Chapter Two
Stan slept like the dead for the rest of that day while Ford and Dipper fangirled over their most recent travels. Mabel tried to linger but quickly grew bored of all their nerd-talk, opting instead to work on her latest sweater.
Stan finally woke up around nine that night, still looking like a zombie as he ambled into the kitchen, muttering under his breath. Ford frowned in his direction as he beelined for the coffee maker, dark bags framing his eyes. He had noticed his brother looking more tired than usual the last few days of their trip - but he wasn't usually this out of it. Dipper noticed it too but kept his mouth shut. Annoying his Grunkle when he was tired was about as good of an idea as looking into a gremloblin's eyes.
"You okay, Stanley?" Ford asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
"Mind your own business, Poindexter." Dipper smiled to see that his Grunkles hadn't changed in the slightest over the past school year. He could always trust them to stay constant - even when the world was ending.
Grunkle Stan suddenly collapsed to the ground, his coffee mug shattering as it hit the floor.
"Stanley!" Ford paled and ran to his brother's side, checking his pulse. He frowned and rolled his brother over. The smile vanished from Mabel's face as she ran to his head. Dipper watched anxiously. Stan was still breathing, but his breaths seemed labored. His skin was slick with sweat and paler than normal. He twitched, jerking his head from side to side. Dipper stood beside Ford, feeling his own hands start to sweat.
"W-what's wrong with him?" Dipper stuttered.
"I don't know. Help me get him to his chair." Together, they lifted Stan from the ground and set him down in his chair. His head continued to jerk from side to side, and he muttered under his breath.
"Stan! Stan wake up, snap out of it!" Ford yelled, waving his hand in front of Stan's face.
"JQLPRFPL!" Stan suddenly shook his head, slowly blinking up at everyone.
"Hey, what's everyone staring at?" he asked. "Where'd my coffee go?" Ford furrowed his brow.
"You just collapsed," Ford said. "And were just speaking nonsense. You don't remember any of that?" Stan frowned and shook his head, holding his hands up.
"Look guys - I'm fine. I must've just stood up too fast or something - oh!" He winced as he bowed his head, holding his hand up to his eye. As he brought his hand away, crimson drops stained his pale skin. He clenched his hand as he looked back up at the family, holding his eye half shut. Blood slowly dripped from his left eye, as if he was crying blood. Mabel held on to Dipper's shoulder, looking away. Dipper patted her absentmindedly. She had never done well with gore.
"Wha - why is my eye bleeding? Sixer, what did you put in my coffee?" Stan attempted to joke. Ford looked like he had seen a ghost.
"I'm calling 911."
"What? There's no way I'm letting you give your money to those quacks! I'm fine!"
"Stanley, your eye is bleeding. That is not fine."
"You're a doctor."
"Not that kind of doctor!" Ford snapped. Stan rolled his eyes. Or eye.
"You're not taking me to a doctor, Poindexter. It's just a little blood. I'll be fine." Ford looked like he was about to protest, but kept his mouth shut.
"Then you have to take it easy. No leaving the cabin." For a moment Stan looked like he was about to protest too, but suddenly seemed too tired to do so.
"Fine. I - I think I'm gonna hit the hay. Long day." He rose up from his chair and walked to his bedroom without so much as a stumble. The rest of the Pines stayed quiet after he disappeared.
"Uh, Grunkle Ford? Do you know what's going on?" Dipper asked. Ford pursed his lips.
"I suppose it's just an old man thing. We're not in our twenties anymore." Dipper narrowed his eyes. He saw straight through Ford's lie. "I suppose you two better be getting off to bed as well." Mabel took the hint and walked over to the stairs. Dipper however, crossed his arms and followed his Grunkle as he tried to slip down into the basement.
"I wasn't born yesterday," he said, sounding a bit harsher than he meant to. "What's really going on with him, Grunkle Ford?" Ford turned around to see his great nephew leaning against the stairs. He took a moment to observe just how much his nephew had changed over the past three years. Sure, he still didn't shower regularly and was still the more awkward twin, but he had also gotten much smarter. He was tackling his studies with the same gusto Ford had tackled his, the dark bags under his eyes illustrating just how little sleep he got. Ford chided himself to remind the boy to sleep more. This was supposed to be his vacation after all. Hypocrite. He was starting to grow taller than his twin. He was weedy and acne now marred his birthmark. He wasn't a kid anymore, as weird as it seemed to Ford. Dipper Pines was growing up. And I don't need to treat you like a child, he thought.
"Sorry Dipper. I didn't want to worry you or Mabel." Dipper still looked down at him expectantly. Ford scratched at the back of his head, a nervous habit he seemed to have picked up from Stanley. "I really don't know what's wrong with him. But I'm a little hesitant to take him to a normal doctor in case this is something . . ."
"Abnormal?" Dipper finished. Ford smiled and nodded.
"Yes. Abnormal."
"Anything I can do to help you figure out what it might be?" Ford shook his head.
"Not at the moment." You're not going to tell him about what happened the last time your left eye started bleeding randomly? His conscious mocked. Ford grit his teeth. That's impossible, he thought, refusing to even let his brain go there. Dipper doesn't need to know what because it's impossible. Believe me, I know the difference between the possible and impossible. We destroyed him. It can't be that.
"Okay Grunkle Ford. I'll leave you alone. Goodnight." Dipper headed back up the basement stairs. Ford relaxed in slight relief. He loved his family. But Dipper understood his need to have alone time. In spite of all his years exploring the multiverse - he still wasn't good at handling people. The only other person he had been able to get along with as well as his family was . . . Fiddleford.
The thought of his old lab partner still made Ford sick with grief. Fiddleford had easily accepted his apology and insisted everything was water under the bridge, but Ford still felt responsible for his friend's mental demise. Of course - Fiddleford had regained many of his memories and was living in the fanciest house this side of the west coast . . . but did that really made up for living in a dump for over thirty years? I need to go visit him soon, Ford decided as he descended into the elevator. We're still friends, even if I make it awkward.
. . .
The next morning, Stan woke up, securing his old Man of Mystery eyepatch around his eye, claiming the light made it hurt worse. It was no longer bleeding, but the bags under Stan's eyes continued to get darker.
Ford fussed over him, annoying Stanley even more.
"Just let me watch TV, Sixer!" he protested. "That's not gonna kill me!" He quickly fell asleep on his chair, snoring rather loudly. Dipper convinced Ford to teach him how to shoot the old crossbow hanging on the wall by the front door. Mabel helped Wendy man the cash register as Soos ran the tours. The rest of the day passed by fairly normally. Wendy and Soos left for the day as Dipper and Ford arrived back, test tubes filled with various substances spilling out of their pockets.
"Mabel - you'll never guess what we found when we were out shooting!" He held up several of the test tubes to her face. She leaned away from them, eyeing them suspiciously.
"Not sure I wanna know, Dip-Dop." Dipper rolled his eyes as Ford walked over to Stanley - still snoring in his chair.
"Has he been asleep like this all day?" he asked. Mabel nodded.
"Wendy and I had a contest to see how many crackers we could stack on his forehead without noticing." Ford noted they had failed to pick up the fallen crackers around the chair. He scratched his head.
"Huh. Okay. Well - I'm gonna put these tubes in the basement and take a shower. Dipper - you should do the same." Dipper rolled his eyes but nevertheless handed his tubes off to Ford, turning to go up to the attic.
Stan suddenly coughed in his sleep, making everyone jump in surprise. Mabel laughed nervously.
"Must be having a bad dream," she offered, but nevertheless feeling her stomach sink. Dipper gasped as red started oozing out of the bottom of the eyepatch.
"Grunkle Ford!" he squeaked. Ford paled and ran over to his twin, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him.
"Stanley! Stanley, can you hear me? Wake up!" Ford was cut off as Stanley's eyes suddenly shot open, glowing bright blue. He levitated several feet into the air, limbs splayed out as if he was being crucified.
"L-T-O-L-O-X-A," he chanted before collapsing back in on himself, crumbling to the floor like a house of cards. Ford crouched beside his twin, shaking him awake. Stanley groaned, shivering.
"Wha-what's going on, Poindexter?" Ford lifted his twin back into the chair, his worry lines growing deeper.
"Definitely not normal," he said.
"Why did he just spell 'axolotl'?" Dipper asked.
"That's not what I heard," Mabel said.
"He spelled it backwards," Dipper said.
"Stanley, do you know anything about axolotls?" Stanley blinked up at his twin as if he had grown another head.
"Axel-what-now?" Ford sighed.
"That's a no."
"Grunkle Ford, what's going on?" Dipper asked. Ford frowned.
"I think we might have just gotten a clue as to where to find the answer," he said. He ran to the kitchen and returned with a rag, which he gently pressed against Stan's bleeding eye.
"Stan stay here for a few moments. And don't fall asleep." Stan didn't have the energy to argue. He just nodded, his skin pale and sweatier than normal. Mabel and Dipper followed Ford down to the basement.
"Do you know what's wrong with him?" Mabel asked.
"No," Ford admitted. "I've never seen anything remotely close to it before - but I think I may know a way to figure that out. While I was traveling through the multiverse - I came across a creature known as the Oracle. She was the one who installed this metal plate in my head," he said, a metal clanging noise accompanying his head tap. "She knew I was out to destroy Bill and wanted to help me. She was very wise and kind . . . and her castle was decorated in all manner of axolotl imagery. I suspect that if anyone in the multiverse knows anything about this axolotl - it will be her."
"Um, Grunkle Ford? How do you think we're going to get back out into the multiverse? Your portal is toast and besides - that leads to the nightmare realm. How do you suppose we reach whatever dimension this Oracle guy lives in?" Dipper asked.
"She," Ford corrected. "Dimension 52 to be exact. And . . . I have a tentative plan for that."
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