A/N: This all started because of a tumblr post. I came up with the extra theory about the copy machine and then got inspired to write this. Enjoy the angst!
He finally completed his work on the copier after weeks and lots of duck tape. Stanley Pines was interested in just what this do-hickey invention of his brother's could actually do. The journal he had kept and used since that day everything went horribly wrong only mentioned that it could copy real life objects and that they could be destroyed with any type of liquid. The other thing it stated that his brother would attempt an actual copy of himself the next day. Weather it actually worked or not was never written down. Stanford only wrote the machine was destroyed in an accident and that was that. So Stan was going to try it himself. He figured since they were twins, the clone would come out as Ford if he focused on him hard enough. He knew it wouldn't really be Ford, but even a clone at this point would be enough to help him through these hard times. He was ready to give up on the portal. Nothing he did to it worked. Plus, he only had one of the journals anyway. He needed the others to complete the device. Maybe with Ford's clone, he would know how to help him to save the original. And maybe how to make amends with him as well for everything he ever did to Poindexter.
Stan hit the side of the copier as he finished the final fixes to it, waiting with bated breath as the machine made a few beeps and then came to life with a quiet hum. He looked over at the scanner now, wondering how he was going to fit himself upon it. If he tried laying on it, the scan would leave out his legs and his brother would be legless.
Now he was really starting to regret letting himself grow a beer belly. Though that didn't stop him from grabbing said beer can on the table beside him and taking a swing from it. He placed it back down, only half empty now, thinking about how to go about this. He wasn't a thinker like Sixer at all. He was lucky to get by with his lies and tricks by going on instinct alone. Wait… Maybe that's what Stan had to do here. Go by instinct. Feel for that twin sense he used to get and sometimes still does at night and see if that can create the Ford clone. It should work right?
With that in his head, Stan walked over to the copy machine and lifted up the lid of the scanner. He heaved his body on it, laying down, and then tucking in his legs on a whim as he quickly pressed the copy button. He could feel and hear the copier come to life under him, so he quickly focused on memories of Ford and the connection they shared. Soon the scanner pinged that it was completed and Stan hurried to get off and see the results of his labors.
The paper shot out of the machine, landing on the floor in front of him. Stan held his breath as the paper flopped about, the clone working itself out of the page until it became more solid. It looked just like him, but he expected that. He didn't have any of Sixer's clothes, most of it who knows where in this confusing house. He never found where his brother kept many of his personal things here. Stan had always suspected Ford had hidden rooms or hidey holes he had yet to come upon.
Finally the clone left the page, looking up at Stan with barely any emotion on it's face. Both of them stared each other down, unsure what either of them were suppose to do next. One was filled with hope, one was filled with the knowledge that what the other wanted will never come to be. Each was at a standstill, knowing the next move would reveal everything. Stan decided to move first, as he stepped closer to the clone, the hope still in his eyes. The clone's eyes only turned downtrodden, revealing that the plan didn't work. the clone wasn't Ford, but just another copy of Stan.
"I'm sorry it didn't work out for us," it said, "I know you wanted him, but it looks like it failed." The clone stepped closer to Stan and gently patted the original's back. Stan couldn't help but look sadden that his plan didn't work, but there was always another try right? He couldn't give up. Stanley Pines wasn't one to give up. The only reason he was close to giving up on the portal was because of lack of knowledge and unable to find the other journals. He could just make another copy and see if that one was Ford.
"That's fine. I didn't expect it to work the first time anyway. Don't think I ever saw one of Poindexter's do-hickeys work on their first try," Stan replied, as if almost in thought. The clone looked at his original, he thought everything he thought, but somehow he thought one thing different. He knew deep down that no matter how many times they tried that the copier would never work the way they wanted it to. It would be pointless, and his original didn't even want him around. He was a mistake, a failure, just like his original always was, but even worse. He wasn't even suppose to exist. Clone Stan couldn't bear to see his original self go though the pain he would try to put himself through, he knew what he had to do.
"Just stop it Stan," he said in a firm tone, it sounded almost like his father, who had been in his grave for the past few years now. Stan froze at his copy at the sound, looking at his copy.
"What do you mean?" he asked him in confusion. He had an idea what his clone was getting at, but he didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to hear the truth, especially from another him. It would just make it final. That there was no way for him to get his brother back at least temporary for now. He didn't want to give up. Just once, he wanted to succeed in something good.
"You know what I mean," Clone Stan stated slowly, glancing around the room till he saw what he was looking for, a bat that sat leaning against the wall that his original used to beat the machine when he was frustrated. It was a miracle he got it to work at all. He wrapped his fingers around the handle, Original Stan noticing too late what he was doing, and slammed it down on the copier.
CRUNCH SMASH BANG
Stan couldn't believe his eyes at first at what his clone was doing. He was destroying the copy machine! He saw the bat too late in his clone's hand and now he could see the dents and cracks appearing on the side of the frame. He rushed over to try and stopped him from doing any more damage to it. He had to stop him. It might be the only chance he had to at least some way to pretend to have Sixer back. He grabbed at his clone's arm that held the bat, but the clone was able to knock him back from the momentum as he was already in mid-swing when Stan came upon him. Stan landed on the floor as the clone gave one final whack at the machine, now it was too dented up to be able to copy a full grown person ever again. Stan just looked up at horror at his clone.
"Why?" he asked, feeling tears that rarely came to him slide down his cheeks. He didn't care if he was showing his feelings to his clone. There was no reason to keep up the tough act with himself. "Why did you have to ruin my chance to try and bring him back?!"
"Because you would never give up until you destroyed yourself Lee," his clone replied sadly as he let the bat fall to the floor and sat down next to him, "Think about it for a second. You know all this would do is create more copies of us, and all you would be able to see is another failure. All we would be able to see is a room full of failures. Isn't it better to stop it now before it gets to a point where it would get too unbearable?"
Stan just couldn't stand it. He just sat there, not bothering to look at anything, not even his clone. Clone Stan was right. All he would have been doing by continuing this mad quest was destroying himself even more than he was now. And if he created even more clones of himself, trying to create his brother from himself… Well… That wouldn't be good at all. The stress it would create would be even more than it is now.
"You're right," he muttered to his clone as he looked down at the floor, "You're fucking right. I'll never see him again. I'll never get the portal fix at this rate. This project was a bust. I should just give it up and just leave already!" Stan couldn't help it now, he just felt so lost without his brother. Knowing that it was his fault that he's gone, unable to return because his big brother was such an idiot and could never do anything right. It was then he felt a hand on his shoulder. Stan looked up to see his clone looking sadly at him.
"Don't give up just because you hit a dead end here or there. That doesn't sound like us. Did we give up as we got kicked out state after state? No we didn't. Did we give up when we went to prison and had to do all those unspeakable things? Hell no! We did it, some with shame for sure, but we still did it and survive," the clone spoke, his voice raising as he got Stan's attention focused on him, "Look, you know life is going to be full of failures. Our whole lives, well yours… You know this whole clone thing with me having all your memories is confusing, but whatever… Our whole lives have been one big failure. So you know what, it can only go up from here. Don't give up on the portal yet. I know you can do it. Something will come up that will lead you in the right direction, I just know it."
The clone reached up at the table beside them to grab something from it. Stan didn't see what it was, until the can was at his clone's lips. Yet again, he was too late to stop it. The clone took a long drink from the beer and dropped the can beside him as his body started to melt. He didn't know what to do. How are you suppose to stop paper from melting?
"Don't worry Stanley," his clone said, with a smile on his face as he melted, "This was meant to be. I'm not real after all. I think Sixer must have tried this with himself too when he built it. When he realized that it only copied himself, he must have dismantled it. Maybe I'll get to see my own Paper Poindexter where we go when we're gone." Stan was just horror struck by what was happening to Clone Stan. He understood what his clone was saying to him. It was why nothing else was written in the journal about the machine. Ford must have tried the same thing he was doing now. Somewhere, deep down, Ford must have missed his brother enough to create this machine to try and copy him. History was just repeating itself, just with the other twin this time. He gave his melting clone a smile, choosing to be strong for him.
"I'm sure you will. I promise I won't give up anymore," Stan said as his clone was almost a puddle now.
"Good. Bye Lee," Clone Stan said, and then he was no more than a pile a mush that soon became nothing. Stan just sat there, unable to move for the longest time as he stared where his clone disappeared. He wasn't sure how to feel or react. He basically just saw himself die. It was unnerving to be sure, but it was more than that. It was like, he brought the better part of himself to life to give him the pep-talk. He can't let his clone's sacrifice go to waste. Stan slowly got up off the ground, feeling his joints crack from the effort, and decided to go to bed for right now. He was too numb by today's events to do anything else but sleep, so that's right where he headed.
The next day found the back room's copy machine in worse condition than before. It looked that someone took their fists to the copier and just wailed on it, leaving more dents and marks upon it. It would be by pure luck if the machine would continue to work at all, not that the owner of the shack would care to find out. Right now, he was busy making plans for his great nephew's and niece's arrival within the next few weeks. He had just gotten the call that morning from their parents, asking to take them for the summer. Of course he would, not that he would actually let them know how happy he is about it. It would be just the thing he needs to get his mind off of other events. Though Stan had to admit, his clone was right about one thing, it could only go up from here.
Right?