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alextwdgf01 · 2 years

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The Restoration Of Eroded Soils- Chapter 8

The Final Match

6,942 words

Stanford grumbled to himself as he collected his dirty clothes from his room, throwing them into the laundry basket held under his right arm. He'd been left home alone for the first time since Stanley had arrived to help him. Said brother was currently at his job (which he'd yet to disclose what exactly he did) and Arthuria was over at Fiddleford's apartment fixing her stolen snow mobile (and how in the world had she managed to steal it, he doesn't know).

It hadn't quite bothered him so much at first, but his blasted hormones had him feeling lonely and abandoned. To top that off, he had also started getting paranoid and anxious at the thought of Bill. He worried how he could very easily attack his brother and his friend with them outside to magical barrier. How he could harm or kill them, or worse. Posses them.

And even if Bill left them alone, Ford himself was still open to being attacked by him. He could make a deal with someone and have them tear down the barrier when no one was looking and posses them. He could get in and attack him, try to force him to finish the portal. He could hurt him, hurt his brother's friend, hurt Stanley, hurttheba-

Anyways, Stanford needed to find something around the house to keep himself busy and his mind from spiraling. He'd read through an old book he'd checked out from the library forever ago (which he really needed to return), cooked (burnt) himself some lunch, and when he couldn't find anything better, decided to do laundry.

He always hated the chore. I mean, he wasn't a dirty guy. He liked his clothes clean and neat, as well as his chin and hair. But Ford found it boring and a waste of time. Why do laundry when you could write a thesis?

Well, he couldn't complain a whole lot though. It was keeping his mind off things.

Picking up his last dirty shirt, the six fingered scientist made his way downstairs to the utility room. However, as he passed by the entry way to the living room, he noticed Stan had left a pile of his clothes by the couch. Figures.

Stanford sighed. He thought he might as well throw in his brother's clothes with the load of his. Stan didn't have that many to start with, so he would probably be needing to wash them soon anyways.

He walked over and crouched down by the pile, picking them up. As Ford picked up his jacket, he noticed something crinkling in the pocket like a piece of paper. Curious, he stuck his hand into said pocket and produced what appeared to be a folded up flyer.

"What is this?" Ford asked himself as he began unfolding it.

It was an advertisement for a boxing tournament in a nearby town. And from the looks of it, it was illegal. Why would Stan have this?

His hands trembled as he tried to make heads or tails of what the piece of paper in his hands meant.

Maybe he was planning to go watch a match? His brother had liked boxing a lot in high school, both watching and participating. But he wouldn't engage in such bloodsports. Not now, at least. He wasn't living on the streets anymore and he had a job. He wouldn't have any reason to-

Stanford's internal rambling cut off when he thought back to a few days prior, the day his twin had returned concussed and covered in bruises.

Stan had brushed it off as being the result of a bad run in with some drunks. Arthuria had confirmed it, but what if she had been in on the lie?…They were old friends and Ford wouldn't put it pass them to lie to him. He was an outsider to them. Or at least, to their friendship.

So if the attack had been a lie, a cover up, then Stan’s injuries must have come from..!

Crushing the piece of paper in his hands, he exited the living room and ran into the kitchen as fast as he could to use the phone. It made sense. Especially after the fact of him being "attacked," that he'd cut his mullet off, quite messily he might add. Likely to prevent it from being grabbed.

He needed to get to the bottom of this. In order to do that, he needed to speak with Stan. But…

Ford found himself pausing up, hand held out towards the house phone. Where exactly was he going to call? Stan didn't have a phone and he had no idea where he would even be. The next match wouldn't be until 9 tonight.

And even if he somehow managed to reach him, how would he drive there? He no longer had a car thanks to Steve. The only other person who had a form of transportation was… Arthuria!

He grabbed the phone and tapped in the number of Fiddleford where the ginger women had said she would be to repair her snow mobile. He dreaded talking to his friend and feared he would hang up on him, but he at least had to try. Maybe he could speak fast enough to get him to put Arthuria on the phone.

He had to try.

Ring.

Ri-

"Fiddleford Mcgucket speaking."

"Fiddleford!" Ford cried out, thankful he'd picked up. "Look, please don't hang up! I need to speak with Arthuria immediately, it's urgent."

"S-Stanferd? I-uh-hold on a moment." the other end went silent for a painstakingly short while before another voice spoke.

"Hey." Arthuria answered.

"Arthuria, do-do you happen to know where Stan is?"

There was a silence at the end of the line before she answered carefully. “Is he not at his job..?”

Stanford sighed. She was obviously covering for him. He didn’t blame her. He would have probably done the same under the similar circumstances. But right now he didn’t want that answer. He wanted the truth.

“I found the flyer.”

"…I told him he needed to tell you." Arthuria sighed, likely shaking her head.

"He should have, yes, but I'm not concerned with that right now. I must talk to him immediately."

"Stan's at the gym practicing right now. He should be back soon." she said, giving Ford a bit of reassurance.

It did the trick, as some of the tension building in his shoulders eased up, causing them to drop a few inches. He took a few shuddering breath to calm down, but his worries didn’t disappear. He still had some things to discuss with his twin as soon as he was back from his “job”.

He nodded m, even if Arthuria couldn’t see anything. “Thank you… for telling me…”

“Yeah…and Stanford? Be careful with what you say to him. He… he meant well.” She added before hanging up.

The pregnant scientist sat in silence for a while after placing the phone back on the reciever. Arthuria said he meant well in what he was doing. But what purpose could Stan have for dealing in underground fights? For the money? Why couldn’t he just get a job like he lied about having?

He took a moment to breathe, calming his racing mind. Ford had to discuss this with Stan when he returned from the gym. He couldn't let it devolve into an argument and destroy the progress they've made in reconciling.

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"~Doo da doo, drivin' back to my brother's house, lyin' 'bout where I've been.~" Stan sang to himself as he drove down the winding gravel road.

Tonight was the final fight, the fight that could set his brother up for months. It had taken a lot to get to this point, putting his body through the ringer. Literally. But it was all gonna be worth it in the end. As long as it would help Ford.

Because that’s the only thing he was good at, wasn’t it? Anything for his brother and his brother alone. The rest didn’t matter. Even if he lost a limb or got hurt, it wasn't important. He wasn't important.

His brother was.

He pulled over, turned the engine off, and got out of the car. Stan gave himself a moment to take a deep breath and get his lie sorted out before he headed inside. He had just spent the day at his job and was returning to Ford's house, he did not spend the day at the gym prepping for the final match tonight.

Getting out of his car, he made his way up to the steps and to the front door, pulling it open. After shutting it back behind him, he heard footsteps coming from the direction of the kitchen. Probably Ford.

Sure enough, his brother was the cause of the noise, pacing back and forth by the counter, looking deep in thought. It wasn't an uncommon sight to Stan, but the worried expression he wore was.

Ford looked up at him, seeming to finally notice he'd appeared.

The elder twin stared at Stan for a long time. His eyes darting every where but his face to avoid eye contact, but landing on each and every bruise that was still visible on him. The many expression that crossed Stanford’s face weren’t hard to guess.

Stan could plainly see that his brother was worried, angry, and sad all at the same time. He sighed and braced himself.

“Hey, what’s the word Sixer?” He tried casually.

Ford didn't say anything, just took a deep breath and stuck a hand into the breast pocket of his trenchcoat and pulled out a familiar crumpled up flyer. Stan gulped.

"Stanley." Ford said sternly, yet softly. "Could you please explain this to me."

This wasn’t gonna end well, he thought.

"Well, it's a boxing flyer…" Stan offered, trying to play dumb.

Ford rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatedly. “I can see that. What I want to know is why was this flyer in your jacket pocket?”

Stan tried a different approach. “Why were you snooping into my stuff?”

“Don’t change the subject!” Ford said loudly before mumbling. “I just wanted to do the laundry.”

This was his last card to pull. "Look, I just thought it'd be fun to go watch. A way to blow off some steam and-"

"No, Stanley. Stop lying." Ford was beginning to lose his patience. "I know you have been participating in it."

"I have no-"

"The night of the third match, right after it had ended you came back here covered in bruises and sporting a concussion!"

Damn it.

He was backed against the wall. He stared at his brother and a shiver ran down his spine.

This was too familiar. This situation, all of this. The crumpled piece of paper in Ford’s hand, the look of anger and disappointment in his eyes and the way he was confronting him about something he had kept hidden from him.

No! No, no, no, no! This was not gonna be a repeat of last time!

He tried to convince himself, but he couldn’t help feeling ashamed. Had he let his brother down? Again?

His breathing was becoming shallow. “I told you, I got jumped in an alley…” he said quietly.

"No, you didn't Stanley! Your clothes would have been bloody and tattered had that been the case!" the elder exclaimed, gesturing towards the other.

"That's easy to explain-"

"I talked to Arthuria!"

Everything went quiet. A look of hurt crossed Stan's face at hearing of Arthuria’s betrayal. She wasn't supposed to say anything to Ford. She promised she'd keep it to herself.

"She told you?"

"She didn't have to. I found out on my own."

Stan started to play idly with his fingers, trying to come up with a good explanation, but nothing crossed his mind. He was cornered. He sighed in defeat and stared at his feet, he didn’t have the strength to look at his twin.

“You are the smarter twin.” He whispered.

"Honestly Stan, what were you thinking? Underground boxing? Don't you realize just how dangerous that is, let alone illegal?" Ford asked, beginning his pacing again.

"No, but I imagine yer gonna tell me." Stan muttered sarcastically.

“Don’t try to be a smartass!” Stanford had lost his calm and was yelling.

Stan winced at the tone. His brother sounded dangerously like their father. Stanford didn’t seemed to realize this though and kept going.

“Stanley! You could have died in there! You can still die fighting in this barbaric fight!” Ford tugged at his hair and started to pace again. “Do you have any idea of the risks you are taking?! Bill could sneak into the fight and attack or hurt you to get to me? Do you realize that?!”

"It's alright, geez. None of that has happened." Stan placated, hoping to de-escalate the conversation.

"It's not alright! It could still happen! Honestly, how stupid could you be?"

Everything went silent, only the slight wind from outside could be heard.

That hurt. Hearing Ford of all people calling him stupid, when he was the only one who had ever said he wasn't. It really hurt. And it must have showed by the way the elder had tensed and his eyes had blown wide.

Stanford clasped a hand over his mouth, regretting what he had said. But it couldn’t be undone. Before he could even attempt say anything, Stan had set his jaw, masking his expression in one of anger to hide the pain as he cut him off.

“I thought I could make this work.” He said coldly. “It’s the only thing that I could apply to. You wouldn’t believe how nobody wants to hire a high school drop out.” He let that sink in.

He heard his brother moan quietly behind him in misery, but ignored it. Part of him hated hurting Ford, but maybe the nerd needed to know that words had consequences. He heard some shuffling and raised a hand to stop him.

“I thought we could make this work… but guess I was too stupid to realized that either.” He sighed in defeat and walked toward the room’s exit. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure the money gets ta ya… then you won’t hear from me… ever again.”

"S-Stanley, wait!" Ford cried out.

But he wasn't listening. Stan was already out the door and down the steps, taking off in a sprint to his car as soon as his feet hit the slushy ground. By the time he'd gotten to his car, Ford was on the porch about to rush down the steps after him.

"Stanley please! Stanley!"

Cranking his car up, he threw it in reverse and once turned around, floored it down the backwoods road, not looking back. If he had, he would have seen the absolutely distraught look on Ford's face.

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“I’m telling you. Give me five hours and I’ll have the part you need.” Arthuria sighed for the tenth time in a row.

“I don’t doubt it, I’m jus' not a hundred percent sure on the methods you’ll employ to obtain said part.” Fiddleford said while he played nervously with his fingers.

“Does it matter really? It’s not like anyone would be using them.” She shrugged her shoulders.

They were walking down the sidewalk toward the more crowded part of the town to acquire the pieces they needed in order to repair her snowmobile.

Arthuria was trying to convince the southern man she could get the part needed without him having to buy one for her. Though, Fiddleford wasn't exactly comfortable with the insinuating idea that she would probably end up stealing it.

"Regardless of if'n it's bein' used, it's still not a good ider ta steal." Fiddleford said, pulling and holding the door open to an auto part store for the ginger.

Arthuria walked by him with mischievous smirk. "It's not stealing if nobody misses it."

"Arth'ria, that's not how…" he just sighed and followed her inside.

"So." Arthuria said, clasping her hands together. "Where would the snowmobile parts be in this joint?"

"I'm not 'tirely sure. It's ma first time workin' on one, so I've never had ta look specially fer a part fer one. We'll jus' hafta ask." Fiddleford replied, walking up to the checkout counter.

She glanced around them before pointing to a sign on the ceiling with the words “mechanics” on it.

“Maybe there is a good start.”

The southern mechanic gave her an unimpressed look. "Well, duh. Though there're several isles for mechanical parts. You can go see iff'n you can find 'em while I ask. An' don' steal anythin'."

Arthuria gave an offended (and fake) gasp with a hand on her chest. "I would never."

She winked knowingly at him before walking towards one of the isles. Fiddleford just rolled his eyes and went over to the cashier.

The cashier was a young boy that seemed to wanna be anywhere, but here at the moment. He was glancing at the clock on the other side of the wall every few seconds, his fingers tapping the counter impatiently. It made Fiddleford chuckled as it reminded him of another men who had once been as impatient. He shook his head to clear the image of his old roommate.

Stanford had made clear what his priorities were and he wasn’t part of it. He had even enrolled his brother and friend into his madness. Fiddleford should probably say something about that to her. She seemed nice, despite her questionable morality.

He smiled at the cashier and pointed to the clock with a shrug.

“Can’t wait fer yer shift ta be over ta see yer friends, can ya, lad?” He joked to lighten the mood.

The cashier laughed. “Not exactly. I just wanna make it in time to see the fight tonight. It’s gonna be a blood bath.”

"The fight? Like, a live match on television?" Fiddleford asked.

"No, man. A live fight over in Boring!" the young boy clarified, voice suddenly excited.

"Oh, really." Fiddleford said, now interested.

"Totally! I didn't get to see the others because I was trapped here at work, but I gotta make it there tonight."

"Why's that?"

"Because it's the night of the final match. And from what I've heard, it's gonna be worth the money."

The engineer frowned. “If ya can bet money, am I ta assume that'n it isn’t a very legal fight?” He asked casually.

The boy laughed. “Definitely not! Legal fights aren't as entertaining. Not only because of the betting, but also these are real fights. Not just some bodybuilders paid to get up on the mat and throw fake punches."

At that moment, Arthuria walked up with a small part in her hands, placing it on the counter.

"Pretty sure this is it. What are you two talking about?" she asked curiously.

"The final match of a boxin' turn-a-ment, 'parently." Fiddleford replied.

Arthuria frowned. "It wouldn't happen to be local, would it?"

"Yep." the cashier nodded. "And the guys fighting tonight, The Jersey Devil and Big Tiny, are tough as hell. But it's a no brainer to place all bets on Big Tiny."

"Why's that?" the southern man questioned, not noticing how uneasy Arthuria was suddenly becoming.

"The dude is built like an effing brick wall. Looks like the type that eats nails with his cereal for breakfast. Not to mention all the people who've went up against him so far are hospitalized for serious injuries or in comas."

The cashier hadn’t had a chance to finished his sentence by the time the young woman had grabbed Fiddleford by the wrist and started dragging him outside. Stumbling upon his own feet, it took a couple of tries before he could match up with Arthuria’s pace.

“What’s with the hurry? We didn’t even get a chance ta buy the thing we needed.”

“I’ll come back later for it.” She said as she dragged him back to his apartment. “Right now I just need to get to Ford's house. Fast!”

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No no no nonononoNO!

This is what kept running through Stanford's head as his brother's car disappeared down the dirt road. He had made chase for all of five minutes before the cold air burning his lungs and knowing he'd never catch up forced him to slow down and stop. He was breathing heavily, still staring in the direction of town, dumbly hoping Stan would come back.

But of course he didn't.

"You ignoramus, this is all your fault!" he yelled, berating himself for his actions. "Why do you always have to turn everything into an argument with him?! Now he's gone to the match and you may never see him agai-"

His words got choked up on a sob. He closed his eyes tightly and dug his fingers into the fabric of his pants.

It’s all he was good for these days it seems. Crying and yelling at his brother when all he ever tried to do was help him. He had apologized to him and Stan had accepted it, but it seemed as his own mind hadn’t caught up to what it meant. He had drove another friend-no, his brother away because of his arrogance. He broke everything he touched.

He cried on the wet dirt road that constituted his driveway for what felt like hours, the shadows around him stretching as the sun set on the horizon. He didn’t care how the cold was slowly seeping into his pants, making him shiver. Although it could also be from the sobbing he had a hard time to keep under control.

The sound of a motor vehicle had him freeze for a moment as he raised his head in the hopes to see the trademark red El Diablo driving back. But as the sound grew nearer, he could tell it wasn't the Stanleymobile. It sounded more like a truck, a familiar one. And it was traveling awfully fast and…he was still in the middle of the road.

Just as he went to get back on his feet, Fiddleford's truck practically slung around the curve of the road and he realized he wouldn't have enough time to get out of the way with his wobbly legs. Suddenly, his ears were filled with the sound of screeching tires while the truck jerked back and forth trying to stop. He screwed his eyes shut and coward down, shielding his head and stomach from the incoming hit…

Was he was still alive?

Hesitantly, he cracked an eye open, looking around. He was still in the middle of the road, surrounded by woods, and the truck was idling just a few inches from his face.

“Where did you learn to drive!” A high pitched southern voice screamed as the doors opened and closed.

“Nowhere.” A feminine voice answered. “Jeez, what are you doing in the middle of the road!”

Ford slowly stood on shaky legs, resting a hand on the truck's hood to keep himself steady. "I-I…was chasing after Stanley."

"Chasing?" Fiddleford questioned, confused.

"What happened?" Arthuria asked, frowning.

"I confronted Stan about competing in the tournament. He wouldn't admit it at first and I started getting frustrated."

There was a beat and the scientist rested a hand over his mouth as the words he had told his brother came flooding back to hunt him. Tears streamed down his face and more sobs escaped his lips. He closed his eyes and tried to get his breathing under control.

What a screw up he was…

Some shuffling and sighs were heard around him and a hand grabbed him under the elbow to moved him away from the truck. He raised his head to see his old friend gently guiding him toward an opened door to sit properly. Fiddleford was still avoiding his gaze, swiftly turned around once Ford was seated to walk up to Arthuria.

“What'n tarnation is goin' on here? Do ya care ta explain?”

"Remember that tournament the kid at the auto parts store was talking about?" Arthuria asked, waiting until the engineer nodded before continuing. "Well, Stan is in it."

Fiddleford's eyes widened. "Ford's brother is one a' the contestants? Seriously? Why on God's green Earth wou'dy do that fer?"

She turned toward Ford. “Reasons.”

Ford hadn’t moved from his spot and kept his head hid in his hands.

"Either way, let's take Ford back and then head to the tournament to try and….sheesh, prevent a massacre, I guess."

At her words, Stanford lifted his gaze and gave them both a questioning look. "Massacre?"

"Yeeeah. Apparently, your brother is going up against some guy named Big Tiny for the last match." Arthuria said, cringing a bit.

"That's…not a very intimidating stage name." Ford said, not knowing how to react.

"No, but the number of people he's hospitalized is."

Ford’s eyes opened wide as he realized that Stan had most then likely drive to his own death. His hands were shaking as he started to rise from his seat.

“We… we gotta go!” He exclaimed with a shaky voice, still rattled by his emotional outburst.

“Who’s we?” Asked Fiddleford. “You heard the young lady, you are going home.” There was a stern tone in his voice that left no room for argument.

The two men started to glare at one another.

“I am not leaving my brother to get killed in an illegal tournament. I am going after him.” Ford stated.

"What happens if you two get into another argument? Stan won't wanna talk if that happens." Arthuria said, with her hands on her hips.

"We won't." the ginger gave him an unbelieving look. "I won't start one!"

They kept the staring contest for a while. Ford blinking rapidly as the tears subsided and he managed to gain some sort of control over his emotions. He still sniffed a couple of times and wiped his nose with his sleeves, but he held Arthuria’s gaze.

She was the one that ended up backing away and raising her arms in the air.

“All right. Let’s get this dumbass to his brother.”

"Good." Ford said, going to climb into the backseat of the truck before realizing she'd called him a dumbass. "Heeey."

"Shove it and just get in." Arthuria said, pushing him the rest of the way.

The ginger went to get back in the driver's seat, only for Fiddleford block her way.

"Oh no. I'm drivin' this time."

She raised her hands in a surrendered pose. “Fine. But you better drive fast and we are keeping the windows down.” She said as she climbed in the passenger seat next to Fiddleford.

As soon as everyone was loaded up, the southern man turned the truck back around and floored it back to town and in the direction of Boring. The drive seemt to take forever to Ford before they came upon the abandoned school it was being held at. The place was packed, the parking lot full and several other vehicles parked on the sides of the road.

The seconds the truck was put in park, Arthuria’s door flew open and she dropped on all four to retched.

Ford paid little mind to the woman, anxious to get to his brother before the match could start. Jumping out of the truck, he quickly rushed to the entryway of the high school gym, throwing open the door and rushing inside.

It was hard to navigate through the crowd, everyone almost shoulder to shoulder in the packed space. The amount of people within the confines caused the scientist's social anxiety to flair, shoulders drawing up to cover his ears nervously and wrapping an arm unconsciously about his stomach.

Blast it, this wasn't the time for such foolish anxiety.

He jumped when a hand grabbed his arm, twisting his head around to see who it was. Thankfully, it was Fiddleford, with a still queezy looking Arthuria in tow.

“Don’t worry, we’ll found him.” The southerner reassured him.

It did little to appeased Ford’s ever rising anxiety, but he nodded nonetheless, happy to have someone to ground him. Even is said person still had a well deserved grudge against him.

Fiddleford nodded in returned, but frowned worriedly when he saw Stanford holding his stomach with one of his hands.

“Are you nervous? You gotta stomachache?” He asked.

The scientist shook his head. “It’s nothing. Let’s just find Stanley and get out of here.”

Fiddleford continues to frown, but did as his former friend wished, guiding him through the sea of people to a booth where everyone was placing bets.

"200 on Big Tiny!" one of the bidders called out, handing cash to one if the workers.

"50 on Jersey!" another hollered.

"100 on Big Tiny!"

A lot of people seemed to be bidding on the Big Tiny fellow. That just made Stanford even more anxious to get to his twin before it was too late.

"What's your bid?" a man at the table asked, speech slurred by the cigar in his mouth.

"Eh, we're not here ta bid, 'm afraid." Fiddleford replied.

"We need to speak with one of the contenders." Arthuria added.

"Sorry, but audience members aren't allowed back with the fighters while they're getting ready for the match." the guy said, trying to brush them off.

"Please, it's important. He's my brother. I really need to speak with him." Ford begged.

A hand rested on his shoulder and he turned his head to see Arthuria pointing with her chin toward a wall. He followed her gaze and saw a door unattended on the far side.

“Thank you for your time.” She said to the men behind the table and guided Ford away from him.

He dutifully followed her, Fiddleford hot behind them. He still shot worried glances over his shoulder, wondering if anyone would see them (or if he would see Bill's yellow eyes), but most of the crowd was entertained by the current fight and didn’t pay them any mind.

Nearing the door to the locker room, Arthuria and Ford peered in to make sure it was the right room. The moment they saw Stan sitting on one of the benches rifling through his bag, they knew it was. A slight bit of tension left the eldest twin at knowing he'd gotten here in time.

"Stanley!" Ford said thankfully, causing the other to jump a bit.

Stan turned his head in their direction as they entered the room and shut the door behind them. His gaze bounced back and forth between the three, eyes wide in surprise.

“Wha-what… why are ya here?” He sputtered.

"We came to talk to you." Ford said, stepping forward slightly. "I came to talk to you."

"Wha'd about?" Stan asked, giving him a weary look.

"About the fight."

Stan sighed irritably, standing up. "Ugh, here we go again. Wouldja just can it with that? I get it, already."

Ford played with his fingers, trying to work up the courage and found the right words. He was hurt by Stan’s words and needed to get everything off his chest.

“No… No I can’t 'can it'… Not when I could lose you.” He managed to found Stan’s gaze. “I can’t lose you again.”

"Lose me?" Stan questioned, both surprised and confused by his brother's words.

"Have you not seen the other opponent? He's a fucking tank." Arthuria stated, throwing her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the door.

“He doesn’t scare me.” Stan replied. “I’ve dealt with worse.” He turned back toward his bag and started to wrap some bandage around his wrists and hands.

“I don’t think you have!” she said. She walked over the bench to stare directly at him. “Dude, he’s not a man! He's a… walking mountain with a head glued on top. I saw him on the other side of the gymnasium. You can’t miss him, he’s the only one that towers over the rest of the crowd.”

Stan laughed mirthlessly. “The bigger they are, the harder they fall.” He stated.

“This is not some crusade! This is David versus Goliath and i’m sorry to tell you, but this fight doesn’t have a happy ending.”

A silence fell upon the group. The only sound that reached them were the shouts from the crowd slipping through the walls and door.

"I don't care."

The other three tensed, looking at Stan as if he'd grown a second head.

"W-what?" Ford asked with a shaky voice.

"I don't care. I don't care what happens to me." Stan said, looking at his brother, with his gloves in hand. "I don't care if I get hurt or if he puts me in a coma like all the other sad saps he fought. I don't care. As long as I win that money ta set ya up while yer goin' through all this, that's all that matters."

The 'you're all that matters' went unspoken, but Ford could still hear it as if it had been. Did Stan really think so little of himself? So much so that he believed his twin was the only one with worth?

"Stan…h-how can you not care?" Ford questioned in disbelief.

"Because I ain't worth shit!" Stan exclaimed, turning himself fully towards his brother. "All my life, I ain't had one cent of worth to my name! I had no smarts, I had no talents, I had no friends, I had nothin' goin' for me, let alone a future like you. And everyone knew it. The principal knew it, the teachers knew, the town, Dad knew it, and so did I!"

Stanley walked the short distance between them, coming to stand face to face with the elder of the two. He looked Ford directly in the eyes, expression stoic, a facade of his true pained emotion only his eyes couldn't hide.

"You did too. I just didn't realize it until you closed the curtains and turned your back on me."

Ford stood stock still, stunned by his brother's words. God, what happened to the boisterous and worry-less boy he knew as a kid? Had the world really treated him this poorly? Or had it all been put on then too. Was he really so blind that he'd never seen the pain in his brother's eyes until now?

The door swung open suddenly behind him, causing him to jump slightly. Though, he didn't turn around to look, still frozen in place holding Stan's gaze. It was probably the referee or spectator.

"Pines, you're up in two minutes…Hey, you three aren't supposed to be back here!" the guy said, sounding a bit agitated.

"It's alright." Stan said, breaking gaze to walk around Ford. "They were just leaving."

For all of three gut-wrenching seconds, Ford continued to stand motionless, eyes wide and heart racing with fear. Fear similar to that which had kept him all those years ago from running after his brother (as well as anger). And it was doing the same thing now.

But he couldn't let his fear take control. Not now, not when Stan was still right there, not when he could still stop this-

With newfound strength, he managed to break confines of his own fear holding him in place to spin around and dash the dew short feet to Stan before he could leave the room and hugged him tightly from behind.

The younger twin stiffened, halting his movement towards the door as he stared down at the six fingered hands clutching desperately at the front of his shirt in surprise.

“Not without you.” Ford stated, voice shaking. He tried clearing his throat and regaining his emotions before continuing. “Stanley… I-I am so sorry I never realized… I should…”

He cut his words short when an involuntary sob choked him up. Unable to contain himself, Ford pressed his face uncomfortably against the back of his brother's neck, sniffling loudly.

Their friends stayed quiet as they waited for Stanford to continue. None feeling like what they might say would be wanted.

“You are not worthless, Stanley! You are the most loyal person in this world I-I've ever met and…you're my best friend. You always were! I am deeply sorry it took me this long to see it!” He whined while Stan stood frozen in place, letting him get everything out. “I-I don’t think I can get through everything alone, I know I can't…I need you by my side…for the sake of…I want them to meet you.”

Stan inhaled sharply out of surprise. Meet them?

"Wha'ddya-"

"I want the baby to know their uncle." Ford clarified, voice slightly muffled from his face being smooshed against the other's back. "And not just from stories. I-I want them to meet you. To spend time with you, to get to know you and love you as I do."

Ford could feel his twin's breath shudder at hearing his words.

"…but they might not get that chance if you fight that man out there." Ford lifted his head a bit, looking over Stan's shoulder at the side of his face. "Please…don't go out there."

Stan was staring down, eyes glazed slightly with building tears. And he stayed that way for a long moment, before swallowing the lump of emotions in his throat and closing his eyes as his shoulders slumped. He brought a hand up, resting it momentary over one of Ford's.

The elder smiled, believing he'd finally gotten through to his twin…only for his smile to vanish the moment Stan grabbed his other hand and gently pried himself from the hug. Ford was taken aback, grappling to keep ahold of the other to no avail.

Without so much as a word, Stanley slipped through the locker room door and made his way up to the ring. Stanford swore he could feel his heart shatter on the floor. His apology had come too late and now his brother would rather be put into a coma than spend another moment near him.

Tears burned his eyes as he watched him go, knowing he had failed as a brother. He numbly felt Fiddleford's boney hand rest comfortingly on his shoulder, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Arthuria stomped over to the door, glaring up to the ring where Stan was ducking under the ropes. Though instead of getting into his corner, he walked up to the referee and whispered something into his ear. The latter made an exasperated face at whatever he'd said.

"Hey, c'mere." Arthuria called over to Ford, waving for him to come look.

Confused, the pregnant scientist came up to stand beside her and watch his brother through tear-filled eyes. Stanley was stepping away from the ref, striding over to Big Tiny. He looked up at the hulking man for a moment before sticking out his hand and saying something.

Ford would be lying if he said he didn't flinch when Big Tiny reached his hand forward as well, shaking Stan's with a curt nod. When they released their grips, the grifter ducked back under the ropes and started walking back towards them as the referee spoke into a mic.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I announce the tournament winner by default, Big Tiny!"

Cheers, boos, and jeers erupted throughout the crowd. Stan ignored them though, smiling at the three.

"What're we standing around here for? Let's go." Stan said, nodding towards the exit.

"You…you forfeited the match?" Ford asked, his hope growing again.

"Well, duh. That's what ya wan'ed, wasn't it?" Stan asked sarcastically, face coloring slightly, avoiding Ford's eyes. "'sides, can't have ya worryin' about me gettin' hurt. You got enough stress as it is."

Wiping his eyes, Stanford smiled and threw his arms around his twin's shoulders and squeezed him tightly. "Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah. No big deal." Stan grumbled nonchalantly, patting Ford's back in return. "Now come on. Need ta get outta here before any of these yahoos starts a riot."

Doing just that, the small group filed in line behind him and started making their way to the exit. Fiddleford cleared his throat and came up to walk next to Ford.

“Um… who’s baby are ya referrin' to?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. “Did yer older brother have 'nother kid?"

Ford blinked a couple of times before turning to his friend.

“Pardon?”

"I asked who's baby you were referrin' to." Fiddleford repeated.

Oh…that's right. Fiddleford didn't know.

Stanford twittled his fingers together, giving a nervous laugh. He looked around anxioysly to make sure no strangers within earshot.

"It's uh…i-it's mine."

The southern man looked at him crazy, obviously not expecting his answer.

The Pines twins quickly exited the gym, their respective friend close behind them. He still needed to make amends, proper ones, with Fiddleford, but the fact that they were talking was a big step.

They were already out in the parking lot, leaving the noisy gymnasium behind when-

“WELL, WELL, WELL!” a nasaly voice mused behind the group.

Stanford froze dead on his tracks, body refusing to move.

It couldn't be. Not here, not now!

Gulping, Ford slowly turned, the others following suit to see who had spoken. Under a single pole light in the parking lot just a few yards away stood a man.

His head was hung low, face just out of view. His clothes were tattered, dried blood appeared to be causing shirt sleeves to cling to his arms. He was missing a boot, the sock on his foot baring a hole.

But those weren't the most off putting features of this man. What was off putting, what scared Ford absolutely shitless was the inhuman grin that split his face as he looked up, and the glowing yellow eyes that haunted his dreams.

"ISN'T THIS INTERESTING."

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alextwdgf01 · 2 years

Text

The Restoration Of Eroded Soils- Chap 7: Job Hunting

4,402 words

"Do I got the job?" "No." "Sorry, but no." "Get lost." "I'm sorry, Mr. Pines, but I'm afraid we can't hire you." Exiting Mr. Zzz's Matresses, Stan gave a heavy sigh and sat on the curb. For the past few days since the roads had cleared, he had been trying to get a job to help Ford with his bills and buying groceries and such. He'd snatched up every help wanted flyer he could find and went to apply, but it seemed none of the businesses would hire him. Not even the library because the old lady who owned it said he was 'too loud.' Well, it may have been for the best. The job was boring and you didn't even get paid minimum wage. But the mattress store had been the last place in town that had an open position. And after being turned down for that job, he felt like what he'd been doing was useless. That he was useless. What person do you know can't even get a underpaying, simple job even a pig could do? Being without a high school diploma was probably one of the worst things with being homeless. He could never find a legitimate job that would hire him, which made it near impossible for him to get by. Not without having to do dirty, low down jobs that could easily end up with him getting arrested or killed. Or worse. The young grifter shivered at the thought of having to take on any of those awful jobs again. The things he's seen, the things he's done. He can't go back to that. He can't be that low again. There had to be some sorta job around this backwoods town he could do- "Ack!" His thoughts were derailed by a stray flyer that had been caught by the wind and smacked into his face. Reaching a hand up, he yanked the offending paper off with an annoyed huff. As he went to ball it up and chunk it far away, something caught his eye. Frowning, Stanley brought the text closer into view. It was for a (likely illegal) boxing tournament one town over at an abandoned high school. From March 15th-20th. Sign ups are from 9th-11th, up to 20 contestants may enter. $10,000 grand prize. "Sweet Moses!" he said to himself. "This is what we need." With that money, it'd be enough to set them up for a while, at least until he could find a proper job to sustain income. Even better, he'd gotten pretty damn good at boxing over the years. Both from competing in similar tournaments to earn a bit of extra cash, and having to to fight for his life on multiple occasions. This could be a start. To prove to Ford he isn't a bum, that he can be useful. That he can provide for himself and help his brother out. And maybe when this is all over, when they've gotten rid of Bill and he's had the kid, maybe, just maybe he'll let him stay. Let him back into his life, and into his future niece/nephew's. Maybe... ---------------------------------------------------------------------- "Next." It was the day of sign ups. Stanley had gotten up early to make the drive to Boring, hoping to get back before his brother woke up. He stood in line, with only two guys ahead, but a long line behind him. He didn’t think there would be so many contestants for this pretty much illegal fighting ring set up in a high school gymnasium. He guessed when people were desperate or bored they would get up to just about anything. Just as he was. He didn’t want to just stay around the house and do nothing, he wanted to make an income to pay for the bills and the food. Arthuria’s generosity could only get them so far. He would put in his own work and earn his share. He wasn’t going to rely on others. Not this time. “Next.” Unconsciouly, he moved forward. The grifter needed to win this. He could win this. Some of these guys didn't look all that experienced. Appeared that they might only lift weights. Some didn't even look like they could fight.. They wouldn't last the first rounds. The rest evidently were or had been boxers. With the way they were built and how they held themselves, they had experience. They would be more of a challenge. "Next." He stepped forward and faced the registrar. Stan shoved his hand in

his pockets and looked nonchalantly around him. “Name.” The guy sitting at the dingy table asked without looking up. “Stan Pines.” He answered matter of facto. The man wrote it down, but Stan could see him frown as he did. He looked up to examine his face. “Pines… aren’t you that science guy that lives in that shack out in the middle of the woods of Gravity Falls?” He said carefully. Must be a local. “Nah, that’s my brother.” Stan answered, acting as if it didn’t mean much. It did matter to him, but these guys didn’t need to know about it. "Hm." the guy continued to stare at him for a brief moment before shrugging his shoulders and going back to the paperwork. "Have you had any prior experience in boxing?" "High school. Participated in a few of these too over the years." The registrar nodded, jotting it down. "Then you are aware of our terms? We are not held liable for possible injuries you may and will receive in the tournament, including anything from minor to life threatening in nature." "Yes." “All right, you’re all set.” He ripped a piece of paper off and handed it to Stan. “You’re first match is Monday at 9pm. Come get ready an hour before with your equipment. We can lend you a pair of gloves if you don’t have any, but that’s it and they ain’t new. Each fight gives you 50$ for participating. 100$ if you win.” Stan took the piece of paper and read. It was his first match with a short paragraph, summing up the rules of the underground tournament. “You loose a fight, you’re out. Got it?” the registrar said. “Got it.” Stan turned on his feet and walked out of the gym. He had a week before him to practice a little and found a pair of gloves. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Over the next few days, Stan found himself working out in the Gravity Falls Fitness Gym in preparation for his first fight. Spending his time lifting weights and perfecting his technique. He still had a mean left hook, which would serve him well for quick knock out blows. Though, his blocking still would need work. Stanford had been asking why he was spending so much time uptown lately, seeming to be concerned (likely that Bill would try to possess him). He had wanted to tell him about the boxing gig, but he wasn't really sure how he'd react to it given his nerd brother was a goody-two-shoes that didn't like dealing in illegal activities. So, Stan told him he had been job hunting and managed to land one. Which, wasn't a total lie. The elder twin had been surprised, and actually seemed excited by the news. He told Stan he was proud that he'd found a job. As he kept throwing punches at the sand bags he was working on, he wondered if his brother had really meant it. Over the past few days, as his fever rose and spiked, Ford had said many things. Things that Stan attributed to the delirious state in which his brother had found himself. Being all apologetic and nice to him when he didn’t do much to begin with. He was only taking care of his sick twin, anyone would have done the same thing. He managed to punch the sand bag wrong, grunting from the sudden pain. He shook his hand out and removed the glove to examine it. He would definitely have a bruise, but nothing he couldn’t brush off. "Come on, Stan. Ya can't let yourself get distracted. Your brother's counting on you." Stan told himself, strapping the glove back on. "You can't let him down. Not again." As he went to punch the sand bag again, he noticed someone watching him outside through the window. His eyes snapped up to the figure, fixing them with a glare. It was only when they jumped back like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar did Stanley realize it was that skittish friend of his brother's. He sighed and decided that he had enough practice for the day. Plus it was getting late and he didn’t want to come home to his brother waiting for him on the back porch. As he packed his stuff away, he glanced at the window to see the skinny man still there, observing him. “If

you’re gonna spy on people, at the very least you should be subtle about it.” Stan shouted, loud enough for him to hear him outside. The guy tensed, turning his gaze downward as he nervously fiddled with his fingers. After what appeared to be him mulling over his thoughts, his brother's friend took a deep breath and turned to enter the gym. "I-I apologize fer the int-trusion. Ya just...well, ya look a lot like Stanferd." he finally sputtered out. "Well, we are twins." Stan shrugged, throwing his gloves into his duffel before zipping it closed and standing to his full height. "No kiddin'." the thinner man mumbled. Stan raised an eyebrow, expression unimpressed. "I-I mean-I knew he had 'n older brother, but he never mentioned y-you." he explained, holding his hands up placatingly. "Figures." Stan rolled his eyes, ignoring the small pang in his heart at hearing his brother had never mentioned him. "We haven't been exactly 'buddy buddy' for a while, so I'm not surprised my name never came up." It’s not like he too had ever blurted out that he had a twin to anyone he met. The only other person he told once was Arthuria. “He-he did mention… something about a ruined opportunity.” He fumbled with his words. “Anyway…I-I just...you should be wary of him… he isn’t in his right mind.” Stan laughed, a dark dry thing that passed his lips as he walked by the man. “Yeah, no kidding. That's why he called me here." The southern man blinked. "H-he did?" "Mhm. Asked me to help him. Got in way over his head and said he didn't have anyone around who would help." Stan put a bit of venom into the last part of his sentence. He wasn't completely sure as to what had happened between Ford and this guy, and he didn't wanna start a fight, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't pissed that he left his brother alone to handle a demon and being pregnant. The scrawny southern man looked distraught before clenching his fists and donning a determined frown. “I tried to help, but he didn’t want it… But I guess he mus’ta come to some reasonin' if'n he contacted ya.” They stared at one another for some time, an uncomfortable silence settling between them. “Did you want something else?” Stan finally asked, wanting this uncomfortable conversation to end as fast as possible. "Ah, y-yes, um. Yer friend, A'thuria? I tried t-ta r'pair her snow mobile best I could, but there're a few parts that're far too damaged. It'll r'quire new 'nes ta oper-ma-rate." the scrawny guy said, scratching his head. "Couldja maybe, pass th' message along ta her?" "Sure, I'll let her know, Mr...?" "Well tarnation, where're my manners? The name's McGucket. F-Fiddleford Mcgucket." he said, holding out his hand. Stan shook his hand. "Stanley Pines." The man had a strong grip, calloused as much as Stan’s was but probably from working on machinery as opposed to underground fights. They broke contact and were about to go their separate ways when something struck in the grifter’s mind. “Wait, she has a snow mobile?” He asked the other men. “Well, I guess so, because that’s with what she crashed near my apartment an odd week ago.” Fiddleford said. “She doesn’t?” Stan frowned. “Not that I know of… she might’ve burrowed it from somewhere…” he meant to ask his friend how she got here so quickly after his initial phone call. As far as he knew, she didn’t even have a driver's permit. "I suppose so. I'd...best be goin'." Fiddleford said in deep thought, turning and leaving. "Yyyeah." With his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, Stan made his way out to his car, throwing it carelessly in the seat beside him. He cranked the engine with ease, backing out of the parking space, and drove back in the direction of the house. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- This was it. The day he'd been preparing for. Game day. The gym was packed to the brim with onlookers, waiting for the first match to begin. His heart was hammering loudly in his ears to the rhythm of the crowd cheering and

being riled up for the fight. His stomach was all tied up and he swallowed a lump that threatened to make him barf just before the fight. He hadn’t felt this nervous in a long, long time. Why was he nervous al of a sudden? Maybe it was because the pressure wasn't on him winning the money for himself. That it was for helping care for his brother. Before, it wasn't too big of a deal if he lost. He could just pickpocket some poor schmuck in the crowd for food and gas money. Stan couldn't just do that here. He couldn't rely on a mere few dollars from a stranger's wallet. Taking deep breaths and closing his eyes, he concentrated on himself for a moment. He let go of every thought that ran in his mind and cleared his head. He even managed to make the voice that sounded strangely like his father, telling him that it wasn’t as if he was using much of his brai anyway, to quiet down. As his thoughts silenced themselves, he found himself being able to hear the blood rushing in his vein. His stomach twisting and grumbling both from stress and lack of a proper meal before hand. The small granola bar he had was long forgotten, but it would suffice. He had eaten less for longer periods before. He could do this. He could win this. As long as he kept his head in the game, didn't let his fear of letting Ford down get in the way, he could win. "Pines, you're up." Opening his eyes, Stan let out a long breath, along with it his worry. He stood, taking off his shirt so it wouldn't get ruined during the fight. Shoving in his mouth guard and slipping on his gloves, the boxer made his way out of the locker room to the ring as the referee announced the competitors. "Up next, we have Raphael Rodriguez versus the Jersey Devil!" The crowd cheered and booed. Stanley smirked at the stage name he had given himself. Anytime he entered a boxing tournament, he'd always went by that name. Wasn't exactly original, but he thought it was as good as any. Stepping up on the mat they were using as a ring, he took a moment to size up his opponent. The guy was shorter than himself, but stocky built. Probably around his own age. Looked like he could bench press a cow. The youngest Pines twin might would be worried about his chances of winning against him. If not for the fact he could tell Ralphy wasn't experienced in boxing, based on the fact he lacked 'boxer legs' and his appearance practically screamed he relied more on his strength than strategy. "Alright. No hits below the belt, no biting, and no kicking." the ref instructed before backing out of their way. "...Fight!" Ralph lunged forward immediately, trying to knock him out in one quick hit. But Stan was expecting this, dodging out of the way and cutting a blow to the man's ribs. His opponent spun around, aiming again and again for his face. The grifter just continued to duck and dodge, putting in a few well-placed punches when he could. His goal was to let the inexperienced guy wear himself out a bit, making it easier on himself to decommission Ralphy. It was working. As the minutes ticked by, the Hispanic man was beginning to tire. His movements were slower and more spaced out, which meant his reaction time would be too. Sidestepping another one of his punches, Stan swung harf for his midsection, causing him to double over. Taking the opening, he went for the knock out blow and- "The winner, the Jersey Devil!" ---------------------------------------------------------------------- His first match had went over quite well. Ol' Ralphy never even got a hit in on him! However, the next guy he fought...well... "Oh my God! Stanley, what happened to you?!" He played dirty. His second opponent, Doug, (lame stage name, btw) had gotten frustrated by Stan being able to dodge his hit. And had decided to grab a fistul of his mullet in order to keep him still. Stanley won the match, but not before receiving several blows to the head and torso. The end result left him with multiple bruises, an especially smarting one on his cheek. Which would have

been impossible to hide from Ford, though he did try. "Eh, it's nothin'." Stan said, trying to brush off the other's concern. “Not-nothing!? Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately!” The voice exclaimed. There was worry in it, but Stan was too out of it to care. "You look like you were in a fight!" "I didn't get in a fight." Stan lied. "Then what on earth happened?" Ford asked, looking the other in the eye. The other's voice sounded even more worried then before. Stan had been so knocked out that he stumble on his feet and landed heavily on the couch, almost falling on to the floor. When had he made it back home? In one piece nonetheless. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his head, wincing as it brushed over the black eye he definitely had and his swollen cheek. He was pretty certain his lips had also split on one side if not both, with how much a beating he had taken. “Let me take a look” the voice said again. Looking blurily over to the source, he saw Arthuria come to stand by him, bending slightly over him to examine his injuries. Stan flinched when she lightly prodded at the mottled bruises visible on his arms and face. She tutted. "What in the world did you get yourself into this time, Pines?" "Got jumped in an alley." he said lamely. It was a weak lie, but a believable one. At least, one Ford would believe. Arthuria on the other hand was giving him a questioning look, but said nothing. "Jumped?! By who?" Ford asked, crouching down beside his brother. “Drunks, by the alcohol I can smell on him.” She grumbled as she gently probed at the wounds on his face, causing him to whine. “Stop being such a baby. Can you get me the first aid kit?” It took Ford a moment to realized the question was addressed to him. He just stood there for a moment, until his brain managed to catch onto what Arthuria was saying, shuffling on his feet for a second before darting fast into the next room. Stan thought he would be relived to have his brother leave for a moment, but the hold Arthuria had on his arms told him otherwise. He winced and glanced at her briefly. “Now, seriously. How’d you end up like this? I do smell alcohol on you, but it’s far from being the only thing.” She frowned. The younger Pines stared blankly at her for a moment, trying to come up with a lie his friend would believe. Though Arthuria seemed to sense this, squeezing his arms again in warning. "Tryin' ta earn some money. Need ta take care of my brother." the grifter finally answered. "How?" "...boxing." Arthuria's eyes narrowed. "Seriously? You're doing that shit again?" Stan just looked away, shrugging. "You know how dangerous illegal boxing is, Stan. People get killed doing that. They have no rules in the ring." "Yeah, they do." "None that would protect you. They don't care if you get beaten to a bloody pulp as long as it entertains them and makes the coordinators money. Did you not learn your lesson back in '73?" Memories of that day slowly rose to the forefront of Stan's mind. It was full of nothing, but sweat, pain, blood, and a long week in a hospital. "If your brother knew about this-" "Please don't tell Sixer!" Stan's eyes were wide in fear, giving his friend a pleading look. He didn't want Ford to know he was participating in illegal boxing, afraid of what he would think of him for it. Afraid it might ruin his only chance at making everything up to his brother. Arthuria stayed quiet for what felt as eternity. Her eyes scanning the beaten men’s injuries before she sighed in defeat. “Fine. I won’t. But you’ll need to. Remember what happened last time you kept things from him?” At that moment was when Ford finally reappeared with the first aid kit, setting it down on the dinosaur skull by the couch. "I grabbed one of mine I keep around the house. There's some cream that will speed up the healing process." he told Arthuria before coming to hover over his brother, looking worriedly down at him. "Is he okay?" "He will be. None of the bruises are major and nothing's broken. At

most, he more than likely has a concussion based on how dilated his eyes are. And there's a slight cut on his arm." the ginger haired woman informed, rifling through the first aid kit for what she needed. The younger twin frowned, lifting his arms into view. Sure enough, there was a small cut along the top of his arm which had bled at some point. "Huh, never noticed that." Stan said. She just rolled her eyes and applied the medical alcohol on it without skipping a beat. Stan winced and tried to swipe his arm away, but the ginger girl had an iron grip on his wrist, preventing him from escaping. “Ow! Easy on the merchandise.” He said. “Take better care of it and I’ll go easy.” She replied. Ford stood next to them and observed how quickly and efficiently Arthuria moved around the different wounds. She spent little time on them, but she still gave them enough care to heal up properly. The way her hands worked, he wondered if she ever did this before. "Do you happen to have any ice packs?" Arthuria asked. "No, unfortunately. Though there is ice in the freezer that I can go wrap in a wash cloth." Ford turned to do just that until the ginger stopped him. "Don't worry, I can go get it." Arthuria insisted, stashing supplies back into the first aid kit and taking it with her to put back up. The brothers were alone again in the living room and an awkward silence settled between them. Each avoided the other’s eyes. Until Ford broke the silence first. “Why didn’t you call for help?” He said quietly. Dammit, Ford just wasn't gonna let this go, was he? "In the alley? Cause I knew I could handle it. Ain't the first time I hadda fend for myself." he noticed how Ford seemed to slump guiltily at his words. "Look, I handled it. Ya don't gotta worry bout me." The elder twin sighed loudly. “Even if I don’t I am worrying about you.” He confessed as he sat on the skull, hiding his face in his hands. “Stanley, I-I always worry about you. Every time you head out… anything could happened and most importantly Bill is still out there!” He stood back on his feet and stared worriedly around him as if any shadows in the room could jump on him. Hearing his confession, that Ford worried about him, made his heart do this fluttering thing. Made him feel that they might actually have a chance to fix things between them. But at the same time, seeing his brother worry, getting all paranoid made him feel bad for causing him to worry. "This was just a freak incident, Ford. And look at me, I'm fine." "You are concussed and covered it bruises!" The wounded man just shrugged his shoulders, regretting it immediately. He hadn’t realized he even had bruised there. He sighed and tried to get up, but his head spun too much. He stayed on the couch in silence. “Look, it’s nothin’ I can’t walk away from Stanford.” He said after a while. “I’ve dealt with worse.” "You shouldn't have ever had to!" Ford cried. The elder took a deep breath to calm his rising anxiety, sitting on the edge of the couch by Stan's torso, resting his face in his hands. Ford was shaken up, more so than normal when he got hurt. Likely due to his hormones fluctuating and stress from everything. It gave Stan some concerns. He needed the money, but it might not be worth the cost of putting his twin through such distress. He wanted to stop, but he was too deep in the competition to back down now. He promised to himself to be more careful,, to take better precautions in order to not take on as much damage as he did tonight. Stan hesitantly reached up, resting a hand on his back. "Hey, I'm alright. Really." The young scientist lifted his face from his hands, looking over at Stanley. The grifter gave him a reassuring smile, lightly patting his back. Stan couldn’t help the chuckled that passed his lips. “Here I am, beaten up and i’m the one giving you comfort.” Ford let out something akin to a huff and a laugh, fixing his glasses back in place. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked. "Yeah, I'm sure."

---------------------------------------------------------------------- Stanford's hands shook as he stared down in wide eyed disbelief at the crumpled flyer for a boxing tournament he was holding.

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alextwdgf01 · 3 years

Text

Couple a thing:

1: I went ahead and put all of the Mpreg Ford fics together into one multi chapter work and renamed the title.

2: The next fic (chapter 4) of the au has been posted! So please go check it out.

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elishevart · 3 years

Text

A little sketch idea I had for a while. Arthuria Collins holding Little A. They are both the same characters but Little A is Arthuria when she was younger and when she is de-aged.

Hope you like.

Bonus:

Full body Arthuria.

#my original characters #my oc character #my ocs are my babies #Arthuria Collins #Little A #cute #de aged #digital sketch #original character

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alextwdgf01 · 2 years

Text

The Restoration Of Eroded Soils

Chap. 5: A Checkup From A.B. Normal

4,172 words

"Well, you're obviously suffering from malnutrition and sleep-deprivation. But all things considered, it could be worse." Arthuria stated as she took observations of Ford's current physical health.

"Yeah, well you didn't see him when I first got here. He was a few pounds away from bein' a skeleton." Stan said, poking at his brother's ribs, only for his hand to be slapped away with a grumble.

"He seems to have put on quite a bit of weight since then."

"Most of that is baby fat." Stan smirked.

Ford's face heated up in slight embarrassment. "Shut up, Stan."

The ginger haired woman tutted. "It can't just be baby fat. That wouldn't be healthy for either of you."

Arthuria's words gave the elder twin pause for confusion. Ford frowned.

"What does my...fat have to do with Stan's health?" he questioned.

"I was talking about you and the baby." Arthuria replied bluntly.

Ford tensed, becoming flabbergasted by her knowing of his pregnancy. His expression was alight with surprise and slight hysteria as his eyes flashed over to Stanley.

"I-bu...I-I-Stanley! Did you seriously tell her about the-the situation?!"

"He didn't have to." Arthuria cut in. "You smell of hormones."

This gave the young scientist even greater pause, trying to process her words.

"You...you can smell hormones?" Ford asked owlishly.

The young ginger nodded, nose wrinkling up in sudden disgust as she looked around the living room. "Yeah, and more. What the hell happened in here? Smells like somebody died."

"Things got a little...out of hand around here." Ford chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'll say." Arthuria lifted her satchel into her lap, cocking her head to the side as she regarded the six fingered twin. "So, how'd you end up pregnant? I never took biology in school, but last I checked, men aren't capable of carrying. "

"I, uh..." Ford looked over to Stan uncertainly, reluctant to answer.

Stan nodded to Arthuria, wordlessly saying he could tell her.

"...I study the supernatural, the oddities here in this town. During an outing two months ago, I discovered an intriguing patch of angiosperms I'd never seen before. As I got closer to inspect them, they expelled a mist of pollen all over me and I accidentally breathed some of it in." Ford explained, muttering to himself about how his allergies had been terrible for the rest of the week before continuing. "After a week, I hadn't had any ill side effects, so I wrote it off. But then I started experiencing what would be clarified as early pregnancy symptoms, and well..."

There was a beat of silence as the scientist awkwardly trailed off, before a cackling laughter filled it. Ford flinched, feeling his heart rate spike up at the sudden outburst from the ginger (too, because it reminded him of Bill's laughter). Stan himself even gave her a questioning look at her reaction to his story.

Arthuria just continued her unexplained fit, slapping her knee. All the while, Ford noticed her cap slip down slightly to one side, revealing what appeared at first glance as a tangled knot of slightly darker hair. But it appeared strange. The "knot" was almost triangular in shape and...was it twitching?

Before he could further contemplate this, Arthuria was beginning to calm down, reaching up to readjust her cap as she caught her breath.

"Sorry, sorry." she gasps in a few breaths, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. "It's just, I was imagining what you face musta looked like when you first found out you were pregnant."

"If it was anything like the time he realized he'd forgotten to turn the oven off and our parent's apartment almost burned down, he probably looked like this." Stan said, proceeding to imitate Ford's expression at that time.

The two busted out laughing, all the while Ford hurumphed embarrassedly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well, I'm glad my current predicament gives you both such joy."

"Hey, I'm just tryna light'n the mood here. The situation's pretty weird, bro." Stan chortled. "But ya don't have ta get all grumpy about it."

"I believe that may be his hormones. They can cause a wom-er, individual during pregnancy to become easily agitated or overly emotional." Arthuria said as she pulled a rolled up magazine out of her bag, bringing into view for both brothers to see. "It's all in here."

Ford gave the cover a scrutinizing look, before his eyes darted back to the woman's.

"Stan neglected to say, but are you an obstetrician?" he asked, almost wary.

"Nnnooooo...but I have performed a c-section before!" Arthuria responded proudly.

"Was it successful?"

The ginger waved her hand in a so-so gesture.

Ford face palmed, turning towards his brother beside him.

"Where did you find her?" Ford asked, irritation slipping into his voice.

"I didn't. She found me." the younger twin responded.

"This is insane. She doesn't even know anything about childbirth, and probably doesn't know much about prenatal care either! I thought you said she could help?!"

“She can! In more ways then you can possibly imagine!” Stan said, his voice starting to raise dangerously.

Both twins were now staring at one another, frowning.

"Please, partel how she can possibly help?" Ford huffed out annoyedly, before turning to Arthuria with a slightly less annoyed frown. "No offense."

She raised an eyebrow. “Huh, I’ll take the offense.” She said while crossing her arms over her chest. ”Listen, I came here because I like Stan and I owe him one. I barely know anything about you, just that you’re Stan’s brother and got yourself impregnated.”

The small group stayed quiet for some time, mulling over what the others had said. Finally, Stan sighed and passed a hand over his face.

“How about we play twenty questions?” He suggested.

Ford rolled his eyes. "Seriously?"

"What? You're the one who can't stop asking how trustworthy and helpful Arthuria is. It's the only thing I could think of." Stan muttered, crossing his arms.

“I don’t mind.” Arthuria shrugged while uncrossing her arms. “I’ll even give you the first one.”

She sat back on her chair, making herself comfortable, her bag resting back next to her chair. The eldest twin pondered to himself for a moment, brows scrunched up in concentration.

"What is your exact line of work?" Ford finally asked.

Arthuria thought for a moment, raising a hand to her chin in deep thought.

“Mmm… thief. People need some things from somewhere and I offer my service to… retrieve said things. At a certain price.” She answered with a bright smile on her face, showing her teeth to the brothers. “My turn. How far are you into your pregnancy?”

Stanford's eyes widened at her response. A theif? No wonder she was an associate of his brother's. How in the hell did he seriously believe she can be trusted to help them?

"Hrum." he clears his throat. "I um, two months. Two months and one week."

She nodded and closed her eyes. “So you’ll probably be due between...late August to mid September, depending. Okay, that’ll give us time.” She opened her eyes and motioned for Ford to continue. “What’s your question?”

"If you are a...thief, as you so boldly state, how did you come to obtain medical knowledge?"

Arthuria laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck.

“That’s… that’s a long story that’s more suited with a couple of beers. The short version is… being a medic was the only way I could survive Bastogne and the… Battle of the Bulge.“ She shot the twins a shy smile before switching her attitude to a more cheerful one. “What are your eating habit?”

Perturbed, Ford glanced at his brother, as if to silently ask if he should question her about that. Stanley shook his head.

"My eating habits are...sufficient." he responds.

"That's a load of bullshit." Stan reprimanded. "Your eating habits suck."

"They do not. I have been eating healthily."

"Going nearly a month without eating isn't healthy, Poindexter. Even you should know that."

Arthuria tilted her head.

“A month? While you were carrying?” She pointed to his stomach with a worried look on her face. “Am I to assume you just… drank liquid during that time?” Arthuria stood up and took a step forward, her metal boots clicking loudly on the wooden floor.

"Coffee, specifically." Stan answered for his twin.

"That's really not good. Not just the not eating, but ingesting a whole lot of caffeine can harm the baby as well."

Ford crossed his arms over his chest and pouted. “I-I didn’t know for sure at that time I was… And I had some other more present matters to take care of.” He turned away to face the wall.

“Well coffee is gonna have to go, even de-caffe. It’ll harm the baby in more ways than you can imagine. Unless you aren’t planning to keep it?” She said that last part barely above a whisper.

The six fingered scientists heard her words nonetheless, and stiffened slightly, quickly losing himself in deep thought over her question. Did he want to keep it? I mean, he'd been going through the motions of preparing for the inevitable end of the world and trying to stop Bill that he hadn't paid much mind to the pregnancy. And during the past week with Stan here, he's just been assuming that he would have to have the child. But if there now was an option in the matter, does he really want to go through with it?

“Look, I’m only saying this because… Raising a kid is a big responsibility. It’s not some project you can discard once you're bored with it. I don’t know if you’ve realized it yet, but… a life is growing inside of you and it’s gonna come out one way or another.” A look of horror crossed her face and she looked at the pregnant men straight in the eyes. “I’ll need to look at your pelvis.”

"M-my pelvis? Why?" Ford questioned owlishly.

"Yeah. You'd only have to look at someone's pelvis if they were going to give birth naturally. And it's not like Ford can." Stan paused for a moment, wincing. "Can he?"

“That’s why I wanna look at it. I don’t know the extent of the… flower’s power. Obviously it created some sort of uterus inside of you to carry the baby… but I don’t know if it changed you in other ways.” She crouched down in front of Ford resting a cold hand over his clothed belly. “There’s a reason only women give birth. Men’s pelvis' are too narrow to let a baby’s head pass.”

Stanford shifted uncomfortably at both her touch and words. "Aside from the, um...ability to carry and symptoms, I haven't noticed any other...physical changes of my body. None external."

"It still wouldn't hurt to be sure." the ginger woman said.

A cheeky smile spread accros Stan’s face.

“Looks like we are in for an improvised hospital visit.” He said while resting and squeezing his twin’s shoulders. “Unless you have some sort of X-ray machine lying around?”

"I do, actually. I built one a while back to observe the pace of which Fiddleford's arm healed." Ford stated, standing from his seat to look for said item.

"What was wrong with his arm?" the grifter asked.

"It was broken while we were studying a Gremoblin." he responded nonchalantly, sifting through one of the kitchen sink cabinets.

Arthuria rosed from her crouched position and tilted her head.

“And it worked?” She asked incredulously. She turned to look at Stan. “What is your brother? I thought you said he was a scientist?” she pointed a thumb toward Ford.

"I am, but I also build inventions. Some for personal use, and others that I'm paid to construct. Ah-ha!" Ford exclaimed triumphantly, pulling a small handheld device with a screen in the center. "For example, I also have a prototype mind control tie Regan's masters requested I make. So that they could control what he said during meetings and political gatherings. He had a bad habit of getting off topic."

“Yeah, like that sounds like a good idea…” She deadpanned while her hat actually jumped a little.

Ford froze in place for a moment wondering how it had happened. The rest of her body hadn’t make any movement that would result in her hat moving on it’s own. There was something going on under her hat.

Stan just stared at the device in his brother’s hands. “And it works? This thing can take X-rays?”

"Yes. All you have to do is press this button to scan the selected area, wait a moment for the xray to analyze, and then it will pop up on the screen." the six fingered man explained, turning the machine on and handing it to Arthuria.

She carefully grabbed it between her hands and turned the device over, giving it a thorough once over. She brought it close to her face, the object facing her, and it bumped with the cap of her hat, making the back of it rise slightly from her head. As she scrunched her face in concentration, her finger slipped and pressed the scan button. There was a flash of bright light, making her jump and nearly dropping the device on the floor.

“Crap! The switch is sensitive!” She exclaimed while setting it on the table, blinking rapidly. “Crap. Can’t see much of anything now.”

As Arthuria went to scrub at her eyes to rid them of the dots clouding her vision, she unknowingly shoved her cap back. Stanford noticed only when something within her hair seemed to retreat backwards. He squinted, adjusting his glasses to be sure he wasn't seeing things.

Just near the end of where her cap rested, he could see a small lump burrowed in her ginger locks. It was a little darker than her hair and seemed to be the length of a hand. The lump twitched slightly as the thief brought her hands back away from her eyes.

Stan just laughed at her antics, holding his mid-section and trying to catch his breath. “Oh man! You haven’t changed a bit, have ya!” He managed to say between the laughing spree.

Arthuria just snarled at him and adjusted his hat on her head. The flash of teeth was short, but Ford could have swore he saw two of them were quite pointy, like that of a canine. He wanted to question herabout it, when his X-ray machine beeped and a picture of Arthuria’s skull started to appear.

"Uh, why does your skull appear to have holes near the top of the cranium?" Ford questioned, peering down at the screen.

"Huh?" Arthuria turned her gaze down to the screen, eyes going slightly wide.

"They look like the ones for your ears. But-" The ginger haired woman didn't give him a chance to finish his train of thought, clicking a button on the device that caused her xray to disappear.

"Whoops! Sorry, I have clumsy fingers." Arthuria said nervously, wiggling her fingers for emphasis.

This caused the scientist to hurumph in suspicion.

“Clumsy fingers aren't a good quality to have as a thief.” He said while checking the device to make sure it had still saved the picture for him to look at later.

"Eh, what can I say? I do better in situations where I'm underpressure. That's why I'm great at my job." she said, brushing the incident off.

Stan clapped his hands together and cleared his throat, bringing the attention back to him instead on the two hot heads starring at one another. “So can she use that machine or not to look at your… pelvis or do we need to go to a hospital?” He asked in a casual tone.

"Yes, it can be used to view one's...pelvis." Ford replied, eye twitching.

"Okay, great. Then, let's get it over with."

Sighing, Arthuria took back the device and turned to face Stanford. She looked him up and down before shrugging. “You’re gonna have to loose the pants.” She deadpanned.

A bright blush overtook the elder twin's face, sputtering indignitly. "I-is that really necessary?!"

"You should know how xrays work. After all, you built one." Arthuria said, quirking an eyebrow.

Stanford blinked owlishly a few times before he realized the truth of her words. It’s true the metal buckle on his belt and buttons on his pants could altered the results and obstruct view of what she was looking for. Begrudgingly, he started to undo his belt and dropped his pants to the floor shortly after. He crossed his arms over his chest subconsciously to avoid covering his boxer-claded netheregions.

“Just get it over with.” He hissed through clenched teeth.

Arthuria crouched down at arms length from Ford, giving him as much distances as she could and raised the device again. She glanced upward toward him.

"Just so you know, I’ve seen worse than a grown man in undies.” She hastily took a picture with the device, raised back up and sat at the table to wait for the picture to appear.

Stanford slowly crouched down to pick up his pants and started putting them back on, clinging to the last remains of dignity he still had. He noticed how his brother kept hovering around him and brought one of the chairs closer for him to sit in. Ford frowned, but accepted the offered chair.

“I’m not an invalid, Stan. I can walk around just fine.” He whispered.

Stan just raised his hands in a peaceful manner, stepping away from the chair. “Sorry, sorry… just wanted to help.” He said in a voice just as quiet as Ford’s.

The elder twin’s shoulders dropped. He hadn’t meant hurt his brother's feelings, he just didn’t want to be treated like a sick or infirm person. He wasn’t ill, not completely. He opened his mouth to reassure his twin when they both heard a surprised exclamation come from the other side of the room. Turning their heads, they both saw Arthuria stand up and walk over to them.

“I’ve got some good news and bad news.” She said in a serious tone, the X-ray screen turned toward her. “The bad news is you’re gonna need a C-section. No matter what your decision is, that baby isn’t coming out… the usual way. Your pelvis is still too narrow for a baby's head to fit.” She explained.

"Okay, so what's the good news?" Stanford asked, examining his pelvic xray.

Arthuria smiled softly and pointed to a blurry spot on the screen. It wasn’t very clear, but a bright little dot stood in the middle of the picture. It was round and yet, very deformed,. It resemble a grotesque attempt at sketching a peanut, with little strings attached to it. It had dark spots on it. Ford squinted at the picture, trying to process what she was pointing at.

“The baby looks healthy and in good condition.” She tapped the screen again, precisely on one of the darker spot around the clearer dot. “Pretty sure that’s it’s heart.”

Both twins stared in awe at the small dot that was a baby. Stanford's baby. Stanley's niece/nephew. The eldest took the device from Arthuria and placed his thumb delicately over the dot, lightly running it over the image.

“Surreal, isn’t?” Arthuria said with a soft voice. “You can see the heart, the head and the little noodles are probably it’s limbs developing.” She explained as she pointed to the different parts of the fetus.

Stan nodded but didn’t take his eyes off the little white spot on the screen. “It’s barely the size of a peanut…” Stan whispered.

"Yeah, it'll get bigger as the months progress. By the end of the third month, the baby should be around the size of a lemon." the ginger informed.

She cleared her throat and looked at the brothers with a worried expression.

“Passed that… point, it’ll be harder and more dangerous to remove it. If you decide not to keep it.” She said in a matter of fact.

Throughout the exchange, Ford didn’t say a word. He was too focus on the little dot he could see in the middle of the screen, between his hip bones.

Stan glanced at his twin after a while of him not saying anything. "Ford?"

"I-I...I don't-I still need to think about...this." he finally sputtered out, eyes never leaving the screen.

Stan and Arthuria both nodded in understanding. She tapped his shoulder to get his attention.

“I think my check up for today is complete. I still want to get my hands on some hospital equipment in the near future. There are a few things I would like to check with proper equipment, but it can wait for now.” she said and exited the room, leaving the two brothers to sort out their thoughts.

A few moments later, her footsteps could be heard echoing around the quiet house as she climbed the stairs back to her room. Both twins were still looking at the screen.

“Heh, your own little peanut there, Sixer.” Stan chuckled.

Stanford sighed, rose up and, after a long moment, finally placed the device on the table, monitor screen facing down. He then turned to his brother.

“Stanley, I can’t think about… about what’s growing inside of me with the threat of Bill still looming above my head!” He exclaimed, hands splaying wide on each side of him.

"Oh yeah. That guy." Stan grumbled.

"He's not just 'that guy,' Stanley! He's an interdimensional demon with a gateway to our universe sitting in the basement!"

"Then why don't we just destroy the portal? Wouldn't that solve the problem?"

Pacing back and forth in the small space that was the kitchen, Ford grabbed his hair, tugging at it.

"It’s not that simple! That would only solve half of my problem!” He turned to face Stan and glared. “I gave him access to my mind and body, Stanley! Until the end of time! Destroying the portal… it won’t be enough! And with you here and now your friend! It’s only a matter of time before he acts!”

"Well, it's safe in here for now." Stan said, motioning around them. "I mean, we did put up that unicorn voodu barrier so he couldn't get in here. And so far, he hasn't hijacked your body again."

“But it’s only a matter of time!” Ford went on as he kept on rambling. “He is a demon. He would stop at nothing to get what he wants! And he wants me! The barrier keeps him out of the house and by proxy, my head, but there’s no telling if it would keep him outside if he decidestopossesssomeoneelseandgetin. Themagicisstronbutwoulditbestrongenoughtokeepanallpowerfulbeingsuchashim…” Stanford’s breath became short and he soon found himself gasping for air.

"Breathe, Stanford. No need in getting yourself all worked up." Stan said, patting his twin's back.

Ford pulled himself from the other's touch, glaring. "Don't patronize me, Stan."

"I'm not, I'm just tryin' to get you to calm down." Stan placated.

“I am calm!”

Stan crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at his twin. “Yeah, you reek serenity and balance. Especially at that moment.”

"Well, excuse me if my version of calm isn't to your liking." the scientist said sarcastically. "But I have a huge weight on my shoulders right now."

"Then let me bare some of it, that's what I'm here for! So you don't have to go through any of this alone." Stan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “That’s why I called Arthuria in the first place. I don’t know what happened, but we can’t do this alone. We need help and… I know you don’t trust her, but having her here is better than nothing.” He said calmly.

Hopefully his brother’s outburst was due to the hormones coursing through his system and seeing him calm would sooth Ford. Amd it seemed to do the trick, the tension seeming to drain from Stanford as he let out a weary sigh.

"I know, I know. There's just too much going on and I feel overwhelmed." he scrubbed a hand down his face, displacing his glasses from their perch on his nose.

Stepping forward, Stanley placed a reassuring hand on his elder brother's shoulders.

“Yeah, it’s a lot. But we’ll get through it together.” He offered him one of his hand, a bright smile on his lips. “Where ever we go, we go together, remember?” he asked, a worried frown on his features.

"I..." Ford looked hesitantly from his brother's face to his offered hand, before suddenly backing up and turning away. "We need to come up with a fool proof plan the defeat Bill. In order to do that, I need to review my notes. Dig up as much information on him as I can."

Stan sighed and his shoulders dropped, defeated. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and turned around, leaving his brother alone for the time being.

"Then, let's get started." he whispered.

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alextwdgf01 · 2 years

Text

The Restoration Of Eroded Soils: A Checkup From A.B. Normal

Chapter 5

"Well, you're obviously suffering from malnutrition and sleep-deprivation. But all things considered, it could be worse." Arthuria stated as she took observations of Ford's current physical health. "Yeah, well you didn't see him when I first got here. He was a few pounds away from bein' a skeleton." Stan said, poking at his brother's ribs, only for his hand to be slapped away with a grumble. "He seems to have put on quite a bit of weight since then." "Most of that is baby fat." Stan smirked. Ford's face heated up in slight embarrassment. "Shut up, Stan." The ginger haired woman tutted. "It can't just be baby fat. That wouldn't be healthy for either of you." Arthuria's words gave the elder twin pause for confusion. Ford frowned. "What does my...fat have to do with Stan's health?" he questioned. "I was talking about you and the baby." Arthuria replied bluntly. Ford tensed, becoming flabbergasted by her knowing of his pregnancy. His expression was alight with surprise and slight hysteria as his eyes flashed over to Stanley. "I-bu...I-I-Stanley! Did you seriously tell her about the-the situation?!" "He didn't have to." Arthuria cut in. "You smell of hormones." This gave the young scientist even greater pause, trying to process her words. "You...you can smell hormones?" Ford asked owlishly. The young ginger nodded, nose wrinkling up in sudden disgust as she looked around the living room. "Yeah, and more. What the hell happened in here? Smells like somebody died." "Things got a little...out of hand around here." Ford chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll say." Arthuria lifted her satchel into her lap, cocking her head to the side as she regarded the six fingered twin. "So, how'd you end up pregnant? I never took biology in school, but last I checked, men aren't capable of carrying. " "I, uh..." Ford looked over to Stan uncertainly, reluctant to answer. Stan nodded to Arthuria, wordlessly saying he could tell her. "...I study the supernatural, the oddities here in this town. During an outing two months ago, I discovered an intriguing patch of angiosperms I'd never seen before. As I got closer to inspect them, they expelled a mist of pollen all over me and I accidentally breathed some of it in." Ford explained, muttering to himself about how his allergies had been terrible for the rest of the week before continuing. "After a week, I hadn't had any ill side effects, so I wrote it off. But then I started experiencing what would be clarified as early pregnancy symptoms, and well..." There was a beat of silence as the scientist awkwardly trailed off, before a cackling laughter filled it. Ford flinched, feeling his heart rate spike up at the sudden outburst from the ginger (too, because it reminded him of Bill's laughter). Stan himself even gave her a questioning look at her reaction to his story. Arthuria just continued her unexplained fit, slapping her knee. All the while, Ford noticed her cap slip down slightly to one side, revealing what appeared at first glance as a tangled knot of slightly darker hair. But it appeared strange. The "knot" was almost triangular in shape and...was it twitching? Before he could further contemplate this, Arthuria was beginning to calm down, reaching up to readjust her cap as she caught her breath. "Sorry, sorry." she gasps in a few breaths, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. "It's just, I was imagining what you face musta looked like when you first found out you were pregnant." "If it was anything like the time he realized he'd forgotten to turn the oven off and our parent's apartment almost burned down, he probably looked like this." Stan said, proceeding to imitate Ford's expression at that time. The two busted out laughing, all the while Ford hurumphed embarrassedly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, I'm glad my current predicament gives you both such joy." "Hey, I'm just tryna light'n the mood here. The situation's pretty weird, bro." Stan chortled. "But ya don't have ta get all grumpy about it." "I believe

that may be his hormones. They can cause a wom-er, individual during pregnancy to become easily agitated or overly emotional." Arthuria said as she pulled a rolled up magazine out of her bag, bringing into view for both brothers to see. "It's all in here." Ford gave the cover a scrutinizing look, before his eyes darted back to the woman's. "Stan neglected to say, but are you an obstetrician?" he asked, almost wary. "Nnnooooo...but I have performed a c-section before!" Arthuria responded proudly. "Was it successful?" The ginger waved her hand in a so-so gesture. Ford face palmed, turning towards his brother beside him. "Where did you find her?" Ford asked, irritation slipping into his voice. "I didn't. She found me." the younger twin responded. "This is insane. She doesn't even know anything about childbirth, and probably doesn't know much about prenatal care either! I thought you said she could help?!" ----edit below---- “She can! In more ways then you can possibly imagine!” Stan said, his voice starting to raise dangerously. Both twins were now staring at one another, frowning. "Please, partel how she can possibly help?" Ford huffed out annoyedly, before turning to Arthuria with a slightly less annoyed frown. "No offense." She raised an eyebrow. “Huh, I’ll take the offense.” She said while crossing her arms over her chest. ”Listen, I came here because I like Stan and I owe him one. I barely know anything about you, just that you’re Stan’s brother and got yourself impregnated.” The small group stayed quiet for some time, mulling over what the others had said. Finally, Stan sighed and passed a hand over his face. “How about we play twenty questions?” He suggested. Ford rolled his eyes. "Seriously?" "What? You're the one who can't stop asking how trustworthy and helpful Arthuria is. It's the only thing I could think of." Stan muttered, crossing his arms. “I don’t mind.” Arthuria shrugged while uncrossing her arms. “I’ll even give you the first one.” She sat back on her chair, making herself comfortable, her bag resting back next to her chair. The eldest twin pondered to himself for a moment, brows scrunched up in concentration. "What is your exact line of work?" Ford finally asked. Arthuria thought for a moment, raising a hand to her chin in deep thought. “Mmm… thief. People need some things from somewhere and I offer my service to… retrieve said things. At a certain price.” She answered with a bright smile on her face, showing her teeth to the brothers. “My turn. How far are you into your pregnancy?” Stanford's eyes widened at her response. A theif? No wonder she was an associate of his brother's. How in the hell did he seriously believe she can be trusted to help them? "Hrum." he clears his throat. "I um, two months. Two months and one week." She nodded and closed her eyes. “So you’ll probably be due between...late August to mid September, depending. Okay, that’ll give us time.” She opened her eyes and motioned for Ford to continue. “What’s your question?” "If you are a...thief, as you so boldly state, how did you come to obtain medical knowledge?" Arthuria laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s… that’s a long story that’s more suited with a couple of beers. The short version is… being a medic was the only way I could survive Bastogne and the… Battle of the Bulge.“ She shot the twins a shy smile before switching her attitude to a more cheerful one. “What are your eating habit?” Perturbed, Ford glanced at his brother, as if to silently ask if he should question her about that. Stanley shook his head. "My eating habits are...sufficient." he responds. "That's a load of bullshit." Stan reprimanded. "Your eating habits suck." "They do not. I have been eating healthily." "Going nearly a month without eating isn't healthy, Poindexter. Even you should know that." Arthuria tilted her head. “A month? While you were carrying?” She pointed to his stomach with a worried look on her face. “Am I to assume you just… drank liquid during

that time?” Arthuria stood up and took a step forward, her metal boots clicking loudly on the wooden floor. "Coffee, specifically." Stan answered for his twin. "That's really not good. Not just the not eating, but ingesting a whole lot of caffeine can harm the baby as well." Ford crossed his arms over his chest and pouted. “I-I didn’t know for sure at that time I was… And I had some other more present matters to take care of.” He turned away to face the wall. “Well coffee is gonna have to go, even de-caffe. It’ll harm the baby in more ways than you can imagine. Unless you aren’t planning to keep it?” She said that last part barely above a whisper. The six fingered scientists heard her words nonetheless, and stiffened slightly, quickly losing himself in deep thought over her question. Did he want to keep it? I mean, he'd been going through the motions of preparing for the inevitable end of the world and trying to stop Bill that he hadn't paid much mind to the pregnancy. And during the past week with Stan here, he's just been assuming that he would have to have the child. But if there now was an option in the matter, does he really want to go through with it? “Look, I’m only saying this because… Raising a kid is a big responsibility. It’s not some project you can discard once you're bored with it. I don’t know if you’ve realized it yet, but… a life is growing inside of you and it’s gonna come out one way or another.” A look of horror crossed her face and she looked at the pregnant men straight in the eyes. “I’ll need to look at your pelvis.” "M-my pelvis? Why?" Ford questioned owlishly. "Yeah. You'd only have to look at someone's pelvis if they were going to give birth naturally. And it's not like Ford can." Stan paused for a moment, wincing. "Can he?" “That’s why I wanna look at it. I don’t know the extent of the… flower’s power. Obviously it created some sort of uterus inside of you to carry the baby… but I don’t know if it changed you in other ways.” She crouched down in front of Ford resting a cold hand over his clothed belly. “There’s a reason only women give birth. Men’s pelvis' are too narrow to let a baby’s head pass.” Stanford shifted uncomfortably at both her touch and words. "Aside from the, um...ability to carry and symptoms, I haven't noticed any other...physical changes of my body. None external." "It still wouldn't hurt to be sure." the ginger woman said. A cheeky smile spread accros Stan’s face. “Looks like we are in for an improvised hospital visit.” He said while resting and squeezing his twin’s shoulders. “Unless you have some sort of X-ray machine lying around?” "I do, actually. I built one a while back to observe the pace of which Fiddleford's arm healed." Ford stated, standing from his seat to look for said item. "What was wrong with his arm?" the grifter asked. "It was broken while we were studying a Gremoblin." he responded nonchalantly, sifting through one of the kitchen sink cabinets. Arthuria rosed from her crouched position and tilted her head. “And it worked?” She asked incredulously. She turned to look at Stan. “What is your brother? I thought you said he was a scientist?” she pointed a thumb toward Ford. "I am, but I also build inventions. Some for personal use, and others that I'm paid to construct. Ah-ha!" Ford exclaimed triumphantly, pulling a small handheld device with a screen in the center. "For example, I also have a prototype mind control tie Regan's masters requested I make. So that they could control what he said during meetings and political gatherings. He had a bad habit of getting off topic." “Yeah, like that sounds like a good idea…” She deadpanned while her hat actually jumped a little. Ford froze in place for a moment wondering how it had happened. The rest of her body hadn’t make any movement that would result in her hat moving on it’s own. There was something going on under her hat. Stan just stared at the device in his brother’s hands. “And it works? This thing can take X-rays?” "Yes. All you have to do is press this button

to scan the selected area, wait a moment for the xray to analyze, and then it will pop up on the screen." the six fingered man explained, turning the machine on and handing it to Arthuria. She carefully grabbed it between her hands and turned the device over, giving it a thorough once over. She brought it close to her face, the object facing her, and it bumped with the cap of her hat, making the back of it rise slightly from her head. As she scrunched her face in concentration, her finger slipped and pressed the scan button. There was a flash of bright light, making her jump and nearly dropping the device on the floor. “Crap! The switch is sensitive!” She exclaimed while setting it on the table, blinking rapidly. “Crap. Can’t see much of anything now.” As Arthuria went to scrub at her eyes to rid them of the dots clouding her vision, she unknowingly shoved her cap back. Stanford noticed only when something within her hair seemed to retreat backwards. He squinted, adjusting his glasses to be sure he wasn't seeing things. Just near the end of where her cap rested, he could see a small lump burrowed in her ginger locks. It was a little darker than her hair and seemed to be the length of a hand. The lump twitched slightly as the thief brought her hands back away from her eyes. Stan just laughed at her antics, holding his mid-section and trying to catch his breath. “Oh man! You haven’t changed a bit, have ya!” He managed to say between the laughing spree. Arthuria just snarled at him and adjusted his hat on her head. The flash of teeth was short, but Ford could have swore he saw two of them were quite pointy, like that of a canine. He wanted to question herabout it, when his X-ray machine beeped and a picture of Arthuria’s skull started to appear. "Uh, why does your skull appear to have holes near the top of the cranium?" Ford questioned, peering down at the screen. "Huh?" Arthuria turned her gaze down to the screen, eyes going slightly wide. "They look like the ones for your ears. But-" The ginger haired woman didn't give him a chance to finish his train of thought, clicking a button on the device that caused her xray to disappear. "Whoops! Sorry, I have clumsy fingers." Arthuria said nervously, wiggling her fingers for emphasis. This caused the scientist to hurumph in suspicion. “Clumsy fingers aren't a good quality to have as a thief.” He said while checking the device to make sure it had still saved the picture for him to look at later. "Eh, what can I say? I do better in situations where I'm underpressure. That's why I'm great at my job." she said, brushing the incident off. Stan clapped his hands together and cleared his throat, bringing the attention back to him instead on the two hot heads starring at one another. “So can she use that machine or not to look at your… pelvis or do we need to go to a hospital?” He asked in a casual tone. "Yes, it can be used to view one's...pelvis." Ford replied, eye twitching. "Okay, great. Then, let's get it over with." Sighing, Arthuria took back the device and turned to face Stanford. She looked him up and down before shrugging. “You’re gonna have to loose the pants.” She deadpanned. A bright blush overtook the elder twin's face, sputtering indignitly. "I-is that really necessary?!" "You should know how xrays work. After all, you built one." Arthuria said, quirking an eyebrow. Stanford blinked owlishly a few times before he realized the truth of her words. It’s true the metal buckle on his belt and buttons on his pants could altered the results and obstruct view of what she was looking for. Begrudgingly, he started to undo his belt and dropped his pants to the floor shortly after. He crossed his arms over his chest subconsciously to avoid covering his boxer-claded netheregions. “Just get it over with.” He hissed through clenched teeth. Arthuria crouched down at arms length from Ford, giving him as much distances as she could and raised the device again. She glanced upward toward him. "Just so you know, I’ve seen worse than a grown

man in undies.” She hastily took a picture with the device, raised back up and sat at the table to wait for the picture to appear. Stanford slowly crouched down to pick up his pants and started putting them back on, clinging to the last remains of dignity he still had. He noticed how his brother kept hovering around him and brought one of the chairs closer for him to sit in. Ford frowned, but accepted the offered chair. “I’m not an invalid, Stan. I can walk around just fine.” He whispered. Stan just raised his hands in a peaceful manner, stepping away from the chair. “Sorry, sorry… just wanted to help.” He said in a voice just as quiet as Ford’s. The elder twin’s shoulders dropped. He hadn’t meant hurt his brother's feelings, he just didn’t want to be treated like a sick or infirm person. He wasn’t ill, not completely. He opened his mouth to reassure his twin when they both heard a surprised exclamation come from the other side of the room. Turning their heads, they both saw Arthuria stand up and walk over to them. “I’ve got some good news and bad news.” She said in a serious tone, the X-ray screen turned toward her. “The bad news is you’re gonna need a C-section. No matter what your decision is, that baby isn’t coming out… the usual way. Your pelvis is still too narrow for a baby's head to fit.” She explained. "Okay, so what's the good news?" Stanford asked, examining his pelvic xray. Arthuria smiled softly and pointed to a blurry spot on the screen. It wasn’t very clear, but a bright little dot stood in the middle of the picture. It was round and yet, very deformed,. It resemble a grotesque attempt at sketching a peanut, with little strings attached to it. It had dark spots on it. Ford squinted at the picture, trying to process what she was pointing at. “The baby looks healthy and in good condition.” She tapped the screen again, precisely on one of the darker spot around the clearer dot. “Pretty sure that’s it’s heart.” Both twins stared in awe at the small dot that was a baby. Stanford's baby. Stanley's niece/nephew. The eldest took the device from Arthuria and placed his thumb delicately over the dot, lightly running it over the image. “Surreal, isn’t?” Arthuria said with a soft voice. “You can see the heart, the head and the little noodles are probably it’s limbs developing.” She explained as she pointed to the different parts of the fetus. Stan nodded but didn’t take his eyes off the little white spot on the screen. “It’s barely the size of a peanut…” Stan whispered. "Yeah, it'll get bigger as the months progress. By the end of the third month, the baby should be around the size of a lemon." the ginger informed. She cleared her throat and looked at the brothers with a worried expression. “Passed that… point, it’ll be harder and more dangerous to remove it. If you decide not to keep it.” She said in a matter of fact. Throughout the exchange, Ford didn’t say a word. He was too focus on the little dot he could see in the middle of the screen, between his hip bones. Stan glanced at his twin after a while of him not saying anything. "Ford?" "I-I...I don't-I still need to think about...this." he finally sputtered out, eyes never leaving the screen. Stan and Arthuria both nodded in understanding. She tapped his shoulder to get his attention. “I think my check up for today is complete. I still want to get my hands on some hospital equipment in the near future. There are a few things I would like to check with proper equipment, but it can wait for now.” she said and exited the room, leaving the two brothers to sort out their thoughts. A few moments later, her footsteps could be heard echoing around the quiet house as she climbed the stairs back to her room. Both twins were still looking at the screen. “Heh, your own little peanut there, Sixer.” Stan chuckled. Stanford sighed, rose up and, after a long moment, finally placed the device on the table, monitor screen facing down. He then turned to his brother. “Stanley, I can’t think about… about what’s growing inside of

me with the threat of Bill still looming above my head!” He exclaimed, hands splaying wide on each side of him. "Oh yeah. That guy." Stan grumbled. "He's not just 'that guy,' Stanley! He's an interdimensional demon with a gateway to our universe sitting in the basement!" "Then why don't we just destroy the portal? Wouldn't that solve the problem?" Pacing back and forth in the small space that was the kitchen, Ford grabbed his hair, tugging at it. "It’s not that simple! That would only solve half of my problem!” He turned to face Stan and glared. “I gave him access to my mind and body, Stanley! Until the end of time! Destroying the portal… it won’t be enough! And with you here and now your friend! It’s only a matter of time before he acts!” "Well, it's safe in here for now." Stan said, motioning around them. "I mean, we did put up that unicorn voodu barrier so he couldn't get in here. And so far, he hasn't hijacked your body again." “But it’s only a matter of time!” Ford went on as he kept on rambling. “He is a demon. He would stop at nothing to get what he wants! And he wants me! The barrier keeps him out of the house and by proxy, my head, but there’s no telling if it would keep him outside if he decidestopossesssomeoneelseandgetin. Themagicisstronbutwoulditbestrongenoughtokeepanallpowerfulbeingsuchashim…” Stanford’s breath became short and he soon found himself gasping for air. "Breathe, Stanford. No need in getting yourself all worked up." Stan said, patting his twin's back. Ford pulled himself from the other's touch, glaring. "Don't patronize me, Stan." "I'm not, I'm just tryin' to get you to calm down." Stan placated. “I am calm!” Stan crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at his twin. “Yeah, you reek serenity and balance. Especially at that moment.” "Well, excuse me if my version of calm isn't to your liking." the scientist said sarcastically. "But I have a huge weight on my shoulders right now." "Then let me bare some of it, that's what I'm here for! So you don't have to go through any of this alone." Stan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “That’s why I called Arthuria in the first place. I don’t know what happened, but we can’t do this alone. We need help and… I know you don’t trust her, but having her here is better than nothing.” He said calmly. Hopefully his brother’s outburst was due to the hormones coursing through his system and seeing him calm would sooth Ford. Amd it seemed to do the trick, the tension seeming to drain from Stanford as he let out a weary sigh. "I know, I know. There's just too much going on and I feel overwhelmed." he scrubbed a hand down his face, displacing his glasses from their perch on his nose. Stepping forward, Stanley placed a reassuring hand on his elder brother's shoulders. “Yeah, it’s a lot. But we’ll get through it together.” He offered him one of his hand, a bright smile on his lips. “Where ever we go, we go together, remember?” he asked, a worried frown on his features. "I..." Ford looked hesitantly from his brother's face to his offered hand, before suddenly backing up and turning away. "We need to come up with a fool proof plan the defeat Bill. In order to do that, I need to review my notes. Dig up as much information on him as I can." Stan sighed and his shoulders dropped, defeated. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and turned around, leaving his brother alone for the time being. "Then, let's get started." he whispered.

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