I thought that there is not enough angstfics about Stanford dealing with the things he encountered on the other side of the portal. So I decided to write a fic with him having a panic attack.

I may make it a series of oneshots. Just tell me what you think.

Nothing more tangible

It was dark. Well, not completely dark. He could make out some of his surroundings, and that's how he knew he was on some deserted area with lots of rocks and sand. He could hear and feel the wind blowing in the air.

But how did he get here? After all, not long time ago he was back in the shack, with his brother and great niece and nephew. He remembered them well – Stanley meeting him on the other side of the portal (the right side); Mabel shaking his hand and telling him that six-fingered shake is a lot more friendlier than a normal one; Dipper playing Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons with him… He remembered his brother's business and employees. He remembered breakfast with his newfound family. He remembered how he was taking the portal apart to keep them safe.

Was it just a dream? A really long, very sweet and heartwarming dream, he dreamed while sleeping here?

He felt a little pang of sadness. Yes, it was a dream. There was no Mysteries Shack, no brother working on a portal, no small twins spending their summer in Gravity Falls. He was all alone again and it felt so horribly empty, he wanted to cry. He hugged his knees and was just sitting there with apathy.

Suddenly he felt a breath on his shoulder. Right after that he realized that a large shadow was casted on him. And then he heard a growl.

He abruptly stood up and started to run. He didn't even bother to look back, he already knew that the thing behind him was a beast ready to devour him in one quick move. Interestingly, he didn't use his gun. Maybe instinctively he thought it would be useless, or maybe he felt that he disturbed that beast on its territory and it had every right to chase him away. He didn't have much time to think about it, anyways.

So he ran like crazy, looking for a good place to hide. But there was only rocks and sand, and complete desert. There was no way, he could hide from the beast, but his heart was pounding like crazy from the rush of adrenaline. And the beast was coming closer to him, it was almost on his feet, he could hear it from the distance.

Suddenly he tripped on a rock that was on his way, and collapsed. Soon after the beast stopped and once again casted its shadow on him. Well, he couldn't run anymore, so he turned to the beast. It looked just as he thought it could look like – like something straight from a Lovecraftian nightmare. One big, shapeless mass with teeth and claws, and eyes piercing through soul.

He reached for his gun, but he quickly realized it was gone. How? Did he drop it, when he was running? Or…?

The beast bent over him and opened its big mouth. This was it. This was the way, he was going to die – becoming a dinner of some hellish animal; alone, far from home and from his family. And the only thing he could do about it, was scream…

Stanford Pines woke up yelling from the top of his lungs. It took him a couple of seconds to realize that he was sitting in his bed, in his room in the shack that was his hermitage before he was thrown into the portal. It was late at night (almost morning, actually), judging by the sky outside the window, and he was in Gravity Falls.

Stanford's heart was pounding like crazy, he had hard time breathing and he was shivering.

Was it all real? The desert seemed real, and so did the beast. So what was the dream and what was the reality? The desert was a dream. No, the Mystery Shack was the dream. No, no, no. He could feel the covers he was in right now. Or maybe he just wanted the dream, he was now having, to be real – for Stanley to be real, for twins to be real, for him being back in the Gravity Falls, to be real. And he was now going crazy…

A knock to the door brought him back from his gloomy thoughts.

"Great uncle Ford, are you alright?" The voice on the other side belonged to Dipper and it was soon accompanied by Mabel's:

"We've heard you screaming. Did you have a bad dream, gruncle Ford?"

Stanford didn't respond. He was still trying to catch his breath and understand what was happening. He also tried to calm his heart down, but he felt another panic attack building slowly inside of him. He was sweating, his chest was aching, not to mention the dizziness that attacked him all of sudden.

The worst part was that his brain didn't cooperate with him. Stanford had no idea what should he do during panic attack. So he was just sitting there, trying to remember anything about first aid in that kind of a situation.

Another knock on the door. This time louder.

"Open up, pointdexter!" It was Stanley. "You've made a ruckus on the whole shack with that screaming, so you better open up or I will open this doors for ya!"

Stanford felt torn. Torn between letting them help him with his panic attack; and not letting them see him in this state. What would they think of him if they saw him so scared and miserable? To Dipper he was the Author – a cool, wise man, who researched the unknown and battled with monsters. To Mabel he was gruncle Ford – a beloved family member, who came back after a long time of absence and was now living in the shack alongside with them. And to Stanley…

Stanford probably took too long to respond, because the door opened (it wasn't locked) and his brother entered the room. At first he was frowning with annoyance, but when he looked at the state his twin was in, his expression softened. He quickly turned to the kids picking inside the room, and told them to go back to sleep, before he closed the door and walked towards Stanford.

"Okay, pointdexter. "He said, sitting next to his twin. "Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out." He even rested his hand on Stanford shoulder.

The scientist focused on his brother's voice and did as he was told.

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breath out…

Soon he was able to steady his breath and realized that his heart wasn't beating as crazy as earlier.

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out…

His body was coming back to normal, if only a bit slowly. He still felt dizzy and sweaty, and he wasn't entirely sure if this was all real, but at least breathing wasn't as hard as at the beginning.

"That's it, pointdexter. Nice and slowly. Feeling better now?"

Stanford looked at Stanley. His brother seemed concerned, but oddly calm. It was kind of like in the good old days, when they were children and one of them had a bad dream or got spooked away, so the other one was comforting him.

"Yes, yes." Stanford replied on his brother's question. He didn't know where to look, so he gazed at the floor. "Thank you, Stanley. And sorry for waking you, guys, up." He added a bit quieter.

It still felt like a dream, though. Stanford was scared that he will soon wake up, being digested in the beast's stomach.

"Good." Stanley said, withdrawing his hand. "Now tell me, what was that all about?"

The scientist clenched his fist, remembering the beast trying to eat him, and more importantly – he remembered the feeling of sadness, when he realized he was once again on the other side of the portal. Suddenly he felt the overwhelming sadness and dread. He didn't want this all to turn out to be a dream. He didn't want Stanley to be dream; he didn't want twins to be dream; he didn't want the shack to be dream. He wanted to believe that it was all real and not some kind of illusion his mind was making up to play tricks on him.

"Oh, come on! You're not gonna cry right now, aren't you, pointdexter?" Stanley said and Stanford realized that he had tears in his eyes. Stan sounded teasing, but there was some kind of uncertainty in his voice. He obviously didn't know what he would do, if his brother suddenly burst into tears.

Quite frankly, Stanford also didn't want to get all teary in front of Stanley, so he quickly wiped his tears off and tried to pull himself together.

"Good, Stanford. Now go back to my question."

These tears in his eyes felt wet and Ford could sense his brother's heat next to him. Maybe it was real. Stanford clang to this thought, but still some part of him was doubting it.

"Okay, fine." Stanley lost his patience and stood up. "You don't have to tell me. It's not like I want to help you or anything."

He was going to go away, when Stanford caught his arm, immediately stopping him from leaving. Stanley looked at his brother, raising his eyebrows with surprise, but he didn't say anything. He only sat back on the bed and gazed at Stanford with mixture of annoyance and concern.

"Have I ever told you how it was like? On the other side of the portal, I mean." Ford said.

"No," Stan replied. "but I suspected that it was a touchy subject for you, so I didn't ask."

Stanford figured that there was one other reason – Stanley didn't want to know what he caused his brother to suffer for thirty years. But right now Stan seemed to be ready to listen. And Ford felt like his heart was sinking because of the things that was going through his mind.

There had to be a good way to start this. A good way to approach this subject and then just roll with it.

Stanford took a deep breath and gazed at his brother.

"I know how it's like, Stanley." He said with such a weak voice, it seemed like a whisper. "I know how it's like to be homeless."

Stan raised his eyebrows, but didn't say anything.

"There were times in the portal," Ford continued. "you know, when I had nowhere to go and had to spend the night in the cave or under the sky… There were times when I was cold and starving, and just… lost. Then I had time to think."

He remembered various lonely nights spent in the wild, where he didn't know where to go or what to do with himself. Hell, he didn't even know if he will survive the next day, because everything wanted to eat him.

He turned away to observe the floor.

"And, you know, during nights like these, I was thinking mostly about home. About mom and dad. About our house in New Jersey. About my research." He turned back at Stanley. "And about you."

"Oh, I'm dying to listen what you were thinking about me in the middle of nowhere." Stan said sarcastically.

Well, Stanford was still mad, obviously. He spent countless nights thinking about how he wouldn't even end up there, if it weren't for his brother. But there were times when…

"I was thinking about the past. You know, how we used to look for treasure and all…"

How we were attending boxing classes… How you've destroyed my science project… How dad found out and disowned you… How you were looking at me, when I didn't say anything about it…

These nights in the wild were actually a very enlightening experience. They were enough for him to never again look at Stanley's homelessness the same again.

One day he will tell that to his brother.

"And I was sitting in the darkness," Stanford went on. "being cold and hungry, and not knowing where my next meal will be, or if I even survive the next day… and when I was falling asleep, I dreamed that I'm back in Gravity Falls. In my hut, in my own, warm bed…" He saddened. "These dreams were so realistic, I thought that the portal was just a one, big nightmare. But then I was waking up and realizing that the home was a dream."

From the expression on Stanley's face, it looked like he was slowly understanding the implications of that statement. Stanley had to know. Because Stanford wanted him to know and do something about it.

"So you think that I'm a dream?" His brother concluded.

Stanford looked at him.

"My mind is playing tricks with me, Stanley." His voice was cracking, when he tried not to cry. "I want to believe that you've opened the portal and I returned, but I just dreamed about waking up on the other side and now I'm scared that…"

"Okay, pointdexter." Stan stood up and pointed at the space in front of him. "Come."

A bit confused Ford did what he was told. Now both brothers were standing few feet away from each other. And then Stanley used his left hook to knock his twin down. Stanford fell on the ground. Still feeling the punch on the face, he stared at his brother with wide eyes.

At first he wanted to yell: "Stanley, what the hell?!", but then something clicked in his mind and he smiled. Not wasting any more time, Stanford stood up.

"Now you believe that I'm real? Or should I punch you again?" Stan asked.

Ford observed him, still smiling, before he finally decide to speak:

"Oh, yes, yes. Your wimpy punch barely stroke me, but it felt real."

"Okay, so next time I will kick your ass. How about that?"

"You can also stick to just pinching."

"So it hurt after all." A wide grin appeared on Stanley's face.

"Well, yeah, a bit."

Stan sighed.

"Come on, we have to tell the kids that everything is okay."

Stanford didn't say anything. He just followed his brother. Even massaging his aching face, he was still smiling to his own thoughts. All in all, Stanley was used to simple solutions and simple solutions were sometimes the best.

After all, there was nothing more tangible than pain.