(A/N: I was actually planning on just giving up this story because no one was reading it, but I just discovered today that one person has liked it! It was enough motivation for me to open up FFN and start typing out another chapter! So thank you whoever you are, I love you to bits! I apologise for not seeing it sooner, for some reason I've not being getting any notifications from here lately.)

Ford can't remember a time in his life when he was as stressed and paranoid as he is now. A week with not even a second of sleep will do that to anyone, but there's also the added burden of dealing with Bill Cipher. The name alone is enough to fill Ford with a special kind of dread he's never felt before. It used to be the name of a good friend, of a Muse, of someone who just wanted to help, someone who finally understood Ford.

The worst part is that Bill actually did understand him. He understood perfectly. As much as Ford would like to deny it, Bill had known all the right words and had been able to make him do anything he wanted, while at the same time making the scientist believe it was all his idea.

"Looks like Mr. Brainiac finally got smart!" Those words haven't stopped ringing through his head, but worse than that is it's true!

Ford had been an idiot. Looking back, he wonders why it never occurred to him that there was something up with Bill. He sees it now in its most glaringly obvious form. The inscriptions on the cave walls had been warning him. When Bill hadn't wanted Fiddleford to know about him, that should have been a warning, too. All the times Bill would just randomly enter into his mind or take control of his body, especially while he was sleeping, that was a great big warning. Even Ford himself hadn't felt comfortable at times with what was happening. But he'd ignored it all like a fool. Now he only has himself to blame.

The worst part is the loneliness. He's stuck dealing with this all on his own with no one to help or ease the burden. Being left alone with only his thoughts for company is not fun in any stretch of imagination. He doesn't know where Fiddleford is; he was way too arrogant and chased him off. Fiddleford is- was his best friend and he could've -would've - helped. He always helped! Why couldn't Ford have done the same for him!? His friend tried to warn him about what was on the other side of that portal, but had he listened? No! He was an ignorant fool! Ford's only ever friend and he didn't even know where he was or if he was still alive!

No, he wasn't his only friend. But the only other person Ford could think of was someone he hadn't seen or spoken to in more than a decade. Someone he hadn't wanted to speak to or think about. He'd wanted nothing to ever do with him for the rest of his life... until now. He's desperate. He can't do this on his own. He needs human interaction - he doesn't care who as long as it's someone! Because if he has to spend one more day alone, with Bill at the back of his mind, whispering threats and trying to possess him- well, it doesn't bare thinking about!

He pulls out a postcard from one of the drawers of his cluttered desk. He bought quite a few when he'd first come here to send to his parents and older brother and nephew. He misses them all dearly now. He misses his mother's hugs and comforting words, how she would never hold a mistake against him, not even one as serious as this. He misses Shermie and little ten-year-old Liam. Shermie has always looked out for him and had always been there with advice and a listening ear when either of his brothers needed it, and Liam is just such an innocent kid with the most simple (albeit unrealistic and ineffective) solutions to things. If they were here, Liam would be rushing up to crush him in a big hug while Ford's mother hovered constantly by his side and made a fuss of him. Shermie would be taking charge, working out what could be solved immediately, what couldn't wait, making plans of action. His wife, Laura, would help come up with ideas and would rush around making drinks for everyone and fetching blankets for them all. And, while Filbrick Pines is known mostly to be a cold and callous man, Ford likes to think he'd be worrying over his son and trying to help and comfort him.

But that is a stupid fantasy to have. His family are not here and it's selfish of him to wish they were. They'd all be in immense danger and Bill might try use them as leverage against him.

However, there is still one option left open to him. Bill knows that he and his twin don't get along, so the chances are he's not expecting Stanley to be the one Ford goes to for help. Ford wasn't expecting Stanley to be the one he went to for help.

"Pen... pen... where is that pen?!" Ford searches around for several minutes, his tired brain annoyed with all the clutter around him but not registering that he's the one who made the mess. He hasn't tidied up in weeks. If he doesn't know where his things are, the terror residing in his head won't either. Bill is actually very creative and can use just about anything as a torture device - Ford unfortunately knows this all too well. Sharp objects were among the first things to be hidden in the house (that now feels more like a prison).

Please come!

Simple yet effective. Stan will definitely listen to this. His abused mind doesn't allow him to even dwell on the possibility that his twin won't come. He has to; Ford doesn't have any other options!

"Be quick, Stan," he pleads into an otherwise silent house before heading out to post the card. Time for the weirdest family reunion ever.