It was finally time to test the machine.
Ford tried not to think of the near disaster that was the last evening at the diner. He was glad that Fiddleford was there, but he was absolutely sure that he would never tell him the true secret behind the portal. The Astonishing Anomalies of Gravity Falls. The very thought.
The dummy was held between them, a rope tied around it's waist. Ford looked almost longingly into the bright swirl of the portal, then ordered, "Now!"
He let go of his side of the dummy, a moment after Fiddleford released his own, and that's when it happened.
He felt the rope snag on his wrist. His feet left the floor as he was sucked into the portal's gravity. He was spun around, and he could see Fiddleford desperately grab for the rope. A second too late.
Ford's head entered the gateway, and he saw a flash of triangular horror... Then... It was over.
He landed with a thud on the ground. His thoughts muddled together. Shock and horror welling up inside of him. Then he realized with a start that he was the very first person to enter another Dimension. He would go down in the history books!
Stanford Pines would be legendary.
"The Author of the Journals... My brother..."
A limp body fell out of the portal, and landed on the ground. A moment later, another followed suit. The second one lay on his back, staring at the ceiling.
Then he sat boldly upright, and cried out in a voice of pure joy, "Yes! It worked! And you said we might die..."
Well, the man had Ford's voice, so he was most likely Ford...
"What happened to my basement?!" Ford cried, scrambling to his feet and rushing to the busted up portal. "This will take months to fix. This is just great... Wait, Fiddleford! Are you..." He spun around and saw Stan and the kids, his eyes widened as his sentence trailed off. "Well this is awkward."
"Ford?" Stan said quietly, stepping up to the young man, "What..?"
Ford raised his eyebrows, "Hello," he said bowing a little towards Stan. "My name is Stanford Pines, I'm from another Dimension."
Stan's jaw fell open. "Ford... I know who you are... It's me."
Ford tilted his head to the side, "I'm sorry sir. I don't know who you are. I'm a researcher in Gravity Falls Oreg-"
"Ford, it's me! Stanley!" Stan cried, stopping his brother's sentence short and rushing to him. "Are you okay?"
"Stanley?" Ford asked, scratching the right side of his head, "Why are you here? Why are you so old?"
This was bad.
This was bad. This was bad. This was very very bad.
Fiddleford stared at the still running portal. He had just failed to save his friend. In his fatigue, he had killed his best friend! This was bad... This was bad...
Suddenly a Stanford shaped figure suddenly appeared in the middle of the vortex, and Fiddleford felt like he could breathe again.
The figure stepped slowly out, and Fiddleford instantly knew something was wrong. The man had the same build as Stanford, but everything else was different. His trenchcoat and sweater were black and... Sweet sarsparilla, was that a gun strapped to his back? There was a mask covering his mouth and nose, and goggles over his eyes. But the thing that scared him the most was his voice.
"Fiddleford?"
He had Ford's voice. An older, slightly huskier voice, but Ford's nonetheless. What was on the other side? Oh goodness... Oh man...
"Stanford?" He choked out, his voice wavering. "What happened to you?"
"Where's Stanley?" Ford asked, not answering Fiddleford's question. He gazed down at his shorter friend, and reached up to take off his mask, but seemed to think better of it, dropping his hands to his sides.
"Stan... Lee?" Fiddleford asked, "I don't know a Stanley... Are you okay? What happened to you?"
"Fiddleford," Ford said in a calming tone, once again not paying attention to his questions. He reached back up to grab onto the sides of his mask, "Just don't scream, or faint, or anything of that nature." That didn't exactly make the young scientist feel any better, but he nodded.
Ford took off his mask, and pushed his hood back. Fiddleford gasped. In the one minute Stanford had been out of this world, he appeared to have aged twenty years. Stanford Pines... Was old.
Ford caught Fiddleford before he fell backwards. This was fine... It would be fine...
"Wait. So you're telling me that it's 2012, and you've been living in my house for thirty years. After you shoved me through? I can understand the first part, but the rest... What?"
Ford sat in between Dipper (who was staring at him like his life depended on it) and Mabel. Stan had decided to explain his reasons for being there to Ford before launching into the rest of his life story.
Ford had an arm slung over Mabel's shoulder, she had earned his trust within moments of meeting him. He would have done the same to Dipper, but he was afraid he'd give the kid a heart attack.
"That's how it goes." Stan said, "You called me here, then we got in a fight, and I accidentally shoved you through. And it's been thirty years since then."
Ford lifted his free hand up to his chin, "It's likely that this is a parallel universe, I don't know that I have a reason to bring you to my house..."
"You told me to take your Journal." Stan said, looking guiltily at the ground, "I got upset, and then everything else happened."
"I honestly have no idea why I would do that." Ford said, glancing over at Mabel, "Seriously, zero."
"I guess you'll just have to read it." Mabel said, "I mean, Dipper's says to trust no one..."
"Trust no one?" Ford asked, looking towards the ground, "I did not write that. I trust Fiddleford... Oh my goodness..." He said, looking up at Stan with a shocked realization, "Fiddleford! Where is he?"
Dipper and Mabel winced. "He sorta went a bit..." Mabel twirled a finger next to her head and whistled, "Something about a 'dangerous' project the two of you were working on... Erased his memory and all that..."
"He what?!" Ford asked, standing up, "Why on earth would he do that? We already destroyed his memory ray... Probably... Oh my, he used it on me... He used his memory ray on me! His best friend!"
Dipper and Mabel shared a glance. Ford grabbed the tips of his hair and started breathing hard. "I'm trapped in an alternate universe... My best friend... I don't... I need to talk to my Muse."
"You've asked me before where I got the idea for the portal, and I'm afraid I was never honest with you about that."
Fiddleford was sitting on the couch, holding a steaming mug of coffee in his slightly shaking hands. He was staring at Ford's face and hair. He nodded, and Ford sighed.
"In 1980, I met the most peculiar, and dangerous, creature I have ever encountered, and that's saying something." Ford explained, "He told me that he was my Muse. That he chose one brilliant mind a century to inspire..."
As he explained what had happened to him, Fiddleford's eyes widened, his knee began to bounce quickly, and Ford couldn't help but smile at his friend's action. Fiddleford gaped at his friend, and mumbled, "Oh man... Why does that make sense? Why..?"
"Because it's what happened..." Ford said sadly, "I should have listened to you when I had the chance." He gazed sadly down at his hands, which were folded neatly on his lap. "I've spent thirty years working on fixing my mistakes. And I'm... I'm sorry for not trusting you. You were just looking out for me."
Fiddleford didn't know how to feel. This Stanford seemed very different from the one he'd gone to see that morning. Almost eerily so. It was just a testament to how a simple mistake can change a life drastically.
"It's..." Fiddleford started, then he bit his lip. Normally his first response to a situation like this would be to erase it from his mind. But then he'd be in a worse condition than before. And he didn't want to loose Stanford completely...
"It's fine," he lied. "I'm fine..."
Ford laughed, but it didn't seem real. "Fiddleford," he said, and Fiddleford was reminded of his father, it was that same kind of tone that all of them used. "I know you. You're not fine."
No he wasn't. But could he admit that?
"There is something I must ask of you." Ford said, standing up and extending his hand out to him. "This portal, it is too dangerous for the world it feeds into. Will you help me destroy it?"
Fiddleford stared at his friend's hand, then down into his dark drink. Destroy the machine? Destroy any chance of bringing the real Ford back?
"I... I can't do that Stanford." He said, squeezing his eyes shut. "We worked so hard... And he's on the other side..."
Stanford grit his teeth together, "They both are. Are you really going to risk it all just for..." He gulped then changed his approach. "Are you going to let the world be destroyed for his sake? Can you really say you would put your wife and son's lives on the line? It's too dangerous Fiddleford!"
Fiddleford took a deep breath, then stared angrily into Ford's hard eyes. "I don't know. I honestly don't know..."
Ford moved his hand to Fiddleford's shoulder and squeezed it. "Then we'll have to find out. And soon." He stated, and released him. "You have twenty four hours. Then I will start dismantling the portal, with or without you. Be there, or get left behind."
Stanford would never truly change.
"Muse?" Stan asked, following Ford up the stairs after they erased the government agents memories. "What 'Muse'?"
Ford glanced at Stan and bit his lip. "My Muse," he said, matter-of-factly, "And I do not wish to speak to you about... What did you do to my house?!"
There was merchandise everywhere across the gift store floor. Ford gaped at all the damage the gravity anomalies had caused, and at the toys and other things Stan had filled that room with.
"Would now be a good time to tell you about the Mystery Shack?" Stan asked, wincing as Ford crinkled the pieces of paper Mabel had given him in his hands slightly.
"You can when I finish this." Ford said, and cleared his throat. "Do I sound Government-y enough?" He asked, lowering his his voice and holding a hand up to the opposite side of his chest.
"That's perfect." Stan said with a laugh, "Good luck."
Ford nodded, and stepped towards the door. "Stand down gentlemen." He said, just before he closed the door behind him. Stan watched him explain the 'misinformation' to Powers and Trigger, and couldn't help but grin when he saw all the agents drive away.
He didn't even notice the presence of Dipper and Mabel until they already left.
"Great uncle Stanford that was amazing!" Mabel cried, rushing up to him. Ford smiled and knelt down in front of her, accepting a sticker that she stuck on his face. "Thank you Mabel." He said, tapping the star that read "Hey now, I'm an all star", "But please, call me Uncle Ford. I'm not old enough to be anyone's great uncle."
"Sure Uncle Ford." Dipper said, bouncing slightly, "Now... Do you mind if I ask you a couple billion questions about Gravity Falls?"
"Um..." Ford said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Maybe later? I have a few conversations to hold before I can... How about tomorrow?"
Dipper nodded. This would be the perfect time to think of questions!
Ford and Stan watched the two younger twins rush out of the room, only after Dipper had respectfully given Ford the third Journal. Ford held on tightly to the book, and turned to Stan.
"I must say," the older man said, clapping a hand on Ford's shoulder, "You're handling this pretty well after all that's happened to you today."
"Thank you." Ford said, leading the two of them towards the kitchen, "I'm screaming internally though..."
"Yeah, I bet you are." Stan said with a chuckle, and Ford nodded. "I couldn't do anything like that in front of Dipper and Mabel. Did you see how Dipper looked at me?" He puffed his chest out, and held his Journal across it, "It was like he thought I was a superhero. I could probably get away with murder in front of him!"
Stan whacked the back of Ford's head. "Okay okay," his brother said, flicking Stan's hand away. "Maybe maiming, but still..."
When they reached the kitchen Stan asked Ford if he wanted coffee, which he did, and the two of them sat in awkward silence for a moment before Ford cracked the Journal open.
"Let's see..." He said, flipping the pages over to the right, getting closer to the beginning. "Ah, here's the portal instructions..."
He flipped to the next page, and his eyes widened. Stan watched him silently as his eyes scanned the words he'd never gotten the chance to write.
"Stan... Tell me I'm dreaming..." Ford said, then he gasped loudly.
"My Muse..." He whispered, his fingers tracing the indents that had been made by a pen pushing too hard on it. "Was a monster?"
He turned to the next page and read the words aloud. "Bill... Can't be trusted..." He breathed. "This can't be real... No it..."
He looked up at Stan. His eyes narrowed, "Stanley... Tell me... This isn't real. Right?"
Stan didn't know what to say.
"How is this real? How?"
Fiddleford was used to Ford's latest obsession. Sure if was a bit odd that almost everything he owned had a triangle on it. Sure it kind of creeped him out whenever Stanford meditated. Sure he didn't want to think that his best friend was wrapped up in some kind of Illuminati cult... That was normal...
No. No it wasn't.
Fiddleford felt like slapping himself for not seeing it before. He'd always been overprotective of his family, and Ford was like another brother to him. How had he not seen the things that were happening to his best friend? How had he not put two and two together?
He leaned against the sink in his tiny bathroom. He stared into the mirror at his own reflection. He had done the same action the night before, when he was contemplating going to the test or not. He had worked so hard, just for Ford to throw it all away. Just for Ford to say he thought that his plan was stupid, just like he had thought about everything else Fiddleford was interested in.
If it didn't matter to Stanford, it didn't matter at all.
What would Fiddleford had given to have Ford say he wanted the machine destroyed two days ago? What kind of force dealt out this horrible fate? Why was Ford so complicated? Why was Fiddleford so trusting?
But this wasn't the same Stanford. This one had seen things no man should have. He was like Atlas, carrying the sky on his shoulders. How long would it be before he broke? He already showed signs of cracking.
"How is this real?" He asked himself again. "How is this real?"
He had no idea.
Ford tried to sleep that night.
He stared up at the ceiling, the wooden boards above him made him feel like he was in a dream. Was it possible that he was back? Back in the place that he had built. Back at his house. His home? Could he fix all of his mistakes this time? Could he stop Bill?
He glanced over at his Journal, lying on it's usual spot in his room. After rereading most of the third one he had realized how insensitive he must have sounded to poor Fiddleford earlier. Had he literally just echoed himself? He tried to close his eyes to get some sleep, but Bill's laugh would ring through his head any time he even got close to unconsciousness.
Stanford's life seemed to be filled with regrets. A million lives had been jeopardized... No, billions of lives had been threatened by his mistakes. And yet this one... This one life was the life he cared about?
His mind drifted to Stanley. He was living in some dump, running from the law, growing a mullet. How could Ford even talk to him? Knowing what he had done in his own dimension? How could Ford fix everything?
"How am I going to pull this off?" He whispered into the cold night air.
Silence was what he received.
Ford couldn't sleep that night.
He sat on his bed in Soos' break room and held his head in his hands. His parallel self's Journal lying open in front of him.
"My Muse was a Monster... Bill is a monster... My Muse..."
He felt like crying, and screaming, and ripping his hair and pages of his Journal out. Bill had tricked him. Bill was never out for Ford's benefit. Bill wanted to... What did Bill want?
Ford wanted to talk to him. He wanted to ask if what he had read was the truth. But he knew he couldn't trust him. Not anymore.
Stanley had handed him the key to his room, said something about how the kids fought over it once. He showed Ford how to use the mini refrigerator that Soos had put in. The things people could make in just thirty years.
But none of that mattered. What did matter was that Bill wasn't the person Ford had thought he was. He had been betrayed, again. Was it true that he should trust no one? Could it be that that was the case?
No. He could trust the kids. They had already accepted him into their fold. Mabel already had plans to show him off to her friends. Dipper was going to ask him questions, because he liked what Ford had written.
He could trust Stan. This Stan wasn't the one he'd last seen. This Stan wouldn't... This Stan... Wasn't his Stan.
He'd tried to get over it. He'd tried distracting himself. Even after years of near solitude Ford still had trouble living just by himself... He hated to admit it, but it was still the case.
His house was so different. His brother was so different. His life was so different... Oh goodness. He couldn't sleep! Bill could possess him!
He flipped through the pages of the Journal, scanning the neat handwriting that covered them. Old dried blood was on them, and an account of weeks of paranoia made Ford sick to his stomach.
"How am I going to pull this off?" He asked himself, and the sound of the door creaking answered him.
Stan stared at his brother's door.
Should he try to talk to Ford? Was Ford even Ford? What had just happened?
Ford had been reading his Journal, then he just freaked out. He had taken his coffee, asked Stan if he was dreaming, then locked himself in his room. What was so wrong with his Journal? What could have terrified him that much? Did Stan even want to know? What was the difference between the two Fords?
This Ford definitely wasn't the one Stan had shoved through, but this Ford also didn't seem to mind Stan's presence in his life. In fact, Stan was pretty sure he'd seen a hopeful look in the young man's eyes when he told him who he was.
Ford had missed Stan, but something had gone wrong.
What was it? What had scared Ford? Could Stan even help?
He pushed slightly against the door, not expecting it to swing open, yet it did. Ford glanced up, his expression full of fear and concern. There was something wrong.
"Stanley." He said quietly, "Is there something wrong?"
He shut the Journal, and Stan caught the briefest glance at a drawing of a triangle. Stan shook his head, "Just checking up on you... It's about eleven..."
Ford nodded, then patted on the couch next to him, "Have a seat. I need to discuss something with you. Anyone really, and since you're here..."
Stan walked over, and watched Ford fiddle with the monocle attached to the book he was holding. "Stan... You've been betrayed before, right?"
A dozen memories flashed in Stan's mind, two specifically, and he nodded.
"How did you handle it?" Ford asked, looking over at the older man, he looked like he might cry. His expression made Stan wince. Yup, there was something wrong.
"Um... Not the way Mabel would tell you to." Stan admitted, "I'd ask her for actual advise."
Ford nodded, then looked back down at the Journal. "Yeah, sounds good..." He took a steadying breath, then asked quietly, "Stan... Do you have any idea what it was like being the smart twin?"
Stan blinked, and shook his head. Ford sighed, and traced the edges of the book. "You told me once that you hated being the stupid twin. That you wished that Dad would look at you the way he looked at me." He squeezed his eyes shut, then he added, "You were wrong. He never looked at me like how you thought he did."
He blinked his eyes open, then clenched the Journal tightly. "Once A-pluses were the norm I had to get them. If I got just an A, or, heaven forbid, a B, I obviously was slacking off, I shouldn't be spending so much time with you...
"Do you know what he said to me at my college graduation? After I had put Backupsmore on the map? He said to me, about my PHDs, "Only twelve?" Everyone else was proud of me. Everyone was happy that I had succeeded. Everyone... Except Dad."
Ford looked over at Stan, his brow furrowed, "Nothing you could have done would have been enough. You could have come home a billionaire, but he wouldn't have cared. As long as you weren't the best, you didn't matter.
"Now look at me. I'm trapped in a new Dimension. I have failed in my success. I became a paranormal researcher in part just to spite him. Now here I am."
He sighed, and swallowed deeply, "I trusted the wrong person. The one person I thought I could count on turned out to be a... A monster."
Stan bit his lip, then put an arm around Ford. "Hey, I'm not exactly a saint, but I don't think I qualify as a..." He stopped when Ford shot him a pained expression, then opened the Journal to his bookmarked page.
Stan's eyes widened when he saw the deep black etchings. Oh man...
Early the next morning, Fiddleford was back at Ford's house.
The older man had already brewed a cup of coffee, and seemed genuinely pleased to see Fiddleford. But his joy was short lived when Fiddleford said, "I came to tell you... I can't let you destroy the portal "
Ford's face fell, and he nodded.
"Stanford's like my brother," Fiddleford said, sitting down across the table from Ford, "I can't just leave him there."
"Fiddleford," Ford's said, his eyes angry, even though his voice was calm. "Let me reiterate. Stanford is in the Nightmare Realm. Bill is in the Nightmare Realm. If we open it to get him back, Bill will come out as well, then Weirdmageddon will follow."
Fiddleford crumpled slightly, he squeezed his eyes shut and readjusted his glasses. "I... I know, but I can't just leave him..."
"Fiddleford, I was only a handful of months older than him when I started my intergalactic journey." Ford said, sliding a cup of coffee over to the younger man, "He will be fine. In fact, once he visits Dimension 52, well, any Dimension that can tell him a bit about Bill, he will thank you for not restarting it."
Fiddleford glared down at the white mug in front of him. "He'll really be okay?" He asked, not even looking at Stanford.
"Yes. He will." Ford said with absolute confidence in his statement.
"Fine." Fiddleford said, grabbing the cup with both hands. "On one condition."
Ford nodded and raised an eyebrow, "Name it." He said, and watched Fiddleford take a sip of his coffee.
"You contact that brother of yours. Get him outta that dump. I want to meet him."
Ford opened his mouth to protest, but an old memory of Stanley flashed in his mind. He had been living in Dead End Flats... And he did have a mullet. Ford simultaneously wanted to shut down the proposition, but rereading his Journal had opened his eyes to how often he did that to his friend.
He sighed, and reached his hand out to his young friend. "Deal." He said, and Fiddleford shook it. "I'll call my mother immediately."
Oh man...
"You take that back, you overgrown marshmallow!"
Mabel was super stoked that her uncle had offered to take her to go on an adventure. She was even more excited about what the adventure was for. Unicorn hair! Unicorns were real! And they were jerks.
Ford had waited outside while Mabel, Candy, and Grenda had all gone into Celestabellabethabelle's 'realm of enchantment'. That was, until the Unicorn had told Mabel that she was unpure-of-heart.
To say that Ford snapped was an understatement. He charged in, brandishing his crossbow (how had he brought a crossbow without Mabel noticing?).
"You!" Celestabellabethabelle said, in her high pitched voice. "What are you doing here?! We banned you you arm-wrestling freak!"
"Huh?" Mabel asked, tilting her head and staring between the angry scientist and the equally upset magical horse ("Unicorn!")
"Oh... You're going down, you judgemental hoofbag!" Ford yelled, pointing the crossbow at the Unicorn's muzzle. That's when all chaos broke loose.
"So you're my brother from another Dimension?"
Sure enough, Stanley looked exactly like he did last time Ford had seen him. His mullet was slightly shorter, and his gut wasn't quite as prominent, but it was his brother.
Ford sighed sadly, and nodded. "Yes. It's a long story."
Stan chuckled nervously, and wiggled on the couch he and Fiddleford were sitting on. Fiddleford had been the one to greet Stanley, and had warned him that his brother wouldn't be the one he was expecting.
Needless to say, Stan had had to sit down once he saw his brother. He had stammered incoherently for a few minutes, then seemed to accept Ford's new weirdness.
To be honest, he was just glad that Ford didn't hate his existence. Ford seemed a bit upset whenever the two of them made eye contact, but Stan could live with that. It wasn't the worst reaction he'd ever received.
Stan sighed, and mumbled, "Well, I got nothin' better to do..."
Ford and Fiddleford shared a glance, then Ford's motioned towards his friend, who began to explain.
"It all started when Stanford called me up, wantin' to build a Transuniversal, Polydimesional, Metavortex..."
"Huh?" Stan asked, tilting his head to one side and sending a pleading look at Ford.
"A portal to another Dimension." Ford clarified, and Stan nodded. "That makes much more sense... Nerd." He whispered under his breath, earning him an exasperated sigh from his brother.
"So I came, and then we got to work. It was fun, at least until about two months ago. To be honest, I don't really remember what started it, but Ford started acting... Weird..."
"I got possessed by a demon." Ford said bluntly, and Stan nodded for a second, before shouting at nearly the top of his lungs, "What?!"
Dipper and Mabel gave Stan tearful hugs. Then it was Ford's turn.
"I'm going to miss you sooo much Uncle Ford!" Mabel cried, wrapping her pink sweater covered arms around his blue ones. Mabel had insisted that everyone wear her goodbye sweaters, and her friends and family happily obliged.
"I'm going to miss you too, you little rapscallion." Ford told her, pushing her gently away from him. "Have fun in the land of constant sunshine."
He rubbed the top of Dipper's hat, and dropped a book bag in his arms. "You'll really, really like this present." He told him. "I'll be finishing up my old one soon. And I happen to own a cloning printer..."
Dipper's mouth opened, and his fingers inched towards the latch on the edge, but stopped once Ford sent him a glare. "Thanks Uncle Ford..." He breathed. "I won't let you down."
"You couldn't, even if you tried." Ford said, flicking Dipper's hat slightly, "Don't forget who saved me from aliens..."
Dipper blushed, "It was nothing... You would have done the same..."
"Yeah, but I'm thirty and you're twelve." He said, with a chuckle. "Have a great school year. If it gets too boring my offer still stands... For both of you."
"Boring?" Mabel asked, shoving a part of her body in between Dipper and Ford, "With me, Dipper, and Waddles? Never!"
Ford rolled his eyes. "Now go before our allergies act up." He said, sniffing slightly. "And you know Stan's and my connection..."
Mabel and Dipper nodded, and gave one last goodbye to all their friends and family. Then they turned around, and stepped into the bus. Ready to leave Gravity Falls.
Ford placed a hand on Stan's shoulder, "As soon as they're gone, wanna go distract ourselves from our crippling sadness by catching a Stomach-faced duck?" He whispered. "I can help you get real attractions. What do you say? Mystery Twins?"
Stan waved his arm at the passing Dipper and Mabel, and whispered back, "Mystery Twins."
Everything would be fine.
Yay!
Happy birthday Stan and Ford... Wait... They're fictional characters... It doesn't matter! Happy birthday to them anyway!
So they're like 80... Right? Either that or a million. They'll never die! We won't let them!
And... The 40th chapter! Yay!
Thank you all so much for everything. TFD, Biancamanda16, kiana1132, annabethchase'sdagger, and everyone else! Thanks for everything! You guys are the best!
I want to thank my mom, who is my mother... Long story. And I want to thank Alex Hirsch, for making this great series. And I want to thank my first brother, who is the Dipper to my Mabel. And I want to thank my other brother's, for putting up with me.. (JK, they love me... Probably.)
Thank you all again! Have a great day!
-BrilliantLight