Chapter Text
It’s been a month and five days since he and his brother arrived in Gravity Falls. After a fruitful year sailing the seas with the Stan ‘o’ War, he was more than ready to return to his roots.
To the uninitiated, Gravity Falls looked like any unremarkable small town. It was filled with odd yet friendly townsfolk. There was lots of construction- one would think that they were finally growing into something bigger, more modern and touristy.
There were ruins where landmarks were, soot marks lining building walls, missing floors on taller buildings. The worst of it had to be the numerous edgy, triangular graffiti the local teenagers left everywhere- apparently Bill worship was ‘in’. But Ford was convinced the younger folk just did it to spite him after he fenced and fortified the area where the dead God’s body rested
Where his Muse, or what was left of him, rested. His laughter, once fond and mocking, was nowhere to be heard.
It’s been a year and six days since Weirdmageddon ended.
A year and six days since he was able to sleep. Funny how the human mind shuts down after a catastrophe. Inherently, Ford knew it was safe to sleep now. Bill was gone, the rifts they sailed across the world for were sealed, and hell, he even has his twin brother back.
Sleep was still a rarity and he can never anticipate when it would happen for him. Sometimes he doesn’t even realize he’s falling asleep until something tickles his face and he’s got someone in an arm lock- only to realize Stanley was attempting to vandalize his face with a sharpie.
After decades of strife, he was long overdue for rest.
Ford cupped his mouth just as he let out a big yawn, eyes watering from yet another night of uninterrupted writing. It was inevitable really; the stack of empty coffee cups, illegible writing born from half-formed thoughts, and the irritation that followed after seeing the sun rise.
Still, as he stood at the porch of the Shack- his former home- he can’t help but heave a sigh of relief. Every morning, he spends a few minutes checking the perimeter. Though, he never finds anything out of place, just the usual gnomes and six-eyed deer.
He still got to watch the sun with himself and his family in one piece.
“Sixer! Ya out there? Don’t tell me you stayed up all night reading your nerd comics!” Stanley calls out from the living room.
“Yes!” Ford called back with a half-hearted eye roll. “I was not reading ‘nerd comics’, I was working on my research!”
As Ford opened the front door, ready to bicker with his brother, he cast one more wary glance at the thicket of trees past the shack.
Peace was relative, he knew that.
It was only a matter of time, until it was inevitably disturbed. But this time, he’d be ready.
“Sheesh, at least use a different set of words, genius. You’ve said that for the past three days.” Stan arched a brow at his twin. “Everythin’ good out there?”
Had he really been repeating himself word by word the past few days?
“Yes, of course. Nothing’s amiss.” Ford responded, nodding to himself.
He strode past Stan to sit on the couch. It's been a while since he calibrated his blaster gun. When was the last time he changed its energy core? Oh, he’ll have to run to the Enchanted Forest sometime this week to replace that. What if he took Stanley with him this time? He never did see that part of the forest.
“Hey, Poindexter.”
How much of Gravity Falls did Stanley actually see? Did he just stick to town? Did he explore after he… Ford wandered the multiverse for a few decades? Does he know there’s quite literally a UFO buried somewhere in Gravity Falls?
“Smartass. Genius.”
Would Stanley mind another adventure or two? Their seafaring was… Enlightening.. While they’ve never been closer before they also had their fair share of frustrations to work through. Would it really be best to-
“FORD.”
Ford blinked, head snapping towards Stanley.
“Jesus, Ford. Ya sure you’re good? You've been spacing out lately. Kinda creepy when you’re holding your weird space gun.”
“I’m fine, Stanley.” Ford huffed, clicking the barrel into place. “I just have a lot to think about.”
“Uh-huh. Sure ya do. Did ya save some room in that metal head of yours for today?”
“What do you mean?”
“Ya don’t remember what we have planned today, do you?”
“...Maybe?”
Stan let out a long sigh. “This is why I’m the better twin.”
Cue an eye-roll from Ford, but this time, he couldn’t help the grin on his face. “Of course, you are, Stanley. You’re definitely the better twin. Tell me, have you ever created a pocket-sized particle accelerator in your mid-twenties?”
“Ha-ha, very funny, who dragged your sorry ass out of the portal, huh?” Stanley shared his smile
“Touche,” Ford nodded. “Well, maybe you can regale me with your multitudes of achievements then, oh superior twin.”
To the untrained eye, Stanley’s smile didn’t falter. But Ford saw the way it slipped on his brother’s face, an infinitesimal pause before he retorted.
“Pah, ya can’t pull that card on me. I don’t remember Jack!” Stan said flippantly, turning to grab his coat from the couch.
“Ya can’t Lord what I can’t remember over my head! Heheh.”
It was as if someone seized Ford’s chest and dragged it down to his stomach, he frowned.
“Stanley-”
“S’fine.” His twin waved a hand at him. “Yer good, Ford. Stop apologizin’ for that.”
Ford held his tongue. There wasn’t much he could say without sounding like a broken record. They talked extensively about the past year, and the years before that.
So, why do things still feel… unresolved? Unfinished between them.
Maybe he did need some more sleep to mull it over.
“Anyhow, you totally forgot, didn’t ya?” Stan said, shrugging on his faded leather jacket. “I'm supposed to pick up the kids!”
“Dipper and Mabel!” A wide grin split across Ford's face. Goodness, how could he forget?
“The bus ain’t runnin’ cuz of that big hole the water tower made when it came to life so uhhh, gotta drive up there.” Stan grumbled. “It’s gonna take me til tomorrow, they wanna spend time in the next town over. Something about a dinosaur museum.”
Despite his complaining, Stan couldn’t help the fondness that laced his words.
“Right. I’ll go get my coat.” Ford said.
‘Nuh-uh, you’re stayin’.”
“What? But-”
“No buts! We talked about this!”
This was a conversation Ford only half remembered from weeks ago. He remembered Stanley asking him sometime in the night, while he was distracted by work. At the time, he agreed.
“But why can’t I come with you?”
“Cuz old-man McGucket needs ya, ya knucklehead. Now stop makin’ me late!” Stanley said, grabbing his keys off the table. “And make sure ya eat something other than your supplement pills, we’re on land now!”
“I will, I will.” Ford grumbled. "And don't call him that. Makes me feel old."
"Hah, we're the same age, asshole."
Ford watched as Stan pulled his worn red beanie over his head and grinned back at him.
“Are you sure I can’t come with you? I’m sure Fiddleford will understand.”
“Poindexter, er killin’ me here. I can’t have you hoverin’ over me every minute.”
“I am not hovering!”
“Yes, yes you are.” Stan said pointedly. “Sheesh what’s a guy gotta do to get some time away from his smartass brother.”
He playfully punched Ford on the shoulder and shared a small laugh with him. No matter how many times it happens, he can’t help the nostalgia that washes over him from it.
Perhaps Stanley would be okay. He did just spend a whole year sailing with Ford. There’s only so much distance and privacy you can have in a small boat.
“Alright, you go pick up the kids.” Ford sighed.
“Great. I’ll try textin’ ya. Just so you know, I forget my own password sometimes.”
“Stanley.”
“Just kiddin’. I’ll be back tomorrow, and stop worryin’.”
Ford watched as Stanley whistled a happy little tune, kicking the door open and shooting him a grin.
“I’ll be back around noon. See ya then, Poindexter.”
Ford didn’t move until he saw El Diablo disappear from his driveway, then from the treeline. A small ball of anxiety started building in his gut. He hasn’t been away from his twin since before the portal. The familiar, haunting worry of not seeing Stanley would surely settle soon enough.
Just a day. Just a day and he’ll be back.
Well, Ford definitely can’t sleep now.
So, out of habit, Ford shrugs his worn, dirt caked trenchcoat once more and leaves through the front door. Perhaps he can visit Fiddleford after he cleared his head.
After triple checking the door was locked, Ford entered the forest with a journal in one hand and a pen in the other.