Ford should have known better. He had erased Stan's mind to get rid of Bill. He thought he lost Stan forever, but somehow, he regained his memories. He was so happy to have his brother back that the genius didn't even consider he may not have come back alone.

If he had, he would see his brother's eyes staring down at him instead of those demonic, yellow slits. If he had, the man in front of him would have his signature deep, gravelly voice not this high-pitched, mocking voice. If he had, the man in front him would be protecting him not forcing Ford to his knees at gunpoint. Because of his lack of foresight, he was about to be shot to death by his possessed brother.

"Did you think you can get rid of me that easily?" Bill's voice came out of Stan.

"Leave Stan alone, Bill!" Ford was not only terrified by the prospect of his own death but what fate Stan will suffer as Bill's puppet.

"I wish I could, Sixer. Unfortunately, I'm kind of stuck in this disgusting old man's body thanks to you."

"Don't you dare insult my brother!"

"I don't know why you're so worried about him. You're the one who's about to die. Speaking of which, we should get on with that." Bill aimed the gun at Ford.

"Oh, pipe down, you," Bill said seemingly to no one. "Sorry, Stanford, wasn't talking to you. It's your brother. Since we share one head, it's hard to tune him out. I wish you could hear him right now. He's begging for your life. It's so pathetic."

"You monster!"

Bill pressed the gun to Stanford's forehead. "Any last words?"

"Stanley," Ford wished he could look into his brother's eyes, his real eyes, as he said this. "Listen, what's about to happen to me isn't your fault. Don't blame yourself for whatever Bill does."

"Say goodbye to your brother, Stanley. Not that he can hear you anyway."

Ford clamped his eyes shut and braced himself for a bullet to be lodged in his brain. A gunshot rang out, but Ford felt nothing. When he opened his eyes, he saw that Stan had turned the gun on himself.

"What…what have you done, Stanley?" Bill's yellow slits turned brown.

"Keeping you…from hurting my brother again." The correct voice finally came out of Stan's mouth before he collapsed.

"Oh my god! Stanley!" Ford rushed to his fallen brother's side.

"You think…he'd know by now...not to mess with…with my family."

"Stanley, don't speak. Save your strength." Ford tried to press the wound and staunch the blood, but Stan was bleeding out too fast. "I'll…I'll get on the radio. Call for help."

"Forget it...Poindexter. There's…there's no point."

"I have to save you, Stanley."

"Even if…you could…"

"I can save you, and I will."

"Even if you could…you'd be saving him too."

"I don't care. I won't sacrifice you to stop him. Not again."

"I hate to say this…Sixer...but I think…the decision…is out of your hands now."

"Stanley-"

"Don't go, Ford…stay with me…please." Stan seemed so sad and scared. How could Ford ignore his last request?

Last request.

His brother was dying, and they both knew it.

Ford took his hand off Stan's wound. There was no point in trying to stop the bleeding. He instead allowed his hand to cradle Stan's head. His brother didn't deserve to die lying on a cold dirty floor. He should die feeling safe and warm in the arms of someone who loved him. "I'll stay right here. I won't go anywhere."

"Thank…thank you. You know…it's…funny…I always thought I…I'd die alone."

"You're not alone, Stanley. I'm here."

Even as his vision blurred and dimmed, he kept his eyes locked on Ford. He wanted his face to be the last thing he sees. Even if Ford's grief-stricken expression broke Stan's heart.

He reached up to touch his brother's face, but he was so weak now and was having trouble making it. Realizing Stan's intention, Ford grabbed his hand and brought it to his cheek. He could feel Ford's tears on his palm.

"Tell Dipper…and Mabel…" Stan choked at the thought of the kids. He was never going to see them again.

"I will." Ford didn't need to ask what he wanted to tell the kids. "They love you too."

Stan rested his head against his brother's chest. He could hear Ford's heartbeat. It was a comforting sound as he faced his last moments. Knowing his brother's heart will live on gave his own dying heart a sense of peace.

Stan cried out as a huge wave of pain shoot through his entire body. Ford clasped onto his hand and Stan gripped it tight.

Ford couldn't prolong his brother's suffering anymore. It was time to let him go. "It'll be over soon, Stanley. Just close your eyes. Go to sleep."

Even though he was afraid, he'll listen to his brother and sleep because he trusted Ford to protect and guide him, even in death. Stan closed his eyes for what he knew would be the last time.

But before Stan slipped away into eternity, he had one final message for his brother. It was difficult for Stan to speak now, and he was only telling Ford what he already knew. Still, it was one Stan must say out loud. With everything he had left in him, he spoke his final words that he could barely raise above a whisper. "I love you, Stanford."

Ford made a noise akin to a small, wounded animal. He composed himself as best as he could to give his final goodbye. "I love you too, brother."

Stan's body went limp and breathed no more. Ford pressed his fingers into his neck to check for a pulse he already knew wouldn't be there.

Ford held his brother in what would have been a bone-crushing hug if he had been able to feel anything anymore. His cries of grief and agony echoed across the vast and empty sea. The peace and quiet of the ocean used to soothe them. Now, the silence meant there was nothing to drown out Ford's despair.

They were finally living their childhood dream. Now, their dream had died with Stan, and Ford was truly alone.