I've been in an angst writing mood lately, so I wrote a little something based on @nenoname 's post about finding Stan after Weirdmageddon and one of @aroace-get-out-of-my-face 's AUs :)
The AU and some major tags will be put under the fic to avoid spoilers, so if you have certain triggers, you can check them out. Now without further ado...
Stanford Pines is terrified. He shouldn't be, the apocalypse is over, Bill is dead, and everyone seems to be okay. Ford should be happy. Ecstatic even. He should be celebrating, jumping with joy, dancing, singing, whatever it is that normal and well-adjusted people do when the world finally feels at peace.
Except it didn't feel like that because Stanley was nowhere to be found. He could handle himself, Ford knew, but not like this. Not alone, not right now, not when he may not even be Stan anymore. There is no telling what he will remember, or even if he will remember anything at all because... Because Ford wasn't good enough. Ford failed. Ford wiped his brother's memory clean, and he didn't know if he could ever live with the guilt.
"Other Mr. Pines?" Ford flinches, caught off guard by the quiet mumble. The mole man – Zeus, was it? – shuffles closer, face twisted into an expression of concern. Behind him, the Corduroy girl whispers something to a solemn Dipper, while his sister clutches dejectedly at the hem of her pink sweater. The redhead smiles at them, and Ford guesses that she's trying to be comforting. It ends up looking more desperate than anything.
"Yes?" His voice sounds rough and shaky no matter how hard he tries to force himself to stay calm. Ford doesn't know what's worse, Mabel's tear-stained cheeks or the way Dipper hides his eyes under the bill of his cap. Maybe it's the fact that Stan is out there, lost and confused and probably scared out of his mind because he doesn't even know his own name anymore. Ford doesn't like thinking about that.
"Where's, um... Where..." Zeus tries to speak but his lip trembles so hard that he can't seem to finish the thought.
"Where did Stan go?" The Corduroy girl finishes instead, animosity clear in the tone of her voice. She never did seem to like him, but perhaps this time he deserves the hostility. He certainly feels like he does.
"I do not know."
"Convenient." The girl squints at him and huffs, though her face softens when Dipper whispers something that sounds like "windy." Perhaps Wendy? Is that her name?
"I'm sorry." He is. He is so incredibly sorry. Sorry enough for Wendy (?) to notice. She sighs and closes her eyes for a short moment before gently pushing the twins towards Zeus. Mabel sniffles as she clings to a hand the man offers, barely glancing at Dipper who grabs at the sleeve of her sweater. The redhead – presumably Wendy – shuffles away, muddy boots thudding softly against the dry dirt. For a few minutes, it's quiet.
"Hey! Everybody, listen up!" Wendy's voice cuts through the silence, still loud and sharp despite the girl being long out of sight. She's saying something, but Ford can't quite make out what it is. His ears are ringing all over again, and he feels like he's about to throw up. In the distance, people cheer, and clap, and whistle, but that doesn't last long either. Soon, the sound shifts to wandering footsteps, as people start to walk around them, splitting off into groups and looking around in a way that seemed almost frantic.
"Wendy?" Ford barely manages to stop himself from flinching at the quiet defeat in Dipper's voice. The redhead pops back into view, wearing a small, exhausted smile. So her name is Wendy, after all.
"They agreed to help look for Stan. C'mon, let's get going." She ushers Zeus away, and the kids follow with a newly restored hope in their eyes. Ford wishes he could feel the same way, but there is that weird feeling in his gut that usually doesn't mean anything good. He follows the group, though, because, one way or another, they do need to find Stan. Ford will just have to ignore the terrible knot of anxiety tightening in his chest for a little while. Perhaps it will go away on its own in due time.
☆☆☆
It doesn't. The horrible sense of something stays there for hours as they search, making a home deep behind his ribs like a bird weaving a nest in the branches of a rotten pine. It seems so wrong to feel this way, when the skies are blue again and the sun is shining so beautifully through the leaves, but it's not like he can help it. The knot keeps growing, filling the space in his stomach and crawling up his throat until he's pretty sure he can't speak anymore.
Though it probably doesn't matter. The conversation in front of him goes on and on, but the words don't process like they should. It's just a blur, a mass of words that pulses in his skull but refuses to settle. It almost hurts, the way the thoughts swirl and clash in his mind, but perhaps he deserves it...
...Ah, screw that, he definitely deserves it. The least he deserves, even. He deserves far worse than a little headache.
"Hey, what's that?" Wendy's voice rings through the air, pulling the twins out of whatever conversation they were having. They run towards it, Zeus close on their heels, but Ford is reluctant to follow. The feeling in his stomach rolls, shifts into something different. It pulls him away, away from the family he has just gotten back, and towards the spot where the trees start to thin into a clearing.
In all fairness, it's a beautiful place, a sanctuary hidden by the looming shadows of the anomalous forest. The light makes everything shine a pretty shade of gold, and isn't that something? It almost doesn't make Ford think of Bill. There is a rustle in the bushes to his left, and he is about half sure that he saw a pointy little hat shuffle into the dark leaves. Blades of grass sway in the soft summer breeze, only disturbed by stones, logs, and... Something else.
Someone else.
Someone in a long coat, and red sweater, and cracked glasses falling off the edge of his unfortunate nose.
Fuck.
Ford runs. He runs faster than he thought he could despite the years he spent fighting for his life in countless foreign worlds. He falls to his knees next to his brother's slumped form, pants scraping against the dusty ground. Searching for a pulse feels like looking for a miracle that never comes. The body – because, Moses, that's exactly what it is – is still warm, skin heated by the late August sun. Ford can barely move, barely breathe, barely think. Everything hurts, and he's suddenly so terribly exhausted that he world starts to melt away into a black abyss.
"Grunkle Ford, you won't believe what we just found! There's totally a Bill-shaped rock out there! You gotta go check it out!" Perfect. Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse. What is he supposed to tell the kids? Or Zeus who was weirdly attached to his brother for whatever reason? Or even Wendy for that matter? Oh, he can't. He can't do that right now. In the midst of his misery he can only pull his brother into his arms and fight against the tears building up behind his eyelids. "Grunkle Ford?"
"Yes, my dear?" His voice shakes, but he doesn't really care anymore. Something glints in the corner of his eye. It kind of looks like a vial.
"What happened to Grunkle Stan?"
Tags/TWs: Memory Vial AU, major character death, angst, Post-Weirdmageddon
So. I saw @babyblankyerror 's post about Stan dying and being reborn in another Stan's body. And I thought of the potential this idea has. Like, Gravity Falls has countless AUs, Stan could have ended up in any of them! So, I decided to write a little something for the soul. Hope you enjoy :P
TW: main character death, passive/mentioned suicide ideation
Stan is prepared to die. He isn't happy about it, not like he would have been a few months ago, but prepared. The portal is dangerous, Stan is old, and those two factors don't really leave him with the best chances of survival. And that's okay. As long as Ford and the kids aren't hurt, everything would be fine.
His back hurts like Hell, though, and he can't feel his legs, which... Probably isn't good, but Stan can't bring himself to care because Ford is back. Through a slowly spreading haze, Stan can see the man approaching rapidly, six-fingered hand hurriedly pulling the hood off his head. The mask slides down his face next, and Stan can finally see Ford in all his sci-fi glory.
It's weird, seeing a face so similar to his contorted into such a desperate frown, while feeling the corners of his own lips pull up in a tired smile. A cascade of footsteps sounds from somewhere to his left, two skittish sets followed by a heavier, sturdier frame. Ford whips his head towards the noise, cracked lens of his glasses glistening in the dimming light of the portal. Stan tries to speak but can only manage a pathetically quiet wheeze.
"Grunkle Stan!" The voice is muffled, but distinctly panicked. It sounds shrill. Mabel? Maybe Dipper if he's scared enough? Stan's attempted laugh turns into a cough so strong that it feels like his ribs are cracking with the force of it. The metallic taste of blood fills his mouth and latches to his very much fake teeth. Ouch. That can't be good.
"Mister Pines?" Stan starts to turn his head towards Soos's trembling voice, but six stern fingers pull his face back to stare into the terrified eyes of Stanford Pines.
"Stanley? You have to stay awake, alright? Please, you have to stay awake." Ford's gaze trails lower, down to Stan's numb legs, and he doesn't manage to swallow a stuttering gasp. "Just- Just listen to my voice, okay? I need some time, please."
And Stan tries. He really does, but he's just so tired. His vision is blurry, even blurrier than it was before he finally gave up and bought himself a flimsy pair of glasses. His hearing isn't any better, getting fuzzier by the second despite his hearing aid. His brother's – Moses, his brother is finally back – voice feels far away, as if muted by a thick layer of cotton. But there's something else too.
"Grunkle Stan?" It's pretty obvious that it's Dipper this time, tone uneven with stress and puberty. He sounds scared, helpless, and... Guilty. Stan knows what that sounds like just as well as he knows that Dipper has no reason to feel that way. He's just a kid, scared of an unknown, gravitational-anomaly creating device under the house he was living in. Rightfully so, Stan might add. He can't be mad at Dipper for doing what he thought was right, now can he? Well, as tired as he is, the least he can do is tell the kid his last ever truth.
"C-c'mon now, ya gremlins. 'S nothin' worth cryin' about." His voice came out small and raspy, and it earns a stiffled whine from Ford. Maybe not just Ford. Stan can't really tell anymore. "You- you should meet the author 'f th' journals. Ya been excited 'bout it. He's my brother, y'know." Another coughing fit rattles his entire body, sharp pain flaring up in his side.
"Stanley?" Ford's hand touches his chin, six fingernails digging into the skin with a desperate urgency.
"Mister Pines?!" Soos's voices crackles, as if coming through a faulty radio.
"Grunkle Stan!" Mabel's panicked face appears above him, blurring rapidly even through his newly cracked glasses.
"Grunkle Stan!" Dipper's hand finds his, and try as he might, Stan doesn't quite manage to squeeze back. The poor kid sounds and looks like he's on the verge of a breakdown. He's shouldn't look like that. At least not for someone like Stan.
"S'okay. Don' cry. Ford'll take good care o' ya." His breath feels shallow, and the world feels too far away. Everything hurts. Everything's numb. He's so tired. "'M sorry I didn' do better."
He let's his eyes close. He's okay with this. He deserves this.
Time to put an actual body in his grave, huh?
***
He's... Somewhere.
Or maybe nowhere.
He doesn't know.
He doesn't care.
Something is here.
Or maybe someone.
It calls itself the Axolotl.
It's saying something.
He doesn't know what.
He doesn't care.
He closes his eyes and plunges into the unknown.
***
He didn't expect to ever open his eyes again, and yet here he is, staring wearily at the blazing Sun above him. His head hurts. So does pretty much everything else. He's still utterly exhausted, limbs heavy with the weight of probably recent events.
Where is he, anyway? It seems terribly familiar-
"Lee? Lee, are you okay?" Woah, he hadn't heard that voice in decades. Little Ford's face swims into the view, blurry, but clearly concerned.
"Mmm," Stan hums noncommittally. His voice sounds squeakier than he remembers it being even at this age. That's weird.
"C'mon, you gotta get up," Ford huffs, hauling Stan into a sitting position. His face is red with sunburn, and judging by the ache in his cheeks, Stan's isn't any better. "Ma's gonna be so mad that you got into a fight again."
"At this point, it's kinda her fault if she wasn't expecting it," Stan snorts, stray hair tickling the junction between his shoulder and his neck. His hair wasn't that long at this age, was it? He couldn't quite remember anymore. "And at least Pa will approve."
"No matter how many times you say it, he really won't. He always says that girls shouldn't fight, you know." Ford doesn't seem to notice Stan's puzzled look, choosing to stare intently at his palms instead. He looks strangely ashamed, with his hands laid against the thick fabric of his jeans.
"What does that gotta do with anything?"
"Well, Pa's definitely not gonna be happy with you fighting someone for me again. He says that I should stop being such a sissy and that you should stop enabling it." Just as Stan is about to protest, Ford looks up at him with a smallest grin on his lips. "And Ma's pretty tired of patching up your skirt. I'm actually pretty sure it's more patch than skirt at this point."
His... His what now? Stan's eyes trail down to his legs, which are, in fact, covered by a white skirt with what looks like jeans peeking out from under it. Long curls spill over his shoulders, bouncing lightly at the disturbance. The wheeze he lets out sounds shrill.
Oh.
That can't be good.
***
And that's it! As a little note, Lee's name is supposed to be spelled Li since it's actually a Hebrew name, but the nurse wrote it down as Lee, and neither Caryn nor Filbrick bothered to correct it.
Posted this, like, a while ago on my Ao3, but decided to post here as well cause why not :P
Tags/warnings: Reverse Portal AU, angst, non (or not very) graphic torture, mentioned past Billford, some swearing, Weirdmageddon, mentioned transmasc Stan but it's not major
"-Soon may the wellerman come! And bring us sugar and tea and rum! One day when the tonguin' is done, we'll take our leave and-"
"Will you ever shut up?!" Bill shrieks, his voice shrill and completely, terrifyingly not human. Electricity crackles loudly, and Stan bites his cheek until the metallic taste of blood fills his mouth and settles heavily on his tongue. It doesn't even hurt.
But the electricity sure does.
"Nah, I think I'm good." When the pain subsides, he grins, though he's sure it looks more like a grimace. He can still feel the blood on his teeth. Gross. Not unusual, but still gross.
The smell of smoke, thick and dull, fills his nostrils and sticks to his lungs in a way that feels terribly familiar. He might be imagining the throbbing ache in his shoulder, but the stench of burnt flesh is real, and he exhales sharply at the sudden sensation. He hopes Bill doesn't notice.
He does.
"Oh? You didn't like that?" Bill sounds like his smirking, but he doesn't really have a mouth, so it's kind of hard to tell. Stan has a certain gesture he would like share with the fucker, but his right wrist is cuffed tightly to the floor, and his left prosthetic is... Somewhere. Bill took it away after Stan managed to lockpick the shackle that didn't have any locks to begin with. Spoilsport.
"Well-" But before Stan can finish, Bill snaps his fingers and the electricity comes alive again, sharp and wild, and holy shit, there's that smell again. A part of his brain - one that isn't busy dredging up old memories - registers that Bill isn't alone anymore. His eyesight was never that good to begin with, and losing his right eye to a certain triangular asshole definitely didn't help, but he could still recognize a few demonic faces among the crowd.
Pyronica, while admittedly hot (pun absolutely intended), was a bitch to deal with. No wonder the Periodic Table Dimension had a special police department dedicated specifically to fighting her. 8-Ball was pretty harmless, the guy was dumber than a bag of rocks, and that's coming from Stan. He did have one hell of a bite, though. Stan learned that the hard way. Keyhole was actually pretty cool. Too scared of Bill to really do anything, but Stan couldn't blame him for that. Kryptos was a charlatan, and not a good one. He tried conning Stan out of his money once and ended up stranded in the Mirror Dimension without a rallod to his name. What a loser. Stan only knew Zanthar, Teeth, and Paci-Fire by name. The rest of the bunch weren't familiar at all.
They were all laughing, still garishly loud even with the hearing loss in his left ear. Huh. One arm, one eye, and one ear? Wow, he is a mess. Chronic pain and missing teeth aren't making it better. He's pathetic.
The electricity stops abruptly.
"Well, as fun as that was, we still need him alive." Bill snaps his fingers and a neon purple cocktail appears in his hand. He squints his eye at his henchmen. "You have any other torture ideas?"
"Eat his legs while they're still on him!" Teeth snaps their teeth (haha) for emphasis.
"Send him to The Void for 48 hours straight." Jeez, Paci-Fire is kind of creepy.
"Set him on fire!" Unsurprisingy, Pyronica's idea.
"Break all of his bones!" Stan knew that Kryptos would hold a grudge, but that seemed a little excessive.
"Chop off his privates! I heard humans are very sensitive about that!" 8-Ball grins. Jokes on them, Stan doesn't have any more privates that can be chopped off. His tits were already taken out by a guy who he shared a prison cell in Colombia with. Ironically, he was in for medical malpractice. Cool guy.
"Mutilation." Zanthar isn't a creature of many words, huh? To be fair, they didn't seem to have any mouth, so that would make sense.
"Or," Stan chimes in, surprised when the whole gaggle of idiots actually quites down. "You could tell me why you're torturing me in the first place."
"You being a good-for-nothing nuisance isn't enough?" Bill's eye squints again, and Stan assumes that it means that he's smirking. Henchmaniacs laugh. Apparently laughing at your boss's unfunny jokes is an interdimensional experience.
"Usually it is, but I'm getting a feeling that there's something else that you want." He hopes they will let him talk. Let him stall. Let him get that faint spark of faith to grow into a disastrous forest fire. Let him stay alive until others (hopefully) figure something out.
"Even if there is, why would we tell you?" They're letting him talk. Good.
"Well, if I know what you're torturing me for, maybe I'll be able to actually help you out." Bill laughs in his face. Henchmaniacs join. Uh...
"Oh, you're a riot! You can't help me with something like that, Mackerel! You're not your brother!"
"Really? Wow! I didn't know!" Irritation seeps into Stan's voice, and he can't help but find it ironic how that is what does it for him. Being compared to his brother. How lame can he get? He groans. "Why am I the one being tortured then? Don't you, I don't know, need to find Ford or something?" He doesn't know why he's saying that. He doesn't want Ford to be here, to be tortured. Ford doesn’t deserve that.
Not like Stan does.
"Eager to sacrifice your brother, aren't we? Well, sorry to disappoint, but Sixer is currently... Unavailable. Even if we knew where he was, I'd still need him to cooperate. Which is why you're here!" Stanley snorts at the logic.
"You can't actually think that that's gonna work, can you? You can't that stupid!" Bill squints at him, though it feels different than his smirk-squint. It feels like he's frowning. Stan grins back at him. "Tell me, how long did it take him to decide to get me outta that portal?"
"...Thirty years?"
"Shut up, 8-Ball!" Bill pinches his... Area where his nose should be. "Your distractions aren't going to help you, you know!"
"Who said I'm trying to distract you?" He totally is, but that's besides the point. "I just wanna know why you're torturing me! I mean, I got that you want Ford to get his ass up and come here, but why? Unless you're just that desperate to get him back - which, not gonna happen, by the way - there's gotta be another reason!"
"I am not desperate!"
"Sure you aren't, buddy."
"You know what? Henchmaniacs, get out and go look for Sixer! Whoever gets him first can eat anyone they want from my throne!"
"Nice!"
"Alright!"
"Thanks, boss!"
As the posse of assorted demons starts pouring out of the triangular opening in the wall, Stan realizes that he may have fucked up. They were searching now. Searching for Ford. Fuck. Shit.
"Alright, Stanley Pines." Bill sounds deathly serious. Stan doesn't like that. "I'll tell you what I want."
"Okay? Thanks?"
"I'm stuck here!"
"Stuck?"
"Stuck! I can't leave this stupid town! It's like something is keeping me in, and I know for a fact that Ford knows what it is!" Stan does too. It's showtime.
"You mean the Natural Law of Weirdness Magnetism?" Bill perks up, and suddenly he's up close and personal, right next to Stan's face.
"You know what's keeping me in?" There is something tight and dangerous in Bill's voice, and it sends a shiver down Stan's spine. He forces himself not to flinch, as he pulls a desperate smile on his face.
"Sure do, pal. I may not be the smartest guy out there, but you can't not learn a thing or two while traveling the multiverse." He doesn't elaborate. Bill doesn't like that.
"And?!" He screeches, getting impossibly closer.
"And what?" Stan's playing dumb. He was always good at that. He just needs to keep stalling.
"What is it?!"
"I just told you! The Natural Law of Weirdness Magnetism!"
"And how do I make go away?!" Bill is bigger now, voice louder. Stan's ears are ringing and his head is buzzing. He almost forgets to answer.
"Well, there is an equation that totally breaks down the barrier, but..."
"But what?!" Bill turns red. Literally. Stan didn't know he could do that. He takes a deep breath and looks around conspicuously. Then, he leans forward, and...
"But I won't tell you," he whispers, with the smuggest grin he can muster.
Bill doesn't say anything, no. The noise he produces isn't like anything Stan has ever heard, and he's heard a lot of undescribably horrific noises in his lifetime. Kind of comes with traveling the multiverse for around thirty years. The sound Bill makes is by far the worst thing Stan has ever heard, though. There are voices in it, many of them, and every single one of them is screaming and begging - begging him - to do something, to help, but Stan doesn't know how to. He hears Ford's voice among others, but maybe he's just going insane.
Electricity returns. It doesn't even hurt.
But the voices that are getting progressively more persistent sure do.
Ford actually comes for him. Stan is more surprised by that than he would like to admit. He should be happy, but Ford - the dumbest genius in the entire multiverse - decides to get the kids involved. Doesn't he know how dangerous it is out here?! Doesn't he know how low their chances of survival are?! Doesn't he know-
"I have a plan." Ford sounds confident. It's not as reassuring as Stan wants it to be, especially considering that the plan apparently involves a can of spray paint and a bunch of theoreticals.
"What is that? World's most confusing game of hopscotch?" Stan snorts. He likes the little blondie. She's bold. He hopes she survives.
"It's a prophecy. Those are the symbols I found in a cave when I first discovered Bill's existence. Gravity Falls natives believed that this has the power to banish Bill from our dimension once and for all." Ford looks so hopeful that Stan almost feels bad about having to ruin it for him. The petty and tired side of him keeps chanting almost.
"I'm sorry disappoint," Stan's voice is shaking. Damn it. "But it's not going to work."
"And how do you know that?" Ford's glare is cold. Which, while not totally uncalled for, still stings a whole lot.
"Because if it was that simple, he would be in an interdimensional jail already. What, you think there is no one else in the multiverse that could fit those symbols? We're not that special, Ford."
"Uh, guys?"
"Well, do you have a better idea?" Ford hisses, voice streaked with venom.
"Dr. Pines?"
"I do have a better idea! Get out of here and never look back!"
"Grunkle Stan!"
"Of course you would say that! You've always been a coward!"
"Grunkle Ford!"
"How dare you-"
"Well, well, well, well, well! Who do we have here?!" Shit. Bill's back. And the kids are still here. Fuck.
"Bill." Ford mutters. The only thing Stan can manage is a wordless snarl.
"Whoa there, Sixer! Keep your dog at bay, will ya? Get him a collar or something!" Ford's face is the definition of rage, his teeth bared and his eyebrows knit together. The rest of the Circle Gang (and no, Stan will not be accepting any criticism on that name) looks surprisingly determined.
"I ain't no dog!" The growl that wraps around his every word would probably suggest otherwise, but Stan isn't taking any criticism on that either.
"Well, guess what? I think you still deserve a collar!" Then there's a chain around his neck again, and with growing horror he realizes that there's one on Ford's neck too.
"Hey! You give 'em back!" Ford's hillbilly friend sure has some nerve, considering the only weapon he has on him is a feeble old banjo.
"We're not scared of you!" Ford's lanky redhead assistant yells. Goddamnit, does anyone in this crazy town have any self preservation?!
"You've gone too far, Cipher!" Apparently not, because the tiny round child is ready to fight an interdimensional demonic entity with his tiny bare fists. Moses, everyone in this town is so stupid!
"Really? I don't think I've gone far enough!" With that, Hillbilly, Redhead, Round Child, Blondie, Mole Man, and Drama Queen Teenager are all in the air, eyes rolling in the back of their heads as their bodies twist and turn into woven tapestries. What a way to go out. "Now, isn't that better? Those really brighten the place up, don't you think?"
"No!" Dipper screams, so loud that his voice cracks. Mabel responds with a chocked gasp. Ford struggles against the tendrils wrapped around his body. Stan can't bring himself to try.
"I'm so glad you agree!" Bill snaps his fingers, and suddenly there is a cage around the kids, bright blue and shimmering lightly at the edges. It seems scarily similar to the chains around his neck. Around Ford's neck. Fuck.
"Shit. Kids!" Stan's collar feels painfully tight around his neck. Breathing is hard. Staying aware is harder. The world swims lazily in front of his eyes as he wills himself to make words instead of feral growls.
"Let them go, Cipher!" Ford grunts, still struggling against his bounds.
"If you tell me how to get out of this stupid place, I might consider!" Stan's attempts to not growl fail as he feels his throat tighten in a low rumble. Bill is such a fucking dick. There are no words in English language - or any language in the multiverse for that matter - to describe how much Stan hates the guy. Bill snickers. "Woah there, Mackerel! If you have something to say, you better use your words!"
"Leave them alone, you oversized dorito!" Mabel yells, hands clutching the flickering bars of her cage.
"Yeah!" Dipper joins her, knuckles white from how hard he's gripping the bars. Stan feels his breath hitch when Bill turns around to face the kids.
"Now, don't get too cocky, kiddos! You don't know what you're up against!" Bill's voice suddenly sounds a few octaves lower. "I can do anything! I know everything! I can see everythi- Ack!"
"Can you?" Mabel grins triumphantly, can of spray paint in hand, as Bill rubs his assaulted eye. Stan smirks. Take that, asshole!
"Good job, pumpkin!" Stan's bounds loosen around him. He hits the ground and scrambles to his feet, sore but finally free. Ford lands next to him with an undignified squawk. In front of them, Dipper holds up something that looks like a flashlight, and the cage starts inexplicably growing larger. It's Ford's turn to grin.
"Attaboy!"
"Stop sounding so proud! I just regenerated that eye!" Bill shrieks, eye still shut closed. Good.
"I know it hurts because I've accidentally done it to myself! Multiple times!" How Mabel manages to make it sound like a good thing is beyond Stan, but he can respect the optimism.
"Get out! We'll handle Bill!"
"Dipper-"
"We've done it before, we can do it again! Go!" Stan wants to grab the twins, grab Ford, and get as far away from the literal goddamn apocalypse as possible, but the bars of a newly created cage slam shut above him and Ford, and they're trapped once again. He wants to scream, but Ford is right next to him, so he settles for a frantic wheeze.
"Dipper! Mabel!" Ford screams, though, eyes wild with fear, as he watches the kids run off into the maze of hallways carved through their pyramidical tomb. Bill growls - who's the dog now, shithead? - and turns red again, now sprouting body parts Stan didn't know he could have.
"Forgive me for having to leave so soon, but I have some murdering to do!" Bill's voice is so low it shakes the floor of the fearamid, as he climbs into the hallway the twins passed through. Stan claws at the bars of the cage until he can't feel his fingers anymore. His lungs ache. He can't breathe. Ford drops to his knees, nails digging into the fabric at the sides of his coat.
"No... I-I can't do this. They are going to die," Ford stutters. "They are going to die and it's all my fault. I should've listened to you and just left."
"Don't blame yourself for that. You were trying to do the right thing."
"And now we're all going to die because of that!"
"Eh, to be fair we woulda probably died anyway. When Bill wants someone dead, he will have them dead. And he doesn't really likes any of us all that much." Stan slumps on the ground next to Ford as he pulls out a suspiciously-not-kid-friendly flask. Ford takes a swig of the mystery liquid.
"How did we let things get this bad?" Ford mutters, passing the flask to Stan. So it's vodka, then.
"I don't know." He really doesn't. He wish he did. Maybe then he could fix it. He passes the flask back to Ford. "Not much we can do about it now, is there?"
"Well, there is one thing..." Stan perks up involuntarily. "...but I don't know if it's going to work." And there is it.
"Do share. Maybe we can still work with it." Ford sighs and pulls a steampunk-looking gun from under his coat.
"This is a memory gun. My friend-"
"The hillbilly?" Stan interrupts.
"My friend," Ford continues, irritated. "Invented it. It erases memories."
"And how can it help us?"
"Bill is weak in the mindscape. If we could lure him into my mind, we could erase him just as easily as any other memory."
"Then what's the problem?"
"I used the Encrypter on myself. It... Well, it encrypts your thoughts. Turns into an unreadable code that cannot be cracked. I did it to protect myself from Bill, but I believe that it may work the same way on the memory gun, which means that it might not be possible to erase him from my mind."
"...We can let him into my mind. That should work, right?" Ford looks at him, seemingly terrified by the idea.
"No, Stan. No! I-" Ford chokes on his words. "I can't let you do that!"
"Ford, you literally just said that it's the only option we have."
"Well, yes, but no! You can't do that!"
"Ford, we have to. The asshole has to go."
"No!"
"Ford, we don't have time for this!"
"I can't lose you again!" Ford's face twists into a gut-wrenching expression of hurt. Stan isn't sure what to make of that.
"How would that make you lose me?" Ford makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a sniffle.
"To make sure that Bill is really gone, all the memories of his host must be erased. If you go through with this, there will be nothing left of you." This time, Ford actually sobs, and that, more than anything, makes Stan want to reconsider. But then, Bill appears, Dipper and Mabel gripped tightly in his oversized fist, and Stan realizes that it was never a choice to begin with.
"Alright, gentlemen, time's up! What do you say? If you don't answer, I might just kill one of the kiddos! Actually, how about I do that anyway! Eenie, meenie-" Bill's fingers pull together, preparing to snap. Stan won't let that happen.
"I wanna make a deal, Cipher!"
"Stanley, don't-" Ford's voice is frenzied and panicked. Stan almost feels bad.
"Oh? Really?" Bill relaxes his fingers, but still holds Dipper and Mabel tightly in his fist.
"Yes! Really!"
"Well, go on! What is it that you're offering?"
"I'm offering the equation in exchange for the safety of my family! You, nor anyone ever, is allowed to hurt them in any way!"
"That's something that can be arranged!" Bill finally lets the kids go as he lowers the bars of Stan and Ford's cage. Ford yelps as newly created cuffs on his wrists bind him tightly to the floor of the Fearamid. Stan frowns at Bill. "Oh, don't you worry about that, Mackerel! I'll let him go as soon as I'm done! So, how about that deal?"
"I don't remember the equation by heart, so you'll probably have to go into my mind."
"You say it like it's a bad thing! Now, shake my hand, will you?" Bill reaches his flaming hand towards Stan. He can vaguely hear Dipper's pleas to not accept, Mabel's panicked gasps, and Ford's quiet whimpers. Stan's hand trembles as he accepts.
"Alright. Here you go."
"It's a deal!" Bill cackles. He sounds so delighted. It's disgusting. Stan's glad the bastard isn't staying for too much longer. Good grief.
In a flash of light, Bill enters his mind, leaving behind a shell made of stone.
Having someone else in his mind felt weird. Having his brain set on fire felt weirder.
"You idiot! Don't you realize that you're going down too?!"
"Yeah, that's the plan."
"Let me out! Let me out!"
"Nah, I think I'm good."
"I can give you anything! Money! Fame! Your own galaxy!"
"Meh, galaxies are overrated." Bill screeches, word blurring into an incomprehensible mess. He might be speaking backwards, but it really doesn't matter now. He's burning. He's dying. Usually Stan would be concerned about how happy that makes him, but Bill deserves it. Fuck Bill.
Stan waits. It's only a matter of time before he burns as well, becomes the same ashes.
Maybe that's what he deserved, too.
Stan feels the fire on his ankles.
Stan closes his eyes.
Stan smiles.
At least he finally did something right, huh?
And that's it, hope you enjoyed :D
Woah, this is the biggest thing I've posted on Tumblr yet! I'm slowly figuring out how to format in here, it's a bit confusing.
Anyway, this is my take on the Reverse Portal AU, and if you have any questions, please do ask, I love this AU dearly. I should probably write more for it, but we'll see :)
