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#and ford's sideburns for some reason
prettyinpwn-blog · 6 months
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underrated ford expressions for reasons idk
sus ford
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"big nose go honk honk" ford
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"drunkenly lecturing people about how vampires don't actually sparkle" ford
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"unimpressed by your 11 PhDs" ford
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"forced to socialize instead of science in a basement all day" ford
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"remembering that time i ate a planet" ford
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"daily reminder that ford is fit af for a man nearing 60" ford
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"give me praise and validation to fix my daddy issues" ford
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"stanley told me not to bother the kids but goddammit i'm so alone after being in sci-fi sideburn land for three decades so here's my thousand yard stare of loneliness as i tell dipper to fuck off yet inside i am yearning for another nerd to breathe free" ford
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"thank god i don't have to talk to my cycloptopus about how i am odysseus years from home, finally returned from war and a life of eating chicken flavored alien tentacle strips for every meal, because now I have Dipper to talk to" ford
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"remembering all the times I stole shit across the multiverse" ford
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"i carry a gun on me at all times because i'm a paranoid old fuck" ford / idk some of you will probably like this shot of his flat old man butt because this is the internet and nothing surprises me any more
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"i'm trying to be intimidating but actually you can tell by the rust spot on this old as shit gun that i got it at a multidimensional garage sale and i hope to fuck it still works" ford
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"my emotional trauma with my brother is being slowly healed by the fact that he finally played D&D with me perhaps I can salvage our brotherhood if he agrees to join my year long campaign and not murderhobo the whole time" ford
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askthestans · 1 year
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Stan and ford pines do you aware that you had fandon of your own who like making fanart about you and do you aware of fanfiction
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Stanley: I dunno, ya might not wanna bring up fanart and Stanfiction in front of Sixer here. Not after the... incident we had a few days ago.
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Stanford: I’ve seen many disturbing things in my life, but that horror we witnessed was beyond even what the nightmare realm could conjure. That’s why I destroyed it.
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Stanley: You’re tellin’ me that you, Dr. Dorktron 3000, who built a portal because ya wanted ‘girls to start talkin' to you finally’, is offended that folks on the internet drew you in a rather generous light, some of them likely including girls? And not just pictures! They write stuff about you, too. I know we skipped out on nearly forty years together, but the Ford I knew as a kid woulda been overjoyed to get that much attention.
Stanford: Yes, but I want adoration for my mind, Stanley! For my contributions to science. My body is merely a vessel for me that I have to maintain on occasion so that I can continue to pursue this world’s mysteries. What use is attention for something I can’t control? I’d rather I be lauded for what I’ve achiev-
Stanley: There it is.
Stanford: What?
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Stanley: *raises voice* Oh internet, don’t make pictures of me! I may be a silver fox and can’t control my studliness, but please notice my big sexy brain instead!
Cut the bull, Ford. Also, you look like me. I don’t mean to brag, but there’s a reason they call me Hunkle Stan. And if the internet can love a chubby old conman like me, well... you’re like the fitter version of that. Put two and two together and it just makes sense.
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*Ford opens his mouth to argue, but pauses. His brown eyes widen and his brows raise, as if realizing something for the first time. The expression quickly leaves, though, replaced by a neutral face. Though anyone looking closely would notice that he is fidgeting with his hands, at first behind his back, then brings them forward and rubs one of his sixth fingers.*
Stanford: *sighs* Alright, fine. I won’t bring out any more nuclear weapons if the internet continues to make art of me... for whatever reason. But it better be fanart that emphasizes my dedication to knowledge, my skill with advanced weaponry, and most importantly, my bold sense of adventure into the world’s greatest - and weirdest - unknowns.
Stanley: A badass, then?
Stanford: A smart badass, to be exact. A scientist who’s as willing to investigate the strange as he is to protect those he loves from it. Something along the lines of this:
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Stanley: Well, internet, you heard the man. Ford wants pictures and stories about being a sci-fi sideburn badass. No more speedos. Though if some were to just happen to show up in my mailbox...
Stanford: Nukes, Stanley.
Stanley: Hey, ‘til you start pitchin' in towards the electricity bill - which is ridiculous thanks to your nerdamagookery downstairs - I’ll do anything I need to to keep this place running. Just think of all the hunkle art and merch we could sell to hordes of fangirls in the gift shop!
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Stanford: Nukes.
Stanley: Pfft, alright, fine! Wet blanket...
---
*That night, Stan walks down the Shack hallway to use the bathroom. However, someone’s inside. Stan is certain it’s Dipper, as he’s the usual culprit when the bathroom is occupied and music is blasting within. However, there’s no BABBA to be heard. Instead, synths and distorted and glitchy sound effects can be heard, as if someone is listening to a science fiction movie soundtrack. A little quieter are the small ‘pew pew’ and explosion noises, obviously made by someone’s mouth.*
Stanley: Hey, Dipper, quit nerdin’ out in there! All that Pitt Cola I drank is kickin’ in and-
*The music stops. Pure silence.*
Dips!?
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*The twins peer around the corner.*
Dipper: Grunkle Stan, I’ve been in the living room for hours.
Mabel: Yeah, we’ve been watching this cool new show called Things are Strange! It’s about this little town in Indiana and there are all these mysteries and hot teenage boys and this cute monster called the Demogorgon!
Stanley: What? Then who...?
*Stan narrows his eyes and puts his fists on his hips.*
Ford? Ford, I know it’s you in there!
Stanford: I’m busy!
Stanley: Even with that permanent stick up your rear I know it doesn’t take ya that long to finish. And what’s with the nerd music? Look, Poindexter, you’ve got to the count of three...
Stanford: Stanley, this is my house! I can stay in my own bathroom for as long as-
Stanley: Two... I’m pullin’ out a bobby pin!
*A loud bang sounds as Ford puts himself up against the door. Stan takes out a bobby pin and unlocks the door faster than what seems physically possible.*
Alright, what are you doin’ in...?
*Stan manages to push the door back to reveal Ford in the bathroom, shirtless but wearing the pants, boots, and oversized goggles he wore when he walked out of the portal a year before. His scars and burns and healed wounds from the other dimensions are on full display. The rifle he had carried back from the portal is wrapped in his arms, as are two of his pistols, latched into hip holsters. His turtleneck and trench coat are nowhere to be found. The only tell of what might have just been going on is that the steam in the mirror from an earlier shower has been wiped away.*
What in the absolute- Ford? What the hell were you doin’ in here?
Mabel: Grunkle Stan, don’t be so rude to Grunkle... *Peers in alongside Dipper.* 
Stanford: *Cheeks turn beet red.* There... there was an eldritch beast that wandered in here. I had to make sure I killed it.
Stanley: Why were you playin’ music, then?
Stanford: I... I needed to distract it.
Dipper: Why’s the mirror cleared off?
Mabel: Wait, Grunkle Ford, were you posing in front of it?
Stanford: N-no! I told you, there was an eldritch abomination in here! Now, clear out while I continue to look for it. If it harmed any of you, I don’t know what I’d do.
*Stan, Dipper, and Mabel glance at each other silently. Stan and Mabel burst out laughing, meanwhile Dipper's eyes get nearly sparkly as he glances at Ford’s guns and scars.*
Stanford: I’m telling the truth! *Pushes them out and shuts the door and locks it again.*
Stanley: Oh sure, Ford. Be sure to put the sci-fi doofus track back on before you continue your epic nerd adventure!
Dipper: For what it’s worth, Grunkle Ford, you look cool!
Stanley: Quit kissin’ his butt, Dipper. Yeesh, keep talkin’ like that and I’ll start thinkin’ you write fanfic for Ford like Soos does.
Dipper:
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C’mon, you don’t think I’d write fanfiction about my own great uncle, would you? What would I write about, anyway? How cool he looked coming out of that portal? How much I hope I turn out like he does someday, all buff and smart and awesome and battle-scarred?
Stan and Mabel: *Raise a brow.*
*Eventually, all three walk away from the door, Stan grousing about having to use the outhouse this late at night.*
Stanford: *Looks at the CD player by the sink.* Sorry old friend, looks like I’ll have to go without you from now on.
*Ford puts one boot up on the closed toilet, adjusts his goggles around his neck just so, then holds up his rifle with one hand somewhat behind his torso, the other angled so that his bicep is flexing. It’s at least another hour of him going through different poses in front of the mirror, some with the rifle, some with only one pistol, a few times with both pistols out. Through it all, he makes pew-pew and explosion noises.
When he hears that the Shack has become quiet, he finishes, nods at himself in the mirror, then heads out to go back up to his room. But first, he decides to go down to his lab to put the large rifle back.
He walks into the Gift Shop to find someone is there. He lifts his pistol and cocks it at the figure.*
Soos: Dood! Put it down!
Stanford: Soos? *Puts pistol down.* What the hell are you doing here this late at night?
Soos: Well, what are you doing here, in the Gift Shop, late at night, looking so... hunky?
Stanford: ...
Soos: ...
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Stanford: Put that down! Wait, hey-
*Soos runs out of the Shack, screaming something about doing it for the internet’s sake. Also, because Stan said he’d pay him for any and all shirtless Ford pictures he could scrounge up.*
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mistrelfox · 3 years
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Well well well, look who’s made an unexpected return. It’s been literal y e a r s since I made art of these two, and they still make my heart expand with all sorts of feelings c’:
(@anyone browsing the GF tag who might’ve recognized me, this is mistrel-fox speaking; I unfortunately lost my original blog 3 months ago due to my own stupid actions, but I’m back now on a new url and want to resume making fanart, so if you used to follow me and are still interested in my stuff, feel free to re-follow (or just follow if you’re new and like GF, Disney and animation in general :3) I’m also currently open for Gravity Falls requests/prompts so send me some ideas if you want! I miss this show and its characters so damn much ;A;)
DEVIANTART | INSTAGRAM | VK
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bllcphr · 4 years
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THE ENDING OF GRAVITY FALLS: HOW BILL CIPHER TRICKED ALL OF US
If you’re like me, when you watched the ending of Gravity Falls there were certain things that just didn’t make sense. For instance, how did Bill fall for the oldest twin trick in the book, and why couldn’t he escape Stan’s mind like he did in Dreamscapers? This, and many more questions made me continuously watch the ending like a crazy person until I could find answers. And I believe I have something that patches every single “plot hole” that is in the ending. Because, to me, these are deliberately placed to get certain fans really thinking. And not by Alex, but by Bill Cipher himself. Allow me to explain.
I believe that Weirdmageddon is still very much happening, and the ending we see in Gravity Falls is all a scene playing out to Ford while he’s inside a bubble of Bill’s creation just like the one Mabel was in.
Why do I think this? Let’s start with some parallels. First off, it always bothered me that Bill could suddenly possess multiple people as he did in part three. It was just weird that he’s able to do this, when it’s said multiple times in the series that Bill can only do this when someone shakes his hand and lets him in. So how did this scene happen?
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He just wouldn’t be able to do it if we’re following the shows canon at all… unless, that is, all of the magic circle friends aren’t real. If they’re all just copies designed to play out in Bill’s mind games, that means he’d be able to control them like this. And we can see that he can indeed do that during the Mabeland episode, and guess what his controlled pawns look like? This.
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But, okay, that’s definitely not enough evidence to say he’s in a bubble. I get it. But when you start looking at plot holes and putting the answer of “it’s because Bill is controlling the ending” then you get a lot more concievable answers. For instance, it bothered me for the longest time that I couldn’t track the memory gun to Ford after Dipper drops it during The Last Mabelcorn. The only other time we see it. is when Soos packs it during the last episode.
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And the next time it’s used, Ford suddenly has it. But how? It wouldve been easy for the crew to add a scene where Ford picks it up, as they showed him picking up the can of spray paint Robbie brought, but they never show him taking it the memory gun. Not even a simple line of dialogue with “I took it from Soos’s bag.” No, instead he suddenly has it. Now, I could’ve believed he picked it up when Dipper dropped it in The Last Mabelcorn, but then why add Soos taking it only to be made into a decoration for Bill? It just didn’t make sense. Unless you remember that in a bubble, whatever the host wants, they get. If Ford wanted the memory gun, he’d have it.
Let’s think about other things Ford would want: The kids to be safe, his brother to be the hero and for himself to be out of the spot light as a consequence for making a deal with Bill in the first place, Fiddleford to have a happy ending, and the world to be saved. And guess what all happens during the ending?
Every. Last. One. Of. These.
Let’s start with some minor details. How there’s almost no repercussions from Weirdmageddon, even when we see things have been destroyed. The shack, for instance. When Bill hits it away, it lands on it’s side as shown here.
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But the next time we see the shack, it’s upright?
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Another thing about the shack, too: We see, in canon credits of the last mabelcorn, that Bill knows the shack can’t be touched. He even says “ I guess I can’t possess anyone inside the shack. So I’ll just have to find my next pawn on the outside.” But suddenly he’s surprised when he can’t hurt anyone inside ? Just one of the things that didn’t make sense.
But now let’s get to some main details: Like how did Bill get tricked by Ford and Stan in the first place? One, Ford’s six fingers are an obvious giveaway. Two, and this is a less important point, but Stan and Ford can just… fit in one another’s clothes? We see that Stan is bigger than Ford throughout the series, so how can he fit? Not to mention they’d have to make those little details like Ford’s singed off sideburns on Stan now.
We see that Stan has Ford’s gloves on before in this screencap,
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but in the finale he can suddenly wear it like this:
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And we also see that “Stan” has six fingers very clearly. And for someone who claims to be an all seeing eye, Bill is really bad at his job. Unless, of course, this isn’t real. And he’s plotting it out.
But I hear you saying slow down Kat, if this even is true then when does Ford get bubbled? To that I reply with consider that he’s put in the bubble when he’s turned to gold for a second time and that everything afterwards is happening according to how Bill wants it. And if you don’t believe Bill is controlling the story now, it even says it in the title sequence.
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And now let’s get to the ending. Bill is “defeated” and everyone is saved, but Stanley lost his memories. Or did he? Because he regains them pretty fast after being shown pictures. At first I thought this was because Disney wouldn’t let Alex end it on a sad note, but consider this, Bill is the one telling the story now. And he won’t let Ford see the negative aspects of what happens in his bubble. As Alex Hirsh says in this clip, Mabeland wouldn’t let Dipper see it either. It’s not plausible. So Stan reasonably has to remember, and he does.
Not only that, but everyone else also gets their happy ending. Fiddleford, the one that Ford feels guilty about ruining the life of, suddenly gets Northwest manor, and the town just doesn’t care about what happened in weirdmageddon at all. Hell, they even give a law that says “Nevermind all that!”
It just seems like everything is too perfect. But if you consider that Ford is inside a bubble seeing all of this, then it makes so much more sense. Bill is making him think that theres a happy ending. And let me offer you some more clues to this before I leave you with one final piece. In the same clip as before, Alex Hirsh also says that Mabeland is capable of time skips. And we never actually see Stan and Ford leave Gravity Falls, only that they’re on the boat in the end. So it’s possible that Bill is getting impatient, and speeding things along.
My last piece, is that in the ending credits, there’s one last cipher for the fans to gobble up. And when solved, it reads “Goodbye, Gravity Falls.” 
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But take a closer look at the screen where it says this. It’s accompanied by Mabel pretending to eat the sun during a sunset. And when I saw this, I remembered another time Mabel was used to signify that the story was getting darker. Alex puts Mabel in a sunset sweater and says that “its used to signify a darker time coming”. But why would that be if this is supposed to be a happy ending? Because it’s a hint. They’ve all been hints that this isn’t over, and Bill is still a threat. He’s the one saying goodbye.
Bill likes to play games, after all. And we’ve seen him be cocky and like to share details of his plans before. So this is him telling us, the audience, that he’s very much still there. But hey… that’s just a theory. A film theory. Thanks for reading !
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mst3kproject · 6 years
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415: The Beatniks
 While I am, it must be admitted, as old as dirt, I am not quite old enough to have any firsthand experience with Beatnikery.  I am nevertheless under the impression that it involves black turtlenecks, round sunglasses, unkempt facial hair, and bad poetry.  None of these make any sort of appearance in The Beatniks.
Eddie Crane is the leader of a small gang of very stupid criminals.  I assume they chose him for the position because he’s the only guy they know who actually started seventh grade.  They’re celebrating their latest robbery when forces beyond Eddie’s control, in the form of a talent agent who looks weirdly like Sir Ian McKellan and a TV station manager who looks worryingly like Arch Hall Sr., conspire to propel him to stardom whether he likes it or not!  Eddie doesn’t want to be That Guy who let fame go to his head and forgot about his friends, so the gang tags along, looking for places to vandalize and people to murder until Eddie just can’t keep the charade up any longer.
I wonder if names like Bud Eagle and Eddie Crane are meant to suggest that these guys can sing like birds.  If so, it would have behooved them to choose birds that are actually known for singing.  Then again, I guess Bud Nightingale and Eddie Sparrow wouldn’t have sounded nearly as tough.
The Beatniks is actually a fairly engaging and watchable movie.  It moves along at a good pace, never allowing the viewer to get bored, but it’s full of contrived situations and awful dialogue spoken by barely-competent actors, so it’s perfect for MST3K.  It’s also got a fair amount going on below the surface for me to analyze, and the songs are… uh…
Well, they’re not good.  They’re not very memorable (except the first one, which sticks in the mind not because of the tune but because of the refrain my sideburns don’t need no sympathy. What the fuck?), they sound more like Glenn Miller than anything that would have been popular by 1960, and the lyrics are maudlin and predictable, but they’re nowhere near as awful as anything sung by Arch Hall Jr.  Tony Travis has a decent set of pipes and I can see him being the Clay Aiken or Josh Groban of his day, enormously popular with little old ladies and middle-aged gay men.
That’s not what we're shown in the movie, though.  If the writers had tried to make Eddie’s meteoric rise to stardom as ridiculous and implausible as possible, they couldn’t have done much better than this (‘meteoric’ is a particularly apt description of Eddie, who shines very bright for ten seconds and then hits the ground real hard).  His success is so sudden and so total, from small-time crook to household name in no more than a few days, that it feels like at any moment we’re going to see a bunch of people stand up and shout, “April Fool!”
I don’t know how these things worked in the fifties, of course, but I seriously doubt talent agents just wandered the wastes signing random people they got into car accidents with.  Most actors and singers have to put in years of work before anybody notices them – Harrison Ford was George Lucas’ carpenter and Demi Moore was a girl of the week in Master Ninja!  With Eddie, everything is just handed to him, and it’s really rather detrimental to his character.  We don’t see him as somebody who deserves success, because he wasn’t depicted as having any ambitions or any desire to reach beyond what he is.  He’s just some jerk who had a stroke of good luck.
This is topped off by the movie’s I Accuse My Parents-like unwillingness to really depict Eddie was a criminal.  The gang’s store robbery at the beginning seems to be something they’ve done so often that the owners are expecting them – the man asks, “don’t you guys ever rob anyone else” and seems more resigned than terrified.  Eddie issues some mild threats but the actual stealing is done by his friends, and as soon as stardom knocks on Eddie’s door, he abandons violence entirely.  It’s his buddies who trash the hotel room and shoot the barkeep, while Eddie begs them not to, as if putting on a suit and tie has suddenly transformed him into a grownup.
Like many 50s and 60’s Rebellious Teens movies, The Beatniks is intended as a warning.  It’s a little more subtle about it than things like Reefer Madness, but not too much.  The message here is that someday, even the angriest of teen rebels will grow up, and when they do, they may find that leaving their pasts behind is not as easy as they thought.  It turns out to be particularly difficult for Eddie, whose bad decisions are embodied in his reckless and violent friends and follow him in a very literal sense indeed.  He wants to leave that past behind for a new career and a more adult relationship, but they catch up with him every time.
I guess this is why Eddie’s rise has to be so sudden – so that he can’t have any opportunity to ditch these people from his past.  That sort of makes sense, but it’s still lazy writing and leaves Eddie with almost no character whatsoever.  Throughout the film he appears mostly as somebody being manhandled by destiny, both his rise and his fall so entirely out of his own control that he’s still basically a victim even when good things are happening to him.
The single most confusing thing in the movie is Eddie’s romance with Agent Magneto’s blonde secretary, Helen.  It’s easy to see why he likes her: Helen may not be what is usually considered beautiful (the Brains compared her to “Donald Sutherland in drag”) but she’s clearly intelligent and sophisticated, well-dressed and good-mannered.  What you find yourself wondering is what she sees in him. He’s not witty or charming and the movie suggests he’s quite a bit younger than she is.
Of course, you’re not supposed to ask that because the women in this movie are not characters, they’re symbols.  Blonde, glamorous Helen represents the glittering world of stardom that Eddie is being ushered into.  Clingy, criminal Iris is Eddie’s past, with its obsession with money and good times.  She still lives with her mother, making her also a representation of childhood, while independent Helen with her own apartment is an adult.
Is this misogynistic?  Eh, maybe, but the rest of the gang are more symbols than characters, too.  The one who stands out most is Mooney, the guy who actually kills the fat barkeep and stabs Agent Gandalf, and then insists he did it for Eddie, since these men would have gone to the cops if he hadn’t. The movie makes it clear that his two victims said no such things, and Eddie is pretty sure that Mooney is lying about it, but the audience may get the impression that Mooney believes it.  He’s terrified of being caught and sent to jail and lashes out at anyone who might be a threat.  Claiming he’s doing it for Eddie is just a way of telling himself that he’s not really being selfish and impulsive.
Some have seen this as homoerotic – that Mooney is in love with Eddie and tries to protect him for that reason, while he’s actually just lashing out at the things that threaten to take the object of his love away from him.  I can definitely see that, but I think what the writers may have been going for is that Mooney represents selfishness.  The movie is saying that the things juvenile delinquents do are out of selfishness – the group robs the store for money and booze, drive the other restaurant patrons out as they seek a good time, and kill the barkeep out of fear.  The same fear selfishly keeps them from seeking medical help for Red.  They spare no thought for their effect on society as a whole, but society is something we are all part of whether we like it or not, and so our selfish acts will eventually come back on us, as they do on Eddie.
The love stories in the movie fit in with this theme, too.  Iris’ love for Eddie is about what he can provide her with – money and songs when he’s just a criminal, and furs and fame once he becomes a star.  Helen’s love for him, and his for her, is unselfish: each wants the other’s happiness, even if there is a personal cost.  Eddie tries to distance himself from Helen when he fears he’ll drag her down with him, she tries to encourage him to do what’s right even if it means she loses him.  If we believe that Mooney loves Eddie, then this love is also selfish.  He wants Eddie to himself, and destroys the things that threaten to separate them.
This is a really bad movie but like a number of other MST3K features, including Manos and The Magic Sword, it’s got a lot for me to get my analytical teeth into.  It makes a great episode not only because the movie is so entertainingly terrible and the riffing so good, but because enough of its seventy-seven minutes made it into the theatre that you can pick out all this stuff and chew on it.  It’s not a movie I would have watched without MST3K, but I’m kinda glad I did.
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Chapter 13:  I Miss Him
Summary:
For once, Ford has a dream that isn't a nightmare. Bill falls suspiciously but thankfully silent. Stan gives Ford some news that brings back shreds of memories.
Notes: Here's a list of the end codes translated if anyone wants to see. I'll update it as needed but keep the newer codes secret for a while after posting them.
Thanks again to everyone for your comments and input!
Warnings: Nothing much to speak of this time other than some good old Stangst with a dash of fluff.
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven (with illustration) Part Eight Part Nine (With link to more art!) Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve More fics An illustration (from part one) The afternoon sun shone bright across patches of grass and dirt as two sets of feet pelted through the clearing surrounding the Mystery Shack.  A third set followed along with a gritty laugh and the splash of water balloons against colorful T-shirts.  "Oh.  Oh no!" Stan said and turned tail to run as the kids chased him with fresh handfuls of yellow and pink balloons.  They disappeared around the gift shop and reappeared from behind a tree on the opposite side of the back porch, spotted in the bright specks of sunlight shimmering through the rustle of pine needles above. Ford watched from the porch and laughed as his brother dove behind a barrel filled with blue and red water balloons.  Stan dug both hands in and rapid-fired them at the kids. Through laughter, Dipper complained, "No fair!" Mabel ducked behind a bush beside the porch.  She looked up to him and said, "Grunkle Ford, tell Grunkle Stan that's cheating!" "Hey," Stan said, "All's fair in war or whatever!" and chucked a water balloon at Ford's head. His eyes widened and he moved to dodge but it was too late.  The balloon hit him square in the cheek and...  He didn't feel a thing. **** He awoke, not with a start but with a smile. When only one eye would open, his heart sank.  He squinted at the shadows on the ceiling of the recovery room, nausea stirring in his stomach as he shifted his wrists.  Why did he bother trying?  He already knew the answer.  Of course they were still bound to the bed's sidebars.  Of course he was still in recovery and his eye was still gone, and worst of all, he was alone. It was his own fault.  He'd told his brother to leave.  He'd callously nudged at Stan's deepest insecurity and, honestly, one of his own, to make him leave, fully believing that it was the actual reason, except... It was never about the money, he realized. He stared up blankly, too weary to bother stopping the tear that streaked down the side of his face.   "I'm sorry, Stan." "Geez.  You humans are weird," Bill's voice echoed through his mind.  Ford clenched his eye shut as if to close out the taunts.  Even so, tears flowed past and a sob wrung his chest.  "I didn't even do anything and you wake up and start bawling like a kid with a skinned knee.  Sheesh, it was just a dream.  Oh right.  Guess It's my fault that it's just a dream.  Oopsie!  Hope your brother's having fun with them today.  That's what you wanted, right?" **** Bill was seemingly silent as Ford recovered, leaving the elder twins with decades worth of fear and misery fueling their unrelenting apprehension.  Stan wasn't sure if Bill chose not to bother with them or if the anesthesia was to thank for Stanford's uneventful trip back to the shack.  Dr. Braum and her assistant had monitored his vitals with compact, portable machines to assure his safety during the drive and finally disconnected the leads once he was safely resting in a nest of plush pillows behind familiar bars. At 2 am, they'd taken advantage of the noises from the construction crew setting up the Shack's fair, using them as cover while moving him into the house and down the stairs.  Stan had led them back up and out, thanking them again for their help and assuring them he'd pay up as soon as he could.  For once, he meant it, and not just because they'd have every right to rat him out to the authorities, or worse, Rico, if he didn't. He slept on an air mattress in the basement for the remainder of the night.  He'd slept there on a few occasions, when Ford needed the company, but with the kids in the house, he'd taken to sleeping in his own bed every night.  It was too risky not to.  If Dipper or Mabel decided to check up on him, or to use his dentures as a fishing lure again, and found him missing, he'd have to spin more lies, remember more garbage.  But tonight, he didn't care.  He could probably say he was outside checking up on progress with the fair equipment if anyone asked and it wouldn't be unbelievable.  Either way, he needed to be there when Ford reawakened. And he was.  Even in his exhausted state, he only managed about four hours of sleep before he sat up, his bottom nearly sinking to the floor through the mattress.  A rustling of pillows caught his attention and he slipped on his glasses in time to see Ford sit up as well.  He yawned and stretched, flexing his hands and wrists, visibly relieved to be free of the medical restraints.  His hand reached up to the gauze patch taped over his eye and Stan held his breath, hoping Bill wouldn't take control and tear it off.  He let out a relieved puff when Ford's fingers simply traced the gauze and lowered back to the pillows in his lap. His head tipped down as his hands trailed across the familiar cotton, jersey, and microfiber fabrics.  "I never thought," he mumbled, "I'd be happy to be back here."  He lifted his head, seeing only a blur of his brother without his glasses.  In a clearer voice he added, "But I am.  Even though he can still get to me here, it feels..."  His voice trailed off with no intention of finish the thought he never meant to vocalize in the first place. "Yeah..." Stan filled in the silence.  Ford didn't need to say it.  After all they'd experienced, the basement was safe and comfortable in its familiarity and privacy, hidden from the view of outsiders, tucked away from judgement and pity. "You made it comfortable here," Ford complimented in hopes of detouring the subject at least a little.  He wasn't lying.  The warm light, the photos plastering the wall, the plants in the corner, the bookshelves filled with science journals and novels, the television, even the makeshift bathroom made the room feel like a home, despite the circumstances. "It ain't the Ritz but...  I tried," Stan said, scooping up Ford's glasses from the floor and offering them to him through the bars. "You succeeded," he affirmed, reaching for his glasses.  He sat back and stretched their strap over his head, finally taking note of his shorter hair.  After adjusting his glasses around his ears and comfortably over his eye patch, he ruffled the nearly buzzed strands at the nape of his neck and the longer curls crowning his head. "I got a mirror here, if you want to see," Stan suggested, lifting a square mirror framed in plastic that was about a foot tall by eight inches wide.  Ford knelt closer to the bars and looked through, moving his head from side to side to get as much of a view as he could.  Maybe he didn't look that much different than Stan after all.  Sure they each had their scars, but for the first time in a few years, he felt like he could see the resemblance again.  The shave and hair cut definitely helped.  His new style was almost identical to the one he'd kept in his youth but, perhaps a little longer on top.  It turned out that his nearly white streaks formed a semi-circular band around the back of his head from ear to ear.  His hands patted his cleanly shaven chin, stopping to trace one of the scars his beard had kept hidden. "Better?" Stan asked, uncertainty edging his voice. "Better," Ford confirmed.  Even if his scars were more visible this way, even if it felt like a child who'd lost his security blanket, it was nice to be well-groomed again.  He'd forgotten how much he'd once preferred his sideburns trimmed neatly and his hair off of his neck. "Hey, Stan..." he said, shifting to the side to look at his brother around the mirror and bars.   Stan lowered the mirror and answered, "Yeah?" Ford wanted to say he was sorry.  Sorry for being difficult while he was in recovery, sorry for snapping at him, sorry for acting like Stan owed him his presence there on that first day.  He wanted to speak up and tell him he was sorry for sending him away again after that, sorry for being so fickle.  Even more, he wanted to tell him that he never meant to mention money, that he had no right, but, the words failed him.  He didn't even know where to begin.  Instead, he simply said "...Thank you." **** Ford sat near the bars of his cell, drooping forward in the TV's flicker as he nodded off every so often.  Of all times, why did his new prescription have to kick in now?  Just a few more minutes.  Let me get through the rest of this episode.  Damn commercials, get on with it!  Ducktective was on the verge of solving the case and someone knew it.  A creepy stranger had been following him and had lurked up behind him with a knife raised, ready to strike... And it had cut to commercial. He shook his head, reaching into his jelly bean bag to find nothing but dust in its bottom.  "Aw, that was the last bag," he grumbled, crumpling it between twelve fingers.  He raised his arm to toss it through the bars but paused, lowering it to his lap and squeezing it between his palms as the screen flashed back to Ducktective waddling through the parking garage, lights flickering overhead.  Ford leaned forward, his hands idly holding the crumpled bag as the knife raised above the duck's head. "No no no no," he chanted, flinching to look away but unable to tear his eye from the screen as the knife plunged down... Into a cake. "Yes!"  Ford cheered, the bag flying from his hands.  "They remembered." The screen flashed bright and right in the middle of the garage was a table with a colorful cake on it.  The entire cast, even the deputy from season one shouted, "Happy Anniversary!" A sloppy smile spread across his face as he watched the animated cast celebrate Ductective's tenth anniversary as a detective, completely ignoring the implications of a real duck's lifespan.  He didn't even mind that the cliffhanger of "The Case of Miss. Felicity's Missing Feline" lingered. The basement door edged open and Stan gave a light knock, startling him. "Hey," Stan said, "sounds like you're watching something exciting." "TV, off," Ford commanded.  He looked toward the door, hoping his cheeks weren't burning too red.  Luckily, Stan backed into the room with the typical covered tray in his hands.  His bottom pressed against the door, his boxers twisting uncomfortably around his hips before he stepped away, letting the door click shut behind him. "Hey, you don't have to turn it off just 'cause I'm here," he said, turning to Ford who seemed suddenly fascinated by the hem of his sweater.   "Oh uh, it's fine.  It was just an old movie I used to enjoy," Ford scrambled for an explanation, arranging the pillows around him as an excuse to continue looking down.  Finally, he glanced up, as if to prove he wasn't at all flustered. "Sure, sure," Stan said, bending over to set the tray down.  "You know, the missing cat ended up-" "No spoilers!" Ford shouted, holding his hands up in surrender. "Ha ha!" Stan ended his laugh with a grunt as his attempt to ease down onto the floor pillow ended in the thud of him flopping into it.  "I knew it.  The kids and I missed most of the marathon today 'cause of the fair winding down but we caught a few episodes before they went up to bed.  Sounded to me like that was the fiftieth episode special, huh?" "It was..." "It only gets better from there!  Turn it back on," Stan said, swiveling around to at least partly face the TV. "TV on," Ford commanded, his voice squeaking sheepishly. "I felt the same way you did about this show until the kids made me watch it with 'em.  But, even though it's ridiculous, it's good, isn't it?" Stan spoke over a commercial whose catchy song invited viewers to "come along" and "feel the fizz" of their brightly colored colas. "Indeed.  The humor offsets the drama perfectly and, despite the cartoonish fantasy elements, it makes you care about the characters." "Yeah, that," Stan chuckled.  He turned back to Ford and the covered tray sitting between them.  "Hey, I brought some food from the fair if you want some."  He uncovered the tray to reveal a question mark shaped corn dog placed on a plate beside the meat cut from a turkey leg and assorted paper cups of condiments.  On a separate plate was a giant pretzel with extra salt and a cup of beer-infused cheese.  He'd even included cotton candy stuffed into a plastic bag, a cone of soft-serve ice cream, slightly melted and tipped upside down into a bowl, and a cup of semi-frozen lemonade. "That's an impressive spread," Ford said, reaching out for the bowl of ice cream that was quickly becoming soup.  He broke off pieces of the cone, dipping them into the vanilla and chocolate swirls.  "So," he asked between bites, "How did the fair go?" "I'd say it was more than a success.  Well, at least for Mabel and I.  I'm not sure exactly what happened but Dipper seemed upset about something.  Kid won't tell me what, though." "Reminds me a bit of you at his age," Ford said, cleaning the last drop of ice cream from the bowl with his finger. "Yeah, maybe a little more than I thought," he muttered, turning back to the TV as the Ducktective theme song played. "Oh, show's back." Stan watched with the odd outburst of laughter while Ford picked pieces off of the corn dog, dunked them in ketchup and mustard, and munched on them without looking away from the screen. When it cut to commercial again, Ford resumed their conversation, "So, how did your dunking game go?" "Better than I thought it would," Stan answered, stealing a pinch of cotton candy, "A few insults and everyone was coughing up cash to try to dunk me.  I haven't done all the math yet but looks like there's a..." "Oh Stanley..." "FAIR amount of profit." Ford stuffed a bite of cheese-dunked pretzel into his mouth to stifle his laughter.  He swallowed hard, cleared his throat and asked, "So what about Mabel?  You said she had a good day." "She did.  She won a pig at the guess the weight booth.  Named it Waddles." Ford coughed, nearly spitting bits of pretzel through the bars.  "A pig?  And she's keeping it?" "Yeah-" "In the house?!" "Uh...  yeah?" Stan said with a shrug, "Guess I should have asked but she was so happy and I didn't think it would be a problem.  I mean, you seemed alright with me keeping Gompers." "I...  I remember saying something to someone about this."  Ford shook his head, clenching his eye closed.  He searched his mind as if reaching for a book on the top shelf only to find half of its pages missing and the other half illegible.  "If I ever see a pig in this house I-"  He squeezed his eyelid tighter, trying to remember what he'd said.  "I'm sending you...  Him?  Back south." "South?  Him?  Who?" "I-  I don't know!  It feels like it's right there but I can't see it.  It was important.  Whoever it was...  I miss him," his voice cut out airily as he leaned forward, cupping his head in his hands, the ache in his heart nearly choking him and he didn't know why. "Can you remember anything else?" Stan asked, his voice gentle, not demanding or interrogating, "Something he wore?  How you knew him? Anything you did together?" "No...  Nothing other than that he was there for me when I needed a friend.  And...  I think we fought and I hurt him.  Badly.  Possibly...  Irreparably." "So, we know it's a memory Bill messed with, then," Stan sighed, ignoring that the commercial break had ended.  "Do you think he's making you believe you did something to hurt him?" "I don't know.  I DON'T KNOW!"  He clutched the sides of his head, doubling over.  "I hate this..." he whimpered, rocking back and forth, "I want to remember.  I feel horrible that I can't remember!" "Hey, hey, it's alright.  It's alright," Stan reached through the bars, resting his hand on his brother's shaking shoulder. Ford wanted to lean closer, craved the comfort of human contact with an ache that knotted his breath within his chest, but he backed away instead, clutching a bed pillow against himself, practically burying his face into it. Stan sighed, retracting his hand.  "Even when that monster hasn't shown himself for days, he still manages to make us miserable," he muttered. "Mmm," Ford mumbled, his eye staring up at the TV, not even registering the colorful characters on the screen.   "I mean," Stan spoke up, "He hasn't actually been around since we got back, has he?" "No," Ford answered, his voice muffled by the pillow.  "Not at all," he continued, lowering the pillow and easing his grip on it.  "Not that I mind but, between this and the pause before our birthday...  I wonder what he's up to." "He keeps saying things about having his eye on some new pawns," Stan pointed out, his eyes darting to the ground as he considered all that could imply. "It worries me.  Who are they?"  Ford wondered aloud, his fingers digging into the pillow as he rested his chin on it. "Is he bluffing?"  Stan added, picking at the cotton candy sticking out of its bag. "It's possible.  It could be a new manipulation tactic.  But we can't risk assuming it is." "I'll keep a lookout for anything um...  weirder than usual," Stan promised. The two stared blankly at the TV, not even registering the events of the show as it played before their eyes.  Their minds wandered, going over the past and worrying over the future, spiraling around too few clues to piece together.  Finally, Ford broke the silence with a sheepish question, "A pig, huh?" "Yeah.  He's cleaner than I figured he would be," he said with a shrug, somewhat glad to change the subject, even if his mind lingered on more disturbing matters.  "She gave me some photos of them together.  Oh!  and I got those ones from the party developed, want to see?" he added, digging in his pocket for the photos. "Of course!" Ford leaned forward, equally relieved for the distraction. Ford looked over the photos, commenting on the party decorations, on how cute Mabel looked in her party fashion, and on how Dipper somehow appeared to be somewhere in the background of every image.  When Stan showed him the photos of Mabel with waddles, he smiled and said, "She looks so happy." "Does that mean?" "Yes," Ford conceded, "It's alright with me if she wants to keep him in the house."
Notes:
Grq'w iuhw, Irugvb. Kh grhvq'w uhphpehu brx hlwkhu.
First one to get the "Fizz" commercial reference in the comments gets their choice of a set of Pines Fluff prints ( 1 2 3 4 ) or a set of Ford prints ( 1 2 3 4 ) mailed to them as a consolation prize for now having that song looping hopelessly in their head.  (See AO3 link for comment section) Edit: We have a winner! ChromaticDreams / @a-million-chromatic-dreams got it!
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minijenn · 6 years
Text
Universe Falls, Chapter 50, Part 2
HAHAHAHAHAHAH HERE WE GO KIDS ITS TIME FOR THE BIG ONE. ANd I really mean that seeing as how this chapter is like 33,000 words long. Seriously what the hell am I even doing with my life anymore??? Still this one turned out HELLA good in my opinion, so I really hope you enjoy it! And without any reason to keep stalling, here it is! :D 
Previous: http://minijenn.tumblr.com/post/171705709469/universe-falls-chapter-50-part-1
Chapter 50, Part 2: A Tale of Two Stans
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The summer sun beamed down upon the murky ocean water, making it shimmer almost as it lapped onto the somewhat dirty shore. For any other beach, a pristine day like this would have seen countless beachgoers and tourists, but Glass Shard Beach didn’t often attract too many of those. What it did attract, however, was a pair of brothers, twins, around the age of 11 or 12, who lived in the sleepy nearby town. Whenever they could spare a few hours, the boys gladly rushed down to their favorite haunt, knowing that more often than not, they’d have the entire beach to themselves to simply run around and explore. A pastime that they were both gladly taking part in.
“Hey! Wait up!” the older of the twins called after his brother, trailing behind him a bit as they ran across the sandy shore.
“Heh, yeah, you should keep up,” the other twin retorted with a sly smirk, still taking a large lead.
“I-I can keep up!” the slower of the brothers called a bit breathlessly, though he stopped alongside his twin as they reached something neither of them had seen before: a small, closed-off cave. “Whoa!”
“Neato!” the younger twin exclaimed, aptly excited by such a find.
“A mysterious, boarded cave!” the older twin grinned, just as intrigued as his brother. “It might be filled with lost prehistoric life forms! Or Mesoamerican gold!”
“Or a dead body!”
“Why would you want to find a dead body?”
The younger twin shrugged, matching his twin’s rather bemused smile. “You gotta admit it’d be kinda cool.”
“…Yeah, I guess it would be.”
“So, ladies first,” the younger twin’s grin widened as he pushed his brother forward a bit. The older of the two laughed at this, giving his brother a playful punch on the arm, one that was quickly returned as the pair moved up to the cave itself. As it turned out, the entrance was boarded up quite securely to keep any trespassers out, hence why the older twin’s attempt at pulling them away only resulted in him falling backwards into the sand, much to his brother’s amusement.
“Ha! Good thing you’ve got your smarts, poindexter. I’ve got the other thing. What’s it called? Oh right! Punching!” And he proceeded to do just that, launching his fist through the boards and breaking a sizable opening through the wood, despite the pieces of the board stuck in his hand as a result. “Cool, splinters!”
“Whoa…” the older twin remarked, shining his flashlight into the darkened cavern. “It’s so creepy in here!”
“Hey, don’t worry, bro,” the younger twin slung an arm around his brother’s shoulder as they stepped into the cave. “Wherever we go, we go together. By the way, don’t forget to leave our names so they know who owns the place.”
They both did just that, inscribing their names on the stone wall near the entrance of the cave before they ran off to continue exploring, proudly cheering their last name in unison as they left a subtle, written declaration of their close-knit bond behind:
Stanley and Stanford Pines
Present Day
In the immediate aftermath of the complete and utter upheaval of reality as a result of the portal, the Mystery Shack was still settling back into place, though it was by far much worse for wear. The basement had by far suffered from the worst of it, the machine in complete shambles as everyone gradually picked themselves up and looked to who had just joined them from the other side of the portal, none other than the nearly-mythical author of the journals himself. Still, no one was quite sure how to react to his unexcepted arrival, save for Stan as he warmly stepped forward to greet his long-lost twin.
“Finally!” he exclaimed with a smile so huge and so happy that it nearly brought him to joyful tears. And really, he wouldn’t have been too surprised if they actually fell as he opened his arms up wide to embrace his brother, not noticing the infuriated glare he was receiving from his own twin as he rushed towards him. “After all these long years of waiting, you’re actually here! Brother!”
Before Stan could even come close to hugging the author, however, he suddenly lashed out, swinging a hard and heavy fist that connected with the conman’s cheek and knocked him back brutally, much to the admitted surprise of everyone watching. “Ow!” Stan hissed in pain before looking back to his brother with confused frustration. “What the heck was that for?!”
“This was an insanely risky move, restarting the portal!” the author exclaimed in gruff fury. “What in the world were you thinking?! Didn’t you read my warnings?!”
“Warnings, schmarnings,” Stan scoffed, still rubbing his sore cheek. “How’s about maybe a thank you for saving you from what appears to be, I dunno, some kind of sci-fi sideburn dimension?”
“Thank you?” the author asked incredulously. “You really think I’m gonna thank you after what you did thirty years ago?!”
“What I did?!” Stan retorted just as harshly, his hands clenching into threatening fists as he prepared to act on his own growing anger. “Why, you ungrateful-!” The conman didn’t finish as he launched himself at his brother, fists at the ready to strike though the author quickly and easily evaded his attack. He swiftly restrained the incensed conman, pinning his arms behind his back before slamming him to the ground, but even still, Stan showed no signs of giving up against his clearly much stronger brother. “D-don’t expect me to go easy on you just because you’re family!” he shouted, shoving the author off of him before scrambling to stand once more. The author also rose, ready to fight himself, though before the brothers could throw any more punches at each other, their blows were suddenly blocked off by a sturdy gauntlet on each side.
“Enough!” Garnet exclaimed as both punches simultaneously hit her protected palms. Stan simply backed off at this, sending a harsh glare past the Gem leader and to his brother instead. The author, on the other hand, seemed to abandon his fury as he looked to Garnet herself, his eyes wide with both surprise and recognition as he stared at her in clear amazement.
“G-Garnet?” he asked, catching a look of apt bewilderment from the Gem leader before he happened to notice her teammates standing nearby. “Pearl! Amethyst! I-I can’t believe it! You three look exactly the same as you did 30 years ago!” he exclaimed with a baffled, but still elated smile. “Then again, I suppose that’s not that surprising seeing as how Gems don’t age, but to see such partial immortality in action is downright incredible!”
Despite the author’s apparent excitement, none of the Gems shared in on it as they looked to each other in complete, dumbfounded confusion. Sure enough, Stan had confirmed that this man was indeed the author, but that didn’t mean they had much of a recollection about him given their apparent missing memories on anything remotely pertaining to him. All the same, out of anyone who could have been the elusive author, they had to admit that none of them, not even Garnet, had been expecting him to be Stan’s unknown brother, which of course, was yet another secret the conman had been hiding from them for all these years.
“Uh… do we… know you?” Pearl asked somewhat uncomfortably. After all, this was the man who had written copious notes about all three of them in his journals, despite them apparently not knowing him personally. Though based on how he addressed them, clearly he felt as though he was somehow quite familiar with all of them.
The author took pause at this, his smile fading into surprise as he looked between the trio of confused Gems. “Wha—o-of course you do! It’s me: Ford! We used to work together, remember?”
Once again, the Gems didn’t really know what to say to this claim as they looked to the author, or rather, to Ford in sincere uncertainty. “Uh… well we don’t know about all that,” Amethyst spoke up, still trying to avert eye contact with her teammates in light of everything that had just happened. “But I do know that if you really are author dude, then we’ve got like a ton of questions for you.”
“Namely, how in the world did you amass so much information about us in those journals of yours without our consent?” Pearl asked, narrowing her eyes as she looked to the author rather distrustfully.
“Without your con—what?” Ford asked, now just as confused as the Gems seemed to be. “I always had permission to document the Crystal Gems from all three of you, and from Rose! How do you not remember everything we-”
“Forget it, sixer,” Stan cut in, arms crossed as he rolled his eyes at his brother’s apparent distress over this news. “Those three don’t remember a thing about you. In fact they haven’t for about the past… oh, I dunno, 22 or so years now?”
“B-but why not?” the author pressed, sending his brother a brief glare before looking back to the Gems with much more concern.
“Heck if I know,” the conman shrugged. “The only thing Rose told me was that somebody went and jacked all their memories about you and about all of this,” he nodded back towards the ruined portal. “She never bothered to bring up how or why in any of it. Just like her to be as shady and vague as possible, if ya ask me.”
“W-wait,” Pearl interjected, aghast at such news. “Rose really did know what happened to our memories?! T-then why did she never tell us about any of this?!”
“Well, why don’t you just ask her for yourself?” Ford suggested. “In fact, if there’s anyone who can clear all of this up, then I’m sure its Rose. Where is she? Up at the temple?
The Gems once again fell silent at this, their expressions switching from confusion to despair upon the author’s assumption that the pink Gem was still around. At this juncture, the kids, who had only just been watching everything unfurl in silent shock, finally broke out of it enough to exchange a tentative glance, none of them really even knowing how to react to everything that was going on in front of them. But upon hearing Ford question about his mother’s whereabouts, Steven found that he could no longer really stand back in the shadows and keep the truth silent, especially given how distraught both the author and the Gems seemed to be.
“Um, actually…” Steven began somewhat apprehensively as he stepped forward. “She’s… not around anymore…”
Ford froze at this, looking over to the young Gem with wide eyes of shock upon hearing such a thing. “…What?” he asked, his voice strangely soft and shaken.
“He’s right,” Garnet spoke up, letting out a sad sigh as she adjusted her shades. “Several years ago, Rose Quartz sacrificed her physical form to bring her son, Steven, into the world.”
“Her… son?” the author asked, even more bewildered by this news as he looked back to the young Gem incredulously. “But… Gems can’t… how did she… I… I don’t believe it…”
“Um… well, i-its true,” Steven said with awkward, yet polite smile as he pulled his shirt up a bit to show the Gem on his navel, something that seemed to perplex Ford even more. As a result, the young Gem couldn’t help but feel somewhat guilty, though for what reason he wasn’t entirely sure. Still, he did his best to make an effort to try to set the clearly upset author to ease. “By the way, i-it’s… really nice to meet you, Mr. Author, sir.”
Ford hardly seemed to pay this warm greeting much mind as he placed a hand against his temple, still clearly reeling from this revelation. “I… I never thought that she’d… She… she can’t be gone…” he muttered shaking his head morosely. “I didn’t even get to tell her that I’m sorry for-” The author abruptly cut himself off at this, glancing up to notice the several pairs of eyes watching him, particularly the Gems themselves, none of whom still knew what to really make of him. Which was why he was quick to regain his composure, taking in a tight breath and discreetly wiping his nearly damp eyes dry before he quickly changed took the subject off of the now-deceased pink Gem. “Hm, w-well, it’s… unfortunate that Rose is… no longer with us,” he began with a steadying sigh of apparent acceptance as he spared another glance at the young Gem, this time offering him a slight smile of greeting. “But all the same, it’s a pleasure to meet you as well—er… um… what did you say your name was again?”
“Steven,” the young Gem reiterated with an amicable, patient grin.
“Right, Steven,” Ford nodded, his smile growing a bit, until he happened to notice the other pair of kids in the room, both of them looking to him in lingering amazement. As he did, his dejected manner quickly turned back into an aggravated one as he glanced back over at his brother. “Stan, you didn’t tell me there were so many children down here. And… some sort of large, hairless gopher?” he frowned, glancing over at Soos.
“Heh, I get that a lot,” the handyman chuckled, hardly offended.
“They’re your family, poindexter,” Stan remarked, nodding towards his, as well as Ford’s, nibblings. “Shermie’s grandkids. The colorful one’s Mabel and the sweaty one’s Dipper. You can figure out the rest.”
This news finally seemed to be enough to lift the author’s spirits completely as he looked towards the twins with a soft, but warm smile. “I-I have a niece and nephew?” he inquired, his manner quite cordial as he stepped forward to meet them properly. Excited by the opportunity to make his acquaintance, Mabel rushed forward first, eagerly shaking Ford’s extended hand. “Greetings… Mabel, was it?” he began, working off what Stan had told him as his niece brightly nodded. “Do kids still say greetings? I haven’t been in this dimension in a really long time…”
“Whoa, a six fingered handshake?” Mabel said, clearly impressed as she counted off his fingers to find that, sure enough, there were indeed six on each hand. “It’s a full finger friendlier than normal!”
“Heh, I like this kid!” Ford chuckled, amused. “She’s weird.”
“I… I can’t believe it…” Dipper finally spoke up in a stark whisper at first. For the longest time, he had been so lost in shock, from the portal opening, to Ford stepping out of it, to the confusion between him and the Gems, that he had still been trying to piece it all together and make sense of it. But in the midst of doing so, he had nearly forgotten one very vital thing: that one of the biggest mysteries of the summer by far had just been solved in the most unexpected of ways. “Y-you’re the author of the journals!”
“Oh, you’ve read my journals?” Ford asked, still smiling as he turned to his nephew and pulled the one he had claimed earlier out of his cloak pocket.
“I haven’t just read them, I’ve lived them!” Dipper exclaimed, beside himself with elation as he began to pace around frenetically. “I’ve been waiting for so long to meet you! I-I don’t even know what to say, I have so many questions! I-” He abruptly cut himself off, so overwhelmed by his excitement that he had nearly gotten to the point where he wasn’t able to even physically handle it as he weakly doubled over. “Ohhhh, I think I’m gonna throw up,” he groaned, prompting both Mabel and Steven to rush to his aid as he briefly gagged before trying his best to calm down. “Ugh, o-ok! False alarm! J-just gotta ride it out!”
“Listen, there will be time for questions and proper introductions later,” Ford advised before turning back to his brother. “But first, tell me, Stan: are there any security breaches? Does anyone else know about this portal?”
“No, just us,” Stan assured, arms crossed. “…Also maybe the entire U.S. government.”
“The what!?” Ford gasped, completely appalled to hear such alarming news. And sure enough, this fact still rang true, for the security feed in the other room showed that the swarm of agents had already returned to the shack and were flooding inside under Powers’ command.
“Fan out!” the head agent demanded. “We’re not going anywhere until we find Stan Pines, the Crystal Gems, and those kids!”
“Geez, those guys are still looking for us?!” Amethyst asked with an aggravated huff. “You’d think they’d give it a rest already!”
“Ok, it’s alright,” Ford said with an even sigh as he stepped back towards the portal’s remains. “We’ve got a while before they find this room. In the meantime, we just need to lay low and think of a plan.”
“Yes, and maybe while we’re at it we can try and figure all of this out…” Pearl noted, her expression still filled with dread and doubt at the thought that Rose had been keeping their lost memories hidden from them for so long.
“Speaking of figuring things out…” Mabel said leadingly as she looked towards both Stan and Ford. “Looks like we’re all gonna be stuck down here for a while. So… who wants to tell us their entire mysterious backstory?”
“Yes, I have some questions about all this myself, Stanley,” Ford remarked amidst taking down a few notes in the journal he had on hand. However, what he failed to notice was how confused everyone else was upon hearing him call the conman by such a name.
“Stanley?” Dipper questioned, looking to his uncle in apt wonder.
“But… your name is Stanford…” Mabel clarified with a frown, though Ford was quickly caught off guard upon hearing this as he turned to face his brother sharply.
“Wait, you took my name?!” he asked angrily. “What have you been doing all these years, you knucklehead?!”
“Wait, hold on!” Amethyst cut in, looking to the conman in upset surprise, her former feelings of betrayal towards him all quickly rushing back. “Are you serious?! First there’s all those fake IDs and stuff, then this portal thing, and now you aren’t even who I thought you were?! What the heck, Stan?! Just how many other things have you told me and everyone else over the years that just weren’t true!?”
Stan couldn’t help but flinch upon hearing the purple Gem’s incredibly harsh tone, but his guilt only grew upon catching the distrustful, sour glares from most of the others, including his own nibblings. “Yeah, Grunkle Stan, no more lies!” Dipper asserted firmly. “You owe us some answers. What’s the deal with this portal? Why did you keep this a secret?”
“And what exactly made you think it was anywhere near remotely safe to operate a device that could have potentially destroyed the entire universe as we know it?!” Pearl asked just as hotly, still clearly infuriated over that dire aspect of all of this.
“And what happened between you and your brother?” Mabel asked, mainly just wanting to know why there seemed to be so much bitterness and hostility between her two grunkles.
“I hope all this aligns exactly with my fanfic, Stan,” Soos said staunchly. “If not, I’ll be very disappointed. My headcanons are at stake!”
“Ok, ok,” Stan conceded, knowing that if there was any time for finally coming clean about everything, it would be now, in the aftermath of everything tearing itself apart. “I know a lot’s happened and I have a lot of explaining to do.”
“That’s an understatement.” Garnet remarked rather dryly.
“…And it’d be a lot easier if I was able to do that explaining without any sass,” the conman deadpanned before continuing. “So, here goes nothing. It all started… a lifetime ago…”
1960s
Glass Shard Beach was a small New Jersey town, not known for much save for its rather mediocre salt water toffee. Still, despite its murky ocean, litter-ridden beach, and smog-filled city, this humble setting was home to young Stanford and Stanley Pines, nearly identical twin brothers both around the age of 12. The boys lived above the family business, Pines Pawns, located in the heart of the less than glamorous Lead Paint district, with their parents, who were both natives of Glass Shard themselves. Their father, Filbrick Pines, was, by all accounts, a strict, staunch, stoic, unsympathetic man, one had very little warmth and kindness to offer to anyone, his customers and his family alike. Ma Pines was a bit gentler than her husband, though only really when it came to her sons; her own customers, who solicited her supposed clairvoyance as an over-the-phone psychic, often called her out for overpricing and lying, claims that she had a smooth enough tongue to often easily refute.
As for the brothers themselves, they really couldn’t have been more different. Stanford was not just the older of the two, but also, for lack of a better word, the stranger, in more ways than one. His most notable oddity was by far his six fingers on each hand, a very rare birth defect that was initially visible to just about everyone he met. However, what most were quick to learn about Ford right after that was that he was smart; more than smart really, he was brilliant, with an incredibly high IQ from even a very early age. While he excelled at really every subject academically, Ford found his interest namely in the oddities of the world, in the fantastic or supernatural anomalies he read about in books or saw in movies. He was fascinated in anything peculiar or unknown, and even more fascinated in trying to solve the mysteries behind such strangeness with a passion and zeal far beyond his years. Stanley, on the other hand, wasn’t much interested in mysteries or anomalies, his academic preformance was just barely average on a good day, and he only had a total of ten fingers as opposed to twelve. But even so, Stan carried other, less obvious talents, from his well-gained street smarts to his surprising haggling abilities, which served his father well in the pawn shop downstairs. Generally though, Stan was a bit more of a rambunctious troublemaker, often called out for being a slacker and a goofball, though he hardly cared about his often sour reputation. As far as he was concerned, he only needed one person by his side, and that was his brother.
And for the most part, that’s exactly how things were.
Throughout their shared childhood, Stan and Ford were inseparable, to the point that they were more than brothers, really; they were the very best of friends. No matter what the occasion, they always had each other’s backs, through thick and thin, always ready to stand up for one another or even just encourage one another when they needed it most. Their brotherly bond was practically unbreakable, something that was clear to see from just how much time they spent together. Nearly, every day, the boys set out to the beach, both of them always eager and ready for whatever adventure they came across, for they knew that whatever they faced, no matter how big or how small, they’d face it together.
On this particular day, the brothers had happened across an entirely new adventure, one that had taken them to a previously undiscovered cave on the far end of the beach. After punching through the boards blocking it off, Stan and Ford ventured inside, armed with only a flashlight as they explored the damp, darkened cavern, until they happened across something that, to the two young boys, was absolutely incredible.
“Whoa!” Ford exclaimed as he shined his flashlight over at the rather battered and time-weathered boat they had managed to find. “A shipwrecked sailboat, possibly haunted by pirate ghosts!”
“This is the greatest thing I’ve ever seen!” Stan proclaimed, equally as amazed. “And I once saw a dead rat floatin’ in a bucket!”
“Ew!” Ford chuckled, giving his brother a playful shove. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Huh, you know what this thing needs?” Stan asked, giving the downed sailboat a scrutinizing glance. Ford also looked to it just as thoughtfully, before both brothers ended up reaching the exact same conclusion.
“Flags!”
And so they acted on that idea, using their own shirts as makeshift flags for the ruined vessel as they began to pull it out onto the beach itself, proudly chanting “kings of New Jersey” all the while. It took some doing, but eventually the brothers managed to push the boat onto the shore so they could have better light to work on it by, but their plan was clear: they were going to fix it up to the best of their abilities and set sail to wherever their hearts’ desired. It was an ambitious dream, perhaps even a bit of an outlandish, childish one, but even so, the brothers were intent on making it happen, no matter what.
And so the boys worked late into the afternoon on their new pet project, scrounging up any stray materials they could find across the beach to help them patch the beaten boat back together. They hardly even noticed the hours passing by or the rather impressive sunburns they were both getting in the summer heat as they worked and laughed together, inspired by the adventures they’d someday have on the open sea when their vessel was at last completed.
“You almost done over there, poindexter?” Stan asked, falling flat onto the sand out of exhaustion after he finished haphazardly fixing one of the boat’s many lower holes.
“Give me just a second and… done!” Ford grinned as he pulled his paintbrush away from the side of the boat, looking proudly to the vessel’s new moniker. “I dub thee: the Stan O’ War!” Before the brothers had a chance to celebrate this casual christening, however, their fun was abruptly cut off by a sudden pebble tossed to hit the back of Ford’s head. “Ow! What the heck?” he exclaimed, disgruntledly rubbing the now sore spot as both him and Stan turned to see who had thrown it. Neither of them were really surprised to see that it was the notorious local bully, Crampelter and his two cronies, standing atop the nearby hill looking over the beach as he smirked down at the two younger boys smugly.
“Well, well, if it ain’t the loser twins,” he mocked confidently. “Nice boat. Ya get it at the dump. Ha!” He laughed, exchanging a triumphant high five with his equally snide friends.
“You would know, Crampelter!” Stan growled hotly as he stood, shaking his fist at the bully. “Get lost!”
“Pfft, like you scare me, runt,” Crampelter deadpanned. “Listen, dorks, and listen good. You’re a six-fingered freak,” he began, pointing at Ford, who could only glance down in embarrassment as he tried to conceal his hands. “And you’re just a dumber, sweatier version of him,” he called Stan out next, though instead of being flustered, his harsh glare for the bully only intensified. “And you’re lucky you have each other, cause neither of you will ever make any friends!” Crampelter let out another goading chuckle as him and his friends departed, further calling the twins dorks and losers all the while. All the same, Stan ran after them a few steps, refusing to let such cruel teasing slide without getting the last word in.
“Yeah, that’s right! You better run, you jerks!” he shouted threateningly, though he put his anger on hold upon glancing back at his brother. In light of everything Crampelter had just said, the most Ford could really do was look down at one of his hands in clear shame over something he had no way of changing or fixing whatsoever. “Hey, don’t let those idiots get to you,” Stan hurried to comfort his brother, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder. “If it makes ya feel any better, I heard that Crampelter still sucks his thumb, so if that’s true, then you’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“Yes, I do…” Ford sighed rather morosely, forcing his sights away from his extra fingers. “He was right… I really am a freak… I just wonder if there’s anywhere in the world where weirdos like me fit in…”
Stan’s already sympathetic frown deepened upon hearing this, knowing that Ford being bullied for his six-fingered hands was no uncommon occurrence. Still, even though this kind of teasing happened rather frequently, Stan always hated seeing his brother so down and upset as a result of it, which was how he had gotten so good at lifting him up and comforting him from it over the years. “Aw, chin up, buddy,” he assured with a warm smile as he helped Ford up to stand alongside him. “Look out there,” Stan nodded towards the sea stretching out wide and seemingly endless before them. “What do you see?”
“Um… the ocean?” Ford ventured, not sure about where his brother was going with this.
“Well, duh, the ocean,” Stan rolled his eyes. “But you know what else is out there? The future. One of these days, you and me are gonna sail away from this dumb old town. We’ll hunt for treasure, get all the girls, and be an unstoppable team of adventurers!”
“Y-you really mean it?” Ford asked with a small, but growing smile.
“You know I do!” Stan boldly proclaimed. “It’ll be us forever, just like its supposed to be! High-six?” He offered his hand out to his brother, who gladly met it in their own special version of a high five.
“High-six,” Ford laughed, clearly feeling much better from the usual kind support from his brother. Still, the boys both took one more glance out over the open ocean before they went back to their boat, their shared resolve to set sail upon it together someday ringing as a clear, hopeful promise in both their hearts. A promise that, for as far off as it might be, seemed completely within reach for them both.
And it was a promise they continued to hold onto, even as the years went by.
Stan and Ford sticking together remained a constant throughout their middle school endeavors, their close companionship as apparent to everyone who encountered them just as much as their academic differences were. Ford consistently remained at the top of their class, with grades so high they baffled even most teachers, though despite several offers to skip a grade, or even two, he never did. For if he had, that would have left Ford without Stan and Stan without Ford, an outcome that neither of the brothers really ever wanted to see happen. After all, the boys were both picked on by both bullies and teachers alike so frequently, singled out for a variety of reasons: Ford’s six fingers, Stan’s rebellious attitude, or even the simple fact that they were always by each others’ sides, no matter what came their way. Still, the boys hardly minded their lack of friends aside from each other, even as they entered their high school years, for as long as they had each other, they knew they could make it through just about anything. From failed attempts at romance, to surviving arduous school work, to even just continuing work on the Stan O’ War, which was progressing more and more by the day, Stan and Ford always had each others’ backs. Through good times and bad, through successes and setbacks, the brothers knew above anything else, that they could always lean on each other to get through it all. And all the while, they continued dreaming of the future, of the day when their ship could finally set sail off into the unknown, but shining horizon, where opportunity and adventure awaited them both.
Until one fatefully day during the boys’ senior year of high school, when an unexpected wrench was thrown into the close-knit bond they had always known.
It had started out like any other day, with the twins sitting in study hall as usual. And as usual, Ford was hard at work on his studies, fervently reading and taking notes while Stan casually sat beside him, hardly engaged in any sort of academics as he instead reclined back in his seat and munched on his favorite snack of toffee peanuts. He was about to lean over to his brother and make a sardonic remark regarding his current boredom, but before he could, the PA blared with an announcement neither of the brothers had been expecting: “Pines twins to the principle’s office. Pines twins to the principle’s office.”
“Aw, great, what is it this time?” Stan remarked dryly, already pushing himself out of his seat. Ford followed him a bit apprehensively, expecting them to be called on account of something that his brother had gotten himself into some kind of unknown trouble. Though when they arrived at the office, they were quick to learn that this was apparently not the case.
“Not you,” the secretary stopped the brothers just shy of reaching the principles door, motioning for Stan to remain outside and Ford to go on in. “Him.”
The twins exchanged a rather confused glance at this, both of them knowing well that rare was the occasion that Ford ever did something wrong enough to actually get him in trouble. Still, Stan gave him a reassuring shrug as he took a seat outside the office, prompting Ford to head in on his own. Of course, he was even more surprised to find both of his parents sitting in front of the principle’s desk, their expressions all unreadable and expectant as they turned to face him. Ford took in something of an anxious breath as he took the empty seat in between his parents, folding his hands tightly in his lap as they all waited to hear what the principle had to say.
“Now, Mr. Pines, I’d like to speak to you very frankly, if I may,” the principle began, his manner still just vague enough to make Ford worry about what they had all been called here for.
“Very frankly is the only way I speak,” Filbrick remarked as coldly as ever.
“When it comes right down to it, you have two sons here,” the principle said matter-of-factly. “One of them is incredibly gifted, the other one is standing outside of this room and his name is Stanley.”
Ford couldn’t help but frown upon hearing this, more than used to hearing others hail Stan as the lesser of the two of them by now, though that hardly meant he approved of it. But before he could say anything to correct the principle’s rather disrespectful claims, his mother cut in instead. “What are you saying?” she asked, appropriately confused.
“I’m saying your son, Stanford, is a genius!” the principle proclaimed with a wide grin. “All his teachers are goin’ bananas over his science fair experiment! Ya ever heard of West Coast Tech?” he asked, handing Ford a pamphlet to the aforementioned school. “Best college in the country. Their graduates turn science fiction into science fact! The admissions team is visiting tomorrow to check out Stanford’s experiment! Your son may be a future millionaire, Mr. Pines.”
Upon hearing this, Filbrick’s usually staunch, stoic expression lifted into what almost looked like a genuinely pleased, proud smile. “I’m impressed,” he noted, something that only amazed Ford even more than the news that he was even being considered for a college as prestigious as West Coast Tech. In all honesty, he had never really considered college much before, largely since he had always assumed that his future would entail him and Stan finishing their boat and traveling the world with it. But now, that first dream seemed to be replaced with a new one, much more exciting one, one where he could really put his excessively high intelligence into practice, where he could apply his already innate scientific knowledge, where he could possibly even figure out a way to change the world for the better. And even beyond that, perhaps West Coast Tech could be a place where he could learn to fit in, somewhere where his IQ would be appreciated instead of picked on, somewhere where he could finally belong.
By all accounts, it was far too good of an opportunity to pass up. And yet… it wasn’t all as simple as it initially seemed as he was quickly reminded of the reality of it all.
“But what about our little free spirit, Stanley?” Ma asked with genuine concern for her other son’s future. Concern that Ford felt as well as he remembered that he wasn’t all alone in this, or anything else really. After all, the promise him and Stan had made as kids still rang true: where they went, they went together. But how could they hope to do that now, when only one of them had this chance to excel while the other one wouldn’t be receiving any such offer?
“That clown?” the principle scoffed apathetically. “At this rate, he’ll be lucky to graduate high school. Look, there’s a saltwater taffy store on the dock, and somebody’s gotta get paid to scrub the barnacles off of it. Truth is, Stanford’s goin’ places, while Stanley’s not. But hey, look on the bright side; at least you’ll have one son here in New Jersey forever.”
Unbeknownst to anyone inside the office, Stan had happened to overhear just about all of this from eavesdropping on the other side of the door. And suffice to say that a vast majority of it proved to be quite the blow to not just his self-confidence, but his hopes for the future as well. As he sank down to sit against the door, he put his head in his hands, fear filling him over the possibility that Ford might actually act upon this opportunity, that he might actually jump at the chance to leave him behind and move on to bigger and better things. True, Ford had never voiced the desire to really leave Glass Shard Beach outside of their plans to set sail on the Stan O’ War someday, but still, it was a fear that Stan just couldn’t shake, no matter how implausible it might be. In fact, it was a worry he had always secretly harbored, the idea that Ford might someday want something more than what they had planned, that they might end up parting ways, that their dynamic duo would suddenly somehow fall apart. That without him, he’d be left friendless, stagnant, and alone.
Still, Stan couldn’t know for sure what Ford really intended on doing until later that evening, when the brothers finally found a peaceful moment alone on the swing set at the beach. As their parents had proudly celebrated the opportunity that had dropped into Ford’s lap after the meeting with the principle, Stan had mostly hung back from it all in apprehensive silence, something that he fretfully found his brother not even paying any mind as he instead spoke with clear excitement over everything West Coast Tech had to offer. Excitement that already gave Stan a pretty good idea about what his brother wanted to do, as much as it pained him to think about.
All the same, he forced out a small, sardonic laugh as they sat together on the swings, the crisp warmth of the spring evening making things seem lighter than they really felt. “Ha, joke’s on them if they think you wanna go to some stuffy college on the other side of the country,” Stan remarked, the slightest hint of bitterness in his tone. “Once we get the Stan O’ War finished, it’s gonna be beaches, babes, and treasure hunting for us until we’re a pair of crusty old men, right?”
Ford hesitated upon hearing this, looking up from the pamphlet in his hands to his brother with a small, almost bittersweet smile. “Look, Stan, I can’t pass up a chance like this,” he began, deciding to be perfectly honest, though he could tell Stan wasn’t a fan of the idea based on his worried manner alone. “This school has cutting edge programs and multi-dimensional paradigm theory.”
“Beep-boop, I am a nerd robot,” Stan mocked, pulling off a robot pose to buffer his increasing aggravation with his brother. “That’s you, that’s what you sound like right now.”
Despite this teasing, Ford let out a brief chuckle, more than used to Stan’s playful joking by now. “Well, if the college board isn’t impressed with my experiment tomorrow, then… ok, I’ll do the treasure hunting thing with you.”
“…And if they are?”
“Well, then, I guess you better come visit me on the other side of the country, you knucklehead,” Ford grinned warmly, giving his brother a light punch on the shoulder before standing up to head home. All the same, Stan lingered on the swings for a bit after that, refusing to share the same hopeful manner as his brother, for he saw no hope in any of this. The only thing he really could see was something unthinkable: a future where Ford was accepted into that college, where he gladly left and stayed, likely settling roots there and creating a successful life for himself as a result of his scientific accomplishments. And on the opposite end, there Stan would be, without much of a chance to make any name for himself, much less any kind of sustainable income, stuck in Glass Shard Beach forever, stuck in lonely obscurity forever, stuck without his brother forever.
His grip on the sides of the swing tightened as he glanced over at the Stan O’ War, still sitting in its constant spot in the sand just a few feet away. For most of his youth, he had such ambitious dreams of the two of them jumping onto that boat the moment it was seaworthy, sailing wherever the wind took them and standing by each other throughout it all. Stan had always thought that Ford had shared those dreams, that they wanted the same thing: to stay together, no matter where they were. But now, that clearly wasn’t the case; they wanted different things, they had different dreams, and in the end, they were going to go their separate ways, no matter how much Stan wanted to keep them together.
And it infuriated him.
In fact, it enraged him so much that he couldn’t think of going home for the night just to hear his parents laud praise upon Ford for the successful future that awaited him. He couldn’t think of facing his brother, who had every plan of leaving him behind without so much as a second thought. He couldn’t think of going really anywhere else but school, where he knew all of these sudden troubles had first began. The gym was strangely unlocked for the night, as well as devoid of any security that the school was too cheap to hire, which allowed Stan easy access inside, where all of the science fair experiments were already set up for the following day. He had no real intentions in mind as he paced down the rows of tables hotly, bitterly snacking on his bag of toffee peanuts and seething to himself as he tried in vain to figure out how in the world Ford could even entertain the thought of breaking up their perfect, life-long team. But then, as he approached his brother’s experiment, a very impressive perpetual motion machine Ford had configured and built all on his own as a show of his vast scientific capabilities, Stan quickly realized exactly how he could. Because it was always all so easy for Ford while it had always been a struggle for Stan. Because success had really always been dangling right in front of Ford’s face, and only now had he actually realized he could take it, but only to Stan’s detriment. Because clearly, Ford really was the better of the two, while Stan was anything but.
“Ugh! This is all your fault, you dumb machine!” he growled, pouring all of his mounting frustration into the experiment before him, the very thing that would certainly prove to be Ford’s ticket into West Coast Tech the following day. And as that frustration reached his height, Stan lashed out, slamming his fist down onto the table it was sitting on, only for the machine to react almost immediately to the blow. A small piece of metal on its side came clattering off, a slight plume of smoke rising up from its internal mechanisms as a result, showing that clearly, something was wrong with it. “Oh no!” Stan gasped, dropping his snack and instantly regretting his mistake as he frantically looked over the damaged machine. “W-what did I do?! I-I didn’t mean to-” He cut his initial panic off with a steadying gasp as he looked to the machine again, not having any idea about what to do to fix it other than simply reattaching the piece that had fallen off. “T-There,” he sighed, noting that the machine looked like it was running as it should be. “Alright, good as new. Probably.” Unsure of what else to do, Stan hurriedly put a nearby tarp over the experiment and promptly left, hoping that Ford wouldn’t notice. And really, how could he? After all, it was fixed, there was nothing to worry about. Except there was.
For the next day, Ford arrived to the gym just on time, well-dressed, ready and eager to meet with West Coast Tech’s admission board. He took in a deep, steadying breath as the stoic group approached, knowing that his entire future depended on this one, integral moment; still, he strangely wasn’t all too worried. He was certain that his perpetual motion machine would be more than enough to impress the board and grant him the highly coveted scholarship that would finally set him down a path far greater than any he had ever imagined before.
“Alright, kid,” the head advisee said, his tone rather cold as he looked to Ford, initially unimpressed. “Show us what you got.”
“O-ok,” Ford nodded, putting on the most confident smile he could muster. “Well, what if I told you that the future of technology was beneath this sheet?” His smile widened a bit as he removed the tarp from his experiment, only for the board members’ expressions to remain as apathetic as before.
“I’d say we wasted a car trip,” the head advisee remarked, glancing between Ford and his experiment in staunch disapproval.
“What?!” Ford flinched, quickly looking back towards his machine only to find that it was completely still, with not so much as even a spark of energy coursing through it whatsoever. “T-that’s impossible! It was stable yesterday! A-a fuse must have blown or something!”
“Kid, a perpetual motion machine has one job: to not stop,” the head advisee said, swiftly crossing Ford’s name off their candidate list. “I don’t think you’re West Coast material.”
Ford gasped at this, initially dumbfounded in disbelief as the board members walked off, taking his one chance for any real excellence with them. “N-no! Wait!” he pleaded desperately as he began to hurry after them. “Just give me another chance! I worked so hard! Please, I-” He stopped short as he happened to step on something lying on the gym floor: an empty bag of toffee peanuts. And while at first Ford hadn’t the faintest idea about how his machine might have suddenly malfunctioned at the very worst of times, as he picked that bag up, he had no doubts about what, or rather who had ruined everything for him in one fell swoop.
Despite his lingering worries concerning Ford and his experiment, Stan had mostly managed to push such worries out of his mind by that night. True, he was still dreading the inevitable revelation that Ford was accepted and that come next fall, he’d be gone, but even if that did happen, there was still some time. Perhaps a few months would be all he’d need to convince his brother to change his mind, a few months to finish the Stan O’ War and set out upon it, a few months for everything to return to the way it was supposed to be.
The only problem with such wishful thinking was that it was just that: wishful thinking.
For as Stan reclined on the living room couch casually paddle balling away while watching TV, he failed to hear Ford fiercely enter the house until his brother came to stand between him and the television, clearly seething with rage. “Hey, what’s the word, Sixer?” Stan asked with a smile of greeting, one that quickly faded into confusion upon seeing just how apparently furious his brother was.
“Care to explain what this was doing next to my broken project?!” Ford growled as he held the bag of toffee peanuts up, instantly telling Stan everything he needed to know about what had happened.
“Uh…. O-ok…” Stan began quite awkwardly as he stood, unsure of how to really explain it all in a way that wouldn’t set Ford off even more. “So, I might have… a-accidentally been horsing around, and-”
“This was no accident, Stan,” Ford snapped bitterly. “You did this! You did this because you couldn’t handle me going to college on my own and leaving you here all by yourself! And now because of you, any chances I had for getting into West Coast Tech are completely destroyed, just like my project!”
“Look, it was a mistake!” Stan countered earnestly. “I didn’t mean to bust your thing up, I-I promise!”
“Do you honestly expect me to believe you!?” Ford argued sharply, his hands in tight fists at his sides. “Ever since I got this offer yesterday, you’ve done nothing but complain about it and try to talk me out of it! Honestly, I should have expected you to try and sabotage me like this just to keep me tied down to you!”
“Whoa, hold on, what?!” Stan shot back, narrowing his eyes at his brother. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Up until yesterday, you seemed totally fine with being ‘tied down to me’, but when the first offer for something ‘better’ drops into your lap, you jump on it without a second thought! What, did you just forget that the two of us have spent our entire damn lives together or something?!”
“Well of course I haven’t! But be reasonable, Stanley! We’re almost adults, for crying out loud! Its time for both of us to move on and live our own lives! We can’t stay attached to each other at the hip forever!”
“Easy for you to say! You’re the one who’s actually going places! If they had let you into that fancy nerd school, then I would have been stuck here in boring, deadass New Jersey for rest of my life all by myself! But hey,” Stan let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he attempted to calm down. “If you think about it, m-maybe there’s a silver lining to all this, huh? Treasure hunting?”
Ford was silent for a moment upon hearing this, his expression awash in disbelief as he stared at his brother in shock over such a callous request before exploding in absolute anger. “Are you kidding me?! Why would I ever want to do anything with the person who sabotaged by entire future?!” At this, Ford found he could no longer contain his frustration as he acted upon it physically, shoving Stan hard back into the couch. Or rather, right into their father as he happened to enter the room, far from pleased over everything he’d just overheard.
“You did what, you knucklehead?!” Filbrick hissed, griping his son by the front of his shirt as he glared at him relentlessly.
“Stanley?” Ma asked tiredly as she entered the room, her young grandson bundled up and crying in her arms. “What’s goin’ on in here?”
“I’ll tell ya what’s goin’ on in here,” Filbrick remarked hotly, his threatening scowl enough to frighten Stan to the core. “Your little ‘free spirit’ here just ruined Stanford’s chances into getting’ into that fancy college! Ain’t that right?” he snapped over at Ford, who’s tune had quickly changed from anger into sudden fear over just how infuriated his father seemed to be.
“I-I… uh, w-well…” he stammered, looking between Filbrick, and Stan, who was silently, desperately pleading with him to disprove it. Something that, in light of just how much his brother had cost him, Ford found he simply couldn’t do.
“Ah, forget it,” Filbrick scoffed over his other son’s apprehensive silence. “I already heard the whole damn thing. Which means its time to do what I should’ve done a long time ago…”
“W-wait!” Stan begged as his father roughly dragged him downstairs. Ford gasped at this, unsure of what their father really intended on doing, which was why he promptly followed a safe distance behind them to see for himself. “No! I-I can’t explain! It was a mistake!”
“The only mistake around here is you!” Filbrick yelled as he tossed Stan outside onto the curb hard. “Your brother was gonna be our ticket out of this dump! All you ever do is lie and cheat and ride off your brother’s coattails. Well this time you cost our family potential millions! And until you make us a fortune, you ain’t welcome in this household!”
With this, Filbrick threw a full duffle bag at his now disowned son, showing not the slightest bit of empathy or pity as he prepared to slam the door on him. However, right before he could, Ford, acting on impulse alone, happened to intervene. “W-wait!” he exclaimed, stepped up behind his father. “D-Dad, you… you can’t… S-Stan wasn’t… he didn’t mean to-”
“Oh what? All the sudden you wanna defend him?” Filbrick scowled as he stood over his other son rather imposingly. “If ya feel so ‘sorry’ for him, then why don’t you just pack up and join him on the street seeing as how neither of you are ever gonna amount anything now that-”
“Filbrick!” Ma swiftly interupted as she stood at the end of the stairs, tears in her eyes despite her severe expression over her husband’s harsh actions. At this, Filbrick finally seemed to quell his rage, though just a bit as he turned to slam the door behind him, not sparing a word to either Stan or Ford as he solidified his decision.
“Wait, no!” Stan cried one last time as he scrambled to pick himself up off the ground. “Ford, tell him he’s being crazy!” He looked to his brother pleadingly, only to receive a look of both shame and betrayal all at once. Ford hung back, clearly terrified to rock the boat with their father again, lest he be kicked out just as Stan was, something that he understood well, but couldn’t take all the same. “F-Ford?” he tried once again as Ford slowly turned away from him, his shoulders hunched with regret as he refused to look his brother in the eye, even one last time. “D-don’t leave me hangin’… High six?” he offered his hand with a weak smile, one that was never returned as Filbrick finally slammed the door on him, shutting him out of his home, out of his family, just like that.
And for a moment, the most Stan could really even do in light of this was simply stand there, nearly on the verge of tears as he realized he had just lost everything in one fell swoop. Yet that wasn’t even the worst part of it all. The worst part, was that, despite his first meager attempt to stop this, in the end, Ford had still chosen everything else over him. Which meant that now, he really was all alone, just as he had feared.
“F-fine,” Stan began, forcing his grief out in place of anger as he gripped the bag his father had apparently packed for him in anticipation of kicking him out. Yet another sign of just how little he clearly meant to his own family, he assumed. “I can make it on my own! I don’t need you! I don’t need anyone!” he shouted back at the closed off house, hoping that his father and especially Ford could hear him. “I’ll make millions and you’ll rue the day you ever turned your back on me!” Without sparing any of them another word, Stan abruptly turn and got into his car, speeding away from his former home as fast as he could. All the same, before he turned off the block for good, he couldn’t help but spare one final, remorseful glance at everything he was leaving behind, knowing that despite his father’s refusal to listen to reason, despite his brother’s hesitance to stand up and defend him, despite all of the guilt he could just as easily place on everyone else, he only had himself to blame.
Which meant that the only one he could depend on to fix it all was himself.
And so, after a sleepless night spent in his car, Stan set out to do exactly that. With no real plan for sustaining himself in mind, he decided to go with the best thing he could think of: treasure hunting. Of course, the Stan O’ War was still a ways off from completion, and without Ford’s help, Stan doubted that it would ever really be seaworthy. So instead, he decided to begin his search for wealth right on Glass Shard Beach itself. Armed with only a metal detector, he began combing the shore, hoping that somewhere buried deep beneath it would be the treasure that would prove to his entire family that he was so much more than screw up they thought him to be. Unfortunately, despite his thorough efforts, the most the shore really had to offer were discarded cans and other such assorted litter, things that certainly weren’t going to get him anywhere close to rich any time soon.
What did have a chance at getting him rich was something Stan hadn’t really considered before, but was instantly inspired to do upon spotting a well-placed billboard near the beach: becoming a traveling salesman. With no home or family to tie him down any longer, Stan found that he was easily able to throw himself into the on-the-go entrepreneur lifestyle as he began his very first lone business venture: Stan Co. Enterprises. He worked out of his car, going door to door at first and selling home and personal products from vacuums to coat hangers to everything in between, all made out of the cheapest materials he could possibly amass so he could make the biggest profit possible in return. After he had made a decent amount of money, Stan began advertising his wares on late-night infomercial spots, which he was glad to see boosted his sales even more. However, what the young salesman hadn’t been anticipating was that his customers wouldn’t be satisfied with the rather poor quality of his wares. One item in particular, the Sham Total, caught the ire of its users, as, instead of removing stains like it was promoted to do, its cheap dye only served to make them much, much worse. Stan quickly learned about his customer’s frustration firsthand as they swarmed his market stand on the boardwalk as an angry mob, complete with riotous demands for refunds and pitchforks in hand. Fortunately for Stan, he had sold them said pitchforks, and they were all just about as faulty and defective as any other product he offered, which allowed him to make a clean getaway, without returning any of their money to them whatsoever.
Of course, such fraud and essential theft was highly illegal in the state of New Jersey, but Stan only narrowly avoided jailtime for it in exchange for never entered the state again. The young salesman hardly even cared as he left his home state for the last time, officially banned from it as he ventured into Pennsylvania, wisely changing his name so that he could keep his still-fledgling business intact. Still, Stan, or as he now referred to himself, Steve Pinington, had hardly learned his lesson when it came to selling defective products, for despite his Rip-Off brand bandages being advertised to not give users rashes, they did exactly that. After just a few short weeks, Stan was effectively driven out of Pennsylvania and onto the next state, changing his name yet again in the process.
And so things continued in a similar process for the next several years. After realizing that his attempts at playing entrepreneur weren’t working to make him much of a profit, Stan decided to try his hand at various other get rich quick schemes. From betting on horse races, to trying his hand at the lottery, to money laundering scams, to even getting involved with mobs and cartels, he tried just about everything he could think of to make his way in the world. Of course, getting a regular job would have been much easier, but he was quick to find that most places had no interest in hiring a high school dropout with a rapidly growing criminal history to his name, or rather names. It had been quite some time since he had gone by Stanley Pines, and in its place were several other conjured IDs thought up throughout his travels: Stetson Pinefied, Hal Forrester, Andrew “8-Ball” Alcatraz, and those were just a few of the false identities he fabricated, identities that allowed him to travel across the country, and in a few cases even outside of it, as he pleased. True, it wasn’t always easy; living out of his car was far from glamorous, money for food, or for anything else really, wasn’t often guaranteed, and he had made more than a few enemies in his misadventures, from law enforcement officers to thugs and gangsters. But even despite all of the struggles, he was his still own man, finally cut loose from being just “Ford’s brother” as he had been known throughout his entire youth. And while acting on his own and having to fight all his own battles carried plenty of problems of its own, Stan kind of preferred it like that.
After all, with no one in the world left to rely on, not even his own twin brother, that meant that the only one he could rely on was himself.
Present Day
Seeing that the kids in particular were rather overwhelmed by the lengthy story he was detailing for them, Stan decided to take a brief break, though only really to counter the sullen scowl Ford was sending his way. Even the Gems were just as quick to notice the tension between the two brothers, but neither of them really said anything on it seeing as how they were still very eager to learn what their apparent part in all of this was. Yet even so, they had been paying attention thus far, something that, out of all three of them, Pearl was the one to prove as she spoke up, giving the conman something of a critical frown.
“So I suppose all that time ‘on the run’ explains those fake IDs of yours we found?” she asked somewhat caustically.
“Oh, gee, I dunno, Pearl,” Stan deadpanned, clearly in no mood to contend with both her and Ford at the same time. “Maybe all those IDs belong to some other guy who got kicked out of his family and had to run around all over the country for over ten years just to get by.”
Pearl simply let out a disgruntled scoff upon hearing this, one that Ford lightly echoed as he shook his head in obvious disapproval of his brother’s sarcasm. Still, Stan hardly paid either of them any mind as he happened to glance over at Amethyst, who remained in sullen silence as she glared away from him, arms crossed and expression sour. He was half tempted to address her, to apologize from everything he had harbored from one of his closest friends for long, but before he could get the chance, Steven interjected.
“Wow…” he said with a sympathetic frown for Stan and Ford after pondering all they had just heard. “What happened between you guys… it’s… it’s really sad…”
“It sure is!” Mabel quipped just as fretfully before trying her best to perk up a bit. “I know exactly what you two little broken teacups need: to hug it out!” She grinned brightly, looking between the brothers as they stood a good distance away from each other, their backs turned and their expressions petulant as the refused to do anything of the sort. “Hug it out!” Mabel tried again, this time a bit less insistently as her smile started to falter. “H-hug train’s coming in the station! Hugapalooza! Two thousand!”
“Uh… m-maybe you guys just need a good example?” Steven offered a bit less excitably. “It’s easy, all you have to do is open your arms out wide and-” The young Gem finished by pulling both Mabel and Dipper into a sudden hug, one that the former gladly welcomed, despite her surprised blush, though the latter was by far less enthusiastic about.
“Ugh, you guys, come on,” Dipper scowled as he pulled himself away from the pair, averting their confused glances rather bitterly. “Knock it off. Now isn’t the time to be messing around, ok?”
“Aw, but come on, bro-bro, we were just-” Mabel found herself abruptly cut off by the hand her brother put up, making it quite clear that had no interesting in addressing either her or Steven at the moment. And they both had a heavy hunch about what the exact reason for such staunch avoidance really was, as much as it worried them both.  
Instead, Dipper turned his attention over to Ford since he was by far more curious about whatever the author’s intriguing, unknown past might have entailed than Stan’s history of lying and deceit. “So wait, what about you?” he asked curiously. “Did you end up going to your dreams school?”
Ford let out a rather frustrated sigh at this, paired with an irritated glare that was clearly intended for Stan in light of what had transpired between them years ago. “Not exactly…”
Early 1970s
Backupsmore University was far from being anything close to a prestigious college, placed in a small town only a few hours outside of Glass Shard Beach, with a subpar enrollment number and mediocre programs and facilities. However, given that his chances for getting into any ivy league school like West Coast Tech had been all but ruined, Ford had found that he really had no other choices when it came to his higher education. Backupsmore, while quite underwhelming, had at least offered him a decent academic scholarship, one that he begrudgingly took in the hopes that he could at least advance his future somehow. Besides, anything that got him out of Glass Shard Beach and out from his under father’s almost oppressively strict thumb, Ford considered to be a plus.
Still, that didn’t mean he was exactly excited about venturing off into his college career on his own. For the entire summer after Stan had been kicked out, Ford often found himself lost in a sea of unanswerable “what ifs”. What if he had been accepted into West Coast Tech? What if Stan hadn’t been kicked out? What if things between the two of them hadn’t been completely torn apart over one simple instance neither one of them could have ever really predicted?
Or more than that, what if he had the courage and the nerve to stand up to his father, to walk right out that door and join his brother in an uncertain, but still united future?
Truthfully, he’d never know. Because on that family-shattering night, Ford had made his choice, just as Stan had made his choice to take away his chances for a securely successful future out of spite. And his choice to walk alone and forge his own path to success was one he was determined to stand by, no matter what.
But all the same, forging that path was far from easy work. Ford threw himself into his studies from day one of his freshman year, relentlessly pouring over any book that came his way and acing every single exam he took. He quickly gained a reputation on campus as “the six-fingered genius”, as well as a plethora of other goading nicknames, though Ford paid none of them any mind. He had long since given up on the endeavor of a social life in favor of his academic pursuits, in which he was making great strides. It wasn’t always smooth sailing; Backupsmore didn’t often know how to handle a student as high preforming as Ford, but even so he managed to advance through his undergraduate program three years ahead of schedule, an outstanding record for anyone at the college by far. His graduate studies were every bit as successful, with tireless, sleepless days and nights spent working on his master’s thesis, one that was impressive enough to gain recognition and adulation on a national scale. By the time Ford finished his studies with multiple PhDs under his belt, the university awarded him with what was by far the highest honor he could have hoped for: a substantial grant for $100,000, intended to fund any research endeavor of his choice.
To Ford, it was like a dream come true. So much work, so much time, and so much effort, and through it all he had cultivated the means to finally go out and explore literally anything his heart desired. Excitement practically overwhelmed him in the weeks following graduation as he tried to figure out exactly what scientific pursuit he wanted to follow with this hefty grant. In all honesty, there were so many options available to him, from aerodynamic physics, to theoretical astronomy, to advanced robotics, and literally everything in between. And yet, as the fresh graduate pondered over his abundant choices, his mind often wandered back to his own six-fingered hands every time he so much as glanced down at them. Throughout his childhood and teen years, even a good portion of his college experience, his polydactylism had often been a stimulus of sour ridicule towards him from his peers. And yet… for as odd and sometimes off putting as he often say his apparent defect, Ford couldn’t deny that there was an element of unique strangeness to it, to the point that it could certainly be classified as an anomaly of sorts. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he was far from the only anomaly out there; certainly, the world was filled with incredibly strange things, the likes of which no one had ever seen before, just waiting to be discovered and studied and reported on by someone intrepid enough to seize such a challenge. And fortunately for Ford, he was more than intrepid and dedicated enough to take on such a bold, untapped field, all on his own.
With his mission in mind, all that was really left was for Ford to pick a base of operations for his research. Ideally, it would be somewhere where reports of oddities and bizarre sightings were common, highly concentrated even, so that his research could be contained to one set geographical place. And, after some intensive investigations, Ford eventually managed to pinpoint a place that had exactly that, a small Oregonian town, one that rarely even made an appearance on most maps at all, yet by all accounts, seemed to be home to countless unknown anomalies never seen or heard of before:
Gravity Falls.
And so, that’s exactly where he went. With his grant check in his pocket and purpose in his heart, Ford set out on the long, cross-country drive to Oregon, ready to begin his search for the unknown. Upon his initial arrival, Gravity Falls didn’t seem that notable; just a little lumberjack town, nestled within a cozy little valley of deep pine forests and populated by what appeared to be average, unassuming people. However, as the young researcher drove in closer to the town, he happened to notice one particular facet about it that made him pull his car to a stop and stare in apt amazement.
From an initial glance, it appeared to be some sort of statue, rising high above the town from the tall cliff face it was carved into. The statue was carved into the shape of a woman, massive and stately, with several arms with palms held up towards the sky, and a mask of two stoic, yet steadfast faces. Needless to say that Ford was completely awestruck upon seeing such a monument, and already, his curiosity was peaked for whatever secrets it, as well as the rest of this seemingly normal town might hold.
In fact, his interest about this statue was so peaked that he ended up purchasing a plot of land in the forest just down the hill from it to build his new home, or rather, his base of operations on. His grant money would be more than enough to cover the construction costs, leaving Ford to begin his initial investigations. Of course, he didn’t have to look very far for any strangeness, for not but a day after he had arrived, a massive, wooden hand emerged from the depths of the forest and swept his car away entirely. While normally, he would have been distraught or even outraged at the loss of his main method of transportation, Ford couldn’t have been any more excited by this sign that truly, something bizarre, maybe even supernatural lurked within this odd little town.
In fact, as the days passed on into weeks, Ford only began to spot even more oddities betwixt the forests of Gravity Falls, to the point that it was quickly becoming clear that he wouldn’t be able to keep the reports of his findings restrained to the small notebook he had brought along with him. And so, in order to properly document the fascinating strangeness he happened across every day, the young researcher decided it would be best to chronicle it all within a series of journals-
Present Day
“AHHHH!”
Ford cut his ongoing narration off at this absolutely elated squeal, one that had, much to everyone’s surprise, had come from Dipper. “The journals!” he exclaimed, heavily excited over the mere mention of the long-unknown origin of the trio of books. His enthusiasm quickly quelled into embarrassment however, upon noticing that the others were all looking to him rather awkwardly, all of them apparently caught off guard by his interruption, including the author himself.
“Oh, uh… s-sorry,” Dipper quickly apologized, suppressing a flustered blush as he averted eye contact with the others. “I-I, um, just got… kinda excited there… a-about the journals… k-keep… keep talking.”
Another beat of tentative silence passed in light of this, but it soon came to an end as Ford continued right where he had left off. “So as I was saying, I began to keep a journal-”
“AHHHHH!” Dipper inadvertently interupted Ford once again, unable to contain his excitement over the books even a second time, though he forced himself to be calm as Garnet patiently shushed him so Ford could go on.
“Just going to ignore that,” the author said staunchly as he dove right back into telling his compelling tale.
1970s
With his journals serving as the idea way to document all of the countless anomalies he came across, Ford finally began to investigate the unique oddities of Gravity Falls in depth, and he was far from disappointed with what he saw. From floating eyeballs, to cursed doors, to even the surprisingly large population of gnomes dwelling deep within the woods, the unexpectedly incredible little town had so much strangeness to offer, both supernatural and otherwise. And yet, for all of the anomalies he found on his frequent forays deep into the forest, there was still one mystery that baffled the young researcher as the weeks of his time there passed into months. A mystery that was only a short walk right up the hill from his very own home.
And after months of being preoccupied by smaller, more cursory explorations, Ford decided that perhaps it was finally time to look into that massive, almost ethereal statue for himself. He started his investigation by asking around town about it, but none of the rumors he heard seemed to bear much weight, including whispers of women who changed their shape and could pull weapons out of stones on their bodies. So in light of having so little to go off of, Ford decided on one crisp autumn day that if he wanted answers to this curiosity hanging almost literally right over his head, he’d just have to find them for himself.
While the young researcher wasn’t exactly sure what he had been expecting to find, what he ended up encountering during that trudge up the hill towards the statue gave him quite a scare. For as he was writing down some cursory notes in his journal on his way up to the statue, Ford suddenly found himself pushed abruptly to the ground by a creature that was quite unlike any he had encountered in Gravity Falls thus far. It was a large, lumbering monster, with multiple limbs and a semi-gelatinous form, though what was quite interesting about it was the fact that it possessed what appeared to be some kind of sparkling stone in place of where its face should have been. For a moment, the most Ford could do was stare at this creature in both amazement and fear as it stood over him, growling ferally, but as quickly as it had pinned him down, it reared up on its hind legs, ready to crash down hard. And yet, before it could, something bright, fast, and pink rammed into its side, abruptly shoving it off the frightened young researcher. As disoriented as he was, Ford only had a moment to pick himself up into a sitting position and readjust his askew glasses before looking over to his saviors, who only managed to baffle him even more.
A group of four women had descended seemingly out of nowhere, each of them bearing some form of deadly combat weapon as they fought the gelatinous creature head on. The smallest of the bunch, short and almost childlike in statue and oddly predominantly purple in coloration, lashed a spiked whip out at the beast, wrangling it down securely. This gave her supposed teammate, a lithe, limber woman with porcelain white skin and a smooth stone of the same color on her forehead, a chance to swoop in with a courageous battle cry, a spear in hand as she skewered the monster down to the ground. From there, another one of the group, a taller woman with a cubical black afro and heavily-fortified battle gauntlets, delivered a powerful right hook to the creature, further incapacitating it to allow the last member of this apparent team to finish the job. By her presence alone, it was easy to tell that she was the leader, tall yet oddly genteel in her appearance, from her elegant white gown to her mass of pink, perfect ringlet curls as she stepped forward almost solemnly, an impressive claymore of a blade in one hand and a shimmering shield over her other. And then, as she stood right before the writhing creature, she lashed out, her sword cleanly hitting its mark; with a simple twist of the blade, the monster’s form completely dissipated, leaving only its bizarre stone behind. The pink-haired woman placed her hand over it, somehow forming a small, shimmering bubble around it before making it disappear into thin air before she turned to address her teammates.
“Excellent work, Gems!” she congratulated warmly, the other three clearly soaking up her adulation as their weapons seemed to vanish in bursts of sparkles. “It hardly took us any time at all to beat that one! Like I always say, its easier when we work together.”
“It certainly is…” the pale woman grinned proudly, intertwining her hand with her leaders, much to the smallest member’s playful annoyance.
“Aw, c’mon, Pearl, if you wanna have your ‘special time’ with Rose, then get a room,” she remarked, teasingly sticking her tongue out, much to the pale woman’s embarrassment. Still, the other two let out amused chuckles at this, though the second tallest one stopped short upon spotting Ford, who was still stuck on his spot as he started at them in immense awe and curiosity to learn more about these mysterious warrior women.
“Rose,” the taller Gem nudged her leader’s free arm, nodding in the young researcher’s direction. At this, the pink haired woman glanced over her shoulder, surprised at first, though her admittedly lovely expression soon broke out into a wide, cordial grin.
“Oh! Hello, there!” she greeted brightly as she turned to face him fully, revealing the bright pink gemstone where her exposed naval would have been. All the same, she headed over to him, her teammates following close behind as she extended a hand out to help him up. “I hadn’t noticed that monster was attacking a human! Looks like we got here just in time. Are you alright?”
For a moment, Ford couldn’t seem to find any words to say to the impressive woman before him, largely since he was so awestruck by whatever she apparently was. Of course, she had set the distinction herself that she wasn’t human, despite her very human-like appearance, which only made him wonder about her and her friends all the more as he took her hand somewhat apprehensively. “Uh, I-I… um… n-no—I-I mean, y-yes! Yes, I am,” he nodded as he rose to stand somewhat unsteadily, surprised by just how small he felt compared to the very tall woman before him.
“Pfft, doesn’t look alright,” the small, purple girl remarked with a sly sneer as she elbowed her paler teammate. “Pretty sure this one’s broken, don’t ya think, Pearl?”
“Oh please, Amethyst,” the pale woman scoffed, crossing her arms as she stole a somewhat disdainful glance at the young researcher. “Humans can’t break, isn’t that right, Rose?”
“Well, they can,” the pink haired woman chuckled. “But I don’t think this one is, are you?”
“Um… I don’t… believe so…” Ford replied, rather confused by such an odd question. In all honesty, he wasn’t entirely sure how to properly carry himself in front of such odd, yet ethereal women, but all the same, they seemed friendly enough. Which was a relief given some of the more dangerous creatures lurking in the woods around Gravity Falls.
“Could’ve fooled us,” the second tallest Gem remarked, her tone staunch and stoic.
“So, you got a name, not-broken human?” the purple girl asked quite casually, rocking back and forth on her feet.
“Oh, I-I… it’s Stanford. Stanford Pines,” he said as solidly as he could, extending a hand out for them to shake. The women were apparently not accustomed to this standard greeting practice, but the small one let out a surprised gasp as she suddenly grabbed his hand and pulled it down a bit, much to Ford’s alarm.
“Whoa! You guys, check this out!” she exclaimed, her expression awash in amazement. “This human’s got an extra finger!”
Upon being called out for this, Ford was quick to pull his hand away, his cheeks lighting up in a flustered red as he tried his best to conceal his hands, though the pink haired woman extended hers out to him, a small, eager smile on her face all the while. “Can I see?” she asked, her tone curious, warm even. Warm enough to, for whatever reason, convince Ford to hold his hand out for her to get a better look. “Oh, wow! It’s true!” she gasped, her smile widening as she looked back up to Ford, clearly impressed. “How remarkable! I’ve never seen a human with six fingers before! This really is something special, don’t you agree, Gems?”
The smaller and the taller women both nodded with intrigued smiles, though the paler one lingered close to their leader, giving Ford a critical, almost suspicious glance until she met the pink haired woman’s bright smile, making her harsh manner fizzle somewhat. “Mm… I suppose it’s… somewhat interesting,” she remarked dryly. “For a human that is…”
While Ford was somewhat confused by her strangely cold attitude, he couldn’t deny how caught off guard he was by the other three women. Specifically by the fact that they seemed rather amazed by his polydactylism rather than put off by it, which of course, only made him want to know more about these so called “Gems”. “Um… forgive me if this sounds a bit rude,” Ford began, his stone till somewhat uncertain. “But… what exactly are the four of you?”
“Oh! I’m sorry!” the pink haired woman laughed. “I were so fascinated by you that I didn’t even think to introduce us! Well, this is Amethyst,” she nodded down to the purple girl, who smirked wryly as she waved up to the young researcher. “That’s Garnet,” she placed a hand on the taller Gem’s shoulder as she greeted him with a casual nod. “And this is Pearl,” she smiled to the pale woman clinging tightly to her, still refusing to so much as even smile at Ford for some unknown reason. “And I’m Rose Quartz,” she finished sweetly, though her expression took on a bit of resolve as she motioned to the entire group. “And we’re the Crystal Gems!”
“Crystal… Gems?” Ford asked with a confused frown, taking another glance down at the gemstone on Rose’s stomach. “As in… gemstones?”
“In a sense…” Rose nodded, prompting Garnet to hold up her gem-bearing palms and for Amethyst to pull her top down a bit, revealing the gem on her chest. Pearl huffed impatiently as she pointed to the stone on her own head, allowing Ford to see that all four of these Gems were exactly that: Gems.
“Incredible…” Ford mused in apt amazement as he pulled out his journal and hurriedly began taking down notes. “Sentient humanoid gemstones! And the four of you fight monsters like that on the regular?”
“Yes,” Garnet nodded, quite sparse with her words.
“We just so happen to be the protectors of this town, the ones responsible for keeping it, as well as this entire planet, safe from harm,” Pearl remarked somewhat snidely, casting a brief, unfavorable glance down at Ford’s journal as he eagerly continued writing. “By the way… w-whatever you said your name was, you got to ask us a question, so now its our turn. What exactly is that?” she nodded to the journal as the young researcher happened to glance up from it.
“Oh, this?” he smiled, somewhat oblivious to the white Gem’s dry tune as he held the book up for the Gems to see. “It’s a journal that I’ve been using to take notes of all of the supernatural oddities I’ve come across in this town.”
“Uh… why do that?” Amethyst asked, rather confused as Ford handed the journal off to Rose so she could get a better look at it. “You could just go outside and look at all the weird stuff around here; that’s way easier than writin’ it all down.”
“Well, that’s because I’m a scientific researcher,” Ford proclaimed rather proudly. “I came here a few months ago and set up shop just down the hill,” he nodded to his house, which was still in sight at the bottom of the hill. “In order to study whatever strange, bizarre, or downright confounding anomalies Gravity Falls has to offer before one day sharing my findings with the world!”
“Hm… so that’s where that unsightly little building came from…” Pearl muttered, still somewhat cross.
“Anomalies?” Rose questioned with a soft, but enthusiastic gasp. “You’re here to figure out what makes this town so unique too? We’ve been looking into the exact same thing for over 100 years now!”
“Rose, are you sure we should-” Pearl attempted to intervene, though she was quickly cut off.
“Really?” Ford asked, very intrigued to hear that someone else shared his immense curiosity when it came to the odd facets of the town.  
“Of course!” the pink Gem smiled warmly. “Come with us to our temple, its right up the hill. We’d be more than happy to tell you, or rather show you everything we’ve learned so far!”
“Rose-” Pearl tried once more, appalled that her liege would make such an offer out of the blue.
“O-oh, well I’d be honored to!” Ford complied excitedly, gladly following after Rose as she began to lead the way up to the massive statue.
“B-but Rose!” the white Gem protested once more, though her frustration fell on deaf ears as Rose and Ford had already launched into conversation about the mysteries of Gravity Falls. Pearl let out a disgruntled sigh, far from happy about having yet another human around, especially since that was a problem she hadn’t really had to worry about much during their tenure in Gravity Falls. Of course, Amethyst only managed to rub salt in the wound as she skipped past her teammate, letting out a teasing laugh as she did.
“Aw, Pearl, I dunno what you’re so upset about,” she smirked as she flipped over to walk on her hands. “Looks like we got another huge nerd around here, so you and Science Man should get along great!”
“Amethyst…” Pearl grumbled bitterly as the purple Gem ran off, though as Garnet passed by her she paused to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t worry,” she said, adjusting her shades. “This one isn’t going to end like you think it will.”
Pearl’s angry expression lightened into a look of both surprise and confusion upon hearing this, but Garnet didn’t bother elaborating as she continued on ahead. “G-Garnet, wait!” the white Gem exclaimed, running after her teammate, anxious and hopeful all at once. “What does that mean? Garnet!”
Even from their initial meeting, it was easy for anyone to see that Rose and Ford had hit it off. They spent several hours sitting up near the entrance to the Gems’ obviously mystical temple, exchanging stories of the anomalies they had each encountered during their time in Gravity Falls thus far. While Pearl wasn’t initially interested in joining in on the conversation, Amethyst and Garnet did, interjecting with their own observations occasionally, all of which Ford made mental notes on to investigate further. The young researcher was so invested in this riveting discussion with these fascinating women that he found it hard to pull himself away and back down to his house, but eventually he did, though he left with the assurance that he could continue this exchange of information with the Gems tomorrow. A meeting that he gladly showed up to the following day. And the day after that. And the day after that.
In fact, nearly every day onward, Ford and the Gems encountered each other in some way shape or form, be it formal meetings or chance encounters as they explored the supernatural oddities of Gravity Falls on their own. In light of how many times they ran into each other, Ford and Rose eventually reached a conclusion: the five of them would be much more effective working together in their pursuit of knowledge than they were apart. And so, they decided to form something of a partnership, one in which they set out as a collective force, thoroughly searching the wilds of Gravity Falls for anything interesting they might find.
Researching alongside the Gems, Ford found himself learning more than he ever had about the supernatural than he had when he had worked alone. Rose knew the valley well, and she seemed to be on generally good terms with most of the strange creatures that lived therein, who were all naturally trusting of her kind, gentle nature. The in she provided him with greatly aided the young researcher, allowing him to investigate these anomalies up close and personal, granting him with so much new information that his initial journal all too quickly filled, prompting him to resort to a second one and eventually, even a third.
Of course, the longer he studied alongside Rose and the Gems, the more variety Ford saw in the oddities Gravity Falls seemed to innately possess. From unicorns to ghosts to even the egg to a bizarre, shapeshifting creature they had found, the supernatural was abundant in the backwoods town. Practically every new discovery left Ford and Rose both besides themselves with excitement, their zeal for learning more about the world around them completely parallel and passionate.
And through that zeal and passion, a deep, genuine friendship had formed through their initial partnership, one that both of them valued highly. An undeniable bond of trust came to exist between the pink Gem and the young researcher, to the point that any time they were in each other’s company, they were essentially as content as they could be.
Though it took a bit longer for the other Gems to warm up to Ford as Rose so quickly had, in time, they did as well. Amethyst was eager and curious, particularly when it came to what she had dubbed as “human things”, to the point that every time she stepped foot in Ford’s house, he often spent most of his time explaining to her what things like a radio or a refrigerator were. In something of a bittersweet way, her rouge, careless attitude sometimes reminded him a bit too much of Stan… but every time such thoughts of his distanced brother came to mind, Ford was quick to push them away.
Garnet was a bit of an interesting case, often silent and stoic and firm in words and action. For the first few months, Ford found it rather hard to strike up a conversation with her, that is until he learned of her unique ability in foresight, what she commonly referred to as future vision. From then on, the young researcher often found himself coming to Garnet for statistics and probability, things that she was rather adept at; such scientific inquiries soon led to the occasional offhand joke or complimentary remark between the two, forming a casual camaraderie as time went on.
Of course, it took the longest amount of time for Ford to form an actual working relationship with Pearl, who continued to show her initial unexplained bitterness towards him for even up to a year after they met. The white Gem refused to explain her reasoning for it and the young researcher never really thought to ask, even despite Rose patiently encouraging that they try to work together and get along. However, if there was one thing both Ford and Pearl could agree on, it was their love of science. While there were plenty of times where they’d argue over equations and theory, on the rare occasion when they’d agree on something, they’d do so with a surprising amount of forbearing and understanding. And as time went on, that understanding only seemed to grow as they continued sharing their mutual affinity for physics, astronomy, cryptozoology and more, to the point that something of a loose, compliant colleagueship began to form, one that, in time, eventually became a full-fledged friendship.
With such trust and companionship existing between Ford and the Gems, it didn’t take long for Rose to begin opening up on their end of things. For much like all of the other strange facets of Gravity Falls, the Crystal Gems were something of an anomaly in and of themselves, and the more Ford learned of their origins and their abilities, the more amazed he was. By far, the most incredible thing about them was the fact that they were actually essentially extraterrestrials, with origins going back to a mysterious planet called Homeworld, a place that none of them spoke too fondly of. The young researcher quickly discovered the reasoning behind this disdain upon learning the largely unknown history of the ancient war the Crystal Gems had fought against their home planet for the safety and freedom of the Earth, a battle long fought and hard won, but won nonetheless. Of course, history wasn’t all the Gems told Ford about; their biology was quite amazing, with regenerative properties and internal sustainability that set them quite apart from humans. Rose eagerly introduced the young researcher to a plethora of Gem-related concepts, from their shapeshifting abilities, to their weapon summoning, to their unique capacity to combine their forms in a process referred to as fusion, so even the various magical pocket dimensions contained within their illustrious temple. By and large, Ford found these discoveries to be some of the most fascinating ones he’d made during his time in Gravity Falls, and he readily documented everything he could concerning the Crystal Gems across all three of his journals.
Overall, Ford found the Gems’ help to be invaluable to his research, and their companionship to be more than he could have ever asked for. Amongst Garnet’s confidence, Amethyst’s playfulness, Pearl’s zeal, and Rose’s kindness, the young researcher realized he was in a place and position that made him happier than he could really ever recall being. After a whole life of what felt like unsteadiness and uncertainty, he had finally dug his roots among company that openly and warmly accepted him for who he was. Within the incredible strangeness of Gravity Falls and between the friendship of the equally amazing Crystal Gems, Ford knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was exactly where he belonged.
And yet… something was still missing.
Nearly six years and come and gone in a bright rush of new discoveries and exciting experiences since Ford had first arrived in Gravity Falls, but even despite his immense contentment there, several questions still hung at the back of his mind almost continually. Namely, why was Gravity Falls such a hotspot for the strange and the supernatural in the first place? Why did such oddities all seem to congregate to this one geographic place in particular? Where did these anomalies even originate from? And beyond all of that, were the answers to such questions even possible to find at all?
The more Ford pondered these wonderings on his own, the more frustrated he became by his own lack of any concrete answers for them. And so, one day he decided to take them to the Crystal Gems, hoping that, with their lengthy presence in the town, they’d have some useful insight on the matter.
“Why is Gravity Falls so strange…?” Rose repeated Ford’s initial question as she paced around his living room, the researcher and the other Gems all standing by expectantly. “That’s… a very good question…”
“A… question that you have some leads on, perhaps?” Ford ventured with a hopeful smile.
Rose took pause at this, taking a moment to exchange something of a stiff glance with her teammates before responding somewhat sheepishly. “Er… not exactly…”
“We’ve been trying to figure that out for decades now,” Pearl added, crossing her arms. “But it seems like no matter how hard we look, we never get any closer to finding any actual reasons as to why Gravity Falls is so bizarre compared to any other place on Earth. It’s been… aggravating, to say the least.”
“You don’t think there’s something you all might have… missed in your investigations, do you?” the researcher pressed, driven to get answers, as always.
“Nah, we’ve looked just about everywhere,” Amethyst remarked as she dropped down from the rafters, one of her favorite places to nap. “We’re just as stumped as you are, Science Man.”
“Perhaps this is something we’re not meant to know,” Garnet remarked, leaning against the nearby doorframe.
“B-but there has to be a reason!” Ford exclaimed fervently, pulling out his recently completed second journal and flipping through its pages. “All of this strangeness can’t just come from nothing!”
“Well wherever it does come from, we haven’t the faintest idea,” Pearl said, shaking her head empathetically. “Sorry, Stanford.”
“I can’t believe this…” Ford huffed, frustrated more with himself than he was with any of the Gems. After all, it was hardly their fault that this mysterious seemed so elusive. “Six years and three journals worth of research and I’m still no closer to finding answers than when I started! How is it so hard to figure out? How are all of these anomalies connected? And why here, of all places?!”
“It’s nothing to feel bad about, Stanford,” Rose interjected, placing a steadying hand on her partner’s shoulder as she offered him a small, reassuring smile. “After all, we’ve already discovered so many incredible, wonderful things here, and that’s something we should be proud of. Something that you should be proud of. And who knows? I’m sure if we keep looking, then one day we’ll find those answers you’re looking for. Together.”
Ford let out something of a disappointed sigh at this, but he found he was unable to remain upset for too long upon meeting the pink Gem’s warm, comforting smile. One that he only halfheartedly returned as he readjusted his lab coat with a hint of renewed resolve. “Hm, yes, well,” the researcher nodded staunchly. “In the meantime, I think what I need is to clear my head for a bit. A short walk in the woods might do me some good…”
“Oh, would you like us to go with you?” Rose asked with a willing smile.
“Normally I would,” Ford partially returned her grin as he escorted the Gems out. “But I think I’ll be fine on my own. And of course, if I manage to happen upon anything new out there, then you’ll be the first to know.”
Rose beamed at this, nodded in warm acceptance as the other Gems began the trek back up to the temple. Before she joined them, however, she stopped short, turning to Ford one more time as her expression turned a bit more sincere. “I meant what I said, Stanford,” she said, firmly, yet kindly. “I know you have what it takes to figure this out. It may seem impossible now, but I’ve seen humans overcome impossible odds before. And if there’s anyone who’s capable of doing just that, it’s you.”
Ford finally smiled fully at this, his spirits lifted by the pink Gem’s clear confidence in him, as often was the case. While still worried about his chances in solving Gravity Falls’ greatest secrets, at the very least, he could trust that he’d have her help in every step of the way. Which was why he fully meant what he said as he turned to head off into the woods before him, where one of his most life-changing discoveries yet was about to be found. “Thank you, Rose.”
The Gems were rather confused by Ford calling them down to his house for a very early meeting the next day, but immediately upon arriving, they could tell he was beside himself with excitement as he rushed about, preparing everything necessary before he began. And when he did, he started off with an elated announcement that he had, through what he only described as “divine intervention”, at last come across a lead as to how they might uncover the truth behind Gravity Falls’ strange properties. The Gems listened intently as the researcher presented his theory that the anomalies the town was so highly populated with came not from Gravity Falls itself, or even from their own dimension itself; but rather, they came from some other plane of existence, a dimension of weirdness that had somehow torn into Gravity Falls and leaked its strange anomalies into the town itself. Ford purposed that the only way to truly understand the connection between these two dimensions was to access this strangeness at its source: by constructing a machine, a portal namely, that could serve as a gateway to this world of weirdness that it all seemed to come from. And fortunately, the researcher had happened to come up with blueprints for such a machine, apparently all on his own.
Upon hearing all this, the Gems were somewhat skeptical to say the least. The vast majority of the explanation went over Amethyst’s head, while Pearl wondered if such a massive endeavor would even be feasible at all. Garnet admitted that her future vision gave her no clear answers as to what might happen if they went through with this project, and even Rose seemed somewhat hesitant, voicing her concern over what might happen if the Earth tried to connect itself to some distant, unknown world, much like what Homeworld had tried to do to it centuries ago. Ford was quick to placate her worries, however, by assuring her that this was vastly different from the now-defunct galaxy warp she had shown him on multiple occasions. And with this assurance and the trust Rose placed in it, she soon readily jumped on board, the other Gems following suit as they agreed to assist Ford with this project in any way they could, all in the hopes that they’d finally uncover the truth they had so long been searching for.
Of course, even in the midst of planning, the intrepid group was quick to realize just how arduous of a task this was going to be. They would require rare, fortified materials, ones that were not commonly purchased, and even they were, they’d be more than Ford could reasonably buy with what was left of his grant money. And while the Gems presented a suitable solution to that problem, there was still the issue of engineering. Pearl was rather well versed in the subject, but not necessarily to the extent that the portal would require, and Ford found himself falling short in the field himself, even despite his extensive studies in other sciences. Fortunately though, the researcher knew exactly who to recruit for the task: a former classmate and close friend he had made during his time at Backupsmore, Fiddleford McGucket.
Despite his obvious rural southern upbringing, Fiddleford was, by all accounts, completely brilliant when it came to engineering and mechanics. After graduation, Ford had remained in touch with him, and had learned that he had moved to California with his longtime sweetheart, settling down in Palo Alto to raise a young son in a nice home. Of course, Ford questioned his friend’s apparent dream of starting a portal personal computer company, believing that such an invention would certainly never catch on and that Fiddleford was largely wasting his impressive talents. But all the same, he was delighted to hear the mechanic’s solid agreement to journey up to Gravity Falls for a time to assist in the portal’s construction, ready to lend his skills to the effort wherever needed.
However, what Ford hadn’t made Fiddleford aware of prior to his arrival in Gravity Falls, was that they wouldn’t be alone in working on the project. The mechanic was somewhat caught off guard by the Gems at first, who welcomed him warmly as soon as they heard he was a friend of Ford’s. But as overwhelmed as he initially was, Fiddleford soon enough formed a loose camaraderie with the four of them, nothing as close as what Ford had with them, but still it was a mutually working relationship nonetheless. The researcher noticed that he worked well with Pearl in particular, the two of them passionate for their engineering craft as they collaborated on fixing up the final touches on the blueprints for the portal. And, once they had gathered the necessary supplies and everything was checked and double checked and even triple checked, the construction for the machine finally commenced.
They had decided to build it right underneath Ford’s house, in a deep, almost cavernous basement lab the Gems helped him dig out even prior to Fiddleford’s arrival, in preparation for this project. It was a spacious place, one that gave them more than enough seclusion to work on the portal unfettered by any external forces. The Gems’ physical strength was a massive asset in the physical labor of the construction, to the point that they even sometimes utilized fusions to get the bigger jobs done. Many a sleepless night was spent putting it together, the blueprints serving as their guide for what they were optimistic, almost certain even, would be their key to a world unknown. A world that certainly must have been filled with endless discoveries and possibilities just waiting to be found.
But in reality, it would be the key to a world that was anything but that.
After almost a year of tireless work and seemingly endless preparations, the portal was finally complete and functional. Of course, before anyone even thought of venturing through it to see what lay beyond its wall of radiantly glowing energy, it would need to be tested extensively to ensure everything was in safe, working order. And, despite some whispers of worries and concerns going in, the collective group met in the portal room one night, prepared to do just that.
They had wisely decided to send a dummy into the portal first, one that was tethered to their reality by a rope in the event that they could pull it back over as needed. The Gems hung close by as the portal roared to life, the mock representations of their gemstones glowing upon it as proof of their hand in its creation. At the same time, Ford and Fiddleford approached the safety line before the machine, a dummy held between them as they prepared to toss it in. There was an admirable amount of tension hanging within the room, tension that had been accumulating amongst the group for quite some time as a result of a number of current, alarming events. The one who was by far the most vocal about his anxieties concerning the project was Fiddleford, to the point that his ongoing pessimism and doubts had partially passed onto the Gems as well. Ford couldn’t help but be somewhat frustrated with their lack of resolve, including Rose’s as she had pulled him aside only a few hours prior and asked him if he was entirely certain he wanted to go through with this, a look of obvious dread on her expression clear. Of course, the researcher had quickly pushed her worries aside, assuring her that everything would go exactly according to plan and he meant it. He had come to far to back down now, when the answers he had searched so long for where finally within his reach. He wasn’t about to give up the chance to achieve greatness beyond his wildest dreams just because of a few unfounded fears and superstitions. He was a scientist; and after tonight, he’d be a great one.
And so, without any further deliberations, Ford and Fiddleford let the dummy go, the portal’s artificial gravity field pulling it forward towards its central glow. However, what none of them had anticipated was that the rope tying the dummy down would accidentally end up wrapping itself around Fiddleford’s leg just as the dummy glided towards it. The mechanic let out a fearful cry as he lurched forward as well, one that startled Ford and the Gems as they rushed to try and rescue the now airborne Fiddleford.
“Wait!” Ford exclaimed to the Gems as he tightly gripped the rope, noticing that they were all running forward towards the portal to try and save Fiddleford, who was now partially within the portal itself. “Stay back, its too dangerous!”
“For you, maybe!” Pearl retorted hotly, knowing that they couldn’t just leave the mechanic to his doom.
“But not for us!” Rose finished boldly, instructing her other teammates with a nod. Garnet, Pearl, and Amethyst rushed to grab the remainder of the rope behind Ford, all four of them giving it a mighty pull.
“W-we got you, buddy!” Ford shouted to Fiddleford, whose limbs were flailing wildly as his head remained on the other side of the portal. Fortunately, with the Gems’ help, he was able to swiftly yank the mechanic out of the machine and back into their dimension. As he began to fall back to the ground, Rose readily jumped to catch him, securely doing so before landing near the others and gently putting Fiddleford down. Ford and the other Gems were quick to group around him, though Rose held up a hand to stop them, her eyes already wet with healing tears in case they were needed.
“Give him some space,” she advised calmly, nodding down to the clearly shell-shocked mechanic sprawled across her lap. His eyes were huge, his pupils absolutely dilated as he seemed to stare up at nothing at all amidst his frantic, hurried breathing, near-constant trembling, and frantic, full-body twitching. While initially quite concerned for his friend’s wellbeing, Ford quickly got to the point that he was unable to contain his curiosity about what lay on the other side of the portal as he inched forward a bit, leaning down next to Fiddleford as he took his hand tightly.
“What is it? Is it working?” he pressed anxiously, ignoring the mechanic’s ongoing panic attack. “What did you see in there?!”
Fiddleford flinched at this, his twitching growing wildly out of control as he finally spoke. However, as he did, his words were a jumbled mess of nonsense that none of them could even hope to decipher: “VOTMZRIG IVSKRX OORY!”
“Fiddleford?” Ford asked, his worry returning as he exchanged a confused glance with Rose. However, before of them could try and figure out what was going on, Fiddleford suddenly sat up, his manner stark, almost robotic even as he continued staring forward, his eyes huge as he muttered something that left them all in absolute bewilderment.
“When gravity falls and earth becomes sky, fear the beast with just one eye…”
“Beast with one eye…?” Rose repeated, her brow furrowing in worried confusion upon hearing this.
“Fiddleford, get ahold of yourself,” Ford urged, placing a steadying hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You’re not making any sense.”
Fiddleford finally seemed to snap back to his senses at this, though he was hardly at ease as he jerked his shoulder out of Ford’s grip and sent the researcher a bitter glare filled with nothing less than absolute resentment. “This machine is dangerous,” he said coldly, shuddering as he glanced back towards the portal. “You’re playin’ with fire here, Stanford. This thing could bring about the end of the world! Destroy it before it destroys us all!”
“D-destroy the world?!” Rose exclaimed, quite alarmed by this as the other Gems let out startled gasps of their own.
“W-wha—I can’t destroy this!” Ford countered intently, knowing that Fiddleford had to be mistaken somehow. “It’s my life’s work, the key to answering everything!”
“I know what I saw in there!” Fiddleford shouted back as he stood, his hands in tight fists at his sides. “It was a nightmare, plain n’ simple! I fear we’ve unleashed a grave danger on the world. One that I’d just as soon forget. I quit! And I’d urge you ladies to do the same.”
And with that, the mechanic promptly turned and left, sparing not a single word to his former friend as he went to put as much distance between himself and this failure of a project as possible. For a moment, the most Ford could do was sit there, completely baffled by Fiddleford’s staunch departure, anger and betrayal building up within him until he happened to glance over and make eye contact with the Gems. All four of them were looking to him in apt shock, the slightest hints of suspicion and wariness filling their expressions as a beat of tense silence lingered before Rose finally spoke up.
“S-Stanford…” she began apprehensively, the portal casting looming shadows over her as she stood. “What did he mean when he said this machine could destroy the world?”
“R-Rose, I…. I don’t…” Ford trailed off, his manner somewhat shaken himself as he looked back to the portal. “F-Fiddleford didn’t know what he was talking about. After all, you know how anxious he can be.”
“That didn’t sound like mere anxiety,” Garnet remarked, her tone rather cold. “That sounded like fear.”
“What is on the other side of that portal, Ford?” Rose asked, not harshly, but very seriously all the same. “What did Fiddleford see in there that made him react like… like that?”
“I… it… i-it’s exactly what I said it would be!” Ford protested as he also stood, growing frustrated with Rose’s apparent doubt. “It’s the dimension where all of the anomalies here in Gravity Falls comes from!”
“But how do you know that for sure?” Pearl asked, raising an incredulous eyebrow. “What did you really have us build down here, Stanford? A portal to another dimension? Or something far more sinister?”
“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me!?” Ford huffed angrily. “The five of us have been working together for years now! How could you possibly think I’d ever even entertain the thought of building something that’s a detriment to mankind!? This portal is to provide humanity with answers, not senselessly destroy it!”
“Stanford…” Rose bowed her head somewhat, to the point that the shadows practically concealed her eyes altogether. “Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl, and I have been protecting humanity for centuries. I started an entire war just to protect it from our own kind. Nothing matters more to me than keeping this planet and everything on it safe. I want to believe that what we built together can benefit humanity just as much as you do… but if its true, if this machine really does have the potential to destroy this planet… then we have no choice. You have to destroy it, just as Fiddleford said.”
“B-but… but I…” Ford took in a sharp break, his hands curling into tight fists as he took in everything the pink Gem had just said to him. He could scarcely believe that Rose, of all people, was standing before him, telling him to abandon his quest for the truth for the sake of nothing more than tawdry safety. Which was why he needed to make her see reason, even where Fiddleford hadn’t. “N-no. He was wrong. This portal isn’t dangerous! It’s a tool to gain knowledge, not a weapon of mass destruction, I know it!”
“Are you sure, Ford?” the pink Gem asked as her teammates gathered close to her, unanimously looking to the researcher with growing distrust. “Can you look me in the eyes and tell me that this machine can be used for good? That it won’t cause the kind of destruction and devastation that could potentially wipe everything on this planet out? If you can honestly stand there and tell me that, then I’ll believe you.”
Ford was prepared to do just that, though as he did, he couldn’t help but hesitate as he looked past Rose and to the portal instead. And as he did, he was unable to deny the small burst of worry growing inside of him that perhaps Fiddleford had been right, that the portal’s purpose wasn’t as pure or altruistic as he had been led to believe. It was a preposterous thought, for sure, but even so, his obviously uncertain silence told Rose everything she needed to know.
“…Right…” she sighed sadly, glancing down morosely to avoid eye contact with the researcher. Her voice was soft, almost pained even as she shook her head before finally looking to Ford, grief-filled tears welling up in her eyes as the other Gems pressed even closer to her. “Then we’re done here.”
“W-what?” Ford asked, caught off guard.
“I said, we’re done,” Rose’s tone was a bit firmer now, as was her expression. “We’re not going to lend our help to something that could very well end up destroying this planet, a planet we fought so hard for and lost so much to protect. So that leaves us no choice but to cut our ties from this… a-and… and from you…”
The most Ford could do upon hearing this was shake his head, sudden grief overwhelming him as he realized exactly what he was losing here. Not only were the Gems leaving, but they were taking their help, their knowledge, their friendship with them. Friendship that he had come to value so highly and would be completely lost without. “R-Rose, no… y-you…”
“Let’s go, Gems,” Rose said simply, nodding for her teammates to leave. They did so, each of them sending Ford a rather unsavory, disdainful look as they did, all three of them quite upset with him for the kind of damage his machine stood to cause and how they had been dragged into helping create such a disaster in the first place. The pink Gem was the last to leave, though she did happen to linger near the door to the lab for a moment, letting out a dejected sigh as she briefly glanced back to the distraught researcher behind her. “I’m sorry, Stanford, but… this is just how it has to be. But… I do hope that all of this doesn’t turn out as badly as I think it might… And perhaps if it doesn’t… then we can start things fresh and new. But until then… this is goodbye…”
Without another word, the pink Gem departed, leaving Ford completely alone with his machine and nothing else. He couldn’t even think of anything to say to try and stop Rose as she left, torn amidst his palpable despair and his growing anger. And, soon enough, that anger at the thought of being abandoned by those closest to him, those who refused to share the same glorious vision as he did, those who only wanted to hold him back, just like everyone else in his life, completely took over. “F-Fine!” Ford shouted hotly, even though Rose had already left. “I’ll do it without you! I don’t need you, or the other Gems, or Fiddleford! I don’t need anyone!”
Almost as soon as the researcher had made this fierce proclamation, however, Ford’s intense manner quickly snapped the moment he heard a soft, almost indiscernible whisper come from seemingly nowhere. “W-what?” he asked, glancing around for anyone else only to find that he was the only one in the lofty room. “W-who’s there? Who said that?” Of course, he received no answer, the whispers only multiplying and growing in intensity, though he couldn’t make out a single word of what they were saying. And yet… by their tones, in a strange way, it almost seemed as though they were… mocking him. Laughing over a victory he had no clue about. Alarmed, Ford stumbled back into the far wall of the room, a hand placed against his head as he tried his best to quiet these almost deafening whispers, though to no avail.
In fact, if anything, the whispers only seemed to intensify in the following weeks, and they were far from the only thing the researcher had to deal with. His nightmares were abundant, his thoughts plagued by doubt, guilt, and terror of an unseen evil. He couldn’t so much as even look at the portal without recalling Fiddleford’s panic-stricken words or Rose’s intent, firm warnings. Warnings that he feared he had failed to listen to and now it was far too late. For as time continued slipping by, so too did Ford’s own sanity begin to slip, leaving way for intensive paranoia and practically soul-crushing dread. With the Gems and Fiddleford no longer around to keep him anchored and active, the researcher fell into a deep seclusion, desperately pouring over his notes all hours of the day and night to try and find a solution to the problem he had caused. He had abandoned the thought of sleep entirely, knowing that he couldn’t risk wasting even a single second, lest he leave himself vulnerable to the forces of darkness lurking all around him. The notes in the remaining pages of his third journal became frantic, sloppily written and completely telling of the deep fear of the man writing every single word of desperate warning and unending regret. By all accounts, he felt trapped, lost in a sea of anxiety, remorse, terror, and confusion that he was powerless to escape from. And yet, in the din of his growing mania, Ford did manage to reach one clear conclusion: that in light of the clear and proven danger that it could bring about, the portal could no longer remain operational. Even despite all of the time and work and effort that had gone into it, none of that mattered for the sake of protecting the world, just as Rose had said. Which was why Ford readily dedicated himself to undoing his grave mistake, his pride and passion all but forgotten in place of an overwhelming desire to set things right.
The researcher knew that the first and most essential step to doing so would be to separate his journals; the trio of books held not just the portal’s blueprints, but also instructions on how to get it running. Kept together, they could easily fall into the wrong hands and ensure global destruction. And so Ford hid his second journal away on his own accord, out near the local elementary school, where he assumed no child would ever be clever enough to find it and dig it up. For his first and third, journals, however, the researcher wanted to be completely unaware of their whereabouts, knowing that it would be impossible for someone to amass their locations from him if he was ever put in such a forced position. Ford knew that his research should be left in the hands of two individuals he trusted above all else; though giving his rapidly increasing paranoia, such trust was hard to find. However, he did manage to eventually come up with the only two people he could turn to amidst all this upheaval, two people that he could only hope with every fiber of his being would not fail him now.
Winters in Gravity Falls were known for being absolutely brutal and this one was no exception. The brisk, frigid, snow-filled air left Ford in quite a shock as he ventured out into it, making the relatively short trek up the hill towards the Crystal Temple. It was a voyage he had made more times than he could even count, but something about this trip up there felt so incredibly different than any other he had made before. Perhaps it was the unbearable wintry chill, perhaps it was journal 3 tucked securely into his coat, or perhaps it was his own growing dread and fear, but Ford could feel a sense of finality with every step that he took up to the temple. Even as he came to stand before its sparkling gate, he found his hand hesitating to knock upon it, knowing that doing so would, in many ways, be an admittance of defeat. The confession that he hadn’t been able to solve this problem on his own, that he needed outside help, that he had to trust someone as opposed to trusting no one. And yet, for as much as he hated that vulnerable, constricting feeling, Ford knew he had no other choice. So he knocked.
As he had hoped, Rose’s specific door slid open smoothly, the pink Gem standing in the frame of the gate as she looked down to the researcher, clearly perplexed by his unexpected visit. Ever since the disastrous portal incident, the two of them had only seen each other a handful of times, chance encounters ranging from rather awkward to tension-filled. In each of them, Rose had noticed how Ford’s mental state was steadily falling apart at the seams, and despite her cutting her ties with him before, she had made the selfless offer to try and help him, an offer that had always been bitterly rejected. In light of everything that had happened even the researcher’s once strong trust in the pink Gem had eroded away as he blamed her for not knowing of the true dangers that lurked within the town she had called home for much longer than he had. Dangers that, had he been warned of in a more timely manner, would have perhaps been foiled and evaded altogether.
Still, it was too late to change the past now, something that Ford knew all too well as he stood before Rose, who was still admittedly quite confused even as she addressed him. “Stanford…” she said, her voice soft and sad. “W-what… what are you doing here?”
Ford took in a deep breath to steady himself, deciding to get right to the point as he pulled journal 3 out of his coat. “I need your help,” he said, presenting the book to the pink Gem. “There’s not much time left and I have to get rid of this in a secure way before its too late. I’ve already hidden the second one a-and I have someone coming to take the first one away. And so… I was hoping that you would take the third one…”
“Why?” Rose asked, her expression unreadable as she looked between the researcher and his journal.
“Keeping them together is far too much of a risk,” Ford said rather matter-of-factly. “If someone were to find the portal’s blueprints contained within them, then the entire universe could-”
“I know why we need to separate the journals, Ford,” the pink Gem interjected. “What I meant was why do you want me to take one of them?”
Because I trust you was what Ford wanted to say, but of course, his pride wouldn’t let him. So instead, he went with the easier option. “Because you have the resources to properly protect it, o-of course.”
“…Right…” Rose sighed, her already saddened expression growing even moreso as she took the journal out of Ford’s hands. “In that case… I… I’ll find someplace for it… A place where it will be safe from… f-from him… and from anyone else who might want it for the wrong reasons…”
The researcher only nodded at this, far too burdened by so many thoughts at once to think of much else to even say to the pink Gem at this point. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have anything to say to him. “Stanford, I…” she hesitated, pulling the third journal close to her before she continued on a different tangent entirely. “I-if you don’t mind telling me, what are you planning on doing next?”
Ford sighed, shaking his head in slight shame as he turned away from her. “After the first journal is safely taken care of, I’ll be making a trip to the caves where I first happened upon the knowledge of… of you know who… Hopefully something there will be able to give me an idea of how to vanquish him from our world, once and for all.”
“T-then let me go with you,” Rose insisted, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure that together, we can-”
“No,” the researcher remarked coldly as he pulled away. “This is my mistake. I need to be the one to fix it.”
“But you don’t have to do that on your own!” the pink Gem urged earnestly. “I can help you, Stanford, I want to help you! You’re forgetting that I care about keeping this world safe just as much as you do, especially from someone as dangerous and demented as him. But I can’t do that unless you let me in again, please. We used to be such close partners. Such close friends… I’ve lost so many humans I’ve cared so much about in the past… I don’t want to lose you too…”
“Rose…” Ford began, finally glancing back to look at her and meeting her pained expression with one of his own. As much as he wanted to take up her offer for solidarity and support, he knew that he couldn’t. Largely because he knew her kindness and caring were things that he just didn’t deserve anymore. “I… I have to go it alone. I just… i-it’s the only way…”
The pink Gem moved to protest this decision, but for whatever reason, she held herself back, instead opting to glance down morosely, tears nearly welling up in her eyes but still not falling. “Well then… at least… be careful out there…” Ford nodded once again to this, making no promises, for he wasn’t sure exactly what he was about to face, though he resolved himself to be ready for it nonetheless, no matter what might happen. However, before he could depart, Rose stopped him one last time, a few of her pressing tears finally falling as her long pink curls were gently tossed by the winter winds rather solemnly. “Stanford…” she began despondently, her tone and expression creating a tight, almost unbearable pit inside of his heart as he listened to her fretful farewell. “…I’m sorry… for everything…”
The researcher’s shoulders hitched upon hearing this, and it took everything in him to not turn around at face the pink Gem and return her sad, sincere words in full. But once again, what little logic he felt like he had left overruled his emotions, to the point that he simply left her in silence, knowing that nothing he could say could ever hope to undo all that had gone wrong between them. Still, as lost and hopeless as he continually felt, a part of him hoped that someday he’d have the the chance to truly make things right with her once and for all, a chance to show her just how much he appreciated her, a chance to fix what had been broken.
A chance that, unbeknownst to him, he would never get to have.
New Mexico, 1982
In all the ways Stan had expected his life to go, this wasn’t exactly anything close to what he had been hoping for. The past several years had been a rough, wild string of scams, arrests, escapes, and almost countless near-death experiences. All of his plans to make a fortune for himself had failed completely, sometimes in quite disastrous ways, to the point that Stan had eventually given up on them entirely simply for the sake of surviving. Whatever necessities he had he usually acquired by stealing them, giving him experience enough that he had practically mastered the craft of thievery, among several other illegal acts. Of course, it didn’t help that he had more than his fair share of dangerous foes and rivals who wanted to do him in as a result of him either fooling them, robbing them, or giving them the slip. Still, with so many hungry for his demise and so few willing to help him out or take him in, Stan found himself quickly running out of options as well as out of hope that things would really ever get better. After all, he had been on his own in a constant state of “in betweens” for an entire decade now and despite all of his tireless efforts to make something of himself, it seemed like he never made any hint of progress a life that wasn’t completely in shambles. There had been the occasional moment where he wondered whether or not all of his struggling to simply get by was even worth it, if there really was ever a chance, no matter how slim that he could one day rise up from the rock bottom he seemed so deeply rooted in. And while some small voice inside his head often told him to give up on it all in those moments, another part of him, one that sounded suspiciously like a certain twin brother of his, urged him to keep on going, to hold onto his long-lasting stubborn nature and fight his way through the trials life threw at him, no matter how hard it might be.
And so he did.
Though really, Stan wasn’t sure exactly how much longer he could hold out as he sat alone in the cramped, filthy, bug-infested motel room he had somehow scrounged up enough money to afford for the night. Anything was better than sleeping in his car after all, and it also made him a little less vulnerable to all of the thugs who wanted his head. Still, that didn’t mean he was able to suppress a frightened flinch as a sudden knock sounded on the door of the room, a knock that prompted him to quickly grab his baseball bat before he even thought of going to answer it.
“J-just give me a few more days, Rico!” Stan shouted, knowing that the aforementioned cartel boss was his most recent and most dangerous foe at the moment. “I’ll pay your goons back, I swear!”
Fortunately, on the other side of the door wasn’t any murderous mafia member or belligerent brute, but rather only a mailman, who stopped by just long enough to slip a postcard through the door slot before going on his way. Of course, Stan was rather surprised by this as well, especially since he couldn’t recall the last time he had gotten any mail from anyone, especially such an odd looking postcard from some place he had never heard of called Gravity Falls. But as he turned it over, he was quickly met with a message that shocked him more than almost anything he had seen in his travels thus far:
“PLEASE COME!” – FORD
Needless to say that upon seeing such an urgent plea from his brother of all people, Stan was completely floored. Ford hadn’t tried to get in contact with him even once since he had been kicked out by their father years ago, yet all of the sudden, he was reaching out to him, seemingly out of nowhere with such a terse, mysterious request to make such a long journey out to see him? Stan could scarcely believe it and even beyond that disbelief he could hardly be happy about it. After all, Ford had just as much of the blame for the disaster his life had become as anyone else, maybe even moreso given that he could have at the very least stuck with him as opposed to leaving him lost and alone for his own selfish purposes. A years’ old anger burned within Stan’s gut as he thought about his brother’s callous betrayal, and it was almost enough to get him to crumble up the postcard and throw it in the trash without a second thought. And yet… he couldn’t deny that he was also curious. Ford must have requested him to come for a reason, one that he hadn’t the faintest clue about but wanted to know nonetheless. And as much as he knew he shouldn’t even give his brother the time of day after what he had done a decade ago, Stan ultimately knew that he couldn’t stay away.
And so with nowhere else to really go, Stan figured he might as well at least go check things out on Ford’s end. After all, what was the worst that could happen?
The drive from New Mexico to Oregon was a long, boring one, but Stan made reasonably good time, only taking stops to siphon gas from other cars at the occasional fuel station or raid an unattended check-out counter for snacks. And soon enough, he reached the backwoods town of Gravity Falls, which was completely buried by snow, much to Stan’s immense aggravation as he made it there with only a light, soiled jacket to keep him warm. All the same, the cold didn’t bother him as much as his growing dread did as he approached Ford’s door, knowing well that this meeting could be the second chance between them that he had always secretly hoped for. Either that, or it would serve to tear them apart even more than time and distance alone already had.
“Alright, Stan,” he said to himself, trying to instill as much confidence as he could as his hand hung over the door, ready to knock. “You haven’t seen your brother in over ten years. But its ok. He’s family. He won’t bite.”
With this final self-assurance, Stan knocked on the door, only for it to partially swing open seconds later, revealing a crossbow-wielding Ford behind it. “Who is it?!” he demanded sharply, his exhaustion-marred face awash in paranoia and anxiety as he aimed his weapon directly at his startled brother. “Have you come to steal my eyes?!”
Stan hesitated before saying anything as he leaned away from the tip of the arrow being pointed at him, knowing that for all of the possible greetings he had been expecting from Ford, this had not been one of them. “Well, nice to know I can always come to you for a warm welcome,” he remarked, not really knowing how else to start but with dry sarcasm as he raised an eyebrow at his brother.
“Stanley,” Ford sighed in slight relief as he lowed his crossbow a bit, though he still kept a firm grip on it nonetheless. “Did anyone follow you? Anyone at all?”
“Yeesh, no,” Stan scoffed, rolling his eyes. “By the way, hello to you too, pal—whoa!”
Quite unexpectedly, Ford pulled him inside the house, slamming the door shut behind them and locking it tight before pulling a flashlight out and shining it directly in his brother’s eyes. “Ah! Hey!” Stan protested, pushing Ford away from him as he blinked the painful light out. “What’s the big idea here, poindexter?!”
“S-sorry, I just had to make sure you weren’t…” Ford trailed off, a brief look of fear flashing over his features before he quickly shook it out of his head. “Uh… i-it’s nothing. Come in, come in,” he motioned to the next room, swiftly walking into it as Stan followed, quite confused about his brother’s apparently frantic manner.
“Uh, you gonna explain what’s going on here?” he asked with something of a worried frown. “You’re acting like Mom after her tenth cup of coffee.”
“Listen,” Ford spun around intently, gripping a burgundy book with a golden six fingered hand on its cover tightly. “There isn’t much time. I’ve made huge mistakes and I don’t know who I can trust anymore. What I’ve done could end up putting the entire universe at jeopardy and for all I know it might be too late to stop even that.”
Stan paused upon hearing this, his concern turning into surprise as he looked at his distraught brother with wide eyes. While he had no real clue about what Ford was talking about, he still acted against his better judgement and placed a hand on his shoulder, hoping that he could offer him some kind of much-needed emotional support. “Hey, uh, easy there. Let’s talk this through, ok?”
Ford shook his head bitterly, almost smiling sardonically though not quite. “I’m afraid this isn’t something that can simply be ‘talked through’, Stanley… Instead… I have something to show you. Something that you won’t believe.”
“Look, I’ve been around the world, ok?” Stan remarked dryly. “I’ve seen more crazy shit in my time than you probably have sitting here in this comfy cabin of yours. Whatever it is, I’ll understand.”
“There is nothing about this I understand,” Stan said stiffly as him and Ford stood in the shadow of the massive machine in the basement. By all accounts it looked like something out of a bizarre sci-fi dream, with its incredible metallic structure and the arrangement of various gemstones fixated to its edges. Fortunately though, despite Stan’s absolute bewilderment by it, Ford was quick to explain.
“It’s a trans-universal gateway,” he began, sending the portal something of a bitter glare in light of all it had helped take from him. “A punched hole through a weak spot in our dimension. I created it to unlock the mysteries of the universe, but it could just as easily be harnessed for terrible destruction. That’s why I shut it down and hid my journals, which explained how to operate it. There’s only one journal left, and you are the only person I can trust to take it, Stanley.” With this, the researcher handed his first and final journal off to his brother, his expression deeply sincere, pleading almost as he continued. “I have something to ask of you. Remember our plans to sail around the world on a boat?” Stan couldn’t help but smile, hope filling his expression and his heart for the first time in years at the mention of the mention of his long-lost childhood dream. A dream that Ford was all too quick to shoot right to the ground once more. “Take this book, get on a boat, and sail as far away as you can!” he demanded urgently. “To the edge of the Earth! Bury it where no one can find it!”
For a moment, Stan was completely dumbfounded, especially as Ford turned away and stepped towards the portal without sparing him another word. But after his initial shock wore of, absolute rage replaced it instead, because how dare Ford tell him to come all the way up here just to take some dumb book and hide it far away, how dare Ford hardly even consider the possibility that they could use this chance meeting to reconcile again after all these years, how dare Ford get his hopes up for them being actual brothers again, only to dash them all so openly and so completely. “T-That’s it?” Stan spat harshly, glaring at his brother in absolute disbelief. “You finally wanna see me after ten years and its to tell me to get as far away from you as possible?!”
“Stanley, you don’t understand what I’m up against,” Ford rationalized frenetically. “What I’ve been through!”
“No, you don’t understand what I’ve been through!” Stan countered fiercely. “I’ve been to prison in three different countries! I once had to chew my way out of the trunk of a car! You think you’ve got problems?! I’ve got a mullet, Stanford! Meanwhile, where have you been? Livin’ it up in your fancy house in the woods and selfishly hoarding your college money because you only care about your damn self.”
“I’m selfish?” Ford scoffed, completely appalled at such an accusation. “I’m selfish, Stanley?! How can you say that after you cost me my dream school!? I’m giving you a chance to do the first worthwhile thing in your entire life and you won’t even listen!”
“Well, you listen to this: you want me to get rid of this dumb book so badly? Fine,” Stan growled, pulling a lighter out of his pocket and striking it as he held the flame right underneath journal 1. “I’ll get rid of it right now!”
“No!” Ford gasped, launching forward in an attempt to grab the book out of Stan’s hands before it could catch fire. “You don’t understand!”
“You said you wanted me to have it, so I’ll do whatever the hell I want with it!” Stan contested, yanking the journal back from him, even as Ford continued to struggle desperately for it.
“My research!” Ford cried just as the fire started to hit the journal. Unable to bear the sight of everything he had worked so hard for go up in flames, he did the only thing he could think of. In a fit of building panic that finally rushed to the surface at that moment, Ford pounced at Stan, who easily tripped his much less physically adept brother up before taking the journal and running back towards the nearby lab with Ford in hot pursuit. “Stanley! Give it back!”
“You want it back?!” Stan snapped as Ford roughly shoved him against the portal’s control panel. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that!” Of course, what neither of them noticed as they continued their heated physical struggle was that, in their carelessness, they had slammed against several of the key buttons that activated the portal, and in the midst of their furious fighting, they hardly even noticed as it began to roar to life in the other room. “You left me behind, you jerk!” Stan shouted as he pulled his hardest against the journal. “It was supposed to be us forever! But then you went and ruined my life!”
“You ruined your own life!” Ford shot back, acting on impulse alone as he kicked Stan squarely in the chest. It was enough to get his hands off the journal for sure, but it also inadvertently ended up knocking Stan right into the portal’s operating console. Or rather, the glowing, red hot symbol emblazoned on its side.
Stan let out a sharp howl of agony as his back slammed into the mark, which burned him instantly upon contact and branded itself heavily upon his skin. The pain felt so intense that it was practically white hot as Stan collapsed to the ground, anguished tears pricking in his eyes though he refused to let them fall amidst his continued outrage. All the same, Ford could only watch in newfound shock as his brother writhed in pain on the ground before him, knowing that he was completely responsible for this horrific accident. “Stanley!” he cried fearfully, unsure of what to even to do help him. “Oh my gosh! I-I’m so sorry! Are you alri-”
Ford was abruptly cut off by a sudden left hook as Stan jumped upward, still reeling in pain from the burn on his back, though he hardly let that stop him now. After all, he had been holding back years of frustration and fury towards his brother; as far as he was concerned, there was no better time to let it all out than right there and right now. “Some brother you turned out to be!” Stan growled bitterly as Ford stumbled backwards, tripping over the portal switch, though he was quick to catch himself, ignoring its ever-intensifying glow. “You care more about your dumb old mysteries than your family? Well then you can have them!” With this outraged proclamation, Stan shoved the journal into Ford’s arms hard, not noticing as he pushed him over the line on the ground before the portal. And sure enough, as soon as the researcher was over it, the portal’s gravitational pull began dragging him up in the air towards it, much to the shared alarm of both brothers. “W-whoa! Hey, what’s goin’ on?!” Stan exclaimed as he ran forward a bit, especially as Ford let out a terrified cry of distress as he drew ever closer towards the portal’s all-encompassing light.
“S-Stanley!” he shouted, desperately struggling to tether himself back down to the ground and away from the portal, for he now knew exactly where it led. And, considering everything, it was no place that he ever wanted to go to. “Stanley, help me!”
“W-what do I do?!” Stan exclaimed, anxiously looking around for any way to stop this amidst his practically paralyzing shock.
“D-Do something!” Ford begged, flailing wildly in the air as his lab coat began to be sucked into the portal behind him, the rest of him quickly going right along with it. Which meant that, even if there was something Stan could do, it would be far too late. “Stanely!” he cried, knowing he had only seconds left as he threw the journal as far away from him as he could. “Please! Tell Rose Quartz I’m sor-”
The researcher never got to finish this final plea. For in a blinding flash of light, the portal swallowed him completely, whisking him away to whatever nightmares awaited on the other side. The force of this explosion of energy was enough to knock Stan back towards the other and of the room, the journal flying somewhere behind him. And when the light faded and everything had settled, he was able to gather his bearings only enough to notice two things: the portal was shutting itself off upon this great explosion of power.
And his brother was gone.
“S-Stanford?” Stan asked quietly, his entire body trembling from the lingering pain on his back as he slowly picked himself up. Indeed, the only thing of Ford that remained in the room where his glasses, which must have fallen off and landed near the portal in all of the chaos. But all the same, the realization of what had just happened was enough to shake Stan out of his initial shell-shock and right into frantic, distraught action. “Stanford! Come back! I-I didn’t mean it!” The last of the energy was fading from the portal as Stan reached it switch, and even despite yanking it as hard as he could, the machine remained devoid of any newfound activity. “I just got him back! I can’t lose him again!” he cried desperately, doing everything he could to try to get some kind of reaction from the portal, some kind of hope that Ford was still somehow within his reach. “Augh! Come on! Stanford!”
Stan froze as he heard only his own voice echo through the portal’s empty center, which Ford was now completely lost to. And at that moment, the reality of it all came crashing down at him all at once; his brother was gone, and all because of his own frustration and foolishness. For in the thoughtless heat of the moment, he had pushed Ford over that line and into that portal, launching him into whatever unknown, distant dimension it likely led to. Honestly, for all Stan knew, Ford’s life could have ended the moment he passed through the now-defunct machine, a thought that certainly terrified him, but an actual possibility nonetheless.
There was simply no way to know where or how his brother was, which was why the most Stan could really think to do was retrieve journal 1 from the floor and frantically flip through its pages, hoping that it provided some kind of answer. However, he was quick to find that its information was fractured and incomplete, the tail end of the book only referencing that its chronicles were continued in some unknown second journal. A rush of despair filled Stan as he realized he had no idea what to do about any of this, especially with only the scattered bits and pieces of instructions he had at his disposal. Yet he didn’t have much of a chance to think about what he could possibly do before the elevator in the lab suddenly burst open, a large, pink-haired woman rushing out of it and running into the portal room with wide eyes of alarm.
“Stanford!” she cried, clearly distraught as she came to stand before the portal, not even noticing Stan’s presence as he hung back towards the other end of the room, watching the woman in surprised confusion. “N-no… H-he… he didn’t… H-he said he was only going to… I didn’t think…  How could he just… leave like this?”
“Uh…?” The woman gasped as she overheard Stan behind her, spinning around swiftly to face him. He flinched under the tearful, wide-eyed intensity of her gaze, though the way she spoke his brother’s name, so softly and so painfully, was what rattled him more than anything else.
“S-Stanford?” she asked, her movements slow and uncertain as she approached him. “What… w-why do you look so… How did you…?” she paused, bewilderment washing over her expression before stark realization and deep suspicion filled it instead. “Wait… you’re not… w-who… who are you? And why do you look so much like… like him?”
Stan didn’t answer right away, mostly since this woman’s sudden appearance and confusing line of questioning had caught completely off guard amidst his still ongoing shock from what had just happened with the portal. Nonetheless, he answered her rather stiffly and awkwardly all the same. “Who, you mean Ford? Uh, that’s cause I’m his twin brother: Stanley.”
“T-twin… brother?” she asked, apparently baffled by even the idea alone. “Stanford never… he didn’t say anything about having a brother…”
“Ugh, why does that not surprise me?” Stan huffed, a bit of his former bitterness towards Ford returning upon hearing this. “And who exactly are you supposed to be, pinky? You can’t be his girlfriend; there’s no chance in hell a nerd like him would ever be able to land a looker like you, so what, are you like his secretary or therapist or something?”
“Wha—no,” the woman shook her head, still clearly confused. “I’m Rose Quartz, leader of the Crystal Gems. My teammates and I are… o-or rather… we were close friends and research partners with Stanford… But now…” She trailed off as she looked back at the portal before turning back to Stan intently. “Please, tell me what happened here. Did Ford really just… walk into that awful machine willingly?! Even though he knows exactly what and who is waiting on the other side of it?!”
“Uh, he didn’t just walk into it,” Stan remarked, scratching the back of his neck guiltily. “I sort of—I-I mean, he kinda… fell into it… on accident?”
Fortunately, Rose seemed to buy this lie, though all the same, her lovely expression marred with grief and misery it fully hit her that Ford was seemingly lost forever. Tears, ones that were lightly sparkling with what looked like some kind of magic, flowed down her cheeks as she let out a broken, despondent sob. She shook her head sadly as she took a step towards the deactivated portal, looking towards the copy of the gemstone resting over her own navel that was positioned near its base. “T-this is all my fault…” she muttered morosely. “If only I had shown up sooner… I-if only we hadn’t built this… disaster in the first place, then maybe he’d still be here… But I wasn’t and we did… and now… he’s gone…”
“Uh… look,” Stan said, unable to keep himself from empathizing with the mournful pink Gem as he shared much of her heartbreak himself at the moment, though he didn’t let his show as clearly. “I… I don’t know what things were like between you and my brother, but, uh… don’t worry. I’m gonna do everything I can to open this thing back up and get him outta there, not matter how hard it is or how long it might take.”
Rose jolted at this, her tears practically freezing as she looked back to Stan in apt alarm. “W-what?”
“Um… I said I’m gonna figure out a way to get this machine working and bring Ford back,” Stan repeated, rather surprised by her suddenly intense manner. “He left one of his creepy journals here with me, so I guess all I gotta do is find the other ones and then they’ll tell me how to open that portal thing again and he’ll be as good as saved. R-right?”
The pink Gem’s expression was severe as she turned to face him fully, her sadness fading away into authority as she stood, towering over him almost menacingly. “No,” she said, her gentle tone strangely rigid and harsh. “This portal is never going to be opened again. Not my you, or by me, or by anybody else.”
“W-well what about Ford?!” Stan snapped in sudden anger and disbelief. “We can’t just leave him on the other side of that thing! I thought you said you were his friend, why wouldn’t you wanna help him?!”
“I do want to help him!” Rose retorted earnestly. “More than anything else! But we can’t. This machine is a huge risk to this entire planet! Starting it up again could result in the end of this world, of all worlds! For centuries, I’ve taken up the responsibility to protect the Earth and everything on it and that comes first. Above everything… or everyone else.”
“But that’s my brother in there!” Stan exclaimed hotly. “He may be a stubborn know-it-all who left me behind years ago, but he’s still my family! And I’m not about to walk out on him like he walked out on me; I’m stayin’ right here and doing everything I can to get that portal up and running again. I don’t care how risky it might be or what it might cost, I’m saving my brother! Whether you or anyone else likes it or not!”
Rose took in a deep, evening breath at this, her manner cold but not hostile as she stared down at Stan intently, firmly asserting her position as intently as she could. “I can’t—I won’t let you do this. If there was any other way to save Stanford then I would take it in an instant. But as it stands, this portal must remain shut down, it not destroyed entirely. And I’m prepared to do whatever I must to keep it from causing any more harm than it already has.”
“S-so what?” Stan shout back defiantly. “You’re gonna try and stop me, pinky? Is that how this is gonna be?! What makes you think you’ll even be able to keep me from blowing that damn portal wide open, huh?”
“Because,” Rose said staunchly, calmly even. “I know where the third journal is. It’s hidden somewhere safe and secure, a place only I know about. And without it, you’ll never be able to get this portal running again.”
Stan took pause at this, his jaw dropping in surprise at such a pertinent revelation. Of course, his shock only lasted for a moment before it exploded into desperate fury once again. “Y-you have to give me that book!” he shouted almost pleadingly. “It’s the only way I’ll ever be able to save him, please, just-”
“No,” the pink Gem harshly cut him off. “He asked me to keep that journal from falling into the wrong hands, and that’s exactly what I intend on doing. It’s the least I can do for him after… all this…”
“B-but I need it! You don’t understand, I-”
“No, you don’t understand!” Rose interupted intensely. “I’ve given up so much to keep this planet safe; I refuse to let it meet its end as long as I’m around to stop it. This portal is far too dangerous to even exist. It was a mistake to build it. We should have never tried to tamper with forces we didn’t understand, but we did. And while its too late to take that back now, its not too late to keep those forces at bay. Even if that means… even if that means we’ll never see Stanford again…”
By now, Stan’s fists were clenched so tightly at his sides that they were shaking. Still, he kept his violent urges held back against the pink Gem, though he was more than fine with letting his outraged words fly freely. “Fine! If you won’t help me, then I’ll figure out a way to do it without those other two stupid journals! You can try to stop me all you want, pinky, but I’m not giving up until Ford is back here safe and sound, even if it takes the rest of my life! And no one, especially not you, is gonna keep me from bringing my brother back home!”
Rose sighed, clearly exasperated, though for whatever reason, she didn’t react in anger as she simply walked past Stan, intending on leaving. “There really is no changing your mind, is there?” she asked, glancing back over her shoulder at him. “Well, that’s alright. Go ahead and do whatever you feel like you need to. But you should know that I’m going to do whatever I have to do to keep that journal away from you, to keep you from reopening this portal, and to keep this planet safe. And… I’m sure that if Stanford was still here… he’d do the exact same thing.”
Without another word, the pink Gem left, her resolve every bit as clear as Stan’s as he remained standing before the portal, journal 1 still held tightly in his grasp and guilt still weighing heavy on his heart.
Guilt that would linger over him like a constant shadow for the next thirty years.
The next several weeks went by in a dreary, exhausting blur. Stan spent every waking moment down in that basement lab, pouring over every tiny piece of information journal 1 had to offer on the portal as he tried everything he could to get it up and running again. Unfortunately, even with the notes that he had, his knowledge on any of the technology or science behind the machine was next to none, making things all the more difficult. His nights were sleepless, lost to worries and anxiety and remorse and so many other emotions it was hard to keep track of them all. The one upside to all of this was that he hadn’t heard from that pesky Rose Quartz woman since their first encounter, though the thought of her alone was enough to practically enrage him. To think that she had the very information that he needed to reactive the portal and get Ford back, but she refused to relinquish it out of some nonsensical altruistic duty of hers! Certainly, Stan reasoned, that in light of her staunch refusal to so much as even offer a hint of advice in the matter, Rose must not have cared about Ford as much as she claimed to. Then again, Stan hardly felt like he was much better on that front, seeing as how the only reason why Ford was now gone was entirely because of him.
Still, Stan knew that he couldn’t give up, no matter how impossible his odds were proving to be. Because giving up meant never seeing his brother again, and despite all of the mistakes they had made and the bad blood between them, that was one thought he simply couldn’t bear.
Yet even despite his resolve, as the weeks went by, Stan grew weary. Winter was finally starting to ease up somewhat, but that didn’t mean Ford’s house was any less drab and lonely. With most of his time spent working on the portal, Stan didn’t really get much of a chance to clean the hectically cluttered place up, though it wasn’t like he hadn’t lived in squalor before. Rather, what bothered him was that the already rather sparse supply of food in his brother’s cabinets was starting to run dangerously low. Which meant that Stan really had no other choice: he’d have to make a trip into the nearby town for supplies.
Journal 1 had already made mention of the Crystal Gems’ temple base just up the hill from Ford’s house, so Stan made sure to steer clear of it as he made his way downtown. Gravity Falls was apparently a rather small community, and he knew well that rumors traveled fast in small towns, much as they had in Glass Shard Beach, which meant that he’d have to keep a low profile, lest anyone become suspicious. While he didn’t really have a criminal record in Oregon yet, the last thing he wanted was to be reported to any police and hauled away, leaving the portal forever shut down and Ford forever trapped inside it. No one really seemed to pay him much mind, however, as he arrived at a small convenience store to grab a loaf of bread, the most he believed he could reasonably afford on what little money he had to his name.
“Just the bread then, stranger?” the elderly woman at the counter smiled warmly to him as he put it down. “That’ll be 99 cents.”
Stan simply nodded, reaching into his pocket to find only to find a packet of sugar, a paper clip, and a single peso. Nowhere near enough to buy anything really, much to his disappointment.
“Hey, that’s no stranger!” Stan flinched upon hearing a middle-aged woman behind him speak up. “That must be the mysterious science guy who lives in the woods!”
“You mean the one who’s always hangin’ out with those four magical women?” a widely smiling young teenager asked. “He almost never comes around here!”
By now, a curious crowd had started to gather around Stan, who simply tried his best to conceal himself by pulling his hood tighter. Clearly, these people were mistaking him for Ford, an idea he really didn’t want going around, considering the circumstances. “Uh, n-no, no, you’ve got the wrong guy,” he shook his head, trying his best to drive the attention away from him, though still the bystanders persisted.
“I’ve heard some strange stories about that old shack!” another teenager, and a quite awkward one at that, quipped.
“Yeah! Mysterious lights and spooky experiments,” the store’s young employee regaled, much to the rest of the crowd’s interest.
“They say it is full of magic and mystery!” a short-statured woman whose hair was in a large bun remarked brightly.
“Uh, i-it’s really not-” Stan protested, growing more and more nervous by the second.
“Gosh, I’d pay anything to see what kind of shenanigans you get up to in there,” the clerk’s husband said, putting an arm around his wife.
“Oh, me too!” the red-haired woman from before exclaimed. “Do you give any tours?”
“No, really, I-” Stan stopped short, glancing down at the severe lack of money in his hand as a newfound idea came to him. It was a risky one, given what lay buried just underneath the house, but he had find a way to be able to afford the essentials somehow. Which meant that at this point, he really didn’t have too many other options. “Um… y-yes! I do give tours! Ten, n-no, fifteen bucks a person!”
While he hadn’t expected too many takers to agree to such a high price, Stan was reasonably surprised when all of the townsfolk in the store eagerly cheered and presented their cash to him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen so much money, much less money that was intended for him. Money that he’d be more than happy to take if it meant keeping both himself and his mission to rescue his brother alive.
“Sir!” the first woman spoke up with an excited smile. “What did you say your name was again, you man of mystery?”
“Oh, uh, Stan…ford,” he said, somewhat uncertain at first as he quickly convinced him that he had done this before. He had taken up plenty of false names in the past, and while this particular one belonged to his brother, he knew just how much trouble it could keep him out of. So he took it. “Stanford Pines.”
With their money already in hand, Stan lead the eager crowd of townsfolk over to Ford’s house, escorting them into the foyer, which was packed with his brother’s impressive collection of scattered tech and various notes. Certainly if there was anything that would impress this excitable group, it would be found here. “Step right up, folks, to, uh… a world of, um… enchantment or whatever,” Stan said, somewhat uncertain about how to present any of this. Still, he grabbed the first thing he saw, which was some small, strange readio-like device, the functions and purpose of which he had no idea. “Behold, uh, the… nerdy science box.”
The red-haired woman leaned forward a bit to get a better look at the device, only for a sudden spark to burst out of it and strike it squarely in her eyes, making it go lazy before shutting entirely. “Augh! My eye!” she cried, reeling back in pain as the other townsfolk gasped in surprise.
“Oh! Uh, I-I can assure you that’s in no way permanent!” Stan quickly promised, though he had no real way of knowing that himself.
“I paid fifteen dollars for this?!” the woman scoffed, sending him an angry glare as the rest of the crowd began to mumble their disapproval amongst themselves.
“Uhh…” Stan glanced around, desperate to salvage this in any way he could, especially as he heard the first whispers of refunds among the group. Refunds that he couldn’t really afford to give, all things considered. Fortunately though, quick thinking was what he did best. “Y-you’re lucky you weren’t part of the last tour group…” he began, somewhat unsteadily as he grabbed the nearby scientific skeleton and dressed it up in a tropical shirt and shades. “They never made it out alive! …R-right?”
A beat of awkward silence passed at this, but fortunately it was soon broken by the slow-starting laughter of his audience. As it steadily grew into genuine amusement, Stan couldn’t help but let out a small sigh of relief as he realized that this could work. This could be just the of break in his almost constant string of bad luck he needed.
So he ran with it. It took a roughly a week for him to figure everything out, but with a little time and a little elbow grease, he began his latest, most promising business venture yet. After tying up the house, setting up ample flashy signage all around it, and using what he had on hand to create as many bizarre attractions as he could, Stan formally opened what he had decided to call the Murder Hut (though its name would eventually be changed to the Mystery Shack upon the suggestion of a certain purple Gem). The tourist trap did exactly as it advertised, luring people in from all over town and even beyond it to see the oddities put on display. Fortunately for Stan, Gravity Falls already had something of a reputation of being a strange little town, so the folklore basically wrote itself, allowing him to profit off of it even more. And profit he did. In just a matter of months, he had accumulated more money that he had to his name his entire life, money that he put to good use by paying Ford’s bills and keeping things up and running so he could continue on in his still quite tireless mission to rescue him.
If he was perfectly honest with himself, Stan found the tourist trap business to be by far the easiest thing he had ever tried his hand at; it played well to his ability to lie and scam and fool the masses into believing anything he said. After all, it was all part of the fun, so there was really no harm in it. Truly, this was a fresh start, one that came about from the very worst of circumstances, but proved to work out well enough in the end. Still, he made sure to cover his tracks well, formally burying any remnants of his harrowing former life in the remains of a faked car crash, his fake IDs and former crimes tucked away in a hidden box inside his newly created office. In fact, as time went on and his profits and his business grew, there were points where it felt like the mistakes of his tattered, poverty-stricken past didn’t even exist at all.
Still, not all was completely well. After all, Rose Quartz still resided up at the temple just a few minutes up the hill from the shack, and every single time her and Stan happened to encounter each other, tension and conflict usually ensued. Their disagreement over the portal situation was something neither of them could compromise on, to the point that their bitterness towards each other, as well as their harden resolves remained firmly in place for years. They were never able to reconcile over it, even as Stan ended up hiring a young musician who was infatuated with Rose, the other Crystal Gems somehow lost their memories of the entire ordeal, even as Stan ended up developing a close friendship with the small purple one, even as Rose herself gave up her form to bring a half-human child into the world. The contention between them always remained, just about up until the very end of the pink Gem’s existence. And really, considering all of the toil and frustration he had endured over the years as a result of having to do it all on his own, Stan couldn’t really say he held any regret over their rigid relationship. Perhaps, in different circumstances, maybe they could have been on good terms, just Rose apparently had been with Ford, a sentiment that the pink Gem had expressed to Stan herself just a few days before her end, but when it was all said and done, mere sentiments were nowhere close to enough.
Still, even despite Rose’s opposition, Stan remained hard at work on the portal for the next 30 years, to the point that he had developed a fairly steady routine. By day, he’d operate the Mystery Shack, conning tourists and raking in profits without hitch. But at night, he’d make the trip down to the basement, pouring over Ford’s old notes, teaching himself advanced scientific concepts, and working tirelessly towards one single essential goal:
Bringing his brother home.
Present Day
“I couldn’t risk letting anyone learning the truth and sabotaging my mission,” Stan said as he finally concluded his long tale. “So I lied to everyone: the town, my family, you three,” he nodded over to the Gems, who looked less than pleased with everything he had just heard. Even so, the conman decided to deal with them later as he instead addressed his nibblings. “Your parents, even you kids. I gotta admit it’s… been rough, working on this thing all these years all by myself. But in the end, I guess it all finally came together.”
“Came together?” Ford scoffed in appalment. “You could have destroyed our entire reality with this machine! How in the world can you actually stand there and be proud of that fact, Stanley?!”
“Well I would be proud if you would just thank me for finally coming through for you after all these years,” Stan retorted, crossing his arms. “But I guess that’s not good enough for you, is it, Ford? Should’ve expected that, seeing as how nothing ever is!”
The author was more than ready to shoot just as bitter of a retort right back at his brother, but before he could, Steven suddenly interjected. “Whoa, hey, wait!” the young gem implored fretfully. “You guys are brothers! A-and you’ve been apart for so long! You shouldn’t fight; instead you should be happy finally see each other again!”
“Yeah, that’s right!” Mabel added just as fervently. “Like I said earlier, you two gotta hug it out!”
“Pfft, yeah right,” Stan rolled his eyes with a cold scowl.
“Absolutely not,” Ford added, turning his nose up at his brother.
“…Well… at least they agree on something?” Steven shrugged, exchanging a concerned look with Mabel. At the same time, the young Gem happened to glance past her over at Dipper, who had said nothing since Stan had finished his story. Instead, he sat, his gaze fixed on the ground and his expression tight with what almost looked like conflict mingled with frustration, as if he didn’t know what to really make of everything he had just heard. And of course, in light of it all, his apparently bitter silence was more than enough to make Steven worry. “Um… Dipper? Are… are you ok?”
Dipper flinched at this, briefly glancing up at both the young Gem as well as his sister who looked to him with equal concern. Concern that, considering where he currently stood with both of them in light of what had happened in the moments preceding the portal’s activation, he really didn’t want. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” he quickly brushed the matter aside, still not saying much to either of them as he turned his attention to Stan in slight shame. “Um… Grunkle Stan? I, uh… I’m… sorry I didn’t believe you…”
“That’s ok, kid,” Stan nodded with a small smile of acceptance. “I probably wouldn’t have believed me either.”
“Alright, so now we know about everything that apparently happened,” Pearl interjected with an exasperated sigh. “But that still doesn’t explain we don’t remember any part of it that involved us! Right?”
“Right,” Garnet said as Amethyst simply nodded absently. “Our memories are still missing and we still need to get to the bottom of what happened to them.”
“So its time for one of you to start explaining things on that front,” Pearl said, glaring between Stan and Ford. “Particularly you, Stan, seeing as how you seemed to have apparently known something about this all these years!”
“And you didn’t bother to even tell us…” Amethyst muttered despondently, still averting the conman’s gaze as she scowled at the floor. “Just like everything else, I guess…”
Stan hesitated, frowning sympathetically to the purple Gem before he addressed her teammate’s concerns. “What, you think I have something to do with what happened to your memories? Please,” he scoffed. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about who or what jacked them, and I definitely don’t know why. But if you had wanted to talk to someone who might have known about all that, then you should have asked Rose before she up and left you three on your own.”
The Gems couldn’t hold back a collective gasp upon hearing this, all three of them silent for a moment as they exchange an appalled, yet slightly nervous glance. Steven shared in their stark concern, looking to them with wide eyes as he noticed just how doubtful they all seemed to be. Doubt that perhaps wasn’t reserved for what the conman had just said, but rather for what their beloved leader might have hidden from them for so very long.
Still, the Gems had no time to even question this line of logic before the lab monitor blared out once more with a proclamation from Agent Powers from above that quickly startled the entire group below. “I heard talking! It’s coming from downstairs!”
“Oh no! Its too late!” Stan exclaimed in apt alarm. “Those agents are coming for us!”
“Aw man, I was so spellbound by your dramatic tale I forgot all about those dudes!” Soos lamented.
“W-what do we do?” Mabel asked anxiously.
“Finally Gem-up and kick their butts is what we do,” Amethyst growled, a glare still dominating her expression as she pulled her whip out.
“We can’t,” Garnet asserted authoritatively. “Remember Amethyst, they’re after us too.”
“Wait a second… remember… that’s it! I think I know a way we might be able to defeat those agents!” Dipper exclaimed with a gasp of realization, reaching into his bookbag and pulling out the memory gun they had all taken from the museum after shutting the Society of the Blind Eye down. It had been a precaution that the Gems had suggested, though they wanted really no parts in handling the device themselves so Dipper had volunteered to do so instead. And it turned out this was a wise move, seeing as how it could certainly be put to good use for getting the agents off their tail now.
“Of course!” Ford grinned as Dipper handed the memory gun over to him and smiling every bit as brightly, clearly glad for the author’s excited adulation. “I don’t know how you managed to get ahold of one of these, but this is perfect! If I can just amplify the signal to a radio headset frequency…” Ford trailed off, doing just that as he connected the device to the radio tower he knew was above ground and working quickly since he knew well that the agents were on the approach. “Alright, that should do it. Now, everyone, plug your ears and get down!”
“That won’t be necessary,” Garnet interjected quickly before looking to the young Gem beside her. “Steven, you know what to do.”
“Right,” he nodded, throwing his arms out wide as a large pink bubble surrounded the entire group. Upon seeing this, Ford paused, his jaw dropping in apt surprise at the sight of the all-too familiar sphere, though the amazement and curiosity on his expression only seemed to grow as he glanced back down to the young Gem who had created it. Curiosity that was not lost on Stan as he noticed his brother’s marveling expression, one that he instantly understood and instantly disapproved of.
There was no time to address it however, as the blast from the memory gun charged up, unbeknownst to the agents still congregated outside the shack. “Sir, look! There’s a hidden door behind the vending machine!” Trigger exclaimed as he ran out of the house to meet Powers.
“Excellent,” the agent grinned in satisfaction at the near end of this lengthy game of cat and mouse. “Get me Washington on line 1! I’ve been practicing sounds of excitement for this very occasion. Hey, do you hear that?” he asked in reference to the steadily growing whirling sound, one that quickly grew to deafening levels as a heavy flash of energy poured out of the antenna hidden within the shack’s totem pole. The group in the basement was completely protected from its memory-wiping effects thanks to Steven’s bubble, but the agents above ground weren’t so lucky, as their sudden disorientation quickly proved.
“What? Where am I?” Powers asked as he placed a hand against his now throbbing head. “Why am I standing in front of some goofy, fun knick-knack house?”
“Stand down, gentlemen!” Ford ordered as he came to stand on the porch before the agents, acting on the impromptu plan they had all quickly devised in the basement. “I’ve been sent with the latest intel from Washington,” he took out the papers Mabel had handed him right before walking out, filled with zany colorful pictures she had drawn. Still, even despite their random silliness, Ford kept a completely straight, authoritative manner as he continued. “According to this very real report, the power surges in Gravity Falls were actually due to radiation from an unreported meteor shower. As for the claims of ‘aliens’ in the town, the images you apparently have on file were traced back to some young local prankster, making them completely and utterly invalid. A total embarrassment for your whole department. Luckily, I’m here to take this mess off your hands, but I’ll need all of your… floppy disks and 8-tracks… right?”
“Uh, everything about this case is contained on this drive,” Powers said, presenting said flash drive, which Ford quickly took.
“Well, what are you waiting for, a kiss on the cheek?” Ford asked quite harshly. “Get out of here before I have your butts court-martialed!”
“Uh, y-yes, sir!” Powers exclaimed, saluting as he quickly turned to his fellow agents. “False alarm, everyone!”
The rest of the squadron swiftly followed this demand, packing up into their cars and helicopters and leaving the property once and for all. As soon as they were gone, Ford disposed of the flash drive by handing it off to Gompers, who readily took it in his mouth and chewed away before running off. With the coast clear, everyone hidden inside the shack was quick to emerge, the kids rushing forward first, all three of them in equal excitement over the impressive act the author had just put on.
“Great Uncle Stanford, that was amazing!” Mabel exclaimed with a wide smile.
“Yeah! You nearly had me believing all that stuff you were saying, and I know the truth!” Steven said just as brightly.
“Let’s not go crazy,” Stan spoke up dryly. “It was serviceable.”
Ford ignored his brother’s sardonic remark, instead taking in the kids’ praise somewhat bashfully as he let out a small chuckle. “Thank you, kids, but please, call me Ford.”
“Sure, thanks, G-Great Uncle Ford!” Dipper interjected, both anxiously and excitedly, still quite starstruck by the author himself as he pulled out a pen and notepad. “So, uh… Would you mind if I asked you a couple million questions about Gravity Falls?”
“Um, w-well, I… uh…” Ford trailed off, his smile fading as he glanced up towards the Gems, none of who were looking to him rather fondly. Luckily, before he really needed to say anything, Stan stepped in.
“Alright, kids, its been a long day,” the conman said, already starting to usher them away. “Me and my brother have a lot to talk about. Why don’t you hit the hay, huh?”
“B-but, it’s the author!” Dipper protested, rapidly clicking his pen. “I’ve been waiting so long to ask questions about-”
“I said hit the hay!” Stan snapped, pushing both of the twins into the house, much to Dipper’s disappointment in particular.
“The same goes for you, Steven,” Pearl said to the young Gem, gently motioning up to the temple. “A… a lot’s happened today and… um…”
“You need your rest,” Garnet finished, though it was clear her tone wasn’t as steady as it usually was. “In fact, we all do.” She placed firm hands on both of her teammates’ shoulders at this, leaving them with the implication that their night would involve much less rest and more intensive discussion on exactly what was unraveling here.
Steven wanted to say something to both his guardians and the author at this juncture, but he didn’t exactly know what. So instead, he let out a small, sad sigh, following their instructions as he began the trek back up to the temple. The Gems began to follow him, but before they could get to far, Ford hurried after them.
“Wait!” he exclaimed, pausing briefly as they turned to face him, their expressions still as distrustful and uncertain as they had been the moment he stepped out of the portal. Something that honestly didn’t surprise the author that much, given their lack of knowledge of their former friendship, though in a strange way, it still hurt him nonetheless. “Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl, I-I…” he hesitated once more before dropping his voice down into a whisper only they could hear. “Is it true? Is she really gone?”
Pearl let out a sharp sigh at this, her glare deepening as she looked away from Ford fiercely. Amethyst still didn’t have much to say at all, which was why Garnet was the one to answer with only a solemn nod. A nod that, in a way, served to confirm what he had desperately not wanted to believe. “W-well then… I suppose the apology I had intended for her all these years will just have to pass along to all of you…” he continued with a remorseful frown. “I truly am sorry for everything that happened between us all those years ago. I made such a momentous mistake and I dragged you three and Rose into it right along with me. B-but… I intend to make up for the wrongs of the past in the present. I know you might not have much reason to trust me now, but I promise that I’ll do whatever it takes to help you three recover your lost memories. It’s the least I can do after… well, you know…”
The Gems were still silent upon hearing this, Amethyst hardly even paying much attention as she instead set her petulant sights on Stan in the distance, who only returned her thinly-veiled glare with a look of silent apologies that were nowhere near sufficient enough. Pearl briefly glanced up at Ford before wrapping her arms around herself tighter, closing her eyes as she refused to offer him so much as even a word. Which once again, left Garnet to be the team’s anchor, even if her manner was anything but strong and steadfast as it usually was when she let out her simple, yet sincere response. “Thank you,” she said, and with that, the Gems turned and began heading for the temple, leaving Ford with age-old regrets that only seemed to weigh all the heavier on him as he watched them go.
Of course, Stan was reminded of quite a few of his own regrets as Ford turned to him, tension filling both of their expressions as they knew they had much to sort out now. Aside from them, the only one still present was Soos, though he was quick to excuse himself in favor of leaving the incoming awkwardness behind. “Uh… I’ll just… let myself out…” the handyman said, though as he ran off, he was quick to excitedly dial is coworker up in order to fill her in. “Wendy, I’ve got something amazing to tell you. Clear the next fourteen hours!”
The Gems had sealed themselves away inside the temple ever since they got back, something that Steven honestly didn’t question that much as he got himself ready for bed. Still, the young Gem’s thoughts were far from quiet as he went about his normal routine, something that felt so strange in light of just how much had changed over the past several hours alone. However, it all came to a grinding halt the moment he happened to stop short and take a glance up at the picture of his mother hanging from the wall above the door.
From Stan and Ford’s respective recollections alone, Steven had managed to learn so much about Rose that he had never really known before. Of course, both of the brothers had told vastly different accounts based on their interactions with the pink Gem, one of them clearly viewing her very highly while the other one only held disdain towards her. And based on these two incredibly conflicting viewpoints, Steven was left not really knowing what to think at all.
On one hand, Rose and the other Crystal Gems had saved the earth from Homeworld. They protected humanity and still strove to do so. They curiously explored the mysteries of Gravity Falls alongside Ford, hoping to find tangible answers that could enlighten mankind. And yet… they had also unwittingly built an effective doomsday device, one that threatened the universe’s safety on more than one occasion. Even after learning about the machine’s true nature, based on what he had heard, it seemed to Steven like Rose didn’t really make any real efforts to try and fix this major mistake she was partially responsible for. The most she had ever really done was keep journal 3 away from Stan, but even that was a very touchy issue. For in doing so, she had effectively barred the conman from the information he needed to save his brother, which was, to the young Gem, a noble, selfless pursuit by all accounts, even despite the relative risks. A pursuit that Rose had fiercely, adamantly tried to stop up until her very end.
But then there was the implication that had left even the Gems reeling, that Rose might have known something about her teammates’ missing memories, that she might have even had something to do with their removal in the first place. It was something that Steven really didn’t want to believe, even despite the long-awaited answers it could possibly point towards if it was true. Because in all honesty, it just didn’t make sense. If Rose had cared about her fellow Gems and supported them as much as Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl always claimed, then why would she keep this part of the past hidden away from them? Why would she have left them in the dark for so long? Why would she have left them behind without even the faintest clue that a piece of each of their memories was missing, leaving them lost, confused, even fractured?
Steven shook his head, his brow furrowing in frustrated confusion as he headed to bed, finally looking away from the peaceful portrait of his mother. His mother, who always seemed to be at the center of so many mysteries that she had now become a mystery herself.
“Ugh, look at us,” Stan remarked as him and Ford stood side by-side in front of the downstairs mirror. The author had traded out his worn, ragged portal gear for more simpler attire: his favorite old tan lab coat over a red sweater and black pants. Yet even despite this shift in clothes, that didn’t mean the brothers didn’t look any less similar, even despite all of the years that had gone by. “When did we become old men?”
“You look like Dad,” Ford remarked with a bit of a wry smirk.
“Ugh, don’t say that,” the conman rolled his eyes, a hint of bemused disgust in his tone as both him and his brother broke out into a small bout of almost bittersweet laughter. Laughter that was, of course, all too quickly replaced with rigid formality once again.
“Ok, Stanley, here’s the deal,” Ford began with a small, somewhat tired sigh. “You can stay here for the rest of the summer to watch the kids. I’ll stay down in the basement and try to contain any remaining damage from the portal. But when the summer’s over, you give me my house back, you give me my name back, and this Mystery Shack junk is over forever. You got it?”
“You really aren’t gonna thank me, are you?” Stan asked, quite taken aback by all these rather harsh demands. Ford simply glanced downward, not even showing a hint of breaking his stoic, cold resolve on the matter, much to Stan’s frustration. “Fine,” he begrudgingly agreed, knowing that he didn’t really have much of a choice. “But on one condition: you stay away from the kids. They’ve already gotten in way over their heads getting involved with all this Gem stuff, and I don’t want them in any more danger. Because as far as I’m concerned, they’re the only family I have left.”
Stan made his point quite clear as he turned and began to head upstairs at this, though he did briefly stop short to glance back at his brother again. “Oh, and one more thing,” he said, his tone still firm and unyielding. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you looked at Steven down in the basement earlier. Just so you know, Sixer, he’s not Rose. He never has been and he never will be, and he doesn’t need you poking and prying at him trying to figure out how that works. He already gets enough of that from the Gems. So don’t be trying to always compare him to her like they do. Because whether you like it or not, Steven’s way better than Rose ever was.”
Ford said nothing in response to this, his glare sharpening just the slightest bit, though Stan didn’t see it for too long as he turned and continued on his way. In fact, neither of them made much of an effort to say anything else at all, for really, what could be said? So much had changed over the past thirty years, but for as much as had shifted, so much of it had also stayed the same, especially between the two brothers. Even despite the years of separation and doubt, they were still back the same place they had been when their close knit bond had fallen apart on that miserable night when they were teenagers. They were still so far away from the camaraderie and companionship they had always found in each other when they were simple, innocent children, cheerfully running across a sunny shore that now only existed in the bittersweet past.
A past that held no place in the now-tarnished present and the uncertain, unsteady future.
“Did you hear what they said?” Mabel asked Dipper as she stood near the attic door, trying her best to overhear what their uncles had been discussing. “I think Grunkle Ford said they’re gonna buy us puppies made of ice cream. Might be wishful thinking though…”
“Uh huh,” Dipper absently replied as he continued working on patching the pieces of the torn photos of himself and Lapis up, a project he had undertaken for the past several weeks and seemed quite deadest on now for some reason. “That’s nice.”
Mabel frowned at this, stepped away from the door as she noticed her brother’s refusal to so much as even glance up at her in his irritated manner. “Uh… w-well, aren’t you excited? I mean, you’ve always wanted to meet the author, and um, bam! Come to find out he’s our grunkle so… that’s pretty cool, i-isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is,” Dipper said, letting out something of a small sigh of annoyance as he continued taping picture scraps together. “It’s… really cool…”
“Um… Dipper?” Mabel began without really thinking, wanting to ask him exactly what seemed to be bothering him. Though given that she already had a pretty strong hunch as to what the problem was here, her nerves held her back as she went off on a different tangent entirely. “You… you don’t think we’ll turn out like Stan and Ford… d-do you?”
Dipper finally glanced up at this, stilling his progress on the pictures as he looked to his sister in slight confusion. “W-what do you mean?”
Mabel let out a worried sigh as she flopped down onto her bed, not hiding her growing concern this time. “I mean… they used to be best friends, but then they got all stupid. C-can… can you promise me you won’t get stupid?”
Dipper hesitated, something that alone made Mabel’s heart sink, though the flash of what almost looked like appalled anger at her question that ran across his expression did so even more. Still, whatever he might have wanted to say, he kept it to himself, instead simply looking down as he began putting the picture scraps away for the night and answered her in an unresolved mutter. “S-sure… Whatever you say…”
Mabel took in a deep breath at this, guilt filling her slowly as she kept her gaze towards him, even as he reached to turn the light out. “Uh… w-well, I’m… glad to hear that…” she said with a weak, fake smile. “Good night, bro-bro.”
“Yeah…” Dipper sighed as he lay down and purposefully turned away from her, the dejection in his tone clear. “Good night…”
Mabel sighed herself as she set her sights on the ceiling above, restlessness overtaking her amidst her ever-growing Fear. Fear that things were so incredibly possibly different now that it was almost impossible describe everything that had just changed. That tension and anxiety would wash over the tide of togetherness and fun they had known all summer. That the past would soon repeat itself in the present, no matter how much they tried to avoid it.
And that perhaps it had already begun to do just that.
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b-afterhours · 7 years
Text
For What It’s Worth (one-shot) revised
Summary: AU Bill in the 1970′s, meeting his wife and living a life of activism and travel. 
Inspired by asks sent to me imagining Bill in the 70′s. It gets fluffy in some parts too.
warnings: swearing, super light sexual comments.
She was packing sandwiches away inside a worn tan canvas and leather knapsack in the small kitchen, padding back and forth from the fridge to the counter barefoot. The windows and front door were wide open allowing the breeze in despite the January chill of '73. It was expected to heat up to fairer weather, it was California after all, you can't keep the sun away.
She stuffed two thermoses inside the knapsack, one with coffee and the other with homemade chicken and dumplings she had prepared the night before. Drifting through the window she could hear the slow bass beats of, I Heard It Through The Grapevine, from the outside garage. Delightfully she listened as she tied up a bandanna on her head to finish off the look of her high ponytail. As she got closer to the door she heard her husband muttering obscenities to himself as he tinkered with their wretched truck. They've had nothing but trouble with it. It was a wedding gift from her father, but frankly, it was just a piece of shit '65 Ford that he couldn't get sold off his used car lot. And with the miles on it, the transmission was on the verge of giving out.
"Are you gonna get it running, Bill?" She said warily but hopeful as to not discourage him from his work.
He huffed and pushed his shag hair back, out of his eyes. "Yeah..." he said focused as he screwed some bits on the engine. "Actually," he paused, "can you get behind the wheel and start her up for me? Starters acting up but... I think I got it," his eyes shifted skeptically.
"Antifreeze leak, yesterday. The starter today?" She muttered before climbing in the drivers' side. The truck swallowed her small frame, she looked like a child in the thing. Turning the key, the starter clicked a few times but – nothing.
"Shit," Bill exasperated. His wife hopped out the truck with a slight frown. "Don't worry I'll get it to work, promise," he assured. "You got everything packed and ready?"
She nodded, "just waiting on you, love."
"Well," he sighed, "just sit your pretty butt down." He winked. "I think I know what it is now." He shrugged his distressed jean jacket off  – which he's had since she met him – he was getting serious. He reached back down into the engine, the V cut of his pale hips showing as his cut off shirt rose up.
The truck was a piece of shit but she liked the view of her husband working hard on it that was for sure. Ten minutes had passed and it looked like Bill was getting nowhere while he basically just banged the engine with a wrench out of frustration. They needed the truck up and running to go to Berkeley. They were protesters – that's how they met – at a Vietnam protest years ago and they were still at it. Every year, every other month and even today they still couldn't believe they were still protesting this shit.
They had friends and family drafted in an unjust war. Bill narrowly escaped receiving that dreadful draft letter. Twenty-five was the cut off age – but his birthday was later in the year and they were scared. So two years ago, they got married and in the same year tried for a baby, so he'd be 100 percent ineligible to go. It was all for naught, he had just turned 27 and she was no longer scared of him leaving and coming back in a box. The baby though was still pending... They were too busy marching the streets in different cities across the country. Which meant they didn't really have a proper home base. They stayed with friends and family here and there or rented and bailed before the next payment. It was fun and free and they knew they were fighting for the right thing. Together, no less.
Bill glanced over at his wife picking at her nails impatiently. She glanced up at him through her lashes.
"Could you play something less depressing?" She said commenting on Tuesday's Gone.
Bill smirked. "It's Skynard, babe," he said which earned him a playful eye roll from her. "And besides its radio. We left the record player in Phoenix, remember?"
"Yeah, I remember," she sighed wistfully at the thought of it. She was surprised they hadn't run the needle dull on that thing, it was already old. They spent their evenings playing records, drinking cold beers and swaying together to Otis Reading Hits during their stay that scorching hot Phoenix summer.
"Wanna start the truck up again?"
"Is it gonna start this time?" She said climbing in the truck.
"I'll get you a brand-spankin' new record player if it does," he winked. She turned the key in the ignition, click! click! click! over and over and then, the engine roared back to life. "Hey," Bill cheerfully shouted. He slammed the hood down with a big grin of accomplishment on his face. Before getting in he tossed his tools in the truck bed, he never knew when the car was going to give him problems so better safe than sorry.
"So, you owe me a record player," his wife said sliding over to the passenger seat as he got in.
"Of course. Was planning to anyway," he leaned over to kiss her but she stopped him.
"You got some grease on your mustache," she said licking her thumb and rubbing it away. "And on your sideburn," she giggled as she took care of it and kissed him.
On the road, they listened to the tunes on the radio with the windows down. His wife put on her mirrored aviators and leaned into the side of him, kicking her bare feet out the window. Because of her laid-back position, he put a light arm around her neck and kissed the top of her head as he drove with one hand on the steering wheel.
"What did you pack for lunch," he asked.
"Soup and salami sandwiches."
"Extra mustard?"
"Yes, extra mustard on yours I know how much you like that nasty stuff."
Bill lightly laughed. As they drove on, he noticed her falling asleep as she slipped from his shoulder closer to the seat. He didn't dare disturb her, she was up in the morning before him getting everything ready to go to Berkeley. He reached over to her to scan the radio and stopped when he heard a tune he hadn't heard in some time – Fats Domino, Ain't That A Shame. He smiled to himself remembering when he last heard it. It took him back to the day he met his wife. ~~~
In Washington, DC, he was in town to see his buddies off to Vietnam in the fall of 1970. He would be lying if he said he didn't feel guilty sitting at a bar with them just before they went overseas on a big Navy ship. Neither of them wanted to go. The draft lottery was just that, a lottery. With his last name being Skarsgard, he had higher chances of not getting picked since it was further down the alphabet. But one of his buddies that he was currently having a beer with, had the last name, Steadman, further down the alphabet than his. It stuck alarm in him which he felt selfish for somehow ending up the lucky one when his friend didn't have that luxury. He remembered seeing good ol' Charlie Steadman at the pool hall, his long curly hair gone, now donning a fresh buzz cut and he knew, his friend was going off to the jungles of Vietnam. Bill lucked out but he hated thinking of it that way.
"Heard there's a nudie bar a few blocks away," his friend Joe said wagging his brows suggestively.
"You're already three sheets to the wind, Joe," Charlie laughed. "You were here before Bill and me!"
"Ah," he waved them off. "You two shmucks were takin' too long for me."
Bill was laughing at the both of them when he noticed the street steadily filling up with people out the bars front window. "What's going on outside," Bill asked straightening up in his seat to get a better look.
"More 'Nam, protesters and hippies," Joe shrugged, taking the rest of his Jim Beam to the back of his throat.
"And, Lyndon Johnson's in town for whatever reason, rat bastard," Charlie curled his lip.
"Johnson's just a bastard," Joe burped. "Nixon's the rat bastard," he corrected his friend.
"Lookin' pretty intrigued there, Bill," Charlie nudged him with his elbow.
"Just, never seen a protest this close up before." He hadn't taken his eyes off the crowd chanting, holding signs and marching the street. What he loved seeing so far, was that everyone got together to fight against the war from every creed, class, and color.
"Well quit your lookin'. Let's go," Charlie swung his legs around his stool and lead the way out into the middle of marchers.
With Joe and Charlie in their military uniforms, over the chanting, people would approach them offering to get them out of DC. To harbor them until the war was over, to save them from what everyone felt was a certain death. They would politely decline but they both loved and relished in the attention. Bill walked a little further ahead, away from the girls clinging on to his uniformed friends. The march began to stall as people approach a small park up ahead which harbored the hub of the protest. He pushed through to get to higher ground and to avoid getting crammed in.
He found a nice little spot by a birch tree at the edge of the crowd as the people huddled around a park bench. Stood on top was a guy with hair past his shoulders shouting in a loudspeaker delivering bullet points on the travesties of the war and preaching peace to the people as they cheered him on. Coming from the back end of the crowd he saw a few girls chanting with signs in their hands.
"Hey! Hey! LBJ! How many kids are you gonna kill today?!" They said in unison.
One girl lagging a bit behind them caught his attention. She was the shortest one. Her high waisted blue jean bell bottoms looking more like a skirt on her frame. Not even the heeled, brown leather Chelsea boots could help it. But her long straight black middle-parted hair that almost reached her rear is what caught his attention as it flowed in the wind like a curtain. Even from where he stood he could see the thick black mascara coating her long lashes and her rouge red plump lips. She was cute, he thought, stunning even. He took a look at the sign she had above her head, her message was simple, 'FUCK NIXON'. Just a quick as he saw her she was lost in the crowd and commotion.
"Bill! There you are!" Joe said catching up to him with Charlie right behind him not long after seeing the petite dark-haired girl he couldn't seem to shake from his mind.
"So," Joe handed him a lit hand-rolled cigarette, "nudie bar is just up the street from here."
Bill exhaled smoke. "Fine. Let's go. You won't be seein' tits for a while," he laughed.
"Oh fuck off," Joe grumbled. "I'll get your sister to mail me some pictures."
"Joe, you drunk ass," Charlie playfully smacked his head accidentally knocking off his military cap. "Sisters are off limits." ...
"Way to go, Joe," Bill grumbled shaking his head.
They were all begrudgingly walking back to the bar they had met at earlier that day since they had all gotten kicked out of Ladie Rouge because Joe wanted to be loud and grabby. They passed by the park again, most of the protesters had packed it in but still remained a hub of die-hards congregated around the same park bench. Though this time someone was strumming their guitar and crooning a folk song into the night. As they turned the corner, his buddies had bumped into some military friends they knew from boot camp.
"There's a little party going on not too far from here," One of the Navy men said. He only introduced himself to Bill by his last name, Johnson. "So what do y'all say? Up for it?"
Charlie and Joe, looked over at Bill to seal the vote. "Night's still young," he shrugged.
Bill's knees nearly pressing to his chest as he fit his long body in the crammed Ford Granada. On the way to the house party, Bill couldn't help but feel left out as all the other men talked about how fast they could assemble their rifles and how many sit-ups they could do in a minute. Fortunately, the house was close by saving him from having to just sit there out of the loop, nodding his head to things he didn't quite understand.
Upon arriving he could hear The Rolling Stone's being played loudly from the back garage of them home. He paused making sure this was the place but also because he didn't want to walk alone into a strangers party. The group was lagging behind him, he blamed his long legs for his strident pace.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. "This way man," Johnson said now taking the lead.
They walked into a decent party of 20 people give or take and he was promptly handed a Coors. He tossed his head back taking a few gulps to relax. Soon he was laughing along with his military friends and chumming it up after getting comfortable. Ain't That A Shame, began to play and he heard a few girls squeal in glee over the tune. He put a cigarette to his lips and turned his head in their direction to light it. When he brought the flame close to his face is when he saw her. She was sitting on the top of a dusty couch her feet planted on the seat cushions. A beer in her hand and a cigarette in the other emphatically singing along.
"You made, me cry, when you said, goodbye! Ain't that a shame!!" She practically scream-sang along with her girlfriends.
Seeing her by chance in the middle of a crowd of a Vietnam protest, he was surprised – shocked really – to see her now in the smokey haze of some unfamiliar garage. He could see tears at the corner of her eyes as she sang. Was she having a good time or was she sad? He wondered. The song ended had ended and his cigarette was still dangling from his lips unlit when he realized he was staring – too long. That even by his standards, wouldn't be deemed appropriate.
"Hey, you gonna use that?" Charlie pointed at the lighter still in Bill's hands, pulling his gaze away. He quickly lit his cigarette and passed the zippo over.
"You know the deal with her?" Bill quietly asked as he pointed behind him with his thumb.
Charlie peered over. "Who the blonde?"
"No the brunette, long hair."
"The one that looks like she's on the verge of tears?" Johnson said overhearing their conversation.
"Uh yeah. Is she okay," Bill asked.
"Her brother got shipped out last week. She's been a bit of a mess over it," he shrugged.
"Oh that's right," Charlie said. "Her brother's Marrow."
"Yup. Don't know why she's so upset it's not like she's got to dodge Cong bullets."
"Oh shit," Charlie quickly looked away from peering. "Don't look now, she's heading this way."
Bill felt a tap on his shoulder sending an icy chill up his spine that shattered his frozen state. "'Scuse me." He heard. He slowly looked over and then trailed his eyes all the way down to meet her eyes. He had to be more than a foot taller. She was even more beautiful close-up, heavenly with a bit of an edge which made his breath hitch.
"Yes?" He was able to muster.
"I'm just trying to grab a beer in the fridge, behind you," she pointed out.
"Oh! Right," he stepped aside and watched her bend down, her long hair sweeping to the side revealing the bareback of her white halter top. He felt his cheeks go hot noticing just a sliver of bare side boob. She turned her head, stretching her arm out towards him with a cold beer in hand.
"Need one?" She said with a slightly knowing smirk.
"Thanks," he said taking up her offer. He was thinking a mile a minute, how was he going to make this girl his? Which seemed outrageous to him, he didn't even know her at all he just knew there was a reason he ended up here in a crusty garage party with her. It couldn't have been just a coincidence. Just as she was about to pass him to go back to her part of the party he stopped her. "Wait," he said reaching for her unopened beer and with a slender finger popped that tab open for her.
"Thanks," she smiled at him. "You got another one of those?" She pointed at the cigarette perched on his lips.
Bill frantically searched the insides of his new denim jacket for his pack when he remembered it was in his back jean pocket. He gave her an embarrassed smirk as he handed her a Winston King. She put it to her lips expecting a lighter but instead he took his own cigarette, using the glowing hot ember to light hers. Looking up at him she watched as he nervously did it with a slight tremble in his hand, it was endearing and suave too. She took a drag and blew the smoke away from them yet never taking her gaze off him.
"What's your name?" She tilted her head.
"Bill. And yours? May I ask?"
"Francis."
"Beautiful," he complimented.
"Please. It was my great grans name. But it works I guess," she shrugged. "I go by Frankie mostly."
And from then history began to write itself. They talked for hours about everything and anything, late into the night while most of the party had left and some were crashed out drunk on the dingy couch. Joe and Charlie were chatting with some girls, hoping to get lucky for good time's sake. Bill and his beauty were drinking the last beers in the fridge, both good and buzzed, and laughing together in the little bubble they created for themselves.
"You know," she leaned into him, "you've got the prettiest eyes I've ever seen. So green," she said a bit slurred at the end.
Bill chuckled. "You've got to be the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," he admitted. "I saw you at the protest earlier."
"Oh, so you stalked me here?" She joked. "Did you see my 'fuck Nixon' sign? I've got it over there." She hopped off the bar stool to grab her sign behind the couch. She held it up above her head and marched around in a small circle. "Hey, hey! LBJ! How many kids you gonna kill today!?" She chanted earning a laugh from Bill. She came back to sit with him. "Stupid bastard was in town today, can you believe it?" She shook her head.
"It's all bullshit, right," he said before drinking the last of his beer.
"But isn't it though? Surprised you were at the march you don't really strike me as the type."
"Why not?"
"Well," she lightly shrugged, "you're a bit clean cut."
"Callin' me a square?" He lightly laughed.
"No, I swear. I don't mean it like that," she said taking it back, not wanting to offend this amazing man she just met. "It's just you've got your hair short and nice, clean face, black turtleneck," she curled her finger around the collar, popping it playfully. "It looks great on you, though."
"I'll take that as a compliment. And to be fair, that was my first protest. When did you start doing it?"
"Since last year. My brother took me to a small protest when the feds killed Fred Hampton. It turned into this massive thing. He ended up getting arrest and I had to wait outside the jail until he got out. It was a big mess. But I haven't stopped yet. Especially now since my brother's in Vietnam," she frowned.
"Sorry. I kinda know the feeling? My two best friends growing up are leaving in a few days," he said sharing her pain. "Have you been arrested?" He figured changing the subject was best.
"Not yet," she smirked devilishly. He felt his heart flutter from it. Could one fall this hard in love, this fast? He thought. Her attention was caught by the next song playing over the radio. "Oh, I love this song! Have you heard it?"
"Smokey Robinson?"
"Yes!"
Of course, he knew the song, Ooh Baby Baby, but in her tipsy state, it must have felt like she was the only one that knew about it at that moment. She began to sing it to herself as she swayed in her seat. Bill stood up and held his hand out, taking full advantage of the moment.
"Let's dance." He said pulling her to her feet and then wrapped a hand around her waist holding her close as he led. She rested her head on his chest and he could faintly hear her still singing along. He spun her, making her giggle in glee. He didn't know what came over him. Was it the song?  The alcohol? Fate? Or the beautiful girl he saw by chance now in his arms? Maybe all of it? He couldn't help himself, he leaned down to meet her lips and kissed her. And he knew right then he never wanted to be anywhere without her. ~~~
Bill's thoughts were interrupted when he heard the truck stuttering bringing him back to the present. He pumped the gas pedal just so he could keep it chugging long enough before having to pull off on the shoulder of the road.
"Shit!" He slammed the dashboard with his hand.
His wife jolted up from the noise looking around confused. "Is it the fuzz?" She said alarmed.
"No fuzz..." he huffed, "the fuckin' truck again," he got out slamming the door angrily.
Not wanting to be in his way and nag him with questions she stayed in the car for a while as he fiddled with the truck engine again. She had been nauseous since she abruptly woke. Craning her head out the window for air she saw a little drug store up the road in walking distance.
"I'll get it to work again. We won't be late," Bill said to her as she came around the truck.
"I was just going to tell you I'm getting a pop," she pointed down the road.
Bill glanced behind him. "Oh. Be careful. Stay on the grass," he said concentrating the engine again.
"Need anything?"
"Nah. Just need to focus," he said unscrewing something. "Frankie, baby," he stopped what he was doing realizing he was being a bit rude by ignoring her and kissed her before she went on her way. "And stay on the grass!" He reminded her again. "People drive like fucking assholes around here," he muttered, essentially to only himself as he poked around at different hoses.
Once in the drug store, she immediately went to the bathroom to vomit what little she had in her stomach. She cleaned herself up, grabbed a can of ice-cold 7Up, laid 15 cents on the counter and walked out drinking it wanting to get out from the clerks' suspicious gaze. Must have looked really weird when she ran inside. She couldn't wait until the morning sickness spells were over. She lingered by the storefront sipping her pop to her settle her stomach. She looked down the road where Bill was in perfect sight, diligently working on the truck. Suddenly, she began feeling bad for not tell him that she was pregnant yet. She was going to, it'll get harder to conceal later, but she knew as soon as she told him there wouldn't be any more traveling, no more protests. It's what they loved to do. To be vagabonds, them against the world, fighting for the greater good. And she hoped, god she dearly hoped, the world will be good enough for their baby and that their efforts weren't in vain.
On her walk back to the truck, Bill was in the driver's seat about to test his efforts. "Maybe we can thumb it? Someone's gotta be headed that way?" She suggested.
"Hold on," he turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life again. "Yes, baby!" He patted the dashboard. "Quick, get the hood down," he told his wife, "we're not too far!"
His wife happily hopped in the truck ready to fight the good fight with the people. She reached to turn volume dial on the radio to listen to Time of the Season by The Zombies but it was quickly interrupted by a news bulletin.
"Sorry to interrupt this radio broadcast but now a message from President Richard Nixon."
"Ugh," she rolled her eyes, "just turn it down." She was about to turn the dial herself but Bill grabbed her hand, stopping her from doing so.
"Shh, wait," he said.
"We today," Nixon spoke, "January 23, 1973, have concluded in agreement to end the war and bring peace with honor in Vietnam."
"What!?" She nearly yelled.
"It's over!? It's over babe!" Bill cheered, kissing the back of her hand. "Straight out of that rat bastards mouth!" He laughed.
She leaned back into her seat, in shock, and in sadness. Thinking of her brother, how he never made it to this day. Bill sensed where her thoughts were because he too began to think of Joe and Charlie. Charlie didn't make it either and Joe came back literally half a man losing both his legs. He laced his fingers in hers.
"I know love. But Jimmy and Charlie, you know they're cheering where ever they're at now. We did it, it worked."
She nodded. "Yeah..." she said coming out of her funk. "All the times we marched in the heat, in the rain, the blistered feet, bailing me out of jail. We did it. We're not going to a protest anymore we're going to a party."
"Exactly! We won this fight and now we keep going on for civil rights as we have been. Cause if it works, equality's gonna work!" Bill said excitedly feeling hopeful for the future. His wife listened to him preaching on, feeling proud and adoring him. It was such a contrast to the man she first met, he was a bit square then. But that clean cut square, now with his pushed back, messy shag hair and mustache, was going to be the father of her baby.
Sure enough, they arrived to a massive block party after hearing the good news. People cheered and danced in the streets of Berkeley. She relished in it, savoring it before she had to tell Bill she was pregnant. He wanted to keep going to protests to fight and God knew she wanted to, too. Maybe she could convince him to do sit-ins? Or maybe they could bring water coolers and sit in the truck bed, a new baby on her lap, passing out water to marchers? Something. She didn't want to leave it all behind.
They went off to the side of the celebration sitting along the curb having their lunch. They ended up sharing it with others, they didn't mind at all. They stayed late speaking with other activist and sharing the victory and left exhausted from the festivities at Berkeley. On the way home, she slept she couldn't help it, it seemed as if she was always tired lately. Before leaving a guy they met at Berkeley offered to take a look at their truck and like a godsend had an extra part for their issues. Bill drove confident they were making a straight shot home this time.
She woke up near home. Immediately, her mind went back to the baby. She had to tell him, her conscience was nagging her to. "Bill..." she began.
"You can sleep," he rubbed her arm, "I'll carry you in. You've been sleepy lately, huh?"
"Yeah..."
Bill turned the corner pulling up to their little humble one-bedroom rental. "Don't get out, yet. I'll open your door," he said to her.
"Wait." She said causing him to pause. He didn't like the weariness in her voice.
"Is everything alright?"
"Yeah."
"Then what is it?"
"I just want to tell you that, I love you," she chickened out at the last second.
Bill lightly chuckled. "Well, I love you too baby... Is that all?" He sensed it wasn't with how she was fidgeting with her hands. If her hair wasn't tied up she'd be running her fingers through the ends of it, it was her usual nervous tick.
Her conscious was yelling at her at this point and having backed herself into a corner now she blurted it out. "I'm pregnant." Bill sat taken aback. "I'm having a baby," she said now feeling better know that he knew. A weight lifted.
"Really? A baby?" He sighed it out so sweetly. "A baby," tears brewed but he blinked them away.
"You're not upset?" She bit her lip.
"No never. I'm the happiest man in the world right now. Why would you think that?"
"Because we won't be traveling anymore and marching..."
"It'll only be for a little while. And we can stay here until the baby comes or we'll leave if that's what you want? Or we can find something better, we have time."
She nodded, tears falling from her eyes, feeling grateful for the man she fell in love with. A man who from the very beginning jumped in to change the world with her without an ounce of hesitation. A man she was finally going to have a child with.
"Baby, don't cry," he held onto her as she cried on his chest. "It's us against the world. We're gonna make it work, okay? I promise. You make me so incredibly happy, whatever we end up doing, we're free. With you I'm free."
"I love you," she was able to choke out.
Bill laughed. He was going to be a dad. His heart couldn't have been fuller. "Today, was a good day, right? Despite the truck," he said trying to cheer her up. "Baby, you're having a baby!" He finally got a laugh from her. "And they'll come to rallies with us. On top of my shoulders with a little 'fuck Nixon' sign in their little hands, huh?" He kissed her. "We gotta make that happen."
FIN
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journalxxx · 7 years
Text
An Epilogue of Sorts
Inspired by this idea I had some time ago.
After finishing his shower, Stan went back to the bedroom to find Ford napping on the bottom bunk, hands resting on his stomach and one leg dangling over the side of the bed. He was still wearing the mask, as he had promised he would - with the obnoxious tone and expression of a patient parent indulging a petulant child - after Stan had threatened to spray the whole air tank on his face and flash-freeze his sideburns. Stan walked up to the bed as he finished drying his hair, his vague, remaining worries duly subdued by the sight of a thin veil of condensation rhytmically clouding and vanishing from the inner side of the mouthpiece. Nevertheless, he bent down to squeeze his brother's shoulder. Ford's eyes opened almost immediately.
"...Mh?" "Hey. Bathroom's free. You good?" "...Yes, yes. I was just resting for a moment." He yawned, took off the mouthpiece and reached out to turn off the air nozzle, countering Stan's annoyed glance with a challenging glare of his own. Stan didn't comment on it, gauging that that was as much as he could hope to get away with. "You sure?" "Yes. Just a mild headache. It's to be expected, I'll be as good as new by tomorrow morning." Stan grumbled some semblance of agreement. His spine gave a painful twinge and he straightened himself up, massaging his lower back. There would be hell to pay the following day for all that emergency weight-lifting, he could already tell. He sat down on the bed tiredly, waving away Ford's offer to get up and leave the bed free for its rightful owner. He didn't mind the appropriation at all; in fact, in any other occasion, the sight of his brother casually borrowing his sleeping space would have sparked some very questionable trains of thoughts in his head. That entire day had entailed a level of physical closeness that he would have otherwise found very suggestive, but near-death experiences had their way of stripping all the fun from the little joys life bestowed. Stan kept brushing the towel on his head in silence, the unfortunate accidents of the day playing in the back of his head. Ford appeared to be lost in a similar contemplation as he stared intently at the bunk above. It was him who broke the silence, a few minutes later. "Did you run into any forks while you were carrying me out?" "No, there was only one path to follow. At least there was no risk of getting lost." "No strange holes or secondary routes that you couldn't reach?" "I don't think so." Ford hummed pensively. "Curious. We didn't see any in the first half of the cavern either. Creatures like the one that attacked us usually hunt rather close to their nest, but we didn't run into it while exploring, nor did we notice any alcoves that could lead to a hidden colony in the cave." "And how isn't that very good news?" "There may be one outside. We'll have to scout the outer area surrounding the cave to make sure we eradicate all of them. Or I may be wrong, and there may be no colony at all. I'm not sure, I couldn't get a good look at the creature during all that ruckus." Stan groaned, glaring at Ford in annoyance. "Dammit, we just barely got out of that hellhole, and you're already planning another trip?" "Well, of course. We came here to look for anomalies, and that's exactly what we found. There wouldn't be any point in leaving before getting to the bottom of it." "Well, not dying, for one. That's always a good starting point." Ford rolled his eyes. "Of course, we're not going to rush in there again without due preparation. Judging by the locals' tales, I was expecting some sort of magic curse against curious tomb raiders. The kind of threat we found involves a much more physical brand of aggression. We'll need to reconsider our weaponry and set up the biological scanner-" "Yeah, yeah, but honestly this looks a bit too big for the two of us. If you are right and there is a nest, there might be hundreds of those face-huggers, and I don't feel like playing pest control with a swarm of flesh-eating aliens." "I don't think their number should be too exaggerated. The local fauna seems to be numerous and varied, while a large amount of such vicious predators would have practically exterminated it in a very short time." "...Right." Stan sighed, chiding himself for even trying to oppose his brother with logical reasoning. He never came out on top on that field. "How about we just... go back to the village and report instead? We tell them there's a scary carnivorous monster in the cave and that they should stay very, very far from it, which they already kind of do, and that's it." "That may make them more cautious, but it wouldn't solve the problem. Need I remind you that that thing or its relatives have already claimed victims in the past? And that most of those victims- " Ford's tone raised slightly, cutting off Stan as he opened his mouth to reply, "were curious kids who knew perfectly of the legends and decided to explore it anyway out of sheer curiosity? That sounds familiar to you too, I bet." Stan's mouth snapped closed and he shoot an irritated glance at his brother, who always seemed to know exactly which heartstrings to pull. He shook his head, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Fine! Fine, we're dealing with the man-eating octopus. But we need to set some serious ground rules first." Ford raised an eyebrow, becoming the very embodiment of skeptical surprise. "Ground rules?" "Yeah. First and foremost-" Stan continued testily, pointing a warning finger at his brother, "no more self-sacrificing bullshit talk. For any reason. Seriously Ford, what the hell was that about? Even people in horror movies know that splitting up in dangerous situations is an incredibly stupid idea." Ford frowned and crossed his arms, somehow managing to look down on his brother even while lying on the bed. "That depends entirely on the circumstances. If two people are stuck in a dire situation with no escape route, then yes, teaming up grants the highest chance of survival. But if one of them is somewhat incapacitated, and the other has the chance to reach out for help, then-" "Are you fucking nuts? What did you want me to do, dump your unconscious ass in a corner and stroll out while the octopus was busy munching your face?" "Of course not, you knucklehead!" Ford's tone and expression was getting increasingly aggravated, but Stan couldn't really bring himself to care about that, not with the kind of idiocies his brother was suggesting. "I mean that I should have stopped earlier, when I first suggested it! If you hadn't been so goddamn insistent on dragging me along-" "Oh right, sorry! You had everything under control, didn't you? No matter if you couldn't string two sentences together without gasping for air, totally a minor and insignificant inconvenience that one-" "In fact yes, it was, because I wouldn't have needed to do anything but remaining very still and very quiet, measuring my breaths and blasting whatever tried to approach me - all things that I'm very proficient in, in case you haven't noticed. But no, you just had to waste both our time, air, and energy by forcing me to march onwards! If the tunnel had been longer-" "If the tunnel had been longer- "Stan burst out loudly, positively seething, "I would have run out of air, collapsed and been eaten alongside you by the stupid alien. And you know what? I find that possibility infinitely preferable than making my way out, coming back with your precious help, and finding where I left you only a goddamn pair of glasses, or a bloody piece of cloth, or fucking nothing whatsoever. Because I've already lost track of you twice by mistake, and it took me no less than a goddamn decade to have a single shot at finding you again after each time, and I have the strong suspicion that the next time it happens, it will be the last. So please excuse me if I try to stave off the possibility for as long as I can!" Ford blinked up at him in shock, and it was only after silence fell that Stan realized that his tone had grown way past the conversational level. He huffed in frustration, throwing the towel on his head again, more to block Ford out of his visual field than to do anything else. He felt his brother shift on the bed, moving to sit up beside him on its edge. When Ford spoke again, his tone held none of the anger of their previous argument. "In all honesty, you're the last person who should be telling anyone off about self-sacrifice, don't you think?" It took Stan a frankly embarassing amount of time to catch onto the meaning of his brother's words. He shook his head grimly. "That was different. He would have never kept his word if you had given him what he wanted, and everyone was going on about apocalypses, end of the world, and all that magic balderdash... That was really desperate." "True." Ford's gaze dropped to the floor as he absently rubbed his palm on his knee. "Is that where you draw the line? Is immolation only justified in exchange for the safety of the universe?" Stan snorted, barely managing to avoid bursting out laughing in his brother's face. "I don't give a fuck about the universe, Ford." "...No, I suppose you wouldn't. You did spend thirty years trying to figure out how to tear it apart, and almost succedeed, after all." Stan rolled his eyes. "You just have to keep bringing that up, do you?" Ford chuckled, raising his hand apologetically. "I'm just trying to say that there are some blatant double-standards in your moral code, you'll surely agree." "First off, I'm simply offended by the fact that you think I have one. Second, what's so difficult to understand? I just don't like problems in my family." He shrugged, genuinely amused by Ford's surprised expression. "You fell into a wormhole, so I had to bring you back, the rest of the universe be damned. And the triangle was going to wreck your head, and- and he was after the kids. A right hook to the eye was the least he should have expected." Ford frowned slightly, and he seemed to pick his next words with an uncharacteristic slowness. "I thought I didn't fit in that particular group at that point in time. You said so yourself." "And you believed it?" Stan sighed, looking at Ford in exasperation. "God, now I see how you got in such deep shit with that demon. You shouldn't believe everything sketchy conmen whisper in your ear, you know." "I'm pretty sure you didn't whisper anything. You barked it in my face in the middle of the hallway. Loudly. Jabbing me with your finger." "And here I thought you'd appreciate the figure of speech." The corners of Ford's mouth turned upwards for a brief moment, then they fell back to a somewhat somber expression. He kept staring at the floor, his tone dropping lower still as he spoke again. "...I did mean it though. When I told you to pack your stuff and leave. Not that it didn't start weighing on my mind within the next two days, but... mostly I regretted the tone of our reunion, and my rather aggressive behavior. Not my position, nor the correctness of my judgement." "...Look, if this is some convoluted way to make me bail out on you the next time something tries to eat you, I guess you may be onto something, but-" Ford shook his head and continued, barely acknowledging Stan's interruption. "As to what happened in the Fearamid... It was our only chance to get an advantage on him. The stakes were too high not to give it a shot. It just... made perfect sense to try, so I took your idea in stride as promptly as I would have if my own life had been on the line. I... must say though... that if I had imagined how sour such a victory would have felt, I wouldn't have been so resolute." Stan didn't quite know what to make of that bizarre set of declarations, which seemed to warrant a mixed bag of comforting and punching. He reached some sort of compromise with an awkward pat on his brother's forearm, but that didn't stop that unexpected burst of sincerity. "I thought it was the right move. I still do. The safety of the kids, the destruction of a vicious and powerful entity, the very existence of an entire universe... This is worth more than any single person's life, for sure. Although, as of now, I wouldn't even consider trading yours for anything less. So... I suppose I can see your point in this whole thing." Stan blinked, his confusion turning in mild disbelief. The whole point of that long-winded speech, which included a few heartfelt confessions and a couple of backhanded appreciations, was a simple agreement. Apparently Ford hadn't lost his knack for ill-timed and unfortunate wording. Yet, Ford's words held a kind of honest affection than Stan had only dreamt of hearing for longer than he could remember, and it was more than enough to make him smile in return. "...Good. We have a deal then." "Yes. And it goes both ways, obviously." "I can work with that." They both smiled, and Stan felt the tension of the earlier argument finally vanishing. Only to be replaced by a different kind of tension, one that was both new and familiar. It had been happening for quite some time, without warning, whenever they happened to look at each for few seconds too long, or to stand a bit too close in the cramped spaces of the ship, or for no discernible reason at all. Stan had long since acknowledged the nature of that tension, and whether Ford had recognised it or not, there was doubt on the fact that he was aware of it too, to some degree. "Well, I really need a shower too. Do you mind fixing dinner in the meantime?" Like almost every time, Ford gracefully shattered the atmosphere and stood up almost immediately, clearing his throat and heading to the opposite side of the room to rummage in his drawers. Like almost everytime, Stan didn't have the balls not to roll with it. "Sure. I'll try frying that weird eel the people at the village love so much." "Sounds good." Ford piled a few clean clothes on one arm and strode to the door, but he stopped and hesitated on the threshold. He turned to look at his brother for a moment, his tone suddenly softer and more throughtful. "Thank you." Stan smiled. That, at least, had no awkward nuances or hidden meanings that he couldn't see upfront. "Any time, Sixer."
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askthestans · 1 year
Note
Hello Pines brothers. I come to you about an old question: about being a father and guardian. Stanley, know that you would be a wonderful father and a wonderful parent. Of course, you are not perfect in many ways, but you know the basic things about forgetting about someone: feeding, washing, proper sleep and safety. Unlike your brother, who can't even take care of himself, let alone anyone else. Stanley, have you ever considered adopting a newborn baby in the past?
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Stanley: Well, Lu (can I call ya that for short?), you're right. I may not be a dad, but I'm somethin' even better: a Grunkle. See, people think parents are the most important people in a kid's life. And they are, don't get me wrong! But a Grunkle (or Graunty, for that matter) is so important, too. We're like backup parents or grandparents, minus dumb rules like goin' to bed at a reasonable time or limits on sugar intake, with added fun and law-breaking!
And you're 100% right: Ford can't take care of himself. Why do ya think I know about parenting so well? I had to look after this nerdy runt for years of my life! When we were kids, guess who had to protect ‘im from bullies and brush the sand outta his hair? Me. When we were teens, who had to make sure his late night science fair project candy stash was stocked and that he got enough sleep? This guy, that's who.
Never mind the thirty years I spent gettin' him back from sci-fi sideburn land. Oh, he whined about *raises voice an octave* "openin' that portal was too dangerous, Stan!" and "ya almost tore apart the fabric of reality!", but without me, Ford'd still be sleepin' in some slimy alien's armpit and chewin' on chicken-flavored tentacle strips for dinner.
If I thought workin' on fixin' the portal was hard, I was not prepared for takin' care of this guy after he got back. Oof, I'd take the task of carin' for Little Dork Ford or readin' theoretical physics textbooks over...
*He gestures over at Ford, who's working at the desk in his lab.* Ugh, whatever this wrinkly, musty, grumpy old creature is. It's Little Dork Ford, but now it sheds everywhere, has an ego, and it gets into even more trouble somehow.
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Stanford: *Is currently busy at his desk, scribbling away at some experiment notes.* You do know that I can hear you insulting me, Stan?
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Stanley: See? Ego taller than the Empire State Building, all to cover up insecurity as deep as... hey, Ford? What’s the world’s deepest ocean trench you told me those underwater aliens or whatever hide in?
Stanford: The Mariana Trench.
Stanley: Yeah, that place! Thanks, Sixer-
Stanford: *Reaches into sliding shelf behind his desk, pulls out The Norton Anthology of Shakespeare, Third Edition. He turns around without a word, narrows his eyes, and holds it up so Stan can see what it is. There are little post-it markers sticking up in neon colors from the pages, each marked similarly to “Quotes to Share with Stan #33″ His expression turns into a wicked, depraved smile.*
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Stanley: *Backs away and starts sweating.* ANYWAYS, let’s take this conversation upstairs! AS FAR AWAY FROM FORD AS POSSIBLE!
*Stan drops a smoke bomb, rips the laptop they use to answer AsktheStans questions off its charger, and runs into the elevator of Ford’s lab.*
*The elevator, being old and rickety as it is, takes a long time to close the doors and start lifting. Stan holds the laptop with one hand and furiously, desperately smashes the up arrow button with the other, swearing profusely at how slow it is.*
*Meanwhile, a figure with six fingers looms in the dissipating smoke just outside the doors, outlined in the occasional neon blue flash of machinery he walks past, pacing closer, a book opened in his hands like a preacher about to read scripture at a demon.*
Stanley: Not again! *Screams and cowers as Ford nears and the doors are still closing, slowly, slowly...*
Stanford: “Thou ominous and fearful owl of death, Our nation’s terror and their bloody-”
*The doors close just before Ford can reach them.*
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Stanley: *Lets out a sigh of relief and wipes his brow.* Whew! That was close. Hopefully he’ll calm down before this old elevator gets back down and up again. Heh, I have a good hidin’ spot just in case, though. I made sure to find one after last week’s event where I interrupted his dumb ‘married to science’ joke.
*Stan keeps talking as the elevator creaks upwards.* Sorry, your question... uh... adoptin’ a newborn baby. Hm...
Come to think of it, I actually did try to adopt a newborn once! It was a few years after I got established here at the Shack, had some extra money, was feelin’ a little lonely, wanted someone to teach all my good moral lessons and tell stories of the good ol’ heist days to...
So I went to the nearest adoption agency and asked about it. I even had a name picked out: Stanford Sherman Pines! I thought, just wait ‘til I get Ford back, and he sees this cute kiddo that’s named after him. Heh, just picture his face-
*The elevator doors open to the stairwell just down from the Gift Shop. Ford is waiting just outside. The book is still open in his hands. His eyes are unblinking.*
Stanford: “The period of thy tyranny approacheth. On us thou canst not enter but by death-”
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Stanley: *Rips Ford’s glasses off, digs into his own pocket, and throws awfully convenient salt into Ford’s eyes. Stan politely tucks the glasses back into Ford’s coat pocket with a little tap, then slams the down arrow elevator button this time.*
*By the time Ford gets back up from hunching over in pain, the doors close in his face again. Stan starts talking again.*
L-long story short, they saw my criminal history, and said no. I told ‘em they were makin’ a mistake! I, Stanley - er, well, I was pretendin’ to be Stanford at the time - Pines, would make a great dad! I mean, look at how well I took care of Dips and Mabes over last summer! They only went to jail once. And I even made ‘em Stancakes a few times!
But oh well. A few years later, Soos showed up at my door and got hired. I mean, he’s not my son, just my favorite employee, but he’s as close to a kid as I could ask for. With him, the little Pines twins, and Ford, I got all the kids I need! Seriously, ya might think I’m a big kid myself, and you’re right, but compared to those four, I feel like a mother hen.
Just doin’ the laundry around here is like a constant cycle of scrubbin’ food stains and science experiment chemicals. And who do you think all these dorks come to when they need a shoulder to cry on?
*The elevator door opens up to Ford’s lab again.*
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*Stan winces, then when nothing happens, he peers out. Ford is nowhere to be seen. Stan lets out another sigh of relief, then starts walking out of the elevator. The laptop is still in his hands, the camera showing the empty elevator behind him.*
Looks like Ford finally gave up! Heh, salt! Didn’t think that would work, but it just goes to show ya, when in doubt, and when your twin brother who spent thirty years survivin’ in a hellish slew of dimensions comes after you for tellin’ the truth about his awful insecurity issues...
*Unbeknownst to Stan, behind him on the camera, a figure pops down from the service access hatch in the elevator roof, landing as silently as a ninja, rising from the still dissipating smoke as a shadow, the only light on the figure being glasses agleam with blue glow.*
Salt will do the trick! Yep, that’s all it took. I’m sure he’ll get me back for it later, but ya never know! Think he’ll forgive me? Hah! Of course he’ll forgive me! He’s my twin brother. Deep down he loves me, ya know?
*The figure comes up right behind Stan into the light, quiet as a ghost. It’s Ford, eyes puffy and red, tears streaming down his face, salt glistening in his eyelashes, but he’s still expressionless and unblinking.*
*Ford’’s pain is indeed great, but the stinging salt of betrayal can always be soothed by the sweet taste of revenge.*
Stanley: Ah! I’m sure he’ll forgive me. And if the salt doesn’t work and he’s still mad, I can always fall back on old reliable, right? *Stan makes a motion, as if kneeing someone in the crotch.* I did that once before, and he deserved every moment of-
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Stanford: Care to let me finish?
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*The laptop’s camera turns into a blur of machines and shadows and the sound of screaming. The laptop is set back down on the table and left streaming. Ford walks past slowly, book raised, reciting line after line of Shakespeare, screen glitching until all movement stops.*
*An hour passes. Eventually, Ford comes back and sees the laptop is still on. He leans down to speak, smiling innocently.*
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Stanford: Oh! I forgot about the laptop. Apologies, internet stranger! My brother and I just had a casual argument, is all. Don’t worry, I didn’t kill him. He’ll be fine.
*A scream erupts from somewhere further back in Ford’s lab. Ford turns around, eyebrows furrowed in irritation.*
Stanley, if you wanted to avoid getting locked in a room with a barghest, you should have thought about that before you sassed me and threw salt into my eyes!
*Chuckles and speaks to the camera with his mouth behind his hand.* Actually, the barghest is a pretty friendly creature. Demonic looking thing, but give it a nice belly rub or a bone, and it’ll be wagging its tail in no time. But Stan doesn’t need to know that.
Now, if he’d interrupted my marriage to science speech again, well... let’s just say I would have locked him in a pitch black room with a far worse creature.
*Shrugs.*
I’ll just leave this on for you all to listen to the sweet symphony of justice. Also because I need someone to bounce some ideas off of. What do you say? Want to help Dr. Pines - world-renowned supernatural expert - plan a new DD&MD campaign?
*Another scream. Demonic howling and the sound of rattling chains ensue.*
*Ford laughs, brings the laptop with him, then sits back at his desk, humming Dead or Alive’s ‘You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)’ as he scribbles away, occasionally asking the viewer their opinions on what monsters to use in said campaign.*
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