Ford's eyes snapped open seconds after he hit the ground, but there wasn't a ground to hit. There wasn't even a cave. He lay facefirst in a starry void. A great gilded throne glided past, trailed by a covey of yellow-aged books waddling after it. Middle C did a jig with a gin and tonic before downing the drink and combusting in a glittery shower of piano keys. A Picasso cartwheeled past, juggling the theory of relativity and expounding on its flaws. All this, and his first thought was how he could possibly be laying facefirst in a starry void unless gravity was somehow present, therefore it could not truly be a void.
"Smart kid!" Fiddle-not-Fiddle chirped from behind him. "Welcome to the mindscape. Thought you'd like a view. Sorry I couldn't first-class you over in the first place, but I got my limits right now. Macgyvering a long distance skinmap wasn't my preference, but had enjoyable side effects. Paranoia and neurosis are always fun."
Ford rolled over, tensing against the pain of his broken arm.
But there was no pain. Not even an ache. No sling either, and his shirt wasn't ripped and there wasn't a scratch or patch of dirt to be seen anywhere on his hide. He lifted his hands, wriggling all twelve fingers together before squeezing six shut, then the other six, and opening his hands again. They all worked perfectly.
"You're welcome!" The voice chirped, and Lee finally looked up.
Perched atop a wall-mounted set of antlers minus the wall was a strange, flat yellow triangle with a single eye set in the middle. It bowed itself slightly forward, doffing a little top hat with long, sticklike appendages that neatly mimicked a child's drawing of limbs.
"Name's Bill. And you're Stanford Pines, the man who changes the world. Well," it laughed, swinging down from one of the ten antler points. "We're getting ahead of myself, not a man yet. Here, Sixer." He reached behind his back and pulled out a length of dried, fishy-smelling cord. "Frog intestines. Gift from me to you."
Ford didn't move a whiskerlength. His eyes roamed the space around him, searching for his brother and their friend.
"Oh, don't worry about knucklebrains and scrambled strings." The triangle pulsed as it spoke, shades of yellow alternating with faint oranges and reds. "Stringboy is here." He gestured at the area in front of him, and a section of the void unravelled to reveal Fiddleford, carefully cupped in the folds of the universe. "All tuckered out. Don't worry, he'll be fine. We'll need him later."
Ford's heart ballooned up in his throat, hitting all sides and choking his response. "You're the one givin' out wishes ta get us."
"Wish, Sixer. One wish, and lucky you!" Bill was next to him, and Ford hadn't even blinked. Bill wrapped an arm around Ford's shoulders, his voice pitched and chipper. "You turned yourselves in! You get one wish. Better cash it in now, kid. Whaddaya want? Just say the word, and anything is yours!"
A hyperintelligent shade of the color blue invented a universe and half before realizing it was bored and leaving the half-a-universe to slowly decay. A wave of ants rolled across shag carpet, chewing the fibers down to sharpened spikes as they retreated.
Ford nearly swallowed his tongue. He had to be sure of some things.
"Where's Lee?"
"Roundabouts, not in any trouble."
"Mindscape, what's that?"
"In your heads, kiddo."
A six legged fire tied itself in knots trying to explain how Betty bought a bit of better batter. A young stocking voiced its heartfelt desire to run in the races one day.
Ford looked down at his hands. "So, not real."
Bill eyed Ford's hands. "Nope. That's still broke when you wake up."
"Then fix us!" Ford blurted. "All us, you heal up Lee an' Fiddle an' me. Specially Fiddle's head. An' the drawin'!"
"Oh, hah, that." Bill laughed. "Consider it done. Can't believe you'd think about your brother, though. He's sure not thinking about you."
Ford hugged his arms, glaring shards at the triangle.
"You think I'm lying, don'tcha?" Bill's eye curved up as if he was smiling. "Y'know, you're kinda cute when you're stupid. Lemme enlighten you, Einstein." Stretching out a hand, he peeled back another section of the void, as if drawing back a curtain. Behind it sat Lee. His brother stood in front of a mirror, flexing his arms and making funny faces. He did this at least twice a week, checking to see if he'd gotten any more intimidating, usually slouching away from the mirror in defeat. This time, however, his reflection mirrored a strong young man, possibly in his twenties, flexing back at the ten year old.
Ford lunged forward, but his feet stayed put and he fell flat in the void.
"Hey dumbbell!" Bill floated up behind Lee. "I've got your brother. I think I'm gonna turn him inside out and make his legs come out his ears. How about it? Want to get him back?"
Lee didn't even turn, working his chest muscles and admiring the effect in the mirror.
"You can't do it!" Ford squeaked. "Not possible!"
A little girl on a stool floated by, clutching her skirts and screaming about a spider. Bill lifted his hand and snapped his fingers, and suddenly the spider climbing the stool leg stretched wide and tall. The little girl's legs vanished, and the upper half of her body jammed onto the spider, fusing inseparably. A full-length mirror appeared before her, and she clutched her head, screaming.
"It's a mindscape! You said it!" Ford shouted. "You can prolly make anythin' happen here and it ain't real! That's prolly not even Lee!"
Bill chuckled. "Smart for a young Pinetree. But I don't need you to believe me. Thanks for coming though." He rubbed his hands gleefully. "Only had enough realworld juice for one wish and a few parlor tricks. Now you're close enough to the Bleed, time for real fun."
"What real fun?" Ford took a step back.
"Oh, nothing much. Just a few of these-" he picked up the image of Lee goofing off, popping it down to a hand-sized photo. With a flip of his hand, one photo had become a thousand. There was Lee, laughing at the new books he'd bring in. There was Lee, peeking over his shoulder on every test for the answers Ford worked hard for. There was Lee, doing nothing with his life but draining Ford of his. "-planted around your subconscious should do the trick. Can't have him hanging around."
"I know what you're doing!" Ford shouted. "I'll know it's not real! Lee's always there fer me! He's always got my back!"
And then Bill was huge, the size of two tall buildings and leaning over him, the eye so big it looked fit to swallow him up in its desperately black pupil. "You talk brave, kid, and I like you, but you gotta ask yourself one thing. If your brother's always there for you, where is he now?"
Ford's limbs all locked up. A faint echo sounded in his ears.
"Ya gotta promise me somethin'."
"Sure, anything."
"Don't ever run off an' leave me alone again. Can't take it. Promise me."
"Promise. Won't happen ever again."
"Sound familiar?" Bill shrank down again, shrugging. "Don't worry, Sixer. He ditched you, and he'll get what's coming."
A tremble crawled under Ford's skin, and he couldn't think of anything but Lee screaming in agony.
"Nah, nothin' like that. But someday, he'll be in your shadow. And you're gonna like it. I'll even help." Bill wound his arm back and sent the photos flying. They spread out, winging like crazed hornets into the void, heading in all directions at once.
Bill hovered over Fiddle, sunk in up to his elbows in Fiddle's forehead.
"What're you doin'?!" Ford screamed. "Layoff!"
"Relax. I just gotta hide a few things here, nobody'll notice. You're gonna need it later. Remember this number. Nine-eight-five-six-five-five-two-five-zero-zero." The numbers marched out from various bricks on Bill, following the flying photographs. "You'll need someone to build a machine. This guy will have the blueprints you need. Or, now he will."
Ford clutched his face, his knees slamming together and his lungs hammering to get out. Or was that his heart? Maybe his heart was heaving for air. He couldn't tell anymore. He needed Lee. Lee had to come beat this thing up, make it go away.
Bill was over him now, and nothing moved right. "He ain't coming, Sixer. And he'll never be there for you when you really need it. Learn this real fast and you'll be better off." Bill raised his hands, and Ford swore his heart stopped. "You only got you to rely on. Sweet dreams, and remember, you always got a home in Gravity Falls."
…..
Lee pounded his fists against the nothing that separated him from Ford in the void. It felt like wall but didn't even have the shine of glass to show itself. Everything came through crystal clear soundwise to him, but Ford never turned once to his screams, so it had to be one way.
His throat hurt, his eyes burned, his arms throbbed from beating the nothingwall. He couldn't stop, that thing had its hands in his brother's head and was twisting stuff all around.
"Shame, isn't it?"
Lee didn't turn around. He wasn't going to bother with the stupid triangle. He had to break through to his brother.
"All that muscle and not enough brains to be any kind of useful. Shame, that kind of teamwork would have been nice if you had the same smarts."
Lee kept pounding his fists, gritting his teeth.
"Bet it doesn't feel so good getting looked down on, while your brother gets all the praise. Bet it feels bad being the dumb one."
Finally, Lee turned on Bill, clenching his fists.
Bill raised his hands. "Don't get me wrong. You got muscle to make up for it. But what good is it," and Bill leaned forward, flashing blood red, "When you'll never be able to save him?"
Lee took a step back, his heel hitting the nothingwall as Bill's voice deepened, the red falling off in slick drops into the dizzying void. "Your brother's the lucky brain that's gonna help me bring the biggest party the world's ever seen, with me as top DJ forever. It will never stop, it can't be prevented, and there's nothing you can do to protect him, or anyone else. All that strength for nothing."
The words left Bill's pupil, shrieking out into the void and copying themselves over and over, sinking burning brands into every fold they could find.
"Stop it!" Lee shrieked. "Get out!"
"Happy to. Just one more thing." Bill reached for him. "Can't have you remember this. He's gotta think it's his idea when he comes back. Hold still and stop wriggling. It doesn't hurt. Much."