When Ford woke up a few hours later, he was confused. Why did he feel so comfortable and well-rested? This wasn't usual. As he came out of sleep more, he felt Delilah pressed against him and one of her arms dangling across his chest. She was still dead asleep. He couldn't move without disturbing her, but it was fine for now. He wanted to enjoy this. He breathed slowly as he felt a wave of emotion rise up within him, attempting to clear his mind and pinpoint where it was coming from, but he struggled. It was like a pure reaction to being well-rested for the first time in ages combined with Delilah being near him, her breath on his back making his skin prickle even through his sweater. He had never had anything like this before, something so simple and peaceful. He wanted to sink back down into the peacefulness and never emerge from it again. But at the same time, he was looking forward to her waking up. Their conversations and ability to build on ideas together were always what intrigued him most about her. As much as he felt comforted and delighted by sleeping next to her, he was eager to plan their mission. He waited patiently for her to wake up.
Delilah stirred about ten minutes later, yawning loudly and stretching as much as possible in the small space. Ford rolled over as he felt her waking up, watching her rub the sleep out of her eyes. "Good morning again," he said quietly.
A smile crept over her face as she glanced over at him. "Good morning! Feels like I slept for ages! What time is it?"
"It's around two. We still have plenty of time before our mission later."
"Oh. Good." Delilah turned her head to face him. Her expression was content, and the bags under her eyes were less pronounced. "Thanks for letting me stay here. It was just a few hours, but I haven't slept so well in ages."
Ford hesitated a moment before responding. "You can sleep here whenever you want. There's no reason you have to stay in the basement."
She smiled widely, a tentatively hopeful look on her face. "Really?"
"If you want to put up with me, yes."
She snuggled close against him in a way that made his heart pound and heat rush through him, slipping her arms around him and one leg going behind his thighs, holding him there. His mouth suddenly went very dry, and he struggled to comprehend any of his actual thoughts right then. "Why wouldn't I want to put up with you?" She asked playfully, her good eye staring at him and the blind one staring through him.
Ford swallowed before speaking, almost too lost in sensation to form words. Her eyes, what was it about her eyes? "You must be a very strange person," he finally choked out, "If you truly want to… to sleep with me."
She laughed, which somehow caused him to blush harder. "You don't know the half of it. And I want to do so much more than sleep with you, you know. I want to hunt this ghost with you, and other paranormal things around here, and finish fixing Trinity. I want to discuss Star Trek and any other science fiction we come across. I want to help you get better at German while you help me with my facial recognition modules. Hell, maybe we can even write something together someday."
Ford couldn't have adored her more right then if she had confessed to actually being in love with him. Hearing her gush about the two of them facing off against the paranormal in the world and combining their writing abilities was almost better. He kissed her cheek. "I'm sure we could write some amazing stories together with our combined experience. But what else do you want?"
She looked confused. "What do you mean?"
He glanced away from her, realizing he had perhaps inquired too intensely for such a light-hearted conversation, but he held her close and kept speaking. "Later. In the future. You're much younger than me, after all. And you were married once. Do you possibly want that again?"
She was quiet for so long that Ford started to get worried. When she finally spoke, she sounded hesitant, as if afraid of how he'd react. "I really don't. I'm sorry. I still have so much guilt from how everything ended, and to be honest, I… I don't think I should have gotten married in the first place."
Ford could feel her breathing raggedly against him as she spoke. Alarmed, he tried to rub her back in a comforting manner, similar to how she tended to touch him, but he wasn't sure it was helping right then. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. I was just curious. There's no need to discuss this now."
She appeared to calm down, but she still seemed emotional from the question and the memories it brought up. "Right… thank you." She was quiet for a moment, then she suddenly let go of him and sat up. "I need a shower," she stated flatly, and before Ford could say anything, she had gotten up and left.
He fell back in his bed, cursing his incessant curiosity and inability to keep his questions to himself. He had just told her a few hours ago he didn't have to know everything, and yet he had asked too much. How could he be so stupid? To be fair, he knew he was far from stupid, but when it came to people, he definitely was. She would never put up with him for long if he couldn't get a hold of himself. Things were much easier when they worked together in the basement and barely spoke. He sighed to himself, rubbing his eyes as he felt a headache coming on. He considered getting up to go to the basement, but he decided to wait for Delilah to return first.
She was back about twenty minutes later, wearing a question mark t-shirt with wet brown hair clinging down her back. Her expression was blank as she removed her cloak from the back of his chair and put it on. "Shall we go downstairs and plan?" She asked, echoing his earlier thoughts.
Ford hesitated for a second, but pushed his lingering thoughts away. The mission this evening was more important. "Yes. Let's do it. "
They went downstairs, the pair of them both instinctively rushing past Stan in the living room with a quick greeting as if not to linger long enough for him to start asking why they both just came down from Ford's room at the same time. Stan barely acknowledged them right then, engrossed in some magazine, but he did notice they had been gone in Ford's room for hours and wasn't surprised. Their obvious infatuation with each other was becoming old news to him already. He glared in Ford's direction, a smirk spreading across his face just as the elevator doors began to close, which Ford returned with nothing but stone-faced determination. Delilah saw the exchange pass between them and started cracking up just as the door closed completely and they were shuttled beneath the ground.
In the basement, Ford unlocked his weapons cabinet full of everything he'd picked up on his travels and a few more practical things he'd bought after turning. He removed a small, unusually-colored handgun-sized weapon and handed it to Delilah with the muzzle pointed down. "This is a plasma gun," he explained. "If the ghosts won't show themselves, try shooting plasma at it to mark it. Look for any indication of spectral activity, moving objects or unusual sounds and radio frequencies, and aim there. You don't have to be a perfect shot. But let's use this as a last resort."
Delilah grinned, her one eye sparkling from the glow of the light above the weapons cabinet. "I'm a better shot than you might imagine!"
Ford's eyebrows raised in surprise at first, but then he remembered Polyphema driving them home via Delilah's hands and eyes the other night. As if to remind him, the hourglasses on her gloves lit up with pale blue light once again. "Also," she added, an idea crossing her mind. "I know an invisibility spell. I'll cast it on myself before we arrive. Polyphema and I will stay undercover unless I have to start shooting."
Ford smiled broadly, appreciating her strategic thinking. "Great idea. Let's come up with a signal to communicate."
After a brief discussion, they settled on a raised "live long and prosper" sign as a visual cue or yelling, "Donnerwetter!" as an audio cue. Either of these would signal Delilah to try shooting anywhere possible to mark the ghosts with plasma. Having decided on signals, Ford collected his own supplies and explained the general plan to her. They were going to assume it was a category ten since it was connected to many disappearances. They could face anything. They'd approach at dusk and he'd begin the exorcism with Delilah as backup if needed. If they needed to abandon the mission and escape, Delilah had permission to use any protection spells possible to get them out safely.
With a rough plan in mind, their conversation became more light-hearted. Ford decided to show her some of the other items he kept down there, like his extensive moth collection and other preserved specimens. She seemed to find them fascinating and enjoyed listening to him ramble about them, which was a stark contrast to how people usually reacted once he brought out the moth collection.
As he was telling her about a toxic slime moth from dimension 5991, Stan suddenly barged into the basement. "Hate to interrupt you two," He yelled with urgency, "But I can't find Dipper and Mabel anywhere, any idea where they went?"
Ford and Delilah glanced at each other as the same thing occurred to them: the kids had snuck away to go to the haunted house. Stan caught the look immediately. "Yeah, I had a feeling you two had something to do with it!"
"I explicitly told them not to go at all!" Ford protested, already holstering a weapon to his side and going to unlock the weapons cabinet again. Delilah stood by awkwardly. "But we'll get them back. And I'll make sure Dipper knows to listen to me next time." He already felt a headache coming on as he grabbed Delilah's plasma gun and a couple of other items that might be useful - salt, an Electromagnetic Field reader, and a taser. Just in case.
Stan stood there watching him scramble for supplies. "I'll drive us in the Stanleymobile. I don't know how Dipper and Mabel got away so quickly, but they were definitely not on foot." Ford began to protest, but Stan wouldn't hear it. "Can it, Poindexter, I'm getting my niece and nephew back! You think I'm worried about a ghost? Toss me my brass knuckles out of there!"
Ford relented, knowing Stan wouldn't be stopped no matter what he said, but he rolled his eyes at Stan's request for the brass knuckles. "You can't punch the ghosts, Stan."
"Just watch me!"
"Actually, he might be able to!" Delilah added. "If you'll let me put a protective ward on them."
"Hell yeah!" Stan shouted before Ford could respond. "I'll take whatever spells or curses you've got!"
"Do them upstairs please," Ford requested, tossing stan the brass knuckles which he caught adeptly. "I don't know how magic will react with some things down here."
Ford collected the last items they would need from the basement while Delilah located the journals and her own supplies. She waited outside for Ford and Stan. Once they appeared, she quickly created a protective ward on the brass knuckles by flicking them with unholy water (nothing more than a couple of drops, Ford noted) and chanting some words none of them recognized from anywhere. When she finished, Stan put them on and punched the air. Where his punch landed, a plane of shimmering blue light erupted from the knuckles and spread out to several feet in height and width, easily enough to shield Stan's head and anyone standing near him. The bushes he punched towards bowed and shed some leaves from the force even though they didn't come into contact with the shield. When Stan unclenched his fist, the shield disappeared.
While Stan practiced with the shield a bit more, Delilah turned herself invisible. Invisibility spells use quite a bit of unholy water, but it was needed this time. She sprinkled a couple of drops on her head, her hands, and her cloak. She read the words from Polyphema's spellbook, since this wasn't one of the spells she had memorized. Before Ford's eyes, the woman disappeared into thin air with no sign of her left except for a slight waviness in his vision, as if the air moved with heat instead of an invisible person. When she stood perfectly still, she wasn't noticeable whatsoever.
They didn't delay much longer. Ford sat shotgun, and Delilah sat in the back, though the only sign of her being there was the seatbelt suspended in mid-air across her invisible body. Stan drove so fast and recklessly Ford was sure they'd get pulled over. He even started to wish he'd asked Delilah to have Polyphema drive them, but Stan got them there quickly enough and with no incident despite blowing several stop signs on the way.
The house looked even more decrepit than Ford had seen from the articles. It was far from other homes despite being fairly modest, two stories, and it was painted a particular shade of flesh-colored pink with peeling paint and boarded-up windows. The trim along the roof might have been white once, but it was more of a vague brown color now. The yard was overgrown with weeds and blackberries, which made it easy for the three of them to see the path Dipper and Mabel had taken. Ford observed as they approached the driveway and parked that the EMF reader was already detecting high levels of activity, the needle bouncing anxiously against the red side of the meter.
The three of them left the car parked at the foot of the driveway and began to trudge through the weeds, following the dent in them left by Dipper and Mabel, Ford in front with Stan and Delilah behind him. The path took them behind the house, where it was clear someone had the idea to break the window open to climb in. There was also a highly-convenient ladder leaning against the side of the house. Dread clawed in Ford's gut the closer they got to the house.
Ford was the first to peek in the window, using the first few steps of the ladder. The sight inside was beyond disgusting. He found himself looking into the kitchen, which was covered in a slimy, porous, pale white residue. It coated the sink, leaked down the walls, and hung from the ceiling like cobwebs in many places. Ectoplasm isn't a uniform substance either, especially not in such massive amounts. Ford could see various debris and chunks of… upsettingly pale and discolored pieces of what was probably flesh and bone floating in the places where it had built up the most. Looking further into the living room, Ford could now see the largest mass of ectoplasm coated the wall by the entry and held within it the shapes of several long-dead individuals, as well as forms of Dipper and Mabel. He couldn't tell if they were dead or alive. The smell hit him at the same time, the undeniable and sickening combination of ectoplasm and decaying bodies.
He nearly fell off the ladder from the sight and smell of it all, holding in the urge to gag by biting his hand as he turned to Stan and Delilah. "It's worse than I thought," he explained, speaking quickly and erratically, on the verge of panic. "There are tons of ghosts in that place, tons. It has to be everyone who ever died in there and many more. They're all trapped there by some force, and it won't let them leave, they're feeding off each other's energy. It's got them, Stan, it's gotten Dipper and Mabel…"
"Get a hold of yourself, buddy," Stan gripped him by the shoulders, trying to steady him. "Don't lose it yet."
"I'm going to take a look," Delilah announced quietly and invisibly. While Ford worked on calming himself, Delilah went over the ladder and looked inside, the only sign of her movement was the way the grass bent from her invisible steps. Ford heard her gasp slightly as she caught sight of what was inside, and then he saw the grass bend back towards them as she came to stand by Ford and Stan again. "Okay… that was disgusting, but I saw Mabel's grappling hook on the floor, I think I can sneak in there, grab it, and get the kids out."
Ford and Stan exchanged a look between them. Ford hadn't even noticed the grappling hook, he'd been so horrified by seeing the kids hanging limply cocooned in ectoplasm. He was shocked she would even go head-first into this situation, and his first reaction was an emotional one. "No! It's much too dangerous."
Stan disagreed. "It sounds like a good idea to me. She's already invisible. Maybe she can get them out quickly, and we can just leave."
He had to see a certain wisdom in it, even if it was a much bolder plan than he would have gone with. Going in guns blazing was clearly not an option anymore, but they also didn't have the option to be as defensive as possible. He still couldn't understand Delilah being willing to risk her life for his family, but he had to admire her tenacity. Reluctantly, he nodded in agreement with Stan. "Alright. If you really want to go in, we'll back you up. Remember our signal." He felt Delilah's invisible hand squeeze his. He tried to shove away the terrible fear of losing her as well as his niece and nephew on the same day. He couldn't let himself panic yet.
But also, he remembered with a strange sense of calm, Delilah had Polyphema. As much as he didn't trust Delilah's demon friend, he knew she must be invested in keeping her alive. Maybe it was best to let the person with a benevolent demon companion face the horrific knot of ghosts.
They stood off to the side as Delilah climbed through the window, then Ford climbed up just high enough to see and hear inside. He could vaguely see a shape of wavering air as Delilah crept carefully across the floor, aiming for spots where the ectoplasm was thin. He also spotted Mabel's grappling hook near the massive wad of bodies plastered to the wall. Ford saw footprints appear in the pools of ectoplasm as she approached. The grappling hook lifted itself into the air, then drew near the forms of Dipper and Mabel. When the hook shot out of it and buried itself into the wall, Dipper and Mabel's bodies broke out of the ectoplasm at the same time with a sickening, gelatinous sound, flinging towards Ford as Delilah swung unseen through the air.
Ford caught the twins, but the force of catching two teenagers knocked the wind completely out of him, and since Delilah was still invisible, he didn't see her slip off the windowsill into the now moving and bubbling pools which had come alive with the fury of multitudes of angry spirits now alerted to her presence. But he did hear her yell, "Donnerwetter! Don-" before she was cut off.
"Shit!" Ford yelled, hopping off the ladder and putting the twins down. Based on how warm they were underneath the disgusting goo, they must have still been alive. "That's the signal! We have to go after her!'
Stan cursed, but his gaze was steely and reserved. "Right, you stay behind my shield and work on exorcizing these things, I'll do the punching."
Within seconds, Ford had his journal open to the exorcism spell and the salt on hand while Stan was already climbing up the ladder. He followed Stan, trailing the salt behind him and already beginning the chant in a droning tone, knowing he'd have to do this as perfectly as possible if it was going to work on this many specters. Stan punched his arm through the window, letting the shield out before dropping to the floor with Ford following quickly behind him. The place was filled with moaning now, empty, despairing moans, and the ectoplasm ran along their feet and tried to climb up their ankles. They had to keep moving constantly to prevent it from getting a hold of them, but it seemed to hate the shield enchantment. Anytime Stan swung around with his fist outstretched, the ectoplasm shrank and withdrew. Ford stayed behind him and moved in his shadow while focusing on the chant, but he saw Delilah, now mostly visible due to being covered in goo, being dragged towards the massive wad of the stuff in the sitting room. Getting Stan's attention, he pointed out where she was, and the pair of them began to move methodically towards her, Stan's shield pushing away the ectoplasm like a snow plow. Ford saw Polyphema's book had fallen out of her cloak at some point, and he grabbed it up as he and Stan were close enough.
But the whole time, he could see the exorcism wasn't working. It wasn't strong enough to take on a massive nest of ghosts.
Delilah was struggling against the ectoplasm, but she could barely keep her mouth and nose free, it just kept coming and coming, trying to drown her, and it tasted so awful like death itself, she didn't dare think about what exactly its contents were. She saw Ford bend to grab Polyphema's spellbook and found a burst of energy to writhe out of the tide just enough to desperately yell, "Page thirty-one! Use page thirty-one!" She screamed just loud enough for Ford to hear before the ectoplasm dragged her under again.
Ford heard her as he picked up the book and immediately understood what she meant. She wanted him to use one of Polyphema's spells. He had only a flash of resistance in his mind before concluding he had no other choice; had she not rushed in head-first to save his niece and nephew? Of course he would try it, he had to! But didn't she need unholy water to do anything with this spellbook?
As soon as he had the thought, he saw the bottle of unholy water caught in a shallow pool of goo just a couple of feet away from Delilah. Ford put away his own journal and opened the spellbook to page thirty-one as she indicated. The white letters on black ink paper stood out even in the dim lighting. He had no idea what language it was, but it was legible and he could read it. Underneath the spell on the same page, there was a drawing of a human figure with either tentacles or beams of light coming out of it; he wasn't sure which. He hoped it was beams of light. He tapped Stan on the shoulder to get his attention. "Get as close to her as possible," he said, holding up the book to show Stan. "I'm trying something else." Stan nodded in understanding.
The pair of them made their way over to Delilah as quickly as they could without letting the ectoplasm get too close. Stan had to swing around in different directions a few times as the ghostly residue constantly tried to flow back to them from all angles. But soon, Ford was able to reach the unholy water, which he snatched up. In just a few more steps, he was close enough to Delilah. She was now lying face-down and disturbingly still. As Stan punched away more of the disgusting residue, Ford unscrewed the bottle with his teeth, splashed its entire contents on her, and began to read the spell.
As soon as he finished the eight lines of the spell, a bit slowly because it was new to him, several black, flailing tentacles burst out of her back from underneath her cloak, sending splatters of black liquid everywhere including onto both of them. Ford and Stan both jumped back in horror and disgust. The two larger tentacles went to the floor, lifting Delilah out of the ectoplasm enough for her to get air. As she spit out wads of the awful stuff, she managed to croak out, "Again!"
Ford repeated the spell once more, watching her carefully with a mix of awe and terror. Several more tentacles burst out of her sides and back, this time even bigger ones, and began to drag Delilah along the floor. Delilah's voice was stronger this time as she called for Ford to say the spell again, which he did without question, causing her to sprout yet more appendages. She requested it one last time, and he complied, bringing out a final round of tentacles, enough to entirely cover her back. There were probably at least twenty in all, but it was hard to tell with the constant, nauseating writhing. They lifted her out of the ectoplasm entirely, grasping and sucking along the floor. With the kind of movement that freaked out both Stan and Ford on deeply instinctual levels, Delilah slithered away out of the kitchen window at an upsettingly fast speed, leaving a trail of black ink-like substance behind her.
Stan was still punching with his shield to keep the ectoplasm at bay, but he was saying "Holy shit, holy fucking shit, that was so gross," over and over again. But without much further comment, the two of them defensively retreated as fast as they could and went back out the window themselves. Delilah was lying on the ground by Dipper and Mabel, who were now sitting up conscious and staring in wide-eyed shock at the woman covered in tentacles.
"What just happened?" Dipper demanded to know as they approached.
"What's wrong with Delilah?" Mabel yelled.
"Nevermind for now," Ford said. "You two are in huge trouble by the way."
"Yes you are!" Stan agreed. "Don't you EVER do something like that again!" He paused and looked at Ford. "I think I know how to take care of this house."
Ford nodded. "Be my guest!"
Stan went down to the car at the bottom of the driveway to get something while Ford examined Dipper, Mabel, and Delilah. Everyone was conscious and alive, just covered in ectoplasm (and tentacles in Delilah's case) and deeply disturbed. Delilah was too weak to sit up, but she laid on her back, propped up by her writhing appendages while Ford looked her over and checked her pulse. She was probably fine, as far as he could tell, just severely weakened. It didn't seem like the black stuff was blood either, so that was a relief.
Stan returned holding a can of gasoline and a pack of matches, making it clear what he intended to do. Ford didn't say anything to stop him, he figured there wasn't any other possible way to deal with the situation at this point. Stan went over to the window again, turned the can of gasoline upside down and emptied its contents into the house, then lit a match and threw it inside as he stepped off the ladder and ran back towards them. Flames billowed out the window and spread quickly inside the house. Wailing filled the air as the spirits were disturbed by the growing fire. Ford could have sworn he saw faces taking shape in the flames flickering out the window and taking hold of the dry roof. The group of them half-ran, half-hobbled (and Delilah slid) away from the house with Stan in the back with his shield out just in case. The entire house was in flames by the time they reached the Stanleymobile, the agonized expressions of the spirits appearing momentarily in the flames as they were, hopefully, released from this world.
They wasted no time piling into the car and driving off, the house burning behind them. Stan drove, less recklessly this time, with Dipper, Mabel, and Delilah in the back. No one spoke for the first several miles. They were all coated in remains of the dead, the inside of the car smelled unspeakably bad, a particular combination of decay and fish none of them would be able to completely erase from memory, and they were all tired and injured. Delilah's tentacles didn't leave a lot of room in the backseat, so unfortunately Dipper and Mabel were pressed into them much more than they would have liked to be, but there was no way to avoid it.
After a while, Dipper spoke up. "It smells so bad in here."
"I think it's an improvement!" Mabel added, trying to grab one of Delilah's tentacles which kept wriggling away from her grasp.
"You're telling me," Stan grumbled. "Good thing you two are cleaning the Stanleymobile as part of your punishment!"
Dipper and Mabel complained, but they had to admit it was reasonable for them to do it.
"Delilah, are you alright back there?" Ford asked, noticing she had been quiet for a while.
"Everything hurts," she complained weakly. Ford glanced back at her. She was slumped over with many of the tentacles wrapped around her. Her hair was plastered to her head with a crust of ectoplasm and the black ink-like substance. Ford felt bad but also incredibly grateful for her.
"We'll get you taken care of," He assured her. "I think we all need multiple ice packs and bedrest." He was also feeling various aches and pains now that he was coming down from the tense situation, especially in his back. He was really too old to catch two teenagers hurtling full-speed at him the way he had done earlier.
"I need something way stronger than an ice pack," Stan added.
"I need a lobotomy!" Dipper complained.
Delilah picked her head up a little. Ford noticed a haunted look on her face. "I'll just… I'll stay in the basement to recover. Till all of these things fall off."
"Nonsense," Ford protested immediately. "Heroes don't sleep in the basement. We'll find better accommodations for you." He still meant what he had said earlier about Delilah staying in his room, but he didn't want to discuss that in front of everyone right then.
"Don't even think about hiding down there," Mabel declared. "You're one of us now!"
"Whether you like it or not," Stan added with a chuckle.
Ford caught a hard-to-read expression on Delilah's face just before she wrapped several tentacles around her head, hiding her face from view. She had smiled, but she also looked like she might cry. "Thank you," she said hoarsely from behind the unsettling, wriggling blanket on her face. "But I think I'm going to be stuck like this for a while."
"It doesn't matter," Ford said gently, wondering if this was too much emotionally for her. "You can stay with us as long as you need, and you don't have to hide."
Delilah didn't respond.
"If you have to be covered in tentacles for a while, there's no better place than Gravity Falls," Dipper pointed out, trying to be reassuring. "Everyone around here has seen worse. They might stare, but they'll forget about it the next day."
"Thanks, kid," She responded quietly. "I just need to get used to this."
"And hey if you wanna come work at the Mystery Shack sometime I bet you would do numbers! Just come hang around and read a book, let me do the talking-" Ford elbowed Stan in the side before he could finish.
"Oh, uh, I'll consider it," Delilah muttered.
When they arrived at the shack, Dipper and Mabel took the bathroom first to clean up while Stan, Ford, and Delilah stood around close to the door to avoid dripping ectoplasm on everything. They didn't have the energy for more discussion other than complaining about the various aches and pains this adventure had given them. Ford quickly realized something about Delilah now enchanted him more than ever before, even more than last night on top of her van. He knew part of it was seeing her heroism in how she saved Dipper and Mabel, but there was definitely something more to it now. Something more base and vulgar than he ever wanted to admit out loud. He was staring at her way too long, but she seemed too tired to notice, and he was deeply fascinated by the tentacles that now adorned her like some kind of weird dress.
When the kids had finished, Delilah went to shower next, limping weakly towards the bathroom. When she was gone, Ford noticed Stan staring at him with a huge smile on his face. "What?" He asked with raised eyebrows.
Stan's smile turned into a smirk. "You haven't looked at a woman like that since our seventh grade math teacher."
Ford wasn't going to let Stan embarrass him this time. "That woman saved our niece and nephew. Of course I admire her."
"I do too, Poindexter, but I'm not the one making bedroom eyes at her while she looks like she came out of one of those H.P. Lovecraft comics we used to read." He laughed. "I'm surprised you didn't offer to help her shower."
If Stan didn't stop vexing him, Ford just might have to sneak some voice stealer's venom into his morning coffee. He had a feeling Stan wasn't going to let up until he fully admitted to… well, something, at least. Anything to satisfy Stan's curiosity and romantic nature. No doubt he loved a good show. "We talked a lot last night," Ford admitted. "And yes, I suppose you could say we're… involved… but I have to be careful with her. There's something you don't know."
"And what's that?"
"She has a demon companion."
Stan turned serious as Ford told him this. "What kind of demon are we talking about here?"
"She says it's a lesser demon who has protected her throughout her life. And it grants her powers, like those spells she used today."
Stan looked alarmed, then angry, shooting daggers into Ford. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? You, of all people!"
Ford shrugged. "You were the one who first insisted she stay with us. I thought you had too much sympathy for her to toss her out because of her extra passenger."
Stan knew Ford had a point. "You're not wrong there. But you still should have told me about this sooner. What about Bill Cipher?"
"I know it seems… foreboding, considering everything with Bill. But I've seen how Delilah and this demon interact. She says Polyphema can only possess her with consent, and it's usually to help her with something she normally wouldn't be able to do on her own, like driving. Polyphema has been helping her survive while homeless. As for not telling you, I guess I wanted to respect her privacy on the matter. She's rather sore about her past, especially with what happened at Animus Nova."
Stan's expression softened. "I can respect that. She doesn't seem too bad, for someone who's friends with a demon."
"I'm still cautious about all this. I know Polyphema is not all-power or all-knowing, but demons are always bad news." Ford paused and sighed. "If I hadn't seen first-hand how strong and… respectful their bond is, I would be a lot more worried than I am."
"Yeah… yeah." Stan was quiet for a moment, lost in thought. "Is this demon of hers the reason why you've been acting so weird about her?"
"It's not the only reason. She also doesn't want to rush into things. She's not really over the death of her wife, I think. And the loss of her previous family."
"Ahh." Stan frowned, realizing he'd perhaps been a little obnoxious. "Makes a lot of sense honestly."
The conversation ended there as the two of them got lost in thought for different reasons. Once the bathroom was free again, Stan told Ford to go ahead and made a crude remark about him needing a cold shower. Ford didn't say anything, but the thought of using voice stealer's venom on Stan occurred to him again.
After a rather cold shower, which technically got him clean after an excessive amount of scrubbing but didn't do anything to rid his memory of the repugnant smell, Ford went to his room to get clean clothes. As he stepped in and turned on the light, wearing only a towel around his waist, he was badly startled seeing Delilah sitting at the foot of his bed wrapped up in just her tentacles, so startled that he briefly dropped the towel. He spun around, quickly fixing the towel to cover himself, terribly embarrassed and stammering. "O-Oh I'm so sorry, I didn't expect you to be there!" Shit, he had just flashed her. This was getting worse and worse.
"Sorry, I'll leave," she said quietly as his back was turned. She gave no indication she was in any way upset by what she had seen.
"No, no, I'm sorry!" Ford stammered with his back turned, furiously red now, pulling the towel tight around him. "I- I just need some clothes and I'll go back to the bathroom to change!"
"No, I'll leave, I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
"You're not! Honestly. I was just s-surprised."
"Then why are you acting like you're scared of me?"
"I'm not scared of you!" Still blushing furiously, Ford turned his head enough to glance back at her. She was still watching him from his bed. He knew she must be seeing the various scars and tattoos on his back. He really hadn't wanted to show all of himself to her until much later, and especially not like this. "I didn't mean to f-flash you… you shouldn't have seen that."
"Heh, I'm not worried about it. Mine are bigger anyway." From the corner of his eye, he caught Delilah covering her mouth to hide a smirk. Some of her tentacles shuddered and wriggled as she held in laughter, a strangely cute and chilling sight.
Despite being teased, Ford relaxed a little. He turned around more, still holding the towel snug around his waist. "No doubt, yours are definitely bigger," he admitted, smiling sheepishly. "But in my defense, there was no hot water left for my shower."
She laughed loudly. "Hah! I can't believe you're using the shrinkage excuse!"
Ford wanted to argue but decided against it right then. "Anyway, if you don't mind, I would like to get dressed now."
"Just a minute. I have an offer for you, if you don't mind me saying."
Ford looked at her curiously, his pulse suddenly quickening in anticipation. The effect this question caused in him was simply outlandish. "What's the offer?"
"I'll let you examine me right here and now if you don't put clothes on. I won't be able to wear clothes for a while with these things in the way, so it's only fair isn't it?"
Ford felt like if he went any redder he'd pass out. He definitely wanted to examine her tentacles more closely and was deeply curious about them, but he had also told a lie earlier; he was scared of them. Terrified, actually. He was more scared of them than he was of being naked in front of her. But the fear only made him want to learn more about them, especially if she had to stay like this for a while. Should he really agree to this? What if she found his old, scarred body disgusting? What if he liked examining her too much?
Delilah noticed his hesitation and looked a bit despondent. "Ahh, I see. You're definitely scared of me. I'll go." She started to get up.
"No, wait," Ford objected, holding up the hand that wasn't holding the towel. "I'm not scared of you. I'll take you up on your offer." Since she didn't seem uncomfortable at all, he shut the door behind him, then let the towel slowly drop to the floor. It's for science, he told himself.
Delilah sat back on the bed, and Ford saw her good eye run up and down his body. He tried to quell his remaining self-consciousness by telling himself this was to make her comfortable, since she was also technically naked even if her tentacles covered up her modesty. Nonetheless, he couldn't help but grin awkwardly. "Is this really what you wanted to see?"
She met his grin with a much more confident smile. "Yes! You look perfect."
"Flattery will get you everywhere." He brushed off her compliment easily enough, but inside he was practically melting. I look perfect, me? She must be more blind than I thought. Or she hit her head back at the haunted house. He went over to the shelves above his desk to grab some tools and a magnifying glass. "But I have to say, you look much better than me. Without a doubt."
She scoffed. "Don't patronize me. I'm hideous right now."
Ford went over and sat on the bed beside her, setting various items on the nightstand nearby. "No! Not at all. In some dimensions, you'd be more beautiful than you were before."
"Oh, now you start calling me beautiful?" She chuckled, shaking her head incredulously. "You are one strange guy."
Ford looked at her carefully, seeing she was clearly much more insecure than he expected. This was very different from the woman who had kissed him last night. "You know," he began, hoping what he was about to say would come out as intended. "I've encountered many beings in the multiverse, many of them with unconventional features. You are easily among the most beautiful, intelligent, and strange, with or without tentacles."
Although she had been the most shameless one between the two of them so far, his words clearly flustered her. Several tentacles went to wrap themselves around her head, blocking her face from view. It struck Ford as funny that she could hang out here naked with him as if it meant nothing but get embarrassed over a few romantic and heartfelt words. "You're too much," she half-sighed, half-groaned from behind the dark and rippling blanket on her face.
Ford took the opportunity to point a health monitor at her which began to beep steadily. He was smiling almost uncontrollably, realizing he was starting to view the tentacles as more cute than creepy. "I'm just being honest."
The monitor beeped slowly as it detected her vital signs until he got a fixed reading. Slightly low temperature and blood pressure with a resting heart rate over one hundred beats per minute. He saw she was malnourished as well. Nothing particularly dangerous but still concerning. "Your vitals are a little off."
"I figured they would be," she said, letting the appendages drop off her face again. "Growing tentacles uses up a lot of blood and nutrients."
"We'll make sure you drink and eat well."
"Yes, fine. Just don't make me take anything now, my stomach can't handle it. I still taste death."
"Hmm." Ford frowned. "You should really get your blood sugar up. One second, I have something." He stood up and went back to his desk again, where he still had the rescued jellybeans from the other night. He offered her the bag, sitting down again.
She frowned at the jellybeans and didn't take them. "No thanks, I don't care for them."
He looked almost hurt at her rejection of one of his favorite snacks. "Why not? They're delightful."
"Nah. I hate the texture."
Ford laughed quietly at the absurdity of it all. He had already lost any sense of shame about being naked in front of her. Mostly it was how nonchalant she was, but he was also genuinely worried about her health, and it gave him something else to think about. "Please, I've seen you drink raw eggs before."
"Yeah, they're a texture I happen to like! But right now I can't eat anything, I'll puke, I know I will."
Ford relented. "Alright, but I want to see you eat and drink something before you go to sleep. If you don't, I will hook you up to an IV in the basement."
"Fine, yes, I get it! I won't waste away, I promise." She sounded annoyed, but not strongly so. Her tone switched to playfully flirty, and one of her tentacles reached towards Ford's thigh, which he instinctively twitched away. "Aren't you going to… examine me further?"
"Y-yes, of course I am," Ford stuttered slightly, still not quite comfortable with the wriggly things, but gradually working his way there. He reached out slowly towards the long, dark length of flesh sitting beside him on the bed and touched it carefully with the tips of his fingers. Looking at the tentacles more closely now, he saw they weren't truly black, but a very dark green color that only showed up with direct light reflected on it. And it wasn't slimy like he had anticipated. It felt more like touching a reptile's skin. "Do you feel it when I touch you?" He asked, softly rubbing the leathery hide.
"Yes, I do."
"Are they very sensitive?"
"Not too sensitive no-" Delilah's tentacle slapped his hand away as he tried tickling it. "Hey! Don't do that!" She snapped.
Ford laughed, holding up his hands defensively. "Sorry, sorry! I won't do it again." He reached out again and went back to gently touching and holding the tentacle. He turned it over and examined the spread of pale suckers underneath the firm hide of the appendage. "Fascinating," he muttered. "May I touch them?"
"How about this instead?" The tentacle wrapped itself around Ford's hand, going across his palm and down to his wrist. The sensation of the suckers slightly tickling his hand while also gripping it tightly enough to force his fingers together took his breath away, although he wasn't afraid anymore. Honestly, the way it squeezed his hand felt snug and comforting. He picked up the magnifying glass and began to look it over more closely, eyeing the networks of tissues and how they differed between the hide of the tentacle and the suckers underneath.
"Could you tell me more about your various spells?" Ford asked her as he eyed the appendage carefully. "I got the impression you weren't exactly forthright about your powers. Why?"
She let out a long sigh that Ford suspected was accompanied by an eye roll, but he wasn't looking at her right then. "Like I told you and the kids earlier, I'm very limited with what I can do. Polyphema doesn't really let me use destruction spells anymore."
Ford briefly glanced up at her briefly but went back to examining his subject. "She doesn't let you?"
"I've been… let's say reckless in the past. She took them away from me until I could 'earn them back.' She left me with protection wards and things that are just… gross and embarrassing. "
Ford found this new information interesting and amusing. "You were so reckless, your magic got reigned in by a demon?"
Delilah sighed again. "I guess I don't think everything through sometimes."
He set the magnifier aside and went back to observing her face. "And what about these other gross and embarrassing spells?"
She didn't respond right away, and Ford wondered if she was going to deflect the question. But she answered somewhat reluctantly. "I know one that makes the victim puke spiders."
Ford was darkly entertained. "How macabre!"
"Yeah. And another that makes farts visible for a while."
His smile widened into a mischievous grin, and he gave the tentacle still clutching his palm and firm but affectionate squeeze. "Could I convince you to use it on Stanley sometime?"
"What?" She snorted, holding back laughter. "I thought you didn't like demonic magic."
"You don't understand sibling rivalries."
"Hah! Maybe you're right about that, but I'm not taking the fall for any pranks. He's been nice to me."
He had to respect her answer. "As you wish." He glanced back down at the appendage snuggly holding his hand. "And what about this tentacle spell you had me do today? You mentioned something about them falling off eventually?"
"Oh, right. Usually, they fall off in about a month, but I've never had this many on me at once. And you used up all my unholy water, which made the spell stronger than I've ever done before. I've hardly ever used this in the past, it's not the most practical spell ever, and it just makes it harder to stay covert."
Ford nodded slowly. "I'm sorry I didn't think about the amount of water I was using."
"It's okay. You still did the spell. I didn't really think you would."
Ford didn't respond right away. He was thinking about what he wanted to say next, and he looked down at the tentacle squeezing his six-fingered hand as he thought, feeling the way it pulsed with blood flow like any human hand would. "I have to admit, I've grown to care for you. And I didn't want to lose you. I reacted emotionally to you going in first because the idea of losing one of my few and only friends seemed unbearable. You and Stan were thinking logically, and we all survived. I can't tell you how grateful I am to have you in my life now."
The tentacle squeezed his hand harder and slid further up his forearm. The sensation was unexpected, causing him to let out a small grunt of surprise. He looked at Delilah with some nervousness and saw she was smiling hopefully. "Does that mean you accept Polyphema?"
He didn't quite know how to answer and had to think for a moment. "I trust that you know how to control Polyphema. I trust you know best how to use the magic you've been granted. But I can't… accept Polyphema." Seeing her face fall, he reached out with his free hand and found hers lying on the bed between them. "You should read my journals more. They go into my personal experience with the demon Bill Cipher. I know you have a different relationship with Polyphema, but I feel it would be important for you to read directly what happened to me."
"I will," She responded quietly, looking a bit crestfallen. But she wasn't ready to let the subject go yet. "What was your relationship with this… Bill Cipher character?"
Ford decided she deserved to know after everything. "He was my muse and my partner in science."
She eyed him with a raised eyebrow. "Why do you call him your muse? Were you two dating or something?"
He let out a dry laugh at her question. "I'd hardly call what we were doing dating. He was my inspiration in all things scientifically and creatively. He… convinced me to build an interdimensional portal, which is what led to me being gone for thirty years. He could have destroyed this dimension if it weren't for Stanley."
She looked stunned. He could see she was processing what he just said. She spoke after about a minute had passed. "He must have had a lot of influence over you."
Ford nodded, a haunted look on his face. "He did. I would have done anything he asked of me because he… convinced me I was meant for something special. And I fell for it."
He felt the tentacle tighten over his arm and slide up towards his bicep. She spoke in a far-away tone. "I see. Anyone could have fallen for that, really. Especially loners like us who really just have our books and machines most of the time."
"Right. Books and machines only go so far." He gave her a warm but somehow sad smile, which she returned while meeting his gaze.
He was so engrossed in talking with her, he had almost forgotten he was naked until his body started reacting. Of course it would happen during a serious moment in their conversation. He let himself get too comfortable, he looked too closely at her body and how the way she arranged her tentacles only barely covered everything up, and she also had various scars and marks of her own, including a small tattoo of a snail above her belly button and a lighting bolt tattoo on her thigh (perhaps a holdover from her briefly-mentioned wrestling career?), but also some scars that were more worrying, like a long, dark line on her side that looked like it might have been a gash at one point, and something about taking in all these things at once, and the gentle, caressing sensation of the tentacle hugging his arm, possibly combined with the fact that he had completely neglected self-pleasure for at least a week due to various distractions, caused him to become incredibly erect.
Delilah noticed. "Ah… I see the cold water isn't an issue anymore."
It's just circulation! A desperate part of him wanted to protest. That's all! Just a normal part of a man's circulation! But he didn't give into that painfully awkward, defensive part of himself this time. It was just Delilah, the same person he had taken a nap with earlier the same day, he had nothing to worry about. "I meant it when I said you were beautiful," He said more hoarsley than he meant to. "It's hard for me not to notice."
She seemed more surprised than offended. "Even like this, huh?"
"Of course," He said a little too quickly. "A few tentacles won't scare me off." God, could she feel him trembling slightly? She must be able to.
She laughed quietly. "I'm guessing not much would scare you off by now."
"Not even Polyphema," he mumbled, fixated on her.
"Heh. Wow." She laughed gently, looking him over as if absorbing as much detail as she could. He felt like he could have burned up under the weight of her gaze alone. Though he could hardly stand to look at her, he noticed her expression turn into a smirk. "Have you ever been wrapped up in a bunch of tentacles at once?" She posed the question as casually as someone might ask, "Have you ever wanted to see the aurora borealis?"
Ford felt his stomach plunge as he heard the question, panicking almost as if she had read his mind. The desperate nerd he'd been holding back came out of him, replacing the tentatively romantic persona he'd picked up sometime during his interdimensional travels. It was a very thin persona, awkwardly pieced together from various flirtations and encounters he'd had, and it was easy to make it shatter. "NoneverwhatareyoutalkingaboutIdneverthinkaboutthat!" He gushed, the words running together. He tried to change the subject. "I should show you a cycloptopus sometime! You'd love them!"
Delilah looked bemused and clearly didn't believe him. "Come on, I've seen how you look at me. How you've been looking at me since these things exploded out of my back."
He stared at her like a deer in headlights, unable to think of anything to say, his brain short-circuiting from lack of blood flow. Her tentacle slid up to his shoulder now. The thought of nuzzling his face into it occurred to him for some reason, but luckily he didn't give in to the idea. "I know what it's like to have unusual desires," Delilah said calmly. "So what if you like tentacles? I'm glad you like an unusual part of me this much. Maybe it could be fun for us."
"I… I… " His mouth was so dry he could barely speak. "I like them because they're yours and because they're strange, of course. But I'm here to examine you, not to satisfy… anything… " He trailed off weakly, unable to defend himself whatsoever. She was right, of course. He did like the idea of being wrapped up in them.
Another tentacle went to his other shoulder now and behind his neck. He could feel the strength in its muscles pulling him closer to her. He could have resisted easily enough, but he didn't want to. Next thing he knew, he was pressed against her and entangled in the appendages. They went everywhere, around his arms and legs, across his back, over his buttocks, two small ones even wrapped around his wrists for some reason. The underside of each one caressed him and clung to him. The combined sensation of being wrapped up in them, each little sucker clinging to his flesh, and looking into the eyes and content expression of the woman they belonged to made him feel almost faint with desire. Even through the fog in his brain, he found himself wondering how much control she had over each individual tentacle; he'd have to ask her later. He found himself lost in her, kissing her and stroking her hair, his other hand cupping her now uncovered breast, and between kissing all he could do was moan quietly about how much he wanted and adored her, everything about her, and how he wanted this to last forever. Eventually one of her tentacles found its way between his thighs and wrapped around his penis, causing a burst of sensation in him, and he begged her to keep going between panting breaths. He honestly felt a little ridiculous that this was all it took to reduce himself to a pathetic, begging mess of a man, but it had been so long, far too long, and she was human; he had almost given up on the idea of being with another human. And the tentacle on his member squeezed him so deliciously, and the way the suckers ran over the tip and gripped him, he could hardly hold back. His orgasm crept on him much faster than he expected and intense enough that he had to stop kissing her to press his face into the pillow by her head to suppress the embarrassing sounds that wanted to come out of him, and there was a lot, he was sure she would be grossed out as his emission coated both of their thighs, but she gave no indication of it as the tentacle slid off of his organ and his whole body relaxed.
As he came down from everything, he looked into her eyes, his forehead resting on her's, and asked what he could do for her, but she smiled and shook her head dismissively. "I don't need anything."
"I don't believe that." He hugged her close, kissing her cheek and forehead. "Please. I'll do anything. Just tell me."
She kissed him back, also on the cheeks and forehead, but somewhat shyly. "I don't feel well enough right now. I'll ask you another time."
"If you insist." He was a little surprised she didn't want him to perhaps use his fingers at least, but he didn't question her further. He pressed his cheek against her forehead and rested his hand on her hip just before where the tentacles sprouted from her back. "I can't tell you how amazing that felt. I want to make you feel just as good. When you're ready."
"I know." His heart fluttered as she kissed his cheek again. Every small gesture of affection from her made him unspeakably happy. "But we'll get to it later. I'm tired."
"As you wish." He meant it when he said he wanted this to last forever. The tentacles wrapped around him somehow felt soothing and protective, and he loved the way they held him in place against her. She had placed one leg casually around his waist and had an arm wrapped around him as well, and he felt her playing with his hair in a way that made his scalp prickle.
He almost dozed off, but stopped himself when he realized neither of them had eaten anything. He gave her shoulder a light squeeze. "I have an offer for you now," he said quietly.
"Oh?"
"You can eat one of my meal supplement pills or I can get you something from downstairs. What would you like?"
Delilah complained about still feeling nauseous but eventually agreed to have a meal supplement pill and water. Ford reluctantly extracted himself from her embrace. Before going downstairs, they used the towel he had left on the floor to clean up, then he put on a bathrobe to get them food and water. It was pretty late by now, so thankfully he didn't encounter anyone still awake. He returned shortly with the meal supplements, some apples, water, and two Pitt sodas "just in case" she wanted to try one even though she had refused them in the past. She broke up the supplement into smaller pieces and took them with water one by one. Ford took one whole and drank one of the sodas. Not his usual choice in beverage, but they were nice now and then. Before they went to sleep, Delilah expressed she wanted to take Stanley up on his offer to have her on display for tours. Ford was admittedly saddened to hear this.
"You don't have to do it. Stan puts his foot in his mouth sometimes. We're not going to put an actual person on display."
"No, no, it's the easiest thing I can do to make money right now. I've been here for weeks, I can't keep freeloading."
"You've been listening to Stanley too much. You're fine."
"It's really not fine… I'm going to need to eat a lot more now. I should do something to make these things useful."
"We can find another job for you to do!"
"Come on… I don't want to clean toilets and stock shelves. Anything else I could do wouldn't be as lucrative. I'll wear a mask and a costume so no one really knows who I am."
Ford sighed quietly and had to admit the idea made sense as much as it disgusted him to his core. "Fine. If you really want. But know that you can quit anytime you feel uncomfortable."
"I know."
They fell asleep soon after this conversation, beyond exhausted. His last thoughts before he succumbed to sleep were about how incredibly lucky he was, and also how badly his initial plans to "take it slow" and court her were actually going. I have to take her out on an actual date sometime, he thought drowsily. But where would she actually feel comfortable? Where would we draw the least attention? Can I even convince her to go out in public now? He recalled her earlier assumption about how she'd stay in the basement until the tentacles fell off and how she described herself as hideous. His heart ached. How long would she be stuck like this? No, he didn't think she was hideous at all, he probably even liked the tentacles a little too much, but he didn't like the idea of her being viscerally disgusted with herself. She had been so confident before, but now she seemed saddened and almost empty, even when she was flirting with him. He hoped he could help her work through this somehow. She didn't deserve to feel this way. Could she really not wear clothes anymore? He'd have to ask Mabel and see if they could come up with something together…
Meanwhile, Delilah had fully dropped off to sleep and was talking to Polyphema.
My dear, I adore you more than any of my other human vessels, but this… you have made life so much harder for yourself. And for what? Two teenagers?
Excuse me?
You shouldn't have let him do that.
Do what?
The curse. He used all of my unholy water! Do you have any idea how powerful it is?
Of course I know… but it wasn't like I could tell him not to dump the whole thing on me. You know I was drowning in bits of corpses and ectoplasm, right? And you weren't coming to save me. He was.
Nonetheless, I hope you like those things. You're stuck with them for life now.
… what?
YES. This is why my curses only use drops of unholy water and nothing more! This is why I deactivated your destruction magic, to prevent this kind of thing from happening. But admittedly, I thought you'd be more likely to blow yourself up rather than turning yourself into the freshest calamari this side of the Pacific.
…
Oh, don't look at me so. I've warned you about this before. And Sixer is right, the tentacles look amazing on you! You really are more beautiful than you were before.
… This is… this is my life now?
Yes, dear. I'm sorry. Try to make the best of it and be more careful next time.
… Yes ma'am.
She woke up from the conversation crying a little, but choked back the sobs in her throat. She refused to wake up Ford over this. She'd tell him later after processing this on her own. She didn't want this to be real for now, and if she didn't talk about it, she could pretend Polyphema was wrong.
I'm not wrong, and you know it.
The demon's shrill but powerful voice echoed harshly in her head, causing her to wince.
Tell him, you idiot, he'll help you!
Not yet! Leave me alone.
Petulant girl. Do what you wish, keep making the same mistakes. You're lucky you're my favorite. But despite the insults, Polyphema exited her mind and left her to her own peace, which wasn't saying much because Delilah's mind was still a complete mess. She didn't fall asleep again for another hour at least, kept awake by the thought that she may be stuck with tentacles for the rest of her life.