Minor warning for injury, language, and some badass grunkles.
Here's chapter 61 of "Welcome Home"!
"I'm havin' second thoughts about all this." McGucket commented, gulping as they parked in the studios parking lot.
"Ah, don't be a pussy." Stan scolded. "We'll be out before ya' know it. And besides, those boys you like are all in there." He reminded.
"Stanley, do you remember the plan?" Ford asked after parking the car, turning around to look at his brother.
Stan gave a nod. "Uh, yeah. I'm all good." He said, unsure if his answer qualified as being a lie or not.
"Alright, you and McGucket come with us, then wait by the door on the side." Ford instructed. He stepped out of the vehicle and beckoned Chris with his hand. "You, come along." He commanded. Chris followed the instruction and got out of the vehicle, leaving his empty juice box on the car's floor. Ford paid no mind to it for the time being and waited for him. They shut their doors and walked alongside each other towards the back of the building where they would open the door. Fiddleford and Stan got out of the backseat and trailed behind them.
Stan put his hands into his black suit pant pockets. "You two better not take long," He said. "I don't wanna drop dead before ya' come back for us."
"We won't be long." Ford assured. "Five minutes at best." He reasoned.
McGucket reached out and took hold of Chris' hand, putting his other overtop it. Chris looked at the other with a confused glance. He could see the old man's pupils dilated, specs in them as his eyes watered. The blonde tilted his head.
"Yo, is this one dying?" Chris genuinely asked, pointing at him. Ford rolled his eyes.
"N-N-Now you be safe in there, ye' hear?" McGucket began before giving off an obnoxious sniffle. Chris cringed slightly at the sound. "We can't have ye' gettin' h-hurt in there, er' taken, er' anythin'." He said. Chris saw his concerned expression and bit his lip, pulling away slightly but otherwise giving him a nod. McGucket gave another sniffle and let go of Chris, afterwards wiping the snot coming from his nose onto his sleeve. Stan gave him a look of disgust.
"Let's not waste time." Ford said, reminding them of the task at hand. Chris complied with the beckoning and followed along behind the scientist.
The two left Stan and McGucket at the side of the building where they would wait for them to return and open the door from the other side. They snuck to the back of the building and headed towards the ladder that was attached to the roof. Chris felt some nervousness being up on a ladder and a roof with a stranger. Bratsman's behavior towards both himself and his brothers was a good portion of the reason for his paranoia. Ford noticed his uneasiness and went first. Chris bit his lip and gripped the ladder, following up after the other man.
Ford reached the end of the ladder and pulled himself up to the roof. He turned around, kneeling down and extending a hand towards Chris. The blonde reached the top and noticed the hand. The look Ford wore was not a hostile one. It was neutral. Chris extended his hand and grabbed hold of his. In one thrust Chris was pulled up onto the roof alongside the scientist. Chris watched Ford stand up and followed suit.
The blonde's nervousness did not go unnoticed by Ford. He showed slight confusion that Chris didn't notice. He figured it would be better that way. Ford wondered if perhaps he were intimidating to the smaller man. It would make sense, especially after how he had acted when he'd first encountered Chris. It was relieving that the blonde didn't intend harm; it would make their mission easier to come through with. He was also very obedient, which served in Ford's favor when it came to instructions.
"There," Ford began, turning around and pointing over at the poorly secured vent. Chris walked towards it along with the other. He grabbed the vent's lid and placed it beside him. Chris noticed at a screw that had fallen when he'd removed the plate, but paid little mind to it. He stuck his head down into the hole, his hands on the sides of the opening as to not fall in head-first. His right hand slipped on the round screw and he stumbled slightly. Ford clamped a hand on his shoulder to keep him from falling. Chris gave a whimper and quickly removed himself from the opening, scooting back a bit. He grabbed the screw and threw it off the roof, bringing his hands close towards his chest. He looked at Ford for all but a second before looking back at the vent.
"Would you like me to go first?" Ford asked, seeing the blonde's sudden nervousness after nearly falling through. The little nod Chris gave in return was all he needed for an answer. Ford adjusted his glasses and put both six-fingered hands on two different sides of the entrance. He looked down and took his hands away one by one, allowing himself the short fall from the hole in the ceiling. He landed on the top of the room's cage and looked up at Chris. He waved a hand down.
"Come down." He beckoned. Chris let his feet dangle down into the hole of the vent, his hands still hanging on to the sides of the entrance. Ford held his hands out in hopes of seeming reassuring to his safety. Chris gulped and removed one hand, then the other, and let go. Ford grabbed his waist and set him down beside him. Chris let out a relieved sigh, and looked around in the dark room. He walked towards the edge of the cage and climbed down it.
Ford grabbed the side of the cage wall and slid down. The sound of his boots touching the floor caught the attention of one of the boys in the cage. Chris saw him stir and recognized him to be Leggy. He reached the bottom of the cage, and he too stood on the floor of the room.
Leggy gasped. "Visitors!" He said, standing up and looking at the two. He was quick to notice his brother, and he smiled. "Chris!" He cheered.
"Keep it down, dawg!" Chris whisper-shouted. He looked around the room before his gaze returned to his brother. "We're here to set everyone free. Where's Bratsman?"
"Not here," Leggy answered. "He's probably in his office. Last time he came in, he was checking to make sure Creggy got back in here after he'd left to check on that other dude." He informed.
"Other dude?" Chris asked, hoping for more context. He assumed him to be talking about Bill, but couldn't jump to any conclusions.
Ford gripped the cage with one of his hands and rested it there. "Who was he going to see?" He questioned.
Leggy didn't exactly know the older man, and was uneasy with answering to a stranger. Then again, he reminded himself, the stranger was there with Chris, so he couldn't assume that he was hostile. Just serious. He wondered if this was the man that Bill had mentioned on a couple different occasions.
"That-that Bill dawg." Leggy then responded. His eyes darted to the six fingered hand that further clenched a section of the metal cage wall at the mentioning of the name. He couldn't quite tell if it was a hostile gesture or not.
"Where is he?" Ford inquired, his brows furrowing slightly. He loosened his grip on the piece of cage beside his head a bit as to not come off as aggressive.
Leggy played with his hands awkwardly, giving a shake of his head. "I-I-I don't know for sure. I-I'm sorry." He admitted, looking down at his feet. Ford gave a nod.
"Can you get us with someone who does?" Ford hoped.
"Yeah man, I gotchu." Leggy said with a wave of his head. Ford raised an eyebrow at the new generations way of speaking, but paid little mind to that. There were much more important things to keep his attention on. Leggy turned around and put a hand beside his face. "Yo, Creggs!" He called out. The blonde mentioned looked up from where he laid curled up on the floor. Leggy pointed his thumb behind him. "This old fool's got some questions." He said. Ford scrunched his nose at the label.
Creggy very briefly looked at the three standing as he walked over. "Yo dawg, what's the problem?" He asked, assuming the confrontation to be something negative.
"I think they're looking for Bill, yo." Leggy informed.
"Yo, is that his grandpa or somethin', bro?" Creggy asked.
Leggy pursed his lips and shook his head. "Nah man, I think that's his human dude, yo." He said. Ford turned his head and let out a frustrated breath of air from his nose, not exactly from the unintended insults, but by the two's incredibly annoying overuse of the 'Yo' phrase. He sighed and looked back at the two.
"We were told you've seen Bill recently." Ford began. Chris gave a nod in agreement. "When? And where?" He asked.
Creggy gave a mere shrug in return, "That depends," He started, messing with his gold chained necklace around his neck. "Who's asking?" He questioned.
"Just us." Chris assured. Creggy turned to him and tilted his head. "This guy's tryina' find Bill and set him free so he can go back home with the rest of 'em." He informed.
Creggy's eyes widened, which Ford briefly noticed. "Hold on- you're the guy? The blonde asked in a moment of complete shock. "You're his boyfriend, aren't you?" He questioned.
Ford furrowed his brows at the strange question and wondered for a moment how the stranger knew such information. Nonetheless he gave a hesitant nod of his head
Creggy narrowed his eyes as he stared at the older man and pursed his lips, stroking his chin for a moment. "That's weird," He observed, taking his hand away from his face and instead folding his arms. "You're a whole lot older than I thought you'd be." He commented.
Ford scowled. "Where is he?" The scientist demanded.
Creggy was about to answer, but stopped himself. He wasn't sure if telling them was a safe idea. "What if your plan fails?" He asked.
"Creggs," Chris started.
"No, dawg, you don't understand," Creggy began. "That dude's only in there because I made him lose his temper." He said. "I'm worried that if Bratsman catches one of you he'll just get into more trouble." He said.
"But he's already been isolated somewhere around here," Chris reasoned. "How much more trouble could he be in?"
Creggy looked down at his feet, taking his brother's words into account. "Fair point." He agreed.
"I'm afraid we might not have much time to pull this off," Ford said. He was met with a guilty expression from the blonde. He held out his hand a short distance and said, "Please, don't make me ask you again."
The blonde gave a sigh. "Alright then," He agreed. "Chris, you know that one hallway around the other side'a the building that no one really goes to with that cell?" He asked. Chris slowly nodded all until hitting a realization.
"Wait, y-you don't mean the-" He said with a look of fear for the stranger. Creggy frowned and released a sigh.
"Afraid so, dawg." The blonde muttered. "I don't have exact directions, but it's at the other side of this place." He informed. Ford gave a nod.
"Well I'm here to get you guys out." Chris said. he pointed his thumb behind him. "This dude's gonna figure out all that Bill junk." He added.
"I'm letting the others in, don't go anywhere." Ford instructed before walking towards the door. Chris nodded and started small talk with the other.
Ford left the room and turned to his right down the hall, seeing the emergency exit not far from him. He wasn't sure how much time had passed. Surely only a few minutes. His hand touched the handle on the door and he opened it to see Stan and McGucket on the other side.
"Took ya' long enough." Stan grumbled with folded arms. Ford scowled in return.
"Ah, ye' did fine." McGucket assured, walking inside the building by Ford's side. Stan grunted and followed behind.
"Come along, Stanley," Ford said. "You'll have to look around on your own."
Stan pulled out a pair of brass knuckles out of his inside suit pocket. McGucket saw him do so and widened his eyes. Were it anyone else he would be surprised to see someone pull out brass knuckles and slide them on their fingers so casually. He wondered if Stan regularly kept a pair on him.
"Hope I get to punch someone." Stan said, a grin sparking.
Ford glanced over his shoulder towards his twin and gave a small smile. "Well, if you come across that no-good, bird brained, blockheaded son of a-" He rambled as his fists gradually tightened, only pausing when he felt McGucket's hand resting on his shoulder. He stopped walking and briefly looked down at it. Ford released a sigh, letting his fists unclench themselves. He looked back at Stan and continued, "Then by all means, give him a good one." He said. Stan's grin widened and he cracked his knuckles in his spare hand. He walked ahead of the other two.
"And Stanley," Ford called out, extending his arm and grabbing hold of his brother's wrist before he escaped his reach. Stan turned and raised an eyebrow. Ford offered him a light smile. "Thank you." He said, his eyes showing that he was being genuine. Stan smiled and gave a single nod.
Ford returned the gesture and let go of his arm. Stan clenched his fists and walked off to turn a corner. Ford looked to his left to see that they had returned to their original room. McGucket poked his head in and gasped at seeing four of the five Sev'ral Timez boys in the cage, the fifth standing on the outside. Chris had turned the light on while Ford had left. McGucket squealed and rushed into the room, gripping the cage and grinning at the boys.
"Y-You! A-And you! Yer' all here!" Fiddleford said, pointing at the four before putting his hands into the sides of his hair. "Oh golly, t-this is just too much fer' me ta' handle. Someone wake me up! I'm up close to the most talented group in Gravity Falls!" He squealed before throwing his hands into the air. Ford had rushed up to him and quickly took a knee, putting a hand over the other man's mouth. McGucket's feminine squeal was muffled by the six-fingered hand.
"Quiet down," Ford commanded. "We can't afford to get caught by your starstruck behavior."
McGucket looked up at the scientist and gave a nod.
"Are you finished?" Ford questioned.
Another nod was given by the engineer.
Ford released his hand from the other's mouth. Fiddleford took a few steady breaths before looking up at the boys once more. He bit down on his bottom lip and put two fists up by his chin with an eager grin.
Chubby Z looked at Chris and pointed at the old man. "Yo, who is this fool?" He asked.
McGucket gasped. "Acknowledgement!" He screeched before giving another squeal. Ford cringed and gave a heavy sigh.
Stan moved on to complete a part he had to pursue for their plan. He was alone, but didn't mind that. He had his fists. Stan was stopped in his tracks at hearing a squeal from the room his brother was in. He shook off the confusion, assuming it to either be McGucket or a wolf.
Stan rounded the corner and looked ahead of him to check his surroundings. He saw one singular security guard leaning against the wall with his back to Stan, lost in thought as he took a bite from his peanut butter sandwich. Stan clenched his fists and hesitantly walked up to the person. He stood behind him and raised his fist above his head. The stranger turned slightly and looked up at the fist from the old man.
"Woah- hey!" The guard started, his hands out in front of him. He saw Stan's brass knuckles and gulped, his sandwich dropping to the floor. Stan puts his fists up in front of him as a warning.
"I'm really hopin' I getta' punch somebody today." Stan started, making the stranger shiver. He furrowed his brows. "You got a radio, doofus?" He asked.
The guard gulped and looked behind him, taking a couple hesitant steps back. Stan glared.
"Hey!" Stan growled, grabbing hold of the other man's shirt collar and pulling him closer, raising his fist behind him in preparation for a punch. "I asked you a question, you idiot." He snapped.
The man had a look of fear on his face, but nodded in response to the question. Stan wasn't satisfied with just a nod.
"Well?" Stan spat, glaring at the other.
"Y-Yes." The security guard answered.
Stan's fist flattened, and he held his hand out towards the man. "Gimme." Stanley ordered.
The guard frowned. "W-We're not allowed to give those to-"
"Did I ask what kinda rules you bozos have here?" Stan snapped. The guard shook his head. Stan scowled. "I said gimme." He pressed, his hand remaining out towards the other.
"What does he need one of these for?" The security guard muttered to himself as his shaky hands moved to his belt. Stan glared.
"Hey, I ask the questions here!" He shouted, startling the security guard. A hand reached by his back and his shaky hands grasped the walkie talkie. He pulled it out of his belt and surrendered it to Stan. The con man grabbed the radio.
"You ain't never seen me here," Stan stated. The guard nodded. The old man scowled. "Don't go yappin' about this." He ordered. Again the man nodded. Stan released his hold on the man and walked away. The guard stood stunned for a moment before waiting until the older man left sight. He was at least glad that he had been spared a punch.
The security guard slowly walked backwards before letting it turn into a full-on run. He saw another guard and yelled, "We've got a problem!"
Stan returned to the room the other's were inside. He poked his head in through the doorframe. His brother was quick to catch sight of him. Stan grinned and pulled out the handheld radio from his suit pocket. Ford gave him a nod before entering the room.
"Did you get a punch in?" Ford asked.
Stan frowned. "Not yet." He grumbled. He laughed and said, "The guy was too much of a wimp, there'd be a lot less fun in pickin' on him compared to someone else."
Ford gave a short nod before looking down at the radio in Stan's hand. "You'll be giving that to McGucket." Ford reminded. Stan went to give the walkie talkie to Fiddleford, who was still starstruck by the Sev'ral Timez boys. The man took the radio from Stan's hand without taking his eyes away from the others.
"You sure you can handle getting these guys outta' here, or are ya' just gonna look at 'em the whole time?" Stan asked, folding his arms.
At being spoken to Fiddleford turned his head. He gave an awkward chuckle. "Oh, eh... right." He said. "I've got it." He assured, though Stan wasn't too convinced.
"Chris, go find that key for this cage." Ford instructed. Chris nodded and headed towards the door. The twins followed, but before they left Ford turned. "And Fiddleford, try not to get distracted." He said. The other gave him a nod before returning his attention back to the others. The other three left the room, Stan quickly heading off away from them. Chris started towards Bratsman's office, Ford following behind to find another hallway.
It wasn't long before Chris reached the door that led to his old producers office. He gulped and stood frozen at the sight of it. Ford hardly noticed and walked past him in attempt to locate another hallway to search if Chris didn't need help.
The blonde looked down at the keyhole in the door and took a knee, closing an eye to look through it. He could faintly see Bratsman there at his desk. Chris bit his lip and quickly stood up.
"Hey," He whisper-shouted, catching Ford's attention from where he stood in the distance. The scientist quickly came back over. He flipped the side of his coat back slightly and grabbed his holster.
"Is he in there?" Ford asked. The blonde nodded, fiddling with his hands. Ford could easily tell that Chris was afraid. He ordered him to stay back, and Chris quickly complied. He hid himself behind the other man. Ford took the ray gun and cocked it, holding it towards the lock. He took a shot and busted the lock, kicking the door wide open and making quick work of entering. Chris shivered and followed behind.
Bratsman looked up from his paperwork after hearing the noise and was shocked to see a stranger bursting into his office with a weapon that shot his door.
"It was unlocked!" Bratsman cried out, looking up at the intruder. He heard the scientist's gun make a click and gave off a look of fear. The gun quickly made contact with his forehead as Ford glared down at him.
"Where is he?" The author inquired..
"Where's who?" Bratsman replied, shaking at the weapon that was being held against his skull.
"Bill, damn you! Where is Bill?" Ford snapped.
Ergman cringed at the tone. "I don't know who you're talkin' about, ya' lunatic!" He exclaimed, his glance landing on the blonde behind the stranger.
"Don't look at him, look at me." Ford ordered. Bratsman complied as to not risk his life. Ford took his other hand and motioned Chris to start searching the room. He was hesitant but went along with the task. Bratsman had a feeling of worry pass through him as Chris started aimlessly walking about his room, focusing on the shelf at the side of his wall.
"Who- what are you doing?" Bratsman cried out. He couldn't tell if that was a stranger or one of his boys due to the change of clothes. Perhaps they had escaped their cage. Perhaps his prisoner had been set free.
"Don't worry about him," Ford demanded again. Ergman looked back at the scientist. "Keep your eyes on me, and don't move." He ordered.
"This is outrageous!" Bratsman hollered. "Why are you crazy people here?"
"I ask the questions," Ford bellowed. "You listen, and you answer." He told the producer.
Bratsman glared. "Do you know who you're talking to right now? Do you have any idea what-" He started, all before Ford took the gun off his head and pulled the trigger, the bullet just barely dodging his head. Ergman shouted out of complete shock and turned to look at where he had shot. Chris also jolted at the noise from the ray gun. There was a dent in the wall now, the surrounding area covered in a darker shade, smoke from the impact surrounding the damage.
"There's your warning." Ford grumbled before facing his gun back at the man. Bratsman was shaking now. He was serious.
After another moment of searching Chris had found what he was looking for in a secret drawer in the bookshelf. He took it out and held it up to see several different keys on the metal loop, one particular key larger than the others. He smiled and held it up for Ford to see.
"Look dawg, I found em'!" Chris cheered.
Ford took a short glance towards the blonde. "Excellent, now go bring them to McGucket." He ordered. Chris nodded and turned to the door.
"Wait a minute, no! You stop right there!" Bratsman hollered, quickly standing up and reaching for the smaller man in a poor attempt to grab the keys. Chris shrieked and rushed out of the room while Ford made the tip of his gun collide with the producers forehead.
"Sit down." He commanded through clenched teeth. Bratsman looked up at the gun pointed on him and gulped, slowly sitting back down and putting his hands under his desk. A bead of sweat dribbled down the side of his forehead. He hesitantly maneuvered them over to his middle drawer on the right of his desk, slowing opening the desk and grabbing hold of a radio. Ford noticed the movement and scowled.
"Keep your arms up and away from the desk." He ordered, "We can't have you crying for help."
Bratsman put one hand up, the other remaining on the walkie talkie he held in his hand, pushing the button down so the audio played through to all the radios in the building.
"Security will find you! They'll find all of you!" Bratsman shouted in hopes of seeming threatening.
Ford wasn't worried. "If you value your life you'll listen to what I'm telling you." He growled. His eyes wandered to the lowered arm which the producer quickly noticed. He dropped the radio, causing it to collide with the floor. He put his other hand up away from his desk.
"I don't have anything," Bratsman started. "Now what do you people want from me?" He questioned.
Ford scowled. Clearly the stranger wasn't good at following orders. "We're here for a few reasons," Ford chose to comply with answering. "For one, you treat your clones like puppets and give little care to them. I'd like to see how that internet would react to such news," He began. "Then you kidnapped Bill who, I'll have you know, was never yours to take, and made him work alongside those other boys as if he knew what to do. You've been keeping him in line by threatening him with unfair consequences that he shouldn't be being given anyway when he can't understand what the hell he's doing!" He growled.
Ergman had his eyes squinted slightly, confused on just who the older man was talking about.
"He almost had the chance to leave that night of the concert, but you held him back from us. From me." Ford sneered. He held the tip of the gun harder against Bratsman's forehead. Ergman scrunched his nose for a moment. Ford glared down at the producer. "Now you've hidden him away from everyone here. I want him back, and I've sure got a bone to pick with you for causing so much trouble. In fact, if I didn't want you alive for information, I would have shot you dead by now. So I'm going to ask you one final time," Ford said, clenching his spare fist and cocking the gun. "Where is Bill?"
"I'm telling you," Ergman huffed, "I-I-I don't know a Bill." He claimed.
Ford furrowed his brows. He wondered if Bratsman had assumed Bill was Chris, just as he had mistaken Chris for Bill the first night of the pop star's stay at the Mystery Shack. Ford sighed and reached into his coat with his spare hand, grabbing out some rope. Bratsman gulped at the sight of the tool. He looked down to see Ford take a knee beside him, unraveling the rope and tying the end around his ankle, attaching the man to the chair.
"Hey!" Bratsman exclaimed, squirming slightly. He looked and saw that the scientist had left the ray gun on his desk. He quickly extended his hands and aimed the gun towards Ford.
"I'll kill you, and it'll only take one shot!" Bratsman warned.
Ford took a moment, making sure he tied the knot secure, before looking up at the man. He saw Ergman's glare and the gun he held towards him. Ford seemed completely unbothered.
"Cute." Ford said in return. He was given a confused look by the other before he took his hands and placed them on Bratsman's, twisting on the skin of his arm. Bratsman shouted in pain and let go of the gun. Ford picked it up off his lap and scoffed.
"Are you kidding? That's practically a child maneuver, man." Ford muttered, putting his ray gun back in the holster. He shook his head and continued tying the rope while Bratsman rubbed the sore skin. He complained constantly as Ford continued to tie him up, though his strategy for the way it all came together made it impossible for Bratsman to even stand up with the chair attached to him. Ford had even tied the chair to the bottom of the desk. Bratsman glared up at the scientist as he rose from the ground, the fallen radio in hand. He grabbed the producer's face and kept him close.
"Don't expect me to be finished with you." Ford said before removing his hand from the other's face. Bratsman scowled.
"You'll pay for this!" Bratsman shouted. Ford took a handkerchief out of his coat and twisted it before shoving it in the producer's mouth. Bratsman gave a muffled shout and glared. Ford smiled and headed towards the door. He slid the radio into one of his lab coat pockets.
The author gave a chuckle and turned his head behind him. "I'd like to see you try something now." He taunted before opening the door, closing it shut behind him. He headed towards the hallway that he assumed would lead him to an unexplored part of the building.
"I'm pretty sure it's the big one." Chris said, holding up the keys to his face. He grabbed hold of the particular key on the loop and handed it to McGucket. He extended his arm and put the key in the lock, turning it to see if it would unlock. To their luck, a click sound was made and the door on the metal cage came open with a small squeak. He grinned and held the door open. The boys inside all rushed to the door at once, the opening getting blocked off. McGucket giggled.
"One at a time, yo!" Chris said before facepalming. The sound of jumbled agreements from the others were heard before they lined up and exited the cage.
"Freedom!" Greggy C said with his hands in the air, making a move as if to bolt to the door. Chris stopped him.
"Slow yer' role there," McGucket began. Greggy turned to him and nodded. Fiddleford grinned at the acknowledgment before continuing. "We've gotta be stealthy if we wanna avoid bein' caught." He advised. The radio in McGucket's hand buzzed before a voice was heard.
"Security will find you! They'll find all of you!" Bratsman had shouted. The boys all jumped at the sound of their producer's voice.
"The box is haunted, yo!" Chubby exclaimed, pointing at the device.
"If you value your life you'll listen to what I'm telling you." Another voice said. Half the room was unfamiliar with the voice, the other half understood. McGucket smiled.
"Looks like he's still got it." He said with a laugh. He turned to the boys and put the radio in his pocket. "Alright, let's head out that door there. Ford's got a handle on yer' producer, but we've still gotta avoid security." He said. The five all nodded in unison. McGucket squealed for a moment before smacking his own wrist with his other hand. He cleared his throat and started towards the door, the boys following behind him.
The hallway was quiet, save for the sound of quiet, collected footsteps. McGucket was at the front of the line and Chris chose to stay in back just to make sure no one could come for his brothers. They were lucky the exit wasn't too far from the room they had come out from.
When McGucket reached the exit he nearly opened it, all before hearing a person speaking on the other side. They heard a laugh and assumed there were two security guards there.
"Go back, go back!" Chris whisper-shouted. The six all hurried back to the cage room, shutting the door behind them.
"Man, not this room again." Leggy muttered.
Chris gave him a pat on the shoulder. "It won't be long dawg, we've got a backup plan." He assured.
"Can y'all climb?" McGucket asked. The five all nodded. "Good, c'mere." He beckoned. The boys all came to him at the side of the cage. "We've gotta climb to the top." He informed.
Greggy and Creggy were eager and they both climbed up in unison. Leggy followed after them, Chubby climbing behind him. Chris and McGucket went last, but McGucket made it up first. He had a lot of experience with climbing.
"Ye' see that hole in the ceilin'?" Fiddleford asked, pointing to it. "We're gonna come up outta' there." He said.
Chubby Z took a step back. "Oh uh... I don't know about this." He muttered.
"Allow me ta' demonstrate, gen'lmen." McGucket said, crawling to the hole and grabbing the sides, lifting himself up and onto the roof. He looked down at the others who gave a collection of 'Ooh''s.
"Me next!" Greggy said, grabbing the top and standing up. With a strained groan he managed to lift himself up beside McGucket. The old man grinned. Creggy and Chubby followed after their brother, Leggy going next. McGucket looked down at Deep Chris.
"C'mon now," He encouraged.
Chris gulped. "I-It's scary." He muttered. Creggy chuckled and Leggy nudged him in his side.
McGucket held out a hand. "Here." He offered. Chris hesitantly reached out his hand, grabbing hold of the other man's. With some struggle he managed to make it up to the roof with the others.
"It's that gosh darn sun again." Chubby grumbled, seeing the shining of the dreadful creature.
"Stare it down, yo!" Creggy cheered on. McGucket's eyes widened and he put his hands up before anything could go on.
"That sun's not fer' a'lookin at!" Fiddleford told, "It's what makes the weather warmer and helps us ta' see in the daytime." He informed. "Now follow me, we've gotta find the ladder." He said.
Chris pointed to his left. "It's right there." He informed. McGucket looked and, sure enough, saw the top of the ladder that was connected to the roof sticking up. McGucket went over first and checked the perimeter. There was no security to be found. The boys would be free.
"Well, once ye' go down the ladder that's... that's it." McGucket said with a saddened chuckle. He was glad to see the pop stars becoming free again, but it pained him knowing it may be the last time he would see them. The boys all sensed their super fan's sadness and gave a collective nod to each other. They all stood around Fiddleford and wrapped their arms around him. McGucket gasped and looked at the boys. A smile quickly crept up on his face. He was grinning stupidly and scratched the back of his neck when the others pulled away.
"It's a hug," Leggy informed.
"Mabel girl taught us what those were when she met us last summer." Chris said.
McGucket gave a teary-eyed smile. He'd have to remember to geek out with Mabel about the pop stars the next time the twins came for a visit. He waved to the boys as four of the five headed towards the ladder, climbing down. Chris stayed behind which Fiddleford only noticed when he counted four. He saw the blonde standing beside him and raised an eyebrow.
"I should probably head back in. Those old dudes might need me." Chris said. "You coming?"
"I-I'll wait here a little while," McGucket said, giving a sniffle. Chris chuckled and wished him well before heading back into the building. His fear of the entrance seemed to have lessened. McGucket gave a small smile and waited a moment before looking off the edge. He sat down on the edge beside the ladder, a tear filled with mixed emotions rolling down his cheek as four of his five favorite pop stars rushed into the forest. They were free.
Ford was rushing through the building, trying to find a way to Bill. His radio buzzed and he took it out from his pocket.
""I-Is anyone there?" He heard Fiddleford ask, his voice sounding a bit off.
Ford pressed the button on the radio and held it up closer to his face. "Yes, I'm here." He answered.
"Me too." They heard Stan say.
Ford raised an eyebrow. "Stanley, how did you-"
"I found another group'a security guys." Stan answered. "Long story short, I might be gettin' sued by one of 'em." He said. Ford groaned in distaste.
"Hello?" A shaky voice asked.
Stan growled. "Don't make me track you down a second time, Tony." He grumbled. There was silence from the stranger after that.
"I see you're making friends." Ford mumbled.
"The boys are gone." McGucket said. "I set 'em all free." He muttered. "There were a couple people outside too, they might be lookin' for us." He informed.
"Then we'll have to be stealthy" Ford said. He turned a corner and, to his luck, came across a swarm of security guards all huddled around a room. He saw the sign to see it read, 'Break room'. In just a matter of seconds all eyes were on him. One of the five guards took a slow bite of his donut when he caught sight of the stranger.
Ford's gave an unamused look. "How ironic." He mumbled to himself.
One guard pointed at the walkie talkie in Ford's hand the moment he caught sight of it. "He's got a radio!" The man cried out. Four guards all glared at the scientist and charged towards him. Ford took a step back and got into a defensive stance. He pulled his gun out of his holster.
"Get the weapon!" One shouted.
"Sixer, what's happening?" Stan questioned.
"He has a gun, hold him down!" Another said.
"It's times like these when those radio phrases would be convenient. Ye' know, like 'over' an' all." Fiddleford commented.
"You kidding?" Stan argued. "That's just a stupid thing for babies." He grumbled.
"No it ain't." Fiddleford argued.
Two security guards managed to restrain one of Ford's arms, his gun unusable without the arm available. He nudged one in the face with his spare elbow, only for his other arm to be restrained after.
"Look, I've only ever heard kids say that dumb stuff on toy radios. It's useless." Stan scoffed.
Ford tried to pull away, but a third restrained his left leg and a fourth knocked him to the ground on his back, the radio falling out of his hand. He groaned at the pain in his back but was relieved to have access to his hands again.
"It's a good way to communicate an' make sure the other person's done speakin'." Fiddleford replied. He and Stan proceeded to argue about the topic as if they had forgotten about the scientist.
Ford held his gun up at the guard standing above him, his other hand gripping his aching side.
"I mean well. Don't test me." Ford warned him.
"We don't take well to intruders." The guard above him said, pinning his arms above his head. Ford struggled in the hold at first but broke through the grip and punched the guard in the face. The stranger groaned and sent an attack back, two more guards coming to his aid to stop the scientist from causing trouble.
Another security guard rushed to the radio and grabbed hold of it, picking it up off the ground. He pushed the button when he saw Ford strangling one of the guards, the man going unconscious quickly after.
"Help, w-we need some backup here!" The guard said over the radio to any potential workers who weren't already at the break room. Stan and Fiddleford had heard the stranger over their radios, as well as Ford's shouting and struggling.
Stan sighed at hearing all of the commotion. "Guess Ford's out." He muttered.
One guard tried prying the ray gun from Ford's hand. The author turned his attention to that person and fought with him to get it back by tugging recklessly.
"Can't we just knock him out?" One guard suggested before getting kicked by the scientist's boot as he struggled.
"Should I go look for 'im?" McGucket suggested.
"Nah, let Ford fight his own battle. They'll only end up takin' you, too." Stan replied. Fiddleford didn't know if he felt very good about sitting around outside without doing anything to help his friend, but he also didn't want to make the situation worse.
The guard holding the radio scowled. "Who is this?" He asked. He was met with silence on the other lines. This didn't help his confusion. His grip on the walkie talkie intensified. "Hey!" He exclaimed, only proceeding to get no answer.
Two guards pulled Ford's shoulders back down to the ground and he lost his grip on his weapon. The guard held tight to the gun in his hand before tossing it behind him with force. The weapon slung across the air and smacked hard against the wall, leaving a dent just beside the lounge door.
Ford's eyes widened. "No!" He exclaimed, holding out a hand for only a moment before it was pulled back. He tried getting up from the other's holds on him to little avail. Their combined strength proved to be too much for him to successfully escape from.
The security man picked up the gun and inspected it. "Where'd you find this old thing?" He asked, looking down at it and moving into his break room, setting it on the table. Were he not impressed with the unique design he would have destroyed it. He came out of the room and locked the door behind him.
Ford wanted to go back for his weapon. He couldn't allow it to stay there, too many questions could be asked due to its origins from the multiverse. Multiple guards helped each other to drag Ford over to a nearby exit. He twisted and tugged, struggled and groaned, but his body was growing weak from the constant fighting. He cursed his age for making him physically weaker than he had been twenty so years back.
Ford was pulled through the door and thrown outside. The door quickly closed and made it so he couldn't get back in with the inconvenience of no handle. He groaned and quickly stood, banging his fist on the door and demanding to be let back in. He was met with the sound of footsteps growing quieter. Ford sighed. He had failed. His gun was confiscated, his radio taken away. What was he to do now?
It wasn't until he heard a familiar voice call his name from above that he had an idea of what to do. Ford looked up and saw Fiddleford up on the roof, beckoning him to join him. The scientist stretched his back before heading over to the ladder. He grabbed hold of the metal and climbed it, reaching the top and sitting beside his friend.
"Sneakin' around din' work out?" Fiddleford assumed.
Ford frowned. "There was a whole group of... I couldn't... they were just too strong." He muttered.
Fiddleford hummed and gave the other a pat on the shoulder. "Eh, no one expected ye' to take all of 'em." He tried.
"I did." Ford grumbled.
McGucket offered his friend a sympathetic look. "Ye' did the best you could, thas' what matters, right?" He asked.
"No." Ford replied. "Succeeding is what mattered."
"Doin' yer' best ta' help someone ye' care about is what matters the most." Fiddleford reasoned. "Now stay here and rest a while, ye' hear?"
Ford would have argued had he not been stunned into a silence. After a long pause he gave a hum. "I suppose so." He agreed at Fiddleford's way with words, though in his heart he kept being told that he could have done more. He just hoped his brother would pull through. It was all up to Stanley now.
Meanwhile, Chris walked alone in the hallway, unsure of where to go or where to look. He had no idea where Stan could be, nor Ford. He wondered if Fiddleford had gone back in. He just hoped that he would find someone he knew soon. It was dangerous to wander alone.
After a bit of walking he ended up reaching Bratsman's office. The sight of even the door was enough to worry him. One look at the explosion mark on the door reminded him that Ford had taken care of him. Out of curiosity, Chris slowly opened the door.
The door was opened and Chris was shocked to see his producer tied up to his chair and the desk, stuck exactly where he was with a handkerchief in his mouth to muffle his shouts. Bratsman caught sight of the blonde and his eyes widened.
"Woah." Was all Chris had to say.
Bratsman began an attempt to speak a bundle of words a mile a minute, Chris hardly understanding him. He raised an eyebrow and hesitantly proceeded towards his producer, removing the cloth from his mouth.
Bratsman coughed roughly before looking up at the smaller man. "Hey there stranger, ya' mind untyin' me? I'm completely innocent." He claimed.
Chris cringed at hearing him try to be friendly. He scowled. "No way!" He exclaimed. "After everything you've put us through?"
He was met with a glare from Bratsman. "I don't know what's goin' on here, kid, but if you don't untie me this instant I'll have all of you sued for what you're doing to sabotage my life!" He shouted.
Chris folded his arms and straightened his posture. "Look, it was your own fault for chasing after all of us in the first place. You brought back the wrong guy instead of bringing me, which leaves you with no one else to blame but yourself." He stated.
Bratsman was confused by this. He narrowed his eyes to get a better look at the blonde."Hang on..." He muttered, all before his eyes widened in shock. "Chris?" He cried out. "I locked you up!"
Chris shook his head. "No, you didn't," He replied. "That day in the forest when you went to collect us, you took the wrong guy with you." He informed.
"That's ridiculous." Ergman scoffed.
"Maybe," Chris admitted. He scowled at his old boss. "But it's also true." He said.
Just looking at the producer made his fists clench. He put his arms down beside himself so that they rested beside him. His fists proceeded to clench as he thought on about how much trouble and unfair things Bratsman had put him and his brother through. He wanted nothing more than for his brothers to live freely from him, and the fact that Bratsman had been able to take them a second time made his blood boil. Chris clenched his teeth together and glared at his producer, giving him a hard, singular slap across the face.
Bratsman was frozen for a moment all before giving a scoff in return, along with a chuckle. The blonde raised an eyebrow at the odd response. His cackling proceeded, which only upset Chris more and more as it went on.
"That it?" Bratsman teased, howling with laughter. Chris glared. "You go through all that trouble a' rantin' and you end off with a smack?" He asked before his laughter filled the room once more.
Chris gave a deep huff of breath and turned around, storming away and out of the room before he acted recklessly towards the man. He wasn't ready to cause a bigger fight. They still had yet to find Bill. For all he knew, they could be crunching on time. Perhaps they were already out.
"Great, more hallways." Stan grumbled under his breath. He turned a corner and looked around to see no security around him. He grinned and walked quicker. He hadn't been this way before. Perhaps it would be the key to finding Bill.
Stan kept looking and saw nothing but hallways and unnecessary turns. The place was starting to seem like a maze. How many rooms did the building need? How many hallways?
His radio played static to which he held it up closer to his face. He heard McGucket on the other line mumbling something to another person.
"Is he still in there?" He heard Ford ask his friend.
"I think," Fiddleford replied. "Stan?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm still around," Stan assured, though he brushed it off casually. "This parta' the building's like a damn maze." He grumbled. "Some help would be nice." He added in a bitter tone.
"Unfortunately I got kicked out," Ford said. "They've got security swarming around any entrance I could get to. And there seem to be people investing the room with the cage, so we can't sneak back in from there anymore." He continued.
Stan gave a wave of his hand. "Ah, I'll be fine." He assured. He turned a corner that he hadn't seen yet. He was taken by slight surprise. "I think I'm getting closer. You nerds stay where you are." He ordered. He turned his radio off to keep it silent and kept moving.
The hallway was straight forward with a small table with a vase of flowers halfway. The walls were a khaki color, the flooring wooden. Even with his faulty hearing the hallway seemed very quiet. The only sound he could sense nearby was his footsteps. This fact changed when his ears picked up the sound of lighter, quicker footsteps that got progressively louder. Stan sensed someone running up to him and turned around, holding a fist up and throwing it forward.
Chris cried out in alarm and ducked down, holding the back of his head. Stanley raised an eyebrow and rested his arms. He recognized the blonde when he looked up at him. The two met glances.
"Almost gave me a heart attack, blondie." Stan grumbled.
"Oh, sorry bro," Chris apologized. "I came to find one of you as quick as I could." He said.
Stan adjusted his glasses before asking, "Did anyone follow ya'?"
Chris shook his head.
"Good," Stan replied and turned around. Chris walked along beside him.
"What if Stanford found him already?" Chris asked as they continued on their way.
Stan gave a shake of his head in return. "He just happened to run into half the security guards in the whole damn building when they were on break. Too many of em' were there for him to prevent gettin' thrown out." He said.
Chris frowned. "So it's just us?" He questioned.
"Sure seems that way, don't it?" Stan answered with a roll of his eyes. Chris noticed the slightly passive-aggressive tone and put a hand on the con man's shoulder. Stan sighed. "All this trouble just ta' save the same psycho that nearly destroyed the world." He grumbled.
"Then why bother?" Chris asked. He knew his words were cruel, but he wanted to get on Stan's level for a moment.
"Well... mainly for Ford," Stan admitted. He scratched his back before continuing. "They've known each other for a long time. Friends, then enemies, then eventually friends again and... whatever they are now." He said.
Chris hummed. "That all seems a little odd." He admitted.
"I don't know how they worked things out," Stanley admitted. "But they've grown close, Bill actually does care about 'im from what I've seen, and I... really think Ford's in love with 'im." He said, furrowing his brows as the words he had originally thought to be unlikely slid off his tongue.
"Oh, definitely." Chris replied with ease, the answer taking Stan by surprise. "I don't think there's a friendly explanation to what happened my first day at that shack." He said.
Stan gave him a look. "What happened?"
"I spilt some tea on him by accident and hid under the bed covers down in that weird basement place," Chris began to explain. "He joined me after switching to a dry sweater and held me real close to 'im, reassuring me that it was okay." He said with a chuckle. "When he realized I wasn't Bill, he was furious." He added. And probably embarrassed. He thought.
Stan looked back at what was ahead. "Huh," He muttered, the information difficult for him to contemplate all at once. He looked back at Chris. "You're sure it wasn't coincidence?" He just had to ask.
"Oh yeah," Chris confirmed. He smiled all before giving a shiver. "And I still remember that glare he gave me crystal clear." He said. He met Stan's gaze and said, "Your twin bro cares about that dude a whole lot." He said.
"Must be why he wants him back so badly." Stan said, mainly to himself. "Heh, I guess as long as Bill doesn't try anything funny and those idiots make each other happy, I shouldn't be the one to get in the way." He said. Chris smiled at his understanding of the odd relationship. "Besides, I've definitely made worse choices in the love department." He said. The two shared a short laugh. They reached the end of the hall, then took a left. The moment they turned the corner they were met with the face of a security guard glaring at them. Past the guard they saw a metal door as opposed to a typical wooden one.
"What do you think you're doing here?" He asked, looking at the two. He took a second glance at the blonde and rubbed his right eye. "Wait just a minute- Deep Chris?" He inquired.
"Yeah, yeah, the guy's famous and all," Stan brushed off with a roll of his eyes. "I'm gonna need ya' to move outta' the way."
The guard's glare hardened. "If you think you're escaping with him, you're mistaken." Stan returned the glare while the guard took his radio out of his pocket. "One of the boys are still in the building! He's with a very old and wrinkly faced man." He said with a scrunched nose.
"Hey, this dude rocks those wrinkles!" Chris defended, pointing a finger at the stranger.
Stan facepalmed. "Not helping, Chris." He grumbled.
The security guard put his radio back in his pocket and pushed past Stan, locking arms with Chris and rushing off with him.
"Hey- stop!" Chris commanded.
"Sorry sir, we have to escort you back to your cage. Your brothers have all escaped and we can't lose you."
Chris tried to get out of the grip, but the guard proved stronger. He lost hope and released a sigh, looking over at Stan who held his arm out in unsureness.
"Y-You'll have to do this without me," Chris said to the older man. He reached to the side of his jeans with his spare arm and took off the ring of keys. Stan held out a hand as Chris threw the keys to him. "It's not that big one, but surely one of them will work!"
"How do we know this is the right room?" Stan asked, following the two for a moment.
"It is, I know it is," Chris assured. "There's no time to lose, anyone could come at any time!" He cried out all before the guard dragged him around the corner.
The guard had escorted him back towards his cage in only a couple of minutes, but before they entered the room, Chris hit the other's stomach and escaped from his hold. The guard scowled and reached for him, only for Chris to kick the stranger between his legs. He watched the security guard drop to the floor before escaping through the emergency exit. At the very least he wouldn't be locked back in a cage.
The cool air felt nice on the blonde's skin. Chris hurried off around the corner to the ladder and climbed up. After a moment he was met with the faces of the other two who had no where else to go.
Ford sighed at the sight of the younger. "You too?" He asked, moving aside so that Chris could sit beside him.
Chris gave a nod in response, gently kicking his legs and grasping the edge of the roof. "I got thrown out," He revealed. "But your bro's still in there. And he's real close too." He said.
"Well, as long as there's that." Ford muttered. "I just hope he's not in any danger."
Stan sighed. "Guess it's just me." He muttered to himself. He was the last one of their group left in the building.
He saw a fire alarm on the side of the wall and quickly activated it, causing a loud alarm and lights to go off. At the very least the action would help get any possible security guards off his trail. He turned his attention to the metal ring containing several different keys.
"Alright, which one of you suckers unlocks this thing?" He questioned, narrowing his eyes at the keys. He grabbed hold of the first one connected to the ring and put it in the key hole, not entirely surprised when it didn't work. He tried the second, third, fourth, and fifth, and none of them worked. As Stan continued on trying to get the door to unlock, he was faced with very little luck.
Stan got frustrated with the keys that were all failing him. He growled and threw the keys onto the floor, the flashing light coming from the ceiling shining against the keys. The alarm noise rung in his head and in the moment regretted pulling it. He bent down to pick the ring of keys back up all until he noticed another key towards the corner beside the door. He narrowed his eyes and picked it up, holding it towards his eyes.
"You'd better work." Stan threatened with a scowl. He stood up and put the key in the lock of the door, shocked when he heard a click. Stan grinned at his achievement. He looked forward to seeing the look on his twin's face when he told him about how for once his random outburst of frustration ended up being useful instead of destructive.
He took in a breath before hesitantly opening the door. The room was dark save for the slight daylight shining out the small excuse of a window. Stan looked around and noticed a man he could only assume to be Bill laying down on his stomach, face planted into the floor. Stan put the key in his pocket and shut the door behind him slightly so that the burst of light wouldn't be overwhelming. He made his way to Bill and took a knee beside him. Stan reached a hand out and gently shook his shoulder.
"Hey, wake up." He said, not sure how to start. Bill didn't respond and Stan shook him again. "Time to go, blondie." He proceeded.
Bill hid his face further down in his arms. "Leave me alone." He groaned.
Stan scowled. "Well, I guess if you'd rather stay here." He replied in a sarcastic manner.
The blonde recognized the voice and looked up from his arms to look at the intruder. His eyes widened for a short moment at the blurred image of a familiar figure. The light shining on the side of the man's head and blurred vision from his eyes resting on his arms made it hard for him to tell for sure.
"Six," Bill started. Though his confusion surfaced, he recognized some of Ford in the man's features.
"Nope," Stan said. "Ford ain't here. The idiot got kicked out." He clarified. Bill gave a random mumble that Stan didn't bother tuning in to. He turned Bill on his back. The blonde winced, but didn't complain. Stan put one hand under his neck, the other under his legs. He rose from the ground and held Bill in a bridal-style manner. The man's tiredness was obvious, and he was clearly weakened from being on his own for who knows how long exactly. Bill gave a shiver at the sudden contact from the warm human.
Stan turned the dial and pressed the button on his radio that was held by the arm underneath the other's legs. "You nerds can quit your worryin', i've got 'im here." He revealed.
He heard McGucket respond first. "Is everythin' alright in there?" He inquired. Before Stan could respond he heard the sound of Fiddleford being taken by surprise in the background, along with slight muffling and static of sound.
Ford ripped the radio out of Fiddleford's hands and held it in his own. "How is he? Is he safe?" He asked, his words frantic. Chris snickered at his panicky concern and Ford shot him a hard glare.
"Uh..." Stan started. He looked down at Bill to see him with that same exhausted expression, though he looked up and more alive at hearing the scientist's voice. Stan even caught a light whimper come from the blonde. "He's okay now, I guess. Just get to the car." The con man ordered. He wasn't ready to get into the blonde's condition just yet. Ford started asking several different questions at once, and Stan shut off the radio at the start of the fourth, dropping it to the floor and leaving it behind. Stan headed towards the door and kicked it open with his foot, stepping out into the hallway.
Bill cringed at the alarm that had become much louder, and the lights that were much more vibrant. He groaned at the obnoxious sound and light surrounding them so suddenly and buried his face into the man's chest. Stan looked down at him, taken aback by the action, but didn't have the heart to move him. Bill gave a soft moan after feeling the warmth of the other against his face and nuzzled further into him. Stan awkwardly continued on, his cheeks turning a faint pink color at the sudden contact. He shook his head and turned the corner, heading down the hallway.
"We went through a lotta' trouble to get ya'," Stan began. "Not to mention that we've had a stranger livin' in our house, McGucket's been fangirlin' over him, and Ford's been worried sick about you the moment he realized you were gone." He said. Bill chose not to respond, but he gave a slight smile at hearing of the scientist's concern for him.
A couple minutes passed without any words between the two. Stan figured Bill wouldn't be in any type or mood to chat. He just wanted to get the blonde to Ford quickly- surely he'd have much better methods for dealing with the smaller man. A part of him wondered just how Ford would feel that he had been the one who returned with Bill, and not him. Stan gave a short chuckle at the thought.
Eventually they entered the hall that hosted the boy's room and Bratsman's office. From the crack in the door Bratsman had caught sight of them. He shouted out to them and demanded their help. Bill groaned at the voice, scowling.
Stan stopped in his tracks and looked down at the other. "What?" He inquired.
Bill looked up, seeing that the lights were slightly less flashy in the hall with darker walls. He turned and looked at Bratsman's office, glaring. "Kill'm" He grumbled, knowing that if he wasn't in such a weakened state he would have ripped the producer to shreds.
"Oh, him?" Stan questioned. He gave a laugh. "Don't worry, Ford had his way with the jerk earlier. I'm sure he'll tell you all about it." He said.
Bill narrowed his eyes at the door with the bullet hole by the lock, but turned back to Stan. He was at least satisfied to hear the producer's begs and shouts as opposed to mockery. He swore that once he regained his usual energy he'd be back to give him what he deserves.
Stan passed by the room with the cage and opened the emergency exit at the end of the hall. They were relieved to hear the loud alarm slowly fading as the door shut behind them, the more relaxed early night sun hitting their view. Bill wasn't as exposed to the lighting compared to Stan.
The con man went the opposite direction of the way towards the ladder and headed out front. He stepped into the parking lot and noticed their car there with the others around it. Stan proceeded on towards the vehicle, though before he could reach it, Ford noticed him there outside with Bill in his arms and instantly ran up to his twin.
Stan stopped at seeing him run. "Geez, slow your roll there, Poindexter." He said with a roll of his eyes.
"There you are, Stanley. Give him here." Ford started, holding his arms out under the blonde. Stan scoffed at the welcome. He removed Bill from his own hold and handed him to his brother, folding his arms and looking away.
Ford looked down at the other in his arms and frowned as the weakened blonde nuzzled the side of his face into his chest. Ford gently stroked the exposed side of Bill's face with his thumb, seeing two bruises that had formed. His thumb gently grazed over one on the side of his face and released a sigh.
"Merlin, Bill, what did they do to you?" Ford questioned in a muttered tone, his eyes glossy.
Bill let his eyes open and he looked off into the distance. "It's... complicated." He softly replied. He glanced down at his jacket zipper, letting out a shaky sigh. "Let's just go." He said in nearly a whisper, his bottom lip giving off a slight quiver.
Ford didn't have to be told twice. He had caught the blonde's expression and was surprised to see Bill Cipher looking like he could potentially just burst into tears. The blonde tilted his head back slightly to stop any tears that dared to form in his eyes. He instead hid his face into the warmth of the other man's chest. He admitted to himself that it was more than pleasant to be back in the presence of Stanford.
Chris pulled Fiddleford aside at seeing the Stan's come up with Bill. He put a hand on McGucket's shoulder and smiled. "I want you to know that I really appreciate what you've done to help. Here and back at that shack." He said. McGucket gave a nod. "Honestly, without your help, I'm... not sure I woulda' seen my brothers again." He muttered, looking away for a moment. Fiddleford frowned and Chris looked back at him. "But you did what you could to help the ones you care about." He said with a smile. "Sounds like me."
McGucket gave a wave of his hand, "Aw, shucks. I jus' wanted y'all ta' be free again. Ye' don't deserve to be kept away like that." He said.
Chris offered him a warm smile. "Well, I guess not." He agreed. "Thank you, really." He said. McGucket gave a nod. Chris grabbed the bottom of his shirt and removed it from his torso, handing the garment to the other. McGucket gasped and hesitantly reached out his hand. Chris gave a laugh. "Go on man, take it." He said. McGucket took the shirt and held it in his arms. He would have fainted had he not kept himself up by leaning an arm on the car. He balanced himself and kept the shirt close.
"Y-Ye've always been my favorite, Deep Chris." McGucket said, squealing internally and grinning wide.
Chris returned the expression. "I know." He said, ruffling the top of the other man's head before heading off to join his brothers out in the forest. McGucket waited until his idol left before admiring the shirt. He hugged it tight and grinned.
"I'm never gettin' rida' this." McGucket squealed before rushing into the car. He took the passenger seat while Stan claimed the front. Ford had gotten himself and Bill inside the back, the door shut. Bill had chosen to let himself lay across the scientist's lap.
"You'll have to sit up and get buckled." Ford told the blonde.
Bill groaned in protest. "Don't make me." He pleaded.
Ford rested a hand at the back of Bill's head. "Bill, things like these are very important for your safety, especially when Stan's drivi-"
"Just hold me." Bill murmured, the side of his cheek rubbing against the six fingered hand. How he missed the warm, close contact with the scientist.
Ford gave a sigh. "Very well." He complied, wrapping his other arm around Bill and pulling him closer against him. Bill hummed at the warmth and snuggled close.
Stan noticed the blonde huddled close to his brother and rolled his eyes. "Barf." He called out in annoyance. Ford scowled at him, but accepted the bottled water that Fiddleford handed back to him. He unscrewed the cap, the bottle making a crinkle sound. Bill looked up and caught sight of the water. Before Ford could react the blonde took it from his hold and guzzled the water down his throat, the sweet feeling of liquid hitting his throat bringing him satisfaction. Ford cringed as Bill rapidly drank from the bottle, squeezing it as the water started to run out. When the bottle became empty he let it fall to the car's floor. Ford felt sympathy for his boyfriend who had clearly been deprived of liquid.
"All right idiots, let's go." Stan grumbled, starting up the car and pulling out of the driveway. Within moments they were on the road. Ford kept his boyfriend close as to keep him safe from rolling off of him if the car came to a stop. He allowed Bill to draw little circles with his index finger on his chest. It seemed to calm the blonde so he wouldn't dare stop him.
"Now that i'm a'thinkin' about it, what happened with Bratsman?" Fiddleford questioned.
Bill growled at the name and his finger turned into a ball that clenched part of Ford's sweater. Ford frowned and stroked his boyfriend's hair for a moment.
"He got taken care of," Ford answered which caused Bill's hand to unclench slightly. "I confronted him and put a gun to his head, which shut him up fast." He said. "Chris took his keys and I tied him up to his chair and his desk. He was completely helpless after that." He said with a slight smirk. He had been waiting to score some revenge on the stranger, and felt he had done a good job.
The information brought a smile to Bill's face. He too wanted nothing more but for the producer to suffer after all the trouble he had caused.
"In fact, he's still there by himself now." Ford added which Stan confirmed.
Bill gave a snicker and brought a hand up to Ford's cheek, giving it a couple of gentle pats. "That's my Fordsy." He murmured all before giving a yawn and passing out cold on the other man. Ford chuckled.
"Well when we get back you better let him rest," Stan told his twin. "I'm puttin' the rascal back to work tomorrow."
"What?" Ford hissed with a scowl. "No, no. I won't allow that to happen." He said. "Bill needs to regain his strength first. I'll be taking care of him tomorrow to make sure he's feeling better."
"Hard work'll get him going quick." Stan said.
"He's not working for you tomorrow, Stanley." Ford bellowed. "He'll be in my care, and that's final."
Stan rolled his eyes. "Fine." He complied with a grumble. He figured it was for the best that the two had each other after such a difficult week. If Ford got too overprotective over Bill though, Stan would make sure to tease him for it later. A silver lining to being short an employee for another day.
Well there's that! This was really long but I didn't want to have to make another chapter. Hopefully you all didn't mind that too much.
So, I guess you could count the next chapter to be like a sick fic? Except he's not exactly ill, just weakened a bit. It's a cute idea to have Ford taking care of Bill, even if he denies the help and care at first. We'll see.
I hope this chapter made sense. I know there was a lot going on, but I did my best to keep it orderly. Lots of planning went into this and I'm happy with the result. Stay tuned for some Billford cuteness in the next chapter!
