Ford sometimes didn't know how he felt about Shermie, or more accurately he didn't know how his older brother felt about him. Other times though, he felt content, protected, and loved by his older brother, and he could barely remember how it felt when he was left out by his brothers. Most of those times were when Shermie played Dungeons, Dungeons, & More Dungeons with him.
Shermie wasn't home very much, and when he was he didn't always have time for such a long game, but he still regularly set some time aside to play with Ford. He didn't really understand the math and statistics part of the game, and he frequently forgot the rules, no matter how many times Ford clarified and corrected things.
While Shermie wasn't the best at the game mechanics, he was amazing at the storytelling aspect. More often than not Ford would get emotionally invested in the characters, even the enemies he was supposed to be fighting. Shermie was also in the habit of giving Ford challenges that weren't so straight-forward.
Multiple times he had to make tough decisions that usually didn't have a good solution. Ford couldn't just save people, he had to figure out how to make a choice about who to save. And Shermie always included in his dungeons and stories the consequences of whatever decision Ford made. Stan still made fun of him because of the time when he had cried himself to sleep because he couldn't stop thinking about the town he had saved from werewolf attacks, only for the werewolf to be a little girl who had embraced the curse because she was treated as an outcast in the village.
Ford had tried to cure her, but because she had chosen the curse, the counter-spell wouldn't take. To save the village, Ford had to kill the little girl. He'd mentally prepared himself to have to explain to the girl's family what had happened, but he hadn't been ready for her parents to refuse to acknowledge that she was their little girl, and for everybody in the village to say that they were better off without her.
Ford had been the only one to grieve the poor girl, and he was the one who had killed her. He had been devastated after that game. Shermie had felt guilty, and it had taken a long time for Ford to convince his brother to play with him again.
Ford was excited to play with Shermie again. Not only had it been a long time, but Dipper and Fiddleford were both joining in, and he couldn't wait. The game was always so much more fun with other people.
They set up in the kitchen, with Ford preparing Shermie's character and dungeon sheets for him. He tried to focus on the charts and papers, but he couldn't help but listen in as Shermie talked to Grauntie Mabel about how Stan was doing.
Of course he was asking about Stan. It was always about Stan. Ford tried to push down his jealousy, because he knew that Shermie had probably been told by Ma what Pop had done. He should be worried about Stan, and Ford shouldn't be upset about that.
Mabel talked about Stan's Spanish lessons with Soos, and how he went on motorcycle rides with Jimmy. Shermie didn't seem concerned that Stan's only friends were so much older than him. He just laughed and said that he had expected nothing less.
They were soon ready to play, and even though Shermie was clearly distracted and wanted to talk to Stan, he jumped right into his story. He had believed Ford's little fib about how Stan had previously made plans with Soos, and that was why he had run off so quickly.
Shermie's mind was elsewhere, but he quickly got them hooked in his story. In this game, Dipper's elf, Fiddleford's dwarf, and Ford's fae needed to go to the dark side of the fairy realm to bring home a priest who had run away from his responsibilities.
Finding the priest wasn't the problem. Convincing him to get off his lazy butt was the real challenge. The priest was crude, angry, and put petty curses on them whenever they said something he didn't like. He was a very mischievous halfling, and he kept on tricking them, but thanks to a perfect role from Fiddleford, they were eventually able to convince him to come back with them.
There had been no emotionally jarring moments in this game. Just a frustrating, but fun, priest. Ford had just started to think that Shermie was taking it easy on them this time around, but then they brought the priest back to the temple.
It turned out that the priest's main responsibility was to be a human sacrifice to appease a vengeful god. If the sacrifice didn't happen, the god would destroy not just this city, but the entire land. In his youth the priest had been chosen to be the sacrifice, and this was not the first time he'd tried to run from his fate. Now the god was getting impatient, and there was no more putting it off.
Fiddleford had wanted to find a way to fight the god and spare the priest. Dipper said it was too risky, and sacrificing just one person was worth it to save countless others. It was up to Ford to make the choice, and he froze up. He couldn't. He remembered the poor werewolf girl. He couldn't do that again.
They spent way too long in the game just debating what should be done. Either Shermie could tell that he was conflicted, or he was bored and wanted to finish up the game, he had the priest make the decision himself. He made the sacrifice, though he made Ford's character swear a magical oath that he would take care of the priest's family for him.
It wasn't the most emotional game that Ford played with Shermie. That honor still went to the werewolf girl. This one was up there though, and Fiddleford and Dipper seemed to agree.
"Shermie, that was amazing." Dipper said a few hours later, when the game was over and done with. "You've still got a knack for story-telling."
"That was great." Fiddleford wiped at his eyes. "I'm gonna have a hard time playing a priest next time I play."
"I've always had a hard time playing priests." Dipper said, though that was for completely different reasons.
"Are you nerds done yet?" Mabel asked as she pulled a casserole out of the oven. "Just in time." She gave Shermie a hug from behind. "You make that game sound just a little less boring. That priest was great. I admit though, my favorite character of yours is still the Silent Prince."
Dipper's eyes brightened. "Oh, I remember that one. Wasn't he from that book you were writing when you were, like, ten?"
"I was thirteen." Shermie said. "I never really liked the Silent Prince. He was always too selfish."
"He was relatable." Mabel said. She looked at Ford and Fiddleford, who looked equally confused. "The Silent Prince was a kid who got cursed with a spell of silence by his evil father. He had to go on a quest to the enchanted forest to find his voice again."
Ford didn't really read fantasy stories, but this story sounded interesting enough, and he already knew that Shermie was great at telling tall-tales. It was a book that he wouldn't mind reading, and he was impressed that his brother had made up a story like that when he was his age.
"Did you ever finish that story?" Dipper asked. "The curse gets broken, doesn't it?"
"Mostly." Shermie said. "The Silent Prince could talk again, but the magic returned whenever he tried to talk to his father."
"Why doesn't the prince overthrow the king?" Fiddleford asked. He hadn't ever hesitated to suggest an uprising against oppressors, which had gotten him in trouble at school multiple times.
Shermie chuckled and shook his head. "You know, kid, I'm still trying to figure that part out."
Mabel beamed. "You're still working on it?"
"It's a process." Shermie said.
Ford frowned. "Why would you work on a story that you don't like?"
Shermie grimaced slightly. "Because that's the story that refuses to leave my head. Writing it out helps a little, or at least it helps me to look at things another way."
"I feel the same way about art." Mabel said. Ford still didn't understand it. Maybe it was just a grown-up thing.
They fell into casual conversation as they ate dinner. When they were done Mabel took Fiddleford home while Dipper and Ford started to clear out one of the storage rooms so that Shermie could have a place to sleep.
Ford was given the job of taking the boxes and notes from the spare room downstairs to the basement. He was happy with this task, because he saw it as a sign that Dipper trusted him with his belongings. Ford would show his great uncle how responsible he could be.
He knew just what Dipper's organization method was. He didn't just throw everything in the room and call it a day. Everything was put where it belonged. After he brought everything downstairs, it took Ford about fifteen minutes to finish organizing. When he was done he went back upstairs to see if there was something else he needed to do. In the spare room, Shermie and Dipper were talking, and Ford immediately got the feeling that this wasn't something he was supposed to overhear.
"Ma said you guys are going to be the boys' guardians from now on." Shermie said. "Will you have the means of taking care of them?"
"We'll figure something out." Dipper said, which didn't inspire confidence in Ford. That was what grown-ups said when they didn't know what they were doing, but they didn't want to admit it. "Mabel's been thinking of selling her art, and I can substitute at the high school."
"If you guys need any help-" Shermie began to say. Dipper cut him off.
"No, Sherman, you need to keep your hard-earned money." Dipper said. "I know you feel like you have more than you'll ever need, because you don't have a lot you need to spend it on right now, but someday you will have bills, and you will appreciate having something saved up."
"I know." Shermie said. "I just…listen, I've come up with a back-up plan."
Dipper sighed. "Okay, what's your plan?" Ford recognized the tone as the same one he used when he was humoring one of Mabel's ideas.
"I've talked to my supervisor." Shermie said. "The navy can help pay for school, for sailors or their dependents."
Ford leaned against the outside door as he listened. He didn't understand. He and Stan weren't Shermie's dependents. Where was his brother going with this?
"I've thought it all out." Shermie said. "I've found a boarding school that Ford would absolutely thrive at."
Ford bit his lip. Shermie had looked at schools for him? It warmed his heart and made him feel guilty for questioning that his brother cared about him. But why would Shermie do this? And what did he mean that he'd found a school for Ford? What about Stan? Their brother hadn't meant to separate them, had he?
"And what about Stan?" Dipper asked.
"I'd keep him with me." Shermie said. "I can get a job transfer so I won't have to go out to sea so much. I can take care of Stan."
Any warmth that Ford felt when Shermie heard his brother's plan for him froze when he heard about his intentions for Stan. Shermie wanted to raise Stan, but he wanted to send Ford out to school? Was it because he couldn't afford to take care of both of them, and he would only get money for school for one of them? That was probably the case, but Ford couldn't shake the concern that Shermie either thought that Stan wasn't smart enough to deserve to go to a fancy school, or he didn't care enough about Ford to want him around all the time.
"Sherm." Dipper sounded heartbroken. "Kid, you sound like you've been thinking about this a lot. How long have you been putting this plan together?"
Shermie was quiet for a moment before he sighed. "Since I was seventeen. It's a big reason why I decided to join the navy in the first place."
"But why?" Dipper asked desperately. "You're still so young. You shouldn't worry about this stuff." Shermie didn't say anything. Dipper sighed, sounding tired. "Shermie, why have you been thinking of getting custody of your…brothers…" Dipper trailed off and Ford's eyes widened as a horrifying thought came to him.
Dipper and Mabel were their guardians now, but they'd only intervened like this because they found out what their dad did to Stan. It wasn't really that surprising that Shermie might think about the same thing, but what scared Ford was just how long he'd been thinking about it.
Since he was seventeen. That was four years. He'd been thinking of getting his brothers away from their parents since they were just nine years old, and he wouldn't do something so drastic for no reason at all. Ford could only think of one reason why Shermie would do any of this, and it brought tears to his eyes and made him so furious that he couldn't contain it.
Ford slammed the door open. Shermie and Dipper were sitting on the couch. Dipper had his arms around Shermie, who looked like he was upset, but Ford couldn't bring himself to care. All he was thinking about was Stan, who had been hurt by their dad since they were six years old. Stan, who had been afraid of their pa for as long as Ford could remember, though he'd been too blind to really think about why.
Stan, who had begged Ford to do him a favor because he couldn't bring himself to face their older brother, who had known about all of it.
"You knew." Ford said quietly, his voice trembling. Dipper and Shermie looked at him with wide eyes. Shermie looked like he was about to start crying, which just made Ford more angry, because how dare he sit there and get upset when Stan was the one who had been getting hurt?
"Ford," Shermie's voice broke. He sounded more vulnerable than Ford could remember hearing from him, but he didn't let himself feel sympathy.
"You knew!" Ford stomped towards his brother. "You knew that dad was hurting Stan, and you did nothing about it!"
Something in the back of Ford's mind reminded him of all the times when Shermie would take Stan out for a fun day out, just the two of them. He wouldn't do that if he didn't care, but Ford didn't know how somebody who cared about their brother could stand there and let him get hurt.
Ford remembered the nights when he would be woken up by Stan crying. It didn't happen all the time, but still often enough for it to be a recurring and concerning problem, and it was one that Ford had never once asked about.
He'd climb down from his bunk and crawl into bed with Stan, offering him what comfort he could. In the morning he would make hot chocolate to make his brother feel better. Ford told himself that was enough, but now it reminded him too much of what Shermie did. He would do fun things for Stan , as though that would make up for where he had failed.
"Your little brother was hurting, and you just sat there and did nothing." Ford remembered when their dad would get angry. The rare times he got mad at Ford, Stan would always stand up for him. Ford though had never said a word to defend his twin. When Shermie was around when their dad was mad at Stan, he would seethe angrily, but he would always look the other way and stay silent. Shermie would stand up to anybody, except, apparently, their father.
"You let him take the fall for you." Ford's voice cracked as his chest tightened. He felt overwhelmed with fury and despair, and he felt like he couldn't help but let the feelings out. Ford knew that even though Stan was the one known to break things, there had been times when Ford had messed something up himself. People assumed it was Stan's fault, and both of them let them. Ford had always just been glad to have a brother who protected him, but now he felt sick to his stomach at the thought.
How many times had Stan gotten a black eye because Ford had spilled his chemistry experiments on the kitchen table? How many bones had been broken because Ford had wanted to stay out all night to watch a meteor shower?
He was yelling at Shermie, but the fury wasn't directed just at him, because he wasn't the only one who had failed.
"Stan counted on you!" Ford squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists as tears began to fall. Shermie had always said that he would be there for Stan and Ford whenever they needed him. And Ford and Stan had promised each other that whatever happened, they would get through it together. They'd both failed their baby brother, and Ford didn't know how they could ever make it up to him. "S-some brother you turned out to be."
Ford felt a gentle touch on his arm. He choked on a sob and launched himself forward into his great uncle's arms. Dipper picked him up and held him close, just like their mom might. Ford just cried, feeling like he was just a little kid again. That just made him think of six year old Stan being hurt by a man who he trusted, who was so much older and stronger than him, and the thought made Ford scream in horror and cry even harder.
Dipper didn't say anything to comfort him. He didn't scold him for yelling at his older brother and being too harsh. He just held him and rubbed his back. Ford clung to his great uncle and cried into his shoulder. He was carried out of the room. Ford forced his eyes open and looked towards Shermie. The last sight he had of the room was that of his brother leaning forward on the couch, hiding his face in his hands. His shoulders were trembling and Ford realized that Shermie was crying just as much as he was.
Shermie, who was always so strong and happy, who he had never seen sad, was crying, and it was all Ford's fault. He'd let down his younger brother, and he'd broken his older brother. Ford bit his lip and sobbed, ducking his face as he felt his chest twist painfully. He felt like the worst brother in the world.