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#Bill might be stuck with a familiar bond to Ford but since he's not powering THAT guy
tswwwit · 2 years
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Any more headcanons for that oneshot you made where Bill is Ford's familiar? How does Ford react to Bill getting close to his nephew? How does Bill use this to his advantage? If Dipper can't get a slice of Bill's power, how does his magic shape up in the end?
Sure, why not!
This got longer than I wanted, so it's under a read more. Also, here's the link to the snippet in question.
I think that Dipper and Bill end up hanging out a lot, honestly. Dipper's a lonely guy, and Bill's bored out of his angles, so he's going to be on at least sorta decent behavior, since Dipper's providing more entertainment than he's had in decades. (Ford is unaware of this)
Still very much Bill, though; he absolutely tries multiple tricks in the book to try and get Dipper to break him out, or subtly trick him into getting Ford into a fatal accident. Dipper's been warned, though - I don't think any of them work!
Eventually Dipper gives in and offers a deal: He'll banish Bill back to his realm (He's been trapped in a basement for thirty years, no surprise he wants Ford dead, that sort of thing just straight-up sucks-) as long as Bill doesn't harm him or his family. Bill, once again in a terrible position to bargain, is happy to get the hell out of reality rather than be stuck in a circle for another decade or so.
This.... probably ends up in a pretty big fight between Ford and Dipper. Once he notices Bill is missing. If the Stans weren't already at odds, that'd be the kicker to set it off.
Little does Dipper know, but now that Bill's 'free' - he's gotten his stuff in order, hummed a little tune to himself - and decided it's the perfect opportunity to start courting that cute little mortal in earnest.
#answers#Ford's still bonded to Bill and that'll be true until he dies#But since it likely wasn't an accident in his case he doesn't have Mindscape access#His prisoner has escaped and he's absolutely furious. Does Dipper have *any idea* how much havoc Cipher could cause#Dipper meanwhile has gotten Emotionally Attached at some point and goes off about maybe keeping PRISONERS for thirty years is fucked up#Dipper has a restless night of upset sleep#And wouldn't you know it Bill pops in with some creepy gift (flowers?? A screaming head? In a bouquet of flowers)#What can he say? The kid's real cute. He's been pretty decent company. He betrayed his uncle for Bill!! VERY Sexy of him#And MAN that MIND#He's straightening his tie and spritzing cologne on as he comes up with Date Ideas#Cue: Dipper Not Getting that Bill's 100% after him romantically now#Bill might be stuck with a familiar bond to Ford but since he's not powering THAT guy#Nothing stops him from going 'aw you're cute. Have a little magic why don'tcha' to Dipper#Like a rich man slapping a huge wad of cash in their partner's hand and pinching their butt while they tell 'em to go shopping#Demons *can* give power to mortals - they just don't usually do it without taking something in return during a deal#I enjoy the mental image of Bill taking a page from Hua Cheng's book and going 'oh you need some energy?? Sure!!'#'We gotta lock lips to make the transfer though so pucker up'#Dipper has no reason to question this statement even if he is skeptical#Anyway it probably all works out well in the end! With presumably Bill causing chaos more directly this time#Dipper all not realizing he has a crush until Bill shapeshifts human one time and he goes 'oh no I'm in danger'#I should stop before I get tempted to write this#I have other stuff to do damn it
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Precipice Chapter 5: The Saddest Song
Here we go!  The angst train is leaving the station!
Chapter 4       Chapter 6
Warnings for blood, violence, and some...freaky-deaky eerie magical implications.
This one guys, this one got painful.  Enjoy!
Ford was paralyzed.  No, no, nonono.  This can’t be happening.  This can’t be real.  His breath hitched in his lungs, and it felt like ice was forming in his chest, squeezing his heart.  He was caught like a deer in the headlights under the yellow glare coming from his brothers eyes.
”IN THE FLESH FORDSY!” Bill cackled through Stan. “WELL, NOT MY FLESH YET, BUT THIS IS BETTER THAN NOTHING.  ESPECIALLY SINCE YOU DECIDED TO BLOCK ALL MY CALLS.”  Bill awkwardly moved Stan’s broken arm and knocked the plaster cast against his head, hard. “TALK ABOUT RUDE.”
Blood stated to seep through the bandages around Stan’s head where Bill had banged the cast against it.  The sight of the crimson stain growing on the white bandages snapped Ford out of his stupor. “BILL!”  Ford yelled, his voice thick with fear and rage “Get out of my brother!”
”AWW LOOK AT YOU FORDSY, PRETENDING TO BE A CARING BROTHER AFTER FORTY YEARS OF HATING OL’ STANLEY’S GUTS!  IT’S ADORABLE WATCHING YOU MEAT SACKS AND YOUR DELUSIONS OF LOVE AND ALL THAT JUNK!”  Bills grin impossibly got wider, stretching Stanley’s face to the point that it made Ford’s cheeks hurt just looking at him.  “BUT HEY, IF YOU INSIST ON PRETENDING TO LOVE YOUR DUMB BROTHER, I’LL PLAY ALONG!”  Bill twisted, swinging Stanley’s broken arm over to the one that was tied to the bed.  Before Ford could even process what Bill was doing, he grabbed Stan’s thumb and gave it a hard wrench.  A sickening ‘pop’ echoed through the hospital room, and Bill slid Stan’s hand through the restraint with a loud, pleased laugh.  “OHH MAN!  I FORGOT HOW AMAZING IT FEELS TO DISLOCATE FINGERS!  I MEAN, A DISLOCATED ARM IS FUN AND ALL, BUT THERE’S JUST SOMETHING SO INTENSE ABOUT DISLOCATING SOMETHING SO SMALL!”  Bill reached down and undid the restraints around Stan’s ankles, before throwing the thin hospital sheet and Mabel’s beautiful gift to the floor.  He swung around, hanging Stan’s legs off the side of the bed, and threw his arms out as best he could, tugging the IV lines taught.  “COME GIVE YOUR BROTHER A HUG SIXER!  WE BOTH KNOW YOU WANT TO!”
Ford took a step back, mind racing.  “This is a trick!  Enough of your games Cipher!  Leave me in peace!”  This was all a dream.  That was the only situation that made sense.  Ford must have fallen asleep in that chair, and left himself open, vulnerable to Cipher and his power over the Mindscape. That had to be what was happening.  Ford knew that Stan would never fall for Bill’s tricks and flattery.
“OH HO HO, YOU WISH THIS WAS A TRICK SIXER!”  Bill cackled  “YOU WISH THAT THIS WAS JUST ONE OF YOUR NIGHTMARES!  BUT, NOPE, THIS IS 100 PERCENT, CERTIFIABLY REAL!”  Bill waved Stan’s arms around, doing his best to aggravate Stan’s broken arm by banging it against his chest repeatedly.  “Y’SEE, EVEN THOUGH HE ISN’T QUITE PRESENT, STANNY BOY’S MINDSCAPE IS VERY MUCH ACTIVE!  WELL,  IT’S AS ACTIVE AS AN IDIOT LIKE YOUR BROTHER’S CAN BE!”
“Don’t you dare!”  Ford roared, pointing a finger at Bill and taking a step forward.  Hot rage and icy fear were both swirling in Fords chest, making it difficult to decide what to do.  Part of him wanted to flee, and part of him wanted to fight.  But Ford was certain of one thing: whatever he did, he wasn’t going to leave Stanley.  “Don’t you dare insult my brother!”
Bill waved Stanley’s right hand dismissively, making the dislocated thumb stick out at an awkward angle.  A small trickle of blood started to flow out from under Stanley’s bandages. “OH PUH-LEASE SMART GUY!  DON’T PRETEND THAT I’M NOT SAYING ANYTHING THAT YOU HAVEN’T THOUGHT!  I’VE SEEN EVERY INCH OF YOUR MIND STANFORD!  WE BOTH AGREE THAT STANLEY IS JUST A GOOD-FOR-NOTHING LYING BUM!”
“Shut up Bill!  Shut up and leave him alone, he’s hurt!”  Ford took another step towards Bill, hands held out in a placating gesture.  Over Stan’s shoulder, Ford caught sight of a small metal tray next to the bed, with a single needle filled with a clear drug, resting on it.  One of the doctors must have left it, in case Stanley had woken up violently again.  A vague plan, more like a snippet of one, started to form in Ford’s mind.  Perhaps I could use that to expel Bill from Stanley’s body.  I just need to get around him with out Bill figuring out what I’m trying to do, or else who knows what he could try to do to Stanley. Let’s see if I can get him rambling.  Bill loves to talk about himself.  “Leave, before one of the doctors comes to see why his breathing tube disconnected.”  Ford knew it was a clumsy change in topic, but he had to try.
“PFFT, AS IF SIXER!”  Bill didn’t seem to notice or care about Fords desperate conversation switch.  “I’VE BEEN TRYING TO GET AHOLD OF THIS BODY SINCE STANLEY BROKE HIS SKULL OPEN!  EVEN WHEN HE’S HALUCINATING ABOUT YOU TWO BEING ON THAT STUPID BOAT, STANLEY’S PRETTY CRAFTY!  A CONMAN AFTER MY OWN NONEXISTANT HEART, HE IS!”  Bill’s voice was filled with mock pride as he spoke.  It made Ford sick to hear him talking about Stanley, his Stanley, his brother, his twin, like he was some sort of prized protégée.  “I’M INSULTED THAT YOU THINK I WOULD WASTE ALL OF THAT EFFORT TO GET HERE WITHOUT MAKING SURE THE MEAT SACKS THAT FIX BROKEN MEAT SACKS WERE OUT OF THE WAY!  NO ONE IS GOING TO BOTHER COMING AROUND HERE FOR AT LEAST AN HOUR AND A HALF.”   Bill’s grin shifted into something more taunting.  A spike of fear stabbed Ford in the heart.  Oh no, what now?  “IN FACT I’M SO INSULTED, I THINK I MIGHT DO...THIS!!”  In one swift movement, Bill dislocated another one of Stan’s fingers, letting out another insane peal of laughter.
“STOP!”  Ford’s voice cracked as he screamed at Bill.  “Bill, please, please I’m begging you!”  He reached out to Stanley, taking another step forward.  Ford’s outstretched hand’s were mere inches away from Stanley’s wrists.  Maybe if I go now, I could get to the sedative, and end this now!
“REALLY?  THE HIGH AND MIGHTY DR. STANFORD FILBRICK PINES PhD TIMES TWELVE, BROUGHT SO LOW THAT HE’S BEGGING SOMEONE FOR SOMETHING?  I NEVER THOUGHT I’D SEE THE DAY!”  Bill taunted  “AND I NEVER THOUGHT YOUR DUMB BROTHER WOULD BE THE THING YOU’RE BEGGING FOR!”  Bill laughed, smacking Stanley’s thigh with his broken arm as he did so.  The cast clunked as it hit the brace on Stanley’s leg, and Bill laughed harder at the pain  "THAT IS RICH I TELL YA FORDSY!  BUT HEY, SINCE YOU’RE BEGGING AND ALL, YOU MIGHT AS WELL DO IT PROPERLY!”  Bill placed one of Stanley’s injured fingers on Fords forehead and gave a weak push.  Ford had no choice but to step back, further away from the demon wearing his brother’s skin and the syringe that could end the living hell Ford had to rescue Stan from.  “WHY DON’T YOU TAKE A COUPLE OF STEPS BACK FORDSY?  GIVE US SOME SPACE, AND KNEEL FOR US SIXER!”  Bill cackled.
Ford hesitated.  He couldn’t kneel to Cipher!  He needed to stay on his feet, needed to get to that sedative, before Bill tried to throw Stanley’s body down the stairs across the hall, or something even worse.  And even though he wouldn’t admit it to himself, a small part of Ford felt repulsed at the idea of showing any sort of subservience to the triangular demon, for any reason.  Ford was long past the days he thought Bill was worth any sort of praise.
Bills smile twisted sinisterly.  “WELL, THAT’S A SHAME THAT IS.  YOU CAN’T EVEN BEG FOR YOUR OWN BROTHER’S LIFE PROPERLY!  BUT HEY, WE BOTH KNOW YOU DON’T REALLY LOVE THIS GUY SIXER! YOU JUST WANNA PLAY THE HERO LIKE ALWAYS, DON’T YOU?  BE THE BETTER BROTHER AGAIN, RIGHT?”  Bill scoffed.  “BUT REALLY, THIS GUY ISN’T WORTH YOUR PITY.  YOU CAN DROP THE ACT FORDSY, IT’S JUST US TWO OLD FRIENDS HERE!”  Bill rolled his eyes in disdain and absently waved Stanley’s hand around, gesturing vaguely towards the ceiling with Stanley’s dislocated fingers. “WELL, STAN IS FLOATING AROUND HERE TOO, BUT HE’S A LITTLE, ‘OUT OF ORDER’ AT THE MOMENT, IF YOU CATCH MY DRIFT.” Bill laughed, lower and more sinisterly than normal.  The demons words alarmed Ford.  What could he mean by that?  Bill reached over and grabbed another one of Stanley’s fingers.
Ford’s heart leapt straight into his throat, almost choking him as he desperately cried out to the demon “WAIT!”  Ford held his hands up and dropped to his knees, looking up at Bill.  “Wait.  Please, I’m kneeling Bill. I am kneeling and I am begging you to leave Stanley alone.”  Ford watched in trepidation as Bill eyed him with an unreadable look on Stanley’s face.  A familiar feeling of unease settled in Ford’s stomach.  He could remember the days when Stanley and him had been able to read each others faces like open books.  Ever since Ford had been brought home, that bond had been achingly absent despite Ford’s attempts to ignore that feeling of loss, but it was the times when he would look at Stanley and not be able to read anything off of him that Ford felt the absence of that connection the most.  This time was a thousand times worse than all the other times though.  “Please, just give me my brother back, Bill.”
Bill laughed. “THIS IS PATHETIC SIXER!  YOU SOUND JUST LIKE STANLEY HERE DID WHEN WE MADE OUR DEAL LAST NIGHT.” 
Ford blinked in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Bill groaned  “STAN’S MINDSCAPE HAS BEEN STUCK ON ONE PARTICULAR MEMORY SINCE HIS HILARIOUS LITTLE ACCIDENT.  SOME DUMB THING WITH THE TWO OF YOU ON THAT BEAT UP OLD BOAT.  HE KEPT IGNORING ME WHEN HE THOUGHT THE TWO OF YOU WERE STILL BUDDY-BUDDY, AND HIS MINDSCAPE IS SO MUDDLED THAT IT TOOK ME AWHILE TO DREDGE UP A DIFFERENT MEMORY TO STICK HIM IN.  BUT BOY, WAS IT WORTH IT!  IT TOOK BARELY A MINUTE BEFORE STANLEY WAS BEGGING ME ‘I WANT MY BROTHER BACK, PLEASE, JUST GIVE ME MY BROTHER BACK.” Bill mocked. “AND, AS A BONUS, THAT MADE HIM START FREAKING OUT OUT HERE.  NOW THAT WAS A GREAT SHOW!”
Ford gaped up at Bill.  “What memory did you-did you put Stanley in?”  Ford knew Stan had gone to jail before, and a vague memory having to do with the trunk of a car poked the corners of his brain.  He had no idea what could have been so bad, so terrible, to make Stanley react the way he did.
Bill smirked at Ford, leered at him down on the ground.  The blood running down Stanley’s face had increased, and had started to drip off of his chin.  The crimson droplets fell all the way down to the floor, landing on the blanket Mabel had knit.  The grey wool of the sailboat absorbed the blood, turning a murky, ugly color.  “I JUST TOOK HIM BACK TO THE WORST NIGHT OF HIS LIFE FORDSY.”  Bill said in a manner-of-fact tone.  “THE NIGHT HE GOT KICKED OUT AND STARTED LIVING IN HIS CAR.”  Bill held Fords gaze for a moment, yellow against brown, before he wrenched Stanley’s finger backward.  There was a sickening ‘snap’ along with the horrible ‘pop’, and Bill laughed hysterically as Ford cried out in desperation “STOP IT!”
“OH MAN OH MAN OH MAN, I THINK I BROKE THAT FINGER AND DISLOCATED IT AT THE SAME TIME!  I’VE NEVER DONE THAT BEFORE SIXER, NOT EVEN WITH YOU!”  Bill wiped a mirthful tear off of Stanley’s face, smearing the blood from Stanley’s head wound.  He grabbed another one of Stanley’s fingers, smiling with cruel glee.
“PLEASE BILL, PLEASE!”  Ford screamed at the demon, tears filling his eyes again. His hands smacked the ground, fingers spread wide.  “LEAVE HIM ALONE!!”  Ford couldn’t look up at the demon anymore, couldn’t bare to see those yellow eyes in his brothers face.  He bowed his head, screwed his eyes shut, and tried to look as submissive as possible.  Ford clenched his teeth, holding back a sob.  He felt so useless!  The only reason Stanley was in this mess in the first place was because of Ford and his research and his stubborn pride.  Ford had to play along with Bill’s sick game until he could get the sedative, and hopefully that would work.  If he had to kneel and beg, he would kneel and he would beg.  For Stanley.
“HMM, YOU KNOW, THAT’S A REALLY CONVINCING ARGUMENT STANFORD.”  Bills voice dripped with sarcasm.  “I THINK I’M ACTUALLY GONNA LISTEN TO YOU AND LEAVE THIS WORTHLESS WASTE OF SPACE YOU CALL A BROTHER.”  Ford’s hands clenched into fists on the ground as Bill insulted Stanley again, but he forced himself not to react.  There was a tense pause.  “HAHA, JUST KIDDING!  WE BOTH KNOW I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE UNTILL I GET WHAT I WANT FORDSY!”  Bill said in a sing-song tone, swinging Stanley’s good leg back and forth to beat out a solemn rhythm on the side of the hospital bed.
“The Rift.”  Ford breathed out, eyes snapping open to stare at the hospital floor.  Of course that was what this was all about.  Bill was holding Stanley hostage in order to get the Rift.  Ford’s stomach dropped in despair.
“DING DING DING, YOU GOT IT IN ONE TRY!”  Bill mockingly cheered, clapping Stanley’s injured hands together.  Ford felt nauseous when he saw the angles Stanley’s finger were bent at.  “NOW, HERE’S WHAT WE’LL DO.  I’LL PLAY COMATOSE FOR A BIT WHILE YOU RUN HOME AND GET THE RIFT!  WE TRADE OFF, ONE TEAR IN THE VERY FABRIC OF SPACE FOR ONE USELESS BROKEN OLD MEAT-SACK, AND THEN WE’LL CALL IT A DAY!  HOW’S THAT SOUND FORDSY, DO WE HAVE A DEAL?”  Bill offered Ford a handshake with Stanley’s mangled hand, a smug, self-confident grin on his stolen face.
“No.”  The word barely made it out of Ford’s mouth, but it still stung and burned his throat as he forced himself to say it.  “You can’t have the Rift.”  Ford knew he was condemning his brother to further torture, and every molecule he was comprised of protested.  But if Bill got the Rift, Stanley, as well as everyone else in Fords home dimension, would be as good as dead.  Ford knew he could force Bill out of his brother’s body, he knew that this was the right decision, the only decision that could be made.  But that didn’t stop him from hating himself for it.
“HMM.”  Bill hummed contemplatively, and Ford felt his heart stop and his blood run cold.  He had been expecting Bill to rage, and more than likely make Stanley suffer more.  Ford had been hoping that Bill would get so angry he could make a dash for the sedative.  Now, he froze to the ground, terrified of what Bill had planned for Stanley.  “WELL THEN,” Bill pulled Stanley’s hand back and leaned closer to Ford.  Ford sat up higher, leaning back on his heels, his face less than a foot away from where Bill’s eyes shone out of Stanley’s face.  “WHAT IF I SWEETEN THE DEAL?”
“What?”  Ford’s voice cracked as he spoke.  The knowing smile Bill had twisted onto his brothers face was unnerving, and his yellow eyes were far too close.
“Y’SEE FORDSY, THE PHSICAL WORLD THAT YOU’RE PART OF TIES DIRECTLY INTO THE MINDSCAPE.  IT HAS A LOT MORE INFLUENCE ON MY DOMAIN THAN I’VE LET ON BEFORE.”  Bill voice took on a tone that Ford remembered him using back when they were working on the Portal together.  It was candid, with a touch of condescension that had always slightly irked Ford back then, but he had ignored it in favor of learning from what he had considered a muse at the time.  Now, it sent unpleasant chills down Fords spine.  “STANLEY TOOK A HUGE HIT TO THE HEAD, AND ALL THE TRAUMA TO HIS BRAIN HAS REALLY DONE A NUMBER ON HIS MINDSCAPE.  THAT, PLUS ALL THE DRUGS THAT ARE PUMPING INTO HIS FLESHY MEAT-SACK BODY,”  Bill waved Stan’s arm, straining the IV lines further and causing blood to bubble up on Stanley’s arm where they were inserted.  “LEAVES STANNY HERE A PRIME CANDIDATE FOR SOME MUCH NEEDED...REWIRING, YOU COULD CALL IT.”  Bill gave Ford a sly grin.
Confusion swirled through Ford for a moment, before the full implications of what Bill was saying crashed down on Ford with the force of an asteroid careening through Earth’ s atmosphere and landing on him.  A small, choked gasp wheezed out of Ford.  Pure panic clouded his thoughts, turning them into a jumble of not possible, can’t be true, need to save Stanley, what has he done, and leaving him frozen in place.  “You didn’t...” Ford coughed out, horrified at what he might hear.
“DON’T WORRY, I HAVEN’T DONE ANYTHING YET!”  Bill said  “I WOULD NEED TO MAKE A DEAL WITH SOMEONE TO HAVE ENOUGH POWER TO RESHAPE A HUMAN’S MIND AND PERSONALITY.”   He smacked Stanley in the head with the cast again.  “EVEN WHEN IT’S AS SCREWED UP AS THIS ONE IS.  SO!”  Bill clapped Stanley’s hands together in excitement.  “YOU HAND ME THE RIFT, I GIVE YOU A NEW-AND-IMPROVED TWIN!” 
“...new-and-improved...”  Ford murmured numbly.  This was worse than he could have imagined.  Bill was in Stanley’s head, and worse than that, Bill could...he could...alter Stanley’s mind and personality.  Bill could rewrite the core of his brothers being, his very soul.
All he needed was someone to make a deal with him.
And Bill thought Ford would want-would be the one to-his own brother-
“SOUNDS PRETTY GREAT, DOESN’T IT?”  Bill said eagerly, leaning closer to Ford with a conspiratorial look on his face.  “WHAT DO YOU WANT DONE?  YOU TWO ARE ALWAYS FIGHTING, SO I BET YOU’D LIKE HIM TO BE MORE SUBMISSIVE.  I CAN FIX HIS SENSE OF HUMOR TOO, MAKE IT MORE YOUR STYLE.  I CAN MAKE HIM LIKE THAT NERDY GAME YOU THINK IS SO GREAT.  AND I KNOW YOU HATE THE MYSTERY SHACK, SO WE CAN HAVE STANNY HERE SHUT THAT DOWN EASY-PEASY.  OH!  I CAN EVEN MAKE HIM SMARTER, BELIEVE IT OR NOT!”  Bill leaned back, throwing Stanley’s arms wide and finally managing to rip the IV lines out of Stanley’s arm.  Blood spurted, landing all over the knit blanket on the floor.  Bill didn’t notice.  “THE SKY IS THE LIMIT FORDSY!  YOU CAN MAKE THE TWIN BROTHER YOU ALWAYS WANTED!  WHADDAYA SAY?  DO WE HAVE A DEAL?”  Bill held Stanley’s hand out to Ford again.
Stanley’s mangled hand hung in front of Ford’s face.  He looked at it, and his eyes trace up Stanley’s arm, past the fingers that were sticking out at odd angles, the blood that was dribbling down his arm and dripping onto the blanket, and Ford focused on Stanley’s face.  Not the lurid yellow eye’s with slit-like pupils, not the too wide, unnerving grin, but the ghost of a six-knuckled bruise on his jaw.  The bruise Stanley had gotten because he was stubborn, and unwilling to listen to reason, and loyal to a fault, and for some reason he though that Ford was worth more than an entire dimension.  The horror Ford had felt at Bill’s talk of remaking Stanley ignited into rage.  Ford pushed himself off of his knees.
“No.”  This time he said it firmly, his voice stronger than it had been during the whole cursed conversation with Bill.
Bill looked affronted “NO?  YOU’RE TURNING DOWN AN OFFER LIKE THIS?  YOU GIVE ME ONE MEASLY TEAR IN THE FABRIC OF REALITY, AND I GIVE YOU THE PERFECT TWIN BROTHER, A ONCE IN A LIFETIME OPPORTUNITY, AND YOU’RE TELLING ME NO!?”  Bill growled out the last word.
“I would never agree to doing something like that to anybody, no matter the circumstances!”  Ford growled back, fists clenched at his sides.  “I’ll never hand the Rift over to you, and I’ll never take your deal for the ‘perfect twin’” He spat the words out like they were venom.  “All I want is to have my brother back!”
Bill was silent for a moment, then he let out a derisive snort and forced Stanley’s body to stand.  He swayed for a moment, distressing Ford, before he found his balance, standing with most of his weight on Stanley’s left leg.  Ford saw his chance to grab the sedative. “WRONG CHOICE SIXER.”  Bill snarled.
Ford dove around Stanley’s right side, aiming to vault the bed, but Bill lifted Stanley’s broken arm, and Ford’s face collided with the hard plaster cast.  Ford reeled back, stunned, and Bill staggered, but managed to keep Stanley’s body upright.  Ford recovered first, diving onto the bed and reaching for the sedative.
“WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING?”  Stanley’s cast clipped the side of Ford’s head, spinning him around.  His fingertips clipped the edge of the tray holding the sedative, tipping it over onto the bed.  A bony knee pressed down onto Ford’s stomach, and Ford instinctively curled his hand into a fist, pulled it back, and-
-he dropped the fist as quickly as he had made it.  Don’t hurt Stanley!  Ford put his hands again Stanley’s chest and started to push-
-until he felt the broken ribs.  He couldn’t do anything to defend himself without hurting Stanley!
“WHAT’S THE MATTER FORDSY? AFRAID OF HURTING YOUR IDIOT BROTHER?”  Bill laughed over Ford, and reached for his throat with Stanley’s right hand.   “HEY! THIS’LL MAKE A GREAT STORY FOR THE NEWS! ‘STAN PINES WAKES FROM COMA JUST TO MURDER HIS BROTHER AND JUMP OFF THE ROOF’!”  The dislocated and broken fingers meant Bill had to press the heel of Stanley’s hand against his wind pipe, forcing Ford’s head down and back, the top of it pressing into the mattress.
Ford struggled to breath, and already darkness started to encroach upon his vision.  Upside-down, Ford was able to see the syringe. Clumsily, with his sight dimming and everything starting to go fuzzy, Ford wrapped one hand around Stanley’s forearm, and with the other he snagged the syringe, miraculously without stabbing himself with the needle.  With a strangled gasp, Ford plunged the needle into Stanley’s forearm.
For a moment, nothing happened.  Everything around Ford faded to a murky blur, with the bright yellow of Bill’s eyes staying vibrant.  The word’s I’m sorry, Stanley echoed through Ford’s head.
Then, Stanley’s arm buckled.  Ford gasped, sucking in a desperate breath of air.  Above him, Bill was resting Stanley’s forearm on Ford’s chest, the syringe sticking out of it.  Ford could feel blood soak into his sweater.  “WHAAT WAS THA SHTUFF?”  Bill slurred, blinking and shaking Stanley’s head back and forth.  His yellow eyes got hazy and half-lidded, and Bill struggled to keep Stanley’s body upright.  “YOU THINK THISH IS OVER SSHIXER? WON’ BELON’ FOR I’M BACK STANFERD.  GONNA MAKE ‘NOTHER DEEL SHOON, ‘NTHEN I’LL GET TH’ RIFT.  YER GONNA SLIP UP, N’ WHEN YA DO...”  Bill struggled to say more, but Stanley’s body finally gave out, succumbing to the drug, collapsing on top of Ford.  “UUUGHHHnnn...”  Bill gave a final groan, his voice fading out and Stanley’s deeper, more gravely voice filled Ford’s ears.  The yellow faded from Stanley’s eyes as they slid shut.
Ford lay on the bed for a moment, stunned and trying to catch his breath.  Stanley rested on top of him, unmoving.  With a sudden jolt, Ford remembered all of Stanley’s injuries, and his IV’s needed to be reinserted, and his breathing tube was- Stanley’s breathing tube was out!
As quickly as he could without being too rough on his brother’s battered body, Ford wormed out from underneath him.  Ford checked Stanley’s breathing quickly, and was relieved to find a trickle of air passing through his brother’s lips, though it was weak and irregular.  Ford felt bile rise in his throat as he redid the restraints around Stanley’s wrist and ankles, but he couldn’t let the hospital staff know what had really happened.  At best Ford could see them removing him from Stanley’s room, and at worst they would retain him on suspicions of mental instability.  Neither was a viable option.
Ford carefully relocated and set Stanley’s injured fingers, which were swelling and turning lurid shades of blue and purple and green.  Stanley’s arm was still bleeding, so Ford peeled his new sweater off and wadded it around Stanley’s arm.  Before leaving he retrieved the button-down from the bathroom and threw it on, only doing up a few buttons as he sped out of the hospital room.  Stanley was the only patient in the ICU, and there wasn’t a doctor or nurse in sight.
Ford skidded out of the ICU, swinging his trench coat on.  He made it down two more hallways before almost literally running into a pair of doctors.
After some shouting and overly excited arm waving, Ford was able to rush the doctors into Stanley’s room.  Luckily for Ford, his frantic behavior discouraged the doctors from asking too many questions.  While one doctor tended to Stanley, the other insisted on looking at Ford’s bruising face.  Not for the first time, Ford’s nose had been broken, although this was the first time Ford had been injured by Stanley’s hand.
At a request from Ford, the blanket and sweater Mabel had knit were taken and washed quickly.  He couldn’t bare to think of Mabel seeing that the gifts she had made for Stanley and him were missing.  One of the doctors, with the help of a nurse he had brought in, jury-rigged a restraint for Stanley’s broken arm.
After Ford was left alone with Stanley again, he collapsed into his chair.  Ford couldn’t take his eyes off of his brothers face, which was slack and relaxed now, a contrast to the manic grin Bill had forced onto his face.
Ford sighed, hanging his head.  Bill had possessed Stanley.  It was something Ford hadn’t considered a possibility before, and now because of his short-sightedness, Bill had manipulated his brother, tormented him both physically and mentally. 
And then, there was the...rewiring Bill had talked about.  Simply thinking about what Bill was suggesting made Ford feel terrified.  More than that, it made Ford feel completely helpless.  Ford could protect Stanley physically- though he had already failed at that-but there was nothing Ford could do to protect Stanley in his own mind!
All Bill needed was a deal.
It didn't matter who he made it with.
And Ford would lose his brother again, but this time, there would be no possible way to get him back.
“Oh Stanley, what are we going to do?”  Ford sighed.  Unsurprisingly, Stanley didn’t answer.
Ford stood and paced, trying to think of a plan, a course of action, anything!  But the only thoughts that filled his head were of Bill, poking around in Stanley’s mind, scrambling it, reshaping it, remaking his brother into someone he wasn’t, and the knowledge that Bill could be doing so at that very moment.  If there was any food in Ford’s stomach, it would have come up again.  He couldn’t think, there were too many thoughts swirling through his head.  Ford longed for one of his Journals, just so he could have some way to organize his thoughts!  At the thought of his Journals, a small plan started to form.  He would have to work fast, and he needed to look through his Journals first, but maybe, just maybe, he might have a chance to fix things.  But first he needed to get his Journals, and he couldn’t wait till morning.
The door clicked open, and Ford whirled to face it.  A young nurse walked in, holding Stanley’s blanket and Ford’s sweater, freshly cleaned.  She started at Ford’s behavior, but she quickly relaxed and gave Ford a kind smile.  
“Here you go sir.”  She held the knit items out to Ford, and he snatched them out of her hands with a murmur of thanks.  Ford gently draped the blanket over Stanley, feeling a twinge of painful nostalgia when he saw the sailboat again.  He quickly turned back to the young nurse, catching her attention before she left.
“Excuse me, miss?  I need to use a phone.  And a phone book.”
The nurse lead Ford to the desk just outside of Stanley’s room.  Ford felt immediate unease leaving Stanley alone, but it was necessary.  
It took Ford far too long to find the number for the Ramirez household, and even longer for him to get the exhausted Soos on the other end of the line to give him the number of Wendy’s cellular phone.  Then it took him two tries before Wendy responded.
“Whotheflipisthisit’soneinthemorningIhopeyouhavelifeinsurancecauseI’mgonnashankyouwhenI’mconsciousyouflamingpieceof-” 
“Wendy, it’s Dr. Pines.”  Ford cut off her slurred, half-awake tirade.
“It’s one in the morning.”  Wendy said flatly.
“Yes, I am aware of that-”
“Why’re you calling me at one in the morning old man?”  Wendy growled into the phone, before giving a small gasp.  “Did something else happen to Stan?”
Ford hesitated briefly before answering “No, Stan is fine.  I need you to do me a favor.  It’s urgent.”
On the other end of the line, Ford heard Wendy shifting around.  “Okay.  What do you need me to do at this ungodly hour Stan Two?”
Ford blinked, mildly surprised at her quick cooperation.  He was about to request that she collect his Journals and bring them to him at the hospital, but he saw two looming flaws in that plan.  One, the time it would take for the Journals to get to him, and two, he would have to leave Stanley alone if he were to put his plan into action.  
“Hey, Stan Two, are you still there?”  Wendy’s voice brought Ford out of his reverie.
“Yes.  Wendy, I need you to listen to me, very carefully.  This could help Stanley’s recovery, but speed is of the essence.”  Ford carefully listed off everything he needed Wendy to do.  Occasionally, Wendy would have him repeat something, and Ford could hear the sound of something scratching against paper on the end of the phone. 
“Is that everything Doc?”  Wendy asked.
“Yes.  That should be all.”  Ford said, running through everything in his head.
“Okay.  I’ll get started on all of this...weird junk you need me to do.  See you in a bit.”
“Wendy?”  Ford stopped her from hanging up on him just yet.  “Thank you.  For helping me and my family with all of this.”
“Yeah.  No prob, dude.”  Wendy’s voice had a touch of concern to it.  “Just hang in there.”  She ended the call.
Ford returned to Stanley’s room, finally changing back into the sweater from Mabel.  It was still warm from the wash.  Then, he waited.
An hour passed.
Then two.
As the third hour passed, Ford was ready to tear the hospital room apart.
A knock came from the window, making Ford jump.  He stalked over to it, cautiously peeking through the curtains.  Wendy was perched outside of the hospital window.  The fourth floor hospital window.  Ford pulled the window open and Wendy slid inside.  Instead of her typical Corduroy family flannel, she had on a dark tank top with a wolf on it and shorts, and she had a backpack slung over her shoulders.
“What were you doing out there?”  Ford scolded her.  “You could have fallen to your death!”
Wendy swung the backpack off and started rummaging through it.  “Relax old man.  I’ve been climbing trees higher than that since I was eight.”
“I don’t doubt your skill Wendy.”  Ford said.  “I would just prefer that no one else ends up in the hospital anytime soon.”
“Oh.”  Wendy gave Ford an unreadable look.  “Sorry, Dr. Pines.  Visiting hours are closed right now.  That was the only way I could get in.”  She started to hand things to Ford; a small cloth sack with contents that clinked softly, several old mercury thermometers stolen from the Gravity Falls museum, photocopies of Journal 3 that Ford had found in his basement lab, a bottle of glue, a few tools Ford had picked up from other dimensions and, to Ford’s complete surprise, a small sandwich bag full of rainbow toned unicorn hair.
“How in the multiverse did you manage to get this?”  Ford stared at the unicorn hair in wonder.
“Fairy Dust.”  Wendy said shortly.  “I’ll give you the whole story tomorrow.  Or, y’know, when today feels like daytime.”
Ford winced apologetically.  “I’m sorry that I had to wake you at this hour.”
Wendy shrugged her backpack on. “Eh, it’s cool dude.  You’re just trying to help your brother.  I know the feeling.”  She gave him a small smile before slipping back out the window.  Ford watched her make it safely to the ground before setting to work.
It took him around twenty minutes to bury the moonstones and mercury in the linoleum floor with the tools he had gotten from Dimension Z#’m, and another fifteen to glue the unicorn hair around the whole room, going up and around the door frame.  It was far too much time.
Ford didn’t finish the barrier completely.  Right next to Stanley’s bed, down near the floor, there was a tiny gap.  Ford didn’t know if Bill was in Stanley’s mind or not, and he had to make sure that Stanley’s mind was free of the demon before he sealed the room.  Ford moved his chair close to the head of Stanley’s bed and rifled through the copies of his Journal.  With a satisfied hum, Ford found the page he was looking for.  The incantation that would allow him to enter his brothers mind.
Ford reached out to place his hand on Stanley’s forehead, but he hesitated.  What would he see in his brothers mind?  If Bill was to be believed, Stanley’s mind was currently in a state of disarray.  There was a chance that Ford could cause more damage in there than good.  And, if he was being honest, Ford dreaded finding out just what his brother thought of him.  Stanley must hate him by now.  But if Ford did nothing, than Bill could-he could-
‘...MAKE ANOTHER DEAL SOON...YOU’LL SLIP UP AND WHEN YOU DO...NEW-AND-IMPROVED TWIN...MUCH NEEDED REWIRING...’  Bills sinister words came back to Ford.  It didn’t matter if Stanley hated Ford, and Ford wouldn’t blame his brother at all if he never wanted to see him again after this.  Stanley needed Ford’s help, not for him to turn away again!
Ford took a deep breath and placed his hand on Stanley’s forehead, carefully minding the fresh bandages and stitches, and read the incantation.
“Videntus omnium. Magister mentium.
Magnesium ad hominem. Magnum opus.
Habeas corpus! Inceptus Nolanus overratus!
Magister mentium! Magister mentium! MAGISTER MENTIUM!”
Everything faded to white.
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