"You coming to bed anytime soon, Poindexter?" Stan was laying down on his bottom bunk with his hands under the back of his head waiting for his brother to climb on the top bunk so they could finally turn the lights off. It was a nightmare to get Ford to go to bed when he was in the middle of one of his projects. Some things never change.

"I'll be there in a minute, Stanley," Ford said without even turning away from his desk.

How many times has Stan heard that before? He shut his eyes figuring his brother will not be moving from his desk for a while. "You're gonna die young if stay up like this every night."

"Don't get my hopes up, Stan."

Stan bolted up so fast that he hit his head on the top bunk. He hoped the bump to his head was making him hallucinate because his brother was no longer sitting at his desk. Instead, the office chair spun around to reveal none other than Bill Cipher.

"Bill…no, not again."

"Miss me, Stan?"

Stan closed his eyes and held his head in his hands. "You're not real. Ford told me you're not real. This is all just a dream."

"Of course, there's no reason to worry. It's not like I'm a dream demon or anything."

"You're dead. Ford said you're gone."

"Ford thought your memories were gone too. But they came back, didn't they? And so did I." Bill looked around the room.

"What a nice little setup you got here, so sweet and cozy. It's DISGUSTING!" Bill's voice deepened into a terrifying demonic voice as his body turned red with anger. Stan watched in horror as Bill unleashed a fireball that quickly engulfed the room.

"Look familiar, Stanley? Remember the room burning as your brother tried to kill us? Well, don't worry, we'll be returning the favor soon enough."

"I'll never let you hurt Stanford!"

"Once I've regained enough strength to take over your mind." Bill spun around in the chair like a playful child. "There won't be anything you can do to stop me."

"No…"

"And maybe when I'm done with Ford, I can pay Dipper and Mabel a visit."

"NO!" Stan grabbed a pocketknife and lunged forward to plunge it right into Bill's eye.

"Stanley…"

Stan backed up in horror. Bill had disappeared and Ford was sitting in his chair again. Except the knife he intended to use against Bill was sticking out of Ford's chest. "Stanford…oh my god…Ford."

"Stanley…why?" Ford's weak voice carried so much hurt from Stan's betrayal.

"No…Ford…Bill…he was…I didn't mean to…" Before Stan could spit out a coherent explanation, Ford toppled out of the chair. Stan quickly picked up his brother turned him around to see Ford looking up at him with blank, lifeless eyes.

"No…no, Ford. I'm sorry. Don't leave me, please." Stan brushed his hand across Ford's face to stir him, but it was too late. His brother was gone.

Stan hugged his brother's body close to him, sobbing into the crook of Ford's neck. "No, please…I'm so…please, god, no…Stanford, please…please…"

"There's no way out of this." Bill's high-pitched mocking echoed inside Stan's head like nails on a chalkboard. "You're a monster, Stanley. You're a monster!"

"No! NO!"

He felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked down and was stunned to see said hand was from Ford's reanimated corpse. He was even more shocked when the dead body started speaking. "Stanley, wake up."

"Wha…what?"

"Stanley, wake up!"

Stan's eyes snapped open. He was lying in bed and his brother, his living, breathing brother, was kneeling next to him.

"Stan, are you okay?"

"No, Ford, get away from me. Bill…"

"Stan, I told you. Bill's gone."

"No, he's here. I saw him. I saw you…"

"Stanley, listen to me." Ford put his hands on Stan's shoulders. "You just had a dream. Whatever you saw was just a dream."

Stan looked into Ford's soft brown eyes. He wanted to be reassured by his brother's words, but he couldn't stop picturing those eyes becoming the blank, lifeless stare he saw in his dream. He yanked Ford's hands off him. "No! I won't let him hurt you! I won't!"

Stan pushed his brother out of the way and ran out of the cabin. When he got on deck, he shut the door and put a fishing rod through the handle to keep Ford from getting out.

"Stanley, let me out!" Ford pounded on the door. "Stanley, talk to me, please!"

Stan slid down to the floor and hugged his knees. His eyes burned with tears, his whole body was shaking, and his chest was heaving.

The scene of his brother's murder by his hands kept replaying in his mind. What if Bill was alive? What if he took control? What if he hurt his family?

But what was he going to do? Mabel destroyed the memory gun. Even if they built a new one, it's not like it worked the first time.

Ford was still banging on the door behind him, but Stan could barely hear him over his own hyperventilating. He wasn't sure if it was good for a man his age to be breathing this hard. He feared he was in danger of a heart attack. Then again, if he died, at least his family would be safe.

His family would be safe.

He stared out to the ocean.

His family would be safe. That was all that mattered.

He went to the edge of the boat and stared into the watery abyss. He didn't want to die, and drowning in freezing water was far from a quick, painless death. He was scared, but he was more scared for his family's safety.

He stepped onto the edge working up the courage to end his life when he heard a loud crash behind him. He turned to see Ford had broken down the door.

"Stanley, what are you doing?"

Stan had run out of time. He had to make the leap now. He tried to jump off the boat but was stopped when Ford locked his arms around Stan's and pulled him back.

"Stanley, stop! Are you crazy?"

"He's inside me, Stanford! I won't let him hurt you!" Stan tried to wrestle out of Ford's grasp.

"You're not thinking straight! Stanley! Get a hold of yourself!"

"Stanford! Let go of me right now!"

"Listen to me! Bill's gone!"

"You don't know that! There's no way I'm gonna put your life in danger! I'll die before I let that happen!""

"AND I'LL DIE BEFORE I LET YOU KILL YOURSELF!" Ford gathered all his strength, threw his brother to the ground, and pinned down his arms.

Stan tried to get out from under Ford when he felt something wet fall on his face. He looked up and saw Ford was crying.

"I won't let you die, Stanley."

"You can't stop me, Ford."

"If I really can't stop you, if you want to plunge yourself to the bottom of the ocean, I'll come after you. If I can't save you, then we'll die together." At this, Stan stopped struggling. Certain that his brother won't try again, Ford let go of his arms and used both hands to cup his face. "I'll follow you wherever you go, brother."

Stan couldn't look at Ford anymore. He turned onto his side, pressing the side of his face into the floor. He put his hands over his mouth as he laid on the ground sobbing. He didn't care how pathetic he must have looked. He's never felt so scared and helpless in his life. He was always a fighter, but this was a problem far beyond his reach to fight back against.

"Shh, it's okay." Ford put his hand on Stan's arm. He's never seen his brother like this, so broken down and defeated. "It's okay."

Stan was shivering violently. He hadn't put a jacket on. He only wore his white sleeping shirt and pants. He didn't think his brother would be able to stand up the moment and there was no way Ford would risk leaving him alone to get something warm for him. He took off his own jacket and laid it over Stan ignoring his own discomfort with the cold air.

Neither of them were warm enough, so Ford laid down behind Stan and wrapped his arm around him. He rested his head on top of Stan. When Ford spoke, Stan felt his warm breath on his cheek. "Shh, it's okay, Stanley. You're okay now. Bill's gone. He can never hurt us again."

"What if he isn't?"

"Then, we'll beat him together like we did before." Ford held Stan tighter. "We'll find a way. We always do."

Stan's shaky hand found Ford's. They squeezed each other tight. Ford whispered soothing words in Stan's ear. All the while, holding him close to shield him from the cold night air.