Chapter 24

Disclaimer: Alex Hirsch owns Gravity Falls, not me. Warnings include heavy language throughout the chapter and thoughts/attempt of suicide starting around 1975.

~1972, October~

"Stanford, this is Doris Spruce. Doris, this is my brother, Stan."

Stan shook her extended hand with a blank face, noting the artificial nails she wore. "Hi."

Stanley gulped, visibly nervous. Doris raised an eyebrow at him. "Hello."

"Uhhh, Doris works at the museum with Fiddleford. She transferred from California about a month ago and, um, well, I wanted to introduce you to her."

Her brunette blunt bangs covered her forehead, hair up in a high bun, face shaped as a heart. Her high waist, boot-cut jeans hugged her hips, scarlet button-up shirt undone at the top, showing off her cleavage. Her green eyes had a glare in them, as if judging his very presence. He didn't like her one bit. His leg cramped with a phantom pain, from the motorcycle accident from a year before, and he reached to the side table next to the couch for the bottle of painkillers labelled Vicodin. He struggled with a shaking hand to open the bottle as he spoke. "Oh, so you know Fiddles?"

"Fiddleford is a brilliant curator and I'm frankly surprised he doesn't work at the university instead, considering his mindset." She replied, eying his struggle.

"I think Fiddles does fine at the museum." He shortly replied, handing it to the extended hand of his brother.

Stanley decided to interrupt by this point, in order to avoid a fight, as he opened the bottle. He handed it back to his grimacing twin. "Uh, Doris and I were thinking about going to see that new movie about the shark."

He dumped nine pills into the palm of his hand "Oh, well have fun."

His brother blinked in surprise. "Really?"

"Well, I'm not your parent, so whoever you decide you want to go on a date is none of my business."

"Oh, uh, well, I'm going then. See you, uh, later." He left the room with his date.

As they left, he heard Doris whisper to her date. "...this place is kind of old and gross...want to come over to mine after the movie?"

Stan felt his blood boil as the front door clicked shut. This was their home and they loved it dearly. It had been the first house they had lived in and they all agreed it had a cozy atmosphere, but it seemed as though Doris Spruce couldn't view it as such. He wouldn't lose his temper though, because soon his twin would realize she wasn't right for them. He smiled a bit, as the painkillers set in, realizing it would happen soon. "Stupid Doris."

~1974, November~

"Doris and I are expecting." Stanley informed his brother, twisting his wedding ring around his finger with nerves.

He froze, turning down the volume of "Saturday Night Live", and turning his attention to his brother. "...what?"

"We're, um, going to have a baby."

Stan stared at his nervous brother for a long moment, before laughing breathlessly. Stanley worriedly watched his nearly hysterically twin. "S-Stan?"

Stan lurched forward from the reclining chair, tackling a brother, embracing him tightly. "A baby! My little brother is having a baby!"

"Stanford, we're not getting into this argument, again. Just because you were born two minutes ahead of m-wait, you're actually happy?"

"Of course! You're going to be a dad an-I'M GOING TO BE A FUCKING UNCLE!"

"Ok, we need to talk about language if you're going to be involved in my child's life, because you need to tone it down."

"What?! Hell no!"

"STANFORD!"

"A DAMN BABY!"

~1975, The End of June~

Stan realized he hadn't been happy for a long time, and it probably all started when the police caught him in Colombia. But, being taught from a young age by his father to suck everything up, he had done just that. But, after five years, Stan realized that feeling of wanting to overdose on your pain medication wasn't a normal one. In fact, it was a suicidal one.

His lover for life had cheated on him. He had spent a year in Colombian prison being beaten and having his self-esteem eroded everyday. His brother had been taken away from his by a woman he hated, and who had similar feelings. His best friend had been spending more time at home, then with him anymore. The pair had pulled the plug on their work, finding it unable to work correctly, putting all their work, including his own, to waste. His phantom pains in his leg were worsening, causing him to take 13 pills in one sitting yesterday and causing him to loose consciousness for awhile. And, to top it all off, he had been having horrendous dreams about that demon he and his brother had met. He had taken to drinking a bit heavier than usual to drown his thoughts, which might of explained why he had thrown up when he woke yesterday. He didn't need help, or, at least he didn't think so, especially since he now lived alone in the Shack, Stanley moving in with his heavily pregnant wife.

He needed a escape though, he just needed it, or he might act on the impulse to empty the whole bottle of pills right at that mome-

"Well, well, well, Stanford Pines, it seems you're in a bit of a pickle!" Bill Cipher laughed out, observing the slightly tipsy Stan, glaring at him, reaching into the fridge for another beer.

"Fuck off, Cipher." He ground out, opening the bottle of beer, and taking a swing.

"Now, now, now, that isn't anyone to greet someone!"

"Well, it's how I greet anyone I find annoying."

"Oh, come now, I'm sure you've met more annoying people!"

He slumped down onto a seat at the kitchen table. "Nope, you're the most annoying."

"If I was so annoying, would I actually want to help you? I don't think taking so many pills and drinking like that is good for a meat sack like yourse-"

"Ok, look, Cipher I honestly don't think hanging out with a demon is a smart idea and frankly I don't trust you."

"That's what Lincoln said, but who was the one that decided to make a deal to win the Civil War? You're acting exactly acting like that man, and we became the best of buddies! In fact, he gave me his hat!" Bill pointed at the hat floating above his head.

"Rightttt, and is there a reason why he was murdered by an assassin after winning?"

"That was, ah, a simple repercussion to our little deal, but that is beside the point, as you won't end up dead. I can help you though, make your life back to normal." A wisp of smoke created by the dream demon's hand, produced the outline of Carla, Fiddleford, Stanley, and himself standing by one another.

The brunet waved the smoke away. "You must think I'm idiot if you think I'm gonna make a deal with you."

"I know you don't trust me, but if you listen to my tiny favor, in return you can get whatever you want."

"No."

"Pleaseeeeee?"

"Go away."

"Pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-"

"I said no! Now, leave me the hell alone!"

Bill sighed and floated closer. "Stanfordddddd, I know how you feel."

"You don't no shit about me."

"I know how pointless everything seems, I promise you I know," Stan didn't even glance up from the beer bottle he was staring down. "I know how hard it is getting up in the mornings and how painful life is. I know the burning, the burning inside your heart. I can fix that though, trust me."

He was silent for a moment, before whispering. "...what do you want?"

"No, no, no! We're starting with what you want! What do you want? Do you want your brother back? Do you want the memories of Colombia to go away? Do you want your best friend and brother to have a working portal? Do you want Carla back?"

Stan squeezed his eyes shut. Carla. Out of everything that seemed to burn his heart the most. Oh god, it burned his insides so dearly, god. He wanted her back so desperately, but...she wasn't his any longer. No, he couldn't have her back. But...his brother was so important to him. His brother was so disappointed when the portal didn't work and he felt so bad that his brother's life work didn't work. He knew what he would wish for. "I want Stanley's portal to work."

"Of course. And, in return, I simply want to burrow your body for the week."

Stan blinked, glancing up with a skeptical look. "My body?"

"I simply push your soul to the back of your mind and take control for just a week. I haven't had a real body in sooo long, and I get ever so lonely."

Stan could understand loneliness, he truly did. He was burning inside from the loneliness. Besides, what the hell could Bill do with his body anyways? There wasn't much that could go wrong. Only problem was... "People are gonna notice when I start acting different."

"No, no, because nobody pays that much attention to you anymore. They'll never notice," It was true, oh god, it hurt to say, but it was true. No one had cared for such a long time, and it burned deeper within. God, he needed to stop the burning, god, it was ruining him. He reached out a trembling hand, thinking about how lonely he was, and how much he wanted to make his brother happy. Stan made contact with the demon's burning one. It felt warm, safe, unlike the burning within his heart. "It's a deal, Crescent."

~1975, 1 week later on July 4th~

Bill Cipher was right about everything. His nephew had been born over a week ago, and soon after, Stanley had decided to try the portal once more, Fiddleford had agreeing on this as well. They both claimed, that in their dreams, they had visions of the portal operating. They toke it as a sign to continue on. They never notice Stan's unnatural behavior, the injuries he kept giving himself, the fact that he no longer had his pills for his chronic pain, or that he was suffering from withdrawal of his medication. Bill found the final one hilarious, even as he hugged the toilet seat, throwing up his stomach acid, since he never ate in that whole week. They never heard Stanford, deep within his body, screaming for help from the demon overtaken his body. And, he never knew what Bill was planning, until the Fourth of July.

"It's time, Crescent, it's time." Bill giggled, as he woke that morning.

"What the fuck does that mean?! And, stop calling me that!" He echoed throughout his own mind.

"Time for breakfast and for the final adjustments!" He sniggered to himself. Neither his brother or best friend were in the kitchen, having worked throughout the night as usual. Bill burned Stan's body several times as he made omelets that morning and his body ached for a taste. Stanford felt every bit of the pain. When he entered the lab, they never noticed the burns scattered across his arms or legs, in his white tank top and boxers. They didn't make a noise as he set the plates down and edged out of the room, focusing on the portal they were making adjustments on.

"Tonight's the night!" The triangle sang out, as he bounded down the stairs leading to the basement that night. The fireworks went off throughout town, the perfect time to operate a loud machine, as he entered the lab. He wore a Shiner's hat, a dark suit, a pair of Oxford's, and a maroon tie. The pair looked up from their work this time in confusion. "Happy Fourth of July!"

"You as well, but, uh what are you wearing, Stan?"

"Oh, I just decided to try out a new outfit, Fiddles."

Fiddleford appeared slightly skeptical at this reply and Stanford felt hope swell within himself. Please, notice! Please, I'm not me! Save me! He was abruptly pulled away from his skepticism, as Stanley shook his shoulder in excitement. "Fiddleford, it's time to start it up."

Stan sobbed for relief, knowing he would never receive it at this point. Bill Cipher was planning a truly devious plan and he could view it flashing throughout his mind. He screamed for them to watch out, but to no avail. They simply started it up, not noticing the eerily grinning Stanford Pines in the background. Instead, they beamed at one another, as the portal lite up, proud of their work, as it produced an echoing, humming noise. "My god, we've done it."

"You know what comes next, Fiddleford." Stanley replied.

Fiddleford frowned at him, shaking his head. "Stanley, no, we agreed if we did succeed, we wouldn't do it. It's too dangerous sending a living being through it."

"Only in theory; we can do it!"

"Absolutely no-"

"Do it." Bill cut in.

The pair looked to him. After a moment of silence, Fiddleford pointed at his panther, face set in an stern appearance. "Only if we send something through it first."

Stanley nodded, before picking up a partially eaten apple lying nearby. ""We'll tie the apple to that rope you bought the other day and throw it in."

"Fine," The curator replied, snatching the fruit from him, and heading to a pile of discarded rope they used in past experiments. He tied and double knotted some rope around it, tugging on it to be certain that it was securely snug around it. He tossed it into the air and caught it. "We throw it in for five minutes and return it."

They did exactly that and it returned to exactly pristine condition, thought it was freezing cold to the touch, a patch of ice forming on one side of it. "See? It's fine. I just need to wear winter gear for warmth an-"

"Wait, I thought we agreed Stanford would."

"Yesss, I thought we agreed on me." Bill chimed in, receiving odd looks from them.

"Are you feeling alright, Stan?" Fiddleford questioned.

"Sorryyyyy, I might be coming down something."

"All the more reason for me to go." Stanley firmly stated.

"No, I can do it just fi-" The dream demon replied, attempting to hide his excitement about Stanley going as a replacement. Warning signs blared in Stan's head and he caught an image of his plans. Stan screamed in horror at what was in store for the scientists and he could do nothing to regain control of his beaten body.

"No, I'm going and it's final."

"...fine, let's just get that heavier gear then." The curator begrudgingly replied.

Stanley couldn't conceal his visibly apparent eagerness of going into another dimension as he pulled on a thick black snow jacket and pants over his current pair of clothes. He folded up his lab coat, setting it down upon a nearby table, stacked with paperwork. He pulled on his thermal socks and winter boots, ignoring the concerned looks Fiddleford had. His forest green scarf, was wrapped around his neck by his 'brother' and he appeared surprised. "I didn't think you would so willingly let me do this."

Bill removed his glasses and shoved a beanie matching the color of his scarf onto his head. "If you really want to do this, I can't stop you."

The scientist frowned at these words and was handed his glasses. "You're going to need these later."

He plucked them from his brother's icy hands and shoved it into his snow jacket with a frown. "Why are your hands so col-?"

Fiddleford handed a pair of snow goggles, which Stanley had nearly forgotten, sliding them onto his face. He stepped into the safety harness presented by his panther and patiently waited as his thicker frame was strapped into it. The curator struggled for a moment to secure the front of the harness to the man, weight protruding out around his waist. He sucked in his stomach and Fiddleford was able to secure it. "I think my weight may be getting a bit out of hand; remind me to lose some once I get back."

"That's what you said when my wife made sweaters for you two last Christmas and your's couldn't fit over your stomach. Do you recall how you gave up just after one workout with your brother?" Fiddleford replied.

"That's because he nearly killed me with that workout!" He defended himself, glaring at his beaming brother. "And look how proud he is about it!"

"Oh, I'm not proud right now, I'm elated!"

"I'm seriously about two seconds from punching you in the face."

"This is definitely not a time to be fighting you two; if the harness becomes damaged, it might cause you to become stuck in the other dimension." The curator sternly informed them.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about the harness breaking." Bill replied and Stanley's eye twitched in irritation.

"I should hope not." Fiddleford replied, loosening the harness around his partner's shoulders.

"You just have to worry about the rope." The dream demon whispered corruptly, causing Stan to panic internally.

"Ok, I'm ready."

"Are you sure, Stanley?" The curator questioned nervously, clearly not all that keen on him heading into the portal.

"Yes, I'll be back soon," He confirmed, as he secured the snowboarding goggles onto his face. He nodded to the pair. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck, bro-bro." Bill was nearly giggling, as he jumped into the portal, leaving the pair to secure the rope with their hands, tying the end to a knob they installed into the ground. Stan realized what the dream demon had planned would occur now and his best friend would suffer from this event and that Stanley would not be back soon.

"10 minutes and we pull him back in." Fiddleford yelled over his shoulder at the other Pines brother, not noticing Bill cutting into the rope from the knob with a pocket knife Stanford carried on his person. When the rope snapped, unbeknownst to Fiddleford, the curator lurched forward from the sudden lost of support from behind. "Stan?!"

The support returned a moment later, much to his relief. "Sorry, I lost my grip for a moment."

"That's alright, as long as it doesn't happen, again," He felt the rope shift and Stan was suddenly flush up against his back. "Um, Stanford, you need to be further back, in case the rope snaps, so you can re-tie it."

The brunet became even closer, hands going around his body, and onto his own hands. "S-Stan?"

He looked upwards to the man's fave, finding him beaming eerily down at him. "Let go."

"W-What?"

"If you don't let go, I'll break your arms."

"S-Stan, what are you talking about?" One of his hands was jerked away and he lurched forward, releasing a yelp of pain as the strain began to pull the curator forward. "S-Stanford!"

"Wrong guess, Glasses."

Fiddleford's eyes widened at this. "B-Bill?"

There was a snap as Fiddleford's arm was broken by the dream demon and he screamed in agony. His arm released the rope and so did Bill at the same exact moment. As the curator fell to the floor, grasping his arm in pain, the rope disappeared into the portal. Fiddleford, through his haze of pain, witnessed this and reached out his hand. "STANLEY!"

The triangle began to giggle darkly, stumbling around as an explosion of sparks erupted from the portal. Fiddleford screamed in the background and the portal screamed with him. Moments later, the power in the whole building went out and the screaming ended. There was complete darkness and silence, when Stan was returned to his body, on his hands and knees. A red glow engulfed the room, emergency light kicking it. The portal remained silent though and he glanced around. His body ached horribly and his head throbbed. He sat onto his bottom and looked at his typically chronically pained leg, realizing the constant phantom pains were no longer present. That wasn't important though. "F-Fiddles?"

There was a broken sob to his right and he witnessed the huddled figure of the curator cradling his broken arm. He felt his stomach churn as he realized what happened and he lost the contents of his stomach across the floor, which wasn't much, since he hadn't ate in days He realized his body trembling might be from the fact that he hadn't had a meal for nearly a week. Thank god, Bill had at least listened to Stan's cries for water. "F-Fiddles, y-you o-ok?"

He received no reply and began to crawl over to his friend, limps trembling from weakness. He reached his friend, gently touching his shoulder. Fiddleford pushed away with a cry of fear, scrambling away. "D-Don't touch me!"

"F-Fiddleford, I-I didn-"

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" He was shoved violently away, falling flat onto his back.

"F-Fiddles...I...where...S-Stanley..." The shove must of finally pushed him to breaking point, for everything went completely dark.

~1975, September~

"This place is a pigsty." The feminine voice spoke into the silence of the living room.

"This isn't your place, Doris," Stan replied, staring blankly at the muted Star Trek episode being played on the television set. "What are you doing here?"

"A house call I suppose, since I haven't heard from you since the morning you told me what happened to my husband."

"Just tell me why the hell you're actually here."

"Watch your language," She replied, rocking the sleeping baby in her arms. "And, I was doing just a house call. Nobody comes out for two months, so I was just making sure you were still alive."

"What, you think I would go ahead and actually kill myself?"

She frowned. "No, I don't think you would, though I wouldn't say you wouldn't let yourself go. You actually look on the thin side at the moment and you have a beard hanging down to your shirt. Speaking of your shirt, when I was the last time you washed it? It looks like it's been through the ringer."

He sighed. "Did you seriously come here, just to criticize me?"

"No," She readjusted the bundle in her arms and Stan couldn't help but stare at him. He appeared peaceful, face scrunched up with sleep, skin pale. It occurred to him that was only the second time he had seen Alexander Pines and Stan thought he was as beautiful as the first time had laid eyes on him. Despite only seeing him twice, he loved his nephew to pieces, knowing he would do anything for the baby. "I came to tell you I'm leaving Gravity Falls."

Stan frowned. "...what?"

"Alexander and I are leaving town and going to live with family in California."

"...why?"

"There's nothing left for me here. The museum isn't paying me enough to raise a child, Fiddleford isn't quite right, and my husband is never coming back."

"You don't know that he won't come back."

"Then, why are you wallowing in self-pity?"

Stanley wasn't coming back. The portal wouldn't turn back on, no matter what he or Fiddleford did. It wouldn't ever, as it wasn't supposed to work in the first place. The theory was ahead of it's time and the only way it would operate would be if there was a supernatural interference. Such as a dream demon playing it's hand with destiny. "Why the hell are you telling me this?"

She shrugged, visibly uncomfortable. "Well, I figured since...you're...you're the only...well, you're Alexander's...uncle and I know you...and you...we care..."

Oh, she knew how much he loved his nephew, despite only seeing him twice. He stared at the muted screen once more, that familiar numb feeling returning. "I know what you mean."

Doris scratched at her cheek, freckles scattered across her pale face. "Maybe...I'll come by, just so you can see him every once and awhile."

"...what?"

"Only if you get your act together though. If I come here and it's like this, I'm just going to leave, because my son doesn't need to see anyone wasting away like this." She replied with a huff and Stan was reminded of when they had first met.

"...ok."

"Alright, well, my the bus is going to leave soon, so I need to catch it." She began to leave the Shack, baby snuggled to her chest, leaving Stan to blankly stare at the television set. She paused as she opened the door, glancing over her shoulder, whispering his nickname instead of his full name for once. "Stan?"

"...what?"

"I...I...won't tell Alexander what really happened, I'll just make up something. And, I...I..." She seemed to struggle with what she wanted to tell him, before shaking her head and leaving without another word. That was the last time he would ever see Doris Spruce, again. Stan wouldn't see Alexander Pines until his mother passed and he had to foster the teenager until he would be of legal adult age. She never did keep her word of visiting, despite Stan getting his act together in the end.

~1975, December~

He tittered on the edge of the abnormal cliff, staring down at the forest below it, wondering if Fiddleford would appear to recuse Stan from drowning in his own emotions. Of course he wouldn't though, as he was distracted with his own sanity slipping from beneath his feet. Thunder rolled and lightning struck in the distance, a light sprinkle of slushy snow covering Gravity Falls. Stan wore Stanley's Princeton hoodie and pair of sweatpants hanging from his frame, house slippers becoming damp from the water. His hair was shaggy and face had the beginnings of a beard present. He trembled, hugging himself, discovering his body to thinner than before. Stan could care less though, finding everything to be simply pointless in the end. And, it was the end, for he planned on dying that early morning time. Before the sun would even come up, he would be dead and he felt relief at this concept. "Crescent, that isn't the brightest idea you've had, not counting the one when you thought making a deal with a demon would be alright."

He stared straight forward, shadows underneath his eyes, ignoring the glow from behind. "Leave me the hell alone, Cipher."

"Well, I can't leave you alone, or you might die, and destiny can't have that."

"Since when do you care?"

"I don't care; you're just part of my wheel and I need you around for that."

No one cared any longer and he couldn't live with that. Carla, Fiddleford, Susan, Doris, and Stanley weren't around, so he had not a single soul to wonder what could possibly happen to him. "...goodbye, Stanley..."

He stepped off the cliff with no hesitation, free falling as the rain and snow splattered into his body. He felt a numbness within his head, catching a glimpse of Bill Cipher floating at the edge of the cliff, observing his fall. He made contact with the ground and for instant he felt his entire being was on fire, body blazing from the agony of impact, blood scattered across the thin blanket of snow and forest below. Then, the pain pulsed, edging ever-so carefully from his form, and he saw the glowing light. He blinked though, squinting into the darkness, raining splattering his face. "W-What?"

Bill Cipher floated above him and he frowned, as he realized what had occurred. "...I'm not dead."

"As I told you, you can't die, as you're part of my wheel, and my wheel has just begun it's movement."

"Fuck you. That was all I had left and you took it away," He spat out, blood dribbling down his chin, then released a scream, as the dream demon vanished in a flash of light, the sun rising above him. "DAMN YOU CIPHER!"

Chapter 24 End

So, I'm actually a bit nervous on this chapter and I hope you readers didn't find this back story out of character. the final part of Stan's recounting of his past. Notes included are: I feel as though Stan would be jealous of Doris intruding and find her to be a replacement of Carla to their group, though that would obviously not be the case. Doris would viewing him as nuisance, considering his personalty. As you can see in though, towards the end, they come to a bit of an understand, realizing what they do have in common was their love for Stanley. The shark movie referenced is "Jaws", which came out in 1975. The overdose amount of Vicodin is 90 milligrams or roughly 18 pills. Vicodin is typically used for those with chronic pain. When Bill would be through with his body, I imagined he healed this pain, so it wouldn't interfere with the wheel's destiny. I actually would think Stan was excited about being an uncle, but imagine that Doris wouldn't trust Stan enough to let him be around and having Stanley agree with his wife on this matter, finding Stan to be irresponsible with a child. Susan wouldn't be there for Stan after he lost his brother, as she was attempting to help her husband keep his sanity and save their failing marriage. I hope this wasn't too dark for a teen rated story. As always, favorites, follows, and reviews are appreciated!