When Shermie was younger he had thought that he and his brothers would become more distant as they grew older. Not in a bad way, but in a natural 'we all have our own lives' way. He was sure they would still have a good and civil relationship though. They would see each other for holidays, call each other every two or three weeks, and visit each other in the summer or something.
But life didn't go the way that one thought. Shermie hadn't heard a word from his youngest brother in ten years, and he called Ford every single week, without fail. He'd failed Stanley because he hadn't made himself available to listen when he needed help. He refused to let the same thing happen with Ford. So Shermie went out of his way to reach out to Ford, even when it was clear that his brother didn't want to talk to him.
Ford had always had an independent spirit, and that stubbornness and pride had gotten stronger when Stan was no longer there to accidentally rein him in. But as independent as Ford was, he was still just one person, and people could only get so far without a support system there.
Stan had been the best at encouraging Ford to push himself without letting him take things too far, but because of the nature of their relationship, his efforts had just exacerbated the problem. Ford thought that Stan's encouragement was empty platitudes. As for the few times when Stan, in his own special way, had asked him to think twice before acting, Ford would get defensive, thinking his intelligence was being called into question, and he would buckle down.
Stan knew what Ford needed, but he hadn't been able to figure out how to say it in a way that would be accepted. Not that Shermie blamed either of his brothers for what happened. They were both knuckleheads, but neither of them deserved this.
Shermie tried to find a balance. He wasn't the best at it, but after ten years of this nonsense, he liked to think that he'd gotten pretty good at it. He didn't call Ford every day, as much as he wanted to. He made sure to call at a scheduled time so that Ford could set an alarm and be ready for him. He wasn't always happy about being called away from his studies, and sometimes Ford only had the patience to talk for a minute or two, just to say that he was fine, and busy, and they would talk more next time.
It wasn't a lot, but it could be a lot worse. The best part about their conversations was that Ford at least understood that, should he need anything, he could talk to Shermie about it, with no judgement.
Ford didn't often ask for help, but there had been a handful of times. He'd gone to visit Ford to congratulate and celebrate with him when he'd gotten his first PHD and wanted recognition without dealing with Ma's smothering or Pa's higher expectations. When Ford got sick the week before finals, Shermie spent a few days with him to make sure he got some rest, and to help him study as much as he could.
When Ford's school closed for the winter holidays and they didn't allow any students to stay on campus for two weeks in December, he'd stayed with Shermie in California. And when Ford first moved to Gravity Falls and he needed to wait for his cabin to be built, he temporarily lived with Shermie, and then borrowed his car to drive back to Gravity Falls every weekend to familiarize himself with the area and oversee the progress of his home.
Ford had settled himself in Gravity Falls years ago, and he hadn't needed much help since then. Shermie just felt better knowing that his brother lived so close, and that Ford knew that if he needed anything, he shouldn't hesitate to call.
Shermie had both been hoping for and dreading such a call. On one hand, he didn't want to find out that his brother was in trouble. On the other hand, he had the bad feeling that something was incredibly wrong, and had been for awhile. If Ford was struggling, he'd rather his brother not go through it alone.
It was the middle of the night. Shermie was woken up by the sound of the phone ringing. He wanted to roll over and go back to sleep, but he couldn't forget his concern about his brother. It wouldn't be the first time that Ford called in the middle of the night. He sat up and went to answer the phone.
"Hello?" He looked at Olivia, fast asleep next to him. "That you, Ford?"
He heard harsh breathing on the other end, and a choked sound that seemed like it couldn't decide whether it wanted to be a broken laugh or a sob. Shermie was reminded far too much of the last time he'd talked to Stan. Suddenly feeling wide awake and anxious, Shermie clutched the phone tighter in his hand.
"Ford, are you okay?" Shermie forced himself to stay calm, even though he felt like breaking down himself. "What's wrong?"
"I-I'm fine." That was definitely Ford's voice. "I just…can you just talk? Distract me or something? P-please?"
He sounded like he was on the verge of a panic attack. Ford had always been tense and anxious as a child, but he had been pretty good at working through his nervous energy. That had changed these past few weeks. Every time they talked, Ford sounded like he was breaking at the seams, barely holding himself together. He wouldn't tell Shermie just what was wrong, just that he'd messed up and couldn't begin to make things right.
"Uh, yeah, sure." Shermie said. He thought that what Ford needed was help with his problems, not a distraction from this clearly ongoing issue. But he was scared of pushing his brother when he wasn't ready to hear it. So instead Shermie did as he was asked. He talked to Ford about how his work was going, and the nonsense that Alex got into at school.
Ford chuckled almost manically when Shermie got to a part of the story that was only relatively funny. He interrupted and asked clarifying questions. Shermie was reminded of when they were younger, when Stan and Ford watched a movie that was too scary for them, and they wouldn't stop pestering him because they were too scared to try to go to sleep.
Shermie started paying attention to Ford's tonal inflections. His brother always sounded tired, which was why he hadn't noticed it before, but the exhaustion in his voice was worse than before.
"Stanford, when was the last time you got any sleep?" Shermie asked. Ford let out another chuckling sob. Shermie frowned. "Ford."
"I don't know." His younger brother made a broken sound. "I…I lost track."
Shermie sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. "Ford-"
"I can't!" Ford said desperately. "I can't sleep. You don't…you don't understand. He'll…I can't let him…he's always watching me!"
Ford had never heard somebody sound so scared and desperate, on the verge of being delusional. He sounded so much like the people who used to call Ma's hotline, the people who had missing or dead loved ones, and they didn't know where else to turn.
"Hey, Hey, Ford, it's okay." Shermie said gently. "Just breathe for me, yeah? Take a deep breath in, and a deep breath out" Shermie spent the next several minutes talking Ford through breathing exercises that Alex's teacher had taught them. Anxiety ran in their family. Shermie could recognize that now, and he was doing what he could to encourage his family to deal with it in healthy ways.
He wasn't going to be like his parents. No lying to himself about how serious the problem was, like Ma would always do. And definitely no telling his kid to suck it up and handle his issues like a man, the way that Pa used to. Shermie was going to encourage his son to have a healthy relationship with his feelings, and if Ford was receptive to something new, maybe he could help his brother too.
Finally, Ford was breathing easily. He didn't sound like he was doing good, but he didn't sound like he was about to pass out.
"Are you okay?" Shermie asked. Ford made an affirming sound. "Okay, now I know I've asked this before, and I know you've said you're fine, but I'm going to ask again. Do you want me to come to Gravity Falls for a bit?"
Ford was quiet for a long time, and Shermie felt a surge of hope and dread. These past few weeks, when he'd asked that question, Ford had shut him down immediately. He was at least considering it now. Just how bad had the situation gotten?
"I-I can't ask that of you." Ford said, though he sounded like he desperately wanted to. "This is my mess. I can't burden you with it."
Shermie had tried to tell him multiple times that family wasn't a burden. When that didn't work, Shermie had said that it was a burden he was more than happy to bear. Ford still didn't believe him, so Shermie, out of absolute desperation, had opened himself up to Ford. He told him that even if he was a burden, it was nowhere near as horrifying of a burden as the overwhelming guilt and fear he would feel if something happened to Ford when there was something he could have done to stop it.
Shermie didn't mention the weight on his shoulders that he held for Stan. Mentioning their little brother was the fastest way to get Ford to shut down.
"Bro, if I don't check up on you, I won't be able to relax. I won't stop worrying about you. Not until I know you're okay." Shermie said. Ford sighed,, and it sounded like one of relief as opposed to resignation.
"O-okay." Ford said. Shermie felt like he could breath easily for the first time since he woke up. He got out of bed and started getting dressed.
"I can be there tomorrow afternoon." Shermie said. He flipped on the lamp and started packing a bag. "Will you be okay until then?" Ford made a sound that was hard to interpret. "Can you at least try to get some sleep until I get there?"
Ford let out a sob. "I-I can't." Shermie thought his brother would feel a lot better after a nap, but he didn't want to make him freak out again.
"Okay, okay, that's fine." Shermie assured him. "What about food? Can you get food?"
"I-I don't know." Ford said. "I don't know if I have anything, and I can't leave."
"Then I'll pick something up for you on my way up." Shermie said. "Just hang tight until I get there."
"Okay." Ford said shakily. "Th-thanks."
"Don't worry about it." Shermie said. "Trust me, it's my pleasure." Being woken up in the middle of the night was much better than finding out that something terrible had happened to his brother. "I'll see you soon." He hung up and ran his hands over his face.
Olivia groaned and rolled over. "Shermie, honey? What's wrong?"
"That was Ford." Shermie leaned over and kissed her forehead. "He needs help. I'm going to Gravity Falls for a few days, just to make sure he's okay.
Olivia sat up. "Do you want me to come?"
Shermie shook his head. She had a harder time getting time off of work than he did. Besides, if Ford was really in danger, he didn't know if he wanted his wife and kid involved. Shermie would check on his brother and see if he could convince him to come back to California with him.
."Go back to sleep." Shermie said. "I'll be fine, and I'll make sure Ford's okay too." He finished packing a bag. "Will you explain things to Alex?" He didn't want to wake his boy, but he didn't want to wait several hours until morning either.
"I'll take care of it." Olivia said. "Take care of you brother." She knew how protective he was of Ford, and she completely understood it. She knew how much family meant to Shermie, and she knew that his family was more than just her and Alex.
Shermie put his shoes on, turned off the lamp, and took his bag downstairs. It was time to head out. He didn't like eating food first thing in the morning, so he'd grab something in a few hours when he got hungry.
He started the now familiar drive to Oregon. Maybe it was dangerous, but he went through the motions as he drove. He was tired, and beyond worried about his brother. He had no idea what kind of danger Ford was in. All he knew was that he needed help.
Shermie drove, only stopping for gas, restroom breaks, and food. The longest break he took was when he stopped to get some pizza for Ford. He had wanted to find somewhere that had New York style. It had been a comfort food for all of them when they'd been younger. Shermie didn't know if Ford would still like it, but it was quick, filling, and hopefully comforting food. He'd make sure to get Ford something more nourishing while he was there.
Shermie drove up to the cabin, struggling with the snow. It was storming up here, and he didn't think his car would be able to handle too much of it. When he was close to the cabin he saw a car pulled over to the side of the road, looking snowed in. The red car looked even less ready for snow than his. If Shermie wasn't in such a hurry, he would stop and see if there was something he could do. His concern for his brother was stronger than his concern for a stranger.
Swearing that he would double back and make sure the owner of this car was okay after he was sure that Ford was fine, he continued on to the cabin. The first thing he noticed was that someone was standing right in front of the front door.
Shermie frowned and parked the car. He got out and slowly approached. The person's back was to him, but he could tell that they were tense. It seemed like they were trying to work up the nerve to knock. Shermie's first paranoid thought was that this person was a threat. He then noticed the threadbare boots and filthy, ill-fitted jacket they were wearing. They had snow piled on their shoulders. They'd been out in the storm for a long time, and clearly needed help.
He remembered the car at the side of the road. Maybe this was the owner, and they had walked up here to ask to use a phone, or to just get out of the cold for a few minutes. Shermie's heart ached at even just the thought. Ford was his priority, but he couldn't ignore someone right in front of him who needed help. It wasn't quite as easy to ignore as just an abandoned car.
Shermie approached the figure, who didn't even turn his way. He didn't think they'd noticed him at all. It sounded like they were talking to themselves. Their hand was raised, but they weren't knocking. Shermie cleared his throat, but he got no response. He sighed and put a hand on their arm. The person jolted and turned so quickly that they almost slipped on the slippery steps. Shermie reacted instinctively and tried to steady the other person, but they both just ended up falling to the ground.
Shermie groaned. He landed on his ankle weirdly. It wasn't too bad, probably not even sprained, but it hurt, and the cold and wet of the snow on the ground was not a pleasant feeling. He opened his eyes to see if the stranger was okay, only to freeze when he saw that the stranger really wasn't a stranger at all.
"S-Stanley?" His voice cracked as he felt something inside of him break. At the same time, he felt like a hole in his heart that had been missing for ten years had been filled.
His baby brother just sat on the ground and stared blankly at him, like he didn't recognize him. It broke Shermie's heart. A very small part of him was worried that this wasn't actually Stan. That it was just a stranger with a very strong resemblance. This was his brother though. He knew it. He had to be.
Shermie got to his feet, pushing past the pain. He reached a hand out, freezing when he saw Stan flinch and scramble back, like he was afraid of being hurt. For a long moment they both just stared at each other. Shermie's chest tightened and he could hardly breath. After ten years of wondering just what had happened to his younger brother, here he was, and he looked like he was about to run off at the smallest indication.
"Please, Stan, I'm not going to hurt you." Shermie said. "It's just me."
Stan looked vulnerable and far younger than twenty eight. "S-Shermie?" That was all he needed. He fell back to the ground, uncaring about the snow, and wrapped his arms around his brother. Stan was tense for a long moment before he let out a shuddered sigh and leaned against him. Shermie held him close, refusing to ever let him go.
"Where have you been?" Shermie pulled away just so he could get a closer look at his brother. "Are you okay?"
"I've, uh, been around." Stan said. It was dismissive, and Shermie noticed that he didn't answer the question about how he was. "I guess Ford asked you to come."
"He called last night." Shermie said. "Did he finally get over himself and reach out?"
Stan scoffed. "Yeah, I guess he did." There was a dark look in his eyes. "He must be really desperate, huh?" Shermie hated the self-deprecation in his voice, but more than that he hated that his brother was probably right. Shermie and their ma had been trying to convince Ford to just talk to Stan for ten years. It would take a lot to get him to change his mind after all this time, and he certainly seemed desperate now.
Stan sighed, looking more drained than anything. Between the defeated look in his eyes and the sorry state of his clothes, Shermie was reminded of the homeless people he would see around whenever he went downtown. The people who had nothing, nobody, and nowhere to call home.
"I guess Ford's in trouble, isn't he?" Stan asked quietly. Shermie grimaced. He thought that both of his brothers were in trouble. He wanted to help Stan and make sure he was okay, but this was ten years of damage, including broken trust. Shermie had spent all this time getting Ford to open up to him. He wouldn't hesitate to do the same with Stan, but he didn't have the time for that right now.
"Yeah, I guess he is." Shermie said. He stood up again, and this time when he reached a hand out to Stan his brother accepted it. "Let's make sure he hasn't gotten in over his head." Shermie wrapped an arm around his brother's shoulder, both to support him, and to keep him from running off again.
He knocked on the door, prepared to play the role of mediator between his brothers. What he wasn't prepared for was for the door to open and find himself face to face with a crossbow.
"Who is it?! Have you come to steal my eyes?!"
…Maybe Ford was a little worse off than Shermie had first thought. It had been a long day, and Shermie didn't know if any of them could handle much more excitement. Knowing the Pines family luck, this was just the start.