passed out again.â
Jay pushed herself up on shaky arms. She had been sleeping a lot lately...Â
âUm, Iâm fine. And, I dunno⌠the fridge?â
âThe fridge is empty. Drank up all his sodas and⌠other beverages. I need to know where the extra cases are. Poindexterâs always stocked up.â
âExtra cases?â Jay was hesitant. This felt like a trick. âWouldnât it⌠just be whatâs in the fridge?â
âHavenât you seen this place? Itâs ready for the apocalypse. Besides, youâve been here longer than I have, right?â Stan asked rhetorically, pulling up the stool and plopping down above her. Jay recoiled a bit, but regained her composure with a curt nod. âShouldnât you know where he keeps things?â
âYeah, well, Iââ she stopped. âI mean, you saw him before he⌠you know.â Jay shuddered at the memory. âHe wasnât entirely himself. I dunno where he might have put stuff.â
âYeah, he pointed a crossbow at my face after sending me a postcard to come see him,â Stan grumbled, crossing his arms. He had tried his hardest to avoid thinking about that night. âEven after all these years⌠it didnât feel like my brother.â
Jay nodded somberly. âYeah.â
A sharp silence fell over the two. Their minds both swirled with questions about Ford; their time knowing him seemed to perfectly fill in the gaps that existed within both their relationships. Ford never talked about his time pre-Gravity Falls, except while reminiscing about college. Stan could tell her all about that. And Jay knew everything heâd been up to out on the west coast. But neither wanted to ask the other, and neither wanted to admit they were curious. So the silence stretched out until Jay was forced to ask the obvious, more pressing question.
âIs there⌠no food left? At all?â
Stan sat still for a moment. âNot really.â
âOh.â Jay fiddled with her fingers. âShouldnât you, um⌠go buy some more, then?â
Despite trying to be as delicate as possible, she knew she made a mistake the moment the words left her mouth. Normally, the comment wouldnât have bothered Stan so much, but he was at his witâs end today, and he wasnât in the mood to be bossed around. When he got particularly frustrated, there was only one rule â donât say anything provoking. Just smile and nod and agree with everything he says. Jay was still learning.
âWhat did you just say?â
Jay shook her head. âNothing, I was just â I meant ââ
âNo, I donât think you understand. Youâre not in charge here, you realize that, right?â A shadow passed over Stanâs face, and Jay clung to the cloth to hide her trembles. âYou canât tell me what to do. Nobody tells me what to do. Ever. Got it?â
Jay nodded her head vigorously, her gaze flickering between Stanâs giant, angry face and his giant, twitchy hands. âSorry, itâs just â I thought humans needed to eat every day, thatâs all.â
Stan gave her a look she could only describe as baffled. âWhat?â
âI â I meant ââ Jay stuttered, her expression reserved. âWhatâs confusing about that?â
âYou just called me human.â
Jay was even more confused now. âIsnât that â yeah, thatâs what you are.â
âWell, yeah, I guess, but ââ Stan stopped, unsure where to go from there. He could practically feel the gears in his brain turning, trying to figure out why she worded that so weirdly, when he remembered that word she called herself â borrower. Clearly, there was a distinction to her. âWhat, and you donât have to eat every day?â
She shrugged sheepishly. âNot⌠really. I can go a while without food or water.â
âHuh.â Stan didnât think it would be any different. He suddenly felt stupid for leaving her food crumbs every day. âThatâs, uh. Thatâs strange.â
Jay didnât say anything. What could she say?
Stan cleared his throat after a moment. âWell, Iâm, uh⌠I guess I gotta go get some groceries, then.â
Jay blinked until realizing Stan was waiting for a response. âOh. Okay.â
He pressed his palms on the table on either side of her and stood up, nearly causing Jay to fall backwards. Instead, she simply gawked at him as he walked toward the exit.
He stopped, though, and turned back around to look at her. They both stared.
âWhat?â Jay finally asked.
âWhat?â Stan repeated.
âWhy are you just staring at me?â
âYouâre the one staring at me!â
âWell, yeah, Iâm waiting for you to leave!â
âWhy? What are you gonna do when Iâm gone?â
âNothing! You just said you were leaving! So Iâm waiting!â
Stan peered at her, taking a step closer. âNow I donât trust you.â
âWhâwhat could I possibly do!â Jay cried, throwing her arms out.
âI dunno, but youâre crafty. And trust me, I would know.â
âCâmon, thereâs nothing I could evenââ
âWhat if youâve just been waiting for me to leave, and you try and sabotage that journal? Or mess with the portal somehow? I canât take that chanceâŚâ
Before Jay could even process what that meant, her entire world was swept out from under her. She felt a familiar pressure on her stomach and back, and the blood rushed to her head as Stan pinched her waist and lifted her into the air. For a moment, everything was blurry, and then, darkness. She was flipped upside down on her back like a bug, comically flailing her limbs to swing herself upright. She eventually reached forward and grasped something soft, pulling herself up to her knees.
She knew this feeling all too well.
Stan lurched forward, not stopping for a second, his mission apparent. Jay used all her strength to grip the lip of his pocket and pull herself up.
âSTANLEY!!!â she yelled at the top of her lungs. âYOU CANâT DO THIS! PUT ME BACK DOWN!â
Stan looked down â well, he tried to. All she could see was the underside of his chin, and all he could see was his red coat.Â
âI canât? Looks like I already did, kid,â he said mockingly. âIf I canât trust you to stay outta trouble, then you gotta come with me. Simple as that.â
âSTANâ!â she would have yelled more, but she was thrown around when he stopped walking. âYou canât â Iâm not supposed to ââ
âIf youâre worried someoneâs gonna see you, trust me, they wonât,â he said, summoning the elevator. âIâm just goinâ into town for a minute and leaving. I donât wanna be there long.â
âYou donât understand, people in this town, theyâre ââ she stopped, realizing her voice was shaking more than she wanted it to. âTheyâre â theyâre too â curious for their own good, sometimes.â
âItâs cute of you to worry for me,â Stan said, stepping out onto the main floor. Jay squeaked in surprise as Stan gently pressed his finger down, pushing her fully into the pocket. âNow, pipe down unless you want everyone staring at us.â
âSTAN!â she cried, but mainly out of frustration. He was right â she wanted no attention from those lunatics. But it wasnât the fact that she was being brought into town that bothered her; it was that she was being brought into town against her will. In about 30 seconds, she had gone from sitting on the table by herself to being forcibly shoved into a dirty, smelly pocket. And it was dirty. Paper clips, lint balls, gum wrappers. Why was he even putting these things in his breast pocket, anyway? It was hard not to feel like just another piece of junk rattling around, destined to be forgotten.
Honestly, maybe it would be better to be forgotten. Why did Stan think she was going to do something to the portal? Itâs not like she was never left alone down there. Some days, he actually remembered to go upstairs and sleep in an actual bed and not with his head down on the desk. Jay could have done anything during that time. But maybe trying to find logic in Stanâs actions was just a fruitless effort. He was just so â unpredictable. She never knew what he was going to say, how he was going to react. Any little thing could set him off. One second, he would be delicate, and the next, heâd grab her because he felt like it. She wasnât sure how to work around that, or if she even could.Â
The long trip gave her extra time to think, and her mind drifted to Ford. It was beginning to hit her that she may never see him again. Stan was admittedly noble for trying to figure out the portal, but it didnât take Ford-level brains to see that he was probably not going to figure it out anytime soon, despite his efforts to make it work by sheer force. And he couldnât seem to figure out if he actually wanted Jayâs help or just wanted to ride some kind of sadistic power trip over her. She figured he didnât know, either.
She missed her playful banter with Ford. She missed when she would do something completely normal and he would treat it like a scientific breakthrough. She missed asking him about human stuff. She missed telling him all about borrowers as he excitedly jotted down, word-for-word, whatever she said. Ford was everything she knew a human could be. He cared about her struggles. Even if he didnât fully understand, even if he didnât always do the right thing, he tried, and that was all that mattered. And in all likelihood, she was never going to experience that again. Maybe it wasnât meant to last more than a few years. Maybe that was all it was ever going to be.
High above her, Stan was caught up in his own turmoil. He tried to pretend that he wasnât harboring a tiny being in his pocket, but he would be lying if he said he wasnât laser focused on the little weight in his pocket. He found himself wondering how it felt to be in there â carted around by a huge person, stuffed in a hot, tiny space. He would hate it. She probably did, too.
He couldn't decide if he liked her or thought she was disgusting. It was hard to imagine her being all that clean; but then again, he wasnât exactly the shining example of hygiene. But she could get her little grimy hands all over his stuff! Like some kind of â little rat person. It all felt so unnatural. It was like having a pet he could talk to; but a pet with a really, really high IQ.Â
Stan was a little baffled and a lot embarrassed at how much smarter she was than him. He supposed it was only natural after spending that much time with Ford, but it still made him angry. She was tiny. A pipsqueak! Stan could pin her down with one finger and almost no effort. She could get lost in the house and Stan would never be able to find her. How could something â someone â like that be so⌠observant? Astute? Sure of herself? It was just weird. Even in her moments of terror and confusion, she never came across as helpless, despite what she might think. If anything, she was intimidating at that size, carrying herself with a confidence that Stan knew he did not possess himself. And the way she reacted after the incident was nothing short of intriguing. Stan found it hard to care about people who werenât himself, but the fear she exhibited in that moment of vulnerability surprised Stan so much that he couldnât stop thinking about it. What had happened in her life to make her react like that? Stan knew sheâd never tell him. But maybe one day, she would.
Suddenly, Jayâs vision was flooded with light, but all she could see was one of Stanâs massive eyes, peering at her, trying to make out her form. âYou okay in there, short stuff?â
She was taken aback by the seemingly considerate question, so all she could do was nod. Stan barely saw it, but that was enough for him. âGood. Weâre about to hit town.â
The next couple of hours were a blur. There was a lot of voices, a lot of stammering, a very fast heartbeat, and a lot of muffled protest. Just when Jay thought it was safe to peek out, there were no fewer than a dozen people following Stan back through town. And to her horror, he was leading them right back to the house, awkwardly trying to answer the questions thrown at him. Jay heard the familiar creak of the front door and nearly smacked her forehead. Why was he inviting them inside?!Â
But not too long after, something in Stanâs demeanor changed. His body wasnât rigid and nervous; it was pulsing with excitement. Jayâs stomach sank. This couldnât be good.
Eventually, the noise stopped, and the voices died down. Whatever just happened, it was all over now.
âOh, good, youâre still in there.â
Jay shut her eyes as light from the outside once again blinded her. She let out a squeak when Stanâs hand cupped her and lifted her into the air, holding her at eye level. Her heart was racing. He was beaming.
âStanleyâŚâ she started, taking a moment to look around. Everyone else was gone, but she had to make sure this wasn't a trick. Stanâs hand twitched each time she pressed down on his palm with hers. âWhat just happened?â
âThe best thing to ever happen to me just happened, kid!â Jay winced; he had never heard his voice so full of joy. âI mean, sure, those people? Total nutjobs. But theyâre nutjobs with cash! Can you believe it? They want to pay for this junk!â
Jay was confused. âPay for it?âÂ
âDidnât you hear anything in there? Iâm turninâ this place into a tourist trap! Weâre gonna be rich, tiny!â
Jay blinked. She had to suppress her desire to be sassy. None of this was making sense to her.
âOh, donât give me that look! Itâs perfect! You can work on the portal during the day, then when I close up shop for the night, I can do all the stuff you canât!â Stan tapped his chin. âWhich is a lot, actually.â
Jay rolled her eyes, but he wasnât done yet.
âDonât you realize what this means? Iâll be able to buy us food, water, anything you want! We just have to fix this place up and get the word out, but if the tourists are even half as smart as the people in this town, thatâll be a piece of cake. Say, how does The Murder Hut sound to you?â
Jay stared, bewildered. Stan had this hunger in his eyes â the kind Ford used to get when he was on the verge of a breakthrough. But something still didnât make sense to her.
âHold on. Iâm lost. You want to clean up the house andâŚâ
âMake it a tourist trap, I already said that! People will come in, look at the stupid crap I set up, and then spend all their disposable income on gimmicky souvenirs! Iâm sure all the weird stuff Fordâs been hoarding willââ
âWait, wait. You mean⌠people, complete strangers, are just gonna be⌠wandering in and out of the house? All the time?â
Stan nodded with a grin. âEvery day, baby!â
Jay was floored. That sounded insane! Ford wouldnât want this! How could Stan even think to ruin his lifeâs work like that? And what if they discovered the portal?
âYou canât â this is Fordâs home! He built it from the ground up! This is is whole life! You canât justââ
âListen, kid, I know you donât really know how this all works,â Stan cut in, trying not to get too angry. âBut believe me when I say there is nothing we can do to get my brother back if I donât have the money to keep the lights on. And right now, this is the best option Iâve got. All we have to do is move around some stuff and make this top floor like a museum. Nobody will ever go downstairs; itâll be our little secret. Make sense?â
âA â museum?â Jay knew what that was. Humans would display artifacts and things they found interesting inside. And if Stan wanted to put all of Fordâs research on display⌠what would be more interesting for humans to look at thanâ
âDonât worry, kid, Iâm not gonna stick you in a display case,â Stan said, his usual snappiness pulled back just a touch. Holding her so close to him, it was painfully obvious when her mind wandered to the worst-case scenario. âIf thatâs what youâre worried about.â
Jay wasnât sure if she believed him, but she had no choice but to trust him. âI mean â thanks. But I just â I dunno, IâŚâ She stole a glance at Stanâs face, but quickly looked away. God, he was so close. So big. âThatâs a lot of people to hide from, you know?â
Stan sighed. He wanted to roll his eyes and tell her to stop whining, but the tug in his gut made him soften his expression. âIâll make sure nobody sees you, kid. I promise.â
Jay didnât know what to say. Stan had never sounded that sincere before.
âLook, I know you donât think very highly of me, and I guess I havenât done much to prove otherwise. But there is nothing I wouldnât do for my family. So if it means rearranging my brotherâs home, selling myself out for a quick buck, and worrying about some shrimp who canât even walk across the room without my help⌠then Iâm gonna do whatever it takes. This is the only way, Jay.â
Jay sat in silence for a long moment before letting out a long, drawn out sigh. How did Stan do this to her? How did he manage to make her feel okay about all this? How did she feel so safe in his hand right now? It must be a Pines thing.
Stan waited with bated breath for Jay to say something. Just when he concluded she might not say a thing, the unmistakable sound of her tiny voice hit his ears.
âThe Murder Hut is a terrible name.â
Stan blinked. He was not expecting that. He stared at her â this tiny, remarkable little being, just sitting in his hand, legs crossed, arms pushing down, regarding him with equal amounts of wonder and disgust â and burst out laughing. She flinched at the sound at first, but soon found that she couldn't help herself. Laughter was contagious.
âWhat!â Stan said through chuckles. âHow â how could you say that! Itâs a great name!â
Jay couldnât stop smiling. âWhy would people want to go to a place advertising murder?â
âOh, come on! Itâs edgy, itâs mysterious. Itâs what the people want.â
âIf you want mystery⌠why not just name it, like, the Mystery Hut instead?â
âOh, please! Thatâs⌠huh.â Stan thought about it for a moment. âThatâs actually pretty good.â
Jay raised an eyebrow. âReally?â
âYeah! A mysteeeeerious old place, tucked away deeeeeep in the woods⌠a run-down shack, full of treasures, just waiting to be discovered! Are they even of this world? Come and find out!â
Jay giggled at his salesman voice. âSounds like a place Iâd want to visit.â
Stan found himself smiling at her amusement. âHeh, yeah, it does, doesnât it?â
For the first time, the silence that fell over the two was comfortable, not suffocating.
âAlright, Stanley Pines. Iâm trusting you here.â
Stan smirked. âAlright, Jay, uh⌠Jay Tiny. I wonât letcha down.â
âNo, you really should.â
Stan furrowed his brow. âWhat?â
âLet me down. Iâm getting dizzy up here.â
âOh. Yeah, Iâve been holdinâ you up here for a while, huh?â I wonder how high up that looks. As gentle as heâs ever been, he lowered the tiny down to her familiar table. âThere ya go.â
âTh-thanks,â she muttered, keeping her eyes down as she adjusted to the shift in perspective.Â
âNow, you get some sleep, tiny. Youâre gonna need all the energy you can get if we want to get this place cleaned up.â Stan paused, rubbing the back of his neck. âYou, uh⌠you sure you donât want me to take you upstairs? Check out Fordâs old room? Hang out with the human for a night?â
Jay smirked. âSorry, I didnât mean to say it like that, I just â Ford always thought it was funny, too. Found it fascinating that we had our own observations on human culture. I kinda forget that humans donât call other humans humans.â She cleared her throat. She was talking too much. âBut, uh, Iâm alright. Iâll just stay here tonight.â She really didnât want to go back in his hand. âI, um, might look at the journal some more. See if thereâs something weâre missing.â
âSuit yourself,â Stan shrugged, though his tone suggested he was a little dismayed. âIâm gonna get some shut-eye. That was the most social interaction Iâve had in a year, and Iâm beat.â
Jay gave him a soft smile. Though he brought this entire situation upon himself, it was clear this was weighing on him, too. He kept his promise about keeping her hidden all day, and that meant something to her.Â
âGoodnight, Stanley.â
Stan turned around, still utterly bewildered at how someone who can blend into the surroundings on a tabletop could be a good companion for him. Maybe he needed to be a little more open-minded. Maybe, just maybe, this whole thing could be good for him.
The fist came down at an alarming speed, like it had materialized out of thin air. Jay was thrown backwards, and her head instantly smacked against the table, causing stars to pop in and out of her vision. The only thing she could hear was a faint, dull static, like her brain was a television that wasnât getting a signal. Her heart was pounding so fast she thought it would break through her chest. She didnât have the strength to push herself to her feet. All of her limbs felt like they were paralyzed.
âShit!â Stan yelled. Oh, he instantly regretted it. He didnât even realize what was happening until his fist had already connected with the table. His subconscious must have saved him from actually touching her, but he got pretty damn close. He blinked, blinked again, and fully realized he almost just killed somebody.Â
Again.
âOh, god, kid, are you alright?â He bent down, putting himself at eye level with the writhing tiny. âKid? Iâm sorry, I didnât â I wasnât tryinâ to hurt you, I just â got carried away, thatâs all!â She wasnât responding, so he began to reach his hand out toward her, ready to nudge her back to reality.Â
âDONâT!â she screamed, louder than anything heâd ever heard before. She managed to scramble farther away from him. âPLEASE! IâIâM SORRY â I WONâT â P-PLEASE! DonâtâŚâ
Stanâs expression shifted. He knew what this was. She was begging for her life. Something had switched inside of her. Something Stan was not expecting. His hands were shaking, and he was unsure what to do with them. He hovered awkwardly, watching, before realizing that he suddenly felt grossly uncomfortable looming over her. The sheer force of his fist caused her to fall over. She was barely as tall as it. Stan could pinch her between his fingers and never feel the weight. She was miniscule. How was any of this real?
Jay was too busy rolling in pain to notice, but Stan sat in total silence for 10 minutes, his mind racing to figure out what to do next. Maybe Poindexter has some kind of cheat sheet on her somewhere. Maybe all those secret codes were about her and he didnât want her to read them. How does she even read, anyway? The letters must look huge. Focus, Stan, focus. Maybe she needs some water? But I don't want to move right now. I could just ask her. But I donât want to talk again. My voice might shatter her eardrums.
Eventually, Jay came to. She had shut her eyes tight for a while, hoping the pain would melt away on its own. Soon enough, it did, but even with her senses thrown off, the feeling of being loomed over was incredibly persistent. She didnât want to see Stan, so gigantic and destructive, towering over her after he just tried to murder her. And she certainly didnât want to hear his smarmy jokes about her begging for her life â the embarrassment of that was beginning to hit her hard. How could she even be in the same room as him ever again, knowing she had become the helpless, controllable little thing he so clearly saw her as?
Stan, trying to stay patient and silent, was only increasing Jayâs anxiety more. Why was he just⌠sitting still? She dared to take a peek and only saw Stanâs massive elbows pressing on the tabletop, his torso so big it looked more like an endless wall. She wasnât prepared to hear him speak.
âLook, kid, Iââ
But he stopped as soon as her eyes met his. The shock of her expression sucked all the air from his lungs. Her face was red and puffy, her eyes burning from tears. She was staring at him in horror, like he was some kind of â some kind of monster. Someone who acts so callously toward other peopleâs feelings and needs. A killer. Nowâs not the time for this! But Stanâs mind wouldnât let him rest. Not even as his hand twitched in his lap, unable to stay still. He jumped when she jumped; he had no idea how she was able to pick up on that movement. Disoriented and filled with anxiety, Jay slowly scrambled backwards until she found a stack of books to dive behind for cover. Stan just watched. There was nothing he could do.
Jay pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly. Not being able to see Stanâs movements was probably a bad thing, but she couldnât bear to be in his line of sight right now. She hadnât cowered like this since first meeting Ford, and it all felt so eerily similar. Stan was just like Ford in as many ways as they differed â even if they didnât share a face, she would be able to suss out their relation to each other. They both had this air of unpredictability and superiority, and Jay was now twice caught in the crosshairs. She had to get her hook. She had to get out of here. She had toâŚ
Stan felt sick, just as he did in this very basement a week ago. It had been so long since he actually interacted with people, and he found that a lot of his survival instincts he prided himself on were not transferable to the real world; or even to tiny little people in the real world. Why did he think he needed to use violence to assert himself over someone as tall as a golf pencil? Why did she react so scared this time? Probably because you almost killed her. But nobody ever took him seriously. Why did she have to be different?
Stan sucked in a breath. Quit it, Stan. You canât be doing this. But if he kept sitting there and staring at the books, he wouldnât be able to stop. Fine. Then go work on the portal. Go be useful for once in your life.
It took Jay a while to notice he had left. She was too busy trying to stop her hands from shaking, and it took everything in her not to black out again from how fast the blood was rushing through her body. The sound of her own hyperventilating snapped her back to reality. For the first time in what felt like forever, she didnât even have any thoughts going through her head. It was completely, totally silent. She wasnât even sure she could remember what words to use. But she eventually noticed that the vibe in the room had shifted considerably. The silence had become eerie, and the suffocating feeling was largely gone, replaced by an anxious panic. She hoped her senses werenât betraying her, but a quick, subtle peek around the books confirmed that Stan was no longer sitting at the table, waiting for her to come out. She couldnât see through the window, but a lot of clanging and a lot of cursing confirmed Stan had gone to work in the portal room.
Jay took the opportunity to finally stand up. She needed to grip the spine of the books to pull herself up because her legs were completely drained of energy. In a moment of panic, she thought she was maybe paralyzed from the incident, but she was able to take a few shaky steps. She blinked as her brain oriented itself, her eyes stinging, her world still turning. She didnât quite understand why Stan had left the room, but she didnât care. The only thing her brain had the capacity for right now was escape.
She stumbled over to her hooks, which were still woefully incomplete. Fuck it, she thought, wiping the sweat off her hands, Iâll just slide down the table leg â link these together, she managed to hook one piece of bent metal around the other with her trembling hands, then use this, she picked up, dropped, and picked up again what she had tied together for rope, and Iâll just wrap it around myself, and I can â I can â I just need â
Jay tried her best to assemble something that could get her safely down from the metal table, but she was trembling so hard that she could barely keep the hooks from slipping from her grip. And the more time she took, the more she panicked, and the more mistakes she made. The risk from falling from such a great height couldnât be any worse than seeing Stan again. She had to hurry, quick, before heâ
The stinging sound of scraping metal made Jay freeze so fast she could feel her blood turn cold. She was too numb to turn around, but having her back to him was even more terrifying. She slowly turned around, gripping her hooks so tight she thought sheâd crush them.
Stan gaped back, eyes wide. It felt like he glitched temporarily before getting his ability to speak back. âOh. Youâre still here.â
She shrunk back, whimpering a bit and putting her hands in front of her chest in a protective position, tightening her white-knuckle grip on the hooks. She didnât dare move an inch.
To her surprise, Stan, very slowly, lifted his hands up placatingly. âDonât worry,â was all he managed to say in a scratchy, hoarse voice that barely sounded like his.
Jay couldnât budge even if she wanted to. She was frozen.
âOh. I see. The, uh, metal things,â Stan said clumsily, nudging his head at her hooks. âYeah, I donât blame you. Iâd want to get out of my sight if I were you, too.â
Jay knitted her eyebrows. This was not the tone of voice she expected from him.
âLook, I didnât â I didnât mean to â Iâm â Iâm sorry, Jay,â he stumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. Her heart skipped a beat when he actually said her name. âYou probably wonât forgive me, and thatâs alright, I donât deserve it. Itâs just â my life hasnât exactly been a walk in the park. I donât always⌠handle things the best,â he said, sounding profoundly embarrassed at admitting such a thing. âNever have, and I guess I never will. Iâm just the Pines family screw-up.â
Jay arched an eyebrow. Her mind was telling her this was all an act â a pity party to draw her back in so he could do something awful. But her gut kept asking one thing: Why would he need to do that?
After a few tense moments, Jay lowered her hands and loosened her hold on the hooks. Stan, taking this as a sign of trust, slowly sat down, pushing the stool back a bit to put some distance between them. Now Jay felt comfortable enough to inch backwards until her back hit the stack of books. She didnât even blink, in case Stan did something again.
âI know Poinâuh, Ford didnât tell you anything about me,â he began, wringing his hands together, âbut I, uh, donât exactly have the most admirable past.â He took a deep breath. Why was this so hard? âIâve had to do a lot of lying, a lot of stealing, just to scrape by. I lived out of my car for a while. Hah, I donât even know how Ford tracked down the motel room I was staying in to send me that postcard.â He stole a glance at Jay, who wore the same skeptical look on her face. âWhat Iâm trying to say is, itâs been a while since Iâve had⌠company. Or been around people who werenât convicted felons. And when I came here, I wasnât expecting to see anyone else but Ford. And I sure as hell wasnât expecting anyone three inches tall. So I guess what Iâm tryinâ to say is, I just⌠need to remember how to act normal again.â
Jay was floored. The depth of sorrow in his voice was something she didnât think a human was capable of. And as freaked out as she was, she could clearly see this was an attempt to reach out to her, to offer an olive branch without having to keep apologizing and reminding himself of the terrible thing heâd just done. He acted impulsively, and he knew it. Even after what he just did, he was making the effort to at least try and patch it up.
Ford did the exact same thing.
âI, uhm, I can relate. Kind of.âÂ
Stanâs eyes lit up for the briefest of moments at the sound of her voice. He didnât think that would actually work.Â
âUhm..â Jay had to pause. This all felt so foreign to say. She had never related to a human about anything. âAbout the stealing part. And the not being used to company part.â Stan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Jay sighed. Was she really about to do this?
âIâve told you a bit about⌠borrower stuff,â she said, keeping it vague in the hopes that he forgot most of it. âA huge part of the lifestyle â probably the biggest part, really â is the⌠stealing from humans part.â She gave Stan a chance to insert a witty remark, but he stayed silent. âWe basically take anything and everything we can get while theyâre not looking. Food, supplies⌠whatever we can get our hands on. And it gets pretty lonely, because most of us â we travel in small groups, or pairs. Itâs not safe to be in a big group. IâveâŚâ She debated if she wanted to say this, but judging from the small tidbits Stan had revealed, she guessed it wouldnât be so embarrassing to him. âIâve been on my own for a while. Itâs â well, itâs hard to remember times with other borrowers. I could go weeks without speaking, and it â it would have been normal. This⌠this is all pretty new to me, too.â
âWell, I wouldnât say itâs new to me. I know how to handle myself,â Stan interjected, immediately regretting his defensive tone when he saw her exasperated expression. âI mean⌠that sounds like it was really tough on you.â
Jay huffed a laugh. âYeah. It was.â
There was an awkward silence as both of them tried to figure out what to say next. Stan was remorseful, and a little freaked out, but he just wanted to feel okay with himself as quickly as possible. He could barely handle the nervous side-eye she was giving him right now, and he wasnât even doing anything.
âLook, uh, you donât have tâbe scared of me, okay? I did somethinâ stupid, I know I did. I shouldn't have tried to â it was just a reaction. Iâm used to havinâ to punch my way outta situations. Sometimes I forget how⌠tiny you are.â Jay felt her stomach sink at the direct call-out to her size, and she shrank even more as Stan peered at her. âLike, I could breathe on you and hurt you.â
Jay crossed her arms. âYeah, okay, I get it. Weak and helpless.â
âWell, youâre a pipsqueak, thatâs for sure,â Stan said callously before shaking his head. âBut no, you â thatâs not it, I just â I know this is weird for you, but come on, you gotta admit itâs even weirder for me. Up until a week ago, I didnât even know something like you even existed. Now Iâm talkinâ to a person who can fit in my hand, and you⌠youâve been hanginâ around Ford for months. Iâm just a⌠different version of him.â A stupider, worse version of him.
Jay thought about it for a moment. She hated to admit it, but he did have a point. Stan wasnât the first giant sheâs ever dealt with, but she was his first tiny. And he just lost his brother after not seeing him for a long, long time. That was a lot to deal with. She didnât really know what Stan had been through, but judging from the way he spoke about it⌠it didnât seem normal by human standards.
â...I know,â Jay said quietly, sheepishly, but Stan still heard. âAnd Iâm⌠sorry, for riling you up. I said those things to make myself feel better, because â you may think I have this superiority complex thing, but I mean, how else am I supposed to compete? You⌠Ford, Fidds, you guys are gigantic. You can do things I can only dream of doing. Hell, you do things I can only dream of without even thinking about it. Itâs⌠hard not to feel worthless in comparison. Itâs hard to feel like I even matter.â
Jay immediately flushed red. Why on earth did she just say that? Why was she confiding in Stan? She was saying things she had never even told Ford. This is so embarrassing. He doesnât care! He doesnât have sympathy for you!Â
But to Jayâs surprise, Stan didnât laugh at her or make another joke about her size. Instead, he sighed. âTrust me. I know how that feels.â Jayâs look of pure surprise and skepticism told Stan he needed to elaborate. âYou only knew my brother for a couplea months, but I spent my entire life with the guy. I grew up in Fordâs shadow. He was the smarty pants know-it-all twin, and I was the trouble-making, dumb twin. My folks cared more about Fordâs homework than whatever I was doing.â Stan stopped himself. The last thing he wanted to do right now was relive this. Why was he even saying this to her? âHah. Looks like weâre more alike than we thought, pipsqueak.â
Jay crossed her arms. âWoah, letâs not get crazy now,â she said, slightly defensive. But her small smile betrayed her. Stan smiled in return.
âHah, right.â
Stan rubbed the back of his neck, and after a few seconds of silence, he stood up, ready to leave and be done with this. He said his apology â he said more than he wanted to, in fact â and that was more than enough. The exhaustion was clearly getting to him. Heâd slept maybe a total of 10 hours over the past five days. Yeah, that was it. He was just tired, not thinking straight. He needed a good nightâs sleep. Maybe a dayâs break from code-cracking and journal reading and tiny little people who could sit in his palm would do him some good.
He made his way toward the exit, but stopped at the threshold. Something was nagging at him, and he needed a clear head.
âYou, uh⌠you gonna be alright, kid?â
Jayâs eyes lingered on Stan. Her heartbeat still felt elevated, her breath hitching every time his fingers twitched as he wrung his hands together. The thought of being picked up by him again made her head start rocking. It took everything she had to look up at him, and even then, she could only hold her gaze for a few seconds before the bile started to rise to her throat. She had to take a few concentrated breaths once she realized her breathing was still shaky.
âYeah,â she said finally. She wasnât sure how much she meant it.
âOkay,â Stan replied. He wasnât sure how much he believed her.
Stan stood for a few moments, sorting through his feelings. Nothing about this felt real. It was all happening so fast. But he would go to sleep tonight and wake up in the morning and sheâd still be here while Ford was gone. Just like it had been for the last week. Just like it was probably going to be for the foreseeable future. It was stupid, and unfair. But Stan was used to unfair.
He found himself staring, still unable to process how he could barely make out her form among the clutter of the table. If he didnât know she was there, he wouldnât have noticed her. He hated how much that freaked him out.
Ugh.
âI, uh, I guess Iâll see you in the morning, then.â
Jay stared straight ahead, then down to the table. Her hooks sat on either side of her. She had tied up enough rope. She had thought everything out. She knew the way out.
But then she looked back up. Stan leaned on the doorframe, hands in his pockets, his expression cautious, his eyes hopeful. He regarded her with curiosity, not disdain. He was waiting for an answer. She let out a long, deep sigh.
âYeah, Stanley. Iâll see you in the morning.â
hi!!! Iâm on a Bucky Barnes fixation rn. Could you give me some head cannons on how heâd be with a tiny? đ
omgggg it's been so long but let me do my best
firstly he would be SO confused. like heâd think heâs hallucinating. and then heâd realize heâs not and be like âwell. guess this is happening nowâ
he doesnt get freaked out though bc cmon. what a life this man has lived. the talking raccoon was way weirder
heâd definitely be curious but he wouldnât be invasive. in fact heâd fully leave them alone and give them their space
but he WOULD do stuff to try and coax them out. maybe leaving a very enticing piece of food out, but heâs stand there so unsubtly waiting for them
heâd be so delightfully awkward, trying not to startle them but also not really knowing what to say. the epitome of đ§ââď¸
he WOULD call them really sweet pet names like doll and sweetheart and it would be unbearably cute
heâs lowkey (highkey) nervous about hurting them so he avoids touching or picking them up and itâs very obvious
most chill giant ever though. the tiny would be like âyou dont mind me taking your stuff?â and heâd just shrug like âhey pal you live here tooâ
he would bond with a tiny about feeling out of place in society and theyâd make fun of things they donât understand together, like smartphones and the internet
EXTREMELY protective itâs not even funny. he is constantly looking out for things that could hurt them. guardian angel fr
omgggggg i'm still doing this! i actually have so much written! i didn't think i'd get this far but i just can't stop. enjoy!
parts 1 and 2!
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âAlright, shorty, where does this go?â
âRight there. In the â yeah, that one.â
âAre you sure? This doesnât look right.â
âHow would you possibly know what looks right?â
âDonât question me! I can look at a picture and know what itâs supposed to be!â
âDiagram. Itâs a diagram.â
âPsh. Whatever. Sâjust a word to make dumb nerds seem smarter than the rest of us.âÂ
âPretty sure Ford is smarter than the rest of us.â
Thatâs how pretty much every conversation had gone today.
The first couple of days werenât too bad, though it was mostly spent by Stan working on something alone until he remembered Jay was there. Sometimes, he would disappear into the portal room for hours, trying to get it back on by sheer willpower.
Now, it was day five â no, six â seven? â of the portal reactivation effort, and if Jay had to put a number on it, sheâd say zero progress had been made. She was trying her best to honor this truce of sorts that they made, but it was becoming increasingly difficult as the days went on, especially the ways heâd mock their size difference.Â
âHey, hand me those pliers, wonâtcha?â he would say, a wicked smile plastered on his face. Or heâd be sitting on the floor and pretend he couldnât reach the table when he needed something. More than once, Jay threatened to drop something on his head, but that just seemed to make him laugh even harder.Â
âOh, câmon, Iâm just teasing you, tiny,â he would say, feigning innocence, and then heâd give her a hearty poke in the back and sheâd stumble forward, often half-falling and needing her hands to stop her momentum. âDonât take it so personal!â
âEasy for you to say,â sheâd mumble, rubbing whatever part of her body was now sore.
âTake it from me, kid. When life punches you, you gotta punch back. Donât be such a pushover.â
It was almost like he was giving advice to himself as much as he was lecturing Jay. She didnât need to be told how to survive, least of all by a giant.Â
Jay tried to keep her distance, offering up nuggets of wisdom where she could, but Stan was mostly dismissive of anything she had to say.Â
Until she actually figured something out.
He was mindlessly flipping through the journal one day when he suddenly stormed off, presumably to find a soda, or something a little stronger. Curious as to what got him so mad, Jay trotted over to the open journal and ambled onto the page, setting her hands on her hips as she read over the impossibly large display.
Jayâs eyes scanned the page dutifully, trying to pick up the little things she learned from Ford. He had shown her that equations that seemed like a random amalgamation of letters, numbers and squiggles actually had meaning when you knew what stood for what.
Thatâs when she spotted it. It was a large, red W â something Ford called the âweirdness coefficient.â She didnât know exactly what it was used for, but she actually recognized the string of data that succeeded it. She followed it along, running across the page a few times to get it all in her head. She was so distracted that she never noticed Stanley enter the room, drink in hand. The loud cracking of the canâs tab snapped her back to reality.Â
âEw,â Stan said, eyeing her with suspicion as he sat down. âWhy are you so sweaty?â
âNo! Donât sit! Youâve gotta help me.â
âWhat are you talking about?â
âI think I figured something out.â
Stan nearly spit out his drink. âYou? Figuring something out? Hah, sure, and Iâm a millionaire.â
âDonât act so surprised,â Jay retorted. âItâs not like youâve done anything.â
âItâs only been a couple of days, squirt. Iâm just gettinâ started.â
Jay rolled her eyes. Stanâs machismo attitude was really unmatched. âOkay, well, can you hear me out on this one?â Stan took a long sip of his soda, then nodded. âOkay, you see this here? This big W? Thatâs the weirdness coefficient. Itâs supposed to account for the average amount of weirdness â or, anomalies â that can leak through to this dimension at any given time. So this equation here, it stipulates the maximum amount of W â weirdness â that can be allowed through P, or the portal. So, we have to make sure the leakage output doesnât exceed this number here.â She pointed to a bold number circled in red, looking up at Stan, a little winded from all the talking.Â
Stan blinked. âI have no idea what you just said.â
She groaned. âIt means we have to input this number,â she tapped it again for good measure, âinto that machine over there.â
Stan squinted at her tiny arm pointing outward, trying to hide his amused smile. He turned around, then turned back. âHow do you know thatâs the right one?â
âI just know. I saw Ford using it a million times.â
âWhat if youâre wrong and we blow up the place?â
âHey, if you donât trust me, you can just say you donât trust me.â
âAlright. I donât trust you.â
âOkay, you werenât actually supposed to say it,â Jay said, crossing her arms. âCome on! How can we work together if you wonât listen to me?â
Stan tapped his chin. He seemed to actually be thinking about it. âYou bring up a valid point.â
âYes, yes, I know. Now, could you put the number in?â
For the slightest moment, Stan hesitated. The inflection in her voice, and the authoritative way in which she spoke, sounded so much like Ford that it almost made him scream. Yes, yes, I know might as well have been his catchphrase. Stan tried really, really hard not to think about it, but for a nanosecond, his mind was filled with so much pain at the reminder of this little person spending so much time with Ford that she picked up on his speaking patterns that it made him want to curl up his fist and â
He stopped. Come on, Stan, you need her. You know you do. The sooner Ford is back, the sooner youâll never have to see her again.
âWhere am I putting it in, short stuff?â he finally asked. Jay tried to point him in the right direction, but even when he found the right knobs, he didnât know how to do it correctly.
âUgh, why donât you just do it?â Stan sighed angrily.
Jay furrowed her brow. âThis again? Are you serious?â
âDon't think this doesn't hurt my ego. But the only thing worse than having you do it is listening to you squeak about it,â Stan grumbled. âNow, câmon, just do this so we can move on.â
Jay nervously laughed. He didnât sound like he was joking. âStanley, I don't know if youâve noticed, but I canât exactly walk over there and start pressing buttons.â
âWhat, I thought you wanted to be all self-sufficient? And didnât you say you were good at climbing?â
Jay clenched her jaw. Maybe telling him little things about borrower life wasn't such a good idea. âWell, yeah, but I donât â that would take a while, and I donât think you want to wait. So just, listen, you just have toââ
âNope! Not this again,â Stan declared. He took a few steps toward her and was now looming over her, hand twitching. She knew what he was about to do, but was powerless to stop it.
âBe â careful!â she yelped. She felt her arm bend uncomfortably against her body as Stan stuck his hand underneath her and lifted her into the air. She shut her eyes tight as the pressure in her head mounted. Even when they stopped moving, it didnât feel like it.
Stan stared intently, wondering why she wasnât moving. âUh. You okay?â
His booming voice only made her ears ring more. It had to be 30 full seconds before she finally felt centered again. Her stomach dropped when she opened her eyes and saw just how far the ground was. Sure, she had been up higher, but the anxiety of sitting in Stanâs hand only exacerbated her unease. She never even felt 100% secure in Fordâs hand, given the way he would sometimes forget she was there. Fidds was the only one she felt remotely comfortable holding her.
âTiny? Hello?â Stan shook his hand a bit, as if the issue was that she forgot where she was. He felt the tiniest of pressures as she pushed her palms into his, and he immediately stopped moving. Oh.
âPlease â move slower,â she croaked, not even bothering to look up at him. âAnd donât just pick me up without asking.â
âYeah, sure, okay,â he said, sounding a bit dismissive. Truthfully, he was fully aware and then some about what he just did, but he didnât want to admit that he probably fucked up. He walked the few steps over to where the control console was and stuck his arm out, holding her out in front like a platform.
âOkay, short stack. Just tell me where to move you.â
âThe row of five switches with the red light up there.â Stan pointed to confirm, and she nodded. âYeah, that one.â
She should have prepared for how fast he was going to move, but it still caught her off guard. She wanted to yell at him for not listening, but getting fresh with a giant while she was in their hand was not something she was interested in.
Stan chuckled in amusement at how much effort it took her to turn the knob, and it turned to a full-blown laugh at the way she couldnât push one of the switches back up.
âOh, is this funny to you?â she huffed, clearly exhausted.
âOh, yes,â Stan grinned. âExtremely.â
âJust â flick it yourself, please,â she sighed, plopping down in his palm. His hand reflexively twitched at the movements, and he shot her a brief look. Man, she actually looks beat from that.
âFine, fine. Let the big guy show you how itâs done,â Stan said with that smarmy smile. Jay watched incredulously at the way his arm seemed to stretch on forever from his body to the panel. It hung over her like a heavy barrier; something her weight wouldnât even register against. He could swing his arm and knock her off his hand and he wouldnât feel a thing.
It was even worse watching him flick the switch with ease. Sure, she had watched Ford and Fidds do crazy human things all the time, but something about the way Stan did it was different. It was almost⌠taunting.
âThere. Now what?â
âWell, if Iâm right, it shouldââ
Suddenly, she couldnât speak. It was as if her entire body was frozen. A dull sensation reverberated through her, and then, pain. A loud popping sound zapped her ears and she fell backwards, landing hard on her butt, her head ringing, her body aching.
âWoah!â Stan shouted, flinching back. A small spark jumped out from the panel, but he narrowly avoided it. âWas that supposed toââ he started, but stopped. She wasn't moving. Again.
âHey, tiny, you alright?â Nothing. âKid?â Still nothing. She was definitely breathing, but seemed to be in a lot of pain. âJay, you okay?â
She grit her teeth, trying to usher the pain out of her body. Luckily, it melted away after a few seconds, and even though her head was spinning, she was alright. It was no worse than being whipped around on Stanâs hand, anyway.
âIâm fine,â she finally said, though her voice almost sounded like it was glitching. She took another moment to recompose herself. âGuess it didnât work.â
Stan almost forgot to respond. âI donât even know what it was supposed to do.â
âIt was supposed to â once you put in the W maximum, it should have calibrated a couple other systems. Thing must be fried after the portal was turned on.â
âOh,â Stan said, pretending to understand. âSo, how do we fix it?â
âI â donât know,â Jay admitted. âIâve never been inside there before. Not really sure what to do with the wires.â
Stan hummed, unsure of where to go from here. This was the most tangible progress they had made since forming this unlikely alliance, and it got them nowhere.
âWell, uh, if it makes you feel any better⌠good job.â Jay winced at the way he sounded like the words were being tortured out of him. âFiguring this thing out, I mean.â
âI got it,â Jay said, a small smile forming on her lips. Why did that compliment make her feel so⌠warm? âThanks, Stanley.â
âYeah, yeah, just donât be expecting any more compliments from me,â he shot back, though there was no bite to it. âDonât want you going soft on me.â
âPsh. Never in a million years,â Jay teased.
To her surprise, Stan set her down slowly on the table before burying his head back in the journal. He was only half-reading it, though, because he couldnât get his mind off Jay. It was so contradictory â every time she did something impressive, like spout mathematical nonsense she had no business knowing, she would be rendered immobile by a slight altitude change or a small electric shock. She was so much more fragile than he thought. It was beginning to dawn on him that he actually did have to be careful, or else he might accidentally kill her. He shuddered at the thought. He couldnât be so reckless when it came to someoneâs entire life.Â
Not again.
Ever since then, he seemed to care a little bit more about her opinion, which confused Jay to no end, but she didnât complain. Even if he was invasive and had no regard for her personal space, he seemed to have a... gentler air about him. Like he was trying more.
But it didnât always show, especially when he got frustrated. They were rapidly approaching that territory right now.
âI think the red wire has to connect to the other end,â she said, glancing at the journal. âNo, not that one, the other one! Right there â you keep missing it!â
Stan clenched his teeth. He was getting tired of being bossed around. âWell, if itâs so easy, why donât you come do it?â
Jay felt her blood boil. âI hate when you say that.â
Stan grinned wildly. âI know.â
âUgh.â Jay flopped on her back. âWeâre not getting anywhere.â
âWe? Youâre not even doinâ anything.â Stan abandoned his rewiring effort and joined Jay at the table. âMaybe youâre reading this thing wrong.â He grabbed the journal and pulled it to him, taking Jay along with it. She yelped and held on tight as she was moved at a blinding speed from one side of the table to the other.
âCâmon, get off,â Stan began to shoo her away like a fly, and Jay quickly jumped off the book. âI gotta look at this thing.â
Jay stumbled when she landed, staring up at Stan with a disapproving look until she gave up trying to telegraph her annoyance. The worst part was he didnât ignoring her maliciously; he genuinely didnât care that she was there. She swallowed, her unease growing at the extended silence as Stan scanned the journal. She had been in close physical proximity to him for basically a week now, and it was unnerving. She had no idea what he was ever going to do, and the only thing stopping him from picking her up all the time was that she grossed him out. But that didnât feel like a strong enough motivator to stop him from swiping her clean off the table if he got mad enough.
âUgh, what am I missing?â Stan groaned. He tilted his head, along with the journal, trying to find some hidden message.
Jay marveled at the way he so easily swung the book around. âI donât think youâre missing anything. Thereâs only so many ways to read it.â
âCâmon, short stack, you hung out with my know-it-all brother more than any female ever has. You gotta know something. What about theseâŚâ he narrowed his eyes, âweird secret codes?â
âYeah, Iâve tried my best with those, but I donât think I know enough to figure them out.â
âIâll say,â Stan mumbled under his breath. Jay heard it, but chose to ignore it.
Stan took a moment to think. Maybe I should go to the library and find a book about this or somethinâ. Hah, now Iâm really thinking like Ford. But the last thing he wanted was to go into town. There had to be an answer in the journal somewhere. Where thereâs a test, thereâs always an answer sheet.
But first, he was going to do it his way.
âIâm gonna go shove the lever around again,â Stan announced, grabbing the tool box and disappearing into the portal room. Jay knew it was a futile effort, so while Stan got himself needlessly tired, she would go back to working on her secret project â the new hook that would buy her freedom.Â
At best, Stan was tolerable, and being at his mercy was giving her increasing amounts of anxiety. If she couldnât go back for the contraptions that Fidds made her, sheâd just have to do it the old fashioned way. But she only went to work when Stan was asleep or in the portal room. There was no way he could know about this.
Jay had been relegated to sleeping on the table while Stan was here. He had only gone upstairs to get food and drinks, often falling asleep right on the table and getting back to work when his own snores jolted him awake.
Thankfully, there was plenty of material to work with. Not so thankfully, none of it was a rope and a paper clip. She had already fashioned two hooks out of sharp pieces of metal, so her next step was either finding something long enough to lower her to the ground or tying a bunch of short but sturdy things together. Even a parachute could work at this rate.
Her mind flashed back to times with Ford, when they would test out her physics with paper hang gliders and makeshift obstacle courses out of rulers and tape dispensers. He went through a phase of trying to see how far a fall she could take before hurting herself, but that only lasted a week before Jay made him drop the subject. His final conclusion? âVery far.â
Evidently, though, she got too into tinkering, because she didnât even notice when Stan walked back into the room, jacket shed and face sweaty from all the work. He watched her curiously, trying to see what exactly she was doing. Maybe she just messes with metal like itâs a toy or something. She was working on sharpening her hooks and finding heavy enough things to wrap them around when Stan cleared his throat, and she nearly shot 500 feet in the air.
âWhatâre you doing?â Stan asked.
âNothing!â Jay squeaked. âI mean, not nothing nothing, Iâm just â itâs ââ
But Stan was no longer interested in her ramblings. He reached down and carefully pinched one of the metal hooks between his fingers, ripping it right out of her hands.
âHEY!â she yelled, but to no avail. Even if she could fight him for it, it wouldnât have mattered, because her legs turned to jelly and her arms became numb the moment his massive fingers came next to her, filling her entire body with a sense of dread. She quickly let go to avoid being pulled up into the air.
âWhat is thisâŚ?â Stan turned the object, observing it intently, marveling at just how damn small it was. Jay felt sick at how miniscule her only path to freedom looked between Stanâs fingers.Â
âItâs nothing! Give it back!â she tried, but one glance from Stan promptly shut her up and even pushed her back a few steps. God, heâs so far away.
âHuh⌠you made this?â he asked, holding it out to her. She just shrugged, unwilling to answer.
Stan wouldnât have been suspicious otherwise, but he had spent the better part of his life either around criminals or being the criminal. He knew what guilt looked like. He also knew a bad liar when he saw one. He just couldnât figure out what she was trying to hide.
Not at first, anyway.
He tried to think: if he was that tiny, what would he need something like this for? It certainly wasnât for fixing the portal, so what was it for? Fun? Stan didnât know what was so fun about bent metal. Maybe she was just bored? Then there was no reason for her to act so suspicious. She would have just said so.
Then it hit him. Whatâs the one thing she wanted more than anything, besides getting Ford back? To be left alone. And it wasnât like she could just walk out of the room whenever she wanted.
She had been looking for an escape since Stan found her. She was manufacturing a way out.
Stan ahhâd in realization, and the way Jayâs face went pale was all the confirmation he needed.Â
âNot sure how you were planning to escape with this, and I admire the effort. Really! But you canât hustle a hustler, kid.â
Jay didnât know what that meant, but it didnât matter. Her heart was pounding, her breathing labored. She had no clue what was coming next.
âLook, if you donât wanna be here, I wonât stop you. In case you haven't noticed, Iâm not running a charity here. Iâm trying to get my brother back, and I canât seem to figure out if thatâs really what you want or not.â He callously tossed the metal back to her, and she scrambled out of the way as it clanged a few inches from her. âSo scram, alright? Get outta here.â
Jay blinked. He was⌠really going to let her go like that? She didnât believe him. Humans didnât do that. They never did. Theyâd always be back.
But that part didnât even matter, because she did want Ford back. Even with the threat of opening the portal, she wanted her best friend back more than anything. She just really, really hated working with his irritating brother, and she didnât know how to deal with him. The only people she had ever dealt with this closely were Ford and Fidds. She wasnât used to anything else. She couldn't handle anything else.
âIâm â Iâm not trying to â to leave,â Jay stammered. God, that sounded so pathetic. âI just â need some freedom, thatâs all.â
A light went off in Stanâs head. âYou canât leave, can you?â
Jay raised an eyebrow. âOf course I can leaveââ
âNo, not this room, this house. You donât want to leave here. Thereâs nowhere else for you to go.â
âIââ Jay started, but she had no words. He was right. He was right, damn it! He saw her as this helpless little thing, and he was right.
âHuh, so the squirt that thinks sheâs better than me needs me to keep her safe. Right?â
âI donât â I donât think Iâm better than you!â Jay said, but it didnât sound convincing. And she didnât even try and dispute the other point.
Stanâs face scrunched up. âHuh, you sure act like it. Well, squirt, you may need me, but I donât need you. If you disappeared right now, I wouldnât waste my energy lookinâ for you, because Iâm the one who actually cares about fixing this damn thing and saving Ford!â
Jay knew fighting back would be a bad idea. It had never, ever worked before. But she couldnât take the constant antagonizing. She just couldnât.
âStop acting like I donât want him back, either!â Jay blurted. Stan looked at her in surprise, but it was too late. The floodgates were open. She was tired of hearing this. âItâs just â itâs dangerous! And thereâs only so much I can do!â
âYeah, and you do a pretty terrible job! Half the time you sit there and mock me for not knowing the âdifferenceâ between a picture and a diagram! And there isnât even a difference!â
âThere is!â
âSee! Youâre just like Ford, always talking down to me, acting like Iâm just some â bumbling idiot who canât possibly be on his level.â
âThatâs not true!â Jay asserted. âI donât think youâre an idiot!â
âWell you certainly fooled me!â
âYouâre just â so stubborn!â Jay was nearing the edge of the table now. âYou ask for my help, and yet you canât even fathom that I would know something you donât!â
âMaybe Iâd listen to you more if you werenât so damn tiny! Iâm taking orders from someone who canât even walk up the stairs by herself!â
Jayâs eyes widened in shock. Oh, so that was it. Of course it was. How could she think it was anything else? Her heart was racing now, her stomach churning. How could she respond? Why did she ever think she could fight a giant?
âAnd you act like youâre so much better because you were best friends with him,â Stan sneered, placing particular mocking emphasis on that part. âHeâs MY brother! MY family! He probably only talked to you because youâre â weird and small and he felt bad! Youâre just a thing, an experiment for him to get all excited about! He never cared about you!â
Jay knew responding would be a bad idea, but her lips moved faster than her brain. âOh yeah? He didnât even want to think about you! I didnât even know you existed until you showed up here! Maybe if you werenât such a lazy freeloader, he wouldââ
It was at that moment her life flashed before her eyes.
AAAAAA SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU AGAIN!!!! đŤđâ¨ď¸ Hope you have been well.
THANK YOU FRIEND!!! i have been well thank you for asking! just very, very busy with life and my big adult job that ends up sidetracking me for weeks at a time. but if there's one thing i can do consistently, it's leave tumblr for months at a time and then come back!
^^^^^
Never cared for Laputa or Everyoneâs A Horse Now land. I only ever read Lilliput and Brobdingnag even when I was carrying my little pocket-bible unabridged version everywhere in university, hahaha
after baby taro watched arrietty and the borrowers she was hooked
i used to collect buttons, acorns, little mints, pretzels, water bottle caps, and tiny jars and everything else i thought could be useful for the borrowers living in my walls and faeries in my backyard. boy i would be shocked when they didnt take them in the night lol.
Finding the movie the Iron Giant as a kid and it is so ingrained into my head because I watched it a million times. So much so that even now I can still recite basically the whole movie from memory đđ
I never liked dolls as a child, but I was suspiciously obsessed with some polly pocket dolls that my sister had because they were REALLY tiny, like, 2 cm tall or so
I used to pretend they were alive and I was their giant friend
super specific - discovering the Gulliverâs Travels series created by Little Fox on Youtube and rewatching it often and fondly as a child
Epic (2013), which I have the DVD or Blu-Ray of and had the McDonaldâs toy for it, which was my favourite toy until it broke (see below)
watching and owning the DVD or Blu-Rays of most of the Tinkerbell movies - specifically The Great Fairy Rescue being my favourite, The Pirate Fairy coming in second
Which, admittedly, wasnât much. Pulling the lever, smacking the big button, pushing and flicking and kicking every button and switch and piece of metal he could see, but it was no use. Not even a spark.
Journal in hand, he quietly made his way toward the elevator. He was relieved to see the tiny person seemingly asleep, because he couldnât deal with that right now. He spent his night poring through the pages, slumped over on the bed in Fordâs room, occasionally rubbing his glasses like it was a genieâs lamp, hoping it would make him reappear at any moment.
He didnât remember falling asleep that night, but dim sunlight passing over his eyes told him he must have been out for a while, because the storm had subsided, but only outside. Stanley instantly remembered every detail from the night before; most notably, the strange little person he had encountered and subsequently stranded. His stomach churned at that. That was a pretty terrible thing to do, wasnât it? It felt nice to feel like he had power for a little bit, but 12 hours removed from his initial shock and anger, that familiar feeling of helplessness was creeping back in. If he wanted to get Ford back as quickly as possible, he needed all the help he could get. Besides, this nonsensical journal made almost no sense to Stanley. Maybe it made sense to the half-pint.
But when he dragged himself back down to the bunker, he gasped. The tiny person was lying down the same way she had been last night. She hadnât even moved, it looked like.
âOh, no,â Stanley mumbled, rapidly putting the journal down and scrambling on top of the table. His stomach sank as he peered inside the jar â her eyes were most definitely closed, and he couldnât tell if she was breathing or the glass was just warped. Carefully, he lifted the jar into his hands as he hopped back down to the ground. He nearly recoiled at how cold the jar was to the touch. That couldnât be good. He let out a huge sigh when he saw her squirm ever so slightly at the change in altitude⌠but she still didnât wake up.Â
âGreat, just great,â Stan groaned. âNow I have to take care of this.â He was going to pretend like this wasnât his doing in the first place.
The first thing he did was unscrew the lid; he winced at the loud squeaking noise it made. He stood still for a moment, questioning if he really wanted to do this. He could just stick the jar back up on the shelf, behind some books, and forget this ever happened⌠but this thing, tiny as she was, was a person, with thoughts and feelings and apparent knowledge on the very thing he was puzzling over. And sure, she may be weird, but Stan could really use some company he didnât meet in a Colombian prison.
He carefully tilted the jar down and allowed the tiny person to slide onto his palm, thinking that would be enough to stir them from whatever deep sleep they were in. But to Stanâs horror, it was like holding an ice cube in his hand. They were freezing. No wonder they werenât waking up.Â
He groaned, keeping his hand far away from his body like he was holding something poisonous. He twisted around a few times to see if he could use anything to warm her up. Didnât Ford keep any space heaters down here?Â
âCâmon, Poindexter, you gotta have something,â Stanley muttered. He glanced down at the tiny again. He was trying not to think about the fact that they even exist, because the moment he did, he would have to accept the fact that his entire worldview was now decidedly, permanently, altered from this. Somehow, with all he had been through, this was still the weirdest thing heâs ever seen.
And she was just â a person. But really, really small. There was no discernible difference, as far as Stan could tell. Boy, that really has to suck, he thought as he pushed aside junk on every table. How can anyone live like that?
Eventually, he found what he was looking for â sort of. It was a ragged cloth, covered in grease and, as a sniff test determined, various other fluids. But as long as it meant not having to hold some half-alive miniature human, he didnât care. He unceremoniously dumped her into the cloth, once again relieved to see her still on this earth as she squirmed a bit at the new surface.
âUgh. Finally,â Stan grumbled. He quickly set the cloth on the table and got up to continue tweaking the portal, letting out a breath he didnât know he was holding.
He stopped after a few steps.
He couldnât just⌠ugh. He turned back around, flexing his hands. I canât just leave âem here. Ew. Why was he thinking that? Because theyâre smaller than a damn pencil and canât survive here on their own. Okay, so what? And how did he even know that? He had no obligation to take care of anyone but himself. But theyâll die down here. Who cares? And itâd be all your fault. No, it wouldnât. Just like Ford.
Stanley shut his eyes and rubbed them hard. Since when did he develop a conscience? That was inconvenient. But this pipsqueak had said something that Stan found he couldnât get out of his mind â I was around when Ford worked on it. Even if she didnât actually do anything, she knew Ford and had some semblance of understanding about the inner workings of this thing, which was more than Stan could say. Maybe she knew where the other journals were, too. Or maybe sheâd be able to stop Stan from going insane.
Ugh.
He pulled up the rickety stool he was sitting on last night and flopped down, placing his elbows on the table and leaning his chin into his hands. He narrowed his eyes and concentrated on her tiny form, as if it would help her wake up. Though he didnât do anything to jolt her awake, his concentration did pay off when he started to notice her breathing. It stunned his mind silent. He could actually see her tiny chest expanding, retracting, expanding, retracting with her breathing. Tiny strands of her hair were being pushed and pulled along with the movement. She was dirtier than she looked from afar. Can she even take a shower? Eugh. She had all sorts of scratches and bruises along her skin including a long gash over her left eye that would have looked kind of badass if it probably didnât come from fighting a rat or something.Â
It was hard to imagine Ford actually befriending something â someone like that, and regarding them as an equal. Stan wasnât even sure he could think of them as equal. Ford had a condescending way about him; heâs been looking down on Stan since they were teenagers. Why should some four-inch-tall person get more respect than he did? It wasnât fair. Stan was family. Family was the most important thing in the world. Right?
Stanley took one more long look at the tiny and sighed. Yeah, she probably wasnât waking up anytime soon. Well, he was already sitting down⌠he might as well keep thumbing through this journal and see if he could make any sense of it.
*******
Why was everything so fuzzy?
It was like she was moving underwater. Even blinking seemed to go in slow motion. It didnât help that she was wandering around some dark, dirty room. She couldnât even feel her limbs moving. They just⌠did.
Whoâs there?
That voice. It was unmistakable! She called out his name, straining her voice more each time.
Hello?
Why couldnât he hear her? He always heard her. She screamed even louder. âITâS ME!â she yelled. âRIGHT HERE!â
What in the worldâŚ
A form that didnât even look like his loomed large over her. His glasses were opaque, his expression stoic. He seemed to have no regard for her as his foot slammed down next to her, causing her to fall. She tried to get up, but the sensation of him kneeling down was enough to keep her pressed into the ground. He extended his hand right at her, emotionless, unwavering, not stopping until he gets what he wants. He didnât seem to hear her pleading, even as he snatched her up. The squeezing feeling was nearly suffocatingâ
Suddenly, she shot up. Her ears were ringing, and she was drenched in a cold sweat, but everything was moving at normal speeds again. She allowed herself a few heavy breaths before wiping her face with her hands. It had been ages since sheâd last had a nightmare that bad. Not sinceâŚ
âSheesh, about time you woke up.â
Her blood ran ice cold as she slowly turned her head to meet the booming voice. Him. Fordâs brother. Stanley. The one who stuck her inside a jar last night and left her for dead. Maybe she was still dreaming. Or maybe this was the afterlife.
She began to inch back, planning on pressing herself to the back of the glass jar, but immediately sank downward. What the hell? She jerked her head down, discovering a grey cloth that was once probably white cushioning her. Before she could even think, stars filled her vision, and she clutched her head as her temples throbbed.
Stan raised an eyebrow at her reaction, letting out a small eugh at the way she wobbled back and forth. He guessed it had to be a bit disorienting to be stuck on a tabletop, barely even registering as a speck in this massive place.
He watched â in pity, he later realized, which made him shudder â as the tiny person whipped her head around, clearly disoriented and clearly freaked out by Stanâs proximity. When their eyes met, hers burned with a fear he wasnât quite sure heâd ever seen before. He kept a straight face, but he knew he had to say something. This was starting to make him uncomfortable.
âWoah, woah, take it easy,â he grumbled, his voice softer than he expected it would be. âIâm not gonna do that again.â Her skeptical expression made him snicker. âIâm serious, short stuff. I was just⌠mad, last night. Lost my temper.â
Yeah, she thought, cold creeping up her spine. Thatâs the problem.
Stan couldnât take looking her in the eye anymore, so he brought his focus back to the journal, pretending to scan through its pages. A few minutes passed, and the tiny didnât move.
âYou were freezing,â Stan started, not looking up from the book. âInside that jar. So I found that cloth. Thought it might warm you up.â
Jay wanted to laugh, but nothing about that was funny. No wonder she felt so lethargic. She nearly froze to death. Somewhere inside her, she appreciated the gesture, but it didnât take heightened senses to know this rag was gross. She would almost rather freeze than smell like⌠god, what even was that?
Stanley frowned. He supposed he shouldnât be surprised she didnât want to talk to him, but it mildly freaked him out that she wouldnât even look at him. She kept her eyes trained at the ground, trying not to make any sudden movements, like he would forget all about her if she stayed still long enough. Ugh. Why did he feel so bad about this? I guess it is my fault.
âYâknow, I never, uh, asked you what your name was.â
Jay blinked. No, he didnât, and she sure as hell didn't want him to know it. It would just be another thing he could use against her if he had to. But what power did she have in this situation to stay silent? He could â no, would â just throw her back in the jar at the slightest inconvenience.
Stan shifted uncomfortably. âLook, tiny, I⌠I know I probably shouldnât have put you in that jar.â Jay looked up, surprised. She wasnât expecting an apology. Stan tried to hide his amusement at her tiny movements. âAnd I know you have no reason to trust me. But if we want to get Ford back, we need to work together, right? Not like you can fix the portal all by yourself.â Jay thought for a moment, brushing aside yet another size-related comment, then gave a tentative nod. She didnât feel like facing his wrath by disagreeing. âSo, whadda ya say? Truce?â
Truce was a strong word. She didnât want to do this, but she had to. He was right about one thing â there was nothing she could do in this situation without Stanâs help. And she really, really just wanted to get Ford back as quickly as possible so she never had to see his twin again.
She flinched when a giant finger entered her view, stopping inches in front of her face â a reflex that did not go unnoticed by Stan. He was going for one of those handshakes that humans loved to do. Just like Ford had done when they first met.
Stan was grinning, but it had a smarmy edge to it that she didnât like. He was amused by the size difference, and his smile only grew wider when Jay hesitantly reached her hands out and placed them on either side of his fingertip. He gently shook his finger, but the movement was enough to nearly pull Jay into the air from her seated position. She quickly regained her balance and shot Stan a nasty look. He just laughed.
âOh, this is gonna be fun,â he said, wiping a fake tear from his eye. That was all Jay needed to get serious.
âOkay, listen, if weâre gonna be doing this, we need to lay down some ground rules.â
Stanâs eyes briefly lit up at the sound of her voice. âOh? And what would those be?â
Jay rolled her eyes. âNo touching me without asking. No, you know what, no touching me at all. Iâm not your plaything. And if I say something, you actually have to listen. Donât just brush me off. AndâŚâ she trailed off, unsure of how bold she wanted to be.Â
âAnd? And what?â Stan was still smiling. Jay grimaced.
âAnd⌠you need to share food and water with me. Itâs⌠what Ford did.â
The room grew quiet at the mention of Fordâs name, and even Stan could sense this wasnât the moment for a joke. He didnât put two seconds into thinking how she would eat or drink, but itâs not like she could just walk down the street and go to the grocery store. He didnât feel like getting into the fact that he had no money for food or water or⌠anything.
Stan stole a glance at the tiny, who was clearly waiting for an acknowledgement. It didn't seem like she noticed him faltering. Stan leaned back, waving his hand dismissively. âYeah, sure, whatever, easy enough. You should know that Iâm not too good at following rules, though.â
Jay sighed. Just when she thought she had gotten through⌠no, it was fine. He had listened... in his own Stanley way.
âIâm serious though, kid, you gotta tell me your name. I doubt you want me calling you pipsqueak all the time.â
Jay crossed her arms. âYouâll do that anyway.â
Stan smiled. âYeah, probably.â
Despite herself, Jay smirked. This giant definitely had Fordâs cockiness, but also his intangible charm. He was unapologetically himself.Â
âMy nameâs Jay,â she said finally, taking a moment to meet Stanâs eyes. Her cheeks flushed red when he raised his eyebrows.
âJay? Huh. Interesting. Is that short for somethinâ?â Stan paused before bursting out into laughter. âShort for something â ha! I mean â you are, short for something â HA!â
âOkay, not funny,â she mumbled, her entire face now burning.
âNo, itâs pretty funny.â Stan shook for a few more seconds. âOkay, okay, Iâm done.â
âDo you actually want to know why thatâs my name?â
Stan leaned down, intrigued. âOh, thereâs actually a reason? Thought it was just some weird tiny person thing.â
âYes, thereâs actually a reason,â Jay shot back, trying to hide her nerves. âAll borrower names have significance.â
It took Stan a moment to remember what a borrower was, but he just nodded, prompting her to continue.
âI, um. I grew up in the forest,â she started tentatively, gauging his reaction. He just kept staring. Jay moved her gaze back to her lap. âSo we relied a lot on nature. My, uh, family⌠they relied on birds, a lot. We helped them, they helped us, that kind of thing. So they named me Jay.â She paused, giving Stan room to say something. He didnât. âLike the bird.â
âYeah, I got that,â Stanley said, sounding a little breathless. He would never admit it, but that little detail had completely captivated him. She grew up in the forest? It really was like a fairy tale. Except she was no fairy, and this was no tale. After reading through the journal last night, it was clear that this town was full of wacky paranormal weirdness, because Ford didnât have enough of an imagination to dream all of that nonsense up himself.Â
But there was nothing in the journal about this tiny â Jay â that he could use as a reference. He was curious, sure, but he wasn't going to waste his time asking her details about her weird tiny life. He just wanted his brother back. She was a vehicle to make that happen. That was it. Nothing more.
Jay cleared her throat. âSo if you could just call me that, instead of some degrading size-based nickname, that would be appreciated.â
âHm? Oh, sure thing, short stuff.â Jay let out a long sigh, but Stan didnât hear. He tapped the journal impatiently. âCan we get back to the important stuff now? Like, what doesâŚâ Stan squinted at the page, â...âquantum entanglementâ mean? That sounds made up.â
Jay rubbed the brim of her nose. âIt meansââ
âNope, donât care,â Stan cut her off, flipping to the next page. âFirst lesson â donât waste my time with a bunch of nerdy words that I wonât understand. Iâm sure we can figure this out without you giving me a chemistry lesson.â
âItâs physics,â Jay mumbled, plopping down on the table. She allowed the journal to tower over her as she stared straight ahead, out into the vast room before her. She had spent a lot of nights down in this bunker, and it was hard not to feel a little wistful for the times when Ford would fall asleep with papers stuck to his face, or when Fiddleford was so hopped up on caffeine he would dance around the room and talk a million miles per hour, or the rare times when Ford would share personal anecdotes and forget all about the portal for a few hours.Â
Now, in the blink of an eye, it was gone, replaced with a dark, musty room whose only occupants were a tired, run-down Jay and her best friendâs sarcastic, impatient twin brother whom she did not trust one bit. Ford was always telling her to trust no one. Maybe itâs high time she listened.
Stan silently flipped through the journal for another five minutes before letting out a loud groan and slamming his head down into the pages. Jay let out a small yelp, instinctively scooting back.
âThis is stupid,â Stan said to no one in particular. âIâm getting a soda.â
Jay watched, helpless, as Stan disappeared down the hall, mumbling about Fordâs apparent stupidity.Â
hello yes i am kind of back!!! believe it or not i am always writing and dont post stuff like 90% of the time⌠itâs been so long but i was like damn i want to post again! i want to share this w ppl! so i did!
aka when you fall back down the gravity falls rabbit hole and before you know it you're brainstorming every possible g/t idea...
and then you end up with something like this: ford's borrower friend is left alone and confused when a mysterious force jolts them awake one night... and discovers that the author of the journals has a mysterious twin brother
s/o to @pocket-lad for all the ramblings about giant stans and for fostering this idea with me -- check out their take on this!!
part 2
--------------------
Jay had never felt tremors like this before.
She thought the earth was about to split open and swallow her whole with how intensely her world shook. Of course she had felt earthquakes before â or what she thought were earthquakes. Ford had tried to explain it a million times, and Jay pretended to get it around explanation No. 837,382 so she wouldnât have to hear it anymore.
But that was ages ago. Ford had gotten pretty much impossible to talk to after the whole triangle worshiping thing, and after Fiddleford quit, the house had fallen into an intense state of disrepair. Jay still lived here, of course, because it was warm and safe and Ford still remembered to leave food and water out for her. But anytime she tried to talk to him, he would look at her like he was hallucinating. He probably was.
It had been a few weeks since the two had actually spoken face to face. She felt uncomfortable trying to get through to someone who clearly wasnât himself anymore. But this â earthquake, whatever it was â was enough to scare her to the point where she was afraid of being alone. She at least had to ask Ford what had happened; even if he was delusional most of the time, she knew him well enough that she could glean some sort of answer from his ramblings.
Careful not to trip over fallen objects, Jay made her way from her little hiding spot upstairs to the small pulley system Ford helped her construct to get down to the bunker. That had taken a lot of convincing, since Ford didnât understand why he couldnât just carry her down with him every time â âItâs much more practical!â he would say, dramatically pointing his finger up in the air â but she eventually persuaded him because he liked a challenge. It worked just as lowering a bucket into a well did, a simple enough mechanism that Jay could use herself no matter what. Ford was always fascinated by her raw strength.
The house was dark and quiet â nothing new â but there was an eerie feeling in the air that Jay just couldnât shake. Something felt⌠wrong. Fordâs presence was easily felt, and Jay couldnât sense him anywhere. The only sound was the snowstorm battering against the thin glass windows, making the wood creak and shake but nothing more. With one hand, Jay clutched the sewing needle that served as her protection. The other was pressed behind her back, ready to fend off anything from behind. It didnât make her feel much better.
âWhat did you do now, FordâŚâ Jay muttered to herself, eyes darting left and right. It was hard to make out much of anything, but the usual controlled chaos of the main floor felt skewed, and it was clear to see from up on the table. Maybe once she got to her makeshift elevator, sheâd start to feel better.
But she stopped short of the bunkerâs entrance, because a sudden noise scared the living daylights out of her. She flung her needle forward, but nothing was in her immediate vicinity. She cautiously lowered the weapon, and it didnât take long for her eyes to find the source. Standing in the center of the main room, staring intently at the journal like it was his last remaining possession on Earth, wasâŚ
âFord?â
Ford froze, stiff as a board. Jay swallowed the lump in her throat. He was probably pissed at her.
âFordâŚâ Jay paused. She didnât really think about what she would say if â when â she finally saw him. âWhatâwhat happened? Is everything okay? Itâsââ
She was cut off abruptly when Ford turned around, and Jayâs stomach dropped so fast she thought it might take her through the floor. He â this man â he had Fordâs face, but this was not him. The hair was all wrong (he had a mullet, for Christâs sake). The posture. The clothes. The look in his glasses-less eyes as he stared right at her. This wasnât him. Jay was baffled. Did he do something to himself? Is this just what he looked like now? Could he really have changed that much in a few weeks?
Not-Ford blinked, then blinked again. His mouth hung slightly agape, and his eyes were blown wide. He looked dirty and tired, but most pressing, he looked mad. Mad at Jay.
âWhat theâŚâÂ
Not-Fordâs gruff, hoarse voice was the final nail in the coffin. Ford didnât sound like that. Even when he was losing his mind, he spoke with a surprising amount of authority. He was just like that. This man⌠he sounded lost.
The reality of the situation hit Jay like a freight train. Slowly, she held her hands up and began to back away, like she was retreating from an animal. Whether this was some weird, alternate version of Ford or a complete stranger, it didnât change the fact that she was being seen.
Jay was quick. Not-Ford was quicker.
At a blinding speed that Jay would never get used to from humans, Not-Ford had grabbed a jar from an adjacent table and slammed it on top of her, eliciting a very high-pitched scream. She jumped when a piece of paper replaced the wood of the table underneath her feet, and in just a few seconds, her world turned upside down. Literally. She was flipped to the bottom of the jar as Not-Ford brought her shaking form up to eye level.
âWhat the hell are you?â That rough voice was distorted through thick glass, but still terrifying. âAnd what the hell do you know about my brother?â
Jay almost choked. Brother? Ford had never mentioned a brother.
âWhâwhoâwhereâs Ford?â Jay barely had the courage to speak.
âOh, it talks,â Not-Ford sounded intrigued for a moment. âWhat, are you one of his experiments gone wrong? Youâre so⌠tiny.â
Jay opened her mouth to respond, but her words died in her throat when Not-Ford â Fordâs brother, apparently â tilted the jar to the side, causing her to fall to the side with an unceremonious oof. He was observing her, like some caged animal. She tried to regain her footing, but failed miserably each time. Her legs felt like they were still stuck in those tremors. She wanted to yell at him to stop, but she could barely get air in her lungs as she was swirled around like water going down a drain.Â
âHuh,â Not-Ford said, going still after what felt like a million years. âDid my brother do this to you?â
Jay stumbled and tilted her head. âDoâdo what?â
âWhat do you mean, do what. Make you tiny.â
âMake me â no, he didnât make me tiny,â Jay shot back, almost insulted. She felt the anger boil up inside of her when Not-Ford almost smiled.
âOh, man, you really got the short end of the stick, then. Literally.â
Despite herself, Jay rolled her eyes. Height jokes. Very original.
âLâlook, I donât know who you are, butââ
âCan it, pipsqueak!â Jay actually had to cover her ears at the sheer volume of his voice. âIâm asking the questions here. Did you help him with this â portal thing?â
The portal. The tremors. Jayâs eyes widened. No. He didnâtâŚ
Fordâs brother evidently understood her look of recognition. âAh, so you do know about it. Well, youâre gonna help me fix it.â
âWhââ Jay didnât get a chance to speak as he swung the jar to his side. She flew into the side, and she tried to ignore the way her arm crunched under the pressure. The world whizzed by underneath her feet, and she could barely keep her balance with the way Not-Ford was lumbering around. Looks like she was getting a ride down to the bunker after all.
Jayâs mind raced with ways she could get herself out of this. As badly as she wanted to figure out what happened to Ford, she didnât care to have this guy help her. She could easily find Ford by herself. Maybe she could try to find Fiddleford, too, but for all Jay knew, he was halfway across the world at this point, so that was probably a fruitless effort. He was very adamant about quitting when he left that night, which always made Jay sad whenever she thought about it. She sorely missed his calm demeanor and gentleness with her. She liked spending time with Ford, but at the end of the day, he had a tendency to regard her as some kind of scientific marvel, not a fully functioning person. Fiddleford never seemed to care. He just wanted to make sure she was safe and happy.
A harsh jolt brought Jay back to reality. Oh. Right. Not-Ford. Fordâs crazy brother. It had taken her a bit to notice, but Not-Fordâs hands were shaking. And the anger⌠it didnât seem like he was mad at her. That made no sense; the only crime she was guilty of was knowing Ford. But the way he spoke about Ford â like he wasnât here right now â and how the portal needed fixing, and he wanted help doing it⌠what exactly happened?
âStupid secret bunker⌠stupid portal⌠stupid brotherâŚâ Not-Ford muttered. He was glancing behind him, as if Ford would pop out at any moment and yell surprise!
Not-Ford definitely got discombobulated, but he eventually found his way back to the control room. He threw the jar onto the main control panel, and Jay shut her eyes, hoping the sensation of moving would fade away quickly.
âAlright, short stuff,â Not-Ford said gruffly, slamming a journal in front of her. âTell me how to turn this thing on.â
Jay started blankly at the journal. It wasnât even opened to the correct section, and she could barely see over the horizon of the pages.
Not-Ford grunted. âWell, what are you waiting for?â He narrowed his eyes at her. âTiny people can read, right?â
âWhâwhat makes you think I can do anything?â Jay managed to choke out. It had worked on Ford when they first met; using her diminutive size to her advantage. She had wriggled out of so many things she didnât want to do by playing the useless card.Â
Fordâs brother stopped. He abruptly grabbed the jar, lifting it up to his dirty, unhappy face. Jay gasped and inched back until her head softly hit the glass. Through the distortion of her clear prison, it looked like he was actually considering her words. If he was anything like Ford, it would work.
He was nothing like Ford.
âHeh, if you want to weasel your way out of this, youâre gonna have to try harder, tiny,â he smirked, placing the jar back in front of the journal.Â
Jay shook her head in disbelief. âBut â what ââ she paused. Trying to reason with him wouldnât work. This guy clearly didnât work like that. With wide eyes and trembling hands, Jay considered her next move. Her primary goal of getting the hell out of this jar didnât seem like it was going to happen anytime soon, and he obviously wasn't going to fall for a sob story. She could help him, but based on the way heâs been acting, heâd probably put her in a closet and forget about her as quickly as he found her. She looked up, trying to read Not-Ford through the warped glass. His hands were tightly wrapped around his waist, and his eyes darted nervously at every little sound. His demeanor didnât match his tough-guy attitude one bit.
A lightbulb went off in Jayâs head: Heâs desperate. And she could use that to her advantage.
âIâll help you if you tell me what happened,â she said, sounding way less assertive than she wanted to. Not-Ford regarded her in something of a condescending curiosity before bursting out into laughter. Jay felt the heat rush to her cheeks. Why was he laughing? What was so funny? Oh, she shouldnât have tried to play tough. She was in no position to negotiate.
âTrying to do this my way, huh?â Not-Ford leaned back in his seat. âAlright, Iâll play along.â
Jay was stunned silent.
âGo ahead, ask me what you wanna know. But donât think about trying to be slick, because I have no problem shaking you around like a martini.â
It took her a second to gather her thoughts. She wasnât planning on conning him, because she knew the consequences, but it was interesting that Not-Ford defaulted to assuming the worst. There were a million things she wanted â needed â to ask, but he was volatile. She had to tread carefully. So she started simple.
âWh⌠whatâs your name? And are you really⌠Fordâs brother?â
âNameâs Stanley,â he said, brushing some loose hair from his face. âAnd yeah, Poindexter's my brother. Weâre twins.â
âTwinsâŚâ Jay repeated. Thatâs why they looked identical, even down to their names. But why would Ford never say anything about it? âI⌠Ford never mentioned anything about having a twin.â
Stanley laughed. âYeah, thatâs not surprising. We havenât seen each other in years. He was probably tryinâ to pretend I didnât exist.â
Jay frowned. Stanley sounded miserable saying that out loud, and she didnât need to ask to know what that meant.Â
âAnd what are you supposed to be? Some kind of fairy or something? I know Ford was into weird stuff, but this is just unnatural.â
Jay crossed her arms. âIâm a borrower.â
Stanley blinked. âYou say that like Iâm supposed to know what that is.â
âWell, itâs what⌠I am,â Jay said, gesturing to herself.
âOkay⌠so, what? You were Fordâs pet or something?â
âI was not â no!â Jay cried as that familiar sinking feeling entered her stomach. She was not about to do this again right now. âI am not a pet!â
âOkay, okay, yeesh,â Stanley said, throwing his hands up. âSore subject, I see.â
âWe were⌠friends,â Jay said cautiously. âHe respected me. I think.â
âYou think?â Stanley laughed. âOh, Iâm sure he did. He loves listening to other people. Especially when theyâre the size of a doll.â
Jay felt the tears welling up in her eyes, but pushed past it. There were more pressing matters at hand than her feelings. âWhere⌠where is Ford? What happened?â
Stanley froze, like all his bodily control was stolen from him. For a moment, he stared off into the distance, something flashing before his eyes that only he could see. If Jay didnât know any better, sheâd almost say he looked⌠embarrassed.
âI â he â we got into a fight,â Stanley said, hanging his head a bit. âOne second, he was here, and the next, some wacky machine turns on and heâs beinâ pulled right into it! And I canât get it back on, because in case you havenât noticed, Iâm the handsome twin, not the nerdy twin. So either you help me get this thing back on or Iâllââ
âWait wait wait. He went through?â
âWhat, are your tiny ears incapable of hearing? That's what I just said!â Stanley cried.
Jay felt like she was going to throw up. Fiddleford walked out on site from what he saw inside that portal, and Ford went mad trying to make sure it was never used again. If he got pulled throughâŚ
â...he might not even be alive,â Jay whispered, her voice trembling as violently as her body.Â
Stanley leaned in, causing Jay to recoil. âWhat? Youâre gonna have to talk louder than that, pipsqueak. I can barely hear you.â
âI said HE MIGHT BE DEAD!â
For a moment, Stanleyâs face remained stoic. But it soon twisted into a cocktail of sadness, rage and annoyance, his eyes practically glowing red, staring straight through Jayâs soul.
Jay tensed up. Maybe that was a bad idea.
âWhat did you say?â
âNothing. F-forget I said anything,â Jay stammered, holding her hands up. She retreated â as if there was anywhere she could go. Stanley could kill her in 10,000 different ways, and she didnât even want to speculate about any of them.
But instead of taking the jar, Stanley just sighed. âThatâs right, tiny. I donât wanna hear any of that. My brother may be the biggest pain in the ass Iâve ever known, but he is one tough son of a bitch and there is no way some â stupid gadget killed him!â
Jay opened her mouth, but stopped. Something piqued her interest.
âHow⌠how much do you know about the portal?â
Stanley glared at her. âNothing. Thatâs why Iâve resorted to asking some half-baked person to help me.â
âNo, I mean⌠did Ford tell you anything about what it does?â
âYeah,â Stanley said, though he sounded unsure. âSomething about a universal gateway into unfathomable knowledge, blah blah, boring nerd stuff. Look, it doesnât matter, just â tell me how to get it back on already, will ya?!â
âI donâtâ!â Jay started to yell, but she took a breath. She couldnât lose her cool. âI was here â around â I would watch when Ford and Fidds were working on it, but itâs not like I understood any of it.â Jay shut her eyes, waiting for blowback, some kind of retaliation. But it never came. Stanley just stared at her, eyes shaking. âBesides, if you only have one journal, you canât⌠Ford wrote three journals, see, and they have to be combined to build it. Sort of a failsafe thing. Do you have the others?â
Stanley shook his head. âHe told me he buried them or something. He didnât want to turn that thing back on, I â I donât even know what happened.â
There was a long stretch of silence after that. The two of them just stared at each other, unmoving. It was hard for Jay to put all the pieces together based on the limited useful information Ford told her after Fidds quit, but one thing was crystal clear â that portal should be shut down at all costs. Ford kept saying he was tricked, and using the portal again would destroy the universe. Jay believed him, too, because the kind of stuff he got himself into always seemed bigger than themselves. If Ford actually was taken through the portal, then that means it was turned on⌠and the universe was still here. No mass destruction, no end of humanity, no triangles. Everything seemed to be okay⌠except for the noticeable lack of Ford.
Ford. The first human she had ever talked to; one of the only beings on earth she considered to be her friend. Sure, he was obsessive, invasive and sometimes lacked humanity⌠but he was also protective, curious and caring of her. Jay hadnât had to hunt for food in a year. She had unlimited access to cold, clean water. The worst thing she had to endure was Fordâs endless stream of questions and experiments, but it was a trade sheâd make 100 times out of 100 if it meant sustenance, shelter and safety for the rest of her life.Â
Above all, Ford trusted her. He would let her watch other experiments, take her on trips, and even contribute to brainstorming sessions. She would listen quietly as Ford and Fidds reminisced about their Backupsmore days and the things they would do to change the world. She felt part of it all. Ford made her feel part of it all.
So what would he want her to do, right now, in this moment? He would never want to put himself above the safety of humanity; not once he found out what Bill was really up to. He would rather spend a thousand years in another dimension than risk the safety of this one. Maybe the portal didnât do anything this time, but would they be so lucky again? Something told her no. Maybe there was a reason Ford didnât talk to his brother anymore. Maybe he was just reckless. With Fidds and Ford both gone now⌠it really was up to her to keep everyone safe.
Jay sighed, realizing she needed to say something before Stanley shook her around again. âLook, even if I â even if I wanted to, you need those other journals, and I â I donât really understand all that mechanical stuff. Iâm⌠Iâm sorry, Stanley. I donât know how to turn it back on.â
Stanley said nothing. Jay gulped. Oh, boy, he was mad.
âI â I just mean â I canât ââ
âWhat do you mean, even if you wanted to?â
Jay paused. The temperature in the room seemed to drop 20 degrees. âIâ wellââ
âMy brother is trapped on the other side of some â some â some inter-dimensional weirdness, and you donât even want to get him back?â
âThatâs not â I didnât mean ââ
But she didnât get to finish her sentence as Stanley grabbed the jar off the table, throwing Jay to the back of the glass again. âListen to this, tiny! I donât care what some half-pint wants! Heâs my family! And if youâre not going to help me get him back, then â then youâre useless to me!â
âWait, Stanley, come on, I ââ
âAnd stop saying my name as if weâre on the same level here! Youâre just some â some â some thing my brother happened to find interesting. You donât know anything about Ford!â
âYouâre one to talk, considering Iâve spent more time with him in the last year than you have for the last 10!â
All the oxygen in the room seemed to evaporate. Jay didnât mean to say that, not really â sure, itâs how she felt, but she didnât want to say it out loud. Maybe Stanley didnât hear her. Maybe he wouldnât even care. Maybe heâd just say youâre right and come to his senses.
Maybe not.
It was perhaps scarier that Stanley didnât say anything in response. Instead, he simply blinked a few times, took a few breaths, then got moving.Â
He didnât know where he was going, just that he wanted to be anywhere but here right now, talking to anyone but â but â damn it, he didnât even know her name. It didnât matter. This stupid little thing was right about one thing â sheâd spoken to his brother more in the last week than he had for a decade. What did Stan do to deserve this? Just because he broke his dumb brotherâs dumb science project back in high school? And just when he was hopeful Ford was ready to turn the page, they got right back into it â and now he was gone, with no way to come back.
He glanced down at the impossibly small figure in the jar. How was this even possible? He didnât think any of that fairy tale folk junk was real. And Ford would befriend it, too. They probably forged some weird bond over being weird.Â
Deep down, Stan felt bad. He barely knew this little guy, and he didnât really have a right to keep them trapped. But right now, he was pissed off and feeling irrational. The more he stared at this tiny being, the more it reminded him of everything he lost with Ford.
So he found the highest shelf and stuck the jar up there.
âHEY! ARE YOU KIDDING ME! HEY!!!â Jay kicked at the glass, as if that would do anything. âYOU CANâT LEAVE ME UP HERE!â
âI can do whatever the hell I want, pipsqueak,â Stanley mumbled, not even bothering to look her in the eye. In an instant, he was gone, head down and hands shoved in his pockets. He had work to do.
âSTANLEY!!!!â Jay gave it one more try, but it was no use. Okay, donât panic. Youâve been in worse situations. Maybe I can just push the glass off the shelf. Jay slammed her body onto the side of the jar until she became numb. It barely moved an inch. Okay, maybe if I⌠no, that wonât work. Or I can⌠no, that wonât do either. What if⌠if⌠ifâŚ
âIf,â Jay sighed out loud, her legs crumbling beneath her. She was trapped. Stanley wasnât coming back to let her out. Ford wasnât coming back at all. She would die here. What first, starvation? Dehydration? Oxygen deprivation? It was all the same to her at this point.
Truthfully, she didnât know how much time passed. The low light of the bunker was the same any time of day, and she never saw Stanley pass by, so either it had only been a few hours or Stanley was working nonstop for days. The whirlwind of everything had finally caught up to her, and the cool glass of the jar felt nice when she laid down and stretched her body out. Thereâs not much I can do right now. Iâll think of something laterâŚ
