When you spend almost all of your life waiting to get someone back, you also spend a lot of that time thinking about two things; how they look, and how they'll speak to you.

Stan found out both of those that day at the end of July. And needless to say, it was quite shocking.

He'd spent forty years trying to get his brother back, and yet, from one horrible situation to another it just seemed like he couldn't. If he could go back in time and stop his thirty-year-old self from pushing his brother through... Or, better yet, stop his teenage self from accidentally breaking that oh-so-precious perpetual motion machine, Stan would do it in a heartbeat.

He hadn't really known how to feel when he got the last two Journals, and he didn't know how to feel when the portal started to search for Ford, and he especially didn't know how to feel now...

Because instead of his brother walking out, a golden statue fell, like it had been flung out of the portal, and the life-sized figure dropped with a clang to the floor. The portal gave a small wheeze, then dropped to one side. Where was Ford?

Stan didn't have long to wait for that answer. He stepped towards the statue, answering "I don't know." to Dipper's "What is that doing here?". He came right up to the golden figure, and nearly screamed.

Lying on the ground at Stan's feet, was a perfect replica of Ford, his eyes still as tired as the last time Stan had seen him, his mouth slightly open, palms reaching up towards the sky as if to protect himself from something. Stanford... Was a statue.

Oooookaaay Stan, all you have to do is not freak out. Easy peezy. All we gotta do is not pay attention to the fact that your brother is a statue. A golden statue. Lying on the floor... at your feet... looking terrified. It's fine... This is fine. We'll be okay... Probably.

Stan stared down at Ford's open mouth, looking like the last feeling he'd had before being en-goldened was shock. Stan focused on breathing in and out. What had happened to Ford? What was on the other side of the portal? Who had done this to him?

Suddenly his knees gave out, and he crouched down next to Ford, his hand snaking out and wrapping his fingers around Ford's. He squeezed his eyes shut, not paying the kid's hushed whispers from behind him any attention. He bowed his head forward, and landed it with a 'thunk' on Ford's forehead. "I... I'm sorry Ford." He felt tears welling up in his eyes, but he didn't really care anymore. He felt like he was sixteen again, learning to live on his own.

"I'm sorry Ford... I couldn't save you, and now you're a statue... And I don't know how to make you better." Stan whispered, even though he knew his words fell on deaf ears. "As long as there aren't evil golden statues around here. I don't want you getting decapitated... Again. Well, the last one was a wax-"

Stan cut his sentence off short, he had felt something funny. A puff of air.

His breath hitched in his throat, and he opened his eyes, almost sure that he'd see Ford turning back into flesh and blood. But his hopes were in vain. Ford was still terrified, still frozen, still a statue. And Stan had yet another Ford-based disappointment on his hands. He chalked the air up to the portal, though he swore it was warm like a breath. Must be his imagination acting up.

He gripped Ford's hand a bit tighter, trying to sink his fingers in between his brother's, and was about to return his head to its old position when he felt a small hand on his shoulder. He looked over it and saw Mabel standing there a look of concern in her eyes. She glanced at Ford's face, her own horror building up in her own. "Grunkle Stan?" she whispered, "Who is that?"

Stan released Ford's surprisingly warm hand, and he stretched his arms out towards his niece for a hug, which she accepted wrapping her pink sweater covered arms around him. "He's..." He said, watching Dipper step nearer to the two of them, closely followed by Soos. "He's my brother. The... The Author of the Journals." Dipper's eyes widened, and he stared at Ford, who, unfortunately, was still frozen in his fear.

Mabel gave Stan's sides a squeeze, signifying that she wanted their hug to end, so Stan released her. She turned towards Dipper and Soos, but Stan saw her glance at Ford. Stan knew his twin probably wouldn't enjoy all the attention he was receiving, but Ford also probably didn't even know what was going on.

"The... Author?" Dipper breathed, watching Stan get back to his feet. "Of the Journals... Is my uncle?"

Stan knew he had blown Dipper's mind. He had heard the kid ramble on to himself or Mabel about the Journal ever since that zombie... incident. And Stan knew that Dipper had been obsessing over finding his brother since that very same day. Now Dipper was learning the identity of his idol, someone who was more closely related to him than he'd ever expect, but... Ford was like this...

"Yes." Stan answered, even though he knew it was most likely a rhetorical question. "Your great uncle Stanford." Stan was ready for the twin's (and Soos') reaction, and it... didn't disappoint. As in, their confusion was doubled yet again. Time to dive on in.

Dipper had taken all three Journals after learning their own backstory. Stan had read the first one a couple... hundred times. It was full of... Well, random Gravity Falls nerdy stuff. The kind of things twenty-year-old Ford would be interested in. But the second one was one that Stan had only briefly scanned, plus a couple of pages were missing (but that was true of all three Journals, so Stan didn't think too much of it. Even Ford could make mistakes). So Stan had left it up to Dipper to see if Ford had found anything to help with his present situation.

So Stan was left with figuring out what to do with Ford. His first thought was just leaving his brother where he was. The portal room was still safe since they'd gotten the government agents out of the premises (two words: Memory Ray), but Mabel had convinced him otherwise. They pulled a wheelie-thingy down the hall, and painstakingly got Ford up, and pushed him upstairs, and put him in an unused closet in Soos' breakroom.

Stan sighed after they were done, and watched Mabel rush away with the cart. He looked at Ford's face, still frozen, still heartbreaking. He pulled a chair up to the open door of the closet and sat down on it, looking up at his brother, and placing a hand on the hard golden folds of his jacket. For a moment he sat in silence, then he whispered, "You know, this is actually the second time I've talked to a statue version of you."

He received silence in reply, then he patted Ford with a small 'clang clang'. "It was made outta wax, Mabel's work. I pretended it was you... Yeah. Sad." Stan pretended he didn't feel like crying, but he did. He began to explain the events of that adventure, then that slid into his summer with the kids, then his past thirty years. For the first time in forty years Ford listened to Stan, and he felt like they were teenagers again, just for moment.

"And that's how I got this scar!" Stan said, pulling his sleeve up, revealing a long gash-mark, a smile playing on his face, but dropping for after a second. He looked up at Ford's face again, and he sighed. "You probably got a couple of scars... I mean. If wherever you were was bad enough to turn you into... this...

"I'll save you. With the kids of course. Always with the kids. I don't know what I'd do without them. You'll like them, once you get to know them. Dipper's like if you were reincarnated, and Mabel... Well. Mabel is Mabel. You'll understand soon."

And that's how Dipper and Mabel found Stan an hour later, his head leaning against Ford's side, his eyes shut, talking to his brother. The two of them decided just to let them rest in peace. Stan deserved it.

"I think I figured it out!"

Stan, Mabel, and Dipper were all sitting in the gift shop about a week after the 'incident'. Stan was distracting himself with a newspaper, Mabel was writing a letter to her parents. And Dipper... Was holding a piece of paper high in the air above all three Journals, all wide open to seemingly random pages.

Stan's heart skipped a beat (not something that was good for his sixty-odd-year-old body). "You... You did? What do you have planned?" Stan couldn't help but feel his hopes rise, and fresh hope that this wouldn't be like the last two times filled him as well.

Dipper scanned the pages, then said quickly and excitedly, "So. There's this rock curse. Turns organic matter into stone. And if I just adjust the reversal spell to a metallic base..." He waved his paper, and Stan could see backward words that had been hastily scribbled down in Dipper's excitement. "It just might work! I could save the Author! We could save Grunkle Ford!"

Mabel gave a loud 'whoop' and threw her hands in the air, her feathered pen falling to the ground next to her letter. "That's awesome Dipping-sause! I'm all down for helping you! Finally, I can start wearing gold jewelry again!" She beamed at her brother, whose smile faded, and he muttered something under his breath. Stan pondered about asking him what he had said, but decided against it.

"Let's go try it out then," Stan said, rolling his newspaper up, then he looked down at his attire. "I should probably change first." Dipper and Mabel nodded, and the latter of which had to hide her giggles behind her hand. Needless to say... Stan wasn't exactly wearing his Mr. Mystery suit.

"Let go of me! You insane, three-sided..."

The last thing Ford had seen was Bill Cipher pointing his finger at him while he was trapped in a red glow. Needless to say, Ford's second trip to the Nightmare Realm hadn't gone the way he'd expected. He'd hopped straight into the middle of Bill's circle of friends, and within seconds he'd been overpowered. Not after he'd blasted a few of the other-worldly even for the Multiverse-beings out of existence.

Bill had shown up, laughing at Ford's feeble human attempt to destroy him. Then had promptly destroyed the Quantum Destabilizer, basically all of Ford's plans and future. And, after all that. After all of the sleepless nights, whether because of the fear of possession, nightmares, daymares, studying or planning, Bill had the audacity to offer Ford a place on his team. The audacity to try to make him join him. And, like any rational person, Ford said no.

His maskless face felt funny for the first couple of seconds, then he saw the triangle's finger, and his own fingers turning into solid gold. Then everything went black, and numb, and quiet.

So this is what it's like to be a statue. The only thing that told Ford that he was still awake was his mind. He couldn't see, feel, hear, or touch anything. And it was the worst thing that ever happened to him.

He felt like he was waiting forever. His nose itched, his fingers itched. In fact, everything seemed to itch. It was excruciating, yet painless. It was... boring.

He couldn't move, he could barely think, he almost began to contemplate his own existence, but luckily he'd been through too much trauma in his life to do that. And then... It was over. After what felt like a trillion years (maybe it had been) it was over.

His hands curled into fists, ready to punch anything even resembling Bill in the face. He was expecting the pink and orange swirl of the Nightmare Realm, but was instead greeted by a rather nice looking room. What did Bill have planned?

"What? Where am I? What are you planning Bill-" Ford spun left, then right, in two quick, snappy motions. Then his eyes saw something he'd almost never expected to see again.

A man stood about five feet in front of him, and the man looked almost exactly like him. There was only one person it could be.

"Stanley? What are you... You..." Ford ran a hand through his hair, which (unluckily) felt like it was stuck together slightly, like something sticky had been rubbed into it. Ford knew he must look like a mess, but Stan had most likely seen him as a statue so...

"You're okay!" Were the first words Ford heard Stan say in thirty years. "I can't believe it worked! One second Ford, I have to get the kids."

Kids? Why would Stan have kids?

Ford, more confused than he had been in the Nightmare Realm, watched Stan cross over to the door, and open it, revealing two children, one in a sleeveless vest, and the other in a green sweater. The two of them rushed into the room, and Ford saw that the boy was holding all of his Journals. Why would Stanley let a child have his Journals!?

"Uh... What?"

"Please tell me you're not going to cry again."

Apparently, no matter what universe Ford was in, he would always end up somewhat confused. He had expected to understand at least a little about what happened in his own dimension... But... Fate was proving him wrong again.

His nephew, Dipper, had apparently combined two spells in order to get him back, a feat that had earned Ford's respect. When he told the boy that Dipper fainted, and it had taken him about ten minutes to stop whispering "The Author thinks I'm cool... The Author thinks I'm cool...". Dipper's sister, Mabel, was a whole new can of beans. She had already knit him a sweater, even though he'd only been there about a week. Ford took it anyway. The galaxy print was perfect.

He had been ready to listen to Stan after a long time without stimulus, and Stan had broken down in tears once Ford had admitted he'd missed him. But that had been three days ago, Stan was over it now, right?

Ford should have remembered that Stan didn't just 'get over' stuff. There was no bridge in his 'water under'-ness. Ford had calmly explained why the Mystery Shack was an affront against the entire purpose of the study of the paranormal, and Stan had quipped that Ford just knew that his fake attractions were better than the stuff that was real.

So Ford had come home from a long walk the next day, a Plaidypus egg in tow, along with a picture of a Stomach-faced-duck. "And this is just the tip of the iceberg." He said, carefully handing the egg to his brother. "Keep that safe, my research leads me to believe that there are twins in there."

Stan didn't cry, but he looked close to it. "You're really gonna help me with the shack?" Was what he said instead, and Ford shrugged. "I have to catalog a bunch of this stuff anyway, plus, Dipper won't be able to stay here forever. He and Mabel have decided to go back to Piedmont for the school year, and I need someone to help me out around here."

Stan looked like he'd been given a billion dollars (not a million, remember Gideon), and he carefully placed the egg inside of a vase before throwing himself on his brother, nearly dragging the two of them to the ground. Ford gave a cry of protest, but quieted when he noticed that Stan was just hugging him.

Eh, feeling was feeling. And Ford would rather be hugged than be numb again.

Hello guys! I'm here again!

I've reached Weirdmageddon with my friend, and I was inspired by Xpcveaoqfoxo (aka, Weirdmageddon part 1). I put in my own headcanon-ish on what it's like being a golden statue, basically, it's boring. Really, really boring. Never be a statue people.

Since Ford's been stuck like that for a while, he's had time to 'calm down' from his fight with Bill, also, he just got out of that horrible situation. Thanks Dipper! I'm pretty sure Ford would have some sort of petrifying curse along with the possession one, you know, because Ford.

Anyway, I'm super grateful for all you guys! I know I say that a lot, but I really mean it! You all make my day! Speaking of days, have a great one!

-BrilliantLight