#again im not gonna fault the localizers they did their best for the mindset of the time of pretend everything is in america

[a-solitary-marshmallow]

Please Don’t See Me - Chapter 12

Ford had not been having a good week.

Well, he was using the term ‘week’ loosely, since he wasn’t actually sure how much time had passed. The last few days and nights had been a blur of calculations and experiments and frustration. Ford had been sure that the mutation (or Warping, as he’d mentally dubbed it, for convenience) would be simple to reverse. Theoretically, it should be! But in practice there were so many variables to account for – not only did he have to know exactly how the physical mutations came about in order to restore living tissue back to its original state with no side effects, but there was the cognitive aspect to consider as well. There was no use restoring Stan to his human form if his mind was still Warped.

The former of the two issues was all but solved. Ford had managed to reverse-engineer the mutation process physically – the insects he had caught and exposed to the Warped crystal fragments, then dunked in hastily-made serum, had returned to their original forms with no permanent physical or genetic alterations. However, they still exhibited behaviour consistent with the Warping and atypical for unaffected members of their species. So even if Ford did try curing his brother Stan still wouldn’t be himself. Most likely Ford would have a wolf freaking out because it suddenly had a human body.

Ford had several pinprick bite marks from the Warped moth that was his last test subject (apparently when exposed to the Warped crystal flecks, moths developed spearhead-like mouthpieces and were unafraid to use them). But since being cured the stubborn insect still held no fear of Ford and had tried (unsuccessfully) to stab him with its now-harmless mouthpiece. That was, until Ford accidentally stepped on it. It wasn’t his fault! Because it was still stuck in a Warped mindset it couldn’t comprehend that its body was once again light enough to fly, so once it had escaped from its jar it had decided to crawl across the floor. Was Ford supposed to watch his every step for stray insects?

In any case, he was left with one part of the equation solved and no idea how to do the rest.

During the standstill in which Ford wasn’t sure where to turn, he had spent some time trying to locate Stan’s car. Stan had mentioned something about his car being around here somewhere and Ford knew it was a shot in the dark but he had to at least try.

He had contacted the local law enforcement department to see if there had been any cars found abandoned around town in the recent months. Luckily they had records of an abandoned car being picked up in the woods some time back. Apparently, since the car had no registration and thus no one registered to own it, it had been sitting idle in the car park of the police station for the past few months. They played cards on the hood. Gravity Falls police were weird.

But when Ford brought the car back to his house (through less-than-legal means) Stan had just looked at it with those dull eyes and then looked back at Ford inquisitively. Of course he didn’t recognise it. He couldn’t even recognise his own name. Ford had been stupid to hope that it would work.

So the car was left parked behind the house while Ford went back to his research. A few things may have been thrown around out of frustration.

Ford had always prided himself on being scientifically-minded, but right now he was strongly resisting the urge to smash things and shout about how it wasn’t fair. Stan shouldn’t just be watching with blank yellow eyes. He should be angry or cheering Ford on or punching him in the face or something. He should be Stan. Instead he was stuck as some animal and the more Ford thought about it, the more he realized that it was his fault.

The wolf that wasn’t quite Ford’s brother anymore didn’t seem to realize that, though. Had instead tried to take care of him, bringing back prey like Ford was a helpless pup, refusing to eat until Ford did, snarling furiously at any trespassing creatures that came near the house. (From the pile of blood and feathers Ford had found outside a while ago it seemed that the griffins from earlier had come back. They didn’t get very close.)

Stan had even tried to help Ford in shifting his ‘gift’, though they seemed to have different ideas of where the deer carcass should go and it had devolved into another tug-of war – which, thankfully, ended with the deer being disposed of. Ford didn’t know he would have done if the thing had made it into his house.

Ford wasn’t sure that he deserved the care and affection. When he’d first realized what was happening he’d been moved to tears.

But that didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that even in this state, Stan’s instincts were to take care of Ford over everything. It didn’t matter that the attention was familiar – because for the last few months, even when Ford had no idea, his brother had still been watching over him and dragging him out of trouble. It didn’t matter that this made a lump rise in his throat and filled him with a heavy, itching guilt because Stan had been there for him and Ford had not for many, many years.

No, all that did matter was curing Stan; which led to Ford neglecting the piling-up mail and voice messages on his answering machine in favour of working on a cure.

In hindsight, he really should have listened to those voice messages.

Ford froze mid-step at the scene unfolding before him. The last time he’d seen his parents had been a year ago, the family gathering together to celebrate Shermie and Rebecca’s anniversary back in California. Family never came to Ford’s house. What were they doing here?

“Ford! How ya doin, sweetie?” Ma called out cheerfully as she climbed out of the car. Pa already stood on the beaten dirt path with a cigarette in one hand and a lighter in the other. He spared Ford a gruff nod.

“Ma, Pa.” Ford forced out. “What – what are you doing here?”

“Too busy to pick up the phone, as usual.” Pa muttered. Ma tutted and straightened to fix her hair.

“Lay off ‘im Filbrick, you know how excited our Stanford gets about his work! Ford honey, we called and left a message to tell you we’d be around. Y’see, we were drivin’ down to visit one of yer dad’s old business partners and I thought ‘that’s near where Stanford lives!’ So we decided to stop by for a visit, see how this science gig ‘a yours is goin’.”

Pa lit his cigarette and took a puff – the bitter scent of smoke drifting across the yard made Ford swallow hard. The glasses hid his eyes but Ford was sure that his father’s gaze was fixed on Stan, judging by the way the wolf was bristling defensively. An irrational fear flooded through Ford. Their father had been spitting mad since the science fair, how would he react to seeing Stan again…?

Except Filbrick wouldn’t know that the wolf facing him was his own son.

Still, of all the times to visit, this had to be one of the worst! Ford was unbelievably grateful that Stan’s car was around the back. If their parents saw it they would ask all sorts of questions like ‘where is Stan’ and how was Ford supposed to explain this mess? And to their parents of all people. He clenched his fists as his breathing quickened, trying to force himself to calm down and think rationally. What was he supposed to do? Turn them away? Waste precious time exchanging pleasantries instead of working on curing his brother?

Ford was spared from having to speak because a low snarl rumbled out. Pa stiffened, and Ford was suddenly reminded that it was possible the negative feelings between Stan and their father ran both ways.

Stan slunk in front of him, hackles raised and lips peeled back to display sharp yellow teeth. Pa recoiled from the threat display.

“Stanford, get yer animal down!”

“Oh – I’m sorry – he doesn’t really like people-” Ford stammered out, trying to grab Stan’s fur, but the wolf sidestepped him and slunk closer towards Pa. Ma let out a nervous little squeal.

“That – yer dog’s pretty big, Ford. Looks almost like a wolf.”

“Yes, he, um-”

“Look at you! Yer letting the animal walk all over ya!” Pa glowered at the approaching wolf. He really shouldn’t be doing that, why was he doing that? It was only making Stan more aggressive and that wasn’t good he was dangerous, he didn’t know what he was doing-

If he did know, would he act any differently?

“You oughta teach it who’s boss.” Pa continued. Stan let out another low growl and that was it.

“Rebus! Heel!”

Stan hesitated at Ford’s shout, fur still bristling but no longer stalking forward. Ford strode over to grab a handful of that fur and give him a sharp pull away from their father, thanking any and all deities that his brother actually listened to him like this. Stan reluctantly allowed himself to be pulled back. Ford rushed to stammer out an explanation, not daring to release his hold on the werewolf.

“I’m sorry, Pa. Rebus is a… a wolf-hybrid that I’ve been studying. He’s quite distrustful of strangers.”

“Ya need ta beat that outta him.” Pa said gruffly.

Ma gave a strained chuckle. “Ah, I reckon Stanford knows what’s best here, what with all his research on the thing. But Ford honey, are ya sure he’s safe?”

“Yes, of course, Rebus would never hurt me.” Ford kept on tugging Stan back, the wolf complying with a dissatisfied rumble. “I apologize. I’ve been busy with a project, I didn’t realize I would be having company.” Distract them, shift their attention away from Stan. “I – I have some tea inside, would you like to join me? I’ll put Sta- Rebus in the shed.”

Pa shook his head and stepped forward, rolling up his sleeves. “Lemme show ya how to handle a real dog. Ya keep treating it like that and it’s just gonna keep walking all over you. Ya gotta show it who’s boss.”

“No, Pa, please-” But the man had already strode up and grabbed Stan by the scruff of his neck, reaching the other hand around to grab his muzzle and hold him tight.

Stan reacted.

Ford yelped as he was smacked in the face by an explosion of wolf. He staggered back more from the shock than the pain. Ma let out a shriek. Stan wrenched himself free and snapped at Pa’s hand, which was yanked back and only barely avoided the clashing of teeth.

Pa growled and aimed a kick at Stan’s face, but the wolf bit down on his boot and yanked, sending him sprawling on his back. Stan sprang forward onto the burly man’s chest. Ford jumped in to grab those jaws before Stan could snap down, holding them shut with all the strength he had and ramming his shoulder into the wolf, trying desperately to shove him away.

“Stop it! Get off him!”

It was useless, of course – Ford’s strength was no match for that of a Warped, furious werewolf – but it worked all the same. Stan backed off, shaking his head to free himself from Ford’s hands, eyes wide and fur bristling but looking more confused than enraged now. Ford lifted his hands and placed himself between Stan and their father, who was sitting up and spluttering furiously as Ma rushed to him.

Stan made a move to growl at the man. Ford raised his voice.

“No!”

This time Stan growled at him.

“No.” Ford snapped. Stan had the grace to look ashamed.

There was shuffling behind him as Pa climbed to his feet, muttering under his breath. Ford didn’t dare shift his eyes away from the werewolf as he spoke to his parents.

“I think it would be best if you came back another day. I’ll – I’ll be sure to check my answering machine more often, so I can lock Rebus away in advance the next time you come.”

“Now you listen here, Stanford-”

“Just leave.”

There was more grumbling and cursing, but Ma’s fearful voice finally persuaded Pa to get in the car. Ford didn’t relax until the rumble of its engine had faded into the forest and he was, once again, left alone with his brother. He slumped with a sigh.

“Well. That could have gone better.”

Padding footsteps approached. Ford squinted resentfully at a rather confused-looking Stan.

“Since when was attacking our father a good idea? Sure, I don’t imagine you have many positive feelings towards him…” Ford sighed again and pulled his glasses off to rub them clean on his sleeve. “I suppose he wasn’t exactly friendly, but our father has never been friendly! Surely you remember that?”

Or not, as the case was. Ford huffed to himself.

“Well, in any case, I’m sorry for shouting at you. But I wouldn’t have had to if you didn’t try to turn Pa into a chew toy.” He groaned. “Stanley, what am I going to do with you?”

Stan, evidently accepting that he wasn’t in too much trouble, leaned against Ford’s side. He kept his gaze trained on the road. Stan’s posture was still defensive, as if wary for Pa’s return.

Pa couldn’t have come off as such a threat, could he? Sure he was imposing and struck a generally intimidating figure but he wouldn’t actually hurt them.

Well. That hadn’t always been true for Stan, at least. Ford could still remember the horrible day they’d been playing in their father’s shop and accidentally knocked over an expensive vase. Stan had jumped to claim responsibility and when Ford saw him again that evening, the usually rambunctious boy was sporting several new bruises and sans a tooth.

Maybe Stan still held a wariness of the man since then, even in his wolf form. But that was years ago. Pa hadn’t hit him since then, right?

Ford shook his head to clear it. Like so many things, that didn’t matter right now. What mattered was curing his brother. And Ford still had to figure out how to do that! It wasn’t like he could just show Stan a few pictures and hey presto, his memories and cognitive function would return!

…actually, if Stan had recognised their father, that might be helpful. Ford had been acting under the assumption that Stan had only retained a few recent memories – namely, the memories of living with Ford under the name of Rebus. But if Stan had recognised their father in some aspect it would imply that those older memories were still there, at least in some form. Perhaps, if the memories had only been covered over instead of completely overwritten, they could still be accessed.

Maybe, with just the right mixture of chemicals – Ford could add that to the formula, of course – the subject’s mind would be more elastic. If Ford could manage that then maybe the mind would be able to re-write the Warped neural pathways and restore itself back to its original state, no extra meddling needed. The stimulant would essentially act as a booster shot to jumpstart the process. Theoretically of course, but…

Ford snapped to attention, mind already working a mile a minute at the prospect of a having new approach to investigate.

“Come along, Stan, I need to find more test subjects to work on. Rats have fairly advanced minds, correct? And they shouldn’t grow so large as to be a threat during the Warping process. Not as much as you, anyway. Now, I wonder if there are any in the shed… and please don’t eat them this time if I manage to find any.”

 ______________________________________________________________________

Brother was chasing Rebus again! It was so much fun darting around the Underground Place, staying just ahead of the reaching hands. Brother was slower and clumsier than Rebus, but he was definitely trying, all red in the face from shouting and running. He was carrying a little vial of something that he seemed very insistent that Rebus have. Ha! Only if Brother could catch him!

Brother cheated by grabbing a sheet off his workbench and throwing it over Rebus. Rebus got lost in the fabric. It forced him to stay still long enough for Brother to get a hold of his fur, voice scolding.

Brother grabbed his jaw. Rebus tried to shake free but the vial was already being upended into his mouth – the bitter liquid made his lips pucker. He whined and tried to back away but Brother clamped a hand over his mouth and nose, forcing him to swallow.

Rebus did, when he had no choice between that and choking. When he got the awful stuff down Brother let him go and Rebus backed away, hacking and sending his packmate a dirty look. Brother didn’t even look ashamed.

Rebus picked up his head to walk away, resolving not to play with a dirty cheater, but – why was the world spinning so much? His legs wouldn’t support him, what with how the floor seemed to be surging up and down. He staggered and collapsed onto his stomach with an oof.

...that wasn’t good.

#gravity falls #my fic #my writing #werewolf stan au #werewolf!stan #chapter 12