Hey y'all, sorry for the mix-up, I clicked the wrong document when I added the chapter. WHOOPS! Here's the real chapter two, and in the unlikely event that this happens in the future, I'm also uploading this to my tumblr, orangeoctopi7.

Author's Notes: Luckily the inspiration for this story is really flowing. FYI, updates probably won't continue to be this regular.

Chapter 2: Wistful Thinking

It quickly became clear, and Ford had suspected this ever since he saw the 1 printed on the cover, that the book was just one volume in a set of journals. Considering one book contained one corner of the portal's schematic, it would make sense that there were two more. One for each corner. But this was a terrible leap in logic. There could be twenty, for all he knew. So, on top of trying to figure out how to use the portal, he had to find the other Journals.

Progress was slow. Getting past the security protocols took weeks, and even then, Ford had no idea how to work the machinery. There was no manual. It all appeared to be custom made. Had he built all this, all by himself?

The questions kept mounting up. Most of it was filled with things he already knew. Things he remembered studying, but not writing down. Which was ridiculous, of course he wrote it down. What kind of idiot didn't take field-notes? What little information there was on the portal was vague, mostly preliminary concepts and theories. Not helpful for figuring out how to work the machine.

As weeks turned to months, Ford began to lose hope. He wasn't making progress with the portal. He was no closer to finding the other journals. He would work for days on end without sleep, and he swore he could hear voices whispering when he was near the portal. Part of him hoped it was a sign that Stan was trying to contact him from the other side. Part of him was terrified that it was just another sign that he was losing his mind. Was that why pieces of his memory were missing? Had he gone completely mad?

When he did crash and fall asleep, his usual nightmares were now accompanied by the sounds of his brother screaming for help. Sometimes, he'd even see Stan, fighting the night terrors, his right shoulder bandaged for some reason. The dreams were consistent enough that Ford wondered if they were some kind of sign. Maybe the dreamscape was acting as a window into the other dimension.

Or maybe that was just wistful thinking.

The thought that Stanley was, more likely than not, dead, weighed heavily on Stanford's mind as the months wore on. Even if the portal hadn't killed him, what were the chances that he'd survived all this time on his own? If this were a police search, they'd have declared the victim 'presumed dead' by now. He began to feel hopeless.

It only got worse as Ford's grant money began to dry up. He couldn't apply for another grant. Six years and a hundred thousand dollars, yet he had nothing to show for it! Maybe if he'd had the other journals he could have pulled together some sort of article or announced some sort of find that would stir up investors, but as it was, the chances of bringing in more money through the scientific community seemed slim.

If his chances of success were so slim, why even try? Was he wasting his time? Should he move on? These were the questions that buzzed through Stanford's mind when he fell asleep in the basement, in the middle of trying to figure out what the readings on a particular machine meant.

This nightmare was different from the others. There were no terrifying visions of monsters he couldn't hope to fight, no images of burning cities, no screaming voices. Instead, he saw the basement, in grayscale, completely silent.

He'd seen this before.

In a quick flash of light, a yellow triangle appeared, his other features forming in a second. Single eye, black limbs, black hat and tie.

"HEEEEEY! LONG TIME NO SEE SIX-FINGERS!" Bill Cipher greeted in his usual jovial, distorted voice.

"Bill!" Ford exclaimed, jumping back in fear. He tried to get ahold of himself. He had to put on a brave face if he was going to confront Cipher. "H-How are you here? What do you want?"

"HAHA, DREAMSCAPE'S BEEN KINDA BORING LATELY. THOUGHT I'D DROP BY. YOU'RE ALWAYS GOOD FOR A LAUGH." Bill said casually, floating up to the nervous scientist and looking him over. "WOW, LOOK AT THIS. I SPEND ALL THAT TIME TRYING TO BREAK YOU, AND YOU END UP DOING A BETTER JOB OF IT YOURSELF. GUILT, TRAUMA, DEPRESSION, CONFUSION, DENIAL, I LOVE IT! I GUESS THAT'S WHAT STRANDING YOUR BROTHER IN ANOTHER DIMENSION WILL DO TO YA."

Ford stared at Bill. A realization dawned over him. "You! You did this!"

"HA, MUCH AS I'D LOVE TO TAKE CREDIT FOR YOUR MENTAL BREAKDOWN, THIS ONE'S ALL ON YOU AND MACKEREL."

"Then why can't I remember anything that happened?"

"WHOA BUDDY, YOU'RE OVERESTIMATING MY ABILITIES. I CAN MAKE PEOPLE QUESTION WHAT'S REAL AND WHAT'S NOT, BUT I CAN'T TAKE MEMORIES AWAY. NOT YET ANYWAY."

"If not you, then who? Why else would you be here? What do you want?" Ford demanded again.

"GEEZ, YOU SURE ASK A LOT MORE QUESTIONS THAN YOUR BROTHER."

"Stanley!? He… he's alive?"

"YEAH, GO FIGURE! TURNS OUT THAT WARD AGAINST EVIL BURNED ONTO HIM IS REALLY COMING IN HANDY. GUYS LIKE ME CAN'T TOUCH HIM. LOOKS LIKE YOU WERE ACTUALLY DOING HIM A FAVOR WHEN YOU SEARED HALF THE SKIN OFF HIS SHOULDER. WHO'D'VE THUNK?"

Stanford looked at the dream demon, confused. "What- I didn't-I'd never- what are you talking about? What burn?"

"BOY THAT MEMORY ERASER SURE IS THOROUGH."

"So you did have something to do with my missing memories!"

"NAH, THAT WAS GOOD OL' FIDDLESTICKS. SOME PAL, AM I RIGHT? BUT I GOTTA HAND IT TO HIM, THAT SECRET SOCIETY HE STARTED IS GREAT. TALK ABOUT BREWING CHAOS!"

"Secret society?" Ford was sure Bill was trying to psych him out. Fiddleford McGucket was a mild-mannered, if exceptionally talented, man. He'd moved to Gravity Falls to help Ford with his research, but left the project once he settled down and had a kid… right?

"You-you're lying! You've always lied to me!" He yelled, "I can't… I can't even be sure what you say about Stan is true." He added dejectedly.

"C'MON SIX-FINGERS, I KNOW WE'VE HAD OUR TROUBLES IN THE PAST, BUT I WANT WHAT YOU WANT HERE."

"I do not want what you want!" Stanford snapped.

"SURE YA DO! WE BOTH WANT THAT PORTAL BACK TO FULLY OPERATIONAL. FOR YOU IT'S YOUR ONLY CHANCE OF SAVING YOUR BROTHER. FOR ME IT'S MY TICKET TO OMNIPOTENCE!"

Ford froze. That couldn't be right. It couldn't be. He refused to believe that Bill was telling the truth, because if that was true, bringing back Stanley would mean playing right into Bill's hands. Again.

Stanford couldn't do that again.

"You're playing mind-games with me." He growled.

"SURE AM! BUT THE TRUTH IS JUST AS USEFUL AS LIES IN THAT DEPARTMENT. LOOK, IF YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME, CHECK IT OUT YOURSELF. YOU'RE THE WORLD'S FOREMOST EXPERT ON THE DREAMSCAPE, SEE IF YOU CAN FIND HIS DREAMS."

"I-I've only ever gone into the mind of someone I was only a few feet from. Stan and I aren't even on the same planet anymore…"

"WELL, YOU TWO ARE TWINS. TIME TO SEE IF THERE'S ANYTHING TO ALL THOSE OLD STORIES ABOUT TWIN TELEPATHY."

"Why would I ever take your advice?" Ford asked.

"CUZ YOU'RE DESPERATE! I KNOW YOU. NOW THAT YOU KNOW IT'S A POSSIBILITY YOU'LL DRIVE YOURSELF EVEN FURTHER OFF THE DEEP END IF YOU DON'T AT LEAST TRY."

Stanford clenched and unclenched his fists in frustration. He knew the demon was right and he hated it.

"AND ON THAT NOTE, I'LL TAKE MY LEAVE! GOOD LUCK WITH THE PORTAL BEWARE THE BLIND EYE DON'T BUY INTO THE DOTCOM BUBBLE BYYYYYYYE!"

Ford woke with a start. The digital clock on the desk said it was morning. He had his face pressed into the keyboard of what appeared to be a cross between a typewriter and a clothes washer. He ran his fingers through his hair, which was in serious need of a wash, and suppressed a sob. He couldn't do this. He couldn't do this anymore. Not if Bill was involved.

He looked at his reflection in the round monitor. With the months of neglecting self-care, Stanford now sported a mullet almost as bad as his brother's had been. His mouth set into a determined line.

"Oh who were you kidding, you knew Cipher was involved the whole time." He reprimanded himself. He got up to eat breakfast and take a shower, for the first time in too long. With what he was planning, he was going to need all the strength he could get.


Bill gave a sigh of relief. That was a risky move, tipping his hand to six-fingers like that. But the odds of him abandoning the portal were much higher if he lost hope than if he knew it was part of Bill's plan, but knew it wasn't a lost cause. Now it was time to play the waiting game. It wasn't a game Bill particularly enjoyed, but when you were an ageless dream demon, thirty years really wasn't that bad.

Author's Notes: I like showing that Ford is a careful thinker who usually has no trouble reasoning, but as soon as Bill shows up rationality goes out the window and he immediately starts jumping to conclusions and his denial really comes to the surface.