Author's note: Phew, chapter four got longer than we anticipated so we had to split it up. There will now be a total of six chapters to the story. We hope you enjoy!
"Now another one bites the dust
Let's be clear, I trust no one"
"You did not break me
I'm still fighting for peace"
'Elastic heart' - Sia
Dread coiled nauseatingly in the pit of Stanford's gut as he stared back at a pair of feverish orange embers glinting from depths of the second fragment's searing glare. His brother's silhouette loomed menacingly before him; a disturbingly calm and immovable statue compared to the shifting, fracturing, and wavering reality of the basement around them. The man, monster, shadow, personification of Stanley's hatred, whatever he was, stood barely half an arm's length away, pressing in uncomfortably close to Stanford's trapped and hapless form like a half starved coyote closing in on it's next meal.
He offered his captive a cruel, eerily satisfied smirk before nodding his head to the side slightly. Stanford's eyes darted hard to the right to follow the implications of the gesture, nearly bulging out of their sockets as he observed the wild black flames still creeping off from his brother's arm and onto the wall behind him. His heart gave an especially frantic lurch against his ribcage as the shadows flickered closer and closer to the side of his face, a sudden wave of heat washing over his cheek. The writhing blackness might as well have been real fire for the intensity of the swelter that it radiated; as white hot as molten metal, or the high noon sun on a blazing summer day. It flittered with an almost inky smoothness across the cracked surface of the glass beside Stanford, tauntingly pulling back as soon as he jerked his head away to avoid it, only to come at him again from another angle a moment later. The light reflecting off the window was gradually dimming as the shadows passed over it, its clarity becoming marred, sooty, and warped.
Stanley let out a small snicker as he watched his brother's frantic struggling. "Aw Poindexter, what's the matter?" He cooed sarcastically. "You were so confident and full of yourself a few moments ago, what happened to ya? Are ya really just that surprised by how suddenly the tables turned on ya? You shouldn't be. I warned ya right at the beginnin', didn't I?"
"E-Enough!" Stanford managed to grind out, his ire and panic rising in an unsteady crescendo. Forcing his expression to a determined grimace, he did his best to steel himself and remain still in spite of the torture his brother's fragment was threatening him with. It took more willpower than he'd expected not to flinch away at the black shapes squirming a mere centimeter or two from his face, but he managed to shoot a glare back at the shade, trying to combat the cruel delight of Stanley's scorching glower with own equally frigid one. Considering his current situation however, it was near impossible to put any real force behind it. The fragment apparently agreed if his condescending grin was anything to go by. After a moment of smugly staring, he did at least withdraw the shadows back up his arm and onto his own body again.
Idly, Stanford couldn't help but wonder why the man himself didn't seem to be afflicted by the caustic, destructive nature of the darkness surrounding him. The same force that had undoubtedly burned his brother's version of the Stan O' War, and altered his mindscape for the worse, now curled around the second fragment with no less toxic malice than it had used against Stanford. The only reasons for this that the older Pines twin could guess, was either because the shadows were an extension of the fragment himself and therefore didn't actually affect him, or because Stanley just outright didn't care whether or not it caused him pain. Given his brother's behavior so far, Stanford feared that the latter might be the case.
Finally letting his arm fall back to his side and taking half a step back, the shadowed man spoke again, voice low, even, and confident. "I warned ya that the greatest weapon you could have handed me was to underestimate what I'm capable of, but you just ignored me and ended up doin' exactly that, didn't ya." He offered a small smirk and gently propped his 8-ball cane on the wooden wall beside Stanford, abandoning his weapon in a mock gesture of peace now that he felt he'd won. "Ya jumped into this headfirst like I was just another one of your dumb mysteries. Ya thought you had everything under control, that you could figure me out using your own made up rules and boundaries."
Stanford couldn't help but turn his head away, attempting to avoid his brother's gaze. There was nothing that he could think to say to that. It was an accurate summation of his failure. Ever since he'd entered the nightmare realm it seemed as though he'd done nothing but misjudge and miscalculate the situation over and over again. As painful as it was to admit it to himself, Stanford just didn't know his brother well enough to deal with this kind of irrational behavior from him. He had no idea how to comfort him, what would inspire rage, or despair, or joy. A lifetime ago he'd understood his brother just as intimately as he'd understood himself, but the unhinged fragment currently taking pleasure in watching the destruction of the mindscape around them proved that Stanley had changed a lot over the past forty years. They both had.
Hopelessness started constricting around Stanford's chest, and he couldn't help but feel like he was once again being suffocated by the stringy, razor-sharp strands of a near-sentient swamp vine he'd encountered six months after first falling into the portal. His eyes darted away from the dark shadow in front of him, tearing across the chamber as he absorbed the bleak scene that had somehow happened despite his best endeavors to prevent it.
Directly across the room, the unconscious form of Stanley's third and final fragment remained strung up in the center of the portal's star carved inner ring. His form was disquietingly still, colorless, and tinted by a soft blue glow. Arms lay outstretched and tightly bound by several lengths of long dark chain. His slumped position mirrored Stanford's own popsicle stick induced captivity in an almost ironic manner, a mocking testament to his fruitless efforts to save his twin… or even just one part of him.
The older twin winced slightly before shifting his panicked gaze back over to the first fragment he'd found; the one whom he'd befriended, been charmed by, apparently misunderstood, and who'd eventually betrayed him. The child hadn't moved an inch from where he'd initially knelt amongst the debris and ruined toys on the burnt floor just before the wreckage of the portal. The paper with their handprints stamped onto it, green and red, five and six fingered, Stanford and Stanley, lay crumpled and forgotten beside the boy while his hands had moved up to clamp tightly over his ears. His forlorn sobbing echoed dully around the wooden hull of the ship.
The smirk plastered on the second fragment's face morphed into something a little less pleased, and a little more vindictive, as he followed his brother's gaze for a moment. His burning eyes shot back over to Stanford barely a heartbeat later. "But I don't play by your rules." He murmured heatedly. "This part of the mindscape is mine, and these other two are pieces of me. You never stood a chance coming down here into the basement."
Stanley gave the boy behind him a look that his brother couldn't quite read; an odd mix of spiteful and pitying as he seemed to mull something over. "I can tell ya firsthand, from all the long and far too quiet nights I spent kneelin' in front'a that monstrosity you created, like pipsqueak's doin' right now, this is where hope comes to die. It doesn't matter how long ya wait, or how desperately ya want to believe that things will one day be alright again. They won't be. Sunlight doesn't reach this far underground, and if it ever looks like it does, then you can count on a punch to the face correcting your faulty vision." The second fragment's gaze slid back over to Stanford, and he grinned at his brother as though he'd just told an awful joke.
"I was originally plannin' on using the remainder of this energy I ripped from Bill to take you out for good." He continued, a scoffing arrogance coloring his tone again. "But now, it looks like I won't even have to resort to that. Huh."
Stanford didn't answer his twin immediately. He could hear another sound creeping into his awareness as he listened to the fragment's boasting; a foreboding rumble echoing somewhere off in the distance. "No…" Stanford balked, realizing that they were out of time. The whispered roaring grew until it reverberated in his chest, a deep chaotic thrum that matched Stanford's own wildly beating heart, the tell-tale sign of the mindscape's utter destruction. After a moment the shuddering tapered off, and the light within the basement dimmed till the blue glow of the portal was once again the main source of illumination for the chamber.
Yet, the shadow of his brother stood before him, unconcerned, unyielding, and appearing almost at home in the darkness. The orange glow of his eyes blazed in an inferno of animosity that shed some small light on the rest of his features. Despite a slightly fatigued posture from the previous fight, there was no give in his expression. The same cold sneer he'd worn when the older Pines twin had first truly spied him in the waking lights of the half activated portal was still fixed firmly in place.
Stanford cautiously and subtly tugged his arms, trying to get a sense of what it would take for him to escape, and how quickly he'd be able to do it before Stanley's second fragment would take notice. It was doable, he concluded, wincing slightly as his coat made a small tearing noise and another popsicle stick clattered to the ground. Due to his earlier struggles, he had just enough wiggle room to make a break for it if he chose. But more importantly, it made Stanford realize something else. He had a sense that the younger Stanley hadn't truly wished to hurt him. The attack had been halfhearted at best, simply pinning him to the wall rather than actually skewering him like he very well could have; like the shadowed version of his brother probably would have held no reservations against doing.
Despite the second fragment's persuasions, the first obviously wasn't completely on board with this. And then there was the matter of that last one as well, whatever he was supposed to represent. Stanford still had a chance of getting out of this if he could just… well, if he could understand what was going on in his twin's head then maybe…
An irate sigh hissed out through Stanford's clenched teeth. Trying to find the part of his brother that contained his reason and desire for self-preservation wasn't the only tricky part (He desperately hoped that it wasn't the currently unconscious one, though, given his luck so far today, it honestly wouldn't have surprised him if it was). If it wasn't enough that Stanford had to contend with the three fragments being the furthest thing from cooperative at the moment, there was still the issue of escaping, or communicating with the other two, without drawing the attention of the dark figure before him. Given the way the man was currently eyeing him, hostility practically dripping from his wide grin, Stanford had the feeling that if he tried to escape now he would only end up in an even worse predicament. Fighting this piece of his brother seemed like a monumental waste of time as well. Even if Stanford did manage to whittle down his energy again, there was still the implied threat of Stanely using Bill's power, and that was worrying him.
Though he may have been wrong in assuming that his twin's behavior was being directly caused by that energy, Stanford knew better than to simply dismiss it as unimportant, regardless of what the second fragment was claiming. He'd seen situations like this on more than one occasion while traveling the multiverse. Demonic energy of this kind couldn't simply be used without grave and serious consequence if it didn't naturally belong to the wielder. It just was too chaotic, overpowering, and maddening for mortal hands. Sometimes, it had lead to the death of the user. Sometimes, it had ended up changing them in ways that were even worse than death.
Stanford took a deep breath before locking his stare once more with the pair of orange pinpricks burning into the eyes of the shadow before him. He forced himself to remain still and unmoved, desperately trying to inject some rational leverage to calm the terror slowly threatening his mind. After all, there was really no other way around this. Due to the possibility of Stanley calling upon that power, he couldn't have risked getting into another fight even if the mindscape hadn't been currently coming apart all around them. As impossible as the task seemed, there was no way he was going to get out of this mental recreation of the basement without talking some sense into this part of his brother first.
"Stanley, you have to fuse back together," Stanford tried again, his voice coming out a little more unsteady than he would have liked it to. "Please! You can't really want this!"
Stanley shot the chaos around him an appreciative look, seemingly disinterested in twin's pleading. "Mmm. Actually, I think I do want this."
The older twin gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts. "I… I don't understand this," He finally admitted, gazing back up at his brother after a moment to study the man closely. What was he missing? "Any of this. You're a part of my brother, so why are you so set on destroying him? How can you possibly hate yourself enough to want to end him? You are him!"
A smile flashed between the flickering shadows as their owner gave a small chuckle, and he shook his head in bemusement at Stanford's question. "Well, it's just like everyone always said, right?"
Stanford startled when he heard a deep gruff voice echo through the mindscape, one he hadn't heard in decades, and it brought with it a myriad of memories, mostly unpleasant. "The kid's a loser. He's weak. I just want to get rid of him."
Before the echoes of Filbrick's voice even died away, another one took its place. "That clown? At this rate he'll be lucky to graduate high school. Look, there's a saltwater taffy store on the dock…" Stanford winced, knowing what was coming next, remembering the acute shame he'd felt as he remained silent, too afraid to speak on behalf of his brother. "…And somebody's gotta get paid to scrape the barnacles off of it. Stanford's goin' places. But hey, look on the bright side: at least you'll have one son here in New Jersey forever."
A jarring thought occurred to Stanford. If Stanley had summoned these recollections then… The older twin felt his heart sink. It…it meant that Stanley had overheard every single disparaging word spoken about him in the principal's office that fateful day. It was no wonder he'd been in such low spirits when the two of them had talked later on the beach. Forty years ago Stanford hadn't understood why his brother had looked at him through the chain links of the swing set like a drowning man looks at a life-raft floating away from him. If he had known then, he… he would have done things differently. Wouldn't he have?
The voice of their high school principal fell silent, and then as Stanford slumped slightly in relief thinking it was over, another voice rose through the depths of the mindscape. One that was furious, tired, at its wit's end, and a little too painfully familiar. "I'm selfish? I'm selfish, Stanley? How can you say that after costing me my dream school?! I'm giving you a chance to do the first worthwhile thing in your life and you won't even listen!" Stanford's eyes darted remorsefully to the ground, a sudden panging guilt in his gut making it difficult to breathe. The fabric of the coat under his right arm, bunched up and tugging at his shoulder due to the position of one of the popsicle sticks, was starting to feel very uncomfortable.
"See Ford?" Stanley's gruff voice was unusually subdued, and even the writhing shadows surrounding him had slowed to a dull twitching. Yet his eyes, his eyes were ignited even brighter than before, searing into Stanford with a pure loathing that caused his heart to miss a beat. "Everyone else knows that he's just a loser, a clown, worthless. So why should I think any differently?"
"Stanley, you can't really-
"But I guess being as perfect as ya are, you've never really had any reason to hate part of yourself before." The fragment interrupted without missing a beat. "So I can see why this whole situation must seem pretty messed up to ya.
"You realize that you're talking to the person who's been labeled a 'six fingered freak' ever since we were kids," Stanford shot back bitterly, his own ire rising to the surface again. "Don't be ridiculous, Stanley. I'm far from perfect and I've made plenty of mistakes in my life; mistakes that cost more than you can imagine." Something unbidden rose to the back of his mind. Dark, ceaseless nights of paranoia. Fear and regret. Poison yellow eyes, and the complete loss of control that he'd carefully avoided thinking about, that he'd vowed to never repeat. Meticulously making sure every action and thought was planned, structured, controlled. The teasing voices of children all around him, laughing at him, mocking him. He was abnormal, a freak, he didn't belong with them. No, he was special, he was better than them! No! H-he was…
Stanford shook his head as though dispelling an old and habitual nightmare, his breathing a little harder than he would've cared to admit. Stanley had an odd look on his face and was watching him like a hawk. For the first time, the fragment seemed actually interested in the man before him, head tilted to the side in an almost curious manner. Stanford offered the man a scowl in response before quickly and efficiently squelched the intruding dark thoughts, pushing them to the back of his mind where they belonged. No, no, he wasn't going to let his emotions get the better of him; not because of Stanley's gloating fragment, and especially because he needed to keep his wits about him now more than ever. He pressed onwards, trying to get his point across to this version of his brother. "…O-Of course I've suffered from regret and maybe the occasional bout of self-hatred before, but this is-"
"Excessive?!" Stanley interrupted sharply, his erratic mood seeming to take another nosedive. "Yeah, well tell that to him, not me." The man's menacing smile completely dropped off from his face, and even the burning embers of his eyes dimmed slightly as he turned his head back to glance at the near lifeless form of the third fragment. "In the end, I'm only giving him what he wants; what he's asked for."
"W-what do mean by that?!"
Stanley was still turned toward his chained counterpart, the soft blue light of the portal outlining his dark silhouette and casting Stanford into shadow behind him. While the older twin could clearly see the odd tension coiling in the man's shoulders, along with the throbbing orange sigil that set his teeth on edge, he couldn't read the expression on his brother's face. After an uncomfortable pause, the fragment reluctantly spoke again. "He's a whole lot stronger than me. You realize that, right?" His voice was the softest Stanford had heard it, and the darkness curled around his form in a way that the older twin might have claimed looked irritated if he'd thought shadows capable of expressing emotion. "I'm not the one actually in charge around here. If I were, I guarantee you that I would've ran our life a lot differently."
"And what exactly does that have to do with anything?" Stanford asked quietly after the fragment didn't continue.
Stanley gave a small huff before turning back around and raising a mocking eyebrow at his twin. "Hmm. You really haven't realized what he is yet? Some genius you are. How exactly did ya end up with twelve PhD's again? Did ya bribe a few of your professors or something?"
Stanford felt indignation rise up at the offhand insinuation. "Oh, don't act as though this has anything to do with intelligence!" He snapped. "This whole time you've been doing nothing but-" He growled and quickly and cut himself off. Letting out a small sigh through his nose, Stanford managed to reign in his anger somewhat, reminding himself of their current situation. He'd already screwed things up with the only fragment that had acted civilly towards him, and losing his temper with this one was just going to make things worse. Taking a deep breath, Stanford swallowed some of his pride before lowering his voice once again. "I… Please. I don't… don't understand you. Just please, explain it to me."
The second fragment rolled his eyes, and dramatically crossed his arms. "Ya know, I can't say it really surprises me that the only time you're willing to listen to what I have to say is when you've pretty much exhausted all other options. This is exactly why ya ended up losing the kid over to me." He sent a condescending glance to the huddled fragment still curled up and crying on the ground. "When it comes to you, there's always gonna be some sorta crisis, or research, or inconvenient timing, or whatever else that's gonna take a higher priority than what he feels; but you can only sideline a heart for so long before it starts ignorin' you back." Stanley gave a small snicker, arrogance practically radiating from his voice as he stared pointedly at his brother. "See though, unlike him I already knew that you were full of it from the beginning. Ya wanna know how?"
The mindscape around them gave another small tremor, ominous cracking echoing like thunder somewhere up in the darkness above them. Stanford bit his tongue and ignored it, attention focused instead on humoring the fragment before him. "How?"
The man smirked and jerked his thumb back to gesture to his injured counterpart. "It's 'cause out of all of us, you're the most like him. Just like you, he thinks he's so smart and cunning; that he's so good at foolin' everyone around him. Lyin' about his identity to his own family. Keepin' the portal a secret for thirty years. Trickin' you and Bill 'bout his real intentions with that deal…"
Stanley trailed off and shot a dark look back at the other fragment. His expression morphed into one of almost revulsion and his tone became subdued. It was as though he was talking more to himself now than his captive brother. "He's the one who calls alllll the shots 'round here. Me and Pipsqueak can squabble 'till we're blue in the face, but that guy is the one who has the final say. And more often than not, he sides with that blubberin' kid, unless we're bleedin' on the ground. And then suddenly, oh, then he'll listen to me." The fragment snarled as he mocked. "Says he's the one who knows what's best out of all of us, but if he's really so great, then why does he keep making it so that we suffer, huh? It's always 'oh, we gotta prioritize the kids', or 'oh, we gotta prioritize Stanford', or 'oh, we gotta throw ourself into the rift and sacrifice our life to save everyone else'. Him and his goddam martyr complex, it pisses me off!"
Stanford smiled a little internally, satisfied that he was getting straight answers now and at least making some form of progress. Even if it was only gathering information about the three, it was obviously information that he needed given how badly he'd misunderstood his brother so far. "The way you've described him," Stanford continued questioning with interest. "am I to assume that the last third of you is meant to represent my brother's decision making and relative sense of morality? If that's the case, then what in the world makes you think that he wants to be destroyed?"
The fragment scowled at Stanford and let out an angry scoff. "Did you really not hear a word I just said!? Or is it that you haven't figured out what I am yet."
The older twin raised an eyebrow. "I thought we'd already cleared that up. You're a scar, right."
A strange look passed across Stanley's blazing eyes that his brother couldn't quite read, and he gave a dismissive shrug of his shoulders. "Hm. There's a difference between what I've become, and what I am. Tell me something Sixer, out of the three of us, who do you think is actually the most concerned with self-preservation." He gestured vaguely to his child counterpart. "The part that gets all weepy and upset whenever someone reminds him of what a pathetic little failure he is?" He nudged his chin in the direction of the man hanging in the portal. "The part that's always throwing us into danger for whatever stupid justifications he comes up with?" He brought his gaze back to Stanford to look at him pointedly. "Or is it the part that's selfish. The part that's most concerned with fulfilling our goals and making our life worthwhile. The only part that's capable of feeling a true and burning desire to exist in spite of the world around us, and what it wants." The shadowed man sharply pointed at his other two fragments. "I kept us alive in spite of his reckless efforts to do us in. I kept us going when all the kid wanted to do was lie down and give up."
Stanford's brows furrowed as he digested this information, feeling more confused than ever and beyond frustrated with this portion of his brother. "But if you're meant to represent Stanley's will to live, then your actions make even less sense! Why are you trying to destroy him?!"
That comment apparently struck a nerve. Stanley's eyes sparked brightly as he glared down at his twin, anger suddenly spiking to a fever pitch. The shadows around him flared as though they were a pitch black fire being hit by a fresh burst of air.
"BECAUSE HE KEEPS SCREWING US OVER!" The fragment roared so loudly that his voice nearly cracked at the end. "His entire life has just been one mistake and regret after another ever since highschool, and I have to live with the burden of a wasted existence on my shoulders every goddamn day! Ya think this is how I wanted things to turn out? Do ya really think this is anywhere close? It isn't, but he fought me tooth and nail the whole way. For all that people will claim Stanley Pines to be selfish and uncarin', the fact of that matter is that he's ended up spending his entire life trying to satisfy other people; whether it was our old man, or whether it was you. Well, ya know what? I'm done. I've got no problem fighting against the world if I have to. Even if our parents, and you, and everyone else in the whole universe looks at him and thinks he's just worthless garbage, I can still stand up and keep going just to spite you all! But I'm done fighting against myself! He's decided that our well being isn't worth shit? He wants to us suffer because apparently everyone else's wants take priority over our own? Then I'll give him exactly what he's asked for!"
Stanford looked away and swallowed slightly, stunned by the intensity of the outburst. When he spoke again after an uncomfortable minute of soul searching, his question was barely more than a whisper. He knew in his heart of hearts the answer he would receive when he asked it, but he dreaded hearing it all the same. A part of him was still trying desperately to deny all of this.
"Is that why you… When you threw yourself into the rift like that to stop Bill, was that a… a-"
"A suicide?" The second fragment finished, his unsettling wrath apparently fading as quickly as it had come leaving him looking very worn and very tired. He grimaced and offered an indifferent shrug of his shoulders. "His main concern was protecting his family and making sure that they were kept safe. But, yeah, I guess there was a little more behind our decision than just self-sacrifice. When you don't have much of a tomorrow to look forward to in the first place, giving up your life for a 'greater good' becomes almost effortless."
Stanley's gaze slid away again to his first fragment. The child's continued weeping had petered out, for now, leaving his huddled form impossibly still and small looking compared to the rest of the dark chamber. The shadowed man's voice lowered even further as though he was trying to avoid being overheard. "After all, what does he even have to go back to after this? Well, I mean besides just fading away as a forgotten, unloved, homeless grifter." He gave a small snicker, glancing over to Stanford as though sharing a private joke. "Just let 'em both sleep for all eternity I say."
"No…" Stanford softly denied, failing to keep an edge of horror from slipping into his voice. "Why would you-No!" A heavy stone was settling somewhere in his gut, and it warred with the energetic desperation that had remained a constant companion since he'd first watched Stanley ascend into the rift with Bill. The older twin hung his head, eyes shining in an almost dejected anger as he stared blankly at the blackened planks below. The iridescent glint of the burnt ship offered him no comfort.
His brother's fragment remained silent, and after allowing himself a few moments to try and vainly collect himself, Stanford raised his head to look back at him. The silhouette was as rigid and inert as a stone onyx statue, the fire in his eyes dimmed and darkened. Even the shadows seemed to have stilled their unsettled swaying.
Stanford pushed himself slightly off from the wall to glare at the man, and a few more popsicle sticks fell out and clattered to the burnt ground below. "Stanley, I came here to save you!" He shouted, dread seeping into his sharp tone."I understand how things might be a little rough for you right now. A lot of your-our present circumstances have changed rather quickly. But you can't just let it end like this! Please, please pull yourself back together so we can get out of here!"
Stanley's second fragment offered no reply, save to narrow his eyes a fraction. The sparks of energy in that lay therein flared up again for few seconds, but it wasn't enough to give away whatever shadowed expression had formed on his face.
Stanford drew in a breath, and tried again, his voice beginning to break at the edges. "I… I'm begging you. I don't want to lose you again. Plea-"
A loud crack to his left cut him short and caused his heart to skip a beat as Stanley closed the distance between them, his curled, shaking fist now embedded into the wooden wall a few centimeters away from Stanford's head. His brother's eyes were wild and glowing fully now, his lips pulled back into a feral snarl. "And what makes ya think that you get a say in it, huh?!" he bellowed. "You gave up your right to ask somethin' like that of me a long, long time ago! The kid was the only one here who might've actually given a damn about what you want. I really couldn't care less."
The fragment glared at Stanford for another second and his mouth curled into a bitter grin, obviously finding his twin's tight-lipped discomfort amusing. He removed his fist from the wall. A stream of black splinters trailed in the air off from his knuckles before glitching out and disappearing completely. The shadowed man shook his head as he retreated a few steps, keeping his expression hidden from Stanford before outright throwing his head back in a disturbingly unhinged, barking laugh. He gestured to the silent fragment suffering in the portal behind him, eyes blazing wildly. "Besides," He declared, voice rising an octave. "As far as I'm concerned this was the final straw! He's made it clear that he's already given up! He isn't really interested in living anymore!"
Stanford gritted his teeth and tried to lock eyes with the second fragment, more than a little alarmed by his abrupt change in mood."N-No, you're wrong." He denied frantically. "I can still see some color on him. He hasn't faded completely into the mindscape yet. Stanley, it's not too late. We can still fix this!"
Stanford yelped as he was roughly grabbed by the collar of his turtleneck sweater. Still pinned tightly to the wall, he was pulled forward by the second fragment just enough so that his body was painfully arched, his shoulders popping and the muscles in his back spasming with the strain. The older twin could do little more than stare fearfully into his brother's eyes for a few long moments, too caught off guard by the abrupt brutality to react properly. His heart nearly skipped a beat gazing into those pitch black pupils. The coiled hatred searing within their depths was nearly palpable, and the man himself seemed to be growing more deranged and unstable by the minute.
"Fix this, huh." Stanley rasped darkly. Stanford gasped, his shoulders giving an agonizing creak as his brother drew him forward another inch.
But as he was brought closer, there was… something else that the older twin couldn't help but notice simmering there underneath the wrath. Something between frustration and misery. Something that, if he'd seen it on any other creature, Stanford might have guessed to be a form of despair or hopelessness.
Or even surrender.
"Why do you hate yourself?" Stanford muttered, barely aware that he'd voiced the question out loud at all.
"What?" Stanley quickly mocked. "Ya want me to list the reasons out for ya or something? Didn't we already go over this?" Despite the clear annoyance of his tone, the fragment's grip on his brother's collar loosened somewhat, and the wildness of his snarl became more reserved.
Going on a gut feeling, flexing a long forgotten muscle he hadn't used in over forty years, Stanford pressed onward. "I'm not asking why you think other people hate you," he said softly. "I'm asking why… why you hate you."
The shadowed man studied his twin carefully, skeptically, and for moment Stanford was afraid that the fragment would simply dismiss his request. His fears were proven untrue when Stanley released his collar, and his gruff voice began grinding out of his throat like an old rusty machine a few seconds later.
"Ya really wanna know so bad, well fine then. I'll tell ya why. I hate him for not bein' able to prove to everyone that he wasn't just a worthless parasite. I hate him for giving up on Pipsqueak's dreams in order to impress his awful family, and for failing to make enough money to please 'em anyways."
As he spoke the shadows around him began to expand ominously, rippling like pieces of string caught in a whirlwind.
"I hate him for the fact that he forgave ya, and went running to ya when ya called, even though you'd abandoned him for more than a decade. I hate him for not noticin' how close you'd gotten to the portal when he pushed ya, and for taking so long to bring ya back. I hate him for not bein' able to protect the kids and Soos better, for endangering 'em because of all this apocalypse mess."
They stretched onto the ground, condensing together to form a number of sinister claw-like shapes. Stanford watched in a sort of fascinated horror as they raced across the ground, fluidly navigating through the splintering black boards of the Stan O' War towards the portal's ruined frame.
"I hate him for wasting thirty years of his life on a poor excuse 'f a brother like you. I hate him for the fact that he's willing to give ya everythin', his house, his business, his life in this town, all without a fight just because you asked for it. But most of all… most of all, I hate that he keeps letting us get hurt, again and again, and again…"
The collection of slender black arms snaked upwards over the silver metal, each twisting around one of the lengths of chains that bound the unconscious fragment. A cruel smile stretched onto Stanley's face as he finished his rant, and he slowly, deliberately, began to clench his hand into a tight fist.
Stanford watched for a tense moment, perplexed, and then a dismayed gasp of realization escaped him. Before he could even cry out in protest, the chains around the strung up man brutally constricted, causing the crack on his chest to suddenly burst open wider and his broken body to spasm with pain. Bright orange liquid splattered wildly onto the ruins and rubble below as the telltale, sharp cracking of broken bones rang out in the chamber around them. A moan of anguish tore from the third fragment's throat, which morphed into a scream of utter torment as the chains continued to tighten.
Nausea and dread clogged Stanford's insides, and a part of him wanted to plug his ears against the harrowing sounds, but more deeply, more desperately, he wanted to put a stop to the abhorrent scene. Before he even quite knew what he was doing he found himself thrashing against the popsicle sticks that bound him, trying to free himself like a rabbit caught in a trap. The small noise wood clattering on wood sounded from below him and joined his grunts of frustration as he loosened a couple more in his struggle.
Oddly enough, Stanley didn't seem all that bothered by his twin's attempts at freedom. He merely shook his head in disgust as and lowered his hand slightly, watching as both Stanford and his own counterpart continued to squirm. "It's pathetic. He brought all of this pain upon ourself. He keeps bringing it upon ourself. I'm just doin' us a favor by finally putting him out of his misery for good." An arrogant, spiteful smile returned to the second fragment's face, the wildness of it mirroring the aura of the writhing midnight shadows stretching out behind him. "Besides," his tone abruptly changed to cruel and teasing. "I'd rather die before I have anything to do with that worthless loser again. So I guess that gives us some common ground, ay Stanford."
Stanley raised his hand slowly and mockingly over his head before squeezing his fist closed again. The shadows twitched like agitated worms before reacting accordingly, and the chains encircling his suffering counterpart's powerless form tightened for a second time. An excruciatingly shrill scream reverberated throughout the hollow chamber. The sound of it seemed to cling sickenly to wooden walls surrounding them.
Stanford couldn't help but cry out as well, stricken as though a spear had run through his heart, and he turned himself away from the ruthless torture. It didn't matter if man chained in the portal was only a fragment of his twin, he was still part of Stanley's soul, and Stanford could no longer just watch his brother tear himself apart.
"P-please stop that," he shouted helplessly, increasing his exertions to free himself and end the madness before him. "Stop doing that to yourself! Stop hurting yourself! Stanley, you-"
His pleading words were abruptly cut off as Stanley's eyes erupted with an almost murderous scorching light, brighter than Stanford had ever previously seen it, brighter than the blue glow of the portal; twin sets of savage orange suns. The shadows thrashing about his form suddenly burst outward like expansive black wings, almost completely filling the crumbling ruins of the ship with twisting flames as pitch dark as the nightmare realm.
The entirety of the mindscape gave a colossal, horrific shudder, wood cracking and breaking all around them. Entire patches of the floor flickered away, and light and shadows bent unnaturally in the hull of the ship. Stanford saw the small child fragment of Stanley curl up even tighter within himself. His muffled sobbing picked up again, more loud and desperate than ever, tearing into the older twin's heart.
It was then, blinking through a haze of soot and black cinders, that a realization finally slammed into Stanford. It was powerful enough to leave him breathless, and turn his blood frigid. The first time the mindscape had started crumbling was when the younger fragment had first doubted Stanford's intentions in saving him. The second, when he'd refused to give his brother a straight answer about the Stan O' War. The third, when the second fragment had first become upset. The pattern was undeniable.
He'd been wrong. This entire time, he had been wrong about why the mindscape was falling apart in the first place. He'd taken for granted that the condition of this reality might be in any way related to his brother's current mental status, but now that he added it in, their predicament started to make a disturbing amount of sense. This pocket wasn't falling to ruin because he and his brother's mindscapes couldn't simultaneously coexist in the same space, of course not. He himself had met several hive-minded creatures before while traveling the multiverse, and they certainly had no problem accessing the mindscape. No, this world was breaking apart because…. because Stanley's mind was ripping itself into pieces. And since they were both here together, he was taking Stanford with him to oblivion.
"SHUT UP! What right do you have to tell me that?! Huh!" The older twin was brought out of his despairing musings by the dark fragment heatedly addressing his previous question. Stanley's voice seemed to be somehow carrying clearly over the near deafening rumble of the degrading mindscape around them. "After what you've done to him, after the way you treated him for all these years, hearing you tell me not to hurt him is a joke! Ya think that what I'm doing to him is bad? Well you've already done far worse than that! Oh, the scars I could show you; the scars that you carved into us!"
With a savage snarl, Stanley drew back his left fist, the whole arm shaking with barely restrained rage. "And now," He declared glaring at his brother in overwhelming hatred. "now I'm gonna do the thing that he never had the guts to try. I'm gonna return the favor!"
Stanford's mind flashed to years ago- boxing lessons and playful sparring. Chalky powder hanging in beams of sunlight over the matt. Bandages wrapped around his wrists. A nervous stomach. His brother laughing with genuine joy as he decked some bully that had teased them in the face. The smell of sweat, iron, and blood. Their father yelling at them from the sidelines to put their arms up to block before one of them got a black eye.
"Remember to duck and weave kid. You don't have the muscle to go toe to toe with some of the bigger fella's here. If you try to take them head on, you'll lose. Badly. Boxing isn't always about knocking your opponent out cold. Sometimes, you just need to last through to the final round."
Stanford gave a final tremendous squirm, breaking himself from his popsicle stick prison and barely managing to get free in time. He stumbled, falling hard onto the shaking ground, and heard a sharp crack as the glass where his head had just been a few seconds ago was shattered by Stanley's fist.
Stanford stared up at the shadowy figure towering over him in horror, completely transfixed. Even the constant blue light from the portal was starting to flicker out, and the darkness around them was quickly becoming absolute and all-consuming. The older twin could barely distinguish the outline of his brother in the wavering pitch. The fiery glow from his eyes and brand were now the only light-source able to reliably illuminate him, and his vehement gaze of judgment fixated chillingly upon Stanford.
Was it a trick of the eye, or was the brand… growing in size? Yes, Stanford confirmed to himself upon looking it over again, there was no mistaking it. The symbol was without a doubt becoming larger right before his own eyes. It was gradually creeping, spreading like a sickness, and now was beginning to shine over Stanley's shoulder.
The fragment growled, low and vicious, before removing his fist from the shattered window and swiftly turning to advance upon his twin. "You! You abandoned him when he needed you most! You turned your back on him for a stupid school! Did you think I would ever forgive you for that?! IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE US FOREVER!"
Stanford frantically scrambled backward trying to get enough leverage to stand, but his right foot caught on one of the numerous debris or smashed toys, in the darkness he couldn't tell which, just as he forced himself upright. He lost his footing instantly, and a moment later he was sent sprawling back on the ground. Stanley closed the distance between them effortlessly, delivering a savage kick to his brother's stomach upon their meeting, causing the air to be knocked from the older twin's lungs. The force of the attack sent him rolling across the quaking ground. He could feel the skin of his face scratching against unseen rubble. Finally, Stanford's body was brought to a halt by an angled piece of a broken beam, and he gasped as his arms tenderly clutched at his stomach in pain. But the fragment didn't give him even a moment to catch his breath before assailing him again almost immediately, railing on his body with the relentless fury of a shark in bloodied water.
Stanford put his arms up to defend himself, but it hardly did any good as the nearly invisible punches from his brother struck him from the darkness. Desperately, he tried to focus his mind enough to conjure up some sort of defense. A glowing circular shield materialized in front of him and offered him the opportunity to get back on his feet, but it did little to slow Stanley's attack. Stanford grunted, trying to hold the shield steady as it cracked under the shadowy fists pummeling into it. Then the orange symbol crawling over this twin's shoulder flashed even brighter, and he was once again thrown backward as the shield exploded under the unforgiving brute force of the man's powerful left hook. Stanford fell to the bombardment of punches, raising his arms over his head, trying in vain to defend himself against the seemingly unstoppable rage of the fragment.
"He gave everything for you!" Stanley ground out through clenched teeth. "He keeps giving everything for you! And not once have you. Ever. Given. Anything. Back!" For each word, Stanford felt pain crash into his face, a blow against his raised arms, a kick to his chest… "All you do is bleed us dry!"
Stanford forced himself to stand against the painful barrage, each hit forcing him back another step. "Stanley, please stop! This isn't you," he beseeched through his gasps of pain. Something desperate and determined flared within his chest, allowing him to cling to his resolve. To not to give up. To somehow reach through to his brother. I have to save him. "I know that you don't really want to kill us both!"
"The hell I don't! Don't You DARE tell us how we're supposed to feel! You've NEVER cared about how we really felt!" The top of the symbol was now creeping up his neck, trying to take root on the lower portion of his jaw.
"That's not – I…" Stanford stumbled back, mouth opening and closing almost comically as he struggled to form a coherent rebuttal, but nothing came to mind immediately. It was hard to think with those vibrant eyes searing into him like a pair white-hot coals dropped into a bank of snow; with his own heartbeat pounding nearly deafeningly in his ears and drowning out every other thought in his head. In an unconscious desperation, Stanford's eyes darted away from the towering shadow of the man before him, and over to the boy still huddled over and kneeling next to the ruined remains of the portal. The small shuddering curve of the child's back was barely visible at all through the near non-existent blue light. Silvery ash and black soot swirled in the air around them like drops of colored ink in a whirlpool. Stanford could do nothing but stare blankly for a moment or two. It was stunning, how small and insignificant Stanley's first fragment appeared in comparison to the chaos all around them. And yet, it was his choice, and his alone, his feelings, that had seemed to cause it all.
Stanford's shoulders started slumping, arms lowering from their defensive positions as realization incrementally and uncomfortably dawned on him. A lump lodged itself in his throat that he couldn't quite swallow down. Something was cracking within him, slowly unraveling at its seams. Attempting in vain to regain his composure, he let out a frustrated growl before allowing his sharp, and now slightly wavering, gaze to slip back over to the second fragment's menacing silhouette.
"Maybe… maybe you're right in some respects." Stanford relented after a moment, wincing slightly at how raspy and soft his voice had come out. "Maybe I haven't cared as much as I should have." He started struggling to his feet again, eyes darting dizzyingly between the three fragments before settling on the nearest and staring at him, imploring, trying to get him to see reason. "But I do care, Stanley. I… I do."
Stanley stalked toward him again, taking no heed of the words, his eyes dimming slightly, though it made him no less menacing. Stanford stumbled backward until he suddenly slammed into something cold and unforgiving. His eyes darted to the side to see the dim silver frame of the portal. "Yeah. Right. Ya really will say anything to get me to fuse back with my other selves and save your own skin, won't ya? But how 'bout you try not to pick such an obvious lie next time, eh? Like I was saying before, ya aren't very good at it. Though, I wish that there were a way to get ya to just leave and let us die here in peace."
Stanley raised his fist to once again start his vicious onslaught, but it came to a sudden halt midair making Stanford blink in confusion. His head tilted to the side, staring at him with unreadable glowing orange eyes. He seemed to be taking a thought into consideration. Then he gave Stanford an odd look, the visceral rage on his face, melting away into something more subdued.
"I'll tell you what. If you want a doorway out of here, then I'll go ahead and help imagine one for you right here, right now. You can be out of here and on your merry way within a matter of moments, huh. How does that sound?"
Out of everything Stanford had expected him to say, that was near the bottom of the list. He gritted his teeth and glared as a sudden surge of formless grief and blinding frustration squeezed his heart, and caused unbidden tears to well up in his eyes."No," he whispered.
Stanley's entire body twitched as if an insect had stung him, and then his eyes narrowed dangerously. Stanford swallowed hard, but held firm. "I… I followed you into the nightmare realm. I cracked open the entryway into the dreamscape to get you free. I'm not leaving you behind Stanley." Stanford glanced over to the small shivering form curled up on the ground. "I told the younger version of you that I wasn't going to abandon you, and I meant every word of it."
Dark wrath once again flared up onto Stanley's features, and in response, the shadows in the room thrashed spastically around them. The mindscape groaned, and the ceiling cracked sending rubble crashing down over to their left in a massive pile. Stanley's whole body shook with fury, but when he spoke his voice was eerily quiet, contained.
"Just go, Sixer. Leave us to die," he hissed through clenched teeth. "Go away. Take your house back. Take your name back. Take your life back."
A pressure that had been rising within his chest since the moment he entered the nightmare realm, pressing against his heart as it built like a high tide, finally cracked and burst. Stanford took a step toward him, eyes wet and shining."I WANT MY BROTHER BACK!" he screamed, his voice cracking with the strain of his warring emotions.
Stanley stumbled away from him, eyes widening for the first time in what could only be utter shock. Then he gave a harsh snarl, and paced warily in front of Stanford while pointing an accusing finger at him. "SHUT UP!" Stanley screamed back, matching Stanford's intensity. They both stood and stared at one another, panting and fatigued, but neither one willing to back down. Stanley regarded his twin with a ferocious expression, but now there was something else there… a guarded caution. His body was tensed and wary, no longer holding the easy confidence from before.
Then his brand flared like the sun, intensely vivid with ire, and Stanford watched helplessly as the symbol stretched to the point where it was partly obscuring Stanley's face. Slowly, the fragment began to step toward him, each footfall radiating a threatening energy, but Stanford held his ground. When he spoke his voice once again started off with that chilling quiet tone of restrained fury.
"Ya may be able to trick the pipsqueak with your fake sincerity, but don't think for a moment that you can fool me!" Yet, the more he ranted on, the more his voice became unrestrained, wild, vengeful, building up to a deep yell. "Unlike him, I don't try and sugar coat the past!"
Then Stanley stopped in his tracks, his body trembling as if in pain. The glow from his eyes shone brighter and brighter with fury. And suddenly, they were extinguished. His visage was plunged into pitch blackness, blending the fragment seamlessly with the dark of the chamber.
"I. Remember. E͖̘̭ ̺͕V̦ ͚̩̝̥͇E ͇͔̜͉̮R̯͍͇ ̮͓̮̳Y͇̭̝͕̙̞ ̬̲͓͔̖͙Ṱ̯̰͚̯͇̣ ̥̩̖̟H͍̫̰̦͓̙ ͕̣̦͕̠I ̲N̦̟̹ ̬G̤̥̻͚̪̠̲!"
His shout crescendoed into a deafening roar, and the orange glow erupted back to life in a flash, blinding Stanford. The mindscape responded in kind by giving off its own violent tremble, tearing debris off the structure of the Stan O'War. Stanford couldn't help but cry out as the floor beneath him melted into ash. He tried to gain footing, but he was caught fast in it. The splintering remains of the ship disintegrated into charcoal colored sand, and as his gaze flitted around in a frantic bewilderment, the basement transformed almost unrecognizably before Stanford's eyes.
Surreal as it was to experience, it seemed as though the heart of his brother's mindscape was being transposed to a monochrome beach, one that stretched out for eternity in either direction. A dull thundering of ocean waves to Stanford's right caught his attention, and he turned his head slightly to look upon a rolling, churning, expansive pitch-black mass, highlighted and outlined by streaks of shimmering silver foam. Unnerved, his eyes slowly trailed up away from the water to stare at the stormy grey nothingness of the distant horizon, and the eerie bleached emptiness beyond. The shoreline gave another tremble and lurched beneath Stanford, interrupting him from his surprised daze. He tried to steady himself to regain his footing, but entire chunks of ground were now crumbling completely away. The sky itself was beginning to crack as though it were an egg, a near blinding whiteness cutting between the patches of the hazy atmosphere.
The portal lay like the bony, flesh stripped carcass of a beached whale within the shallows of the broiling grimy sea. Stanford could barely see the figure of the fragment still hanging within it's ceaselessly staring eye. Black inky waves ebbed and flowed around the small child-like version of his brother sitting slightly closer to the beach. The water was nearly covering him completely, but the boy didn't seem to notice or even want to acknowledge the sheer destruction around him. His desolate sobbing was lost to the cacophony of noise, and he covered his ears tighter, rocking back and forth.
The bright sigil was now devouring the second fragment hungrily, spreading a little more before giving a rageful pulse. Stanford watched in terror as the light from the third fragment's chest dimmed like a lantern being snuffed out, only to stagger back half a second later as that same blazing bright inferno engulfed the shadowed man before him. The darkness that had cloaked his form before now violently lashed around the scorching fire, wrapping him into a dark cocoon and obscuring the raging orange radiance within.
Stanford covered his face as the wind shrieked around them, throwing up sand and pieces of wreckage. He called out his brother's name, but his voice was lost to the chaotic noise. The shadows were shifting, incubating something within their sinuous mass. They morphed, growing larger and larger, as something… something inhuman gave a bone-chilling roar from their depths.
Then the shadows began to crack, and the orange glow of the inferno within became visible through the webbing breaks. A giant beastly claw suddenly shoved through the gloomy veil, breaking off flecks of dark wispy particles like an eggshell. The newest victim of Bill's demonic energy, once a fragment of his brother, now a… a monster, savagely clawed and ripped its way out of the writhing dark mass that encircled it, until it was finally free of its confinement.
The creature stood at its full height before his twin, towering over him on the beach of the decaying mindscape.
Stanford shook his head, taking a single step back in horror. "Stanley," he whispered. "No."