Stan hesitated before he knocked which was, frankly, completely ridiculous.

It was only Ford.

And fine, maybe it hadn't been 'only' Ford since the day that his brother had discovered that he had broken his project and he'd gotten kicked out before he'd managed to explain it to him. He was still convinced that, if he'd been given the time, he could have squared it with Ford.

But he had faced down a Ford that was still – maybe justifiably – pissed that he had accidentally trapped him in another dimension for thirty years and then risked destroying the universe to bring him back. And okay, maybe that did come uncomfortably close to destroying the world. But it didn't. And Stanford got over it eventually.

Yeah, that had been an awkward few weeks, especially with Dipper hero-worshipping his brother who had a very questionable view of what was appropriate for children (and given he taught them how to counterfeit that was really saying something) and Mabel having growing up anxiety and a fear of losing her brother probably prompted by him and Ford. But it was over. Or rather, thanks to that time wish he'd managed to snag, it hadn't happened yet.

It wouldn't happen if he had anything to say about it.

He was nearly positive Bill Cipher had planned the whole thing in order to cause the rift. Even knowing that, should Stanford end up on the other side of the portal again, he wouldn't do anything differently. How could he? Ford hadn't been able to deny that he'd bring him back if their positions had been reversed (and much quicker), not in any of the arguments they had about Stan's reactivating the portal. Stan wouldn't have believed him if he had said he wouldn't have risked it to save him but he was still pleased his brother hadn't even been able to say it.

There was no way in hell Ford was ending up back in the portal but, with his previous experience and the fact that he'd pestered Ford until he knew where the other journals had been hidden, it should take considerably less than three fucking decades so it should be much less world-ending.

It was only Stanford. And yeah, going back in time and trying to change half your life was a bit of a tall order but it was what he wanted, more than anything, so there was no backing out now. God knew he had his sins but cowardice was not nor would it ever be one of them.

He knocked and, while he was expecting Ford to throw open the door looking like the crazy guy in a conspiracy movie and to point a crossbow at him, it was still a bit unsettling. "Who is it? Have you come to steal my eyes?"

Yeah, he'd never quite been able to figure that one out.

There was really only one thing he could say to that. "Um…no."

"Stanley, did anyone follow you? Anyone at all?" Ford demanded.

Stan pushed down the automatic sense of annoyance that came from someone doubting his skills. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to be in such dire straits when he'd woken up in that crappy motel room up to his eyeballs in debts to Rico (whoever that even was). He'd been even more careful than avoiding those lowlifes had required because he'd known what was at stake here in Gravity Falls. But Ford didn't know what his life had been and he sure as hell didn't know just how much Stan understood.

He certainly hadn't the first time. Ford had even explained the portal to him, though nothing of Bill, and all he could think about was Ford summoning him just to banish him. Which, yeah, still a dick move. But Ford had never been great at putting himself in someone else's shoes and that went double for when he was stressed.

Stan held up his hands placatingly. "No one followed me, Ford. I was careful." A beat. "It's good to see you again."

As he had expected, Ford ignored that and pulled him into the shack.

He shined his flashlight into Stan's eyes and Stan had to blink rapidly to try and adjust. A little warning would be nice but, contrary to what Ford believed, he did understand.

"Good, you're not…" Ford trailed off, looking deeply relieved. "Uh, never mind."

Stan took a moment to just take in the sight of his brother. Seeing his own twenty-eight-year-old reflection was hard enough but at least he knew that he was just the same person, albeit in a far younger and better body.

Ford, though…Ford was completely in pieces. He hadn't yet been through half of the hell he had experienced by the time he walked out of that portal and he looked like he was at the end of his rope. But of course he had to have been to even think of calling Stan given the state of their relationship (or, well, the lack there of) at the time.

Fuck, he was so young.

Just twenty-eight.

Stan remembered, vaguely, that he had felt ancient by the time he was twenty-eight. And, to be fair, he had had cause. The decade between the times he had lost his brother had been the hardest of his life. Not the most painful, perhaps, but the hardest.

But what did he know? Twenty-eight was practically a baby.

Ford was only twenty-eight. His best friend had lost his damn mind and Ford blamed himself. He had been tricked into building a machine that could destroy the world and tasked with preventing that all on his own. He had been betrayed by someone he had trusted with everything and he had had to put a metal plate in his own head in order to stop him.

He was too fucking young for this shit. For any of it.

Stan told himself firmly that he was not feeling maternal towards his twin brother just because said brother was currently an infant.

"Are you okay?" he asked, knowing that Ford really, really wasn't. And how could he be? He'd made a deal with a demon he thought a friend (how that happened, he wasn't quite sure. Bill Cipher had always come off as needing a punch in the face on his best days) and built a portal that could end the world. Fiddleford McGucket was quickly descending into madness and memory erasure on a terrifying scale. He had so little contact with the rest of town it was absurdly easy for Stan to take his place. And when he needed someone to trust, he turned to someone had had last seen ten years ago being kicked out after ruining his chances for West Coast Tech.

And Stan had read all the journals by now. The first hurt because it was so nerdy and happy and Stanford. It was hard to reconcile that with the paranoid mess he'd lost to the portal. The third journal was worse and no wonder it was giving Dipper issues. It almost made Stan himself paranoid. And the second journal and the very real questions Stan had about what exactly the nature of Ford and Bill's relationship was…

"I'm fine," Stanford said dismissively. Like hell he was. "Listen, there isn't much time. I've made huge mistakes and I don't know who I can trust anymore."

"And you came to me," Stan said softly. He knew that already, of course, but it was one of those things he'd hated himself for over the years. After everything, after all the ways he'd ruined Stanford's life and crashed and burned his own, Ford still came tom him when it really mattered.

And Stan was hard-pressed to think of a way he could have failed his brother more.

Not this time.

"Yes, well, there didn't appear to be anyone else," Ford said.

That was true. And it irrationally stung to hear that Ford would have gone to literally anyone else if he could have. But he got it and that much had always been more than obvious. And when you came right down to it, Stan was the only one who made Ford's list.

It was just hard when he had already done this work once already, when he had already broken down Ford's resentment and rebuilt the ruins of what was once a relationship. But at least this Ford only had the one thing to be angry about. Science projects and dream schools were one thing. Thirty years of life and rifts in the universe were quite another and, if he were being honest, he really wasn't up to having that fight again anytime soon.

"Thank you."

That broke through Ford's paranoid frenzy. He stared at Stan as if he had grown another head and like Ford was not totally into that kind of thing.

"Stanley, you don't know what you're saying. You shouldn't be thanking me for dragging you into this."

He did, actually, and he couldn't claim to be thrilled to have been dragged into this crap. That wasn't what he was thanking him for. "Thank you for trusting me."

Several complicated emotions made their way across Ford's face. "Stanley…"

"I know I must not seem a natural choice, what with the fact we haven't talked for ten years and how we ended things. But you still think I can help with your…whatever this is. You can see how I might take that."

It was clear that Ford hadn't. "I…If it's worth anything, I knew you would come."

Of course he did. If there was one constant it was that Stan would do anything for his family, would always run when they called. And Ford had always relied on that more than he knew.

Stan offered him a warm smile. "So I'm here and I'm ready to help."

"I hope you can," Ford said, sighing. "I really don't know what else to do."

Stan knew better than to suggest just burning the journals and being done with it. Even if he waited until Ford actually brought up the journals so as not to set his paranoia off any further, his brother had literally tackled him and started what might be the first fistfight of his life when he had tried.

And yes, he'd been being petty (would he really have done it?) and it had made him forget everything else. The journals would be so much better off destroyed but Ford wouldn't be Ford if he could stand to let go of his knowledge. It represented years of work and Stan had never really understood until the summer it seemed that everyone and their mother was trying to take the Mystery Shack away.

He didn't think he had the heart to see Ford's face after he realized the journals were gone anyway.

"I have something to show you," Ford told him haltingly. "Something you wouldn't believe."

"I've been all around the world, Ford, and seen all kinds of crazy shit. Whatever it is, I'll understand."

Ford gave him the most skeptical look he'd ever seen and he had to stifle a laugh. It was true, the first time, he couldn't have been less able to understand. But now he knew more about the portal than 1982 Ford did.

Ford didn't have to show him the portal. He could have at least tried to fob him off with a lie. It would have been better if he had.

"No, really, I have," Stan said as he followed Ford towards the portal. "I've seen all kinds of things. Sea monsters and aliens and zombies.'

Ford grabbed the book that opened up the door to the basement. Personally, Stan felt the vending machine was cleverer.

"Yeah, secret passages are no big deal. I've seen ghosts and SpongeBob wannabees who may actually be Satan and death robots."

"This is a bit different than that," Ford cautioned, gesturing to the portal which had just come into view. Apparently Ford had been mired in the mysteries of Gravity Falls too long to realize how very out of the ordinary Stan's list had been.

Stan had to tap down the sudden surge of hatred. This stupid alien gateway. It had taken Ford from him and forced him to spend half his life bringing him back. It had caused a rift in the universe and nearly destroyed the whole world. What he wouldn't give to have a crowbar.

"See?" Ford asked, noting his silence. "I told you that-"

Stan couldn't resist. "Call me crazy but that looks like a portal to another dimension."

Ford blinked at him. "That-that's right. But how do you-?"

"I can pick up a book," Stan said dismissively. "That kind of stuff reminded me of you."

Something almost vulnerable crossed Ford's face. "Well, yes, I suppose I can see how that might be the case but, Stanley, this is very specialized material."

"And I can get there eventually," Stan said, "just not as far as you."

Ford nodded uncertainly.

"I'm no expert on this portal I am just now seeing for the first time," Stan lied. "But the theory I've seen says you need to punch a hole in a weak spot in our dimension. But, I gotta say Ford, progress is one thing but I don't like the thought of punching holes in our dimension. Who knows what could happen? I just picture all these Eldritch Abominations chilling in another dimension waiting to be let through."

Ford paled. "That is a very succinct summary of my problem."

"You've run into an Eldritch Abomination?" That was about as good of an explanation for Bill as anything.

Ford just shook his head, either outright lying or – hopefully – just not wanting to get into it five minutes after their being reunited.

"Why weren't you here warning me about the terrible destruction this could cause while I was building this?" Ford asked absently.

It was ridiculous. It had been decades. He had forgiven his brother for everything. He shouldn't still be feeling a surge of resentment at the question. It didn't matter.

"Don't feel too bad," Stan said. "I have no interest in the potential scientific breakthroughs access to another dimension could lead to. I'm just worried about monsters on the other side."

"And just look which of us built a portal that could destroy the world," Ford said bitterly. "Look, I don't know what you've been up to these past ten years-" and whose fault was that? "-but you cannot possibly have fucked up as much as I have."

"I'll take those odds," Stan muttered. "You said you needed my help with something?"

Ford nodded and picked his journal up. "Right. Of course. Do you remember our plans to sail around the world on a boat?"

Stan groaned. He knew exactly what Ford was getting at and yet he still couldn't help getting his hopes up. Poor actual twenty-eight-year-old him hadn't stood a chance. What was actually wrong with Ford that he'd phrase it like that?

"What?" Ford asked defensively. "I didn't even tell you what I wanted you to do and you seemed willing to help a minute ago."

"I'm not saying I literally want to sail around the world treasure hunting anymore," Stan said. "It's harder than you'd think anyway. Besides, it was never about the boat. Not really. It was just a symbol of my relationship with you. It was about us. That's why I was still talking about it when we were in high school and I knew I was going to lose you. It's why I actually went treasure hunting. Unless you're about to say that you want to shut this whole mess down and go sailing, which I seriously doubt, maybe you don't want to open with 'remember that dream we used to have before life kicked us in the balls?'"

Ford took a moment to process that. "I can honestly say that that hadn't occurred to me."

Stan sighed. "Yeah, I figured. You're not cruel, Ford. Just a little tone-deaf sometimes."

"I'm afraid I don't have the time to go sailing, Stanley," Ford said gently, holding the journal out to Stan. "But why I brought it up is that I need you to take this journal as far away as you can and hide it as well as you can."

Stan made no move to take it. "Well hiding it as well as I can would probably be putting it in a Swiss deposit box or something but that might be expensive. Shipping it to New Jersey might be cheaper."

"Shipping-Stanley, I don't want to ship it anywhere. I could have shipped it somewhere myself! I need you to take it with you."

Stan held up his hands placatingly. "I appreciate your need to keep your journal safe-"

"Clearly you don't or you wouldn't be suggesting-"

Stan raised his voice. "I'm not a hundred percent sure what's even in there but I'm guessing it's portal stuff. Getting this safe is important. I get it."

"Then why are you fighting this? I'm giving you the chance to do the first worthwhile thing in your life and you won't listen!"

These were old wounds being picked at, perhaps not healed as much as he'd like. The last time Ford had said that to him, he'd taken out his lighter.

"Wow," Stan said. "Just wow. You sure know how to butter a guy up, don't you?"

Ford winced. "Stanley-"

"And for your information," Stan said loudly, images of Wendy and Soos and McGucket and Dipper and Mabel and, yes, even Ford stepping out of that portal flashing through his mind, "it's not nearly the first worthwhile thing I've ever done."

"I'm sorry, I just…" Ford ran an agitated hand through his hair. "This is literally the fate of the world here. You say you understand that but you're being difficult."

"Do you have any idea why I'm not jumping at the chance to take this journal and go?"

Ford rubbed tiredly at his eyes. "I don't know. I'm not very good at asking for help? You just got here, maybe?"

Stan paused. "While both of those are true, my answer is that if I leave with that, I can't be here with you."

"Stanley, I appreciate that you want to-to reconnect," Ford said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "But this is more important than that."

"It's not about that," Stan countered. "Although, for that matter, it's not exactly a drawback."

"Then what is it?" Ford challenged.

"You tell me you're in over your head here," Stan said. "You've got a portal to another dimension that could be the end of the world. You seem to be all alone in this and, I hate to tell you, but you're kind of coming off like a crazy person. I mean, I believe everything you're saying so it's not just this and the end of the world thing. But I am seriously worried about you. And until two days ago I had a mullet so that should really tell you something."

Ford brushed that off. "I'm fine."

Stan raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms. "Who were you worried was here to steal your eyes right before you shined a blinding light in my eyes?"

Ford looked away. "I never said things weren't…stressful up here. But that's exactly why you can't stay! It's far too dangerous for you here."

"If it's too dangerous for me, it's too dangerous for you," Stan said flatly.

"That's probably true, actually, but I don't have a choice about being here. I can't just walk away and hope for the best. You don't have to be here."

"Actually, I do. I can't just abandon my brother in his time of need." Unlike Ford who had had no problem turning his back on him. And sure, Ford had only been seventeen but Stan had been seventeen, too, and he wouldn't have done it.

"I don't want you here for this." Big surprise there.

Stan rolled his eyes. "I said time of need, not time of want."

"But the journal-"

"I'll take care of it," Stan interrupted. "But I'm not leaving. I don't trust that I wouldn't come back in a week or so to some grisly murder or you just vanishing or something."

"Stanley-"

"It's a free country," Stan cut him off again. "I guess you could kick me out of your house and make me live in my car but that ain't going to deter me and I would hope you're not that much of an asshole."

Ford stared at him intently for a few minutes as if trying to will him to change his mind. But Stan had once punched Bill in his big stupid eye. He wasn't the type to back down. He especially wasn't going to when it was this important.

Eventually, Ford's shoulders slumped in defeat and he sighed. "I'm not going to kick you out."