Towards the Sun

by Foil Candle

Ford follows his brother into the nightmare realm, and now it is a race against time for him to safely get them both out alive.

3. Chapter 3

Author's note: Whew. That was a lot of work. Anyways pinesinthewoods and myself hope that you really enjoy this chapter. Things are starting to get real 0_o

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"Perhaps I lack some foresight

But brother you were so right

Sure as the setting sun

You can't trust just anyone"

'Iscariot' - Walk The Moon

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The speaker sitting just above the elevator's doors gave a muted, scratchy beep, as the black arrow indicating their current floor finally slid to a stop on the number three. Like a submarine in deep and pressurized water, the metal frame around them reverberated with a long, low, and ominous groan as the elevator's descent ground to a halt.

"He doesn't want us down here." Stanley moaned up at his brother, and a beat later the small hands still gripping onto Stanford's pant leg tightened severely, to the point that they started pinching painfully at his skin. The older man just had time to shoot a half exasperated, half worried, look down at his twin before the elevator jerked to a stop and he was forced to reach out and steady himself on the wall.

"You mean the 'scary one'?" He asked gently, struggling a little to regain his balance. Stanley didn't say anything in response, and Stanford couldn't exactly read his expression while the boy's face was buried into his leg. But after a moment, he did at least receive a couple of nods. A small frown tugged at the corners of Stanford's mouth as he gave his twin a reassuring pat on the top of his head. "The elevator's just old and in need of some maintenance is all. I wouldn't read too much into the fact that it creaks here and there."

Still, The elder Pines twin couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief as the elevator reached its destination and the upward pull of the negative G-forces ceased. A few seconds later his stomach lurched back to it's rightful place in his gut instead of up near his lungs. Stanford couldn't really say that he was a huge fan of any kind of floating sensation. The little antigravity incident that had caused him to get sucked into his own interdimensional portal over thirty years ago had certainly made sure of that. Which, when he thought about it, was more than a bit ironic considering where he and the third of his brother he'd found wandering the mindscape were headed to now.

After a slight hesitation, the elevator's partially rusted doors began to sluggishly squeal open, and a razor-thin line of colorless light feebly streaked out into the heavy darkness at the bottom level of the basement. Gradually the glow from the compartment widened till it revealed a long rectangular section of the concrete ground below, but beyond that, the rest of the lab remained almost completely hidden. Even the lights that should have come from the various machines lining the walls were strangely absent, their usual whirling and puttering dead silent. In fact, the whole basement seemed so oppressively quiet that Stanford could hear his own pulse thrumming gently in his ears. Whatever distant buzzing of white noise filled the background of the rest of the mindscape seemed absent down here.

Stanford studied the strangely unyielding wall of gloom for another moment before his eyes gradually slunk down to his and Stanley's shadows framed by the box of illumination on the ground below. He gave the dark shapes a wary grimace as a chill started crawling its way up his spine like one of the centipede creatures made of ice that he'd encountered in dimension 27. Somehow the blackness of the lab around them seemed far more deep, intense, and solid than the shadows cast by their own bodies. More... aware, in a way. More real. A shaky exhale echoed loudly in the quiet as the older twin found himself struggling slightly to steady his nerves.

'Come on Stanford, there's no sense in letting your brother's anxiousness rub off on you.' He sternly admonished himself. His eyes slid back to the elevator's interior as he spared a glance at the boy partially hiding behind his leg and staring fitfully out into the darkness. Almost unconsciously Stanford placed a consoling hand on Stanley's small shoulders before looking back out at the basement himself. 'We can't really have both of us losing our heads, now can we. Besides, it's not like you haven't faced creatures of unimaginable power and scale while traveling through the multiverse before. Whatever it is that's down here in the heart of your brother's mindscape, there's no way it can be any worse than that.'

Confidence once more returning to him and putting a determined glint back into his eyes, Stanford took a bold couple of steps out of the elevator and Stanley, though a bit reluctantly, shuffled closely at his brother's heels. As soon as the younger boy crossed over the threshold and into the lab, the elevator behind the pair hummed to life once again. Its doors gave a slight rattle before drawing closed, and the small amount of illumination provided by the sallow light of the compartment disappeared. Both the brothers and their surroundings were instantly plunged into absolute pitch-blackness. If it hadn't been for the sudden return of the tugging sensation to his pant leg, and the small noise of distress that followed, Stanford might not have even been able to tell where his twin was in the dark.

After allowing a few seconds for his eyes to adjust however, Stanford did thankfully notice some small amount light softly reflecting off the smooth and slightly dusty surfaces of the lab's machines and equipment. Blue and very dim though it might have been as it shined through the small windows that separated the portal's testing area from the rest of the basement, it was still better than nothing at all. At the very least it allowed him to start inching towards the lab's central control console without immediately tripping over some of the twisted metal scrap and broken bits of glass that now glimmered faintly on the ground before him.

Giving the lab a good look around as he gingerly stepped over a partially torn metal barrel, it finally dawned Stanford that he wasn't entirely sure where he was supposed to be going down here, or what exactly he was meant to be keeping his eyes peeled for. His initial instinct had been to find the other two parts of his brother by simply calling out and hoping that one of them would answer back. But just as he'd opened his mouth to do so, it occurred to him that there was no way anything in the basement could have possibly overlooked their noisy entrance. If someone was down here with them, which must have been the case given the broken vending machine back up in the shack, then so far they were choosing not to greet the duo on purpose. Given that, he seriously doubted that he'd get any response by shouting out his brother's name save the echo of his own voice back at him.

Almost unconsciously Stanford tried to quiet his steps as he shuffled deeper and deeper into the darkness lab. The sudden realization that he and his small twin weren't alone there was making him feel… uneasy, compelling him to remain as silent and unnoticeable as possible. He was sure now. Something definitely was lurking around with them. Someone was observing their progress. But Stanford couldn't tell from where. The unsettling sensation that tended to wash over him whenever he was being watched didn't offer any kind of precise location to the whereabouts of its source. If anything, the strange presence seemed to press in from the dark on every side around the pair.

At that thought, Stanford's brows suddenly furrowed pensively. Could it be that… something like that was the case?

While it was true that people in the mindscape usually tended to appear however they actually looked in real life, Stanley's current condition made him a bit of a special case. His soul had been torn apart, and depending on where and how the split had occurred, the different pieces of him could have taken on any number of forms. The third of his brother that was clinging a little too closely to his leg and currently tripping him up was proof enough of that, as he'd taken the shape of a child. Stanford had assumed that the other two would also look somewhat like Stanley himself, but now that he really mulled it over he began to wonder if it was possible for them to have taken more… abstract forms. Like the darkness around them, for example.

It seemed unlikely, but then they were in the mindscape after all; a place only truly limited by one's imagination. Stanford couldn't help but mentally kick himself for not thinking to ask the younger boy more about what the other two looked like on the ride down. Though if he was correct, and it was one Stanley's fragments watching them from the surrounding darkness right now, then Stanford could pretty easily guess which one it was from the way his twin had described them earlier. The 'scary one' was indeed a pretty apt description for this one. He had no real idea what motivation this particular fragment could have for not speaking to them yet, but he doubted that his silence so far meant anything good.

The previously steady tempo of Stanford's heart started gradually increasing as he warily eyed the darkness around him, and after a moment's hesitation he blindly groped down to grasp at one of his brother's small arms. He'd meant it just as a precaution to make sure that they wouldn't get separated, unnecessary as it probably was given how tightly the boy was already latched onto him, but the action seemed to slightly alarm his brother more than anything. Stanley shot a nervous look back up at his older twin, the faint blue light reflecting eerily off his eyes and outlining the softness of this childlike face as he raised a questioning eyebrow. Stanford was about to offer him a whispered explanation, and maybe ask the boy a question or two as well, when a loud crunch suddenly rang throughout the entirety of the lab and stopped them both dead in their tracks. Stanford's breath caught in his throat, and he spared a second to internally curse at himself before lifting his foot slightly to glare at the mess of broken glass beneath him.

On the other side of the portal, Stanford's tendency towards paranoia had ended up saving his skin and allowing for narrow escapes from death more times than he could count, but in this case, it seemed to have proved more a distraction for him than anything else. Cautiously, he drew the offending foot back half a step while both of his younger twin's hands shot up from their position on his pant leg to fumble back for his own.

As the child attempted to gain a secure grip around his much larger palm, a burning weight from a sinister and wolfish gaze settled somewhere between Stanford's shoulder blades. His back abruptly stiffened, and the hairs on his neck stood on end as something akin to dread nestled itself uncomfortably in his gut like a handful of twitching spiders. Stanford couldn't help but clench his teeth together while he struggled to rein in his frayed nerves. After pushing a tense breath out through his nose, he boldly whipped his head around to peer behind them, his glasses flashing slightly in the faint blue light.

But as diligently and deeply as he stared into the almost tangible inky darkness, he couldn't actually make out anything in the dim lighting. Not immediately, anyway. The absence of something else that was supposed to have been there, however, all but confirmed his suspicion that someone was indeed standing just behind the pair. The slight glimmer of pale blue light that reflected off from the rest of the lab's machinery wasn't doing the same to the shiny metal of the elevator's closed doors.

In its place was an unnatural, unsettling, and edgeless black void; the kind of absolute darkness found at the very bottom of an ocean floor littered with the decomposing carcasses of dead whales. And what was more, was that a strange and poisonous awareness seemed to be emanating from the very center of that blackness.

The abyss was staring back.

"Who's there?" Stanford snapped out hoarsely, his unease finally getting the better of him. He waited for a moment, but just as he'd previously suspected would be the case, nothing answered him back. The darkness behind them didn't even twitch. "Are you part of Stanley?" He tried again a beat later, eyes fixing on the absence of light and searching it intently for any distinguishing features.

For a few seconds it seemed as though Stanford was simply going to get the same results as he had before, but to his surprise, he did actually receive a response to his question this time around. It just wasn't from his intended target.

"He's toyin' with us." Stanley's whispered voice timidly carried up to his brother. Stanford slipped his gaze away from the dark void near the elevator and back to the younger boy still holding his hand in a vice-like grip. Unlike himself, Stanley didn't seem to have any intention of looking back at who was standing behind them and instead kept his eyes firmly planted forward to the small window just above the desk and portal console. "Tryin' to talk to him probably isn't gonna lead to anything good." He continued, attempting to tug the older man forward a little. "Let's just focus on findin' the other one, ok. If he's feelin' better then he can deal with this guy."

"If… that's what you think would be best." Stanford relented after a moment. He spared one last glance over his shoulder at the dark space behind them before reluctantly taking his brother's advice and ignoring that problem for now. He couldn't quite rid himself of the tension still coiling uncomfortably around his shoulder blades. "Do you have any idea where the last third of you might be down here?"

Stanley didn't answer him back at first, causing Stanford to shoot a questioning look down at the boy. His twin's were brows were furrowed pensively as he stared up at a clear spot at top of the desk, and Stanford studied it for a moment as well in an attempt to figure out what had caught his brother's attention. But if something was strange or amiss about the area then it wasn't obvious at all to him. He couldn't recall it looking any different than this back in the normal world. Stanley apparently didn't agree, and after a slight hesitation, his grip on Stanford's hand released itself. The boy walked a few steps ahead of his brother towards the desk before proceeding to climb up onto the chair in front of it.

"What are you doing?" Stanford whispered sharply, the corners of his mouth drawing down in a mixture curiosity and impatience.

"Just… fixing something" Stanley responded after a beat. He started brushing away at some of the debris that were cluttered haphazardly on the console's surface.

Pens, papers, broken glass, and other such items, fell to the floor in a series of noisy flutters and clacks that made Stanford's face screw up in a wince. The older man shot a wary look behind them, but oddly enough, whatever had been glaring at the pair from the darkness before remained subdued and didn't try to mess with them again. For what reason, Stanford couldn't even begin to guess. Eventually, Stanley set aside a very heavy looking book, 'A Beginners Guide to Theoretical Physics' Stanford managed to read as the cover gleamed for a second in the dim blue light, before he appeared to find what it was he'd been searching for underneath. Stanford's brow rose an inch as he peered down at the small dented picture frame his twin was now gently picking up from the desk.

A pristine photograph of their niece and nephew was contained inside. The children were grinning brightly, and making a silly face back at the camera in Mabel's case. Stanley gave a weary and dejected sigh that didn't match the rest of his ten-year-old body as he traced his fingers across the shattered glass of the frame. He glanced back over his shoulder and sent the darkness behind them a look that Stanford could only describe as disappointed, before shaking his head slightly. Clambering a little further onto the desk, the young boy blew away some of the dust that had collected on the top ledge before carefully propping the photo there. He stared at it for a moment, an unnervingly tired but still very genuine smile growing on his face.

"Stanley, we don't have time for something like this right now." Stanford scolded in exasperation as he tried to hurry the boy along. "The mindscape is collapsing, remember? We need to find the last part of you so I can figure out a way to fix you up."

Stanley looked back at his brother with slightly glassy eyes. "Yeah, I-I mean sorry I-" He began apologizing before abruptly cutting himself off. Something out of the corner of the boy's eye seemed to catch his attention, and he quickly turned his head back around to glance at the lab's observatory window. He blinked a couple of times in surprise, and then hesitantly raised a small shadowy finger to point at something sitting beyond in the portal's main chamber. "I-I think that… Is that him over there?"

Stanford stiffened at the question and took the hint to stare through the dingy glass himself. The first thing he noticed in the area beyond was the jagged triangular monolith of the interdimensional portal, looming at the end of the room like the fallen form of a cold and colossal giant. It was hard not to be drawn to it, given that the softly glowing constellations on its inner ring were what had been providing the rest of the basement with its dim blue lighting. A rush of goosebumps started to crawl their way up Stanford's arms as his memories summoned the breath of clammy air that the portal always exhaled the first few seconds after it was turned on. The chilling draft ghosting across his skin was accompanied by the smell of burning ozone, and a strange tingling sensation that raced through his fingers as though the air was filled with invisible electricity. The older man couldn't help but let out a world-weary sigh as he looked out at the ruined sum of his grandest project, and greatest folly.

Even as it was now in his brother's mindscape, partially wrecked and half collapsed in a pile on the ground like it had been when he'd first returned to Gravity Falls from his thirty-year exile, it's carcass still held an almost unearthly and imposing magnificence to it. One that spoke of distant worlds, lost alien technologies, realities beyond the scope of human imagination, and the hidden depths of the deceptively empty looking spaces between the stars.

Stanford allowed his eyes to trace across the sharp and curving slopes of the metal that he and Fiddleford spent so many sleepless nights welding together, with calloused and ink-stained hands, before his brows furrowed as he noticed something out of place in the wreckage. A dark shape seemed to be suspended in the center of the portal's radiant, star engraved inner ring. He squinted slightly, studying the oddly shaped shadow for a moment and attempting to peer past the glare of the machine's blue light reflecting off the slight haze of mist in the large chamber. His first impression was that it was simply more loose bits of rubble or debris, but given that this seemed to be what the younger version of his brother had been pointing to he reasoned that it had to be more significant than that. After another moment of pensive staring, it finally hit Stanford like a glass of ice water what it was he'd been looking at. It wasn't an object that was limply hanging there, but someone's silhouette. A broad-shouldered man appeared to have been strung up by his arms and was now being mockingly displayed like a trophy in the very eye of the portal. Stanford's eyes widened even further as he noticed the faint blue light reflecting off the figure's shock of silvery hair.

"There he is! Come on!" Without waiting to hear a confirmation Stanford slammed the button to force the lab door open and rushed into the portal's main testing area. His feet thumped strangely against the surprisingly soft stone of the ground below, echoing loudly throughout the chamber as he tore across it. But Stanford didn't allow himself to become concerned with that oddness. Almost all the previous caution and apprehension that he'd felt during his descent to the basement before were forgotten as he focused his sights on the unnervingly still man hanging just beyond. The younger version of his brother made a small noise of protest at his twin's sudden departure before quickly hopping off the desk and following at the older man's heels.

"Stanley, Stanley!" Stanford called out, hoping that this part of his brother was still well enough to respond. The elder Pines' mind was racing furiously as he sprinted across the portal's near pitch black chamber. Hadn't the boy mentioned something about not being able to wake this third fragment up? Why was that? What had causing his unconsciousness? And was that going to hinder his brother from fusing together once more-

Stanford's train of thought abruptly cut off as he spied something, someone, looming ominously in the darkness between him and the mechanical ruins that contained the final third of his brother. The 'scary one', Stanford barely had time to conclude before he and his small companion were brought to a skidding halt by the portal's engines inexplicably firing up. The four curricular warp drive generators sparked noisily for a few seconds before blazing to life in twin bolts of translucent lightning, and a pair of brilliant white columns erupted on either side of the brothers. Both cried out in surprise as the darkness of the chamber was burned away in a flood of harsh light that temporarily blinded them, and it was all that Stanford could do not to trip over the boy behind him as he involuntarily stumbled backward a few steps.

"What the-" Stanford growled as reached up under his glasses, rubbing his eyes in a vain attempt to more quickly clear his now splotchy vision. He felt Stanley's small hands grab tightly onto his pants a moment later.

"Ford, look out!" The younger boy whispered almost shrilly, desperately trying to tug his brother back even further. Stanford allowed himself to be pulled along for a few steps before resisting as he finally removed his hands from his eyes.

Though the large chamber was still quite dim when compared to something like daylight, still partially hidden by an unnatural foggy darkness that coiled about the distant walls and ceiling, the glow emanating from the paired columns of the portals warp drive generators had actually brightened the surrounding area significantly. Stanford couldn't help but grimace as he was finally able to get a good look at the figure who was now separating him from his brother's last fragment hanging in the eye of the portal. The absolute blackness of the silhouette had now pulled back to reveal the person who was responsible for the wreckage that had once been a functional vending machine and a secret door to the basement. The shadow that had previously taunted him and the younger Stanley while they'd been wandering through the darkness of the lab. The second third of his twin's soul. The 'scary one'.

Stanford's apprehension spiked in a way that he'd only ever felt when looking at something he knew to be lethal; a level ten poltergeist, a plunge off a steep cliff face, and the barrel of a loaded plasma rifle, to name a few.

At first glance, he appeared to look somewhat like the actual Stanley, vaguely. At least, as far as Stanford could tell. Despite the fact that the second fragment was now standing even more fully in the light than the room's other three occupants he was somehow still the most difficult to see clearly. Inky black shadows marred his body in stark hues that defied the lighting of the chamber around them and clung unnaturally to his form like a second skin. They writhed and twitched every now and then as though the shade itself possessed a will of its own. There were a few things about his appearance, however, that Stanford was able to make out even with the man's features partially obscured by the darkness. He was undoubtedly older than the child currently huddling behind the elder Pines' legs, for example. Though, exactly how much older was something Stanford had a bit more trouble pinpointing. It could have been one decade just as easily as it could have been five. While the fragment appeared to possess the same dark suit and shock of silvery grey hair that belonged to Stanley in the present day, his face was as young and unlined as that of a twenty-year-olds, and it had the effect of making him eerily ageless. Like a perfectly pristine relic from centuries long past, or a rusty piece of brand new machinery.

But even that wasn't the most disturbing thing about the man. No, the slight ringing of alarm bells in Stanford's skull had a lot less to do with the way this second third of his brother looked, and more with the manner in which he wore those looks. From the way he rested his hands lightly on the top of his eight-ball cane, to unconcerned slouch of his shoulders, to the indifferent tilt of his head, this version of Stanley seemed to practically radiate an air of confidence and control. Stanford found that in and of itself to be an uncanny thing to see on any form of his twin; not so much because Stanley didn't usually try to project such an image of self-assurance to the people around him, but because it had never actually come across as this genuine before. As disconcerting as the shadowy fragment's body language was, the expression on his face was even worse. He had a cruel, taunting smirk plastered across his jaw that promised him to be the sort of man who delighted in causing pain; who savored the thrill of revenge.

And his eyes… there was something behind the tempestuous black boiling in his eyes that seemed even larger than the man himself; something that seemed to summon the darkness around him like the towering waves of an ocean in a hurricane cast shadows into its own depths. There was deep and festering bitterness of long unattended wounds in those eyes. Feverish, scathing, senseless, rage that incinerated logic and reason till they were bright cinders of ash. Hatred, overwhelming, persistent, absolutely ruthless hatred; the kind that spits skin and tears flesh.

In short, this fragment looked like a Stanley that Stanford could only have imagined existing in his absolute worst nightmares. A monster in human skin.

"Hey there." The disdainful smile had not left the shadowy man's face as he now spoke to the pair for the first time since they'd come down to the basement. An orange glow burned within his ebony eyes as he gazed at Stanford with an unsettling evenness.

"H-hello," Stanford greeted uncertainly. He once again felt small hands tighten around his leg, and heard a scared whimper, but he couldn't spare a glance down at the Stanley behind him. All of his attention was fixated on the phantom that stood before him.

"What's the matter, Ford? Ya look a little spooked?" There was a gleeful edge to the fragment's voice, as if he found this prospect an amusing joke.

"I… you just surprised me, that's all," Stanford managed to reply without giving away how ill at ease he felt. So this was the infamous 'scary one' that the child hiding behind his legs was so terrified of. Stanford couldn't exactly blame him for his earlier reluctance and apprehension. His shadowy counterpart exuded a menacing energy that reminded Stanford of those pine trees he'd seen when first entering the mindscape. A foreboding dark sentinel that watched his every move. Stanford attempted to once again wrap his head around this entity being part of his twin, but his musings were cut off abruptly as Stanley continued to speak.

"Did I surprise you? Oops. My bad! Here, let me give you a proper introduction." Stanley cleared his throat dramatically and then spread his arms wide in a similar manner to a ringmaster at a circus.

"Welcome to my Mindscape, Ford." He bellowed, voice bouncing sharply throughout the large chamber. "A land of wonder and enchantment!"

At his command the shadowy fog raced down from the walls of the room, pulling itself across the ground toward Stanley as though he were drawing back a black shroud. They bunched up and boiled there at his feet, and the dim gloom around the chamber was released from the writhing mass of darkness that had bound its edges earlier. Stanford blinked and glanced around at the newly revealed interior of the basement. It was all… well, it was wooden. The floor, the walls, the ceiling; scorched wood had replaced all the previously hollowed out stone. It took Stanford another few moments to recognize exactly where they were before it hit him with a slight sickening lurch in his stomach. They were standing within the burnt, skeletal remains of the Stan O'War, the very hull of the ship now exaggerated to far larger than life proportions.

A far cry from the one filled with childlike nostalgia in the mindscape outside of the shack, this one was decimated and charred beyond repair. Ashen flakes dusted upwards in the gloom, creating a smokey haze. Planks of blackened, iridescent wood were scattered haphazardly, splintering off from the ship, and charcoal smeared across the ground like gray dusty blood. Parts of the ship were straight up missing, and Stanford could only see an inky-black nothingness beyond. If the condition of the ship wasn't disconcerting enough, Stanford recognized old childhood toys melded into the walls from the heat of whatever previous blaze had destroyed the rest of the hull. A flood of unbidden memories washed over him as he took in the hauntingly disfigured objects that hadn't crossed his mind in decades. Stanley's favorite stuffed animal, a noodly creature of unidentified species named Goober, who's pink fur was now brittle and scorched black. What melted plastic remained of his own view-master; he remembered spending hours flicking through pictures of intrepid space-explorers and imagining himself as one. Boxing gloves, their childhood fort, various treasures found during expeditions on the beach, all of them were half-melted into the wall, singed and distorted to the point of barely being recognizable. Stanford felt vaguely repulsed and acutely distressed, as if the sight before him was similar to viewing disemboweled road-kill.

"Wow, for once you're not runnin' that know-it-all-mouth of yours. What's wrong, not what you were expecting?" The Stanley in front of him chuckled and leaned lazily on his eight-ball cane, waiting for a reply from his brother, but it was the small one who answered in a hushed, horrified voice.

"What… what did you do?"

"Eh." The second fragment raised a mocking brow as his gaze slid down to the distraught child who'd peeked out from behind Stanford's legs. "It's a wonder that Pipsqueak made it here too. Given how he usually acts, I thought he was just gonna sit out there cryin' for at least another couple 'f hours. Then again, it is kinda hard to tell how time passes in a place like this. Maybe it's been longer than I thought."

"I…" Stanford's fists balled almost unconsciously as he finally managed to get ahold of himself, shaking off his clinging sense dread. "H-how much time has actually passed is irrelevant. We've been here for far too long as it is! Listen, I've already explained the situation to this, um-younger version of you," He waved a hand down to indicate to the boy. "but the mindscape is a purely individual-based system of reality. It isn't made to hold more than one consciousness at the same time, in the same pocket, and that's why everything around us is so badly degraded and continuing to come apart at an alarming rate. We have to quickly find a way to fuse you back together so that we can both imagine a doorway out of here before this entire existence collapses in on itself and kills us!"

The second third of Stanley shot his twin a cool look as he drummed his fingers on the top of his cane, seemingly uninterested in this piece of information."Yeah, I already figured as much." He hummed dully.

A few moments passed where nobody moved. Stanford raised his brow before impatiently gesturing between the three pieces of his brother. "Well… then what are you just standing around for?" He snapped. "Let's get you fixed up so we can get out of here!"

The smirk on Stanley's face grew and he began to snicker darkly. The cheerless sound reverberated within the hollow wooden walls of the ship and sent an uncomfortable chill crawling down Stanford's spine. "Oh, that's rich!" He exclaimed after his sarcastic amusement had died down slightly, eyes glinting with an almost threatening light. "'Let's get you fixed up', he says! The fact that I've gone through all the trouble of tying my other self up really hasn't tipped you off yet, huh? Aren't you supposed to be a genius or somethin'? Or maybe you're just not paying real close attention." A cruel sneer slowly appeared on his face, and he rocked back on his heels waving a hand absently toward the portal. "Why don't'cha take a closer look at him and see how he's doing."

The second fragment jerked his head to the chained form suspended within the eye of the portal, and for a brief moment as he turned Stanford caught sight of the sigil on his shoulder pulsating with a bright orange light. Biting the inside of his cheek a little as he forced his eyes from the glowing reminder of his brother's accidental branding thirty years ago, he raised his gaze upwards to the captive figure. Now that he'd been given more illumination than merely the dim blue gleaming of the portal, there was just enough light for Stanford to observe the details he'd missed before.

The elder Pines twin couldn't help but let out a sharp hiss through his teeth as he took in the current condition of Stanley's final fragment. His head was bowed against his chest, still clearly unconscious, while the rest of his limp body hung suspended by several lengths of dark chain wrapped tightly around his wrists and shoulders. Stanford could now see ugly bruises on his face, and shining splashes of fresh blood matting his silver hair. His suit was torn in numerous places as though a knife had cut through the fabric. And he was pale, far too pale, a washed-out bloodless hue that gave the appearance of an ashen death mask. As Stanford stared longer he realized the reason. His body seemed to be gradually fading to monochrome, the color draining to black and white like the rest of his mindscape.

But, that didn't make any sense. This was still Stanley, even if it was only a third of him. This was partially his mind. How could he be dissolving away into the background of his own mind? That shouldn't have been possible, not unless… unless he was…

Stanford found his eyes being inexplicably drawn to Stanley's chest, and once he saw what was there a chilling dread kept him from looking away. The cracked Y that Stanford had seen before in the nightmare realm was still stretched jaggedly across his sternum, and its orange glow pulsated in time with his sluggish heartbeat. The fiery glare of the wound sharply contrasted the monochrome of the rest of his body and was now no longer strictly contained within Stanley's chest. It was as if a fissure had broke at the core of the earth sending an almost molten substance bleeding from the long gash. Bright, lava-like drops steadily splashed onto the floor far below.

The sheer brutality of the sight left Stanford reeling. Nausea rising up once again, he brought a hand to his mouth and whirled to the being in the room who he knew had something to do with this, to demand an answer for the violence so sickeningly on display.

"Wh-what's happened to him?!" Stanford questioned harshly, and then attempted to storm past Stanley's darker fragment without waiting for an answer. Stanford's way was barred as the figure slipped in front him as easily as a cast shadow, the orange glow from his eyes seething. He twirled his cane threateningly, the tip striking the wooden ground with a steady clack, clack, clack, as if daring Stanford to take another step forward. After Stanford was stopped in his tracks, fists clenching to his sides, the sardonic smile returned to this Stanley's face. He continued to steadily twirl his cane.

"I happened to him."

"I-I don't…" Stanford's nails bit into the skin of his palms as his mind raced with possible explanations. Deep down he realized that there was no way he would get past this unrelenting grim warden without a fight. But as much as it pained him to see the part of his brother that had apparently taken the brunt of Bills attack wasting away like that, he couldn't risk getting into a major scuffle here and now. Not with the way the mindscape was already crumbling down around them. Jostling this pocket any more than necessary would only hasten their demise. Whatever was going on here, he needed to reason his way out of it.

"Why?!" Stanford demanded after a moment.

"Hm. I kinda thought that you'd be able to figure that out on your own." Stanley's second fragment groused, finally bringing his cane to a sharp halt on the wood. "Do I really have to explain everytin' to ya?"

"Unfortunately being a genius doesn't grant me the ability to decipher madness." Stanford snapped back. "No, I don't understand what's going on here, because nothing that you're doing here makes any sense in the slightest! Unless…"

"Hm, this should be interestin'," Stanley raised an eyebrow and glanced down at his shaking younger version. "Whadya think pipsqueak, wanna take a bet over what idiotic phrase comes out of poindexter's mouth next?" When he got no response Stanley rolled his eyes in irritation. "You're really no fun anymore. Anyways Stanford, don't keep me waitin'. I'm on pins and needles here. Unless what?"

"Unless you're not actually a part of Stanley." Stanford concluded, eyeing the man in front of him coldly. "I thought it was possible, but now I'm almost sure. You're one of Bill's pals from the nightmare realm that's somehow followed us into the mindscape, aren't you? Why else would you be so intent on destroying my brother? You ripped him in two when we first entered, and now you're taking revenge on him for the fact that he's ruined your chances of conquering our dimension." Stanford took a bold step forward, the previous coldness of his even gaze suddenly plunging straight into a frigid fury. "Admit it!"

The younger of Stanley's fragments slapped his face in exasperation, looking everything like a fed-up teacher. His shadowy counterpart let out an unearthly howl of laughter, bent over, clutching his sides as if Stanford had just told the funniest joke he'd heard in a while. Stanford's head swiveled and he glared between the two of them, frustrated confusion creeping into his features.

"Ford I already told ya that he was part of me. They both are. Weren't ya listenin' earlier!" The child reprimanded, stamping his foot in annoyance.

"But… but that…." Stanford rubbed his temples, something cold and sick crept into his stomach. "How can-That doesn't make any sense! Why would he-"

"Seriously? Don't tell me that ya actually expected the great and infallible Stanford Pines to ever look to you as a credible source of information." Stanley crowed, still holding his sides from laughing. "Did ya, crybaby? Ha! Even when the subject in question is yer own mind, the only person's opinion he still even considers remotely reliable is his own. But that shouldn't really surprise ya. You know just as well as I do how much he looks down on us; how little he thinks we're capable of."

His laughter died down to a seething, wicked smile. "Then again, one of the best weapons that your enemy can hand you is to underestimate ya. I think our little scuffle with Bill proved that true enough."

Stanford's mouth took a few seconds to catch up with his whirling mental processes. "You can't… H-how can you be part of my brother-" His mind suddenly flashed back to the moment this entire mess had begun, the moment that Stanley shook hands with Bill; the orange energy that had passed to his brother, the glow that now seeped from the wound on his chest, and the burn on his back. "The… symbol glowing on your shoulder." He tried, struggling to shake off his growing unease. "It's leaking the same energy that you absorbed from Bill. It's- You're acting this way because of that!"

"Oh, this?" Stanley turned slightly and jabbed a thumb at the dimly glowing brand. "Well, the deal I made did have some side effects, but it's nothin' I can't handle. Besides, did ya really think that I was gonna just let all that excess power I stole from stupid floatin' corn chip go to waste? Especially now that I have a couple 'f targets for it!" His gaze fell away from the pair in front of him down to his hand, and he gave the appendage a deliberate flex. "Heh. I'm kinda curious to see what it can do actually. Once I get the hang of it…"

"Stanley, you can't!" Stanford insisted sharply, attempting to non-threateningly creep forward another couple of inches. "This isn't you; this is Bill. This is his doing! When you absorbed all that energy from him… I-It must be affecting or controlling you somehow! It's making you sick!"

The spiteful grin now faded from Stanley's face, and his expression twisted into something bitter, an almost pitying condescension. "You really don't know me at all, do ya poindexter?" He grumbled lowly.

It was the same phrase that the younger Stanley had spoken up in the shack, mirrored almost perfectly back. An icy dismay began to slowly seep into Stanford's bones.

Stanley sighed dramatically, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "Trying to duck responsibility and blame others for the mess you've made, eh? That's so typical of you. It's just energy. It doesn't control me; I control it! Just accept it, Stanford." A sharp grin plastered itself on the shadowed man's jaw again, somehow both angry and delighted at the same time; vicious and accusatory. "This has nothin' to do with Bill, and everything to do with you."

"I… I don't…" Stanford floundered as he unconsciously gave into the younger Stanley's continuing efforts to pull him further back. He dug his heels in and resisted after a couple of steps, gaze still fixed on the dark figure in front of him. "But if you're a part of-then that's you!" He finally snapped. His eyes were bright with confusion and outrage as he waved wildly up at the figure hanging in the eye of the portal. "That's part of you up there that you've chained up and nearly beaten to death! Are you insane?! Why would you be trying to destroy part of yourself?! That doesn't make any sense!"

"Oh, I'm making perfect sense." Stanley barked back just as heatedly. His grip on the cane tightened to the point where his knuckles cracked, and his pupils blazed with a scathing energy from within the shaded hollows of his eyes. "In fact, I'm usually the only one around here who makes any sense at all! And now that I'm finally free from bein' underneath his thumb all the time, what makes you think that I would ever want to go back to existin' as a part 'f this worthless failure again!"

With that, the corner of Stanley's mouth twitched upward as he suddenly tossed his cane up in the air and caught it nimbly at the metal tip of the end. In an instant his shadowed body flickered away from the spot directly before the pair, only to reappear on top of the wreckage in front of the portal half a second later.

He didn't even bother shooting a look back at the limp body of his counterpart. Glowing eyes still fixated relentlessly on Stanford, he proceeded to pointedly draw his arm back. Stanford's breath hitched as he realized what the man meant to do, but he didn't even have enough time to cry out in protest before he savagely whipped the cane around. The heavy eightball atop struck at the unconscious man's head with a loud, resounding crack, causing his neck to abruptly snap to the side, and Stanford's own neck twinged in sympathy as he sharply flinched back. His stomach couldn't help but give a squirm as he watched his brother's bloody spit gleam in the soft blue light as it spattered wildly from his slack jaw onto the metal below.

A moment of breathless quiet passed between the four occupants of the room as three of them waited for some kind of reaction to the assault; waited for the man hanging in the portal to wake up and put a stop to all of this, or to fight back against his fragment's brutality. But save for the metal of the ruined portal giving a slight groan, nothing happened. The older man's eyes remained closed, and his color stayed dull. His head lifelessly rolled back down to his chest, and his slightly labored breathing echoed loudly in the silence of the chamber. The shadowed duplicate seemed to admire his own handiwork for a second or two.

"See, what'd I tell ya. Pathetic isn't he." Stanley murmured, the slouch of his back unreadable. Incrementally, he began to turn his head around to stare over his shoulder at the pair behind him. The glowing symbol on his back gave another lurching pulse, revealing the vindictive smile cracked across his shaded face. "Tell me, Stanford." He snarled. "Has it occurred to you even once in that big stupid brain of yours that I just don't like my other halves very much? Huh? Do ya ever pay attention to the feelings of anyone but yourself!?" He finally turned himself all the way around, eyes blazing somehow more furiously than ever despite his apparent victory.

Stanford stared dumbstruck, too stunned to say anything. It didn't make any sense to him that one of his brother's fragments would be capable of something like this. Did this second third even understand the implications of what he was doing, the destruction he was causing to himself? And if he did what did that mean for…

Stanley's younger version peeked out from behind Stanford's leg, looking up at him almost expectantly, hoping perhaps that the older man would have some plan, or idea up his sleeve that could fix this situation. But the elder Pines twin was at a complete loss. He couldn't even manage to tear his horrified gaze away from the two other pieces of his brother on the wreck in front of him. He'd seen a lot of terrible things during the decades he'd spent wandering the multiverse; atrocities that would've probably turned most other people's hair white, or driven them straight off the deep end if they'd been forced to ponder the moral implications for too long. But this was different. This was… this was his brother; his twin brother, and just that thought alone made something in Stanford's chest tighten painfully. Yes; he'd been paying attention when the boy had informed him of the fighting between the fragments, but this was… worse than he'd anticipated. Far worse. Even now he was still struggling to believe that the shadowed man could actually be a part of his brother and not some other enemy that had secretly slipped in with them.

"No. I didn't think so." Stanley sneered down at his twin a few moments after his earlier taunt went unanswered.

The younger fragment earnestly watched Stanford for a few more seconds before it finally got through to him that his twin had no intention of offering up any form of rebuttal. His eyes fell away from the older man in disappointment, and his mouth turned down to a determined frown as he deciding to take matters into his own hands. Stanley took a shaky breath, and then timidly shuffled few small steps out from behind the leg he'd been previously using as a shield. Big brown eyes hesitantly locked with the scorching ones of the shadowed man standing above him, and his voice trembled slightly as he spoke up to him. "P-please stop. Just stop this. I… I just wanna go home. Don't you?"

The second fragment gave a dismissive snort before rolling his eyes in irritation. "Shut your yap crybaby! We don't have a home anymore, remember? That selfish, backstabbing scum you're sniveling behind made sure of that. Twice! And the dumb bastard behind me is just letting it happen! Come the end of summer we're goin' to go right back to livin' out on the streets again." Stanley's bitter smile grew even wider as he readjusted his cane and gave the metal ring behind him a sharp kick. "Doesn't that sound fun."

"Please." He tried again, eyes nervously trailing away to some other corner of the room while he mumbled on. "I know that you're angry but-"

"Oh, and how many times have I told ya to quit it with all that 'please' garbage?" Stanley interrupted abruptly, already growing tired of his younger counterpart's appeal. "The answer is TOO DAMN MANY! Do you have any idea how pathetic ya sound begging like that? As if ya weren't already enough of a whiny little waste 'f space-"

"Don't speak to him like that." The older Pines twin bit out more sharply than he'd intended, finally snapping out of his shock-induced stupor. He moved in front of the younger version of his brother to once more put a barrier between the two, and Stanley's smaller fragment gave him a grateful look. Stanford didn't have the nerve to return it. He wasn't sure yet how he was going to solve this situation; if it was even possible to force someone back together when part of them was refusing to do so and outright harming the other pieces of themselves. He seriously doubted that he'd be able to reason with Stanley's unrestrained fury, but with the mindscape's current condition he didn't want to risk getting into a fight either. He had to try, at least.

"Lets… lets all just calm down here, alright?" Stanford placated as he tilted his chin up to sternly address the second fragment. "Now Stanley, you're clearly not understanding the gravity of this situation. I know that things between us haven't exactly been great since I came out of the- Well, I suppose even before that…"

Stanford couldn't help but let out a frustrated sigh as he pushed away the beginnings of something that might have been remorse or regret before forcing himself onward again. He fixed his stare coolly back into the shadowed man's opposingly heated expression, trying his best to keep his own emotions under wraps. "Look, I can see why your feelings might be a little… mixed at the moment. But we don't have time for this kind of arguing right now! I promise that we can discuss everything that's bothering you in detail later, but right now you have to pull yourselves together or else we're both going to die in this crumbling pocket dimension!"

"Yeah." The second fragment agreed dryly. "That's just too bad, isn't it?"

It was the response that Stanford had been half expecting, but that didn't mean he had to like it. "Are-are you even listening to what I'm saying!" He snapped back, glasses flashing in his rising aggravation.

"Hmmm."

For a few moments, an uncomfortable silence stretched between the four, and every second that ticked by chilled Stanford's glare until it was absolutely raw and frigid. "You… you don't care that you're killing us, do you?" He confirmed quietly, fists clenching as the angry scowl on his face hardened. "You're doing this on purpose."

"Ding, ding!" Stanley offered up a sardonic smile. "Winner, winner chicken dinner."

"I… I don't…" Stanford stuttered for a moment. His brother had somehow managed to make him more angry and bewildered in just this short time traversing the mindscape than Stanford had felt in almost all thirty years he'd spent lost in the multiverse combined. "W-why?"

The grin on Stanley's face fell back to something more sneering, and almost reserved for him. There was something behind the expression that Stanford couldn't quite read. "It's scary, isn't it Ford; when your whole world feels like it's collapsin' down around ya, but your own brother doesn't even seem to care. Imagine how he must've felt over forty years ago when ya did this to him." The shadowed man's eyes flared up with orange light again as he shot a meaningful look down in his younger counterpart's direction. The boy's dejected gaze fell to his feet in response. "What does it really matter if your brother's dreams for the future are crushed anyways, huh?" He spat caustically. "Just so long as you get to show off your smarts in the big pissin' pool of academia."

"You're completely-" Stanford ground out before forcibly cutting himself off as he saw the grin stretching across the second fragment's face. It wasn't going to do them any good if he lost his temper now and gave into Stanley's taunts. He took a deep breath, offering a disdainful shake of his head. "Hmph. Well, I suppose I at least understand now why the other aspects of Stanley's personality seem to dislike you so much. You're obviously meant to represent the worst parts of my brother; his most bitter, angry, and spiteful feelings all wrapped up in one awful package."

The cocky man gave a small chuckle as he turned his head to look between Stanford the figure hanging in the portal. "You think I'm the worst part, huh." He mused, rubbing his chin in mock thoughtfulness. "Personally, I feel that honor belongs to the sad sap behind me, but I can't say I blame ya for thinkin' the way you do. Scars do have a tendency to be pretty ugly, especially when they're really visible and obnoxious."

Stanford kept his gaze even and didn't rise to the bait. "Personal preference aside," He continued stiffly, trying to steer the conversation back on track. "you still haven't answered my question. Given everything that's happened between the two of us over the years, I suppose I can understand why you might bear enough of a grudge against me to want me dead. But that doesn't explain why you're doing this to yourself. You can't really value your life so little that you're willing to pointlessly throw it away just to get back at me?"

"Hmm, that's funny. I don't believe it's you that I've beaten to a pulp. Yet." Stanley's second fragment shot his twin a dark glare and wicked smirk, not even bothering to turn around as he viciously jabbed his cane at the man behind him. He twisted the sharp tip deeply into his unconscious counterpart's chest, eliciting a small choking sound from him and causing a flurry of orange sparks to erupt out from his open wound. The muscles in Stanford's shoulders tensed severely, and it was all that he could do to grit his teeth and not rush up to the portal to try and interfere.

"Heh. But yeah, you're right in thinkin' that I hate you." The shadowed man continued on after a beat, leaning nonchalantly on his cane, which was still sticking back into the other man. "I can't even begin to express how utterly I despise you. In fact, I think the only person in all of existence that can't stand more than you, is him." Stanley's eyes finally slid over to the figure behind him. He moved his cane up again, and gave the third fragment a hard poke, causing another breathless gasp to slip out from his lips. Stanley seeming to be enjoying Stanford's distressed expression at this, and his eyebrows shot up mockingly as he raised his voice. "And let's give you another big round of applause for guessing what my end goal is here as well. Maybe there is something in that oversized head of yours besides just hot air. Yes. It is my intention to have you die here. Both of you. I guess ya can consider it revenge for ruining my life!"

Stanford was quiet for a moment, eyes shining with something he didn't quite want to admit to as he took everything in. "You… you can't actually be serious about this." He tried once more.

"Oh, and what exactly makes you think that?" Stanley bellowed back, eyes blazing as wildly as his smile. "Isn't the way I took down Bill proof enough for ya that I've got no problem setting my own house on fire if it ends up burning my enemies with it!"

"Your enemies-" Stanford snapped, brows furrowing. "Stanley I came after you to try and rescue you; to take you back home!"

The second fragment offered Stanford a confident sneer before flickering like a dark flame down the rubble and back onto the wooden floor below. He started slowly approaching the pair again, twirling his cane in an almost bored manner. "Hmm, sorry. Don't think I believe you on that one. There's only room for one professional liar in this family, and I'm afraid that position has already been filled by yours truly."

"Why else would I be here!?" Stanford shot back quickly, but the dark figure before him could only offer up a disinterested shrug.

"Beats me." He admitted, halting a couple of yards away from the pair and bringing his cane down with a soft clack. "But I'm sure ya have some other motivation. Maybe you thought you'd be the first to discover the wonders and enchantment of the nightmare realm. Maybe ya wanted to present your findings on the mindscape to get a Nobel Prize 'r whatever, and needed more info on it. Or maybe there's some other nerdy reason meant to inflate your own ego that I'm not seein'."

"Please Stanley!" Stanford implored as he took a step forward to close the gap between the two of them, struggling once again to reign in his temper. Why was this portion of his brother being so stubborn and uncooperative about this? It didn't make any sense. Someone who was so conflicted within their own mind, it would've shown in the real world, right? There would have been some signs, so why hadn't he seen them? Or, had he seen them. Had there been things that Stanford had noticed and set aside because he'd had more important issues to deal with at the time. The portal, the rift, Bill Cipher, his research, the school of his dreams, the mindscape collapsing around them.

The differences between the two swing sets that the older Pines twin had come across in the field outside stuck out in his mind; followed quickly by the previously missing, now found, Stan O' War, and the boarded up doorway labeled KRSH. Stanford's eyes slowly began sinking to the burnt wooden floor as all the pieces finally started connecting themselves together in this mind.

Stanley had given up. Given up on Stanford. Given up on his dreams. Given up on hope. He had abandoned that, all of that, and left it to rot. His brother's earlier sacrifice to stop Bill now took on a whole new weight to it; a new implication. One that caused Stanford's heart to feel like a heavy lump in his chest.

He shook his head slightly as he forced himself out of his own musings. "Enough of this." Stanford brought his gaze back up to stare grimly at the shadowed man before him; a living scar by his own admission. But his voice softened slightly after a moment, as did the steely set of his expression. "Don't you want to get out of here? Don't you want to live?"

The smile on the second fragment's face fell as he suddenly grew very still. Even the shadows surrounding the man seemed to confine themselves slightly more than usual."Maybe I don't, huh." He offered lowly after a moment, hands tightly gripping onto his cane as an unrestrained malice sparked up in his eyes. "You wouldn't get it because everyone always told ya that you were destined for greatness. You weren't considered the accident, the black sheep, the incompetent screw up. You didn't have to constantly overhear people talking behind your back about how you were a burden, how they wished they could just get rid of ya for good. You weren't…" The shadowed man paused for a moment in an unusual display of hesitation for him. Something passed across his face that Stanford couldn't make out clearly due to the darkness that masked his features. "w-weren't forced to question the value of his own life on a daily basis." He finally finished a bit more quietly.

"W-what about seeing the kids again, Dipper and Mabel?" Stanford looked back down as the ten-year-old version of his brother once again stepped out from behind his legs and spoke to his dark counterpart. There was something a little more confident in the child's gaze, this time around, something more focused and determined. "I know we've argued about a lot'a things over our lifetime, but never about how much those two mean to us. Even you remember how wonderful we felt the first time we got to hold them in our arms." The boy didn't seem to be able to keep the warm smile off from his face at that recollection. Despite his best efforts, the dark figure in front of them seemed to soften his own expression slightly as well. "If we don't go back with Ford, then we'll never get to wear that sweater Mabel's making for us, and we'll never get to show Dipper how to hotwire a car like we promised. And then there's Soos-"

"Don't you dare use them against me." Stanley cut off abruptly, his face re-morphed into something like a snarl. "Besides, if we really care about the kids' well bein', then that's all the more reason to just stay here for the rest of eternity. Ya think that lowlife criminal loser like us is really a good influence on them? Don't be such a sap. They're better off without us, and we both know it. All we ever do is cause trouble for the people we care about." The glare he shot the younger boy was feverish and unrelenting. "Everyone is better off without us."

As the man's gravelly voice tapered off the whole of the mindscape gave another tremendous, bone-jarring shudder. Stanford barely had time to gasp and reach out to grab the child next to him as the wooden walls and floor around them gave a series of thundering cracks. Some of the charcoal remains of the boards suddenly splintered inward as though something was squeezing tightly around the outside of the chamber, and a rain of black slivers were sent flying into the air along with large clouds of shimmering grey ash. The lights from within the portal's twin warp drive generators flickered violently across the nebulous mess suspended in the air, as though in time to a rapid heartbeat. Sparks of bright white lightning shot out wildly on every side around the four circular pads as its energy leaked forth into the room. Some of the bolts disappeared once they made contact with the dark ground, walls, and ceiling, as they should have, and others stayed there as a permanent fixture; savagely jolting and twitching around like loose pieces string blown in a gale.

Stanford held his breath till the shaking stopped once more, and the next inhale he took was one full of the smells of iron, and ash, and burning ozone. He released the boy from his previous white-knuckled grip and sent an icy glare at his brother's second fragment. The shadowed man stood casually among the shaking lightning, silvery clouds, broken wooden boards and rampant destruction of his own mind, looking as though he couldn't be more disinterested with carnage littered around him. He shot his brother a deliberate smirk, and Stanford couldn't help but feel his ire begin to rise.

He was out of options. Stanford had tried, but there didn't seem to be a way of reasoning with something apparently forged out of pure wrath and spite like this fragment of his brother was. For whatever cause or justification he had, the man was set on killing them, and that was that. As much as Stanford hadn't wanted to risk an all-out fight, he couldn't think of a way to avoid it. At least, not with the time constraints currently being placed on them.

The elder Pines twin sent a look down to the still slightly shaking child at his knees, and addressed him gravely. "If he's unconscious will you be able to fuse back together with him?"

Stanley stared back up at him for a moment, brown eyes shining with something akin to fear before giving a tentative nod. "I… I think so."

Stanford gaze softened slightly as gave the boy a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder. He turned again to face the grinning man in front of them. "Fine then. If this is the way you want to be then I suppose we'll just have to do things the hard way. As much as it pains me to force something like you back into my brother, we don't really have a choice if we want to get out of here alive."

"Oh, this is going to be fun, isn't it!" Stanley crowed. Just the prospect of a fight seemed to cause his eyes to start flaring brightly, and he readjusted his grip on his cane so that it would be easier to lash out with it.

Stanford let out a tense breath through his nose and offered his small companion a slight nod to make sure that he was ready. The boy didn't respond back at first, his gaze flickering nervously to the imposing form of the second fragment of his soul, and then back down to his shoes. "I-I don't know if I can-"

"Don't forget that we're in the mindscape." Stanford gently reminded. "You're only limited by what you can think up in here, and we have two minds working against his one." Stanley blinked up at him for a moment, mulling over his words and seeming to take them to heart. He gave his brother a small, more confident smile before hesitantly returning the nod and stepping out at Stanford's side. He waited to follow the older man's lead.

Already having a strategy in mind, Stanford didn't waste any time before charging forward. Quickly, he re-created a propulsion cannon he'd remembered borrowing during his stay in dimension 43 and aimed it directly at the second fragment. The bright green beam from his weapon crashed against a wall of broken bottles that his opponent had summoned to defend himself at the last minute, sending thousands of glass shards shattering wildly up into the air. They didn't fall back down to the ground immediately. Instead, they hovered and shimmered like fish scales as the bright flashes of the lightning in the room around them reflected off their surfaces. Stanford put two and two together, and managed to summon a large piece of sheet metal just in time as the suspended glass suddenly all shot over in their direction. Both he and Stanley ducked behind it, the boy wincing slightly at the loud crashing sound that followed. As the attack ceased and the glass disappeared, Stanford peeked out over his makeshift shield to aim a counter at the second fragment, only to find himself looking at an empty space where the man had previously stood. He searched around tensely for a few seconds before an especially vulgar curse to his left flank suddenly caught his attention. The shadowed man was dueling off against a group of rather cartoonish pirate ghosts, swinging a handful of dark chains wildly around him as he tried to dispel his younger counterpart's creations.

The battle erupted into chaos after that.

It was a mess that made Stanford's heart race and his mind whirl around wildly as he struggled to keep up with his brother's two fragments. The shadowy one was especially cruel and relentless in his attacks, hardly leaving any room for his twin to gather his wits before he brought forth some new nightmare from depths of his depraved mind. There were several instances where Stanford was barely able to dodge the towering waves of razor blades sent in his direction, or block against a flock of plastic comb shives that rained down upon the pair. The various cuts on the arms of his jacket proved that well enough.

His younger companion, on the other hand, was faring much better, and somehow even seemed to be commanding the tide of the battle more than its other two participants. Whether this was due to the sheer expanse of his childlike imagination, or because he was able to better predict the attacks of someone who was part of himself, or even because the shadowed man seemed to be oddly reluctant to hurt his younger counterpart, Stanford couldn't say for certain.

But despite the second fragment's ruthlessness, it became apparent within minutes that the opposing pair had the upper hand. The decisive blow was struck when the second fragment got stuck to the wall by a blizzard of sticky toffee coated peanuts. He was held still long enough to be blasted in the side by a heavy density laser that Stanford had long ago made the designs for but never actually got around to creating.

Utterly exhausted and cornered, he slumped against the burnt wood paneling of the wall as his sugary restraints began to fade away. He clutched his ribs in clear pain as his chest heaved up and down, and a moment later he fell to his hands and knees, unable to keep himself upright. His orange eyes blazed with a terrifying energy from behind the silvery mess of his hair, and the shadows partially shrouding his features seemed to ripple in fury.

"And that puts an end to that." Stanford concluded coldly. He shifted the heavy metal casing of the laser around on his shoulder, taking deliberate aim at the fragment, and shoving away the nagging sense of guilt that sprung up as he watched the man's obvious suffering. It was still part of his brother after all, and despite the fact that he'd intended to kill them, and that Stanford had already tried alternatives, he couldn't help but wish that it hadn't come down to this. If these feelings really were part of his twin… Well, he and Stanley would talk things out later, the older Pines twin mentally promised to himself again.

But Stanley didn't seem to notice the large device being pointed at his head. In fact, he wasn't looking at Stanford at all. Instead, the full weight of his boiling, accusatory glare was fixed on the small child that was now situated at almost eye level with him. The younger fragment took a couple of nervous steps back. "Why are ya siding with him? Huh?" The man asked, his voice rough and shaky. "W-why would you side with that-with the guy who… why would you side with him?!"

"Because it's Stanford. He's trying to help me, to help us." Stanford glanced at the boy and felt a warmth tug at his heart from the sheer child-like conviction in his voice.

"Heh," The defeated fragment scoffed breathlessly, fixating the younger with a disappointed, almost knowing look, as the orange glow in his eyes flared up again. For a few seconds, a smirk twitched and struggled to win over his expression, but he seemed too overcome by anger to force his mouth into anything but a bitter grimace. "Ya really believe that? You stupid kid. Tell me, was it Stanford who helped take care of us when we were out on the streets for ten years? Was it Stanford who got us through prison? Was it Stanford who had the steady hand to shoot Jorge before he gutted us like a pig? Was it Stanford who was always watching our back for the cops and loan sharks that were constantly tailin' after us?" He shot an especially vile glower over at his counterpart before growling lowly through his teeth. "Was it Stanford who took the necessary steps to keep us alive when you decided that it would be a good idea to take whisky with the pain meds we nicked from the hospital because you just couldn't handle it anymore?! Huh!"

The young Stanley turned away at the words, an unreadable expression making his face strangely blank.

"No, it wasn't him." The shadowed man continued on, more calm than he'd been before. He drew himself up slightly, and a confidence that made the hairs on the back of Stanford's neck stand on end started creeping into his voice once more. "It was me, wasn't it? I'm the one who did all of that stuff. I'm the one you trusted and counted on when you had no one else to turn to because Stanford had abandoned you! He was the one who put you in those situations in the first place, the one who destroyed your dream of sailing around the world on the ship we poured our heart and soul into! Wasn't he the one who closed the curtains on ya when you reached up to him and begged him for help?" His scorching gaze finally slid over to Stanford for a moment, and he gave a mocking snicker before shaking his head in apparent disbelief and disgust. "But now, you really think he's tryin' to help you now?! He's just using ya so he can get out of this stupid dimension like he manipulated us into protecting him from bullies when we were kids! And just like back then, as soon as you've outlived your usefulness to him he'll consider you a suffocating burden and leave ya to rot!"

"No." The young boy suddenly refuted as he turned back around. Glitched, waving strands of electricity from the mindscape's earlier quake cast odd and unsteady shadows across his face. The same agelessness that Stanford had seen the child take on when they'd argued about the Stan O' War, and that seemed to define the second fragment so completely, started seeping into his features again. But that wasn't all that was there. Uncertainty was starting to take root as well. "No you're wrong. He wouldn't-"

"You know as well as I do that he would." The shadowed man interrupted, expression practically dripping with resentment. "Stanford doesn't care about loyalty, doesn't care about family. He burned your shoulder for the sake of his own dumb book. You're worth less to him than a pile of bound paper, or some stupid diploma saying that he graduated from West Coast Tech! Come on kid!" He pressured, easing himself up a bit further. "Who's actually been there for ya through thick and thin? Who's side should you really be on here?"

"I-I… I don't…" Stanley tried, but whatever he was going to say died in his throat. Stanford's brow's furrowed slightly, and reached out to give the boy a reassuring pat on the head only for the fragment to quickly duck away and refuse to meet his eyes.

"Which one of us had the courage to take on Bill Cipher and protect the people we care about, HUH?!" The second fragment abruptly roared, eyes burning brightly as he fixed Stanford with an accusing glare. "Didn't Poindexter agree that he'd stay away from the kids so they wouldn't get dragged into this mess because of him?! Did he keep his word?!"

Stanford stiffened as that final insinuation struck a raw nerve. "That's enough out of you!" He frigidly snapped, once again taking aim. "You have no idea what you're talking abo-agh!"

Stanford's eyes widened as several dozen popsicle sticks suddenly appeared out of thin air to his right and bolted directly at him. He was completely caught off guard, not even having the time to think up something for a counter before the thin slivers of wood tore through his clothes and slammed him to the wall near the entrance of the portal room. The breath was abruptly knocked out of his lungs as he hit the glass of the observatory window, and he could hear a small series of cracks spider webbing behind him from the force of the blow. Stanford's eyes widened in shock for a few moments before his horrified gaze trailed over to where his brother's fragments were watching him.

The dark fragment finally rose from the ground completely and cracked his neck, his cocky grin falling back into place. Meanwhile, the younger boy stood shivering, his head turned away from his brother now pinned to the wall like a butterfly in a bug collection. He didn't move as his other fragment placed a hand on his shoulder in an almost genial manner. "Thanks kid, that's more like it.. You can go ahead and sit out for the rest of this. I'll take care of things for you like I usually do."

A mixture of terror, rage, and betrayal rose up in an awful cocktail within Stanford. He desperately tried to tug his arms out from the popsicles sticks now embedded into the wall behind him.

"Wh-Are you insane?!" He cried frantically. "Don't listen to him! The mindscape is about to collapse and kill both of us! You can't seriously want that-want any of this. You can't let him do this! I'm not going to abandon you. I went into the nightmare realm after you to try and save you! I'm trying to save you!"

The child's voice was very quiet. He gazed directly up at his brother, appearance still youthful, but marred by something older, sadder, and more guarded. "And I'm really supposed to just trust ya when you say something like that?" Stanley closed his eyes before wiggling out of his dark counterparts grip and turning around. He began to walk away from the other two, over to the eye of the portal.

"Stanley wait!" Stanford implored, muscles straining as the glass behind him gave another foreboding crack. "Please! Please, you can't do this!"

The child hesitated at that and stopped, giving Stanford some semblance of hope that he was actually getting through to him. But Stanley didn't turn around. His voice was muffled and introspective, and it was difficult to make out at what he was saying at first. "When you were askin' me to get rid of that Journal for ya thirty years ago, do you… remember what it was that ya said to me?"

Stanford worriedly pondered at that. He'd said more a few things to his brother when they'd been arguing about hiding his first journal, and some of them were quite unkind. But he wasn't given long to wonder what Stanley was getting at before his own, slightly younger voice, began reverberating in the large chamber around them. "I have something to ask of you. Remember our plans to sail around the world on a boat? Take this book, get on a boat, and sail as far away as you can! To the edge of the Earth! Bury it where no one can find it!"

The last sentence echoed unnaturally around the burnt wooden walls for a few moments before fading away to nothing. Stanley still stubbornly kept his back to his brother, giving the older man nothing to work with save the troubled slouch in his shoulders.

"That postcard tellin' me to come down to Gravity Falls…"The boy hesitantly spoke up again, his voice heavy and strained with some emotion that Stanford couldn't quite identify. "I-I thought you'd sent it because ya… ya missed me; that ya wanted to make things alright between us. But as soon as I got there you were already plannin' on pushin' me as far away as possible. To the edge of the earth. You didn't even ask me how I was doin', or what was going on in my life, before tryin' to get rid of me again. I… I thought that ya'd abandoned our dream to sail around on the Stan O' War because that kinda travelin' around just didn't interest ya anymore, or 'cause ya felt you were meant for better things, or maybe 'cause it just didn't mean as much to you as it did to me…."

Stanley trailed off slightly as he seemed to notice something. He walked over to one of the heavily scorched, shining black walls and stretched his fingers up to a singed piece of crumpled paper that was sticking oddly out from between the black planks. Very carefully, he plucked it out, holding it as though it were something far heavier. The muscles in Stanford's neck gave an uncomfortable twinge as he squirmed around to see what was on the paper, and his heart gave a wistful lurch when he caught sight of two faded handprints. An old relic from an untroubled childhood long past. The younger fragment stared at it forlornly, his head bowed.

"But the Stan O' War we saw out there in the mindscape," He continued quietly after another moment or so, his voice cracking. "It came from your mind, not mine. Obviously, it's not the idea of sailin' around the world that ya don't like; it never has been." Finally, the child turned around again, and his soft face was streaked with hot and shining tears."It's the fact that ya would'a had to do it with me, isn't it."

"I… S-Stanley please." Stanford frantically begged, his own mixed emotions starting to get the better of him. "We don't have time for this! The mindscape-you have to- gah! Why are you being so unreasonable!? You know that isn't true!"

"No, I don't." Stanley snapped back as he bitterly wiped at his face. "It was supposed to be us forever, but you left me in the dust at the first chance ya got. Ya… ya didn't even hesitate. You were going all the way to the opposite side of the country, and who knows how often we would'a gotten to see each other. But that didn't seem to upset you at all. Not even a little!"

"I-it wasn't that. I was-"

"That's right, isn't it." The second fragment interjected with an almost disinterested tone as he turned away from the other two. He walked over to the portal to pick up the 8-ball cane that their earlier fight had forced him to discard. After giving it an appreciative look and blowing off some soot from the handle, he lazily spun back around and grinned in smug satisfaction at the pair before him. "Even your own twin brother, the person you were supposed to be able to count on to have your back no matter what, even he knows you're just not worth it."

Stanford sent a cold glare in the dark figure's direction before shaking his head and turning back to the younger child. "Look, Stanley. I… It's complicated, alright." He tried again, softening his voice and unintentionally letting some of his own weariness start to bleed through. "That whole situation with… It was just a mess. I promise you, we can discuss this later, but right now we just don't have any time to waste!"

Stanley looked over to his brother, his watery brown eyes carefully searching Stanford's for something. Though what exactly, the older twin could only guess. After a moment, the boy's expression soaked through with even more bitterness and hurt than had been there previously as he came back seemingly unsatisfied. He turned back around, shoulders tensing severely as he started curling up even tighter within himself.

"You've… you've never actually wanted me around, have you." He accused, breath hitching slightly as he went on. "You've always just been tryin' to get rid of me. Even as we speak, you're kicking me outta the shack. A-after thirty years of not talkin' or even seein' each other, you still don't want anything to do with me." The boy looked over his shoulder with red-rimmed eyes, his back trembling severely as his small frame was wracked with silent sobs. Stanford's own ribcage seemed to constrict around his lungs at the sight, but as desperately as he wanted to go and comfort the boy, he couldn't manage to break himself free.

"Ford I-I… I love bein' with you; I love bein' around you. B-but-" He started weeping in earnest now, his knees hitting the wood below with a soft thud "But all you ever seem to think of me is that I'm suffocating, or that I'm holding you back. I just… I-If you don't want me around, then stop playing games with me and leave me alone." The child moaned quietly. "Just… leave me alone."

The second fragment started howling in laughter again, slapping his knee as he looked down on the miserable form of his younger counterpart. "Aw, boo-hoo-hoo." He mocked, grinning venomously. "Poor baby has it sooooo bad. Ha! I told ya all of this years ago, and it's only now that ya believe me?! Good grief. It's no wonder everyone thinks we're so pathetic."

"No, Stanley!" Stanford shouted. A few of the popsicle sticks clattered to the ground as he quickly jerked his right arm in an attempt to free it of the restraints. "Stanley, listen to me." But the child didn't respond back, save to meekly cover his ears and curl into the wooden ground below. It was too late. Stanford had lost him.

The shadowed man began strolling over to Stanford, unhurried, his cane deliberately clacking with each step he took. He stopped just in front of his brother, looming over him with all power and intimidation that he could manage to summon. Bright, smoldering orange eyes peeked out from within the darkness that shrouded his features and burned deeply into Stanford's own. The older Pines twin could practically feel the heat radiating off from his gaze "Oh, just drop it already." He snarled lowly, a sharp grin splitting across his face. "You heard the kid, Poindexter. We don't want anything to do with ya anymore. Back off!"

Stanford could do little more than stare blankly back, too horrified by how out of control the situation had gotten to begin thinking up a plan, or even a retort.

Just then the mindscape gave another tremendous shake. The wooden walls around them groaned and roared as though in pain as they caved in a little more, splintering jaggedly at the corners. Small showers of powdery grey ash and shining black bits of charcoal fell from the ceiling and saturated the air in a hazy coating of soot. The twitching lightning from the previous tremors suddenly pulsed and changed into eerily blank squares that hung suspended like cold white wraiths above them.

Stanford took the distraction caused by the center of Stanley's mindscape glitching out as an opportunity, and desperately struggled against his restraints, but he barely wiggled another few of the small sticks lose before his brother's second fragment was on top of him again. The man seemed oblivious to the destruction around him, leaning a nonchalant hand by his captured twin's head and grinning darkly.

"It's kinda funny, isn't it?" Stanley mused, his voice quiet and cruel. The shadows flickered and whipped wildly around him like pitch black fire, starting to slowly creep off his fingers and onto the wall behind Stanford as his brother pressed in uncomfortably close. The older Pines twin couldn't help but wince and jerk his own head back as the darkness flickered threateningly close to his skin. The second fragment seemed amused by this and gave a bitter laugh.

"You were able to survive for thirty years on your own on the other side of the portal, but now you're going to lose your life to the hatred and pain that you created in your own brother. Tough luck, ey Sixer?"