Hello everyone! I have another update for ya'll...I'm not entirely happy with it, to be honest and it's kind of short and filler-y, but I hope this will still suffice. I promise the next chapter will be better. Anyway, lets get on with the story! Gravity Falls belongs to Alex Hirsch Story and AU belong to me. Enjoy~!
The full moon shone overhead in the night sky. Mostly void, partially stars. The sleepy little Oregon town below it remained quiet. The majority of it's residents sound asleep save for the occasional gnome and other creatures that roamed the night.
And of coarse, the terrified scientist.
Stanford's muddy boots thudded against the tiled floor of the kitchen. The puddle of Stanley's blood still remained along with the spilled silverware drawer and it's contents. His heart raced and six fingered hands threaded themselves through his brown and white hair, pulling at it in fear and frustration. His body shook and his breaths were quick, short and paniced.
What the hell was he supposed to do?
"Damn you Bill...Damn you Stanley...Damn EVERYTHING!" he cried in despair, slamming his fist against the kitchen wall in frustration.
Ford dragged his still clenched fist down the side of the wall and rested his forehead against it. He closed his brown eyes and took several deliberately deep and slow breaths to try to calm himself down so he could think. He needed a plan and having a panic attack wasn't going to solve anything.
He analyzed the situation: His brother was being possessed by one of the most dangerous supernatural beings in the entire universe. He had one week to figure out a way to reverse this fact and save his twin and kill said dangerous supernatural being.
Sounds simple.
"Doomed. We're all doomed." Ford sighed in defeat. He removed his forehead from the wall and opted to sit on the floor instead, resting the back of his head against it. The memory of seeing his brother possessed like that constantly assaulting his mind.
Those eyes...those terrible, sickly yellow eyes...Those eyes weren't human. They weren't natural. Had he looked like that when Bill was possessing him?
Ford felt sick as he thought that thought. This was all his fault. If he had never summoned Bill in the first place, none of this would have happened.
"For being the smart twin, I'm such an idiot." he sighed, again trying to think of a solution.
He couldn't outright physically attack Bill without the risk of hurting Stanley in the process. So the solution would be to somehow get Bill out of Stanley's body.
But how?
His mind began to work again, trying to think of all that he knew about the yellow three sided demon. Ford had spent much time with Bill during their years of "friendship." They had worked together, played chess together and talked together.
With every little bit of information that Ford had discovered about Bill, he only knew of one weakness: Being in the mind scape.
A six fingered hand made its way to Ford's chin, rubbing at the stubble. (His lighter ran out of fluid the other week and he was in desperate need of a shave) Perhaps, if he could somehow trick Bill into leaving Stanley's body and enter his own, he could somehow either trap or kill Bill the moment he was out of Stanley's body but before he could posses his own.
But again, HOW?! How do you kill something that doesn't have a physical form?
An angry, frustrated groan escaped the scientists throat. "THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE!"
He buried his face in his hands. He...he couldn't do it. Bill had gotten him for good this time. He couldn't...he couldn't save Stanley.
Not by himself anyway.
The weight of the journal suddenly felt like a heavy cinderblock inside the pocket in his black coat. He remembered a year ago, after he had discovered Bill's betrayal but before he got pushed into the portal. The weeks leading up to that were hell on earth for Stanford. Paranoia had taken over his life. Everywhere he looked he saw triangles and eyeballs staring back at him. He couldn't sleep for days because he knew the instant he did, Bill would be there in his dreams and would do to him exactly what hes doing to Stanley right now.
He remembered during those hellish weeks the warnings about Bill he had written in the journals. Paranoia causing him to write his warnings in invisible ink. And his mental and emotional unstability from the betrayal causing him to write and to live by a single three word phrase for the past year.
Trust No One.
Stanford bit his lip to the point that his teeth broke the skin and he tasted blood. He had been on his own for so long. Everyone that he had trusted in the past eventually betraying him in some way, shape or form. Who could he turn too for help now?
A name suddenly resurfaced in Ford's mind. Aside from Stan, there was only one other person that Stan knew who had knowledge about Bill. One other person who knew Stanford as well as he knew himself. One other person who he was willing to put the past aside for and trust once again.
He just hoped the person would even speak to him.
Stanford knew it was late and that most of the town was asleep, but this was the very definition of an emergency and he needed help as of yesterday.
"He'll understand...I hope."
Despite not being here for a year, Standford was surprised at how easily the memory of the town came back to him. The town hadn't changed much at all during his absence. There was the local diner where Susan the waitress worked and the Convenience store that was run by that nice elderly couple. The buildings were the same. The streets were the same. Everything was the same as it was the last time he saw it.
Stanford took a little bit of comfort in this fact.
The comfort and nostalgia quickly wore off though as he realized he was getting closer to his destination. His stomach did a flip and he bit his bottom lip. What would he say? What could he say? How would he react?
Stanford's worried thoughts were pushed to the side as he spotted his destination. A small but cozy little house just on the outskirts of town. Stanford had been to this house many times. Both for work related business and as a guest, invited over just for fun and friendly bonding.
The scientist was worried. He hadn't been to this house or spoken to its owner since that one night...that one terrible night...
He shook his head. It was too late to chicken out now. He sucked in a breath, marched up the creaky wooden porch steps and pounded his six fingered fist on the door.
"Fiddleford! Fiddleford open up! Please?! It's me! Stanford!"
A moment passed and a light flicked on from the inside. The brunette heard shuffling and heavy footsteps pounding down the stairs and the door was opened by-
Not the person he was expecting it to be opened by.
In the doorway stood a large, large man. Someone who put Stanford in mind of a body builder who liked to eat nails for breakfast and bench press humans instead of weights. He towered over Stanford by a good two and a half feet and the light of the moon reflected off his shiny bald head and his eyes squinted at Stanford in annoyance and in anger at the rude awakening. The scientist felt himself shrink down in fear.
"I have made a grave mistake. He's going to eat me."
"Do you have any idea what time it is?" the man spoke, his voice deep and rumbling like a hungry lion on the prowl. This just further emphasized the fact in Ford's mind that he was just mere moments away from being beaten or devored whole. Perhaps even both.
"I-I-uh-" he coughed and smiled up nervously at the massive, intimidating man. "My deepest apologies sir. There seems to have been a mistake?"
"You don't say?" the man mumbled annoyed. "What do you want four-eyes?"
Ford glanced around at the house. The address was correct, the house number was correct. The house itself was correct. This was the right house but why wasn't he here?
"I'm looking for an old friend of mine who used to live here, I suppose." Ford responded. "Fiddleford McGucket?"
The man blinked the name registering in his mind. "McGucket? You mean that crazy old kook?"
...What?
"Uh...Crazy old kook?" Ford asked uncertainly. He was beginning to get the feeling that he wasnt going to like what he was about to hear.
"Yeah, you haven't heard?" the man asked. "Rumor has it the guy had some sorta mental break down or something about a year ago. Went completely nuts. Anyway he stopped paying his rent for this place and got kicked out so now I'm here."
A weight felt like it was pressing itself down on the scientist as he took in the news. The memory of that night with the portal came rushing towards his mind. "You...You can't be serious!" he cried in despair. "There's no way..."
The man shrugged. "Look man, I don't know. Im just going by rumors." he paused and blinked. "Wait a second, if you're that fools friend how did you not know all this already?"
Ford had to think on his feet here. "I...I haven't been in town for the past year so I'm a bit out of the loop." It wasn't a complete lie, really.
"And why the hell are you looking for him at this god forsaken hour?" the man asked, annoyance lacing his voice. "It's 2:30 AM for cripes sake!"
"I know. I know. I'm really sorry for disturbing you." Ford apologized sincerely. "Listen there's a bit of an emergency and it's really, really important that I find him. Do you know where he is?"
The man let out a yawn. "Try the dump."
Ford blinked. "The dump? Fiddleford's living at the dump!?"
"Look man, I aint got time for this!" the man snapped. "I got a wife and kids sleeping in there and I got to be at work in a few hours. I ain't got time to be playing twenty questions with some weirdo banging on my door at 2:30 in the damn morning."
Ford felt like he should have been offended by the "weirdo" comment but in all honesty, he wasn't. And he didn't blame the man for saying that either because he was also absolutely right.
"Rumor is that he's at the dump, that's all I know." the large man explained grabbing the doorknob in his large beefy hand. "Good luck. Good night and good bye."
Ford flinched as the door was slammed shut in his face. He heard a tiny click signaling the door had been locked and once again he had found himself all alone.
Mental break down?
Dump?
Kook?
The scientist shivered and felt his chest grow tight. Once again the memory of that night racing towards the front of his mind.
Fiddleford getting sucked into the portal.
The wide eyed look of pure terror in his eyes when Ford pulled him out.
The garbled gibberish.
The warning.
And then finally, the fight they had gotten in before Fiddleford stormed out of the house.
That was the last time the two had seen or spoken to each other.
But surely the man had been mistaken. Surely Fiddleford was still fine. Surely he didn't really have a breakdown. Surely it wasn't caused by the portal.
Right?
Once again, Ford pushed his thoughts aside and let out a shaky sigh. There was only one way to find out.
And so, he turned on his heel and began walking in the direction of the town dump.
BTW: Random scary large dude is not supposed to be anyone specific and shall no longer be seen or mentioned in the story again. :'D Hope you all enjoyed this (boring) chapter and stick around for the next one. Have a great day/night/afternoon wherever you are! Bye~!