Chapter Text
“Just hand me– yep, that one. Thanks,” Stan grunted, taking the duffle bag from Ford’s arms and throwing it haphazardly into the Stanleymobile’s trunk. He was careful when closing it. The old girl had just gotten back from the repair shop not too long ago, and he had a lot of making up to do to her. He’d get her waxed as soon as he could.
Ford lingered next to him, looking like he wanted to say something. He had had that look ever since Stan woke up that morning. It was weird, remembering where he was and what he had been doing before he detransformed, but it was a good weird.
According to his brother, he had wandered off towards town before he was found, nearly about to attack some schmuck working late. He didn’t remember that. What he did remember was hearing his brother’s voice calling him forward from a void of blackness, reaching out and plucking him from his unconsciousness. And then he was himself. A much hairier, uglier version of himself, but still.
And now it was time to leave. He tried not to feel disappointed. This is what Ford wanted.
He double checked that every box and bag had been taken from the porch and packed away into his car, clasping a hand on Ford’s shoulder briefly before fishing his keys from his pocket and hopping into the front seat of his car to start it up. She purred, the motor sounding smoother than it had in a while.
Stan grinned. He was definitely getting the Stanleymobile waxed.
Ford leaned against the driver’s side door, still looking like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. He just lingered awkwardly.
“Thanks for everything,” Stan avoided eye contact, busying himself with readjusting his seat and checking his mirrors.
Ford blinked owlishly, “But I didn’t cure you?”
“I’m not a rampaging monster every full moon now. ‘S better than nothing, bro.”
Ford nodded, stepping back. He opened his mouth (what did he want to say, for fuck’s sake just say it) but simply smiled and switched gears, “So, where to next?”
He shrugged. He hadn’t fully thought that through– when did he ever– but he couldn’t say that to his brother. “Maybe I’ll head down to California, or up to Canada. See where the road takes me.”
“I bid you a safe journey, then.”
“Dork. Don’t say it like that.”
Ford laughed, “Sorry. It’s true, though. Please be safe.”
“I’ll try my best,” he put his car in drive, “I’ll… call. See ya around?”
“Goodbye, Stanley," he swallowed thickly, looking disappointed somehow (and like he wanted to say something).
Stan wanted to pause, or maybe waste more time, but he had no reason to. So, he let his foot off the brake and waited for his brother to step back before beginning down the dirt road, watching as Ford’s cabin grew smaller and smaller in his rearview mirror.
It felt bad, he wasn’t going to lie. Things hadn’t been sunshine and rainbows the entire time he was there, far from it, but he and his brother hadn’t ever been better. Well, obviously nearly ten years of radio silence was a low bar to get over but still. They weren’t perfect, but they were good. And now that had all come to an end. Stan wasn’t stupid enough to think that all of their issues could’ve been solved in a month but… they had gotten closer to fixing things. If they had time, they could have fixed things.
He sighed, stopping briefly to check for oncoming traffic right at the edge of Gopher Road. Just out of habit, he glanced into his rearview mirror–
Only to see Ford absolutely hauling ass after him, arms waving like an insane person.
“Stan!” he yelled, “Wait!”
“What the hell? Ford?” He parked the Stanleymobile and rolled down his window, just in time for Ford to catch up.
He panted, holding onto the rolled down window as he doubled over, “We really don’t know if the– the effects will hold over until the next full moon and– Moses– I’d like to monitor your health some more just to be safe. And you know, the woods around here have way more in the way of enrichment for a werewolf than any city could and–”
“Cut to the chase, buddy,” Stan urged, voice cautiously hopeful.
Ford nodded, eventually righting himself and taking a few deep breaths to steady his breathing. Finally able to speak properly, he adjusted his glasses and licked his lips nervously, “I’ve been wanting to ask this last night but…”
“Sixer, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Stanley, would you want to stay here? With me? Only if you want to.”
Stan isn’t afraid to admit that the tears that burst from his eyes and streamed down his cheeks were from happiness, not from the dust kicked up by his door swinging open as he pulled his brother into a tight hug, “Fuck yeah I do!”
Ford embraced him just as tightly.
They had a lot of making up to do.
***
There was a legend, amongst the children of Gravity Falls, of a wolf.
It’s said to be a monstrous wolf, one the size of a fully grown man, and that it ate any who stumbled across its path. It stalked the woods on nights with a full moon hanging brightly in the sky, hungry and ferocious, with a howl that shook the trees. It showed no mercy.
Not that this tale kept them from the woods. If there were bets to be made and bravery to be proved, then there would always be children willing to enter the woods. Even with the threat of a werewolf.
Robbie was one of those children, because it was nearing Halloween night, and he was not scared. He couldn’t be, because his whole friend group was standing with him at the edge of the woods and they were chanting for him to go in.
“C’mon don’t be a baby!” Nate sneered, shoving a flashlight into his hands.
He was twelve, hardly a baby, and determined to impress them. So of course, he only sneered back and tossed a hopeful look to Wendy. Not that she seemed to catch it, she was distant these days.
“What am I even supposed to do again?” he tsked, rolling his eyes, “This is dumb anyway.”
“Go in there and stay in there until the timer runs out,” Thompson held up a watch that they had forced him to snag from his dad, only to be manhandled by Lee into handing it over.
“We’ll call for you once your time is up. Try not to let the wolf catch ya!” he cackled, starting Robbie’s time with a click.
He swallowed, nodded, and flicked on his flashlight, “See you losers on the other side.”
“Good luck!”
“Try not to die, man.”
“We promise not to run if we hear you screaming.”
“Don’t be a wuss!”
His friends’ voices got quieter the longer he walked, and slowly, the only noise left was the crunching of the leaves under his feet and the whistle of the wind through the trees. Robbie shivered (because of the October chill, no other reason) and pulled his hoodie over his head, pulling the drawstrings tighter. He ignored the very persistent part of him that was convinced that he would run into a werewolf and focused on the fact that Wendy would think he was really cool if he stayed even longer than what the timer dictated.
Yeah, focus on Wendy, that made this a whole lot easier.
After walking long enough so that the lights of the town could hardly be seen, Robbie stopped. He’d camp there for the time being, try to relax. He sat down, feeling the cold ground suck the heat from his body.
It shouldn’t be too much longer. He practically burned up half his time just walking. He was almost done.
A tree branch snapped.
Robbie whipped his head towards the sound, heart in his throat. It was fine. It was probably a squirrel or chipmunk or something. Not a big hungry wolf there to devour him in one bite. Best to ignore it.
He forced his head to look away and forward, squeezing his eyes shut. Not too much longer now.
Another snap, and the hushed sound of a bush being slid through by something. Something that sounded big.
Blood rushed in his ears and he yelped, shooting up onto his feet and pointing his flashlight towards where he heard the rustling. His hands shook, but there was… nothing. Nothing obviously wolf shaped, at least. He huffed, annoyed at himself, and crept forward. The bush swayed gently in the wind, parting easily once Robbie gathered up enough courage to stick his hand forward and actually check what could have made the sound.
It was a possum. It took one look at him, hissed, and scurried away.
“Tch. Stupid,” he grumbled. This was all stupid. Why had he even been scared in the first place? Over some stupid fairy tale–
A growl. Right behind him.
His blood ran cold, heart stopping and all of his muscles locking up at once. The growl didn’t go away, and it certainly couldn’t have belonged to a possum. Robbie slowly turned.
And screamed.
It was the wolf. Large and imposing, it was more terrifying than the legend could ever say. Its eyes gleamed under the flashlight beam and teeth dripped with drool, face drawn up in a furious snarl.
“OH MY GOD! PLEASE DON’T KILL ME!” Robbie shrieked.
The wolf let out a bone-chilling howl, and he had enough sense to realize that he needed to run. Now.
He dropped his flashlight, crying in pure terror and sprinting harder than he ever had before in his life.
From beside the wolf, unknown to a quickly fleeing Robbie, more rustling occurred.
“Stanley,” the voice huffed, “What have I told you about scaring the locals?”
Ford appeared next to his brother, face flat and unimpressed. Stan snorted and sat down, so very obviously pleased with himself as Ford clicked his tongue.
“And look, he left his flashlight. His parents are not going to be pleased,” he picked it up, accidentally shining the bright light in his eyes, “Ugh! Stupid kids.”
Stan nudged his brother’s elbow.
“No, that is not me agreeing with you on terrorizing the youth. It’s cruel.”
For payback, he shined the light onto Stan’s face, highlighting the silver that had slowly begun to take over both of their heads (if Ford were to be vain, he would say that had much more brown left compared to his twin. Stan was nearly completely gray, and even as a wolf, you could tell.) Stan flinched and growled lowly.
“Alright, alright. That’s enough. Come, let’s head back home.”
Stan didn’t budge.
“Stan.”
Still, he didn’t move. Only stared up at his brother.
He groaned, rolling his eyes but acquiescing either way, “Fine. I suppose since it is the season for it, you can stay out. Just don’t scare them too badly. And come home if you get hungry.”
Stan barked happily. Ford sighed but couldn’t hide his smile. He wasn’t sure why he expected anything less from his brother. This was his favorite thing to do that time of year. Just another one of his brother’s… charming quirks.
Stan trotted off into the woods, not waiting for Ford. Being a werewolf had its perks. Sometimes. Especially on Halloween.
He was already planning on how to really freak those kids out.