Ford felt like he could scream too, but no sound was able to leave his throat. He wasn't even sure he was able to breathe. All he could do was stare at his twin and his great-niece standing a stone's throw away, able to smell the curse of undeath on them even from the distance.

Above them, Bill's laughter rattled everything from the trees to the earth, and Ford was unable to block any of it out. The only thing he could hear over that damning laughter was Dipper's hysterical screaming that didn't even sound human anymore.

Bill seemed to take pleasure in Dipper's shattered psyche, turning his blazing golden eye downward at them. "DON'T BE LIKE THAT, PINE TREE," Bill rumbled, sick humor dripping from his voice. "WELCOME YOUR GRUNKLE STAN AND YOUR SISTER! YOU'LL HURT THEIR FEELINGS IF YOU KEEP SCREAMING LIKE THAT." Pause. "OH, THAT'S RIGHT. THEY FEEL NOTHING ANYMORE! BECAUSE THEY'RE DEAD!"

Dipper screamed louder, clawing at his scalp, pulling painfully on his ears as though to tear them off and rid himself of Bill's taunting voice. Ford reached over and tugged Dipper to him, burying the boy's head to his chest and putting his arms over him, shaking with terror and rage at the beast in the sky, a thousand and one screams and insults flashing around in his mind, but nothing coming from his throat.

He clenched his eyes shut, feeling a blur of wetness run down his face. All of this pain, this terror, this SUFFERING….all because he was so desperate for answers to questions that shouldn't even have been asked. Because of his hubris, the world was ending, half his family was dead, and all that remained was breaking into pieces in his arms.

'I'm sorry,' he thought, sending mental apologies to Stanley, to Mabel, to Dipper, to everyone being terrorized in Gravity Falls, and soon, the world. 'I'm so, so sorry...' He felt a whimper crawl up his throat when he heard the dragging gait of his dead twin come closer, his arms tightening around Dipper. He absently wondered if he could spare the boy any further suffering; a quick snap of the neck and it would be over with—

"…Ford…"

Ford stiffened, coldness creeping over his spine when he heard the death-rattled voice of his brother speak. No. No no no no no no, it couldn't be real, it had to be another cruel joke of Bill's. He kept his eyes shut tight, his hands shakily raising to Dipper's head.

"Ford."

"Keep…keep your eyes shut, Dipper," Ford murmured. "It'll be over soon…I…I promise…"

"Ford."

His hands tightened around Dipper's head, muscles tensed to make it quick.

"STANFORD."

Ford yelped when his wrists were grabbed by inhumanly strong, dead-cold hands and pulled from Dipper's head. His eyes snapped open, his body frozen when he saw his dead brother, holding his arms tightly, dead light-glowing eyes staring down at him. He could see Stan's body move with slow, rattled breathing, and swallowed down bile when he smelled the scent of decaying, stale blood on Stan's breath.

He didn't know how long he sat there, waiting for the agony of having his flesh torn and eaten—or worse, seeing it done to Dipper first—but seconds passed, and he became aware that Stanley wasn't making a move. Only that steely grip on his arms reminded him that Stanley was even there and this wasn't some terror-fueled hallucination.

Ford felt Dipper press his face into his chest and whimper, bringing him back to reality. He tugged on his arms, feeling more tears fall down his face. "Please!" he choked out, shaking. "Please…!" He didn't know what he was begging for. For Stan to eat him and not Dipper? To let him put Dipper out of his misery before anything else happened? For Stan to come to his senses and TRY to remember, SOMEHOW? "S…Stanley…I'm sorry…Stanley…!"

"Stanford."

That time, Ford was CERTAIN he heard his brother for true under that death rattling. He looked up, searching those dead lights desperately, seeing nothing behind them, but he DID see Stan's face look less monstrously dead and more calming and genial. Hope sprung anew, and Ford swallowed hard. "…Stanley…?"

Stan let go of Ford's arms, gaze dropping to look at Dipper, who was practically a shaking cocoon in Ford's coat, his expression turning sad before evolving into rage, hands clenching so tightly Ford could hear loud cracking, the zombie turning his glare upwards at Bill, who appeared to be too busy wreaking chaos to pay them any mind for now.

Ford put his arms around Dipper, swallowing hard. "…Stanley," he said again. "…Are you….you?" Stan glanced back over to him, visage going sad again.

"…No," he replied. "Not anymore." He looked skyward, where THINGS were beginning to crawl out of the tear in the dimension, low, guttural growling echoing through the air. "But I am not HIS either."

Ford almost doubled over when he felt a strong punch of nausea hit him, feeling as though his insides were freezing and thawing rapid-fire. He retched for a moment before looking back up at Stanley, realizing this nauseating feeling of having his body experience this thrive-and-die sensation was coming from HIM.

Stan turned back to the Bottomless Pit, where Mabel was standing motionlessly, and reached out his hand, fingers curling with a sickening crack. A sudden overwhelming smell of rotting flesh and carnage swept over the area moments before bodies began to crawl out of the Pit. Ford could recognize some of them being from the FBI; but the majority were those he'd never seen before, some mostly intact, some with bite-size chunks missing, but the majority looked as though entire limbs had been eaten off. One particular larger man wearing a pink Hawaiian shirt had his entire chest cavity emptied.

If Bill wasn't paying attention before, he was NOW. He turned a glowering eye to Stan. "WHAT IN THE—!?"

"YOU DO NOT CONTROL ME!" Stan snarled. He held out his hand to Mabel when Bill's eye turned to her, keeping her in place. "YOU DO NOT CONTROL MY FAMILY!" He pointed up at Bill threateningly. "YOU WILL NEVER—EVER—HARM MY FAMILY AGAIN!"

The undead scrambled from the Pit and began attacking the creatures that came from the rift, biting and clawing and tearing them apart, the creatures reanimating soon after perishing.

Ford held Dipper tighter, trying to keep the boy's head turned away from the carnage. Dipper turned anyway, unable to stop from staring at Stan commanding the dead into attacking the creatures, and Bill apparently throwing a fit.

"Oh geeze oh geeze, oh man, what even the—"

Ford and Dipper turned when they saw Blendin scrambling back from everything, looking terrified. Dipper's eyes flicked to Blendin's belt and saw the time travel tape intact clipped on. He sat up, jerking on the chains.

"Blendin!" he called over, getting the man's attention.

"Dipper Pines! What IS all this!?"

"Blendin, PLEASE!" Dipper begged, jerking on the chains. "Please, get us free! PLEASE!"

Blendin looked between the two captives and the carnage for a moment before swearing under his breath, stumbling over and pressing a button on his wristband, the chains around Dipper and Ford's wrists shattering off. Dipper made a grab for the tape, but Blendin leaned back. "Whoa, wait a—"

"YOU!" Bill's earth-shattering voice screeched out, eye trained on the trio. "YOU WILL SUFFER THE TERROR OF A THOUSAND REALMS IN HELL FOR THIS!" He raised a hand toward them, and Ford pulled Dipper to him tightly—

Bill let out a roar that sent shockwaves through the air when his eye was pierced through with a grappling hook, gushing hissing black ichor. Dipper followed the line of the grappling hook's rope to Mabel, who held onto the gun and stared up at the demon contemptuously.

"M…Mabel…!"

"GO!" Stan bellowed. "GET OUT OF HERE! NOW!" He picked up an axe and hurled it up at Bill, distracting the demon further.

Blendin jerked out the time travel tape, turning to Ford and Dipper. "Time-damn it, it's against the rules, but—" He tugged on the tape and grabbed the other males. Ford clung to Dipper tightly as the boy reached out for his sister—and then they vanished.