Stanley Pines' life had been filled with ups and downs.
To be honest it was mostly downs, but it wasn't completely miserable.

Now it seemed like it was climbing a hill, hopefully it would reach a somewhat long plateau, he couldn't stand it if this was just another letdown.
The resounding thought he had was that he still had no idea how Ford had gotten his address.

Not that he was angry about that, no, if anything he was happy, happy that his brother wanted to see him again, even if it had been over ten years.

Had it really been a decade? A decade since he had ruined Ford's (and his own) life? A decade of nearly constant running, whether from the law, or worse. It was amazing how fast time traveled.
He could barely believe that now he was in his car, entering a little town in Oregon (thank goodness he wasn't banned from that state, yet...), passing a billboard that read "Gravity Falls". Of course Ford would live in a town whose name was a pun, he thought, that's exactly the kind of thing his brother would do.

He turned his car down Gopher street.
618, he'd memorized Fords address as soon as he got the postcard, 618 Gopher St. Gravity Falls Oregon, Stan could say it backwards in his sleep, if he could sleep. It had been a long time since he'd felt safe enough to do so, Rico was still out there... Maybe... Maybe his goons were following him, ready to jump him. Maybe Ford didn't really want to see him and this was a trap, maybe Ford...

No. Stan couldn't think like that. Ford was smart enough to stay out of trouble. He was oblivious maybe, but smart enough not to make deals with people like Rico, that was Stan's forte.

He finally stopped the car outside a house that shared a number with the postcard. It didn't scream 'Stanford Pines lives here', but it seemed like a place he would like.

"Alright Stan," he said to himself as he got out of the car and walked toward the wooden front door, he slung a duffel bag filled with his essentials over his shoulder, it was one of his habits, just in case.
"You haven't seen your brother in over ten years, but he's family, he won't bite..." He knocked softly on the heavy wooden door and braced himself for whatever his brother had in there.

"Who are you? Have you come to steal my eyes?!"

Stan hadn't noticed the door opening, and definitely wasn't expecting a crossbow to be the first thing greeting him, he breathed in slowly and noticed Ford, or at least an older version of the last one he'd seen.

Thankfully Ford seemed to recognize Stan, and tilted the crossbow away from his face.
"Nice to see you too Sixer," Stan said as Ford waved him inside.

But before Stan could even look around a bright light was being shone in his eyes. "Hey!" he said, trying to wave Ford's flashlight out of his face like a mosquito. "What's the big idea?"

"I'm sorry," Ford said, slipping the flashlight into one of his various pockets, "I had to make sure you weren't... Never mind."

"Never mind?" Stan choked, "You're acting like mom after a tenth cup of coffee. What's going on?" he finally glanced around the room, which was filled with papers, animal stuff, feathers, fur, tracks, and other science-y stuff. He also noticed about a dozen identical white mugs lying willy-nilly on top of a bunch of flat surfaces, Ford had already picked one up and was taking a sip of a dark brown liquid. "Oh," was all that Stan could force himself to say.

"I have something to show you," Ford said, putting the mug down on top of a stack of books. He placed a six-fingered hand on one of Stan's shoulders, "Something you won't believe."
Stan scoffed at the notion. "I've been around the world Sixer, whatever it is, I'll understand."

He had absolutely no idea of how wrong he was.

Ford took him through one of the various doors (why he had so many of those Stan couldn't say) and led him through a creepy passageway and down an elevator, to show him... A giant upside down triangle.

"What kind of sci-fi mumbo jumbo did you have to learn to build this?" Stan breathed, staring through the hole in the contraption.

"It's not mumbo- never mind." Ford said, stepping in front of Stan and looking up and down the machine.
"I brought you here to ask you a question," Ford started, turning around and opening one side of his coat.

"I'm all ears," Stan said, watching his brother's hand grab something from a large inside pocket.
Within moments he was handed a red book, with a golden hand that read -1- on the cover.

"Stan, remember our plans to sail away on a boat?"
No. It couldn't be.. Ford had made it perfectly clear that he hadn't wanted to do that, why would he want that now? But Stan couldn't help but get a little excited at the prospect...

"Take this book, get on a boat, and sail as far away from here as you can!"

Stan's blood froze. Ford hated him. This book was probably full of writings telling him how awful he was/is. After all these years, Ford just wanted Stan to leave him alone.

He wasn't really listening to what he was saying, but his brain chose words that would bring the most pain to Stanford, to make him understand.

The next thing he knew, he was holding his brother's book over his lit cigarette lighter.

"No!" Ford exclaimed, and made a dive for Stan's hand, but Stan ducked out of his way. "You said you wanted me to have it. You gave it to me. I'll do what I want with it!" Stan said, letting the flame get a tiny bit closer to the worn pages.

"You- you can't!" Ford said, moving again to grab it.
"And why not?" Stan said, his voice barely under a shout. Ford looked torn for a moment, and, oh so tired, he looked like he hadn't slept in a week.

"Because-" he said, and there was a quiver in his voice. "Because I have to get him back."
Stan moved the book a little away from the lighter, but didn't extinguish it. "Get who back?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm, Ford looked bad enough at it was.

"My assistant," Ford said, glancing between the book and Stan.

"Fiddleford McGucket."

Dear Mrs. McGucket and son.

We are sorry to inform you that your husband, Fiddleford McGucket, has been reported dead by Gravity Falls Police force.
The last person to have interacted with him, Stanford Pines, said that he was going into town at approximately 6:25 yesterday evening. When he didn't return by morning he discovered the remains of a car crash and the license plate confirms that it belongs to your husband.

His body will be left here in the Gravity Falls police station for thirty (30) days for your choice of burial, if you do not mail your response or obtain the body it will be cremated and laid to rest in the Gravity Falls cemetery.

With all our regards.
GFPF.
-Gravity Falls Police Force

It should have been rainy. Or cloudy. Or at least something other than sunny the day of the funeral.

Mrs. McGucket and her son stood next to the gravestone on the hill, looking down at the letters and numbers that the youngest McGucket couldn't understand.
He cried when he heard daddy wasn't coming back though.

It wasn't a very big memorial, well, unless you counted all of Fiddleford's relatives, but still, for someone as warm and caring as Fiddleford there should have been more.

"I don't blame you y'know." Ford, who had been lost in his own thoughts, glanced up at the voice, Mrs. McGucket.

She was pretty, a bit plain, but pretty in her own slightly nerdy way. Ford could see why his college buddy would like her, they had started dating just before Ford's graduation, but that was the only time Ford had met her.

He clenched his hand into a fist, and rubbed his dark eyes with the other. He was wearing the suit his father had given him, it was supposed to be for his wedding, but Ford highly doubted that.

"Thanks." was all he managed to say. She might not blame him, but he knew the truth.

They didn't speak to each other again. She moved off to her family, and Ford knew it was for the best.

He sat through the stories that the family shared, but he was so tired he wanted to doze off.

No, he couldn't, not here, not now.

He couldn't wait for the end of the service.

Mrs. McGucket let him keep Fiddleford's clothes, but she did take his banjo and other musical instruments and books. "For our son." she told him.

Ford couldn't agree more.

"First things first." Stan had turned the lighter off, and Ford felt like he could breathe again. "Who's Mc-Bucket, and what happened to him. How can this book help, and why do you want me to take it if it can?"

"McGucket," he clarified, and sighed, "He's, well, he was, my assistant."

"You said," Stan said, Ford nodded, and pinched the brim of his nose, causing his glasses to rise up slightly. "I- I needed help, with, with the portal." Was he going to tell Stan everything? Even about... Could he trust him? He had written to himself to trust no one, but that was for Gravity Falls, Stan wasn't from Gravity Falls, Bill...

"To explain I'm going to have to show you something else." Stan sighed, "More nerd stuff?" he laughed, but Ford couldn't bring himself to even smile. "Yes, and no." He said, and turned to head back into the elevator. He stepped into the metal walls, and turned around. Stan hadn't budged, he was holding the journal, and seemed torn. Ford tried to remember if there was something else to tell him about. Why couldn't Stan see that this was important? What was so wrong about going back in the elevator?

"Come on Stan. I- I need you to see this."
Stan still stood in the same place, and the look in his eyes made him look like he was going to... was he going to? No, Stan hadn't cried in front of Ford since they were ten, when he'd borrowed their father's golden chain to shine, and they'd gotten attacked by the Jersey Devil. Was he really going to...

"Ford, I got nothing to show you." He wasn't crying, but he was clenching the book tightly in his hands. "You got a... a magic space portal or somethin', you got something else you have to show me. You had an assistant, you got a house, you got, what, fifty PHD's? And what do I have?"

Ford didn't know what to say, his life was so normal for him, he had messed it up, and he knew it, but he was making Stan... jealous?

"I have a mullet Stanford! A mullet, a beat up car, a bunch of old scars, and a guy who'd like nothing less than to see my guts painted on the sidewalk!" He was walking forward, clumsily, like he was drunk, but Ford's scan said he wasn't, "I did a great job with my life! And you did... You have everything I wanted!"

Ford couldn't think. Stanley didn't know about Bill, he didn't know where Fiddleford was. He didn't know the lie Stanford had had to tell Mrs. McGucket. He didn't know he went to Backupsmore. He was, he was speaking from his ignorance. But if Stan had been in his place, with his smarts, with his abnormalities, he'd do so much better.

"Stanley, I have to show you this. You'll see what I did." Ford hadn't let himself be vulnerable since that fateful night so long ago, because Stan was the only person he had ever been vulnerable with.

"Stanley, I messed up." How was he saying this, he knew it was true, but the words just came out, he had promised to never tell anyone about this. Why was he trusting Stan? Shouldn't he be telling his mother? Or Sherman?

"Come with me and I'll show you."

A.N.

I've recently watched Gravity Falls for the first time. (Thank you Disney+) And I knew I wanted to write about it.

But what to write?

I figured out my favorite character (Ford) easily and I sort of, maybe kinda, obsessed a little over his backstory.
I was surprised when I didn't find AU's about if Fiddleford was the one stuck on the other side, I mean, for a brief second he (or at least his head) was.

Then an idea formed in my head. And that idea sparked this story. If you like it, leave a review, or follow, or favorite. If you guys like it I'll work on it, (even though I'm still working on Viper and Cottonmouth, don't worry) feel free to leave your thoughts and/or prompts.

BTW, I'm not Alex Hirsch, so, no season 3 (all the sadness).

-Brilliant Light