In My Corner

Part 1 of the Boxing AU

Chapter 9

Ford introduced Fiddleford to Stan ("You're a Ford too?" "Well you're also a Stan." "Good point."), and after their first meeting, they got along surprisingly well. After that was taken care of, Ford had thought that the days would continue as they had before.

But once again, he was wrong. Stanley was a very welcome addition to their group. He would take care of the meals and the chores around the house, something Ford often neglected. Stan also helped with the heavy lifting for Ford and Fiddleford's work and he often spent time in the portal room with the two, keeping them company.

When they weren't working, the three of them would enjoy a movie, a meal, a romp through the woods, or a DDandMD session. While Stan often grumbled and complained about having to play, Fiddleford and Ford knew that he secretly enjoyed the game. They could tell from the enthusiastic way Stan always wanted his actions to result in a dice roll.

Surprisingly, at least to Ford, Fiddleford and Stan would willingly spend time with each other. They would often talk about various subjects Ford wasn't particularly interested in (cooking, music, pop culture). And Ford had even caught the sight of Fiddleford sitting on his brother's back while Stan did push-ups.

The first time he had seen them, Fiddleford sitting crosslegged and nonchalantly reading his notes while Stan did his workout, Ford had been.. surprised. It had been a long time since he had seen Stan so comfortable with anyone, since.. Shermy, or Carla.

Ford was.. glad. Yes, he was happy that his best friend and twin were getting along.

As for when he was alone with Stan, well, it felt like old times. Although they didn't become the sailing treasure hunters Stan used to talk about, they were an unstoppable duo of adventurers. Or, a trio if Fiddleford was with them.

It was a dream come true.

-000-

One day, when Stan was upstairs and Fiddleford and Ford were working alone, Fiddleford brought up an unexpected topic.

"Stanley? What about my brother?" Ford asked, a little distracted. He was working on one of the circuit panels in the control room. Even with Fiddleford, the work was still going excruciatingly slow. There were so many parts to design and make, not to mention organize. The wires alone were going to be hell to keep track of.

"Oh, just…" Fiddleford trailed off awkwardly. Ford didn't notice and Fiddleford was able to screw up the courage to continue. "Stanford, did you ever notice.. that your brother happens to work out a lot?"

"He's a professional boxer," Ford replied absently.

"Mhmm. And why is he staying here then?" Fiddleford continued.

"I think he was getting pretty overwhelmed with his publicity. His last victory made him quite famous," Ford said, his attention still focused on his work and not the conversation.

Fiddleford stared at Stanford and sighed. He rubbed the back of his neck and said, "What about his, you know, habits?"

Now that got Ford's attention. He stopped and pulled out of the control panel to stare at Fiddleford. Was his friend really suggesting what he thought he was suggesting? And Ford thought his twin and his friend were getting along.

"Fiddleford," he started, "If you're talking about the reputation the press has made for him.. I mean you've spent enough time with Stanley, you know it's wrong-"

"No!" Fiddleford interrupted. "No! That's not at all what I mean, Stanford. It's just.. I think you need to watch Stan a little more closely, that's all. Watch him sometimes? I mean, you did say that you found him in a Mexican underground fighting arena? Why does a famous boxer like him go there?"

Ford scowled at his friend.

Fiddleford sighed again, "Look.. I didn't want to say anything…"

"What didn't you want to say, Fiddleford?" Stanley said, crossing his arms.

"I think.. that your brother may be injured," Fiddleford admitted, guiltily.

"What?" Ford exclaimed.

"Stan didn't tell me anything, but that's the impression I have. If he didn't tell you, it's really not my place to say anything," Fiddleford said.

Ford deflated. Here he was worried that Fiddleford.. But no, Fiddleford was only worried about his brother's health. How could he doubt that Fiddleford had anything but the Stan and Ford's best interests in mind? Sometimes Ford wondered what he did to deserve such an amazing friend.

However, it seemed a little strange that Fiddleford would notice that Stan was hurt when Ford didn't notice anything wrong.

"How is he hurt?" Ford asked.

"Er, well, I'm not doctor, but his knuckles are quite damaged. I think they get sore on occasion?"

"His knuckles…" Ford mumbled. Now that he thought about it, Stan's fists were pretty beat up. Ford was more used to the sight of them than Fiddleford, his brother had earned quite a few of them in their younger years. Many of them were earned through some of their more childish adventures, but Ford knew that some were earned through some of Stan's out-of-ring fights.

Currently, Stan's fists were even more busted up than before. They were covered in new scars that boxing didn't quite explain. Stan had waved Ford off, telling him that they were left over from training and the occasional bar fight. But there were still so many...

"Maybe," Fiddleford continued, "He didn't want to tell you that he hurt himself, because he didn't want to worry you. You said he was brawling, bare fisticuffs in Mexico?"

Repeated like that, Ford could see why Fiddleford jumped to conclusions. And he wasn't even there to see Stan beat someone up, bare handed. Maybe Stan really was injured and he hadn't noticed. He slumped, feeling guilty.

"Yes," Ford said softly. "There's a possibility that Stan wouldn't tell me if he thought he might worry me, the Knucklehead. He would take a blow to the head and tell me he was fine."

"Imagine that," Ford said dryly.

He would have to talk to Stanley about this later. "Thank you, Fiddleford. For telling me."

"You're welcome, Stanford," Fiddleford said.

Later that day, after Fiddleford had left, Ford had confronted his brother about his knuckles. Stan had blinked at him, then laughed. Stan had then told him that 'of course his knuckles would get sore if he wasn't wearing any protection.' And that if Ford was so worried about 'his precious widdle hands,' Stan would make sure to wrap them before he did any more boxing training.

Ford had pouted, annoyed that such a simple thing could have stopped Fiddleford and him from worrying. However, he was happy that it was such a minor issue that could be quickly put to rest.

-000-

The summer days were hot in Gravity Falls, and this summer seemed to be especially hot. Fiddleford and Ford emerged from the house, the conditions too hot to continue working. Walking outside, they would have been greeted by the sight of a shirtless Stanley, chopping wood, but they had been blinded by the sun. Ford squinted in the sunlight and Fiddleford actually hissed.

Upon seeing their reactions, Stan threw his head back and laughed. "What's wrong, nerds? Your delicate eyes to weak for the sun?" He guffawed.

"Stanley, you shouldn't be in the sun when it's this hot," Ford said, still squinting.

"At the very least, stay hydrated," Fiddleford added.

"Aw, Fidds, aren't you Southerners used to this sort of heat?" Stan teased.

Fiddleford rolled his eyes.

"Dehydration and sunstroke aren't jokes, Stan. You should come inside and rest for awhile," Ford lectured.

Stan grumbled something about 'prissy scientists,' but he put his axe down and joined the two in the shade. He was then struck by an amazing idea.

"I have an idea! Why don't we go to the river nearby?" Stan suggested with a big grin. "It's a perfect day to go swimming."

Ford wiped at his brow, "I don't think that's a good idea. We usually prepare first before going out."

"Aw, come on, Ford. Don't be such a spoilsport," Stan groaned. "Tell him, Fidds."

"Normally, I wouldn't agree with Stan-"

"Hey!"

"-But, the house is way too hot, we could get heat stroke," Fiddleford finished.

"Yeah!" Stan agreed. "Besides, it's probably too hot for the creatures too."

Ford could feel the perspiration gather on his back and on his brow. Perhaps it would be a good idea to take a break. "Alright, let's go to the river," he sighed.

"Sweet!" Stan exclaimed. "I'll grab us some Pitt Cola." He gave the two scientists a sweaty hug before running inside. Fiddleford and Ford grumbled and swatted at Stanley, but they also smiled. Stanley's enthusiasm could be infectious.

As soon as Stan was back, they headed off.

-000-

They arrived at the river without delay and Stan immediately waded in, shirt and all. The water was wonderfully cool and he splashed the others. He laughed when they yelled, but they soon jumped in after him. The first few moments they spent horsing around and splashing each other. Between the heat and the rough housing, the three managed to tire quickly. Comfortable and drained, sat beside the river in the shade and sipped their drinks.

Later, Stan excused himself to go relieve himself. Ford lectured him on making sure not to let it run off into the river and Stan told him he would make sure to go a ways away before taking a piss. Despite his grumbling, Stan did go far enough away that he wouldn't be 'ruining the delicate ecosystem,' as Ford had put it.

He was heading back, when he heard yelling.

Assuming the worse, Stan broke off into a run. When he broke out of the forest and onto the bank of the river, his worst fears were confirmed. There was giant, menacing, and ugly creature standing over his brother and his friend. Fiddleford was on the ground shaking and Ford was in front of him, trying to shield Fiddleford from the creature's gaze.

Stan didn't even hesitate and tackled the thing into the river.

-000-

"Stanley!" Ford yelled.

Ford and Fiddleford had just been relaxing when they had heard a crashing through the woods. They had chuckled, thinking it had been Stanley stomping about.

They were wrong. Out from the trees had emerged a Gremloblin.

They gasped. This wasn't the first time they had dealt with one and Fiddleford still had nightmares about being exposed to the creature's horrible gaze. Fiddleford had scrambled back, shaking. Ford tried to help his friend up, but Fiddleford was completely overrun with fear. His eyes were dilated and he twitched, helpless. Leaving his friend wasn't an option and Stan put himself between the Gremloblin and Fiddleford.

Then Stanley had come and tackled the beast into the river.

Now it was Ford's turn to be frozen in fear.

Suddenly, the two burst out of the river and somehow the Gremloblin was even bigger and nastier than before. Irt snarled at Stan, but Stan just snarled back. He glanced back at his brother and Fiddleford. "I'll keep it occupied," Stan yelled, while he dodged a swipe. "Just look after Fiddleford!"

Fiddleford groaned.

Their voices broke Ford out of his trance. Ford did a quick check-up on Fiddleford, but Fiddleford wasn't responding. He was shaking horribly and was curled up in fetal position. Ford would have carried Fiddleford away, but he wasn't strong enough. All Ford could do was hold Fiddleford in his arms while his brother fought the Gremloblin.

Stanley wasn't doing so well.

He was breathing heavily and Ford could see the tell-tale signs of him getting tired. His clothes were ripped to shreds and he seemed to be bleeding from everywhere. Ford watched in horror as the monster swiped at his brother. Stan responded too slowly and got a cut above his eye. The blood gushed out, blinding him in one eye. Staggering, Stanley was unable to run from the monster's grasp. It grabbed his brother and brought Stan to eye level. It's eyes began to glow.

"Stanley!" Ford cried out in alarm.

Stanley punched the Gremloblin in it's ugly face.

Flabbergasted, the monster let go of it's prey and Stan took the chance to slug it across the jaw, then he slammed another fist into it's face. The beast stumbled back, but took the chance to stare at Stanley again, eyes glowing.

Stanley just snarled.

It took a step back in surprise, then another, and it ran away.

The area was suddenly quiet again. Stan's ragged panting seemed inordinately loud. Ford stared at his brother's back, mouth open.

Stanley started laughing hysterically.

"That's right!" He yelled. "You run away!"

He then began to limp back to Ford and Fiddleford. "You guys, okay?" Stan asked.

Suddenly, Fiddleford grabbed Stan, yanking him onto his knees. The twins flinched in surprise. "Are we okay?" Fiddleford gasped out, clutching desperately onto Stan's shirt. "It looked straight into your eyes! Are you okay!"

"I'm fine, Fidds!" Stanley said, alarmed. "I've had worse fights."

Fiddleford's hands fluttered over Stan's face. Stan tried to smile reassuringly, but his teeth were covered in blood. "Well, as long as you're," Fiddleford swallowed, "Fine."

Stan took one of his friend's hands and gently squeezed it. "I'm fine," he said again.

Fiddleford stared at Stan's face. After a moment, he gave a shaky smile back. Stan's smile turned into a more honest grin and he helped Fiddleford to his feet.

Stan turned to smile at his brother. Ford offered a small smile back. When Stan turned back to Fiddleford, Ford's smile disappeared.

Author's Ramblings -

Thanks to all the reviews! They really make my day and I'm so happy to get them. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I liked being able to write the Mystery Trio (but they're not the main draw of this fic).