A new fic!
Hi hello! I've had this lying around for nearly 2 years now, and I just now had the time to tweak it and post it. Fic below the cut! AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/85099891/chapters/224702856
"Don't forget, there's no taking payment back!" The gnome called behind his stubby shoulder, quickly retreating into the brush. He smirked as he felt in his pockets for the sacks of fairy dust, and a small jar of tiny butterflies, who fluttered angrily against their glass confines.
The gnome hummed a small tune as he wandered deeper into the glade, periodically checking to see if he was being followed. Deeming it safe, he strutted to a clearing, an inconspicuous tree sitting in the middle. The gnome knocked on the bark in a specific pattern, and a small door swung open, revealing a compartment filled with various trinkets. To an unaided eye, or, an innocent mind not concerned with tiny gnome people, the items would be boring. If not a little odd this far out in the woods.
The gnome quickly piled the fairy dust sacks into the hole, keeping the butterfly jar on him. While fairy dust was rare and hard to come by, butterflies were more important to the gnomes. For nefarious reasoning. He stood back with his hands on his hips, chuckling at his collection.
"Fine collection you have there." The gnome let out an unholy shriek, flailing around, before whipping to look behind him. Two men towered over him, their faces obscured by the sun behind them. Both of similar stature. and when the gnome squinted, of similar physical appearance as well.
He backed up quickly, slamming the door shut, before squinting harder, trying to discern what the towering giants wanted from him. They wore matching scowls, one bearing a fist, with gold glinting from the knuckles. The other, the gnome realized with a jolt, was aiming a very scary object at him. "HAH! AH! What- What could I help you gentlemen with?" The gnome stuttered out, pressing firmly against the tree trunk.
The former, the one who spoke, cleared his throat before speaking. "We heard, praytell. about a.. portal. That only you know the whereabouts of. We require its location." The gnome broke into a sweat. Were these freaks from the Nature Law Enforcement Ministry? He thought he had ditched the feds months ago with his faked death! Regardless, they needed to be shaken off his tail. His stash was a lost cause by this point, but that was fine. He could always pick up more later.
The other man seemed to notice the train of thought the gnome was having, because he pressed closer to the exposed side, blocking the gnome against the tree. His expression told the gnome all he needed to know about his escape ideas. Try it and you'll regret it.
Next best plan then. Swindling. He was good at that. He could handle this. But before he could open his mouth, a thicker voice of deep gravel stopped him once again. "Try lyin and yer gonna lose that hat of yours." With a gasp of indignation the gnome gripped his hat, and scowled at the men. "What do you two want from me?! So what if there's a portal. I don't know nothing about no portal! And if I DID, I'd need to be paid for it!"
The first man flicked something on his object, and the nozzle of it glowed a bright blue, accompanied by a Shhhrring sound. "You'll tell us. And if you must have payment, it will end up being your life."
The gnome broke, sweat pouring down his back. "FINE! The stupid portal is down by the beach hidden in a cove! Don't think you can win any prizes by telling anyone though! I've already scammed this island for what it's worth!"
The object was shoved into his face, tip pressed against his nose. "We do not run amuck stealing from people." The second man made a noise inside his throat, suspiciously sounding like a snort. The first man sighed. "Not often. And not for monetary gain like you have been aiming for."
With that the first stepped back, quickly sliding the object into a casing around his waist. The gnome made his break then. Hissing, he sprinted away on all fours, leaving his stash behind for good.
There was a bit of silence, before the second man sighed. "Geez, Ford. Pay with your life? Cmon, it was just a gnome." The first man, Ford, rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Yes, Stanley. I am well aware of what creature he was. The size, hat and beard, and the temper were clear enough indicators. Not to mention the-"
Stanley snorted and punched Ford on the shoulder. "Yeah, okay. I get it, you're sooo educated in the world of gnomes." Ford scowled, but his expression softened once he realized Stan's tone carried only laughter, not the mirth he was once used to. He gave a quick smile, one side of his face lifting before it fell as he looked to the tree. He repeated the knock effortlessly, and observed the contents. They were typical for a gnome stash, but he pocketed fairy dust sacks anyway. Fairies were particular in who they gave dust to. And they weren't known for being generous to humans.
Stan watched from behind Ford, not super interested in the plundering of the stash. While treasure almost always interested him, it was overshadowed by the feeling of anxiety. It loomed behind him, as he ran what the gnome said through his mind. So what if there's a portal!
A portal. Stan and Ford had no good experience with portals of any kind. The thought of even seeing one again made Stan itchy, but on the inside of his skin. He knew Ford felt it too. Or, in a similar fashion. But Ford had insisted on finding the portal, explaining it could be a rift from Weirdmageddon, yet to be sealed. Or an evil wizard had found a way to tear into the universe. Ford had ignored Stanley's theory in turn of rolling his eyes and sighing. But it was a fond sigh. Stan liked to hope it was anyways.
"It's detrimental that we find out if this portal leads anywhere, or to another universe entirely." He had explained, walking with Stan through the forest village of so many cute critters it made his eyes water. If Mabel were here, he knew she'd be screaming enough to make Stan need another hearing aid. They had dodged through a crowd of sentient squirrels happily chatting away while doing their day chores. Whatever day chores a squirrel could possibly have, Stan wasn't sure. "If it is, we need to find a way to seal it. I wouldn't mind sending some sort of probe through it first.. Only for science of course. It's also critical to know what's on the other side-"
Ford navigated easily, not looking up from his journal as he rambled. His coat flailed around him as he stepped. Stan had a harder time avoiding the animals, pinning it to his incoming feeling of anxiety. A squirrel was nearly trampled as he side-stepped to avoid a raccoon with its paws full. Hands? Paw hands? Stan lost the thought as the squirrel had chattered at him, scolding him for his murder attempt no doubt. The entire island made Stan feel weird. The sentient woodland animals he could grasp. Gnomes too. Living in Gravity Falls for 30 years makes you adjust pretty quickly to the strange. But the feel of the island was off. Ford hadn't detected anything strange. Bad, strange. The entire island set off his radars and "Weird-o-meters", due to how much anomalous activity pulsed here. Stan had insisted on a rescan, and Ford obliged, if only to ease his brother's unnecessary concern.
Regardless, standing in the clearing staring at Ford's back, Stan felt another spike in anxiety at the thought of the portal. He didn't want to be anywhere near another portal for the rest of his life. Unfortunately, his brother seemed to attract these types of things. And wherever Ford went, Stan would follow. Even if it terrified him to do so.
Not that he would admit that! He was a street toughened crime lord, with no soft spots whatsoever. (His mind betrayed him with flashes of memory, of cuddling his nibbling after a storm, or taking care of Ford when he ate that stupidly absurd fish. "It's for science, Stanley!" Yeah. Right.)
He was happy to have them though. His memories, older and new. He could do without some of the worst ones. But the soft ones he kept under lock and key were more precious than any treasure he or Ford had plundered. Letting himself be lost in thought, he didn't notice Ford waving his hand in front of his face. His movement becoming a little quicker once he realized Stan wasn't looking at it. "Stan? Stanley? Are you here?"
Stan hated how Ford worded it. He knew Ford meant well, but "here" implied that he left. He never did. (He never tried to anyway.) It wasn't like he could control when his mind wandered. (Not that he blamed Ford either. He never would.)
"Yeah.. Yeah. Quit wavin' your hand in front of my face, you'll.. mess up my features." A weak comeback, and they both knew it. However Stan wasn't going to let Ford pry into it. He didn't want to drag his emotions out into the light.
Ford squinted, just slightly, before seeming to accept his answer at face value. He turned, gesturing to the hoard. "It's unlike you to not be all over these things. You're practically like a corvid, always wanting the shiniest piece you can dig up."
Stan came closer behind Ford, looking over his shoulder down into the ground. Ford turned his head slightly, his peripheral vision focused on Stan. To anyone else, this would be nothing. Stan didn't ignore how Ford's shoulders hunched inward, before slowly reclining, as his body realized it was only his brother. However, Ford kept a quick glance on Stan at all times. And Stan didn't blame him.
It made him angry, upset. But not at Ford. Never at his brother. More so on himself. If I hadn't shoved him into the stupid portal to begin with, he wouldn't be this way. So scared all the time. His thoughts muttered, and Stan felt a quick slice of hot shame race down his spine, leaving him to side step Ford completely, not noticing the way Ford's face subtly twitched, a twinge of fear flashing across it.
If Stan had put thought into it, he would've thought it weird, that Ford seemed so afraid for a split second. He continued forward to the tree, not paying much attention to his brother anymore at all. He was too lost in his own thoughts, swirling around in a twisted merry-go-round of anxiety and self-hatred. The shiny trinkets didn't slow the grate of his mental gears, turning overtime to further dig the trench of dread.
His eyes trailed over the various items; lost coins and gems, but not really seeing it. Now you're going to see another portal. What if the same thing happens again? Stan bit the inside of his cheek, a palm clenching involuntarily. I'd get him back. Plus he wouldn't be lost. He'd come back. He'd want to this time.
Ford cleared his throat, turning towards the beach once more. Stan followed, not even caring to pocket the treasures. "We'll head straight there, in case we need to get the other creatures of the forest away from it. There might be gravitational anomalies near it as well. We must approach cautiously. Perhaps with a rope tied around a tree nearby-"
Stan knew Ford was rambling to fill the physical silence. He was off put, maybe more than Stan had assumed. If Stan pushed, they might not have to go near it at all. But Stan shook that thought right off. Ford had seemed so excited, genuinely ready to approach the mystery of the island. And Stan wasn't going to deny him that happiness, even if it made Stan feel sick, and his eyes prickled at the onslaught of memories.
Besides; They were here to solve mysteries, weren't they? What adventurer would be scared of some dumb portal? He was a grown man, who had fought endless fights, even with the supernatural. Those zombies didn't beat themselves. And if he didn't go through with this..? What would the kids think? Would they think he wasn't able to handle himself? And Ford… What would Ford think? Would Ford realize Stan couldn't handle the sailing if he was too scared of one of the first major mysteries? Would Ford want to kick him off their boat? Would Ford leave? If he did, would he come back?
As they continued walking, Ford rushing to put words out, One thought on loop repeated in Stan's head. One question that kept striking him over and over, making his steps falter.
Would he?
》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》
The beach hit the shore with vigorous waves, filling the air with its salt and sound. Farther along the coast was a small inlet. Surrounded by rocks, the ocean couldn't quite reach there. Approaching slowly, Stan stayed behind Ford, ready to grab him in case anything went awry, however he was careful to stay in Ford's peripheral so he wouldn't get jumpy.
The beach seemed normal, but as they drew closer to the inlet, a shimmer of energy seemed to fill the air. Upon arrival, Ford had nodded, an excited glint to his eyes. "Yes. This is a portal for certain. In my multidimensional travels, other rips in the fabric of time and space hold the same flare. The same energy courses through the air, or what is similar."
"Uh huh," Stan mumbled, eyeing the rocks nervously. The sound of the waves crashing into the rocks behind them wasn't loud enough to drown out the dread Stan felt. "Stanley? Are you feeling alright?" Ford had turned to look at him fully, a frown on his face.
Stan quickly corrected his slouch, attempting to shrug off the shadows of doubt. "Of course I am! Why wouldn't I be? After all, I'm here, with you!" He gave a grin, worried it wasn't wide enough. It seemed to ease Ford enough however, because after he looked Stan up and down, his frown quirked into a smile. "Yes yes, I like spending time with you too, Stanley."
Stan heaved an inward sigh. Ford had taken it as a compliment, which worked out, he supposed. And he did mean it. Stan would never lie to Ford about things like that.
But you'd lie to him about how you feel if it's negative? His inner thoughts whispered. Yeah. He would. It's only to protect him. Plus being so emotional could make Ford view him as clingy. And Stan did NOT want to be clingy. (Even if he was flighty when Ford was out of his sight for just too long. Even if, sometimes, after a nightmare, Stan would come close to waking Ford up, just to convince himself it was all still real.)
"I'd say we're ready to explore within!" And just like that, all the thoughts stopped. Stan sputtered, blinking and realizing Ford had already tied his weird, sci-fi "infinity belt" to a boulder nearby, and had an expectant smile on his face. "Wha? Aren't we just- Goin to, you know. Poke at it with your weird-magigs? We're going IN IT??"
Ford tilted his head, his smile falling slightly. "Stanley, I already did all that. I know my educational ramblings can be a bit much for you at times, but weren't you paying attention at all? Are you sure you're alright? You're not having an episode are you?" Ford reached a hand out to Stan, attempting to feel his forehead.
Stan couldn't handle the worried glint in his brother's eyes, and smacked Ford's hand away from his face. (Even if he wanted to accept the caring touch.) "Yeesh! I'm fine. Memories all there, n' whatever. I just, thought we would be.. I dunno. Seeing it?"
His brother pursed his lips, before turning back to the rocks. "Alright… Well. We have seen it. The entrance of it. It would be far more detrimental to also investigate inside of it, where it leads to. My.. weirdmagigs as you call it detect nothing malicious of the sort. And taking into account the portal has been open for a good while, I'd say it is steady. Meaning it won't close suddenly! This is the perfect opportunity for us. And for science!"
In a final attempt to seem unbothered, Stan took up the belt and tied it around his waist. "Fine! Fine. But if we get, abducted or somethin I'm blaming you."
Ford snorted, rolling his eyes fondly. "I assure you, Stanley. Almost all matter of alien lifeforms are actually quite friendly! There are a few species of course that aren't, but if we did happen to come across some, I'd say we're well prepared." His coat caught in the wind, showcasing his holster. If Stan believed in a higher power, he'd have assumed they were trying to prove a point.
Ford brought them closer to the rocks, and the energy thrummed harder. Stan put that down as the reason he was struggling to breathe correctly. Within a small alcove between all the rocks, laid a shimmering circle of blue. Oh, it just HAD to be blue, didn't it? That higher power must've been having a big laugh.
"Now I'll go through first, obviously, and when I give a tug, you can come on through with me. I'll be on the other side waiting."
Stan looked up from the portal, glancing to Ford. Ford was illuminated by the light, with the sea's breeze ruffling his hair. He had a cheery expression, but that couldn't be farther from what Stan saw.
"STANLEY! DO SOMETHING! STANLEY!"
Ford wasn't standing in front of him anymore. He was being ripped away, all over again. The wild look in his eyes turning into pure fear, as he cried out to his brother, who was helpless to do anything but watch. The shout reverberated through Stan's head, making him stumble. He remembered how tired he had been that day. How hungry, and how much his body had ached. But nothing. Nothing had hurt more than seeing Ford disappear, screaming for him.
"STANLEY! STANLEY! STANLE-"
"-ly! Stanley! Are you- Why are you hyperventilating? What's wrong?"
Ford. The real, present day Ford was standing in front of him, hands gripping his shoulders. Stan took a sudden gulp of air, breaking free of the horrific flashback. He couldn't ignore the sudden wetness in his eyes. Neither could Ford. "Stan.. are you crying..?" "Psh. Hah.. N-no- Seawater got in my eyes! Now let's do your stupid portal thing so we can leave!" Stan tried to worm out of Ford's grasp, but having an extra finger seemed to make it stronger. "Stanley, I really think we should talk about what's bothering yo-"
"Nothin’s bothering me! Can we please just- get this done so we can leave this freak island? All the cuteness is getting to me, okay? The uh. Animals. They're freaky."
Ford narrowed his eyes, but let a breath out through his nose before letting Stan's shoulders go. "Very well. I'm- Frustrated, not at you! Just, I thought we'd communicate better. However I, guess I'll trust your word. We can investigate, then leave promptly. And if you say you're fine, I'll believe it."
The shame and guilt of lying to his brother made the heat stuck under his skin burn even fiercer. Yet he couldn't take it back now, as Ford quickly turned, cloak swishing. "Remember. One tug, you're alright to come in. Anything else means I'm coming back through." And with that, Ford stepped upon a rock, and easily jumped into the portal. It enveloped him readily, his entire body disappearing within a second.
Stan's heart beat against his ribcage as he stared at the whirling mass. The waiting for that tug felt like years. He was so focused on the portal that he nearly missed the feeling of the belt tugging around his waist. Stepping forward, he slammed his eyes shut, not wanting to see himself falling into nothingness. As he fell through, the humming grew louder, pounding his skull from the inside. His skin felt pulled, taut across his body, and his breathing-
He landed with a hard thud, momentarily losing his already short breath. The sound of the shore was gone, but the humming remained. Gentle now, like a purr, instead of a thundering pulse. His back was pressed into what felt like grass, and he cracked an eye open.
Surrounding him was a field of white, with hundreds of bouncing objects. They looked like.. cotton balls, drifting in the wind. They were the size of a baseball, each varying in color. Stan assumed they were some type of bug, based on their body stature. But he wasn't the scientist, or the cryptozoologist here. The puffballs occasionally drifted off on a breeze, into the lavender colored sky. Everything seemed calm, if not a little different. Straight out of a nature documentary right before some lion attacks and intense music blares through the speakers.
The only sound that was really blaring, was Ford's hyperactive rambling. "Stanley! Look at this! I've never seen anything quite like this place! These little creatures are an entirely new species! Never documented by humans! Look at how docile they are!" He shoved his hands into Stan's face, and Stan blearily tried to focus on what he held in front of him.
Within the cup of Ford's palms sat three of the puffball creatures. He was right about them being docile at least, as they didn't seem nervous at all. Each creature possessed a set of fly-like wings, and four eyes on the front of their faces. They fluttered, observing Stan right back. "This reminds me of a dimension I visited in my first year of falling into the portal! It was similar, but the creatures that inhabited it weren't this fluffy, or this cute!"
Stan barely heard him past the pounding inside his head, and within his chest. Breaths didn't seem to be coming correctly. "A-ah. Uh. Ford? Are ya sure we can yanno. Breathe here?"
There had to be a reason that he couldn't breathe. It must've been the stupid planet or, wherever this was. He couldn't be that anxious-
"Oh, of course! I don't have much evidence to draw a study conclusion from, but based on the similarities between here and the dimension I mentioned earlier, both have substantial amounts of O2 in the atmosphere. I didn't know that when I appeared in Cal-q34 though! I was quite afraid myself." Ford admits, his gaze seeming to focus on something in the horizon.
"I could barely control my panic! And thinking I was running out of oxygen made it worse!" Then he chuckled. He laughed like it was funny. Like it had amused him. Stan's mind hitched on horrifying images of the scenario Ford's words had painted.
Young, paranoid, how many scars did he have at that point? Had he been injured? The picture of Ford's face in a panic as he fought for his life, breaths heavy and wheezing.. And here, he was thinking it was something to laugh over. Like a childhood mishap story-
Luckily a puffball chose that moment to make a shrill sound, before a few of the surrounding ones quickly darted into the breeze. The sound knocked Stan out of his reverie, and Ford seemed a little surprised as well. "Fascinating! An alarm call? Or maybe a call to the time? I wonder if they use the call to signal when it's time to feed, or-" Fast scribbling filled the silence, and Stan could barely see Ford's figure as he tromped after some puffballs, happily chattering away. Like nothing was wrong.
The atmosphere had to be thin. There was no other explanation for his short breaths. But if Ford said they were okay-
He hasn't run any proper tests. He's just assuming. he told you so.
Yet despite the thought, Stan's age-old instinct of trusting his twin won out, and he knew Ford had to be right. So he had to admit to himself, the only cause for the panic he felt rising like the tide within him, was the anxiety he was trying to deny existed.
He tried to stand, but fell on his knees, hands curling into the strange white grass. His knuckles were fading in and out of his sight, as he fought for another breath. This wasn't right. They shouldn't have ever entered this stupid place. And now Ford was reliving his worst possible days. Laughing it off as a joke-
Creatures bonked into him aimlessly, unbothered at the obstacle blocking their way. Haggard breathing filled the air, as Stan struggled to take any in. His eyes focused on nothing, his mind feeding him an endless stream of dark thoughts and horrifying images of his brother, hurt, struggling, almost dying-
He barely registered the touch on his shoulder, collapsing into the ground, not hearing the panicked voice from Ford. Unhearing everything except the final screams of his brother on repeat as he got sucked into Hell again and AGAIN- "Stanley! You need to breathe! You can't keep panicking! You're going to pass out! Stan? Stan!"
He was pushed onto his back, Ford leaning over him. In any other circumstance, this would've made it worse. However, seeing Ford so close helped him regain some awareness. He took a singular shuddering breath, his lungs aching for relief. "Okay. That's it. C'mon. You're okay. Whatever it is, we can fix it. Okay? Did you get bit by one of the fluffs? Are you having an allergic reaction to it? are-"
Stan shook his head at the questioning, his mouth open in an attempt to speak. Ford stopped asking questions once he realized Stan couldn't speak. "Alright alright alright… Just… Breathe. I can fix it whatever it is, okay?"
Stan wasn't so sure of that, but he appreciated Ford trying. He was trying, and it was such a difference from before. The thought let him take another breath, trying to mimic Ford's deeper ones. He closed his eyes, trying to soothe the pounding in his head, but Ford annoyingly tapped his cheek. "Apologies, but I can't let you retreat back into yourself, you need to ease your heart rate before you send yourself into cardiac arrest.”
Stan thought this was a sore attempt at humor, but re-opening his eyes showed Ford meant it. Regardless, he tried again, breathing slowly beginning to normal.
They sat in relative silence in the field, Ford not saying a word as he observed his brother. His face was unreadable to Stan in that moment, he was too focused on trying to force his lungs to inflate. Eventually the puffballs had all vanished from around them. The only sound was the whooshing sound of grass, the wind playing with their hair.
It had to have been at least 10 minutes later before Stan felt enough air in his lungs to speak. "Sorry." He hoped Ford would understand what he meant.
Ford's face morphed from concern to tired relief at Stan's voice. "Don't apologize. You haven't done anything wrong. Can you tell me what happened? I turned to ask you something and- You were gone." He gave a quick side glance at this, emotion flickering across his face that Stan couldn't decipher right now. He let his head fall back to the ground, feeling the dredges of adrenaline slowly peter out.
"I.. just.. can't stand it. This. You." Plowing through Ford's little eep of pain Stan elaborated. "Not- Not You you. Just.. Hearing about the other side and how it almost killed you so many times." He broke off, not wanting to continue.
"You're meaning my retelling of dimension Cal-q34, correct?" Ford questioned, carefully sitting back on his heels, looking down at Stan for confirmation. At his jerky nod he sighed. "That was one of my better times, I didn't think you would be so bothered about it."
Stan grit his teeth, a surge of frustration washing over him now that he had been seen so vulnerable over something so stupid. "Yeah? Well, surprise. Turns out hearin about all the awful ways you almost died or were scared wouldn't be somethin to laugh off!"
Ford's eyebrows raised before his face turned into a scowl, a familiar sight to Stan, yet the tiny ball of anxiety still inside him grew at the anger he exhibited.
Stop it. Stop fighting, just tell him what's actually wrong. You snapping won't help.
"Actually, I believe I'd know what reaction is warranted, as it was My experience!" Ford returned. "I didn't believe you would react in such a manner-"
"Manner? What the fuck is that supposed ta mean?
Stop pushing him. Stop lashing out because you're afraid. Unfortunately, that was the only thing both brothers knew how to do. They hadn't quite learnt how to communicate otherwise.
"What it means is you're being immature! Honestly Stanley, I would have thought that you would be able to communicate and not resort to childish squabbling whenever you hear something you might not like!" Ford's retort came out in a huff, him standing up swiftly, glaring down at Stan.
The feeling of Ford looming over him, anger coming in waves, made the little ball of anxiety bloom into a full bouquet of Freak-the-fuck-OUT-flowers. Stan scrambled up, nearly falling once again as his ankle buckled. Ford's expression wavered, worry flitting across it, which quickly changed back to irritation at Stan's reply.
"M not childish! No one would want to hear about how their twin got mutilated! Or beaten, or-"
A scoff ended his rebuke. "Oh I've been mutilated have I? Last I observed, I'm not the one with an abundance of fake or missing parts. Regardless of that, I knew I shouldn't have told you anything. You always react like this.”
Stan felt his jaw drop at the mention of his body's issues. It wasn't the fact that he was missing them so much, more due to the reason why he was missing them. All his teeth, some organs he couldn't even remember at the moment, and countless nights of no sleep due to the nightmares. That didn't hurt nearly as bad as hearing the next part of what Ford spat at him.
When Stanley got hurt, he reacted without thinking. It had saved his hide so many times, he never could quite get rid of the habit. He felt it rising, but couldn't hold back. This habit laced his words with venom, aimed to redirect the attention from him, to his brother.
"I don't want ta hear about how much you suffered! How awful it was for you every day! Yanno, the mental image of you gasping for breath doesn't really inspire the giggles in me!"
Ford glowered, tightening his shoulders around his ears.
"It was not awful every day! As a matter of fact, I quite enjoyed much of my time there! It had so many unimaginable possibilities, things you could not possibly begin to grasp! And you know what? I loved it in many of those places! There was always something new to do or see. People that actually liked me there! Until you had to bring me back at the worst time! There was so much for me out there, and nothing here. and I- I WISH I'D NEVER COME BACK AT ALL!"
The air fell silent, not even fluffballs and their chattering. Ford panted, his outburst taking more out of him than he realized. Stan's world had stopped, the only thing moving in color and sound were Ford's blazing eyes, and his shouts reverberated in his ears.
He never wanted to come back. He said there was nothing for him on Earth. You ruined his happiness all over again. He never wanted to come Back.
It took a few seconds for Ford to calm, seemingly just then seeing the weight of what he had said, looking at the expression on his brother's face.
His anger drained quickly, regret filling his face. But Stan saw none of it. He drew backwards, his steps faltering, before he turned completely and ran, sprinting away from the suffocating air.
His breaths came ragged, his lungs screaming at the abuse. He didn't hear Ford's shouts, nor his apologies on the wind. He was deaf to everything except the looping thought.
He didn't want to come back.
Stan ran, somehow dodging every fluffball in the way. They scattered around him as he blew past, unbothered by his stampede.
Finally, Stan's lungs gave in, and he tripped at their lurch. He slammed into the ground for the third time that day. He didn't try to calm down, instead curling into himself, his choppy breaths becoming sobs. He felt disconnected from his body, unfeeling. The blades of grass didn't poke into him. His joints didn't stretch in protest. His eyes didn't burn. Everything faded into a black static, with Stan caught in the very middle of it.
Due to the prior attack, his lungs barely handled his next one. His survival instinct kicked in, making Stan calm his breathing against his will. He uncurled slowly, the feeling of the cold ground seeping in through his clothing. He didn't react to Ford's heavy footfalls, his running apparent. He didn't have any energy left to fight Ford, let alone face him at all.
"STANLEY! Stanley?! Oh, stars. Stanley. I'm…" Ford didn't finish, finally appearing in Stan's little hidden clearing, panting. However, not from the physical activity. Stan knew his brother wasn't winded from such a short jog.
Stan simply stayed facing away from Ford, hoping he didn't look as pathetic as he felt. There was shuffling, and he felt a thump on the ground. Ford sat behind him, close enough to reach out a hand. But he didn't. Stan sighed inwardly, he didn't think he could handle being touched right now. Especially not from Ford.
"What I said, it's not…. quite the truth." With no reaction from Stan, Ford continued, shifting his eyes to the side. "I, well. Of course there was much I loved on the other side of the portal. I did spend the better half of my life there."
At a hitch of Stan's breath Ford reiterated. "And that isn't a bad thing! It's good I found things to enjoy, otherwise I would've been unhappy. Unhappier than I already was of course-"
Stan curled in tighter, his face to his chest, trying to physically block out the hurt the words were bringing him. Ford sighed, going silent. It was a good few minutes before he spoke again, slowly. "Stanley.. There was much I liked, and that is a good thing. But, you know you're right. There was plenty that scared me. Every day felt like a gamble for my life. And, I was never the gambler out of the two of us.. "
A weak chuckle, the joke not quite landing with Stan. He was too tired to even manage a scoff. At the silence, Ford cleared his throat before continuing.
"I truly didn't wish to come back, at the time. My focus was on survival, and finally killing Bill. I had no one, or anything to return to. Fiddleford would have moved on, our family would have been long deceased. You… You would've finally left me behind to face my own consequences. For once."
A very gentle grace of a touch on his shoulder, and Stan felt his body lean into the touch. Traitor. The palm was grounding, and warm, letting Stan comprehend Ford a little easier. At not being shoved away, Ford splayed his palm, his large hand encompassing Stan's shoulder easily. His skin was cold to the touch, and Ford made a small sound of discontent.
"You proved me wrong. You seem to have a very good habit of doing so. I was wrong. I- I am wrong, Stan. I wish I hadn't come back before, well.. everything. But not because of you. Because I was too absorbed in my own reality. I thought my life's purpose was to defeat Bill, be the hero.. And I didn't feel I could do it from our home dimension. Not to mention the sudden mortal fear of endangering my family. Endangering you all over again."
Ford shifted closer, his voice laced with raw emotion. He was being truthful, despite how hard the pill was to swallow. Stan let his body lean against Ford's legs, unable to keep himself propped on his side any longer.
"I wish I hadn't come back because coming back meant hurting you, and possibly being the reason for your fate, and it.. most likely being a negative one. I didn't think hearing of the portal would scare you so badly.."
"It didn't." Stan's voice cut through them, faltering before he kept going.
"Not.. really. It was... Hearin how you jus shrugged it all off. How you acted like it wasn't terrifying, or… So deadly."
"Oh, Stanley.. I'm- Sorry. I didn't know you were so fearful. Although in hindsight I can definitely see why you were.. why you are."
Stan didn’t blink for a few moments, the memory that had tarnished the day once again flashing before his eyes. He opened his jaw a bit, doing his best to make his mouth moist once more to speak. His anxiety had made him terribly thirsty. Or the tears. It was probably both, at this point. Finally, he spoke once more.
"M.. not really. Scared of hearing about the bad times. Not too much anymore. ‘M more scared that.. you seemed so excited to go through another portal, after everything. And I.."
Stan's abused lungs hitched once again, the ever-present image burned into more than his eyes. His brother's six fingered hand stretched so wide the portal's light was shining through the webbing of his fingers. The weight of that stupid journal in his hands, the only thing he was able to grab. The scent of burnt hair, of burnt skin-
"All I could see was you falling, and all I could hear was your screams for help-"
At Stan's voice breaking Ford bit the bullet and hefted him up, resting Stan against his legs on his back, his head in his lap. "I'm so sorry Stan.. I didn't know…"
"For bein a genius there sure isn't a lot you know at all." Stan whispered, rubbing at his eyes. Silence laid thick on the brothers as they contemplated their next words. Ford spoke first.
"I wasn't afraid this time because you were here."
Stan stopped his rubbing, blinking up at his brother's face. Ford looked away, both men avoiding each other’s eyes. At the silence Ford glanced back, before sighing again. "You would be correct in assuming I do not handle portals entirely the best. Passing through them is somewhat a second nature, but it never quite got rid of the uncertainty, and paranoia of death being quite literally the next step forward.”
“But, well. I didn't feel that way this time because I had you, Stanley. I wasn't going to be alone this time. And yes, I had what you could call… friends. But I never could place myself entirely in their hands. Even now, with our bond slowly mending, I can fully trust you. You've proved yourself to me, so many times. Even before the fearamid. I just didn't see it before then.."
"S'kay. You weren't outta yer asshole arc yet." Ford gave a tired if not small smirk, raising an eyebrow at Stan's reply. "Once again, you're right. Don't let it go to your head however." Stan felt a gentle flick on the side of his temple, and he gave an exhausted huff of amusement.
"I knew you'd be with me, and that we'd be safe together. Because we have each other now. Back then, I didn't have you to watch my back. Now that I do, I can safely say I charge into new situations a little unprepared. Especially when it comes to knowing your emotional thresholds. I shouldn't have brought you here with me before I considered just how a portal would make you feel. I'm sorry. Again."
Stan sat up, barely avoiding knocking into Ford's chin. He turned quickly though, grabbing Ford into a hug. Startled, but quickly accepting it, Ford recuperated. He wrapped his arms fully around Stan's shoulders, trying to transmit warmth and comfort. There was a few seconds of awkward fumbling, Ford unsure of where to place his hands. They settled on Stan’s shoulder blades, splayed out once more to transmit warmth.
They sat on the ground a few seconds more, before Ford spoke. He took his head away from Stan’s temple, turning so he could be heard unmuffled. "I'm assuming I'm forgiven..?"
A thunk of a sound was heard then, as Stan flicked Ford's head, the metal plate making his finger smart. "Ow! Shit, Ford. S'not fair you have that thing in there. How am I supposed to keep that big head of yours in check if I can't correct it with flicks?"
"You could try actually communicating with me?" Came the dry response over his shoulder as Ford snorted. "Nah, doesn't work the same. Plus, you don't listen."
Ford pulled back, holding Stan by his shoulders. "I mean it though. You need to communicate with me. And not by way of long speeches. A simple 'Ford we need to go' would do, then you can tell me why you feel the way you do-"
Stan rolled his eyes, but knew Ford was right. "Yeah, yeah okay. But, that means you too! If we're gonna force me to be a sappy old man who exposes his feelin’s and junk you're comin’ down with me!"
Ford gave a heavy sigh, before pulling them both to their feet, keeping a hand on Stan's shoulder to steady him. Now fully empty of adrenaline and panic, Stan's body succumbed to feeling cold and exhausted, and Stan secretly thanked Ford for helping him stand. He didn't think he could do it otherwise.
And then Stan thought about what Ford had said, and then did thank him. "Thanks, Ford… Mean it too."
"Yes, well. I've learned from someone that being a good brother has its perks. Such as you cooking, handing me new pens when mine runs out of ink…"
At the slightly dejected look on Stan's face Ford fondly rolled his eyes, and squeezed his shoulder. "Oh, yes. And you being happy. That's at the top of the list."
His face lifted slightly at this, and Stan let himself lean on Ford as they slowly retraced their steps back, the infinity belt making it easy.
"I agree as well. To your…. request." Ford pointedly avoided the word deal, and Stan didn't mind at all. "I will try to be more open, and think of my word choice before spitting them out. If I don't, I run the risk of hurting you. And… I don't want to hurt you."
Stan nodded sleepily, his body slowing down as a soft blue light grew on the horizon. "Don't wanna hurt you either." He mumbled, shuffling after Ford's easier steps.
"Then we have an understanding." Ford smiled, as they finally reached the portal once more. "Ready to go home?"
Stan couldn't agree quickly enough.