Ford made his way upstairs from the basement and came to stand in the doorway of the living room, where Stan was watching some inane show or other on TV. Ford had had a lot of time to think over the past couple of days – while creating a device capable of sealing the Rift had taken a stroke of brilliance and a lot of intensive work, the actual act of sealing it, after removing it from the alien adhesive-encased containment dome, which had been a task in and of itself, had been as mindless as it was time consuming. He had appreciated the time, though, because it gave Ford the opportunity to finally figure out what he wanted to say to his brother. Well, no, that wasn't quite true; Ford knew what he wanted to communicate, but the exact words to use to do so seemed to be escaping him at the moment. He knew he really shouldn't be putting this off any longer, but maybe just one more day to get his thoughts in order…
"Ford, just say whatever it is you want to say. You standing there watching me is starting to get a little creepy." Ford startled, suddenly realizing that Stan had turned the TV off and was staring at him expectantly. "Is this about the kids? Because you absolutely do not have my permission to do anything dangerous with them, but if you're trying to bond or whatever, that's fine. The kids are happier when they like you, and things are better for everyone when they're happy."
"No, it's not about the children," Ford said, taking a few steps and entering the room more fully. "It's… Stanley, I can't thank you for pulling me out of the portal." Well, off to a great start there, genius. There's no way Stan could possibly take that wrong.
Predictably, Stan's expression darkened. "Can't say I was getting my hopes up, but nice of you to let me know not to bother," Stan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm and something even more bitter.
"That's not what I meant," Ford said. "That is, it is what I meant, but there's a greater context to it that I need you to understand." Stan didn't look impressed by that explanation, but he at least seemed willing to let Ford continue. "I can't thank you because, no matter what your reasons were for what you did, the fact is that portal never should have been opened again, because doing so ran the risk of destroying our universe. And that is not a hyperbole, there was a very real possibility of opening that portal resulting in the destruction of the universe; in a way, that's what it was designed to do."
"You designed a machine to destroy the universe," Stan said flatly.
"No. Well, yes. Well, it wasn't exactly… It was a complicated situation," Ford prevaricated. Even now that the danger had passed for this universe, Ford didn't feel comfortable admitting to how Bill had tricked him.
"So un-complicate it," Stan said.
"Look, that part's not what's important. What's important is that, regardless of your intentions, risking the entire universe just to save one person is not the right thing to do, if for no other reason than if you destroy the universe, then any efforts to save that person become moot. But," Ford said loudly, overriding the protest that he was sure Stan had been about to give, "just because intentions won't change the end results, that doesn't mean they don't matter. I can't thank you for what you did, because I think it was wrong, but I can thank you for wanting to save me and for never giving up on me, even after over twenty-five years. So, thank you, Stanley."
There, that was the best Ford could do, his peace offering. It wasn't going to solve everything, he knew, because it wasn't that simple, but it was a start. That's what they needed right now, and if Stan was too proud to reach out (or too wary because every time he'd done so in the past he'd gotten burned), then Ford would.
It was a good start, it seemed, from the way years of tension – tension that Ford hadn't even noticed until now and when he had stopped being able to read his brother effortlessly? – bled off Stan in response. "You're welcome. And hey, I'm not sorry for saving you, even if you think it was wrong, but I'm sorry if I screwed up how I went about it."
Ford felt a wave of emotion wash over him at that, so strong he had to close his eyes for a second.
"Ford?"
"I needed to hear that." Though even Ford hadn't realized how much he needed to until Stan had said it. Because Stan was always, always spinning things, even back when they had been kids. It was always 'don't worry about it' or 'it's not that bad' or 'look at the bright side' or 'maybe there's a silver lining to me wrecking your chances to getting into your dream school and ruining your life.' Wait, stop, he was an adult; he was past that. Truthfully, it was something he mostly liked about his brother, something he even needed sometimes, because when things started going very bad, Ford had a tendency to catastrophize and make them worse.
(Ford could imagine an alternate universe, one where Stan had realized that treasure hunting wasn't a viable life plan, and Ford hadn't gotten into West Coast Tech for a different reason. In that universe, Ford doesn't wind up at Backupsmore, because when he's spiraling downward,sure he would never be able to get into any college or ever recover from this rejection, Stan is right there saying, 'Are you kidding me? My brother's a genius. There's hundreds, no thousands, millions of schools out there dying to get you to go there.' And then Ford tells them there aren't even a million colleges in the world period, but he's smiling while he says it and thinking 'maybe.' And another one where Ford had called Stan up to Gravity Falls before everything went horribly wrong to reconnect because Ford was an adult and he was past childish grudges and hadn't seen his brother in years. In that universe, Ford never descends down to the depths of paranoia and despair because when the truth comes out and all Ford can think is how his Muse was a monster who betrayed him, Stan is right there saying, 'Okay, so what do we need to do to stop him? I mean, he's a triangle that dresses up like he thinks he's Mr. Monopoly. I'm pretty sure we can take him.' And Ford doesn't smile because he can't right then, but he does think, 'maybe.' And another… well, he has had a lot of time to think these past couple of days.)
So maybe sometimes Stan's relentless optimism, even to the point of being unrealistic, was good for Ford. But other times, Ford just wanted to hear his brother say, 'I'm sorry. I messed up, and you got hurt, and I'm sorry.' "I really needed to hear that," Ford repeated.
"I told you I was sorry already, didn't I?" Stan said, his tone sounding like it wanted to be light and joking but wasn't quite able to manage it.
"No, you never did, for any of it," Ford told him, but there was no venom in it. How could there be when Stan looked so shocked by the idea?
"Well I am; I'm sorry for all of it. I'm sorry I broke your nerd project and I'm sorry I didn't tell you so you could fix it and I'm sorry I messed up your chances of getting into that school and ruined your life. I'm sorry I wasn't here for you when things got all screwy up here and you needed help and I'm sorry that I didn't listen to what you were trying to tell me when I did get here. I'm sorry for threatening to burn your journal and starting that fight and for pushing you into the portal. I'm sorry that it took me over twenty-five years to save you. I'm sorry that I took your name, your house, your life. And I'm sorry for all the things you missed: I'm sorry you missed saying good-bye to Ma and Pa and Shermie, and you missed those two kids being born, and –"
"That's enough," Ford said, his eye screwed shut tight against the stinging in them. It had been freeing at first, to finally get the apologies he had been owed, but the worn out and broken down litany had just kept going and going until it was too much. How had Stan been carrying this much guilt around; why hadn't Ford noticed? He took a deep breath in, then let it out and opened his eyes again. "It's okay, Stanley. I forgive you."
Stan laughed, harsh and full of self-hatred. "It's funny, you know. I apologized to you so many times in my head, I guess I forgot I never did it out loud. I really am a screw-up, huh?"
"You're not a screw-up. I won't deny that you have screwed up in the past, because you have, but so have I and so has everyone else in the world. That doesn't mean it's all you are." One of Ford's screw ups had been forgetting that fact, and letting his own hurt and betrayal and their dad's opinions color his memories of Stan into a caricature of who his brother really was. "You think those kids would look up to you as much as they do if you were a screw up?"
"Eh, they're kids, what do they know?" Stan said, but the mention of the family Stan had made for himself did bring Stan's mood up somewhat, as Ford had hoped it might.
"They know a lot more than I do, at least when it comes to family," Ford admitted. "They get that from you."
"Yeah, well, they're smart kids," Stan said, apparently completely unconcerned by the fact that he'd just contradicted his previous statement.
"They are," Ford agreed, smiling slightly. Then the expression dropped and he sighed a little. He wasn't sure how Stan was going to take what he had to say next, but Ford didn't think he'd be particularly pleased by it. "There's something else. I've decided that you and the kids are welcome to stay in my house as long as you like, and you can keep the Mystery Shack up and running as well."
"Don't strain yourself with excitement," Stan remarked, half amusement and half annoyance. "Look is this about me taking over your science-y space for the Mystery Shack stuff? 'Cause I've been thinking, what with one thing and the other I've got a decent bit of money saved up, especially now that the mortgage is paid off, so we could probably talk to Manly Dan and get him to give us a good deal on adding a couple of additions to the place."
"Stanley, that's…" Ford interrupted. "It's a nice offer, but when I said you all could stay it was in part because I won't be. It's going to take a few weeks to get my portable wormhole portal gun working again after the damage done to it coming through the old portal, but after that I'm leaving."
"No!"
They both froze, Stan halfway up out of his chair, neither of them having expected Stan's outburst. They stared at each other for a minute, but before either of them could think of anything to say, they heard the pounding of two pairs of feet running down the stairs.
"Grunkle Stan!" "Grunkle Stan!"
"Is it a gremgoblin?" Dipper called.
"Or the IRS?" Mabel added.
The children's shouts were enough to shake Stan out of his shocked state, and he sunk back down into his chair and glared at Ford, who was still regarding Stan with confusion and surprise. That was how the kids found them when they came in the room a moment later.
"Are you two fighting again?" Mabel asked, scrutinizing them both.
"No," Ford said. He hadn't expected Stan to react that strongly to Ford's decision, admittedly, but before that they'd been getting along better than they had in a very, very long time.
"Yes," Stan answered simultaneously, then scowled at Ford. "You know what, you're right: we aren't fighting. Because every time, every single time, I think things are finally going to work out between us, you just want us to get as far away from each other as possible. So fine, leave if that's what you want to do, 'cause I'm done with it."
That wasn't… Ford hadn't…
"Grunkle Ford? Are you leaving on another camping trip?" Dipper asked uncertainly. "Because you said you'd take me next time if you weren't going to do anything dangerous."
"We can all go," Mabel added excitedly. "Family camping trip!"
"I'm afraid this trip would be much too dangerous for you," Ford told them. "And it's not a camping trip either. In a few weeks, I'll be leaving this dimension again and going back to traveling the multiverse."
Mabel punched him.
It didn't physically hurt, of course. Mabel was only a little girl, not even nine years old yet for another week's time, so she lack the sheer muscle power to hurt him, even if she did manage to hit him right in the kidney. But the shock of his little niece, one of the sweetest and brightest people he'd ever met, actually punching him still sent him reeling.
"That's not trying!" she screamed, then she ran over and climbed up on Stan's lap, looping her arms tight around his neck and glaring at Ford.
"Mabel," Stan said, a warning edge to his tone.
"Don't tell me to say sorry, 'cause I won't, 'cause I'm not," she said defiantly. "Plus you said I could hit anyone that was trying to hurt me or my family, and Great Uncle Ford is hurting you."
Stan had no response to that. Neither did Ford, save perhaps that he hadn't intended to hurt Stan this badly, but then Ford was the one who had just been saying that intentions didn't change the facts of a situation. And the fact was he had clearly upset Stanley, even if he hadn't anticipated it and didn't fully understand why. He hadn't expected Stan to be glad about Ford leaving exactly, but prior to ten minutes ago the two of them had been in the middle of a fight that had spanned months, if not decades, and two months ago Ford had threatened Stan's home and livelihood. Surely Stan shouldn't be this disturbed at the thought of Ford leaving.
"I don't understand." Ford turned to see Dipper still standing just inside the doorway, regarding Ford with a confused and plaintive expression. "Why do you want to leave us?"
"That's not it at all," Ford said, dropping down on one knee so he could look Dipper in the eye and place his hands on the boy's shoulders. Dipper flinched at the contact, but he didn't actually try to pull away at least. "I don't want to leave you, not any of you." Ford gave a pointed look at Stan, imploring his brother to understand. "This is about a mistake I made a very long time ago and how I have to take responsibility to fix it."
"So you're going to fix it and come right back, right?" Dipper asked.
"I'm afraid this isn't going to be something quick or easy to fix. And even if I do manage to fix it, I don't have any way of returning to this particular dimension. I won't be coming back," Ford said gently.
"But you have to come back," Dipper protested. "You can fix it and then invent a machine to get back here, because you're really smart and I know you can do it, so you have to come back." Dipper swiped at his eyes furiously and Ford found himself completely at a loss for words.
"What mistake?" Stan asked, startling Ford.
"I'm sorry?"
"Look Ford, you think I don't know a thing or two about trying to make up for a mistake? So I'm asking what you did that was so bad that you have to leave home forever to fix it."
Ford hesitated. He had been reluctant to tell everyone the truth of what he had been dealing with, partially for the sake of their own safety. But he'd made things as safe as they could possibly be at this point, so the only thing holding him back now was his pride. It would be hard to admit to how foolish he'd been, but looking at them now – Dipper struggling to pretend he was dry-eyed, Mabel still glaring at him fiercely, and Stan, who had never once given up on bringing Ford back – Ford thought he owed it to them to tell the truth.
"Back when I was first investigating Gravity Falls, there was a point when I hit a roadblock. I got so desperate I was willing to try anything, no matter how ill-advised. That's when I met him; a mysterious being came to me in my dreams, claiming that he was a muse that chose one brilliant mind a century to inspire and I, blinded by his flattery, believed him. It wasn't until much later, too late almost, that I learned the truth. That my 'muse' had been tricking me and couldn't be trusted. He wasn't a muse at all, but the most powerful and dangerous being I had ever encountered that would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. And what he wanted was nothing more than to destroy our reality."
"Bill Cipher," Dipper said. And in that moment, Ford knew true terror.
"How do you know that name?" Ford demanded.
"I-It was in your journal," Dipper stammered.
"But you haven't seen him, or made any deals with him," Ford said.
"No," Dipper said, shaking his head. Ford grabbed him and pulled him in close, eliciting a squeak of surprise from Dipper. Ford just held Dipper for a moment, reassuring himself that his nephew was here and safe and Bill hadn't gotten to him.
"And you Mabel?"
"I haven't seen him," she said, gripping Stan tighter, probably in response to Ford's fear. Stan was rubbing a comforting hand up and down her back in response, but the look on his face was not one that Ford liked.
"Stanley?"
"I, uh, may have seen him a couple of times," Stan admitted, "but not for a really long time. He showed up after you first got sucked through the portal and tried to make a deal with me to bring you back. But he reminded me of, well me, and I didn't trust him, especially not with how paranoid you'd been acting when I got here. When I wouldn't deal, I guess he gave up and left."
"Say rather he turned his attention elsewhere," Ford corrected. "Bill may be powerful, but the multiverse is infinitely vast and he can't turn his attention everywhere at once. If he thought he wasn't making any progress in invading this dimension, it's not surprising that he might decide to look elsewhere. But Bill is relentless, and he won't stop until he finds a new dimension he can take over and destroy in his own image.
"All of you should be safe from him now, though. I've shielded the house against his influence, and furthermore there shouldn't be any reason for him to turn his attention back to his dimension again. I've finished completely dismantling the portal and fixed the damage it caused in the walls of this dimension, and I've destroyed all the references on how to summon Bill that I can find. Now all that's left to do is for me to go back out there and find a way to get rid of Bill once and for all."
"And why's that gotta be you that does it?" Stan asked with narrowed eyes.
"Weren't you listening? It's my fault that Bill nearly destroyed this dimension; it's because I blindly trusted him that the portal was even built in the first place. Now I have to take Bill out, and make up for that mistake."
"No, you needed to make up for your mistake building the portal – and I turned on the portal too, same as you, so it's probably my fault too some – by keeping Bill from destroying our dimension, which it sounds like you already did," Stan said. "But I don't see as how taking Bill out is your responsibility; it's not your fault this guy is evil or anything."
"But it is my responsibility," Ford said, momentarily reeling for the surety he had felt not twenty minutes ago. "While I was traveling the multiverse, one of the dimensions I found myself in was Dimension 52, where I met an oracle, Jheselbraum the Unswerving. She told me a lot about Bill, but most importantly that I had the face of the one who would destroy Bill."
Stan scoffed. "I don't want to say this broad was scamming you into trying to get you to do the dirty work of taking Bill out, but she was definitely scamming you into trying to get you to do the dirty work of taking Bill out."
Ford shook his head. "I understand why you might think that, but you weren't there. I'm the one who's met Jheselbraum and I can assure you she is a true oracle; I trust her."
Stan opened his mouth to say something, then appeared to reconsider. "Okay, let's say she is the real deal. How many people do you think there are in all these different dimensions with your face?"
Ford blinked a few times in surprise, the idea having honestly never occurred to him before. "There's two right in this room," Mabel added helpfully.
"I don't think your Grunkle Stan is going to be the one to take out a monster that's terrorizing all of existence, sweetie," Stan told her.
"But she makes an excellent point. Across the infinitely large multiverse the number of people with the same face as I have is theoretically infinitely many." Other Stanford Pines and Stanley Pines for a start, plus relatives of theirs whose faces might be similar enough to be considered the same, and even complete strangers that might coincidentally look identical to Ford. If you cast your net wide enough, the possibilities literally become endless.
"There, see, let one of those other guys worry about Bill," Stan said.
It was tempting, so tempting. To leave Bill and all of that behind and concentrate on the here and now and his family. Well, Stan's family. "I can't. I don't even know how many of those others would be willing or able to take Bill out," – Ford didn't even know if he himself was able, but he was willing, so he had to try, didn't he? – "and of those that are, I can't expect them to leave their lives behind when I don't even know what kind of lives I'm expecting them to leave. It's better that I go, because you all have your family; you don't need me."
"Of course we need you, Grunkle Ford!" Mabel cried. She climbed down off of Stan's lap, came over to Ford, and grabbed the right sleeve of his sweater, Dipper having never let go of Ford's left sleeve after Ford released him from the hug earlier. The two of them gripped him tightly, as if they could keep him from leaving just by the force of their hold. "Who else is going to take me to search for the mythical unipegapony?"
"And who else is going to play Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons with me?" Dipper added.
"And you think I spent over twenty-five years trying to fix that portal just to make up for a mistake?" Stan asked. "This is where you belong Ford, with your family."
"I…"
"I'm sorry I hit you earlier. Well, I'm mostly sorry. So please stay," Mabel said.
"Please, Grunkle Ford?" Dipper added.
Ford looked at the three of them, all watching him with open, hopeful expressions, though Stan's was a little more hidden than the kids' were. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath in. Then he let it out, imagining he could feel decades' worth of stress and uncertainty and paranoia go with it. "Alright. I'll stay."
The kids cheered. "Awkward family hug?" Dipper suggested.
"Awkward family hug!" Mabel agreed enthusiastically, and both kids threw their arms around his neck.
Ford wrapped one arm around each of them, feeling for the first time since he couldn't remember when that he was at last where he belonged. He looked up at his brother, smiling. "Stanley?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," Stan said, but his grumbling was no mask for his pleased expression as he knelt down next to them and joined their group hug, which, despite the name, was far from awkward.
Ford and Stan still had things to work out between them, he knew. The many years of misunderstanding and resentment and anger, even misplaced anger, didn't go away over the course of a single conversation. And Ford suspected he would still have some work to do to fully make up for his mistakes with the little niblings as well. But they were a family, so whatever was needed, they'd do it, and however long it took, they'd get there.
Maybe it really was just that simple.