Ford was used to waking up in pain. At this point, he couldn't remember the last time pain wasn't the first sense that hit him when he woke up. Even when he was a little kid, he would have sore muscles all over the place because he'd pushed himself too much to keep up with Stan. Once they hit High School, Ford would always have bruises from bullies. Once he was in college, the pain had been the lingering hurt and betrayal from what Stan had done, as well as lingering soreness in his body because he didn't get nearly enough sleep.
After he came to Gravity Falls, Ford had prioritized his research over his own safety, and he'd gotten hurt a lot because of it. And then Bill happened, and it was impossible for him to wake up without some very concerning injury.
It had been a while since he'd had a head injury though.
Ford groaned and tried to bring his hand to his head, only to find that he couldn't move his arm more than an inch or so. He didn't feel like he was tied up, but he was confined a little bit, and it didn't make him feel good. Bill liked to mess with him, and he always did such horrible things when Ford eventually let his guard down and fell asleep.
He'd tried so hard to stay awake, but his body betrayed him, as it always did. He was scared to see what the damage was, but he was even more terrified of lying here, because there was no knowing if Bill had left him with a parting gift. Last time, the demon had caused a gas leak, leaving the stove on without igniting it. Ford had nearly had to go to the hospital because of carbon monoxide poisoning. If Bill had done something like that again, it was better to know sooner rather than later.
Ford groaned and tried to sit up, but he heard a furious growl and he was pushed harshly back to the bed.
"Don't move." He heard Shermie say harshly. "Don't even think about it."
Ford opened his eyes and looked at his brother. He was taken aback by the harsh glare being aimed at him. He'd never seen Shermie glare at him like this. The only person he'd been this angry at was Pa.
"Sh-Shermie?" Ford looked at his brother with wide desperate eyes. "What's wrong? What happened?" He didn't try to sit up, and he tried to force himself to not feel too panicked about the way his arms were a little stuck. Shermie clearly didn't want him to move, and he didn't want to startle him.
His older brother's eyes flashed. "You don't remember?" Shermie scowled, looking furious and desperate. He leaned closer to Ford, though he noticed that his brother was still out of arm's reach. "Look me in the eye and tell me you don't remember."
"I-I don't remember." Ford's chest tightened as his fear increased. "What happened? Shermie, w-what did I do?!" Bill. He had done something. He had to have done something, because he always did. The demon got a kick out of ruining Ford's life, and he wouldn't squander this opportunity. Ford's family was here. Despite his distance from them these past ten years, there was no better way to hurt him than through his brothers.
Ford knew first hand just how vicious Bill's torture could be. It was sadistic. He'd experienced it himself, and he felt ill at the thought of his brothers being subjected to that. There was a physical pain in his stomach that felt like it was going to eat him alive when he thought of Bill not just hurting his brothers, but doing so with his hands.
Shermie hesitated. He didn't look hurt, and Ford knew his brother. Shermie was angry and protective right now, and he didn't get like that when he was protecting himself. He did it for the sake of those he cared about. Ford quickly scanned the room and felt like he couldn't breathe when he didn't see a sign of his twin.
"Did I hurt Stan?" Ford asked quietly. He knew deep down that anything that might have happened wouldn't have been his fault, it would have been Bill's. But his brothers didn't know about the demon. If Bill had hurt them, Ford couldn't just jump into the denials. He would explain more later, but first he needed to know just how bad he'd messed up.
Besides, even if Bill was the one causing any actual harm, he wouldn't have ever gotten the chance if it wasn't for Ford. At the end of the day, this was all his fault, and he couldn't blame anybody else.
Shermie sighed and leaned back in his chair. He ran his hand through his hair. "The damage isn't lasting." Shermie said slowly. "He's more scared than hurt. And frankly, so am I."
"What, exactly, did I do?" Ford asked.
Shermie stared at him blankly. "I took my eyes off of Stan for just a few minutes. While I was gone, you caught Stan off guard and I came back to find you trying to drown him in the bathtub."
Ford's breath got caught in his throat. His stomach churned and his nausea increased ten-fold. His body reacted instinctively. He lurched up as he retched and threw back up what little food he had in him. He couldn't even bring himself to feel disgusted about getting vomit all over himself and his blanket.
Tears pooled in Ford's eyes and when he stopped vomiting he couldn't stop coughing and sobbing. Part of it was just his body's reaction to getting sick, but a larger part of it was that he felt like his soul was broken and there was no coming back from it.
Shermie scooted closer and rubbed Fred's back.
"Stan's okay." Shermie assured him. "He's alive. He's just fine. I got to him in time."
"But what if you hadn't?" Ford sobbed. So many times these past ten years he had felt like he had lost his twin, but it had been a distant thought that he could just push to the side. If he couldn't see the problem, he didn't have to think about it. But Stan was right here. He couldn't just avoid and ignore him. Ford couldn't help but look straight at the reality that he'd almost lost his brother, and it would have been all his fault.
Ford shuddered. "What if you don't make it next time?"
Shermie's expression darkened. "Why don't we just make sure we don't have a next time?" He took a deep breath and started unbuttoning Ford's shirt for him. He hadn't realized that the only confinement he'd been in was that his arms hadn't been in their sleeves. It was embarrassing how panicked he could feel at a trap that a five year old could overcome.
"I don't want there to be." Ford said desperately. "I-I really don't, but I don't have a choice."
Shermie looked pained. "Kid, what's going on with you? I know you wanted to figure it out yourself, but things are getting out of hand, and this is way bigger than you right now." It was odd how reassured Ford felt to hear his brother address him as though he was a child. He was right, this was far bigger than him. Ford had tried to keep his brothers from getting involved, but he'd opened the doors for them, and Bill had kicked it wide open. It would be a mistake to try to force them away at this point.
"I-it's a long story." Ford said. "You're not going to believe me."
Shermie raised an eyebrow at him. "You said the same thing when you told me about the work you were doing in Gravity Falls. I believed you when you talked about gnomes, and unicorns, and ghosts." Shermie paled slightly and his eyes widened. "You don't remember what you did, and you've talked like you're being harassed by someone. Like you're being haunted. A-are you possessed?!"
Ford had grown up being told he was a genius. He was used to being the smartest person in the room, and it could make it so easy to forget that he wasn't the only person who had a brain. He always forgot just how smart Shermie was.
"Not by a ghost." Ford said slowly. "I wish Bill was just a ghost. I've researched ghosts, and I could exorcise him. No, he's something far worse."
There was fury in Shermie's eyes. "You mentioned a guy named Bill months ago. You said he was your new assistant for your big project. You said he was your friend."
"I thought he was." Ford said. He knew he was a fool. He didn't need Shermie to tell him how badly he messed him. "Bill lied to me. He manipulated me, and made me feel like he was the only being who could ever understand me. I-I agreed to let him possess me when I fall asleep. I thought it would make me more productive, so our work could continue even when I was asleep. But it was just another one of his tricks, and he's been taking advantage of our deal to torture me for weeks."
Shermie somehow paled even more. "When you say torture, how bad are we talking here?"
Ford bit his tongue. He didn't want to scare Shermie by telling him about the times he woke up with needles embedded in his fingertips, or the time that every one of his toes had been dislocated, and three of them still didn't feel quite right. How was he supposed to tell Shermie that he no longer kept knives, forks, scissors, or anything else that could be considered sharp, because more than once Bill had cut through his veins in an attempt to see how long it would take for the human body to bleed out.
"Uh, let's just say that this isn't the first time I've woken up with a concussion." Ford said. There was disbelief in Shermie's eyes, but also a fair amount of guilt.
"I didn't mean to hurt you." Shermie said. "I saw you standing over Stan, and I acted instinctively."
"No, no, I'm glad you did." Ford said honestly. "Better I have a headache than for Stan to be-"
Shermie gave him an exhausted look as he pulled him into his arms, not at all caring about the sick he was probably getting all over himself. "He's okay. And I want you to be okay too. Is there anything, anything at all that I can do to help you with this…this…what exactly is Bill anyway?"
"A demon." Ford said quietly. Shermie groaned. "I know, I know. I'm in way over my head."
"How are you supposed to get rid of a demon?" Shermie asked.
"I'm still trying to figure that out." Ford said. "It's just a little hard to do research when all of my energy goes into making sure that Bill doesn't activate the portal. It would mean the end of civilization as we know it."
"You've gotta have at least an idea or two." Shermie said.
"Well, yes." Ford said reluctantly. "But they're not exactly feasible at the moment." He had no way of getting a metal plate in his head to physically keep out the demon, and he'd tried, and failed, many times to get the unicorn hair needed for a protective barrier. Eventually he had to cut his losses, because there were bigger things to worry about.
"The portal is my main concern." Ford said.
"Why don't you just tear it apart?" Shermie asked. "Dismantle it completely."
The thought had crossed his mind, but there was a glaring issue. "I'm worried that Bill will just find a new puppet to control, and he'll just make the portal all over again. That's why I wanted Stan to take my journal and hide it. If people don't have access to my journals, then they won't have the blueprints to the portal, and it'll be that much harder for them to repeat the mistakes I made."
Shermie stared at him blankly. "You want the journals gone?" His brow furrowed with frustration. "Then why'd you attack Stan when he threatened to destroy it? Wouldn't that solve that little problem?"
Ford's face went red, both with frustration at the thought of his hard work being burned right before his eyes, and from shame that he had let his pride motivate him to hurt his brother. Honestly, it probably would be better if the journals were destroyed completely, and if Ford did the same thing to the cave where he had first found the incantation to summon Bill. He knew it wouldn't keep the demon away forever, but it would give him one less foothold.
"I've spent years writing my research in those journals." Ford admitted. "I-I didn't want to lose my work." He didn't look at Shermie. He didn't need to know that his brother was rolling his eyes, or giving him a disapproving glare. "I know, I know, it's stupid, and vain, and I wish I could go back and fix it."
Shermie took several calming breaths before he patted Ford's back. "It's not stupid. You consider your research to be your life. You don't want to lose it. But why can't you just rip out those pages and burn them?"
Ford blinked, feeling like an idiot. It was far more complicated than just doing that, but at Shermie's words Ford realized how many possibilities he had before him. The simplest solution was he could just rewrite his journals, this time omitting the information that he now knew was dangerous or false. It would take time, but it was menial work, and much better than letting his pride be the reason the world fell.
He was through with being a modern Icarus.
"I-I'll do something like that." Ford said. He may have to retrieve his other two journals. The second and third journals were the truly dangerous ones. He'd hidden them, but if somebody happened upon the journals, it could spell disaster.
Ford groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "I should have gotten your help ages ago." A fresh pair of eyes was working wonders already. And maybe Shermie would have been able to convince Ford to step off the ledge before he'd let himself go too far.
"Well, I'm here now." Shermie said. "Me and Stan aren't going anywhere."
Ford jolted. "I-I can't ask Stan to stay." He'd already hurt his twin so much. Stan should want nothing to do with him. Not after Ford had nearly drowned him.
Shermie gave him a stern look. "I'm not letting either of you knuckleheads out of my sight until I'm sure that you're both okay, so at least for my sake, you're stuck with each other." Ford was still apprehensive at the thought of Stan being anywhere near him when Bill could strike the second he let his guard down, but what was he supposed to do? Kick Stan out of his home?
Never again.
"As long as Stan's fine with it, I'm fine with it." Ford said. Shermie nodded.
"Good." He stood up and pulled Ford to his feet. He tossed him a relatively clean shirt. "So, let's go find Stan and come up with a game plan. We need to find a way to get that demon off your back, and we need to think of how you can sleep without us worrying about being assaulted."
"If you're going to be here to watch me, you could tie me up when I go to sleep." Ford said. "If you watch me carefully, and maybe use some drugs when Bill takes over to confuse him, he won't be able to do anything. At least, momentarily."
Shermie gave him a concerned look. "Do I want to know how you know that?"
Ford shrugged. "One of Bill's little games brought me into town where he got me hit by a car." Shermie's concerned look became one of panic. Ford held up his hands. "It wasn't bad at all, I swear. But the driver was understandably guilty, and they brought me to the hospital. When Bill wouldn't stop trying to attack the nurses, or myself, they restrained me to the bed and gave me even more painkillers." The people at the hospital had thought that he'd lost his mind. If Bill had stayed in control for much longer, Ford didn't doubt that he probably would have been institutionalized.
"Don't worry." Ford said, though Shermie's thunderous face made it clear that he wasn't going to stop being concerned anytime soon. "It only happened the one time. Bill didn't much like the hospital, so he made sure that I didn't end up back there."
Shermie scoffed as they left the bedroom. "I'm telling you, the hospital is the very first place you and Stan are going when we get to Piedmont."
Ford would have stopped in his tracks, but Shermie kept a strong hold on his shoulders and nudged him on. "Piedmont?"
Shermie smirked. "Well, I've gotta go home eventually, and I told you that I wasn't going to let you guys out of my sight, so both of you are coming with me."
"But…the portal!" Ford exclaimed. "And Bill-"
"We'll dismantle the portal, take care of the plans, and find a temporary solution to keep Bill out of your head." Shermie said. "When we have the room to breathe, we'll go home, make sure you two are taken care of, and then I'll help you research and find a way to stop Bill for good. No matter how long it takes. Sound fair?"
Ford felt like he should reject the offer. If he left Gravity Falls, who knows what Bill could get up to? He might have another host out there waiting for him, or he could lose his only access to the mortal realm at the moment, and it could take him eons to find a new pawn. During that time, Ford would hopefully be able to find a solution.
This was his mess, and he felt like he was the only one who should have the burden of trying to clean it up. But he was so tired. He missed his family, and he was at the end of his rope. Maybe…maybe accepting some help and taking a step back would do him some good.
"Okay." Ford said quietly. Shermie beamed at him. "But I'm not leaving until we take care of the portals and find a way to keep Bill out. I won't endanger your family like that."
"Don't worry so much." Shermie said. "Bill may be an all powerful demon, but we're the Pines boys. Nobody in existence has us beat on sheer stubbornness."
Ford chuckled. That was hard to argue with. "Speaking of stubbornness, where is Stan anyway?"
"Probably stress eating." Shermie said. "You know him." Though after so many years, Ford wasn't sure if he actually did. The thought hurt. Maybe they could still fix things.
They went downstairs and towards the kitchen. When they passed the front door Ford noticed some small changes. He wouldn't have noticed anything at all if he didn't have so much experience with Bill messing with his head and changing things. Now he knew how to notice the subtlest of differences, so he was able to notice that Shermie's large coat was gone, and Stan's boots weren't drying by the front door where Shermie had set them before.
Noticing these things, Ford paused and took a closer look, and he immediately saw the small note taped to the door that definitely hadn't been there before. He felt like Shermie would have mentioned something if he'd come down here while Bill was in control. Still, something wasn't right here.
Ford frowned and went closer to the note, pulling it off the door to get a better look. He read it and felt a rush of concern.
Hey, guys, I just needed to stretch my legs and get some air. I'll be back by noon, promise. Please, don't come after me. I'll be fine. The snow's not as bad as yesterday, and I bundled up. By the way, Shermie, I borrowed your coat, and I don't steal from family, so you know I'll be back, so don't panic.
"That knucklehead." Ford seethed. He handed the note to Shermie, who furrowed his brow when he read it. "We've gotta go after him. These woods are dangerous, and he'd hurt."
"Stan can take care of himself." Shermie said. "Trust me, I don't like the thought of him being on his own any more than you do, but you specifically asked us to let him go, and you know how he feels about the word please. He wouldn't say it if he didn't mean it."
"How do we know he didn't just leave?" Ford asked. If Stan vanished from his life again, Ford would never forgive himself.
Shermie reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. "Well, we've got a few hours to spare until we can expect Stan back. Why don't we go into town and do some shopping so he can have a hot meal waiting for him? Then we can grab some things so you can sleep without Bill being a threat, and while we're out we can make sure that Stan's car is still where he left it. If he left for good, he wouldn't go without his car."
It was a good point, and Ford felt better about it. If they found Stan's car missing, they would know he had left, and hopefully they could even follow the car's tracks to find right where he was.
And if Stan really was going to come back, having some additional supplies could be just what they needed. And if they swung by the elementary school then Ford could take this opportunity to reclaim the journal he'd buried there.
It wouldn't be a massive step forward, but after weeks and months of doing nothing but taking dozens of steps back, even a little inch in the right direction felt like a big win, and that was just what Ford needed right now.
He was still worried about Stan, and he thought it was a mistake to have either of his brothers here, but he was still glad for it. He'd been alone for far too long.