Chapter 2: One's Enemy

Stanley yelps as a stray spark stings his hand, him shaking it and putting it in his mouth to numb the small amount of pain that radiated.

His hands were greasy and black, both holding some sort of tool in his hand. Next to him was an open book, a page opened to something that looked like the corner of the portal sketched onto the slowly yellowing page. Strange symbols and seemingly random letters were written down, but it seemed like no matter how many times he read the book, or journal he seemed to figure, he couldn't decipher it.

"Damn it!" he screams as when he tried to pull the lever again, but nothing happened. "Why is this so damn hard!?" he shouts as he kicks the side of the portal, causing him to curse as pain radiates through his foot. "Give me my brother back!"

His voice echoes within the dark machine. His brown eyes were wide, his white undershirt a filthy mess from all the work he was putting in. Angry, he picks up one of the tools and throws it at the portal, a metallic clang echoing throughout the room.

As he starts to walk away he grabs the journal and slams it shut. He absently rubs his shoulder, it still stinging from pain. The lights were dim as he walked through the small control room, some lights flashing. He goes to the rickety and tiny elevator, pressing a button to go up, and once he was up he goes to the room where his brother had slept and sat on the couch that only had a thin gray blanket on it with a small pillow.

It had three nights since Stanford Pines went through the portal. It had been three nights since Stanley Pines spent all his daily energy to try and fix the portal to bring his brother back. It had been three nights since Stanley had more than a few hours of sleep.

As he sits on the couch he went and read through the journal again for what it seemed like the millionth time. The journal contained many pages on various odd creatures that were occurred here in Gravity Falls, Oregon. The last huge chunk of the journal contained information on the portal, a failsafe in case it was activated and it needed to be aborted, and there were so many odd symbols and words that he couldn't understand.

How did Stanford discover all this stuff?

He flips through the pages, seeing all the drawings and strange writings from Stanford's studies. There were random side notes as well, some saying that it was dangerous to stay away, or how they some abilities that could leave you poisoned or have amnesia, or worse things. Some things were scribbled out in thick black or red pen, some things were written over it then scribbled again.

Stanley then lays down on the couch, shutting the book and putting it next to him. For some odd reason with that book, knowing it was Stanford's, made him slightly feel better like he was actually there. But, it couldn't truly replace him.

As kids they shared a room while their older brother Sherman, or Shermy for short, had his own room. The twins had bunk beds, Stanford being on the top bunk and Stanley being on the bottom, the walls next to their sleeping space decorated with things that they liked. At night while the twins should be asleep they always talked until they fell asleep, finding comfort in each other's voices to lull them into their slumbers. Even as teenagers, despite them getting older, they still had found comfort in each other, even after the bunk beds were taken down and they were growing up.

For ten years Stanley hadn't been truly comfortable sleeping, finding himself missing the many conversations that he and his twin had had over the years. He knew they were getting older and eventually it would happen, but it felt like it was too soon.

Stanley closes his eyes, seeing nothing but the blue light of the portal and Stanford's terrified face. He gasps as his eyes open wide, them bloodshot from lack of sleep. Without trying to go back to sleep he gets up and goes into the decently sized kitchen in the house, opening the fridge to see very little food items. His stomach growls.

He then searches the cabinets, seeing if there was anything. All he found was various dishes, coffee mugs, coffee cans, and…

"Hello, what's this?" Stanley asks himself as his hands curl around a clear brown glass bottle. He read the tag, seeing that it was whisky. "Well, well, well, Stanford… I didn't know you actually drank…" He then notices that some was missing from it, a few shots being taken from it. "You wouldn't mind if I had some… or all of it, right?" he then asks, not expecting a reply. He pops open the cap of the whisky bottle and starts drinking straight from it, some dribbling from the corner of his mouth. He then finds a few other bottles around in the cabinets, some were vodka and some were more types of whisky, all that had only a few shots taken from them.

He then begins to drink the vodka from the bottle as well, a hard taste that was burning his throat. Soon his head starts spinning, or was it the room? He stumbles, trying to find his balance as he grabbed the second bottle of whisky, actually managing to pour some into glass and proceeding to drink it straight. His vision was starting to black out.

He didn't care as he slumped at the kitchen table and fell asleep, dropping the glass as it rolled away.

Stanford blinks open his eyes, still huddled in his trench coat in the small cave he set himself in.

The fire had long gone out, not even a tiny ember remained. The air around him was cold, him seeing his breath, and despite being in his trench coat his body still shivered violently. He glances outside, seeing that it wasn't snowing as heavily. Slowly, he gets up, putting on his trench coat fully as he slowly stumbles out of the cave and into the snow.

He marches through, the snow deep as it reached just below his knees. Despite him being freezing and hungry, he kept going on, determined to find any source of life. A glow in the distance beckons him, looking bright and lively. Could it be a society of some kind? With a small smile on his face he pushes himself to go faster, to get to the source of the light as fast as he could.

Stanford makes it to what seemed like a small city, with tall buildings and lights flashing around. He bumps into something that resembled a giant insect, causing him to jump back in surprise. As the giant insect walks away, making various sounds that sounded like it was annoyed, Stanford looks around him, seeing all of the creatures that walked around.

"Where… the hell am I?" he asks aloud. He then gets into an alleyway, a hand to his chest. He really was in another dimension, for the first time it truly clicked with him. "That… machine actually worked…" Stanford couldn't decide if he wanted to be happy it worked or terrified. "If it worked… that means-"

Something overhead crackles in a static, almost like a P.A. A weird string of odd words that Stanford didn't recognize was being said over the P.A., some of this strange world's inhabitants grumbling among themselves. The P.A. then cackles a sudden laugh, a high pitch that Stanford knew all too well.

"Hello all!" The high, shrill voice calls out. The inhabitants look up, fully paying attention. "So… I have been informed that there was a disturbance in this dimension…"

"Oh… oh, no…" Stanford mutters to himself as he backs into a wall of the strange alleyway.

"And it's a disturbance from that meat bag filled dimension," the shrill voice continues. "I'm looking for a Stanford Filbrick Pines, since he had access to a portal." A sudden light creeps into the alleyway, no doubt a picture of him being shown.

"Shit…!" Stanford then tries to creep away, but he hits something that resembled glass and it crashed into the ground, shattering.

"So… if you find this man… bring him to me, Bill Cipher," a small pause. "Dead or alive. I honestly don't care which, as long as I get that meat bag." The P.A. then turns off, but not after the shrill laughter that continued to echo in Stanford's ears.

Some strange mumbling is heard towards where Stanford had entered. Shadows from the light bouncing on the walls, seeing the strange creatures. They knew he ran in there…

"Oh, oh shit, shit, shit!" Stanford cries out as a few of those insect looking creatures began appearing, pointing at him and speaking in their odd tongue. He begins running, his trench coat flying behind him, his brown shoes splashing in puddles that resembled water, his brown hair being blown wildly from the wind of his running. He runs to the other side of the alleyway and bursts out into the crowded streets.

A creature points at him as another made its way towards him. Without thinking he started running down the crowded street, him dodging the inhabitants and jumping over various obstacles. His parkour was decent from the years running around Gravity Falls, but this was pushing his limits.

As he runs next to a building, he was suddenly whisked inside, a hand – a human hand – covering his mouth, his scream of surprise muffled. He looks from the corner of his eye and sees a woman about his age, with jet black hair and piercing electric blue eyes, a splash of freckles going from under eyes and over the bridge of her nose. Her skin looked extremely pale, as if she hasn't been in the sun for years.

"You need to be quiet!" the woman hisses quietly at him, slowly backing up and dragging him with her, shutting the door with her foot. Once they were deeper into the building she releases him and he springs away from, his hands up in fists, like he was about to box, facing towards her. "That's how you thank someone that just saved your ass, Stanford Pines?" the woman says to him, exasperated. The woman wore a long black coat, a torn blue scarf around her neck, her pants black and dirty, and she wore knee high flat boots that were muddy.

"Ford…" he replies slowly, looking at her with narrow brown eyes. "You can just call me Ford, Miss…?"

"Layla," the woman tells him. "Layla Bartek." She then holds out her hand. Ford hesitates, his hands still in fists. "Come on, you're being rude!" she snaps at him. Finally, he holds out his hand and grips her for the handshake. "Six fingers…?" he heard her ask, his heart dropping. "Wow… polydactyl, I've never met someone with that! That's pretty cool!" she then says, her voice high and giddy, kind of like a child.

Ford then removes his hand quickly, putting it and his other in the pockets of his trench coat. He looks away, him embarrassed.

Layla gives him an odd look. "Why are you hiding them?" she asks him, her voice sounding a bit sad.

"I… I don't like showing them." Ford states, his voice stuttering. "A lot of people… don't react the way you just did." If he could put his hands deeper into his trench coat he would've.

Layla held up her own hands, her left was missing her thumb and pinky finger, only having a small nub where those appendages would've been. When they shook hands she had used her right, so he didn't notice. She then puts her hand down, him looking at it still.

"I have symbrachydactyly, only on my left hand though." Layla explains. "You have polydactyl on both your hands… that's a double anomaly." She gives a smile, a sad and lonely smile. "So… I know what you mean about not wanting to show your hands."

Ford then takes out his hands out of his pockets and looks at them. Here he was, technically with two extra fingers, and this woman has two less… He clears his throat, now feeling awkward. He's never met anyone with his condition let alone someone with his opposite condition.

"Sorry," he then says. "I didn't mean to be rude then…" even though his hands were out of his pockets, he had put them behind his back out of years of habit.

"It's alright," she assures him. "But… I do have a question for you, Ford."

"Okay… what is it?"

"What does Bill Cipher have against you?"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The name "Bartek" is a type of Oak tree that is found in Poland.

Symbrachydactyly is a condition where limbs are usually missing from one arm or leg, commonly fingers and toes. Bones could be missing or the full limb altogether. In Layla's case she has a small nub that reaches to at least where the first knuckle would be and seems to have partial bones in them, although it has not been fully shown as of right now.

Thanks for reading as always!

~Skye Hendersen~