Pairing: None.

Genre/warnings: angst, blood, implied/referenced suicide, drinking, alcohol.

Words:1129

Summery: Ford doesn't like the things he's done in his life, he takes a little walk.

Note: this is the first part of a fic for @skaleigha 's guilty Ford au of which I'm in love with! I think I made this too sad but meh,I bet there are some grammar mistakes here and there but please excuse me, I'm new to writing, anyways on with the show!

(All characters belong to Alex Hiresh and Disney).

It was midnight, dark and quiet, the mystery shacks individuals were fast asleep, it had been a week since weirdmegedon, all traces of the chaos gone and thanks to Mabel's scrapbook Stan was able to regain memories ,tears streamed down the cheeks of Ford and the twins when Stan flashed his trademark grin, trying his hardest to hold back his tears as he was huddled in a group hug by his loving family.

The younglings were to go back home the next day, their last day in gravity falls filled with fits of laughter, beginning with stancakes, hugs, bad puns of which Ford couldn't help but smile at and ending with a family movie night, Mabel had suggested -in her opinion- the best movie of all time, a romantic chick flick called 'the painfully blinding colours of love', while Dipper having brought up all the si-fi movies he can think of, though in the end they settled with Ducktective: the movie, after the movie Stan shooed the younger twins to bed smiling and saying goodnight to his brother as he also headed upstairs,so Ford went to his room.

But Ford couldn't sleep.

He lay there on his bed, staring blankly at the walls, mind buzzing with racing thoughts to the point we're Ford truly wondered if his head would explode.

Everyday since weirdmegedon Ford couldn't sleep -not that he slept much in the first place- he couldn't shake the little voice whispering horrible things to him.

Selfish,

Ungrateful,

freak,

You caused this,

You erased his mind,

You erased Stan ,

You KILLED Stan,

Monster,

MONSTER,

MONSTER,

Ford blinked and rubbed his eyes, -why were they wet?- with a groan he sat up on his bed, he sighed and looked at his hands, his face creased into a disgusted frown,clenching them into fists as he muttered.

"Monster..".

He stood up abruptly and headed to the door of his room taking his jacket with him, he needed fresh air...And maybe a drink...

Five minutes later there Ford stood, with a bottle of whiskey in hand, wind ruffling his hair from the midnight breeze, an unreadable expression on his face as he stared into the dark woods.

Ford took a swing of the drink, the burning liquid leaving a bitter taste in his mouth but he still found himself wanting more, he just needed those thoughts to stop for a while, even just a minute, any moment of peace he would be grateful for, even if he thought he didn't deserve it...

Ford thought he didn't deserve a lot of things, given what he'd done, he didn't think he deserved the nibblings, they were like two little beams of sunshine, he admired the way they solved mysteries together and supported each other, the way they stuck together no matter what, he thought maybe things would be different if he was there for his brother too.

He took another swing.

Stanley always was there for him, took punches from his bullies and hit back even though they usually only wanted to mess with Ford.

He didn't think he deserved Stan...

He was always a burden for Stan, He wondered what if he wasn't born, maybe Stanley would have had a better life, instead he got his brother kicked out at the small age of 17, then calling him for help only to throw him out the next second.

Maybe they would be better off without him...

He drained the last of his drink, and threw the bottle away, 'maybe I should just leave', it made sense, they wouldn't have to deal with him, wouldn't have to pretend to love him, if he was gone, they would be free.

With the determination that had saved him for the last 30 years, he made his decision,he walked to the woods,leaving behind his old life.

'It's for the best' he thought as he staggered away,probably the affects of the whiskey.

He walked without purpose, going to whatever place his feet carried him, it had been almost two hours since he left, his legs began to ache and the wounds he gained from the apocalypse stung,as he walked he heard something.

There was a growl.

Stanford stopped in his tracks, he glanced around looking for the source of the source of the sound, his hand brushed his hip, cursing himself for not bringing his blaster.

There was another growl, closer, Ford turned to face the sound but found nothing, he took some steps back, back hitting the bark of a tree and from a distance before him, two glowing purple eyes emerged.

To Ford the creature looked wolf-like, ebony fur shining in the moonlight, it's two tail swinging, fangs bearing into a snarl as it went onwards to claim it's new found pry.

Suddenly it lunched forward, tackling Ford to the ground, Ford tried pushing it away, it's face inches from his, his hand desperately looked for a weapon to defend himself with, he found a rock, but before he could do any harm it struck him with it's sharp black claws, now glistering with blood, burning hot pain rippled through his left shoulder as he screamed, he quickly hit the beast with the rock with enough force that it that it fell off of him, whimpering away, retreating to the forest.

Fords breath was ragged as he clutched his shoulder, blood oozed from between his fingers, a moan of pain escaping him as he stood, it won't do him good to stay.

the creature might return and heaven forbid with its pack.

He didn't get far.

Ford took one step forward, two, three, he swayed left and right with each step, his vision blurred and dark spots edged his sight, so he didn't notice the vine stretching in front of him and tripped landing with a heap on the floor.

Ford couldn't get up again, what was the point, he was a monster , a freak, a burden to his family, he deserved all of this, he had to be punished for what he made his family go through.

the wind whistled, making Ford curl onto himself, his trench coat doing nothing to shield him from the cold, it was so cold, and he was so tired, so very tired, of his thoughts, of what he's done, of being a ungrateful freak, of being a failure, of being a monster.

His vision blurred once more and suddenly his eyelids felt heavy, sleep nudging at him,he knew that there was a chance that if he slept he might not wake up.

He just didn't care.

'It's for the best...' was his last thought as his eyes slid shut and darkness engulfed him.