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Ford stepped out of the car, stepping towards the shack with purpose in his stride again. During the ride from the diner, he'd assured Stan that he wouldn't be long. ' I just have to find a few things... Like a suitcase. '
Every room he'd seen had been a mess though, so he didn't quite believe that. Then again, it looked like Ford didn't even really believe himself since he soon told he could wait inside the living room.
"Are you coming?" Ford called back to him from the front porch, having already unlocked the door.
"Uh, yeah. I'm just going to clear some space in the car first. Move some stuff around, you know." Stan assured him.
He nodded his head, before going into the house closing the door after himself.
Stan breathed a sigh of relief, waiting a moment before opening the car door again and flipping his sun visor back down. There, safe and sound, was the slowly aging picture. He carefully peeled off the tape holding it up and took it down.
Ma had snapped a picture of the pair of them before the first boxing class of their last year. Once he saw it, he immediately knew where to put it. The perfect spot for it. Sure, the pair of them kept maybe one or two pictures framed in their room, he could hardly remember now, but he'd wanted this one right in his car.
Boxing hadn't been Ford's thing, honestly. Not that he'd been bad at it, despite what he thought. The times he'd tried hard enough Ford actually packed a good punch. He had no motivation for it though, and got discouraged more times than Stan could even remember. Sometime in middle school he started to shrug and say he just wasn't interested in it. Stan had still liked this photo though, even with Pa looming in the background. It was one of the rare photos with the pair of them as teens where both of them looked genuinely carefree and happy.
He almost tore it down more than a few times, but he'd just flip the sun visor up each time instead. Out of sight, out of mind, right? Speaking of out of sight...
Stan glanced over his shoulder back at the shack and back to his car. "Okay..." He took out the two pieces of marked paper from his coat pocket to fold around the pristine photograph. Leaning back inside the car, he searched it over for a hiding spot. Under a floor mat was too obvious, not to mention dirty. When he pulled up the fur lining in between the back seat and rear window though it made just enough of a flat pocket to slip it into.
He did push everything in his trunk up against one side to make some room before going inside the shack. He could vaguely hear his brother moving around upstairs, stuffing his luggage with whatever. Stan went into the living room to find the couch and...
Huh. Okay, that weird dinosaur skull in an over glorified fish tank was taking up the spot where a couch or a nice recliner should have gone. He went into the kitchen, the complete mess wasn't a surprise. It matched the rest of the house, except this room also several different dirty mugs here and there, as well as at least a couple abandoned pots of coffee. In fact, the freshest thing in here looked like a metal pot on the stove with a shallow inch of some of it left over inside of it. That and and wet clumps of what was definitely a couple handfuls of coffee grounds that had just been thrown into the pot without the luxury of a filter.
The chair was at least clear of anything, and even the table by it had some room. Maybe he'd read a few pages in the journal over again...
Stanley would have loved this.
Mischevious but largely harmless creatures Brownies will often sneak into homes just behind those entering, not dissimilar to when my brother and I sneaked into fairs when we were young.
I wonder how Stanley is doing...
My brother would know how to talk to these creatures. He w as always,
Ford set off looking for everything he'd need. Some basic tools, of course. The welder? Eh, maybe that was a bit much. He'd find a way to manage if he needed it. The soldering iron was an absolute necessity though. Of course, a psophometer and perhaps his Geiger counter as well. There would be the Gotham library, but there were just a few rarer books he could cross reference with... What else?
He had some minor materials from the crash site in one of the bags already. Then as unfortunate as it was, he couldn't really bring the crossbow. He had a couple defensive tools though, including the bat awkwardly stretching out of the large tool bag...Actually...
There was no harm in bringing the crossbow. Besides, better safe than sorry.
He still couldn't shake the feeling that he was forgetting something though. He pushed aside the hanging shirts in the closet to check if something may be behind them at the back of the closet. There had to be- clothes!
Clothes! He hadn't even packed so much as a shirt yet. Ahem , right, yes of course. He was… just saving packing that for last, obviously.
After quickly packing enough clothes, he started down the hallway to find Stan. Murmurs and faded laughter came from the floorboards and walls, nothing new and yet still unnerving. He found Stan in the kitchen, catching the other looking around with a slight crease between his eyebrows. Already though, Stan was looking up towards him before Ford had even said anything.
"Stanley?" Something about the way he searched over everything distinctly picked at the back of his mind.
"Oh, hey."
"Did-" No, no, he wasn't going to ask. A pointless endeavor no matter the answer. "I mean, are you ready to go?"
"Yeah," Stan said, grabbing the journal off of the kitchen table. "Come on, I'll help you with your stuff."
The pair carried bags out to the car, fitting them inside the trunk. Only stopping once briefly when Ford noticed Stan setting the journal down to pick up a couple bags. The idea of leaving the journal behind unguarded with the front door unlocked was unnerving.
"Here," he said holding his hand out towards it, "my coat has a large enough pocket to fit it."
Stan glanced at the journal and back at Ford before grabbing for it off the desk, "sure." He handed it towards him. "So, tell me about why you ended up packing like five bags, again."
The question distracted him from the relief in taking the book back, and he went to set it back in its pocket.
"It's necessary equipment."
He continued to explain while they packed the bags into the trunk, listing out tests he might have to run. He went to lock up the house as Stan started the car.
Ford briefly checked over the inside of the house with the car's running motor adding a finality to it all. Windows closed and locked. Lights off. Front door locked. He walked out the back door, locking that as well then checking the knob for good measure. Turning around, he was faced with a clear view of the forest, his breath frosting out into air and disappearing above him.
Even with everything that had happened and his now heightened caution he still had an immodest adoration with the forest. Nobody would see him stopping here to watch the woods fill up with snow. He could allow himself this, if only for just half a minute...
Stan tiredly scrubbed at his face with the heels of his hands. Thankfully the car was just starting to actually push out some warm air at him. The AC might not work, but the heating sure did. It almost made him want to take a nap. He could keep going though, maybe see about grabbing a cup of coffee somewhere. Eventually, he saw Ford walking back from around the shack.
"Alright," his twin said distractedly, getting into the car and letting in a freezing blast of wind that made Stan cringe.
He forced down the a shudder and nodded his head. "Alright." Stan pulled the stick into drive and went off, half checking Ford's face. He knew overwhelming relief would have been too much to expect, but the conflicted and almost forlorn expression wasn't really that comforting. He drove through town, spotting something with a smile. Bingo. "Hey, I don't know about you, but some pep wouldn't hurt me and industrial strength-"
"-No."
Ford had hurriedly cut him off, causing Stan to look over and see him quickly trying to play it off. "I mean, ah, no. No coffee for me. I don't need it right now."
"Okay," Stan said slowly, he glanced at the upcoming diner with its oddly mellow sign. There had to be something about this diner... "Well, I'm gonna need something to stay awake, so I'm gonna just grab a cup real quick." Upon getting no immediate protest, he turned into the parking lot and stopped the car. "Want anything?" He offered, glancing at Ford.
"I'm really fine." He was uneasily eyeing the people inside the diner, and shook his head, answering without looking over.
"Alright, I'll just leave the car running then." He got out of the car, briskly walking through the cold and into the diner. He only glanced back once he was inside.
Maybe he should have kept driving until he saw something else, but honestly whatever harm could be in a small diner like this he was sure he could get out of easy enough. A quick glance around showed him that it was a pretty mild scene with only a few customers, rustic being the most dangerous aspect about them.
He really couldn't help being suspicious with how quickly Ford had refused. It wasn't exactly like Ford hated coffee with a dying passion or anything, his kitchen was more than proof enough against that. Not to mention, he'd never actually had a chance to say 'coffee' before Ford had cut him off. Considering there wasn't a whole lot of signs for industrial strength literally-anything-else it was safe to say that Ford was familiar with at least the coffee here.
Stan would get a cup, and, well- honestly, he hadn't thought so far ahead with this. Ford was covering something up though, that was certain. What he wasn't telling him - well that was just the featured question of the day. And yesterday.
He didn't really know what he was expecting to find in the diner though, but the completely normal scene was almost disappointing. With the way Ford had been acting, he was expecting something sinister.
The ordinary atmosphere wasn't even creepily cheery or normal like in a horror movie. It was just like any other small diner he'd been at... which made him just the slightest bit suspicious because something had to be up. Maybe he could strike something talking to the waitress, besides, he did actually want some strong coffee so he went towards the counter. Not bothering with a seat, he rested his elbows on the high table and the worker behind immediately greeted him.
"Something to-go, hun?"
"Uh, yeah. Could I get some of that industrial strength coffee?" A split second thought. "Actually make it two cups with some cream and sugar."
"Got a lot on your plate today?"
Stan let out a breath of air. "You know it." As he handed over the money to pay, the cashier, stared a bit at his face, and he instantly took the opportunity. "Do I got something on my face?"
"No, you just look kinda familiar." She said, looking his face over. "You wouldn't happen to have a brother would ya?"
"Yeah, actually." He silently rejoiced, playing it cool on the surface. "I'm guessing you've seen him around here before?"
The women made a short laugh as she handed him his change. "Oh yeah, you bet'cha. He was a regular up until a little while ago." She turned around to pour the coffee. "You getting yourself and him a cup?"
"No, I just know I'm gonna need the second one. I haven't seen 'im yet." The lie came out naturally. Thinking about it now, he didn't really see what the harm of the truth would have been. They were leaving town anyways, not like they would be around long enough for any consequences. Whatever consequences you could get from the 20-something diner worker.
She laughed softly under her breath. "Well, be careful." She told him over her shoulder.
"Why's that?"
"Last time we saw him he was a real basket case." She waved a hand over towards some table. "Made a real scene, he yelled something crazy and ran out the door. Haven't seen him since." She turned around and handed him the two cheap styrofoam cups of coffee. "You're gonna need both of these."
"What'd he say?" Stan asked, taking the coffee without taking his eyes off of her face.
"'Get out of my head.'"
What. The. Hell.
The cashier smiled pitifully at the expression on his face. "Like I said, crazy. If it helps any, he was probably just keeping himself up for too long. The amount of times he was drinking this coffee... Trust me, he's had to have gotten better sleep since without all this caffeine."
God, was she off the mark. "Thanks," Stan said, giving her a smile. "Yeah, he uh, he's always been kind of a workaholic, honestly."
"Well, if you see him make sure he's sleeping. Take care now."
"You too," Stan said, taking the coffee and walking back out into the car.
Ford looked between Stan and the inside of the diner again, trying to seem calm. "You didn't say where you were going, right?"
"No," he said, setting the two cups into the cup holders, "that's mine and then that one's for whoever wants it first." Stan told him.
Ford nodded his head, looking back from the diner and back down at the coffee.
Stan took a sip from his cup an-Oh, God, that's strong. Like explosion-blasting-a-hole-through-a-stone-wall strong. Industrial strength was not just a pretty name. He pulled the car through its spot and back onto the road. "Forty hours of driving here we go."
He was fully awake from the cup he'd had and it took a whole lot less time than he thought it would for both of them to go silent. Actually, neither of them had really said anything apart from just impersonal questions about stops. This wasn't as surreal as it had originally been, but then again he'd never driven this far back in high school. Ford seemed content with watching the scenery go by, and honestly, he felt pretty content himself. Even with the whole freaky 'get out of my head' thing he'd heard about an hour ago.
It was at least calm right now, and you know what? He was getting Ford away from whatever crazy stuff was going on in Gravity Falls.
... He was. Right? Sure, Gotham wasn't great, but whatever all this was wouldn't follow him that far. Well, he guess it could- gah, he just wasn't going to dwell on the 'what-if's right now. Everything would make more sense after a little bit of time.
Still, this was kind of... nice? Boring? Eh, both.
It was kind of both. It was good to at least see Ford still conscious and less jumpy than when he'd first opened the door. His eyes were drawn over to his brother, but he pulled them back onto the road again.
The first half hour in the car he actually liked how Ford stopped looking outright suspicious of everything he saw, even if 'peaceful' was still far from describing him. Now though... no matter how many times he'd seen him it was the same. Some bone deep worry in his set eyebrows. Frankly, it reminded him of one of his own rock bottom moments. One of the really bad ones. The ones when he had gone through all the dirty and had been digging right through the bedrock itself.
Stan internally cringed. He'd spent a while, looking over his shoulder for one of Rico's goons. Even made a couple close calls once or twice during his run.
It had made him too suspicious to actually try selling any merchandise, even with a new identity. It was scraping by while running and hiding with no idea what towns would be safe or not. He'd tried playing it by ear and yeesh.
He had looked about as good as Ford did right now, minus the nerdy glasses.
Although he did have the mullet so it evened out, he guessed. Everything else unnervingly matched up though.
The expression, the chin well past a 5 o'clock shadow, and the messy- well the messy everything. Personally, he'd only managed to actually relax once he'd gotten to West Virginia. Enough to where he stopped going to sleep with a bat in his hands. Really nice place to drive through too.
He turned on the music to keep himself from backtracking into his thoughts again.
Hours later, he could feel himself tiring out and running down. He was actually a bit surprised by how far that first cup of that coffee had kept him going, but now he was yawning and it didn't help that it was turning dark.
"Are you tired?" Ford spoke up, looking over at him, the first time he'd really talked since they'd started this road trip.
Stan chuckled. "Yeah, I didn't get my usual beauty rest, remember?"
"Then let's switch," he suggested surprisingly easily. "I'll drive and you can sleep."
He couldn't help glancing skeptically over at him.
"What?"
"No offense, but… do you think you're actually okay to drive."
"Why wouldn't I be?"
Stan's lips pressed into a thin line to keep himself from saying anything. Maybe because just yesterday you looked like you were winning the world record for longest gone without sleep AND most paranoid nerd.
He let out a breath, and started to slow down, pulling over. He fully looked over to Ford, already having half an idea that Ford driving might not go well, then another half idea saying he probably wouldn't exactly be up for taking a night to sleep. "Do you actually want to drive?"
Ford nodded his head.
Another breath, and Stan silently opened up his car door. Ford followed suit and the pair switched sides. "Just you know, uhh, be careful." He nervously tapped his fingers on the dashboard. "Seriously," he added.
"Okay..." Ford responded slowly, looking over at him, confused.
"I've had this car for years." Stan told him, trying to explain. This car had survived more than its fair share of danger, and gotten him out of more than one death trap.
Ford smiled slightly. "I know, Stan. I remember when you got it." Then he glanced towards the backseat. "Are you sure you want to sit up here? It'd be easier in the backseat."
Stan shook his head, relaxing back into the seat. "Nah, legs get all cramped up if you sleep in the back seat, trust me. Besides, I want to make sure you're not gonna crash El Diablo before I actually take a snooze."
He hummed, and focused, a bit intently, as he started to drive the car, bringing it back onto the road again and getting back up to speed. "No crashing." He said after a moment of driving steadily.
Stan couldn't help feeling a bit uneasy even still, but this wasn't exactly a hard drive. A yawn worked its way out of his throat, and he tried to let the underlying worries go. "Okay, I hear ya," He pulled up a lever, reclining his seat all the way back and stretched out his legs.
Hey, this was a lot nicer on the passenger side.
Mentally, he scoffed to himself, only took me fourteen or fifteen years to realize. He could already feel himself close to slipping away under the lull of the ride, closing his eyes. "If you start getting tired, wake me up though, we can pull over somewhere."
"Right." Came Ford's reply. "No worries."
In all honesty, he already felt gone, but he hummed back in some acknowledgement before he let himself fall asleep.
He'd made it through the final border, land of the free and home bound. Except he wasn't as homebound as he thought he'd feel by this point. Rico probably had guys hounding after him right now, and the more distance between him and them the better.
Stan hopped onto the highway, zooming away in the middle of the night with no regards for whatever the speed limit might be. He looked over his rear view mirror at least every five seconds, convinced this would be the time he'd see a shimmer of light. Finally, after an hour or so of tense driving he realized that speeding away like the flash wasn't exactly inconspicuous. He forced himself to slow down, uncurling his fingers from around the wheel.
The huge green sign ahead caught his attention. I-10 in 10 miles, Right lane eastbound. Left lane westbound.
West was the place to go, he immediately thought.
He got into the left lane, not bothering with the turn signal. "No Colombian contacts in Oregon," he noted to himself, the last two words dying out on his tongue. He'd only been through the state once, just passed through, but that was before Ford had moved...
5 miles.
Stan's hand flexed around the wheel, as he thought. Best state to go to, just short of maybe Idaho. He'd already been around in the Northeast, so the next farthest place inside the country was Oregon. Washington wasn't absolutely out, but he'd still stayed there before.
3 miles.
... His best option with Rico on his tail.
1 mile.
..
Lights lit up the large green sign and he could see the two lanes ahead splitting apart up ahead.
... If worst came to worst then maybe this time he could ask Ford for-
"Nope."
He suddenly switched lanes. "No, nuh-uh, no way."
He wasn't going to do it.
He almost called him once years ago, and he wasn't going to let himself sink that low again. It didn't matter if the damn FBI wanted him, as long as he didn't come to a point where he needed to call his brother then he hadn't gotten that low.
The car glided away, going east. Stan didn't know where he'd go. Hell, not like he really had had an idea going West either, but at least this way he wouldn't have to think about how easy it'd be to just stop by and- do what?
"What would I even do anyways?!" Stan asked himself, throwing out an arm and continuing to himself sarcastically.
"Oh, hey, it's been a while. Just thought I'd swing by and check in and oh by the way if someone comes by and asks for me you didn't see me."
He scoffed to himself. "Stupid..."
No, he just had to keep going, get enough distance and he'd be safe. A state away outta do it.
353 Miles to Houston.
He drove, tired from his already long journey, but he only had just a bit longer.
300 Miles to Houston
He was fine. He even felt calm, nobody was right on his tail after all.
157 Miles... to Houston.
A nap was tempting though... just a ten minute one wouldn't hurt. He'd just take ten or fifteen minutes... but he had told enough lies to know a convincing one even coming from himself.
112 Miles...o... H...ouston.
He was jerking awake at the wheel, over and over, constantly on the lookout for mile markers.
...110 Mils to-
Stan pulled off an exit to a gas station, luckily with enough money in his car to fill it up. He went inside to the bathroom, and stuck his head under the faucet entirely and turned it on, cold water running over his hair and face. He couldn't stop at a motel yet though. Too close to the border. He had to keep going before he could sleep.
Walking back through the cold woke him up enough, the harsh wind freezing his still wet face.
109 Miles to Houston.
Even as the numbers dwindled down, he knew he had to go past Houston. A big city so close to the border was too dangerous.
30 Miles to Houston
He has music to keep him awake and miles to go before he sleeps.
And miles to get before he sleeps.
Stan could recognize the sound of driving through the haze of sleep. Laying down in a running car almost woke him up entirely. He blearily blinked and the light made him shut his eyes tight again, putting his face down the sudden, oncoming stress going before he even recognized it.
It was sunny, good, okay good. That's right... Ford was driving. He let himself settle back into the faded comfort of a lingering sleep. He was fine.
...
Again, he felt himself waking up, a moving car, but the light was easily noticeable through his eyelids. He stretched out comfortably, settling back again. Man, it had to be bright out...
Wait.
Stan opened his eyes, and pushed himself up from the seat, looking over at Ford and the road ahead which just blurred into gray. He rubbed at his eyes, and focused his eyes. Empty fields with brittle stalks cut bare inches above the ground on either side of them.
Ford glanced over at him. "Don't worry, you've only missed about 5 hours or so of fields," he told him blandly.
"What time is it?"
"A little after ten."
"Did- Have you been driving this whole time?" Stan asked incredulously.
"Of course not," he told him, "I had to stop for gas a few times."
Stan adjusted his seat upright again, rubbing at his face to wake himself up. "Okay, I think it's time we switched, come on. Pull over when you get a chance."
Ford looked to him then pointedly to the rear view mirror. Stan looked behind him to see an empty road that stretched on endlessly into the horizon, rows of raised dirt on either side uninterrupted as far as he could see.
"Oh."
"Yeah."
Stan looked at the road ahead of them as Ford pulled over, seeing a mirroring site, barren fields and a smudge that could possibly be a barn being the most interesting thing in site.
"Nebraska?"
"Yeah." Ford answered, stepping out of the car.
The two switched sides, Stan settling back into the driver's seat. Ford, meanwhile, slumped back into his seat looking up at the roof of the car.
"You okay?" Stan asked, looking over at him, eyebrows pulling together, more confused than actually worried.
Ford took a deep breath. "I'm fine, it's just these fields."
Stan drove off, "Yeah, well you can take a nap through this if you want."
"No, thank you."
"You do know you just drove 14 hours straight, right?"
"No, I drove 9 hours on curving roads then 5 hours straight without so much as turning the wheel a fraction of a degree."
"Do you really hate farms that much?"
"I just don't like the flat landscape," he muttered. Then he pointed up to the roof above Stan's head. "What is that from?"
Stan glanced up and spotted the outline of where he used to keep his banned states map, now folded up in the glove compartment. Shit. Ford could open that at any point. It was a ticking time bomb.
"Uhh, I used to keep my state maps up there before I just decided to get rid of them." If you changed the wording around a little, it wasn't a lie.
"Ah," Ford nodded understandingly, looking back across the disappointing scenery, that being the end of that apparently.
Gratefully, he took a quiet breath. "Seriously though, why don't you take a nap," he suggested again.
"Multiple reasons," Ford replied, "for one though, I need to keep an eye out for hiding spots."
At that Stan raised an eyebrow. Was he honestly looking for places to hide wherever they were, just in case. "Okay?" He said slowly.
"Hiding my research," Ford clarified only briefly looking back to Stan.
"Oh! Oh, right. So uhh, what qualifies as a good hiding spot? Because if you ask me," he waved a hand out around them indicating the corn fields.
"God, no. Not here. Whenever the farmer goes to harvest or plant they'll see the fresh dirt. Besides, at that, it could get dug up by a plowing machine." He cringed as he clearly thought about it. "Too many possibilities."
"Alright, so what's it gotta be then?"
"It can't be close to any big city. Isolated from any city, really. Somewhere there won't be any construction or landscaping. No rivers, and preferably not a lake either. And... somewhere identifiable."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that if I wanted to that I could find it again. Which means this," he gestured out the window, "is a bad spot for several reasons."
"So, what kinda place are you thinking?"
Ford frowned. "I don't know..."
"Well, I'll get us out of corn country first and then let's stop at a gas station for food and fuel."
"... Alright."
Even though neither one of them said anything, there was a rush of relief from the both of them once they had made it past the majority of the fields and unbending highway.
Evidently neither of them enjoyed the straight roads.
They stopped at one of the first gas stations they saw. It wasn't the absolute cleanest place, but it wasn't awful and besides there was even hot food inside. Hot dogs weren't exactly breakfast material, but it was heated and definitely part of the better half of gas station food Stan had sampled over the years.
The two stood beside the Stanley Mobile, the only other people were otherwise inside their cars or inside handing bills to the cashier.
"Halfway there," Stan noted.
"Right," Ford replied absently, cautiously watching the various people around them, already having eaten his food.
Stan looked over his brother for a moment. He'd really expected Ford to be... he didn't know, calmer? Which sure he didn't seem nearly as bad as before, but the way he wouldn't stop watching people…
The other looked back at him, catching his brother staring. "What?"
He shrugged, looking away. "Nothing. Just wondering why you're eyeing up some family getting their kids candy bars."
"I know your eyesight isn't the best, but those are sodas, Stanley."
He rolled his eyes, looking up to the sky briefly. "Point is, I don't think you need to worry about some random Nebraskan people after you. We're a long ways away from Oregon." Stan pointed out, before taking a bite. "Also, we're past the whole Children of the Corn thing now." He said, indicating the way they'd come from.
"You don't know what these people could be like."
Stan looked at him skeptically. "Look, all I'm saying is that whatever was going on in Oregon is miles and miles behind you."
Ford smiled ruefully at that, then a visible shiver ran up his spine, "ugh."
"Cold chill?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
"More like a hot flash, really."
Stan snorted. "What are you? Some 60 year old?" He teased through a muffled mouthful, before finishing his last bite and pulling out his car keys. "Come on, we'll find a place to stash that brick, don't worry." Maybe, Ford would finally relax once that book was actually hidden.
His brother readily got into the passenger side of the car, still casting a suspicious glance towards the Nebraskan family now walking out towards their car. Stan drove off, rolling his eyes.
The two quickly lapsed into silence again, going on like that for a few hours. As they were getting close to the state borderline though, Ford suddenly pointed at a small sign, "There!"
"A bead conversation area?" He asked, squinting at the sign.
"What? No. A conservation area. The Lower Hamburg Bend Conservation Area. It's perfect. Nobody will be disturbing the ground for projects there."
Stan scratched at his jaw. "... Isn't it illegal to dig in those places?"
"Exactly! Secluded too, that's why it's perfect."
He snorted, smiling slightly. Talk about missing the point.
"What?" Ford asked, looking back over to him.
Stan waved a hand, "nothing. Don't sweat it. Sounds like a plan." He could see Ford looking at him from his peripheral vision, but he didn't say anything. Eventually he settled back in his seat again, falling into an odd silence Stan couldn't identify. He decided to just drive to the place and leave it be. Thankfully, in the middle of the day it was easy enough to find. He drove onto a worn path, stopping at where it seemed to let into a small graveled parking area between the woods and frozen lake. Before he could even say anything, Ford was opening the car door, asking him to pop the trunk.
He took a breath, stepping out of the car and coming round with his keys to the back with Ford. Opening it, Ford immediately went to pull a hard box case out along with a shovel, a determined look on his face.
"So, where are you putting it?"
Ford turned to his brother, ready to hand over the two items, "Wherever-" bright yellow eyes only a couple feet from his own shook him to his core, his breath catching in his throat. However, in the time he had blinked, Stan's eyes appeared normal again. He was looking at him quizzically even, if a bit concerned. Even still, Ford's heart pumped antifreeze through his body and his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. Bill.
"Just... wherever?" He asked, still keeping up that seemingly sincere expression.
"Somewhere... safe." Ford replied, scanning his brother's face as he lowered the case back down and rested the shovel against the car. It would be easy to grab onto in a moment's notice if needed.
He should have seen this coming, frankly. He couldn't help chastising himself for not thinking of the possibility before they had gotten this far. Miles and miles before they'd stopped at this unfamiliar and abandoned nature conservatory, it should have occurred to him. Wasn't this just perfect too?
Nobody would be looking for Stanford Pines' corpse in a plot of land half way across the country.
How long would it take before somebody even happened upon the suspicious rectangle of freshly upturned dirt? Stanley was surely stronger than him as well. Even if he weren't, he knew his own body had taken a toll from the lack of sleep lately. He also had to unfortunately admit that leaving the town behind had lowered his guard. He'd let himself relax simply because of a change of scenery when the scenery was hardly the problem. No, just because he'd known Bill in Gravity Falls it didn't mean that the demon was limited to the town.
Then all the nightmares that made him expect the worst at the door, always either innocent knocks or splintering bangs against the wooden door. Or hands suddenly clawing through a window to grab him with broken shards slicing through the air.
The worst moment wasn't guaranteed to happen with someone first arriving to the house, logically, but he'd grown to expect just that. The moment passing without harm had given him a false sense of security. How stupid.
Why in the world would Stanley have invited him anywhere with him, anyways?! No, it had just been a ploy to get his guard down enough to make this easy.
Looking at the pieces now, it was all so blatantly obvious. At his home he was too prepared to let something like this happen, so why not coax him somewhere with the promise of plausible answers. How many times was he going to fall for the same damned trick?!
Ford reached into his coat pocket finding the flashlight, and snatched Stan down by the front of his jacket. He flashed the light into one eye, causing Stan to yelp at the action, but- his pupil dilated normally. There was a hot flash of hope, but, still unnerved, he checked Stan's other eye which also showed the same ordinary biological reaction. His grip relented, tense fear leaking out of him and making him want to just fall to his knees in utter relief.
"Agh!" Stan finally pushed Ford away, rubbing at his eyes. "Okay, seriously, Sixer. What's up with that? First time, there was some pushing and pulling with the crossbow, I get that. Now though?" He gestured between the two of them, "Not like I suddenly appeared out of thin air or anything here!"
He quickly rushed to think of a believable lie. "An… eye exam," he answered slowly, "because you're near sighted."
Oh Tesla, that was awful. That was about as believable as naturally occurring yellow snow in the form of messily written first names.
His brother's deadpan reaction confirmed his thoughts. "Really, Stanford?" He asked, giving him a look dry enough to have made a merperson in water thirsty.
Ford folded his hands neatly behind his back, flashlight clicking off in hand, looking aside. "I just ahh…" he trailed off into silence. He had nothing. Even with a second chance he couldn't come up with any believable excuse. He knew Stan was waiting for him to finish the sentence, and after another few seconds he was positive that was the case. "I was mistaken," he finally said, barely glancing to Stan before he went to grab the shovel and metal case.
Stan was shaking his head. "Let me guess-"
"I need to find a hiding spot." Ford cut him off before he could finish. He couldn't tell Stanley the truth, and frankly he didn't have an excuse to brush aside direct questioning.
Stan only scoffed in response to that.
The original plan had been for Stanley to take the journal and hide it. He wasn't even going to see the spot himself, but… Surely, it was truly Stan at this moment.
Still the whole moment had brought back worries and doubts that had settled to the front of his mind. He hesitated to hand the items over now, and he hadn't planned for the possibility of having come out this far himself. Still though, he had put careful consideration into this plan before, it wasn't any less reputable than when he'd thought of it.
'Do you really think you were in the best state before though?'
...No, no that was true.
His earlier judgement probably wasn't a very safe basis to go off of. Even still though, it'd be safer if Stanley alone hid it…
'But you'll never know what he r_e_a_l_l_y did with it.'
The thought buzzed at him. The idea shouldn't have been bothering him as much as it was, but it was and he knew it would continue to do so. If he let Stan take it alone he'd never be fully assured the last of his research was safely hidden.
Besides, it'd be odd to ask Stanley to hide the journal while he stayed behind at the car. He debated for a few moments longer before finally deciding. "I'll hide the journal and be back in no time." Ford assured him.
To his surprise, Stan's face fell slightly at that. "Uh-huh," he said slowly.
Ford look at him curiously.
"You want me to stay behind again." He said plainly.
Oh... Oh. "Uhh..." He thought about it for a moment. "Would you... rather come along?" He asked uncertainly.
"Are you actually offering?"
"Sure?" He shuffled the items under his arm. "I didn't necessarily think you'd want to." In actuality, he'd probably feel slightly better if Stanley stayed behind instead of going with him. It hardly mattered enough to press it though. Besides, this would make up for the incident in the caves, wouldn't it? And maybe even make him forget about the incident with the flashlight that had just happened long enough to keep him from asking about it.
Stan shrugged. "Well it beats sitting and waiting, doesn't it."
"Okay," he looked over, starting to take a few steps. "Then uh, let's find a spot, somewhere on a hill." He didn't want it to get flooded by the river if it rained.
It took a little bit of hiking, but eventually they found a spot Ford deemed suitable. Actually digging the hole proved to be... a bit more difficult than he'd thought. The ground was still partially frozen, and Stan offered to take up the shovel instead, but Ford declined. It took a lot of effort; a lot less than it would have taken Stanley, he assumed; but eventually he'd made a small hole large enough for the overly large case.
Stan picked up the case, handing it over to him as soon as Ford dropped the shovel onto the ground. "Here."
Ford took the case, setting it down and unclasping the locks to open it. It had a metallic casing with a matching interior, more fit to be a toolbox than a capsule. He almost wished he had grabbed some sort of cushion to hold the book inside the case.
It was a silly sentiment though. The journal would go through no more wear than it would sitting inside the metal case as is. He took the book out of his coat, holding it and looking it over, a hand running over the cover.
It had to be hidden, but... he was tempted to flip the pages of the book enough to just have a passing glance at the nostalgic entries, avoiding the middle pages, of course.
These had been his early years in Gravity Falls.
Back when he couldn't go hardly thirty feet without finding something new and extraordinary. Almost every entry had been written after an exhilarating discovery. New creatures and all sorts of oddities that he'd never even dreamed of getting to see himself. There it all was though. Gravity Falls…
Stan coughed uncomfortably, and Ford came back to the present, realizing he'd turn the book around in his hands and was rather close to opening it.
"So uh, burying that thing, huh. Still uh- we're still doing that."
"Yes." He said mechanically as he carefully placed the book inside the capsule and securely closed it. Nothing would be able to get past the seal, not even moisture. The only exclusion were millipedes from Gravity Falls. He was fairly certain they could pass through solid objects.
Picking up the case he set it down into the hole before standing back up and moving the dirt back over top of it. Once he'd finished the dirt had piled up higher than before.
Stan stepped over, starting to press the dirt down and spreading it out so it didn't stand out as much. He hummed softly before singing quietly. The words sounded more spoken than actually sung with an actual tune, "Doop de doop, stepping on frozen dirt. Squishing it down. Not burying evidence."
He almost smiled, now remembering his brother's old habit. "You make this whole thing sound..." he paused, trying to think of the word, "dubious."
Stan had been looking down at the now evenly distributed and flattened dirt, satisfied with it, but hearing Ford he looked over to him. "Well," He said, finally stepping off of the barely noticeable mound, shrugging his shoulders as he looked aside. "Breakin' the law is usually sketchy, right?"
"We didn't-" he paused to think. Trespassing? Well that was hardly breaking the law, really. What was criminal in exploring after all?
"Digging in a conservatory." Stan looked back at him, he pointed out, gesturing to the ground.
"Ah," Ford shifted his grip on the shovel to carry it, exhaustion catching up to him. "Completely harmless, the dirt only moved a few inches."
"And there's no cops around." Stan said with a smile, going to walk beside him.
"I think only rangers come out here, really." Ford noted.
"Mmm, you gotta watch out for those suckers too."
At the next stop, Ford suggested they just eat something at yet another gas station.
"Wouldn't you wanna eat somewhere else? I'm not saying something fancy, but you know - a chance to sit down somewhere that isn't the car."
Ford only shook his head. "The sooner we reach Gotham the better."
He could understand the sentiment, but... after hiding the journal he'd thought his brother would have relaxed.
They started taking shorter turns, driving. A couple hours at a time to make it easier, though after it hit afternoon he suggested that maybe Ford should take a nap. "Maybe later," was the only reply he got.
Once it hit nighttime, he'd thought for sure Ford would fall asleep while he was driving. He'd occasionally glance over at Ford in the darkness, but with side glances he couldn't actually tell if his eyes were open or not. The fingers tapping against his legs was a good enough indicator though.
He really should not have been this tired already. It hadn't been the first time he'd had an all-nighter. Not to mention his recent sleeping habits as of late. Maybe that was actually contributing to it though.
He'd thought catching up on so much sleep would have renewed him entirely, make it a fresh start that he could stay awake through without even needing the help of coffee. He had woken up with a pounding head then hiked to the cave and covered every inch inside of it though. Then digging that hole hours ago...
115 Miles to Columbus
What was the next big city after Columbus? Pittsburgh? He didn't even know. He considered opening up the compartment to look for a map, but remember Stan saying he'd thrown the papers away. Not that he'd even have a map of the whole country anyways. He probably kept maps when he went to a new state, but considering he was back in New Jersey he probably never even picked up a map in the first place.
Ford tapped out his fingers against his leg, doing equations in his head. He could feel himself struggling now, but once it was his chance to drive again he'd be fine. Maybe they'd stop somewhere to fill up and he'd get a couple cups to keep him going until the stop after that. An hour seemed to pass before he allowed himself to check the time.
Not even ten minutes.
It took all of his will to keep in the groan, and he pushed at the button for the air conditioning. After a confused moment he tried to turn the temperature dial to make the air coming out cooler.
"It's broke." Stan told him over the music.
He silently glared at the dials accusingly for a moment. "I see." He said quietly, before starting to roll down the window. It was cold enough outside. He leaned his head over to the window, frigid air blowing across his face.
"Oh my God. Seriously, Ford?!"
He slightly turned his head to look over at Stan. "What?"
"It's already cold enough in a car with barely any heat in the middle of winter, and you open the freaking window? You're gonna turn us into a pair of popsicles!"
Ford considered that for a half moment. Oh, wait. "Would you like my coat to keep warm then?"
Even in the dark he could see Stan balk at that. "No! I'd like for you to close the window. I can't drive with frozen fingers, Ford."
He frowned at that. He... unfortunately had a point. Ford rolled the window back up, still frowning. He was having a hard time focusing even now, though the momentary cold had helped. "Can you pull over at the next stop you see."
"What for?" Stan asked, a tad suspicious.
"I need some coffee." He added a sudden thought, "Besides, it's about time for us to switch."
Stan groaned. "Sixer... I've only been driving for twenty minutes."
"Oh... well that doesn't mean we can't switch, anyways."
Dear. God.
If Stan hadn't been driving he would have slammed his head into his steering wheel. The guy had been over there, nearly falling asleep over and over. He'd hoped a bit each time Ford's fingers had slowed down to a stop that he'd finally fallen asleep this time, but no.
THEN he opened the window sucking out the little heat that HAD been in the car. And now? Oh, NOW he wanted them to switch already.
He pulled the car to the side of the road, out of the way, and stopped it.
"Stanford," he started as calmly as he could, "I know you're tired so why don't you just go to sleep."
"Well," Ford adjusted his glasses before crossing his arms, "I just don't want to sleep walk again. In a car especially."
Sleepwalking. Right. Guy had been acting like an alien trying on a human skin for fun. Honestly, after reading through the journal he could see the whole thing being the work of a fairy or something.
"What's the worst that could happen?" Stan decided to play along at least for that second.
"I could grab the wheel and steer us into a pole." Ford answered without hesitation.
Stan scoffed. "Cause that's gonna happen." He thought for a moment though. Honestly? After the guy had almost pulled the world-end-y lever last night, he wouldn't put it past him. Ford wouldn't, but Ford 'sleepwalking,' he could see it way too easily.
"You know what, fair's fair, I guess. You were really weird last night."
"Yeah..." Ford went into a rather mulled silence.
"You can't be doing the same thing as before though, you have to get some rest eventually."
"You don't understand-"
"Your sleepwalking? Yeah, because we both know that 'sleepwalking' isn't exactly whatever that is." Stan pointed out directly. It was either something supernatural or just really really weird.
Ford looked like he might deny it taking a breath and holding it but with no argument he let it out again. "It's... complicated." He finally said.
He snorted. "I guess walking around possessed is complicated."
He had mostly meant it as a joke, even if it did honestly seem that way. Cursed by fairies was honestly his second theory after that.
There was some explanation, of course. The only ones he could come up with were supernatural ones, but there had to be something else, obviously.
Or obviously not.
As soon as he let the comment out Ford froze up, looking as though Stan had just reached over to wrap his hands around his throat then squeezed.
Stan took in the expression, the suddenly stiff body movement, eyes nervously boring back into his own, everything.
Everything that just screamed he'd hit the nail on the head and far too well, at that.
"Holy shit!" He whispered. His own surprise caused him to be locked like that for a moment before he recognized that he had to do something otherwise they wouldn't move at all.
"Uhhm." He glanced ahead, soon finding the fuel gauge a perfectly reasonable excuse to break eye contact. "So..."
'So, you're possessed by a ghost or something, that's cool.' He shook his head and let out a short laugh trying to defuse the situation, smiling back to Ford.
The other had stopped watching him entirely though, and was instead heavily considering the side of the road, hand flexing on the door handle.
Stan quickly let the first thing he could out before Ford could go out the door. "So, you don't just get on people's nerves, but spirits' too, huh." Wait, wait, damn it! Why would he say that?! Stupid. Way to go, knuckle-
Ford laughed quietly, breaking into a smile, his hand letting go of the handle entirely to put a hand over the side of his face. "I'm not sure he technically qualifies as a spirit."
"What is he then?"
Ford's smile sputtered and fell away, hand dropping back down to his lap. It actually took him a moment, but he finally answered. "He's a dream demon."
"A demon?"
"It's more of a technical term I came up to classify him than anything else."
Stan started slowly, thinking back to how he had dragged the other away from the lever. "So, I'm guessing he was hijacking your body because he wanted to jump start the portal and you didn't."
Something in Ford's expression twitched, but then it was replaced by a suspicious gaze directed at him. "Why do you think that?"
He internally panicked, but shrugged, crossing his arms as his mind worked double time.
"I mean, just adding two and two together." Stan said casually. "Portal's dangerous, and you told me to keep you out from where it was at when you were 'sleepwalking.' Doesn't take a rocket scientist or anything, ya know."
To Stan's immense relief, Ford dropped the sharpness of the gaze. "That's true..."
There was a very awkward silence stretching between them. A million questions crossing Stan's mind. A demon. An actual- okay, well a 'dream' demon he guessed, whatever. Technical term or not, the thing was still literally possessing his brother.
How long had this been going on? He'd think 'demon literally haunting me' would have been noteworthy enough to have mentioned at least once in that journal if it had been going on for that long. At least soured his mood. That or his brother enjoyed being possessed way more than anyone should, which was not at all.
So this must have started somewhere between a week ago and 6 years ago. Ugh. He really didn't have a lot to narrow down that time range with.
Obviously, the whole demon thing had a lot to do with the portal. Ford had probably made the portal and realized it was messed up then that demon showed up. How did they even know each other? Ford probably found him, Stan guessed, chasing after all the different oddities in town.
Then... then this? He wouldn't be that surprised if Ford had practically been advertising his soon to be finished invention to anything capable of understanding speech before talking their ear off with all the mechanics of it. Either way, this thing found out and tried to wreck the world using Ford's machine. Didn't the weirdo mention spending years to make this thing though? Was that an attempt at pretending to be Ford?
Stan thought back to that night Ford had been 'sleepwalking.' It explained how he'd been acting. Talk about creepy...
His eyes suddenly snapped open with a realization as moments sprang out from his memory.
A warm, if stiff, embrace. 'Why, the chance to show my brother what I've got going on downstairs, of course!'
An encouraging tone. 'Hell, I'll even let you pull a lever! Doesn't that sound fun?'
A foolish smile. 'There's no reason to take you downstairs to see the portal, that must have been why I didn't show it to you before.'
A saddened expression, ruined by the lips still turned up at the edges. 'You probably don't even want to see it.'
The whole night hadn't made hardly any sense when he'd thought it'd been Ford. Hell, he'd been so focused trying to see Ford inside that mess and figuring out what was going on that he hadn't noticed the frankly obvious cons. Ford had been keeping himself awake because of that thing, and then that thing went and even tried to get Stan himself to pull the damn lever! He could feel himself burning up inside.
"Have you tried an exorcism?" He asked directly.
"It didn't work." Ford told him bluntly. "A lot did not work."
"So, this thing can just hijack anybody that's asleep?"
Ford had already seemed more than a bit on edge, but the question seemed to make him especially nervous. "He needs a few... qualifications, first," He answered, slowly. "If you know to look out for him then there's no worry besides him simply entering your mind." He looked back over to Stan. "He'll appear as a triangle with an eye."
"What does he do?" Stan asked. Recognizing the guy was helpful, but didn't really tell him much what to avoid.
He opened his mouth and closed it. "Tricks," he said, waving a hand dismissively, only very briefly glancing down to the dashboard evasively. "Lies, etcetera. Just whatever you do, do not take his hand."
"Please."
The word pleadingly slipped out of Ford, the depth of it catching Stan by surprise. Apparently Ford hadn't expected the emotion out of himself either since he quickly continued in a controlled tone of caution.
"I am not sure the full range of his powers, but at the very least possession is very much within his realm. His hand will light up in a blue flame and you absolutely cannot shake it at that point, Stanley." He emphasized strongly, turning towards Stan to look him in the eyes, making his point clear. "No matter what."
His brother's gaze bore down into him, and even under the intensity he could still sense underlying worry.
"I won't. I promise." Stan told him in complete resolve, maintaining the strong eye contact. He smiled then, only half joking. "I'm not exactly interested in anyone besides me controlling my body."
Ford let out a short laugh, a bitter note.
He still had tons of questions, but so much more made sense now. Thank God Ford was easy to read sometimes. Other times a real brick wall, but he'd gotten the lucky read this time. "You're' not planning on staying awake forever, right?"
"No, just as little as possible until I find something to seal myself off from him."
Stan thought about that for a moment. "How about you take a nap? I'll pull over if you start moving."
Ford paused considering it, glancing at the road behind them then back to Stan. "Would you be able to tell the difference?" He asked slowly.
He couldn't help scoffing loudly. "Uh, yeah, I think I'd be able to tell." He started turning the car back onto the road. "Get some sleep, Sixer."
Ford gave him a look, but settled into his spot soon letting himself drift off for the most part. He never quite stayed asleep, and Stan had to stop several times just to be on the safe side.
Finally, they got off the highway, getting onto a road leading into the city. Gotham.
Now this, this was... eugh okay it actually looked a bit grim. What city didn't have an ugly side of town though? Besides, ugly or not this was a fresh start for him!
His problems were miles behind. No drug ring after his hide or nothing. He'd gotten away, mostly scot-free, as always. With it finally behind him and the fear of being found eased under knowledge of more than enough distance he could smile.
Ha, "suckers."
Speaking of which, he bet there were some real grade A ones in this city. A place just teeming with opportunity! Give it a week and he'd be rolling in dough this time, he knew it.
...
A day had passed by, and it wasn't looking good. As was usual with long trips, he was almost out of money. It also didn't help that this had been one of the times when he had escaped prison and THEN ran as far as he could. Definitely wasn't as bad as the time he came back from England though. Sticking around for just enough cash, got a new identity, then jumped on the first plane he could get to America. Left him with almost nothing though.
So-
So, if you thought about it, really, this wasn't all that bad!
He still had three dollars left, and that was more than his post-England trip had left him. About 2 dollars and 95 cents more, counting against the nickel he'd found by the baggage claim.
Still 6 days to turn this around though. Come on, 6 was a lucky number after all, he could do it this time. He would. He would do it.
Frankly, he knew he should have been tamping down on the hope welling up inside him, save himself the pain later on, but he let it stay for now at least. Once he saw one of the university's library he'd make an assessment of his chances of finding anything.
It was one of the larger cities he'd been in. During his studies he'd occasionally go to a summit or present one of his papers at a gathering so this wasn't completely foreign to him.
The woods were still better by- ahem, yes, anyways…
Gotham. It looked maybe a bit dubious, but every city had those parts. As far as cities went it didn't look any different from the others he had seen. It only got marginally worse as Stan drove. Not exceptionally though, and frankly the whole city may have well have been upper class buildings for all it mattered to him. The more people around was what made it dangerous.
Eventually Stanley pulled into a little parking lot beside a cramped apartment complex. Red chipping paint on the outside that had been meant to liven it up now only served to depress and show lack of funds available for the expenses to repaint. There were fire escapes on the side of the tall building though. That was good.
Stan's cough drew his attention, and when Ford looked over he could tell the other was waiting for some reaction.
"What floor are you on?" He asked, focusing back on the building again, making sure to keep himself from falling into any sort of hardened expression.
"The fourth."
"Ah, that's not bad."
"Yeah, I was going to get one of the rooms near the top but then this lady on the fourth over uhh went over the due date on payment, you know."
He nodded his head. "Well, it worked out." And Stanley was obviously not forgetting to pay the bills on time, at least so it seemed since he was still here.
Stan hummed. "Ready to haul your stuff upstairs?"
"The sooner we do that, the sooner I can get to other things." Ford replied. Again, the libraries. He would probably have to find some very old documents for possible spells or wards.
Stan went and opened the trunk, Ford coming around his either side, and he spluttered a half laugh, putting his hand to the side of his smiling face.
"What is it?" Ford questioned.
He gestured towards the crossbow which had wedged itself in between a couple bags. "I forgot you brought the crossbow." Another half laugh. "You're not going to be answering the door with that every time, are you?" He questioned, quietly cracking up.
"I- no, obviously not unless it's necessary." He went to start grabbing a couple bags. "It's a precaution."
Stan was still holding back a smile as he took a few bags as well. "Not the usual precaution city people take."
He rolled his eyes, but made no reply. Maybe the crossbow was a tad overboard, but really he didn't see anything wrong with using it for home protection.
He was pleasantly surprised when Stanley had to pull out a key for the door to enter the apartment building itself. As they went up though, even he noticed that the frequency of Stan's comments were more than simply casual.
"The neighbors are really nice, ya know."
"And the heating actually works- well, yeah, duh. Of course it works. I just thought you might- because it looks like it's an old building, but it's fine, really."
"It's actually one of the newer buildings around here. Bad paint job is all."
"I didn't really feel like moving a ton up these stairs though so not too much furniture, just so you know. But hey, gives you some room for your stuff."
"The rooms are uh, really… functionally laid out."
Stan took a breath, which Ford wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been paying attention, before opening the door to his apartment.
It was a small apartment, but Ford had been expecting that. After all, Stan lived here alo- His observation paused as he realized he hadn't even known if anybody else was living with Stanley. He should have asked that instead of assuming.
He resumed his glean of the room. There was a raggedy couch facing a TV set up on a tiny table. Two doors across the room and a wall divider on his left. Peaking around, he saw a small kitchen present. A counter, some cabinets, sink, refrigerator, stove top. It matched the apartment, must have already been provided with the space.
He moved further in, setting down his bags against the wall. Curiously, he opened the first door on the right. Bathroom, largely unimportant, but it had a lock. Opening the other door, he noticed the window in the bedroom and immediately went over to look out it. He bypassed a closet and a twin sized bed that he hardly noticed. There was possibly a few items scattered on a pile of boxes by the bed, but he wasn't paying attention to any of that. Stan followed after him into the bedroom, standing somewhere back by the door.
As he suspected, outside the window were metal stairs clinging to the brick building. "You've got a fire escape," he noted pleasantly to Stan, glancing back briefly at him. The lock on it caught his eye though... He mentally made a note to purchase a window lock in addition to a couple locks for the door. Or a few... he could feel himself starting to debate between the number and decided to set it aside for later.
Stan laughed lightly. "I wasn't really expecting that from you."
"What were you expecting?" Ford asked, actually looking back at him.
He shrugged. "Ah, something about the couch, I don't know." Scratching at the back of his neck, he added, "You can take half the closet for stuff. I'm only using half of it now anyways."
Ford nodded his head. "Right. I'll worry about unpacking later though."
"Later?"
"Well, I have to go to the library." He pointed out.
And at that Stanley laughed, only then did Ford realized how disingenuous the one before it had been. Well- no, not that, really, but... sad? No, that was the wrong word too. Just a placeholder? He decided that was the best description he could pin down.
The earlier one had just been a placeholder to fill the silence while this one actually had heart behind it.
"Of course, you would." He said with a smile. "Yeah," he let out a breath, "yeah, that actually works out well because I gotta check in with someone. I'll drop you off at one of the libraries on campus."
Ford nodded his head. That did actually work out well. It saved him time from walking to the place himself and even more so trying to search it down in this city.
"Oh!"
His brother's voice jogged him up from his thoughts. Stan had a crooked smile on his face. "Before I forget though," he walked off back through the living room.
Curiously, Ford followed after him. His brother had come to a drawer in the kitchen, rummaging around in it. He proudly turned back around upon finding something, holding it hidden in his fist. Crossing back towards him, Stanley met in the middle of the room. He silently held his fist out for him, barely restraining a smile.
Ford cautiously put his hand out underneath and a couple of mismatched keyes were dropped into his hands.
"Ha!" Stanley crossed his arms across his chest. "Those've been laying around since I moved into this place. Rooms come with two sets of keys. Drove me up the wall though to just have the extra set like that though; I almost took them back a couple times."
Stan's uplifting mood was a nice surprise, but he couldn't help being a bit confused. "Why didn't you?" Ford asked.
He waved a hand, starting to walk back towards the door. "Ah, I had better things to do."
Ford hummed, going after his brother, keeping the keys in his hand.
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It took a couple more trips to get all of Ford's stuff into the room. The last one being a bit, heh, nerve-inducing. At least for Stan, it was. Ford, on the other hand, easily picked up the crossbow and had started walking with it as though it had been something as inconspicuous as one of the earlier bags. It had actually taken Stan a second or two to realize his brother was oh so casually walking back towards the apartment building with the large weapon in one hand and a smaller bag in another.
He was still surprised Ford hadn't said something about where he was going to sleep. In all honesty, he was a bit scared to point it out. Not like he'd be able to pick up a bed in the next few hours. He'd already gotten lucky with the mattress he had. He picked it up off of the side of the street and cleaned it up as much as anyone can with just a scrub brush and a bucket of cleaner liquid.
He didn't want them to immediately start all this with an argument. Maybe tonight, okay, but he also didn't really have the time for it right now either. He'd already made the call earlier and promised to come by as soon as he could.
Stan pointed out the library as they drove up to it. "See that one? That's it. Probably has a sign on it too, can't miss it."
"What kind of library is it?" Ford questioned, hand already on the handle.
He paused. "Oh, don't really know." He shrugged.
Ford hummed, not seeming to mind. He stayed like that for a moment, then as if remembering, turned to look back at Stan again. Slowly, he started. "I'll see you… later on?"
See, this should have been a very casual moment where Ford said bye as he left, and Stan returned the saying before the door was closed on him. This was a lot more effort than just that though. This could have been simple and casual.
Except for one thing. They hadn't actually done this sort of casual in a while. They hadn't even done any 'casual' with each other in over a decade so this was weird. Just like when Ford had gotten into his car again back at Gravity Falls, it was weird.
At least Ford hadn't picked up on that though. Stan had been the only one dealing with the surreal atmosphere strong enough to fill up the car and make him choke on it for a few seconds. Now, though? Now it was awkward and both of them full well knew it.
"Yeah. See you later," Stan replied, keeping it at least semi-cool, "on the flipside."
"... Right." Ford glanced between the door and him, before finally opening it with a cough. "Later then." He said, before closing the door.
Stan allowed himself to sigh once the door was closed and drove off with a honk, relieved to see Ford in his rear view mirror giving a small wave.
Yeah, he probably hadn't realized the whole sleeping situation yet, but at least they had gone through this relatively well. No fights.
... What would it be like later though?
Stan was suddenly hit with a realization like a freight train, as he drove along.
"I don't even know how long he's staying," he whispered breathlessly. "Shit."
Did Ford even know how he long he was staying though? Nearly everything they'd brought upstairs had been equipment. Everything except for one bag, and not that big of one at that. He'd given him the second set of keys, but it wasn't like Ford was moving-in moving in, right?
What was this going to be? Two weeks before Ford figured something out then a 'see you later' as he went all the way back across the country to leave him behind in New Jersey all over ag-
Stan started hysterically laughing to himself, running a hand through his mullet. "'m getting ahead of myself," he murmured. Ford hadn't even been here for an hour yet, and he was already thinking about when he'd leave. It was way too early to think about that, and he especially didn't want to walk into work thinking about all of it either.
He turned on the radio, quickly finishing his drive pulling up behind the building. Walking briskly through the cold he made it to the door and unlocked it pushing his way in. After making it to a back room, he went inside, all winning smiles ready as he saw the figure of his ever gracious employer turning towards him along with a few others in the room.
Clad in his usual fancy attire, The Penguin greeted him with a smile, and tapping his umbrella onto the plans on the table. "Stanley, welcome back, you're just in time for tonight."
AUTHOR NOTES:
Gosh these notes are gonna be a little long so feel free to skip them if you want. The only important thing I suppose is that the next chapter is going to be really short, but also a lot of fun!
So, YES, Batman is DEFINITELY going to be in this fic, Axe. In fact, Stan has already met Batman once and you'll get to read about that, no worries.
And so Stan OFFICIALLY knows about Bill now, for the most part, at least. Not really enough to do much or anything, but small steps. Well, more so Stan putting together that whatever he'd been talking with was 1) Not Ford and 2) Not Ford Sleepwalking, Seriously. Which after reading through the journal, gave him a much better idea of it being SOMETHING supernatural.
Then I'd say 'lucky word choice' but let's be real here it looked EXACTLY like what it- possession.
03/23/17 EDIT:
Rain: I'm REALLY GLAD you like Penguin because I'll freely tell you now he's going to be the most featured Gothamite villain in the story as of my plans right now. I always love seeing your reviews man, it gets me excited. I'm really glad the randomly long chapter didn't throw you off!
Also, honestly having a beta to check over for formatting and general understanding/wrong words would actually be pretty awesome! Especially the formatting issue because whenever I copy/paste the story from google docs onto this story I ALWAYS have issues with the formatting. If you know someone that'd like to Beta or would like to yourself go ahead and PM me!
I actually have the next chapter already READY to post, but I've been trying to fix the formatting on it. It's a relatively short chapter, but it's heavier on the formatting than the usual chapters so this is actually really great timing if that was a personal offer to Beta yourself!