Author's notes: Written in honor of Forduary and my birthday. I did the first week's prompt, "Sleep," because I couldn't think of much for this week's ("Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons"). I hope you enjoy!
Ford was wide awake.
He was tired. Or maybe it would have been accurate to say "emotionally exhausted." It had been quite a day. He had finally reached the end his thirty-year mission to defeat Bill Cipher, failed at it, helped Stanley and the kids actually defeat him, and then spent the rest of the day working to restore his brother's memories. They had worked on that goal until after the sun went down. Stan was asleep now, largely if not entirely back to his old self, and they were confident that the process would continue again the next morning.
So he was, mentally, quite tired. But also very, very filled with thoughts that were as vivid as they were jumbled.
It probably didn't help that he was using a recliner in lieu of a bed.
He returned the seat to its upright position and took his glasses from the nearby table. "Figures," he grumbled. "Just when I'm absolutely sure that that demon can't enter my dreams, and now..."
He sighed and looked around the room. They were staying at the home that Soos shared with his grandmother—the shack was still a wreck, of course, and Ford hadn't felt confident that it was safe to sleep there. He had suggested his underground labs; the elevator had been disconnected when they moved the shack, but they probably could have found a way in. This was deemed "too creepy" and "not homey" enough by the rest of the family, and so Soos volunteered his place instead.
Stan was resting on the nearby couch. Ford was jealous of how easily he had fallen asleep. He supposed his memories weren't yet firm enough to give him any anxieties.
Ford got up, stretched, and wondered what he could do to occupy himself. The Ramirez home had fared better than the shack, but the whole town was lacking in basic amenities. There was no electricity, which meant no television, or even any lights to read by.
Which is why he was surprised to see one out of the corner of his eye.
"Great-Uncle Ford? Is that you?" Dipper's voice quavered as he swung the lantern toward him.
Ford winced as the light fell over Stanley's sleeping form. "Yes, but be careful," he said, pointing at his brother.
Dipper dimmed the lantern and set it down on the coffee table. Then he sighed and sat on the floor. Ford frowned to himself and reclaimed his chair.
"You couldn't sleep either?"
"Not with Soos snoring. But that's only half of it."
"I know. Today certainly was—a day, huh?"
"Yeah."
A long silence ensued.
"I am tired," Ford continued. "Which is kind of odd, I suppose. Apparently I've been 'sleeping' for the last few days. I suppose being petrified counts as rest? Or—goldified. I'm not sure there's a word for that."
"Midased?" Dipper suggested.
"Ah! Good one."
Dipper chuckled. "I got turned to wood once," he blurted. "But only for like, a minute. Still, it was pretty..."
He trailed off. Then he asked, "Great-Uncle Ford?"
"Yes?"
"...Things are gonna be okay now. Right?"
His voice cracked. Ford narrowed his eyes, trying to make out his expression in the darkness.
"You're still frightened, aren't you?"
"No. Yes. I mean—I thought I wasn't? Bill's gone now, and Grunkle Stan is doing better, but then I just—I tried to go to sleep, and Soos' floor isn't very comfortable, and I started thinking that maybe Bill isn't gone, and maybe Grunkle Stan won't get better. I mean—McGucket is doing better, but he's still kinda nuts, so what if we wake up tomorrow and Stan is back to square one? Or what if Bill comes back? We didn't do that Zodiac thing right, and maybe he got out of Grunkle Stan's mind in time, or maybe the gun erased Stan without hurting Bill, or—!"
"Dipper," Ford said, because his great-nephew's voice had been rising hysterically. The boy winced. He glanced over at Stan, who grunted, shifted slightly, but remained asleep.
Dipper exhaled. His face was turned away, as though the darkness wasn't enough to hide his embarrassment.
Ford considered what would sound comforting, found nothing good, and thus admitted, "I'm scared too."
"Oh."
"It's okay to be scared. But all we can do is think about this logically," he said, his voice growing stronger. "Weirdmageddon has ended. That would seem to indicate that Bill has been destroyed. And Stan...well. The Memory Gun can have adverse effects, but that's from long-term use, and Stanley has only been hit with it once."
"It was a pretty big hit," Dipper said meekly.
"...Yes. But still. We shouldn't entertain our fears until there's evidence to support them. Right now we have every reason to feel confident. And proud," he added. "You and your sister should both be very proud of yourselves for everything you've done."
Dipper turned his face enough that it was illuminated in the dim lantern light. Ford was relieved to see a wan smile.
"Thanks, Great-Uncle Ford."
Ford smiled back.
"Hey. Are you two still up?"
They turned as Mabel stepped into the room, shining a flashlight onto her face to be seen; it gave her a ghostly look, if you ignored the googly-eyed smiley sticker stuck to her cheek.
"You have trouble sleeping too?" Dipper asked as she came and sat down on the armrest of Ford's chair.
"Yeah. Even though I'm so tired." She let her head fall against Ford's; he blinked but allowed it to stay without protest. "What are you guys talking about?"
"Nothing," Dipper said quickly. "Just...y'know. Stuff."
"Like how proud I am of you both," Ford cut in. He was pretty that he had struck avuncular gold with that comment.
Mabel nodded; she didn't seem to need as much encouragement on that front as her brother. Then she asked, "Are you still worried about Stan and Bill and all that junk?"
"Are you?" Ford asked gently.
"I don't know. At first I couldn't go to sleep because I was happy! But..."
"I guess it's just hard to turn off worry so quickly," Dipper finished.
"Yeah."
"Maybe we should have a sleepover?" Mabel said, suddenly brightening. "We could wake up Soos and Stan and Abuelita, and it'll be just like the first night that we all spent over here! That was the first time this summer when the shack got destroyed!" she added, for Ford's benefit.
"Excuse me?"
"It was Gideon's fault," Dipper said quickly. "And it wasn't actually 'destroyed' until later. But we had to stay here, and Soos insisted that we all have a 'slumber party' in the living room."
He and Mabel began to tell the story of that whole adventure, which Ford had never heard before (though it helped explain some enigmatic comments that Dipper had made in his journal). This led into other stories about their summer, which reminded Ford of some anecdotes about his time in the Tapir Dimension. The twins asked a lot of questions, though they were starting to yawn now, and then Ford began to nod off as Mabel talked about Mermando...
Later, when the morning light streamed into the room and Stan finally woke up, he would find those three people—his family, he remembered after a moment—all squeezed into the same armchair, leaning against each other as they slept.
